What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (7 page)

“Why would it?”

“Me, because of me.
I'm not the girlfriend type.”

“Bullshit, Bria,
Bullshit!”

“You asked; now you
don’t believe what I'm telling you? That's bullshit!”

“Look at me.” He
grabs both sides of my face. “You look at me and tell me that
you’re not the girlfriend type, and that's the reason it won't
work.” I pause for a minute before I speak.

“Honestly, Bry, it's
not me at all. It's you I have a problem with. It's not what you
think.” I lie… I have to lie. I've never lied to Bryant, but it
has become necessary these days. It'll hurt him, and me. Seeing him
hurt, seeing him pained because of me, my words will kill him. “I
can't be the girlfriend you need me to be. Your level of success; you
come from a different league, Bryant. I'm not trying to compete with
that. As your friend, you can say shit to me, which won’t phase me.
Things I normally feel; I don’t have to defend myself to you. As
your girlfriend, my feelings are more exposed, things change. Your
standards set for me would be too high. We both know I'm not a
high-standard type of chick. As your friend, I'm weird, annoying, and
that's fine. As your girlfriend, I'll have to be presentable and not
so lazy. I'll have you and me to be responsible for.”

Bryant’s head is
lowered; he’s shaking it in disbelief. “And how is any of this,
because of me, Bria?”

“Your standards are
too high, Bryant. I can't meet your standards.”

“Again, I'm the
issue?” he questions with a high eyebrow.

“Yes!” I yell.

“BULLSHIT!” he
yells as he walks out of my bathroom.

I follow him back to my
sitting room, where this conversation started. I know Bryant has a
mean streak, but I've only witnessed it once, so I'm cautious with
what I say.

“It's not bullshit,
Bry; it's the truth.” Again another lie, where are they coming
from?

“How long have I
known you, huh? This is the bullshit you feed me? My standards are
too high?” He scoffs. “Un-fucking believable, Bria?”

“What do you want me
to say?”

“The truth, why don't
you want to be with me? I’m successful. I'm easy on the eyes. My
body is healthy. I'm not a total ass to you. You said it yourself;
the sex is incredible. Do I not do it for you?”

BING!

I look away, and he
takes a step towards me. “Is that what it is? I don't do it for
you? Bria, answer me.”

I stutter, “Wh-what
are you talking about?” I walk over to the island that separates my
kitchen and sitting room to put distance between us.

“Do I do it for you?”

“Do what?”

“Don't insult my
intelligence, Bria; answer the damn question.”

Bryant stops with his
pleas. He grabs my arms to hold me in place. In a low, angry voice,
he asks me, “Do I do it for you, Bria? Do I make your stomach flip?
Does your heart stop when I enter the room? Do you get wet at the
thought of me?”

How
did he—?Lie, Bria, lie
. “Bryant.”

He scoffs. “That's
it; that's fuckin’ it!”

He tightens his grip on
my arms, and I yelp. He lifts me to the center island in a swift
motion. “Bryant, please.” He lifts both my arms and locks my
wrists with one hand. He tears away my shorts with the other.

“Bryant, no, please!”

“Please what, Bria?”

“Don't do this; this
isn't you, Bryant!”

“What isn't? The part
of me making you so wet, you drip at the thought of me taking you
like this, huh? Is this what you want?”

He rubs his fingers at
my sex; and of course, the body doesn't lie. I'm wetter than I've
ever been before, only from him forcefully handling me. He's never
gotten me this wet without drawn out foreplay.

“Ah, so that’s it.
Bria likes to be man-handled.”

“No, Bria doesn't!”
I yell.

I try to break his
hold. I knew he was strong; but damn, he'll leave bruises on my
wrists at this rate.

“Bryant, please, this
will definitely put a hole in our friendship; not like this, please.”
I start to panic because I'm scared. My eyes tear up because my best
friend is forcing himself on me, when there's no reason to. He can
have me whenever he wants. There is a primal look about him. I know
he feels my fear. His eyes are darker than normal. I can't even look
at him. I turn my head still bound under his weight, while his strong
hands hold me in place. He lowers my arms, but doesn't let go of my
wrists. He lowers himself until his face is at my sex. Of course, my
lady garden is reacting with anticipation at what’s about to go
down. Deceitful bitch, she is. Never am I going to self-pleasure her
again.

My body starts to
tingle, and he hasn't even touched me. I can only assume he is down
there, staring. My breathing has picked up, and I swallow hard
because I have no idea what he's going to do. I do feel wetness at my
center, as if it’s literally dripping from my pussy down the center
of my ass. I cannot be this wet. I shake my head in disbelief as I
hear Bryant moan. He inhales deeply before he shocks my body. Bryant
sticks his tongue in my opening and latches on. He has no mercy on my
clit, as he tongues my pussy at the same time. I’m not sure what
was going on with my body before he did this; there was no build up.
My body convulses. I'm pretty sure my pussy just squirted. The orgasm
tears through me so hard, my tailbone tingles all the way up my
spine. Bryant continues to tongue fuck me as hard as he can; and with
the last breath I have in me, I collapse. Well, I was lying flat
already. My legs fall to the side. Bryant lets go of my hands as he
lifts himself from his knees. When his face comes into view, it is
wet with my juices. My eyes are still blurry. He looks down at me,
sprawled on my island, not able to move.

“Your pussy's
dripping,” is all he says as he walks toward my bathroom. That
fucking did it. His words alone gives me a mini orgasm. All I can do
is squeeze my thighs together.

* * *

I'm still lying on my
countertop when he comes from the bathroom fully clothed, with a bag
in his hand. I wonder if he planned to stay the night. I hadn't
noticed he had a bag with him. He passes me and says nothing. He
takes water from the refrigerator, and then sits his overnight bag on
the floor. Bryant is intimidating at this moment. He takes long gulps
while staring at me viciously. I don’t understand why though? He
asked and received the truth; he received a little more if you ask
me. Oh, I did all the receiving on this one. He finishes the entire
bottle and discards it in the trash. He still hasn’t said a word,
as he looks out to the patio.

“Bryant,” I finally
manage to say, because my breathing hasn't gone back to normal.

“Yeah?”

“Please don't be
mad.” He turns his head, and stares at me.

“Not at you,” he
tells me.

“Don't do that to
yourself.”

“Too late. Get your
ass up, and wash your lady parts. She's been worked over pretty well,
don't you think?”

I just shake my head,
as I fail at the attempt to get off the counter.

“Call me if she needs
another workout.”

“Bryant, wait.”

He walks toward the
front door and looks over his shoulder.

His eyes are softer
than they were earlier.

“I'm serious. If you
need me, Bree, just call me.”

“Bryant, please,
wait.” And he doesn't.

He closes the door
while I'm still on my kitchen island naked from the waist down. I
mean really. I’m exposed. Pussy is out; tears are flowing; feelings
are hurt, and I feel like I've lost my best friend.

Since Bryant arranged
me a half-day, I guess I'll work noon until six. I feel rested
though; my body feels great. In hindsight, thank you, Bryant. Instead
of going to my favorite café, I stop to pick up lunch for Mr. Wilke
and me. Arriving at work, I stop by my office to drop off my bags. I
head to my boss's office. The door is closed, so I try to open it.
Whoa, and apparently locked. “Uh-oh.”

I step back before I
hear, or see anything. Sheesh, it’s barely noon and he's at it
already? As I turn to leave, the door flies open, and Charlotte comes
out. She has a smile on her face that could light up the new Vikings’
stadium.

“Well hello, my
events genius.”

“Hi, Mrs. Wilke, how
are you?” I say as my boss exits his doorway; his face is red.

“Hey, sunshine. Sleep
in well?” he greets me.

“Umm, yes, I did.
Here's your lunch.”

“Oh good, thanks.
What do I owe you?” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket.

“Oh, no need, you're
good.”

Mrs. Wilke looks
between the two of us. I can see her mental wheels turning.

“Mrs. Wilke, if I had
known you were here, I would have called and got your order. I
apologize. It's Friday, and since I was coming in late, I just
stopped because this”—I point to the container Mr. Wilke is
holding—“is his usual on Friday.”

“Oh, no worries,
love. I'm glad someone can get him to eat healthy and is in tune with
what he likes.” She winks at me.

“Yeah, Charlotte
likes to cook healthy, no salt, no butter. Yum,” my boss says. Mrs.
Wilke laughs as she pats him on his chest and kisses him on the cheek
while she whispers something in his ear. I've never seen my boss
blush so hard. He smiles and places his hand at the small of her
back. “Peaches, come now; you have a jet to catch.”

“Oh, not so cocky
anymore, are we now,” she laughs.

“I am and will
continue to be.” He lowers his hand and squeezes her ass.

I should not be a
witness to this. “Umm, it was nice to see you again, Mrs. Wilke.”
I turn and make my way to my office. I can hear the two of them
behind me. Oh, my God! It's not gross, but that's my boss. Not only
did I just find out he was checking me out, but he's a kinky sex
addict, I think…

My day goes by pretty
smoothly. I didn't have much on my plate, but I’ve accomplished
quite a bit. All of my boss's proposals have been verified, and sent
to his investors. I must have been working really hard because I
haven’t noticed my phone has messages, all from Bryant.

It’s 5:45, I'm leaving in fifteen minutes. I quickly send him a text so he won't lose his cool, more than he already has. To think I was in a fifteen-hour relationship with him. I shake my head; damn, it could be worse.

I grab my laptop,
purse, and head for the elevators. My boss left a couple of hours
ago; said he was meeting the missus for a weekend getaway. I get in
my car and link up my Bluetooth. “Dial Bryant,” I speak clearly,
so the name can register. This damn thing will have me calling Japan,
if I don't speak like a robot.

“Hey.”

“Hey, how was your
day?”

“Good, yours?”

“Ah, it was fine.
What are you doing tonight?”

“Umm, home, eat,
wine, and sleep.”

“You want to do that
with me and maybe a new colleague? Well, not the sleep part unless
you need to be worked out again,” he laughs.

“Bryant, I'm a bit
exhausted by my earlier workout.”

“I bet,” he says.

“‘Maybe a new
colleague’, what does that mean?”

“Yeah, new colleague;
business partner; whatever you want to call it. He has a late
meeting, but he thinks it won't happen.”

“Okay, what time and
where?”

“At 8 p.m., at the
Vodka Bar.”

“Great,” I say with
sarcasm in my voice.

“What? What's wrong
with the Vodka Bar?”

“Nothing, nothing.
I'll be there, just let me go home and change.”

“I'm sure you look
fine.”

“Yeah, in office
attire?”

“Sexy office
assistant look, yeah, I like that,” he says devilishly.

I can hear him smiling.

“Bryant, I'm going
home.”

“You need any help?”

“No, I'll be just
fine.”

“Are you sure?
Sometimes women need a little help.”

“I'm sure. I'll be
quicker if you aren't around.”

“Shit, if quick is
what you want.”

“Bryant, goodbye,”
I laugh.

“All right, Bree, see
you in a few.”

“Okay”

“Bree?”

“Yeah, Bry?”

“I appreciate your
friendship. I think it would have been weird.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Love you, baby
cakes; see you later.”

“Love you too, Bry;
see you.”

“Don't be late,” he
says quickly.

“OKAAAY!”

* * *

I hang up with Bryant,
as I pull up to my house. I figure it’s going to take me twenty
minutes to get back to the Vodka Bar. I keep my blouse on and turn it
into an off-the-shoulder number. I change into different heels just
to feel sexy, just the way Bryant likes for me to be.
Wait,
am I trying to be sexy for Bryant? No, I'm not; I'm being sexy for
me. Am I?
I am. If Bryant notices, then it’s a win. If
his new colleague notices… then it’s win-win. I finish up and
leave the house with a few minutes to spare.

When I arrive at the
Vodka Bar, I scan the parking lot. I spot Bryant’s car right away.
I circle the lot again to get a spot near the entrance, because
walking far is not an option in these shoes. As I’m entering the
bar, I see a car come into the parking lot. It looks like… It looks
like an Infiniti G37 Convertible Coupe.

“Holy shit.” I
hurry into the bar to avoid being spotted, if it’s that ass of a
man. I want to be as far out of his sight as I possibly can be. I
scan the small crowd; I find Bryant right away. He's toward the back
in a booth. Great, a booth, out of sight. I make my way toward him
and Bryant stands to hug me. I return the hug tightly and quickly
take a seat. He eyes me curiously.