Last Second Chance (36 page)

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Authors: Caisey Quinn

BOOK: Last Second Chance
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“You let me worry about what I deserve.” She draped a leg over his lap and resumed her previous straddling position atop him.

His eyes still held remorse, guilt, and something deeper, something she wasn’t sure was identifiable. A self-inflicted penitence he couldn’t seem to escape. She kissed his lips softly before he pulled back.

“So last night was a pity fuck then?”

“No,” Stella said evenly as she lifted her hips just enough to place his hardening length at her entrance. “Last night was because I love you. Because I’m in love with you. Bone-deep, soul-crushing, change-your-genetic-makeup love.”

His eyes widened at her confession. He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished.


This
is a pity fuck. And for the record, you’re pretty hot when you’re break-shit mad.”

He growled when she came down hard on him. Her walls accepted the thick intrusion readily, greedily pulling him inward and pulsating in response to the fullness. She arched backward, angling him onto the neediest place inside her.

His mouth sucked each of her breasts in turn, making her moan as she worked him in and out of her.

“I’ve had a rough life. I’m sure I’ll think of some more sad shit soon,” he promised as she rode him harder. “How much pity does it take for you to ride my face?”

Stella stilled momentarily before rising up and standing on the bed above him. She felt his eyes clinging to her throbbing sex.

“I belong to you, remember? Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

A
fter coming so hard he felt drunk, Van stumbled to the bathroom. He glanced at the shower, quickly choreographing the many ways he could take Stella Jo in it. He tried to piss, but his poor dick was so worn out it couldn’t aim for shit. Small price to pay in his opinion.

She was wrapped in his sheets when he returned to bed. Dreamy-eyed with sex-mussed hair. Fucking hell she was beautiful.

Even after he’d sprawled her onto his kitchen table and made her pussy his after sex dessert, licking her to orgasm after orgasm until she begged for mercy, she still looked at him with desire in her eyes. Tempting as it was to sink back into the warmth of her, he wanted to give her what she’d needed in more ways than just with his dick.

“You want to tell me more about those bizarre circumstances, cowgirl? The ones you learned about on your trip home?”

She snuggled in beside him and tilted her mouth up for a kiss. Which he gave her. There was nothing he wouldn’t give her.

Her fingers danced random patterns across his chest. “My mom isn’t actually my mom, not technically anyway. My parents used a surrogate to have me and… It was all just kind of… crazy. How it happened, I mean.”

Of all the things she could’ve said, he was pretty sure he’d expected that answer the least.

“And they just now told you this? Twenty-some odd years later?”

“I’ll be twenty-three next week,” she told him. “You know, in case you wanted to get me a gift.” Her mouth descended onto his chest.

He let his fingers tangle in her hair. “Oh yeah? I’ll see what I can do then.”

“Anyway,” she continued, propping her chin on his chest. “My biological mother’s name was Grace Whitman. She had an abusive boyfriend and…well, honestly, that’s about all I know about her. She died in a car accident with him when I was young.”

Van wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I’m sorry, baby. I know none of that probably felt good to hear.”

And then she’d come to him, and he’d been an asshole of epic proportions. Razor blades of self-hatred shredded his insides.

“No, it didn’t. But I had an idea. Grace’s story kind of reminded me of Val’s and it got me thinking.” Stella sat up suddenly. “What if there had been a place, a place where they could’ve went—somewhere they would’ve been safe, gotten help until they could get on their feet? Maybe they wouldn’t have ended up…like they did.”

“Like a shelter?” Van offered.

Stella bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Sort of. Just like… I don’t know. A safe haven where they could get counseling and have a roof over their heads until they figured things out. Grace’s Haven, I’d call it.”

Van sat up next to her. She was beautiful, this woman who he loved, who—by some miraculous gift from the universe—loved him back. Beautiful and selfless.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being here, it’s that we all have to find our own way, you know? Find a way to live our lives without letting regrets and mistakes and painful shit from the past dictate everything we do. Or don’t do.”

Stella smiled as if he’d just revealed the formula for world peace. She leaned forward and placed her lips on his neck. He felt his arousal building just from the decadent brush of her bare skin against his.

“Place like that would probably be kind of expensive to run and staff and all that.”

“Yeah. Probably,” she said against his throat.

“Well if there’s anything I can do to help out with that, you just say the word, cowgirl.”

This time when a knock came at his door, he really was surprised. Stella froze and sat upright. His usual visitor was sitting next to him, naked in his bed.

“Who do you think that could be?” Stella whispered as he got out of the bed.

“No idea.” Grabbing a pair of mesh shorts and yanking them on, he nodded at her to cover up. His good girl pulled the covers over her head just as he looked through the peephole.

Jesse Ramirez stood there looking panicked.

Van checked to make sure Stella was hidden from view before he opened the door.

“Kinda early, man.”

“Yeah, listen. If she’s in there, you need to get her out. Now.”

Van frowned. “Okay. Why’s that?”

“One of the nurses has pictures of you two together. They aren’t innocent. And they don’t leave much to the imagination if you get my drift. My dad’s making sure they don’t get leaked to the public, but he has to do something.”

Van roughly scrubbed a hand over his face. “All right. Any idea what that something is?”

“The policy is pretty clear on employee-client relations. All I know is they’re coming to search your room under a bullshit tip that someone slipped you some pills. And if they find her, you’re screwed. Er, metaphorically speaking.”

Van groaned. That wasn’t a bullshit tip. That was Vanessa’s crazy ass trying to ruin his life as usual.

“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll handle it.”

Jesse nodded. “Look, man. One more thing.”

Van leaned on the doorframe and waited. “Maybe you should just confess. Say you seduced her but she turned you down after you practically assaulted her. You’re famous. Shit won’t stick.”

“No,” Van heard Stella say from behind him. “He’s not doing that.”

Jesse appeared unfazed as she appeared beside him wrapped in a sheet.

“The facility isn’t exactly thriving financially. My dad’s a practical man. He cares more about staying open for clients than the rules. He can probably be bought.”

“We’ll figure something out, Jesse. Thank you.” Stella dismissed him easily.

Van shook his head. “Man has a point.”

“Stop. It will be fine.” She ran back toward the bed and dressed quickly.

Van blocked Jesse’s view intentionally. His eyes hadn’t missed an inch of Stella’s bare skin. He didn’t care what she thought. Jesse Ramirez was on the same team as him. And he was not going to see his girl naked.

“You’re not giving up your career for one I’m not even sure I want. Hang on, Jess. I’ll walk back with you.” Stella came up beside him and kissed him hard on the mouth. She held his face until his eyes opened to meet her penetrating gaze. “I love you. I belong to you. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He nodded, trying his best to ignore the unsettling feeling her words gave him as she walked away from him with another man.

She hadn’t even given him a chance to say that he loved her too.

 

“S
he what?” Van stared at the man across the desk.

“Resigned, Mr. Walker.”

He shook his head. “Cut the fucking Mr. Walker shit. You know who I am.”

They’d come for him a few hours after she’d left. Searched his place and found nothing. Except the red panties he liked to tie her wrists with.

Van had raised an eyebrow when one of the orderlies held them up. “What I wear on the weekends is my business,” he told the young guy, probably giving him a very unpleasant mental image of Van in those panties.

Dr. Ramirez shifted in his seat, returning his attention to the present. Van figured he was taking inventory of his breakable belongings. Smart man.

“She emailed me just over an hour ago. Said something had come up at home and that she was needed on her family’s ranch.”

Bullshit. Van wanted to scream. Bull-fucking-shit. She’d told him enough that he knew that wasn’t true.

The doctor acknowledged Van’s surfacing rage with sympathetic eyes. “She would’ve been let go, Mr. Ransom. And you would’ve been released for inappropriate conduct with an employee. She knew that. It’s all very clear in our employee conduct policy. She did the right thing. Can’t say we won’t miss her. But it was best for everyone.”

Like hell it was.

Van stood abruptly. What was the fucking point of all of this? Needing her? Letting her in? She knew his story, knew about Val. And she’d taken the fuck off anyways. Maybe that was what had finally driven her away. She’d given up on him. He couldn’t really blame her. He’d given up on himself a long time ago.

“She left this for you.” Dr. Ramirez slid a white envelope across the table. “She gave it to Dr. McLendon, but Miranda suspected you might not wait around for her to give it to you.”

Smart lady. He half-hated these intellectually superior people pegging him as if he were suddenly the picture of predictability.

But he took the envelope, catching a whiff of her scent as he did, and his anger began to dissipate.

“I’ll let you read it in privacy.” Before the doctor left, he held the door half open and made eye contact with Van. “Son, I’ve lived a few more decades than you. So at the risk of you destroying my office, I’m going to give you some advice.”

Van nodded, her letter burning a hole in his hand.

“Sometimes, it’s best to accept someone as they are. And sometimes, it’s necessary to allow them the time they need to become the best version of themselves.”

His chest heaved as his breathing elevated. “I don’t know which one of us you’re referring to exactly.”

The man met his stare and Van got the ‘my point exactly, dumbass’
sentiment immediately.

The door closed with a gentle click, and Van opened her letter. He wanted to tear through it, to devour every word. And at the same time, he wanted to read it at a snail’s pace. Slowly savor the one thing he had left of her.

The paper was stiff and creased. The noise grated against his exposed nerves as he unfolded it.

 

My Dearest Mr. Walker,

My hands are shaking as I write this. Because I know how very angry you’re going to be at me. I know how shameful it must look for me to leave this way, stealing our goodbye like a thief in the night. And I am praying this doesn’t hurt you in the way that losing your angel of darkness did. Because this is not goodbye forever. I hope you see that.

Please know, if there were any other way, I would have done it differently. But the ranch has policies, and they have proof. We were not always careful and I take full responsibility for that. I lost myself in you, in us. And I’m not sorry. Because in losing myself, I found my soul. But if I would’ve cost you your career, rendered all of your hard work these past few months pointless, I never would’ve forgiven myself. Please try and understand. This was the only way.

I didn’t say goodbye because my hope is that when you have finished the program at SCR, when you have returned to your real life, your rock star existence, you will think of me. Because you can be certain, whenever your plane touches down or the stage lights go up, in those brief moments of silent stillness, I will be thinking of you. Always.

You are so much stronger than you believe yourself to be. I am so grateful that you shared your strength with me. I am going home in hopes of discussing Grace’s Haven with my parents. You were right. It’s time to find my own way. Just as you will find yours. No more hiding from my future. I can only wish on stars in hopes that you’ll be a part of it. I didn’t say goodbye because I refuse to believe that our story is over. It will never end, because you are a part of me. A permanent part. You were right. I belong to you. Our paths will cross again. Because I love you. I am yours always. No matter where we are.

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