Page 89 of Always: A Legacy Novel

That only made Catherine’s knotted, twisting insides turn even worse.

But damn, it was still pretty good.

Cross tugged on a strand of Catherine’s hair as he passed her by. “I would say the same for you, but I can’t; I don’t know.”

Catherine stiffened.

He didn’t miss it.

“What?” he asked quietly, coming back to stand in front of her.

Catherine shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Nothing.”

“You know I don’t expect shit, right? Not from you like that, if you don’t want to. I didn’t message you to come over today to fuck or mess around. I wanted you to come over because I’ve actually got a day to hang out, as long as I do stay at the house.”

“But …”

Cross dropped down into a crouch. His hands found Catherine’s thighs over her jeans. “But, what?”

“But don’t you want to?”

“Sure,” he said like it was nothing, “but only when you do. Only when you ask to.”

“Funny, any other guy seems to think they can just say what they want, and they’ll get it.”

“Guys are dicks.”

“You’re a guy,” she said.

“Yeah, but I’m not an animal, either.”

“I don’t get it.”

Cross stood a bit, his hands crawling up Catherine’s sides as he leaned over her until she was lying back on the bed. Her breath caught hard in her chest as his fingertips grazed the bit of exposed skin on her midsection where her shirt had ridden up.

“I mean, I’m not a dog or something,” Cross said, still letting his fingers explore the expanse of her stomach and sides. His knee pressed in between her thighs, and his face came close enough to hers for Catherine to see the bit of stubble forming on his jaw. “It means, when a guy does something unacceptable, it’s almost always excused. It’s like he can’t control himself or whatever, like something she did made him uncontrollable. That’s bullshit. Girls don’t make guys turn into animals—we don’t suddenly turn rabid because we get a taste of pussy, our cock gets hard, and then she decides to back out. Anyone who says differently is a fucking liar.”

With that, Cross pushed back up off the bed, away from Catherine, and winked.

“Come back down here,” Catherine urged.

Cross laughed. “I don’t—”

“I liked you there; come back here.”

He didn’t need to be told a third time. Only this time, she learned she enjoyed his weight on top of hers, and the way his hands grabbed her bare waist tightly. She found she liked how her muscles clenched and the warmth in her blood became hotter as his groin ground into her center. How it felt even better when her legs locked around his waist to keep him closer. There was no distance between them. She made sure to close it, kissing him until her lips felt numb, and she tasted of him.

Cross’s teeth nipped into her bottom lip before his lips pressed down over and over again to her jaw, throat, and across her collarbones. Catherine didn’t like being pawed over because that’s all guys seemed to want to do. Get their hands up her clothes, to push and prod without any real knowledge about what they were doing or any intention to make it feel good for her.

It hadn’t ever been about her.

Until now.

Cross’s hands pushed her shirt up higher, until it rested under her breasts. His thumbs swept under that same spot, over and over until she was squirming and swallowing the growing thickness in her throat. His mouth moved from her throat to her stomach. His tongue striking out against her naval at the sight of the barbell piercing he found there.

Catherine sucked in a sharp breath, because damn, she kept forgetting to breathe.

“Feel good?” he asked, his tone low and rough.