Chapter 25, in which Edward takes Bella on a date and they have an unfortunate encounter
Sunday night upon arriving home from Whistler I had a telltale tickle in my throat, and by morning I had a full-blown miserable head cold that kept me out of school for that Monday and Tuesday. Lying around the house all day gave me some time to think about things with Bella, and what I thought was things were kind of moving along fast, barreling headlong really. Namely the fact that I had rounded third base without having actually tagged second. I kept thinking back to Jasper's advice, and I figured I was capable of reining things in. I didn't want Bella to end up feeling like I was pushing her. Although I didn't think I had really been pushing her. Had I been pushing her? She had been pushing me…and here I would start replaying the scene of Saturday night in my head.
Anyway, it seemed like the thing to do, so I called her up and told her I was taking her out Friday on a proper date. Like, dinner and a movie. In Port Angeles. I didn't want her to get the idea that our relationship was overly based on heavy petting. Also, I felt a little gypped that I hadn't tagged second, so I really wanted to rectify that omission.
Bella came down with the same cold on Wednesday and also missed two days of school, then had to do a make-up test on Friday at lunch, so by Friday night I had barely seen her all week except in class that day. We agreed I would pick her up on the early side, not only because Port Angeles was a bit of a drive and we were going to an early showing and grabbing dinner afterwards, but also I think because she wanted me to fetch her before her dad came home from work. I wondered what exactly she was telling him about her plans this evening.
The theater in Port Angeles was one of those big old-fashioned movie houses with one screen. They were showing a Nicolas Cage drama this week; we had not much choice in the matter, but this one was supposed to be halfway decent. We parked between the theater and the restaurant where I had made a reservation—La Bella Italia. We didn't have far to walk, but we barely made it to the movie on time because of all the kissing. First she gave me a peck on the cheek in the car that turned into some still-relatively-chaste kissing on the mouth and general nuzzling, and then as we walked down the street I gave into an urge to pull her into a darkened doorway and that turned into some French kissing, and then when we got to the theater it was like we had some sort of reaction to being together in a darkened room and we started kissing again with me leaning my back against the wall at the back of the theater before we had even found seats.
When the movie actually started, I figured we had better sit down. I started to lead her down the aisle to the middle, but she tugged on my hand and pointed to a stairway, cordoned off with a velvet rope and a small sign hanging from it that read, "balcony closed."
"How 'bout up there?" she asked. I craned my neck to get a look at the balcony.
"OK. Why not," I replied, and we climbed over the rope and went upstairs to the empty balcony and sat close to the front. The theater had been refurbished sometime recently so it had big comfy seats with arm rests that moved up and down, so we pushed up the arm rest and snuggled together, my arm around her shoulders and her head leaning against me. We watched the movie quietly for a few minutes, then I felt her fingertips slipping under the edge of my sweater and lightly caressing my waist. I glanced down at her, but she was still looking straight ahead. After a few more minutes her hand grew bolder, sliding up over my belly and up to my chest, her fingertips moving in gentle circles and touching the hair there, the planes of my chest, and finally one of my nipples. I was like a live wire around her, every sensation amplified. I whispered,
"I missed you this week. Did you miss me?"
She looked up at me with an innocent expression and asked, coyly, "Did you…think about me?"
My cock twitched. I buried my nose in her hair and inhaled deeply.
"You smell good," I told her, wrapping my other arm around her and pulling her closer to me. Imitating her movements, I found the bottom edge of her sweater and slid my fingers under it, touching the smooth skin of her waist. I moved my hand slowly up her side until I reached the fabric of her bra. It was silken, not cotton as I had been expecting. I drew my fingertips along the underside of her breast over smooth silk.
She sighed, shakily. "You're not going to answer my question, are you."
"Mm. I don't think you answered mine," I replied. I moved my hand to cup her breast, feeling its heavy weight in my palm. Bella had pretty little girlish tits that I found super appealing. Everything about her breast felt soft and silken except the nipple, which was hard. Mm. I brushed my thumb over it. It was jutting out against the silk, and what was that roughness at the top of her bra? Lace.
"I'll just have to ask you a different way, then," she told me.
I was so busy tracing my fingers along the lace at the top of her bra that I didn't notice her moving her hand down until it was resting at the top of my thigh closest to her.
"Do you think about this?" she asked, moving her hand to press with her palm against my cock. Pleasure. I smiled, leaning back against my chair back and looking straight ahead at the screen.
Her fingers stroked up my length, then squeezed gently. I couldn't help giving a little push with my hips. I glanced at her. She was looking at me intently.
Her fingers started fumbling with the top button of my jeans. I placed my hand over hers. "Bella."
She cast a glance around the darkened balcony. "There's no one here," she shrugged.
I looked around and saw she was right. I moved my hand away, and she continued unbuttoning, looking at me. When she had them all undone I stood at attention, as much as my boxer briefs would let me. She stroked me again, through my underwear, then slipped her hand inside. I sighed as she wrapped her fingers around me, squeezing tighter this time. Then she loosened her fingers and feathered them all the way up to the tip. She discovered the bead of wetness forming there, touching it with just one finger, then tracing circles over the tip of my cock. My leg started shaking slightly. When she squeezed me again and started moving her hand up and down, I stopped her.
"We don't want to make a mess."
"Hmmm."
She suddenly slipped down onto the floor, kneeling between my knees.
"What are you doing?"
"I thought we didn't want to make a mess."
I stared at her, and realized that not only was she talking about putting her mouth on my dick, she was also implying I should come in her mouth. That this girl was constantly surprising me was the understatement of a lifetime.
She began kissing me down there, starting halfway down and them moving up until she reached the head and planted a kiss there. Then she opened her lips and licked the tip. By now I was sitting bolt upright, one hand grasping the armrest and the other splayed on the empty seat next to me. I felt extremely vulnerable in this position, especially in a public place—somewhat secluded though it was—but perhaps more highly excited than I had ever been. She took me in her mouth, sucking lightly on the tip of my cock.
"Fuck, Bella…" I growled.
She smiled up at this, her lips wrapped around me, and then she swirled her tongue around me. I covered my face with my hands, then peeked out again so I could watch her. She started sucking again, then wrapped one hand around me and squeezed. My orgasm was sudden and hard, taking me so much by surprise that I accidentally pulled my hips back, pulling my cock out of her mouth, and shot my load in her hair.
"So good," I burst out, then stared at her in horror when I realized what had happened. She stared back at me, wide-eyed, before bursting out laughing. I pulled her up next to me and hugged her, grateful that she was not annoyed or grossed out. Not only did my girlfriend swallow, theoretically, but she had a sense of humor about my coming in her hair. For some girls, that might be a dealbreaker, I imagined.
"OK, now I'm the one who just has to go wash up," she whispered.
"I'm sorry. Hurry back," I said, buttoning up.
"There better not be anyone in the bathroom."
She started to get up, but suddenly slunk all the way down in her seat as if she was hiding. "Oh, shit," she said.
"What?"
"There are people up here," she hissed.
I looked behind us and noticed some guys sitting way in the back of the balcony.
"They weren't there before," I whispered. They must have come up here when we were a little…preoccupied.
"Shit," she said again.
"Look, do you want to just go?" I asked her. It wasn't like either of us had been paying one whit of attention to the movie.
"OK." We got up and walked quickly down the row of seats and down the stairs. I waited in the lobby near the doors while she popped into the bathroom to clean herself up. Just as she was coming out of the bathroom, another figure bounded down the stairs into the empty lobby. Fuckety shit crap. It was Jacob Black.
His eyes met mine, with a flicker of recognition, and then he scanned the lobby. When his eyes landed on Bella coming out of the bathroom, his face fell. "Bella," he said, accusingly.
She looked up and blanched.
He came towards her and grabbed her arm, roughly. "I came down here just to make sure that that wasn't really you. What the fuck, Bella?"
"Jacob…"
I jumped in. "Get your hand off her," I instructed him.
"Fuck you," he responded. She twisted her arm out of his grasp. "What the fuck, Bella, you were sucking his dick. In a movie theater. Who the fuck is this guy?" He was crowding her. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he swung his arm up to knock it off. I took a step towards him, lining my shoulder up with his, and he took a step back.
"Jacob, it really is none of your business." Bella sounded preternaturally calm.
"The fuck it isn't."
"This is Edward. You've met him before," she said patiently, as if talking to a child. I smiled. "It's OK," she assured him.
Jacob glared at me. "You fucking asshole," he fumed.
Bella broke in. "Jacob, calm down. It's OK. We're leaving now." She turned on her heel and walked out of the theater. I glanced back at Jacob, who still looked furious, and walked out after her. We walked down the street a little ways, and she let out her breath in a whoosh. She looked back.
"Thank goodness he's not following," she said.
I put my arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry that happened," I told her.
"It's OK. He'll calm down."
"Do you think he's going to rat you out?"
She answered quickly, as if she had already considered that. "No. He'll calm down. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me," she said, sounding slightly unconvinced of that herself.
Then she added, "I think he'll be more angry at you."