Last Second Chance

by Caisey Quinn

  She fastened her mouth hotly to his, stealing his breath, imprinting her words onto his heart.

  He felt it the moment it happened. A piece of her bright, shiny soul slipped away from her, lodging itself onto his black one. Purity among filth. Brilliant blinding light flared behind his eyes.

  It was too much, too powerful.

  He’d let go of some of his darkness to be worthy, but it would never be enough.

  “I’m trying, Stella Jo. Swear to God, I’m trying to be better,” he whispered, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her waist.

  Her fingers grazed through his hair. “I know you are.” She dropped to her knees, meeting him. He knew she meant to console him, but it was as if he were already dragging her down with him. Literally.

  “I can’t give you happily ever after. I don’t have that in me.” He was giving her an out, giving letting her go one more shot. But when she pulled his face to hers and kissed him eagerly—flicking her tongue against his lips like an addict needing a taste, he couldn’t even muster enough guilt to stop himself from kissing her back.

  “You’re the first, Van. The first person who’s ever truly made me feel wanted. Needed. Whole. I want to show you something.”

  She stood and he watched, awe-struck as she lifted her shirt over her head. Turning to the side, she revealed to him the words that left him speechless.

  The poem, the one he’d recited to her in a moment of intimacy, was inked in beautiful script across her skin. It began beneath her right breast and covered most of her ribcage.

  “It reminds me to be strong, like you,” she whispered.

  His entire body vibrated with the steadfast determination of his heartbeat.

  “I-I’m not strong. I’m weak. God, woman. You make me so damn weak.”

  She smiled wickedly as she pulled him to his feet. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to be strong enough for both of us.”

  “Any chance you’ll get my name on your ass now? Since you’ve already taken your ink virginity and all.”

  Her lips curved into a smirk. “Perhaps. Soon as you get ‘Stella’s’ tattooed on yours.”

  He stood and stared down at her. Her beautiful eyes pleaded up at him. The sensual mouth he loved more than words parted, opening for him, needing him. He might as well get it stamped on his fucking forehead. This woman owned him.

  “Make love to me, Van. Tonight. All night. Please.”

  “No need to beg, cowgirl. I’ve learned telling you no is a feat more challenging than I’m capable of.”

  “No safe word,” Stella whispered. “No stopping.”

  Lifting her, he carried her to his bed. Where they remained. The sun set at some point. And then it rose again.

  They didn’t notice.

  After having heard his confession, the tattoo on his back seemed to be calling to her. It was beautiful. But it was also regret, guilt, and the shame he carried with him everywhere.

  His angel of darkness.

  She didn’t know how to tell him or how he was going to feel about it, but after he’d ravaged her entire body—every inch, every opening—all night long, hiding things from him seemed impossible.

  Her parents had caged her in with the cold bars of secrecy. She wouldn’t do that with Van.

  “I have to tell you something,” she whispered in his ear. Pressing her naked body against his, she rocked her hips gently until he stirred.

  “You’re like a machine,” he groaned, rolling over to face her.

  “You love it.”

  He grinned, peeking out from underneath a heavily inked arm to look at her. “Yeah I do. So fucking much.”

  She kissed him, gently at first. Then more firmly as she rolled him over and climbed onto him.

  “Well good morning to you too, cowgirl. Must be bad news, I take it.”

  She frowned down at him. “What makes you say that?”

  Van moved the curtain of her hair to the side so that he could see her face. “Anything you have to tell me naked while riding my dick is probably not great. But I’ll live. And probably come before I have time to process.”

  She bit her lip. “I want us to make a rule.”

  “Oh hell.”

  “Shush. It’s a good one. I think.”

  “Does it include fucking every morning? ’Cause that’s a rule I could learn to live with.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No. It’s an ‘always be honest with each other’ rule. Even if it hurts. Even if it makes the other person break-shit mad.”

  “Break-shit mad, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “You got something to tell me, Stella Jo? I gotta warn you. If it’s that you slept with cowboy Ramirez after I pissed you off the other night, I am probably going to far surpass break-shit mad.”

  “Jesse?” Stella’s eyes went wide. “Pretty sure he’s gay, Van.”

  Van sat up so they were face to face. The movement rubbed her clit enough to make her moan.

  “Nut Huggers is not gay. He might be an off kind of dude, but I can tell you, he’s as straight as I am. And if you went looking, he’d have shown you just how straight he was.”

  “Well I didn’t. Go looking, that is.”

  “Good girl. So what’s the news?”

  Stella sucked in a breath. “There’s so much, Van. So much I want to tell you.”

  His eyes searched hers. “You can tell me anything, baby. Anything at all.”

  She nodded. “It’s just… My parents kept so many things from me. Growing up I felt so…unwanted.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Turns out I was so wanted that my parents went to some seriously bizarre extremes to have me. When I came to you the other night, I had learned some shocking and painful truths.”

  “And I turned you away because I am a fucking worthless—”

  “Shh.” She placed a finger against his lips. “That’s not why I brought it up. But I saw what lies and omissions of truth can do to a relationship. To a child. To a family. I won’t do that to us. Not when we’re just getting started. No, not ever.”

  He watched her intently, fitting the curves of her backside perfectly into the palms of his hands. “Okay. Well, I’ve been honest. I mean, there’s a lot more I can tell you about the past if you really want to know. But being here has taught me to look forward—to where I want to be instead of where I’ve been.”

  “Where do you want to be, Van?”

  He squeezed her ass tightly and began to lift her. His eyes drank in every exposed inch of her skin as he moved his cock between them. “Right about—”

  “Wait. I have to tell you something first.” Stella leaned back.

  Van’s eyebrows shot up. “Say it quick.”

  “I heard you. Heard your session with Dr. McLendon. The one about Val and the river. God, Van. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  His body tensed beneath her. She gripped his broad shoulders with both hands. “Van. Look at me, please.”

  Violent flares of anger flashed in his eyes like lightning.

  She was tossed roughly aside as he moved out from underneath her. Her knees knocked together as he abandoned her on the bed.

  “So much for this place having a privacy policy.” His words weren’t particularly harsh but there was plenty of venom in them.

  Stella scrambled to the edge of the bed and reached for him. But she was a fraction of a second too late. He moved out of her grasp and turned to glare at her.

  “Anything else you want to tell me? Did you run a background check too while you were at it?”

  She pushed back her rising panic and shook her head no. “Van, I didn’t mean to. I just…l—”

  “You didn’t mean to?” His voice rose to a roar. “The recording of my session was forced into your ears somehow?”

  Pulling in a trembling breath, Stella search for her old self, for her shield of armor that protected her from feeling. The one he’d stripped away. Because what she was feeling in that moment was afraid—afraid of
angering him and afraid of losing him—but mostly afraid of seeing a side of him she wasn’t prepared to handle.

  Wrapping her arms around her bare chest, she looked up at him. “No. It wasn’t forced into my ears. But I did hear the beginning by accident and then I couldn’t just cut it off. Just like I can’t just cut this—whatever we are—off. So yes, I listened to something I didn’t have permission to hear. And I’m sorry for that. But I just wanted to—”

  The sound of a kitchen chair hitting the wall kept the rest of her words locked in her throat. She didn’t even have time to finish flinching before he let his rage loose.

  “You wanted to hear it? You want to know what it’s like to see someone you love be destroyed right in front of you? See the light in their eyes go out as they succumb to the voices and the memories and the darkness?”

  She felt like that was precisely what she was seeing at that very moment.

  “Van, please—”

  “She was a fucking kid, Stella. A fucking kid. And they…and I… Then she was gone. You don’t want this. You don’t want this mess, my mess, my messed up shit.”

  She felt his pain as if it were being inflicted upon her in that moment. The ache of loss and guilt settled into her bones as her heart took the brunt of his brutal memories.

  Miranda’s words came back to her. If she was going to stand in his corner, there would likely be some bystander injuries. She was relieved to discover she didn’t care. Unless he flung another kitchen chair and it knocked her unconscious, she was going to do whatever it took to soothe him. Just like she knew addiction didn’t have a cure, she knew pain like this couldn’t be loved or fucked away. But maybe it could be eased. Embraced with acceptance and understanding.

  “I want you, Van. And everything that comes with you. I told you that. I said I wanted all of you and I meant it.”

  “You have no idea what you’re saying, cowgirl. No fucking idea.”

  “Show me then. Show me your worst, Van. I won’t run. I can take it.”

  His anger seemingly subsiding, he lowered himself onto the bed beside her.

  “I don’t want you near me when I lose control, Stella Jo. You deserve better than that.”

  “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.”

  After 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.