Hello to all you lovely readers! Chapter will appear in new glory after dellaterra has been through it.

I do not own Twilight.

Chapter title belongs to Noel Coward ("Ace of Clubs")

Chapter 11: This Could Be True

EDWARD

Getting up at four-thirty the next morning is the hardest thing I've ever done. The room is dark, and Bella is snuggled up to my chest, breathing evenly, holding me close. She didn't even wake from the ghastly shrill of the alarm, just mumbled something unintelligible, and sighed. I'm aware of the huge grin that must be plastered across my face. Last night was another revelation. After I carried her upstairs we made love hungrily until she collapsed on top of me with a soft scream.

After that, we talked and made love again, slower this time. I was completely overwhelmed by her beauty as she moved beneath me, wrapping her legs round my waist, her large dark eyes filled with joy and warmth. I loved the way her cheeks would flush, and how she'd moan my name, over and over again as I sunk myself into her, whispering sweet words.

Fuck, I'm hard even thinking about it.

I carefully disentangle from her arms, and she grumbles in her sleep. I kiss her hair and walk to the shower.

She has curled herself up into a little ball when I return to the bedroom. She set the alarm on her phone last night so I don't need to worry that she might be oversleeping.

I don't want to leave her like that. While I sip my coffee, I write her a note, then sneak back into the bedroom and put it on my pillow. That's when I hear a small, whining noise. At first I think she has woken up, but then I realize she's having a bad dream, whimpering something like, "Don't go…"

I consider waking her up, but her breathing gets more even and I put a small, chaste kiss on the top of her head.

The first few hours at work are hectic with meetings and consultations, and surgery on a young girl suffering from congenital heart defect. It goes well and her parents cry with relief when I get to tell them the good news.

After lunch, while I'm on my way out of the cafeteria, Lauren runs into me, once more suggesting a drink after work.

I think of Bella's large dark eyes and her milky white skin and how her lips made a little O when she came for the third time last night.

I see Lauren's pale eyes and her pink lipstick and her blonde hair flowing around her shoulders.

"Um, well, Lauren," I say as nicely as I can, toying with the red apple I took with me from the lunch buffet. "You know that I like you, and I greatly respect you. As a colleague. But what happened was a one-time thing – I thought we'd agreed on that?"

"But, Edward – "

She touches my arm and I grind my teeth.

"No, Lauren. And besides, there's someo-"

The second the words have left my mouth, I know it was wrong, so, so wrong.

Her eyes take on a different expression, and it isn't heartbroken. It's vindictive.

"Does Tanya know about that?"

Her voice is sickeningly sweet.

Fuck. I forgot that Tanya and Lauren really hit it off the half dozen or so times they met at social functions or hospital parties. I never took into consideration that they might still be in contact. Now that I see Lauren's face, they actually might.

"Look," I say again. "You're a great woman and I really appreciate you as a co-worker. Can we please leave it at that?"

"You're just a decrepit asshole, Edward," she seethes and then turns on her five-inch heels and leaves.

Fuck-tastic.

The afternoon passes slowly with paperwork and visitations. Once there's a free moment, I sneak out of the back entrance, light a cigarette and text Bella.

Hey, beautiful actress. How's your day?

After a moment, my phone beeps in reply.

Rehearsal was a disaster. Director's a jerk. On my way home now.

I check the time. It's just after three. I type another message.

I'll be finished in about 2 hours. Care to come over?

Waiting for her reply, I nervously take a last drag. Maybe she has other things to do, other friends to meet. I can't very well expect her to change her whole life after two days we spent together.

Love to. Be there at 7, okay?

I grin like an idiot, my heart expanding; it's a throbbing, vulnerable, clenching heap of candy cotton.

You wouldn't be able to tell that I'm a cardiac surgeon, I know.

Okay. Can't wait. xxx

xxx

The rest of the afternoon passes agonizingly slowly, and I'm sweetly tortured by images of Bella and flashbacks from last night. And yesterday. And the night before.

By the time I get into the Volvo my pants have been uncomfortably tight for an hour. On my way home, I stop at Gino's Deli and make a number of purchases. As I'm half way through my preparations, the phone rings and I tuck it between my ear and shoulder while setting up my little surprise for Bella, muttering, "Hello?"

"No need to be so grumpy, young man," a well-known voice reprimands me. An immediate smile lights my face.

"Uncle Aro! Hey, old man! How's tricks?"

"I am not old, you little clown. I'm ripe."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I joke. I love that every time we talk, there's this little banter going on. Aro never was one of the grown-ups telling me what was wrong and what was right. He was always at eye level, treating me as an equal.

"So what are you doing?" I ask, arranging a few items so everything will look perfect.

"Ah, nothing. Just fucking around."

"And can I take that literally?"

"You sure can." He laughs a deep belly laugh.

"What's her name?"

"Bunty." He chuckles.

"Bunty? Is that even a name?"

"Picked her up in London. She's a darling, and one hot chick." I can hear him exhale cigar smoke. "And now we've been back from Europe for four weeks and never once did you little fucker deign to call."

Okay, most uncles don't talk that way to their nephews, but it's what Aro is like. He's blunt and, at times, vulgar, and I love him. He's an old school sort of scoundrel, dabbling in various businesses and travelling the world, where he has been engaging in exotic and peculiar love affairs over the past fifty years. Despite his frequent journeys, I can't remember an important day in my life when he wasn't there. As the elder of the two brothers, he also manages our family's heritage in London and New York. That, and the fact that he, the rascal ne'er do well that he is, always had this deep bond with me lies at the bottom of the deep-rooted rivalry and animosity between him and my dad Carlisle.

"So, son. What about you? Any Bunty in your life? Do you have a date yet when you'll be officially free from that psycho-skank you found it clever to marry?"

Aro himself was married six times.

"Sometime in October." I step out onto the terrace and light a cigarette. The sun is setting over New York, the sky wearing a beautiful pink and grey glow.

"Well?" His deep voice reflects the man he is and the life he lived, to its hilt.

"Well, what?" I know exactly what he's getting at. Aro is the one who gave me sex advice when I visited him at seventeen, head over heels in love with my first serious girlfriend, Anna. It was Aro who taught me to treat a woman like a lady at all times. I mean, my parents taught me that, too, obviously, but Esme was not the one to inform me to "never surprise a girl by assuming she will swallow."

"Is there a girl, Edward?"

"Maybe…" I can't hold back the shit-eating grin that spreads over my face.

Aro huffs. "Name?"

"Bella."

"Bella. Nice. Is she? Bella?"

"She's fucking beautiful." Sometimes I think Aro played a part in me adopting his sailor's mouth, as well.

I tell Aro the key features of Bella Swan and he listens and makes appreciative noises. He's just beginning to coax me into visiting him at his house in the Hamptons with her when the doorbell rings.

"I'm sorry, Aro, but I need to go. It's Bella. I'll try and visit soon, okay? Oh, and say hi from me to Bunty."

He roars with laughter and I end the call, hurrying to let my beautiful Bella in.

BELLA

This day was crap. The rehearsal seemed to go really well until Riley came up with that "Bella, you should take your shirt off in that scene" bullshit again. I tried to explain to him, calmly and reasonably, that I don't think the part really calls for it. Big mistake. Riley, who hasn't been talking to his primadonna, Bree, for two days, then found his mission in trying to convince me that I have nothing to be ashamed of. Well, to be precise, "Babe your tits are a fucking knockout" were his exact words. We somehow agreed to postpone this discussion and continue rehearsing. Another big mistake. Riley, who apparently found that I was questioning his authority, needed to prove that he's the boss and came up with a brilliant idea: Act I would end with Garret burying his face in my lap and his hands covering my breasts. In a scene were shy, nerdy Andrei proposes to shy, insecure Natasha. Sure.

I was never happier to end a rehearsal than that one. Not because I particularly mind the breast-touching business, hell, no. I like and respect Garrett, and I know it's a mutual feeling. He's in a happy relationship and I'm head over heels–

In love. Say it, Bella. Out loud.

It's not the touching. It's the fact that he's abusing the power of his position to prove a personal point.

When I exit the subway at Lexington 63rd Street, I'm eager to forget about the day, and even more eager to be inside Edward's arms. It was sad to be waking up in his big bed this morning without him there. He had left the sweetest message, saying how lovely the weekend was, telling me to make myself at home. Still, I missed him and buried my nose in his pillow, inhaling his scent. My heart is virtually frolicking on the way upstairs on the elevator, jumping up and down and rubbing its hands in anticipation.

I'm in love. I'm allowed to make sappy analogies.

Wait.

I.

Am.

In.

Love.

I swallow as the door opens on Edward's floor. I need to take a few deep, steady breaths before I ring the bell. And then, he's there, standing in front of me in all his glory, stubbly jaw and pouty lips, dishevelled hair and beautiful, bare feet.

"Bella!" He beams.

"Hey." I smile shyly. I still can't believe it's me who puts this expression on his face.

Edward pulls me in, and pulls me close, our lips merging in a long, yearning kiss.

"How was your day, beautiful girl?" he finally asks, taking my coat and walking me to the living room.

"Crap. Don't even ask. I'll tell you later. How –" I stop, both my feet and my words stilling as my eyes take in the small area of pure perfection he has created in front of the fireplace, where the burning wood crackles. There's a large, thick blanket with numerous pillows, surrounded by dozens of candles. A cooler with champagne, and a multitude of plates and bowls with food.

"Wow."

For a moment, I'm speechless. After a day of being treated with disrespect, this is so overwhelming that I feel tears spring to my eyes.

"Bell? Are you – I'm sorry, did I –" He takes my hand, his face looks anxious.

"No," I sniffle. "It's perfect, Edward. So perfect. Thank you." I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft and his cheeks are scruffy. His warm, strong body surrounds me as I melt into him, inhaling him and relaxing completely.

Once we're settled on the blanket and propped up against the pillows, Edward opens the champagne and explains every single dish to me. It's from his favourite Italian deli and once we tuck into it, I sigh with joy. There's melon and prosciutto, artichokes, tomato and mozzarella, vitello tonnato… the full monty.

We take turns feeding each other, sipping champagne, and talking easily. Once we're through with the tiramisu, Edward leans back against one of the armchairs and pulls me to his chest, his arms closing around me. I don't know what it is, but his physical proximity relaxes me in a way I have never known. I feel safe. Utterly and completely safe.

He is putting tiny kisses on my temple and cheek while his fingers run up and down my arm.

"Wanna tell me why your day was so shitty?" His breath is warm and soft in my ear, making me shudder.

"It's just that Riley is a creepy guy," I say, not wanting to bore him with the details.

"Why?" He kisses my ear.

"He's always trying to convince me it would be prudent for me to take my shirt off in Act II."

I can feel Edward swallow.

"And will you?"

"No," I say decidedly. "Because it's nonsense."

"I agree." He clears his throat. "I mean, obviously I'm not an actor or a director, but…" He nuzzles my neck with his face.

"Well, when he realized he wasn't getting anywhere he invented this new scenario for Act I where Garrett grabs my boobs when he proposes to me."

I feel Edward stiffen, and not in a good way.

"Don't like that," he says gruffly. "Not at all."

God he's so cute. How do I deserve such a cute boyf-

Wait.

I turn a little in his arms until my lips reach his.

"Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Who says I want to talk," he murmurs against my lips, and we kiss hungrily, our tongues tasting and playing and exploring while our bodies reconnect. We touch and whisper, losing ourselves in the passion that devours us.

We undress each other slowly until we're both bare, Edward's lips ghosting over my body, nibbling and licking and sucking until I'm moaning with pleasure, touching every bit of his skin I can reach, revelling in the sensation of his soft skin and flexing muscles.

"Baby," he whispers as his tongue skims my bellybutton. "You have no idea how beautiful you are…"

His fingers travel between my thighs, teasing my wetness, running up and down, applying pressure where I need it most.

"Edward…"

His face is above mine, our eyes locked as he enters me with one finger, making me gasp.

"Good?" he rasps.

"So… good…" I squirm when he enters a second one. He licks over my lips and continues. In and out, in and out, gentle pressure on my clit.

"Edward…"

I want him inside me.

He knows that, I am sure, and never stops what he is doing.

"Yeah." His voice is hoarse.

"Please…"

"Yes?"

Bastard. He knows exactly what I want.

"Please… This is torture…"

"What do you want?"

Green, devilish eyes.

"You know what I want."

"Do I?"

In and out. Slow and deep.

"Yes… ah… you… you do…"

I shudder

"Then say it."

"Ed – Edward…"

"Say it, or I won't do it."

"Ah…" I moan. "Please."

"Say it."

"Fuck me."

"Fuck, Isabella…" He not so gently bites my neck, then rummages the back pocket of his jeans.

The scheming bastard planned this!

At least I hope he isn't carrying condoms in his pants on a regular basis…

"Fuck!" I yell when he enters me forcefully.

"Yeah, baby," he murmurs thickly. "That's what I'm gonna do… Fuck you nice and slow… and then hard and fast…"

And he does, and it's divine.

After all the teasing and build-up, I'm falling apart soon, clenching around him as I float away on waves of pleasure.

"God, Isabella," he moans. "You're beautiful when you come…"

I'm slowly getting down from my high and twine my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He groans at the deeper access. Again, we look at each other, kissing deeply in between. He's gorgeous in his rapture, all aglow and alive, sweaty and messed-up. He's pushing even deeper, his face contorted with pleasure as he kisses my face.

"Baby…" Our breaths are one. "I don't think I…"

And then I do something I've never done, initially, before. I take his hand and guide it between us. He understands, caressing me as if I'd handed him a manual of my body. I'm stammering his name after a minute, Edward buries himself deep inside me and we come almost together, moaning in the joy we're giving each other.

EDWARD

I wake in the middle of the night, my mind lazy and muddled with sleep until I realize it's Bella next to me, her small body enveloped by mine, her back pressed against my chest. She's tiny and warm and soft, her girly smell melting my insides.

And she's whimpering in her sleep, but it's so soft I notice it only now. She's hardly moving, but restless and tense all the same. Carefully, I touch her forehead; she's drowned in sweat.

What is it, torturing my Bella in her dreams?

That's when she starts talking, and it's something like, "No… go… don't… go…"

She shudders and then lets out a deep sigh. She calms then.

And when I never expect to hear anything more, when I'm drifting off to sleep, I hear her; clearly.

"Edward."

The next day passes in a blur.

Visitation and too much paperwork. Around noon, I call Bella who I had to leave, again, sleeping peacefully in the early morning hours.

"Hey, you." She sounds cheerful.

"Hey, sweet actress. What are you doing?"

"Having lunch with Garrett and Benita." She giggles. "And we're plotting the downfall of Mr. Riley Biers, director of directors."

Her laugh literally warms my heart.

"Okay," I chuckle. "Is this enterprise open to donations?"

"Well, what sum did you have in mind, Dr. Cullen?"

"Um… ten thousand?"

"I guess that's acceptable."

"Good."

I put out the cigarette I've been smoking.

"We're still on for tonight, aren't we?"

I try to not sound too nervous.

"Of course!" There's a small silence. "There's just…"

"Just?"

"I was thinking of bringing them a bottle of wine. Alice told me the other day they're into that. But I have no idea what to buy…"

God, she's so sweet.

"Tell you what. I get a bottle from both of us."

"Meaning?" Her voice is a little tense.

"Meaning that it will be from you and me."

"But I get to give you the money, right?"

I close my eyes for a second.

"Of course. If you want to."

"Yes," she says. "I want to."

Happily, we finish the conversation on a much nicer note and we agree that I'll catch her at her house at six-thirty.

Dinner at Alice and Jasper's is much easier than I feared it might be. Alice keeps from asking about the state of our relationship, and I'm certain Jasper has a hand in that. We talk easily about Bella and Alice's play, the book Jasper's currently working on, about Rose and Emmett, films recently seen and the state of the world in general.

Bella looks so fucking sexy in her little dress that I can barely manage to keep my hands off her, settling for a palm on her thigh under the table.

"Bella!" Alice pipes up after we're through the dessert. "Would you like to see the sketches I made for your dress in Act IV?"

Bella and I exchange a quick glance since it's obvious Alice just wants a chance to talk to her alone. She shrugs.

"Yes, of course."

They leave the room, and I'm alone with Jasper.

He pours us both another glass of Tempranillo and then his wise grey eyes rest on me. With him, I'm always aware of the fact that he's almost ten years older than I am. He is calm, and studious, and so fucking… mature.

"Things between you and Bella seem pretty serious," he remarks, swirling the two hundred dollar wine in his glass.

I think it's pretentious.

"Yes. "

"She's a wonderful woman."

"She is," I say, my voice getting terser.

Jasper eyes me over the table, looking like an owl.

"She's quite young, though, don't you think?"

Ah, now I get it. Alice set him up to this, probably worried I'll be making the same mistake a second time.

"She's not twenty, if that's what you mean. She's nothing like Tanya."

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Still, almost ten years younger than you."

He's not serious, is he?

"You're like, what, eight years older than my sister?"

"Seven. "

"So what's your point?"

I like Jasper, he's my brother-in-law for all intents and purposes, but sometimes he gets on my nerves with his fucking self-assurance and calm and air of superiority.

"Just making sure you're not doing anything stupid, Edward. She appears to be a beautiful, yet fragile spirit."

"My intentions, Sir Jasper de Whitlock," I say testily, "are of the purest kind."

Really. First Aro with all the questioning, and now Jazz? Get off my dick, people.

Well, maybe they don't want me to fuck up again. Maybe they're concerned about me.

"Sorry," I say, running a hand through my hair. " I… Bella… She's…"

I stammer away while Jasper's lips pull up into a warm, genuine smile, and once more, I understand why my sister's been with him for the past ten years.

"I know, Edward," he says. "Just… be careful, will you?"

For some reason I don't think he's referring to protection.

BELLA

I'm warm. And relaxed. And a small pile of goo. All due to the intense lovemaking that just happened – twice – in Edward's bed.

The evening at Alice and Jasper's was interesting, especially after Alice dragged me into her studio under the pretence of showing me her new sketches. In reality, she wanted to question me about the state of relations between Edward and me. We had a longish conversation, which ended with Alice hugging me, telling me I'd "brought her brother to life again."

Now, my head is resting on Edward's chest and he's running his fingers up and down my spine. We're both spent, and happy.

Edward is planting tiny kisses on my hair and I'm about to drowse off when he says, "Bella?"

"Mmm-hmm?" I reply sleepily.

"Um… I've been thinking. About something."

Something about his tone wakes me up again. I scramble upward and prop myself up on my elbow.

"Yes?"

"You know when…" He swallows, scratching his ear. "When you told me about that jerk of a director last night?"

"Uh-huh."

He furrows his brows.

"And… when he did that thing…"

"What thing, Edward?"

He swallows again, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"When he made that guy… Garrett… touch your breasts."

I raise my brows, urging him to go on.

"Bella?"

"Edward?"

"I don't want anyone but me to touch your breasts."

He looks adorable; cute and embarrassed and self-conscious.

I look into his eyes.

"I don't want anyone but you to touch my breasts, either."

"Oh."

Can I have an Edward to go, please?

He tickles the back of my neck. His eyes are warm and placid.

"And… um, would that remark entitle that this –" He motions between us. "Is an exclusive kind of thing?"

"I hope so," I murmur.

"And…" He licks his lips. "Would that mean that I got to call you my girlfriend?"

For a second, I feel panicky, and it's too soon, but the moment I look into his deep, honest, green eyes, there's nothing I want more.

"If that means I get to call you my boyfriend," I reply.

With that, our bodies melt once more, and it's otherworldly, full of love and warmth and need and trust.

While I'm drowsing off, exhausted beyond words, I think about it. Three weeks ago, I was lost and lonely in a strange city, the only male being in my life, besides Dad and Seth of course, a large orange tomcat. Now, I'm falling asleep between five hundred dollar sheets in a bedroom that's the size of my apartment. But, more important than that, I'm secure. In the arms of my boyfriend. Who is snoring softly.

Thank you for reading, pu-lease leave a review if you liked it!

I have a question: is there anyone out there who knows about the procedure of a divorce in NY? I've done a lot of research, but hearing the practical details would help. PM me if you can help out!