by K. L. Myers
“No.” You would think I slapped Cayson in the face when I said it. He immediately pulls back from me while hurt fills his eyes. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want you there. I do, but you have an obligation to the label and your fans.”
“Fuck my fans.”
“Stop, Cayson, you don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it, Kayla. Look, my fans are just that. Fans. They’ll come and go throughout my career, but you, you, however, are my present and my future. You took away my ability to be there for you while you went through chemo, but you won’t take away my ability to be there for you now and moving forward.”
“You want to know how you can be there for me, Cayson?”
“Of course.”
“Spend the next forty-eight hours just being with me and then get on that bus and head to New York. Give them the best damn concert there is and finish out the rest of your tour. That’s what you can do for me, Cayson.”
Chapter 15
Cayson
Kayla is crazy, absolutely off her rocker if she thinks I’m going to leave her side and finish out another eight months of our tour, which includes another set of concerts in Asia before we finish out here in the United States. How can I even contemplate walking away from her when she needs me? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe she doesn’t need me at all. Maybe all we’re ever going to be is a bunch of phone calls and texts. How can we even have a normal relationship if I’m never home?
My mind starts to wander to places I don’t want it to go. This is why relationships with musicians and actors never worked out right? Because they’re never in one place long enough to spend any time their partners. Kayla will never really need me; not the way I need her.
“Hey, what are you thinking about, Cayson?” Her hands stop brushing my back, finding their place on my shoulders as she pushes me back onto the bed and straddles my waist. Her eyes latch onto mine, and I just stare at her. Even in her current state, she is the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in months.
“I know I look like hell,” she says, lowering her eyes and dropping her head. I know she feels self-conscious, but I’m not going to have any of that. My fingers graze over her cheek and then rest on her chin, lifting it until our eyes meet again.
“Look at me. Look into my eyes, Kayla, so I‘m sure you’re listening to everything I’m going to say. Do you not see how beautiful you are to me? Regardless of what you think, you will always be the most beautiful sight I’ll ever see.” Kayla’s cheeks turn pink, adding some color to her almost colorless face. “It’s not what you look like on the outside, princess. Okay, well, I like what you look like on the outside, and yes, it’s what first caught my attention, but it’s what’s on the inside that held my attention. It’s what’s on the inside that captured my heart, and it’s what’s on the inside that I want to spend my days and nights with.” The last sentences are said with conviction so I know she understands that it is her I want, not her looks.
My hands reach up to grab the wig she wears. As I start to pull on it, her fingers wrap around my wrists, stopping me. “Don’t, Cayson. I don’t want you to see me bald.”
Without hesitation, I roll us until she is pinned below me. I press gentle kisses to her face. “Please let me,” I say as I gently remove the wig from her head. My heart stops briefly when I see the look of horror on her face. She has nothing to worry about; she is beautiful even without her hair. So beautiful that my cock begins to stir in my pants. “Do you feel that, princess? Do you feel how hard I am for you?” I press my erection against her center, making sure there is no confusion about how I feel about her. “It isn’t your hair that makes me hard and throbbing. It’s you I crave. It’s you I want to bury myself so deep in that we both lose sight of who we are until we are one.” My hips grind once more against her, causing a moan to escape her lips.
Long legs wrap around my back as she presses her heat against me. My lips crash against hers, desire and want taking over. The kiss is ferocious, anything but gentle. Kayla’s hands claw at my back until she can’t take it anymore and begs for me to take my shirt off. Who am I to deny her anything she wants? I reach over my shoulder with one hand, grasp the collar of my shirt, and pull it over my head. Kayla lifts her head to my chest, her lips kissing, nipping, and sucking at my skin. Driving me crazy with desire for her.
Is it wrong of me to want her naked beneath me? Will I be a selfish, insufferable asshole if I take her, here on my bed, on our bed if I have my way someday?
“Kayla, you’re making it hard for me to control myself. I want to strip you bare and take you.”
“Then do it, Cayson. Don’t just tell me, show me.”
No sooner have the words left her mouth, am I on my feet stripping out of my jeans and boxer briefs. My cock springs to attention as I free it from its confines. Even though I am in a hurry to get out of my clothes, I’m not in a hurry to get Kayla out of hers. I start with her shirt. With both hands on each side of her stomach, I kiss every bit of exposed skin as I slowly raise her T-shirt up her body. When my hands finally reach her breasts, I stop and look into her eyes, silently begging for permission to continue. When she doesn’t say anything, I pull her shirt the rest of the way off her body. It’s then I notice the raised bump on her chest. Kayla’s eyes go wide when she realizes that I’m focused on whatever is causing the bulge under her skin.
She pushes her right hand against my chest, and her left immediately covers the area I’m focused on. “Oh, my God, I’m so embarrassed. This is a bad idea.” Tears begin to leak from her eyes and roll down her temples and down her bare scalp.
Without even thinking, I lower my head to kiss the top of her left hand. “This isn’t a bad idea, princess. I just wasn’t prepared. What is that?”
“It’s a port-a-cath for my chemo treatments,” Kayla explains, her eyes looking anywhere but at me. “It’s okay if you want to stop. I know I must be hideous. I’m not the same woman you left months ago.” Kayla’s legs release from around my waist, and she begins to wiggle, trying to roll out from underneath me.
“Stop. Just stop moving, Kayla.” My tone is a bit harsher than I expected it to come out. “Don’t ever call yourself hideous. You are the not hideous to me; you are quite the opposite. You are stunning.” The last thing I want to do right now is stop. “You’re right. You’re not the woman I left months ago. That woman had captured my heart, but the woman you are right now has consumed my soul.” My hands slowly push the cup of her bra down to expose her nipple. When I let my mouth cover her hardened peak, the most sensual moan from her mouth echoes through the room. My tongue and teeth worship every bit of her nipple before moving on to her other breast. I feel like a horny teenager as I grind my erection into her yoga pant-clad pussy.
“Oh fuck, Cayson. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Each word is spoken with more hunger than the last.
When I am done adoring each of her perfect mounds, my body yearns to taste her pussy. I let my tongue slide down her stomach, stopping to circle her belly button before licking back up to the swell of her breast and then back down, dropping lower as I slide her yoga pants down. With each lick of her skin, I tease her by blowing lightly along the wet line left from my tongue. Kayla’s back bows off the bed as she whimpers in anticipation of my lips settling on her throbbing nub of nerves between her legs. My shaft aches with need, pulsating against the sheet and oozing pre-cum from its tip. I long to be inside her.
“Oh God, stop, Cayson, stop!” Kayla cries out instantly. “We can’t do this. I can't do this. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
Have I done something to hurt her? Disgusted with myself for losing control, I quickly sit back on my haunches. “What did I do wrong, princess? Did I hurt you? Because if I did, I didn’t mean to, and I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t you, Cayson. You did everything right. Sex has been the furthest from my mind. But God, you made me feel so good and so desired that I lost control.”
I can’t control the devilish smile that lights up
my face. “They don’t call me the pleasure god for nothing, princess.” Kayla's hand is swift to smack me, quickly lightening the tense mood that has built between us.
“I can’t have sex with you, Cayson. My platelet count is too low. I want you badly, though. I love how you are making me feel.”
I want Kayla as badly as she wants me, and if sex is out of the question, that doesn’t mean I can’t pleasure her in other ways.
“Princess, we don’t have to have sex for me to show you how much I desire you and how much you mean to me.” My hands slowly caress the inside of her calves, rising gently to the inside of her thighs. Tender kisses follow my hands as they blaze toward her center. When my fingers reach her clitoris, I begin to circle her little package of nerves until she is writhing below me and screaming out my name. “That’s it, princess, let the whole world know how good I make you feel. I love hearing you scream my name.”
It isn’t long before her hand tightens around my cock, my eyes rolling back in my head. With every stroke of her hand up my shaft, I lose a little bit more of the control I am trying to hold on to. I want to tell her this isn’t tit for tat. Just because I made her come doesn’t mean she needs to do the same for me. But it’s been a long time since someone other than my own hand has brought me pleasure, unless you consider that one time I was stupid and let some chick suck me off backstage after she left the tour. There was no pleasure in that; just a release of built-up toxins, and no way was I confessing to that right now. So, I bite my tongue and just enjoy the feeling of her stroking and squeezing me until I explode. Months of pent-up frustration finally release ribbons of white pleasure that shoot up her body, hitting her in the face and covering her tits. When I open my eyes, the satisfaction of seeing my seed strewn out on her has me inwardly acting like a caveman pounding my chest.
When I return with a warm washcloth to clean myself from her, Kayla has already placed her wig back on her head. “Why did you put that wig back on?” I thought she understood that she is beautiful to me with or without it. Can’t she tell by what just happened between us that it doesn’t matter?
When Kayla speaks, there is an undertone of insecurity in her voice. “I feel less self-conscious when I’m wearing it. I feel more like the old me, the undamaged and non-defective me.”
Gently wiping the rag up her body, I remove all traces of myself from her. “You are not damaged or defective. Do you hear me, Kayla? You are the same you; you were before I left. I get that you feel you look different without your hair, but you can’t use your wig as your shield of protection, at least not with me. If you can’t feel comfortable around me as you are, then what chance do we have at a future?” I stand and toss the rag into the bathroom, letting it land on the tile floor. “I’m attracted to everything about you, not just your physical appearance. How many times do I have to tell you before you understand?” Reaching under her body, I pull the comforter down. “Lift your legs and let me tuck us in.” Kayla does as I ask, and I pull her into my arms, her head resting on my chest. Once we are both settled, I pull the comforter over us and gently brush the wig from her head, then toss it on the pillow beside her. My lips press against the top of her head, and I place several light kisses there before lifting her face to mine and placing one on her lips.
Chapter 16
Cayson
When my eyes open, it’s afternoon. This is pretty much normal for me, but not so normal for Kayla. With my arms still wrapped around her tightly, I begin to lightly stroke up and down her arm, enjoying the feel of her against me. I lie like this for a bit longer, just enjoying the normality of life outside of the limelight. This is what it could be like with Kayla at my side, right? Then my reality is shattered when it hits me that I don’t know how serious this whole cancer thing is. The quirky little snores that fill the room tell me Kayla isn’t waking anytime soon, and if I want answers now, I need to seek them elsewhere.
The phone rings three times before my mom answers. “Well, good morning, son.” Her voice is as happy as ever.
The fact that she is happy irritates me. After all, she’s known all along what Kayla was going through, yet she didn’t find it necessary to tell me. She kept something hugely important from me knowing how I feel about Kayla, so my tone is anything less than pleasant when I respond.
“You knew, but yet you chose not to tell me. Why?” I’m so angry with her right now that I want to reach through the phone and strangle my own mother.
When she responds, her voice isn’t quite so chipper anymore but rather rude. “As I said, good morning, son. I suspect this isn’t going to be a pleasant call.”
“You're damn right this isn’t a pleasant call, Mom. How could you keep Kayla’s condition a secret from me?” I bite back at her. I normally don’t disrespect my mom with rudeness, but as far as I’m concerned, she’s disrespected me.
“Cayson, I get that you are angry, but you don’t have to be disrespectful. When you’ve had a chance to come to your senses, you can call me back, and we’ll chat like adults.” Click.
She did not just hang up on me. Fuck, she did just hang up on me. “What the fuck?” I say to myself. If I weren’t still so angry, I might laugh at the fact that my mother hung up on me. Rather than dial her right back, I take a moment to breathe in and out a few times to get my temper under control. I know my mom well enough that if I haven’t calmed down by the time I call her again, I won’t get any further than I did just now.
I let thirty minutes go by before I decide it’s time to attempt to call her again. Kayla is still asleep, which is starting to worry me. After Mom hung up on me, I went back upstairs to check on my princess. I sat and watched her breathe, getting lost in the rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. Just being in the same room with her was enough to calm me, but now it’s time for answers.
I pour myself a cup of coffee and dial Mom’s number once again. She answers on the third ring. “Are you ready to speak calmly now?”
“Good morning, Mom,” I say sweetly, pausing a moment to take a sip from my mug. “Please fill me in on why you didn't feel it was necessary for you to tell me what was going on with Kayla.” As I speak the words, my anger starts to build again. It takes everything in me to push that anger down long enough to get answers.
“Good morning, Cayson.” Mom’s voice is monotone, holding no emotion whatsoever. “We—and I mean we, because it was a collective decision between all of us—didn’t feel saying anything would benefit anyone at that time.” Mom clears her throat and then continues, “In hindsight now, it probably was not the best decision. I’m sorry, Cayson, you’re right. I probably should have told you.”
“You’re damn right you should have told me.” My voice is elevated, almost a yell now. I need one more deep breath to calm myself before I continue my questions. “What do I need to know, Mom. How bad is it?”
Mom tries to avoid answering the question by telling me I should be having this conversation with Kayla but then finally acquiesces after I tell her Kayla is still asleep and I’m very concerned.
“Kayla has IDC stage II. When she first found out, her tumor was around 5cm, so the doctors suggested she go through chemo first and then they could do surgery after. She’s made great progress through the chemo, Cayson. In fact, her tumor shrunk to just a little over 1cm, which means she has the option of a lumpectomy versus mastectomy.”
My head is spinning in circles right now. I have no idea what any of what she just told me means. All I want to know is if Kayla is going to be alright or not. “Mom, English, please. I need the kiddy version of what you just said.”
“Basically, Cayson, Kayla has a small remaining tumor left in her left breast which will require surgery. She just needs to decide if she is okay with removing just the remaining tumor or if she wants to remove the whole breast. Her five-year survival rate is at eighty-two percent, which is good, but there are lots of things she still needs to decide on.”
I stopped listening when Mom said
eighty-two percent. All I heard is that there is still an eighteen-percent chance I could lose Kayla. I’m about to ask more questions, but I’m interrupted by the sound of Kayla coming down the hall. “Gotta go, Mom. Kayla’s up. Talk to you later.”
Pouring another cup of coffee, I turn to greet Kayla just as she enters the kitchen. The smile on her face when she sees my hand holding a cup of java for her is cute. “Mine?” she asks as she reaches for the cup in my hand. Nodding, I hand her the cup and gesture toward the table for us to take a seat. We spend the next hour talking about her cancer. My gut churns when she tells me there is a possibility that the chemo could affect her fertility down the road.
“Cayson, you should know I’m seriously considering having both of my breasts removed completely. I don’t know if I could go through this again, and if I do this, the chances of me getting breast cancer in the future are removed. It’s already rare that someone my age gets breast cancer, but it happened, and I’m really scared about the risks moving forward.”
Kayla walks to the sink and rinses out her coffee cup, then places it in the dishwasher before turning to look at me. “Are you sure you want to be stuck with a woman who has no tits?”
Her words are crude and feel like a slap in the face. “Jesus Christ, Kayla, what did you miss about last night when I said it was what’s inside of you that I’m attracted to, not the outside?”
“Cayson, there is a difference between not having hair that will someday grow back and not have a pair of tits. I want to have reconstructive surgery, but it won’t be the same. They won’t be mine, and they won’t look the same. I’ll have scars and…”
Kayla breaks down into tears and begins to sob uncontrollably. I watch as she sinks to the floor, pulling her knees tight to her chest and hiding her face behind her legs. This is some serious shit to deal with. I knew something was wrong months ago, but I never in my wildest dreams thought this would be it. We are both young, too young to have to be dealing with this much drama. I know I need to make a decision that will affect both of our futures. Kayla is giving me an opportunity, an out if you want to call it that, to walk away. I can end things today, go back out on the road and not look back, or I can stick it out with her to the end. That means the possibility of never having our own children. I know she isn’t looking that far into the future; she’s talking about the here and now, but with her, I’m always looking at the future.
