EPOV, Ch 4, Exposure

AN: This is EPOV from "Exposure," Chapter 4, after he gets off the phone with Bella. Some of his secrets are revealed here. We hope you enjoy!

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I ended my phone call with Bella and sighed, letting my head fall onto the back of my recliner. Frustrated, I tossed my cell onto the table near my chair, beneath the lamp. The fact was that I never did fully confess my worries, or own the fact that I didn't know how much longer I could handle this…arrangement of sorts.

I should have come right out with it.

I thought Rose and I could handle this because we'd experienced so much together. I'd seen her naked many times before; we took European vacations together, after all, which included nude beaches, so it wasn't as though that part of this was an issue. I thought we could keep things casual – well, as casual as a three-person relationship could be, I suppose.

I never thought I'd develop real feelings for Bella.

But that first night, when she'd offered to pleasure Rose orally, I had been instantly uncomfortable, but when I tried to leave - or at the very least look away - she'd insisted that I stay. Later, as she slept with her hand on my chest, I realized I was already too invested in her, and that this whole three-way commitment was probably a bad idea, but I pushed through because I was certain I was being ridiculous. It was just some masculine territorial response that I would get over.

But I hadn't. And each week, it had become harder and harder to watch her with Rosalie. To hear her moan Rose's name and see her writhe beneath my best friend's hands.

When I talked to Bella on the phone as she soaked in a bath – a scene that made me catch my breath, if I'm honest - I thought of her harried response to my query: "Of course I do," she'd said.

When she replied that way, I decided to persevere. This was just new. It wasn't as though I'd had threesomes regularly before Bella entered my life. Never mind that I wondered if it could technically be called a threesome, considering Rose and I never touched one another.

I can do this, I decided, and then Bella and I had talked. We spoke about my philanthropic works, and the McIntyre Project, which I was incredibly excited about. The idea of giving lower income families a real shot at moving out of the worst sections of town gave me a sense of true joy. I learned about her family and that her brother was gay. It was definitely nice to know that she could relate to standing up for someone you loved when some jerk made asinine comments about them or their preferences.

Knowing Bella had been in the tub when I called…I couldn't lie: the imagery that played through my mind was intoxicating. I could see her. Taste her. Feel her skin, her hands, what it was like to be inside of her.

God, she felt so good…

When I'd asked her to think of me when she touched herself that night, the words had surprised even me. I wondered if I hadn't really been able to shove back my worries, if that was a subtle attempt to focus her attentions on me and me alone, and I felt quite prepared to do a little self-analysis.

But then…I remembered the way she'd responded.

I could her the water sloshing as she stood and stepped out of the tub, and knowing she was standing there naked was bad enough, but when she gasped, and her voice lowered as it always did when she was aroused, I had nearly begged her to let me come over, despite our "no singular dating" rule.

I'd only insisted on that rule because I had assumed it would keep things simpler between the three of us, but it hadn't stopped my feelings for her from growing and changing. Of course, I wondered now if perhaps I already had misgivings about her being with Rosalie and subconsciously couldn't bear the thought of the two of them enjoying each other alone…without me.

In the wake of our phone call, I felt anxious. I picked my cell phone back up and walked to my bedroom, taking a seat in the middle of my bed. I tossed the phone to my nightstand after making sure it was silenced. I had no appointments in the morning and wanted to try to sleep in at least until nine.

When I'd called Bella, I had already changed into my sleepwear – boxers and a t-shirt, given the warm weather Chicago happened to be experiencing, so I let myself fall back onto my bed, my head on the pillow.

Bella in the bath…what a sight to behold.

I could see her there, her hair tied up into a messy knot of sorts on the top of her head, bubbles coating the surface of the water and surrounding her chest and neck, the only visible skin on her body that of her face, throat, and forearms, where they lay along the edge of the tub. Her eyes would be closed, and her face turned slightly toward the ceiling.

Glorious.

As I continued to think of her, bare beneath the water, my right hand moved of its own accord, grazing my length, still confined to my boxers.

I closed my eyes and let my imagination go.

Suddenly, in that strange way that always happens in daydreams, I was standing in the doorway, and the bubbles had disappeared, thanks to some sort of magical time lapse. Bella stood, the water gliding down her subtle curves, and faced me. Her skin shimmered faintly with the iridescence of the bubbles, the rivulets of water drawing my eyes to her shapely legs.

Slowly, she stepped over the bathtub wall and onto the heather gray mat on her bathroom floor. She reached up with one hand and pulled the band holding her hair up away from her head, allowing her long, dark hair to cascade down her back and over her chest.

I took my boxers off, dropping them on the mattress to my right as I took myself in my hand with a firm grip. I was already hard, but my fantasy was nowhere near over. I knew that instinctively.

Bella moved toward me, a small smirk on her lips. I lifted my arms to her, wrapping her bare body in my embrace, and she hopped lithely. Easily, I caught her and held her to me with my hands beneath her thighs. Her legs were wrapped around me as I headed to her bedroom.

The sheets on her mattress were already turned down, and I placed her gently down on her back, leaning over her as I took her bottom lip between my teeth lightly.

My hand moved evenly, a slow rhythm that felt like heaven as I imagined the texture of Bella's soft skin against mine. Up and down it moved, and the sensitivity of my nerve endings seemed to have grown exponentially.

She kissed me back, hard, pulling me down so that her bare breasts were pressed into my chest. I groaned into her mouth as I felt her fingers wrap around me, gently teasing my head; it felt so good that my hips jerked involuntarily, and she giggled against my lips.

"I want you," she whispered into my ear. "Let me have you, Edward."

"Always," I replied, and let her guide me into her body, wet heat surrounding me as I gasped at the sensation.

Being inside Bella, fully wrapped in her warmth, her body, never ceased to amaze me. It was hot and exciting and delicious, and then there were the sounds she made.

Tiny grunts and moans, fervent whispers in my ear…sometimes I wondered if she was cognizant of the noises she made, but it really didn't matter: they turned me on.

My rhythm became erratic as I imagined being sheathed inside of Bella with no barrier between us, no distraction of another person in the room, and as I pumped my hand back and forth, I felt a familiar heat coursing through my body and my hips began to writhe against the satin of my sheets.

"Fuck," I mumbled, and then I came, hard and fast, my release thankfully pooling on my stomach instead of my sheets.

In the aftermath, I let myself relax, letting my nerves calm down before I rose to walk to the bathroom to clean myself up. Quickly, the substance on my stomach was cold, and I moved sluggishly to shower.

As I stood there, the hot water flowing over my skin, my mind was on Bella.

I hadn't wanted to admit to her that I didn't think I could handle sharing her with Rose – with anyone, really. This agreement was what had brought us together…how could I now tell her that it wasn't good enough for me? She could just as easily choose Rosalie – or choose to go on without either of us. She could call me a selfish bastard – and I was. I could lose her completely.

Sharing Bella was ridiculous, but if it was the only way I could have her, I supposed I had to take it.

That night, as I closed my eyes in the darkness of my room, I pictured Bella, her hands curved into her body and her lips parted as she brought herself to orgasm, whispering my name breathlessly. That vision appeared over and over again in my dreams.

The next morning, as I sipped my coffee, staring out at the Chicago skyline from my living room window, I knew I was falling in love with her.

This would pose a problem.

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