Author's note:
I got a few reviews (so thanks!) and it motivated me to write more so I and decided to update sooner. This chapter is longer, so, enjoy!
Previously:
"Please, come with me. My house it just over there", she pointed toward its general direction. "We can get you dried off and warmed up"
He slowly nodded his head in consent and together, they made their way toward the old oak front door, all the while, rain pelted their faces and wind stabbed away at their bare skin.
Chapter Two
Bella roughly tugged off her trainers and pushed her drenched hair away from her face with her fingers. Now that her house had blanketed them in light, she intended to get a better look at her mysterious guest. After straightening up though, she disappointingly found she was only looking upon the man's back.
A lovely back, but only a back nonetheless, and she desperately wanted to see his face instead, where his glorious eyes sat in their sockets.
She waited for a several moments before realising that he probably wasn't going to turn around anytime soon. Bella found herself thinking it was quite rude of him. Here she was, offering her hospitality and there he was, blatantly choosing not to acknowledge her. And for some reason, she very much wanted him to. In an attempt to gain his attention she asked another question.
"Would you like to take a seat?" she asked whilst gesturing with her arm toward her couch before realising he still wasn't facing her and that the action was pointless. "You could attempt to warm up a little why I go and root out some dry clothes for you?"
Still, no reaction.
The man was obviously one of two things. Partially deaf or totally oblivious. She seriously doubted the first.
So, totally oblivious it was then.
Oblivious to his surroundings, oblivious to her, possibly even to fact that she was, just this second, speaking to him it seemed.
Although she couldn't fully understand why he might be reacting this way, she could guess. She assumed whatever had caused such sadness and despair to fill his eyes, was now causing him to go into shock, and thus bringing on his strange stupor. The cold and the rain could not have helped either she found herself thinking and for the second time that night, she worried for his health.
She decided it didn't matter about her selfish need to see his eyes once more, the only thing she wanted to do right now was to take care of him, the thing she had felt the need to do in the first place.
Her guest was still not responding, his back still to her. Bella let out a sigh.
She began to make her way toward her crooked staircase, to get some clothes for them both, but before she reached the first stair, she caught the hint of a unique smell.
Upon its fragrance wafting around her, her eyes instinctively fluttered closed in pure pleasure. There was no way to describe it, no way that is that would possibly give it the justice it deserved. It was musky, but somehow fresh and spicy, slightly salty too, from the rain she presumed. The best thing she had ever smelt she knew automatically. Yes, simply the best. Like forever looking into his eyes, she knew she could never get tired of smelling all that was him.
Overwhelmed by the strange combination of things that she was feeling, Bella dashed up the set of thirteen stairs, in the hope that with the sent cleared from around her, she could finally begin to function properly again.
She dug around at the back of her wardrobe for a while, eventually finding some man's clothes inside a box in the corner. Just an old jumper and pyjama bottoms, but it would do. She hastily changed into her own jumper and bottoms before scrubbing at her scalp with a towel in an attempt to dry off her hair which had been uncomfortably dripping down her back. Just before heading back downstairs, she saw a pair of thick socks on top of the clean washing basket. She snatched them up just in case; goodness knows if his feet were anywhere near as cold as hers, he would need them.
When she reached the bottom stair, she noticed he was no longer stood up but slouched over in his position on the couch, his head in his hands. Her heart clenched and a wave of sadness crashed over her, she felt for him.
As she walked over she began to take in other details of his appearance. His thick, auburn hair was wavy and stuck out in every direction, his legs were long and lean, and his shoulders broad. One of her favourite things about him though, other than his eyes, was his hands. Bella always loved man's hands and his were a pair to be proud of. Large palms and long fingers, truly beautiful. The kind that would look at home splayed across a length of piano keys.
Due to her eyes trained so intently on his body, Bella failed to realise that her foot was, for the millionth time it seemed, about to come in contact with her coffee table. She was not surprised however when her big toe painfully jabbed into the wood, it happened several times daily. She loved the old, hand-carved coffee table too much to get rid of it though, even if it was a pain in the arse, constantly getting in the way of her feet.
The man must have caught her movement from the corner of his eye because just as she raised her head after briefly inspecting her toe, he raised his.
Oh my.
What a handsome man.
He had beautifully chiselled cheekbones and a jaw that looked as if it had been painstakingly carved from stone. A delightfully straight nose that was well, so striking. A gloriously pale complexion that was home to two remarkably plump, dark red lips. How she yearned to suck on those lips with her own.
Bella was rendered speechless, and for someone of her profession, that was a tricky thing to be. However, she now found herself unable even to blink, or breathe, never mind speak, for she had reached his eyes.
They continued to rage with sadness and pain but now had flickers of curiosity buried deep within them. Her heart flipped flopped about at the thought that he was feeling just that one emotion for her, curiosity. That he deeply wished to get to know her as much as she did him.
Oh how she hoped it was true.
But it was not.
It couldn't be.
He was sad and desperate. Not lonely and lust filled as she was. There would be no reason for him to want to know her, to him; she was just a good Samaritan. She convinced herself he still hadn't even registered she was there, due to the obvious shock he was feeling just minutes before. No, he wasn't curious about her, but rather about why she hadn't yet passed him the dry clothes folded in her hands.
So she did.
She reached over and placed the clothes on the couch beside him. She observed that he didn't follow their journey across the room with his eyes but instead, watched her actions with, fascination? The sight was quite unnerving so she spoke, to eliminate the tension in the room. "Its only a jumper and pyjama pants but I'm sure if we dry your hair and make you a hot water bottle you'll soon warm up. Do you need anything else?"
She hoped her attempt at being a good hostess would please him somewhat or at least gain some sort of reaction from him, but still, he just continued to stare at her. It a way though, she was pleased. She liked that he wanted to look at her, lord knows, she did him.
Bella began to blush, a common occurrence. Most of the time it was quite unexpected, she often didn't know the trigger. She didn't have time to waste thinking about it now though, because she was now growing more red by the second and as her colour grew, so did her embarrassment.
She had to hide it.
She turned to go toward the kitchen, still red as a beetroot, muttering as she went, "I'm going to make some tea. I suppose you can get changed and I'll be back in just a minute?" Her last words came out as more of a question but she didn't wait around for him to answer it, she assumed he wouldn't, as he had not any of her others.
As the kettle boiled, she wandered about the gorgeous, now probably naked, man in her living room. What had he been through? Where had he come from? Again, she sighed. What a strange situation to be in.
Bella poured two cups of hot tea and added a little milk to each. She used the remainder of the boiled water to make a hot water bottle and plated up some biscuits. They were her favourite kind, home-made and chocolate chip. She loved to bake. It was unusual that somebody would visit her so she decided she would take full advantage of the opportunity and offer the man some. Usually, more were baked than were eaten anyway.
When she got back to the living room, arms full, she found the man still sat, just as she had left him. Expression and clothing, unchanged. His eyes continued to stare at her, curiosity and fascination still present in both.
She placed the cups of tea, the hot water bottle and the biscuits on the table and sat on the couch opposite the man. Bella realised that her sad-faced guest was still shaking and that there were circles under his eyes, indicating he was terribly tired. Perhaps the reason he couldn't find it in himself to change? He needed to change. If he couldn't do it himself, then she would.
"Can I help you with getting changed?"
She waited.
And then, with slightly droopy eyes, he slowly nodded his head, for the second time that night, in consent. Finally, a reaction!
She stepped around the table and perched herself on the couch next to him. She removed the wet blanket which was still draped round his shoulders and chucked it on the floor, now useless.
He continued to watch her.
Firstly, she reached down and took off his muddy shoes, making quick work of his soggy laces. His socks were equally soaked so those were removed also. She noted that he had delightful feet. Large and masculine with perfectly shaped toes. She liked the small mole on his right big toe.
Bella leaned in to him as he inclined his body toward her. She began to unbutton the shirt buttons one by one, starting form the bottom. His scent was most potent there, next to his chest. She inhaled deeply, loving the light-headed feeling she got when she did. When she reached his top button she noticed his head was bowed, due to how tired and weak he must feel she presumed. She hated that he felt this way, nobody as beautiful as him should have to.
She dropped her gaze from his thick mop of hair, back to the task in hand and began to gently push his wet shirt off his shoulders. Her eyes involuntarily widened. His chest was as lovely as the rest of him. Hard but soft looking, angular but smooth and oh so pale and flawless. She discretely caressed as much of his cold flesh as she possibly could while she yanked off the rest of his shirt. Her warm hands must have been pleasant to the touch as he made a soft, contented noise from the back of his throat.
Bella felt goose bumps appear on her arms and legs at the sound of it.
Suddenly realising she next had to take off this man's pants, her face flushed once more.
"Can you stand?" she asked a little breathlessly, her voice taking on a lustful tone. She hoped he didn't notice, the poor thing only wanted her help. She couldn't believe she was acting this way, she didn't even know the man.
Another nod of his head.
He wobbled to his feet, gripping Bella's left shoulder quite tightly as he did so. It didn't hurt her though; she sensed that he never intentionally would. Bella could observe from this angle what such a great height he reached, being nearly a foot taller. Nevertheless, he placed one had on each shoulder, head still bowed in fatigue.
Bella worried that the act of taking of his clothes wasn't going fast enough. She could feel cool air emanating from him. He needed to warm up. She quickly unbuckled his black belt, trying, but failing miserably to stop the fact that she was breathing at an abnormally fast rate. She really couldn't help it though; she hadn't undressed a man in over three years and she certainly didn't expect the next time to be under such odd circumstances and with such a breath-taking creature as he.
Next, she roughly pulled down his pants, grazing his thighs accidently, though not regrettably as she did so. Again with the arousing noises he made. She breathed deeper.
The second his feet were pulled free of his pants he fell back down to the couch once more. It was an obvious effort for him to even stand for too long. He leaned his head back and sighed, eyes closed. Bella stood transfixed as she watched the veins in his neck pulse with the action. She was suddenly very aware that he was dressed in his boxers alone.
A bead of sweat formed on her clammy forehead.
Hurriedly, she brushed it away and reached for the fresh jumper, having to lean over his toned legs in order to do so. She reached behind his neck gently so as not to startle him and pulled his head forward so she could pull the jumper over his head. When she had, his eyes shot open and stared intently into her own. She could read from his eyes that he was silently thanking her. She nodded slightly in acknowledgement and proceeded to pull the jumper down his chest, pushing his muscular arms through the sleeves, him helping as much as he could manage.
He stood again as she tugged up the soft pyjama pants she'd gotten for him. Eventually, he sat on the sofa, fully clothed, thick socks and all, with a bit of colour starting to make its way back into his cheeks. She gingerly passed him the hot water bottle she had made for him and turned to get a dry blanket from the airing cupboard.
Just as she did, she felt his large palmed, long fingered hand clasp around her wrist. She realised happily that it was beginning to get warm. She spun around to face him; again his emerald eyes bore into her own dark brown ones. Then, he spoke.
"Thank you" he muttered sincerely, his voice cracking at one point. She rejoiced at the sound she had so desperately wanted to hear ever since he stepped over her threshold. He had a lovely, deep and harmonious voice, smooth and elegant. It caused an involuntary smile to grace Bella's face and she muttered back a, "Your very welcome" before turning again to retrieve the blanket.
When she returned, she tucked the blanket around him securely. She observed that there were little drops of water slowly dripping down his neck. Humph. Where had those come from?
Oh, his hair. It was still wet.
"Would you like me to dry your hair for you?" she asked hopefully. She'd love to not only make him more comfortable, but also to perhaps take advantage of having a reason to run her fingers through his messy mop.
"Please, if you don't mind" he replied. He eyes had a slightly sheepish look about them as though he were ashamed he didn't have the physical strength to dry off his hair himself, though sadness and pain were still the most dominant feelings within them.
"Not at all"
Bella climbed onto the couch and sat on the back behind the man's head, towel in hand, ready to scrub his hair. She couldn't help but feel happy that he had gotten to a point where he felt comfortable enough to talk with her. It was either that, or he had somehow been knocked out of his previous oblivious state.
Whatever had changed, she liked it.
Maybe now she could help him talk through his problems, be a shoulder to cry on. She'd love to be shoulder. Truthfully, she'd be anything he wanted, whether it was a body part or a source of advice.
She began to slowly rub the towel through his silky locks, loving that he moved toward her touch. She leaned down to wipe his neck of the excess water droplets still there. When she was sure his hair was pretty much dry, she decided she'd lightly massage his head, in an attempt to relax him somewhat. Bella ran her fingers through his hair, like she had wished, until she reached the area just above his temples. She applied a light pressure and began to gently move her fingers back and forth across his scalp.
Then he moaned. An actual audible moan escaped his plump lips. It was quiet and rather feeble, but there nonetheless. Bella suppressed her own moan. Goodness, he was so sexy.
Her fingers applied more pressure in the hope that she would get a repeat performance.
No such luck.
Instead, he sighed again. A long, deep sigh. Well at least she could make him do that.
A question suddenly burned on her tongue, the kind you usually ask in the first few seconds of meeting somebody. She asked it.
"What's your name?" Again, the question came out a little breathlessly, her cheeks reddened.
He didn't speak for a few seconds. Bella worried she had asked a question he didn't want to answer. Then,
"It's Edward."
Edward. A name of old origins. A name that suited him perfectly. Something about his angular features and graceful mannerisms reminded her of a gentleman, straight from the turn of the century. She smiled and climbed down from her seat on the sofa. She faced him and stuck out her hand.
"Hello Edward, I'm Bella" she said.
Hey guys,
Do you feel the sexual tension building?
Wondering what the hell is up with Edward?
PLEASE REVIEW
Cammy x
