A/N: I own no part of Twilight. This chapter is a little bit of a detour, and highly NSFW (okay, it has phone sex). It says a lot about Bella's character more than anything. And I'm posting chapter 22 right after this one. I couldn't wait.
Enjoy.
XXI.
tell me what do i do?
baby, it's clear
Jacob eventually got a part-time job at a store in La Push, so he and Bella had more space, but not enough to cause any damage.
It was just enough for Edward to start talking to her again.
She fucking hated the influence he had on her, but she couldn't fight it.
Edward was frequenting between Seattle and Portland this summer, and he swore he missed her and that he'd see her again. He didn't know she was kind of in a relationship with Jacob, and she didn't tell him. She didn't want him to get angry or upset, and even as she was speaking with Edward, she wasn't necessarily cheating on Jacob. Somewhere in her fucked-up logic, there was legitimate reasoning and it made all the sense in the world.
Bella primarily kept Edward around her—or vice-versa, if she was going to be honest with herself—because she was horny. She was always fucking horny and she needed to fix it, but she didn't want to have sex with Jacob too soon. She didn't know what she was waiting for, but for now it wouldn't feel right.
As much as she liked to say she was real and would only want to be real, she was truly fake. She had said she didn't care to have friends, and maybe that was true, but camaraderie was what she needed, preferably of the sexual kind. It was easier for her to admit that she was a sexual person, but she still felt like she was she betraying some part of herself. Sometimes she still felt like that fifteen-year-old, horribly ashamed of her body. She needed to grow up and get over it.
It was a muggy June afternoon, and she had a date with Edward.
Rubbing lotion that smelled of lavender onto her skin, Bella felt her heart running off a cliff. This would be it, her undoing. Not Edward or anything he could ever say to her, but the way he made her heart pound just in anticipation. Jacob was a good guy with good intentions, but she couldn't do this with him. At least, not yet. He was such a child and she didn't want to wait for him to grow up.
She'd been in the bathroom for an eternity, and she was tired of looking at herself. She was tired of looking into her own eyes, and at her own body, clad in a lacy black bra and equally lacy black panties, as well as the way she bit her lip when she had nervous thoughts. She was tired of all of it. But Edward would see those same things and find something to love about them. He was just as bad as she was—he just couldn't stay away.
When she was finished getting ready, she retreated to her bedroom and locked the door. Laying on her side on the bed, she then messaged him with trembling fingers even though they'd done this a thousand times.
"Call me," she wrote.
She received the call in a matter of moments.
Upon seeing the other person's face, they smiled like they weren't the most fake people in the world. He was currently away in Oregon, visiting friends. He'd been spending so much time between Seattle and Portland because he was too much of a coward to formally date her again. She'd actually been the one to plan this date because she wasn't too proud to beg, and she didn't function on his time anymore.
"Hey," she said. "How's it going?"
He ignored her polite question. "You look beautiful," he remarked.
"You've only seen my face so far."
"I just had to get it out before I start babbling like an idiot."
He looked like he was in a hotel room; she could tell by the wallpaper.
"You're alone, right?" Bella asked.
"Of course," Edward replied. "And you?"
"Yeah, for a couple hours." Her father was at Billy's house. From the looks of it, he'd be there forever.
Edward was silent for a moment. "I wish I could kiss you right now."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I could kiss you for hours," she admitted.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
"If I could kiss you right now," he said, "you know where I'd put my hands?"
"Do you need to see to figure it out?"
"Please."
She panned the camera down a bit, and he received a peek of her lingerie.
He sighed. "Goddamn."
"Would you touch me there?"
"Yes, but not at first. I wouldn't put my hands anywhere at first."
"What would you do?"
It was so quiet that they could both hear a pin drop, even with their distance. Wanting to see him again, she put the front camera back to her face. She tried to keep her breathing okay, tried to remain cool. She was such a fraud—she was Cool Girl to Jacob and everyone else around here because she was so new and unknown, but with Edward, she was like a child.
"I'd put my lips," he began, "on your throat, feel your pulse, and without taking my eyes away from yours, I'd move my lips to your lips for just a moment."
She began to touch herself over her panties, moving her fingers gently. "Mm-hm."
"And before you even know it, you'd be pushing my head down, with your fingers all in my hair."
"And where would your fingers be?" she asked.
"Wherever you want them to be."
"I'm trying to figure that out right now." Staring at him, she stuck two fingers of her right hand into her mouth, and they were out of the frame, under the lace waistband of her panties. In that instant, she thought it was all over; she thought she had set herself on fire.
His breathing hitched. "Oh fuck, Bella, you're gonna do this to me?" he asked.
"Mm-hm."
"God, I miss you." Not enough.
"I miss you, too." Still not enough.
His eyes closed as his right hand became significantly busier. "What do you do when I'm gone?" he wondered.
Still working her right hand around, she said, "I tell myself it's cool to do things my own damn way when I'm waiting for you. So when you're not here, I get my kicks just like you." If she was a more honest person, she would say that she got her kicks better alone than he could, most of the time.
"Just like me?" He was breathing hard, and his eyes were closed.
"That's the best way to get them." Then she moaned at her own touch, arching her back slightly. "Oh, shit," she grumbled.
He didn't speak; just grunted and stroked. Her whimpers matched like puzzle pieces without meaning to.
"Fuck, you're so sexy when you make noises like that," he told her.
"It's all for you," she said quietly, focused. She collected her thoughts, made sure to breathe, and took his lead the best she could. She was positive she had set herself on fire now. Something pooled in the pit of her stomach, and she wasn't too concerned with being silent or holding anything in.
Their noises carried the same tempo and dynamic. Not bothered with the camera angle that he looked at her from, she rolled her head back and set her phone down on the sheet. Once she found the right spot, she grabbed at her own body instead as her moans grew louder. Her other hand traced along her breasts, and then ran up and through her hair, tugging a little bit.
"Fuck," she exclaimed, not concerned with the entire neighborhood hearing her.
He climaxed first, and relaxed into his pillows in his bed in his hotel in Oregon. He waited.
She climaxed on her own time, reaching a state of bliss he could never take her to. When she had finished, she brought herself back down to Earth and slowly stuck her fingers into her mouth again. And tasted. She liked it.
The resolution was peaceful as they listened to each other breathe. With the subtle time lapse, they didn't really inhale and exhale at the exact same time, but they pretended. Just for kicks.
"I really miss you," she told him, even if it wasn't exactly true. Her voice was murky and lost somewhere in her throat. She wiped a couple of petty tears away, wishing he could do that for her like he used to, and put her face back on the front camera.
"You, too," he replied.
"And you'll be home soon?"
"I don't know."
She was silent. He didn't want her back. He just wanted to get off. She would call him the worst if she didn't recognize that she was doing the same thing.
"It's likely," he added.
"It's cool," she told both him and herself.
It was plenty cool. She'd just have to make do with things her own damn way to get her kicks.
It was cool.
Charlie came home later that night as Bella was cooking dinner, and she didn't know what to expect. He wasn't in a good mood, but he wasn't in a bad one, either. The way he said, "Hey, Bells" was ambiguous.
"How was it over at Billy's house?" she called as he got settled in the recliner in the living room. She stood in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables, trying to keep her mind off Edward and this afternoon's activities.
"It was pretty good," Charlie said, his voice unsure. "Jake was there."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. He's a good kid, you know."
"We've been hanging out a lot. I like him." And it was true. It felt good to actually not lie.
"He was gonna call and ask if you wanted to come over, too," Charlie added. "Guess he thought you were busy."
"I definitely would've gone over," she said. Back to lying again already. "I swore he had work, though."
"I mean, if you say you like him..." Charlie's voice trailed off.
Bella tried not to get too defensive too quickly. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"I didn't think you'd give Jake a chance, is all," he said, finally relaxing now that he got to the point.
"We had that talk, what, a year ago?" Bella asked. "Things are different."
"I know, I know. And I know why, too. I just… I'm just surprised."
"You thought I'd never come around to liking him?"
"It's not that," he said lamely, "it's just—"
"It's just that," she finished. "Well, I do like Jacob. And his friends. I gave them a chance like you told me to a year ago and I'm glad that I did."
"Glad you broke up with that scumbag," he muttered under his breath, thinking she couldn't hear him. She blissfully ignored his comment and kept cooking dinner.
As much as she hated to reflect on what she had used to be with Edward, she knew exactly what he'd say at this given moment. In her head, he sat at the kitchen table, looking up at her with promising eyes, rolling a joint. He'd say that Charlie didn't understand them—or what they had been. He'd say, Fuck 'em.
And she'd agree.
And she'd take a hit of that joint.
(God, she needed to get high right now.)
And she'd release all the bad vibes with the smoke. She'd always agree with him.
Fuck 'em.
She would have done that in an instant, back when he had been her everything, but she had changed. She was different and she was okay with it. She didn't need him like that anymore.
She smiled at her next thought.
Fuck him.
A/N: Keep going. Chapter 22 is up next and it's a personal favorite of mine.
Take care,
HS