Muchas gracias to the loves of my life, KatieTv and Madame SugarTits. Thank you for your help and for your promoting. Please, please please go read their new fic F.I.T.F. you'll laugh yourself silly and drive yourself crazy trying to figure out what it stands for. Thank you also to everyone who retweets my chapter announcements, recs this fic, leaves me love, adds me to alerts/favorites, I love you all.
Ok and I was told to mention to y'all what Red Vines are (they play a prominent role in this chappy). Red Vines are like Twizzlers but wayyyy better. You can buy them in a big plastic bucket at Costco/Sam's Club and the like. Check out the tabs for a photo.
If you're not 18 it's time for you to stop reading. This is none of your concern.
~~~~~~~
It's just a little crush (crush)
Not like I faint every time we touch
It's just some little thing (crush)
Not like every thing I do
Depends on you
~~Crush, Jennifer Paige
Not like I faint every time we touch
It's just some little thing (crush)
Not like every thing I do
Depends on you
~~Crush, Jennifer Paige
~~~~~~~
~~BPOV~~
Miss you
I blinked and rubbed my eyes. It was two a.m. and I was woken up by a chirp that indicated I had a new text message. I don't know if I was more surprised by the fact that I had one bar of reception or by the message.
It just wasn't his way. He wasn't the sentimental type. I wondered what could have him missing me enough in the middle of the night to pull out his cell and text me. Was he finding the bed too big without someone in it like I was? I read the words again and felt myself flush with love. My fingers shot across the keys.
Miss you too
I missed the sound of his voice, his fast and easy smile. I missed warming my toes in the crook of his legs while we slept. I missed the familiarity of simply being with him. He was my favorite pair of old worn in jeans. As much fun as I was having on this trip, as much as I was enjoying being alone and being just Bella, I still missed my favorite jeans. And no silly little crush on Edward Cullen was going to replace that.
Because that's what this was. I'd stayed up, unable to sleep, thinking about it. The rush of adrenaline I felt every time he was near was unnerving me. I was determined to sort out what I was feeling before I could let myself fall asleep and dream of his fingers touching me instead of his eyes.
Edward was just a delicious piece of eye candy. Inspiration for some hot fantasy that my rut of a sex life needed. I was just adding him into the mix of brooding Ryan Gosling as Noah Calhoun, Ramones playing Jared Leto as Jordan Catalano, and the adorably cute gas station attendant that worked the Shell in Forks last summer. He was no different. A harmless crush, reminding me of how sexy the unknown could be. I would go home to my loving husband, full of pent up desire and sexual tension. And from the sound of that text, absence was making his heart grow fonder.
For the first time in a long time, I dreamed of my Jake's hands on my body.
~~~~~~~
"Hurry up, I want to get seats together tonight." I pounded on Zafrina's door. "Z? Come on!"
"Jesus, Bella. Calm the fuck down. What has gotten into you?" Zafrina opened the door sliding on her sandal.
What had gotten into me? Edward's sour puss mood and asshole personality, that's what.
"Nothing. I don't want to eat alone."
She said nothing as she closed the door behind her and picked up her purse. We made our way to dinner without a word and I was relieved when we easily found two seats together. I should have felt honored to be sitting with Aro Volturi, master of historical fiction, but I couldn't force myself to listen to him. I just kept going back to earlier.
It started at lunch. Zafrina was attending a lunchtime workshop about self-marketing so I was left on my own. I picked up a sandwich and salad from the buffet and made my way to a table where Edward sat reading. I'd brought my own book in case I dined alone but his company was far better. I sat down and said hello and he glanced up, gave a grim smile and returned to his book.
And that was it. He read the entire lunch hour not looking at me or speaking to me. At all. I opened my book to act as if I didn't care but I was steaming with embarrassment. If it wouldn't have made it worse, I would have gotten up and gone to another table.
I talked myself into believing that he was really into what he was reading and that it had nothing to do with me. But for some reason, I knew it did. For one, he was wearing a hat pulled down low over his eyes. He was also wearing cologne. It still smelled good but it didn't smell like him. He had created a wall around himself and he didn't want me to come through.
It was worse in his class. He'd arranged the chairs and tables in a circle so that we all faced each other during the readings. You would have thought I wasn't even in the room. He called four names to share today and I wasn't among them. No big deal, neither were seven other people. But he called on all of them to ask for their contribution. He never said my name. He never looked my way. The one time I did speak, he openly and rudely disagreed with my opinion. So much so, that Tanya smirked in victory and the serious/annoyed guy shot me a look of pity. That clammed my ass right up. Nothing would make me share my thoughts again, not even the huge tub of Red Vines Licorice Ropes he'd brought in to bribe feedback out of us. And I loved Red Vines.
By the time class was over I was pissed he'd gotten under my skin. Who the hell was he to make me feel so insignificant? I flew out of the room the moment we were excused. When I tripped on the leg of the desk and went flying, purse contents splattering everywhere, he made no move to help me. Still, as I sat in the dining room now, three tables away from him, I could hear his laugh over everybody else.
I glanced over my shoulder, just for a moment, almost subconsciously. He was laughing at a raucous story being told by Benito and Garrett. Stretched out in his chair with one arm thrown around the back of Tanya's, he drummed his fingers on the table as he listened. Our eyes met, his smile dropped, and he glared at me. I swear to L. Ron Hubbard, he glared at me. I snapped my head back around.
About three things I was certain. First, Edward was an ass. Second, there was a part of him, and I didn't know how dominant that part might be, that actively disliked me. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably over my crush on him.
~~~~~~~
"I don't get it. The camera is a metaphor?" Tanya whined as a flustered middle aged woman finished reading her sample writing.
"I get it, I get it. It's like on another level. The camera is above her. It transcends," said by the resident stoner hippie. There's always one.
"What? No. Um..." The author looked to Edward for help and he shook his head in defeat. This particular sample was difficult. I think I knew what the author was trying to get across but either she picked the wrong piece from the manuscript to share or she always wrote to big for her pencil. Her meaning was getting lost in her desire to show a unique style.
"The problem is I think," I was speaking before I realized it, "that the camera metaphor is being drowned and it's the best part. It should float." I snapped my mouth shut and glanced at Edward.
I had gotten to class late today and was stuck with the desk right beside him. It was the least favorite amongst my classmates because you stared at his back. He was standing in front of his table, leaning on it, rather than sitting behind it like the rest of us. He did this so he could walk to each table offering a Red Vine from the tub when we commented.
"Go on," he said without looking at me.
"It's a good metaphor. Your narrator, she is the camera. It's old and slow. It uses film and is seen as obsolete. It's forgotten on a shelf, sold for three dollars at the Goodwill. But your protagonist sees the beauty in the antiquity and recognizes the forgotten potential. She captures an image unlike the crisp vibrant ones of her digital competitors. And when she wins that photojournalism award it's a victory for her and the camera. They both have a lot of life left in them."
"Yes, thank you! That's what I want it to say." The writer beamed at me.
Edward cleared his throat and reached behind him for the tub of sticky red goodness. He shifted his weight so his body was facing mine. And he looked at me.
He finally looked at me.
"That was a very perceptive critique Ms. Swan. You were able to look beyond the flaws of the writing to see to the heart of what the author was trying to convey." He said holding the tub at his waist. "I think that warrants a reward. Don't you class?"
There was awkward clapping as I glanced up to him. He made no movements towards me, with his body or the tub. He just sat, holding it at his groin and jutting it towards me. I stuck my hand out but the candy was just beyond my reach. He raised an eyebrow but didn't move closer.
I pushed off my chair and balanced a hand on the desk to lean across and pull one long rope from the center of his lap. He held my gaze the entire time and when I sat back down I felt like I'd freed something more than candy from that area.
"I think we're done for the day. Good work. The last four will go tomorrow, you know who you are, come prepared. He continued to hold the bucket in front of him as we all filed out the door.
~~~~~~~
"And where do you think you're going?" Zafrina looked up from her open laptop and piles of notes.
"The beach. It's gorgeous out there. Over seventy degrees, in March. I'm taking full advantage of the Vitamin D. Come with?"
"I wish. I've got a deadline. My editor sent me a ton of stuff she said needs reworking. I'll be sitting right here through dinner and breakfast at least."
"Sucky. Well it's only a little bit before the sun goes down but I'm thinking I'll skip dinner and watch the sunset."
"Sure, sure. Keep yourself busy I could use the peace." Zafrina waved at me over the top of her head which had already sank behind the screen.
I gathered up my Ipod, my notebook, the sample for Edward's class tomorrow, and a worn blue quilt I found in the closet. It was so out of place in the scarlet cabin I wondered where it had come from.
It was a short distance down the road in front of the cabins, past the main house, and through the flower covered dunes to the beach. There was a breeze by the water so I laid out the quilt at the base of one of the dunes a few paces over from the footpath. There was a slight incline to the bed I made and I could lean back comfortably and watch the cerulean ocean melt into the sky.
I was mulling over a story idea. I wasn't sure I wanted to commit to it yet but rather I wanted to think on it. Let the story live in my head awhile before I jotted any notes on a page.
I pulled my cotton dress a little higher on my knees and my straw hat a little lower on my face. This was the most sun I'd seen in ages and I planned on enjoying it. So I did nothing that I meant to do. I didn't work on my selection for tomorrow, I didn't make notes on the new ideas swirling in my head, I didn't think about the random turn of events with Edward. I just basked in the heat of the sun and the blue of the sky and listened to my characters talk to me.
The temperature dropped as night crept in. I pulled the quilt around me to watch the world glow purple and orange. The nightly bagpipes played in the distance ushering me from sunset to dusk and I was lulled to sleep in twilight dreaming of him.
We were in a forest damp and green. He leaned against a tree and called to me.
"Bella, it's yours for the taking. I'm not going to give it to you, you have to take it." He slid a Red Vine between his lips and slowly began to eat it.
I watched it shorten into his mouth and just before the last piece disappeared, I pushed him against the tree and took it from his lips.
"What took you so long?"
"I had to know how bad I wanted it."
He pushed me down to the mossy covered forest floor and hovered over me. "Do you know now? How much you want me? His mouth dropped to mine and a wolf howled miles away.
I woke with a start the wolf howl giving way to last piercing note of the pipes signaling the end of day and beginning of night. The dream was still fresh in my mind, his scent in my nose, his touch touch on my skin, and my desire still swollen with want.
I shook the blanket from me though it was still tangled around my legs. The beach was empty and dark except the faint glow of the main house behind me.
I laid back down trying to catch my breath and calm my shaking legs. I tried to think of anything but him. My entire blood supply throbbed between my thighs and I suddenly understood blue balls all too well. Because I was suffering from a wicked case of blue vulva.
When nothing else worked, I succumbed and slid my hand beneath my dress and under the soaked panties. I groaned the minute flesh touched flesh and nearly came as I pushed softly into my clit. There was no need to savor or to take my time. I just needed to cum fast enough so that I could trust my legs to carry me back to my room where I could fuck myself, imagining him, all night if I wanted.
My fingers moved lower and my own wetness turned me on. I thought of Edward holding the candy today; forcing me to thrust my hand into his crotch for my reward and I moaned again.
"Fuckkkk," I whispered into the dark. "Fuck you, Edward. Fuck you and your fucking candy. Fuck you for making me want you to fuck me."
I came hard and the crush lived on.
~~~~~~~
~~I'd love reviews more than you'd love to suck a Red Vine from Edward's mouth~~
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