What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) Read Free

still, my feelings
don’t change. Bryant turns, and now I can see what I suspected.
Yep, he's put on a condom. I should be relieved. I really should, but
I don’t. I feel shitty, really shitty. I’m not sure why I feel
that way. I wonder if he’s had unprotected sex with another woman?
Either way, this shitty feeling is here to stay. He closes the
distance to me and the bed, stroking himself to make sure the condom
is snug. He doesn't make eye contact with me.
    “Bryant,” I
whisper.
    “Bree, don't.” I
try to get up from the bed, but he grabs my thigh hard.
    “Oww, whoa, wait,
Bryant—”
    “Listen, Bree, it's
not even like that, okay?”
    “It's not like what,
Bry? Huh, it's not like what?”
    “I know you, Bree. I
know what you are thinking; it's not that at all.” He looks at me
and then quickly out the over-sized window. I have to get the
dimensions to that thing, it’s effin huge. Shit !
I’m so unfocused right now.
    His hands dropping to
his sides pull me from my distraction.
    He sighs, “I don't
trust me with you.”
    “Why?” I ask.
    He goes silent.
    “Bry-ant?”
    “Bre-yah? He mimics
me. “Have you noticed anything about this? Our friendship?
Sex-sessions?”
    “Bryant, what are you
talking about?”
    “Us, Bria. Us.” He
fingers back and forth to him, then me. But he seems troubled.
    And I certainly can't
focus with his seven-inch cock touching his belly button. His nice,
toned abs, shit ! I
really need to focus. He's serious right now; and me, not so much.
But Bryant's body makes me perform Kegels, whenever his skin is
showing. No tattoos, no tanning. Just one scar on his chest that he
encountered at a frat party when we were in college. I still don't
know the entire story because I was in a drunken stupor with Halle
purging in my lap... crazy chick...
    His face looks pained
as he looks back to me, “Bria.”
    He's saying my name way
too much. He never calls me by my name. “Bryant, what's going on
with you?” I whisper. He grabs his shorts and pulls them back on;
that doesn't stop the obvious standing at attention.
    “Bria, we've been
doing this for a while. We've over-stepped our friendship boundaries
ten times over. Have you ever wondered what would have become of us,
this, if you hadn’t gotten hurt rock climbing, and I hadn’t
massaged that cramp out of your leg...” he trails off.
    “No,” I answer,
cutting him short.
    “We... this… us,
it's unhealthy.”
    “Whaa,” I say.
What’s he talking about?
    “Bria, sex with you
is great, but it's not healthy. Neither of us wants to become
emotionally attached.”
    “Fuck. That's it. I’m
going home.” He's talking and I'm dressing. I'm not even sure where
my clothes are. I'm speaking under my breath. “Where's the fucking
T-shirt I had on?” His T-shirt. “Where did it even get thrown
to?” I’m still whispering.
    “Listen Bria, we
don't even kiss. We’ve never kissed. Out of the one hundred sixteen
times we've fucked, and I'm sure I've made love to you five or six of
those times—”
    “What the hell!
Bryant! Okay, I get it. You don't want to do this anymore. I get it.
Fine. JUST. STOP. TALKING!” I can’t believe he kept count of our
sexual encounters. This is too much for me to accept.
    “Bria, YOU DON'T GET
IT!” I wince a little at his tone. “When we fucked without
protection, it fucking blew my mind. I didn't understand why. Then...
You know afterward; it was as if my world became your world. I felt
something, but you left that night.” He seems a bit perturbed by me
leaving that night. He says it with his teeth showing. “We usually
do breakfast and hang like nothing happened the night before. You
left... that night .”
    There go his teeth
again.
    “And it hit me, this
routine with us. Unemotional and unhealthy, we had sex, Bree, without
a condom and we never even kissed, not once.” I see the hurt in his
eyes, and the heart-protected bitch in me wants to shrug her
shoulders and say, “So.”