Posted 2020-08-09; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12
As he blinked awake, Edward stared at the ceiling, catching sight of the blown-out camera. He grinned widely. It wasn't much, but it was certainly an amusing way to stick it to Aro. Gratified with his petty vandalism, he rolled over to look at Bella. She was still asleep, very soundly so, if her breathing was any indication.
When the three housekeeping staff had arrived the night before, Edward had waited for the members of the security team to follow. None had. Either Aro was waiting to respond, or he had decided that his guest's temper tantrum was beneath his notice. Given his central role in revising the security in Aro's organization, Edward wasn't too worried about what sort of response his action would garner. The idea of Pietro trying to make sense of the new network architecture without him was laughable. Shaking his head, he decided that there was no point in spending energy worrying about it today. Nope, today was for him and Bella. Whatever the fallout was—if there was any—he'd deal with it later.
Getting dressed quickly, he scribbled her a note, grabbed his phone, and then left the room. Most of his plans had been taken care of the morning before, but he wanted to make sure the final touches were in place. When he came back just over an hour later, Bella was seated at the small table, nibbling at her breakfast while she read a book.
"Good timing," she said. "I was about to steal your bacon."
"Glad I made it back in time, then," he said, picking up the lid over his plate and snatching up a slice. "I don't think we covered bacon custody in the prenup." He grinned at her, and she grinned back. "When you're done, go get dressed. I have a surprise for you."
"Not one that involves a gun, right?" She looked genuinely worried.
"Definitely not." He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with the result"—she looked up at the ceiling—"but, yeah."
She was quick in getting ready, and they were soon on their way, he with a large backpack full of supplies that he wouldn't list when she asked. When they came to the scooter he'd parked earlier, he watched her eyes widen.
"Uh . . ."
"What, not a fan of two wheels, Swan?"
"I've never been on a scooter before."
Yeah, there'd been a lot of firsts for her lately, he thought wryly.
He paused, resting his hand on the seat. "I wouldn't put you on anything unsafe. All you need to do is hold on." He grinned. "And I don't mind if you scream. Or squeal. Just not in my ear."
She rolled her eyes. "Squeal. Thanks."
Still, she seemed nervous.
He handed her the helmet, wondering how much encouragement she'd need to get on.
As it turned out, very little. She held on tightly—so tightly that he had trouble catching a deep breath at first—and he heard a few gasps at some of the tight corners they took, but after a few minutes her vise-like grip relaxed marginally.
Their destination was the top of a fairly steep stone embankment that led down to a tiny beach. He helped her down to the bottom, where he pulled out a bandana. "Completely optional," he said, "but it would make it a real surprise."
"We're back to blindfolds, huh?" she asked nervously.
"Completely optional," he said again. Her response to the idea wasn't unexpected. "But"—he brushed his hand down her cheek—"Trust me? humor me?" He knew he was being manipulative with this request, but he did want her to have the pleasure of the revelation.
"Okay." She took a deep breath.
"You can change your mind at any point," he assured her, tying the blindfold on gently. He led her towards the spot he'd chosen to reveal his surprise and turned her by her shoulders to face it. "Here we are," he said, feeling a little apprehensive as he pulled off the bandana.
He needn't have worried.
Her jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh—whoa—how?" She took in the space before them, where a large marquee-style tent stood. It was huge—the size of a small apartment, really—and more importantly, entirely private. It faced the water, and no one would be able to see in from outside. Not that there was another soul anywhere around. Two large, flower-filled planters stood on the wide carpet in front of the tent's heavy drapes.
"Want to see inside?"
The space was fully furnished. Filling some of it was a queen size camp bed and air mattress, as well as a full-sized wicker couch. A large cooler was tucked away behind the small table and chairs. The ground had been raked to level it, with a large carpet set down to complete the room-like feel. The mesh windows were covered with gauzy curtains, and it was surprisingly bright and airy, protecting them from the growing warmth of the day.
"How did this get down here?" She looked back the way they'd come. The rocky slope was manageable on foot, but he could see her wondering at the logistics.
"I mean, sorry—thank you so much, this is just—I'm just so—how? When?" She squeezed his hand.
He chuckled. She was surprised and, more importantly, happily so. "I didn't ask, but I imagine a moveable boom crane would do the trick." He shrugged. "There's a bathroom of sorts around back, too."
"There's a bathroom?"
"And a shower, though I'm thinking the hot water tank is probably pretty small."
She continued to look around her, still thoroughly wide-eyed. When she settled her gaze back on him, her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome. It's—I wanted you to have some privacy . . . and comfort, if only for a little while. The beach belongs to that cafe up there but we have it until sunset." He'd thought she would appreciate it, and it was both a relief and a thrill that she was so pleasantly awed by it all.
She sat on the bed, sliding her hand over the comforter, laughing. "Now I wish I'd brought my swimsuit."
Edward smiled and held up his finger, asking her to hold that thought as he pulled his backpack off. "You did. And your books, sunscreen, and some extra clothes, too."
"If there's grape soda somewhere, too, you're a saint."
He smiled. He'd picked up two bottles of her beloved grape Fanta that morning. "Check."
The water was very cold but refreshing, and Edward swam while Bella splashed around in it for a couple of hours. They explored the cove together, occasionally stopping to sit on the pebbly sand and enjoy the view. The beach was tiny, but they had the whole thing to themselves, and it occurred to Edward that this was the longest time they had been both alone and unsurveilled since their arrival. The relief of being able to be himself even for these few hours felt like a gift he'd given to himself as much as to Bella.
"Can I, um, ask you about that?" Bella said, suddenly timid. They sat facing each other on a rock outcropping at the edge of the beach, the water swirling around their feet. With some amusement, Edward had noticed her stealing glances at his chest for the last several minutes, but he'd been waiting to see if she was brave enough to bring this up. She never had before, the handful of times she'd seen him without a shirt. "Your tattoo?" she said to clarify.
"Sure."
She reached out her hand and gently touched his chest with two fingers. "It's the Marine emblem, right? But it looks different than . . . it just looks different. Isn't the eagle usually on top of the earth symbol?"
"I'm impressed that you know that. Did someone look it up on the internet?" he teased gently.
"Maybe." She was still stroking the outline of the image, and surprisingly not blushing while doing so. "This one, the wings are almost wrapped around, like it's being . . . protective, I guess?" She glanced up at his face, looking for him to confirm her assessment.
He nodded and swallowed. Having her hand on him like this was making it hard not to be affected. "What else do you see?"
She studied the image again. "It's holding a flower in its talons."
"A rose." he said softly.
She was quiet for a moment before she asked, "So, is that when you joined up? After she . . ?"
"Not long after," he confirmed. "I was thinking about enlisting anyway, after 9/11, but once I was in, I wanted something to remind myself to never let down my guard—and to keep my commitments. To remember how much my failures can cost someone, whether it's a fellow soldier or . . . someone else."
"I can see that," she said gently. She let her fingers drift down toward his ribs until she was touching the small, darkened indentation in his side. "You have scars."
"Yes."
"Was this a . . . bullet?" She lifted her eyes to his again.
"It was. It went right through. I was only down for a day."
But the Marine behind me wasn't so lucky.
Bella grimaced but said nothing as she continued her visual exploration. Edward waited patiently, fascinated by her sudden interest.
She touched the puckered scar on his arm, barely visible under the Semper Fi tattoo he'd gotten to obscure it. "This one?" she murmured, not looking up.
He gave a small shrug. "Knife. Fallujah." He didn't like thinking about that one—or the first time he'd taken a life.
Watching her shiver, he didn't think it was because of the breeze.
"I have another one," he said, deciding to lighten things up. "Can you find it?"
Bella did blush this time. Yes, she'd seen it but it wouldn't have been today. It was low on his abdomen, definitely lower than the waistband of his swim trunks, but it might have been visible the other night in the bathroom. She tentatively laid her hand on his waist, just above it. "This one?"
He nodded, making himself frown. "Yes. It's . . . hard to talk about . . ." He let his voice trail off.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "Was it . . . a knife, too?"
He nodded, looking into her eyes and wondering if she could see the mischief in his. "Yes," he said solemnly, and then leaned closer and whispered, "Appendectomy."
It took her a moment and then her eyes widened with shock and outrage. "Edward Cullen! You jerk!" And as he bent over laughing, Bella leaned down to scoop up a handful of seawater and hurl it into his face. Then she used both hands to shove him in the chest, and he lost his perch on the rocks, landing painfully on the rough, pebbled ground.
The look of surprise on her face at having managed to drop him on his ass just made him laugh harder and, after a few moments of fighting it, she joined in. Then they sat grinning at each other.
"Okay," she said, "I could use that warm shower about now." Then she looked to him, "Will there be enough water for both of us?"
"Go ahead, it's fine," Edward said, shaking his head. He'd had his share of cold showers in the military.
"Even though I'm not sure you deserve it after that stunt, come in with me," she said. "Then you won't be cold."
From the tone of her voice, he knew it was an entirely innocent suggestion, but he watched her realize that it could be interpreted otherwise. "I mean, I was just thinking practically—"
"I get it, Bella." He was struggling not to laugh, but now that he truly understood her innocence and inexperience, it made for some pretty humorous moments. He was trying hard not to enjoy them at her expense. "But I wouldn't mind rinsing off the saltwater."
As they rounded the tent to the separate enclosure that housed the shower and small toilet, she shook her head again. "I still can't believe you arranged all this. Do I want to know what it cost?"
"Nope." He pulled open the door to the shower, realizing a couple of things: bathing together would be an intimate experience, and it was going to be a challenge for it not to be an arousing one, even with their swimsuits on. "Uh, if you want to change your mind—"
She shook her head, laughing easily. "It's fine, Edward. I trust you."
The words, so casually expressed, made him shiver. He watched a bead of water run down her back as she stepped inside. He'd never found a woman's trust to be so alluring before, but hers was.
She's trusted you with a lot, her life included. Don't screw it up.
"No plans to," he muttered to himself.
Stepping in with her, he enjoyed the feel of her giggle as they stood pressed together under the spray. It was cold at first and she gasped a little in shock. They took turns under the nozzle, both of them laughing at the contortions the tiny space required.
It struck him that he was having fun—the most he'd had in a long time. It was like she'd pulled some bricks from the load of responsibility and remorse he carried around with him. He felt lighter for being with her.
After changing into the clothes Edward had packed, they snacked through the lunch that had been left in the cooler, which featured a tray of fruits, meats, and cheeses.
"Nary a vegetable in sight," she pronounced. "Nice."
He laughed. "Don't tell my mom."
"Your secret is safe with me." Book in hand, she flopped onto the bed on her stomach, knees bent, feet in the air. She turned to look at him when he joined her, lying beside her on his back. He liked being with her this way. It allowed him to see the many micro-expressions that traveled over her face when she read.
It was peaceful, listening to the shuffle of pages as she turned them and the soft wash of the water on the rocks. He found himself waking up from an impromptu nap to the pleasant sensation of her hand brushing over his cheek.
"You were talking," Bella said softly.
"I was?" He rubbed his face with his hands. Damn. "What did I say?"
"My name."
Oh. He cast about for a reason or appropriate dream that would not make her uncomfortable. It had been a nice dream, the bits and pieces he could remember.
And then she leaned in and kissed him, cupping his face with her hands. Caught off guard, he reciprocated without thought, his body quickly rousing at the thoughts such an action might inspire.
He pulled back. This was not what he'd had in mind when he arranged their time alone, and the idea that she might feel beholden to him—sexually or otherwise—bothered him. "Bella, I didn't do this for . . . this. I did this so you—so that we could have some privacy. Things have been so intense. We both needed the freedom to just be ourselves."
"I know. I didn't think there was any ulterior motive about this at all. We're friends, right? I believe you."
He watched doubt and uncertainty spread over her face. "Do you. . . you don't want to"—she blushed, looking around—"never mind."
He reached for her hand. "Bella, there's no question of want. Do I want to be with you? Yes, of course, I do. I just—I don't want you to feel you have to."
"And I don't, but I definitely want to."
Though that was wonderfully bold of her, there was another reason he was quite sure she'd be keenly aware of if he said yes. "You're probably still pretty sore—"
"I'm fine." It didn't sound like she wanted to be challenged on her assessment, either.
"I'm glad you feel fine, now, but if we did what you're asking, I think that might change."
She leaned her cheek on her hand as she rested on her elbow, her arm forming a triangle on the bed. She reached out with her other hand, teasing his hair, stroking his cheek. He closed his eyes. Her touch felt amazing.
"Then do what you would have done if you'd known it was my first time."
He lasted three breaths before turning himself onto his side and leaning over her, one hand at her head, the other at her hip as he kissed her. He groaned, pressing his body against hers, letting any notion of his lack of desire be dispelled. Bella made a similar sound, her hands smoothing over his head, his neck, his shoulders. She settled them at his waist, where she went no further.
He took his time kissing her, thinking of how he would have been with her if he'd known how significant the moment was the other night.
You mean if you'd have allowed yourself to be with her, knowing what you know now.
He shook off the thought. There was no changing the past. He owed her this now, a gentler introduction carried out with thoughtfulness and patience.
Bella was far less patient, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He laughed as she struggled to pull it off of him, finally helping her. Then he showed off, using his teeth to undo the topmost buttons of her blouse. He let his fingers do the rest of them as he lingered over her breasts. Simple lace, he decided, was entirely underrated. It cupped the soft flesh so nicely, and through it he could so easily find sensitive places with his tongue. She arched against him as he did just that, and he grinned.
With her hands grasping his arms, she pulled him back up to her so she could reach down and try to tug his shorts off. He removed them quickly and smoothly, smiling at her sharp inhale and averted eyes. He hadn't bothered putting on underwear after he'd showered, and it appeared she hadn't expected that.
Her bout of shyness was brief, and when he performed the same maneuver on her, she lifted her hips to help him.
"Um," she said hesitantly, as if realizing something in the moment. "We don't have . . . anything."
"Yes," he replied as he continued to kiss and nuzzle behind her ear, "we actually do." He could practically hear her thinking shift directions.
"I thought you said you hadn't planned on this being—this."
"I didn't." He pushed himself up on his hands and then lowered himself to brush the tip of his nose against hers. "I also brought a medical kit, a satellite phone, euros, and our passports. I'm really hoping we don't need any of them, but you never know, do you?" Winking playfully, he skirted the fact that he'd also packed his knife and guns. If she had been paying attention since they'd arrived in Italy, and he was fairly certain she had, she'd already know.
His explanation seemed to satisfy her, because she accepted his next kiss eagerly as he teased inside her lips with his tongue.
"Well, hurray for the Marines," she said, panting when they broke apart. "Always prepared, right?"
He cringed and then laughed. "Oh, Bella. I need to fill in some of the holes in your knowledge there." He would wait until later to point out that she was quoting the motto for the Boy Scouts . . . and that no self-respecting Marine would utter their battle cry in a way that sounded anything like "hurray".
"Holes." She laughed. "You mean craters, but yeah, later," she whispered, spreading her fingers out from his waist to his hips.
"Later," he moaned.
Oh, her hands on him felt amazing. He gathered his focus, recalling that she'd asked something of him, and he had some very specific things in mind.
He slipped his fingers between her legs, brushing the sensitive skin there, exploring gently. His motion had the desired effect, and she whimpered and twisted under his touch.
"Before last night, had anyone touched you here?" he asked, kissing her neck.
"No." Her skin flushed under his lips. She was flustered.
"I'm the first?"
"Mm-hmm."
He parted her the tiniest bit with his fingers, not saying out loud how much he liked what she'd just confirmed. He did like it—in a stupidly possessive way. No matter what the future held for the two of them, she would remember him as her first. The thought jarred him. He didn't want there to be a future where someone else touched her. But he could deal with that later. He was busy right now.
He moved his fingers back and forth, gently stroking, watching her breathing increase as her hands abandoned his hips to fist the blanket beneath her. Her pleasure-induced sounds were wordless and coming quickly together. He knew that it was unlikely she would finish this way, but his efforts now could lead to that soon.
But he needed to go get something before things went any further.
"I'll be right back."
He grinned at the disappointed whine she made as he practically leaped off the bed, plucking one of the condoms from the side pocket of the backpack.
"Want to do this?" he asked, grinning and waving it playfully at her.
He liked that he now knew her blush started right above her breasts. "Um—I haven't—"
"Then help me," he said. She hadn't touched him yet, and he suspected she was too shy to do so in the light of day, at least without some help. He guided her hands, talking her through it. "Thank you," he whispered when she finished, wrapping an arm around her and tipping her back onto the bed.
Settling between her legs, he pressed himself where he'd used his fingers earlier. He felt Bella's hands on him in turns at his back, neck, waist, and finally his ass as she strained to draw him closer. Her fingers were claw-like there, digging into his flesh in a way that told him she was trying with all her might to pull him inside her.
It was cute, her effort, and he wasn't above teasing her for it. "I like that you think you can do that, but you're gonna need to do a lot more pushups first."
She groaned. "You're torturing me."
He lifted both eyebrows at this particular phrasing.
"I mean—"
Nuzzling her nose with his, he chuckled. "You asked me to do this a certain way, and I will. And if you consider that torture, well . . ."
She moaned good-naturedly and then sighed. The sound still displayed her frustration, but it wasn't as much as before.
Good.
Despite how slowly he was taking things, it was so easy between them. She responded eagerly to his touch and it felt . . . right. He couldn't find the precise word. He'd never felt this way before, certainly not with the girls he'd dated when he was younger, and not even with Tanya.
When he was sure Bella's body was ready, and he nudged inside of her, it took more effort than he'd anticipated to keep himself from moving further right away. But as he rocked slowly, letting her body become acclimated to his, he could see and feel the tiny tells of discomfort in her hands and the tensing at her hips. He'd worried that he'd hurt her doing this so soon after her first time, and hurting her was something he had no interest in doing.
As if she'd divined his apprehension, she put her hands to his face. "Don't stop. I want this, and I trust you."
Those three words. He buried his face in her neck and her hair, groaning, sliding even further inside. She moaned under him. "More."
So much for going slowly.
He pushed the rest of the way in, earning himself a series of sharp gasps, but not of pain.
He felt her spasming around him and he slowed to let her ride out her climax before he made his final thrusts, his pleasure cresting as hers was waning.
Though he was quick to dispose of the condom, he returned even more quickly to her, pulling her tightly against him. She felt nearly boneless in his arms, sighing once as her breathing returned to normal. She seemed overcome, in a good way, by the experience and he couldn't help feeling pleased that he could give that to her.
"That's what I would have wanted for you the other night," he said softly.
After a moment, she turned in his arms, capturing his face in her hands and kissing him. "Thank you."
He returned the kiss. "I think I'm supposed to say that to you."
It was right before sunset when they began packing to leave, both of them with heavy sighs.
"Ready for reality?" she asked.
"If it includes dealing with our creepy freaking hosts, then no."
"Ditto," Bella said, and then there was a look of concern on her face. "Did anyone . . . this morning, did you hear any more about last night? The camera? Are you in any trouble?"
Edward shrugged. "I'll be fine." He really didn't want anything to ruin their last few minutes alone. "I like that you worry about me, Swan, but I really can take care of myself."
She smiled. "I know, but you take care of me, too. I'd just like to think I can do the same for you."
He hoisted the backpack over his shoulder before walking over to her and briefly laying a hand against her cheek. "Believe me, Bella, you do." He had the urge to say more but all she needed after such a pleasant day was for him to start spilling his guts again.
How can I tell her that most days I think she's the only thing here keeping me sane?
She still looked dubious but he caught the little smirk at the corner of her mouth. "So, you're saying I take care of you by . . . guarding your bacon and not hogging the bathroom?"
He couldn't help chuckling. "If we're gonna start making lists, can we get back up that hill first? If I don't get dinner soon, I won't have the strength, and I'll have to spend the night down here."
That made her laugh. "Can I join you?"
Huh. Look at that. No blush.
"Anytime, Bella." He tried to sound lighthearted but it came out a little more sincerely than he'd intended. He cleared his throat and held out his hand. "Let's go."
All too soon, they were climbing back up to what Edward hoped would be their last few days captive to Aro's suspicions and dubious hospitality.
And anything else that might be waiting for him.
Author's postscript: A big thank you to readers who have politely PM'd me and asked if they could give me some constructive criticism. My answer is always an enthusiastic "Yes, please!" So, if any of you have feedback that you're worried is too critical, or perhaps might not be appropriate for a review, please know that feedback and questions are welcome in whatever format you're comfortable using.
~ Erin
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.