I stapled the last piece into the back rail of the chair and sat back. It was done. I stood up, slipped the cushion into place, and cast a critical eye over Edward's chair. The plaids lined up well, the lines were clean. We had polished all the tacks and they gleamed under the light. The ottoman was done, and my box pleats were sharp, the corners tight. It looked great.

I shoved the chair back into the corner and smiled. Edward would love it. He had received a call from the hospital with an emergency that he could handle from home, so he'd been downstairs working on it for over an hour, giving me lots of time to complete the chair. I could hardly wait to see his reaction. I reached in the bag and grabbed one last item he hadn't seen, draping the new, fluffy blanket over the corner of the chair.

Now his reading spot was perfect.

I started to tidy up, when I got dizzy. I sat down, shaking my head to clear it. I must have gotten up too fast. It passed in a moment, and I carefully gathered up the rest of the things I had been using, setting aside some pieces I wanted to use later. Hearing Edward's tread on the stairs I stood back, waiting. He rounded the corner, already apologizing and stopped when he saw our project was complete.

"Oh, love," he breathed out. "It's…amazing!"

He came forward, running his hand along the arch of the back and the arms.

"Sit in it," I urged.

He sat down, bouncing lightly. Lifting his legs, he crossed them on the ottoman. He beamed at me. "Almost perfect."

I frowned. "Almost?"

With a grin, he tugged me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. "Now, it is perfect."

I giggled and snuggled up to him, being careful to stay away from his incision area. Not that he seemed worried about it at all. We'd made love again this morning, slow and gentle, his hands and mouth teasing and caressing. All day he'd been extra affectionate, using every opportunity to kiss and hold me. He'd tuck my hair behind my ear, kiss my hand or cheek, nuzzle his face into my neck, or I'd catch him simply gazing at me with a soft smile curling the corners of his lips. He'd smile even wider when I would roll my eyes and look away, blushing the whole time. He'd referred to me as "love" all morning, not once calling me Bella.

I loved every second of it.

"I want to take you on this chair," he murmured against my neck.

"Um…"

He chuckled. "Not today. I'll wait until the pain is completely gone." He tugged at my ponytail. "But I will have you here—and soon."

"Okay," I whispered, grinning up at him.

He ran his thumb under my eye. "Are you all right, love? You look a little tired. And rather pale."

I arched my eyebrow at him. "Well, perhaps the fact you made love to me in the night and again this morning has something to do with me looking a 'little tired.' And it's warm up here, so I was a bit lightheaded. But I'm fine."

He frowned. "I have the temperature really low. It's quite cool, actually." He felt my forehead. "I hope you're not getting sick."

I shook my head. "No, I was working hard to get done, but I feel fine now. I am thirsty, though."

"Okay. How about lunch and a nap?"

"Isn't that my line?"

He grinned. "Ah, but this time I want to get you back into bed."

Rolling my eyes, I stood up, swaying a little on my feet. Edward jumped up, grabbing my arm. "Okay. Now I'm serious. You need to eat and then we're lying down."

I didn't argue. I was thirsty and tired, and regardless of what he said—the room felt warm.

~o0o~

I did feel better after I ate something, but Edward insisted on a nap. Although I had protested, by the time he followed me upstairs, I was already asleep. I had to admit, I felt much better when I woke up. He was beside me, angled toward me in the bed, his arm draped across my stomach. Reaching up, I played with his hair, smiling as he woke, blinking and yawning. He turned, pulling me to his side and nuzzling my neck.

"Okay, love?"

"I'm fine. I guess I should have eaten more breakfast."

"You don't feel dizzy?"

"Nope. In fact, I think we should cut your hair."

"I thought maybe we could just spend the afternoon reading."

I slid off the bed, holding out my hand. "After I cut your hair. It won't take long."

He grabbed my hand and let me pull him off the bed. "Bossy little thing, aren't you?"

"Yep." I shivered. "How low do you have the thermostat, Edward?"

"It's the same temperature as before. Are you sure you're not getting sick?"

"No, I'm not. But it is cool."

He chuckled and went to his closet, coming back with an item and handing it to me, looking sheepish. "Here."

"My sweater!"

"You, ah, left it in my office that day." He shuffled his feet. "I saved it for you."

My cheeks flooded with color as I remembered that day. Pinned against the door of his office, the look in his eye. How it felt when he tugged off my sweater. How much I wanted him. I winked at him. "At least Mrs. Cope won't be interrupting us today."

He stepped forward, a smirk playing on his full lips. "Interrupting what…exactly?"

"Me cutting your hair."

His face fell, then he laughed. "Tease."

I laughed with him. I loved hearing his laugh.

"Okay," he agreed. "Let's do this."

~o0o~

"Stop squirming," I chided gently. "I don't want to make a mistake."

Edward groaned.

I looked down at him, concerned. "Are you in pain?"

He shut his eyes. "Not in the way you think."

"I don't…" My voice trailed off as his hand slid up the back of my leg, slipping under my shorts and cupping the swell of my ass.

"Edward!"

He cracked an eye open and grinned. "Sorry, love. When you're this close, all I can think of is how to get you closer"—he waggled his eyebrows at me—"and naked."

I couldn't stop the giggle that burst out of my lips. "You're supposed to be recovering."

"I think I showed you I was pretty recovered earlier."

"Not recovered enough for me to ride you in that chair."

His eyes narrowed as he stared at me, licking his lips. "You'd…you'd do that?"

Leaning down, I pressed my mouth to his, slipping my tongue in and kissing him. The hand on my ass tightened, dragging me closer, a low growl rippling in his chest.

Smiling, I drew back. "One day. Now, behave, Edward."

He pouted. "You could cut it later."

"It's almost done."

He sighed. "Fine."

For a moment there was only the sound of the comb sliding through and the snip of the scissors cutting his wet hair. Then his hand was back, touching me.

I rolled my eyes. "What do I have to do to get you to behave?"

"Are you still cold?"

"No."

"Lose the sweater."

I shrugged the sweater off my shoulders and tossed it on the counter. "Better?"

He fingered the bottom of my T-shirt, looking up at me, his eyes dark. I inhaled a fast gulp of air, and in one move, tugged the shirt over my head.

Edward slid one finger across my stomach, slipping it under the waistband of my shorts—back and forth in a lazy, gentle caress. His finger trailed up, drifting across my lace covered breasts. He leaned forward kissing the skin over my bellybutton. "Beautiful," he murmured. He leaned back, shutting his eyes. "Carry on, love."

I stifled my groan. He called me a tease. He didn't play fair. I drew in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds to calm myself. I cut more of his hair with hands that were surprisingly steady, considering inside I was already a mass of quivering nerves. How he could turn me on so fast with only a look and a simple touch, I had no idea. But he could. I moved in front of him, pushing his knees apart and standing between them. "I have to do the top back of your hair. I need you to lean forward."

"I need you to drop your shorts," he whispered.

I hesitated.

"Please," he added, dipping his head to my stomach.

"You do it then."

Slowly, he dragged my shorts down, his hands running over my skin. "Lift your foot, baby."

One at a time, I did. He ran his hands back up my legs, leaving them resting on my thighs. He inhaled deeply and pressed a kiss just over my center. "You smell so good."

This time I did whimper. I carefully trimmed the last patch of hair, slipped my hand under his chin, lifting his head, and ran my hands through his hair, checking the cut. "I think it's good."

He wrapped his arms around my legs, drawing me back into his embrace. He rested his face against the bare skin of my stomach, his hands gently rubbing circles on the back of my thighs.

"So soft, Bella. Your skin is so soft."

I moaned when he slipped a hand between my legs, cupping me. "I feel you," he groaned. "I can feel how much you want me right now." He lowered his head, kissing me, a light, teasing caress. "I can smell how much you want me."

My hands tightened on his shoulders. His fingers slid deeper, stroking. He twisted his knee between my legs, pushing lightly. "Open for me, baby."

Shaking, I did what he asked, opening myself up to his teasing fingers. His free hand curled around the lace top of my underwear. "These are pretty—but they have to go." He tugged, and the snap of the material giving way only fueled the flames of desire he was building. I gasped his name. He buried his face between my breasts, his breath hot against me.

"I want to taste you, Bella. I want to make you come with my tongue."

All I could do was groan.

He stood, covering my mouth with his, his tongue demanding as he propelled me backward. My ass hit the countertop. He wrapped his hands around my knees, lifting me up, dropping to the floor in one smooth move. I cried out as his mouth replaced his fingers. He licked and sucked. Teased and nibbled. Fast, hard flicks of his tongue were followed with long, sweeping licks and gentle sucks. When he slipped two long fingers inside me, pumping fast, I was done. I climaxed around him, crying out his name, the sound echoing off the porcelain fixtures around us. I hadn't even started to come down, when he stood, and lifted my legs to his shoulders, thrusting inside me. He fell forward, resting his weight on his hands as he took me. It was much like the night in the clinic, intense and powerful, and before I knew what was happening, I began to tighten around him.

"That's it, baby, give it to me," he panted. "Let me see you come for me again."

I arched up, my body taut, too overcome to do anything but ride out the waves of pleasure tearing through me. Edward grunted, hissing my name, slamming his hand on the counter as he came. He cursed, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Gradually, he stilled, opening his eyes, staring down at me, the widest grin on his face.

"Your haircut beat any other haircuts in the entire world, love." He pulled back, lifting me off the cold granite counter, wrapping me in his arms. "You okay?" He kissed my forehead.

I giggled. "I feel a little jellylike." I lifted my head from his chest. "Are you okay?"

He smirked and shrugged his right shoulder. "That, ah... tugged—but, yeah, so fucking worth it."

I shook my head. "You won't be saying that if you rip your stitches and I have to take you to the hospital to get them redone. You shouldn't have lifted me."

He snorted. "You weigh about three pounds. I'm fine. I think we need a shower, though."

He stepped back, offering his hand. I sucked in a fast breath. It was the first time I had seen him upright and naked. He was beautiful. Tall, lean, with muscles all in the right places; his skin pale , with a dusting of reddish hair on his arms, chest, and his lower stomach. I wanted to touch him everywhere. Taste him. I took his hand, squeezing it hard.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked quietly.

"You are so…beautiful," I whispered.

He kissed me. "You're the beautiful one, Bella." He moved away, and I saw the small grimace of pain as he moved.

"No more, Edward. You've had your fill," I admonished him. "After we shower, you're taking some pills and lying down. No arguments."

He followed me into the shower, watching with a tender, amused look as I adjusted the temperature and turned to face him, crossing my arms, waiting for his argument.

He shook his head. "No argument, love."

"Good."

"But know this," he said, smirking. "Just so we are clear—I'll take it easy for the rest of the day, but I have not, nor will I ever, have my 'fill' of you."

He took the soap from my hand. "Understand?"

I nodded; my throat too dry to speak.

He grinned. "Good."

~o0o~

My eyes snapped open in panic. Edward was lying on his side facing me, his arm draped over my waist. "Hey." His voice was gentle and his eyes were soft in the late afternoon light. "I'm here, Bella."

I sighed and stretched. "I can't believe how lazy I'm being."

"I'd hardly call everything you accomplished today being lazy."

I had to laugh. "Well, you, ah, accomplished a lot as well. Far more than I expected you to at this point."

He smirked, looking rather proud. "I keep wearing you out."

I laughed. "You do. But you should be the one tired."

"I slept too. But you jerk awake, as if you're scared." He frowned. "Are you scared or nervous about something?"

"No." I thought it over. "I can't think of anything. Maybe just sleeping in a new place, that's all."

"Makes sense, I suppose. Not used to it?" he asked lightly, but I could tell he wanted to know more about my past.

"No. The last time I slept away from my place was two years ago. I spent the night at my boyfriend's, and we broke up the next day."

"Oh." He stroked my arm. "I'm sorry?"

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. You shared your past with me. It's only fair. Mine is very bland though. We'd been seeing each other for a while. He always spent the night at my place, but this time I went to his. I was making coffee the next morning and his other girlfriend walked in."

"Oh, shit."

I nodded. "I'm not sure who was more shocked." I grinned. "However, I know who suffered the most. She was a black belt in karate. And she wasn't happy. When I left, he was lying on his back, begging for mercy."

He chuckled, then became serious. "You must have been hurt?"

I shrugged. "It was for the best. Our relationship was…" I sighed. "We should have stayed friends. We were comfortable. I was furious at him for cheating, but once I got over that, I realized I wasn't that sad. He hated my need to look after him, and I hated the fact he never needed me. We weren't good together."

"And no one else since?"

"A few dates, but that is it." I looked at him, suddenly feeling shy. "I've never felt this before, Edward. This connection."

"I know. Me either."

I smiled.

"I can't believe you haven't been snapped up, Bella. You're so beautiful. And sweet."

"I could say the same about you."

"Maybe," he mused, leaning over, kissing me. "Maybe we were waiting for each other."

My cheeks flushed with pleasure. "Maybe."

"I think"—he paused—"I think we're pretty perfect together. And so you know, love? I need you."

"I need you, too," I admitted quietly. "I think we're perfect as well."

We lay in silence, just enjoying being close. He stroked my cheek softly.

"How about we order something for dinner—I don't want you cooking."

"Sounds good."

"Do you like Chinese?"

I nodded happily. "My favorite."

He grinned. "Mine too." He stood up and helped me off the bed, wrapping me in his arms. "See—perfect."

~o0o~

We were surrounded by empty containers. I peeked into the last box, grinning when I saw one more egg roll.

Edward shook his head. "I think you beat me tonight, love. You've eaten more than me."

"I was hungry. And I love Chinese."

"I can tell."

"Growing up, we didn't order out much, but if we did this is what we got. It was such a treat."

"You don't talk about your parents much."

I finished my egg roll and set down my plate. "Not much to say, really. My parents were divorced when I was young. I was bounced back and forth between them. Every time my mom found a new guy, she shipped me off to my dad, until she changed her mind—which she did a lot. He tried to take care of me, but his job kept him pretty busy. He was the local chief of police." I explained at Edward's quizzical look. "So I'd go back with her until the next time."

"That must have been rough."

"It was. When I was fifteen, I put my foot down. I refused to go back to my mom and stayed with my dad. I was old enough to look after myself."

"What did your mom do?"

"Went through more boyfriends and a couple husbands." I ran a hand through my hair. "I talk to her on occasion. We're…friendly—we email and chat. She should never have been a mother."

"And your dad?"

"We get along well, but I don't see him too much."

"Why?"

I shifted a little. "He remarried after I left for school, and had two kids with Sue pretty fast. She was never really…big on me—I think I was a reminder he had a life before her. My two little half-brothers are adorable, but I don't know them as well as I would like to."

He picked up my hand, kissing the knuckles. "That's a shame. They're missing out."

I nodded. "I don't like it, but it is how it is. They have their life and I have mine. I go and visit every so often, but that's about it. I get a call once in a while, and a card at Christmas." I smiled sadly. "Neither of us have strong family connections, Edward. Although mine is better than yours." I leaned forward. "But you had that—with your mom. "

"I know."

"Unpack her boxes, Edward. Bring out the things she loved, the things of hers you loved. Let your memories of her live again."

He studied me for a minute. "Okay."

"Tomorrow?"

He drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Tomorrow."

Thank you for reading. See you on the weekend!