What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (6 page)

“Whatever.”

He comes back with two
bags, and I look at him with curiously. “Who's eating all that?”

“Me, if you don't
want any.”

“No, I'm content,”
I say with wide eyes.

Guys are just greedy.
They don't worry about over-eating and feeling bad afterward. They
hardly gain any weight most of the time. Women, we eat a salad and
feel the need to over exercise, just by ingesting rabbit food.

Bryant and I laugh and
talk for the rest of the night as if nothing ever happened last week.
We talk about his plans for his new business. I assure him I will be
behind him whatever he decides to do. Bryant shares with me his great
news I've known about since earlier. He also tells me about Mr.
Wilke's merger, and the role his new company plays in all of this. I
express how proud I am of him, and I am. I guess that's why I give
him a blowjob on my living room couch. Yeah, call me confused; it
doesn’t take much effort to push aside our non-relationship
feelings for sex. He carries me to my spare bedroom and repeatedly
shows me how appreciative he is for my support and the BJ, of course.
Bryant fucks me into the early hours of the morning with, and without
protection. The last time is a mistake, I think. We are spooning
after our third turn of the mattress. His cock starts to harden
against my ass. We’re so close he becomes erect right at my opening
and slightly pushes his way in. It’s so lazy, I barely move. I
couldn't if I wanted to. He fucks me so deliciously, my body is limp.
I just allow him to have his way with me. His thrusts are slow in and out of me, as we lay sideways, as he picks up his rhythm. “Bryant,” I moan;
he moves his hands around my throat and adds pressure.

He lifts up on his
shoulder then pushes his free hand under me, at my waist. He palms my
pussy with pressure to my clit.

“Ahhh, Bryant.”

“Mmmh,” he responds
sleepily.

“Don't stop, please.”
He licks the nape of my neck and kisses it tenderly.

He rolls us both over,
so I'm flat on my stomach. His front to my back, as he lifts my hips
slightly from the bed. His hand still palming me at my center, I feel
a build of sensation as my pussy throbs in his hand.

Bryant’s thrusts are
hard and slow. I can hear his breathing picking up; and if I'm not
mistaken, I think he just asked for my permission to come.

“Bree-baby.” He's
breathless. “Bree come on my cock.” He growls those words as if
he's holding back his orgasm. “I can feel how close you are, Bree;
you're throbbing around my cock.” His voice still has a gruff,
sleepy sound.

“Ahhh, Bry. I'm… I…
I'm coming.”

“Let it go, Bree.
Mmmm, you're so tight. Can I, Bree? Let me come in your pu—”

He lets go and
collapses on my back.

“Fuck Me!” he
grunts. He jerks, when I purposely tighten my muscles around his
cock. “You're dirty,” he says breathing erratically.

“You made me this
way.”

“And I love it, every
bit of it.”

The room is quiet for a
few seconds.

“Bria?”

Maybe he'll think I'm
asleep if I don’t say anything.

“Bria, you're not
asleep.”

Damn…

“Hmmh,” I respond
softly like I was.

“You know I love you,
right?”

“I love you too,
Bryant.”

“No, Bria.” He
pulls out of me, and my body relaxes. I know one part of me that
isn't happy though.

He lies beside me.
“Open your eyes, Bria.” And I do; I'm looking right into his.

“Bria, I'm in love
with you. I can't do anything about it.”

I want to ask why, but
I don't care. I don't want to be in a non-relationship. I don’t
want to be in a relationship period. They're messy, and best friends
won't survive. However, the stupid girlie me asks.

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “I
love you too much. It's scary how much I do. I'd rather have our
friendship; see you whenever I want, or all the time. We have a
disagreement; we watch movies to resolve it.” He laughs a little.
“That’s our thing; that’s us. A relationship means jealous
hearts, wandering eyes, fighting then not seeing you. Make up sex,
wait, I like that idea.” He chuckles as I slap him on his back.

“I thought you were
asleep?” he sarcastically questions. “Seriously, you know? It's
too much to lose. You, Bria, you're too much to lose. What I have
with you, I don't want with anyone else. You encourage me, my life
decisions. You kick my ass when I go M.I.A. on you, or when I get out
of line. You. Are. It. For. Me. I don't want to lose that. I think a
relationship will jeopardize all of that.” He pauses. “Unless you
want to try. I love you, and our friendship so much, nothing matters
to me if you aren't a part of my life. Not now, not in the future.”

Shit, how did he just
turn the fucking tables on me?

“But I know you,
Bria; you don’t want any complications of a relationship.”

“Exactly,” I say.

He looks at me with
disappointment in his eyes.

“Bryant, you know me.
I can’t lose you to bullshit. We respect each other totally, and I
don’t want to lose you. I lost you once to that bitch whore. She
was such a waste.” He laughs again. “I don’t know if it’s
what you really want to do? Start a relationship, why the hell not?”
Whoa, I did not just—

I can’t think
logically when my girlie parts have just been ravished with such
gratifying actions. I just made a decision that will break us.

“Bria?”

“Bryant?”

“I love you.” He
kisses me on the forehead.

“I know, Bryant.” I
rub his back for comfort.

“Things will be
weird,” he says.

“At first, maybe; but
how weird could they be? We’ve already seen each other naked.”

“Yes, but—”

“But what, Bryant?”

“We don’t have to,
Bria.” A silence falls upon the room; it’s that way for several
minutes. It’s so silent I think I’m asleep… I am and so is
Bryant.

I wake up in a panic.
It’s later than I expected. I vaguely remember wine and lots of
Bryant the night before. A smile forms over my face, but slightly
disappears as the tenderness of my body reminds me of last night’s
events. I rush to my bedroom for clothes. As I enter the hall, I can
smell coffee and bacon in the air. I use the bathroom before I cover
myself with shorts and a tank. Heading toward my kitchen, I hear
Bryant humming the melody to The Newbeats old song. It makes me
chuckle because he’s actually buttering bread.

“Morning.”

“Morning, you know I
don‘t have time to eat, right?”

“This isn’t for
you.” He smirks.

“Oh, really, and do
you plan on replacing any of this?”

“Maybe,” he laughs.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, only if you
have a normal breakfast with me.”

“Bryant, I can’t;
I’m running late as it is.”

“You’ll be fine,
Bree.”

“No, Mr. Wilke will
kill me.”

“No, he won’t. Now
sit, eat.”

“Okay, how about I
have lunch with you today?”

“Sit!” And I do.

I don’t argue with
Bryant when he’s stern with me. He places a plate in front of me. I
look up at him.

“What? It’s veggie
bacon, lady, eat. Don’t give me that face.”

“Okay. But when I
lose my job, you better make sure there’s a place for me at your
company.”

“That, you’ll never
have to worry about.”

“Is that so?”

He looks at me with a
raised eyebrow. “No, never. I’ve called Mr. Wilke already, to let
him know you’d be working from home at least half the day.”

“You did what now?”

“You heard me.”

“Bryant, you can’t
just phone my boss and call in work for me.”

“Why not? He’s fine
with it,” he says, taking eggs into his mouth.

“Bryant!” I yell.

He winces, then gives
me a stern
, I’ve spoken
look.

“Look, you were
snoring last night. That only happens when you are extremely
exhausted.”

“I mean, you had a
long… long night.” He smirks.

“I thought you’d
sleep in. Have breakfast, a little bow- chicka-wow-wow before you
start your half day, but I guess I was wrong. No breakfast for you.”
He pulls the plate away while my fork is still in my omelet.

“Hey?”

We both laugh, as he
places the plate back on the counter.

“Our first fight,”
Bryant says. I look up; he smiles as he moves closer to me. Bryant
grabs me by my chin, looks into my eyes, and as serious as he can,
says, “Time for makeup sex.”

I shake my head.
“You’re incorrigible,” I say as I turn away from him.

“What’s wrong with
that?”

“I’m not done
eating.”

“Ah, avoiding sex
already?”

“No, I’m not,” I
laugh. He grabs me around the waist from behind, and nudges his nose
behind my ear. “Bryant, we don’t—”

“Shhh, Bria, just
relax.”

Bryant turns me around,
and lifts me off my feet. I act on natural instinct, and wrap my legs
around his waist. I pull his shirt from his body, exposing his nicely
sculptured abs.
Whoa.
I can’t help it. It’s Bryant. All of my body parts like Bryant.

Bryant is strong; he
lifts me as if I weigh nothing. He carries me down the hall, lightly
kissing me on my neck. When we reach the room, he lowers himself to
his knees. I hold on to him, knowing he has full control of this
situation. He gently lays me on the carpet in front of my French
doors. Bryant is more gentle than normal, as he places kisses to my
breast and neck. His approach feels different; I wonder why? Oh no, I
think he’s going to go there. I’m not sure what to do. He lifts
my tank over my head; my breasts are now his distraction. He’s so
sensual this morning. Usually, Bryant is a little rushed to get to
his happy ending when he takes me. Oh, No! No! No! No!

“Bryant?”

“Hmmh,” he replies,
with a mouth full of my nipple.

“We have to stop.”
He pauses his actions.

He looks up at me, as I
look down into his light grey eyes.

“Why?”

“I need to get ready
for work.”

“Bria, I told you I
took care of that already.”

He tries to be calm as
possible.

“I know, but—”

“But what, Bria?”

“Listen, please don’t
get mad.”

“I’m not!”

“Then why are you
yelling at me?” I whisper.

“Just frustrated with
you. You’re deflecting.”

“Bryant, I’m not.”

“You are; you do it
when you’re nervous about something, or when you try to avoid a
situation. Why are you trying to avoid this?”

I’m not trying to
avoid what
was
about
to happen. Not really, but lovemaking, or making love to a person is
far more intimate than what Bryant and I share. Oh, hell yes, I like
a good sex-session with Bryant when he wants it, or vise-versa. I
won’t allow him to make love to me; my heart isn’t open for the
in love
stage. It’s
bad enough we’ve kissed. Okay, I’ll admit I kind of enjoy kissing
him. It gets my sex senses to send the ready signal to my actual
brain. Yeah, not the other way around.

“I’m not. I just
want—”

“Want to get to
work,” he interrupts, and finishes my statement. Bryant stands up
then looks down at me. I feel like he can see straight into my soul.
It feels so naked, and Bryant has stripped it. He reaches for my
hand, and I give it to him as he pulls me into a hug.

“Bria? This isn’t
going to work, is it?”

I say nothing.

“I guess it’s
better to find out now, rather than later down the line, right?”

“Right,” I mumble
into his chest because my throat has a lump in it. He pulls back,
and looks down at me.

“Bryant, I’m
sorry.” I start to sob.

“Bree, please don’t
do that. I don’t want you to cry. Bria!” His voice is forceful
and strong. “Stop it! Now!” I immediately pull away from him, to
retreat to my bathroom. I shut and lock the door behind me,
forgetting the adjacent door from the hall is still open. I wash my
face, and look up in the mirror to see Bryant standing right behind
me. I’m startled at his image staring back at me. “Shit, Bryant!”

“Bria, I’m trying
to understand you. You say you want to try a relationship, and now
this.” He shakes his head, as he runs his hands over his face. “I
don’t understand, Bria. Do you or don’t you want a relationship?”

I never said I wasn’t
wishy washy with this thing Bryant and I have. I have mixed feelings
about
us
. I want what
I want with him, by my standards only. He doesn’t know that though,
it’s best that way. Sometimes, I’m annoyed, pissed off, and want
to jump his bones within the same minute. What can I say? My boss was
right; I come off bitchy.

“I do, Bryant. I do,”
I say this in a low tone because I don’t want to upset him.

“Then what’s the
problem?”

I focus on my hands.

“Look at me, Bria.”
I lift my head to look at him. “Is there someone else?”

“God, no! Bryant, no,
there’s no one.”

“Are you not
attracted to me? I mean, your body reacts to me like you are.”

“No, Bryant, no, it’s
not that. I just don’t know what it is.”

“You do, Bria,” he
says, and I do.

I look at Bryant in the
mirror. I know I want my best friend to stay my best friend. I know
we have incredible sex. I know we have great conversations; but the
heart-stopping, stomach-dropping, sex-dripping reactions. I don’t
get those when I’m with Bryant. I know it sounds conflicting. He
does it for me sexually, but he has to build me up to it. Like I’ve
said, my pussy likes Bryant, but not enough to get wet at the first
sight of him. That’s what I want. He’s staring at me, waiting for
an answer.

“Bryant, I just don't
want to see this go bad.”