It's a Girl Thing - Part 3
Welcome to PART 3, don't worry if you are new here, you can start from the beginning HERE
Her name comes out as a whisper as I note the tear in her dress and the bruise on her face……
I close the door behind her, she leans into the wall and slumps to the floor. Low, soft whimpers seep from her, as if she were a wounded animal.
I sit beside her, I try to soothe her, but nothing makes a difference. “It’s okay, you’re safe here…. Just talk to me” I stumble over my words, I just need her to say something, anything. We sit for a while, her head nestled in the crook of my neck, her tear stained face finally at peace, fallen asleep in the shelter of me.
I shuffle out from beside her, I grab her a cushion and blanket from the sofa, just in case she wakes.
I head to the bathroom and fill the tub with warm, bubbly water. I tiptoe back out to the hall and steal myself one last glance at her before I break into her sleep. I kiss her forehead softly, her beautiful long limbs stretch as she wakes. “I’ve run a bath for you, fresh towels are by the tub.” It comes out a little harsher than I expect.
Her head snaps up at the sound of my voice and she seems wary, scared almost. My heart lurches, I’m desperate to scoop her up into my arms, I’ve never seen her look so fragile and small. “I can explain…” she starts “I hope so” I cut her off.
She looks stung at my interruption but takes it without another word. She gingerly gets to her feet and as she passes by me, her fingers brush my shoulders and a soft “sorry” hangs in the air as she disappears into the bathroom.
I leave her to soak whilst I busy myself with making tea in the kitchen, my breathing is erratic and I notice I’m shaking. I grip onto the side, steadying myself.
So many questions thunder through my mind, the noise is unbearable. Lost in thought I don’t hear her footsteps. Her arms snake around my waist and feather light kisses spill across my bare shoulders. “Don’t!” I warn.
She stills immediately and retreats to the breakfast bar. “I know you’re angry, I never meant last night to happen. I shouldn’t have come tonight” her words rush out but its hollow and meaningless. “That’s not an explanation!” I spit back “If you didn’t want last night to happen, why make your move? Convenient? Horny? Bored?”
My anger is palpable, “I don’t want excuses I want the fucking truth!” She sits for a minute and considers her reply, she sashays out of the kitchen and picks up her bag from the hall. “You want my reason, THIS is my reason!” (It was a sort of “fuck you” and “I’ll show you!” all in one.)
She up-ends her bag and fifty pound notes rain down on the floor. I can’t help noting the strip of condoms that fall out too. “I don’t get it” my words sound as flummoxed as I feel. “I’m an escort, all those nice things you
constantly remind me that I have and you want…they cost money… this is how I pay for them.” She scowls.
constantly remind me that I have and you want…they cost money… this is how I pay for them.” She scowls.
I’m numb! I’m not sure if it’s the revelation or the fact that she could see me like a client. I don’t speak I just stare at her. What’s worse is, no matter my anger, I’m desperate to touch her. Now I know what she does, would she expect me to pay? Would I pay? While these thoughts race around my mind, each one more ridiculous than the next, she clearly gets bored of waiting for a response.
She scrabbles around the floor stuffing the cash back in her bag and stalks out of the kitchen. As she reaches the threshold I find my voice – “Is that why you’re back, payment?” I sneer. She whips round to face me so fast, I jump back a little. Her face in mine, I’m defiant , I refuse to back down or to move first.
Her hand grabs the back of my neck, her mouth presses against mine, her tongue parts my lips with a delicious skill she has, clearly honed. Her other hand slides beneath my shirt and frees my already hard nipple from my bra. She rolls it back and forth between finger and thumb, teasing and tormenting until I smash into that pleasure/pain barrier. Fuck! This is hot. She breaks away from me, breathless, belligerent, rebellious… "I was back for you! A black eye, a fat lip…FOR YOU! I quit tonight, I said NO! to sex with that arrogant piece of shit and I got a smack in the mouth for it. I wanted you… but fuck this, take your pity party elsewhere, at least I know who I am!" She roars.
She rushes from the room, I assume to dress. A couple of minutes later the front door slams and the flat is silent. I wait a while but she has definitely gone. The loneliness is so close it like it’s choking me, I'm not sure how long I sat there, but my back ached and my mouth was dry.
'BEEP' My phone flashes and her name lights my screen.
To find out what she has to say, join me in Part 4