AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After that was taken care of, they stood in the hallway outside the bathroom. She pulled her shirt down and rearranged her breasts in her bra. The light was on in the hallway and he got a good look at the finger-shaped marks he’d put on her neck. Fuck.
He felt ill.
Maybe he was going to vomit? No, better not, not while they were handcuffed together.
“What?” she said.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, and his voice wasn’t strong.
“What?” she said.
“You… I think you’re going to have bruises,” he told the floor.
She tugged him back into the bathroom, put the light on in there, and leaned over the sink, gingerly touching herself with her free hand. “It doesn’t hurt. I bruise easy. It’s an iron thing. I’m supposed to take supplements, but then I forget. And then I get my bloodwork done, and—”
“Why did you ask me to do that?”
“I didn’t ask you to choke me,” she said, turning to face him. “I mean, I didn’t mind.” She gave him a coy little grin.
“You’re into that.” His voice was flat.
“What’s that tone? I’d say you are, too.”
He looked up at the ceiling, his throat tightening. He felt like he might cry. The shame of it.
“Decker?” She put her hand on his chest, her voice soft. “What?”
“I’m not into that,” he said, looking down at her.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Well, I’m sorry, then. I didn’t mean to push you or to be… I guess I got carried away.”
“We both did,” he said. He turned and left the bathroom, dragging her along behind him. Back in the bedroom, he found her pants and underwear and socks and waited while she got dressed, sitting on the bed. He tried again to know how to talk about it, and couldn’t seem to find words. What came out was, “Why are you into it? Why would you possibly be into it?”
She shied from his tone. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t… I wouldn’t… I guess there’s nothing at all compatible about us, Decker.”
“I don’t mean it like that,” he snapped. “I just mean, it hurt you, so—”
“It really didn’t hurt, I told you.” She glared at him. “It doesn’t hurt now.”
“Why would you want someone who derived sexual pleasure from hurting you?”
“I mean, I don’t think I do!” Her voice was rising.
“I feel like a fucking wife-batterer.”
“We’re not married.”
“And I feel like you’re making excuses for me—”
“Let’s stop talking about this,” she said. “And let’s never have sex again. Let’s just get these fucking handcuffs off. Tangles and briars, these are the worst two consecutive nights of my entire life.”
He flinched.
She sat down on the bed. Her lower lip was trembling.
Briars, he made her cry. He bruised her, and then he made her cry. He couldn’t look at her.
“Would you get dressed?” she said in a tight voice.
