Craving Absolution Page 8

And now he was there, safe and wrapped around me in a way I’d never let myself imagine him. I inhaled against his throat, reveling in the clean scent of his skin as he lifted me against the door, and tried to wrap my legs around his waist.

“These have to go,” he growled, pushing at the waistband of my sweats when the extra material kept me from getting as close as he wanted. They slipped off my hips and hit the floor just seconds before he successfully pulled my legs completely around his waist. “There you are,” he murmured into my mouth as he used his hips to brace me against the door, then rocked his pelvis against me.

I could have sobbed with relief when his mouth met mine again. I knew my lack of baggy pants took away any chance of camouflaging how skinny I’d gotten, and for a second, I was terrified that when he saw me he’d be disgusted. He wasn’t grossed out, thank God. If anything, my freshly waxed legs, no matter how slender they were, seemed to have lit a fuse in him that had him groping at them desperately.

I was sucking at his bottom lip, pulling his T-shirt up his body, when a knock at the door startled us both.

“You expecting someone?” he asked suspiciously as he set me down gently on my shaky legs.

“Yeah, maybe we can have a threesome?” I replied in a high-pitched voice, dramatically reaching up to twirl my fingers in my hair like an airhead. Then I dropped my hand and shook my head at him, scowling. “Don’t be a dick.”

The knock sounded again, and with one last glance he wiped a hand over his face before turning to unlock the door, pushing me cautiously behind him as he opened it.

“G-Gram,” he stuttered, and I watched the back of his neck darken.

He didn’t stop his grandmother as she used the palm of her hand to push the door wider, and I grimaced as she caught a look at me in all my whorish, half-naked glory.

“It’s about time.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t care what you’re doing, but keep your voices down. The whole damn complex can hear you screaming, and if you wake up your nephew, I’ll kill you.”

She stepped toward Cody and reached around him, running her hand gently down my hair before giving my shoulder a small squeeze. “I’ll see you both in the morning for breakfast,” she stated firmly, catching my eye to let me know she wasn’t going to let me skip out.

We stood there silently as she walked away, and as soon as we heard her apartment door shut next door, Cody turned toward me and closed the door.

“I’ll get you some blankets for the couch,” I mumbled in embarrassment, pulling at the bottom of my tank top as if to hide the plain cotton underwear I was wearing. No longer in the heat of the moment, I was rethinking the advisability of sleeping with my best friend’s brother, especially with his grandmother next door. I took a step back, refusing to turn around and let him see my ass with the words You Bowl Me Over written across my underwear, complete with little black bowling pins.

“Farrah,” he said softly, refusing to move until I lifted my head to look at him. I tried to keep my expression neutral but must have been unsuccessful, because in the next moment he flipped the dead bolt and murmured, “Fuck it,” as he lifted me up and carried me toward my bedroom.

Chapter 3

Farrah

Cody’s lips never left mine as my back landed on the tangled sheets of my bed, and I squeaked in surprise when something dug into the back of my thigh.

“What’s wrong?” He gasped as I tried to wiggle off the offending object, the breath from his words whispering across my skin as he moved his mouth over my jaw.

“Stop!” I yelped, pulling my face away.

“What?”

“Move!” I groaned, pushing him to the side as I scooted up the bed. “There’s something digging into my ass.”

“There’s going to be,” he said, waggling his eyebrows up and down.

“Shut up!” I giggled, reaching under me to pull out . . . a high heel? How the hell did that get there?

“Shit, Farrah. You’re a little piglet.”

He sounded surprised as he looked around my room at the piles of laundry and miscellaneous junk that cluttered the floor. My face burned in embarrassment as I shrugged my shoulders and flopped back down on the bed.

“Tomorrow’s laundry day,” I grumbled, throwing my forearm over my face. What the hell had I been thinking, letting him into my room?

The bed dipped down and Cody straddled me on his knees, pulling my arm away to look at me.

“We’re cleaning this shit up tomorrow,” he told me with a smile, then ran his hands up my belly until he was cupping my small breasts in his hands.

“Cleaning is not an aphrodisiac, you lunatic,” I huffed, retreating into my protective sarcasm as I rested my hands lightly on his thighs. Holy shit, the guy worked out.

“You’re right, sweetheart, it really isn’t,” he whispered, leaning down until our faces were just millimeters apart. “But waking up with you in the morning is.”

He ran his tongue across my bottom lip, completely distracting me from the conversation we were having, and I gasped as his fingers found my nipples and gently squeezed. Good Lord, it was like he knew exactly what to do to make me come unglued. We were both breathing heavily as the kiss grew frenzied, and I almost missed it when he began to pull the thin straps of my tank top off my shoulders. Almost.

The straps had reached the middle of my arms before sanity crept in, and I reached up to grasp the shirt at my collarbone as he began to drag it down. We played tug-of-war for a moment, a silent argument that didn’t affect our kiss at all until he abruptly pulled away from me.

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