Closer

by Kaia Bennett

  His stomach turned loops as her muscles gripped his cock, pulsing around him until she'd milked every last drop of come from him. It was a long, hard orgasm, one he'd been denying so he could make her aroused and relaxed enough to take him like this. His body jerked involuntarily, and slowed down in those last moments, as if it were trying to savor every last flutter of her virgin ass around his cock. He collapsed against her, balancing on his hands, his body dry but still thrusting.

  He rested there for a long moment, his breath wafting against her face and making the hair that wasn't matted to her cheek flutter into her eyes. He watched her blink slowly, her breath grow steady. Then she swallowed, exhaled, and smiled, and he knew she was okay. He wrapped his arm around her waist and slowly pulled out of her. He saw her wince when the last of his length freed itself from her tight ring, but it was only a brief moment of discomfort. He was grateful she'd been able to enjoy this as much as he had. He finally moved, falling onto his side and taking her with him. He held her in the fold of his arms, pulled her as tightly as he could against his body.

  It wasn't this one moment that made him get it, understand, and accept it. It was just one out of a million moments, this one being the last before realization dawned. It was the smell of her hair, like lilacs. It was the softness of her skin and the way her body trusted his, even when it caused her pain for a moment. It was the way she made him laugh, the way he missed her when he was gone. It was watching her sleep, and hearing her voice.

  "Nicole?" he said quietly, the name barely passing his lips.

  "Hmm?" she murmured, slackening in his arms, though her fingers had managed to lace themselves through his.

  He swallowed hard, staring at her dark hair, the shell of her piercing-laden ear, her neck, her creamy brown shoulder. "I love you, sweetheart."

  It was said so softly, almost a secret only he could hear. He said it close to her ear, against her skin and the smell of her hair. He said it hoping she'd hear, praying she didn't, and yet he was never more sure that it was true.

  But she didn't hear him. She was fast asleep, breathing against him peacefully. And he couldn't tell what he was feeling more: relief, or sadness.

  ***

  Gabriel suppressed a sigh as the stylist once again fiddled around with his hair, trying to orchestrate a perfectly mussed look to go with his perfectly torn jeans and his perfectly fitted “not trying too hard” t-shirt. Of course the clothes came off a rack of designer digs, and the stuff she was putting in his hair probably cost more than it did to feed the band, but whatever; this was the tedious side of business. Still, he wished she'd give it a rest, because between makeup – which still kind of skeeved him out – finding wardrobe for all the guys, and waiting for the photographer to set up individual and group shots, he was starting to get agitated with all the constant touching, poking, and prodding. He'd heard these kinds of things took forever, but he hadn't realized most of that was because of the incessant waiting.

  "Gabe! Did you hear what I said?" Nuke asked waving his hand in front of Gabe's face.

  "What!?" he said snapping his eyes up to see Nuke staring at him with a quizzical smile on his face.

  "You were zoning out on us again," Nuke said. It was something he'd been doing a lot, ever since he figured out how he really felt about Nicole. Not sleeping well wasn't helping matters either.

  "Yeah, sorry," Gabe said. "What were you saying?"

  "He asked if you were coming out with us after the shoot," Chase said, checking his hair in the mirror and scowling. His sandy locks had more product in it than he was happy with. In that respect, he and Gabe were on the same page.

  Gabe shook his head at Chase. "Nah, promised Nic we'd chill tonight. It's been a while since it was just the two of us. Oh, and that reminds me…” He turned to Nuke. “I need the place to myself Friday night. That cool?" Nuke shrugged his okay.

  "How come nobody asks me if they can have the place to themselves, huh?" Q said over the head of the girl holding up a jacket to see if it went well with his current outfit. "I live there, too. And Nuke just had the place to himself when he brought that chick over last week! I'm getting real tired of crashing on Jonny's musty-ass couch, man. For real, for real.”

  "Why don't you hit up Kiki, if you hate my couch so much? Jonny said around a barely contained chuckle from the couch they'd be shooting on next. "Maybe she'll remember your ass this time."

  Q shot Gabriel an imploring look, shaking his head so hard that his dreads were smacking him in the face, as if to say, Please don't make me stay with him again. But Gabriel just shook his head.

  "You get no sympathy from me, dude," Gabe replied with a grin. "I was supposed to have the place for Valentine's Day, but then you had to go and get the flu on me. You owe me one."

  Nicole's walls were a little on the thin side, and their energetic coupling was gaining them some notoriety on her floor. He'd wanted to use his place for Valentine's Day, to celebrate their official couple status and finishing the album. He'd wanted to take his time and enjoy himself with her. Instead they had to keep things muffled, and then, when they forgot to be quiet anyway, listen to that old bitch next door banging on the wall. He was going to have to get his own place soon so her neighbors could stop giving him dirty looks when he came over to visit.

  "Fuck me...” Q groused, obviously not looking forward to Jonny's couch again.

  "Ha! Maybe if you actually got someone to fuck you wouldn't have to crash at my place, loser."

  Q shot an angry glare at Gabe. "You better hit it good, dude, 'cause it's gonna be a while before I give up my bed again so you can hang out with Nicole." He used a high pitched voice when he said her name, batting his eyelashes and pouting his full lips, as if he were pretending to be her.

  Gabriel chuckled and finally stepped around the stylist, who had released him from her bonds so they could go back to posing for pictures.

  "Anyone ever tell you, you really look like a chick when you do that?" Chase said, taking a seat on the couch. "For real, Q. You’re kinda pretty."

  Q sneered at him, and then at Jonny, who was laughing and fiddling around with his phone. "Chase, I know you think I'm pretty and all... 'cause I am," he said, popping his collar and giving a million dollar grin that lit up his brown face. Then the grin died. "But I don't swing that way, and you keep looking at me like that, I'ma tell Trish."

  Just then Jonny's ringtone came on, playing Hall and Oates' “Maneater”.

  He laughed ridiculously loud as he looked around at the guys, and then said, "That's Mere."

  A collective groan and laughter circulated the group.

  Nuke looked at Jonny and shook his head. "You're fucking ridiculous, dude. I don't know what she sees in you."

  Jonny gave him the middle finger, then turned to Gabriel with a conspiratorial grin. "I don't know how you did it, man," Jonny said with a laugh, alluding to the time when Gabriel was hooking up with Meredith. "She is wearing me out."

  Jonny was having fun joking every chance he got about his off and on escapades with Meredith Rowe. They weren't serious, and having hung out with Meredith before, the guys knew she was as candid about sex as anyone could get, which was strictly what she had going with Jonny. There was a time when talking about a mutual fuck-buddy wouldn't have been a big deal to Gabe. But when it came to this particular girl, it wasn't quite that simple, and he found it hard to joke and laugh about Meredith's appetite with the rest of them. It was Nuke, the most perceptive guy in the group, who seemed to notice the hitch in Gabe's smile and the shadow cast over his gaze.

  "Yo," he said leaning over a bit, whispering while the guys continued to talk about Jonny and Meredith, "You okay?" His brown eyes were unnerving, watching Gabe too closely for him to feel comfortable.

  "Fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He shrugged as they got back into position for the next group of shots, forcing himself to ignore Nuke's gaze. He hopped onto the armrest next to Q, who was seated on the cushion. Jonny was sprawled out on the floo
r on the other side of Q. Chase was on the other side of Jonny, seated on the cushion, and Nuke "accidentally" kneed Jonny in the chest as he climbed over him to perch on the back of the couch.

  "What the fuck, man?!" Jonny wheezed, coming up off the floor just enough to smack Nuke on the side of his curly head. This resulted in Nuke smacking him upside the head with a pillow on the couch. Of course, it swung wide and also hit Chase in the face, who then grabbed the pillow and hit Nuke so hard with it, that he fell off the back of the couch, and got stuck between it and the brick wall behind them.

  Shooting was halted for a half an hour while the stylist fixed Nuke's make up and the slight bruise on the side of his head. Then after that, they had to wait for Jonny and Q to stop laughing and mimicking the squeal Nuke let out before he thunked to the floor. Just when they would start to recover their composure, Gabe or Chase would let out a snicker, and they all would start laughing again. It was a longer shoot than they anticipated.

  They snapped picture after picture of the guys in various sitting positions on a couch, leaning up against the walls, or sprawled out on the hardwood floor of a stylishly grungy loft, which was probably worth more per month than Gabriel used to make in three at his old employment recruiter job. He reminded himself of that whenever he felt the strong urge to slap the stylist's hand away from his hair. He also reminded himself he was just cranky after a day of interviews with a top magazine, radio stations, and scheduling for their first video to go with their first single. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying himself or he wasn't grateful. It was just that he had a lot of things on his mind - specifically Nicole, and one little phrase he couldn't get out of his head since the night he’d spoken it aloud to her sleeping form.

  He still got nervous and antsy just thinking about it and how he was going to tell her. If he was going to tell her. But then, just thinking about Nicole would bring a smile to his face. A faint one crossed his lips at that very moment as he recalled the last time they were together a couple of nights ago, and he found himself wishing he were near her despite his fear. They had been in the midst of planning an evening out. Yet another party with fellow musicians at a popular club they liked. It was early in the game, but with their first single blowing up on the radio and people passing their early music around on the internet, it was fast becoming possible to enjoy the perks of the business. One of those was getting to show his girl off at the best clubs and parties in the city.

  "The red one, or the blue one?" she'd asked, trying to get his opinion on what she should wear to the club. She'd been standing on her bed, springing lightly from to foot to foot and holding up two dresses in her hands. He was lying down between her legs, staring up at her and her possible outfits.

  "Neither," he said, frowning. The blue one was low cut, and the red one was too short.

  She flopped her arms down to her sides and gave him an exasperated expression. She'd already gone through three other dresses trying to find the one he'd like.

  "Don't you want me to look pretty for you?"

  He laughed at that, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at her. "I'm a simple guy to please. If all I wanted was for you to look pretty for me, sweetheart, I'd tell you to lose the tank top and those panties. But, those," he said, nodding at the options she'd given him, "are for looking pretty for other people. People I don't feel like fucking up because they're hitting on you all night."

  "Ugh, whatever, dude. Red one it is."

  "Hey, did you hear what I said?"

  She scoffed and turned her back on him, hopping down from the bed and tripping a little in the process, which elicited a chuckle from Gabriel. She turned and scowled.

  "I heard you, old man," she replied. "I'm just choosing not to listen to your stupid, possessive man-speak when it comes to my wardrobe. You didn't have any objections when I wore them for you."

  "I was thinking about fucking you the entire time you were in those things! Of course I didn't have a problem with them," he yelled. "That's all anyone can think about when you wear shit like that!"

  "Well, then channel the ‘acceptance’ you used to have when I wear the red one Friday night, and all will be well, won't it?"

  Gabriel sat up slowly, a little bit of his increasingly jealous nature showing through his amusement. "What if I told you to wear something else?"

  She snorted and shot him a look over shoulder while she put her dresses back. "I'd tell you to get bent, 'cause you can't tell me to do anything. I'm grown now and can wear whatever I want."

  He had to laugh at that, even as he got to his knees, leapt off the end of the bed and walked confidently towards her while she backed up into her closet.

  "That so, little girl?" He grabbed her around the middle and dragged her back to the bed with a playful swat to her ass. "Playful" was still loud enough to echo through the room and make her yelp. "You gonna tell me to get bent now? Hmm?"

  She giggled as he tossed her backwards onto the bed and covered her body before she could scoot away.

  "Get. Bent," she whispered, turning her head from side to side on each perfectly enunciated word. Her voice was dripping with teasing antagonism, her seductive smile mere centimeters from his.

  A half hour later it was her getting bent as much as humanly possible. Getting bent over; getting her legs bent back into her chest while he pounded into her; getting her neck bent back because he was tugging her hair and commanding her to ride him. After the workout, she'd still decided to wear the dress, but she also promised to stay by his side, and to give him a taste of what no one else could have all that night when they returned to her place.

  "I'll do whatever you want... after the party... if you shut up about my... dress already," she managed to get out around her steadying breaths.

  "Word?" he asked, somewhat breathlessly, quirking an eyebrow.

  "Word," she said with a nod, a sigh of exhaustion, and a little laugh. "We tend to have similar tastes in after party fun anyway. Shouldn't be too much of a chore for me."

  He'd just smiled wickedly, thinking about the next thing he was going to try with her after they went out on Friday night.

  That night she'd snuggled up against him, her arms folding into her chest, and her soft face nuzzling his neck. He'd felt like he was drowning in emotions he couldn't contain when she pressed her lips to his skin for a soft, lingering kiss before drifting off to sleep. It was becoming a pattern that he was unable to fall asleep with her. He wished he could be as peaceful as she was, but all he could think about was her, how much he wanted to tell her he loved her, and how much that terrified him. The moment you said the L-word to a girl, it was all over. If she did feel the same way, it eventually turned into a question of where things were going for the relationship. It always did.

  And if she didn't feel the same way...

  He didn't want to think about that. It was worse than the alternative. But he knew himself, or at least he thought he did. That talk about what would become of them would turn into to talk of real commitment, just like it had with Marta. Marriage. Tiny people that slobbered and cried and required him to be a real grown up. He didn't want to get married. When he thought about his life later on, all those things were huge blanks. What kind of fool would he be if he started trying to fill them in with a twenty-two year old that may, or may not feel the same? No matter how wonderful she was. Or beautiful. Or incredibly fucking sexy and perfect for him.

  He inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to keep his sigh from disturbing her. Just thinking those thoughts made him feel like an idiot, made him want to shake her awake and tell her what was on his mind. Why was he being so morbid about the whole thing? What bad had ever come from being honest with her?

  He'd laid a kiss on her forehead then. His eyes had closed and he savored the feel of her in his arms, the feel of her naked body against his. She was so warm, soft, and trusting in his arms. That's the thought he fell asleep to.

  Nothing should feel this good. It would be too scary if it we
nt away...

  Cha

  pter 14

  Later that night Gabriel and Nicole decided a trip to the movies would be a nice change of pace for them. Parties and bars were great, but it had been a while since it had just been the two of them going somewhere relatively sedate. When they weren't hanging out with a group, they were on such separate schedules that it was hard to get together.

  Gabriel was promoting the album, playing small venues, doing interviews, and getting ready for his first video. Nicole was working, and tentatively searching for a new 9 to 5. She was also checking in on Jackie, who at this point was headed into her twenty-sixth week of pregnancy. In between those obligations, she'd been hanging out with Trish and their mutual friends, and had been fiddling around with writing more and more. Life felt good for the moment, but fast paced; so she was glad they were getting an opportunity to relax and quietly enjoy each other.

  They'd decided to see a new comedy and Gabe suggested she get the snacks while he paid for the tickets. She was fifth in line when she felt someone lean in and a deep voice say against her ear, "What up, stranger?"

  She squealed and turned, her surprise immediately replaced by a smile when she looked up into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

  "Fuck, Travis!" she laughed, punching him in the shoulder. "Not cute!"

  He laughed and shook his black hair out of his eyes. Eyes that were giving her that familiar look; friendliness laced with the memories of something much more intimate. She felt herself flush with embarrassment. He looked good, dressed in black jeans, sneakers, and a jade-green t-shirt that made his eyes seem brighter than usual. It was easy to see how his good looks, and the way he gazed at her, had gotten him access to her bed all those months ago.