The Vibration of Love - Chapter 18: Sex, Lies & Videotape




Author’s Note: In our reality (the one where you, the reader, and I, the author live), Robert Pattinson has two older sisters. In my opinion, I think that when someone chooses to live in the public eye, it’s reasonable for them to expect to be followed by paparazzi or to be a character in a FanFiction story. However, I don’t think it’s fair for the paparazzi to stalk his family or friends; in the spirit of keeping his family’s privacy, I have given him a fictional younger sister in this story.

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BPOV

We were in the limo on the way home after the appointment with Margaret. Thank God I had asked Rob to schedule this. I needed his arms wrapped around me right now.

“Now what do we do? I was so terrified she would tell us that one baby was gigantic compared to the other that I didn’t consider other possibilities.”

“Bella, if you are ten weeks pregnant, then you were already pregnant when you started shifting realities.”

“Not if I’m pregnant with vampire twins. In Breaking Dawn, Bella had a bump after two weeks.”

“We’ve been through this before. She also got violently ill right away. You aren’t sick.”

“I guess we should do a paternity test. I know there are risks, but it’s not as risky as giving birth to a vampire. God, I dread telling Margaret I want a paternity test. How the hell do I explain that one? ‘I’m madly in love with my gorgeous husband, but I had an affair.’ Right, who would believe I’d ever cheat on the ‘Sexiest Man Alive?’”

“I think Margaret’s opinion of your morality is the least of our worries,” he said as he kissed my forehead. Ask your Mom to call her to request the test. Then you won’t have to deal with it.”

“Good idea.” I ran my finger along Rob’s chest where the top of his shirt was unbuttoned and felt a wave of desire surge through me. “You really are the sexiest man alive, you know.”

“Feeling better?” He laughed.

“Mmmhmm,” I replied as I ran my hand up the back of his head and pulled his lips to mine. “Make me forget everything for awhile,” I whispered between kisses.

“We’re almost home,” he said, as he ran his lips along my neck and up to my ear.

“Tell Paul to keep driving,” I replied.

He smiled and pressed the intercom. “Paul?”

“Yes, Mr. Pattinson?”

“We want to take a drive. Take us up the coast. We’ll tell you when to turn around.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Come here, Mrs. Pattinson,” he said pulling me on to his lap.

“I seem to recall you saying something about making passionate love to me right before my most recent departure,” I said as I straddled his hips and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“You’re right. I intend to keep that promise right now,” he said as he pulled my shirt over my head.

He leaned forward and kissed me, and I pulled his shirt off. He laid back on the seat giving me full access to his ripped torso. I ran my fingers slowly along his chest and then traced each ripple and ridge that defined his six million dollar abs.

“Do you remember being in the hot tub right before we made love the first time?” I asked him.

He laughed. “I’m a little young for Alzheimer’s. Yes, baby, every second of being in that hot tub with you is scorched into my memory.”

“That night was the first time I ran my hands over your body like this. I remember thinking that I had never felt anything sexier, and it’s still true. I wanted to get out of the water so I could run my tongue along these ripped muscles.” I lowered my head to his chest and my tongue followed the same path that my fingers has just explored.

“And this,” I said, tracing the line of hair that ran down the center of his body, “drives me utterly insane.” One kiss at a time, I worked my way down his mid section, stopping to circle his naval with my tongue. “It’s like an arrow pointing the way just in case I get too distracted and forget where my final destination is.

And just when I was starting to think it couldn’t possibly get any sexier, there’s this incredible V right here.” I ran my fingers along his hip bones and slid my tongue along the spot where his jeans touched his skin.

He inhaled quickly and exhaled a soft moan. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be making love to you,” he said as he sat up and gently pushed me onto my back. He slipped off his pants and quickly rid me of the rest of my clothes.

He leaned over me and lowered his mouth to my neck, letting his lips linger on the spot that never failed to send waves of lust through me.

“This is one of my many favorites spots on your body. I only have to kiss you right here, and you are instantly ready for me.”

His lips traveled down my arm. He leaned back so his legs were straddling my hips and brought my hand to his lips. He took each finger, one by one, slowly into his mouth while he stared into my eyes.

When he finished adoring my hand, he lowered his mouth to the top of my breast and gently kissed me. He ran his hand along the tops of my breasts and then traced a line down my cleavage with his tongue.

“When you wear something that shows off this part of your body,” he said, running his tongue back up to the top of my other breast,” it takes all of my self control not to rip it off of you.” He kissed and licked everywhere on my breasts except my nipples until I started to whimper.

I felt his mouth form a smile and then he finally circled his tongue along one nipple while he gently squeezed and stroked the other.

“I can’t take it anymore,” I moaned. “Please…”

“Please what, baby?” He asked as he slid his tongue along my abdomen.

I moaned again in reply as he slid his fingers between my folds.

“You’re dripping wet.” He ran his slippery fingers back up my torso and around my lips.

I looked into his eyes. “I can’t wait any longer.”

I reached down and guided him into me with one hand and pulled his neck toward me with the other. Our lips met and our tongues entwined as he buried himself deep within me. We both moaned as our bodies found the connection they so desperately needed.

I was so ready when he entered me that I came almost immediately. As soon as he felt my spasms subside, he pulled out, and I gasped at the loss. He leaned back and pulled my ankles onto his shoulders and plunged back into me. I screamed as he buried himself completely. Each time his cock slid back inside me, his head stroked my G-spot. He licked one of his fingers and started to circle my clit.

“Oh my God!” I threw my head back and exploded around him again. His thrusts slowed to allow me to come down, then he slid all the way out of me. He pulled me up so we were both sitting with our legs wrapped around each other, and then he slid back inside of me.

My fingers laced themselves through his hair as I pulled his mouth to mine. When he could no longer hold back, he buried his mouth in my neck and screamed as he poured into me. When he could breath, he put his mouth next to my ear. “I love you so fucking much.”

We collapsed onto the seat, our arms and legs entangled. I ran my finger along his jaw and circled his lips before kissing him gently. “And I love you so fucking much,” I said as I smiled into our kiss.

I rested my head on my husband’s perfect chest and listened to him breath. He ran his fingers through my hair and along my arms until I heard his breathing become very soft and regular. I looked at his peaceful face and smiled. When he fell asleep after the type of encounter we just had, he slept like the dead.

I carefully extracted myself from his arms and slipped my clothes on. I glanced out the window to see where we were and then dug through my purse for my phone. I sent a text to the manager of the Four Seasons in Santa Barbara requesting one of their Villas. I received a reply within minutes with the Villa number so we could bypass check in. Having close contacts in the hotel industry definitely came in handy.

I sent a text to our driver, Paul, letting him know I didn’t want to use the intercom and wake Rob. I told him our destination.

A little while later, the car stopped outside the Villa. Rob started to stir; when he opened his eyes, his angelic smile lit up his face. He yawned, sat up and kissed me.

“Are we home?”

“No,” I simply said with a smile.

“Oh, so I have to put my clothes back on?” He asked, kissing my neck.

“Well, I guess we could spend several more hours in this limo, but I’d really like a few basic necessities like running water, a meal, a toothbrush and a bed.”

“Umhm, your idea of basic, usually has several stars next to its name,” he smiled.

“I can’t help it if my family owns one of the best resorts in the world. Everywhere else is simply basic,” I said with a grin.

He glanced out the window. “So where are we?”

“The Four Seasons, Santa Barbara. I know the manager, so I sent him a text and arranged for this Villa. It’s ready as soon as you are,” I said, running my finger along his shirtless chest. “I suppose you could make a run for it, but it might be a little awkward if there does happen to be a photographer around,” I smirked.

“You couldn’t find a ‘clothing optional’ resort,” he said, pretending to pout while he slipped his pants back on.

“They exist, but they don’t tend to have five star ratings. Their lack of hygiene usually causes issues with the ratings people,” I said, smiling.

He started to button his shirt, and I said, “Please, allow me. It’s only fair I help you put it back on.”

“And you’d better do it quickly or it’s coming back off before we get out of this limo,” he said, bending to run his lips along my neck.

“You are quite insatiable lately,” I said, kissing him.

“Lately?” He opened the door and stepped out and then reached for my hand.

We ordered room service and stretched out on the lounge chairs in the Villa’s private courtyard.

“Is this a rest stop or are we staying overnight?” Rob asked.

“Well, Mom and Dad want us to stay, of course, so they can spoil the kids. And I just realized I haven’t been off the resort’s property since this whole reality changing nightmare started. It feels good to get away. You did manage to make me forget about it for awhile. Thank you.”

He leaned over and kissed me and rested his hand on my cheek. “You are so welcome. It made me forget too. So does that mean we’re staying?”

“Mmmhmm, if you would like to?” I replied.

“I think we need this,” he said.

The concierge delivered our lunch, and I asked him to send over two massage therapists.

I saw Rob raise an eyebrow. After the concierge left, he smiled. “Being married to you is a trip!”

“I’m sure you have a long list of reasons why, but what’s the latest reason?” I asked.

“I’m still not used to being wealthy. I couldn’t begin to spend all the money I’ve made over the past few years. And being married to you puts me in some sort of stratospheric income tax bracket that I never knew existed. So we’re filthy rich, and it still would not have occurred to me to have two massage therapists sent here, but that is an exceptional idea!”

“Oh, there is so much I can teach you about how to spend money,” I laughed. “The irony though is we will never see a bill for today. Pierre, the manager, will comp our entire stay.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because some day he knows he’ll need a favor from my family or the resort, and he’ll cash in our visit today.” I smiled. “That’s why the rich continue to get richer. That’s also why I give money away as fast as I make it. I realize how unfair that is, so I do what I can to balance the scales.”

“I know. It’s amazing to me that you have never kept any of the money you’ve made over the years, yet we still live an extraordinarily lavish lifestyle. And I’ve barely touched the money I’ve made except for what I’ve done for my parents and my sister! It’s like somehow, all of our expenses are magically covered by your family’s connections.”

“That and my trust fund,” I said. “We’ll have to be very careful with Kate and Jordan and these two,” I said, patting my stomach. “They need to understand that not everyone on the planet has a trust fund to take care of their every need, and it’s their obligation to give back.”

“I’m not at all worried about that,” he smiled. “It’s far too important to you for them to learn any other way.”

Our massage therapists arrived, and we spent the afternoon on side by side massage tables. When they left, we were so relaxed, we curled up on one of the shaded oversized lounge chairs and took a nap.

When we woke up, I was starving. “I have a craving for a steak,” I said.

Rob laughed. “I have never seen you eat a steak. This will be interesting.”

“I know. Weird cravings happened when I was pregnant with Kate and Jordan, too. With Kate, I craved lima beans, which I normally can’t stand. What was it with Jordan?”

“Popsicles,” he smiled.

“That’s right! I couldn’t get enough of lime flavored popsicles! Let’s try to get away with eating in the dining room. I’m tired of being cocooned.”

“Don’t we have to dress up for that?” He asked.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I smiled.

As if on cue, there was a knock, and the concierge appeared with the order I had called into the hotel’s shop. He handed me a garment bag, and I thanked him.

I unzipped it, and handed Rob his new suit, shirt, tie and shoes.

“When did you do this?” He asked.

“When you were on the phone with Karen,” I smiled.

“What else is in the bag?” He asked.

“You’ll see. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Can I join you?”

“Absolutely not! I’m starving, and if you join me, we’ll never get to the dining room.”

He pretended to pout. “Alright, I’ll just go use the other shower – the very empty, lonely shower.”

I laughed and went to get ready.

Forty-seven minutes later, I checked myself out in the full length mirror. He’s definitely going to like this outfit, I thought. I had picked out a beige Herve Leger Swarovski crystal-embellished dress. I chose it specifically with his comment in mind about wanting to rip off my dress when I wore something that exposed my cleavage.

I slipped on the stilettos, dabbed on some perfume and strutted into the living room.

Rob was reading. When I walked in, he dropped the magazine on the floor, stood up and smiled. “You are breath-taking.”

“Thank you. Anyone can look good in a $4000 dress.”

“The dress is nice, but you make the dress.” He ran his hand along my cheek. “You’re glowing. You’re always beautiful, but when you’re pregnant, you’re vampire-beautiful.”

I laughed. “Good, then I can look as gorgeous as you do.”

He rolled his eyes and then took my hand. “Let’s go. I’m famished. And I want to get dinner over with so I can come back here and ruin that $4000 dress by ripping it off of you.”

“That was exactly the effect I was hoping for when I picked it out,” I said, smiling.

I had called Pierre and asked him to arrange for a quiet table. When the hostess greeted us, I noticed she wouldn’t meet my eye, and she seemed very flustered, almost embarrassed. That’s odd. She sees famous people every day. What’s up with her? I thought.

I thought we would be safe from curious gawkers or frenzied fans at this particular hotel since it catered to the rich and famous. Normally in a place like this, people didn’t care who we were, or they wanted to appear too cool to care, so we usually enjoyed a quiet, uninterrupted dinner.

When we walked into the dining room, however, I was aware of every eye in the room turning to stare at us. I felt Rob tense up and pull me closer. I knew this was torture for him. Despite being one of the most famous actors in the world, he still hated being the center of attention.

When we sat down, I squeezed his hand. “There goes the effects of that massage. I’m sorry, honey. This is very strange. Do you want to leave?”

Before he could answer, Pierre appeared. “Bonjour! Welcome! I’m surprised you decided to dine with us this evening, but delighted, of course.”

Rob and I looked at each other. “Why are you surprised, Pierre? This is one of the best restaurants in Southern California. I have to check out our competition, you know.”

“Oh, Bella, you flatter me. We are no competition for the Cielo. No, I am surprised that you wanted to be in public so soon, but it is good, yes, to just get it over with and move on, right?”

I noticed he was rambling and seemed nervous. Pierre is one of the smoothest talking hotel managers I’ve ever met. There’s no way Rob’s celebrity is making him this flustered. Something is very wrong, I thought.

“Pierre, please sit down,” I said.

“Oh, merci, Bella, but I can not. It is so busy tonight.”

I met his eye. “I insist,” I said, leaving no room for any further argument.

I saw Rob look at me out of the corner of my eye and knew he was wondering what I was doing.

Pierre nodded and sat down.

I lowered my voice so only Pierre and Rob could hear me. “Pierre, I’ve known you for a long time, so cut the bullshit. We’ve been holed up in our room all day. What is wrong? The tension in this room is thick enough for your chef to carve.”

“Mon Dieu, you don’t know!”

“What don’t we know, Pierre?”

He turned pale and became even more flustered.

“Is anything wrong with my family?”

“No! No, Bella, it is nothing like that. As far as I know, your family is fine!”

“Then what is it?”

“Your driver, he…”

“Paul? Yes, what about him?”

“He had a digital recorder hidden in your limo. He taped you while you were…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. I knew what he was going to say. My eyes met Rob’s and as the horror of what Paul had done dawned on us, a camera’s flash went off in our faces.

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The next chapter is titled: ‘Nothing Sacred.’

Nothing Sacred (1937) was produced by David O. Selznick and starred Carole Lombard and Fredric March. It portrayed an extremely cynical view of newspapers, reporters and the stories they go after.



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