by M. S. Parker
Another squeeze to Cross leg.
“I’ll make the two of you a deal,” I said with a saccharine smile. “You find my sister, and I’ll answer every question you have about my sex life. And if there’s something you’d like to charge me with, we can address it then as well, all right?”
I stood and looked down at Cross to see him trying not to smile. He stood and took my hand.
“I believe she said all there is to say. I expect to hear from my PI that you’ve been in touch with him, and that you’re all playing nicely.”
“And if you don’t?” Detective McAllister leaned back in her chair. “Will you be throwing your weight around, making calls to our bosses and everyone else you play golf with?”
Cross smiled now, but it wasn’t a nice smile. I wouldn’t have wanted him smiling at me like that.
“Damn right I will.”
I didn’t say a word as the two of us walked out of the police station and back to the car. Once inside, Cross turned toward me. “They said the apartment was cleared.”
I nodded, unsure where he was going with this line of conversation.
“I can take you back there. You lock up, tell the building’s security to be on watch, you should be safe until the cops pick up Pant and Emmalyn.”
My stomach clenched. I didn’t want to go back to the apartment, and I definitely didn’t want to go back alone. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to push myself on him if he didn’t want me around.
“If that’s what you want,” I said quietly. “I’m sure you have a lot you need to do. What with taking most of the week off work...”
“Hanna,” he cut me off. “I want you with me.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “But if you want to go to the apartment, I’ll take you.” He gave me a real smile. “And if I stay or go, it’s up to you.”
“I’d like to go,” I said. When I saw a flicker cross his eyes, I added, “Because I’d like some of my own clothes.” I squeezed his hand. “Then I’d like to go back to your place, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” he said. He held my hand a few seconds longer, then turned so he could start the car.
We didn’t talk during the drive, or when he followed me upstairs to fill a bag with my own things. He just waited outside the bedroom door, then walked with me back to the car.
“Are you okay?” I asked after several more minutes of silence.
He started to nod, then shook his head. “I’m pissed,” he admitted. “Those detectives were out of line, asking you...”
I shrugged. “If they find my sister, I don’t really care what they ask me.” I cut him a sideways glance. “Unless you’d rather not have anyone know...”
“You think that’s what my problem is?” he asked sharply.
“I just meant that stuff like this is usually...private. And I could understand if you wouldn’t want people knowing that, when all this was going on, you and I...”
As we slid to a stop at a red light, he looked over at me. “Do you regret anything we did?”
I shook my head. I didn’t even need to consider the question. “I don’t.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “And I’m not ashamed of anything we’ve done. My problem with their line of questioning was that it had nothing to do with finding your sister. Detective McAllister had no right to ask you that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, then grinned, wanting to ease the tension. “Besides, I’d be happy to give her a play-by-play. It’d be worth it just to see the look on her face.”
He chuckled, and the knot inside me eased. Silence fell again, but it was a different sort, a nicer kind. When we got to his place, he carried my bag inside, just like he had at the cabin. Except this time, he didn’t ask me which room I wanted to stay in. And he didn’t automatically go to the guest room I’d used before. He stopped in front of a different door and turned to look at me.
“My room,” he said quietly. “Or you can have the same room as before.”
I took the couple steps needed to put me within reaching distance and put my hand on his chest. “Your room.”
He opened the door. “Do you want something to–?”
I pushed myself up on my toes and pressed my lips hard against his. “Right now, what I want...what I need, is to forget that I’m waiting to find out if my sister’s alive or dead.”
He wrapped one arm around my waist and walked us both backward into his bedroom. “I can do that.”
Chapter Eighteen
To say that Cross Phillips had stamina was an understatement to say the least. After I asked him to help me forget the reality of my life, he bent me over the bed, moving only the essential pieces of clothing needed, and took me fast, driving me into the sort of orgasm I’d never expected. Then we headed down to the kitchen where he made me a dinner that could only be called decadent.
That was three hours ago.
Since then, he’d given me a full-body massage, and eaten me out until I’d nearly been sobbing with overstimulation. Then we took a bath. Or rather, I did, and he washed me. I’d assumed that meant we were done...until he started cleaning somewhere extra thoroughly.
I gasped when his finger pressed against my anus, slicked with soap.
“Just breathe, baby,” he murmured. “It will burn a bit, but I’m going to make you feel so good.”
I looked up so that my eyes met his, and then I nodded. I forced myself to relax as he pushed his finger inside me. Air hissed from between my teeth. It did burn, and I knew the soap wasn’t helping any, but I trusted him to do as he promised.
After he dried me off, we headed back to the bedroom and he stretched me out on the bed, rolling me onto my stomach. I immediately tensed when he put his hands on my ass, but he simply kneaded his fingers into my flesh as he maneuvered my legs apart and settled between them.
“I’m assuming you’ve never done this before,” he spoke in a low voice, something almost soothing, hypnotic, about it.
I shook my head.
“Good,” he said. “Because I want to make this good for you, and if it’s done right, it will be.”
I was going to respond, but then his tongue was there, probing and slick, working over the sensitive ring of muscle until it had gone from feeling weird to good to something else entirely. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I wasn’t naïve. I knew that people enjoyed this sort of thing, but I’d never seen the appeal.
Then again, I’d also never expected to enjoy a man turning me over his knee and spanking me either.
When I started to push back against his tongue, he straightened and I heard the sound of something opening. I looked over my shoulder to see him holding a bottle. A warm, cinnamon scent filled the air.
“We’ll take it slow,” he said as he spread some oil on his hands.
And he did.
First one finger, burning far less with the warm, slick oil than it had with soap. It still felt strange, something moving in and out of a place where I’d never had anything before. Then he slid in a second finger and I gasped. I pressed my face against the pillow, fingers clenching the sheets. He worked the fingers into me, scissoring them to stretch me until I was writhing, squirming.
“Does that feel good?” He pressed his lips against the base of my spine. “You want another one? Hmm? Want a third finger to get you good and ready for my cock?”
“Yes,” I moaned the word even before my brain finished processing the question. I just knew that I wanted whatever he had to give me, because I knew whatever it was, it would make me feel good.
I whimpered as a third finger push its way into me. The muscles in my legs quivered, and he ran his hand down my spine. It settled at the top of my ass and he held me there as his fingers twisted inside me, igniting nerve endings I hadn’t known existed.
“Almost there, baby,” he said softly. “In a minute, I’m going to take out my fingers and put in my cock. I’m going to fuck your cherry ass nice and slow, see how long it takes you to come.”
&
nbsp; My eyelids fluttered even as I felt my hips moving, pushing back on his hand, wanting more, wanting to ride that edge of painful pleasure. Then it was gone and I was left feeling empty, needy.
I made a sound of protest that turned into something else as the head of his cock began to press forward.
“Relax, breathe.”
I kept repeating his words over and over even as my body wanted to protest the intrusion. It was the strangest sensation, uncomfortable and almost painful, but the intensity was pleasurable too, in a new, unique way.
For a few minutes, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand the overwhelming sensations flooding me. But then, they eased as Cross found a steady rhythm, allowing my brain to sort through things, to adjust. And I could move my hips, push back against him to get him deeper, closer.
He laid his body over mine, his chest against my back, and he slid his hands beneath me. One managed to get under my breast, fingers rubbing my nipple. The other went lower, finding my clit and pressing against it. My hips jerked and I cried out.
“Come for me, baby.” Cross mouth was against my ear.
I did. And then I came again even as Cross was emptying himself into my ass, his mouth on my shoulder, leaving another mark on my skin. I felt loose, like every limb in my body had been pulled apart and then put back together, just not as tight. I knew my body relaxed after an orgasm, but this was something different. As if the combination of everything we’d done today had somehow wrung every last bit of tension out of me.
I winced when he pulled out of me, but didn’t move as he climbed off of the bed. I could feel myself wanting to drift on the haze of orgasms and and good sex, and I didn’t try to stop it. I wanted to just lie there, hovering, without thoughts rushing through my head, without having to think or do, just be.
I didn’t move, not even when I felt a soft, damp cloth moving over my body, between my legs. I twitched when it touched the more sensitive parts of me, but didn’t say anything. Cross didn’t say anything either. When he came back, he just climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling the covers over us and tucking me back against his chest.
We drifted together then, neither of us saying anything for the longest time. I knew he wasn’t completely asleep, because his fingers kept gently combing through my hair, brushing against my temple. When he finally did speak, I wasn’t entirely surprised. I’d had a feeling there was something he’d had in the back of his head most of the day.
“They’re going to find your sister.”
“I know.” I knew he wasn’t done. That hadn’t been a statement of comfort, but rather an introduction into whatever he was thinking.
“When they do, we’ll have to decide where this is going.”
I nodded, glad I was facing away from him and he couldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes. “I know.”
“This past week with you wasn’t anything I’d planned,” he continued. “I thought I might have a bit of a challenge, something to make my life interesting, a break in the monotony.”
“Juliette,” I said, understanding what he meant.
“But then everything started to happen,” he continued. “And it wasn’t the right time to talk about where we wanted things to go. It still isn’t. But it will be. Soon.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice to stay steady. I didn’t want to have that talk, even though I knew we had to. When we were at the cabin, it was like we’d been in a little bubble, just the two of us. There’d been all of the same crazy stuff going on around us, but it hadn’t touched us there. Like the world around us had paused, or moved slower, giving us a pocket of time all our own.
But that wasn’t real. I’d needed the break from the real world, needed to have a place to hide for a bit. We were back, and once Juliette was found, things would have to go back to the way they had been. Work and life. A life that hadn’t included a relationship, or whatever the hell this was.
“Shh,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit maudlin at the moment. Go to sleep. You’re safe here. I’ve got you. We don’t need to worry about any of this just yet.”
I nodded again and worked on slowing my breathing. I didn’t want to fall asleep, not anymore. I wanted to savor the time I had with him because I knew there wasn’t much of it left. He’d admitted that he’d been grooming me, but I wasn’t an idiot. He was enjoying teaching me, but that didn’t mean he’d still want me when all the teaching was done. The best I could hope for was a few more weeks. Then he would move on. And so would I.
Except now, I wasn’t sure that I could.
I’d told myself I was going into this with my eyes open, that I’d known what it meant when I’d told him I wanted him to teach me, that I hadn’t expected more. But I hadn’t gotten it, hadn’t understood what it would mean to me to have to trust someone so completely. What it would feel like to have someone protect me, take care of me, the way Cross had.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but I was still awake long after I assumed Cross had fallen asleep. Then I heard him sigh, felt his arms tighten around me.
“What am I going to do with you?”
He was barely whispering, and I had to strain to make out the words. He thought I was asleep.
“You turned my whole fucking world upside-down, Hanna. I can’t ask you to stay with me, to be a part of a life full of scrutiny and jealousy. I can’t hope that...”
His voice trailed away, and I was afraid that he wouldn’t start again, that he wouldn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t. He said something else instead.
“I’ll protect you, sweetheart. Even from me.”
He didn’t speak again, and I finally felt him relax against me. He slept, and I knew, eventually I would too. I was too tired, physically and emotionally, to stay awake much longer. That had been the entire point of me asking him to help me forget. A deep and dreamless sleep.
I wanted to sleep, to not think about the way my life had changed so much in such a short period of time. I wanted the darkness. I wanted not to have to think about what Cross had said and what it meant.
I squeezed my eyes closed, let the tears that wanted to come slide down my cheeks. I didn’t cry, didn’t sob. I just let the saltwater soak into the pillow and waited to slip under.
When it finally came, I let the relief come with it, welcomed it. I didn’t know how long it would be until I felt anything good ever again.
Chapter Nineteen
At the cabin, Cross and I hadn’t actually slept together. We’d both dozed a bit after sex, but we’d always both woken up and gone back to our separate bedrooms. I’d slept well there, whether it’d been a nap in Cross’ arms or back in the guest bed. I hadn’t had a restful night last night, however. I’d slept deep, but was plagued with bad dreams.
Some were about Juliette. Getting a call from the detectives that they’d been too late, they’d found her body. Our parents blaming me for not having realized Emmalyn’s involvement earlier. Being arrested for being a bad sister and spending all of my time having sex instead of looking for Juliette. The cops finding Juliette alive, but her hating me for being with Cross.
I had ones about him too. Ones where he told me that I wasn’t enough for him, that I hadn’t been a fast enough learner. Ones where he chose Juliette over me, the two of them sharing a passionate kiss that I was pretty sure would’ve eventually turned into something else. The worst one was when he proposed, then abandoned me at the altar because I wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t entirely sure that they were separate dreams, any of them. They seemed to bleed, one into the next, until I wasn’t sure if I was really dreaming or if this was now my life. I tried to wake myself, but was too tired. Sometimes, I was aware of arms holding me, but I couldn’t dwell on them, couldn’t let myself remember where I really was.
It was the shower that finally woke me up. Perhaps I’d subconsciously felt or heard him getting out of bed, but it was the soothing sound of water that made me open my eyes. I was
alone in bed, but I’d known that as soon as I realized I was hearing a shower and not rain.
I rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. The room was still fairly dark, but the red lights on the clock on the other side of the bed said it was nearly nine in the morning. I ran my hands over my face. I needed a shower, and I definitely didn’t want to be in here when Cross came out. Even if he dressed in the bathroom, the intimacy of going in there after him, smelling his shampoo and soap, it’d be too much. I wasn’t quite coherent enough to deal with trying to pretend that I hadn’t heard what he’d said last night, and that conversation was definitely one to have after a couple cups of coffee.
I climbed out of bed, awkwardly aware that I was naked...and sporting several reminders of the sex marathon Cross and I’d had the previous day. Not to mention that my body throbbed with every step I took. No matter what happened between the two of us in the future, this past week was definitely going to be one of those that I’d look back on as an old woman.
I picked up the bag I’d brought from the apartment and carried it across the hall to the guest room where I’d woken up that first day. I turned the water to as hot as I could handle and stood under the spray with my eyes closed, not thinking about anything in particular. By the time I got out, my skin was pink and my head was as clear as I was going to get it.
I dressed in my favorite pair of jeans and shirt, wanting the comfort of familiar clothes on what was sure to be a strained day. I didn’t know what Cross and I were going to spend the day doing while we waited for an update from the detectives, but I wasn’t sure I could handle more sex at the moment. Physically, I was sore, but more, emotionally, I was drained. He said we didn’t need to talk yet, but I didn’t think I could deal with more sex without having that discussion.
I was on my way to the kitchen when my phone rang. I fumbled in my pocket for it, my pulse beginning to race when I saw the caller ID.
“Hello?” I hurried down the hall, not wanting to be alone if this was bad news.
“Miss Breckenridge? This is Detective Bison.”
