Chapter 1: Dinner and Dancing
Author's Note: This story was posted a long time ago on this site, but I removed it when the 10 year old kids were reporting Twilight fics. They don't seem to care any longer, so I'm reposting. A note on content: This story starts out very lemony with a threesome, but it doesn't stay that way. I also write Jacob in a very positive way. Bella's inner musings were not copied from E.L. James (as I have been accused of). I wrote this a long time before I ever looked at the first chapter of MOTU. There is an HEA for every character in this story. (Well, almost every character.)
BELLA…
"Friday's the big day, Bella! The big two-one. So, whatcha got planned?"
Alice, my best friend in the entire world, sat cross-legged on my second-hand goodwill sofa and was practically bursting at the seams with excitement over the prospect of my twenty-first birthday, which was due to arrive in less than a week. I didn't share her enthusiasm. To me, it was just another day.
"Oh, let's see," I said, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling and pretending to be deep in thought. "I thought I'd drag out that cute little red fuck me dress I bought at Walmart, put on that pair of matching screw me stilettos I bought at Payless Shoes, and then hit the bars. After I get good and shit-faced on Screwdrivers, then I thought I'd invite some strange guy home with me who looks just like Johnny Depp, and let him do me in every room of my apartment."
"Oooh, sounds juicy, but Johnny Depp doesn't do it for me. He's a little strange. I'm more of an Eminem kind of girl. You know I love the bad boy types." Alice giggled evilly. "So, which bar are we hitting and what are you really wearing?"
"Alice!" I rolled my eyes and laughed at just how easy she was. "You big dummy. I'm staying home. There's an Alfred Hitchcock marathon on that weekend that I've been looking forward to for forever."
"What?! Alfred Hitchcock?!" Alice unfolded her legs and assumed the "serious girl-talk" position: hands on hips, back ramrod straight, perched on the edge of the sofa, and an indignant scowl. "Alfred Hitchcock does not look like Johnny Depp. Not even close. You can't spend your twenty-first birthday with a pot-bellied old man who's been dead for a million years."
"Alfred Hitchcock was a filmmaking genius, I'll have you know. I'll bet you didn't know that he pioneered a lot of the camera techniques you see in movies today."
"No, I didn't know that, and I'm going to try my best to forget it as soon as I can," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Look, I don't want to make a big deal out of this, Alice. I just want to spend a nice evening at home. Alone."
She sighed. "It's been almost six months since you and Mike broke up. You need to start dating."
"I don't want to date. Dating means strings and I don't want to be someone's marionette again," I said stubbornly.
"Okay, then don't date. Just have some fun. Some nice meaningless sex would be a good place to start." Alice grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.
Meaningless sex? I shook my head at her in disbelief that she could even suggest I do something so shallow. "Thanks, but I think I'll stick with Alfred."
Friday finally arrived. Work seemed to last forever. Every single person who passed my cubicle wished me a happy birthday and offered suggestions on how I should spend it: everything from male strippers to drug and alcohol-induced orgies. Didn't anyone believe in quiet solitude anymore? After lunch, the switchboard sent a call to my desk phone.
"Hello?"
"Bella, it's Alice! OMG I have the best news! I snagged you a reservation for tonight at Bossa Nova! Happy Birthday!"
Bossa Nova? That restaurant was seriously ritzy and way out of my price range, but when it came to money, Alice had no boundaries. She lavished her friends with a constant supply of outrageously expensive gifts and refusing her was simply out of the question. I sighed softly. "Alice, uh, thanks but what would I wear to a place like that?"
"That blue and black slinky number you wore to your Christmas party last year will do fine. Black pumps and a few simple accessories and voila! You're smoking hot!"
"I guess that'll work, but I'm not going to eat alone." Nothing screamed desperate like a woman dining by herself in a crowded restaurant.
"Bella….." She growled at me through the phone, which made me smile. "Would I do that to you? Of course you won't be alone. So, can Alfred wait long enough for you to have a nice dinner and some pleasant conversation?"
Alice was such a thoughtful friend. I couldn't say no to her. I just couldn't. I smiled to myself. "Sure. That sounds really nice. Thank you."
Alice had gone completely overboard…again. I was seated at a tiny table, front and center, right smack in the middle of the restaurant, which was not where I wanted to be. Three place settings complete with delicate crystal wine glasses and flowery china plates ringed the table. Three place settings? Hmmm…one for me, one for Alice, but who was the third one for?
A waiter, all decked out in a black tux with tails, approached my table with a bottle. "Miss Bella Swan?"
When I nodded, he uncorked the bottle and began to fill my glass. "Compliments of the two gentleman at the bar."
Two gentlemen at the bar? I whipped around to check out the customers at the bar but they all had their backs to me. Puzzled, I turned back around only to find the said two gentlemen now sitting across from me at my table. I did a double take. On closer inspection, I realized that these were not just two gentlemen. No. These were two god-like specimens of man flesh too beautiful to even be walking around among ordinary people. One was dark. Dark eyes, dark hair, deeply tanned skin, and his navy suit hugged his broad shoulders in a very appealing way. The other was light. Light eyes, light skin, but beautiful contrasting bronze-colored hair. He was thinner, with an expertly tailored gray suit that fit him like a second skin.
"Happy Birthday, Bella." Both of them smiled warmly at me, but it was the bronze-haired Adonis who'd spoken. Three innocent words, but the smooth sensuous voice that had delivered them sent a jolt of something sharp and hot down my stomach and straight into my hooha. Oh geez. It's been awhile since that's happened, Bella.
"Uh…thank you." I managed a smile. I mean, what else could I do? "And you are…?"
A hand shot across the table, the one with the short, dark hair and the dusky skin. "I'm Jacob Black, and this is my associate Edward Cullen." I reached out to shake his hand and instead found my fingers clinging lightly to his lips, which were shapely and full, and a beautiful shade of man-pink. Oh holy crapamoley, he's kissing my hand with those lips!
Then the "associate", Edward Cullen, chuckled softly and glanced Jacob's way. "My turn, Jake. Don't be selfish."
Jacob Black passed my hand ever so tenderly to Edward, who then kissed my fingers some more with his own set of gorgeous lips, and oh God, his fingers! So long and thin and warm and….
"Uh, could you excuse me for just a moment?" I retrieved my hand as gracefully as possible and shot up from the table. I retreated to a far corner of the restaurant, near the restrooms, far enough away so that they couldn't overhear my conversation, but still close enough to keep them in my sights. I dug out my cell and called Alice.
"Hey girlfriend. How's it going?"
"Alice, what the hell is going on? Where are you? You're supposed to be here…with me!"
"I never said I was going with you. I just said I wouldn't let you eat alone." She giggled mischievously. Oooh, I was going to choke her when I saw her again.
"Who are these two guys sitting at my table? Do you know them?"
"No, silly. I don't know them. They're from Leather and Lace."
Leather and Lace? It took a few moments for that phrase to process, and when the light bulb finally came on I wanted to run from the restaurant screaming, preferably with a butcher knife in my hand and headed straight for Mary Alice Brandon's palatial mansion. Leather and Lace was an escort service, a very exclusive escort service.
"I'm supposed to eat dinner with two prostitutes?!" I exclaimed, evidently just a little too loudly, because the heads of the nearest customers turned in my direction. I turned away, while still keeping my eyes on the occupants of my table. They seemed to be engaged in deep conversation. I didn't even want to imagine what topic they were discussing so earnestly. Who was going to be on top, perhaps?
"They aren't prostitutes, honey. They're escorts. But if it helps, just think of them as fantasy engineers, highly trained and highly SKILLED fantasy engineers." Another giggle on her end.
I growled at her through the phone. "Aliiiiice!"
"Okay, okaaaay. I'm being serious now. They really are highly trained men, Bella. Leather and Lace is a legitimate and respectable company with an exclusive clientele. Very expensive. These two guys are yours for the evening to do with as you please. So just relax and let them do their job. Listen honey, I have a beep. I gotta go. Happy Birthday!"
I stared down at the screen of my phone. Call ended: 6:43 pm.
The end of Mary Alice Brandon's life?: at my earliest convenience tomorrow, that is if I survived tonight.
Their conversation stopped as soon as I arrived back at the table. "Is everything all right?" Jacob Black this time, his voice low and husky, a bedroom voice if I ever heard one.
I nodded, smiled and wondered just what in the hell I was supposed to talk about with two male prostitu-er, escorts, for the rest of the meal.
Thankfully, the waiter arrived with menus. A good five minutes was taken up in deciding what food to order. It was rather amusing to listen to them argue softly with each other over whether to choose this item or that item. I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the both of them as they sparred quietly over the menu choices. They acted like two life-long friends just hanging out together, instead of two "working guys" on the clock.
The waiter left with our orders, which left us with a really long stretch of time to fill with polite conversation. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Sex God #1 (that would be Edward Cullen) was the first one to break the uncomfortable silence.
"We have some business we need to dispense with, unfortunately, before we go any further." He slipped a hand inside of his dark gray suit and came out with a cream colored envelope. "We're from Leather and Lace and we've been contracted to spend the evening with you, and to help you have the most pleasant twenty-first birthday possible." He laid the envelope on the table, raised his soulful bluish gray eyes to mine, and pushed it slowly in my direction. "Everything you need to know is in there. We highly recommend that you read over it very carefully."
Sex God #2 (that would be Jacob Black) groaned and then laughed softly. "God, Edward, you're scaring her to death. You're making it sound like it's a prenup or a waiver before brain surgery or something." Then he looked at me and grinned crookedly. "It's just the fine print, Bella, but we're required to show it to you."
Fine print? Riiiight. Prostitutes had fine print. Huh. You learned something new every day. I picked it up. My name was printed across the front in elegant script: Isabella Marie Swan.
I pulled out the thick, creamy stationery and unfolded it. It was written in the same script as my name on the front. I skimmed and scanned the page. The really important keywords jumped out at me: discreet and exclusive, medically screened, drug free, trained professionals, skilled and highly-educated escorts for social occasions: graduations, class reunions, birthdays, fees refundable if not completely satisfied. Not completely satisfied? Oh geez, I was so in over my head and Alice was sooo going to be dead meat for setting this up. I hurriedly refolded the paper and stuffed it back inside the envelope. With a nervous smile, I slowly pushed it back across the table.
Edward smiled and pushed it back. "That's yours to keep. Did you understand everything?"
I rolled my eyes. "You're prostitutes. What's to understand?" Okay, I had to admit even to myself that that was a little rude, but I was extremely uncomfortable with this situation. Maybe if I insulted them, they'd go away and I could go home and enjoy my Hitchcock marathon…alone.
Neither of them got angry like I expected. Instead, Edward just sighed softly while Jacob leaned forward in his chair and proceeded to set my rude ass straight, in a very polite and professional manner, of course.
"We're not rent boys turning tricks to feed our drug habit." He smiled to let me know that he wasn't offended by my ignorance, and then continued. "We're here to provide companionship for you for as long or as briefly as you want us tonight. If you want to spend the evening dancing, we'll take you where ever you desire to go, and we'll shake our asses off with you until dawn." He smiled crookedly, which sent my internal heat index straight through the roof. He had the most incredible smile I'd ever seen.
"If you want to go to a bar and drink margaritas until you pass out, we'll be your designated drivers, clean up any mess you make, and even tuck you into bed before we leave."
Ewwww. I was so not doing that. The idea of these two beautiful creatures cleaning up my vomit was completely unacceptable.
"Do you like Alfred Hitchcock?" I blurted out.
They looked at each other with mildly puzzled frowns and then looked back at me, blank-faced. So they weren't classic film connoisseurs, then. "Never mind," I chuckled, waving my hand in the air. "Just a random thought."
Edward took over the explanation. "What Jake is trying to tell you is that we're here to do as little or as much as you want. Leather and Lace is a full-service escort company, but of course you won't find that particular phrase anywhere in that letter." He smiled briefly, and then continued. "But please do not feel that it is mandatory that you experience the full range of our services. That's completely optional and you alone make that choice as the evening progresses."
OMFG. Edward was basically telling me that sex was available if I wanted it…or not. My decision. How could I make a decision like that? I couldn't even choose between two outfits without trying them on a hundred times!
"So, what you're saying is you provide meaningless, no-strings-attached sex if that's what I want."
Edward nodded politely. "Exactly. Or no sex at all if you prefer a completely celibate evening. You won't offend us in any way if you decide to conclude our night together without having sex. This night isn't about us, Bella. It's about you and what you want."
I thanked God in Heaven that our food arrived at that moment. We started eating and our conversation turned to safer, more insignificant topics: the quality of the beef used for the steak, the fact that the green beans were rather tasteless. Did I like the champagne? Would I like coffee and a dessert? Safe topics. No three-letter "s" words to be found.
And all the while my mind was racing furiously. What was I going to do with these two men for the rest of the night? My alter ego was screaming are you crazy? What do you mean 'what are you going to do'? Tell them yes, yes, yes! You want sex, hot meaningless sex, balls-to-the-wall sex! Tell them you just want to screw until the sun comes out tomorrow, like a horny little Orphan Annie!
The trouble was, my alter ego was nothing but a slut wannabe. She wasn't the real me. The real me had been a virgin until I'd met Mike, and we'd lasted only two short months. And the sex had sucked. Not that I'd been experienced enough to know bad sex when I had it, but at least I should have gotten some enjoyment out of it. I hadn't. No, the real me wasn't a virgin, but she might as well have been.
Dessert was done. The champagne bottle nearly full, since I'd been the only one who'd drank any. The waiter came and cleared away everything. I stared across the table at these two hot guys, silently told my alter ego to just shut the hell up, and then offered the safest suggestion that I could come up with.
"Is there someplace nice we could go dancing?"
Jacob smiled that two-thousand watt smile of his. "As a matter of fact, there's a club not far from here. Leather and Lace employees are VIP members there." He winked. "No waiting in line. Our guests get to go straight in."
I left Bossa Nova with them feeling pretty confident. Dancing was the perfect choice for me. Alice and I had spent many a weekend night dancing by ourselves to a blasting stereo and teaching each other new moves. I was pretty good and felt completely comfortable out on the dance floor. Dancing is a good idea, Bella. Dancing is harmless, right?
The 9:30 Club. Very classy and exclusive. I'd heard of it, but had never been inside. It was way out of my league, pricewise. The drinks probably cost twice more than the shoes I was wearing. Edward gave me a running commentary in my ear as we made our way inside. Basically it was a ginormous restored mansion, with a variety of dance rooms on each of the three floors. Each room played different music and you could drift from room to room according to your mood. It was dimly lit and cozy despite the vastness of the interior. From what I could see, it was filled with people but not so crowded as to feel cramped. Everyone was decked out in trendy suits and classy dresses. This was not the jeans-wearing crowd at the Boot Scootin' Boogie, which was the last dance club I'd actually spent any significant amount of time in (back when I'd learned to line dance.)
We drifted slowly through the rooms to get a feel for the different music that was being played. I heard jazz, disco, swing, hip hop and R & B. One room played only 80's music, while another was strictly 70's guitar rock.
Not only did I hear different music in each of the rooms, but also a different hand found its way to some part of my body as we progressed through the mansion. In one room, Edward's hand came to rest in the small of my back perilously close to my ass, and in another Jacob's hand brushed lightly up my back to my shoulders and then back down. In another room, Edward's fingers brushed my left hand, his touch as soft as a feather, and in still another, Jacob's fingers ran lightly up the inside of my right forearm, from my wrist to my elbow. It was strange that their hands were never on my body at the same time. It was almost like a well-choreographed dance between the two of them-a ballet of subtle touching that left my nerve endings sizzling by the time I found a room I finally wanted to stay in.
The group dancing room. Yeah! I knew it was cheesy, but I couldn't help it. I loved to dance in large groups with everybody being silly and having fun together, good dancers and klutzes alike. Edward and Jacob picked up on my excitement as soon as we walked in the room. We found a tiny table in a dark corner that appeared to be unoccupied. Suit jackets came off and now lay draped across the backs of the tiny chairs.
"I can't do this stuff!" Edward shouted over the music, shaking his head in dismay as he loosened his tie. Jacob apparently could, because he was grinning as much as I was, his eyes glued to the dance floor.
"Anybody can do this stuff!" I shouted into Edward's ear. "Just follow everyone else!"
Well, it turned out that Edward was right. He couldn't do it. He was as uncoordinated as hell, while Jacob looked like a white Michael Jackson out on the floor. The Macarena was a disaster for Edward. His arm movements were about two days behind everyone else's. I enjoyed laughing at him almost as much as I enjoyed watching Jacob swivel his hips along with the song. I had to give Jacob credit-the guy had some major moves going on.
Thankfully, Edward was a good sport about it all. The Electric Slide. Crank That Superman. Two Step. Cotton-Eye Joe. Teach Me How to Dougie. The Cha Cha Slide. He soldiered through them all with both Jacob and I laughing our asses off at his gawkiness.
Finally, we collapsed into the chairs at our tiny table to catch our breath. Edward put his fingers to both temples and shouted, "I'm getting psychic vibes that are telling me you want to go to another room! The R & B room, maybe?"
Jacob laughed and shouted across the tiny table, "Wimp!"
I felt sorry for him, so I agreed. The R & B room sounded perfect: slow dancing and the opportunity to rest.
As we worked our way through the rooms of the mansion, it suddenly occurred to me what I must look like to the people we passed: a lone girl with two men, one on each side. I might as well have stuck a sign on my chest that said: "Make way! Chick with two male hookers, coming through!"
The R & B room was packed. We scooted around the edges looking for a table, but everything was taken, and the dance floor was filled to capacity. I stared longingly at the couples all cuddled up close and swaying to the sounds of Marvin Gaye. Then I suddenly remembered the two guys who were super-glued to my sides. On second thought, it was probably a good thing the room was full. R & B was sex music, and Marvin Gaye was probably listed in the synonym dictionary under the word "fuck".
We emerged out of the crowded room and into the relative quiet of a thickly-carpeted hallway.
"What do you want to do, Bella?" Edward leaned against the wall, but it wasn't an ordinary lean. Guys like Mike did ordinary leans. Not these two. Edward leaned one shoulder against the wall, with one hand tucked into the pocket of his perfectly tailored gray slacks, knee slightly bent. His suit jacket was slung casually over his other shoulder, tie loosened and his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top. He looked like a model straight off the cover of GQ Magazine.
Jacob leaned against the wall beside him, back flat against the wallpaper, one knee bent and foot planted on the wall behind him, blue jacket slung across his shoulder and looking like an Esquire cover-boy gone bad. They were both panty-dropping gorgeous and I was spending waaay too much time looking at them.
Jacob abruptly turned his dark eyes in my direction. "You seemed to like the R & B room. Too bad it was so crowded."
"Yeah, I did like it. It's too bad," I agreed, nodding.
"We could always get a private room," Jacob suggested, with absolutely no change in his expression. I couldn't tell if this was something he wanted to do, or something he was suggesting as part of my birthday package. His face was completely neutral.
Edward ceased his beautiful sexy lean against the wall, and came to full attention. Jacob's eyes slid in his direction. Some kind of silent communication was going on between them, and I was totally out of the loop.
"That's up to Bella," he said softly, keeping his eyes focused on Jacob's face for several moments. What is going on between these two?
Then Edward turned to me and asked the question I should have been prepared for, if I was actually thinking instead of drooling all over myself. "Would you like to get a private room?"
"Uh, what exactly is a private room?"
I guess Edward could see the direction of my thoughts from the expression on my face. He chuckled softly. "A private dance room. There's no bed, just a table and chairs, fireplace, a wet bar and your own selection of music. It's for people who want a little more privacy than what's offered on a crowded dance floor. But if you're uncomfortable with the idea, we'll do something else. Remember, it's your decision, not ours."
Oh great. The decision-making thing again. I was so not good with making important decisions. My slutty alter ego, however, was excellent at it. Yes, you want privacy, Bella! Are you kidding? No curious eyes, two gorgeous men, sexy music. What's to decide? Say yes, yes, yes! This is your birthday! Live a little!
I decided to throw my alter ego a bone, so maybe she'd shut up for awhile. "Sure, that sounds nice, but as crowded as it is, are there even any available?"
Jacob stood up and away from the wall. He flashed a grin my way. "Leather and Lace has their own private dance room. It's always available. Let's go."
Jacob extended his hand, and I took it. He entwined his fingers in with mine as he led me through the halls and up the elevator to the third floor. Edward was on my other side, his hand finding a permanent home on the small of my back.
The third floor was very plush and very quiet. We walked down a long hallway until finally stopping at a beautifully carved wooden door. Jacob punched a set of numbers into the keypad above the handle. A soft click and we were in. Our very own private dance room.
Oh hell. This room was not only private, but also very intimate. It was amazing. A polished hardwood floor for dancing; luxurious carpeting along the edges of the room; a small table and chairs in one corner, fireplace and mantle in the other; heavy blue silk drapes covered the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows; a tiny wet bar in another corner with a mirror above it. Dim lights. Even some candles scattered around the room.
Thankfully there was no bed. I felt a little better as I looked around. This wasn't a place where hookers earned their twenty bucks and then checked out. This was comfortable and classy and way too small for the rolling-around-on-the-floor kind of sex. Thank God.
Both guys draped their jackets over the chairs. Jacob headed across the room to the wet bar, his head bent and looking at something I couldn't see. "Hey, they finally put in Thriller!" he exclaimed and then laughed, adding a fist pump at the end. "Yes!"
Edward groaned painfully and dropped into one of the small chairs. "I'm sorry, Bella, but we're going to have to sit through this before we can do anything else."
Before I could ask him what he meant, the sound of Michael Jackson's Thriller took over the small room, and so did Jacob. I sat with my mouth dropped open in stunned amazement as he danced the whole thing perfectly. Even the facial expressions! It was the most incredible and hilarious thing I'd ever experienced. Incredible because Jacob was an extremely good dancer, and hilarious because Edward provided his own humorous commentary about Jacob in my ear while he danced.
"Jake is a Chippendale wannabe," Edward said, laughing softly in my ear. "He can't help himself."
A picture formed in my head, a remnant from one of Alice's wild weekend ideas: Jacob nearly naked, wearing a little black speedo stuffed full of dollar bills, with his tiny black bow-tie collar and white wrist cuffs.
"I think he's adorable and would make a perfect Chippie." I giggled, which made Edward groan again.
"Bella, please. He's bad enough without any encouragement." But I noticed that Edward's remarks were good-natured. These two guys were more than just co-workers. I had a feeling they were very close friends.
Thriller finally ended. A barely out of breath Jacob joined us at the small table, him on my right, Edward on my left.
"Edward was talking about me the whole time, wasn't he?" A small grin played at his lips.
I couldn't help but laugh and confess, despite Edward's playful glare in my direction. "He said you were a Chippendale wannabe."
He jabbed a finger across the table at Edward. "Yeah, well the Chippendales would be lucky to have me. Edward's just jealous because he can't dance," he added, glancing at me.
Edward interrupted and turned to me. "Would you like something to drink? We have a full wet bar, tiny but well-stocked."
"Actually, I'd kill for an ice water, thank you."
"Make that two," Jacob piped in.
Edward got up from the table and returned with three ice waters. Boy, we were sure a partying bunch, rocking down the house with ice water and Michael Jackson.
"Nothing stronger for you guys?" I asked curiously. Neither one had touched the champagne at the restaurant.
"You can have something, but we don't drink while we're working," Edward answered.
"Not even a beer?"
He shook his head and smiled. "No, not even a beer. Drunk guys tend to get obnoxious and act stupid," he added, laughing softly. "That's not what Leather and Lace is all about. Leather and Lace is about treating a woman with tenderness and respect, and also letting her set the tone for the evening." The last line was delivered across the table, his eyes locked onto Jacob's. Something was going on again between these two, some silent conversation that I wasn't privy to.
"So, Jacob is an awesome dancer, what talents do you have, Edward?"
He looked at me strangely, and appeared to be startled by my question. When he finally answered, his voice was soft and hesitant. He seemed reluctant to talk about himself.
"I write music, and some poetry when the mood strikes me." Then he shrugged. "And I play around on the piano some."
Jacob made a loud what a load of bullshit kind of sound. "You're looking at a man who turned down a full-ride music scholarship at Juilliard. He does more than 'play around on the piano some'. When his hands touch those black & whites, grown men cry."
Edward frowned at him and then threw me a small smile. "Jacob's exaggerating. He's never cried, not even once."
"That's only because I'm not a grown man yet." He chuckled. "I'm still a kid at heart."
I couldn't help but smile. What a true statement that was. I could already tell that about Jacob Black in just the short time I'd known him.
"Just how old are you, Jacob?" He looked like a kid to me, and seemed to act like one, too. Well, maybe not a kid, but an overgrown teenager couldn't be far off the mark.
He grinned. "I'm 20, and that old man right over there-" He pointed a finger across the table at Edward. "-is 24." Then he winked at me. "I'm plenty old enough, Bella."
Plenty old enough for what? I decided I wasn't going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole, so I changed the subject.
"So, what else do you do, Jacob, besides burn up the dance floor?"
He hesitated, looked at Edward for several moments, and then directed his warm brown eyes, and his equally reluctant answer, to me. "I go to school during the day, and do this at night."
"Oh? What are you studying?" I asked curiously. I'd done a brief stint in college and had quickly realized it wasn't for me. I admired people who had the stick-to-itiveness to graduate with a degree.
Jacob hesitated too long, so Edward eagerly jumped right in to fill the void. "He's studying to be a structural engineer. Our very own Mr. Dancing-With-the-Stars is a closet genius when it comes to math and physics. You should see the Lego monstrosity he's built in his spare bedroom."
He glared at Edward, but there wasn't a bit of anger in it. "See? There you go again. You're ruining my reputation as a handsome and carefree gigolo."
Edward and I both laughed at that one. But in my eyes, the fact that Jacob was smart as well as handsome only made him that much more appealing, and the thought of Edward's long, thin fingers moving gracefully across piano keys sent chills down my spine.
"So why did you turn down Juilliard?" I asked, turning back to Edward.
Edward got really quiet. Jacob suddenly took a deep interest in the bottom of his glass. Uh oh. I'd evidently touched a nerve.
Without answering, Edward changed the subject. "That's enough about us. Tell us about you. What fills up the hours of your day?"
I laughed nervously, embarrassed at the thought of telling these two outrageously talented guys just how humdrum my life really was. "I work in an office. It's rather mundane and monotonous, actually."
No reaction. Both sets of those bedroom eyes, Edward's blue/gray ones and Jacob's dark browns, were focused squarely on me, waiting patiently for me to elaborate.
"I went to college for awhile. That's where I met my best friend, Alice. She's the one who arranged all of this, by the way," I added. "I took Sleeping Late 101 and Partying 102, among other things." I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. I knew I had to sound completely superficial and silly to both of them.
"Damn, I like the sound of your major." Jacob laughed. "Maybe I'm in the wrong field."
"No, you're not in the wrong field. I dropped out after one semester. Truth is guys, I don't know what I want to do with my life. I'm sort of in limbo right now. Frankly, I'd rather hear about you two. My life is completely boring."
Edward shook his head and guffawed softly. "Bella, I stare off into space for hours at a time listening to my muse, and Michael Jackson over there plays with little multi-colored plastic blocks in his spare time. Now, that's what's commonly referred to as boring."
We all laughed at that one.
"So, are you in a relationship?" Edward asked out of the blue. I noticed Jacob's eyes dart sharply in his direction. Edward's eyes flicked to his and then slid quickly back to my face. Another silent conversation.
"Uhm…no," I answered without elaborating, wondering which one I should look at, since they were both staring a hole in my face.
"So, you're solo?" Jacob this time.
"Yeah, solo and loving it," I said, trying to insert a little I am woman, hear me roar into my voice and not sure if I was succeeding.
"What did he do wrong?" Jacob asked softly. I glanced at Edward, and he, just like Jacob, was hanging on my every word. "I mean, he couldn't have been the one to do the leaving. Not with a beautiful girl like you."
Edward's eyes shot to Jacob's again. Jacob raised an eyebrow and then turned his attention back to me.
I let the 'beautiful' part slide, because I wasn't sure what to do at this point. I'd always heard to never talk about your exes on a date but, of course, this wasn't an ordinary date. These guys couldn't just up and walk out on me unless I gave the word. So, technically I could bash Mike all night long if I wanted to. Guilt free.
My alter ego rose up with a great silent roar of femi-nazi outrage. Yeah, tell them what a slob he was, Bella! Tell them how he never took you anywhere nice, or complimented you on your appearance; how he never helped out around the apartment and watched television 24/7; how he never wiped his feet, and would hang out with his buddies for hours, but wouldn't even watch a two-hour romantic movie with you! Tell them how he made fun of everything that gave you pleasure! You tell 'em, girlfriend!
Instead, I said, "The sex sucked."
Holy shit. Did that just come out of my mouth?
Their reaction was immediate. Edward's lips parted just a little, almost like he was about to let his jaw drop open, but then caught himself in time and closed them. Jacob's dark eyes narrowed. He sat back in his chair without taking his eyes off of my face.
"That's just wrong," he said softly. Edward remained strangely silent as Jacob elaborated. "There's no excuse for that shit. A guy like that should be taken out, stood up against a wall and shot."
I laughed because I thought he was making a joke, but neither one of them joined me. OMG, he was serious.
"It's not that big of a deal, Jacob," I said, trying to lighten things up.
"The hell it isn't," he said, his voice low and intense, his eyes dark.
"Jake…" Edward issued a soft command across the table along with a lot of glaring eye contact. They had the silent convo thing going again and I was beginning to wonder if I should just call a halt to this whole thing and just be done with it. It wasn't like we were actually doing any dancing.
Then Edward smiled crookedly in my direction and the mood in the room shifted. He chuckled softly. "You have to overlook him. He has this ridiculous notion that he can save the world one orgasm at a time."
After I got over the shock at hearing the "O" word from those luscious lips, I had to laugh. Edward joined me, and finally Jacob lightened up and laughed, as well.
"Very funny, Edward," Jacob acknowledged snidely, but with a grin. "Actually I have a theory on that. Care to hear it?" He'd directed his question to me.
"Sure." I shrugged and smiled.
Jacob tugged his napkin out from underneath his glass. He asked if I had a pen in my purse, which I did. I dug it out and handed it to him. Our fingers brushed together briefly as he took it. I flushed. He smiled but didn't say anything. Instead he began scribbling on the napkin. When he was finished, he pushed the napkin in my direction. It read:
HQ = (A + S)O
R
I stared down at the mathematical formula while he waited for a reaction. I wracked my brain and tried to pull one of those long-lost formulas from algebra class out of the cobwebby recesses they were hiding in. I came up with nothing. I pushed it over to Edward. He looked at it and frowned, glancing over at Jacob with a strange expression on his face.
"I suck at math." Edward chuckled and pushed it back to me.
"So do I." I pushed it the rest of the way back to Jacob.
He shook his head and laughed to himself. "Then let me explain. I have a theory about why so many bad things happen in the world: war, depression, people killing themselves and killing everyone around them. It's because too many people have low Happiness Quotients. That's the 'HQ' part of the equation-the solution."
My What in the hell are you talking about? expression spurred him on. He began to explain his "Happiness Quotient" equation in detail. He scooted in close to the table and grabbed hold of my skeptical eyes with his.
"Okay, this is what I think. Everyone has what I call a "Happiness Quotient". It's a number that represents how content they are with their lives. All these people who commit crimes—rob, kill, beat their wives, et cetera- have verrrry low HQ numbers."
"And that equation is how you arrive at that number?" I wasn't completely dumb. I'd come out of algebra class with a very respectable low "D".
Jacob grinned. "Exactly! Now, let's figure out your HQ number." I didn't even have time to object before he started throwing mathematical questions at me. I glanced over at Edward. He gave me a miniscule shake of his head and a small dismayed smile. Good. He was clueless, too.
"First you take your age, then you add to that how many years you've been sexually active. Got that?"
I nodded as I did the kindergarten calculations in my head. HQ = (21 + 1) = 22
"Now, you multiply that answer by the number of orgasms you've had…with another person. Double clicking your own mouse doesn't count, by the way," he added, chuckling. I sputtered with laughter. Edward was shaking his head in disbelief, but still added his own quiet laugh to mine. "And if you can't come up with an exact number, just estimate."
This was the easiest math problem I'd ever done. I'd never had an orgasm with another person because Mike was my first and he hadn't cared whether I'd enjoyed it or not. HQ = 22 x 0 = 0
"Now, take that answer and divide it by the number of different partners you've had, and you've got your Happiness Quotient."
Number of partners? One. Mike Newton. HQ = 0 1 = 0. My Happiness Quotient was zero.
"So…?" Jacob waited expectantly for my answer. Edward gave me a small I'm sorry you have to go through this smile, similar to the Thriller one of before. I should have smiled back, but instead I wanted to crawl under the table again.
Suddenly I remembered who I was. I was Bella Swan, a twenty-one year old "virgin" whose idea of good sex was, as Jacob had so humorously put it, double-clicking my own mouse. I was way out of my league with these two beautiful, and very experienced, men. Jacob was a year younger than me, but that dark-eyed man candy might as well have been ten years older. And Edward…Edward with his pale bedroom eyes, his long, slim fingers and those GQ looks was so far out of my league that we weren't even in the same universe, let alone ballpark.
"Bella?" Jacob asked again, waiting for me to provide my HQ number.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Zero," I answered softly, watching for their reaction.
They had the eye thing going again. Edward shot a look at Jacob and Jacob shot one back at him. Jacob blinked a couple of times and then turned to me.
"Could you excuse us for a moment? Edward and I have to go change into our superhero costumes…immediately." Then he grinned, all white teeth and those dark laughing eyes.
"Superhero costumes?" I asked, laughing.
"Go ahead and laugh," he said, nodding all smugly. "But the truth is that Edward and I are actually HQ Superheros in disguise. We're raising Happiness Quotients all over the world, one "O" at a time."
Edward was looking at Jacob like he was some lump of alien glob that had dropped out of the sky from Jupiter and he was trying to figure out what it was. I, on the other hand, was trying my darndest not to laugh my ass off right in his sweet, gorgeous face.
"Jacob, I hope that's not your pick-up line, because it's so lame. Seriously, dude." I chuckled. "It's pretty bad."
"Aren't you even curious about our costumes?" he asked, his voice filled with mock pain and hurt feelings.
"I'm sure they're very manly," I said, grinning.
"Mine is all black: black tights, black body suit, except I don't need one of those molded six-packs. Unlike Edward, I like to work out, so I have the real thing. He has to wear one of those plastic things to look buff. Oh and his outfit is pink. Just picture the Pink Panther all buffed out and that's Edward's costume."
Edward shook his head and laughed in dismay. "You see what I have to work with, Bella?"
I looked at both of them and finally figured out what was going on. These two were good. They had this Let's make the nervous client feel comfortable routine down pat. I wondered how many women they'd laid that superhero story on.
"This is a really smooth operation two have got going on. You're good." I smiled, shaking my head at how wet behind the ears I really was, and how non-operational my bullshit detector was.
Edward frowned. "I assure you that tonight is the first time I've ever heard of a Happiness Quotient. He pulls this kind of nonsense out of his ass all the time."
I glanced at Jacob and he was grinning mischievously. Yeah, I could see how Jacob was most likely full up to his eyeballs with bullshit, and right now he was completely adorable, completely gorgeous, and sexy as hell.
"Do you really think I'd willingly be a part of anything that had me wearing pink tights and a pink body suit?" Edward laughed softly.
His pale eyes settled on mine. We stared at each other for a few moments, and then he smiled. He wasn't smiling at Jacob, or in response to some comment that had been made. No. Edward Cullen was smiling at me. Bella Swan. At that very moment, I finally understood what all the fuss about global warming was about, because Edward Cullen had just set my whole world on fire with those eyes and that smile.
Edward. "What Jacob is trying to tell you is that we can fix this."
OMG. My hooha went haywire at just the sound of his soft, velvet voice.
Jacob. "We can raise your HQ number substantially…tonight. If you'll let us."
Edward. "It's what we do. It's what we're good at."
Jacob smiled and winked. "One orgasm at a time…"
My eyes were bouncing back and forth between them. I felt like a bewildered spectator at a pornographic tennis match.
"Is there a bathroom in here?" I had to get away from these two and their mesmerizing bedroom eyes so I could clear my head and think.
Edward nodded his head toward a corner of the small room. "Over there." As I got up from the table, Edward raised his eyes to mine. "Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere."
Three long strides and I was safe inside the tiny bathroom. Door locked, faucet turned on full blast, not only to cover up the sound of me peeing, but also to keep them from hearing me in case I suddenly got the urge to have a very loud nervous breakdown. I looked into the mirror and wondered what these two men could possibly see in me. My alter ego provided the answer. She always had the answers to everything.
They think you're hot, Bella! Neither one of them have been able to keep their eyes off of you all night. They feel you up every chance they get. They've been flirting their asses off since the beginning. You're fucking turning them on, so just stop with the doubts and get back out there!
"They're paid to do this, you idiot!" I hissed softly back at my alter ego. "Of course, I'm the most beautiful girl in the world because their pockets are full of Alice's money."
These men don't care about the money. Look at them, Bella! They're fucking-ass beautiful. They're doing this because they LIKE it. They're Grade A Number One Prime studs in heat, girl. Get back out there and ride their horny asses until they collapse from exhaustion!
"I don't have sex with strange men," I told myself. "I was raised to be a good girl, not a slut. I don't do stuff like this. It's not right."
Geez…they're not strange men. You've known them long enough. It's not as if you stopped your car alongside them on the street and told them to hop in. They're nice, they're hot and you KNOW it. Get out there, RIGHT NOW and start swinging from those flag poles. Live a little! You're twenty-one, for shit's sake!
"Unprotected sex is stupid. It's crazy. I don't know anything about these two men," I argued softly at myself in the mirror.
Uh…ever heard of condoms? Edward probably has another envelope in that suit filled to the brim with prophylactics. And remember 'Medically screened and drug free'? These guys are safe, Bella. Good, clean, disease-free sex with no strings attached. I can't believe you're in here arguing with ME when you could be out there getting your oil changed by two of the hottest mechanics you're ever laid eyes on!
"Oh god…" I whined softly. I was caving. My alter ego was a strong bitch when she wanted to be. She was wearing me down fast.
Bella, you know you want this. This is the best birthday present anyone has ever given you. You want it. You're so curious about them. Admit it! You want to see both of them naked. You want both of their cocks buried deep inside of you. You want them-one at a time, both at the same time. You want to fuck them both, Bella.
"Oh god, you are such a slut!" I hissed at my alter ego. She was also right. I wanted both of them, bad. My panties were already soaked and plastered to my body. I growled softly and shimmied them off. They plopped on the floor and I kicked them into the corner.
Hahahahaha! You go, girl! Now that's what I'm talking about! One of those boys is going to get the surprise of his life when his fingers hit that naked pussy.
I ignored my vulgar-mouthed alter ego, and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair looked good, a little mussed but that was how I wore it. The slight bit of makeup I'd applied was still intact. Eyeliner? Good. Mascara? No smudges. Lipstick? Gone. I dug out my stick and swiped a couple of times across both lips, popped them together and I was good to go.
"I'm just going to treat this as a business thing. They've been hired to entertain me, so I'm going to let them. It's just business, Bella. Just business. Let them do what they're good at, so they'll walk away tonight with some job satisfaction. Then go home and get on with your life."
That's my girl…
I smiled at the mirror.
"Meaningless sex. That's all this is…"
EDWARD…
As soon as Bella locked the bathroom door behind her, I turned on Jake. "Well, this evening is turning out to be one big clusterfuck." I practically hissed at him across the table like a pissed off snake.
He chuckled softly. "Not yet, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed."
"How many rules have you broken, Jake?"
He flashed his dark eyes at me as his temper started to rise. "You started this, Edward. You were fondling her ass almost as soon as we walked in the door. So don't be blaming me."
"I wasn't fondling her ass. It was a gentleman's hand to the small of the back."
"Sure, sure." Jake laughed softly. "Her ass is awfully high up on her back then. Just sayin'…"
"You should have never suggested this room. That was way out of line. She wouldn't have even thought of this if you hadn't brought it up. You broke Rule #1 with that one: the client calls all the shots, or as you call it, Chicks Before Dicks. Remember that little rule?"
Jacob leaned in and glared at me. "Stop with the bullshit blame game. We both fucked this one up. We're both to blame, okay? Both of us."
He was right, and I hated it when Jacob Black was right. I'd started it all with my wandering hand, and he'd just followed my lead. I'd been doing this gig a lot longer than he had and for some reason, I'd fucked this one up royally.
"Edward, come on. Don't beat yourself up. She's different," he said. "She's sweet, innocent. How long has it been since we've had a client like her? That's why we're so fucked up. We want her, man. This one's not just a job, and you know it. Bella's one of the good girls and we have to do this thing right, and it's going to take both of us working together to do that. We don't need to be jumping in each other's shit right now."
"We may have overplayed our hand, though. I think we scared her off," I said.
Jacob grinned that cocky-ass grin of his. "I don't think so. She wants us as much as we want her. She's just a little shy. Shy girls take a little more work, but they're worth it." He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.
And of course, he was right again. She'd been sending off signals all night, even though I was sure she wasn't aware of doing it. She wasn't a slut, not even close. The girl was just so damned beautiful. It was hard for me to imagine a guy not caring enough about her to satisfy her in bed. So, if Bella came out of that bathroom wanting sex, then Jacob and I were going to do our jobs and then some. We'd deliver the goods. If she wanted things to end right here, then we'd drag our blue balls home and spend the night getting to know ourselves better.
At that moment, the door to the bathroom opened. Both of us silently watched her walk across the small room and take her seat next to us.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She smiled in response to my question, such a beautiful, sincere smile. Jake was right. Bella was different, and because of that she was going to get more than her friend had paid for. That is, if she'd let us.
"I'm fine, Edward. Actually, I think I'd like to dance." She turned to Jacob. "Do you have any Marvin Gaye in this place?"
Jacob smiled. "I'm sure we do." He crossed the room to the sound system. "Any special song?" he asked over his shoulder.
Bella looked back at me. Her warm cocoa eyes were so sultry. She'd applied fresh lipstick and all I wanted to do was just suck every bit of it off her mouth. This girl was seriously shorting out every one of my male circuits and she wasn't even trying.
"Sexual Healing," she answered softly.
Oh fuuuuck… My cock punched hard against my slacks. I fought the groan that was trying to come up out of my throat.
Jacob returned to the table. Their eyes met. "Nice song," he said quietly. "Appropriate. I set it to loop."
Jacob had his bad-boy smolder going, a skill I'd never been able to master. I was too pale to pull it off. He could get a woman's panties off with that look faster than I could blink. I had a feeling that Bella's were most likely soaked completely through by now, and just that thought alone sent another surge of blood straight to my cock.
But to my surprise, she turned back to me.
"Would you like to dance, Edward?"
I glanced at Jacob. He winked and gave me an infinitesimal nod. He was going to let me go first for once.
"I'd love to."