Heat hit my cheeks. Giggling and now blushing. It was as if I were drunk on the hormones in the air. I hooked my toes in the pockets of Crosby’s jeans that sat loosely on his hips. “Off.”
He grinned. “I live to serve.” In a flash, he was bare to me. I watched in fascination as he rolled the condom over himself. I’d always thought that action to be clumsy, awkward, but Crosby somehow made it sexy. The movement was smooth, self-assured, and my lower belly clenched with want.
He stepped forward, letting his fingers trail up my inner thighs, lighting nerve endings that all seemed to culminate at my core. A single finger trailed up my center.
“Crosby.” It was part reprimand, part plea.
“You want something, Brown Eyes?” He kept stroking, teasing. He seemed to be in no hurry. Yet no touch glanced over that bundle of nerves that would take me where I wanted to go.
“Stop messing around.”
Crosby chuckled. “I could do this all night. The feel of you, so smooth on my fingers. I like playing with you.”
I let out what almost sounded like a growl and circled my legs around his waist, trying to urge him forward. He grinned, leaning over me, his lips a breath away from mine, his tip bumping against my entrance. “Are you ready to feel?”
“Yes.” The word came out before I could even think about the wisdom of it. In one long stroke, he entered me.
My eyes watered at the feeling of fullness, of experiencing something other than the numbness that seemed to have invaded every cell of my being since Harriet’s funeral. “More.” This time, my word was a plea, a demand.
Crosby began moving, slowly at first and then picking up speed. Each glide drove me just a little bit higher, had me reaching for more—the pleasure, the bite of pain, anything that told me I was alive.
My hips rose to meet his, an instinctive dance that would only be ours. A rhythm unique to our bodies and our pleasure. With the smallest shift in our angles, Crosby was suddenly deeper. I felt him everywhere. Each time he hit that spot, sparks ricocheted throughout my body.
“Get there with me, Kenna.”
My name emerged in a growl from his mouth and drove me even higher. My muscles tightened and bunched as Crosby thrust. I strained and searched, calling for the thing I wanted most. A rough thumb stroked across the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. One single motion, scant millimeters of movement, and my world broke apart.
Nothing but sensation surrounded me. I wanted to live in this place forever and never leave. To always know how alive I could be.
Crosby arched, letting out a guttural sound as he came. He collapsed on the bed, rolling us so that I was on top of him. Our breathing matched as we gulped in air. My body still buzzed and tingled as if it were just regaining feeling after being frozen for hours. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to lose the moment.
Crosby’s heart beat against my cheek as he trailed fingers up and down my spine. “I knew you were hiding a hellcat under that smooth, composed surface.”
I froze. Muscles tensing and breath catching. Hellcat. What had I just done? I’d basically begged Crosby to have sex with me. Demanded that he hurry up with the job. What was wrong with me?
“Kenna? Are you okay?” There was nothing but concern in Crosby’s voice as he brushed damp hair away from my face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head.
“What is it?”
“That—that wasn’t me. I don’t—I’m not.”
The smile that split Crosby’s face made me want to punch him. “You’re allowed to do something that doesn’t fall into your ten-year plan. Live a little. You’d be surprised how fun life can be.”
I glowered at Crosby, pushing up and off him, ignoring the wince that wanted to surface at the loss of him. Crosby cursed.
“I live plenty. I like my life just the way it is. And part of that existence does not include sex with random men.”
Crosby sat up, a hint of anger flashing across his handsome features. “I’m not some random person. We’ve known each other for years. And there has always been something between us, a chemistry that burned below the surface. You’ve just been too scared to admit it. To face it.”
I bristled. “I am not scared. Not of you. Not of anything.” It was all lies. I was afraid all the time. Petrified. But I wasn’t going to let this man see it. No one got that piece of me.
“Oh, no?”
“No. In fact, I think we should keep doing this.”
Crosby froze. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “Doing what, exactly?”
“Having sex.” I did my best to keep my face neutral, but inside, I was screaming, what are you thinking? “Like you said, we obviously have good chemistry, why not keep this going? I’m not scared. Are you?”
Crosby grinned. “I’ll give you all the feelings you want, on two conditions.”
I pursed my lips. If Crosby and I kept this arrangement up, I just might kill the man. “And that would be?”
“First, you go on some adventures with me. You need to live a little, and not just in the bedroom.” At my scowl, he arched a brow. “No adventures, no orgasms.”
“Fine. But nothing that can get me killed.”
“Deal.”
“What else?”
Crosby smiled, but there was a hint of something just a little bit sad that tinged the expression. “This is all we’ll ever be. You can’t ask me for more.”
I rolled my eyes heavenward. “I think I can restrain myself.”
“Then I believe we have ourselves a deal.”
“Good. Then get out of my house. I need some sleep.”
The order was a mistake, because Crosby lunged, grabbing me around the waist and throwing me over his shoulder. “First, we need to shower. Gotta make sure you’re clean for bed.”
He did make sure. And every last inch of me thanked him for it.
13
Crosby
“All of this is for me?”
The disbelief in Zoe’s eyes nearly broke something in me. “It is.”
She blinked down at the pile of items in front of her. There were new clothes, coloring books, markers, stickers, and who knew what else. There was also a backpack and a nice, sturdy duffle bag in bright purple. Penny and her knitting club had outdone themselves, as always.
“I never get brand-new…” Zoe’s voice was soft, as if she were just speaking to herself.
“Well, you do now.”
“I don’t have to use the garbage bag anymore?”
I struggled to keep my expression gentle. So many kids in the foster system had nothing to move their belongings around in, and they were left with only a trash bag. I didn’t even want to think about what that did to a kid’s self-worth. “No garbage bag for you.”
“I love it. Thank you, Crosby.” Zoe struggled to meet my gaze but forced herself to do it. I was so damn proud of her in that moment. It was always like this the first few meetings, a bit of backsliding on the progress you’d made during the session before, but we’d find our way.
“You’re welcome, but it was actually my friend, Penny, and her knitting club that got it all for you.”