CHAPTER 31

I drive Bella home. I've told the full story, that James and Lauren had drugged me eight years ago and how those events led to yesterday's tragedy. I've been assured that they would follow up with me as soon as Lauren's been questioned. I'm still not sure what they'll do about James, but somehow, he too will pay for his crime.

Bella looks worried, tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth. I release it, gently pulling at it with my thumb.

"Do you have to do this?"

I look into her beautiful eyes, wanting her to see how much she means to me, I caress her cheek, pushing away a loose strand of hair.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. For last night and being here for me, and for my family today; and mostly for Josh. For believing in me enough to give us a chance, but ultimately for what you just did for me back there, at the police station."

She gives me a half smile and covers my hand with her own. "I didn't do much."

I could go back and forth with her about how much she's done for me, but instead, I cup her face and lean down to kiss her. She lets out a soft whimper, and I pull away reluctantly. If I don't stop, I'll be here all night, and right now, I have more pressing matters to deal with.

"I have to go."

"Edward, wait. I'll go with you." She grabs my arm and tries to stop me.

"That's not a good idea. I need to do this alone."

"But…."

Before she has a chance to change my mind, I walk away hurriedly and hop into my car. This is my mess, and I need to be the one to fix it.

It's dark, and it's beginning to rain. When I'm stopped at a red light, I send two text messages; one to Alice and the other to Lauren, asking that she meet me at the hospital. I fabricate a reason for the meeting. She responds before the light turns green.

Bella has sent me five messages since her. I finally send her a message, telling her not to worry and that everything will be over soon.

I park and wait. This is the only place, after what I'd said to her, that I believe that she would meet me. The necessary lie about Josh was the only thing that she would find plausible without her suspecting my motives.

I watch as her car approaches, and I open my door.

She skids into a parking space, and I have to force myself not to scoff aloud at her faked concern.

"Edward, is he all right? What's happened?"

"Josh is fine. I needed to see you, and I knew it was the only way to get you here."

Droplets of rain are starting to fall more heavily. Her head and face are soon drenched. She tightens the belt of her trench coat and pulls up the collar.

"What do you mean, he's fine? Your text led me to believe that he had taken a turn for the worse?"

"Like I said, it was the only way."

"The only way? Why am I here, Edward? This morning you wouldn't give me the time of day. You refused to acknowledge that I cared about Josh. I love…."

"I've gone to the police, and I've told them everything, Lauren."

She blanches and takes a step back.

"Wha ...what do you mean?" she stammers.

"I've informed them of everything… what you and James did to me… everything, Lauren."

"Why…. why would you do that? Edward… you're upset about Josh and taking it out on me."

"I also told them that I believe that you were behind the hit and run."

"What? I wasn't driving the car!" she blurts out, and I know that I have her right where I want her.

"Who was driving the car, Lauren?" I clench my teeth in an effort to stay calm.

"I…I… don't know!" Her eyes widen in alarm.

Her cellphone rings, and she jumps. She digs it out of her bag and reads the screen. looking even more panicked as she sends the call to voicemail.

"I-I have to go. Tell Josh I love him." She turns, and I pull her back somewhat roughly.

"Who was on the phone, Lauren?"

"No one." A tear slides down her cheek. Her phone rings again, and she whimpers.

"Answer it. Now!" I grab hold of her wrist, and she nearly drops the phone.

"No!"

I snatch it from her and look at the screen, and sure as shit, it's him.

She's shouts and then pleads with me not to answer it, all the while, fighting me to retrieve the phone. I hold her off with one arm and press the answer, then speaker button.

"Lauren, where the fuck are you! The police just left here! Hello… hello?"

I end the call and turn to look at her. Her eyes are wild, and she's shaking. I glare at her venomously then turn, and with all my strength, I heave the phone across the parking lot and listen to it smash against the asphalt. I grab her arm and yank her forward

"You're going to tell the police what you've done, and you're going to do that right now!" I growl.

"Let go of me, Edward! I haven't done anything. Let go! It was James! He was the one driving the car!" She wrenches away and turns toward her car. Alice appears, blocks her path and glowers at her. Two policemen hurriedly follow.

"You're not going anywhere, you bitch! You're going to pay for what you did to my son."

Lauren looks back and forth between us, her mouth agape in horror.

"Mrs. Masen, we would like to ask you some questions about the hit and run involving your husband and Joshua Whitlock."

"I don't know anything about the accident. I have to get home."

"I'm afraid we can't allow that, Mrs. Masen. You'll have to come with us." They lead Lauren away, still loudly protesting her innocence.

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I feel emotionally spent. Josh has fallen asleep and Alice left to go home for the night. I head down to my office. The rain has stopped and the moonlight peeking through the slats of the vertical blinds casts an ambience of false serenity.

My mind, in stark contrast, is in turmoil. The events of the last forty-eight hours ricochet around my head like a ping pong ball; the happiness I felt with Bella and Josh in the park, the almost numbing panic that overtook me at the sight of Josh's fragile and bloodied face. The guilt and despair that I felt in the aftermath of the accident, the pure joy I'd experienced when making love with Bella, and the comfort I felt from her presence throughout it all. But overwhelmingly, it's the way I felt when I was forced to relive the shame and humiliation as I regaled the police sordid acts that Lauren and James had perpetrated against me. I imagine that I'll be feeling a hell of a lot worse if it becomes public knowledge.

I tell myself over and over, that what I'd done was necessary to gain justice for Josh.

For Josh. I keep the mantra going as I try to fight off my rising panic. I feel whatever control I'd managed to regain after those dreadful events, slowly ebbing away as I continue to think about the ramifications of my statement to the police

I need to get out of here; I'm driving myself insane, going over the same things over and over. I'd hoped that the open road help to clear my thoughts, but it's sadly not enough, not even listening to my favorite music seems to be able to get my mind off things. I need a distraction.

"Hello?" She mumbles sleepily.

"It's me. Is it too late to come by?"

"It's nearly two in the morning. Where are you?"

"I'm about five minutes from your place. Is it okay?"

The Silence, which has echoed down the line for minutes, is finally broken by her sigh. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

I had, in fact been parked outside her house for ten minutes before drumming up the courage to make the call.

I pause my raised hand and press my forehead against the door and take a couple of deep breaths.

Lauren has already taken so much from me, and now she's taking once again.

Control.

It's like an unwanted song on an endless loop, going around and around. I've been sorely tempted to seek out my old, tried and trusted way to gain that control.

"What's happened?" she asks in consternation. I pull her into a tight embrace and inhale her scent. It instantly centers me, and I realize that it's not control that I want or need; it's comfort, her comfort.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Bella. I don't want to be like her." I mumble into the crook of her neck.

"Edward…what are you talking about?" She threads a hand through my hair as she speaks.

"Lauren. I don't want to be like her. I don't want to do what she did to me."

"You could never be like her. You could never do what she did, Edward. Look at me." She pulls back to look at me. I avert my eyes,

Since Lauren's revelation, I've been doing exactly what she did to me; gaining control by using someone else. All the women, the cheating had been a way for me to feel in control, control she stole from me. I can finally see that.

"Bella, you don't get it. All those women I've taped. Who knows exactly how many marriages I've helped to destroy….I…"

"You can't say that. I do get it. I know where all this is coming from. I know how hard it was for you to disclose such personal details about your life to strangers today, but…"

I shake my head and try to pull away from her, but she grabs my face, demanding that I look at her.

"I'm with you, Edward. You don't have to go through this alone."

"You don't know! She took something away from me, and now I'm the one whotakes."

"No…I'm not listening to this. I don't know what happened after you left here, but I won't let you do this to yourself. I've seen the way you are with Josh and your family; the way you are with me."

"The way I was with you when we first met," I correct. "The way I wanted to be with you less than five minutes ago.

"That was then."

"No, it is now! You have no idea what my intentions were before I got here, Bella. Believe me." I turn away, disgusted with myself.

"Tell me."

"Fuck! Not this again. For the tenth time, you are not my shrink."

"God! You are so damned difficult." She spins me around. "I'm not trying to analyze you, Edward. I just want you talk to me. I thought we were starting something, you and I? I thought after everything we've been through to get to this point, that it meant something; that we meant something to each other. I want to know everything that you feel; what hurts you, what makes you happy, and not because of who we started off as, but because of who we've become."

She's so beautiful, so sincere, and she's right. She means so much to me. We've come a long way since the day that I first walked into her office. I was consumed by my anger and guarded back then. Somehow, she managed to tear down the wall I've built around myself. She saw through the façade and made me confront the man I had become. I no longer want to be that man.

I take a breath. "I went to see Victoria tonight, just before I came here."

She tries her best to remain stoic, but I see the hurt and disappointment. She swallows hard, several times.

"Oh." Her voice sounds cracked, and I feel my stomach drop.

I wait for the angry backlash. She doesn't say a word, she's waiting for me to explain myself.

"When I left here, I contacted the police and Alice and asked them to meet me in the hospital parking lot. I then called Lauren, on the pretext that something had happened to Josh, and asked her to meet me there as well. We had an altercation in which she said some damning things, and the police took her in for questioning.

I stayed behind at the hospital. I wanted to see Josh before he fell asleep, and then I just ...I sat in my office thinking." I walk through to the living room and turn to face her, but she hasn't budged from where I'd left her just inside the closed front door.

"Bella…"

"You went to see Victoria, and..?"

"And nothing. I sat in my office damned near having a panic attack, thinking about how things would change for me once all that shit became public knowledge. People at work, people I know, my family; I've ever only told Emmett, no one else in my family knows. I couldn't…I couldn't take it. I went in search of something, anything to make me feel like…" I look around, desperately trying to find the right words from somewhere to articulate how I felt ... how I feel.

"You're looking for a way to regain control. You feel it slipping away. Reverting back to form establishes control for you."

She knows.

"I hate feeling this way, Bella. I hate letting people have power over me."

"So, take the power back. You be in control."

I bark out a sarcastic laugh and walk over to the bookcase.

"You know what I mean, Edward" She follows me.

"How's Josh?" I detect her anger rising. This is her way of putting a lid on her ire.

"He's doing better, probably talking a little too much now."

I pick up a photo of her with her Johns Hopkins graduating class. She looks so happy and carefree. I replace the photo with her graduation cap tassel that is displayed alongside the frame and fiddle with it.

"Did you fuck her, Edward?" she snaps. Her amber eyes blaze at me. Behind the fiery anger, I detect hurt and confusion.

I shake my head, and I hold her eyes unwaveringly. "Hell no. Never again."

Some of the anger visibly drains from her, but she's still upset. I close the distance between us, and before I can pull her close, she practically jumps into my arms.

I groan deeply when her tongue enters my mouth and brushes against mine.

Our hands pull and tear at unwanted clothing. She's wild, and I welcome it; I revel in every second of it. She knots her hands in my hair and tugs, almost painfully. I sense that she's trying to punish me for putting her through this. She pulls my head back and devours my mouth. She wraps her legs around my waist and grinds her hips, hitting just the right spot, and I growl as the sensations course through my body. I force myself to break our kiss so I can look into her eyes. "I wanted you, Bella, not her. I knew it the moment I reached her doorstep. I needed you."

"Show me." She caresses my face. I lead us to the sofa and untangle her from my body before easing back against the cushions. She quickly undoes my belt and pants, while I wrestle with my shirt.

She stands motionlessly in front of me, her eyes never leaving mine, as I undress her. God, she's perfect. I'm fully erect as I take in all her naked glory.

I gently thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck and pull her face to mine. I taste her everywhere; her seductive, pouty lips, her neck, her shoulders and breasts. I swirl my tongue around the nipple feeling it firm, before I start to suck gently. Her head falls back, and she cries out in pleasure when my hand slips between her legs and teases her.

I let out a low moan when I feel how wet she already is.

"Turn around," I say softly.

I guide her into a kneeling position on the sofa, and I climb up behind her, my legs on the outside of hers, my pelvis flush against her luscious curves. I kiss and suck her neck and her grip on the sofa visibly tightens. My erection glides easily between her legs as I move back and forth. The feeling is simultaneously euphoric and torturous. She matches her hips to my rhythm, and I can no longer wait to be inside her.

"I don't have protection." I pant heavily into her ear. I know that I should stop, but there is a part of me that is still as selfish and domineering as ever. I make it difficult for her to protest as I angle my hips and stroke upward, hitting her most sensitive spot. Her breath shudders, and I do it repeatedly.

"I'm protected." She forces out a whisper.

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I cry out, and he grunts with every stroke. He spreads my legs wider and rides me relentlessly. The more sounds I emit, the harder he rocks into me. His face is buried in the side of my damp neck. One hand massages and kneads my breast, while the other is between my legs, moving in slow torturous circles. He ensures that I'm pleasured in every way possible. His hands, his mouth and his cock work me into a frenzy. He's so good at what he does. I'm just a mindless being, nothing but feeling.

The coil in my stomach tightens, threatening to snap.

His movements become frantic as he nears his climax. His hand disappears from between my legs and slams against the wall in front of us.

I push back against him, meeting his every stroke, sending him closer to the edge. I'm right there, at the precipice, alongside him.

"Shit! I'm so fucking close…I'm going to come inside of you!"

I don't care. I want him to do it. It feels too good to have him pull away, to not have him close to me.

He sinks himself into me deeply one last time, and we cry out as we both come undone.

We collapse, still intimately connected as we try to regulate our breathing. He makes no attempt to pull away, and when he throbs inside of me, I reflexively clench my muscles. He chuckles a low moan and wraps his arms around me.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Don't be arrogant." I gasp as he withdraws from me and settles back against my body.

"I'm not." He spoons me and kisses the back of my neck. "It's okay to like the way I make you feel. I love the way you make me feel, Bella."

I turn around to see his face, and he's already drifting to sleep. I smile because he looks so calm now, not a worry in the world.

I think back to our earlier exchange. He nearly broke my heart when he told me that he went to see Victoria. I tried to hide how upset I was, but I know I failed dismally. I never want to imagine him with anyone other than me.

"I love the way you make me feel too." I plant a light kiss on his lips and lean into his chest.

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I'm startled from my sleep by the sound of clanging pots and loud profanity. It's morning, and I'm naked, lying on the sofa, draped in the duvet, which is usually kept in the linen closet. I look around, wondering how I came to be here, in this state. It all comes to me; Edward came over late, and we made love on this sofa, and now he's in my kitchen doing God knows what.

I wrap myself in the duvet and make my way to the kitchen. I stop in the doorway and enjoy the view. He's completely naked, he has a glorious ass, and I can't help but imagine what it must have looked like, moving, as he took me from behind.

"Fuck!" He curses when he burns his finger on the frying pan. I giggle, and he turns to look at me in surprise.

"You need some help?" I smile.

"No. I've got it covered." He soothes the burn by sticking his finger in his mouth.

"You…hardly have it covered, Edward." I let my eyes travel to his prominent manhood.

"Well, you weren't supposed to see me. I had planned on having breakfast waiting for you when you woke up."

"I think this way is much better." I bite my lip as I saunter toward him. He pulls me into his arms and holds me close.

"I really enjoyed last night, well, this morning."

"Me too," I admit somewhat shyly. "What's for breakfast?"

"You know the answer to that already." He laughs, leaning back to look at me. "Why don't you go and get comfortable on the sofa, and I can get on with my original plans."

He kisses me quickly then ushers me out of the kitchen. He goes back to fumbling with pots and silverware. I stick my head back into the kitchen to get another glimpse of his perfect ass, and he catches me ogling. "Um…I like cheese in my omelet."

He nods and raises both brows in a knowing look, then smiles and shakes his head at me in mock chastisement.

We spend the morning simply enjoying each other. We make love and relax on the sofa. The breakfast he cooked was surprisingly delicious. I'm starting to unearth all of Edward Masen's many talents.

"It's nearly noon. I have to go in to work." I lament.

"I feel used," he sighs as he plays lazily with my hair.

"What?" I turn to find he's smiling teasingly. "You're joking."

"No. I feel used, first my body, then my fabulous cooking, then my body again. Women!"

"Whatever," I laugh and move to sit up. He pulls me back and kisses my back and shoulders, my eyes flutter closed as I enjoy the sensations. I reluctantly get up; he moves his lips lower. "Edward…"

"Hmm?"

"You have to stop." I protest unconvincingly.

"You don't really want me to."

I feel just how hard he is as he stands behind me. As if my body has a mind of its own, I arch back into him.

I turn around to face him and put a safe distance between us. He bites his bottom lip playfully and closes the distance.

"I have to go to work." I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Ten minutes."

"No." I step back

"Five minutes." He steps forward.

"Five minutes, yeah." I scoff and turn to head up the stairs. "I have forty minutes to shower, dress and drive to work."

"I can work with that." He chases me into the shower.

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After the most intense, sexual shower experience, we both leave for work. He promises to fill me in on what happened with Lauren when we see each other later.

Leah's eyes light up when she sees me step off the elevator.

"Oh my God, are you all right? I heard about the accident."

"I'm fine." I wave a hand dismissively. "Uh… the nephew of a friend of mine was hurt, but he's recovering."

"Oh, my goodness, a little boy? Rosalie came by to check on things and told me what happened. She said it was Doctor Masen and his nephew."

"Well, Rosalie has a big mouth; and yes, it's true. I was with them when the accident happened."

"I'm…I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to pry. I was just worried."

"Oh, I know. I'm not upset. It's just been a crazy forty-eight hours." I sink into the chair in front of her desk. "Edward was such as mess, worrying about his nephew. It's been tough for them."

She narrows her eyes and gives me a weird look. Her gaze then drops down to the desk.

"Leah, what's wrong?"

"You called him Edward."

I exhale deeply, realizing my mistake, but I know there is no longer any need to lie. Edward will be around a lot, and there are bound to be questions.

"Leah, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, and I feel like I can trust you." I take another deep breath. "Doctor Masen…Edward is no longer a patient of mine."

"Did something happen?"

"Yes," I chuckle nervously. "Without going into detail right now, I'll just say that he and I have become close."

"Oh." She deadpans, but I sense she's holding back.

"Leah, if you have something to say, please, just say it. We haven't known each other that long, but I do consider you a friend."

"I'm just...I'm worried."

"Worried? What about?"

"I've heard things about him. I mean he's obviously extremely handsome, and I know he's an amazing cardio-surgeon, but I hear he's trouble when it comes to women."

I'm not surprised at all by her concern. Edward's past lifestyle hasn't been a well-kept secret, and he certainly has never tried to hide it. But they don't know him the way I do. I'm sure of that.

"Edward is a complicated man, Leah, and I'm aware that he has a past, but it's just that. A past." I get up and walk toward my office.

"I understand. I didn't mean to overstep."

"You didn't." I smile warmly at her, so she knows I'm that I'm being honest. "And I appreciate your concern, but everything's fine. Don't worry so much it'll give you premature wrinkles. My mom told me that once." I frown, realizing that I am now quoting my mother. I hear her laugh as I enter my office.

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The patient sitting across from me is the perfect example of 'getting married too young and too soon'. Mr. and Mrs. Jeffries are a young couple who are in love and believed that they were ready for the commitment of marriage, without understanding that they both still had growing to do. And the real issue is that neither talked about their expectations before taking such a serious step. They were caught up in their emotions and passion. Hardly the first of such cases I've dealt with.

"He's never home. I'm young. He doesn't want me to work. What do you suggest I do all day? Stepping out on him isn't a choice I'm proud of, Doctor Swan." Her speech is staccato, her attitude bordering on belligerent.

It's obvious that she's used to getting a lot of attention or needs a lot of attention, and for whatever reason, she feels neglected and possibly undervalued by her husband. I know that this is not the case. In my meeting with Mr. Jeffries, I could tell that he adores his wife. But he, like most of us, is a product of his upbringing and other major influencing events in his life. He comes from a family where his mother and father were married soon after graduating from college, and after nearly twenty-five years, are still happy and very much in love. His father has built a very successful career and provided more than adequately for his family. His mother has never worked. Her main focus in life is to support her husband, build a loving home and nurture her family. She doesn't view this as a hardship, rather a privilege. She does charitable works and has a lively, fulfilling social life. Mr. Jeffries had grown up being loved and made to feel secure; he wants what his parents have. He had no idea what or understanding of how his wife was feeling until he discovered her infidelity. What I now need to determine is what caused her to cheat. On the surface, she comes across as being brash and almost unlikeable, but there generally is more to these things than meets the eye. I need to find out what her real story is. I've found that everyone has a story to tell and the need to be heard, the wronged as well as the wrongdoer. We all need to be validated.

She's clearly agitated, by my contemplation and picks up her bag, rummaging aimlessly through it.

"Mrs. Jeffries, would you tell me a little about your childhood?"

"What… what's that got to do with anything? It has nothing to do with the reasons that I'm here. I'm here because my husband wants to have marriage counseling. I don't know how that is going to help things. He says he can forgive me but that he can't forget. Why can't we just move on?"

"I prefer to call it couple's therapy, Mrs. Jeffries. Where we concentrate on both people in the relationship. How they feel as an individual and how they feel as half of a couple that are in a committed relationship. Learning about your childhood and knowing more about you will allow me to better understand you, as a person. So, let's start by you telling me where you grew up and about your parents, school life and friends. Did you have any pets?"

She huffs slightly but starts talking. And after a while, when she realizes that I'm not about to judge her, she opens up a bit more.

I learn that she grew up with a single mother. Her parents separated and were divorced when she was merely a toddler. Her mother always seemed a bit impatient with her. She was caring, but not particularly affectionate or loving. She was very ambitious and worked her way up from being a receptionist in a realtor's office, to owning her own thriving real estate business in Los Angelaes. Since her early childhood, she's always been told how important it was for her to build her own life and not to depend on a man for support. Her mother has had a number of short-term relationships with men younger than herself. She does not particularly believe in 'tying yourself to one person' or 'trusting in another person for your happiness', Mrs. Jeffries quotes.

Although she's only twenty-one, Mrs. Jeffries has had several short-term relationships, none of them very successful. She met Mr. Jeffries and at a mutual friend's graduation party in Chicago, and she found herself immediately smitten by him. He was so handsome, sexy and 'fuckable', as she put it. I silently empathize; I understand the appeal of a 'fuckable' man.

He, of course, was equally bowled over by her. He proposed after their third date, and they were married within two months of meeting. He's just starting a career in law, is doing remarkably well and is highly ambitious. He spends a lot of time at work. Her passion is in the arts, but she's not sure what direction she wants to pursue. All she knows is that she would like to be commercially successful one day. He'd like them to start a family young and would like her to be home at least until he's more settled into his career. He's afraid that if she is also actively pursuing a career, that they would see even less of each other. He feels that as he already has a job and knows what direction he's going in, that it makes sense.

I glance at my watch and see that our time is in fact, up.

"Our time is up, I'm afraid, Mrs. Jeffries. Thank you for sharing those parts of your life with me. I hope that now that you've met me and have a better idea of what to expect, that you will agree to attend the next session with your husband.

I can see that you feel guilty about your infidelity. But also, that you are frustrated at not being understood. I understand that. But, what you need to realize, is that cheating is not a way to solve your problems or to avoid dealing with what's really making you want to behave in such a manner."

She fidgets in her seat, and I see a glimpse of the defiant and petulant behavior that she demonstrated earlier.

"Well, I was forced into it by Bryan's behavior, Doctor Swan. You're just like him, thinking that I'm the only one to blame. If he was home…"

I cut her off before we lose the ground we've gained.

"Mrs. Jeffries, I'm not blaming you; and your husband is not here, so I can't discuss the part he may or may not have played in your infidelity. I'm speaking to you as we have discussed you today, not your husband. Every action has a reaction. Your husband's actions may well have played a part in your decision to cheat, but cheating is a choice. Based on some perceived or real action by him, you chose to behave a certain way. Behavior, if not moderated, can easily become habit. And you are in danger of developing a destructive habit. He may have been misguided, but your husband loves you, and I feel that you love him. If you don't open up and discuss your real feelings and admit to mistakes, then you will have no chance of saving your marriage. He may have some work to do, but whatever you feel he is responsible for, cheating is not the answer. It has not only deeply hurt your husband and caused damage to the trust in your relationship; it has damaged you in ways you have not yet realized. I agree that we need to talk about him, and we will, but that will only happen if you attend sessions with him."

She looks straight at me all the while I speak, and simply nods.

"I will schedule a couple's session for you and your husband in two weeks. In the meantime, I'd like you to be honest and open with your husband and tell him how you really feel and what you are afraid of."

She gets up and gathers her belongings, and turns to give me a tentative, unsure smile. "Thank you, Doctor Swan. I'll see you in two weeks, and please call me Amanda."

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It's late in the evening and I'm still at work. I have my favorite playlist of soft jazz, lowly playing, and I'm rummaging through the office fridge. I retrieve some veggie sticks and low-fat cottage cheese and return to my desk with plate in hand.

I haven't spoken to Edward since this morning. I reach for my phone to give him a call.

"Can I have some?"

I spin around in surprise. He's smiling at me from the doorway.

"I didn't hear you get off the elevator. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough. Dance with me?"

"What…here…no!"

"Why not? There's no one here but us." He loosens his tie, slips it from around his neck and drops it to the floor. He undoes his top button as he walks toward me.

"So?" I chuckle sardonically.

"So, we don't have to play by the rules, we're alone." He slinks his hands around my waist, resting them just above my bottom and pulls me to him and moves us slowly.

"I hate dancing," I smile up at him. He stares back at me with lustful eyes.

"But you love doing it with me."

"I love doing a lot of things with you."

"Careful, Doctor," he playfully warns.

"I'm always careful, Doctor."

The song fades and another starts up softly.

"Tell me what happened with Lauren."

I can tell I've soured the mood, but he continues to sway.

"I got her to admit that James was the one driving the car. It's in the hands of the police now." He lets out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry. I know that knowing the truth doesn't make you feel any better."

He shrugs dismissively, and he starts to slowly unbutton my blouse.

"I've been thinking of you all day."

He caresses my breasts through my silk camisole. My underwear moisten almost instantly.

"I've thought about you too." My eyes lock with his as his thumbs repeatedly circle my pert nipples.

"Is that so…what were you thinking about? He murmurs smoothly, and my legs feel like they might give out.

"You first."

He smirks and pulls away. My eyes instinctively travel down his length and linger on the bulge in his pants.

"Do you know that I when I first laid eyes on you, I wanted to take you on every surface of this office?" He motions with his hand around the room for emphasis. He steps back and opens the curtains. I frown at him.

"It's late. Why are you opening the curtains?"

"The view is beautiful at night. Haven't you ever noticed?" He walks back and kneels in front of me. With a sly grin, he slides his hands under my skirt and eases my panties down my legs. He lingeringly touches the lace tops of my stockings as he makes his way down.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you remember what I asked you the first time we had a session in here?" He rises to his feet, bunches my skirt up around my waist and undoes his pants, not bothering to fully shed them.

"Vaguely."

"Liar. You remember it exactly." I gasp in surprise as he lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist. His cloth covered hardness, brushes deliciously against my throbbing, moist heat.

He presses my bare backside against the cool glass and sucks my breasts savagely and grinds his hard cock into me. I'm getting so wet, and I want him inside me so badly, but what he's doing right now, feels so good. It's simultaneously exquisite and torturous. Coherent thought flees, as he pumps and moves with a in a maddening circular motion.

I'm pant uncontrollably. "Edward…please. I need you inside me…now."

"Mmmm…not yet. I want you ravenous for me." He pulls his hips away and begins to tease me with his fingers. My head falls back against the glass, as he rubs circles between my legs

I feel like I'm dangling from a cliff by my fingernails. He inserts his finger, while his thumb keeps up its ministrations.

"Oh…God!"

"I want you wild for me, Bella. I want to be the only man that you'll ever want.

He moves his hand faster, and my body arches into him as I explode in ecstasy. Before I know what I'm saying, the words fall from my lips. "You're the only man I'll ever want," I whisper as he slowly enters me.