Blister in the Sun Part 7
For PTB's Smut University 2014
This week's lesson was canceled, but since I already had each of my chapters outlined, I figured I'd write it anyway with no prompt.
Note: SmutU is over and so is the summer, but I'm still making my way through this. Sorry for the delay. This move hasn't been too easy, but no worries. I have plenty of beaches to inspire me ;) Also, please excuse the rough. Its been a while.
No one knows. Looking at us. Mingling amongst all of our friends. Even against the harsh sun where not even a freckle can hide, they don't notice how his fingers linger against my own, the icy cool of the beer bottle steaming away as he passes it from his hand to mine.
That same hand that tears my clothes from my body, holds my hips just high enough, grips me right so that I scream my pleasure into the wood floor. He likes that. When he drives me wild enough I can't hold in my moans. It makes him thrust quicker, slam harder, breathe faster until he can't help himself from pulling out just in enough time to spill his release all over me. Tissues became our best friend in that tree house.
"It's just Edward and Bella," they say when he throws me into the ocean, holding on just a breath longer that what is considered friendly, watching as his touch skims from my waist to right below where his lips make me tingle at night in our green haven. "They've been best friend for like ever."
No one knows. How when he slings his arm around my shoulders, warming my wet skin against the cool ocean breeze, that he holds me just the tiniest bit closer so that the heat radiating from his body almost matches the bonfire recklessly lit at night. That's how it is between us. When he holds me close, our skin slick to the touch, as he slides where it feels so good.
"So hot," he groans into my mouth. "Always so hot."
"It's the wind," I say, shivering only just slightly as his palm rubs against my prickling flesh, burrowing deeper into the nook of his body, mindful of all the smiling faces of our friends around us. "It's giving me goose bumps."
No one knows. Except him. I think he always knew. Those large brown eyes, now turned bitter by so much heartache, follows our dance across the sand. Of how we tease and laugh and pretend to joke about kissing and touching and fucking, smiling secret smiles because we know just how real the kisses and touches and fucks are. He knows—though I guess he can't really be sure unless he hides in the bushes—that we climb that tree between our houses and fumble our way through clothes and low moans. He's always known my that well.
"Bella…"
I can't help the surprise I'm sure that shows on my face. He hasn't talked to me since that night where I said someone else's name while his fingers were buried so deep inside of me. "Jake. What's up?"
"How are you?"
I know that isn't what he really wants to say. I can see the burn in his eyes. "Fine and you?"
He shuffles his feet in the sand, kicking it around him and onto my towel. I don't think he notices, but I don't say anything. Not like I would have before because he knows how much I hate how the sand gets everywhere. It's crazy. Me. Hating sand. A girl who grew up on the beach. But I can't. Not with him and his intensity invading my space.
"So you and Edward, huh?"
I hope I look confused. I don't think I pull it off. "What do you mean?"
"You don't need to pretend around me. You have that look. That sparkle in your eyes."
I don't know what to say, but it doesn't seem right to just say nothing. "I'm sorry."
He laughs, turning heads, and maybe the others see him talking to me, how his body leans in close, how his hands reach for mine, his thumbs rubbing against my palm, and maybe they think we'll get back together.
"You and Jake were so cute together," Angela had told me. "We were all surprised when you broke up." If only they knew how my heart belonged to another.
I step away, pretending to trip, forcing him to let go, but he knows. He always knows. The smile dies from his face as fast as it was put there. "What are you sorry for?"
"Jake…"
"You've got what you wanted. To fuck your best friend."
"Please, Jake," I plead, stepping forward. This time he retreats from me. "Don't do this."
He chews on the inside of his cheek as he stares down at my trembling hands, and when he spits, it's poison. "You know he's not over Alice, right?" So casual. Like it's so true. Like I'd be stupid for believing anything else. Maybe I am.
When he walks away, his hands stuffed in his shorts pocket, that's when I see him. His green eyes flashing with the waves rolling around his knees. He stares as if he's digging holes. As if he wants to probe deep for all the answers to douse the curiosity and fury. I drop my gaze to the chipped pink on my toes because I can't take it. Not when he judges me. Not him. When I look up again, he's staring at her where she sits so casually next to Jasper on the shore, and I can only wonder about what Jake said.
That night when I climb the ladder he's already there, his elbows hanging out the window that used to be too big and is now too small. "Hey," I say, sinking to the floor, my back against the wall, feeling almost as awkward as that second night, where we tiptoed into the tree, terrified of what the other would say after I swallowed him so deep, but unable to resist the temptation for more.
"Hey." He sounds almost wispy, like he's talking wind.
"You okay?"
"Yeah…"
"Eddie…" He quirks his head so I know he's listening. "Tell me."
"It's nothing."
"Don't lie."
"I'm just thinking is all."
"You can talk to me. You know this. Just because we…" I blush and I can't really believe that I actually am.
But his words wipe that pink right off my cheeks. "Just because we're fuck buddies doesn't mean you're not my best friend anymore?"
It's a fact, so I don't know why it hurts so much. Maybe it's acid in his voice. Maybe it's all of the above. "Exactly."
He sighs, his shoulders sagging, almost as if he's giving up. "It's nothing, Bella."
When he turns, the moon lights up his eyes, and even in their sadness, they're beautiful. "Edward…"
"Kiss me?"
I shake my head. "Edward…"
"Kiss me, Bell."
I don't know what it is about that name. But every time he says it, I melt. Pathetic, I know, but I can't help it. So I let him kiss me. Even when I see the tears glittering in the moonlight. When he pulls away, I think he'll take me. Like he always does. But he doesn't. He hides his eyes against my neck, his breath drifting across my tender skin.
"Are you and Jake back together?"
"What?" I try to jerk away but he holds on tight.
"That's what they were all saying down at the beach today."
"Would I be here if that were true?"
He's silent for just a moment and it about rips my heart apart. "I don't know."
"Is that what you really think of me?"
He shakes his head, and I pretend I don't feel the wetness dripping down my collarbone. "I don't know what to think anymore."
"Jake and I aren't back together and we won't ever get back together."
"Okay…"
"Edward…tell me."
At first I think he won't, but then—because he knows he has no one else to talk to—he says, "Alice texted me."
I hold my breath until my words all come tumbling out at once. "What did she say?"
"She wants to work things out."
"She's still fucking Jasper." I hate it when he flinches, but I hate myself even more for saying those words. I knew it would hurt him, but part of me, that darker side everyone has, can't regret saying anything that would keep him from going back to her.
"I know."
"You do?"
"I saw them together when I was driving. They were parked in his car…not talking."
I hug him then, holding his trembling form against me, whispering into his ear, "I'm sorry, Eddie." Trying to erase whatever naked skin, whatever hurried moves, whatever muffled moans he remembers.
"I don't know what to do."
I don't want to know. I can't want to know. Because his answer could kill me. But I ask it anyway because I think I need to know. "Do you want to get back together with her?"
"Yes. No! I don't fucking know, Bell."
I rub his back when his grip on me tightens as if he's afraid I'll let him go. I hate how I like it, how it turns me on because that's how he holds me just before he's ready to come, when right now he needs a best friend more than a fuck buddy.
"Kiss me, Bell." I shake my head, but he persists. "Kiss me, Bell."
"Eddie…wait."
"Please."
So I do because I don't think I can ever say no to him. He kisses me like he's lost. Like he's searching for something. Like he can't find whatever it is. And when he pulls away, his eyes glazed with that all too familiar lust, I see it. The sparkle. How it lights up his eyes, and I can only imagine this is how I look to Jake. Now I know what my ex feels like. To watch that glitter for another in the only one who will ever own your whole heart.
Because I know that sparkle isn't for me. It's for her. So I push him hard, ignoring his needy hands grabbing at my skin and the thin straps of my tank. I don't even feel it when one of them snaps or how his hands dip below to grab where I pucker for him. I run before I have to tell him no because I don't think I can, climbing down that ladder and across the sand, feeling his burning gaze all the way into my house.