“Oh.” He smirked, spreading his legs apart and sliding his palms over the thighs of his pants. “Well, she’s the one who told me about the seminar. I’ve told her quite a few things about you. She’s also a persistent little shit, kept pushing me for answers. I told her what school you went to, how I’d probably never see you again because you were so far away, and the whole thing with your parents knowing.” He shrugged. “Then, a couple weeks later, she tells me about the seminar, and how they were looking for business owners to come speak and share their personal success stories.”
“Really?” I smiled, amused.
“Yep. She sent the link to me in an email, but before that she signed me up without my permission. I was annoyed at first…but the idea of seeing you again grew on me.” He laughed. “If you can’t tell, my sister is fascinated with the idea of you. She also doesn’t care about consequences.”
“I can see that,” I laughed with him. “Why is she so fascinated?”
“Because for one, she knows you are years younger than me. She also got a kick out of the whole best friend’s daughter thing—said it sounded like something out of a book or from a soap opera.”
I grinned. Now that I thought about it, it did seem like it.
“And also because there are times when she’ll catch me thinking about you,” he continued, voice softer.
“How?”
“I don’t know. Just by little things. Like over dinner with her and my mother. I’d space out a little, and somehow she just knew who I was thinking about. She said she’d never seen ‘love’ on me before. Apparently to her, love looks weird on me.”
I broke out in a laugh, dropping my phone and sitting up. “Is it true that you love me that much?” I asked, my voice gentler. “So much that you came all the way here, spoke to a bunch of students who have probably already forgotten about your speech, just to see me?”
Cane sighed and held my eyes for a split second. He pushed to a stand, walking toward the bed. When he stopped on my side, he looked down with warm eyes.
“I lost my best friend because I couldn’t stay away from you. In the beginning, I thought it was an addiction, you know? Addicted to the risk of it—the temptation. The thrill. I figured, maybe if I went a while without seeing you, I could detox and forget about what we had. That didn’t even come close to happening. Every day felt more painful than the last. We spent that time together at the lake house and I can’t forget it. I can’t forget how perfect it was, or how you were there for me, and would have done literally anything for me. I can’t forget holding you in my arms, or caressing you in your sleep.” He placed a hand on the side of my face then used the pads of his fingers to gently caress the skin behind my ear. “I can’t forget your voice or these pouty, pink lips,” he went on, thumb skimming over my mouth. “I can’t forget you, Kandy. I’ve tried, but it’s not possible.”
I gazed up at him as he wrapped a loving hand around the back of my neck. I threw my legs back and pushed up on my knees on the bed, coming face-to-face with him.
“I can’t forget you either. No matter how hard I try…I can’t.” My chest bumped his. “I need you, Cane.” I slid a hand down his arm, clutching a loop on the back of his pants.
“You need me?” he groaned.
“Yes.”
“I need you too.”
I dropped my hand, running my fingertips over his zipper. I felt him twitch in his pants and he groaned, looking at me through hooded eyes.
“Did your pussy ache while thinking about me?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“How often did you think of me?”
“Every day and every night.”
He groaned again, a satisfied, guttural noise that made my skin hum and my body tingle. “Did you play with yourself when you missed me?” The tip of his nosed brushed across my cheek before trailing down my jawline.
“Sometimes,” I admitted, and the thought of it made me flush. It only happened in the showers. It was the only time I had privacy, and even so, I had to do it quietly. I thought about the shower, and how the water ran over my breasts and dampened my fingers just enough for me to slide a finger into my pussy.
He grabbed the ends of my hair, tugging lightly. “Tell me what you did.”
“I played with myself,” I whispered on his lips. “With my pussy.”
“Mmm.” He groaned. “What else?”
“I would close my eyes and press my back to the wall,” I continued, “and I would think about those moments we shared in the lake house, or even when I sucked your cock in the movie room in Destin. I even think about when you finger-fucked me for the very first time at your house, when we were alone and it felt so wrong and right.” I drew in a breath as his nostrils flared, eyes blazing with hunger.