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barked out a laugh.
I have no doubt you would, he said. But you won t need to I made that shit clear after you d
left. You gotta understand, Farrah. She feels responsible for me after everything that happened. Not
saying that s right or wrong, it just is. And I haven t talked about you, so me moving you up here was
a surprise.
You didn t move me up here. I moved up to be with Callie. Plus, it s not like you had anything
to say about me anyway, I grumbled.
I had plenty to say, just didn t say it. Shit was too weird with us then, the back and forth, barely
seeing you. I didn t want them asking about us when I wasn t sure if you d even let me in here.
I was so mad at you today, I confessed.
I knew that when you turned into a zombie, he replied, brushing my hair gently from my face. I
didn t know what was going on and you were spouting off nasty shit, so I just reacted. It won t happen
again, Ladybug. You come first, always.
Please don t leave me alone with them again, I asked in a shaky voice.
His nostrils flared, his eyes filled with remorse. I won t, baby, I promise.
He climbed off me and reached for my hand as he sat up against the headboard. He leaned over
and grabbed a condom from the nightstand, somehow opening it with his teeth and rolling it down his
length with one hand. We held hands as I scooted over to rest my ass on his thighs, and eventually his
other hand rose to cup the side of my face.
Things aren t always going to be easy, Ladybug, he told me quietly, our eyes meeting in the
dark room. I m going to screw up and you re going to piss me off. Stop trying to walk away. Stop
trying to push me out. I m not going anywhere, okay? I don t want to be anywhere but right here. He
let go of me to maneuver my body, and soon he slid inside me until we were fully connected. Then he
stopped.
His fingers slid into my hair to hold me in place as I wrapped my hands around the sides of his
neck. I need you to fight for yourself, baby, he whispered against my lips. I need you to fight for
us.
I ll try, I replied. Then I began to move.
I pulled myself up and dropped back down, over and over until my thighs burned. His hands
were everywhere sliding down my back to grip my ass, wrapping around my waist, cupping my
breasts, gripping my hair. They didn t stay in one place for long; just when I d start leaning into what
he was doing, he d stop and start somewhere else.
When we were both sweaty, our breathing fast and heavy, he reached up and grabbed my hand,
pulling it between us.
Get yourself off. He was panting, his eyes wild. I want to watch.
I was too far gone to feel any sort of self-consciousness, and immediately started rubbing my clit
in small circles, my orgasm rushing in within minutes. I couldn t stop the moans that poured from my
throat, and barely heard his words as he talked dirty in my ear.
When the orgasm finally ebbed away, I could no longer continue riding him. My body was
boneless as I slumped against his chest, my arms barely able to hold on as he flipped me onto my
back.
I love you, Farrah, he said into my shoulder. His face was buried in my neck as he raised my
hips and thrust hard a few more times, finally coming with a low grunt.
It wasn t the first or the last time that Cody would completely derail my plans, but whether that
was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.
Chapter 12
Farrah
What about this one? Cody asked, running his fingers across the script tattoo on the side of my right
thigh. All the reading she had done had given her a view of life that they had never seen.
Did you ever read Roald Dahl books in school? I asked.
Sure, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Right. This tattoo s from Matilda. I loved that book growing up. Her parents sucked too.
He ran his tongue over the letters. You like to read?
I love it, always have. We didn t have a TV when I was a kid, but I could always check out
books from the library at school. That s probably why I have such an addiction to them now.
Me too. I haven t had time to read in a while, though, he replied.
I always read, I feel weird if I haven t read in a while, like jittery and shit. The only time I
wasn t reading a bunch was when I was drinking all the time. It s hard to read when you can t focus
on the words.
Not too drunk to get tattoos, though, huh?
God, the smirk on his face killed me.
Never too drunk for that, I joked, as long as you can find a tattoo guy that doesn t give a shit.
How many are there? Maybe I should count them, he mumbled against my skin, running his lips
across the tattoo again.
Twenty. I laughed as his face lifted in surprise. I have ten ladybugs, though, and my flower.
The mood in my bedroom turned somber as my last sentence sank in. We d been lying in bed for
hours, dozing and talking. We were both trying to keep things simple, coming down from our earlier
fight, but the reminder of my scars was like a bucket of cold water thrown over our bodies as we
relaxed in our afterglow.
I wish I could have killed him for you, he told me seriously, resting his chin on my belly.
Well, thankfully that ship has sailed.
How long was he with your mom? he asked nonchalantly. His hands had started trailing over
my tattoos again, but he couldn t hide the tension in his shoulders.
They got together when I was twelve. I didn t want to tell him. I wanted to forget everything
that had happened before I d been taken in by Callie, but I found myself speaking anyway. At first it
was okay. My mom was always a junkie, ya know? So when I was little, there were all of these
tweakers in and out of the house. It freaked me out. When she got with Gator, that shit stopped, and I
was fucking relieved.
Cody kissed my hip and moved himself up the bed to lie next to me, gently pulling me on top of
him, our bodies aligning from toes to chest.
Keep going, he said.
I laid my arms across his chest, resting my chin on them as he played with my hair. So, yeah, at
first I was stoked. I didn t have to deal with all the creepers anymore. Mom and Gator were barely
ever home, so that was a plus. It took a couple of years before he started creeping me out, though.
Like, this one time, he came up behind me in the kitchen and sort of pulled my hips back against his,
and his tiny dick was hard. I was, what, fourteen? Yeah, I think I was like fourteen by then, because it
was the summer before high school. Anyway, it was fucking gross, and he tried to play it off like he d
thought I was my mom or some shit. But then he started talking about my boobs and how I d filled out,
blah blah blah.
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