I don't own Twilight, SM does.

Thanks to karentwilighted and EchoesOfTwilight for pre-reading. :)

-Chapter 38: Confessions, Coercions, and Chicken Wings-

After putting it off as long as possible, I called to arrange a dinner date with Alice and Jasper. It was with some confidence that I finally did it, as a similar night with Esme and Dr. Hoo-Ha had been a success. They were thrilled for us, and the way we went about getting married didn't matter to them at all. Though I did get the impression that our presence was going to be requested at a lot of family dinners in the near future to make up for it. I didn't mind. It was always entertaining to hang out with Edward's family ― now my family, too.

Still, no matter how confident I was, Edward had warned me that I shouldn't let my guard down when it came to Alice. That was why we chose a really posh restaurant ― because it was better to confront her in a public place, somewhere she wouldn't want to make a scene. While we didn't exactly expect it to be easy, we certainly didn't know Alice would react as quickly as she did.

"What are those?" she demanded as we took our seats, her voice rising in pitch as her eyes widened. Damn...she'd noticed within half a minute!

"What do you mean?" I stalled, shooting Edward a panicked glance. He looked bewildered, as if even he hadn't expected her to react this fast.

"What. Are. Those. Rings," she all but growled, pointing at my ring finger. Jasper paled, I gasped, and Edward shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The silence was so thick I expected to hear crickets. The girls ducked for cover behind my kidneys.

"Wedding rings," I answered in a small voice, hoping I wouldn't have to repeat it. I kicked Edward's leg under the table, desperately looking for some kind of rescue.

"We got married," he added blandly, suddenly taking a huge interest in his menu. He couldn't have played the part of disinterested eye candy better, even if he'd started whistling a jolly tune. Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. I just said that, you big dork. But the way he held his menu blatantly displayed the brushed silver band he now wore on his ring finger.

Jasper was following Edward's lead, the coward. So I went with the majority, focusing on my menu, knowing we were doomed from the start. No matter how hard I concentrated on the heavy leather folder in my hands, I could still feel the power of her stare and all of the Cullen Pout she was throwing around the table. The server came to take our orders, and I just knew we were all looking at each other sideways, acting shifty-eyed and suspicious-looking. As a customer service veteran, I wondered what the help thought of our tense little quartet of denial. I know my mind would be going wild if I walked up on a group like this at work.

We all tried to order in some semblance of normality, and though I really could have used a drink, I went with something extra-caffeinated and fluorescent yellow. Screw the calories. This was an extreme situation. After the server left, we sat there for a few minutes in silence, until I couldn't take it anymore. The whole time, Alice was looking around the table pitifully with her huge eyes and colorful scarf around part of her hair. A pair of gigantic Jackie-O glasses were perched on the crown of her head, and she looked cute in that ridiculous-yet-stylish way only Alice could pull off.

"Come on, Alice. We didn't even know we were going to do it until that day," I finally said in a huff.

"It's my fault," Edward jumped in. "I held her hostage in a car on a curvy road until she said yes. Once I got her to agree, I didn't want to give her the chance to get away. I talked her into it. Charmed the pants off her," he kept going, and all I could do was stare at him with my dead goldfish gape and flaming cheeks.

"Okay, seriously, Edward, you can shut up anytime now," I said hurriedly, kicking at him again under the table, this time using both feet. Jasper was chuckling behind one hand, while his lovely wife just glared at us with one of the best guilt-tripping faces I'd ever seen.

"Tried everything but knocking her up, did you?" Jasper drawled just as the server approached us, bearing our drinks. His eyes widened as he caught the tail-end of our conversation, and I knew his speculations would be out of control. Our little group was probably the talk of the back of the house.

Edward, oblivious man that he was, didn't wait quite long enough to keep his mouth shut, and started talking before the guy had walked far enough away. "I wouldn't say I haven't tried that, either...we practice a lot."

My gaze shot to his, and I wanted to sew his lips shut, Dee Snyder style. "Practice is going to be cancelled indefinitely if you don't zip it."

He held his hands up in surrender without saying anything, only grinning sneakily at me and shaking his head in unapologetic amusement. He was pretty confident in his seduction skills, and he had a right to be, where I was concerned. Resisting him took a little thing called willpower, and when it came to Edward, I had none.

I was still giving him the evil eye when I noticed something: Alice was no longer in full deprived-sister-of-the-groom mode ― and she was watching us with a soft smile. It was almost creepy, yet still better than the alternative tantrum of massive proportions.

"You two are perfect for each other," she finally sighed, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

"Thanks―" Edward and I both began, but Alice held up her hand with a threatening little scowl.

"Now here's how it's going to work," she said in a scarily authoritative voice, and I suddenly got the picture of her in pink velcro rollers and a smoking jacket, looking like Samson. If she started calling me 'Cuban B,' I was outta there. Before I could help it, by mind had conjured up the police wire surveillance scene, and I was imagining Jasper and Edward dressed in man-catsuits, handing deadly little Alice weapon number Eight-Fourteen.

That little daydream morphed into one of me working Scarface's job at the burger joint. It ended with a fantasy of me standing up in the fancy-schmancy restaurant and saying, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you...you cool, fuck you, I'm out!" Then I could grab Edward and storm out. But we'd also need an extra two people at the table...

Alice was still speaking as I finally got my wandering mind under control. "...and finally, you two are going to let me throw your first anniversary party," she finished with a firm nod.

"Okay, fine," I said quickly. Anything to cover up the fact that I hadn't been listening to the last five minutes of the conversation.

Edward was watching me warily, his skin pale underneath the faded remnants of his Hawaii tan. "You're really okay with it?" he asked carefully, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes...why?" He blinked at me in confusion, and Jasper burst out laughing.

"You'd better hope I don't have any say in this, Edward," Jasper gasped in between embarrassingly loud laughter. "I'm gonna suggest 'Apple' or some shit."

"Why would you have a say?" I asked, really not understanding what the hell was going on.

"Bella," Edward started, shaking his head, "You not only gave Alice permission to throw us a huge anniversary party next year..."

"Yeah?" I interrupted, still not getting what had everyone so shocked.

"You also gave me permission to name your firstborn child!" Alice crowed, sending every head in the restaurant swiveling in our direction. "Weren't you listening to me? Hell, I should have made like Rumpelstiltskin and demanded your actual first born!"

"Now, Alice," Jasper began, looking panicked. "You know babies are always cuter when you can give them back to their parents."

"Um..." Oh, holy shit...holy shit! "I do suck at naming things. I named the cat Renesmee," I blurted, deciding the panic wasn't worth it and giving up.

"You're right," Edward agreed. "This might work out better for the mental health of our future children." I scowled in his direction for a second, but as always, it never lasted for long. He smiled at me, and his hand grasped mine underneath the table. He was so funny and caring...and he was all mine. He would be the father of any babies I had...and the thought wasn't so scary, as long as I had him to help me.

How about a round of practice makes perfect in the restroom? Time to make babies!

I could practically feel them bouncing. They felt a lot bigger than butterflies.

Besides, nothing was scarier than the girls. If I can handle them, I can handle anything.

-w-

The next day found me looking for something to do. I decided to make Edward some dinner, since he'd be getting off work at dinnertime. That was why my kitchen looked like the aftermath of a mini-chicken massacre. Cutting up whole chicken wings sucked, but it was a good frustration-reliever. I was used to it. I worked on autopilot, arranging the wings on a baking sheet, seasoning them, and sliding them in the oven. Whole chicken wings were also cheap. Of course, chicken wings in general were cheap, but Renee had taught me how to save where I could, and if that meant manual labor and dismembering my own chicken parts, so be it. Though, as I looked around the kitchen in which I was currently cooking, I guessed I didn't need to save the extra few cents anymore. Edward obviously wasn't lacking for money.

I, on the other hand, was poor as the proverbial church mouse. Angela, my supposed best friend, had fired me for no good reason. Oh, she thought she had one. According to her, the job at ThinkGeek was mine, never mind that my interview had come and gone and I had yet to hear anything. Of course, it had only been a week ago, and I knew I shouldn't be worried...I was pretty confident that I'd nailed it. I'd also discovered that as much as going on a business trip as a newlywed sucked, the reunion sex was even better. Edward had picked me up at the airport, and we almost got caught making out in the parking garage. I was pretty sure he was looking to have one of our little indecent excursions, but I vetoed that idea quickly. That night, I'd needed him too badly, and I didn't want to risk getting cock-blocked by a night in the clink.

Apparently, Angela thought I was too chicken to quit the restaurant, and I just needed a push in the right direction. This only intensified when I confessed that Edward and I had gotten married in Hawaii, and that was when she'd taken it upon herself to hire another bartender to work my shifts. When I'd gotten back from the interview, she'd had the nerve to tell me I'd be training my replacement during my last few days. Joy. I worked my last shift three nights ago, and ever since, I haven't known what to do with myself.

Yet, I'm strangely happy...

That's why I knew that what Angela had done for me was a blessing. It would have been sacrilegious or something for me to remain bartending, being the wife of a recovering alcoholic and all. Sure, I was glib about it, but it was really the only way I knew how to deal with the sudden change in my life.

Bella, we hear sexual healing works wonders. It's a stress-reliever, it releases endorphins...

Holy shit. They sound like they've been reading one of Edward's medical texts. Of course, I guess they read everything I read... And that was where I just had to stop thinking about it.

"Holy shit, it smells good in here," Edward yelled from the doorway, startling me. I hadn't even heard him open the door. In seconds, it was slamming shut and he was there, grabbing me from behind, even though I had a very sharp chef's knife in one hand and and a bunch of celery in the other. "What's for dinner?" he asked, kissing my neck and looping his arms around my waist.

"Buffalo wings." I don't know why was nervous as I answered. I wanted to make him happy, yet I second-guessed myself at every turn. What to make for meals was a mystery. Would he get bored? Would we find ourselves in a food-rut? And if we found ourselves in a food rut, what other ruts were to come? Would we become one of those couples, the ones that sat across from each other at dinner and struggled for something, anything interesting to say?

"People actually make those at home?" Edward was asking, and I jerked in his arms at the sound of his voice. "I thought you could only get those in bars and restaurants."

As he spoke, his hands began wandering from my abdomen down to the waistband of my jeans. I was all too eager to abandon conversation for physical action. Letting the knife and celery drop to the cutting board with a clank, I leaned back against him and forced out a little laugh.

"Are there rules for chicken wings? 'Thou shalt not make Buffalo wings at home...' That one must not have made it onto Moses' tablets," I teased, wiggling back against him and smiling at the muffled groan I could feel against my neck.

"Rules? We don't need rules," he said, moving closer. "We break them all, remember?" I couldn't answer as his hands moved lower, over my hips and down the tops of my thighs. Long fingers tightened, digging into my legs as he pulled me more firmly to him.

"Right," I finally managed. I noticed he was backing away from the counter, and I was coming with him, since he'd apparently lifted my toes off the floor without my knowledge. Trying to get free, I squirmed in his hold uselessly. Fucker was stronger than he looked. All my movement only allowed him to get a better grip on my body, and with an arm bracketed around my hips and one right under my breasts, I knew I wasn't getting away.

"Stop moving, or I'll drop you," he threatened, letting me slip down a little in his arms.

"Do you want me to burn dinner?" I asked, trying not to laugh at his playfulness. Usually he was so tired when he came home from work, and today he seemed full of energy. I was really glad to see him looking so young and energized.

You know what energy is good for? Making babies. Everyone probably thinks you're knocked up already, so why not?

Edward saved me from another stupid internal argument just in time. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said teasingly, reminding me of the burned garlic bread on the night of his birthday.

"Excuse me?" I faked outrage, just to play along.

"You're not making garlic bread again, are you? I don't think that goes with wings." He was laughing. I could feel the vibrations against my back. We reached the bedroom and he tossed me on the mattress, which knocked a giggle from my chest. He stood over me with his arms crossed, wearing his smirky grin.

"For your information, garlic bread goes with everything. Even ice cream." Okay, so that was a bald-faced lie. Ice cream would be a bad, bad choice, but I couldn't back down now. "And weren't you supposed to be watching the garlic bread that night?" I arched a brow up at his upside-down face. Surely that should have made him ugly or something...but no. I suddenly wished for pouring rain and a Spider Man suit. Water, spandex, Edward, and me...yum.

Oh, yes...we want the Precious to be our Peter Parker. In fact, we want the Precious to 'park' his 'peter' somewhere special...

We're getting there, girls...if you'll just shut up!

"Was I? I can't remember. All I can think of is that shirt you wore and how I couldn't stop looking at your tits."

Giggles became full out laughter. "That's not very gentlemanly." He still wasn't moving to come closer, so I hooked a finger in the waistband of his pants and tugged. Today was one of his office consult days, so he was dressed nicely in business casual...and it was just as hot as the scrubs.

"I never said I was a gentleman," he returned smugly, refusing to budge. I snorted.

"Says the man who tried to turn down my awesome sexytime skills in the beginning..." I trailed off, giving up on pulling him to the bed and shoving him away instead. He hadn't expected that, which made it easy for me to slip past him and back into the kitchen.

"That doesn't mean I was a gentleman. It just means I was stupid," he called after me, making me laugh.

He joined me a few minutes later, barefoot and casual in a t-shirt and jeans. I grinned as I saw the screen print on the front ― it was his 'Smooth Operator' shirt ― one I'd bought for him. It had a cartoon of a doctor in a surgical cap and mask above the words, and I giggled each time I saw him wearing it.

We'd like him to 'operate' on us!

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

Come and give us some of your medicine, Dr. Precious!

Thankfully, the timer for the wings saved me, the harsh beeping sound a welcome one in my very crowded brain. Edward went about setting the table as I mixed the sauce and dipped the wings, and we carried the food to the table together in a perfect tableau of domestic bliss.

This is my life...and I'm happy. I really am. He makes me happy...

I smiled as he started eating quickly, his appetite more than making up for his silence. He ate with enthusiasm, and I knew he was pleased with my efforts. I'm sort of a good wife...sometimes. The longer I watched him, the more I realized that wings were not only cheap, they were evil. Sauce was on his fingers and lips. Wings were messy and led to a lot of lip-licking.

It was torture for my lady parts.

Meanwhile, he devoured three wing sections while I nibbled on a single drummette and poked at my baked potato and salad. Edward noticed how little I was eating and frowned.

"Bella, you made these, so you know how good they are," he said seriously. "Please eat more than that." He piled most of the good pieces on my plate, and I had to protest.

"Don't you want any of the good ones? I can't eat all these!"

"Good ones? The good ones are the wing pieces," he said with a smirk. Deliberately, he held my gaze while he licked sauce from his thumb, and my mouth went dry. I ate a huge bite of spicy wing and promptly choked from the heat burning my tongue. There! Desert mouth problem solved...now bring me the drool bib.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I answered, clearing my throat and taking a huge gulp of milk. When I finally felt safe to speak, I asked, "You don't like the drummettes?"

"Not really. You do?" He grinned slowly, watching me blush at his attention just like I had when we first met.

I nodded. "They're so much better than the part with two bones. One bone is enough for me," I added lowly with a small smile of my own.

"I don't know what that says about me," he said, starting to sound a little displeased. "You're making it impossible for me to eat chicken wings because you're comparing them to boners―"

"I didn't say 'boner,'" I laughed, interrupting him.

"You implied it," he insisted, nudging my feet with his underneath the table.

"It was a horrible joke. I apologize. Sometimes a pervert lives inside my head." If he only knew...there are two.

"Just more proof we're perfect for each other," he said immediately. "I appreciate your juvenile humor. Plus, we'll never fight over chicken wings, and food won't go to waste." He spoke as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Then again, maybe it was. We were perfect for one another ― it had been obvious from the very beginning. We both had our issues, but we worked together. And that was why I needed to tell him about the apartment...soon, but not tonight. Right now, I needed this quiet time with him, and I was going to make the most of it.

-w-

"What's this?" Edward asked as he came into the bathroom later that evening, gesturing with a light green bottle of aromatherapy crap Alice had forced on me at the spa in Hawaii. As I eyed it, an idea began to form, because I was nothing, if not a rotten little pot stirrer. Scratch that ― I was a horny little pot-stirrer. Yes, I freely admitted it.

"That massage therapist back in Hawaii talked me into buying this stuff." I said, taking the bottle of sugar scrub from his hands. Surely Edward wouldn't mind my little white lie, because I'd make sure he was happy in the end. Happy endings for all... "He said it was very good for relieving stress," I added, barely suppressing the need to grin. Just in case my weak facial muscles couldn't cut it, I pivoted quickly to turn on the shower.

Oooh, nice one, Bella! We like him riled up.

That's the point, girls. Now, shut up.

Edward cleared his throat. "Did you say he?" I could hear him coming up behind me, and if I wasn't mistaken, that was the sound of his shirt dropping to the floor...oh, yes.

"What?" I asked absently, pretending to adjust the water temperature. When I turned around, he was shucking off his pants, and less than a foot away from me. "Oh, are you going to shower, too?"

"You know how I feel about water conservation," he said with a dark little smile before scowling at me. "You didn't tell me the massage therapist was a guy."

"Why, Dr. Cullen, you of all people should know it's just a job. It was all very clinical and professional," I said innocently, stripping off my clothes and tossing them over the separate tub. I had to lean right in front of him to do it, and I could tell he wasn't unaffected by my little game. He was naked, after all.

He sighed, letting a little growl of what I assumed was frustration escape. Finally naked myself, I slipped into the shower, leaving the glass door open as I stepped under the spray.

"You're not saying anything because you know I'm right." Oooh, that sing-song quality in my voice is super annoying. Perfect.

He joined me, letting the door almost slam shut, enclosing us in the warm, humid space. The rush of steamy water was loud and the air was thick with tension and vapor. I couldn't resist one last jab...

"I mean, surely you have to see patients naked sometimes, right?"

"He saw you naked?" he burst out, his voice almost painfully loud inside the tile and glass walls. I bit my lip so hard to keep from laughing that I actually tasted blood.

"Well, he kind of had to when he gave me the butt massage." This time, I couldn't help it. I giggled. Thank God he couldn't see my face.

"Butt massage? There's no such thing as a butt massage!" Okay, that was a yell. "Is there? Bella, please tell me this is you pulling my leg," he said, softer this time, but with no less intensity. He spun me to face him, his eyes fierce with vivid green determination, but even that couldn't stop my giggling.

We'd like to pull your third leg, Dr. Precious...

So would I.

Ignoring his plea, I took the bottle from his hand. "Edward, you seem awfully...tense." I squeezed out a good-sized dollop and snapped the lid shut, dropping the scrub to the floor with a loud clatter that made him jump.

"Do I? I wonder why?" he asked sarcastically, and it was gritty and low, sounding suspiciously like a growl. Oh, goody...

"You do," I assured with a smug little laugh, slipping around to his back so I could start spreading the gritty soap over his shoulders. "Good thing this scent is formulated for stress relief." With that, I dug my fingers into the swells of his shoulders, using the lather to help to soothe his knotted muscles. I had to stand on my toes to reach him, which made me more than a little unsteady. That was just fine by me, and every part of me was in agreement on that point. My nipples were especially pleased, because that sugar scrub was sort of tingly, and this was all on top of feeling them rub against his naked back every time I lost my balance.

I chanced a peek at his face, and his eyes were closed. Satisfied that he wasn't wincing in discomfort, I assumed I was doing okay. But damn, my hands were getting tired! Holy crap! I kept going, trying to work through the burn, but I wish I knew when to stop or what the heck to do. Should I do that karate-chop thing? Some kind of neck rub? Or should I go right for the money and rub my way down to the Promised Land, otherwise known as the best thing to ever happen to the back of a pair of button-fly jeans?

Edward groaned as I hit a sensitive spot just underneath his shoulder blade. "You can do it harder," he said, sighing as I dug my thumb into the same spot.

I snorted. That's what she said! And then I wanted to groan at myself. Oh, no...I'm turning into my mother...or the girls.

"What's so funny?" he slurred, which made me smile while giving myself a mental pat on the back. Damn, I must be pretty good at this massage shit!

"Oh, er...nothing, I just stifled a sneeze. This stuff sort of opens up your sinuses, doesn't it?" To distract him, I continued rubbing my way down his back, almost reaching the top of his ass, but then I chickened out, slicking my soapy, gritty, sugared hands back up to his shoulders ― which were, not so surprisingly, tense again. Moving around to his side, I put both hands on his bicep, my fingers kneading and digging, working down to his forearm. I could feel his gaze burning into me, but I didn't let myself meet his eyes ― I wasn't done playing, and the more frustrated he got, the better the payoff.

"Oh, I think I need some more scrubby stuff," I murmured carelessly, making sure he could hear. I thanked the gods of seducing your man in the shower that the bottle had landed in front of him as I bent to retrieve it.

He groaned loudly, and I'm positive it was because of the view. Savoring a self-congratulatory smile, I got a little bit more scrub and snapped the bottle closed, staying bent over the whole time. I saw his foot twitch as if he was going to step forward, so I rose quickly, wavering on my feet, but managing to keep my balance by grabbing on to him.

"You're awfully good at this," he observed as I started working on his other arm before taking the really scenic journey to his chest and abs, savoring the way I could see his stomach tense as I brushed the hair below his belly button. I think I heard him whimper when I made sure to avoid his erection, which was trapped between us and almost impossible to ignore. Almost. He was hot against the sensitive skin of my belly, but that was all the contact I would allow him for the moment. Most of the time, I let Edward take the lead, but he always went along when I decided it was my turn to be the boss ― and he was pretty damn enthusiastic about it.

"Thanks. I asked Hans for some good moves to try on my guy. He had me practice and everything!" I peeked up at him through my lashes, catching the flash of angry green sparks that usually signaled he was close to the red zone. Whoa...yikes. Wait, not yikes...yes! He let me push him farther back into the spray, and I concentrated on slicking the soap from his skin, leaving the scent of rosemary and spearmint behind. I inhaled deeply, a blissful smile forming on my lips. It wasn't flowery or female; it was neutral and invigorating all at once, and mixed perfectly with the scent of the man inches away from me. He let me rinse everything from his skin, which was more than I'd expected from him, to be honest.

When I finished, circling around to his chest, his arms shot out, pulling me against him. "Hans? Practice?"

The arch of my neck was uncomfortable as I looked up at him, trying to blink innocently. "Hans, the blond Swedish massage therapist with the really tight polo shirt. It had this little alligator on the chest..." I trailed my finger across his left pec to illustrate. "And practice..." I grinned up at him. "Practice makes perfect."

His eyes squeezed shut, and he took a deep breath, his chest expanding so forcefully against mine that it actually forced some of my breath away. "Bella," he growled, and I knew it was time to stop messing with him. I linked my hands at the small of his back, letting my fingers wander a little lower before settling.

"Edward, the therapist was a girl," I admitted, and from the way his jaw clenched, I could tell he thought I was still playing.

"What?"

"The massage therapist. Her name was Hannah."

"Oh, thank fuck. You are so mean," he said in a rush of breath and a smile as all the remaining tension went out of him. "What about the practice? Did you try that, too?"

"No, I made that up, too...I'm shameful, don't you think?" I pressed my lips to his temple as he ducked his head and began planting tiny kisses on my shoulder. "I wonder how I could make it up to you?" I mused, kissing just over his heart and rubbing my fingertips up and down his sides.

"You are shameful. Such a tease," he whispered against my skin, his tongue darting out in random patterns on my collarbone. I rubbed my nose along his neck, smelling Edward and clean, soapy steam.

"That stuff smells good on you." I was out of breath, giving up easily now that he was working his magic on me.

"I think I smell good on you."

"Oh?" I sort of squeaked as he bit down hard on the skin at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. Deciding I needed to pull out the big guns, I reached for him, palming the thick head and squeezing with teasing pressure, coating him with water and slick pre-cum before I slid my hand down his length.

"Fuck." The curse just flew out of his lips, and it made me smile. He rested his forehead against my shoulder and watched as I pumped him. I loved the way my knuckles grazed his hard belly, the contrast in between the soft skin of his cock and the rougher, hair-smattered flesh just under his belly button.

He was leaning heavily against me, inadvertently pushing me backwards into the bench. Suddenly struck with inspiration, I sank down, kissing in a straight line right down his abdomen until I sat on the cold marble...which was fucking torture on my overheated, erm...lady parts, but I was so hot for Edward the cold was forgotten in seconds. His cock would be right in front of my face if I leaned forward just a little bit, and this little piece of heaven enclosed in tile and glass officially joined the shower hall of fame. It deserved a fucking trophy.

He stepped a little closer, bumping my knees and bringing himself so close that he brushed against my cheek. "I know how you can make it up to me," he said lowly, threading a hand in my hair, tugging on the strands, and pushing his hips forward just the tiniest bit.

Oh, Jesus...my inner bitch should feel so ashamed at how much this side of him turns me on...

His tip brushed over my lips, and I opened them, taking him as far as I could before easing back, the wetness of the shower and the salty trace of pre-cum easing my way. He grunted softly and pushed back in, gently, but with just a hint of the strength I knew he had. It was enough to spur me on even more. I looked up at him, meeting his slitted green eyes through the misty, humid air.

"Good girl," he purred ― hell yes, it was a purr! ― watching me with that burning look. I swear to God the girls exploded, the sound just like a bag of Orville Reddenbacher in the microwave, all in spite of their disdain for oral...pleasures.

Edward's fingers tightened in my hair, urging me forward. "You can take a little more of me, can't you?" Planting his other hand on the tile behind me, he nudged his hips again, and I sank down on him until my nose nearly brushed his pubic bone. "Fuck, you look so pretty, Bella." It wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world, but I could handle it for a second or two at a time. It was easy to ignore when I could tell how much he liked what he saw, the trembling of his thighs underneath my hands leaving no doubt. I knew he wouldn't push me too hard, and he let me move back when I was ready.

But if he kept tugging on my hair like that and talking to me in that needy, gritty voice, I was going to pass out from want. I thought of telling him to put his hands behind his head if he wanted me to keep going, but I figured he deserved a reward for putting up with me when I gave him such a hard time earlier. I'd make this time about him, let him do what he wanted. Letting my eyes flutter closed, I gripped his base with one hand, squeezing and sucking hard as I tried to drive him crazy. I hoped this playing sex kitten shit worked, because it sure was turning me on. When I let the fingers of my other hand graze his balls, he stiffened, groaning and pulling on my hair almost to the point of pain. It only lasted a second before he realized his tight hold and loosened his grip.

"Mother fuck..." He was breathing hard as he brushed strands of hair back from my face. I kept playing him, listening to his sounds for clues. Then his hands were suddenly under my arms, pushing me off of him and raising me so my lips were level with his.

"I don't know what do to with you," he growled before attacking my mouth, licking and biting at my lips.

"I know something you can do to me," I laughed softly, getting a few words out around his lips and bucking my hips against his.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Oh, sweet baby Jesus, is he crooning? Mother of all that's holy...I should be making fun of it, not fawning all over him.

"Yes," I panted, nodding and grinning at him unrepentantly.

One hint of a cocky smirk later and he was turning me to face the wall, guiding one of my feet to the bench as he lined himself up behind me. "It's a good thing for you...I'm not feeling very patient right now."

I shivered at the low, rough velvet in my ear and pushed back against his hips in response. "You're usually not when it comes to sex."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Oh, God, no! No patience needed right now," I said hurriedly, not sure I could wait much longer either.

"That's what I thought." Oh, you smug, sexy bastard...

I didn't really care about his little jokes when one of his palms cupped my inner thigh, urging me to widen my stance. His lips dropped, hot and wet to the skin below my ear. "Arch your back for me," he murmured. I did as he asked, sighing when he thrust forward, and glory, glory, hallelujah, I didn't think I could even make any more jokes tonight.

"Like this?" I asked in a small voice. Judging from how amazing it felt, I was pretty sure I got it right, but I wanted him to keep talking to me in that low voice.

"Yeah." He was starting to sound a little out of breath. "Just like that." Good, because I wouldn't dream of doing anything other than this. It's really working for me, too.

His left arm snaked under mine and grabbed my hand, bracing our elbows against the wall, making sure he took most of our weight before leaning in until his chest covered my shoulders. At my hip, his other hand kept me in place, and then he was moving, and it was so, so good. His fingers kept my hips canted at an angle that had him hitting places I didn't know I had.

He moaned low in his throat as his head hung next to mine. Each thrust was slow and deliberate, and soon his hand began to wander ― all the way up to my throat, his fingers encircling gently as he turned my head for a kiss, hot and wet and deep and way too short. Back down, over my breasts, pulling and gently squeezing at my nipples...straight down my torso, his wet fingers wasting no time in finding and pinching my clit.

My face flamed with the rush of oncoming climax, and I rested my forehead against the cool tile, gasping in pleasure at the added contrast on my hot skin. I could also see below to where Edward's legs flexed behind mine, the visual only adding to the throbbing pressure building low in my belly.

"Edward, please, just a little harder," I begged. So, so close...

"Like that, love?" Oh, dear God, there's that little grunt... His hips slapped wetly against my ass as he thrust harder and began concentrating his attentions to tiny swirls over my wet, sensitive skin.

"Yes...yes," I managed through much-needed gulps of air.

"Bella, hurry, please." And he was begging, too...I am never leaving this shower. I could feel the sensations coiling, building, and his voice only drove me higher. "Please, hurry...I can't...you feel so fucking good." His fingers worked me steadily as he fastened his lips at my neck, and that was it. I was gone. I shook in his hold, coming harder than I could ever remember, and that was saying something since I'd met him.

It only got better when the ringing faded from my ears and I could hear his reaction. "Oh, yeah...fuck, there you go," he muttered breathlessly, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts as his fingers kept rubbing gently, the sensitivity triggering another, smaller wave of pleasure. As soon as I moaned my second release, I could hear Edward groaning behind me, and three short thrusts later he stilled, tensing against me. When he relaxed, he slumped against my back, still somehow managing to keep from crushing me against the wall. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he secured me against his chest and pivoted so he sat on the bench with me in his lap.

I shuddered when he lifted my hips, rearranging me so I could settle more comfortably against him. I didn't know how much time went by, but I could feel myself beginning to doze, thoroughly drained from our activities. The water was getting lukewarm, and I couldn't even bring myself to care. A laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it, causing Edward to grunt in surprise, as if he'd been nearly asleep as well.

"What's so funny, Mrs. Cullen?" he mumbled, tightening his arms around my waist. My stomach dipped at his question ― or rather, the whole "Mrs. Cullen" part.

Yeah. I'm still getting used to that..

How dare you, Bella! Shut up and bask in post-coital wedded bliss.

How odd. Usually I was the one telling them to shut up. I put it out of my mind, concentrating on answering Edward before he noticed something different.

"I don't think we conserved any water today," I said, pointing at the water still streaming from the shower head.

Edward's laugh sounded really nice echoing against the walls of the shower. At that instant, my worries seemed to fade, and the only thing that remained was how right we felt. It was time to stop being afraid and definitely time to stop second-guessing us. It was time to make things right...I just wasn't sure how to go about it yet. At least now, I was officially on my way.

One chapter left, and then the epi. I have a few outtakes and things planned as well, so don't be sad. All good things come to an end...or they become not so good things. ;) Chapter 39 is written...so what would you like? A really fast update, or are you fans of anticipation?

As always, thanks for reading and uber thanks for those who review in spite of my reply fail.

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