nine.
from Edward.
"Hi." One ring, I heard her smile.
"Hey."
"Hey, y'all," she mocked. "Two days in Florida and…"
"It must be the sweet iced tea. I can't stop, it's fucking delicious."
"Yeah?" She teased, I sipped, smacking.
"Oh, yeah." I sank deeper in the worn wicker chair, closing my eyes to see and feel.
"So how is it? Tell me everything. Is the aesthetic similar to Madison?"
"Not exactly, there's some regional differences. But currently I'm all good. Warm breeze, house band on the patio, pineapple on my pizza, a carrot cupcake waiting…with my sleeves rolled up…"
"And what sorority house did you crash?"
"Ha. Don't you wish. No, I'm at Big Lou's Pizzeria. It's across from the courthouse, where I've been pulling fucking permits all day, after walking the periphery of the campus four times to acclimate."
"Aww. Poor professional Edward has to work and can't gape and flirt all day with the Southern honeys."
"Whoa. Listen to you. Feisty tonight."
"Mmmm."
"I also got stung by a bee at the hotel."
"Karma." She cleared her throat, dramatic.
"Thanks, babe. I love you too."
"You do?"
"Shut up."
"Say it again," she whined.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because my waitress is tight, tan and blond and headed this way. They're like genetically engineered mermaids down here. Swear it."
"Oh my god. You're disgusting. And a pig. A disgusting pig. Oink."
"Relax… I tried to call your desk today."
"Today's Wednesday."
"So…"
"So, you left yesterday. Yesterday was Tuesday. Today's Wednesday."
"Bella?" She hummed through the Jeopardy theme. "Oh. Is that why I got stung by a bee?"
"Could be."
"You're so weird… and challenging. And weird."
"I was at your desk."
"What?"
"When you called today. I heard Angela page me. But I was working in Auto-Cad and…"
"Is your program not working? You should call IT."
"It's working fine. I needed to borrow your super fancy Rotring 800."
"What does that have to do with using my computer and Auto-Cad?"
"Nothing."
"You have a Rotring 800 too, you know. I bought you one for graduation."
"Maybe I just wanted to use yours… at your desk."
"You miss me. Don't you?"
"No."
"Liar."
"Yes. A little. A lot. A bunch."
"I knew it," I whispered, snapping and smirking. "I miss you too."
"I painted."
"Oh, Christ."
"Peter met me at this salvage yard during lunch. I found a door."
"Oh really. Peter did, did he?"
"Yes. He. Did. He's a good neighbor like that. Humph… anyway, wait. I know you're rolling your eyes right now. And I don't even care. Because I love this fucking door. And now it's painted but I need you to help me hang it… I mean I could do it, but the scale is off and…"
"Peter could do it."
"You're jealous."
"Damn fucking right, I'm jealous. Fuck this going to salvage yards with strange, elfin men while I'm across the country."
"You're not across the country. You're down south. And he's not elfin. He's just small boned. He has a small frame. Or something… I don't know, be nice. Tonight it might be a spider bite, jerk."
"You still need me though, don't you?"
"Whatever. And you don't like old stuff anyway."
"That's true. What color did you paint it?" I held my breath, wincing.
"Yam-ish. Like yam-esque. It looks like a yam shade. The shade of a yam." Fuck. "Are you cringing. I know you're cringing. Fuck you. You'll like it and you'll hang it and you'll smile. Okay?"
"Yep. But have you ever eaten a yam? Seriously."
"I'm nervous."
"Why? What's wrong?" I tensed, shifting as college cover tunes swelled to my left.
"The Sam Uley meeting tomorrow. You've never not been there." Baby…
"Let's talk through it. Do you have the updates? Plans?"
"Yes. I'm covered in a blanket of them… I'm just ready to tear it all up and go again. I don't think the template is simple enough."
"It is. It's clean. Trust me. You did a timeless design."
"It's a fucking museum. It's not my place to over do. Honestly, I think I was irresponsible in the materials and…"
"Bella, stop. What's wrong with you? Why are you so insecure?" Silence, we waited through a painful pause. "Do I make you insecure?" She breathed, sighed. I want to hold you so fucking bad. "So maybe it's good that I'm away. That I'll be away for a while next time. Hmmm? Maybe I'm hand holding too much." I rolled my neck, running a rough hand through my hair, aggravated with it all. "It's a hard fought balance here, baby. I'm going to be honest."
"I don't want this to be hard."
"I don't mean it like that. But there's a lot to consider now."
"What? What do you mean?" Her anxiety was palpable.
"When I brought you in to Garret Paul… I knew our project collaboration would be easy. The Quileute job has unfolded so organically and smooth, Bella. We see things through the same vision, we really do. But I don't need to be dominating your professional possibilities. There's things only experience can teach. You know that. You should work with different project managers in these first years. While I'm gone you can build a base. Be wiser and more confident in your own designs."
"Are you breaking up with me?" Godammit no. You are so fucking frustrating sometimes. "I'm kidding. I hear you. I know. I know…"
"And I didn't call before now because you ignored me on Monday in the office and I could tell you needed some space… Have you talked to Brett?"
"No."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm down to only texting four times a day though, so that's progress in letting go."
"Oh fuck. Come on. He's a big boy. He'll get over it. You don't need to let go of anything. I'm not going anywhere, Bella."
"I don't want you to. But I miss you. And this is crazy."
"What's crazy? Talk to me."
"How I feel. What's between us. The years. The stuff… Now the sex. Work. The office. Just everything. I fucking can't sleep anymore when you're not here. And that's just gross and ridiculous and I hate it and love it." I laughed, smug and grateful and exhausted.
"You know what I love?"
"Is it dirty? Tell me something dirty…"
"I love that you refer to a pen by its full commercial name. The Rotring 800."
"Yeah? Does that turn you on? Like architect porn."
"Completely."
"Come home."
"Soon."
~oo~S~oo~
Avoiding my stare, flustered, she shifted to take an active part. I fell back to ease the intensity. Days apart, the immediate future and its truth lingered. I leaned back and away at my desk while she engaged Mr. Paul with her final drawings over the drafting table. The design huddle grew louder, impressed with our progress. She took the accolades, I took the familiar nods of approval. My office cleared, the door falling closed, she stilled. "Hi, you." Shy, soft and still unsure, she twisted the loop between her fingers, spinning to drop it over the table. "I wanted to pick you up at O'Hare. But then I started reviewing these and …" I stalked closer, she spun towards the table, focused on the window above. "I've got to get back to..." I moved behind. "Back to my... office. My office..." Her fingers splayed over piles of blueprints. I pressed closer, gently melting, her head reactively tipped back against my shoulder. She released a grateful giggle, sighing deep. "What are we doing? What do you want?"
Breathing deep, courageous and honest, I centered. "I want to kiss you, suck you, taste and tease you until you're begging me to fuck you." I dusted her thick waves over her shoulder, wrapping a strong arm around her middle. "I want to push into you slow at first… just... the tip." A faint gasp morphed to a moan. "And when I'm finally buried deep inside you I'll move so slow … so fucking slow that we can hardly bear it." Her nails dug at my thighs, bracing behind and finally, she exhaled a ragged breath. "I want to fuck you hard and fast, on the bed, against the wall … I want to make you scream... I want you Bella, I want it all… and I'm so goddamn tired of fighting about how we're going to do this."
"Are you being serious right now? Because I can't fucking feel my legs and…" She spun, wide eyed, trembling. Our smirks spread, I winked.
Her leather bag fell barely inside the door, she rushed ahead. I locked and followed a trail, cabled cashmere, dark patented belt. She braced against the spindle slipping her second tall, leather boot off and away.
I pressed close behind, pushing hair forward to savor her bare neck. Brushing my late day, long traveled stubble over her sensitive skin, she shivered. I slid the zipper down the back of her silk dress, tracing my fingers up. A pinch, unclasp, further up to push her black lace bra from creamy shoulders.
Lips found my neck, I held her tighter to me. I slipped into the satin at her hips, sliding through her soft curls. She moaned into my throat, melting, moving, as I teased her clit. She licked, nipped and whispered her want. "What you said in the office…"
I smoothed up, gliding over her torso, her breasts. Thumbing over peaked nipples, I squeezed gentle. "You want that? Hmmm?"
"Yes… yes… More…" She breathed, blowing deep to steady.
"Don't move."
I quickly undressed, shirt, dress pants, boxers, admiring her soft curves, shoulders to hips to ass. Forward and towards, one hand firm at her hip, the other pushed her panties down. Parted lips dusted across and down her back.
"Just like this… I want to feel you from behind, baby."
"Oh, fuck," she whimpered, pressing back, my hard cock trapped between us as she lowered to the bed. I teased her pussy, sliding between her warm, smooth thighs. She fisted the duvet, peeking back and over. Our gaze never parted as I stroked forward, she spread wider. "Mmmm, Edward…"
Deep, deeper, I fucked her from behind. Fingers gripped, dug as I thrust to set a steady rhythm. "Fuck, that's good." Her hand lingered between her thighs to push herself higher. "That's it…"
I felt the tightening, the sensation forcing too soon. Her moaning edged the quiet, still evening, she pulsed, driving my orgasm too. We collapsed, wrapped, burning, sweet and heady. Falling beside, I tugged and rolled her in tight.
Her tender mouth, breath and lips brought me present, absolute and spent. "Never, ever, ever…"
"Never what?" I dragged us up, nestling over the tucked, still made bed.
"That… good." She blinked, love drunk, heavy eyes. "Fuck."
"You've got a dirty mouth." I pinched her swollen lips together. She wrinkled her nose, wiggling free.
"Me? Really?" A cocked brow, I lifted her above me. Her slight weight and warmth, revved and stirred my soul again. "Do you talk like that to all your ladies?"
"I've only got one."
"Now."
"Don't start the smack talking." I squeezed, trapping, she wrestled.
"Brett alluded to lots." Jesus. Here we go. "I mean, I have a right to know, don't I?"
"What do you want to know? I'm thirty two years old. I've dated my fair share of women in college, in grad school, in Madison, in Chicago."
"How many times have you been in love? Like truly, awed and fucked over in love."
"Once."
"Bullshit. I bet at least five. Jennifer was the last?" She nodded, I sighed. You're impossible.
"I wasn't in love with her," I mumbled, admitting a pathetic truth, shaking my head. "I wasn't." Bella gasped, righting, straddling.
"You almost married her, Edward."
"No, I didn't. Brett wanted me to. He wanted me to marry her and buy the house next to them and drink beer in the garage and go to Badger games every Saturday. I was in love with someone else." My hands found her thighs, I smoothed up, gripping tighter as I went.
"Who?" She nibbled her lip, a smile teasing. I sat to meet. Strong hands held her face near, barely a breath between.
"You know who." Lips brushed. "You know exactly who I couldn't take my fucking eyes off. You know who I'd talk to late at night, guiding through all her fucking melodramatic milestones. You know who…"
"You've loved me a long time…" She whispered, light with a kiss. "And now you're leaving me." Christ, woman. I knocked my forehead against hers, tossing her over, playful. I hovered, a conscious effort to control. The moment slowed. She traced my brows, down my nose, my cheekbones, I pressed my lips along her wrist. "Remember that girl you brought to my dorm room?"
"Rosalie?" I asked, but knew. She pointed, eyes rolling. "I also brought your favorite spicy cheeto… frito things too, don't forget. Didn't I bring you a whole bag of groceries?"
"Yes. That was her. With the huge, amazing tits. Oh my god."
"Not as good as yours…" I leaned, tasting, swirling, hoping to divert and go again.
"Wait, wait…" She giggled, twisting. "Remember, I kept calling her Rose Lee instead. And she was so irritated."
"Why are you bringing her up? Your mind is everywhere, all the time."
"I don't know. Maybe it's a curse for knowing you too long, through it all."
"I've had to endure all your fine choices too. Knowing you could do better."
"Better? Like you?" I nodded, grinding to remind. "Mmmm," she whimpered, tilting to offer. "The best for last."
"Is it?"
"I want it to be. So much…"
"Baby." Wild, pure emotion surged. I held, soaking in her tired, honest smile. Suddenly, her hand smacked my bare ass. "That was the day you defaced my fake ID. You creep. I was so pissed and embarrassed." I fell next to her laughing. "Fucking asshole." She shoved, I caught angry hands, sucking fingertips. "You drew a goddamn mustache on my fake ID face. Who does that?"
"Me."
"You." A narrowed eye, a firm pump and stroke below, we tested and touched.
"You want more. You ready?"
"Slower this time."
"Yeah…"
~oo~S~oo~
That hateful tone and menace vibrated too far from the floor. Bella stayed tucked warm and drooling in the bend of my elbow. I shifted, reaching and feeling through my slacks pocket. "Yeah. Hello?"
"It's Brett. I can't find her. She's there?" What the hell… what time is it?
"She's here. What's wrong?"
"There was an accident." His tone was calm, confusing. I rubbed furiously over tired eyes, anxious to focus. My heart raced, vulnerable in the early morning hour.
"Shit. Who? What happened?" I forced through the sleepy fog. Bella sighed, sleepy and twisting. I held her closer, warm... in my arms, my heart.
"Dad. He fell from a ten foot ladder at work. We're at St. Mary's still stuck in emergency."
"Is he conscious? What're they saying? Jesus, Brett."
"They did a scan. They want to observe. He's conscious, bitching about going home."
"Is everyone there?"
"Bethie's home. She was feeling nauseous. Now I'm worried about that too. But Emmett and Ben are here."
"I'll wake Bella up and we'll start out." He sighed, I sensed his tensing.
"Just wait. Don't wake her. She's going to freak out and be spastic and Dad needs to rest and be quiet."
"She will freak out, you're right about that. Listen, Brett…" Distance and fear offered immediate perspective.
"Don't, man."
"Brett, this is happening."
"Obviously."
"You don't give her enough credit. She's so much more than you realize."
"Will you fucking stop. I practically raised my sister. Don't tell me how and who she is. Dammit. Just… I mean, is this something I need to worry about? If you fucking hurt her, so help me…"
"I'm not going to hurt her. Ever. You know I wouldn't. It's… it's not perfect. She's in a very insecure space right now."
"That's because of Mom. That'll never change."
"Maybe. And I get that. I do. And I'll be traveling a lot this year. But she's wiser and more capable that you've seen lately. I know she needs to grow…"
"Fucking exactly. So why are you filling her head and tying her down now?"
"We're letting it unfold, Brett. I'm not forcing her into anything. I wouldn't. I want this to be authentic. Trust me."
"I want to, man. I really want to believe this. To fucking trust you."
"Give us a chance. She needs us both. And I don't need your pansy ass fist near my jaw anymore."
"Shit. You deserved that. How is that smug mug of yours anyway? Did I leave a reminder?"
"Naw. My mug is still better looking than yours and that's what really bothers you at the end of the day."
"Whatever. I'll call you two loser lovers back. Emmett wants B here. But just wait."
"Let us know. I'll bring her. I'll do anything you guys need." I tossed the phone, let the words settle. Gathering her tighter, I kissed her forehead, leaving the peace before her panic.
a/n
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