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0. . . oO•.o.Hot Bubblegum.o.•Oo . . .0
Chapter 21
*\o\Edward
Masen Cullen/o/*
"Wow," she breathed as I brushed my hand across her
sweat-covered brow. My cock was beginning to soften, and the condom was
starting to become uncomfortable.
"Wow," I agreed with a lazy grin before pulling out of her,
wincing at the loss of warmth. I fucking hated condoms, but they were a
necessity if I was going to have sex with girls I barely knew. Maybe my
discomfort was a sign that I needed to be with a nice girl - the same girl more
than once - someone I could trust, instead of the random one night stand I had
every couple of months or whenever the thought of using my hand felt too
pathetic and unbearable.
"I'll be right back - I just need to... clean up," I explained
before walking to the bathroom, deliberately restraining myself from whistling
a happy fucking tune.
.
.
When I finished, I saw she was sitting on the couch, staring
distractedly at the floor, naked, using my t-shirt like a blanket.
Fuck - I
thought worriedly, Bella was probably freezing her tits off, which was
beginning to make me feel pretty shitty that I fucked her here, a place with
very few basic amenities, like blankets... or a bed.
Now that the moment was over, she probably thought I was biggest asshole
ever.
"You want to get out of here? We could go back to my place. You
could spend the night if you want," I asked, rambling nervously.
What the hell was wrong with me?
She looked up at me, her eyes wide and anxious.
Shit -
she's gonna say no.
"Umm... I really want to, but I think I actually need to get home
soon," she replied, looking away.
Great. Just
fucking great.
Did I do something wrong? Of course I did - I fucked a sweet young girl
on a worn out couch in the back of a tattoo parlor.
Smooth
move, Casanova. I bet she runs and tells all her friends about the horny pig at
Blue Rose.
Fuck.
I didn't want to push her any more than I already had, so I nodded,
hoping that I looked impassive rather than hurt.
Why did I feel hurt anyway?
Besides, wasn't I usually the one pushing away, trying to get the girl
to leave after we finished?
Obviously, I wasn't done with Bella. I wanted her more than once.
Maybe she didn't want me...
It was ridiculous how much that idea physically stung. Just the thought
of not having her again made my chest ache.
"Can I get your number? I mean... I had a great time, and I'd like
to see you again," I told her sincerely, hoping that maybe she hadn't lost
interest in me, that maybe she really did lose track of time and needed to get
home.
"I want to, Edward. I really do, but maybe it's best if we just
don't... I don't know," she said, looking away from me. Her voice was sad,
and I couldn't help but get closer to her. The need to comfort her overpowered
my sense of self-preservation.
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