A particularly Vivid Dream by Kkalmm
A Twilight Fanfiction Story.
Disclaimer: All things Twilight are the property of Stephanie Meyer. Everything else is mine. Nothing may be copied without the express permission of the owner. No copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: NC-17 for sex and language. If you don't like, don't read. You have been warned!
Thank you to CharliDenae who Beta'd this one for me. :o)
Pushing my sunglasses back up my nose, I stole a quick look around me. The south satellite was crowded, but so far I hadn't been noticed. The hat covering my hair, and the sunglasses over my eyes, gave me a small measure of anonymity. I focused on my destination, and strode purposefully towards the stairs, with my battered carry-on clutched tightly in my hand. I raced up, two at a time, and slipped through the door. As it shut behind me, silence descended. There were three other people in the room; two men reading papers, and a woman, on her computer, curled up in her seat like a cat. None of them had given me more than a cursory glance on my entrance.
Emmett eased though the door and shot me a wide grin, and then it swung open again as Carlisle came in.
"Three down, two to go," he said before moving off towards the drinks.
It was always a battle to get into an airport unnoticed. If we could, it meant we had a reasonably calm wait until we boarded the plane. If not, it was a scream-fest. We never got out of airports unscathed. Our presence on the flight, and the time and place it was due to land, always got leaked. So, we were used to facing the multitude of fans, and the paparazzi, as soon as we stepped though the arrivals gate. All part of the job.
"ALICE! You got into the audition? Oh, my GOD. Well done!" The loud voice made me jump, and I saw the woman on the computer leaning towards her screen as if trying to make something out. The men in suits stared at her for disturbing the quiet. "All of you! Bella! Rose! That's amazing!" she said excitedly into the quiet room.
Emmett opened the door a notch and peered down the stairs to the crowd below. "They've nearly made it," he said cheerfully, then quickly swung the door open to let Edward and then Jacob in. "Yeah!" he crowed and slapped them both high fives. It wasn't often we got those two into the lounge without being noticed. Dragging our motley collection of bags we headed for the largest table, chatting and laughing about our luck today. The girls, our co-stars, were flying in separately, as they'd had a photo-shoot to squeeze in before they left.
As we sank down into the chairs, I pulled my itchy hat off, and ran my fingers through my trademark curls. Various hats and sunglasses were thrown onto the table as we shed our disguises. We weren't allowed to cut or change our hair until the contract was complete. I'd already decided to go for something drastic, a bit like Emma Watson did, once she'd finally finished playing Hermione. At least I only had one more film. She'd had to keep her hair, in more or less the same style, for over ten years! No wonder she cut it all off the moment the films were wrapped up.
Carlisle came back with a tray of coffees for all of us. You could tell he was a dad and used to organising and looking after people. The poor guy had suddenly inherited four grown sons. In everyone's eyes we were his kids, even he treated us as his own sometimes. There was a free-for-all for the milk and sugar as he sat down muttering something about kids. Emmett and Jacob were horsing around, it was always about strength between those two, and I couldn't help but smile as I grabbed my coffee from the scrum.
"You just try and stop me! All meetings are now cancelled, my clients will have to reschedule, and if they have a problem with that, I'll just tell them that MY daughter, and her friends, are dancing at the Royal Ballet," the woman behind me said proudly. I sipped my coffee and silently toasted their success. I thought my job was hard, but ballerinas – that job nearly killed.
I had to take a peek, who could resist a woman in a tutu? There was something about legs that went on for miles. I leant back and glanced out the corner of my eye, but all I could see was a screen full of blurred mayhem.
"Sit down, you nut-cases! You're making it go all blurred," the woman said, sounding exasperated. "Now, I need to think up a treat for you girls. Any ideas?"
I sighed – not grown-up ballerinas then. I tuned out their conversation and sat up as Emmett threw a screwed up sugar wrapper at me to get my attention.
"So, you gigging while we're in London?" he asked.
"Naw," I replied. "It's a pretty quick visit this time, isn't it? A couple a days, a week, max."
"Guess so. Maybe if we come back for longer. There was talk about a possible modelling gig with some designer label, but it's all hush, hush, at the moment."
"Maybe. You got anythin' lined up?" I asked.
"Hell yeah! I've got a modelling gig while I'm there. It's all fitted in nicely," he said, laughing.
"Yeah? Any excuse to take your clothes off, eh, Em? Fitting it all into a nice pair of Calvin's, I hear," Edward added from the other side of the table, smirking.
Jacob punched Emmett's shoulder, as he started pelting Edward with sugar packets. I just sat there laughing as Carlisle tried to rein them in. It was a lost cause.
There was a massive crash from behind me and a loud expletive. I looked over in time to see the woman ducking under the table, and then looked up slightly to see three very beautiful teenagers staring wide eyed out of the screen at me. I gave them a wink, and put my finger to my lips in a silent plea not to tell. The small, dark haired girl in the middle slapped her hand over her mouth and tried very hard not to scream. The other two were still gawking at me.
"Oh, sweet," said Emmett quietly, as he looked over my shoulder, and then he blew them a kiss. I swear the blonde nearly wet herself. The others crowded close and smiled at the giggling girls. As the woman started to sit up, she cracked her head hard on the table, swearing quietly again. We all turned away quickly, so as not to get caught. I wondered how long the girls would be able to keep it secret, before asking the woman to get our autographs.
"It wasn't that funny. See, girls. I'm putting my hair pins away. How come you can't do the same?" she asked, annoyed, and then settled back into her chair and flicked her long hair out. She'd taken it down; the subtle scent wafted over me, and the ends trailed against my arm. I realised how close she was and found myself sitting forward to compensate. Not because she was unknowingly invading my space, but strangely, because I felt I was invading hers.
"Pardon?" she said, slightly shocked, and for a moment I thought our gig was up and we'd have to smile at the camera and sign things. "My favourite actor from Twilight? I think that's one you'll have to answer first, Rosalie!" she laughed. We all froze, and I fought the urge to look at the screen. She was being played by the girls, they hadn't told her. Did I stop it? Or let it run?
"Emmett, huh?" she said appreciatively. Emmett whooped, and everyone laughed at his reaction as he slapped a high five with Edward, then blew a kiss at the screen from behind the woman's head. I stole a glance at the screen and saw the blonde blushing furiously. I was amazed the woman hadn't looked around. The businessmen flicked us an annoyed glance, but quickly went back to their paper.
"What about you, Bella?" she asked. Jacob sat forward excitedly waiting to hear the answer and Carlisle shook his head in disbelief.
"Edward," came the quiet answer. Jacob sat back disappointed. We had to laugh at the kicked puppy look in his eyes. Edward took a bow, and blew a kiss at the embarrassed teenager. The woman still didn't turn, but one businessman was looking daggers at us and we quietened quickly.
"Alice?" the woman teased. Jacob sat forward again. You couldn't keep him down for long. We all waited to find out who the little dark-haired girl liked best.
"Yeah, he's cute. Emmett, Edward and Jacob. Eh?"
Jacob leapt up and cheered, as if his team had scored at football or something. He slapped high fives with Emmett and Edward, and shot a kiss at the screen. The businessman had had enough. He stared viciously at us, and pointedly packed his things to leave. I couldn't believe we weren't busted after that racket.
"You've got me there. They're all cute and far too young, or married. I can't choose," the woman said and laughed. Part of me felt that this had gone too far, but I couldn't complain, as I'd kind of started it. Now, I was as curious as the rest of them to find out who she'd choose. Maybe an apology, and a stack of signed somethings, would ease the moment of discovery.
"I can't choose! My little pixie, they're closer to you in age than me. I don't see them that way." Carlisle's eyebrows rose, as if he realised he probably more closely matched her in age than we did. The girls looked early teens at the oldest, which put her at mid to late thirties.
"And IF I did happen to meet them, I'd smile, probably say, hi, and walk off to give them a bit of space. They've got enough screaming girls running after them and pretending to faint, that I bet they're sick to the back teeth of it all." My breath huffed out. She'd hit the nail on the head there. I loved the fans to bits, they were amazing, but there were always some that pushed it just too far. I wasn't the only one to murmur approval at her sentiments.
There was a wonderfully exuberant laugh from behind me. "All my age and single like me? In my dreams!"
Carlisle caught my eye and I grinned back, single like her? The playing field had been levelled. Jacob leant forward and quietly whispered over the table, "Age is just a number, baby!" Too damn right, I thought. I wanted to win. It was totally a man thing – ego massage and all that. But she smelt amazing, and I thought it would be pleasant to chat with someone who wasn't screaming as we waited for our flights.
I listened as she sighed. "They'd be barefoot, in smart trousers and a partly unbuttoned, white shirt. Clean shaven of course, as I'm not one for designer stubble," she said softly, almost dreamily. I looked around the table and no-one fitted that description. Well worn jeans, sweats or t-shirts, and not one of us had shaved for a few days. The truth was; we all looked pretty rough. A lot of girls went for rough, but this woman obviously didn't. I wondered where she imagined our clean shaven cheeks being rubbed.
Whoa! Where had that thought come from? I hadn't even seen her face, not when I was paying any attention to it anyway. Why was I getting so worked up?
"No, not Edward. He's good looking with amazing eyes, but he's too serious and brooding for me."
My heart leapt, Edward slumped, and we let out a collective groan. Carlisle ruffled his hair in a very fatherly manner, and then completely blew the image with his next quiet words. "You can't have both the mother and the daughter. You've got to give your elders a chance!" Edward went to punch him, but missed.
"Tempting, he's amazingly fit, but no, not Jacob either." Another groan this time, but Jacob just flexed the muscles on his 'amazingly fit' body, and smirked at Carlisle. None of us could match him, and we weren't too shabby in the abs department.
"Emmett? He's huge! Seriously built, and looks great in Calvin Klein's, but I think I'd feel too intimidated, despite the fact he's cute."
That was so close! We laughed at the hopeful look on Emmett's face, and groaned when he wasn't chosen either. I looked over at Carlisle, and he looked like the cat that got the cream. It wasn't over yet. There were still two to choose from.
He toasted me with his coffee. "May the best man win!"
"Carlisle or Jasper? Do I have to choose?" she asked in a tone of voice that did something to me. I let my breath out long and slow as I caught Carlisle's eye. From the look on his face, he seemed to quite like the idea. Shit, that woman was hot!
"Hmm, Carlisle? He actually makes a lab coat look good, doesn't he? Or Jasper? There's something about a good southern gentleman in a uniform," she said in that same voice, the one that went straight to my jeans.
"I definitely can't choose both?" she asked.
Nice idea, but no, I didn't want to share – hypothetically speaking. There was no way we could actually be with her. This was just a competition of egos, and Carlisle looked like he thought he'd already won. I sat back and sipped my coffee, trying to stare him out.
"In that case it's going to have to be… Jasper, because of his smile."
The answer was exactly what I wanted to hear, but the timing was awful. I gasped, inhaled half my mouthful of coffee, coughed, shot the rest straight back up my nose, and ended up watery-eyed and gasping for breath as the others cheered and whooped. Carlisle had the affront to look shocked. I kept coughing, fighting to get my breath back.
Then she turned.
Amazing blue eyes full of annoyance met mine, and I watched as the emotions shifted across them. Recognition, a flash of desire that took the remainder of my breath away, then shock, understanding, embarrassment and humiliation. I pushed my coffee away from me. I still couldn't breathe, let alone speak, and I was desperate to apologise and explain.
She looked around the table, taking in the faces that were still laughing at my expense, and then she whipped back to her computer screen. The three girls and another woman were obviously in hysterics. "You knew!" she snapped at them, slammed the computer shut, shoved it in her bag, grabbed her belongings, and literally fled the room without a backwards glance.
"FUCK!" I finally managed to force out between coughs.
That hadn't gone as planned at all. Jacob passed me a handful of napkins and I wiped my streaming eyes. The cough was beginning to calm, but my heart was still racing. I'd always been good at reading people's emotions, and the two that stayed with me were such polar opposites that it almost physically hurt to think I was the cause. The fleeting glimpse of desire, along with the memory of her voice, left me aroused, but it was followed by such deep humiliation that she'd been driven from the room by our presence, and that made me feel like a total shit.
"Sorry, Jazz, but you were so funny. I didn't think she'd run," Emmett said when he realised I didn't find it as funny as he did. "Do you want me to go after her?" he asked cautiously. It was a stupid offer, but I appreciated the sentiment.
"Are you mad? You'll never find her, and you'll get eaten alive out there!" Jacob spluttered. Emmett shrugged. He had a point.
"If we see her, we'll apologise and give her some stuff for the girls. What's done is done; we can't take it back now." Carlisle said diplomatically. He turned to me and delivered a large slap on my back which sorted out the last of my cough. "What did you do? Slip her some of your voodoo?" he asked jokingly. In the film, not only could I pick up emotions easily, I could manipulate them too. If only life was that easy, I could have stopped her from running away. I shot Carlisle the withering looked he deserved.
"Can't stand being beaten, old man?" I asked.
"Burn!" jeered Jacob, and laughter returned to our table.
The other businessman got up and left. We'd managed to clear the room quite effectively, but at least we wouldn't be disturbed while we waited.
Discussion turned to the next week's schedule, the merits of the next shoot location, future projects, and of course girls. They were in our faces the whole time, and we were men, what else would we talk about when we had a few hours to kill? Carlisle joined in gamely for a little while, and then disappeared off to phone his wife and kids as he always did the time everyday day. We let him go without comment – you only had to see the look on his face as he spoke to them to know that it was not a matter to be joked about.
"Whose phone is that?" Edward asked, and we quietened to listen for the unfamiliar ringing. It wasn't mine, but it seemed to be coming from my bag. Confused, I picked up my bag, but the ringing continued from underneath the next chair. When I spotted the phone, I realised it must have been the woman's, and grabbed it eagerly.
"Hello?" I answered tentatively. I didn't want to scare her off immediately.
"Hello, this is Maybelle from the information desk. I do believe you've just found a phone that's been reported missing." The broadly American voice was not the one I'd hoped to hear, but then again, was it any surprise she'd got someone else to call?
"I do believe I have, ma'am. How do I go about gettin' it back to its owner?" I asked, unwilling to relinquish this particular link to the delightful stranger we'd scared from the room.
"Well, sir –" she started.
"Jasper, ma'am. The name's, Jasper," I cut in.
"Well, Jasper. You can drop it off at the information desk or at the boarding gate. There's just the one BA flight today, so I'm assuming you'd be on the same flight."
My face split in to a broad grin, YES!
"She's on the same flight?" I checked, and the guys chuckled and shot me suggestive looks. I scowled at them and turned my back.
"Yes, it would seem that way."
"In that case, I'll drop the phone off with staff at the boardin' gate."
"Excellent! Ya'll have a nice day."
The line cut off and I watched as the phone's screen went back to black. Why did I feel as excited as a teenage boy on his first date? What had gotten into me? I'd barely seen her and hadn't actually spoken a word to her. I remembered the cool blue of her shocked eyes, and the way they'd darkened when she'd recognised me. Her huff of breath into my face had smelt of chocolate, not the bitter edge of coffee. The soft caramel curls of her hair had hung wildly around her face, and I'd been close enough to make out the slight laughter lines that had formed around her eyes.
"Earth to Jasper?" I heard, as a sugar packet hit me on the side of my head. I grabbed it as it fell and hurled it back at Emmett. Carlisle rejoined us with a, will you kids behave, kind of look on his face.
"Don't you DARE fuck this up! I won fair and square, and I WILL get to talk to her," I snarled at Emmett.
"Whoa, Cowboy!" he said with hands up in mock surrender. "Keep your chaps on!" I narrowed my eyes and damn near growled at him. His cowboy jokes had worn thin a long time ago. "I was just going to say, before you nearly take my fucking head off, that maybe we aught to sign something for the sweet girls that tricked her. They've got my respect for pulling that one!"
He waved a stack of photos at me and threw me one of the fat silver markers we normally used. I tucked the phone in my pocket and joined them back at the table where two more neat stacks of photos sat waiting for our attention. "Okay. What were their names?" Carlisle asked with his pen poised.
"Rosalie!" answered Emmett.
"Bella," said Edward softly.
"And sweet little Alice," crooned Jacob.
Carlisle laughed and muttered under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like cradle-snatchers. Emmett coughed, "old-fart." I had to laugh and Carlisle muttered again.
"Sorry, didn't catch that, Carlisle." I asked jovially.
"I said, toy-boy cowboy, kiddo. Or should that just be toy cowboy?" He said it so dead pan and seriously that he had as all cracked up. God, we were being juvenile today.
I stood, placed a pretend hat on my head, walked round the table to him in my most exaggerated cowboy swagger, tipped my pretend hat to him and answered, "Shawr thang, Gran'paw!" Before swaggering off towards the hot drinks. "Would you care for a cup of tea and a cucumber sandwich, Darlings?" I asked over my shoulder in my best attempt at oxford English. Emmett was damn near in tears he was laughing so hard. Even Carlisle's pretend stern visage cracked at that one.
I took another round of coffee and a selection of cookies back to the table and sank down into my chair. We signed the photos and tucked them away for later, and then settled into our own quiet ways of passing the time. Carlisle pulled out a paper, Edward a well worn classic book, Jacob and Emmett had some gaming thing going on. Normally I joined in, or at least took a turn, but today, curiosity got the better of me. I pulled the phone from my pocket and pressed the button on the front. I sat watching the second-hand on the displayed clock face for a long moment, and then I touched unlock. The screen filled with small text on a white background. Curious, I started to read.
…threw her over the broad leather sofa so that her perfectly shaped ass was at my mercy. I knelt behind her and ran my hands up her back, reaching for her long dark hair. When I tangled my fingers into the silky locks I pulled her back up against my rock hard cock. "You play dirty, and that's not a nice thing to do. So, from now on I play dirty too," I growled.
"Anything you want, you know that. Now, for God's sake, fuck me before we land," she replied huskily.
What the hell was I reading? What the hell had she been reading! For some reason I was shocked. A beautiful, shy, businesswoman and mother, was reading porn?
I released her dark curls and pulled her skirt up over her firm ass, grabbing the smooth flesh and kneading it under my fingers, bending her forwards over the sofa again. The thin strands of her pathetic excuse for a thong ripped away easily, and I pocketed the damp scrap of fabric. I tore open the button fly of my jeans, releasing my painfully engorged erection. Imprints of the buttons were marked into my tender flesh.
I rubbed my weeping tip against her slick folds and then over her puckered hole, eliciting moans of frustration from the wanton woman beneath me. "What's it going to be today, eh? Baby?" I asked. My voice was rough with lust.
"If you've got lube, I don't fucking care. Just get inside me NOW!" she growled back.
I shifted uncomfortably on the chair, crossing my legs to hide the tell-tale bulge that was forming. I held the phone in one hand and had almost completely forgotten about the coffee in my other. I took a quick sip and continued reading.
Hmm, no lube. That solved that one then. I guided my tip down over her sensitive skin until the purple head was against her wet lips. I teased just inside gently, and then slammed in deep, gasping as her heat shrouded me.
"Oh, fuck!" I groaned out, withdrawing and watching my length emerge slick with her creamy juices. Oh, that looked good – her tender flesh stretched around my girth. I drove in again.
"Uunnngh! GOD!" she cried and pushed back into me, shimmying on me at my deepest.
"Call my name, baby. I wanna hear my name when you cum."
"Anything! Oh, JASPER!"
What the FUCK? She was reading about ME? I was fucking solid in my jeans. An image came suddenly and unbidden to my mind, of my fingers buried in caramel curls, of my –
The phone vibrated in my hand, jarring me from my fantasy, causing me to jump and spill my scalding coffee into my aching lap.
"ARGH! Fuck!" I nearly screamed out, leaping to my feet, and dropping the coffee and the phone to the floor, as I tried to swipe the scalding liquid from my jeans. Carlisle shot up next to me – he'd played doctor enough times to know what to do.
"In the shower! Cold water, now!" he said dragging me to the lounge's shower facilities. He helped me pull the boots from my feet and then shoved me inside the shower fully dressed, detached the shower head and handed it to me, then cranked it on, full pressure, ice cold. I whimpered with relief as the pain eased.
"Ten minutes, minimum. Longer, if you can bear it. That's one place you don't want to get blisters!"
"Too damn right," I muttered as the pain of the heat slowly gave way to the pain of the cold.
I lasted fifteen minutes before I couldn't stand it a moment longer. Shaking with cold, I shut off the shower and eased my soaked jeans off, surveying the damage. Everything was red; legs, thighs, my poor shrunken penis, and damn near non-existent balls – but that was due to the cold water – they'd have crawled right back inside my body if they could have. Nothing hurt, or was even tender, which I took as a very good sign.
I was not a pretty sight, standing there bare assed, in wet socks, soaked jeans in hand, still half dressed in a dripping shirt. I looked around the shower room and was relieved to see towels and my battered carry-on case. I'd learnt long ago to always carry a change or two of clothes with me, just in case my bags went via Mexico or Scotland as they'd done in the past.
By the time I'd stripped off the rest of my wet clothes, the cold of my skin had changed into tingly warmth as my circulation returned. An interesting side effect proved that no permanent damage had been done. I pulled out a favourite soft blue shirt, and was slipping it on, when I saw the white cotton in my case. I stopped, trying to remember what it was she'd said. That was it. "…barefoot, in smart trousers and a partly unbuttoned, white shirt…"
Was that being a little too manipulative? Dressing in the clothes she'd described as her dream?
I slipped the blue shirt off, put it back in the case, pulled out my smarter white shirt and held it up. It wasn't too formal, so I'd get away with it under a vest for now. I spotted my shaving bag and remembered what else she'd said. "…Clean shaven of course, as I'm not one for designer stubble." I rubbed my chin ruefully, should I go the whole hog?
Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the shower room clean shaven, hair washed, teeth cleaned, and dressed in smart-ish dark pants, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up a bit, my black leather vest and well worn cowboy boots. Someone had even left me a plastic bag for my soaked clothes.
"You still singing soprano, Cowboy?" Emmett asked.
"Thankfully not. A narrow escape thanks to Dr. Cullen here," I said gratefully and clapped Carlisle on the back.
"All in a day's work," he replied.
"You were in there long enough. What were you doing?" Emmett asked wickedly. He held the woman's phone in his hand, and I wondered if he'd read it, too. Who was I kidding? Of course he had. I just had to take one look at his face to know. I wondered if he'd ever let me live it down.
"What? Apart from freezing my balls off?" I replied warily.
"Good point! Here you go," he said and threw me the phone. "Remember to put your coffee down before you read any more, it just gets better and better!"
I couldn't believe I'd gotten off so lightly, and then I realised that Emmett seemed genuinely impressed by the woman's choice of reading material. Wonders never ceased!
"She's full of surprises, eh?" I said slightly proudly.
"Yeah! She chose you!" Emmett said, laughing.
I'd walked into that one. I shook my head at him in exasperation and sat down again. I didn't bother with another coffee, but I did carry on reading. Emmett smirked knowingly when I had to shuffle in my seat and cross my legs again, a short while later. They were on a plane for God's sake! How on earth was I going to keep the image of caramel curls out of my head after reading this? Especially when I knew I was going to be spending the next nine hours, overnight, on a plane with this mysterious and increasingly intoxicating woman.
I had to have this woman's number. So I dialled my phone from hers, and when mine rang, I hung up, and saved the new number to my phone. She was from England, that much I was certain of now, as the number was prefixed with the UK's dialling code. I had no idea whether I'd ever get to use the number, but at least I knew it was there, and that she hadn't completely slipped from my grasp.
"Hot, eh?" Emmett asked when he saw I'd finished reading.
"Scalding!" I replied and took the opportunity to jokingly re-adjust myself in my jeans.
"Can I read it again?" he asked eagerly. I had to laugh. He was insatiable!
"Whatever rocks your boat," I replied as I tossed the phone to him. He'd read it once already, so the damage was already done.
I stretched my legs and wandered around the room a couple of times, and then grabbed a well worn book from my bag and sat down, well away from Emmett, to read.
About quarter to seven, a stewardess strode purposefully into the lounge, rousing me from my book. "Hello, gentlemen. I wanted to let you know that your flight is preparing to board. Would you like to board now, or just before departure?"
"Just before departure, please," replied Carlisle for all of us. "The fewer people that know we're on board, the better!"
"In that case, I'll be back in half an hour to take you to your seats. Please have all your belongings, and your boarding passes and passports ready."
Everything I needed was readily at hand, so I just went back to my book. When the stewardess returned, Emmett flipped me the phone and I tucked it into my pocket. I put my hat and sunglasses on again and picked up my bag. We were led quickly through the thinning crowds and whisked efficiently onto the plane. I gave the stewardess the woman's phone and asked that she return it. I watched as she went upstairs. My last tenuous link to the mysterious woman was gone.
We filed into first class and settled into our seats. There was some shuffling as no one wanted to sleep next to Jacob or Emmett. They both snored terribly. We banished them to one side of the cabin, and Carlisle, Edward and I took the other side. We were the only passengers in first class for this flight, which was the ultimate travelling experience. We could almost pretend we were normal – well as normal as it got, travelling first.
Take off was smooth, and, as soon as the seatbelt lights went off, we all headed for the bar to get a couple of rounds of drinks in before Carlisle's enforced bedtime. He delighted in telling us it was nearly four o'clock in the morning in England, and we had to at least try and get some beauty sleep.
"Hey, Jazz. I wonder if she liked your note?" Emmett asked jokingly.
"What? I didn't leave a note," I replied with a sinking feeling in my guts. One that wasn't due to the slight turbulence.
"I didn't think you would, so I left one for you," he said smugly, before gulping back some of his beer.
"Em! You bastard! What on earth did you write?" I could have throttled him! Him and his gutter-like mind.
"Hey, chill out! I just complemented her on her reading material. I wasn't rude or anything."
"Yeah? Like I believe that! The poor woman, hasn't she been embarrassed enough today?"
"I pretended I was you, my bookish cowboy."
"Reassurin', really fuckin' reassurin'," I grumbled, and wandered up to the end of first to peek through the curtains.
The downstairs business class was nearly full. A large group had congregated at their bar, cutting off access to the stairs. There was no way I'd get down there without being seen. I'd have to try later. I was determined not to leave the flight without saying sorry.
Nursing my shot of whiskey, I went back to my seat, no longer wanting to join in the banter. I read, we ate, the cabin lights dimmed, and I read some more. Eventually the sounds of chatting subsided and the tell-tale snores started up. I felt completely awake, as if I'd had a caffeine shot, but without the artificial stimulus. My brain kept running over scenarios for the conversation I was still putting off. The best being that we hit it off and I got to spend time chatting, the worst, that I got a well deserved slap in the face.
I slipped my boots off, if I was planning on sneaking though the cabin unnoticed, then cowboy boots definitely wouldn't help. I slipped my vest and socks off, too, to complete the picture she'd described. There was only one reading light on in business class, so I took the opposite aisle and kept my face turned away. I tiptoed upstairs, and scanned the seats quickly before I spotted those caramel locks that had ensnared me, trailing from a seat towards the front of the cabin.
Hesitating for a moment, I walked slowly to her seat. I'd waited too long, she was sleeping – dreaming. Fate had conspired against me again. Muttered words and a soft moan escaped her lips, and then with a sharp gasp she rolled onto her side in the reclined seat. She appeared to be waking up. I moved hastily to the nearest bathroom, to be caught staring at her as she slept, would not help at all. I figured I'd wait it out a couple of minutes, and then head back, hoping that she was either awake or fast asleep again. Awake, would be my preferred option.
The door handle rattled, startling me, so I shot the bolt back, opened the door, and stepped out without really thinking it through. There she was, my mystery woman – barely awake, squinting away from the bright light and with her hair in a wonderful wild mane around her face.
"I'm sorry," she muttered sleepily.
"My pleasure, ma'am," I replied softly, caught unawares as the moment of finally meeting was thrust upon me.
Her shocked eyes snapped to mine. They lit with that same flash of desire that had taken my breath away earlier, and then she wrenched them away from me as they filled with embarrassment.
"Fuck! Sorry!" she said in a strangled voice, stepped around me and slammed the door in my face. Way to go, Jasper!
I rested my head against the door for a moment, and heard a passionate groan that made my insides melt and my groin tighten. I pushed away from the door determined to wait, to apologise, but, in truth, it was also that some small part of me was desperate to hear that sound again. To make her, make that sound again.
It felt like she was in there a long time, the anticipation made time stretch and slow down. Very quietly, I heard the lock slide back, and I watched as the door opened and she stepped out.
"Are you alright? I heard you groan," I said softly, and she stopped, frozen to the spot, staring at my feet.
"Fine," she mumbled, and then went to duck past me.
"Wait," I pleaded, grabbing her arm and stopping her escape. She went rigid under my touch, and I quickly pulled my hand away, afraid of having her misunderstand my touch. I just wanted to talk to her, but she wouldn't look at me, and I wanted to see those blue eyes when they weren't flooded with embarrassment. She studied the floor intently as I moved in front of her. With all my usual cocky assurance gone, I suddenly didn't know what to say. Those beautiful caramel locks hid her face in a screen that divided us. I gently reached out and touched her chin, guiding her face round to meet mine. She didn't resist me, so I just took it slowly, trying to gauge her reactions.
She bit her lip and let out the softest of moans, the sound reached inside me and twisted around my groin. Not now! Not yet! Not while her eyes where right there. I mentally started work on the twenty-seven times table as I guided her face higher. One twenty-seven is twenty-seven. Just before I could meet her eyes she gasped and wrenched her face from my hand. Two twenty-sevens are fifty four. I silently pleaded with her to stay as I reached out again and slowly brought her eyes up to mine. Three twenty-sevens are…
I was lost in pools of blue, the many flecks of colour blending with the darker ring around the edges of her irises. Her pupils were wide and it wasn't all down to the dim lighting. The flashes of desire I'd seen earlier were nothing compared to the barely suppressed burn that I saw in them now. I was physically unable to look away as she trembled very slightly under my fingers.
"Beautiful," I breathed, and she bit her lip again. I was drawn to her. All thoughts of simply talking had fled my mind in the face of the beast that had been woken inside of me. I fought to suppress it, three twenty-sevens are eighty-one, but I found myself leaning slowly down towards her, four twenty-sevens are a hundred and eight, my eyes partially closing as I took in the scent of her hair. Five twenty-sevens are… are a hundred and twenty, no, thirty five. I could barely think as I slid my hand up her face, cupping her cheek. She seemed about to bolt.
"Please don't run," I whispered, so close to her lips that I felt the warmth of her breath on my face. Six twenty-sevens are a hundred and… sixty… two. The beast fought back and I tightened hard in my pants. No! Seven twenty-sevens are a hundred and eighty nine, eight twenty-sevens are two hundred and… Oh, fuck it...
I leant down and kissed her.
She moaned against my lips, trembling under my touch, and I couldn't help but tangle my fingers in those gorgeous caramel locks and kiss her softly again. The intensity of the simple motion stole my breath and left me gasping. I had to regain control. Eight twenty-sevens are two hundred and sixteen. I held her face in my hands, completely unable to relinquish my touch on her. Nine twenty-sevens are two hundred and forty three. I couldn't get enough of the scent of her, and ran my nose down her cheek, drinking it in. Ten twenty-sevens are two hundred and seventy.
I had to kiss her again, she was impossible to resist. The beast in me nipped at her lip, howling in delight as she opened hers slightly, letting me tentatively inside. Eleven twenty-sevens are two hundred and ninety seven. The soft uncertainty of the kiss brought concern into my mind. Did she want this? I wasn't forcing her, was I?
As abruptly as if a switch had been flicked, her uncertainty vanished. She kissed me back passionately, and her soft hands slid under my shirt, grabbing me and pulling me close to her body. My breath faltered as my mind raced to catch up. When I was finally able to take a breath, I wrapped my arms tightly around her and crushed her soft breasts to my chest. I desperately scrabbled for control. Twelve twenty-sevens are… Twelve twenty-sevens are… Fuck... The beast roared, and as I lost control, lyrics of one of my own songs came into my head.
…I just need sweet release. Free, free, free, the beast. Let go the leash, and watch it eat. Said free, free, free, the beast…
Oh, God, yeah! Free the fucking beast!
Her nails dug deliciously into my shoulders. Her small sounds of pleasure destroyed the last vestiges of my careful control and my pants grew uncomfortably tight. I broke away, breathless, and looked hungrily into her eyes. What I saw there nearly blew my mind, such wild passion that all rational thought halted. I lunged for the bathroom door, lifting her small frame, and stumbling through with her in my arms. I let her weight down gently to the floor as I struggled to lock the door behind me. I couldn't tear my eyes from hers.
As soon as the lock was home, I was devouring her. Kissing her neck, tasting her skin, leaning her back so I could follow her collar bone. I felt her hot breath in my hair and on my skin. I needed her, like an addict who had found a new high. I just wanted more, and more, and more.
Breathing heavily, I froze over the hollow at the base of her throat. What the FUCK was I doing? I'd just manhandled her into an airplane bathroom, and was mauling her with every intention of fucking her? What was I? Some kind of animal? The beast in me agreed wholeheartedly, and I crushed it back down. She shivered in my arms, and I finally came to my senses.
Lifting my eyes to meet hers, I started to say, "Sorry, I –"
She cut me off with a shake of her head and placed her fingers lightly on my lips. The look in her eyes would tolerate no arguments. I thought she whispered, "It's my dream." But I wasn't sure. When she gently lifted her fingers, I looked at her questioningly. In answer her eyes filled with hunger and desire that reached right inside me, twisted my guts, and filled my balls with hot fire. She smiled at the reaction of my body and ran the back of her hand over my cheek. Sliding it over my freshly shaven skin.
She purred. She actually fucking purred! Oh, God! I was going to rub my cheeks everywhere if she carried on making sounds like that. The beast bayed for more, and I buried my face in her neck, kissing a trail up towards her hair. I felt her fingers wind into my hair and I let the blissful sensations wash over me. As I went to kiss her ear, she shivered and squirmed away from me. Pressing her ear into her shoulder to keep me away.
"Sensitive, eh?" I growled, and went to nip at her again. She tried, ineffectually, to push me away and smothered her shriek by biting into my shoulder. Fuck! She was a bit of an animal herself, and that turned me on so badly. I held her for a moment, before I gave into the urge to pull her tight against me and press the heat of my erection into her stomach. When she rubbed against me, I thought I was in heaven, and then she pushed herself up on her toes and pulled me into a kiss, the friction as she slid up over me was divine.
I almost ripped her shirt in my efforts to get it out of the waistband of her skirt – I was so desperate to slide my hands over her body. The beast in me was slathering to be let loose, but I slowed down, trying to calm it, and gently ran my hands under the thin fabric and over her hot back. I couldn't help the soft moan against her lips that mingled with her own whimper of pleasure.
She pushed me away and pulled at the buttons on my shirt. Tantalisingly, trailing her fingers over my chest each time one came undone. I was so hard it hurt, and I felt each touch of her fingers as a jolt that tore through my body and only increased the exquisite pain. I sank against the door for support when she laid big, wet, open mouthed kisses across my chest and drew her nails gently down my sides. The beast in me was baying for her to press her nails in harder – much harder.
Her fiery touch skimmed along the V of muscle on my abdomen, lingering for a moment on the tattoo she hadn't looked at, but somehow knew was there. Oh, fuck, yeah! I felt my balls tighten in my pants.
One of the 'lost boys' was currently right on the edge of losing it, and I had to pick up where I left off on the times tables. Twelve twenty-sevens are… three hundred and twenty four. I drew in a sharp breath and moved her hands, and her provocative touch, safely around to my back. Thirteen twenty-sevens are three hundred and… THINK!... Fifty one.
I quickly undid the buttons on her shirt, letting the fabric hang so it barely exposed the skin underneath. She wore a simple white bra, with a deep plunge, that somehow seemed intensely erotic to me. I traced the edge of the fabric, feeling her breath stutter in her chest, and then I brazenly slipped the bra strap, and her shirt, off her shoulder. The crumpled fabric just revealed the very edge of her puckered pink areola. I let my palm brush over her tight peak as I scooped her breast from the confining fabric. It was warm and amazingly soft to the touch. There was no silicone core to this ample handful.
"Mmm, real," I murmured into her hair, as I traced my thumb across her taught nipple and felt it harden even more under my touch. My erection throbbed in my pants, and the beast within me desperately tried to break free. Fourteen twenty-sevens are three hundred and… seventy… eight.
The look in her eyes took on a wicked edge that went straight to the heart of the beast within and had it howling with delight. She slid her hands around to the waistband of my pants, branding her hot touch across my stomach muscles. OH, Fuck! Fifteen twenty-sevens are three hundred and ninety eight, plus seven is… four hundred and five. I caught her hands again, halting them at the clasp of my pants. But this time she wouldn't be stopped, and she palmed me through the thin layers of cloth. The heat of her hand slid down over me and cupped my aching balls.
Jesus fucking Christ! No! Yes! Fuck! Sixteen twenty-sevens are four hundred and thirty two. I was so close to coming that it was embarrassing, but at least that embarrassment shamed the beast into retreating momentarily as I pleaded, "Not yet. It's too much, I –"
She cut me off with a kiss and ran her hand over me again. The friction was divine and I moaned against her mouth, distracted for a moment from the kiss. Seventeen twenty-sevens are four hundred and fifty nine. I was powerless to stop her as she I unhooked the clasp on my pants and, exquisitely, slowly, lowered the zipper. Eighteen twenty-sevens are four hundred and seventy… eighty six. The anticipation I was feeling held me rigid as her fingers slid under the waistband of my boxers. Nineteen twenty-sevens are four hundred and… five hundred and… six plus seven… Fuck! Hold it together… is... are… thirteen.
Her hand closed over me and eased me from the hot confines of my pants.
The beast inside of me was writhing in ecstasy. Baying for more. Groaning passionately.
My knees buckled and I grabbed the walls for support, smacking my head against the door, as her fingers softly, and far too gently, ran the full length of me and spread the pre-cum over the oversensitive head of my erection.
I closed my eyes, fighting the sensations she caused to flood through my body. Twenty twenty-sevens are five hundred and…
"Fuck!" I muttered as her hot tongue lapped over and around me, probing my slit, and then trailing down to take in my balls.
Oh, FUCK, YES! Jesus fucking Christ! Damn that's so fucking good!
Forget the beast – I was the one writhing in ecstasy, trying my hardest not to groan passionately. She wrapped her hot mouth around me and drew me in, right up against her throat. I screwed up my eyes against the sight I knew was there. If I just looked down, I would see those caramel curls, the ones I so wanted to dig my hands into, bobbing over me. Her gentle touch was driving me to distraction, as the beast bayed for more, harder, tighter, deeper.
Giving in, I opened my eyes. The feel of her soft curls against my thighs was too much to resist. I dug my fingers into her luxurious locks, silky soft against my skin, and fought the urge to thrust back hard. My restraint was failing, the tightening in the pit of my stomach overwhelming, and I moved with her as she wound her tongue around me.
"I'm… Uunnngh!" I just managed to force the words out, to give her time to pull away. But she sucked me deeper, and I tightened my fingers in her hair. I gave in to the beast, and thrust deep, trying, impossibly, to keep quiet as my release ripped through me. She swallowed! God, this woman was so, so… Hot!
When my breath steadied, I looked down into her wickedly sparkling blue eyes. She wasn't finished with me yet, and I sure as hell wasn't finished with her. I pulled her up, crushing her warm, naked chest into mine.
"Thank you," I said softly, pulling her into a deep kiss, delighting in my own taste on her tongue. That was such a turn on, always such a turn on. Despite being spent, I wanted to relish her body so much more. I ran my hand up her thigh, enjoying the silky texture of her tights, and stopped as the texture turned to lace. Stockings, she was wearing lace topped stockings! My fingers brushed against warm, bare skin and the beast in me woke up again, slathering for more. Always more.
"Good God, woman. Are you trying to kill me?" I said roughly, as I quickly pulled her skirt up over her hips. Red lace panties! Under a business suit! Shit, if her clients knew that, I bet they wouldn't have been able to concentrate at all – I know I wouldn't have. I lifted her onto the narrow sink and pressed her against the large mirror, as I moved to stand between her legs. I caught a glimpse of slight, pale silvery stretch marks, almost hidden by red lace. Red lace. Red. Lace. I just couldn't get that out my head. The beast inside me wanted those red lace panties, and wanted them bad.
My thumbs trailed over her stockings, following the tantalising border between lace and soft skin that circled her thighs. Her muscles trembled under my touch, and I lingered on her inner thigh. A small whimper escaped her lips, and then she grabbed me and pulled me into another intoxicating kiss. My arms encircled her and crushed her tightly against my virtually naked body. I felt the warm dampness of that red lace press against my pubic bone, stirring me up, revitalising my flaccid penis. She was working some kind of magic on me.
Nails dug deeply into my shoulders and began their burning trail down my back. OH, FUCK YES! The beast was in heaven. I was in heaven. I shuddered at the delicious sensation, and then cursed inwardly when she stopped and balled her hands against my back. I broke the kiss and buried my face in her hair, trying to collect myself.
"You can. If you want to," I breathed. Oh, God, please let her want to. I kissed that sweet juncture between her neck and shoulder, fighting the urge to bite her beautiful and unmarred skin.
"You can mark me, if you like," I growled, then pulled her back into a wildly passionate kiss.
Her fists unclenched and she lay her hands gently back on my shoulders, but she felt tense and self-conscious in my embrace. I ran my thumb along the edge of that wonderfully damp red lace, lifting it out of the way and stroking gently over her with my fingers. She shuddered against me, curling her fingernails into my skin. The beast howled and writhed with anticipation.
I pushed one long finger slowly inside her and had to swallow her moan with a kiss. I as I pulled out, I felt her body tense deliciously. When I slid a second finger in deep she arched against me with a small mew of pleasure, dug her nails in deep, and dragged them, searing, over the length of my back and ass. FUCK YES! The beast in me rejoiced, roaring out its pleasure.
I held her hungrily to my body as I plunged my fingers in again, twisting and curling them to reach that elusive spot that would have her melting in my hands. The sounds she made were ambrosia for the soul. They revived me and had me aching for her, but I didn't want it to be over too soon, so I decided to return the favour she'd paid me.
"My turn now," I said roughly and reached for her red lace panties, ripping the seams and tearing them from her body. Fighting the impulse to tuck them into my pocket, I dropped them to the floor and slid down over her to rub my cheeks against her thighs. She was damn near purring again. I ran my tongue across her creamy skin, dipping under the lace of her stockings, before following the most sensitive part of her inner thigh, right up to the moist juncture I could no longer force myself to avoid.
She moaned loudly, cutting herself off when she became aware of the sound. Oh, Jesus. I so had to get her somewhere she didn't have to be quiet. I could live off of that sound alone. I put all my efforts into getting her to crack, to lose control again, but she kept her voice restrained even as her body trembled and shuddered beneath my lips and my touch.
I tucked my free hand under the cloth of her bunched up skirt, and splayed my fingers out across the skin of the small of her back, pulling her tight against my mouth. I sucked hard, working her engorged clit, and drove my fingers into that swollen, magical, spot that would be her undoing. With a deep breathy moan, that she couldn't quite suppress, she finally surrendered to me and found her release.
I held her securely while the shudders wracked through her whole body. Her quiet mews of pleasure going straight to my core and feeding the beast within. When she finally calmed, I stood slowly, fighting the urge to just drive into her. Her sparkling blue eyes held mine as her fingers laced through my hair, trailed down to the nape of my neck, and then ran deliciously along my jaw, stopping on my chin. The invitation was implicit in her eyes, as she gently pulled me towards her and into a soft kiss. I could still taste myself on her tongue, but now it mingled with her own flavour. The taste of sex.
I felt her heat and moisture pressing against me and I surged against her. The compulsion to bury myself balls deep inside her was almost impossible to resist. "Please," I pleaded softly, and crushed her tight against my body, slowly losing the fight with the slathering beast inside of me. Her soft moan almost drove me over the edge and into sweet oblivion.
"Protection?" she asked quietly, with an edge of desperation.
What? Oh, shit. Of course! Even the beast inside me quailed at the thought of having to stop right now.
"Oh, fuck!" I groaned, realising that I hadn't come prepared. The thought hadn't crossed my mind. I couldn't even remember if I still had one, in case of emergency, tucked inside my wallet. It was such a teenager thing to do, and I'd left those years behind long ago. If I did have one, I wasn't sure if it was even usable. Well, this certainly classed as an emergency, so I grabbed my pants and searched frantically for my wallet.
The worn leather was marked with the scars of time, including the circle that might just save my life. I ripped it open, inadvertently tearing the ancient stitching, and pulled the battered package out. Oh Christ! Please let it still be usable! I quickly checked for damage and saw that it was whole, and still in date, just. With immense relief, I tore into the foil and quickly rolled the rubber down over me. With every ounce of restrain I possessed, I stopped myself with my very tip resting against her hot folds.
"Sure?" I asked. Desperate for her to say, yes, and terrified that she'd say, no.
"Shut up and fuck me!" she said with her voice rough with emotion. She dug her nails into my hips and pulled me deeply into her. OH, FUCK, YES! I closed my eyes, relishing the sensations. Her tight heat clothed the length of me, and the beast within me crowed in elation. Her soft groan of pleasure was enough to entice me to open my eyes again. The look of intense ecstasy on her face was at complete odds to the tears that ran silently down her cheeks.
I held still, suddenly afraid I was hurting her. But her hands held me firmly, pulling me closer, instead of pushing me away. I kissed her tears and tasted their salt on my lips – what had she been through to cause these tears? Gently, I rocked against her, moving carefully as she slid her hands round to cup my ass. Pulling out slowly, I fought the compulsion to give in to the beast. To just succumb to the lust and simply fuck.
She took the decision firmly out of my hands and into hers. Gripping my ass tightly, she slammed me back into her, eliciting a deep growl of ecstasy. I snapped and gave into the beast, pounding into her. The sounds she tried to muffle against my shoulder, only fed the overwhelming lust, and I lost myself in the moment.
Cracking my eyes open, I caught a glimpse of caramel curls in the mirror. They bounced every time I reached the apex of my thrust, and I found myself plunging in harder, and deeper, just to watch them jounce. When I met my own reflection, I stopped moving, barely recognising the sex crazed creature in the mirror with his face pressed into a mane of caramel curls. Suddenly, I had to see her like that. I had to watch her in the mirror as I drove into her.
"I need… I need to see you. Turn around!" I said frantically.
I pulled away from her, lifted her down and turned her to face the mirror. The image I saw there was everything I hoped it would be, and it would only get better. I drank in her scent, the smell of sex mixed with the subtle aroma of her shampoo, and kissed the exposed flesh of her shoulder. Running my hand down her leg, I cupped the back of her knee and lifted it high, hooking her leg over my wrist as I grabbed the edge of the sink for support.
My gaze locked onto her face as I drove in again, sheathing myself even deeper at this new angle. A look of pure carnal bliss spread across her face, and her head dropped back against my shoulder. I moved within her, watching in the mirror as she whimpered and gasped. The beast within me was in heaven. Shit! I was in heaven, totally unexpected as it was.
"Open your eyes," I breathed into her ear, causing a shiver to run through her body. Slowly, she opened those amazing blue eyes and met mine as I pushed deeply inside her. Her hair hung in sweat darkened ringlets, her eyes were dark with sexual hunger, and her lips slightly parted as a soft moan escaped them. It was pure animal sex, total lust, and completely erotic. It was not an image I would forget in a hurry, but one that I intended to remember for a very long time.
I pressed my face into her hair, keeping my eyes on hers, and I thrust in again. She grabbed my hand and held it tightly over her mouth, attempting to curb the delicious noises she made. This was too much! I gave myself over to the beast, held her tightly, and revelled in the sounds of her pleasure.
I was so close, but I wanted to feel her come and pulse around me. "Rub yourself," I moaned against her, spelling out my fantasy. "Look at me and rub yourself."
I watched her watching me, as she released my hand and trailed her fingers down her body. When her hand disappeared out of sight I felt her finger-tips gliding over me as I pounded into her. The combined sensations were heady and nearly pushed me over too soon. I struggled to contain myself.
"Oh, God! You, not me," I pleaded, as my legs began to shake. She moved her fingers away from me and I felt her rubbing circles just above me. The movements becoming wilder as she slowly lost control.
I held her tightly, stifling her moans, and supporting her body as she came with great spasms that shuddered through her and massaged my length. I took the beautiful, unmarred, flesh of her shoulder into my mouth and held it there to muffle my sounds as I cried out my pleasure. I finally let go, and the beast was roaring and howling as my climax ripped through me. Ultimately, unable to resist the beast within me, I bit down, hard, marking her as mine – if only for this moment. Our guttural sounds combined, and all hope at remaining silent was completely lost.
My legs were shaking dangerously, so I pulled us both down onto the closed toilet seat. I was nowhere near ready to relinquish our closeness, wanting to stay inside her for as long as possible. I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my forehead in between her shoulders, burying my face in her hair. She was shaking so hard that she had to lean forwards and hold my knees tightly for balance.
I was drained, totally fucked – in the truest depiction of that phrase I could imagine. I was completely satiated, but, in a not so quiet corner of my mind, the beast was imagining what it would be like to take her somewhere with a bed and no neighbours; somewhere that she could scream and shout, and moan and gasp, without having to restrain her voice.
Eventually, she pulled herself, shakily, off my lap. I quickly wrapped and discarded the used rubber and then rest my head on her back and stroked her thigh. My hand glided over soft skin, lace, and silky stockings. The textures alone were making me wish for more. Oh! If only I had the energy, and another rubber, and a bed – a bed would be really good. I closed my eyes and let those thoughts run for a bit.
"Thank you," I murmured against her skin. The words seemed totally inadequate.
She ran some water into the tiny sink and freshened herself up, wiping away the sweat and the evidence of sex. When I moved away from her, she shivered. I tried to meet her eyes in the mirror, but she was avoiding me, almost as if I wasn't really there.
She dressed and straightened her clothes, as I pulled up my pants and stood behind her. Then ran her fingers through her beautifully wild hair. The sweaty ringlets had dried, and, in my eyes, she looked divine.
"Beautiful," I whispered into those wild ringlets, making her jump and finally meet my eyes. Her cheeks flushed and she looked away again quickly. Her eyes searched the floor, and then she bent and picked up the remains of her red lace panties. I watched as she balled them up and moved her hand towards the trash. The once wild beast in me whimpered, so I gently took the fabric from her, and tucked it into my pants pocket.
"Just so I know it was real," I said quietly, wistfully, sad that the moment was so nearly passed. Those words animated her, and she met my gaze in the mirror, laughing softly.
"Oh, but it's not. There's no way this could be anything but a particularly amazing and vivid dream. Thank you, Jasper. That was breathtaking."
I stood, stunned, as she turned and kissed me gently one last time.
"I will be dreaming of you again," she whispered against my lips. Tears were forming in her eyes as she turned quickly and let herself out of the small compartment.
The door shut softly behind her, and I slid the bolt across quietly. I needed time to figure out what had just happened. I pulled the crumpled fabric out of my pocket and held it in my hands. It was warm and damp and real. She'd thought it was a dream – that what we had just shared was fantasy. Part of me was hurt that she hadn't thought of me as real, and part was flattered that I'd so completely lived up to her dreams. I folded the red lace and tucked it back into my pocket. Proof, irrefutable proof, that it wasn't a dream.
I tidied myself up and wiped the distinctive smell of sex from my body. I gathered my discarded shirt and twisted to look in the mirror before I put it back on. I couldn't help but smile. The red welts ran the length of my back and disappeared into the top of my pants. My mystery woman was a dark horse, wild and passionate. The smile dropped from my face as I realised she was still a mystery; I hadn't even asked her name.
I slipped out of the bathroom and walked slowly past her seat. If she was awake I could ask her, but she wasn't. She slept with a small smile on her face, relaxed and peaceful, as if she'd just had a very pleasant dream. I ran my hand over my face, trying to wipe away the disappointment, then rashly bent and kissed her hair as she slept. "It was real," I whispered softly, then walked slowly back to the stairs.
"Her name is Esme Platt," a low voice said as I passed the galley. "You should know that so she doesn't just become one of your nameless, faceless conquests," the stewardess said in a hard, disapproving voice.
"She'll never be that, but thank you all the same, ma'am." I waited for the tirade, or the offer to take me to the nearest bathroom for a comparison. When it never came, I looked up at the woman who'd spoken. She looked sad and resigned.
"I didn't think so, you kissed her too tenderly for that, and now I can't hate you for not choosing me."
"I'm not like that, ma'am, and neither is she," I said, slightly affronted. I didn't sleep around. I had more respect than that. It wasn't a good career move either, better men than I, had been shot down by kiss and tell stories.
"No, I guess not. Sorry, no offence meant," she apologised.
"Funny way to not offend someone," I said slightly sarcastically.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe. It's all part of the job description when you're working up this end of the plane. I value my job too much to risk losing it."
"Thank you," I said carefully, and then headed down the stairs. I didn't quite know what to make of the encounter. She obviously knew what had happened, nearly hit on me herself, and then apologised. I shook my head, confused.
The downstairs cabins were dark and quiet. Emmett and Jacob's snores filled the first class cabin, but Carlisle stirred as I slipped back into my bed quietly. My back stung as I lay down, but I didn't move, relishing the sensation and the memories it brought as I drifted off to sleep.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty!" Emmett's distinctive tones cut into my dreams. "Come on! It's breakfast, or lunch, depending on what time zone your stomach thinks it's in."
I opened my eyes slowly, focusing on the great oaf standing over me. "Fuck off, I'm tired," I mumbled, and then rolled onto my side, turning my back.
"Sleep is for wusses!" Jacob called across the cabin. I pulled the thin pillow over my head.
"Anyone would think you were up half the night!" Carlisle said sarcastically, and I gave up and turned to look at him. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say another word. Had I been found out?
Breakfast was a boisterous affair. There was much chat and banter about our impending arrival in England. We wondered what kind of crowd it would be. There were always varying levels of frenzy; screamers, fainters, marriage proposals and declarations of undying love.
I wanted to go upstairs and speak to Esme before we landed, but I couldn't slip away. Fate conspired against me and the moment it became calm enough to think of leaving, the captain announced our early arrival at Heathrow airport and I had to sit back down.
We left the plane ahead of the crowds and made it to passport control while the queues were still short. I caught a glimpse of Esme through the crowds and she met my eyes, but quickly looked away. She didn't look again.
I pulled out my phone and looked at it for a moment. Should I? Shouldn't I? "It WAS real." I typed out and then stood for a long time with my thumb over the send button. Jacob was horsing around and bumped into me, making me nudge the touch screen and send the text. I guessed fate had taken the decision out of my hands yet again. I looked up again but she was gone, the short queue having moved on.
We headed straight for arrivals – the cars were waiting and our bags would be picked up for us. The screaming started as soon as we stepped through the doors. We made our way out slowly, shaking hands and signing papers, t-shirts, and even the occasional body part. They were a good crowd, not too much excessive fanaticism. Edward escaped unmolested, but Jacob got felt up and had to move quickly on. If a strange man walked up to a woman and grabbed her crotch, he'd be arrested for assault, but if a strange woman walked up to a film star and grabbed his crotch, then they thought it was fair game. How twisted was that?
We made it into the car and shut the door, muffling the sound. I sank back into the seat as we pulled away and headed for our hotel. Another, in a seemingly endless round of buildings that could almost have been anywhere. Same shit, different day.
"Right, we've got a few of hours to ourselves, and then we've got our first meeting at four this afternoon," said Carlisle after looking at our itinerary for this visit. At least I'd have time for a shower and change.
A couple of hours later I stepped from the shower feeling clean and much more awake. I wrapped a towel around my waist and rubbed my hair dry. The slight stubble could stay, I had time to grow it for a while before I had to shave it all off again.
"Jazz! Are you decent?" called Emmett, as he burst in anyway.
"No, I'm not! How the hell did you get in?" I accused.
"Umm, can't have been shut properly?" he said contritely.
I leant against the bathroom door frame, conscious that he stood between me and my clothes, and Emmett, being Emmett, would rip the shit out of me if he saw the state of my back.
"So?" I asked impatiently.
"So! We got the fucking contract! We're all signed up for the modelling gig. They want all of us flashing our abs in the latest Calvin Klein's," he said excitedly.
"Great! When?" I asked. Sincerely hoping that the marks on my back would have time to fade.
That's all folks!
Review? Should I carry on?