Wanting Shaw (Rockers' Legacy Book 5)

“What were you doing at eighteen, baby?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on her.

“I spent a lot of time in London when I was eighteen,” she said with a shrug. “Working. With other models. Male models. Hot, mostly naked male models.”

Growling something under his breath, he grabbed her and pulled her down onto his lap. Somehow, she didn’t spill a single drop of her tea. Laughing, she kissed him before lifting her blue gaze to me. “So no parties and no dates.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before glancing at the door that led into the kitchen. When I followed where her eyes had strayed, I saw Shaw watching us from the doorway.

Noticing I was looking her way, she stuck out her tongue at me and turned away. Giving me the perfect view of her ass in a pair of tight black leggings. Fuck. That ass had starred in every dream I’d had in the past year. Every damn one of them.

“No,” I told Aunt Dallas after I cleared my throat. “Just hanging out around here. If that’s okay.”

“Hell, I don’t remember the last time Cannon spent an entire weekend at home.” She took a thirsty drink of her tea, which I knew had enough sugar in it to cause anyone to go into a diabetic coma. If I took one sip of that tea, I would have been so high on sugar, I would have been bouncing off the walls. “I think this calls for a celebration. Let’s have a home-cooked meal,” she suggested to her husband.

“Who is going to be cooking?” he asked skeptically.

“I will.”

“Pass,” he muttered, and she flicked him on the nose, making him snap his teeth threateningly at her finger.

“Fine. Takeout, then. I just want a nice dinner with my kids home for the first Saturday in forever.” She kissed him again and then jumped to her feet. “I’ll even make popcorn after, and we can all watch a movie together in the living room.”

She was still talking as she went back into the house, making Uncle Axton shake his head at her back, but his eyes lingered on her ass as she walked away.

The hunger I saw in his hazel eyes was something I recognized. Because it was what I felt in my own gaze when I looked at Shaw.

Chapter 3

Shaw

The events of the afternoon before hadn’t even been on my mind until we sat down to dinner Saturday evening and Dad played the video I sent him of Mom literally busting some guy’s balls.

Jagger and my brother were laughing their asses off, cracking joke after joke until Dad told them why Mom did what she did. My brother lost his grin, but it was Jagger who pushed his tacos away so he could grab my hand and squeeze.

“Are you okay?” he half growled, and I felt a thrill travel up my spine, causing me to fight a shiver at his touch.

Hearing Cannon mutter something vicious under his breath, I reluctantly pulled my hand free and picked up my fork to dig into my rice and beans. “Nothing happened,” I assured him. “The guy was just looking at me. I’m a model. It’s my job to let people look at me, you know.”

“Not the way that fucker was looking at you,” Mom gritted out. “I’m just lucky the redhead was able to keep me from being arrested. It would have been worth it, though.”

I sighed heavily. Whether Mom wanted to admit it or not, we both knew that most of the photos I ended up starring in across the world were used as spank-bank material. It didn’t matter that I’d never done a nude photo shoot. Or that I was sixteen. I’d been modeling since before my teens, and I was aware there were some sick people out there. As did both of my parents. Which was one of the many reasons they had been so reluctant to let me start modeling in the first place.

But even back then, I’d known what I wanted and fought for the chance to prove I was strong enough and determined enough to succeed. At first

, Mom had been unhappy with my career choice. She’d been forced into the same profession by her own mother when she was a kid, and she had hated every moment of it. But when she saw how much fun I had, and how good I was at what I did, she’d eventually calmed down and started helping me climb the ladder to the top.

Now, I was one of the highest-paid models worldwide, and it was all because she had my back.

Deciding to drop it, I cut into my chicken burrito and stuffed my mouth with a huge bite, while around me, the conversation turned to something less explosive than the creep from the day before. But while Cannon and Dad talked about the new material OtherWorld would be working on in the studio in the next few weeks, I felt Jagger’s eyes on me.

Chancing a glance at him while my brother was distracted, I found Jagger with a murderous look on his face, but his pale-blue eyes were full of concern.

“I’m okay,” I mouthed, and he seemed to relax, if only a little. I reached forward and stole a bite of his nachos, making him grin and roll his eyes, but he pulled his plate back toward himself and picked up one of his tacos.

“What movie are we watching?” Dad asked as he picked up his and Mom’s now-empty dishes before nodding at Cannon to help.

“I thought watching a movie together was just a suggestion,” my brother grumbled. He took Jagger’s plate and stacked it on top of his own before taking mine and following Dad to the sink.

“Nope,” Mom told him, popping the “p.” “I haven’t had everyone home on a Saturday night in forever. We’re doing this. Decide what you want to watch, and how you want your popcorn, before I start making the choices for you.”

“I vote scary,” Jagger spoke up.