“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.