Bella
I'm in the middle of a really nice dream when I feel a tickle on my ear, drawing me out of my warm and pleasant slumber. By the time I realize the tickling is Edward whispering in my ear, I've forgotten what the nice dream was about.
"Merry Christmas," he breathes.
I yawn, stretch, and turn to face him. "Good morning," I say with a sleepy grin. "Merry Christmas."
"Did you sleep well?"
I nod. "What time is it?"
"About nine. And the smell of a really good breakfast is coming from the kitchen."
I breathe in the scent of bacon and coffee sneaking through the crack under the door. "Mmmm. Let's go."
He rolls out of bed and puts his hands out to pull me up into a huge hug.
"I love you," he says, squeezing me tightly.
"I love you, too. And I'm suddenly ravenous, so let's go."
He chuckles and leads me by the hand out to the kitchen.
"Morning!" Esme calls, standing at the counter in her robe and plating French toast. "Merry Christmas."
She leads us to the dining room to find Carlisle and Betty seated with their mugs of coffee and a feast that looks like it would feed not five, but fifty.
Breakfast is a leisurely and jovial affair. Esme and Carlisle share stories of Christmas mornings past, including the year Edward cried because Santa didn't bring him a real sailboat. When we finish eating, I help Esme clear the table.
"We'll leave the cleaning for later," she says. "Let's get to the presents!"
Carlisle and Edward are already busy sorting out presents underneath the Christmas tree. Edward glances up at me with his gorgeous crooked smile and his messy bedhead and points to a pile of gifts in front of a chair.
"Those are yours."
I look back at the heap of gifts and narrow my eyes at him. "I thought we weren't going overboard."
"They're not all from me. Some are from Santa."
"Santa. Right." I move to the armchair, curling up and draping an afghan over my legs. When we're all seated with our respective piles of festively wrapped packages, Esme claps and rubbed her hands together.
"Okay! Shall we open one at a time? Or just tear right in?"
"Let's each open one special one first, then we'll dig in," says Carlisle.
Betty goes first, and after being meticulous about not tearing the wrapping paper, she opens a beautiful pair of earrings. Esme opens a new leather bag. Carlisle gets an iPad, which he begins to play with like a kid with a new toy.
Edward's first gift is an enlarged photo of himself with his grandfather. His eyes glisten, and he sounds on the verge of tears when he clears his throat.
"I've never seen this picture before," he says in a low voice. I watch him trace the lines of his granddad's face. They sit on two leather chairs, facing each other with their guitars in their laps, laughing at some unknown inside joke. The joy and love show through the black-and-white print. It must have been taken not long before the older Edward died, because my Edward doesn't look much different.
"They were always laughing at something together," Betty says fondly. "It was fun to watch them play. There was a lot more laughter than singing most of the time."
Edward smiles at the memory and clears his throat again, running a hand over his face. He props the large frame against the hearth, then jumps up to wrap his grandmother in a hug. I hear them both sniff quietly before he lets go and sits down beside her. All eyes are suddenly on me, and my eyes dart from face to face until I realize it's my turn. I feel myself blush under all the attention.
"Here," Edward says, taking a small blue box from the pocket of his robe and handing it to me with a tender smile.
My heart skips a beat and then pounds. It's not just any blue box. It's the blue box. Robin's egg blue, to be precise. With a white ribbon wrapped around it and tied into a little bow on top. I take it from him, my hands shaking, and just stare at it.
Could this be it? I wonder. He's been hinting around about rings and questions. I look up with a tentative smile to see them all leaning forward in their seats. Once I tug the ribbon from the box, I take a deep breath and lift the lid. Inside is a suede pouch the same shade of blue as the box, with Tiffany & Co. stamped across it in black. I undo the tiny snap of the pouch and shake its contents into my hand.
I'm overcome by several emotions: relief, disappointment, love, and gratitude. It's not a diamond engagement ring, but a beautiful silver necklace. The chain is thin and dainty and holds a silver charm in the shape of a heart. It's elegant and simple.
"It made me think of you," Edward says, his voice drawing my gaze back up to the smiling faces around me. He smirks at me, picking up on my surprise, and takes the necklace from my still-shaking hand. I move my hair to the side so he can clasp it around my neck.
As everyone rustles through bags and hands out boxes, Edward presses a kiss to the side of my neck. "Merry Christmas. I love you."
"I love you, too," I whisper back as I embrace him.
I have a feeling he knows exactly what I'd think was in the box. But he's one for a slow build. I didn't actually expect him to propose on Christmas. It's a little too obvious for him.
"Let's open some more gifts!" Carlisle says, breaking us from our private moment.
There's a flurry of paper and tissue and bows as we open and gush over gifts. Edward didn't stop at spoiling me with the necklace. He also got me a new purse I'd been drooling over, some books, and a pair of diamond earrings. He winks at me, and I remember telling him specifically last night that my other earrings were fake. Sneaky.
Edward's like a little boy opening his gifts. He and Carlisle receive matching remote-control cars from "Santa." There's nothing quite like the sight of two grown men steering toy cars around piles of wrapping paper.
From me, Edward opens a couple of DVDs, a leather wallet, and—just for fun—a karaoke microphone to plug into his iPod.
While we clean up bits of paper and ribbon, Edward's phone rings shrilly in the kitchen. He comes back to the living room holding it, smiling and making his way toward me.
"Sure, man. Congratulations again," he says.
He hands the phone over to me. "Jasper and Alice want to wish you a merry Christmas."
"Alice?" I ask, putting the phone to my ear.
She squeals excitedly. "I've been trying to call you all morning!"
"Oh, I guess I left my phone in the other room. Merry Christmas! How has your morning been?"
"Merry Christmas to you, too. And my morning has been spectacular."
"Did you get those boots you were coveting?"
"Well, yes. But even better…" She pauses for what I assume is dramatic effect.
"Jasper asked me to marry him!" she shrieks. It's so loud that I have to hold the phone away from my ear to process her words. Edward's parents and Betty laugh, having heard Alice plain as day, and shout congratulations to Jasper.
"Oh, Alice! Oh, wow!" I have no other words. Edward chuckles at me from his perch on the arm of the couch. I raise an eyebrow at him, then turn my attention back to Alice. "I'm so excited for you."
"Bella, oh my gosh, we have so much planning to do. I want to be a June bride. You know I've always said that. And of course you'll be my maid of honor, and I want to have tons of hydrangeas everywhere and white lights…" Alice goes on about wedding plans as I giggle and wipe tears from my eyes.
"You're the first person I called, so I have to go now," she says. "We still have to call my parents."
"I'm honored you called me first. Congratulations, Alice. Hug Jasper for me, okay?"
"I will. I love you!"
"Love you, too," I say and hang up the phone.
I narrow my eyes at Edward, but I can't keep the grin off my face. "That errand you and Jasper went on a few weeks ago?"
He nods as he smiles back and pulls me into a hug. "It was really hard not to tell you, but I knew you'd have a hard time keeping it from Alice."
"You're right. It would've been incredibly difficult." I laugh again and bury my face in his neck, taking in his familiar, warm scent.
It's the best Christmas I can remember having in a long time. We sit around watching A Christmas Story and eating the candy from our stockings. I help Esme and Betty cook dinner, and we eat together again as a family. And it's without hesitation that I mentally include myself in that group. One of the Cullen family.
"Ladies, if we don't leave soon, we'll never get there!" Carlisle's voice booms down the hall.
Esme and I laugh and gossip while she expertly curls my hair for the New Year's Eve gala, excited to get dressed up and spend an evening dancing and dining in splendor. The package Edward's parents purchased for us included dinner, drinks, a midnight toast, an overnight stay in the hotel, and a New Year's Day brunch. To say I'm excited is an understatement. For me, New Year's Eve usually takes place in a bar with friends or at our apartment, in pajamas with champagne, board games, and Dick Clark on the TV.
"Just a minute, darling!" Esme calls. She gives my hair a final spritz. It looks perfect. I stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire my reflection while Esme puts in her earrings and gathers her clutch and wrap.
My black dress is long and flowing with a large cut-out in the back. I know Edward has been eager to see the dress on me; I wanted to keep it a surprise.
"Ready?" Esme asks as I look over my shoulder and watch the way the curls tumble over my bare back when I move my head from side to side.
"Yep," I say with a smile. We exit the room and walk arm-in-arm down the hallway.
Edward
Leaning against the living room wall is the only comfortable position I can find without wrinkling my stupid tuxedo. I tug at the bow tie, readjust my cuff links, and brush imaginary lint from my sleeves, but my discomfort is forgotten immediately as Bella appears around the corner. She strides confidently with her shoulders back and her head high. I cross the room in just a few strides to take her hand in mine and kiss it gently.
"Pretty," I say. She does a little spin, showing off her bare back. "Sexy," I amend, and I have to subtly adjust myself. Her long brown hair falls in soft curls down her elegant, exposed skin. I take her hand again and pull her to me for a kiss. "Stunning," I try again. There aren't enough words.
Bella's nearly vibrating with excitement as we check in at the hotel, and the bellhop takes our bags and leads us up to our rooms. She crosses to the floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the skyline while I tip the bellhop.
"The view is amazing!"
"Not as amazing as this one," I say, coming up behind her and looking down at her cleavage.
She turns and wraps her arms around my neck. "You're silly."
"You're gorgeous."
"So are you. I've never seen you in a tux before." She tugs on the lapels of my jacket, pulling me down for a kiss.
"I can't wait to get you back up here later," I whisper as I nip at her neck. It's the first night in a couple of weeks that she won't be nervous about anyone hearing or walking in on us. The thing I'm going to do to her.
"Me neither. But we have to go downstairs to the party before we can come back up."
We go down in the ballroom, where a live band plays old standards while people dance, mingle, and mill around with drinks and hors d'oeuvres.
We grab drinks and find my parents' friends at a table near the center of the room. Carmen and her husband Eleazar are there, as well as Aro and his girlfriend Maggie. Before she can get caught up in conversation, I pull Bella to my side.
"Wanna dance?"
She nods, and we join other couples swaying to the soft sounds of "The Way You Look Tonight."
"An appropriate song for our first dance of the night," I say. "I've never seen you look lovelier. You're glowing."
"I have a lot to be happy about."
We dance to another song and go back to the table for dinner. The hour passes quickly, and I'm grateful despite how much fun we're having. With every glass of wine or champagne, every whisper or kiss or touch, I become less and less patient about getting Bella back upstairs.
The clock hands finally crawl toward to midnight, and we take our champagne to the dance floor for the countdown. We kiss, sing "Auld Lang Syne," and toast the New Year. Then I lean down and kiss the spot behind Bella's ear that makes her melt every time.
"Let's get out of here while there's enough commotion to hide us."
She nods and pulls me by the hand to our empty table, where we grab our belongings and hightail it to the elevators. There's no making out in the elevator since two elderly couples join us before the doors slide closed.
But as soon as we're safely in our room, I push her up against the door and kiss her harshly without pretense. "I've been waiting all night for this."
She breathes out slowly. "Me too."
Our hands and lips are everywhere at once as she backs me into the room, close to the large window. I turn her so she faces the glittering skyline and kiss her exposed back while I slowly unzip her dress. It hangs loose, held only by the straps at her shoulders, and I stand back to admire her. My eyes follow the long line of her back down to two dimples just above the curve of her ass. A lace thong peeks out of the unzipped portion of the dress.
"This view…" I begin, drawing air in through my teeth.
"Mmhmm," she says quietly, though I know we're not admiring the same one.
I slip my hands inside her dress and around her sides to find her breasts naked and waiting. "No bra, hmm?" I murmur as my thumbs skim her nipples.
She shakes her head and tips it back to grin at me.
"I like it."
She lets the dress shimmy to the floor and turns to me, standing in front of the moonlit city in nothing but a pair of shiny black heels.
"You have no idea how fucking sexy you are right now," I say, unable to keep the pure lust out of my voice.
She pushes my jacket off my shoulders and undoes the buttons of my shirt as I take care of the tie. I lave her neck and collarbones while she makes quick work of my pants, and then I reclaim her lips with mine. When we're matched in states of undress, I turn her around again to face the window, sweeping her hair over her shoulder so I have full access to her neck.
"Do you know what I'm going to do, Miss Swan?"
"No," she whispers as I take her hands and place them against the glass and nudge her legs apart with my knee.
"I'm going to fuck you right here in front of this window, where the whole city can see."
"Oh," she whimpers. "Yes. Please." I cup her breasts and squeeze gently before pinching her nipples. She moves against me, my dick pressing up against her naked body. I groan, needing to see if she's ready for me. My right hand drifts down her ribcage, over her stomach, across a hipbone, between her thighs, where she's already wet and hot.
"Edward!" she cries when I push two fingers inside her, tease her with the heel of my hand. Hot, wet arousal coats my fingers.
It seems my girl likes a little exhibitionism.
"Does this turn you on? Standing here naked with my fingers inside you, where anyone can see?"
"God, yes." Her voice breaks on the last syllable as I thrust my cock against her, looking for some kind of relief. "It's so…fucking hot."
I reach down to position myself between her legs, sliding back and forth between the tops of her damp thighs.
"I need you, Edward. Please."
I remove my fingers from her and bring them to my mouth without even thinking about it, licking her taste from them, savoring her, then tilt her face toward me so I can kiss her pretty lips. "Please what, Bella?"
"Please."
"What do you need, baby?" I murmur as my cock slides against her slickness, the head of it hitting her where I know she needs it most.
"I need you in me. Now." She reaches down and stilled me, putting me in and pushing back, wiggling, urging me to sink farther in. "Edward," she grinds out. "Please."
I spread one hand out over her pelvic bone and lean against the window with the other as I pull out, push in, pull out, plunge inside her, over and over again.
"I like watching our reflection in the glass," she says between gasps.
I feel like I might burst. Everything tonight has been building up to this moment. It's been two weeks since we've been really alone, and I know we both want it hot and fast and dirty.
I'm grateful that my parents' hotel room was a far walk down the hall. I have every intention of making her scream my name more than once tonight.
I pull back and thrust harder. Her back arches and her noises catch in her throat. I do it again, making her cry out from the depth and force. "How's that? Is that what you want?"
"Yes," she cries. "God, yes." Her head lolls back, and I nip at her neck and shoulders.
She pushes harder against the window, her hips bucking backward as both our bodies wind tighter and tighter. A hot ache travels down my spine and settles in the pit of my stomach. Bella's movements speed up, telling me she's close. The fingers of my hand splayed over her find her swollen clit waiting for me. I play in the wetness there, making fast circles around it.
"Edward," she whimpers. "Oh, I'm so close." I tease her in time with my thrusts, and she tightens and spasms.
She pulses around me, squeezing me, urging me over the edge, and I explode inside her, filling her up.
She leans her head back on my chest, rising and falling with my labored breaths as we calm down. I press kisses to her head and face. "Do you know how hot that was?"
She opens one eye and looks up at me. "I think I have a pretty good idea."
"Do you really?"
She smiles and nods. "If it's half as much as I love you, then it's still an awful lot."
I chuckle and pull back, wincing at the feeling of my now overly sensitive skin sliding from hers.
"Did you have fun tonight?" I ask once we're cleaned up and lying side by side on top of the bed, still too warm to get under the covers.
"I did. Especially that last part."
"Tired?"
"Mmm." She rolls over to tuck herself into my side, and I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. "That was pretty hot, doing it in front of the window."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Maybe we could do it again sometime."
I chuckle into her hair. We lie together in silence for a few moments, me trailing my fingers up and down her spine as her breathing evens out.
"Good night, Bella," I whisper. "Happy new year."
She murmurs something but is already half asleep. I snicker again quietly and settle in for a good night's sleep. But sleep won't come. My mind is working, planning, plotting, and I can't make it stop. I want to marry this woman, and I don't want to wait much longer.
I know she thought the little blue box I gave her on Christmas might've held a ring. It was cruel, but it was my dad's idea. "Always keep them on their toes," he said as we stared into glass case. I thought about the real reason we went to Tiffany's that day. The other blue box, wrapped in white ribbon, is hidden away in my room at my parents' house. The box that holds the most important piece of jewelry I've ever bought, which I plan to give her in just a few weeks' time.