Wanting Shaw

by Terri Anne Browning

  “You’re late,” the photographer named Auden said, and I immediately noted his Danish accent.

  “By two minutes,” Shaw told him with a roll of her eyes. “Boo-fucking-hoo, Auden. Traffic was a bitch. Next time you want me to arrive earlier, send a car.”

  Auden’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue with her. Instead, he barked at someone, the makeup artist, I assumed, to get Shaw’s face done.

  I followed her into a room off to the side of the studio and took a seat on the couch while Shaw dropped into the makeup chair after taking off her coat and tossing it onto the couch beside me. She pulled out her phone and flipped through her social media while the artist quickly did her makeup. I sipped my own coffee and watched as my girl’s face was transformed from naturally beautiful to a wicked seductress with glossy, crimson lips.

  I couldn’t help wondering how good those lips would look wrapped around my cock, and I was still thinking about it when she called my name.

  “Jags?”

  My cock pulsed against my thigh, stretching my jeans material around my left leg and making me groan in agony.

  Shaw smirked knowingly. “Can I have my coffee, please?”

  “But your lipstick…” I tried to argue.

  “This stuff isn’t going to come off,” the artist assured me with a flirty wink. “Trust me, handsome.”

  My girl rolled her eyes again, but I stood and handed over the cup of coffee. Tipping her head back, she waterfalled a huge sip into her mouth. I gulped as I watched her throat work as she swallowed. Fuck, I was going to come in my jeans just watching her if I wasn’t careful.

  The artist excused herself, and the stylist entered the room, pushing a rack of clothes with her. Shaw stood and pushed her cup back into my free hand before pulling her T-shirt over her head. I swallowed yet another groan as she stripped off her jeans, leaving her standing in the middle of the room in nothing but a pretty baby-blue bra and matching panties.

  The stylist flipped through the outfits hanging on the rack, deciding which to go with first, when the door opened and the photographer stuck his head in. His eyes landed on Shaw, and I moved to block his view as jealousy and possessiveness hit me like a punch to the gut.

  “Hurry the hell up, Shaw,” he told her.

  “Just because my mother isn’t here doesn’t mean I’m going to put up with your shit today, Auden,” she snapped at him. “One call and she will be here in ten minutes flat.”

  I saw his face pale slightly, telling me he must fear Dallas Cage, but after a second, his eyes only hardened. “And I won’t put up with your drama queen bitchiness. I don’t care how much the client wants these shots.”

  “I think you have me confused with yourself, Auden,” Shaw shot back. “Now, if you really want me to hurry so badly, get the fuck out so I can finish getting dressed. I still have to do my hair. The makeup artist said she doesn’t do hair, and no one thought to get someone who could.”

  The guy grumbled something under his breath but stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The stylist gaped at Shaw in shock then burst out laughing. “I have never seen anyone speak to Auden like that. You…you are my hero.”

  She grimaced. “It’s not me,” she assured the woman. “He’s terrified of my mother.”

  “Oh, this I would love to see,” she giggled and handed Shaw a bikini.

  I gulped and turned my back before Shaw could even reach for the clasp of her bra. Tipping my head back, I chugged the rest of my coffee, wishing the double shot of espresso I’d ordered in my drink was a double shot of tequila instead.

  “I’m covered now,” Shaw said less than a minute later.

  Cautiously, I turned my head enough to make sure she was dressed and nearly swallowed my tongue. “That… That’s what she’s wearing?” I choked out.

  She was in a black string bikini with just enough material in the front to cover her pussy lips, while the material of the top only covered her nipples. My cock jerked in my jeans, trying to burst free to show her his appreciation for what she was wearing, while my possessiveness bellowed in my head that no one could ever see my Shaw like this. Ever. Not that douchebag photographer or any other person in the universe who would see whatever ads the photo shoot was for to begin with.

  “No. Nope. No fucking way,” I told the stylist. “She’s not wearing that. Find something else.”

  The woman blinked at me like I’d lost my mind. “This is the requested wardrobe the client picked out. I have no say in what she wears. She’ll be shooting in every one of these outfits today. I just figured we would start with the swimwear first so she could get it out of the way.”

  “And I said no,” I growled at her, causing the poor woman to take a step back from Shaw, her eyes wide and a little frightened. “Call the fucking client and tell them she will not be wearing this pathetic excuse for a bikini.”

  Shaw walked over to a full-length mirror, and when she turned her back to me, showing me her perfect ass with the black thong wedged between her cheeks, I felt come leak onto my thigh. My knees went weak just looking at the spectacular rear view of the girl I loved.

  She made a few adjustments to the bikini and turned from side to side to inspect her reflection before sitting back down in the makeup chair. Pulling her hair over one shoulder, she picked up a brush and began pulling it through the thick, honey-blond tresses before reaching for the flat iron that was already turned on and ready to use.

  “Shaw, you’re not wearing that,” I told her.

  “You don’t have a say in what I do or don’t wear,” she said in a bored tone as she straightened her hair. “The client has the right to choose what I wear when I represent their product. It’s in the contract I signed with them. As long as I’m not naked, there’s nothing I can do about the wardrobe choices. Besides, this isn’t the smallest bikini I’ve ever had to wear for a shoot.”

  “Your dad will kill me if I let someone take pictures of you in that thing,” I tried to argue.

  “Dad knows that I have no input in things like wardrobe. He’s used to me having to wear this kind of stuff.” She quickly worked through all of her hair then brushed it again before standing, while I stood there trying to come up with a good enough reason for her not to wear that damn bikini.

  Shaw took one last look at herself in the mirror before putting her feet in a pair of heels that made her just as tall as me.

  Seeing a robe on the back of the door, I grabbed it and wrapped it around her shoulders. “You look cold,” I muttered when she lifted a brow at me.

  Her lips twitched, but she didn’t laugh in my face as I expected her to. Instead, she slid her arms into the sleeves of the robe then cupped my face, her fingertips stroking over the scruff I hadn’t shaved that morning. “You’re adorable when you’re being all growly and possessive. I think I might like it.”

  “Do you like it enough to give me a kiss?” I asked hopefully.

  Her teeth sank into her dark-red bottom lip for a moment before releasing it. “Later,” she promised. “If I kiss you right now, I’ll have to go out there all mussed up.” She tilted her head to the side, causing her hair to fall over her shoulder. “I don’t think you want the world to see what happens to my body when Jagger Armstrong kisses me senseless.”

  “No, I do-fucking-not,” I growled. “Fine. Later. But I need you to tell me what I should be doing while you’re out there taking pictures in this ridiculous thing. I feel kind of useless so far.”

  She grinned. “Just watch out for me. If you think I look tired, tell them to take a break. Grab me water when you think I’m thirsty. If my phone rings, answer it if you think it might be important. That kind of thing.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

  For the next three hours, I watched her work her magic in front of the camera. One outfit after another, she became a sex goddess for the client as she used her face and body to make their product seem worth buying. I stayed off to the side, my eyes trained on h
er every move—and those of the photographer. He barked at her a few times, and she sassed him right back, but the pictures I saw after each wardrobe change were amazing.

  I kept her hydrated, but from what I could tell, she seemed full of energy as the morning flew by. At noon, they broke for lunch, which the client had catered. It was just a buffet of sandwiches and salads, but it meant we didn’t have to deal with the hassle of New York crowds to get food.

  Shaw and I ate in the dressing room, and then the artist was back to redo her makeup for the commercial they were shooting that afternoon for the same product.

  By the time everything was done, it was close to four. Which gave us enough time to go back to the hotel, change, and have dinner before I had to be at the SNL studio for dress rehearsal.

  The weekend was almost over, and while I’d spent the entire day with Shaw, it felt like we hadn’t had much time together so far. I hadn’t really had the chance to show her how good it would be if we were together for longer than this one short weekend. Time wasn’t on my side, and I hated that we would be back home within the next twenty-four hours and our time would be up.

  I rushed through a shower and dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button-up before grabbing my coat, gloves, and snow hat and jogging down the hall to Shaw’s room. I hadn’t seen my dad or her parents all day, but her mom had texted me twice that afternoon to check that everything had gone okay with the photo shoot and commercial.

  When I knocked on Shaw’s door, I heard her call out for me to give her a minute. Feeling each second tick by like the ticking of a bomb, I waited impatiently in the corridor. Hearing her footsteps approaching, I straightened just as the door swung inward.

  Dressed in a simple black dress that clung to her every curve and landed just shy of her knees, where her boots took over and made her long legs look endless, her hair falling in soft curls around her shoulders and minimal makeup, she was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. She had a clutch in one hand and a long white coat folded over her arm.

  Stuffing her room key into her purse, she pushed the bag into my hands and pulled on her coat. It was long enough that it went past her knees and had a faux-fur hood that would protect her from the snow that had started falling on our way back earlier. Once the coat was in place, she took her clutch back from me and then pushed me back against the wall beside her door.

  “I promised you a kiss,” she murmured as she molded her body to mine. She looked at me through her thick lashes, and I had to ball my hands into fists at my sides before I grabbed her. If I let my hands have free rein of her luscious body, we would never make it to dinner, and I would totally blow off the SNL performance.

  She lifted her free hand, stroking her fingertips over my chin that was still covered in scruff before stabbing through the hair at the back of my head. Tentatively, she brushed her lips softly over mine. I let her have full control, so when her tongue skimmed over my bottom lip, I willingly opened for her. As her tongue tangled with mine, she grew bolder and more assertive.

  When she finally pulled back, we were both struggling to catch our breath and my cock was already pushing the limits of the material of my pants.

  Still not trusting myself to touch her, I kissed her forehead. “That was perfect, Dimples.”

  She melted against me a little more. “We should go.”

  “Hold my hand,” I told her, and she readily linked our fingers together before pulling me toward the elevator. It was a few minutes before it arrived, and when the doors opened, our parents stepped off.

  They didn’t even blink at the way we were holding hands. “You two are heading out?” Dad asked as he pocketed his phone.

  “Dinner,” I told him.

  “We’re about to head out for something to eat ourselves,” Uncle Axton said. “We’ll see you at the show later. We’re going to watch from the audience since Emmie got us tickets.”

  “Good luck with that,” Shaw said with a laugh as she stepped into the elevator before the doors could close. “You’re going to get mobbed by the crowd.”

  “We’ll have security with us,” Aunt Dallas assured her. “You two have fun. Don’t get into any trouble.”

  Shaw waved and then tugged me into the elevator with her before pressing the button for the lobby. As the doors shut, she leaned into me once again, and I pressed my lips to the side of her head. The perfection of the moment wasn’t lost on me, and I closed my eyes, savoring this time with her being mine while I could.

  A lump filled my throat at the realization that, come Monday, I wouldn’t have this because she was so damn stubborn.

  Outside the hotel, I hailed a cab to take us to dinner. We could have taken one of the SUVs with Barrick’s security guys driving us, but I wanted to be completely alone with my girl and not have to worry about the guard gossiping to my brother-in-law about us.

  Once we were in the back of the cab, I pulled her onto my lap and thrust my hands into her thick hair. She met my kiss halfway, and we spent the entire drive to the restaurant making out. By the time the driver pulled up in front of the Italian place, we were both struggling not to rip each other’s clothes off.

  The driver knocked on the glass, letting us know he wanted us out of his cab, and I tossed him some cash before stepping out, pulling Shaw with me. I’d booked us reservations the night before, so the hostess was expecting us when we entered, but there was still a short wait since it was a Saturday night and the place was packed.

  Pulling Shaw off to the side away from the others who were waiting, I took out my phone and turned it so we could take a few pictures together. If this weekend was all I would be getting until I could talk her into giving us a real chance, I was going to take a couple photos to live off while I worked to make that happen.

  As I took a selfie of us, both of us grinning at the camera, Shaw turned and pressed her lips to my ear. “Did you know that the age of consent in New York is a hell of a lot different from California?”

  I shifted her so she was standing in front of me and hiding my erection. “I… Um… I hadn’t looked at the laws concerning…that,” I told her as I tried to get my cock to behave so the blood would return to my brain.

  She looked up at me through her lashes, her lips tilting in a wicked grin. “Well, I might have looked up the age of consent for the state of New York last night after I was in bed. And let’s just say, it was worth the search.”

  “Shaw,” I groaned. “Don’t do this to me. I’m already hanging on by my fingertips, baby. Please.”

  She pouted. “You said you wanted to show me what we could be like for the weekend. I thought maybe you would want to know that—”

  I cupped the side of her face and used my thumb to tilt her head back to meet my gaze. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” I told her. Pushing my hips into her, I let my cock flex against her, proving to her just how true my words really were. “But this, us… What we have, it’s more than just sex. I want all of you, Dimples. Every part of you, inside and out. Your smiles, your laughs, your sweet giggles. I want your tears—although they kill me, even when they’re because you’re happy. But I still want them too. I want your anger and your sass. I want to kiss you every chance I can get, and I want you beside me every damn minute of the day. And fuck yes, I want your body. I want to taste you and fuck you and make you scream my name.” I felt her tremble against me and smothered my groan by kissing her quickly. “But only when you’re ready.”

  “Maybe I’m ready now,” she murmured softly.

  “I’m not going to take something as precious as your cherry when you’re only giving me this weekend,” I growled against her ear so no one could overhear me. “I will die before I disrespect you like that.”

  “But I want to sleep with you tonight,” she whispered, her chin trembling. “I thought—”

  “What did you think?” I demanded when she broke off and turned her face away.

  After a small hesitation,
she finally looked up at me once again. “I thought this was supposed to be real. Even though it’s only for the weekend, I thought it was going to be…everything. Us. Together. In every way.”

  “It is,” I rushed to assure her. “But I can’t put my dick in you and then walk away from you like nothing happened on Monday. That would kill me, baby.”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said with a nod. “I get it.”

  “Do you?” I brushed my lips over hers one more time. “Because I don’t think you do. Or if you do, you’re not seeing the full picture.”

  “No, I really do get it,” she looked up at me, and I saw the sadness in her baby blues. “It’s already going to be hard enough to let go tomorrow night. If we went further than what we’ve already done, it would be agony. And I’m not ashamed to say I’m a chicken when it comes to pain of any kind. So, the less painful, the better.”

  “Or…” I paused and waited for her to respond.

  “Or…what?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Or we don’t let go come tomorrow night. We just stay together. No saying goodbye. This turns into forever.”

  I saw the way her eyes widened, the hope and need for this to be exactly what I’d just said it could be. But then she lowered her lashes, and I knew that she was thinking about Cannon and Violet and Luca.

  When she lifted her gaze back to mine again, there were tears in her eyes, which was like a punch to the gut. “Like I said, Jags, I’m a chicken when it comes to pain.”

  I bit back a curse and locked my knees before I dropped down in front of her and started begging. “Doesn’t it hurt now, when we’re not together? Don’t you ache when I’m not beside you? Doesn’t your heart cry when we’re apart?”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. “It does. But how much worse will that be when you break my heart again?”

  “I won’t. Not ever.”

  “You will,” she countered stubbornly. “It’s only a matter of time, but you will, Jagger.”