Okay, so disclaimer: i don't own twilight n shit.
Um, if any of my readers are into kinky, sadistic, and I mean like, fucked up shit, go read 'Buried in the Bergonias' by DurtyNelly. Fucking fantastic, even if it is a little raunchy. well not a litttle, more like really! Anywho, thanks for reviewing, i'm updating this story more than demon city which started before this one. Haha, and now this one has had more reviews which is ironic, coz this started off as a play around, just to fill time.
Anyways, tell me what you think!
My mind was left reeling from what had just happened.
Half of me was shocked, surprised, elated—the other was seriously concerned. I was worried about a lot of things, a wide range that would most likely keep me up late tonight, staring at that god damned ceiling. Yet, as I considered this, I realised that it would not have the same feeling.
I would not be feeling emptiness, I would no longer be a shell of who I once was—glaring at the peeling paint like it was my worst enemy, because Edward Cullen didn't feel the same way. Now, I wouldn't be glaring, I would be puzzling—but not over the person I once did.
Of course, he was puzzling, but the situation had altered so completely that I no longer had any reason to feel miserable about him. I was puzzling over the once negligible information that had zoomed straight past my head.
Jacob Black and Mike Newton.
Jacob, my once best friend and now (not that he knew it), my ex-boyfriend had almost brutally attacked me whilst under the influence of alcohol and possibly drugs. I had seen Jacob drunk before, but never did he act violent—never.
And what was most upsetting, was that he would hurt me—of all people, no matter how mad I made him.
I was pissed—definitely. He was a pretty shitty boyfriend, one that was aggressive and petty.
One that could be a drug abuser. I sighed as I stared out the windshield onto the dimly lit road ahead. The moon leached the colour out of the trees and shrubs surrounding the highway—transforming it into an eerie environment, one suitable for a horror movie. I shuddered, making sure my window was rolled all the way up.
I scoffed at myself then.
Who was going to attack a moving truck? And a tank like this? I was getting paranoid. But I guess being paranoid was better than being dead, right?
I must be a little jumpy after what had happened tonight with Jake. Never had someone tried to force me into inappropriate activities.
That made it sound so clinical. But I couldn't call it sexual harassment—that just made me want to be sick. It was giving it a label. And I'm mostly sure that it would feel different to everyone. I shuddered, thinking about it. Then there was the Mike thing. What a douche. I was so grateful for Edward being there tonight.
I would have more than likely ended up in the ER that night—or if Mike was the asshole I assumed him to be—I would have stayed passed out on the bleachers that night.
Nice.
What a thing to explain to Charlie in the morning after not coming home.
Even after then, I guess I would have ended up in the ER, had the janitor or maintenance people found me the next morning or could have completely cracked my skull open and died in a mess of blood over the school football field.
I shuddered.
Without even thinking about it, I ended up outside my house, staring at the tree out front—lost in thought. I had driven from here to school and back so many times over the last three to four months that it was a natural process—one that required no thinking.
My mind was going off on random tangents, pondering all of what had gone down prior to now. I couldn't shed any light on the Quileute situation—I wasn't really one for insightful thinking. I didn't have that much insider information—and what I did have, I couldn't really construe either way, it sounded useless to my ears.
So, there was nothing I could piece together. There was nothing else to think about now...other than... I bit my lip, blushing to myself. I giggled quietly and bashfully—although no-one was there—and stepped carefully out of my truck and onto the driveway.
I crept up the porch steps—not wanting to wake Charlie if he had gone to bed already.
He hadn't. He had been waiting for me. It was passed eleven right now.
He hadn't been waiting that long, though. He only would have gotten home at nine.
But he was dozing off on the sofa—a game on the T.V. I shook my head at him, placing my keys on the hook and my jacket on the coat rack by the door. I chewed my lip then winced at the tenderness. I snuck upstairs, Dad stirred on the couch but quickly went back to snoring.
I breathed out a sigh of relief then went to study my profile in the bathroom mirror. I groaned silently. My lip was red and slightly swollen. How had Edward managed to ignore this while he was kissing me? It wasn't too bad though. Which was good, I didn't want to have to cover up a black eye or broken nose.
That might be difficult—considering I didn't own make up. My face was a little flushed and my hair had grass in it.
I turned my boy slightly to pick up a wash cloth for my face when I noticed the slight tear in my shirt.
I gasped—so I hadn't been imagining that noise. Staring at it only made me blush more.
He was so lost in the moment that he ripped my shirt—almost all the way up the side. I giggled to myself and threw the wash cloth down—deciding it was better to have a shower. It probably would have been normal for me to hole up in my room and cry about tonight—about the attack.
But Edward confessing his lust, desire, his love—it was like an antidote to the depression.
I stewed—happily, for once—while I worked. Washing my hair and brushing my teeth before scampering to my bedroom and getting changed into my pyjamas. My hyper activeness was wearing down—leaving room for drowsiness. I rubbed my eyes tiredly as I plopped down onto the bed, flipping the light off as I went.
I collapsed onto my pillow, breathing in the homey smell and indulging in my once forbidden fantasies about Edward Cullen—brilliant, godly, beautiful, my teacher.
~~~___~~~
My alarm didn't wake me up Monday morning.
Instead, I woke up by myself—in large part due to the nightmare I had.
And yes, it involved Jacob, and bleachers, and Mike. The worst part? Edward never came.
That's what had me biting my pillow to keep from screaming. I shuddered as I sat at the dining table, shaking my head to clear it of those thoughts. I noticed that Charlie wasn't asleep on the sofa—he had retreated during some time in the night to go back to bed. He was still asleep now, as I ate.
He had a later shift today, also. I felt guilty almost—for leaving Charlie in the dark about most of what goes on in my life. I mean, I hardly see him around the house.
I planned then to make a better effort. It was strange—the high that Edward put me on through those kisses—it made me want to be a better person, a better daughter.
Maybe it was a subconscious motivation.
By performing altruistic—well, mostly—deeds in hopes of being rewarded with more kisses.
Possibly, but then again, I wasn't a psychologist.
This was just contemplation over my crazy mind in particular. I drove to school, leaving far earlier than usual, getting a better park because of it. I smiled triumphantly, shifting it into park before pulling the key out methodically. I sat in the car for a bit, tying my hair up in a messy ponytail—wondering what I should do next.
Should I go in and see if he's here yet? I peered out my window, searching for his car.
Bingo! In the far corner, closest to the entrance was that wonderful, silvery Volvo—brought to Earth by the gods.
I smiled happily, stepping out of the warm truck cab and starting towards the school. There was no-one else here—I was really early. It was deserted, like a creepy old house that no-one went near. I wrapped my arms around myself, the morning air was nippy, whipping my hair around my face and pinching my cheeks into a pink shade. I strolled casually—nonchalantly—over to the staff room which could be entered from the outside or from the corridor inside the school. I went for the outside entrance, seeing as the doors were still locked the other way. I knocked on the generically green painted wooden door.
I heard shuffling, footfalls and paper rustling.
The door opened outward, I quickly jumped back, my face lighting up in reaction to seeing those eyes.
"Hey," I said lamely. He grinned. "Hello, Bella." I gawked at him. He dressed so casually...but my god!
Today, the torture included dark bootleg jeans and a tight navy blue sweater—tight enough to emphasise his muscular chest and arms.
I could have drooled and not noticed. He took a measured step forward, his finger moving under my chin and bringing my face up. He glanced around, his hand moving slowly around my waist. I bit my lip, smiling conspiratorially. He grinned crookedly, pulling me to him. Our bodies were touching, I could feel his warmth and it was...fantastic.
Without thinking, my body pressed even harder to him. He smiled down at me, his fingers brushing my hair back from my wind-whipped face, they grazed down from my temple to my chin. They gently caressed my bottom lip—which was now quivering with anticipation. "Don't tease me," I whispered, he chuckled, leaning down.
Oh thank god! I exulted. But he wasn't done teasing—ugh. His lips ghosted over mine, leaving a tingling sensation in it's wake.
They then moved slowly above my lips, to the tip of my nose, to my forehead, down my cheek, my jaw line, to my throat and down my neck.
I was breathing heavily as he kept repeating this, his lips placing a tender peck at my collar bone and the hollow at the base of my throat.
I couldn't take any more games. My hand reached for his neck, pulling his face to mine whether he was ready or not. My forwardness caught him by surprise—sucker. I smiled against his lips, revelling in the small win I had achieved before his lips parted with a slight sigh that assaulted my fucking brain—leaving me an incoherent fool. I succumbed to him, letting him lead me.
His right hand cupped my face—grasping my hair tightly. My hands grasped his sweater, my hands balling into fists against his chest, trying in vain to pull him tighter against me.
It was in vain, because he was already as close as he could go. He stepped backwards, pulling me along with him. He turned us around, and while my eyes stayed closed, I heard the door close. His hand came back around my waist, turning us around once more. He slowly stepped us further backwards until I could feel the cold hard wall against my back.
His hand moved from my waist, smoothing up my body to my arms, unclasping them from his shirt and moving them behind his neck.
I did as silently ordered and locked my arms around his neck. My arms were an obstruction between us, now, without them there, our bodies pressed closer, impossibly closer.
I liked it, even if it did make breathing harder than it already was when he kissed me.
He pulled back, his fingers moving behind my head and gently tugging the hair tie out.
He gently tucked it into my jacket pocket, letting my hair fall to my shoulders in thick wavy curtains of brown.
He smiled, leaning down, inhaling the scent of my hair, his nose grazing up my neck to my ear lobe.
I shuddered, he brought his lips back to mine, my tongue moved, invading his mouth hungrily. He copied, mingling with my tongue in the process. I moaned and whimpered softly into his mouth, he groaned and growled—god, it made me crazy.
I caught his lip between my teeth, arching my back off the wall, my hips moving into his. His body shifted slightly back, moving away from me, yet he still kept his mouth on mine. I frowned, gently pulling back to stare at him. "What's wrong?" I asked, placing both hands on his face. He shook his head, biting his lip, his eyes hooded.
I pulled him back, letting it go, my hands moved to his waist, wanting him pressed against me again. He hesitated and I frowned again.
He sighed, pressing his face into the crook of my neck. "You're driving me crazy," he muttered. I scoffed. "You can talk." I murmured, frowning more.
He kissed me again, more hesitant than before and it was getting on my nerves. He was gentle but not as into it as before.
When he let my face go so we were no longer touching he had a pained look on his face. I raised an eyebrow, smirking than shaking my head.
"You should go now, there'll be people here soon." He said softly, although his voice was slightly husky. I nodded, smiling and biting my lip.
He took a step back, sitting on the corner of his desk. I swept my hair behind my back, taking a slow, hesitant step forward toward him. His face looked worried, his eyes looked like they were saying 'have mercy!' I shrugged it off, a good bye peck wouldn't be too much to ask, would it? I leaned closer, gently kissing him once on the lips, savouring the taste.
I sighed happily, letting my breath brush against his face. He breathed it in and hummed. I pulled my face away, he looked even more pained than before.
I was about to ask if I had accidentally kneed him in the groin when I heard a car pull up outside. I bit my lip and sighed. It was time to leave, time to go back to pretending there was nothing going on. Go back to acting like student and teacher—respectively. He smiled tentatively from where he sat, his hands clasped in front of him on his lap.
I smiled back, perking an eyebrow before shaking my head. "I'll see you later," I whispered. He nodded. "I..." he sighed. "I love you." He murmured. I couldn't help my grin.
"Love you, too..." I paused then grinned. "Mr. Cullen." His face fell and I laughed. I waved behind me, opening the door and closing it behind me—the icy air was horribly brutal against my skin. I shivered and walked back to my truck for my things. School tended to go on like that for the rest of the week.
Mike had come back to school—much to my disappointment and Edward's blatant fury. Yes, he had supposedly harassed me in the hallway which he then claimed was a misunderstanding, and the night of the game was just an accident—I was accident prone, after all.
Edward had gone into a heated rage over that, but of course, couldn't show his real emotions to the school board. So he was allowed back at school, under the watchful eye of Mr Edward Cullen, English Dept. I laughed when he announced his title like that.
Jacob, on the other hand, hadn't needed to be expelled or suspended, seeing as how he didn't show up at school at all that week.
Edward and I both expected a shit fight over what had happened. We hadn't reported it straight away that night, we had previous...ahem, engagements.
So, the story was rocky on our behalf, then we would have had to explain what we did for the rest of the game...other than dab some disinfectant on my lip.
That was strictly between Edward and me, so therefore couldn't be divulged to the authorities, or his boss, or we would be stuck in another shit fight—just between the two of us. Which would be numerous shades of tragedy. On one hand, it was hard sneaking around, but on the other, it was the deviousness that gave us that element of excitement.
It was exhilarating and also tiresome at times.
It became especially fearful one day—the day Alice Cullen walked in.
It was a Tuesday, at lunch, I was helping the teacher carry text books from the library back to his office, apparently.
I had been the only volunteer, so therefore I was reaping the benefits. I was sitting on his desk again, a comfortable and routine action.
His button down shirt was open—we knew we were pushing it but couldn't find it in us to care right at that moment. I certainly didn't care at all once I laid my eyes on that body. I almost convulsed.
He was standing up, leaning over me, his hands were moving down my back, over the top of my clothes. He tested the waters, lifting my shirt slightly. When I pressed closer, he knew it as a sign of affirmation, meaning 'go the fuck ahead, I don't mind'.
His fingers tickled the skin of my back, over my hips and up my waist, stopping at my bra. My breathing hitched and came out in desperate pants.
His eyes were closed but even without seeing them open, I could tell the restraint he was putting into this. That made me smile.
So, instead of waiting for him to do it, I pushed his hands over my breasts and moaned softly when he did. His mouth came down on mine again—hard, eager and dangerous.
He was panting a soft melody into my mouth, our tongues plunging into each other. I moved my hands to his waist, down to his hips and into the loops of his jeans, tugging his hips closer, he hissed slightly when we came into contact. Again, he frustratingly held back.
I was getting sick of this and was planning on protesting when we heard footsteps approaching, briskly.
They were light but still recognisable. We stiffened. "Oh, fuck." I whispered out of habit. We had a good run. My mind sighed unhappily.
:O What will happen? will they be busted? stay tuned! i love cliff hangers!
Reviews are better than Edward's open button down ;)