Chapter Two
~Obsessive Compulsive Disorder~
It was starting to get a little ridiculous. Every day after my Physics class, I would go up to the coffee shop and wait. It was like returning to the scene of the crime, examining every face that walked by me with my nerves in my throat; I hoped for one more chance with her. It was so idiotic of me to be so consumed with this woman, this enigma, because I knew nothing about her. Didn't know her name, where she lived, or what she did for a living. All I knew was that I couldn't stop thinking about her. I would replay our small conversation over and over in my head. Pick apart her words, and decipher the pieces.
"No,"she'd said to me with conviction."You don't…trust me."
What was that supposed to mean? She told me that I didn't want to get to know her, but I was supposed to trust her? Well, if that wasn't an oxymoron, I didn't know what was, because you have to know someone to trust them. What also had me fucking reeling was that good kid shit…she didn't want to ruin me?
What?
The condescending tone she'd used was a little unsettling. I was no kid, by any means; I guaranteed one night with me and I would have her singing a different tune. It was so maddening; It was all I could think about, and I still had nothing concrete to hold onto. Our time together was brief. Like a snap of the fingers, a flick of a lighter, or an intense orgasm…it was done and gone.
But one fact still held true…she was a complete and utter mystery to me.
What had me so obsessed, though? Our time together was so fleeting and inconsequential, so why was I still thinking about her? Why did I come to the coffee shop at the same time every day to see if I could catch a glimpse of her? In the back of my mind, I tried to down play my actions and assure myself that I was only fixated with her because she blew me off—nobody blows off Edward Cullen. It'd angered me that some woman, some little nothing, higher than thou nobody, had the gall to turn me down.
I was treading on unfamiliar territory, and I was scrambling to find the reason for this fascination of mine. Perhaps if I hadn't been off my game like I was that day, which still fucking baffled me, I could've showed her my natural Cullen charm, taken her out to some restaurant, and eventually sealed the deal with her back at her place. I knew she would've of been putty in my hands…I was fucking irresistible.
If only I could get a chance to cross paths with her again...to have an opportunity to redeem myself from the fuckery I'd exhibited when we first met.
Nothing would make sense to me until I screwed her. It was the only way I knew how to clear my head. If I was to bust off a good nut while inside this woman, then I could continue on with my life. Of course after that, she wouldn't be such a mystery and I would eventually cast her aside like every other girl.
Maybe, I would keep her around like I do with Jessica and Lauren, I pondered studiously.
Fuck, I was such an asshole. These excuses I made for my actions were hard for me to swallow, and this compulsion of mine was starting to get a little sad and pathetic. Day in and day out, I sat my happy ass outside the coffee shop at ten-thirty every day, on the fucking dot, just waiting for her. My eyes would search the faces of random people who entered and exited the quaint establishment, just hoping that I would see her again. To an outsider, I might look like just another normal college kid, possibly relaxing between classes, completely self composed, and not at all bat shit crazy.
Yeah, I wished that was my deal. I wished that my mind wasn't such a chaotic mess. I needed to just forget about her and move on with my charmed life.
No, what I need is a quick and meaningless fuck…
When I wasn't actively stalking the coffee shop, I was helping Emmett move all his things into my two bedroom apartment. The beef that went down with his dorm mates was still a sore subject with him, and he refused to talk about it. Of course, I never pushed because I really didn't care. More often than not I would listen to people's sob stories just to be conversational, or on the rare cases, polite, but in all actuality, I'd rather talk about me. What was going on in my life, my problems. The topic never really mattered; it just had to involve me.
I was self involved, but everyone knew that because I never made that shit a secret. People knew where I stood…I didn't need to hide who I was. If they didn't like me, fuck `em. Don't want `em, don't need `em.
'No, you don't…trust me.' Her words echoed in my mind once again.
"So fucking stupid," I muttered, annoyed.
It was Thursday evening and Emmett was ninety percent of the way moved into my apartment. It was quite a sprawling bachelor pad for someone my age. In fact, someone in my financial status could only dream about affording a place of this magnitude, but I was lucky enough to have my parents paying my rent. It seemed like it could be a risk to them, but in all honesty, it was much cheaper than the dorms on campus. It saved them a shit load of money and spared me my sanity.
There was no way in hell I was going to be able put up with some random asshole for four years.
"Dude, you okay?" Emmett asked, interrupting my internal monologue.
I sat down one of his many boxes of XBOX games, looking at him perplexedly. Lately, it seemed as though I'd been walking through life completely unaware of my surroundings. Apparently, Emmett noticed.
"I'm fine," I answered distantly, waving him off.
He narrowed his eyes at me, "If you're not cool with me staying here, you can fucking tell me. I'm a big boy. I can take it."
What?
Emmett's words confused me because I had no idea where all this was coming from. He sat at the entrance of the door looking all butt hurt and shit, waiting for me to kick him out or something, but I had no intentions of doing that. It seemed he had misinterpreted my sour mood and thought it was about him.
How ironic…
Before I could stop myself, I was bent over laughing hysterically. Emmett had been my best friend since junior high, and I thought the asshole would've known me by now. Like I said, I was never the type to beat around the bush, if I didn't like something, I made that shit known.
That being said, I knew that a hard punch to my gut I was currently doubled over from was a typical Emmett response for laughing at him. He often wore his heart on his sleeve, but hated feeling vulnerable. So, my laughing at his confession was a mistake on my part.
Stumbling back from the blow, my back caught the edge of the dresser, stabbing me hard but effectively halting my fall. My eyes were watering from the pain, and I shot a cold glare in his direction. Even though it was expected, it still fucking pissed me off.
"God dammit, Em…that shit fucking hurt!" I shouted angrily.
"Well, you're such a douche sometimes," he yelled back, his fist clenched tightly at his sides.
"So what? Why did you sucker punch me like that? Fuck," I hissed.
Emmett was a big dude, and he could exert some pretty powerful strength. My stomach was aching, my cheeks were wet from my tears, and I was furious. Whatever happened to days when a gentle shove was just as effective? Why did he have to fucking punch me?
"I don't like people laughing at me, Edward," he seethed as he took a threatening step towards me.
Still clutching my stomach like a bitch, I threw up my hand to stop his advance. It was starting to get out of control between us, and the last thing I wanted to do was fight with him.
"I'm sorry, dude, but you misunderstood me," I explained.
"What do you mean?" he asked skeptically.
Finally, the pain decreased enough for me to stand upright. In my attempt to stop the situation from spiraling, I inadvertently put myself out there. Did I really want to confess to him what I'd been doing all week? It sounded crazy to me, how was an outsider going to take it? How was I going to feel when I finally admitted to it out loud? I doubted the lies I told myself would sound convincing after that. At least while my obsession was a secret, I could delude myself into thinking that I wasn't insane.
"What's going on up here," I said pointing my head, "has nothing to do with you."
"Okay, you're going to have to explain that to me," Emmett said stubbornly.
Fucking figures…
I sighed, "There's some shit going on since Monday that I've been trying to sort out." I paused as I saw his face fall. "It has nothing to do with you moving in, dude. In fact, you becoming my roommate is going to be kickass. It's the only thing that's keeping me sane right now."
He grinned like a buffoon at my words, and I couldn't help but grin as well, despite the fucking fact I was still alittle peeved that he sucker punched me. It was really hopeless, though, because he had such an infectious personality. A lot of people misjudged Emmett as a dumb jock, but he was so much more than that. The layers upon layers of character he showcased time after time still kept me in awe of him. He was intelligent, funny, and such an all around good guy. He was the only person who really put up with my ass, too.
"Well, what's going on then? I'm not used to this emo side of you…you're not cutting yourself, are you?" he asked in a hushed tone.
"What? Get the fuck out of here," I said laughing.
He shrugged, "How am I supposed to know? You're acting all weird. I mean, you've got to tell me what's going on. Are you gay?" he questioned seriously. "You know, I'm cool if you are."
I rolled my eyes at him, "Yeah, that would've been more convincing if you didn't just fucking take a hundred steps back away from me," he smiled sheepishly. I huffed. "No, douche, I'm not gay—or emo for that matter."
He looked at me expectantly.
"I'm just stressed out about finals. That fucking jackass Professor Grady is causing problems for me. Just a lot of stuff coming at me all at once, and I'm trying to play catch up," I lied smoothe, flawlessly.
So there it was—I had chickened out. The truth was at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't admit to it. It was going to be that way with me when it came to her. I was going to lie, fake, and deny any feelings I had. The feelings that disrupted my life and made me lie to my best friend.
In hindsight, I'd eventually discover that I was going to make a habit at being deceitful.
"Oh," Emmett replied lamely. "Well, you know what this calls for then, now don't you?"
"Expert sniper shot and a roof overlooking the campus," I answered sardonically.
Emmett chortled, "No, asshole. It's time to wild out and party."
"A party? That's your brilliant solution?" I scoffed.
"Fuck yeah! Beers, bitches, big screen TV's," Emmett started listing.
"Sounds like a rap song," I retorted.
"Thank you!" he said excitedly. "We'll throw it tomorrow night. It'll be like my house warming party."
I laughed, "Your house now, is it?"
"Yup," he said as he slapped me on the shoulder. "Now get out of my room, bitch!"
Friday night it seemed that I decided to have a little party for Emmett—sort of like a house warming gift—but what I really wanted to do was get fucking wasted. The week had been such a confusing time for me, and I wanted to get so intoxicated that I forgot what the fuck I'd been trying to hash out. More than that though, I needed to get laid—find some random chick to bury my dick in.
Luckily, I had lots of options to choose from. The word around campus about my party spread like wildfire in twenty-four hours, and now my house was filled with available women. The hottest chicks had showed up wearing short skirts and low-cut shirts…they knew what I liked.
It was a smorgasbord of sorts.
Taking my time to lay the pipe, I made it a point to socialize, especially with Jasper, Emmett, and his girlfriend Rosalie—who by the way, fucking hated me. It didn't matter what I said or what I did, she would glare at me with her penetrating blue eyes. It was like she smelled shit and it was coming from me.
Well, I can't say that the bitch wasn't perceptive.
"Give me another shot," I demanded as I slammed down the glass.
Jasper looked at me skeptically, "I think you ought to slow down, man."
"Give me another shot," I repeated, completely disregarding his warning.
"Let the idiot drink, Jazz. Maybe if he drinks himself into a coma, he'll spare these skanks of his diseased dick," Rosalie said like a bitch.
"Thank you," I mumbled gratefully. "Give me another one!"
"Nah, you're cut off. Go grab yourself a beer," Jasper said as he clutched the bottle of bourbon to his chest.
Fucking selfish.
"Fine," I huffed as I stood up. "I got a shit load of vodka in the freezer, so the jokes on you...you...lint licker!"
Stumbling into my small, but deserted kitchen, I started to feel a little woozy. The thousand shots I had consumed might not have been the brightest idea, but I needed a quick and efficient way to forget. My desperation knew no bounds because I really detested bourbon. It never sat well with me. The last time I went binging on such foulness was last year's spring break in Cancun…fuck, I think I puked up half of my insides that night. If I didn't get something else in my stomach, I knew I was headed for an epic repeat.
Opening the refrigerator door, I grabbed myself a beer. It was going to have to do for the time being, seeing that my options were limited, but I knew it still wasn't going to end well. Ignoring my internal blabber, I popped off the lid, and took a big swig. The coldness of the brew was a relief to my parched throat, and I was feeling better by the minute.
My mind was so focused on the sensation of the beer as it coated my stomach, that I hadn't heard her approach. It wasn't until I felt her hands gripping my dick that I realized I wasn't alone anymore.
The crass aggressiveness of this person made me think it could be one of two people. Since I hadn't seen Lauren, I assumed it was Jessica Stanley. Turning around, I gazed down into a pair of brown eyes. They were flat in color and I realized how disappointed I was. They weren't the rich brown I craved.
"Hey, Jess," I greeted unenthusiastically.
She jutted out her lip in a mock pout, "You're not happy to see me?"
She was a very cute girl. She had the blond hair that usually attracted me automatically. It was cropped short just below her chin, which I wasn't a fan of, but I overlooked it. To me, she was nothing but a good lay and I had no right to dictate how she kept her hair. It wasn't like I was her boyfriend.
"I missed you, baby," I lied as I started kissing along her jaw.
She threw her arms around my neck as she wrapped her leg around my waist, pulling my groin into hers. The feel of her was lacking excitement, but I was determined to get my dick wet. It was the only thing I could think of to get my wits about me. It was the only way to prove to myself that I wasn't insane or worse.
What's worse than being insane?
The answer to that question was too much for me to acknowledge, and I dismissed it immediately.
"You want to go to my room?" I asked seductively as I nibbled on her ear.
"Yeah," she panted.
I pulled away from her, grabbing her by the hand, and leading her towards my bedroom. The looks I got from my three friends as I passed them in the dining room were ones of disgust, but I ignored their judgment. This was who I was. I wasn't going to change for anybody, and if they didn't fucking like it then they could kiss my ass.
Kicking my door open with my foot, I spun Jessica effortlessly into my room, and tossed her onto my bed. As soon as I was in the bedroom, I shut the door behind me and locked it. Turning back to Jessica, I saw that she was laid spread eagle on my bed. My gaze wandered over her shapely form. The skirt she was wearing was hiked all the way up her thighs, and from my vantage point, I could see her green thong. She stared at me from under her hooded lids, waiting for me to take her, and I intended on doing just that.
I set my beer down on the dresser, waving to her with my free hand as I spoke gruffly, "You're a little over dressed."
She sat up on her elbows, her breasts nearly falling out of her shirt, which caused my dick to harden.
That's a boy…we can do this.
It wasn't smart of me to be as drunk as I was and still attempt to fuck the shit out of Jessica because it was a well known fact that alcohol and erections didn't mix, but luckily my cock was willing to get its tip moist. It was dark, but dim light from under the door seemed to illuminate my room enough for me to see that she was definitely ready.
I watched Jessica attentively as she removed her shirt, exposing her small, but respectable rack to me. Her nipples were a deep pink and hard as fuck. My cock was straining against my jeans as I pulled off my shirt, throwing it off to the side. She smiled at me coyly as she reached down to remove her boots, but I shook my head, causing her to halt her movements.
"Leave those on," I instructed.
She nodded, moving her hands up to her skirt.
"That too," I added.
She narrowed her eyes at me confused, unsure of my plans for her, but the moment I joined her on the bed, and slipped my hand between her soft thighs, I could see that she was on board with me, no matter what.
"Shit, Edward," Jessica hissed as I moved her green thong aside and slid my finger in between her wet lips.
Her panties were drenched with her arousal; it made my ministrations efficient and effortless. She moaned as I sucked on her ear, letting one of my fingers enter her pussy. She turned her head towards me, and I attacked her lips with an intensity I'd never experienced. It wasn't like I loved this girl—I could barely even stand her as a person—but this need of mine to just fuck somebody; to fuck her until all my frustrations disappeared was something I considered necessary.
My eyes snapped shut as I tried to focus all my concentration on the task at hand, but as soon as I did, a familiar but distant face appeared behind my lids. Suddenly, the girl from the coffee shop was lying naked in the forefront of my mind. Her dark chestnut hair flowing over her beautiful breasts. As my eyes roamed over her body hungrily, I watched in awe as she opened her legs for me, taking her delicate fingers and splaying her lips wide, showing me everything that I'd been salivating to see.
The imagery caused me to groan into Jessica's mouth. The feel of her tongue intermingling with mine, had me completely enthralled, but not with Jessica. I was spellbound with my own imagination as I conjured up the perfect woman...Ms. Right.
As soon as I imagined my mystery girl slipped two fingers inside of herself, I inserted another finger into Jessica congruently. The soft moans that were coming out of Jessica's mouth were now used as my mystery girl's moans, and god was she glorious.
The more I pumped vigorously into Jessica, the more my mystery girl worked her proficient hands. My mind's eye watched intently as she quivered under her own touch. She took her small hand, reaching up and grazed her perfect breast. She never broke her gaze from me as she pinched her own nipple, biting down hard on her plump bottom lip. She swirled her thumb around her clitoris, and I duplicated her movements. The sweat caused a slight sheen on her ivory skin.
She was magnificent. My dick twitched as she moaned my name. Her soft pink lips were all I could focus on as I ached to enrapture them. However, I did the next best thing as my lips crashed into Jessica's with a feverish need.
It was all too much for me, and as my mystery girl reached her peak, I felt Jessica's inner muscles start clench around my fingers, soaking them as she got closer to her climax. When she cried out with pleasure, so did my beautiful temptress with dark chocolate eyes.
Jessica twitched around my glistened fingers as I pumped more aggressively. She clutched onto me, biting my bottom lip as she gave in to her intense orgasm. All these sensations, mixed with the imagery of my mystery girl fingering self and the feel of Jessica's body, caused my dick to fucking explode as well.
I came fast and I came hard.
My head was in a complete fog as I tried to process what had just happened. Removing my saturated fingers from Jessica, I quickly realized that I fucking had an orgasm fingering a girl while imagining another girl masturbating.
Is that even healthy?
Abruptly, I pushed away from Jessica in disgust. The orgasm was so fucking good…it was the best I had ever experienced.
"You should go," I said coldly.
She blinked a couple times as she processed my words. She looked wounded and confused, but she had no idea what the fuck I was going through, and right now, I just wanted to be alone. It was too much for me to process with her here…staring at me.
Dammit! Why isn't she leaving?
"What's wrong? Did I do something?" she asked in a whiny voice.
I stood up angrily as I fetched her shirt and threw it at her. The conversation was grating on my nerves. My irritation had reached its peak. She was now becoming collateral damage.
"You got off, didn't you? Now, get your shit, and get out of my room," I growled.
She glared at me as she put her shirt back on and readjusted her thong. She started to scoot off my bed, but wasn't moving fast enough for me. I grabbed her roughly by the arm and helped her up the rest of the way. She jerked away from my grasp, hurt and anger clearly on her face.
"You're such an asshole," she hissed as she gathered her purse and stormed out of my room.
She slammed the door behind her and I exhaled. The music was still thumping outside my bedroom door, and I was grateful to be by myself. There was no way I was going to be able to be around people right now, especially since I'd just nutted in my boxers.
The exchange between Jessica and I was awkward, and I had no idea what the fuck just happened. The whole purpose of bringing her into my room was so I could forget about my mystery girl, but instead I ended up inviting her into my bed.
"Fuck," I groaned petulantly, grabbing my hair and pulling it at it harshly.
I unbuckled my jeans and stripped naked. I took my soiled boxers and threw them in the hamper. The night had officially been a fucking fail, and as I tumbled into my bed, I prayed for sleep to take me. But above all else, I hoped for the alcohol that flowed in my veins to bless me into a dreamless sleep because I feared that those chocolate brown eyes would follow me there…
"No, you don't…trust me."
