"Yeah, you don't want to keep your breakfast waiting," she said, encouraging Eric to release her. But Amber undercut her own words by nestling against him, exposing more of herself to his touch by tilting her neck. He pulled harder at her arms and she felt her muscles being elongated, a work-out by proxy. She'd have to stretch afterward to make sure she didn't wind up sore-- needed to be in prime form for their basketball game-- but for now she was content to lie on Eric, oddly snug and satisfied as if she'd just come. Shouldn't they be getting rowdy now? Why didn't she feel like getting the upper hand by rubbing against him to turn him on, why hadn’t he started to kiss her? They were attracted to each other, they hadn’t had sex yet today, and here they were, together in bed, with full physical contact, and just… holding each other, relaxing. As if this were enough. Crazy.

"Of course," Amber said earnestly. Actually, whenever she made her brothers eat dirt, face against the ground, only their screams and promises to behave convinced her to let them go. Good times. "Not that I ever sat on them. I was a very good sister, very kind." She rose and fell with his every breath. Amber shifted, growing uncomfortable. Eric's body was not the most ergonomic of surfaces. "I bet you were just as benevolent with your brother." Amber reflected Eric's question, remembering only belatedly that asking it of him was not playful. Great. She’d probably poisoned the moment. It was his fault, for having a stupid family.