Page 68 of The Opposite of Romance
“Yeah, sorry, but I’m starving, and I didn’t know when you would wake up.” His smirk is teasing.
“I can’t remember the last time I slept so much. But you didn’t have to stay.”
His eyes widen and flash with something I don’t quite recognize. “I didn’t get my work done yesterday, so I figured I could do it now, before I get out of your hair.” His voice has an edge to it now, and he turns away from me, focusing back on the breakfast.
I help him serve the plates with food and set them on the table, but there are no more easy smiles and crinkled eyes. The silence we eat in is almost loud, so I try to break it. “Thanks for the breakfast. It’s delicious.”
And it is. In the twelve years we were together, David never made me breakfast. If I slept in, he’d make one for himself and eat it before I woke up, using the excuse of not wanting mine to get cold.
Still, the awkward silence is familiar. And I hate it.
He simply dips his head.
Unease sets in my stomach, my body craving to escape the situation. It’s what I blame for my mouth blurting out, “Told you sex while having to work together wasn’t a good idea.”
He laughs at that. A deep, resonating laugh that overtakes his handsome face. “You did,” he agrees. “But I’m still glad it happened.” He winks, and the knot in my belly turns to butterflies.
“Yeah. Me, too,” I admit, staring at my plate.
“I wanted to make sure … you were alright. Last night was intense.”
“Oh.” That makes sense. After all, I write aftercare into every single book of mine. “I think I’m more than alright.” I give him a shy smile before dropping my gaze back to the food.
“Yeah, I guess you’re not new to the whole thing.”
“What thing?” My brows furrow.
“I don’t know, the rough sex thing.”
“Why would you think that?”
His shoulders rise, apology written in his eyes. “Erm, your books. They are pretty graphic.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean any of that stuff is real. Matter of fact, this was the first time … well, the second time I did anything like that…”
“Wait, you read my books?” I add, at the same time he blurts, his voice laced with shock: “First time?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not a virgin. I think that’s obvious.” My eyes point to Liv’s and Asher’s portrait that hangs on the wall. “But I never did anything … kinky. Back to my question. You read my books?”
“I’ve skimmed a few. I met a cool as fuck, sexy author that writes cool as fuck, sexy books. Of course I’m going to take a look.”
My mouth parts into a silent ‘oh’ as my insides turn to mush.
“Back to the important part.” He points a fork at me. “You never did anything similar? Fuck,” He mutters to himself. “I was way too rough. I hadn’t checked. Fucking idiot.”
“Look, Logan. I wanted it.” My voice is louder now, to snap him out of his thoughts. “I wanted it like that. Hard and rough.” I beg my cheeks not to betray me by flushing.
“I didn’t really give you a choice, didn’t I? Besides, if you wanted rough sex, you wouldn’t wait so many years for that.”
“You seem to forget I was literally begging for it. And who said I hadn’t wanted it before?” I’m getting pissed off now.
“Because this wouldn’t be the first time, then. You’re telling me youwantedto get fucked like that and you didn’t get it?” He scoffs.
“Yes. I’m telling you exactly that. I hadn’t even had sex in three fucking years.”
His nostrils flare, his confusion turning to rage. “You were married just a few months ago, and you didn’t have sex in three years? Even before that, you wanted to feel someone fuck you into oblivion and he wasn’t even able to do that? Able to show you how crazy you made him?” His knuckles are white around the knife and fork he’s gripping with brutal force.
“I-I didn’t make him crazy,” I whisper.
