Last Second Chance (24 page)

Which infuriated her.

She knew it wasn’t rational. It wasn’t like she was waiting for him to ask her to the prom. But surely he didn’t go around tying up women and giving them violent orgasms like it was nothing.

Surely it had meant something to him? Hadn’t it? Hadn’t she?

Her birthday was coming up, and Miranda wanted to go out for drinks again. She liked the friendly woman, was excited to actually have a friend. But Stella was nervous. She was bursting at the seams and utterly terrified that she was going to pour out her every thought since Saturday on anyone who was willing to listen.

Despite the lost sleep and painfully vivid fantasies that had plagued her, she was going to get through the checklist with Van if it killed her. Which it felt like it might.

She was determined not to let him see how much he’d affected her. Logically, she should’ve been thrilled that he wasn’t doing anything that would have looked suspicious to Jesse Ramirez. But logic wasn’t a factor in the equation of how she felt about the mysterious man who had taken over her thoughts.

Her stomach tightened as the butterflies in it began forming a mosh pit. Wiping her sweaty palms on her white wrap dress, she took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

When he opened the door in nothing but a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his expansive and artful chest, she almost let out a hysterical giggle.

Holy hell, she wanted to lick that water from his body. Dragging her eyes up to his, she tried not to notice that they were sparkling with amusement.

“Have I caught you at a bad time, Mr. Walker?”

The left side of his mouth quirked up. “I’d say you caught me at the perfect time, cowgirl.” He opened his door farther.

Stella squared her shoulders. “There’s a checklist we need to complete. But there’s no rush. We can do it another time.”

Van’s brow creased. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you were off the clock and looking for a good time.”

A good time.

That’s what it was then. Apparently that’s
all
it was. The questions buzzing like angry hornets in her head dropped dead immediately. She forced herself to accept it for what it was and ignore the stomach-plummeting disappointment it caused.

What he called
a good time
had felt like so much more to her. Because she was naïve and obviously an idiot. Her chest felt strangely hollow.

“Perhaps we should do this in the Atrium. Let me know when is convenient for you.”

Just as she turned to leave, a warm hand gripped her upper arm. His grip was much tighter than Jesse Ramirez’s had been. Her eyes went wide as she took in his hand on her and the possessive glint in his eyes.

“Not a chance in hell I’m letting you go when you show up on my doorstep looking like
that.
”

She glanced down at the plain white dress and back at him.

“You look like a virgin being offered up for sacrifice.”

“I can assure you I’m not.” She focused on her breathing as she stepped inside. She hadn’t exactly been completely sober last time she was here. Nor had she paid much attention to the décor.

It wasn’t quite as cozy as her bungalow. She passed through a small kitchenette and spotted a black leather couch across from a fireplace. Her eyes landed on a giant buffalo head above the fireplace.

“That’s Dave,” Van informed her.

“You named him?” She couldn’t help but grin.

“He’s an excellent roommate. Never complains about noise and cleans up after himself.”

“I see.” She bit her lip to keep from giggling.

“Have a seat. Let’s get this checklist business over with so we can get to more important things.” He aimed a pointed glance at the table where he’d tongue fucked her nearly to death.

Stella’s entire body flushed to the point of painful burning. Ignoring his insinuation, she lowered herself onto a kitchen chair. Fighting off the memory of him growling against her open legs when that same chair hadn’t provided him the access he’d wanted, she pulled out her folder.

“Um, this shouldn’t take long.”

“I have all the time in the world, cowgirl.” He eased onto the couch and she looked anywhere but at him.

“You could, um, change. Or put some clothes on. I can wait.”

“I’m good,” he said with a shrug as he stretched an arm with intricate tattoos wrapped around it onto the back of the couch. “Unless you’re uncomfortable?”

Stella took a deep breath. She was as uncomfortable as it got. Her heart was racing, her pulse seemed to have sped to an astronomical rate, and the steady throbbing between her legs was causing her to sweat.

“It’s like you’re torturing me on purpose,” she admitted, pointing her pen at him.

His answering grin revealed that he was enjoying every minute of her discomfort.

“Now you know how I feel when you strut around in those fucking heels.”

Crossing her legs, Stella leaned back and focused on the checklist in her lap. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”

“By all means.”

Taking a deep breath in hopes of sucking in some courage, she read the first question carefully. “On a scale of one to ten, one being unsatisfactory and ten being ideal, how would you rate the accommodations here at SCR?”

Van glanced over at Dave and then back to her. “Dave says a ten. We rate it a ten.”

Stella circled the number ten and bit the inside of her cheek. He was nothing if not charming. Damn him.

“On a scale of one to ten, one being—”

“I got it, cowgirl. Read the questions and I’ll give you a number. Or better yet, circle all tens and take that fucking dress off.”

“That’s not quite how it works, Mr. Walker.” She gripped the pen tighter so he wouldn’t see her hands shaking.

“Oh, I know exactly how it works,” he said, leaning forward. “I know precisely how you like it, what makes you scream, and how to make you beg.”

Her jaw clenched as her lust-fueled desires sparked to life. Bastard.

“Question number two. How accommodating have you found the staff to be here at SCR?”

His grin turned smug. Irritatingly smug. “Oh, I think I’d say I’ve found the staff to be
very
accommodating. Definitely a ten.”

She narrowed her eyes. Did he mean her? Or the others? Were there others?

“Question three,” she began through gritted teeth. “Upon arriving, did you feel your privacy needs were adequately met?”

Van rubbed his fingers thoughtfully across the stubble on his chin. The stubble that had nearly rubbed her inner thighs raw.

“Hm. Let’s see. Upon arriving, I bumped into a beautiful woman who has sufficiently invaded my mind every day since. And now she’s sitting here while I’m wearing only a bath towel. So I’m not sure what that says about my privacy being respected.”

“You know what? We can do this another time.” Stella clutched her folder and stood.

“Whoa, cowgirl. Wait a second.” He stood and reached for her, closing the distance between them in a single stride. His arms encircled her waist and pulled her backward to his bare chest.

“Don’t,” she snapped, whirling around to glare at him.

“Easy. What’s wrong, Stella Jo? I didn’t realize you were actually getting pissed or I wouldn’t have kept screwing with you.”

Screwing with her. That’s what he’d been doing since day one. Everything he said poked at her exposed nerves and riled her inner turmoil all over again. The words she wanted to say, the questions she wanted to ask, wouldn’t make their way to her lips.

“You’re mad at me,” he said softly. “Really mad. As in not just messing around mad.”

“Rock star and a genius. Look at you.” She jerked out of his grasp.

“Beautiful and pissed. Look at you.”

She tossed him one last dirty look. She made it to the door before he said the words that stopped her cold.

“You’re mad at me because I made you feel. Because I got to you and you fucking know it. What I don’t get is why. Why is that such a bad thing? Is it because I’m not one of your pretty boys with a Ph.D. and a diamond ring I can’t wait to get on your finger?”

Listening to her own breathing in the silence that followed, she turned and faced him. She was a grown woman, for goodness’ sake. And not one who’d ever had a particular flare for the dramatic. She’d never stormed out on anyone before.

“No. It’s because…because what the hell are we doing?” She huffed out a breath loudly in exasperation. “I’m not mad. And even if I am, it has nothing to do with what you do for a living or jewelry. I’m…confused,” she admitted. Their gazes locked as she exposed her secret truth. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How I’m supposed to feel now. If I’m just supposed to be grateful for the experience and move on or if there’s more. Am I even allowed to want more? I mean, we’ve risked so much already and—”

“Baby, you are allowed to want whatever the fuck you want.” Van took the folder from her and set it on the counter before bracing his arms against the door on either side of her. “Tell me what you want right now.”

The simplest of words set his lips off in a sensual dance she couldn’t keep her eyes off of.

“You know what I want.”

He’d shown her. He’d known what she’d wanted, known even better than she had.

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me, cowgirl. Women like you confuse the ever-loving fuck out of me.” His forehead rested on hers. “A lot of people want a piece of me. I need to know if you’re one of them and which piece you want. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

His confession filled her with confidence. Letting her hands grab his deliciously defined hipbones, she shoved his towel to the floor.

“I don’t want a piece of you, Van,” she said, pushing him backwards.

His eyes widened as she advanced on him. “You don’t?”

“Nope.” When they reached the couch, she pressed on his chest until he sat. “I want,” she began, lowering so that she could kiss the taut muscles that had been making her mouth water since she walked in, “the whole thing.”

Dropping to her knees before him, she stroked his already fully erect length.

“I’ve got a few more questions for you.”

“Let’s hear ’em,” Van rasped out without taking his eyes from her hand on his shaft.

“How many women have you tied up?”

“You sure that’s on the questionnaire?”

She frowned at him.

He cleared his throat. “Um, ever?”

She nodded.

“A few.”

Stella Jo thrust her bottom lip out in a fake pout. “Well, they do say practice makes perfect.”

“Stella?”

She licked her lips as a bead of moisture formed on the head of his dick. “Yes?”

“If it makes any difference, you’re the first one I’ve done anything with while completely sober in about ten years. And you are hands-down, without a doubt, no fucking contest, the most beautiful woman who has ever whimpered my name and begged me to fuck her.”

She smiled up at him. “Well that was sweet. For you, I guess.”

“You said you wanted romance.”

“Did I say that?” She tightened her grip on him.

“Something like that.” Van shivered lightly beneath her. His cock twitched in her hand.

“You okay, Mr. Walker?”

His eyes burned into hers. “I’m wondering if you’re going to finish that fucking checklist of questions before you do whatever it is you plan to do with my dick.”

“Well that’s not very romantic, now is it?” She slid her hand down, enjoying how smooth the skin encasing his steel erection felt as she stroked him.

“I could recite some poetry.”

“Hm.” Darting her tongue out and licking the underside of him, she moaned at the sweet salty flavor of him. “I do love poetry. Let’s hear some.”

Surprisingly, he groaned out a few lines of a poem she knew. One of her favorites actually.

“If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or, being hated, don’t give way to hating, and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise.”

While he recited, she swirled her tongue around his tip.

“Fuck,” he groaned out when she finally took him completely into her mouth.

“I don’t recall that being in the poem.” She arched a challenging brow.

He threaded his fingers into her hair and continued. “If you can dream and not make dreams your master. If you can think and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools.” He paused and sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh
fuck.
Dammit, cowgirl, you’re going to make me come.”

Stella sucked him hard and fast, pumping him with her hand as she did. She ached to make him feel at least half as good as he’d made her feel.