Hi all!
I had multiple people reach out to me saying they couldn't find Chapter 15. Chapter 13 is the old Chapter 15, guys. It's the same content. Some things were just moved around. Sorry about that.
Julie (a guest reviewer) asked that I clean up this story and requested that I delete repeated chapters as well as author's notes to make the reading experience more fluid, so I went ahead and deleted the previous chapter amongst other things, which unfortunately messed up the metrics for the story, i.e. the number of views, the chapter count, the traffic graph, the review count, and some people's ability to review some chapters in the future.
I was not aware however that I uploaded the same chapters multiple times... Which chapters are you referring to, Julie? Maybe there's a way for me to fix that by just breaking down the story differently. Like I said, deleting posted chapters messes things up, so I will not be doing that again.
Without further ado,
Rosalie was in much better spirits when she joined Alice and me the next morning. She looked suspiciously happy as she sat down at the same table we did every weekday for lunch.
"Rose, what have you done?" I accused before she even settled into her chair and greeted us.
"Me? Nothing..." she responded before grabbing my drink and taking a sip through the straw.
"Rose, I can read you like a book. So cut the pretenses and spill!"
She sighed.
"Let's say I had a plumbing issue this morning..."
At our skeptical expressions, she rephrased.
"The shower hose accidentally burst while I was showering."
A final frown pushed her to confess.
"OK, fine. I purposely burst the shower hose when Emmett was making his round on my floor. There! Are you happy?" She spat, settling back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.
She was unbelievable.
"Rosalie Hale, have you no shame?" I asked.
"Well, I had to do something! I burst the hose when I heard him walking past my door. I shouted a few seconds, and alerted by the noise, he came to see what was happening."
"And how did he react?" Alice inquired. Unlike me, she seemed to think it was a genius idea.
"He was surprised initially…" she paused. "But then, he quickly took control of the situation, and let's just say that in spite of appearances, he is not entirely insensitive to my charms." She finished with a sly grin.
It suddenly dawned on me. Rosalie had burst the pipe WHILE SHE HAD BEEN SHOWERING. That meant Emmett had seen her...
Lord Jesus, Rosalie was nothing but bold!
"Are you saying that your brilliant idea was to get naked in front of Emmett?"
"Oh, don't even go there, Bell's! Let's not forget that you stripped down in front of Edward."
"I was drunk, Rosalie. You were completely sober." I rightfully pointed out.
"And when you wrote your erotic short story, were you drunk as well?"
Point taken. Bella – 1. Rosalie – 1.
"So what did he say?" Alice inquired.
"With his mouth? Nothing. The bulge in his pants, however, spoke volumes."
"ROSE!" Alice and I chided at once, appalled by her smug smile and her suggestive wink.
"Don't worry. I did not throw myself at him! I acted all shy and embarrassed."
"You mean all 'Oh my gosh, Emmett, I'm so sorry to bother you. I don't know what happened.'?" Alice playfully imitated.
"Exactly! I didn't want to throw myself at him. Well, I wanted to, but I think subtlety is the way to go here. Emmett simply wrapped me up in a towel and rubbed my arms to warm me up. He then promised to return tonight with a new shower hose, which he will install, and left. That means I get to see him again tonight. Isn't that great?!"
At my skeptical expression, she continued.
"Listen, Bella… I have no intention of allowing a man to undo me. I want Emmett, and I will have him whatever it takes. It's unfortunate if some of my methods shock you."
Maybe she was right. To each their own.
"Wow. You are two depraved lunatics!" Alice commented, shaking her head, a smile on her face.
We all erupted in a fit of laughter. Rose was certifiably insane, but I adored her beyond words, and I had to admit her methods were hilarious.
"Hey ladies!" Jasper cheerfully greeted us.
He pressed a kiss to Rose's cheek and mine and pulled Alice into a passionate kiss. from which she parted with a blissful expression.
"What are you laughing about?"
"Top secret." Rosalie answered.
I blushed profusely. Jasper knew nothing about what was happening between Edward and me, and I counted on Alice to keep him in the dark.
Survival instinct...
"OK. Well, since I won't get anything out of you, I'm going to get myself a hot dog." my brother announced, disheartened.
"Excellent idea!"
"Do you all want anything?" He asked, standing up.
"Nope." We all responded at once.
As she watched him walk away, Alice let out a dreamy sigh.
"Bella, I think I'm in love with your brother."
I smiled tenderly at her, glad that at least one of us was involved in a normal, happy, and healthy relationship. Judging by the loving glances Jasper was throwing her from the counter, I was quite sure he returned her feelings. I was happy for them.
The rest of the week unfolded similarly. Rosalie came up with outrageous plan upon outrageous plan to ensnare Emmett in her net. Alice and Jasper grew closer and closer. As for me, I was impatient for Monday to come so I could see Edward Cullen again and make a decision about my future...
******************i******************
When Monday morning finally arrived, I got up a little earlier than usual to apply some makeup on my face and try to "appear more feminine" as Alice said. My roommate was still sound asleep when I locked myself in the bathroom to take a long shower. "Locked myself" was not quite right given that we were still waiting for Emmett to repair our door and were currently using a bed sheet in lieu of a door to have some privacy when using the bathroom.
As lazy as I was, it hadn't been too difficult for me to wake up so early. I hadn't slept all night. I had envisioned countless scenarios involving Edward and myself, and each one of them had left me so hot and bothered that I had just tossed and turned in bed all night, trying in vain to fall asleep.
As more time went by, my thoughts towards Edward became increasingly... explicit. So much so that I was worried I would not be able to keep my composure during two long hours facing the subject of my fantasies.
My sleepless night had once again given me the opportunity to wonder about Edward's behavior when he had come to see me in my room. I couldn't figure out why he had told me that! Had he simply been toying with me the way he assumed I had toyed with him with my story? Or had he been sincere? What if he had been? Where did that leave me? What was he expecting? For me to be reasonable and keep my distance? Or for me to throw all caution to the wind and throw myself at him?
To kill time - and also because I couldn't help myself - I decided to interpret every word he had spoken to me. I reached a conclusion that was not particularly to my liking: Edward had rejected me the night of the freshmen welcome party because he was not attracted to me, but when he had found out about the erotic thoughts he sparked within my imagination, all of a sudden, he had become interested… Which meant that what he was truly interested in was the prospect of sleeping with me… Sex.
Sex with Edward…
Could that be enough for me?
It was a pretty good start.
Ugh, I hated not knowing what I was getting myself into. I could not be more anxious.
Pulling myself together, I went about my morning routine with a cheerful tune in my mind. I put on a pretty green dress with an open back. I felt it was a bit on the short side, but both Rose and Alice had approved, so I decided to trust them. I locked a lovely necklace around my neck, hoping it would remind Edward of Kristen Stewart, the heroine of my short story. I pulled my hair into a half-messy half-elegant bun, applied some light makeup, slipped on a pair of white ballerina, grabbed my bag and headed out the door towards the lecture hall.
******************i******************
Fortunately, no one commented on my absence during second period last week. Apparently, no student had made the connection between Edward's reading of 'The Submissive' and my sudden departure. I guess the girls were too busy ogling Edward to notice anything.
Edward entered the classroom right on time. My heart skipped a beat before assuming a frantic pace when I saw him. If he kept doing this to me, I would end up having a heart attack before I celebrated my 20th birthday… He was, as usual, simply stunning.
Indecently gorgeous.
The green shirt he was wearing brought out the color of his eyes and matched the short green dress I had opted for today. Our outfits conveniently matched well.
He subtly smiled at me when our eyes met. It was so sweet I literally melted inside. This man would be the death of me…
"Good morning, ladies! I hope you all spent a nice weekend and are well rested because we have a lot to cover today!" Edward spoke up, earning some chuckles from the girls in the front row.
He took a sip of his coffee, and I mentally despaired at my own insanity when I saw the liquid make its way down his Adam's apple and found the motion extremely sensual.
"What about you, Professor Cullen? How have you been since last time?" Jessica Stanley's nasal voice interrupted my contemplation of my professor's throat.
That queen bee had the audacity to openly flirt with Edward, summoning a 900 number voice. Edward did not seem as confounded as me. Then again, he was probably used to students flirting with him all the time. Too bad for Jessica.
"Well, Ms. Stanley, let's just say my week was very... instructive." he responded, locking eyes with me.
My reaction was unsurprising: I blushed profusely, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Breathe, Bella." Angela whispered next to me, elbowing me.
An 'instructive' week? Interesting choice of adjective.
"Today, we will talk about a novel by Gustave Flaubert, a 19th century French author who was one of the main influencers of realism, a literary movement characterized by the desire to represent French society as it was and analyze human behavior critically. Does anyone know one of his novels? Or better yet, has anyone ever read one of his novels?"
I would have gladly answered his question. Unfortunately, my brain was refusing to function.
"Come on, don't be shy. I have said this already. I want this seminar to be engaging, interactive. I want there to be an exchange between us. I want you to tell me what you like, what inspires you, what excites you. There is no place for shyness in this classroom, only boldness!"
Dear Lord, why did everything that came out of his mouth sound so sexy to me?
Perhaps because he utters words such as 'exchange', 'excites' and 'boldness' staring right at you. That's enough to make your body temperature rise a few degrees...
"Ms. Swan, you listed Flaubert in the questionnaire I had you fill on the first day of class. Could you please tell us a bit more about the author?"
Of course.
Ok, Bella, time to prove yourself. Show him that your mind is filled with more than just images of him violently taking you on a desk, on a piano or against a wall.
"Gustave Flaubert is the author of the famous novel 'Madame Bovary' among other things."
"Have you read it?"
"Yes, a few years ago."
"Can you tell your classmates about the plot?"
"If I remember correctly, it takes place in provincial Northern France. It's about a young woman, Emma, raised in a convent who lives on a farm with her father. She meets Charles Bovary, her father's doctor, catches his eye and agrees to marry him. Only, Emma is a sentimental, hopeless romantic with a passion for literature, and she quickly finds out that what she signed up for is very far from the fairy tales she reads."
I paused, trying to remember the story as accurately as possible. I had not enjoyed reading that novel, but Flaubert's writing style had made a lasting impression on me.
"Keep going…" Edward instructed.
Fuck.
Edward giving me orders was stirring me in an unexpected way.
No, no. Focus, Bella! On the novel. Not Edward. The N-O-V-E-L.
I proceeded to recount as much as I could remember of the story.
"Emma finds her married life dull, monotonous and becomes listless. Her husband does not give her the life full of adventures she had expected. After attending an elegant ball and getting a glimpse into the luxurious, grandiose, and eventful world she had always dreamed about, she grows increasingly bored with her middle-class existence. Her return to reality following the ball is brutal. Disillusioned and feeling ever suffocated by her lackluster life, she gets sick. In order for Emma to recover, the couple moves away to a bigger town. Emma gets better but remains disgusted with her husband. Even motherhood when she gives birth to her daughter brings Emma little joy. She begins a tumultuous affair with a local landowner and makes plans to run away with him. Frightened by the young woman's keen infatuation and semi-tired of her, her lover cowardly chooses to break it off. She seeks solace in religion for a while but eventually becomes involved in yet another extramarital relation. Her numerous purchases for herself and her lovers cause her to become severely indebted.
"Keep going…"
Ugghhh.
"Unable to get help from her past lovers or her neighbors and unwilling to confess her sins to her husband, Emma eventually commits suicide with arsenic. When her husband, Charles, stumbles upon old letters from her lovers, he dies of a broken heart. If I remember correctly, the last page of the novel explains that the couple's only child was sent to live with her paternal grandmother after her parent's death."
A heavy silence settled in the room, making me uncomfortable. Edward's eyes had not left me during my entire narration.
"Excellent memory, Ms. Swan." He finally commented with a satisfied smile.
Thank goodness. I had successfully managed to recount the story without making a fool of myself and with accuracy. Edward seemed pleased, which was a point in my favor.
"I am surprised and rather disappointed to see that so few of you know Flaubert who I believe is one of the great authors of French literature. 'Madame Bovary' is one of the works that we will study in this course. for next week, I want you to write a two-to-three-page detailed summary and critic of the novel. The book is quite long, so do not procrastinate. In the meantime, we shall talk about other works from Flaubert, and we shall discuss other great authors of the realist literature movement such as Zola, Baudelaire, Maupassant, or Balzac."
A very appealing plan for an enthusiast of literature such as myself. I was glad I had decided to remain enrolled in the course: this seminar was definitely right for me. To watch the object of my fantasies speaking of my favorite authors and works was exhilarating. Edward was not only devastatingly handsome, he was also brilliant. How could I resist him?
During the next hour and a half, I listened to Edward with the utmost attention, fascinated by his perspective on certain literary works. to my enchantment, he threw me a few discreet glances and even a few smirks. I was literally floating above of my desk.
I was disappointed when the bell rang, announcing the end of class and interrupting Edward in the midst of his critical analysis of 'Bel Ami', a classic work of French literature of the 19th century. Given the heavy sighs exhaled by the girls in the front row, I was not the only one disappointed by the class coming to an end.
"See you next week, ladies!" Do not forget about your assignment on 'Madame Bovary'! Thank you for your attention."
He returned behind his desk and started putting his notes back in his leather briefcase. I chose to take the exit closest to his desk to delay the inevitable and prolong my pleasant visual experience. While walking by the stage, I caught sight of the papers sticking out of his bag and was stunned to find out it was my manuscript. Dear Lord, did he always carry it with him?
Are you complaining? It's rather flattering...
Or extremely embarrassing.
Always such a drama queen…
"Something wrong, Ms. Swan?" Edward asked, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
Thank you for reading.
Let me know when you are ready for the next installment.
Until next time.