Catherine leaned in the doorway of the music room. Large bay windows overlooked the private back property. The Baby Grand piano sat in the very middle. A collection of guitars rested along one entire wall. Framed, collectable music compositions hung in a haphazard fashion above the guitars. Posters of long dead musicians rested safely in large frames where little hands could not reach.
Out of every room in their house, Catherine figured this was the one that Cross liked the most. More so than even his private office, or their bedroom. When their house was finally finished with renovations, he had little interest in picking things out to decorate. Unlike her, he didn’t have a vision for every single room.
Cross basically let her have full run of the place.
Except this room.
His music room.
In one of the two leather bucket chairs facing the bay windows, Cross sat staring blankly over the backyard. His one arm hung over the edge of the chair. His other rested on the arm, while he stroked his jaw with his hand. Still dressed in the sleep pants he had tossed on the night before when he climbed into bed with her, his torso was naked.
She didn’t miss how the longer bit of black hair on top of his head was messier than usual. As though he had been running his fingers through it.
Cross was like most men in the way that sometimes, he just needed his own time and space away from everyone and everything else. Actually, Catherine thought he had always been like that because he was far more introverted than he allowed people to think.
His alone time was sacred.
She hated to interrupt it.
Cross already knew she was there, apparently.
“Are you going to come in, or …?”
Catherine smiled. “I brought you coffee.”
He glanced over at her, his dark eyes drinking her in. The silk robe she had cinched to her waist fell to mid-thigh. She was only wearing it because the cotton panties and bralette underneath weren’t exactly appropriate for her to walk around in should visitors show up or something.
Not to mention, Cece.
“I smelled it,” Cross told her with a chuckle. “That’s how I knew you were there.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, babe. Come here.”
Catherine sipped from her mug of decaf coffee as she crossed the space. Easily, Cross slipped his still steaming cup from her hands, and tasted the bitter drink.
She was a cream and sugar kind of girl.
He was a black with a whisper of sweet kind of man.
“It’s good,” he murmured. His lips still touched the rim of the mug. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Cross’s gaze drifted to the large, ornate brass clock on the wall, noting the time. “It’s a bit early for you to be up, isn’t it?”
“Something is bouncing on my bladder again.”
Wordlessly, Cross’s hand lifted from the arm of the chair, and came to rest on Catherine’s still flat stomach. If her pregnancy this time around was anything like Cece’s had been, she probably wouldn’t start showing until she was around twenty weeks or more. And even then, the small bump was easily hidden with the right dresses or blouses.
Cross seemed to read her mind. “What are you thinking this time, babe? That you’re going to work right up until you can’t keep it a secret anymore?”
“It’s only unsafe when it’s noticeable,” Catherine replied.
“I guess you’ll be able to get everything in order, anyway.”
“That’s the plan for now.”
His hand slid between the flaps of the silk robe. He only stopped once his palm was flat against her warm stomach. His thumb stroked back and forth in a rhythmic fashion. It was enough to make what was left of Catherine’s worries drift away for the moment.
“Love you, Catty,” he told her, never looking away from the windows.
“Love you, Cross.”
His hand snuck around her waist, and then to her back. His fingertips pressed into her skin as he held tight to keep her in place.
“When I got up, you weren’t in bed, so I thought I would come look for you,” she said.
Cross smiled faintly. “Found me.”
“I did.” Leaning down, Catherine kissed the corner of his mouth before standing straight once more. “What are you doing down here this early, anyway?”
“Thinking about some things.”
“When did you wake up?”
“Didn’t sleep,” he admitted.
Catherine stiffened. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s just business and issues, Catherine.”
“Yeah, I’ve got those, too.”
“We don’t talk about it,” Cross said, looking up at her with a grin.
“No, we don’t step on each other’s toes, Cross. Discussing things isn’t exactly the same as trying to push our opinions or presence on the other. Right?”
“Mmm.”
“What was that?” she asked.
He laughed huskily. “Right, babe.”
Cross snatched the cup from Catherine’s hand, and set it to the small table between the bucket chairs. Without warning, the hand at her back pressed hard, pushing her forward. He caught her easily, and before she knew it, Catherine was on her back in Cross’s lap, and looking up at him.
He winked.
“Are you trying to give me motion sickness?”
“Is that a thing this time around?” he asked.
“I don’t want to test it out and see.”
“Fair enough.”
She resituated herself in his lap, so that her legs were tossed over the arm of the chair, and her head rested on Cross’s chest. It was far more comfortable, and she was able to stare out the windows, too.
Cross’s fingers drifted through her hair as he spoke. “You want to go first, or me?”
“You.”
“I figured. Always putting me on the spot, babe.”
“You handle it far better than I ever could.”
“Lies,” Cross said under his breath.
“Is not. How did that meeting go with your guys last night? You didn’t say a word about it when you got home.”
“Because it went over about as well as I expected, Catherine.”
She tipped her head back and peered up at him. “Tell me.”
Cross’s lips flattened into a grim line, but never once did he stop stroking his fingers through Catherine’s hair. “Mostly, they’re pissed off at Zeke for putting them in a position they have never put him in.”
“That’s fair.”
“It is.”
“Why do I hear a but in there, Cross?”
“But it could just as easily be any of them, you know? Cosa Nostra has a way of suffocating made men with all its rules and expectations. Nobody wants to admit it or say it out loud, but there are always times when rules are not the most important thing in life. A man can’t always be good and honorable to the life. Sometimes, shit happens.”
“Shit like love?”
Cross did grin a little at that. “Yeah, babe. Things like love, I guess.”
“It’s not that simple, though, is it?”
“Never.”
“Didn’t think so.”
Cross sighed heavily, and his hand dropped from her hair to toy with the edge of her silk robe. It had fallen open in the tumble to his lap, leaving her body on display and in reach for him to touch. He did just that, and Catherine got lost in the sensation of deft fingers gliding over her soft skin.
“He still put them in a bad position—me, too.”
“Sure.”
“So I have to let them be pissed, and have their … fucking feelings,” Cross muttered with a dark laugh.
“What about the rest?”
“Hmm?”
“The Russians,” she clarified.
“Vlad Sokolov is not a man who is easy to work with.”
Catherine made a face. “To be fair, neither are you.”
“No, but I’m not out there looking for a street war, either. He seems perfectly happy to jump right into one.”
“Oh.”
She twisted her hands together on her lap. A nervous tic that helped her to settle anxiety whenever it popped up.
Cross didn’t miss it.
“I wanted to work it out in a way that at least satisfied both sides,” he said quietly.
“You knew that was unlikely, though, considering everything.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“So what now?”
“Now … I just work on removing the problem.”
Catherine folded her arms over her chest, and ignored Cross’s fingertips edging along the waistband of her cotton panties. “What about the rest of us? What are we going to do while you remove the problem?”
“Stay safe.”
“How exactly—”
“You’re going to need to head out again for work soon, aren’t you?”
“Probably.”
Very soon, likely.
Catherine hadn’t brought up the subject of her needing to head back to L.A., pay an unsuspecting former client a visit, or that she might finally have a source who could get her into the Mexican cartel.
A source that had been right under her nose.
“I was thinking that since you’re already going to be gone, and on the move for a couple of weeks or so, maybe you could take Cece with you.”
Catherine glanced up at her husband again. She could hear it in his tone, but also see it in his face. He didn’t like that idea because he hated being away from Cece for long periods of time.
“Keep her on the move, too, you mean,” Catherine said.
Cross nodded. “Smart, isn’t it?”
“Harder to hit a moving target, that’s for sure.”
“I can focus on just one thing at a time—making the threat disappear. It’ll be easier if I’m not also needing to worry about where you and Cece are, or if someone is doing a good enough job watching your back.”
“You only say that because—”
“No one does it better than me,” Cross interjected with a smirk.
“Arrogant boy.”
“Man.”
Catherine leaned up, turned just a little, and kissed Cross. Instantly, his tongue was already slipping between her parted lips, deepening the kiss and making her breath catch in her throat. Her fingers curled around the arms of the chair while his hands palmed her ass. She pulled away just far enough to rest her cheek to his.
“Still my arrogant boy,” she whispered.
Cross smiled against her cheek. “Your turn.”
“Aw, but you were doing so well talking about your problems.”
His laughter coated her like sweet, rich honey. Then, his fingers tickled down her sides.
“Nope, your turn, babe.”
“Awesome.”
“Start talking,” Cross demanded.
Catherine started ticking things off. “Lack of cocaine. No supplier. Andino and John are pissed off at me because I didn’t let them in on the little secret from the jump. Ma still hasn’t accepted my apology, but I basically know now that this is a teachable moment for me. So, I still have to figure shit out on my own. Someone is stealing clients, and not just any clients, big name clients. Ones that are not easy to get to, you know?”
“A-list?”
“Yep,” she said, popping the word out of her mouth.
It still left a bitter taste behind.
“About John and Andino,” Cross started to say.
“No, you cannot get in between us and play the deflection game for me. I’m already aware that they’re only going to allow me so much time to figure out a new supplier and get a shipment in before they step in and do it.”
“Well, okay,” Cross said.
He sounded anything but okay with that.
It was what it was.
“What do you have figured out?” her husband asked.
“Things you probably won’t like.”
Cross scowled. “Do tell.”
“Well, I think I have access to someone who can get me a face to face with the cartel boss.”
“Would you be opposed—”
“To you going with me, yes.”
Cross grunted under his breath. “Christ, don’t even let me get it out.”
“I can do it alone. I need to.”
“You need to take someone.”
“Miguel,” Catherine said.
“All right, that’s … better.”
“Mostly to keep Cece in a safe place while I do business.”
His scowl was back in an instant.
“So that’s that,” Catherine said, deciding to move on to the next issue before this one could start a fight. “I’m going to approach one of the high profile clients, too.”
“Like full-on public contact?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little … stupid?”
“I’m not concerned about losing them—I already have.”
“True enough,” Cross said quietly.
“But one thing at a time,” Catherine murmured. “Cocaine first, then the client issue. I need to knock this shit out one thing at a time.”
Cross pressed his lips to Catherine’s head, and gave her a kiss. “You’ll kill it, babe.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
“All the while, you’re stewing because I won’t let you help or step in.”
Cross hummed under his breath. “It’s always been like this with us, though. Sometimes, yeah, I have a different opinion about your business than you do, but it’s not my business. You asked me not to cross that line once, and I haven’t.”
“Thank you.”
He pulled her up higher in his arms to kiss her cheek. Then, her chin. The line of her jaw. The column of her throat. And finally, her mouth. Sweet, hot kisses with little flicks of his tongue that made heat pool between her legs.
“Tease,” she whispered against his lips.
Cross’s grin turned sinful. “It’s only a tease when you don’t get what you want in the end.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“I said so, Catty.”
And he wondered where their daughter got it from, honestly.
“So what exactly do you plan on giving me this morning, then?” Catherine asked, sitting straight up in his lap.
He turned her so that her back was resting against his chest. Strong hands grabbed tight to her thighs, and his hips lifted, grinding into her ass. The length of his erection dug into her backside, making Catherine shiver.
“Exactly what you feel, babe.”
“Mmm, that does sound nice.”
“Nice?”
Offense colored his tone.
“Try again,” he ordered in her ear.
“Crazy. Hot. Perfect. Sexy. Fantastic.”
“And …” he drawled, trailing off.
“Oh, my God. You are terrible.”
“Come on, indulge me, Catty. You know I like it when you indulge me a little.”
“You just want me to beg, Cross.”
“Entirely.”
He wasn’t even ashamed.
Frankly, neither was Catherine.
She liked it, too.
Cross’s hand drifted up from her thigh, between her opened robe, and along the column of her throat. A ghost of a touch—barely there at all. Yet, she swore those were the kinds of touches she felt the most when it came to him. Those were the touches that left her shivering all over.
When his palm flattened to her throat, and his lips were back at her ear making his sinful promises again, Catherine sighed.
“Come on, babe. Say it for me.”
“Please.”
His fingers tightened around her throat. “Again.”
“Please, Cross.” She squirmed in his hold, making sure to grind her ass along his hard shaft. “Please. Don’t you want to fuck me, Cross? Don’t you?”
“Catherine, that’s not—”
“Don’t you want to fuck me crazy, and make me scream? Don’t you want that, Cross?”
He grumbled her name under his breath before saying louder, “I see what you’re doing, babe.”
“Cross.”
“Stop trying to turn this around on me, Catherine.”
She hummed a sweet sound. “But it’s working.”
She tried shifting on him again, to tease him a bit more, but Cross held her firmly in place. She couldn’t move a damn inch.
“Tell me how bad you want it, Catherine,” he murmured in her ear.
Fuck.
Well, she had a good run.
But his voice was enough to break any resolve she had.
“Tell me, Catty.”
“So bad, Cross. I want you so fucking bad.”
“Of course you do, my girl.”
“Arrogant pr—”
Catherine’s insult died on her lips when Cross’s fingers slid into her mouth. The hand on her thigh dipped between her legs. She sucked on his fingers while he slipped three under the gusset of her panties, and then deep into her pussy. One stroke, then two. The third came harder. The fourth, deeper. And on the fifth? He curled them hard into her G-spot.
Knowing, sure, determined thrusts.
One reason Catherine loved being pregnant?
Her body felt everything.
Every. Little. Damn. Thing.
She suddenly had nerves in places that never existed before. She could come faster, and harder, than before.
It was wonderful.
Another slide of his fingers inside her sex, and Catherine rocked her hips to match the beat. It wasn’t going to take long at all—she wasn’t going to last long.
Cross likely knew it.
And he probably knew exactly what she needed to help …
“Fuck those fingers, babe,” Cross urged in a husky murmur. “Get that pussy so wet it’s dripping down my hand. Come on, Catty. Give it to me.”
Yep.
“Cross. Oh, my God,” Catherine gasped. The first tendrils of an orgasm wrapped around her nerves. She didn’t even get the chance to take a full breath, and it was ravaging through her body. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Up,” she heard him demand.
When Catherine didn’t move as fast as Cross wanted her to, he simply shoved her up to her feet, yanked her panties down her thighs, and bent her forward. His fingers dug into the cheeks of her ass as he buried his face into her cunt from behind. His tongue tunneled against her clit relentlessly. Again and again until she was a shaking mess once more. She couldn’t even catch her breath that time around, not that she really minded.
Catherine’s cries of Cross’s name bounced off the walls.
Her heart thundered.
Just as that second orgasm started to lift her back to heaven, he pulled away. Catherine didn’t have time to consider the loss of his mouth on her clit before she was yanked back into his lap. Already, he had his cock in his fist, and he pulled her into it.
She was already so wet between her thighs that sinking down on his length was nothing but bliss. Cross’s mouth was back at her ear, his lips drifting over the shell and leaving her wetness behind as his hips flexed upward. It forced his cock deeper into her pussy, and all Catherine could do was moan.
“Like that, babe?”
“Just like that.”
He tugged her silk robe down over her shoulders until it was gathered at her wrists. He pinned her hands to her lower back, widened his legs, and let her put her feet to the floor.
“Are you going to let me fuck you now?” he asked.
“Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please fuck me, Cross.”
Her husband lifted her just enough that she was balanced between the hold he had on her wrists at her lower back, and her feet on the floor. It kept her maybe an inch or two off his lap, but it was enough for him to fuck her with a brutal pace that both ached and made her absolutely crazy.
He lifted and then pulled her body into his cock again and again. She didn’t have to do a damn thing but let him work her the way he knew best.
That orgasm Catherine had been so close to was fast approaching all over again. Cross simply fucked her through it without stopping.
Catherine figured this was going to be the last time she got to enjoy Cross like this for a little while. At least, until things calmed down, and she was back home again.
Cross probably knew it, too.
She tossed her head back, and sucked in air, needing it for her burning lungs and overheated body. Shit, she just wanted to come again.
“Harder,” she managed to whisper.
Cross obliged.
He always did.
“Hey, Haven.”
Andino Marcello’s wife passed Catherine a smile as she handed over a cell phone to the ten-year-old girl sitting beside her on the bench. The young woman was the same age as Catherine, but that was where the similarities ended.
Haven, a blue-eyed, blonde beauty, had lived a life far removed from the one Catherine grew up in. For the most part …
“Catherine,” Haven greeted.
“How’ve you been?”
“Tired,” Haven replied with a laugh.
“I bet.”
Two kids could do that to a person.
Not to mention, Haven was heavily pregnant again.
In fact, Andino had pretty much managed to keep his wife pregnant from about a year after the moment she said “I do” one quiet afternoon. Haven seemed to like it, though.
To each their own …
“Maria, go play with the girls, huh?” Haven said.
The ten-year-old nodded, and darted off to play with the other girls. Compared to Haven’s daughters’ light complexion, blonde hair, and blue eyes—all of which they took from their mother—Maria’s tawny skin tone, russet eyes, and black hair really set her apart from the others. Compliments of her Hispanic heritage. Most people assumed the girl was adopted because she spent so much time with Haven and Andino’s family, but that wasn’t the case. Maria’s mother was simply a very good friend of Haven’s—close friends.
Catherine knew part of the truth … and that’s why she had come to Haven today.
“What can I do for you?” Haven asked.
“Some direction or a contact without you letting your husband know I asked for it would be a great way to start.”
Haven raised a single manicured brow high. “Go on.”
“Maria. Her mom—”
“Is working today,” Haven interjected.
Catherine nodded. “What about her dad?”
Haven passed Maria a quick glance. “As far as I know, he’s dead.”
“Oh, I thought he was still alive and had a hand in the cartel down in Mexico.”
“Used to, but you know, shit happens.”
Haven offered nothing else.
Catherine didn’t ask.
Well, damn.
There went Catherine’s chance at an inside contact with the Mexican cartel. She had hoped to use whatever lingering connection Haven’s friend might have to Maria’s family. It could help Catherine with her little supplier issue. Catherine didn’t know a lot about Maria’s mother, or what happened all those years ago because the information wasn’t offered out.
It wasn’t polite to ask, either.
“Okay, well, I’m sorry I bothered you,” Catherine said.
“Wait,” Haven said, putting a hand on Catherine’s knee before she could stand. “Is this about the cocaine thing?”
Catherine folded her arms over her chest. “What do you know about that?”
“I know Andino has been weighing the risk or reward of contacting the Gomez family for the last month, but given our previous history with some of them …”
“Maria’s grandfather and father, you mean?”
“Even though they’re dead, there’s still quite a few that would happily take a pound from Andino for the shit he pulled. Maria’s mom saved our asses back then. An eye for an eye is real with that kind, let me say.” Haven shrugged. “It might not be good for him to invite a possible problem in, that’s all.”
“I get that.”
“But you …”
Catherine gave Haven a smile. “What about me?”
“You’re not Andino. You don’t have history with them. You even have a different last name than my husband, now. You guys really need a supplier, huh?”
“He talks to you a lot about business, doesn’t he?”
Haven laughed lightly. “Who the fuck else is he going to talk to?”
“Point taken.” Catherine rested back on the bench. “Do you know someone I could use to get a face to face with … well, anyone worth talking to down there?”
“I know someone,” Haven replied. “She’ll answer.”
“She?”
“She.”
“And we keep this between us?”
Haven smirked, saying, “Listen, Catherine, the last thing I need or want is my husband bulling his way down into Mexico. I like him alive, thanks. I intend to keep him that way. Trust that he will not learn I helped you along here.”
Catherine chose not to ask or say more.
She got what she needed and wanted, after all.
“She didn’t even say goodbye to me. Not properly.”
Catherine gave Cross a fake pout just to bother him a little bit more. She couldn’t help but tease him.
“Seriously, Catherine.”
“She’s excited to fly and see Miguel when we land.”
He still sulked. Although his sulking was still quite handsome, and mostly brooding. He tried not to glare at the private jet where Cece had disappeared without as much as a wave to her father.
“She didn’t even tell me she loves me,” Cross said.
Catherine reached out, caught Cross by his jaw with her hand, and turned him toward her. She kissed him hard, and only pulled away when she felt him smile against her lips.
“I love you,” she told him. “There, someone’s told you. Stop being sad, Cross. We talked about this, and it’s the best option. Safety, remember.”
Cross’s dark eyes drifted over her face, and then he stroked her cheek with two fingers. The windy, cold airstrip blew the skirt of Catherine’s dress all around her bare legs, but she barely felt it at all.
She was too busy staring at life and love.
She felt nothing but him.
“Be smart, huh?”
Catherine nodded. “Of course.”
“Keep her moving.”
“I will.”
“Tell Miguel I will—”
“Cross.”
He smirked. “Yeah, he already knows.”
Catherine spun to face her husband completely, and kissed him one more time. “I’ll call when we land, I promise.”
“You better.”
“Take care of business here,” she said, poking him in the chest.
Cross grabbed her fingers in his warm hand, and smiled. “Take care of your business, too.”
“You know it.”
Before Cross could convince her to stay, Catherine stepped away and let him go. She gave him a little wave over her shoulder as she headed up the few steps leading to the private jet. Once she was inside, and sitting down beside an overly excited Cece, she glanced out the port window.
Cross hadn’t moved.
Catherine pointed for Cece to see. “Say goodbye to Daddy, bambina.”
Cece waved until she caught Cross’s eye. His brooding mood flew just long enough for him to flash a wide smile for their daughter. He waved, too.
“Bye, Daddy! Loves my daddy, Daddy!”
Cross couldn’t hear her.
Catherine figured …
He knew.