Wanting Shaw (Rockers' Legacy #5) - Terri Anne Browning Page 0,100

him. It was a dead subject as far as I was concerned. Anything concerning us was. I’d moved on, gotten over him, and…

I was a liar.

I wasn’t over him. I hadn’t been able to move on.

But he didn’t need to know any of that, or that my heart was still very much engaged.

“Quesadilla sounds good to me.” I yawned and stood. “Do you think you can grab my case for me so I can shower?”

Surprise flashed in his eyes. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“I’m exhausted, Jags. Way too tired to even attempt to keep up with you right now.” I walked into the bathroom. “Grab my case and then order my food, please.”

While the shower heated up, I heard him bring my case into the bedroom. I walked out in nothing but a towel wrapped around my body to retrieve my toiletries bag and something to sleep in. I felt his eyes on me the entire time, and my traitorous body responded to his keen appraisal. But I ignored my painfully hard nipples and my drenched pussy as I walked back into the bathroom like I wasn’t ready to jump his bones at any moment.

Once the door was shut behind me again, I engaged the lock, not trusting him not to try to join me while I was in the shower.

Not trusting myself not to take him up on the offer if he did.

I took my time once I was under the powerful spray, letting the jets work on some of the tension in the muscles of my neck and shoulders. But as my muscles began to relax, my exhaustion only multiplied until it was taking all my effort to remain standing upright.

By the time I was dry, I was stumbling and half asleep. I was going to crash as soon as my head hit the pillow, which sucked because my stomach was already driving me crazy with how it was grumbling for food.

I’d been fine in London. The photo shoot for Remington’s car had drained me, however. But I hadn’t slept all that great the past two nights because of the time difference issue. I couldn’t sleep on commercial flights, especially if I was traveling alone. The seat beside me had been empty since Violet had stayed behind with Remington, but the idea of people I didn’t know or trust watching me sleep freaked me out. I could imagine too many Taken scenarios, starting with some perv watching me sleep and then abducting me as soon as I stepped off the plane.

When I opened the bathroom door, I stumbled and probably would have face-planted on the floor if Jagger hadn’t caught me.

“Whoa there, baby,” he murmured as he gently scooped me up.

Unable to hold up my head, I laid it on his shoulder and closed my eyes as he carried me to the bed and placed me in the middle. The covers were already turned down, and as soon as my head touched the pillow, he was pulling them up around me and tucking me in.

That was the last thing I remembered before he was placing a tray on the bed beside me, urging me to eat.

The smell of food forced me to open my eyes, but I couldn’t lift my lashes for longer than a few seconds at a time. Using himself as a prop, he moved me so I was leaning against him and fed me a triangle of quesadilla. With each bite, I got a different taste. Sometimes, he would dip it in salsa or guacamole or sour cream. My favorite was the house-made pico.

“Sleep now, Dimples,” he murmured, kissing my brow as he shifted me back onto the mattress and positioned my head comfortably on a pillow.

In my sleep-drunk state, I found myself begging him to hold me. I heard his sharp inhale, and then he was kicking off his shoes and crawling in behind me. The heat of his body as he pressed himself against my back, the utter feeling of completion at being in his arms again, sucked the final drops of energy from my body, and I fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 32

Jagger

After so long of not being able to see, touch, or feel Shaw whenever I wanted—and I’d wanted to every damn day—having her fall asleep in my arms was enough to bring a lump to my throat.

For the longest time, I just lay there watching her sleep. The bathroom light was still on, casting a soft glow over

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