Heart of Freeman.

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Grayson dragged his fiancée away from the alley as she wrinkled her forehead in bewilderment. She pulled her wrist and massaged it against her chest.
"You guys don't want to play another round?" Dean clenched his fists, fixated on her damaged limb.
Jay got up with wide eyes, pushing the air down with his palms.
"Not today, but we should play again another time," said Allie, keeping the peace.
“You sure?” Dean squinted and nodded at her.
The girl blinked a few times, undecided.
“She’s sure,” Grayson addressed Dean and yanked on Allie’s injured wrist. She shrieked as the lesion from the gardening accident hadn’t healed.
The roommate skidded between them as he thwacked Grayson’s arm.
“You didn’t just touch me,” Grayson snarled, huffing on Dean’s face.
“I’m sure, I’m sure.” Allie pressed her fiancé’s chest toward the door. Thankfully, the loud music disguised the spectacle from the other players.
Dean and Jay glowered as they watched the couple leave. Dean thought he could be the prince to save the princess from the dragon, except the princess was in love with the dragon. But he wasn’t one to surrender easily.
As his friend approached him, he said, “I’m splitting them up.”

Grayson's underwear was already down to his knees before Allie removed an item of clothing.
"Come on," he said. "Sit on me."
She unbuttoned part of his shirt, massaged his chest, and sucked on his nipple.
"Let's wait."
He plucked her neck and forced his tongue into her mouth. Begging for a quick breath, she attempted an escape, but he had locked her head in place. When he freed her, his fingers crawled down her body, getting rid of her thong.
"Wait." Allie struggled to keep her underwear.
"I can't wait," he mumbled.
Outside the car, it was a desolated parking lot. The paranoia of someone catching them was very distracting. She brought her legs together, still needing a warm up. What would Sister Mary or Sister Eve from the orphanage think of her if they learned of her whereabouts?
Grayson was too impatient to wait for her arousal, so he cupped his arm under her right thigh and raised her body over his legs. Allie vacuumed his chest with her mouth. She didn't want to tell her fiancé she was dry, so postponed his goal as much as she could. It was embarrassing, having to tell him she thought something was wrong with her. Maybe she was just bad at it and didn't have enough experience. Maybe she was one of those women a man could not please.
The lawyer held his veiny organ, pulled her hips toward it, and quickly penetrated her. She closed her eyes, focusing on the moment, uncertain her moans were of pleasure. Moving up and down wasn't easy. Her head kept bumping against the car roof, making frequent stops to fix her posture.
Allie hoped for it to end soon. Grayson pushed her down faster and fixated his eyes on their genitals.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Don’t stop,” he moaned.
But her head hit the car roof again, and she stopped to rub the top of her scalp.
In an impatient move, he lifted her torso against the backrest.
“What are you doing?” She found herself on her hands and knees.
“I’ll just fuck you from behind." He cupped her rear, and rubbed his tip against her vagina, then pounded inside her. His testicles bouncing against her clitoris. Allie moaned again, playing with it.
But she failed to anticipate his whole girth tunnelling into her anus. Her automatic scream almost made her vomit. A tear dropped on her cheek as she attempted to unhook herself. But he was too strong, squeezing her elbows together.
"Stop!" Allie howled.
Her fiancé groaned and pounced into her again.
“Almost there, almost there, I promise." He closed his eyes, digging his fingers into her skin.
“Fucking stop!” she sobbed.
Grayson pulled himself out of her in annoyance. She immediately sat up in a fetal position, holding her rear and weeping inconsolably.
"Why did you do that?" Her mouth and eyes were the widest they'd ever been.
"I'm sorry. I got carried away," he replied, rubbing her leg.
"Don't touch me," she whimpered.
"I've been wanting to put it there so much—I wasn't thinking. Please, don't be mad at me."
Allie grabbed her garments at lightspeed. Her hands trembled. Her knees glued together.
"Look," said Grayson, "I was going to give this to you next week, but I think this is the right moment."
He pulled out a small black box and revealed a ring inside of it.
Allie was inarticulate. That was the worst moment to show her an engagement ring. There was what she wanted—the proof of his love for her. This wasn’t what she had in mind. It wasn’t a surprise. The size of the diamond did not opaque what had just happened.
“Gray—Grayson, I don’t want to—I need time to think about this." Tears soaked her jeans.
“What?” He shut the box. “Is this because I fucked you in the ass? Allie, I apologized ‘cause I saw you crying, but come on, that’s something all couples do. Don’t be so childish. A proper woman would take it.”
He leaned back over the headrest with his hand over his forehead. “You should be thankful that I am this patient with you ’cause I know that you don’t have any experience.”
He was right. He apologized, and she was ruining everything with her immaturity. Maybe the next time it would not hurt, just like when she lost her virginity. How could she not be happy about the ring?
Smile, Allie!
She faked a smile until she was actually happy.
She wiped her tears. "How much did that cost?"
"For the woman I love, money is not important," he replied.
The light hit the diamond, glistening in a prepossessing dance.
"It's beautiful. Thank you," she said as he slid the metal on her finger.
He kissed her. They remained embracing each other.
"So, has that guy bothered you anymore?" asked Grayson.
"Yes, he keeps calling," said Allie, "but I'm doing what you told me. Every time he calls, I hang up on him."
"Good, with these idiots it is better not to engage. He’s probably selling insurance."
To be happy was a complicated matter. Although the pain in her bottom disappeared, it was still fresh in her brain. “Grow up,” she told herself.

The light coming from her apartment shined on Allie's ring as she entered the apartment. Mr. Pops ran to greet her, positioning his paws on her thighs and wiggling his tail. She scratched his neck while bending her knees for a licking.
Dean straightened his back as he noticed her presence. He had been studying and drinking soda. And also thinking about her. "Hi, sweetheart.”
Allie extended her hand, showing Dean her diamond. "It's official now. I’m getting married.” She pranced toward the living room. Her curls were all over the place; her eye sockets swollen.
Dean gave Allie a poker face and looked back at his computer. "That's nice." He drank the rest of his soda and crushed the can on his head. His fingers thrashed the keyboard. The lawyer put a ring around her finger but he clearly didn’t love her. Her blindness infuriated Dean.
She got closer to the couch, noticing coffee mugs and empty cans beside him.
"That's a lot of sugar for someone with a gym membership."
"No time for the gym during finals week," he said.
"Do you crave sugar when stressed out?”
“No, I crave you when I’m stressed out,” he thought of saying, but his mouth replied instead, "I'm not stressed out." He continued typing, wincing at the computer screen.
"We’ve all been stressed in our lives." Allie began petting Mr. Pops.
Dean halted. His heel vibrated. He raked his hair back.
She looked concerned at him.
"You know what you need? A break and a sandwich," she sat beside him.
"You sound like my mother," he replied.
"Well, I'm sure she's lovely."
Dean continued typing as Allie smiled at him.
"What? You really have to stop looking at me like that." Madness and arousal blended within his guts.
"You know you want a sandwich," she winked.
The irrational fury nettled him. It wasn’t like she chose the other guy and rubbed the ring on his face. She didn’t know Dean was a choice. Maybe all she knew was Grayson, the halfwit.
"Fine! Break and a sandwich." He closed his computer and walked with her to the kitchen.

While Allie prepared two pulled pork sandwiches, Dean watched her feminine gestures. He ached to make her his, except this moment wasn’t sexual. When they were alone, he had her full attention and he loved how she took pleasure in cooking for him. He desired to please her and give her the world.
As she handed him a sandwich, he inspected the succulent layers.
"Hey, how come yours looks better than mine?" he protested.
"What? They're both the same," she frowned.
"I don't know. I think yours has more sauce."
"Nope, I'm sure it's the same amount. Look."
Allie brought her food up to Dean's face. His head rotated down as if he was looking over imaginary glasses. Then he took a bite of her sandwich.
"Hey, I should have known that was a trick," she smiled.
They cackled.
"Okay, I believe you now," he chewed.
"You are way too cute,” she wiped a drop of barbeque sauce away from the corner of his lips.
Her gesture enhanced the torment of not being able to tell her how he felt. He glanced at her ring, but something else caught his attention: under her sleeve, there was an oval bruise on the inside of her arm.
"What's that?" He pulled up the fabric, uncovering part of a red handprint. He'd been yearning for an excellent excuse to lay his hands on Grayson's neck, so if Allie made the smallest suggestion of abuse, he would step in.
"Oh, minor incident.” She pulled her sleeve. She placed her food on a plate and put her hands behind her back, hiding her trembling fingers.
"Did Grayson do that to you?" Dean was fuming. He dropped his sandwich on the counter. "Allie, if he's hurting you—"
"It's not what you think," she stammered and brought her gaze down. “We—we were just—He got too excited," her face was multiple shades of red.
Allie having rough sex with her fiancé made Dean’s stomach turn into a knot. If he had the chance to make her his, he would never leave a mark on her body. But she had bags under her eyes. She had been crying about something.
Cracking sounds came from the front door. Dean hurried to look through the peeping hole, but didn't see anyone.
"Stay here," he told Allie. He stepped outside and saw three broken egg yolks running down the wood. Not too far away, a woman was sprinting toward the parking lot. He bolted after her, almost sure it was Meryl.
Seeing his ex-girlfriend's black sedan leaving the parking lot confirmed his suspicions. He sighed, rolling his eyes at the childish action of egging his door.
Back inside the apartment, he couldn't see Allie, but he heard her whispering in the living room.
"I won't listen to anything you have to say. How many times do I have to tell you that?" She turned around, hearing Dean's footsteps, then hung up the phone.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, some guy keeps calling the wrong number. Did you get to see who threw the eggs?" she said.
"I couldn't see the person, but it was Meryl's car driving away."
"Your ex? She must be really hurt to do that."
"Yeah, I could have chosen a better way to end it with her now that I think about it."
"Don't feel bad. The outcome would be the same, regardless."
"Thank you and thank you for break-and-a-sandwich." He scratched the back of his head.
"You're welcome.”
"All right, I will go wipe down the door. Then probably hit the laundromat. If you hear noises, it's just me."
"Okay," she stared at the door in disgust. She began walking to her room when she stopped. "Oh, if you go to the laundromat, don't use the left washer by the vending machine. It jams for everyone."
"Really? I don't think I've ever used that one."
"Then you're saving yourself a headache."
"Good to know."
Allie smiled, disappearing behind her door. The accounts in Grayson’s car would hunt her dreams for innumerable nights.

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