BPOV

"…we had to climb over the bob wire!" Emmett laughs boisterously from his spot on a large beach blanket.

Jasper holds his hands up to interrupt him. "Dude, did you just say 'bob wire'?"

"Yeah, man, that spiky shit!" Emmett agrees and tries to continue with his story about an adventure from high school but Jasper laughs and stops him again, not letting him finish just yet.

"You actually think it's called bob wire? Like fucking Robert Wire? You think it's called Robert Wire?"

"Well, what the hell do you think it's called?" Emmett retorts.

"It's BARB wire, you idiot! Like Barbara Wire!"

"Oh my God." Rose's words cut them all short. "You guys. BARBED wire. Because the wire has barbs, it is BARBED."

"Fuck," Emmett says thoughtfully like he has been lied to his whole life.

"Fucking Robert and Barbara Wire." Rose says with a shake of her head, all of us laughing at Emmett and Jasper's expense.

It's easy to hide behind laughter and a pair of sunglasses.

Listening to the banter bouncing back and forth among our group has me relaxed and lazy in my beach chair, moving my feet back and forth in the sand around us, without any desire to move for the foreseeable future. I've spent the last several hours watching the sun dip down to begin to sprinkle the sky in different shades of pink and orange, enjoying the time with my friends while I can. We've all spent the afternoon and early evening in and out of the water to cool ourselves from the heat, the guys tossing a football every now and then in the surf when they had grown restless sitting with us on the beach.

I had listened to Rose and Alice chatter back and forth, chipping in when I felt my thoughts needed to be interjected, but my thoughts are scattered elsewhere.

Specifically on the conversation I had just had with Edward.

At the end of our last session, the one I had suggested - well, demanded, I not only broke our rules, but I had enjoyed it.

I had apparently enjoyed it so much that I had completely forgotten about the phone Edward held in his hand, forgot about the money and the bungalow, and I focused only on everything I was feeling – everything that Edward was making me feel.

And it turned out that Edward was making me feel a lot of things.

Nothing unwelcome. Just things I wasn't prepared to feel.

I had spent the hours between Edward leaving my room and the Uber picking us up to go to the beach bar with countless thoughts running through my mind about Edward, about us, about our proposition. I had thought our unplanned session would alleviate some of my worries, and while it did to some degree, it had actually ended up creating a whole new set of worries that I didn't know what to do with.

I was worried that I was starting to like this a little too much.

Thoughts like that plagued my mind for the remainder of the day, into the night at the beach bar, and into today up until my conversation with Edward here on the beach. Going over the rules again, specifically the importance of them, only served as a reminder that I needed to refocus on the task at hand, which was to secure the money we needed.

Not the way his washboard abs crunched when he twisted himself to catch the football Emmett had thrown at him a little while ago.

Not the way he had sheepishly admitted that he was enjoying this new aspect to our friendship as much as I was, or the smile he had thrown my way right after his admission.

Definitely not that.

Which is why now, as we all laugh and joke as the day comes to a close, I am beyond grateful for sunglasses that hide my prying eyes. Whether he's next to me in the sand or in front of me in the water, my eyes can't seem to distance themselves from him wherever he goes. I listen as everyone around me seems to be unaware of the state of confusion I'm suddenly thrown into, into a world where instead of always just knowing and accepting that my best friend is a good looking guy, now I live in a world where he's become insanely attractive and maybe even a little bit…sexy?

Fuck. The fact that that thought even crosses my mind makes me tear my hidden gaze away from him.

"Are you watching Liam tomorrow?" Alice asks me a little while later when we are packing up our things to head back to campus. The evening sky above us has decided our time at the beach is done, all of us thinking about how today was a Sunday well spent even with thoughts of the impending week encroaching on our good time.

I nod and throw my bag over my shoulder. "Yeah, til around six."

"We have to get our dresses for the formal," Rose adds and folds up her chair.

"There's only like, two weeks left," Alice says and I can hear the worry in her voice.

"Shit, I forgot." I say and look towards them. "Want me to meet you at the mall when I'm done? Around 6:30?"

Rose and Alice nod in unison. "Yeah. At the food court."

"Last chance to change your mind," I say to Edward as we all start to make our way to the boardwalk and bid the beach goodnight.

He smiles but shrugs his shoulders. "It's my last formal," he says, reiterating the sentiments he brought up during our last conversation about the formal for his fraternity. "I can't miss it."

"Plus, the rooms are already booked." Jasper says, draping an arm over Alice's shoulders.

"I booked three rooms," Emmett says, unlocking his car with a press of a button. He turns to look at me and points back to Edward. "If you don't want to share with Edward, he can always crash with one of the guys."

We always book three rooms for formal every year, Rose and Emmett sharing, as well as Alice and Jasper, leaving the last room for Edward and I to share or to use solo in the case that one of us finds someone else to share with when the night comes.

"We've shared before," I say, dropping my bag into Alice's trunk. I look over at Edward and feign a look of disgust. "I'll just have to endure it."

"Endure it?" Edward says, stepping closer to me in a move of mock intimidation. I'm leaning against the back of Alice's car with a smile as he moves so he's standing directly in front of me. "Is that so?"

"Just ply her with wine and food and she'll be fine," Rose dismisses the conversation and slips into the car with a slam of the passenger side door. Her words remind us where we are so he backs away facing me.

The tilt of his head and the smirk on his face tells me he knows plenty of ways to help us endure it.

Together.

-ptp-

"Here; let's try this one."

Liam and I are sitting at his Lego table with a step by step pamphlet in hand trying to build a pizzeria following the instructions on the paper in front of us. With Liam turning four not too long ago, we are way into the Lego phase right about now, and not only is it fun and liberating to see how much joy he finds in successfully completing a Lego mission, it's a great way to fill the hours I spend with him in the afternoon. We're so immersed in the construction of the latest idea to float into Liam's head that time flies by, and I welcome these times with open arms. With finals quickly approaching and with roughly three weeks before another college year is under my belt, relaxing with Liam and Legos is a well-earned respite from the chaos that is my life.

It's Monday, the day after our excursion to the beach, and I've managed not to bug Edward or log into our account to check out how our two videos are doing. I promised Edward that I wouldn't check until Thursday right before our next session, and while I remain true to my word, I can't lie and say that I'm not tempted. In fact, the temptation is slowly killing me, which is maybe why I'm so intent on building this little Lego pizzeria with Liam. To be honest, I've been looking for things to occupy my mind and keep me away from my phone. The answers I need are just mere clicks away, and I find my resolve to keep Edward's promise waning by the minute.

It wasn't exactly a promise, I tell myself as Liam and I complete the Lego pizzeria. It was just a suggestion he made to try to calm my nerves, but as it turns out, his suggestion has done the exact opposite. If we were to look and monitor our progress, we would be able to know if we needed to make more than just one video a week.

But in its never ending cycle, my brain reminds me that our agreement to only day a week, regardless of how well we're doing or not, takes precedence. And then I groan at not being able check our status, to see if there's even a reason for me to worry in the first place. Not a fan of being on my phone while babysitting, I quickly text Edward when Liam takes a trip to the bathroom as a need to convince myself that checking will only make things worse.

But possibly better.

The amount of time I volley this back and forth in my mind could be endless.

We have to check. I send to him quickly and hope that he is near his phone so I can hear back from him. He does not disappoint.

I won't stop you if you want to find out. I personally like the suspense.

You like it? How?! I'm dying over here.

Go ahead and check. Just don't tell me!

Liam comes back from the bathroom and distracts me from checking. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I try to push the thought into the back of my mind once again, succeeding until I'm at the mall in a dress store with Alice and Rose trying to find what I want to wear to Edward's fraternity formal. In previous years when I had gone as Edward's "date", I never had a reason to put much thought into what I wore. I was Edward's best girl friend and nothing more, so whichever dress I liked always ended up being my choice.

But now, as I'm standing in front of a rack of dresses after stuffing our faces at the food court, I find myself wondering what someone else would think of the dress I plan on buying for myself.

One person specifically.

For a brief second, I think about the way his eyes darken when they stumble across something they like. The way they trail up and down and in between, the emerald gaze lighting the way for his hands to follow. I remember the way his hand palmed and pressed all of me up against all of him, and it makes me reach for the black dress in front of me. Form fitting with silver sequins patterned along the edges and sides, I hold it up against me and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes see that it's backless with a plunging neckline, but my skin feels phantom hands sliding the material to the side and up and over my head before replacing the feel of the fabric with hands warm enough to bring sweat to the surface in its wake.

"Is that the one?" Rose peers over my shoulder as I stare into the mirror.

The dress hangs in its new spot on the back of my closet door in my room.

Never have I ever purchased a dress because of the way I imagined how it would look as someone takes it off of me.

Never did I think that person would be Edward.

-ptp-

By the time our night class begins on Tuesday night, I've pulled up the login page to check our hits more times than I can count, but I've somehow talked myself out of actually checking. I don't know if it's the fact that Edward doesn't want to know, or the fact that it's become a challenge I've created in my own mind, but I convince myself every time to just wait and find out with Edward together on Thursday night.

What's two more days when I've already waited three days already?

Torture.

That's what it is.

I tell Edward exactly that when we get our fifteen minute break from our lecture.

"I think we'll be okay," Edward says with an exhale after laughing for several minutes at my expense in the hallway next to the vending machine. The late hour of the day has us sharing a bag of Skittles as most dining places on campus near the academic buildings have closed. "Our content is a thousand times better than all the other ones on there."

"A thousand?" I ask with a laugh, reaching into the bag in his hand for a Skittle. I pop one into my mouth as he nods his head in absolute confidence.

"Of course. In fact, I think we should make a bet for Thursday." He stops to lean against the wall and finds a red Skittle. "Closest one to our actual number wins."

"Wins what?" I ask, intrigued now that I may have a good reason to avoid checking our stats.

I watch Edward contemplate the wager for several moments before he snaps his fingers as the thought crosses his mind. "Five minutes of oral pleasure."

I laugh out loud but try to ignore a foreign feeling creeping below my belt. "We can't film that without our faces being seen," I remind him before continuing. "And only five minutes? What the fuck is that about?"

"Fuck. I forgot," he concedes, and then looks at me questioningly. "And what's wrong with five? That's usually how long they last," he jokes, and I'm immediately thinking of the faceless girls who've literally had the pleasure of experiencing five minutes with Edward's tongue.

I ignore the pressure between my legs and press on. "Nothing's wrong with five," I shrug casually as we start to make our way back to the classroom. "I just think that's all you think you'll last for."

He laughs as he plops himself into his seat next to me. "There's a lot you don't know about me just yet."

"Yet?"

I may not know all the intimate details about Edward, but what I do know is that I don't like the way I feel when the girl sitting to the right of him strikes up a conversation for the remaining portion of the lecture.

It's new, this feeling brewing inside of me, and I can't exactly place it right away.

The only thing that shakes off this unnamed and unwanted feeling is knowing that in two days' time, I'll be feeling something from Edward that this girl won't.

-ptp-

"You ready?" Somehow I've survived and made it to Thursday. Edward has arrived at my room about four minutes after Rose had left for dance practice and Alice for her weekly date with Jasper. Internally, I thank God my roommates appreciate my desire for alone time once a week. Habit of being an only child, I guess.

This hardly qualifies as alone time seeing as Edward is sitting in my computer chair and I'm as close as I can be next to him without actually sitting on his lap. We're looking at Edward's open laptop at the login screen for our videos.

"I've been ready since Sunday!" I practically shout at him in excitement. I tap his arm until he's laughing next to me. "Hurry!"

"Okay, okay!" He laughs as his fingers fly across the keyboard. "Let's check out our Vixen_In_Position, shall we?"

I take a deep breath. "$500 was our total on Saturday afternoon, right?"

He nods and swivels in my chair to look over at me, bumping my legs with his own in the process. He repeats the motion several more times. "Any final guesses?"

"Are we still betting?"

He shakes his head. "Next week," he says, and points to the screen. "I'm guessing $1500. You?"

I think out loud to see if he follows my train of thought. "Well, if one video gave us $500 in less than twenty four hours, if we pretend that each day that video gave us that 500 as an average per day, than that one video alone should bring us –"

"Over three grand." Edward's eyebrows raise and he puckers his lips in deep thought.

My mind reels. "For just one video. Not including the other one." I deadpan but continue, the words flying rapidly out of my mouth. "So are you saying that if each video gives us at least $3,000 a week, we could be looking at $6,000?"

"Split between the two of us," he reminds me again. We stay where we are for several moments, the possibilities and scenarios running through our minds.

Lost in thought, Edward's voice brings me back to reality. "You ready?" He asks, and nodding my head, we each inhale deeply, holding our breaths as he scrolls down to the stats on our page.

"FUCK!" We shout in unison, our voices rising as we look at our totals.

"$3,000!? In a week?"

That's $1500 apiece. I think about the three more weeks ahead of us.

"I don't think you'll have to ask Renee for any money," Edward says cockily, getting up from his spot at my desk to reach into his book bag. He pulls out a small, wrapped box and begins to open it.

"What about here?" Edward asks, tossing the last of the wrapping to his little phone tripod stand to the side. He places the stand on the edge of my bed, balancing it on the footboard so his phone faces directly across from the futon beneath Rose's loft bed.

I tilt my head slowly from one side to the other as I contemplate whether or not it would work from that angle. "That should work. Try it," I suggest, watching as Edward makes a few adjustments on his phone. He flips the camera around on the screen so we can see ourselves on screen.

"Okay," he says, clapping his hands together with a loud exhale. He turns to face me. "I'll follow you."

Nodding, I exhale loudly as well, walking over to the futon to test out what will be visible on screen. I maneuver myself so I'm sitting with my back facing the phone. I turn my head to look over at him and the screen over my shoulder. "What do you think?"

"What do I think…" Edward trails off, looking back and forth slowly between me and the moving image of me on the screen of his phone. He swallows thickly before turning to focus solely on the screen. "I think it'll work."

"How about now?" I ask, reaching for the back of the futon with one hand and tipping back as far as I can without showing my face. "Can you see my face?"

His voice sounds different when he answers. "Nope. I think we're good."

"As long as you keep yourself hidden in front of me," I remind him, twisting myself off of the futon to stand in front of it. "We'll have to check before we press play."

"I'll just edit it out," he says, pressing play on the screen. He walks over to where I'm standing and runs a hand through his hair. "Here?" He points to the futon and looks back towards the camera, once again checking for perfection on screen.

"Yeah, I think." I say as he sits himself down on the futon. He remains sitting upright with his back hitting the cushion behind him. "Ready?"

Edward runs his hands up and down his thighs before exhaling again. "Yeah."

With one last look behind me at the camera, I lower myself to his waiting lap. Still fully clothed, still testing out his new phone stand to see the best angles for our video, I try to ignore the feel of him pressed into me as I situate myself on his lap. I try to focus on the reason and not the feelings that have suddenly appeared in my life.

Feelings have no place in this proposition is what I repeat to myself over and over. I try to focus on my bungalow and not the way his eyes focus several inches below the waistband of my shorts, as if he can't help but look to see what is happening between us. I feel the same way once he remembers that this is the first time he has use of both of his hands. He places both hands on my hips, one hand sliding to place a firm grip on my ass. He slides me upwards slowly, his eyes never leaving the space where we connect, our clothes bunching between us.

A tiny gasp escapes from my mouth just as thoughts of my bungalow completely disappear when I feel him hard and ready beneath me.

"Turn and look," he says, his voice low and heady, his hands coming to rest on my hips. He continues to slide me back and forth against him, and the heavy tingle between my legs begins to escalate through no fault of my own.

It's all Edward's fault.

Finally he takes his eyes off of us and I can see the uptake in the rising and falling of his chest as he motions with his chin towards the camera. I forget he had asked me to do something before his hands and other places had distracted me. "To see if you can see my face at all."

Nodding, I turn my head over my shoulder to look at the camera. I see us, the way he's guiding me into a slow and steady rocking above him. I move to sit all the way up, and he does as well, hiding behind my body like a mirror to my own. I turn around to look at him, and the look he's giving me as our bodies move together makes me reach behind him to hold onto the back of the futon. He sits back as well, and I give a look to the camera one last time.

"I can see your hair," I say from my place on top of him, "but that's about it."

"That's fine," he says, his voice a few octaves above a throaty whisper. At this point, I can't tell if he really cares or not. His eyes trail from my face down to where my breasts lay inches from his face, threatening to spill over the top of my tank top. I make a move to get off of him to remove my clothes but his hand on my wrist pulls me back. "Just stay. I'll edit what we don't need."

I don't need much convincing.

The way his voice sounds, temptation wrapped up in barely controlled restraint, has me rolling my hips against him again. This time, he doesn't hesitate to pull me roughly against him so I'm holding onto the bars of the back of the futon behind him, my hair falling between us to create another blanket of concealed identity. He doesn't let it stay there long, using one hand to keep guiding my hips with perfect friction and the other to snarl his fingers through my curls hanging around his face.

I watch as his eyes flash from one part of me to the next as if he can't decide which he wants to take in first. They stay on my hips. They travel to the slip of skin between my shirt and shorts before deciding altogether that they both need to go.

Fast.

He slides the back of my shirt up my back and I finish his lead, crossing my arms in the front to grasp the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. I watch his eyes again, this time never leaving my breasts as they are now on full display in front of him. For him.

I can tell by how long his gaze remains there that there's turmoil inside of his own head, most likely much like my own.

This, right now, is not driven by stats or profits. It's not driven by deadlines for luxuries we've deemed ourselves worthy of.

This, right now, is about nothing except pure, hot desire.

I can see it in the way his head tilts to the side as his fingers tweak perky pink nipples to his commands. I can see it in the way his head falls back against the back of the futon when I free him from the restraints of his pants and waste no time in lowering myself onto his hard, ready and waiting cock.

I can feel it in the way his hands slide down my body, squeezes my ass down to meet his own upward thrusts, then slide their way up my back to press down on my shoulders to press me harder into him. I can see it when he stares at parts of me he wants to taste but can't; I watch the way his tongue slowly spreads across his own bottom lip as if each rock of my hips brings upon its own edible fantasy. The sight of his tongue, the thought of what it could do to me, has me clamping down around him, so much so that I can feel the familiar tethered strings become looser with each passing minute.

He wants to. I want him to. But we agreed to no kissing, which I guess we have both interpreted as no mouths. Period. It's too late to ask with the cameras rolling so it's the last bit of restraint we hold on to.

All I know is that his mouth on me may make me throw away all of those stupid fucking rules.

I can hear it in the way his exhales have become more gruff and demanding, more frequent and vocal than our other two times. I can hear it when our foreheads press up against each other, our breath swirling between us in heavy pants and short lapses of time between each struggle of control. He rests his head on my shoulder and I can feel the heat we create slide against our skin.

"Come for me?"

It's a question he asks that I'm not prepared for and it takes me so off guard I could probably oblige his request instantaneously. He moves his hands from my shoulders back down to my ass, pulling me up and down on himself so vigorously that I can barely answer him coherently.

His breath is labored, his voice choppy and full of want, and I smile as I rise above him again and again, knowing that stupid girl in our night class doesn't get to hear him like this. She doesn't get to know that he likes to talk during sex, his words dripping with sex and heat as he encourages me to completion. She doesn't get to hear the way he loses control, loses himself to the moment and to his primal senses.

It's me.

I'm the one who gets to experience this.

-ptp-

You have no idea how much reviews and follows and favs make me happy – thank you for that and for following me on this crazy journey.

This brings me to another subject: plagiarism. It saddens (and scares!) me to see such wonderful work in our fandom be taken and used for personal gain – when that person isn't even the one who wrote it. I can only pray we all keep our eyes out and support each other!

See you soon!

Oh, and I can't take credit for the whole Robert and Barbara Wire conversation. It was overhead by someone and shared somewhere, but I saw it and knew it belonged in here. I'm not sure who would take credit for participating in such a conversation, but it's yours, whoever you are.