He has ruined me! What kind of woman has an orgasm, albeit not the best I’ve had recently, but still, Sebastian made mee on the table in ssst night and I walked away feeling like I wanted more? My body, which is still heal- ing, felt disappointed that I was only getting one mediocre orgasm. What the hell is wrong with me?


    Sebastian Webb, that’s what’s wrong with me.


    I swear my traitor of a pussy was practically weeping for me to go knock on his door and ask for more. And what’s worse? The orgasm I gave myself wasn’t nearly as good as his! What the hell? I’ve been responsible for my own or- gasms for over a decade and now, one Alpha has unlocked the key to the best fucking orgasms of my life, and I can’tpete? Something is very wrong here. Because I don’t have a better excuse, I’m chalking <b>it </b>up to being injured.


    I huff as I get out of bed, feeling the stiffness in my hip immediately. Shit, no running today. I get dressed then strip my sheets and nkets off the bed, putting them in aundry bag. Then, I grab myundry basket and begin limping my way downstairs. I’ve just gotten my clothes sorted and started along with my sheets and nkets when Tyler and Ezra walk in with theirundry baskets.


    “Oh thank the goddess we didn’t miss you,” Tyler says, setting hisundry basket on a washing machine.


    “I second that,” Ezra says. Both men look like they rushed down here. Tyler looks like he ran his fingers through his hair to try and tame it quickly and Ezra is wearing a ball cap.


    “Okay, what do you two know aboutundry?” I ask them


    They stare at me, look at each other, then look back.


    “Nothing,” they <b>say </b>in unison.


    “Okay, we’ll start with basics. These are washing machines. These are dryers,” I say, pointing as I go. “Normally, your omegas would separate your whites from your colors so they can bleach your whites. But, if you don’t want to use bleach and you don’t have anything that will bleed color, you can wash all your clothes together.”


    “That sounds good,” Ezra says, picking a washing machine and dumping all of his clothes into it.


    “Which is better?” Tyler asks.


    “It’s a matter of preference, <b>I’d </b>say, or how dirty your whites are.”


    Tyler looks thoughtful for a moment then begins separating his clothes. “I’ll try it the omega–way at least once so I know what they have to do.”


    “Aw, shit. That’s a good idea,” Ezra says, looking into his washing machine.


    “<b>If </b>you’re going to do it, now’s the time,” I tell him.


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    He looks at theundry a bit longer. “Nah, I’ll leave it. I have several more weeks to try the omega–way of doingundry.”


    “I’m here!” Liam says, rushing in with his clothes practically falling out of the basket he’s carrying.


    “Quick catch up,” I say while Tyler is separating his clothes. “Washers, dryers. If you want to separate your clothes so you can bleach your whites, pick two washers and do that now,” I tell him.


    “Okay.”


    He, like Ezra, dumps his clothes into one washer.


    “Up here, you have detergent, that’s what gets your clothes clean, and you have bleach, which gets your whites white. Detergent can just be added to the washing machine using the measuring cap, but there’s a spot here for bleach,” I say, pointing to it in one of the washers.


    “Once you’re done, you’ll close the lid, the machine won’t turn on if the lid is up. Close the lid, turn on the machine. here, then chose your cycle. Permanent press is your mostmon cycle, heavy would be something you’d use for your winter clothes, bedding is as it says, used for your bedding. None of you brought your sheets and nkets down, but I’d suggest you don’t go longer than two weeks without washing them. If the instructors start to get a whiff of body odoring out of your rooms, they’ll say something. If you have any delicate clothes that would tear easily, they would go on the delicate cycle. When you wash your whites with bleach, you’ll want to make sure your water temperature is hot. Otherwise, use warm or cold so your clothes don’t shrink. Questions?”


    I watch as Tyler adds detergent to both of his loads, then watch him with the bleach before checking on the other two again.


    “If you don’t have any more questions, I’m going,” I say, starting to walk out.


    “Christina, you can’t possibly run. Your bruise still looks awful and you’re limping,” Ezra says as we walk out.


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