Disclaimer: Not mine.

Pre-read by Jonesn and beta'd by Fran.

Chapter Nineteen:

The Not So Awkward Morning After

Bella's knees dig into the mattress, the white cotton swelling around her tan legs. Eyes wide and lips parted with unspoken words hanging in the air, she sits back, gazing at me apprehensively. Tension permeates the air between us, but I feel none of it. Sated and relaxed, my brain and bones no longer weary with my long-alluded desire; I take my time tugging my trunks back over my hips. Her gaze follows me, watching me as I tuck myself in and frowning when I shoot her a knowing smirk. Bella tries to smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Cold fear creeps into my chest.

Does she regret what we just did?

"So." She pulls her gaze from mine, her eyes flitting to the clock.

"So …" I relax my features, trying to look unconcerned with what she's about to say. A minute passes by, maybe two before she speaks.

"I, uh, gotta pee." Bella cringes and darts from the room, her delectable ass jiggling with each step.

The door swings behind her hitting the wall before bouncing back and closing. I take it as a sign … A sign that I'm not meant to leave her bedroom. Whether it's a sign from her, I'm not sure.

Still, I crawl to the side of the bed where I've noticed her sleeping during those pathetic nights that I've crept from my bedroom, into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of her through the crack in the door. Citrusy aroma wafts around me, and before she returns to the room, I covertly bury my nose into her pillow, breathing in the smell of something light, fruity, and entirely her. I restlessly relax in her bed, crossing my legs at my ankles and my arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling. Staring and wondering, and terrified … a fucking foreign sensation. I'm terrified she'll tell me to leave.

"You're still here." I cock an eyebrow at her statement, at the quiet uncertainty of it. My eyes never leave the ceiling.

"I'm still here, but I'm about to leave. It's late."

I'm baiting her with my words, hoping she'll put up a fight. Saying what I'm thinking without actually saying it, I wait for her response. Pulling my gaze from the ceiling, I focus on the digital clock. The red, glowing numbers tells me it's way past midnight; almost three am. But I'm too wound up to sleep. In all honesty, I can't imagine ever sleeping again; not without her by my side.

"Yeah, it's late," she mumbles. "It's definitely late."

Bella's words seem mottled with disappointment and confusion. Drawers creak and groan, sliding out of her dresser, the silver knobs tugged by her fumbling fingers. They slam against the dresser with a hurried shove. A gray t-shirt with blood-red lettering dangles from one hand. Letters and numbers are splashed across the fabric, chipped and peeling from time and frequent washings, but not enough that I can't read what it says.

Lahote #16.

What the fuck?

Heat crawls across my arms and legs, creeping through my veins. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand. The groan of the mattress under my weight causes her to raise her head. She meets my eyes in the mirror above her dresser and her body stills.

"You're not really gonna wear that shirt after what we just did?" I run my fingers through my hair and take deep breaths, forcing down the irrational sense of jealousy. "Does that shirt belong to Paul, that fucker who attacked you on the beach?"

Bella glances down at the shirt, breaking the stronghold of her eyes on mine in the reflection of the mirror.

"It's comfortable." She raises her head, meeting my gaze in the glass once more. "Why should I toss it?"

Even with her bottom lip tucked timidly between her teeth, she's the one in control now. I cross the distance between us and grab the shirt from her nimble fingers. The hopeful smile on her face washes any lingering tension away as I toss it in the nearby wastebasket. Sweeping her hair from the side of her face, I press a kiss into the crook of her neck. Body relaxing against mine, she shoots a lazy grin at my reflection.

"If you're gonna wear anyone's t-shirt, it's gonna be mine."

"Is that what you think?" She raises an eyebrow and reaches up, weaving her fingers into my hair and pulling me closer. I nip at her skin, smiling at the way it peppers into goose bumps against my lips.

"That's what I know. Want me to prove it to ya?"

"Yeah," she says. I nip a little harder, marking her skin with my teeth. Swelling and rising against the small of her back, I kiss the reddened flesh and grab her hand. Her breath rises and catches in her chest until she's unmoving, paralyzed against me.

"Sleep with me tonight," I say. "In my bed."

"Tonight?" Her voice is hazy.

"Every night," I correct her, not wanting her to believe there's a second that goes by that I don't want her by my side.

"I don't think our parents are gonna be okay with that, Edward." She laughs, but it sounds forced.

"Yeah, well. What they don't know won't hurt them."

~c00ch~

Bella's eyes are lined with fear. Palms forward, she shuffles away from me until the back of her knees hit my bed. Laughter fills the air as she falls backwards. Donning my weapon, I triumphantly hold it in the air, a menacing grin tugging the corners of my mouth.

"What are you gonna do with that, Edward?"

Slick and black, it feels just right in my hand. Lightweight, yet so full of power, I wield it and lurch forward.

"I told you, Bella." I smirk, slapping my open palm with the spatula. "I'm gonna spank you with it."

Bella expels a startled squeak and climbs onto the bed. Lurching forward, I grab her ankle and give it a firm pull, snickering as she struggles to burrow herself beneath the dark comforter. The girl weighs nothing and lacks coordination, making my job so much easier for me. She shrieks once she's exposed from under the sheets, writhing against me, trying and failing against my firm grasp. The Green Day shirt she wears stands out against the sheets, hanging loosely from her body and riding up over her ass. I give it a loud smack with the flat of the spatula, sending her howling.

"Fuck, that hurt," she says, sounding lusty instead of annoyed.

Either way, I release her ankle to climb over her, grinning down once she's resting on her back. Smiling, she automatically falls back into the downy sheets, spreading her thighs for me. I want to look, to catch a peek at the scrap of fabric tucked between her legs, shielding what's mine, but I hold back and keep my eyes trained on hers.

The amused smile melts from her face as the spatula falls from my hand. Swallowing, she practically sinks beneath my weight as uncertainty replaces her giggles. Soft thighs and warmth from her body embraces me like a happy memory, and that's what this is. A happy memory, which is something my life lacks. I'm about to make another one. And hopefully, a million more to follow.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask, brushing her apprehensive smile away with the pad of my thumb.

"You didn't ask if you could do all that other stuff," she whispers. Pinkness seeps over her cheeks, and it's fucking alluring.

"That other stuff was nice," I say, groaning at the heat between her legs, as it smolders against my pelvis. "But kissing is so much more intimate."

"Edward, are you having a 'Pretty Woman' moment." She snickers and that smile returns to her face, the snarky one, the one I favor most.

"Hey, that chick had it right in that movie." I lower my face to hers, captivated by the darkening of her eyes. "Licking, sucking, fucking … that's primal. Kissing is more, I don't fucking know. Romantic?"

"So you're asking my permission to be romantic?"

Silently, I give her a wordless response. Closing my eyes, with my heart wedged somewhere in the hollow of my throat, I lightly press my lips against hers, as chastely as possible. Soft, supple, and sweet, they're everything I've dreamed they'd be. Her fingers crawl over my bare back, gently scratching the surface of my flesh. The tips of her nails dragging across my muscles send a thrill through my body, traveling to the pit of my belly, awakening my already swelling cock.

Bella moans and parts her lips at the same moment I do. Our tongues touch, warm and wet, tentatively at first until we find a nice, slow rhythm. She tastes sweet like the punch passed around at Newton's party, and slightly musky from the blunt we both shared. The warm embrace I felt earlier swells, snowballing into a soothing acceptance and an instant understanding with each swirl of her tongue around mine. Breaking the kiss, only for a second, I tell her the exact words flooding my mind.

"I'm asking permission to be your everything, Bella."

Silence fills the room as I await her response. Just as wordless as I previously was, she drags her fingers over my shoulders, into my hair and pulls me back down to her. Our kiss is different; dangerous, bold and all consuming. I grind against her, stroking her mouth with my tongue, tugging her hair as tightly as she tugs at mine. My trunks slide down with each thrust until they slip below my hipbones. A nagging thought pokes at my brain, but I shove it aside, not wanting to rush.

"Do you want to …" Her hands abandon my hair, and creep between us brushing against my belly. I grunt at the sensation, twitching against her. A shudder wracks my body, and fuck, I want to. I really fucking want to.

"Do you?"

"All the time," she says. I raise my eyebrows, and she laughs. "Since the day we first met."

"When you dumped milk shake on my head?" Bella snickers and I narrow my eyes, shooting her a faux glare.

"I thought you were gonna murder me in the parking lot." She pauses, her eyes far away before giving me a questioning smile. "What were you planning to do to me? You know, after you pinned me against my truck?"

"Torture you." I smirk and release her hair, letting my fingers travel down her body. I feel her go lax, once my fingers drag the front of my Green Day shirt over her belly. Warm breaths wash against my face, each one escaping her mouth as her chest falls. I lick my lips once her tits come into view; round and full, nipples puckering against the air. Starting at her navel, I kiss my way up her belly and chest, dragging my tongue along her feverish skin.

"Am I doing a thorough job?" I ask, my words muffled against her skin. "Torturing you?"

"Yes," she gasps. I blow a warm breath across a straining nipple, so close to my mouth. Anticipating my touch, she sucks in a deep breath. My mouth hovers over her skin, but instead of tasting, I pull her shirt back down, covering her body.

"Good," I whisper, grinning widely at her astonished face.

"You ass." She shoves my shoulders, and I fall to the side, wincing as she digs her fingers into my ribs. "Oh, my God, Edward Cullen is ticklish."

"No, I'm not." I grunt, my belly twitching and jerking with each touch. Bella laughs, tossing one leg over my waist to straddle me and tickle me even further. Tiredness burns at my eyes, but I can't find it in me to care. Halfheartedly, I bat at her hands, knowing I can take her down at any given moment, but allowing her to torture me further. Anything to keep that smile on her face.

"Edward, I've gotta know … what's up with the gun tat." Bailing on my torture, she runs her fingers from my ribs to the tat traveling over my hip.

"You ever shot a gun?" I ask, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Yeah." Bella shrugs, her eyes far away for a second before focusing on mine. "My grandfather took me hunting a few times as a kid."

"Hunting?" I can't smother the laughter from my voice. "You? Hunting? And you didn't accidentally shoot someone?"

"Asshole." She digs a finger into my belly and I groan. Her legs are so smooth, whispering over my hips. Planting my hands on her upper thighs, I give them a squeeze.

"Carlisle and I spent a lot of time at the gun range a few years ago." I suck my snakebites between my teeth with the memory. "I had a lot of problems back then. Harbored a lot of guilt because of my mom and stayed in a shitload of trouble the majority of the time. Carlisle thought going to the gun range would help me release some of my aggression."

"He believed that wielding a dangerous weapon would help you?" Bella sadly smiles and shakes her head."Your dad is one fry short of a Happy Meal."

"Hey, it worked." My fingers travel further up her thighs until my thumbs rest in the space where her legs part. "Shooting a gun was a release … until it wasn't. But I loved shooting at the range; loved it so much that I chose a revolver as my first tat; and that's when I found another addiction."

"So tats are your addiction?" Her fingers dance over my hip, skim my chest, and come to rest just over my heart.

"Tats, piercings, music, and now …"

"Now what?" She smiles, tweaking the metal piercing in my nipple.

Now I'm addicted to you.

I don't say it, but I think she knows. Instead of speaking, I study my hands, how large they are as they linger against her slender thighs. My fingertips dip below the hem of her shirt, the pads of my left thumb below the cotton fabric separating us. She's still wet, engorged and twitching. Pressing the flat of my thumb against her clit, I slowly encircle it and glance up, hungry to read her reaction to my touch.

Face tensed in painful pleasure, I watch as her eyelids flutter, breaking our gaze momentarily. She slides greedily against my thumb, her needy hips circling over mine. Slipping my hand beneath the fabric, I dip two fingers inside her, pushing them in to the knuckle. Bella flutters around me with each stroke, slapping wetly against the palm of my hand.

A startled gasp fills the air as she crashes, her body quaking on top of mine. She collapses against me, and I pull her body down to rest by my side. The way she tucks in so perfectly beside me, her body conforming to mine, arms and legs wound together, brings me to think foolish things; emasculating things that I've never imagined before. But I know them to be true. This girl was meant to be mine.

~c00ch~

I've never shared my bed with a girl.

Too selfish, too caught up inside my own head. I've never even cared about a girl, not really. Not even my first girlfriend, Bree, who I briefly dated at fifteen. Even back then, I was too gun-shy to share a simple kiss with the girl, although I didn't mind sharing anything else with her. I wasn't lying when I voiced my thoughts of kissing to Bella. It is so intimate, and until recently, I never wanted that emotion with anyone. Now, staring down at her face, blissful in sleep, I remember the kiss we shared earlier and something shifts inside my chest.

"You don't even know, do you girl?" I wind my arms around her, relaxing my body flush against hers. "You were my first."

Sun peeks in through the nearby balcony door. Patterns of light splash against the wooden floor and crawl over the bed. Closing my eyes, I fall into a deep sleep, feeling more comfortable in my own skin, lying next to this silly girl, than I have in my entire life. When I awake, my bed is colder than I like; empty, and with untangled limbs. Sleep ebbs from my eyes with a brisk swipe of the back of my hands. Lingering sunlight fades away in the distance, the clouds blotting them out.

The absence of her causes something to stir inside of me. Fumbling from the bed, I kick the covers aside and make my way into the hallway. Bella's bedroom door is open and her bed undisturbed. Panic builds inside my chest, worried thoughts crawling into my mind. Why did she leave me to wake up alone? Clanging pots and pans call to me from the kitchen, and my shoulders automatically relax. Thoughts of a hearty breakfast come to mind, and I pick up my pace, my feet thumping down the stairs. Comfortable in nothing but my boxers, I strut into the kitchen only to freeze once I'm standing in the doorway.

"Edward." Esme's startled voice and a quiet snicker makes Bella jump, but she doesn't turn away from the stove. Keeping her back turned toward me, she fills a pot full of water and sprinkles the saltshaker over the liquid.

"You and Carlisle are already home, huh?" I gnaw on the corner of my lip, forcing my eyes from Bella's back.

"Carlise has been sick ever since we arrived in Seattle." Esme leans against the counter, crosses her arms over her chest, and studies me with questioning, hazel eyes. "He thinks he ate some bad shrimp, but he's feeling somewhat better now. You kids haven't killed each other yet, I see."

"Almost." I saunter over to Bella's side and lean against the counter. She shoots me a warning glare before dumping pasta into the pot of water. "I assaulted Bella with a spatula, but somehow she escaped unscathed."

"A spatula?" Esme studies Bella's placid face before glancing back at mine.

"Yup. She had it coming, running from me and all."

Bella's turns as red as the eye on the stove as she tosses a glare at me, narrowing her eyes at my smirk.

Esme uncrosses her arms and absentmindedly tugs at her earring. "Why were you running?"

"Edward enjoys torturing me." Now she's the one who's smirking, her eyes brimming with humor. I snicker, knowing the type of torture she's thinking about. "Apparently, verbal abuse isn't enough for him. He's moved on to physical torture."

~c00ch~

Supper is straight-up torture. Between Esme's suspicious stares, my father's absence and Bella's cautious glares, I'm on the edge of my seat. Thoughts of sleeping alone tonight lap at my brain in anxious waves, but I brush them aside. Esme's gotta go to bed sometime, and as soon as she does … Dishes clink together as Bella clears the table. I grab my own plate and join her in the kitchen where she's filling the sink full of sudsy water.

"Why don't you just rinse them off and toss them in the dishwasher?" I ask.

"Why don't you mind your own business? You probably don't even know how to wash dishes." Bella bumps me with her hip.

"Move over." I bump her in return and grab the the spray hose, pointing it towards her. Bella shrieks and covers her face, her hands flailing around. One, quick twist of the knob and the cold water shoots out, saturating the front of her top. Fabric plasters against her skin clinging to her breasts. Hardened nipples pebble under the soaked fabric, mutely demanding my attention.

"Edward," she moans. "You got me all wet."

Snorting, I release the spray hose and watch as she tugs the wet material away from her tits. Red-faced, she comes at me, pounding her little fists against my chest. I grab her hands and drape her arms over my shoulders, careful to watch the kitchen door. Her eyes widen, and her pulse quickens. The trill of blood rushing through her veins surges against me as I pull her closer.

"Wet?" I whisper in her ear, brushing my nose against the soft shell. A shiver runs through her body. "You think you're wet now? Wait until later."

"Edward, we've got to be careful." She pulls away, and I won't lie. It fucking hurts a little. "I mean," Bella dumps a few dirty dishes in the sink and begins to scrub, "about sneaking around while they're home. What do you think would happen if Mama and Carlisle found out?"

I mull over her words, not the first time I've silently pondered the exact question she's asking. "Different scenarios, I suppose," I say. "They could break up; forbid us to see each other."

"We're legal adults though, right? By law … in Washington?" Bella has been scrubbing the same plate for several seconds, scrubbing so hard that her knuckles are white, and the heat from the water reddens her skin.

"I dunno," I answer honestly. "Do you … want to tell our parents?"

"I want to be with you," she says. "And I want Mama to be with Carlisle. Why do things have to be so complicated?"

"Maybe we should keep it on the down-low for a while," I say, hating the words as soon as they pass my lips. Bella frowns, furrowing her brow and slowly nodding.

"Yeah, and no sneaking around while the 'rents are here," she says, pursing her lips sternly at the astonishment on my face. "I'm serious, Edward. Mama's already acting as if she's on to us. We can't risk it …"

"Okay," I sigh, lying through my teeth. "I'll play nice."

~c00ch~

An insomniac by nature, worsened by newfound worries, I lay in bed as nightfall settles in. Silence engulfs the house, the endless drone of nothingness louder than the shrillness of the most painful of screams. The nothingness settles into my bones, leaving my body cool and clammy, although it's anything but cold inside my room.

Summertime is blowing away, tugged by the teasing promise of fall, but the heat still lingers. A warm breeze rushes in through the parted, balcony doors, pricking my skin. I roll onto my side, staring through the window at the moon as the clouds roll by. Missing her. One night and I'm already missing her.

The groan of a piece of wood beneath the weight of someone moans from the hallway. My still-beating heart pauses before giving way, thumping loudly against my chest. Unmoving, I stare wide- eyed through the window, a relieved smile creeping to my face at the click of the door behind me. Feet pad against the wooden floor, pausing beside my bed. Sheets shift and the mattress dips and she's here, wrapping her arms around my waist and tangling her legs around mine. I immediately take her hand, pulling it to my chest and threading our fingers together.

"I was trying to stay away." I say, quietly laughing. "And do what you asked, but it was getting really fucking difficult. If you hadn't shown up … I guess I wouldn't be a man of my word."

"Why do you say that?" she whispers.

"Because I've been laying here for hours, thinking of nothing but sneaking into your bedroom and breaking my promise to play nice. I've been counting down the time. You had five minutes left before I snuck out of this room and crawled into your bed. What happened to being careful? Not that I'm complaining."

"I couldn't stay away." She lightly rubs my arms, her nails scraping across my flesh causing my eyes to roll back.

"I missed you," I say, because it's fucking true. "I missed you so much, and I can't stay away from you either. This is me telling you that I won't stay away Bella, inside this house or out."

Bella presses a good-morning, goodnight kiss to my back, the warmth melting the rigidness of my muscles. I memorize the feel of her lips brushing against my skin, the neediness in her hand as she pulls it from mine to splay it over the tightening muscles of my abdomen.

"I missed you too," she says, her voice full of sleep. I listen to her breathe as sleep eventually tugs her under. The warmth as she exhales spills over my back, only to chill it as she inhales, sucking in the muggy air swirling around us. Pulling my cell from under my pillow, I set the alarm, the nagging worry of Carlisle or Esme catching us, now pricking the corners of my brain. I can't stay away from my girl, but I can't risk losing her either. Not now.

Not now that she's finally mine.

All mistakes are my own, especially since I'm updating from work. Shhh ...

So, yeah. Cullen's first kiss. *beams*