Author's Note: Thanks to betas jkane180 and mac214. Guest pre-reader is Mr. Sue- er, cryptthing (husband of roselover24) and I'm super-excited to have DoUTrustMe pre-reading too. Chapter dedication goes to teamedwardalways for always being so bloody enthusiastic in her reviews. Mwah!
Facebook Status: Oedipussy - say it aloud.
"Rorshark?" Dr. Banner was waving menstrual blotches on large cue cards in front of my incredulous face. "Wasn't he a Sweathog from Welcome Back, Kotter?"
"Uh, no. That was Horshack, although I'm impressed with your knowledge of late seventies sitcoms."
"Gabe Kaplan makes me horny," I joked, and the bastard had the gall to write a note in his pad. "Omigod, what the fuck did you just write?"
"That you have bad taste in men," he deadpanned. "The obvious choice would've been John Travolta."
"I'm nothing if not unpredictable."
Dr. Banner set down his pad and picked up another blot. "What does this picture look like to you?"
"An ink jism."
"Jism?" The doctor's eyebrows knitted.
"You know, come but with a 'U'... or the nectar of the wank?"
"This picture looks like ejaculate?"
"Ew! No need to be vulgar." I squinted as if deep in thought. "It looks like a squid going down on a chipmunk. That's actually my honest answer."
"Sorry, Bella... I was looking for a squid going down on a shoe. Don't feel bad; you were half right."
"Jeez, you're a sick motherfucker, aren't you?"
"Bella... can we just cut the bullshit? Will you save us both weeks of pointless sessions and get down to brass tacks?"
"I find your tactics rudimentary at best. Where exactly did you attend grad school?"
"Isabella-"
"Bella!" I corrected quickly. "I refuse to submit to this torture. Sometimes a blob of ink is just a blob of ink. I'd prefer a Freudian methodology."
"Alright." Dr. Banner sighed and put the offending pictures face down on his faux mahogany desk. "Should we discuss oral fixations then?"
A surprised giggle snorted out of my nose. "Ew. No."
"Oedipal complexes?"
Every muscle in my body suddenly ached with tension. I ground my teeth together and shook off the cold, creeping terror threatening to engulf me.
"Sorry - never read that play."
Dr. Banner smiled patiently. "Most people haven't, Bella, but certainly you know what an Oedipal-"
"It's all Greek to me," I said quickly.
"Interesting. You use humour to deflect." He inexplicably handed me a copy of The Oresteia. "Read 'The Libation Bearers' and learn about Electra."
"Um, you just happened to have that in your desk?"
"I keep it on hand for patients who demand Freudian therapy." He winked. "Joking aside, I couldn't help but notice a change in your demeanour just now."
"You're full of shit. Nothing's changed." Except my hands were totally shaking, my fingers vibrating like the wings of a hummingbird... or possibly a poorly endowed dildo.
"Bella... do you have daddy issues?"
I nearly fell off my chair. Tears burned the wells of my eyes, but I wouldn't permit them to spill over.
"I think we're out of time."
"Bella?"
"Fuck you!"
"Same time next week?"
I was about to hurl another expletive, but to my surprise, Dr. Banner was grinning.
-({})-
Edward wasn't waiting for me outside, and I was almost relieved. I couldn't do this... I couldn't handle him. He was too perfect; my self-esteem couldn't take being next to perfection and wanting, wanting, always wanting.
It's better that I don't see him, I consoled myself as my stomach bottomed out with bitter disappointment. Crouching down on the curb outside the medical centre, I noticed an insistent buzzing in my pocket.
Text message from E.A. Cullen - How was your session? Wait for me outside, k?
Shit, shit, shit! He was totally coming! Oh, wow, now I was picturing him coming. Seriously, was I some sort of sexual predator?
I closed my eyes and imagined what his cock would look like, all smooth and big and hot. I imagined dragging my tongue along his shaft and swirling it around the head of his dick.
Maybe I needed to imagine a nice cold shower.
I fiddled with my phone again and realized there were also several emails from Jake. I should probably call him. Shit, what was I going to say? 'Hey, I'm going out with this guy tonight, so don't wait up' seemed kind of callous.
Instead, I sent a text to Charlie to let him know I was going out with a friend, and then checked my Tweetdeck to see what was going on with my friends from back home. It was lame, but I missed them. I missed the predictability and even the sheer tedium of my old routines. Now I was a mess of jittery energy like an exposed, raw nerve - a live wire with nothing to ground me. What had grounded me before? Complacency, maybe? The knowledge that nothing in my life was going to get any better, so I might as well play the shitty hand dealt to me?
Renee had no fucking clue. How could she not know what was going on under her own roof? I mean, my bluff was good, but it shouldn't have been that good.
Did she really not know, or were the stakes just too high?
Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck. Edward was going to be here any second, and my mind was decidedly in a bad place.
Why was I waiting for him, the boy with the silver fucking Volvo? Jake was the safe bet. Why was I testing my shitty luck?
I should've known better.
Edward was totally going to gut me.
I totally didn't care.
His car squealed its way into the parking lot, leaving tire marks in its wake, and the passenger door swung open as if by its own accord. I mean, the car hadn't even come to a complete stop yet.
"Hey, beautiful." He smiled, his face lighting up as if he was just as eager to see me as I was to see him.
Oh, fuck... I was a dead woman.
"Hi," I said, trying to step into his car without breaking my neck. Fuck, I couldn't even muster up the courage to look at him. Instead, I examined the car, marvelling at the interior leather. I dug my fingers into the chair, and they sunk into the material is if it was made of churned butter. "Why is my ass sweating?"
"Seat warmers." He shrugged. "Are you hot?"
"So hot... I mean, uh, yeah. Sorry, I just don't like being overheated. Could you crack a window?"
"Sure thing."
That fucking smile! I could only see half of his face, but I knew he was doing that smirk hooky thing with his lip. I wanted to bite it off his face. And did he change his clothes? It was hard to tell in the dim of the car, but his sweater seemed to have changed colours from a dark grey to a pale blue. Certainly it didn't need to be so tight? I could practically count his abdominal muscles - not that I was ogling.
"Put your seatbelt on," he ordered, but I couldn't seem to move just yet.
"Why? Is it a law in Washington?"
"Yes, but that's not why. You're very precious cargo." His hand gripped the gearshift, and once again I thought about his cock.
"Dude, is that a compliment? Because you just insinuated I was property."
"Not property - cargo, and sadly, not mine."
Wait, what?
My stomach dropped as the car lurched forward.
"You, er... what?"
He turned to look at me. "You're fucking beautiful, Bella." His voice seemed to darken. "If only this wasn't so fucked up."
"Keep your eyes on the road," I whispered, my voice cracking with shock. He looked away and sighed, gripping the steering wheel with his left hand so hard I could see the tendons in his forearm shudder beneath his shirt.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Yeah, I'm sort of counting on that."
"Could you be a little more cryptic?"
He snorted. "Yeah, probably."
"What do you mean by things are fucked up?"
"Well, for one thing, you have a boyfriend." The corner of his mouth twitched, drawing my attention to his ridiculously sexy jaw.
"What else?" I asked quickly.
"Why are you in therapy? Why did my dad have to give you Ativan?"
"Because I tried to kill myself," I said without thinking.
"Did you want to die?" he asked somberly.
"Not really."
"Then why did you do it?"
I shrugged. "I was looking for an exit strategy... look, can we talk about something else?"
"Yeah, sorry." He turned off the radio. I didn't even notice it had been on. "Do you have any hobbies?"
"Yeah," I laughed. "I write terrible poetry about killing myself."
"You're awesome." He was smiling.
"Thanks." I smiled too.
I leaned back against the rich, leather seat and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. I knew it was utterly ridiculous, but my senses were overwhelmed from being in such close proximity to him. His scent, a mix of light cologne and a titillating musk I couldn't identify, permeated the air and made me dizzy. Drool nearly escaped the corner of my mouth as I took in gulps of eau de Edward.
"Hey, are you okay?" He took my hand in his and placed it over the gearshift. His foot pressed down smoothly on the clutch, and he dragged both my hand and the shift into fourth gear.
The engine roared, and I just about liquefied.
"Yeah… I'm fine. Tired…"
He squeezed my fingers, his skin cool against my own hot hand, and I felt the car lurch again as he pushed us into fifth.
I couldn't help it…
It was too much…
I moaned.
"Shit," Edward groaned. "Bella?"
I bit my lip roughly and pressed my thighs together. The tension in my body was crazy. He was barely touching me, but I felt like I was being strummed like a guitar string. I was wound so tight I was apt to break.
"Fuck," I squeaked.
"It's okay. Don't be nervous."
"I'm… mortified." I tried to move my hand off the gearshift, but he wouldn't let me.
"No, baby... don't be." He squeezed my hand again and started gearing down while I tried to calm by breathing.
"Oh my god," I gasped lamely. "What are you doing?"
"Pulling off the road."
"Why?" I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Because I think we're both a little over-excited, and I need to come clean about something."
"You're excited?" The car drifted toward the side of the road, and Edward cut the headlights, leaving us shrouded in darkness.
"Yeah."
"Like, um... aroused?" I could hear his breath hitch at my question.
"I'm hard as a rock."
He told me his cock was hard. I made his cock hard? But he was so perfect, and I was so...
"I want you," I whispered. Please, please want me too? Please don't reject me? Slowly, I reached forward and grabbed his arm. Please, Edward, if you reject me I'll die! "Will you kiss me?"
"I..." His hand covered mine. "This isn't a good idea."
"Please?" I begged shamefully. "Please, please, please..." The horrible, pathetic mantra in my head now filled the car, and there was nothing I could do to take it back. "Please, Edward?"
"Oh, shit, Bella. I can't do this."
"Please?"
He swallowed and pulled my hand off of his arm. "I need to take you back to your car."
"Why?" I was in blood stepped so far already. "You said you were... hard."
"I'm pretty much always hard," he laughed bitterly. "And you're too good for me."
"I'm not," I insisted.
"This was a mistake, Bella... I'm sorry." Without another word, he gunned the engine and jerked the car back onto the freeway.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what I'd done wrong, but I'd already caused irreparable damage. Biting my lip to keep from speaking, I undid my seatbelt and pulled my knees up to my chest. Precious cargo, my ass. I wanted to be thrown overboard.
"I'm sorry."
"You said that already." My voice trembled.
"Please don't cry. I couldn't stand it."
"Fuck you!" How dare he tell me how to feel? "So this was obviously some sort of elaborate ruse you concocted to humiliate me. Consider me fucking destroyed!"
"No, it wasn't..." He slowed the car, dropping down into third as we neared the parking lot of Dr. Banner's office. "I know you're not going to believe me, but I'm trying to protect you."
"From what?" I hissed.
"From being used." He cut the engine and leaned over me to open the door. "I like you too much."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snapped. "I'm getting whiplash from your mixed signals. You like me... You want to protect me... I make you hard, but you don't want to fuck me."
"I want to... fuck you. Just resisting you right now is practically killing me."
"What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He lowered his head into his palm and said, "I'm a sexual compulsive, and your pussy is like a drug to me."
Huh. Gotta say, I wasn't expecting that.
Author's Note: Were you? If you wish your pussy was Edward's brand of Heroin, show me some love by making my pocket vibrate.