Authors: J.C. Grant
“It's fine. It's not a problem,” I spoke up.
“Yeah, it is. She did the interview. So you got any follow-up questions, ask me,” David growled low.
After a moment, Joshua cleared his throat, then asked, “How did he propose to you? You—how did you propose?”
“I told her she was going to marry me eventually, one way or another, so she should go ahead and do it now,” David deadpanned.
I knew what he was doing, making himself out to be the bad guy, which meant the media was negative toward me.
“David, you did not.” I couldn't stop myself from defending him from himself.
“Yeah, I did,” he countered gruffly, letting me know he was handling this.
“It was
way
sweeter than that,” I corrected.
It was silent for a moment. Then Joshua asked, “What did you think, having David Taylor approach you?” he asked robotically.
“She didn't know who I was, and when she found out, she refused to see me again.”
Devon started laughing. “Oh, girl. You're not into baseball?”
“No,” I admitted, relieved to have the tension broken.
“Oh, hell. I bet you were thinking ‘Get this playa away from my ass!’”
“That's exactly what I was thinking,” I laughed.
I felt a large hand on my thigh, squeezing. David was teasing, reprimanding, and comforting me all at once.
“I hope it's only a five-year arrangement. You'll still be gorgeous when you're free of him.” I didn't know if this was Joshua's attempt to get dirt or just snide comments thinly veiled as jokes. Either way, they were offensive. And if I was offended...
“This isn't an arrangement,” David said darkly. “She isn't going to be ‘free’ of me.”
“David.” I knew those comments would ramp him up. He was too protective of me to let it go.
“All I've heard is that you're a gold digger,” Joshua continued. “But he won't even let you speak.”
“She can do whatever she wants.” His voice was rising in anger, at having to defend me or our relationship or being accused of controlling me. Probably all of the above.
“David,” I warned.
Joshua wanted dirt on us, on me, and David was close to giving it to him. I knew he wanted to take the heat, be the bad guy to get them off me, but I didn't want the article coming out and being a bash piece on him.
“I'm good, sweetheart.” His soft growl soothed me. Even though I knew he wasn't good, he wanted me to know he could handle it.
“If you have any more questions, feel free to call me,” I excused Joshua brusquely, before David could say anything else.
“Ah. Sure—yeah. Of course.” He seemed taken aback my assertiveness.
Devon finally let me lift my head, so I could look at David.
“He pushed,” David defended when our eyes met in the mirror. “It pisses me off. He basically called you a prostitute. Then a gold digger. Said I'm fucking controlling you. Like I'm
forcing
you to be with me.”
And that was the root of the problem. He didn't want anyone suggesting I didn't want to be with him for
him
. It seemed he had some insecurities about that. Maybe because I was so reluctant in the beginning. Or like he'd said before:
I have one foot out the door
. But I didn't anymore.
Do I?
“Okay, beautiful. You're ready.” Devon masterfully ignored David's mini-tirade.
I finally looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was in sexy, loose waves and my makeup was a natural, just-fucked look.
My eyes met David's again. He gave me that sexy half-smile and winked, then stood, offering me his hand.
“Where's her wardrobe?” David inquired, helping me up.
“You don't know?” Devon asked with a wide-eyed look.
“Know what?” David and I responded in unison.
“She doesn't have wardrobe. She will be covered strategically, but no clothes.” His words were cautious.
“No.” David didn't hesitate. “She's not.”
“David.” I pulled at his hand.
“No, Austin,” he said, looking down at me. “Just—
Fucking
no
.”
“You wear damn near
nothing
in your shoots.” I hissed. “Don't tell me
no
.”
“Goddamn it, Austin.” His jaw clenched.
Turning to Devon, I asked, “Is there a robe?”
“Yes,” Devon answered quietly, as if his voice alone would set David off.
I pulled away, following Devon to a dressing room, leaving David behind. The possessive rage radiating off him had my pulse pounding. Before I shut the door, David was there shoving his way inside with Chance.
“Austin, please,” he begged quietly, shutting the door. His expression was hard, eyebrows drawn together, jaw clenched.
“David, it's fine. You're here. Nothing's going to happen.” If I was being honest, the only way I could do this was with him here, knowing he would never let anything happen to me.
“Of course not!” he whisper-yelled. “I don't want these people—”
“David, this is no different than your shoots,” I tried to reason, then shifted to challenging. “Nothing happens at those. Do they?”
“Not unless
you're
there.”
“People see you almost completely naked.” I pleaded with my eyes. “Please don't undermine me.”
His expression softened. “I wasn't trying to undermine you. But—”
“I get it,” I said, taking off my shirt. “I didn't like seeing you wearing those tiny underwear when I walked into your photoshoot. I don't like that the entire world sees you like that or that you can see every contour of your ass on a billboard on Sunset Boulevard.” I finished my rant as I pulled off my boots and socks, then leggings.
He looked at me with a mixture of lust, anger, and possessiveness. His hands slid over the bare skin of my hips. His fingers dug in and he yanked me flush to him. “This is for me. Only me.”
He held me like he owned me; it was comforting. It made me feel safe.
Then his tone and expression shifted to serious and a little sad. “I don't want to share you. With anyone.”
He seemed to feel like he was losing something.
When I didn't respond, he added softly, “I don't think this'll be good for your image.”
I thought about that. If the press was already negative, nude or partially nude pictures would probably only exacerbate it.
“I've got an idea that'll be perfect,” I whispered mischievously.
I pulled on the robe, securing it around me, then quickly led David toward the makeup room.
“Hi, I'm ready,” I announced as David grumbled his disapproval.
Devon took us over to the staged area, making quick introductions. I took the photographer, Anthony, aside and explained David's reservations. Then offered my solution.
He readily agreed.
I approached David, who was trying to occupy himself with Chance.
“Take off your shirt, babe.”
He looked at me for a brief moment. Then his eyes narrowed slightly before he peeled his shirt over his head, obeying me without question. His growing smirk let me know he was more than happy with whatever I had in mind.
Taking his hand, I led him to the spot the assistant indicated. “Get on your knees.”
David complied without hesitation, his smirk turning into his sexy smile, his perfect, white teeth showing.
“Now, cover my boobs with your hands.”
His hands shoved the lapels of the robe aside, covering as much of my breasts as he could.
“Now, just keep your head in front of me.” I smirked.
His chin pressed to my pubic bone, rubbing.
I opened the robe and David tensed.
“I'm covered,” I reminded him quietly. “You're covering me.” I slowly let the robe fall away.
I thrust my hips toward his face, distracting him from our surroundings. His eyes focused on mine with a heated glare. I did it again and he leaned close, gently biting my pubic bone.
Fuck
. I was getting wet.
Biting my lip, I watched him watching me.
“Eyes up.” I heard someone say.
When I looked up, everyone was in place, photo after photo being taken.
“David, turn your head,” Anthony directed.
David did, but continued looking up at me as he nuzzled his scruffy cheek against my mound.
“Austin, show off that ring.”
I did, placing my hand on the back of David's head. His face pressed harder into me. Nuzzling.
“Perfect. Just like that, David... Like you worship her.”
“I do.” David's voice was deep and rough and alarmingly intimate. His conviction caused an eerie silence to fall over the room.
A few breaths later, Anthony asked, “David can you pull your jeans down some?”
“Not taking my hands off her tits.”
“Devon, could you?” I asked.
Devon darted over, eagerly pulling David's jeans halfway down his ass.
“Austin, look away, like you couldn't care less that you have this rich, godlike man worshiping you.”
I saw a flash of something in David's eyes before I looked away, something I never wanted to see again.
Only a few short minutes later, Anthony announced, “Okay, guys. I think we have enough.”
David stood, covering me, and I quickly put the robe back on—with David's aggressive assistance.
I tied the belt, and then David cinched it tighter before pulling his jeans up. I felt chastised as I walked over to Anthony to thank him for being understanding of David's issues, which was completely ridiculous considering David was an underwear model.
Chance followed us to the dressing room without prompting. Once we were inside, David leaned his big frame against the door, crossing his arms.
“I'm really not comfortable with everyone seeing you like that.” His tone was half apology, half disapproving.
Untying the belt, I let the robe fall away. As always, David's gaze lacked subtlety as I put my bra on.
“Are you going to stop modeling underwear?” I questioned as I dressed.
His mouth opened in protest, but his retort died and a look of understanding crossed his face. His eyes met mine and the sadness there hurt me more than I was comfortable with.
“Don't do anything like that again without me,” he muttered sounding defeated.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
As soon as my boots were laced, I grabbed my purse and David was leading us out, giving me just enough time to say some brief good-byes before heading out into the now-full parking lot. He opened my door, helping me into the truck, then got Chance in. I couldn't stop thinking about that look in his eyes during the shoot or in the dressing room. When David folded into the driver’s seat and pushed the ignition start, I said,
“David, I want you.”
He paused, looking over at me, his questioning gaze was quickly turning heated.
“I want to be with you,” I explained. “I can't imagine
not
being with you now.”
He leaned into the seatback. “So you're done thinking about leaving me?”
Apparently, the only person in our house I was fooling was myself.
“Why did you act the way you did in there?” I countered, hoping to help him understand.
He turned toward me, his arm on the console. “Because I don’t want anyone seeing you like that. I don't care if anyone else is bare assed, spread eagle. Just not you. You are for
me
. And
only
me.”
That was quite the leap. I was nowhere near being spread eagle, but I understood him.
“It's the same thing. I can't even
think
about you being with anyone else, I can't handle it. It hurts too much. I don't want there to
be
anyone else. You're
mine
.”
Something sparked in his eyes at my declaration.
“There isn't anyone else... I never had
anything
before you. I'm
yours
... I've
never
belonged to anyone. Only you,” he insisted vehemently, his voice rough with emotion. His hand gripped my nape, pulling me forward until our noses were touching.
“Open,” he breathed against my mouth. When I obeyed, his head tilted and he licked inside with long, hot, wet strokes. Sliding in and out of my mouth with sinful skill.
I felt his energy shift as he hooked an arm around my waist, hauling me into his lap, manhandling me into position, until I was straddling him. A shiver ran through me as I settled on him, the ridge of his jeans on top his quickly growing erection, applying pressure in all the right places.
“You okay?” he asked, pressing two buttons on the door with one hand while the other slid under my shirt, finding the bare skin of my waist.
At his warm touch, a soft noise left me, the sound of David getting whatever he wanted. That's all it ever took, one touch, and I melted for him.
Staring at his sculpted lips, I nodded and leaned in, bracing my forearms on the hard swells of his shoulders as the seat slowly reclined and slid back, giving us room.
Little jolts of pleasure shot through me as his swelling cock tormented my clit with this new angle. My heartbeat kicked up, my breathing turned shallow as my pussy quivered in need.
His breath hitched as I shifted.
I loved that he was as affected as I was. That he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Cupping the back of my head with a broad, gentle hand, he pulled me closer, our noses grazing. Our breaths heavy and warm between us. His dark gaze met mine, holding me captive before falling to my lips.
“
Goddamn
, you're sexy,” he growled before claiming my mouth in a hungry kiss, swallowing my moan with his own as his tongue dipped in. His hips churned restlessly, as his greedy hands moved lower, driving mine down, pressing my clit against the ridge of his zipper as he moved. The friction was enough to set my body on fire.
“Say it again. Tell me I'm yours,” he said hoarsely.
Holding his intense gaze, I whispered, “You're mine.”
His mouth was on mine again, his tongue slid in, stroking with explicit long licks as his hands moved lower, gripping my ass hard. Then lower, fisting the fabric between my legs, the seam giving under his insistence.
“David!” I complained, shocked.
“I'll buy you as many as you want,” he promised huskily, unbuttoning his jeans, then lifting me enough to push them down to mid-thigh.
His frantic movements betrayed his excitement, reminding me of a teenage sexual encounter. It was sweet and sexy. And extremely arousing.
“You wet?” he asked as two big fingers dipped inside.
I groaned at the intrusion, arching into his touch. But those two crude words in that gruff, excited voice... It got me so much hotter than sweet nothings or dirty talk ever could. Because with David it was real, it wasn't some act to turn me on. He was foul mouthed, filthy, and sweet as hell. And he loved the fuck out of me.
He made a ragged sound of approval, finding me wet and swollen, and those fingers plunged deeper.
“
Oh, God,
” I moaned.
Then remembering our public location, I whispered, breathlessly, “David, we're in a parking lot.”
He brought his fingers up, evidence of my need glistening and thick. Licking them once, he groaned, a deep throaty sound that raised the hair on my arms. His half-lidded gaze watched me closely as he touched his middle finger to my lips. “Taste yourself. Taste how much you want me.”
My tongue snaked out, licking the tip before taking his thick digit into my mouth, sucking, my flavor mingled with his salty skin.
“
Oh, fuck
,” he groaned. “We're doing this here.
Now
. I need this.” Gripping his hard cock, he positioned it at my entrance as I switched to his other finger.
“
Fuck
, that's hot.” He tilted my hips, and thrust up, feeding me the tip of his dick. His gaze locked on his digit sliding into my mouth and he demanded quietly, “Suck it.”
Overcome by a violent hunger, fueled by his demand and the wide crown nudging inside me, I lost myself as I grabbed his hand, working his finger like I would his dick.
“You wish that was my cock, don't you?”
A deep groan bubbled out of me as I lowered my hips, taking his thick head into me, sucking his finger like a porn star. Telling him
fuck yes, I do
. His cockhead throbbing inside me, had my core fluttering around him, pulling frantically, desperate to be fucked. David didn't hesitate, giving me what I wanted. Thrusting up in quick movements, he let out a guttural groan as he worked his cock deeper with urgency. His desperation, his need for me was soothing. Relaxing. I laid down on him still suckling his finger, our bodies flush, my head on his shoulder, his cock sinking deeper.
“Oh fuck, yeah. Let me in, sweet girl.” He grunted. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me down, forcing his full length into me.
The stretching ache was welcomed, I needed it. And now my clit was positioned perfectly, getting delicious friction.
When I released his finger, he buried his hand in my hair, tucking my forehead into the crook of his neck. My hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his obscenely defined abs up to his thick pecs, finding his nipples, teasing them to hard peaks.
“
Oh, fuck
,” he breathed as his eyes closed.
Breathing him in, his sweet exotic smell invaded my senses full force. His harsh grunting breaths as he moved in and out of me had me crazed.
Horny.
My hips shifted, frantic uncoordinated movements, rubbing my clit on the base of his shaft, chasing my climax. Sharp streaks of pleasure shooting through me as the tension built.
“Say it again.” His voice was rough in my ear.
“You're mine.”
“Fuck, yeah,” he grunted. His arm tightened around me, muscles trembling as he desperately pursued our orgasms. Buried deep inside me, his thrusts were short and measured and powerful, hitting my end with purpose. “Keep saying it.”
“You're mine. I'm never going to share you.”
“Yes,” he moaned, losing control.
“David,” I breathed, giving up, letting him do the work.
“Yeah, let me fuck you. Just let me fuck you,” he rasped hoarsely, a low rumble vibrating his chest with each breath.
Within seconds, everything in my core tightened. I focused on his hard body under me, his thick cock stretching me with each deep thrust.
“David,” I breathed, feeling my pussy flutter then pulse around him rhythmically as my orgasm rolled through me.
“Fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes. Come on me, sweetheart.” His raspy voice pleaded.
Knowing I made him like this, desperate and needy, wanting me. Begging me to come on him... I felt powerful, feral.
I could control him.
That realization had a new heat racing through me, setting off another pulsing orgasm, more intense than the first.
“Yes,” he groaned as his hand tightened, pulling me down harder. Then his cock jerked inside me, heat bloomed in my clenching core as he came.
We stayed like that—breathing hard, our hearts pounding—as his length pulsed inside me.
“I love you,” I breathed after a moment. Then I pressed my lips to his strong jaw.
He swallowed thickly.
“I worship you. I'd kill for you,” he rasped, barely above a whisper.
His intensity scared me, but it also let me know that everything going on bothered him a lot more than I thought. And I immediately regretted ever wishing he was more upset by the situation.
I lifted my head, opening my eyes.
Chance was looking at me with his head tilted.
“We just gave Chance a show,” I groaned.
“He's not the only one,” David huffed a laugh.
“What?” I looked around to see three men standing in front of the car watching us. One was the photographer's assistant. I had no idea who the other two were.
David gently lifted me off, without exposing my ass to the nosy men. I fell into my seat and pulled my legs over the wide console.
I noticed David looked pleased. Smug.
“You don't care they were watching us have sex, but you freaked about me being nude in a very non-sexual environment?”
“You aren't nude for one.” He pointedly looked at my clothed body as he pulled his jeans up. “But it's kinda like them seeing me pee on you. Standing in there, it's a neutral place, but seeing me with you—” he paused, considering his next words as he tucked himself in, zipping up, “—it's a claiming, male dominance thing. I guess.”
“You guess?” I was disbelieving as I searched for baby wipes.
“Never had the instinct before, but yeah. That's the best way to describe it.”
He took the baby wipes from me and quickly, but thoroughly, cleaned me up, stashing the trash in the center console.
“This is so weird sitting in the truck with the crotch ripped out of my pants.”
“Just take the leggings off, sweetheart,” he laughed. “We're going home.” He buckled up and backed out.
I wrestled them off as he drove.
*****
We stopped by the house to change, before heading to the gym. On the way, I texted my mom about what was going on with Zach, Mathew, and Dawn. Curiosity got the better of me and I Googled our marriage.
It was a mistake.
Apparently, I was a gold digging whore. I couldn't help but wonder if that was why he was still trying to isolate me. Keeping me at home or the gym.
*****
Tara: Heyyy, I left a dress at your
place. Can I get it real quick? HOT
date tonight.
8:39 PM
When I received Tara’s text later that night, I was thrilled to have an excuse to leave the house. Despite the loud, rough fuck against his office door at the gym, I was still uneasy. A tiny bit insecure. David left an hour before, having a dinner meeting with his manager. He asked me to go, but after seeing what the press was saying about me, I wasn’t up for it. Although I didn’t tell him that.
Austin: Meet you there in 45.
8:40 PM
I didn’t bother changing out of my sweat shorts and holey tee, it would take the entire forty-five minutes to drive the eight miles over to my house on a Saturday night and Tara had seen me in worse. I slipped on a pair of flip flops and grabbed my purse. I considered texting David before I left to let him know what I was doing, but I didn’t want to distract him from his meeting.
Turned out I didn’t need to.
I was almost in Silver Lake when my car flooded with ringing.
“Where you goin’?” David demanded when the call connected.
I had the surreal realization that he randomly pulled up the tracker for my phone and/or car for no reason—he thought I was at home watching TV. Was he checking up on me because I didn’t want to go? Did he do it all the time? I was a little surprised he was that controlling and insecure.