was it mean of me leaving you on that cliffhanger? yep. am I babbling up here just to stall? also yep lmao.
go on, you know you want to find out if Edward is that stupid...
fever dream
7
Stupid, Edward. This is so fucking stupid.
Raking a hand through my hair, I stare up at the Notte Oscura sign shining gold in the mid-morning sun.
Sweat is beading on my hairline, running down my back. I haven't stepped foot in the building yet but I'm second-guessing this whole decision hard.
She's going to flip.
Okay, that gets a little smirk out of me, I'll admit. The thought of her face, her reaction to seeing me, here, is enough to get my feet moving. Stuffing my keys into my pocket, I head in, grateful for the A/C when the doors glide open and the receptionist looks up. Her sunny smile makes me smile.
"Hi there! You must be Anthony?"
Right, Anthony.
I wasn't sure how familiar Bella's staff might be with her family. She doesn't really mix business with pleasure; her staff don't attend family parties or things like that. At least, most of them don't. When she's not on maternity leave, Rose is her PA and headhunter.
"Th-that's right." I registered with my middle name, just in case. It's a common enough name that it shouldn't stand out if Rose or Bella were to see it written anywhere.
"Follow me, sweet. Your paperwork and everything is filed, your screening all came back good." She winks, slipping out from behind her desk to guide me down one of the three halls off the foyer. "Well done, you."
Uh, right.
Rolling my lips to stifle a grin, I follow her into a dressing room. There's a railing with a selection of shirts and pants hanging on it, a big bottle of water on the coffee table, and a couple of protein bars stacked beside it. Condensation pools on the glass-topped table, my eyes catching the reflection of the poster hanging on the wall. It's a man and woman fucking over the back of a couch, their bodies in shadow, just gray and black silhoettes against a city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows.
It kind of reminds me of Monday at my place when I talked Bella into staying over, and the memory makes my dick stir in my sweats.
"Okay, so there's a shower through that door over there. Towels and shower products are provided, just toss the towel in the hamper when you're done and slip into whatever you feel most comfortable in." Pointing at the rail of clothes, she adds, "I think the aim is to go for a more formal look at the beginning, so maybe a shirt and dress pants, but check with the stylist when she pops by in a few, okay?"
"Okay."
"Any questions?"
Is it too late to back out? I wonder, immediately shaking it off.
"No, I'm good. Thanks."
"No probs." Stepping out, she hesitates in the doorway, flashing me an impish grin before she shuts the door. "Good luck, and enjoy! Molly's a real babe."
Molly.
It's the first time I've heard her name, the girl I'll be fucking today.
Pulling on my hair, I wonder for the millionth time whether I'm doing the right thing. Whether I'm screwing myself royally, and not in the good way at all.
In the end, I don't have too much time to wonder.
The stylist arrives a couple minutes later and shoos me into the shower, reminding me to manscape quickly if I haven't already and pointing to a white shirt and gray slacks. "Put those on once you're done and holler. I'll come back to fix your hair and make-up."
Staring at myself in the mirror across from the narrow shower stall, I don't give myself time to second-guess anything, washing and drying myself quickly. While I button my shirt, I poke my head out into the hall and smile at the stylist. Jenny, I think she said her name was.
She's chatty and personable, obviously used to putting nervous guys—like me—at ease. I let her voice lull me into a state of calm, my nerves only making a reappearance when she squeezes my shoulders and declares me 'ready.'
If you say so, I think, swallowing hard when she pulls a long swatch of black silk from her jean pocket.
"Blindfold time, stud."
This was your idea, moron, I remind myself as she leads me out into the hall. Heavier footsteps join us after a few steps.
"Hey, man. Curtis, studio manager."
Chuckling uncomfortably, unsure on my feet in an unfamiliar place with my eyes covered, I nod in the direction of his voice. "E—Anthony."
"Nice to meet you, man. Okay, so you know what's gonna happen today?" Just in case I'm unsure, he proceeds to run through the rough plan—rough, because 'sometimes these things script themselves.'
I mean, what do I know? I've never done anything like this before. Not unless using my cell phone to video my high school girlfriend sucking me off counts.
When we get to the door to the studio, Jenny wishes me good luck and heads off, leaving me with Curtis, who promises not to let me walk into anything. Funny guy.
With clammy hands and a heart rate like I've just chugged six cans of Redbull, I lick my dry lips and vaguely listen to his reminder that I can stop at any time, this is all strictly consensual and safe, and there are 'aids' if I struggle to get it up.
Like getting a boner is the biggest problem I'm going to have today.
As soon as we step into the room, I can feel her.
She's electric, magnetic, any of the fucked-up romance tropes you can think of. She's all of 'em.
Randomly, I think I can hear Rose's voice before a hand is wrapped around my forearm, nails digging into my skin as I stumble back the way I've just come, door slamming shut, heaving breath fanning across my chest where Jenny made me leave the shirt half undone.
"What the hell are you doing?" My blindfold is yanked down to hang under my chin and suddenly, I have no issues whatsoever summoning an erection.
Fuck. She's sin.
I had trouble controlling myself earlier when she was sitting by the pool wearing denim shorts and a white tee that hung low on one shoulder.
Now, in a form-fitting blouse and a skirt that hugs her fucking gorgeous hips, she's the temptation incarnate.
Her red-painted scowl is begging to be kissed away, the snap of her dark eyes as she glares up at me only more of a turn-on. She rarely looks more sexy to me than when she's mad. Sue me, it's a sickness, but the woman is fire when she's angry.
"I'm single now," I say, all false bravado as I lift my shoulders, drop them in what I hope seems like a casual shrug. "Figured I'd see what this is all about. Seems like a good gig."
"A good…" Bella blows a breath through her nose, and it's all I can do not to smile or kiss her until we're both breathless. "Edward...you can't just waltz in here and...and…"
"What? Waltz in here and what, Bella?"
Sidling closer, I smirk when her heaving breath makes her breasts brush against my chest. Her nipples are hard little peaks under that blouse, and I'd bet my loft on her pussy being soaked. She gets off on this as much as I do, the sexy little freak.
"I'm not going to watch you fuck her," she growls, hands moving to her hips.
I want to replace them with mine. I want to spin her against this wall and take her right there, where anyone could walk by and catch us.
One day, a small voice in the back of my mind begs.
"I didn't ask you to," I point out.
"You...urgh. Why are you doing this?"
"I told you. I'm not with Vicky anymore, figured I'd check this out. The chick last week was hot. Britney, was it?"
My words...they're landing right where I want them to. She's spitting fire at me right now, eyes alight, hand twitching at her side. She wants to slap me or pull me closer. I'm not sure which I'd find hotter, to be honest. I expected a reaction, obviously. I just didn't know which way it would go.
A part of me was cruelly hoping she'd be more upset than mad, but this works, too.
I hate to say it so soon, but this could work.
This could be the wake-up call I've been waiting for her to receive.
"Fuck you, Edward. Fuck. You."
Shaking my head and stepping back, I adjust my blindfold, getting ready to slide it back into place as I step around her toward the door to the studio. "No, Bella, fuck you. It's okay for you to get your rocks off with my brother, but I can't come hook up with some hot chick and get paid for it? Nah, that's not how this works."
Her sharp gasp follows me into studio two as I shift the blindfold back into place, praying this won't backfire as spectacularly as it feels like it could.
~ fd ~
Suds run down the drain in a river of white bubbles.
I stare down at it, arms hanging by my sides, water rushing over my head and shoulders.
Fucking hell.
Molly was great. Fit, spunky, and up for a great time. I can't complain at all, especially not since I caught a glimpse at the cash Curtis slipped into my envelope before he handed it to me. I don't need the money, not really; I just said that to get at Bella. Still...I can see why people do this regularly.
It's a good payer, and if you're not head-over-heels in love with a woman who completely owns you, it's a great gig.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I groan, fist pressing into tile, wondering why the hell I thought that was a good idea.
Bella lied when she said she wouldn't watch.
I felt her, the whole damn time.
When I had Molly on her back on the bed. When I ate her out on the ottoman. When I blew my load over her face as she knelt back against the wingback chair.
And when I left; spent, four grand heavier, yet feeling more hollow than ever.
The beep of my phone on the counter is my alarm to let me know Em and Jas are picking me up in thirty minutes.
Dragging myself out of the shower, I fuck around with my hair for a bit before deciding to leave it wild; dry will do.
As promised, I slip the Cookie Monster tie Jameson picked out for me over a blue shirt; the one Bella says brings out the blue in my green eyes. Pale gray slacks, brown shoes, and a spray of deodorant later, and I'm ready.
Just in time, too. The buzzer sounds just as I stuff my wallet and keys into my back pocket, sliding my watch on as I head out to the elevator.
"Happy birthday, bro! How's it feel to join the thirty club?" Emmett hollers as soon as I step out at the bottom. My neighbor, an old man called Mr. Rickshaw, shakes his head at my brother's volume, but waves at me and grunts a half-hearted "happy birthday, son".
"Fuckin' A," I grumble, shrugging him off when he tries to scrub my head with his knuckles.
"Ay! Why so glum, chum?" Slinging an arm around my shoulders, he tugs me out onto the street with Jas laughing it up behind us. The bar we're going to tonight belongs to my friend Jake, and it's only a couple of blocks away.
I spend the short walk kicking myself for not pre-drinking and forcing myself to cheer up. No matter how mad she is, Bella won't bail on my birthday. The McCallan is already out on the coffee table with two glasses and my present for her. I know it's my birthday, but I figure a gift is in order after my little stunt earlier. Hopefully she'll have cooled off enough by the time we get back there to let me put the new cuffs and spreader bar on her.
By the time we make it to Dawn, there's a sizable line forming outside and I'm excited to see Bella. Yesterday, she sent me a picture of the dress she's planning to wear tonight, and hell. If it looks half as good on her as it did hanging on the rail in her walk-in closet, I'm in for an uncomfortable night until I get her home.
The bouncer recognizes us, lifting the rope to let us in—much to the disgust and protest of the people in the line.
Music thumps in my ears and my chest as soon as we get through the foyer, thick double doors keeping most of the noise from spilling out onto the street. With the bass changing the beat of my heart, I follow my brothers through the throngs of people and start scanning the dance floor for my woman. The lights shift and swirl over the bodies writhing and grinding down there; the dance floor sunken in, a few feet lower than the circular level that wraps all the way around. There's another level for VIP guests and a separate bar, too. That's where we head, flashing the gold VIP bands the bouncer gave us on the way in.
I recognize a couple of people, customers from the handful of bars and restaurants I co-own in the city. Frustrated that I can't see Bella anywhere, I'm a little too short with them, too quick to snatch two shots off the tray Jas returns with after a few minutes.
Sambuca.
It burns all the way down, reminding me of the time Bella brought a bottle to the motel with her after a shit day at work. Her nonna gave it to her and fuck was it good shit.
"Look at my girl go," Em yells in my ear just before I turn to ask him where the girls are at.
Following his line of sight, I see Rose first in her sparkly purple dress. Sequins everywhere; Katie would adore it. Alice is right there with her, and for a moment I'm worried, wondering where Bella is, wondering if she's bailed after all.
Then I see her draped all over some guy, hands wrapped around his neck, lips pressed against his chest as he ducks his head to speak to her. The music shifts, changing into something slower but even more intense, the singer wailing about writhing bodies and hands everywhere and honestly, I could fucking cry.
Because as she turns, the guy lifts his head to grin at her, pressing a kiss against her forehead and spinning her under his arm. The sambuca sits like lead in my stomach when the earth stops spinning just for a second.
Our eyes lock. Hers and mine.
She sees me and freezes, shock bleeding into determination, then to a wicked smirk. I mouth "no" as she dips, knees bending, and realize exactly why she hasn't bailed tonight. Why she's come out tonight even though she's furious with me.
She knows as well as I do that the worst punishment she can give me is keeping her distance, and what better way to do that than hang all over my big brother, who must have made it home in time for my birthday after all?
Touché, Bella.
Well played.
friendly reminder that this is fiction, yes they're both dumb, and no I wouldn't condone anything they're done if this were real life.
also, for the love of all things holy and my sanity, PLEASE DO NOT ever think that it is okay to not only make changes to someone else's writing-fic or otherwise-and then print it out and advertise it to everyone else as a great idea. it isn't clever, it isn't a fantastic idea, it's PLAGIARISM and goes against copyright law.
happy saturday!