She wanted to somehow be different than the rest of his girlfriends. She needed to impress him. But, somehow, it just never seemed to be the right thing. Tonight, she gathered her purse, slipped on her heels, and slipped out the door. Tonight, she'd show him she could be the best he ever had.
She knocked on the door. As her knuckles laid another series of beats, the door opened on its own. Quiet engulfed her. His car was outside. He didn't own a dog. So a walk was probably out of the question. Ignoring her instincts, she slipped off her heels and padded inside.
Nothing appeared to out of place.
She ambled through the kitchen. Leftovers, dirty dishes, utensils, an empty cereal box, all spread out over the counters. He definitely lived the life of a bachelor. He could use a good woman, she thought. She began to tidy the kitchen, but began and thought the better of it. He didn't like her messing around, even if she was trying to be helpful.
She moved upstairs. Voices. She paused. They were very quiet. She could feel the skin of her face grow hot. Embarrassment or anger, she didn't know which, but it made her uncomfortable, none the less. Ignoring her best ideas, she stood still, listening. The sounds of a woman in the middle of sex came muffled from the TV room. If she strained, she was almost certain that she heard the sound of him, calling the other woman names, urging the other woman towards her naughty, dirty side. The heat under her skin prickled down her back. He could have her, she thought.
When she believed she had heard enough to demand an end to the relationship, she turned and slowly began her decent. The stairs seemed to be steeper, more numerous than when she had climbed up, worried he may be hurt, or something. It was unlike him to leave the door unlocked and now, she realized he had just been careless in his excitement of the other woman being here. Making her way to the door, she paused to slide her shoes on. Her back was facing the front room, tears sliding down her cheek. If he did see her, she did not want him to see her like this. She resolved just to disappear from his life, make excuses, anything, until she could ask for the relationship to be over.
She opened the door, breathed in the outside air, and began to step out, when he suddenly blocked her way, outside, trying to come in.
"You're here early."
"I had wanted to surprise you, but that's ok now." She sidestepped him, and focused on her vehicle. All she wanted at this point was to go home and cry.
"I see." He moved in front of her again. "You didn't wait for me to answer the door, I see."
"I thought you might be hurt, or something."
He nodded. "And you see why I have you come, when I tell you to come now, don't you?" He placed his hand on her chin, and made her look at him. "You see why the rules are the way they are, now?"
"Yeah, so you can have other women," she mumbled. Wrenching her face away, she pressed towards the car.
He grabbed her wrist, and yanked, pulling her off guard. She stumbled behind, losing her shoes, as he pulled her towards the house. He pulled, hard, not caring how she felt. Once inside, he pushed her down, listening to her body "thud" to the ground. He grabbed her wrist, dragging her fighting body up the stairs. He could hear her stumble as he towed her up the stairs.
She did not like this. She wanted to go home and cry. She didn't want to see who the other woman was. She didn't want to know of the toys, or any part of it. She didn't want to smell the sex of another. She wanted to turn around, go home, and be done with it. But he was bruising her wrist. He was bruising her legs and knees. She was going to look as if they had fought, physically.
He didn't look at her. He wasn't going to give her the pleasure of looking in his eyes tonight. He wasn't going to let her get any part of her way. He dragged her to the landing and threw her against the wall, pinning her. "You think you know so much, but tonight, you're going to learn how little you really do know," he growled in her ear. He could hear her panting. Feel her push against the wall to try and dislodge him, unpin her. He kicked her feet apart, throwing her off balance.
She pushed against the wall, and pulled her wrists, trying to get them free. They hurt. Now her feet hurt. Bruises forming. She thrust her head backwards, trying to hit him with it. She was going to fight this. She was not going to let him have her. He had the other woman, the one in his bedroom, the one who was moaning just a bit earlier.