I’m a very forgiving person, sometimes to a fault. I had to be, growing up the way I did, otherwise I’d be like Van. I’d be angry and bitter with the hand life dealt me. If Van asked for forgiveness, then I should give it to him. I love him regardless, and that’s something I’ve come to accept over the past month. And if I’m willing to love him, then I need to forgive him, or we can’t move on.
“Where should we go?” he asks and snaps me out of my thoughts. The biggest, most perfect smile stretches across his face as he tosses my new surfboard into the trunk of his rented Jeep. The crazy guy took the top off in December during a rainstorm. He really does have ice in his veins.
He slides into the driver’s seat and grins at me as he starts the car. “You hungry? Dinner on me. Your choice.”
“Shit! Dinner. I was supposed to go to dinner with Bates. I need to cancel,” I say as I grab my phone to text Bates my change of plans. I completely forgot all about Bates after Van showed up.
“Bates,” he growls. “That kid’s last breath will be soon.”
“No, it won’t.” I reach over and put my hand on his thigh. “He’s a friend. A very confused friend. Things are going to be different, right? No more fighting. Just me and you against the world.” His scowl fades as he grabs my hand and interlocks our fingers.
I text Bates. It’s almost 7:30 p.m. He’s probably on his way to Mabel’s already.
“Hey, something came up. I can’t make it. So sorry.”
I also text Millie since she clearly knew what was happening.
“You’re such a bad friend for not telling me, but I love you. I will call you tomorrow with the deets. All is well. Happy New Year!”
Then I fire off one to Kali because I don’t know if I should bring Van to Pete’s.
“Donovan showed up at the beach. Long story. Should I bring him to Pete’s?”
“Done? I’ll ask again, where are we going?” Van asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice.
“Yes,” I smirk, “and dinner sounds good. I’m starving. I need to change first though. All of my stuff is at Mabel’s. Plus, it’s New Year’s Eve. Not sure where we’ll find somewhere with an open table.” I pause as my phone dings with a text from Kali.
“Fuck yes bring him to Pete’s!!!! I want to meet this hot piece of ass. I hope this means you worked through some shit. I will always be #teammaisy, but I’m all in on #teamvansy.”
I fire a quick one back. “Team Vansy?”
“There’s only one team now – Team Vansy. See you at Pete’s.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Address?” he asks and pulls up his GPS. I give him Mabel’s address and we’re off. The feeling of sitting next to Van, driving to Mabel’s, is very surreal, but I’m oddly comfortable. It’s like after his apology, a weight was lifted and life resumed. It feels right.
*Ding*
“Maze, come on. Don’t do this. Let me take you out.”
“Bates, something came up. I can’t. I’ll see you at Pete’s.”
“Breaking my heart…”
I can’t answer that right now. One fire at a time.
*Ding*
“Holy shit. I knew it. I’m a bridesmaid.”
“Pump the brakes, Millie. But of course you would be.”
“Happy New Year! Call me tomorrow ASAP!”
We arrive at Mabel’s and Van doesn’t move. He’s staring at the small house with bars on the windows. I bet this is a far cry from the penthouses in Manhattan.
“Too scared to come in? The trick is to time it right between the gunshots,” I joke.
“Nothing scares me, Maisy. Nothing could be worse than losing you,” he replies as we hop out of the Jeep. Over dinner we’re going to need to discuss more of what this new relationship is going to look like. He can’t live life scared to lose me every second. After the things we’ve been through, what could be worse?
He grabs my new surfboard and walks into Mabel’s house, the screen door encased in iron creaking loudly. The smell of smoke hits us like a ton of bricks when we enter.
“Well it’s about fucking time,” Mabel croaks from her chair in the living room. My beautiful “bed” is made up nicely next to her TV tray. Just then, Mabel looks up and sees Van standing next to me. “Who the fuck is this tall drink of water?” she asks with a smoke-induced cough. Her voice is so hoarse from years of smoking, she sounds like a gargling frog.
“Mabel, this is Donovan. He is a friend of mine from school,” I offer. Van shoots me a glare. He’s a friend until we talk this all out.
“Friend,” she snorts. “Even with his fucked-up face, if I had friends like that…” She trails off with a whistle between her teeth.
“Mabel!” I scold as Van chuckles behind me.
“No fucking on my furniture.” She shoves her pointer finger at me with a deep cough.
“No funny business, I swear.” I cross my heart with my finger.
“You need some ‘funny business’ Maze. You’re way too fucking uptight.” Mabel turns her attention back to the TV. Van is cupping his mouth, trying to hold in his laugh.
I leave Van with Mabel so I can change out of my wetsuit and swim gear to shower. Since I’m no longer going to Terza, I opt for something comfy, yoga pants and a cropped sweatshirt that hangs off one of my shoulders. It’s oversized and warm, perfect for a beach party in December. I brush my wet hair and braid it to the side. My whole vibe is laid back. I want Van to feel my California tonight.
“Ready?” I ask as I walk back into the living room from the bathroom to the sounds of Mabel’s raspy laugh filling the room between coughing bouts. What could they possibly be talking about? Van can charm the pants off anyone. Even my crabby great aunt Mabel.
“Yeah, whenever you are, Owl.” He smiles at Mabel and she flashes him her crooked yellow grin. She never smiles. The last time I saw her teeth…well, I can’t even think of one time.
“Come on back any time, Donovan. Fuck wherever you want!” She laughs again.
“What did you do to Mabel?” I ask as we walk out to the Jeep. The rain has subsided. It was a quick winter rain shower.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He smiles and my heart flutters in my chest. I have missed this man so very much. When he’s the real Van, he is incredibly charismatic, lovable and entertaining. That is the side he’s too afraid to let people see for fear of being weak.
“My great aunt Mabel hasn’t smiled since the Great Depression, and even then it was only because everyone was as poor as she was. She’s actually told me that story. You’re with her twenty minutes and she’s smiling like a schoolgirl in a new pair of Mary Janes.”
“A schoolgirl in Mary Janes? What era do you live in?” He laughs at me. “Where should we go?”
“Crabby Curt’s,” I offer without another thought. “It’s a right on Ocean Boulevard. You get to hammer the heck out of your crabs and it, well, it’s delicious.”
“You don’t have to sell me, Owl, I’m all in. Forever,” he replies and pops Crabby Curt’s into the GPS. He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. He doesn’t let go until we’re pulling into the parking lot.
While we’re hammering our crabs, we talk about the last month while we were apart.
“So, you got into a few fights?”
“What makes you say that?” he laughs as smacks his crab with a mallet.
“Well, your face is usually so much prettier,” I deadpan.
“Ha, ha, ha, you’re hilarious.”
“But seriously, why would you do that? You could have missed your bowl game.”
Van tells me all about the fights and the big goon who broke his nose, who ended up being the grandson of a major donor and an All-American collegiate wrestler.
“I was in a dark place, Owl. Fighting has always allowed me to feel something – even if it was negative emotions, it was at least something. Plus, if I got suspended, I was going to come out here sooner. I think part of me wanted to be suspended until Rhodes finally
verbally bitch-slapped me back into reality.”
“It has to stop, right? No more?”
“No more, I promise. My face and my liver thank you for accepting my apology.”
“Okay.” I accept him at his word. “So, what do you think of your first Crabby Curt’s experience?” I ask to lighten the mood.
“You were right, Owl, this is delicious,” he says as he sucks in a piece of crab meat off his knife. I reach across the table and wipe a drip of butter from his chin. As I pull my hand away, he grabs my wrist. There’s a carnal glimmer in his eyes that I haven’t seen since we were at Cambria and my thighs were clamped around his head. That looks speaks directly to my groin, and I feel my panties dampen on contact. He takes my thumb with the butter on it and sucks it into his mouth. Fuck me. Fuck me right now. He swirls his tongue around the tip of my thumb and sucks on it longer than necessary to clean the butter off. I have fireworks shooting up and down my spine and my hunger for him has not subsided in the least.
“Van.” I pause and he releases my thumb from his soft, wet mouth.
“Yes?” He smirks at me. He knows what he did to my body just then.
“Why do you call me Owl?”
He freezes and glances away quickly before bringing his eyes back to mine. He has been so honest, but all of a sudden this feels extra personal.
“I called you Owl by mistake at first. It just slipped out, but as things between us grew more complicated, I knew you were my owl.” He shrugs as if that answered my question.
“Am I supposed to understand that?” I ask with a chuckle. “You said you’d answer any question, remember?” I grin at him.
“I did. You’re right,” he sighs. “I’ve told you about my Grammy Charlotte. She was my favorite person in the world. Well, my Pop Pop, George Sr., used to call my Grammy his owl. Grammy Charlotte wasn’t just my favorite person, she was Pop Pop’s too. They’d be in the dining room at dinner and he would call to her, ‘Owl, can you bring me my’ whatever he needed at the time. He called her Owl all the time. I never understood why so one day I finally asked when we were at their summer house. I think I was like five or six maybe.” He trails off. I know he misses his Grammy. Other than me and Mia, she’s the only person Van truly loved.
“While Pop Pop was a hardass most of the time, he was soft when it came to Grammy,” he continues. “He said he called her Owl because owls are one of the only animals that truly mate for life. Grammy was his owl because they were life mates. They would never be apart for too long. He was right too. After Pop Pop died, Grammy died a few months later. Death couldn’t even keep them apart. They were life mates, soulmates – they were owls. It was almost prophetic that name slipped out when we first met. Growing up I wanted what my Pop Pop and Grammy had one day. They were so in love. When you became Owl to me you were, well, fulfilling a dream I always had.”
Tears are streaming down my face, again. I didn’t expect that nickname to hold such weight in Van’s life.
“Are those happy tears? I suck at reading emotions, Owl,” he says as he eyes me nervously.
“Yes, happy tears. If my hands weren’t covered in crab juice, I’d grab your face and kiss you,” I reply. Without thought Van leans over the table and grabs my face. I can feel the crab and butter on my cheeks and I don’t even care.
“Fuck the crab juice.” He crashes his lips into mine and his tongue sneaks inside. “I’ve fucking missed you so much,” he breathes in between kisses. Our dancing tongues ignite the fire inside of me I was missing since I left Van. There is no other person in this world who can do to me what he does. Physically, mentally, spiritually. He is all I need. “Let’s get out of here. I need to taste you again. I want to make you come so hard you forget your own name.” He smirks at me and a tingling sensation of nervousness and excitement rushes through my body. Damn, I’ve missed his dirty mouth.
When we arrive at the JW Marriott on Vista del Cielo Beach, we basically sprint from his Jeep to his suite on the twentieth floor. The room is bigger than Mabel’s house, and I’m sure it has a killer view of the ocean, but I will admire the view later – right now all I can focus on is getting Van out of his clothes.
He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. His concrete chest is heaving with deep breaths as he continues to assault my tongue with his, harder and more passionate with each passing second. I can feel his arousal pressing against the thin fabric of my yoga pants. I want this man so badly that every atom in my body is on fire.
“Maisy,” he whispers breathlessly into my hair, “I want all of you.”
“Then take it,” I reply and press my mouth to his again.
He sets me down on the edge of the bed and kneels before me. He grabs my hips and presses his forehead to my chest. “I’m really sorry. You know that.” He looks at me with pleading emerald eyes, still searching for validation and forgiveness. He’s in the same position as he was in the alley when I left him at Holy Sip!, but this time it’s different. He needs forgiveness, redemption. He’s going to need me to forgive him over and over again, and each time he asks, I will. We will save each other from our pasts, and we will prosper together. Even though we were raised in dramatically different circumstances, we aren’t that much different. Now we’re here, and we’re never looking back.
“I know, Van,” I affirm. “I forgive you.” I want this man to take me too. All of me. Every inch. Claim what has been his since we met. “Let’s move forward. Me and you. Take what has always been yours. New year. New us.”
With that, Van strips me of my clothes so fast I don’t think I even moved. As I sit in front of him in my white cotton bra and panties, he drops to his knees and admires my body. I’m ready for what is next, my abs clenched and my thighs quivering as the anticipation builds. Van pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his impeccably sculpted pecs and abs. His creamy torso is bruised from either fighting or football or both, but it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
He reaches behind me and removes my bra, tossing it to the floor. He presses a large palm to my chest so I lay my back on the mattress, then hooks his thumbs in my panties and slides them to the floor.
With one swift movement, his fingers enter me and my back arches in agreement with the pressure. His thumb circles my clit as his fingers continue their penetration, in and out, over and over. Teasing, pleasing. His long fingers work my g-spot from the inside while his thumb torments my clit. I’m on the cusp quickly, and I feel my insides clench around his fingers. He can feel it too.
“Come on, Maisy. Let go.” Being vulnerable like this requires trust. I’m putting my trust back into us.
I come hard around his fingers, with an arched back, an audible moan and electricity shooting from my core. Van removes his fingers and I look down at him. He is wasting no time. He licks my wetness from his fingers and runs his tongue the length of my slit. The feeling causes my body to clench again and a moan to escape my lips. It has been so long since this man has touched me, and I have ached for it.
Van beams at my reaction. “Missed me?” he asks as his tongue flutters over my clit quickly a few times.
“Yes, oh my God, yes,” I say. “Don’t stop.”
Van’s head lowers and his tongue enters me. I slip my hands into his hair and grip for dear life. As he is fucking me with his tongue, his hands slide up my body and grasp my breasts. He rolls my nipples between his fingers while his tongue assaults my sex. A warming sensation floods my body from my core.
After a few minutes I feel the tension building again, he removes his tongue and inserts two fingers while he lays his tongue thick over my clit and applies pressure while the other hand is still busy tormenting my nipple. My core clenches tighter and tighter as his tongue starts swirling over my clit again and again while his fingers hook inside and hit the spot the makes my legs quiver. A few more licks and I clamp my thighs around his gorgeous face as I come so hard I scream his name to the high heavens.
“Two fo
r two.” He smiles as he rises from his knees.
He pulls off his jeans and his boxers to reveal his enormous cock, which is rock hard and pulsating with need. He wants this. He wants me, and I plan to give it to him. I stare at his mouth, which is glistening with my pussy’s approval. He devilishly licks his lips and climbs on top of me, holding his body over mine he lowers his head and presses his lips to mine without so much as a word. I taste myself on his lips as I feel his hand slide up to my breast.
He begins massaging my breast, but eventually takes my erect bud between his fingers again and slowly rolls it over and over. The sensation is excruciatingly pleasurable. I can feel his erection pressing into my swollen mound as he skillfully slides himself over my clit without entering me. I now understand why he never had sex with me at Cambria. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. This very personal moment would have tainted forever, and he wanted better for me, for us.
“Maisy, I want to be inside of you,” he whispers into my mouth while his hand keeps exploring my breasts.
“I’m all yours, Van,” I say breathlessly.
With that Van reaches between my legs and strokes his shaft a few times. The corner of his mouth turns up in the most adorable way. Like a kid on Christmas.
“I have waited for this. Wanting this and never knowing if I was going to get the chance. I swear I’m clean. I’ve never had unprotected sex. Can I feel you? All of you?” He inhales deeply and I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance.
“I want to feel you inside me, Van. I want us to be one,” I reply.
With one thrust he enters me and fills me completely. His size is daunting and I’m seeing stars as he bottoms out inside of me, but I greedily accept all of him. Van moans loud as he eases back out of me – I think he may come right then.
Redemption (Cambria University #2) Page 24