Saturday, June 23, 2012

Hardtail Curve

Edward: An overworked CEO. Bella: A tattoo covered, bar owning, biker babe. Sparks fly, along with the insults. Can they work it out? - Edward/Bella
Hardtail Curve
It's been a long day at the office. I was in a board meeting for hours, and it officially drained me of any plans to have fun later. I was supposed to go hang out with my baby brother tonight, but now I feel like I am too mentally drained. I pick up my cell to cancel, and am not surprised by his boisterous answer.
"Don't even think of canceling on me tonight, you pent-up, office do-gooder! You will go with me tonight; I'll even let you pick the place we eat at."
"Emmett, it's been a long day. Can we just reschedule for next Friday night?"
"Nope. Besides, I want you to meet the fuck-hot, sexy chick I'm going to make into my baby momma."
"What are you talking about?"
"This blonde bombshell waltzed into my shop this morning. I dropped everything else to get her work drawn up, so you and I are stopping by her work to grab a beer while I show her the drawing. You're going, and your uptight ass better find itself in jeans. No business suits are welcome where I am taking you. I know you have a nice pair of brand new Docs and that outfit I got you for Christmas; wear it, and I will pick you up in an hour. I will not take no for an answer! Don't you dare back out on me or you will find yourself set up on a hot date with that new drag queen that moved into the apartment above my shop."
"Emmett! Come on, man, I'm beat. Can't we just hang out at my place and have a beer or two? And don't even think about sending that fairy you're renting space to anywhere near my door."
"No; you're going, like it or not. Whatcha gonna do, big bro, kick my ass? NOT! I'll see you in an hour. By the way, I still have a key, so if you don't answer, I'll just let myself in."
"Fine! I'll see you in an hour, and I'll be dressed like some hood-rat just to make you happy."
"Whatever, bro; see you soon," he says with a chuckle.
I love my baby brother, but he doesn't fit in with anyone I know. He's well over six and a half feet tall, and his arms look like he's wearing a graphic, long sleeved tee all the time. Emmett is one of the best and most well-known tattoo artists in the Seattle metro area. He wears his ink proudly and boldly, and just by looking at him, you would never know that he graduated with honors from Cornell. Smart as a whip, and he turned all his business knowledge and Ivy League degree into running one of the most successful tattoo shops in the continental USA. I turned my Ivy league degree into a lifelong career when I became the youngest CEO Boeing has ever had.
I head home and shower quickly before throwing on my boxer briefs and searching the back of my closet for the gift box with the outfit Emmett gave me. Opening the lid, I pull out the black, long sleeved tee. Pulling it on over my head, I am surprised by the softness of the cotton and the way it feels against my skin. When I look in the mirror, I see the huge, grey raised print that says 'Ed Hardy' written across my chest. I pull on the black, button fly 'distressed' – according to the tag – jeans. I pull out the black, Doc Martin boots next, and put them on. Standing up, I look in the mirror and laugh at myself. I look like a middle aged man trying to be a teenager again.
Before I have a chance to tame my wild bronze hair, Emmett walks in. "Don't you know how to knock?"
"Not giving you a chance to back out. You actually look decent, bro. I grabbed you a jacket; come on."
"I have to comb my hair and put some gel in it..."
"I don't think so, Mr. Neat-and-tidy," he interrupts. "You look like you might actually pull off entering Hardtail Curve looking like you do right now. Let's go; I need to see a whole lotta Rosie."
"Even I know that's a song by AC/DC, but what exactly is a Hardtail Curve? What are you talking about?"
"My future baby momma's name is Rose, and she is fff... ine."
"Does she know about this 'baby momma' status you've given her?" I ask sarcastically, making air quotes as I do.
"Not yet, bro, but I will be laying pipe in that very soon, if ya know what I mean. Hardtail Curve is the name of the place my Rosie works."
I shake my head at my loud, obnoxious brother, and make sure that I have at least a few hundred bucks on me before leaving. The way he is talking, I can see him ending up in a hospital or jail cell before the night is over.
"Dude, you're drivin', and not that fucking old man cruiser, either. I just gotta grab the drawings from my car for my Rosie. I'll pick up my wheels tomorrow if I don't come home with you tonight."
"Tell me again why I need to go with you? Are you suddenly afraid?" I ask, grabbing the keys to the Escalade I never drive.
Emmett laughs and flips me off as he grabs the drawings from the front seat of his car. "I ain't afraid of my Rosie, but she did say her boss is a real ball buster."
"Well maybe her boss will bust your balls for you then!" I say as we get into my Escalade. "Now, exactly what kind of place is this Hardtail Curve?"
"Bro, it is the finest of the fine establishments you will ever have the honor of entering. Once you get there, you'll see that they have the finest four B's any man could ever desire."
"So you've been to this place before?"
"Naw... not yet, but I do ink for a good portion of the people that hang out there. I'm sure it will be a bit of a culture shock for you, but you'll be fine. Just leave the CEO of Boeing in the Caddy when we get there, will ya?"
"What exactly do you mean by the four Bs, anyway?"
"Bro, you'll see. This place will have the finest Beers, Burgers, Babes, and Bi..."
"Are you taking me to another strip club? I told you what I thought about the last place you took me to. I'm not going, Emmett; I'm putting my foot down now," I say, interrupting him. I'm getting ready to turn around, but he shakes his head at me.
"Bro, it's possible that you may see a tit or two tonight, but Hardtail Curve is no strip-club. The future mother of my children isn't a stripper. Now we're here, so shut up and park the dam Caddy in that lot," he points. "I can't wait for you to meet my baby momma."
I roll my eyes at my brother but pull into the parking lot. There sure are quite a few motorcycles and trucks in the lot. Walking to the door, I see the huge LED sign above the archway. The words 'Hardtail Curve' flash, and a life-like picture shows this incredibly gorgeous brunette straddling a large motorcycle. "Emmett, is this one of those... biker bars?"
With an unsophisticated snort and an eye roll, he smacks my shoulder. "Bro, you're really using that Ivy League degree of yours, now aren't ya... duh, dipshit. What the fuck did you think a hard-tail was? Rosie said the owner has this mean ass hard-tail that is just beast!"
"Beast... what exactly is 'beast?'"
"Oh, bro, you need this night out much more than I think you even realize. Beast for you is: 'like totally awesome for sure,'" he says in his best preppy girl voice. I often wonder which of us is adopted, because we can't possibly be from the same parents. I follow him into the bar, staying close but not too close. I'm going to be completely out of my element in this place. Inside the door, there's this large guy who looks like he could eat a bucket of chicken and take Emmett out at the same time. Emmett shakes his hand and calls him Charlie, and when I notice the extensive amount of ink work he has, I realize that Emmett must know him from his shop. As Emmett introduces us, I shake Charlie's hand, thinking that maybe I should go wash my hands afterward.
"Come on, bro; I have to get to the bar. Charlie's daughter and my Rosie are working it. We're so lucky we came tonight, because Charlie was sayin' that Jasper is playing."
"Who is Jasper, and does Charlie own this place?"
"No, man, Charlie is the father of the owner, and Jasper is fucking fantastic; you'll love his style. Now let's go get a cold beer and see my Rosie."
"Are you sure she's okay being called your Rosie?"
"She better be, cuz' she's gonna be my baby momma one day."
I shake my head and follow the buffoon to the bar. We grab a couple of stools and sit down when I see this blonde bombshell – wearing a skimpy leather bra and the shortest shorts I've ever seen – wave at Emmett.
"Emmett, you said this wasn't a strip club," I say in a loud whisper to my brother.
"This isn't a strip club, you wannabe, now order a drink or quit wasting space in my place," came the snidest, yet sexiest voice I've ever heard.
I turn my head, and standing in front of me, is the same girl from the picture out front. What a goddess! She has this long, curly, dark hair, and these huge, dark brown eyes. Scanning down, I can see her ink and scantily clad body. Never in my life have I seen a woman who is sexier than this one. Moving my eyes back to her face, I'm brought out of my stupor when she leans in close and snaps her fingers in my face.
"Beer... please," I manage to spit out, causing her to smirk before turning away.
"Bro, what the fuck was that about? You were looking at her like she was your lunch, and I'm here to tell you that's not a good idea."
"Who is that, Emmett?"
"That's Charlie's daughter, who also happens to own this fine establishment."
"Emmett, is she betrothed? Is she spoken for?"
"Man, you so need to get a life. No one talks like that. She's single, by the way, but you've really got your work cut out for you if you want her. That little stack of hotness will burn your ass to a crisp."
She is a woman, and with the right kind of sweet talking, I could have her. I don't have time for women, but I was going to make time for her. Having a relationship isn't a possibility... do I even want a relationship with her? No, I don't; she isn't my type. She's covered in tattoos, and I could never take her to any of my work events; I'm the CEO, after all. I can hear my employees talking already. I do want to fuck her, though. She has perfect tits and I bet she has very pretty nipples, too. Maybe they're pierced? I would really like to find out what she has pierced. She has fantastic legs, and I really want them wrapped around my head. I bet she tastes divine. I watch as she fills a cup with beer, and my eyes go to her perfect, round ass. I want to bite it, smack it, fuck it... hell, I just want to touch it. She walks back to me, and when she licks her lips, I notice that her tongue is pierced; the sight of it goes straight to my cock, and I want her to suck it at this very minute.
"Thanks, Beautiful. When do get off?" I ask, giving her my crooked smile.
"I never get off," she says as she turns to Emmett. My jaw hits the bar at her comment, and it takes me a few seconds to recover, but when I do, I lean in front of Emmett to talk to my tattooed goddess.
"I could so get you off," I say as I hear Emmett snort. I throw my elbow back into his chest, hard; he is not messing this up for me.
"Do you know this poser?" my goddess asks.
"Yeah, he's my big brother," Em says with a smile. "I'm Emmett, by the way. I met with Rose today to talk about some work she wants done."
"As in Emmett Cullen, the best fucking tat artist this side of the Sound?" she asks with the prettiest smile ever.
"The one and only."
"Bella Swan; I'm coming to see you next week!" Bella says with a huge, excited smile. "I love your work. The stuff Rosie brought in is actually for both of us."
"Thanks; I can't wait to touch your perfect skin," Em says as I glare at him. I thought he wanted Rosie?
"So, Emmett's have any ink?" Bella asks, glaring daggers at me.
"You'll have to take my clothes off to find out," I say as Em snorts again. I want nothing more than to show her the Cullen crest that I have tattooed across the right side of my body, the tribal on my left or maybe my favorite quote by William Shakespeare. The Italian words: 'L'amore non guarda con gli occhi, ma con la mente' span my upper back. Translated, it means 'love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.' Bella bites her lip and moves in close to me. All I have to do is lean in an inch and our lips would touch.
"Good thing I don't need to know that bad, then, square," she says loud enough for Emmett to hear and he laughs loudly at her words.
"Shot down by the blaze of glory!" he yells as Bella walks away. I should be pissed and put off by this infuriating woman, but the smile she gives me over her shoulder tells me that she is digging me. "Don't worry, be happy; I told you you weren't going to hit that."
"I'm so going to 'hit' that," I say, taking a pull from my beer.
The more I stare at Bella, the more I actually see her. I love the tattoo on her chest. She has a lotus flower with a cross and heart. The heart dips between her breasts, which makes me want to see her naked even more. I really need to see her naked so I can see every inch of her perfect body. She looks so young when she smiles, and I love the way her big eyes shine against the black eyeliner under them. I smile at the way she blows her side bangs out of her face, and how it makes her lips look so kissable. I even find that her nose is perfect for her face. The more I observe her, the more protective I get, but it's clear she can fend for herself. I watch as she roughly pushes a man Emmett's size off the bar. Yeah, my baby doesn't take shit from anyone.
"Wow, he's kinda creepy," I hear a voice say. As I look to my left, I see the blond – who I assume is Rosie – sitting on Emmett's lap.
"Who?" I ask as they laugh.
"You, Casanova," the girl says with a laugh.
"I'm not creepy."
"You're staring at my girl like she's something to eat, so yeah... that's creepy in my book," she says, getting off my brother's lap. Okay, maybe I was being a little creepy, but Bella was too beautiful not to look at. "Need another beer?"
"Nope, I'm good," I say as my eyes move back to Bella. When she looks at me again, I give her a small pout and hold up my empty glass. She ignores me for over five minutes before finally coming over to me.
"Another beer?" she asks, wiping down the counter.
"Bella, I would love another beer, but first you have to tell me something about yourself that I don't already know," I say.
"Okay," she replies, giving me the sweetest smile. "My daddy would kick your ass for trying to fuck his little girl," she adds with a laugh. She leans over the bar, and I think she's about to say something else, but she waves to her father at the door, instead; yeah, that man would easily break me.
Once again I am speechless. She is the most feisty, annoying, beautiful woman I have ever encountered. I want this girl in every way imaginable. At first I thought I could just fuck her and leave, but now I want to know everything about her, inside and out. If I can't have her, I don't want any else to have her, either.
Emmett and I are polar opposites; that much is a given. Even when we were kids he would make friends anywhere we went, but no one was really good enough for me. It was hard, and still is to this day, for me to find someone to have an intelligent conversation with. For some reason, though, I think Bella and I would have some intriguing conversations.
"Let's do a shot!" Emmett yells, scaring the shit out of me. I was so lost in my thoughts of Bella that I didn't even know what was going on around me.
"I don't do shots," I say with disgust. I hated the hard stuff. On his twenty-first birthday, Emmett and I went shot-for-shot, and I got so sick afterward, that I've never done another one.
"Awe, the pretty boy doesn't do shots? What's the matter, scared?" Bella asks out of nowhere.
"What's up with the nicknames?" I ask, sounding more like a jerk than I intended to. She narrows her eyes at me, and all I want to do is throw her down on the table and fuck her into submission.
"Well, you fucking Asshat, you walk into my bar acting all high and mighty, like you're better than everyone here. And if that's not enough, you're wearing an Ed Hardy shirt, and I would lay my life down and bet that you have no clue who he even is," she says as she pulls herself up on the bar. I sit back in the stool and put my elbows on the high back. I bite my lip because I know she wants me as much as I want her. "This," she says, waving her hand up and down my body and then kicking my knee so my legs are no longer crossed, "is not you."
"You think you know me?" I ask.
"I don't like fake people," she says, leaning into me.
"Don't judge a book by its cover. You, of all people, should know that," I whisper in her ear. I feel her little hand against my side, and then I feel a tug.
"You should take the tag off before you wear something," she says, handing me the damn price tag. I'm speechless... again. How did I not know the tag was still on my shirt? At least now that poking feeling is gone. While Bella is laughing, she's pouring a shot; I'm so not taking that. She holds her hand out to me and I give her a disgusted look. "Give me your hand." I take the bait and put my hand in hers. She turns my hand over so that my palm is up, and brings my wrist to her mouth. I watch with a slack jaw as she runs her pink, pierced tongue across my pulse point, and swallow loudly as she sprinkles salt on the wet skin. When she takes a lime and places it between my fingers for me to hold, I know exactly what she's doing. She is using me to do a body shot, and I can't control the erection that is suddenly straining against my pants. At the moment, I am grateful for boxer briefs. My heart pounds against my ribcage as she gracefully licks the salt from my skin, pounds the shot, and then lifts my hand to her mouth so she can suck on the lime. I feel like I'm going to cum in my pants like a teenage boy.
"That, Wannabe, is how you do a shot," she says, making several other patrons laugh.
"I know how to do a shot, Little Girl," I say as I stand, pulling her so that I'm standing between her legs. I hand her the lime to hold, and she bites her lip when I tilt her head to the side and swipe my tongue across her sexy collar bone. After I splash some salt over her wet skin, I open-mouth lick her, adding a little bit of suction for effect. I quickly down the shot and then grip her wrist as I bring the lime to my mouth. I don't take my eyes off her's, and can clearly see that her own eyes are hooded, so I know she likes what I just did to her.
"There's hope for you yet, Preppy," she says with a smile. Emmett is hooting and hollering louder than anyone else, and I can't help but roll my eyes. I smile as Bella pulls me to her. "I'll be thinking of you tonight when I touch myself." All of a sudden music starts to play, and Bella has me helping her up as she starts to sing none other than I Touch Myself.
"Oh, shit! I need another shot," I say, smacking the bar. I watch intently as the sexy brunette struts across the bar while staring at me intently. I'm stuck, hypnotized by her as she sings about thinking about me and touching herself. The tightness in my pants is even more uncomfortable because I'm not used to wearing jeans. The more she struts her stuff, the more shots I down. I know this night isn't going to end well.
"Bella, you are not going to believe who I had an appointment with today!" Rose shouts.
"Who, miss excited?" I ask with a chuckle.
"Can it, Bitchella; you'll be excited about this, too."
"Oh hell-to-the-no! You did NOT go and see that tat guy without me, did you?"
"Yes I did, and I am calling dibs. His monster ass is mine...all mine. He's so hot! Of course he has some nice art work he's wearing, but he is built big, like your dad. I can't wait to wrap my legs around those hips, let me tell ya."
"You can have him as long as he spreads some of that fuck awesome ink on me, too."
"I gave him the ideas and told him what we wanted. He said he would start developing the drawings and get back to me right away. He was so tots checking me out, too. It won't take much convincing for me to be on his jock."
"Whore," I say with a laugh.
"Only for extremely large, hunky, ink–a–licious men like Emmett Cullen."
"I'm grabbing a shower real quick. I'll be out in twenty. Be ready to go. We have to take my bike over to Dad's and you have to give me a ride home; he's out with Sue."
"No probs, go get wet, so we can jet."
"Great, now you're a fucking poet, too," I say with a smirk before ducking under the flying sofa pillow she chucks. I flip Rose the bird as I go into my bedroom to my private bath.
Rose and I live above my bar. I love our loft. It's really huge, and I spent a ton of money remodeling it into the way it is. We both have our own private bedrooms and baths. The kitchen is phenomenal, and I love cooking big meals in it. The bar is closed on Sunday and Monday every week, so we usually have people over to eat on those nights.
I undress and turn on the water, and while I wait for it to get warm, I glance in the mirror. My ink may not be for everyone, but I love the colors and meanings behind my tats. I smirk as I trace the words across my pelvic bone: 'L'amore non fa girare il mondo ', l'amore è ciò che rende il viaggio vale la pena.' Italy is one place I've always wanted to travel to, so I spent many years learning the language. I have always loved the quote by Franklin P. Jones: Love doesn't make the world go 'round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile. Those words were one of the first tattoos I ever got. I got them in Italian, and when I can find a man who can read them on his own, I'm sure he will own my heart.
The bar is going to be busy tonight; I've got jasper coming in to play, and everyone loves his soulful voice. I promised that pixie of a girl of his that I would sing a cover of The Divinyls for her. She says she has to hear it each time she comes into the bar. Thankfully, she isn't in that often. I'm not shy by any means, but singing in front of a bunch of people is not really my idea of fun.
Rose got a call from Emmett Cullen earlier, and he is bringing in the art work to show her tonight. I am stoked to meet the mammoth of a man who Rose has been going on and on about all day. I notice Emmett as soon as he enters. I'd recognize him anywhere from all of the TV time he has gotten. There is this extremely fuck-hot man with him, who looks so uncomfortable in my bar. The man must be six-foot-five, and he has the wildest sex hair I've ever seen. It is not brown and not red, but a strange mixture of both all over his head. He has the most incredible jaw line, and I've never wanted to lick a man's jaw until this moment. I can't wait to fuck with this guy. How he handles the hell I give him will tell me if he is a contender or not.
As soon as they sit down at the bar, I over hear my uncomfortable man call my bar a strip club. That pisses me off; I'm gonna knock this guy's dick in the dirt. I have to walk to him and see what he has to say to my face about my bar. He sees me, and all of a sudden he can't talk. He's hot; there's no denying that. I think about playing it cool, and I decide I'm not going to be a bitch, and then he opens his mouth again!
I have spent the past four hours knocking Mr. Wannabe's dick in the dirt. I wish he wasn't so freaking hot. I wanna ride him more than I want to ride my Harley, and that's saying something. He looks so good, but I've given him so much shit that he drank himself to the point of being cut off.
I glance over to where Rose is sucking face with the tattoo God, and notice that the poser is gone. I tell her I'm going to have a smoke since I haven't had one all night; she hasn't worked much anyway. I'm happy to see her happy with Emmett - they seem to be a perfect match – but I need a break. I walk for the back door.
"Can I join you, Beautiful?" Edward slurs.
"I thought you gave up on me," I say with a hand on my hip.
"I did; I get... HICK... it. You're... HICK... untouchable, but I really... HICK... need some... HICK... fresh air," he says, looking adorable as fuck.
"Come on, Mr. Hiccup," I say with a laugh.
When we're outside he just paces around with that sexy, crocked smile, and those funny sounding hiccups. I'm shocked he doesn't say anything. He's so wasted. I can't help the small laugh that comes out. He turns around and smiles widely at me, letting out his loudest hiccup yet.
"You have a great laugh and a really cute smile. Hell, you have great everything," he says as I laugh again. "I haven't drunk this much in years."
"I believe that," I say with another laugh. "Tell me something that I don't know."
"I haven't worn jeans in close to a year," he says with a laugh. "Your turn."
"My dream is to go to Italy someday," I say as he nods. "Honestly, just getting out of this town would be great," I say, waving my hands around me.
"I'd love to take you to Italy."
"Right, sure, yeah," I snark.
His eyes look to my stomach and he staggers over to me. He doesn't take his eyes off my midriff as he approaches me. When he's standing right in front of me, he brings his eyes to mine and slowly pushes my shirt up. My body breaks out in cold chills at the feel of his hands on my skin. He steps to the side so he can see my tattoo in the light.
"Love doesn't make the world go 'round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile. I like it," he says as my mouth hangs open. He's hot and he knows how to speak Italian... how perfect. I'm left speechless as he lifts his shirt up and shows me his torso. I see tattoos on both sides of his ribs, but he turns around to show me his back. He bends down so I can read the one that spans his shoulder blades.
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. Shakespeare, I like it," I say as my hands roam the sides of his ribs. I can't take it anymore. I pull him to me, and of course he stumbles. He braces himself against the wall with his hands on either side of my head.
"I knew you wanted me," he slurs as I laugh.
"Shut up," I say as I pull his face to mine. His lips feel amazing, and he tastes sweet and manly. He swipes his lips with mine and he smiles into our kiss. He moves his hands from the wall to my hair, and I love the tug he gives it. Breaking the kiss, I smile at him and let out a giggle when he hiccups again.
"Don't laugh... HICK... it's all yo... HICK... ur fault."
"Listen, I'm gonna take you someplace to let you lay down," I tell him.
"I'm not laying down in... HICK... in your bar... HICK."
"No worries my tattooed, drunk, flirty, sexy, Italian speaking, wannabe badass; I was gonna put you in my bed."
"You want me in your bed?"
"Maybe," I say biting my lip. "Are you game?"
"HICK... I've got game."
"And you've got me, come on."
When we get into my apartment, I send Rose a text asking her to close up for me. I also tell her to let Emmett know that Edward was staying with me. I was sure he would have something to say about that.
"I really want to see you naked," Edward says bluntly. I couldn't help feeling excited.
"We'll have to see if that happens."
"I can take your clothes off you," he says, stumbling his way toward me. I laugh as he reaches me. He is so fucking hot.
"I don't think you could take your own clothes off," I snark back.
I'm caught off guard when he kisses me. I really like the softness of his lips and the way he sucks on my own lips and tongue. I want him so badly. I break the kiss for much needed air, but that doesn't stop him. He kisses and nips at my neck. I moan, and that encourages him to keep going. His hands grope my breasts, and I arch my back, pushing into his hands even more.
"Let me go freshen up and I'll be right out," I say, biting my lip. I want him so badly.
"I'll be ready for you," he says, swaying where he stands.
Just before I enter the bathroom, I look back to see that he is already half naked. I quickly get myself ready for him, making sure I smell pretty and that I don't need to shave anything. I'm almost ready for him, but I feel like I'm taking too long. I remove my clothes, deciding just stay in my underwear; he would never get my top off with how drunk he is anyway. I guess this was me giving him a break.
With one last deep breath, I head out of the bathroom. I bite my lip again as I enter my bedroom. I stop inside the doorway and pose for him, but no comment comes. I look to the bed and narrow my eyes. What a bitch! I think to myself.
"Edward!" I call loudly. He doesn't even flinch at the sound of my voice. "Un-fucking-real; and you have such a big cock, too," I say, shaking my head. I plan to have this man in the morning, and have him I will.

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