Wanting Mr. Cane

by Shanora Williams

  I wasn’t kidding about what I’d told her in the kitchen. I wasn’t gentle or sweet when I fucked. I never had been, which made scarring her my biggest fear of all.

  33

  KANDY

  I was starting to get nervous.

  I’d washed the dishes, took my suitcase up to the bedroom he’d told me about, and now I was sitting on the canopied California King bed, running a hand along the cotton comforter. It was blue and plush, the walls a soft gray.

  I liked this room the best, and could see why he did, too. The window right across the room gave an elevated view of the lake. I could even see a few houses across the body of water.

  Cane was torn. I couldn’t believe I’d forced him into bringing me here and having us get to this point. Though I didn’t exactly make it an ultimatum, I implied it by making it known that if he left me with my virginity while I was in college, I would probably give it to someone else. I highly doubted I would give it to anyone right away, but things always changed—you never knew what could happen or who I could meet down the road.

  Day and night, it was Cane who was on my mind, not some other guy. Sure, I could meet someone in college, hang out with him, and get drunk, but I probably wouldn’t let him take it as far as getting my panties off. I’d been touched by Cane on more than one occasion. I had memorized and craved his touch, and knew no one would be able to make every single part of my body spring to life like he could.

  I was about to stand from the bed and go back downstairs, but the sound of his footsteps stopped me. I looked up as they came closer, and then he appeared between the frames of the door. His tie was loosened, the buttons of his dress shirt undone. His belt buckle was loose as well. He looked relaxed, like this was the look he wore after a long day of work.

  “Took a while,” I said softly, but instantly hated myself for the nervous betrayal in my voice.

  “I was thinking.” He walked into the room, looking around like he hadn’t seen it in a while. He drew in a deep breath and then unleashed it, dropping his eyes to mine. “Let’s not jump straight into this,” he declared.

  I sat up higher. I knew it. He was calling this off. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…let me freshen you up and get you relaxed first.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  He looked to the right, at the bathroom door, and then lifted a hand to gesture to it. “A bath okay? I have essential oils that I use for myself. Helps me unwind after a long day.”

  I pressed my lips and nodded “Sure. That sounds nice.”

  He was pleased, I could tell by the twinkle in his eyes as he shifted his gaze from me to the door. I wasn’t sure if it was the idea of bathing me that excited him, or if he was just happy to be able to finally see me naked.

  He walked past me to get to the door, pushing it open and walking into the bathroom. Standing from the bed, I made my way to the door too, gripping one of the frames and pressing my cheek to it.

  I watched him lean over and grip the silver knobs of the clawfoot tub. He started the water, dropping his hands under the stream to check the temperature. When it was just right, he grabbed a small, purple bottle from the shelf pinned to the wall above it.

  “Lavender and chamomile,” he noted, smirking at me. I smiled back as he added a few drops to the water. “It will make you feel calmer. Loosen the tension in your muscles. It always soothes me.”

  “I’ll be honest, Cane. I can’t picture you sitting in that bathtub,” I laughed.

  He laughed with me, a comforting noise that didn’t make me feel so out of place. “There’s a bigger one down the hallway that I use. My tub at home is a California luxury whirlpool. It fits two people.” He placed the oil in its rightful place and grabbed another bottle, adding a few drops of it to the water too and creating an instant bubble mixture.

  Walking to the cabinet by the shower, he took down a sky-blue towel, similar in color to the walls of the bathroom, and placed it on the towel rack. Going back to the cabinet, he pulled down two white votive candles in frosted glasses, sparked the wicks with a lighter from his pocket, and then placed them on the countertop.

  The oils from the tub were already making the bathroom smell delightful, but the lit candles made it romantic. When it was all set up, he came my way, stopping one step short. He grabbed my chin between his fingers, eyes falling to study my lips. “I’ll let you get comfortable. Turn the water off when it’s where you want it to be.”

  I bobbed my head and he pulled away, walking out of the bathroom and leaving me to it. I left the door partially open, my belly a swirled mixture of butterflies and excitement. I was truly nervous now. Cane would see me naked. Completely naked. A bathing suit wouldn’t hide me this time. I would be fully exposed.

  I undressed slowly in front of the tub. I looked all around me, from the tub, to the glass-cased shower, down to the stone flooring and marble counters, to the two windows that were a few inches above my head.

  I told myself this was okay. I was nervous as hell, but I wanted this, and it was finally happening. I couldn’t back out—wouldn’t back out. With that thought in mind, I dipped a foot into the water. It was the perfect temperature. I climbed into it and sat down, sifting some of the bubbles through my fingers and running them over my legs. I shut the water off when it was just above my chest, and no less than a minute later, Cane was coming back in.

  I drew my knees to my chest and smiled at him over my shoulder as he walked my way with a footstool in hand. He placed it in front of the tub and sat. He wasn’t wearing his dress shirt anymore. He’d changed into a plain white T-shirt. The shirt revealed everything, from his broad, sculpted chest to the perfect, narrow torso that led down to thick thighs. His tattoos were revealed, and it was always strange seeing them, but only because he usually covered them up. The look suited him, but if I’d seen a man like Cane, the last thing I would have assumed was that he was the millionaire owner of a wine, chocolates, and lingerie company.

  “The water okay?” he asked me.

  “It’s great.”

  He gave a close-lipped smile and grabbed something that was beside the tub. He lifted up a pink sponge and back scrubber and dipped it into the water.

  “I’m going to bathe you. All you have to do is relax,” he murmured. But relaxing was hard as hell to do when I was naked as hell in front of him.

  I did the best I could. I dropped my legs, and was glad the foam covered most of my breasts. “I know it seems weird and is new for you,” he said, running the sponge over my arm. “This is new for me too. Doing this with someone like you.”

  “You’ve done this for other women?”

  “Only one.”

  “Who?”

  “My mother.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Oh.”

  He was quiet for a beat, focused on sliding the sponge over my shoulder.

  “She was drunk,” he continued, focused on the sponge. “She’d thrown up all over herself, in her bed—everywhere. I had just come home and could smell it through her door. It was awful. Almost made me want to throw up.” He let out a pained laugh. “When I was younger, I remember she would use chamomile and lavender for my baths. I used to have a bit of a temper problem, so she’d run the bath for me, add the oils, let me soak for a bit until I’d calmed down, and then she’d come and help me wash. When I got older she didn’t do it as much, but I did miss them.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s nice. Sounds like you really love her.”

  He didn’t respond to that. Instead he swapped the sponge for the back scrubber. “Sit forward a little.”

  I did as instructed, and he scrubbed my back gently. It was so soothing. He was gentle and careful, but still thorough. “It would be nice to meet your family one day.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.” His voice was harsher. “They’re not good people to surround yourself with.”

  “How aren’t they? They made you, and you aren’t so bad.”

  He
stopped washing my back and pressed a hand to my shoulder, lightly forcing me to sit back. His eyes dropped to my chest and his nostrils flared. It took him a while to blink, but he did eventually. I lowered my gaze to what he’d been looking at before and noticed my light-brown nipples were prodding through the foam.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be.” He ran the sponge over my shoulders and chest, but was careful going between my breasts. His thumb skimmed over my nipple as he worked his way down, and my breath hitched. His throat bobbed.

  “My mother is a drunk and an addict. As a matter of fact, she’s in rehab right now,” he stated. “For the second time in a year, actually. I told her if she gets clean I’d buy her a condo in Charlotte. She wants to move there, open up a bakery soon and start over, but I refuse to invest if she isn’t serious about her health or her future.” I could tell he was talking about his family to distract himself from looking at me, or thinking about touching me, and I was okay with it. I’d always wanted to know more about his family, and here it was. “My sister is engaged to some shithead drug dealer and lives in Los Angeles with him, so I don’t see or hear from her much. He has money, so she doesn’t need much from me. Can’t forget to mention that he doesn’t like me.”

  “A drug dealer?” I frowned a little, confused. “Why a drug dealer?”

  He shook his head. I sensed that he knew the answer, but didn’t want to talk about it, so instead, I said, “Well, it’s nice to know you still care and think about them.”

  “I do care…but sometimes they make mistakes. I want to help them as much as I possibly can, but there’s only so much you can do for people who don’t really want help.”

  “I guess.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Is your dad still in jail?”

  “I’m assuming so, yes.”

  “You don’t keep in touch with him?”

  He frowned then, head shaking. “Fuck no.”

  “Has he tried getting in touch with you since?”

  “Yes, but I never respond. What’s the point? No person wants to have a conversation with a father who beat them senseless as a child.”

  Wow. That hurt my heart to hear, and from the sad look in his eyes and the tightness around his mouth, I realized this was hurting him too. Badly. “Cane, I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kandy.” He shrugged. “It’s the past. We live and we learn. He can’t hurt me now, and that’s all that matters.” He dropped a hand into the water, running the sponge over my belly. The lower he went, the more I felt myself clench. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. I’m here with you.”

  He washed the insides of my thighs, getting closer and closer to my pussy. I looked up and his eyes were on me, like he wanted to see how I would react with him being so close down there.

  By the way he stared, so hotly I could feel his gaze heating up my soul, I knew I’d given him the reaction he was looking for. My chest was tight as I held my breath, my fingers balled into fists while trying to control my body.

  Cane released the sponge, so that all that was left between my legs was his hand. He slid that same hand forward, pressing a finger to the lips of my pussy. He was right outside the folds, and with one push, he’d have access.

  Leaning forward to put his lips to my ear, his breath ran cool over my shoulders and down my chest, making my nipples tight and painfully aware of his presence.

  “Your pussy is so soft,” he whispered in my ear. I sucked in another breath, to which he said, “Relax, Kandy. Just breathe.”

  So I did. I inhaled and exhaled, letting the gentle scent of lavender soothe my mind and body. “Close your eyes and rest the back of your head on the tub,” he instructed.

  I shut my eyes and tilted my head back, the base of it meeting the coolness of the porcelain. I wasn’t expecting him to pull his hand away. I wanted him to keep it there, and even whimpered with the loss.

  He chuckled softly. “Patience, little one. We have two whole days together. Plenty of time for me to train and play with your body.” His fingers were in my hair, running through it. He poured some water over my hair, along with a squirt of shampoo, and then massaged my scalp. He did this for a while, and it felt so good that I wanted to nap while he did it.

  He rinsed the soap away and then washed my body again. This time he didn’t hesitate with the sponge. He ran it over my breasts, lifted my arms to wash beneath them, ran it up my belly and then down again to get between my legs. He washed me down there and I shifted, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

  “Breathe,” he whispered. “Relax.” His voice was calm. Deep. I breathed in and out as he washed me. “Okay?” he murmured.

  “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  He dropped the sponge again so all that was left was his hand. His groan was feral and deep as he spread the lips of my pussy apart. He slid a finger over my clit and a sharp gasp flew out me.

  My eyes popped open, my lips parted, ready to form words, but he repeated himself again.

  Breathe. Relax.

  I nodded, sighing, as he slid his finger down slowly and plunged it into me. The base of his palm massaged my aching clit while his finger thrust in and out.

  His eyes locked on mine, hot and hungry, while my lips parted. He immediately dropped his gaze to my mouth. Before I knew it, he was leaning forward, his mouth on mine to claim it.

  His hand worked faster, his finger hitting the familiar spot that triggered everything wrong and good inside me. It was a gradual thrust and swivel of his palm, all of it bringing me closer and closer to the edge as his warm, silky tongue devoured me. His lips were in sync with his hand. Every time he would thrust, he’d kiss me. Every time his tongue met mine, he’d groan.

  It felt so good.

  I almost wanted to cry from the pleasure.

  I was close…

  Close.

  Close.

  And then it happened.

  Only this time, it was much more powerful than the first time in the den. I came hard, gripping his arm tight. I accidentally bit his bottom lip and he hissed, but didn’t draw back.

  “Fuck, baby,” he growled, but I was still coming and he was still thrusting his finger and palming my clit, making sure he collected every ounce of what he worked hard to score.

  He grabbed my face with his other hand, forcing my eyes on him as I panted. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You know that?” His lips met mine one more time, his tongue getting a thorough taste of me, and then he pulled away. “Relaxed?” He smirked at me.

  I nodded, sitting up sluggishly. “Yes,” I admitted breathlessly. “Very relaxed.”

  34

  KANDY

  After my bath, Cane stepped out of the room to let me get dressed. I shuffled through my suitcase until I found the outfit I’d planned to wear—a sheer black gown that hugged my body. Despite the tightness, it still managed to be comfortable. I’d bought it with the spending money Mom had given me.

  I didn’t want Cane having any reason to deny me. If that meant dressing like an escort, so be it. I’d bought it for only his eyes to see.

  After I rubbed lotion on my legs and arms, brushed my teeth and hair, and checked the mirror a thousand times, the sun was no longer in sight. The sky still had a trace of light far off in the distance, but it was mostly dark now. Cane had lit candles in almost every corner of the bedroom, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

  I was ready now. Still nervous as hell, but ready.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, crossing my legs. As if he were on cue, Cane came back into the room, still looking amazingly handsome. As if he didn’t recognize me, he blinked rapidly before giving me a thorough sweep up and down with his eyes. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, my face blooming with heat.

  “Too much?” I asked softly.

  “No.” He took a step forward. “It’s perfect.”

  I dropped my gaze, releasing my trapped lip. “Cane?”

  “Yes?” He’d tak
en several steps closer, his eyes flashing from the candle light.

  “I don’t want you to think about anything else but me tonight. Okay?”

  He looked me over, puzzled for a brief moment. I don’t know if he was coming to terms with it, or if my request was unreasonable, but he finally straightened his back and said, “Okay.”

  After that, his eyes darkened and his jaw pulsed. This was a new Cane, in a completely different light. A darker, more mysterious man. A man who was ready to unleash everything he’d kept bottled inside.

  My request, I believe, is what skyrocketed the evening. Before, he seemed to be holding back, waiting for me to let him know that this was okay and that it was all I ever wanted.

  Well, it was. I needed this to happen right now. What we had at home had been placed on the back-burner. This was our escape—our moment—so we had to enjoy it. If there was one thing I knew, it was that escape was only temporary. So if this was going to be temporary, I wanted to fulfill myself and get as much out of this as possible.

  “So…what now?” I was truly curious. I had no idea what came next. Did I go to him, or did I wait for him to come to me?

  Cane’s jaw locked. He was quiet for so long that it made me fidget. My pulse skittered, creating a chaotic racket in my ears.

  Finally making a move, he took a step to the left and pulled his shirt over his head. As he did, I couldn’t help staring at the ink and abs that’d been hidden beneath the thin layer of cotton. He tossed the shirt aside, eyes falling down to mine again. All he had left were the black suit pants from earlier. The bulge between his thighs had grown.

  “I want you on your knees,” he commanded, voice gruff. This was a new voice. It held the same deep, demanding baritone he used when he’d had enough of waiting. “If you really want me,” he continued, “kneel for me. Right now.”

  I swallowed thickly, focused on him as I slid off the edge of the bed and fell into place. My knees pushed together when they hit the floorboards, my hands shaky. I don’t know why they were shaking. Why was I so fucking nervous? I hoped he couldn’t tell.