Sound Effects and Overdramatics

I was tucked between Brian's legs as he nuzzled my neck and played with my fingers. I leaned my head back against his chest, eyes closed.

Everything was still and quiet, even my mind. I was totally in the present, thinking of nothing except the room service Brian ordered and his lips on my skin. It was late, but I didn't want to sleep.

His mouth found the soft spot between my neck and shoulder and I let out a quiet moan. I was all for starting another round, but my stomach growled in protest.

"Okay, okay. Should be here soon." He pushed me up so he could get up and reach the cigarettes. I laid back and admired the view as he strutted around naked.

"I'm glad we did this."

He yawned as he brought the cigarettes to the bed. He lit two and handed me one, sitting on the edge in case someone knocked.

"I am too."

"It can't always be like this, though."

"Couples fight, Lor. It's what happens afterward that matters. We've been through more than most and we have done a shitty job of handling it."

I reached for his hand and smoked. "No. I've done a shitty job of handling it. You've been a saint."

He gave me a look that said he wanted to argue with me but thought better of it. "I promised you in London I wasn't giving up on us. I meant it. We can get through anything. You just gotta trust me."

I blew smoke out of my mouth slowly. "You gotta trust me, too."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

I leaned in to kiss him. Talking to him was getting easier. Here, I wasn't concerned with anything but working on our relationship. We still had a long way to go. but we'd made a good start.

His hands started exploring, sliding up my legs and sides as he moved to lay on top of me. With impeccable timing, a knock on the door announced the arrival of our dinner.

Brian made sure I was adequately covered before he put on a pair of boxers to answer it. The guy rolled the cart in, trying to keep his face neutral as Brian walked back to the bed.

"Would you like me to set the table, sir?"

"No, it's okay. Thank you." He handed him a folded fifty and waited for him to leave before bringing the cart over and lifting the silver domes off the plates.

The scent of perfectly cooked steak topped with garlic butter met my nose and my mouth watered. Accompanying the eight ounce was a bowl of rice pilaf and a side of roasted asparagus and red potatoes topped with parmesan.

We ate quietly, enjoying the food and each other. I hadn’t eaten since this morning, so I was starved. I wasn’t sure if Brian ate at the studio or not, but he wasn’t taking his time savoring each bite, either.

While I started the water in the extra large jacuzzi tub, Brian set the cart out into the hall. He came back and circled one arm around me, sweeping aside my hair with his other hand and kissing the base of my neck.

He helped me out of my shirt and cupped my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. When I leaned forward to add bubbles, pushing my ass against him, he groaned.

I smiled and turned, giving him a full kiss before kneeling down, pulling his boxers down with me. I took him into my mouth with no warning. He moaned in surprise and stumbled back half a step, not having anything to brace himself against.

The sound of the water hitting the tub, and then water on water, filled the room, and Brian's near inaudible gasps of pleasure mixed with it while I sucked him off, using my hands and mouth all over. When I stopped, he pouted.

I kissed him, slid my pajama shorts down my legs, and gestured for him to get into the tub. As soon as he was submerged up to his chest in water and bubbles, I got in after him and straddled him, easily sliding myself on top.

His fingers dug into my sides with bruising force as I began rocking against him, keeping my movements slow.

"You're fucking killing me." He told me with a smile. I kissed him, dragging my nails across his scalp and down his neck.

I picked up my speed and bit into his neck.

"And I will die a very happy man."

Smiling against his skin, I pulled on his hair and dragged my teeth across the hollow of his throat. He hissed and I rocked against him even faster.

He didn't give me a chance to keep going. With a growl that echoed around the room, he had me up and bent over the edge of the edge of the tub.

This wasn't the slow and sensual stuff we'd been having a go at since we had come up from the pool. This was raw and dirty and pure carnal instinct.

He wrapped his fist in my hair and pulled my head back so he could bite into my neck and shoulder. He pounded into me, barely giving me a chance to catch my breath. I linked my fingers with his as he had one hand wrapped around my stomach and cried out.

Using his knees, he pushed my legs further apart. He went deeper and I bit my lip trying to keep myself from screaming louder. I folded over the edge of the tub, gasping as my body clenched around him in yet another orgasm.

"Fuck." He spat out. He released my hair and wrapped his other arm over my shoulder, keeping my body as tight against him as he could. He went to kiss my other shoulder and ended up biting down instead, breaking skin as his body gave out and he came.

His movements slowed, our breathing ragged. I didn't mind the quick and dirty or the bruises that were sure to be there In the morning. I relaxed against him and reached my hand back to grab his neck and turned to kiss his cheek.

He turned me so he could kiss me properly. He put my arms over his shoulders and cupped my face in his hands, kissing me full on the mouth, our lips parted. I was already breathless, but I wanted to drown in his kiss.

I followed when he went to pull away, keeping my mouth locked on his and pushing him against the other side of the tub.

Finally, I pulled away. He took a breath and stared at me, quiet, happy, and in love.

Before I could kiss him again, he opened his mouth and said, "marry me."

I blinked. I moved away. I got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me, completely stunned.

"Laurel," he moved to get out after me. I walked out before he could.

I lit a cigarette with shaky hands and started to pace, glancing in his direction when he came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.

"Laurel, sit down. Let's talk about this."

"Brian, I did not say let's go to Vegas so we could get married. I said let's go to Vegas so we could get shitfaced and gamble and maybe get a tattoo. Christ."

"I know!" He shouted. And again, quieter, "I know, but...we're here and I love you and I want to do this."

"Brian, come on. You don't propose just because you just got done having amazing sex. You plan something special, send a thousand yellow daisies, hide the ring in the champagne glass."

I couldn't look at him. I was too busy pacing and chain smoking, trying to rationalize enough not to agree with him. He was rummaging in his bag, paying no attention to me.

I stopped and almost fell on my face when he grabbed my hand and held out a jewelry box. A small, square, blue velvet box.

Honestly, I looked at it with disbelief. I didn’t gasp or cry tears of happiness or surprise. I took it from him and flipped the lid open, half-expecting to find Michelle’s discarded ring, but Brian had too much class for that.

It wasn’t a diamond, but a pearl. Black, opalescent, with sapphire and diamond accents on either side and a silver band. It was elegant and simple and perfect.

The box shook in my hand. I had to close it and hand it back to him, speechless.

“I’m not asking because of what we just did in the bathtub. I’m asking because I’ve done a lot of thinking this week. I want to marry you. I want to come home from being on the road for three months and fall into your arms. I want you to come on the road with me and hang backstage or in the pit and rock out to your favorite band watching the man you love play his heart out for you. I want to be there for you. The ups and downs and the crazy.” He couldn’t look at me as he spoke. He stared at the box he held loosely in his hand. He set it on the end table and stood up to pull clothes out of his duffel. I was at a loss for words.

He put on a pair of jeans and then a shirt. I watched him sit and put on socks and then shoes. He lit a cigarette with his elbows on his thighs, still not looking at me.

The slow stream of smoke he exhaled came with the patience of a saint.

After a few minutes of silence, he put the cigarette out and stood. I watched him walk to the door, trying to find the words, but none came.

“I’m gonna play some cards for a while. I’d love it if you joined me when you were ready.”

“Brian,” I finally managed. He turned, his hand on the doorknob. I walked over and reached for his hand. “You know I love you, right?”

He responded with a kiss and then he was out the door. I sat down on the bed and picked up the box. I didn’t even open it to see the ring. I didn’t need to. I knew what it looked like and what it meant. Staring at the box was enough.