Page 20 of Crew Princess
Spreading.
I was close.
More dipping in, sliding out, thrusting, holding—his thumb pressed down on my clit, and I began to come apart.
A guttural moan left me, but I bit down harder on my lip. My eyes flew open; I needed to see Cross. He stared at me hard, fierce. His eyes gleamed with his own repressed need, and as if he couldn’t help himself, his head dipped down, his mouth firm on mine. I opened and his tongue swept in, commanding, and he finished me. Sensations ripped through me, almost before I was ready, and I trembled in the aftermath. The climax took something out of me.
I sank down against the truck bed, but Cross’ tongue swept against mine, gentling the aftermath until I was a puddle.
I moaned, cupping his cheek.
When I nodded to say I was okay, he moved to hold me again. His chin tucked into my neck, and we stayed like that the rest of the drive. I felt him; he had swelled up against his jeans, and I knew he needed release too. Once we were home, I would take care of him.
His eyes caught mine, and he smiled. He leaned in. “I’m never going to leave you. Know that.”
Emotion clogged my throat, but I just squeezed his hand and rested my head on his chest.
Home. I just needed to get home.
A note was taped to my door when we got home—not the main door, my bedroom door. The lights were off, Channing’s bedroom door was open, and no one was inside, so I wasn’t too surprised. I took the note off and read it aloud, “No fucking. Stay home. Shit went down tonight, and I want you safe.”
Cross read it over my shoulder, a light chuckle warming my shoulder. “That’s cute. Treating us like we’re normal teenagers.”
He swept past me, going into the room and dropping his bag on the floor. He touched my arm, his finger sliding down as he passed me on the way back out to the kitchen. “I’m hungry. You?”
“No.”
After a moment, he opened the fridge, and I heard him rummaging around. As he moved around the kitchen, I read the note again. Channing knew about the Academy Crusties. One of his crew found them, so either Channing was at the station doing what he could to keep peace between the towns or he was at work. Oh hell. I didn’t know where he was. There was a handful of places he could be, so I just pulled my phone out.
I heard loud sounds behind him when he answered, “Tell me you’re home. You’re both home.”
“We’re home.”
“You and Cross?”
There was shouting behind him. I couldn’t make out the words.
I frowned. “Where are you?”
“What?!” his voice came through loud.
I’d started to repeat myself when he spoke over me, still just as loud, “Yeah. I know. I’m talking to my sister. Give me a minute.” He came back to me, “Give me a second.” A moment later, the shouting faded, and I heard a door shut. “I’m at the warehouse.”
The warehouse was technically his—a building set on a bunch of acreage outside of Roussou—but his crew used it to hang out.
“Why are you there?”
“Because some fucking high school idiots tried to burn your school today, and I know how this shit starts,” he griped. “I was a part of it in my day, and I don’t want bloody streets, people saying they’re going to rape somebody, and exploding fucking cars, which I’m just now hearing happened at the District Weekend bonfire.” He stopped, breathing hard. “Was that you guys?”
Cross came out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall as he folded his arms over his chest. I didn’t even need to put Channing on speaker. I knew Cross could hear him plain as day.
I didn’t answer.
“Bren!”
I locked eyes with Cross, but he just stared back. I knew we were feeling the same resignation. This was another day in our lives.
“What do you want me to say?”
