Disclaimer: This is rated M for a reason. If you aren't old enough to vote, you aren't old enough to read this story. I still own the same first name, just spelled differently. I don't own the good stuff that's made her famous. But, I do own a Twilight DVD that is signed by Catherine Hardwicke and Peter Facinelli.
A/N#1: Before we begin, there is a certain moniker used below, which was coined by a fabulous goddess in the fandom to whom I will pay proper homage to at the end. She gave me the blessing to use the term, which resulted in a massive bout of hyperventilation.
Chapter 3 – Pause for the Cause
BPOV
Hot. Sweat. Heavy breathing. Hands. Fingers. Lips. Tongues. Shivers. Tingly explosions. Edward. Mmmmm. Best dream ever.
I rolled over to turn off my alarm clock, slightly annoyed that I had been pulled from such an amazing nighttime fantasy. I was soaked in perspiration and thought it strange that this particular dream seemed so much more vivid than the others. And then it hit me. It wasn't a pipe dream that my overactive brain and undersexed body had concocted. It was real and it actually happened. Well color me happy, there's a sofa in here for two. Okay, more like a bench, but whatevs…
Of course, my brain was also an overanalyzing pain in the ass. Lying in the comfort of my bed for awhile, I found myself giving in to the seeds of apprehension which had started to sprout last night. After I got off the phone with Edward, the realization that none of this made any sense whatsofuckingever rained down on me like a bucket of cold ice water.
In the sauna and in the moment, I had let go of all my inhibitions and gave in to what my body wanted. It felt liberating and amazing. And when Edward told me he was open to all possibilities with me, the post-coital euphoria had me believing in fairy tale endings. Especially when I called to tell him I was home. He sounded so concerned and maybe a little … worried? I found this to be both surprising and adorable.
But once he realized that I was alright, he turned on that voice that made me want to go commando and fall spread-eagle on cue. The way he spoke, the audible sex in his voice was like a damn bell, which made me no better than Pavlov's driveling bitch. Getting all worked up. Coming hither in ten minutes. Ding-motherfucking-dong.
Once we worked out the details on "The Great Carlisle Caper of 2009", we talked about the impending weekend and Edward did as promised, asking me out on a formal date. Deciding a nice dinner Friday night was a good place to start, Edward told me he knew the perfect place. Since my scrubs would definitely not be an appropriate wardrobe choice, I made a mental note to call Rosalie and Angela for backup.
It was when Edward starting talking about holding me captive for the whole weekend and the institution of "naked Sundays" that I started to worry a little. Not that I wasn't excited as hell to be his prisoner with an entire day devoted to birthday suit attire only; seriously, bring on the handcuffs and check all clothes at the door. I just didn't know if I was ready for that yet.
There were so many things about Edward and his intentions, subconscious or not, that I wasn't sure of. I mean, I knew that we had some fierce carnal tendencies toward one another and had no doubt he could play my body like a finely tuned Stradivarius. What concerned me was the lack of knowledge as to whether there were real emotions to build on, not just hormones. Being more specific, not knowing if there were real emotions and not just hormones on his end.
I on the other hand would be a complete moron not to realize that I had already developed feelings for him. Spending the better part of the last three months fantasizing about him, plus subjecting myself (and my quads) to exhausting torture just to see him, only to realize that not only was he beautiful, but seemed to be a genuinely good person. That happened to possess orgasm inducing tactile members. Heaven only knows what bliss his other appendages could bring to fruition…
What I could not seem to wrap my head around was why on earth he would want to explore any sort of possibility with me in the first place. I simply did not fit the mold of the type of woman one would expect to see on Edward's arm. A trophy girl as it were. The prototypical perfectly-sculpted-not-a-hair-out-of-place-flawlessly-skinned-enchantress which relegated those with XY chromosomes to puddles of goo. The proverbial Barbie to his Ken I was not.
I had absolutely no problem with my own self image at all - I knew I was considered attractive by the opposite sex - but I also knew when certain members of the opposite sex were out of my league. This is why I had never bothered with anything more than a surreptitious glance with men of Edward's caliber. Maybe I scared the hell out of them, who knew? I mean, my IQ was higher than a turnip and I could form complete sentences. Coupled with my extremely low bullshit tolerance, there just wasn't anything about me that these stud puppets ever found appealing.
If nothing else, I was a realist. And although I wasn't an MIT virtuoso or some shit, in the equation of Edward and me, we did not add up. I didn't have to belong to Mensa to figure that out.
My real concern was that despite his best intentions at developing something substantial with me, he would lose interest once we had actual sex. I wasn't stupid and while I was born at night, it wasn't last night. I was all too aware that the Edwards of the world were used to getting nookie pretty much from whomever and whenever they wanted. Perhaps he was confusing whatever it was he thought he wanted from a dating standpoint with the thrill of the conquest. And once he'd planted his flag, he'd move on to other territory.
About one thing I was certain: I was absolutely not up for anything of a nail-and-bail variety. That was not me at all. I took sex very seriously, and unless I genuinely thought there was a possibility of a bona fide, monogamously exclusive relationship, I did not give up the goods. Renee always said, "Who wants to buy a cow that gives milk for free?" I'm pretty sure my mother meant calling me a heifer in the nicest possible way, really. Which is exactly why I could still count the number of my sexual partners on two hands.
I decided that at lunch, after we had our fun with Dr. Cullen, I would tell Edward that before any kind of deal was sealed, I wanted to make an effort to establish an honest emotional connection, one that flowed both ways. I figured either Edward would get tired of waiting me out, or he would prove that he meant what he said to me in the sauna. Not that I planned on making him wait a long time. Hell, I wasn't sure how long I would be able to wait.
One thing was for sure. If Edward balked at not rushing into sex, then he wasn't the man I thought he was. Sex being a deal breaker as to whether we kept seeing each other was an ender for me anyway. At least with that knowledge, I could save face and not compromise who I was. The fact was that jumping the gun, as far as sex was concerned, added more tension to the situation if things ended abruptly and badly. I categorically had no interest at all engaging in hump and dump affairs with my boss' son.
Throwing the covers back, I got my overly analytical, slightly-paranoid and completely smitten self up out of bed to begin my morning routine. After I put water on to boil in the teakettle for my cup of sugar and cream with a splash of coffee, I headed to the shower to get myself ready. I racked my brain as to which pair of scrubs were the least silly, but really when you work with kids all day, pretty much anything of the Disney/Nickelodeon variety is all you've got in the bag. I figured that Sponge Bob worked as well as anything else. Besides, this top had the deepest v-neck of all of my scrubs, so I decided to work with what I had.
Are you fucking for real Bella? As if there was any way possible to make a crazy-ass talking sponge look anywhere in the zip code of appealing.
Of course I wanted to look as attractive for Edward as possible. All he'd ever seen me in was my disgusting workout attire, and while my work clothes were definitely not couture, they were a step up. At first I wondered if I should maybe incorporate some subtle makeup improvements, but decided against it, afraid that Carlisle might notice. I had to ensure that I behaved and looked exactly how I always did at work. Any deviation from the norm could possibly make Carlisle suspicious, and there was no way in hell that I would be the reason our cover got blown.
Once I got to work, I sat down at my desk and cleared out my voice mail. All the usual stuff – mostly pharmacies that needed calling for prescription refills or messages from parents needing to get in touch with Dr. Cullen. I decided that I would take the opportunity to call the hospital to check on Seth and see if Rose was on shift.
Next to Angela, Rosalie Hale was my very best friend in the world. She was a nurse and one of the first people I met when I started working at the hospital a few years ago. Ours was an interesting relationship to say the least. When Rose first introduced herself and invited me out for coffee, I thought she was just being friendly. I was completely clueless that she was actually hitting one me.
I soon realized that Rose was bi-curious and her affections didn't recognize gender. If someone caught her eye, man or woman, and if I were being honest, sometimes both at the same time, Rose made a play. As beautiful as she was, rarely got turned down. Rose's philosophy on love and attraction was simple: it was a buffet and she shouldn't have to stick to just one type of entrée. She liked sausage and taco equally. I, on the other hand, was an Eckerich only kind of gal. I may have very well been the first person in the history of Rose to ever tell her I didn't swing that way.
We both decided that the other was cooler than hell and settled on friendship instead. Of course, she always told me if I ever wanted a different perspective on things, I'd better call her stat. And in a pinch, I'd play the role of her girlfriend if she needed me to. If she was getting unwanted attention - from either team - well, I was her cover. Of course, the interested party immediately thought "threesome," which we used to our advantage in getting our bar tab picked up. It didn't matter how politely we refused, the drinks kept coming in hopes that we could be swayed, which never happened.
I heard the familiar voice speak in an amiable fashion. "Seattle Children's Hospital, 7th floor nurses station. Can I help you?"
"Only if you have a bottle of KY on you," I said jokingly.
"Do you need my help working your vibe again, Swan?"
"Not necessary, Hale. I didn't even need it last night, fuck you very much." It was amazing how fast Rose could switch from professional to crass sometimes.
"Bullshit you hooch! What are you NOT telling me?" Rose cackled in disbelief. Normally it was her that had all the juicy and sordid details. I was the one that had been going solo for so long that Rose and Angela had coined my lack of activity in the boudoir, or anywhere else for that matter, as "Bella's Recession." And of course, Rose was always offering her services for a stimulus package.
"Oh, that someone other than Bob may or may not have been responsible for my earth-shattering "o" last night. Nothing major really." I loved getting Rose's panties in a knot because I would make her work for the intel. It drove her nuts, which made me laugh. I had to savor moments like these because they were so rare.
"You better spill and fast sister, I mean it," Rose wailed impatiently. "Quit holding the fuck out on me, you wench!"
"Where is your professionalism Ms. Hale? I will tell you in due time." Oh, how I loved tormenting her. "First, I need to know how my boy is this morning, please ma'am."
"God, you can be so annoying sometimes," she huffed. "Fine, fine you evil hussy, but I want to know everything."
Rose and I both took the well-being of our patients very seriously, and she transitioned quickly back into professional mode. "Seth's X-rays show pneumonia in the left lung, upper lobe. So he's getting the usual cocktail of antibiotics, you know the Cullen special. Breathing treatments are Q3."
Seth's condition communicated, my girl immediately switched back into whore mode. "The Hot Bitch is almost done with rounds and should be heading your way very shortly. Now, quid pro quo, Agent Starling." I had to snort at Rose's use of Dr. Cullen's nickname and lame imitation of Sir Anthony.
"You have no idea how many times I've almost slipped and called him 'Hot Bitch' since I started working here, Rose," I scolded. I loved telling her she was a bad influence on me. "I swear, one of these days he's going to find out what we call him behind his back. And then I'll probably get fired for reverse sexual harassment or some crazy shit."
Suspecting that Rose was about to explode with curiosity, I took a deep breath and told her of my encounter with my insanely gorgeous spin teacher, and the subsequent revelation of his true identity.
Of course, I had to be very careful not to let my co-workers, especially Ms. Cope, overhear. No doubt I would be subjected to the Spanish Inquisition and she would tell Dr. Cullen everything faster than Mario Andretti in turn five.
It was obvious from her uncharacteristic silence, save for a few muffled gasps, that Rose had been sufficiently shockprised by the time I was finished.
"You're telling me that Spin God is actually Hot Bitch Jr.? Mother puss bucket Bella Marie! This is like an episode of Outer Limits that's gone soft core! So does doc know? Are you guys like a thing now? Swan you need to tell me what the dealio is right now."
I had to tell Rose to either slow down and breathe or grab an EpiPen so I could further explain. I told her about our plans for Carlisle, our lunch date, and the concerns I wanted to address before things went any further. It was a very real possibility that my need to slow things down a bit with Edward would result in our lunch date being the first and last.
I trusted Rose to be completely honest with me if she thought I was being ridiculous. She wasn't one to mince words at all, which is one of the things that I loved most about her.
"Bella, you have to go with what your gut tells you," she advised. "If you want to slow down and take a step back, then that's what you should do. If the apple hasn't fallen far from the tree, then he'll understand and be fine with what makes you comfortable."
She was silent for a moment, and then continued. "Say what you want about the Hot Bitch, but he's a great guy and a class act. He loves his family and doesn't abuse his looks or his profession to get his jollies. God knows he's got more poon shoved in his face up here from all the Nightingales."
"As far as your date Friday night, don't you worry, my beautiful bird." I smiled to myself as she continued on with her newfound plans. "Webber & I will be there tomorrow night with reinforcements before he picks you up. Yes, Bella, he will be picking you up."
As expected, talk of wardrobe immediately ensued. "For starters, you can't wear anything you own, so I'll bring some options from Chez Rose so that you can dazzle him properly. Of course, something tells me that you have already done that." Oh, how I loved Rose more than life itself sometimes. She always permeated such self-confidence; I hoped eventually I could adopt some by proxy.
Not too long after I hung up with her, my boss walked in the office with what I noticed to be an extra spring in his step. Of course, I knew the exact reason for said bounce, but was totally unprepared when I walked into his office and saw him….waltzing and humming 'Nessun Dorma'? Praise be to the gods of all that is classical that Carrie Ann Inaba is still breathing, because I was pretty sure that Puccini was rotating in his final resting place at that moment.
"Ahem, excuse me Dr. Cullen," I stammered. "I, um, don't mean to disturb you, but I thought you might want to go through your messages before the patients start rolling in. You're in a chipper mood this morning, by the way." I had to keep my focus on his tie so that I didn't crack up at the cat-eat-shit grin on his face. He knew he'd been caught, but was too full of himself at my presumed ignorance to really care.
"Ah, yes Bella, I suppose I am. I just have a feeling today is going to be a really good one, that's all."
Why of course you do, you sly Hot Bitch you . . .
The morning flew by in a haze of patients, coughs, wheezes and neb treatments and before I knew it, high noon had just about arrived. Which meant that the tall drink of water known as Edward Cullen would be walking into the office at any moment. I said a quick Hail Mary Full of Grace, even though I wasn't Catholic, in hopes that I would be able to hold my composure when he arrived.
I was on my way to find Dr. Cullen to get his signature when I heard that smooth-as-a-baby's-ass voice waft through the office, playfully teasing and flirting with Ms. Cope. As it had been more than twelve hours since I'd seen him, I badly wanted to steal a glimpse of his perfection, but I couldn't risk a melt-down before go-time. So I did the only responsible thing I could do. I went and hid in the bathroom.
I stayed out of sight for a few minutes, taking calming breaths and giving myself Stuart Smalley affirmations, readying myself for the performance of my fucking life. How, in the name of all that was holy and pure, I was going to walk into Carlisle's office and pretend I didn't know his son was beyond me. Was I really going to be able to look Edward in those gorgeous greens and not give away that he had touched my body, mind and soul in ways that had emblazoned and irrevocably awakened all three? I prayed to Thespis I would.
Apparently, his ghost must have heard me because somehow I didn't give anything away. The whole plan went off without a hiccough. Carlisle was probably going to have to unscrew his jaws to lose the smile that was plastered on his face.
Just when I thought Dr. Cullen's behavior couldn't get any farther left of center, Edward and I actually witnessed the homeboy metamorphosis as he mutilated some Nelly song. All I heard was the word 'pimp' and immediately my mind conjured up images of Carlisle sporting blingage and ice rolling in tricked out hoopty complete with fuzzy dice, 24's and Bone Thugs N' Harmony blaring from his woofers.
My mind had gone straight up Compton, until the elevator doors closed and it was transported straight into the San Fernando Valley. Before I could properly digest what was happening, Edward had my legs around his waist, his mouth on one of my girls and I was grinding against his rock hard dick, moaning like the whores Pimp Daddy C had been singing about only moments ago.
In a flash, need and want consumed and overtook all logic. All I could think about was Edward's hands roaming over every inch of my skin, the whole of me moving and responding to his every command, both silent and spoken. I was almost completely pulled under the desirous waves and caught up in the bliss of his caress, marveling how my entire being trilled at his touch. My mind knew that my body had never responded in this manner to anyone, ever, like it did Edward.
I could spend eternity reveling in the feel of his tongue kissing and licking, the deliciousness of the swirling and twirling and soft suckling sounds Edward made as he continued lapping at my breast. I wanted nothing more than to be consumed by and cloaked in the intense passion that overtook every fiber of me; yet somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I heard the small whispers of reason that began to grow louder with every panting breath that left my lungs.
Danger! Danger Will Robinson! Abort! Abort! Abort!
"Ed-Edward," I panted, "w-we have to stop. The doors are going to open unless we press a button." How I managed to verbalize my hazy, lust-clouded concern I had no idea. It took every ounce of resolve I had in my system to make myself say the words, let alone make my body stop clinging to Edward's.
It was now or never. If I didn't tell him in that moment we needed to discuss the nature of us and the fast pace at which things seemed to be moving, I might as well peel my clothes off right here in the elevator and let him have his way with me. And as incredibly enticing and unbelievably fucking hot as the notion seemed, I knew deep down I wanted more with this man. I needed him to know how I truly felt and down what road I hoped our future was headed.
As we made our way over to his vehicle, the sight of our two cars parked side-by-side struck me as being absolutely indicative of the way Edward and I must look standing together. His beautiful, sharp and ruggedly decked out Land Rover overshadowed my little unassuming two-door Camry. Not that I didn't love my Camry; it was a fantastic car. Just very common and plain, a lot like its owner.
The ride over to the Honey Bear Café was a tad on the quiet side, the conversation a bit strained given our impending discussion about where things stood. Luckily, it was only about fifteen minutes away from the office. Edward was listening to the latest Foo Fighters CD; I recognized it because I had the very same one on my Zune. I noted that we had similar taste in music and prayed that this was a sign of how our lunch date might turn out.
Before I knew it, the car had stopped and we were parked outside the café. I was staring out the window, my nerves frazzled and my mind reciting over and over the things which caused my hesitance, when I felt his thumb pull at my bottom lip, which I had obviously been gnawing on.
"I keep telling you I'm not going to be able to kiss you if you digest your lower lip, Bella. Is this your subtle way of telling me you don't like kissing me?"
If he only knew.
"Oh, God no Edward, that's not it at all! Trust me," I reassured him. "On the contrary, I'm pretty sure kissing you is pretty much my new favorite hobby. I just have a lot on my mind and there are things I need to get out in the open, but I'm afraid you might not li . . ."
Edward moved with the speed of a mountain lion pouncing on its defenseless prey as his lips devoured my own, swallowing my words whole.
"You're rambling," he said softly as he gently pulled away from me, "and obviously whatever it is that we need to discuss is making you uneasy. I can feel the tension emanating from your body in waves. You can talk to me Bella, I promise. Don't be scared. I'm here and if memory serves, I said I was in this, didn't I?"
He had said that, but my insecurities were overpowering. "Yes you did, Edward. I just worry that you might not like what I have to say and you'll disappear," I admitted, as my heart migrated north and settled in my throat. "And then this will be over before it ever really had a chance to begin."
He feigned apprehension as he quirked his eyebrow at me. "Hmmm. Well, you're not a serial killer and on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list, are you?"
"Not the last time I checked, no." I smiled.
"Well, that's very reassuring. Apart from that, I don't think there's anything you could say that would make me run screaming down the street. So why don't we go inside, have a nice lunch, and you can tell me what's troubling you about us."
Us. He said 'us' as in me and him. Together. That has to be a positive sign….
We walked inside and waited for assistance. The host approached us, asking if we were ready to be seated. After we told him yes, we followed him and his over-coiffed mish-mash of hair products.
I couldn't help but notice the way he was eye fucking my date-slash-almost-boyfriend (and hopefully possible-babydaddy-candidate). I couldn't really blame the poor guy; it wasn't like I hadn't engaged in the very same thing at the gym on a weekly basis myself. After all, it took an eyefucker to know one. I wondered if Edward had picked up on my Wednesday night aesthetic assaulting ritual.
Our host started to seat us at a table, but Edward politely asked if we could have a booth in the back where there was more privacy. Mr. Cakeboy looked over at me with the slightest of sneers and I swear I saw a silent "bitch" leave his lips before he turned on his heel and pranced over to a booth in the corner.
"How's this, sir?" he asked Edward, completely dismissing me.
"This is perfect, thank you very much." Edward smiled as he pulled me into his side.
I couldn't stop the huge fucking eye roll as Stanford Blatch told us our waitress would be with us shortly. "Looks like you have an admirer, Mr. Cullen," I taunted him. "I'm quite sure he would dive to catch any digits you threw his way."
"While I have nothing against the lifestyle whatsoever, I am personally all about the ladies. Well, actually one lady specifically." His green eyes flashed and he gave me that sexy smirk as he continued, "I have no desire to throw digits, as the one person who matters already has them."
Oh. God. He's way too good at this shit.
"So, the suspense is killing me Ms. Swan. Please tell me what's on your mind, because it's obvious I can't read it, although with you I think that gift would be priceless. Something tells me you don't ever fully communicate what you're thinking. And while your eyes and blush don't totally give you away, they do tip your hand slightly."
As I readied myself to spill, our waitress walked over and sat two water glasses down on the table. And while I was thankful that this knock-out strawberry blonde spared me for a few more moments, I was also prepared to stare down the newest eyefucker in our midst. Except that her gaze didn't linger on the incredibly gorgeous man that sat across from me, oh no. She was staring straight at me and licking her fucking lips.
"Hello. My name is Tanya and I'll be taking care of you this afternoon. Have you decided what you'll be having today?" She very suggestively cooed and licked her lips again. Still. Staring. At. Me.
What in the bloody hell? This just could not get anymore surreal. What was it about me that made people's gaydar malfunction? I looked over at Edward and noted that is eyes had currently bugged completely out of his head.
He somehow managed to clear his throat and gave Tanya our orders. Once she was out of earshot, he very devilishly said, "It looks like I'm not the only one here with an admirer, Ms. Swan. Something tells me she's not going to wait for you to toss her your number. A back rub says she gives you hers before we walk out of here."
"You're on." I grinned like a Cheshire cat. I was a winner no matter what happened. The very words "Edward" and "massage" used in the same sentence could only end in victory, regardless of who was rubbing whom. Slam and dunk. "Besides," I added, "I know someone that would be very interested to meet our stunning waitress. That is, if she doesn't already know her."
I told him about Rose and how our incredibly close friendship began with her attempt at a failed courtship. Edward thought it was wild that Rose wasn't sexually discriminate and mentioned introducing her to his older brother Emmett. I told him that I thought Rose's present affinity for all things Sapphic might be a bruise to his brother's ego.
Edward just laughed, telling me Emmett could stand to be taken down a few notches. After a few moments and one slightly awkward pause, Edward turned very serious and said, "Bella, please talk to me. I need to know what's wrong."
Eyefucking hosts and waitresses aside, I was all too aware that I had to get things out in the open before we could move forward. I recited the word "we" over and over in my head like a mantra, praying that there would still be the option of a "we" after I'd finished.
"There's no easy way for me to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt," I closed my eyes, swallowed my pride, and continued. "As attracted to you as I am, and as badly as I want you, I'm not having sex with you until I know for sure that's not your sole interest in me."
I went on nervously, "I've replayed last night in its entirety, trust me, over and over again. And while I am excited and thrilled that you even want to explore anything with me, you and me as couple just doesn't make any sense at all in my head. You are very obviously otherworldly; I mean you have to know how insanely gorgeous you are. You're kind of a Copperfield when it comes to ladies underwear I would imagine." I only briefly paused to refill my lungs.
"And me? Well, I'm just me." I continued. "Deep down I know I don't look anything like the women you normally date. Don't get me wrong, I don't have issues with self esteem and shit. I don't think there's anything wrong with me or anything. It's just - I get that the Giseles of the world end up with the Leos and the Toms. You very clearly fall into the Leo/Tom category. Me? I'm nowhere in the Gisele neighborhood at all.
"The whole situation makes my brain wonder what you really want with me, and well, the only logical explanation I could come up with was sex." I finally paused and took in a huge breath. However, I could not bring myself to open my eyes after the word vomit I had just hurled in Edward's direction.
"Bella, open your eyes and look at me." I obliged, but only minutely as he continued. "That's quite a lot to take in, I'll admit. But, please listen carefully to what I'm about to say: First, while I am absolutely interested and desire a relationship sexual in nature with you, that is not the only thing I want. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I can have sex pretty much whenever the mood strikes me. A willing party is not something I have to search too terribly hard for." He paused briefly to gauge my reaction to his admission.
"What I need is something deeper and more meaningful, and I believe you are the one to fulfill that. Of course the sexual chemistry and the intimacies we have shared thus far have been amazing, but I know that there is more here between us than the physical pleasures I have no doubt we can give one another. I've had plenty of sex; most of it empty, and while momentarily gratifying, largely unsatisfying long term.
"So, the answer is no, sex is not the only thing that attracts me to you. I will go as slow or as fast as you wish. You take the lead and I will follow. In regards to sex, I assure you that I will be ready but only when you are, and not one minute before then. And as far as appearances are concerned, it's painfully obvious that you don't see yourself very clearly at all." He reached across the table and took my hand in his own.
"Because in my humble opinion," he said as he kissed one finger….
"you are," then another…
"perhaps," and another…
"the most," and another….
"exquisite woman," lastly my thumb….
"that I've ever known," he finished, placing a final kiss on the back of my hand.
Hummina hummina hummina…Claudia Schiffer I am not, but I have just been Copperfield-ed, no two ways about it. I think my Vickie's Secret Very Sexy knickers have just dematerialized.
I wanted to say something, anything, in response to his beautifully reassuring words. All I could do was fight the overwhelming urge to leap over the table and plant myself in his lap and hold on for dear life. And breathe. I reminded myself to breathe because studies showed that oxygen was important. I was a respiratory therapist, for fuck's sake.
"So, does any of what I just said allay any of your apprehension? You look like you have about a million questions running through your head. Surely there's something you want to say, Bella."
It was at that precise moment that my would-be-wooer brought our food to the table. I had to admit, Tanya was challenging Mariano Rivera with the saves she was throwing down, as she was now two for two.
"I…I don't even know where to begin Edward. So, I'll start with yes. Yes, I feel immensely better about things now. I really don't mean to be so neurotic, and I sure as hell don't want to come off as a prude because I'm not."
I paused in order to collect my thoughts. "I just don't take sex lightly, that's all. Which is exactly the reason why my number of sexual partners is in the single digits," I admitted, maybe a little too sheepishly for my liking. I couldn't help but wonder how high the body count was on Edward's end. I figured as long as we were being honest, I would just ask him.
Edward sat there for a moment picking at his food, evidently trying to surmise how to answer my question. I was a bit taken aback because I couldn't imagine that Edward had been at a loss for words very many times in his life. I found it only slightly funny and considerably unsettling that such a simple question appeared to be giving him such trouble. And even more frightening was the prospect that the number was too high to count.
"Shit, how do I answer this without coming off like a complete tool?" He grimaced. "I mean, I think…if I had to guess….well, do you remember every time you trim your toenails?"
The hell you say? Dear gods of sexual prowess, please tell me he is not comparing sexual relationships to podiatry hygiene. It was only then that I realized I had spit out my tea mid-drink.
"Bella, seriously, it's not that big of an issue. Look, there was a point in time when I went through women like water, a part of my past that I'm not particularly proud of. But I've moved on from that sort of behavior and am more than capable of sustaining a committed and monogamous relationship. I want to very much with you, if you're willing to take up with a reformed gigolo, that is." Then he pulled out the big guns and smiled that smile that was so fucking hot it should come with a Surgeon's General Warning.
"Edward, I'm not quite sure how to respond to your question, which I'm going to assume was rhetorical," I stoically said as I still tried to wrap my brain around the fact that there had been so many women before me that he simply couldn't remember.
"Listen, I'm going to be as candid and open as I know how. Yes, I've dated a whole hell of a lot, and yeah, I've circled the block more times than I can count. I'm tired of the meat market mentality that's so prevalent. So, my philosophy is this: The next woman that I fall in love with and can give my heart and soul to, I'm not wasting any time, I'm going to make her my wife and my forever. That's what I want."
Yes, I would like an application for the position of Co-CEO of Matrimonial Operations and Parental Relations please. I can start immediately and am pretty sure we can hit the JP before my lunch hour is over. No telling what song Pimp Daddy C would bust out with at the news….
With that prospect out in the open, all I could do was nod my head, smile and squeeze Edward's hand, hoping against all hope that he understood what I couldn't find the words to say. That I wanted a forever too, and even thought it was a little presumptuous on my part, the idea of forever with Edward was indeed the stuff fairy tales were made of.
After we had finished lunch and I ordered a dessert to go - a slice of Honey Bear's Chocolate Decadence Torte, complete with fresh strawberry garnish - Edward and I headed back to the office so I could finish out my work day. I couldn't wait to call Rose and tell her I would need her and Angela's support services tomorrow night after all.
I was so relieved and pleased at the way our lunch date had turned out. I was both excited and amazed that Edward was still on board with whatever it was we were doing, seeing as how I had thrown a roadblock on the whole hibbity dibbity situation.
I genuinely looked forward to really getting to know him, biblical sense included, and savoring every moment we could spend together. The fact that he was allowing me to dictate the pace spoke volumes, and while I wasn't ready to consummate things quite yet, I knew that my submission was imminently imminent.
My elation was such that I didn't even care about trying to keep it contained around Dr. Cullen. I had no desire to hide the smile that Edward put on my face, nor the euphoria he'd injected into my soul. For once, I was going to allow myself to really experience the joy and newfound hope that my knight in shining armor had indeed arrived. And if Dr. Cullen wanted to gloat and add T Pain, 50 Cent and maybe even a little P Diddy, I would oblige and get my groove on right along with him. I was pretty fly for a white girl, I had to admit.
Edward walked me back inside the building. I told him once we got on the elevator that he needed to behave and be a good boy. Of course, Edward wiggled his eyebrows and told me he was always good. Yeah, I left myself wide open for that one, didn't I?
Admittedly, we were both a bit shocked to find that we were the first ones to make it back to the office. It was so strange to see a place that was normally filled with controlled chaos so atypically quiet. It seemed we had been gone for ages, but maybe it was the guise that being with Edward caused some eerie wrinkle in the space time continuum.
I asked Edward to go put my torte in the refrigerator because I had some serious plans that involved both that yummy goodness and my digestive system later in the afternoon. I dumped my purse at my workstation, heading into one of the patient rooms to see where I left my stethoscope. I couldn't seem to remember whether I had left it in the spaceship or the castle room…
I flipped the light on and started looking in the cabinets, when I heard the door close and a click of the lock. What in the…..
I turned to find Edward with my Chocolate Decadence still in his hand, his back up against the door with a gleam in his eye that made my heart cease and desist all palpitations. There has to be a crash cart somewhere in this office….
He slowly sauntered over to where I stood, as I was now leaning against the counter, my back towards the cabinets I had been digging in only moments before. Setting my dessert box down, he reached over my head to close the doors. He gently pressed his body against mine, not at all like the frenzied, crushing manner in the elevator, but almost delicately like a soft snuggly blanket. Flipping the box top open, he picked up a piece of fresh strawberry and swirled it in the chocolate frosting, never taking his eyes off mine.
"Don't you want a bite to see if it tastes as good as it looks?" He held the bite mere centimeters from my mouth. "Why don't you open up like a good girl and tell me how edible it is?"
"Well, since you were such a good boy in the elevator and minded your manners, it would be impolite of me to refuse such a generous offer." I smiled and parted my lips as my stomach turned somersaults at the idea of Edward feeding me.
"Say ahhh Ms. Swan," he crooned as he placed the chocolate frosted strawberry into my mouth. There was no fighting the breathy moan that resonated from my lips as I relished the delectable morsel, knowing that the only thing more heavenly would be Edward's chocolate-covered-strawberry-flavored lips. Or any other muscle he might allow me to cover in food sometime in the near future….
"Uh-oh, it seems that you've dribbled down your chin, sweetness. Here, let me help you out with that." With those dulcet words, he licked said dribble from said chin. .Fuck. "Mmmm, I don't know how edible your dessert was, but I can unequivocally attest to the succulence of mine."
..Fuck.
Before rational thought could take hold as to the complete wrongness of where we were and the decided shame and consequences should we get caught, Edward ensnared my mouth with his own, delivering the most lusciously scrumptious chocolaty strawberry kisses ever bestowed in the history of co-mingling tongues. Once again, I found myself powerless to stop as my hands wrapped themselves in Edward's copper locks and I tilted my head to redouble our exchange.
Edward moaned and for the second time in less than ninety minutes, I found my legs sheathed around his hips, his ever-expanding erection nestled right in between my most feminine of places. There was no denying how incredibly and sinfully wonderful he felt against me.
Grabbing my ass, Edward spun us around and carried me over to the examining table as I grabbed his shoulders for support. He tenderly sat me down on the table, my ankles hooking around him like a vice. Trailing tingling kisses down my neck and under my earlobe, he wriggled his hands underneath my pants and started kneading my backside with the most wicked ministrations. I slid my own hands underneath Edward's untucked shirt because I desperately needed skin-to-skin contact. His abs still felt as alluringly rippled as they had last night.
Obviously, the only thing my hips wanted to do was writhe when pressed flush against Edward's, because my self control wasn't for shit when I was in such a compromising position. Apparently neither was his, as he began bucking against my gyrations, pressing me more firmly into him with every squeeze of my ass cheeks. Back and forth, in melodic undulations our bodies moved forward and retreated, the repetitive motion becoming more and more forceful with each thrust. This was without question the most intense session of dry-humping I'd ever experienced, bar none.
I wanted to scream in pleasure almost as badly as I wanted Edward to do the same. We were working ourselves into a frenzy and I was about to toss my "let's-slow-things-down" attitude on the floor - along with all of my clothes - when all of the sudden I heard voices coming down the hall and Edward's phone ring almost simultaneously. Talk about a conspiracy, mother bitches . . .
"Ed-Edward," I gulped and frantically tried to catch my breath as quietly as possible, "they're back. We have to stop before they find us. And you need to answer your phone."
"Shit!" He hissed in my ear. "Yeah, okay." He was having as difficult a time as I was attempting to moderate his breathing. Edward pulled out his phone, briefly looking at the screen to see who was calling.
"Hey Mom, what's up?"
Okay, I didn't mean "mother bitches" literally . . .
"Yeah, I'm still at Dad's office. Yes I just dropped her off. No, Mom, now is not a good time." I wondered if he always sounded this exasperated when he talked to Esme. "Because mother, she is standing right here and I'm not going to give you a play-by-play," he sneered.
I was happy that Esme wasn't here to see the eye rolls that were taking place during the call. "Look, I'll call you when I get in the car. Yes, Mom, we had a nice lunch. No Mom, we went to . . . aw, come on Mom, just give me about five minutes to tell Bella and Dad goodbye and I will call you," Edward huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
After he hung up, he rubbed his hands up and down my arms, still miffed at the desiccant coitus-interruptus. "I'm sorry, I love my mother dearly, but she makes me ponder life in a straight jacket sometimes."
I smiled as I thought of Renée. "That's kind of what mothers are for, aren't they? Sometimes I think they have built-in radar for the impeccable timing of interrupting at the most inopportune moments. Besides, I'm sure your dad is going to start questioning my whereabouts any minute now."
"Yeah, I guess I better let you get back to work. Although, I don't think you'd be the one in trouble. He wouldn't fire you, he'd just disinherit me. See, he already likes you better," he teased as he cupped my face in his hands and stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven o'clock, alright? Our reservations are at seven-thirty. I'm not sure how I'm going to stand over twenty-four hours without seeing you. I guess this will test my willpower, huh?"
I laughed as he kissed me one last time, slow, soft and sweet, before backing away and quietly slipping out the door.
My mind, body and soul reeled with the developments of the last couple of hours. I had intended to be so strong in my convictions not to rush into a sexual relationship with a man that I had known less than a full day. Already I was envisioning nights filled with passionate lovemaking and a life overflowing with love and laughter. Wasn't it too early to be thinking about a happily ever after, and shouldn't the fact that I already was scare the absolute shit out of me?
All I knew was that as far as the "Edward Portion Control Diet" was concerned, my willpower was tenuous at best. Being close to Edward like that always left me hungering for more.
A/N #2: Awww, am I a meanie or what? Just a wee bit o'cockblockage there. But, no worries my darlin's. There is more citrus on the horizon.
Aaaannnd, we know who the text message Edward received last chapter was not from, don't we? Many of you thought it was from Tanya. *giggles* Um, no.
So….the term/character "Hot Bitch" is owned by the sole creator of aforementioned character and supreme goddess of all things PFac, the divine and insanely fabulous, Ninapolitan. I peed my pants when a) I found out she was reading my little ditty and b) she gave me the blessing to use her coinage.
As always, must send pinches and squeezes to my beta momma juliebee. She works my mess over with her majik stick and stops the bleeding with aspirin and bandages galore. She also gives "atta girls" and ass smacks like nobody else. I am so lucky that she took me on. Straight up.
There will never be enough I can say about my PM (Pimp Master) and wonderful friend RoseArcadia. She is amazing and I am so blessed to have met her through the greatness of this fandom. I would be an even bigger neurotic mess than I already am if I didn't have her stamp of approval on these chapters. Rose is the best-hand-holder EVER.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and put me on alert. You guise make me jumpyclap like whoa.
