Unspoken Endings

by Gabbie S. Duran

“Perfect!” he says, the camera rapidly shuttering away. “Now give me lust.”

  Trying my best to deliver his command, I think of Matt, but it’s not satisfying enough for him. “That’s it? I want your ‘you’ve just been fucked’ look.”

  Staring at the photographer as if he’s lost his mind doesn’t earn me points with him. “Is that seriously how you look when you’re being fucked?” he sarcastically asks. My mouth drops open as I stare gaping at him from the question. The photographer’s eyes are now looking in Matt’s direction. “You must not be doing your job right if that’s all she can give me!”

  “Turn!” is the photographer’s next demand. His camera shutters away for the next minute before he’s next shouting, “Take ten for a wardrobe change!” leaving me happier than I’ve felt for the last hour as I walk my way back to my dressing room.

  “Tell them we need a minute,” Matt says into my ear as soon as I’m done changing.

  “Um, can you guys give me a couple of minutes?” I politely ask the interns in the room.

  They look confused at first, but with a shrug of a shoulder the first one leaves the room with the other soon following. Matt walks with them to the door. “Make sure they don’t come back in until I open the door,” Matt orders Julio before I hear the click of the shutting door.

  Turning to face me, he has a mischievous smile on his lips as he leisurely stalks his way back over to me. “What are you doing?” I somehow succeed in asking with the butterflies now taking over my body. His silence and hooded gaze staring back at me are making my body scream with yearning of what will come.

  “Face the mirror,” he commands in a low tone, sending a ripple down my spine. Facing the mirror over the counter, my eyes go straight up to meet Matt’s. He stops to stand directly behind and the familiar spiced aroma that is uniquely Matt’s is radiating off his body, driving my senses wild as I breathe him in. Wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer to his hard chest, my back feels every inch of his chiseled body. Closing my eyes to allow my senses to take over, his warm breath caresses my ear. “I’m claiming what you owe me.”

  Snapping my eyes open in confusion, I look back into his eyes. “The race,” he reminds me. “I’m going to make sure you look like you’ve just been thoroughly fucked when you go back out there,” he utters into my ear.

  “Matt, we can’t have sex,” I say, trying to sound stern as I remind him of his doctor’s orders. But my words are full of bluster as I push myself into his stiffened erection rubbing my butt. A small moan of satisfaction vibrates down my throat from the contact.

  “Who said anything about me fucking you? I’m just going to make sure you come,” he huskily promises.

  My eyes close, engulfing me in darkness, my sense of touch taking over as Matt’s warm hands glide against my body. They stop at my breasts, now grasping and teasing them while his mouth trails kisses along my neck. My shudders intensify with every inch of skin he touches.

  “I love the way your body responds to my touch,” he says, his deep tone vibrating into my ear. “And the little sounds you make drive me wild,” he adds, pushing himself into my body.

  Knowing what we’re doing is wrong, completely forbidden due to doctor’s orders, I struggle to pull away from Matt who tightens his grip, forbidding me to move. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you,” Matt growls into my ear.

  “Matt,” I whimper as he nips at my neck. “Please, stop. This isn’t fair,” I plead.

  “What’s not fair?” he asks. “I’m simply giving that asshole what he wants. I’m going to make you look like you were just fucked. You’re going to show him how beautiful you look when I’m done with you.”

  Immediately after he delivers the words, my body is pushed forward and onto the counter, forcing my hands to catch me. His hands are impatiently tugging my dress up my waist and within second I feel the cool breeze against my bare legs.

  “Matt, stop,” I demand. My protest is replaced with a desperate whimper when his fingers brush my center and start exploring, leaving me breathless and unable to speak.

  “Damn, beautiful. You’re so wet and warm,” his deep voice rumbles behind me while his fingers travel deeper inside my walls. Soon they’re pumping back and forth with determined force. It’s Matt’s familiar way of pushing me towards my completion. “Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at how beautiful you look right now.”

  When I open my eyes to look at myself in the mirror, it spirals me higher to my peak. “I want you to see what you look like when I make you come.”

  My eyes obey his command and stay locked on my reflection. The sight of Matt standing behind me intensifies the pleasure roaming through my body. I can already feel myself stiffening and an exhilaration slowly starting to build. Matt’s fingers quicken their thrusting as they pump inside of me with abandon. Feeling my body ready to explode, my head drops down as I continue to moan. Matt’s hand digs into my hair and jerks my head back up. “I told you to keep your eyes open, and you’re going to listen to me.”

  The possessiveness in his words should scare me, but instead I instantly shatter and I’m coming around his fingers as he quickens his movements. I ride out my orgasm as Matt refuses to stop until I have nothing left in me. The hand tightly wrapped in my hair loosens its grip and I slump down onto the counter. His fingers slowly pull from my core while my body is still shuddering from my mind-blowing orgasm he just gave me.

  Pulling my body flush to his chest, his lips are now kissing me below my ear. “I hope you remember what you looked like,” he conveys with a smile on my lips. I’m still too weak to speak, let alone move any part of my body.

  “Come on. Back to work, beautiful,” Matt says with a chuckle, now pushing my dress back down to cover my lower body. Finding the strength to move, my butt brushes up against the still evident erection bulging in Matt’s pants.

  “I hope you don’t plan on walking out there with this,” I huskily whisper into his ear while gripping it in my hands. He lets out a frustrated groan.

  “I thought the time apart from you left me with the worst case of blue balls, but I’ve been proven wrong today.”

  “I’m not the only one counting down the days until you can thoroughly fuck me,” I relay into his ear. He groans again and I feel the bulge in my hand jump. A demanding knock sounds at the door, breaking our conversation.

  “Time’s up in there,” someone shouts from the other end. Matt angrily pulls away, already stalking his way back to the door. Pulling it open, the photographer is now staring into the room.

  “You were due on the set ten minutes ago,” he angrily lets out.

  “We were discussing something,” Matt nonchalantly tells him.

  Not bothering to look at Matt, but at me instead, he says, “Having sex isn’t the job she’s getting paid to do.”

  Before I have a chance to snarl back at his remark, Matt is in his face with fury radiating off his body. “You talk to her like that one more time and I’ll make sure to deck you so hard you won’t be able to speak anymore.”

  He’s about to say something, but Julio cuts him off next. “And I’ll make sure to help him.”

  Silently, his eyes flash between Matt and me before he turns to stomp away like a child who was just scolded. Matt walks back to me to take a hold of my hand with a satisfied smile. Remembering the condition Matt was in before he’d opened the door makes my eyes look down to find it no longer there.

  “Being pissed at that asshole made it disappear,” Matt informs me and somehow I’m still managing to blush from knowing he’s caught me looking for his erection. “Don’t worry, beautiful, when you deliver what he’s asking of you, I’m pretty sure I’ll be hard again in seconds.”

  I’m now walking out of the dressing room with a thoroughly fucked face, exactly what the photographer was demanding of me earlier. Maybe this job is only satisfying when I have Matt on the set with me—something I should take into consideration when I schedule the
m.

  I FEEL EXHAUSTED... Tired. My eyes begin to slowly drift closed again when Matt says, “Almost home,” as he squeezes my hand. My exhaustion is now replaced with excitement from the notion of almost being home. Tired as I am, I knew we were heading home this morning, which is the only reason why I’d woken up so early.

  Matt’s discomfort from not sleeping well is now affecting me. He’d awakened every so often to adjust himself while letting out painful groans, which alarmed me to awaken every time it happened. I kept insisting he take one of his prescribed painkillers instead of the over-the-counter ones, but he still refused. He was sticking to his declaration of no longer being doped up on the addicting pain medication.

  I understood his dilemma of not wanting to get addicted to them, but seeing him in pain was upsetting with the grimacing expression he always seemed to carry around now. Looking out the window as I use the scenic route leading to our home to distract me, my lips form up into contented smile.

  Our home...

  I never thought I’d be catching myself saying the words, let alone think I’d ever have a place to call home. But since the day I moved in with Matt, it’s all he’s ever made me believe. Sometimes I wonder how my life would turn out if I had not found Matt. I know for sure it wouldn’t have the blissful happiness I feel everyday I’m with him as I do now. When the town car pulls onto our street, my eyes find Matt’s.

  ”Welcome home,” I croak out from the emotion already built inside of me.

  The car has barely come to a stop and Trey is already climbing out while Julio opens Matt’s door to help us out. Taking in Julio’s form, he looks just as exhausted as I feel and he must from the ordeals we’ve been through this week.

  “Why don’t you take the next week off? Take a vacation with your mom,” I suggest. He lights up a little at the proposition, but quickly grows skeptical before asking, “You sure? What’s going to happen if I leave town and you need me?”

  “I really don’t feel like doing anything but lounging at home. So you’re safe to ignore me,” I say with a smile.

  “What about your runs?”

  Crap, I hadn’t really thought of that. “I'll live. We’ve been through enough this week. We both deserve a vacation,” I state, knowing how true those words are.

  With a short nod, Julio agrees. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Go have fun and tell your mom I said hi.” He waits until the driver is done taking our bags in before giving me another nod goodbye and climbs back into the car for his ride home.

  “That was nice of you,” Matt says to me while leading me inside.

  “I haven’t given him any time off since Christmas, and after the week we’ve had, he deserves it,” I genuinely say.

  The moment we walk in the door, Trey is already trying to exit it. “I’m off to get some ass,” he states, brushing by us. “I’ll make sure to get enough for the both of us Matt,” he shouts back to us, already at his Jeep. I swear, sometimes that boy drives me to want to murder someone, but nevertheless, he’s grown on me.

  Matt is already pulling me to the room after we shut the door. “Want to go have sex?” The enthusiasm he put into the question makes me laugh as I shake my head. “I’m serious,” he continues.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure Trey will keep his word and have sex for the both of us. Come on, I’m tired and I need your chest to sleep,” I mention, already pulling him to the bed. With most of our clothes off, we climb into bed and Matt’s hands are starting to work their magic to fuel my desire.

  “Matthew Garcia, if you don’t stop trying to provoke me you’re going to end up sleeping in the spare room again. Sleep!” I order, earning me a frustrated groan.

  “I swear, woman, my balls may be shriveled up and useless by the time I can fuck you again.” I simply chuckle from his comment, too tired to dispute him. Even if his statement were possible, I’d make sure to remedy the problem when the time came. Until then, all I want to do is spend quality time with the person I love and almost lost.

  AS USUAL WHEN I’m bored, I scroll the internet. Sometimes it’s perfect to help the time go by, but other times it can be a curse. This afternoon it’s the latter.

  ‘Former manager shot dead my supermodel, Abigail Adams,’ the headlines read, draining me of the blood in my body.

  My heart stops beating. My throat feels as if it’s constricting and forbidding me to breathe. The world around me is beginning to spin out of control and the banana I’d eaten just minutes ago is already coming up. Reaching for the trash bin Matt keeps at the side of the bed, the contents of my stomach come completely up, leaving me dry heaving with nothing left.

  I’m still dizzy as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and slump myself back onto my bed. Trembling, I bring the iPad mini back up to look at the screen, hoping my eyes were deceiving me. When I open it up again, I am proven wrong as I stare down at the headlines across the screen.

  With my heart now beating out of control and pounding against my chest, my mind is racing with turmoil as I ask myself how in the hell did they find out. I was told by the police department they would keep the records private, yet here I am reading the details of what I’ve done splattered across the headlines.

  As much as I don’t want to read the article, I know deep down inside I must. Clicking on the link while holding my breath, I take in the outlined details they’ve written. They’ve left out the most important part of it all: How I’d defended myself. To them, I’ve killed a man and I’m considered a murderer.

  Refusing to keep reading the article, I move onto another, but it’s not much different from the first one. Every article I proceed to scan through pretty much detail the same events, as if they’ve been sold a similar story and refused to get the actual details. It shouldn’t surprise me. To them this is a prime story as it’s currently written and anything different wouldn’t get them the front page story where it’s currently sitting.

  The tears flowing from my eyes are now obstructing my vision and I’m convulsing from the crying that began minutes ago. I’m desperately trying to gasp for air, but it feels useless. Instead, I spend the next hour miserably crying before my phone rings. The lyrics to Umbrella are singing to me, telling me it’s Kelly calling.

  Picking up my phone to answer the call, I glide my finger across the screen to answer. Instead of speaking, I whimper into the phone. “Hang in there, Abigail. I’m on my way,” she sympathetically expresses.

  “Okay,” I muster through my tears before hanging up the phone, not realizing I didn’t even tell her goodbye. I’m too distracted to even think straight. I don’t know how much time goes by, but as Kelly promised, she is soon walking through my bedroom and straight to me to wrap her arm around my shoulders.

  “I tried calling Matt, but he didn’t answer. He texted me back. Do you want me to tell him to come home right away?” she asks, but I frantically shake my head knowing how important it is that Matt stays in class. “Trey is already on his way home, though,” she finishes saying.

  Immediately after she says the words, I hear the front door slamming, making me flinch as Trey’s distinctive stomps make their way to my room. He stops at the doorway, his piercing blue eyes looking back at me. He looks furious, his fisted hands hanging to his side looking ready to punch something.

  “How did they find out?” Kelly’s question floats in the room. At first I think she’s asking me, but when I look up to answer she’s already staring daggers at Trey.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” he angrily growls. “Abigail, I need your phone,” he orders, already holding out his hand for it.

  “Why?” I rasp out around my tears. “I’m going to start making phone calls to your people at the design show. That asshole is already scared of me, so it will be easy to get it out of him,” he proclaims as I hand him the phone.

  Grabbing it from my hands, he turns to stomp away, already cursing the world. Within minutes, Trey returns with a glass
of water and some pills.

  “Take them, they’ll help you sleep.”

  “What are they?” Kelly confusedly asks.

  “They’re Matt’s pills.”

  Shaking my head in refusal, I try pushing them away. Trey is persistent and shoves them into my hand. “Take them. They’ll knock you out. You need it, supermodel.”

  I look from Kelly to Trey and both their eyes are encouraging me to take them. Doing as told, I throw the pills into my mouth and swallow them down with the water. I know I shouldn’t be taking them, but at this point I just want to shut out the world and I know sleeping will help me do that.

  Satisfied that I’ve taken the pills, Trey leaves me alone with Kelly. Twenty minutes later, I feel the effects of the medication. In that time my convulsing has slowly begun to calm down, left with only the shuddering aftereffects of my crying. My mind is slowly starting to feel like I’m in a fog and my eyes are growing heavy. With Kelly’s continuous soothing, I’m soon succumbing to the darkness demanding to take me and I willingly submit.

  CONFUSED, I LOOK down at the text message Kelly sent me immediately after I’d ignored her call. She knows I’m in class, so why would she call me? Reading the message, I’m beginning to wonder if it has something to do with Abigail.

  Make sure to come straight home after class. – Kelly

  Is Abigail okay? - Matt

  She doesn’t immediately respond, which is only pissing me off. Why would she text me only minutes ago and not respond when I’ve texted her back right away? Needing an answer, I text Trey next wondering if he’ll know anything.

  Kelly just texted me, is there something wrong? - Matt

  I send it off and wait. Minutes later, I’m still waiting. When I look down at the time I take notice that I have fifteen minutes left until I’m done with class, but those last fifteen minutes endlessly drag by. Right now, I’m wondering if I should have taken the doctor’s advice of medical leave from school. When he’d suggested it, I’d kindly refused, knowing I was almost done anyway. There was no way I was letting something stop me from graduating.