“Eh, it’s okay,” I answered with a shrug, the hitch in my breath completely belying my words. “I’ve seen better.”
One eyebrow rose as he pushed my shirt off my shoulders, his jaw clenching as he saw what I had on underneath. I wasn’t wearing a bra—I didn’t really need one—just a small camisole edged in lace that I’d found in one of my favorite thrift shops. My hard nipples were on display through the pale blue silk, and I shuddered as his thumbs immediately ghosted over them as he wrapped his fingers around the sides of my chest.
“You’ve had better?” he asked softly, unfastening my pants and pushing my underwear with them to the floor.
“Seen.” I cleared my throat in nervousness, his expression no longer playful as he grabbed a condom off the dresser. “I’ve seen better.” I didn’t know why I was pushing him; my joke had taken on a completely different tone by that point, sounding like a challenge I hadn’t intended.
He grabbed my wrist as he spun on his heel and stalked toward the bed, dragging me behind him until he’d sat down and scooted up against the headboard. His body was tight, all the muscles I’d been ogling on full display as he pushed down his boxers and rolled on a condom, and I’d started to quietly back away when his head snapped up.
“Get over here,” he growled, making my heart race.
I moved forward cautiously, climbing onto the bed and moving toward him on my knees, but apparently I wasn’t fast enough because as soon as he could reach me, he dragged me over his lap.
“On your knees,” he rasped, turning me to face away from him so I was straddling his thighs.
“Cody—” He was beginning to make me nervous, and while I knew he’d never hurt me, I’d never reacted well to the unknown.
“Quiet, Farrah.” The intensity, the raw need in his voice caused my mouth to snap shut in surprise. “Down on your elbows.”
When I hesitated briefly, he pinched me lightly on the ass—startling me into submission, which pissed me off. Why was I letting him talk to me like that? Before I could turn around to bitch him out, his hands were on my ass cheeks, pulling them apart.
“Don’t ever compare me to anyone else, Ladybug,” he ordered, leaning in to run his tongue lightly from the top of my clit all the way back to right before the pucker of my ass. “You’ve never had better than me. You’ll never have better than me. I’ve taken care of you for goddamn years, watching you do your thing and getting nothing out of it except for the peace of mind of knowing you were safe.”
His tongue burrowed inside me and my whole body clenched, my hips arching back toward him as I dropped my head to the bed between my hands. I couldn’t get close enough to him, scratching against the soft sheet beneath us with my fingernails as I pushed back against his mouth. His hands were firm on the back of my legs, his thumbs framing my pussy as he held me still.
“I’ve always taken care of you, Farrah,” he rasped with a small bite to my lips before focusing on my clit. He licked in small circles almost leisurely while I panted and mewled into the bed, acting as if he had all the time in the world, until suddenly he started rubbing up and down fast and slipped first one, then the other thumb inside me. I lost it, screaming into the bed as I came.
I barely noticed as he pushed me forward, pulling his body up and over me from behind. He braced himself above me, tilting my hips to get the angle he wanted as he used the stubble on his chin to push my curls over one shoulder, leaving my back bare above the silky camisole. He paused for a moment, leaving me panting and tilting my hips up just a little farther in anticipation, but his next words made me freeze.
“Nobody will ever take care of you as good as I do. No one will ever fuck you as good as I do. I’m it for you, Ladybug. Now, scream my name so I know you heard me,” he instructed in a gravelly voice.
He bit down on the back of my neck and shoved forward, seating himself in me on the first thrust. I yelped and tried in vain to pull my hips forward as he pulled halfway out and thrust again, so sensitive from my orgasm that the feeling was almost painful, but he didn’t let me move. Instead he tempered his thrusts, going easy until I was ready for more, then picked up the pace as I started moaning beneath him, his teeth never leaving my neck.
As he came, I realized two things. There were going to be bruises in the shape of teeth marks on my neck, directly over Echo’s memorial tattoo. He’d covered up Echo’s mark with his own.
As much as I wanted to keep my distance, Cody was just as determined to break through.
Yeah . . . I was completely and utterly fucked.
Chapter 9
Casper
Farrah tried to play off the night before as if it hadn’t mattered, but I knew it did. I’d fucked up, overacting about that fucking tattoo and then leaving her after she’d already had such a shitty night. I’d been so pissed that she’d tattooed something on her body for him, I was afraid I’d do something I’d regret—like telling her what a piece of shit her precious Echo was. So I’d left instead, which I realized later was just as bad.
I’d gotten on my bike and gone to the club, checking in with the brothers to make sure I was still good for some time off. I hadn’t thought my trip through, in more ways than one, and running into Slider when I hit the bar was weird as fuck for both of us. He’d known I was going down to knock some sense into his daughter, and there was a good chance I’d be coming back to Oregon with her¸ but he probably hadn’t thought it would actually work.