All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.
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"Little girl, you don't even want to know."
"I may be a little girl, but you better believe there are a few things that I could teach you. I also hope you realize how trite that response was. Little girl? Seriously? Haven't you heard that females emotionally mature earlier than boys. And besides, Queen Bey already declared that we run the world." She took a drag of her cigarette and proceeded to blow a smoke ring in his direction.
Edward couldn't help the belly-laugh that escaped, but seeing that it seemed to stoke her ire, he quickly lifted his hands in surrender, "shit, you got me, okay? I won't call you little girl ever again. You just caught me off guard. I dig it. Scold me anytime you want."
Looking pleased with herself, Bella turned her attention back to the waning fire, allowing Edward to examine her profile. She really was pretty, and in his current state of drunkenness or lust, maybe some combination of both, he couldn't help but imagine what she would like under him. Lips parted and head thrown back, making vulnerable her long, graceful neck. What might it look like to have his hand there? The contrast between his paler skin to her olive. This is dangerous, Edward thought as he watched Bella's throat muscles flex and relax as she swallowed, hoping that it was a sign he affected her just as she did him. This girl, Emmett's baby sister, was fucking cute. And though he felt like shit for it, he couldn't help the visceral reaction to the way her perky tits teased in the slightly too big dress or the way it highlighted the subtle flair of her hips as she walked down the porch steps and towards the beer when she first arrived. Watching her take in the scene, he was surprised she maintained eye contact when she caught him staring before not-so-subtly checking him out; he was going to talk to her. Fortunately, the opportunity presented in the form of two teens unacquainted with a keg. Only seeing her close up did he realize how young she might be, evident in the fullness of her face that comes with youth.
At 25, he wasn't that much older than her; seven years wasn't such a big deal between two consenting adults. But his birthday was in about a month- would eight years be a deal-breaker? Probably. Being Emmett's little sister was the real punch to the gut; his friend might murder him. However, watching Bella take another sip of her beer, with more caution than before, and licking the residue from her bottom lip, the devil on his shoulder was firmly in the "worth it" camp. He couldn't decide which inspired his semi more, the small glimpse of her tongue on her full bottom lip or the liquid spilling down her chin. Both triggered obscene thoughts of what it might look like being the reason she needed to clean up.
Bella shifted from one foot to another, snapping him back into the present; he realized she was almost done with her cigarette and would likely head back inside. Not wanting to lose his chance- for what specifically he was not ready to admit. He cleared his throat before saying, "I'm almost afraid you'll yell at me again, but can I ask? Do you have an accent? It's just; I'm pretty sure Emmett does not, and it's throwing me a bit."
Wrapping her arms around her middle and turning back towards him, she responded, "oh, yeah. People hardly say anything anymore, but umm, I went to live with my mom for a bit- she's Mexican. Well, Mexican-American, she has dual citizenship. It's a long story."
He wanted to dig, but sensing her discomfort, he settled for, "all good, your voice is really pretty is all. If you were with me at college reading my textbooks to me, I probably would've graduated with honors. Or failed miserably, but I'm sure it would have been worth it."
"Ah, see, that's a much better attempt at flirting than your first try. Were you in the MBA program with Emmett?" Bella responded, thankful that her flushed cheeks could be blamed on the alcohol rather than betraying the deep gratification she felt at his calling her voice pretty.
Taking one last drag of his cigarette and tossing it in the fire, "no, that's kind of a long story too. He and I met through a mutual friend."
"Is that code for had the same drug dealer? Tell me everything so that I can judge you," she demanded playfully. But realizing her hypocrisy as she watched him rub the back of his neck, chucking nervously, she quickly added, "ugh, ignore me. I can be pushy. But we, or I mean I, can head back in. I told them I would kick their asses at King's cup anyway-"
"No, it's okay, I can tell you. Just be gentle with your judgment. Or take it as a cautionary tale for when you head to college in a few months-"
"I'm not going to college."
"Oh- is that a long story, too?" He asked teasingly
"Ha-ha. No, I'm going to teach yoga and travel the world."
"Alright. We're going to come back to that. It's kinda cold. Should we go inside, or do you want to keep hanging out here? I can get some more wood for the fire?"
A thrill ran down his spine at how quickly she responded with, "here is fine," while biting her lip. Unable to stop his smile, he jogged toward the deck where they found the wood and kindling earlier and grabbed the meager last of it.
As they sat in front of the small fire, neither seeming to mind the dirt, Edward explained that he had initially received a full-ride scholarship to NYU for Music Theory and Composition. Despite his love for the program, the city was too intoxicating for someone who spent their childhood in a suburb of Chicago and eventually Port Angeles when his parents divorced. He regaled her with his experiences meeting as many new people and places as possible. While he first checked off his list of the more touristy sites, he soon learned he wanted to experience the parts of New York that weren't mentioned on Instagram, travel sites, or click-bait top 10 lists. He left his comfort zone to revel in new experiences: tastes, sights, sounds, women. He had a blast. But, in his pursuit of the city's treasures, he neglected his studies. After losing his scholarship, he tried to stay in Manhattan as long as possible, shacking up with his then-girlfriend and her rotation of roommates. Emily, a New York native he loved, not dearly, but just enough was a wannabe influencer with a gap in her front teeth and a body that would make models cry. That is until he experienced the first real burnout in his life, emotionally and financially. The gig economy he navigated with enthusiasm at first took its toll, and a little bit each day, he realized more and more that he could not bear to spend another moment in Emily's tiny apartment, seemingly bursting at the seems with her friends and acquaintances.
"So, yeah, I pretty much just admitted defeat and figured my dad's smugness was bearable if he could help me get home. He wanted me back in Chicago with him, but I'll never forgive the way that piece of shit treated my ma. Luckily he realized that I'd be less of a burden to him if I stuck to Washington," he said with distaste before continuing, "so he was able to pull some strings to help me get into UDub's Architectural Design program. I had to redo some electives and prep courses, but at least I was still doing something creative and lucrative enough that my dad would cover the costs," he finished, turning to check if Bella was still awake. He found her knees to her chest and head resting on them as her fingers traced semi-circles in the dirt around her.
"So that's why it took me so long to finish undergrad. Jesus, I must sound like the most boring person you ever met," he laughed, feeling self-conscious for the first time all night.
"No! It all sounds so exciting. You're a good storyteller- I can totally see baby Edward befriending a Drag Queen and taking shots from her flask behind a bar," she giggled.
Groaning, he stood up and extended his hand towards her, "come on, let's go find some drinks, so you'll think I'm funny and attractive for a little bit longer."
"Luckily for you, I thought you were hot, like, the second I met you, but you might be right about the being funny thing. Let's take a shot. Shit, I should probably look for Rose too."
Walking into the house, they soon realized most partygoers had left, were asleep, or otherwise occupied in one of the spare rooms. This realization caused Bella to panic, and for the first time all night realized she didn't have her phone. After a couple of frantic minutes, it was found on the counter where she had taken a shot with her brother. She felt instant relief to see a text from Rose saying that she was out front talking to Royce in his car. After calling and confirming she was still there and okay, Bella informed her that she was just inside hanging out with Edward, and everyone else had left. What she hoped translated to: under no circumstances could Royce sneak in yet and give me just 20-30 minutes longer alone with him. After hanging up, she twirled on her tiptoes to face Edward and smiled to see he had already prepared two mystery shots and White Claw chasers.
"Sounds like everything is okay then?" He said, returning her smile.
Dying a little bit inside at how much better he looked when he did. "Yep, not murdered or anything, just outside talking to her kind-of boyfriend."
Handing her the shot, "should we toast to us?"
"To us?" She responded, equals parts confused and giddy
"Yeah. Because I am so charming and hot that I managed to make you forget about your bestie's physical safety and virtue. And to you…. For being such a great friend," he finished sarcastically, raising his shot glass just a little higher.
Without skipping a beat, Bella gingerly placed her shot on the counter and attacked. Pinching whatever piece of flesh she could find: side, stomach, arm, while playfully whisper-screeching, "I hate you, you're the worst, and your story was boring, and you're ugly." Laughing, Edward spilled his shot while trying to hold her off gently. It wasn't until he felt
the counter pressing into him, with Bella's body weight against him, his cock to her lower belly. As his hands instinctively dropped to her waist, he knew his trip to hell would be worth it.
Bella was almost embarrassed by the gasp, a borderline moan, that escaped her lips. If it weren't for Edward's dilated eyes and the way he looked down to see where they were now connected, she might have been.
"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, burning her from her deepest layers as his eyes made the trip up her body, making a brief stop at her parted lips until finally meeting her eyes.
Reduced to some primordial state, she gave the slightest nod, and he was on her, his lips brushing hers, before gently biting the bottom. A prelude to the intensity that followed. Never had she experienced a first kiss without insecurity, one in which the desire immediately flooded her from waist to toe. She didn't even attempt to stop the moan that escaped her lips as Edwards's hand reached her breast, rubbing her hardened nipple between his index and middle fingers. Encouraged by her response, he let his other hand find her ass squeezing and pulling her closer as he parted her legs to settle her core against the juncture of his leg and thigh.
It wasn't until he broke for a full, deep breath did Edward have the mind to remember his surroundings, "Emmett's going to fucking kill me," he chuckled humorlessly.
Pleased that despite breaking their kiss, he moved both hands to her ass, keeping her firmly held against him.
"I won't tell him," Bella punctuated with a slight wiggle of her hips.
"Fuck." Edward removed his hands from her to rub his face, "okay, let's go watch a movie."
Allowing him to push her away from him gently, she clarified, "you mean Netflix and chill, right? I swear to god if-"
"Bella, we can spread some blankets on the floor and get under them to keep warm." He interrupted before leaning to whisper in her ear, "someone could walk into the kitchen at any moment. I can't have anyone else's eyes seeing what I want to do to you." Straightening back up and returning to his normal volume, he asked, "do you wanna find some blankets? I can get our drinks and pick something to watch."
He turned, grabbing their cans of White Claw before making his way to the living room, directing her to get going with a nod of his head and a smirk. Not giving herself a moment to overthink or feed her nerves, she thanked the universe that the linen closet was just off the living room and it was well stocked. Grabbing the blankets and making her way to Edward, she heard the unmistakable sound of the Netflix opening theme at the start of a movie and Edward collecting throw pillows from the couch. With excitement and desire on the verge of combustion, they quickly set up their makeshift bed and reconnected, from pelvis to mouth. Savoring the experience of Edwards weight on top of her as they made out, Bella wondered if the bulge in his pants was as big as it felt between her legs. She was dying to know what it would be like to have it in her mouth. Edward, lost in her, was having a hard time deciding which his hands loved more, her sensitive nipples or being able to grab an actual handful of her ass. Shifting to his side, he couldn't wait any longer as she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. He pulled her already hiked-up dress to her waist. Watching her face as he cupped her hot cunt over her panties before slipping them aside to rub two fingers between her folds. Circling her entrance, he couldn't resist the compulsion to feel surrounded by her, hot, wet, and tight.
Grabbing his wrist, Bella watched as he lowered his gaze to see her rock on his fingers as they entered her, relishing the feeling of fullness and wanting more. "Let's go find an empty room or somewhere else. The blanket isn't private enough."
AN:
Is there a word for whisper-screeching? Never have I spent so much time rereading and editing something I wrote. If you find a mistake, don't tell me, but please leave a review!
