Repeat - Kylie Scott Page 0,64
rise high. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just when we first started fooling around here on the table you seemed pretty aggressive, I guess. A little edgy and dominant, sort of. Not in a bad way or anything. I liked it a lot.”
On a scale of one to ten, it’s a solid nine and a half of a frown on Ed’s face.
Gordy finishes wolfing down biscuits to come rest his head on my knee. I’m not sure if it’s me or the toast he’s casting longing looks at. Though despite him being a very good dog, it’s probably not me.
“After everything you’ve been through, getting hurt and everything . . .” Ed hangs his head, the frown ramping all the way up to eleven. “I should have been gentler with you. Fuck.”
“You didn’t hurt me, Ed. As I said, I liked it.”
“But that’s not how we are. I don’t get physical with you like that in bed. Not in a way that leaves bruises.”
“Were. That’s not how we were, you mean.”
He pushes back from the table, expression tense.
“Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been changed by everything that happened. We’ve both probably got some things to work through, right?” I ask. “I mean, it just makes sense. But so long as we’re working through them together, does it really matter?”
“Clem, I hurt you.” He gestures at my neck, the movement sharp, agitated. “Are you not getting that?”
Now I’m frowning too. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. The evidence is right there on your skin.”
“No, I’ve been hurt before. I know what that feels like, believe me. This is not it.”
Poor Gordy whines at the tension in our voices, leaning against my leg. I give him a pat. He doesn’t like it when we fight. As for Ed, he just shakes his head, grabbing at the back of his neck. The usual stress pose.
So telling him about the blue thumb-sized bruises on my thighs probably won’t help. A pity—I thought they were pretty. And I’m a little surprised by his reaction. I honestly am. “Have you never left a mark on a woman before? Never had, you know, rough sex?”
“Years ago, maybe. But . . .” He swears under his breath, getting up from the table. “I’m a big guy. I can’t afford to get carried away.”
“You were holding out on me?” I ask, aghast.
“I was not holding out on you.”
“Oh my God.”
His voice is flat and unamused. “Clem, we did not have any problems in bed.”
“Then it’s something new in our relationship. Okay.”
“No. Not okay. Nothing that leaves you black and blue is okay.”
I swallow, thinking it through. “When you talk about this the way you are it makes me feel like I have no say in our sex life. I was more than consenting, both last night and this morning.”
Lines furrow his brow.
“I wonder if with our emotional dynamic being a little different now, that kind of affects how we relate physically as well. Because expressing your feelings regarding our breakup and everything we’ve been through with hot sex that I am fully consenting of is more than okay.” I’ll have to check with Google later. Google knows things.
Meanwhile, still nothing from Ed.
“After all, we can’t expect things to automatically be all nice and neat just because we’re spending time together,” I say. “It’s probably really healthy for us to be working through things like this in bed when you think about it.”
His gaze is distant, shut down. Like he’s already made up his mind and fuck what I think. So maybe it’s time to take this to the next level.
“I liked it when you bit me.”
“Clem . . .”
“And I liked it when you slapped my pussy.”
Hands on hips, he scowls. “We’re not talking about this anymore. I mean it.”
“Being on top the first time was really good. But it was also hot as hell when you held me down the second time and just kind of made me take it, you know?” I shiver again at the thought, smiling not so shyly. “I came so hard I swear I saw stars. Then this morning, waking up with your hand between my legs . . .”
A strangling noise comes from the hallway, followed by his brother saying, “Please make her stop.”
“This is a private discussion,” I snap. “Go away, Leif.”
Some muttering, then the door to the bathroom shuts. Serves him right for eavesdropping. Meanwhile, Ed is still standing there, jaw rigid, worry coming off of him in waves. I’m done with