33. Stefan
33
STEFAN
Samantha and Penn are amazing people, I can see why Wren is, well, Wren. She’s the perfect combination of both her parents with her own unique touch added for good measure. I cannot remember the last time I laughed so much.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” Penn says as we sit in the lobby bar of their hotel. At dinner earlier, I did the sneaky “I’m just heading to the bathroom” but instead, I paid the bill. Penn demanded I let him buy a nightcap, and here we are.
“It’s my pleasure, sir.”
Wren and her mom laugh, garnering our attention. In the dim light of the bar, Wren has never looked more beautiful or relaxed. Earlier, when we dropped off the car, she ducked up to her room and slipped into a vibrant orange halter dress. The material caresses her curves and highlights her tits perfectly. The urge to tell her how beautiful she looks overtook me but we don’t have that kind of relationship. So I bit my tongue and kept my dirty, unsavory thoughts to myself.
“We better get going,” Wren says. She just caught me checking her out. Her cheeks darken but she doesn’t say anything. “Stefan needs to get home, and I need my beauty sleep.”
“Not that you need it,” I mumble to myself. Clearly, it’s louder than I intended because three people are currently staring at me. Wren in shock. Her mom has a whimsical look on her face, and her dad, well, he looks constipated with a touch of “don’t hurt my baby girl.”
We say our goodbyes and then Wren and I head back to the house. When we approach the bar around the corner from home, my first instinct is to keep walking. I feel proud because the old Stefan, would have wandered in for another drink … or twelve.
Tonight, however, I keep walking.
Not even a group of bunnies purring my name or flashing their tits can sway me. Looking over—hey, I’m a man and they’re boobs—I smile but shake my head and keep walking. Reaching out, I rest my hand on Wren’s lower back and I increase our pace.
“You sure you don’t want to stop?” Wren asks when the girls start shouting out louder.
“Nah, I’m good.”
She nods and from the corner of my eye, I see a smile appear on her face. That little lip lift puts a pep in my step for the rest of the way home.
We reach the house and I unlock the front door. Stepping aside, I let Wren in first. “Nightcap?” I offer as the door clicks closed behind us.
“I’d like that,” she agrees.
Nodding at her, I walk into the kitchen and get the bottle of Baileys from the refrigerator. Then I grab two tumblers and pop two cubes of ice in each. Pouring our drinks, I pick up hers and she takes the offered glass. When our fingers brush, a current zaps from her to me and her breath hitches. Silently we stare at one another as we sip on our drink.
“Shall we sit?” she asks and I nod.
With our drinks in hand, we head into the living room and I drop down onto the sofa. Wren plops down next to me. She places her glass on the coffee table and leans forward to slip her shoes off. Sighing as she does.
“I don’t know why you chicks wear shoes that hurt your feet.”
“’Cause they add height and these babies”—she points to her shoes on the rug—“make my legs and ass look amazing.”
“Your legs and ass look amazing without them,” I tell her, and hand on heart, I mean it.
Wren is the ultimate fantasy girl. Her figure is amazing. Her tits are what wet dreams are made of. Her eyes are a vivid-blue that suck you in. Her hair is as dark as a midnight sky. Normally, I like long hair but Wren’s is cut in a short blunt bob, and it’s the epitome of sexy. Her lips are plump, and from the memory of that time I kissed her, they’re soft and delicate.
“Such a man response,” she teases as she picks her drink back up and takes another sip.
“Just stating a fact.”
She laughs and shakes her head. Finishing her drink, she places the empty glass down and tucks her legs up underneath her. For the next few hours, we swap stories, tell jokes, and just relax. “Tell me something honest, Stefan. Tell me something that no one else knows.”
Turning to face her, I bend my knee and shuffle around. My leg rests against hers and I think about her question. “When my nanna died. just after I was drafted to the Crushers, I thought my world was over. She had my back, no matter what. It was us against the world. That was the start of my demise. Without her guidance anymore, I was lost. Sure, Dad was there, but he had another family and would just throw money around to make my antics go away or to get me what I wanted. You could say that thanks to my dad, I became a spoiled brat. I started to lash out because life is cruel. I lost my mom and brother when I was fifteen, and then in my early twenties I lost the last of my family who ever truly loved me for me. I didn’t want anyone to get close again because I would eventually lose them too. You asked me why I sabotaged my relationship with Chels, and I think it was a form of self-preservation. Things were serious between us and I got scared. Rather than acting like an adult, I self-combusted and spiraled.” I pause and take a deep breath. “When Alicia told me she was pregnant, I got swept up in the idea of having a family again. I look back now and all the signs were there, but I was blinded by the possibility of having a family again. I was going to hold on with everything I had because family means everything to me.”
“I had no idea.” She reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh.
“And why would you? I always play my cards close to my chest. I don’t easily let people in but…”
“But what?”
Looking over to her, I stare into her eyes. “I think it’s time I let someone in.”
She nods and stands up. “I think that’s a good idea, and I’m happy you’ve made that choice, Stefan.” Resting her hands on my shoulders, she leans down to kiss my cheek. It’s nothing more than a friendly gesture but for some insane, fucked-up reason, at the very last second, I turn my head, causing her lips to land on mine.
Her eyes widen as our lips press together.
Time stands still as our lips touch.
One heartbeat turns into two.
One breath turns into two.
Our exhales mingle together and the air around us comes alive.
“Stefan,” she utters my name. Her breath fans across my mouth and that one word is laced with warning and want. Before she can say anything else, I kiss her again. Gripping her ass, I pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling me and I give her no opportunity to pull away. One arm bands around her lower back and the other slides around her shoulders. Slipping my fingers into her luscious locks at the back of her head, I hold on to her firmly as my tongue plunges in and out of her mouth.
Desire slams into me when she starts kissing me back. And when she moans into my mouth… Game. Fucking. Over.
We’re only kissing but I could come just from the feel of her lips against mine. Her pussy rubs against my growing erection. Wren Brookes is perfect in every fucking way and then there’s me. Stefan D?uchmen the mess. I have the world at my feet and somehow, I manage to self-destruct at every turn. I fucked things up with Chelsea and the Crushers. I was given a second chance with the Legends and I’m close to losing that too. I had a chance at fatherhood but it was taken away from me in the cruelest of ways. I know I shouldn’t be kissing Wren, but she’s the first person to show me affection—real affection. She’s always on my team and the more I’m around her, the more comfortable I feel, and when I’m with her, the real me appears.
Melting into my embrace, she pulls me in closer, deepening our connection and kiss. Sliding my hands down her body, I cup her ass and squeeze. I can feel the heat of her pussy against my dick when she begins to circle her hips on my lap. She tugs my lower lip into her mouth, and I groan into the kiss.
Flipping her onto her back on the sofa, I cover her body with mine and continue to kiss her. My hands slide along her thighs and up under her dress. Cupping her pussy in my hand, I massage her slit through the soaked material of her panties. A guttural moan passes from her lips to mine. Slipping my finger under the edge of her panties, I’m about to slide in when she grips my hand, halting my movements. “Stefan,” she murmurs, and I can tell from the tone she wants me to stop. I’ve never forced a woman, and I’m not about to start now.
Lifting myself up, I stare down at her lying beneath me. Her cheeks are flushed. Her lips puffy and swollen from our kiss, but it’s her eyes that stump me. They’re filled with want and confusion. It’s the confusion that guts me.
“I’m so sorry, Wren,” I whisper. “So fucking sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says. “I … I kissed you back but, umm.” She shakes her head. “I … I can’t do this. I…”
One minute I’m hovering over her and she’s apologizing. The next, I’m on my ass next to the coffee table watching as she runs away from me. She takes the stairs two at a time, and then the sound of her bedroom door closing echoes around me.
What the fuck just happened?