A/N soooooo, apparently that last note brought some of you out of the woodwork. so glad to see you all! we finally hit 100, which means we got to pop open some wine and aim for 200! ambitious we know, but we know you can do it!
lots of talk of hannah....is she/isn't she gone? time will tell. for now we want to open things up to you. we've seen a lot of things on a/n's and we want to know what you want to see....promise of teasers...interviews with the characters....you let us know. we can be very accommodating....
once again none of this mess happens with out off-the-deep-end, she is fantastic!
***
The rain bounces off the sidewalk and back up at me as we run for the safety of my building. The awning comes into sight and I pull him under with me and peer out at the dark sky. I really should pay more attention to the weather before going out. He presses his lips to the side of my neck and I try to fight the sigh that builds in my throat I really do, but it just slips out.
I grin at him before opening the door and bounding up the stairs. Elevators are for wimps. His heavy footsteps echo after mine and I feel the familiar burn of excitement I get when being chased. I force my heart rate to level as I reach my door. There should probably be more thought involved in this process, a slow re-ascent into some sort of steady, healthy relationship, but I have long since grasped my inability to do anything right when it comes to relationships and by the way Edward is still clutching my hand and I don't think he'll mind.
The door releases its hold on its frame and we both partially fall into the apartment. No lights are on, which means Emmett is out. Probably for the best at this point. I am hazy at best on this situation and another person asking questions might shift this fragile arrangement into oblivion.
I reach for the light switch and cringe when my damp shirt makes the movement almost impossible. I hate being in wet clothes. That whole throwing someone in the pool fully clothed was truly mean. Doesn't stop Emmett. The denim of my jeans rubs and whines against my movements and I cringe.
Annnnd, now I'm cold. I pout to myself and reach down unbuttoning my jeans and slowly shimmying out of them. Once they hit the floor in a wet heap I feel more free. I kick them towards the washer and dryer and pull my shirt over my head to join them. It's only when I hear a hiss of breath that I remember that I am not alone.
For a brief moment I feel a little modesty, but it passes quickly. Boy shorts and a cotton bra hardly show as much as a bathing suit, he can hardly be scandalized. I start up the stairs, but pause when I don't hear him behind me. I turn slowly to find him still standing in the entry his eyes moving from my discarded clothes to me over and over.
A smirk crosses my lips as I cross my arms over my chest. His eyes finally settle on mine and I can see his chest rising and falling rapidly. For someone I know has been a serious relationship that probably involved sex….wait. Holy shit. What if Edward has never had sex? I swallow thickly before backing slowly up the stairs.
"Edward, you have seen a girl in her underwear before, in person, right?" I ask gently. I watch as his eyes switch from awe to something darker.
"Obviously," He states making slow progress towards me. He reaches the bottom of the stairs just as I reach the top. I grasp both railings and lean forward a little. His eyes widen at the view. Men are so easy and yet I don't mind the leering as long as it's him. Under his stare I don't feel appraised, just appreciated. And warm and possibly just a tiny bit tingly.
"You're looking at me like a kid who just found his dad's Playboy," I tease. He clears his throat, but keeps his eyes steady.
"I'm just appreciating the view," he answers hoarsely. I smile again at him and turn into my room. I don't wait to hear his footsteps this time. The drawers of my dresser groan as I pull them open reaching in for a pair of sweats and at shirt. Then cold fingers grasp at my hips. I hiss at the contact and immediately try to squirm out of his hold, but he holds firm.
"I wasn't done looking," he whispers into my neck. I shiver when his warm breath hits my cool skin. Slowly he turns me back around to face him. I hold my clothes against my chest and lower my eyes. From a distance when I have the control is one thing, up close is different.
Even though I'm not looking I can feel his eyes sweep over my body. His hands gently trail up and down my sides, skimming, but releasing his hold. I feel my sweats being pulled from my hands and then the sound of them landing on the floor. I take a steady breath and lift my eyes.
Edward is looking straight at me. Not at my boobs or any other part of me, but my eyes. The breath whooshes from me and I smile softly. His hands resume their pattern, up and down. I wish he would just take hold, do something more than barely touch.
His hands take hold of my hips and he pulls me flush against him. His clothes still hold that damp chill that started all this. I gasp and pull away slightly. The hurt in his eyes is so obviously I almost suck it up and snuggle up to his cold jeans, but come on. I am barely clothed.
"No offense love, but you're freezing," I laugh. He looks down at his damp clothes and smiles sheepishly at me. He reaches for the bottom of his shirt and, holy hell, he's taken it off. He tosses towards my laundry hamper and I laugh at his memory. I swallow hard and take in his bare chest.
All those button up shirts did no justice to what was underneath. I reach out my hand slowly looking up at him for permission. His eyes are heavy lidded as he looks down at me. That damn smirk reappears as he takes my hand in his and places it on his chest. His skin is cold, but smooth. I let my hand trail up and down the exposed skin.
This time he shivers under my touch. I wonder if all pencil necks look this good underneath all those blazers and ties. I step closer to him again ignoring the icy denim and press our chests together slowly. I know I am pushing limits here, I may not be the most morally balanced person, but there are some things that can wait. Till tomorrow at least.
My heart hammers in my chest and I wonder if he can feel it. I glance up at him to find him looking down at me. I laugh at his fogged glasses.
"A little heated up there love?" I ask. I wipe my fingers gently across the glass. Once his eyes are revealed to me I smile again and then can't fight off the yawn that follows.
"As heated as you are," he answers softly, his hands now tracing across my bare back. I lay my head on his chest and let my eyes slide closed. We stay there like that for longer than I would like to admit, long enough for the chill of his jeans to work its way into me. I shiver and pull him tighter, but that only makes it worse. I sigh and pull away.
"As much as I like this, I really, really want my sweats," I apologize. He chuckles and releases me. Once out of his arms all the fears and warnings held at bay by his arms rush into my head. I slip into my sweats and slip my bra off before covering my torso with my t-shirt. The voices in my mind made me turn my back to Edward before I did that.
Damn those voices and the irrational insecurity they give me. I pull the covers back from the bed and slip under the comforter relieved to be pressed into something warm and not denim. I glance up at Edward who is standing at the end of the bed his hands deep in his pockets.
"Are you going to stand there or are you going to ditch those awful jeans and come to bed?" That came out wrong. I didn't mean bed like that, I can't, and it's not… And yet it doesn't stop the smirk from crossing his face and his hands reaching for the button of his jeans. I turn my face into my pillow and try not to give into my urge to call this all off.
I can do this. I can be with this man. This man who humors my oddities, hell I think he might even like them. He will make this easy for me. If I can just calm the urge to run.
The covers lift and the mattress sinks as he slips in next to me. His feet find mine under the covers and I don't even mind that they are freezing. I rub my feet up and down his calves. He lays his head close to mine we take turns breathing in each others breaths.
"I didn't mean to say it like you had to stay, you can go if you want," I offer. Give him a way out. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop doing that. Save himself and all that.
"I want to stay if that's ok?" He would ask rather than just leave it at that. I don't answer, worried that my reply will be laced with a scold. I reach over next to me and turn off the light. His shallow breathing is comforting and my bed seems to mold to the two of us, pushing our bodies together. So much for boundaries and rules.
***
I tap my pen against the desk impatiently. I want this day to be over. I want to go see Bella. Bella who let's me kiss her whenever I want, Bella who kicks all of the blankets to the bottom of the bed in the middle of the night and then curls up around me because she's freezing. Bella who actually likes having me around.
There's only another hour left of this shit. One hour is nothing in the grand scheme of anything. One hour is only sixty minutes. In one hour you can read the newspaper from front to back or watch a television show. With an hour you can take a nap or cook dinner.
I can learn a song in an hour. What I can't fucking do though, is sit here for another hour when the day already feels more like a week.
And I'm so fucking bored here. All I keep thinking about is Bella wiggling out of her wet jeans and then taking her shirt off. And then my dick will get hard for about five minutes until Kara walks by and it just… boom. Drops.
I groan in frustration because only five minutes have passed and I was pretty sure the hour was up.
"Lenora," I sigh to the woman next to me. She looks at me with a slight smile. Lenora is a really nice girl. She's just insane. She stalked me when I first started working here until she found out I had a girlfriend. She always has cat hair on her clothes. And she listens to the light radio station all fucking day long. "How 'bout a new station for the rest of the day?"
Her smile falters slightly. "You don't like 311?" she asks and looks crushed.
Lenora is a fragile girl. "I do," I lie and try for an enthusiastic genuine nod. "But we've heard Love Song five times today." And if I hear it again, I'm going to take my pencil and stab you in the jugular with it.
Obviously I don't add that violent last part. But at this point, I'm feeling so fucking nuts and caged up that I don't even think I can be held accountable for my actions.
"The song is almost over," she says and turns back to her work.
Yeah, 311 is gonna be replaced by Celine Dion. And if I hear her sing about driving all night one more time… well, Lenora and I are going to war.
The phone next to me buzzes. "Hello?"
"Edward? It's Violet."
"What's going on?" I ask and start tapping my foot.
311 has been replaced by "Truly Madly Deeply." Lenora loves this one. She dedicated it to me during her crush stage. She turns around in her chair and smiles, a light pink blush staining her cheeks. I wink at her.
"You have a visitor, sweetheart," she says and I sit up straighter.
"Who?" I ask.
"She said it's a surprise. Just to get your pencil neck out here," Violet ends with a laugh.
And I feel my heart speed up and the smile as it spreads on my face and all of the shit from today, all of the Celine Dion and 311 and Savage Garden suddenly don't matter. "Alright, I'll be right out."
I push away from the desk and start packing my shit up at warp speed. Kara's not even here to give me a hard time about leaving early today. I mean, I'm only fifteen minutes early but she'd start her shit.
I beat back the urge to run to her. Not because it's pathetic but because it's inappropriate.
I push the door open and there she is, leaning over the counter talking to Violet about something, and laughing. And she turns her head and looks at me and her smile is big and her eyes are sparkling and god, I am so fucked. This woman is just… going to completely undo me.
I feel myself smiling back at her and then I'm striding over to her. I take her little hand in mine and lean in to kiss her once, a tiny little kiss because anything more would embarrass Violet.
"Hi," I pull back and say.
"I've come to steal you away," she says, eyes sparkling, fingers entwined with mine. "Is that okay?"
Is that okay? That's more than fucking okay. I turn and look at Violet. "It's up to Vi," I say with a slow smile. "She runs shit around here."
Violet laughs and waves her hand at me. "Oh, hush. Go. Have fun. Have a drink for me… and maybe a little something else."
She winks and Bella laughs and I blush. Violet is possibly one of the most perverted older ladies that I have ever met. I put my arm around Bella's waist and pull her close to my side.
"See you tomorrow," I say.
"It was nice seeing you again, Izzy," Violet says.
Bella smiles at her, waves, and says, "See you soon."
And then we're outside, in the fresh air; free. "So, where are you taking me?" I ask.
"Well, I know the kidnapper is supposed to have all the sordid plans, but I only got as far as the stealing you part."
I laugh again and then lean down, catching her lips with mine. Because I didn't get the chance to do it before. Because I've been thinking about kissing her all day. I dart my tongue out to taste her, pressing it against her lips, and she parts them slightly.
I put my hands on her hips and pull her tightly against me. She slides her hands up my back and into my hair. I slip my tongue into her mouth and press it against hers before sweeping it through her mouth entirely. Glad she's finally letting me.
And then we both pull away, breathing heavily, and I smile down at her. "I've been thinking about doing that all day," I tell her and run my hand down her hair.
"I'm glad I could make the little fantasy come true," she says and I smile again.
I can't stop smiling when I'm around her. It's starting to hurt my face. "Can I take you to dinner?"
"Always the questions," she says. "You can take me wherever you want."
I feel my heart swell in my chest like a balloon. A really, really happy balloon filled with possibilities. And freedom. And something like comfort.
I drape my arm around her shoulders. "Alright. I know a place."
***
For the first time I honestly understand Edward's constant checking with me. I glance over at him as I lean against my grocery cart. He eyes a couple of pieces of produce he doesn't seem to recognize and I laugh.
"Are you sure you don't just want to head home? You don't need to stick around while I buy groceries. I promise I have this covered," I offer.
If I subscribed to stereotypes I would owe him some kind of fierce physical thank you for tonight. I didn't think Edward had it in him to find an amazing off the beaten path Mexican restaurant. Complete with a menu in Spanish, which Edward was able to translate. And I don't care who you are, that's sexy.
And how do I thank him? Drag him along to common errands.
"I think I should probably start figuring this whole market thing out," he sighs. He picks up an overly ripe peach and I take it from his hand and place it back down shaking my head. How does someone enter adulthood and not know how to pick out fruit.
"Yeah that might be a good investment. Lucky for you I am a fantastic teacher," I tease. I pick up a ripe peach and show him the difference; He squints at them like they're a Where's Waldo.
"Why's your peach better than mine?" he asks. I chew on my lip and resist the urge to make him take a bite of each. Screw it, I'll pay for the lesson. I hold up his choice up to his lips.
"Take a bite," I urge. He looks slightly shocked and looks around for someone who might stop this. I roll my eyes and laugh. He is always a little too worried about rules. I'll break him of that.
"I don't think I should…" He hesitates. This is going to be harder than I expected. I bring my peach to my lips and take a bite. There was no way I was going to take a bite of his choice. I'm sure that if the produce specialist saw his peach they would whisk it away to the trash. I chuckle when the juice spills over my chin. I lift my wrist to wipe away the juice and then hold his peach out to him once more.
I watch, almost entranced as he wraps his lips around the fruit still in my hand. His lips seal around the fruit and he pulls his bite into his mouth. Instantly his face screws up. He couldn't see the difference, but he obviously tastes it. He coughs and I point to a trashcan. He rids his mouth of the fruit and mildly glares at me.
"That was mean," he states. I laugh and offer the second peach to him. He shakes his head, burned by his first taste.
"I was proving a point. And you know this one is good. I picked it," I urge. I press it flush to his lips and his tongue darts out to taste the juice. He must like what he tastes because he takes me wrist in his hand and takes a large bite. The juice from his bite covers my fingers and I swallow hard. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be turned on by this.
All hell breaks loose in my mind as he then licks the juice off my hand. Ugh. All thought lost. All I can do is stare like an idiot.
"Much better," he smirks. Damn him. Did that on purpose. I glare light heartedly at him and yank my hand and the fruit from him. I place each piece in separate bags. No need for one to taint the other. I begin to push the cart away from him.
I should have made him go home. If that's what he can do to me when shopping for peaches I don't even want to see him in the bakery. I avoid the lesson for a while, simply plucking from the shelves what I need. Until I see that they've moved my favorite pita chips. I stand up on my tiptoes and reach, but my fingers barely graze the bottom. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth in a move of sheer determination and reach again.
I almost have them when he presses up behind me and easily plucks them off the shelf. I settle back down on my heels and find myself pressed against him. My body squirms involuntarily and he groans a little. This is not happening. Not in my local Whole Foods. I pull away quickly and toss the chips into my cart.
To avoid the obvious I begin rambling on about the difference between pasta noodles and the benefits of organic milk. He walks beside me nodding occasionally with a look of concentration on his face.
"Your face is far too serious for this. It's only groceries," I remind him. I steer the cart into him slightly and he jumps aside to avoid contact.
"I'm paying attention, Bella. This is my pay attention face," he informs me. I roll my eyes and grab a container of two bite brownies. I need an indulgence tonight.
"It looks a lot like your pencil neck face and that's not allowed when we're together," I instruct. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he chuckles and grabs a bag of tortilla chips and tosses them in the cart. He is getting the hang of this.
"Oh, sorry, are those ok?" he asks. I roll my eyes and push away from him. One thing he is going to have to learn is to stop asking me if everything is ok. What would he do if I said no? In fact….
"Nope. Awful choice, I cannot believe you even thought about disgracing my other food with that," I say deadpan. His face fights between two emotions and I wait for humor to fight through.
"Ha. Ha. I just don't want it to seem like…I don't know. Never mind," he sighs. And that maybe even worse than the original offense. He walks ahead of me and I push the cart up to walk beside him.
"No never minds allowed. What?" I ask. I nudge him gently but this time with my shoulder and not the cart. He seems not to mind that as much. He runs his hand through his hair and adjusts his glasses.
"Well, it's just like," he takes a break to sigh. "It's really not a big deal." I shake my head. The things he has to learn about me. I can't let things like that go. I am the biggest believer in honesty at all times. Even if it's meaningless honesty.
"Why don't you let me decide if it's a big deal," I press. He stops next to the cart and takes hold of the side.
"Well, God, I don't know. I guess I'm just not used to….rules," he finally spits out. Now it's my turn to be confused. Rules? Like what? Don't ask Bella for permission to breathe or buy tortilla chips? And lord, now he has me calling myself Bella.
"Rules?" I ask. I can't have him harboring something that bothers him. Heaven knows I am going to be open and up front if he ever pisses me off, he should get the same privilege.
I wait for his answer and don't care that we are standing between the pizza counter and the wine and probably blocking other healthy shoppers' paths. We're having our first moment as a…more than friends and it deserves a pause. He takes his eyes off the cart and looks up at me in…. is that a blush?
"Do we really have to talk about this?" he asks. The pleading tone in his voice almost convinces me to drop it, but it's too late. I am committed to this moment.
"Please?" I turn the eyes on him and wait. He swallows several times and takes a deep breath.
"Hannah sort of just decided everything?" he says quietly, unsurely. "I'm just used to asking I guess."
That's it. If I didn't hate Godzilla bitch before she is officially entered in my list of people to recommend to hell. I tighten my grip on the cart and sigh heavily. When I force my eyes to his again there is such hesitancy there it makes me sad. I reach out one hand and stroke his cheek.
"Well get used to making choices and sticking to them. I'm not going to tell your pansy ass what to do all the time, I don't have time for that," I tease. I'm hoping he hears more than the humor. I keep my hand on his face and rub my thumb over his lips. He smiles under my touch and I swear my weak heart skips a beat. I really am a 12 year old girl underneath it all.
"That's good. Because I really don't like bananas. I don't want to eat a banana ever again," he states. He says it with such conviction that I smile. I glance down at the bananas in my cart and remove them, placing them on a table of cookies.
"Sounds good to me. I wasn't that attached to them anyways," I reply. I move him in front of the cart and let him push, happy to twist my arm through his and let him pull me along.
"Maybe we should make some desert tonight," he says. I'm not sure why the simple use of the word 'we' is alternating between making my giddy and anxious. I nod against his shoulder and feel him shift the cart. If there's one thing this man has it's a good memory.
"Like, real brownies, not those premade ones. With ice cream," he adds. I smile at his enthusiasm.
"I hope you mean the kind in a box because while I am amazing at so many things, I haven't mastered homemade brownies," I admit. He chuckles and pulls two boxes of mix from the shelf. I eye both boxes and look back up at him.
"I like eating the batter."
That's it. No asking if that's ok. I sigh in relief and latch myself back onto him as he pushes us towards the check out.
There's an ease in being with him like this, like I almost can't remember when he didn't come shopping with me. Like he just slides into my life without having to shove or cut pieces off. It makes me hope that this is going to be fine, better than fine. Fucking fantastic.
***
We didn't put all of the groceries away. Only the things that needed to be refrigerated. I was too excited about the brownies.
And now Bella's hogging the mixing bowl in her cute little yoga pants. She has her arm wrapped around it protectively. I step closer to her, slowly, step by step, until I'm pressed against her side. I reach for it but she slaps at my hand.
I huff. "You're being a bowl hog," I tell her and stick my lower lip out. "I just want a tiny taste."
She looks at me and lifts an eyebrow. "Tiny taste? Is that all?"
I nod. "Just one," I say and inch closer to her.
She shakes her head at me and continues stirring the batter. I like this. This whole standing around in the kitchen making brownies and teasing each other thing.
"Come on, Bella," I say and lean in until I'm breathing in a combination of Bella and chocolate. Shit. Chocolate's supposed to be an aphrodisiac, right? At this rate, I'm not gonna be able to get my dick down until next week.
And then she looks at me and gives me this sexy little smirk before she dips her finger into the bowl. Uh-oh. She swirls it around, eyes still on me, smirk still fixed on her face.
"Just one, Edward," she says, and then holds her finger out to me.
And oh my mother fucking god.
I lean in until her finger is right at my lips and nod. "Just one little taste," I say and then take her finger in my mouth, sucking the chocolate off.
She stares at my mouth through heavy-lidded eyes and swallow. I suck the remainder of the chocolate off but don't release her finger. Instead, I close my teeth over it and bite down—not hard, but hard enough.
She gasps and I grin at her with her finger still between my teeth.
And then I release her and growl lowly. "That was…" I clear my throat. How the fuck am I gonna adjust my pants discretely? "That was delicious."
She just stares at me for a minute—eyes flitting between my eyes and my mouth—before she turns back to the batter. "Of course it was," she says finally.
I wrap my arms around her waist from behind and pull her flush against me. Fuck discretion. She should know how she makes me feel.
I dip my head down until my lips are right by her ear and say, "I really don't think one's gonna be enough."
She laughs. "Too bad you said 'just one' then, huh? Should've thought that out."
I pull her hair away from her neck and press my lips to the warm skin there. She breathes in sharply as I start trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck. "Somebody said," I whisper in between kisses, "that if I want something," her hand stills and she just grips the bowl, "I don't have to ask for it."
She doesn't say anything so I just switch to the other side of her neck and continue my assault. And then I put my hand on top of hers and guide it to the inside of the bowl. I cover her fingers with mine, curling all but the middle one, and then I dip it into the chocolate.
Then I pull her hand up again and take her finger into my mouth. I suck the batter off again, swirling my tongue around her finger, wishing I was swirling it around something else.
"That really is good," I say finally and then turn her around so that her body is pressed between the counter and me.
She takes a few deep breaths and then reaches for my hand. "Lemme try," she says and I let her do the same thing to my finger. She swirls it around in the chocolate and then brings it to her lips. And fuck me. Her eyes, big and wide, stay on my face as she sucks on my finger.
And then she releases me. "Yeah, I can see why you like that," she says and smirks before she twists out of my grasp.
I watch her walk to the cabinet for a pan and beat down the urge to push her up against the fridge. Deep breaths. She pours the batter onto the pan and then slides it into the oven. And I realize that I could sit and watch her do menial, mundane things for extended periods of time and not have a problem with it.
She sets the timer on the oven and then looks at me. "Thirty minutes. What are we going to do now?" she asks.
"I can think of a couple of things," I say and all of them have everything to do with forgetting the brownies and the timer entirely.
"No board games allowed," she says and leans into the fridge. Eyes up, Edward, eyes up. Then again, there's nothing wrong with appreciating the view if she doesn't know about it. She clears her throat and I look up and she's smirking at me. Caught, of course.
She holds up a beer with questions on her face. "Yeah, thanks," I say and take it from her.
"Let's go sit inside," she says and I follow her into the living room.
I sit down on the couch and she turns the TV on. I watch her as she peels her little sweater off, revealing a plain white tank top and lots of skin. I swallow hard as she comes and sits down next to me. I try to focus on the television but I can't pay attention to anything with her thigh pressed against mine.
I put my arm around her shoulders, liking that I can, and pull her into my chest. And then she turns into me and drapes an arm across my stomach and starts drawing shapes into my side.
"ESPN," I tell her.
"Predictable," she mutters.
I go to tell her that we can watch something else, but she'll probably yell at me again. And I don't want to get into anymore embarrassing details about what a spineless bitch I was when I was with Hannah.
I slide my hand from her shoulder to her neck and let my fingers slide up, tangling them in her hair as my thumb brushes back and forth on her neck. I want to kiss her again. Over and over again.
So I lean forward and cover her mouth with mine. I spread my palms on her back and pull her close to me. Her hands come up and curl over my shoulders.
I slide my tongue into her mouth and she tastes like beer and chocolate and Bella sweet. She sighs into my mouth and parts her lips wider, sucking my tongue inside as she leans in to the kiss. Her hands clutch at my back, twisting the fabric of my shirt, and the hungry little sounds she's making in the back of her throat are driving me fucking crazy.
I cup my hand around the back of her head, holding her in place as my mouth moves greedily over hers. I can't get enough. Our tongues tangle and now I'm trying to remember if I've ever gotten hard from just a kiss before. I don't think so.
I slide my free hand down the front of her shirt and close it over her breast. I can feel her nipple against my palm, through her shirt and her bra, and I taste her shocked gasp when I pinch it gently through the fabric. Her gasp turns into a whimper as I tease it, until her back is arching away from the couch and closer to me.
I slide my lips away from her mouth, across her jaw, and down the length of her neck. Her skin is sweet and salty and then smell of the coconuts is taking over my brain. I don't have a brain anymore.
I trail my hand down one side of her waist and catch the hem of her shirt on the way back up. I hear something rip as I tug her shirt up. I should slow down. Fuck. But sometime between the peaches and the chocolate and right this second, all of my self-control has disappeared.
And now, in the place of my self-control is a lust-crazed, out-of-control hedonist who just wants to rip her clothes off and shove my dick in her as deep as I can. I tug her shirt up over her head and fling it somewhere over the back of the couch.
I pause for a moment to enjoy the view. And, honestly, considering my huge lack of a satisfying sex life for the past few years, I'm surprised I don't just cum in my pants at the sight of her. Bella's leaning back against the cushions of the couch in her tight little yoga pants, and nothing on top but a black bra that barely covers her skin.
I stare up into her eyes as I tug the cups down and cover her left breast in my hand. I exhale on a groan as I bend down for a taste, meaning to tease her with my tongue, but instead I lose all technique and finesse and just suck her hard into my mouth. Her fingers twist in my hair, and the little shock of pain is enough to make my dick harden another inch.
I push her back onto the couch and use my knees to spread her legs, and even through her pants I can feel her heat as my stomach presses into the spot between her thighs. I suck greedily on her right breast while my hand plays with the other, stroking the smooth skin, pinching her tight nipple in my fingers.
Her breath is coming in short, hot pants, and she lifts her hips to grind against me. I align my hips with hers and begin a slow, circling counter rhythm. I close my eyes, savoring the taste and feel of her nipples against my tongue, the sound of her breathy gasps as I rub my dick against her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her legs tremble slightly against mine, and her fingers grip my ass pulling me closer.
God, she is so hot.
And then a shrill beep cuts through the sounds of heavy breathing and smacking lips.
"The brownies," she says and scrambles off of the couch. I watch as she picks her discarded tank top up off the floor and throws it on over her head as she runs into the kitchen.
I collapse on the floor and cover my face with my arms. "Fuck the brownies," I grumble.