Notes: Massive thanks to Alice's White Rabbit for her amazing beta skills. Thank you all for your sweet reviews. They have been so supportive, and we are so glad you like Assward and Tartella's story so much.


~ Something More~

Bella changes out of her dress when she gets home and pulls her violin case from the closet. The familiar scent that rises from the case when she opens it makes her eyes sting. She runs her hands slowly over the instrument, the pads of her fingers skimming the polished wood as she remembers the feel of Edward's skin under her hand. She misses playing, but right now, she wishes it was Edward's body instead.

Bella picks up the violin, tucks it under her chin, and lifts the bow. She can't have Edward, but she'll play and pretend that it's an adequate substitute. Her fingers tremble slightly as she begins, but she closes her eyes, imagining she's playing for the green-eyed man who she'll never have. The song begins slowly, incrementally building to a frenzied crescendo before segueing into something sweet and mournful. The last note vibrates in the air as she lowers the instrument into the velvet-lined case, unaware of the tears wetting her cheeks.

~oOo~

In the following weeks, Bella attempts to put Edward from her mind as she focuses on her new client. Jane is the deputy mayor of the city, the first woman to hold the position, and a closet lesbian. It's risky for Jane to hire an escort but less risky than attempting to date. She's an eager client and appreciative of Bella's skill and discretion.

Bella goes three weeks before she picks up her violin again. She plays again a week later. The time between her sessions shortens until she's playing almost daily. It's been years since Bella played like this, but she finds herself unable to stop. She isn't sure if it's the connection to Edward or a re-awakened passion in making music, but it consumes her.

After one evening with Jane, a thought pops into Bella's head that she can't seem to shake.

Could she make a living as a violin instructor? Her injured hand may no longer be up to the rigors of playing at a concert level, but she's still very accomplished, and her body is holding up well to daily practicing. Bella's mind wanders as she rides home in a taxi, imagining giving lessons and quitting her job as an escort.

She isn't entirely sure that the desire has to do with Edward. It's not solely for him, that much she knows. He may have inspired her to embrace her musical talent again, and she can admit that she's considered the idea of showing up to his shop and telling him she's free to date. The thought thrills her.

There's also something deep down, though; a yearning for music that consumes her for the first time in eight long years. The desire to play is simply a part of who she is. It's what drives her to research the possibilities and make tentative plans.

~oOo~

The money Jane pays for Bella's services over the following months is more than enough for Bella to pay off the rest of her mortgage and the loan for the car she rarely uses. It's enough that she can quit, if she wants, and teach violin.

Bella dreams, she plays every evening, and she hopes.

Finally, the day comes when she takes a seat across from Emmett and speaks the words. "I want to quit."

Her boss doesn't seem surprised, and if he's disappointed by losing his best escort, he hides it well. Emmett asks about Bella's plans and sounds genuinely happy about her idea to take up the violin again. He knows the entire story of her injury and subsequent recovery and understands how desperately she's missed it.

As Bella says goodbye to her clients, she feels a bit wistful. She'll miss Jane's tender touch and being pinned between Riley and Garrett, soaking in the love they can't express for each other. She will miss being an escort, but it's time to move on. She's ready.

Bella promises to stay in touch with Emmett and means it. She can easily see them being friends. And then she walks out the door of his office into her new future. It's frightening when she realizes she has no guarantees of success, but it's exciting, too. Hard work has never stopped her from going after what she wants.

She's so busy over the next several months that's she's hardly aware of how quickly time is passing. Her list of students grows, and her confidence increases. She makes far less money than she did as an escort, but with prudent budgeting, it's enough.

Bella has little time to date, though she has the opportunity now. She misses sex; it feels strange to go without it after so many years of constant access. She still thinks of Edward. She thinks of him when she brings herself to orgasm and is surprised to realize that her most frequent fantasy is of sliding inside him, fucking him until he cries out in ecstasy.

But she still doesn't go to him. Bella thinks about it sometimes, wondering why she's so hesitant. She can admit that part of it is fear of rejection, or that he might be with someone else. Maybe there's another woman fulfilling his deepest fantasy. A woman who loves him. A woman he doesn't have to pay.

~ oOo ~

Edward thinks of Isabella often in those months after the party. He still dreams of her and imagines all the things he could have said and done differently before he let her walk away. He thinks of her when he takes himself in hand and when he slides the dildo inside himself; her name is on his tongue when he comes, though he bites his lip to keep himself from speaking.

He attends several more of Emmett's parties, hoping to see Isabella. She never shows. He wants to demand that Emmett give him Isabella's number. He imagines calling her, asking that she quit her job. Those thoughts aren't fair, though, and they are not right. Isabella may have taken the job as an escort to pay the bills, but Edward has a feeling that she loves it. And he cannot ask a woman he hardly knows to find a new career simply because he can't handle her current one.

When a striking, dark-haired woman approaches him in a coffee shop, Edward smiles. She's tall and slim with warm hazel eyes and a serene smile. Edward buys her an espresso and shares his biscotti, enjoying her lilting voice and obvious intelligence as they begin to get to know one another.

"I'm Edward," he tells her, belatedly extending a hand over the café table and grinning when she grips his fingers in hers.

"I'm Angela," she replies. She nibbles her lip for a moment before speaking again. "I'd love to take you out for dinner."

"I'd like that." Edward smiles again at the flush of pleasure that colors her cheeks.

Angela is a trauma surgeon. The long hours she works make her free times sporadic, which suits Edward well. He enjoys the time they spend together, but he's leery of anything becoming too serious. Angela is also surprisingly kinky in bed. She enjoys trying new things and is an enthusiastic, generous lover. Sometimes, she reminds Edward of Isabella, both in looks and demeanor. Angela's eyes are free of the shadows of pain that Edward glimpsed in Isabella's, though, and her past isn't colored with loss and disappointment.

After a few weeks, Edward feels brave enough to broach the subject of pegging with Angela. Though it's something she's never done, she's willing to try. Both she and Edward enjoy the experience. Edward relishes the feeling of Angela's body pressed against his back, the long, slow slide of the dildo in his ass, her low murmur of encouragement in his ear. It all feels so good. Yet Edward can't help but compare the experience with Angela to his night with Isabella. It's not the sex that is lacking, but the connection he felt with the escort that he craves.

For everything she does right, Angela is found wanting.

~ oOo ~

In his spare time, Edward begins to build a violin with Isabella in mind; the project quickly becomes an obsession. He finds himself staying late in his shop, painstakingly crafting the instrument after hours. By the time he's halfway finished, he suspects he'll never see Isabella again, but he can't bring himself to stop. He spends hours lovingly sanding every millimeter and meticulously applying the hand-rubbed finish, imagining that his hands are touching Isabella's skin.

He feels both relief and disappointment when he finishes the piece. He traces the instrument with his fingers, seeing Isabella's sinuous curves in its shape, the mahogany and walnut highlights of her hair reflected in the wood's tones. Edward knows he will never sell the violin, though he would give it to Isabella, if she wanted it. If he had a chance to. Instead, it will remain in his possession as a testament to his skill and his passion. He thinks that it is the most beautiful instrument he has ever made.

Edward yearns to hear Isabella draw the bow across its strings. He fits the instrument under his own chin instead, intent upon playing; he must, to test the sound quality. The violin's sound rivals its looks in beauty, the notes warm and rich and clear. The music makes something in Edward's chest ache, though, and he sets it aside when he's done.

~ oOo ~

Edward and Angela are dining with Emmett and Rosalie when the topic of another party is raised. Edward feels guilty for being disappointed that he'll have to bring Angela along but knows that he is trapped; not asking her to join him is out of the question.

As he dresses for the party later that week, he smoothes down his shirt and straightens his cuffs with nervous fingers. He can't shake the feeling that he might see Isabella tonight at the party, and he dreads the idea of her seeing him with Angela.

Edward's apprehension is rewarded when Isabella appears twenty minutes after he and Angela arrive. His heart pounds when he sees the escort, his eyes unable to leave her body. Isabella's mouth forms a small 'o' of surprise when she sees Edward, and he feels his face color at her expression. Her eyes move intently over him, drinking in his appearance as if she has been thirsting for him. Edward can barely tear his gaze from her as Emmett and Rosalie make the introductions, and he savors the syllables of her shortened name on his tongue. "Bella," Edward he says to himself, liking the way the name feels on his tongue.

Heat creeps up Edward's neck when he realizes that he has been pegged by the women standing on either side of him. His cock twitches inside his pants, growing hard at the thought. He shifts his weight and jams one hand in his pocket, the other clutching his glass of wine. He realizes once more how much Angela resembles the escort he spent one night with, but his eyes linger on Bella for twice as long.

He tries to greet Bella as he would a casual acquaintance but falters badly. He is too eager to touch her outstretched hand, and his grasp lingers for a moment too long.

Bella's fingers tremble when they reach for Edward, and she notices the way her hand fits perfectly inside his warm grip. She tries to keep her face empty of expression, but she's afraid her eyes give her away every time she glances at the woman at Edward's side.

Angela. Jealousy tastes like ashes in Bella's mouth, unfamiliar and unwanted.

For her part, Angela is oblivious, chatting warmly with the group about mundane things, unaware of the tension between the man she accompanied to the party and the woman he hired to fuck him.

Emmett, however, is very aware. He can't stop glancing between his friend and his former employee, noticing Edward's discomfort and Bella's irritation. Unfortunately, when another guest calls out to him and Rosalie, they're forced to leave the awkward trio.

Angela fills in the bulk of the conversation, while Edward and Bella stand by, stiff and awkward.

Edward shifts subtly closer to Bella, imagining he can feel the heat of her body through his thin dress shirt.

Bella wonders what Edward would say if she told him she's switched careers and is a violin instructor now.

The words seem lodged at the back of Bella's throat, and instead, she nods politely and sips her wine. Edward shifts away from her when Angela takes his arm, smiling as she tells them stories about the hospital where she works. It's only when a phone rings that the strange, stilted conversation halts. Angela digs through her purse, excusing herself to answer it.

Edward turns his eyes toward Bella when they are alone. Her dress leaves her collarbone bare, and he imagines dragging his tongue slowly over it, tasting her skin.

"You look good," he says, his voice gruff.

Bella swallows hard, her eyes raking over Edward's body, wondering how it would feel to be pinned beneath him as he fucks her.

"You, too." Bella's voice is breathy and Edward jams his hand in his pocket again.

Neither of them knows what else to say. Angela returns, rushed and apologetic as she explains she's been called in for emergency surgery. She and Edward tell each other goodbye while Bella escapes, fleeing to the restroom without a word.

Edward is surprised to find Bella gone when he turns back. He scans the crowd, frowning when she's nowhere to be found. He wanders through the party, trying to appear casual as he searches for her. He expects to find her on the balcony and is stumped when she isn't there. Edward realizes as he wanders that he is unsure of what he'll say if he finds Bella and pauses in the hallway to gather his wits.

Bella stands in the bathroom, her arms braced on the countertop, wondering why her body is trembling. She can't understand why it matters so much to her that Edward is here with someone else. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut against the image of Angela fucking Edward, cursing softly at the thought of their long limbs tangling together.

In the hallway, Edward leans against the wall, debating whether he should leave or not, when he realizes that Bella may have slipped out of the party without his noticing. As he pushes himself off the wall to go, the bathroom door swings open, and Edward and Bella find themselves standing face to face.

It is impossible to tell who moves first. Edward's hands clamp down on Bella's hips, and Bella's hands grip Edward's shirtfront as they push and pull one another into the bathroom. Edward kicks the door shut while Bella reaches with her free hand for the lock, their motions sending them crashing together and back into the door.

Their kiss is fire and heat, their need blazing out of control and leaving them gasping and panting.

"What are we doing?" Edward gasps as Bella's teeth graze his Adam's apple.

"I don't know," Bella replies breathlessly when Edward leans in to run his lips along her cheek. "This is a bad idea."

Edward grips her hips more tightly for a moment before running them over her ass, drawing Bella flush against his already aching erection. They rock together, their lips and tongues moving in a messy, eager kiss. This is the passion of their night together, magnified by the weeks of longing. This is the pent-up frustration borne of other lovers who didn't quite satisfy. This is reunion and desperation.

Edward's hands are rough on Bella's body. Bella tugs at Edward's hair until he hisses at the pain. It's not enough.

Without thought, Bella drops to her knees, her hands skimming over Edward's strong thighs. She can hear his strained breaths, and her heart hammers in her chest. She can't believe how much she wants this. She can already feel the way his cock will lay heavy on her tongue. She wants Edward inside her, in any way she can have him.

Hastily, she unfastens Edward's pants, plunging her hands under his boxers and pulling his clothes down to pool on the floor around his ankles. Edward's hand trembles as he cups her cheek, and Bella looks up at him with eyes so dark he gets lost in them.

The look of pure, naked want on Bella's face makes him ache.

Edward knows there's some reason he shouldn't do this. That he can't do this, but everything feels dim and far away. Bella's mouth is on him before he can think, and it's so wet and hot, he feels his knees go weak.

Bella moans around him, taking him in deep without any build up. Edward lets out a strangled gasp, wondering hazily if any woman has ever fit that much of his cock in her mouth before tonight. The suction and pressure moving over him make his eyes roll and his head thump back against the door. Edward lets out a hiss when Bella's nails drag down the muscles of his thighs, leaving red marks in their wake.

"Isabella," he gasps, his slip over her name forgotten when the tip of her tongue flicks at the underside of his cock, wringing another strangled groan from him.

Bella's warm hands move up his thighs to gently tug and roll his balls. Edward feels the tip of her finger brush between his ass cheeks, and the needy whine that leaves his mouth surprises them both. Bella pulls back, letting his cock slip wetly from her mouth. Edward looks down, stupefied by the image in front of him as Bella sits back.

The vision of this woman kneeling in front of him, her fingers sliding her skirt up her thighs and moving her panties aside sears itself onto Edward's brain. All rational thoughts flee when Bella dips her fingers inside her own body and then holds them out toward him, glistening and wet.

Edward knows what she intends to do, but his heart still slams in his chest when the back of Bella's wrist bumps against his thigh. She moves her hand between his legs and one of those wet fingers slips between his cheeks, teasing his entrance. He groans.

God, he needs this. Needs her.

"Wider," Bella coaxes.

Edward gulps, shifting his weight, and is rewarded when her finger slides inside of him, just as she takes his cock in her mouth again. "Fuck," he pants. "Bella …"

Bella doesn't tease him or allow him any time to adjust. She sets a perfect rhythm, hard and fast, sucking with her mouth and fucking with her finger. Edward feels a curl of pleasure in his belly.

"Fuck, I can't …"

Bella stares up at him, once again eagerly taking in the sight of Edward's pleasure. She could become addicted to his pants and moans, his parted lips, his expression of need. She pulls her finger out, only to add the second. Bella wonders if he'll go down on her next, and she hums around his cock as she imagines it.

Edward's hands land on her head, digging into her hair more tightly than he realizes when she sucks harder. He forces his eyes to remain open and locked on the woman kneeling before him. Bella's red lips are stretched around his cock, her cheeks hollowed and her eyes watering with exertion. Edward gasps when she moans around him again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his body. She looks unspeakably wanton. She looks glorious.

"Need …" Edward pants, "oh, God, I need to come."

Bella curls her fingers inside him, seeking out his prostate, and Edward's startled gasp tells her when she's found it. He comes with a force that makes his body curl over hers and puts his lips so close to her head she can hear his gasping breaths. "Oh, fuck."

Her lips continue to slide over him until, at last, Edward's hands loosen in her hair and he straightens. He cups Bella's jaw, his thumb grazing her cheek, gently coaxing her to relax her jaw.

Bella's eyes lock on Edward's as his cock slides out of her mouth, the salty sweetness of his release still clinging to the tip as it drags over her lips; he shudders when she licks it off them. She opens her mouth to speak, to ask Edward what he wants to do next, when a look of horror crosses his face. He jerks away, his expression one of mingled regret and shock.

"I'm sorry," he gasps. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have …" Edward yanks at his pants, pulling them up hastily over his hips. Bella's lips are still wet as he fumbles for the zipper on his pants.

Edward is gone before she fully realizes what's happening, the bathroom door swinging shut behind him as she remains kneeling on the soft white rug for a moment. Bella slumps forward, Edward's abrupt departure leaving her reeling. She hates that her first sexual encounter with a man since she quit the escort business has made her feel more like a whore than her job ever did. She hates feeling hurt.

She washes her hands and pulls herself together, slipping out of the bathroom feeling numb. She avoids both Emmett and Rosalie, and Edward is long gone by the time she leaves the building and calls for a cab.

Edward goes home to his place above his workshop, falling heavily onto his bed and burying his head in his hands. He wonders how on earth he can break things off with the woman he's been dating, how to tell Angela that he cheated on her just moments after she left the party.

He feels ill.

He's never hated himself so much.

~oOo~

Several days later, Edward breaks the news to Angela. It's the first time they've had the chance to meet in person since the party, and she's stunned and clearly upset. Edward's apologies sound weak even to his ears, and he winces at the expression of hurt in Angela's eyes. He hates that the memory of Bella's horrified expression bothers him more, even as he leaves Angela's place for the last time.

Emmett has been pestering him to get together; he knows that something is wrong, that something happened during the party to cause Edward to leave. The violin maker has no idea how to explain what happened that night. Where can he begin?

Finally, unable to fob his friend off any longer, Edward agrees to meet Emmett for drinks. Inside one of their favorite bars, Edward can't hide anything from Emmett. The truth pours out of him, including the breakup with Angela. He hopes that his confession won't cause trouble for Bella, but Emmett seems unconcerned about that.

"Yeah, what you did to Angela was shitty," Emmett agrees. "I guess you just have to decide if Bella's worth it?"

Edward looks up at the dark-haired man, his voice cracking as he verbalizes the truth. "Worth it? I don't know. I don't even know her."

Emmett nods. He's a quiet man but has a tendency to drop pearls of wisdom into conversation. His friends know that he will always listen. "Do you want to?"

"Of course I do." Edward huffs in frustration. "I can't stop thinking about her."

They fall silent for a few minutes as they sip their drinks until Edward feels ready to continue. "I … I just don't understand it. I've never felt something like that with someone I just met. How is it we fit so well when we're practically strangers?"

Emmett smiles enigmatically. "You think I would have suggested you hire her if I didn't think you'd be a good fit? Not to mention inviting you both to my parties."

Edward frowns at his friend, puzzled. "Wait, you mean you've been trying to get us together? But what about her job?"

Emmett shrugs and sips his beer. "That job, Edward—it's just what Bella does, not who she is."

Edward contemplates his friend's words and what he can do to repair the damage between him and the small, dark-haired woman he finds so intriguing.

He doesn't like who he was that night or how he acted. He doesn't like that he cheated on a girlfriend, something that goes against everything he has ever promised to himself. He doesn't like that he can't stop thinking about his own family and comparing himself to his father.

Edward's stomach twists when he remembers the bewilderment on Bella's face as she knelt on the bathroom floor and watched him go. He feels ill. He treated her callously. He used her. He treated her like a sex worker on a night when no payment needed to change hands.

The violin maker paces and frets. He broods as he sketches new designs for violins, almost all of them inspired in some way by the woman called Bella. His hands smooth over blocks of wood as he composes ways to apologize to her. But the words never fit together right, and he flounders.


Notes: How did you feel about what happened between them at the party? We're eager to know what you think of the chapter, and how you think things might go between them.