“FUCK YOU, BRYANT! FUCK YOU, SELFISH BASTARD!”
I hear my door slam. I'm trying not to cry. But being in my bathroom with a man I met less than two weeks ago, has me fighting back the tears threatening to surface. Cruz is standing in my bathroom rubbing his hand. He looks at me and gives me a small smile.
“Happy now?” I ask.
“About?”
“What do you think? Bryant, he's not coming back.”
“Yes, he will,” Cruz assures me.
“No. This is bigger than any fight we've ever had.”
“So.”
“So?” I question.
“Yeah. So.” He shrugs. He pushes away from the door. “You’re acting like this girl isn't going to hurt him again, Bria.” He laughs. “He knows it and you know it. Shit, I even know it and I know nothing about their shit. He'll come running back, and you'll have your ‘bestie’ back,” he speaks sarcastically.
“Too bad I won't be here,” I say, shaking my head.
“Yes, you will,” Cruz says as he tilts his head to the side as if he doesn’t believe me.
“No, Cruz. I'm serious. I won't in any way.”
“Well, I hope not in any way other than lending an ear or a pat on the back. Not any of that other shit you two did,” he says as he waves his hands in the air.
“What shit?”
“Bria, if you fuck Bryant beyond what you already have, I'll lose my damn mind.”
I just shake my head and walk away, well, attempt to walk away.
“Ouch, dammit.” He holds me up.
“You need to stay off it,” Cruz demands.
“Don't you have any gyms to run or something?”
“Or something, I have managers, Bria.”
“What about sixty-nine industries?” I ask, getting annoyed by his presence. He laughs.
“I'm where I need to be, Bria. I ordered pizza. I didn't know what you liked.”
“Pizza is fine, Cruz, thanks. I just need to shower and change.”
“Okay, can you at least stand? I can give you privacy.”
“Thanks,” I say in a hushed tone. I'm not sure what’s come over me all of a sudden, but tears pool in my eyes. All of Bryant’s words start to stab at me. His words hurt because they are true. I've never been hurt by anyone to feel this way. I've just never wanted to have any of that. Love, relationships, it's all too much for me. I'm simple. I love simple things with the best of me. Do I have high standards? Of course, I do; they are just as simple. I don't want anyone or anything from those standards.
“Honey, are you okay?” he asks in a low, gruff tone.
“Yeah, just having a moment,” I confess.
He nods. “I'll let you get comfortable.” I take off my clothes and head to the shower after he leaves the room. I turn the water on and let it cascade over my hair and down my body. I try to let the water wash away all my worries and pain; the pain Bryant caused with his words and the worries of his business with Cruz. I feel refreshed as I hop on one foot and tiptoe on the other. As I look at my ankle I notice the swelling has gone down, thanks to the trash can elevation at work. I wrap myself in a towel and hobble into my bedroom. This bed is so freaking huge it catches my breath.
“Bryant said you love his bed in his guest room; we decided you deserved one.”
I turn holding my towel tight. “You guys didn't have to do this.” He puts his finger on the side of his temple and scratches.
“I know, but—”
“But my bed was fine,” I interrupt Cruz.
He laughs. “Bria, that bed was done for.” He continues to chuckle. “If I didn't break it from that slam, I'm sure I was going to break it sooner or later.”
I hop away from where he’s standing because the heat from his body is drawing me toward him.
This guy is ruthless; he's standing in the middle of my bedroom telling me how he was going to break my bed anyway while I'm standing naked… in a towel that’s so short you get an eyeful of thigh. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed gripping my towel so hard that you can see the color change on my knuckles.
He walks toward the bed and shakes the footboard, then pushes it with his knee.
“Yeah, this is sturdy,” he confirms.
I’m sitting here trying not to be nervous about my nakedness.
“Um, has the pizza arrived?”
“Yeah, you hungry?”
“I am. I need to get changed first.”
Cruz is standing on one side of me still nudging the bed with his knee.
“I’ll go plate it. I was told that you don’t like foam or something like that.”
“No, I don’t like to eat from Styrofoam.”
“Ah, that’s it.”
He nudges my leg with his knee; my breathing picks up.
“Relax, honey,” he says to me softly as he rubs the side of my face. He bends over and kisses me on the cheek.
“Cruz, I—”
“Shhh, honey. It’s okay. I’m not him.”
“Cruz, I just can’t do this.”
“I know, Bria. You’re not.” He pushes me gently down on the bed. I’m gripping my towel so tightly my palms are on fire. He yanks the towel away and I’m caught off guard as I reach for the new bedspread. It doesn’t budge. Who in the hell made the bed?
Cruz grabs my hands and flattens them on the bed as he runs his open palms over them, over my wrists, and down my arms. His touch is so sensual I can’t believe this is actually him. I’m in shock, but my body… I think it’s humming. Cruz rubs my neck and stops at my chest. My eyes are shut so tight, I’m afraid if I see what he’s doing to me, I’ll lose control over my body. That’s when I feel it, it being his tongue. He circles my nipple and sucks it into his mouth. He’s talented with his tongue; he’s massaging my nipple with it. Never felt anything like it.
“Cruz, please.”
“Shhh, Bria,” he whispers again. He releases my nipple and blows on it, barely touching my other nipple with the tip of his index finger. He makes his way over to my other breast and my body has shifted from nervous to on fire. Cruz puts his hand behind me to pull me closer. He has a firm hold on my nipple like he’s sucking a peach, and oh my god, I can feel how wet I am.
“Cruz, please.”
“Please what, Bria? What do you want? Do you want me to stop?”
I’m silent.
“Do you want me to stop, Bria?” His tone is forceful, almost as if he’s angry.
“No,” I whisper. He grabs me and pushes my body to the center of the bed. In one swift motion, he pulls his shirt off with one hand. Oh, and my little lady is tinkling as if she’s wearing bells. He’s looking at my naked body like he’s never seen a naked body. He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Gorgeous you are.”
Cruz pulls me to him as he licks up the middle of my stomach all the way to my neck. “You taste so sweet, Bria,” he says while kissing and nipping my neck. He takes one of my hands and lifts it above my head. I've become dizzy with lust.
“Please, Cruz,” I moan.
Cruz’s hand palms my back; it's so hot, my skin is on fire. I arch my body to accommodate his mouth. He’s licking my skin in the center of my body until he's at my pelvic bone. He bites me, not hard but enough to…
“Ahhh, Cruz.”
My thighs are not quite open to him, and he nudges his shoulder for me to open them. His hands are cupping my ass cheeks and he looks up at me. His eyes have gone dark, like he's a different person. They are lidded as if he's drugged, and it makes me a little nervous.
“Open, Bria, let me in.” His voice is low and throaty. He parts my thighs and kisses the inside area leading to my opening. I moan and my body begins to shake.
“No!” he says loudly, and I jump. “Not yet,” he says in a quieter tone. He lowers his face and I feel the most erotic feeling I've ever experienced.
“Oh, my God, Cruz,” I call out to him. He's sucking on my clit in a massaging way that I can't comprehend what's happening.
I'm panting so hard I can feel my body convulsing against his mouth. It feels like a thousand little fingers hitting my G spot I have. I can't help but to scream. “Cruz!” He hasn't let up at all. He's sucking as though he likes it. I look down at him and his eyes are closed but his facial expression tells all. It's pure enjoyment and that sends me over.
“Ahhh, Cruz! Cruz, please stop; oh my God!” I try to crawl away backwards, but his grip on my ass tells me that's not happening. He grinds down on my sex with his mouth. “Cruz, I'm coming, please.” He still hasn’t let up, and my body is convulsing harder than normal.
“Give me it, Bria; let me taste your juices,” Cruz growls before he plunges his tongue into my opening. That does it. My mind is blown as I give him what he wants.
Never once have I experienced anything of this magnitude with Bryant. I've had mild orgasms, but this is more than that. I got off just from Cruz’s enjoyment of me. I came on his face, and something happened to blow my mind further. Cruz must have come too. His body jerked while he rose to his feet and as he walked to the bathroom. It's silent for a second.
“FUUUUCK” is all I hear. I can't get up to see if everything's okay. I'm sated from probably the best orgasm I've ever experienced.
As my breathing slows, I can hear what sounds like my shower going. I slowly get out of bed and limp to the bathroom to find out what's going on. I pick his pants up from the floor and place them on a shelf. He's in the shower with his hand on the wall, as his other hand is stroking his cock. It's how I remember it in the steam room, thick and long. Yeah, it definitely will do damage. I back away through the door and lay back in bed to wait on Cruz to come out. He never does. I hope he is not embarrassed; that would be awkward. I’ve dozed off when he comes back through the hall.
“Honey, get up. Eat.”
“Hmm?”
“You have to eat and take your pain medication.”
“I thought we agreed we hate taking medicine?” I remind him.
“We did, honey, but you still have to take it; doctor’s orders.”
“Okay,” I say in a gentle tone as I look at him with soft eyes.
His eyes are still dark, but he’s smiling. “Sit up,” he demands.
I sit up against the headboard of the bed. He’s staring into my eyes.
“You are so fucking gorgeous.”
I look down, slightly embarrassed by his compliment. “Thank you,” I respond.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, reaching for the plate.
“You can work from home. We purchased another laptop for you. I took it to the tech guy at your job. He’ll have it ready first thing in the morning.”
“Okay… Cruz?”
“What’s up?” He coaxes me to speak.
I pause before I ask the question in the back of my mind.
“Bria… It’s okay.”
“Okay,” I reply, not quite sure if he and I just had the same conversation, but I was referring to his orgasm or lack thereof.
* * *
We eat there in silence; and for the first time since I’ve been in the presence of Cruz, I hear his phone ring. I wonder if he has any women calling him. It’s odd because it’s never occurred to me if he does. He looks at it then hands it to me. I read what looks to be a text message. It says B. Morgan at the top of the screen.
Tell Bria to answer her phone please.
I shake my head.
Cruz says, “Okay,” and puts his phone down.
It’s getting late and my curiosity gets the best of me. I would like to know about Cruz’s little display after giving me an out-of-body experience. I’m sitting at one end of the couch and Cruz is at the other. It’s amazing how comfortable men get in someone else’s home. He’s sitting there with his shirt off with one leg up as his lounge pants show his very sculpted waist. Very lickable… God, I don’t need to think about him that way. I am affected every time; I clench my thigh muscles to ease the tension. I try not to stare at him directly, but he’s too freaking sexy. It hurts me not to glance at him every once in a while. I turn and glance at him then back at the television.
“Honey?”
“Yeah?”
“DON’T!”
“Excuse me?” I ask him.
“Don’t worry about it.” Cruz turns and looks at me. His hand is resting on his face with his index finger on his temple, while that thumb of his is brushing across his lips… those lips.
“It’s not your concern.” He breaks me from my trance.
“I’m not following you, Cruz. What’s not my concern?”
He glares at me intently. I’m trying to be serious and not laugh, but his eyes are squinted in that “you know what I’m talking about” way.
“Bria, you know damn well what I am talking about, and I’m not about to sit here and play that game with you. I told you not to concern yourself with it. So don’t!” He gets louder as he ends his statement. We’re looking at each other, saying nothing but I feel more open than normal. Are we really speaking of the same thing? I have to know.
“You don’t even know me, Cruz.” I make the statement to get a reaction from him. My logic is to put myself in the equation so he’ll explain what happened in the bedroom. If he’s telling me not to concern myself with his display of not having an orgasm, he doesn’t know that it’s not that easy with me. I can’t just let a thing like that go. He doesn’t know I’m obsessive over things that can’t be explained. However, I underestimated my logic.
Cruz looks away, then back at me. “I don’t know you, Bria?” he says accusingly.
“No, you don’t.”
He stands and in two strides is standing in front of me. He lowers himself to face me.
“Your body reacts to my voice,” he snarls.
Did he just snarl at me?
“Your breathing is erratic whenever I’m close. Your heart”—he laughs—“gallops like a black stallion. I felt it in your back when I had my mouth between your thighs.” He taps me on my temple. “I may not know this.” He points at my brain. “But this”—he points, indicating my body—“I know. It’s a tell when it comes to this,” Cruz says, again pointing back at my temple. “I’ve told you, honey, I. Will. Mind. Fuck. You.” He laughs as he stands. “I’ve already begun to.”
I exhale when he steps away because I do not want him to feel how sharp my breathing is. It doesn’t work at all.
“And she exhales.” He indicates.
“I think you should—”
“Leave?” He finishes my sentence. “Too easy, Bria, too easy. We have work to complete in the morning, so I’ll be staying. Besides, Mr. Lover might need protecting if he shows his face.” He laughs. “Man, you really cocked him a nice one across the cheek.”
I rise from the couch and attempt to hobble down the hall. Cruz grabs my arm to throw it around his shoulder. Before he can even help me to my room, I forcefully pull my arm away from him. He freezes on the spot. I don’t react to his action. I continue to my room. I shut and lock both my bedroom door from the hall and the one connected to my bathroom. “Not tonight, Mr. King,” I whisper to myself.
CHAPTER 11
Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap. I wake to this nerve-pinching sound. Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap. “Honey, are you awake?”
He can’t be serious.
“Bria,” I hear him whisper through my bedroom door.
“Cruz, go away. I’m tired; please, just go.” I’m barely audible.
“Honey, open the door,” he mumbles through the door. What’s this guy’s problem? I throw my bedspread from my new, huge-ass bed to one side, but it doesn’t make a difference. There’s still another entire side of the bed. I manage to swing my feet to one side and slowly slide onto the floor. Remembering my twisted ankle, I’m surprised when I put pressure on it. It’s less tender than it was earlier. Speaking of early…
“What time is it?” I yank the door open. “The point of whispering is so that no one hears you! What do you
want?”
“Hey, I apologize for waking you, but Bryant sort of needs you.”
“What? Cruz, fuck Bryant. He’s very irrelevant to—”
“He’s in the hospital,” Cruz reveals, interrupting my rant.
“WHAT? WHY?” I yell. It seems funny how the mind can erase the anger a person has when it’s replaced with fear and anguish.
Cruz shrugs.
“Well, how do you know?” I frantically question him while trying to find clothes.
“Um, that Cass chick called my phone. She said I was the last person he called last night. She said she’s leaving the hospital, something about her not planning on babysitting an adult who can’t hold his liquor.”
“WHAT? SHE LEFT HIM THERE!”
“Apparently,” Cruz says as he shrugs. “I thought I should wake you.” He stands there quiet for a minute. “Look, if you want, I can take you. We can…” he trails off. “I can drop you off or whatever you want, Bria.”
I’m nodding and grabbing my house keys while putting on my jacket.
“Yes, yes. Please, can we go now? Someone has to be there.”
“Yeah, of course.” He walks ahead of me to grab his keys and jacket. I didn’t notice his overnight bag. It must have been put in the hall closet because I would have had a coronary if I had seen it earlier. Cruz takes hold of my arm; he’s witnessed and well aware that I am walking with a limp.
“You should grab your crutches.”
“I’ll be fine, Cruz… I will,” I say as I look up at him. He doesn’t respond; and frankly, I think he’s being too quiet. “Are you okay?” I question him.
“Yeah, I am.” We’re at his car when he realizes there’s a note on the windshield. He looks around before he takes it and reads it. His face is strong and his jawline drops as he looks around again. He opens the passenger side door and helps me in. His facial expression is blank as he snaps the seatbelt on me.
“Give me your house keys,” he demands. And I do. I don’t want to argue. I just hand them over.
“Stay here,” Cruz says and closes the door. He goes back to the house and comes out a few minutes later.
As he gets back in the car, I ask him if everything is okay.
What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) Page 12