The Stickup, So to Speak
By ElleCC & LaViePastiche
~ * ~
~*~ Bella ~*~
Two hours and I'm out of there, I thought as I pushed open the door to the mini-mart. Rosalie can have two hours and that's it.
I pressed a hand to my leg to keep my skirt from fluttering up in the wake of the closing door. The girl behind the counter looked up at the ring of the bell hanging from the handle, and I gave her a half-hearted smile.
Valentine's Day parties were not, under any circumstance, my favorite way to spend a Saturday night. And Rosalie's idea to herd together all of her single friends like they were lonely sheep was cute but irritating. Her own Siamese attachment to Emmett didn't help matters.
On top of that, she'd suggested—strongly—that I "put some effort" into my appearance because apparently some guy from Emmett's office was my long-lost soul mate. That I fundamentally believed the whole idea of soul mates to be utter bullshit didn't seem to bother her. "I don't think you'll need it, but it can't hurt," she'd said. "I don't want you complaining to me when you're fifty and alone just because you couldn't find a curling iron." So, to make her happy, I'd spent an entire extra three minutes on my hair, which was probably about what she was expecting from me, anyway.
I'd give her two hours; that seemed a particularly generous amount of time for some soul mating to take place.
I stopped in front of the wall of beer coolers. Rosalie had asked for wine, but I had heard Em in the background when I was on the phone with her, making his case for beer and saying that it was just as romantic as wine. I figured that a little of both wouldn't hurt.
The store was unusually empty for a Saturday night, but of course the one other person in the shop was right in front of the six-packs of Emmett's favorite.
As I approached and prepared to ask the guy who was standing there to move for a sec, he let the door in front of him swing closed and turned toward me.
Any words I'd been about to say died on my lips.
Luck would have it that just before my best friend was to set me up with one of Emmett's sure-to-be-fun business analyst friends, I'd run into the most gorgeous guy I'd ever seen.
The widening of his eyes—as if he was surprised I was there—only served to emphasize that they were the same crazy shade of blue as the ocean in those fake-looking pictures of the Caribbean.
Without my permission, my eyes raked quickly along him. A navy jacket, unzipped and too lightweight for February in Seattle. A button-down the same otherworldly color as his eyes. Blue jeans, just tight enough to show defined thighs. He was more simply dressed than someone who looked as if he deserved to be on a magazine cover, but his longish blond hair was definitely in a style, or lack thereof, that could only be pulled off by someone incredibly good looking. It was like the men's hair equivalent of one of those crazy outfits on Sex and the City.
After a few seconds of mental pillaging, I made my way back up to his face and found him watching me. I immediately noticed his lips were slightly parted and looked up to his eyes before my brain could form any ideas that might cause an idiotic blush to creep up and embarrass me.
"Sorry," he said as he stepped to the side.
"No, no, it's fine. I was just-" I waved at the cooler.
He had one six-pack in his hand and another tucked under the same arm, and he used his free hand to open the cooler door for me.
"Thanks." Because of his angle to the cooler, when I stepped forward, my arm brushed against his chest. A tiny flare of disappointment burned in my stomach as he stepped quickly back.
I bent down a little bit to look for Emmett's beer and noticed that between two full rows of other beers, there was an empty spot. I frowned and scanned all of the beer around it but didn't see another one. When it registered that the door to the cooler was open but I wasn't touching it, I looked over my shoulder and saw that the guy was still holding it open for me.
"Problem?" he asked, chin jutting toward the cooler as I straightened up and slowly turned around.
"Yeah, they seem to be out of-" I broke off when I looked at the beer he was holding and realized that both six-packs were of the one I wanted. Of course.
He noticed my look and glanced down. "This?" He held up the six in his hand.
"Yeah, but it's fine. He'll drink something else."
"Here, take one." He extended his arm the short distance between us so I could take the beer.
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that," I said, stepping back a bit and feeling the chilled air of the cooler rushing against my mostly bare legs.
"I insist. One's enough and I don't want your boyfriend to be disappointed." He raised an eyebrow and shook the beer a bit.
"Oh, it's not for my boyfriend...." I internally rolled my eyes at how quickly those words had spilled out. As if some random hottie in a mini-mart was going to care about the reason for my beer purchase.
"Well, whoever 'he' is. Here, just take it."
We stared at each other for a few seconds, and when it became obvious that he wasn't going to relent, I nodded and took the six-pack.
"Thanks," I said, giving him a much more genuine smile than the one I'd managed for the cashier.
"No problem. Have a nice night."
I stepped away from the cooler so that he could release the door. "Thanks, you, too."
He grinned—a smile that only reinforced the idea that he could be a model—and with a little nod of his head, turned and walked the opposite way down the aisle. I watched after him for a few seconds, but he didn't turn back.
I was making my way down the aisle toward the wine, my beer tucked against my chest, when I heard yelling from the front of the store. I froze in my spot as a loud voice shouted, "Up! Hands up!" I blinked a few times and adrenaline started tingling through me as I tried to remember what my dad had told me about how to behave in a robbery situation, but before I could react, an arm was around my shoulders, pulling me backward.
I managed to cut off a shriek and keep the beer from tumbling to the ground, but clawed at the arm with my free hand in an attempt to get loose.
"Knock it off," a voice whispered in my ear. The arm tightened around my shoulders and we kept moving backward until we bumped into the wall at the end of the aisle.
The voice was familiar and a relieved glance back showed that it was the blond guy, who was apparently not involved since the yelling at the front of the store was still going on.
With his arm still around me, he pulled open a door next to us, and pulled us into the store's stockroom.
As soon as we were through the door, he released me and gently pushed me away, deeper into the room. He looked through the narrow glass pane of the door as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
"There's two guys with guns. Young guys. I saw them when I was going to the register, but I don't think they saw me." He glanced down at his phone for a moment, thumb moving quickly, and then held it up to his ear.
While he spoke to 911, I put my beer on the ground and crept forward to look through the window. He frowned down at me when he saw what I was doing, but moved a little to the side so I could fit in front of him without being directly in front of the window, but still be angled so that I could see the front of the store. He was tall enough—more than tall enough, really—that he could see over my head, and we both watched through the window while he talked to a dispatcher.
From where we were, I couldn't see very much because of the racks of wine and snacks between us and the front counter. I could make out the tops of two heads—one near the door, one in front of the counter—and the cashier's face was clear. My stomach tightened when I saw her expression: she was trying to be tough but it was obvious she was frightened. My guess was that she wasn't much younger than I, and at least twenty-one since she was working here. Having a gun waved in her face on a Saturday night was probably not what she wanted to be doing.
There was some more shouting, clear even through the door, and I flinched. When my beer buddy put his hand on my shoulder, I unthinkingly raised my own to cover it. His fingers separated and pushed up through mine, squeezing them, and my anxiety level dropped a little.
"Thanks." I looked up in time to see him finish and disconnect the call. "The cashier triggered an alarm as well," he said, looking down at me, "and they're on their way. They said it was good to know that there were other people in the store and that we should just stay here."
"Okay, good," I murmured, looking out the window again.
Even though he had no reason to stay as close as he was, he didn't move, and he even kept his hand on my shoulder. In the random and scary situation, it was nice to not be by myself, and I stayed still, watching.
For several moments, nothing seemed to happen; all I could hear was the loud hum of the refrigerators and coolers surrounding us, and our breathing. Suddenly, the gunman standing in front of the counter swung around and stared right at our window.
"Shit, down." His arm curled around me again and forced me into a crouch. I held my breath, waiting for the door to slam open and expose us, but it didn't happen. "I don't think he saw us," he said after a moment, sounding as relieved as I felt.
I nodded and bit my lip, trying to regulate my heart rate, which had accelerated with the close call.
"Hey," he said, his tone much softer. "We're fine back here. Don't worry." When he started rubbing my arm, I realized I was shaking a little and took a deep breath.
"Thanks," I said, turning my head so I could see his face.
"For what?" he murmured. His voice was deep and his eyes were bright and clear, even in the low light of the stockroom. As I took in his face from just inches away, I realized how intimate our position was. He was leaning against the wall, his knees spread to accommodate me, and I was pressed back against his chest. The arm not around me was still rubbing my arm and it wouldn't take more than one of us moving just a couple of inches in order for our lips to touch.
Any reduction in my pulse was obliterated as my heart started to race.
I licked my lips before I could stop myself, and didn't miss how his glance dropped to my mouth. This close, I could smell him, was literally surrounded by him. His arms, his legs, his fresh, clean scent.... In the dim room, I could hear his breathing pick up, too, and felt it against my back as his chest rose and fell.
The arm across the top of my chest pulled me more tightly to him. I open my mouth slightly as his hand on my arm rubbed harder and then skimmed over the back of my hand, which was perched on my knee. Without breaking our locked stares, I raised my fingers a bit and he threaded his through them.
And then three things happened in quick succession.
From the front of the store there were suddenly loud sirens. It was quiet one moment and obnoxiously loud the next, as if they'd waited until they were in front of the store to turn them on. Directly on the heels of the sirens was a voice amplified by a megaphone.
As soon as the sirens rang, I jumped, startled by the unexpected shrieking noise. And when my body jerked, my protector's arm tightened around me, and the hand gripping mine dropped to my knee and squeezed.
All of this would have been okay save for one thing: if the fingers on my leg hadn't encountered my bare knee. As soon as his skin touched mine, I started—again—and a tiny voice in my head reminded me that I was wearing a skirt. A skirt that was now probably serving very little purpose as an article of clothing given the ladylike squat I was in against the blond stranger.
Almost in slow motion, I turned my head and looked down toward our joined hands and my legs. I cringed and dropped his hand, quickly tugging on the hem of my skirt with both hands, drawing it up and over my knees where it belonged.
A quiet groan in my ear suggested that I hadn't moved fast enough. I wondered if he had managed to see the entire length of my thighs before I covered them. My face heated and I ducked my head into my shoulder to hide my blush.
"I-" he said, so close to my ear that I felt his warm breath flutter the hair on my neck, but he didn't get any further because he was cut off by the megaphone voice.
"DROP THE WEAPONS AND RAISE YOUR HANDS. MOVE SLOWLY TO THE FRONT OF THE STORE."
The voice repeated the command twice more before there was more yelling at the front of the store. This time, it sounded like more than two voices, and I realized with a good deal of relief that the police must have entered the store.
When I had dropped his hand to attend to my clothing issue, my new friend had removed his arm from around my body, which left me pressed against him with nothing holding me there. As soon as it registered that we were probably safe and that I no longer had a good reason to be snuggled against him, I started to straighten up. I managed to keep myself from jumping, or from doing something likely inappropriate like leaning back into him, when he captured my elbows and helped me to my feet.
"Thanks," I said, avoiding looking at his face.
"No problem." His voice was quiet, but I could hear a measure of reserve that hadn't been there when we'd earlier exchanged our few lines about the beer. He looked through the window, and nodded without looking back my way. "We're good. It looks like they have both of them."
"Great, now maybe I won't be so- Crap!" I fumbled my phone out of my jacket pocket and saw that I was already fifteen minutes late for Rosalie's and had missed a text message.
"You okay?" He paused with his hand on the door handle.
"Yes, just late for my friend's party. She's going to flip."
"Well, hopefully she'll let it slide, given the circumstances." He inclined his head toward the front of the store and grinned. "At least that's what I'm hoping since I'm late for my party, too."
He pulled the door open before I could answer, and stepped back so I could walk through ahead of him.
He stuck close behind me as we exited the stockroom and made our way to the front of the store. We were immediately accosted by an officer holding a notepad.
"You're the two who were in the back?"
"Everyone okay?" He looked us over and flipped open his pad.
"Just a little shaken, but otherwise okay," the not-so-strange stranger said.
"Excellent. I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind." The officer looked from the blond to me and back.
"No problem," he answered. "But she didn't really see anything. She was still at the back when they entered, so I don't think she'll be able to help you."
"You didn't see anything, Miss...?" the officer asked.
"Bella Swan," I said as I shook my head. "No, I was still by the coolers when I heard the shouting, and then he pulled me into the stockroom. I never saw or heard them enter or anything."
The officer wrote something down and nodded. "That's fine. You can go, Miss Swan. Thanks for keeping a cool head."
"Oh, that was all him." I smiled up at the blond, who had his hands in his pockets and looked nothing but relaxed. He winked as I caught his eye, and the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile that made my jittery legs a little weaker.
"So, did you see them enter the store?" The officer was looking at him expectantly and an unexpected wave of disappointment rolled over me when it became clear that there was no reason for me to stick around. There was no telling how long they'd question him for, even though his story was pretty simple. I glanced at my phone again. Now twenty minutes late, and two text messages waiting.
As I turned toward the door, I thought I felt something brush my back, but when I looked over my shoulder, the officer and my new acquaintance were already deep in conversation.
I left the store slowly, skirting the cop who was talking to the shaken cashier, and the two suspects, who were handcuffed and pressed up against a cop car in the parking lot.
Once more before the inside of the store was out of sight, I glanced back. Although I could have imagined it, I was almost positive that I caught him just as he was looking away.
I inhaled deeply through my mouth and shook my head as I got into my truck. Whatever had happened in there was over now, and I had a party to get to before the hostess sent out a search party that would likely be in the form of one over-anxious business analyst.
I was a mile away from the mini-mart before I realized that on top of forgetting the beer for Emmett and the wine for Rosalie, I didn't even know my protector's name.
~*~ Jasper ~*~
At some point on my way to the party, I realized that both hands were gripping the steering wheel way too tightly. I'd like to have thought it was merely a reaction to the stress of what happened at the liquor store, but I knew that wasn't really the case. It should have been; I really should have been more freaked out by what happened, but all I could think about was the girl in the stockroom.
"Bella." I said her name out loud just once because I knew it would sound even better outside of my head.
After she left the store, that cop had to ask me every question twice because she was all I could think about. The sweet smell of her hair, the way she felt in my arms, her cute voice, yada yada yada, her goddamn thighs. Those thighs were the real reason I was about to snap the steering wheel in half. I was just trying to squeeze out the lingering feeling of her skin beneath my fingertips.
As I replayed what happened in that stockroom in my mind, I started to wonder if maybe she thought I was some kind of pervert because I was seriously close to throwing her on the floor and attacking her face, regardless of the fact that we were hiding from two gunmen who were holding up the goddamn store. I was pretty sure it was obvious, too—if not in the way my heart was pounding, or the way I was panting in her ear, then certainly in the way I'd fucking groaned when I touched her leg. I'd never had such a visceral reaction to a girl before, and it made me wonder if it wasn't the situation that did it. Was there some kind of fetish for getting turned on from being in a hold-up?
Then again—and maybe my weird pervert brain was exaggerating things here—the way she licked her lips and gave me some pretty bedroom-looking eyes made me think that if I did have some weird fetish, I wasn't the only one. And damn if that didn't make us a match made in heaven.
Emmett had mentioned at work that his girlfriend, Rosalie, had a friend that she thought I should meet, and that she'd be at their party tonight. He assured me that she was attractive—and I knew he had good taste in women—but after this evening's fiasco and Bella, I wasn't sure I was even in the right head space to be set up with anyone. It almost seemed inappropriate because I figured that no matter who it was I was meeting tonight, there would be only one girl starring in my fantasies for a while.
As I turned onto Emmett's street, I cursed myself for not bothering to get Bella's phone number or business card or something. I wondered how long this feeling of unrequited whatever would last, and suddenly the prospect of getting tipsy and flirting with someone became a little more appealing. Any sort of distraction from the thoughts of that stockroom would be more than welcome.
I managed to find a relatively decent parking spot on Emmett's street, and after quickly checking myself out in the rearview mirror, I grabbed the two six-packs from the passenger seat and headed up to his place.
"J, my man, come on in," Emmett boomed as soon as he opened the door.
"Sorry I'm late, I-"
"Don't worry about it—the party is just getting started. And your date was late too, so you're good," he said with a wink.
I set the beers on the floor so I could remove my jacket and Emmett took it and hung it up before leading me down the hall.
"Thank God you brought some beer, Rose was trying to be all high class with wine and shit." I was glad that I bothered to go back and pick up the six-pack that Bella had forgotten, though I hoped she managed to find something to take to her party.
As we entered the kitchen, my eyes landed on Rosalie first, and then on the girl standing in front of her. I felt my jaw hit the floor as recognition set in. There was no mistaking her: long, full, dark hair; slender figure; and that black skirt, which looked great where it landed at her knees, but even better when it was hiked up her very toned thighs.
It seemed fate wasn't fucking around tonight.
"...about the beer, obviously after everything that happened, I totally forgot to go back and grab the six-pack or get wine," I heard her explain to Rose.
I'd have been more freaked out about this whole bizarre evening if I wasn't so thrilled about being given a second chance to talk to Bella. I could feel the smile spread across my face as I completely ignored whatever Emmett was saying to me and stepped up to the women.
"Don't worry, I got you. I think you forgot this," I said, holding out one of the six-packs.
Bella gaped at the beer and then at me. "What are you-"
"Jasper! Hey... what are talking about?" Rosalie asked, leaning over to give me a quick hug before taking the beer I was holding. Emmett joined us, looking just as perplexed as Rose and Bella.
"Sorry, I'm late. I was stuck in a hold-up at the liquor store," I said, though I was still smirking and looking at Bella.
"What? But that's what happened to Bella..." Rosalie said, still not quite putting the pieces together.
Bella shook her head and then laughed. "Wow... this is... crazy. Rose, we were in the liquor store together. He—Jasper, right? He was the one who pulled me into the stockroom." Her eyes lifted to mine, and she gave me a shy smile. I was delighted to discover that it wasn't some creepy fetish at all. It was all her.
Rosalie's whole face practically lit up. "What a small world! Bella, this is the guy from Emmett's work, the one I was telling you about. This is Jasper!"
Bella nodded and her eyes narrowed a bit. "Of course. My overzealous business analyst," she said, with a small smirk.
Emmett still looked confused but Rosalie jumped right in. "More like your knight in shining armor, huh?" she teased, jabbing me with her elbow.
Bella and I just watched each other for a moment, and I was relieved to discover that whatever was there between us in that back room, it hadn't gone anywhere. In fact, if I was reading things right, it was now absolutely raging.
While Rosalie yammered on in the background, Emmett thankfully seemed to understand that we didn't need any further introduction.
"Well, you guys probably want to reminisce about that time you almost got killed in a hold-up, and Rosalie and I have more matchmaking to do, apparently, so we'll... uh... leave you to it." He smacked my back before grasping Rosalie's elbow and pulling her toward the dining room.
When they were gone, Bella and I continued the staring match for a few more beats before she spoke. "I'm glad you're the business analyst. I would have been pretty freaked out if you'd just followed me here."
I laughed. "Oh yeah? Is it that odd that your knight in shining armor would want to make sure you made it to your party safely?"
She giggled softly and it was like music to my ears. "Thank you. Seriously. I don't know what I would have done in that situation if you hadn't have been there. You were awesome."
"It was nothing, I was just trying to save my own ass, and you were kind of in the path to the storeroom," I said, taking a step closer.
"You're certainly not what I was expecting, I have to admit."
"And what kind of expectation does a business analyst conjure for you?"
"I don't know, but not... you, that's for sure."
"Well, it's just a day job, you know. All Emmett told me was that you were attractive and cool. I think you should kick his ass for under-selling you like that."
"Wow, fearless and witty!" she said, laughing. The playful smile she had going on was driving me kind of wild, and the tension in the liquor store paled in comparison to this.
"Hey," I said, turning mildly serious. I thought it might be good for us to find somewhere to talk, without the risk of interruption from Rosalie or anyone else. "Do you want to maybe-"
"Yeah, sure. Where?" she said, anticipating the rest of my sentence. I was becoming more and more convinced that this girl was dropped into my lap—literally, more or less—this evening for a very good reason.
I nodded toward the hall and she led the way. We passed the dining room and living room areas, where everyone thankfully appeared to engrossed in their respective conversations, and continued down a narrow hall.
She pointed to the end of the hall. "The computer room, maybe?"
I nodded, and she pushed the door open. The room was just large enough for a chair, a desk, and a small bookshelf. I'd barely managed to shut the door and turn the lock when she reached up and gripped my neck with one hand, grabbing a fistful of my shirt with the other and pulling.
I leaned down willingly and our mouths opened the second our lips met. I cupped her jaw, though what I really wanted was a handful of that sweet-smelling hair.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one," I mumbled against her lips as I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me.
"Hmm?" she hummed, dragging her mouth down my chin and along my jaw.
"I was thinking maybe I just had some weird hold-up fetish because I was feeling something in that stockroom and it sure as hell wasn't scared." I dropped my other hand to her waist and spun her around, pressing her back against the door. I stooped down so that I could more easily kiss her, and so that I could get my body as close as I possibly could to hers.
"Autassassinophilia," she murmured. I felt her teeth graze along my jaw before nipping at my earlobe.
"What?" I asked, hoisting her up.
She quickly wrapped her legs around my waist and my hands slid beneath her skirt, along those glorious thighs that had been the subject of my fantasizing the whole way here.
"Autassassinophilia. It's when you get sexually aroused from being in a dangerous situation in which your life is threatened."
"Uh, how on earth do you know that?" I asked, and though it freaked me out a little, it didn't stop me from moving my hands all the way up her thighs to her ass.
She pulled her lips from mine after a second and chuckled. "I majored in psych, and I took a class in sexual deviance. It was really fascinating stuff."
I attacked her mouth again as I squeezed her ass, and somewhere I heard David Cassidy singing "I think I love you...."
"But you're right, it wasn't that," she continued as my mouth moved along her throat and over to the soft skin behind her ear, "because we're certainly not in any life-threatening danger right now. Maybe it's the small room...."
I pulled back and smiled as my fingers quickly worked to undo the buttons at the front of her sweater. "Claustrophilia?"
She giggled that giggle and opened her mouth to respond, but I cut her off with my tongue. As our mouths moved vigorously against each other, I manged to get all the buttons of her sweater undone. I pulled it away and off her shoulder on one side, before moving my hand back to her breast. I squeezed it and groaned into her mouth before pushing up her bra.
She gasped when she felt my hand over her bare tit, tugging and rolling her nipple into a hard little peak. "It wasn't that anyway," she breathed, pulling her mouth from mine. "It was just... this." She stuffed both hands into my hair and pulled gently as she kissed me roughly.
"Goddamn," I murmured, pressing her harder into the door so my other hand could get in on the boob action. And a little bit because I really needed something to grind my painfully hard dick against.
"Wait, put me down a sec," she said breathlessly, as she unclasped her legs from my hips.
I slowly lowered her and as soon as her feet touched the ground she began to undo the buttons on my shirt. After the first three buttons were undone, she leaned forward and put her hot mouth on my chest as she worked her way down the shirt. With every button, her mouth moved lower, until she was placing wet kisses on my stomach and my hands were both fisted in her hair.
As her mouth made its way back up my chest, stalling briefly over my nipples, her hands worked at my belt, and then my button and zipper. When she slipped her hand in the fly of my boxers, I groaned and tugged her hair, tilting her head back so I could resume fucking her mouth with my tongue.
Some part of me realized that we were moving pretty damn fast, considering we'd just met less than two hours ago, but I quickly made up something in my head about how we'd been in a life-threatening hold-up and something about seizing the moment and by the end of the thought, it all seemed pretty reasonable. I figured Bella had probably done the same, so I moved my hands back to her ass and lifted her up again.
It was kind of painful to not have her hand on my dick after I'd gotten so very used to it, so I quickly dropped her onto the desk next to the computer and shoved her skirt back up to the top of her thighs where it belonged. She leaned back against the wall and watched me intently.
"These," I said reverentially, running my hands slowly up her thighs, "are wonderful. If those kids at the liquor store had found us in that stockroom, I'd have died happy, having seen these."
She laughed and pulled my face to hers. I kissed her slowly as my hands moved to her hips, and I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. Less than a second after they discarded her underwear, my fingers were back between her legs where they were met with the slippery evidence that the feeling was absolutely mutual.
I slowly ran two fingers up and down, up and down, before pressing gently and parting her. She gasped softly as my index and middle fingers rubbed in slow circles. "Shit, on second thought, maybe I did die."
My fingers slid lower and circled her entrance a few times before pushing into her. "Well, if this is the afterlife... I'm okay with it," she mumbled before moaning when I moved my thumb forward to tease her.
We kissed briefly before I pulled my mouth away again to kiss my way down to her tits. As I withdrew my fingers, I tugged one of her nipples gently between my teeth and then brought my hand up to her other breast to draw damp circles around the other one. When I had her squirming and whimpering sufficiently, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.
"Looks like someone had high hopes for their blind date," she said, cocking an eyebrow as I withdrew a condom.
"Better safe than sorry, I say." I leaned forward to kiss her as I tore open the wrapper and slipped it on.
We continued to kiss as I gripped her thighs and pulled her legs around my hips. I slipped my hand beneath her skirt and aligned us, and then my lips stalled against hers when I jerked my hips forward and thrust into her.
Her gasp was cut off when my mouth covered hers again, but as I found a steady rhythm, it became harder for both of us to keep quiet.
"Oh Jesus," she moaned, raking her fingernails down my chest before bringing her hands back up to clasp my shoulders. "Yes, mmm, yes...."
I gripped her hips tightly and pulled her forward a little more, adjusting the angle so I could really move. "Fuck... Bella, you feel fucking good." My words came in short pants, perfectly in time with the thrust of my hips.
I leaned forward and picked up the pace and then her high-pitched whimpers got even louder as her hands moved higher to my neck, and then into my hair.
"Shh," I murmured, nipping at her ear. I brought one hand to her neck and my thumb gently rubbed over her collarbone. "I'm not sure we want everyone to know just how well we're hitting off."
"Jasper," she gasped, as I squeezed her hip and pulled her against me. "Oh, yes, fuck, Jasper, yes."
Hearing her moan my name was surreal, and my stomach muscles clenched at the sweet sound of it. I was getting pretty close, so I figured maybe switching things up would help me hold off a little longer. I yanked her forward, pulling her first off the desk, and then off me.
With little direction, she turned around and placed her palms down on the desk. I pushed her skirt up again and quickly found where I needed to be. After one slow thrust, I curled one arm around her waist and rested the other on her back, and began to move hard and fast.
On the upside, she felt fucking amazing from this angle and I knew from the tenor of her cries that it felt good for her, too. The downside was that, if anything, fucking her this way was only going to speed up my orgasm. Between her sexy moans and whimpers, the incredible angle, and the increased speed, I felt like I was about thirty seconds away from some kind of catastrophic explosion.
I tried to take a few deep breaths before I moved the hand on her back to her tit. It felt so nice that I moved my other hand to her other one and then just really went for broke, squeezing as I pounded into her. Her words disintegrated into an unintelligible jumble as my thrusting became relentless.
She turned her head slightly, and I briefly let go of her breast to pull her hair back so that I could see her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth was open slightly, and her breath came in short bursts. She looked so fucking gorgeous that I had to lean forward and slow down a moment so I could kiss her. We we were at an awkward angle, but the kiss was still satisfying and when she dropped it to let out another high-pitched moan, I pressed my lips against her temple and began to speed up again.
After a few moments, I leaned back again to put a little elbow grease into it. Panting and gasping, I moved one hand down her stomach and between her legs, where it rubbed only briefly before she came undone beneath me, letting out a long, low, whine as she dropped to her elbows and rested her forehead against the desk.
I curled my body over hers, kissing her shoulders and neck as I managed another several thrusts. As her muscles slowly calmed, mine tensed. Once more, I pushed in hard and then collapsed on top of her as I came, and came, and came.
I panted against her back for what felt like minutes before I slowly raised myself and pulled out. She pushed herself off the desk and turned around and immediately we were kissing again. When we'd both finally mostly recovered, she pulled back and smiled.
"I suppose it's lucky those cops came when they did, huh?" she said, reaching up to push some of my hair away from my forehead and back behind my ear.
"Well," I began, wrapping my arms loosely around her waist, "that depends on how you look at it...."
She laughed and rolled her eyes and I ducked down to kiss her again. Eventually, when our heart rates slowed and our lungs were working at full capacity again, we got dressed and prepared ourselves to go back to the party.
I checked the hall first, and when I found that no one was out there, we both slipped out.
I ducked into the bathroom as she headed back to the dining room. After a few minutes, I walked into the living room to find her chatting with Emmett and Rosalie. I aimed to play it cool but neither of us could cull the smiles that spread across our faces as soon as we made eye contact.
"Well, it seems like we've made a connection, Emmett. I mean, sure they didn't actually meet here, but I'm taking credit for it anyway."
Emmett handed me a beer and the smug smile on his face had me feeling a little nervous. "Yeah, I'm just wondering if they hit it off first at the liquor store, or if they just hit it off the once, here."
Rosalie just smiled and patiently awaited an answer, Bella's eyes widened, and I tried to keep from laughing when Emmett winked and gripped my shoulder roughly.
"We've definitely had a chance to get to know each other better here, so thank you. You both have excellent taste." Bella glanced at me, and when she was having trouble holding in her giggles, I grabbed her hand and tugged her closer to me. "This might be your best work yet, Rose."
Elle wrote Bella; LVP wrote Jasper. We thought we'd try our hands at fluff for January's Haiti Relief Compilation, of which this was a part.
Legna989 betaed, as always—with alacrity, too. Thanks to SweetDulcinea who provided us with a few prompts when we were both having some serious #ideafail. Though we strayed heavily from the original prompt, we're thankful to her for the spark.
Thanks to all of the authors and readers who contributed to the compilation project, and to MsKathy for organizing it. It's amazing what this fandom can do when it bands together.