AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She nods, and he smacks her again.
I cover my mouth with Bamsy to hide my gasp. I’ve seen this in porn, and I know about BDSM and kink play, but I wasn’t sure if people hit each other during vanilla sex in real life. Amber never mentions being smacked, and she’s quite graphic when telling me about her hookups. The men I’ve been with never hit me, but those encounters were quick and mostly awkward. Is it normal for men to hit women while fucking? Porn makes it seem that way, but the thought always unnerved me.
I don’t want any romantic love if it involves getting hit.
Troy wraps his hands around Candy’s throat and squeezes. Her moans get louder and more strangled. He thrusts harder. “Come for me, you dirty slut,” he says as Candy’s body shakes and her eyes roll back in her head.
I can’t watch anymore. I run to my room and close the door carefully so they don’t hear. I press Bamsy into my cheek with one hand, the other clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing, as I pace around the small space.
He choked her.
I hurry back to the door to make sure it’s locked. It is. I grab Brody’s free weights, the ones I can carry, and make a small pile in front of the door in case Troy can break the lock. He looks strong enough to do that. I pace more. The pressure in my body builds.
He choked her. Choke choke choke. Choked. Choked. Choked.
I’ve seen that in porn, too. Candy looked okay, like she enjoyed it. Like it was consensual. How many men do that in real life? Does Brody choke women during sex? Or smack them?
My mom likes it. That man chokes her. I hear them through the walls. “Yeah. You like being choked, you fucking cunt?”
He choked me once. Not for sex. He told me to stop screaming and smacking my hands against the wall or he’d choke me. He wasn’t lying.
I crawl under the sheets to claw my forehead and cry. Please, no more pressure. I hate full meltdowns. I’ve almost gone a whole month without one. Just cry. Just cry. That will relieve the pressure.
I’m safe in here. No one can get in. I’m safe.
SOMEONE CALLS MY NAME. A man. He’s too distant for me to touch, but I yearn to. I yearn with every part of me to reach out to the man calling my name. I want to take his hand.
“Paige?”
I jolt awake. Was I dreaming?
Someone knocks on the door. “Paige?” The rich baritone tells me it’s Brody.
I sit up and check the time on my phone. I slept the entire evening. There are a few texts from Brody asking about dinner and letting me know he was on his way home. My head throbs when I sit up. Too much crying. I wipe my face and try to smooth my hair before moving the weights from in front of the door.
Fake smile. Sweet smile. I’m perfectly fine. I open the door and face him with sturdy shoulders.
He’s still in his work clothes. He looks me up and down and then glances at a misplaced weight on the floor. “Hey. Everything okay?”
I nod, widening my smile.
“Well, I brought burgers home. Are you hungry?”
No, not really. I feel sick, but I respond,
He nods and turns.
I have to ask. I need to know I’m safe. I’ll be able to tell if he’s lying. Lying men are always too cool and collected. Indifferent. Too sweet and calculated in the way they talk to women. I need to know I’m safe and can still trust him. To relieve the flu in my body. I don’t want to have the flu around Brody. I want to feel secure. Amber said I could trust him, and he was there when I needed help, but what if it’s an act? People’s words are often deceptive.
“Hmm?” he responds, leaning against the door frame.
He staggers back a step, mouth falling open. His brows furrow like he’s angry, and his response is a broken guitar string. “What?”
“No. Fuck no. Why would you ask me that?”
