The Exception (40 page)

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Authors: Adriana Locke

BOOK: The Exception
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I watched as they got into the Escalade. Max drove and Kari blew kisses out of the window as they pulled out onto the street. They pulled farther and farther away and a piece of my heart went with them.

I had never felt so alone in every way.

Taking a deep breath and summoning all the strength I could muster, I put on my bravest face and marched back inside.

“I’m back!” I called as I walked through the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Heather shouted back as I made my way through the living room. “Where in the world did you go? I was getting ready to call someone to go find you.”

“You mean you wouldn’t come look for me?” I asked, laughing.

“Hell, no! If you had gotten kidnapped, I wasn’t putting myself out there to be a victim, too!”

“Nice,” I said. “Anyway, we had brunch and then did a little sightseeing. I’m pretty much worn out. I think I’m going to hop in the shower and go to bed.”

Heather looked alarmed.

“I mean, unless you had plans …” I looked at her skeptically, worried that I had hurt her feelings by not wanting to hang out.

“No,” Heather said quickly. “No, not at all. Actually,” she said, wiping the counter nervously, “I was going to go to Brian’s. He, um, he needs my help with something. I probably won’t be back until morning, if that’s all right.”

“Yeah, have fun,” I smiled. “I will see you tomorrow sometime.”

“Bye, Jada,” Heather said, smiling. She grabbed her keys out of the basket on the counter and headed to the front door.

I watched her leave and stood there, looking around the empty house, feeling the emptiness seep into my bones.

I kicked off my tennis shoes and left them, too depressed to even bother to pick them up. I shrugged off my jacket as I walked down the hallway to my room, smiling sadly when I saw Cane’s t-shirt on my chest. It was one of the few physical mementos I had of him and it made me feel like there was still some connection, like he was still close.

I opened my bedroom door and stopped dead in my tracks, my hand still on the doorknob.

On my bedside table sat a red plastic cup and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Cane’s scent was everywhere and I wondered how that was possible.

My heart raced as a chill ran down my spine. A mixture of confusion and hope melded together with memories and I could barely stand. I pushed the door farther open and tears sprang to my eyes.

He stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, eyes conflicted and as beautiful as ever. A smile broke out across his face tentatively, as if he were afraid to really believe what he was seeing, too.

I forced air into my lungs as I removed my shaking hand from the knob.

“Jada,” Cane said, his voice rough and needy.

“Cane,” I gasped. “You’re all right? I don’t understand … how? What are you doing here?”

“I’m just coming after my girl.” He grinned nervously and my legs began to go weak.

“I—”

“Simon was arrested last night, Jada. I don’t know the details because I didn’t ask. As soon as Nick told me, I hung up and called the airline to get here as soon as possible. All I could think about was getting here to you.”

I felt a huge weight lift, rising up off my shoulders. I felt like I could breathe again.

“So, he’s not a threat anymore?” I asked hopefully, the sting of tears blurring my vision. “You’re okay? You are going to be fine?”

“Yes, baby, I’m fine. And no, Simon is not a threat anymore. Not to me and, more importantly, not to you.”

My knees buckled and my shoulders sagged with relief.
Thank you, God. Thank you.
I wasn’t sure of anything else, but if this was the only thing I could be certain of—it was enough. Cane was safe.

Cane took a step towards me. He was a mess. His clothing wrinkled, a five o’clock shadow lining the jawline that I loved to kiss. His eyes were swollen and I wondered if he had been staying up at night, too, thinking about me … about us.

“Jada, it’s over. It’s all over now.”

My head felt light, like the room was spinning, and I shuffled my way to the bed and sat on the edge. The revelation that Simon was locked away, that Cane was all right, that no one was looking for me anymore … that Cane was standing in front of me was too much.

I put my head in my hands, forcing air in my lungs.

It’s over.

My mind was racing, not quite believing the words I was hearing.
This is too good to be true.
I struggled for air, my lungs feeling compressed.
What does this mean? Does this mean everything is okay now? Am I supposed to just go home and pretend this never happened? This is the end of Simon, maybe, but is this the beginning for Cane and I?

There was just too much to think about, too much to consider. Too many things to be thankful for and too many things to worry about.

Cane crossed the room quickly, kneeling in front of me. He kissed the top of my head, wrapping his arms around me.

The feeling of touching him calmed a part of my soul, healed a piece of my heart that had been hanging in the balance.

His touch was warm, a mixture of hard and soft that was uniquely Cane. He smelled of cedar and a hint of tobacco. It made me feel at home.

I felt pieced back together as he wrapped me in his arms. My world was righted again. That up
was
a viable option.

“I am so sorry.” His voice started to break. There was a vulnerability in him that I had never seen before.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his chest. Emboldened by my action, Cane scooted me to the edge of the bed, pulling me in.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated again, his voice barely a whisper against my skin.

I ran my fingers through his hair, longer than I had remembered, not sure what to say. Everything was still in such disarray, such a convoluted mess.

I couldn’t find the words that he needed to hear and I didn’t know the truths of my feelings to share. So I said the one thing, in the midst of all the disorder in my head, that I was certain of.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I was so afraid.”

His body stilled, his warm breath halting against my neck. He pulled back slowly, looking at me with wide eyes.

“I love you, beautiful girl. Your strength amazes me. Fuck, I think you are stronger than me.”

“I don’t know about that. I just …” I tilted my head to the side, studying his face. “The only thing that I know right now is that I love you.”

He pressed his lips to mine gently, holding my face on either side with his large, calloused hands. I closed my eyes like I did the first time he kissed me and tried to commit it to memory, willing my tears to stay away.

“That’s the one thing that matters. We can figure out the rest.”

Can we? What else is there to figure out?
I wasn’t even sure. I had been so focused on Cane and Simon that I hadn’t had time to sort everything else out
. Ashley, him pulling away before all of this went down, the fact that he had been lying to me …
My head began to pound as all of that came back.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m so glad to see you in front of me. I was so scared something was going to happen to you.”

“Hey. I’m here. I’m fine. It was you I was worried about. That’s why you had to go.” His voice was like music to my ears, music I had been dying to hear and was now being played just for me.

“I know.”

“But that’s over now. You can come back home,” he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of my face.

I looked into his eyes, knowing exactly what I wanted to do but not at all sure what I should do. I vowed once to always listen to my brain and not my heart, but I couldn’t tell them apart from one another anymore.

Cane pressed his mouth slowly to mine, his lips soft, gentle. I closed my eyes, releasing some of the worry I had been holding inside of me at finally being able to touch him again, of knowing he was safe.

Of knowing that he came for me.

I pushed all thoughts from my brain, pressed all decisions that needed to be made to the back of my mind as I focused on the present, of Cane laying me back on the bed and covering my body with his.

His body was heavy as he pressed it on top of mine, our bodies making contact at every possible point. He laced his fingers through my hair on each side of my head, holding me firmly in place as he kissed me like his life depended on it.

Maybe it did. Maybe mine did, too.

I became putty in his hands, my body responding to his like a siren’s call: letting him, trusting him, needing him to take the lead.

He broke the kiss, both of us struggling to catch our breath. He stared at me intently, his gaze as heavy on me as his body, until I finally became nervous.

“Cane? What’s going on?”

Very slowly, his face broke out into a smile. “If you only knew how much these little moments meant to me …” He looked down, blushing.

“I do know,” I whispered, “because that’s what got me through these last few days.”

I wrapped my arms around his back, my hands going beneath his shirt, feeling his muscles flex at my touch. I stroked his skin with my fingertips, feeling his body respond.

His lips found mine, more aggressively this time, as the fire that was always burning between us intensified once again.

“I need you,” he muttered against my lips.

I nodded subtly and his hands found the hem of my shirt. He drug it lazily over my head and tossed it away. I unbuttoned my pants, pushing them down and kicking them off. He grabbed a condom from his pocket before removing his pants, and depositing it onto the floor; his shirt quickly followed.

He was a sight to behold. His body was leaner than it normally was and chiseled to perfection. His shoulders were bigger, his abs more serrated. Men spent hours trying to achieve this level of definition.

Noticing my curious look, Cane smiled. “I’ve been boxing a lot. Hours a day.” He tore open the wrapper and rolled the protection over himself.

“I approve.”

He climbed onto the bed and over me again, holding himself above me in a push-up position. “I approve of this. And I’ve made a decision.”

“What’s that?”

“You are more beautiful than sexy.”

“Okay,” I said, not sure exactly how to take that.

“Don’t get me wrong—you are sexy, too. But that doesn’t explain who you are. Not to me. Being sexy is just on the outside. It would do you a disservice not to take into account the person you are on the inside. You are beautiful everywhere.”

“And you say you hate words,” I said, reaching up and pulling his face down towards me.

“It’s you. I lose the filter. It’s the only thing I don’t like about you.”

He lay on top of me and I could feel his hardness against my leg. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he guided himself into me. He pushed slowly, spreading me apart as he plunged deeper, inch by inch.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, pulling back and then rocking forward slowly again.

“Me, too.”

My body stretched with his size as he pressed in and then pulled out. He repeated the act until he found a delicious rhythm, not too hard and not too easy. He propped himself up on one hand, his other finding my nipple and rolling it between his fingers.

I closed my eyes and escaped the mental prison I had been in, enjoying the pure physical pleasure from the glorious man above me. He pressed harder, pulled quicker, my body building quickly until he pulled out altogether, causing my eyes to fly open.

“I want you on top.” He lay beside me, propping his head up on a stack of pillows.

I straddled his waist and hovered over him. I palmed his girth, solid against my hand, and sat down slowly until he was fully seated inside my body.

Cane reached up and squeezed my breasts in his hands, massaging them lightly as I began to move. He closed his eyes, a low growl escaping his throat. I moved faster, emboldened by his response, the friction of my body against his working me up quickly.

I rocked my hips as I moved, causing his mouth to drop open. He rumbled again, moving his hips to meet mine with every movement. He bent forward, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking the tip. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Cane … I’m—”

“I’m coming with you, baby.”

I swirled my hips with a flourish, grinding myself on his cock. I let out a moan as I tipped over the edge, my body firing harder than ever before. Cane pressed himself deep inside me, groaning as he emptied himself into my body.

All I could see was little white flecks as I came down from the high. I could feel Cane pull out. I watched him through the haze as he made his way across the room, his muscles tight, before coming back to the bed. He lay beside me, brushing my hair from my face.

“Well, that’s it,” he said sighing.

“What’s it, Cane?”

“You.”

“Me? What?” I laughed.

“You. You are it for me, baby.”

I leaned my head against his chest sighing as the weight of the decisions that had to be made make their comeback.
The past predicts the future. But is that a good thing?

JADA

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