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Craving Absolution

Page 21

by Nicole Jacquelyn


  He barely touched me, and we hadn’t had sex in so freaking long that if a hymen grew back from lack of penetration, the doctors would be encountering a virgin birth in six weeks. It was frustrating as hell and I didn’t understand it, but I knew with complete certainty that it didn’t have anything to do with me. There was something weighing on him, and after hearing about the member and his daughter who’d betrayed the Aces, I wondered if that had anything to do with it.

  The playful, sexy Cody I’d fallen for was gone, and left behind was a man who rarely showed any emotion at all. He was good to me, and I really had no room to complain, but I missed him.

  I missed him kissing me like he couldn’t get enough of me, and copping a feel as I walked by. I missed the way he would waggle his eyebrows at me like a complete idiot when he was teasing me, or kiss a scowl off my face when he’d done something especially irritating. I missed the way he would piss me off and then fuck me into forgetting what I was mad about, like he’d done that one day . . .

  • • •

  I had been listening to the Beatles while standing at the sink in the kitchen, completely irritated that Cody couldn’t remember to rinse a single dish. I’d been trying to peel dried chili off the bottom of a bowl, when he walked up behind me.

  His hands grasped my hips through the long summer dress I was wearing, and before I could spin around, he pressed against me, guiding our hips so they were slowly swaying from side to side with the beat of the music.

  My breath caught in my throat as I felt him grow hard against my ass.

  Then he began to sing, and while his voice usually sounded like a dying hyena anytime he sang along with music on the radio, this time it was so low that he was practically whispering as he used his chin to pull my hair away from my neck.

  “Come together, right now, over me,” he sang.

  How he made the song sexy, I will never understand. But as he began to pull my dress up and over my hips, I dropped the bowl into the sink with a loud crash, completely absorbed in the way he moved against me, and the feel of his breath against my throat.

  Within minutes I had been sitting on the kitchen counter—my irritation completely forgotten—and he had been inside me, chuckling at the way I’d come unglued.

  • • •

  I shook my head at the memory, a small smile on my face as the cramp finally abated. God, those things freaking hurt.

  Gram and I were headed over to Callie’s in less than an hour so we could take Will off her hands for the day. Where I’d barely felt any different during the first few months of pregnancy, Callie had had the absolute worst first few months, and things didn’t seem to be getting any better. She was into her second trimester, the time period that every pregnant woman looked forward to as the end of her morning sickness, but Callie’s wasn’t going away. She was still sick all day long, and you could see the weariness on her face no matter what time of day it was, or even if she’d just woken up. She’d pretty much gotten screwed both literally and figuratively this time around. She just lay around the house most of the time, so on top of feeling like she was going to constantly vomit, she also had to deal with the guilt of foisting Will off on family members.

  Bottom line: Pregnancy sucked. I was glad mine was almost over.

  “Whatcha making?” I asked Gram as I waddled my ass into the kitchen. Shit, my hips hurt today.

  “Bacon and eggs,” she replied. “You want toast, you make it.”

  “Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this—” My words were cut off by someone knocking on the door. “I’ll get it,” I grumbled, grabbing my sunglasses from the table and sliding them on.

  I couldn’t have been more surprised by the visitor than if the pope himself had decided to grace me with his presence.

  “Uh, hey?”

  “Hi, sorry. I don’t have your number or I would have called. Can I come in?” Brenna asked, shifting her baby higher on her hip.

  “Yeah, sure,” I replied, stepping back from the doorway so she could scoot past me. “You can sit down if you want.” She was carrying not only the baby, but a huge bag of crap, and she looked like she was about to fall over.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said, falling onto the couch with a huff. “God, I don’t remember carrying this much crap with Trix.”

  “Hi, Brenna!” Gram called from the kitchen.

  “Hi, Rose!”

  “You want something to eat?”

  “Oh no, thank you, I’m only staying for a minute.”

  What the fuck was going on? What, they were buddies all of a sudden? I tossed my shades onto the coffee table, then stood there with a confused look on my face as Gram shuffled around and eventually walked toward the front door.

  “Farrah, I’m just gonna go grab Will and bring him back here so you two can visit,” she informed me as she picked up her keys. “Look away from the door, you don’t have your sunglasses on.”

  I turned my head away just in time to escape the sunshine pouring into the apartment, before the door was closed again.

  “So, I messed shit up with us,” Brenna began, speaking so fast that her words tumbled over each other. “I don’t have any excuse, except for the fact that I was pregnant and irrational, and worried about Cody. It was stupid. I was an idiot, but I’m hoping we can start over because you seem really cool and Callie seems really cool, and the Aces are a family and I don’t want things to be weird forever—”

  “Jesus, do you ever take a breath?” I asked in awe.

  “Occasionally.”

  “Okay, well, we’re fine. So don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh,” she said with a frown. “Well, that was easier than I thought.”

  “If you would have shown up a few months ago, you’d be leaving here bald after I’d snatched all of that pretty red hair right off your head. But now, eh,” I told her seriously, walking to the other end of the couch to sit down. “I’ve got bigger fish to fry, dude. I’m over it.”

  “Are you sure? Because I was a total bitch.”

  “Yeah, you were,” I replied with a grin. “It’s water under the bridge. Back then, Cody and I had just gotten together, and shit was weird and I was freaking out. Now? I know the dude’s not going anywhere. So, we’re good.”

  The lie about knowing Cody wasn’t leaving rolled smoothly off my tongue. I’d had years of practice.

  “I’m glad,” she said with a warm smile. “So, when are you due?”

  “Six more weeks,” I said with a whine, leaning back into the couch cushions. “It’s going to be the longest six weeks of my life.”

  “Nah, it’ll fly by,” she assured me, pulling out a little toy for her boy to stick in his mouth.

  “He’s cute.”

  “Thanks! He looks just like his dad.” She rolled her eyes. “It seems that dominant genes will forever make sure that my children look nothing like me.”

  We talked for close to an hour before she had to leave, and by the time she’d left, I was ready for a nap. I was just dropping off when the front door opened again and Cody strode inside.

  “Hey, Ladybug. What are you doing sleeping on the couch?” he asked as he made his way toward me, then leaned down to lift me into his arms. “We’ve got a perfectly good bed in the other room.”

  “I hate sleeping in there without you,” I mumbled, laying my head on his shoulder. “God, I’m so done being pregnant.”

  “Only a few more weeks, beautiful,” he reminded me, laying me gently in the bed.

  “Will you lay with me for a while?” I asked sleepily.

  I could see the indecision in his gaze, his wish to be somewhere else, but I didn’t take back my question. If he wanted to be somewhere else, he had to say it; I wasn’t going to give him an out.

  “Okay, baby,” he whispered, his face softening as he slid his cut from his shoulders.

  The Aces had patched him in not long after Slider had gotten out of the hospital, but I hadn’t gone to the party. I’d still been r
ecovering from surgery at that point, and thinking back, he hadn’t invited me anyway. I didn’t complain, though, because he hadn’t stayed out late that night, and when he’d gotten home, I’d been the one to cover his new tattoos with ointment.

  Yeah, tattoos. More than one. He’d gotten the big tattoo that all the guys had on his back that day, but the day before, he’d done something else . . .

  • • •

  “What is that?” I’d called blearily from the bed as Cody had pulled his shirt off and I caught a glimpse of some sort of bandaging on his chest.

  “Lay back down and I’ll show you,” he’d ordered, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down his legs.

  I didn’t know how he expected me to lie back down when he was giving me a personal strip show. He walked around the far edge of the bed and crawled in beside me, leaning up on one elbow until he was hovering over me, the bandage on his chest right in front of my face.

  “Take it off, baby.”

  “God, I’ve been waiting to hear those words for freaking months,” I teased, watching his mouth pull up on one side in a small grin.

  I reached up, feeling proud of myself that I’d made him smile, and gently pulled the tape that held the bright white bandage to his skin. When the tattoo came into focus, at first it looked like scribbly lines. I must have looked confused as hell, because he began to explain.

  “The top tattoo is your heartbeat,” he said quietly, making my breath hitch in my throat. “I marked the little paper they had hooked to your monitor when you were out, so I knew what part I wanted to use. I didn’t really need it, though, your heart sped up whenever I started talking to you, so even if I wouldn’t have marked it, I still would have known what piece I wanted.”

  I reached up to ghost my finger over the tattoo, careful not to touch it. My heartbeat.

  “The one on the bottom is our baby girl’s from when we had the ultrasound.”

  My finger ghosted over that one too, but I still couldn’t find anything to say.

  “They’re patching me in tomorrow, and I’ll be on the chair for fucking hours getting my back tat, but I wanted yours to be there first.”

  He had leaned down to kiss my lips, sliding his tongue into my mouth before pulling back again. “You come first, Ladybug, you and our children. Always.”

  • • •

  I smiled at that memory as I snuggled in as close as I could. Cody lay down on his back next to me, pulling the covers over us both.

  “Don’t leave without waking me up, okay?” I whispered, wrapping my arm around his waist. “I don’t like waking up with you gone.”

  He tightened his arm, understanding the meaning beneath my words. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he promised.

  I fell asleep knowing that I’d wake up with him beside me, but I was under no illusion that he’d always be there.

  Chapter 37

  Farrah

  The last week had been brutal. I was ornery, pissed off, and had a six-pound baby pushing on my bladder about ninety percent of the time, which meant most of my days and nights were spent on the toilet. I was done, done, done with being pregnant.

  Don’t get me wrong, I was happy as hell that the little nugget was sticking in there, waiting until she was fully ready before she made her appearance . . . but come on. It was time for her to vacate the premises. Like, yesterday. My due date was only three days away, and I was doing anything and everything I could to get her out.

  I dragged Cameron with me all over the neighborhood, walking for hours until I felt like I couldn’t take one more step. I ate the spiciest food I could stomach, which did nothing but give me righteous heartburn that kept me awake all night. I’d even tried using castor oil to get things started. After sitting on the toilet for hours, I wouldn’t recommend that to anyone.

  I was finally at the end of my rope, and I was taking it out on Cody. He had something I wanted.

  “Fuck me,” I demanded the minute he walked through the door that night.

  “What?”

  “Fuck me. Get undressed and meet me in the bedroom.” I pulled at the elastic top of my strapless sundress and dropped it to the floor, leaving me in nothing but a pair of panties that had covered a whole lot more of my ass a few months ago.

  He stared at me, dumbfounded, as his gaze roamed over my body, and he was silent and immobile for so long that I began to get really irritated.

  “Strip!” I snapped.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Are you joking?” I asked in annoyance. “Hello? I’m practically naked, let’s go!”

  When he still didn’t move, I strode toward him, my huge belly bouncing with each step. “Okay, I guess you can stay mostly dressed,” I conceded. “We just need to unbutton your—”

  He grabbed my hands in a tight grip as I reached for his jeans, and the pressure on my fingers had my head snapping up in surprise.

  “Stop, Farrah! Fuck!”

  “What is wrong with you?” I screeched, yanking my hands out of his. “You haven’t touched me in months! Is it because of this?” I gestured to my belly. “Because seriously, dude. You put that in there, so you can just deal with it for a couple more weeks!”

  “You’re beautiful, Ladybug,” he answered calmly. “More beautiful than ever.”

  My breath caught in my throat, and I could have screamed in frustration when I felt tears start falling down my cheeks. “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.”

  “Then touch me. Please. I’ve tried everything. Nothing is getting her out of there!” I started sniffling, my words coming out garbled. “The doctor said sex might work. Please, Cody.”

  I’d been reduced to begging the man I was living with to have sex with me.

  “You want me to fuck you so you’ll go into labor?” he asked incredulously, reaching for the button on his jeans. “Well, shit, I’ll just drop my pants and you can go to fucking town then!”

  That was it. I was toast.

  I dropped my face, hiding it behind my hands, and sobbed.

  “Ladybug,” Cody said with an exasperated sigh, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

  “I know!” I wailed, still hiding my face. “I just miss you. It’s been so freaking long, and I need you.”

  “Okay, baby,” he replied, rubbing my back gently. “Okay, come on. Shit. It’s all right. Don’t cry.”

  He leaned down and slid his arm under my legs, lifting me up to carry me like a baby. And even though I was a snotty, crying mess, it felt so good that I couldn’t be sorry for it. He smelled like home to me, his familiar cologne and the leather of his cut that I’d grown accustomed to over the past couple of months.

  When he laid me on the bed, I refused to let go of his neck, whimpering deep in my throat and pulling him with me until he was kneeling over my body.

  “Shhh,” he said, shrugging his cut off his shoulders. “I’ve got you, Ladybug.”

  He leaned down and kissed my face, running his lips over my cheeks and forehead before meeting my lips and pulling the bottom one with his teeth. “You gotta let go so I can get my shirt off,” he whispered.

  I immediately let go of his neck, my hands going to the bottom of his shirt as he grasped it behind his neck and pulled it off. When he leaned back down, I could have cried again at the feel of his bare chest against mine. It had been so long since we were that close, and I’d almost forgotten the sensation of the hair that grew in a small diamond on his chest rubbing against my skin.

  I raised my head to kiss him again, and before I could do anything, his hands were all over me and he had parted his lips, pushing his tongue against mine. His hands glided down my sides, then back up over my belly, stopping to rub where my belly button had popped out from the pressure on my skin.

  “You’re so gorgeous, Ladybug,” he said on a breath into my mouth as his hands slid up to cup my breasts. My nipples were sensitive as hell, and he use
d it to his advantage as he ran his fingers over them in feather-light touches, teasing me until my back was arching off the bed.

  “God, what is wrong with me?” he mumbled to himself, watching his hands on my chest. “I’m an idiot.”

  I was frantic, wrapping my legs around the back of his thighs and squirming, trying to get his hips closer to mine as he dropped his mouth to my breasts. He used his tongue to flick at my nipples, then closed his mouth around each one, sucking them hard in turn as I writhed and moaned.

  When he leaned up and pulled my underwear down my thighs, I sighed in relief. Finally. It was finally happening after months of waiting and trying to be patient, doing everything I could not to take whatever was bothering him personally.

  “I like this.” He groaned, running his fingers through the closely cropped hair at the apex of my thighs. “It’s different.”

  “I didn’t want to wax while I was pregnant. I didn’t trust them not to fuck it up,” I explained, my voice hitching as two of his fingers slid inside me.

  “Yeah? How do you keep it short? Can you even see down here?” He moved down the bed and lay on his belly between my legs, looking at me as if fascinated.

  “I use your beard trimmer,” I answered as his tongue took one long swipe at me. “And a mirror.”

  His head popped up, and his eyes were so dark I could barely see the blue irises in them anymore. “Yeah?”

  “It’s not easy,” I replied jokingly.

  “Why do it?”

  “I kept hoping—” My voice trailed off, my face growing hot.

  “I’m an asshole,” he said flatly.

  “You’re here now.”

  “Baby, you gotta stop cutting me so much slack. Fuck.” He dropped his head until it rested at the base of my belly. “You remember when I asked you to fight?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “I need you to do it. My head’s so fucked up, Ladybug. I keep messing this up.”

 

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