Page 67 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

“Really?”

“You do that all the time. I thought you were flirting with me for a week when I started here. Then I saw you do it to everyone. You have a very animated face.”

“I do?”

“It’s sweet. I like it.”

“Oh man. Does everyone think I’m flirting with them?” When he didn’t reply, I set my tea aside and dropped back into my pillows, arms raised to cover my face. “If you need me, I’m in the backyard. I’m going to go ahead and bury myself alive.”

“Come here.” The mattress dipped further as he scooted up to pull at my arms. “Come on, make your fluttery eyes at me.”

“No,” I moaned, “I don’t even do it on purpose.”

“Please,” he chuckled.

That sound got to me, pulling at the strings in my chest. I lowered my arms only to find him hovering over me. My breath stuttered in my throat, my entire vision suddenly taken up by the calming green of his eyes.

“Like this?” I asked and tried to bat my eyelashes like I wanted something.

“God, you’re cute.” He crushed his lips over mine. I jerked back, hand on his shoulders to get some distance between us. He’d kissed me. Victor had just put his lips to my lips after calling me cute. Very much a kiss and not an emergency mouth-to-mouth.

“What was that?” Three days ago he had been adamant that my birthday had been a selfish mistake, that he still needed some time. I could take the blow job out of that equation because that had been different. I’d wanted to make him feel physically better and I’d just been so angry, and somehow that had helped.

“What can I say? Fluttery eyes work for me.”

“Would you go down on me every single day if I made fluttery eyes at you?” I asked, recalling Tabitha’s words.

“Cordelia, you just have to say the word if you want my head between your legs. No fluttery eyes needed.” He grazed his lips over mine, not a kiss, just his mouth skimming mine. “Do you want me to eat you out?”

“Uh, no. Actually. Not when your face is all bruised like this.”

“Do you have anything else you want to try?” His fingertips skimmed down my neck and over the hickey, and I sighed at the featherlight touch to my collarbone. He followed the lacy neckline of my camisole, sloping down, down, down…

“Ow.” A burst of dull pain had me shrinking back from him. “Shit. No. Thanks,” I gasped.

“You’re hurt.” His hand snapped back, his brows furrowed. The angry line above his nose deepened as if I’d kept a vital secret from him.

“No, I’m in pain. There’s a difference.”

“Why are you in pain?”

“Uhm…” My skin suddenly felt too tight around my muscles.

“Cordelia?”

“Kind of- well- so, it’s not-” I slapped my hands into my cheeks, trying to get my thoughts in line, and when that didn’t work, I dug my nails in. “It’s because my period is due tomorrow.”

“I know.” Victor gently pulled my hands off my face, holding them in his, and chuckled at my raised brows. “Zhizn’ moya, I’m the one who stocks up your tampons and Rocky Road half the time because you don’t put them on the shopping list until you’ve run out. We only get groceries twice a week. I take care of it when it needs to be quick.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t known that.

“Your breasts hurt because you’re getting your period?”

“Yeah. They’re swollen and every bra is too tight and my boobs feel like they’re about to burst.”

“Is that normal?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “some people say that it might get better if I ever have a baby and try breastfeeding, but you know…”

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