Page 152 of Kneeling to Candy

“There were countless times I wanted to tell you everything. Yet I couldn’t, not when you joined our mission. You didn’t need any extra emotions weighing you down, especially when you knew Duffy was involved with the missing women. I couldn’t add to your plate. You deserved to know the truth, but not while dealing with those fucks.”

Gentle fingers roll over my knuckles of our joined hands. Her touch is a balm to my withered anxiety, one I don’t deserve.

“As asinine as your reasoning is, it makes sense. Ever since Vegas, you’ve been pursuing me like your pants were on fire. It was a complete one-eighty from where we were prior to Vegas. You seemed content with going at my snail’s pace before. The marriage put you into overdrive, checking all the boxes one would make to lead me to an altar.”

With my free hand, I cup her round cheek and pour all my heart into my words. “Please believe me. I love you with every bit of my being. It was never my intention to hurt you. I’ve only ever wanted to love you the way you deserve. And I’ve royally fucked it up.”

Candy shakes her head at me, her pink hair almost dry from after our shower. It curls in tousled waves around her face. “It hurts me you felt you couldn’t trust being honest with me.”

I flinch. She’s right. I didn’t trust her enough to be honest, mostly because I have no clue how she feels about me.

Yes, she cares for me. But I’ve orchestrated all the choices that have brought us together. Not one sober moment has been pushed by Candy. My heart aches not knowing if she’s with me out of convenience or love.

“You’re not wrong—I didn’t trust you would choose me,” I admit, my voice laced with bitterness and sadness. I drop my hand from her cheek, pulling away from her.

Candy pulls me back, cradling my face in both her hands, giving me nowhere else to look but at her. “Explain,” she orders, her gaze piercing.

This is not a memory I want to hark back to. Yet, if I’m going to give anyone an inside look of myself, Candy is the one I want to share my pain with.

“It deals with my parents not wanting me. I’ve told you a bit before. Are you sure you want to know the entire story?”

My woman’s face pinches like she’s hurting for me. “I know a thing or two about not being wanted by parents. Talk to me, Butch.”

Clearing the emotions from my throat, I tell her everything about my childhood—being raised by nannies so my parents could ignore my existence, living to impress them, only to be pushed away, and finally snapping to the point where my parents sent me off to live at one of those horrible facilities where they claim to turn lost boys into fine men while covering the abuse they inflict.

The whole time I talk, Candy gives me her full attention. She absorbs every word, and her facial expressions mimic each painful emotion I feel.

When I finish explaining my abandonment issues and the need to belong to someone like I belong to her, Candy pulls me in for a kiss. Her plump lips connect with mine, molding against each other. It’s not a lustful kiss, but one that’s passionate and healing. It’s comfort and hope and everything I need from her.

She breaks the kiss, resting her forehead against mine. The tenderness of our connection contradicts the words coming out of her mouth. “You stupidly clueless man.”

“Huh?”

Her brows pull together as she teasingly scolds me. “How can you be this adorably dense?”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re going about it weirdly.”

Candy throws her head back, laughing. She looks forward again, her face lit with a big smile. “God, you’re right. I’m shit with showing empathy.”

She gives me a quick peck before looking deep into my eyes with longing. “Butch, what I mean is, as much as you’re mine, I’m yours.”

Unable to believe what I heard, I rub at one of my ears. “Can you repeat that? I think I heard you incorrectly.”

She leans in closer, her voice soft yet unyielding. “Hear me, biker boy. I am fully yours.”

My eyes water as the weight of her words sinks into my thick head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.” She gives me the warmest of smiles, the ones she only gives me when her walls are completely down. “I choose you. I choose you every day for the rest of our lives. You’re stuck with me. Hope you know what you signed up for.”

I laugh through a sob caught in my throat. This beautiful goddess is choosing me—not only as her old man or lover, but as her husband and life partner.

Overwhelmed with happiness, I swoop in to steal a kiss from her juicy lips. She laughs against my eager mouth, kissing me back.

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say those words to me,” I admit raggedly against her lips, my need for her tenting the towel wrapped loosely around my waist. Not wanting to break the connection, I nearly groan in frustration when she pulls back.

The glint in her eye is pure mischief. It turns my hard cock into stone.

“Words are nice, but everyone knows actions speak louder. And I’m gonna show you how much I belong to you.”

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