Page 44 of Fear Me Not

A cramp suddenly grips my belly, and I wince and hunch over, willing it away.

His eyes darken with concern. “Are you in pain?”

“Just a little cramping. It’ll pass.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? I’ve heard an orgasm can help with period cramps.”

I raise a sardonic eyebrow at him. “Is that right?”

A small smile touches his mouth, and for a moment it’s like I’ve got the old Blake back again, the man I adored and admired.

I draw breath and shake my head, reminding myself I don’t think of him that way anymore. “Besides, I’m bleeding.”

“I don’t care about a little blood, Pen.”

“It’s hardly a little.”

“You know what I mean. I know women have periods. I’m not a boy who doesn’t understand or who gets grossed out by such things. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. If you think period sex puts me off, you’d be wrong.”

“So, like, you’d be doing me a favor. Farming yourself out purely to help me feel better.”

“I’ve always been generous like that.”

He’s being playful, and I can’t help but be attracted by this side of him. “So you and your magic dick are going to heal my cramps.”

“If you’ll let us?”

That familiar coil of arousal tightens between my legs. Sex with Blake is definitely a more attractive option than curling up on my side on my own and feeling sorry for myself.

I glance over at the bed. “I don’t want to make a mess of the sheets again.”

“Let’s take it into the shower.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me into the bathroom. I should tell him that I don’t want him and to leave me alone, but he makes me weak. Besides, I’m still wobbly from my strange experience in the basement, and I want to feel something other than fear. I remember how he told me that us being together reminds us that we’re still alive. We’re still a part of the real world. I need that now, that reminder that I’m real, though recently I’ve felt like I’m clinging on by my nails.

Blake kisses me, gently at first, as though testing the waters. He pauses and stares into my eyes, silently questioning if I want this. I hesitate, but he’s like a drug to me, and now I’ve been given a taste, I can’t stop. I kiss him back, tentative, but then hungrily, and he pulls at my clothes, yanking my sweater over my head. I fumble for his t-shirt, wanting him naked. I’ve missed the feel of his solid, strong body so much.

The sink is directly behind me, and he lifts me onto it, my ass on the porcelain, and I wrap my legs around his hips. He breaks away, both of us breathing hard, and he cups my face.

“It is you, isn’t it? It’s really you?”

I’m not sure what he means, but I nod. “Yes, it’s me.” Perhaps he needs the same reminder.

He lifts me again to pull down my panties, but then I remember something.

“Wait, I’m wearing a tampon.” Mortification washes over me.

“I can deal with that.”

He reaches between my thighs, finds the string, and I feel a tugging inside me as he pulls it out.

“Oh, my God, Blake.” I hide my face against his shoulder.

He tosses it in the trash. “If I can put things inside you, I can sure as hell take them out again.”

His thick finger replaces the tampon, and I cling to his shoulder and gasp.

“Does that feel better?” he asks, pumping his finger in and out of me.