ENTRY FOR THE CURVACEOUS AND BODACIOUS BOMBSHELL FIC CONTEST
Story Name: Words of a Stranger
Penname: MaddeningLove
Rating: M
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Pairing: Jasper/Bella
Total Word Count: 9326
Summary: A friendship blossoms by chance, built on letters exchanged from half a world away. When life gives them the opportunity for more, Jasper must decide if he can let go of the image he'd created and embrace the real woman who's captured his heart.
A/N: My thanks go out to the hosts of this contest for inspiring me to create. Additional thanks to my sweet lovey for lending her beta skills. I hope you enjoy!
It's hot in the desert, all the fucking time, but at least the air isn't sticky and thick like Texas. Not to knock my Home-Sweet-Home, because I'd much rather be there than here, but that's not an option right now.
It's my second tour. The first, like most of us, was to Iraq. Now we're in Afghanistan. This desert life just began, and we've got nine more months to go before we'll see American soil again.
Honestly, I'm proud to be here. My father was a Marine too, I have uncles and cousin who have served in every branch of the military, and the Whitlock family can trace service in every war, all the way back to my namesake, Major Jasper Chance Whitlock of the Confederate Army. But regardless of my heritage, I'm still a million miles away from home. Or at least it feels that far sometimes. It probably wouldn't be as cumbersome if my heart hadn't been ripped out before I left.
I'd met Alice only a few months before my first deployment. She'd been in college near my base, and she caught my eye shaking her ass out on the dance floor at some bar. She was giggly and spirited, and she seemed like just the thing I needed. When I approached her to see if I could join in to her little groove, she said something ridiculous and so completely Alice about how I'd kept her waiting.
We'd shared a whirlwind romance from there. Whenever she wasn't busy with school and I wasn't on duty, we were together. God, did that girl make me laugh. She was little and cute and charming, and I was a fool in love almost instantly. Being in the Marines could skew your perspective on relationships, considering all the guys my age and younger who were already married and having babies, so I realize that may have added to my attachment to her. I didn't want to rush into anything, but I thrived on her affection; it was a complete escape from my day to day life and the commitment I'd made to my country.
Like I said, we'd only met a short time before I got sent overseas. We stayed together, toughed it out while we were apart, and thankfully, I was at my same base upon returning six months later. For five months, we were back together. Our relationship grew and we just kept on, but I could see our differences a little clearer after all those months of separation. We were only a year apart in age, but our lives were in completely different places. Still, I stuck it out and tried to keep her happy.
Apparently, it wasn't enough. When we found out I'd be going to Afghanistan, Alice hadn't reacted well. She'd become withdrawn but eventually seemed to deal a little better. Unfortunately, I learned that her way of dealing was accepting that our relationship had to end, and so she ended it.
I hadn't quite accepted it, though . . . even close to four months later.
I hated being without her after all that time. I hated being single and heartbroken because it made me weak and pathetic. I hated being jealous of all my married friends, especially when I knew how much more difficult they had it leaving their families – pregnant wives in several cases.
But I was a selfish, lonely prick. I just hoped this time would be an opportunity to focus on our mission here, separate myself from everything that had happened back home, and finally move on.
.
"Good night, Valesquez." I sidestepped and set my sights on sleep, the only thing I wanted tonight.
"You sure about that, Whitlock? I guarantee it'd be fun." Maria's voice was low and seductive, but I just shook my head and walked away.
There was no doubt that Maria was sexy and tempting. There were a few females here with us, and I truly respected them just as much as all the other guys, but I'd seen too many messy situations with relationships developing under these kinds of circumstances. Not to mention, Maria and I got along great, as friends, but I'd known her long enough to see that she was a live wire. There was no way in hell I wanted get myself into something when we'd be stuck in close quarters for eight more months if it went sour.
I was doing a little better in regards to Alice, but I wasn't ready to start fucking around with someone else.
.
The next day, one of my buddies came around with a big box. Care packages arrived from time to time, usually from elementary school kids or some community group. They were sweet and didn't go unappreciated, ever. This one, however, was something different. McCarty's sister and some of her friends had put this one together. I learned that Emmett had given her all our names, so in addition to the treats, gourmet coffee, and magazines, there were personalized letters. It's not like any of them knew us, but it was a thoughtful gesture. I look the envelope with my name on it and tucked it into my pocket.
It wasn't until I was getting ready to shower that night that I found the letter again. I'd completely forgotten about it, honestly, but there it was, still waiting. Exhausted, I set it aside and it didn't turn up again for three more days until I had a half day off. Not wanting the effort to be taken for granted, I opened the little envelope and pulled out a sheet of pale blue stationery paper and began to read. The first thing I noticed was the pretty cursive writing. What is it about nice handwriting? There's just something soothing and pleasant about reading it. I'm not sure why, but it made my lips curl into a small smile before I'd even gotten past the greeting. I had no idea who had written the letter to me, but she seemed quite sweet.
"Hello, Jasper.
Can I call you by your first name or am I supposed to be using your last name and rank? Or is that just for between you guys? I really have no idea. I think it's weird calling people by their last name, and the fact that I find it weird is actually kind of weird because my dad is a police officer, and I've grown up with everyone calling him Chief Swan.
Wow, I'm babbling. Sorry about that, but this is in pen and I don't feel like starting over and wasting paper.
Right, so for the sake of this occasion, I'm going to call you Jasper. I hope you don't mind :) Anyway, I'm Izzy. Assuming you know Emmett McCarty, his sister Jessica is a friend of mine. Emmett's a really funny guy. I hope the Marines haven't taken away his sense of humor. If he's not a joker anymore, please tell him to loosen up and have some fun every once in a while.
There I go again, talking about nonsense. I'm supposed to be writing to you, though I'm not really sure what to say. You'll probably never have time to write back, which I totally wouldn't expect you to anyway, so I won't ask any questions. I guess I'll just say thank you for what you're doing. I can't imagine what it must be like to be in your position, where you are, risking your life every day. I think anyone who can be in the military or law enforcement or a fire fighter must be so brave. I can't even donate blood because the sight alone of needles makes me want to vomit. I'm an organ donor, though. That's only because I won't know the difference then, you know? And forget tattoos and piercing. Yikes. The only reason my ears are pierced is because my mom did it when I was a baby. I really like them on other people, though.
God, you must think I'm so strange by this point. I keep going back and reading what I've written you, and I seem like a lunatic. I promise I'm not. Just . . . I'm just me :) I'm a graduate student who reads more novels than the text books I should be reading, loves riding my bike through the dog park even though I don't have a dog, and pretends to be a photographer when time allows.
I guess I'll go now, but I hope this letter finds you well. And that you don't think it was a waste of your time.
Izzy"
I found myself smiling as I read her name at the bottom of the letter. She seemed scattered brained, but I enjoyed her thoughts. I didn't know why, but I wanted to write her back. Maybe just to say thank you for making me smile. Things had sucked for a while for me, but she'd brought a little sunshine to my day. The figurative kind, of course; I had enough of the real thing here in the desert.
.
When I finally had some free time again, I decided I wanted to reply to Izzy. With a pen in hand, I thought about what I should say. If nothing else, I wanted her to know I was grateful for how thoughtful she had been. As I scribbled something out, I nodded to myself. It was short, but it got my point across.
"Izzy,
First things first, thanks for your letter and the package you girls put together for us. Things here can get a little monotonous sometimes, so little surprises like that are always great. As far as the name goes, Jasper is fine with me. I get called Whitlock all day and all night, and sometimes it's nice to just be Jasper, like it is with my family and friends back home. Which is in Texas. Just thought I'd mention that.
What are you studying in grad school?
Take care,
Jasper"
It wasn't much, but it was something. I didn't really expect her to write again.
She did, though.
And so it began. Izzy and I became pen pals, exchanging our letters two or three times a month. The only other person I heard from that much was my mom, and I was definitely able to write a little more freely with Izzy. Mom worried all the time, but her letters were filled with love. The correspondence with Izzy felt more like when I was in sixth grade and my English teacher connected us to some school in Japan, and we exchanged letters with those students a few times. With Izzy, we told each other about our childhood and little bits and pieces of our everyday lives. I did throw in some details about Emmett, though, considering her affection for him.
Not knowing anything about her, other than what we shared in our handwritten letters, I imagined her to look like the character Izzy on Grey's Anatomy – tall and slender, pretty, smart. I learned that she had double majored in psychology and sociology in college and was in a program to become a school counselor. She didn't really know if that's what she wanted to do because as practical of a career as it would be, she said her real passion was her photography. It was a hobby, she said, but when I asked her to send me some of her photos, they were beautiful. She took abstracts, portraits, and candids, and the few she sent were pressed between the pages of my favorite book, along with all the letters she'd written me.
By the last month of our assignment I felt like we'd become friends . . . but I still really didn't know her. And now that I was heading back to the States, I didn't know where that left us. Keep being pen pals?
It turned out I didn't have the opportunity to worry about it. In my last letter, I made sure to thank Izzy for being my friend while I was away and again told her how much I appreciated her thoughtfulness and everything she'd shared with me. That was all I got to say because post-deployment debriefings lasted for weeks, and then a group of us were informed that we were being transferred from our base in California to South Carolina. Picking up and moving from one side of the country to the other was overwhelming in and of itself, but with new assignments to go with the location and command change, everything about my life was wrapped around my job.
It felt like years before everything had settled down and I could finally relax again. In truth it had been four months. I got back into the swing of life, made new friends around base, and started to feel at home. It was nice to have some of the same guys there with me, and that included Emmett. He came to my room in the barracks one night, filling the entire doorway with his massive body.
"Four days off next weekend, bro."
"I know it. We haven't had time off like that in . . . well, since before the sandbox."
"I got plans for us, so pack your bags."
"What's that?" I asked. Packing bags meant going somewhere, and being right on the coast, just outside Hilton Head, could mean practically anything.
"My sister lives a few hours away from here," he explained.
"The one who did the care packages?"
"Yep, Jess," he nodded.
It wasn't the first time I'd thought of Izzy since coming home, but the mention of Jessica and the letters from her friends brought something back to me. A feeling. A lot of feelings.
"Umm, sure. That's cool," I sputtered out.
If we were going where Jessica lived, unless something had changed in the past few months, that meant we were going where Izzy was as well. I'd never thought I could actually meet her. Because of our circumstances, it had never seemed a possibility, so I never let my thoughts drift beyond it. Now, that was unavoidable. Pictures of a tall, pretty blonde filled my head. I imagined her blue eyes and homecoming queen smile. I thought about walking into Jessica's home with Emmett, making eye contact with her for the first time and just knowing each other – even though we had never shared pictures of ourselves with one another.
Well, shit, I had feelings for my pen pal girl.
A girl I had never met, never seen, and whose voice I had never even heard. It was irrational and a little scary, but at the same time, the thought of meeting Izzy had turned my mind upside down. My expectations were too high. There was so much at risk. I wondered if she had felt something like this or if it had only been a nice gesture to keep in touch with me while I was deployed. She had studied psychology; what if she was just sympathetic for my situation, understanding that I was a single guy in the middle of God's sandbox, sacrificing my personal wellbeing . . .
After all, her letters had stopped after my final one before coming back to the States. Maybe she thought I didn't need her anymore. Maybe she didn't care.
That just made me feel sick. But it didn't change that fact that I was going to visit Jessica with Emmett, and there was a chance I'd meet Izzy.
.
"Dude, you look like crap and you've barely said a thing this whole trip. You all right?"
I looked over at Emmett from the passenger seat of his Camaro and shrugged. "I'm cool. Just not used to not working, ya know?"
"Well, buck up, buddy," he said in his always-chipper Emmett sort of way. "We have the next three and a half days to kick back, drink some brews, and hang out with some chicks. Enjoy the break; you work too hard. Harder than anyone else I know."
"I hear you, man. I'm sure I'll chill out once we get there."
"Well, that's good, Whitlock, 'cause we're here."
I look a deep breath and looked around the neighborhood we were pulling up to. It wasn't a subdivision, so that was an obvious sign that the houses around here were older, but nothing was in bad shape. It was the kind of place I would have expected students to live.
I gave Emmett a halfhearted smile. "Can I just be Jasper this weekend? I'll be Jas and you can be Em, and we can leave all the other shit back on base, okay?"
"Excellent plan, Jas. Excellent plan."
.
We met Jessica and one of her roommates, Lauren, when we arrived. The other girl, Angela, got back from her class a little while later and they explained that she was going to stay in Lauren's room while we were there so Em and I could use hers. She had a bed and a futon in there, and we thanked her for the hospitality. It was really nice, considering that I would've gladly taken the couch or even the living room floor, but they insisted. The girls were all sweet, but I could see the party girls hiding behind their studious, serious demeanor. The first night, we just hung out, ordering pizzas, watching basketball on the TV, and drinking together. It was fun and laid back, and I was already feeling much better by the time we hit the sack.
The next day I woke up late in the morning, surprised that my body, used to rising at the crack of dawn every day, had stayed asleep for so long. Emmett was rubbing his eyes and stumbling around the room. I watched him dig into his bag and pull out a pair of shorts.
"Mornin'," he yawned before heading for the shower.
Jessica took us out to lunch and then for a driving tour of their town and campus, then it was a stop at the grocery store for everything we needed for the barbeque they'd planned. The late spring weather was perfect, and we spent the next couple hours getting everything ready as people started to trickle in. Emmett and I worked on everything outside with a few other guys who had shown up, setting up tables and chairs, filling coolers with ice and beer, prepping the grill, and getting the music going. The girls were in charge of food, and it wasn't long before everything came together and the party had begun.
As everyone hung out, I met a lot of people. Mike, Tyler, Katie, Maggie, Angela's boyfriend Ben, Jane, Vicky, and a slew of others whose names I couldn't remember. Around dusk, Emmett's sister walked toward me, arm in arm with another girl.
"Hey, Jess. I'm having a great time. Thanks again for having us."
"My pleasure, Jasper," she said with a smile. "I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Bella. Bella, Jasper. Jasper, Bella."
"Nice to meet you, Bella," I said, holding my hand out to shake hers.
I watched Jessica look at Bella, her eyebrows raised, before she mentioned needing to check on the food and took off, leaving me and Bella alone.
"You just get here?" I asked.
"Yeah. I had to work."
She had a nice smile. Seemed like a nice girl. She was about the same height as Jess but had a bigger build. She wasn't what I'd call chunky or anything, just a little thick. Big tits, round ass, thighs like a softball player or a dancer. Long dark hair, soft brown eyes, a little beauty mark on her face. Like all of Jessica's friends seemed to be, she was nice looking. I was slightly surprised by that. Not that this particular girl stood out, but more that all of them were cute.
Hey, I wasn't complaining.
"Need a drink?" I offered, gesturing toward a nearby cooler.
"Yeah, any Red Stripe left?" she asked, tipping her chin toward the wide bottle in my hand.
I smiled at that. "Since you have such good taste, I'll share my secret stash with you." I winked, leading the way around the side of the house. Behind a bush, I had hidden a smaller cooler.
Bella's face flushed when she saw me reach back to pull a beer out for her. "Oh, no! Jasper, you don't have to give me one if you bought them for yourself. I'll just grab a Miller or something. No big deal."
"Bella," I said, pulling out my keychain to pop the cap off for her, "it's really not a big deal."
She took the beer and smiled at me, darting her eyes down toward the ground. "Well, thanks. Cheers?"
I tapped my bottle against hers and took a sip.
Just as we rounded the corner of the house back to the party, Emmett spotted us and came barreling over. "Bella!" he yelled, grabbing her beer and forcing it into my hand before picking her up and twirling her around. "Baby! Where have you been?"
I watched Bella giggle as Emmett continued to swing her around. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, clinging and hugging him. In Emmett's arms, she seemed so small, so unlike my initial comparison of her to Jess. She was just any other sweet girl, laughing happily with a friend.
"Okay, put me down now, you beast. I have a beer to drink," she told him.
Once she was back on her feet, Emmett hugged her more gently and took her face in his hands. He smiled affectionately at her and kissed her forehead. I handed Bella her beer and looked at both of them.
"Flip cup time," Emmett said simply, directing us toward a long table a group of people had gathered around. "Let's do this."
As the night wore on, the drinking, laughter, conversations, and fun continued. Jessica and all her friends were a lot of fun, and I talked to many of them, including a bit more with Bella. We got along well enough that I didn't mind sharing my Red Stripe with her. At some late hour, the crowd dwindled and everyone said their goodbyes before passing out. Bella lingered, and like everyone else, I gave her a hug and went to sleep.
.
In the morning, I took a quick shower and headed outside to start cleaning up. The remains of the party really weren't that bad, but it still had to be done. I sorted cups and plates into garbage bags and tossed cans and bottles from the drinks into the recycling bin. A few trays of food had been left out and needed to be pitched, but I figured the ketchup and mustard would be salvageable.
"Hey, what are you doing up so early?" I heard from somewhere behind me. I turned to see Bella standing by the backdoor in sweatpants and a tank top with her hair in a messy ponytail. I swear I didn't stare at her chest.
"Not used to sleeping in, so I thought I'd make myself useful. You?"
"Same, I guess." She smiled and started stacking lawn chairs against the side of the house. We worked in silence for a few minutes until Bella said, "So how've things been since you got home? Umm, Emmett was saying you guys got transferred. Obviously, or you wouldn't be here."
"Oh yeah, it's been all right. Busy, you know? But that's the life we lead, I guess."
"Will they send you away again?" she asked.
I paused. "Not sure. I know people who have gone on four and five tours. It just depends, but as of right now, we're here indefinitely."
"Is it hard being gone like that? I think I'd be lonely." Her eyes looked sad, but there was something else in the way she looked at me I couldn't quite place.
I tied a couple trash bags closed and hefted them toward the garbage bin. "It was hard at times, but we're like a family when we're out there, you know?" I was quiet for a minute, thinking of the other company I had on that last tour. "And I was lucky. I got more mail than most of the other people there."
"Family?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "And a friend. It helped. You can always reread letters, you know?"
"That . . . sounds nice."
"It was," I agreed.
"Was?" she asked, looking thoughtful.
"Umm, I guess we lost touch since I got home. I don't know why."
Bella nodded again, then turned away, stacking up the last of the empty food trays and plates and carrying them toward the house. From her expression, I had expected her to say something else, but she didn't.
That was the last I saw her that weekend.
.
I took the job of driving home since Emmett had done so on the way to Jessica's. It's really torturous driving his Camaro.
Heh.
About halfway home Emmett woke from a catnap and fiddled with the music. I'd had nothing to do but think the entire drive, so I braced myself to ask him something.
"Hey, Em, do you know anything about Jess's friend Izzy?"
"Izzy?"
"Yeah. She was the one who wrote to me when we were in Afghanistan. We actually kept in touch that whole time."
Emmett looked pale as he processed what I told him.
"What?"
"Do you still talk to her?"
"No. I haven't heard anything from her since before we came home," I explained.
"Wow."
"What? Would you just explain, please?" I felt like I was begging.
Emmett shook his head, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Dude, the only Izzy I know would be Isabella. As in, Bella."
"No way! No!" My mind went crazy, putting what he said together. Izzy is supposed to be a sexy blonde doctor/model type. She's cute and she babbles and makes me smile. Bella was confident and subtly flirty, and absolutely nothing like what I imagined. "It has to be someone different."
"Fuck you, dude. What's wrong with Bella? That girl is awesome."
"Em, I'm not saying I didn't like her, but . . . if she's who I wrote all those letters to, why the hell wouldn't she say something when your sister introduced us? Or in all the other time we hung out? And why would she have told me her name was Izzy? Does everyone call her Bella?"
"As long as I've known her."
"Fuck . . ."
"I swear to God, Jas, if you upset or hurt Bella in any way, I will wreck you."
All I could do was gape at him. "She's the one who lied to me."
"Don't care. That girl is like another sister to me."
I had a lot to think about.
.
Okay, before going to Jessica's, I had come to grips with the fact that I had feelings for Izzy. I had wanted to meet her, to see what she was like in person. I had wanted to see if there was something between us or if we'd only be friends.
Now I'd met her. I didn't realize it until after the fact, but I had. She was pretty much the opposite of the Izzy I had conjured up in my brain, but that wasn't a bad thing. I'd said myself that she had a great rack. I'd acknowledged how good her curves looked on her. She wasn't the type of woman I'd ever gone for, but she was still pretty.
We'd gotten along. We shared a preference for the same beer. We'd laughed and joked around while everyone played drinking games together.
She was fun. She was nice. She was cute.
If I hadn't been so obsessed with, so distracted by, my desire to meet "Izzy," would I have thought of Bella any differently? Would I have flirted back or liked her in a different way?
And, fuck, she'd asked me about my deployment. She'd taken off . . . she'd taken off when . . . we started talking about her.
Part of me was pissed. She was the one who stopped our correspondence. She knew who I was when we met and she hadn't been honest with me. Why would she do that? What reason did she have to hide her true identity from me? And why lie about it in the first place? Sure, Izzy was another nickname for her full name, but if she never used it with anyone else she knew, what was the point?
Another part of me was completely confused about how to feel.
More than anything, I was upset. Upset that I'd finally met my Izzy and everything was a complete and utter mess because of it.
.
"You recognize this area code?" I asked Emmett, holding up my ringing phone for him to see.
He squinted at the screen and nodded. "Same as Jess's. It's in state. Whoa, do you think it's Bella? Answer it!"
I froze, holding the flashing device tightly. It had been almost two weeks since we'd visited the girls, and my head had been a mess the entire time. No matter how I tossed and turned the details in my mind, I was still conflicted. Before I had time to react, the phone was snatched from my hand, and Emmett answered.
"Jasper Whitlock's answering service. This is Emmett speaking. How may I direct your call? Bella! Uh huh. Why yes, I did have a talk with my sister about that. Mmm hmm. Well, I think that's something you need to sort out with my man here. Yup, I'll get him for you."
After listening to Emmett's end of that conversation, I held my hand out to him. He passed the phone over with a serious look on his face.
"Just talk it out. Listen to her. Make her listen to you. And remember what I said: don't hurt her."
Before I could protest, he'd lifted himself from my couch and left my room, giving me a stern glare before closing the door.
"Hey," I said quietly.
"Jasper? It's . . . it's Bella."
"Bella? Have we met?" The bitterness in my voice was unintended. Sort of.
"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know you know. Emmett talked to Jess and she told me and gave me your phone number, and I realize I've really handled everything poorly, but I never meant for things to happen the way they did. I swear."
I listened, like Emmett had told me to, and I had to admit the sincerity in her voice was obvious.
"I believe you," I told her simply.
"You do?"
"Yeah, but Bella, I have to know why?" I insisted. "Why didn't you tell me when we met? Why give me a different name in the first place?"
"This is hard for me. I want to explain, but . . . it's complicated. And embarrassing."
"Well, I have time. I'm glad you called," I admitted. "And I want to understand."
"Thank you," she practically whispered. "When Jessica told me that you and Emmett were coming to visit, I kind of freaked out. I wanted to tell you. I convinced myself I would, but then when I actually met you face to face, I couldn't. The words wouldn't come out, and the more we hung out, the more difficult it became. And then, I just didn't, and you left. I lost my chance."
"Yeah, but that's not all of it," I protested. "You stopped talking to me months before that. Bella, not long before that deployment, I'd been dating someone for a while. Our breakup was bad. She couldn't handle the military lifestyle and it took a lot for me to get over that. I was so closed off, but those letters with you – they helped me so much. It was like one day I was just over her. I was better."
The thing was, I hadn't even realized how true that was until the words came out of my mouth. Izzy – no, Bella – had fixed me. She had healed my broken heart. Strange how much clearer that reality made everything else here.
"I know."
Bella's response was so quiet that I almost didn't hear her.
"You know what exactly?"
"I know about your ex-girlfriend. I knew . . . then."
"What do you mean?" I demanded. How could she have known about Alice? I never talked about her with Bella.
Suddenly, I heard sniffling and shaky breaths. Was she crying? Her words confirmed my suspicion.
"I'd seen pictures of you. Emmett sends Jess pictures all the time, and there had been some of you. He talked about you, about all your friends. I saw your picture, and when Jess decided to put together that first package, I chose you intentionally. Jess told us what she knew about everyone. Who was married and that kind of thing. She mentioned that you'd had a recent breakup."
Okay, so this was getting crazier and crazier. She had seen pictures of me before the letters. She knew things about my personal life prior to what we shared in our correspondence. I felt betrayed, hurt.
"Say something, please," she said, her tears apparently still flowing.
"I'm not sure what to say. Why wouldn't you tell me? And why use a different name? I just don't get it."
"What was I supposed to tell you?" she replied a little louder. "'Oh hi, I saw your picture and I think you're really hot. How's the desert? Oh yeah, I heard you got dumped. Tough luck.' I'm sure that would have gone over well!"
"Yeah, but your name?"
"I don't know, Jasper. I didn't think it would ever be more than that one letter. I never expected you to write back. It was just . . . something different. To be anonymous. To be someone else for a moment. But then you did write back, and we just kept on writing, and I was Izzy to you. I liked that it was something we shared, just between the two of us."
"I liked what we had, too," I said, not meaning to speak, but the words came out of their own volition. "But you just stopped. I didn't know why."
"It was your last letter," she told me after another stretch of silence. "You thanked me for keeping in touch with you. While you were there. It felt so final. Like a goodbye. Like you didn't need my friendship anymore since you were going home."
"That wasn't what I meant!"
"I know. I know that now, at least. That was part of the reason I freaked out when we met. And then when we were talking the morning after the barbeque you said you didn't know why you'd lost touch with your friend. That's when I realized I'd been wrong."
"Was that why you left?"
"Yeah."
I was stretched out on my bed, my eyes closed and my phone pressed to my ear. It was hot from talking for so long, and my head was spinning.
"Bella, I really appreciate you telling me all of that. I mean it. I need some time to think about everything, but I hope we can be friends. Would it be all right if I call you sometime?"
"You mean that?"
"Yeah . . . I do. I'll call soon."
.
I did call her back a few days later and again and again as the weeks went by. We didn't talk as much about the rougher details. Instead, we got to know each other more. It took time for the Izzy I knew and the Bella I was getting to know to coalesce into the same person in my mind. I stopped wanting her to be the skinny blonde girl and let my thoughts of Bella linger on the real woman.
We became friends. Good friends. Sometimes one of us would just call to share a thought or tell a funny story about something that had happened to us. Other times, our conversations lasted for hours, going on about everything and nothing until real life obligations or sleep demanded our attention.
We were better, but after a couple months of that, it felt like we'd reached a plateau. Things between us had been repaired, but I had no idea where we went from here. Did I want more? Did she? Like a dumbass, I was too chicken shit to ask.
After all that we'd been through, I was afraid. Bella really had helped me get over Alice without me even realizing it, but I felt like there was so much on the line all over again. She'd told me that the original reason she wrote to me was because she thought I was hot. That had to mean something. Would her feelings have turned to something more platonic or was it the same? Could we even make it work with the distance between us and the differences of our lives? Gripped with too many questions and too many nervous fears, I didn't call Bella for days, and I didn't answer her calls. Her text messages went unanswered as well, no matter how much it hurt me to ignore them. The more I thought about everything, the more I panicked and couldn't bring myself to deal with my feelings.
Ten days without contact, and Emmett was pounding down my door.
"I told you not to be an asshole," he said to me. As he pinned me to the wall.
"My head's just a little fucked up right now. I need some time to think."
"Then you act like an adult and you tell her that, you dick," he growled at me. "Don't leave the poor girl feeling like she did something wrong."
"She thinks that?" A wash of guilt made me feel sick to my stomach.
"Yes, stupid. What did you think she would think?"
"I don't know," I said dumbly. He finally released me.
Emmett looked down, a sliver a sympathy in his eyes. "What's going on with you? What do you want with her? Because the impression I get from Jess is that Bella's feelings are pretty serious here, buddy." He paused for a moment, studying my face. "Just figure it out."
With that, he left me alone.
.
I didn't sleep. Not a single minute. Duty called at oh-five hundred hours, and I dragged myself to work. Before turning my phone off for the day I sent Bella a text. It wasn't what she deserved, but it would have to do. For now.
I'm sorry. I'm a jerk. I miss you.
I made it through work, grateful that it was Friday. My mind had been everywhere other than where it needed to be, and by the end of the day I was completely exhausted. I wanted to do the right thing and talk to Bella, but I couldn't in that condition. I literally passed out as soon as I got out of the shower.
When I woke up, it was dark, and with all the crazy dreams I'd been having about Bella, it was anything but restful. I jolted out of bed, looking around to notice that it was dark outside. Twenty-three hundred hours.
"What the fuck am I doing?" I said to no one but myself.
I had dressed myself and made it out the door when I realized what an idiot I was being. Dashing back inside, I grabbed my favorite book, fanning the pages to make sure what I needed was still inside.
I drove faster than I should have, but this was important. Three hours later, I was there. I double checked the envelope in my lap to ensure I had the right address, and then I went for it.
I knocked and waited, then knocked again, a little louder. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet anxiously, about ready to puke if the door didn't open . . . and possibly if it did, too.
The porch light came on, and a few seconds later, there she was. Disheveled, bleary-eyed, and completely confused. I just wanted to hold her.
"Jasper, what are you doing?"
"I . . ."
Did I mention what she was wearing? One of those tank tops with the little straps, riding up to show a hint of her soft belly, and teeny, tiny, amazing little shorts. All satiny and raspberry colored with some kind of frilly trim. Did she know I was coming or was that the kind of thing she wore to bed all the time?
Fuck.
"Uh, hello there, crazy guy at my front door?"
"Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset."
"You do realize it's two AM, right?" she asked. "Just . . . get inside."
I followed her through the dark house, weaving around furniture, and was surprised that she'd led me to her bedroom. She climbed back into bed, wrapping up under the covers, and I just stood there like an idiot. Again.
"Jasper, lie down. You're sorry. I'm sleepy. Talk in the morning."
Reluctantly, I took off my jeans and lay beside her. I stayed on the opposite side, dumbfounded by her reaction to my arrival, staring at her. Sure, a little creepy, but how could I resist? She fell back asleep instantly, and I watched her roll over, the blankets slipping away from her body. She looked peaceful. She looked hot.
Every girl I'd ever dated had been petite. I thought that was the kind of girl I preferred, but looking at the shape of Bella's body, the way it rounded and curved, I felt like I was discovering something new. Her breasts were so full, and in her pajamas, they looked amazing. It was more than just body lust, though. Her hair was thick and shiny, and it seemed like it would be so soft. Her skin was smooth and flawless, and she really was a beautiful person. I hadn't seen it before because I hadn't really been looking, but she was gorgeous. Though I continued to stare, I eventually fell asleep.
.
The smell of coffee roused me, and I heard a cup being set on the little table next to the bed. My pillow smelled nice too – feminine and warm. I rubbed my eyes and pouted involuntarily when I saw that she'd put a hoodie on over her tank top.
"Good morning," she said, her voice soft and sweet.
"Hi." I sat up and sipped my coffee, thanking her for it. "Sleep well?"
"Other than being interrupted in the middle of the night, yeah."
"Note to self: not a fan of grand gestures," I mumbled, and a pillow smacked against the side of my face. "Ow."
"Grand gestures are great, but I really like my sleep." To my relief, she was smiling. "So, you came all this way. Let's talk."
"Not gonna lie here. I was expecting something more like a slap in the face than a slumber party."
"I get it, but I don't want to waste time being upset. If you drove over three hours in the middle of the night, you're obviously not ignoring me anymore, right?"
"No, not again," I promised.
I set my cup down and took Bella's, putting it aside as well, and pulled her to sit back down with me on the bed. We were facing one another, and I kept her hands in mine.
"I got scared. You make me feel things I don't know how to handle."
Her eyes lit with questions that I understood. We were at a precipice, a turning point in our relationship. We both knew it; I just had to get the words out to take the next step. Looking into those big, vulnerable, sweet brown eyes, I had to ask myself what the hell had taken me so long to figure this out.
"I don't want to be friends anymore," I told her, but as she began to protest, I cut her off with my lips. I pushed myself closer to her and pulled her nearer at the same time. She came into my arms willingly, tangling her arms and legs around me in graceful movements. It was a soft, tentative, testing press against her mouth, but her lips parted for mine, giving in. I felt the smoothness of her tongue only momentarily before she pulled back, taking my face between her hands. Those eyes, twinkling like stars in a sky that was mine alone, met mine once more.
"I don't want to be friends either," she whispered, kissing me again.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, tasting her round cheeks with little pecks.
"Don't be." Her fingernails scratched up and down the back of my head, sending a chill through me. "You're here now."
And she was right. I didn't want to be sorry any longer. I just wanted to be. To hold her in this new, wonderful way and know who we could be together. The line had been crossed, and I couldn't stop. This wasn't rushed because we'd already built up to this moment in each letter, text message, and telephone conversation.
I lifted her out of my lap, letting my hands linger greedily over her bare legs. She was muscular, solid, and tender all at once. There was so much to explore, and that thought excited me almost as much as that inner joy I felt each time we kissed. I knew one thing, and it was that her hoodie had to go. I crawled over her, unzipping and tugging it open, shoving at the shoulders to just get it off. Her little tank top shimmered in the morning light, and I ran my hands over it, from her stomach up to cover her breasts. They fit so nicely, needing my full palm and fingers to really hold onto her. Squeezing was an unintentional but delightful reaction to feeling such a beautiful handful. Bella made the most amazing breathy moan in response, and I massaged with a little more pressure.
"You can be Bella or Izzy or anyone else you want to be, as long as you're mine." My mouth found hers again, and as our tongues played and teased, I pulled down on the straps of her shirt, letting her wiggle it down so it pooled around her waist. "So sexy." Lips met the slope of her breast and then visited the other side. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, loving the sounds she made for me, and then I tasted her. Amazing.
I wanted to worship this woman. I'd had fun physical relationships in the past, but I realized that was all simple math; one plus one equals two. With Bella, she was complicated equations with exponents and unknown variables. She was geometry with curves and angles I wanted to know the same way I knew myself. She was physics, complicated and confusing, but once all the details came together, it made perfect sense.
Time didn't matter, so I was clueless as to how much of it I spent kissing, licking, and sucking an infinite map over her torso and neck. Our lips met frequently, and her hands were all over my hair and shoulders. Her fingernails felt amazing, encouraging everything I did to her. My hands moved wherever they wanted, most frequently rubbing up and down her sides, feeling the ways her body curved in and out.
She pulled me to her and kissed me hard, asking me to submit to her this time. I gave in, rolling to my side and holding her close to me, then onto my back.
"Off," she instructed, pulling my shirt up. I gladly undressed for her, smirking as she studied my chest and abs. Her hands traced the same path her eyes had, and I felt like her fingertips were flames, burning me in their wake. They dragged down, down, down, swirling around my hip bones and skimming over the muscular V that led to my waistband . . . which she grasped and pulled down. My hips lifted, willing to give her whatever she wanted of me.
The weight of her body lying over me felt so good, so substantial. It was like she was pure woman, somehow more than anyone else I'd ever been with. I wanted to feel her like this all day, but she had different plans. Bella worked her way down my body, the satin of her bunched shirt and little shorts tickling my skin as she moved. Her eyes were different – ferocious – and I understood why when I felt my cock slide between her breasts. We were both moist with sweat, and I knew she knew what she was doing because she angled herself over me perfectly, rolling her chest over me and pinching her shoulders inward to create a tighter grip around my erection. Up and down, up and down, I couldn't believe this beautiful, sweet girl was letting me tit fuck her. I pushed up at her, allowing Bella to guide us but showing her how damn good it felt to be incased between her breasts. Unable to resist, I reached down and pressed them together, making the hold so tight.
Her body shifted down after a few minutes, and suddenly, she had me in her mouth. It was so hot and wet, and she wasn't just sucking, she was massaging me with her tongue. I couldn't keep up with exactly she was doing, but that's the only way to describe the feeling. As much as I wished for her to keep going, there was something I wanted so much more. I gently guided her away from me and directed her up the bed so we were face to face again. Seeking permission in her eyes, I took hold of her shirt and shorts and brought them down over her hips and off her legs, along with a sheer pair of panties I found beneath. I kissed her with all the tenderness I could muster, wanting to communicate the intensity of my feelings through that kiss. I moved a hand between us, and her thighs parted naturally for me, her knee hitching over my leg as my fingers met her folds. She felt the way a rose petal does when you rub it between your fingertips, only she was slick and ready for my touch. One finger moved easily inside her, so I added a second and loved the way she bit my lip in response.
"Jasper, please," she said against my mouth.
"Tell me," I urged, so desperate to hear the words.
"I'm yours. Have me . . . please."
I pulled myself away as she tried to cling to me, but I shook my head. "I need to run to my car. I'll be right back."
Before I could get off the bed she grabbed my wrist. "Condoms?"
"Yeah," I nodded.
"Hang on." She got out of bed, and there was no sign that she felt shy or wanted to shield herself from my view, the way some women can be. Bella walked confidently toward her bathroom, and I appreciated her naked form in a new way as she did. Her curves looked elegant from behind. Her upper body tapered the slightest amount, dipping inward at her waist and flaring back out with the slight roundness of her belly. The softness of her body was just so . . . pretty. No concave stomach or ribs jutting out. And then her ass. Damn. It wasn't too wide or bubbly, just a nice round shape that led my eyes to those strong thighs. I grabbed my throbbing cock, anxious to find my way between her legs and experience the way they would feel wrapped around me.
Bella's search took a little longer than I'd hoped, but after watching her bang through a few cabinets and drawers, she returned to me, dropping a couple squares onto the bedside table and tearing another open before handing it to me. She straddled my hips, angelic and divine in her naked glory. I held myself in place, putting my other hand on her hip to guide her to me. Her hands pressed down onto my stomach and our eyes locked as we came together, and I could have sworn in those first few seconds that she really was some kind of seraphic being because she looked and felt heavenly. My heart, body, and mind were all in with Bella, and I knew I could never turn back from how far we'd come.
We were slow at first, my pelvis rolling up toward her, and Bella balanced carefully on her knees to meet my movements. I pulled her down though, to feel her lips against mine and the way her body molded into me. My arms stayed around her, clinging like I'd fall to my death if I ever let go. She rubbed herself over me roughly in that position, and I knew she was feeding her need for climax. I pushed harder, letting the roughness against her clit bring her to the point where she froze and pulsed, her arms tucked under my shoulders and squeezing me so hard it hurt a little. When she relaxed, I moved us until I was over her, stoking her thighs and finding my way back to Heaven.
I kissed and touched her all over, and as if she knew what I wanted, her bent knees pulled off the mattress and carefully working their way around me. I felt her ankles lock, pulling me tighter against her and keeping us inseparable.
"Jasper . . ."
My name on her lips, spoken with so much passion, as our bodies fitted together and brought us both to such amazing heights . . . it made it impossible to hold on much longer. I rose up slightly, grasping her ass and lifting to give me a tighter angle. Her whole body seemed to clench and go rigid, and the pulse of ecstasy ran through me, straight to where we remained connected. I let her body drop gingerly back on the bed, and then fell forward on my forearms – still over her, still in her. I kissed her because there was nothing more I wanted than to keep this high she gave me, and she kissed me back.
.
"Don't go."
Hot damn, I wanted to kiss those pouty lips all day long.
"I don't want to. Believe me."
Her hands were on my butt, pulling me closer to rub against my cock.
"Please?"
I pushed back, teasing her in return.
"I'll come back next weekend. I promise, Bella."
Her cheek rested on my chest, and she nuzzled against me.
"Not soon enough."
I put my hand on her head, holding her close to me and stroking her long hair.
"I know it's not, but I'll leave as soon as I get out of work on Friday."
Bella looked up and puckered her lips for one final kiss. Except that her hand also moved to my cock, and between that and the rubbing, she could feel how hard I was, even through the thick denim of my jeans. I reached around her and turned the doorknob to let us back inside.
"One more hour. One more hour and then I have to go."
Her smile was brilliant and victorious, and I let her lead me to her couch. Oh. That's why she wore a dress today.
Going a week without her would be tough.
.
On Tuesday, there was a letter amongst my other mail. No return address was listed, but in that upper left hand corner it said, "Izzy" with a bubbly heart drawn beside it. My week instantly got a little better.