* CHAPTER 3 *

She kissed me across the room, giggling when the bed got in my way. With an aggressive shove, she laid me out on my back, legs flopped over the foot of the bed like a pair of limp noodles. I bounced off the mattress, catching big air at first and settling down like a dizzy top. When the bed stopped moving, I opened my eyes to the sight of Bella unclasping her bra.

"Nice."

She smiled at my lame compliment, but I couldn't find two brain cells to rub together. It would have to do. All signs were pointing in the right direction; this girl, bless her heart, wasn't looking for conversation. She was already peeling off her jeans. Jeans.

Bella Jean is not my lover . . . She's just a girl who claims that I am the one . . .

"What's so funny?" she asked, climbing on top of me. Naked, soft, girl.

I shook my head and reached for her. "You're soft. Nothing's funny."

"Tsk tsk tsk." She wagged her finger and pinned my hands to my sides. "I'm driving, remember?"

Don't let her tie you up, said the buzzkiller. I was inclined to listen, but until the rope or knife or gun came out, I was planning to enjoy the ride. "You're a little bit of a freak, aren't you?" My words were sloppy, but she got the message.

"Maybe, but I don't get many complaints."

I'd just learned two things: this girl had experience, and even better, she was good. Her knuckles hit my fly while her fingers worked open the buttons. I pulled in a deep, happy breath. You, sir, are about to get laid.

Yo, dude, protection!

I lifted my head off the bed just as her lips touched down on my belly. A swish of a tongue. Fingers. Teeth. Lower. Hey, I'm naked. Damn! What was I saying?

My head fell back and bounced. Oh yes, condom. Crap. I mustered the strength to raise my head again, and wouldn't you know it? The girl was rolling the condom over my stiffie.

My blessed saint. Saint Bella Jean of the One Night Stand.

The bed shifted left, right, left, right. My body was a canoe tossed on a stormy sea. Her knee at my hip, and then the other. My hands on her thighs as she lowered herself onto my lap. Soft skin. So soft.

"Play with my nipples," she said, showing me what to do with her own fingers. I took over the rolling and pinching, fascinated with the tiny buds but even more so by her sex face. She threw her head back and rolled back and forth over my dick like a shoeshine brush polishing a pair of wingtips. Ah, fuck yeah, polish my knob . . .

I held back a million things I was desperate to say. Thank you. Faster. Slower. Harder. Enough torture! Take me inside you! All these things I kept inside, worried I might break the spell.

She lifted her hips and rearranged things, and then she was sinking, squeezing, riding me. She covered my hands with hers. "Harder! Harder!" She demanded; I produced. The room turned into an echo chamber of sex sounds—slapping flesh and grunted, urgent requests, gasps, groans and whimpers.

Hot fluid spurted out and pooled in the latex reservoir. She rode me to the last, trotting the horse back to the barn for his cooldown. I had to remind myself to breathe.

"God, that was amazing." I looked up into her smile. "Oh, you didn't . . .?"

She gently pried my hands off her tits and lifted her right leg up and over. "It's okay. I hardly ever do. Don't get weird. It's not a big deal." She had already hopped into her jeans, underwear and all.

"Wait, wait . . ." I put my elbows under me and pushed, but I was jello, not a bone to be found.

She stuffed her bra inside her purse—where there hopefully wasn't a gun, because now would have been just the right time for her to use it—and pulled her shirt around her shoulders. "Thanks for dinner and for this. I had a nice time."

Oh god, she was leaving. I'd just fucked a girl whose last name I didn't even know, and apparently, I'd done a shit job of it.

Told you, gloated the buzzkill.

Bella gave me one last glance as she pulled her purse strap over her shoulder. "Good luck in the bingo hall tomorrow. Give my love to your mother."

Author's Note: Well, I guess that answers a few questions. Bella Jean doesn't seem to be asking for money, nothing too kinky happened there, and Edward's not dead. Shall we see how it goes in the morning?

I want to thank you all for your reviews, which leave me either chuckling or thinking harder about my characters (two of my favorite activities!). And thanks so much to Fic Sisters and The International House of Fan Fiction for their lovely review of this story, which can be found on their blog at ficsisters (dot com). To real life Bella Jean, don't go upstairs with strangers, okay? ;)

XXX ~BOH