A/N: Back in BPOV. Hope you enjoyed a little break from her thoughts… ;)

In celebration of my 50th comment, I introduce a little surprise within this chapter—and why it's rated M.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the characters within. Too bad I didn't have Officer Hottie dreams before hers… U_U

Music: "Amid the Falling Snow" by Enya
"Because I Want You" by Placebo
"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails


Chapter 7: Don't Give Up on the Wanting

I know I'm not home because when I roll over in bed, I don't fall off the bed like I usually do. And plus, I don't even remember my bed being this comfortable. You'd think that being a doctor I would have a lot of nice stuff, but the truth is I have sucky pay and no reason why I need to spend so much money on a bed and bedding when I'm only going to be able to use it maybe a few hours each night? And who is going to see my bed aside from me? Exactly!

I'm still confused on where I am. I vaguely remember leaving the hospital, but how? I absentmindedly rub my palms on the bajillion count sheets, thinking about the events that lead up to me leaving my shift last night. Coming up with a blank, I grow somewhat scared. I seem to have forgotten how I got to…Wherever the hell I am. Did I get a cab ride home? No, I couldn't have. Otherwise, I'd be in my own bed. I know Rose couldn't take me home because she was just coming onto her shift. I remember seeing her before hurrying to leave. But why was I in a hurry? Was I meeting someone?

I begin the feel the flutter in my chest that usually signifies that I'm about to have a panic attack. To help ward it off, I turn to my side and hug one of the pillows to my body. And the smell hits me…

Edward.

I groan. His smell is intoxicating. I know that if I was locked in a room full of men, I would be able to hone in on Edward just by his smell alone. If his smell was a drug, I would be addicted. I slowly rise from the bed, I can smell him everywhere. Am I hallucinating or is this a really good dream? Even I don't dream this good. And lately, I've been having some really awesome dreams—including one of him carrying me in his arms. I could even feel his strong chest against my cheek as I nuzzled towards his warmth. That was one of my better dreams. Until I had this one.

I fumble to my side, hoping to find some sort of light. My hand brushes against a cool metal stand that vaguely feels like a lamp. I sneak my fingers up the stand to find a switch of some sort. When I find it, I click it to find that it does not work.

What the hell?

I lower my hand to find a cold plastic form of a Blackberry. I press a random button and see that it is indeed my phone. Using it as a flashlight, I swing my legs off the bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. Using my outstretched hand and my Blackberry, I slowly navigate my way around the unfamiliar room to a door. I open it to find a huge closet which is saturated with Edward. If I weren't so freaked out at this point, I would rush inside this closet, pull all the clothes off the hangers onto the ground, and just roll around in it—like a child would with a pile of leaves. Instead, I close the door and move along the wall to another door. It opens to a dark hallway that has some light. I walk towards the light, curious to see what the source is.

The source of the light is a number of candles that line a set of wooden steps going down. Every third or fourth step has a glass candle. This provides me enough light that I no longer need my Blackberry, which I then slide into the back pocket of my jeans. Figuring that my dream-mind is telling me to follow the light—literally—I carefully make my way down the steps. The temperature drops as I make my way downstairs. I hug my arms against my body, hoping that I would trap some warmth in my vital organs area. My body is way too cold for this to be a dream.

The candles veer off to the right at the bottom of the steps into a large space. By now, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness. I can see an eerie light coming from one large bay window on the left wall into a room that I now recognise as being a living room. I shuffle my feet towards a dark rectangle, something I assume to be a couch. As I get closer to the couch, I hear heavy breathing.

I freeze. Someone else is here with me, and I don't know who the hell it is.

I quickly glance around, hoping to find some sort of weapon. My feet bump against a hard object resting on the ground. Soundlessly, I squat to the floor and feel a case, almost like a briefcase. But this one is locked tight, but heavy as hell. I lift it up, hoping that I can swing it hard enough to do some sort of damage. Slowly, I make my way towards the couch and the unknown person.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I really hope that whoever is on the couch doesn't have vampire hearing or my advantage of surprise would be completely compromised. I am thankful for the collection of lit candles on the coffee table in front of the couch, which will allow me to get a better view of the person. I peer over the couch and hope to hell whoever is hiding there is someone who is a whole lot smaller than me.

He's not. In fact, he's the star of my bizarre dream. Edward. This dream has gone totally bizarro.

And he's all curled up on his tiny couch wearing only his boxers. One arm is folded under his head for a pillow, the other is resting across his stomach. His thin blanket has managed to slip off his body and onto the floor, allowing me full view of his bare legs. Because he is so tall and the couch is obviously too small for him, his long legs are tucked and drawn up. His breathing is deep and measured which leads me to believe he's asleep. I lower the case to the floor and walk around to the front of couch.

He stirs slightly causing me to freeze. He gives a huff sound before straightening out one of his legs and goes back to sleep.

Whew.

I kneel before him on the floor in front of the coffee table while keeping an eye out on him. From this angle, I can see his dark eyelashes so long that they feather across his upper cheek. Normally I would think it would look too feminine on a man, but for Edward they are perfect. His face is completely clean shaven, something I've never seen on him. I'm not sure if I prefer the light scruff that I've associated as his "image" or this clean-shaven look. His hair, on the other hand, still looks like sex hair. I assume it's because it's unmanageable because it doesn't look like he uses any product in it. It just looks clean and soft.

I figure since I'm in a dream, I might as well dream big. So I reach my right hand out and lightly run my fingers through his hair, down his sideburn and onto his cheek. The candlelight highlights the bronze tints of his hair, giving him a golden glow.

His hair feels softer than mine, which is totally not fair. Especially since he probably uses crap shampoo and I use expensive organic and sulfate free shampoo and conditioner to make my hair a little manageable. I run my fingers though his hair a few more times, resting my chin on the very edge of the couch so I can continue to look over his face. I'm amazed to feel the difference between the soft hair on his head and the coarser hair that make up his sideburns. Jacob didn't have sideburns for me to admire, and very little body hair for that matter.

If I was paying attention, I would have noticed that his deep, measured breathing became shallower and sort. I would have also noticed that as I was running my hand through his hair to his neck, his eyes had opened. But I wasn't paying attention, obviously. I was utterly fixated on feeling Edward more than seeing him at this point. Needless to say, when I did realise that he was awake, I gave a gasp of surprise.

I had placed my hand against his bare chest to help me push myself away when I had my realisation. He must have understood my intention because the hand that was previously resting across his stomach was now wrapped gently around my wrist. I knew that I could've broken away from him except I really didn't want to run away this time. I'm tired of running away from him. Judging by the look he was giving me, he didn't want me to run away either.

Wordlessly, Edward slowly moved to a sitting position, still holding my wrist against his chest. I could feel his pectoral muscle flex and relax as he boosted himself up. He felt so… Right. Following him, I rose to my knees so I was somewhat eye level to him. With his free hand, he lifts it to my cheek and softly caresses it. I instinctively lean into hand, enjoying the feeling of his cool callused palm against my too-hot skin.

Edward finally lets go of my hand to carefully run it through my hair. This allows me to feel his smooth chest, which is lean and defined. Although he's not brawny like Emmett, he's still muscular but more so like a swimmer rather than a footballer. His skin is surprisingly smooth except for a small patch of hair that circles his belly button and dives into his boxers. As I watch my hand roam down to this area, my breath hitches. Even though it is dark, I can clearly see his erection straining against the confines of his boxers. It's impressive to say the least. I want to free him from the confines of his boxers, but I'm not sure if my dream-mind can properly detail Edward's cock. I can definitely remember his erection pressing against my thigh when he caught me on Thanksgiving. I want that feeling back, only this time against my core.

Edward drags his hand through my hair and down my arm. Suddenly I feel like I'm wearing too many clothes. I desperately want to feel his hand on my bare skin. I stand abruptly, pulling myself from his touch. He gives me a longing look and one of… disappointment before he lowers his face into his now empty hands.

"Edward," I softly say. "Look at me."

It takes him a minute to comprehend my gentle command, but he does slowly look up at me.

"I want you to look at me… All of me."

As this is a dream and not reality, I push aside my insecurities in attempts to show Edward my own desired for him. With a deep breath, I slowly unbutton my jeans, watching his expression shift towards one of desire and lust. He soon realises what I'm about to do and scoots forward on the couch. I don't know if he's trying to stop me or to help me, but either way I back away from his hold with a shake of my head. He leans back on the couch, still watching me now with hooded eyes. I step out of my jeans and nudge them to the side with my foot. Taking a deep breath, I lift my off-shoulder sweater. For the moment my head is covered with my sweater, his breathing gets more ragged. I really hope it's because he's turned on rather than disgusted.

My sweater clears my head, letting me see Edward as I stand before him in my lacy boyshorts and matching bra. I silently thank Rosalie for yet another contribution to my lingerie collection. I hope in my next dream I will have just as nice underwear—or even better, I'll start out with a whole lot less clothing.

Now we are evenly clothed.

I let Edward admire my semi-nude body. His eyes roam a number of circuits from my head to my feet, and back up again. With a smile that I can only describe as satisfaction, he opens his arms to me. I walk to him, letting him finally be able to touch my body. His large hands span across my taunt stomach and down to my hips where they rest momentarily before up my arms and to my shoulders. He pauses, almost in hesitation before gliding feather soft to my breasts. His hands palm my breasts gently, almost if they are fragile globes.

Now this is not going to happen. Afterall, it's my dream, right?

I raise my own hands and cover his. I gently squeeze his hands, hoping he understands what I'm trying to convey. He understands almost immediately, and begins to squeeze and kneed my breasts on his own.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying Edward's ministrations for a few moments. He finds my pebbled nipple and lightly pinches it with his long fingers. I moan with pleasure and bring my focus back on Edward.

His eyes have a glassy look to them. I'm not sure if he's even seeing what he's doing but rather using his sense of touch to guide him. Regardless, I want to feel more of him against my bare flesh. I take a small step forward, allowing me to straddle his legs with my own. Looking down, I can see the opening of his boxers parting a bit, giving me a small glimpse of his hard cock. I lick my lips as I slowly lower myself onto his lap, hoping that my throbbing core will come in contact with his boxer-covered cock.

When I seated firmly on top of him, we both groan with contentment. Feeling Edward's erection now with such little clothing between us is amazing and nothing like our chance encounter before. Furthermore, in the position I am in, I can rub myself against him. I slowly gyrate my hips against his lap, rubbing my now soaking wet core against Edward's throbbing cock. My right hand rests on his shoulder while my left on his back.

Dreams rock. Especially ones as realistic as the one I am having.

Edwards nudges my bra cups aside, baring my breasts to him. Anticipating his intentions, I arch my back slightly to allow him better access to my nipples. One hand clamps onto one breast and the other is splayed on my low back to provide me better support as I continue to grind against him. He takes one nipple in his warm mouth and begins to suckle and circle with his tongue. I begin to pant as he switches between breasts.

I can feel his boxers getting damp with my secretions, creating delicious friction between our bodies. He gives a grunt of pleasure as I rake my fingers across his back—hard. That'll leave a bit of a mark.

"Ed…ward…" I pant loudly. Such a wanton, but who honestly cares? "Ughhh."

Edward stops his ministrations with his hand and moves it down to between us. I can feel his fingers begin to probe my clit through my sopping wet panties. His mouth now latches hard on the flesh above my breast. I move my head forward to rest my cheek against his right shoulder.

"So…beautiful," he says breathlessly. He rubs my clit with more pressure, building up the coil of tension deep in my abdomen.

"Uh…Ed…Ward… I'm...FUCK," I exclaim as the tension continues to tighten. I know I'm not going to last much longer. In attempts to contain my moans, I latch my mouth onto his shoulder and bite… Hard. He shouts loudly, but not with pain thankfully.

Edward tenses under my body with an explicative, indicating that he, too, will seek release soon.

And together we orgasm, yelling out each other's name.

Hearing him shout my name is the last thing I remember before blacking out.


A/N: For those who aren't gun aficionados (or redneck, like me) a gun case is a locked case that one would store guns and ammo in. Pictures of Edward's case is linked on my blog, citrus-twist[dot]blogspot[dot]com. I'm also on twitter if you want to stalk me there—[at]needacoffeeIV

SO… Who needs to change their panties/underroos now? XD I cannot be held responsible for any underpants damage that occurs as a result of this story ;)

Soz this took a wee bit longer to post. Can you blame me if I am only human? ;) Not only do I now have a beta (YAY!)—meet Edward-Jacob4Ever01—but also sheviking was devious and posted her own update to Taken in the Night. If you haven't had the opportunity to read it, search for it or find it under my "favourite stories" section.