Craving Absolution (12 page)

Farrah

For most people, a day off work would mean a chance to sleep in until noon and lie around in their pajamas all day, but I couldn’t do it. I tried to find things to do when I wasn’t scheduled to work, so I wouldn’t have to sit alone in the apartment. It was still too quiet without Callie and Will, and it made me antsy.

I still saw them a lot
. We spent time at Gram’s or brought Will to the park, but it wasn’t the same. Callie’s inner circle had widened; she was having playdates and shit with other women from the club, and even if I’d had kids, I wouldn’t have been a part of it. I’d been steering clear of all of them except for the few times Trisha had brought her kids over to Callie’s.

Even though it was my c
hoice to stay away, I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being left out of their little group.

I
’d made plans to go garage-saling with Gram, and we wanted to hit all the good ones early. There was a science to it that Gram had mastered before I was born, and she’d been slowly letting me in on the secrets over the past couple of years. I think she was afraid that if she told me everything at once, I’d start going without her. She hadn’t realized yet that I didn’t really need any secondhand tablecloths or clothes hangers—spending time with her was the draw.

If you were looking for the good stuff, you always went as early as you could on the first morning the garage sales were open
, usually Friday. It was imperative to get there before the hordes descended and all that was left were some mismatched McDonald’s collector glasses and an old recliner that smelled like buffalo ass. On the flip side of that, if you just wanted the really cheap stuff, you’d go Sunday afternoon when the sale was ending and the seller just wanted the shit out of their driveway. They’d be selling their stuff for a dollar or less, just so they wouldn’t have to haul it away. Sometimes we went crazy and showed up on both days.

I finished getting ready—it was a 1950s housewife kind of day—and was packing up my purse when Cody walked in the front door. I knew immediately that something was wrong. When he closed the door behind him, he locked the dead
bolt with more force than was necessary, then pulled on the doorknob as if checking to make sure that the lock was in place. His broad shoulders were tight and his body was jittery as he turned to face me.

“
Hey, handsome,” I called quietly. “Thought you had to go to the club this morning?”

He didn
’t answer. Instead, he stomped toward me, the usual grace in his movements completely absent. I wondered if I should call Gram and ask her to come over—he was acting really strange—but before I could even finish the thought, he was in my space and lifting me up. I wrapped myself around him, wondering what the hell was going on, but stayed silent as he shuddered against me.

“
You going to work?” he asked into my neck.

“
No, I was going to run errands with Gram,” I answered, running my fingers around to scratch the back of his neck softly.

“
Grab your phone and text her, Ladybug. No errands for a while,” he ordered.

“
What’s going on, Cody?” I whispered, my stomach churning at the emotion in his voice.

“
Text Gram,” he repeated.

I leaned down to the back of the couch where I
’d left my phone, and sent a quick text to Gram letting her know I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, and that Cody said we shouldn’t be running errands for a while. I didn’t understand what that meant, but Gram must have, because all she did was text back “OK,” which was actually pretty damn good since she usually couldn’t remember how to reply. As soon as I was done, Cody snatched the phone out of my hands and tossed it.

He pulled back his head and smashed his mouth onto mine before the phone had even landed on the couch.
I jerked as he bit my lower lip and sucked it into his mouth hard, letting go of my ass to slide under my dress, his hands desperate and wild on my skin.

It didn
’t take long before his desperation was feeding mine; it seemed as if every time he put his hands on my skin lately, I was ready for him. Like some kind of Pavlov response, I’d been trained by months of incredible sex, so the instant he touched me, my body started winding up.

I never understood the whole
“panty-ripping” thing in romance novels; it seemed like that would leave freaking fabric burns on your hips, but maybe I was just wearing the wrong kind of underwear. The thought flashed through my mind as Cody reached between my legs to rub over the crotch of my underwear, but before I could debate the merits of flimsy underwear, he’d pushed it to the side and thrust his fingers inside me.

“
Hold on, baby,” he whispered huskily as my back made contact with a hard surface. It must have been a wall, but I wasn’t sure which one since my eyes had closed and my head had fallen to his shoulder as his fingers pumped in and out. He fumbled with the button on his jeans, and his fingers halted.

“
Don’t stop!” I murmured frantically.

“
I’m not. I’m not,” he mumbled before pressing his mouth against my shoulder and biting down. He must have gotten his pants undone and pushed out of the way, because before I could complain again, I felt him against me. “Guide me in, Farrah.”

I lifted m
y head, our gazes meeting from only inches away, and I swallowed hard. His eyes were red and watery, and his jaw was tight as he stared at me, waiting for me to follow his direction. He looked at me like I could save him, but I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. Normally I didn’t walk away from emotions, I ran, so for a split second I thought about making a smart remark, just to break the tension.

But for the first time ever,
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t think of a word to say because I knew I had go against all my instincts and comfort him. I had no other choice; there
was
no other choice. I tentatively leaned forward so our noses were touching, then rubbed mine up the side of his as I reached down to move his cock so we were lined up. Before I could move my hand back around his neck, he slammed inside me.

There was no finesse to his movements, no thoughtful glances to see how I was doing, or lingering touches to make sure I was climbing with him. He was oblivious, grinding and thrusting and holding me close as his breath stuttered shakily in and out.
He felt good inside me, really good, but I knew I wouldn’t orgasm. I needed more than I was getting to find release, but surprisingly, I didn’t care that he’d forgotten. In some perverse way I was glad that I wasn’t going to orgasm, because this time wasn’t for me. For some reason, he needed me to hold him—to get as close as we possibly could—and I’d never refuse him that if I could help it.

His hips started to slow, and he groaned low in his throat as he pulled me away from the wall. My hands had been soothingly running over his shaved head as he pounded away, but I paused when he came to a complete stop. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me into the bedroom,
still planted deep inside me, and unzipped the back of my dress with one hand.

“
I’m sorry, Ladybug,” he crooned as he lay me on the bed, pulling out to strip my dress over my head. He ran his hands from my shoulders to my hips, then with a sigh, he rested his forehead on my sternum.

“
That’s okay,” I reassured him, leaning up on my elbows to watch him nuzzle my belly. “What’s going on, Cody?”

“
Nothing.”

“
Bullshit. What’s wrong?” I asked, rubbing my hand down the side of his face.

“
Just some shit with the club,” he replied, his face losing its vulnerability as he leaned up and flipped me onto my belly. “On your knees, Ladybug.”

We
’d done pretty much everything we could do in bed, and I trusted him implicitly with my body, but something felt off. I couldn’t see his face anymore, and it scared me that he seemed to be hiding it as his body covered mine and he pushed inside me, hard. I yelled out in surprise and dropped to my forearms when I was suddenly supporting all of his weight. His chest was heavy on my back as one of his hands found where we connected, then rubbed quickly at my clit as his other arm wrapped around my chest, his fingers reaching for my breast.

He rode me hard
, more aggressive than he’d ever been. I’d have normally been frustrated as hell because I’d never been able to orgasm in that position, but before long, my hips were pushing back into his and I was coming. It went on for what felt like forever, his thrusts fueling the fire until I thought I’d pass out.

When his fingers finally stopped their movement, I collapsed. M
y hands slid forward until my chest was taking my weight, and I barely had enough strength to push my face to the side so I could breathe. His arm was trapped beneath me, but he yanked it out as he leaned back, and then both his hands were on my hips, pulling me into him. I watched the wall blearily as he pumped a few more times, feeling satisfied and spent.

It would have been the best sex we
’d ever had, but after he came with a shout and all was silent, he rested his head on my back and I felt something warm and wet run down my spine.

With a small kiss between my shoulder blades, he left me on the
bed. My body felt boneless but my mind was churning as I rolled to my side and flipped the quilt over me.

Was that a good
-bye fuck? Had he finally decided to leave? No, no, things had been fine that morning, hadn’t they? It must just be something with the club that was bothering him, like he’d said. But why wasn’t he telling me what was going on? Something big was obviously happening if he was that upset, but I couldn’t figure out what it could be.

Fifteen minutes later
, I finally pulled my awesomely sore body from the bed and stretched my limbs. I found my towel from this morning hanging over my footboard and cleaned up, and then shuddering, I rolled the towel into a ball and set it in the corner. I didn’t want to accidently use it again thinking it was clean.

Without bothering to put
underwear back on, I grabbed a summer dress off the floor and took a quick sniff. Yep, it was clean. I needed to be dressed if I was going to figure out Cody’s shit; I only wished he wasn’t in the bathroom so I could touch up my makeup and hair. I’d feel so much more comfortable if my armor were in place.

I was sitting on the bed
cross-legged when he finally came back in the room.

“
I’m heading out on a run, Ladybug,” he told me as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “You still got that box of shit I asked you to store for me?”

“
No,” I replied slowly. “I threw it out a couple of minutes ago when I realized you were going to keep telling me nothing was wrong.”

“
Babe.” He shook his head. “I’m gonna be out of town for a few days, maybe a week. I wanted to see you before I left.”

“
Is ‘see you’ a euphemism for rough sex? Because I’ve been using that phrase all wrong if it is.”

He
froze, a look of horror on his face as his gaze ran up and down my body. “I hurt you, Farrah?”

“
No, you didn’t hurt me!” I shot back, frustrated as hell that he wouldn’t tell me anything. “It was fine! I came, you came, then you cried! Everything is just hunky-fucking-dory!”

His worried face turned cold
, and I knew then that I should have kept my mouth shut. “I wasn’t crying.”

The Cody glaring at me wasn
’t anyone I’d ever met before. Even when we were fighting or I was trying to kick him out of my house, he’d never used that tone of voice with me. Like I was beneath him. Like I was nothing. All of a sudden it was clear why he fit in so well with my biological father’s club, and I hated it.

“
It must have been sweat,” I whispered back, my nose stinging with unshed tears. “Your box is in the back of my closet.”

He pulled his plastic storage container out of the closet and stuffed collared shirts, jeans
, and a fucking hipster cardigan into one of my duffel bags. I almost opened my mouth to ask what the hell he was doing when he packed a pair of lace-up Vans sneakers, but the scowl on his face stopped me. I could feel myself beginning to shake as he put the box away again, considerably lighter than when he’d pulled it out.

“
I’ll be back next week,” he told me, then kissed me quickly, rubbing his hand up and down my arm briskly. “You cold? Put a sweater on.”

He walked out the door, asking
me over his shoulder to let Gram know he’d be out of town, and within a minute I heard his bike start up outside. Just like that, he was gone.

For a few moments, I
’d turned back into that girl I’d been before—willing to let a man talk down to me just so I’d know that he was coming back. After Echo died, I promised myself that I’d never let anyone treat me like that again, yet I’d just let Cody do it. I’d even placated him, pretending I’d been mistaken so he wouldn’t stay mad at me.

What the hell was I doing?
He left me shaking, sore, and close to crying in the middle of my bed. I’d let him use me like a random fuck, mistakenly thinking I was doing some selfless deed to comfort him.