“6969.”
I rolled my eyes but typed it in. The screen unlocked to a home screen cluttered with app icons, most of them music-related. I opened his banking app, ignoring the number I saw there, and navigated to the transfer section, my fingers hovering over the keypad before I typed in my account number.
His thumb kept caressing the inside of my thigh. I had to say — I loved how his hand felt pressing against me.
My thumb hesitated over the amount line. “You sure about this?”
“Positive.” His voice was rough, the edge of something darker creeping in. “Send it.”
I entered the amount — thirty-five thousand — and hit confirm. The app processed the transfer with a quiet chime, the confirmation screen popping up. I turned the phone toward him so he could see it. “Done.”
Cross didn’t even glance at the screen. His eyes were fixed on the road, but his grip on my thigh tightened, fingers digging in just enough to make me think about how they would’ve felt holding me down under him.
I set the phone back in the console and shifted in my seat, spreading my legs just a little wider. His fingers stilled, thenslid higher, brushing against the damp lace of my thong. “We’re going to your place?”
“Mm.” He checked the mirror before merging lanes.
I pulled the thong aside, the short dress now bunched up around my waist, and slid my fingers up and down my pussy.
His eyes shot down, then back to the road, then down again, like he couldn’t decide whether to watch the road or me. The humid night air clung to my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat that came from him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. The car accelerated again, the engine growling like a beast straining at its leash. His fingers twitched on my thigh, but he didn’t reach for my pussy.
I let out a soft laugh, my fingers working faster, circling my clit now. The wet sound of my fingers slipping inside and then backing out filled the car. Cross’s jaw clenched, the muscle there jumping, and I could see the bulge in his jeans growing. It made me remember how his pierced cock had felt pressing against the back of my throat — how he’d tasted when he came.
“How far until your place?” I asked, my voice husky. I arched my back slightly, letting my head fall back against the door. My free hand slid up my stomach, fingers tracing the edge of the lace slip before dipping beneath it to cup my breast. My nipple hardened under my touch, and I pinched it lightly, a soft moan escaping my lips.
Cross’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Less than five minutes.”
“I can make it work,” I said, starting to finger myself. “Though your interior may be ruined after I’m done here.”
The car swerved slightly as Cross’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling my fingers away from my pussy. He brought them to his mouth, eyes locked on mine as he sucked them clean, tongue swirling around each digit.
“You’re gonna make me crash,” he growled, releasing my wrist. His hand dropped to my thigh again. “And I’d rather not die before I get to fuck you.”
I smirked, pulling my hand back and licking my own fingers. “But what a way to go, no,daddy?”
His apartment building came into view. The tower loomed, windows burning blue-white against the night, black metal balconies jutting like rib bones from the spine. I could smell the magnolias mixing with the exhaust of a busy city coming in through the air vents.
He drove around the building, to the underground parking lot, and I sat up, turning in the seat when he slipped into a parking space. I reached down for my silver shoes on the floor.
“You’re staying the night,” Cross said. It wasn’t a question, and I wasn’t about to argue.
“Okay.”
I got out of the car and padded, barefoot, toward him, feeling the rough, cool pavement of the underground against my feet. Without my heels on, he felt like a giant. I slid my hand into his.
The elevator ride up to the penthouse was a slow, electric thing. The mirrored walls reflected us back in fragments — his dark silhouette, my flushed skin, the way his fingers laced through mine like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go.
I rested my head against his shoulder. “I’m hungry, though,” I said eventually. “Like food hungry.”
Cross exhaled through his nose. “Food, huh?” His thumb drew idle circles on the back of my hand. “What do you want?”
“Something greasy. Cheese fries. A burger. Maybe a milkshake if you’re feeling generous.” I tilted my head up to look at him. He looked horny yet amused.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The doors slid open with a quiet ding, and we stepped into his penthouse. The city sprawled beneath us, a glittering webof lights stretching out to the horizon. He tossed his keys onto the entryway table with a clatter and turned on the lights. The chandelier in the foyer turned on instantly, washing everything in warm glow.
