I hated looking at it because it always reminded me of where it came from and who did it. My body didn’t have many imperfections, other than childhood scars on my knees and legs, but this was one that I was going to have to look at and live with for the rest of my life.
“You’re beautiful,” Cane murmured, crouching down. His lips pressed to the crook of my neck, then my collarbone, and then traveled down my chest. “Lift up for me,” he rasped, and I sat up a bit while he reached under me to unhook my bra. When it was loose, he helped me out of it, then tossed it aside. He continued his way down my body, kissing the valley between my breasts and working his way over, sealing his mouth around my nipple and sucking until it became a pebble. My breath hitched when he let go and made his way over to the other one, sucking gently.
He kept making his way down more and more, until he was at my navel. He kissed me just below my belly button, then hovered over the scar. What is he doing?
“Your fear is rooted deep,” he finally said, and I glanced down while he held my hips. “You think that when I look at this scar, I’ll only think of her.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse whooshing in my ears.
“But that’s wrong, baby.” His breath was warm on my skin as he spoke. “Look at me,” he ordered, and I locked on his eyes. He lowered his face to kiss my scar. Not once, not twice, but three times. He kissed it like he was in love with it—like that scar was my lips, and he owned it. “From now on, when you see it, I want you to think of it as a victory. I want you to remember that you fought through it and you won. When you see it, I want you to remember that you conquered it. You understand?”
My eyes filled with tears as I nodded.
“She doesn’t own this scar, Kandy. She doesn’t own you. Your body is yours. Your mind is yours. Don’t let either one escape you again.” He dropped another kiss on it. “I take you as you are, Kandy. With or without scars. With or without babies. With or without tears. It changes nothing for me, and I mean it. I still love you the same—if not more. I don’t care what you go through or how much shit changes while we’re together, I’m here for you. I accept you, and this scar?” His head shook. “It means nothing to me because I see you as so much more than you see yourself.” He brought a hand up to push my legs apart. “And I mean it, baby. I fucking love you, from the bottom of my heart, and always will.”
After his last statement, his tongue pushed through the lips of my pussy. A gasp so sharp it could have cut through glass ripped right through me, and my back bowed. He held my waist, plunging his tongue deeper, rolling it over my aching clit. I’d been worked up for months, and was sure he had been too. We fooled around and teased, and I think all of it led up to this very moment.
My fingernails dragged over the sheets, and I moaned harder with every swirl of his tongue. Tears were at the corners of my eyes, on the verge of falling, and as he lapped me up, devouring me like I was all he ever wanted to taste, the tears fell, and I came. I came so hard and so fast that I didn’t even have time to prepare for it.
My cries echoed off the walls, a mixture of release and ecstasy bursting through me. In that moment, I was letting it all go. The hurt, the fear, the loneliness—everything that was setting me back before.
Cane was right. I was letting what happened rule me, even when I promised myself I wouldn’t. She was in my past.
Gone.
Abandoned.
Dust.
But he was here—right here—giving me everything I wanted and needed.
This wasn’t my typical kind of orgasm. No, this was ethereal. My tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and my cries transitioned to whimpers. My worries had been chased away, and all I wanted was him. He climbed on top of me as the wave of my release settled, kissing my lips, drinking my cries. Eventually, I started kissing him back, digging my nails into his waist. I felt his cock at my entrance, and he breathed raggedly. He was so hard—I could feel him, dying to be inside me.
“You okay?” he asked, smoothing my hair back.
“Yeah,” I gasped. “Take me. Please?” I begged.
He was torn, I knew. Like he’d said earlier, he didn’t want to hurt me. I knew all he wanted to do was go fast and come, but he didn’t. He thrust into me, and I held onto him tightly.
“Kandy, I—”
“Keep going,” I pleaded, and as if he couldn’t resist the sound of my voice, the way that I begged, he thrust even deeper. There was a sharp pain that made me gasp, and he was about to jerk back, but I shook my head, holding him. “Don’t stop,” I breathed. “It’s okay. Keep going.”
His breaths came out ragged and quick and with one more thrust, he was fully inside me. I gasped even louder, a heavy sensation taking over me. “Fuck, Kandy,” he hissed. “I’m stopping.”
“No, Cane.”
“Yes! I’m hurting you!”
“No, you’re not. I swear.” I clutched his upper arm with one hand, using my other to pull his face closer to mine. I kissed him deep, and he groaned behind my lips. I expected him to pull away—I felt the resistance as I claimed his lips—but then he let go, and his muscles relaxed, and slowly his hips began to move. His strokes were short and easy, and with each one, the pain faded.
I held onto him even tighter and kissed him as hard as my lips would allow me to. Cane broke the kiss, cursing beneath his breath. “Fuck,” he growled on my mouth. Bringing his hands up, he cradled my face in his hands, devouring me all over again. His cock felt so big inside me that it was almost unbearable, but the longer he went, the more my body adjusted to his size again.
Every single one of my moans became tangled with his groans. Every breath was a release of the toxic past that I so badly wanted to leave behind. He dropped his head, resting his forehead on my shoulder, his cock buried deep inside me. I missed this feeling so much.
Him on top of me.
Him inside me.
Owning me.
“Gonna come inside of you,” he panted, and it didn’t matter to me if he did or didn’t. I nodded, wanting to give him whatever he needed. My pussy clenched around his girth, and as he pumped just a little bit faster, a growl ripped through him. “Ah, shit, Kandy,” he moaned, his mouth going to the crook of my neck.
He picked his head up to look down at where we were connected, and I felt his cock pulsing inside me as he came. “Fuck, there’s so much cum. It’s everywhere.” He looked up at me, his eyes sparkling, a faint smile on his lips. “It’s been so long, baby.”
“I know it has,” I murmured.
He dropped his body as gently as possible on top of mine. I closed my eyes, unable to fight the smile that swept over my lips.
“You okay?” he asked in my ear after several quiet minutes.
I opened my eyes, running my palm over his shoulder. “I’m so much better now.”
“I love you, girl.”
I giggled. “I love you, man.”
Chapter Nineteen
CANE
We made love two more times that night, each time better than the last. I never knew making love could feel so good and form a connection so deep that I felt it in my spirit. Each time was enigmatic and amazing, especially when she found the confidence to climb on top and ride me until I came.
Her pussy was so tight, her tits bouncing as she worked her hips up and down. She’d unbraided her hair in between rounds, so when she rode me, some of her hair fell over her face. With the city lights pouring through the windows and the moon beaming down, she looked damn near exotic. She had no idea how perfect she was—no scar was going to take away from that.
“You’re so damn beautiful, baby,” I whispered, and when she came all over me, I came too. Coming inside her was another league of its own. It couldn’t be described—only felt.
Kandy was the only woman who could take my breath away. She was the only girl who made me feel like a king—like I was on top of the world by having her in my arms. Being with her made everything in my world feel right, which was why when she
wasn’t around, everything unraveled.
I wasn’t sure what time it was after we’d finished. I wasn’t big on sleeping during the middle of the night and lately, Kandy wasn’t a big sleeper either. We were both lying on the bed, her head on my chest. We breathed softly, not really talking. Just listening to the noises outside the windows—the faint sounds of cars and buses rolling by.
Don’t ask me how it was so peaceful. It was just was. The moon was bold and full, making her tan skin appear brighter.
Kandy traced a finger over the rose on the back of my hand. When she moved up to my knuckles, she tapped each one and made a small noise. “I’ve always wondered what that stood for,” she said. “Rise? You have it there and here.” She leaned up to kiss the bend of my neck, where the word RISE was permanent in my skin.
“Hmm.” I lifted my hand, studying my knuckles. “Long story.”
“Lora has the same word on her wrist. Did you get them together?”
“The one on my neck, I got alone, but the one on my knuckles, I got with her.”
“What does it mean?”
“A lot of things for us. But we got them as more of a promise.”
“A promise for what?”
“To never let anyone knock us the fuck down…” I smirked. “Lora’s words.”
She laughed.
“I got the one on my neck when I was sixteen. I had a little altercation with Buck. He was beating on my mother, so for the first time in my life, I hit him back. I shoved him, and he got pissed and hit me back, of course, but I didn’t fall and curl up like before. I stood my ground, taking the hit. He hit me again, made my mouth bleed, so I hit him back. I guess he realized I was getting old enough to do something about his shit, so he stormed out and left the house for a week.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “Well, at least you stood your ground. Scared him off.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “The second time was much worse, though.” My throat tightened just thinking about it. “I…uh…caught him with Lora.” I cleared my throat. Fuck, I hated talking about this.
Kandy grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to. It’s just…I hate thinking about it. Pisses me off every time I do. I’ve never talked to anyone about it other than my family and your dad.”
“I understand,” she said softly.
I closed my eyes, letting the hate dissolve enough so I could tell her. “I caught him in Lora’s room. Lora had to be about twelve at the time. I was twenty and in college, but I came back and forth to help Lora and Mama out when they needed me. I ran to the store one day and left Lora there. Buck wasn’t around all day, so I figured she would be fine, plus she said she didn’t feel like going, so I went alone. But when I got back and saw his truck there, my heart literally dropped to my fucking stomach. I heard Lora screaming and dropped the groceries to run inside. I got to her room, and that motherfucker was on top of her with his pants halfway down. He had her skirt off, but thankfully couldn’t get to her panties because she was putting up a fight. All I remember is seeing red that day. I mean, I flipped the fuck out. I knew he hit my mother often, and he hit me too, but when it came to Lora, that shit heated me up.” I clenched my fists, opening my eyes. “I snatched him off of her and hit him so hard in the face that his nose broke. He started gushing blood—it was all over the place, pouring all over Lora’s carpet. I remember screaming at him to never touch her again, to leave her the hell alone. All of these threats. He tried to fight back, but I wasn’t letting him that time. I beat him until his face was bloody, then I went to his closet and got his gun, pointing it right at him. Lora literally had to beg me to calm down before I ended up killing him.”
Kandy let out a sympathetic sound and squeezed my hand tighter.
I continued. “When she got me to calm down, she took me to my room, and it took me a while to pull myself together. I was so mad that I didn’t even realize how distraught she was. I had to chill out, so I helped her wash up and find something else to wear. Buck was still on her floor, still cursing and threatening us, even though he was clearly fucked up. I remember when Lora walked by, she stared at him. I kept telling her to come with me, but she kept staring at him. Watching him. And then she went up to him and stomped on his balls.”
“Holy shit! Are you serious? Lora did that?”
I smiled, remembering the look on Buck’s face as she did it. “Yeah, she did. Apparently that wasn’t his first time touching her. He’d done it before, but Lora hid it from me. That day I made her promise to never hide shit like that from me again.” I released my fingers, showing Kandy my knuckles. “To us, RISE means to never fall. RISE means it’s okay to stumble and to be afraid, but to never back away from our fears. Instead, we face them. It means that if we get knocked down, we will get the fuck back up and face whatever is trying to ruin us. Of course we had more altercations with him growing up, but Buck damn sure didn’t touch Lora like he used to. After that happened, she grew a backbone. She decided she was done taking his shit and was standing her ground with him and Mama. That’s why she’s so fucking stubborn now.” I laughed, and Kandy laughed with me. “When Lora turned eighteen, I remember her calling and telling me she wanted to get her first tattoo. That’s when I got this one and she got hers. After she got her first one, it became an addiction, and she got a whole lot more, as you can plainly see. Same happened to me, though.” I grinned. “Lora is strong-willed and stubborn, but she has every reason to be. Our childhoods were awful. We had a mother who loved drugs and alcohol more than us, and an emotionally and physically abusive father who always swore we wouldn’t amount to anything. One of my missions in life was to prove him wrong, and I have…but now he’s trying to come for the company that I built from the ground up.”
“What’s going on with him anyway? Where is he?” she asked.
“He’s still in Georgia. He’s been there since he was released because he’s been on probation…but I know he’s planning something. It’s been a few months, but he’s not an idiot. He’s keeping quiet, but he’ll come once his probation hearing is done. It’s just a matter of time after that.”
“Oh.”
I exhaled, bringing her on top of me. Her hair curtained one side of her face, a soft smile on her lips.
“I want a tattoo too,” she said.
“Really?” I kissed her cheek. “Where would you get it?”
She pointed to the outside of her hand, near the edge of her pinky finger. “Right here. I want it to say RISE too.”
I smiled. “I can arrange that.”
She laid her head on my chest, and I kissed the top of it. I felt so much better after filling her in on the truth.
Before I knew it, we’d fallen asleep. Only us, beneath the milky moon, with the sounds of the city surrounding us.
Only us, just the way I liked it.
Chapter Twenty
KANDY
When I fell asleep, there was only the pale moon, but when I woke up, the yellow sun was beaming down on me through the window. I moaned and rolled over, reaching for Cane, but he wasn’t there. Startled by the realization, I sat up and looked around the room. He was nowhere in sight.
“Cane?” I called.
No answer.
I pushed out of bed, grabbing the T-shirt he’d worn last night and tugging it over my head. I tiptoed my way to the kitchenette, and that’s when I spotted the note on the counter.
Went to the lobby to make a call.
You were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be back with breakfast.
I grinned while reading the note again. He would probably be a while. That being the case, I went to my suitcase, pulling out some clothes for the day. I took a shower, washed my hair, and when I came back out with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, I spotted Cane in the kitchen.
“Will French toast do?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Fre
nch toast sounds perfect. And it smells good,” I garbled out. I went back to the bathroom to finish up, got dressed, and then met him at the table.
He had both of our plates ready, so I dug right in.
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I had to make those calls today for Cora.”
“It’s fine. Stop apologizing.”
He smirked and cut into his toast, popping a piece into his mouth. “You like art?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
“What do you say we go to a museum today?” His eyes shimmered, and I laughed, grabbing the syrup.
“That sounds fun, babe. Let’s do it.”
“Oh, I’m your babe now?” he teased.
“Oh, shut up.” I giggled. “You’ve always been my babe.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t using that word all my interns use now. What is it? Bay, or some shit like that?”
“You mean bae?” I broke out in another laugh. “And no. I hate that word so much.”
“Yeah.” His nose scrunched up. “Me too.”
* * *
After eating, Cane took a quick shower. I did my makeup while he was in there, and we were off. He ended up taking me to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Going there felt strange. I’d never been in a museum on vacation, but I felt very hip for going—like I was ahead of my own time and generation. There were so many different forms of artwork there, some of it catching my attention much more than I thought it would. We spent an hour and a half at the museum, but instead of calling his driver, Cane flagged down a taxi, all because I was dying to have the experience of riding in a taxi in New York City.
To be perfectly clear, I hated it. All the movies I’d watched weren’t kidding about the traffic. It was awful. Due to our late start that morning, we ate a late lunch, and then after lunch, we walked to Central Park, where a small band was doing live music. The cool thing about this band, though, was that they played on recycled items: the drummer played on empty paint containers and old pot lids, and the singer didn’t have a mic, but was playing an acoustic guitar, while another guy played a harmonica, and another woman used a stick over the ridges of a water bottle.
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