25.
Knocking at the door to Alice's house, I still wonder if I'm dreaming.
Bella opens the door wearing a tight tank top and some yoga pants, and her hair is tied up in one of those messy buns. And it's wet.
She's definitely testing my resolve, but I won't waver. I know what she's doing. I need to show her that I wasn't in it for sex, it was her.
I take a deep breath to calm my twitching cock, and smile. "Hi."
She smiles back and moves over to let me come inside. As I walk in, I'm immediately assaulted by the smell of fresh baked apple pie.
"Is that apple pie?" I set my backpack on the ground next to my shoes and look around, desperate for something to distract myself from staring at her.
"Yeah, actually. Ehmm, I can't cook to save my life, but I can bake pie like no body's business." She walks in front of me and motions for me to follow her.
I pick up my backpack and fling it over my shoulder, and proceed to follow her.
It's a torturous walk. Not only are her yoga pants clinging to her ass, but there are no panty lines.
And she's not wearing a bra under that clingy tank top. I'd know, I've seen it before.
I think she's punishing me. Or torturing me.
I will die a painful death at this rate.
She turns around, her eyes meeting mine. "Are you okay, Edward?"
I know my cheeks are red. Flaming, actually. The heat spreading from my toes all the way to my ears makes me speechless. I nod dumbly and avert my eyes from her chest where it seems like her nipples are begging for me to look at them.
My breathing is labored and I tell her I need to go to the bathroom. I need a few minutes to myself. She's doing this on purpose, I'm sure of it.
She has to be. This is definitely a test.
She's definitely checking if I was using her for sex. Definitely.
After five minutes of hiding in the bathroom, I've calmed down enough to be in the same room as her, no matter her state of undress.
We sit at her kitchen table and study while I avoid looking anywhere but her face. We're able to joke around and the tension around us is thick but comfortable.
When we're done our homework, she offers me a piece of pie, which I accept greedily.
I'm hooked on the first bite, and moan when the flaky crust hits my tongue.
"This is good, Bella," I compliment between bites. I make sure to chew slowly, letting the flavors meld into my mouth.
"Thanks," she says shyly, taking a bite of her own piece.
Tension leaves my body as I'm able to relax a little, but before long, it's time for me to go home and I don't want to.
Not one bit.
…
I had to use every ounce of self restraint not to mount his face every time he moaned over a piece of pie. At least I now know he was telling the truth. He's really in it for me.
Wednesday?
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xox
Missy