Title: Want You Bad: A Trailer Trash Tale
Characters: Bella/Edward, Alice/Jasper
Summary: Bella and her best friend Alice spend the summer slumming it at the trailer park. Edward and Jasper make it a hell of a lot more fun. BPOV AH/OOC
Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine. Only this little story was my idea.
Want You Bad
"It's a trailer," I remarked flatly. What else was there to say? My father expected me to live in a tin can. Okay, it didn't have wheels, that was a plus. But two lots over someone had placed a beat up old Camero on what could be assumed to be their lawn. It didn't have tires. It was simply sat there on cinderblocks.
"But," my father argued gruffly, "see, there's one of those pink plastic flamingos. You love flamingos."
"When I was like five, Charlie," I sighed. "Are you sure this isn't just a cruel joke?"
"No. It's the right address. This is defiantly Billy's summer place."
"But, it's a trailer!" I exclaimed once more in exasperation just in case he hadn't gotten the point before. Childishly I wanted to stomp my foot, hold my breath, and refuse to enter. I wanted to demand that we return to Forks, like right the fuck now. But I was too mature for that. I was eighteen. I would be spending the entire summer without parental supervision. In a trailer.
"Whatever," I huffed, gathering up my bags. Charlie smiled.
"Here, let me help you get those, honey."
"I've got these fine," I told him, "but could you grab my typewriter out of the back of the truck?"
My father managed to call out, "The key's under the mat," just in time for me to trip up the second step and come crashing down on narrow boards, which made up the front porch.
I was momentarily but grabbed the piece of metal, then practically at eye level. "Found it," I grumbled, my shin ridiculously fucking sore. I hated that stupid trailer already and dragged my phone out to text Alice. Boy would she be surprised when she got there the following day. Her little yellow Porsche would fit right in.
"Uh," I turned, "I don't have any service."
"Oh, shoot, Bells. I forgot to tell you they don't have a tower out here. Billy said something about a pay phone down at the office. The first trailer when we pulled in?" I could only stare at him in stunned silence.
"I think that's everything," he went back to his car, "except for this!" And when he turned back around he was holding a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a of couple bottles of Boone's Farm. Was he fucking kidding me?
"I'm not twenty-one." I eyed him skeptically, a freshly waxed brow cocked. Was it a test? "And you're a police sheriff."
"Not right now. Right now I'm just Dad."
"You drove the cruiser out here."
Charlie was annoyed, his gaze narrowing. "Look do you want the booze or not?" He started stowing it back away.
"No, want it! Want. Want." I reached out, grasping, and heaved a sigh. So he kindly placed it back down on the ground, grinning. And then I thought about it. Why would he have bought me such low class liquor? The wheels in my brain turned. And then it hit me. "You knew!" I screeched. "You knew all along that this was a trailer," pause, "in a trailer park and you didn't say anything. Oh my god," I ranted, "I can't believe you!"
His answering smirk supplied all of the information I needed.
With a quick peck to my cheek he climbed into the car and looked out at me through the passenger side window. "Isn't this great American novel you're writing," the mustache twitched and I knew what his next words would be, "the reason you won't be attending college this fall," bingo, "about fifties pin-up girls spending a summer at the lake?"
"In the most rudimentary, watered down of ways, yes, but…"
"Well, it's all right here, sweetie!"
"Dad, the fifties as in glamour. This place is a trailer park," I lowered my voice, glancing around, "filled with trailer trash!"
"You're sounding a bit big for your britches there, Bella. I mean, it has a lake. And these people are America, look around you, do you see all those flags? The red, white, and blue?"
"No, seriously, are you looking? They're all Confederate!"
He just nodded, "Don't forget to call every Sunday, honey," offered one more tight smile, rolled up the window, and left me there. Alone.
I patted my antique, only slightly rusted truck once and sighed, "Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy." Then lugged the rest of my shit, including the booze, through the narrow front door.
Once inside I just stared. Talk about kitsch. Who would have guessed Billy Black was into all of that? I was standing in the middle of the living space. Kitchen forward to the left, television room slash dining room forward and to the right. Directly to my left was a narrow hallway. It was a very good thing Alice and I were both so small. These places were not built for modern people. But I was certain I would find the bathroom in that direction.
I didn't. I found two bedrooms. Or what was supposed to be two bedrooms, they were really just one room with a faux wood partition wall. I took the second "room" as it had a larger window and a view down toward the lake, as opposed to the first "room" that stared directly into the bedroom of the trailer next door. Sorry, Alice, you just weren't done packing yet and needed another day, so you got the shaft. Dropping my harvest gold, hard shell suitcase and make-up box, the ultimate hunt for a toilet commenced.
There wasn't one. Seriously, I looked everywhere. There was no fucking bathroom. I had to piss so bad I used to kitchen sink. Apparently the trailer trash in you came out rather quickly or mine wasn't buried nearly as deep as I would have hoped. After that incident? It was time for a drink.
Alice had the majority of our booze; she had a fake ID, expensive tastes, and a deep wallet. So I cracked open the first bottle of Boone's, Blue Hawaiian, and took an experimental sip. It looked like toilet bowl cleaner and tasted like Kool-Aid and chemicals but after a quarter of the bottle I started to feel warm, tipsy, and moderately more relaxed in my surroundings.
Shrugging out of my cardigan, I unbuttoned my short-sleeved polka-dot blouse nearly down to my navel, exposing a good view of my white lace, boned bustier, and slipped off my kitten heels. Then sighed in relief. I knew I looked fucking hot in that shit but sometimes vintage pin-up wear could be confining.
And so the drinking continued. With half the bottle gone I almost started to like the place until I fucking had to pee again. I was defiantly drunk and knew that I was uncoordinated on my best day so the idea of once more climbing onto the counter, perching over the drain, and letting loose seemed like a shitty plan. Alice would probably have arrived the next day to find me dead on the dirty kitchen floor, black petticoat and green skirt rucked up to my waist, panties around my ankles, with a formerly bleeding head wound. No, thank you.
"To the office," I instructed myself, forgetting my shoes and marching out the door. The sun was actually shining, which also served to improve my attitude toward the place.
The office really was just another trailer, an even smaller one. I knocked but with no result. "Um, hello?" I called, testing the door and finding it unlocked. "Anyone here?"
There was a desk, two ratty old chairs, a coffee table littered with overflowing ashtrays and a stack of beer cans so high I worried I would knock it down destroying a world record. There was however no one working. Figured. Fucking trailer park trash.
A creaking noise from just beyond the main room, off to side, caught my attention and I hoped maybe someone was in fact there, just napping or taking a break. "Can I use your bathroom?" I asked, stumbling over my words, slurring slightly. Damn that Boone's Farm was potent stuff. "I don't, um, appear to have one?" Now that sounded utterly idiotic. I hadn't even looked around the back. Maybe it had like an outhouse or something. That was always a possibility.
But still nothing. "Seriously. I need to take a fucking piss. Is anyone here?" I slammed my hand down on the counter in sheer annoyance, found it sticky, and grimaced. Gross.
Behind me the door to the office opened and quickly slammed closed again; I couldn't bring myself to turn around and face the newcomer. I just wanted to die, right there. Or wet myself.
"Well, well now," a male voice drawled, "would you look at what we have here." The need to pee was forgotten instantly. That had seriously been the most fuck hot, warm butterscotch running down my thighs, panty dropping, sexy voice I had ever heard.
Please let him be as gorgeous as he sounds, I silently prayed, straightening up to my full height. Before I could turn around though I found myself all but pinned to the front desk, two heavily tattooed, sinewy arms blocking me in from either side. And a massive hard-on pressed against my ass. Oh, god. Yes, please. Should I have been horrified, disgusted? Probably. But I really wasn't. I was drunk and suddenly I was living out a porn. My brain boiled in my skull. Oh well.
Grabbing hold of my right arm he spun me around to face him, nearly bending me backward to lay across the desk. I didn't even think of the gooey surface substance beneath me.
"Oh, honey. You're going to kill me," he moaned, biting his full, pink, lower lip, smoldering eyes racking down my form. I stared back with wide eyes. He was a god. He was chiseled from marble by an artist. How was a man like that, living there, in some low rent, trailer park?
Bright, colorful tattoos ran from his neck down under his white wife-beater, across his shoulders, and down his forearms. I unconsciously wet my gaping mouth, hips jutting out toward him. My gaze shifted upward first to his hair: untamable, rumpled, stuck out in every different direction. It was a wild, vibrant shade of auburn, and as he shifted against me, running one hand through those messy locks I felt my knees go weak. And then his eyes. They were forest green, the shade of them almost unreal in their hypnotic beauty. My lungs burned. I couldn't breathe.
Ugh, trailer trash or no, I was going to fuck him. Repeatedly. In a thousand dirty, nasty ways.
"What's your name beautiful?"
"Bella," I choked out, too desperate for him to be articulate.
"Well," he smirked, "what can I do for you?" His hands slipped down to my waist, capturing me, and dragged me further against him and the gigantic stick he was hiding in his pants.
His intent was fairly obvious but that didn't stop my needy, inebriated brain from rambling on about the actual reason I had come to the office. All of my blood had rushed to my clit. "I, uh, can't find my bathroom?" And once the words were out I wanted to kill myself. That had been fucking innuendo and I had ignored it. I was a moron. But he grinned, his thumb tracing tiny circles on the sweet spot of my hip, driving me mad, and making me ridiculously hot. Seriously, my uterus was on fire.
"You must be communal," he told me. "You share the park bathroom closest to your unit. Where are you?" And the raised eyebrow he shot me showed that he was asking for more reasons than to just be friendly. Thank, Jesus.
"Oh," I wasn't sure. "The Black's place?"
"Is Billy here?" He eyed me warily, speculative. "Or Jacob?" His jaw locked painfully. I would have loved to see him in an all out, crazy, bare-knuckled boxing match. Shirtless, dirty, sweaty, bloody, beating the utter shit out of someone.
I twirled a strand of hair around my finger and pouted prettily. "No, it's just me. Alone. At least until tomorrow," the frown was back, "when my girlfriend Alice gets here."
"Baby," he growled against my throat, "if you don't stop, I will not be held responsible for my actions," but I just smirked at him, pleased that he was as affected by me as I was by him.
Those lips inched closer to mine as his nose traced the column of my throat. I let out a stuttering breath, grasping onto his shirt, and pulling him roughly into me. I wanted him, naked. Wanted to burn up in the fire his proximity was forming in my gut.
"Eddie?" A woman's voice called making him groan. I felt the deliriously soft touch of his tongue as he tasted the flesh just below my ear before the door banged open and he stepped away from me, quickly adjusting the bulge in his dark jeans. "Oh my," she said, clapping one small white hand to her garish hot pink lips. "I'm so sorry, dear. I didn't know you had company."
Dear? Well, she wasn't royally pissed off, she was actually grinning, so I figured she wasn't his wife but really that woman did not look old enough to be his mother either. She couldn't have been more than thirty-five. She had to have been a teen in the eighties, no other way about it. With her teased, permed, too red hair. The sky blue eye shadow and really rosy rouge. And then the clothes! An oversized t-shirt with a pink flamingo standing in front a setting sun on it, belted with a huge teal belt, and to top it all off, hot pink stirrup pants.
What was with the trailer park obsession with flamingos anyway?
Edward expertly stepped behind the desk and I glanced down at his crotch, cocked an eyebrow, and smirked. No way was he hiding that monster. His eyes went wide. Not so brave with Mommy in the room, was he?
"Mom, this is Bella," he cleared his throat. "She's staying at the Black's trailer and just had a few questions."
"Nice to meet you, Bella." She extended her hand for me to shake but all I could see were her neon orange talons. "I'm Esme Cullen and I see you've already met my boy, Edward."
Her tone had me squirming. She could see it all over me. I wanted to fuck her son, real bad.
"Well, I had better be going," I started, "Thank you again, Edward," I said turning to smile at him.
"Oh, and Bella? You're in 3G for future reference," he informed me, sounding oddly professional.
I nodded, "Well, at least I have all summer to remember that," and winked.
"All summer?" he smirked. And with a good-bye to Esme I was gone.
It wasn't until I got to the communal bathroom, which was actually fairly nice, peed, and went to check myself in the mirror that I finally noticed that my shirt had been unbuttoned the whole time. My nearly see-through lace bustier on display for my entire interaction with Edward and his mother. No wonder I had made such an impression. I sighed. I needed another fucking drink. And Alice needed to hurry the fuck up!
"Oh my god!" Alice screamed. "You bitch! You could have called and warned me that we were staying in a fucking trailer park! I brought all the wrong outfits."
I shrugged, like I wanted to deny her the experience of being surprised? But I showed her my cell phone anyway, "No service."
"Denied service? Is that even legal?" My best friend gasped in astonishment. "How do these people survive?"
I waved my bottle of Sun Peach Peak Boone's at her. "There is apparently a pay phone in the office," and then giggled my fucking head off. It was ten o'clock and I had been so bored after waking up at sunup that I had immediately started drinking; first finishing last nights malt liquor and then moving onto the second bottle while awaiting Alice's arrival. I thought about mentioning the fuck hot, auburn haired god that happened to work in said office but didn't feel like dealing with her questions, her demands to see him. Edward was mine. Alice could hear about him in due time. She needed to find her own entertainment.
"A pay phone?" she asked dumbly. "Like as in pay a quarter, make a call?"
"Actually, if you can believe it, I think you need a quarter and a dime now."
She groaned and rolled her eyes, depositing three suitcases and two cases of booze at my feet. I could barely fathom how it had all fit in her tiny little car.
"So, what's there to do here and where's my room?"
Laughing I grabbed a suitcase and told her to follow me inside. Alice's jaw hit the floor when we entered, "Oh yeah, baby. It get's better," I grinned leading her to her part of the partitioned bedroom. "Voila!"
Alice's pixy-like face immediately settled into a troubled frown, "But seriously?"
"As a heart attack, my dear. This is your room." And at that moment sound erupted from the trailer next door, Skynard's Sweet Home Alabama, at full volume. Our walls rattled.
"This is a nightmare," Alice whispered to herself, "just pinch yourself," she did, "and you'll wake up." She didn't.
"Grab a bottle sweetheart, it's going to be one long, drunk summer."
For the rest of the morning I helped Alice unpack, as much as she could considering we each only had one dresser to store our clothes in. Alice nearly fainted when she discovered that fact. And then she slugged a fifth of gin, straight.
By the afternoon we absolutely wrecked and stumbling our way down to the lake, tiny string bikinis drawing a shit ton of attention.
"That man didn't have teeth, Bella," Alice hushed as we passed a waving, middle aged man, seated on his porch, pellet gun in one hand, Keystone Light in the other. At least, I hoped it was a pellet gun and not an actual rifle. Who knew in a trailer park.
There were a few fellow bathers down by the water's edge. Naked children ran around screaming as bedraggled teenaged mothers chased after them, cigarettes dangling from their overly painted mouths.
Alice stopped short, stood still as a statue and as I followed her line of sight, caught a mostly naked, blond young woman, heavily pregnant, rinsing clothing out in the water. "She's topless," my friend squeaked, "and about to drop!"
"She's wearing underwear."
"A thong, Bella. A fucking thong. And she's doing her laundry! Pregnant. And smoking!"
"Stop. They're people just like you and me. Just living a slightly different lifestyle." Alice gawked at me as if I were insane. "Okay, a wildly different lifestyle but none the less," I shrugged. "They're not like they're going to bite or anything," and gave her a shove toward an open patch of grass where we could set down our blanket.
She complied though grumbled, "Only because they're mostly toothless."
The sun baked our pale flesh as we laid out. Neither Alice nor I had seen the sun in simply ages. Forks, Washington was one of the wettest places on the planet. Anywhere else felt like a sunny tropical vacation spot in comparison. A shadow passed over us briefly and I cracked an eye to observe the new comer and immediately sat up. "Oh, thank you, heavenly lord." There was a man for Alice.
"What," the girl in question sat up beside me, smiling lazily, eyes wide and confused.
I pointed. Just past us was a stunning, tanned, muscular, blond man. His hair was nearly to his shoulders, golden ringlets blazing in the sun. He wore only a pair of torn jean shorts riding indecently low on his hips. That man was going commando. I would have put serious money on it.
Alice gulped, hand on her throat, "Yes, please." He walked right up to the nearly naked blond and struck up a conversation. "Don't be with her. Don't be with her," my friend chanted quietly, fingers crossed.
"Uncle Jasper!" Two small, also blond children, both naked, came charging toward him, shrieking with joy. "You're back!" He gave both children a hug, twirled the two or so year old girl around and ruffled the young boy's hair. Turning back to the woman he continued to hold a heated conversation, which ended when she gave him the finger, cursing him out.
"Definitely his sister," I remarked.
Alice giggled, "Yeah, but you never know what that means to these people, do you?"
"You're terrible!" I chuckled, pushing her, nearly knocking her over. She quickly straightened back up as we saw him turn away from the water.
"Well, put some god-damned clothes on!" the man, Jasper apparently, shouted, charging back up the hill in our direction, his face set in a grimace. He stopped short, face immediately brightening, as he smirked lazily in our direction, nodded his head, and winked, "Ladies," before carrying on up to the road.
"Gah!" Alice squealed, flipping herself over on the blanket and pounding her little fists on the grass, legs kicking wildly.
"Are you having a seizure?" I cocked an amused brow.
"Alice want!" She crowed in response. Lovely, I smirked to myself. Leave Edward to me.
Later that night after a dinner of hot dogs, mac and cheese, and half a dozen gin fizzes we were still blitzed out of our minds and dancing around the trailer like a couple of idiots, listening to some old 45s Alice had found stashed away in a kitchen cupboard.
We were dressed to beat the heat, which meant we were wearing pretty much as little as possible. "Don't we at least have a fan?" Alice asked me waving a fashion magazine back and forth trying to cool us down.
"Maybe there's one stashed in the bedroom?" I wondered, leaving us both sprinting down the hall, knocking into one another and giggling uncontrollably. Alice beat me to the room, her tiny elbows were very sharp, which gave her a completely unfair advantage.
And then our music was unceremoniously drowned out by our neighbor playing what I could only guess to be The Allman Brothers. Someone was really into their southern, seventies power rock. Figured.
"God, how can he listen to it that loud?" Alice whined beside me.
I shrugged, "Maybe he's old and deaf."
Glancing up to the window facing us I saw a light flicker to life, a man strolled through the room, shirtless. "Sweet baby Jesus. Not an old man."
Alice's head whipped around so fast I was afraid she would snap her neck, her mouth dropping wide open. "Jasper," she stammered, climbing onto the bed and inching closer to the window. I joined her.
"You know we really shouldn't be spying on our neighbors," I commented, not taking my eyes off of the delicious sight before us. Alice shot me a death glare. "What? I just felt like someone ought to say it."
There was a Confederate flag hanging on the wall above his bed, posters of naked women and Nascar racers covered every other open space.
"Oh my god, Bella. I want to have his little redneck babies. Please let me have them," she whispered huskily, clutching at her chest with one hand while twirling the end of her black ponytail with the other.
I had no response. My throat was totally dry. And then his pants fell to the floor, revealing a very appealing, very muscular, very mouthwatering ass for our viewing pleasure. "Oh, fuck," I gasped. "That's the fucking ticket. Right there."
"Dibs!" Alice yelled, our window open, causing Jasper to whirl around.
And while we had been caught it was completely worth. We were getting full frontal and it was spectacular. "Wow."
"Want," Alice panted, not in the least embarrassed at being discovered. "Oh, slummy cummy!"
"That's seriously disturbing," I replied, not taking my eyes off of the show.
He held our gaze for a moment longer, smirked, and reached out to snap the lights off. "Shit," we both pouted. I shook my head, staring hard at the girl beside me. "Mary Alice, you need to learn how to work the fucking volume control."
Bang! We peered out again, eyes wide, and as we watched the blond god stroll from his trailer, down the short path, and out of sight. His jeans were back on, no shirt, no shoes, blond curls flying. A dog barked into the night.
Bang! I swallowed hard. Alice gripped my hand like a vice. That was our door.
Another knock and then, "Excuse me? Are there any little Peeping Toms in there?" He inquired, his voice lilted by a sexy southern accent.
"Oh, sweet lord. I think I just wet myself at that voice," Alice groaned.
"Well, don't leave the man on the doorstep, Alice! Go let him in."
She spun, over joyed, clapping her little hands as she bounced up and down on the moth-eaten twin bed. "You mean I can have him? You really don't mind?"
I laughed. Oh, I certainly didn't mind. Not with the equally hot, auburn haired god working the front desk. "He's all yours. I think this was meant to be," then I nodded, emphasizing my point, "it's kismet."
"I know you're in there! I saw you!" he continued.
"How do I look?" Alice asked, fanning her face. I quickly finger combed her bangs as she added another coat of red lipstick. I straightened her romper as she further cinched in the waist. "Good?" She was already moving toward the door.
"Wait," I hissed, grabbing her belt and dragging her back. I searched around frantically for all of five second as Alice tapped her foot impatiently, the knocking unceasing by that point. "Put these on!" I thrust a pair of baby pink peep toes with four inch heels of death in her direction. "He'll cream in his jeans. Now go!" I commanded.
With Alice taken care of I darted back to my "room" to check my own hair and make-up. Just because I told Alice she should have him didn't mean that I didn't first, want to meet him and second, want to looking fucking good too.
I examined my reflection in the dirty mirror, adjusting my tits, getting them up nice and high and perky. My little white playsuit was ridiculously short; it was a tiny halter dress, fitted in all the right places and flared out into a sweet full skirt. When I bent over it showed off a good portion of my fanny. And when I got it situated just right my breasts were practically up in my face. Changing into a pair of pink frilly panties I snorted. What a tease! And grabbed my leopard print peep toes. I felt fairly ready to kill. Or at least, I thought, keep up with my sexy as hell yet still adorable best friend.
Bam! Another fist hammering against a door but it wasn't ours. It was next door at Jasper's. I rushed back over to the window in Alice's "room" to get a better look and nearly fainted at the sight of none other than the bronze head I had been imagining between my thighs all fucking day. Edward. Swoon. He knocked again, cursed, muttered to himself, while roughly running his hands through his hair. I wanted to do that. Me!
"Whitlock! Yo man, you in there?"
I cleared my throat, feeling bold, and called, "Edward?" Like I didn't know exactly who it was. He nearly leapt out of his skin at my voice, spinning around, trying to find where it had come from. "Over here! Next door. 3G," I smirked.
He rubbed the back of his neck, bit his lip. My panties dripped.
"Oh, Bella. Hey," he walked decidedly in my direction, I could see him grinning. "Have you seen your neighbor?"
"He's here," I returned. "You want him? Come and get him," and with that I slipped from the window, the room, and waited. Our door opened literally four seconds later. Did he sprint?
There was one moment of stunned silence. I entered from the hall, Edward bounded into the room. He wore a skintight black v-neck t-shirt and dark jeans, cuffed at the bottom. He, like Jasper, was barefoot. Did no one wear shoes in a trailer park? It seemed like the kind of place one might contract ring worm. Or tetanus. They should have been more concerned.
Alice stared slack jawed for what felt like a full minute before shouting, "Aha! I knew there was a reason…"
"This is Edward, Alice," I motioned her with my eyes to shut the mother fuck up. "And don't you want to introduce me to your new friend?"
"Oh my god, Bella! This is Jasper," Alice waved to the man seated on our couch. Switching her gaze over to Edward she cocked an eyebrow.
"Don't worry, darling. We've met," her sofa companion smirked. "Eddie's my cousin."
"Oh, really," I stared from one to the other looking for family similarities. I found none other than extreme fuck hotness.
Jasper turned to Alice, "You didn't tell me your roommate was so very pretty." Alice licked her lips, inching closer to her new friend. "And you," he pointed to Edward, "didn't mention that such gorgeous women had just moved in next door to me." In response the bronze haired god just rolled his eyes.
"Can I get you guys a beer?" I asked as Alice was far too consumed in Jasper's permeating haze of lust to think about the niceties.
"Hell yes!" The man in question returned.
His cousin immediately followed after me into the tiny kitchen. As I opened the tiny refrigerator, filled primarily with booze and the accompaniments to boozing, I felt him step up behind me. That rock hard cock nestled firmly between my fairly bared ass cheeks. "I thought about you all fucking day," he whispered huskily into my ear, tongue tracing the shell, pulling the lobe into his mouth for a quick suck.
"Oh god," I stuttered, pressing back against him.
Quickly I grabbed four beers and spun around, closing the fridge behind me. I offered one to Edward who took it with a smoldering look. I felt weak with desperation. All I could think about was touching him. All the fuck over.
Jasper drank his beer in what appeared to be one long swallow; Alice jumped up to get him another. "So, how old are you lovely ladies?"
"Eighteen," I replied, being pulled down to sit on Edward's lap, an unexpected but pleasant surprise. He was still hard underneath me. I shifted, squirmed, bounced, and generally worked him through his jeans as covertly as was possible in such a small space.
"My sister, Rose, is nineteen," Jasper supplied like that gave us a serious connection. "You saw her today, I think. Down at the lake?" His eyes went flinty as he faced Edward, cracking open the new can Alice happily placed in his awaiting hand. "Wearing nothing but a fucking thong. She's seven months pregnant. With her third kid no less! If Emmett knew, he would go ape shit. I told her to stop being such trash, but it's Rosie, what can you do?" I felt Edward shrug behind me, his arm tightening around my waist, guiding me a little to the left.
"Rose's man," I heard from behind me.
"Big son of a bitch," Jasper explained. "Mean too. You'd know him if you saw him. Long, curly mullet, muscle tee, shit-eating grin." Both men exploded with laughter as Alice and I shared a confused glance.
By the end of the hour Alice was utterly tanked and climbing all over the blond beside her, practically riding him on our shitty sofa. Not that I cared about that I just didn't want to share in it. Apparently neither did Edward who made frequent gagging noises at them as he consumed another four or five beers.
"What do you say we get out of here and leave those two to it?" I jumped up immediately, ready to go anywhere else. Nothing could be more awkward than watching my best friend drunkenly make it with some confederate loving twenty-three year old.
Edward was only twenty but he had his own place too. The trailer just a couple down from ours. I had noticed it the day prior due to the car on cinderblocks in the yard. Of course that would have been his place, I sighed as we approached. But people with glass houses, so I didn't say a god damned word. He told me his parents owned the whole trailer park, that was why he worked in the office, and he and his cousins lived there for free. His mother and father stayed there too but their trailer was on the other side of the lake.
I don't know what I expected of his place, probably something similar to what Alice and I had seen of Jasper's, and I wasn't disappointed. Only Edward seemed to favor half-naked, tattooed women as opposed to blow up shots of playmates. And rather than Nascar posters his walls were littered with band flyers and shots of sweaty guitarists, with a smattering of muscle cars, hotrods, and motorcycles for symmetry. Or something. I really didn't care, I just wanted to get naked and get fucked.
"Drink?" He asked already grabbing me a Bud Light.
"Sure, thanks," I downed it quickly. When I was nearly done, the silence and distance killing me, I dropped the big hint. "Want to give me a tour?"
"Uh," he glanced around. "This is pretty much it. Not a lot to see, I guess."
I huffed. Was Edward actually that dense or worse, was he not interested? What if he was just occupying me for his cousin's sake, so he could get laid? Was he throwing a dog a bone?
It seemed my only option was to just lay it all out there. "Well," I smiled coyly, leaning forward and giving him a good luck at my tits. Not that he hadn't a good fucking view the day before when I had been busting out of my blouse, bustier all up in his face. "Where do you sleep?"
"Oh," he paused, "in the bedroom." No shit, Sherlock.
I sighed. I grumbled. I watched and waited and then his face lit up like a kid on mother fucking Christmas morning. About time.
"Do you want to see it?" He didn't wait for an answer, grabbing hold of me by the crook of my arm and dragging me down a narrow hall similar to our own. His room as well was nearly identical only it was bigger. No partition. The decor continued in there. His bed was unmade, clothes strewn about, old beer cans and cigarette butts piled up on the nightstand. I couldn't give two shits.
I licked my lips, embarrassingly wet for it and unimaginably turned on. I was keening, panting, running my hands through my hair.
Edward's eyes darkened, his breathing deep and smooth. His calloused fingertips reached out to touch me, working their way from my hair to brush down my cheek, settling on my neck, his thumb feeling my pulse beat out its erratic, rushing rhythm. I would never have imaged him so gentle. I never would have thought I would have found it so fucking erotic. I leaned forward, let my chest brush lightly against his and sighed. Contact. I was burning for him.
His mouth attacked mine, aggressive, needy. Rough hands held my arms in a vice grip, locking them to my sides as I keened, wrapping one leg around his hips, pulling him closer. My bare thigh rubbed against his jeans as I sought purchase, ground against him, yearning for some sort of friction.
He released me abruptly causing me to fall back directly onto the be, then rushed to join me, climbing on top, and pressing me into the mattress. His hands moved to my waist, slid up and over my ribs before dropping back down to cup my ass. I let my own hands roam, teasing the soft flesh above his waistband, making him grunt and thrust against my hot, needy center. I moaned into his mouth, sucking his lower lip and nipping lightly with my teeth. God, I was going to fuck him. Hard. So hard he wouldn't know what hit him. And then I'd do it again.
My dress rode up under me and Edward took full advantage, his hands gliding up my slick thighs, thumbs dragging along the edge of my sopping panties. "Please," I breathed, lifting my hips. He readily complied, wrenching my little ruffled undies off, holding them to his nose he inhaled, grinning like a wolf, and tucking them in his back pocket.
His mouth was on my neck. His tongue dragged along my clavicle. His lips devoured me as he palmed my breasts. "I want this off," he muttered to himself, nearly tearing my clothes off in his haste to get at my tits. But that wasn't enough. Once my chest was bared to him he wanted it all. I unzipped the dress, shimmied out of it and went to kick off my heels. Edward stopped me, "Those stay." I bit my lip and nodded. So hot.
But he was still entirely clothed. I wanted to see him naked. I wanted to examine his ink. I wanted what I knew was a massive cock shoving its way into my sweet little pussy.
So I sat up, forcing him back with one hand placed squarely on his chest and simply demanded, "Shirt," pointing to the floor.
He did me one better. He took it all off. And god, he was beautiful. He was inked from his neck to his navel, across both shoulders, and down his arms. I saw a red rose, some scripted words, a pin-up girl. I all but swooned. And then I got distracted by his sheer nakedness. Edward was slight but muscular. Like a jungle cat, he stalked me, coming in for the kill. I squeaked as I felt him against me, dropping one hand to grasp him, feel him. His flesh was so hot it near burned me. I gave one experimental tug and watched his eyes cross. I did it again. He groaned. So I did it a third time and he knocked my hand out of the way. "Inside you," he urged gruffly.
"Do you have something?" I panted.
"Yeah," he nodded, pausing for a moment, lifting my hips, and plunging balls deep with one long, fluid, perfect stroke. My brain shut down.
He was rough, demanding, his body slamming into mine like a speeding night train. And I called out his name or the lords, repeatedly. Half way through he flipped me over, told me to hold on tight, and spent a good ten minutes ramming me from behind, pulling a fist full of my hair, teeth on my neck, as I screamed out with utter abandon.
When finally spent, Edward collapsed on top of me using my chest as a pillow, panting, tracing my collarbone with his tongue. "Oh god," I moaned arching up into him, sated but already longing for the feel of him again. My insides felt like melted butter. He had melted my girly bits with his fuck hot cock.
There was a loud crack as a beer opened beside my head. Apparently he kept beer by the bed. He took one long pull and then offered me the can. The boy was polite at least. I downed the rest of it. He looked impressed, smiled, and dropped a brief kiss on my swollen, tingling lips.
"Why do you have a Camero on your front lawn?" I questioned, my palms gliding over his corded, muscular back, down to his ass, before returning to grab hold of his hair and tug roughly, making him grunt.
"I figured," he sucked on my neck, attacking the flesh there, marking me, "one day I might want something other than my bike. I just never get around to doing any work on it."
"Oh, tell me you drive a motorcycle," I breathed. He grinned against my breast, nodding, and bit down on my nipple, hardening against my wet thighs. Very wet. That juice was not all mine. No way, no day.
"Ugh!" I exclaimed, shoving at his chest, "Did I not ask you if you had a condom? Because I distinctly remember you telling me that you did." What was fucking wrong with me? How did I not notice the hot trailer park boy between my thighs was riding me bareback?
"I did. I do. But you didn't say I had to use it."
"Are you fucking kidding me? It was implied, Edward!"
"You're on the pill aren't you?" He smiled that panty melting smile at me.
I pouted, "That's not the point."
Edward continued to smirk but his face was soft as he ran his nose along my cheek, kissing me hungrily. "How about this?" He mumbled between kisses, "I swear to marry you if you get knocked up."
I stared back at him incredulously. Could he possibly be serious? But I found myself grinning stupidly anyway, muttering, "Douche bag," as I wrapped my thighs around him guiding his cock back inside of me. Fucking trailer people: so hot but so utterly ridiculous.
A/N - Originally written for a challenge. Found this the other night and cleaned it up a bit. Thought I would post it. Hope you enjoyed!