Chapter 9 ~ Crossing Lines & Mixing Signals

Cullen POV

“Cullen…”

I cocked an eyebrow and did my best Double Oh Seven impersonation.  “Edward Cullen,” I finsihed to myself, as I checked my nerves at the mirror in the men’s room.

I’d found it promptly after sending Swan off to a more secure area of the casino type underground establishment we’d ended up in.

And I gotta say, me…in a tux.  Not half fucking bad.  I mean, shit, granted, if I dressed like that every day, I might not get shit done, ‘cause let’s face it, the ladies would not be able to handle the Cullenator dressed to the nines.  And that’d be on a bad day…

But I digress.

I scowled a little, fixing the fucking tie and thought yeah, no way I could do this on a daily basis, based on the bow tie bullshit alone…

More important fuckery to deal with, I know.

Was it a dick move, distracting Swan’s ass with a task like that?

Maybe, but hell, at least my mind was a little more at ease.  It wasn’t like I was guaranteed to win the money pot, ya know?

I needed to get my game on and since the main focus of my worries was off finding interesting shit to click a few photos of, I was free to mess with some truly screwed up individuals who may or may not wound up ending my sorry excuse for a life at some point or another during this charade of fuckery.

I couldn’t help but do a tad bit of a sarcastic celabrafuckery jig right there in the men’s room, ‘cause, you know…

Yay.

After I splashed some water onto my face and wiped it off, settling into bad ass, I will break your arm before you can even get a punch in, motherfucker, attitude, before heading out into the table area and went over my old, basic strategies for Poker playing.

Which were basically, attack aggressively and take no prisoners.

Hey, I shit you not, it works.

Most of the time.

With Emmett, anyway.

And sometimes, Jasper.

Okay, most of the time, not with Jasper, but Alice….yeah.

I was getting’ ready to enter the ring, so to speak, when I was stopped by an H'ordeuvres chick who offered me a boat load of free food to stuff my face with but I figured, screw that.

‘Cause ya never goddamn know when they’re drugging their most prestigious clientele to get ‘em to stay longer, play more, and lose their asses, then you owe them a ”favor” and the next thing you know, you’re breaking the law, stealing women and in so far over your head that even the seventh dimension of Hell would start to look good to ya.

Am I right?

I passed up the free booze, too, and then made my way to the counter to buy some chips and sit my ass down to get acquainted with the current game.

Yeah, I know, but drunk and trying to find a missing airline princess, don’t mix so well.

I won the first couple of hands I played, which allowed my ego and cockiness to start showing and then I started to notice the girls that were hanging around nonchalantly and yet, ever so fucking chalantly, next to their…whatevers and I got a little uptight about not having shit to throw into the pot even though I knew that was a fucked up thought beyond even my own comprehension.

It was just that…well hell, Swan woulda danced circles around any of those women and she’d probably have been worth ten goddamn times what any of them were.

What?

I wasn’t gonna fucking do it, for real, it was just you know, the principal of the thing.

You know, unless she wanted to.

Seriously.

As I looked around a little, I half expected to see my blonde headed friend up on one of the fucking pedestals until…

“You’re following me.”

It was sultry and seductive, and filled with some serious up I haven’t been fucked really well in a long goddamn time.

Which is about when I decided, free booze didn’t sound so bad after all.

What was it with women and the goddamn fuck me outfits?

Because had her breasts not been tucked in and taped the fuck down I was pretty goddamn sure they’d a been slappin’ me in the face and sayin’ ‘hey, Cullen, have a taste, for free, on the house,’ just like the boozed was.

Motherfuckers.

I grabbed a shot glass full of somethin’ off of the closest tray and downed it, then simply said, “Jane,” playin’ that shit off like I wasn’t going over where I’d seen exit signs, already.

Just in case.

I went back to playing the game so I wouldn’t look too much like an idiot, sitting there staring at her fucking breasts and she asked, slinking up behind me, “Where’s your partner tonight, Mr. Cullen?”

And shit, I wondered if she’d seen us walk in together.

‘Cause that would be bad.

Actually, that would be worse than bad.

I decided to go with a bluff, it couldn’t hurt in the end and it wasn’t like she knew where Swan was anyway.

“My partner wasn’t allowed in, which,” distract, distract, distract… “Good question though, why are you here? I mean, they said women were only…”

She laughed, cutting me off, letting a single finger slide its way up my playing arm and behind my ear and I ignored the waves of goosebumps it caused.

What? It was chilly as a motherfucker in there.

“Mr. Cullen, I manage the tables, and the women…I make sure there’s no foul play going on and …”

“Foul play?”  I laughed, turning to her, intersecting her oxymoron type line of reasoning. “Like selling women isn’t foul fucking play?  Seriously?”

“Now, now, Mr. Cullen, we don’t sell women here…they come of their own accord…to help the company raise money so to speak…”

I laughed a bitter laugh for her and shook my head at how utterly fucking absurd she sounded.

Then she tilted her head at me and asked, amused with my offensiveness, “How is this any different from bachelor auctions, Mr. Cullen? I certainly don’t see anyone complaining about the money made off of those events.”

Something seemed to catch her attention and I started to follow her line of sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me?  They don’t…”

“Are you in. or out, pal?”  the dealer asked me and while I was distracted with answering him, Jane disappeared on me.

I half worried that she might go looking for Swan and wished we’d figured out a way to communicate on short notice but figured, she could take care of herself.

I thought twice about texting her because I didn’t know if she’d put her phone on silence or not which meant in Cullen terms, that there was a fifty-fifty chance that it would give her location away and she’d be outted by the security detail that may or may not be near by.

I texted her anyway.

I mean I’m not a fucking idiot.

Worse case scenario, someone would hear it, but then again, so would she and being Swan, I placed my bet on her getting outta there before anyone could really find her.

But if they did, there was always the nut punch.

Plus, maybe she had the phone on vibrate…in her pants. 

I smiled as I sent it.

She’s not wearing pants…shit, even better.

Eddy Jr. agreed.

And who are we kidding, anyway?  He always fucking agreed.

I slid the phone back into a pocket and within a few minutes more of out bidding and out faking the fuckers out at my table, Jane was back.

Interesting.

“Why did you come here, Mr. Cullen?  I know you’re not exactly the…outlaw type…” she baited me.

She was good.

I was fucking better, though.

“Had to,” I told her, eyeing my cards, trying to decide whether or not the sweaty, greasy ganster type sitting next to me was bluffing or not.  “You wouldn’t give your last name up, this was the only way to get that date you keep teasin’ me about.”

Nice play, Cullen.

“How did you find out about the games?”

Shit.

“I don’t believe I’m supposed to divulge that information, Blondy,” I told her, then laid my three of a kind down, hoping no one could be the Queens.

“Let’s just say, a friend of a friend of someone I don’t exactly consider a friend knew I had a bit of a fettish.”

Greasy, sweaty guy folded and I pulled the chips from the pot into me as I continued my other bluff with Jane.

“Plus,” I added the next part for show. “A guy’s gotta get his rocks off somehow, right?”

I smiled and eyed her up and down once for good measure and then hoped to high heaven she bought that shit, ‘cause if she didn’t, I’d be getting’ tossed out with no info, no Swan and no goddamn way to find out what the hell was going on with the airline princess.

She thought about it for a minute and then smiled back at me.

“Maybe you won’t need to play games for that to happen.”

I was guessing that meant she bought it.

Either that, or she knew I was just talking out of my ass.

Or maybe her libido was lacking in certain areas and she was just hoping to get laid.

One or the other.

And either way.

My eyes wandered, keepin’ an eye out for Swan as I chatted with her, ‘cause after that bullshit filled outburst regarding the BFF earlier, I was pretty sure she wasn’t gonna like what was about to go down with Blondy but shit, I needed info and my intel abilities were limited with the ridiculous amount of fucking security inside that place.

No goddamn lie.

I was graced, if you wanna call it that, with a raised eyebrow and a little bit of lip biting and then, “Care to join me in a more private setting?”

Hmmm.

Getting her alone could be good. 

It could also be bad.

It didn’t exactly directly help that she looked like she could take a motherfucker down if he tried to forcefully lead her out of the building.

Which made me wonder again about that first meeting we’d had when she supposedly had been the victim of a purse snatching.

Was she working with the guy?  Or was it just coincidence?

And if she was re-fucking-sponsible for blowing up my goddamn Vanquish, lady or no lady, she was going the fuck down.

Hard.

I held a hand out, insinuating she should lead the way and asked, “How about that drink?”

“Mr. Cullen, I must say, I like that was your thought process is heading,” she answered, and I threw down another chip to tip the dealer and told him I’d be back, following Blondy to a not so very out in the open kinda area of the place.

I also grabbed another fucking shot off of another fucking tray as we passed by another fucking server.

‘Cause this shit was getting hot.

In more ways than one.

And where the fuck was Swan?

I did some internal, mental breathing and when we stopped at the end of a hallway that looked a little too familiar, I grabbed Blondy’s arm and spun her around, asking, “Why are you playing games with me, Jane?”

“What on Earth are you talking about Mr. Cullen? I just…”

“Where are you taking me?” I asked her.  It was  to divert her from the stairway I had a funny fucking feeling Swan had probably ascended.  And to get her to think she had me where she wanted me.

So to speak.

I felt the muscles in her arm relax from the tight ball of tenstion I’d felt in them just seconds before and then she leaned her back up against the wall I was facing and pulled me toward her.

I let her.

‘Cause if I didn’t, I be blowing the whole night and effectively blowing whatever cover Swan had at the moment.

And speaking the fuck of which.

Where was she?

My head turned, inadvertently to look for her but Jane’s hand stopped me from looking anywhere but at her.

“You’re a nice looking man, Mr. Cullen,” she rasped and Jesus fucking Christ I was in trouble.

I swallowed and tried to think.

‘Cause if I didn’t play this shit right, I’d either be dead by this bitch’s hand, or Swan’s.

Preferably Blondy’s.

I let my body press up against hers and I told her as seriously as I possibly could, “Don’t objectify me,” dead in the eyes, with a little bit of offensiveness thrown in there, even.

She laughed even though; I was really only half way fucking kidding about that shit.

“You’re funny,” she breathed, as her hands trailed up my arms and I knew she could feel the tension building by the look on her smug face.

The good news was, she probably just thought that was her, having a sexual kind of effect on me.  “So angry and tense, Mr. Cullen,” she mused and then dared me, “We should have angry sex later.”

I had to bit the laughter back, ‘cuase…

Yeah.

I don’t fucking think so.

Her lips were parted and I could feel her hot fucking breath against my neck as she neared it and then placed them against my skin, followed by a tongue lick all the goddamn way to my mouth and that was when I stopped her.

For the moment.

We just looked at each other and I tried like a motherfucker to think of something, quick.

If it wasn’t her heart that was beating fast, then it was mine and I didn’t wanna stop to try and decipher who’s exactly it was because that was about when I thought of something, and felt a little something, and decided, Swan or no Swan, this was a case, and I needed to play this shit out just like I would if there was no goddamn puzzle piece in my life, still.

Because it didn’t matter that I was taken, or that my heart belonged to someone who was going through seriously hormonal changes or some shit like that.

I needed to act, fast.

Like I had a fucking clue and had the talent to get what I needed to get this thing solved and hopefully, just fucking hopefully, save a girl’s life.

If I was lucky.

Blondy was playing me.

I knew it, she knew and what was gonna make matters more complicated, was that the cameras up in the corner of that hallway knew it.

But I was a sneaky motherfucker, if nothing else and I was maybe one, maybe a half a step ahead of them, whether they liked that shit or not.

So I put a hand around Blondy’s waste and pulled her into me harsh like and kissed the motherfuck out of her.

She was soft.

Too soft.

Not like Swan, who was just the right amount of tight, toned muscles and womanly goodness and I did my best to pretend it was her I was putting my lips on and not this, fake boobed, died hair, on the wrong side of the law bitch who thought she was just toying with yet another Johnny come fuck me she could have at the blink of an eye.

And just like that, while her peanut oil covered, strawberry tasting lips were on mine, her hand was on my dick.

And Eddy Jr. was not a happy camper.

Well, Eddy Jr. was, I however, was not.

Dicks.

Not to mention the fucking fact that he was hardening against my own goddamn will.  I mean it’s not like she turned me on or anything but Jesus, Swan and I hadn’t…I mean, well you know what the fuck I mean…in a few days and he was probably just suffering from fucking  … separation anxiety or some shit like that.

Jane liked it, regardless, and squeezed a little to let me know silently all the things she was planning for the guy in my pants.

I grunted because she was a little too fucking rough for the ball sack in my goddamn opinion and part of me wondered if part of her plan was to tie me up and put me in a fucking cage for half the night.

Jesus.

She had soft lips, plump, but they felt like they’d been injected with collagen and I suddenly felt like I was kissing an inflatable tire.

And as Blondy’s tongue met mine I couldn’t help but get a twisted up fucking feeling down in the pit of my stomach.

Was it cheating?

Technically, yeah, I guess but what the fuck was I supposed to do with eyes watching and guns toting and a whole goddamn shit load of bullshit escaping Pandora’s box within the past twenty-four to forty-eight hours?

Right?

Her hands were in my hair and her tits were pressed up against me and I had a feeling, if I didn’t do something soon, make a move, turn that shit around, one of them might very well end up in my mouth…

Against my will, of course.

So I grabbed her arms and pulled her off of me, breathing a little too heavy for my liking while she looked up at me, her chest heaving like a motherfucker, her eyes…well, I think we all know what the eyes were doing.

The strawberry lip shit was still lingering on mine and I could taste it but didn’t have the where with all to wipe it the fuck off, just yet.

“Too many eyes are on us, don’t ya think?” I asked, putting some gumption in to my question like I liked my privacy or something.

And the smile that played on my lips then weren’t in reaction to Blondy’s teasing, but in memory of a certain BDS and M joint that Swan and I had visited, where I didn’t exactly give a shit about privacy or…anything for that matter.

All I cared about that night was giving a certain sexy ass partner of mine a well deserve pussy lickin’.

And that, she got.

Blondy smiled up at me and said, “I’ll go get us something a little more…private, then.”

And as she left me there, all the fucking stress started to leave me and I feel back against the wall I’d just basically been molested against, ran a hand through my hair and let out the longest goddamn breath of air I didn’t even fucking know I had in me.

I turned to go look for Swan and get the fuck outta dodge with my shiny new toy I’d just lifted, quite spectacularly and was met with a glass full of fucking…something in my face.

“Shit.”

“That cool you off, Cullen? Because if it didn’t, there’s more.”

Oh.

Fuck me.

“Swan,” I laughed, wiping the Vodka out of my eyes. “I was just goin’ to look for you.”

Okay, that sounded cheesy.

“How um…how long have you been…”

“Long enough.”

Of course.

“Swan…” I had to laugh at the situation…I mean, seriously… “It’s really not what you’re thinking.”

“Really?” she spat. “Because ya know what it looked like to me?” It wasn’t a real question. “It LOOKED like you were about to have SEX with that….” She flung a hand behind her and then…”BITCH.”

“Wh….with Jane?”

Was she fucking kidding me with this shit?

“Oh, it’s Jane, is it?  What is this, pay back for Jake?  He didn’t even mean to…”

Okay, that was enough to push me into the conversation.

For fucking real.

“Fuck Jake, Swan, this isn’t…” I shook my head at the idiocy that was even coming out of her fucking mouth squinted my eyes to try and figure out how this was happening all of a sudden.

“Isn’t what?  Isn’t you, kissing some….Blonde BIMBO while I’m trying to get these?” She held up the iPhone and I had to assume she’d gotten something, which was fucking awesome, but for the love of fucking god, again, was she serious?

‘Cause that was the most…

“You got pics….what’d you get?  Was there anything good? Or…”

She threw the phone at me and I caught it, then when I gained control of the thing finally, she pushed my ass up against the wall and I knocked the shit out of the back of my head.

Now, where I normally would’ve asked her what the fuck that was for, I was stopped short by the tears welling up in her eyes and had to admit this time, I already knew what that shit was for.

But she didn’t know it was just for…

The fucking case…I mean, shit.

“Swan, look, I…”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Edward…”

Shit. Edward.

Not good.

“If you’d just listen for a fucking second…”

“Listen?  HA!”

“She was…”

“I know what she was, Edward, you don’t have to spell it out for me,” she said, and at that, her eyes fell to Eddy Jr. who was not.  Fucking Cooperating.

AT ALL with my goddamn dilemma.

“Bella…come on…”

I started for her but she looked at me with serious venom in her eyes then and told me, “You’re such a jerk,” she told me, and her voice cracked and I fucking knew she was right.

Actually, more of a dick than a jerk, but who was I to get technical?

There had to have been another way to get what I needed, what we needed.

But I took the dick approach and fucked up.

I wanted to grab her and hold her, maybe kiss her, but she wasn’t looking like that was an option so I just fucking stood there, before making a move.

And her hand started for my face.

But this time, I caught it.

And I looked into those brown eyes that had gotten me into the fucking mess I was in in the first place and told her, “I’m really fucking sick and goddamn tired of gettin’ decked, Swan.”

I was gonna put my lips to her’s, show her who I really had feelings for.

Who Eddy Jr. was really responding to when Blondy put her sticky fingers all over him.

She looked like she was gonna let me, too.

Maybe she was tired of the fighting as much as I was.

Maybe she realized she was just over fucking reacting again.

And she smiled and agreed.

For once.

“You’re right, Cullen.  You don’t deserve that…” she said, and then knee’d me.

Right in the goddamn nuts. 

And ohmymotherfuckinggod that shit hurt.

I bent over, heaving like a motherfucker while trying to simultaneously get the air back into my lungs for a minute and when I stood back up to try and talk again, I was met with a slap across the cheek bone.

And.

Fucking.

Ow.

It wasn’t exactly like any other time she’d decked me, either.  It wasn’t a deck…or a knuckle punch even.  Hell, I’d a taken another nut punch in comparison to what a slap meant.

At least when she decked me, I knew she was just pissed but that she’d get over it.

The slap though, that meant something else, entirely.

I had no words.

I just, fucking looked at her, standing there, crying and wanting to tell me the fuck off but part of her probably knew, too, that we didn’t exactly have the commodity of time on our hands.

So she just turned and left.

And when she did, there I was, standing in the overly decorated, tacky as a motherfucker hallway that belonged to the fuck nut who probably had our airline princess in custody somewhere, thinking about how completely and utterly fucked this whole goddamn case was to date.

We had a client that didn’t like to be upfront with us.

A hired gun who was probably the perpe-fucking-trator.

Aro Volturi, who was most likely the head honcho running this trafficking bullshit.

And now Blondy, who apparently wanted to fuck me raw and screw me over, all at the same time most likely.

I needed to take a fucking moment and re-construct a new goddamn plan on how we were gonna go forward with this case.

And Swan needed to get on board with it.

‘Cause even though, in my mind, I had just cause to have played things out the way I did, I knew I should probably suck up the stubborn motherfucker that liked to live in my head.

And that I should probably go apologize.

For starters, anyway.

Right?