A/N: I'm late I know. I've been feeling pretty crap lately. My arch nemesis, spring, is here, and I am a living, breathing ball of phlegm. And to top it off it's a total killjoy when it comes to writing. I haven't written a bloody thing in weeks. I sound whiny, I know. I'm totally whining. I have no patience for this sickness bullshit.
Anywho, thank you to everyone for the faves and reviews. I appreciate every one. Thanks to my bitches, as well. They know who they are. I'm sure you (who read author's notes) do as well.
Just a friendly reminder for those who aren't from this continent that apparently doesn't exist, when we say "pissed" on it's own it means drunk. Also a rubber is an eraser.

Hoodwinked

Chapter 19

"I knew I shouldn't have shown you," Edward declares for the tenth time in an hour. It's obvious he's reacting to me, but he's getting the context of all my emotions all wrong.

"I wanted you to. Stop being anal—I'm fine!" I insist. I am fine. And slightly shocked. And, yeah, somewhat apprehensive, too, but I really am fine.

"You're not fine." He appears to conclude. "You're not supposed to look at your boyfriend's dick like that."

"Like what?"

"Like it's a bloody scalpel."

"I didn't. Stop overreacting. I like it," I reiterate.

"You like it," he echoes, that dubious brow arching high on his forehead.

"I do!" I stress.

"Then why did your mouth fall open?"

"It's...big!" I answer, and Christ, I fell straight into that one.

Of course, the shithead only smirks to himself. "Well...yeah."

"God, you're such a male." I shove against him, rolling my eyes.

He chuckles, and pulls me back against his bed with him. I'm still braless, and in my knickers—yeah, he got my shorts off, too—but at the sound of Alice and Jas walking through the front door earlier, he threw his shirt on over me. I'm still wearing it, and I like the feel of it against my skin. And the smell of him all through the cotton.

"Did that limp dick really not ever show you his?" he asks me.

"No," I reply without hesitation. "Ugh—god, no."

"Why not?" He sounds curious, which is pretty odd in light of what we were just doing.

"He wanted to, but I... didn't."

"You didn't..." he repeats sceptically.

"No..." I half shake my head.

"But it's what you do."

"What?" I turn to face him.

"When you go out with someone, it's kinda what you do."

"I know." I shrug, but I really don't know. "Just...ew—no."

"Bella...?" he says after releasing a short breath.

"What?"

"Why the hell did you go out with him?" He's serious, I realise.

"I don't know," I murmur, sliding my arm over his bare chest.

"I was over here the whole time." His voice softens as he reaches over to clamp my nose between his fingers. I don't stop him; I really do like it.

"I know you were, but you threw me off by giving me so much shit."

"It was the only way I could get you to say anything to me."

"You could have been nice to me," I state the obvious.

He scoffs, completely dismissing me. "If I was what would you have thought?"

I hesitate, considering it for a moment before I realise his point. "I probably would have wondered what you were up to," I mumble sheepishly.

"See?" He nudges me with his shoulder.

"I know..." I concede.

"When was it that you decided I was such an asshole?"

"I never thought you were an arsehole," I answer truthfully. A shithead, yes, but it was never out of spite. "You were just...Alice's older brother and larger than life—and in an entire different universe from me."

"But up until my mum died, we were tight," he reminds me—he reminds me what an asshole I am.

I groan and bury my face against chest. "How could you forgive me?"

"You were a kid, you dope, and it wasn't your job to fix me." His voice trails after his obviously straying thoughts, and it only makes me feel worse.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, rising my head long enough to catch his gaze.

His brow quirks. He's not angry; confused maybe. "Didn't I tell you to stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Telling me you're sorry."

"I still am, though."

"Jesus, you're a pain in the neck. Did you forget, I treated you a fuck-ton worse last week?"

"No," I answer in a small voice.

"Are you still pissed off at me over it?"

"No, but you still owe me one," I remind him, breaking into a smile that his quickly follows.

"Then we're even. Deal?"

"Okay," I say with a sigh.

"You're not going to bring it up again?" He raises his eyebrows unconvinced.

"No."

"It'll piss me off if you do."

"I won't."

"Alright..." he mumbles, his smile twitching broader. "Did I test you enough?"

"Did I pass?"

His brow arches again. "Isn't that whataboutism?"

I immediately pause, gauging him. "So, you remembered..." I say, impressed by the fact he did. Just prior to his HSC trials Alice and I agreed to help him with English—only for Alice to quickly abandon us. It was all for nothing anyway since he was disqualified from sitting it.

"Of course, I remembered," he replies matter-of-factly.

"You spent the entire time flicking pieces of rubber at me," I remind him, as he snorts back the obvious urge to laugh.

"I still remembered."

"Obviously," I mumble dryly.

"Are you going to answer?"

"...Answer?"

"Did I test you enough?" he repeats—in a monotone just to be a smartass.

"Yes," I slap his chest. "Did I pass?"

He takes a breath and releases it in a deliberately drawn-out hum. "B minus."

"That's still a pass, you jerk!"

He laughs. "God, you get wound up quickly."

"Because you wind me up."

"Because it's so easy to do."

"Well—stop it!"

"I'll think about it..." he says smugly.

"I won the first bet—"

"You've cashed that in five times over, brown eyes." He pulls himself over me, leaning in close until his breath floods my nostrils. "You have to stop thinking ahead of everything."

"I... what?"

"That's why you get a B minus. You over-think fucking everything."

"I do not."

"And I don't have a big dick," he says, straight back into shithead mode.

"Will you stop it!?" I blurt, shoving him away from me. He's so good at frustrating me while reminding me again that in overlooking most things about him, I also forgot how well he knows me.

He only laughs of course, and flopping back beside me, he pulls me to him. "You're getting screechy again."

"I'm sorry I said anything..." I grumble, relaxing myself against him regardless.

"About what? My big dick?"

"Oh my god!" Pulling my hand from around him I splay it across my face.

"So, what do you rate it?" he asks after his laughter dies down.

"What?"

"My penis."

"I... don't be a smartass."

"Well?"

"What?"

"One out of ten?"

"I'm not—this again? Are you eight?"

"Tell me?" he presses.

"I said it's big." I huff, exasperated by the size of his ego.

"You have nothing to compare it to."

"I'm not completely clueless, you know."

"One out of ten."

"I'm not playing that stupid game again."

He tsks. "You're going to have to give me something since you looked at it like it's a face hugger."

"A face what?"

"Aliens."

"What? Are you that upset over it?"

"Kinda, yeah..."

With my exasperation hitting breaking point, I groan loudly. "And you say I get bent out of shape."

"This is different."

"How?" I question him cynically.

"This is my manhood we're talking about."

"I told you I like it!"

"He likes you." He breaks into a devilish grin, as I roll my eyes.

"You are such an infant. I thought his name was Mr Doobee."

"Nah, I was just messing with you."

I can only sigh in complete defeat, and give in.

"Kiss me," he says after a moment.

"What?" I raise my head again.

"You heard."

"You don't have to tell me that anymore," I remind him. "You can just kiss me."

"I want you to kiss me. I don't think you will unless I say something."

Sighing shortly, I pull myself up on my elbow and plant my lips to his. He doesn't immediately release me, and before I'm aware of it, one of palms slips beneath his shirt and cups to my breast. He squeezes—hard.

"Ow—ow!" I burst, severing from him impulsively. "Edward—too rough!"

"Sorry," he says actually sounding remorseful before immediately withdrawing his hand. "Kiss me without me asking, okay?"

"Okay," I agree before doing just that. And then again, a little longer this time. "Happy?"

"Hmm..." he murmurs, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

"Just be gentler in future, alright?"

"Yeah. It's kinda just..."

"Habit?" I co-opt him.

"Not exactly."

"What then?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"Never mind."

"Tell me!"

No," he imitates my tone.

"You're such an ass," I mumble, but I'm smiling and it doesn't exactly aid in my conviction.

He laughs; it has the tenor and huskiness of tipsy, and it's definitely a sound I could get used to.

"We gonna go partying tomorrow night?" I ask after a moment of lying quietly against him.

"Hm... nah."

"I thought you wanted to," I remind him, glancing up at him.

"Bella, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you don't exactly scream 'party girl'."

"I know, but I was going to go for you," I admit.

"I'd only wind up getting pissed."

"Isn't that what everyone does at parties?" I arch a brow in emphasis as he breaks into a smile again.

"Yeah, but you're a lightweight. You'd be puking all over me."

I shove him as he immediately breaks into laughter. "I would not!"

"Geez, what kind of asshole would I be if I took my girlfriend to a place that'd make her uncomfortable?"

I hesitate, even as the smile rapidly returns to my face. "Okay, I already agreed to have sex with you, so why are you being so nice?" I tease him, and I'm pretty sure I've just rendered him speechless.

"Seriously, do you enjoy wounding me?" he says after bouncing back, and in a nanosecond he has me pinned by the wrists beneath him.

"I'm joking," I insist, attempting to wriggle myself free.

"You're pretty good at torture yourself, booger."

"No synonyms!"

"It's payback." He clamps my nose again before yanking at the collar of his shirt I'm wearing to peer down it. "Niiiiiice..." he drawls.

"Edward!" I snap, attempting to shove him off me.

"What? You already showed me. I like them," he uses my words from earlier, and I realise he's having way too much fun with me.

"I thought you'd stop tormenting me after we went real," I mutter begrudgingly, elbowing him completely off me.

"I have stopped tormenting you—"

"You're worse."

"I don't call you snotface anymore, do I? —you know how hard that is?"

"Booger is a synonym," I point out. Again.

"I didn't agree to synonyms."

I open my mouth to reply when he clamps his hand over it. "Will you shut up? Pain in the ass. I'm hungry. Wanna eat?"

"Again?" I answer behind his palm.

"We ate dinner like...two hours ago," is his explanation.

"I'm still full."

"Ice cream?"

"No."

"Tequila milkshake?" he raises his brows, his smirk pulling into effect again.

"No," I repeat, smiling with him. My emotions are beginning to mirror his without any effort on my part. It's got to be a good sign, no matter how much he stirs me.

"Suit yourself," he says pulling himself off the bed and stretching. "Coming?" He turns to glance at me over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I say simply, sliding off the bed.

"You gonna wear that?" he asks, that dubious brow rising again.

I glance down at myself. "Oh..." Despite his shirt covering my knickers, I can't exactly go parading like this in front of Jas. Bra-less to boot.

He actually helps me put my clothes back on, and then hooks my bra up for me. He's throwing me again, but then he is a Gemini so it makes complete sense that he's such a dual personality.

"So, you've come up for air, have you?" Alice asks dryly after Edward drags me into the family room off the hall to his bedroom.

"Huh?" I ask blankly.

"All that fighting has to work up an appetite."

"Alice..." I murmur, feeling my face flame, when Edward adds completely straight faced.

"She tried to cop a feel. I had to fight her off."

With an exasperated sigh I drop my head back. "Just ignore him."

"Always do. No shirt again, Maverick?" She turns her attention to Edward.

"Booger was wearing it." Releasing my hand, he hooks his elbow around my neck and pulls me to him. Pre-empting me, no doubt. "Where's Jasper?"

"Shut up—he went to get Yogurtland."

"Why didn't you say something?" He releases me as I elbow him back.

"You were too busy bitching with each other. We didn't want to disturb you," she says sarcastically.

"Ring him up."

"Too late, he's probably on his way back," she replies, just as Jas himself walks through the front door.

"Hey," he greets me and Edward.

"Get us anything?" Edward immediately questions him.

"Think I'm stupid?" Jas scoffs, holding up the plastic bag revealing four cups inside.

Releasing my breath, I drop down on the sofa beside Alice.

"Have sex?" she asks covertly in my ear.

"No," I whisper, only it comes out as more of an accusation.

"This is the longest foreplay in history," she teases after a moment of scrutinising me.

"Here, Bella. Alice said you like chocolate sauce and nuts," Jas breaks in holding a lidded-cup and a pink spoon out to me.

"Yeah, she likes nuts," Edward pipes up, flopping beside me as Alice snorts.

"God, you're a child," she says.

"Thanks, Jas," I reply taking it from him and deciding to ignore shithead. I peel the lid back and breathe it in. I'm not sure I can stomach anything right now, but no doubt Edward will polish off what I can't finish.

"Hey?" He nudges me.

I turn to him; his cheeks are full of yogurt and god knows what else. Then scooping out a caramel and sprinkled-covered marshmallow with his fingers, he places it to my lips. I accept it only because he seems to like sharing his food with me.

"Wanna watch some horrors?" Jas suggests, squeezing himself between me and Alice.

"We can't. Edward's not old enough," Alice answers, sounding exactly like her brother.

Edward rolls his eyes and laughs pointedly. "We aren't hanging with you, loser."

"Close your mouth, you pig!" Alice protests, and in reply Edward flicks caramel sauce at her. A glob if it lands directly between her eyes, and naturally Edward snorts back his amusement.

"You're an idiot!" she snaps, wiping it off. "Bella, take him away and smack some maturity into him—if that's even possible."

"I wouldn't mind that," is his comeback, evil grin on his face.

"No bringing me into this!" I protest.

"And here I was thinking you could tame him," she mutters.

"What?" Edward asks, his brow suddenly knotting.

"Go back into your room, and keep the bitching to a minimum or I'm going spray the both of you with water," Alice threatens him, but we all know it's empty.

Naturally, Edward only snorts before grabbing my hand and pulling me up with him. "Thanks, Jas." He holds his hand out as Jas momentarily grabs it.

"No worries," he replies.

"You're doing the lights tonight—don't forget," Edward turns to Alice.

"I haven't—night, Bella."

"Tame?" Edward says the moment he closes his door behind us. "Is that what you thought?"

"It's what your sister thought," I clarify. "I'm clearly not as delusional as she is."

He breaks into an almost reluctant smile. "Please tell me you wouldn't... Shit..."

"Huh?" I ask confused because he's really throwing me this time.

"You don't want to change me, do you?" he asks, leaning against his door, his gaze on the floor. He's serious, and not only that; he's almost looks...concerned.

"Why would I want to do that?"

He glances up at me, his eyes fixed to mine steadily. "Lauren tried that shit—for two fucking years."

"Lauren's an idiot," I reply without hesitation, as a genuine smile tugs on his lips.

"Wanna crash?"

"Already? It's only nine-thirty."

"Yeah, but I have to be up early in the morning. And you kept me up late last night."

"That was all you."

He breaks into a full grin, scoffing past it before his eyes once more draw to the floor. "You need a shower or anything?"

"No, I'm fine." Because, yeah, that's not a good idea right now.

"Righto. Bring your pjs?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But...?"

"Can I wear your shirt?" I venture hopefully, as he breaks into a smirk this time.

"Sure."

After taking off my shorts and top, I pull his t-shirt back over my head.

"You wearing that to bed?" he questions, referring to my bra as I reach beneath the back of his shirt, unclasp it and pull it off through an arm hole. His mouth falls open. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"Secret."

He half shakes his head, and following suit, he strips down to his underwear. There's a notable bulge behind them; enough for my eyes to immediately widen in surprise.

"Okay, don't get bent out of shape. What you just did was fucking hot, and it has a mind of its own half the time."

"I believe you," I reply, forcing my eyes to his, and naturally he knows exactly what I'm doing.

"Come on, Rapunzel."

"You know how patronising it is when you call me those names?" I point out after he flicks off the lights and tugs me beneath his sheet with him.

"Why do you think everything I say is patronising?" he asks, wiping my hair back off my forehead and pulling me against his chest.

"It sounds patronising."

"You have to stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Thinking I'm an asshole all the time."

"I told you, I don't think you're an asshole."

"Yeah, righto..." He doesn't believe me, as I sigh, deciding to concede defeat.

"Sorry I called you patronising."

"Sorry I called you Rapunzel."

Leaning slightly forward, I press my lips to his because he wants me to kiss him first. "Goodnight, shithead."

"Why is it you can call me shithead, but I can't call you snotface?"

I huff this time, but mainly because he has a point and I'm covering. "Fine. If you really want to call me snotface, you can."

"Alright..." he murmurs, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He's clearly impressed with himself.

"I really don't think you're an asshole," I feel the need to repeat myself.

"I know," he says lightly, tightening his arms around me. "A word of warning..."

"What?"

"With you sleeping with me like this I'm probably going to be rock hard all night, so try not to knee me or anything."

"Um, okay. Well, thanks for the head's up."

"Or you could help put me at ease..."

"What?" I ask blankly. It's another cover, because we're covering a lot of bases in only a few hours.

"Give me your hand."

"But..."

"But?"

"Edward..."

"It's fine. I can take care of it later."

"Can't you just have a cold shower?"

"Blue balls is a bad thing."

"Do you always have to tell me everything that comes into your head?"

He laughs that smooth, rustic laugh again, only it's becoming compromised by his obvious drowsiness.

"Fine," I decide on the spot before I can talk myself out of it, and reaching down I grab a handful of a very hard, hot mass.

In doing so I almost propel Edward off the side of the bed as a reflexive sound bursts from him. "Fuck, Bella—you have to warn me first!"

"Sorry!" I burst, wanting to suddenly hide beneath the sheet away from him. Though, my first question has been answered. It does fit in my palm—just barely.

"It's okay—Jesus, what are you doing now? Get back up here." He tugs me back to eye level with him. "You still want me to test you?"

I nod, suddenly realising my body springs to life almost as instantly as his does. "Yeah."

Taking the hand, I have clenched against his chest, he slides it down past his stomach to the trail of hair that disappears beneath his underwear. "Under or over?"

"W-what?" I stammer.

"Think about it."

"Oh—what do you want me to do?"

"You're really asking me that?" he teases me.

"Edward..."

"Under obviously, you dork."

"This really isn't funny."

"It kinda is and I'm horny as shit."

I expel my breath as he releases his hand over mine. "I'm sorry—what are you doing?"

"I want you to do what you want."

"Oh..." I don't move. I can't. I'm beginning to burn with curiosity, but my hand has completely frozen.

"Bella..."

"I'm okay, but..."

"But?"

"How hard—I mean, how gentle do I have to be?"

"Treat me like you would if it was your body."

"Okay..." I slip my fingers apprehensively into the waistband of his knickers. "Tell me if I hurt you, okay?"

He laughs again; it shoots silently through his nose this time. "You won't hurt me, but if you do, believe me, you'll know."

"No laughing at me."

"I can't help it. You're funny."

I inch my fingers further down and immediately make contact. It surprises me—as much as the sound of Edward immediately sucking in his breath. Tentatively, I begin to feel around attempting to make sense of everything. "Edward why...?"

"Huh?" His voice has turned gravelly, almost choked. "Bella, you're teasing the fuck out of me."

"But...I mean, which direction is it meant...to be in?" Oh, god, I'm an idiot, and even more of one when Edward starts laughing to himself again. Only this time he's beginning to sound like he's in pain.

"Um, what?"

"Never mind..." Groaning internally, I close my eyes, then drawing from the chutzpah I know exists inside me somewhere, I brush my fingers over that heated, pulsating, and slightly alarming magnitude of him, and enclose my hand around it.

A strained sound erupts from him and he immediately turns rigid. In response, I panic and relax my grip, but almost on impulse his hand once again closes over mine.

"Keep going," he all but whispers, roughly clearing his throat.

I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, but living with my mother, I know enough to get the gist of it fairly quickly. Whatever I'm doing, I'm doing it right because Edward's beginning to come apart. It's a strange feeling to see him so out of control, and to force such a strong reaction from him. And to realise it's impacting me almost as much. His fists are twisting stiffly around the fitted sheet beneath us while his back almost arches off the mattress, and not thirty seconds into it he pulls the pillow out from under his head and clamps it down over his face.

"My fucking sister is in the next room," he explains before I can ask, his voice muffled but still clearly pained behind the material of it.

I'm careful not to be too rough, and not to go too fast, because despite his assurances, his skin is dragging up and down in my palm without any kind of lubrication and I'm worried I'm going to injure him. But then it's not as if his body isn't providing that for me. Alice once told me the male body is a marvel, and I'm slightly inclined to believe her. If I can get past how completely out of my comfort zone this is for me, though. It comes with being sheltered by one parent and continuously being pushed out of the nest by the other, but it's still the first time I've ever really felt my age.

Edward begins to shake—he's literally quaking—even as his body locks up more against me, and that handful of him I have in my palm actually starts twitching. And while he's making every effort to remain quiet, even as he forcefully muffles himself, he's losing the battle.

I've heard the sound of him punching the bag that hangs in the corner of his room numerous times in the past. It's the almost primitive noise that comes with effort and exertion, and backed up by a whole array of emotion. That's what he sounds like now, only it's heightened as if it's being drawn from deep within him.

He gasps, and groans—and almost cries—simultaneously, and releasing a hand he reaches out and grabs the shirt I'm wearing; yanking it from me and against him. His other hand drops from the pillow he held over his face, his breath shortened and pulling almost violently from his lungs behind it, and that's when I realise he's let go; literally and figuratively.

I loosen my grip around him but don't let him go; it's pounding even as it slowly shrinks back, and in sync with the rapid tempo of his heart.

"Bella..." he utters, out of breath and sounding slightly manic.

"Yeah?" I whisper, pressing my face against his damp, heated chest. I'm self-conscious all of a sudden, and I'm not sure why.

"You...have...no idea..." he attempts to speak, fighting to catch his breath. Shoving the pillow completely out of the way, he turns the both of us to the side. I slip from his chest, and releasing him, I wrap both my arms around his waist to anchor myself, "how long... I've needed that."

A/N: God, these two can talk. Hope you enjoyed.