Michael Malone - Weebly

"You told Joe you'd come to the station at nine.
John. Please, John." The words were her only struggle
to escape, though the wish to escape beat inside her
like the flapping wings of an enormous bird panicked in
a cage. "John, you told Joe."
He squeezed his hand around her wrist and led her
across the hall to the bedroom, where, without turning
on the light, he pulled her down beside him on the bed,
his weight forcing her next to him.
Then pushing her backwards, he rolled on top of
her, one leg wedging hers open.
"John. Please," she asked a final time.
"No," he said. "Now. Hon, come on, now. It's been
almost a month. A month." He held her wrists down
over her head. "I've missed my wife. Missed you, hon.
You're still my girl." He was rubbing harder against her,
then he rolled off and said hoarsely, "Take off your
clothes and get under the covers, all right? I've got to
wear these tonight, so I guess…" His voice trailed off.
Standing beside her, he undressed like an athlete in a
changing room, ignoring with silent circumspection a
nearby body.