Taming Cross - Ella James Page 0,2

tissue. Instead of letting her wipe at my face again, I grab the thing from her and do it myself.

I can tell she doesn't like that. She tries to keep her face neutral, but I know her well enough to see the way her mouth pulls down just a little at the corners. Disappointed.

I don't get it. Am I supposed to let her mother me? Why would she want to? It’s not like my own mother ever did. I ball the tissue up and toss it onto my bed, not caring if the blood stains my dingy gray blanket.

It wasn't always like this—things so complicated between Lizzy, Suri, and me. For years, Suri's parents called us the Three Musketeers, and we were good friends. Just friends. I fucked it up first by getting a hard-on for Lizzy. Then Lizzy met Hunter West, they got engaged, and I put a cap on my feelings. Around the same time, Suri and her fiancé, Adam, had a messy split, and I was laid up in rehab. I think Suri needed the distraction of me. I’m not gonna lie: I love her for it. I will always love her for it. But I don't love this. The expectation.

What the hell does she want?

I'm looking into her eyes, trying to think of something funny to make her smile, when Suri leans in and puts her palm on my chest.

“Cross,” she murmurs, looking earnestly up at me as her fingers move slowly over my shirt. “Did I do something wrong?”

I blink down at her. “No.” Yes—and this is it! I look at her hand on my chest and think about how wrong it is: the way I'm thinking about her tits, freed from her bra, cupped in my hand. The way some evil part of me knows that I could fuck her if I really tried.

And dammit, wouldn't I like to?

I can't jerk off—not since the crash. At first, I thought it was the stroke or something messing with my junk, but then I went to Marchant's perv ranch and some chick named Loveless got me off in less than twenty seconds, so I know it's not the hardware. When I'm alone it's just not happening. But when I'm with someone like Suri...

Gritting my teeth, I move her hand off my chest. I lay my right hand over her shoulder, looking into her eyes again, like maybe mine will tell this story for me. Her frown deepens and I clench my jaw. C'mon, asshole, grow a pair.

“Suri,” I say, my voice dipping low and deep, “you should be careful.” When her frown deepens, I suck back a big breath. “Doing something stupid with you is the last thing I would want.” I swallow, feeling like that shell-less turtle again. “You're one of my best friends.”

Her hazel eyes are large and earnest. “Are you saying you’re tempted by me?” She gives a soft laugh, and I run my hand through my hair.

“Is that such a terrible thing?” she asks.

“Well, it’s—”

“I get it. You’re worried I might get hurt.”

I nod. “I'm…uh…you know. Not really the dating kind. And you are. And Suri, you're beautiful.” But it's all friendship and friendship boners. I don't want Suri in that way.

Suri's nodding like she's getting it, and I'm so relieved I feel like laughing. Then she wraps her arm around my neck, leans in close enough to kiss me, and lifts her soft hand to stroke my cheek. My dick betrays me as she mashes her breasts against my chest.

“There's nothing to worry about, Cross. I know you can't make promises...and that's okay with me. What I feel for you—” She looks into my eyes. “What I feel for you is unexpected, but I love it.”

My lungs stop, mid-breath. What?

Suri takes my hand and tugs me over to the bed. I follow mostly because I don't know what else to do. When she urges me down onto the mattress, I let her—and then I let her climb on top of me. Because I'm a bastard and my cock is cheering like a Red Sox fan in 2004. Because it feels so good to have a woman's body on mine.

Then she leans down, cloaking me in the curtain of her hair, and she kisses me like I never thought Suri would kiss. Holy fuck, I can't help but kiss her back! I squeeze her hip and grab her ass. I try to grab her ass. Both arms raise, both hands move to