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Based On Lies



2. I Can't Help But Want You More

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Chapter 2

I Can't Help but Want You More

I was suddenly not feeling as hung over as before it was mostly replaced by anger. My headache was worse than before but I think it's from all the yelling. My stomach was feeling better since I threw up in his luggage. Serves him right. I know where I'm heading if my stomach starts to rumble again.

"I can't believe this!" I seethed, directing all my anger at Edward as I rushed around the room still looking for my clothes. "I said you could get me drunk and take advantage of me. I said nothing about getting me drunk enough to convince me to marry you!" I yelled at him as he began to dress. Must be nice to know where your clothes are.

This is bad. This is really bad. I’ve fucked up my entire life in one night. And I don’t even remember it. My dad’s going to kill me. I somehow managed to walk out of the bathroom, pushing Edward, my husband…oh god, that sounds so wrong! I wasn't planning on getting married ever, especially before the age of 30 and defiantly not to a total stranger. I gave up my search for clothes and collapsed onto the bed, massaging my temples gently. I really needed that aspirin to kick in now. And he needed to stop yelling. Wait, that was still me yelling. I must still be drunk. Or maybe it was all a bad dream. It has to be the worst nightmare ever.

I reached over to Edward and pinched him in the arm. "What was that for?" he shouted at me, massaging the spot where I got him.

"I really wanted this to be a bad dream so I was testing my theory. It failed."

"It doesn't work if you pinch someone else. How do you know if it really hurts or not?" he responds, looking at me like I'm an idiot. And maybe I am, that thought never crossed my mind.

I sit up in the bed. "You need to pinch me," I said, offering my arm to him.

"No," he refused.

"Pinch me so I can wake up from the awful nightmare," I practically begged him.

"No," he refused again.

"Please," I said offering him my best puppy dog eyes.

"Just do it!" I snapped and smacked him on the arm and continued to smack him on the arm until he finally pinched me. And it really fucking hurt! So much for my theory. "Owww, what did you do that for?"

"Because you asked me to," he shouted his response.

"Yeah, but not that hard. That's going to leave a bruise," I pouted. So much for the honeymoon phase, he just skipped right on ahead to spousal abuse. I threw myself back on the bed again. "I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life, but this…this will live on as the dumbest moment of my entire life."

"You should have thought of that last night. You know, before you proposed," he whined.

"This was so not my idea! I break out in hives just thinking about sustaining a relationship for over a month! Me? Propose? You’re out of your fucking mind!"

"Well, since your memory sucks." He rolled his eyes. "I’ll fill you in. We met. We drank. Came back to my place. We got naked. And might I say that you have amazing tits. I assume they’re real."

I nodded and smiled. I can still accept a compliment. "Thank you. I think they’re my best feature."

"I think you may be right. But back to the story. We got naked and fucked. It was great. You were fantastic. I like a very vocal woman. Not to mention an aggressive one too. And afterwards I can't make a direct quote but I believe your words were something like this… Fuck! It’s fucking Vegas!" He shouted imitating a drunk valley girl. "We can’t be lame and just fucking go to sleep after that. That's so fucking lame. I can do that at my local dive bar. Let’s get fucked up and do something stupid. Whoooooooooo!"

"I may have said lets get fucked up, but the rest just doesn’t sound like me." Who am I kidding? Yes, it does. "And that still has nothing to do with how we ended up getting married!" I deafened myself.

"That came after the second trip to the bar." He nodded as he took a seat on the bed once more. "More drinks. You made out with a girl, or two, I can’t remember the specifics. Puked on her boyfriend. Got me into a fight. I don't have a black eye do I?" he asked, pressing his fingers around his left eye. I shook my head as he continued. "We drank some more. Got us kicked out of the bar. We did some gambling and won quite a lot, I assume that's how you got that big rock on your finger. We were coming back to my place to celebrate but you saw the wedding chapel and…" He smiled. "Here’s another great quote from you, ‘What the fuck! Ya wanna’." He exaggerated the slur.

"Well, if all that’s true. You’re even dumber than me for, first of all, sticking with me all night long and secondly, for FUCKING SAYING YES!"

"Really? Think about this from a guy’s perspective. Say no, don’t get laid. Say yes, lots of sex."

"What kind of fucked up logic is that?"

"Drunk man logic," he explains.

"Well, it sucks!" I shout, trying desperately to find some kind of reason for all of this. "I would have probably slept with you anyway. I mean we already did it once-"

He shrugged. "Twice actually. And then again after the whole wedding debacle."

I ignored him and pushed on with my argument. "And even if I did turn the sex down, you could have said no and found another drunk girl to sleep with."

"But I already had you. And I enjoyed the sex the first time. And I made an investment in those drinks."

I rolled my eyes. "Buying another girl drinks would have been a hell of a lot cheaper than my new ring!"

"Yeah. That blows. I win big at the poker tables and I waste it on a bitch like you."

I cross my arms and don’t even bother to respond to that. We are way beyond calling each other names. "And let me be honest. That is not what I’m like all the time."

"Could have fooled me. You had some pretty advanced moves last night." He gave me his crooked smile that I loved so much. He was really trying to get to me. And it was working. My blood was boiling.

I tried my best to ignore him and continued with my rant. I began to pace the room. "That was just me being young and impulsive and stupid. Damn the sexual revolution. Damn Freud. Damn my healthy sexual appetite."

"Healthy?" He raised his eyebrow and stood.

"A little aggressive, But who said women can't enjoy sex? I'm not ashamed. I'll admit it. I like sex. That doesn't make me a whore."

"Great, I got a woman’s lib freak." He rolled his eyes. "And I didn’t say you were a whore."

I shrug. "You kind of did."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Then I apologize. But can you blame me for making the assumption. We knew each other a total of two minutes before you agreed to have sex with me."

God he was infuriating. "Fuck me!" I threw my head back and cursed.

"We already established that I did. Several times." He placed his hands in his pockets with a shrug.

"Still not funny." I shook my head. "Damn alcohol. And damn your fucking hotness!"

He laughed. "And my amazing sexual prowess in bed," he added.

"Fuck you!" I shouted again. It’s really not making me feel better. It usually does. Get really angry. Yell and curse a lot. That always works! But now that it doesn’t, it blows. And I don’t like it. I am a creature that is sustained off of instant gratification. Plan A must work because I don’t think he’s ready for plan B yet. "And don’t flatter yourself. If you were that good, or even above average at all, my memory wouldn’t have sucked as much. So just yeah… Fuck you and your mediocre prowess in bed!" Great point. But it still isn’t making me feel better.

"Well fuck you too!" he countered. "For being young and hot and available and for inviting me to get you drunk and take advantage of you. Who says that? Of course I'm going to take you up on it! I'm a guy."

"Fuck you for saying yes!" And so began the great 'fuck you' battle of Vegas. But at least it was helping me to feel a little better. "Chivalry really is dead. What guy takes advantage of a girl like that? Sexual predators that's who. Are you a registered sex offender? Because you should be."

He rolled his eyes at my dramatics but I could see the anger behind his green eyes. I was making him just as mad as he was making me. "Fuck you for asking me to marry you!"

"Fuck you for getting me drunk!"

"Fuck you for asking me to!"

"Fuck you for approaching me in the bar!"

"Fuck you for being there!"

I inhaled sharply then continued. "Now that is just ridiculous." I sat on the bed and throw myself back. Plan A sucks. I’m ready for plan B. "Fuck me!"

"Stop fucking whining! It sucks for me too." He leaned against the wall.

"That wasn’t a whine." I furrowed my brow and pursed my lips. He’s so far from being ready for plan B. But what the hell, he was up for last night and this is way more in the realm of normal. "That was a request," I stated simply with a slight shrug of the shoulders. Be nonchalant and maybe it won’t scare him as much.

Edward jumped forward. "Excuse me?"

I sat up and took a deep breath, trying to put on my cutest face. But I’m sure it was a lost cause. I night of heavy drinking and a lot of sex never reads well on a girls face. Not to mention that little issue of all the beer and vomiting in the luggage. "When I argue with a member of the opposite sex," I began to explain with a playful smile on my face. "One of two things happen. Option A. Violence erupts and someone gets a fun ride to the hospital in an ambulance. And I’ll give you a hint…It’ll be you. Only happened to me once. Total fluke. I slipped before I was able to inflict any damage on the guy but I digress. Or option B. You shut the fuck up and fuck me."

"There isn’t an option C?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Are you really going to turn down sex?" We paused for a moment.

"That was really weird," he whispered. "I've never done that before. Ask me again."

"Are you ready to shut the fuck up and fuck me?" I tried again but this time with a little hint of anger. I am not known for my patience and this usually happens much faster.

"Yes!" He shouted flashing me his famous crooked grin. "Yes, I would love to have sex with you!"

"Thank God!" I celebrated. "Option B is so worth it for both of us. Have you ever had angry hate fighting sex?"

"No." He shook his head.

"You’ll love it!" I shouted as I dropped my sheet. So glad I didn't get redressed. "Now get naked. This is going to go fast."

I watched as he stripped off his T-shirt, I shook my head disapprovingly. Way too slow for me. If we didn't speed this up then we were going to miss the option B window and just go right back to option A. So that was my cue to intervene. If undressing a man were an Olympic sport, I think I would be guaranteed a gold. A simple flick of the wrist and the belt is undone, let gravity do the rest, push on his chest just enough to make him collapse onto the bed and I straddled him and I focused my lips onto his. It took a second for him to react. Rookie.

I reached my hand between his legs and I felt his muscles tighten unexpectedly. But he was a fast learner. He reacted quickly, finally understanding what I said about it going fast. Option B is amazing but only has a small window of opportunity that you don't want to miss. And when I'm promised sex and I don't get it I get really cranky. My fingers massaged him for a moment before he flipped me onto my back. I do believe he finally got it. His hands cupped at my breasts, fingers twisting at the nipples just enough to entice a moan from deep in my throat. His tongue traced expertly over my flesh for a instant before we both decided that for the moment foreplay was overrated and we got down to business. And I quickly learned that I was lying before, he was far better in bed than just average. I think I'm going to promote him to the top of the ranking with the title 'The God of option B', a very rare prestige that has not been given out before.

And as most angry sex romps went, we were both in a never ending battle for dominance. We were nothing more than a fast moving jumble of limbs and sounds. And just when it was about to get really good, the door swings open. I was so wrapped up in the moment that I didn't notice. Unfortunately Edward did and he sat up quickly and threw me off of him and I fell very ungracefully to the floor with a very loud thud. Edward reacted so quickly that he may have been able to fool the interrupter into believing he was alone, but the dumb ass pushed me off the bed facing the door. I don’t make much of an effort to cover myself. I’m more interested in revenge. I stood, faced the bed and slapped Edward before taking the sheet from the bed and wrapping myself in it. "Fucking asshole!" I cursed at him. "Who the fuck does that?"

"Sorry," the blond man said between shocked chuckles. "I'll just let you two finish," he said as he backed out the door, letting it slam behind him.

"Don’t you lock your door?" I shouted sitting back on the bed.

"He has a key." He nodded.

We both take a moment to regroup before I turn to him and shrug. "So are you ready to go again?" I asked, still breathless as I dropped the sheet. His response was a blank stare. "Well, sure the anger has seemed to pass between us, at least for the moment, so it’s not going to be the fun angry sex. But I’m still up for just some regular morning after sex." He still didn't respond. "It was going so well," I whined. The last comment seemed a little more desperate than I would have liked it too. "And for the record, I get really bitchy in situations like these. I get all psyched for the sex and then…disappointment. Well, not like you were bad, disappointing. Like, you were really good and I wanted to finish and didn’t so... disappointing." I’m rambling! "And just in case we’re ever in that situation again, I’m all up for ignoring the distraction and working through it. It may be creepy if he watches but I think the end will be well worth it."

He took a sharp breath in and fell back onto the bed. "What the fuck did I get myself into."

"You?" I shouted. I’m getting angry again. "What about me?"

"Oh of course, how could I forget. The world revolves around you. You’re the only one this sucks for."

"Well, yeah! Like it or not we’re both fucked! We made a huge mistake and I’m willing to admit that. But Jesus, at least I’m being a little more flexible about it."

He glared at me intently. "And by flexible you mean, you’re willing to have sex with me."

"No." I shook my head and get to my feet ready to resume the search for my clothes. "I don’t want to have sex with a pussy like you. I want a fucking divorce!"

"Well, fucking good! At least we can agree on that!" He screamed at me and throws a T-shirt and sweat pants in my direction. "Just take it and fucking get out!"

"Gladly." I dressed in his oversized clothes quickly and considered throwing the ring at him to make my final point but it looked really nice, all shiny and sparkly and expensive so I decided to keep it. But I did decide to hurl more insults at him. "So glad your boyfriend interrupted us. Having sex with you any more would have been the second dumbest thing I’ve ever done! You know at the bar, when we first met and you asked me about my most embarrassing moment? Well, I changed my mind. This is just about the only moment of my life that I would say I am legitimately embarrassed. Why the fuck did I ever get involved with you?"

"Real fucking mature," he shouts his rebuttal. When he gets angry you can see a vein in his neck throb and he throws his arms around a lot. It actually makes him pretty funny looking. But still in a disturbingly hot way. "Just shut your fucking mouth and get out of my room. I don’t want to see your face or your tits again!"

"I thought you liked my tits," I teased, stepping closer to him taunting him more.

"I don’t care about you or your tits anymore." He closed the distance between us. "I will call my lawyer figure out this whole divorce thing and we’ll never have to fucking speak to each other again."

I took the final step, are bodies were close enough to feel each other’s heat. "That moment can’t come soon enough." I stood on my tiptoes to get my face right in his. "I fucking can’t stand you," I spoke slowly allowing each word to roll off my tongue with purpose.

"I can't stand you more!"

I wasn't going to give up. I'm a girl that likes to get the last word in. "I fucking hate you."

He pressed his forehead against mine. "I fucking hate you too." With his last word, I could feel his lips gently brush mine. We stood a moment letting our anger stew as we stared into each others eyes. And suddenly we both realized that option B was back on the table. His hands gripped at my waist and pulled me in even closer, his lips came to mine with a bruising force. He untied the drawstring of the sweats I had on and let them fall to the floor as he backed me up against the wall. He didn’t even bother to mess with my shirt. He just lifted me up and let our hips collide with a devastatingly good force.

If I thought our first attempt at sober sex was good, this blew that out of the water. With every crash of our hips a wave of ecstasy coursing through my blood. Again we were interrupted, but this time he didn’t take notice. He kept me pinned against the wall, dominating my body in the best way I have ever known. I clung to him, molding my body against his, needing to feel his body all over mine. And when we were both finally completely spent my body slowly slid down the wall into his arms. I stared into his green eyes, desperately seeking air, not able to find any words. So I settled on a string on unintelligible sounds. And Edward nodded his head in agreement.

After a few more minutes pass I finally broke the silence. "So were do we go from here?"

"Well, I guess there is only one thing left to do." He rubbed the sweat from his face and stared up at the white ceiling as if it’s going to undo this mess for us. "Get a divorce. Irreconcilable differences. If we talk any longer, I’m sure we could find some. That is if we could stop fucking each other long enough to do any talking."

I nodded in agreement. He was right on both counts. I rested my head on his shoulders as I tried to collect my thoughts. I heard a ringing from below the bed and finally figured out where my pants were. I did a quick maneuver and managed to fish my phone out from the pocket of my pants. Please do not be my father. I closed my eyes and prayed for the best as I flipped my cell open. "There better be a damn good explanation on why you aren’t in the fucking room. Like, you need to be near death. Like, seriously, I hope I am talking to the man who has kidnapped my best friend and is about to chop her into tiny little pieces and bake it into some kind of nasty pie. And if you are that guy, please don’t. She might be annoying and I might hate her very much right now but overall, I love her very much and need her. So what is it?" Rose finally concluded her rant.

"I love you too," I squeaked, chewing on the tip of my nail.

"Fuck, Bella! You had me worried!"

"Well, I wanted to give you and Mr. Football plenty of time…"

There is an exasperated grunt from Rose. "Have you looked at a clock recently?"

No. And it is a horrible sign when Rose thinks it's late. "No," I admitted sheepishly.

"Get your ass back here," she demanded and hung up on me.

I turned towards Edward and grin with a small bat of my eyelashes. "I have to go."

"Yeah." He nodded slowly. "I’ve got a lot of stuff to do. Divorce papers to file. Shower. The usual."

I nodded with him. "Yeah, me too." There was an awkward moment of silence. What could you tell someone that you knew so little about but have been so overwhelmingly intimate with. "Well, it was nice…spending time with you," I spoke slowly, trying to figure out what should come next. Handshake? Too informal. Hug? Too awkward. I know, we had sex. A lot of it if I understand correctly. But that just seems a little too weird for me. So I settle with a small kiss. And that was even more awkward than a hug would have be. I grimaced and saw that he did the same. I mean, this was horrific. I’ve made out with Rose and there has been more passion than that. Not that I was going for passion, but it was like…there are no words to describe it. It was just that awful. "We can have great sex but the kissing needs a bit of work."

He nodded. "I guess it's true when they say a marriage takes away all the passion in a romance."

"So…" I shrugged and rested my hands in my pockets.

"I’ve got a free afternoon. I’ll call my lawyer and figure stuff out," he explained. "Then that would be that."

"Sounds good." I nodded. "Then I guess I’ll talk to you later." There is a soft knock on the door.

"You guys better be done this time because I’m coming in," a voice shouted as the man from before appeared in the room.

"Bella, Jasper. Jasper, Bella." Edward quickly introduced us. Jasper nodded at me and I excused myself and quickly ran up to my floor. I paused before walking down the long corridor. I looked at my ring and sighed. How did I get myself into this mess? I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I liked to drink myself into oblivion and do dumb things for fun. And I’m sure it couldn’t have been my fault at all, because it’s not like I make stupid decisions everyday of my life. But that was a first. I’d never been married before. It's so messed up.

I reached my room and Rose didn't even wait for me to fish out the key. "What the fuck took you so long?" she cursed and pulled me into the room. "Oh my god, Bella. You've got a serious case of the sex hair going on. Like worst I've ever seen." She reached her hands out and tried to flatten my wild hair. "You didn't even try to hide it with a shower or even a hair brush." She grimaced. "But it just tells me that this is going to be a good story."

I paused, furrowing my brow slightly. I’m not usually speechless but in that moment, I was. How would I even begin to describe what transpired the night before? "It’s a long story." Seems like a good way to wrap it up. "I’d really like to hear more about your night first though."

"Met a guy. Had sex. It was a little over average. I hope his skills on the field are better than the ones in bed or he’s fucked. We had sex again. It was much better. Turns out he sucks at drunk fucking. Then he left. How about you?"

"Similar pattern." I nodded. She raised an eyebrow, her way of letting me know that, that wasn't going to cut it. I exhaled heavily. "I don’t think you’d believe me even if I told you." And my mind is on other things like being married and if I'd been remembering to take my pill every morning.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried a different approach. "Well, I’m sure you could explain it to your dad. He’s only called a million times."

The color drained from my face as I lowered myself onto the bed. I’m fucked. "What did you tell him?" See, my father being the chief of police in a small town did not think that his young daughter was ready for a trip to Vegas. And I guess he was right. So I lied. It only took me ten minutes of Internet research to find an acceptable excuse, a habitat for humanity build a few miles out of Vegas. I had to do some for lying to get him to believe that Rosalie was going to be building a house but in the end, he bought it.

"That the build was going great." She shrugged. "We were way ahead of schedule and that you made some new friends and were out do-gooding with them or whatever he excepts you to be doing."

I sighed a heavy breath of relief. "Have I ever told you just how much I love you?"

Rose sat beside me and wrapped her arms around me. "And for that, you owe me every single detail. After you call your dad."

I reluctantly smiled. I have no choice. I dialed my father. It was a brief call. I assured him that I wasn’t dead. The retreat was going wonderfully. Yes, I made some awesome new friends and we had coffee and that as clumsy as I was I was pretty decent with a hammer.

"Now spill," Rosalie insisted. I buried my head in my hands, wiggling my left ring finger for emphasis. "Oh my god!" she shouted, grabbing my hand and inspecting my jewelry. "You’re night was so much more fun than mine!"

"Don’t be jealous." I shook my head and sneered.

I sighed a heavy breath of relief. "Have I ever told you just how much I love you?"

Rose sat beside me and wrapped her arms around me. "And for that, you owe me every single detail. After you call your dad."

I reluctantly smiled. I have no choice. I dialed my father. It was a brief call. I assured him that I wasn’t dead. The retreat was going wonderfully. Yes, I made some awesome new friends and we had coffee and that as clumsy as I was I was pretty decent with a hammer.

"Now spill," Rosalie insisted. I burried my head in my hands, wiggling my left ring finger for emphasis. "Oh my god!" she shouted, grabbing my hand and inspecting my jewelry. "You’re night was so much more fun than mine!"

"Don’t be jealous." I shook my head and sneered.