He didn't meet my eyes anymore. Instead, he walked away, leaving me alone in the dark with only my panties and camisole on. I pulled my pants back on and then rested sideways on the sofa, tears running over the bridge of my nose.
I'd always dreamed of kissing him, making out with him, but never in a million years did I think something like this would actually happen. Maybe not all dreams were meant to come true. That was the ultimate dream, but by the end of it, it felt like a nightmare.
I almost regretted it because I knew it would change everything between us, and I wasn’t prepared for it at all.
11
CANE
I had to get as far away from Kandy as possible. The only place safe and distant enough was my bedroom.
I don't know what came over me.
Kandy was...she was so fucking young. She was Derek's daughter, and he would have murdered my ass if he’d known what I'd just done to his little girl. His life was on the line, for fuck's sake, yet there I was, wondering what it would be like to give that girl what she was really wanting.
I paced my bedroom, my dick hard as hell, jaw flexed as I shoved inked fingers through my hair.
"Fuck," I cursed beneath my breath. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I couldn't manage to get soft, even when I knew I shouldn't have been hard in the first place. I kept thinking about her. How vulnerable and excited she was. How eager she was, and how she fucked and clenched my fingers like she couldn't survive without them inside her.
I kept wondering what it would have been like to replace my fingers with my cock. Would I be too big for her? Would she whimper? Get teary-eyed as I stretched her? I knew she was a virgin. By how tight she was, there was no way in hell she'd been broken in yet, and that thought alone pleased me much more than it should have.
When did she become so goddamn sexy? She was eighteen years old and I knew she was too damn young for me, but I kissed her, touched her, and fingered her tight, slick, virgin pussy anyway. She was so damn wet, and her touch alone set my blood on fire. She'd hardly touched me when it all started, and I was already rock solid.
I couldn't lie and say I didn't find her attractive. She was a beautiful girl, and she was developing in plentiful ways. I noticed so much more after touching her. How her hips had filled out and how perky her tits were. She was gorgeous and any guy her age would have killed to have her.
I knew she had a crush on me. I could always tell. Her teasing, the jokes, and the way she tried to get a reaction out of me by doing and saying any little thing to annoy me, was proof of it. And the way she'd look at me with those big, maple-brown eyes, like the only man she wanted was me—fuck. I knew she wanted me. I knew it, but never thought too much of it. I ignored it because, before tonight, it was irrelevant.
I'd given her what she wanted, but at what cost? This was going to change everything between us. She wasn't going to be a kid to me anymore. She was going to be Kandy Jennings, the virgin who craved my cock.
I had to pull my shit together. I couldn't keep thinking about Derek's daughter like this. I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in the shower. After washing clean (as if getting clean would rid me of the wicked, dirty shit I'd just done to Kandy), I put on a pair of boxers and tried to get some work done at the desk in the corner of my bedroom.
It was damn near impossible.
I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened.
About her.
She was downstairs, most likely thinking about it, too. Knowing she was so close—that I could easily just go down there and bury my head between her legs, just to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled—left me hard all over again.
I couldn't sit around being this hard, knowing the only result would be a sad case of blue balls. I needed to fuck something...so I went with the only option I had.
My fist.
I picked up the lotion on my dresser and sat in the chair again, rolling my briefs down and then squirting some of it in my hand. Wrapping my lubed palm around my cock, I blew out a hard sigh, tossing my head back and squeezing my eyes shut.
My muscles flexed as I pumped, slowly at first, breathing deep as I remembered her soft moans, the silkiness of her pussy around my fingers. How she told me she wanted me.
Her sweet, warm, wet pussy.
Her slender body bucking, going wild with just my fingers inside it. The way tendrils of hair fell over her face, and her mouth gaped with each gradual thrust I provided.
I couldn't stop staring at her.
Watching her come undone.
Watching her come for me. I bet it was her first orgasm. Powerful. Delicious.
My body didn't give me much of a warning. My cock had a mind of its own that night. I pumped faster, feeding the hunger, grunting when I realized how close I was—how fucking hard I was.
"Oh, shit," I grunted, using my other hand to massage my balls. They were tight, my dick so thick and swollen in my hand, ready for release. With only three more smooth, quick pumps, I came.
Most of my muscles locked and before I knew it, my whole hand was soaked with white ropes of cum. I slowly rolled my thumb over the tip and then down to my shaft, relieved...for now.
I opened my eyes and looked down at the mess I'd created. Pearly streaks were all over my lap, a few droplets in the patch of dark hair surrounding my pelvis.
There was so much cum—too much cum—and all of it was meant for her. All for little Kandy Jennings.
12
KANDY
I woke up before Cane did the next morning...at least, I think so.
I didn't get much sleep. I tossed and turned and sent text messages to Mom for updates, but she didn't have much information to give. She said he was in critical condition and was still in surgery. The good thing, though, was that he was still breathing. For now, at least.
Around 7:00 a.m., I heard footsteps. I picked my head up and watched as Cane passed by the den. He glanced in my direction, but kept walking, and even with that tiny glance, I spotted his regret as clear as day.
Thirty minutes passed before he showed up again, in fresher clothing and his hair gelled back. He was rolling the sleeves of his gray button-down shirt up to his elbows as he stepped into the den.
"Your mom called, said I could bring you to the hospital with her now." He didn't look at me for long. His eyes shifted over to the window instead as he slid the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his black slacks. "Do you want me to take you by your house to change clothes?"
I lowered my gaze and studied the sweat pants and pink camisole I was wearing. These were my pajamas. I couldn't go out like this, and even though I wanted to be as far away from Cane as possible in this moment, I simply nodded and stood up.
"Yeah, that would be great," I murmured.
He nodded once and then turned as he said, "I'll get my keys."
After collecting his keys, he led the way to the door. I noticed that this time he didn't usher me out with a caring hand on the shoulder or arm. No. He didn't touch me at all. Hell, he could hardly even look at me.
I climbed into the passenger seat, my phone clutched in hand, as Cane got behind the wheel and started the ignition. He drove away from his house in complete and utter silence. I was almost tempted to turn the radio on.
Why wasn’t he blocking out this godawful silence with some kind of noise? It's like he wanted it to be like this between us—uncomfortable and full of tension.
It didn't take long for Cane to pull up to my house. When he pulled up front, I climbed out with haste, hustling for the front door. Remembering I'd left my things at Frankie's, along with my keys, I picked up the flowerpot beneath the window and grabbed the spare, unlocking the door and walking right in.
The house was so still that it almost felt eerie. Normally, around this time on a Saturday morning, Dad would be in the kitchen helping Mom flip pancakes or humming one of his silly old school tunes. I'd walk down late to breakfast, and he'd tease me, calling me sleepyhead or zombie girl because I
hated being bothered until I had food or coffee.
The rims of my eyes lined with hot tears, but I fought the tidal wave of emotion and trotted up the stairs to my room. I washed up quickly and changed into a purple dress and sandals, tied my hair up into a bun, and I was on my way again—on the way back to an uncomfortable, awkward silence.
I slid into the passenger seat of Cane's car and he backed out of the driveway before I could even buckle my seatbelt.
Seeing as he seemed to be in such a hurry to get me out of the car and away from him, I expected Cane to take me straight to the hospital and deliver me to my mother. Instead, he pulled up at a coffee shop and turned to me, expectantly.
"Want anything?" he asked, and his voice—the offer—made my belly twist. In that moment, I wasn't sure if it had twisted in a positive or negative way.
I shrugged. "I've never been here before. I'm not sure what all they have."
He looked at the vintage brick building very briefly before focusing those tired eyes on me.
His eyes were grayer today, cloudy and unreadable. "Come in and see."
He got out of the car before I could decline. Sighing, I unclipped my seatbelt and stepped out, following Cane to the entrance, but making sure to keep some distance between us. He opened the door for me, and a bell chimed above my head as I entered.
The welcoming aromas of coffee beans and baked goods surrounded me, and for a split second, I wasn’t worried about the naughty things that had happened the night before. Instead, I was focused more on the coffee shop, and the industrial structure of it. This place was most likely a warehouse before being renovated with bleached brick walls and a pale green color scheme. The ceiling was very high up, and skylights were built into it, which gave the place a beautiful, natural aura. My love for the coffee shop was instant.
Cane walked past me to get to the counter, and I met up beside him, still making sure not to stand too closely as I scanned the menu. Even though it was nearing nine in the morning, it was warming up outside. I decided to go with an iced caramel coffee.
Cane ordered two more coffees and when they were finished and the cup holder with all three coffees was handed to him, he said, "Other coffee's for your mom. I'm sure she's exhausted."
"Yeah, probably."
Cane got in the car, leveling the cup holder in one hand and shutting the door with the other. I took the cup holder from him and placed it on my lap, grabbing my iced coffee and sipping it. It was amazing. Probably the best iced coffee I'd ever had. I made a mental note to mark Bean & Dreams as my new favorite local coffee shop.
We were off again. It wasn't as awkward now, but only because I could occupy myself with sipping a drink.
We were about five minutes away from the hospital when Cane finally decided to talk—like actually talk.
“Listen, about what happened last night…” He let out a ragged breath, swiping a hand over his face. His other hand gripped the wheel a little tighter, and I saw his jaw pulse twice. While he gathered his words, I studied the letters on his knuckles. It said R-I-S-E, a letter on each knuckle, except his thumb. The tattoo was on his neck too. I wondered what it meant. "I don't want you to think—well, I mean...I just don't want you to expect it to happen again," he went on. I was looking at him, but when he said that, I lowered my gaze, looking at the creamy white lids on the hot coffees instead. "I had a weak moment. We both did. You had that drink, and I was drinking a lot last night. It was late and we were both tired and struck with grief. I probably shouldn't have given the drink to you. I just—we can keep what happened between us, right? If you aren’t okay being alone with me anymore, I understand, and you don’t have to be after today. I feel terrible about it, Kandy. I never should have put my hands on you that way."
My head shook as he stopped at a stop sign. "You don't have to apologize for something we both wanted."
"Both?" he asked, like he was shocked. "You think I wanted that to happen?"
I smashed my lips together and raised my eyebrows.
"Kandy, I—"
"I wanted it, Cane. I know you regret it because of your friendship with my dad and mom, and probably because I’m much younger than you, but...I don't."
"Kandy," he groaned again, and then let out a coarse, dry laugh. "You can't want me, you understand? I'm not the guy for you. You're young and have your whole life ahead of you." We were in the parking lot of the hospital a minute later, and just as he parked, he turned to me and said, "Just know it can't happen again, all right? I won't touch you. I won't let you drink around me anymore. When I'm around you, I'll keep my hands to myself completely, if that will help. If you want to tell your parents, you can. I'll accept the consequences." He smiled weakly, like that was the last thing he wanted me to do. "Nothing has to change," he murmured. "I still care about you. I just don't want mistakes like that to ruin the bond I have with you and your family. You understand what I mean?"
"Mistakes?" I repeated, and my throat thickened. I knew it was a mistake, I did, but I didn't expect him to actually say it out loud. How could he pretend he didn’t enjoy it? I heard it in his voice—saw the lust written all over his face, the hungry flames in his eyes. "Wow. Um...okay." I jammed my thumb into the seatbelt button and snatched it off. "Sure, Cane. I understand."
I handed him the cup holder of coffees—well, more like shoved it into his hands, leaving him no choice but to take it.
"Kandy, come on," he groaned, but I got out of the car and shut the door behind me before I could hear him say anything else.
Last night really had changed everything. But what he didn't understand was how badly I wanted it. How much I needed it. After nursing a crush so strong for so many years, I finally set it free and gave it something it wanted. It wasn’t a dream. It was real and I felt everything.
It was only the tip of the iceberg, but I wanted more. So much more. I was so damn greedy for him that it was hard to think about the consequences that could ensue.
I didn't think about how close he and Dad actually were, or how Mom would raise hell if she even caught wind of it. It would never work, no matter how much I wanted him.
But still, I let my stubbornness take charge. I didn't walk beside Cane. I led the way, finding the front desk and telling them my dad's name. Once I was given the room number, I made it my mission to get there as quickly as possible.
It was hard to do, but I let my thoughts of Cane and last night go, focusing on the fact that I was finally where I actually needed to be: at the hospital, about to see my mom and dad.
13
KANDY
Once I had the room number, I took off for the elevator, pressing the up arrow when I reached it. I smelled Cane’s cologne before I could look over my shoulder and see him meet up behind me.
He wasn't looking at me. He was focused on the digital numbers above the elevator instead.
We boarded in silence.
Being in such a confined, tight space, alone with him, was torture. The scent of him overwhelmed every single one of my senses. He was too close. Too much. I could hear him breathing lightly, but still, I kept my shit together and pretended his presence didn't bother me—that I was on a mission and he was the last thing on my mind
As soon as the doors drew apart, I rushed out, scurrying down the hallway until I found Dad’s room number. I opened the door to his room, and as soon as I stepped inside, Mom sprung out of her seat. Her eyes were tired, but when she saw me, they lit up.
"Mom," I breathed, and a rush of relief washed over me as I dashed her way and threw my arms around her neck. I hugged her tight, like this hug would help me forget about what happened only hours ago with Cane—make me forget about the phone call she had to make and the reason we were here. I hugged her like everything would go back to normal.
But it didn't.
Everything was still the same.
I pulled back a fraction to look at my dad.
He was laid on the bed, his head propped up on pillows, wearing a green
hospital gown. A bandage was wrapped around his neck and a small amount of blood had leaked through it. I drew in a sharp breath, pulling my eyes away and planting my forehead on Mom’s shoulder. I couldn't look at him like this. He wasn’t Mr. Strong-O, the man I admired more than anything. He was frail and tired.
"I know, sweetie," Mom cooed, rubbing my back. "I know. But guess what?"
I looked up at her, meeting the brown eyes that were identical to mine. "What?"
"He's going to be okay," she chimed with a soft breath, but I could tell she wanted to scream. I could tell by the smile plastered on her face that, despite his current condition, she was happy. So, so happy.
"He is?" Relief struck me. "Oh, thank God! I was so worried!"
"Me too, honey. But the surgery went well. The bullet that hit his thigh didn't damage too much. He’ll still be able to walk but he’ll need some physical therapy. And the wound on his neck was just a hard graze. He's going to be a little sore when he wakes up and will probably have to spend a few more days here, but he's going to be okay." She reeled me in for another hug, and I squeezed her tight.
I was crying now, and I shut my eyes, soaking it all in. In that moment, last night didn't matter. Cane didn't matter. My dad was going to live. That was all I could have asked for.
A throat cleared behind me, and Mom pulled away, looking over her shoulder and smiling at Cane.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Cane," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't even acknowledge you when you came in. Rude of me.“
"It's okay. I understand what you're going through." Cane took a step forward. "That's great news about Derek. I'm glad he's going to be okay," Cane murmured, glancing at Dad. "I was really worried about him, too."
"I know you were." Mom took a step away from me to pat Cane on the shoulder. "Thank you for taking Kandy in last night and watching over her."
Wanting Mr. Cane Page 7
