AN: I'm trying to reign in the banter and get to the sexing in this chapter. This doesn't mean they will skip the whole list. They might make an attempt toward project MBC, however.
From Chapter 10:
"You're on. I'm going to kick serious Latin butt," he said with a casual tone of voice and flashing green eyes. I just rolled my eyes at him and began using one of the little lemon-scented wet naps to clean my chicken hands.
Chapter 11
Evening Engagements
Saturday Afternoon
2:00 PM
Edward was sneaky. After leaving a tip for the waitress and hitting the washroom, we headed toward the entrance gates to the park. Even in the afternoon, the lines to get into the park were rather long. Thinking we were heading to the ticket purchasing line, I didn't understand when he steered me toward the annual pass members' entrance. "But, Edward, I don't have a pass. Don't we need to get in that other line?" He pulled two folded sheets of paper from his back pocket.
He didn't answer my question, instead saying, "Do you have your ID handy?" I unclasped my new purse and opened the flap, retrieving my small wallet. I handed him my driver's license, glancing at the papers again. It looked like a printed web page with a barcode at the bottom. He ushered me forward, and before I knew what had happened, we were through the gates and those folded papers were gone – probably back in his jeans. He returned my ID to me, waiting patiently as I went through the process of lifting flaps and closing clasps, until everything was right again.
"You should get your real pass in the mail in a few weeks," he explained. "I took care of this online last night, after you called me."
Aren't those annual pass things expensive? Wait - he said he wanted to go to Disneyland just for the morning. Tell me he did not sign me up for annual passes to two amusement parks just for today.
"Edward." He turned his head to look at me as we walked toward the center of the park. "Tell me I'm not going to get two envelopes in the mail?"
"Bella," he said patiently, "how much did Alice spend on those fancy red shoes she bought for you?"
"Those are a gift. It would be rude of me to ask where she bought them or how much it cost…"
"Well, then. Think of those annual passes as a gift. Even if you decide to dump me tomorrow, you will have the passes in your wallet as a souvenir of today. You'll know that a non-dipshit type of guy was willing to spend a little bit in order to share the day." He wasn't looking at me as we strolled along, but his hold on my hand tightened. Then he squeezed my palm and smiled at me, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
He's doing it again. It's just like when we were talking on the couch. What was it he said? 'I'm willing to be yours for as long as you want me'. He thinks I'm on the verge of getting rid of him. He must really think that or he wouldn't keep giving me these little easy out speeches. I wonder why he does that... hmm... maybe I should reassure him on that point. He obviously didn't absorb my full meaning of how much I like him. Come on, Bella – tell him already. What is Alice always reciting? A man needs time to get used to having a woman in his life.
We got into line for the log ride. He helped me maneuver past giant boulders and lacquered wooden rails. The line eventually backed up; we were standing in a narrow staircase, and I had to lean in close to him to speak so the group around us wouldn't hear. I was on the stair above, so I didn't have to strain to reach him.
"Edward," I said[,] my lips brushing his ear. "I really like you. You already have a very strong hold over my emotions." I gave his earlobe a kiss because it was right there next to my lips. "I have no intentions of dumping you, ever." His arms came up to wrap around me and his lips pressed against the side of my neck as he listened. "You would have to cheat on me or tell me some serious lies for me to consider ditching you." His hands began to stroke up and down my back. He lifted his head and looked at me. "As long as you're honest with me, like you have been, we should be fine. We should get to use those passes quite a bit. Now tell me why you think I would give you everything I have to give, and then get rid of you."
He had to walk us up the rest of the staircase and forward in line several feet before the line stalled again. He pressed his forehead into my shoulder and admitted, "It's not you I doubt. It's me." I couldn't stop myself from hugging him tightly. We were leaning against one of those dark brown log railings, much closer to the loading area of the ride this time. He brought his head back up.
"Whatever it is, Edward, we can work through this. Just keep talking to me, okay?"
"I have this book at home," he sighed evasively. "Will you read a few chapters with me? It will help explain things better than I can."
"Reading is definitely my thing," I said with quiet enthusiasm. "Besides, Masen, reading with you about anything will be fun. Remember the wall paper paste discussion?"
"Hey! Why are you calling me Masen again? I thought you spontaneously decided to lift the ban." He had this hopeful look in his eyes, so I decided to ditch his consequence. It seemed trivial and mean.
I wonder why saying his name is so important to him. Perhaps it's his version of sexy talk. I'm definitely going to have to test out that theory – later. I can't test any theories in public. It wouldn't be prudent of me.
"The first-name-ban was lifted because we were having a serious discussion. Now the serious discussion is tabled, and you still owe me some sexy Latin talk." My voice trailed off as I considered my words. "However, would it please you very much if I said your name for the rest of the day regardless of your little deception?"
"Inordinately." He looked so satisfied; it made me even more intrigued about the name thing.
"Are you thinking of anything Latin for me yet?" I said, reminding him.
He pursed his lips, and it looked as though he began to work with words in his head. He was mouthing something and looking at the rock cave around us as we stepped into place in the final waiting area. "I can't say this one entirely… I'll have to use some English for the first part."
"Okay."
We moved forward in this smaller, numbered line and the attendant directed us to an empty carved out 'log' with a bench running down the middle. The front of the car was empty because of an odd numbered party, so I climbed into the back compartment, and he got in behind me, pulling me close and helping me get situated. The rails clicked into gear and we slid forward into the water, gliding and bumping into the sides of the canal.
"Are you ready?" he rumbled against my neck. His hands were bracing the sides of my torso, his thumbs rubbing against the sides of my breasts. I relaxed my arms against the tops of his legs, cupping his kneecaps.
"Yes. Lay it on me," I said with barely concealed eagerness.
I felt his lips brush the skin right under my ear and he whispered, "I want to kiss you… 'a capite ad calcem'." His breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine and his lips brushed my ear when he spoke.
I tilted my head back so that my lips were closer to his ear. "Again, Edward?" I breathed.
I heard a very soft groan, and his hands snaked down pressing slowly from my underarms, to my waist, over my hips, and finally resting on my outer thighs, tensing and flexing like a cat. He repeated himself for me, whispering the syllables right into my ear. I moaned a little and leaned back into him, completely forgetting about the ride. Pressing my legs together to quell the ache in me, I ran my hands down his arms until my hands rested on top of his. The car swayed in the water; we were in the glow of the dim lights floating by.
"Tell me what it does to you when I say that," he demanded softly.
"Well," I began to answer breathlessly. "M-my pulse picks up. I can actually hear my heartbeat pounding."
"Go on," he urged me.
His arms moved back up my body again to my chest, and he rubbed the backs of his knuckles in swirling circles, moving over more territory, slowly. "My breasts feel swollen and ache a little…" I rested my forearms against the walls of the log compartment, moving them out of the way. He rubbed his nose against my neck, his hands just seconds away from actually palming my breasts. Steeling myself to have courage, I moved my hands over top of his and pressed his palms fully against the thin fabric cupping my rounded flesh. "…and I feel a clenching deep inside. God, Edward, you're killing me."
There was a jerking movement in the ride as we headed up a steep hill.
The only occurrence that could improve this scenario would be if our clothes disintegrated, temporarily of course.
He pressed my hips back into his lap with another muffled groan. I felt the heat of his hardness against my bottom. I couldn't help squirming a little. "Try not to do that, love. You're killing me too," he informed me with some levity. I was fed up with facing away from him. I swung a leg over the bench and twisted until I could kiss him. I cupped his cheeks in my hands and allowed my tongue to press against his. His lips met mine hungrily, and our mouths made love like our bodies yearned to.
He broke the kiss and held me tighter when my weight shifted back against his chest, and then we were flying through the air on the descent down the largest drop of the ride. There was a flash of light as we descended, and then droplets of water sprayed around us, sending glistening beads on our faces and clothes. I remembered what had gotten me so revved up in the first place. I shifted until I was sitting facing front again. "What does the phrase mean?" I asked, brushing back a damp strand of hair.
"It means, 'I want to kiss you from head to heel.'"
I moaned when he said that. His hands were demurely wrapped around my waist now that we were in the sunlight making the turn around back to the loading zone. He kissed my neck quickly, preparing us to get out of the log car.
"I think we need to sit by the caramel apples," he declared once we were stepping back into the light. "There's also a photo of us from the ride, but that can wait a few minutes."
"I couldn't eat a bite."
"We're not going to get an apple. We're going to sit by them. Please? I need a ten minute chat about Richard Simmons or something." He guided me out of the exit of the ride, down the stairs, and across the footpath, his hand a gentle presence on my lower back. We found a wooden table in the shade and settled there, sitting in carved log chairs.
"Richard Simmons, huh? How many amorous repellent images do you keep on file in that brain of yours?"
"Enough." He smiled though his eyes did not. "Do you have any people who turn you off immediately by what they say or do, or even by physical appearance?"
"Paris Hilton. Stupidity, whether feigned or genuine is an immediate buzz kill. I wouldn't necessary look to her for inspiration to get turned on, but she fits the bill for turning me off."
"I don't have many female amorous repellents, because even stupid women have the necessary parts…" He snickered at my shocked and slightly annoyed look, and then
ducked when I smacked his arm.
"Why Richard Simmons? He's so non-threatening to me. He's this cheerful, upbeat diet guru."
"Anyone with that much enthusiasm drives me crazy. He also has this high, whiney voice which has the effect of nails on a chalkboard. Both Richard Simmons and that 'Orange Clean' guy are both really hyper and animated. That much energy is exhausting and distracting enough to annoy my arousal away, eventually." He continued explaining while exploring all of the details of my hands. He had traced every curve and bump on one of my palms before pressing the pad of his index finger against the strength of each of my fingernails.
"If I get really desperate, there are always glam-rock males of the 80's. There's something about the combination of garish face paint on a truly ugly man to kill any kind of good vibe. That gives me pretty much all the members of the band 'KISS', and those 'Twisted Sister' guys too."
"You're absolutely right – about the hyper active salesmen and the war-painted musicians. Huh. I never thought of it that way. Although for women, the Billy Mays guy is supposed to be a demographic winner. I don't see it. His beard is so unnaturally dark, and he's so smiley. Maybe it's the idea that a guy cares so much about getting your floors clean." I said laughing. "Women are so bent. We have twisted ideas about guys and cleaning products." I realized something else, and gripped the edge of the table.
His eyebrows furrowed into a puzzled expression. "What is it?"
"I just realized that Mr. Clean was some kind of early housewife porn." He looked a little shocked and then started cracking up.
"Mr. Clean? What?"
"Think about his image. He's got bulging muscles and a tight white t-shirt. I think he even has an earring in one ear – like some kind of freaky sexual genie. I don't know about the bald part; I can't seem to make an analysis of what that means. He's always smiling, ready to do whatever you want – floors, windows, toilets…If that isn't a bored housewife fantasy, then I'll eat my tennis shoe."
"You're forgetting one," he said casually leaning back into his seat.
"What? Who else could there be?"
"The Brawny paper towel guy, Bella."
"Oh, you're right. He's got the plaid shirt, bulging biceps, and the tight jeans. It's so blatantly obvious now that I'm an adult. It flew right over my head when I was a kid. Good advertising, I guess." I looked down at the thick resin on the wooden table for a second, thinking. "Hey. I think I know who my amorous repellent is."
"Who?" he said looking intrigued.
"Al Bundy from 'Married with Children'. Did you ever watch that show?" He nodded his head, allowing me to continue. "It's not like anyone had any redeemable qualities, but the father's characterization was so loathsome – it actually offended me on behalf of the good fathers and husbands out there."
"I can see how he would be a turn off," he said as though he were considering the merits or lack thereof. He leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees and asked, "So, do you want to go check out our picture?"
"Sure, but I need to use the restroom first."
"I think there's one over there by the exit of the ride." We stood, dusting off our pants and heading in the direction of the facilities. I told him I'd be right back before I went into the ladies' room.
Ack! My panties are a drenched nuisance. What's a girl to do in a situation like this?
Ducking into a stall, I used the facilities and cleaned up, and then tried to figure out what to do with my damp underwear.
Taking them off would be a bizarre production that would take too long with retying shoes and everything. Leaving them on sounds a bit uncomfortable too.
I settled for blotting out the worst of it with some toilet paper before redressing and washing my hands. He was waiting for me, sunlight shining off his hair. When he saw me, he stepped forward to take my hand.
"Everything all right?" he asked me politely. I immediately blushed bright red.
Shit. He knows!
No he doesn't know. He's just being attentive.
Yes, he does know, Bella. You practically told him all of your erotic responses on the damn ride.
Grow up. So what if he knows? You know about his disobedient trouser companion.
"Bella, are you okay?" he asked, running a cool finger up and down my hot cheek.
"I'm fine. You can ask me later; I'd rather not say right now. Honestly - it's no big deal. I'm just being a little bit immature. Physically, I'm a twenty-three year old, but experience-wise, I'm the equivalent of an easily mortified Jr. High kid." He didn't press me with questions or tease me, for which I was grateful. He slung an arm around my shoulders and we walked over to the photo corral.
"I wonder if the camera caught us kissing," he mused aloud. There were people milling about the different screens lining the wall. We both scanned the flashing images, waiting for something familiar to appear. I moved over to the last screen, and watched as different photos flickered by in five second increments.
"There! That's us," I said quickly. He moved to stand behind me, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of my jeans. He signaled the attendant who was helping another guest.
The camera had captured us half-way down our descent of the hill. I was turned to the side, my head tucked under his chin. His arms were wrapped around me, and water droplets were in mid-flight all around us.
We look…happy, I guess.
Finishing the transaction with the other guest, the blond female photo attendant returned. She gave me no eye contact at all even though I was standing right in front of her. Her gaze didn't leave Edward's face as he requested photo G-14 and a black frame. She was still standing there, staring like an idiot when I raised my eyebrows at her and cleared my throat. She spun on her heel and darted behind a dark curtain.
"I think your handsome face scrambled her last two brain cells, Edward."
"I think you sound a little jealous, Bella. It's not like you to insult someone's intelligence after ten seconds of seeing her."
"She should know better than to stand there gaping at you…"
He interrupted softly to say, "I don't mind, I think it's cute, actually." I turned around in his embrace, my hands sliding around his lower back.
"You do, huh? It won't be cute if she does it again." I was watching the attendant who'd come out from behind the curtain. She was polishing the glass on the framed photo with a soft cloth. I held out my hand for the money Edward had gotten out of his wallet. "I'll go get it, you stay here." He chuckled at my bossiness.
I walked over to the counter, pushing the bill forward.
Shit. He gave me a hundred dollar bill? Who on earth carries hundreds?
A real estate magnate does, Bella.
Oh yeah.
I'll have to adjust to that, it feels a little weird with my carefully planned budget and his…how do I even describe him?
Don't bother, he defies description sometimes.
The blond worker shook open a gift bag and placed the frame inside, pushing the bag forward. Then she stood on tip toes, still trying to ogle Edward. She suddenly smiled brightly, winked and made a kissing gesture. I froze.
What the hell?
I turned around, scanning the room. There were two girls tucked into a corner heavily pierced and absorbed in each other; a large father-type in Bermuda shorts and a comb-over talking to his young daughter; and Edward – he was reading a park brochure while leaning on the wall with his legs crossed. He didn't look up. I turned back around.
Bitch. If you do not look at me right now, I will cut you. I don't know what with, but I'll make it hurt.
She smirked at me. I looked at her name badge. "Mitzy," I said in a steely voice. Her eyes flicked away again, dismissively. "Listen Smurfette, get your eyes off my man, or I will get you fired. Here's the money. Get my change. Now!" She rolled her eyes at me and worked the register. I took the change from her, folding the bills in half and palming the coins in the other hand. I looped the bag over my pinky finger and snarled, "Karma's a bitch, little girl. Just wait until you find a guy dense enough to go out with you. Watch your back!" With that, I walked away.
When I made it to Edward, I handed him the money, saying, "You might want to check your change against the receipt. I wasn't paying attention – I was too mad."
"Everything seems to be okay, Bella." He slid the bills back into his wallet and tucked the coins into his pocket. He loosened the shopping bag from my curled finger and hugged me against his chest.
"Remind me not to piss you off," he said, snickering.
"Don't piss me off," I said into his chest right away.
"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," he said soothingly. I huffed out a breath of suspended tension and finally started to relax.
"I didn't know I had violent tendencies, Edward." I felt his chest shake with laughter.
"I think everyone has a 'don't fuck with me' threshold, and she didn't care to respect yours."
"Did you see that little stunt she pulled?"
"I did, and it was pretty trashy and transparent; don't waste another second dwelling on it." He shifted his hold on me and got us walking again. "Where would you like to go next? We could wander the trinket shops, or ride the train and get robbed; we could go on the Calico Mine Ride or see Ghost Town. What's next, fair Bella?"
"Let's get robbed, and then shop wherever the train drops us." I pointed at the train depot which was visible in the distance.
We waited for the train and boarded with all of the other guests who were waiting in line. About half way through our trip across the park, four armed 'bandits' wearing bandanas stormed into the train and waved fake guns around. It was silly. But it was amusing in its silliness.
Edward held me close and growled a little when one of the bandits eyed me up and down. The Knott's employee kept moving for fear of the look on Edward's face. A giggling teenage girl with short black hair was taken 'hostage'. The train dropped us on the other end of the park and we wandered the shops looking at the Knott's merchandise and other ghost town trinkets. He bought me a geode that had to be split open with a water-fed diamond-blade saw. The crystals inside sparkled and were razor sharp. I also picked out and paid for two sweatshirts as the temperature had changed. We donned our sweatshirts and decided on the last ride of the night, heading over to the Ghostrider wooden rollercoaster. Since we were both annual pass members, we didn't feel obligated to try to experience the whole park in a few hours. We had the luxury of taking our fun in small doses.
Ghostrider was a giant monster of a coaster, constructed of hundreds of weather-treated wooden beams. It creaked and groaned as the cars thundered overhead. It truly was awesome and horrifying. Everyone exiting the ride was standing on wobbly legs and babbling about the new experience. The line didn't take that long as the day was waning. Families were heading home with sleepy or crying children.
While standing in line, we played silly get to know you games with ridiculous questions like, "What's your favorite barnyard animal and why?" or "If you could be any invention of the last 100 years, what would you be?" We took turns trying to come up with lame questions.
I found out that Edward would be a rooster, naturally. He was an early riser as I found out the morning after we met. Also, he would be an automobile if given a chance. I told him that my favorite barnyard animal was the horse, because of its gracefulness and surefootedness. He also found out that if given an opportunity, I would be a light bulb, giving people all over the world the ability to stay up late reading.
We were soon speeding down the freeway on our way back to Westwood. The silence was broken occasionally by my yawns of exhaustion and the sound of his stereo playing the classical music station on the radio. Soon annoyed by the breathy announcer whispering the titles of songs in a dull voice, Edward popped a CD into the player.
I must have drifted off to sleep because when I opened my eyes again, we were in Edward's carport. I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to wake up. He placed his hands under my arms and lifted me up out of the car like a child. Holding me about the waist, he set me gently on my feet and we walked the short path to his apartment. Still yawning and dazed, I blinked at the bright light he'd switched on after opening the door. He kissed me on the forehead, encouraging me to sit on the couch until he came back with all of our bags from the car. As I was sitting there, it suddenly dawned on me what we were doing, and my drowsy relaxation fled.
You're going into his place not to visit, but for the night. Why did you suggest this, Bella?
Well, because cuddling sounded like fun!
You might want to remember that you have a legitimate traumatic disorder, Bella.
Yeah, well, it's not my fault that he makes me feel normal and I forget.
Try to remember the 'feel' part of that sentence, Bella. You're not actually normal.
It was the wedge-sound of the door closing that snapped me out of my argument with myself.
"Uh, Edward…I think I'm starting to freak out."
He dropped the bags in a pile by the door and quickly sat down beside me."Panic attack freak out?" His right arm slid behind my back, and his left hand pressed gently onto my knee.
"Stupid self-doubt freak out, actually," I said as though speaking to my belly button.
He gently tipped my chin up, making sure we made eye contact. "Self-doubt about what, Bella?"
"Don't we get to have a session before we go to bed?"
"We can do whatever we want before we go to bed. It doesn't have to be a session. We can just talk or cuddle or just go to sleep – whichever you prefer."
"Can I take a shower first?" I asked, knowing this might help me feel better. I already felt reassured by his words that whatever happened would be my choice. But then, he'd inspired that kind of trust from the start.
He got up to hand me my knapsack and showed me where the towels were. I grabbed two as he walked toward the en suite bathroom in the second bedroom. Heading back down the hallway, I snagged my things before heading into the bathroom. A few more steps and I turned on the tap adjusting the dial to a setting in the middle. After using Edward's body wash and shampoo, I allowed the water pressure to relax the muscles in my back and shoulders. Wringing as much of the water from my hair as possible, I stepped out of the enclosure onto a navy blue bath rug. I dried off and wiggled into a white tank top, adjusting the straps and stretchy band under my breasts. I pulled on the pink and green plaid lounge pants without bothering with panties.
Elastic is evil; Satan invented it to torture butt cheeks for eternity. Sleeping with extra elastic on is just stupid.
The tangles in my hair were not monumental, but it was close. I towel dried it a little more before brushing my teeth. I padded barefoot over to his bed with my tub of body butter in hand. Sitting back against his headboard and pillows, I tried not to think about what he was doing in the shower. I could still hear the water running from the other room.
Maybe he's not.
Um no, Bella. He is.
I wonder if he thinks about me while he does that.
Most likely he does.
I'm not inspiration enough for that sort of thing. What on earth does he see in me?
Setting the tub of body butter on his nightstand, I used the spare time to rub the thick lotion into the soles of my feet, trying to rub out the ache from so much walking. My flirty red toenails glinted up at me with some kind of shimmer or glittering agent.
Wait, what about the toenail polish? If the foot thing is supposed to happen in the future, does that mean…?
Yes, Bella. If you want that sexy thing with Edward and your toes to happen, you're going to have to maintain this red polish.
Good grief! What if that's months in the future?
You might want to invest stock options in OPI nail polish, then.
Alice is going to hear from me on this one. She better have been telling the truth. It would be just like her to manufacture this just to see me improve my pedicure habits.
I was threading the cap back onto the jar of lotion when Edward wandered in smelling and looking clean and refreshed. He was rubbing his hair with a towel, clad in black lounge pants and a gray t-shirt. Tossing his towel over the back of a chair, he fell onto the bed and lay with his arms behind his head. Tilting his head up, he gestured with an arm to come. I scooted across his huge bed and settled my head in the crook of his neck.
He told you his stuff; it's time to share some more of yours.
I sighed, wondering how to begin. I decided to just blurt it out. "I went to two doctors who eventually told me I should consider the possibility of living a life without sex. The first doctor urged me to try and get things going on my own. He prescribed me a cream and encouraged me to try to make new connections. I still don't know if he meant connections between my brain and my body, or connections with other human beings. Perhaps it was both." He kissed my temple and sighed as he listened to me.
"The cream was a bust. It made me… swollen, but I wasn't turned on – not like I am with you. I saw that doctor every two weeks for four months. There wasn't much he could do; I was completely unsuccessful. Every time I went back, he had a suggestion for something new I could try. I began to dread working on the homework. I was unable to fantasize about anything. It was too easy to talk myself out of it, I guess. Racy pictures did nothing. I couldn't take sexy stories seriously – they just seemed ridiculous to me. Pornography was even more horrifying than the literature. I spent more time cringing and tilting my head at odd angles than getting worked up. When I missed an appointment because of a flat tire, let's just say I wasn't heart broken. I didn't go back."
"Every interaction I had with a guy urged me to think of myself as a failure. That negative, self-defeating voice in my head is not really conducive to a healthy sex life with a partner, or even alone. I couldn't get turned on. It's unpleasant if you're not turned on – it just felt really uncomfortable to me. That sense of discomfort always brought me back to my memories in that damn car with…"
I took a shuddering breath, refusing to say his name out loud. I didn't want to delve back into those memories again. He lay still, allowing me to gather my thoughts. His hand trailed slowly up and down my arm in gentle strokes.
"Eventually I felt I should try again. I went to another gynecologist. She gave me a device – this little silver bullet thing, and a book. The book was called, 'Learning Your Body Inside and Out'. I must have read every chapter in that damn book twice, and got nothing for my efforts. Scattered through these months of trying were some of my encounters with the dipshits. With every setback, I would get less confident, more frustrated, and less cooperative with the doctor. She didn't know what to do for me; I sure as hell didn't know what to do for me, and it turned into one big fiasco. Finally I found Dr. Pfeiffer. He at least had some sense. He gave me permission to lay off the sex stuff and just work on the panic attacks. I actually made progress with him, and then he retired. Pfeiffer referred me to Dr. Cullen, and there you were. Everything in my life was stale and empty. That is, until you came along."
I sat up a little to get a better look at his face. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming to file the information in his head. His eyes drifted toward mine when I sat up.
"For the first time, I'm experiencing what normal women feel, and it's doing something to my head. It's giving me hope that there is a chance this can work; it's freaking me out, because if this doesn't work, then I'm just another steaming pile of failure. It's also mixed with a little concern for you, because you have quite a bit riding on this, too."
My mention of him seemed to stir him into moving and verbalizing his thoughts. He sat up and bent a knee, resting an arm on it. "Bella, I think we need to do something different. I think we need to expect to fail a little bit. So what if something doesn't go perfectly? So what! The whole point of this experiment, plan, whatever you want to call it, was to help each other. If we mess something up a little, that just tells us how to change things for next time. You see? If we use the right attitude, then we can't ruin it."
He seemed delighted by his epiphany. His lips tilted up and he took my hand, resting it against his cheek. I couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him.
His lips shaped mine, so sweet and soft and warm. I took my kissing cue from where we'd left off instead of starting all the way back at the forehead thing. I licked his lower lip and then sucked it into my mouth. We both tasted slightly of toothpaste. His tongue came out to swipe at mine and suddenly we were French kissing again, tongues dueling, tasting each other, exploring. It was erotic and playful and started all kinds of twitchy feelings inside me.
"Mmmmm," I moaned. I broke the kiss to ask for something. "Have you got anything else from antiquity in that lovely brain of yours, Edward?" He lowered us back into a reclining posture on the bed tucking me into my spot in the crook of his neck. He paused to consider his bank of Latin words. He chuckled at his latest creation.
"Yes. I have one. It's not terribly romantic, but that doesn't seem to matter." He rolled over me a little with half of his body, pressing one of his legs between mine.
"'I want … 'ad eundum quo nemo ante iit'." He peppered kisses on my neck this time, repeating the phrase until I was panting. My entire belly was a delicious, aching distraction. I still didn't know what the damn thing meant. My white tank with thin straps didn't leave much skin covered.
'Ad'. He kissed below my ear. 'Eundum'. He kissed his way down my neck. Goosebumps broke out over my chest and arms. 'Quo'. He rubbed his nose along the scoop neck edge of my camisole. 'Nemo ante iit'. He kissed my now pebbled left nipple through the fabric.
"How are we doing, Bella? Any clenches I should know about?"
"Not yet," I replied. "I'll let you know…Hey, what does this one mean?" I asked while he was busy kissing around the edge of my top again.
"I want to boldly go where no man has gone before." He smiled at me, his grin crooked and totally endearing.
"No man, huh?" I asked.
"Losers, dipshits, and the like don't count."
"They don't, huh? So I'm this untouched, virgin goddess?"
"I don't know if you're embodying Greek mythology or not, but you're mine, Bella," he said, burying his nose in the soft hollow between my breasts.
"As long as I'm not the crone archetype then I'm yours, Edward," I returned for his benefit, stroking my hands over the back of his neck. "Although I wouldn't mind being the goddess of the hunt – she's pretty cool."
"If you're still thinking this clearly, then I'm doing something wrong," He muttered.
With that, he slid the elastic strap from my top down my arm. The thin fabric covering my chest went a similar route, with Edward giving me time to protest if I needed to. He leaned in, his breath washing over my neck and chest.
"May I, Bella?" His lips were millimeters away from my nipple. The poor thing was hard and straining and puckered, just waiting for him to do something about it.
There it is. The lady parts are more than happy.
A sweet ache, that had everything to do with Edward, pooled wet heat between my legs.
"Please, Edward."
"Please what, Bella."
"Please do something, Edward. Clenching has recommenced," I said between gritted teeth.
"Something, here?" he said his hot breath washing over me again.
I pounded my foot on the bed, making my breasts jiggle.
Tease me later!
I must have said that out loud because instantly his mouth was washing over my nipple in hot strokes. He was laving and sucking on me like his very sustenance depended on it.
"Unnhh, God, Edward. Is it supposed to feel this good?"
"How good does it feel?" he said around my nipple which was still between his lips. The way his mouth brushed against the puckered flesh made me arch my back without me making that a conscious decision.
"It makes me want to skip several steps." I was speaking in gasps like a cross-country runner.
"Which one are you thinking of?"
"Straddle kissing, and take this damn top off of me. This thing is totally pissing me off."
He chuckled and worked the thing off and over my shoulders. He took off his own shirt and said, "While we're here we should try an NBH. I didn't put it on the list because I feared it would sound too juvenile, and I wanted to be serious at the time."
"NBH?" I questioned.
"Naked Booby Hug."
My nipples tightened again at the very idea of rubbing up against his chest. He positioned us on our sides, facing each other, and slowly brought our torsos into contact. We both closed our eyes and sighed, drinking in the sensation. His lips were lined up with my forehead and his sweet, affectionate kiss while both of us were bare-chested sent my arms around him tightly. The lightest dusting of hair on his chest whispered against my already sensitive buds, causing more throaty noises to spill from my mouth.
I dove in and kissed him on the lips - flooded with passionate need.
He rubbed our chests together again and I squeezed my eyes shut, then rapidly opened them to look down. I was mashed up against him. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.
We look totally hot. I love this, can we do more? Good God, I'm wet. I've never been like this before. Maybe that was the problem.
It was almost as if he could read my thoughts, "Bella, how wet are you on a scale of one to ten?"
"Hell if I know… really wet."
"Wet enough to touch?"
"Yes."
"Do you think that will make you flashback?"
"We won't know until we try."
"I'll go super slow and keep talking to you. Pay attention to my voice. Focus on where you are."
His left arm slipped under my hair. He was embracing me under my neck.
"Is that hand under your neck okay?"
"It feels good, actually."
His right arm slid over my stomach to rest on the side of my torso. He slid his hand up and down my side in long gentle strokes. "I love the way your skin looks," he said quietly.
My breathing was fine, no panic in sight. His hand passed over my belly and my eyes squeezed shut. He saw my reaction and stopped.
"It's okay, I'm just nervous." I explained.
"Look at me, Bella."
I turned my head and looked into his eyes. They were warm and green and filled with affection for me. They made me feel reassured. He kissed my forehead, reminding me of how far we'd come.
"Would it be too much if we took off these pants, Bella? It might help you to help me."
What's one more piece of clothing when you're already half naked?
No, Bella. Taking off the pants means all the way naked. Can you handle it?
Yes. I want to be naked with Edward. Holy shit.
Say yes! Don't think about it; just say yes.
"All right, but that's my last article of clothing, okay?" I felt it would be more kind to warn him.
He carefully slid his arm out from under me, and then moved to kneel next to my hips. His hands settled on my waist and his thumbs hooked under my pajama pants, pulling them down. He was going slowly, too slowly. He paused when he got to the last inch of skin. He rested his head against my bent knees for a second breathing deeply. "We can stop at any time, okay?" he said, continuing to slide the pants down my legs. He freed my feet from the loops of fabric and tossed the garment to the floor. I was now totally naked. I waited to die of embarrassment, and nothing happened.
"Thank you for being so…" I searched for the right word while looking up at the ceiling. "…understanding," I finally managed to say. "Can you go back to kissing me some more?"
He was looking right at my face, waiting for me to relax. "Look at me." I shifted my gaze to him. "You're beautiful, my Bella." I must have blushed five progressive shades of pink with that comment. "Spectacular." He returned to his position from before with his left hand under my head and his right arm free to wander. Our lips met and kissed slowly. I pressed my tongue into his mouth, dancing boldly. He met me back, swirling through the recesses of my mouth. His hand went back to my chest, rolling and rubbing my nipple between his finger and thumb. My hips bucked up, reaching for something that I couldn't define. I pressed my legs together, trying to do something about the wet aching flesh between them. He was still kissing me when I realized something.
"I just had an idea," I said slowly. His hand stilled on my breast. "Do you remember that first kiss on my porch when you distracted me with video game nonsense?"
"I'll have you know that was not nonsense," he said swirling circles around my breast again. "It was first class gamer commentary. Only the best are subject to my excellent taste."
I rolled my eyes at him, but smiled anyhow. "Do you think you could distract me again? The sound of your voice seems to help remind me who I'm with and where I am."
"Hmm. What shall we discuss?" he said his fingertips gliding over my nipple again.
"Make it something related to Knott's Berry Farm."
"Okay," he said thinking with his eyes closed. I reached up and tunneled my fingers in his hair.
Why did he close his eyes to think?
"What are your thoughts on amusement park desserts, beside the standard ice cream?" Listening to the deep tones of his voice, I helped guide his hand back to my belly button, but stalled there. He was content to caress my skin back and forth with a light touch. Goosebumps broke out over my skin.
"I don't have a lot of experience with them. Arizona was so intensely hot; we went to a few water parks, and the small town of Forks in Washington was not exactly amusement central. I guess I didn't do much of that stuff when I was a kid."
I gathered the courage to move his hand a few inches lower. "I'll list some typical carnival fare; you tell me if you think it sounds any good," he urged.
"Funnel cake," he said, his hand sliding under mine. I thought about pictures I'd seen of the stuff, and moved his hand until his fingertips were brushing curls.
"No fruit topping," I determined. "It's usually icky sweet. Powdered sugar sounds okay, though." I had moved his hand down until he was covering me, his hand a light, warm pressure, his forearm warm against my stomach. He dipped his head down taking possession of one of my nipples, tugging and swirling his tongue until my hips jutted up against his hand. He continued to lick and press his lips against the straining nipple.
"Candy apple or Caramel apple?" he said, his breath huffing against my other nipple.
I pressed his lower hand against my mound and nodded my head at him. His hand pressed down softly, not intruding, just cupping me. He was getting me accustomed to his touch.
"Caramel apple, I've actually had one of those, but I tear off most of the caramel. Candy apples look too hard to eat." His middle finger slid in between my moist folds and rested there, unmoving.
"Ever had a churro before or seen one?" His finger circled my swollen nub, not exactly touching it, avoiding it really. He dipped down lower and then trailed back up, repeating this movement several times. Each time he reached my clitoris, my hips bucked under their own volition. His fingers had acquired a slow rhythm and my lower body was tilting and flexing in time with his movements.
"Mmmmm…churro… Mexican donut – yes, no, I don't know. Don't stop doing what you're doing." He repeated the same motion, circling and gliding lower then back up again. The third time he did this, my knees jerked up and fell open. I was panting and moaning. Then his finger dipped inside and slid back out again.
Holy Fuck – do that again. Dip back up, and then lower, and then…There! Oh my God, this is what all the fuss is…No! Go back in, that was good.
He went back to the beginning, sliding and circling all over again. He slid back up, and then back down. His movements were slow and sure. He dipped his finger back inside again and my body tightened around him in response. He paused with that lone finger inside me for a second and kissed me, just rubbing his lips against mine. I kissed him back, opening my mouth for him, and then my soaked channel seized around his finger. He tilted his head the other direction and kissed me ardently, tongue possessing my mouth in sweeping passes when he slid a second finger inside me.
I was moaning and babbling like a panting idiot at this point.
Oh God, Oh God, don't stop. Whatever you do don't stop. Shit, did I say that out loud? Is brain to mouth filter broken? Who the hell cares? Oh, God... Holy Mother... oh... oh...
His palm cupped my mound, and the flat of his hand pressed against my clit as his two fingers slid out and then back inside me slowly. He was pushing his fingers in and out - in a slow and steady rhythm as the heel of his hand rubbed my sweet spot on the return. My eyes were sewn shut; both of my hands gripped his forearm as sensation tore through me. Everything was tensing and tightening and intensifying. Then he curled his fingers up inside me and pressed.
His mouth latched back onto my nipple and he began to suck in sharp rhythm with his thrusting fingers. What felt like electric currents went arcing back and forth from my breast to my womb. He used his teeth to graze the sides of my breast. I gasped and moaned loudly. My breathing shot out of control. I was panting like oxygen was going out of style. He curled his fingers back up inside and rubbed while his other hand pressed on my clitoris at the same time, and that was it. Spasms jerked out of my body in rhythmic succession, I was seeing stars behind my closed eyes and the world stopped making sense. I felt like I was drowning in rolling waves of pleasure, no longer coherent enough to form words in my mind. I heard myself babbling, but I had no idea what I was saying. Again and again, the waves crashed over me, and I felt like my whole body was on fire, every nerve ending sending electric signals to my brain.
He kept his hand moving and pressing in all the right places until it became too much, and I flinched away from his hand. He removed his damp fingers and held me in his arms. I mashed my face into his chest and tried to calm my breathing, allowing the actions of my body to catch up with the consciousness of my mind. Tears began to slide down my cheeks and my arms gripped his back with shock.
"You did it, Bella, you did it." He kissed my forehead, kissed away my tears. His voice was filled with love and pride.
"Thank you, Edward." My voice was really drowsy. I had never felt so sated; my whole body was boneless, light and humming with pleasure. Unable to keep my eyes open, I nodded when he let me know he was heading for the shower. I felt a whisper of a kiss on my lips and heard him say something I couldn't decipher, before I slid away into oblivion.
A/N:
Whew. He sure knows his stuff. Actually, my beta knows her stuff. I can't take complete credit for MBC. TwilightMomofTwo helped a lot with getting Bella to the finish line.
Ever since I was a kid, I've always wondered or imagined conversations in my head while people- watching. The intimate conversation Edward and Bella have in line for the log ride satisfies my ridiculous need for some of those groping couples I've seen to actually discuss something of significance. I know, it's a lame fantasy, and those horny couples are really just canoodling and telling raunchy jokes. So if you were ever a teenager or twenty-something who had a dazed kid staring at you, I'm sorry – I couldn't help myself. You were unknowingly contributing to my early teenage delusions.
If you need something to say in a review, try sharing an amorous repellent image or person. I'm dying to know if you've got one.