A/N: I love you guys. You're the best kind of perverts. The song is Stay the Night by Zedd ft. Hayley Williams. tea4tuulips on Twitter guessed it first! I don't know why I was so excited for y'all to catch that. I'm easily worked up, I guess. lol

~jada~ (sorry this took a year. omg.) (no beta) (ily, Iris, don't kill me)

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BPOV

The click of the front door closing wakes me the next morning. I'm curled up on the sofa, dress still bunched around my waist but I'm covered by a throw now. I recognize it as the green one from the end of my bed and I know it's there because of Edward.

I hate when he does things like that. It makes this... thing we have feel like something else. Something more.

I close my eyes and wait for the rumble of his engine as he's leaving, the sound triggering memories of the night we met.

"You know him?" I elbow Rose and nod in the direction of where he's standing. His palm is flattened against the wall above the head of an irate looking redhead. He towers over her. I can't see his face or hear what they're arguing about over the band, but his posture is stiff. The girl is obviously tanked, shrieking and flailing her arms in all directions obnoxiously. She'd be flat on her ass if it weren't for the wall she's leaning against.

Rose tears herself away from whatever conversation she's having with Emmett. "Alice's brother. Why?"

My brow lifts, lips purse. I scan my eyes up and down what I can see of him. Even from just behind, he's got more going for him than half the assholes here.

Rose snorts. "Don't even think it, Bella. The harpy is his girlfriend."

"And?" I watch as the redhead is pulled away by another girl who scowls at Alice's brother as she leads her friend away.

"Aside from the fact that going for him makes you a home wrecking twat?" Rose is the only person who could ever get away with saying this to me. Anyone else would limp away with a bloody face and a bald patch. She gives me a half smile and I shrug.

"I'm only wrecking a home if they're married. And I don't see a ring on any of those long fingers of his." He storms away to the bar, grabbing the bartender's attention and knocking back the shot placed in front of him. He makes the gesture for another and I stand up, tossing two twenties on the table so Rose and Emmett aren't left paying for all the drinks. "I'll call you later, okay?"

She shakes her head and smiles at me. "Be good, B."

I wink at her. "Never heard em tell me any different."

She laughs and calls me a ho, but it sounds like 'love ya' because it's what she really means. I'm not a ho, I'm ambitious. When I see something I want, I say so. I make it happen. People can judge me for it all they want. If I was a man, I'd be a 'stud' or a 'player'. But because I dip where they dangle, I'm a slut? Fuck that.

He's busy with his second shot when I slide into the stool next to him. He slams the glass on the bar and licks a drop from his perfect bottom lip. And maybe I've had too much to drink because I'm wondering what that stray drop of liquid could possibly be thinking. Who would run from that mouth? Not I. Gravity be damned.

I watch his large hands braced against the edge of the bar as he takes a deep breath, eyes closed, and rolls his head back and forth on his neck. His shoulders are sculpted sin beneath a black thermal shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and there's a vein that runs along the underside of his forearm and disappears beneath his wrist.

I wanna lick it on my way down to-

"What can I get you, Bella?" Jasper's voice intrudes on my fantasy, but it's okay because his interruption catches tall, dark and stressed out's attention.

"Old Fashioned, keep the fruit." Jasper nods and gets to work.

My potential entertainment for the evening gives me a cursory glance, that evaluative one all males with a pulse give a female in their line of sight. I stay still, meeting his eyes confidently when he finally gets that high up.

He plays it cool, looking away and sipping on the beer Jasper sets in front of him, but I saw the way his eyes lingered on all of the fun parts.

He's gonna be delicious.

"Rough night?" I ask him as I sip my own drink. He snorts at this, shaking his head and taking another pull from his beer. "You could say that."

He glances at me again, but away just as fast, jaw clenching.

"I could help you relax, you know." Not the smoothest line, I know, but it's getting late and small talk is a waste of time. Besides, I can feel the hum of anticipation under my skin. The need to be touched. Taken.

He turns his face to me then, and his eyes are darker than before. Hungry. Even still, it takes him a few moments. I wonder if he's thinking of the harpy and all the reasons why doing all the things to me that he wants to do is wrong. And maybe they are, but alas...

"Let's go," he says in a 'fuck it' tone of voice.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket, but I stand and cover the opening of it with my hand. "Jasper, put these on my tab."

"Yes, ma'am." I ignore the judgment in his stare, the sarcasm in his tone of voice.

"I can pay for my own drinks." He's adorably offended.

I step closer to him. With the hand that covers his wallet, I run my index finger over his hand and up his forearm. His eyes follow its path and then burn into mine. "Don't worry. You will."

I stop in the parking lot with him on my heels. "Which one's yours?"

Instead of answering, he hits the the fob on his keys and the lights flash on a truck two spaces down. It's completely blacked out – windows, rims, everything. Perfect.

It was cold that night, so we parked down by Grace Lake and fucked with the heat running, the rumble of his engine vibrating through the seats beneath my knees while I rode him through two orgasms.

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A/N: Thoughts on B? A girl who knows what she wants? A home wrecker? A hot mess?