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BAG BOY
CHAPTER 10
Bagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboy
There is no polite way to describe the next two weeks of my life. Bella and I fucked each other's brains out, plain and simple. It was a blur of fucking, a fucking blur . . . and never the same way twice.
She spiced up my work week with random Nature's Bounty pop-ins to deliver instructions in person or to lure me to her car (it wasn't difficult) for a carryout quickie. She'd text me with quirky little demands (carry out the next order walking backwards, snap the rubber band twenty-one times, hum "Here's To You, Mrs. Robinson" while I bagged, whisper "Bella" over and over while I touched myself) and reward me later for any "cub scavenger hunt points" I'd earned that day. She'd call in delivery orders for the biggest cucumber, the sweetest-smelling peach, tampons (turned out to be a red herring), extra-small condoms (also a red herring), and large condoms with extra ribbing for the lady's pleasure (not a red herring).
On my days off, I'd grab a swim in the morning and pick us up some lunch (a salad for Bella, a sub for me) on my way over, and we'd have all day to kiss and mess around and trade favorite movies (she hated when I called hers "classics") and bands (she hated when I called hers "oldies") and books. We settled into a rhythm for dinner—I'd fire up the grill out back (the gas igniter freaked her out) while she prepped the rest, or if we'd exhausted each other with some particularly acrobatic fucking, we'd order in from her favorite Thai place. I liked eating on her back deck, but if we couldn't keep our hands off each other, we'd just spread the meal across our laps like a picnic on the living room couch. We spent a lot of time on that couch.
I worked through her list of projects, and she continued to insist on paying me. I only agreed so I'd have something to tell my folks about where I'd been spending every second of my time. From the knowing glances I'd catch them shooting each other, I had a feeling Mom and Dad suspected there was "a girl involved," but I didn't volunteer anything, and they were smart enough not to ask a question they didn't want the answer to. I pushed the unofficial curfew just once; it was getting harder and harder to leave Bella's.
The last few nights, she'd called me after exchanging goodnight texts, and we'd talked late into the night. She was genuinely interested in my plans for my future. I soaked up anything and everything she wanted to share about her life. I'd stopped being surprised at how easy our conversations were.
What surprised me was the sex. Obviously, our sex would be insanely hot, so that wasn't the revelation—hell, I felt the heat of that fire even before she laid a hand on me, thanks to her little peep show in the front seat of her Roadster. No, what surprised me was that the horny, cock-tease cougar and her equally horny fuck-toy had nothing on Bella and Edward.
What surprised me was how doing the dishes together made that spot above her belly button taste so much sweeter hours later, how watching her listen to Dream Theater made me want to tear off her headphones and tackle her with kisses, and how our late-night talks brought me the sweetest dreams.
To be at the beck and booty call for the next four weeks of such a woman as Bella Swan would have made me the envy of any man. I had no other responsibilities aside from showing up for work. I was fairly certain life didn't get any sweeter than this.
It should have been enough.
Cougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougar
The calendar marched relentlessly toward that day we'd have to deal with the real world and the fact that there wasn't a place in it for the two of us together, but that day was still a month away. I planned to make the most of our time.
Maybe it wouldn't always be so, but thus far, it was all we could do to get that condom on him before we were joined at the groin. The first fuck du jour was always fast and furious—against the wall, on the floor, over the arm of the couch. The kid had stamina. A high-protein snack and a glass of Coke later, he'd be raring to go again.
My punch list was whittled down to electrical and plumbing issues requiring the services of a trained professional. Everything else, Edward had taken care of without complaint. I had no qualms about summoning him for sex alone, but I could no longer use the odd jobs as my excuse to keep him around after we'd finished fucking. Getting him to stick around for dinner or to watch TV (and I did, more often than not) required an explicit ask—a torture worse than a gyno exam. If Edward noticed my cheeks pink up or that I made a point of issuing the invitation while my back was turned, he never let on.
He only declined once, when his parents insisted on his presence for The Meeting to Discuss Edward's Future, the Sequel. I never asked what Edward told his parents about me, and he didn't volunteer the information. We both knew I wasn't the kind of girl his folks were hoping he'd bring home.
I stopped attempting casual encounters with Edward at the store; I didn't trust myself not to give us away. Tanya suspected; we didn't need to leave any more breadcrumbs. Our world narrowed to one location: my house. Granted, that one location wasn't tiny. Thanks to my dumbass, cheating husband and the pit bulls at Volturi & Sons, I had the run of a sizeable Beverly Hills mansion in which to do all the nasty things to Edward that needed doing in privacy.
It was enough . . . until one day, it wasn't.
Tucked in front of Edward's naked body, stretched along the length of the couch, we'd watched the last three episodes of The Punisher while evening had slipped into night. As the credits started to roll, I felt Edward pull a deep breath into his lungs. The Netflix countdown to the next episode popped up in the corner, a time bomb ticking away to the moment of truth. Will we or won't we? Edward didn't want to leave, and I didn't want him to, but that didn't change a thing.
"Should we dive right into season two?" he'd asked with a hopeful lilt.
I leaned back against his warm body, tugging his arm tighter around my waist. "Thanks, but I think I've had all the punishing I can handle for one night."
A soft laugh rattled his chest against my back. "But Frank got his happy ending."
I huffed. "You got the happy ending; what Frank got was revenge. And thank you very much, I might never go near a mirror again." A shiver tore through me at the memory of the gruesome final scene.
"Fair enough. I should probably leave before I fall asleep right here." He yawned as if to prove his point. I yawned too. He dropped a soft kiss on my shoulder and slipped out from under the blanket. "Don't get up. I can see myself out."
I snuggled into the couch like a dog curling up inside a sunbeam, happy as one, too, with my front row seat for Edward's reverse strip show. The intimacy of watching him put his clothes back on totally took me by surprise. Crumpled shirt untucked, tie dangling from both sides of his open collar, he met my gaze as if he'd read my thoughts.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Same time, same channel, different delivery order."
He nodded, forced a smile, and turned to go. Before reaching the door, he paused and turned back. "Hey, I was wondering . . . would you ever want to go for a hike in the canyon or something?"
A hike? All hope faded from his expression as he took in my response.
"Never mind," he said quickly, before I had the chance to reject him. "It was a crazy idea. Forget I mentioned it. Bye, Bella." He slipped out the door, leaving me more alone than I'd felt in months.
Groaning, I rolled over to face the back of the couch, nestling into the groove his body had just left in the cushions. Was the idea of going out in public together so outlandish? What were the chances anyone either of us knew would see us? It's not as if he'd asked me to take him along to my yoga class.
That visual popped into my head and stayed longer than it had a right to: showing up at the gym with a geared-out Edward—a mile of spandex compression pants stretched tight over those long legs and yummy package and a tank top that showed off his edible shoulders and pretty arms—then peeking while he moved through his poses, and yes, if I were being honest, basking in the warm glow of his attention on me, or . . . crap . . . would he be distracted by the ladies who seemed hell-bent on shaking their chakras like a mating call the second a male instructor walked into the studio? Poof! Bye-bye, fantasy.
I am so not a sharer. Why would I want to bring my cub into the candy store when I could have him all to myself for the next four weeks?
~#~#~
I may have gone a bit overboard the next day.
He texted me at six. About to punch out. No groceries tonight?
Nope, just you.
A predictable twelve minutes later, the doorbell rang, and before I could reach the door, he tried the locked knob. Not tonight, cub.
He shuffled two steps backwards as I pulled the door open, and a soft, "Wow," left his lips.
Yeah, I'd fussed, and his reaction was worth every second. Makeup, curls, blingy earrings, a black halter-top dress with a peek-a-boo cutout at the cleavage, and a pair of sexy heels that put our eyes on the same level even if he hadn't consciously noticed them yet.
Nor did I notice the flowers until he blinked away his bedazzlement and offered me the trio of bright sunflowers wrapped in cellophane. "For you," he said. "Wow, Bella, you look amazing. I mean, you always look amazing, but . . ." His gaze dropped to my boobs, and he gave his head an adorable shake.
"How about you get inside so I can thank you properly for these flowers?"
His eyes went from bulging wonder to bedroom smolder as he passed over the threshold. Our lips met before I kicked the door shut, and he pulled me into a tight hug, flowers pressed to my back. His free hand glided downward and came to a polite stop at the base of my spine, but there was nothing polite about the hard knot behind his zipper pressing up against my dress. His tongue slid over mine, a delicious prelude to more.
He had every right to believe I was going to rip off his clothes right then and there. Not tonight, cub.
I pulled back from the kiss, giving him a chance to take in the music, the candles glowing all around the living room, and the smells wafting from the kitchen. His expression flickered between curiosity and delight, unsure where to land.
"Did I forget my birthday?" he asked with a grin that immediately flattened. "Or yours?"
I placed my palm over his heart. "We don't need to talk about my birthdays, and I'm embarrassed to say I never asked when yours is."
"June twentieth. You've got some time." Twenty-two on six-twenty. And he'd be well gone by then. Would I even know where to send a card? "So, what is all this?" he asked, drawing me from the rabbit hole.
What was this? Fair question, cub. An apology. A seduction. A bringing of the canyon to Mohammed.
"I thought you deserved a special treat. Want to put those in a vase for me while I make you a drink?"
"Sure." He didn't seem totally satisfied with the answer but knew when to leave it alone; I'd trained this one well.
"I opened a bottle of pinot noir to go with the chicken. I can pour you a glass, or would you like to start with a cocktail?"
"What are you drinking?"
"Vodka, rocks."
"Sounds good."
I heard the opening and closing of the kitchen cabinet and the running of water as I poured our drinks. When I returned to the kitchen, Edward was attempting to arrange the flower petals to face out from the center. The long stems and big floppy heads weren't cooperating, but it was sweet as hell how hard he was trying. I handed him his drink, and we studied the flowers together.
"I think you better do this part," he said, half-frowning as he passed a dismissive wave over his work.
I huffed out a chuckle. "Why do you think I always ask you to do it?"
He turned his gaze and stared at my profile as if watching Superman turn back into Clark Kent. I extended my drink and clinked against his. "To a dinner date at home."
He held my gaze as we took our first sips. "I wish you would have told me we were going fancy tonight. I could have spiffed up a little."
"You're perfectly spiffed." I ran my fingers through his end-of-the-workday hair. He held still, but his mouth opened slightly as my fingernails scratched along his scalp. I knew he loved that. "I set the table outside. Come on, I'm sure you're starved."
~#~#~
"Wow, Bella, that was the best peach melba I've ever had."
I didn't want to call him out, but I would've bet my last dollar it was also the first peach melba he'd ever had. "Want some more ice cream?"
He set down the dish he'd scraped clean with his spoon and put a hand over his belly. "No thanks, I'm stuffed." He leaned back with a sigh that was almost a yawn, and his head flopped against the back of his chair like a sunflower too heavy for its stem.
I rose from my seat and climbed onto his lap. "Too tired for me?"
"Never," he said, curling his lips into a smile as he pulled me toward him for a kiss. His lips were cool from the ice cream and tangy from the wine.
I wanted more, but I wasn't about to give the neighbors a show. "Would you help me bring the dishes inside?"
He snapped right out of his food coma. We filled our arms with plates and glasses, managing everything in one trip. I stacked the dishes in the sink and drew Edward by the hand into the living room. The candles were still flickering, and Pandora was still floating through the speakers.
We took turns peeling off each other's clothing, touching and kissing as we'd enjoyed our meal—slowly, deliberately, savoring each new taste. Naked, we ended up in a gentle sway, our arms wrapped around each other. I loved our hard and fast fucking, but this was a lovely change of pace. Goddamn, he was sweet and so fucking hot at the same time.
"Bella," he murmured into my ear, "can I ask you something?"
Even dulled by vodka and wine, my antennae went up. "Okay?" If he pressed again about the hike, I was going to be bummed.
"Would it be okay if I stay here tonight?"
"Don't worry. I'm not going to let you drive home. I'll call you an Uber later, and you can pick up your car tomorrow."
"Thanks, but . . . it's not just that I've been drinking. You know I have tomorrow off, and—"
"Whoa."
He had to have felt me go stiff in his arms. Overnight was a big deal. Where had he gotten the idea we were ready for a huge step like that?
You know where. Those damn cookies, candles, music, romance . . . I'd slipped up, and now he was confused.
I'd messed up before—with Riley, my very first cub, my rebound cub. Oh, was he pretty with his dazzling, blue eyes and dirty blond, shoulder-length mop. Look up "surfer dude" in the dictionary and there he'd be, staring up from the page with that big, sexy grin. He'd been a loyal cub, following me around like a hungry stray chasing after a fat steak. His devotion had been a heady rush, to say the least, especially after Jake had tossed me aside for a younger, sluttier model. I'd messed up and led Riley on, not meaning to. Nearly broke that kid in two when I finally summoned up the courage to cut him free. Sigh. I hated myself for a long time afterwards for hurting him that way, but what the hell was I gonna do with an eighteen-year-old surfer boy once the sex was over? Kid couldn't rub two words together. Such a goddamn waste, but dragging it out wouldn't have been fair to either of us, especially him.
Since then, I'd resolved to be more careful, to keep my feelings out of it, to neither give false hope nor delude myself that we were about anything other than sex. And clearly, I'd failed again.
". . . it's no big deal," he was saying, but his words didn't match the hurt in his voice. "I just thought . . . never mind."
He attempted to pick up where we'd left off, scratching soft patterns along my back as he rocked us to some too-sad song. I pretended to be okay, too, but there was way too much thinking going on to reclaim the sexy moment.
"Edward, I'm sorry."
It was his turn to freeze. I wriggled out of his embrace, clasping his hands as they slid off my arms.
"For what? Not wanting me to spend the night?"
"It's not that I don't want you to . . ." God, how I wanted to bring his warmth, his laughter and light to my bed, to wake up next to him in the morning. "I just . . . have certain . . ."
"Rules?" His jaw clenched with barely contained frustration.
"Yes," I whispered. "I don't expect you to understand."
A dark chuckle escaped him, sending a shiver down my spine. "Of course you don't. I'm just a dumb kid."
"No! That's not . . . you're not . . ."
"Well, I must be, because here I was, thinking maybe you cared about me."
"I do care about you. More than I—"
"—you should. Right." He fought with his emotions, then shook his head like a dog after a swim. "Dammit, I promised myself I wouldn't do this. I'm sorry, Bella. I need to go." He pulled his hands away and bent to pick up his clothes.
My heart banged around inside my chest. "Wait! Would you slow down a second, please?"
If anything, he sped up, stepping into his underwear and slipping the phone from his pants pocket. "If it's still okay, I would like to leave my car here tonight. I can come by early tomorrow to pick it up."
"Edward, please." I covered his hands to stop him from ordering the Uber. "Don't leave like this. Let's talk about it."
"What is there to say, Bella?" He shot me a look riddled with pain. "I get that I'm just the guy at the other end of the booty call. Don't get me wrong; I have loved every minute of it. Truly. I mean, how fucking lucky am I, a college dropout, minimum-wage lowlife, getting my knob polished by a drop-dead gorgeous sex goddess who could have any man she wanted, and with no strings attached?" He paused for a breath and to push his fingers through his hair. "I'd have to be some kind of world class jackass to question my good fortune, right?"
I'd never seen him so worked up. He'd certainly never spoken this way to me before, but then, I'd never invited him to share his feelings about our little arrangement. I had no choice now but to hear him out, as painful as it was.
"Look, Bella," he said softly, more sadness than anger in his tone, "I'm not as naïve as you think. I get what this evening was supposed to be—the dinner date we'll never have. I know we're not a couple, and I'm not the dream date you want to trot out in public. I can't honestly say I blame you. It would be problematic, obviously, to be seen together by anyone we know."
I felt myself nodding, relieved he at least agreed with me about that.
"You've set the rules from the very beginning, and I've never once challenged your limits. I came here tonight, fully prepared to accept that this"—he gestured between us with the hand I wasn't holding—"'relationship,' or whatever it is, can only live inside the walls of this magical castle."
What a colorful way of accusing me of holding him under house arrest.
"But now, I learn there's a new twist, no overnight stays at Casa Bella. It's not just being seen in public with me that freaks you out, is it, Bella?"
I couldn't deny the truth in what he was saying. "No."
He rewarded my honesty with a gentle smile and a soft huff. "Well, fuck. Sucks to be right."
"Edward, I hope you know I think you're amazing."
"Sure—at stripping furniture and fucking. Because clearly that's all I'm good for."
The tears soaked my cheeks before I realized they'd started to fall. Afraid to let go of Edward's hand, I swiped my right hand over both cheeks. "That's so not true. We've only got a few weeks left before you have to go. I just wanted to keep things light between us."
"And how's that working out for you, Bella?"
"Pretty well until tonight, I thought." I hoped he would share a chuckle with me, but his mouth flattened into a hard line.
"Well, I'm sorry to spoil your game, but it's not enough for me anymore." He threw his head back and swore at the ceiling. "Shit. I will probably look back on this moment as the biggest regret of my life, but I can't keep denying my feelings for you. If you're not on the same page, I think you better give this rubber band to the next cub in line."
That was no idle threat; I was about to lose him. The least I could do was tell him the truth.
"Okay, yes, I'll admit this may have started out as a game, but of course I have feelings for you, too."
"But not enough to really let me in."
God, how I wanted to surrender to his beautiful dream, but the price for that kind of pleasure was so high . . . too high. "Oh, Edward. What would be the point in letting ourselves go down that road only to say goodbye?"
"Do you honestly believe it will hurt less at the end if we just pretend we mean nothing to each other? SoCal Edison could power a small city for a year with the electricity between us. Yes, I'm leaving for school in twenty-five days, and this insanely hot, best-thing-that-ever-happened-to-me will have to come to an end. On that sad day, we'll deal with our goodbyes, but until that day comes, I am all in, Bella."
"What does that even look like?" Make me believe, cub.
Cupping his hand around the back of my neck, he bent to drop a soft kiss on my forehead. I felt his mouth moving against my forehead as he painted me a picture of what was in his heart. "I want to take you upstairs right now and finish what we started in your bed. I want to fall asleep with our naked bodies tangled together like a giant pretzel and be able to reach over in the middle of the night and play with your nipples any time I want while the rest of you sleeps. I want to wake up next to you with my morning wood nestled between your butt cheeks and see where that takes us. I want to drink my first cup of coffee of the day in your kitchen while you sit across from me at the counter wearing my shirt completely unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to your elbows. And after breakfast, I want to carry you back to bed and start all over again. After that . . . we'll see, I guess."
So that was that. He'd shared a beautiful vision, but it was a clear ultimatum: either I accept his terms, or he was going to turn in his rubber band wrist tracker and walk out of here a free man. Neither of us moved a muscle as his challenge wrapped its tentacles around my chest and squeezed the breath right out of my lungs.
I wanted what he wanted, but I was old enough and wise enough to know better. Fuck, this was going to hurt like hell.
"Then, I guess you better tell your folks you won't be coming home tonight."
He jerked away to meet my gaze, his eyes wild and blazing. "Really?"
"Unless you're planning to watch me sleep, because that's a hard limit."
The smile broke across his face. "Not gonna lie, I was thinking about it."
"Ugh, that's just creepy."
"I suppose I could skip that part if it's a deal breaker."
"Go send your message, cub. I've got three dozen votives to blow out before I can go upstairs."
"Promise you won't wear out your mouth?" He pressed his giant smile to my lips and gave me a most enthusiastic kiss.
"My god, you're dangerous."
"Said the cougar to the cub," he said with a chuckle.
Bagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboy
"You know what I really want to do to you?"
Curled naked against the side of my body, Bella snorted. "There's something you haven't done to me?"
I pulled her nipple between my fingertips until she squealed. She mock-punched me in the belly. If not for the stab of her fist, I might have been tempted to pinch myself. It still felt like a dream, especially this past week since she'd started sharing her bed with me.
Who the hell would've predicted I'd be lying in the bed of my hot, insatiable Beverly Hillbilly lover after mind-blowing anal? Hell, all I had to do was hint at a desire, and the woman made it come true. My life had become one long wet dream I sincerely hoped I would never wake from, especially now that she'd pretty much dropped the pretense that she didn't want me as much as I wanted her.
"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me"—God, I was getting cocky around her—"I've been thinking about something I want to try."
She shifted, lifting her soft brown eyes to meet my gaze. "Okay?"
I cupped her cheek with my hand. My god, she was gorgeous, especially like this: not a shred of clothing between us, no more games. "I want to tie you up."
She blinked up at me, utterly unreadable. I swept my thumb around her chin and tried to wait patiently for her answer. Instead, she gave me a question. "Why?"
I chuckled. "I thought it was obvious."
She wriggled out of my arms. Uh-oh. "Humor me."
"Okay . . ." I sat up beside her against the upholstered headboard and intertwined my fingers with hers. "I want to have you at my mercy, for once."
Her gaze fell away, a soft smile edging up the corners of her mouth. She jiggled our joined hands. "You don't think I'm already at your mercy? Do you think I let just anyone in the back door?"
I leaned in and kissed her because, fuck yeah, I appreciated that. "Have I mentioned that was awesome?" I murmured against her lips.
"You did," she murmured back, her grin breaking our kiss. I loved it when she was soft and sweet like this, usually right after an earth-shattering orgasm. "You know I'm pretty much up for anything you want to try," she said. "Why do you feel the need to tie me up?"
I shrugged. Not that I didn't know—I'd given considerable thought to what I could do to a bound, spread-eagle Bella—but how much to say out loud? I wasn't sure Bella was capable of giving up control, and I didn't want to give her a reason to say no. I also didn't want to give her some lame-ass "because it would be fun" answer. She was better than that. We were better than that.
"I guess . . . I want to take care of you. To make all the decisions so you don't have to. To give you a chance to just . . . let go, for a change. Does that make sense?"
"Of course it does. That's very sweet, Edward." She pulled our joined hands to my chest and brushed her knuckles across my skin. I could tell her mind was racing on this. "You know, we can do all that without you tying me up."
Suddenly, I wished I hadn't started this conversation in the stone cold light of day. Maybe whatever she wasn't saying could have been more easily whispered in the dark across a pillow. And maybe I should've dropped the subject right there, but the more she resisted, the more I wanted it.
"Bella, did you have a bad experience with bondage?" I asked. "Because I definitely don't mean to push if it's a bad topic . . ."
"No," she said, "because I've never let anyone do it to me." Okay, then.
I swallowed hard before responding. "I can only tell you as the, uh, 'tie-ee,' it's an incredible feeling to be locked in like that and completely at someone else's mercy. I would really love to give you that experience."
She raised her eyebrows at me. "And give yourself the experience of being able to do whatever you want to me?"
"Oh, hell yeah," I answered without a shred of apology.
She huffed out a soft chuckle. "At least you're being honest."
"Isn't that kind of the point—for both people to enjoy themselves? You seemed to enjoy being able to do whatever you wanted to me when I was the one bound to your massage table."
"Very true." For a flicker of a second, that sadistic domme cock-tease made an appearance behind her eyes. "If we both enjoyed having you bound spread-eagle so much, why don't we do more of that?"
It would have been easy to give in and drop the whole thing right there. Truth is, I would have been perfectly content with Mistress Bella working her wicked ways on me, and I know Bella would have enjoyed that too. But I wasn't quite ready to let go, not until I'd named what I really wanted . . . and what was really scaring her.
"Oh, I would definitely be up for more of that . . ."
"But?"
I angled my body toward her, my shoulder pressed against the headboard. "I guess the bottom line is I want to really feel your trust."
A shadow crossed her expression, some bit of darkness that made her pull her lip between her teeth.
"Is it that scary to trust someone, Bella?" To trust me?
I felt her searching for answers in my eyes, like a doctor shining his bright beam straight to the back of my skull. I could tell she was going to reject me even before she said the words.
"It is," she said, looking as sorry as I felt. "I'm sorry, Edward. It's not you. I'm just not the submissive type."
I was disappointed for a lot of reasons, but I shot her a grin. "Yes, I've kinda noticed that."
We both chuckled. The mood lightened a bit. "I don't know about you, but this girl needs a shower. Then we can see about some dinner, 'kay?"
"Sure."
I watched her fantastic, freshly-fucked ass move across her incredibly opulent boudoir into her insanely luxurious bathroom. A world I'd only glimpsed before in movies was now my daily life. From my minimum wage job to the lifestyles of the rich if not famous.
Don't ruin this very, very good thing. Tying her up wasn't a deal-breaker, more of a frequently occurring fantasy of late, my brain's way of dealing with the power imbalance of our oddly compelling relationship.
A shower would clear my head. With a sigh, I left the comfort of her huge bed, straightening up the sheets so we could mess them up again. I took a leak while Bella finished up in the shower, then fluffed up her towel and held it out for her when she stepped out of the stall.
"Aww, thank you."
"'Course." I wrapped her in the towel and my arms at the same time, and she purred while I rocked her gently from behind. She melted against my chest and shoulders, and I bent to press a kiss behind her ear.
"So, what did you have in mind?" she asked in a voice so timid, I thought I must have misheard her.
"For dinner?"
"For tying me up."
I'm sure she felt my smile against her cheek.
A/N: I hope you're smiling too. Look at Bella go, admitting all those feelings! And now... oh dear, what has she gotten herself into? *wink* Thanks for all your great feedback on the story and their developing (dare I say it?) relationship! I am grateful as ever for your insights and reviews. Mostly, I want to communicate how much I appreciate your patience with this Bella. While I'm on the topic of appreciation, this is a great moment to say a special thank you to chayasara, whose support includes helping me piece together a confusing tangle of events into an organized story even when that task requires multiple readings of the same events in different POV or in a different context. Trust me when I say you do not want to see how this Bag Boy sausage was made! MWAH, CS!
*Because I get so many review questions on their ages, Edward is 21 and Bella is in her mid-30s*
On a personal note, thanks for all the well wishes for TFMU. It's hard to describe the amazing, life-changing experience of reconnecting with longtime fandom friends and "meeting friends" for the first time in person. Let me just say I was moved to tears many, many times... and half of those came while laughing. There are so many amazing authors still writing fanfic, and while naming names is always problematic, you cannot go wrong with planetblue, LayAtHomeMom, QuantumFizzx, or shouldbecleaning.
Next June in Austin (and Chicago this October)!
XOXO
~BOH