Apologies for our blatant inability to stick to our intended update schedule. We all have lives, and sometimes they throw unpredictable stuff our way.

Thanks for being patient xxx

Chapter 28

The air still holds a memory of the daytime warmth when we step outside the bar, pushing our way through the smokers who huddle up close in spite of the balmy evening. I catch Bella's hand in mine, marvelling at the way it fits perfectly in the curve of my palm, and we walk toward the line of cabs that idle alongside the sidewalk.

It's only when we are seated inside that the awkwardness begins. We were so intent on getting out of the bar-of being alone-that we didn't talk about where we were going next.

The clock on the dashboard of the cab reads 11:23PM. It's too late for dinner, too late to do much of anything other than take her home, but dropping her at her apartment is definitely the last thing I want to do.

The taxi drive turns around, a frown lining his brow. "Where to?"

I squeeze Bella's hand. "You want to come to mine?" I ask quietly. Her palm is warm and soft, and I can't help running my thumb over it.

"Um..." A look of panic crosses her face, and I realise how weird this must be for her-hell it's messed up for both of us-but the need to be with her overrides everything else.

"Just to talk," I say. "I'll make us a coffee and we can sit out in the yard. Emmett won't be back for a while by the looks of things." I smile, and her tight expression eases.

"They're both crazy," she says, her lips twitching. "Either they'll be the best of friends or they'll end up gouging each other's eyes out."

"Probably both," I reply, and then we collapse in laughter at the memory of tonight. "I can't believe she asked him to do that. It's the most disturbing thing I've ever seen."

"I can't believe he agreed."

"Still, it was good to see him smile." I rub my fingers across her slender wrist. "Thank you for letting me bring him along."

She looks at me, her angling her head to the side. "That's what friends do."

I'm not sure who she's referring to as a friend, me or Emmett, but my chest tightens in protest at the thought of simply being her friend. If I haven't made it clear enough that I want to be much more than a buddy to her, then I have a lot of work to do.

I lean forward and give the driver my address, then sit back and pull Bella close as we start to move, curling my hand around her upper arm as we crawl through the downtown streets. Her skin is cool and soft, and when I stroke her with the lightest of touches I feel goosebumps start to form. The thought that she feels this-that she is responding to me in the same way I react to her-excites me more than I can say. By the time we pull up outside the house I'm painfully hard, my whole body throbbing just from touching her.

Ten minutes later she's sitting next to me on the deck, with her hands curled around a cup of coffee, her eyes shining as she talks animatedly, telling me the story of Jess and Mike, a tale that mirrors that of Emmett and Rose. We share our frustrations at their inability to move on, at the crazy, masochistic attraction that keeps them going back for more.

I stare at her as she talks, watching the way her lips curl on one side when she becomes animated, and the way her eyes flash with indignation as she catalogues Mike's misdemeanors. The pale light from the moon casts a glow across her face, making her skin look peachy and warm.

"What are you thinking?" She asks softly, noticing my scrutiny.

I swallow hard, but when I speak there's still a break in my voice. "I'm thinking about how beautiful you are," I tell her. "About how perfect your lips look, and how desperate I am to touch them."

She takes a breath deep enough to make her chest rise up. I'm mesmerized by the curve of her breasts.

"What's stopping you?" she whispers.

Her question stops me in my tracks. How to even begin to catalogue all the things stacked against us? Clearing the few inches between us, I pull her into my arms, pressing my palms into the small of her back. "I've absolutely no idea."

I lean in, enough so she has to angle her head to look at me, and I stare at her lips, watching as the tip of her tongue peeks out to moisten them. The erection I managed to control when we left the cab comes back with full force, creating an ache that seems to pulsate from my head to my toes. I lift one hand up to cup the back of her head, and then I'm done for.

Her lips are soft as I remember, warm and welcoming as I press my mouth to hers. A small sigh escapes them, hot and sweet on my skin, and I run my tongue along her bottom lip, desperate for more.

The throb in my groin is echoed by the drumbeat of my heart as she opens her mouth, inviting me in. I slide my tongue inside, grazing it against hers, teasing, coaxing, until her hands reach up and her fingers curl around my neck.

I cup her face, angling her head so I can kiss her deeper. My thumbs run a trail along her cheekbones, my mouth hard against hers, demanding and insistent, refusing to let go.

When she presses herself against me, I feel her breasts against my chest, and the need to touch them is a craving a can't ignore. I lower a hand, trailing my fingers down her bare neck, along her collarbone, making her breath hitch as I move lower still.

"You're beautiful," I whisper into her lips.

Flattening my hand, I cup the underside of her breast, the weight perfect as I mould my palm around her. Then I pull my thumb across her skin, making her nipple harden beneath the thin fabric of her dress, and she moans into my mouth, sending a thrill straight to my cock.

Without asking permission, I dip my hand beneath her neckline, needing to feel her skin on mine. Then we are flesh on flesh, and I'm rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, wanting to make her moan again.

Bella straddles my lap as we continue to kiss hard and fast, our bodies grinding against each other in an erotic rhythm. I move my hands lower still, running a finger inside the waistband of her panties, moving slowly in case she asks me to stop.

She doesn't, so I press on, sliding my hand down until I reach soft hair and softer skin. When I move my finger against her, I feel a wet slickness that makes my cock so hard I almost explode. I circle softly, exploring her, working out what makes her feel good. She moves a hand down, covering the back of my own, pressing me harder against her until her sighs become gasps. Her hips gyrate as I push a finger inside her, and she breaks our kiss for a moment to moan out my name. Then she's kissing me harder than ever, her fingers biting into the back of my neck, her muscles convulsing around my fingers as she comes all over them.

By this point I'm painfully hard, but I'm enjoying her pleasure way too much to do anything about it. Instead I kiss her softly, swallowing her cries as she descends from the heights,

"That was amazing," she whispers.

"You're amazing," I reply.

We carry on kissing as I feel her heartbeat slow and her body relax against mine. Then she rests her head on my shoulder, breathing gently against my neck, and I can't seem to wipe the smile from my face. Because this feels so goddamned right, so completely perfect, in spite of the crap and mess we're surrounded by. I'm sitting on some wooden steps, holding the prettiest girl in Chicago in my arms, and I couldn't give a shit what anybody else thinks.

She's the only thing that matters now.