A/N This drabble earns this story its "M" rating. If you are under 18 years of age, please flounce now. I'll still be here in a few years' time, I promise.
After wine and chocolate with Alice, my dreams are vivid. I'm naked and laid out on a black leather chaise, my arms over my head, hands gripping the armrest. I am inside my body and standing across the room, watching. Above me are green eyes, narrowed and piercing. Above me hovers long lines of man – coppery hair, broad shoulders, muscled back retreating into peaks and dimpled valleys. I feel his fingers on, over, inside. I see my back arch, his mouth descending onto my breast. Sucking. Licking. Biting. I feel him, hot and hard, pulsing. I watch him move, in and out, push and pull.
I wake, gasping and wet, aching.
After a long shower, I stumble into the kitchen. Alice hands me coffee and two Tylenol. I smile my thanks.
"Bella, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should go back and talk to Edward," Alice says. "I have a feeling there's more to this story."
"And if you're right?" I bark. "At best, he thinks I'm crazy, all hot vixen one minute, then cold bitch the next. Even if there was something there, I've beaten it to death."
"But Bella," Alice starts.
"No buts. It's over, Ali."
I open Baby. No apple. No rotating disk. Just a question mark on a blue background.
Fuck.