A/N Here it is, the end to our three part trip to the Drive In and the lemon you've all waited so patiently for. This is a monstrosity of a chapter at well over 12,000 words, by far the longest chapter I've ever written and quite possibly the lemoniest. (blushes)
Remember this story is rated M for a reason and this chapter is fully earning that rating. Lemon warning is in full effect.
This chapter has not yet recieved the polish and shine of my beta Octoberland. Please excuse any minor errors but feel free to point out any large ones, though I'm hoping you won't find any of those, lol.
Chapter 21 Fiery Frustrations Part 3
EPOV
I can hear Mike Newton's thoughts far too clearly with him in such close proximity to the car. His attempts to assimilate Emmett's words of advice are amusing, but I've had more than enough of him for one night. I'd thrown him a bone by requesting that Emmett follow up Rose's awkward little display of theatrics with something inspiring. Not because I felt any sympathy for his plight. I have little respect for the useless little twerp, and his constant inappropriate fantasies about Bella have done nothing to endear him to me. Bella's dismay however, had been all too clear to read. In fact it still is.
"Couldn't you have stopped her, Edward?" She brushes her hair back, fingers twisting the strands in exasperation.
"I'm sorry, love. Rose isn't exactly easy to sway."
Bella exhales loudly and flops back against the seat, covering her face with her hands and groaning. "Jessica is going to flip if she hears about this, Edward." Her voice is muffled but the distress is clear. "I promised her I wouldn't say a word."
"You didn't. It's hardly your fault Rose and Alice learned of her…problem," I tell her gently, resisting the urge to pull her hands away and draw her into my arms.
Dropping her hands she fixes me with a gimlet glare. "Edward. I hardly think Jessica is going to be consoled by that fact. Nor is she going to understand I can't keep secrets from psychic, mind-reading, empathic vampires with pushy sisters who don't care who they embarrass." Her arms cross tightly over her chest regarding me heatedly. "Were you listening in too?" She puts air quotes around listening in, and I have to fight the urge to laugh. She's much too adorable in her kittenish temper, not to mention sexy. A warm flush covers her cheeks and the urge to kiss her is almost overwhelming. I wonder if the heat of her anger will flavour her sweet, delectable little mouth.
"No. I was not listening in," I soothe. "Jessica's thoughts are not exactly quiet, love."
"So you knew? Even before she told me?"
"The problem has been consuming her mind for some time, yes." I regard her warily, wondering if she'll feel it was something I should have shared with her. Instead her angry expression turns to one of sympathy and she grimaces.
"Ugh. That must have been unpleasant for you."
I chuckle lightly and cannot resist skimming my fingers along the warm pink blush that highlights her cheekbone. "To say the least."
Sighing softly she turns her head and places a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. The heat of her lips and the moist warmth of her expelled breath send electric pulses of pleasure cascading over my arm. I'm aching for her, instantly reminded of the mood that Emmett's words had created and the prideful rush of pleasure I'd gotten from the knowledge that Bella would never be in the situation Jessica finds herself.
"I do feel a little bad for her though," she whispers, blushing as her eyes turn warm looking into mine. "Do you think…? I mean, can you see in his mind if Mike will?" her blush deepens, "you know? Get…better?"
Letting my finger slide down her jaw line, I tap her chin gently with a small smile. "You do know that Mike isn't the only problem there, don't you?"
"Oh, of course, I mean?" Her words come out like a question and the blush that had begun to fade returns.
"Mike is a child whose mind often dwells in the gutter. There are occasions where I wish I could snap his useless hide like a twig merely to shut off the pornographic imagery he wallows in, but he isn't heartless, Bella." Despite her blush she holds my eyes with an expression of curiosity. I lean closer and brush my mouth over hers reminding myself that he can fantasize all he wants. The reality is all mine. "Jessica has to learn to tell him what she needs as well. It is a two way street."
"Hmm. I did tell her that." Bella smiles and shakes her head. "She freaked. She seems to think if he knew the truth that he'd leave her." Her expression grows concerned again. "Will he?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to ask Alice that question, love. The future is more her domain, but I don't think so. At the moment Mike is much too eager to prove himself."
"Oh. Well that's a good thing, right?" She grimaces and shakes her head with a disgusted laugh. "Yuck. Why are we talking about this?"
"My sentiments exactly, Bella," I tell her, allowing a touch of my exasperation to show in my tone playfully. Taking her hips in my hands I lift her and with a speed that takes her breath away carry her with me into the back seat. I lay her down gently and use my body to press her against the plush leather backrest. Propping myself up on one arm with my hand holding the side of my head, I gaze at her in wonderment. She's so achingly beautiful but as always I struggle with all my conflicting needs and urges. I still do not know how to balance it all, the love and the lust, the need to be close to her in all ways. They pull me in different directions so very much of the time.
My mind flashes back to earlier in the evening. Back to those moments in her room when she'd straddled her legs over my hips and looked at me with need. I'd sensed the power of that need, instinctively known that she wanted me physically, yet also that she was seeking something more than that as well. Her need had been at war with my own. I'd wanted her, I always want her, but my pride had been stung by the knowledge that Mike Newton knew something about her that I did not. It hadn't mattered to me how trivial that something was and I'd felt anger at her for trying to point out that triviality. At the time I'd been certain that she and I were neglecting our emotional relationship in favour of the physical. And yet here, now, I can't help but want her, need her, to the point where I'm tempted to overlook all else in favour of feeling her skin beneath my fingertips. Tasting her flesh beneath my lips, my tongue. Reassuring myself, however needless, that I can and do satisfy her every desire, completely, deeply.
As though she senses my mood she reaches for me, cupping my face and trying to draw me down to her kiss. Laying my other hand against her cheek and allowing my thumb to caress the softness of her lips I groan her name and resist her gentle tug. "Bella. So beautiful, love," I sigh. "So tempting."
"But?" A small flare of hurt flashes in her eyes, filling me with instant regret and more warring emotions.
"No but," I murmur, trying to reassure.
"Then kiss me," she whispers sweetly. "Please."
I groan at the little plea that flares heat over my cold body. "I will," I tell her. "Just let's talk a bit first."
Her eyes grow curious, troubled. "About?"
"About earlier tonight."
She huffs and lets go of me, pushing back against the seat, her eyes flashing now with irritation. "Please tell me this isn't about Mike and that stupid music CD again, Edward." I arch an eyebrow at her tone and she instantly sighs. "Why? Why does it bother you so much? I mean, aside from the obvious fact that you don't like Mike and you have an insane need to spend money on me and I won't let you."
"It isn't about Mike, or about gifts." I tell her, striving to keep my tone of voice gentle. "It's about him knowing something about you that I did not."
Her expression softens further. She places her warm hand once again to my cheek, trailing her fingers oh so softly down to my jaw. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?" She doesn't wait for me to answer. "I'll give it back, okay? I'll give it back and I'll tell him not to give me gifts."
"Bella, this isn't about gifts," I repeat, frustrated with her inability to understand my point. "This is about you, me, and the fact that maybe we aren't spending enough time talking." I emphasize the word talking and her eyes widen slightly.
"Meaning you think we are spending too much time not talking." It's her turn to emphasize and she chooses the word, not. Her tone is odd and her expression is closed making her difficult to read. It isn't until she tries to sit up and pushes away from me that I realize she's once again hurt and clearly misunderstanding.
I let her go, thinking that perhaps it is best right now if we're not in such close physical proximity and watch her scramble awkwardly back to the front seat. I join her, dismayed to see the continued closed expression is now matched by her body language. Her arms are folded over her chest and her legs are crossed tightly at the knee while her entire being radiates hurt feelings and indignation.
"You're taking this the wrong way," I tell her.
"And you're over reacting to a stupid CD," she mutters back.
She's annoying and stubborn and beautiful and hurt, and I'm an idiot. Again the scales won't balance for me and I'm not entirely sure why I cannot pinpoint her mood. It would seem I'm not the only one overreacting here.
"Perhaps you're right. Maybe I am overreacting a bit."
She glances at me surprised. "Angela gave me a movie last week. Remember? The Pretty in Pink one, with Molly Ringwald? You said you didn't know I liked eighties movies, but you weren't mad, not like you are now."
She's right and I sigh. "Bella. It isn't Mike." Her eyebrow goes up again. She isn't sure if she believes that. "Not him personally. Just him in theory."
"I don't understand," she tells me with a shake of her head. A soft wafting of her scent and the light fragrance of her strawberry shampoo mingles around me, soothing my frustration and allowing me to soften my tone with her even more.
"Bella, Mike is human. He can give you a human life. A family, someone to grow old with…a human life," I repeat unnecessarily. I know she understands when her face goes pale. "To me, those things matter. They are the things I would give you if I could."
"Edward…" She crosses the distance between us much quicker than usual and climbs into my lap, straddling me and wedging her body between me and the steering wheel. Her warm hands close around my face while she growls lightly, a fierce kittenish sound that has my body not caring one bit about what my mind wants. "I love you. I want you. I don't care about a human life…"
I catch her gorgeous face in my own hands and growl back at her, not surprised to see her bite her lip at the sound, or by the warm rush of arousal I can smell beginning to grow between us. "I know. And I would spend eternity on my knees in thanks for that if I knew it was required of me, but you have to understand, Bella. I need you to be mine. In all ways. Selfishly mine. I want to be the one who knows you inside and out. Every like, every dislike, every want, every desire, every need, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I want it all, and I'll be damned if I'll let Mike Newton know something about you that I do not. I have to know that even though I cannot give you a perfect human life that I can still give you happiness. That I can still be everything for you. I want to be everything for you."
There are tears in her eyes when I'm done and I curse softly beneath my breath angry with myself for upsetting her. She leans away from me and reaches down into her bag on the floor, pulling out the very CD we'd been discussing. Placing it in the CD player she turns off the sound of the movie that neither one of us has been paying any attention to and scans through the songs, quickly choosing one before turning back to face me. The music has a rock beat, fast paced and slightly frenzied. The lead singer's voice is high pitched in contrast to the heavy throb of a deeper base.
"Mike and I would put this song on at the end of the day when we were closing the store and his parents weren't there." Her eyes beseech me to just listen, so I do. "It made a boring job of clean up and restocking shelves tolerable. Mike would usually grab a broom and start dancing around." She smiles and shakes her head. "He has absolutely no rhythm, he's even worse than I am at dancing, but it was funny. I told him that when he's not being an ass and hitting on me, he's actually a good guy, a decent friend." Again her eyes plead so I nod, knowing she's right. Mike is an ass, but not a bad person. "He made me laugh. That's all. And when he went back in the storage room I kept losing count of the money in the float I was trying to balance." Her hands close around my face again, urging me to look at her though there isn't anywhere else I ever want to look. "Because I was thinking about you. I was wondering if after we're married, after you've changed me, if maybe, just maybe, you might be able to let go of all this weight and guilt and pain you carry and just be silly with me. I was hoping maybe I'd get to see you dance around with a broom, Edward, because you are everything to me and I just want to see you happy."
I attempt to tell her that I am happy, but her fingers cover my mouth with one hand while she reaches back with the other and changes the song. The same rock beat once again spills from the speakers. This time though, the song is a bit slower, with the singer switching to a more crooning tone
"And this song? This one reminds me of the first time I saw you. You looked at me like you hated me. You didn't even know me and it drove me crazy, though I didn't understand why it bothered me so much at the time. I'm still not sure. All I know is that I had to get you to look at me differently. I had to get you to look at me like you loved me." Her voice is full of sadness and love. She shakes her head at me again when I try to talk, switching to yet another new song. "And this one," she sighs, closing her eyes and smiling as the music fills the car. "This one makes me feel the same way I felt the day you finally did look at me like you loved me." She reaches behind her again, another slower song, less loving and more sensual oozes from the speakers. The singer's voice is huskier now, with a plaintive quality that I cannot deny is appealing. The beat is seductive, like a heartbeat, like Bella's heartbeat. She closes her eyes, listening. Her hands fall to my shoulders and I feel her tremble slightly as she exhales. I don't need her to tell me what she thinks about when she hears this song. It's written all over her face and in that tremor, but I ask anyway, needing to hear her say it.
"And this one, Bella? What does this one remind you of?"
Her eyes open slowly and she blushes, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur. "You. It makes me think of you and the way it feels when you touch me, Edward." She wets her lips with her tongue and nearly kills me with a sigh. She reaches back and turns off the CD her expression turning serious. "You are everything to me, Edward. Every song, every moment of my life now is about you, don't you know that?
In my arrogance I think I know all there is to know, yet in one moment she proves me wrong and humbles me completely. "Yes. I know that," I tell her, brushing her hair from her face and realizing the truth. Mike will never know Bella the way I do. Just as no one will ever know me the way she does.
She smiles. "Good." Biting her lip she shifts her weight and I barely resist the urge to groan at the warmth and softness of her bottom pressing against me. "So... Do you want to talk some more, or...?"
I return us to the back seat before she can complete the question, swallowing her soft gasp of surprise with a kiss, keeping her in my lap. She laughs softly.
"I guess that would be a no to the talking."
"Hm. I believe the Drive In might be better suited to other activities."
"Such as?" she asks playfully. She traces my lips with the tip of her finger, the warmth of her touch intoxicating.
Touching the tip of my tongue to one of her fingers makes her shiver as her eyes darken. She has the most expressive eyes. Eyes that speak to me in the same way her body does, letting me know what she wants, what she needs. I'm instantly filled with desire, wanting her, aching for her. "Such as," I murmur, moving my body until it hovers over hers and I can lay her on the seat. My movements stop as do my words, and I curse softly and return her to my lap. "Emmett."
Bella's eyes widen and I shrug apologetically as Emmett pounds on the window a mere split second later. She blushes and instantly begins squirming to move. I wrap one arm around her so that she can't get away, unwilling to let her go for an even an instant now.
"Edward, come on. Button up, cover up, do what you gotta do man, but open the window. Hurry up."
Sighing and striving for patience I lower the window and hold out my hand. Emmett shoves a new tray into it laden with more concession stand items. Not content with my acceptance of the food he shoves his head inside the small space with a grin.
"I got you some more stuff, Bella, seeing as how Rose gave away everything else. Did you want me to see if I can get them to make you some pancakes?"
"Emmett," I growl warningly, which of course he ignores. I can't believe he's starting this again.
"Edward didn't want me to try and bribe the goobers at the stand, but I don't see why they can't make pancakes..."
"No, that's okay, Emmett. I'm good. Thanks." Bella rushes her words shaking her head at him and still managing to sound appreciative.
"Okay. Just tell me if you change your mind."
"Uh, okay. I will."
Emmett pats the hood of the car and admonishes us not to do anything he wouldn't do with a laugh. I shut out his grin by closing the window.
Bella laughs softly, resting her forehead against mine. "Do you get the impression we just aren't going to get any peace tonight?"
I growl my frustration and she smiles. "I think you may be right," I reply, unable to fully keep the irritation out of my tone.
Her eyes suddenly turn serious as she pulls back. "Can we leave, please?" Soft pink shades her ivory skin in the hues of spring roses. "I just want to be alone with you."
She utters my own thoughts perfectly. "Likewise," I tell her, pressing a kiss upon her soft mouth, resisting the temptation to deepen it in favour of getting us somewhere private as quickly as possible. She takes the tray containing the snacks and slips out the door and I follow her rather than climb back into the front.
BPOV
Edward doesn't waste any time driving us away from the Drive In. I'm not sure if it's because he's as eager to be alone as I am, or if he's just in a hurry to get away from all the voices that must have been invading his head. Especially Mike's.
I watch the way he so capably handles getting the car out of the tight space in between all the others, and feel darts of heat race up and down my spine. His hands are so strong, the fingers deceptively elegant and incredibly wicked. His talent for touching me in all the right places with those same fingers is undeniable and completely arousing. I feel a warm rush of heat between my legs and wonder what is wrong with me. All day this need has been simmering beneath the surface and I don't think I can keep it in much longer.
I should at the very least feel bad over everything that had happened tonight. Worried about Jessica, guilty over abandoning Alice. I should feel bad about the ridiculous amount of money Emmett had spent on snacks I won't eat, or the fact that Edward had shelled out money for movies we aren't watching. At the very worst I should feel guilty for my constant need to push Edward past every boundary he tries to erect. I know how hard it is for him to control his dual sided nature, that he still burns in ways I can't imagine whenever we get too close. I know that the effort to control his otherworldly strength takes a restraint and determination and focus that must terrify him, even as it both thrills me and fills me with guilt for how I make him suffer. Instead, all I feel is a near desperate desire to rip off my clothes and climb all over him. I wonder if his incredible powers of concentration and multi-tasking would be up to driving the car without getting us killed if I was to reach out and unbutton his pants. Put my mouth on him. Not that he'd let me, but I wonder...
Another rush of heat dampens the fabric of my panties, intensifying the ache. Edward's nostrils flare, his eyes snapping to me with a groan. He looks back at the road and the car seems to surge forward. A part of me wants to look at the speedometer. The engine purrs and this isn't the kind of vehicle that allows you to feel speed. Instead it envelopes you in plush leather and cocoons you in a heavy frame of safety that makes it seem as though the car is floating over the road no matter how fast it's going. The other part of me doesn't care as long as it means he can shave precious minutes off the time I have to wait for him to touch me.
"You're killing me, Bella."
His voice seems rough and velvet smooth all at once only making the dampness between my legs grow. "I'm sorry," I mutter, rubbing my suddenly moist palms against my jeans. He catches one of my hands with his and growls once before drawing it to his mouth. One icy lick on the flesh and I moan. I should be disgusted. I should yank my hand away and wonder why on earth he'd do such a thing, but his eyes are holding mine and, dear God, they're so dark. He looks dangerous, angry, and hungry. My heart kicks into overdrive and a fresh rush of cream turns my panties into a sodden mess. I rub my thighs together in a desperate effort to relieve some of the ache and he watches me intently.
God. He should be watching the road. I should care that he seems to be driving by feel alone, but I don't. I know he won't crash. I know he's just as aware of the road on many levels as he is of me in this moment and it just excites me more that he throws human actions away so that he can look at me.
"Touch yourself for me, love."
My heart stutters in my chest, skipping beats and rhythm in favour of an epileptic style seizure. "What?"
"You heard me," he replies in a voice drenched in darkness and demand. "Touch yourself."
A hot flush of blood infuses my face even as it infuses other areas as well. I've never really done that. Until Edward sex and lust and desire were just concepts I intellectually understood but had never experienced. And after him? Well we spent so little time apart. Even at night he stayed with me in my bed, waited for me only a few feet from the bathroom when I showered. Of course I'd placed my hand there, in those brief moments in the warmth and the water. Cupped the heat I found and let the touch fire up nerves I barely knew. But always my heart would start to race, and guilt and worry that Edward might hear something and somehow know what I was doing would rear its head and I'd instantly stop.
Continuing to ignore the road he watches me with a dark intensity he so rarely lets me see. My skin feels tight and hot, stretched too thin over my bones. My face is an open book, one he's very good at reading. He must see that his demand is making me uncomfortable. There is a part of me that is also oddly excited by the idea of him watching me that way, and I know he knows that as well.
His next sentence has me questioning if he truly can't read my mind. "I want to watch you, Bella." He releases my hand and places it on my thigh. "I know you're aching. I can smell how wet you are for me. Touch yourself." His tone is still equal parts rough and smooth, only now there is no denying the element of demand. This isn't a request. "Now, Bella."
Shifting in the seat, I let my fingers skim up my thigh and rest at the juncture between my legs. Even through the heavy denim I can feel my heat radiating outwards to my palm. It's almost shocking.
"Yes," he growls, the sound full of approval. Biting my lip I let my fingers move slowly up and down the heavy seam of my jeans. I'm so hot I can't help but press my thumb against the place where it feels the best, rock my hips against it. Squeezing my thighs together around my hand has me gasping. One quick uninhibited pant escapes my mouth and he growls louder.
"Undo the snap and zipper," he instructs softly, his voice still ringing with unmistakable command. "Slide them off. I want to see you."
"Here? I can't, Edward, what if...?"
"No one can see us, Bella. The windows are heavily tinted and no one is around anyway."
I realize he's right. I haven't been paying attention but a quick look out the window assures me that wherever we are, wherever we're headed, it isn't anywhere we'll find people. The street lights are sporadic at best, no houses in sight anywhere. Just trees and a winding road going who knows where.
Biting my lip hard I struggle with what my body wants and the embarrassment of doing something like this. It's the heat and desire I see in his eyes that makes me suddenly and inexplicably brave. I slip the jeans off slowly, watching those same eyes grow darker. He gives the road only cursory glances and never once does the car waver off the perfect center of the driving lane he's on.
Edward groans when I'm left in only my light summer top and panties. His hand moves to my thigh and he strokes my skin softly. Oh so softly. Each cool finger ignites its own trail of heat and sensation. Writhing slightly I moan. I want so much for him to touch me it's insane. I think I can't possibly get any wetter and then I am.
Instead of touching me he takes my hand again and moves it between my legs. His sudden exhale at the sight is unexpected and hard in the quiet car. My heart beats harder and his nostrils flare again. Though whether it's the smell of my blood racing through my veins or the new rush of hot liquid pooling between my legs he's drawing in, I can't tell. Both maybe.
"God, Bella," he groans deeply. "So beautiful." Releasing my hand he places his over the growing bulge of his own sex, adjusting himself in obvious need. I nearly come though my hand isn't moving at all.
"Edward." I moan his name in embarrassment and heat. I'm so conflicted.
"Do you see what you do to me, love?" He asks the question gently with an undertone of veiled need. "You think you're the only one who feels this, but you are so very wrong, my angel."
"Edward, please..." I don't know what I'm begging for. More reassurance, more encouragement perhaps. Him to touch me, most definitely, though I can tell he isn't going to, not yet anyway. The heat and ache under my hand is nearly painful. I'm so swollen, so very wet it seems wrong and right and, oh God. I need to come or I'm going to combust. Everything in me is drawn so tight. The sensual vibration of the car, the dark midnight heat of his stare, the way he's begun to stroke himself, slowly, almost negligibly. It's all too much and my fingers start to move. I don't know how to touch myself, but I find I don't need to know. My mind and my body and my arm and hand all find harmony and it just happens. My hips join the movement, pushing me up off the buttery leather seat and into my hand, perfecting the pressure.
Oh. It's so right and so wrong all at once. I feel more heat scorch my face as I remember whose car I am being so wicked in. The thought isn't one I can hold onto. Not when my fingers find the swollen bit that sends sensations spiralling all over my body.
"Put your hand inside your panties, Bella. Touch your skin. Tell me how wet you are; how hot you are..."
"Edward, ungh, I..." I follow his instructions almost unthinkingly. I need release, have to have it, no matter how, I have to...
EPOV
I've stopped the car. Pulled it onto the dead end road that used to lead to an automobile plant long since closed and demolished, though Bella doesn't seem to notice. Her eyes are closed, her head thrown back, the perfect sculptured curve of her throat arched so dangerously. The monster inside notices, but he's just as willing to ignore the lure of her blood in favour of the siren call of her body as I am. I'm fixated instead on the perfect delicate movement of the hand she's buried at my request beneath those sinful black panties with their tiny pink bow. The fabric creates a soft whisper that melds perfectly with the sounds her fingers make moving over her hot, wet, silken sex.
She's close. Her heartbeat is accelerated, her breathing shallow and panting. I can see the tension in her, climbing, climbing. She's so beautiful, so exquisitely perfect and ripe. I ache to touch her but keep my hands to myself. I want this too much to change a thing, the sinful eroticism of watching her this way beyond arousing.
"Yes, that's it. Good girl, just like that," I croon to her in encouragement when I see her fingers find a point of focus on her tender clitoris. I know how swollen she'll feel there, how soft yet firm, like a ripe berry bursting on a vine, slippery and resilient. The pads of my fingers ache, finding the cold rough denim covered bulge they rub to be a poor substitute for her delicate delight. Venom engorges my erection to the point that even my slow manipulation threatens to have me climaxing in my pants.
She whimpers my name and her fingers falter. It would be so easy, so wonderful to replace them with my own, but I don't. Instead I growl her name. "Don't stop, love. Don't you dare stop. I will be very upset if you do."
"Please..."
"Faster, Bella. Move your hand faster. Yes. Like that. You're soaked, aren't you?"
"Yes... Oh. I need... I have to..."
With a low growl, unable to resist, I cover her hand with my own on the outside of her panties. The fabric feels almost rough in comparison to what I know lies beneath. I begin to guide her movements, knowing in this instance I know even better than she might what she likes, what she needs.
"More," I groan, her scent filling my nostrils, my lungs until I'm so aroused it's painful. "Yes, like that." Her body is taking over, her heart racing faster and faster.
"Edward. I need you..."
"And you will have me, love, always."
"Now. Oh... I need you... now..."
"Not yet, my sweet girl. I want to watch you come. I want to taste your sweetness on your fingers. Let go, Bella. For me, let go..." Her hips lift higher off the seat and her breath catches in her throat while her other hand clenches around my arm. Her climax overtakes her, sending a deep blush of the purest pink cascading over her throat and down beneath the collar of her shirt. Even through the cotton fabric and the lace cups of her bra I can see her nipples tighten into hard points. Beneath my hand I can feel the flex and curl of her hand and the heat and wetness that further dampen her skin and panties.
She comes down slowly. Gently I lift her until I am beneath her and she is straddling my lap. I know she's about to be overcome by nerves and embarrassment so I pull her close and kiss her deeply, relishing the sweet taste of her satiation in her mouth. Warm and pliant she settles against me with a soft sigh. Taking the hand she'd used to pleasure herself I place each of her fingers in my mouth one by one until not one drop of her sweet honeyed flavour is left to taste. Her hot blush is matched by the rising temperature of her body and the warm sounding rush of blood that moves faster through her veins as she watches me. When I'm done, I draw her mouth to mine and kiss her deeply, hungrily, swallowing her little moan of surprise and delight, greedy as always for her responses.
Pulling her even closer and aligning our bodies so she can feel the very present proof of how I feel about what she'd just given me, I break our kiss and press my lips to the still unsteady pulse in her neck. A delicate shiver of reaction lets me know she may have achieved a climax, but she's no more satisfied than I am.
Shifting her weight she presses forward against me, rubbing her damp panties over my aching length.
"Bella, love, you're going to drive me insane," I groan warningly. She presses her lips to my cheek and her hands find the buttons of my shirt, working them open slowly. My own hands find the hem of her shirt and she draws back just enough to allow me to lift it up and off. The snap of her bra is so delicate. Somehow I manage to undo it without having it destroyed, tossing it away with little regard to where it may land.
Our mouths meet again, greedy little kisses that test my will power in ways too dangerous to contemplate. Luckily for me she obeys the rules, even when I do not. My tongue invades the sweet recesses of her mouth, only a very small part of me measuring the amount of venom I can safely allow her to ingest. Moans turn to whimpers as my taste floods her palate and she greedily clenches her hands in my hair. If I were human her tugging would be painful, but I feel it as nothing more than the softest caress. Her hips rock against mine, over and over; the soaked through crotch of her panties bunching to the side so that her tender wet flesh is bared and pressed with increasing urgency into and over my erection. The denim of my pants grows damp beneath her liquid heat and the smell of her desire floods every last one of my senses so that I feel intoxicated.
I should stop her now, before the friction becomes painful for her, but she's swollen and plush and heated, and so close to another climax it makes me greedy. Instead I shift and lift, angling my body better for her use, increasing the pressure so she cries out. Running one hand down her back and under her panties, I cup the smooth skin of her bottom and help her move faster over me. I use the other to bury beneath the thick cool length of her hair at the nape of her neck. One quick tug and her head falls back tilting her lovely breasts up for my mouth, her breath and her heartbeat pulsing the sweet pink tips of her nipples against my tongue. The taste of her skin is like nothing I've ever experienced and the feel of her rubbing against me is unbelievably good. God, so good. So hot. So sweet. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to allow her movements to undo me.
Drawing my lips firmly over my teeth I take one tender peak into my mouth and suckle her the way an infant would. The added almost forbidden sensations send her over the edge with a strangled cry she buries in the top of my head.
Once again she comes down slowly, aftershocks making her tremble as I place a line of kisses from the tips of each lovely little breast up to her jaw. I wait for her to catch her breath before finding her mouth.
"God, love. You wreck me," I whisper against her lips. I feel them curving into a smile while she shakes her head slowly.
"The only one getting wrecked here would be me, Edward." She pulls back so that she can look at me and the ache that occurs at the sight of her flushed skin and swollen mouth parallels itself in the ache of my erection. "So, I think we need to fix that," she murmurs. The touch of her hands on the bare skin of my chest is warm and electric. She grazes my nipples with the tips of her thumbs and presses a warm kiss to my cold neck.
I can feel a blush ignite in her cheeks when she reaches between us and touches the now wet fabric over my erection. "I got you all wet," she whispers. Her pulse skips and scurries, and I hear her swallow. The soft pink of her tongue wets her mouth and I instinctively know that she likes that she's marked me. That it excites her.
"I'm never washing these jeans," I tell her with a small wicked smirk. "I want to be able to smell you on them, to remember exactly how you looked and felt in my arms, moving on me." Dipping my head beneath her chin I lick her once again rapidly beating pulse with a low growl, dropping my voice to a husky whisper. "Coming on me." I flick the soft flesh of her ear lobe with my tongue and she shivers in reaction, her hot little hand suddenly clenching around the damp fabric still encasing my very obvious arousal.
She shivers at my words, one of those delicate tremors that have nothing to do with how cold I am and everything to do with how hot she is. Such an insatiable little thing she is. My erection throbs in approval at her touch, and at that thought. As though the silent heart in my chest has somehow taken up residence there, infused with a new life all its own, thrilled by her sensuality and responsiveness. Bella is the embodiment of every sexual fantasy I never dared contemplate, and every step in our growing intimacy shows me more and more that what exists between us is perfect and right.
Yet not even that knowledge can stop the fear that overcomes me as her small, warm hand strokes me. The action renders the bonds of restraint I must always keep under my control weak and useless.
With a grunt and hiss I remove my hands from her body quickly, no longer trusting my ability to control my strength. I know it thrills her to touch me, but giving up control and allowing her to do so tests me in every dark horrific way imaginable. Realizing there is no safe place to put my hands lest they tear Bella's new car to shreds before I even have the chance to give it to her, I curl them into fists beside my thighs. It isn't enough. Especially not when she tightens her hand around me and strokes upwards. A slick rush of venomous pre cum further saturates the wet material that transfers her heat down into my engorged shaft like a conduit.
I want to grab her, tear the flimsy cotton of her little black panties from her body and push her upwards so that her hands must brace against the roof of the car. I want to put my mouth on her hot, wet, velvet sex and lick her until she writhes and pants and screams, use my hands to push her thighs open so wide nothing of her secret place will be hidden. I want to press my thumbs to the cheeks of her succulent ass and separate the halves, press a finger deep inside and stroke her in forbidden ways that would make her blush and come harder than she ever has before. When her heart is throbbing in post orgasmic bliss, I want to lick the flesh that lays over her femoral artery, then pull her down and impale her hard and without mercy. Bury myself in her so deep, so deep, so deep. Thrust in and out again and again. Place one hand over her beating racing heart, and the other between her legs to pinch her swollen little clitoris and pump it off the way her body is pumping over mine. Press my mouth to the delicious thumping in her carotid artery. Suck on the delicate ivory tissue of her throat so I can feel the earthy pulse against my tongue. Tasting the fabric of her humanity while she comes again and again around my relentless thrusts, her spasms milking me into ecstasy, draining me dry...
No! Every action I ache for would mean pain for her, not pleasure. The abandonment in my fantasy has no room for the extreme amount of control I need to handle Bella in ways that won't harm her, and the reality paints pictures in my mind. Pictures dark and vivid of Bella broken and bloodied, firing a second lust much more potent that instantly creates a new image in my mind. Bella, still and quiet and empty of the life I treasure beyond my own dark excuse of one.
I reach for her hand only to be surprised that she's already moved it away. So consumed in my rampant lustful fantasizing I'd never even noticed the movement, one more marker of just how dangerously lost I had become.
Realizing my eyes are shut tight I keep them that way and even cease to breathe. I can hear Bella's heart, fast yet steady. Hear the soft rush of her breathing, equally fast, yet equally steady. The weight of her a tiny force on my thighs, the heat of her skin, all sensations that ground me even as they torture. I am still achingly hard.
No doubt sensing my mood she stays very still and after awhile I find my restraint. I look upon her expecting disappointment and fear in her expression and finding none at all. Instead she looks back at me calmly, soft dark eyes full of nothing but love and patience.
Swallowing the venom that has pooled in my mouth I groan, knowing I need to stop this, hating that I need to stop this, that I cannot be all that she needs me to be. I test the edges of my frayed control and wonder if I have enough to at least hold her, possibly even love her just a little more if I make it clear she mustn't touch me. Not that I think she'll allow that. Bella is nothing if not stubborn in her attempts to provide equal reciprocation. She fails to understand that my greatest pleasure comes not from what I receive, but from what I can give her.
Bella rests her fingers over my lips before I can utter a word and shakes her head as though she is the mind reader. "It's your turn," she murmurs softly. Struggling to comprehend her meaning, she smiles slowly at me. My throat is decimated by the venom I've swallowed, the burn of my lust comingling with my dark urges, and the floral perfume of her blood. She sees my incomprehension and smiles more, a soft hint of something mischievous sparkling in her eyes. "Fair is fair, Edward. I let you watch me after all. Now it's your turn."
She leans in closer, her warm hands gentle and hesitant rest against my chest, undemanding and careful. Her expression stays slightly playful, but I can see the concern and love just beneath. Her lips ghost gently over mine, chaste yet seductive all at once. "My turn to watch," she whispers. "Touch yourself for me, Edward. Let me see you."
BPOV
I can see he's reached a limit. I'm not entirely sure what pushed him over, but I suspect it might have been my bold touch. For Edward giving pleasure is so much easier than receiving. Just another way our relationship stays always unbalanced. My heart hurts for a moment and then I remind myself that soon he won't need to be so worried. Soon I will be unbreakable and the one who will have to be careful is me. He'll be able to give in to whatever primal urges he has to fight right now. And the strongest primal urge? Well that one won't exist at all anymore. My blood will be gone. I ignore the tiny dart of fear that clenches my stomach at that thought. Not the thought of my change, but the worry I can't quite shake that without the lure of my blood he might see me through different eyes. Eyes that might find me lacking, boring...
I push the thought away and focus on right now. I know if I don't find a way to draw Edward out of his fears and back into this moment with me it will be a step back for us. I know him in some ways better than he knows himself. I know how he'll beat himself up for this; torture himself into a ball of angst that sees any failure as a reason to call an end to us practicing. Even worse than that I know he'll blame himself instead of doing what I really want him to do. Learn to trust himself.
His eyes watch me intently, his expression guarded as I challenge him. He's still hard. Vampires don't feel pain, but I doubt that he's comfortable. In fact, I'm nearly positive that one wrong move and the heavy jean fabric covering him will rip like tissue paper from the force his body is putting it under.
I kiss him carefully. Letting him know with my slow actions I won't do anything he doesn't want. That I'll behave, play by his rules.
"If you say no, I won't be happy," I whisper teasingly, using his words against him.
He groans. "Bella..."
I can hear the warning in his tone but I can also hear the need. "Please, Edward?" I beg, flicking my tongue gently over the corner of his mouth. "Please."
He groans again, although this time it sounds more like need and less like a warning. His hand reaches down between us and covers his erection, once again resuming the slow lazy movements he'd produced while watching me.
I moan softly at the sight, letting him see hear how it affects me, knowing the sweet rush of heat between my legs will let him know even better.
"You've seen me do this before, Bella."
It's true I have, but only briefly. "Not really, not the way I wanted to see." His hand moves a tiny bit faster. It isn't enough. "For real, Edward. Show me for real." My fingers move from their resting place on his shoulders down to the button of his jeans. His jaw snaps shut and his eyes darken dangerously, followed by a hissing exhale. Quickly I move my hands back and digging my knees into the seat I sit up and move back farther on his thighs. Taking the hand he has fisted at his side I guide it up to my hip surprised when he doesn't fight me, desperate to find a way to distract him. I curl his fingers around the small bit of fabric that covers it and tug gently. "Take them off," I request, unable to keep the little pant that escapes my mouth from turning into a soft moan.
There is only a small amount of light in the car coming from the dashboard controls and the single street light behind us. Despite that I can still see him well enough to know he wants to.
"Please." I know he can't resist when I ask for something and this is no different. He begins to work them down my thighs but I shake my head. "It's too hard. Tear them."
"Bella. Christ." The curse sends more heat between my legs and the fabric rips neatly and effortlessly under his touch. The panties fall away and I take my hand and place it gently back between my legs, hoping, praying it won't be too much. Not enough to test his control, just enough to make him forget, to make him ache at least a little bit so he'll forget his worry and give in. I'm so swollen, so sensitive I cannot help but gasp. My fingers feel cold, not as cold or as good as his, but so much better than when they'd been warm.
"Do you want me to stop?" I ask him gently, letting my fingers find where I am the wettest, dipping one inside just a little bit...
"No." His response is a deep growl and finally he gives in. One hand tears open his jeans and the other reaches inside. I can see how my wetness had seeped straight down onto his dark gray boxer briefs before he pushes them down and bares himself completely.
He's beyond hard, the smooth tight drum of the head of his erection glistening with clear fluid. I want to touch him so badly it hurts. Instead I let my finger dip deeper, finding the heat inside shocking against the cool skin of my hand.
"Don't stop," he groans, watching me with dark hungry eyes. "Deeper, Bella. Curl your finger to the front of your body."
I do as he says, fascinated more with the way he grips his sex than with the spike of pleasure that happens when I follow his instructions. His hand moves slowly at first and then faster. Working from the base to the tip, his thumb coming over the top, taking the moisture and rubbing it down the thick root below. He's beautiful. Beyond beautiful and my body races ahead despite my inexperienced, lacking touch.
Groaning he strokes faster, continuing to guide my hand with naughty instructions I barely hear over my ragged breathing and the distraction of that incredibly strong hand working over his erection. The hand he isn't using curls around his thigh, fingers gouging into fabric that tears beneath the force. The sight of that strength sends me higher, but it isn't enough to find relief from the almost painful tension that makes my legs tremble.
Edward's breathing grows ragged as I moan his name. When his head falls back pressing against the seat, I lose the ability to function, my hand stilling over my aching center, lost in the sight of him letting go. His eyes close and his hips rise, pushing me up as though I weigh nothing at all. He groans loudly, a deep sound that bears little resemblance to my name, though I'm positive it is said. His jaw clenches, the stone muscles of his abdomen clenching even harder and with a hiss he comes, spilling over his beautiful pale skin, the taut iron hard clench of his own fisted hand. The cold liquid is clear and glistening, almost iridescent in the pale wash of weak yellow street lamp and neon blue dashboard controls.
As he orgasms, his breathing stops with a low growl, his head turns to the side. The sound of his razor sharp teeth grinding together blends with the sound of ripping denim as his jeans tear under the force of his hand, and possibly the straining of his rock hard thigh. The tear resembles a perfect line running from inner seam to outer seam. I have an insane urge to slip to my knees in front of the seat and lick the skin I can see exposed in that gap of torn fabric. I have an even more insane one that aches to know what his pleasure tastes like. I resist both urges and clench my own thighs with both hands not even feeling any pain though I know I might leave bruises.
Edward keeps his eyes closed even when he settles back into the seat. He begins to breathe again, slowly, tentatively. I can see the tension slowly slipping away and he's so incredibly beautiful in this after moment it hurts. The unfulfilled ache between my legs feels like its own heartbeat, a tiny throb deep inside that radiates outward and makes that swollen little nub at the top quiver. I don't think I've ever felt more turned on in my life. It's nearly painful, and yet at the same time I'm filled with a self satisfactory glow.
Edward let me see him letting go completely. For a moment he stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and just gave in to what his body needed. I would love to be the one touching him in that moment, using my hand or my mouth to take him there, but this is enough for now, more than enough for now.
When his eyes open I instantly see them dart over me, taking inventory, making sure I'm fine. His eyes are still dark and burning. Unable to help myself I touch my fingers to his where he still clasps himself tightly. The spilled liquid is cold as I'd known it would be, silky and glistening.
"I want to taste you," I whisper to him, feeling the throbbing unsatisfied ache between my legs growing even more. Edward shakes his head at me once, capturing my hand before I can raise it to my lips. A shudder works its way over him and tells me his refusal has everything to do with his fear for my safety and nothing to do with what he wants.
Biting my lip I try to stifle the frustrated little whimper that wants to escape and fail. In a blur that can't take more than a half second I'm in the back seat, the cool leather against my back, Edward's twice as cool body hovering over me. He's naked, and clean, and I'm dizzy.
Closing my eyes I groan. "A little warning next time for the human, okay? I'm not great with warp speed."
A small laugh purrs from his throat while he kisses my neck and collarbones. After he's given me a moment to gain back my equilibrium he raises his head and regards me gently, finally taking time to address my desire to taste him. "Bella, love, you know I want to give you everything I can. I understand your curiosity, your desire to taste me, but I don't know what is safe for you. We're walking unknown territory here, love. I know you can ingest some venom safely, it happens each time we kiss, but the unknown... The venom would be so much more potent..."
"It's okay," I assure him quickly, cupping his face between my hands. "I got carried away, that's all. I know it might not be safe, I understand." Blushing I force myself to keep looking at him. "I just wanted you to know, that I do."
Groaning softly he pulls me closer, arching my back. "Put your legs around me, Bella." I do as he asks and he aligns our bodies perfectly. For a second, as always, the ache to have him fully inside of me rears its head, screams its presence. I know he feels it as well because he stills against me and groans again. Then just like always our promise to wait comes back into our conscious minds and he begins to move. The intimacy of that movement, the perfect balance between wanting more but not needing more brings tears to my eyes. My breath leaves me in a rush and his lips find mine, kisses interspersed with soft love words, letting me know how good I feel, how much he loves being this close to me.
Our skin glides together, his cool and dry, mine warm and damp, belly against belly so I can feel the flex of his abdomen perfecting the arch of his hips. My thighs clenching around his stone waist, the impossibly smooth skin of his chest rubbing against my breasts, adding to the sweet ache growing, growing, growing between my legs where he presses his sex to mine.
He moves faster without me needing to ask and I gasp his name, scrape my nails against his back in abandon. I'm close, so close.
"Yes, love, my love, my life, yes, yes, yes..." His chant is a silky cool whisper in my ear, on my neck, over my lips, urging me on, demanding and accepting and cherishing and wanton.
I fall over the edge knowing he's right there with me, the cool spill of his release adding to the effortless glide of our bodies, taking us both over. He doesn't stop, only slows his movements for a few brief moments to allow me to catch my breath before driving us both back to the peak. For a long time we seem to stay at the edge. His cool breath mingling with my heated exhalations neither one of us wanting to let go this final time. Not yet, not yet, not yet...
EPOV
The feel of her, the rush I get from the way our body's move, the control I must exert to stay slow, stay gentle, all of it is singularly perfect. I can feel her hanging on, poised on the very edge of her climax just as I am. With a deep growl I manage to hold on, to give her what I finally understand she's been seeking all day. Not just sexual release, though of course that pure pleasure is undeniable and all a part of the whole.
I slide one hand beneath her body, finding the sensual dip in the small of her back that is covered with the softest skin. The other I place against her cheek, sweeping my thumb over the kiss swollen pink of her bottom lip, letting the warm moist humid rush of her breath ghost over my hard skin. The feeling of our bodies moving in perfect synchrony fills me with aching tenderness.
"Edward."
Just my name, yet I hear everything. She trembles, her eyes opening, holding mine in her heated gaze. I hear so much more than everything.
"You," she whispers in a voice soaked in passion and love. "You, always you."
"Mine," I growl, pressing my lips to hers gently, sweeping them back and forth in a tender rush, giving her the sweetness of my breath, taking her pleasure higher, wanting, needing to give her everything, all of me, always... "You are mine, my beautiful little love, mine, always."
This is what she's wanted, what I so carelessly thought to deny her with my jealousy and fear. So simple, so necessary, so perfect. To forget everything else but us, to just get lost in each other until nothing exists outside of this moment. To belong to each other.
"Yes," she breathes. A soft whispering sigh of agreement that resonates throughout her entire body. I feel it all over her, in the melting of her limbs against mine and in the sweet rush of liquid heat as her body turns molten around the hardness of mine. Her submission is delicious, thrilling me in ways that make me harder than I have ever been before.
"Yes."
"Edward, oh." She trembles harder, perfect silken thighs quivering against my hips.
"Not yet," I tell her, my voice a dark growl against her ear.
"Please..."
I center my movements until I'm hitting her swollen little clit in perfect back and forth strokes too slow to send her over. Her back arches and I growl her name, tell her how incredible she feels against me, how much she pleases me. My body aches with the need to move faster, to send us both over the edge. Not yet, not yet...
I lose all sense of time. Bella melts against me and nothing exists for her and I but this. The sound of our body's moving, straining in incomplete yet somehow still perfect connection. Her soft cries, the perfume of her skin, her sweat, the hot honey sweet musk of her arousal overlaid with the deeper musk of my own.
She cries out my name and I know she cannot wait any longer. "Now, love. Come with me now." I urge, pressing against her harder, moving faster and faster, though it's only the tiniest fraction of the speed and force I am capable of it's more than enough, it's perfect, so perfect... Being careful with her fragility is a turn on I'd never imagined, restraint a stunning aphrodisiac.
Everything I've known about pleasure is a mockery of this. This feeling that takes over fills me with heat and light, lost in her silky skin and hot clenching limbs that I allow to pull me closer. Her cries are so sweet, so perfectly illustrative of the pleasure she takes, the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure she gives as her hips move of their own accord finishing me long after I've lost the ability to trust my own movements.
Panting in my ear, she whispers my name, breathless, spent, and sated. It is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.
BPOV
I have no idea what time it is. The night is fading, black giving way to gray. I shift against Edward and he adjusts the blanket around my back. His skin is warmer where we've been pressed together for hours but the chill has still managed to creep in anyway. We've lain like this together, talking, kissing, touching in what felt like slow motion for a long time. I'm thirsty and tired and my back is beginning to ache, though I couldn't care less about any of it.
"I wish we could stay here forever." I share my thoughts without filters and he smiles.
"That may become tiresome after awhile. At least for you." His fingers brush the shadows that are no doubt becoming present under my eyes making me scowl in mock reproach.
"Always so practical," I mutter. His smile turns to a laugh as my stomach chooses this imperfect time to announce the hunger I would have been happy to ignore.
"It's almost daylight." There is a tone of regret in his voice that does a lot to ease the sting of his laugh. "Charlie will be aware the all night movie marathon will be over. He's being indulgent, we shouldn't test his patience.
Sighing, I nestle closer for one last snuggle, knowing he's right even as I feel a slight bit of resistance to Charlie's rules. I am going to be married in a few short weeks. It seems odd to be under an enforced curfew under the circumstances. A sudden shot of guilt slides in under the resistance. In a few short weeks I won't just be married. I'll be something else as well. Something that will sadly end my relationship with Charlie forever.
I push the thought away quickly. One bridge at a time I remind myself mentally.
My stomach growls again and Edward places a kiss on my forehead. I don't have to see him to know he's smiling. "Breakfast time for the human. You must be starving. If we leave now we'll have time to stop somewhere and get you something to eat."
I'd like to argue, especially when his kiss moves from my forehead to my lips but he's right. I really am starving. I stretch languidly, feeling a slight ache in all my joints as though they'd come unhinged and were now trying to realign. It's not an unpleasant feeling.
Edward finds all the scattered pieces of our clothes and we dress quickly in the soft shadows. He takes my hand as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road raising it to his lips to tenderly kiss my knuckles.
"I love you," he murmurs.
"I know. I love you too."
He smiles. "I know."
EPOV
Bella is sleeping lightly when I pull into her driveway. Charlie is just coming out of the house, dressed in his uniform, his thoughts filling with quiet relief as he sees us. She rouses easily and with a sleepy yawn, gathering the bag with the remnants of her half eaten sweet roll before slipping from the car. To my eyes she looks deliciously tousled and very well loved so I'm grateful when Charlie observes her as nothing more than tired. No doubt a reflex action of a Father who will always struggle to see his daughter as anything more than the little girl she's always been in his eyes.
"Hey kids," he remarks. "Enjoy the movies?"
"They were all right," Bella replies evasively. Then as if she's afraid he'll ask for a synopsis she quickly adds, "I fell asleep halfway through, so..."
Charlie chuckles. "Yeah, you look like it. You never could stay awake during late night movies, Bells."
She blushes, no doubt remembering that she hadn't actually slept a wink all night while I stifle the urge to smile.
"Well, I have to get to the station. There was a break in at the old Miller place last night. No doubt just some hyper kids with nothing better to do, but I need to go check it out." He starts to make his way to the car and suddenly his eyes seem to focus on the Guardian. "Wow. That is some car, Edward. What is it?"
"It's a Mercedes Guardian, sir."
"Really? I think I've heard of those, but I didn't think they were available anywhere in the U.S. yet. Is it Carlisle's?"
I reach out and snag Bella's hand, tugging her gently back towards me. Sitting on the very edge of the hood I place one foot on the front bumper and watch her warily. She's sleepy and slightly befuddled but suspicion is rapidly beginning to darken her eyes. I decide now is as good a time as any to fess up and present her with the car. I can only hope Charlie's presence will ease the storm that might brew up in her.
Sliding my hand into my pocket and removing the keys, I pull Bella even closer. She moves to stand in between my spread knees, watching Charlie move around the car whistling under his breath.
"Actually no. It isn't Carlisle's car. It's Bella's." If I was human I might hold my breath, but I'm neither human nor superstitious. I merely stay still and wait while she absorbs my words. The second I see the understanding flash over her gorgeous eyes, I hold the key out to her.
Charlie coughs and I swear I almost hear a laugh behind the startled sound. His thoughts confirm it a second later when they watch Bella's cheeks turn red. "You bought this for Bella?" He doesn't sound surprised, just awed.
"Yes. It's an early wedding present."
"You bought me a car? For a wedding present?" Her voice stays calm until the last syllable and then it rises in a sharp pitch.
Charlie clears his throat, definitely amused now. As much as he's grown to accepts our relationship, he still isn't above taking pleasure in seeing Bella possibly put me in my place.
I don't bother to argue the point. "Yes."
Her cheeks go from red to pale before something in her demeanour seems to change. She regards me for a minute. "Where is my truck?"
"Dead."
Charlie snorts. "That doesn't surprise me, Bells. Thing was on its last legs anyway. I was getting ready to tell you it was time to junk it. Safety first and all that." Charlie's thoughts head to Jacob and then back to me, once again taking in the Guardian. He doesn't know a lot about cars, they aren't his thing, but he does know when it comes to safety it looks like this would be a very good car. He likes that. His shoulders square and he pats the hood with a grin and a head shake at me as though to say good luck. There is still a certain amount of pleasure in his mind about Bella possibly being angry with me, but it has faded quite a bit now.
Heading to his cruiser he tells us to have a good day and waves with another grin. As he drives away I can see in his mind that he's still grinning. Resisting the urge to do so myself and knowing it won't help my cause, I watch Bella carefully, still dangling the keys out of my right hand.
I wait for her temper to kick in, feeling a small twinge of guilt at how tired she looks. Suddenly she sighs. "This is a very expensive car."
"It is." There isn't any point in denying that fact, Bella is far too intelligent for any attempt at denying the truth. Her brow furrows. Before she can protest I continue, forcing my tone to stay reasonable though her refusal to let me take care of her in these simple ways is, as always, frustrating. "I didn't however, actually buy this car. It's only on...loan."
Gorgeous eyes snap to mine. "Loan?"
"Yes. Consider this your 'before' car."
"Before. As in...?" she arches an eyebrow, careful as always not to say anything out loud no matter whether we are alone or not.
"Yes," I smile. "As in." I'm still holding the keys and she bites her lip, eyeing them warily as though they are dangerous.
"So would I be right in assuming that means there is an 'after' car?"
Ah, always so quick. "Yes," I reply quietly, still waiting for her temper but once again seeing no point in denial.
Instead of anger she looks at me closely for a long minute. With a sudden deep sigh her shoulders relax. "If I take those keys and don't complain, will you promise not to tell me about the after car until...after?"
My answer is quick, without hesitation. "Yes." I'm excited about her after car, but keeping silent is a small price to pay to have her accept this one.
"Okay," she sighs again. She seems to need a second to steel herself before reaching out slowly to take the keys from my hand. The urge to smile when her warm fingers slide against mine removing the negligible weight of the key is nearly impossible to confine.
Yet another sigh escapes her throat, and she shakes her head giving me a tired but amused smile. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to this." Before I can answer she slips into my arms and presses her lips to mine in a slow kiss that burns the sweetest fire through my cold body. "Thank you, Edward," she whispers in a voice just as sweet as the kiss. I pull her close and relish the little tremor of desire that skates down her spine when I deepen the kiss, the soft moan that spills from mouth to mine.
"You're welcome," I whisper back, just before sweeping her up in my arms and heading for the house. There is still a shiny black unlimited credit card that will need to make its way from my wallet to hers sometime today, but I'm thinking it might help if I ease some of the tension my first gift has brought before that happens.
How lucky it is that we have an empty house and a quiet Saturday morning before us...
A/N - IMPORTANT - Defrosting Edward has currently been placed on temporary hiatus while I finish my other WIP, Falling Beyond Redemption. Due to the amount of work and time that story requires it's become way too hard to juggle both. I promise though that I am not abandoning this story and will return in the future to finish it. I respecfully ask for your patience and understanding in the mean time. Huge thank you to all my faithful wonderful readers and reviewers who have fed the greedy lemon tree and shown me and this story such incredible support.
A/N July 5/2010 - DFE has been nominated for a Vampie award in the Fangbanged (Best Smut) category! So cool! I am beyond honored and doing a dorky happy dance. :-) If you've enjoyed this lemon monstrosity and at any time felt a little hot and steamy after reading, I would love to have your vote. The link can be found on my profile page or just google Twilight Vampie awards. Even if you don't want to vote for DFE I'd still love it if you'd take a minute to visit the site and show some support to the many other writers who have helped ease the ache left from the "fade to black" scenes from the series, lol. Seriously though, the support you show to whomever you choose to vote for goes a long way and I assure you is hugely appreciated.
To my Falling Beyond Redemption readers, that story too has been nominated under the categories, The Poisoned Apple (Best Angst) and Bloody Brilliant (Best Overall). Figured I'd throw that into the ring as well just in case you're so inclined to vote and while I'm already groveling unashamedly... Okay, so I'm a little ashamed, but not enough not to grovel, lol.