Always: A Legacy Novel (Cross + Catherine Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

  “I had a favorite to come for,” Cross said with a shrug, “but that didn’t work out.”

  “Too bad.”

  Cross’s gaze skipped to Catherine, who was watching him under lowered lashes, even if she was trying to act like her fingernails were more interesting. “Heard you were dealing, so I figured I should come say hi. Respect, and all.”

  Andino nodded. “As long as you’re not buying.”

  “Not my style, man.”

  “Good, good.” Cross found Catherine was watching him again, and Andino didn’t miss it. “So hey, race is about to start. I want to see the jump of it, since I was too busy working to check out the cars. You good, Catty?”

  Catherine’s green eyes moved between her cousin and Cross. “Yeah, Andi.”

  Cross took the seat Andino vacated as soon as the guy was gone. “You’re going to break your neck in those heels, babe.”

  She grinned. “Never.”

  “How’ve you been?”

  “Busy.”

  “I can see that,” Cross said.

  Catherine cocked a brow. “Is that why you came over?”

  “Entirely. Curiosity got the better of me when someone mentioned you were dealing with your cousin.”

  “Yeah, well.”

  She offered nothing else.

  Cross didn’t ask.

  “Then I saw you doing your thing,” Cross said, drawing each word out slowly.

  “And?”

  “And, nothing, Catty. It’s your game to play, you know? I can see why someone else might fall into the trap, sure.”

  Catherine scoffed. “But not you, right?”

  Cross smirked at her. “I think that’s part of your pull with them, babe. I’ve already been there with you. Whatever fun you’re trying to dangle for me, I’ve already had. It loses its appeal once you give it out, that’s all.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, and he immediately heard his mistake echoing back to him.

  “Ouch, Cross.”

  “You know I didn’t mean it like that, Catherine,” he said quieter.

  Her gaze avoided his entirely. “I don’t know you to say things you don’t mean, so—”

  “I meant what I said, but it didn’t mean what you thought. There’s a difference, babe. You’re a terribly pretty face, and when you use it to your advantage, guys go stupid. That’s the deal, though, see. They’re enjoying what they’re not getting because when they come to you for what they do want, they get to play a little game, too, even if they lose. Here’s the thing, Catty, they know they don’t have a chance with you, but they still play.”

  Cross leaned back into the vehicle, stretching out his legs and crossing his boots one over the other. “I don’t need to play any games where you’re concerned, and I never have. I never will. I’m only going to tell you what I want, and you’ll either agree, or you won’t. That’s me, that’s you—that’s us. You can’t fuck with me like you fuck with them; it’s not even close to the same.”

  “You’re so arrogant,” she huffed.

  “I’m also right, though, deny it.”

  She didn’t.

  Cross smiled.

  “I like the control,” Catherine admitted.

  “I bet.”

  “I don’t have any with you.”

  Wrong.

  She had too much.

  He didn’t tell her that.

  “But there’s always rules, and this, and that,” Catherine said, sighing. “It’s always something with Andino and John. So this is fun, and then I go home, and I’m bored again.”

  Cross frowned. “Rules like what?”

  Catherine kicked her wedge heels against the pavement. “Like I can’t be out of their sight, for one thing.”

  He waved around them. “Where’s Andino now?”

  “You’re here, Cross. That’s why.”

  “Mmhmm. Because he knew I didn’t make my way down here to talk to him, Catty. Not really.”

  She stared at him from the side under long lashes and a demure smile. Her expression said she was considering something, and then her next words made his dick hard in an instant. “Do you want to have some fun with me, Cross?”

  “That depends on the type of fun.”

  “I don’t want to be bored when I go home tonight. I want to be tired for once, not wide awake. I’m way up high like this, and then I can’t come down, and that’s not fun at all. So maybe I just want to do something different this time because we’re always fun like that, aren’t we?”

  “Someone,” Cross said. “Do someone, you mean.”

  “You,” she replied, “if you want to.”

  He still didn’t know how to tell this damn girl no.

  “This is not a good place for that, Catherine.”

  “The Cadillac has dark tint and a big back seat.”

  “The last time we fucked in a car, it all went to shit.”

  Understatement, asshole.

  Her gaze flashed with something he couldn’t understand, but it was gone just as fast. Then she kissed him hard enough to make him forget he even saw it to begin with. Her teeth bit into his bottom lip, and her fingernails scratched against the skin of his throat as she grabbed a handful of his hoodie.

  He was thinking with his cock again.

  It had really good ideas.

  “Backseat, right now,” Cross mumbled into Catherine’s grinning mouth. He fisted her dress and pulled her into his embrace at the same time he got up off the bumper, bringing her with him the whole time. “Fuck, right now, girl.”

  Catherine stumbled in her haste; he caught her easily. The back door opened fast under Cross’s grasp, and Catherine didn’t waste time climbing inside, nor did he when he jumped in behind her. All he saw was a flash of black thong and her sexy, tight ass and he couldn’t get that damn door closed fast enough.

  Cross was already shoving his jeans and boxer-briefs down around his hips, but he wasn’t wasting time taking the things off. He did shrug his leather jacket off, but not before he pulled the only condom he had out of the inner pocket.

  “I like you on your knees like that,” he said, coming up behind Catherine to shove her dress up around her back. That black thong snapped gently under a pull of his finger, and Catherine sighed. “It makes a nice view.”

  She laughed. “I’ll stay on them for you.”

  “You better.”

  Cross kissed the spot on her lower back, right above the swell of her ass, as he ripped open the condom packet and rolled latex down his hard length. “I’m not playing—I just wanna fuck.”

  “Then stop talking, and start doing that, Cross.”

  All right.

  He slid her thong aside with his fingers, and then he was sliding in. All the way into heaven. A hot, wet heaven.

  Catherine’s top half fell into the seat with a shiver. Cross grabbed her hips and pulled her body in for more. Because she could fucking take it, all of it, and he knew she liked it, too.

  “Yeah, it’s been way too long,” he groaned.

  “Still so good.”

  Her voice was all air and sex.

  He liked the way she smelled like sin and cherries when he sucked it in.

  “So good,” he agreed.

  The frantic beat of Cross’s heart matched the pace of his thrusts. Even holding onto her hips did little because Catherine just kept pushing back into him anyway. She gave as good as she got, and it drove him nuts.

  Because he always wanted more.

  With her, that want came easy.

  It was bad for him.

  She was bad for him.

  But he could make this just sex, and it didn’t have to matter at all.

  That’s what she wanted.

  He could do that.

  He felt high as hell between her thighs, wanting deeper with every thrust, and finding she was so damn tight around him it was ridiculous. Crazy. Stupid. Delirious. His fingers pressed deeper into her hips, leaving beautiful pink prints behind and making h
er sigh when she backed into him again.

  Catherine was always sweeter and prettier with a dress shoved up so she could be fucked, her ass high, panties pushed aside, and him inside her. His cock, fingers, or his tongue. He didn’t care, she just looked perfect like that.

  “I wanna come,” she whined against the seat, “I wanna come.”

  He kind of loved that, too. How her words slurred, and her inhibitions left. How she didn’t care what she sounded like, or how she looked, as long as she felt good.

  And damn, she felt good.

  “Give it to me, then,” he demanded.

  Cross let go of her hips to pull her up, one of his hands sliding around her throat to grab a handful of her sweet neck and the necklace she wore. His other hand drifted into her hair, pushing the messy waves out of her face so he could kiss her cheek, and bite the corner of her mouth.

  Wild eyes blinked back at him.

  Trembling lips parted when he kissed them.

  “Aren’t you going to give it to me, Catty?”

  God, she did.

  Hard, shaking, crying out, and scoring lines over his hand on her throat all at the same time. Sweet sixteen, and oh, so pretty like this, he thought.

  Catherine hadn’t even finished panting her way through her orgasm before he came, too, emptying into latex while her muscles sucked him dry. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Yeah,” Catherine mumbled, her cheek still pressed to his lips.

  Cross needed to breathe.

  He pulled out and away from her, if only because the longer he stayed like that, the better it felt. He wasn’t dealing with those feelings and that bullshit tonight. Catherine rolled from her knees to her backside, and leaned into the seat.

  “I need a fucking napkin or something,” Cross said.

  Catherine tossed her bag at him that had been lying on the floor. “In there.”

  Cross found a pack of tissues in the Prada bag, and got rid of the damned condom by stuffing it into his pocket after it was wrapped up. He’d toss it later. Once he was tucked back in, and zipped up, he looked to her.

  “You good?” Cross asked.

  Catherine stretched her arms high, and then fixed her thong and dress. “A little wetter than I should be, but hey.”

  He laughed. “That’s not a bad thing.”

  “I’m aware.” She side-eyed him. “This is a one-time thing, though. I’m not the hookup kind of girl, Cross.”

  That was on her.

  He wasn’t offering anything else.

  He wasn’t ready.

  She did that, too.

  “Call me if that changes,” he said, reaching for the backdoor.

  “For you, it might,” she murmured. “Still friends?”

  Cross swallowed hard, and pushed the door open. “Yeah, definitely friends.”

  Now.

  He stepped out of the back of the SUV just as he shrugged his leather jacket back on overtop his hoodie. He ignored the way the ground felt weak under his Doc Martens—fucking Catherine always left him a little stupid in the head.

  Two cars down, Andino’s gaze caught Cross’s, though he was in conversation with someone else. Cross figured he should probably apologize, given the Cadillac was Andino’s to begin with. Whatever conversation Andino was having couldn’t be too important because he dropped it without warning and came Cross’s way.

  “Sorry,” Cross said.

  He didn’t sound very apologetic.

  Andino smirked. “Didn’t see a thing, man.”

  Well, then …

  “I owe you one.”

  “I will cash it in someday, Cross.”

  Yeah.

  Marcellos always did.

  “Since when did you start dating Derik again?” Liliana asked.

  Catherine made a face, and sipped from the wine in her red solo cup. “Since school started, but we’re not really dating. We’ve gone out like twice in three weeks.”

  “Okay, then why?” Her cousin gave the footballer in question a look from across the room, but Derik didn’t notice. “Because I remember you telling me he was a jerk, and he is.”

  “And a pig,” Catherine agreed.

  Those details hadn’t really changed much.

  Derik was slightly better, but mostly, he was a way out of her house on weekends without one of her older cousins demanding they follow behind. Catherine didn’t regret her choice to start dealing with Andino, and under John’s direction, she simply wished they gave her a bit more leeway. Michel had been able to do whatever in the hell he wanted, with no watchers.

  Catherine wasn’t given that benefit at all.

  Except when she went out with Derik.

  Her parents never seemed to question when she went out with her cousins, though. Usually just Andino. Sometimes Catherine didn’t tell them where or with whom she was going at all. She still wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to continue dealing, or if she wanted to let her parents in on what she was doing.

  She didn’t see them being happy about it.

  Or proud.

  But it was fun. She had control, more than she ever did before. She also was wanted, but by her choice, and entirely unobtainable, also by her choice. Like a game. That was addicting.

  The whole thing was addicting.

  “I’m going to tell him to screw off soon,” Catherine said.

  Liliana hid her smile in a cup of her own. “Shame.”

  “Right?” Catherine rolled her eyes, adding, “I was talking to someone in the hall the other day, and Derik had a fit about it. It’s the same shit like before when we did actually date. I’m a possession in his pocket, or something. I’m over it.”

  “That someone you were talking to wouldn’t happen to be Cross Donati, was it?”

  Catherine wet her lips. “So what if it was?”

  “Okay, so Derik is a complete asshole, and how he ever gets laid by any girl who knows him, I will never understand. But …”

  Why did there always have to be something else?

  “But, what?”

  “Like, I’ve been around you when Cross comes over to talk or whatever,” Liliana said, “and it’s not a friendly kind of chat, Catty.”

  “We are friends, though. Just friends.”

  Who occasionally fucked when they met up at parties, or out somewhere, and neither of them were with other people. But they were just friends.

  “He calls you babe,” Liliana pointed out.

  Catherine shrugged. “So?”

  “Cross literally has a flock of girls that chase him around. They might as well just keep their panties pulled down and their legs spread. He has never called any of them his babe, sweetheart, or any of the other things he calls you. At least, not that I’ve heard. And he hugs you.”

  “Again, so?”

  “Catherine, I’ve seen him bite one of his guy friend’s head off for giving him a smack on the shoulder. He doesn’t like to be touched by people, unless he invites it. He lets you grab his arm, I’ve seen you tap his cheek when he wasn’t looking at you, and he hugs you, like I said.” Liliana sighed. “He also talks just to you. No one else when he’s talking to you. He doesn’t talk like friends do with you, okay. It’s … I don’t know, like closer? No, like, intimate. Yeah, like that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Cross was just Cross. Catherine was just Catherine. That’s how they were. She couldn’t help that, and she didn’t see anything wrong with it. They were just friends.

  “You’re seeing things that aren’t there. Get Aunt Jordyn or Uncle Lucian to get your eyes checked.”

  “You know what, you can’t be helped,” Liliana said, flicking her wrist at Catherine with attitude. “Don’t say I didn’t try, though.”

  “We’re just friends!”

  “I bet you do way more with Cross when you’re just friends than you do with Derik while you’re kind of, sort of going out.” Liliana tipped her drink in Catherine’s direction, adding, “And if you deny that, you’re a
goddamn liar. Marcellos don’t lie, Catty.”

  “You know what, shut up.”

  “Ow, my heart.” Liliana put a hand over her chest, and grinned. “I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

  Yeah.

  Technically.

  “Drop it; Derik’s coming this way,” Catherine muttered.

  Liliana cringed. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

  “Call me tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” her cousin agreed.

  Derik slid in beside Catherine, and snatched her red solo cup out of her hand, only to replace it with a new drink. His glazed eyes said he had already sipped on too much, and she would likely be driving him home.

  “Fresh one for you,” he said, nodded at her cup.

  His hand pushed the sandy blond hair out of his gaze, and he surveyed the room. Catherine was acutely aware of how different Cross and Derik were in moments like these. Derik’s attention went to only one thing, while Cross always kept at least part of his attention on her. Derik was light, with his blue eyes and blond hair. Cross was dark, from his gaze to his hair, to his fucking personality.

  Entirely different.

  Catherine downed half the cup in a single drink.

  “Slow down,” Derik joked.

  “We should probably head out of here soon.”

  “Yeah, soon, Catty.”

  Catherine hid her disgust by glancing away. “Don’t call me that, Derik.”

  “Everyone else does.”

  “No, my family does, and it’s a name I use when I’m working with my cousins. That’s it.”

  “And Cross,” Derik challenged. “He uses it.”

  “Well, he gave it to me, so he can use it if he wants.”

  But not you.

  Derik chuckled. “Whatever, drink up.”

  If it meant she was going to get home sooner, she’d drink five more cups.

  Catherine turned to set the red solo cup to the counter behind her, and was surprised at how the room tilted on its axis at the same time. “Whoa.”

  “You all right?” Derik asked.

  “I think I drank too much, maybe.” Catherine thought about her bag at her feet. “I’m going to call my dad.”

  Dante would pick her up, no questions asked. It was his rule. As long as she didn’t drive drunk, and didn’t allow someone who was drunk to drive her. He would pick her up anywhere, and she would never be punished for calling and asking for help.