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“Hmm,” I try to ignore his strange behavior as I select the plate with the waffle on it and top it with a bunch of strawberries, “do you have orange juice?”
“That we do.” He kisses the top of my head again, then grabs a glass from the cupboard beside me.
While he fills my cup, I pile a few strips of bacon on my plate, then make my way to the island. Easing on the stool beside his laptop, I grab one of the slightly floppy slices and take a large bite. He slides my drink over to me, then settles on the stool beside me. Before I’ve even finished chewing my first bite, I’m squirming in my seat.The pad on the leather stool does nothing, it’s like sitting on a metal meat cleaver after scooting around on sandpaper for an hour.
I stand up, then carefully ease back onto the stool a little farther back. It doesn’t help the dull ache. I try shifting my weight to one side. No help there, either.
“Come here.” Breckin states.
“Huh?” I glance over at him, holding my piece of bacon up to my mouth.
He pats his lap, then slides his laptop back and scoots my plate over to his spot. “My lap’s a lot softer than that stool.”
I roll my eyes, but smile as I slide off my hard seat, bacon still in hand.
Picking me up from my waist like I weigh no more than a stuffed toy, he sets me on his lap like I’m a crystal statue.
Leaning back against him, I relax in his lap. I finish my bacon in silence, then grab my fork.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear as I slide the plate closer, “are you sure you’re just a little sore?”
I bite my bottom lip, fork hovering over my waffle.
“Asra,” he continues, “I saw the cloth Brendan used to clean you up last night. There was blood on it.”
I blink. I couldn’t have started my period. I haven’t had one of those in years. Not since I got my IUD. Besides, wouldn’t I have felt something this morning? “I . . . I haven’t had a period in years. I –”
He shakes his head. “It didn’t come from there.”
“Oh.” I drop my fork.
“Sweetheart, if we hurt you –”
“You didn’t,” I interrupt. “I’m fine. Just a little sore.”
“There was blood, Asra. And not just a drop or two. You should have told us we were too rough. Honey,” he hugs me tighter, “we would have stopped.”
“No.” I twist until I can see his pained face, ignoring the discomfort. “I wanted last night.” Cupping his smooth chin, I keep talking. “Last night was amazing.” Forget amazing, it was the best sex of my life. “I wanted it. All of it. It was just my first time, and I didn’t –”
“Wait. First time with two guys or first time doing anal?”
I bite the inside of my cheek before squeaking a response. “Both.”
“Fuck.” His head falls against mine as he seems to deflate. “Sweetheart, you should have told us.”
I shrug. “I told Brendan.”
“You should have told us both.”
“I thought you two had your little, twin magic thing going on.” I wave my hand in a circle, not quite understanding what the big deal is.
He laughs. “It doesn’t work like that. But next time, will you please tell us if anything hurts at all?”
“So there’s going to be a next time?” My eyes light up.
“Not for a bit.”
I pout. Bottom lip out, shoulders sagging, pout. It’s childish, but I don’t care.
