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I kissed her again; squeezed her tighter against my body.
“Please,” she gasped, “take me inside.”
I got up quickly, her legs straddling my waist; her bottom filled the palms of my hands beneath her short dress, and I carried her inside.
“You have to promise me you’re not sore,” I said, and kissed her hungrily.
“No,” she said with a gasp, and her hands dug into my hair, her fingers pulling it. “I’m not sore and I’m not bleeding—is that why you haven’t touched me since that night?”—(another kiss, hungry and fiery)—“because I was sore and bleeding?”
I was on top of her before I knew I was even in the room.
“Yes,” I said, my mouth opening against hers; a hand moved up her dress.
Thais broke the kiss, and she gazed into my eyes.
“Did it bother you?” she asked, worried. “The blood, I mean?”
“No, love”—I dipped my head and kissed her again, and again—“it didn’t bother me at all”—I kissed her lips and her cheeks and her eyelids and her chin—“I don’t care about that stuff.”
(My breath was quick and eager; the tug between my legs made my eyes tingle and close.)
She looked so angelic with her head against the mattress, her long hair splayed out in waves around her. And God, I wanted her.
“I haven’t been bleeding at all since that night,” she said then. “It was the strangest thing.”
Something clicked inside my brain, and my body froze on top of her.
“What’s wrong?” Thais looked up at me askance, tilting her head against the mattress, her hands on the sides of my neck. “Atticus—”
What did she just say?
“What did you just say?”
My breath became heavier, suffocating me; I stopped blinking; my heart felt like a fist was collapsing around it, crushing the beat out of it slowly.
(Confused, I wasn’t sure of his question. Why is he being so strange? Did I say something wrong?)
“Atticus, I…I’m not sure what you mean.”
Her hands fell away from my neck; she moved them down my arms as they held my weight up above her. “Are you okay?”
I moved off of her and sat upright on the bed.
She sat up, too. She reached out and touched my shoulder.
“You said you only bled that night?”
“Yes.”
I looked over at her.
“I take it bleeding for one night isn’t normal for you?”
THAIS
The question was biting, and I felt it. I just didn’t understand it.
My eyebrows drew together; I kissed his shoulder—maybe that would calm him down? Why did I feel the need to calm him down?
