Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

It was easy to take things for granted. He had taken Michelle for granted and so had she in return. For the next several days she would appear and disappear as quickly as she came. It was driving Brian past the point of insanity. Every time he would try to confront her about it, she would simply brush it off as if it were nothing.

It always amazed him how different she was from Val. Sometimes he wished he knew the secret to Matt and Val’s seemingly endless bliss. So there he sat, facing the front door, waiting for Michelle like a desperate housewife, though he would never admit it. He was the one in charge. He wasn’t the one getting his heartstrings pulled at. That would never be him. Brian took a generous swig from the cool glass bottle and brought it down, holding it in his hands, letting the cold bite at his skin. He put one leg over the other and continued boring holes at the door, waiting for that knob to turn the slightest degree.

This shit was ending tonight; whether in their usual major blow-out or the occasional session of angry make-up sex, he really couldn’t care less. Evading topics and problems was never his forté especially when it came to women. That’s why he had never attached himself to anyone before Michelle. Now that he had, look where it had gotten him. He was better off alone.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the door opened revealing a glamorous Michelle against the darkened sky. He could have sworn it was daytime when he placed the recliner in front of the door. He slowly got up from the recliner, losing his balance for just a minute. The cooler beside the chair was empty. The ice had melted long ago, filling the empty bottles with water. He stared straight at her, his eyes the slightest bit unfocused only to be scoffed at by her.

The obvious act of dismissal sent a wave of heated rage throughout his every pore. He had not said one word and yet she did that. She flew past him, chuckling slightly. Brian’s jaw dropped slightly before following her in her tracks.

“Drunk again, Brian?” she jabbed, looking over her shoulder before making her way up the stairs, shopping bags rustling with every step.

Brian didn’t offer a response. Arguing on the stairs wouldn’t result in anything good. He fought every urge to tear the shopping bags out of her arms and throwing them down the stairs. He securely gripped the railing following her in silence, his jaw clenching with every passing second. He was at her heels as she stepped through the bedroom door. She put the bags on the bed and completely ignored him, slipping out of her shirt and heels.

“So,” she asked in an airy tone slipping off her jeans, as if nothing were out of place. “What’d you do today, babe?”

Waited for you.

“Hung out with Jimmy,” he said through gritted teeth, never peeling his eyes off her.

His anger was so great, not even her barely-dressed figure provided a distraction. She stood in front of the dresser, looking at Brian through the mirror, taking off her jewelry. He took a steady step forward. The adrenaline rushing through him was providing him with a momentary sense of sobriety. Her eyes turned into slits for the slightest moment. She knew this Brian well and now knew to choose her words carefully.

“In the studio?” she questioned, bending down and opening one of the drawers.

That was it. The idle pointless fucking chatter was ending at that moment.

“Where the fuck were you?” he hissed, fists clenching at his sides.

His hair cast a shadow over his face as he took one more step forward. Michelle shot him a quick glance through the mirror, knowing that they still had a safe distance between them. She pretended to look interested in what she was doing.

“Shopping.”

Brian let out a low chuckle and his nose flared momentarily. Shopping. Yeah, right, and he was Mother Teresa. This wouldn’t be the first time infidelity was a problem between them. Disappearances were the usual tip-off. She didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. What was the point? It wasn’t like he was going to win the award for Mr. Devoted anytime soon. She was tired of all the shit between them. They weren’t Matt and Val and she knew they never would be. It was only a matter of time before it got to this point.

Brian shot her a glare before walking to the bed. He grabbed the bags and shook their contents out onto the bed. His eyes stayed glued to a couple of items in particular. He picked up the negligee and matching black lace thong, walking back up to her.

“Who’s this for?” he asked flatly, eyes shooting her a steely look through the mirror. “’Cause it sure as hell ain’t for me, ‘Chelle. Who’re you fucking, huh?”

A chill ran up Michelle’s spine as he pressed against her. The familiar sensation of danger and tension yet undeniable pleasure took over her senses. It had never changed. The ecstasy that Brian gave her even with his slightest touch had never diminished. It never would. It wasn’t love that blinded her, only the primal feelings he resurrected in her time and time again. She closed her eyes momentarily, taking a shaky breath.

A glimmer of a smirk graced Brian’s lips. He knew that reaction very well. It never failed to resurface, no matter how bad things were between them. He brought up his arms on either side of her, holding the lingerie in front of her face, all the while giving her a hard look. He bent down and kissed the crook of her neck. She took a noticeably sharp breath inward.

“I don’t please you anymore, ‘Chelle…?” he murmured kissing her neck again, beginning to tear the fabric. “Tell me I don’t….”

Michelle’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to gather her thoughts. Sometimes she hated the effect he had on her. She had not expected this. He always took her by surprise. It drove her up the wall; never knowing what to expect. He let the ruined fabric drop on top of the dresser. His arms snaked their way around her bare waist, knowing he had her right where he wanted her. She took another breath, but couldn’t manage to get any words out.

He smirked, biting down on her neck with force, gaining an audible moan from her. She threw her head back and rested it against his shoulder. While one hand grasped her waist tightly, the other traveled downwards. His calloused fingers felt wonderful against her skin. She loved everything about Brian.

“Still haven’t answered me…” he teased, his fingers slipping under the elastic of her underwear.

He wasn’t expecting any sort of coherent answer. He never received one. Not from Michelle. Not from anyone. Her breathing grew more ragged and one of her hands held tightly onto his arms. Her nails dug into her skin. The slight stinging pain only excited him further, but he kept his cool. He always did. The squirming, panting, and begging was for others. He resumed kissing the same spot on her neck as his hand lowered. He took one foot and pushed her legs apart, granting him access. He rested his fingers against her clit and rubbed it gently; loving the reaction he was getting from her.

“Tell me…” he whispered harshly in her ear, rubbing more vigorously.

She opened her mouth several times, almost managing to get the words out, but only panted. She pressed herself against him, unconsciously tearing at his arm with her nails. Her eyes rolled backward behind her eyelids. She winced slightly as his grip on her waist tightened, but she dared not protest. His thumb now rubbed against her faster, she squirmed under his touch, but his grasp kept her in place. She let out a moan and bit her bottom lip. She was at his mercy.

“This,” he hissed, thrusting three fingers inside of her without so much as a warning. “This is mine."

He pulled out his fingers and thrust into her again, his thumb never stopping. The wave of pleasure and pain washed over her as he continued to pump in and out of her. Michelle crossed her ankles and let out a whimper as he bit down on her neck again.

“You got that?” he murmured.

The hand that gripped at her waist now tangled itself in her hair. He secured his grasped and pulled her head backwards, smirking all the while. He curved his fingers upward as he continued to thrust inside of her until he got the reaction he wanted out of her. Her knees buckled and she had to support her weight by grabbing onto the dresser..

“B-Brian, p-please,” she begged.

He pulled her head backwards a little more and crashed his lips onto hers, reveling in her taste and the feel of her lips. Brian curved his fingers even more, grazing her upper wall. She moaned into his mouth and shut her eyes. She was so close. He pulled away and kept his tight grip on her hair. After a minute her eyes fluttered open, a slight grimace of pain showing on her face.

He removed his fingers from inside of her and brought them up to his mouth, looking at her through the mirror. He licked them clean slowly, with no intention of finishing what he had started. His steely look in place the whole time, she couldn’t meet his gaze and looked to the side.

“Tell me he makes you moan like I do,” he said flatly, letting go of her hair and stepping away. “I fucking dare you to.”

With those words, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. Michelle still grasped at the dresser for support, tears now brimming her eyes. Her hair covered her face, but she refused to cry. They were both at fault. One way or another, this had to end.

Notes