Hi! I just wanted to say thanks for the reviews lately, especially to those of you who review nearly every chapter. It's particularly satisfying to know how you're liking it as we go!
I don't own Twilight or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is rated M and not intended for readers under the age of 18.
WANDERLUST
CHAPTER 10
There is one distinct difference between the RV that we traveled in during the U.S. special that inspired the network to send us road-tripping across foreign countries and the RV we're in now – size. Since the point of the program was always the route and never the means, the RV we had across Route 66 was actually pretty fancy – nearly double the size of the one we're in now and more like the type that a band on tour might have. It's not that the campervan we're in now isn't nice, because it is. And I understand that smaller vehicles are better here for the size of the roads. It's just a little cramped with six people in it even if it technically sleeps that many people. This might have contributed to the sour mood I woke up in this morning, and I don't think I'm the only one.
"I can't wait to get to Galway and out of this fucking RV," Rose complains as she folds up her and Emmett's bed for the day. We never had to fold up our beds on Route 66. "Why didn't you rent two, Jasper?"
"They said it fits six people, he didn't know it would be this crowded," Alice says, stepping in to defend Jasper even though she herself threw a pretty good fit when we pulled up to our booked hotel in Cork and were told that water damage from a leaking roof had rendered our reserved rooms unusable. She groused that she needed alone time with Jasper and now she wasn't going to get it. I absolutely could not stop myself from pointing out that at least she got to sleep on the same bed as her boyfriend, which was one better than me.
I think our entire group was worn out from the busy week we'd had, exploring numerous castles and villages, navigating the rough and winding roads of the Irish countryside. It wasn't that we'd had a bad time – quite the contrary. I'd enjoyed every bit of the breathtaking scenery and the hospitality of the locals who were quick to share a story or a song in the lively pubs that dotted the main streets of the towns we came across. In the last couple days, though, our usually easy going group seemed a little more irritable that usual.
Today we were visiting the Cliffs of Moher, something I had been particularly looking forward to, but I just wasn't feeling it this morning and had been rather sluggish in getting ready. Despite the blue sky we'd been graced with, I dressed warmly and in layers, figuring the wind off of the Atlantic was likely to be particularly cold and opted to wear my soccer trainers for a little extra traction than what was offered by my standard black flats. I didn't like to wear the trainers much since they weren't very feminine (in fact, they were the exact opposite being only a smaller size of the shoes heavily favored by Edward), but I wasn't exactly looking to slip and fall off a cliff.
"Well, didn't you look at any pictures or anything? We should have at least had two of these things," Rose continues, ignoring Alice.
Emmett slams the door of the bathroom open and squeezes himself out of the tiny space to finish getting ready and I turn to jump at my chance to get in there and brush my teeth. What I see sitting on the little ledge next to the sink makes my blood boil.
"Emmett!" I practically scream, grabbing my toothbrush, which had been sitting on the ledge to dry after I used it last night and waving it in front of me. "There are whiskers on my fucking toothbrush!"
"Okay," he says with pure indifference, without even looking at me. "There are two other guys in here. Don't just assume it was me."
"Of course it was you! They're black! Not blonde. Not Auburn. Black!" I look down at my toothbrush and the whiskers mixed in with the bristles. I swear, I almost puke. I have to hold it back.
"So? I cleaned up after myself. I wiped everything off so I didn't have to hear you bitch about it again."
I'd already asked him a couple of days ago to clean his mess after finding the whiskers all over the sink. Bathroom cleanliness is important to me. Sue me.
"Hey, now," Edward warns Emmett from his bunk, where he's digging through his suitcase.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'll buy you another one. You could just rinse it off, like a normal person."
"I am a normal person! Normal people clean up after themselves!" I move forward toward Emmett to give him a better look at the disgusting mess he left my toothbrush in.
"Okay, Bella, he gets it," Rose snaps, putting her arm out in front of her between Emmett and me.
I glare at her. "I don't think he does. He clearly doesn't care."
"Baby, it's not a big deal. Use my toothbrush, okay?" Edward pulls his toothbrush out of his bag and tosses it onto my bed.
I turn to face Edward.
"It is a big deal. It's gross. And I asked him not to do it before."
"No, Bella, it really isn't. Just use mine."
"I don't want to use yours. That's gross." I seethe at him, pissed off that he isn't siding with me.
"How is that gross? We kiss each other every day. You kissed me ten damn minutes ago. Any mouth germs I have, you already have."
"It's the principle of the thing. I want my own toothbrush, without Emmett's beard all over it."
"Jesus, Bella." Edward shakes his head, like he's exasperated. "This is the stupidest reason to start a fight. If I didn't know better, I'd think this was PMS." He mutters that last part, almost under his breath.
What. The. Fuck. I stare at him for a moment before I drop my toothbrush into the garbage can under the kitchenette counter, turn and shove open the RV door. Once my feet are on the crunchy gravel of the parking lot I let the door slam behind me and walk quickly towards the cliffs. It's early yet and there aren't any other tourists out, it's just me and the sharp wind, blowing my hair wildly out behind me.
That is, until I hear the RV door open and shut and quick strides following me up the path. I don't need to turn and look to see who it is.
"Edward Anthony Cullen, I do not want to speak to you," I say without stopping or turning around.
"That's fine," he says, his fingers wrapping around my wrist when it swings back with my quick pace.
"Don't touch me!" I say, yanking my arm back and away from him.
He picks up speed and cuts in front of me, stopping me short. I glare at him and clench my fists at my side.
"I didn't mean that," he says, reaching for me, but I jerk back from his touch again.
"That was such a fucking ridiculous, chauvinist thing to say. Just because a woman is upset about something does not mean she has PMS."
"I know. I didn't mean it," he repeats.
"Well, you should think before you speak then. Oh, and for future reference, sticking up for your girlfriend is generally a nice thing to do."
"Bella, it wasn't something to start a fight over. It just wasn't. The arrangement isn't ideal, but we're all in it for another week. We have to try to be flexible. Just let it go."
If he thinks I'm going to let something go just because he tells me to, he's got another thing coming.
"You know what, Edward?" I ask him calmly, cocking my eyebrow.
"What?" There's an edge to his voice he doesn't usually use with me.
"I'm not angry at Emmett anymore."
"Okay." His lips are pressed in a tight line. He's not falling for it. He knows me too well. "But you're still mad at me, right?"
I just look at him, not bothering to say anything.
"Alright," he runs his fingers through his hair. "This is new."
He's right – it is new. Edward and I have never had a fight, not a real one. And somehow it makes me even angrier that he's so calm about it. It's not even about the damn toothbrush anymore – it's about the fact that he didn't stick up for me and now, maybe, it's about how calm he is over this.
His eyes roam my face for a few seconds before he steps to the side and brushes past me back down the path to the RV. Even though I don't really want to, the pull to turn around and watch him leave is too strong and I spin on my heel and watch him move lithely toward where Emmett is now standing outside surrounded by equipment. The only thing to indicate that he might be more upset than he shows is the way he tenses and shoves Emmett's arm away when Emmett tries to playfully punch his shoulder. Their body language is tight, but there are no raised voices. Emmett doesn't seem fazed over our spat at all, but Edward's angrier than he was when I left that RV. Great. This definitely was not the goal.
#WL#
It's a good thing we're at the Cliffs today because the beauty of the sheer drops down to the misty break of the waves against the rock, so far below you can't even hear their noise, is a great distraction for the camera. I can barely muster up a smile for the few minutes I actually have to be in the shot. A bus full of college-age kids pulled up while we got our act together and finally got our equipment up and running. They actually make for some funny shots as I watch them hop down to a path just slightly lower than the main plateau and take pictures with their fingers curled over the edges, like they're hanging on for dear life.
There are signs in a few places that declare that no one should go further, but the worn paths beyond prove that a good amount of people do. Edward wanders beyond the sign and my stomach surges with nerves, watching him move down the path with the heavy camera on his shoulder. I've picked that thing up before – it weighs a lot more than you'd think. It's not a stretch of my imagination to think what could happen if Edward took one wrong step on some loose gravel, just that much too close to the edge.
"Edward! Don't!" I scold, waving at him to come back up. I sound like someone's mother, but I don't care. I might be angry at him but I love him and I don't want him to be a pile of crushed-Edward-bones at the bottom of the cliffs.
To my surprise, his head jerks up to look at me and he immediately turns back around and comes back up to where it's deemed safe. I suppose he's not in the teasing mood today, or maybe he just doesn't want to fight about something else.
When we've all had enough of the views we make our way back to the RV and I fling myself on my bunk once inside. I face the wall, and I can feel a presence behind me, but I don't think it's Edward.
"I'm sorry about the toothbrush, Bells," Emmett says and I can tell he really means it. "I'll get you another one."
"It's okay, Emmett. Thanks." I can see his shadow against the wall and it doesn't move.
"Is there something else?"
"Don't be mad at Eddie because of me," he says.
"I'm not mad at him because of you."
Emmett hesitates for another minute but eventually moves back toward the front of the camper to where everyone has taken their seats for the ride to Galway. The engine hums with life when Jasper starts it up and rolls out of the parking lot toward the road and I figure it must be around nine in the morning in New York. I instinctively reach into the pocket of my hoodie for my phone, thinking I'll call Leah and see how the lecture series wrapped up when I remember that my phone met an untimely demise during my visit to Blarney Castle a few days ago. For future reference, phones tend to fall out of un-zippered jacket pockets while you're being dangled upside-down over a high drop just so you can kiss a rock that's supposed to give you the gift of gab. And what good is the gift of gab if you've got no phone to call anyone on? I never really noticed how dependent I was on my phone until after watching it crash to its death at the walls of Blarney Castle. One of the guides was actually able to get it back for me but no matter – the glass on the screen had completely shattered.
With no phone to mess around on and no desire to socialize with everyone else, I let my eyes drift closed and nap the whole way to Galway.
#WL#
When my body detects that the RV has stopped moving I come out of the haze of sleep slowly, having napped a little too long for it to be properly called a nap. I had been dreaming one of those dreams where nothing really happens and it's more like a memory – Edward and I were seated on my couch watching reruns of an old television show that I loved to watch because it reminded me of home, or at least the home I grew up in. I'm vaguely aware of murmuring voices and I pick out Edward's among the others easily, feeling momentarily soothed by the deep tone until I remember that I am still angry with him. I scowl to myself and remain motionless on my bunk, listening to the conversations going on behind me.
"You guys go on up – I'll get her stuff and then come back and wake her up," Edward says to whoever in the group is still here. I'm sure if we've been here longer than a few minutes, people have wasted no time in getting out of the RV.
There's rustling and a couple of loud thumps as I listen to luggage being picked up and swung around and I hear my own suitcase slide out from under my bunk. A few moments later, the RV door swings open and then closes shut again with a dull thwak. I'm finally alone. I turn on my back and look out the small window at the foot of my bunk and gasp at what I see. The RV is parked outside of what looks like a castle – a small one – but a castle still. The building consists of a square tower constructed in grayish-brown stone, complete with long, tall windows and several skinny slits that I imagine were once used to defend the property if it's as old as I think it might be. There is a smaller wing off the large tower with white lattice windows that is almost completely covered in a deep evergreen shade of ivy that climbs up a portion of the larger tower.
The whole thing is a little strange but very beautiful and I lie still on my bunk and just look at it while I wait for Edward to return. It doesn't take him long – they probably got all checked in before they came back for the luggage.
"Where are we?" I ask groggily when he steps up into the RV and crouches down next to the bed.
"Just outside Galway," he answers gruffly and slides one more bag out from under the bed that I didn't realize was still here.
"Why are we at a castle?"
"It's a hotel."
"Okay, so why are we here?"
"Jasper booked this place because he thought Alice would like it after everything in Cork got messed up." He turns and leaves the RV, not even bothering to wait for me.
"Well, it's a better surprise than that stupid jail," I say to myself.
I swing my legs off the bunk and trudge into the hotel. I'm on the verge of a headache and even though I just woke up from a nap, I just want to lie back down again. This might be why I don't respond with a lot of enthusiasm when Alice approaches me in the lobby and asks me to go out just as I'm about to climb the grand staircase where the receptionist told me I should go to find my room.
"You guys should just go without me, I don't feel well," I say, waving her off.
"Bella, you haven't felt well for half this trip. If you're actually sick, go to a doctor. Otherwise, buck up and get the hell over it. You're not acting like yourself."
I ignore her and walk down the hall to my room. The inside of the castle is as impressive as the outside – it's decorated in deep color and rich fabrics and our bedroom (while considerably smaller than I would have thought it would be) is outfitted with a four poster bed covered in maroon and gold duvets and draped in curtains in similar shades. The future is clean but ancient looking and a lamp with an amber colored shade glows in the corner, electricity clearly being an added luxury. A luggage rack at the foot of the bed holds my suitcase while Edward's rests on the floor beside it and I go and flop on the bed and close my eyes immediately. I can hear Edward fiddling with a zipper on one of his bags in the bathroom and then the faucet turns on and I hear the swish, swish of his toothbrush against his teeth. I still haven't gotten to brush my teeth today.
I don't open my eyes when he comes out of the bathroom but when he talks to me, I can tell he's standing right in front of me.
"Are you going to get ready to go out or not?"
"We're not filming tonight, are we?" I ask, even though I know weren't not.
"No."
"Then no, I'm staying here."
He sighs and I hear all his frustration in that one whoosh. "Suit yourself then."
I peek through one eye at him as he loosely laced his soccer trainers. You could barely even call them tied; sometimes I don't know why he bothers. He shakes his head. "Ridiculous," he murmurs under his breath, just loud enough that I can hear him although I don't think he meant for me to.
"I heard that," I snip.
"I don't care. It's true." He stands up and leaves the room.
I sit up and look out the window, where I can see Jasper standing next to a taxi. There's another taxi just pulling away and I catch a glimpse of Rose's blonde hair in the window and a figure next to her that must be Emmett. Jasper is gesturing to someone who must be walking toward him and in another second I see that it's Edward, shaking his head. Jasper ducks into the taxi and Edward follows directly after him. He turns his head toward our window just as the cab pulls away and our eyes meet. I halfway expect him to smile at me, but of course, he doesn't.
The further away from the fight we get, the stupider it seems. I know I shouldn't be so stubborn and I should have let it go. I know it's not helping anything for me to sit up here and refuse to go with them. I know Alice was right, I'm not acting like myself. I'm just on edge. This week has been an emotional rollercoaster and even though a lot of it's been great, it's been a lot to take in. I legitimately didn't feel well for the first few days, I've been crammed in an RV with five other people the whole time which has lead to the worst thing of all - I haven't had sex with my boyfriend in a week. I had sex with Edward more often when he wasn't my boyfriend. Fuck that fucking RV.
#WL#
Despite saying that I wanted to lay down and sleep, I spend the time while everyone else is out doing everything except that. I feel too antsy to sleep. I begin to watch a soccer match on TV but I feel lonely watching it on my own – I've never watched a match without Edward. A small, leather bound book I find in the drawer of a bedside table describes the history of the castle, but when my stomach starts to rumble, I'm more interested in the page about the bar.
"Why so sad, young lady?" the bartended asks me when I take a seat on one of the few barstools downstairs. The room is cozy from the roaring fire in the grand, stone fireplace. The old man smiles at me while he pours me a glass of an amber liquid I didn't ask for, but will happily drink.
"I had a fight with my boyfriend. I'm still in a fight with my boyfriend." I accept the glass and glance at the short bar food menu. I don't mind that it's short – the first thing on the menu sounds fabulous. "Can I get a bowl of the potato and leek soup?"
"Of course you can," the bartended smiles again and disappears for a moment behind the bar. He returns with a steaming bowl of soup and two slices of Irish soda bread and I dive right in. He leaves me to my dinner and doesn't bother me with any typical bartender banter or advice and I'm thankful for that.
I don't hang around long after I finish and since I don't have my cell phone to play any games or listen to any music, I decide to watch a sappy movie on a channel that seems to be Europe's answer to the Lifetime Network. It's just…well, it's just stupid really, but I don't have anything better to do. And that one is followed up by another one and by this time, I've invested nearly four hours of my time in shitty, sappy made-for-TV movies. It's nearly ten o'clock and while I'm normally more of a night-owl, I decide I might as well just get ready for bed.
I'm digging through my bag, trying to find Edward's jersey when the lock on the suite door clicks and Edward steps into the room.
"Did you get something to eat?" he asks, placing a white take-out container on the table beside the door.
"Yeah, I ate in the bar." I say quietly.
"Bella?"
"Hmm?" I keep my eyes focused on the inside of my bag.
"I want to say something."
"Say it then."
"Will you please look at me?"
I sigh, loudly for dramatic effect, and turn my head to look at him. He stands in front of me, near the side of the bed, with one hand reaching out to grasp the poster at the foot of the bed. It causes his white t-shirt to ride up and a bit of the dark auburn hair on his lower belly is visible just over the line of his boxers. I try not to look but it's hard not to – I haven't seen enough of it in the last week, that's for sure.
"I know you're mad at me, and that's fine. And to be honest, I'm mad at you, too." I scoff at that and he holds out his hand as if to shush me. "You might not like me very much right now, but I love you. Whether we agree or not, I love you. I just want to make sure you always know that."
There's something so solemn about his tone that my heart just about breaks and the guilt of having shut him out all day suddenly feels like it might crush me. My chin quivers for a second but I get it under control and look up into his earnest emerald eyes.
"My dad used to say that you should never go to bed mad. You never know what might happen overnight, he'd say, if one day you just don't wake up. You don't want the last thing you felt about the person you love to be anger."
"The chief's a wise man," Edward says quietly, moving a little closer to me. He reaches out and tucks some of my hair behind my ear and lets his fingers linger on the raven-colored strands.
I can't take it anymore. I'm going to do something I admittedly am not great at doing. I'm going to be the first to apologize.
"I'm so sorry, Edward. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to be mad at you, ever." I reach out and grasp his fingers in mine, blink quickly and purse my lips in an effort to keep any tears at bay. A couple of traitorous tears escape the corners of my eyes and Edwards swipes them from my cheeks with his fingertips.
"Blackbird, I can guarantee this won't be our last fight. We're going to disagree on things."
"I know that. But I'm sorry I drug it out."
"It's okay. It's been a hard week." He takes my chin into his hand and tilts it up while he bends to meet my lips. I open my mouth to him immediately and he pushes his tongue into my mouth, the taste of something sweet and the taste of him assaulting my senses. He begins to pull away from me but I lace my fingers through his hair and around the back of his head, holding him to me, not letting him stray more than a centimeter from my lips.
"I miss you, Edward." I whisper, my chin scratching against the stubble on his own.
"I miss you, too, baby," he replies, his voice husky and his eyes glimmering a dark jade. "You know, there is one good thing about fighting."
"There is?"
He nods. "Making up."
His lips connect with mine again and his fingers go to the bottom of my t-shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His kisses become more urgent as I lie back on the bed and pull him with me, wrapping my legs around his hips and holding him tightly between my thighs. His hands push the straps of my bra off my shoulders before yanking the cups down enough to release my breasts to his greedy lips which detach from my mouth to wrap around a nipple, biting and sucking and teasing me until I think I might lose my mind. I'm not even trying to keep quiet tonight, not even thinking about it, and the volume of the moans coming out of my mouth is growing steadily.
My fingers untangle from Edward's hair and fumble between the buttons on the fly of his jeans unsuccessfully before he removes his hands from my upper body to give me a little help and do it himself. I'm tugging the denim against his slim hips and when he's got half of the buttons undone, he moves to work on my own. We let go of each other for only a moment, just long enough for me to kick out of my pants and panties and for him to whip his t-shirt over his head and shove his jeans and boxers to the floor. His hands are back on my hips as quickly as they left and he remains off the bed, pulling my lower half off of the mattress and onto his cock in a move that sucks the breath from my lungs and makes my toes curl.
Edward's height means that his hips aren't level with the bed and his hands migrate from my thighs to curl around and support the small of my back and keep me connected to him. I move my legs from where they hang at his sides and wrap them around his waist, clenching my muscles to bring him as close as possible.
"Fuck," Edward breathes and moves back minutely before shifting forward again and deeper into me. "I love when you do that thing, it's so tight."
"I know you do," I pant, "that's why I do it." I wink at him and he grins and leans forward on top of me.
He begins to move in and out of my body, back and forth, until a short grimace crosses his features, almost like pain, and he lifts himself up a bit on his forearms. His thrusts slow a little and then stop and he drops my hips and pulls me to a sitting position, causing him to slip out of my body. I'm confused as he begins to reach around me, his hands playing with the clasp on my bra.
"This looks great on you, but it's chaffing the crap out of my chest," he says, slipping it over my arms and flinging it to the floor.
I grasp at his shoulders, desperate to feel him moving inside of me again, but he has other plans and sinks to his knees in front of where I sit on the edge of the bed. His palms come to rest against my knee caps and he parts my legs and leans closer into me, placing soft kisses from the space between my breasts and down my stomach, then further still until I gasp and throw my head back, holding myself up on my arms stretched out behind me.
"Yes," I hiss and pant, adjusting my hands behind me so that I can hold myself up on one arm and hold the back of his head with the other, pressing him against me as his tongue darts out against my clit, swirling and teasing and winding me up. His fingers flex against my knees, holding me open to him as my breath comes in faster and faster, my chest heaving.
"Stop," I beg him, "Babe, stop."
He looks up, his green eyes hooded and unfocused. "What? Are you okay?" His lips are wet with my pleasure and I blush, struck with how dirty and yet how utterly sexy it is.
"I want you," I pull on his biceps with my hands, trying to move him up onto the bed with me. "I want to feel you inside me when I come. Please. Please."
"You don't have to beg, Blackbird. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."
He gets up off the floor and instead of moving over me as I expected, he passes me and lies down on the bed. My eyes move from his toes up his body and I drag my fingers along his shins, over his knees and thighs and into the dark auburn hair at the base of his cock. I lean over, taking him in my hand and placing an open-mouthed kiss on the tip before running my tongue along the underside as I roll his balls between my fingers. The muscles in his lower abs twitch and he groans, deep and gravelly. It spurs me on and I look up at him under my lashes as I take him into my mouth and suck, lightly and then harder, up and down.
"It's your turn to stop, Blackbird," he says, in a strained tone, "or I won't be able to give you what you want. Not for a little while anyway."
I release him with a pop and swing one leg over his thighs, shuffling my knees forward until the lips of my pussy rest directly over his cock. Edward reaches up and coaxes me down to lie on top of him, my breasts smashed against his chest and my chin tilted up to reach his lips with my own. I shove my hands between the mattress and Edward's shoulders, trying to get as close to him as possible. He curls his arms under my own and pulls me up so that I can only just feel the tip of his cock against me then reaches down around the back of my thigh and guides himself into me.
"Ahhh," I gasp against his mouth when he enters me, feeling it as acutely as I did only a few minutes ago, as I do every time we bring our bodies together.
"I love you," I whisper as my body slides back and forth against his, guided by his strong grasp and leaning back to look him in the eye, "I love you, I love you, I love you." I chant it to him, just as it runs through my head, because I can't think of anything except how full my heart is for him.
He snakes his hand between us, putting pressure where I need it while he begins to move a bit faster. His strokes are becoming more and more erratic and I move my mouth to his ear. He's trying hard to hold on for me.
"Let go, babe. I'm almost there, just let go."
I replace his fingers with my own and his breathes come harsh and loud from his nose as his lips press together then suddenly, he stills and his fingers dig into the fleshy part of my ass as he comes inside me, releasing a deep moan. I sit up just enough to give me the space I need to move my fingers a bit faster, giving myself the last push I need and I fall forward again, muffling my scream against his collarbone while my muscles shiver as I come around him.
I lay atop him with my ear to his chest, drawing in deep breaths and listening to the beating of his heart slow as he calms down. He rolls us to our sides and pulls the heavy blankets over us then strokes his fingers through my hair.
"If that's make-up sex, I'll be sure to start fights more often," I say into the crook of his neck.
He answers me with a giggle that soon becomes a full-blown laugh. My breasts jiggle against his chest with his laughter and I start too until we're both just laughing for the sake of laughing. We don't stop for a few minutes and I give a stuttering sigh, reveling in the warmth of his arms and, finally, getting to sleep in the same bed with him.
Some of you commented in the last chapter's reviews about how being in the RV might start to drive people crazy. Clearly, we're on the same page. But obviously, that can lead to make-up sex and that's one of the best kinds, right? :)
Review if you have a minute!
LA