Stephenie Meyer owns all TWILIGHT characters.


The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25[dot]com

Prompt: 9 - friction
Pen name: IngenueFic
Characters: Bella, Edward
Rating: PG-13

All prompts can be found here:
www[dot]thetwilight25[dot]com/round-five/prompts/


When the caller ID on her phone shows her massage place, Bella sends it to voicemail. They always call the day before her appointment with a reminder and she's in the middle of reading a fantastic novel. Three hours later, she shuts the book and sighs happily before leaning over and clicking off her lamp. The next morning, she runs through her normal routine – quick jog in the neighborhood, breakfast of fruit and low-fat cottage cheese, hot shower, and dress for work.

The day is busy but good. There are contracts to sign, phone calls to make, and fights to be had – especially a somewhat loud and terrible one with Irina who used to be her boss until Kate took Bella onto her team. It was a disconcerting time but she's glad she ended up with Kate.

By the time 5:00 rolls around, all Bella wants is a juicy burger, a milkshake, and her massage with Jacob who seems to have magic hands. Of course, because that's what she wants, nothing goes as planned. The massage is scheduled for 7:00 and at 6:30 she's stuck in traffic. When she passes the stalled car in the middle lane, she wants to flip the driver the finger but he looks lost and has a cell phone to his ear so she feels slightly bad for him.

There's no time to eat and she runs into the massage place with only a few minutes to spare. She checks in and pauses when the receptionist says, "Bella Swan. Okay. Edward will be out in just a few minutes."

"Edward? No. My therapist is Jacob."

"Jacob's out today," the girl says after a moment. "It says here you were called last night around… six-thirty with details about cancelling the appointment if necessary."

She feels like an idiot for a second. She knew she should have listened to her voicemail but who has time for that? With a sigh, she nods, feeling defeated. "Edward – is he a good therapist?"

"Of course," she assures Bella. "He just started last week."

"He's new?" New therapists make Bella skeptical. Sure, they've been to classes and have the certification but they don't always have the people skills she likes. She wants to be made comfortable before getting naked on a massage table. She likes being able to relax and not worry about what the therapist might be thinking – like Mike who stared at her after sessions like he was remembering her naked.

"Oh no, not a new therapist – just new at this location. He'll be right out."

Bella knows a dismissal when she hears one so she sits in the one empty leather armchair. Almost as soon as she gets comfortable, the door to the back rooms opens and a tall, attractive – and hello, sexy – man walks out and glances over the customers in the room. He walks up to the front desk and talks to the receptionist for a bit before reaching for a clipboard.

"Bella?" he calls out.

"Hi," she says as she stands.

"Hi, Bella. I'm Edward. Sorry about the mix-up." He shakes her hand – a nice, firm grip that her dad would be proud of – and opens the door for her. "Have you been seeing Jacob long?"

No, no, no, she wants to scream. I'm not seeing him. Not like that.

"Almost a year," she says aloud. "I just like routine."

He smiles a lopsided grin and gestures for her to enter a dimly lit room. "Well, hopefully tonight won't be too bad. I have your file here but do you want me to focus on any particular area?"

"My back," she blurts out. "And the backs of the legs and thighs. They've been getting tight."

Oh God, did I say that?

"Okay, I can help with that." He moves toward the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes. You're going to face down tonight, alright?"

"Okay."

The door shuts behind him and Bella wants to groan. There's no way she'll be able to get comfortable now. She's pretty sure her reaction is due to a lack of sex in her life right now – she refuses to count Eric Yorkie who was drunk and really wanted to bang Paul but couldn't find him – and the fact that Edward is pretty much the epitome of her dream man.

Shedding her clothes, tiny bumps prickle along her arm. It's a little cool in the room but maybe that's a good thing. When she's completely naked and her clothes are folded on the chair, she lifts the white sheet and lies down, shimmying up until she can place her face into the pillow rest. The sheet is only partway up her back so she shivers.

There's a knock and after she says a quick, "Come in," the door opens and Edward is speaking in a low, comforting voice. She's heard it all before – tell him if anything is uncomfortable, if the pressure is okay – so she tunes out the words and focuses on the cadence of his voice.

"Okay, then?" he finishes.

What did he just say?

"Um, yes." She hopes that's a good answer.

It must be okay because he fixes the sheet on her back, moving it downward and tucking it beneath her body so that her entire back is exposed. Bella takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

He's just another therapist, she chants in her head. Calm the fuck down.

She hears him pump oil from a container into his hands, hears the always-awkward sound of him warming up his hands with the oil. His first touch near the top of her back, between her shoulders, makes her jump. Even with the warming oil, his hands are still a little cold.

Each swipe of his hands calms her nerves.

Every pass of his palms over her skin is a balm of relief.

"Harder," she murmurs. "I mean… A little more firm if you can."

He doesn't say anything, just kneads his fingers deeper into her skin until she can feel the fire burning in the chords of muscle and sinew.

When he presses his forearm against the right side of her spine and pushes up, she lets out a small groan of content.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

"Mm-hmm," she manages to mumble.

The same thing happens when he works on her left side.

The coolness of the sheet over her back is shocking but then he peels back the fabric from her right leg. With the cool air swirling around the room, her leg twitches and Edward's hand soothes it into position.

His thumb pressing into the arch of her foot makes her eyes close.

His fingers dancing over her ankle make her exhale deeply.

His palms moving up her calves and back down and up again make her mind go blank.

She doesn't feel the way his fingers trace lines up the back of her knee or the way his hands cup the back of her thigh to manipulate the muscles into a sense of relaxation. She jerks slightly when a finger brushes against the black ink on the side of her leg.

Sleepy, she thinks. So sleepy. So good.

"Bella?" A smooth voice interrupts her rest and she hums in response. "Bella, how are you feeling?"

Good. Very good.

"I'm okay," she manages to say.

"I'm going to step out of the room," Edward tells her. "Take your time getting up and getting dressed. I'll be outside with some water. Okay?"

"Okay."

The door clicks shut.

All she wants to do is lie there in pure bliss.


Thank you to oOza for the beta work and the never-ending laughs.