Stephen
V anessa sags on the bed, her body limp and sated with pleasure. I can’t help the wide smile that breaks out of my face. Even with the discomfort of my hard on, there’s a sense of pride at being able to give her what she needed.
I give her one last lick, groaning at the taste of her. I don’t want to think about the possibility of a repeat or even for a chance to keep doing this. All I know is, it’s time for me to get up and go. If I stay here, I would most likely beg her for things I’ve only ever wanted from her.
And I’ve learned my lesson.
She’s got an arm across her face and a hand on her chest. I commit this visual to memory, conscious of the fact that at some point she’s going to realize she regrets what we just did.
I look away and get off the bed, shoving a hand through my hair. I pick up the shirt from the floor, setting it next to her.
“I’m going to take a shower. There should be toiletries and clean towels in the bathroom for you to use.” I jerk my thumb behind me indicating the ensuite. “Just like the compound, there’s clothes in the closet. Take and change into whatever you want.”
It’s not until my hand is on the doorknob that I hear her moving.
“?” I look over my shoulder just in time to see her slipping the shirt over my head. The sight of her wearing nothing but my shirt, looking absolutely fucked and beautiful has me gripping the door like a lifeline.
“Yeah?” I force myself to act unbothered.
“What about you?”
I shrug, “What about me?”
“Aren’t you–” She frowns, her gaze catching on the obvious state of my cock still tenting my boxers. “It looks uncomfortable.”
Yes, it fucking is.
“I’m good. Just get yourself ready and I’ll drive you home when you’re ready.”
I leave it at that because if I stayed any longer, I would end up in that bed with her again.
I can only take so much temptation.
I give her an hour before I go looking for her but I don’t have to look too far.
My living room and kitchen are located in the middle of my penthouse, with the 2 bedroom suites separated out into different hallways for privacy. I had designed it that way for my sisters. Before I moved to LA, I was studying to be a doctor in San Diego. I purchased this space for them to have a safe and secure place to live. But things happened and plans changed.
After finishing highschool, Reese decided she wanted to pursue modeling full time and ended up living with a bunch of her model friends. Right around the same time, Ava got tasked to head our newly launched European division. After Dad had a series of health scares, I ended up dropping out of med school and moving to LA to help run the company until Ava came back to officially take Dad’s place as the CEO.
It was supposed to be me but I never wanted it. In fact I straight up refused it. I have given up a lot for my family but there was no way I was doing this too. Then Ava stepped in and fuck did she thrive at it. She was born for it, I’m just happy to support her in whatever capacity I can until it’s time.
I spot the note on the kitchen counter and immediately know Vanessa’s gone.
“Fuck.”
I pick up the note, tossing it on the counter after reading it.
S,
Thank you for helping me out. Both for last night and today.
P.S. Since you’re my new boss, Pls consider this my resignation.
Effective immediately.
I know it’s for the best. That we’ve crossed a line and we can’t ever go back. The less time we spend together, the better.
But I thought I had more time with her. How I left things felt wrong. I had decided when I was in the shower that I would clear things with her. I also received a call from Ben and Mr. Figgs, our family’s lawyer, before I came out here. There were some things I needed to discuss with her, regarding Pints and Twists .
Sliding onto the barstool at my breakfast bar, I bury my face in my hands and groan.
Memories of what we did earlier assault my brain. I wish things were different between us.
That we didn’t let time and our past build this much distance and animosity between us.
We could have been something.
Now it just feels like it’s too late for even a sliver of a chance.
But damn do I want a fucking chance.