~ 12 ~
James was the elephant in the car Monday morning, and I was surprised when Dad brought the subject out in the open.
"James has pretty good taste in cars, too." He must've felt safer chatting this way since there was no way he'd take his eyes off the road.
Ah, here we go. "Too?"
Dad rapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, trying to play it cool, but the blush had already crept up his cheeks. "You know, girls . . . you."
"So the guy buys one little car from you, and now you're his biggest fan?" This was amusing.
Dad's profile crinkled in confusion. "I don't understand you, Bella. I thought you wanted me to like James."
I sighed. I did. Then I didn't. "He's fine."
"Fine? What happened to love?"
No. If this weekend had accomplished nothing else, it had at least solidified that fact in my mind. I guess I shouldn't blame James for being confused after the bone-crushing kiss, but I was pretty sure he got my message when he tried to unbutton my shirt later that night. I batted his hand away and he called me a little cock tease and growled about being summoned to the rubber capital and not even getting to use one himself.
"Nah, Dad. Sorry. He's not the one."
Dad settled into his seat and blew out one of his I'll-never-understand-my-daughter sighs. He seemed too baffled to attempt any other conversation, but Rose made up for it the second I walked into her office.
"How was your weekend with Richie Rich?"
I rolled my eyes, and we had a little giggle together.
"On the upside," she said, "you've really managed to piss off Edward. I don't think I've ever seen him quite this agitated."
Rosalie's genuine concern for her employee was written all over her face, and I felt like a real shit—again. "I'm sorry."
"Are you?" She stared me down with those big blue eyes Emmett probably loved to get lost in, but to me, they were nothing more than lie detectors giving me a failing grade.
"I don't know. No, probably not." I was pleased but I was also miserable. Having him mad at me wasn't exactly my goal. I just wanted a sign that he gave a damn.
"You're going to have to work this out with him. I'm actually afraid he's a little unsafe right now."
"Okay, Rose. I'll try to get him to talk to me this morning."
Easier said than done. At morning break, he disappeared. No coffee truck, no smoking wall, and no bathroom—I had one of the guys check for me. I pouted and vowed to keep better track of him at lunchtime.
I shoved my lunch bag inside my purse and kept my eyes on the time clock. At twelve noon exactly, Edward grabbed his card and punched out. I followed him through the door, keeping a safe distance, which wasn't difficult considering how quickly he was walking. He crossed the entire lot, then unlocked a pickup truck in the employee lot and hunkered down inside the cabin.
I knew he was going to be grouchier than a half-starved lion, but I had no choice. I snuck up on the passenger side and knocked on the window. He startled, his eyes popping wide open, then instantly narrowing with anger. "What the hell do you want?" he growled.
You.
"Can we talk?"
"No! Go away."
I opened the door, stunning him into momentary silence. "That's trespassing!"
I rolled my eyes and tossed my purse inside, then followed with the rest of me. "Do you have any idea how difficult you are?"
"Me? Ever taken a look in a damn mirror, Dr. Princess and Mrs. Tease?"
"Stop calling me princess!" I grabbed my purse onto my lap and started digging inside for my smokes. My hands were shaking as I tapped one out into my palm.
"What the hell do you think you're doing now? You can't light up in here!"
"Why not? I don't see a 'no smoking' sign."
Edward grabbed his head in both hands. "Oh my god, you're actually making me lose my mind."
I had my lighter poised in my hand, but I couldn't do it. I wasn't about to disrespect his rules for his own truck. I dropped everything into my handbag, threw it down by the floorboards, and sighed a loud, exasperated sigh. "What. Is. Your. Damage, Cullen?"
He stopped his head-holding long enough to look over at me. He seemed to be weighing his options, and once he decided, his face screwed up into a mean scowl. "I'm not interested in you. You can fake-smoke and parade your stupid boyfriends under my nose and tease me with your big tits and your tight little ass, but you're a Daddy's girl through and through, and I don't want you. I will never want you."
His words churned into a toxic brew. "I'm not a Daddy's girl!"
Shifting toward me in his seat, he challenged, "Oh yeah? Prove it." His eyes raked down my body, and I could feel his need. I knew he was lying when he said he didn't want me.
"How?" A thrill shook me. I would've done anything he'd asked right then.
"Give me your panties."
I gasped, sending a fresh rush of embarrassing fluids into those panties he wanted so badly. His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Get out of my truck, Princess."
"No!"
His eyebrows popped up, and his hand shot out. "Should I count to three?"
God, he could be a bastard when he wanted, but there was never a choice. He watched with greedy eyes while I lifted my rump off the seat and slipped my hands under the hem of my skirt, and his frown twisted into a cruel smile as I complied with his terms. Our eyes were locked as my thumbs hooked the corners of my bikinis and slid them down my thighs. That place between my legs was warm and sticky and wet, and I felt like pure sin.
I dropped my eyes to his lap and had myself a good, long look. Just beneath his beige belt was a thick mound that had to be his erection. I knew it! He wasn't made of stone after all—well, part of him might be hard as granite right now—but he was at least a human being with feelings and needs.
My bottom dropped back onto the seat as the panties glided over my knees. You're a slut, Bella. You're sitting in a boy's truck without underpants and thinking about his penis. This boy is turning you inside-out and upside-down and you're letting him!
Instead of stopping, like a semi-sane human being, I stepped out of those panties one foot at a time and threw them at his face. "Happy now?"
He caught them against his nose and mouth with one hand and made a big show of taking a deep sniff. "Oh, hell yes."
"You're such a pervert."
He smiled. "I'm not the one going back to work without my underwear."
I shouldn't have said it. "At least I'm not walking around with a big, hard . . ." And there it was, the good girl who couldn't even form the word.
"Say it, Swan. Can you even say it?"
God, he was so exasperating! I screwed up all my courage, took a deep breath, and yelled, "Boner!"
His jaw dropped open, and I could swear I saw respect in his eyes. Once that word popped out, it's like everything behind it—all the words I'd bottled up inside me all summer—came spilling out like uncorked champagne.
"Oh, poor Edward. What's the matter? Upset you can't hide behind all your cruel smirks and nasty accusations? You think I'm the tease? How about the way you strut around the garage with your . . . tools and your . . . muscles and your pouty face, huh? You don't think that's teasing?"
I was in full-blown tirade mode, and there was no stopping me now. "How about your almost-kisses and your hot breath blowing on my neck? Are you going to sit there and tell me you felt nothing when you were feeling up my . . ." Don't say breast, don't say breast ". . . my tit?"
My hands were shaking and I could hear the tremor in my voice. It didn't help that he sat there all smug and had the nerve to ask, "Finished?"
"Finished? I don't think so. We haven't even gotten to the part where you ripped off my panties—"
"You took them off yourself!" he interjected, only making everything a thousand times worse.
"Oh, and was I the one to shove them up your nose as well?" I was starting to hyperventilate.
"Holy shit, Bella. Take it easy."
Take it easy? Frustrated tears pricked at my eyes, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I gathered my purse from the floor and plucked open the door handle. I gave him one last steady glare.
"Screw you, Cullen."
My feet hit the ground and I went running.
A/N: I didn't think anybody wanted to see more of her alone time with James (blech) so I've glossed over it with my magic author paintbrush. As for the passion she's aroused in poor Edward, that poor boy is a mess. God, I love him.
XXX ~BOH
