Author: LadyExcalibur2010 PM
A homeless shelter in Jacksonville. Edward's a scruffy, closed-off Adonis. Bella's a bossy ball-buster who is scarred inside and out. When they meet? Sparks!Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 16 - Words: 35,354 - Reviews: 168 - Favs: 204 - Follows: 279 - Updated: 04-03-11 - Published: 04-13-10 - id: 5893764
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.
Author's Note: Yes, I'm back to work on this one. It just wouldn't leave me alone.
Chapter 16: And Then Nothing
"So, don't ask me no questions
And I won't tell you no lies
So, don't ask me about my business
And I won't tell you goodbye."
Don't Ask Me No Questions, written by Gary Rossington and Ronnie Van Zant, performed by Lynyrd Skynyrd
One by one, the rest of them crashed. Jasper and Alice had set up an inflatable mattress in the living room, their usual plan when we partied like this. Rose curled up beside Emmett on the uncomfortable guest bed. I wondered idly when – if - they'd finally end up fucking. They'd been dancing around it as long as I could remember. For some reason, Emmett was the one guy on the planet that Rose had never made a move on. She'd even once propositioned Jasper in a teasing way, offering to allow Alice into the act. They'd declined and cut Rose off from the tequila. One time, when we were still in high school, Rose had planted a kiss on me and put her hand down my jeans to cup my cock.
The kiss had been oddly unsettling, like kissing my sister. And my dick hadn't been impressed at all. We'd parted ways with the understanding that yeah...we weren't going there. Ever. But not once had Emmett ever hinted that she'd made a pass at him. Which was odd, since Rose pretty much hit on anything male, at least in theory. She liked to flirt, but that didn't mean she was willing to put out for anyone. Still, she put out a lot. Like a lot a lot.
But not with Emmett.
With the wisdom that comes from vast quantities of alcohol, I asked myself if they realized they'd been in love since they'd gotten hormones and body hair. I shrugged. If they couldn't see it, then they didn't deserve it. Besides, I wasn't the love guru. I barely managed to have a sex life, much less a love life. And lately, there hadn't been much of the sexing either.
Bella was on the deck. She hadn't had as much to drink as the rest of us and seemed relatively sober now. I had slowed down as the evening progressed, though I felt myself falling into that melancholic, sulking mood that came on me when I thought about my dad too much. I still missed him. It was like a phantom pain where a limb had gone missing. Missing him was just part of me.
It probably didn't help that I lived in a house surrounded by his stuff. But like my dad, music was part of me and I couldn't bear the thought his beloved instruments belonging to some stranger. When everything else in my life turned to shit, I found comfort in the feeling of drum sticks in my hands or the heavy, pulsing beat of the bass, or the lighter melodies I could coax from a piano or guitar. I'd even been known to try my hand at a fiddle. Violins were for pretty boys, down here they were fiddles, damn it. I had a natural affinity for music, and my mother still swears to this day that the first time Dad put the drum sticks in my hands, I had pounded out a recognizable beat though I wasn't even a year old yet.
My mom was full of shit sometimes. I loved her, but, come on.
I joined Bella at the railing, saw that she was sipping at a cola and listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the sad. "Thanks for having me tonight," she said quietly, without taking her eyes from the sea.
Having her. The phrase brought out all sorts of hidden longings, and my defenses were down because of the booze and the sadness the memories always left behind. She turned to look at me, and I saw something echoed in her dark eyes. The moonlight tried to hide the shadows, but I saw them.
"I'm really sorry about your fathers, all of them," she said softly and she put her hand on my arm. I didn't want to talk about my father. I didn't want to talk at all. I moved my mouth slowly to hers, ignoring the warning bells that was ringing in my head. I shouldn't be doing what I was going to do. It was beyond stupid. Beyond a bad idea.
I gave her time to move away, to tell me no, to turn her head and give me a polite little brush off. Instead, she met me halfway. And fuck me if her lips weren't even better than I had imagined. She dropped the can of soda and jumped up so that her legs were wrapped around my waist and I wished I was magic and could make our clothes disappear in an instant. I settled for rubbing my cock against her pussy, feeling the heat of her even between the layers of cloth that separated us.
Her hands slipped up beneath my shirt and she traced patterns up and down my chest, murmuring her approval as she did so. Her lips and tongue wandered over the scruff of my face, which seemed to fascinate her for some reason.
I was breathing like a fucking race horse at the end of the Kentucky Derby. My hips were rocking against her and my hands were kneading her ass. She had a stellar ass. "I wanna fuck you," I confessed in a hoarse whisper.
She groaned but she didn't sound pissed. Maybe she liked the sound of that too. We fucked with our mouths for a little while longer. What our lips and tongues were doing went way beyond kissing. Then she pulled away with another groan, one I didn't like the sound of, she slid down my body to plant her feet on the deck. "I...I can't...I'm not...I'm not ready for this."
I wiped at my face and nodded. It was really better that we'd stopped. My dick was throbbing like a toothache, but a hard on had never killed anyone. I hoped. I leaned on the deck, mostly to hide my raging erection. Yeah, I'd been rubbing it against her, but the moment had passed and now it was just fucking awkward to be sporting wood.
"Wanna take a walk on the beach?" I asked, holding out my hand and giving her a smile to let her know there were no hard feelings. Shit. Hard. Stop it.
She smiled tentatively and then put her hand in mine. "Sure," she said.
We had walked for a while, sometimes holding hands, sometimes just walking beside each other. At first, I was worried that he'd be pissed and think I was a tease. I wasn't. At least not on purpose. It was just that good sense had prevailed and I knew I had no business starting something – anything – with Edward. I was too fucked up to be anybody's someone. So we walked in a surprisingly comfortable silence.
Then we had found a flat, dry patch of sand with a great view of the moon and some dunes that blocked some of the wind behind us. Edward didn't say a word, just plopped his sexy ass down on the sand and patted the space beside him.
We sat there and looked up at the moon. The silvery light stretched down to dance along Edward's perfect face, illuminating it like a Renaissance painting of a fallen angel. The sound of the ocean roaring was incredibly soothing, much like I imagined it was for babies in the womb. I could only imagine being lulled to sleep by that sound every night. I turned on my side and looked at Edward instead. "Tell me something no one else knows about you," I said quietly.
"Only if you go first," he offered. He had turned so that we were both on our sides, staring at each other.
I pause and then smiled. "Okay." I had to think about it. What could I disclose that was not too revealing? "All right then," I finally said. "I've gone cliff diving and I liked the thrill of it."
His eyes widened for a moment. "Really?" He grinned. "I wouldn't have figured you for the type."
I shrugged. "I'm a complex and complicated woman, Mr. Cullen."
"That you are," he agreed in his smoke and silk voice.
"Your turn." I wanted to reach out and touch his face, his beautiful, sad face. But I didn't. I was going to be good. I was. I really was. I hoped.
His eyes searched mine, but I didn't know what he was looking for, or if he found it. "I'm scared of-" He stopped abruptly and shook his head. "When I die," he changed direction. "I want my ashes spread on the ocean."
I was the one searching his eyes now but what I found puzzled me. "I'll remember that," I said teasingly, hoping to lighten the atmosphere between us.
To my surprise, he simply said solemnly, "Thanks, I'd appreciate that."
Then he rolled over and stared up at the night sky. I mirrored his motion, gazing up at the stars that seemed so close. "Do you…" Edward stopped and shook his head minutely, as if telling himself to shut up.
"What?" I prompted when it became clear he was not going to continue.
He shrugged, still looking up at the sky.
I gave him a nudge. "I'm waiting, Cullen."
He sighed and his lips pressed together, then they pursed as if he was considering how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Do you believe in Heaven?" he asked.
I had to admit, I would not have guessed that was what he wanted to say in a million years. "Uh…" I was thrown. I had very specific beliefs, but I did not consider myself a religious person. I didn't go to church and I didn't label myself as anything in particular. It was a Swan trait as far as I could tell. We would have made horrible Puritans, too independent minded for blind obedience. "Yeah, I guess I do."
He turned then, leaning up on one elbow, his expression intense. "Do you really?" He seemed oddly excited by the notion.
I nodded and shrugged. "If I'm wrong, well then, it won't matter anyway, will it?"
"True…" he whispered. "And if you're right…"
"Then I get to say I told you so," I teased. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "Do you believe in Heaven?"
He frowned. "I hope there's a Heaven," he finally said. "I'm not sure if I believe there is."
"If not Heaven, then what?" I asked.
"That's it," Edward said. "If not Heaven, then...nothing?" He closed his eyes and sighed. "And which is worse, not knowing but hoping, or knowing that there's...nothing after our we blaze our way across the sky for a few, short years?"
"Maybe it's not about the length of the journey," I said. "Maybe it's about what we do along the way."
"Maybe," he said. Then he sat up and held out his hand. "Come on, let's get you back. You can crash on my bed. I'll take the couch."
He held my hand on the way back and when I left him at the door to his bedroom, I had to resist the urge to call him inside and ask him to share his bed with me.
I woke up abruptly. Obviously, during the night I had been kidnapped by terrorists and they were currently engaged in interrogating me. It was some sort of water torture, possibly involving some poisonous gas. Then I realized that the torture was only Sheba's tongue and awesomely bad doggy breath. She had gotten impatient and needed to pee and be fed, in that order.
"Sorry," I mumbled and I stumbled toward my bedroom to take care of my own bladder's needs as soon as I opened the door to let Sheba out.
I let out a sigh of relief as I emptied my bladder. As I walked through my bedroom I heard a little snort of sound. I turned.
Bella. On my bed.
She was wearing a tank top and a tiny pair of Gator orange underwear. That was all. Nothing else. Not even a fucking pair of socks. I wasn't sure what the socks would have done to keep my dick from saluting her, but they might have looked so ridiculous that I'd have been able to resist getting hard.
Sure. That was the ticket. Socks. Worked every time.
Bella shifted a little, her hand moving down her belly. Down. Down some more. Uh oh. Now her fingers were toying with the elastic that ran across her belly. Holy fuck. Those slender fingers dipped below the cotton that covered her...
If I hadn't been titanium already, that would have done the trick. Bella gave a little moan and her hand pretty much disappeared behind the orange cotton. Orange was suddenly my favorite fucking color in the universe.
And they were Gator colors so there was no need to feel too guilty. They'd match quite nicely with my blue shorts. In a heap. On the floor.
As I watched like the dirty pervert I had become since Bella Swan had come into my life, her fingers began moving in soft circles. I could only imagine what she was touching done there with that gentle, swirling touch. I could touch it gently too. I would. For her.
I was pretty sure that I moaned. I knew my dick gave a good jerk in my shorts.
Then her hand sped up. I wanted to grab my dick. You know, just in case she woke up and saw me leering then she wouldn't feel so awkward. Because I'd be jerking off too. That was the polite thing to do, wasn't it?
She gave a sexy, breathy little moan. I could feel my balls drawing up close. There was a spot on my shorts where the pre-cum had announced my state to the world. I was beyond fucking aroused. I was pretty feral at that point.
Bella licked her lips and then said one more word before she exploded. "Edward..."
I almost came in my pants. The fact that I didn't was one of the proudest moments of my life.
But I was no longer willing to bet that an erection had never killed a man.