*Peeks through fingers* So sorry this took so long. Thanks for your patience : )

Chapter 21

Can't move. Why can't I move?

It's not uncommon for me to wake up tangled up in my sheets like a burrito, but I quickly realize as the sleepy fog dissipates that there is something heavy and warm that's wrapped around me, and it's not my comforter.

Edward.

At the realization that there is a naked Edward, in my bed, his body molding itself perfectly around mine, a blissful feeling of contentment fills me, and it makes me smile. I can hear that it's raining outside, and I wish I could just stay like this all day. I nuzzle into him and let his warmth seep into my bones.

"Good morning." His voice is scratchy and husky, and my heart picks up pace at the mere sound of it. Fingertips stroke and tickle the inside of my arm, drifting down my forearm and interlacing with my fingers.

"Good morning. Did you sleep okay?"

He chuckles softly and gives me a light squeeze. "Surprisingly well. You must have really worn me out."

Flashbacks of last night bombard me, and I'm instantly grateful that I am facing away from him as the familiar flush warms my cheeks. There is another flush down below as well, as the girlie bits are now fully awake—and now fully aware of what Edward is capable of. As if to entice me further, his lips press into my shoulder, earning a soft whimper from me.

That's when the second realization hits—there is a delicious, naked Edward in my bed, and not only does my bladder feel like it wants to explode, but I have disgusting swamp breath.

Oh, the injustice of it all.

His lips are now traveling up the curve of my shoulder to my neck, and I'm having an internal war right now. The ovaries and the lady bits don't give a flying fuck about morning breath—but sadly, screaming bladder trumps both.

"Umm…Edward? I need a…human moment," I explain weakly as I try to wiggle out of his grasp. He groans in frustration, releasing his hold as I disengage myself and sit up, pulling the sheets with me. Edward tugs them back with an impish grin.

"Please, go ahead." His smile widens as I shrink back with the covers, the third realization registering that I'm still completely nude.

Aw, jeez…

My eyes dart around the room as I try to figure out a way to escape to the bathroom without having to do a bare-naked dash. Spotting his button-down shirt on the floor, I snatch it up with an internal sigh of relief. Edward watches me and shakes his head with amusement as I slip it on.

"Seriously, Bella? Don't you think we're past that by now?" His smirk is playful, and his eyes follow me as I escape to the bathroom with a scowl.

I wince when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My hair has gone Medusa, and I quickly contain the tangled riot in a hair band, smiling to myself as I consider how it got this way.

Just as I'm rinsing the toothpaste from my mouth, there's a gentle knock on the door. I open it to find Edward standing there, wearing nothing but his boxers and that marrow-melting, shmexy grin.

My oh my…

Good God, he's beautiful in all his bed-headed glory. I try so hard not to look him up and down, but those deltoids are just…and his lovely rectus abdominis melds into the crazy fuckhot "V" that disappears at his waistband…I wonder what muscle that is…And I'll bet he has amazing latissimi dorsi…

I'm hopeless. I take a deep breath and attempt to center myself as I hide my face in a towel, wiping my mouth of any evidence of toothpaste. Or drool.

"Do you have an extra toothbrush by any chance?" he asks with a knowing smirk. Fuck. Totally busted.

"Actually, I do." I give him a spare from the medicine cabinet and leave to give him his turn in the bathroom, though his hand just happens to accidentally graze my ass as I squeeze past him.

Cheeky bastard.

Edward finds me in the kitchen drinking a bottle of cold water. "Would you like some breakfast?" I offer.

"Well, I would, but I had something else in mind right now." He gathers me up in his arms and kisses me soundly. "What time will Alice be back?"

He actually expects me to think straight when his lips are doing what they're doing to my neck? "She's rarely back before two…" Something akin to a squeak escapes me as they move to me clavicle. "…Or three…I can always text her to check…"

"Later." He lifts me up, and I wrap my arms and legs around him to hold on as he carries me back to my bedroom.

XXX

I lay with my head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it gradually subsides to a slow, calming rhythm. That and the soothing sensation of his fingers idly combing through my hair could easily lull me back to sleep. I pull the covers higher and burrow into him to enjoy his warmth, beginning to get a little chill as the thin sheen of sweat from our activity starts to evaporate.

There are definitely brain-altering chemicals that are released into the system with orgasms. Dangerous, addictive chemicals that make me want to know how soon before we can do it again. Chemicals that make me think about waking up like this every day. Chemicals that make me wonder the likelihood of our children having green eyes.

Good God, I want to just slap myself. This "OCD" thing just escalated to crack whore status.

I draw in a deep breath, attempting to clear my head of all the girlie, irrational stupidity so I can just enjoy the peaceful moment. I try to focus on how lovely it feels to just be. Warmth. Rain. Edward.

Edward's chest rises and falls as he sighs deeply with a hum, and the vibration against my cheek makes me smile. "This is nice," he murmurs.

My smile automatically widens. "I was just thinking the same thing."

He hums again, this time almost sounding like he's purring, and lazily runs his hand up and down my bare back.

I lift my head to look at him, and I don't think I've ever seen him so relaxed and…content. That makes me snicker to myself as I consider why…I guess three orgasms will do that to a person.

I should know.

XXX

"You look good in my shirt, Dr. Cullen." Edward takes a seat at my small kitchen table wearing my oversized UW hoodie. "Swiss or American?"

"That's because you look too cute in mine to take it back. And you really don't have to make breakfast, you know. Let me take you out for something."

Edward watches me pull ingredients from the fridge as I prepare to make him one of his beloved veggie omelets.

With egg whites, of course.

"But I enjoy cooking," I explain. It's cathartic for me, especially when I'm making something for someone who really enjoys my food, like Edward. It feels like giving them an edible hug.

Hmmm…an edible hug…

"Then make it Swiss." Arms envelope my waist, and lips caress my cheek. "Thank you."

Edward releases me and asks if he can help. I hand him a red pepper. "Are those knife skills of yours limited to the OR, or can you chop this?"

"Oh, I think I can manage." He smirks and takes the knife from me while I get to work on an onion. We work side by side quietly, and I realize he keeps watching me. I stop and look at him questioningly, but he just smiles and goes back to carefully dissecting his pepper.

"What?" I finally ask.

He smirks with a gleam in his eye. "I just like watching you. You're a master in the kitchen."

A proud smile flourishes my face. "That's exactly how I feel watching you in the OR."

He beams at me, and after a beat, he leans down and plants the sweetest kiss square on my lips. I lick them as he pulls away, my heart fluttering as I debate on scrapping breakfast altogether and pouncing him on the spot.

But Edward just returns his focus to his pepper, creating flawlessly symmetric, small pieces with slow, meticulous precision. I sigh and finish the rest of my veggie prep while he completes his perfect dice.

"You've got some mad knife skills there, Swan."

I snort to myself as I take the chopped vegetables and put them in a pan to sauté in butter. "Well, I should be. It took me enough ER visits to get this way."

Unfortunately, my "Master in the Kitchen" status is ruined by my first omelet endeavor. I've never actually made one before, other than seeing one prepared on a cooking show. So my first attempt looks more like a mangled vegetable and egg massacre with gory cheese ooze.

I keep that fugly little fiasco for myself.

Thankfully, my second one turns out a tad bit prettier.

"Thank you. I really enjoyed that," he says, helping me clean up once we finish. "But next time, I'm taking you out for breakfast. Someplace I can get some coffee."

Next time. I can't even describe how wonderful those words sound.

"Well then, next time I'll just have to make you dinner, instead."

I can tell by the look on his face that sounds pretty wonderful to him, too.

"So, what did you have planned today?" he asks as he settles onto my couch. I take a seat next him, and he grabs my legs, pulling them across his lap. I love how comfortable and natural he is with me.

"Nothing, really." I got almost everything accomplished yesterday during my nervous cleaning frenzy. "The only thing on my agenda is making a pot of sauce."

His eyes light up with interest. "Really? Can I help?"

I'm delighted that he wants to keep me company while I cook. The apartment feels too empty on weekends since Alice started spending most of them with Jasper. "Of course."

A stray, nagging thought I can't ignore pops into my head. "Edward?"

"Hmmm?" he replies.

"What made you change your mind? About waiting until I was finished with my rotation?" I'm thrilled that he did, of course; but he was so resolute in his convictions before. What happened?

The air seems so much heavier now. His face is pensive, and the hesitation before he answers makes me regret opening my mouth.

"I didn't want to waste any more time, Bella. Time I could be with you." His voice is soft, but green eyes are intense as he watches me. "So I arranged for you to take call with Emmett next week. I'm not working with you anymore."

He didn't want to waste any more time he could be with me. My heart feels like it swells a bit, but then the disappointment that I'm not taking call with him again deflates it a little.

Then the reminder of how finite our time together really is hits home, causing an unpleasant ache to billow in my chest.

My erratic emotions must be written all over my face because Edward cups my cheek and kisses me softly. Apologetically.

This man is my undoing. The ovaries and I are a swooning puddle of incoherent mush yet again.

At that moment, I resolve not to waste any of the time I have with him, either. Slipping fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, I pull him back to my lips, letting them convey everything I can't say.

Sweet, tender kisses somehow turn feverish and demanding, and next thing I know I'm straddling him the way I'd imagined doing so many times in the residents' lounge all those nights on call. He plants his hands firmly on my backside, deliciously grinding into me with a low moan.

Good God, what that sound does to me.

I can feel his hard length pressed into my center, and I rock back and forth, pushing into the pleasure. His fingertips dig into my hips, and he tilts his pelvis upward, increasing the friction and spurring me onward.

Edward pulls back, gasping. "Bella, we need to stop. You're killing me, and I don't have any more condoms."

I stare at him, blinking, fighting through a moment of indecision as I chew at my lip. Every cell in my body wants him desperately. "I'm on the pill," I confess, hoping I'm not being too presumptuous. "To regulate my periods. Not because I expected to have sex or anything…because I haven't had any in at least two years. So I know I'm, you know, safe—"

Thankfully Edward cuts off my inane blathering with a heated kiss. "Thank fucking God," he rasps, his eyes dark and feral. "I've been tested. I'm safe, too."

He returns his mouth to mine, and I sigh as his tongue slides back into my mouth and his hands roam under my shirt, up and down my body.

A hand slips between my thighs, pushing panties to the side, and my abdomen clenches in anticipation of what his skilled fingers can do.

Then one slips inside me, slowly, taunting, until my eyes are begging him for more. And he gives more, adding a second finger and his thumb as another hand snakes up my shirt and captures my breast. He watches me with lust-clouded eyes as I breathlessly writhe against him until I'm clenching around his fingers in agonizing pleasure, wondering how anything could possibly feel this incredible.

I lift my head as I come back down from my high, and I want to feel him inside me, without barriers. Now. I help him undress and drop my underwear before I climb back onto his lap. I need to be closer. I need to return the pleasure he gave me. I need to watch him lose that veil of control.

Nothing compares to that gratifying sensation of filling and stretching as I sink down onto him, or the unbridled pleasure on his face and his hushed expletives as my flesh envelopes his.

I want to start moving, but he holds me steady. "God, too good…just…" he pleads softly and kisses me gently, leaning his forehead against mine as our bodies meld together. His hands move up my back and under my shirt.

"I want to see you." He lifts the hem to remove it, but I stop him. I need to keep it on…It just feels too vulnerable to be completely bare right now, in broad daylight, in the middle of my living room. No covers—or body—to shield me.

"Sorry," I whisper, unable to explain and hoping he understands.

He sighs, eyes questioning but yielding. His hands drift down to my legs, dragging along the skin up my thighs and finally—thankfully—pressing his fingers into my hips, and we start to move.

Good God, how I love this…He does so much more than make me physically feel good. The way he kisses me and caresses my flesh makes me feel like I'm something precious. The way he watches me makes me feel like I'm the sexiest woman in the world.

I never knew sex could actually be like this.

His grip tightens on my hips as he moves them faster and harder, and the way his brows knit in concentration tells me he's close. That look alone makes my insides tighten and stomach flutter. He's positively breathtaking when he finally lets his climax wash through him, and I'm filled with such a sense of satisfaction as I feel him pulsing inside me with his release. He holds me tightly, his forehead resting on my shoulder as our breathing calms to a quiet rhythm.

"Damn, I really need a shower now." He chuckles as he slumps into the couch, ruffling his hand through his hair with a lazy grin. "Care to join me?"

At first the prospect of being in a small confined space with a wet and naked Edward sounds positively tantalizing, until it dawns on me that I'd have to be completely naked, too. And my bathroom is really, really bright. Every single body flaw would be on glaring display.

Edward frowns. "What's the matter?"

My brain scrambles for an excuse that sounds plausible.

Anything.

"I…ummm..." Nope. I got nothing.

"Bella," he murmurs, but his voice is firm. "Why on earth are you so shy around me?"

My eyes widen as I look at him, and my mouth goes dry. "No, it's just that my shower is really small. And you're a big guy." Shit…that sounded bad… "I mean, you're really tall, and it would be pretty cramped."

"Don't care. I saw it. We'll both fit."

Easy for you to say, Dr. Adonis.

I swallow thickly, my heart nervously picking up speed. I'm about to open my mouth with another lame protest, but he lifts my chin and kisses me. "Come on. I'll be a complete gentleman. I promise."

That's even worse.

I chew at my lip as my eyes dart around the room. "Well, umm…I have to…you know, clean up a little bit first, so if you want to go ahead first and I'll join you in a few minutes…"

"I'll be happy to help you clean up." His expression is determined, and the next thing I know, he's lifting and hoisting me over his shoulder like a graceless sack of potatoes, and I have an up close and personal view of his very shapely—and very bare—ass.

"What the fuck is with you and the caveman crap?" I screech. "This is not funny, Edward! Put. Me. Down. Now!"

"This modesty thing is cute, but it's got to end." He lumbers into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

"You're insane, you know that? Is this some strange phobia or something? Can't shower alone in strange places?"

He drops me to the floor with a thud and grins at me, licking his lips. He pulls me close and kisses me. "I'm just an average guy who wants to enjoy as much naked time with a beautiful girl as I can. Is that so wrong?"

I roll my eyes. "There's nothing average about you," I mutter.

"And there's nothing average about you." He lifts the hem of my shirt, his eyes softening, seeking my consent. With a long sigh of defeat, I let him peel it away and quickly duck into the shower.

This should be hot. I've read more sexy, erotic shower scenes than I can count, but there's nothing sexy about the way I feel right now. I just feel nervous. Naked. Exposed.

Edward steps in and moves under the showerhead with me. He kisses me softly on the forehead. "Just trust me, okay?"

I nod tensely and keep his body close, using it to shield my own. I let the hot water drench and soothe my skin, trying to let it wash away my irrational anxiety. There's nothing he hasn't already seen, I tell myself. It's just skin.

Try to be an average girl who wants to enjoy as much naked time with a beautiful man as she can.

He gently pulls away my hairband and uses his fingers to comb through the tangles, then tilts my head under the spray to saturate my hair. I pick up my shampoo, and he takes it from me with a gentle smile.

Edward pours a large dollop of it into his hand and proceeds to wash my hair, his strong fingers massaging my scalp as he works up a thick lather. It feels…nice. Very, very nice, actually. I let my eyes close and take a deep breath, focusing on the soothing sensation and trying to ignore my self-consciousness.

He rinses my hair while carefully sweeping the sudsy water away from my eyes, and once he's satisfied, he moves on to washing my body with my pouf. Aside from exploiting a few ticklish areas he'd discover along the way, Edward wasn't kidding when he said he'd be a complete gentleman. He's respectful and almost nurturing as he works the soap over my body, giving reassuring smiles and soft kisses, making me feel cared for and putting me at ease.

I've never had my back washed before. It's absolutely wonderful and feels downright luxurious.

By the time he finishes, I'm relaxed, refreshed and looking forward to my turn to take care of him.

I take my time shampooing his thick hair, returning the scalp massage and amusing myself by shaping it into a sudsy Mohawk before he chastises me and runs his hands through it, ruining my handiwork.

When I take my turn lathering up his body, I try to be as respectful as he was, avoiding ogling at him the way I'd really like to. But when I turn him around to wash his back, I make the most of the opportunity, admiring his broad shoulders and defined back musculature, enjoying the way they feel as my slippery hands glide over them.

I was right. His lattisimi are sigh-worthy.

We exit the shower into the foggy, steam-filled bathroom and wrap up in towels. He buries his nose in the crook of my neck. "God, you smell good," he says, breathing me in as I hum with contentment. "So, tell me. Was that so terrible?"

"Only the perfect gentleman part," I tease with a huff of mock irritation. Truthfully I'm thankful, since I don't know if my body could handle anything more at this point. It's going to be difficult not walking like a bowlegged cowboy for the next day or two.

He pulls back to look down at me with a frisky smirk. He looks positively edible, his green eyes sparkling with mischief, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower, and unruly damp hair shooting in every which direction. "Oh, really? I can make up for it if you like." He grabs my ass and gives it a squeeze, and I give him a playful shove in return.

"And then I'll need to shower again."

He kisses my neck. "I fail to see the problem."

I break away from him with a chuckle. "My lady parts need a rest. Now go get dressed and meet me in the kitchen."

XXX

Edward spends the afternoon helping me in the kitchen and watching me cook with keen fascination. Conversation is easy flowing and always light; we discuss everything and nothing, carefully avoiding any heavy topics.

Like the future.

I send him off with a plastic container filled with my fresh batch of sauce, and as we say our goodbyes, I'm cursing myself that I'm already missing him. I've enjoyed this magical little bubble we've been in for the past day, and letting him leave feels like I'm crashing after a sugar buzz.

"Any chance I can see you Wednesday night?" he asks, twirling a strand of my loose hair around his finger.

As if I'd actually say no? "I'd like that."

He brings his lips back to mine, kissing me sweetly before slowly pulling away with a satisfied grin, his fingertips lingering as if reluctant to release me.

I close the door behind him, resisting the urge to be a total dork and watch him walk to his car like a lovesick teenager. I return to my bedroom and flop myself onto my unmade bed, burying my face into his pillow, breathing in the faint hint of his scent.

I'd had everything all figured out. After graduation, I'd been looking forward to going back home to my family. My friends. My dream job.

Now, thanks to swoony Dr. MagicFingers, I wasn't so sure anymore.

SM owns all.

A/N:

Thanks as always to Prettyflour, NKubie, and mc101180. You are the bestest, lovies.

All of my love to Pennyloafer and Beccagold. And to brand new Baby Cashew!

And hugs to you wonderful peeps I've had the luck to get to know out there.