The Unexpected Cowboy
Thanks so much to Kelli (Breath-of-twilight) , I've sent so much her way lately and she's busy enough as it is. Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they're Stephanie Meyer's. But I wish I owned Jasper.
I was sitting in front of the TV, but I wasn't really watching it. I was restless. Something was stirring inside me and I couldn't put into words what it was. Like an itch that I couldn't reach. As I fidgeted, absent-mindedly trying to shake the growing tension, I flicked my eyes to the screen. Gerard Butler was on there looking as fine as I don't know what, and then it hits me.
Great, just great. I'm horny and alone. That's never a good combination.
I know most people would simply take matters into their own hands, literally. Maybe with the use of some all-singing-all-dancing, vibrating-buzzing-plastic shit. Hell, I have such a contraption upstairs tucked safely away in my panty drawer. But 'Little Jasper' just wouldn't cut it tonight.
Weird name to call my 'little friend' I know, but at least no-one would ever guess what the hell I meant if I ever said I had a date with 'Jasper'.
Aw shit. I look at the screen again, to see Mr Butler half naked and rolling around with Angelina Jolie. She's gorgeous and he's, well, bite-the-back-of-my-hand sexy. I am definitely straight, but tonight the sight of those two going at it sends a distinct throb directly to my lady-bits.
"Fuck this." I mumbled to no one, and trudged upstairs to my room.
I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to get out of this apartment before I used up every battery in the place trying in vain to get some shred of release.
Oh to be a guy. Few tugs on your junk and it's all taken care of. Me? I just couldn't get there.
Not once. Not with Little Jasper, and certainly nowhere even close with an actual guy. Maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself. Or maybe I was just crap at getting myself off. Whichever, all I know is that I'm 24 and I have about ten years worth of sexual frustration trapped inside me, just screaming to be let out.
Well, if I'm going out, I may as well do it properly.
My favourite (and tiniest) black skirt is calling me from my closet. That, with a particular red top that shows off my cleavage rather spectacularly with the right bra, seems to illustrate my mood perfectly. As in, 'I'm horny as fuck and seeing as how I am a loser with no man, I shall dance and drink Jack Daniels until I forget about the aching and throbbing going on between my legs'.
I pull on my favourite 'fuck-me' boots (because let's face it, a girl can dream) and head out of my room, after a fleeting glance towards the open drawer where Little Jasper lies, not quite so hidden, after I'd had to rummage through my panty drawer to find the matching knickers to the aforementioned bra.
Why bother hiding him? I thought. Nobody but me comes in here anyway.
A half hour later, and I was in my favourite rock bar, Jack in hand – of course – realising, a little too late, that it's kind of sad when a girl goes to a bar alone. Let's face it, in this town, she's either a loser or she's working. I may be hard up in the sex department, but I'm certainly not that desperate for a shag.
An hour and a half later, and I'm five double measures of Jack down, and three sheets to the wind. The atmosphere in here tonight though, is fantastic. My favourite tune 'Supermassive Black Hole' by Muse is playing. My hips are swaying to the bass I can feel reverberating through the floor and the loud rock music sends the crowd (myself included) into a massive wave of hysteria. I could almost feel the collective conscious trying to lose themselves in the music.
Or maybe that was just me. I know I certainly was.
At least I'm not back home.
Some guy with a bowling ball for a head moshed his idiot ass right into me as he jumped around like a lunatic, and I was immediately reminded of the reason I'd left England a little over a year ago and come to the States to start again in the first place.
Las Vegas seemed as good a place as any. People come here to escape all the time.
Fucking James. That tosser swept me away, only to disappear, taking any shred of romantic optimism I had with him. It's not a long story, or a complex one. Just the usual story, of a girl who falls for the guy that seemed great, but turned into a complete arsehole after he got into her knickers. Motherfucker.
I was now really pissed. 'Huh...well, at least I'm not gagging for it anymore' I thought to myself as I stomped down hard on his behemoth foot with my five inch stiletto heel and stomped off back to the bar for another drink. Whilst hearing a string of profanities I know are directed at me slowly fade out as I walked away.
As I reached the bar, I heard a voice holler to me from behind the bar.
"Bella! What's up girl? 'Bout time you got your sassy ass over here to see me!" Rosalie called over the music as she sashayed over to me (because she never just walked anywhere) and handed me my usual drink of Jack and coke over ice, plus a shot of something red.
"Oh, nothing much Rose, just the usual." I smiled at my best friend, who was currently – yet carefully – jiggling the shot of red stuff under my nose. I took the proffered shot and necked it in one go.
"Shit, Rosalie. What is this?" I asked as I slammed the glass back down on the chunky mahogany bar.
"A red-headed slut. Why, do you like?" She asked with a knowing smirk.
"You know it, Duchess." I giggled, as she moved to serve another customer.
I watched as she moved behind the bar, almost dancing really. Amazed at the way she interacted with the customers, the other staff, hell, even the drunk who tries to hit on her every Saturday night and never takes her not-so-subtle 'Fuck off, Tyler!' as his cue to give it up.
The last chords of Fall Out Boy's version of 'Beat It' fade out, to be replaced with The Offspring's 'I Want You Bad' and I look over my shoulder to survey the dancing masses in front of me. Generally, I knew just about everyone who comes to this bar. Hell, I'd certainly been in here enough over the past year to be considered at best a local, or at worst a possible alcoholic. So I was completely caught off guard when my attention was caught by a guy I'd never seen before in my life.
He stood out from the crowd. Not because he was practically the only one in the place not so much as swaying to the music. Not because he was the only one in the place not wearing a band shirt or other some other similarly typical 'rock' gear. But because he was absolutely FUCKING HOT! I know that's such an American expression, but something polite and English just wasn't going to cut it.
I mean, talk about the perfect timing of a song. I really did want him bad.
My girl-parts were suddenly alight with a yearning, throbbing desire as I took in the sight of him.
He was tall, with strong shoulders topping a lean, but by no means skinny frame. He was holding his drink in one hand, the other resting in his pocket causing the side of his shirt to ride up slightly, giving me a sneak peek of his tanned stomach. The sleeves of his fitted, dark grey shirt were rolled up to reveal a set of gorgeous forearms with a watch on one wrist, and a wide leather cuff on the other. He leant over to talk to someone I couldn't see, and when he returned to his previous position, he shifted his weight, so that he stood on one foot, the other resting on the wall behind him, and fuck me if he wasn't wearing cowboy boots. I was ready to spontaneously combust.
I was stood there trying hard to control my body's unexpected reaction to this guy, but failing miserably. To say I was caught off guard, would be an understatement because I was now, openly I fear, gawking at the fuck-hot hunk of honest-to-God cowboy who's obvious yet quiet beauty was currently taking my breath away.
He seemed to be unaware of my lack of tact (thank God), as he took a swig from a tumbler that appeared to contain whiskey. It was such a stereotype that I had to chuckle. Though as the amber liquid flowed past his lips, I was visited with an unexpected urge to follow it's progress down his throat by tracing a line down his neck with my tongue.
Hmmm...I bet he tastes amazing. I mused, biting my lower lip as I got lost in my thoughts. Lovely, slightly – well ok, very – pervy thoughts in fact, until they were rudely interrupted by a certain blonde bombshell squirting water at me.
"What the fuck, Rose?" I squealed, as she doubled over with laughter. "Great. Now my top is completely soaked." I tried, without success, to dry it off with some paper napkins from the bar, but the deep red fabric clung stubbornly to my chest. Well, at least I'm not wearing white.
"What was I supposed to do, B? I've been trying to talk to you for the past five minutes. Seeing as you were off in your own little perverted world, it was the only way to get your attention." She grinned. "Don't think I didn't notice you checking out the hot cowboy over there."
"What? I...I mean...I wasn't, I...shit. How do you always know?" I had a feeling I was flushing with that annoying blush of mine.
"Haha! Busted." She leaned in conspiratorially, "I didn't until now. But he is one of the hottest guys my eyes have ever had the pleasure of mentally undressing."
Well, shit. That girl cannot help herself. Not that I could argue, if my shirt had a collar, I'd definitely be loosening it right now. I may as well go home before she tells him about my unabashed staring. Picking up my bag from the bar, I look to make sure that her Highness hasn't sauntered off to find that six and a half foot, tall drink of water. But he's disappeared.
A quick, yet thorough scan of the room and there was no sign of him. Though, thankfully, Rose was still behind the bar. My insides fell, and my girl-parts seemed to ache for the loss of him. But at least I enjoyed the view while it lasted!
Back at my apartment, I sat down heavily on the couch and tried to shake him from my thoughts. Definitely not an easy task. In fact, it was proving to be impossible. His muscles flexing in his long, strong arms as he lifted the glass to his lips. His strong thighs that had been sheathed in dark, beautifully fitting, yet slightly worn out jeans that I'd only managed to get a glimpse of as the crowd undulated between us.
Oh man, this is pathetic. I'd seen him for all of ten minutes!
Seriously, though. That man genuinely looked like a real-life version of someone from one of those adverts for all things American that I'd seen growing up in the North of England, like Levi's, Wrigley's or Marlboro. And hell if I didn't want to sample anything and everything that man was selling.
One long shower later (no happy ending, naturally), and I was in my favourite comfy chair, in my vintage AC DC t shirt and men's pyjama bottoms flicking through channels on the TV, waiting for Rose to come home from the bar. I'd left the bar earlier than I'd planned and it was only just one in the morning, clearly still early, so with my own slightly more generous measure of Jack and coke, I opened the door to our little balcony, stepped out and lit up.
I'd actually given up smoking before I moved here, but since the only job I'd managed to get since I arrived was in a call centre, cigarette breaks were a necessary way to break up the monotony of my average working day.
I'd only been out there a minute or two when I heard the front door open. Weird, Rose usually stays for a drink or five after her shift ends. I thought as I heard her walking across the hardwood floor of the living room talking on her cell phone. It wasn't until after she'd called my name that I heard other voices.
Oh hells bells, please don't tell me she brought some of the guys from the bar home with her.
The people Rosalie worked with there were a mixed bunch. Angela and Ben were great fun, but Jessica was a vapid and vindictive tramp, and Mike was, to use another American term which I am starting to really love, a douche.
With a sigh, I put out my cigarette and headed back inside.
"What's up, Duchess? You're home early. I wasn't expecting you back for-" I stopped in my tracks as I entered the kitchen and found a mahogany haired god of a man peeking out from behind the fridge door.
What is going on here, two incredibly gorgeous men in one night?
Whatever it is, I am definitely thankful for whatever cosmic hiccup made it happen.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Said the sex-pot, as he stretched out a very large, strong hand and I shook it, realising that he must have been bending over to look in the fridge because he was enormous! An absolute mountain of a man. "It's Bella, right?"
"Erm, wow – I mean. Yeah. Hi." Ok, so I'd apparently turned into a bumbling imbecile at the mere sound of his voice. Who the hell was this guy, and how can someone stun a person like that? He dwarfed me, both in height and build. It is definitely a surreal moment when Atlas peers out from behind your fridge door!
"I'm Emmett," he chuckled at my momentary lapse in verbal capability, "Need a refill?"
"Sure, thanks very much." Thank God, my vocal skills had returned.
"I'm guessing you're drinking Jack and coke?" He asks with a grin, "Seeing as they're the only drinks you seem to have in this place."
"What can I say, other than coffee, it's the only thing we drink." I reply smiling. I'm amazed how easy it is to talk to him. You know, considering he's like a Greek god or something.
"Didn't think you Brits were much into that stuff. Shouldn't you be drinking Pimm's?" His laugh was like caramel, smooth and rich. I thought that I could easily listen to it all day.
"How the hell do you know what Pimm's is?" I asked astonished. It's such a typically English drink. Usually, it was only drunk at Wimbledon in summertime, with the inevitable serving of strawberries and cream.
"J and I went travelling after college. We spent the summer in London. It was great fun."
"J?" I ask, as I notice the generous measures of alcohol that he was pouring into four glasses. There's someone else here?
"He's my best friend. Oh, speak of the devil." He explained looking past me and lifting one of the now poured drinks and passing it to someone behind me.
Holy cocking hell!
I turn round and I literally end up face to chest with a very tall man. He doesn't tower over me quite as much as Emmett does, but I am only five foot four. I still have to take a step back to be able to look up and see the face that sits above what I can tell through his shirt, is an incredible body. And as I do, I am immediately greeted by the most panty-wetting smirk I have ever had the good fortune to have directed at me.
A panty-wetting smirk that was currently adorning the face, of none other than the hot cowboy that caused me to need the shower and change of knickers I'd had to have as soon as I got home earlier.
I somehow managed to retrieve my jaw from the floor, and speak. Hoping to God, that I hadn't started blushing. "I'm guessing this is J?" I asked, turning to Emmett.
"Certainly is." His eyes sparked as he spoke, almost as if he was trying to get some other silent point across to us.
I turned to introduce myself to the handsome stranger, but he beat me to it.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella." Well fuck me here and hard. He's from Texas. There is no way this guy could get any better. I struggled to breathe as my heart went into overdrive and my lady-parts twitched and stirred.
"How do you-" I began to ask, but once again, he beat me to it.
"Rosalie told us your name." He explained with a reassuring (and sexy-as-hell) chuckle.
"Of course she did." I laughed. "Hang on, where is she?" Even if Rosalie wasn't absolutely stunning and I was actually able to tear my eyes away from him, I'm sure I would have spotted her come in behind the deity in front of me. It certainly wasn't like her to stay away from such a delectable man-feast. Especially considering she had obviously brought said feast home with her.
"She's on the phone, ordering pizza. Though I don't know where she'll get some at this time of night."
"Have you seen Rosalie?" J shrugged and Emmett choked in an attempt to say something I was sure would be something like 'Hell yeah I have!'
"Exactly." I laughed, as Emmett's gasping eventually died down. "I've stopped asking. When it comes to The Duchess, nothing surprises me anymore. She's a force of nature."
"The Duchess?" Asked J with a smirk.
"Again, have you seen her? She's like the Princess every little girl imagines growing up. She's not arrogant about it and it's a fact she's obviously aware of, but we agreed that a Princess was a little weak. 'The Duchess', on the other hand, sounds feisty. Which, Rosalie definitely is."
We were all laughing in agreement (while I wondered how they seemed to know her that well already) when, as if on cue, she glides (once again, she did not simply walk) in to the kitchen with the biggest, cat-that-got-the-cream grin. With sly wink to me, she hopped up onto the counter next to Emmett. He handed her drink to her and they exchanged a look that can only be described as an 'eye-fuck'. I actually had to turn away. As I took a sip to hide my blush, I looked up only to find J doing the same.
"Should we leave them to it?" He asked, leaning down to whisper in my ear. His warm sweet breath ghosting over the ridiculously sensitive flesh of my neck, thus triggering a light shiver down my spine and a rush of moisture to seep into my panties.
Fuck, any more of that and I may just come undone right here.
"Definitely. I'll grab the Jack though. I don't think it'll be safe to come back in here for a while." I giggled and led him out to the living room. "Do you want to sit outside? It's still warm out."
"Sure. Think I could use the fresh air."
He followed me out to the balcony, and we sat on the IKEA garden chairs Rose had found in the sales last September.
"So I'm guessing they err...'met' tonight?" I asked him as I fiddled with the soft pack of cigarettes I still had in my pocket from earlier. They don't sell them in the UK and the novelty of a soft pack hadn't worn off for me yet. I wondered if he'd be completely repulsed if I sparked up. I needn't have worried though, as he pulled an identical pack out of his shirt pocket. I was wrong, he could get better.
"Yeah, just as you were leavin'. Oh, sorry, you want one?" He said, offering me a cigarette.
"Thanks." I took the proffered cigarette, noticing how big and strong his hands were, and wondering what wondrous things I was sure they could to me if he were at all interested. I seemed to have surprised him by pulling my silver Zippo from my pocket and lighting, first his, then mine. Then a thought struck me. "Wait, how do you know when I left the bar?"
I'm sure I must be hallucinating, but I swear he was blushing as he explained that they'd seen me talking to Rosalie, due to Emmett having not been able to take his eyes of her since they'd walked in. "It was pretty god-damned funny when she hosed you down."
Oh God. Does that mean he actually saw me eyeing him like a juicy steak? Shit.
As I internally cringed with that realisation, I remembered the reason she had soaked me with the soda hose in the first place and immediately remembered what I was now wearing. Fuck! I automatically became self-conscious as I registered that I must look like a complete tramp, and I must also have become a mute as it'd been a couple of minutes since he last spoke and I had yet to answer him.
Shit, what did he say? Oh, right...
"I'd love to say it was a random thing for her to do, but like I said, nothing surprises me with her anymore. Also, I can't say with any shred of honesty that it hasn't happened before." I chuckled.
"I gotta say, you're other shirt was nice, but I like this one better." I was stunned into silence as he eyed the writing across my chest for a beat too long, before catching himself and raised his eyes to meet mine. Then that seriously sexy grin crept across his face as he leaned into me and growled "Though, that skirt and those boots were hot as hell. Those I'd like to see again." Then he winked at me.
Well there goes my second pair of underwear tonight!
I don't know if it was the Jack talking, or simply that despite my inability to go five minutes in his presence without my body having some sort of reaction to him, I actually felt incredibly comfortable with him.
Suffice to say, I was shocked to hear myself say "Well J, if you're a good boy, maybe you'll get to see them again."
"Well, now Miss Bella. When Rosalie told us she had a naughty English roommate, I thought she was just trying to make me feel better about being the third wheel. I'm more than happy to be proven wrong."
He scooted his chair closer to me, and I just about fell out of mine as he leaned towards me, eyes smouldering and murmured, "Now, if your breasts look as mouth-watering under this shirt as they did under that soaking red handkerchief you call a top, well then...I guess I'm gonna have to be on my best behaviour now won't I?"
I think my jaw must have literally dropped because he raised a hand to gently push it up again with the side of his forefinger while trailing his thumb across my chin. I thought that it seemed such a tentative and careful gesture for all his forwardness and bravado.
What I did know was that either, he was some sort of hypnotist, or my body didn't know how to react to that, because it locked down like a deer in headlights and all I could do was watch as he began using the hand he'd brought up to my chin to guide my face closer to his.
Both of our cigarettes lay smouldering in the flowerpot that was our make-shift ashtray as I looked into those deep blue eyes that were framed with impossibly long, thick eyelashes that were so dark in contrast to his naturally light hair. My pulse started to quicken as he slowly leaned down to meet me halfway, then positively went into warp speed as his lips finally touched mine.
I had been wrong, his lips didn't taste amazing. They were sublime.
His sweet whiskey breath heated my nervous body as his kisses moved from my mouth, traversed my jaw line and continued down my neck. I found that my hands had weaved themselves into his honey blonde hair and I sighed, embarrassingly loudly, as he found the spot on my neck that never failed to turn me into a quivering wreck. That is, on the rare occasion someone had actually bothered to find it.
I felt him chuckle into my neck as he moved off his chair to kneel between my legs.
"Mmmm...yes, Miss Bella. I really do think I'm going to have to see those boots again."
"Hmmm?" Was all I could manage as I felt his hands slide softly over my knees and up my thighs to gently part my legs to allow him to move closer to me, thus putting his waist (and therefore, his groin) flush with my own.
Thank God, his hands hadn't travelled any higher, or the dampness that had seeped through my panties would make it painfully obvious how turned on I was.
However, from the minute he moved between my legs, it had become increasingly more obvious to me that he was just as turned on. He was practically straining to get out of his jeans. Damn. I was beginning to realise that those jeans were hiding a pretty sizeable cock. And I had a feeling that if, by some miracle I did get to see what was inside them, I would definitely not be disappointed. My mouth started watering at the thought, as my stomach tightened and my core began twitching with excitement.
All of which, considering we were all but welded together by this point, I'm pretty sure he could feel.
He made the most delicious sounds as I brought my hands down his sides, not being able to resist copping a feel of his gorgeous arse. My hands continued their journey round his thighs and I heard his sharp intake of breath as they slid over his rock hard bulge. Oh my...
I hadn't worked up enough courage to undo his zipper yet, so instead, I grabbed the front of his shirt and was just about to wrap my legs around his waist to draw him impossibly closer, when a loud cough sounded beside us.
Aw hell! Those two had appeared out of the door to the balcony and were now smirking at us. Emmett's cough sounded like a truck rumbling.
The only bit of action I've had in over a year and I'm being cock-blocked. Motherfucker.
J and I broke apart, with me panting slightly and clearly looking more than a little bit flustered, and him looking just as calm and collected as before. Only now, he had a cocky grin on his stunning face. He obviously didn't mind the interruption as much as me.
Shit. Well, I guess I should have seen that coming. How I failed to realise that I was the consolation prize I have no idea. Maybe because I hadn't been the only one left to pick from at the bar, I guess.
Yeah, it serves me right for thinking with my clit instead of my brain.
"Well, well, well, J." Smirked Emmett, "What's going here?"
"Well, before we were so rudely interrupted by you and 'The Duchess' there, I believe I was earning the privilege of seeing something pretty fuckin' spectacular." He told them unashamedly. I blushed as he turned his head to wink at me.
"Thank God you're not wasting any more fucking time, man." Emmett said, rather pointedly.
"Any more time?" Asked Rose, clearly as confused as I was by that remark.
He turned to look down at her positively tiny (compared to him) yet admittedly curvaceous frame next to him and grinned.
"Let's just say, that if I'd known about you Rose, I would have let him drag me to your bar three weeks ago when he first saw Bella. I cannot believe all the fun I've apparently been missing." He grinned as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, causing her to blush. Something I don't think I've ever seen her do in reaction to something a guy said.
Hmm...that's new. She must really like the big bear. Awww.
"Thanks big man. Way to ruin my cool, you smug fucker." J grumbled as he sat back in his chair scowling.
"Aw hell J, stop being a vag. You already got the girl, man. What are you so bothered about?" Emmett replied, trying to repress laughter.
"You're making me out to be some weird stalker that's why, you ass."
"Oh, trust me J." Rose chimed in, "She doesn't mind in the least."
I glared at her. "You do know I'm right here don't you?"
"Get over it, B." She sniggered, as she began to drag Emmett back inside, mumbling something like "I'd like to get over you, Monkey Man".
The door closed after them, but J was still scowling.
I didn't know what to do. The moments before those two had come out here had been intense, and frankly, down-right hot. Now all that sexual tension had been replaced with real tension and I didn't know what to do or say to clear the air.
So I did the only thing that occurred to me. I opened the bottle of Jack and took a long slug. I then tapped a cigarette out of my own pack, lit it, and passed the lighter, cigs and bottle to J. To my utter relief, the scowl disappeared, only to be replaced by that heart-stopping, pant-wetting smirk I'd first seen in the kitchen after I'd literally walked into his chest.
"Don't listen to Rosalie. She's incorrigible." I mumbled nervously, trying to lighten the atmosphere again.
After all, I know what part comes next. The 'Listen, I've had a great night, but I have to go' speech.
"Yeah, Emmett is too." J laughed, "He's also right. I just wish he'd kept his god-damned mouth shut."
"Huh?" I was truly lost now.
"Shit." He muttered under his breath.
Good God, this man could use the 'C-word' and I think I'd still find it sexy. Oh my lord, he actually looks nervous. "That's not the way I wanted to tell you this, but I've been coming to the bar for weeks just trying to get up the nerve to talk to you. You're fairly intimidating you know."
This I had to laugh at. "Me? You are joking right? I'm absolutely average, especially next to Rose. You're the intimidating one. I mean, it's not like me at all to ever start getting hot and heavy with a bloke I met ten minutes before, but Jesus. Do you even know how gorgeous you are?"
Fuck! How the hell did that just slip out?
I must have looked mortified, as he smiled as he raised his hand to lift my chin again. "Right back at you, darlin'."
Needless to say, I was now a gibbering wreck once more.
He cupped my cheek with his warm palm as he continued. "I finally got up the nerve to speak to you last week. I had decided to stop being such a pussy, and get my ass over to you, but you had vanished from the bar. I thought you'd gone to the bathroom, but when you didn't come back I knew I'd missed you. So I went and spoke to Rose instead."
"Oh." I knew it. Second prize Bella.
"No!" He cried, startling me out of the misery spiral I was about to start tumbling down. "About you. I talked to her about you!"
He was suddenly off his chair and kneeling down in front of me again, with the sweetest, most sincere look in his eyes. "She told me that you'd be in the bar tonight, even if you didn't know it at the time. She said I'd better bring a friend for her as she didn't want to be the third wheel in her own house. Think her exact words were to bring 'a hot friend that would make sure I didn't bottle out.' I knew Emmett wouldn't let me. Plus, she really is just his type. Seems I was right on both counts wasn't I?"
I was stunned. I couldn't believe this. Rose knew the whole time. Then realisation dawned on me.
She'd sprayed me on purpose, the sneaky cow!
"I'm guessing she soaked my shirt for your benefit then." I chuckled. It was surprisingly liberating, and soon we were both laughing.
"Well, I don't know about that, Bella. But I sure as hell wasn't complaining."
With that, his lips crashed down on mine and the dance we began before started again, in earnest. More sure of myself this time around, I let my hands roam and explore his glorious shoulders, grab onto his strong arms and slide under that charcoal grey shirt that I'd been imagining ripping off him since I'd first spotted him in the bar.
His skin was soft, though it was pulled taught over the magnificent set of muscles I was now discovering his shirt had been hiding. Whoa, is that a nipple piercing? My legs found their way round his waist (of their own accord obviously). To my surprise, J pulled away until he was leaning backwards without moving his hips and simply stared at them.
"What is it?" I asked, now unsure of myself. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Hell no, Bella." He all but growled, setting my girly-bits on fire once more, "I just can't wait to see these legs around me just like this, only with the skirt and boots on instead."
I was stunned. My only involuntary reaction was that my eyebrow quirked as a grin spread across my face and I asked, "Is that a fact?"
This time I think he really did just growl at me and I slid down the chair as he pulled me closer to him. The hands that he'd used to pull me to the edge of my seat, were now moving with delicious intent from my hips up towards my breasts.
"And what happens when I put them back on for you?" I asked breathlessly.
"You'll have to wait and see. Though I guarantee you'll be blushing when you see those two randy fuckers tomorrow morning." Holy shit, he's good.
"Well, if you're going to make me blush, it may be better if the whole block doesn't see us. Wanna go inside?"
"Sweetheart, you have no idea." His southern drawl almost literally set my panties on fire, as he pulled me up to standing and kissed me sweetly. Then he growled in my ear again, and I all but pushed him through the door and up the stairs into my room.
There could have been a hundred people in my apartment and I wouldn't have noticed, or cared. All that mattered to me in that moment, was that this beautiful, sweet yet down-right knicker-wetting hunk of a man wanted me. Me. It was beyond surreal.
Thankfully, I didn't have time to obsess about it further, as he was pulling off my shirt before we'd even kicked the door closed. His shirt soon followed.
I froze as I took in the mesmerising sight of him.
His hooded eyes were smouldering as he took in the sight of my blood red bra, but I was rendered speechless, motionless and rooted to the spot as my eyes roved all over his beautiful body.
I'd always been a sucker for a well drawn tattoo, and J had many. A striking Celtic design snaked from his neck down his shoulder, the left side of his chest and ended over his ribs on that side. An identical one mirrored that on his right side. With two more designs which I would have to ask about later, one on the inside of each wrist. Yet it didn't look over the top or too much. It just looked stunning.
"What is it, Bella? Don't you like them?" He looked worried, though I couldn't think why. I was pretty sure I was blatantly salivating right in front of him.
"Are you kidding? They're beautiful. I can't stop staring at you."
"I'm afraid I don't have that excuse. I'm just plain oglin' you." He chuckled wickedly as he stalked towards me.
"Oh I have a tattoo, J." I stepped closer and whispered in his ear, "You just have to find it."
The next thing I know, I'm pinned up against the wall and his hands have fastened my wrists above my head. My legs gave way slightly as he slid his right hand downwards, leaving a trail of fire down my arm, grazing my breast, down my ribs and round my hip and under my ass to hitch my right leg round his waist.
My core was molten and throbbing by this point, as his left hand released mine above my head. It trailed down my left cheek, my neck, my cleavage, my stomach and by the time it reached my belly button, I was panting shamefully loudly, desperate for him to touch me where I needed him to the most.
No man (or toy) had ever turned me on half as much as he was now, and before I knew it, his hand had slipped inside my pyjama bottoms and were now doing wondrous things to my clit from outside my panties.
"Fuck, Bella. You're dripping." I turned my head to hide my embarrassment, but he turned it back to face him. "No, honey. Don't be embarrassed about that. You don't know how fucking hot that is."
I didn't know what to say to that, frankly. It so rarely happened, it never struck me as something sexy. He began to touch me again, and as his fingers worked their magic over my panties, his lips were at my neck, turning me to jelly.
My eyes had long since rolled back in my head, and as I battled to regain focus, I spotted 'Little Jasper' peeking out of my panty drawer. Shit! I could only hope he wouldn't notice. Maybe I could flick off the lights before he could see the bright pink vibrator that I was now desperate to hide!
I know I shouldn't be ashamed about it. I'm a grown woman, and certainly not the only one in the world who has one. Hell, Rosalie has all kinds of stuff, as I accidentally found out once when I opened the wrong drawer searching for a bra she was lending me.
It's different though if a guy finds out about your 'little friend'. It's mortifying. The one guy that found mine, was Jake, and he went nuts. We'd only been seeing each other for a little over four months, and he was furious that I felt that I still needed it. Told me he wasn't willing to compete with a plastic thing with vibrating rabbit ears, and then he left.
Muffled moans and thumps began to come through the walls, interrupting my silent freak out, and we broke apart laughing.
"I don't even want to hazard a guess as to what they're doing in there." I giggled, fingering his ornate, antique belt buckle. Before I knew it, I'd undone his belt altogether and lowered the zipper on his jeans.
What is this guy doing to me? He's turned me into some sort of horny Houdini, trying to rescue this man's cock from the unyielding restraints of his pants.
"Me either, darlin'" He mumbled between kisses. "You got a stereo in here?"
The good thing was that I had my iPod charged and docked in its speaker attachment with hours of music ready to go. The bad thing was that it was sitting on top of the set of drawers that I desperately wanted him to take no notice of.
"Yeah, I got my iPod docked. I'll go turn it on." I made to turn him away from it but, a particularly loud grunt filtered through my paper thin walls, and my head turned to the sound automatically.
Unfortunately, while my attention was diverted, he's looked round to find my iPod, and consequently Little Jasper.
To my complete and utter shock, he pulled me towards the drawers with a smirk, and silently encouraged me to put on some music. He stepped behind me, wrapping his arms round my waist and murmured into my ear, "Naughty, naughty, Miss Bella. And what is this?"
"Err...I...um...it's..." I couldn't process a single thought, never mind pick a bloody playlist while his tongue was doing delicious things to my neck.
"My, my. You seem to be a little lost for words." He was such a cheater. It was all I could do to nod. "Here, let me." He whispered. He scrolled through my playlists with one hand, while the other traced random patterns all over my stomach. I don't think he intended it to be, but it was positively sinful. "Again, I'm askin'...what's this darlin'?"
Well, for the love of all that is good and holy, that accent will be the death of me. What the hell did I have to lose? I could be immature and stupid, or I could own up to it. He's not run off so far, he actually seems more amused than anything.
"He's...my little friend." I sighed, mortified.
As I expected, he laughed. Though for a completely different reason than I expected. "He?"
Shit. "It! I meant, it." I laughed in spite of my embarrassment.
"And does he have a name?" He chuckled reaching for it. I immediately went to grab it, but he was too quick for me. "You're quite fond of this thing aren't you? Does he keep you company, Bella?"
I squirmed out of his embrace and attempted to wrestle Little Jasper from his grasp. But, being as he was a foot taller than me, it wasn't hard to hold it out of my reach. I gave up, and went to sit on my bed pouting.
"Look at that lip. So juicy and full." He crooned, sauntering towards me, looking like a fucking Adonis, with his flies undone just enough to allow me to see the hipster Calvin Klein boxers he was wearing underneath. Sweet Mother of Christ.
"Well, what do you want me to say?" I grumbled. I was beginning to get all defensive. "That I haven't been anywhere near a man since I moved to the States a year ago? That some idiot metaphorically shat on me from a great height so that I haven't even thought about being so intimate with a man until you showed up here? That I have never even had an...even with..."
I trailed off, all my defensive anger evaporating as quickly as it surfaced, only to be replaced immediately with complete embarrassment at my uncalled for rant. And certainty that he was going to laugh, and then leave.
Instead, he came and sat down next to me. He pushed the hair away from my face and lifted my chin with his finger, in a gesture which had already begun to feel startlingly familiar.
"What are you sayin', Bella?" His eyes held such tenderness, I could have cried.
I'd known this guy for all of an hour, and I'm ruining my chances of having the best sex of my life – I have no illusions that he'll want anything after tonight – by telling him this shit?
Genius, Bella. You're fucking pathetic!
"You, darlin', are not pathetic. And frankly, I am wanting to cross the Atlantic right now, and kick the livin' shit out of whichever asshole did that to you. Though there's something much more important that I think I need to give you before that happens. If I understand correctly, you've been missing out on something." He smiled and winked, acknowledging the look of mortification now evident on my face. "Yeah, you said all that out loud before."
"I understand that I must come off as more than a bit crazy, I'm sorry. Huh...wow. Little Jasper's supposed to be for fun. Just plain killed the mood though didn't he?"
"Wait, wait, wait. You named your vibrator Jasper?" I chance a look at him and was confused to find that he was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
"So? Why is that funny? It's just like naming your car, or your favourite guitar. Isn't it?"
"You have no idea why that's funny?" He started laughing in earnest now. Though, he'd begun to leave a trail of sweet kisses along the length of my neck, causing my girl-bits to jump to attention again.
Good God. With all the ups and downs they've been through tonight, I'm sure they must have metaphorical whiplash. Though, not in a million years was I complaining, this man was too beautiful by far.
"Bella, do you actually know my name?" The kisses did not stop, but he seemed to be holding back laughter, like he was waiting for a punch-line or something.
"Why, do you think I have a habit of fooling around with guys who's names I don't even know? Because I think we've covered that topic already." I replied with a chuckle. "I realise that J is a nickname. But it'll be Jason right? Though you don't really look like a Jason. Or a Jonathon, maybe? Or a Josh?"
I could feel his body shaking with silent laughter now. "What is so god-damn funny, J?"
It took him a few minutes to get it together enough to answer me, "My name is Jasper."
"You. Are. Kidding me?" I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or die of embarrassment.
"I swear I'm not. My name is Jasper Whitlock," he said as he somehow, inexplicably managed to whip off my pyjama bottoms, "And I'm about to rock your world sweetheart. Little Jasper is about to get his battery operated ass spanked. Maybe you will too if you're a good girl."
Oh sweet lord. Tonight is gonna be a good night!
A memory of Rose a few weeks ago suddenly flooded my thoughts and I began to laugh.
"What's so funny, Bella?" J asked sweetly as he lay me down on my bed and looked at me with those impossibly irresistible eyes.
"I think Rose may actually have been trying to tell me that this would happen, the sly little minx." My laughter was slowly getting louder as I began to relax and let go.
"Really? Why is that darlin'?"
"Last week, after she spoke to you I'm now guessing, she must have sensed that I was a bit down. You know, a little homesick or something. Anyway, she came sashaying in, this one day, saying she was taking me dancing, but I told her I wasn't really in a good enough mood. Of course, 'The Duchess' already anticipated that I would say that and she'd got me a present to cheer me up. Apparently, she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer."
"She got you a present?" He asked, confused. "Why would that mean she must have known this was coming? And you soon will be, darlin'. I promise you that."
"She got me a bumper sticker that seems to have been quite prophetic." I couldn't keep my laughter contained anymore as I told him, "It said, 'Save a horse, Ride a cowboy."
At that moment, we both fell on each other, all groping hands and greedy lips. Both of us filled with want and reckless abandon.
And I knew that I would do just that.
For as long as he'd let me.