TUESDAY TALES: FUNNY

Tuesday Tale is a group of writers who write every week in answer to a word prompt. Most of these writing exercises are excerpts or extras from our works in progress. Here is a little something from my LATIN RHYTHMS romantic suspense, where love can make you dead.

To read more Tuesday Tales, please visit http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com. Happy Reading. –m

All she could do was stare, as he pulled up his pants, zipped his fly, and crushed her soul.

    “I love you,” she whispered.

    He had shoved her off him and she fell off the bed tangled in the bed sheets still warm from their lovemaking. The lover of last night had been replaced by a stranger with sharp words and hard eyes.

    “Bitch, please. We fucked. That’s it.” He grabbed his shirt and with one final look of disgust stepped out of the room.

    She sat stunned. She’d thought he was the One.

    She laid her head on the mattress, her tears wetting its surface.

    He was just like the rest. All they wanted was her body and once they had used her – once they had fucked her – they threw her off like yesterday’s garbage.

    Her hands knotted around the stained sheets. Her screams muffled against the unmade bed.

    Sorrow turned to rage and then to laughter and finally to silence.

    She slept.

    She dreamt.

    In her dream, she waited by his car. He always parked away from the entrance to his office building so that his baby would be better protected. He liked to stay late and show the bosses how hard he worked.

    He saw her waiting. There was no welcome on his face.

    She could tell he was going to ignore her so she slid on the hood of his car and crossed her legs.

    His eyes were drawn to her bare legs where her black coat road up high on her thighs.

    She could see the desire in his gaze. Feel it in the hard cock pressed against her knee.

    “It’s just a fuck, baby. Nothing more.” His hands spread her legs and stepped between them.

    The parking lot was empty and dark as he ground himself against her. His mouth against her neck, sucking her flesh.

    She could see shadows on the ceiling as her head tilted backwards to allow his access. The air smelled of fumes and night.

    “Nothing more.”

    “What?” He rasped against her ear giving her a short nip.

    She shivered at his touch, and lowered her face to his.

    “A fuck and nothing more,” she said.

    With a flick of her wrist the knife sliced his throat.

    Eyes stared into eyes. Disbelief. Horror. Fear.

    She woke refreshed and alert.

    She slipped off the bed and headed for the shower. She stripped off her nightgown and let it fall on the floor.

    The mirror reflected a mass of wavy hair and a small red mark on her neck. She rubbed it a bit and frown. She shook her head and reached across the sink and pushed down the drain stopper.

    A lacy slip laid immersed in pink water.

    Funny how easy it was to get blood out of silk.###