This was written for the Write What You Know Contest. Thank you to everyone that voted in the contest!
I would also like to thank Heelstominivan, Snozzberryfaery, AngryBadgerGirl, and TFX for red penning and pre-reading.
Disclaimer: Stephenie dreamed up the originals, we find new ways to make them fall in love all over again…with their boots on…
The Oakway was a hole, but it was our hole. It was one of a kind, a species on the brink of extinction. Our enjoyment of this little retreat from the world would soon end, due to some dickweed bureaucrat's crusade to reclaim the downtown area from the "wrong side of the tracks".
Our little bar was on the second block of Ionia Street, and as of yet had not been taken over under the guise of beautification. The first block had been completely refurbished, with a yuppie bar on every street corner, including The Reptile Room, where no self-respecting punk would ever step foot again.
The farther south you traveled the more rundown the buildings became. If you didn't know where The Oakway was located, you'd walk right by it. It was one of the city's best kept secrets. The building was boarded up, the plywood painted white to match the rest of the dilapidated structure, and the entrance was located in a darkened alcove with no indication of life other than a thin line of light escaping along the bottom of the door.
There was no real sign advertising the existence of a business. Instead, someone had taken a can of black spray paint and written "The Oakway", with an arrow underneath pointing towards the hidden doorway, in haphazard chicken-scratch.
The bar itself was rather small, furnished sparsely with only a half-dozen battered tables, a small ancient pool table that had seen better days, a jukebox, and a 6 ft. bar. The walls were covered with old brown paneling and the orange threadbare carpet that was missing in places, clashed with the abused green vinyl bar stools. Most people would turn their nose up at such a pit, but to us the dingy interior and the smell of stale air was home.
On this night, I was the last to arrive. I greeted El Jeffe and Danger as I passed the pool table and made my way to the bar. Rose, Alice, and our dirty brown he-she, Tanya, were already seated at our usual corner table, nursing cans of Old Style. The rest of the punks were gathered around the bar listening to Herm's classic bar tales.
Herm was our bartender, and at the tender age of 82 was the world's oldest working barkeep, second only to some ancient fucker in Norway.
Edward was already standing at the bar. He turned as I approached him, and I could feel his eyes giving me a very appreciative once-over. They lingered on my tits a little longer than usual, but I couldn't blame him. I had pretty much put the girls out there for ogling. Not that Edward wasn't equally worthy of ogling. He was fine as fuck, and I couldn't help but stare right back at him.
His black leather jacket was patched up and covered in studs, and the fuckhot beater underneath gave peaks of his ink around the neckline. His bronze spiked hair called to my fingers, begging to be touched- perhaps pulled, and I'd always imagined that if I ever had the privilege to actually have sex with him, I'd be sure to make him keep his boots on.
If we hadn't shared such a close friendship, that I valued very seriously, I would have invited him to the Promised Land long ago. Every cell in my body wanted to feel his skin against mine, but I'd never made a move. He'd been through too much, and it felt wrong to try anything. He may have been one of the toughest men I'd ever met, but his heart was still wounded and I didn't want him to think I was taking advantage of him in his fragile emotional condition.
I gave him a warm smile while I approached my boys as they lounged at the bar.
"You want the usual?" Edward asked as I walked over to the group.
"Yeah. You know what I like," I teased as he slapped a few bills on the counter.
"Herm, can you get the lady some of that watered down piss in a can," he joked, "and I'll have my usual." Herm passed me my Old Style with a wink and placed Edward's forty down on the counter. This was the only place in the city that served Mickey's forties from the bar. Hell, it was the only place I'd ever heard of that served forties from the bar at all.
I turned to the giant next to me and admired the way his dark hair was slicked back into a perfect pompadour as I popped the top on my can. "What's up, Em?"
"Same shit, different day." He said as he squeezed me in a one armed hug. "You already missed Brandon and the Goat."
"Somehow I feel like I win," I laughed. "I miss the boy, but he needs to ditch the fucking billy goat. She grates my nerves."
"Well if it isn't the ugliest motherfucker I've ever seen!" I heard as the bathroom door opened.
"Fuck you Jasper! Did you forget to change your tampon again?" Edward asked, as he lifted Jasper off the ground into a bear hug, knocking his hat off in the process.
"Respect the hat, motherfucker!" Jasper shouted. He retrieved his Holy Sepulcher hat from the floor, and gently brushed off imaginary dirt from its tattered surface as if it hadn't already been permanently soiled from digging graves all day at the cemetery.
I turned and joined my fellow whores at the corner table, so I could discretely admire Edward from across the room. It seemed like any other night, with my girls bitching, and Tanya- whose real name was Jake- never saying a word.
I looked over just in time to see Edward shedding his jacket. From my corner I could easily watch him all night. I admired the way his tattoos accentuated the lines of his muscles as he moved, and the way his fingers curled around the forty, or flexed as he flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. He oozed sexual energy, and I couldn't help but get sucked in, especially when he focused those emerald green eyes on me.
It always amazed me how just one look could leave me wanting. I'd never felt that kind of desire for anyone else…and I hadn't even kissed him yet.
I'd always been attracted to him. You'd have to be dead not to…the man was fucking gorgeous. Even if you weren't into the punkabilly scene, the tatts, the piercings and shit, there was no denying that Edward Cullen was possibly one of the most luscious men on the planet.
He could rock out a pair of cuffed dark fucking jeans like no other I had ever seen. His tall, toned body was well muscled and firm in all the right places, and the few piercings he had accentuated his features rather than distracted from them. His brow ring complimented the expressiveness of his eyes, the labret was small but drew your attention to the fullness of his bottom lip, and the industrial barbell in the upper cartilage of his left ear and single ring in each lobe were just plain sexy. His most provocative piece of jewelry was his tongue piercing. I knew what I liked to do with mine, and the thought of being on the receiving end was enough to reduce my panties to ash.
Even though I'd been attracted to him, I was not one to horn in on another girl's man, and Edward had been Stacy's since I'd met them. But just because the man was taken didn't mean I couldn't appreciate the view.
Then the unthinkable had happened. A year ago, I'd come back from a weekend trip home to my parent's house and found my world had fallen into utter chaos. While I was gone my best friend, and Edward's girlfriend, Stacy had been killed in an accident while out biking with Edward. We were all in shock.
The last year had been pretty hard on all of us. Edward didn't handle it well at all, but that was to be expected when you watched the person you love die in your arms. As a group, we'd decided to take turns hanging out with him, never leaving him quite alone. It's not that we feared he'd do something drastic, like take his own life, we just knew he needed the support. I happened to have the most flexible schedule at the time, and ended up hanging out with him the most.
We'd always gotten along well before, always had easy conversation, so being together so much felt natural. We fell into a comfortable routine, spending much of our free time together. I found I could easily sense his moods, and was able to offer whatever support was necessary at any given time. Sometimes we'd just drive somewhere and talk. Sometimes we'd stay in and watch movies. Someone from the outside might have assumed we were dating, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. We were just extremely close friends. I would never actually come right out and admit it, but I felt a certain amount of pride in knowing that I was the only one out of our group that could handle the constant and abrupt transitions from Sweetward to Dickward.
Despite my attraction to him, his heart obviously still belonged to her. Even after Stace had passed away, there was no denying the strength of their connection. I respected that, until out of nowhere he turned full-on man whore.
One day everything was normal, and the next he was whoring himself out to some dirty, skeezy bitch. What kind of crack head impersonates someone's dead girlfriend for a lay? More importantly, how could he allow himself to get sucked into that kind of mind fuckery? I knew people handled grief in different ways, I just never thought I'd see him stoop so low. He wasn't that kind of person. He wasn't acting like the man I knew…
I stood by him though, in the event he would snap out of whatever was distressing him, and once again need my shoulder to cry on. Only, he didn't snap out of it right away, and flitted from psycho bitch to psycho bitch for months. That's when I figured out I wasn't just disappointed in his behavior, I was jealous.
I realized that somehow during all that time we'd spent together, I'd started to think of him as mine. I was pissed because, as close as we were, I apparently couldn't offer him the kind of comfort he desired. I was a good friend, but not the kind of woman he wanted to fuck. It hurt, bad, but I couldn't step away. He'd become too important to me, and I decided that if he only saw me as a friend, I'd accept it.
When he finally came to his senses and sent the last skeeze packing, we resumed our old routine. Only now, my heart pounded out of control when he'd glance my way. My pulse would race every time he touched me, and I found it damn near impossible to not touch him back. I wanted to pursue him, but was terrified that everyone would think I was taking advantage of him like the others. I didn't want to be that girl, so I contented myself with his friendship.
"I don't know what they're waiting for," I heard Rosalie say.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked, pulling my gaze away from Edward to try to jump back into the conversation.
"I said, I don't know what you're waiting for," Rose repeated, and looked at Alice and Tanya.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Rose?"
"You. And Edward. What the hell are you waiting for?" She emphasized each word. "You guys sit here night after night eye-fucking each other. I wish you'd just screw already and put the rest of us out of our misery."
Shit. Apparently I'm not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought.
:::===є o )) (( o э===:::
She was even more beautiful tonight than normal, like Bettie Page in the flesh. Her dark hair hung down her back, the loose waves and short bangs framing her heart-shaped face. She was wearing a short black bondage skirt that paired with her trusty combat boots framed her long sexy legs, and her favorite black hoodie, that unfortunately hid the most impressive body art I'd ever seen on a woman.
She took my breath away every time I saw her. I couldn't even begin to describe what I felt when she walked through the door and smiled at me as she joined us at the bar. It didn't matter how long we were apart, a few minutes or a few days, her presence filled a hollow portion of my soul I'd thought would always be empty after Stacy died.
I still remember that day. Watching the woman you love get obliterated by a fucking pick-up truck kind of stays with you.
All of our friends had been there for me, but Bella was my anchor, my constant, as I fought my way through the grief. I don't know how I would have gotten through the past year without her. We'd been friends before, but became so much closer after Stacy had died.
For the first couple of months they'd taken turns hanging out with me, afraid to leave me alone. Bella had been the easiest to be around. She always seemed to know exactly what I needed, when to push, when to back off, when I needed to laugh, and when to just leave me the fuck alone. With the exception of the funeral, she was the only one I trusted enough to let my guard down around. Eventually everyone felt comfortable enough to ease up, but Bella and I kept hanging out.
The group had always referred to her as Hottie-the-Honkey since she'd grown up on the corner of East Jesus Nowhere and Bumblefuck Egypt, and well the truth is we all thought she was fucking hot.
Even though I'd always known she was attractive, I remember the first time I realized how beautiful she truly was. We were driving in my old rusted 1982 Volvo and I'd forgotten my motorcycle helmet on the front seat. She'd strapped it on, put her feet up on the dash, and reenacted a scene from Benny and Joon…She just laughed and looked at me, her eyes sparkling and the biggest fucking smile spread across her face. In that moment she'd effortlessly pierced the armor around my heart and her startling beauty, coupled with the new feelings, scared the living shit out of me.
After that I kind of flaked out on her, and everyone else, for a while. It felt like I was betraying Stace's memory if I thought another girl was beautiful when she wasn't even cold in her grave. For some reason, my newfound attraction to Bella brought me to the conclusion that I should not only fuck the grief out of my system, but the attraction I felt towards her as well. Somehow I'd rationalized that fucking a few crazy bitches was less insulting to Stacy's memory than having a genuine connection with someone. I was so wrong.
It started with Erin, a complete whore who tried to mind-fuck me by transforming herself into Stacy. She'd even chopped off her hair and bleached it the exact same shade of platinum blonde Stacy had preferred. Between that, and her extremely low man-voice, she was lucky I'd stooped to tap that shit at all. She was just convenient and stupid enough to throw herself at me during the lowest point in my life. It ended with Michelle, who was not quite as stupid, but completely fucked in the head. The girl was definitely not normal. When I finally realized how wrong everything was, and that I was just as fucked up as they were, Bella was still there to pick up the rest of my pathetic pieces.
Over the following months I'd finally admitted to myself how much she had come to mean to me, and no matter how innocent my feelings had originally started, they had grown infinitely more serious. I'd already fucked up by whoring myself around and was afraid of how everyone would perceive my pursuing Bella. To be fair she hadn't yet given any indication that my interest was reciprocated. Regardless, I was completely afraid to act on it.
All I could think was "What if she did like me? What if she loved me back? What if she left me like Stacy had?" I didn't think I could live through the grief a second time. I also knew that if I lost Bella, I'd be far worse off than when Stacy had died. As much as I'd loved my Stace, my feelings for Bella were becoming so much more.
That realization had completely torn my shit up. It was impossible to think I would betray my girl by loving another more. That's when I'd decided to get Stace's initials tatted over my heart. So I'd always remember, so she'd always be there, so that no matter what she would always have a piece of my heart. Bella had loved the idea; she'd thought it was a great way to let her go. Clearly she didn't understand that it was my way of offering her the rest of my heart, and I still didn't have the balls to tell her.
"What are you waiting for?" I heard Herm ask quietly, jolting me from my melancholy thoughts.
"Huh?" I asked as I transferred my gaze from the object of my affection to one of the wisest men I'd ever met.
"Yer lady." He said and inclined his head towards Bella.
"You know it's not like that Herm. We're just close. She's been there for me since Stace died." I said, fingering the label on my Mickey's.
"I've known you for a long time Edward. I saw how much you loved Stacy, and how much you were hurting after the accident, but it's time to move on son. I know it's hard, because I've been there. You of all people should know how important it is to take advantage of the time you have. If you don't tell her how you feel you'll regret it."
The old bastard was too astute, but I valued his advice. He'd lost two wives during his eighty-odd years, and he'd helped me to cope through the past year without drowning myself in the bottom of a Mickey's forty every night.
"I didn't realize I was so transparent." I sighed as I lit another cigarette. "Do you think she knows?"
"No, she's just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to hers." He said emptying the ashtray at my elbow.
Yeah right…I would've known by now if she felt anything for me even remotely resembling how much I love her…
"She's just a really good friend, and she doesn't think of me that way." I flicked the ash off the end of my cigarette.
"For months now, every time you two come in here, you spend more time making sure you don't know you're watching each other than doing anything else. Trust me– your girl likes you…a lot."
"Just because she looks at me doesn't mean she likes me, Herm."
"She blushes every time I catch her," he said quietly. "Just think about it. Don't let her go."
"Thanks Herm." I said as I ground out my cigarette butt. "Looks like my game is up. Beer me so I can go show those losers how eight ball is really played."
I quickly turned away and walked over to the pool table. "Ready for me to school your ass, you dirty whore?" I asked Emmett as I approached him and Jasper.
"I believe you're the one who pussied out during our last game. Do you think you can hack my shit this time around and actually attempt to play the game?" Emmett taunted me.
"If I remember correctly, the only reason you won last time was because you coerced me into the one and only drunken stupor I've experienced in the past six months. I suggest you retrieve your ball sack from Rosalie's purse and prepare to take it like a man." I said as I carefully picked up a cue stick.
I looked over at Bella, and watched as she laughed with the girls and Tanya. She was so beautiful when she laughed. She looked up at me and blushed.
Maybe the old bastard is right...
If Herm was right, and he usually was, then Bella would be watching us play. It was summer, and hot, so I'd only worn one of my old wife beaters which showed my tatts to maximum advantage. As close as Bella and I had gotten over the last year I knew that tatts were a huge turn on for her. If she liked me as much as Herm said I hoped I could catch her taking a peek.
I attempted to rack the balls while watching for her, and sure enough, the girls left their corner to come over and watch us play.
"I hope you have better luck this time around, Edward." I startled when I heard a deep, but slightly feminine voice address me from behind.
"I've got it covered this time, Tanya. Em doesn't stand a chance when I'm fucking sober." She was pretty for a tranny, but the low voice had the same effect as a bucket of ice water– instant shrinkage. She had a fucking nice rack for a guy, but I'd never been able to get over seeing her dick in Gay Kyle's mouth at the last Halloween party. Fucking douchebags broke our only rule– No Sex in the Champagne Room. She was super nice, but I'd always wondered what she'd been like when she still went by "Jacob".
I heard Bella snicker, and looked up in time to see her remove her jacket. Fuck me! She was also only wearing a beater under her hoodie. It showed off her full sleeves to maximum advantage, framing her collar bones with the low neckline and the dark lines of her tatts.
My mouth watered and I swallowed hard when I saw the leopard print of her bra showing through the thin white fabric. God I wish she felt the same way about me…
"Hey Twattward? Are you going to play, or stare at Bella's tits all night?" Emmett yelled in my ear.
"Fuck you, Emmett," I blushed. Great. Thanks to Chatty Cathy, Bella knew I'd been staring at her perfect fucking tits. "It's your break. I racked."
"I know dipshit. If you'd been paying attention instead of fantasizing about titty-fucking the Doublemint Twins , you would've seen that I already took my shot." He chuckled loudly. "Seeing how you've been otherwise occupied I'll give you a hint. I'm solids. You're stripes. Now take your shot, Biotch, before I really make you blush."
"Jesus Fucking Christ, Emmett!" I quickly got my shit together and made short work of the first game. I lost the second, but only because Jasper distracted me on my last shot by humping the corner pocket I was aiming for- that shit just wasn't right. Thank God Alice convinced him to join her at their table. We were half way through the tie-breaker game when I noticed some weird fucker enter the bar.
He wasn't a regular.
All eyes turned to the entrance when he yelled, "Give me your money, NOW!"
I noticed he had a switchblade in his left hand and stifled a growl as I realized Bella stood only a few feet way.
No God Damn way!
The fucking nimbus had yet to realize Emmett and I were right behind him as the door was right next to the pool table. I nodded to Emmett, silently forming our plan. We looked tough, but as a rule didn't fight unless provoked. Standing that close to my Bella with a fucking knife was more provocation than I needed.
He was staring down Jim Danger and El Jeffe, a couple of bad ass motherfuckers decked out in spikes, studs, chains and leather. I carefully took a step forward placing my body in between him and Bella, finally alerting the crook to the threat behind him. His eyes grew wide as he realized he'd stepped into the wrong fucking bar.
"Drop your pussy-assed knife and get the fuck out." I said in a cold voice.
Obviously out of his league, the felon froze and let the knife fall from his grasp. He wasn't moving fast enough away from my Bella though, so before the knife hit the floor Emmett and I rushed him and dragged him out to the street. The crowd of bar patrons followed in tow, wanting to see the fate of the dumb-shit who was clearly outnumbered.
While Emmett held his arms, I pulled back and landed a punch square in his ugly face. "Get a Goddamn job, Pig Fucker, and stay out of our bar!" I growled, as Emmett let him slump to the ground and added one last kick on our way back to the sidewalk.
I surveyed the crowd that was standing outside to make sure Bella was alright. Her dark eyes looked me over as well, as if she wanted to make sure that miserable waste of human flesh hadn't hurt me either.
I shook my head at her slightly to answer her silent question, and I watched her shoulders relax a bit.
Herm walked outside and told us to get our asses back inside, for a last call on the house. We all made our way inside, but Bella lingered, waiting on me. When we stepped back up to the bar he already had our drinks waiting for us on top of the stained and chipped formica.
I could still feel the adrenaline racing through my veins and my heart rate was a little accelerated. I looked over at Bella as she brought the can up to those full pink lips and, like a moron, all I could think about was what they would look like wrapped around my cock.
"I have an errand to run, and after what just happened I'm pretty sure you guys can handle locking up," Herm looked directly at me, interrupting my visual of Bella's head bobbing up and down between my legs. "Don't forget to turn off the lights before you leave."
He didn't typically leave any of us alone in the bar to lock up, but it had been a fucked up night. I watched him as he bent down to grab his jacket from underneath the bar. He scribbled something down on a napkin which I assumed was a reminder to turn off the lights, then handed me the keys and the napkin as he walked towards the door.
I unfolded the cheap white napkin and looked down at the scrawled note. It didn't take me long to understand exactly what it meant. "Don't let her go."
This was it. I couldn't blow it. Herm was right; I had to let Stacy go if I ever wanted to move on with Bella. Stacy's smiling face danced before my eyes and I felt the heartache rush through me. I looked back over to Bella and I wondered if I was ready to move on, if Stacy would be accepting of my feelings towards her best friend. I wanted her more than anything, however, I knew that I wasn't worthy of someone like her.
My mind filled with hope, doubt, shame, and love all at the same time. I felt the need to grab her and claim her as my own. I wanted Bella.
"Is everything alright?" I was so involved in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed when everyone started to leave and Bella had moved beside me.
"Yeah, everything's going to be fine." I looked down into her concerned eyes. I'm ready.
"You gonna lock up? Rose and I are out." Emmett broke into my thoughts.
"Yeah. I'll take care of it." I answered, never removing my gaze from hers.
I continued holding her gaze as the bar finally fell silent. Unable to speak the words to express what I felt at the moment, I extended my hand out, gliding my fingers over a few of the silky strands of dark hair from her temple to the ends resting just below her shoulders. I took a step closer, letting my movements speak in the absence of my voice.
She took her own step closer, giving me the permission I sought. I moved my hand back up to cup her face, my thumb skimming over her cheek and down to stroke her soft lips.
She closed the space between us, and looked briefly down to my chest and then back up into my eyes. I wanted to know what she was thinking. I felt her hand press against my chest as my heart started to beat even faster. I wanted to know how she felt about me. I wanted to know if she wanted the same thing.
She looked down and I could feel her tiny finger trace over the dark outline of the initials showing through the thin white cotton covering my chest.
"Do you think you'll ever have room in there for me?" She smiled sweetly up at me as a lone tear trickled down her face. "I think she'd want us to be happy."
I wiped the tear with my thumb and brought her lips to mine for the first time. Despite the somewhat chasteness of our kiss, it was the most intimate moment my life. Her soft lips molded to mine moving in a slow caress, our tongues meeting for the barest of seconds, and her arms wound around my neck extending our kiss as we pressed closer together.
I pulled back slightly to rest my forehead against hers, and gathered her small body in my arms. "Fuck. I can't hold it back anymore, Bella."
I moved my hands up, resting one over hers on my chest and raised her chin with the finger tips of the other hand so I could look her in the eyes. "Stace is gone, and I'll always love her, but I've known for a while that this," I pressed her tiny palm against my pounding heart, "belongs to you now."
She paused for a fraction of a second and then pulled my face back down to hers, crushing my lips to hers. Finally knowing that this beautiful woman returned my feelings with the same intensity I felt for her made the desire I'd held in check for so long surge through my body, breaking down the last of the walls I'd erected in my grief.
I moved my hand from hers on my chest and grasped her face in both of my palms deepening our kiss. This time as our tongues met we took our time savoring the taste and feel of each other. I couldn't even begin to describe the varied emotions churning within my soul; it was everything I never knew I needed, and more than I felt I had a right to deserve.
Her body was pressed close to mine, and I could feel every curve melt into my own. We slowly intensified our kiss, our heartbeats becoming staccato, punctuating the rhythm of our shortened breaths.
"I've wanted us…this…for so long…" She murmured as she nipped and licked my lips. "Edward…I don't want to waste…any more time…"
"Bella…"
Keeping my lips fastened to hers, I let my fingers weave into her hair with one hand and moved the other down to grip her hip as I backed her towards the closest stable surface. When the backs of her thighs met the edge of the pool table I gently lifted her up and set her on the rail, settling myself between her legs.
Wanting to feel the soft caress of her silky hair against my skin, I moved my hand back up and plunged my fingers into her thick tresses using my grasp to tilt her head to the side to give me better access to the delicate skin of her neck. I gently kissed my way along her jaw to her ear so I could inhale the unique fragrance of her skin, then moved down her neck placing open mouthed kisses along the way.
She matched each flick of my tongue with a quiet pant, and pressed us as close together as our clothing would allow. The front of her skirt had flipped up and I could feel the heat of her arousal radiating through her panties and the thick denim of my pants, heightening my own desire.
As I continued on my path downward, kissing her soft skin and tracing the intricate lines of her tattoos with my tongue, she tugged at the hem of my wife beater. As soon as it was free of my waistband her warm hands snaked underneath to caress the skin of my back as she drew the shirt up to my shoulders.
"Off." She said, distracting me from my goal. "Take it off."
I leaned away and quickly drew the fabric over my head, anxious to get back to tasting her skin. She had other plans. Before I had fully disposed of my beater her hands were on me, stroking every inch of exposed flesh she could reach. I moaned and closed my eyes relishing the trail of heat blazing across my skin everywhere her hands touched. As good as her hands felt, I needed to be closer to her, have my hands or her body as well. I reached for her, fitting my hands to her tiny waist, and pulled our bodies back together.
A sweet moan escaped her lips as I resumed my quest to lick my way down her body. Her hands remained in constant motion, stroking and caressing over my shoulders and back. I contentedly continued my progress towards the perfect pair of tits that had been calling my name since she'd walked in the door that evening, until her nails raked my back. That single action sent a jolt of desire straight to my dick causing it to twitch in the already tight confines of my jeans.
I leaned into her, my open mouth panting against the skin just above the neckline of her tank. I quickly willed myself back in control of my desire, realizing that as much as I wanted to take my time discovering the delights of Bella's body my heightened state of arousal would not afford me that luxury.
I lifted my face from her chest and licked her bottom lip before dipping my tongue into her parted mouth desperately trying to convey the depth of my emotions and desires in that one kiss. She moaned and matched my tongue stroke for stroke. My fingers flexed on her waist gathering the thin fabric of her top until I could feel the warmth of her skin against my own. I drew the beater upwards grazing her softness with the sides of my fists along the way.
When I reached her rib cage I released the thin material from my grasp, letting it fall over my wrists and splayed my hands against her body. I continued upward skimming my palms over the satin of her bra, momentarily increasing the pressure as I passed over her responsive nipples.
"Edward…" Her voice whispered breathily against my lips as she raised her arms and ground her chest against my palms. Pulling away, I drew the flimsy top over her head then dove back in to nip at her lips as I brought my hands back to her shoulders.
When I withdrew my mouth from hers once again and quickly glanced at her beautiful face her eyes were closed; the long lashes resting against the tops of her flushed cheeks and her mouth was parted slightly, offering tantalizing glimpses of her pink tongue as the tip licked at her swollen lips. I lowered my gaze in sync with my hands as they brushed lightly down from her shoulders to the leopard printed satin cups of her bra. The swells of her flesh rose in harmony with her shortened breaths, the movement causing my rock hard erection to throb.
I circled her hardened peaks with my thumbs through the satin, while my eyes sought out her face once again, searching to see the same incredible desire I knew had to be evident in my own. Her eyes opened, confirming my hopes. She reached out with one hand guiding our mouths back together, and stretched behind her back with the other to loosen the clasp that held the last barrier between her breasts and my worshiping hands.
It fell away leaving me gasping for the breath I hadn't known I was holding. She was exquisite. I had thought before that she had the most amazing tattoos I'd ever seen on a woman, but the actual sight of her completely bare before me was almost indescribable. I drank in the vision of ink staining her skin in full sleeves from her tiny wrists all the way up over her shoulders, meeting in the middle just below the indentation formed between her collar bones. On either side of her torso the tatts extended from the elegant lines of her hip bones up under her arms. All of the art work, in combination, framed her completely bare breasts. They were pure, unmarked compared to the surrounding periphery, but that only enhanced their allure.
"Perfect," I sighed and brought my hands back to her waist, holding her in place while my mouth descended to devour her. She cried out the instant my lips enclosed over one of her pert nipples and sank her fingers into my hair, alternately massaging my scalp and tugging on my spiked locks.
I looked up to revel in her reactions as I bit and sucked and teased her breasts. With her head back, mouth parted, and erotic little pants escaping as she exhaled, her response spurred me on to continue the pleasurable torture. I lavished each breast hungrily, the taste of her sweet skin unable to squelch the desire eating away at me deep inside.
She yanked my head up, crushing our lips together in a searing kiss, mimicking the attentions I had just bestowed on her breasts. I brought my hands back up, caressing and kneading her soft curves, unable to abandon them completely. She sucked and pulled, nibbling at my lips with an intensity that stoked the flames burning within me.
"I…need…you…" She gasped out, between nips. "Edward, Please…"
"Bella," was all I could get out with any coherency.
While I slipped my hands up her skirt, hers moved to the buckle on my belt. I slid my hands up her thighs and under her ass, raising her just enough to insert my thumbs into the waist of her panties and slip them down before resting her back on the table rail. She had successfully unfastened my belt and the button on my jeans and I could feel her fingers starting to push their way down the front of my jeans, but I had an urgent need to finish what I had just started.
I shifted my hips away from her searching hand and continued to remove her panties.
"Not yet." I looked up at her briefly, then concentrated on my task. The soft satin of her panties warned me that they most likely matched the sexy bra she'd been wearing earlier. I knelt down, lowering the black leopard print bikinis as I went, noting the dampness of the fabric and the accompanying aroma of her arousal.
"Ungh…" I couldn't help the groan that escaped my lips, as her scent surrounded me. "God you smell good…"
If it was possible I felt even more turned on than before and only spared enough time to disengage one boot from her panties before making my way back up her legs. My hands caressed her soft skin all the way back up, only stopping to flip her skirt up and out of my way to her warm center. She'd already spread her legs again in anticipation of what was to come and I could see the glistening wetness pleading for my attention. I gripped the tops of her thighs, holding her in place, and leaned in spreading her with my thumbs.
One long, slow lick.
Using the flat of my tongue I moved slowly upward from the bottom to the top of her slit, concentrating slightly more pressure with the steel ball located near the tip. She tasted beyond amazing, her unique flavor covering my lips as I swept upward with another identical lick.
As much as I wanted to feel the contractions of her pussy as she came on my mouth, her sounds of pleasure and the grip she had on my hair became my undoing when I circled her clit and ran the tip of my barbell over her sweet spot.
I had to be in her…now.
Abruptly, I stood up and thrust my tongue into her mouth while I awkwardly shoved my pants down with my free hand. "I'm sorry…I just…need to…feel you."
"Yes…" She shifted forward, closer to the edge of the pool table and started to lean back. "Please…"
I reached around her to support her back with one hand and pushed the eight ball out from underneath her with the other, sending it careening across the table. I ghosted my hand back down her body, my palm rubbing her nipple as I continued down to her supple thigh, before guiding my thick shaft into her. My eyes closed in pure bliss.
Small cries of pleasure punctuated each thrust as I started to move my hips and, unable to resist their call, I opened my eyes to watch her. Bella's head was thrown back, mouth parted in pure pleasure, shoulders rubbing on the felt of the table, and her back arched up begging me to take my fill of her perfect breasts again.
Keeping one hand under her back for the added support, I gripped her thigh with my other hand to help steady our movements as I continued to plunge myself into her. I lowered my mouth to her breasts, and licked her puckered nipple, circling it with my tongue before sucking it between my lips.
Her walls twitched around me and she pleaded for release. I leaned forward, wrapping my arm around her waist, and moved my hand the short distance from her thigh to in between our bodies. Using my thumb, I massaged her clit and sped up my thrusts to increase the friction between us causing her body to tremble with the force of her climax. A combination of her cries and the sensation of her tightening around me with every contraction of her inner walls forced my own orgasm to course through me in a wave of intense heat.
"Ah…fuck! Bella…" I groaned, my knees gave way and collapsed against her trying to keep the bulk of my weight pressed against the table.
I shifted and pulled her back up to a sitting position, clasping our bodies together. I tucked my face into her neck placing a few kisses against her flushed skin.
She leisurely ran her hands over my shoulders and down my back, our breaths eventually evening out. When I finally felt calm enough to speak I raised my head and studied her. I smoothed her hair back from her face and ran the pads of my fingers over her heated skin. "You're so beautiful, and I'm so Goddamn lucky. I love you."
She leaned forward and softly kissed my lips before resting her forehead against my own. "I love you too, Edward."
My heart steadied with her words. I hadn't felt this at peace since before Stacy had died in my arms, and although I knew that nothing was certain, and that I could lose her as easily as I had Stace, the risk was more than worth it.
AN: Thanks for reading. This story is extremely personal to me as the events described actually happened to my friends and I. Hubs was one of the greaser punks that kicked the wannabe thief out of our bar, and our good friend D had just lost his girlfriend, and our dear friend, Stace in June of '99- one month after I met Hubs. Although I didn't know her for long, she had a great impact on my life through those that survived her loss.