Page 70 of Saving Stella

Chapter 12

“USA Airways Flight four-oh-five to JFK is now boarding.”

Cliff glanced up at the departures board from across the airport bar where he sat as the status on his flight changed from “gate open” to “boarding.” He knocked back the last inch of his overpriced beer before he stood up and began the trudge toward the gate.

His inner wolf snapped at him, clawing at him from the inside. Cliff had done his best to ignore his inner animal, but now he was just too tired.

Go ahead. Do your worst.

Because it couldn’t possibly compare to the stabbing, aching pain buried in his chest right now. It was like a hot poker that continued to bury itself deeper with each breath.

Idiot. Coward. Asshole.

Oh yeah, he was all those things and more. He deserved every insult from the dictionary for what he did to Stella.

She knew what would happen.

But that did nothing to comfort him, nor help him forget the sweetness that was Stella. Her body, her mouth, her soft skin … her sexy moans and sighs as he?—

Fuck.

Jacob arriving that morning had been a blessing—at least that’s what he told himself. He and Stella could have a clean break, and there wouldn’t be any drama. They could part with all the good memories of that one night between them.

If Jacob had been surprised that Cliff asked him to come to the hotel instead of her home, he didn’t show it. He was, however, taken aback that Cliff was leaving at that very moment.

“Dude, really? You’re not even going to say goodbye?” Jacob had admonished.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Oh yeah? Then why can I smell her on you?”

That had shut him up.

“Is it serious?”

“Nah.” He had waved a hand at him casually. “Just a bit of fun.” It wasn’t like Jacob was a prude or an innocent himself.

“Is that what you’re going to tell Charley? Or Devon?”

“I’ll deal with them, okay? Now, you got everything? I have a flight to catch.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Forrest, welcome on board.”

The stewardess’s cheerful voice broke into his thoughts. “Thanks,” he muttered as he settled into his seat.

“Can I get you a drink? Water? Beer? Champagne?”

“No thanks.”

He looked out the window into the runway, where the gleaming black pyramid of the Luxor Casino towered over the desert. Seeing The Strip, he expected the memories of that last fight six years ago to flood his brain, to remind him of his failures and his bad decisions. That he had everything he wanted in life, everything he had dreamed and worked for, but one stupid mistake had cost it all.

But that wasn’t what came to mind.

Bitter and cold despair replaced the hot, burning pain in his chest as he recalled the softness of Stella’s body against his. How her sweet, desperate cries filled his ears as he made love to her gently and fiercely that last time this morning. Stella had already fulfilled his darkest needs the night before, but he couldn’t get the satisfaction he usually did from his frenzied encounters.

No, it was only when he took her tenderly and softly that he finally felt at peace. But it also scared the hell out of him, which was probably why he ran away with his tail between his legs.

He really was a coward. He ran away from Stella because he panicked. He had never felt this way before, never felt so vulnerable and open. The last time he’d been that close to feeling that way was with Madelyn.

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