Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer and Summit Entertainment own all things Twilight-related. No copyright infringement is intended.
Disclaimer #2: All non-Twilight characters in this story are entirely fictional. I pulled the names, including the last names of certain recognizable characters, out of my head; any resemblance to real people, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
A/N: Apologies. Times ten. My life has been a shit sandwich. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the last two years of silence just a little bit.
Warning: AH/AU.
Acknowledgments: A lot of people helped me with this particular chapter, and I am grateful to each and every one of them: to Carol, einfach_mich, BookwormBaby2580, and LawrenceLee93 for their insightful comments, suggestions, and inspiration; to pugridesshotgun for the preread and much-needed hand holding, and to aprisea for graciously helping me with my awful Spanish. You guys are awesome! Any mistakes in the final draft are mine alone.
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"Hey, little girl," I teased, doing my best to look irresistible. "Want some candy?" I couldn't see her eyes through the dark sunglasses, but I was pretty sure she was just as pissed at me as she was stunned by my temporary set of wheels.
"Fuck…" she whispered, scanning the length of the convertible.
I grinned, watching. Bella looked remarkably sexy in her Seahawks jersey and hip-huggers. So young. So carefree. My cock twitched as I studied those kissable lips. The perky little breasts she kept well hidden in that roomy top weren't so bad either, even if my imagination had to fill in most of the blanks. Small, large, somewhere in between – it didn't matter to me. I loved to worship them all.
Turning back to me, she cocked her head, the corner of her mouth quirking. "So. Is this my housewarming gift?"
Chuckling, I leaned back in my seat. "Nice try. It's just a rental."
"I didn't realize Avis kept these babies in stock."
"They probably don't. I lease from the private sector," I replied, a quiver of excitement shooting straight to my groin when she opened the passenger door and climbed in, plopping her backpack on the floor.
She glanced over at me, sliding her own sunglasses down just enough to show me those beautiful brown eyes. They were filled with mischief. "Naturally."
We gazed quietly at each other for some time, the pause charged with anticipation as electrifying as a live wire. I could tell she was gauging me, my intentions. Right here, right now, the possibilities were limitless; I'd arranged everything very carefully should she be receptive. But, there was still a whole hell of a lot left to be said between us in the aftermath of that night at the gallery. And I'd been stupid enough to hide from her the past two weeks while she'd recovered, too, which only made today's outcome even more uncertain.
Finally, one of her eyebrows arched. "Tell me, can this thing move?" she asked.
My grin widened. Leaning closer to her, I whispered, "Fasten your seat belt."
She complied – somewhat quickly, though whether she was eager for the ride or something more titillating I couldn't be sure. I wasn't about to make any assumptions on the matter, either.
A wave of exhilaration came over me as I grabbed the gear shift. I spared a brief glance behind us to check for traffic before I revved the engine, popped the clutch, and then peeled away from the curb in a flurry of squealing tires, just barely squeaking through the yellow light at the corner of 45th and Roosevelt. Bella cackled at my rather juvenile actions. I couldn't help myself; I felt like a teenager all over again. And seriously, who wouldn't want to push the package with a car like this?
"Careful, Carlisle," she teased, running a hand through her billowing hair. "People might think you're over-compensating."
The hilarity of her suggestion forced a bark of laughter past my lips. As if I were lacking anything in that particular department.
We cruised steadily towards the freeway in companionable silence. This part of town was looking far more run down than I remembered. The buildings themselves seemed tired, as though they'd given up hope after many of the businesses contained within had gone belly-up during the recession. I felt a tiny bit sheepish, barging through the neighborhood in a shiny new Ferrari, even if I'd earned the right to bask in such luxury.
"I can't believe Edward's playing for a tea party right now," Bella spoke up. "A real fucking tea party."
I'd planned to bring up the fact that he would most likely be engaged for the rest of the afternoon, but she'd beat me to it. Now I just needed to figure out where she wanted this conversation – and this impromptu rendezvous – to lead.
"Oh, tea parties are Esme's specialty," I explained. "She loves fawning over Seattle's elite women – all in the hopes of securing gallery funding, of course."
She snorted. "And Edward gets sucked in right along with everyone else by virtue of being her son, the poor bastard."
"Why do you think I head for the tennis club on tea days?"
Bella turned to look at me. "Ahhh, is that where you are right now?"
"You betcha." I grinned, bracing myself. The interstate was dead ahead; which direction I turned would depend entirely on what happened next. "Where are you right now?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady. Inside, I was a churning mass of nerves and self-disappointment. If I'd lost all chance to be with her, I had no one to blame but myself.
"Technically, I'm spending the rest of the day with Alice," Bella answered. I felt knots forming in my stomach, tightening to the point of being painful before she continued, "But, since Alice found her latest conquest during lunch, I guess I'm all by my lonesome."
I took a deep breath when the traffic light at 7th Avenue turned red, buying me a bit of time. It was now or never. "I know a place," I murmured quietly.
All kinds of tension sizzled between us as Bella sat silently beside me. It wasn't hard to discern that some of the vibes were negative. She had every right to be angry; I had no problem admitting that. I wasn't afraid to face that anger, either – dealing with pissed off women was my specialty. No, it was the thought of never being able to touch Bella again or hold her in my arms that instilled genuine fear in me and crumbled all my confidence. The fact that I was in this deep, emotionally, after spending so many years – so many decades – keeping my guard up only increased that fear tenfold. We hadn't even spent that much time together, and still I felt inexplicably drawn to her. Very few women had affected me this deeply. Unfortunately, those few had all succeeded in ripping me to shreds when I was most vulnerable. Part of me kept screaming, 'Why are you doing this all over again?' while the other part answered, 'Because you're a fucking fool, Carlisle. Always have been, always will be.'
I swallowed thickly as the cross traffic began to slow to a stop, the fingers of my left hand poised on the signal lever. Bella still hadn't spoken. She hadn't even looked at me. If this wasn't going to work, I would just hang a right here and double back to the east side, dropping her at their apartment complex. With any luck, she would simply get out, flip me off, and walk away, thus ending our almost-affair with absolute finality. Interaction with her on a familial level after that would be tough, but I'd deal with it. Life would move on as usual. I'd drown myself in a bottle of scotch and the next available warm body, and all would be well once more in my pathetic little world.
Seconds ticked by. Our light turned green, and the car ahead of us began to move. My heart sank. I shifted to first and began to ease up on the clutch, reluctantly signaling to turn right.
"Let's go," she said suddenly.
A spike of adrenaline overloaded my system at the sound of her voice, momentarily stealing my breath. I recovered quickly, though, turning off the signal and punching the accelerator. We barreled past several vehicles before I aggressively forced my way into the far left lane so we could turn onto 5th Avenue. Once there, we cruised south for a few blocks. With the I-5 on-ramp in sight, I slowed, waiting for the light to turn green. When it did, I floored her, and within a minute we were flying fast and furious on the freeway.
The Ferrari handled like a dream. Forget the elegant prancing pony emblazoned on the car brand's symbol – she was more like a wild mustang let loose from a corral. I found myself having to fight to keep her under ninety as we sailed over Lake Union towards the south side. The sun on my skin, the wind in my hair, having this beautiful woman at my side with the promise of hours of pleasure ahead of us… I felt fucking fantastic for the first time in weeks.
"Where are we going?" Bella yelled, straining to make herself heard over the roar of the engine.
"Georgetown!"
"Where?"
"You'll see!" I smiled, reaching for her hand, which I squeezed and then held gently. I was beyond thrilled when she didn't pull away.
Fifteen minutes later, I tugged in the reins, slowing our mechanical steed as I took the Airport Way exit. Bella watched our surroundings curiously, her brow furrowed. SoDo was definitely not one of Seattle's hot spots. Industrial districts rarely are. She probably thought I was taking her to some abandoned warehouse with a secret love nest. Actually, the place we were going wasn't exactly a five-star hotel, but it was exceptionally clean, out of the way, and run by some of the nicest people in the city. Besides, I had business to take care of there; I'd have come down this way today whether Bella was with me or not.
We drove past the old Ranier brewery and under the West Seattle Bridge, falling in line with everyone else headed to the Georgetown area. Once there, I turned right onto South Lucille. I'd envisioned bringing Bella here weeks ago already, the two of us ensconced in the one place I knew I we could lock the rest of the world out – the one place where the chances of our being caught in a compromising position were slim to none even in a worst case scenario.
Bella laughed quietly when I finally pulled into the rather unassuming lot, her gaze fixed on the motel's fiesta-colored sign. "The Happy Hacienda?"
"Never judge a book by its cover," I chided playfully, easing the Ferrari into one of the parking spaces.
"Will the car be safe here?" she asked, suddenly cautious. Indeed, ours was by far the most ostentatious vehicle on the property. Judging by those we'd passed on the roads, it was probably the most ostentatious in the whole district.
"Absolutely," I reassured.
Bella peered at me doubtfully, but followed my lead when I got out. She tried to be unobtrusive about it, but I still caught sight of her slipping off her wedding ring and shoving it into her jeans pocket. The symbolic gesture made me pause, but the doubt only lasted a few moments. This was real. It was finally going to happen, and I couldn't have been happier for it. Refocusing, I tapped on the car's key fob, and the trunk popped open for me.
"You're not even going to put the top up and lock it?"
I grinned, grabbing my medical bag and closing the trunk back up. "Nope." There was quite literally no reason for such precautions. Not here, anyway.
"Nice wheels."
Bella whirled around, obviously startled by the unfamiliar voice so close behind us. I hadn't seen him coming, either, but that was just par for the course. It was his job to lurk about the premises, keeping an eye on things.
Turning, my smile widened. "César!" I greeted, holding out my hand – and the two Benjamins I'd had folded up and ready for him. It didn't escape my attention that Bella had unobtrusively taken a step backward, shielding herself somewhat behind me even as she grinned politely at our exchange. I couldn't blame her. The big Mexican was as tall as I was and a hell of a lot more muscular. Scars riddled his face and arms, each one worn like the trophy he considered them to be.
César shook my hand vigorously, and then shook his head when he realized what I was doing. "Ah, your money is no good here, Dr. Cullen," he told me, handing back the hundred-dollar bills.
I promptly stuffed them into the pocket of his tight black t-shirt. "This is a very special car, mi amigo," I explained, clapping his shoulder.
His expression turned sheepish. He knew damn well my tips had little to do with ensuring the safety of my vehicle. "Thanks, man," he offered, fist-bumping me as he acknowledged Bella with a respectful nod. "Señorita." Then he slipped back into the afternoon shadows on the west side of the U-shaped building, offering no further arguments. I was glad of that. César had never been anything but cordial to me, and I definitely wanted to keep it that way.
"So, he's the local junkyard dog, huh?" Bella asked, her gaze following his retreat.
"That's one way of looking at it, yes."
She took off her sunglasses and squinted at me. "He's impressive, but if a group of idiots really wanted to steal the car…"
I chuckled, gently urging her forward. "César can be pretty intimidating, as you've already seen. Besides, he's packing. I know for a fact he keeps at least three concealed weapons on him at all times. And he knows how to use them."
Gaping at me, she murmured, "Is that even legal?"
I shrugged as we approached the lobby entrance. "I, for one, know nothing about it," I told her innocently, punctuating the statement with a wink.
Inside, César's brother Raúl greeted us with friendly words and warm handshakes, and then gestured off to his left, wishing us a comfortable stay. He knew why I was here – both reasons, and he also knew that I needed no directions. Gathering Bella's hand in my own, I led her through the hallways I knew so intimately. Some motels smelled of dust and stale cigarette smoke; others showed their wear and tear through visual cues: frayed carpeting, chipped paint, gouged woodwork, and the like. Not this one. Everything here was immaculate, and it always had been. Smoking had never been allowed anywhere in the building, so the air inside was fresh and clean, aided in part by small ceiling fans that were always in motion.
As soon as we rounded the corner at the end of the hall, I slowed to a halt and turned to Bella. I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers, a sweet promise of what was to come. She responded eagerly, much to my pleasure and relief, grasping the front of my polo top.
"I want you," she whispered once we'd pulled apart.
Cupping her cheek, I replied, "I want you, too. Desperately. I know this moment is long overdue, but would you mind waiting just another twenty minutes or so? There's something I need to do first. It's important."
She blinked at me, and then glanced at my medical bag, easily making the connection. "Yeah, sure."
I smiled, giving her another quick kiss before taking her hand once more. We walked to the very end of the corridor, which, unlike its corresponding hallway on the other side of the motel, bottomed out with a single door. I knocked, putting some force behind the action. A few moments later, the door opened, the delightful combination of chile verde and soft salsa music wafting from the rooms beyond.
"Carlos!" Luisa Martínez García exclaimed, stepping forward and pulling my face down until she could plant kisses on both of my cheeks. In her mid-60s, she was still a striking beauty, one whose maternal instinct brooked no argument. Without even waiting for an introduction, she ushered us both inside, rambling on in Spanish about how Bella was far too skinny and needed to be fed, pronto. I grinned as I watched Bella being led away towards the kitchen area. She looked back at me, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and massive confusion.
Before I had time to ponder why Luisa was teasing Bella by not speaking English, I was inundated by welcomes from the rest of the large family. I accepted all the hugs, handshakes, and kisses graciously, sharing brief but polite conversation with the older members. Once pleasantries had been exchanged, I zeroed in on my tasks, the first of which sat in a wheelchair on the far side of what served as the living room for all four generations.
Smiling, I approached the boy slowly, mindful of the fearful look in his eye. "Hey, Buddy," I soothed, kneeling in front of him. He smiled just a little and then averted his gaze. His mother, Graciela, sat in a chair right beside him, rubbing his arm.
"How has he been?" I asked her.
"Very good," she answered. "No bad time."
"That's great news. You're keeping up with his therapy?"
"Sí. We, ahh…we…hacemos ejercicios cada día," Graciela finally said, reverting to her native tongue when she couldn't find the right words. Fortunately, after hanging around Eleazar for so long, I'd managed to pick up a fair amount of Spanish, and had no trouble understanding her.
"How about we take a look. Would that be okay, Jesús?"
The boy nodded, laughing a little when I tickled under his chin. With permission granted, I proceeded to check the mobility in his legs and arms, stretching, bending, and palpating as needed. There wasn't much atrophy presenting yet; that aspect appeared unchanged since my last visit. Still, the progression of that particular muscular dystrophy symptom was enough to make walking very awkward and somewhat dangerous for him. I sighed, warring with my emotions. I'd always had a hard time remaining professionally detached whenever I treated children, especially those like Jesús who faced a shortened life filled with many difficulties. Add in the fact that I was such a close family friend, and it was hard to ignore that I would most likely be present at his funeral.
"Everything looks very good," I announced with a smile. Reaching down, I opened my medical bag and pulled out the stethoscope. "Time to listen to your lungs."
Graciela helped him scoot forward while I slipped the instrument on. "Can you give me some big, deep breaths?" I asked, placing the smaller side of the chestpiece against his lower back. He followed my instructions diligently, allowing me to confirm that the prominent asthmatic squeak was still there.
Taking the stethoscope off, I hung it around my neck and rifled through my bag. I hated this part the most, a sentiment I knew Jesús shared wholeheartedly. When I glanced back up after finding everything I needed, I saw his lower lip was already quivering. He was trying so hard not to cry.
"I like your t-shirt. Is that Batman?" I asked, trying to distract him while I gently rolled up the sleeve on his left arm. He nodded. "Do you like the old TV show or the cartoons?"
He inhaled raggedly before answering, "Dibujos animados."
"I don't think I've ever seen the cartoons. Is the story the same as in the TV series?" I worked quickly and efficiently, donning disposable gloves and then sterilizing his arm with an alcohol wipe.
Jesús sniffled a few times as he continued to try and keep his fear under control. Then he started telling me the superhero's story in that difficult-to-follow manner that made children so absolutely precious. He was switching seamlessly back and forth between English and Spanish as he spoke, another indication of how upset he was. The immunotherapy would last another two years minimum; for his sake, I certainly hoped the poor little guy would become more comfortable with this procedure in the future.
For the moment, though, I'd made sure to keep the syringe out of his line of sight. Mixing the sterile diluent with the allergenic extract ahead of time had also spared him that added anxiety. In a series of quick moves, I picked up the syringe, placed the capped tip between my teeth, pulled the needle free, and injected the extract subcutaneously – all before he'd even realized what I'd done. He was still talking away when I pressed a sterile cotton ball against the injection site.
"Here, Buddy, can you hold this for me?" I asked him.
He looked at his arm, placing his fingers against the cotton. "It's done?"
I smiled. "All done. I know you like Batman, but all I have are Spiderman Band-Aids. Will that be okay?"
Jesús nodded, smiling back. The evil syringe was gone – for now, at least. Unfortunately for him, either I or Eleazar would be back again in four weeks for another round.
After decorating his arm with a colorful Spidey bandage, I shifted my things to the coffee table where I could prep for the other two injections. Juan and Martín were already standing nearby with their sleeves rolled up. They were older and far less needle-shy, having been through this a lot longer. I followed the same procedure with them, and then cleaned up, tossing all the non-sharps refuse into a small bag. I would dispose of everything at the medical center on Monday.
Graciela smiled at me. "Gracias, Dr. Cullen."
"No es nada," I replied, glancing at the kids. Jesús was giggling madly with his siblings, the trauma of the day all but forgotten.
Luisa suddenly appeared at my side. "Now it is time for you to eat!" she insisted, herding me towards the kitchen. I knew better than to argue. When I looked up, I saw Bella smirking at me from where she sat at the table. A large bowl of chile verde had been set in front of her.
As we neared the kitchen, I made a beeline inside, looking for Mama Pilar, who was stationed in her usual spot in front of the stove. I was quite sure I'd never seen her anywhere else in all the years I'd known this family. I sneaked up behind her, wrapping my free arm around her waist before planting a loud kiss to her cheek, murmuring, "Eres las mujer más bella del mundo."
Mama Pilar immediately let loose with a playful tirade in Spanish, chiding me in equal parts for bothering her and for making ridiculous claims about an old woman being so beautiful. I laughed as she snapped her towel at me, the amused glint in her dark eyes giving away how she really felt. It astounded me how someone who had lived through The Great Depression, World War II, and raising nine children – not to mention countless grandchildren and great-grandchildren – could still be standing here in her kitchen, cooking for her family from dawn until dusk, without a single complaint about her health. She was every bit the pillar her name suggested.
"Siéntate!" she ordered, pointing to the table in the dining area.
I quickly complied, setting my medical bag on the floor beside Bella's backpack. As I took my seat, Bella leaned over and whispered, "I think you secretly like having women tell you what to do."
Grinning, I waggled my eyebrows, leaning down to capture her lips. "Mmm, you taste good." I let the double entendre hang in the air, curious to see how she would react.
"Whatever this is, it's awesome," Bella said, taking another spoonful of the hearty stew. She'd ignored the innuendo, but the slight quirk of her lips told me she'd caught on well enough.
A steaming bowl of chile verde materialized in front of me then. I glanced up to find Luisa gazing oddly at me. When I blinked at her, cocking my head in question, she just offered a soft, knowing smile before slipping back into the kitchen. She reemerged moments later with a basket of fresh, warm bolillos for us.
"Luisa, this is Isabella," I said, finally remembering my manners. "Bella, this is Luisa Martínez García."
"Isabella!" Luisa gushed, drawing out the name as she rounded the table. Bella looked mildly worried, but seemed to relax a bit when Luisa cupped her cheeks and gave her the same double kiss she'd given me. "You are such a beautiful girl," she proclaimed before switching gears without batting an eyelash. "You must eat," Luisa told her, tapping the table next to Bella's bowl in that endearing don't-argue-with-your-mother manner. "There is more when you are finished."
Bella stared after her, wide-eyed and obviously confused, when Luisa slipped into the living room, leaving us to finish our meal in peace. "It was nice to meet you, too," she offered belatedly before turning to me, whispering, "What was that all about?"
I chuckled. "She thinks you're too thin." Reaching for one of the bolillos, I tore it and offered half to Bella.
"Really? Well, considering I ate a full lunch right before you picked me up, I'd say I'm well on my way to some serious weight gain." She grinned, tucking back into her meal.
"No worries," I assured her. "I'll be working it off you."
Bella stopped chewing, her smile disappearing as she studied her food. "Always promises," she murmured, the social temperature between us starting to cool noticeably.
Despite the kisses and hand-holding and lustful whispers we'd shared in the last half an hour, despite the fact that I knew how deeply I'd fucked up, her words still stung. They were like mini hollow-point bullets piercing my chest, their trajectory taking them dangerously close to my heart. Absently, I dipped the bread into my stew, stalling. I'd known this conversation was going to happen. And I'd thought I was prepared. How many angry women – wives and lovers alike – had I faced over the years? It was familiar territory, a song I'd played time and again, upside down, inside out, and backwards at every conceivable tempo. I was a fucking maestro in this particular recital hall, but for some inexplicable reason she'd breached my defenses with a simple two-word improvisation, leaving me feeling slightly battered and shaken. I should have agreed with her. I should have come right out and admitted my mistakes, just as I'd had every intention of doing while making arrangements for this little rendezvous. Instead, my instincts took control, as they always did when it came to screwing with women, and I found myself hiding behind the only protective shield I'd ever found useful: arrogant indifference.
"Say it," I told her quietly, my gaze drifting back to hers. The accusatory spark I saw there wasn't unexpected. "Go ahead."
Bella finished chewing her mouthful. After another pause, she asked, "What? That you're a bastard for ignoring my messages?"
"Did you expect anything less?" I shot back before I could stop myself.
I felt the situation quickly slipping through my fingers as she glared at me, tears welling in her eyes. "You're right. I shouldn't have expected anything different from someone whose hobby is fucking anything with tits that isn't his wife."
We both straightened in our seats, focusing on our meals when Luisa suddenly reappeared, passing through the dining area on her way to the kitchen. "Let's take this someplace a little more private, shall we?" I offered when we were alone once more.
"Whatever."
I cringed at the emotion in her voice. This was hurting her, and that was the last thing I'd ever wanted to do. Were it possible, I would have given myself a good swift kick in the ass – and maybe a few more in the head too, not that it would have helped any. The damage was already done. Again.
Pulling a key card from my pocket, I pointed to the door. "Go straight down the hall to the emergency exit. Push it open – the alarm is silent, and the front desk will know what you're doing. Directly outside is a fire escape that leads up to a single door on the second floor. When you get inside the room, leave the door propped open for me. I need to check on the boys before I follow."
Bella snatched the card from me without a backward glance and grabbed her backpack. Within seconds, she was gone. I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. I had to get myself under control and stop this chain reaction before the devastation became irreparable. A million gloomy scenarios started flashing through my mind as I slipped into the living room. I managed to hold them at bay long enough to ensure that the boys weren't suffering any unexpected allergic reactions, but then they crept back to the forefront, looming harbingers. Christ, would Bella even be there when I got up to the loft, as we called it? She was no delicate china doll; if she was pissed off enough, I wouldn't put it past her to catch a cab to the U-District before I'd even set foot back in the motel proper.
"Carlos?"
I halted, mid-stride, as Luisa strode from the kitchen, crooking her finger at me. She didn't look happy. I cursed inwardly, wondering whether she'd overheard part of our conversation.
Forcing a smile, I met her in front of the table, bending to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for the chile verde, querida."
She just stood there, arms crossed, making me feel decidedly uncomfortable. I shifted my weight, wondering how I could politely extricate myself from this situation. One simply didn't walk away from Luisa, especially not when she had that look in her eye.
"One of these days," she began, poking her finger at my chest, "you need to start thinking with your heart, and not your pene."
I blinked, choking back a laugh. I'd never heard her talk that way before, not in all the years I'd been bringing women here on the sly. My amusement faded quickly, though, when her eyes narrowed. I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off.
"She is a beautiful girl, Carlos. She deserves better." With that, Luisa brushed past me into the living room.
Better what? Better treatment? Better lover? …both? I clenched my jaw, another round of self-loathing churning in my gut. I'd never told Luisa I was married, but I knew she suspected as much. The family heirloom I used as a wedding band was hardly proof of anything, but I'd paraded beautiful faces through here for many, many years, never once officially 'settling down.' Luisa was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. Feeling suitably chastised, I grabbed my medical bag and left.
The distance between the Garcías' suites and the loft amounted to roughly sixty paces and eighteen steps. In the past, I'd covered it in as little as twenty seconds when highly motivated, and as long as five full minutes when feeling impish. Today, it seemed like the longest walk of my life, and the only one I'd ever taken alone. A barrage of conflicting emotions continued to assault me along the way, adding insult to injury. How the fuck did I get to this moment? How the fuck did I manage to weave myself yet another dangerous web of lustful intentions that inexplicably reversed course, leaving me struggling to find my equilibrium? This endless circle of hurting and being hurt had become unbearable. I desperately wished I could just rewind everything and start over, leaving out the father-in-law-takes-up-with-his-step-son's-wife part altogether. It wouldn't have stopped me from thinking about all the delicious possibilities with Bella, but at least I could have suffered in silence, sparing her any of the agony of dealing with my unseemly behavior.
The emergency exit pushed open at my touch. Outside, the air was still warm and refreshing, but it barely registered as I ascended the metal stairway. I couldn't even look up at my destination, I was so afraid of what might or might not be there waiting for me. Each step I took weighed on me, dragging me down, until I finally stood on the landing just outside the motel's secret hideaway. There, in my peripheral vision…
One of Bella's shoes was playing doorstop.
I didn't pause, didn't stop to think or sigh in relief. I just let myself in, gently toeing the worn black Converse out of the way and letting the door close behind me. I shifted the tacky but requisite 'OCCUPIED' sign into place out of habit, and made sure the white ruffled curtains were sufficiently drawn against any prying eyes before allowing my gaze to drift in her direction.
Bella stood on the other side of the room, staring everywhere but at me. She didn't move when I approached. Didn't even blink. I set my bag down on the rattan dresser and stepped into her line of vision. It took a while, but she finally looked up at me. There was pain written in those soft brown eyes, a swirling mixture of hurt and anger and disappointment. Unbelievably, the only thought that crossed my mind at that moment was how fucking gorgeous she was. No remorse, no apologies, no random thoughts on how to fix this ridiculous mess I'd gotten us both into…nothing except profound adoration for the woman before me.
That's when I knew I was completely and utterly fucked.
I took a step closer; she took a step back. I edged forward again. She retreated in kind. Our little dance continued until the wall hindered her progress. Reaching up, I braced myself with one hand, leaning down until we were eye to eye. Her breath fanned across my face like a sweet breeze, but the look in her eyes remained hard, uncompromising. Like a challenge waiting to be met. And it made my cock twitch in the worst way.
Those perfect lips of hers called to me, and I couldn't resist memorizing their soft pink blush. They parted as I watched, and her tongue peeked out, briefly sliding across that oh-so-kissable surface. I almost groaned. Was she tantalizing me on purpose? My gaze locked with hers once more, and this time I saw a flash of something very familiar intertwined with the anger that hadn't abated in the least: smoldering desire. The incendiary combination lit my body from the inside out, leaving me barely able to breathe let alone control the aching need that surged in my groin. Bella still wanted me. Despite my flippancy and pompousness and extremely poor judgment, she still wanted this to happen. It was a tenuous thread, but it was there, and that's all that mattered.
Slowly, I grinned, inching ever closer to that beautiful face. Bella's chin lifted away from me, a last-second act of defiance. I allowed it, lightly dragging the tip of my nose across her right cheek until very little distance separated our lips. That's where I waited, poised.
Her gaze sought mine again, now heavy-lidded and filled with unbridled want. "Bastard," she whispered.
Permission granted.
My mouth found hers then, and I prayed with everything I had that she wouldn't push me away. Not here. Not now. All it took was a split second of indecision on her part before she fisted my shirt and yanked me closer in a sizzling explosion of passion. I responded with a flurry of tongue and eager fingers. Bella reached up around my neck, bracing herself while she hopped into my arms, wrapping those gorgeous legs around me. I pressed her into the wall with a loud groan, shamelessly grinding my erection against that unbelievable little body of hers. Christ Almighty…
A divine mixture of heaven and hell; that's what this was. Everything I could have possibly wanted was cradled in my arms, this beautiful, passionate, edgy little minx who set me afire like no other. She was also everything I couldn't have. Someone else's ring would adorn her finger the moment we left here. Someone else kissed her good night and fell asleep in her arms. Someone else could make love to her without regret tearing a hole in his gut large enough to park the fucking Ferrari in. This was hardly the time or place, of course, but it was difficult to hold the unsettling thoughts at bay. They hovered like vultures, lending a bitter taste to my exuberance. Here, in this room of fantasies, she was mine. But she would never truly belong to me, and that hurt far more than I would care to admit to anyone. Especially myself.
I pushed us away from the wall with one hand and swung around, half-stumbling the few steps needed to reach the bed. I couldn't bear to open my eyes just yet. I wanted this moment to stretch into eternity. Doing my best to cast everything else aside, I focused on the immediate necessities: Bella, beneath me; naked.
The mattress welcomed us as we sank into its embrace, but the bed frame protested arrogantly. I fucking loved that little squeak. I loved it as much as I loved hearing a woman's pleasure. It was bold and sexy as hell, proudly keeping time with each forbidden shudder.
While our tongues dueled, I rolled myself to the side so I could pull her jersey off. The brief pause needed to get it over her head afforded me the most breathtaking view: No. Fucking. Bra. I couldn't resist; I dove for those rosy nipples at once, teasing and worrying and sucking until Bella dragged me back up to her mouth. The tone of this kiss was different, though. It was much more forceful. Raw. With teeth. When she bit the corner of my lower lip, I tasted blood, and fuck if that didn't do a number on my already bulging desire. I pulled back, panting, needing to see what was written in those beautiful eyes. She was the picture of sinful intent, all sensual gazes and provocative posturing, but I wasn't fooled. A pissed off woman doesn't let go of her ire that quickly, not even a level-headed one.
I swirled my tongue over Bella's handiwork, the metallic tang awakening my taste buds. Had it been a playful nip or something just a bit darker? The corners of her mouth quirked into a self-satisfied grin while she watched me, causing all kinds of warning bells to go off in my gut. Not two seconds later, my steadfast reflexes helped me avoid walking around for the rest of the day with a hand print on my left cheek.
Definitely retribution, then.
I could have added my own sting to the mix, upping the ante for this little head game, but I was well aware that I deserved a lot more than she'd dished out. Still holding her right hand away from my face – and making sure the other one was tucked safely against my side – I leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. I followed it with a second, then a third, taking my time until I felt her begin to melt against me. My grip on her wrist relaxed just enough for me to gauge whether my initial wordless apology had done its job. I was relieved to note that it had, and when I let go completely, she wrapped both of her arms around me, pulling me close while she thrust her hips against my arousal.
Our mutual lust quickly heated things up. Her scent, the silky softness of her hair, the feel of her bare breasts pressed against my shirt…it was intoxicating. Not able to wait any longer, I forced myself to break away and stand up, reaching at once for the rest of her clothing. Her jeans, underwear, even her socks all came off in one sweeping tug. For a few moments afterward, all I could do was stare. Ever heard the phrase sex on legs? Bella was exquisite from head to toe, of course, but those legs… Yeah. They were fucking sex personified. Mesmerized, I grasped her ankles and pulled her closer, lifting one of those long, beautiful limbs for a closer inspection. Resting her foot on my shoulder, I trailed lips and fingers along her smooth skin, tasting, worshipping. I probably could have come in my boxer briefs just from touching her here, for Christ's sake.
Bella must have figured as much from the expression on my face, because the next thing I knew she'd reclaimed her leg, pulling it from my grasp. "You are way the fuck too over-dressed," she declared.
Grinning, I reached up and yanked my polo off, tossing it aside. Her eyes widened as she drank me in, much to my ego's delight. Exercise had always been a major part of my weekly routine. I was no Mr. Universe, but my body was very well maintained. And apparently that was a bit of a turn-on.
After pausing just long enough to offer Bella a nice view, I undid my slacks and divested myself of the rest of my clothes, carefully freeing my aching erection from its confines. She'd already caught a glimpse of my junk once before, but that didn't stop her from gazing longingly at that particular part of my anatomy. Then she fucking licked her lips, and that was it for me. Show and tell was officially over; it was time for some long overdue down and dirty.
I padded around the side of the bed, Bella watching my every move. There was no Bible tucked away in this particular room; there was, however, an abundance of things necessary for a damned good time. Condoms and personal-sized tubes of lube in a wide array of flavors adorned the bottom of the night stand drawer. I peered back at Bella, letting my imagination run with that train of thought. Definitely strawberry.
While I picked out what I wanted, setting all but one condom on top of the table, Bella pulled back the covers and scooted her way up to the head of the bed. For a few moments, that perfect little ass of hers was peeking at me. That was enough to spur me into high gear, ripping open the condom wrapper and rolling the sheath on in mere seconds. Then I pounced, quickly crawling across to where she was still arranging the sheets. She didn't resist when I turned both of us towards the mirrored closet doors that nearly touched the side of the bed, and silently urged her to lie on her stomach.
Mindful of my larger bulk, I molded myself to her soft contours, letting my hands wander along her arms and shoulders. The feel of my cock nestled against her cheeks made me throb. "You are so beautiful," I whispered, brushing her hair out of the way so I could nuzzle her neck.
Bella arched her back, pushing against me. "And impatient."
I aimed a breathy chuckle into her ear. "Minx."
Seconds later I sat back up, hauling her onto hands and knees. She squeaked at my sudden move, but I held her firmly, pressing us both forward until I'd trapped her beneath me, doggy-style. My eager fingertips found her clit, rubbing and pinching until she squirmed. Then I dipped into her center, testing. Oh, she was more than ready for me now. Placing a wet kiss on her shoulder, I aligned myself and teased her entrance, grinning when she started barking expletives.
I tortured her as long as I dared, and then tightened my grip to get her attention. "Watch us, Bella," I told her. "Watch…"
When her gaze met mine in the mirror, I pushed into her warmth inch by glorious inch, moving slowly to allow her body to adjust. Her mouth fell open, eyes closing against my delicious onslaught.
"Watch," I whispered again, nipping her earlobe. Fuck, she was tight!
Brown eyes opened once again, peering at me while she bit her lip. Her breathing deepened when I came to a stop, fully embedded, her fingers grasping desperately at the sheets. I held us right there, suspended. I wanted to memorize everything – the feel of her skin, the marvelous passion-swept tangle of mahogany hair hiding half her face, the scent of our mutual arousal…the absolute fucking perfection of everything that was Bella. She surrounded me – infused me – on so many levels, emotional and physical. I just wished I could pause time and live in this moment forever. It was Bella who ultimately broke the spell, though, clamping her inner muscles until I groaned in sweet agony.
Gazing at her intently, I pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of my thrust inching both of us a little closer to our counterparts in the mirror. I did the same thing again. And again. Bella writhed and grasped awkwardly at me, uttering a litany of four-letter words that made my cock even harder. When she begged me to pull her hair, I nearly came.
The pleasure of it all was unreal, exquisite and sharp. It made my mind and body sing in perfect harmony, and I used every skilled touch, every hotly whispered seductive expression I knew to make sure she was experiencing the same. Feeling her tremble absolutely thrilled me; hearing her guttural moans stroked my vanity in all kinds of new and exciting ways. I rubbed her sweet spot relentlessly with my free hand until she finally climaxed, my name spilling from those beautiful lips in a desperate, soul-shattering cry. Closing my eyes, I relished in the sensory overload that drove me closer and closer to my own release: the taste of her skin; the sound of our sweat-drenched bodies slapping together in precise counterpoint with that sexy, sexy squeak; the feel of her silky hair wrapped around my fingers while I held her head awry…
It wasn't long before I had both of us on our knees, with Bella trapped face-first against the mirrored closet door. I could hear the loud rattle as it shifted in its track, and something about that sound made me open my eyes again. What I saw cut straight through my heart. Our faces were obscured, the fog of our combined passion completely blocking the view. I tried wiping some of it away, a vain attempt to recapture the picture of blissful perfection I'd seen only minutes before, but of course it didn't work. We were blurred. Distorted. Just like our relationship. And our reality.
Two people fucking. That's all we were. Nothing more, nothing less.
The searing pain of that recognition sliced through me like a scalpel, reaching all those places deep inside where I was most vulnerable. I struggled just to take a breath, and all the pleasure I'd been feeling began to fizzle along with my once limitless excitement. I slowed to a stop, still buried deep inside her.
She expects to be fucked.
The lump that formed in my throat simply couldn't be swallowed. It was too large.
She wants to be fucked.
How could this have happened? I'd fucked plenty of women. That's what I did. I played and fucked and used them because that's all there was. Why was it suddenly not enough?
Because it's Bella.
Bella… God, this was so wrong. I couldn't even look into her eyes. I was screwing her from behind like she was an animal in heat, for Christ's sake. If I were being completely honest with myself, I didn't even want to fuck her – that was the kicker. And yet, here I was, doing just that.
"Not like this…" I whispered, letting go of her hair and hiding my face there while I blinked back all the intense emotions that were seizing me: remorse, anger…shame.
Bella craned her neck. "Carlisle?"
She deserves better.
Luisa's words rang through my head over and over in a torturous whisper. Bella did deserve better. So did I, damn it. Even if it was just for one afternoon, one single fucking afternoon in a secret love nest. I focused back on the mirror and our reflections. More fog. More blurred reality. Then my gaze slid across Bella's face – the real one, mere inches from my own. Her lips were still parted, her eyes straining to look into mine.
No more fucking.
My silent vow emboldened me, chasing away all the turmoil that churned in my gut. I slid from her warmth and shifted myself backwards, urging her to turn and lie down beside me. I searched her expression for signs of annoyance or disappointment, but all I saw was a certain degree of confusion, which was understandable. When we could finally gaze at each other face to face, I smiled softly, running my hands along her legs. Bella grinned back, rubbing her foot against my erection, but I gently pushed it away. This was my moment – my moment to worship and revere her; my moment to adore this breathtaking woman completely with all that I am. This is what she deserved: to be cherished, not fucked.
Bella opened herself to me when I scooted down and began kissing the insides of her thighs. So smooth…so feminine. She smelled divine, and I found myself drawn to her delicate center within moments. Unlike the hurried rendezvous at their wedding reception I took my time, tasting, teasing…pleasuring. I drank of her for what seemed like hours until she shuddered, the music of her impassioned cry shooting straight to my groin.
I brought her down slowly then, using gentle touches and whispered endearments. She didn't need to know that I meant each and every one of them with complete sincerity. I knew. Given the nature of our relationship, that would have to be enough. In here, though, I could imagine she was mine, and I poured every ounce of fervor into each kiss, each caress. My lips paved a trail of devotion all the way up her body. I felt her fingers stroking my arms, my head. Instead of the simple lust-filled stimulation it probably was, I pretended it was her own unspoken affection for me. It was so easy to do, too, especially when I nestled myself between her legs and gazed down into that beautiful face. For the first time in my entire fucking life, I saw no hidden agenda written in my partner's eyes; just a healthy dose of desire and excitement. Her expression was completely guileless. I hadn't realized until now how much I'd longed to hold a woman in my arms who gazed back at me just like this. Not even my own wives had been so candid. The moment was as dreamlike as it was profound, and a wellspring of emotion gathered in my chest, making it hard to breathe. My fingertips wandered lightly across her cheek in a gesture of tenderness so pure that I actually felt lightheaded. I was absolutely enthralled.
"Carlisle?" Bella whispered, the question reaching all the way to those soulful brown eyes. "Are you okay?"
I responded with a kiss, sweet and deep, while I cradled her head with one hand. The other swiftly joined our bodies together once more. And this time we made love, rocking and laughing like true lovers, wrapped in our own little cocoon of unselfish passion. The air was filled with all those unbelievable little sounds she made that drove me wild. I kept my gaze locked with hers as I thrust and gyrated my hips just so, smiling when her breath hitched.
"Fuck…"
Bella grasped a handful of the sheets, pulling them taut as she arched against me.
"Oh, God… Carlisle…"
I stole another kiss, my heart pounding when she frantically grabbed my shoulders, using the leverage to push herself against me with equal enthusiasm. Her breath was ragged when we pulled apart, her face and chest flushed the most exquisite shade of scarlet. Her mouth fell open, gasping and mewling as she began to shudder beneath me, and suddenly I was right there with her, spilling myself in wave after wave of glorious pleasure.
We were both still shaking when I pulled out and rolled us over, draping her atop me like a blanket. Bella was laughing softly into the crook of my neck, probably because I couldn't stop pressing kisses to her brow. I couldn't help myself; it was a beautiful moment, so pure and simple and so fucking right. The fingers of her left hand danced up my side and then along my arm until they twined with mine. The silence that stretched between us as we calmed wasn't the least bit uncomfortable – at least not until she spoke, her whisper piercing the afterglow with a harsh dose of reality.
"I only wanted to apologize."
At first I was confused, my sated brain a study in fuzziness, but then it dawned on me: the gallery mishap…which, naturally, led straight to my epic failure at showing any concern in the aftermath. Before I could even begin to sort out why Bella felt an apology was necessary, she continued, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
"I said some horrible things to you that night. I just wanted you to know how sorry I was for everything; that's why I kept texting."
"I'm the one who needs to apologize, Bella," I offered quietly, shocking the hell out of myself. "You had a legitimate excuse for your actions. I, on the other hand, did not. Other than being a selfish bastard…."
The words slipped past my lips effortlessly, without so much as a hint of the mental anguish I'd always envisioned in such a scenario. All these years I'd prided myself on skirting issues with women that required any sort of admission of guilt on my part, fearing it would make me look weak or allow one of my more conniving lovers to gain the upper hand. Imagine my surprise at how liberating – how utterly fucking good – it felt to say that I was sorry for something. Of course, unlike any of the other precarious situations in which I'd found myself tangled, I genuinely meant it this time. Apparently that made all the difference in the world.
Bella raised her head, her gaze finally meeting mine. "That's part of your charm," she explained. Her expression held no reproof – or amusement, for that matter. I saw nothing but honesty.
Her admission didn't hurt as much as the sad realization that it pretty much summed up my entire fucking life. I was a selfish bastard – a selfish bastard living among those who knew and accepted that fact. And I'd learned from the best of them, too, a long line of selfish Cullen bastards who'd proudly placed their own needs above everyone else's and surrounded themselves with small, like-minded SOBs. Next to me, Eleazar was an honest-to-goodness saint. God, how the hell could people like him even stand to be in my presence?
A pair of warm, inviting lips interrupted my umpteenth downward spiral of the day, pressing gently against my cheek. I smiled at the gesture, even as I fought back the shit-ton of guilt that threatened to suffocate me. I was treading on dangerous ground in so many ways…
My smile turned into a chuckle when Bella began rolling her hips against mine. I might be exceptionally fit for someone my age, but my poor body was still nearly five decades old. It would be a little while yet before Carlisle junior could stand at attention again. Her lips never left my skin as I shifted her to the side and sat up, yanking off the condom. They trailed a wet path down my neck and across my shoulder, pausing to lave the scar I had there, while I tied the rubber off and tossed it in the trash. Petite hands joined in the mix, touching me here, there…practically everywhere all at once. I grabbed a tissue from the night stand, quickly cleaning off my cock before swiping two tubes of lube from my stash. By the time I turned back to her, she'd sprawled backwards onto the sheets, ready and waiting. Bella had me right where she wanted me, and I was all too eager to fulfill her every desire.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in absolute fucking bliss. We made love twice more, the first round of which included liberal amounts of strawberry-flavored exploration. I finally got to indulge in my ultimate leg fantasy which, judging by all the quirked eyebrows and unladylike snorts, Bella just did not get at all. And after dozing for the better part of an hour afterwards, I showed my beautiful lover the art of slow, languid loveplay, of mind-shattering pleasure elicited by the lightest of touches and barely any movement at all. We were left breathless and spent in ecstasy's wake, lying in each other's arms until the long shadows of early evening began to crawl through the curtains.
It was with great reluctance that we finally parted, squeezing ourselves into the loft's miniscule shower for a quick rinse. More silence lay between us as we dressed, but this time the atmosphere felt much different – tense, filled with dark, heavy questions and answers no one wanted to hear. I fucking hated every second of it. I wanted to tell her this wouldn't be the end. I wanted to tell her how grateful I was for her trust, and how much I relished the time we'd spent together, but damn it all to hell if my mouth just wouldn't fucking work. I was too used to my old routine: screwing and leaving, entirely unconcerned with any messy emotional ties. Yeah, I was too used to being a selfish bastard. For some reason, that just didn't sit well when Bella was involved, and I was left at a complete loss. I kept glancing at her, hoping she would say something, but it was obvious she was far away, lost in her own thoughts.
I paused to watch Bella slip on her shoes, admiring, of all things, the gentle curve of her ear when she tucked back a few loose strands of hair. I found the action mesmerizing, and it wasn't until she turned to me, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder, that I was jolted back to the moment. Her eyes held a wealth of uncertainty – it was practically flashing in neon colors, yet she met my gaze bravely. That alone instilled in me a sense of resoluteness that I'd never quite felt before, and that, in turn, gave me strength.
"I really am sorry, Bella," I whispered.
Her gaze softened at my words, a small smile tugging at her lips. Stepping forward, she began fussing with the collar of my polo top, straightening and smoothing. I had a hunch there was more to the gesture than proper grooming, and it didn't take long before I was proven correct, though her train of thought certainly threw me for a loop. Bella's smile slowly morphed into a rather devious smirk before she asked, "Can I drive back?"
I blinked in surprise, automatically digging in my pocket for the keys. "Of course."
Standing on tip-toes, Bella pressed a loud, wet kiss to my cheek. "In that case, you're totally forgiven." Keys in hand, she all but danced her way out the door of the room, whooping and giggling madly.
What, no anger? No nasty verbal artillery or threats of blackmail…just: you're totally forgiven? Warmth blossomed in my chest, the first rumblings of hilarity bubbling forth until I was laughing outright. I'd had absolutely no clue something like forgiveness could be so straightforward and uncomplicated. And genuine. What a fucking revelation…
There was a spring in my own steps as I grabbed my medical bag and followed Bella down, stopping briefly at the front desk to offer my thanks to the family. By the time I got outside, she was already settled in the Ferrari, gunning the engine and flashing me that unbelievably wicked grin of hers. I had a feeling I was in for the ride of my life – and I couldn't fucking wait.
We blazed a trail out of Georgetown, the likes of which would have landed us both in jail had there been any cops along our path. I wondered, momentarily, whether there would be any tread left on the tires by the time I returned the car, but that thought got crushed when Bella took a hard left in SoDo and sped through an abandoned warehouse. Parking in the rear, she bowed, offering up her own penance for perceived sins in the form of the best fucking blowjob I've had in my entire life. I shuddered and groaned and laughed until I didn't think things could possibly get any better. Then she kissed me, sharing my taste and making my brain turn to mush.
After necking like teenagers, we raced against twilight down the I-5. It's a good thing I wasn't driving because I couldn't stop watching her. The way the sleepy sun's rays brought out the reddish highlights in her hair; the way the wind caressed all those beautiful curves I wanted to touch again so badly; how her smile broadened each time she shifted gears and accelerated… It was ineffable, this feeling I had. It filled me, warmed me…made me feel whole in ways I'd never experienced. All from just a glance at the woman beside me. Just a single glance.
It seemed like such a small thing at first – tiny, ever-present pinpricks of confusion that finally coalesced into brilliant clarity – but the epiphany, when it happened, left me paralyzed with both fear and astonishment. This wasn't one of my usual affairs; it hadn't been from the very beginning. It wasn't even a midlife crisis rearing its ugly head. All the guilt and self-doubt, all the second guessing every single action where she was concerned…all the warmth, all the hopes and desires – all the tumultuous emotions that had never, ever been a factor in any of my relationships, illicit or otherwise… The answer was so fucking simple that I hadn't even seen it sitting right in front of me. I wasn't lusting after Bella at all.
I was in love with her.
Fuck.
(~ * ~ * ~)
A/N: In the last two years, I've struggled through a few severe bouts of creative fog; I lost my mom; I've become the primary caretaker for my partially disabled father who, unfortunately, was sick most of last year; I've remodeled a house; I've been forced to move, downsizing an entire house to the space of two rooms, and I've endured some seriously horrible family %#! in the wake of my mother's passing. Things have been dark and ugly, hence the shit sandwich. And yet, in the midst of all the stress and grief, my Muse began to sing again. I knew she would. Eventually. I'm hopeful this means there are happier times ahead.
Again, my deepest apologies for making everyone wait so long. I also apologize to those who have sent feedback or written, only to receive silence from me, and to those whose stories I have yet to catch up on. I needed to step away and get my bearings again before I could come back to play. Now I'm ready.
Translations
Hacemos ejercicios cada día = We do some exercise every day.
Dibujos animados = cartoons
No es nada – You're welcome.
Eres las mujer más bella del mundo. = You are the most beautiful of all women.
Siéntate! = Sit down!
Querida = Dear
Pene = penis
