Revere: A Legacy Novel (Cross + Catherine Book 2)

by Bethany-Kris

He’d been warned, after all.

  Whatever.

  “Catty,” he murmured.

  “Hey.”

  “This is a surprise. Your phone doesn’t work, or what?”

  She shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “Oh?”

  “Not really. I just … got bored.”

  “Bored,” he echoed.

  “Maybe I figured some things out.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I took a few days to be alone, think some things through, and here I am.”

  “Here you are,” Cross countered with a grin. “My mother says hello.”

  “I miss Emma. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to her.” Catherine leaned up on tiptoes in her black heels and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “You don’t mind that I’m here?”

  “Don’t leave before I wake up this time.”

  “You going to make me breakfast?”

  “I’ll eat you for breakfast.”

  Catherine winked. “Deal.”

  “Mmm,” Catherine moaned. “Fuck, yeah.”

  Cross’s nose nuzzled behind her ear, and then his teeth nipped into the lobe. She could smell him all around her. His body, his sheets, and God, all of him. She could taste him on her tongue. Man, sex, salt, and lust.

  “Had enough yet?” he asked in her ear.

  There was a huskiness in his words. A sexy drawl to his tone dipping it lower.

  “No,” Catherine said in a breathless laugh. “Never.”

  Cross was tucked into her back while she laid on her side. He’d hooked her leg over his thigh as he fucked her from behind. His one hand caged her wrists in above her head, while his other toyed with her clit.

  Jesus Christ, she was almost numb.

  So full, so fucked, and so blissed.

  Airless. High. Insane.

  It was wonderful.

  He used his fingers first. Then, his mouth. His cock.

  Now, all.

  “Some might consider this torture, Catty,” he murmured.

  His teeth, tongue, and lips teased the back of her neck. Sucking. Licking. Bite marks. Fuck, she loved his bite marks.

  She’d already came eight times.

  He was working on nine.

  He was trying to make her lose.

  Say she couldn’t.

  Give up.

  Never.

  Catherine didn’t know it was possible to actually orgasm that many times. Sure, it took a bit. Longer each time. The orgasms shortened and weakened. Sometimes they hurt. She loved it like nothing else.

  “Almost, almost,” she breathed.

  Cross’s dark laughter sent her spinning. His fingers went from circling her clit to a sharp pinch as his teeth bit the cord of muscles on her neck. A hard, brutal thrust answered those moves of his, and she came harder than ever.

  The cry that escaped her lips was so broken, and so lovely.

  “Yeah, give that to me, babe. Soak my fucking sheets, huh?”

  His rhythm slowed as she trembled her way through an orgasm that damn near blinded her. She was so fucking wet between her thighs that it was ridiculous. Sticky and hot and sweaty.

  It was the best way to spend a morning.

  It was decided.

  End of story.

  Cross’s fingers sped up between her thighs as she gasped a tired cry. Suddenly, she was far too sensitive, and she needed to breathe.

  “You’re going to kill me,” she told him.

  “Not like this,” he promised.

  Catherine felt the loss of him between her thighs at the same time he turned her over. Her eyes widened when his hands finally let her go just to drag down her sweat-slicked back.

  “One more time,” he told her.

  “I don’t think I can,” she admitted. “I can’t even think.”

  “Good.”

  Cross leaned over her to pull something from out of the nightstand. A small bottle—lube, she thought. Her body was so hot that the cool dribble of lubrication sliding down along her ass was a shock.

  “Shh,” he soothed.

  Already leaning over her, his voice was in her ear again.

  Promising.

  Demanding.

  Wanting.

  And Catherine thought … even loving.

  “I promised you something with this, didn’t I?” he said as two of his fingers worked their way into her ass. Slow and steady strokes that eased her clenching muscles and felt oh, so fucking good. “I want you coming on my cock when it’s deep in your ass, Catty. Don’t you want that?”

  Nerves bubbled though her blood. A third finger in her ass made her burn and throb at the same time. The sting was quickly replaced by something far better. A deep ache that didn’t hurt, but made her want to beg.

  “Come on, Catty,” Cross said, his lips ghosting along the top of her spine, “use words for me.”

  The only thing that managed to come out of her mouth was a quiet, “Please, please, please.”

  “Hmm?”

  Her nerves were already overworked. Her body was tired despite sleeping all night better than she had in years. She didn’t even think she could get close to an orgasm again.

  She still wanted him to try.

  Especially like that.

  “Please, Cross,” Catherine whispered.

  “Catty …”

  “Fuck my ass, please.”

  “Jesus, you sound so good when you’re begging like that, babe. Remember this the next time you want to wake me up by sucking my dick. It’s not nice to make a man come before he even gets his eyes open. It’s called dignity.”

  She was paying for that trick, too.

  “You’re just giving me reason to do it again,” Catherine warned.

  Cross chuckled. “So be it.”

  His fingers left her ass, and she felt that ache grow larger almost instantly. Being filled and stretched open there was a whole new sensation—something wicked and wonderful. He didn’t leave her wanting for long, though.

  Cross’s cock was at her ass before she had even taken a breath. Thicker, and longer, that good ache turned harsh in a blink as he worked his cock through the tight ring of muscles. One of his hands traced the line of her spine, and his other spread her ass cheeks.

  “Shit, are you going to relax for me, Catty, or what?”

  “I …” she failed to form words.

  Cross still found his. “Let me make this good for you, babe. Breathe.”

  She did.

  Her nerves sung. Her body heated all over again. He was slow and soft until she could feel his groin pressed tight to the curve of her ass.

  Cross’s hands drifted over her skin again, but only to reach up and tangle in her hair. He tugged, making her head tip back while she licked her lips. “You good?”

  “So good,” she promised.

  He pulled back until just the tip of his cock was inside of her, and then he slammed back in.

  Catherine begged again.

  He fucked her crazy.

  She made it to ten before he painted her back with cum.

  “That looks good,” Cross murmured over Catherine’s shoulder.

  His face nuzzled the back of her neck while his hand grabbed tight to the curve in her waist. She tried to keep her attention on the two omelets she was cooking on the stove. She dragged the spatula along the edge of both pans to keep the egg, cheese, and vegetable mixture from sticking.

  “Smells good, too,” he added.

  “It’s almost done.”

  “I’m starved.”

  She laughed under her breath. “After your little game this morning, I bet.”

  “You started that.”

  “And you finished it, so.”

  She felt his pleased grin form against her skin. “Well, fucking yeah.”

  “Arrogant.”

  “Goddamn right.”

  Cross kissed her cheek and winked, then grabbed the cup of coffee from the counter she had made for him. Sipping on
it, he turned his back to the counter, and watched her in that way of his. A way that said he had something on his mind.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Mmm.” Catherine nodded to the side. “I forgot last night, but there was something taped to your door when I got here. I shoved it in my bag.”

  Cross reached over and dug through Catherine’s Gucci purse until he pulled out a white envelope. Waving it, he asked, “This?”

  “Yep.”

  “You look inside?”

  “It’s still sealed, isn’t it?”

  Cross shrugged and ripped open the envelope. Tipping it to the side, a stack of bills fell into his waiting hand. He tossed the ruined paper aside and counted the bills. “Three thousand will do it, I guess.”

  Catherine gave him a look. “What’s it for?”

  He flashed a note that had also been inside. It simply read, For the taillight. “One of your father’s men made a show a week back. Busted my Porsche’s taillight out. Actually, it was a few of them. Only one did the damage. I just let them know unless they wanted something of theirs to meet a worse fate, I expected repayment.”

  She frowned. “Really?”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Isn’t it?” Catherine turned off the stove, and pulled the two pans off hot burners and onto cold ones. Then, she turned to Cross. “This was all after the restaurant thing?”

  “So?”

  “Has anything else happened?”

  Cross looked away. “Some nonsense, I suppose. Following me. People showing up at businesses I frequent. Phone calls. Nothing that bothers me too much.”

  “And what’s been said?” she pressed.

  “Catty.”

  “Cross.”

  She already knew his answer before he said it. “I’ve been told to keep away from you, for the most part.”

  “Except you let me in last night.”

  “Because I don’t give a fuck what somebody tries to do to me,” Cross said with a smirk. “I’m not easily scared. After what your father already did to me once, the only thing he can really do now is kill me.”

  Catherine felt her cheeks drain of color.

  Cross stepped closer, and set his cup aside. Reaching for her, he cupped her cheek, and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Hey, I was joking, babe.”

  “Were you?”

  “Mostly.” Cross shrugged, adding, “He’s trying to intimidate me, and it’s not working. This is about me and you figuring shit out. Not him.”

  Catherine looked up at him. “What if it gets worse?”

  “I don’t think it will.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Dante loves you.”

  “So?” Catherine asked.

  Cross waved a hand between them. “And here you are with me not locked down somewhere else.”

  Oh.

  “I did wonder, though, when I saw you here last night,” he said.

  Catherine didn’t understand. “Wonder what?”

  “What you were doing, I guess. Was it some stunt you were pulling on him? Rebellion, maybe? I considered it for a moment.”

  “But you didn’t ask,” she said.

  “I didn’t really need to,” Cross replied with a grin. “You don’t play games with me, Catherine. You never have. Your father won’t be the one you decide to start with where I’m concerned.”

  He was right.

  She was there because she wanted to be. It felt right. Nothing else mattered.

  “Did you ever think to contact me, or try?” Catherine asked. “Anytime at all during these past seven years?”

  Cross nodded as he picked up his cup. “Sure, but I never did.”

  “Obviously. Why not?”

  “One year turned into two, and then I was looking down six years before I blinked. I thought … she doesn’t even know you exist anymore, so let her live.”

  Catherine’s gaze darted to his, and she found truth there.

  It still scared her a little.

  “How could I not know you existed, Cross? You were the one who made me live.”

  He smiled, but said nothing. Draining his cup, he set it in the sink before pulling dishes from the cupboard. He helped her to set the omelets onto plates.

  Cross reached up to slide two fingers under her chin as she set the cooling pans into the sink. “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  Love stared back.

  She wasn’t quite so scared of that. Only when she thought it might hurt again.

  “Say something,” she whispered.

  “I’m always going to love you, Catherine. You know that, right? I always have.”

  “I’m scared you’re going to break my heart again, Cross.”

  “Are you going to let me prove that I won’t?”

  “Uncle Giovanni,” Catherine greeted.

  Her uncle lifted a hand in hello, but didn’t end the conversation he was having on his phone. “Andino, son, call your mother. Stop being difficult. I am not playing peacemaker between the two of you, and that’s the end of it.”

  Cross shot Catherine an amused look as they neared her car. She had parked it in one of the visitor stalls in the underground garage the night before. Her uncle had been leaning against the driver’s door when they came into the garage.

  Giovanni hung up the phone, and turned his attention on Catherine and Cross. “Morning.”

  Cross only nodded in response, but pressed his hand to Catherine’s lower back. “Give me a call, huh?”

  “I will,” she promised.

  He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, and then turned to leave.

  “Tell your father I said hello, Cross,” Giovanni said. “It’s been too long since he and I have had a proper conversation.”

  For reasons Catherine didn’t understand, Cross hesitated in his steps. He looked over his shoulder at her uncle with a curious gaze.

  “Calisto, you mean,” he said.

  “Your father, yes.”

  “My step-father,” Cross returned. “Everyone likes to remind me that he isn’t my real father.”

  Giovanni shrugged. “Sì, well, that is them. I would never hurt my friend with that lie. As I said, tell your father I said hello.”

  “I’ll do that, thanks.”

  Cross headed two rows over in the underground garage to his Rover. Catherine waited until he pulled out of the space before turning back to her uncle.

  “That was a strange conversation,” she said. “If you could call it that.”

  To say the least.

  Giovanni smiled faintly. “Not so strange, Catherine, considering.”

  “Considering what?”

  “That, reginella, is a story for another day. Every man has his secrets. A few of us are lucky to know them, and so we choose to keep them safe.”

  What?

  “You know what, never mind,” Catherine said.

  Her uncle was acting too strange for her to even bother.

  “Do you remember when you were about, oh, fifteen or so? Your mother and father took Michel to Detroit to check out apartments for when he moved out that following summer.”

  Catherine stiffened on the spot. “What about it?”

  “You had the house to yourself that weekend. No babysitters inside.”

  “Uncle Gio—”

  “I came over to check on you, and there was flour all over the kitchen,” her uncle continued as though she hadn’t spoken at all. “You said some crap about a bug or whatever. I knew it was bullshit from the first word out of your mouth.”

  Catherine could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “So?”

  “You do realize there were footprints in the flour, right?”

  “Oh, my God.”

  Giovanni nodded to himself. “Two sets. One very obviously smaller, and yours. The other larger, and I thought, likely—”

  “Yes, Cross was there,” Catherine muttered.

  Her uncle chuckled under his breath. �
��I thought so.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything, then?”

  He shrugged. “I figured I had probably scared the shit out of the kid enough.”

  Catherine laughed. “Not nearly enough, though. He stayed all weekend.”

  “They did say Cross was always … fearless. You don’t seem all that surprised to see me here,” Giovanni said.

  He stepped away from her Lexus as she pulled the fob out of her bag to unlock it.

  “Not at all, Uncle Gio.”

  “Neither did Cross, really.”

  “Nope,” she said.

  “Apparently, I rolled my ass out of bed before ten for nothing,” Giovanni grumbled.

  Catherine side-eyed him. “Daddy sent you over?”

  “How did you know?”

  Her uncle sounded both amused and sarcastic at the same time. It was one of the reasons everyone—young and old—in their family adored Giovanni. Though he aged, he still behaved far younger than his years. He did not take anything too seriously. And he was always the first to bend rules simply to make things fun for everyone else, including himself.

  “Well, to start,” Catherine said, “I know what he’s been doing.”

  “Oh, do tell. Amuse me.”

  “Having Cross followed. Allowing his men to make public scenes. I think we would call that intimidating him. Although, frankly, he’s just pissing Cross off. Someone needs to tell Daddy that this is all pointless. I told him what I told him, and I meant it.”

  “Yes, I think he said that you were going to do what you wanted to do, and he could fuck off.”

  “I did not use those words.”

  Giovanni smirked. “I colored them up, Catty. Life is better when you color shit up.”

  She laughed. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. Remember it. It’s good advice.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “However, knowing that there’s been some tension on the streets doesn’t tell me why you weren’t surprised to see me here.”

  “You know what, no, that’s a lie. I am kind of surprised.”

  Giovanni’s brow raised. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I mean, if he was going to send one of my uncles, he should have sent Uncle Lucian. At least he can be mean when he wants to be. You’re kind of a—”

  “Watch it,” Giovanni murmured darkly.

  Catherine grinned. “A sweetheart, zio.”

  “I’ll … accept that, as long as you never repeat it outside of us.”