Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight...we merely play and screw shit up in their perfect little world. We do own the blue plot bunny who likes sparkling carrots named Alsper.
Chocolatebrowneyes/Kermit (Robs/Rich Bitch): Thanks everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are so great, you have no fucking clue. So we shall continue this little story of ours. So you know we're review whores. We squee in delight over every single one we get. Hope you like this chapter!
Calin(Kristin/Jasper): This is all to Miss Robs who kicked my ass to over gchat to make sure Chapter 4 (which is with out Fuckawesome beta Kel who is currently under the weather… feel better soon bb!) was done on time *snort*. BIG THANK YOU TO THE LADIES AT THE OFFICE!!! seriously without the brilliance of Dawn and Christina's stories I doubt they would have tried the headboard last chapter. And Big THANK YOU to eddiescherry for making our awesome icon!
And we would like to thank our super fantabulous DOOMMOTHERFUCKERDONE beta Kelci. Get well soon, BB.
Playlist suggestions: AC/DC –Shook me all night long; Beyonce – If I were a Boy; 30 seconds to mars – The kill (preferably the acoustic version to get the overall effect… youtube it now!!!!! ~Kristin)
Chapter 3. Thanks for the Hickies…Er….Memories.
I think the alcohol was still in my system, or that the mind numbing headache I had seemed to keep the pain that was radiating from my body away. The minute my headache was finally gone, which was about ten-ish in the morning, my entire body started to ache. Hoping a nice hot bath would help, I stripped myself of my clothing and put it into the hamper, assessing the rest of the damage on my body.
Under the bright lights of the bathroom my body looked like I had just gotten beat up. The hickies on my neck, jaw, collarbone and shoulders were now joined by a whole host of them on my chest and breasts. Finger like bruises raked my skin, starting on my waist. I had a whole hand print on one of my thighs. Holy shit, I thought. I turned to look at my back, it wasn't as bad a few hickies and a welt on my ass that was just starting to sting.
As I got into the warm bath my groin stung painfully when I lifted my leg to get in. I sucked in a breath through my teeth to try to just deal with the pain, if my bruises were any evidence, apparently the guy had put my poor body through a battering. I tried to relax and press my legs together, but my inner thighs seemed to protest. Painfully. I almost screamed out.
As the hang over wore off the pain in my crotch got worse, I couldn't even walk properly after my bath. Forget panties. Those bad boys where coming nowhere near my now raw vajayjay.
I threw on a pair of super soft blue sweatpants and a white tank, hoping that somehow I could make sure I wouldn't chafe or anything. Thank God I was in such good shape, eight years of yoga and two miles a day of running all prepping me for what was probably the best sex of my life that I wouldn't even remember with a complete ass. Fan-fucking-tabulous.
I walked out of my room to our kitchen to get some water and fruit, thanking God that Edward had somehow out of the goodness of his heart gave me the master on the first floor. Edward laughed when he saw me and I flipped him the bird.
"Ali, what the hell? You look like you just learned how to ride a horse." He laughed some more, taking off his suit jacket and placing it on the back of the barstool. I leaned against the island to try to take some of the pressure off my legs.
"Fuck off Double D. Seriously, I don't even fucking remember what happened. I look like hell and the pain just keeps getting worse." He grimaced at me.
"I was thinking no more open mic nights till that clears up ok? We don't need them to think you're a bar whore or something." I nodded my agreement, sucking in my bottom lip and chewing on it in my mouth. I grabbed an apple from the bowl on the countertop.
"I don't think I can go to class today." Edward just smirked at me.
"So who was he?" He asked, a half smile playing on his face. I shrugged opening my bottle of water and took a swig.
"That jackass who spilled shit on my shoes, you know, the one who played Wasteland on his guitar." Edward's eyes narrowed at that. I knew he really didn't appreciate the guy calling me a rich bitch because, in essence, he was calling Edward that as well. Fuck, we both worked hard to get where we were. Edward was just better at money than I was so he managed mine for me and gave me an allowance. We were definitely not trust fund babies, although Jasper definitely implied that we were.
I modeled as a teen for print ads, I may not be tall, but I was the right build and I knew I was pretty, having long dark brown hair with green eyes. I looked exotic, but I was just a fucking mutt. Italian and Irish.
Edward worked his ass of in high school to get scholarships, went to college, and immediately got into a really good firm where his 'tenacious attitude and enterprising spirit' helped him rise to the top. He worked his ass off and now he was the youngest vice president of the company he worked for. Jasper saying that I was a rich bitch was like a slap in both our faces.
I walked to my room and laid down, curling up in my blue satin sheets and white comforter. I watched TV and took dinner in my room, emailing my professor to ask if I could do the work at home since I was "sick". I never got sick. Nor had I ever been late or absent so she agreed, passing on her thoughts that I got well soon.
I had the same routine for the next few days, skipping Sunday night dinner with the folks because I really didn't want to show up in the condition I was in. I emailed all my professors and said I was ill. Since I was a good student they agreed to let me have the course work to do it at home and make up a test I missed.
If I had hated Jasper for the lack of concern over my shoes when he spilled his drink on them, I definitely hated him now. Fucking A. I hadn't even been able to run in four days and my neck still looked trashed. Next time I see that sorry son of a bitch I am so slapping him.
As the pain wore off I was able to quell my hatred a little, I could now exercise and go back to classes. Thankfully because it was barely March, I could still wear turtlenecks without looking like I was trying to cover anything up. My brother didn't want take me to anymore open mike nights until the hickies had gone away completely. He said sex sells and hickies were not sexy. I agreed with him.
A week and a half after the one night stand I was sitting on the porch off my bedroom looking down eight stories below me, wondering if he remembered the night at all. If he was as drunk as I had been, I couldn't really be mad at him for it. I could still be mad about the shoes and the hypocritical actions, but not the bruising or the hickies. Maybe he just couldn't help himself.
I closed my eyes feeling the brisk March air against my face, "You know what I want to do to you?" His voice breathed in my memory, I could see the dark green sheets bunched un in front of me as he stood behind me, his manhood pressing against my very naked ass. No, I thought, what do you want to do to me? "I wanna fuck your ass to sleep." he growled, and I could feel the stomach tightening, and the wetness in my core flooded. My eyes snapped open. Fuck that was hot! Did that really happen? I didn't think my imagination was that good.
That's when I started hearing his voice when I closed my eyes. It was so raw, the accent ever present, so in the moment. I usually only heard four other things in addition to what I had heard on my porch, "Are you tired yet baby?" in a cooing, almost loving voice, "Want a ride, darlin'?" the accent thick and playful, and of course, the ones that echoed in my head the most, "Say my name when you come baby." and "Jasper." In a panting whisper. His eyes, if I thought they haunted me before, now they were ever present in my dreams. I couldn't even masturbate properly without him in the forefront of my brain. Once I just let myself give into it and had such a powerful orgasm that I thought I might include him in all my adventures with myself. I smirked at the thought.
Those eyes, the slight smile, the voice. The most interesting thing is how drawn to him I felt. Even though he was no where to be found, I was still wondering about him. I have had boyfriends before, I've even had sex with one, but I was never this preoccupied with them. It was driving me crazy. I really wanted to see him again if anything just to see if that draw was as strong in person as it was it my head.
Two weeks later I was finally healed up. My brother signed me up for the open mic night at the bar where I had met Jasper, and after putting on a cute cap sleeved black dress that hit mid thigh we were off. The bouncer let us in of course, but he seemed to look at me knowingly. Like he knew that me and the guy he shoved me in the taxi with had hooked up. I tried to push the thought out of my head and returned his beautiful dimpled smile with one of my own.
We sat at our pub style table, me needing help from my brother to get up to the table. I ordered a strawberry daiquiri, while Edward ordered a scotch on the rocks. He spoke to me a minute before the bouncer came up and shook hands with my brother, talking about something or another dealing with some sports game I could really give a fuck less about. Ed got my attention as he introduced me to Emmett, who grinned and kissed the back of my hand like a gentleman. He bade my brother farewell and walked to the bar, apparently it was his break and he was mingling.
The loudspeaker announced to the crowd that Jasper Hale was going to do a set and the majority of the girls in the bar squealed. I turned to look at the stage, that name wasn't very popular was it? I kicked myself for caring so much. Then I saw him walking up holding a guitar. In dark jeans, a unbuttoned dark blue dress shirt, with an AC/DC shirt showing from underneath. If that wasn't enough to make me weak in the knees, he had topped it off with a fedora. It was like he knew exactly what I liked and wore it.
My stomach clenched as he spoke, only the faintest trace of an accent, but still strong, powerful and in control. Very different from my memories, but somehow very much the same.
"Thanks Paul, but you know it's Whitlock." Then I swear he seemed to sweep the room as if looking for some one as he sat. Once he locked eyes with me, he smirked. He remembered me. Well it was possible that he just remembered me as the girl he spilled his drink on. I wasn't sure that he actually remembered our little sexcapade, and if he did he wouldn't be all public about it, would he?
He broke eye contact with me a little as he shifted in his seat, then spoke into the mike. "This is for a certain lady." The rift started and he locked eyes with me as he sang an AC/DC song I was very familiar with.
She was a fast machine, She kept her motor clean, She was the best damn woman that I ever seen,
I tilted my head towards him, he couldn't mean me, could he? He continued staring into my eyes while smirking slightly.
Taking more than her share,
Had me fighting for air,
She told me to come, but I was already there,
'Cause the walls started shaking,
The earth was quaking,
My mind was achin',
And we were makin' it and you,
His eyes were boring into mine with such intensity that I realized that not only did he remember everything, he fucking enjoyed it all. Bastard, there was no way he was as fucked up as me. And he was fucking singing about it! God knows how many fucking times the pompous asshole had sung about it. I was half tempted to throw my drink at him. Those thoughts of slapping him were coming back. Trumping the waves of desire I felt as he eyefucked me while singing to me. I was not going to look away and show weakness. Fuck no, I was not weak.
He let go of my eyes at the end of the song and I turned and looked into my drink, my jaw clenched. Edward caught my attention long enough to tell me he was going to go dance with some brunette girl he had just seen. I rolled my eyes, if anyone had a type it was my brother.
I tensed even more when I felt someone's breath on my neck. That god damned bastard whispered, "Good luck on your set tonight beautiful." and kissed my fucking ear. What the fuck? I turned on him and he look slightly taken aback at my stance.
I was pissed and I am sure every bit of my anger was showing on my face, "What the fuck was that?" I death whispered and my eyes narrowed at him.
Still looking completely confused he asked, "What the fuck was what?" I glared and took a breath through my nose trying desperately not to break his pretty fucking nose here and now.
"The song. The kiss." I grinded my teeth. "And don't fucking beautiful me either, fucker." my voice rose, "My fucking God, I am not one of your fucking hoes. Although the other fucking night you certainly treated me like one." My hands balled into fists and I could feel my ears grow hot.
He stepped closer to me I could smell him again. His eyes boring into mine, "Wait just a God damned minute Alice; that song happens to be a classic AC/DC song that also happened to make me think of you and our night together." I gritted my teeth. He was being none too quiet and I could feel my knuckles growing white. He wasn't done, "I don't know who the fuck you think I am, but I don't just take home bar strays." Did he just fucking call me a bar stray? As much as I hate to admit it, that hurt, it stabbed me right in the place his voice usually made clench. I could feel tears sting my eyes. "I was merely complementing you by calling you beautiful. Not my fault you're so clouded by some fucking high and mighty-" he waved his arms around me, I suppose he's making fun of me, his voice rising even more. I am sure we were causing quite the scene. "-rich girl thing that you cant recognize when some one is merely being nice. Where the fuck-" His voice got deathly quiet and his accent came out a little bit, making my insides quiver, he was now an inch from my face, "-do you get off? You're the one that left like some common whore."
Oh fuck no he did not! My jaw clenched and my teeth ground together and almost on reflex my hand collided with his face, and smacked him. Hard. The entire bar got quiet as he fell back a little. I got up and left. Feeling the tears slide down my face as I did.
Everyone had returned to their talking as I sat down at the bar when a tall Native American man approached me, his dark eyes twinkling.
"Hey pretty lady, I respect anyone who can knock a man a foot taller than them back with a slap. What'll you be havin? First drink is on the house." I looked at him and shrugged. I needed something strong. My friends in college were much better drinkers than I. What did they talk about? Patron and Jamison? Jamison didn't sound so bad, I thought. I smiled a little at the man.
"Jamison, please." His face slackened a little, but then he went and got a shot glass and poured some of the clear alcohol in. I tipped it back, feeling the burn as the liquid ran down my throat. I turned and scanned the room, trying to see if I had sent him with his tail between his legs. I guess I hadn't, the bastard was hugging the same brunette that my brother had hit on earlier and some blond bimbo in a dress way too tight was pressing ice on his face. Fuck him. Fucking dickhead, you run to your hoes, bitch. Now if I could just get his damn voice out of my head I would be straight.
I pulled my Visa out of my purse and laid it on the bar asking for another shot, then another. Ed made his way over to me and informed me that I was up next. I was going to sing some sexy, pop song. I was totally not feeling that shit, for one not feeling particularly 'poppy' today and for another I definitely didn't feel sexy. Hypocrite over there with Barbie in red is probably making fun of me and to sing that shit right in front of his table would just make me throw up. My stomach was turning enough as it was.
I walked back and asked if I could change the song. It had to be on the same CD since it was the only one my brother handed them. I told them it was alright, I would just cover "If I Were a Boy", it was fitting how I felt at the moment. Fucker could sleep around with whomever, whenever, yet I was the whore. Fuck it.
I stepped onstage and got a few catcalls, I tuned them out. I closed my eyes, "You tired yet, baby?" echoed through my head and a tear escaped. I looked towards the mike, placing my mouth over it and wrapping a shaky hand around the base. I started to sing and was followed by the slow tune. I looked briefly through my lashes towards his table. The blond looked at me, interested and the brunette, confused. Jasper watched me with his eyebrows drawn together. I let my eyes flicker away and saw Edward standing at the base of the stage glaring at me, his arms crossed across his chest. I knew he was pissed I wasn't singing the song he picked, but I wasn't feeling it so he could just shove it up his ass. I flipped him off to which his mouth dropped. That was very out of character for me, but at least he knew not to fuck with me right now.
I looked towards Jasper to see that his eyes were still trained on me. The expression was unreadable for me. We locked eyes as I sang,
"But you're just a boy
You don't understand
And you don't understand, oh"
I broke eye contact because I was about to cry and continued to sing. When the music started to end I looked up at him again, I maintained eye contact this time as I finished,
"You don't care how it hurts
Until you lose the one you wanted
'Cause you're taking her for granted
And everything you had got destroyed
But you're just a boy"
The song ended with me feeling particularly pissed because I let myself get so venerable over a really stupid hypocritical, superficial bastard. I knocked the mike forwards and walked offstage determined not to look at him or see him ever again.
I made my way back to the bar and was greeted again by the Native American man. He held his hand out to shake mine. I took it.
"My name is Jake. You have a great voice there, little lady." I smiled in return, taking my hand back. He smiled slightly at me, as if trying to gauge me for something. "Whoever he is, he isn't worth the heartache," I looked at him, and he continued, "no one is worth that much pain. I used to date Bella Swan," he pointed towards the brunette that was with Jasper, "but we were looking for two different things. We stayed together for a long time because we thought we were in love, but as it turns out we weren't and look, we're friends now." He shrugged. I nodded accepting his advice.
"Um… can I have another drink?" I asked, unsure. He grinned and nodded, taking my card to swipe it as I ordered a frozen mudslide. He brought me back my drink and I started to suck it through the straw, it tasted delicious and made the pain I was feeling in the back of my throat go away.
The announcer's voice drifted over to me again a little while later, "Hey we have a special treat for you guys tonight. Jasper has decided to play another song for you." The girls in the bar nearly killed my eardrums with their screams of delight. The guy was such a whore. I wouldn't turn around. Hell no, I wouldn't watch him anymore. Then I heard him start singing in accompaniment with a violin. What was he doing? I wondered, completely curious.
Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you
What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?
The alcohol must have dimmed my senses a little because I was trying my hardest to not care. Curious was in the realm of caring that I didn't want to enter. My mind fought against my body, but nevertheless I turned around. Looking at him on stage was almost sad. He looked away from me not making eye contact. Stupid fucking boy. Probably singing to one of his hoes. His accent came out and I could feel my stomach clench in spite of me. Fuck, not what I was hoping to do. Then he locked eyes with me, they were full of confusion. I didn't understand why, and I really shouldn't give a flying fuck, but I did.
I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really am inside
Finally found myself
Fighting for a chance
I know now, this is who I really am
He got up and walked towards the pretty girl with the violin before turning and walking out the front door. I hope he didn't plan on me following.
But follow I did. I left my drink and grabbed my purse and like some love sick puppy I fucking followed him. Be damned my fucking caring ways. I didn't want to care, why the fuck do I?
