"That was fun." She finally breaks the comfortable silence while she watches me work, wrapping one stand of wet hair around her finger over and over again.
"You think?" I grin, then brush my thumb over her clit, making her inhale sharply. I chuckle when I realize just how aroused she still is, but abandon teasing her soon after. She doesn't even glare at me, making it obvious just how much she's still in her role.
When I'm done, I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom where Jazz is waiting for us, about as tired as Bella but a lot less strung out. He scoots over when I put her down onto the mattress, then pulls her to him and I crawl under the covers to join them. Like the last time we ended up here together, Bella is content to find herself between us, laughing softly when I nibble on the side of her neck.
Jazz watches us for awhile before he clears his throat, drawing our attention back to him.
"That was unexpected, but I can't say I feel like complaining."
"Well, good for you!" Bella huffs, already sounding a lot more like her usual self. It's funny to watch her use him to pull herself back together, although part of me resents that she feels the need to do so.
"So you'll do it again?" I want to know.
Jazz hesitates but then nods, although a slight frown remains on his forehead.
"If you ditch the cane completely next time, okay." Bella must have made a face for he backtracks almost immediately, adding a quick, "When it comes to my ass, I mean, feel free to work her over as much as she wants."
"Now why does that still sound like you're trying to convince yourself you're okay with that?" I remark dryly, getting a hard look from him in return that somehow amuses me even more.
"Hey, I'm trying, can't teach a dog new tricks overnight! But I have to admit, watching your face light up with intensity while you were making her scream and writhe was a lot more of a turn-on than I expected."
I hadn't even noticed that he was watching me, but stranger things have happened, and his observation leaves me smiling back at him.
"So you won't run the next time if I'm getting out the heavy guns?"
Now he's looking properly cowed.
"Uh, this wasn't what you consider, ah, heavy?"
I don't even have to answer; Bella does it for me when she starts to laugh, rocking us both with the motion of it.
"Are you serious? Jazz, this wasn't really that much more than we did last spring in the woods! Okay, this time you were on the receiving side of things, too, but Edward didn't really hurt me. Sure I might have groaned and grunted a little, and shouted a few times, but that's nothing. Look at my ass, I don't even have any real marks!"
Jazz seems stunned at her revelation, then actually checks her butt, only finding a residual reddening of the skin but not a single welt that survived long enough to still show.
"Happy now?" she asks, still laughing, before she curls into my embrace again.
"I guess. It just seemed more vicious while it was happening."
"That's part of the game as we play it," I admit, amused by how long it takes him to discern reality from acting.
"Although some parts of it were pretty rough. Like when you were trying to shove me right through the floor while you were fucking me. It's funny that you were all about trying to lend strength to me when Edward went a little enthusiastic with the cane, but you didn't seem to realize just what problems you were causing with your own body weight."
Jazz looks downright guilty at hearing that, a clear admission that she's right in her assessment, but before Bella can drive the point home, I interject to put them both more at ease again.
"That's why it was my call to stop it or let you go on. Getting caught up in the moment happens to everyone, but if you let it happen, you better make sure beforehand that you won't injure your partner for real, or that someone is close by to keep track of what's going on with you. There's a reason why you need to learn things from me."
Bella nods, a little sheepish at her previous words, then adds, "Plus, it's kind of a huge advantage to have someone handy who can drive me crazy with his tongue on my clit so you can beat my ass soundly without having to stop to do that whole pesky jerking me off yourself. Must be so much easier this way."
"So you think it's easier to be in control of two people at the same time compared to just one?"
She huffs, her eyes taking on that playful glint that makes it obvious that she's up to something.
"Maybe not easier, but it can't be that hard."
"Why don't you try it yourself then?"
As the words leave my lips I realize that must have been her goal from the start.
"What a great idea, and coming so out of the blue!" she simpers, then laughs when first I, then Jazz, look quizzically at her. "What, are you afraid I'm going to take revenge on you?"
"The thought might have crossed my mind," Jazz admitted, making her laugh a little wickedly.
"We'll see. It's not like a small woman like me can force two hunks like you to do anything against their wills, right?"
Instead of answering, I kiss her, drowning out her laughter. And true enough, my cock isn't the only part of me already looking forward to this.
Chapter 31
I'm not surprised that once the emotional roller coaster that was our Thanksgiving weekend is over, the days leading up to Christmas seem to zoom by. Maybe it's also because those days are among the best I've had in a very long time, even though at times I feel a little guilty about it.
One thing I'm not surprised at is how easily Jazz integrates himself into our daily lives again. In hindsight, the full impact of just how much I missed him while he was gone is immense, and seeing Bella act as happy and carefree as I do helps me feel a little less like I'm betraying her. Which I am sure I'm not, but having spent months locked inside my own head thinking about my issues with him has left its mark, and it takes more than a few rounds of fucking and a nasty Scrabble tournament to leave all that behind.
Sadly, the universe hasn't gotten the memo that we would appreciate it if everything around us were to stop so we could celebrate our reunion in all sorts of ways; the time I actually end up spending with Bella and Jazz is very limited. I secretly lament that fact but try to be a good sport about it every time I slink off to the hospital. I am ecstatic when, only days before Christmas, I head home from my shift at work, and get a text message on the way that is as cryptic as it is promising.
Mr. Cullen, the college library would like to remind you of your 6:30 appoint ment at Ms. Swan's office. Please be on time and bring your overdue book s with you.
When I finally arrive home, I find the living room deserted. Taped to my intended microwave lunch-slash-dinner is a small, folded paper, covered in Bella's hasty scrawl.
Enjoy the pasta! I don't think I have to remind you to get yourself ready.
Clothes are on the bed. I'm out with Jazz to get some last minute stuff.
Love, B.
That explains why I'm on my own with just under an hour until the designated starting time of our planned scene, and I feel a little cheated of the chance to share my excitement with the only two people who might really get it on every level. Trying not to dwell on that, though, I eat the spaghetti before I take a long shower, going through the usual prep work with diligence and a significant hard-on already.
Because I dawdle a bit I miss Bella's return, finding Jazz blocking the door when I want to go downstairs to greet her, still dripping from the shower and wearing only a towel.
"Sorry, dude, but the missus needs time to get ready herself. Until she gives us a sign, we're supposed to stay in here."
I huff, but then turn around to head back into the bathroom, only to stop halfway there.
"I haven't even had a chance to talk about the scene with her yet."
He smirks and leans against the door, as if to stress that he won't let me through if he can help it.
"Trust me when I say that she doesn't need help. You should have seen her today. She's been bossy since breakfast, and I don't think she'd appreciate you trying to wrestle her out of her role, as it were."
I don't know why his words rub me the wrong way, but do my best to hide my wave of resentment towards Jazz as I return to the bathroom. It takes me another five minutes of rubbing myself down furiously and brushing my teeth to make sense of my own feelings – I'm jealous. Jealous of all the time he gets to spend with her, to be more precise, and the chance to give her the one thing I can't always provide – attention.
And I've spent the last three weeks worrying that Bella might possibly be feeling neglected because now she's no longer the only one in the world that I care about. The fact that my jealousy is completely unrelated to anything sexual only makes me feel all the more ridiculous.
Trying hard to get a grip on myself, I dress and leave the bathroom to Jazz.
By the time he's done I'm once again mostly excited, although I can't shake off my apprehension at heading completely blind into this, even more so as he seems too smug not to be in on some of the plan.
Surprisingly enough, when my phone beeps with a new text message, spelling out only a simple "I'm ready," I don't really care anymore.
"Let's do this, shall we?"
Jazz grins at my obvious excitement, then holds me back at the door.
"Okay, just so you know, Bella wants us to behave like real brats. You know, the whole spoiled rich kid, easy on the eye womanizer kind of guy neither of us was in college, simply because my parents lacked the money and you had too much decency. Or to use her exact words, 'Give me a reason to spank you."
I snort, the memory of her lolita schoolgirl act from earlier this year still fresh in my mind.
"Shouldn't be that hard to pull off, I guess."
"That's the spirit!" he laughs, then steps away to let me exit the room. The door to the playroom is closed. With a nod at Jazz, I wrench it open to stagger inside while I make up some bullshit story about a supposed conquest of mine from last night. What I really do is drink in the image presented to us.
The playroom is oddly transformed, although technically the only additions to it are the desk and a chair from downstairs; all the other usual equipment is stored away, leaving the focus on the figure currently residing in the chair.
Red lips, hair up in a severe bun, glasses, dressed conservatively in a crisp, white blouse and a dark gray pencil skirt; I've seldom seen Bella look so hot.
At first she doesn't react to our entry as she pretends to scribble notes on some printed forms. When Jazz lets out a cheesy yet incredibly funny catcall whistle, her head jerks up, annoyance in her gaze as she compresses her lips into a thin line. Even though she already has our attention, she still clears her throat, then addresses us.
"Gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to lower your voices. This is a hall of learning and needs to be quiet; please take your ruckus elsewhere."
Jazz and I exchange glances, before he pulls out a badly abused note.
"I'd love to, but this letter states that I have to be here, so I'm sorry to disappoint you. But if you give me your number, I'd be happy to make it up to you later, baby."
Bella straightens in her chair, pretending to be insulted, but for a moment she breaks role, a smile showing through the severe look she's aiming for.
"Yeah, we're here because we have to meet with the library admin, some old hag named Ms. Swan? But after we're done charming her knickers off, I'd love to get into yours, if you know what I mean."
Her gaze flickers from Jazz to me, her brows raised in a silent 'Seriously?', but she does a good job of looking unimpressed.
"You're looking for Ms. Swan? So you must be Mr. Cullen and Mr.
Whitlock?"
"In the flesh, every glorious inch of it."
While Bella manages not to react, Jazz starts to laugh at the worst line that I've probably uttered in my whole life, but her disapproving stare makes him shut up surprisingly fast.
"Well, then I am sure you will be happy to have found her."
I make a show of exchanging glances with Jazz, then beam my most charming smile at Bella.
"You're Ms. Swan? I should have guessed. With your beauty, you outshine all of the ugly ducklings populating these halls."
She doesn't even smile, which must be hard considering the bullshit I'm making up, but her utter lack of reaction is even more powerful than any biting comment she could have offered. Instead she pointedly looks at our empty hands, then back up to our faces.
"Didn't you forget something?"
"Condoms are in the car, darling, if you need any," Jazz unhelpfully supplies, before we grin at each other again as if we really think that is a great pickup line.
"I meant your books," she clarifies.
"Baby, what I can do to you they don't teach in any books," I drawl, then actually wink at her. She's obviously not impressed.
"Gentlemen, please correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem to be taking this matter very seriously."
"It's a bunch of stupid books," Jazz shrugs. "So what, my dad gives a couple hundred thousand to the university each year. I think they can buy new ones from that."
She purses her lips again, then looks down at her forms before she's back to glaring at us.
"This isn't about the money, and your name won't help you in this case, Mr.
Whitlock. If you don't pay the fines and return the books, I will be forced to file an official complaint with the Dean for deliberate destruction of university property, a copy of which will also be added to your permanent student records. If I remember correctly, you both have been warned that any further offenses will lead to your immediate expulsion, as agreed to by your parents."
Trying my best at a sleazy leer, I lean closer, now almost touching the desk.
"But Ms. Swan, I'm sure we can find another way to compensate you for the loss."
For a moment I almost think she's breaking role when she smiles, but then I realize it's a humorless grimace. She slides her fingers over her phone, still holding my gaze.
"Hi, this is Bella Swan from the library. I need to speak to Dean Thomas. Is he in? Why yes, please connect me. I'll hold."
"No, wait!" Jazz hollers, sounding surprisingly concerned, but Bella only cocks one eyebrow without removing the phone from her ear.
"You wanted to say something, Mr. Whitlock?"
"Don't do this, please! We didn't mean it like that, you know? We'll do anything you want, right?"
He looks over at me until I nod, then elaborates.
"Like, we'll mow you lawn, paint your house, take out the trash, wash your car, stuff like that."
"We'll even help in the library, if that's what it takes," I offer, but I can't hold my brief snicker back. Bella's eyes flicker from one of us to the other, but her gaze doesn't lose its hostile, predatory quality.
"Anything? Really?"
"Yes, anything!" we both echo, making her purse her lips yet again.
Keeping up the game, she pretends that her call finally went through, her voice going from hard to buttery soft as she tells the "dean" that she has finished updating the lists and found everything in order. I allow myself a pretend contended exhale, but before I can do more than that, Bella ends the call and fixes us both with a somewhat hungry glare.
"Just to be sure, I will keep these forms until I consider your debt repaid.
Don't worry, boys, I'm sure you're going to enjoy this just as much as I will."
She then gets up for the first time and walks around her chair to the supply cabinet. I'm surprised for real when she gets a small handheld camcorder from inside, and after fiddling with the controls, puts it up on one of the side boards. The recorder is focused on the center of her desk.
"For my own amusement later. I hope you don't mind," she drawls, then puts her hands on her hips and regards us both with a calculating look.
"Strip."
Jazz and I exchange glances, and I can tell that whatever advantage his advance knowledge has given him is now gone. I give a hint of a shrug, then a slight nod at him to go on, letting him take the lead.
"But you didn't respond at all before when we offered to fuck you!"
Her grin is devious, and I feel a little like shying away from her when she comes stalking towards us, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor.
"That's because I still don't want to get fucked by either of you. You said you'd do anything, and yet you balk at the simplest of things. I'm sure the Dean is still in his office; one phone call from me and this whole situation resolves itself. Do you want that?"
He shakes his head, and even manages to look somewhat chagrined.
"Good. Then be good little boys and do what I say now."
Bella turns away and walks back to the door, shutting it with an ominous sound before she returns to her desk. She seems a little more relaxed now as she sits with one leg crossed over her knee.
"I'm waiting. Don't make me tell you again or the deal's off."
Excited as I am, I decide not to make a fuss, but Jazz is a lot slower than me to unbutton his shirt and kick off his shoes. I'm already completely naked, my hands folded over my genitals in a pretend attempt at modesty.
Bella keeps watching us with a serenity that I never thought her capable of, as if she couldn't care less about having two naked men standing in front of her.
Once Jazz is completely naked, too, she allows herself a tight-lipped smile as she scrutinizes us.
"Come on, don't be so shy. Let me see what you're so proud of."
Feeling my mind already slipping into a more obedient state, I drop my hands to my sides, but Jazz is once again reluctant. From the way his whole body vibrates with tension, I'm not even sure it's only an act. I have to admit, it's funny to realize that he has almost no problem submitting to me, but Bella, in full-on Domme mode, makes his hackles rise.
Bella seems to come to the same conclusion as she gets up and walks around us once, stopping behind Jasper. She grabs his arms and pulls them to his sides, needing to use some force. In turn, she snorts when she steps to the side and glances at our cocks – mine is already screaming for attention, while Jazz isn't even semi-erect.
What she does next also comes as a surprise, and again a mixed pleasure as far as Jazz is concerned – she slaps us both in the face, Jazz only lightly, but me hard enough to make me blink with pain for a second. He grunts and automatically steps away from her while I try not to move a muscle, earning an amused snort from her as she gently strokes my cheek where she has just slapped me.
"Aren't you a good little slut? I like that at least one of you has the good sense to behave."
Both her tone and the way she pats my cheek are condescending as hell, causing an unexpectedly deep blush of humiliation to spread over my cheeks, but I'm certainly not going to complain. Jazz looks less happy but she obviously enjoys his resistance just as much as my compliance.
