Edge and Belle

Chapter 1 (Belle): Was That Bad?

I'm not sure why Karen always had to be invited to these informal get-togethers, but it annoyed me to no end. She'd walk into Edge's house like she owned it, or at least lived here with him, and then take over as role of hostess, running to get people beers or pop, refreshing the snacks. 

The one time I'd tried to help, she waved me away.

"No need," she'd said in a sweet, kind voice that made my fingers itchy with the need to punch her smug face, "guests don't serve themselves here. Edge doesn't like that."

Edge doesn't like that.

What a bitch. With that one statement, she was throwing so many things at me.

She knew what Edge liked and disliked to happen at his home and his gatherings, meaning she'd been there many, many times before.

She'd been with him and acted as his hostess.

She was telling me I was a guest and she was not. Temporary vs. permanent.

Then she'd go serve the other guests because she was letting me know my place and hers. In her mind, I was firmly in the guest category and she was not. 

Karen would also stand right beside Edge when everyone was leaving and say goodbye to his friends with him as if they were a couple. As if they were a couple.

She'd actually looked at me from the front door the first night I'd been invited when Edge was distracted with talking to one of his friends and asked, "Do you need to get your purse so you can leave?"

"I'll be here a little longer," I assured her coldly. "But maybe you should go get your purse and get gone."

Her eyes had narrowed on me, but before she could catty back, Edge looked at us.

"Walk me to my car?" she asked Edge. "I'm down the street a ways."

So he'd accompanied her to her car, and -- despite being a guest -- I cleaned up the cups and plates that hadn't made it to the garbage.

Fortunately, Edge was gone less than a minute, and then he made me feel very welcome in his home.

I was standing at the sink when he came back in, washing some wine glasses, and he came in with a few more that he must have picked up when he came back in through the living room. He walked right up behind me and his arms went around me on either side to drop the glasses in the soapy water. Once his hands were free, he curled his arms around my waist, nuzzled my neck and then he pressed himself in close.

Well, hello! Karen who?

"You know I have a dishwasher, right?" his low voice was right in my ear.

"Yes, but I think these wine glasses should be washed by hand."

"Well, I know you have to get home soon and there's better things you could be doing with your hands."

I laughed. "I have some time. I can do both."

"You do both then, and I'll play while you finish up."

His hand moved down my thigh, pulling my dress up with it. "My sweet Belle with her hands all soapy and wet. Are any other parts of you wet, too?"

Could you spontaneously combust from a man whispering low and sexy in your ear?

His fingers hooked into my panties and moved them down, down my legs until they were around my ankles.

"Step out," Edge said, his voice getting that rough quality to it when he was about to do dirty, wonderful things to my body.