I have to thank my a fantastic trio of friends for helping me with this: m0t0b33, teamalltwilight and Pyejammies! ;)

As always, I don't own anything Twilight related or anything else you might recognize in my story. I DO own the idea.

We'll just call them Hot Mama and Jailbait. :) Check the pictures in my FB group: Addicted-to-romione-bedward Fanfiction (link on my profile)

Bella's POV

An odd sound jerks me awake. It sounds like some tractor or something.

Then someone knocks on the door.

"We're saved!" I exclaim and rush to the door.

I'm surprised when the door actually opens because we couldn't make it budge the other day. In front of me is a ranger. He's made a path and snow is tall, on either sides.

Shit.

My poor Snowflake is buried somewhere under there. I hope they didn't hurt him with the excavator.

"Good morning, Miss!" the ranger greets me. "I'm sorry for waking you up," he apologizes, glancing down at me.

I'm still wearing the terrycloth bathrobe. I wrap it better around myself. "Thank you. My car's around here too," I tell him.

"We'll help you find it. I'm George, by the way."

I smile. "Bella," I tell him. "Please be careful, it's white so you may not see it."

"Don't worry, Miss. We have good equipment that sees what's under snow." He winks just as I feel a pair of arms slipping around my waist. "Hello, sir," George mumbles and turns to leave.

I turn to Edward and can't help but laugh at his horrible case of bed-hair.

"Now, you scared him off with your untamed mane." I ruffle his crazy hair, bringing his head down to kiss him.

"He was ogling you," he mumbles, kissing me softly. Then he finally looks outside and his eyes grow. "Whoa! So much snow."

"Yeah," I whisper, wrapping my fingers around his wrists that are around my stomach.

Edward grabs his winter jacket and boots, supervising the guys digging in the snow for my baby. We'll need it…eventually.

I go to make breakfast but get sidetracked by the mess we left on the table. After I clean around and move away some food from the fridge into the pantry – it's colder there now, I make scrambled eggs and put some juice in two glasses then run upstairs to dress a little more warmly before I take the food out.

Edward grins, telling me food could have waited.

"I was hungry," I admit. "I could eat your helping too."

"Someone lost calories and proteins?" he jokes.

"I'll probably lose some weight too at the rate we're going at it." I laugh, leaning up to kiss his stubbly cheek. "So, if we can leave the house now… Are we going skiing?"

"Today?" Edward glances at me then back at the guys digging for Snowflake.

"If you want…" I bite my lip. "We can push it for later…"

"I'm not sure we can drive anywhere…even if they bring out your car."

"You're right. Later." I nod, shoving a forkful of eggs in my mouth.

"We can have a snowball fight if you really want to stay outside," Edward suggests.

"I'm too old for that, but we can make a snowman."

"You're not old!" he demands.

"Boosting my ego gets you in my panties, Jailbait." I wink at him. "Pity I'm not wearing any," I add quietly.

Though, not quietly enough because George and his friends turn to stare at me shocked.

What did I say?

Surely there are lots of people skipping underwear, right?

"Bellllaaaa!" Edward whines, downing his juice. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Don't die yet, I need you." I reach up to kiss his lips. "And you need a shave. Seriously."

"Gonna shave then…you and me…bed. It's a date."

"No. You and me…out here, making a snowman!" I tell him sternly.

"Is snowman the new code for sex?"

"Edward!" I gasp, glancing at the men working on Snowflake. "Go, wash!" I push him inside the house. "And take this to the kitchen, too."

"I love you bossy," he says promptly making me slap his ass. "Oh, I missed your violent nature in the morning."

I laugh and watch his retreating form.

God, how I love that boy.

Soon, Snowflake is uncovered. I thank the men profusely for clearing the path and my car. They told me it's clean to the main road. I want to give them some money but they say it's their job, hop in their jeep and leave.

I decide to take a shower then take it from there.

The water's running when I get upstairs.

Hmmm.

Jailbait's in the shower. Tempting, so very tempting.

I shed my clothes and slide the glass door then step in the cabin with him. He doesn't hear me – his back facing the door, hands in his hair and…singing.

Seriously. He's singing.

Kind of Magic – Queen. Nice. Smooth.

I wrap my arms around his waist making him jump and squeak.

"Bella! Christ, you are definitely going to kill me."

"Never my intention," I whisper. "But don't stop on my account. Keep singing."

His face turns red and his eyes drop. "Yeah so I sing in the shower. That's when I'm not jacking off." He cringes then bangs his head to the wall.

I run my hand over his back wanting to soothe him and let him know I don't care what he's doing in the shower.

"Let me wash you," I whisper, hoping to take some of his embarrassment away.

Soon he's sitting on the small bench and I'm rubbing shampoo in his hair, stroking his scalp, paying attention to his crazy locks. I rinse carefully so as not to get any shampoo in his eyes.

I hate that shit and I bet everyone does.

Then I grab his shower gel and squirt some on my palm before starting to rub his shoulders, the wide plains of his back, kneading his muscles. I turn him so I can wash his arms and chest, his almost six pack, before I kneel and pay attention to his legs.

All the while, Edward stares at me with wide eyes, probably shocked I'm doing this.

I want this - I love taking care of him.

My ministrations wake the monster between his legs and I'm left debating what to do. Just wash him or ride him.

Decisions, decisions.

I run my soapy hand over the perineum making him buck his hips and moan, closing his eyes, his head falling back in ecstasy.

Ride him, it is.

I sit up and straddle his legs then slowly guide his erection inside me.

Ah. So damn good.

Better every time.

"Bella!" he shouts, his head snapping up like a springing clown's head. "Whoa!"

I press my chest to his, hugging him close as I start making small figure of eight movements with my hips. His hands come on my ass and he whimpers with every jerk of his hips.

My lips kiss everywhere I can reach – his face, his neck, his shoulders. Thankfully the water beating down on us washed the shower gel away.

We're so very close like this, we're actually making love – no urgency in our movements. Just our feelings showing through our joined bodies.

I don't know for how long we grind against each other but suddenly Edward moans loudly, crushing me tightly to him, spilling his seed. I've already come twice, but he seems on a mission as he raises me and buries his face in my womanhood.

For the lack of another expression – I'm riding his face and loving it.

When I come it's so violent that I have to brace myself with one hand on his head and one on the glass wall of the shower cabin.

Then we actually wash up and step out. I'm wobbly – compliments to Edward.

I wrap myself in a soft white towel and grab my toothbrush. Edward comes to stand next to me, ready to shave his beard.

"I'm partial to it," I murmur, touching his cheek.

He laughs loudly, heartily. "Want me to keep it?"

"Hmm," I hum, moving the toothbrush over my molars. I catch his eye in the mirror and shrug.

He smothers his face with shaving cream then leans down to kiss me, effectively putting some on my cheek.

"Edward!" I protest, pushing him away and washing my face then spitting the toothpaste and rinsing my mouth. "You little shit!"

"Thought it was funny," he says cheekily.

"It wasn't," I assure him, running the towel over my face then combing my hair. "I'm going to blow dry it then we're going out," I tell him, stepping out of the bathroom.

I have no idea why his silly gesture annoyed me so much, but I hate that shaving cream anywhere near me.

It's a man thing because I remember Dad used to do it to me when I was little, then one of my boyfriends in college, then Carlisle always kissed me when he had a foamy beard, now Edward.

Argh! Men.

I'm busy blow drying my hair, not hearing much because of the noise, but I see Edward coming in the room through the vanity mirror. He looks sheepish and all boyish with a blue towel around his hips and his crazy hair drying naturally, sticking in every direction.

I shut off the machine and set it on the vanity table. "Come here," I whisper, jerking my head to him, keeping our eyes locked through the mirror.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again," he mumbles, stopping next to me, leaning his ass against the table.

"It's okay, honey. I just don't like it," I explain.

"Duly noted." He winks, leans to drop a kiss on my forehead then goes to get dressed.

I turn the blow dryer on again, keeping my eyes on Edward. He drops the towel and bends to look through his clothes.

Damn.

He has a fine ass.

I watch as he steps in a pair of plaid boxers then he rummages deeper for a pair of flannel pants and a green sweater. He shrugs into a white shirt then pulls the sweater over his head, before he steps in his pants. He grabs a pair of socks and walks to the bed where he sits down and puts his socks on.

I swear I could watch him the whole day.

And my hair is extra dry – I look like some bad witch from a kiddie's story. Slowly, I tame my hair and go to dress myself.

Once we're both dressed appropriately for the cold weather, we step outside.

Two steps on the path, I catch some ice under my boots and yelp before landing on my ass.

Ow.

Fucking hurts.

"Shit, Bella!" Edward exclaims. "You okay?" He quickly helps me up.

"My ass will sport a huge bruise."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this…"

"I'm going crazy if we spend the day locked in the house. There's not much to do with the power still down."

Thank God for that battery operated blow dryer. I'd have pulled a muscle if I had to dry my hair with a towel.

"What then?" Edward shrugs.

"This." I smirk and bend my knee, hitting him behind his knees then I make sure to push him so he's on the ground.

"HEY!"

I laugh and make a snowball then throw it at his head.

"I thought you were too old for this shit," he mumbles.

"I don't see anything wrong in acting like a kid once in a while," I say quietly then throw another snowball at him.

Soon we're rolling around.

I swallow so much snow it's not even funny. I truly hope my sensitive tonsils won't give me hell.

We calm down eventually and go inside to find something to eat for lunch. Edward promises we'll make a snowman this afternoon.

We eat in front of the roaring fire, getting warm. Sitting on the soft carpet, my back against the couch, his against the wall near the fireplace, our feet entangled.

Everything is perfect.

I hope everyone had a nice night. :)

Next chapter will be up in a few days...