Chapter 9: Oh! Ohhhhh!
Warning: Sour lemons ahead – sorry to do this, but I feel it was necessary to go back a bit to give you a better idea of where Bella is coming from and why she's been fighting her attraction to Edward so much.
Five Years Ago
My heart raced as Mike's hands roamed under my shirt. I thought that perhaps I should unclasp my bra to give him better access, but I wasn't sure I wanted to be that encouraging. His fingers curled under the fabric cups and were flicking my nipples furiously. It kind of hurt. Figuring that if he was able to touch me without the obstruction I might get a gentler caress, I broke away from his sloppy kisses to take off my shirt and shyly removed by bra.
Mike took less than a half second to look at my bare torso and pushed me back onto his bed. The full-hand squeezing was slightly less unpleasant than the tweaking. I knew I should be enjoying this, so I tried to just relax and go with the flow.
Mike and I had been boyfriend and girlfriend for a while. Though I was still a virgin, I knew there was a certain expectation of a waiting period before things got physical. It didn't take a genius of observation to notice Mike was getting impatient.
"You know, graduation's not too far away Bella. We should be taking advantage of the time we've got."
"You're so hot; I think I may combust one of these days."
"Seriously, Bella, I guy can only take so much teasing."
I wasn't a prude or a hopeless romantic. It wasn't like I expected to wait for my wedding night, or even to lose my virginity to my one true love after a perfect, romantic evening. In some ways, I was just ready to get it over with.
So, after several months of dating and some pretty serious making out, I agreed to come over to Mike's house when his parents were away for the weekend. Deep down I knew exactly what I was saying yes to, but part of me hoped that he wasn't just expecting me to walk through the door and get into bed with him.
Clearly, I was wrong.
After insisting that we watch Die Hard for the third time in his family room, Mike had me pinned beneath him before the first hostage was killed. I went through the motions of kissing him while our hands wandered around each other's bodies, but my mind was only half in the present. I could see the bulge in his pants and knew when he started moving against me that he was trying to accomplish something with the friction, though I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be getting anything out of it.
Mostly, I felt detached as I often did when Mike and I were making out. In my head I saw a giant chalkboard with a line down the middle. On the left side, all the reasons for having sex that night were laid out in clear lines. On the right, was a single question: Is this how I'm supposed to feel?
"Are you getting wet, Bella?" Mike asked, giving me a brief moment of escape from his overly sloppy kisses. I could actually feel a thin line of drool rolling down my face and into the crook of my neck. I desperately wanted to wipe it away, but my arms were partially pinned by Mike's embrace.
"Umm... a little, I think," I replied. I wasn't even sure I understood the question, but my neck was wet, so it seemed an honest answer.
Mike looked triumphant. "I knew you wanted this as much as I did. You were just trying to hold out so I wouldn't think you were a slut, right?"
"What?" I asked, I tried to sit up, but Mike was too heavy.
"Don't worry, Bella," he said, a little apologetically. "I won't think any less of you. You're really special. I wanted this to be perfect for both of us."
I looked around the basement. I wasn't sure what exactly was supposed to be perfect about it. We hadn't even ordered pizza before starting the movie. The 1980's action flick was a classic, sure, but I can't say hostage taking and buildings getting blown up were romantic or a turn-on.
But, Mike was a really nice guy. He had been friendly to me even when most of the school thought I was just a loser bookworm. Since we had gone our first date, he had never been anything but kind.
It wasn't as if I didn't have my own raging hormones. I had slipped my hand between my legs late at night after reading some especially romantic books. It would still be years before I achieved the big O (thanks to Alice's introduction to the wonderful world of battery-operated aides), but I could create something close with my fingers and my imagination.
Shouldn't I want to do this with Mike? Was I just afraid of living my life, rather than imagining it?
I started kissing him back more fervently and Mike reached between us to unbutton and unzip my jeans. Before I knew it, Hans Gruber was making his first phony terrorist demand and Mike had taken off both of our underwear. We were done before LAPD swarmed the building.
So, I lost my virginity on Mike's basement couch to the sound of Bruce Willis antagonizing Alan Rickman. Yippee-ki-yay, indeed.
I had expected the first time to be less than amazing, but not borderline painful, as it was. I didn't admit that to Mike. I told him it was good, because what else do you tell your boyfriend after handing him your V-card? I hoped that as we learned we'd both enjoy it more, but I always felt more like I was getting a rope burn on the inside of my body than anything tingly and wonderful.
We had sex perhaps a half-dozen more times and it was always the same. Once, when I had tried to reach down and touch myself to help things along, Mike had grabbed my wrist and then held both of my hands above my head. "Let me do all the work, Bella," he said. "It's better this way."
I didn't think to disagree.
Things ran their natural course, and between my refusing to give up my weekend travels with Charlie, along with Mike's commitment to his part-time job and the school basketball team, we really didn't even spend much time together. Eventually we just admitted things weren't working out. He took Jessica Stanley to Senior Prom, and I spent the evening reading Wuthering Heights for the tenth time.
I was pretty sure I had a better night than Jessica.
But throughout college and since, I thought about those times with Mike and realized there must be something wrong with me. Alice and other girls would talk about the orgasms their boyfriends gave them, and I'd just listen, saying nothing.
Mike's words during the last few times we'd have sex would come back to me.
"Why are you so quiet when we're doing it, Bella? It would turn me on more if you'd tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"Why do you keep trying to touch yourself? Aren't I enough for you?"
"Thanks for the blow job. You know that only lesbians like oral sex, right?"
I knew I wasn't a lesbian, but maybe there was something wrong with me if I couldn't get off from missionary style penetration. Maybe my lady bits were wired wrong - like I was set to a different sexual frequency. Maybe I was bound to disappoint any man I slept with because I didn't feel anything great from a penis.
Back to the Present
I couldn't breathe. It felt like all the air in the room had become solid. Edward's last words entered my brain slowly. "If you want me, too, please tell me now."
Of course I wanted him. I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anyone. Hell, I'd even give up my entire drawer of shame just to feel his body on top of me one time. The electric shocks that resonated through me from just the brush of his hand on mine were almost better than anything I'd ever felt before.
Almost.
But, surely he already knew that. Why did he want me to say it?
"You want me to tell you that I want you?" I asked, the emphasis on the word want giving the question a more explicitly sexual tone than it had sounded coming out of Edward's mouth.
"No!" Edward said, looking shocked and backing away from me slightly. Then his expression became conflicted, as if he had said one thing but didn't truly mean it. He sighed and took a step back towards me.
"Yes," Edward's voice was a low growl and it made me tremble from the pit of my stomach, as my toes curled in my sneakers. "I want to know if you want me, because I want you. You have no idea how much," he continued. "You have no idea what the sight of you, or the sound of your voice does to me."
I couldn't believe this. The walls of the Volturi were spinning.
"Breathe, Bella," Edward whispered gently. I took in a ragged gasp of air and blinked. The walls became stationary again. Edward continued, "Now, please, tell me the truth, do you want me, too?"
"I," I stammered. "I, I, of course I want you, Edward. Look at you." Surely he understood how totally out of my league he was. There was the obvious, and then there were the things he couldn't see. He didn't realize he was asking for the impossible. "But, I don't want to disappoint you," I said.
"Why in the world would you think you'd disappoint me," Edward asked. He took another step but refrained from touching me. We were so close my breasts almost grazed his chest as I inhaled.
"I just, I'm not really..." I stammered. I had never had to put my problem into words. It was beyond embarrassing, and the last person I wanted to admit this to was Edward. How could I tell him without telling him? "Let's just say I wasn't the typical college student."
"What are you talking about Bella?" He looked completely bewildered. I guess I was being pretty obtuse.
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. He was going to make me say it. I knew that intellectually, it would be better to just admit my shortcoming. I shook my head at the unfortunate pun before snapping back to reality.
"I just, I'm not that experienced, Edward, and I'm afraid if we" I paused, at a loss for the words that would actually make it past my mouth "...you know, did something that friends don't do, that you might not want me anymore."
"That's the most insane thing I think I've ever heard." Edward raised his hand and let his fingertips gently trace my cheek. His rough fingers left a trail of tingles down the side of my face. "Trust me," he said, "I'm sure I could never get enough of you."
I closed my eyes rather than look at the desire on his face. Even though he hadn't kissed me yet, it was going to hurt losing him. But, I knew it was inevitable; I could never be enough for him. I should just admit my past to him and hope that we could remain friends. "Well, it just wasn't like that before," I managed to get out. My heart was hammering and I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes.
"Before what?" he asked, sounding sincerely confused.
"Before, you know, in my past," I mumbled, eyes still closed.
"Are you saying you're not very experienced?" Edward asked. "I had kind of assumed that, Bella. That's why I've been trying to not push you too much. You must have realized I was attracted to you that first morning, but you were so shy about it. I've been trying to give you the space I thought you needed."
"You're attracted to me?" I was so dumbfounded by his statement that my eyes popped open and I was caught in his smoldering gaze. The words didn't make sense in that order. It was like trying to translate from a different language by reading backwards in a mirror.
Edward nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Ummm… no," I said honestly. Obvious was definitely not the word I would use to describe anything about Edward or what he may or may not have been thinking about me.
A crooked grin spread slowly over Edward's face. "So, are you saying I haven't been obvious enough? I can make it clearer to you if you like." His head started to dip down, his lips within an inch of mine.
"You don't want to do that," I practically screamed at him.
"I'm pretty sure I do, actually," Edward replied, his tone still completely calm and husky. "What makes you think I wouldn't want to kiss you?"
Say it, out loud, I chided myself. "I can't have orgasms when I have sex." I screwed my face up, as the words flew out, keeping my eyes shut tight.
"What?"
My eyes popped open. Edward's face was the epitome of shock. The pale even reached his lips and his eyes were practically black, his pupils were so large.
I took the opportunity to sidestep and he allowed me to push my way out of his arms and into the center of the kitchen. I needed some physical space between us, even though this hurt so much to say I just wanted to crumble against his chest.
"My ex-boyfriend, Mike, he'd get so frustrated with me. It's not like we had a long relationship and we were doing it all the time, but I think the fact that I couldn't ... you know. It made him give up on me."
The color came back into Edward's face and his eyes narrowed. He looked angry. Was he going to blame me for wasting his time, for not telling him I was a sexually, deficient ice queen earlier? I had tried to let him know we wouldn't ever date, but I had used the Volturi as an excuse.
"Your boyfriend broke up with you because he couldn't make you come?" Edward asked, his voice tense.
"No," I said, horrified that I'd given Edward the wrong idea. "It wasn't him."
"Who told you it was you?" Edward was shaking his head at me in disbelief. He thought I was being naive; he didn't understand.
"I just..." I couldn't think of what to say. I'd never admitted even to Alice the things Mike had said to me before we broke up.
"Bella..." Edward looked like he was trying very hard to keep some strong emotion in check. His fists were clenched and the muscles in his jaw were flexing. It was a bit mesmerizing, but more frightening. Was he angry? Was his anger directed at me? I felt like I should be scared, but I was only afraid he might walk away before he told me what he was thinking.
Finally, he took a deep breath and closed the distance between us once again. "First of all," he said, "as much as I want you, I was not going to push you for sex until you were ready. And, if your only experience was with some selfish prick that made you feel inadequate because he couldn't take care of you, I realize that might take a while."
"You don't understand," I said. "You make it sound like it was Mike's fault, and it wasn't."
"Really," Edward said, holding me in a penetrating gaze. He let the silence build for a moment and stretched around me to lean against the counter. His arms formed a cage, but there still wasn't any physical contact between us. It was his eyes that held me in place more than anything else. I couldn't tear myself away from their intensity.
He went on. "Tell me the truth, Bella. You just said you can't have orgasms when you have sex. It's an interesting way to put it. Am I right to say that you have had an orgasm in another way?"
I wished the building would actually collapse and crush me. This was all too embarrassing. Sure, Alice and I talked about this kind of thing, but I couldn't understand how Edward and I had gotten into this conversation. I broke eye contact with Edward, and nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor.
"And were you thinking about Mike when this happened?" Edward's voice was soothing, but I could hear the undercurrent of stress. He was trying to make me see something, but I could tell he didn't like saying Mike's name. I didn't particularly like hearing it, either.
"No, it didn't really work when I tried thinking about Mike." I hadn't ever put that fact together before. It wasn't just when we were in bed together that Mike let me down. I'd always have to let my mind wander to mysterious strangers, or even incomplete, faceless men as I pleasured myself.
"What do you think about, Bella?" he asked, his voice husky. "I want you to tell me what goes through your mind when you touch yourself, what is it that makes you feel really good?"
"We shouldn't be talking about this." I protested; finally breaking out of his spell just enough to look away from his eyes. I turned my head and searched the room for some distraction, something that would change the subject. "This is wrong. Please, forget I said anything."
"I'm not going to forget, and I don't think there's anything wrong." Edward still made no move to touch me with any part of his body, but I could feel his breath on my exposed neck as he spoke. "We're two adults. I happen to be very attracted to you. You seem to think there's something wrong with that or there is something wrong with you. And I want to get to the bottom of it. So tell me..."
"Tell you what?" I squeaked. I literally sounded like a mouse caught in a trap.
"Tell me what you think about, what you picture when you pleasure yourself." Edward's voice was the deep growl of a Catamount. He was just as dangerous as the mountain lion, and I had nowhere to run from him.
I still couldn't bring myself to raise my eyes, but I could see Edward's beautiful face and amazing body, just like I saw it every time I reached down to soothe the ache between my legs.
"Is it a man?" Edward prompted.
"No," I whispered, and then finally looked up realizing how that must have sounded. Edward's eyes were shocked, and perhaps even hurt. "I mean," God, what did I mean? Could I possibly say this? "I mean, it's not just any man."
Edward looked relieved, but still a bit hesitant. "Not just any man..." he urged me to continue.
I closed my eyes, unable to say the words while looking at Edward. "Before, it was more about the sensations; I imagined a man, but no one specific. But, that changed."
"What part?" he asked.
I took a few breaths, noticing how raggedly the air was entering my lungs. "The part that makes me feel good." I squeezed my eyes tight like when I was a little girl trying to wish away the monsters in my closet. I wished for some magic that would make me disappear now before I admitted my most embarrassing secret to the person I least wanted to hear it. Without knowing where the courage came from, I gathered myself together and breathed. "It really only works now if I'm thinking about you."
There, I'd admitted it. Now he probably thought I was either some pervert or a completely love-sick kid. But, at least I hadn't lied. Now Edward would go running for the hills and I'd make do on my own as I always had. I doubted we could even be friends after this. It wasn't just sex that ruined friendships between men and women; it was the thought of sex.
"Bella," Edward said. "Open your eyes and look at me."
I did what he asked. His face was almost too much to bear. His eyes were a mixture of concern and desire. He licked his lips before speaking again and I so wanted to crush his mouth with mine. It didn't matter if it did end up as a disappointment. I wanted to feel what I could with him, even if I let him down, I knew whatever he could give me would be more than I deserved.
"Bella," Edward said. "First, you need to know that you just made me extremely happy. The thought of you pleasuring yourself is extremely erotic to me on its own. The idea that you'd be thinking of me, well... I can't tell you what that does to me. I've fantasized about you as well. There's no shame in pleasure, even if you get it from yourself. But, I think you're giving up a little too easy if you let one guy tell you there's something wrong with you because he didn't do it for you."
"I told you, it wasn't his fault," I hated that he wasn't able to understand what I was trying to tell him. I wasn't the type of person to speak badly about an ex, and I definitely hadn't shared my experience with Mike to place blame anywhere but on myself.
"I heard what you said," Edward cut me off before I could go on. "I'm not going to make you talk more about this, because I can tell you don't want to. I just want you to know that there are many different types of men out there, Bella. I hope you won't give up on me because of what one guy said to you."
I couldn't think of anything that I hadn't already said, or any better way to put it. Maybe I should just stop talking and Edward would decide later, after giving it more thought, that I wasn't worth it. I had to prepare myself for that reality, to not allow that creeping hope that there might be more between us to enter my heart.
"Bella," Edward said. My pulse quickened a little more each time he said my name. "I'm going to ask you one more question and then you're going to let me take you to the River Tavern for dinner."
I nodded.
Edward continued the preface to his question, "I'm not going to ever bring up Mike again, because honestly I don't think he's worth either of our thoughts for another second. But, I do want to ask you how you felt when he kissed you."
I wasn't sure how to answer. I thought of that scene in Princess Diaries when Anne Hathaway's character goes on about hoping her foot pops when she's kissed. Don't all girls get these ridiculous expectations about fireworks and orchestras going off when her lips meet someone else's? That was all just fantasy.
"Good, I guess." I answered.
"You guess?" Edward pushed.
"Yeah," I said. "It was good when we kissed."
"Here goes nothing, then," Edward said. With those words, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me toward him. I had half a moment to gasp with surprise before his lips met mine. I forgot to close my eyes at first, and could see that his were squeezed shut. His arms were tight, but his lips were soft and so inviting. I felt as if every muscle in my body turned to mush. My hands pressed against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat.
I opened my mouth slightly and his lips became harder. His tongue skirted across my teeth. A moan started in the back of my throat, which seemed to make him even hungrier for me. His hand reached up into my hair and pulled gently as our lips began to move in unison.
Finally, I allowed my eyes to close and just lose myself in the feeling of Edward's lips on mine. The tingles started where our mouths were in contact, but radiated all over. I think the hairs on my arms literally stood up as gooseflesh blossomed.
My legs started to give out beneath me, and it was only Edward's hold that kept me upright. He tilted me back a bit, still kissing me, and I let myself completely surrender to him. Edward was the only thing in the universe, this moment, the only moment that had, or ever would matter.
Before I could even begin to unscramble my thoughts enough to fully realize what was happening, he straightened us both up and broke apart from me. I reflexively leaned forward to follow his mouth before realizing how pathetic I must look.
Edward's eyes were boring into mine. His breaths were quick and shallow. I could see the question in his eyes, but we both knew there was no reason for him to ask it.
There was no guessing necessary, and the word "good" came nowhere near to describing that kiss.
Thoughts?
