Oh, the theories! I love them.
SarcasticBimbo is my lovely beta with eagle eyes.
CHAPTER TEN — BELLA
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This is a waste of my time.
I'm dressed to impress in a shimmery, dark blue minidress and killer black gladiator heels. My hair and makeup have been done by the masters—Rose and Alice. We're in one of Vegas' hottest clubs … and I'm bored. I don't want to yell over the pounding music, I don't really want to drink, and I don't want to keep having to turn down men who aren't the one I really want.
The guys have gone to get drinks, leaving the three of us alone, looking like fresh meat. I'm slightly mollified by the caliber of some of the men who come inquiring, but the others are weird and creepy, like the Roxbury dudes. I can practically hear "What Is Love" each time one of them approaches. Finally, I decide I can't take anymore. Maybe I can catch Edward on the way out and get him to meet me somewhere.
"I've got a headache," I yell at Alice, even though we're sitting right next to each other on the glowing white couch. Thumping bass vibrates my bones and strobe lights paint the room in a splash of rainbow-colored explosions. If I really had a headache, this place would crack my skull and make my brain melt out of my ears. Truth is, I don't feel like being badgered to dance with a bunch of random men just because Alice and Rose decided I need to live a little. They want to live vicariously through me, is more like it.
"You drank too much at the pool, didn't you?" asks Rosalie, though I have no idea how she heard me, way over on the other side of Alice.
I nod. "Yep. Too many margaritas."
Alice shakes her head. "I told you to stick with vodka. It's cleaner."
What the hell? How can alcohol be clean? "I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you guys in the morning."
Sympathetic, Rose reaches over and pats me on the leg. "We'll try not to wake you up when we get in, okay?"
I smile, actually meaning it. I love Rose, and I'm glad she'll be my sister soon. "Thanks. Don't worry about being too loud. I'm sure you won't wake me."
"Go, lie down. This place isn't great for someone with a headache," Alice yells, wincing. "We'll miss you!"
We hug it out and I make my way toward the exit. As I make my way around the dance floor, I see Edward heading in my direction. When we meet, he doesn't say anything, but takes my hand and leads me from the club. We spill out into the casino, squinting at the bright lighting.
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. "Do you have to go back?"
I grin up at him and shake my head. "Nope. I have a headache." I circle my own arms around his waist and enjoy the feel of him so close.
Bringing a hand up to brush over my forehead, he frowns. "You do? I have some ibuprofen in my bag upstairs—"
"I lied. No headache," I laugh. "But it's so nice you're concerned."
He smirks. "I was just trying to get you up to my room."
I put a hand on his chest and drag it down. "All you have to do is ask."
Dropping his forehead to mine, he chuckles. "You'll be the death of me, woman."
"Why? I'm perfectly willing to let you have your wicked way with me."
He looks as if he's in pain. "We can't, Bella. Not here. I'm sharing a suite with Emmett and Jasper, and you're with Rose and Alice."
"And they're all in the club getting hammered! No one is coming out of there for hours."
Lifting his head to look me in the eyes, he says, "I want all night with you. I don't want the chance of being interrupted hanging over our heads. Bella, when we take that last step … hours won't be enough."
Well, damn. If that's not the hottest, yet sweetest thing I've ever heard. I don't even mind being shot down. I can't even come up with an appropriate response—his argument has scrambled my brain a little.
"You wanna gamble?" he asks, a boyish grin lighting up his face.
I smirk. "I thought you said you didn't want to go upstairs and do it."
Rolling his eyes, he returns, "I meant here. In the casino."
"I know. I had to try."
He just shakes his head and grabs my hand again, towing me toward some table games.
"Let's play slots," I suggest, but he scoffs at me.
"You looking to throw away your money?"
"I could win the jackpot again."
"And monkeys could fly out of my ass."
I giggle. "Okay, Wayne. Should I get on my knees and chant, 'I'm not worthy'?"
"Sure thing, Foxy Lady. But I'd rather you get on your knees and do something else," he whispers in my ear as we reach a Blackjack table.
"Make up your mind, already, Edward," I gripe in a quiet voice as we take our seats at an empty table.
Saying nothing, he just smiles smugly and pulls several bills out of his wallet and lays them on the table with a casino card. "Have you ever played?"
I shake my head. "Not really. I played a couple times at some party in college, but I don't remember much about it other than you want to get to twenty-one." I snort a laugh. "Pretty similar to the first two years of college. We're all just trying to get to twenty-one so we can buy alcohol legally."
The dealer slides over a few stacks of chips and his card. "Five hundred dollars, Mr. Cullen. Good luck."
My eyes go wide as Edward pushes half the chips to me. "Oh, no. I'm just watching you play."
"I'm going to teach you. Consider it a loan; you can pay me back later. I'll also keep any of your winnings," he offers, winking at me.
I can tell there will be no arguing, so I sigh and place a five-dollar chip in the circle. Stubborn man. I can afford this—I did win a jackpot.
"Minimum bet is twenty-five, Miss," the dealer informs me, while Edward snickers and points to a little sign on the side of the table.
Scowling, I put down four more chips. "You're a bad teacher already." Twenty-five bucks a hand? Yikes.
The game begins, and I'm dealt a fourteen. Edward has a twenty, and the dealer shows a five. I'm up first.
Edward stands, and instructs me to do the same.
"But I'm nowhere close to twenty-one," I reason. "I'm losing already."
"You have to assume the dealer's hidden card is a ten. If his top card is six or less, he'll have to draw, and the likelihood of him busting is high. If you hit right now, you'll get his card, and if it's a high one, you'll bust."
"Okay…" I sort of get it. Might take me a few hands, though.
I wave my hand over the cards, and the dealer flips over his bottom card. Ten. He slides another card from the shoe, turns it over, and it's a nine.
Edward grins at me. "See? You did well. I'm a great teacher."
I laugh and shake my head. "We'll see."
He slowly teaches me the game, advising me on when to hit or stand, coaxing me to place higher and higher bets. I go on a huge streak, and while Edward breaks even, I come away with $1500. When we cash in our chips at the cage, I almost piss myself. I try to give him back the money, but he won't hear of it—not even the original $250. I've netted $6500 in less than forty-eight hours. That's more than I make in a semester of TA work. Talk about beginner's luck!
"You can pay for the celebratory drinks," he concedes.
I agree, since drinks out here are ridiculously expensive. We find a dark, swanky bar that's busy, but not packed. A secluded love seat opens up just as we enter, and we snag it immediately. Edward pulls me down on his lap, and I snuggle into his chest, laying my head on his shoulder.
A cocktail waitress comes by and we each order a fancy "craft cocktail" in honor of my Blackjack domination. Edward's has whiskey and mine vodka, but other than that I can't tell you what else is in them. Probably artisanal organic ginger, muddled mountain orchid leaves, and pretentiousness. All I know is they'd better taste good—each one is more expensive than two burrito bowls at Chipotle. But hey, I can afford it tonight.
"That was fun," I tell him as we sip our drinks.
"It always is when you win," Edward says wryly.
"If you'd let me give the money back you'd be the winner." I look at him pointedly.
"I'm already the winner." A slight smile softens his lips as he brushes some hair behind my ear.
His hand cups my neck and pulls me closer, so he can press a chaste kiss to my mouth. He lingers, and the kiss grows into a slow, heated exchange. His tongue swirls over mine and I drink him in, melting into his body. I fist my hands in his shirt, needing an anchor to keep my fingers from wandering to places they shouldn't be in public.
A loud whistle pierces my ears, and we jerk apart.
"Get her, man!"
"Looks like he's already got her, dude."
"Go get it in!"
All the voices are behind me, and I don't dare turn around to see who they're from. On the bright side, none of them are familiar, but I'm still red as a tomato.
Edward just laughs and asks, "Wanna get out of here?"
I nod. Like there's any other answer.
Drinks forgotten, I shove money in the black folio on the table. Edward stands, offering me his hand, and doesn't let go until we reach the suite I share with Rose and Alice. I peek inside to make sure they aren't back yet, then tug Edward inside behind me. I lock the deadbolt and pull the security lever to buy us time if needed.
"I had fun tonight. Learning Blackjack with you was infinitely better than having my ass grabbed by drunk fools all night."
His face goes dark. "Guys were grabbing your ass?"
"I was talking about Rose and Alice." I can't believe I say it with a straight face.
Chuckling, he grabs me by the hips, tugging me into his body. "Much better visual."
"You're a freak."
"All guys are freaks."
"You've got that right."
"But you like me this way." His voice has gone quiet, and we're not joking anymore.
"You know I do." I more than like him.
He squeezes my hips as my hands find their way back to his shirt, which I use to pull him down to me. There's no slow start to this kiss—it starts out incendiary and escalates to an inferno in seconds. We consume each other; we are oxygen and fire. His hands slide to my ass and he yanks me up against him, lifting my feet off the floor. I link my arms around his neck and nip at his lips, tugging with my teeth and soothing with my tongue.
He walks us to the love seat in the sitting area, sinking down with me straddling his lap. The little dress I'm wearing rides up so high almost all of my thigh is visible. Edward takes full advantage, smoothing his palms from hip to knee and back again. I shiver at the feel of his hands on my bare skin and wiggle closer. I can feel him, hard beneath his jeans, and I rock against him again.
He yanks his mouth from mine and drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing hard. "Fuck," he mutters, clamping his hands on my hips to hold me still. "What are we doing?"
I'm not sure if he's asking a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway. "You know, that thing boys and girls do when they like each other?"
Edward's body shakes under mine, and when he lifts his face to mine, his eyes shine with laughter, matching his grin. He's beautiful, and right now I want nothing more than to make him feel good.
"Just go with it. I want to make you feel good. Let me, please?"
We stare at one another for what seems like forever, and then he starts sliding his hands up and down my thighs again, achingly slow. I lower my head and drag my mouth along his jaw, the scruff there making my lips tingle. I do it again, then kiss a line down his throat as I begin rocking my hips again. Edward tips his head back and a low moan escapes his lungs. One of his hands wanders up and threads into my hair, pulling my head up for a kiss. I place a hand on his face, feeling his mouth move with mine.
His other hand slips beneath my dress, fingers sliding past the lace of my panties. I whimper against his lips as he dips a finger into my wetness, then pushes it inside.
"I can't wait to be inside you," he whispers, half kiss and half words. "It's gonna be so good." He adds another finger and curls both as he thrusts, and I wonder if I'll survive the real thing when his fingers feel this good.
I'm past words as I ride his hand, dropping my forehead to his and hanging on for dear life. His free hand wanders my back, grazes my ass, skims my side, all in a slow, frustrating circuit. Finally, he cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple. I roll my hips, reaching for that pinnacle, letting his breath, his touch, his kisses wash over me in a wave of sensation.
I cry out as I come, and he drinks it in with an appreciative moan of his own. I tuck my head into his shoulder, breathing hard. He runs his hands up and down my back as I calm, but as the minutes tick by, I can't ignore the hard line of his erection beneath me. I push up with my hands on his chest and smile down at him … and then I slide down to my knees.
His expression morphs from surprised to needy in an instant, and I'd love nothing more than for him to beg me to suck his cock. I'm going to do it regardless, but he's the only person I'd appreciate hearing those words from.
"I recall you mentioning wanting me on my knees, Edward. Is this what you had in mind?"
"Fuck, yes," he grunts.
I figured he'd be a harder sell, but maybe he's reached his limit. Maybe the thrill of possibly getting caught does it for him.
With a wicked smile, I glide my hands up his thighs, palming his cock on the way up to his belt buckle. I push his shirt halfway up his torso before returning to unbuckle his belt, copping a feel of every inch of his abs on the way down. Leather and metal easily give way, as does the button of his jeans. The sound of his zipper is one of the most erotic I've heard at this moment in time, and the outline of his dick beneath royal blue boxer briefs is the sexiest damn thing I've ever seen.
He lifts his hips to help me tug the jeans down enough to make room, and watches as I pull back the elastic band of his briefs and take his dick out. He's long and thick, and I bite my lip when I imagine what he'll feel like inside me. Fuck.
I look up to find Edward watching me, mouth slightly open, eyes glazed. There's a flush high on his cheeks, and his hair is more mussed than usual. He's fucking beautiful. Wrapping my hand around the base of his cock, I swipe my tongue over the tip, loving the groan that rumbles in his chest. I can taste him, bitter salt on the back of my tongue. While he watches, I lick up the line of him before taking him into my mouth and going down, down. My hair falls in a curtain over his hips.
"Bella," he gasps, one hand wrapping my hair around his fist so he can see.
His fingers pull a bit in their desperation, but I love it. I love it all: his smell, his taste, his sounds. I work him over, my hand making up for what won't fit, using all the tips and tricks in my Cosmo-contributed arsenal to drive him crazy. It's working, judging by the sounds coming out of his mouth and the way he's struggling not to just fuck my mouth. I know he's close, so I place my free hand over his hand in my hair, pushing down, giving him permission to move.
"Yeah? Oh, goddamn it, Bella… I…" His hips thrust up, almost making me choke.
He gets a handle on it, finding a rhythm that works for us. The pace quickens, I increase the suction, and finally cup his balls in my hand, giving them a gentle tug.
He taps my shoulder, but I don't move away. "I'm gonna come," he pants, and I'm amazed he can form a sentence.
I take him deeper, making eye contact. Hand tightening in my hair, he thrusts harder, and I let him this time, fighting my gag reflex. He moans my name as he comes, and the sound is enough to outweigh what seems like an excessive amount of semen. It's never easy, and it's never delicious, no matter what anyone says. I lay my head on his thigh as he comes down, mentally patting myself on the back. That was the most satisfying blow job I've ever given, not that there've been many. This time, I actually enjoyed every minute. Judging from Edward's blissed out face and heavy breathing, he did too.
"Get up here," he says when he can finally breathe again. He pulls me up next to him and plants a kiss right on my lips, no hesitation, even though I just spent the last ten minutes with his cock in my mouth. I can't lie; it's hot, how he's so uninhibited with me. The exchange becomes deeper, more intense, and he guides me down on the loveseat. Hovering on top of me, he bunches my dress up around my waist and slides a hand underneath. His fingers graze the lace of my bra, pulling the cup down. He toys with my nipple, kissing his way to my ear, where he sucks on the sensitive skin just beneath.
I'm beginning to wonder if he's changed his mind about the sex. I'm about to suggest we move to a bed, when someone tries to open the door.
"Bella, let us in, please!"
"We have to pee!"
Shit. Shitshitshit! We're trapped.
"Shit!" we both hiss, echoing my thoughts, and scramble apart. However, Rose and Alice sound completely annihilated—which might work in our favor.
Edward tucks himself back into his boxers and jeans while I try to smooth my dress and hair. I know they think I came back here to rest, so answering the door still fully dressed won't work. Quickly, I strip off my dress and take off my shoes—which seems a lot more fucking complicated than it was to put them on.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Edward half whispers, half whines, his eyes glued to my half-naked body.
I head for the closet and grab one of the complimentary robes, throwing it on. "Get in here. They can't see you, unless you want everyone to know. Once they pass out, I'll sneak you out of here."
He wavers, which makes me smile, but he ultimately chooses the closet.
All the while, Rose and Alice have been whining outside, so I put on my best sleepy face and unbolt the door.
"Took you long enough," Alice grumbles as she stumbles through the threshold.
Rose hobbles inside, trying desperately to beat Alice to the bathroom. She has longer legs, so she wins, but doesn't even bother to close the door.
"Sweet fuck, I had to piss like a fucking racehorse," Rose yells over the sound of her pee stream.
I have to laugh into my hand, knowing Edward is trapped in the closet, an unwilling witness. There's no way he can't hear; the closet is right across from the bathroom.
"Why didn't you go at the club?" I ask.
"Have you seen those lines to the women's room?" Alice responds, crossing her legs right outside the bathroom door. She looks like a little girl doing the potty dance.
"We're so done," Rose says. "I thought Emmett was gonna commit murder down there. Alice and Jasper made out and took shots all night, you've been up here, Edward disappeared, and there are idiot ass grabbers all over. So basically, Emmett spent all night fending off morons who think it's fine to ask an obviously taken woman to dance with them." By this time, she's finished and flushed, washing her hands.
Alice races in, also not shutting the door. As she does her business, she farts, long and loud. I never knew such a sound could come out of someone so small as Alice.
"You're the worst, Alice," Rose says.
Rose and I laugh aloud, being completely immature.
"I've been holding that one in forever," Alice sighs.
"We were in a loud club. It's not like anyone would hear you if you let one fly."
"You know I don't fart in front of Jasper." Alice comes out of the bathroom, tugging on her dress. "Men are happier if they think their women don't fart."
Poor Edward, hiding in that closet. He's either disgusted or having a hard time holding in his own laughter.
"Too late," Rose laughs.
"Emmett probably loves it. He's the fart king." I should know. He's only crop dusted me a million times.
Cackling, Rose nods. "What's he call them? Barking spiders?"
"And Butt Ducks."
"Creaky Boards."
"Air Tulips."
"Don't forget the O-ring Oboe."
"Wow, you're marrying a real winner," Alice teases. I give her a high-five before realizing she never washed her hands. I scurry to the restroom and lather up, wishing it was antibacterial, instead of the froufrou face bar provided by the hotel.
I come out and find Alice holding up my dress.
"In a hurry to get undressed, Bella?" She arches a brow at me, suddenly looking a lot more sober than she had minutes before.
I make a face. "It was uncomfortable." It's not, unless you count how uncomfortable it made me when I'd have rather been naked with Edward.
"You should clean up your mess, Bella," she says, pointing at me and swaying a little.
Okay, so she's still drunk. Good.
"You should close the door when you pee. And you should wash your hands," I return, grinning when she realizes I'm right.
"Oh my God." She makes another run for the bathroom.
Rose and I simply shake our heads at one another, while she stifles a yawn. "I'm out, Bella. See you girls in the morning." She disappears into the master bedroom of the two-room suite, the door clicking shut behind her.
"We should all get to bed, if we want to be up before noon," I say as Alice comes out of the bathroom, knowing hell will freeze over if those drunks are awake before one at least. They're lucky our flight isn't until tomorrow evening.
Grabbing my face wash, I start to get ready for bed while I wait for Alice to pass out. I yelp when she appears right behind me in the mirror, like some kind of drunk kewpie doll.
"Where'd you get that robe, Bella? I want one."
I panic a little, knowing where the only other robe is—in the closet, currently hiding my secret boyfriend.
I quickly finish washing my face and yank the robe off, holding it out. "Here, take this. I'm going to get in my PJs anyway." I toss it at her and make a beeline for my luggage in the other room, not even caring that I'm only in lingerie. Hopefully by the time Alice gets the robe off her head, I'll already be wearing the t-shirt I call pajamas. When I return to the sitting area, I legit have a heart attack when I see her heading for the closet.
"That's the only robe! I took it, I'm sorry. I needed something comfy, you know, because of my dress and the headache," I babble.
She scowls. "This is a two-bedroom suite. I'm calling Housekeeping. There should be at least two in there."
I do a little wince-shrug thing, trying to look innocent and apologetic. "Sorry?"
Looking at the clock, Alice sighs. "I suppose Housekeeping isn't working at three A.M."
It's Vegas. They probably are, but I'm not about to enlighten her.
"We can call tomorrow for more robes," I promise. Anything to placate her. I'm sure Edward is getting tired of hiding, and the sooner I can get this drunk mess to bed, the sooner I can spring him.
"Okay." She yawns hugely and throws the robe over her shoulders like a feather boa. "I'm gonna sleep now. Nighty night." With that, she shuffles toward the second bedroom, closing the door behind her.
I sink down on the loveseat in relief, letting out a huge breath. I can't believe that just happened, and Edward and I didn't get caught. A light tapping on the closet door reminds me to actually let him out. I hurry over and quietly open the door, covering my mouth to keep from laughing when I see him.
His hair is completely fucked up and his eyes are wide. He looks traumatized, but then he starts snickering, then chuckling, making me slap a hand over his mouth. I drag him to the bathroom and lock the door, praying my friends are passed out for good. We're pushing our luck here, but I need someone to laugh with about this whole night, and he's the perfect person. He's my perfect person.
"I'd say I'm sorry you had to hear all that, but…" I have to smother a giggle, "I'm glad I'm not the only one."
He wraps his arms around my waist and bends to muffle a laugh in my neck. "More information than I ever wanted to know," he says as he straightens, keeping his voice low. "But I've got great blackmail material."
I give him a serious look. "Edward, I'm pretty sure Emmett knows you know about his flatulence problem."
"Who do you think came up with Air Tulip?"
"Gross." I begin to remember all the times Edward joined in on the crop dusting when I was a kid, and start to reconsider his status as my perfect person. He's still my favorite person, but…
"I'm kidding, Bella," he chuckles, then says, "It was Butt Duck."
"Of course it was."
"Are we really wasting precious time talking about this?" He shakes his head. "Only us."
I grin. "Only us."
"I've gotta go. We're pushing it. Quick, kiss me." Bending down, he cups my cheek and kisses me hard.
I grip his shirt at the sides, going up on tiptoe to meet him. A simple, quick kiss goodbye turns slow and deep, his tongue in my mouth and our hands all over each other.
His touch ghosts down my back and under my t-shirt, palming my ass. He's hard against my belly, making me wish for things that are impossible for the moment. No matter how much I want him to put me on that vanity and fuck me, it would be incredibly stupid.
Stupid is sounding pretty good right about now.
We pull apart at the same time, giving each other sheepish smiles.
"See you tomorrow?" he asks quietly, almost shyly.
"Tomorrow." I give him one last hug, and he presses one last, sweet kiss to my lips.
I peek my head out of the bathroom to make sure everything's clear, then lead Edward to the door.
"See you later," he whispers, and then he's gone.
I press my back to the door, breathing a sigh of relief and longing. Nothing on earth could wipe the spacey grin off my face.
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Thanks for reading! See you Wednesday.