Authors Note: This piece was written for the "Love Through Lemons" Contest hosted by tby789 and LolaShoes. This surprising little story popped out of my head in part while semi-conscious in the middle of one night after reading too much ff and then was midwifed by sinandshame who is the wind beneath my wings. Warning; it's not what you or I expected from this contest, nevertheless it belongs to you because you inspired it. I like to think of Lolashoes and tby789 as the sperm donors and I am giving the resulting baby back. Please find it a good home. It was never mine.

This story is fiction. No copyright infringement intended. It is intended only for a mature audience.


It's all going down.

Shit's going down now.

If ever Bella was sure that her heretofore miserable existence was going to crystallize into a moment of clarity, that shit was now.

"Hold this."

So she did.

It was long and hard and cold.

She ran her thumb along it's smooth underbelly until she met the swollen center of it's power. The point of pain. The propellant.

Being inexperienced, Bella didn't have the words to describe what she was seeing and feeling and she made a conscious decision to merely experience this and contemplate consequences later.

She was excited and the realization made her feel a patch of dampness between her thighs.

It's weight versus girth alone made her wonder how he did it. Walk around with something like that in his pants, rubbing a leg, refusing to bend at the most inopportune moment. Knowing it was there.

She wondered how he could think straight.

She had seen him adjusting it many times, in public, glancing around to see who had noticed. She watched him closely when she thought he spied someone who did. He would smirk. That smirky smirk, like he enjoyed that someone had caught him. He could be voyeuristic that way. Inhaling the danger. Watching the watchers.

Adjusting and leaning left, he was left handed you see, she wondered at the connection. The physical connection between that left lean and handedness. And was he handy!

She snorted to herself, amused at her own puerile thoughts. It didn't take much to entertain her these days. She could think of nothing else. He consumed her and she invited that. She had been given no guarantees, no declarations, no promises and yet she was here.

Holding his tool.

However she came to be sitting in this car was of little consequence now because the very fact that she had not bailed meant something to him. Didn't it?

It did to her.

Well, no matter, she had decided long ago that you get what you settle for and if you want something you just have to grab the bull by it's horns, or was it, if you want something done, do it your self?

In any case, it was difficult to think with her hands around it's weighty mass, holding it erect. Waiting for an indication that he wanted more.

And how to go about the thing.

It was difficult to say because she couldn't see his eyes. His face was hooded and averted. Bella tried not to feel that it was a slight. He was in deep concentration and she could completely relate to the need to block everything out and focus on the job at hand. Keep things moving until you found that tiny center, or key to the whole operation, or the way to the winnings.

"Eureka! That's it. That's it Baby. Come to me now. Bring it on home."

Bella could feel it the moment he had reached his goal. His relief was palpable. She had heard that familiar grunt of satisfaction he always made when he practiced at home. She tried very hard not to seem put out, but it still left her feeling a little…empty. Left out. Wondering if it mattered if she was here or not. If it mattered that it was her, not someone else.

When he could just do it by himself.

Bella didn't know any other way to show him. That's why she was here now.

Suddenly his face was beside hers, a trickle of liquid snaking down his temple, panting, eyes wild. She removed her hands and he accepted it back with reverence, like it was his most precious possession or something. It made her incredibly jealous.

Bella regarded him and without saying a word, he brought his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her close and whispering in her ear.

"I think we just hit the mother load!"

Of course.

It would seem that she had fulfilled her role and as he hurriedly started the car and pulled out almost recklessly into traffic, performing a shoulder check Mr. Banner would have been proud to witness, that this was how it would always be.

Edward and Bella, Always running, forever hunted. Never satisfied. Perpetually disappointed.

He let out a " Whoooeeeee!" and flicked her a wad of greenbacks, smelling metalic and old.

"Who's your Daddy?" She meted out her most Bella smile.

"How did I do, Baby?" Bella looked at him with the earnestness of an adoptable dog. Waiting.

Distracted, he changed lanes and flicked a look in her direction and then again as if he had misheard her.

"You're kidding right?"

"This is the getaway car and you're not even driving. I'll share the goods of course. If you behave.

I did this, darlin' it was all me. Cullen. Cullen the Sly."

He thumped the stethoscope on his chest. The one that helped him hear the metallic clicks. The one that she liked to fantasize him wearing as a doctor. With a lab coat, and the dinner she would pack him in a brown paper bag. For the long shifts at the hospital instead of at the bank.

With the same clarity that she knew she would follow him any where, off a cliff, she realized that this was the end of the road. This is all there is. He could never feel about her the way she sacrificed for him.

And it did matter that it was him.

To her.

She didn't want any one else, and would never belong to anyone else. Her CD had been written and it couldn't be rewrote.

Without the adventure there is no B and C. And B could be replaced with any old A or D or G.

She leaned in closer and took a long languid lick of the salt-Edwardness of his neck. She nipped his ear and watched his eyes flicker as his cock rose to the occasion in his pants. In the split second his eyes left the road she gripped the wheel and jerked. Hard.

After breaching the guardrail the silence was utterly surprising. Even the engine made no complaint. Tires spinning soundless on an absent road.

His surprise seemed to freeze the expression of confusion and lust in his mossy green eyes, flecked with gold at the edges, pupils dilated like they were last night when he had inhaled a line from her breast, licking her tingling nipple in greed.

Not for her, the drug.

Bella thought to herself that this look suited him, because she so rarely had the upper hand.

She seized her moment and took his face in her hands, his were still gripping the wheel, and kissed him. Tossing the fucking gun out the window, it succumbed to gravity, obeying the first law since it's serial's erasure.

She wanted to be the last thing he remembered, even if she couldn't be the first.

Thank you for reading. Kindly review and let me know what you think. Good Bad or Ugly.