“Does it bother you?” she asks, lowering her voice as she raises her hands. “Knowing he taught me first? That I had him first?” “Not at all, since I have him now.” I swallow the sour jealousy that rises with the burn of bile in my throat. “Really?” She jabs, and I weave. “The thought that I know what he tastes like?” She throws another combination that I block, then retreats as if it was nothing but a test. “How his weight feels above me?”
