The Arranged Marriage
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I was shocked too. After all this time, don't we all know this? Also, if I haven't given you permission to use my plot, please don't.
A/N: First of all, I'm sorry that I haven't responded to all the reviews this week. I do appreciate each and every one of them and I'm going to do my best to get through everything this coming week.
Thank you to Jenny Cullen, bonnysammy, and swimom7 for betaing and pre-reading this. They make my writing so much better and make sure that all the commas are in place. You ladies are the very best and I adore you.
Chapter 28: Christmas
BPOV
I had forgotten how long the days around Christmas were. After Mom and Edward reemerged from wherever they'd been, we ate dinner. Neither Mom nor Edward would say anything about what they'd been doing, but there wasn't much opportunity to ask.
Mom insisted that we watch White Christmas and even though it was one of my favorites, I fell asleep on Edward's shoulder before Bing Crosby appeared on the Ed Sullivan show. I wanted to spend more time with him—and my parents—but I was just too tired. I woke only when Edward lifted me into his arms and started up the stairs.
"Shh, love, go back to sleep," he whispered. "I've got you."
"Mmm," I mumbled, unable to get more than that out at the moment. But it was comforting being in his embrace, so I snuggled a little closer.
When we got up to the bedroom, I felt-rather than saw-the door open, and Edward gently lay me on the bed. Carefully, he tugged off my pants and tucked me under the covers. I was too tired to protest, and I knew that tomorrow morning would come very early. Minutes later, I felt the bed dip behind me, and Edward's warm arm covered my waist. That's all it took to send me into dreamland.
It was quite warm when I woke, mostly because Edward's body was draped around my back. It was still early, considering there were no children in the house to insist upon seeing Santa's presents in the house, so I took a moment to snuggle further into Edward's embrace. Then, I snuggled right into his erection.
With a grin, I wriggled out of his arms and ran to the bathroom. Once my business was done, I took the time to admire my husband, now laying on his back. The blankets had ridden down, exposing his torso. He looked so good like that, and I couldn't contain the idea that had taken residence as soon as I felt him. It was Christmas morning, after all.
Carefully, so as not to wake him yet, I climbed back in the bed and scooted down underneath the covers. Fortunately, his pajama pants were loose enough that I was able to shimmy them over his hips, with only a slight shift from him.
There before me, just waiting for me proudly, was Edward in all his glory. I reached out and ran my forefinger up and down his length, watching with interest as he twitched in response. Several glances up to check on Edward revealed that he was still fast asleep, even if his arm was now thrown over his eyes.
On my next pass, I wrapped my fingers around him and pumped him twice, before kissing the head. A slightly salty fluid was leaking out, and I lapped it up. It wasn't as bad as I had heard, and certainly was better than the morning mouth I was sporting. Before I could second guess myself, I lowered my mouth around him and sucked in on my way back up.
I had no idea what I was doing, but the little moans issuing from Edward seemed to indicate that I was doing something right. It wasn't for nothing that I'd sat through years of listening to Alice and Rose describe technique.
It wasn't until I grazed him with my teeth that I realized he had woken and was staring at me in confusion, wonder, and pure lust.
"Bella, baby . . . ugh, God, that's . . . what are you . . ."
Another moan cut off his question, and instead of answering him, I showed him. His hand tangled into my hair, but he didn't push. He only guided me and gave me an idea of what he liked. Several times, I ran my teeth lightly against him, and each time, the moan he released spurred me on more. Faster and harder I went, trying to pretend I was licking a really warm popsicle when I would gag. His grunts and curses turned me on even more, and I resolved to work harder.
"Shit! Bella-" he grunted and tugged on my hair. "I'm gonna . . . oh, God. Baby . . ."
Just like Rose had instructed more than a year ago, I kept going and tried to take him in as far as I could. Within seconds, his hands tightened, and a string of expletives mixed with my name poured from his mouth as he shot streams of the most foul thing ever into my mouth.
There was no way it was going down my throat. Not a chance. All I could think as I ran to the bathroom was that Rose lied. I tried to discreetly spit into the sink, but the texture gagged me, and I heaved. I didn't want Edward to see this, but there was no way for me to move out of his line of sight. As quickly as I could, I rinsed my mouth with the extra strength Listerine he always brought.
I could feel my face burning as I returned to the bed, but Edward was still lying there with his eyes closed. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide for a minute, but his arms shot out and pulled me into him. While still holding me, he yanked up the covers and kissed the side of my head.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
My face flamed again. "Uh, yeah. I'm . . . sorry? It just doesn't taste very good," I mumbled, hiding my face in his shoulder. All my attempts at being sexy this morning had been shot to Hell.
His chest shook with his amusement. "No, I don't imagine it does. Hey, look at me," he continued in a soft and tender voice.
My eyes lifted slightly, and he pushed up on my chin.
"Thank you. That was . . . incredible. Completely unexpected, but incredible." His voice and smile were sincere.
I kissed his lips gently and whispered, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," he returned, tightening his arms around me and kissing me gently. He held me like that for several minutes, and finally, I pulled back slightly, only to see a strange, but thoughtful look on his face.
My heart plummeted. "Did I not do it right?" I whispered, trying desperately to hold back the tears that were building behind my eyes.
"What!" Edward exclaimed. "Of course you did. It was,"—he cast about for the appropriate word— "amazing. Why would you think that?"
"You're frowning," I told him flatly, and I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice.
"No, no, no!" he cried, kissing my face repeatedly. "I was just thinking about how surprised I was. That's all."
"Surprised?" I lifted my eyebrow at him.
He blustered. "I just . . . after . . . it's Christmas . . . that's not something . . ."
I placed my fingertips against his lips. "I don't understand."
Indecision flashed across his features, and I could tell that he was wrestling with something. "I just didn't expect that to be something you would do, that's all," he finally said quietly, but hurriedly.
I blinked. "Did you mind?" I was sure it was something he'd enjoyed.
"No! Not at all," he hastened to assure me. "I just didn't think that was something you'd ever do with me."
I snorted. "Then who am I going to do it with?" An errant thought niggled at the back of my mind and came rushing forward. We'd talked about this at Zafrina's months ago.
I sucked in a huge breath. It hadn't really crossed my mind this morning when I'd decided to take him in my mouth. My body shot up, and I leaned against the headboard, staring out over my room and trying to sort through my feelings.
"Fuck!" I heard Edward mutter under his breath behind me. His arms slithered around my waist, and he tugged my back to his chest; his legs curled around the outside of mine, and he held me tightly.
"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm such an ass. I wasn't trying to ruin this Christmas, too," he murmured, and I could hear the pain in his voice. "Christ! I'm a fucking idiot!"
I wound my hands around his forearms as they rested around my stomach, and I leaned back into his embrace, taking comfort in his proximity and love.
"It's okay, really." I tilted my head so I could see his face and almost recoiled at the pain I saw etched there.
"No, it's not."
"Edward," I said in the strongest voice I could muster, "it's okay. It's going to sound weird, but it didn't even occur to me that it would be the same. It didn't feel the same to me."
He cocked his head to the side so I could see his face, and gave me a confused look. "How do you mean?"
I shrugged. "I thought it would feel demeaning and that I would think about your past with her while you stood over me. But it didn't. I felt powerful, like I was in charge and responsible for your pleasure. I was giving that to you."
"So I ruined it when I brought it up," he said flatly, with a dangerous dose of self-loathing.
"No! I mean, I hadn't really thought about it because the position and all was so different, but now that I think about it, I don't think it compares," I tried to explain, but I wasn't sure if I was getting my point across.
"Oh, it didn't compare all right. Second best feeling in the world, I think," he said with a smile, and pulled me even closer.
"Only second best?" I asked, pretending to be affronted.
He kissed my cheek and grinned boyishly. "There's nothing better than being inside you, baby."
I laughed, and the tension around us shattered. We'd pulled through another hurdle, stronger than before. I still wasn't sure that I'd ever fall to my knees in front of him, but hovering over him, controlling him—that I could do any day of the week.
"Merry Christmas, baby," he whispered, turning me in his arms and laying me against the pillows as he hovered over me.
"Merry Christmas," I murmured and leaned up to capture his lips with mine.
His hands wondered over my pajamas and plunged underneath to touch my skin. Involuntarily, my back arched, pushing my body further into his strong hands.
"Eager, love?" he asked with smile against my lips. He didn't wait for me to respond, though. His long fingers tucked underneath my waistband and caressed my folds on the outside of my panties. I completely lost my focus and just moaned into his mouth, grinding wantonly against his hand.
In an instant, his fingers pushed inside me, and I lost all ability to reason. Higher and higher I flew, until I couldn't fly any higher, and just fell, whimpering his name, over the edge and into oblivion. When I opened my eyes, I could hardly believe that I was still laying in bed with this man, my husband, who brought me to new heights with just a touch.
"Mmm," I mumbled, "Merry Christmas, indeed."
Edward just laughed and crawled off the bed. "Come on, sleepyhead. We need to get dressed and go on downstairs. There are presents to open!"
A quick glance over at the clock showed that it was already nine o'clock. I squeaked and jumped from the bed. Brunch was planned for eleven-thirty, and I wasn't sure if I'd have time to shower later. I grabbed Edward's arm and dragged him with me into the bathroom.
"Let's shower now. I don't want to give Mom the chance to cook today."
Edward laughed again, and I reveled in the happy sound. He'd been so worried in the last few weeks that it was nice to see him let go for a little while.
Our shower took us a little longer than it should have, mostly because we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves, though Edward hadn't recovered quite fully enough for more intimate activities. Once we were dressed, we walked down to the living room together and spied my mother bringing in our coffee cups.
"I heard the shower," she said by way of explanation.
Of course, I blushed as I realized that she only heard one shower and that she would know what that meant. Sure, I'd been married for two years, but the thought of my mother knowing what we did when we were alone freaked me out a little. My rational side reminded me that if they didn't know, I wouldn't be here, and that just made me a little nauseated. Instead, I concentrated on the mound of presents beneath the tree.
Angela was planning to come by later today to pick up gifts for her and Ben, and we'd kept Grandmother's for brunch today so we could see her open it. Not that I thought she'd really care, but after spending the evening with her a couple of days ago, and remembering my own loneliness—in a house full of people, no less—I found myself wanting to have those little experiences with her.
Dad played Santa and doled out the stacks of gifts. Edward thumbed through mine and removed two, mouthing, "Later." Mine was still the largest stack.
Dad loved the GPS fish finder and flannel shirts we got him and the new rods and reels from my mother. There were some other boxes in his stack, but after assuring us that they contained T-shirts and underwear, we agreed to not make him hold them up for the camera.
Mom's pajama set, robes, and work-out clothes were almost as big a hit as the art set I found for her. She looked through each item and told me exactly how she thought she would use them. Dad frowned at the full length pants and long sleeve shirt of the pajamas, but grudgingly admitted that the satin felt nice. I didn't even want to imagine why he cared, and I shivered, trying to get the image out of my head.
Mom and Dad had us each open their gifts first. There were the usual boxes of clothes, books, and a gift card for Edward. Then, she produced a long, flat box and handed it to both of us.
"It's a joint gift. Open ended, of course, but we thought—"
Dad cut her off. "Just let them open it, Renee."
Edward quickly peeled off the paper, and I lifted the lid. Inside were two vouchers for airline tickets to the Caribbean.
"Mom, this is . . . great, but . . . too much," I spluttered in shock.
She pursed her lips, shook her head, and held out her hand in front of her. "Nonsense. You didn't really get to have a honeymoon, and you two need a vacation. Enjoy—on us."
I sprang off the couch and wrapped my arms around both of them as best I could. "Thank you!" I cried, sniffling back tears. "Thank you."
Dad patted me on the back, and Mom returned my squeeze. "You're welcome. We love you," Mom whispered, her own tears making her voice thick.
Edward was right behind me when I stood, and I was surprised when he hugged both of my parents and expressed what was nothing short of heartfelt thanks.
"Now, open the rest!" Renee squealed, clapping her hands in excitement at what we'd gotten each other.
I motioned for Edward to go first. Of course, he chose the largest gift in the bunch and quickly revealed one of the TVs we'd purchased on Black Friday. He laughed loudly. "Seriously? I actually helped buy my own present? That's awesome! Thank you!"
I rolled my eyes. "I told you that was how we worked, and now we can have a bigger screen than your tiny little thing in our room."
"Nice. You bought me a gift for both of us," he teased. "Open one of yours now."
Back and forth, we went, opening clothes, his underwear—which made him blush and slam the lid closed much like my dad had—and some movies, until there were only three gifts left.
Edward lifted the flat box carefully and eased the paper off. "You got me an iPad?" he whispered incredulously. "How did you? When? Oh, wow. Thank you, Bella!" He practically leaped across the boxes between us and kissed me hard.
I laughed at his exuberance. "You're welcome. I already downloaded a couple of your books and Words With Friends for you."
His eyes shone with his love for me, and he kissed me again, resting his forehead on mine. "This is perfect." Then, he pulled back and gave me a wicked smile. "Now, open this one."
The box he handed me was wide and flat, clearly jewelry of some kind. I forced the smile on my face, not wanting him to feel badly for something that he had taken a lot of care to buy. He was obviously excited about it, but all it brought to mind was that necklace he'd given me last year.
With trembling fingers, I slowly lifted the paper and confirmed the dark blue stamp of a local jeweler. I took a deep breath and lifted the lid, trying to fight off the nausea and tears.
When the lid came off, though, my eyes didn't alight on gold and precious gems. There was no necklace or earrings in sight. Instead, there was a simple photograph, with a sticky note on it that read, "Come find me in the garage."
I peeled it off carefully and blinked the tears away. The picture wasn't blurry at all, but I couldn't wrap my mind around what I was seeing. "What?" I asked in confusion. "What is this?"
Edward gave me a small, understanding smile and ran his palm down the side of my head. "Just look at it, sweetheart."
There, in the picture, was my bed. Well, not mine, per se, but the one I'd fallen in love with at the antique mall.
"How? Oh, Edward, it's too much!" I cried.
"Nah, he made me a good deal since I only took the bed. It's the one you wanted, right?" he asked, suddenly sounding unsure.
"God, yes!" I cried, jumping into his arms.
He hugged me tightly and whispered, "Merry Christmas," into my ear.
"There's one more here," Mom called, bringing me out of my haze.
Edward pulled back and ran his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away the moisture there.
"These are good tears, right?" he asked.
I nodded. "Very good tears," I confirmed.
"Good, because this next one is kind of for us both. If there's anything you don't like, we can change it, okay?" He seemed really nervous about the cylindrical package waiting with a bow on top.
I nodded and tentatively removed the bow. The end slid out of the tube. Stuffed inside was a roll of papers, and I carefully pulled them out and laid them across our laps. Blue markings covered each page, and I saw words like "Master Bedroom," "Guest Bath," and "Kitchen" in some of the squares.
"What is this?" I asked, looking at Edward, who was twisting his hands and bouncing his leg.
"They're, uh, blueprints. For our house," he said.
I gave him a funny look. "But our house doesn't look anything like this," I argued.
He sighed and took my hands in his. "But it could. If you wanted it to."
I stared into his earnest eyes, and then flicked my eyes back to the sheaf of papers on my knees. Understanding dawned, and I gasped, my eyes seeking his out once again for confirmation.
"Some of the family's land is mine and I thought we could build our own place there, if you wanted to. It would still be close enough that we could see them whenever we wanted, but be far enough away to be our own space, just you and me," he rambled.
I couldn't take it anymore and pressed my lips to his to shut him up. "I love it," I murmured with our mouths still fused together. "Thank you!"
"I love you," he told me honestly as he leaned back.
I grinned. "I love you, too. We're going to have our own house," I squealed and did a little dance in my seat.
My parents laughed at my antics and came over and congratulated both of us. Dad reached for the plans and struck up a conversation with Edward about what he'd had drawn up. As much as I wanted to hear that, though, I couldn't, because my mother was dragging me away to the kitchen.
"We need to get brunch on," she told me. "And I wanted some time with just you." Her wrinkled up nose and bright grin made me smile and laugh, just as it always had.
Side by side, we worked in the kitchen, making sausage gravy, sausage patties, biscuits, muffins, bacon, cut fruit, and a cheese tray. I was doing the scrambled eggs last, so they wouldn't get cold, but my grandmother breezed into the kitchen and plucked the whisk right out of my hand.
"Good morning, Isabella," she said cheerfully, and hip bumped me out of the way with a wink.
"Good morning, Grandmother," I said, somewhat confused by her casual attitude and attire. She was wearing some sort of hunter green track suit. With tennis shoes.
As if it was the most normal thing in the world, she started whipping the eggs, and then poured them into the large skillet we'd set aside.
"Renee, dear, I brought champagne for mimosas. Could you prepare them for us?" she called over her shoulder.
My mother was still standing stock-still, staring at her mother in shock.
"Renee?" she asked again when she'd gotten no response.
That snapped my mother out of her trance, and I giggled at the look on her face. "Of course, Mother."
Grandmother chatted idly, reminiscing about making Christmas breakfasts in years past when Mom was little.
"Mother," Mom cut in, "Ana Rosa always made Christmas breakfast."
Grandmother looked affronted. "She most certainly did not! Ana Rosa spent Christmas morning with her five children and that louse of a husband she was married to."
"But . . ." Mom floundered and cast about for a lifeline. It seemed that her perceptions of her entire life were all changing this weekend.
"No buts. Did you honestly think I'd force Ana Rosa to work on Christmas and make us all breakfast? Do you really think your father would have allowed that?" Grandmother asked incredulously.
"Well, I just always thought . . ."
Before I could hear the end of that statement, I picked up my mimosa and scooted out the kitchen door and away from them.
Edward met me as he and Dad were coming into the dining room.
"Where's your mother?" Dad asked suspiciously.
I giggled as the bubbles from the champagne tickled my nose. "She's relearning her entire life in the kitchen."
"Honestly, Renee!" we heard Grandmother say. "Did you really think I couldn't scramble eggs?"
Edward breathed a sigh of relief, and both Dad and I turned to him.
"What?" He shrugged. "I thought Renee was cooking."
All three of us burst into laughter, and Mom and Grandmother walked into the room carrying plates of food at just that moment.
"Dear me, what's so funny?" Grandmother asked with a smile.
Dad shook his head and tried to control his guffaws. His mustache kept twitching, and I had to look away before it sent me into convulsions again.
"I didn't cook, I swear," Mom dead-panned, and we all broke into laughter again.
Grandmother laughed and slid the pan of eggs onto the table, and we all took our places. After Dad said grace and expressed his thankfulness for our presence, we all tucked into the mountain of food on the table. There was scattered conversation while we ate, and it was strange to see my grandmother act human. I'd spent so many years seeing her as this prim and proper, over-shadowing presence that I was having a hard time reconciling what was in front of me.
"Oh, there are two presents that didn't get opened this morning," Edward interjected during a lull in our conversation at the end of the meal. He lifted the one for my grandmother and the box with the ornament from beside his chair. With a casualness I knew he didn't feel, he handed them over to their respective owners.
Grandmother rummaged in her purse and produced some cards, one for Mom, one for Dad, and one for Edward and me. Ours, at least, contained money, and I suspected that my parents' did, too, but we thanked her and appreciated it all the same. It occurred to me that it could be spending money for the trip that my parents had gotten us.
Grandmother carefully opened the flat package and stared in disbelief at the new tennis racket in her hands.
"I called the tennis pro at the club," I said quietly. "He gave me all of the details on what you needed, and I had it designed for you."
With a tight voice and teary eyes, Grandmother smiled at me and patted my hand. "Thank you so much, Isabella. It's perfect. Oh, and you, too, Edward."
Mom started tearing into the small box, and with a creased brow, handed it over to my dad. He took in the picture on the box, and his head snapped up, whipping back and forth between the two of us. "Is this?" he whispered, and opened the box with trembling hands.
The bubble wrap slipped off, and he stared at the little ornament in his hand. "How did you . . ." he whispered thickly, cutting off when it became too much.
"Edward took it when we were putting up the tree," I told him with a small smile.
His chair scooted back suddenly, and he rounded the table. He stood directly in front of Edward's chair, and I watched as my husband rose to meet my father warily. I couldn't read my dad's mood, so I was startled when he embraced Edward tightly and whispered quietly, "Thank you. Thank you for giving me my daughter back."
When they released each other, Dad stepped to me, and I hugged him tightly. "I love you, Daddy," I told him, and I heard him sniffle as he responded in kind.
Dad cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, now. I suppose Edward and I have a kitchen to clean up. You ladies go cue up the movies, and we'll join you shortly." With no more preamble, he grabbed two plates and turned to the kitchen.
Mom's eyes followed his every move, and a watery smile graced her face. She reached across the table and patted my hand. "Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to him."
I thought I did, though, because being here with my family and seeing that tie to the childhood I'd lost so suddenly meant the world to me.
Mom and Grandmother urged me out of my chair, and I followed them back into the living room, where our presents were still scattered. With patience and apprehension thick in her voice, Grandmother asked Mom about her art set and what she was planning to do with it. This was the root of their problem with each other—they lived in two completely different worlds.
Mom smiled and launched into a monologue about painting something for the guest room that would "symbolize" the beach. Grandmother looked confused and asked her why she didn't just paint the beach. And so it went for the next thirty minutes. Mom told Grandmother about her life, and my grandmother struggled to understand it. The idea of a woman working for pleasure was so foreign to her that she'd let it be a wedge between them for years. I didn't think it would dislodge in one day, but seeing the two of them together, I had hopes that it would eventually.
For my part, I poured over the plans that Edward had drawn up. From what I could tell, the house wasn't overly large, but there were still five bedrooms, a large kitchen, a formal sitting room, a living room, four bathrooms, and an entertainment room spanning the entire basement.
"Why do we need five bedrooms?" I asked when he finally made his way into the room.
He blushed and looked down sheepishly. "Well, I wasn't planning on moving. And even though we haven't really talked about it, I thought we might need them some day."
"Well, of course you'll need them someday!" Grandmother interjected, as though our conversation hadn't been semi-private. "You need to think about these things and plan for them, Isabella."
I was still lost, and it didn't escape me that I was the only one. "I need to plan to use five bedrooms?" I asked tentatively.
Mom and Dad noticeably looked at anything but me, and Edward was staring at his feet, his face pink and his eyes closed. Only my stodgy old grandmother was still with me.
And then, she wasn't so stodgy and just downright shocking. "Come now, Isabella. You've been married for two years. You're a smart girl—you know where babies come from. Frankly, with the way that boy looks at you, I'm surprised you haven't made me a great-grandmother yet. And if I remember correctly from the wedding, his siblings are twins, so you need to be prepared for that."
I was fairly sure I'd stopped breathing somewhere around the word "babies," and I hadn't restarted. Dimly, I was aware that my grandmother was making insinuations about our sex life, but I couldn't focus on the individual words. Snippets like "twins" and "babies" were floating around my brain and conjuring images that terrified and thrilled me at the same time.
I could see them—a little boy with messy copper hair and a little girl with reddish waves playing on the lawn in their Easter clothes, holding baskets of plastic eggs and laughing at each other. They tugged at my heart, and for the first time, I really considered what it would be like to have Edward's children. At the same time, I'd only recently become responsible for myself. How could anyone expect me to be responsible for someone else?
Edward's voice, warm and reassuring in my ear, finally pulled me out of my daze. "We don't have to worry about that now, Bella. I was just thinking ahead. Not until you're ready, okay? We have all the time in the world."
I sucked in a breath and nodded, letting his presence and calm wash away the remaining panic. And instead of returning to that subject, I focused back on his present. "I like the plans, but can he, I don't know, draw something up so I can see what it would look like?"
He smiled. "Sure. As I said, though, these are still just plans, so if there is anything you want to change, we still have time."
Mom took pity on me and redirected everyone's attention to the television, where she had started our traditional marathon of Christmas movies. Grandmother took her leave after Miracle on 34th Street, and Angela stopped by in the middle of A Christmas Story. She and Ben were on their way to his grandparents' house for his family's celebration, so we didn't have long, but it was great to see her again, regardless.
As we were leaving early in the morning, we called it a night and threw everything back in our suitcases before we went to bed. I thought ahead to the Christmas plans we had the next night and gasped.
"Oh no! Edward, we didn't call your parents!"
He gave me a sad smile. "I did. I called them when you were cooking with your mom. Everyone said to tell you 'Merry Christmas,' and Emmett made me promise not to let your mom poison you."
I collapsed on to the bed. "I feel terrible, though. I didn't get to talk to them today."
He shrugged. "I'm sure they understand, but you can call them now if you want to. It's only ten o'clock."
I whipped out my phone and dialed Alice, who I was sure was in charge of some family get together, but it went straight to voicemail. I left her a message and sighed. I really had been a crappy friend lately.
Edward was kind enough to hold me while I cried and beat myself up with guilt, promising that I would make it up to him and to the rest of them the next day. Despite his assurances that they wouldn't be mad, I couldn't help feeling like I hadn't treated them well, either—I'd been too focused on me.
Mom and Dad got up to see us off, and they made us promise that we wouldn't wait too long to visit again. That was one promise that wouldn't be hard to see through. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed them until my world crashed down, and now, I'd manage to rebuild the entire thing into something much better from the ashes.
The whole family was waiting for us when we got home a little after lunch. Emmett was rubbing his hands together in anticipation, and practically dragged us into the living room. Esme laughed and pulled me away from his clutches to give me a big hug.
I was expecting to see some presents still around the tree. After all, Edward and I still hadn't opened any of our gifts from the others, and they hadn't opened ours. What I wasn't expecting was to see almost all of the presents still there.
"What happened here?" I asked, stilling in the doorway in my shock.
Esme smiled at me and led me over to the couch. "We decided to wait for you. We did spouse gifts yesterday, but thought the rest of them could wait until today."
Edward wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Thanks, Mom."
Emmett apparently couldn't wait. He started tossing presents to each of us in turn, and shaking those that belonged in his pile. When everyone was seated, he wasted no time in tearing into his pile. Jasper and Alice got him some new clothes and some steel-toed boots. Apparently, one of the horses had trampled on his old ones a few too many times.
When he got to our box, he carefully stripped the paper off and stared at the picture. "What's with the lamp?" he finally asked.
I burst into laughter, and Rose smacked him on the back of the head. "Way to be ungrateful, asshole," she scolded him.
"But, babe!" Emmett protested.
I reined in my laughter enough to protest on his behalf. "No, really, Rose. That's what he was supposed to say! There was a commercial a few years ago, and the whole man cave was decorated in NFL merchandise, except for one lamp. The tag line was 'What's with the lamp?'"
Everyone else laughed at her stunned reaction, and he shoved the Packers lamp at her proudly. "I'm putting it next to my bed, babe."
"Yeah, in your bedroom maybe," she muttered.
The rest of the family was pleased with their gifts, and so were Edward and I. It seemed that Esme and Carlisle had been informed about our upcoming move, because their gifts were centered around new furnishings for the new space.
TaM
Later that evening, Edward handed me the two boxes he'd pulled out of my stack at my parents' house. "Here, you can open these now."
Curiously, I tore off the paper and lifted the lid of the first box. Nestled inside a mound of tissue paper was a gorgeous black and red corset, with garters and a matching thong. My eyes widened at the sight, and I hastily opened the other box. That one contained a dark blue bra and panty set with stars all over it.
"Um, well, I can see why you didn't want me to open these in front of my parents," I teased. Secretly, though, I couldn't wait to see his reaction when I put them on. The red number would be perfect to wear underneath my dress on New Year's Eve.
"So," Edward said playfully, "is there any chance I might be able to convince you to try these on?"
I grinned at him, snatched up one of the boxes, and sashayed to the bathroom. It didn't take long to shed my clothes and slip into the new lingerie. I waited a few extra minutes to settle my nerves, and then cracked the bathroom door.
Just like the night we'd been together for the first time, the room was awash in candlelight. Edward leaned against the headboard, wearing only a pair of the grey, microfiber boxer briefs I'd gotten him for Christmas. It was a drool-worthy sight, and it took everything I had in me not to launch myself across the room and straddle him.
Instead, I stepped out slowly and walked calmly across the room, crawling up next to him as I reached him.
"You like?" I asked, running my hand down my side between the demi bra and the barely there bikinis.
Edward was practically choking on his tongue. "Like? Oh, baby, like doesn't even begin to cover it."
His hands stretched out and ran down my body, hovering just over it, without touching. I could feel the pulse from his hand as it skimmed over my flesh. I strained against my own body, my eyes begging him to touch me, to break the barrier he'd set between us.
On the third pass, he bent his head to mine and captured my lips in a passionate kiss. His hands connected with my skin, and I shivered at his touch. We wasted no time in letting our hands wander, though. The bra that he'd admired so much and that I'd just put on flew off the bed, just before his mouth disconnected from mine.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, while holding my breasts in his hands and gazing appreciatively at my naked form. Then, he ducked his head and laved my breast with attention. His tongue darted everywhere, and my eyes rolled back at the pleasure.
They snapped back open, though, when I felt his very talented fingers caressing me underneath the scrap of fabric that claimed to be underwear. It wasn't just that. His boxers had gotten lost somewhere in our fumbling, and I could feel him, hard and insistent against my thigh. I wanted to shift my hips ever so slightly and have him fill me.
I ran my hands down my body and hooked them in the sides of my panties. Edward's hand stilled mine.
"Leave them alone," he ordered, but his voice was lusty.
"Oh, did you want to do that?" I asked coquettishly.
A grin spread across his face. "No, I want to fuck with them still on."
I couldn't help it. I groaned—loudly. "Oh, please!"
Edward held them to one side and repositioned himself between my legs. Without warning, he thrust into me and moaned.
"Jesus Christ, Bella. I swear you feel better every time."
Edward was on his knees between my legs, with my thighs over his arms and his hands grasping my hips. I could see everything he was doing to me, and the sight of him pushing in and out of me, slick with my own juices, with my panties still on, thrilled me more than I could say. It was almost like he'd wanted me so much that he couldn't even wait to get me fully undressed before he took me. That thought and the image in front of me sent me spiraling over the edge.
Edward kept pounding into me, but now his head was bent so that he could watch, too. His forehead was creased, but judging by the increasing volume of his grunts, I didn't think it was in unhappiness. When he shifted, the underwear grazed my now swollen clit. The force of my second orgasm caught both of us completely off guard, and Edward practically collapsed on top of me as he spilled inside me.
"That . . . was . . . one of the . . . hottest . . . things I've ever seen," he mumbled into my shoulder.
I laughed weakly, mostly because I didn't even have the ability to say anything. I was completely spent. It seemed Edward was, too, because he simply rolled off me, pulled the covers up over us and held me as we both fell fast asleep, sated and happy.
TaM
The next couple of days were busier than I expected. Edward disappeared into his office for a couple of hours, and I spent time with Esme, Rose, and Alice. There were a lot of things still to repair in those relationships and not all of it was their fault. Regardless, it was nice to talk about girly things, like spa trips, presents we'd gotten for Christmas, and of course, our men. Rosalie told us about a new exhibit at the museum and encouraged us all to come to the gala for its opening. As usual, Alice jumped on it enthusiastically and started jabbering to Rosalie about what we should all wear.
I didn't really care. Neither, apparently, did Esme, because we both just sank back into the couch and listened to them prattle.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to, Bella," Esme whispered, as they made another layer of plans. "I'm sure they'll understand."
While I didn't agree with her that my sister-in-laws would understand, I considered her option openly. I didn't have to go, and she was leaving the choice up to me. More than anything, that's all I'd ever wanted. "I know, but I think it would be fun to all go out together again. We haven't gotten to do anything like this since Halloween." I paused, then continued, "I appreciate being given the choice, though."
She smiled at me maternally. "Of course, dear. Why don't we sneak out of here and go pick out our own clothes, just to mess with Alice?" She winked, and I giggled and nodded.
Quietly, we tiptoed out of the room and went to her closet first. She truly had some gorgeous gowns, but in the end, we settled on a deep burgundy one that hung off one shoulder and followed all of her curves, before gently flaring out around her legs. She hung it on the back of her door and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward my end of the house.
"Are you happy about the house?" she asked as we walked. I noticed that she made sure not to inject any inflection at all.
I squeezed her hand. "I am. I think it will be good for us to have our own space, but we'll still be close to all of you."
Her smile was sad in return. "I'll miss having you here, but I think you're right. You need some time to develop as a couple, doing the normal things. Everyone else got that as they dated, I suppose." I wondered if she feared a mass exodus when we left.
She seemed to shake off her melancholy, though, and eagerly helped me sort through the plethora of gowns that Alice had gotten me through the years. One in particular stood out to me, and it occurred to me that I'd never worn it. It was dark blue and strapless, with a bodice that hugged my torso and a full skirt. Hanging next to it was a black wrap that would go perfectly. Esme smiled at my choice and nodded in obvious approval.
When I turned around, Edward was leaning against the doorframe to our room with a wide smile on his face. "My two favorite women in one room—how'd I get so lucky?"
Esme laughed, and I chuckled under my breath, crossing the room to hug him.
"I think we're all going out for an early movie and maybe catch dinner afterwards, if that's all right with you," he stated.
"Actually, that sounds like a lot of fun," I said, and Esme agreed.
"Are we ready to go now?" she asked.
He nodded. "We're all meeting in the foyer in about fifteen minutes. Rose wanted to change." Edward rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
"Perfect." Esme slipped from the room, saying that she needed to get her purse and she'd meet us downstairs.
As soon as she was out of sight, Edward's mouth descended on mine and caught me in a powerful kiss. "I've missed you," he whispered after pulling away.
"Mmm," I murmured, "I've missed you, too." For a moment, I considered holing up in our room and refusing to come out, but then I considered that we hadn't spent a lot of time, out and about, with his family lately, and I was sure he wanted to.
So, with our hands clasped and swinging between us, we made our way down to where the rest of the family was waiting.
Emmett already had the list of the movies playing printed out, and he'd circled the ones with show times in the near future. He'd even made a copy, so he handed one to Edward, and then bounded out the door to plop down in Carlisle's car.
"O-kay," Edward muttered. "It looks like he's already got the driving arrangements figured out."
Edward slipped behind the driver's seat in Jasper's car, and I got in next to him. Alice asked for the movie listings and started debating the pros and cons of each potential selection. By the time we got to the mall where the theatre was located, we were no closer to picking a show to watch than we had been when we left.
Edward, Jasper, Emmett, Carlisle, and Esme approached the ticket window and were in deep discussion about which to see, while I stood a few feet away with Rosalie and Alice. The three of us decided that we really didn't care what we saw, and Rose started making plans to drag the guys into a few of the shops around us before we went to dinner.
I didn't hear anyone come up behind me, but I felt the unforgiving cylinder against my spine. Before Alice and Rose could react, strong arms pinned mine down and held me to the body behind me.
"Scream and I'll pull the trigger," a familiar voice warned low in my ear.
I whimpered and tried to call out for Edward, but there was no need. Alice started yelling as he dragged me away. One of his hands raised over my head as I worked up the nerve to scream—consequences be damned. He might shoot me here, but God only knew what he would do if I went with him.
The butt of the gun slammed down on my temple, and the world faded to black. The last thing I heard was my husband's panicked voice screaming.
"Bella!"
Ruh Roh, Raggy! James is back!
So, how did you like Christmas? What are some of your favorite Christmas memories?
Thanks for reading!
