Disclaimer: Stephenie owns them. I'm just making them misbehave…
I took a deep breath as I pushed open the door to the bar and stepped through. I came to a halt just inside the doorway, my trembling legs struggling to hold my body upright. My heart was pounding wildly and my breaths came in short gasps. I was really fucking nervous—I had never done anything like this before.
It took every last ounce of courage to not bolt back to the safety of my hotel room across the street. But I had promised myself that I would at least try… so, I took a fortifying breath and brushed my hands over my trench coat, smoothing the loose-fitting, silky fabric against my hips and thighs. Just for good measure, I tightened the belt. Again. I perused the interior of the dark room, cataloging every detail in an attempt to quell my nerves and forget why I was really here. Oh hell… let's be honest. I was fucking stalling. I still wasn't sure if I could do… this… so I occupied my brain with mundane details rather than the decisions I was here to make.
The main bar was directly in front of me. It was large, taking up the entire back wall. A mirror ran the full length of the counter and reflected what little light there was to be found in the place. There was a small seating area to my left with four tall bistro tables. All were occupied. To the right was a pool table where two men were playing. I heard the repetitive clack of the balls as the cue was struck and, in turn, collided with its target.
I finally forced my feet to move and tried my best to look confident and self-assured as I sauntered across the room to the bar, but my legs were shaking so fucking badly that I'm not sure I really pulled it off. It was relatively early and none of the seats at the counter were taken. I claimed the third stool from the end on the left and sat down, my back ram-rod straight and my legs crossed primly beneath me. I ordered a Jack and Coke, and I probably knocked it back a bit too quickly when the bartender placed it in front of me a few minutes later. I signaled for a second.
I was in desperate fucking need of liquid courage tonight.
I took my time with the second drink. One of my fingers caressed the glass, drawing abstract designs in the drops of condensation that had gathered on the outside. I dipped into the dark liquid, swirling. I raised my hand to my mouth, and as I sucked the sweet and sticky fluid from my finger, a strange tingling sensation urged me to look up. Raising my eyes to the reflective surface behind the bar, I studied the room behind me. I was diligently licking my finger clean when my eyes collided with the gaze that had sent the silent message. Those eyes looked me over with a scorching intensity that made me feel stark-fucking-naked in spite of the fact that I was still wearing my coat. I continued to work my finger with my tongue, in imitation of a far more intimate act, and watched as awareness flared in his gaze.
He was sitting at one of the bistro tables directly behind me, talking to a gorgeous blonde with large, and obviously fake, tits. I stared at her hard round globes, which were prominently displayed in a tight-fitting top with a plunging neckline, and snorted. Even though they were relatively small by comparison, I'd take my all-natural size B's any day over that plastic shit. I loved the tear-drop shape of my breasts, the way the nipples formed a perfect point at the apex of the curve. I fought the urge to drop my hand and fondle myself; I fucking loved playing with my tits. Even though I did not give in to my desire, my nipples responded to my thoughts and puckered beneath my clothing anyway. A quick glance at my reflection revealed that they were quite visible behind the fabric of my coat. I smiled wickedly.
I slid my eyes back to the man reflected in the mirror and licked my lips in longing. He was unbelievably sexy. Handsome features, a messy mop of sexily-mussed hair, tailored clothing that hugged his lean body like a second skin. The shirt caressed his broad shoulders and emphasized his lean waist, and the soft, worn denim of his faded jeans left nothing to the imagination. My insecurity instantly turned to arousal, and my smile faded as I sucked at my lower lip in expectant anticipation.
I recognized the exact moment that he became aware of what my eyes were silently offering. He made some excuse to the plastic blonde and stood. Her face fell when he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and threw a bill to the table before turning away from her. The disappointment on her face turned to disbelief when she registered that he was walking towards me. He walked so closely behind me that I swear I felt something—his hand maybe—brush lightly across my ass. I shivered slightly in response, but otherwise ignored him and made no other indication that any sort of interaction had occurred. The relief on the blonde's face was palpable when he passed me by. I smiled wickedly again.
Skanky bitch. What the fuck did she know?
He took the stool two seats down from me, at the end of the bar. When the bartender ambled over to take his order, I saw him glance briefly at the glass that was sitting on the counter in front of me.
"Jack and Coke," he requested.
His voice was melodic and velvety smooth. It washed over me like warm, summer rain, raising goose bumps on my skin and causing my nipples to tighten even further. I fidgeted in my seat. Anticipation was sweet torture.
When his drink arrived, his actions mimicked my earlier ones. He downed the beverage in one long draught and immediately signaled for another.
I shifted, angling my body towards him. The tilt of my shoulder caused my coat to open just a bit, and I felt my aching nipple graze the lightly textured inner surface of the fabric. With another slight dip of my shoulder, the coat gaped a little more. I smiled and raised my drink to my mouth; the action exposed my naked right breast to him. I was studying him intently in the mirror, so I both saw and heard the sharp intake of his breath. His hand fisted tightly on the bar. My smile deepened. As I lowered my glass back to the counter, I sat up straighter. The action pulled the fabric of the coat back tightly against my skin, concealing what I had just revealed to him.
I signaled to the bartender, who quickly replaced my now-empty glass with a full one. As I downed half the glass in a single gulp, my nervousness began to fade. The adrenaline rush from the little stunt I had just successfully executed was pumping through my veins, providing much-needed confidence. I turned to look at the man sitting to my left and raised my glass to him. He nodded stiffly in return and we both downed the remainder of our drinks. Our gazes remained locked.
Another drink appeared in front of me without my requesting it. I reluctantly shifted my eyes to the bartender with a questioning quirk of my eyebrows. He smiled and jerked his head towards the man to my left. I turned back with a smile and found him staring intently at me; his face was serious, his eyes burning. Feeling brave, I shrugged my shoulders forward, once again causing the lapels of my coat to part. I stared intently at him as I wiggled my shoulders, which caused my breasts to sway inside the loose top. My breath escaped in a hiss as my incredibly hard, aching nipples again grazed the inside of my coat. I watched as his eyes followed the motions of my unfettered breasts and was rewarded when he sucked his lower lip into his mouth in an involuntary sign of arousal.
This was easier than I had anticipated. And fuck me if it wasn't really fucking fun. My inhibitions forgotten, I decided to press my luck. I was horny as hell now and needed to get fucking laid tonight. My next move should do the trick.
Now that I had his attention, I turned my body to face him straight on. While staring into his eyes, I uncrossed my legs and moved my feet to the lowest rung of the adjoining bar stool. I dropped my hands to my lap. His eyes followed. With slow, subtle movements, my fingers gripped the edges of the coat, spreading the fabric open over my thighs. As my coat parted, I allowed my legs to fall apart as well, exposing my femininity to him; I wore nothing beneath the coat. His eyes dilated in response, and they slowly darkened until the irises were almost the same shade as the obsidian pupils. His breathing halted when my fingers reached down to slowly stroke the exposed skin of my inner thigh. He resumed breathing—his breaths coming in shallow gasps—when my thumbs slowly trailed upwards to brush against my smooth-shaven and exceptionally wet lips. I gasped with him.
Holy Fuck! A small moan escaped my mouth. I felt absolutely decadent sitting in this public place, touching myself. In front of him. Hell, in front of the whole fucking bar. Not that anyone else was privy to what I was doing; my naughty hands were hidden from the bartender by the high counter, and the direction I was facing prevented the people sitting at the tables behind me from being aware of the havoc that my fingers were causing.
It was liberating, acting this out of character. I felt fucking alive, and the electric currents of awareness that flowed through my body jolted me into a hyper-aroused state. His eyes were trained on my hands as my thumbs slowly stroked my heated flesh. I watched his throat work as he struggled to swallow. I moaned softly when his hands came to rest on his own lap and pressed against the noticeable bulge behind the zipper of his tight-fitting jeans. I moaned again when he began rhythmically pushing the heel of his hand into his groin. My thumbs moved faster in response, spreading my slick wetness around, then reached upwards to flick my throbbing clit. I jumped at the contact.
His accompanying groan sent me over the edge. With no further prelude, and while still rubbing my clit with my thumb, I plunged two fingers inside. I bit my lip to hold back the scream of pleasure that I desperately wanted to emit; all that emerged was a strangled grunt. His hands stopped their motions and his fingers curled in a death-grip upon his upper thighs. His eyes glazed over as he stared at my fingers, which were furiously pumping into my soaking-wet pussy, and my thumb, which was madly working my throbbing clit. My breaths started coming in short, panting gasps, and when I whimpered, signifying my impending release, he finally looked up to meet my eyes. The raw desire radiating from the depths of his eyes demanded my release. My internal walls clenched down on my fingers, and I felt a pulse of wetness seep into my palm. His eyes blazed ferociously when he realized that I had just climaxed.
After a moment, my breathing regulated and my heart slowed. I sighed languidly and slipped my hand from beneath my coat. I raised my hand to my mouth and continued to stare into his eyes as I slowly licked every single fucking drop of moisture from my fingers.
He stood up with a jerky motion, gasping lightly. His nose was flaring—it was quite possible that he could smell my arousal—and his eyes were wild with lust. He tossed several bills on the counter before he shoved his stool aside and took the three steps that were necessary to bring him to my side. He roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me from my stool. As I stood, my coat fell closed and covered my naked body.
With a firm grip on my arm, he steered me towards the door. I had to practically run to keep up with his long strides. But instead of leading me outside, he shoved me roughly into the hallway that led to the restrooms. He pushed me up against the wall, trapping me with his body as he shoved one muscular thigh between my own, spreading my legs. Without preamble, he pushed his hand between the edges of my coat and stroked my still-heated flesh. He groaned as his fingers slid easily through the slickness that they encountered, and I whimpered when his thumb reached up to flick against my overly-sensitized clit. I gripped my coat tightly in both of my fists. He pressed his thumb firmly against my hard nub, rubbing in small circles, and I moaned as I felt pressure begin to build in my abdomen. I tilted my hips towards him in silent invitation and gasped when he shoved two fingers inside of me. My eyelids fluttered shut and my head fell back against the wall with a thud. I moaned as his fingers worked me, curling in to tease the sensitive spot on the inner front wall.
Within seconds, I was grinding mindlessly against his hand, grunting in time with his thrusts, and groaning in desperate search of my next orgasm. He chuckled softly, and my eyes opened. His eyes were flashing wickedly with humor and desire. He raised his free hand to his mouth and placed his index finger against his lips in the universal sign to be quiet. I felt my cheeks flame as I realized that I had likely been making quite a bit of noise; I had a tendency to be quite vocal during sex. I also realized I had been caught up in the intensity of the sensations that his hand was invoking to the exclusion of everything else. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that while no one was looking at us, a few people in the bar were still in my line of sight. That fact only served to heighten my arousal.
While I had been a willing recipient of the pleasure he was providing, it was not in my nature to sit back and not participate. I looked down to where his hand was buried at the apex of my thighs and again noticed the very visible bulge behind the zipper of his jeans. I raised my hands to the waistband of his pants. My fingers happened to brush across that ridge on their way to the button, and he exhaled in a huff as my fingers trailed up the hard length of his erection. His fingers paused in their wicked ministrations at my teasing touch, and I grunted in impatience at the halt of those stimulating motions. He chuckled again and resumed stroking at the same time as my questing fingers somehow managed to pop the button and slowly lower the tab.
I moaned when my hands snaked behind his boxer shorts and found his cock. It was long and thick, rock hard and velvet-smooth. Not to mention flaming hot. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and began to stroke firmly in time to the rhythm that he was using to pleasure me. His eyes closed, and the guttural groan that rumbled through his chest had to be the sexiest sound that I had ever fucking heard. It was pleasure and pain, expectation and desperation, a prayer and a curse, all mixed up into one. I groaned in response. I felt moisture in my palm where it was dripping from the tip of his glorious cock. I pulled my hand back to swirl my fingers in the pearly drops, then trailed those fingers down to tease the sensitive underside of his head. Another groan ripped through his chest as he bucked his hips.
My teasing fingers were drawing the most interesting symphony of sounds from his mouth and chest. He purred. He moaned. He grunted. He growled. Each sound was raw and real, and the desire expressed behind each of those noises drove me fucking wild. My hands danced and dallied, teased and twisted, stroked and soothed, all in an attempt to draw even more primitive sounds from him. After a few moments, I chuckled. When he opened his eyes to look at me, I had to give him the signal to be quiet. His eyes flashed wildly, and I realized that he was about at his breaking point. My eyes flared in response.
We stared at each other, silently battling with our eyes and hands, trying to see who could make the other break first. I was on fire, but I refused to relinquish my control, and I fervently denied my body the release that it so desperately desired. He recognized that I was fighting myself, and his eyes flashed wickedly right before he brought his free hand up to grab my ass roughly. I sucked in a ragged breath as his fingers curled into my soft flesh and yanked my lower body into closer contact with his. The rough movement caused me to lose my balance, and as I lurched forward, I released my hands to brace myself against his chest. His hand slipped from my wet well, and when he gripped my hips tightly in an attempt to hold me steady, his slippery fingers slid against my skin. His erection bumped against my stomach. My breath caught.
We were still staring intently into one another's eyes, silently sizing up the opposition. Without warning, his hand slid down and around to the back of my right leg. He roughly pulled it up, hitching it at his waist. The motion tilted my hips up, and I felt the head of his cock bump against my throbbing clit. He bucked his hips forward, causing his shaft to slide into my slick folds. At the feel of his hot, hard length teasing my lips, I moaned, and let my head fall back to rest against the wall again. He thrust slightly, sliding underneath me and coating himself with my wetness.
He tugged my leg again, pulling it higher and wrapping it around his waist, which tilted my hips even further forward. He took a step closer, which forced my back up against the wall and our nether-regions into even closer contact. His body stilled in its restless motions, and I opened my eyes to find him looking at me expectantly. I nodded in acquiescence. He pulled his hips back, aligned himself against my opening, and thrust forward in a strong, smooth motion. I gasped, and then groaned, as his hard cock filled me completely. I stared into his eyes as he pumped into me over and over and over again. The flush of arousal that appeared on his neck matched my own; I could feel the heat rising on my chest, neck, and cheeks.
The sounds of our mutual grunts and groans, as well as slapping skin, filled the small hallway. I felt the familiar tingles that signified my impending release building in my stomach, and I strained against his body in order to obtain the necessary friction. I was whimpering in frustrated arousal when he pushed his hand into the wetness that surrounded our joined bodies. After moistening his thumb, he moved it up to press firmly against my clit. My body exploded around him, my orgasm washing over me in wave after wave of pleasure. I closed my eyes and cried out in ecstasy; I knew it was loud, but I couldn't fucking help it. I heard him groan and felt him pulse within me. He buried his head in my neck, and I experienced a moment of pain as his teeth clamped down on the tender flesh at the juncture of my neck and collarbone in an attempt to silence his own triumphant shout.
After a few moments, I floated back down to earth. An all-encompassing satisfaction surrounded me, and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. But that smile immediately disappeared when I opened my eyes to find that the two men playing pool were now watching us intently. The flush of arousal on my cheeks and chest quickly turned to mortification.
He must have felt the change in my demeanor, because he raised his head to look at me. His eyes pinched when he registered the look on my face.
"I have to go…" My voice was desperate, wild.
He nodded reluctantly and pulled out of me. He settled me on my feet, and we both took a moment to readjust our clothing. As soon as my coat was smoothed back over my hips, I stepped around him and bolted towards the door, never looking back. I had to get the hell out of here. I felt multiple pairs of eyes boring into my back as I opened the door and exited the smoky bar, and I was incredibly relieved when the door closed behind me. With frantic gasps, I filled my lungs with the cool night air. After catching my breath, I slunk back across the street to my hotel.
When I entered the lobby, I headed immediately to the restroom where I scrutinized my appearance. My cheeks were flushed. There was a small, crescent-shaped bruise beginning to form on my neck. My hair was an absolute fucking mess. Although I didn't open my coat, and thus couldn't see the evidence, I felt the oozing moisture coating my inner thighs from where our combined fluids had trickled down my legs on my walk back from the bar. I looked—and felt—like I had just been fucked and fucked well.
I had been.
As I stared at my disheveled reflection, I recalled the old expression 'Ridden hard and put up wet.' Well, fuck. That was me to a "T" right now. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about the way I looked until I got back to the room. With a disgruntled sigh, I pushed my hand through my hair, attempting but failing to tame the tangled strands, then turned away from the damning mirror.
I exited the powder room and made a mad dash to the elevator. I didn't really want anyone seeing me like this. But when the bell announced my arrival on my designated floor, I became even more nervous. My steps faltered as I approached my door, and I hesitated before slipping the key into the lock. I didn't want face Edward while looking like this, either—unsettled and remorseful.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I pushed our door open and found the room still blanketed in darkness. Edward had not yet returned from his evening out, which gave me the time necessary to head to the bathroom and clean up the evidence of my illicit behavior. I quickly brushed my hair and splashed my face with cold water. Using a washcloth, I wiped the sticky mess from between my legs. Finally, I reached for the wedding rings that I had left on the counter earlier that evening and slipped them back onto my finger before turning away and heading into the bedroom.
I was sitting on the bed, in the dark and still in a daze, when Edward walked through the door to our room some time later. I was terrified in equal measure by the excitement that still flowed freely through my veins like the alcohol that I had ingested earlier and the feeling of dirtiness that clung to my skin like cheap perfume that couldn't be washed away. I felt a tear slide down my cheek.
Holy Shit. I can't believe that I just fucking did that!
I was safely ensconced in the dark, and when he turned the lights on, I cringed. The bright fluorescent lights exposed me in all of my post-coital glory.
"Bella?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I looked up to him, my throat working as I tried to swallow. My tongue was thick and dry, and I didn't trust myself to speak at this juncture. His eyes widened as he took in my wild-eyed look.
"Are you okay, love?" The concern turned to mild panic.
Another tear slid down my cheek. I had no real clue how I felt, so I nodded and shrugged at the same time. Then I closed my eyes, shutting him away from my vision.
I heard Edward cross the room and fall to his knees on the floor in front of me. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and buried his head in my stomach. I raised my hand to his head and stroked the silky auburn strands in a soothing manner, although I don't know if my motions were meant to soothe myself or him. As he burrowed his head into my middle, my coat fell open, once again exposing the nakedness that it was meant to conceal. I heard his small gasp.
"Shit, Bella… I can smell you," he whimpered, desire evident in his tone. He inhaled deeply. "You smell so fucking good."
He burrowed his head further, nuzzling my coat open and burying his nose in the soft, silky curls that resided at the apex of my thighs. He took another deep breath, savoring my scent. I moaned involuntarily when he slid his tongue slowly between my still-wet folds.
"Fuck..." He drew the exclamation out. "You taste even better."
His tongue danced wickedly across my overly-sensitive flesh. Despite the fact that my body had been completely satiated—twice—in the last hour, I fell back onto my elbows, unable to resist him. His hands pressed gently against my thighs, and they parted easily, exposing the wetness that was still seeping from my center. He lapped at the moisture with his scorching tongue before raising his eyes to look at me accusingly.
"You've been naughty, haven't you, Bella?" he asked in a serious tone.
I nodded meekly.
"Did you enjoy it?" His voice was a curious combination of question and demand. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt an incriminating blush warm my neck and cheeks.
"Answer me, Bella!"
"Oh, God… yes…." My guilty voice shook with restrained emotion.
"Look at me, love," he commanded.
I opened my eyes warily. He was still poised between my legs, and he lowered his hand to cup my sex.
"This is mine."
I shuddered at his fervent words, but nodded in acquiescence. His tongue darted out to once again sample my slick folds, and my body trembled in response. A wicked sparkle gleamed from the emerald depths of his eyes when he finally spoke.
"I fucking love the way I taste inside of you," he purred, his eyes boring into mine. "You know that, don't you, love?"
I gasped at his words and nodded again, this time smiling. Edward always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better.
* * * * * * *
"That was pretty intense tonight, huh?" he asked later, when we lay spent. His fingers trailed abstract designs across my shoulder and collarbone. I snuggled in closer, nuzzling his neck.
"I don't think I've ever been that turned on in my entire life. I can't fucking believe I did all of that." I groaned and felt my cheeks flame. I ducked my head deeper into his neck to hide my self-conscious blush. Even after five years of marriage, a single look from Edward could still instantly ignite me to the point of sexual insanity. That is the only excuse that I had for finger-fucking myself and then having sex with him in public tonight.
"I didn't think you had it in you." He chuckled wryly, kissing me on the forehead.
This particular scenario had been Edward's suggestion. Tonight, he had dared me to touch myself in public, claiming that it was one of his fantasies. I really hadn't thought that I would be able to pull it off. I had been pleasantly surprised by my courage and by the fact that I had taken it far beyond what even he had imagined. Not to mention having sex in public, which was one of my fantasies. Although I was glad that he had indulged me, I doubted if it was an experience that I would engage in again; I had not enjoyed the prying eyes that intruded upon our tender moment.
"Yeah, I think I even surprised myself…" I sighed. "I don't know how we're ever gonna top that one." The disappointment in my voice was evident even to my own ears. I looked up at him with a wry smile.
"I honestly don't know if we'll be able to, love. But I'm sure that we're gonna have a really fucking good time trying."
* * * * * * *
A/N: You didn't really think that I would have Bella cheat on Edward, did you?