Is she having
“Kyler.” The way Cassey breathes my name out halts all coherent thought. “Ohhh.”
I smirk. My girl is having a wet dream, starring yours truly. I would laugh if I wasn’t so turned on by it.
Her eyes fly open and her chest heaves.
“Good dream?” I tease.
Her head whips in my direction, her eyes growing wide. “Oh no,” she whines, covering her face with her arm. I chuckle and pull her closer to me. “Watching you have a wet dream about me,” I kiss her slightly damp neck, “is so fucking sexy. You should dream about me more often.”
“Twice is enough,” she mumbles under her breath.
I lift my head. “It’s happened before?”
A rose-colored blush fills the apples of Cassey’s cheeks and she tucks her head into my shoulder, nodding.
“Tell me,” I whisper into her ear.
“Tell you what?”
“What your dreams were about.”
“Uhhh uhhh.” Cassey shakes her head, trying to pry herself free but I roll over and trap her beneath me.
“Please.”
She sighs, and opens her legs. I move my hips, rubbing the rigid head of my erection against her center.
“You don’t play fair,” she breathes out.
“I never have.” I grin against her mouth and kiss her deeply, coaxing her tongue with mine. I slide my hands down and they disappear into her sleep shorts as I cup and squeeze her butt. Her body goes stiff for a second and I know what she’s worried about.
“Relax, Cass, I won’t touch you.”
I continue to rub her pussy with my hard length, seducing her body and soliciting a breathy moan as I suck her bottom lip into my mouth. I press my hips down harder and increase the pressure on her clit just enough to set her off. A deep, breathy moan makes its way up from her throat. Her cheeks flush, and she tries to catch her breath.
“Was it anything like that in your dream?” I ask, grinning widely. Her lips twitch, and her bright green eyes roam my naked chest. “No,” she murmurs. “My dreams had handcuffs.”
I feel my brows rise and my curiosity piques. “Handcuffs, huh? We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we.”
Cassey’s arms wrap my around my neck and she pulls me down to her mouth.
“Promise?” I feel her smirk against my mouth.
“Hmmm hmmm,” I reply, crashing our mouths together. Her hands slide through the strands of my hair, and my body relaxes into her. My cock is so hard it hurts, but making out like teenagers is just as good.
My phone vibrates, and I moan, dropping my forehead to Cassey’s neck. “You should answer that,” she says with a giggle. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Without me?”
“Join me after you take that call,” she replies. She smiles and gives me a chaste kiss.
“I can’t wait that long. Whoever is calling can call back later.”
Cassey reaches over, and checks my phone before giving it to me. “It’s your mom, I suggest you take it.” She slides out from under me and swings her hips on her way to the bathroom. I’m so distracted that I almost forget my phone is ringing.
“Hi, Mom,” I greet, sitting up.
My mother sniffles on the other end of the line, and her next words make the floor drop out from under my feet.
“Kyler, sweetheart, it’s your Father. He collapsed. We’re at the hospital.”
Chapter 11
~ Cassey ~
Helpless. That’s how I feel. I see the fear and pain marring Kyler’s face, and wish there was something I could do to ease it. But I can’t. Life is cruel and unpredictable, and I feel my heart crack between my ribs for what he’s about to face.
“What do you mean you have something else to tell me?” Kyler grinds out, his hands balled into fists. I rest my hand on his arm, hoping to calm him, but he just brushes me off.
His mother, Estelle, sniffles, and looks down at her weary husband. He nods once and her sad, desolate eyes move back to Kyler.
“Your father,” she takes a breath, and I can see she’s struggling to keep her composure, “has stage four pancreatic cancer.”
Kyler’s face pales and he looks between his parents. “How long have you known?”
“A week,” his father croaks out. I cover my mouth with my hand, and feel the tears burning my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kyler roars. His mother flinches, and her tears start streaming down her face.
“Son,” his father reprimands. Even in his weak state, Robert Knight’s voice still has an authoritative tone.
“No, Dad! I deserved to know! You’re dying, and you didn’t think your only son needed to know?”
Another sob comes from across the room and my heart drops at the sight of Estelle. She’s devastated.
I bring my hand up to Kyler’s chest, his heart racing beneath my palm. “Kyler,” I call his name softly, and he looks at me.
His eyes are glazed, tears forming and spilling over the rims of his eyelids. It kills me to see him like this, so confused and so lost, like a little boy instead of a grown man. His body relaxes and he drops into the chair next to his father’s hospital bed. His head rests in his palms, and I watch his shoulders shake as he cries.
“Cassey, sweetheart.”
My eyes dart up at the sound of Robert’s voice, and he gives me a sad smile. “Can you give us a minute, please?”
I nod, wiping my face, and he turns to his wife. “Let me talk to him,” he says to her. She kisses his forehead and then his lips. I feel like I’m intruding, but I can’t tear my eyes away from them. Their love and adoration for one another is palpable, and so true that my heart breaks all over again.
I couldn’t imagine having to say goodbye to the love of my life after spending more than half my life with that person at my side. Estelle walks over to me, and I wrap my arms around her waist as we leave Kyler and his father alone. I don’t know what to say, so I keep quiet. Estelle doesn’t seem to mind though. She sits silently in the uncomfortable waiting room chair and stares out the window.
An hour later, a nurse walks in, and looks at Estelle. “Mrs. Knight, your husband is looking for you.” She nods, and gets to her feet, turning to face me. “Thank you, Cassey, for being here with Kyler,” she says, a sad smile slipping onto her face. I rise to my feet and hug her tightly.
“I’m so sorry.” A sob escapes and her arms tighten their hold on me. “If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
She pulls back to look at me, and her hand cups my face. “Thank you, sweet girl,” she pauses, “My husband is right about you.”
Before I can ask what she means, Estelle turns around and disappears around the corner, leaving me alone in the waiting room. Instead of going in search of Kyler, I decide to head home, and give him some time with his parents. This is a lot to process, and I don’t want to intrude. I also feel guilty, because while Kyler is dealing with this news, I’m thinking about where this leaves us, whatever version of an us we are. God, how could I be thinking about this right now? I chastise myself. I shake my head and pull up the number for a cab company. Kyler needs time, but I find myself hoping that when he leaves the hospital later, it will be me he seeks out.