Second Rate Chances

by S. C. Stephens

  His fingers slid against her slick skin. Makayla…lost it.

  She cried out in multiple short bursts. Chance peeked up at her face. She was climaxing, at just his soft touch. It was glorious to watch. She was so neglected…

  He circled his fingers around her, encouraging the release. He pressed his own ache against her thigh, but knew now that tonight would not be for him. No, tonight was for her. She needed his attention. Maybe it wasn’t too soon for this after all.

  As her cries diminished, her body relaxed. Chance removed his fingers and fixed her clothes. Feeling in control again, he let this be the end of their connection. She would regret going any further, and Chance didn’t want her to regret anything with him…not yet, anyway. As she closed her eyes and worked on stabilizing her breath, Chance sealed her shirt shut. He sighed as her beautiful body was hidden from him again. But…he could wait. Chance was good at waiting. He had to be.

  When he finished, he cuddled into her side. Breathing lightly in her ear, he worked on taming the fire in his body. It would take a while, he was sure, but he could do it…as long as she didn’t touch him for a few moments. And she didn’t seem capable of it. Eyes closed, she seemed completely at peace. Then, her lip started to tremble.

  Frowning, Chance lifted his head. “Makayla?”

  She shook her head, but Chance saw the tears in the corner of her eyes. Crap. Did he misjudge what she’d regret? If he’d gone too far…it might ruin everything. He brushed away a tear that had escaped. “Makayla…what is it? Did I…go too far?”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him a moment. Swallowing, she finally cringed. “No…I’m sorry. I’m just a little…overwhelmed. It’s been so long since anyone…”

  Her voice choked up and she closed her eyes again. A tear leaked out and Chance kissed it away. God, she was more neglected than he’d first believed. It swelled his heart and he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay, Makayla… it’s okay.” Chance closed his eyes and kissed her head. He’d never wanted to protect someone so much in his entire life. And being who he was…that made things incredibly complicated.

  For once not knowing what to do for her, Chance merely held her in his arms, occasionally kissing her head. He felt himself starting to choke up at her reaction. He’d never had someone get…emotional…just by being with him. It opened something in him, something he tried very hard to always keep closed. Never fall for the mark…

  Chance swallowed. Makayla…I’m using you…but don’t think that I don’t care, because I do. I care a lot…

  Not able to say anything he really wanted to, Chance ended up whispering, “I’m starting to have feelings for you, too, Makayla…and I don’t ever want to hurt you. I won’t…ever hurt you.”

  Chance felt his eyes sting. He was lying. He would hurt her. What they were going to do, what he had to convince her to take part in…was going to hurt her. Then, after the job was done, Chance would disappear, like he always did. That would most definitely hurt her. Him too. Clenching her tight, Chance forced the painful separation from his mind. It wasn’t here yet. He still had her today, and living the life he did, today was all Chance ever got.

  Makayla squeezed him back just as hard. After a while, she murmured, “Tell me something, Chance…”

  Chance tensed, wondering what she’d want to know, wondering which lie he’d have to spill. It was a dangerous time for her to ask; so much emotion was flying through his body right now, Chance wasn’t even sure if he could lie to her right now. Don’t fall for the mark…

  She pulled back to look at him; her face was more composed. Chance felt like his was all over the place. Schooling his features, he gave her a warm, confident smile. Don’t ask me anything hard right now, Makayla. Don’t push me…I might fall.

  She smiled at his face, her thumb coming up to rub his cheek. She didn’t look embarrassed by her earlier tears. No, she looked…in love…as she gazed at him. He swallowed again. “When I asked you about your family before…you shut down. Why?”

  Chance looked away. God, he could not give her this lie right now…he just couldn’t.

  Her fingers brought his gaze back to hers. “Hey, I’m not asking for the story, I’m just asking for the why. Why does the mention of family…hurt you?”

  Chance sighed. Because my father was a cold, manipulating bastard who used me as a pawn since the very day of my birth. Because…I was the mark…and I never realized it, until it was too late. Because he used me, and it hurt so bad I immediately set him up…put him jail…and I never got any answers out of him. Because…I have no family…

  Swallowing back his inner thoughts, Chance gave her a sad smile; he didn’t even have to fake it. “My story isn’t a nice one…you don’t want to hear it, Makayla.”

  She shook her head, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Yes, I do. I want to know everything about you…the good…and the bad.”

  Chance looked down. No, no you don’t, Makayla, not really. Everyone always says that, says they want to know everything…have all the facts. Then the truth comes out. And then everyone always says they’d rather go back to when they didn’t know. Always. Chance knew he did.

  Shifting her position to cuddle into his body, Makayla lifted his chin. She stroked his face and gazed at him with open adoration. Chance wondered if she knew how clear her emotions were. She may have been guarded before…but she wasn’t now. That scared him some. Especially since he still wanted to tell her the truth.

  “I do want to hear it…if you trust me to listen.”

  Chance closed his eyes. God, she was using his trust mantra against him. She was better than he thought. As Chance shifted through the various back stories he’d memorized for the various people he pretended to be, Makayla added, “Besides, you promised me an inside peek into the mind of a criminal…and so far, you’ve been pretty closed off. You won’t even tell me how you got your nickname.”

  Feeling the humor in her words brightened Chance’s spirit. He cracked an eye. Grinning at her, he shook his head. “I’m not a criminal…but you’re right, I did say I’d let you see how I ticked.” Or rather, how Colton ticked. She’d never get to see how Chance really ticked.

  Shaking that thought out of his head, Chance sat up on an elbow and smiled down at her. “Well, the nickname is pretty simple…it’s just boring.” Sitting up, Chance prepared himself to start the lie machine. And once he went down this path…he wouldn’t be able to stop it. But really, what choice did he have?

  Shifting himself so Makayla’s thighs were over his lap, Chance let himself stare blankly at the floor. He saw Makayla frown out of the corner of his eye. He knew his words didn’t match his reaction. That was intentional. Makayla’s curiosity was spiked now, and once he told her the simple story of how he’d gotten his name…she’d be his, if she wasn’t already.

  Closing his eyes, Chance fought back the self-hatred he felt growing in his stomach. God, he was such a bastard for this, but he had to tell her something. Besides, this would answer her question about his family anyway. Well, Colton’s family. Leaving his eyes closed, since the pain on his face matched his story, he whispered, “When I was young, I used to break into abandoned warehouses. Then I started sneaking into office buildings, just to see if I could. I’d steal stupid stuff…staplers, white boards…a rolling chair, once.”

  Chance opened his eyes when he felt Makayla sit up. Scooting back, she wrapped her arms around her knees. Chance glanced over at her and cringed. “The rush…it was all I cared about.” He swallowed and dropped his eyes. “My parents didn’t know what to do with me. They tried counseling, grounding, church…but nothing seemed to work.” Chance sighed, looking up at her again. “I think they finally just…gave up.”

  Makayla put a hand on his shoulder and Chance had to look away. She was feeling exactly what he wanted her to feel—I won’t give up on you. He hated himself a little more. Running a hand back through his hair, Chance sniffed and got to the meaty part of his story…his l
ie. “I was breaking into a building close to the federal building on the day it was bombed…I still remember the sound of the explosion…”

  Makayla inhaled, just like Chance wanted her to. “I remember that… You’re from Oklahoma…you grew up in Oklahoma City?”

  Chance nodded as he gazed at her. No, not really. He was from Texas, or so his father had told him. Makayla had been right on when she’d first guessed about his accent, an accent that Chance did nothing to mask, since it evoked a feeling of trust in the people who heard it. But Chance would never let Makayla know that she was right about his heritage; it went against his emotionally gripping back story. And he couldn’t tell her his real story. Being raised by a man who’d taught him to steal before he could walk wasn’t entirely sympathetic.

  His voice quiet, slightly breaking with emotion, Chance told her the bits and pieces that a real witness would have remembered from that horrible day. “I remember it like it happened yesterday. I was sixteen…looking for a high…going into empty offices, stealing anything of value, wallets, purses, jewelry…anything. When the bomb went off, I felt it…I felt it shake the building I was in. I remember screams and people running…”

  Makayla’s eyes were wide when he looked back at her. Chance allowed his eyes to fill with tears; he needed them for his story. A knot of disgust filling his stomach, he whispered, “I was supposed to be watching my little brother, but I bailed…” He swallowed; a tear rolled down his cheek, practically on cue. God, he was good at this. “My mom had to take him to work with her…there was a daycare center in the building…”

  Another tear fell from his eye and Chance swallowed again. He let his voice trail off intentionally. It was better if Makayla came to the conclusion herself. It made him seem more…damaged…if he couldn’t say it.

  As he knew she would, Makayla quickly filled in the blanks. “Your mom worked at the federal building? Oh…oh, Chance…your brother…” Her hands flew to her mouth as her eyes watered. For a split-second, Chance wanted to tell her that he was lying, that he didn’t have a dead brother, and for all he knew, his mother was alive and well. But…Chance had a job to do.

  Chance nodded, looking away from her. “The bomb went off near the daycare. My mom was only on that side of the building because of me, because I bailed on her. My little brother shouldn’t have been there at all… It was my fault…it was all my fault…”

  Makayla’s arms wrapped around him and Chance felt himself start to break down. He was such a dick for doing this to her. It had to be done though. He knew that he had to proceed with the con, regardless of his mixed feelings. Garrett couldn’t be allowed near Makayla. Saddened by the situation he found himself in, and now fully realizing that it had been too early for his scarred soul to take this job, Chance allowed his tears to fall freely; it fit perfectly with his story anyway.

  Kissing his cheek, kissing his tears away, Makayla murmured, “No, no it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that that would happen. It was just…”

  He looked over at her, his expression blank. “Chance,” he whispered. “It was just…chance.”

  Makayla’s face dropped in sympathy. Her mouth parted, tears rolling down her cheeks, Chance thought she was the most perfect vision of empathy that he’d ever seen. He wished his sad story was true. He wished he really was Colton Burke, the troubled thief with a heart of gold, the man with a history so full of pain and trauma that any woman would love him, understand him, and forgive him of any crime. His real story was not so forgivable.

  Brushing aside his tears, Makayla whispered, “I’m so sorry, Colton.”

  Chance nodded, swallowing back his grief. He had to do this and he hated himself for it.

  Makayla placed a soft kiss upon his lips, then buried her head in his neck. Exhaling, Chance held her tight, savoring her comfort. He’d never get this for his real story—he’d probably get assaulted and arrested—so he had to take whatever acceptance and forgiveness that he could…even if it was a reaction that he’d carefully manufactured. Fake compassion was better than none at all.

  Chapter 9

  Safe With Me

  Holding Chance tight on that couch, Makayla wanted to sob for him. She’d imagined a troubled childhood, what with his reaction to the mere mention of family, but she’d never imagined anything like that. She couldn’t picture the guilt, the pain, the constant…agony…he must feel. Her heart swelled for him.

  Touched beyond belief that he’d opened up to her so much, when they really hadn’t known each other long, Makayla vowed to not ask him anymore personal questions tonight. Pulling back to gaze at him, she clearly saw the confliction in his face. He hadn’t meant to tell her that much. Maybe he was worried that he’d said too much, that she’d turn away from someone that flawed. Squeezing him tight, she gave him another soft kiss. She’d never turn away from someone just because their past was a little dark. And flawed as he might be, Makayla saw a person striving to be better when she looked at him. And isn’t that what he’d promised her? That he’d change, that he’d stop…for her. She believed that he would.

  After a few moments of gentle kissing, Makayla pulled away to simply stare at him. He’d given her such a gift, when she’d lost control and let their heated moment become a little too heated. He’d stopped himself from taking advantage of her wanton desire. Makayla knew that, she’d felt his restraint. She respected him for his control. But, she wanted to give him a gift. Surprisingly, even though she’d said she’d wanted to go slow and casual, Makayla wanted him to take her. She almost needed him too.

  It had been an eternity since Makayla had felt the warmth that she felt from him. It had been so long since she’d shared any sort of intimacy. She wanted to show him how much she appreciated his opening up to her. Maybe sex was a step too far, but Makayla just felt…connected with him, and wanted to further that feeling.

  Standing up, she extended a hand to him. He took it, his brows furrowed in confusion. He wouldn’t be confused much longer. Once he was standing beside her, his body lightly pressing into hers, she huskily told him, “Will you take me upstairs with you, Chance?”

  He swallowed, his eyes flicking down her body. His mouth opening, he nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, his eyes lazily making their way back up to hers.

  Makayla smiled and rested her head against his. She placed her lips against his; the anticipation of the moment had her heart racing, her stomach tightening. It felt too soon to her, but his story, his pain…the intense moment they’d already shared…she was ready for him. Right or wrong, she was ready. Besides, she’d come here to throw him off guard, catch him in a lie…but all she’d found was that he was exactly who he claimed to be.

  The only strange thing of the evening had been the man who’d surprised her. But that memory was phasing into the background. Chance hadn’t seemed too worried about it, so maybe it was nothing. And Makayla couldn’t remember much about it anyway. Her unladylike fall had knocked a cloud of confusion into her, revolving around that moment. A part of her wanted to ask Chance about someone named Garrett and something about a courtyard tomorrow at noon. But Makayla really had no idea why those things were stuck in her head, or what any of it meant, if it meant anything. And right now…she didn’t care. Right now, she wanted to wrap her arms around Chance and make him feel…as wonderful and safe as he made her feel.

  She started pulling him towards the hallway he’d come down earlier. He followed, a myriad of emotions passing through his eyes. He seemed really conflicted about this. That kind of surprised Makayla. He’d seemed gung ho about it up until this point. Maybe he was having performance anxiety?

  At the top of the stairs, Makayla looked around for guidance. The hallway was a long one, with three or four doors along it, all of them closed. Chance pointed to the end of the hall when she looked back at him. His brow was still bunched, like he was still really unsure. Makayla leaned in, giving him a long, loving kiss. She could relax him once they were in his room.


  Walking backwards, keeping their lips together, she finally felt her back press against his door and reached down to twist the knob. Opening the door, Makayla backed into his room and bit her lip. This was forward, even for her, but she felt such openness and honesty between them, and what could be more open and honest, than sharing their bodies.

  Chance closed the door behind himself, his gorgeous boy-next-door face torn. “Makayla, I didn’t tell you to… You don’t have to…” He stumbled for words, and Makayla smiled.

  Placing her finger on his lips, she sighed. “That’s not why I want to do this, Chance.” Grabbing both of his hands, she stared deep into his eyes. “I like you, I really, really like you…and I feel so close to you right now. I feel like I finally understand you some. You’ve shared so much with me tonight…” she started unbuttoning her blouse, her lacy bra showing itself, “I want to share something with you.”