Chapter 20
Crosby
I wake up alone, a bit disoriented as to where I am. But when I inhale deeply, I smell Juno and instantly relax into the mattress.
I’m at her place.
In her bed.
I slide a hand her way and find cool sheets, no Juno. The room is quiet, dark in the predawn hour, the city lights that never shut off muted by the curtains.
For a moment, I lie there, listening.
No footsteps. No movement.
Wherever she is, she’s settled. Juno doesn’t strike me as someone who slips out without reason—or without saying something. If she’d wanted distance she wouldn’t have invited me over in the first place, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have encouraged me to stay the night after we fucked.
I roll onto my back, one arm flung over the empty pillow, and let my mind drift to how the night unfolded.
Before I left the performance facility, I’d tracked her down as she was still filming in the rehab unit.
I flagged her attention and she quietly stepped away as Evan filmed one of the rookies getting dry needled in his lower back.
The interaction had been short and I didn’t waste time. “Dinner tonight?”
Juno didn’t have to think about it either, presenting efficiency above all else. “I’ll cook. Be at my place at seven.”
And so I was.
Dinner turned into easy conversation. Conversation moved to the couch with a glass of wine, and that turned into quiet. Quiet turned into her hand sliding into mine like it belonged there.
Bed came later and in a way that felt natural and unrushed. We both knew that’s why I was there, but we were both okay waiting for it.
It hadn’t felt like a hookup. It hadn’t felt temporary either and I expect the truth of what we are lies somewhere in between. It was the kind of night you don’t label because the labeling feels like it would cheapen it.
I consider my limited options. I can either go back to sleep or I can go find Juno. Given the choice of an empty bed or a beautiful woman, the decision is easy. I roll out of bed, not bothering with clothes.
Following the faint glow coming from the living room, I find Juno curled up on the couch, knees tucked in, a blanket thrown loosely over her legs.
The TV is on low—some late-night show I don’t recognize—casting a soft blue light across her face.
Her gaze is focused, attention rapt with whatever she’s watching.
I lean against the doorframe for a second, taking her in. She looks smaller like this. Not weak but unguarded. I smile as I note she’s wearing my T-shirt. Not sure what it says that I like that very much.
I cross the room and the movement causes her to jolt, but then her eyes run up and down my body with bold appraisal.
My cock twitches but I ignore it for now, instead settling beside her on the couch.
I flip the blanket over my lap, not out of modesty but so I can snake my hand under to rest it against her bare thigh.
Juno angles toward me, lips curving faintly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” I say, giving her leg a squeeze. “Everything okay?”
She nods, eyes clear of any worry or angst. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” I wait, adding no pressure to divulge. “TV usually helps. Gives my brain a distraction so it stops running at full steam.”
I study her profile. The way her fingers pluck at the edge of the blanket. “What keeps it busy?”
Her shoulders lift in a small shrug. “Everything. Nothing. Work mostly, but sometimes it can be a travesty happening somewhere in the world. I stopped trying to figure out my brain long ago.”
The honesty in that answer is so fucking refreshing I want to hear more. “Has it always been like that?” I ask.
She turns her head and really looks at me this time.
“When I was young, I saw too much. Things that didn’t make sense.
Things that shouldn’t have been allowed.
” She shrugs nonchalantly. “My brain would spin at night, trying to figure out how to stop it. How to fix it. How to keep it from happening again.” A faint, humorless smile.
“Turns out you don’t outgrow that kind of wiring. ”
“I can’t even imagine what that was like, and yet you come across as it not being a big deal.
” I had read up on the church that Juno belonged to.
I read all the news articles, watched news videos, and I even saw a follow-up story where her parents were interviewed, maintaining to the end that nothing was wrong with what was going on.
It left me sick that someone could abandon their kid that way.
“But I know it was a big deal, and I can’t wrap my own brain around it sometimes.
It’s not the way ‘church’ is typically portrayed. ”
Juno chuckles. “Yeah… it definitely was not an institution that was looking out for the best interests of the children. So I never think of it as a church. It was a cult, plain and simple. Everything was rigid and controlled. You were only praised for obedience, not curiosity. For compliance, not questions.”
My heart squeezes in reflex for that little girl.
“What I’m most curious about… you were turning fourteen.
You’d been raised in that environment. How did you know there was a better life out there?
How did you trust that when you ran, you weren’t running to a worse existence?
For that matter, how did you even know that marrying the pastor was a bad thing? ”
She says it without drama. Without bitterness. “Because I observed, and I did the math. I had no outside world to compare it to, but I saw what happened to other girls.”
I shift closer, our shoulders brushing, and she doesn’t pull away.
“There was a girl,” she says finally. “Her name was Liza, and she underwent the sacrament of marriage to the pastor when she turned fourteen. She was excited about it, preened in her wedding dress. She was praised for her obedience and held up to us other girls as a model follower.” Her gaze remains clear, unbothered, as if she’s come to full acceptance.
“She was smiling as she walked up the aisle to join him, and I wondered if I’d feel that way when it was my turn. ”
My stomach rolls because I know this isn’t going to end well. “What happened?”
“I never saw her smile again after her wedding night. Now, I don’t know what happened.
I didn’t even know what sex was back then because they didn’t teach us.
But I did know that the light left Liza and she was gone.
She stopped speaking unless spoken to. Stopped making eye contact.
She cried all the time, but quietly, like she’d learned not to inconvenience anyone with it.
I asked her once what was wrong and she said, ‘It didn’t matter.
’ But I saw the look in her eyes. It was fear, not for herself, but perhaps for me.
For the other younger girls.” Juno’s gaze shifts back to me. “And then one day, she didn’t show up.”
I wait.
“They said she’d gone to a better place,” Juno finishes. “That God had called her home.” Her mouth tightens. “But I knew the truth. We all did. She couldn’t survive what they were calling holy.”
“Jesus Christ,” I blurt, and then immediately apologize for taking the Lord’s name in vain. “Sorry… I mean—”
“Don’t apologize. I’ve uttered those words so many times when I wonder how God could let those things happen.
But to answer your question, I knew then that nothing that leaves that kind of wreckage behind can be right.
It was also evident that if I wanted to save myself, I had to do it on my own. So I ran.”
“Like I said, bravest fucking thing I think I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Didn’t feel it at the time, but I can look back and accept all the good that came of helping to topple that place certainly makes up for the things I lost.”
“Like your parents?”
Juno nods. “And a normal childhood. But I adapted.”
“You more than adapted,” I murmur, taking her hand in mine. “You flourished. And now?”
“Now I’m very good at managing my world,” she says. “So it’s late-night TV when my brain won’t turn off.”
Her eyes lift to mine. Hold.
“And this?” I ask, motioning between us. “Does this cause you to lose sleep?”
Her lips curve, eyes flashing with humor. “Admittedly, this is a bit different.”
“Dangerous?” I offer, because it feels that way to me. Juno is the type of person who’s hard to keep in reserve. Having only a small piece of her doesn’t feel like quite enough.
She nods, her gaze holding mine in absolute truth. “A little. You don’t fit into the mold of the type of men I usually date.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment,” I say with a chuckle.
“I’ll never lie about how I see things. I’ve unfortunately got a lens of experience that will filter the way I view the world. But I can tell you this—I never feel like I have to negotiate with you. That implies trust, and I’m a little confused how that’s come about.”
I consider that. “I think I can relate. You managed to get me to trust you by showing me your authentic self. Maybe that’s what it’s really about. Not holding back. Pushing aside the curtain and letting people see.”
Juno stares at me a long moment, and then she snorts. “Jesus… look at us talking all deep and shit.”
I laugh, the moment of levity breaching the dark places Juno showed me, and I reach out, sliding my hands under her arms and lifting her gently, settling her onto my lap. She lets me and her body molds against mine like it’s always known how.
I press my forehead to hers. “I bet I know a way to quiet your mind.”
Her hands press down into my shoulders, grinding gently against me. “You always this confident?”
“No,” I groan at the sensation she’s causing. “Just… sure about you.”
Her lips curve, slow and knowing. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
And this time, when I pull her closer, there’s nothing light about it at all.
Juno initiates the first kiss and lust spears through me.
The sound that leaves me is rough, pulled straight from my chest as my hands slide over her back to palm her ass before squeezing hard.
Juno arches her body, creating delicious friction on my cock, which has woken up and decided it’s glad conversation is over.
“Jesus,” I breathe out, more to myself than her as I whip my T-shirt off her body. “You know how to drive me crazy but two can play at that game.”
With strong hands at her hips, I pin her to my lap, and her nails dig into my arms as I bring her closer, so close my mouth finds her immediately. I take her nipple between my lips, sucking hard enough that she gasps, her body jolting in my hold.
I groan against her, easing the pressure long enough to soothe the sting with my tongue before switching sides.
Holding her trapped like this, helpless and trusting, makes me feral.
I take my time, alternating between slow, teasing pulls and quick bites until her head tips back, her breath breaking.
“I need more,” I murmur, shifting my body, lowering her to the couch with a care that doesn’t match the hunger in my voice. “Need you under my mouth. Need to taste you.”
Her body reacts instantly—legs pressing together, breath stuttering. I watch it all, dragging my hands down her sides and hooking into her panties along the way. Once they slide free, I spread her legs slowly, letting her feel every second of anticipation.
Juno stares at me with wide eyes, glittering with need. I glide my fingers along her inner thighs, watching as she shivers. I part her gently, my thumbs tracing where she’s already slick and ready, feeling the way she opens for me.
I slide a finger inside her enough to feel her tighten, then deeper, and watch her hips lift off the couch as she gasps.
“Fuck,” I breathe, pulling my hand back to taste her. “You’re incredible.”
Her laugh is breathless as I pull her closer, positioning her exactly where I want her. My hands guide her legs wider, my mouth hovering close enough that she can feel my breath before I touch her.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I tell her.
Then I bury my mouth between her legs.
Juno cries out instantly, hands slamming into my shoulders as my tongue presses into her, slow and deep. I take my time, learning her rhythm, her responses. Every sound she makes feeds me—every tremor, every inhale.
I change patterns constantly—long, steady strokes, then quick, precise flicks that make her gasp and arch. I use my fingers, stretching her, filling her, never letting the sensation feel predictable. Juno makes incoherent sounds that are fucking adorable and her hips gyrate, seeking more contact.
When her body starts to tense, when I feel her hovering right on the edge, I focus there—tongue relentless, fingers driving deeper until she breaks.
Her orgasm hits hard, ripping a cry from her as her body bucks beneath me. I don’t stop. I stay right there, keeping her open, riding it out with her until she’s shaking and overstimulated and begging me to stop.
Only when she’s completely undone do I pull back, watching her chest rise and fall, her skin flushed, her expression wrecked.
I go to my knees, my hands sliding under her thighs as I lift her legs higher, positioning her exactly where I want her. When she tries to scoot back, I stop her with a firm shake of my head.
“Stay,” I say. “I’ve got you.”
I guide myself to her, dragging the head of my cock through her slick heat, watching her gasp as I brush against her clit. She tilts her hips instinctively, silently begging.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “I know.”
I push into her slowly, inch by inch, feeling the way she stretches around me, the heat, the tightness, the way she takes me like she was made to. I cover her body with my own, my forehead dropping to hers as I breathe through the intensity.
“Tell me you feel that,” I say, low and rough.
“I feel you,” she whispers.
I push fully inside her then, holding still as we both register the moment—full, complete, changed.
I move carefully at first, long, deep strokes that draw quiet hums from her throat. Her hands roam over me as my pace builds. The couch creaks beneath us as our rhythm grows more frantic and explosive.
I cradle her as I move, kissing her deeply while I thrust into her, our bodies locked together in a way that feels too intimate to ignore.
Her climax hits again—hard and fast—and this time it drags me with her. I brace myself above her, watching her face as I give in, the release tearing through me with a low groan as I spill into her, completely undone.
I collapse onto Juno, breath ragged, my body still pulsing as I hold her close. That was fucking phenomenal and somehow, I know… the next time will be even better.