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"Come again?" I blink and feel my face contort into a glare of disbelief and skepticism.
"I think you should hear him out." Rose sips her margarita, and adjusts her enormous, black Dior frames on her face.
"Is this about me overreacting again?" I ask, because I don't understand why Rose is condoning me giving Edward a chance all of a sudden. "Because I fully admit that I may have reacted a bit… strongly to the initial news that he lied to me-"
"He didn't lie, Bella." Rose rolls her eyes at my choice of the words. "Stop being so dramatic."
I check for the spirit glue that is surely the source of security for the Rosalie Hale mask, which is covering the face of whomever it is I'm talking to right now.
"I'm being cautious." I munch on a chip that is loaded with salsa and talk around it. "Besides, I thought you were 'no fan of Edward Cullen'."
"I wouldn't use the word 'fan', I would simply say that I think he deserves a second chance." Rose licks a bit of salt from the rim of her glass. "That is all."
"I agree." Peter jumps in, babbling about "the hotness" and "that voice" and "those hands".
"I am very aware of the hands," I snap at Peter from across the table. Peter swats Eye-Rolling Rose in the arm before crumbling into giggles. "Trust me. If the hands were the only element to consider, I'd be doing more than hearing him out."
"B," Rose says, propping her elbows upon our regular Happy Hour patio table that is made of wrought iron and is now covered in tortilla chips, salsa, and tequila. "I'm not saying to spread 'em. I'm just saying, listen to what he has to say."
She's right. I should listen to him; give him a chance. It's only fair, and it can't hurt. But he scares the shit out of me. I'm so used to intimidating Jake until he just backs down. While I fully realize I left Jake for a reason, I don't know if I'm ready for what Edward has to offer.
"You're right," I agree and nod to our server, when she asks if I want another Dos Equis. "It can't hurt."
"Great!" Peter exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "Now that we have that settled, we can move on to more important things, like dick size. How big is it, Izz?"
Peter sets his elbows on the edge of the table and nestles his chin in his hands, expressing great interest. Rose rolls her eyes and flags our server down for more salsa.
"I didn't measure his dick, Pete."
"Well." Peter rolls a hand between us, encouraging me to say more. "Comparatively speaking. Big? Small? Average? What?"
I gape at him. Rose's shoulders start to bob up and down, like a Flintstone when they laugh. She has one hand over her mouth, and she's shaking her head.
"Comparatively speaking?" I use my 'argumentative' voice. "I have two people and a grand total of 87 experiences to compare him to. So… I don't think I can answer that with any level of expertise."
"It doesn't matter." Rose chuckles, shrugs, and pretends to come to my rescue. "Bella alluded to the fact that he had… technique. Or at least stamina, which is very important."
"Rosalie Hale." Peter rolls his eyes and lightly slaps a hand to the table. "Do not start with the 'it's not the size that matters' bullshit, because you and I both know that is never the case. Unfortunately, Izzy does not know this to be fact. And I'm sorry for that, Izz."
Peter launches into a soliloquy about the male form in relation to its ability to give pleasure with, "Honey, Jacob is a fine specimen, but, really. What is it, three inches? I mean, Mr. Cullen has to have brought something to the table, is all I'm saying…"
I feel my eyes narrow with distrust. There is no way that Peter knows the size of Jacob's penis. I have a feeling these two might be goading me, but I can't be quite sure... Bitches.
"Big, okay?" I whisper, and they both look at me expectantly. "I don't know how big, because I didn't bust out the measuring tape. But it was bigger than I remember… penises to be."
Rose and Peter are both fully aware that until last Tuesday/Wednesday, it had been a year since I had seen male genitalia in the flesh and in action. Jake and I pretty much kept it to Valentine's Day, birthdays, and anniversaries. And sometimes New Year's Day, if we were feeling amorous.
"Woot!" Peter shouts and makes a referee's sign of a goal. "Pay up, Hale!"
Rose scoffs and drags a twenty off the table, handing it to Peter as she sneers, "I wouldn't call that a confirmation, Jackson. All she said was 'big'. For all we know, Jake does have three-inches down there. Comparatively speaking…"
"See?" Peter pockets the twenty and coos in my direction, patting my hand and ignoring Rose completely. "Was that so hard? Ooh! I bet it waaaas. Heheheheheh…"
He is such a pervert.
Monday night is laundry night. Well, Monday and any other night I can't shove any more into my tiny, cedar-framed laundry bag.
Back at my studio, I strip out of my jeans and slip my bra out from under my tank top. I dig through my chest of drawers and find an old pair of Jake's boxers that I've worn on laundry night since I was in college.
I open my iTunes and choose the playlist I listen to when I'm home alone, cleaning or cooking. The first song is Cherry Cola by Eagles of Death Metal. Baby Duck is hotter than hot, and I love his heavy-handed drumming. Also, Boots cracks my shit up.
My inside door is standing open, and my screen door is locked to keep the drunk idiots out of my apartment. The evening sun is streaming through the screen, and Angel is lolling lazily in the doorway. I shimmy around my dinky living space folding the clean and dry laundry and dump the second and last load into the dryer.
The knock on my door scares the bejeezus out of me as Sarah Borges sings about living life in stereo. I gasp out loud, proving that no matter how many of those stupid Friday the 13th movies I endured as a teen, I will never be immune to even the littlest "boo".
"HOLY Mary, Mother of God!" I clasp my hand to my throat and turn to the door, but I'm not consoled, because what I see is equally as terrifying as anything Jason ever threatened.
"Pray for us sinners," Edward smirks and leans an arm on the doorframe. "Can I come in?"
Fuck.
He's wearing Ray Bans, a black, v-neck t-shirt, and button fly jeans. I prefer aviator lenses on guys, but the button fly jeans more than make up for it. Lord, help me.
"Once the invitation occurs, the vampire is always welcome..." I mumble as he slips his sunglasses off of his face.
He blinks, cocks his head, and clenches his jaw in thought before replying, "If you're more comfortable, we can talk outside. I'm not here to take advantage of you, Bella."
I shuffle to the door and flip the lock open before retreating to the couch, where stacks of clean clothes are piled. I start to put them away, hearing the doorknob twist and Edward enter the studio.
Angel arches his back, stretching and pawing at Edward's pant leg. He shakes his little black head and his bells jingle merrily as the crystals on his collar sparkle over the walls.
"Hey, little guy." Edward's voice is soft as he stoops to scratch Angel's fuzzy head.
The sight is adorable, because I'm a total sucker for how fucking cute my cat is. Edward isn't too tough to look at, either.
"He gives kitty butts," I mumble, listening to Angel's little motor purr, and watching him rub his face all over Edward's hands.
Yeah, I don't blame you, little dude.
"Kitty butts?" Edward looks up, mouth slack, brow furrowed, before he kneels all the way to the floor. "You mean, like head butts?"
I nod as I shove panties and shorts into a drawer, and Edward bends further toward Angel. Angel gives Edward a little kitty butt.
Edward must have some kind of mystical pheromone that he sprays all over himself before he leaves his house. Or, maybe it's Axe. It's freakish how I react to him. Part of me is still mad as Hell at him for not telling me that he was separated, and the other part just wants to throw him down.
I approach him and Angel, and Edward smiles. I pick up Angel and head into the kitchen to get him some crunchies. Edward follows me and I ask him if I can get him anything to drink.
"Sure," he replies with a shrug. "Whatever you have is fine."
It's nice that he qualified that, because I was just thinking about running out for some Cristal. What an egotistical…
Calm down, Bella. Hear him out.
The music has switched to Placebo, but I turn down the volume on my Air Tunes and grab a couple bottles of Stella from my fridge, before pulling out the stools from my pub table. As Edward pops the tops off the beers, Angel is chomping happily on his seafood Temptations.
"I'd like to apologize..." Edward looks me in the eyes and hands me a bottle. "For the confusion regarding my marital status."
I scoff.
"There may not have been so much 'confusion' if you had just told me instead of, or in addition to, Eric."
"That's true." He nods and concedes. "But, in my defense, I thought you heard me tell Eric. I hadn't even been introduced to you before he started quizzing me about my ring."
"Ah, yes," I roll my eyes and mock-grin. "The ring… So, tell me, Mr. Cullen, if you are in fact separated, why still wear your ring?"
Edward looks thoughtful for a long moment, pursed lips and furrowed brow. He picks at his label and gnaws on his bottom lip.
EPOV
Why am I still wearing my ring?
Just as I was ready to ask her why the hell she would go home with a married man, Bella asked me a very legitimate question, for which I should have an answer ready. I should know this, but I've never had to explain my ring to anyone, because it was just a symbol.
To me, the ring was hope that the marriage Tanya and I built could be something more. To all of the random one-night stands, it meant that I was unavailable for anything long-term or serious.
"I don't have an answer to that," I reply and watch her sip her beer. "I could say that it's complicated, but maybe I underestimated its significance. It was just a prop. The whole thing was a farce."
"A farce?" Bella's expression is incredulous. "That's a glowing testimonial for the sanctity of marriage if there ever was one."
"You're kidding, right? You're spewing diatribe about my disregard for the sanctity of marriage when you brought a married man home with you to spend the night."
"I told you," she whispers and moves to get away from our conversation. "I had never done anything like that before."
I watch her squirm in her seat, her face turning red. I didn't come here to make her regret what we did. I wanted to talk things out, because we needed to have this conversation a week ago, before we fucked on her hardwood floor. But now, she's trying to avoid this again.
"I'm sorry." I back off a little, trying to keep her focus on what needs to be said. "I believe you, Bella. I tried to make a point, and I failed. My point is, we both did some things and assumed some things…"
She looks up at me through her lashes. Her face is red with embarrassment and anger.
"Bella, I should have told you I was married, but separated," I confess as I take a deep breath, because I don't know what she knows exactly. "So… now I'm telling you. My wife and I are separated. We have a daughter, who is not biologically mine. I don't know when we'll file for divorce, but it will happen."
She is thoughtful, playing with the silver chains dangling from her delicate wrist. I lean in close and grasp her hand in mine.
"Please believe me when I say, I'm sorry," I mutter and stroke her wrist as she struggles in my hold. "I want to make it right, and I want to see if we can go anywhere with this."
Bella looks up at me and juts out her chin. She still looks a little angry. I can deal with anger, but I don't want her to be ashamed.
"Bella," I pull her close to me and whisper in her ear. "Tell me what I can do."
She stiffens in my embrace, and her breath is warm on my cheek.
"Take the ring off." Her voice low and ardent in my ear.
I don't understand why she cares about the ring. I told her it didn't mean anything to me.
"Why does the ring matter, Bella?" I pull away from her face and shake my head in confusion. "I told you… I will divorce her."
"You asked, and I'm telling." Her expression is fierce. "I want… you to take off your ring."
She holds my gaze and I hold her hand for what seems like an eternity. Then slowly, I let go of her wrist, sit upright, and slip off my ring.
I haven't taken it off since Tanya pushed it onto my finger that sunny Saturday afternoon in May of 2006. I look down at the faint tan line and wiggle the fingers on my left hand. The platinum band drops from my right hand to the tabletop, bouncing off the marble and rolling to the floor.
A wedding band is a symbol. It holds power, if you let it. But Tanya and I never had anything to be sealed tight with that band. The ring was just an accessory.
The realization hits me like a tidal wave, washing over me. I feel a little bit dazed. And then… exhilarated.
My eyes come to rest on Bella as she watches with utter fascination while the ring rolls, and then spins like a top. Once it stills on the hardwood, she slowly turns her gaze to me. She's breathing heavy, and her eyes are hooded. She slips from her barstool and positions herself between my knees before pulling me into a hard and wet kiss.
BPOV
The rush I feel is powerful. It's like getting a tattoo, only better. I asked Edward for something that I wanted, and he gave it to me. Fuck me, but that was hot. Now, I'm kissing him for reasons that I can't explain. Other than, as previously mentioned, I am a giant whore and he is Satan.
Satan slides his lanky frame from his perch on the barstool and backs me up against the refrigerator with his hands on my hips. His fingers work their way under the hem of my tank top in the front, and then down the back waistband of my shorts. He drags a hand up my torso and shoves it into my messy hair. I piled it on top my head with an elastic band, but he's weaving his long fingers under the band, squeezing my scalp.
"We're done talking?" I mumble into his neck.
"For now," he breathes and sucks my earlobe into his mouth.
"Good," I breathe and shiver and shake. "Because I want you to come in my mouth."
Edward whimpers before sinking his teeth into the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He swipes his tongue over the skin he's pulled between his teeth and hisses, "So good…"
My hand is in his pants, hot and hard. I still don't understand this, but I'm done trying. It's human nature. This feeling is older than civilization. It's ancient. Who am I to question it?
I yank the buttons of his fly open and shove his jeans down his legs as I drop to my knees. Just six days ago, he was in a similar position. I owe him one. Fuck, I think I owe him two at this point.
I settle on my haunches and lick my lips. I hear him groan, and I look up. He's braced his elbows backwards on the pub table, and he's looking down at me. I grasp him at the base and lick the tip of his cock. He groans and jerks lightly.
Maybe someday I'll stop being completely dumfounded by sucking Edward off. For now, I pull him fully inside, swirl my tongue around, and bask in the sensation of him in my mouth, thick and salty and warm.
My arms are wrapped around his hips and he's panting and grunting. He jams a hand into my hair and braces another on the refrigerator door. I can feel him hitting the back of my throat, so I relax my muscles and take him all the way.
Who knew I could deep throat? I sure as hell did not. Until I met Edward Cullen.
Edward comes in record time, silently. I feel pretty fucking talented. But then again, a blowjob is a blowjob.
"We need to close your door." Edward is grinning as he pulls me to my feet, and removes his feet from his shoes and jeans. "What is it with us fucking with your door standing open?"
I giggle as he spins me around and backs me toward the couch, gently pushing me down to the cushions. I lie back and enjoy the view as he strides to the door and slams it shut. Turning back to me, he pulls his t-shirt over his head and dives on top of me on the couch.
"Off," Edward commands as he jerks my tank top over my head and nudges my boxers and panties over my hips. He's laughing and so am I. This moment is so right.
We still have a lot to talk about. Like, what did he mean by seeing if we could 'make something out of this'? I love the way he makes me feel, but I don't know much else about him other than he's a carnivore with a diverse taste in music and likes the color red.
Before I can have too many more serious thoughts, his fucktastic fingers are tracing my labia and he's kissing and licking my nipples. I want him to bite them.
"Bite..." I whisper. "Bite me, Edward."
I have always been so apprehensive to declare what I want, especially in bed. I usually just get it for myself. Maybe asking him to ditch the ring gave me a boost of confidence. Which is cool, because he seems to really dig my dirty talking.
Biting, licking, sucking, grinding his hips into mine…
His grip is tight on the backs of my thighs as he brings my knees up to my chest and pushes himself down my body to fuck me with his tongue.
"Fuck," I whine and grab the couch's armrest behind my head.
The song changes to Wandering Star. Having Edward dominate me with his hands and fuck me with his tongue while Portishead plays in the background? Unparalleled hotness.
Tongue inside, swirling around, then around my clit… Back inside hot, wet, and thick.
Edward sits up and tucks my leg over the back of the couch and says, "Stay," before pressing his thumb beside my clit and three fingers inside me.
"Come on, Bella." He grits through his teeth, fucking me hard with his hand.
I know I'll be bruised again. His fingers are so deep inside me, that his knuckles are grinding my slick lips as his thumb lightly rubs my clit. God, I love this…
"Edward, I want…" I hesitate. He might like the vampy foreplay, but I don't know if he wants me to say 'cock' or 'dick' or what.
"What?" Edward is still holding me open with one hand and fucking me with the other, but now he's standing with one knee between my thighs on the couch and one foot on the floor.
I let go of the arm of the couch and reach forward to touch the object of my affection.
"Say it." He pulls his fingers from inside me and stops me from touching him with his wet fingers. "Say it, Bella, or you won't get it."
He's feral and intense, and he's got that look like he wants to eat me alive.
"I want your… cock." My voice is hoarse and shy, and I'm breathing heavy. Edward groans, bites his bottom lip, and I'm pretty sure I see him… twitch.
'Cock' it is.
He releases my thigh and my hand, before reaching for his jeans. Thankfully, my apartment is the approximate size of a shoebox, so he can just reach out and grab them from the kitchen. He pulls a condom from the back pocket and rips the package open.
"Come here, baby." Edward takes me by the hand as he sits back into the couch like he's getting ready to watch football highlights on a television that I don't own.
I watch him roll the condom over his hard cock. It is one of the sexiest things I've ever seen. Edward should go to sex ed. classes for high school students and third world countries to teach them proper condom application. There is no way they would ever forget the sight before my eyes.
EPOV
"Come on, Bella." I pat my thigh and tug her by the hand, beckoning. "Be a good girl and get on top."
I love watching her blush. She's timid and inexperienced, but definitely desirous. Having sex with Bella is so much more real than it's ever been with anybody else. I love the way she makes me feel, and I love learning more about her body and her mind.
Bella straddles me and braces her hands on the back of the couch. I frame her hips with my hands and slip inside her slowly.
Somewhere along the line, most of Bella's hair has come out of its tie. Her hair is one of her best features, dark and wavy and wild. It's covering one breast just barely. I reach up a hand to lightly tweak her nipple and she hisses.
"You set the pace, Bella." My hands encircle her perfect tits, and I want to know her body inside and out. "Just feel it. Show me how you like it."
She grinds her hips down and then squeezes as she pulls up, slow and tight. Her head is back and her hands are on my chest. She seems to be pushing me away. I wrap my fingers around her wrists and let her fall back to balance mid-air.
We're joined at the groin and she's floating and moaning and riding me. I can feel her tightening and I'm about to pop. Her body is glistening with sweat, her chest is heaving, her hair hanging behind her.
"Oh, god…" She's coming. I can feel her quake and shiver.
"Yes." I hiss. "Fuck me hard, Bella."
She slams down a few more times, clamping, squeezing, and I come just after her. I slowly pull her to my chest. She's breathing heavy, sniffling, like she just ran a marathon.
"Holy shit," is all she says as her sweaty little forehead drops to my shoulder, and I stroke her back and her hips.
We sit like that for a few minutes, catching our breath, exploring and appreciating each other's bodies. Finally, Bella pulls up and pulls me out. I discard of the condom in a Kleenex from the end table.
"Where did you get this?" Bella runs a finger across the scar on my hip from the time I went down the well to get a lost toy. I always thought it was odd that Tanya never noticed I was bleeding that day. Hell, she never even asked what the scar was a few years later, when she gave me my first blowjob.
"I was rappelling down a well to retrieve a toy." I stroke her hair, her head lying on my shoulder once again. "My foot slipped and I swung. My hip hit the wall and there was a hook, or something… I don't know, I couldn't really see, it was dark."
"Oh my god!" Bella's head shoots up, and she looks shocked and sympathetic. "Did you have to have stitches?"
"Yeah. Thirty-two." I chuckle, remembering how angry my dad was when I told him the fabricated story of Emmett and I wrestling, and me rolling onto a garden tool. "Luckily, my dad's a doctor. I had to have a tetanus shot, too. It sucked."
"Whose toy was it?" Bella strokes my hair to comfort me for something that happened over a quarter century ago.
"Tanya's." I bite my lip and think it feels strangely gratifying to tell someone that story. It's been my and Emmett's little secret, much to his annoyance, since that day. "Or, rather, her sister's… She wasn't supposed to be playing with it, and then she lost it down the well. She started crying. I had to get it for her."
Bella's brow furrows as she looks into my eyes with compassion and confusion. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I enjoy the scrape of her fingertips on my scalp.
"Who's Tanya?" Bella's voice is quiet and thoughtful.
Way to ruin a moment, Cullen. Bring up 'the wife'.
I sigh and tell Bella that Tanya is my soon-to-be ex-wife, who I have watched over our entire lives. I also tell Bella about Tanya's "surprise" pregnancy after our Italy trip and my subsequent decision to marry her.
"I honestly thought that we could have something special, but I was wrong." I realize that Bella and I are still nude and I'm just laying it all out there now.
"Everybody makes mistakes," Bella mutters as she twirls a piece of her hair and looks off into space. "Edward… I haven't been completely honest with you."
"What?" I pull my legs up onto the couch to sit cross-legged and instinctively grab a throw pillow to protect my package. I have no idea what she's about to say, and I just want to be prepared.
"I just signed my divorce papers on Sunday."
I stare at her for several seconds before the irony of the situation finally dawns on me. And then, I start to laugh.