Wanting Shaw (Rockers' Legacy Book 5)

“Ass,” I tossed at him.

“Beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dickhead.”

“Love of my life.”

The breath caught in my throat again, but I quickly turned my head to look out the window before he could see how his words affected me.

“Shaw,” he muttered when I didn’t fire an insult back at him. “Can we please just have this weekend?”

I frowned and slowly turned my head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He moved so his back was against the door. “I mean, give me this weekend to show you that we can be good together. Let me prove to you that you won’t regret being with me. Just the next few days. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“What’s that going to change, Jags?” I demanded. After him calling me the love of his life, I’d already been fighting tears. Now, they were threatening to spill over, and I didn’t want him to see me cry. “A few days isn’t long enough to prove anything. It’s what comes after I give you a chance that scares me.”

“I know you’re scared.” Reaching out, he cupped my face. “But the only way to prove to

you I won’t break your heart is time, baby.”

“By which point, I’ll be too far in. My heart is already weak where you’re concerned,” I admitted. “I don’t trust it.”

“Then just give us both this weekend, and we’ll go back to how it’s always been on Monday,” he countered. “For the next two days, let’s pretend like nothing else matters but you and me. We’ll get some work done. Together. Play a little. Together. Let me call you mine, if only for a short time, Shaw. Give me something, baby. Please.”

The pain and desperation in his eyes twisted something deep in my soul, and even though I knew it wasn’t a smart idea, I found myself nodding. “Okay. Just for the weekend.” His pale-blue eyes brightened. “But when Monday gets here, we go back to just being friends.”

“Deal.” Taking my hand, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed my palm, causing goose bumps to pop up along my entire arm. “You won’t regret it, Dimples. I promise.”

I’d had to do photo shoots before. For album covers, posters, and other merchandise. Publicity for my record label or even just for Ma. Usually, Santana Conway was the director and photographer of those shoots, so I knew they would go smoothly. She was fun to work with and the wife of Tainted Knights’ drummer, Kale Conway, so I always knew I could relax and just be myself when I had to work with her.

When I walked with Shaw into the studio where her client had instructed her to show up, I felt a tension in the air as soon as the door shut behind us. I glanced around, already noting the people sprinting around to get things set up, while some guy in skinny jeans and a shirt at least a size too small only half buttoned up to show off his smooth chest was barking orders. His pale blond hair was styled, and his lips had a poutiness to them that broadcast the fact that they had some kind of filler in them.

Beside me, Shaw sighed heavily before lifting the venti coffee I’d shown up at her hotel room door with. Taking a sip, she pushed the cup into my free hand. “Don’t go far. I’m going to need that in about five minutes. Fuck, I hate working with Auden.”

“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.