“Nah…no the cotton. Yes…yes I’m sure.”

You eye him irritably. He’s been on the phone all morning. He had agreed to let your come along with him on his errands today and when he said it you were under the impression you would be spending it with him, not just in his presence. He’s barely even spoken to you despite the fact that you’d spent all morning with him and most of that was telling you to hang on a minute as he flipped open his cell phone and greeted whoever was on the line. When you woke up he was talking to his publicist, during breakfast it was his manager and while you’d been shopping it was Tim, who apparently was having some kind of epiphany in the studio. You consider yourself lucky he’s even going to lunch with you and not flitting off to spend the rest of the day holed up in a recording booth. Well, at this rate he’s going to be having lunch with the head designer of his clothing company, with you along for the ride.

“Not pink…because the other shirt is pink…Yes I know there can be more than one pink shirt in a line, Trevor I’m not fucking stupid… why don’t you try blue…”

You stare at him, watching him sigh irritated as he argues color schemes, watching him smooth his palm up his forehead like he does when he’s frustrated.

Yeah, you know all about being frustrated. It’s been days since you’ve seen him and you’d been hoping for an early morning romp but he was all business, and not in the sexy way you’ve played before, in the annoying, time consuming, ignore your horny girlfriend way that you hate so much.

He looks good today too. T-shirt hugging his chest just right, pants a little baggier than usual, hair grown a little long but not long enough to curl just yet. You lick your lips, leaning against him a little in the seat, eyeing the blacked out window separating you from the driver.

He’s still talking about colors as you place your hand on his thigh, his skin warm through the denim of his jeans. You smooth your hand slowly toward his inner thigh and his hand catches your wrist, shaking his head at you before returning to his conversation.

“Yeah… okay…okay I see what you’re saying…I still want blue though. Yes. Because I do…”

Your hand rests on his thigh again, waiting a beat before moving a little higher, fingertips rubbing soft circles against him and you smile as you approach the crotch of his jeans, fingers tracing his inseam. He glares at you.

“Hang on, man – What are you doing?” he asks, pulling the phone away from his mouth for a second and you give him an innocent smile. He eyes you warily, settling more in his seat. “Sorry man, what were you saying?”

You pout slightly, sitting back in your seat and glaring at him. You watch him for a moment before wrapping your arm around his neck, turning to sit on your hip and curling one leg underneath you. You run your fingers tips along his shoulder, your other hand going to his chest, rubbing soft circles against his sternum as you breathe against his ear.

His eyelids flutter as your tongue traces the shell of his ear before kissing just underneath the lobe. He clears his throat, squirming slightly, trying to pull back from you as he continues his conversation. Your lips trail down his neck, sucking softly on his jaw and he wriggles more, trying to lean to where your lips can’t reach his neck but all movement stops as when your hand slides down his chest and grips his crotch.

He stops speaking abruptly, inhaling sharply as you rub him slowly, feeling him harden under your palm. You can hear Trevor saying his name, asking if he’s still there. Justin swallows hard as your teeth graze the skin just over his pulse point.

“Y-y-yeah I’m here,” he stutters slowly, his hand gripping your wrist tightly but not pulling you away. “Okay…yeah denim. I’m listening.”

Oh, he won’t be listening for long. You smirk as you undo his belt buckle and he’s shaking his head at you mouthing “no” but you only nod your head at him slowly as you flick the button open and let his zipper down. His head falls back, his mouth falling open as you slip your hand into his boxers, feeling him warm and heavy in your hand. He squirms as you pull him out of his boxers and give him a slow stroke. He watches your hand move up and down his length, agreeing to everything Trevor is saying, responding in short hums and clipped ‘yeahs’.

He gasps as you lean down, your tongue reaching out to flick across the head, your hand still working him slowly. A strangled groan pulls from his throat as you wrap your lips around him and run your tongue along the slit, torturing him slowly.

He pulls the phone from his ear and holds it against his chest. “Bri…stop.”

You respond by sliding to the floorboard, pushing his knees apart to sit between them. You grip him in both hands and he whimpers, watching as you flick your tongue across the head over and over again. He puts the phone back to his ear.

“I-I-I have to go, man,” he says, his voice thin, shivering hard as you pull back and blow across the tip. “Y-yeah I’ll call you later.” He pants and snaps his phone shut, Trevor still talking.

He tosses his phone onto the seat next to him and slouches down further in his seat, widening his knees as he pushes your hair back from your face. He watches your tongue snake around the ridge, shivering when your find that little bead of skin just under the head. You take him into your mouth again, wiggling your tongue against it and he moans, his head falling back limply, eyes sliding shut in pleasure.

He cries out softly when you drop your mouth down onto him suddenly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he hits the back of your throat. A slew of curses falls from his lips as you drag back up slowly and he bites his lip hard as you let him slide from your mouth, flicking him with your tongue again.

“Come on, babe,” he whimpers, his hand cupping the back of your neck. “Don’t tease.”

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” you say lowly, your hand squeezing him at the base causing his eyelids to flutter.

“I’ve been working,” he whines, the hand on your neck tugging gently, trying to guide your mouth back to his aching cock.

“Mmmm I know something you should have been working,” you reply lowly, dipping your head to run your tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft. His mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“Bri…” he pants, his voice strained and pitiful. “please.”

And who are you to deny him. You grin at him before dropping your mouth down onto him hard, relaxing your throat so that he slides all the way in. He moans loudly, his hips lifting off the seat, his short nails digging half moons into the back of your neck. Your hands slip under the soft cotton of his t-shirt, feeling his stomach quiver as your mouth works up and down, dropping down fast and pulling back slow in that way you know drives him insane.

“Oh fuck babe,” he whimpers, biting his bottom lip hard, a low groan pulling from his chest. “Fuck…Bri…I’m gonna come.”

You feel him tremble as you work him harder, your tongue sliding around him the best you can. He lets out a small whimper, his palm moving to the back of your head as his hips tilt up and then his head falls back, mouth hanging open as he comes violently, you sucking hard, taking all he’s offering.

He relaxes against the seat, body loosening as he heaves a satisfied sigh. He grips your shoulders, tugging you up into his lap. You nibble along his neck, feeling his hands slide down your waist to grip your ass.

You squeal as the limo lurches to a stop and you scramble off his lap as the partition between the front and the back comes down. Justin works to button and buckle his pants quickly.

“Conway Studio, Mr. Timberlake,” the driver says and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I thought we were going to Dolce,” you say and he smirks at you licking his lips.

He doesn’t respond as he scoots closer to the door, waiting for the driver to open it for him. He steps out of the limo and you get ready to follow but he puts out a hand stopping you. He leans in, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I’m gonna run in and listen to this track real quick,” he pauses as he cups your face, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “and you’re gonna go back to my place-”

“What! No, I-”

“And you’re gonna wait for me,” he says, rolling over your protests and you’re silenced by the playful glint in his eye. “You’re gonna go upstairs…” he trails his hand down your neck. “and get naked…” his hand cups your breast, groping you quickly. “And wait…” his hand smoothes down your stomach. “for me to come home…” his fingers slip under the hem of your skirt. “and fuck you.”

You gasp as his long fingers brush against your panties, and he swallows it as his mouth claims yours. He smirks, pulling back and closing the door, leaving you dazed and hot, wanting him more than before if that is even possible.

As the driver pulls away from the curb, you watch him stroll down the street towards the recording studio, adjusting his belt. You lick your lips. Oh, you’ll wait for him alright. You smirk, settling against the seat. That boy’s not gonna know what hit him.