I know I said that "The Mechanic" was just a one-shot, but I had to give him his chance, to tell his story. And honestly, who doesn't want more dirty, badass convict Edward sex? So I guess this is part deux of my long-standing dirty mechanic fantasy, come to life with a man who is near and dear to all of our hearts.
It's been a while. You may want to go back and read Chapter 1 first, to put you in the right mindset. :)
After this, I'll get back to the next chapter of "Beautiful."
Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)
The Mechanic, chapter 2
I'd been slowly nursing a glass of bourbon for the last hour. I needed to fucking get wasted, but I didn't have the money to buy enough of the good stuff to get me there, and I refused to drink shit booze.
Jake's Bar was a hole in the wall, not far from the garage, and I'd been coming here, almost every night since that night. That fucking rainy night that I couldn't get out of my mind. Her sweet smell. Her soft skin. Her wet heat.
Bella, she said her name was.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing that vision to leave me for a few blessed minutes, and threw back the rest of the bourbon in my glass. Fuck, yeah. The burn going down my throat, warming my chest.
I took a long pull on my cigarette and blew the smoke out of the corner of my mouth. Smoking was the only vice allowed in lockup, and now, I couldn't stop. Disgusting fucking habit.
Everyone left me alone here, which is exactly how I wanted it. Sitting at the very end of the bar, in the dark, hovering over my now-empty glass, and commiserating with myself over my fucked up life.
The jukebox was filled with 90's alternative rock, which was what Jake liked, and he didn't give a fuck what anyone else wanted to listen to. It worked for me, and the pounding music mixed nicely with the slight buzz I had going on. Jake spied my empty glass from across the bar and raised his eyebrows to me, silently asking me if I wanted another. If I said yes, I couldn't eat tonight. It was that simple. So I shook my head, telling him no. Not now, at least. He understood. He'd done time too.
So I just stared at the bottom of my empty glass, and I couldn't help remembering her. I'd fucking jacked off every night since she came into the garage in those wet clothes, thinking about her tits poking through her shirt, begging for my warm mouth. Christ, the look on her face when I ripped that shirt off. I just found another button that morning, and I put it in my pocket. I'd been rolling it around in my fingers all day. It was like some sort of talisman, a physical connection to her or something, letting me know it was real.
Jesus. I really had to fucking stop this. I was never going to see her again. I should have probably just hooked up with that Leah chick that Jake's been pushing on me. He said that she was hot and easy, and that was just what I needed to get my mind straight … a quick, hot fuck.
And another fucking bourbon. Shit.
Just then, the door opened, slowly, almost timidly, if that was even possible, and a tiny figure slipped inside. It was dark at the door, and there were people standing around, so I couldn't see who it was at first.
But then I saw her.
It was her.
In this bar. The same bar as me. The same fucking room as me. I took a deep breath and held it, watching her in the dark as she pushed through the crowd, scared to touch anyone. The people in here weren't exactly her crowd, and I felt immediately protective of her. She finally made it to the bar and sat hesitantly on a stool, trying to get Jake's attention.
Unfortunately, that didn't take long. Jake loved pretty young things, and he was on her like stink on shit. That fucking dog. If he put his paws on her, I'd tear him apart. I glared at him in the dark, willing her to look around and see me, and if I were lucky, to come to me.
She spoke to Jake, softly. I could see her lips moving, but I couldn't hear a word she said. I remembered that voice, how she sounded when she came, when she gave me permission to fuck her. When she said please.
Fuck, my dick was getting hard. My jeans were loose, thank God, so I did a quick adjustment and hoped no one noticed.
When Jake walked away to get her drink, she collapsed on the barstool and shuddered, releasing a long breath. She wiped her hand across her cheek, under her eyes, and it was then that I noticed she was crying.
And that fucking killed me. I had to know what happened. I wanted to fix it. And I wanted to beat the shit out of whatever motherfucker hurt her.
Jake brought her order, three shot glasses of some clear liquid, and I would never have seen that coming. Some fruity drink with an umbrella, something frozen, or maybe one of those pink wines, but not shots. She was too fragile. She wouldn't be able to handle that much alcohol. What the fuck was Jake thinking? If he thought he could get her drunk and take advantage of her, he had some pain coming his way.
She lifted the first glass to her lips and took a deep breath, steeling herself, and then she shot it back. Her face screwed up as the liquor burned down her throat, and she gave a little shake, like she couldn't control it. It was the cutest fucking thing I had ever seen. She waited a few minutes, and then she downed the second one. Then, she just stared off into space, letting the booze do its job.
Her face relaxed, and she had finally stopped crying. She seemed calmer, but I was worried about her, her alcohol tolerance level. And had she driven here? In that fucking truck? No way she could drive home, especially if she did that third shot.
So I just watched. And waited. Hoping for a moment, an opening. Wondering if I should talk to her or just leave her the hell alone. I couldn't be anything good for her, and she was better off without me.
The crowd moved a little, and I could finally see her better. She looked amazing, fucking hot. I personally and intimately knew that there was a tiger buried underneath that timid exterior, and I hoped that I was the only motherfucker in this place that did. She was wearing a shirt and skirt thing, kind of a "hot librarian" look. Tight, slim, black skirt, stopping just above her knees. White, button-down shirt, way too fucking tight for the assholes in here. They were all eyeing her like a piece of meat, drooling as they circled around her, waiting for their opportunity to strike. And black high-heeled shoes that made her legs look a mile long. Fuck, I wanted those legs wrapped around me, shoes still on, while I fucked her until she screamed. And this time, I wanted to hear her scream my namewhen she came.
Jesus, this time.
I was glued to my fucking seat, torn, trying to decide what to do. To talk to her, or leave her alone. But then she started to wobble a little, and I could tell that the alcohol was hitting her, and my decision was made for me. I jumped out of my seat and slipped up behind her, gently holding her upper arms to keep her from falling over. I buried my face in her hair because it was right there, smelling her sweet scent, wanting nothing more than to lick her neck, push up that skirt, and fuck her right here, over the bar.
Instead, I pushed the animal down and rubbed her arms softly, whispering in her ear.
"Bella," I said.
She must have been surprised to hear her name, and she turned in her seat, too quickly, and immediately wobbled again, the quick motion making her dizzy. She really was a fragile, delicate little creature. I kept my hands on her arms, keeping her upright, and once she had turned, she was right in front of me, only inches from my mouth.
She looked at me for several seconds, looking first at my hands on her arms, then at my chest, which was practically eye level for her, then up to my neck, and my face. She looked stunned for a second, then recognition flashed in her eyes.
"E-Edward?" she stuttered.
I grinned back at her. It thrilled me that she remembered my name, that she remembered me. This girl had something, a piece of me. She made me smile. Yeah, she made me wanna fuck her, but there was something else there too.
"Yeah," I said, my fingers stroking her arms slowly as we spoke. "What are you doing here, Bella?"
I didn't want her to think that I wanted her to leave. I just needed to know how she ended up here, and what had upset her.
"I," she started, then cleared her throat a little. Her eyes were wide and deep and beautifully brown. She was biting on that bottom lip again, and it made my dick twitch. Goddamn, I wanted this woman. "I was driving home from work, and..."
She sighed heavily. I knew that she had to drive past the garage on her way home, so it only made sense that she would pass the bar. It never really occurred to me before, but now that I knew it, I would be watching for her truck every night. That was probably not a good thing.
"And?" I prodded gently.
"And, I got a phone call." She sighed again, her expression growing darker. "From my dad. Back home." She looked down at the ground, biting that lip again. Fuck, I wanted to bite it for her.
"Bad news?" I asked.
"No," she replied hesitantly. "Just Dad, being... Dad."
"He pissed you off," I stated. "He made you cry."
"I'm... I'm fine," she said. "It's nothing. It happens all the time. I'm used to it."
"So, you came here?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah," she said. "I've seen the sign before, but I've never come in. But, I hung up on my dad, and then the bar was right in front of me, and I really needed a drink. End of story."
She straightened up a little, trying to show me that she was tough, independent. I knew better.
"Okay," I said, grinning at her, hoping I could get a small smile back. "But you're knocking those shots back pretty quickly. Did you eat tonight? You're too tiny to drink that much."
I stepped to her side, leaning one arm on the bar, the other protectively around her, still rubbing on her arm.
She started to answer me, and Jake walked over, showing off his mouth full of sharp, white teeth, his ridiculously tight white t-shirt.
"Ready for another round, little lady?" He scooped up the two empty shot glasses and produced two clean ones. He started to pour into the first empty glass, but I put my hand over the glass, stopping him.
"Back off, Jake," I growled at him. "She's still got one more, and that's one too many."
Bella just glared at me, her mouth dropped open, surprised that I would speak for her, and all I could think of was sticking something in there for her to suck. She twisted away from me, turning back to smile at Jake, and downed the third shot quickly. Fuck.
She turned back and looked at me smugly, like it was an argument she had won, like she had just proved to me that she was right about something. No fucking way she was driving now.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" She growled at me, slurring slightly. "If I want another drink, I'm gonna have another drink!" She was trying so hard to be tough, but it just didn't fly with her. All I wanted to do was touch her. And kiss her. And lick her. And fuck her. Damn, I definitely wanted to fuck her again.
"Bella," I said gently, working out a quick plan in my head. "Let me buy you a drink, okay? I'll get Jake to make it up special. It's my own recipe." I only had twenty bucks to my name, and between the bourbon and these drinks, I would be broke. So much for dinner. So I winked at her, letting her think she was getting her way, and she nodded confidently.
I leaned over the bar and called Jake over. I talked softly so that only he could hear.
"Mix up a drink for me. Some Sprite, some fruit juice, some cherries, and pineapple. And a fucking umbrella or something. Make it look good. But no fucking booze, got it?"
Jake tightened his jaw, realizing that I was claiming her, and he knew me well enough to know to stay away. Yeah, he was physically bigger than me, but I was a scrappy son of a bitch, and I fought dirty, which he knew first-hand. He nodded to me and started mixing up a pretty virgin drink for Bella. When he was done, he handed it to me, and it was ridiculous looking, layers of color, several pieces of fruit. No umbrellas, but a colored swizzle stick speared through a cherry on top. I handed it to her, but didn't let go until I said my piece.
"Here you go, beautiful. Careful with this, now. Sip it slowly. It's like a Long Island Iced Tea. Tastes real good. Goes down easy. Then it sneaks up and kicks your ass." I winked at her again, and she finally gave me back a small smile and that delicious fresh, pink blush. As she took the drink out of my hand, I swiped my thumb across her skin a couple of times, just to feel that connection to her again.
She lifted the drink to her lips, keeping her eyes locked on mine, and took a tiny, tentative sip. Then she smiled at me. A real smile.
"Good?" I asked.
"Mmm hmm," she replied, taking a second, larger sip. That sound, that small moan of pleasure for the drink in her hand, went straight to my cock, remembering how she moaned for me when I had my fingers between her legs.
"Remember. Drink it slowly," I warned with the most serious expression I could muster. Hopefully, I could get a couple of these down her and dilute what she had already consumed. Some food wouldn't hurt, either, if I could figure out a way to manage it.
She nodded and chuckled softly, looking down at her feet, then back up at me through her long eyelashes. Jesus, that killed me when she did that. Really fucking slayed me.
"So, how's your truck? Running okay?" I had to talk to her, get her to talk to me, see how drunk she was. And truthfully, I just wanted to hear her voice, see her lips move.
She took another big gulp and nodded enthusiastically. She ran her tongue slowly across her lips, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from that little bit of pink and wet. I was so fucking hard by now, she had to have noticed.
"It's great, running great, no problems." Another sip. The drink was halfway gone. "So what's this called? It's really good. And thanks again... " she said and then paused, blushing furiously all of a sudden, the warm red creeping up her neck and covering her cheeks. "For the t-truck, I mean," she offered quickly, stumbling over her words. I fucking hoped it was because she was remembering, too.
She was kind of all over the map, but I was loving every second of it.
"No name, really," I said, talking about the drink. "It's just something I came up with." She was down to ice and fruit only now. "Want another?"
"Oh, no, I couldn't," she hedged, sucking on a tiny piece of ice. Fuck me.
I gestured to Jake and held up two fingers. One for each of us. I took the empty out of her hands as I handed her a fresh one. She plucked the swizzle stick out first and slid the cherry into her mouth, grabbing it with her teeth. I almost came, right then and there. What I wanted to do with that fucking mouth, that pink tongue.
I grabbed the frilly plastic end of the swizzle stick in my glass and held it up, looking at the bright red cherry speared across the end. I twirled it in my hand, noticing that Bella was watching it intently, mesmerized. The music was pounding, urging me on, forcing my body into a hypnotized rhythm. My cock was throbbing, and I wanted to fuck something, and soon. I lifted the cherry towards Bella and watched as her mouth started to open, just slightly, her lips plump and pink and wet. I brought the cherry to her lips, offering her a taste, watching as her tongue slipped out and ran across the fruit. I pulled it away then, teasing her, and waited.
"You want this?" I whispered, twirling the cherry on the stick.
She nodded her assent.
"I want to hear it, Bella. Hear the words. Tell me you want it," I growled. It was the same thing I told her that night, begging for her permission, needing to hear it, out loud.
"I want it," she said softly.
"Again. Tell me again." I was pushing it, but I needed to hear her say it, to know that it was real, that it all happened. I twirled the cherry, eyebrow cocked, waiting. And then she said it.
"I want it... please."
It sounded so fucking sexy, her sweet voice saying please, begging me for a taste. Fuck, I didn't even know what we were talking about anymore.
I brought the stick to her mouth again, resting the cherry lightly on her lips. She bit it, gently, pulling it off the stick with her teeth, and God help me, softly sucked it between her lips. She popped the cherry into her mouth, and it was gone. Her eyes never left mine the entire time.
We talked for a little while, sipping on our drinks. Not about anything in particular, just whatever came to mind. She was very easy to talk to, and apparently, very intelligent and well-read. She loved books, and when she told me that she was currently managing a little bookstore on the other side of town, the hot librarian look suddenly clicked into place. All I could think of was her in the stacks, perched on a ladder, reaching up to shelve books. She was wearing that same skirt and blouse, and the skirt was riding up her bare thighs. Jesus.
When she got to the ice at the bottom of her second non-alcoholic drink, I thought it was a good time to try to get her out of here. Everyone had pretty much left her alone after I moved in, since I had pissed on her leg and marked her as mine.
"Let me drive you home. In your truck." My voice was low and thick, and I wanted her so fucking bad I could taste it. Fuck that, I wanted to taste her. "You can't drive after all those drinks." I grinned at her, wanting to tease her a little, knowing that if she thought I was being controlling, which I assumed was the problem with her asshole of a father, that she would shut me down. She gave me a little shy smile, and I assumed I was on the right track, so I stood up and reached for her hand. She put her tiny, warm hand in mine, and I rubbed my thumb across her knuckles, softly, then nodded to the door, pulling her behind me.
"C'mon. Let's go."
She turned over the keys to me easily, no argument, which was somewhat surprising. I had already used up all of my good guy lines for the night. All that was left was the guy who had just gotten out of jail, for the second time, and had only gotten fucked once. I was hoping to fix that in the very near future.
We drove in silence for about twenty minutes, the tension and heat in the car building the closer we got to her house. When we finally pulled in the driveway, I was about ready to explode.
It was a tiny little wooden house, with a front porch just large enough for two lawn chairs. I could suddenly picture her curled up there, reading a book, drinking an iced tea or something. Jesus, what the fuck was happening to me?
I walked up the steps behind her as she unlocked the door. I stood nervously in the doorway, wondering if I should go in or not. I really didn't want to fuck this up.
She turned and looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed.
"You coming in?" she asked, so fucking sweet and innocent, but she was smoking hot in that tight skirt and heels.
I lingered at the door, looking down at my shoes, my beat up black workboots that Sam had so graciously given me when he gave me the job.
"Maybe I shouldn't, Bella," I said hesitantly, looking back up at her, meeting her intense gaze. "You were drinking tonight. I don't want to..."
She walked up to me and placed her hand on my arm, connecting us again.
"Don't want to what?" she whispered. She was standing so closely to me that I could smell her hair again, feel the heat rolling off of her body. I was fucking rock hard again in an instant. How could I tell her this, standing at the door? Tell her that I didn't want to regret fucking her because she was drunk? That I wanted us both to be in complete control of our decisions. I'd been there. I wasn't doing it again. That shit was fucked up.
"I don't want to... " I sighed, and paused, hoping I didn't sound like a fucking pussy. "... to take advantage of you. I won't do that shit."
She smiled and blushed again, hopefully imagining what I wanted to do to her, but couldn't. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into her house, shutting the door behind me.
"Just come in. Sit. Talk." She bit on her lip again and took a deep breath. She looked up at me and looked away. "I don't want you to leave yet." She spoke so softly I could hardly hear her, but I heard enough.
So I sat down on the far end of the couch, and she smiled and quickly turned away from me.
"Want something to drink? Water? Coke? Um, a beer? I think I have a few left, but I'm not sure what kind you like, if they're any good, or - "
I stopped her there.
"Water's fine." I said softly, and she disappeared into the kitchen.
She returned quickly with two bottles of water and handed one to me. She opened hers and swallowed down almost half of it, and I couldn't stop looking at her lips wrapped around the edge of the bottle, her throat as she swallowed. Everything about this woman made me fucking hard.
"Um, I'll be right back, okay?" she said, over her shoulder to me as she walked down the hall and out of my sight.
I took a minute to look around her comfortable little living room, books covering the shelves, happy photographs on the walls, various odd items here and there. The hardwood floors were a warm oak color and covered with a thick, but old-looking, rug. There was a quilt hanging off the back of the couch. It looked lived-in. It looked happy. I felt strangely at home here.
She walked back into the room and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, her legs curled up under her. And she had changed into flannel pajamas... covered with pink pigs and fluffy pink slippers on her feet. I didn't know whether to laugh or hump her. There was something sexy about what she was wearing, about those little pigs. Damn. Maybe it was just her.
"Nice," I said with a smirk. "Hot."
"Yes!" she exclaimed excitedly. "They are kinda hot sometimes, but I love flannel. I'm always cold and these just -"
"Bella," I interrupted her with a smirk. "Not that kind of hot."
She just looked at me, a little confused, trying to figure out what I was talking about. I dragged my hand through my hair, an old nervous habit.
"They're fucking sexy Bella. Sexy and hot. Like," I paused, wondering if I should continue or get the fuck out of there. "Like so fucking hot that I want to rip them off of you and watch the buttons scatter."
She was staring at me as the red creeped up her neck, and she wrapped her arms around her body.
"Oh." She exhaled a big breath and looked down at her lap. "Oh."
That last oh had a moan-like quality to it, and I took that to be a good sign. So I scooted closer, sitting in the middle of the couch, right next to her. I looked in her beautiful brown eyes as I let my hand drift down to her thigh, drawing outlines of the flannel pigs lightly on her leg.
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her and fuck her and lick her and make her scream. But not tonight. Not when she's had three shots of 151. But, I could still kiss her, right?
So I leaned over, keeping my eyes on hers, my other hand cupping her cheek, and I pressed my lips to hers, softly, gently. I pulled back and looked at her face, looking for some sign that I should stop, leave right then, get out before I got myself in trouble. But then she put her hand on the back of my neck, her fingers sliding into my hair, and she pulled me back towards her. Fuck it, I wanted her.
I kissed her hard, passionately, my tongue plunging into her mouth, warm and wet and sweet. I buried my hand in her hair, keeping her face pressed against my own. I slid the hand that was on her thigh up the side of her body, stroking her arm, running tiny circle patterns all over the soft, warm fabric, aching to feel her skin. When I reached the side of her breast, she gasped a little in my mouth, which was the hottest fucking sound, and I jerked forward, pushing her body down on the couch, covering her, and grabbing and squeezing her tit. She moaned louder, and the more I squeezed, the louder she moaned. I found her hard little nipple in the weight of all that fabric, rolling it in my fingers, pinching and squeezing, and I pushed her legs open with my own so that I could lay right between them. I rubbed my hard cock between her legs, and pulled her head back, kissing her jaw, her ear, her neck.
I started to reach between her legs, needing to feel her heat, and I suddenly realized that I needed to stop. That I had gone too far, gotten carried away, and I refused to let that happen to me again. It killed me, but I pushed myself up off of her, panting, my cock hard and throbbing, aching for relief.
"We have to stop, Bella," I moaned. She looked at me curiously, her lips red and swollen, her hair wild and disheveled.
"No, Edward, why? It's not like we haven't..." she whispered and tried to pull me back to her, but I resisted.
"I know, but you had a lot to drink tonight, and... well, I just can't. Not like this."
After a moment or two, she seemed to accept what I was saying, and she sighed and sat up next to me, our thighs touching on the couch. She reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of my face. It was a sweet gesture.
"Tell me, Edward," she urged. "Tell me why this bothers you so much." Her hand lingered on my cheek, brushing against my jaw, across my lip. That was fucking dangerous. I wanted to suck her fingers into my mouth, run my tongue between them, make her shudder and moan. Fuck. Instead, I pushed her hand away, gently.
"It's an ugly story, Bella," I said with a grimace. "I've had an ugly fucking life, and I don't want to drag you down into that."
"Please, Edward," she begged with that tiny, sweet voice. "Tell me. I want to know. I want to know you. All of you."
I sighed again, and ran my fingers through my hair. Why was this so fucking hard? Why did I fucking care what she thought?
"When I was in high school, senior year, I went to a party and hooked up with this girl," I said with a sigh, my eyes flickering from my lap to her face, back and forth. "I knew her, kind of, but we didn't have the same friends or anything. She was at the party, I figured she was my age. I was nineteen." She sat and listened quietly. She didn't make any faces or noises to discourage me, so I kept going. "I was drunk off my ass, and so was she. I took her upstairs and I fu- … I … we had sex. And that was it. Until the next day, when the fucking cops showed up at my door and arrested me ... for rape. Handcuffed me, dragged me out of my house, and threw me in the back of the cop car. Fucking rape." I took a deep breath and met her eyes. "Jesus, Bella, I would never fucking do that to a woman."
She made a soothing noise and stroked my face, encouraging me to continue. I pulled at my hair again in frustration. The worst of it was out there, on the table I suppose, and she hadn't run yet. "Her dad was some kind of hot shot judge or something, and he said... fuck, he said that I got her drunk and took advantage of her, that his little girl would never do something like that on her own. There was no evidence, and the girl was seventeen, legal age, so he couldn't even get me on statutory rape. The charges were eventually dropped for lack of evidence or some shit, but I was just glad it went away. You get convicted of a sex crime, and you're labeled the rest of your life. And sex offenders in prison? Fuck, man, forget it. That's the worst." I rubbed her leg again, reassured by the heat of her skin coming through the thick flannel.
"So that's it. That's the big story. That's why I need to hear you say yes. That's why I can't touch you anymore tonight, even though I really fucking want to. Because I'm not that guy."
"Edward, I would never -" she started, aghast.
"I know, Bella," I said, more angrily than I meant to. "I know you wouldn't. But it's me. It's just something I have to do."
We sat in silence for a while, each of us absorbing what had just been said. I had to give it to her, she had just heard that I was accused of rape - wrongly, I might add - but she didn't seem flustered at all. She seemed to completely understand the situation. It was like she trusted me or something. God only knows why. She barely knew me.
We talked for a while, again, about nothing. Books, work, the weather, whatever shit popped into our heads. My dick stayed hard the entire time, but I was determined not to fuck it up, so I kept my distance, my zipper up, and my hands to myself.
"Uh, okay," I said with a quick glance at her beautiful face. "I guess I should go now." I stood up and adjusted my pants, anxiously needing to touch myself, to get some relief, but that would have to wait until later. She stood up next to me and rubbed her hands slowly up and down her thighs. Fuck, that was hot too. Every fucking thing she did was hot.
"How are you going to get home? Want me to drive you?" she asked, walking slowly towards the door.
"No, you can't drive, Bella, remember?" Sweet, innocent girl. "I'll get a ride, don't worry about me." I grinned and stroked my finger across the warm skin of her cheek. She immediately turned pink again.
We stood at the door for a minute, an uncomfortable silence growing between us, until I couldn't take it anymore.
"This is fucking ridiculous," I mumbled, and I grabbed her waist and pulled her to me. I looked down at her and slowly pressed my mouth to hers, waiting for her lips to open to me, and I slid my tongue inside again. I fucking couldn't get enough of the way she tasted. When I realized that my hand was on her tit again, I knew it was time to leave, and I pulled away, both of us gasping.
I turned away from her and reached for the doorknob, pulling the door open so that I could make a quick exit.
"Wait!" Bella squealed suddenly and ran into the kitchen. She was back out immediately, and she shoved a folded piece of paper into my hand. "That's my phone number," she said breathlessly. "Call me sometime... when we're both sober." She smiled and looked down at the ground shyly, her cheeks flaming pink, then she raised her eyes and looked at me through her lashes again, and I almost caved. Almost.
But I knew it was time to leave. So I did.
"Later, Bella," I said, smiling back at her, and I walked out the door.
I hitched back to the garage and slipped into my tiny room in the back of the empty building. Sam had put me up there until I got back on my feet. It wasn't much, but I had a cot, a TV, and a bathroom, and I had a hot plate to heat up shit to eat and a small refrigerator to keep beer.
I laid on the thin cot and pulled out the piece of paper she had given me. I had looked at it a thousand times on the ride home, wondering what I would ever have to say to this girl. Why she wanted me, fucking mess that I was.
I pulled out my phone, the only luxury I allowed myself, and I punched in her number, storing it in my contacts. I sent her a quick text, so that she would have my number too. I wanted her to fucking think about me before she went to sleep. I wanted her to be as obsessed as I was.
Sweet dreams, beautiful Bella.
I put the phone down on the milk crate that served as my bedside table and reached to flip off the single bulb light. As I did, I heard my phone chirp. Incoming message. No fucking way. But it had to be her. I didn't know anyone else.
Way ahead of you Edward. :) Goodnight. -B
What the fuck did that mean? Was she having good dreams? Of me? Was she thinking of me? Why else would she tell me she was having good dreams, and why the fuck did she add a fucking smiley face?
I immediately launched into a filthy fantasy with Bella in her bed, completely naked, her hands buried between her spread legs, getting herself off while she fantasized about me, and I came way too fast and way too hard.
The next night, I sat in my usual spot at Jake's, partly because I had nothing better to do, but also because I was hoping that she might stop by again. I was fucking pathetic.
I knew from our conversations that the bookstore closed at six, and it was only a ten-minute drive to the bar, so at seven o'clock, I figured I had missed my chance, that she wasn't coming.
At seven thirty, I paid my tab and started getting ready to leave, when my phone chirped with an incoming message.
R u at the bar? Workd late. Ugh. -B
I love how she felt the need to sign her messages to me, as if I wouldn't know who she was. But who gave a fuck, she had texted me, and I was walking on fucking air. I wrote her a quick reply, just in case she was driving by. I didn't want to miss her.
Yep. U coming?
Coming? Jesus, was that a fucking loaded question. I hoped she wasn't coming yet, because I wanted to fucking see it, and hear it, and if I was a lucky motherfucker, I wanted to fucking taste it.
It seemed to take forever for her to respond, and when she finally did, I jumped, almost dropping the phone. I wanted her so fucking much. I had to be careful that I didn't push too hard, too soon.
I laughed at her reply and sent her one back, quickly.
No. Not enuf $ for Jakes secret stash. U?
She replied immediately.
I was at work! No, not drunk. Driving!
Driving? Maybe on her way here?
So we r both not drunk, right?
I was trying to get a not-so-subtle message across, and I hoped she was getting it.
Okay. What the fuck did that wink mean? Did she know what I was trying to do and was telling me she was on to me? Or was she just letting me know that she understood what I was trying to say... that if we were both sober, we could get together? Should I just fucking come out and say it? I didn't want to scare her. Fuck, this shit was hard. And so was my fucking dick. Again. Just from fucking text messages.
I decided to keep it vague, let her lead.
I waited, nervously tapping my fingers on the scarred wooden bar rail.
Be there in 10.
Oh fuck, yeah. She was on her way here. It was on. It was fucking on. I kept it simple again. Vague. Non-committal.
I'll be here.
So I sat there, willing myself not to look at the clock, but that motherfucker was ticking away slowly, and I started to get nervous.
Shit, did she change her mind?
Finally, twenty-five minutes after her last text, the door opened slowly, and I just knew it was her. She walked in and looked around, but not seeing me hidden in the dark corner, she walked up to the bar and perched on a stool.
I wasted no time and snuck up behind her, slipping my hands around her waist, my mouth at her ear.
"Hey, beautiful," I whispered.
She jumped, almost as if she didn't expect me, and she turned in her seat until we were face to face. She smiled and sighed.
"Hey," she whispered back.
I took a minute to look her up and down. She was in a completely different outfit today... a tight blue t-shirt and a colorful, long, flowing skirt with flat sandals on her feet. As fucking hot as that outfit was the day before, this one seemed to fit her a little more, seemed more her.
"What are you drinking?" she asked, gesturing to my empty glass on the bar.
"Water," I replied quickly. I wanted her to know that I was completely fucking sober and that I intended to stay that way.
She smiled and blushed and looked down at her hands, in her lap.
"Good," she said softly. She was glad I was straight, and maybe she wanted to be straight tonight too.
We talked for a bit, complete nonsense, but my hands never left her. I had one hand on her waist or her hip, keeping a connection between us, telling all the other motherfuckers in that bar that she was mine, and my other hand was on her arm, or her hand, or her thigh, or her face. Just touching her. Letting her know, silently, how much I fucking wanted her.
At some point, I stepped a little closer, pushing her legs open and standing between them, right up against her. The long skirt kept her completely covered, but I needed to be as close to her as possible. I looked into her eyes and slowly leaned down until my lips were touching hers. She immediately opened her mouth to me, and I felt her tongue slip between my lips before I even had a chance to make a move. Fuck, that went straight to my cock, and I moaned in her mouth, meeting her tongue with mine and rubbing my body against hers.
We kissed like that for a while, slowly, open-mouthed, grinding on each other, until Jake had to make a fucking comment.
"Get a fucking room, Cullen," he barked at me, looking around the bar to see who would laugh at his tired joke.
I looked up at him, barely moving my mouth off of Bella's, and replied.
"Mind your own fucking business, Black."
But he was right. I couldn't do this in a fucking bar in front of these fucking losers. I mean, I could, and I had, but not with Bella. I was too protective of her already. I needed to get her out of here, somewhere private, so we could be alone. So I could fucking touch her and make her come, make her scream my name.
I moved my mouth to her ear, kissing and licking along the way, and she moaned softly, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Let's get out of here," I whispered in her ear, then pulled back to see her reaction.
She nodded immediately and grabbed her purse from the bar. I held her hands as she hopped off the stool, and then pulled her behind me towards the door. Once we were outside, I found her truck immediately. It was easy to spot. I opened the driver's door for her, and once she was seated, I leaned in the open door, shoving my tongue down her throat and letting my hands wander a little. I pulled away and prayed that she would invite me back to her house.
"My place?" she asked, her voice rough and low.
"Yeah," I replied with a small smile, walking quickly around the truck until I was sitting in the passenger seat next to her. "Let's go."
She started up the truck, and it purred like a kitten. I did good fucking work.
We rode in complete silence, both knowing exactly what would happen as soon as we got to her house.
I couldn't stand it any longer, and I slid over next to her on the wide bench seat. I put my arm around the back of the seat and leaned down, bringing my mouth to her neck. She immediately groaned, and I fucking loved the sounds that she made. I was licking and sucking on the tender skin of her neck as she drove, whispering in her ear, telling her how good she tasted, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted to fuck her again. My hand was on her knee, covered by her long skirt, and I slid upwards until I was right between her legs. I stroked softly over the fabric of her skirt and her panties, rubbing my entire hand in small, firm circles as she squirmed beneath me.
"Edward, oh God, please..." she groaned. "I can't... oh fuck... I'm trying to..."
"Are you wet, Bella?" I groaned in her neck. "Is that pussy wet for me again, hmm?"
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she replied.
"You gonna let me taste that pussy, Bella?" I asked, kissing her neck with tongue and lips and teeth. "I'm gonna spread you wide, baby, and lick you till you scream," I teased in her ear. "You gonna scream for me? Scream my name when you come?" I started to pull her skirt up, bunching it up in my fist, until my hand was touching bare skin. Then, I wasted no time, and I slid my hand up her thigh until it was between her legs. I quickly slipped my hand inside her panties and buried my fingers in warm and wet. She clamped her thighs around my hand and swerved on the empty road before straightening the truck out.
"Oh shit," she muttered. "Oh God, oh..."
"Baby," I moaned in her ear, my tongue slipping inside and out, then biting her lobe. "You're so fucking wet. You feel so fucking good, Bella." My fingers were moving around gently, up and down between her legs, but they were slick and covered in her wetness. I couldn't resist any longer, and I pulled my hand out and brought it to my mouth. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes, watching what I was doing, and groaned loudly.
"Oh fuck, Bella. Tell me we're almost there, baby," I begged desperately. "Tell me, because you taste so fucking good. If we're not there in two minutes, I'm gonna bury my face between those sweet thighs right here in your truck."
Less than sixty seconds later, she pulled into her driveway, and I was out of her truck and on the front porch before she could even turn off the engine. I stood behind her as she put the key in the lock, my hands on her waist, moving up her body, my mouth hungry on her neck. When the door opened, I pushed her inside, turning her so that she was walking backwards, and I kicked the door closed with my foot.
I pushed her back on the couch. She landed in a sitting position, and I was down on my knees in front of her in seconds. I kissed her hard, my hands on her thighs, pushing up her skirt.
"I can't wait another fucking second," I said. "Tell me yes. Tell me you want me. Tell me right fucking now." I had to hear it. Years later, and I still had to hear it.
"Yes, Edward," she whispered. "Yes, I want you."
I pushed her skirt up to her waist and hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down until they were completely off and on the floor next to me. Then, I grabbed her ankles, placing them on the couch on either side of her, and pushed her thighs open, wide. There she was, spread before me, pink and wet and all mine.
I wasted no time, and I buried my mouth between her legs.
She screamed and buried her fingers in my hair, pulling so tightly that it fucking hurt. But I liked it when it hurt.
Jesus, she tasted incredible. And she was so fucking wet, and it was all for me. I wanted to go slow, to tease her, take my time and bring her to the edge and back several times, but I just couldn't. I had absolutely no self-control, and I sucked on her clit, hard, rubbing it with my tongue as I slipped a finger inside her. I wanted to tell her to come for me, but I couldn't stop long enough to speak, and I increased my pace until I heard her breathing change. She was close, and I wanted it. I wanted her to come all over my face.
I slid my tongue inside her, moving against my fingers, and rubbed her clit with my thumb, pressing down hard.
"Oh, fuck!" she screamed as she clenched tightly around my fingers, pulling my hair until I was moaning and screaming along with her. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming," she panted, her head whipping back and forth as her hips pumped into my face. "Oh God, Edward."
Yeah, there it was. My name. She fucking said it.
When she finally calmed, I slipped my finger out from inside her and sucked it into my mouth, unable to get enough of her sweet taste. I wiped my face on my forearm, then I kissed her hard and quick. I needed to fuck her, but I would wait until she was a little more coherent. Not long, though.
"Bella, baby," I whispered desperately in her ear. "Please... please, I need you so badly." My cock was throbbing painfully in my pants and if I didn't get some relief soon, I was going to explode.
I pulled back and looked in her eyes, waiting for her to give me some signal that she was okay, and she blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath, and then she gave me a little smile.
I turned her on the couch and pushed gently on her chest until she was flat on her back. Kneeling between her legs, I fumbled with my zipper until I had freed my aching cock. I sat back on my heels, slowly stroking myself while I looked down at her, splayed out in front of me, thighs spread, wet and ready for me. She was still completely clothed, with the exception of her panties, but I had never been more turned on in my life. Her cheeks still held the blush of the orgasm I had just given her, and as anxious as I was for my own release, I wanted to make her come again just to hear the sounds that she made, maybe hear my name again.
Jesus, she was beautiful.
I leaned over her, one hand on the couch and the other on my cock, and I kissed her, moving slowly from her mouth to her jaw to her neck, and then back again. I rubbed my dick between her legs until it was slick and shiny and I thought I might explode. I pushed my way in, and she took a deep, gasping breath, holding it until my body was flush with hers, and I started to move.
"Oh God, Edward," she groaned my name again, long and low. She lifted her hips up off the couch, meeting my slow, deep thrusts, and I couldn't imagine that anything could ever feel better than this.
"You feel so fucking good, baby," I said into her neck. "So warm. So wet. So fucking tight. Jesus."
I wanted to take my time, go slowly and make it last, but there was no fucking way. I had just put my dick inside her, and I was about to come already. I was barely moving, trying to hold off, but it was no use. She lifted her hips one last time, squeezing my cock like a vise, and I fucking exploded.
"Oh, hell... I'm gonna... fuck!" I whispered as I came, conditioned from hundreds of silent self-induced orgasms in prison. I collapsed on top of her, sweaty and gasping for air, and I realized, once I had finally regained consciousness, that she was stroking my back, murmuring sweet sounds in my ear. I pulled back, just enough so that I could see her eyes. I wanted to apologize for coming so fast, like a fucking pussy.
She pressed her fingers across my mouth, silencing me, and her touch felt so good that I forgot what I was saying and slid my tongue out, tasting her skin. Her eyes grew large, watching me, and as I sucked her fingers into my mouth, I felt my dick come back to life inside her.
Round two. Or three.
I sat back on my heels again and grabbed her hips firmly in my hands, pulling her up so that I could fuck her even deeper, and she gasped and arched her back. Jesus, what a sight. I ran my hands under her shirt, pushing it up so that I could feel her tits, skin on skin. Her nipples were hard, and I squeezed them sharply between my fingers, groaning as she flinched and tightened her pussy around me.
"Oh fuck, yeah, Bella," I growled, deep in my throat, and I kept one hand on her breast, the other sliding down between her legs. When my finger touched her swollen clit, she screamed and jerked again, lifting up in the air and pounding her hips into mine. "I want to make you come again, baby." I panted. "I want to feel you come while I'm fucking you."
Her eyes rolled back, and she moaned at my dirty words, her breathing growing deeper and faster as I stroked between her legs. I grabbed her hip tightly again, pulling her towards me with each thrust, my fingers rubbing circles around her clit. She was close, and I fucking wanted it.
"Come on baby," I begged, pounding my hips against hers. "Come on... come for me, goddamn it." She was fucking whimpering, like she was holding on, refusing to give in. Fuck that, I thought, she was going to come, and she was going to come right fucking now. I pressed in deep and circled my hips, then pressed hard on her clit, holding it down as I felt her start to tighten around me. She was eerily silent for several seconds, then her entire upper body lifted off of the couch, and she screamed. I could feel her, wave after wave after wave, squeezing my dick until I couldn't take it anymore, and I came again, roaring loudly this time in her quiet little house.
I was exhausted, fucking drained, and once I was able to breathe again, I collapsed next to her on the couch and pulled her into my arms. I pressed my lips to her hair, trailing my fingertips lightly up and down her arm, still just needing to touch.
"Jesus, Bella," I whispered in the dark. I wanted to say something else, something prophetic and romantic and utterly cool, but I was fucking speechless. I wanted to say thank you, but there was no way to do that without sounding desperate and pathetic.
Then, she turned in my arms so that she was facing me, and she softly stroked the scruff of my jaw, pressing her lips tenderly to mine.
"Thank you, Edward," she whispered.
I stared at her for several seconds, not believing she just said that to me, the exact same thing I wanted to say to her but couldn't, and I started laughing. Like really fucking loudly.
Her eyebrows furrowed immediately, and she started to pout, obviously pissed off at me for reacting to her heartfelt gratitude like a dick.
"No, Bella, shit," I chuckled. "I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to laugh, it's just..."
Her expression didn't change. She was still pissed and waiting for an explanation.
"What, Edward?" She huffed. "What's so fucking funny?"
Hearing Bella curse just made me want to laugh more, but I was already in enough shit as it was. I reached up to stroke her face, and she flinched away from me. I kept my hand in the air, slowly moving towards her, until finally, she let me touch her again. I rubbed my thumb on the soft skin of her cheek.
"Bella... I was thinking the exact same thing. I wanted to thank you for fucking me, but I couldn't figure out how to do it without sounding like a dick. That was, Jesus, that was fucking amazing, baby." I slid my fingers to the back of her neck and pulled her to me, kissing her slowly, sweetly.
She moaned softly, then pulled back to look at me, the corners of her mouth turning up in a cocky smirk.
"Okay... how about this? 'Thank you for fucking me. That was fucking amazing, baby. Thank you, Bella.'"
I chuckled at her quick wit, at how she turned my own filthy words back on me, making them sound so much fucking sweeter coming out of her mouth, and I pressed my lips to her hair. This girl was inside me, and I was determined to keep her.
She laid her head back on my chest, her fingers in my hair, and looked up at me, her big brown eyes full of some unnamed emotion.
"I meant it, Edward," she whispered shyly. "That was amazing. Thank you."
I sighed softly and smiled back at her this time, an honest, genuine smile. I wanted her to know that, not only did I appreciate her words, but that I felt exactly the same way.
"Anytime, sweet girl. Anytime."
That's it for these two, at least for now. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Next up, another chapter of "Beautiful" - the business trip. ;)
"The Mechanic" - the original chapter 1 - was chosen as the "Single Serving of the Week" on The Lemonade Stand's Lemon Drops, back in May. Hope my adding a second chapter doesn't ruin my one-shot status! Go to "tehlemonadestand" to check it out. (Thanks Edmazing!)
At the end of July, I'll be posting my F4NKH story, "Meadowood," which is a kinda Jane-Austen-meets-Twilight story, so be on the lookout for that. :)
Thanks, as always, to my best friend and beta, LibbyLou862, for correcting all my mistakes, my tense errors, and especially for having that keen visual sense to picture all of the action and make sure it flows!
(PS - I was half inspired while writing this chapter after watching/listening to the leaked sex scene from Cosmopolis starring our boy. And Oh. My. God. The sounds... the sounds! Go listen, if you haven't already.)