BPOV
The water begins to cool, but I don't care. I close my eyes again, lean against the shower wall, and let my mind pick up where it left off.
After the night in the back of my truck, I promise myself I'm going to be smarter than that. Not let my libido call so many shots. I blame my skewed judgment that night on exhaustion. And not having gotten laid in almost a week. And Edward's uncanny ability to summon orgasms out of thin air. But no more. He's good, but his expectation of more is inevitable.
I see him again two nights later. We're at Jasper's bar, Luna, where I first met Edward. Not wanting to trigger her suspicion and probing questions, I didn't object when Rosalie suggested we meet here for drinks. I'm on drink number two and listening to one of Rosalie's co-workers, Tanya, complain about her mother in law. She's a nice enough girl, but her marital woes are bringing me way down. I sway a little to the beat of the music playing and let my eyes wander, going still when I spot Edward seated at the bar talking to Jasper. The bar is circular, with Jasper in the middle and seating all the way around it. Edward is facing my direction, but doesn't notice me. Jasper is doing the rounds, waiting on each person as they approach, but returning to talk to Edward in between. I look away when I start feeling like a creeper, and remind myself of the oath of resistance I'd just made not two days earlier.
So I talk and laugh with Rose and Tanya. I dance. I drink. And I most certainly don't take occasional peeks at the bar. I'm keeping my promise to myself. Until I slip. On my way to the bathroom, I let my eyes land on him. He's smiling lazily and sipping from a bottle of beer.
And talking to a blonde in a bandage dress.
She's got her cleavage pushed up so far, I'm surprised she's got room to sip on the cosmo in her hand. She's giving him what I'm sure are her best moves. The hair flip, the hip pop, the flirty giggle. And he lets her. I can't tell what he's thinking. He just nods and smiles, and lets her rub her hand up his arm. She leans in to say something in his ear and he lets her. She finishes her drink and he signals Jasper to bring her another. She rests her hand on his thigh. He lets her.
I don't even realize I'm still standing in place, watching them, until his eyes move past her and meet mine. And then I'm moving again, embarrassed at being caught staring. I make a beeline to the ladies room, thankful to find it empty. I give myself a mental bitch slap as I pee and wash my hands. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to get my shit together.
By the time I'm walking out of the bathroom, I've steeled my resolve. Edward...whatever his last name is... is just a guy. Just a guy I had a good time with once or twice. He may be some of the best sex I've ever had, but it's not like he's the only guy on the planet who knows what to do with his dick. I pull the door open, determined to ignore the bar and find someone to distract me.
.
.
.
Paul is tall, blonde, tan, and dumber than a pile of rocks. He's a personal trainer and has a body fat percentage of eight. Said body is phenomenal, but there's no one home upstairs. Still, he's male so it only takes a whisper of persuasion to get him to follow me to Jasper's office in the back. I'm currently pressed against a bookshelf and actively avoiding Paul's overeager, unskilled tongue from swiping a path through my mouth again. Once, if only for two seconds, was quite enough. His roaming hands and porntastic "dirty" talk are rapidly cooling my very needy jets over here.
"Oh, yeah. Oh, baby, you're so hot. So hot. Gonna make you feel so good." I roll my eyes to the ceiling and when I turn my face to break the news to Paul that this is over now, I catch movement in the hallway through the crack of the office door. I start to say something, until I realize I recognize that reddish brown hair. I freeze for a second, but Paul doesn't seem to notice. He's pulling up my skirt and pushing my underwear to the side. I lock eyes with Edward and feel a flash of heat between my legs that has nothing to do with the clueless poking around of Paul's fingers. Edward doesn't move. I'm not even sure he's breathing. But I am. Harder by the second.
I smile at Edward and grab Paul by the shoulders, whispering in his ear as I urge him down onto his knees. "You wanna make me feel good, baby?"
He catches onto what I want (shocker) and, dives in. My eyes never leave Edward's as he silently pushes the door open a fraction further. When he licks his hand and pushes it into his pants, I'm a basically already a goner. I don't know what the hell Paul is doing down there. It's sloppy and frantic, but it doesn't matter because watching Edward touch himself could probably get me to O-Town all by itself. I prop my foot up on the shelf and bite my lip to keep from crying out. Edward is breathing harder, leaning his forehead against the doorframe. He clenches his eyes shut, mouth dropping open, and I writhe against Paul's face, biting into the skin of my forearm as I come with Edward. He's gone by the time I right myself and thank Paul for his time.
.
.
This is one long ass shower.
~jada~