“I don’t want to think about it. Okay?” I told him quietly, kissing his chest. “I’m not really into threesomes. There’s no room for him here.”

I held my body still, waiting for his reply. Would he think I was a bitch for making light of it? Making flippant comments and poorly timed jokes was the way I made it through uncomfortable and painful situations, and speaking of Echo with Cody fell into both of those categories. I’d loved Echo, of course I had, but he died three years ago. At some point, after the downward spiral and subsequent come-to-Jesus meeting I’d had with Gram, I had to let him go. Whatever happened or didn’t happen with Cody had to be completely separate from Echo.

I was cringing inside, waiting for him to call me out on my remark when he surprised me, using his hold in my hair to jerk my face up to meet his. I tried to read his expression, but didn’t have the chance because his lips were on mine immediately, biting and sucking at them with an urgency that hadn’t been there before. I kept my eyes open, reveling in the way his eyebrows drew down in the middle as if he was concentrating solely on me.

Just as my eyes began to grow heavy, my breath coming out in pants as his hands tightened in my hair, he pulled his lips from mine and let go of me completely.

Cody’s eyes never left mine as he slid back off the bed and stood up, pulling his jeans, boots, and socks off before placing his hand between my breasts to push me back on the bed. Then he broke the connection to grab my underwear in both hands and yank them down my legs. I only had a second of self-consciousness about my pronounced hipbones and bony knees before he spoke, reassuring me with two words.

“Holy hell.” He groaned when he realized that my legs weren’t the only thing I waxed. “You’re going to kill me.”

“You’re lucky, I just had my appointment last week. If you would have come here sooner . . .” I shook my head in mock seriousness and giggled as his face lit up with humor.

What was this guy doing to me? I wasn’t a giggler. Ever.

He growled and pounced on me as I howled with laughter, and I felt as if I were floating. Sex had never been fun for me before. It wasn’t that I’d never liked it, but with every other guy I’d been with, I hadn’t felt comfortable enough to let my guard down. It was serious business, sometimes frantic, other times slow and sultry, but never once in the years I’d been having sex had it ever been fun.

As I tried to crab walk away from him, he caught me by swooping down to pull my nipple into his mouth, and we both groaned as my back arched off the bed. I wrapped my hands around the back of his head, my knees gripping his sides as he moved back and forth, alternately kissing and sucking, pausing occasionally to detour to one of my ladybugs. Then he met my eyes with a wicked grin and leaned down to suck as much of my breast as he could into his mouth as his fingers slid between my legs.

The dual sensations had me scrambling as I tried to decide which to focus on, but as his fingers slid into me and his mouth popped off my breast, the decision was made.

“Condoms?” he asked desperately as his thumb started circling my clit while his fingers pumped slowly in and out.

Could your eyes really roll back into your head, or did they just feel that way? I couldn’t figure out why he was bothering me as I chased my orgasm. Didn’t he see I was busy?

“Condoms, Ladybug. Where are your condoms?”

I looked at him stupidly for a moment as his hand went still, then finally figured out what he was yapping about.

“I don’t have any.”

“What?” he practically yelled.

“Shut it!” I whispered back, afraid he was going to have Gram storming over from her apartment for the second time that night. “I don’t have any! I don’t have sex.”

“W-what?” he sputtered as he wiggled his fingers inside me. “My fingers would beg to differ, sweetheart.”

“I haven’t had sex in over a year,” I mumbled back. “Drunken hookups are pretty much nonexistent when you aren’t partying anymore.”

“Goddamn it.” He groaned, dropping his forehead to my chest. “I haven’t had sex in fucking months.”

“Oh, poor you,” I said sarcastically, the thought of him having sex with anyone else pissing me right the hell off.

My irritation was almost instantly forgotten as his fingers began to move slowly, as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it, hitting the perfect spot inside me to have me crawling out of my skin. I whimpered deep in my throat and his head snapped up, his nostrils flaring as he took in my flushed face and clenched jaw.

“Fuck it. I’m clean,” he muttered frantically, pulling his fingers from me to yank down his boxer briefs. “Please tell me you’re clean and on the pill.”

“I’m clean,” I answered, staring at the V leading down to his thick cock, the hair trimmed short around it. “I can’t get pregnant.”

He reached out to spread my knees wide, and ran his finger lightly from top to bottom before looking back up.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t had a period in years, but there’s nothing wrong.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “The doctors say I don’t have enough body fat and it’s messing with my cycle.”

He watched me for a moment, his jaw tight, before dropping his hips to fit between my thighs.

“I’ll buy condoms tomorrow,” he assured me in a low voice, his hand cupping the side of my face gently. “But I can’t wait.”