Edward's phone rang, the harsh tone making him jump. If it was anybody else he would have ignored it, but when he saw Emmett's name on the screen he figured he'd better pick up.
"Hello?"
"Edward, it's Emmett. You letting me in?"
"Letting you in?"
"Yes, douchebag, I've been on the doorstep in the pissing rain for ten minutes ringing the bell."
"Oh, sorry, I've been upstairs." He closed the lid of the laptop with one hand, hiding the single remaining CCTV feed from view. "I'll be down in a minute."
Emmett was literally dripping wet when Edward got to the door, standing on the doorstep in a dark suit with a light belted mac over the top, a wheeled suitcase in his hand. He was tall and broad with bright blue eyes and dark hair, a smattering of grey hair at the temples giving him a sophisticated look that Edward secretly envied.
"I thought you were getting the redeye?"
"I was meant to be," explained Emmett, barging past Edward into the dry sanctuary of the house, shaking the rain from his coat with a movement not unlike a large dog, "but my PA moved me onto the early evening flight when she heard about the storm." He shrugged himself out of the wet mac and draped it over a chair. "What the hell are you doing in here with all the lights off?" He dropped his suitcase to the floor, unzipping it in one practised movement and rummaging around for some dry clothes. Finding what he was looking for he rose to his feet. "In fact," he said, disappearing in the direction of the nearest bathroom, "don't tell me what you were doing. Just turn on some freaking lights. And get me a beer!"
"Candles," said Jacob, unwinding her reluctant legs from around his waist and letting her slide to the floor. It was dark in the house, only the strange twilight coming through the uncovered windows. He left her marooned at the bottom of the staircase for a moment, rummaging noisily and hurriedly in the dark kitchen for a moment before reappearing with a torch and a box of candles.
"Always prepared," he said with a grin, illuminating his face from below like a Halloween lantern for a brief moment before turning the beam on the stairs, grabbing her hand and pulling her urgently up the stairs to the bedroom with him. The harsh cold light of the torch cast strange tortured shadows on the walls making the familiar place uncanny.
"Excuse me for a moment," she said, kissing Jacob briefly on the lips and padding across the floor to the bathroom in stocking soles. Washing her hands she felt a frisson of fear as sheet lightning lit up the sky outside, bringing a fresh flurry of rain to bear on the new picture window. When she opened the door Jacob was standing in front of the camera, peering intently at it. When he heard her footsteps he spun toward her, a strange look on his face.
"What you doing?" she asked, leaning against the door frame with what she knew was a filthy smile playing across her features. In the few moments that Bella had been in the bathroom he had lit a handful of candles at strategic points around the bed and they spread a warm, friendly glow across the still crumpled covers, a stark contrast to the cold white thundercracks of the storm raging outside.
"Nothing," he said, with an answering grin, "I just can't believe that we're going to do this without the camera."
"I know," she smiled, unzipping her wet hoodie and letting it fall to the floor when something caught her eye. "Wait a minute," she asked, squinting at the camera, "is the light on?"
"I wondered that," he said, following her gaze with his own, "but I think it's just the light from the candles reflecting on the LED bulb." He continued quickly, "I mean, there's no electricity, how could we think that the light was on?" He laughed a little too loudly. He must be nervous, she thought, with a flood of tenderness towards the suddenly awkward man.
"Shut up and take me to bed," she said, out loud.
"You stink," said Emmett, diplomatically, wrinkling his nose as Edward handed him a cold beer.
"Thanks." Despite himself Edward smiled. Emmett's solid, noisy presence was already a comfort to him. Friends since childhood they had somehow managed to stay close even when Emmett went off to Northwestern on a football scholarship and Edward stayed in Forks with a wife and baby. In spite of, or perhaps because of this, in the ranks of people that counted in Edward's world, Emmett still stood out as the single person who's opinion he cared about and who he could trust to tell him the truth, no matter how much that truth might hurt.
"None of that famous English charm brushed off on you then?" remarked Edward, snarkily.
"Not a chance," said Emmett, leaning comfortably against a kitchen worktop. He took a long swig of the golden liquid.
"None of that Saville Row styling either?" Edward eyed the other man's outfit critically.
"Well," replied Emmett with a twinkle in his eye, "if somebody hadn't let me stand on the doorstep in the rain for ten minutes then I would be dressed in made to measure. Instead," he indicated the sports T-shirt and gaudy basketball shorts, "I've had to put on my gym gear." Emmett didn't play football any more but he still kept in shape, a slimmed down version from his college days but still broad and muscular, the sleeves of his T-shirt gripping tight to his shapely arms.
"Touche," said Edward, twisting the top off his own beer with a satisfying psssht but not taking a sip. They both knew why Emmett was there, a direct response to his midweek emergency call. Emmett had known Edward for long enough to understand that he needed space to confess what was bothering him.
"How's Renesmee?" asked Emmett.
"Great," smiled Edward, "enjoying summer camp, showing an amazing aptitude for sports."
"She didn't get that from you," muttered Emmett into his beer bottle.
"Agreed," said Edward, "Bella's not that sporty either though, it's maybe the influence of Aunt Alice or her godfather." Emmett lifted his beer, an acknowledgement that his duties had been taken seriously. "Who was the London girl?"
"The girl on the phone?" said Emmett.
"Well, that depends on how many girls that you have in London."
"A girl in every port," he grinned. "But just the one in London. I hooked up with her last year and she seems happy enough to keep my bed warm when I'm back in that neck of the woods."
"And Rosalie?"
"Complicated," said Emmett with a grimace, which he tried to cover up by taking another drink of his beer.
"Not permanently over then?" hazarded Edward.
"No."
"So, what's the score then?"
"I don't know," said Emmett, with a dismissive shrug, although Edward could tell from the slight wrinkles at the corner of his friends eye that he wasn't nearly as cool about it as he was trying to make out. "She gets under my skin like nobody else does but she's just so..."
"Volatile?" offered Edward.
"I suppose you could say that," replied Emmett with a chuckle. It somehow didn't seem enough of a description of some of the blazing rows that Edward and Bella had witnessed. Edward had seen plenty of the fall out from their explosive arguments. "It's just always up and down with her." He examined the label of his beer bottle for a moment, rolling the bottle in his hand to read to the edges. "The highs are amazing but the lows are awful, soul destroying even. Just when I think that she's made me feel so bad that it's time to call things off she offers a life raft and then we have the most amazing make-up sex and suddenly I'm on a high again." He laughed, bitterly.
"Well," replied Edward, dryly, "statistically, given that you've slept with every woman in the Western hemisphere you were bound to meet your match in one of them." They laughed. "Seriously, I don't get it," continued Edward, shaking his head in sympathy. "I've seen girls trying to make you jealous before. Dirty dancing with other men, flirting with bartenders. Usually you're cool as a cucumber." Emmett nodded his agreement. "But with Rosalie? Man," Edward shook his head, "that's something else. I've never seen you get jealous or protective like that. It's kind of scary."
"I guess that it's because I care," said Emmett, his face long, the corners of his mouth turned down. "Those other girls? They could be fucking the bartender on the bar for all that I could care. But Rosalie?" He shook his head, the set of his jaw tightening, "I'd rip the head off any man that so much as looked at her the wrong way."
"Love hurts?" said Edward, lifting his beer in a toast.
"Love hurts," sighed Emmett, clinking his condensation covered bottle against Edward's.
Bella raised her head from Jacob's prone form long enough to lift her T-shirt over her head before dropping her head back down to kiss him some more. Her legs straddled his waist and his arms wrapped tight around her as the kiss deepened, his warm hands roaming up and down her back. She dropped her head to his neck, nuzzling her cheek against the stubble on his jawline before peppering his neck with butterfly kisses. He wound his hands in her hair, inhaling deeply and moaning as she nibbled his earlobe.
"You smell so good," he whispered, so close to her ear that the sound reverberated through every tiny sensor in her body.
"You don't smell so bad yourself," she giggled. Sobering from her little fit of the giggles she sat upright for a moment, enjoying the way that Jacob's eyes followed, lingering on the shape of her breasts encased in their virginal white lace brassiere. "Hey, this isn't fair."
"What isn't?" said Jacob, a cloud of concern casting a shadow over his face for the briefest of moments.
"I'm topless," she murmured, "you should be too."
"I can arrange that," he grinned, bending his body at the waist to an upright position, face to face with Bella, before pulling the T-shirt over his head in a single fluid movement. Her hands immediately went to his body, caressing the strong planes of his back, exploring the wideness of his shoulders, running her hands down his muscular arms and raking her fingers across his nipples with an exploratory touch. He smiled at her enthusiasm and didn't try to stop her as she pushed him back against the bed, running a hand across his chest, trailing her fingers through the smattering of dark hair between his pecs and following the dark trail of hair that led the way from his belly button into the confines of his jeans.
"Of course," said Jacob, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of her hand like a Parisian gent, "in my book what you are just now is definitely not topless."
"And just how would you describe my current state of undress," said Bella, as innocently as she could muster when the bottom half of her body was writhing against his denim covered erection.
"Shirtless, I guess?"
"And," she said, pushing one of the straps of the bra down over her shoulder, exposing an expanse of creamy flesh at the top of her breast, "can I assume that you would like me to assume your definition of topless?"
"Yes," he squeaked, clearing his throat dramatically as she giggled at his strangled voice, "yes," he continued, in a huskier voice, "that would definitely be my preferred state of undress at this specific time." Slowly, not quite believing her own boldness, she undid the catch of her bra, pushing the straps down her arms until only her hands were left holding the flimsy fabric across her bust. When she realised that Jacob had stopped breathing, stuck in the moment, she threw it dramatically across the room to be rewarded by a huge whoosh of air as Jacob finally released the lungful of breath that he had been holding. The bra hit the rough log wall and dropped to the floor.
"Wow," he said, greedily examining her topless form with lust filled eyes in a way that melted away the last of her self consciousness, "I could never get sick of these." His hands rested on her waist for a moment before travelling up her ribcage and skimming the edge of her breasts in a way that made her shiver. He traced hot fingers along her collarbone, tracing the top of her breasts with a feather light touch, rotating his hands slightly to cup their weight. Her nipples puckered at his attentions yet he studiously avoided them, clearly intent on a long drawn out evening. She sighed happily and he wound his arms around her, pulling her down toward him, crushing her naked breasts against his chest as their lips mashed together greedily.
Sitting up again after a few moments Bella placed one knee then another between his legs, forcing them wide open. He smiled, closing his eyes in pleasure as she caressed him through his jeans. She undid the top button and his eyes opened again, looking at her with a slight question which was quickly answered by her smile and the fact that she bit her bottom lip in anticipation while her fingers slowly popped the remaining three poppers that made up the fly. His eyes closed again in pleasure as she pushed her hand into his tight black boxer shorts and pulled it, somewhat roughly, from the tight confines, enjoying the sight of his hard length free and rearing before taking it in an exploratory grip.
She licked her lips, for Jacob's benefit and scooted further back along the bed until her head was directly above his cock, enjoying the anticipation on his face as she trailed her long hair along his length. Dipping her head she ran her tongue from the base of the shaft to the top, slowly, as if testing an ice cream for flavour and texture. The smell of man was in her nose, an unmistakable heady hot musk. She swirled her tongue around the head, slowly taking in the shape and texture of the ridge before flicking her tongue across the sensitive head, enjoying the first slightly shocking drop of semen. She looked up at Jacob, meeting his eyes as her head paused for a moment, the base of his cock firmly in her hand. He looked at her with unabashed admiration and when she saw her reflection in his eyes she thought herself almost unrecognisable, a wanton harlot with smoky eyes and tousled hair. She watched herself in his eyes for a moment and it was like watching somebody else, as if it was not her that lowered her head to take his cock in her mouth. She felt a strange mix of relief and sadness when Jacob closed his eyes and the image of other Bella disappeared.
"So," said Emmett, after half an hour of chewing over the economy, football and the Greenburgh plant, "are you going to enlighten me on the reason for your late night call two nights ago?"
"It wasn't late at night here," protested Edward. They had moved into the living room, stretching out on two sides of a large cream L shaped sofa. The curtains were closed so that the warm lamplight cocooned from the storm raging outside.
"Stop changing the subject," said Emmett, firmly.
"I don't know where to start," said Edward, putting his bottle onto the coffee table and pushing his hand nervously through his tousled blonde hair.
"From the beginning?" suggested Emmett.
"It's a long story," cautioned Edward.
"Another beer then," Emmett downed the last of his bottle in three loud gulps.
"Don't worry mate," he said, "handing Edward the empty bottle, I've got all night. Although," he said, touching his stomach which had coincidentally just made an audible growl, "if it's going to be all night let's ring for a pizza too."
"I'm surprised you want to kiss me," said Bella, as Jacob pulled her close to him and kissed the lips that had been wrapped around his cock only moments earlier. The salty tang of happy man was still on her tongue.
"Firstly," said Jacob, kissing her full on the lips with an audible smack in illustration, "I'm just so happy that you would want to do that for me that I would probably do pretty much anything for your right now." She giggled, resting her head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. "Secondly, this sex thing," he said, running a hand down her ribcage and across the sensitive skin at the side of her breast, "if you're doing it right your mouth and tongue get into all sorts of places. Clean places," he said kissing her on the lips again, "and dirty places." His voice dropped to a low husky whisper as he whispered into her ear the words that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Dirty, dirty places." Her stomach flipped a little at the very thought of exactly where his tongue could get to.
Seeming to get his energy back he pulled his jeans off but left his boxer shorts on, tucking his cock back in and unbuttoning Bella's jeans, pulling the stretch material over her feet along with her socks and discarding hem carelessly. She felt suddenly naked, dressed only in the flimsy white stretch lace panties that matched the discarded bra. Her apprehension soon faded as he skimmed his hands over her thighs, gently pushing her legs open with his legs to make space for his own to rest in between them as he slid up her body, supporting his torso with his arms and lowering himself onto her, dropping his lips to hers. Her body reacted immediately, tangling her hands in his dark tousled hair, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer to her so that their whole torsos were touching, a hot, sticky joining of ready flesh. As she felt him harden again against her she ground her body against him with more urgency, running her hands down to his tight bottom to feel his length more against her wet slit.
Taking the hint he backed away a moment, the loss palpable as the heat of his body left hers. Yet that heat was replaced by another, more urgent feeling, as he pulled the panties to one side.
"You're so wet," he murmured, dipping an exploratory finger into her wet centre and quickly adding a second as she responded positively to the sensation with a low moan, an involuntarily exhalation that surprised Bella as much as it appeared to please Jacob. She suffered a skilled assault, a barrage of fingers, a skilled thumb rubbing her clit and a hot mouth flicking and sucking her nipples into excited peaks until she could literally wait no longer.
"Please, Jacob," she panted, "please." He grinned, wriggling off of her long enough to pull off the black boxer shorts and then roughly yank off her soaked panties. She was ready for him to just to fuck her, to slake the greedy beast that had been growing deep inside her but Jacob had other ideas. He spread her with one hand and lined his cock up with her wet centre, only for her to push her hips impatiently up against him.
"Patience," he whispered, using his body weight to still her as his hands moved up her body and interlaced in hers, forcing them above her head as his cock slid into her for the first time, painfully slow but deliciously deep and full, a bittersweet sensation that was both too much and not enough at the same time. Her body curved, lifting off the bed, her head thrown back with the first excruciating exhalation of pleasure and frustration.
"Look at me," he said, pausing for a moment. She met his eyes, lost for a moment in the nakedness of their molten brown depths. In that moment she was keenly aware of the differences between humans and animals and the difference between fucking, which is what they had been doing for the last few nights, and making love. He was staring into the depths of her soul as he filled her with more than just his flesh, their bodies blending to one as they shared the depths of each self with the other without inhibition.
He saw her.