Hardcore Volume 3 by Staci Hart Page A

eyes dark. I kept talking.
    “I had to leave you because I couldn’t pretend. I couldn’t lie to you. I knew you weren’t going to let me go that easy, though, not as intense as we’d been. But I didn’t want to leave. I just didn’t know any other way to go about it.”
    “How bad did she hurt you?” His voice was low, nearly a growl.
    “I had a concussion, but I was okay otherwise.”  
    He didn’t look convinced.  
    “It’s not the worst fight we’d had.” I shook my head. “Jade said she’d kill Jill. There was no way out of the job. Morgan tried to push back, but when we found out that Jade was having Jill followed, that was it. We all backed off.”
    “What happened that night?”
    I took a heavy breath and met his eyes. “I watched Jade stand right there and take the Rothko off the wall, wishing I was dead. We made the drop, and the fences double-crossed us, gave us a fraction of the money they promised Jade and Jace. Jade had a gun to her head twice that night. Once from the fences. Once from me.”
    His eyes widened a hair.  
    “You can’t move life backward. You can’t undo what’s been done. Pulling the trigger wouldn’t have changed anything except me.” I took a drink to wash the ache in my chest away. It didn’t work. I set the glass down and spun it around. “The next day, the girls talked me into stealing the painting back. Bust the warehouse and the guys that fucked us over. But I didn’t care about them. I just wanted to tell you the truth. Return what I’d stolen. The property, at least. I didn’t ever believe what I’d done could be repaired, but I wanted you to know all the same.”
    “You knew what I would say, but you did what you thought was right anyway.”
    I nodded. “You told me once that you didn’t think it was hard to do the right thing.”
    Van’s eyes were dark. “I was wrong.”
    I looked down at my drink, shook my head. “Not wrong. It’s just more complicated than that.”
    He walked around the island and spun my chair so I faced him, dropped down to rest on the balls of his feet. His hands found the bend in my waist. “That’s what I’ve learned from all this, Cory. Sometimes there is no right or wrong. Sometimes it’s all wrong, and the best you can do is to decide just how bad it’s going to be. I can’t judge you for your choices because I can’t say I would have chosen differently if I were you.”
    I touched his cheek, looked into his pleading eyes. “Thank you for that, Van,” I whispered.
    He shook his head as he stood, moving between my legs. He cupped my face, tilted it up to his. “No more thanks, no more apologies. I just want to be with you. I just want to start over. Are you ready?”
    “I’m ready.”
    His thumb shifted against my cheek as he dropped his lips, locked them with mine, pressed his body against me. My shirt inched up my thighs until my bare ass was on the leather seat. The kiss deepened, our breath heaving until he slipped a hand around my back and guided my legs around his waist. He picked me up and set me on the granite countertop.  
    He pulled away, trailed his fingers down my jaw, down my neck, to the collar of my shirt, his eyes on his fingers as he slipped it off my shoulder. It fell down my arms, and I threaded them out, leaving the cotton hanging around my waist.
    Van looked down at me, holding my chin in his fingers. “No one’s going to hurt you again. No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t choose to do. Never.” He ran his fingertips down my breast, to my waist, his lips millimeters from mine. “Never,” he whispered. “You’re free.”
    His lips claimed mine with fire that ran through my body and between my legs, wound around his waist. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me to his cock, pressing against me through the fabric of his pants. He hung my ass just over the edge of the counter and buried his face in my neck as I wrapped my arms around his.
    “I want this, Van.” I