Chapter 9
The hypnotic rhythm of the music around me. The warm, willing body pressed against my own. Movement, slow and sensual, fast and passionate. It only takes a few minutes for me to lose myself until I can let go and just enjoy.
Dancers are all around us, and many of them are moving with more skill than we are, but there are too many people here to dance for real. I don't care, and Bella doesn’t seem to either, as she's laughing and grinning at me when she isn't molding herself against me.
I'm drunk, horny and am with the most beautiful woman in the world, who is still sore from when I f*cked her right into incoherency, life should be good.
And thanks to the booze burning in my veins, for now it is.
I try to behave myself at first, but Bella is rubbing her ass against me whenever she can, which is more often than I'm used to, and I've never been one to pass up such an invitation. Her laughter turns husky when I run my hands up and down her thighs, then pull her firmly against me with her back flush with my chest. Her skin is hot under my palms when I let them roam up and under her top.
The atmosphere in the room must be affecting her just like it is me as she doesn't even tense up, but instead throws her head back against my shoulder so that her hot breath is blowing over my neck. I normally keep any public displays of affection to a healthy minimum, but tonight I just can't. She is so soft and warm, and I'm feeling as if I would die if I couldn't hold her right now.
Bella rasps out the most delicious moan when my palms skim up her stomach and my cock grows painfully hard.
“I need you,” I whisper into her ear and her answering moan goes right to my dick. “I want you. Right now. So f*cking much.” She moans again, and when I turn my head I see that her eyes are closed, a blissed out look on her face. I know how much she loves it when I talk dirty to her, and as I'm still not drunk enough to take her right here on the dance floor, I express my desire to do so through hushed words and wet kisses all over her bare shoulder.
“Do you have any idea how horny you make me?”
Her chuckle, nearly innocent but not quite, makes things even worse. Then her hand is on my knee, running up my thigh until it is between our bodies, and she discreetly rubs my crotch.
“Hmm, a little?”
I snarl playfully and scrape my teeth over the sensitive spot on her neck until she starts to shiver.
“Just a little? I think I have to elaborate on that then. You make my cock so f*cking hard it's almost painful to keep myself in check, but you know how much I get off on that. And I can't f*ck you right here because that would be too easy. But I could play with your delicious tits in the meantime, would you like that?”
To heighten the impact of my words I move my hands away from her bare skin and place them on her waist over the thin fabric, inching higher slowly.
Bella's resulting panting breath is as needy as if I were actually screwing her, and I wonder if I can make her come from talking and tame touching alone. But she doesn't really answer me, so I bite into her neck, using just enough pressure to make her feel my teeth but not seriously hurt her. She groans, but it's a wanton sound, and not for the first time I marvel what I've done to deserve a girl like her.
“I guess that's a clear yes. Just thinking of how sensitive your nipples are right now makes me want to jizz my pants. How delicious your moans will be when I kiss them. Lick them. Suck on them. Bite them.” Because I'm a mean f*cker I brush the backs of my hands over her tits in a deliberately idle gesture, feeling her nipples harden under the thin barrier of the top. I know she's not wearing a bra, and the temptation to grab her tits and roll her nipples between my fingers is overwhelming. So is her response to my words, a guttural moan that is so primal that I decide on the spot that I just can't wait until we're home, or even out of the club to make true of my words.
I switch my grip to her hips and start to move us both through the crowd of dancers towards one of the darker, more reclusive corners of the club, all the while rubbing myself along her body as much as I can. Bella is melting in my arms, playing along, and five minutes and two songs later we finally reach the edge of the dance floor. I really don't trust what is staining these walls so I push her up against the railing of a staircase leading to the upper floor, and drink in the expression on her face. Her lips are parted slightly, her eyes wide from alcohol and lust alike, and the light sheen of sweat that's covering her body is begging to be licked off.
Her arms reach up to my head and a moment later my body is crushed against hers, my tongue deep in her mouth while my fingers dig into her ass. She tastes of Bella and tequila, and the desire to do some body shots off her tits is occupies my mind for a moment. I restrain myself from enacting that this very minute by kissing a wet line down from her lips over her chin and throat, staying there for a moment to lick along her clavicle before I move lower.
Right now I don't care who sees us, and I'm trusting that Bella thinks along the same lines as I do, or has the common sense to stop me before I can do something that goes against her grain. She certainly doesn't protest when I grab her tits and push them together, then bury my face between them, kissing and licking the sumptuous flesh. A little fumbling and I get my fingers into her top from the sides so I can tease her nipples. Her chest is heaving and a string of profanity leaves her lips that makes me want to tear off her clothes and f*ck her right here and now.
One of her hands is in my hair, the other on my shoulder, her nails digging into my skin almost painfully, but she's clearly enjoying what I'm doing to her. Her moaning gets almost obscenely loud when I finally free one of her nipples and greedily suck it into my mouth. She's so responsive tonight, and I'm determined to use that to my advantage. Pretty much the only thing I can still think of is how good it will feel when I thrust into her warm, wet cunt, and lost in that all consuming desire I reach down to undo the button of her pants.
Only that I never actually get her fly open because her fingers wrap around my wrists and effectively stop me in mid motion. I whine and try to shake her off, but she's clearly doing the stopping I was hoping she would do earlier, only that now it's most unwelcome.
“Edward, stop! You need to
we need to
Alice and Jazz will be looking
for us!”
Her words hit me like a freight train, and I need a few seconds to drag my mind out of the gutter and her panties. When I look into her face I see that she's flushed and worked up, but her eyes are pleading with me, and she's clearly not asking for my cock.
A wave of rejection follows the initial confusion, and even though the very small part of me that is in fact still able to do some thinking is telling me that she's not rejecting me, it hurts. So. F*cking. Much.
Rationality quickly follows my horniness into the abyss, and I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose in order to restrain myself. I don't know what exactly I want to do, but the need to lash out is slowly becoming overwhelming, and if not for the booze slowing my thoughts and reactions, I might have said a few choice words I should never utter to the woman I love.
I'm just getting a grip on myself when Bella goes on, and frustration is leaking into the maelstrom of emotions inside of me as I helplessly watch her rearrange her outfit.
“We really can't do this, and you know it! We've been gone far too long already, and you know how much Alice resents being left behind. And it didn't look like she could push Jazz into dancing with her when you dragged me off oh so subtly.”
“F*ck Alice! I don't give a shit what she thinks or feels!” Bella's mouth drops open, and she just stares at me for a moment.
“You don't really mean that,” she replies flatly, and the guarded look suddenly on her face only fuels the rage inside of me. Of course I don't mean it, but that's exactly the problem. And right now I'm too angry to explain.
“Like hell I don’t! I didn't want to come here in the first place but I went because of you. Now I want fifteen minutes alone with you, and don't tell me you're any less wound up than I am, because I'm pretty sure that by now you've drenched your underwear and pants from being so f*cking wet!”
A low blow, and I kind of wish I could take back the words spilling from my mouth, but at least now Bella's angry with me and no longer holding back.
“F*ck you, Cullen!”
Okay, she's really angry when she's resorting to a last name basis, but I don't care. I know I deserve that anger, but it doesn't help our situation.
“I wish! But you'd rather hang out with that moron and his overbearing, annoying bitch!”
Now her face is draining of color, and I know I've overstepped my limits.
Shit. But there's nothing I'm willing to say that can get me out of this now.
“Did you just call Alice a bitch?”
Her voice is deceptively calm but her eyes are alive with anger, and I absent-mindedly note that her fists are clenched and she's shaking slightly.
“Yes, I did, do I have to spell it out for you? What else do you call a woman who's behaving like she is? We're freaking tiptoeing around her as if we cheated on her! We can't even crack the slightest joke, and don't tell me she didn't rip you a new one after that word vomit of yours?”
“It's none of your business what she said to me. And I can't believe the shit you're saying! God, it's like I don't even know you! I'm pretty sure Jazz never talks about me like this, you know?”
Two low blows in as many sentences, and while I try hard not to, now my anger's redirecting itself at Bella.
“Are you stupid or what? Did you already forget what he told Alice in order to land with her? He blamed it all on you, and I'm sure he also used choice words like cunt or whore in that tale, too!”
The agony in her eyes makes me want to apologize instantly, but I'm just telling her things she should know. And it's not like I said that about her, but I shouldn't have to repeat it. Right now her forgiveness only adds to the rejection I'm feeling, and I just can't take any more of this. I need to get away from here if I don't want to ruin all the civility I've scraped together today.
“I think it's best if I go now. Home. Care to accompany me?” Maybe I should've used a less condescending tone, as Bella's jaw is suddenly set as she glares at me.
“You know what? I think that's a good idea, in fact it's the first sensible thing I've heard from you tonight. Go home, Edward. But I'm staying here, I won't let your inane jealousy ruin my life and the bond I have with my best friends.”
I don't want to leave without her, but I know that it will take a while for her to snap out of that stubborn mood. Anything I say now will fall on deaf ears, so I might as well spare my breath.
“Awesome, have it your way! But don't come crying to me later when Alice keeps spewing her hostile comments at you, you've made your bed, now sleep in it!”
At least she's not alone in putting her foot in her mouth, but now the fact that I'm not quite sober is in her favor, as my words don't shut her up as I've hoped. Instead she gloats at me, and I definitely don't like the fire that's returning to her eyes.
“You know what, if I had a thread less of dignity I would so take that verbatim and go back to Alice and Jazz and ask them if I can sleep over.
Preferably in their bed. Alice might balk at first, but you know that she's never really revoked her invitation to make out with me. And I've been okay with Jazz as a side dish with you, don't think that has changed all that much. Good night, Edward, and sleep tight!”
I'm simply too stunned and hurt by her words to respond in time, and when I find my voice again Bella has already turned on her heel and is stalking through the crowd over to our table. I want to cry, shout, rage, and rant, but I know that I'll only make things worse if I follow her. So I do the only thing that I can do – and go home.
My mind is comfortably numb during the bus ride home, but when I open the door and walk into the empty condo, it all comes rushing back. Her words, the disbelief in her voice, the malice in her eyes – and confronted with the choice of curling up to die or throwing a fit, I let my anger consume me. I feel like smashing something, but I know that once I've cooled down, giving in will only make me feel worse, so I quickly change into my shorts and running shoes and take off.
It's past midnight, it's raining, and I'm miserable even before I'm as wet as a dog, but my rage keeps me warm. Soon the last residues of the tequila are burned up and my mind kicks into overdrive, and just to shut up the voices in my head I push myself harder and harder until I'm running at full speed, and all that's left is the screaming burn in my muscles.
Eventually all my energy is spent, and I simply can't run anymore. I stop and bend over, trying to get some air into my lungs while my head spins from exhaustion. My whole body is quivering, and I'm so thirsty that even the water in the puddles looks enticing. Once I’m able, I straighten and raise my face into the rainy darkness, letting the water hit my hot skin.
I have no idea where I am, some industrial area. I vaguely remember that I didn't take my phone with me, just my keys, but right now I don't care. I start walking, and a while later I recognize one of the buildings. I'm just a few minutes from Rose and Emmett's, and I shake my head over the direction my subconscious has led me. While seeming a very unlikely voice of reason, Rose has always been there for me when I needed to work something out. She's a good listener, and she has no filter when it comes to set my head straight. She'll know what to do. She'll help me get my head out of my ass again.
The flaw in my plan occurs to me as I get closer to my new destination.
Rose is seven months pregnant, bitchy as hell, and is in her right mind to blow me off when I show up at her doorstep at what I presume must be 2
AM by now. But maybe she'll be gracious and call me a cab so I can get home at least.
I'm nearly at their door when I see light coming from one of the windows behind the small balcony that opens onto the street, and when I crane my neck, I see a hulking shape up there, staring into the night. It strikes me as peculiar to see Emmett out there in the middle of the night, but who am I to talk? I call up to him, and after a moment he leans forward and squints down into the night.
“Is that you, Edward?”
“In the soaking wet flesh! Hey bud.”
“Hey there yourself,” he replies, keeping his voice pitched low now. “You do realize that it's 2:30 and raining cats?”
I've noticed, but I seriously don't have the will for banter anymore, nor the energy.
“Yeah. Can I call a cab? I'm kind of in need of a ride home.”
“I have a much better idea!”
And he's gone, stepping inside. Barely a minute later he comes out of the house, a blanket and a pack of cigarettes in his hands. He nods at his Jeep parked at the curb, then hands me the blanket before getting inside.
“Just don't get anything too wet. Rose abhors that wet dog smell.” I roll my eyes at him but put the blanket onto the seat before I climb inside.
Em cranks the window down and lights a Camel before he starts the car.
“Since when do you smoke?”
“On and off since Junior High. Promised Rosie I would give up for good once the baby's here, and she's had some weird cramps earlier this week so I figured I might as well make good of that pack before the little bugger is early and derives me of my last guilty pleasure for the next eighteen years.”
He's grinning while he says it, his face lighting up when he mentions his wife and child alike. Reminds me of the day when Rose got her test results back and tracked me down at the hospital, hugging me and crying with joy for a full fifteen minutes. I don't think either of us doubted Em when he told her that he didn't care if the kid was his or not, but of course it was a relief for everyone when the test came back a positive match.
I've been wondering for years what Rose saw in him, as I never thought that a woman of her intellect and snide tongue would ever be happy with such a big, goofy teddy bear, but of course there's more to him than his easy way and linebacker build. Evident sexual compatibility aside, he's one thing above everything else – loyal. I don't think Rose will ever have reason to doubt his undying love and devotion for her, and I'm sure they'll stick together till the bitter end, come what may. I wish I could say the same for Bella and me, but we already proved to ourselves that we'll always have to fight to achieve as much as Em and Rose have now.
The thought makes me even more morose, and for a moment I have trouble breathing. I'm still convinced that I did the right thing, but I know I've made an ass of myself, and Bella won’t necessarily extend unlimited forgiveness to me.
“Spill, whatcha doing out here at this god forsaken hour? And don't tell me you needed to burn off some energy, I know you two have better ways of accomplishing that.”
I send him a long look, but am simply too tired for joking.
“We fought. I stormed off. Then ran until I couldn't go on any longer. End of story.”
Em stops at a red light and glances at me for a moment.
“That bad, huh?”
“I honestly don't know. Probably.”
At his raised brow I shrug.
“We've been out with Jazz and Alice. I lost it, said some things Bella won't let me forget for a while, but so did she. She didn't want to go home with me, so I left her there and went alone. I couldn't stand to just sit there in the dark and wait for her, so I went for a run.”
“First fight?”
I want to laugh at the notion at first, but then realize that he's right, it really is our first fight. With all the drama I often forget that it's only been a few months for us, and even though we've fought before, we've never had that kind of fight.
“I guess so.”
“Always hits you the hardest. And is usually over something pretty stupid, huh?”
Or it's something really important, and you f*ck it up even more than it already was, but I don't really feel like sharing that bit with him. It's bad enough that Rose filled him in on the details after the whole thing with Jazz blew up in my face. At least he's not teasing me too much about it.
“You know, it takes a lot more than some stupid behavior and angry remarks for Bella to be seriously pissed off with you? She just doesn't eat it all up anymore.”
“I'm not concerned about her being pissed off.”
As I say the words, I realize that they're true. I can deal with her being cranky after what I've said. What I can't deal with is the reason why everything got that bad.
“Ah. Sounds like there's more to this.”
“Maybe.”
“You still keeping up your denial routine?”
“You all sound like a broken record. I'm not the one who's in denial!” My temper's flaring again, and I want to wipe the stupid grin off Emmett's face, but when he glances at me again his look is full of compassion.
“It’d be so much easier if it were just that, eh?” I agree, wholeheartedly. I wish my problem were something as easy as me running away from what happened, or how I feel about it. I could go see some therapist or other about that, and before long they'd diagnose me all healed once I coughed up the details.
“What ya gonna do about it? You know how the girls are, they always want to talk about shit.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I pause for a moment and glance outside into the pouring rain. “But what do I tell her when I've said everything there is to say again and again? Can't really make something up just for the sake of saying something new, right?”
Em shrugs.
“You know her better than anyone else. Just tell her what she wants to know, what she needs to hear. Sometimes it's as easy as telling her that you love her, and it'll all be good. It's not like you f*cked up for real again, right?”
I don't like the cautious note in his voice, as if he's somehow afraid that it's not a rhetorical question. I try to come up with a witty reply, but I'm simply too exhausted to care. In the meanwhile he's slowing down at the curb and puts the car into park in front of our house. Before I can get my foot into my mouth again, Em continues.
“I know you probably don't think I know a thing about your problems, but I've seen my share of shit go down around me in the last few years. Just tell Bella how you feel about things. And I don't mean some flowery girl talk shit. The truth, plain and simple. Don't blame her, the jackass, or even yourself. I'm sure she's heard all about it already. She can make up her mind on her own when she has all the facts. But she can't really understand you if all she ever hears is how you want her to see things, no?”
He's right, and it's embarrassing how true his words are. I mean what he's telling me should be obvious, but the more I think of it, the more I see how Bella's reaction to what I've said makes sense. Now I'm frustrated with myself, and I hide my face in my hands for a moment.
“I'm just so freaking tired of everyone expecting me to f*ck up.” Em's laughter rings loud inside the car, and he's reaching for another cancer stick.
“Tell her that, too. You know that Bella's the only one that counts, so why care about anyone else's expectations?”
I nod, and with a heavy sigh reach for the door handle.
“Thanks, man. And not just for the ride.”
“You're welcome! Just don't f*ck up again, eh?”
Chuckling under my breath I get out, and Em swerves right back into traffic.
I stare up at the house for a moment, trying to decide what to do now, but really, there's just one option. I can only hope that whatever went down after I took off hasn't riled her up even more. Resigning myself to my fate, I walk inside, and hopefully not into war.