Fan Fiction, Sex Gods and Single Girls
A/N: Okay... Fasten your seatbelts. We're going in...
Chapter 10: Into The Lair
The rest of Monday passed rather uneventfully for Bella, although just knowing the Eiffel Tower keychain was in her house, was driving her crazy. She could swear she heard it calling out to her throughout the day.
"Bellaaaa... You know you want to, ma cherie!"
The keychain had a taunting voice, and unsurprisingly, a French accent.
But Bella was a strong woman. She was better than the keychain. She wouldn't cave and relent to inappropriate behavior and niggling curiosity.
"Bella…come 'eeeerre."
Oh, shut up.
At least she had things to do to keep herself distracted.
She wanted to work on her first chapter of From Hate to Heat. There would be little time once school began, and she wanted to get a jump on it while her thoughts about her first few days were still fresh in her mind.
And of course she had to prepare for school. She had literature anthologies, novels, and grammar workbooks, and she wanted to familiarize herself with their contents.
"Belllaaa… Bella, Bella, Bellllaaaaaaaaa!"
"Shut the Eiff up!" Bella snapped into her empty and completely quiet home.
This was ridiculous. The keychain shouldn't be getting to her like it was.
It would be so creepy and stalkerish to scout out the home of someone you barely knew. What kind of a complete lack of integrity would someone have to have, to slink around a stranger's home, looking for clues as to how they lived?
"Bella? Bellaaa, Bella, Bella, Bella-la-la-la! Ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Jeez…maybe a nice cup of tea before bed would be soothing.
However, the keychain did have a valid point. It actually would be nice to see the rest of Edward's house…to see if the same design scheme was carried through upstairs. It wasn't like she wanted to snoop around behind closed doors or in drawers or anything like that. But the fact remained, his house had the reverse floor plan of hers, and it would be interesting to see his design perspective.
As she crawled into bed with her cup of chamomile tea, she was still pondering the house across the way and its enigmatic and irritating owner.
"See you in zee morning, Bellaaaaa! Sweet dreeeeeeaams!"
This is going to be a long night.
oOoOoOoOo
And it was. Bella tossed and turned and just couldn't turn off her brain. She couldn't help contemplating what might be upstairs in Edward's beautifully decorated, photo-spread-perfect, home interior across the street.
It belonged in a luxurious penthouse apartment.
It belonged in her favorite fanfic... "Master of Her Universe."
Maybe he has a "Master" bedroom, like Fifty Flavors, in MoHU...
Holy crap...what if Edward is a damaged Dom, like Ethan was in that fic?
That dream…with my ankles and wrists bound… What if he's really like that?
He did have Domme Enforcer Barbie over that one night…
Maybe he has a dungeon-esque playroom upstairs?
I bet he has a Blue Room of Lewd Behavior.
The Lair of the Dick…she couldn't stop thinking of it that way. It sounded so…predatory and raw...so primal and sexual...and completely unrestrained. She should be so…disgusted… And she was. Of course she was! How could she not be disgusted by this apparent rampant Romeo, this colossal Casanova?
And who exactly were these wanton and willing women? Were they all aware of each other and the way he lived and loved….er…sexed? How many hearts had he broken? And how many bimbos were there, anyway? Was a date with Edward a one-time-only deal? Or was there a monthly starting line-up or rotation format?
Bella chewed her lip, pondering the mysteries of the Dick. In his lair.
It seemed there was more to the local Lothario than met the eye. There was music and art and literature. Didn't that indicate a more sensitive soul? Did he share that side of himself with them? Was that why his prey went so willingly into the lair? For the promise of something beyond the sex-god physique and gorgeous good looks? Wouldn't those interesting varied interests of his make him more interesting?
Maybe he needs all those women because of his own…varied interests.
As night turned into the early hours of the next day, Bella finally drifted into a fitful sleep, filled with sordid dreams in black and grays and pale blue...
Ethan Collins sat in a black leather club chair, naked, holding an artist's palette as he painted on a canvas. Pat Robinson sat in a second leather club chair, also naked, reading aloud from a book of poetry. A pout-lipped Edward Cullen, naked except for black silk pajama pants, sat at the gleaming grand piano, his dexterous fingers ghosting along the keyboard, playing a haunting melody. A naked Bella Swan was lying atop the piano, reveling in it all, because it was all just too good to be true.
Edward suddenly tossed his sheet music carelessly over his shoulder, rose from the piano bench, and stalked sinuously and slowly up onto the piano like the predator he was. Somehow the music miraculously continued on as he hovered over her, poised and naked now, gazing down with green and glowing feral eyes, taking her, ravaging her, thrusting in time with the building tempo. And as the music reached its thrilling crescendo…so did Bella.
"Oh, God… Ohmygod... Yes! YES! Play me Piano Man! Make my body SING!"
Bella eyes snapped open. She blinked in confusion as she came...to her senses...alone and in her bed.
"Holy freak-fest... I should be writing these dreams down as one-shots."
A taunting voice called out from downstairs.
"Bellaaaa! Ooooh-la-la! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
It was Tuesday morning and Bella had an appointment with the cable company to hook up her cable today. A representative would arrive between the hours of eight and noon, so she would be unable to pick up Edward's newspaper and mail and tour his house until the afternoon.
After showering, dressing, and eating, she fired up her computer to check for messages.
She'd gotten a few reviews from a new reader who had just stumbled upon Beyond the Hills So Green. It was always a nostalgic trip down memory lane, to hear a reader's views of chapters she'd written ages ago.
The fourth email was a reply from Star-A-holic, regarding Bella's request for a banner.
From: stripedbeagle aol
To: B_the_Swan gmail
Subject: Heeeerre banner, banner, banner!
BB!
OMG! Bellybeans! I love it! I am sooooooooooo happy you want me to make another banner! Big cyberhugs and kisses! *Star-Ho jumps up and down like an Alexa Collins on Red Bull*
"From Hate to Heat" sounds so sexy! I love the idea…little Teacherella and the big bad Playboy! I can just see it now! They'll fall in love and she'll teach him a thing or two in the process! ROFL
*Star-Ho taps Ethan's shoulder* "Just you wait, Big Boy… That girl is going to be your undoing!" *Star-Ho walks away giggling her ass off*
I have the BEST photo for the center of the banner! It's subtle but sexy! Like Stella! I'll sort through photos of the actors...Pat Robinson, Krystal Schubert, Jefferson Rawbone, Ashlyn Grey, Leland Klutz, and Rickie Leeds and I'll get something together and send you what I come up with.
*Giggles and rubs hands together evilly* "This is going to be amazing!"
Laters, bb!
Star-Ho
Bella sent her a quick thank you, and for the rest of the morning she worked on her story, while waiting for the cable guy.
By 11:45 she had made progress on her chapter, but the cable guy had yet to arrive. And then, just minutes before noon, she got a call. There had been a mix-up. Her appointment had been skipped, but someone would be out this afternoon, between one and five.
Of course. Because I have nothing better to do with my day than hang around and wait.
But wait, she did, and the cable company van finally showed up at 3:50, but since the lines were already in place, the technician assured her the job wouldn't take long.
While Bella waited for him to finish, she took a trip out to her mailbox, and found two pieces of mail: a neighborhood newsletter and a card.
She glanced at the Tampa Bay, Florida return address on the card's envelope and she smiled. Inside was a "Congratulations on Your New Home" card from her mother and step-father. The "Y" on the word "Your" had been enclosed in parentheses in pen, so the card actually read, "Congratulations on (Y)our New Home." She shook her head and smiled as she read the enclosed note.
Hi Bella-Baby!
Phil told me I was silly to change the front of the card, but I know you're still thinking of your new place as "ours" since we helped with the down payment. But as you make the place your own, and pay your mortgage, it will truly be yours!
I'm glad you're living in a nice, safe neighborhood. And we'll have a comfortable place to stay when we visit! Whenever Tampa plays the Mariners, I can stay behind when Phil leaves with the team, and we can just hang out!
I'm glad we got to do some "back-to-school" and furniture shopping earlier this month. Hope you're having sweet dreams in that new bed!
Have you met any nice neighbors?
Can't wait to hear how things are going. Send pictures!
Good luck at work. We'll be thinking of you on your first day. So proud of you, Baby!
Love you,
Mom and Phil
Bella smiled as she headed back inside. She would definitely take some pictures to send in a reply, but skip mention of her dreams or neighbor.
The last thing Mom needs to know about is my Sex God neighbor and his Fine Arts.
Looking at The Skyline Townehome Association Report community newsletter next, Bella noticed it's acronym would be STAR and wondered if it was a coincidence. The newsletter was brief, with reminders about parking rules, cleaning up after pets, and prompt removal of trash and recycling bins after pick-up on Wednesdays. There was mention of an up-coming monthly association board meeting and a list of board members and committees. There was also a blurb about the future re-paving of streets in the community.
The streets must be an issue for everyone, not just barefoot Assholes in sex-pants.
Just as Bella finished perusing the flyer, the cable guy announced he was finished the hook-ups.
Bella now had cable TV in her living room and bedroom, a functioning desk top computer in her office, and her landline telephone worked house phone would be handy if a friend dropped by. With a call from the front gate, she could buzz guests in without them having to speak with the guard.
As soon as she shut the front door behind the cable guy, It began yelling at her.
"BELLAAAA! Come, come, come! Now we go-go-GO!"
She glanced at the Eiffel Tower keychain on the table in the entryway, half expecting to see it skipping about or dancing the Can-Can. Biting her lip nervously, but feeling determined, she grabbed up the keychain and headed out the door.
She was halfway down her walkway when a large vehicle came into view up at the corner. It turned onto Stardust Lane and came barreling down the street. A huge, black, ominous-looking Jeep Hummer, with flashy chrome rims, and dark tinted windows. The sort of vehicle the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse might choose if they traded in their horses for a more modern means of transportation.
As the big Jeep approached, Bella heard a thundering, thumping baseline blaring though the closed windows of the vehicle. The vibrating thrum pulsed straight through her body as the Hummer made the loop at the end of Stardust Lane. It pulled up in front of Edward's house, came to a stop, and the car and air were both suddenly silent and still.
Bella stood on her driveway, wondering if she should let the person in the vehicle know Edward wasn't home, though if the person went to the front door he would find that out for himself. She was about to turn back to her own home when the driver's door opened, and a huge, muscle-bound guy climbed out. Looking straight at her.
"Bella?" he called out.
How...? Who...? What...?
"Y-yes?" Bella replied cautiously, frowning and wondering if she should feel, as he closed the car door and strode across the street in her direction.
But then she saw his face more clearly as he approached. His curly, close cropped hair framed a boyish face, with deep dimples and blue twinkling eyes. He had affable and likeable written all over him, and Bella found herself relaxing and liking him instantly, though he hadn't said more than her name. He towered over her like a giant, and the sleeves of his white polo shirt were having a hard time containing his biceps, but his shirt was tucked neatly into black warm-up pants, and a pair of expensive athletic shoes finished off his look.
"Hi, Bella, I'm Emmett McCarty...a friend of Edward's." He extended his big, beefy hand and she shook it.
"Hi, I'm Bella Swan." She felt immediately foolish and added, "But you already knew that, so I'm also redundant."
He chuckled. "Well, I knew about the Bella, but not the Swan. It's all good." He grinned. "Anyway…Edward called this afternoon and asked me to swing by after work and try to track you down. He forgot tomorrow would be trash day and asked me to put his trash and recycling out for him."
"Oh," Bella replied, remembering the note in the STAR flyer. "I could have done that."
Emmett smiled. "He didn't have any way of contacting you. And he already felt like he was putting you out, asking you to pick up his mail and papers. He realized he could have just hidden a set of keys for me to get his stuff. So he sends his apologies and I'm here to collect his keys."
Bella blushed, immediately feeling bad. Picking up Edward's mail and papers wasn't an ordeal, by any means.
"I really don't mind," she said. "He's not putting me out."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, it's not a problem. I mean, I live right here." Bella gestured over her shoulder. "In fact I was just going to go get his mail and newspaper right now." She held up the little keychain, proving her point. "I can take the trash out, too."
"Well, I'll do the trash thing, you do the mail and paper thing, okay, Little Swan?"
Bella smiled at how easily he doled out a nickname to someone he'd just met. And she found herself not minding. This guy seemed like a big brother just moments after meeting him.
"Okay."
"So you just moved in, huh?" Emmett asked as they started across the street.
"Yeah, I'm the new kid on the block."
He grinned. "Well, welcome to the hood."
"Thanks. Do you live in the neighborhood, too?"
"Nah, I live about fifteen miles from here, but I work pretty close by."
"Oh. What do you do?"
"I co-own and manage a gym. Edward and I are business partners." He pointed to the logo on his shirt and Bella read the words Gymerica Elite.
"Oh." Bella nodded as they got to Edward's house.
So Edward co-owns a gym with Emmett… He's a small business owner.
Not what I expected. At least he has a job.
Emmett waited outside as Bella opened the garage door from inside. He wheeled the bins to the curb, while Bella set the mail on the counter and checked to see if Edward's kitchen trash needed to be emptied. But that had been done, probably by the cleaning lady.
Emmett came into the great room from the garage and Bella heard the hum of the garage door closing.
"Are you a Mariners fan?" Emmett asked, strolling into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry...?" Bella asked in confusion.
"Mariners at Texas Rangers?" He looked at his watch. "The game's just about to start. I'm gonna to catch it here." He nodded toward the great room. "Edward's TV and sound system are awesome. You'll feel like you're right there at Rangers Ballpark."
"Oh. Um…yeah… Baseball's great. My dad's a big Mariners fan."
"Cool," he replied, opening the refrigerator.
He's staying? So there's no snooping? Oops. I mean…I won't be able to admire Edward's home?
"Want a beer?" Emmett asked as he peered into Edward's refrigerator. "We got Blue Moons, Heinekens, Rainier Ale and a few bottles of Arrogant Bastard."
Bella snickered at that last one. Of course Edward had Arrogant Bastard.
I wonder if they make baseball caps?
"He also has these." Emmett held a bottle aloft and Bella's jaw dropped.
Stella Artois? Stella?! Ethan…I mean Edward…drinks Stella! How perfect is that?
"There's also waters and Diet Cokes," Emmett added as an afterthought.
"Oh, uh, no thanks, I'm good."
Emmett moved to the pantry, opening the door and surveying the contents.
"Look at this. I dare you to find anything fun to eat. Well, except for this." He nudged a few things aside, reached in the back, and withdrew a bag of Chips Ahoy chocolate-chip cookies. "And these taste like crap compared to the real thing." He shook his head, returning the cookies to their hiding place.
Bella stood next to Emmett, looking at the contents of Edward's pantry. There was a bevy of beverages: bottled waters, Diet Coke, bottles of various mixers, bottles of wine, and several six packs of beers. On the shelves above, were big plastic containers of protein powders, boxes of protein bars, a big bag of brown rice, oatmeal, natural grain cereals, packages of dried fruits and nuts, peanut butter, a loaf of wheat bread, two boxes of whole wheat crackers, several cans of soup, pastas—mostly whole wheat, and several jars of pasta sauce, miscellaneous sauces, and a jar of salsa. Emmett picked up the latter.
"Does this make any sense to you?"
At Bella's look of confusion, Emmett explained further. "Salsa, he has, but I dare you to find the tortilla chips that go with it." He shook his head and replaced the jar. "At least I thought to bring these." He pulled a package of beer nuts out of a pocket and grinned proudly.
Bella thought of her own Twizzlers, potato chips, pretzels and Cheese Nips at home. Edward probably wouldn't be caught dead eating Lucky Charms cereal.
"I take it Edward doesn't eat much junk food," she said.
"Understatement," Emmett replied, shutting the pantry door. "He's always watching his girlish figure." Emmett grinned as he walked over and plopped on one of the couches, uncapped his beer, and picked up the remote control for the TV.
Well, he does have a nice girlish figure…uh...masculine physique. There's not an ounce of fat on that amazing half-naked body I saw that first day.
"I should probably get going..." Bella said a little reluctantly as Emmett turned on the TV.
"Stick around and watch the game if you'd like," Emmett replied as he found the channel and turned up the volume. There must have been speakers throughout the room, because the sound of a baseball game suddenly surrounded her.
"Well, maybe for a few innings," Bella agreed, realizing she might be able to learn a few things about Edward, though she certainly didn't want Emmett to think she was prying.
"Come on! Let's get this game started!" Emmett yelled at the TV, making Bella jump in surprise. And then she smiled. Charlie was probably sitting at home right now, yelling the same thing at his TV.
Emmett took a swig of his beer and patted the couch. "Have a seat, Pete."
"So, how do you know Edward?" Bella asked as she sat down.
"We were roommates in college," He said as he began opening the package of beer nuts.
"Here in Seattle?"
Emmett's eyes were glued back on the TV, his mouth hanging open slightly, like a child watching a cartoon.
"Huh?" he asked, turning to look at her and extending the now-opened package of beer nuts toward her, offering her some.
Bella shook her head. "No thanks. I…um… I was wondering if you and Edward attended college here, in Seattle?"
"Oh. No, we met at Dartmouth, freshman year." He turned back to the TV, tossed some beer nuts into his mouth, and chased them with a swig of beer.
Dartmouth? As in Ivy League, New Hampshire, Dartmouth?!
"Really? Are you both originally from here or the East Coast?"
"Edward grew up here in Seattle, but I'm originally from Olympia. I think they put us together in the dorm just because we were both from Washington. That was practically all we had in common. But we got along and roomed together every year after that. Ed's like a brother to me."
Bella nodded, deciding she'd better not ask too much more if he and Edward were that close. Anything she said or asked would probably find its way back to Edward and she didn't want him getting the wrong idea, thinking she was interested in him.
That would be asking for trouble…or an STD.
"So Edward really likes to read?" Bella wondered aloud, looking at the bookshelves surrounding the TV.
"Sorry?" Emmett tore his eyes away from the TV and followed her line of sight, looking at the wall of books. "Oh, yeah, he reads like a fiend. I couldn't read this many books if I lived forever. But he's always got a half dozen books going at once. I dunno how he can keep them straight. I'd get confused."
He looked back at the TV. "Come, on, Hernandez! What are you walking him for?! Throw strikes!"
"Do you think it would be okay if I looked at Edward's books?" Bella asked.
"Sure. Ed wouldn't care. Knock yourself out, Little Swan."
Bella spent a good hour looking at the vast wall of books while Emmett continued to yell, cheer, and applaud at the TV.
Edward's books were obsessively organized: alphabetical by subject matter, and then by author or topic. There were sections devoted to art, biographies, business and economics. The fiction section included classics in British and American literature, historical fiction, horror, mystery, poetry, romance, and science fiction. There were also books on health and fitness, history, philosophy, self-improvement, and travel. All alphabetical. Like a bookstore. Or a library.
Bella was astounded. It couldn't just be the cleaning lady who kept things so orderly.
What a neat freak. Dewey Decimal couldn't be more organized than Edward Cullen.
Bella's stomach growled and she looked at the clock. It was getting late and she was getting hungry. Emmett was absorbed with the game, sucked into the vortex of sports on TV. Bella spoke up between innings, during a commercial break.
"Hey, Emmett, I think I'm going to head home. Thanks for letting me hang out and check out Edward's books. It was nice meeting you."
"No problem Little Swan. I'll see you tomorrow when I come back for the trash cans," he said, getting up from the couch to walk her out.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I can put them back. It's silly for you to drive over when I live right across the street." Bella checked to make sure she still had Edward's keychain in her pocket.
"You sure?" he asked, scratching his head.
"Sure. I don't mind."
"Well, okay. I'll shut the lights and lock up when the game's over."
Bella nodded. "Okay, Emmett. Bye-bye."
"Bye, Little Swan. Take care," he said, waving and giving her a dimply smile.
What a nice guy! Too bad that didn't rub off on Edward when they were roommates. They seem like such opposites.
oOoOoOoOo
Three hours later, Emmett's Hummer was still parked outside Edward's house.
Crapdammit!
"C'est la vie, Bellaaa!"
"Shut up, before I take a hammer to you!"
Bella sighed in frustration. The game had gone into extra innings and the score was still tied. Bella knew that for a fact. She and the Eiffel Tower keychain had been sitting on the couch together, watching the game, as Bella worked on her story. At least up until this point, the keychain had had the decency to not rub in the fact that Bella hadn't been able to go exploring.
She finally gave up and went back out into the kitchen. She knew she couldn't return that night. She didn't want the neighbors reporting anything suspicious to Edward. But at least she had learned a few more things about him, she thought to herself, as she assembled the ingredients to make a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Cookies which were far superior to Chips Ahoy store-bought, crappy cookies.
Later that night, Bella was at Safeco Field, home of the Seattle Mariners. In her dreams, of course. She was sitting in a field box seat. Emmett sat to her left, eating beer nuts and drinking beer. He was yelling and cheering at the game, and making comments to Pat Robinson and Ethan Collins, seated on the other side of him. To Bella's right sat Edward Cullen. On his lap was a Tupperware container of homemade chocolate chip cookies. He alternately took a bite out of a cookie and held the remainder of the cookie out for Bella, feeding her bites off the same cookie. He didn't seem to realize there was a game going on, or that they were even at Safeco Field. He only had eyes for Bella.
"At least that dream was G-Rated," Bella commented aloud, upon awakening Wednesday morning.
Tomorrow Edward would return, and she would be at school for meetings and classroom set-up. On today's agenda she had only five things: Pick up Edward's newspaper, check out his house, work on her chapter, collect his mail, and check out his house.
That's right. Twice. Just in case.
After showering, dressing, and eating breakfast, Bella walked from room to room in her home, taking pictures. She uploaded them onto her computer, dashed off a quick message to her mom and Phil, attached the photos, and hit send.
There. I've waited plenty long enough.
Bravo, Bellaaaa! Bravo!
Don't make me get the hammer.
Bella went to her kitchen, picking up the Tupperware container of Chocolate Chip cookies she had baked. She grabbed the little Eiffel Tower keychain and headed out the door and across the street.
She took a deep breath as she let herself into the quiet house. The lemony scent was only vaguely noticeable today. In the kitchen, she set the keychain on the counter and placed the newspaper and homemade cookies next to the previous day's mail.
She walked through the great room and into the garage, opening the door and listening to the hum of the automatic door opener. The trash had been picked up earlier, so she dragged the bins inside the garage and shut the garage door.
In the kitchen, she toured the contents of Edward's refrigerator. There were bottles of white wine, condiments, olives and pickles on the door. Low fat milk, non-dairy creamer and orange juice were on the top shelf, followed by the beverages Emmett had offered her on the next shelf. Farther down, was a carton of eggs, a yogurt container, and packages of cheese and sliced turkey. A few vegetables were in the crisper and the next drawer held a few apples. The freezer was mostly empty. Besides the obvious ice cubes, there were a couple frozen pizzas, and bags of frozen vegetables, and berries. There was also a bottle of Patron tequila and some Stolichnaya Elit vodka.
Edward didn't appear to be much of a cook. Bella couldn't imagine that. She loved cooking.
Maybe he eats his meals out with his bimbo du jour?
Bella found herself wondering if any of his bimbos ever cooked for him.
Too bad he doesn't have a housekeeper who cooks for him, like Mrs. Cooper did for Fifty Flavors in MoHU.
Bella walked into the living room and after a moment, sat on the big black leather couch, imagining that she was listening, as piano music filled the room. Then she stood and went to the piano, opened the lid over the keys, and played a few notes before replacing the cover. There was no sheet music out, so she peeked in the bench. It was filled with music and books, from classical to contemporary. There was even blank sheet music.
Bella was stunned.
Well, slap me with a treble clef! Edward composes?!
She closed the bench and looked no further. It seemed too intimate and personal to look at music Edward had written. That was like prying into his soul. A creation like that was the sort of thing that should be given, rather than taken.
Bella stood and looked around, spying the patio door.
She walked back through the great room, opening the drapes and sliding door. Outside was a glass-topped table and matching chairs, with striped cushioned seats. Beyond the table was a fire ring with more chairs surrounding it. At the far right end of the backyard was a gazebo, enclosed on all sides, save for about a foot of open space, just below the rooftop. Bella walked across the yard to it, opened the door, stepped inside, and turning on a light switch. The room was bathed in the glow of several strands of twinkle lights, hanging above in the rafters.
Wow... A mostly-enclosed hot tub, with sparkly twinkle lights, like stars.
Oh, Edward, you steamy Sex-monkey!
Bella turned off the light, shut the door, and headed back across the yard to the patio. She noticed a coiled hose, and decided to water the potted plants along the edge of the patio. Passing the fire ring, she spotted a piece of trash near the base and bent to pick it up. But it wasn't paper. It was fabric. Black silk fabric. And the edges were singed. She gasped, realizing it must be a piece of the pajama pants Edward had…greeted her in...just days ago. She burst into a fit of giggles, imagining him, so pissed off that he must have burned his pants in the fire pit, to punish them.
Who does that?
She looked around the yard, imagining him trying to climb the high block wall, getting scraped up in the process, and ripping his luxurious sex-pants, before coming to borrow her ladder. She doubled over, laughing even harder now, visualizing him pulling the pants off in anger, dousing them with lighter fluid, and torching them. Then standing there naked, watching them go up in smoke.
Wait… He was standing out here? Right here? Naked?!
That's ridiculous. He probably put on other clothing, and then burned them.
Still, the thought that maybe he had burned them, while standing there naked, made it a little easier to live with the fact that he had seen her dancing and singing into her hairbrush that same night. He might just be as screwy as she was on occasion. Smiling, she pocketed the little scrap of fabric.
She went back inside then, closing and locking the patio door, and shutting the drapes. Walking over to the stairway that led upstairs, she stood for a moment, chewing her lip and hugging herself. Internally, she was suffering a great debate: should she or shouldn't she?
I really shouldn't.
But you want to.
But I shouldn't.
But you're going to.
What if he finds out?
How's he ever going to know? Just don't touch anything.
She threw her hands up in the air in resignation.
"Okay, fine. I'm going. I'm doing this. I'm not liking myself, but I can't not do this."
And then the doorbell rang and Bella nearly peed herself.
She tiptoed over and peered through peephole, just able to make out the retreating figure of a deliveryman, and beyond him, a FedEx truck. As the truck pulled away, Bella opened the door and picked up the package on the doorstep.
The return address meant nothing to her but the package was addressed to Edward A. Cullen.
A?
I wonder what the A stands for.
Asshole would be the obvious choice.
Hmmm…
Arthur?
Too knightly.
Abraham?
Too honest.
Arnold?
Too formerly-gubernatorial and adulterous.
Adolf?
Good God. Don't even go there!
Adonis?
A little too Greek to me.
Alexander?
Too Great.
Angus?
Way too beefy.
Atticus?
Too literary.
Allen?
Edward...Allen Cullen? Too much rhyming going on there.
Andrew? Or Anthony?
Hmmm... Possibly one of those.
Bella placed the package on the kitchen counter, next to the container of cookies.
Then she headed for the stairway, checking for any telltale sexcapade scuff marks along the walls as she climbed the stairs. But there weren't any.
She didn't head directly into the master bedroom. She wanted to pace herself in the Dickcave, saving the most sordid for last. The downstairs had been the main course, now the upstairs would be the dessert...a veritable ice cream sundae. Which would make the Lair of the Dick the chocolate syrup on top, and his bed would be… Well, it would be the cherry.
And she couldn't wait to pop it.
But first there was foreplay… Two other bedrooms and a guest bathroom to scope out first.
At the top of the stairs Bella entered the first bedroom. It was being used as a home gym with a treadmill, elliptical trainer, weight bench, and weights. A TV hung on the wall, and an iPod dock stood on a counter, next to a small stack of fluffy white towels. A fan hung overhead and one whole wall was covered in mirrors.
No wonder he's in such great shape.
The guest bathroom was next. It was done in the same materials and color scheme as downstairs, and a pair of men's black boardshorts hung over the shower stall.
Must have hot-tubbed it recently, huh Sex-monkey?
Bella moved on to the second spare bedroom. The door was shut. She put her hand on the knob and…
Nothing.
It was locked.
Locked?
Who locks a guest bedroom door?
And why?
Oh…
OH HOLY FREAKING KINKAZOID! IT'S HIS BLUE ROOM OF LEWD BEHAVIOR!
Bella stood in the dim hallway, hugging herself, staring at the locked door, willing herself to have X-ray vision. She imagined stark, leather-topped benches and tables, polished and gleaming woodwork, karabiners and straps and chains (Oh my!), dangling from the ceiling. A St. Andrew's cross, dominant and forbidding, and a rack holding all manner of arousing and fear-inspiring flagellatory devices.
"Oh. Fuck. Me." Bella squeaked.
NO! No, don't! I don't mean it!
Well, maybe…
Isabella Marie, have you lost your mind?
Perhaps…
You know, this room might not necessarily be a playroom.
Then why would the door be locked?
Good question.
Bella began stumbling backwards, still hugging herself, still lacking X-ray vision, but no longer needing it. Her mind had presented her with a likely visual of the room behind the door…and the secret behind the man. The fact that he wasn't all about the vanilla…he was more into...the rocky road.
She stood for a moment, gathering her resolve, her wits, and her curiosity. She took a deep breath and nodded.
Okay, it's time. I can do this.
I'm going in... Into the Lair.
She looked into Edward's bedroom from the doorway. The walls were a soft and restful blue-gray. His bed was huge and so inviting…
But she would wait and save the cherry for last. First she would check out the master bath.
It was luxurious, with the same stone floor tiles and sparkling glass wall tiles surrounding the mirror, as downstairs. Only on a broader scale. The sink was a beautiful glass bowl of swirling pale blue, sitting atop the glinting pale gray and black granite countertop of the cream cabinet.
Bella looked at the medicine chest on the side wall, trying to use of her X-ray vision, but finally giving up and prying the door open with her pinky.
DO NOT touch anything! You didn't bring tongs or rubber gloves! Who knows what the cleaning lady might have missed!
The top shelf held bottles of aspirin, ibuprofen, cold medicine, and cough syrup. On the next shelf was a package of bandages, an ACE bandage wrap, and a tube of cream for sore muscles.
He probably gets pulled groin muscles.
The following shelf held several razors, a nail clipper, several nail files, and tweezers.
He plucks his eyebrows? Or maybe his wood gives him splinters?
Bella giggled and went back to her investigation, noticing a tube of jock itch cream.
Hmm…some of his friends with benefits must be friends with drawbacks. At least there's no azithromycin prescription for something worse than a rash.
On the bottom shelf was shaving cream, deodorant, baby powder, mouthwash, and two matching amber-colored bottles of after shave and cologne. The aftershave and cologne were a name she'd never heard of before…Prédateur.
Really, Edward? You have GOT to be kidding me!
Bella picked up the bottle of cologne, spritzed her wrist, and brought it to her nose.
GAH! IT'S THE BIG BOWL OF SEXY!
She inhaled another big whiff of the magical potion and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head.
God... "Prédateur." How apt. One whiff and he can drag his prey right back to his lair.
I'm just going to keep my wrist stuck to my nose for the rest of the day.
She replaced the bottle and closed the cabinet. Opening a drawer beneath the sink, she found a toothbrush, dental floss, and toothpaste.
In the opposite drawer were hair products of varying consistencies, though no brush or comb.
Maybe that's the secret to that sexified, just-fuckified hair of his, since he suffers from eternal bed-head.
Actually it's probably the women who suffer, looking at that, wanting to run their fingers through that fine mess.
The lower cabinets held other necessary bathroom supplies: toilet paper, tissues, cleaning products, a blow dryer, and rechargeable clippers.
Bella inspected the large bathtub. It was wide with high sides and a sloping back, certainly long enough for someone of Edward's height to relax and recline. It seemed roomy enough for two and that was probably the point.
Bella peeked into the large shower stall next and saw amber-colored bottles of bodywash and shampoo. You guessed it. Prédateur. Because when you find something that works for you, you should just roll with it.
Like a steamroller. A steamy steamroller.
The scent must be destroying my brain cells.
The shower enclosure had state-of-the art shower heads at various intervals, a hose attachment, and an oversized rainshower showerhead directly above the center. Bella noticed two suction cupped handles, angled slightly, high up on either side of one wall.
Why would anyone need those up there?
She opened the door and stepped inside, raising her arms and grasping the handles. She tested them, pulling slightly and then jumping a little and pulling herself up with the handles at the same time. Realization slammed through her, causing her to blush profusely. They would be perfect to hang onto while having shower wall sex…because you wanted stability in your shower wall sex. The handles might also be good for a guy to hang onto for support if he was receiving state-of-the-art shower...head.
Bella quickly exited the enclosure and the bathroom, and stepped into Edward's bedroom. Facing his immense bed. Because when you're the King of Sex you want a bed to match. His was a King-sized, four-poster bed with dark wood posts and a sleek, satiny, steel gray duvet, covering what surely was a down comforter. There were just the two usual pillows and one smaller striped toss pillow…Edward apparently didn't like too many pillows.
Bella wondered if the bedding was slippery, since it was satiny.
There were two low matching dressers in the room. One, to the side of the bed, had a mirror on the wall above it. The other dresser faced the bed, with a large flatscreen TV above it. Both dressers had a few cream colored pillar candles on pewter trays. She could tell by the wicks that the candles weren't merely decorative. She picked up a candle and smelled it. It wasn't scented like a predator. It was sandalwood.
Wow… Imagine being in the Lair with the Dick…smelling like a predator…setting the sex scene with a sandalwood scent.
I'd do him.
That's a laugh. You've never done anybody. You wouldn't know what to do…to do…the Dick.
I'd learn fast. I'd give it my all. Everything about him would look and smell amazing. He'd lure me right in.
And you'd be tossed aside for the next girl in the line up. Just another bimbo on the calendar.
Bella reached out to set the candle back into place. And somehow dropped it.
She watched in horror as it bumped against the dresser on its way down to the carpet.
Crap! Oh, crap! Please don't be broken!
Thank goodness, the candle was still in one piece. But it had a definite dent on one side.
Damn it! How could I be so effing clumsy?
She set the candle back on the tray, turning it so the dent was in the back. It stood there perfectly straight. Edward would never notice the dent unless he looked for it. And if he was using the candle, his mind would no doubt be on other things. Like the bedding of bimbos.
Turning away, Bella noticed a black cushion in the corner. A large, wedge-shaped thing. The kind of cushion you might use if you had back problems. Or wanted to explore various sex positions more comfortably.
That explains that.
Unable to stop herself, or pretend she had any common sense or common decency left, she sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing in place to test the mattress. She leaned over to smell the pillow, trying to pick up the scent of a predator. But the sheets just smelled freshly laundered. So she smelled her wrist instead, as she lay back on the bed, with her head on his pillow, testing out the slippery duvet.
Not too bad. Edward is definitely a very sensual dick.
Looking forward, Bella wondered what he watched on TV while in bed. Did he watch the news? Sitcoms or educational programs? DVD's?
He probably watches pornos.
Oh holy crap, he doesn't make ho-porno up here, does he?
Bella leaned up on her elbows, looking at the bedside tables, with their matching brushed steel lamps. The nearest nightstand held a stack of books, and she remembered Emmett mentioning Edward was always reading a few books at any given time. She turned the stack to see the titles on the spines. The first two hinted at Karma, possibly biting Bella in the ass at some future point in time: The Portrait of a Spy and Now You See Her. The next book was Reckless Endangerment, which might make a good name for a musical based on Edward's proclivities. The bottom book was Bella's personal favorite: Slow Sex: the Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm.
Edward does research. And he's got plenty of lab rats.
Bella sat up and looked at the drawer of the nightstand.
She wanted it to open of its own accord.
She didn't really want to stoop that low. Or snoop that low. But unfortunately her X-ray vision still hadn't kicked in.
Screw it! I'm going to hell already…I might as well break all the rules now!
You know what's in there. You don't need to look.
I want to look.
"Belllaaa... Do it, ma cherie! Look-look-look!"
"Leave me the Eiff alone! I can make my own decisions, merci beaucoup!"
"Bellaaaa est une chieeeeeenne!"
"I know you're calling me a bitch, you little shithead! Now shut the hell up!"
Bella took a deep breath, collected herself, reached forward tentatively, extending a single finger, poised to pry the drawer open. She paused and placed her other hand over her eyes, peeking between her fingers. If she covered her face, perhaps the contents of the drawer wouldn't see her looking.
She leaned forward…peeked…and then quickly slammed the drawer shut. In the few seconds she'd allowed herself to peekk, she'd seen condoms, two bottles of something lube-ish and a copy of The Modern Kama Sutra: The Ultimate Guide to the Secrets of Erotic Pleasure. She also saw something that may have been a blindfold.
Suddenly Bella realized she heard a humming sound. Or maybe it was a buzzing sound. Wait…it was two sounds…one humming and one buzzing.
Her hand was already reaching out to the lower, larger drawer of the nightstand, where the buzzing sound appeared to be located, but her subconscious told her it was far more important to concentrate on the humming sound.
Why? What?
The humming sound was a mechanical sort of noise, in the not-too-far distance, almost like a garage door lifting.
OH, FUCK!
The humming sound was now accompanied by a familiar, deep rumbling sound...the kind of sound the Dickmobile would make as it pulled into the garage.
SHIT! Oh shitshitshitshit! He's HOME?
The rumbling quit suddenly. And then she heard a thud as a car door shut.
CRAP! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! He's home a day early! Crapcrapcrapcrap!
The second sound she had heard, the buzzing sound, was now accompanied by random little thumping sounds and she realized this combination of buzzing, thumping sounds was emanating the bottom drawer of the nightstand. Something in that drawer was buzzing and thumping. Rotating, perhaps.
Bella stood up, staring at the nightstand in horror. There was some kind of sex toy in there. There was no doubt about that. And it had somehow turned on when she had slammed the top drawer shut.
There was a sudden thud, though it wasn't Bella keeling over. It was probably a car trunk being shut.
FUCK! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, I am so fucked! I'm so busted! I'm so fucking busted! Holy freaking fucktoy… He's home!
She heard the humming sound of the garage door closing.
Damn it! He's home and I've been on his bed and in his bedroom and shower and medicine chest and upstairs where I have no business being and I'm in his house for no good reason and he's home a goddamned day early!
She kicked the offending nightstand. The Buzzthumpinator within continued buzzing and thumping. She kicked the nightstand again, harder, and the buzzing and thumping mercifully ceased.
Bella heard the sound of the door leading from the garage into the great room opening and then slamming shut.
Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she was sweating profusely, and probably about to suffer a heart attack. And he would find her in his bedroom, dead, with the bedding all rumpled.
THE BEDDING! What are you waiting for? Straighten it! Smooth it out! DO IT NOW!
She silently smoothed the duvet and pillow, trying not to breathe, certain that her heartbeat could be heard throughout the house...a whole new spin on The Telltale Heart.
Bella tiptoed to the door and heard Edward nearing the kitchen.
Oh, no! The keychain! Shit! I left it on the counter! He knows I'm here! He's going to find me and he'll know I've pried into his private life and snooped in every nook and cranny of his entire fucking house and used his cologne and dented his candle and tried out his bed and now there will probably be a lawsuit and my parents will be so disappointed and I won't have any friends and I'll lose my job and I'll have to move.
"Merde, eh, Bellaaaa? Adieu, ma cherie!
"Ed-waaaaaard! Bonjour mon amoooouuur!"
"What the heck...?"
It was his voice, and his footsteps began making their way across the tile downstairs, nearing the foot of the stairs.
A/N: Eeeep!