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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.”
Before I could argue with her, the hostess appeared, telling us our table was ready. I clenched my jaw and linked my fingers with Shaw’s. “We’ll talk about this again later. But for now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the night. Please?”
She nodded, a sad smile on her luscious lips. “Yeah, okay.”
Chapter 17
Shaw
Our pre-dinner conversation left me feeling empty inside, but I was determined not to let that ruin the rest of our weekend. I pushed aside the ache in my chest and focused on having fun with the guy who was all mine for another twenty-four hours.
When the hostess showed us to our table, a booth in the back that was somewhat private given how crowded the place was, I pulled Jagger down onto the bench seat beside me and cuddled up against him instead of reaching for the menu the woman offered. She placed it on the table in front of Jagger with a knowing smile and a wink before promising our waiter would be with us soon.
As soon as she walked away, he lowered his head and brushed his lips tenderly over mine, making me gasp at the perfection of the moment. I kissed him back, wanting more of him, his taste, his hands on my body.
“Dimples,” he groaned when he lifted his head and pressed his forehead to mine. “I still have SNL tonight. Don’t make me go on national television with a hard-on.”
I laughed softly and put a few inches between us. “I would say sorry, but it would be a lie.”
