Don't Look / No Promises

Seven

Bella

He showed up at the perfect time.

Right when she was finished with her lipstick, pale peach this time. Right when her father had finished berating her about her messy room and her short skirt and her forgotten books. Right when she’d pulled on a shirt and pulled up her skirt and fastened it all together. The roar in the driveway was unmistakable. She could feel it in the ball of her foot, the grumble of that beast underneath it, and ran to the window.

It was the Bird.

Alive. Breathing. Belching in the driveway and he was standing beside it, hand on the roof and that fucking smirk on his face like yeah I did it, and here I am, so come and get me.

She flew down the steps. Blew past her father and his questions and she ran all the way to the car, flinging herself up against the door with a grin on her face that she just couldn’t keep to herself.

“You did it!”

“I did. I keep my promises.” He winked at her and ducked into the driver’s seat, pulling her inside and taking off before she even had the door closed. He had his hand on her leg and cigarette between his lips and a wicked smirk on his face like he had something planned.

“Where are we going?”

“Right now, I’m just driving.” He squeezed her leg. “Later, I’ll find somewhere to stop for a while but, right now, I gotta just feel this, ok?” He put both hands on the wheel and straightened his arms, flexing his fingers.

“Just drive then,” Bella said, kicking her sandals off and putting her feet on the dash, letting her hair blow out the window and her arm reach across the seat all the way to Edward, fingers twisted up in the hem of his shirt. He smiled at her. A real one. Not a sexy one or a cocky one or the one he used when he was sweet-talking her. Just a smile. Pure and plain and simple and she was kind of spun on this boy and the way he manhandled the car. Palmed the gear shift and stroked the gas. Urged the beast into a coast, the one that felt like floating, and Bella threw her head back to let the wind kiss her face. She was so stuck there, wild and lost, that she forgot where she was until he was pulling to a stop in a wide grassy field.

Edward threw the key and the beast churned to a stop. He tugged a flask from his back pocket and spun the top open.

“It smokes, but does it drink?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” Bella nodded, taking the flask and a solid swig.

Edward took the flask back and drained a mouthful. “Ever shoot a gun?” he asked.

“No.”

“Wanna?”

Bella nodded her head eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly. He gave her a worried look and she hopped out of the cab, watching in fascination as he opened the trunk and laid out his weaponry in the grass. He gave her ear plugs and lessons on bullets, calibers, loading and safeties, how to not lock your shoulders too tight or your knees too much because it needed nothing except a gentle touch. A breath let free and then a squeeze. Both eyes open.

“I want to shoot that one.” She pointed out a big thick black one, one that looked imposing and serious and was far bigger than anything he’d let her get her hands on yet.

“No fucking way. That’ll knock you right on your ass, doll. I ain’t taking any chances.”

“But that’s the one I want.”

“Can’t kiss you if your mouth is busted up.” He smirked at her.

“Is that your plan?”

“That’s the beginning of it.”

---

Edward

He was buzzed. Maybe it was the sunshine, the heat or the late afternoon spin or the sexpot with a pistol in her hand, but he was drunk. Mouth watering and fingers itching and she was baring her shoulders and her good aim. Picking it up too fast for his liking. Looking downright deviant with that Mag in her hands and her legs spread wide to keep her footing. Edward took the gun after she unloaded it into a far off target. Tossed it aside, empty now anyway. He pushed her all the way up the to trunk of the car and slammed it closed.

“The things I want to do to you,” he panted.

“Tell me.” Her palms hit the metal, bumper hit her knees.

“You’ll run. Screaming.”

“I don’t scream.”

“You wanna bet?”  

He nudged her feet apart before he dropped to his knees between them. Tossed her skirt and groaned. “You girls and these fucking ridiculous panties,” he grumbled. Bella wiggled her ass at him, wrapped in blush colored lace, cut high and deep and, fuck him, he moaned right into the soft wet spot there between her thighs. She squealed and wiggled some more and he had two hands on her trying to keep her still but she was impossible.

“Keep still,” he mumbled.

I can’t believe you’re-” she gasped, his fingers prying aside the lace and his face burying into her. “I can’t-”

Edward palmed her ass cheek and pulled it aside, wrenching his face away to get a good glimpse and, fuck him, it exceeded every expectation. Just pink and wet and dark damp curls and he went back in for more, tongue intent on making her break her no-screaming statement.  

“You can,” he said, lips to her crotch and his fingers slipping in behind.

She lifted a foot off the ground, toe to the bumper, angling herself higher and he lurched onto his knees, following, always following, her thighs starting to shake around his cheeks. He let her hips go long enough to fumble with his belt, his fly, his briefs, his cock pulled free. He was stiff, achingly stiff, and it was her fault. Her look and her taste and her moaning which was progressively getting louder. Her skin and her softness and her soft flesh between his teeth . . .

He spilled his load into the dirt between his knees and when he dropped her off at home, her voice was still hoarse.

“My dad’s gonna smell the guns on me,” she rasped.

“Probably.” Guy was a cop, after all. “But he should’ve taught you by now. Every girl should know how to protect herself.”

“That’s why I wear a big ring.” Bella held a fist out toward him, a giant ring with a big plastic rock sitting heavy on her finger and yeah, she could probably break someone’s nose with it, or take out an eye. “Rose says that every girl needs a big ring in case she needs to punch someone.”

“You planning on punching me, doll?”

“Not unless you deserve it.” She winked at him, which was his move, and waggled her ass at him clear up to the front door of her house.

He watched her all the way.

Next

AN: Hadley Hemingway is my rock. I am probably her hard place. ;)