Breaking Mr. Cane (Cane 2)

Shit. No. No no no no. I mean, SWOON! But no.

“Brody, I—“ I started to push away, but he held me tighter.

“I know something happened in your life that makes you not trust me—or any guy for that matter—but I promise you I’m not like other guys.”

“I know you aren’t,” I murmured. “Trust me, I know. You’re the sweetest guy I know.”

“So why won’t you give us a chance? Why do you still keep your guard up around me? Am I doing something wrong?”

My heart was beating faster with every word he poured out, my pulse rushing to my ears. I dropped my eyes and tried focusing on anything other than him. I didn’t know what to tell him. As badly as I wanted him to let this go, I knew he wouldn’t. Brody was persistent that way.

I refused to tell him about Cane, about my past, about my parents and how ashamed of me they probably were. I didn’t want him to know about the Kandy Jennings before college, the one who had, and still did, crave a man she knew she couldn’t have.

I didn’t want him to know that I wasn’t ready to move on, so I did the one thing I knew would shut him up.

I kissed him.

Chapter Twenty-One

KANDY

The kiss felt wrong and weird and…dull.

These lips weren’t the same lips that ravished and devoured me months ago. These lips were hungry, yes, but they were also careful and diligent.

Brody moaned, wrapping his arm around my waist and picking me up like I was the weight of a feather. Twisting us around, he laid my back flat on his bed and thrust his hardening cock between my thighs.

I tried my hardest to get lost in the moment. Just try. Maybe this will give you the extra boost to get over Cane, I thought to myself. I wanted Brody to take over every single one of my senses. I wanted to want him just as much as he wanted me…but I couldn’t.

When his tongue plunged through my lips, I didn’t feel the heat roll through my belly and zap me in the core. When one of his hands skimmed down my waist and the other palmed one of my breasts, I didn’t whimper or sigh with utter satisfaction. I was just…there. Stuck in a moment that did nothing for me.

But Brody didn’t care. He kept kissing me, quenching his thirst after two long months of waiting. He thrust hard between my legs, groaning when he broke the kiss to suck on my bottom lip. I sighed to give him satisfaction. It was his birthday. This was a gift from me to him, I suppose. We kissed until our lips were raw and his cock was straining in his jeans and digging into me.

“Damn,” he groaned, pushing up a bit to look down. “I’m so hard right now.”

“You are.” I forced a laugh.

He peered up, running the tip of his tongue over his plump bottom lip. “Should we—I mean…do you want that to happen yet?”

I swallowed and could taste the liquor from his tongue, as well as the tequila I’d downed not even ten minutes ago. Now was when I needed to be honest. It couldn’t go that far with him. I shook my head. “Maybe not tonight,” I whispered.

He nodded way too quickly, like he already knew I was going to turn him down. “Yeah. I understand.” With a grunt, he pushed up on his palm until he was standing. I sat up too, and couldn’t ignore the hard ridge in his pants. He dragged a palm over his face and groaned. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have come onto you like that. I mean—I wasn’t trying to rush things and I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—”

“Brody, stop. Please.” I grabbed his hand and tugged on it, forcing him to sit beside me. “It’s fine, I promise. You didn’t force anything.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He nodded, lowering his gaze. We were quiet for a while, the bass of the music filling the void.

“He must have been one hell of a guy,” he said. “For you to fully deny me like that.”

My heart dropped. “W-what? What are you talking about?”

“I think I figured it out,” he went on. “Why you’re so hesitant. It’s not because of something bad happening to you. You just aren’t ready to move on from whoever had you before you got here. Hell, for all I know, you’re still keeping in touch with him.”

He picked his head up and our eyes bolted. I had no words. None. He looked at me with so much empathy and sorrow, like I was some poor, lost soul who would never be fixed.

I panicked.

I couldn’t handle it.

The kiss shouldn’t have happened and staying there on that bed with him would have led to him asking about my past, about Cane, and he was the last person I wanted to talk about.