Ahhhh, the tale of Bella and Edward. 'Twas fun, wasn't it?
Hey… starting Friday, we're participating in an auction for charity. If yer the winner…. The great jandco and the wtvoc will write you a one-shot.
Anything you want.
You and Rob? Done and done. (especially if you ARE Rob, in which case writing Rob-on-Rob action…. Well, shit. We might just do that for funsies) Scotch outtake? Done. Whatever you want. The winner gets to say what's what. It just has to be somehow Twilight-y, yo. Chiggity check out the link on our profiles…
Now- on with the end.
At flipping last.
Edward cocked his head and pulled again at the knot in his tie. I watched him unbutton his cuffs and his smile turned devious and fierce.
I took a barefooted step back and he rolled up his cuffs- first the right, then the left- keeping his eyes on me.
"Bella," he said, a note of warning in his voice—but fuck it, I was happy, he wasn't going anywhere—I wanted to play.
We hadn't gotten a chance to just…play.
And while he might not have wanted to right then, I did.
Therefore we would.
"Edward. You know, I'm really tired," I grinned and mocked a yawn.
"Bella, I'm really tired too. Of not having sex," he said, taking a step closer and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.
I shrugged and walked around to the opposite side of the bed and turned the covers down.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" I teased, brushing the dress strap off of my left shoulder.
"Yeah, well. I lost a bet," he shrugged.
My mouth fell open, feigning shock and hurt, but I couldn't help the smile- I was too happy to keep anything at bay for too long.
He curled one finger at me, gesturing me to come to him.
I hopped up on the bed and crawled on all fours to the foot where he was standing.
He was staring down the front of my dress and I watched his dick grow under his dark pants.
I put my fingertips in the waist of his pants and pulled myself up so my lips were practically touching his, and quickly his tongue flicked out and tasted my lip.
"Edward," I whispered, pulling his hips to mine.
"I really want you…" I whispered before I kissed his lips softly. "But first…you'll have to catch me."
I leapt off the bed, planning to sprint to the bathroom, but his arm snapped back and he grabbed me by the back of the vintage dress.
There was that awful ripping noise that you hear right before some asshole turns red because his ass is now exposed.
"Alice is going to kill you," I said smugly, looking at him over my bare shoulder.
Edward turned and took me by the hips, spinning me toward him.
"Oh? Since when did you join the Forks Elite and adopt their code of clothes ethics?"
"Since Jasper taught me the importance of decent vintage," I said, raising an eyebrow, annoying him into distraction so I could keep making him work for it.
I laughed and went to turn but he pulled me back with a sharp jerk of silk.
"Well," he said, slightly bending and grabbing a fistful of dress near my ankle, "if I want to rip a vintage Galliano—"
Rrrrip up to my knee.
"Or a Valentino…"
Rrrrip to my now bare hip.
I looked down at him, trying not to look as amused as I was by raising one eyebrow.
"Or God forbid, a Von Furstenberg wrap dress…"
And then my right tit was hanging out.
"I will," he said, then with two hands he lifted the remaining strap delicately from my shoulder and promptly destroyed it.
The silk fell in a fluid billow to the floor and I stood there completely naked with now two raised eyebrows.
"Because I'm not Jasper and I don't give a fuck about that dress or how rare it is or how much it cost—the only thing I care about is what's in it. Or what was in it," he said, looking down at the sad heap of a dress and nudging it with his toe.
"Why the hell aren't you wearing undergarments? We were around people for crying out loud," he said, now suddenly concerned with clothing after all.
"Undergarments? What are you, Gramma Swan?"
"We'll go to La Perla before we go back to Forks," Edward said decisively.
I rolled my eyes.
Some things are never meant to be changed.
And I love him anyway.
Suddenly, he was staring down at me, all naked and cold.
"What?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He rolled his eyes and pulled on my arms.
"I want to see you. I don't get to see you naked enough."
"I guess not," I said, slowly letting my arms fall to my side, because I was his.
I wanted him to see.
He bowed his head and slowly reached out his hand. One of his fingers brushed just below my belly button and I looked down, so we both stared at his touch on my skin.
I took a shaky breath and his eyebrows furrowed in a kind of feeling concentration and he sucked in his bottom lip, catching it with his teeth.
Slowly his finger drew a soft line up, straight over my stomach…
We watched it travel between my breasts and then I felt him sweep over my throat until his finger was under my chin.
He tipped my face up and a slow, lazy but happy smile unfurled on his face.
And then he did the very thing I wanted him to, but the last thing I expected.
He put my arms around his neck and I felt his strong hands on my back and he hugged me.
Tight and close and safe and warm and loved—he held on tight, as tight as I was holding him to me.
I pressed my forehead into the top of his shoulder and felt his chin on the side of my naked neck and we held on, listening to everything we didn't say yet, but someday would.
There was no swaying, no humming, no gratuitous touches or grabs…just hugging—just relieved and elated to finally, finally be here with no obstacle or lie or bet between us.
Sometime later, I caved before him when I started to kiss his neck, then made my way to his jaw, his ear until he turned his face and met my lips.
We fell onto the bed, in a big tangle of limbs and hair and us.
A tie flew over my head, a shirt landed near my arm, pants shuffled off to the carpet and I heard the short rip of a condom wrapper.
My stomach swirled with anticipation and ready while my legs shifted and my feet dug into the covers.
I lay with my arms above my head, my hair a spread-out mess around me while he slowly lowered himself, smiling so faintly I could barely be sure he was there at all.
He kissed my lips and rocked back and forth slowly while I rubbed his sides with my thighs.
I brushed the hair from his eyes and let my hands wander to the back of his neck, while he worked in slowly.
I blindly traced the muscles I could reach in his back while his lips pressed into the center of my chest, and then we were completely connected in every sense we could be.
There was licking and sucking and pulling and giggling—the entire gamut.
And when I came, hard and shivering and smiling-- he came at the same time, once again proving that when we were stripped down and just being Edward and Bella, when it was just the fundamentals of us—we were perfect together.
"I can't—you have to bend them more."
"We're signing you up for yoga."
"I've never done this."
"I do—what are you doing?"
"I wanna see."
"Oh…ah oh. Oh! Keep going…"
"I…my elbows are gonna give…"
"No. Hell. No."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
I hurt. Not from the love or bet or whatever; from the lovin'. And I was fucking tired.
So when I was awakened somewhere around 6:47 in the a.m. by a sharp elbow to my shoulder blade, my first instinct was to attack; but then somehow, through the sex-addled, semi-conscious post-fuck state, I managed to realize that it was most likely Bella. Slowly, I opened the one eye that wasn't stuffed into a pillow and there she was, hair looking like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket, somewhere lost inside my tux shirt that was buttoned in two places. She had black makeup smooshed under her eyes and somehow in the sort of suffused light coming from the crack in the curtains, I could see the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. Or maybe I was just dreaming, but whatever. She was there, and she looked good.
I flipped over and got a shiver because I was still naked, so I reached out and pulled her over me like a blanket. Her bird's nest hair covered my face and I inhaled deeply; sweat and sex and Dove. I pulled it into a sloppy ponytail and lifted the hair up, kissing her neck.
"Mornin'," she mumbled into my chest. The tickle of her breath made me warm and I hugged her closer to me.
"You smell like you were fucked good and proper," I rasped into her hair. She squirmed on top of me and I saw that somehow in the mangle of limbs and love and sex and straight-up fucking that she had managed to put some underwear on. So I ran my hands down the rumpled white shirt and cupped her curvy ass, hooking my thumbs under the hem and snapping the fabric up.
"Oof, Cullen. Not the best way into my pants, you know." She scrambled up so that our faces were level, and in the light of the curtain-sliver filtering around us, I could see dust particles floating around her mess of hair and lighting on her nose as she pressed a kiss onto my forehead… and then my right temple… the left. She tilted my head to the right and kissed right next to my ear, then tilted to the left and repeated. Little cute, sweet kisses.
"Who says I want in your pants again, woman? You tire a man out." That made her stop abruptly. She clasped my head in her hands and searched my face, her eyes suddenly fire and suspicion and ire.
But that was all for half a second; her entire face relaxed and her hands unclasped and turned into wispy fingertips tugging at my overgrown sideburns. She wiggled and squirmed and like that, I was standing at attention. Yet again.
"Your massive erection says otherwise," she grinned into my mouth, and despite the slight ache in my back like I had been lifting (okay, I had) and the insane fiery burn in my thigh muscles like when we had that all-day scrimmage to prep for the game against the fucking Jefferson Democrats- I woke up, instantly.
"Hmm. Massive. Flattery gets you everywhere," I whispered into her neck. Her arms snaked up my sides and across my shoulders until she was pinning me, nipping and biting at my mouth but never actually kissing.
"Come on. Quit teasing. I wanna make out." I pulled her head down and kissed her square and firm on the mouth twice. She smiled and finally kissed me back.
"Kay." I rolled us over, waiting to see what tempo she'd set for this session. So far, all night had been about testing- do this, taste that, touch there, tug here, fingertip there, slower harder pulse and push. Trying to find a stride, a rhythm. I was up for testing all night, but as I settled over her and smoothed her bangs away, we locked and looked and then it was just fucking there.
"Edward," she said, her lips not moving, my name coming out with her exhale. And that's all it took, really. I'd end this night with love. Ridiculous, really. Ridiculously wonderful that I only needed this, this Her. This here and this now.
My hands roamed. Hair and mouth, a brief brush of her breath on my skin. She pursed lips and kissed my roughened fingertips, pressing her face into my palm as the other hand cupped her neck. Shivering and eye closed, she looked spent and warm and ready for more. Leaning to kiss above the V of the buttoned shirt, I nudged the fabric aside, nipping at her tit, the other side, soft and sweet and slight. Sweet pink flesh, flushed under my tongue, teasing to hard as I grew hard and it got harder to not just take and fuck and take and take. No, no. Time to give. She had given so much, so much. It would never be equal; we would never be equal, and it didn't even matter.
I gasped in a breath, trying to maintain calm. Setting aside the absolute wonder that I was still sporting wood after a marathon night, in-my-prime male be damned, I got up on my elbows and gazed at her, resting my chin on her sternum.
"See something you like?" She looked indulgent and worn the hell out. Never sexier. Something about this Bella- this satiated Bella who still looked like she had room for more- made me grin.
"What?" she laughed, crooking her fingers and grabbing at my hair, pushing my head down so that I was scratching her belly with my stubble. She hissed at the prickly pain, a smirky grin hitting her face at the perfect angle and I turned so that my entire cheek was rubbing down down down. When I got to the hem of her Hanes, I snaked out my tongue and hooked it under the hem, grabbing with my teeth and pulling down. I felt the spasms of her non-existent abs as she held in laughter, my nose tickling and brushing against her hip as I pulled down, going down and anticipating going down and I kept going, her legs spreading slightly wider as my chin scruffed a path down her soft thighs. It pretty much took all of my powers of concentration to not unclench my teeth when I passed over her aroused pussy (need new term, it just seems dirty) because the smell just engulfed my face, making my eyes lose focus and I clenched my teeth and every muscle in my body pretty damned hard until I had the sensible underwear off and tossed somewhere behind me. I looked down, rubbing my neck in anticipation because she was giving me that indulgent look again, like she was going to do what I wanted because she was allowing it.
"Nothing. You just look like you're dying for it," I said, matter-of-fact and cocky because well, I was cocky about this. It was weird, being this certain about anything, especially when it was a girl. But hey- everyone's gotta grow up sometime, and while I didn't plan on doing any of that anytime soon, I knew that I had at least done a little maturing about women and shit. Or, more accurately, woman.
She rolled her eyes and shifted her legs. "You're such an ar-" I shut her up by softly, slowly kissing the top of her thigh, and I resisted the urge to look at her as I scratched the hell out of her leg with my face, moving up and hearing the hiss as she breathed in, sharp and quick.
She really must have been dying for it, because her hands were scratching at my scalp before I even got to the motherland, the muscles in her thighs straining under my cheek and chin as I hovered over her, savoring and buzzing in the seconds before I would grab and lick and kiss and love.
"Bella," I breathed into her skin and her writhing legs. "Hold still so that I can love you good and proper."
She laughed and pulled at my hair, bringing me up until my lips were just above her. I wet my bottom lip with my tongue, this time looking up at her briefly before tasting her pussy, fast and quick. She jerked up, trying to catch my tongue again before I drew it away; her legs opened more, her knees shooting up and toes pinching my skin as she tried to brace herself against me, against the bed, against what she knew was coming.
I got up on my elbows and suddenly I was the one who needed bracing because she was lifting herself up, right into my face and that thing, that Bella thing she does where she makes this bit of a breathy squeaking noise just really got to me and before I realized it, I was there, tasting and breathing her in and she was breathing faster and moving and I had to hold on to her so she wouldn't fall and I wouldn't slip but I knew I would never let go until she was done.
"Edward, please," she insisted, not quite sobbing and not really begging, but asking and insisting and how could I say no? I wanted her to come and I wanted to come so I scrambled up kissed her stomach and nipped at a nipple and buried my face in her neck, taking in the warm smell of her neck and hair and love and then she was grabbing my hip and reaching down between us-
-and I almost fucking lost it when her palm brushed up against my dick, so I clenched my jaw and sucked a breath in through my nose, forcing some calm until the deep buzz abated somewhat, but she knew what she had inadvertently done because she always fucking did that, so she moved her grasp down more , the flesh in her hand growing harder with each inch she clasped until I moved my hips down an inch or two and then it was her turn for jaw clenching as I got my dick wet, sliding down and teasing, killing both of us with the tension. Sure, I liked to just thrust in and fuck as much as the next guy, but I'll be damned if this love-infused foreplay shit wasn't even better than that.
And it always would be. With her.
"Edward," she tried again, her voice the tightly-controlled whisper of a scream, "I love it when you do that. But so help me, if you don't-"
I plunged in.
And God help me, but it was just the fucking best thing that words can't… they just can't.
I'm not even going to fucking describe it. The hot and the enveloping encompassing. Her soft sighs and hot little breath darting in my ear and my mouth as I tried- tried to control, tried to not just take her and fuck because she was more than that, she always would be. I could be a dick and deny but I won't because her heart and legs opened up and I didn't want to take advantage so I let her do the taking and she pushed up, pushed off and pushed forth onto me, mashing and connecting. My own slightly controlled pacing of hips and balance went off-kilter with her frantic gasps and fierce little beating heart and I just gave in and gave gave gave. Continued to give until she got hers good.
"Never going to be better," she said weakly, hooking her heels around my calves and thrusting up a bit, tickling the fuck out of my numbed and pulsing body, feeling wonderful and seriously uncomfortable because I just didn't think I could do it anymore.
"No," I agreed, trying desperately not to crush her underneath me. I knew she didn't mind; in fact, I think that she loved my weight covering her after we fucked because she always sighed when I rolled right off her, but who knows? All I knew is that I would figure her out one day.
"I love this," she whispered into my chest, her nose warmer than my skin. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
"Of course. I'm really good," I said, smiling as she half-heartedly punched my shoulder. I finally pulled out and rolled over and there it was, there it fucking was- that adorable and frustrating sigh that eventually I would get down to the bottom of.
"You're not terrible," she said, moving slightly to kiss my shoulder. I stuck my arm under her neck and we lay there, side by side, breathing and staring at nothing and just being.
"Yes I am. But not with you."
"Shut up. You're better than you think you are."
"Don't tell anyone."
"Fuck anyone. I'm here for you."
"And with me."
I sighed. "Poor little rich boy."
We've made it.
We graduated three days ago and Edward and I are still…more than strong.
I smil to myself as I pour a shot of whiskey at Emmett's wet bar and listen to the Forks Elite banter at the green felt poker table.
I look over, and there he is, my baby, leaning back sloppily in his chair, one arm draped on the back of my empty seat.
He smacks Emmett's hand away when he tries to peek at my abandoned, overturned cards and when he turns to see what's taking me so long I give him a loud air kiss, then he rolls his eyes and tells me to move my ass.
So, I do.
I come back with my drink in hand and take my rightful seat sandwiched between Edward and the confusing combination of Alice on top of Jasper.
I plunk my drink on the table and slap at Edward's hand when he reaches for it.
"There are no partners at the poker table, bitch," I smirk.
"You're betting with my money. That has to be some kind of partnership."
"No," I say, sliding my drink directly in front of me.
"Hey, Stanley, how 'bout a Scotch—"
"Get your own damn drink, Edward," I sigh, like he knows I will.
"Let's do this," Alice says, bouncing on Jasper's knee.
He looks like he's about to die—but happily. He puts an arm around her waist to keep her still and she leans back and holds their shared hand of cards up—he whispers something in her ear and she stays expressionless while he reaches behind his ear for a rolled cigarette and winks at me.
I smile back and lean over to yank lightly on his wallet chain—because me and Jasper will always have our days of La Bella and gin.
"Let's make money the fly way," Emmett says, his eyes mischievous and beside him, sour-faced Rosalie rolls her own eyes and quickly brushes at the very faint scar on her face.
It's a new nervous habit.
"No stripping. I don't wanna see your shriveled sac," Edward said, his hand drumming lightly on the inside of my thigh in time to Dre.
"Please, Dogg. I'd keep my shit on. I'm just tryin' to see some Forks titties before I'm outta here."
"Nah," Edward cut in. "Let's play this last round with class."
"Last round," Alice said under her breath.
"Let's go out like gentlemen," Jasper agreed.
And for who knew how long, this would be the last round…
Jasper had plans to…go be Jasper around the world.
Alice would be off to Italy to see her mother, then on to UCLA.
Rosalie was set for Stanford, but first she was going to vacation in Turkey, to, she claimed, "relieve the stress of the year".
Emmett was going to tour Compton before "buying A's at Princeton, yo."
Edward and I would stay in Forks, then move on together; me to Berkeley, Edward to Stanford.
A half hour into the game I'm bored and doubled Edwards money already, so I get up to wander one last time around Emmett's house. I pass the "recreation room" and half-cringe, half-smile when I remember the first time I was in there, wrapped around Emmett and trying to escape Mike Newton.
I run my hand along the smooth wood of the banister along the stairs and I remember the night of my birthday party, the night Edward almost broke my heart.
I remember La Bella and slurpees and cafeteria grand gestures—and I remember the bet.
I shudder when I think of trying to have to stay away from Edward—because… he's Edward. He's mine and I'm his and looking back now…it's almost funny that we ever tried to deny that.
And then I'm in the middle of a dim hallway with a Blaine-purchased counterfeit Monet on my left and Rosalie Hale standing in front of me.
"Move, or I'll push ya down the steps," I say, and a part of me thinks I might actually do it.
"Tsk. Isabella. You haven't even said thank you yet."
"I believe I did. You still have the scar," I say and point my finger an inch from her face.
She flinched back and rolled her eyes.
"You know, Isabella, I may have had the cruelest of intentions, but you got the best possible outcome. The two of you make me want to vomit. At any rate, if it weren't for me, who knows?"
I give an exasperated laugh in her face and brush past her, leaving her alone in the dim hallway.
She'd never get it—Rosalie would always be Rosalie.
When I get back downstairs, Emmett is threatening to upturn the table, Jasper is blowing lazy smoke rings to the ceiling and Edward is smiling up at me while collecting money from around the table.
I glance at Jasper, my best friend and my confidante and my could-have-been/almost-was…but I can't feel any regret about that, and I know he can't either. Jasper would have his own story of boredom and bets and love to tell someday, and though I know I'll always be a part of it, I won't be the happily ever after—but he'll get his.
He'll make damn sure of that.
I walk back to them and my gaze shifts back to Edward, like it always will, and I smile back at him, sincere and perfectly at peace and happy with my now and my future because despite Rosalies and Jaspers and scotch and Mommies and silicone and gin and money—and maybe with help along the way from Waits and Jaspers and gin and Amelias and Miss Mimis and scotch and Target, we would always just…be.
To hell with the rest.
a few months later
"Jasper," I said, palming my phone and flipping it to speaker. I set it down on my vanity and leaned in, grinning to inspect my teeth.
"Hiya, doll," he said, his voice breathy and sleepy and just so cute. Oh, Jasper. I will miss you so.
"So I'm leaving tomorrow." He knew that. I felt like I was stalling. Why did this make me so nervous?
"Yes," he drawled, his tongue drawing out the ess. I could hear rustling; he was probably still freaking in bed.
"Jasper, it's like ten a.m. Get up! It's a wonderful day! Fall is approaching! You know what that means," I said, stretching up on the balls of my feet and grabbing for whatever lip gloss was there. They all coordinated well with my complexion. I'd be fine. MAC Hello Kitty Dazzleglass. Old, but it'd do. I O'ed my mouth and started applying.
"Newly sharpened pencils," he said, and I could hear a stretch in his voice. I pursed my lips and felt satisfied by the effect. Good thing I got sleep; tonight was going to be loooooong.
"So the reason I'm calling is because I need your help."
"You always need my help, little girl," he said, sounding all "I'm Jasper, watch me be amused by Alice's silly antics yet again". I pretended to harrumph, but it was pretty tough to stay mad at the boy. He was just so relaxed and tall and well- all summer long, he'd been a lot of fun to hang out with.
And he'd really, seriously, for freaking reals helped me figure out who I was. I mean, for the most part.
"Jasper, I'm just going to ask because I'm not in the mood for your odd insults right now. Just… I need help moving my stuff to LA."
There was a pause and I had to go, "Jasper?" before he responded.
"Sure, peach. I can do that for ya."
"Don't call me peach. I'm not Bella."
"Sure, Petite." Okay, I had to laugh at that one. Mostly because he did an uncanny Taylor Kitsch as Gambit imitation, and that is always hot.
"Wait, really? 'Cuz like, I have my car and my furniture and Uncle Blaine says I can't possibly go to LA without all of my bathing suits and since Rosalie and I went to Cancun for spring break well, that's just a lot of swimwear and he may have been kidding anyway because I'm pretty sure-"
"Petite, you're rambling. I'll move you down to LA. Relax."
"I'm going to miss you, you know. Are you sure you won't reconsider-"
"Nope. Thanks, though." Stubborn as always.
"Fine. Will I see you tonight?"
"You bet your pilates-toned ass, Alice. Like I'd miss the great Forks College-Bound Good Bye Bash of 2009."
"Okay, and about-"
"Have no fear, Alice," he said, and it sounded like he was finally getting his ass out of bed. Ugh. There was a spot of mascara in the corner of my eye; I leaned in to remove it, and he finished with, "I will take care of everything. Bright and early tomorrow. Expect some juniors on your doorstep."
"Bright and early? But the party tonight-"
"Bright and early. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. Jasper's gonna take care of you."
"Well…send your laundry home."
"Ma…I've been doing my own laundry since I was twelve when you taught me how."
"Well. Okay, Jasper. Look, I know I raised an independent, well-rounded young man but…I'll miss you, and I'll be worried."
"I'll miss you, too. But mom, I got this," I grinned and shrugged.
"I know," she sighed and walked out of my room, still wringing her damn hands like she had been since I graduated.
Colleen wants me to go to college. Unfortunately for Colleen, she'd raised an independent, free-thinker.
Hell, I'd go the college route some day, probably, but not now—not when I'm eighteen and half green and ready to bust the hell out of here to see the rest.
I'm going to New Orleans to feel jazz—not just study about it.
I'm going to New York so I can walk with a rich man on my left side and a poor man on my right.
I'm going to fucking Wisconsin so I can learn how to make cheese.
I'm going to Idaho to see about some potatoes.
I'm going to Tennessee so I can send some authentic Gentlemen's Jack back to Edward and Emmett, but mostly I'm going for Graceland.
I'm going everywhere—I'm going to feel it all, so I can live the shit out of my youth until I'm a tired old man who can whittle wood or some shit on a bench—and maybe entertain the idea of going to college.
But first…first I have to get Alice to L.A.—because someday, when I'm whittling my wood or whatnot, I plan to have Alice annoying the hell out of me on that bench.
But she's got a lot of discovering to do, too.
La Bella, my platonic lady, is happy, and my best boy Edward is seeing to it that she always will be…I got no business left here in Forks.
I took a look around my teenage boy's room and patted the torn up, folded map and tucked it in my back pocket, though I doubted I'd ever look at it.
Me and the GTO would go wherever the life is.
You guys didn't really think we'd leave without telling you about Jasper and Alice, didja?
for those of you who don't do well with reading between the lines.... brace yerselves for more.