A/N at bottom. Mild NSFW


Now That You're Here

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The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. — Oscar Wilde

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Chapter Four

Don't Muzzle Me

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"And they're off!" The announcer shouts.

I crane my neck to see from our box. People cheer, as the horses rush down the track. I smack a hand on top of my head; holding on tightly to the stupid pink fascinator Alice made me wear. The stupid thing keeps trying to fly off with the wind.

"They're going… going!" Announcer guy continues. "Yellow Hat, takes an early lead— Midnight close behind. Eclipse is coming in from the side trying…trying and failing to take the lead. Midnight slips to third. They're coming 'round the bend, coming 'round the bend— Midnight barely holding on to third. Yellow Hat is still in the lead, Eclipse coming in behind. They're getting there…. getting there…. Here he comes ladies and gentleman…. and there we go! Yellow Hat wins the 32nd annual Derby!"

I cheer jovially with the crowd, gasping when my fascinator flies off with the wind. I grab for it, leaning against the railing, but watch as it floats down into the crowd of people below me. Stupid hat. I should feel bad that it's gone, but all I can do is rub my scalp and mentally stick my tongue out at it. Take that, you fabric bubblegum piece of shit.

"What happened to your hat?" Edward asks, coming up behind me.

I turn, surprised that he's not still talking to some of his friends. "It sprouted wings and flew a way." I grumble, crossing my arms and surreptitiously glance down at the patio below.

Edward sees my gaze anyways and lets out a bemused chuckle. "I'll get you another one."

"I don't want another one." I say. I want to be curled up in my bookstore reading a book, like the introvert I am.

"What do you want then?" His eyes are beseeching.

"You know what I want." I say a little harsher than I mean to.

His gaze hardens and he looks away. "We need to go to the club, my brother and his wife are waiting for us." He offers me his arm and I take it, arguing that I'm only doing it because of how unsteady I am in my nude heels, and not because I like the feeling. Nope…. I don't like it…. At all. Denial is my friend.

We follow the crowd of people to the clubhouse and slip right in. The room is what I'd expect any old country club to look like. A mix of white walls and mahogany, the room is large and open—the entire right wall is a window, overlooking the fields below.

"There they are." Edward points to a table at the back and leads me over to it.

I think my ego takes a hit as I take in the beautiful blonde woman who stands to greet us. She's several inches taller than me, her curves filling in her modest red dress wonderfully. "How are you?" She smiles and leans in to hug him, her violet eyes crinkling.

"I'm great." Edward grins, stepping back from the hug and turns to look at who I can only assume to be his brother. "So how much did you lose?"

The curly haired man stands, and I gasp. I don't know how I could have missed him—he's huge: easily 6'3 and a bodybuilder in the making if I ever saw one. "Lose? Are you kidding me? I predicted the winner!"

"Yeah, and he hasn't shut up about it since." Blondie grumbles playfully. Her gaze shifts to me. "Is this your date?"

Not by choice…

"Yes." Edward smiles, turning to look at me. I can see the slight tightening in his eyes. He wants me to behave… "This is Bella. Bella this is my brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie."

"Nice to meet you." I say shyly. I follow their lead and sit down next to the window.

Rosalie's eyes are appraising. "How long have you two known each other?"

"A few weeks." I say, at the same time Edward speaks.

"A while."

She narrows her eyes slightly at Edward.

"How much did you lose?" Emmett speaks, breaking the awkward pause.

"I think the correct statement should be: How much did I win?" He smirks.

Emmett chuckles loudly. "If it's anywhere near how much I won, then I'd say you did pretty damn good brother. How about you Bella? Did you win anything?"

"I didn't bet anything." I say, avoiding Rosalie's curious gaze.

"Probably a good thing." Emmett smiles. "Edward has been known to gloat."

Before Edward can respond to the goading, our waiter arrives and quickly takes our orders.

"How did you two meet?" Rosalie asks after the waiter disappears.

I take a sip of my water, quickly looking over at Edward in panic.

He's not fairing much better. His eyes widen, as if he hadn't expected the Rosalie Inquisition. My inner self throws her hands in the air. Really? Really? He can come up with a way to keep me bound to him, but he can't answer a simple question.

Although I'm not much better…. I'm not even answering her question. I'm just taking the longest sip of water known to man. Don't mind me…

"We met at her bookstore." Edward finally says after a minute.

She narrows her eyes and I can tell she doesn't believe him. Not for a minute. "You own a bookstore? Did you major in business?" She fishes.

"No. English with a minor in History and French." I take another sip of water, feeling proud of my accomplishments.

"Nice." She sounds impressed. "How long have you owned the bookstore?"

"I've only had it for about a year. It was my father's business until he died." I look down at my lap and twist my fingers.

"I'm sorry." And for now, at least, the matter's dropped.

Lunch goes by quickly and I find myself enjoying not just the meal, but the conversation as well. Despite my original misconceptions, Rosalie is very passionate about her charities and organizations. I constantly found myself asking her question after question—even agreeing to help her with an upcoming fundraiser. Emmett is a comic relief: very easy to befriend.

When lunch is over, Rosalie and I exchange numbers so I'll be able to help her with future charity events.

When they leave, I drop my smile and follow Edward out to the car, my good mood quickly declining.

"What's wrong?" Edward asks, picking up on my mood swing. He holds open the door for me and then slides in behind me. The partition is still up.

"Nothing." I say; when in truth I hated how well I'd gotten along with his family. It would have been easier to hate him if his family had been rude. I didn't want to like them as much as I had.

"Did you enjoy the race?" He asks, not pushing me further.

"It was alright." I say, being purposefully vague. "Although I would have preferred to be working right now."

"You'd rather be stuck inside today, working, on a day like today?" He points out the window—to the beautifully clear sky.

"Well unlike some people, I survive on the money I make from my store. I can't just drop whatever I'm doing and still make enough money."

His jaw clenches. "In case you forgot, I have a business of my own and you'll receive money from me—as stated in your contract. A contract which says you would drop whatever it is you're doing."

"Yeah..." I scoff. "… drop whatever I'm doing so you can fuck me. Why don't you just attach a collar and whistle for me when you need your fix."

"Maybe I should get you a muzzle." He mutters under his breath.

I see red. My vision hazes and I don't even think about it. I unbuckle my seatbelt and move my legs until I'm straddling him. "Are you sure about that?" I breathe, smirking at his wide eyes.

I lean forward until my lips are against his strong jaw. I breathe in the fresh clean scent. "If I had a muzzle then I wouldn't be able to do this, would I?" I lick him from chin to ear and then kiss my way down to his collarbone, where I gently suck the skin between my teeth. I hear his breath catch. "I wouldn't be able to tell you how nice you smelled or how smooth your skin is when I touch it." I bite down and smile when I hear a low, breathy moan.

I feel him against my thigh and look up into his darkened gaze as I slowly grind myself against him. "I wouldn't be able to tell you how good you feel against me. How good you taste." He groans, grabbing onto my hips as I push down onto him again.

Slowly, agonizingly slow, I grind my hips into his. I work hard to keep my own mewls at bay, but fail miserably when his grasp tightens on my hips and he suddenly thrusts himself against me. Hard.

I moan, pushing back down onto him, as I feel the delicious warmth slowly spreading through my body. My toes curl, my stomach clenches as I feel it deep within me—winding up, tightening, until with one final push I fall over the precipice.

His grip tightens, almost painfully, as he shoves me into him one last time. "Bella." He moans, holding me against him as he rides out his pleasure. I feel the warmth against us, the heat spreading from his pants.

We're breathing hard, both gazing at each other with surprise and lust filled eyes. It's several minutes before I gain enough strength in my legs to push away from him.

It's quiet for a while, only our breathing is loud enough to fill up the car.

Edward, when his breathing has finally slowed down, speaks. "Remind me to insult you more often."


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I'm alive.

I'm sorry for not posting in a long long while. Junior year of college is rough. And it's been very mentally exhausting as well. Please keep comments tame-ish, I've never published anything like this before.

*runs and hides*