"I want to see you."

"I thought you were working," To Jasper's credit, the boy didn't miss a beat. I wondered if he was always this smooth and unruffled. He was mellow, which was foreign to me.

"I finished."

"Cullen let you out of his clutches that quickly? He must be losing his touch," Jasper laughed, although I didn't. I impatiently hailed a cab outside Cullen Tower, climbing in while the driver waited for me to tell him where I was going. Good question. Where was I going?

"If you don't want to see me-"

"I do," Jasper's answer was too quick to fit his feigned nonchalance. I fought back a smile. Of course he wasn't mellow. None of us were. "Where?"

"Le Parker Meridien."

"I'll see you in half an hour."

Jasper was already at Knave, nestled in the hotel, when I got there, after apologizing profusely to the cabbie for attempting to redo my too-light makeup and apply some perfume in the back seat. I was met with my frantic attempts to make myself more presentable with a scathing look via rearview mirror, and a very pointed rolling down of the windows to let in the autumnal breeze. Subtle, these cabbies, they were.

He was beautiful. There was no other word for him, shimmering in and out of view like some sort of glorious mirage as a haze of cigarette smoke, which was technically not allowed but was being emitted by people too wealthy for rules, swept around him like some sort of fog. The glorious sharpness of his fine features were distinguishable even from a distance, a hand running through his long golden hair as he stared intently down at the screen of his phone. The light from his phone, which should have been unflattering, only brought attention to the prominence of his features, the flawlessness of his facial construction. His alabaster skin glowed against the black of his sweater, and I watched as he looked up from his phone, cast a nondescript eye across the room, and checked his watch. His open display of impatience was refreshing. I took a moment to gaze at him, and also to calm myself.

As I walked across the crowded room, I had enough time to regret my rush decision. I had been left angry by my encounter with Edward, by yet another of his attempts to exercise his control over me. I had made a poor decision by calling Jasper and demanding to see him again, something that had clearly taken him off guard. I was starting with a handicap, but there was no point in dwelling about how I made poor decisions when intoxicated with anger and sexual frustration. He spotted me as I made my way through the crowd, and he stood as I approached, ever the Southern gentleman. The slightest of smiles played upon his lips, and I blushed as I remembered how forcefully his lips had pressed against mine less than 24 hours ago.

"I was starting to think I'd been stood up," Jasper smirked, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. The thought that any woman would be stupid enough to stand him up was comical, and we both knew it. I was taken by surprise when I felt Jasper's hands ease my coat off my shoulders and place it on the back of the bar stool, his fingertips lingering for the briefest of moments on the back of my neck before he pulled out the stool for me. He had joked about his father rolling in his grave last night at the thought of his son abandoning his thoroughly-bred manners; he needn't have worried.

"Thank you," I said as he brushed off my fleeting looks at him with a casual shrug.

"Is the bar alright, or would you prefer a table?"

"The bar's a pretty good place to pick up guys, isn't it?" I teased, and Jasper grinned as I moved my long hair over one shoulder and ordered a Jack and Coke.

"No bottle of Krug?" Jasper asked sarcastically as he waved for another Johnnie Walker Blue Label. I was secretly pleased that he had skipped the route of trying to impress me by ordering the $10 000 bottle of champagne. I was even more pleased that his tastes were as simple as mine. "I'd expect more of a city girl."

"Not quite a city girl, I'm afraid," I replied as the drinks slid in front of us. I took a small sip and sucked my teeth a little. It was very strong. Clearly, with comparatively cheap liquor, the folks at Knave were generous.

"I have to say," Jasper said after a few moments of silence while we surveyed the well-heeled crowd. "I didn't think I'd hear from you."

"So soon?"

"Ever," Jasper corrected. "I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to show up at your office with white roses demanding the honor of your presence. The gentleman in me is dying a slow death with you, I have to say."

"Well, if I'd known that's what you were going for, I would have held out," I turned my head to hide my smile. "Finding the city entertaining?"

"Rose has dragged me through every single department of Barneys and through four different branches of Bang & Olufsen today. It's hardly been a scream," Jasper said drily. "I'm pretty sure I'd be sitting in front of her at a table at the London watching her finish a bottle of Ace by herself had you not called."

"So my presence is preferable?"

"Infinitely," Jasper said without pause, and downed the last of his drink. I watched as he tilted his head back and drained the last of the amber liquid, watching the sleek, graceful lines of his throat and the quick flickering of his tongue as he cleaned the rim of the Baccarat glass. He barely had to tilt his head for another before the bartender was pouring another. "Tell me about your day."

"I spent it with Cullen. Arguing with Cullen," I said lightly. Jasper, emboldened by the Blue Label scotch floating around in his system, casually bent an arm over the back of my stool as I decided what to tell him. "He was being difficult."

"He always was," Jasper mused, taking another sip of his drink. For a moment, he looked pensive, but I drained my glass and he quickly motioned for another. "Emmett, on the other hand..."

"You knew Emmett?"

"Doesn't everyone know Emmett?" I couldn't help but smile as I remembered bear-like, incessantly goofy, incessantly happy Emmett. I hadn't spoken to him in weeks, but Esme had assured me during our last phone call that he was doing as well as he ever had in Seattle. I didn't know what he was doing, but if he was choosing to live off his enormous trust fund, I would never begrudge him for it. He deserved that much. "God, he was so fucking weird. Does he still drive that jacked-up Jeep-?"

"He crashed it in Montana two years ago," I laughed as Jasper grinned. "Drove it right into a river and then backed into a boulder wall. Fucked it up beyond belief. I think he bought a new one, and a Hummer on top of it all."

Emmett liked his vehicles big, ostentatious, and as intimidating as possible. It was quite hilarious, as the last time I had seen him, he had pulled into the parking lot of the local Swiss Chalet in a screaming red Hummer with chrome rims, blaring Chief Keef, daring anyone to call him out for the douchebag he knew he was being. Everyone, even the usually-mouthy high school kids who rode longboards everywhere, had been too intimidated by Emmett's 6'4" muscle-bound frame to say a word. To Emmett, his taste in cars was another big joke- He loved to watch people's expressions change from disgust to reverence as they realized the douchebag with the underlights on his Jeep was one of the wealthiest people in a city filled to the brim with quiet millionaires.

Edward, on the other hand, drove cars so immediately, audaciously expensive that everyone cleared way for him, fearing they would scrape the paint job of his car and have to sell a vital organ to pay for its repair. For Edward, the sleek Bugattis and Alfa Romeos and Lamborghinis and Maseratis were just another expression of his desire for control. I had seen his garage, seen the row upon row of Maybachs and vintage Rolls Royces lined up in degree-accurate angles, polished and ready for his command. I had also seen the casual indifference with which he treated his cars, once giving away a prized Audi Supercar to a stubborn one-night stand to get her to 'fuck off'. He had gotten a replacement within the hour, parked in its usual place and more gleaming than ever. Like they were for Emmett, cars were a tool of intimidation for Edward. He just did it in a different way than his brother.

"Is Emmett still not talking to Edward?"

I shook my head, and Jasper looked as though he wanted to say something, and chose not to. Perhaps wisely, he changed the subject, regaling me with stories of his time spent in the South, growing up on an enormous Texan estate before heading off to an academy, where he promptly managed to spent 364 of the 365 days of the year stoned.

"I wish I had more to tell you about the place darling, but I swear, I've said all I remember," I giggled as we proceeded to get well and properly sloshed. It was so easy being with him, so easy to let myself become wrapped in his soothing voice as he told me stories about a past I didn't know about, opened me up to a world without darkness and tragedy and a looming figure throughout all of its events.

We talked for hours. I told him as much as I knew I could. To my surprise, Edward never entered the conversation again. I had thought he would be the dominant topic of conversation, but after the brief discussion of him at the beginning, he never entered again. I was surprised to discover that we had so much to talk about- Jasper was as open about his grief of losing his father as I was closed off about losing my own. When the crowd began thinning out and the sexual tension grew thicker, Jasper leaned in to me, the warm scent of Johnnie Walker on his breath. I shivered as he took a brief inhale of my scent before he spoke.

"Do you know how to play pool?"

I gaped at him, taken aback. Jasper grinned lazily, lounging in his chair, clearly pleased with how he had thrown me.

"I could beat your ass, Pretty Boy," I promised, and he smirked deeply.

"I'll take you up on that offer."

And that was how we ended up in his penthouse suite at, coincidentally, Le Parker Meridien, at 3 AM, giggling drunkenly as Jasper attempted to set up the balls in their correct configuration in the middle of the table. Thankfully, Rosalie didn't like the interior of the hotel and was staying at the Hilton Penthouse Suite instead. I was sure Jasper's suite was luxurious to the teeth, but I was too drunk and too giggly to take in my surroundings other than noticing there was a lot of gilt gold furniture, kitchen appliances, and leather sofas everywhere. Jasper growled in frustration as he managed to fuck up the balls yet again.

"I can't do this sober, hang on," He complained, dashing off into the halls of his suite before I could point out that he was very, very far from being sober. He returned moments later, holding an unmistakeable bag of green herbs in one hand and rolling papers in the other. Jasper gave me a slightly guilty look as he stripped of his black sweater, revealing a plain black t-shirt underneath, and began rolling a joint. "Don't tell. I supposedly kicked the habit right after I was dismissed from West Point."

"Supposedly," I drawled as I watched him rolling the papers deftly. It was a strangely erotic experience watching his tongue swirl around the edges of the paper as he neatly sealed in the homemade cigarette, and clenched it between his lips as he searched his pockets for a lighter. I watched as he found one, then turned to me.

"Where are my manners. Ladies first," Jasper offered me the joint, which I gladly relieved him of. I'd never been a big stoner, but I'd indulge in the occasional green cigarette during my brief stint at Columbia. Needless to say, if you lived in Washington state, you would have done weed at least once before you turned 15. I hadn't been an exception to the rule. I wrapped my lips around the edge of the joint and watched as Jasper lit it, his eyes focused on my lips as I took a deep inhale of the fragrant kush. It was good stuff, better than anything I'd scored at Columbia and even better than Washington hash, and I felt the familiar hazy feeling overcome me as I held in the smoke.

Jasper leaned in and I obliged him, exhaling gently the smoke from between my lips to his, running my hands through his hair as I watched smoke exhale from my mouth and leak into his. We repeated it twice until the smoke couldn't be seen, his tongue wrestling with mine as the slightest tendrils of smoke escaped our kiss. I was delirious, whether with my first brush with kush in a year or with Jasper's slow, bone-melting kisses, I couldn't tell. Unlike the last time, there was no rush, no crazed hunger. Smoke leaked from between our lips and surrounded us as his teeth nipped with a slow gentleness, his hands wandering and tracing the lines and curves of my spine.

"Pool," I whispered against his lips, and Jasper backed away, exhaling his last lungful of fragrant smoke and running his hands through his long hair once more.

If a good hit of marijuana was the cure for being terrible at setting up the pool table, it was not the cure for being a terrible pool player. At least for me. Jasper sank in ball after ball, watching with amusement as I made balls jump all over the place, and even sent the cue knocking into the surface of the table.

"Fuck!" I complained after my third straight misfire. "Hale, this is total bullshit."

"Here, I can't watch a lady in distress," Jasper smirked as he rounded the table and came up behind me, aligning his chest against my back, deftly covering my body with his as we eyed the cue ball. Suddenly, I couldn't remember what we were doing, let alone why we were eyeing up a small white ball like it held the answer to the universe. Apparently, my sudden falter in concentration was lost on Jasper, as he gave a brief jerk of his jaw to focus my attention back to the table, and away from his face.

"Steady it, move back slow, and push, darling, don't jerk," He said, and I watched as he guided my movements, smoothly sinking in the ball to the left pocket. I paused as we watched the ball disappear, and his breathing became labored as we both realized that he still had not moved.

I didn't know who initiated it first, whether his lips pressing into the back of my neck signaled the start, or if it began when I turned and linked my arms around his neck, kissing him with a hunger and a desire that transcended him. He was aggressive, and there was no doubt at all that he was just as dominant as Edward was. He took without a thought, but he gave just as easily. His tongue swept the inside of my mouth, his teeth nipped and bit down the length of my throat as he let me gasp for air, easing the sharp pain of his bites with the cool relief of his tongue. I mewled and pulled at his hair while Jasper kept a firm grip on my upper arms, completely unsure if I wanted him closer or if I wanted room to breathe as he sucked relentlessly at the pressure points along my throat.

"D-Don't mark," I managed, thinking through the cloud of lust that Edward would most definitely lose any semblance of control if he saw marks. It was the wrong thing to say, as Jasper sucked and licked and nipped with fevered determination as he exposed the column of my throat, keeping my head thrown back by keeping a fistful of hair which he tugged on forcefully when he wanted to explore a new area of my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones. "Fuck, Jasper-"

"You're scared he'll see it?" Jasper challenged, and before I could reply, his lips crashed onto mine, swallowing up any answer that wouldn't have pleased him. I was gasping for air by the time his lips moved to my ear, and panting by the time he began harshly whispering. "I fucking hope he sees it. I know you hope he sees it too. You love to fuck with him, don't you?"

I was delirious as I clawed at his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head with almost panicked urgency. Even in our crazed states, I couldn't miss the beauty that was Jasper Hale's body, lithely muscled and long in its lines and feline in its grace. I didn't have much of a chance to admire it fully, as he was upon me again, tearing at my shirt and throwing it aside as though it had personally insulted him. I felt the prickly felt of the pool table against my bare back as Jasper pushed me fully against it, his cool metal dog tags the only reprieve from what felt like miles and miles of burning flesh. He was panting just as hard as I was, my legs wrapped around his waist as I struggled to keep from appearing totally wanton and grinding against him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," He managed as I clawed at his back as he pawed underneath my black lace bra. His hands were rough and not at all gentle, just as frenzied and harsh as his kisses. He twisted and pulled and soon his tongue had replaced his hands, my hands tangled in his hair as he sucked and licked and nipped while I arched and pleaded and ground into him.

"No," He said, detaching his mouth from my nipple and kissing me with a new ferocity. His blue eyes were blazing as he pushed my hair back from my face, planting kisses along my jawline. "I'm not going to fuck you tonight."

What the fuck? I managed to think through a cloud of lust. Jasper pushed back his sweat-matted hair from his own face, breathing heavily as he toyed with the button of my jeans. His beautiful body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his chest heaving almost as much as mine was.

"You really want that, baby? You really want me to fuck you across a pool table, to bend you across the arm of a couch and fuck you from behind?" Jasper looked amused as he leaned in and ground against me, eliciting more panting. He leaned in closer. "I will. I promise I will. I'll fuck you every way possible, I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop. But not tonight. I'm not going to have you for the first time across a goddamn pool table."

"I-don't... I don't want," I tried to say, but he placed the softest of kisses along my throat, soothing the deep purple bruises I knew would be there in the morning.

"The first time I have you, I'll see every look on your beautiful face as I fuck you, every single expression as you come," He said softly. "I'll watch you milk my cock, I'll watch you suck me off, hell, I'll make you watch. See how fucking beautiful you are. That's going to be our first. Everything else after, anything you want, you'll have. Just not now."

"Jasper-"

"I promise you, it'll be worth the wait," He said, and his kisses were softer now, gentler. Confusingly sweet. "I'll make it so good for you, sweetheart, you won't believe."

Eventually, after what felt like hours of Jasper kissing and teasing and whispering things into my ear so deliciously horrible, of everything he wanted to do to me and what he would do, the sun began to break over the Manhattan skyline. As I struggled to rise, I felt his weight increase as he held me beneath him.

"Stay with me," Jasper spoke drowsily. "Please, Bella. Stay."

And so I did.