A/N: Thank you to my Beta, xoxocullenluverxoxo. You're the best!
Thank you to those of you who read, have made April in Paris a favorite, put it on your alerts, reviewed and to those who did not, my little lurkers...please review. Don't be shy. I'll respond to all of you. Good or bad, I want to hear.
I do not own Twilight or its characters. I do own a green Kitchen Aid mixer.
Left Bank by Air...give it a listen.
Enjoy
BPOV
"You're so beautiful." He told me kissing my eyelids tenderly while aftershocks rocked my body. His breath washed over my face; hot and sweet, making me shiver and ache for more. I wanted him inside of me. I wanted to watch him unravel while I rode him.
Almost as if he knew my thoughts, his cock twitched, hardening further between us. Holy Fuck! My body was dripping already anticipating the heavenly fullness that awaited me behind his zipper. I could only hope I'd get to feel it tonight.
"I love watching you like that, coming apart under me, over me. God, Isabella you have no idea. Just like the last time…" He declared thickly.
Wait a minute…last time?
He had seen me like this before, four times in fact but he had told me, quite vehemently, that he did not remember anything for our night together. Nothing at all. But of course, he did. He wasn't drinking excessively; I don't know why I hadn't seen through his explanation before. My heart sank.
Liar. He lied, over and over he lied. Led me to believe it had been nothing more than an intoxicated blur. Fucking Liar.
"Put me down."
I don't know if he heard me or not; both my voice and nerves were shot. I wasn't angry, I couldn't find anger, but I felt sick. Perhaps if he weren't touching me I'd stop feeling as if I was swaying in the middle of a choppy ocean on a tiny skiff with no Dramamine. Carlisle didn't move, on the contrary he felt closer, unable to put space between our bodies. I felt his hard thick length pulse against me again and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning at the sheer pleasure of such a small thing—or rather large thing. Even tinged with his dishonesty it was appetizing.
Bella, he lied to you and you're still thinking about his cock. Get off him, now!
Before I did something stupid, I asked him to please put me down. I needed an explanation. The second he put me down I felt worse; empty, exposed, and deceived. It all came rushing back to me then.
These feeling were unbearably familiar. It had been a year since I felt any of them and here I was—the afterglow of my orgasm a distant memory—on Seth's roof watching a man squirm.
Jake squirmed that night too.
"You lied to me." How simple was it for people to lie to me? Did I make it difficult to be honest?
"Please, Isabella let me explain." I merely nodded watching the amber glow of the street lights play over his face. He dragged a hand nervously through his hair before he began speaking again. "I never meant to deceive you. It isn't something I set out to do, but then in my office that morning I said the only thing I could think off. I said the first thing that came to mind; I figured it would be—"
The door whipped open, startling us both.
"Bella, I know you don't like being the center of attention but you 'ave to be down there at some point this evening. I can't keep them away from you all night…"
At first Demetri didn't notice Carlisle but when he did his eyes narrowed and practically snarled. His protective streak broke through in foul words he thought Carlisle couldn't understand.
Carlisle winced at the obvious disdain in his voice when Demetri pin pointed him as the one from the photos, calling him every horrible name he could think of…the worst being American Pig.
"Demetri, C'est assez ! Mon père s'avère justement être un Américain. Ta gueule et descendez des escaliers, je serai là bientôt." He left without another word, but he was far from done with me.
I was not looking forward to that conversation.
"Isabella…"
"I can't do this now, I'll talk to you on Monday Carlisle." Smoothing my dress over my thighs making sure everything was where it needed to be I turned and left him. I didn't even get to the fourth step before his hand wrapped around my arm, spinning me around to face him.
"Please Isabella, I can't wait that long. We need to do this now." His eyes pleaded with me, deep and vibrant, they begged me to stay and listen.
The look alone would have kept me at his side but in combination with the warmth of his body and the promise of an explanation, I was spellbound. "I don't like being lied to Carlisle. Why would lying be the first thing that came to your mind? Is that a reflex of yours? You could have told me instead of making me think I was the only one with any memory of what we did, how it felt. You let me believe what I felt was one sided and it's pretty obvious from what just happen up there that it wasn't…isn't. Fuck, you have no clue how much I—"
"Bella, get down here now. Demetri is pissing his pants. Oh, Carlisle, you're looking just as delectable as before."
Back off trouduc!
"I see you've met the lovely Bella, don't bother barking up this tree…the girl opens for no one. There was once this—"
"Seth!" I growled.
"What? It's true mon ami, when was the last time you were properly worked over?" I blushed and cursed yet another trait I had inherited from Renee.
"I'm leaving now and I'd appreciate if you could not talk about my sex life or lack thereof while I'm gone. I'm sure Carlisle does not need to know how long it's been since I've been," I shot a look at Carlisle; mostly because I wanted to watch his face, "properly worked over."
His mouth hung open and his beautiful deep blue eyes widen before he brought his hand to his face scrubbing it harshly. Just the reaction I was looking for. Seth raised an eyebrow and made no comment but he wasn't thickheaded—he knew there was more here than just a casual meeting.
When I rejoined the party, I was forced to put the I'm-so-pleased-to-meet-you-Bella-face on. Apparently while I was away the rest of my paintings were sold,. I would have loved to meet the person who bought the blue depressing one, but instead I was paraded in front of the arrogant high brow buyers, critics, art dealers, and reporters asking questions; where do you work? Could I watch? Who was the man you were having sex with at Churchill pub? Is he here? Did your mother give you any advice on juggling men?
You know the normal run of the mill questions. I resisted the urge to punch the prick that asked me the last question.
At some point the night ended, the people left and Seth's employees were walking around cataloging all the paintings with green stickers on the nameplates preparing them for shipping the next day. Jasper's art had sold as well which only could mean exciting thing for him.
"Hey." He said cautiously. "You want to talk about whatever is making you look like someone pissed in your corn flakes?"
"I haven't heard that in a while, Alice always says 'what has you lookin' like someone crapped in your Louis V'. I'm willing to bet the two of you just might be soul mates. Where's the family?" He told me they had left a while ago with Charlie because the babies were knocked out.
Charlie didn't even say good bye. What was with my people, they were acting so strange. Jasper had been looking at me while my mind turned over question after question. Quickly I said the only thing I could think of, hoping he didn't assume I was crazy.
"Your niece and nephew are beautiful."
"Thanks. My sister takes great pride in their beauty, vain as fuck if you ask me. I hope they get Emmett's personality though." I laughed but it was forced. "So, do you want to talk about it?"
"You don't need to do that. Listen, we just met," I pulled my sleeve to glance at my watch, "four hours ago so you really don't need to be interested. Besides, if there's one thing I know, a family like yours sticks together…thanks for trying to keep the heat off me before but it's an unwritten rule that if your sister hates someone, you hate that person too. If I had siblings I'd do the same."
"No, I don't think you would. Rose can be an ice queen, a bitch even…but my sister is loyal to a fault. She's extremely protective of her family and goes into this Rambo, fuck you all mode. "
"She doesn't have to protect her family from me. No offense, but what business of hers what some magazines are saying about me? She doesn't know me… I don't need any more judgment or people taking shit behind my back, I have enough of that and she seems to like my father so maybe she should just mind her own business. Whatever happens in my life had nothing to with her. Why would she care?"
"I'll give you one reason darlin', Carlisle." I froze.
"You k...know him."
Of fuckin' course the beautiful blondes would know each other—what do they travel in packs? Then I remembered the way he had asked if Rose (not Rosalie) put her hands on me. "You guys are related aren't you?"
"Yes, just not in the way you'd think and for the record Bella, Rose's hair color comes from her hair dresser, her hair is light brown not golden. And we don't travel in packs." I blushed hard and he just chuckled.
"That's why you're upset, Carlisle. I was hoping you two would get this resolved tonight. I'm sick of his moping around. Guy's been a pain in my ass all week."
"Well, you seem informed." I muttered, watching Seth dictate to the cater waiters how to put the cheese away. Separate bags for each type of cheese, each block having to be cubed precisely so. Talk about micro-managing.
"We talk Bella, he cares about you and that's uncharted waters for him. It's not something he lets himself feel towards the gentler sex."
"So what, he's the fuck 'em and leave 'em type…I didn't peg him as that sort of man?" He whispered something that sounded like Alice is rubbing off on you, but he spoke so quickly I couldn't be sure.
"No, Bella, he's most certainly not that guy. When he loves, he loves with everything he has. That's why this is hard for him. "
"I'm confused." It seemed that Seth had taken a break from barking orders and was eye fucking Jasper much like he had been eye fucking Carlisle earlier. I wondered if either of these men knew that Seth was drooling over them both, picturing countless scenarios in which all three of them were deeply involved in gay orgy. Seth caught my eye and winked like the devil himself licking his lips.
I glared back. The bitch better back off of Carlisle or so help me. I was not above a little rough housing, Charlie taught me well.
"I know darlin' but it ain't my story to tell." Jasper looked over my shoulder with glazed and distant eyes and added, "Seems like I'm keeping tons of secrets these days."
"I won't make you keep any of mine Jasper."
He smiled softy and thanked me for that.
xXXx
I managed to get out before Seth or Demetri got a chance to corner and interrogate me; there was plenty of time for that later. I got a cab home, which I despised, but I didn't have much of a choice.
I barked out my address to the poor man. I apologized and he smiled assuring me nights like these happened to everyone and then quietly drove me home. I was upset over the fact that Alice had basically left me stranded without an explanation. What was wrong with her? This wasn't the girl I knew and loved, the girl I did shots with and told all my secrets. Where was Pixie? I sent her a text but it went unanswered.
At first I worried, (Alice never lets my text messages go unanswered) but then I realized she was more than likely busy with her new friend and my concern evaporated.
It was a little after three in the morning when I got home, my feet hurt and I just wanted to close my eyes. Maybe I'd have a little wine, relive what it felt like to be so close to Carlisle and then crash. The building was quite and in the elevator the prospects of another long and sad weekend stood before me.
Maybe I'd visit Charlie, keep him company, make him some more ice cream—lavender honey with hazel nuts, he'll love that. My stomach growled at me and I realized that other than the champagne I hadn't eaten anything since noon. The elevator dinged and it grumbled again, loudly.
One of these days you're gonna pass out and then they'll say you're anorexic.
"Either that or pregnant, Bella."
Fuck, my inner monologue was failing me tonight. I looked around wondering if Felix had come back from Morocco already. But it wasn't Felix. Sitting on the floor with papers in his lap, those sexy black frames and a red pen was Carlisle.
I must have looked perplexed because he rushed to explain.
"Haven't you even seen those Spanish novellas? Every time a woman loses consciousness in one of those it's because she's pregnant, they never stop to consider any other possibility. I've never understood that, I mean passing out isn't exactly a symptom of pregnancy. Once when my television got stuck on SAP and I couldn't change it. For a month, the only television I saw was in Spanish. Sorry, I'm rambling."
His nervous rambling was adorable, but I was still confused as to why he was here rambling in the first place, so I asked. "I told you I couldn't wait till Monday, Isabella. We need to have this conversation."
"It's three in morning, how long have you been sitting here?" I hadn't seen him after we talked on the stairs; I hoped he hadn't been here all this time. One look at his sheepish grin told me he had been here for quite some time. His ass had to be numb, I frowned. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long."
"It's was nothing really. I had some rather interesting reading material to help the time pass, but my ass is a bit sore."
I nodded. Thinking about his ass was diverting, especially when all I ways I could stimulate him came to mind. Absentmindedly I opened my door and switching on the lights and waited for him to walk inside before locking the door. I thanked God that I had cleaned this afternoon because while the last time he hadn't explored anything other than my body, this time sex wasn't our main goal.
Nothing could have prepared me for how easily he fit here, how simple it was to let someone other than Alice into my apartment. Standing by the shelves Carlisle politely took in random things, books and my little jade elephants, smirking when he came across a picture of me as a baby in my grand-père's arms surrounded by baby ducks. I blushed at his questioning expression. Desperate to get him away from that picture I asked if he was hungry, but he shrugged me off.
"Where's your kitchen Bella, I don't see it?" Carlisle asked after looking around.
"This place has tons of surprises. You didn't do much looking around last time you were here did you." He shook his head no, saying that it felt intrusive without my being there. After draping his jacket over the arm of my favorite chair and placing his papers on the side table, he came to stand beside me, curious as to what secrets were hiding in plain sight. I tried not to think about how his things looked in my space affected me—if I didn't know any better I would have thought he was coming home to me after a long a day at work. "Come with me."
"I'd love to." He arched his eyebrows suggestively. I blushed realizing how my words came out. Jesus, stop with the blushing already.
"You know what I meant Carlisle. You mind if I eat while you talk."
"Not at all, lead the way."
I couldn't help the smile that crept over my face when I threw open the double doors dividing my apartment and successfully hiding my kitchen and Studio—this was my creative sanctuary. It was large and bare with concrete floors and deep blue walls, canvases stacked up near the windows. Every art supply an artist could ever want was in this room. And the kitchen, well, the kitchen was a thing of beauty. Rough and raw like the country kitchen in Aix, only this one had everything my heart desired— commercial mixer, ice cream maker, brass espresso machine, double ovens, and one of those refrigerators with a glass door. It was heaven.
Without checking if he followed, I went over to the fridge and inspected the shelves. I decided to have a little sugar plum ice cream because, what the hell? It had been an odd day and I deserved something yummy. After severing myself I turned around to find Carlisle sitting at the bar with his eyes glued to my face.
"Are you sure you don't want anything?"
"Thank you for offering but no, I'm not hungry for food."
My body flushed at his naked truth of his words. God, he better explain fast.
After joining him at the bar I just sat there with my eyes trained on the tiny bowl, not eating or even talking because it occurred to me then that all the paintings—you know the Carlisle sex paintings—were in this room. I tried to keep Jasper's reassurance at the forefront of my thoughts but I couldn't help but doubt him. I felt exposed once again, one look at them and he would see everything. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he was a fuck 'em and leave 'em guy?
If he was that guy, wouldn't he be gone and not in your kitchen. He could have anyone he wants yet he's here. Wake up Bella.
"Bella, what's the matter? You're not eating, sweetheart. It's melting…"
What if lying was a reflex? I didn't do liars, at least not anymore. What if he was a pathological liar I couldn't trust? He was a writer for God sakes, he could weave me a story in under five minutes and dazzle me into submission, I could try to resist, but honestly I was already half way there. Almost completely prepared to disregard the lies because of some ridiculous pull I felt for this man.
"Bella. You're scaring me."
"You said we needed to talk…so talk, please. I'll be better—I hope—after I have the full story."
"Of course, Bella, although you might not feel that way once I'm through.
I told you, I didn't plan to lie to you. Honestly when I left here, I thought I'd never see you again, one night and that would be it. I decided that things would be better that way in the long run but I wanted to see you again and that was…new to me. Before we had met I hadn't had sex in years and I haven't been in a relationship in much longer. "
"Why?"
"My life changed at a young age, Bella. I lost everyone I loved and then some…she abandoned me and it broke me so thoroughly to the point where I could barely function. Instead of dealing with it, I threw myself into school to forget, and it worked. After school was no longer my focus I turned to women to forget, which also worked.
"For years I had different women every night, and I'm ashamed to say they were nothing more than meaningless diversions. The pain caught up with me after a particular girl, a one night stand to be completely honest, nothing more than a stranger." He winced but continued, "Something about her actions brought everything back. Everything I had been hiding from came back and I wasn't ready to deal with it. I became depressed, didn't talk to my family but I didn't change my ways, if anything I became even more…. addicted. I sought relief in women much like some seek in it drugs but when they left, the pain would return a thousand times sharper. I was alone, always."
He took a shuttering breath, pausing to gather strength. Urging him to continue I rubbed his tense shoulders—the response was immediate. The tight muscles beneath my finger loosened, surrendering to me. After a few minutes, he thanked me and continued.
"Six years ago, give or take some months, my family intervened. They saved me—it was messy and I won't go into detail but I stopped the mindless fucking, got counseling and healed…for the most part. The one section of my life I've ignored is the one I feel with you, the one I haven't felt in a very long time, Bella. I've been Professor Cullen so to speak; polite yet distant, present and informative like a good instructor but elusive, for a while.
I haven't wanted anything resembling a relationship or any attachments other than family or extremely close friends. I need you to understand that when I saw you in my class all I could think was that I wanted you, all of you, and it fucking terrified me. To go from wanting nothing to wanting everything was a wakeup call I wasn't expecting. You were and still are an attachment, one I couldn't have and would definitely lose, so I lied. I knew it hurt you; I could see that, but that morning I woke up alone and it triggered my impulses to back away. I was angry…but not at you. Can you understand that? "
I nodded sadly, dashing away my tears. The joy of hearing him say that he wanted me was grossly over shadowed by the sorrow in his voice. My heart ached for him; I wanted to absorb his fears, his pain. Take them as my own. I knew what that felt like to be irrevocably changed far too young, I knew what it felt like to be left behind without a word or thought.
Abandonment leaves a scar, it affects whether you realize it or not. My mother abandoned me but who could leave Carlisle? I knew I should have woken him up, maybe if I had we'd be in bed together instead of sitting in the kitchen at three thirty in the morning discussing these things. I reminded him of a tragic loss; made him relive his sorrow.
He reached over to tug my lip from between my teeth before placing a tender kiss on it. I wanted more but he pulled away and continued explaining while his hand played with the one that wasn't caressing his shoulder blades.
"If I pretended nothing happened, convinced myself that I didn't remember then perhaps I could forget this need to be close to you. You were right to have called me a coward, I was and I don't want to be anymore. All I can say is I'm sorry and these past two weeks have been tortuous, to say the least. What you whispered to me has been on a constant loop in my head ever since. You asked me not to hurt you and I did, I have. The last thing I want is for you to feel pain, even less a pain I've caused. If you want nothing to do with me after this, I understand but I need you to do something for me first. Forgive me?"
"Of course I can forgive you, but having nothing to do with you is somewhat out of the question, Carlisle you have to know that."
"This is complicated…if we're not careful things could get disastrous for the both of us but I'm more than willing to do this. You?"
"Yes, but please don't lie to me again. That triggers something in me and I don't like it." The most dazzling smile broke across his face. He agreed ardently, pulling me on to his lap and nuzzling my neck rendering me light headed. He smelled divine; like grass, apples and man.
It was maddeningly exhilarating.
Somehow, I managed to ask him about Jasper and Rose—unable to keep the venom from my voice when I said her name. He apologized for her, insisting that she was harmless; he wouldn't let her hurt me. I felt a stab of guilt at the thought of him putting me before his family, just as I had with Jasper I told him he didn't have to do anything. Carlisle glared at me for a second before informing me that this conversation was moot seeing as she wasn't going to bother me from here on out. Before I could comment, he changed the subject and answered my question. They were his cousins but not by blood—he said no more, leaving the subject closed. I wanted to ask but the pained expression on his face told me now was not the time.
"Bella, there are some things I'm not ready to tell you yet, but I won't lie to you. I promise."
"I understand." There were things I wasn't ready to tell him yet either. Idly I played with the hair at the nape of his neck, reveling in its silky texture. He hummed softly, leaning into my hand.
"That feels good Isabella. I have to ask, my age, does it…bother you?" He asked quietly, as if he was afraid of the answer. I shook my head; it didn't bother me in the slightest. "Good."
He sounded relieved. Silly man.
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Carlisle rubbed my back soothingly; up my spine and back down, finger lingering on each vertebra. It was relaxing and arousing at the same time. The slow burn coursing through my body intensified tenfold with each pass of his hands. I moaned quietly when his lips found the spot behind my ear, licking the skin that tingled and came to life for him. I was convinced that somewhere along the way a traveling gypsy had given Carlisle Cullen a guide to my body, how to play with it, tease, and ignite it with passions I had never known and pleasures I believed to be mythical. There was no other plausible explanation—Traveling Gypsies was my theory and I was sticking to it.
"You didn't eat you ice cream, it's a little pink puddle. I thought you were hungry, sweet girl?"
Not for food, Professor Cullen.
His hands halted and his breath left his mouth in whoosh. Shit.
"Carlisle, will you stay with me?" I asked pulling back to look at his gorgeous face.
"Of course I will, Silly Girl."
A/N: Thoughts? Review please. Next time we're doing something different. It's already written so it won't take long to get it to you. *fingers crossed*
Translations:
C'est assez ! Mon père s'avère justement être un Américain. T a gueule et descendez des escaliers, je serai là bientôt. / That is enough! My father happens to be an American. Shut up and go down stairs, I will be there soon.
Trouduc/asshole (slang)
