It's Not Over
The door swung freely behind Edward, sailing away from his grasp on greased hinges like it always had. He recognized it as the first familiar sign of his return to Forks.
He'd arrived at this bar looking for Bella. There was no other reason besides the desire to drink. But the two were intertwined: he wanted to see Bella even though he knew that was a desperate idea. And because of that, he wanted to be drunk.
He was sure he had a good chance of finding her here. He'd been casing her apartment with the nonchalance of someone who was on his way to no particular destination, although it was the only place Edward wanted to be. He'd kept her address –he'd memorized it – knowing that some day, he would use it again.
Tonight, he stepped through the narrow corridor that led to the bar and the dance floor. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and the blue lighting that flooded most of the large space. As if by instinct, his gaze drifted around the bar, looking for what might be most familiar, for what his heart had sought for the better part of a year.
He kept walking, his boots hitting the wooden floor with a purpose. This had been their bar. It was where they met, where they hung out; and while it was true that it was also the only bar in Forks, he still looked at as their own. As if no one else had a right to be there, or could only be there with his permission.
He slunk down on a stool that was close to the back door he'd entered. Riley, the bartender, was working at the center of it all before he moved down to Edward's end. A flash of recognition turned into shock.
"Edward, my man! You're back!" Riley reached his hand across the bar and grasped Edward's firmly. "The usual?"
"Thanks, man. Yeah, an IPA sounds good." Edward glanced to his right, and then looked back at Riley just in time to see him look nervously over his shoulder. Sure enough, at the opposite end of the bar, there was a cluster of people, laughing and drinking, and Edward caught a brief glance of long brown hair, familiar and tantalizing, swinging loose.
The woman was pressed against a man whom Edward recognized as Garrett, one of many who worked in the timber industry in the region. It didn't matter, though, who he was – it could have been anyone and Edward would have felt the same, because the woman attached to his side was Bella. Garrett had his arm around her possessively.
Crushing anger rose from the pit of his stomach. She didn't see him yet, didn't detect his hot-blooded gaze, though Riley saw it. Nervously, the bartender gave Edward the side-eye.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," Edward said flatly. "Forget about the beer. I'm outta here."
There was no mistaking the look of relief on Riley's face. "Right. Listen, you need anything?" But the question was useless, spoken to the air. Edward had slipped off the barstool and was gone.
Another ten seconds and he would have hurled himself at them, tearing Bella away and probably beating the crap out of the guy who was standing where Edward so desperately wanted to be. Instead, he forced himself to leave and wait where he hoped he could be alone with Bella later on.
He drove down Elk Road, a short side street off the main drag, and parked at the end, past his destination but where his car could hide in the consuming black shadows of a Pacific Northwest night.
In about an hour, Bella's trucked pulled into her driveway. She jumped out and slammed the cab's door before unlocking and entering her apartment.
Alone.
Relief washed over him like a wave off LaPush. She hadn't brought Garrett home with her. He couldn't account for the hour that lapsed from the time he left the bar and Bella's return, but he made a conscious decision not to worry about that. She was home, and she was alone, and he was going to make sure she knew he was back. For her.
Edward gave her about 15 minutes before he opened the car door and walked down the road, his steps soft despite his determined stride. He rapped on the door, never looking down, staring straight at the peephole and waiting for the moment she would appear.
Footsteps. Silence, then the slick slide of the deadbolt.
The door opened, and Bella wore a puzzled frown that transformed into complete shock. "Edward?"
He leaned on the door frame. "Bella." His gaze, those green eyes that could be blazing or tender…he looked at her as if he hadn't been gone the last six months. As if he'd just shown up at her door after a late shift.
For an unguarded moment, her face showed relief, but then she remembered the sharp stab of his desertion, and her features hardened.
"You have a lot of nerve coming here." She moved to close the door, but Edward swiftly put his hand on it and shoved his way in.
"Bella," he said. "Bella, listen to me."
She choked out a harsh laugh. "Listen to you? I've been waiting for months to hear from you. You disappear into thin air and now you think you can just-"
"Let me explain." He noticed she hadn't moved. That was a good sign. She hadn't invited him in yet, but she hadn't pushed him out, either.
Bella stood in the doorway, swaying slightly as the memories of Edward trickled loose. She didn't respond to his words, just turned and walked back into the apartment. Edward trailed behind her, his gaze on her ass the entire time.
Bella stopped and turned as they reached the kitchen table. "I had no idea you were back."
"I came back for you."
"With no phone call? No message? Not even a damn e-mail?" Her eyes were suddenly ringed with tears. "You never made any fucking effort to contact me, and then you just show up?"
"Who was that guy?" Edward demanded, dodging her questions to ask one of his own – the one he wanted the answer to right now.
"What guy?"
"The one in the bar."
She looked at him in disbelief. "You followed me to the bar? You were there at Newton's?"
"I went looking for you." He edged closer, his intense gaze never leaving her face. Bella felt the heat behind it, a flare that reached out to her skin and sank through, igniting her. She watched his mouth; those lush read lips that had kissed her beyond reason and explored every inch of her body. That time was over, or so she'd believed. This much was certain: it had been months since she'd known Edward's mouth.
"You could have just called."
"I wanted to see you."
"Why didn't you-"
"I needed to see you." Edward could stand it no longer. He reached out and drew his fingertips across her face, tracing from her cheek to her chin. "I missed you."
She ducked away, a scowl marring her pretty face. "Yeah, so much you couldn't pick up the damn phone the whole time you were gone."
"I left for you."
She stared, incredulous. "What? What the hell kind of lie is that?"
"I had to go. I was going to get a better job and then send for you, call you, to ask you to join me in Tacoma." Better she should think that than know the truth: that her father, who had always hated Edward and viewed him as a dead-end for his daughter, found out Edward had a short prison record for possession and distribution. Edward hadn't mustered the courage to tell Bella yet, so Charlie said he'd do it for him…unless Edward left her.
It was about the worst decision he'd made in his life, second only to the one where he'd agreed to hold some drugs for James. But he'd been released from prison with a record of good behavior. He found work in a lumber mill, and met Bella. Their connection gave him a greater high than he might ever have had from anything else, and in the short time they were together she kept him on the straight and narrow, loved him fiercely, and put her faith in him every day.
He repaid that by slinking out of town without telling her the truth, believing her father's words that Bella deserved more. When he couldn't stand being away from her another second, he came back to Forks, hoping to go home, return to his job, and more than anything, be with Bella again.
Edward was angry – angry at himself, at Charlie Swan, at everything that brought him to this point; and right now all that anger was coming out directly at her, for having the nerve to live her life and go out with another man after he'd left her. With a sharp inhale he lowered his head and glared.
"What?" For a moment, Bella looked almost frightened.
He came closer and asked again, "Who was he?"
"Who was who?" He thought she was playing coy. That pissed him off even more.
"The guy at the bar." Edward knew who he was, of course, but he wanted to hear what she said.
He was standing so close she could smell him, the unique scent that was Edward's, all light spice and cold air. It made her heady, unable to think.
Bella had just about decided to move away from Forks and resurface in Seattle or even Portland, to start over and leave behind every reminder of a love that had consumed her all the more fiercely, it seemed, for the brief time it lasted. Now he'd returned with expectations that she couldn't fathom, because he'd left her with nothing except an enormous hole where she'd once let him in. She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a pint of ice cream, then rummaged through a drawer for a spoon. Edward watched, unmoving, as the tie around her robe loosened.
"Was I supposed to wait for you?" Bella turned to face him with every intention of being defiant. The sight of him standing in her kitchen, his tee shirt snug across his chest and his hips shifting as he angled himself toward her, pulled her dangerously close to where she'd always been with Edward: weak and unable to resist. She shoved the spoon into the ice cream, and he watched as she ate from it, dragging it out of her mouth slowly.
"I thought you loved me," he said. His hands lifted until his palms were almost up, but then he dropped them to his side.
Furious, Bella threw the spoon aside. "And I thought you loved me!" she shouted. "You left without a word! You come back and show up on my doorstep…goddamn it, Edward, you still haven't told me what happened. That story about a job is bullshit."
"I will. I promise." A pleading tone crept into his voice as he moved ever nearer. "This is the truth: I came back because I couldn't stay away." Love, anger and lust pulled at his gut, drawing his voice down so low it was mostly a rumble.
He stepped slowly toward her, pinning her against the counter. She grabbed its edge, her robe puckering out and revealing the old tee shirt she'd put on for sleep.
"I love you. I never stopped. Believe it." Edward's voice fell even deeper, taking Bella down with it. "I think about you all the time. At night…God, I can't fucking stand it."
His head cocked to the side. "You love me, too. You still want me. I know it; I can hear your heart." He put his left palm on her chest, just inside the v-neck of her shirt. "I can feel it."
Swiftly, his hands came up to her face and he kissed her, firmly at first, then more demanding. "Open. Open for me," he hissed against her mouth.
With a harsh breath, she complied, meeting his tongue with her own. Bella had ached for him, and it was like nothing to slip right back into it…but then, she was damned if she'd let him on her this easy.
She pulled back and looked at him. "You think you can walk in out of nowhere…" Her voice trailed off. "No, Edward." She pushed his arm away, taking advantage of his surprise. "Fuck this. And fuck you." Always leery of his hold on her, she wasn't surprised at the devastation she felt when he left. How could she trust him now?
Without even thinking, she walked down the hall to her bedroom – the worst direction she could take, under the circumstances, but it was a small apartment, and her options were few. There was nowhere to hide.
Edward flew after her and grabbed her elbow. "Don't walk away."
She pulled herself out of his grasp. "Don't tell me what to do."
He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her against the wall. "I've fucking waited for months to see you again." He kissed her, rough again, heated and demanding. Bella squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the twin pain of missing him and of having him back, wanting only for him to know how much he'd hurt her. She nipped at his lip, keeping her teeth on him for just long enough.
He pressed his hips against hers, the thick denim of his jeans rubbing against her thin boyshorts. She felt his cock straining against the material, prominent, right there between her legs. She could push him back, could tell him to leave if only she could manage to pull herself away from him.
She was angry. She pulled at his hair, that soft, thick thatch of copper she loved. "You left…You went away," she sobbed.
He eased up, pulling his hips away slightly so he could stand up straight. "I would never stay away. You knew I'd be back," he said, reaching through the opening of her robe.
"I didn't," she whispered.
"I came back," he repeated. "I can't be apart from you." His hands were everywhere now, caressing and demanding, squeezing her ass. "Bella. Bella, beautiful girl, my baby, my love, my Bella," he chanted softly, his head bowed.
Frustration – sexual, emotional - enveloped her like an itchy blanket, and Bella moaned in defeat. She unzipped Edward's jeans and pushed them down past his hips, just enough to give her hands room to get in, to get through. She thrust past the elastic of his underpants, a ragged sigh escaping her lips as her hand grasped his cock. Edward groaned, laying his head in the crook of her neck.
"Touch me. God, I missed you," he whispered, his lips moving urgently along her skin, sucking and biting.
Bella pulled on his cock, her movements erratic with his jeans and underwear still in her way. She shoved at his pants again, thwarted.
Edward picked her up, lifting her so her legs wrapped right around his waist, and walked to her room. Once they were at the bed, he set her back on her feet and peeled her robe away, leaving her to stand in front of him in her tee shirt and underpants.
In one quick movement he was on her again, kissing her, her own tongue trying to keep up with his. Then he nudged her, finally pushing her down so she was flat on her back, splayed and surprised.
She sat up and yanked his jeans down, this time using all her strength; and Edward kicked his shoes off and finally removed his pants. Bella pulled his tee shirt over his head, making him lose his balance so he tumbled forward, grabbing her shoulders. As if in response, he yanked at her shirt, and before she could lift her arms, he fisted the material at the back and tore it in half.
Panting hard, they paused for a second, each gauging the hunger in each other's eyes. Bella reached again through cotton and elastic, tugging at his cock, feeling the smoothness, enjoying the thick ridge at the top. Edward moaned, throwing his head back and almost getting lost in the sensation before pushing her back on the bed.
She bounced slightly before regaining her balance, then sat up on her elbows. Edward knelt on the bed and moved her further up to the headboard as she protested. Without a word, he grabbed the tops of her underwear and pulled them down, tossing them off to a corner of the room.
He pressed her knees further apart and edged himself between them. Leaning toward his right, he stroked her stomach, then trailed his hand over the small, feminine rise at the middle of her legs. As he moved lower, his fingers slowly dragged and stroked through her lips.
"So beautiful," he murmured. "So sweet. Baby, you're so wet. And I want to know, do you still taste so good?" He pushed her knees further out and bowed his head, tickling his tongue up and down the length of her. Edward stopped and circled around her opening without entering her, then flattened his tongue and licked back up in one smooth stroke, playing at the top right where she was most sensitive.
Bella arched her neck as her chest lifted in response, a moan rising from deep within. Her legs tightened, then relaxed, as Edward continued stroking with his tongue. He moved up and down several times, spending a little more time around her clit when he reached the top; his tongue dancing and teasing, sometimes barely touching, and sometimes swirling around the tip. He closed his eyes and groaned, feeling her swell under his mouth, the evidence of her arousal as undeniable as his own.
He knew when to press harder and when to lighten up – he remembered every level of her sensitivity as it increased before she came, and that memory gave him all the power he wanted. He alternated stroking her with his tongue flat or pointed, staying a few seconds ahead of her when he knew she was about to tip over, then teasing her until he knew she couldn't take it. She twitched when the sensations became too much, and he moved off to the side of her clit, tucking his tongue into the fold and stroking gently, firmly, until he felt her hips rise. She was moving to try and catch his tongue where she wanted it, so he stroked over her clit with small, tender movements, like a final aria.
Her moans became breathy words. "Oh…oh, God…she whispered, before her lower body arched off the bed with one final cry and she shifted away from him, unable to bear his mouth on her as her orgasm subsided.
Edward kissed the inside of her thighs gently. "Does Garrett," he whispered, his voice catching, "does Garrett do that for you?"
Bella said nothing, her arm flung over her eyes as she squeezed them shut. A tear escaped out of the corner and slid down the side of her face. She turned toward her pillow, as if to wipe the tear away or maybe simply to hide it. She would never admit the defeat she felt at his question.
Her silence told him everything he wanted to hear.
Edward rose, his hands moving up along her body until his face was level with her chest. "I missed this. I missed these," he murmured, kissing all around her breasts until his mouth, breathy and humid, hovered over a nipple. "I missed you." He sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and around it, then tugging just hard enough before soothing it with his mouth again.
Another moan escaped from Bella's throat. Each sound now was involuntary, a reaction to Edward's every touch, lick, and suck. He moved further up her body, his cock stroking the sensitive place between her legs where his tongue had expertly worked her. In no time, he would enter her, Bella knew, and she was long past taking a stand. All she wanted was to feel him in her again.
He shifted so he was balanced on one hand and then grabbed his cock, stopping just before he pushed inside her. Edward looked up at her, his eyes boring into hers as he slowly moved in, pulled back, then moved all the way in. His breath was coming in pants.
"This is us," he whispered. "Only me and you. Always."
Bella nodded before the sensations took her away. He was unhurried at first, and then his thrusting grew harder, less languid. Like a reflex, her legs came up and wrapped around his waist. She tilted her hips just enough to capture him more deeply, and Bella felt the familiar buildup with each of Edward's strokes. It didn't matter whether she'd had one lover or a thousand. None of them would ever feel like this.
There was that soaring sensation as her whole lower body sang with each movement, and her eyes closed when she cried out. As her own orgasm ebbed, Edward's thrusts intensified until he stopped, moaning, pulling back a little, then shoving into her again, hard, hard, so hard, so close, so that every inch of skin was flush with hers outside of where they were joined. He buried his face in her neck and sank down on top of her body, his arms sliding behind her so they encircled and held her; as if he was afraid she would just up and leave.
Bella relaxed her legs but didn't let them fall; she kept them loosely bound around his waist, her heels stroking up and down the backs of his legs. She noticed he was shaking.
She closed her eyes again. Suddenly, his trembling and the sobs that were muffled against her neck were more than she could bear, almost bringing on more own tears. Her arms clasped him as if steadying him could stall the pain that would get worse tonight. Bella had so many questions…and none of them could be answered with more sex, as tempting as that might be. The hard part started now.