Bend - Bromberg K. (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗

"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 bottoms, 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.

“Okay, the trash has officially been taken out,” he announced, a bit ceremoniously.

Cain shook his head and began to retreat towards the door, but not before tossing back the words, “We’ll talk in the morning, Paige.”

I looked over at Eli for help. But he had nothing to give me except for, “Yeah, you fucked up.” He made his way over to an exit from this overly dramatic scene, “Bad.”

And with that, the door closed.

This…wasn’t good.

I felt as if I were back in junior high school.

Perched on a kitchen chair, Eli leaning back against the counter, arms crossed staring at me, while Cain was standing in front of me, hands once again on his hips, sort of glaring, while they both took turns verbally laying out the ground rules to me.

“Last night can’t happen again,” Cain started off, leaning in a bit to make sure I knew that he was dead-ass serious.

"Yes," I nodded, putting a bit of meekness into my voice for sincerity.

“Jesus, Paige, what was that?” Eli quipped in.

I met Cain’s gaze before focusing all of my attention onto Eli. Yeah, I already knew that my day was shot. Waking up to these two and having to go through drinking my coffee in utter silence was definitely not my idea of starting out a good day.

What really put the emphasis on the whole morning suckage, was the fact that I didn’t have an answer for either of them.

Should I have brought Trevor back here last night? Probably not.

Did I possibly have way too much to drink last night? Probably yes.

What would have happened if Cain and Eli didn’t come in with their super-dude capes? I didn’t even want to think about the answer to that one.

“Paige?” Eli said my name again, trying to regain my focus on the issue at hand.

“I get it,” I told the both of them, crossing my arms and probably coming off as a petulant child.

But, shit! These guys held all the cards right now, and this could all play out in a million ways. And I damn well wasn’t going to gamble by giving them an answer I wasn’t sure about.

Another moment of silence.

Clearly, when they saw I wasn’t going to give them the speech about how last night happened and why, Eli switched tactics. “It’s not about the sex.”

What?

“It’s about judging character,” Eli continued.

“Uhh…well, if you’re saying that I should have seen what happened coming, then—”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Eli deadpanned.

Okay. I was struggling with the decision of either giving him a WTF? look…or the finger. Because I, honest to God, didn’t know how in the hell I could have possibly known that Trevor was going to go all “The Accused” on me.

“Okay,” I said, getting up from the chair. “If you guys are seriously trying to convey that I asked for that last night, then screw you both.”

I started to walk off when I felt a hand on my arm. Turning around, prepared to give one hell of a verbal lashing, I was surprised to see that it was Cain who had the vise-like hold on me.

“That’s not what he’s saying,” Cain explained, meeting my gaze. I looked down to where he was holding me, and he let go.

“Then what is he saying?” I didn’t even spare Eli a glance as I kept my eyes padlocked to Cain’s.

“He’s saying that you should always pick someone who…takes care of you.” Cain took a step back, now looking over at Eli, who was nodding his head.

“I don’t follow.”

Eli tossed the remains of what was in his coffee cup into the sink before turning around to face me.

“Trevor Mulroney always has a breath mint and at least six condoms at hand. He doesn’t give two shits about the women he sleeps with, because all he can think about is getting some. I mean, the guy doesn’t even care if the women he’s sleeping with get off. It might as well be rape even if it is consensual because they're just a breathing pocket-pussy as far as he's concerned. Something to use."

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” I asked, my eyes darting between them both. Although in all honesty, wasn't that exactly what I'd gone after? I was used to being used; I was used to using right back. For whatever reason, I sucked at cultivating relationships. Being "used" was my comfort zone.