Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“Not exactly. She contacted me a while back. I think it was right after she tried to get in touch with you and you rebuffed her.” Stef felt his face harden. He hadn’t rebuffed the woman. He hadn’t done anything at all. He’d simply not responded. He’d thought she’d taken the hint.

His father’s hand came out to pat his shoulder like he had when Stef had been a child. “You’re her only child, Stefan. She realized she wasn’t maternal, so she was careful. But as you get older, you feel the need to reach out, to make things right. She backed off because she didn’t want to hurt you more than she had. I had lunch with her, and we’ve become quite good friends. Stefan, I wish you would talk to her, but I understand it’s hard for you.” A nasty little suspicion seized Stef’s gut. “Did she know you were sick?”

His father’s face flushed. “Yes.”

“But you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” He shook his head. “I was afraid, Stefan. I was afraid it wouldn’t worry you at all. I was afraid it wouldn’t mean anything to you. It’s recently come to my attention that I’ve been a coward most of my life. I should have called you, but I didn’t. Getting on that plane was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, son.”

“Why?”

“Because I had to face the worst mistake I ever made.” Now Stef was the one flushing. Well, he’d always known that was true.

His father reached for him. “You’re not understanding me. It wasn’t a mistake to marry your mother or to have you. My mistake was in leaving you behind. Stefan, I should never have allowed us to be separated.”

“I didn’t want to leave. I needed this place. I was happy here, so you don’t have to feel guilty.” He couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like if he’d been forced to move to Dallas. He glanced at Nate, who was talking to his deputy, his eyes never straying far from the man in the cell. Nate had grown up in that world.

Nate had taken years to accept who he was. He’d tried to fit into society’s version of normal. He’d almost lost Callie in the process.

No, he wasn’t angry with his father for letting him stay in Bliss.

He was angry with his father because he hadn’t stayed with him.

The revelation hit him straight in the gut.

He was angry, brutally angry, with his father. All the years of telling himself that he’d built his own family and didn’t need anything from the man had been lies. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his pieced-together family. He did. But he’d needed his dad. He’d needed to know that someone with his blood wanted him for something besides convenient proof that he could procreate.

Stef looked down, and his hands were shaking.

“Son, I deserve everything you’re thinking right now, but I’m asking you to hear me out.”

Stef stood abruptly. The room seemed to be closing in on him. His father scrambled to get up as well, but Stef moved across the room from him. He couldn’t do this right now. He had too much going through his brain. Everything his father had said reinforced his belief that he was doing the right thing for Jennifer, but the fact that she would soon be gone made him sick. He hadn’t had enough time with her, and he couldn’t allow himself any more. If he did, he’d take over her life. He’d mold her into something she wasn’t.

“Stef?”

A soft hand on his arm brought him back to the real world.

Jennifer looked up at him, her eyes soft and filled with concern. When he focused on her, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him as though she could read his need to be close to her. Without hesitation, he took the comfort she offered, reveling in the way she felt in his arms.

“I’d like to go home, love.”

He felt her head nod as she squeezed him close.

“You keep an eye on her, Stef,” Nate said, standing up and walking across the room. His hand came out.

Stef adjusted Jennifer so she was firmly at his side as he shook Nate’s hand. “I will.”

He slid his hand into hers and led her out.

If he was going to lose her soon, he didn’t want to waste a moment on anything as insignificant as the man who had left him behind.

“Stefan.” His father’s voice called out.

Stef walked out the door.

Jen wasn’t sure what had happened with Stef and his dad, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was her job to calm him down. If she allowed him to, he would withdraw, pretending that there was absolutely nothing wrong. He would more than likely tell her that he wanted to work or some such nonsense and leave her alone for the rest of the evening.

That was not going to happen.

Stef pulled his Land Rover into the long drive that led to his house just as the sun was going down. He’d said very little since he’d asked Max to give his father a ride back when he was ready. Other than that, he’d concentrated on the road. His hands had been perfectly steady on the wheel, but she couldn’t forget the moment when she’d seen them shake. Stef out of control made her heart hurt. It was the one thing she knew he couldn’t handle.

She knew exactly how to give control back to him.

He put the SUV in park and shut off the engine. Jen got out before he could say a word. Though she was right in front of the door that led into the house, she walked around the vehicle. She wasn’t going into the house.

“Jennifer?”

She turned slightly and stared at the deliciously masculine sight he made. He was lit from behind by the setting sun. He looked every inch the rough-and-tumble cowboy in Levi’s, boots, and a somewhat-battered Stetson. He looked far from the immaculate man he often presented himself as. She realized looking at him, heart racing at how beautiful he was, that she loved all of Stef. She loved the wickedly decadent artist and the doggedly loyal small-town boy. She adored the perverted Dom. He was all of those things, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

“I love you, Stef.”

His boots suddenly became very intriguing, it seemed. He stared down at them for a moment.

Though her heart clenched at his silence, she realized something else. In the end, she couldn’t control whether or not he loved her. She couldn’t force him to see how good they could be together if he didn’t want to. She could bluster and batter him with attention-seeking behavior, but in the end, he would decide whether or not he was brave enough to take the chance. All she had control over was how much she loved him. It wasn’t such a selfish thing. Her love suddenly seemed vast and warm and giving.

“Don’t cry.”

She hadn’t been aware she was, but she felt it now. It wasn’t sad.

It was simply the acknowledgement of overwhelming emotion. She loved, and suddenly she was a better person for it. She was larger than she’d been just moments before.

“I love you.” There was no hesitation in the words. They were strong and proud. Her love was worth something. He might deny it, but she wouldn’t.

“I…that means a lot to me.” His words were oddly faltering, as though foreign to his tongue.

She wouldn’t push him, but she could help him. “Then come to the guesthouse with me. I want to play, Stef.” His eyes flared. “You want to play? Jennifer, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m not exactly calm and in control.”

“But you will be.” She turned and started to walk toward the guesthouse. This was how he could get his control back. This was the gift she could give him.

He caught up to her in an instant. “You’re topping from the bottom.”

The outrage in the accusation made her smile. “Isn’t that what every smart sub does?”

He frowned before a laugh huffed from his chest. “You’re going to kill me, Jennifer.”

He leaned over and gently pushed his shoulder into her midsection, picking her up in a fireman’s hold.

“Hey!” The world went topsy-turvy, and then she felt a sharp slap to her ass.

“Hush, sub. You want to play? I want to play, too. But we’re at least going to pretend I have some control. When we go into that guesthouse, you treat it like a dungeon. I’m the Master. You’re the pretty slave who’ll do anything to please me.” And that was different how? She didn’t argue with him, though.

She was already getting hot at the thought of playing with Master Stefan. “Yes, Stef.”

“What will please me, slave?”

She loved the way his voice went deep and rich, like dark chocolate. “My submission.”

“No clothes are allowed in my dungeon.” He set her on her feet and pulled out the key. He quickly opened the door and allowed her to enter. Jen felt her shoes sink into the thick carpet. The door closed behind her, and when she turned, Stef was staring at her, his face as hard as granite.

“I’m waiting, Jennifer.”

She certainly didn’t feel the cold now. She shrugged out of her coat and handed it to him to hang. With deliberate movements, she took off her clothes. Where the afternoon had been a flurry of passion, this was measured, and a level of anticipation permeated the room.

She felt almost drugged by it. She slid her hands under the waistband of her jeans and pushed them down her legs.

“Poor darling,” Stef said with silky sympathy. “You had to wear your plug all day. Is my slave’s ass sore?”

“I can handle it, Stefan.” She smiled at him in genuine pleasure.

There wasn’t a hint of his earlier worry and panic. He was utterly and completely focused on her now. He was in control.

“Turn around and lean over the couch. It’s time to take it out. I have more interesting things to shove up your ass than a piece of plastic.”