Chapter 29 - On Golden Blonde

EPOV

I'm lying on her bed, essence of Bella assaulting my senses, wafting up from her damp skin. I lick my lips as I watch her fingers curling around the wooden ruler, the sound of it slapping against her flesh sparking something I'm trying to hide.

I swallow.

Hard.

"Let me get this straight. You want to measure my dick?" I let a smirk wash over my lips. It isn't the first time it's been measured, though I imagine everything will feel like the first time with this girl.

"Yes." Her grin is big. She's enjoying this.

I lay back with my hands beneath my head, our mutual smugness amusing me. "You want to take my cock out of my shorts, rub it until I'm good and hard, then measure it to see whether or not I'm lying?"

Her grin slips a little. She still manages to nod.

"Then what?" I can't resist thrusting my hips a little.

"Erm …" Her forehead creases, adorable frown lines etching into her skin. I want to trace them with my tongue. "... I don't know."

I know. I definitely know.

I'm almost certain once I feel her fingers wrap around my cock, I'm not going to want her to let go.

"What do you usually do with a foot long Meat Feast?" I bite my lip trying not to laugh. Expressions flit across her features as she tries to work out whether I'm teasing or not.

"I don't like Meat Feasts." Her voice is a whisper. "I prefer turkey."

"You like to gobble?" I raise an eyebrow. A red blush steals across her face, I'm not sure whether it's from excitement or fear.

"I only ever eat six inches."

I shrug. "Works for me."

"You want me to …? Oh, God, I've left you hanging haven't I? Does that mean all the blood has rushed to your—" She can't bring herself to say the word. It makes me want her even more. "You must be so light-headed. Let me help you with that."

She reaches her hand out, only inches away from my shorts. My cock is straining against the thin fabric, tenting it away from my body.

I grab her wrist to stop her progress. "Fluff, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. I've waited this long, I can wait a bit longer."

I'm totally lying. I'm dying here. I read somewhere 'lack of oxygen to the brain' was the eventual cause of all deaths. In that case, I've been pretty much dead for the last two weeks.

Well, parts of me have.

"But your balls, they must be so …" She wrinkles her nose. "You know."

"Painful? Distended? Bluer than Jasper's mascara?"

She starts to giggle. "Something like that."

I'm torn. I'm fucking ripped in two. There's part of me—a rather large part—that wants to just let her dip her hand in and pull me off until I erupt like Mount Vesuvius. If you'd asked me a few weeks ago whether I'd prevaricate this long, I would have laughed in your face.

But this is Fluff. She's the one good thing in my life and I don't want to muck this up. She's already told me she needs reassurance, and I'm determined to give her what she wants.

Often.

On multiple occasions.

"Let's just wait, okay?" Jesus, kill me now. I'm turning into a fucking hero from a chick lit book. "I'll go and get tested, and then we can work things out when we're in Vegas. I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want to do." My mind starts to work overtime. I want to show her a good time in Vegas, maybe take her out on a date. I want to let her know this isn't just about her body.

On top of mine.

Soft and warm.

Oh, God.

Her face relaxes, and I realize she's relieved. It wounds me a little, but I try not to show it. I want her to feel relaxed and ready. There's no way I'm going to scare her away.

"Okay." A brilliant smile lights up her face, and I can't help but feel warm inside. I never realized how nice it was to be nice.

I should try it more often.

. . . . .

Mom flies out two days later, the hound from Hell grinning when he knows he'll have her to himself again. Charlie Swan turns up to drive her to the airport, despite my many offers, and I make a note to wash my eyes out with Lysol when I see his hand pat her ass as he helps her into his car.

And then there were two.

Fluff has lessons in the afternoon, so we spend the morning sorting out her apartment, cleaning and doing the laundry. I can't work out why I'm feeling so down, because this was only ever meant to be temporary, and my place is a hundred times nicer than hers, even with added fire damage.

But this pokey, two-bed apartment in a slightly worse part of town has one huge advantage over mine, something not even a newly cleaned hot-tub can compensate for.

Fluff lives here.

After a quick lunch, I drop her at college, then head toward the clinic. I've decided to do this properly, to start living my life like a civilian, so rather than use the doc from the studio, I head for the STD clinic at our local hospital.

I'm a little late by the time I arrive, and feeling a bit flustered. I wander the winding hallways, past clinics for broken bones and plastic surgery. The lemony-fresh smell of the cleaner reminds me a little too much of the studio after filming, and it makes my stomach turn.

"Can I help you?" A petite blonde nurse stops me in the corridor, placing her warm hand on my bicep. I bite my lip, not wanting to admit I'm lost, and definitely not wanting to tell her what I'm looking for.

I do have some standards.

"Yeah, I need to find … a … friend of mine." I run my hand through my hair, frowning when she starts to push her chest out. She licks her already-glowing lips and I try to shrink back. All I can think of is a documentary I once saw on a Praying Mantis. Right now, I'm the one who feels like praying. To God.

"Do you know which clinic your … friend … is attending?" She bats her blonde eyelashes at me.

I half cough the words into my hand. "The STD clinic."

"STD?" She steps back from me. I swallow a laugh at the look of disgust on her face.

"Yeah, apparently it's really bad. The worst they've ever seen." I'm getting into it now. Her nose curls up and she gestures her hand toward the right.

"Three doors down. I must go, I'm late." She turns on her heel and runs. I suppress a grin then head for the clinic, wanting to get this thing over and done with.

Ten minutes later, I'm in a consulting room, speaking with Nurse Cope, who is taking down my history.

"Please don't be afraid to be honest with me," she's saying, with an Irish lilt to her voice. Her kind smile is reassuring. With her helmet of grey hair and full, open face, she reminds me a little of a grandma. "I've seen everything and heard everything. Nothing surprises me anymore."

"Okay." My voice comes out as a squeak. I don't want to be the one to ruin her day.

"Let's start with a nice easy question. What's your occupation?" She glances up and me and lifts her pen to the clipboard. She's expecting a fast answer …

… but she isn't getting one.

"Ummm …" I chew on my lip. My mind goes completely blank. As in empty. Nothing there. Nada.

"What's your job?" She rephrases, clearly thinking I'm an idiot.

"I'm an ex- …" My eyes are popping out of my head with the strain. "P … p … p …" I get stuck on the 'P'. I just can't say it.

"An ex-puh," she says encouragingly.

"An ex-p … p … priest." I finally spit out.

"An ex-priest?" Her eyebrow almost meets her hairline with surprise.

I nod dumbly.

"Okay, Father. Just a few more questions." Her face is starting to heat up. I can see thoughts flashing behind her eyes like disco lights. She must be wondering why the hell an ex-priest needs testing for STDs.

I try to think of how a priest in an STD clinic would act. I channel my inner Ed Norton. "Go ahead, my child."

"Okay, um, Father, I'm so sorry, but I have to ask this. Can you tell me when you were last sexually active?" She actually looks distressed. I lay a gentle arm on her shoulder and flash her a reassuring smile. I try to make it more regal than rampant.

"Can you define 'sexually active'?" Because I was pretty damn active with Fluff last night.

Nurse Cope starts fiddling with her pen. "When was the last time you had sex?" Her voice is a whisper.

I screw up my face to think. I haven't had sex with anybody since I first met Fluff. I wrack my brain to work out how long we've known each other, then almost jump out of the chair when I realize the answer.

Have I really only known her for such a short amount of time?

"Just over two weeks."

Nurse Cope's shocked expression seems to have become permanent. She hurriedly scribbles on her form, unable to meet my eyes.

"And how many partners have you had?"

"How long have you got?"

This time she meets my stare. Her baby-blue eyes are horrified, and her fingers start to twitch. I wonder if she's desperate to make the sign of the cross.

"More than five?" She squeaks out the question.

I nod.

"Ten?"

I nod again.

"Mother of God," she mutters. "More than twenty?"

I pat her shoulder again. This time she flinches away from me. "Shall we start at three figures?"

She speeds through the rest of the questions like an addict on crack, desperate to get out of the consulting room. I answer as truthfully as I can, each word another nail in the coffin she desperately wants me to climb into. She literally stabs me with a needle in her eagerness to take blood, the pain causing tears to sting at my eyes. Then she hands me a pot for a urine sample, directing me toward the bathroom, explaining how much is required.

When I come back and hand her the sample, she places it on a tray and scribbles some information. I feel very satisfied, happy that I've done the tests, like I'm one step further along the line toward normality.

"Is that it?" My smile drops when I glance at Nurse Cope, and she looks like she's about to cry.

"No." Her voice comes out as a wail. I keep my hands by my side. Trying to comfort her a third time with a priestly hand may be too much to take.

"No?" I question, wondering what else I need to provide.

"I'm afraid there's one more test we need to do."

I frown, my brows pulling down as I try to work it out. I'm pretty sure I've never had to provide a mouth swab or a semen sample. I can't work out what other fluids there can be.

"One more test?" I clarify. "What sort of test?"

"I'm so sorry, Father." Her eyes drop to the floor. "I'm going to have to examine your penis."


A/N A-JASPER-FOR-ME betas and Grnidgrl pre-reads. They deserve a medal for putting up with us.

Thank you to all of you who voted for Fluffed for fic of the week on The Lemonade Stand. We won - and were so excited you can't even imagine. Imagine Alsper on speed and you're probably getting close.

The outtake for Fandom For Oklahoma has now been released. It fits in at the end of this chapter and describes the fantastic four's (Fluff, Bunny and Alsper) journey to Vegas. For those that haven't had a chance to read, we will post it as an outtake here in September.

Thank you all for reading. Your reviews make our day (and put big smiles on our faces.) We'd like to give you all ten minutes each in the clinic with Father Cullen. He has a lot to confess.

Have a great week, we heart you lots.

Love, Sparrow and Choc x