Xavier seems completely unperturbed by anything. He whips open the towel and starts drying me, calm as can be.
Oh my God, sometimes he’s so placid I could just scream! Is he not… you know, interested, because I’m on my period?
My mouth drops open to ask but then I clamp it shut. What am I really going to say? He’s the enemy, remember?
Holy crap, it’s already happening. I’m getting brainwashed. I was just about to whine to the man basically holding me captive because he’s not keeping up his campaign of sexual manipulation.
I squeeze my eyes shut as he runs the fluffy towel between my legs, spending what seems like an inordinate amount of time making sure I’m dry there.
And the unwanted thought pops in: but seriously though, is he like grossed out because of my period?
Ugh, shut up brain!
Because if he is, then he totally shouldn’t be all up in there volunteering for tampon duty.
“I’m really tired,” I announce, stepping forward and taking the towel out of Xavier’s hands to wrap around myself. “Can we go to bed now?”
He looks briefly startled at my quick motion but the next second seems amused by me.
God, I hate it when he’s like that. When he gives off this aura that he knows exactly what’s going on in my head and he’s laughing at me.
I turn on my heel and stomp toward the bedroom. I swear I hear him chuckle behind me which makes me even more infuriated.
I know he likes me to leave my wet towel on a peg near the head of the bed, but instead I drop it on the floor and slide underneath the covers. Then I cringe and pull the sheet tight around myself. God, Mel, are you trying to get him to react? What the fuck is wrong with you?
I jump out of bed and hang the towel up.
Which Xavier naturally observes from the bathroom door. I pretend I don’t see him as I get back into bed. Covers pulled high, I turn on my side. Facing the half of the room away from his side of the bed.
Oh my God, we have sides of the bed. Like an old married couple. No, not like that. Nothing like that. At all.
In fact, I’ll just scoot to the middle of the bed. There. See? No sides. Ha.
But… maybe he’ll think I’m trying to initiate something with him.
Which I am not.
I wiggle back over to my side.
I scrupulously do not look over at him to see what he might think of all these odd acrobatics.
I settle in and freeze in place. Nothing to see here. I’ve fallen asleep. Just like that. I’ve suddenly mastered the art of falling asleep in zero point two seconds. I try to regulate my breaths.
Totally convincing.
The light flips off.
Ha. Completely pulled it off.
The bed dips with Xavier’s weight.
I hold my breath. No, damn it, don’t hold your breath. Regular—in, out, in, out.
A big, muscled arm snakes around me and he pulls me so that I’m sandwiched against his body. “You sure are damn cute, precious.”
Precious.
Not pet.
My eyes are already shut but I squeeze them tight at the swell of emotion his simple words elicit.
He’s hard against my backside.
I wait for him to start touching me.
I wait for something.
Precious.
His chest moves up and down behind me and within several minutes, there’s only the light sound of his quiet snores filling the room.
But for me, sleep is a long time in coming.
Fourteen
I continue my riding lessons.
And Xavier continues not touching me at night.
Well, of course, he’s Xavier, so a day doesn’t pass without him having his hands all over me.
But no intimate touches.
No more orgasms.
It’s because of the period. It’s got to be. He has some weird hang up about it. And I’m too chicken shit to ask him to explain. And anyway, I’m happy about the new order of things. I never wanted him touching me. This is all a good thing, dammit.
It’s just the not knowing that’s driving me crazy, that’s all. That’s the only reason I’m glad when my period peters off.
Right?
Right, Mel, you just keep telling yourself that.
Okay, so let’s just ignore that snarky bitch who runs around inside my head sometimes trying to tell me inconvenient truths. She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.
Anyway, Xavier’s more than aware when I’m all done with the crimson tide. To my eternal mortification, he hasn’t let one opportunity pass to change out my tampons—seriously, wtf? But whatever, it just means he’s perfectly informed when I’m back in ship-shape order.
That night, baths resume instead of the shower.
He goes back to a more extensive massage, welcome after my week of more and more strenuous outings on Sugar, and then Pioneer. Xavier likes to take Samson out for our daily ride and it’s safer for me to be riding Pioneer since he’s a gelding.