Always Crew
Chapter 14

BREN

I went dark last night.

Correction.

I went dark five hours ago. Same day.

I was lying in bed, not wanting to look at the time, and I could feel her. The old me. The firefly was there, too, on the sidelines, waiting to emerge to keep her company again.

I drew in a shuddering breath, feeling all that old numbness, and emptiness, and anger. So much anger. The old me hadn’t been healthy. She hadn’t been right.

I was not her. I could not go back to being her.

“Bren.” Cross moved in bed, sitting up. He moved over, leaning over me.

Take note, he did not ask me what was wrong. He did not ask me what I was thinking about. He did not ask any of those questions, because he knew and his soft sigh on my name told me so.

I closed my eyes.

I would not cry either.

They were damming up, ready to spill, but no. I would not let myself go there either.

“Bren.” Cross moved into me, his hand coming to my stomach. He held it there, waiting.

I drew in another gaping breath.

The ugly shit in me, the turmoil, it was back inside and breaking through all the barriers I’d erected.

I let her in when I moved on Harper.

“Cross,” I choked out.

“Oh, Bren.”

That was enough. I could see him watching me. His eyes held mine.

He was looking. He was judging. He was trying to read what I needed, and then his gaze darkened. Those eyes, they were smoldering, and my heart sped up in response. My body warmed. Trails of pleasure coursed through me, coating my insides.

It was working. Just the look, the promise, and he was pushing her back out.

The cold, the numbness, it was all fading. I was warming. I was feeling, and then I was throbbing.

“Babe,” he whispered, lying over me gently.

Everything about him was tender, careful.

His body was over mine, on mine, and he skimmed a hand up my side, under my shirt. He pushed it up, his hand closing over my breast at the same time his lips found mine.

A gentle k**s. Soft. Grazing.

He lit the fire. A soft nip. He came back. A longer graze.

Again.

And again.

Longer. Harder.

The fire was building, thawing me out, then inflaming me.

I gasped, and it felt as if I were gasping alive, and I sought him out. I needed him, needed more. Our mouths fused together. Harder. Demanding.

I moved my legs, wrapped them around his waist, and he g*****d, skimming his hand down my side, wrapping around one of my legs. He smoothed it back up, feeling me, pushing my sleeping shorts up. He moved them aside, and I felt him touching me there.

I needed him there.

I was aching now. Dripping.

He pushed in a finger, and my entire body arched up, clamping around him. My arms around his shoulders, his back. My legs moved higher around his waist, my ankles locking behind his back.

The k****s were more desperate. Rough.

My entire body was frenzied. I just needed more and more and more.

This wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. Touching him, feeling his weight on mine, his finger (now two) inside of me, thrusting, going deep. I wanted it harder, punishing even.

That’s what she deserved.

I allowed her to wake. I couldn’t let her wake, but Cross was loving me. He was reminding me, and he was pushing her back down. Every touch of his worked. Every k**s. Every caress. Every thrust of his fingers, and then I growled. I wanted him. Only him.

I grabbed for his boxers and I pushed at them, shoving them down, and he moved, lifting until they were gone. He reared up, his eyes dilated from his own need. My clothes were hauled off and then he was back. He was poised, and he slid inside, and we both gasped from the connection.

He and I. Cross and Bren.

All I needed. All I wanted.

And then, his hands cupping under my a*s, lifting me for him, he began to move.

The first time was rough, almost desperate.

The second time was slow, loving. Cross worshiped every inch of my body, taking me with his mouth first, and then moving inside of me after.

We heard footsteps outside during our third time, but we didn’t pause.

My alarm went off just as I was exploding, and Cross growled, hauling us both out of bed. He carried me, my legs around him, into the shower, and then he went to his knees for a fourth time for me. I tried reaching for him when he spun me around, pressing me into the shower tiles, but he knocked my hand aside.

I was lifted, poised, and he slid inside again.

We were both gasping as the water poured down on us, and afterwards, I couldn’t stand.

Cross eased me back down, but my legs gave up.

He caught me, holding me against the wall as he washed me. My hair. My body. He covered me with tender k****s, and when we were both cleaned, he carried me to the counter in the bathroom.

I was dried.

He wrapped a towel around my hair.

When he was done, he stepped back, his hands on both sides of me at the counter. A small, teasing smile lurked over his mouth. “You want me to dress you, too?”

I reached for him, everything in me feeling boneless, but content. Hella content. I was almost purring by now. I grabbed for his neck, but Cross waited for my response.

I shook my head. “But you can pull some clothes out and put them on the bed for me?”

He nodded, his eyes shuddering closed. He bent, one more k**s, and whispered against them, “I love you.”

I drank that in, inhaling him and his touch. “I love you, too.”

He pressed another k**s to the corner of my mouth before straightening, walking naked back out to the bedroom.

It was after I had dressed and was ready to head for Coug r Lanes that I realized the full effects of what Cross had done. He erased every moment of last night for me. There was no more darkness in me. He pushed it out, bringing in his love, his care, and with it was his goodness.

I went to work, going after the bad guys, and the old Bren was so far down, I didn’t feel her at all.