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The Thirtieth Day
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"Ow!" I hissed under my breath as my toe collided with the corner of the dresser. I shook off the pain and sat on my bed, punishing my feet further as I slid them into my too-tight, white satin heels. I'd be lucky if I could even stand upright, much less walk.
I glanced in the mirror as I stood, fluffing my hair a bit, thinking that my eyes looked a bit dusky--not in the smoldering seductress, eye-shadow way, either. Unfortunately, I'd barely gotten any sleep the night before; Edward had slept so restlessly, tossing and turning to the point of absurdity, and I'd finally woken him to make sure that he wasn't having a nightmare.
"Of course it was a dream," he'd mumbled groggily before pressing his face back into a pillow.
"Oh, ho, I see," I'd snickered, snuggling up to his back. "Panty fantasy?"
I'd received a very low, frustrated mumble of, "Keep your distance, you sex fiend."
Now, it was nearing eight AM, and we were scrambling around the house, packing last minute toiletries and tidbits that we might need for the weekend.
A few months back, Esme and Carlisle had moved into a gorgeous house in Monterey, and had been asking us to visit for quite some time. Esme had finally persuaded us to make the trip from Fresno, especially since Edward's Uncle Aro was in town for the World Affairs conference, which was taking place in San Francisco--it would be my first time meeting him, and I was as jittery as a coke-addicted chipmunk.
Edward's shout broke me out of my hair-care war. "Bella, are you coming?"
Too easy.
"Yeah," I answered, calling out into the hall. "I just need to…find my suitcase..." I glanced around frantically, knowing I had left it right by the closet, and of course, it was no longer there.
"I have it--I'm putting it in the car, now," he called back. "Emmett just got here. Five minutes?"
"Okay, be right there!" I replied, checking myself in the mirror once more, wrinkling my nose at my khaki capris, white, thick-strapped tank-top, the light yellow cardigan draped over my shoulders, and my pointy shoes. I was officially out of place, and looked like a fucking marshmallow peep.
"Yo, Bellabean!" called a familiar voice, and I turned around to see Emmett grinning at me from the doorway, decked out in jeans, of course. "Whoa, or should I say Jellybean. Is it Easter again, my little pastel princess?"
I threw my purse at him and scoffed as I walked to the door. "Shut up, sweater-vest," I shot back, causing Emmett to laugh and rub his shirt. "I'm trying to--fit in, or something."
"Oh, no, no, no," he said, waving me back and tossing my purse to the floor. "Honestly, Bella, hasn't Rosalie taught you anything?"
I stumbled over my feet as he put his hands on my shoulders, steering me backward, and catching me before I could land on my ass. "Emmett, what--"
"No offense, but you look like you stole my Gran's clothes," he said teasingly. "I thought you were going to help me out and make Edward sweat a little. I only have, like, seventeen hours left, and--"
"You boys and this stupid bet," I said, stopping to press my fingertips to my temples, feeling my head pound slightly. "And, I am on his side, you know. He's done… really well."
He barked a laugh. "You don't sound pleased."
"What? I--I'm proud of him," I said, but Emmett grinned, detecting the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. I sighed in resignation. "Fine, I'm surprised, that's all. I expected him to cave by the second week, if anything. And really, I did try to tempt him last week--and honestly, I'm thinking he's a little too good at holding in his inner horndog. I mean, I pulled out toys--"
"Whoa, okay, easy," he said, patting my shoulder. "You might be my sister someday, so let's skip the fine details of your romps with my little bro, shall we?"
I tried not to grumble under my breath and smoothed the creases in my pants. "Anyway, it's all for naught. I hope you brought your money. He's not budging."
"But still, Bells--can't you try a little harder? For me? I mean, pants and a sweater?!" he stressed, staring at me as though I had draped myself in peels of seaweed and toxic sludge. "Not that you're not as cute as a little, yellow bunny, but can you please put on something open? Show a bit of those perky, little snack trays for my boy!"
"Snack--snack trays?" I uttered, crinkling my nose while covering my chest with my hands, even though it was already concealed. "God, Emmett, you're such a pig. And I'm not going to look like some kind of untamed hooker in front of your parents, and your foreign affairs officer uncle, of all people!"
"I have it on good authority that Uncle Aro has definitely enjoyed his share of snack tr--"
"Oh, don't tell me," I said, feeling a childish urge to plug my ears. "Anyway, my clothes are tasteful, all right? Besides, I brought a dress for the party tonight, so--"
"As lovely as it is that you two are having such a nice chat," came Edward's voice from down the hall, "if we're going to make brunch, I'd suggest moving some ass. Emmett, stop gawking at my girl--"
Edward poked his head into the bedroom, then, and stared at me, breaking into an amused grin. "I'm sorry," he said, stepping in my direction, holding out his hand. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Edward Cullen. Bella never mentioned she had a polo instructor."
My shoulders wilted, and I stared at him tiredly. "Thanks a lot," I said, picking up a small travel bag and shoving it into his outstretched hand. "Enjoy the quiet drive. I'm riding with Emmett."
"Mm-hmm, sure you are," he said, giving me a quick kiss. "You look fine. But let's go, huh?"
He tucked my bag under his arm and walked toward the door, nudging Emmett on his way out. Emmett playfully shoved him back, then turned to me. "You were saying…"
I turned back to the mirror and scrutinized my appearance again, scratching the back of my head, pressing my lips together. I supposed I shouldn't really care if I was wearing warm, beige, boring colors. It was brunch, for God's sake; the cocktail party Esme was throwing wasn't until later that evening--that's when I figured I'd try to look sexy. Edward had never seen the dress I was planning on wearing, after all, and I was hoping to show off something ravishing that he could rip off of me in a blind passion after the bet was over, but the mischief twinkling in Emmett's eyes was enough to halfway coax me to pull out the big guns early; that, and Edward's mocking of my attire.
"I know you're as frustrated as I am," Emmett pressed.
"True," I agreed, pulling at my shirt. "However, come later, when Edward makes it past midnight, you're going to give him five-hundred dollars and he and I are going to have some wild, erotic escapade. You, Emmett Cullen, cannot offer me that.
"Besides, Edward and I have gotten even closer than we were before. Sex isn't everything. I love him, and thirty days is nothing, really--it's just a month. And after tonight, we'll be better from the whole experience."
It was cheesy, but it was true. I cleared my throat, gave Emmett a nod, and scooped up my purse. I patted his arm as I stepped past him, pulling my cardigan tighter over my shoulders, and he sighed behind me.
"I should have let him keep it at two," he breathed.
I froze mid-step, turning back on one constricted, uncomfortable heel. "Sorry?"
"He originally bragged that he could go two months," Emmett said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. "I told him he was crazy."
I bit the inside of my lip, brow furrowing in a deep crease. "Two months?" I echoed.
Emmett nodded. "I mean, I made him agree to only one month, because I didn't want you both to be all hot and bothered once we're in Belize."
Emmett, Rosalie, Edward, and I had planned a trip to Mexico; we were supposed to be leaving in two weeks. Belize was going to be our ultimate vacation--we'd never been out of the United States together--only separate. I was looking forward to pristine, sandy beaches, cold cocktails, hikes, and swimming in crystalline, blue water; numerous evenings of tantalizing touches, dancing, and rolling in the sheets with Edward were also included--at least, I'd planned such activities. Apparently, Edward hadn't thought as in depth as I had.
I sucked in my breath and stalked back into my room. "Tell Edward five minutes," I told Emmett, tossing my cardigan on the bed. "And get out. I'm getting naked."
Emmett's eyes widened and his lips curled upward. "You want me to tell him to meet you in here in five minutes?"
"No, I'm changing," I said simply, unbuttoning my khakis. "So I'd suggest closing the door."
"Yes ma'am," he said, chuckling, and pulled the door shut, disappearing from my sight.
I stalked to my closet and pushed a section of clothes to the side, sliding hangers until I found what I was looking for: a black-and-white-striped jersey dress that clung to each and every curve of my body. I'd been saving it for vacation--that, and the matching pair of leather peeptoe stilettos that Rosalie had urged me to buy. It was sad, that at the age of twenty-six, I still needed help picking out my own shoes.
But I didn't need help now.
I shamelessly stripped off my country-club get-up and pulled the dress over my head, shaking my hair and parting it to the side. I quickly dashed over to my dresser and opened my jewelry case, pulling out a different necklace and earrings. After I had transformed myself, I rushed into the bathroom for one more thing: Vanilla Ginger body oil. Its scent was heavenly, and the best part: it was lickable.
A few drops of it usually turned Edward into some kind of sensual scavenger, seeking out the places I'd dabbed, kissing and nipping at every bit of my skin until he had successfully found every scented spot.
I dotted my neck, wrists, and collarbone with my secret weapon, tucked the little bottle into my purse, spread a new layer of peach gloss over my lips, and turned off all the lights. I was ready.
As I descended the stairs outside of our complex, I peeked at Edward's car; the windows were tinted, so I couldn't see him, but I heard Emmett holler like a jackass out of his SUV, "That's what I'm talking about, B!" For a moment, I toyed with the idea of actually leaving Edward to ride by himself, but decided against it. I had some scheming to do.
"Sorry, I was changing," I apologized as I shut myself into the passenger seat of Edward's car, buckling my seatbelt without looking at him. "You were right. I looked pretty silly, so…"
I turned to look out the window, and only looked back at Edward when the car didn't move. He was staring at me, lips pressed together, fingers curled around the steering wheel, and the words I'm One Horny Motherfucker practically written all over his face.
Mm. His face, all voluptuous and tantalizing. God damn it, he was such a glorious, lusty mess.
"It's only forty-five minutes, right?" I asked, pretending to be oblivious. "We'll make it by nine…as long as you're capable of thrusting the stick shift into gear. Or getting firm with the accelerator. Or, is that against the rules, too?"
I snickered at my joke, and leaned across the seat to kiss his freshly-shaven cheek, lingering just long enough for him to get a whiff of what I was wearing. Pavlov couldn't have predicted his response any better: he inhaled sharply and grasped my face in his hands, pressing his mouth deep against mine, eagerly exploring my lips.
I smiled through the kiss, pleased at the success I was already having.
"I--missed--your--enthusiasm," I breathed as I leaned away, only to have him pull me back with each word. I trapped his bottom lip between both of mine, letting my teeth graze his skin, and he groaned softly as my fingers traveled through his hair. His hands were traveling, too--down my arms, waist, and beyond. I giggled, knowing that I should pull away before we got carried away; Emmett was still in the parking lot, after all.
"Edward," I managed to say as his mouth found my neck, "we should go. Emmett--your parents are waiting for--"
His lips were back on mine, quickly shutting me up.
Heat, fire, need, desire.
I was slowly losing control of my thoughts as his touch began to consume me. So ardent were his hands, I found myself undoing my seatbelt and curling my legs to kneel on my seat, stretching further to meet him. He hadn't touched me like this in weeks, and my hormones weren't about to let me stop. I moaned softly as he sucked under the arc of my jaw, his breath hot and fluttering under my ear. I dropped my fingers to the hollow of his neck, brushing over his collar before undoing a few buttons and plunging my hand inside his shirt. His muscles were flexing and hard under the soft fabric, and the feel of tickling wisps of hair and heat under my palm made me eager, warm, and wild…down under.
Too much. Not the plan. But, dear God, screw it.
I was glad I'd chosen the jersey dress, for it was silky and sleek against the leather seats, and I gracefully slid onto his lap, bending my knees, easily straddling him. The thin fabric of both our garments hindered nothing, absolutely nothing at all, and the press and push we gave each other made me bite my lip. Edward compressed his hands deep against my back, sliding me further, hitching the skirt of my dress around my waist.
"Do you want--are you sure?" I panted as his mouth quavered against mine. His answer was apparent as he grabbed my hips, pulling my lap into his--hard, hot, and twitching with desire underneath of me. I whimpered against his lips, getting further and further to throwing caution to the dashboard and begging him to do whatever he wanted. Slow, sweet grinding caused another burst of warmth inside me, and I grasped his shoulders for support as he bucked his hips upward, heightening and deepening the need between the both of us.
Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.
A sound that was almost embarrassingly loud came out of my mouth, but Edward was right there, awarding me a deep, rumbling, appreciative moan. My hands shook as I let my head drop to his chest, kissing and continuing to fumble with his buttons as he slid his hands under my dress, over my ribs and the lacy cups of my bra. His hand eagerly slid under the material, and when the pads of his fingers rolled over my breasts, I bit my lip in a lustful hiss.
"Edward," I gasped, gliding my fingertips under his waistband. His stomach was so warm, so firm, tightening and expanding with his keen breath. "Let me touch you."
He blinked, his eyes feverish, and he simply shifted, thrusting his hips into me again, and again, and again. Hot friction, panting breath, and chesty moans filled the car, consuming us in muggy sensuality.
"I--I want you," I begged, reaching to undo his pants, craving the feel his length against my slick skin. "Please, I need you."
His knuckles brushed mine, traveling underneath my dress, tucking his hands over my thighs. I impatiently pulled down his zipper, grinning at the sight of his boxers instantly tenting into my hands, and I stroked him lightly, making him groan. His fingertips were just sliding under the silky band of my underwear, into the dip of my warmth, when, suddenly, I felt it.
His goddamned phone was going off like a Bumble Ball.
"Shiiiit," Edward hissed, snatching his hands away, resting them on my back.
"Ignore it," I pleaded, but he was already digging in his pocket, pulling out the little buzzing contraption. "Edward, don't--"
"What?" Edward growled into the receiver.
I heard Emmett's voice, all crackly and jolly, come from the other end. "Now, I can only imagine what you two are doing in there, so just tell me straight--am I five-hundred dollars richer, or not? Because if I'm going to be late for brunch, it's not going to be waiting in this parking lot for your ass to finish getting some ass."
Edward sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes vigorously as I leaned back against the steering wheel, impatiently tapping my fingers against his legs. "Man, then go. No, you didn't win anything. We were just…kissing. That's allowed."
"Let me talk to Bella."
Edward let his hand fall from his temple and he stared at me. "You can talk to her when we get there. We're leaving now, okay?"
I realized I was holding my breath, and squinted my eyes at his mention of leaving.
"Well, if I don't see your headlights behind me, I totally win," Emmett said.
Edward snapped his cell closed and dropped his hands, leaning back against his seat. I quickly snatched the phone from him and tossed it on my seat, putting all interruptions aside, and bent forward to kiss him, eager to continue where we left off. When I noticed that he didn't reciprocate, his hands and lips practically static, I pulled back and stared at him.
"What's the matter?" I asked, feeling slightly desperate as I tangled my fingers in his, pressing my lips to his neck. "Come on, who cares what Emmett--"
He seized my hips, gave me a quick kiss, and before I knew it he was lifting me up and over toward my own seat. "Bella, we can't."
"Wha--what?!" I uttered, falling back against the leather seat. "Why?"
I watched as he fumbled to button his shirt, and I sighed in irritation. "Oh, my God, fuck this bet, Edward. I'll give you five-hundred dollars. I'll pay both of you to stop this idiocy."
"Bella, come on, this--this is hardly the place--it's not mature," Edward said, wincing slightly as he tucked his very erect, perky self back in, and zipped his pants.
"Mature?" I repeated, gaping at him. "You certainly didn't care a minute ago! And I didn't even start it."
"No, you just put on that… vanilla… stuff," he muttered, buckling his seatbelt. "No more teasing."
As ungodly childish as it was, I huffed, firmly clenching the sides of my seat, pouting. My hair was probably in shambles, and I was sweaty, overheated, trembling with desire, and soaked. And Edward chose that moment to start backing out of the parking space, so there wasn't even time to for me to run upstairs and change my underwear.
"I need to change," I blurted out. "Don't leave yet."
"What are you going to put on, now? Black leather?" he teased.
"No, I'm going to take a page out of your book and put on a chastity belt," I grumbled. "I need--you made--my underwear--I'm wet, okay?!"
Edward smirked, and made no move to stop the car. "Yeah, I'm aware of that."
He had felt me, after all, and could probably smell me, and he was fucking proud of himself. I knitted my eyebrows in annoyance and folded my arms across my chest.
"Come on, don't pout," Edward said, reaching over and patting my shoulder like I was a child. "I didn't want to stop, either. But we're so close. We can make it a few more hours."
"You are out of your mind," I replied, buckling my seatbelt and uncomfortably shifting my hips. My lower body was still pulsing and achy, craving to be satisfied. "And 'no more teasing?' What the hell do you think you just did? If you were in my underwear right now, you'd be pissed."
Of course, that made him laugh like a maniac, and I gnawed on my lower lip, feeling rejected, grumpy, and gross. Finally, I slid my hands under my dress, wriggled until I clasped the sides of my panties, pulled them off, bunched them up, and threw them onto the floor, kicking them into the corner.
I could feel Edward staring at me, so I narrowed my eyes, and, sure enough, he was gawking at me in shock and amusement. "Did you just--" he started.
"I was uncomfortable. Shut up."
I rolled down my window, then, and turned my attention to the cotton candy clouds, glorious palls of rose and amethyst-blue, and breathed in the cool, morning wind, calming myself. Edward fiddled with the radio, searching for good music, and I sighed, pacified with the airy, tranquil view, and the fact that there was nothing erotic--
"--don't want anybody else, when I think about you, I touch myself--"
I whirled around and smacked the radio panel, shutting the music off with a slap.
No more teasing, indeed.
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Big, huge, massive thank you to Demosthenes91 for beta'ing and being my Smut Consultant! LOL And, uh, this will have 2 more chapters, just for pacing's sake. I got wordy. Le sigh. Anyway, Happy 2-months of being 24, Jes! *snort* ILY. Thanks for being patient!
