Repeat(55)

“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 being reasonable.

“Does it bother you that I’m not that pretty girl wearing floral prints who wants to have polite sex anymore?” I ask. “Because if that’s going to be an ongoing problem, we should probably talk about it now.”

His gaze cuts to me. “Clem. We did not have polite sex.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Very,” the word is ground out in such a way that it might never recover. Finally, he tips his chin. “You’re driving me crazy on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I rise from the chair, walking over to him and slipping my arms around his waist. “Ed, I won’t tolerate you thinking you’re some kind of bully or that I’m a delicate little flower. That isn’t fair to either of us, is it? Last night was special to me and I won’t allow it to be turned into something wrong or shameful because in retrospect you’re maybe a little uncomfortable with some elements.”

“We didn’t used to have polite sex,” he grumbles because masculine pride clearly takes precedence over working on our relationship. Next his shoulders slump, hands sliding down my back, holding me to him. The worst of the fight is over.

“Whatever you say. But if we both like things a little different now, is that really such a problem? I don’t want you second-guessing every thought and holding back. I like us the way we are now.”

He wraps me up in his arms, holding on tight. Ever so gently, he kisses the mark on my neck. “You’ll tell me if you ever want me to stop or if you need things to calm down?”

“Absolutely.”



*



“You had a fight about how rough you like sex?”

I shrug. “Well, yeah. Basically.”

“Kinky,” says Frances, the whites of her eyes on display. It’s late in the afternoon and she’s sitting on the couch in Braun’s Books eating some of the gelato Antonio brought around earlier. Ed was right about me hating coconut. The whole taste and texture of it is just gross. Hazelnut gelato, however, is awesome. You learn something new every day. Frances took me to my doctor’s appointment earlier. Despite the fact I could have easily gone on my own and all she did was sit in the waiting room. Pretty sure her and Ed are still texting behind my back, swapping babysitting duties so that I’m never alone. Still, it’s nice to get some sibling time.