Page 173 of Bend
"I said stop!" I screamed as loudly as possible. "I want you out of me and out of here!" I yelled into his left ear.
"Fuckin' bitch," he growled, fisting my hair so that my head snapped back.
I thrashed around underneath him, my legs getting twisted up in the sheets, my fists pummeling against his bare chest.
"I said get off of me," I shouted.
Suddenly, I heard my bedroom door open and slam loudly against the wall, startling Trevor enough that his unwelcome thrusting stopped.
In seconds flat, his weight was lifted off of me, and he was slammed unceremoniously against my bedroom wall, where he slid the rest of the way down into a naked heap on the floor.
It was Cain. He was pissed…dark eyes flashing, his fists clenched at his side.
“You have about two fucking seconds to get the fuck out of here,” Cain growled out the quiet threat, “Before I reinvent the term, blue balls. Got me?”
Eli was there now as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and wearing nothing but cotton sweats and a concrete look of concern.
I scurried out of the bed, gripping the white sheets around my scantily-clad form and watched as Trevor ineptly got to his feet with no sheet and a deflated hard-on.
Eli, now entirely awake, helped him find his clothes by tossing them at him. And if denim could ever give a person a black eye, I’m pretty sure that’s what they did as Trevor not-so-successfully tried to catch his pants.
I watched as Eli gripped Trevor’s arm just as he was zipping up and began to lead him out of the room.
“Get the fuck off me, fag!” Trevor wrenched his arm free.
“Yeah…,” I heard Eli reply as he shoved Trevor through the open door, “Not goin’ to happen, asshole.”
Their heavy steps down the stairs and Trevor’s drunken insults were the only sound in the 2 a.m. house as I stood there still staring at the door, trying to process the rapid chain of events that just went down.
Hoooly shit!
I looked over at the other person in the room, “Cain, I’m so sor—”
“Give me a minute.” He cut me off, not even looking in my direction as his hands were settled on his hips, and he sucked in a deep breath, looking down at the floor.
My mouth immediately closed. I had never heard Cain yell, and never even once saw the guy lose his shit. So, the fact that he was looking a little like the Hulk standing there in his Metallica T-shirt and black-striped PJ bottom
s, meant I’m pretty sure I would've given him the entire night to get his cool mojo back.
He looked up, and pinned me down with his dark eyes and a black look. Instantly, I shifted my sheet up a little higher. His eyes followed the movement, and I saw his jaw clench.
“That’s not going to help,” Cain said, warningly.
I shrugged, “Look, it’s not that big of a deal.”
He responded by giving me one hell of a wry look before asking, “Is this what you do?”
I stood up a bit straighter, “Excuse me?”
“Take guys home. Let them fuck you in your own bedroom, even when you tell them no,” he deadpanned. “Is this what you do?”
“No!” I exclaimed. What the hell was he talking about?
“Then what just happened,” he took a step towards me, “is a big fucking deal, Paige.”
“He just got carried away. I would have handled it,” I told him, probably trying to convince the both of us.
Cain was about a foot from where I was standing now, and he was just about to take another step forward when Eli came walking in.
