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BAG BOY
CHAPTER 19
CougarCougarCougarCougarCougarCougarCougarCougar
When I missed his music, I played our Spotify list.
When I missed his voice or wanted his opinion or needed to hear him say "I love you," I called.
When I missed his smiles and his laughter, we FaceTimed—but it wasn't the same as having him here with me.
When I missed his kisses and his arms around me and the feel of his skin sliding along mine, I could only close my eyes and try to remember.
And I was okay with all that because there's no way I would get in the way of his success, and Edward was working his ass off at school . . . until he wasn't.
With a week to the finish line, his phone calls came in more frequently, and our conversations turned from the mundane to the ridiculous: Did I tell you this joke I heard? Where should we go to dinner when I come home? What are you wearing right now?
"Are you procrastinating, Edward Cullen?"
Even when I couldn't see his face, I could hear his guilty grin. "A guy can't talk to his rubber band girlfriend now?"
"What are we avoiding, exams or papers?"
"Eh. Busted," he said with a sigh.
"Tell you what," I replied. "Write out your timetable for getting the work done—all of it. Send me a picture of your schedule, and we'll talk."
"What is this, Bella?"
"I'm going to work out an incentive system for you. Goodbye for now, cub."
"But, Bella—"
Click.
He'd be surprised at first, then maybe a little irritated that his plan to draw me into the rabbit hole with him didn't work. And soon enough, because he was a very, very smart cub, he would set to working out that timetable, knowing I was not fucking around . . . and also knowing it was going to work out very well for him once he cooperated. Though I had never repeated the promise I'd made to Carlisle, I'm sure Edward knew my demands were made with his best interests at heart.
The whole process took him all of twenty-one minutes before his hand-drawn page popped up in my text messages. I printed out the detailed grid he'd put together for each class with due dates and exams listed at the far right, each task divided into manageable chunks across the page. I had no doubt he was already feeling less overwhelmed. Well done, cub.
I texted back: Impressive
He answered with a blush emoji.
You may message me again when you have an outline done for your paper on keto diets.
If he had anything to say about my demands, he was smart enough to restrain himself. Not gonna lie, I held my phone in my hand for the next half hour until he messaged me back.
Outline done.
I x-ed out that box on his schedule and picked a different task. Good boy. Review your Fin2 post-midterm notes for 45 minutes. You don't have to start right away or work straight through, but know that you may call me when you're done. Got it?
Got it.
My phone rang fifty-three minutes later. "Well, hello there."
"Hey," he said in a weary voice. "Before I miss the chance to say this, you need to know my brain is pretty fried right now."
"And here I thought you were going to tell me how much you missed me!"
The sweet sound of his soft chuckle filled my ears. "Bella, if I didn't miss you so damn bad, I'd be six episodes deep into repeats of season three of The Office right now."
"Aw, poor baby. Were you productive?"
"Yes," he said. "Thank you. I guess I needed a little kick in the ass to get me back on track."
"Mmhmm, and a few more to keep you there."
"Um . . . sorry, what?"
"I want you to get a good night's sleep and FaceTime me tomorrow from the library at nine a.m.—and bring your nutrition notes."
"Bella, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I got this."
"I know, baby," I said cheerily, "and I've got you."
He sighed. "Do me a favor?"
"What's that?"
"Snap that rubber band around your wrist a little harder than usual?"
I felt my lips curl into a smile. "I see studying has made you feisty."
"No, your bossing me around has made me feisty."
Just like the good ol' bag boy days, I was tempted to reply. But that would have been untrue. Feisty was the last word I would have used to describe my sweet, meek bag boy, who'd let me strip him, tease him, and use him at my own whim. That boy complied without challenging even my most outlandish demands for one reason—sex—until that was no longer enough for him.
I suspected Edward knew there would be a sexy prize worthy of his efforts at the bottom of his Cracker Jack box this time, too. But this young man, my rubber band boyfriend, submitted himself to me now because he trusted me, because that rubber band around my wrist told him I would do the same for him in a heartbeat. A bright burst of gratitude brought tears to my eyes.
"I love you too, cub," I said softly. "Sweet dreams."
Bagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboy
By noon, I'd finished a solid first draft of my keto paper. Outside the library, I sent Bella the text she'd been waiting for: ETA to dorm room- 13 min
FT me on your laptop when you're there, she messaged back, quickening my steps.
My heart felt lighter than it had in days. I still had plenty of work and studying before I crossed the finish line, but I'd made a huge dent. More importantly, I'd leaned into the work rather than finding a way to ignore it and let the demons have their way. There was no doubt in my mind that left to my own devices, I would have pissed away the morning and felt all the worse for it by now, but there was no way Bella would let that happen.
I shook my damn head, chuckling to myself. Of course, Bella would pick up on my lack of discipline, even from far away. As clever as she was at masking her own feelings, I never could get away with anything. Hell, maybe I wasn't even trying.
At 12:13, after making sure Mike was out, I connected with Bella on FaceTime. My mouth went dry when the picture of Bella popped up on my screen. Leather and skin, skin and leather. Fuck me.
"Hello, cub."
The temperature in my tiny cave rose by ten degrees. I swallowed hard, pushing the hair back from my face. "Hi. You look . . . amazing."
"I'm proud of you, cub," she said, ignoring my compliment. "I'm going to show you what happens when you do a good job. Set your laptop on your desk. You're going to need both hands for this."
Gulp. I did as she asked, then stood in front of the camera, waiting for my next command.
She sat on the edge of her living room couch, where the two of us had spent so many hours kissing and fucking. My dick strained against my shorts.
"Hands at your sides, cub." So much for adjusting myself.
She crossed her legs, and the black leather miniskirt—the one I'd dreamt about since she'd ended my four-day edging extravaganza by sitting on my face wearing that thing—rode up her thighs. I leaned in for a better view.
She lifted her arms over her head and unsnapped the top of her halter top. "Eyes up he-eere," she sing-songed with a grin. The leather flopped forward, baring her breasts to the camera, drawing a whimper from me. One more snap at her lower back, and the top fell away.
With hands covered in shiny black gloves that reached to her elbows, she cupped her breasts, plucking and rolling her nipples between her fingertips. I could practically feel those tiny pink knots between my teeth.
"Your turn, cub," she said.
I stared back, dumbstruck. "Huh?"
She grinned. "Take off your shirt, baby. Run your hands over your chest for me."
I tugged my shirt off and drew my hands along my pecs, my eyes riveted to the play of black latex against her sweet flesh. We played follow-the-leader for a few minutes, kneading our own chests and pretending we had our hands on each other instead.
With a loud sigh, she leaned back, opening her legs wide to the camera. "You know what good boys get, don't you, cub?" There was nothing under that skirt, not a single hair, as far as I could tell. With a sexy move that nearly made me come in my shorts, she pushed the skirt up to her waist, then shimmied forward so my whole screen was her beautiful pussy.
"Oh god, Bella."
"Your turn," she said with a whisper, and I kicked off my shorts and underwear in a flash. I prayed she wouldn't make me wait too long. One gloved hand appeared and pressed open her sweet pussy lips. "Touch yourself while you watch me."
I did not need a second invitation. Taking my cock in hand, I started a slow, steady pump.
"Ah, there it is," she said. "I wish I could wrap my lips around you right now"—another gloved finger slipped into view, shining with her saliva—"and feel your hot mouth on my pussy." She pressed the tip of her slick finger to her clit and moaned. "Are you ready to come with me, baby?"
"YES!"
"C'mon, cub. Let me see you let go!"
I swayed on my feet—from the visual of black latex meeting her delicate, pink folds, the picture she was painting in my mind of her lips wrapped around my cock, the pressure of my hand. I came hard and so fast, she didn't quite make the finish line with me. The upside was I got to watch her spasms of pleasure while drifting in my own afterglow. As near perfect as sex could be with far too much distance between us.
~#~#~
The next hour was one of the most difficult of my life. Bella had sent me out for a "protein-smart lunch" while she read through my keto paper. What the hell was I thinking, asking her to take a look at my writing? I asked myself repeatedly, as worries nagged me all the way to the Runner Café and back.
Could our already complicated power dynamic handle yet another dimension? It was one thing to submit to the occasional S&M role play; could I really handle her criticism of my work? What if she thinks I'm stupid? What if I don't like her ideas? Is this going to get ugly?
How could it not?
Bella's email was not entirely reassuring on the matter:
Edward, I want you to know how much I appreciate your trust in asking me to review your paper. I've left you my thoughts in the doc so you can go through them at your own pace and take your time digesting. Please feel free to challenge, ask questions, or discard any or all of my notes. It's been a very long time since anyone's asked me for critical feedback.
~B
P.S. Let's check in at 5. I'll message you.
I braced myself before opening the file she'd sent back, and it's a damn good thing I did. Forty-five comments down the right-hand margin. Almost six per page! Well, fuck me.
I stuffed the phone in my pocket with a heavy sigh and headed back to my dorm. My whole body buzzed with frustration, mostly at myself. Best case scenario, I had a shit ton of work ahead of me. By the time I got to my room, I was way too keyed-up to be productive. I jammed my swim trunks into my backpack and jogged to the pool.
I swam hard, making the most of my workout. I punished myself with extra laps of butterfly, as if tiring my muscles could silence the storm inside me. When I had spent the last of my anxious energy, I emerged feeling calmer, if nothing else. After a long, hot shower, I got my shit together and walked my ass to the library. Determined to dig in with an open mind, I set up camp at a quiet carrel and opened the file on my laptop. What I found made me ashamed of myself.
Ashamed that I'd so quickly doubted Bella and myself.
The truth was, her comments were not only spot on, but at least one-third were complimentary. I found Bella all over the pages: her sense of humor, her real-world experience and wisdom, her knowledge of nutrition, her skill with words, and more than anything else, her love and support of yours truly.
"You are a fucking idiot," I told myself. I knew I would confess to Bella eventually, but right now, the best way to honor her effort was to put my nose into the books and use her comments to improve my paper.
When she messaged me at five, I wrote back immediately: I'm on a roll. Mind if we speak later?
She answered with a heart emoji.
It was dark outside when I left the library at 8:30. I'd worked for five hours straight, and I hadn't eaten more than a power bar since lunch, but I was higher than a kite. I'd finished two papers and prepared my study sheets for all three of my business finals. I'd never worked so hard on schoolwork in my life.
I couldn't wait to tell Bella.
I dialed her number and set off toward the dining hall with my phone glued to my ear. I waited impatiently as the phone rang once, twice, three times before going to voicemail.
"Oh, hey, Bella. Looks like you're out. Hope you're having a nice time whatever you're doing. Just wanted to let you know I'm—"
"If you would like to replay your message, please press one . . ."
I hung up and slid my phone into my pocket as the wind blew out of my sails. I was exhausted and starved and missing Bella. My mother's voice filled my head: "You were always such a dramatic boy." I rolled my eyes at my mom and myself.
My phone rang just then, saving me from further misery. "Hi, Bella."
"Hey. Sorry I missed your call," she said. "You okay?"
"I'm good. Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"I'm out to dinner with Rose."
"We can talk later . . . but I think I'm gonna crash early tonight."
"Gimme one sec, okay?" she said.
"Sure."
I heard her tell Rose, "It's Edward. I'm just gonna step outside for a few." I could tell Bella was moving through the restaurant . The background noise cut out when she got outside.
"Hi. Sorry about that. Rose is going through a tough breakup right now. I didn't want to cut her off."
"Oh, I don't want to keep you." That was a lie. I totally wanted to keep her.
"No, it's fine. How's your paper going?"
"My paper is done. I submitted it to my professor two hours ago."
"Done? Good for you! Are you still speaking to me?" Wow, was she really as anxious as I'd been?
"Not only am I speaking to you, I'm hiring you to be my full-time editor. Your comments were super helpful."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Must be all those communications classes."
"Who'd've thunk it?" she said, making me chuckle. "I'm so glad my notes helped, though. That's wonderful."
"I just called to say thank you. Oh, and whatever incentives you had in mind for finishing my Entrepreneurial Management paper and studying for my Accounting final are now due and payable."
"Well, well, well. Look at you go," she said, her smile coming through loud and clear.
"I know, right? Who'd've thunk it?"
"I hate to be a know-it-all, but I'd've thunk it. You can do anything with the proper motivation."
"You trying to make me blush or what?"
"Nah, don't waste your blush on this. Wait till we get to those incentives!"
"Such a tease," I said, my heart so happy and full, I was surprised it hadn't popped right out of my chest.
"Yep, and you love it."
"Obviously," I huffed. "You better get back to your friend. Have a nice evening, Bella. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"
"You can count on that, cub."
~#~#~
Mom and Dad would be pissed if they found out, but technically, I hadn't lied. I'm not going home from school until tomorrow, and I am picking up Bella on the way to breakfast—I just have a layover.
A lay. Over and over and over . . .
The sign of a punchy mind at work, but honestly it's a miracle my brain worked at all after this week. I could've held off packing up all my shit until after my last final, but this time I knew what was waiting for me at the other end of my ride home—my gorgeous, sexy, supportive girlfriend and her "grand finale" of study incentives.
Per her instructions, I waited until I'd reached the highway before calling.
"Well, hello there, rising junior," she said in a tone that left no doubt she meant my dick.
"Not yet, but I hope to be soon."
"How did your last exam go?"
"Fine, I think. I'm just really fucking happy to be done and heading home." If she noticed my reference to her house as "home," she didn't say it out loud. "Come on, Bella, what do you have for me? I know it's gotta be good!"
"All right. Your assignment, should you choose to accept it—"
"I accept it!" Had I ever not?
She giggled. "Hold onto your steering wheel, cub. From the moment you arrive at my door until ten tomorrow morning, you may do with me what you will."
Say what, now? Bella had never given me that kind of free rein. Even our night at the Roosevelt was limited by pre-approved guidelines. This was a gesture of pure trust on her part. I was humbled, and my dick was, let us say, interested.
"Um, can you repeat that please? I think we must have a bad connection . . ."
"That's funny, I can hear you loud and clear." Oh, the sweet sarcasm. I could picture that smirk I loved so much.
"So, let me get this straight. I may do whatever I will with you?"
"That is correct." I wondered if she'd already begun to rethink her offer. Nah, that wasn't Bella's style. When she jumped in, both feet landed at once.
"Wow! So I'm in charge of everything for more than twelve hours?"
"I'm assuming we'll sleep for some of that, but yes." A good night's sleep actually sounded pretty damn sexy right now. If not for Bella's mind games, I would've happily settled for a kiss and a cuddle while I drifted off to sleep.
"And I can do anything to you, demand anything, and you have to do it?" Images were already crowding my mind—dirty, dirty images that required a tweak of the twig and berries arrangement in my shorts.
"That's right. You're the boss."
"I could make you stand on your head in the middle of the street, buck naked?"
"In theory, yes," she replied. "I'd probably have to move after that, but I leave it to you."
I laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. The idea I could ever harm her was so foreign to me, and yet, she had actually gone and answered the question. "Got it."
"Drive safe, cub."
"Oh, don't worry, Bella. I'm not about to miss this night." I hung up with a huge smile on my face, and I hoped she wore a matching one.
A best-of reel scrolled through my head. That couch, the parking lot at work, the ocean, the shower, Bella's bed, the massage table, the Roosevelt . . . What to do, what to do . . .
The games, the toys, the leather . . . oh my!
Lucky for me, the route home was basically one long road most of the way; I was good and truly distracted. And horny as fuck.
I wanted Bella as worked up as I was, wanted her anticipating my return, wondering what nasty things I might make her do, perhaps hoping for something specific. Basically, I wanted her feeling the way I'd felt every damn time Bella had summoned me to her house, like a tight coil of jangly nerve endings tingling for her attention—a simple look, the slightest caress, any chance to please her.
Think like Bella, the foreplay queen. Hell, look what she'd done to me just by offering herself! She had a way of igniting the spark of imagination at the end of my fuse so that by the time she got to me, I was inches from blowing.
I called her back, and she answered as if she'd been expecting my call. "Yes?" Definitely smirking.
"I need a clarification on the rules."
"Shoot."
"Am I allowed to stipulate ahead of time what I expect of you when you greet me?" Gulp. I'd stepped way out on that limb now. "You know, lighting, music, personal grooming, what to wear, whether you're on your feet or your knees or all fours, that sort of thing?"
"Oh," she whispered on a quaky breath. "I can see you've given this some thought."
"Yep."
"Sure, that seems fair. Did you want to stipulate now or think some more?"
"I'll get back to you."
"I cannot wait," she said, noticeably less sarcastic than before.
Oh, but you will. And while you do, my dear, kinky girlfriend, you will spin your own delicious fantasies on top of mine.
I left her to stew in her own imagination as my ideas sorted themselves out into rank order. My brain was in no shape for complex thought tonight, nor would I last long once she touched me. We were talking one-and-done tonight, possibly a twofer if I could catch a catnap in between.
Half an hour out, I called her again. I wanted to give her some prep time . . . but not enough to get everything ready without a little agitation. I wanted her to work for it.
"You must be getting close," she said.
"I want you ready for me in twenty minutes. I want you fresh from the shower, hair up in a ponytail, completely naked . . . except for those black latex gloves you wore on our FaceTime the other night." Jesus, how the hell did Bella issue these commands without busting a nut? "Got that so far?"
"I do," she said evenly.
"Good. And I'd like you to light a bunch of those candles you used that night you gave me the massage . . . place them all around the living room and turn off all the lights. Unlock the front door and wait just inside." And now for the really fun part . . . "Face away from the door on your knees, wrists crossed behind your back, with your forehead pressed to the floor."
The forehead bit was, admittedly, a dick move, a twisted creation of an extremely horny young man left to his own devices and his own palm for six long weeks. If she'd balked even in the slightest, I would've taken it back. But Bella was a yoga animal, and I had yet to explore all the ways she could bend that incredible body. Besides, the ass-up, face-to-the-floor pose might just help even the score for all the tortures she put me through during my four days of chastity.
She didn't balk. Not even a little.
"Was there anything else you wanted to tell me before you get here?"
"Yes," I said. "I have missed you so very fucking much. See you soon, baby."
~#~#~
I jiggled the knob as I turned it; I didn't want to give the poor girl a heart attack—a favor she did not return. Holy mother of all of my unholiest thoughts . . .
The sight of her there on the floor—that exquisite, heart-shaped ass and sweet, sweet pussy on display, the erotic arch of her back, her tits hanging low, nipples just barely off the floor, and those badass, shiny latex gloves against her pale skin—sucked all the breath from my lungs. The room glowed from the warm light of at least fifty candles, and to top off my hot fudge sundae of happiness, the aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies swirled in the air.
"Perfect," I said though I had intended to approach her in silence. So much for discipline.
She answered me softly, "I'm happy you're pleased."
I kicked off my flip-flops and walked to her slowly, savoring each delicious moment, drawing out the tension of the first touch. I bypassed her bare feet, grinning to myself as I remembered how ticklish she was. I bent to press my lips to the firm, sweet skin of her butt cheek, still warm and pink from the shower, and so, so soft.
She moaned softly, sending shockwaves straight to my dick. Yes, baby, show me how bad you want me.
I landed a soft tap on her right cheek, not enough to bounce her onto her face, just enough to feel the skin pop against my palm. The horny part of me would have mounted her right there, so damn inviting, but that was no way to reunite with the girl that owned your heart.
Or hell, maybe it was the perfect way . . . No, that was the penis talking.
"You are crazy beautiful, Bella."
A man would have to be made of stone not to respond to the sight of this goddess sprawled naked and open. I knelt beside her and slipped my hand between her legs. Oh, my girl was so, so wet. Fuck!
"You feel so good, baby . . . but it's time to get up." My dick and I had a plan for how this was supposed to go, and one more second of Bella on her knees was going to blow that plan to bits.
I helped her to her feet, making eye contact for the first time while she stretched out the kinks in her muscles. Six weeks was a long time to go without kissing Bella. I cupped her cheek and drew her to my lips. Her tongue slid across mine, and I felt the pull in my groin. It took all my willpower not to pull her naked body to mine.
I broke our kiss, trailing my finger down her slender neck. "I apologize in advance if I fall asleep right afterwards. Please don't take it personally."
"Shh, shh," she said, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "I'm here for whatever you need, baby. If you want to go lie down, we can—"
"Undress me, Bella."
Her eyes flared with understanding. Back on track. Bella knew how to take my clothes off. I didn't need to tell her to take her time—or to put those gloves all over me in the process. She slipped her hands under my T-shirt and crept up my belly like a vine. I held my breath when she reached my nipples, taking the liberty of pinching the tight knots as she glided over them. She knew how to use those gloves, too.
Goosebumps trailed after her touch, up my neck, along the sides of my face, over my scalp. She tossed the shirt away, and my arms dropped to my sides.
I caught the little quirk of her lips as she reached for the button of my shorts, the tips of her fingers curling over the waistband and nicking my pubic bone. My eyes drifted closed as she teased the zipper down one tooth at a time. She eased my shorts down, purposely avoiding any contact with the erection pressing on my briefs. But we were so close now . . .
I met her gaze, and she tipped her head, a question.
I placed my hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle push. Down.
She sank to her knees and waited. I held my arms out to the sides. Now.
She answered with a sultry dip of her chin. Fuck me. Demure was not Bella's usual style, but it was exactly what I wanted. With all the care of a musician taking her instrument out of its case, Bella hooked her thumbs around the waistband of my underwear and slid them down my thighs, my calves, and off my feet.
I drew my hand down her cheek and lifted her face to mine. "I want your mouth and your hands. Not too fast . . . but don't make me wait too long either."
She might have bit back a grin as she nodded.
"And I want to come on your tits." Where that came from, I had no idea. I didn't blame her for laughing. "Get to work, missy."
I twisted her ponytail around my fist and pulled her toward my groin. She braced herself with her palms against my thighs, the rubber gloves smooth and slippery against my skin as she closed her mouth over the tip of my cock.
Oh HELL yes!
My head swam with the mismatch of sensations. I watched her head bob over me. Probably a good thing I was too tired to swear. I'm not sure I could have stopped.
I just about lost it when she bent to take my balls in her mouth, working my shaft with those slippery fingers. And then her mouth was on me again, tongue swirling across my tip, fingers sliding toward my hole. And everything was everywhere, and I couldn't watch my tip poke-poke-poke through her latex fist because I was gonna lose it. I threw my head back, and . . . she squeezed my balls with that domme-y hand and whispered at me to breathe.
She waited till I calmed down and started the whole damn thing again. The pleasure mounted inside me faster this time, like Tetris pieces piling up too fast, and I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to, and I damn sure didn't want to. Next thing I knew, my beautiful, fucking perfect girlfriend was saying the magic words: "Paint me, baby!"
It all happened in slow-mo, like a porn movie I was watching with a strobe light. The squelch-squelch-squelch of flesh through the slick, black fist. The frantic thrust of my hips trying to keep up. The spectacular woman on her knees before me, who popped her spectacular mouth off my cock just in time to spray my seed all over her spectacular breasts.
This cannot be my life. My oxygen deprived brain couldn't quite work it out, how a dropout loser like me had ended up here, with a gorgeous, sexy, smart, powerful woman at my feet, her ponytail wrapped around my hand, her chest splattered with ribbons of my come, her face tipped up toward mine, wearing one of the biggest grins I had ever seen.
I gave that ponytail a light tug, coaxing her into my arms. We both chuckled when her chest met mine with a wet thwap.
"There's a towel over by the couch," she whispered.
"In a minute. First, I want to say thank you, Bella, for . . . blowing my mind."
She giggled. "Oh, is that what was in my mouth just now!"
"Um, speaking of mouths . . ."
"Yes?" Eyebrows cocked, waiting for my next command.
"Do I smell cookies?"
CougarCougarCougarCougarCougarCougarCougarCougar
I tried to give a mouse a cookie, but when I returned to the couch with two chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk, he was sound asleep with the towel clutched in his hand. Can't say he didn't warn me. Poor baby, he had to be completely exhausted.
I wanted to bring him to my bed, but I couldn't bear to disturb his sleep. Wriggling the towel out of his hand, I pulled the throw over his naked body where he lay and dropped a kiss on his forehead. The warm flicker of candlelight reflected the sheen on his golden skin. My beautiful boy.
"You blow my mind too, baby. Every damn day," I would have told him, had he been awake to finish the discussion. "And we're just getting started."
I brought my laptop over to the couch in case he woke. I still owed him eleven-plus hours of service. I hoped he'd be awake to cash in on some of that. I loved seeing how his mind worked, that fascinating push-pull of careful plans and good intentions in a head-on collision with lust and hunger, and let's face it, love.
Settling in at the opposite end of the couch so my screen wouldn't wake him, I logged into my online social media course. I'd signed up just a few days ago after helping Edward with his paper, and I was hoping to finish before we met Esme and Carlisle tomorrow. I wanted to surprise Edward at the same time.
Honestly, the whole thing was still a surprise to me. I guess it had been nagging at me for a while that there was probably more I was meant to do with my life than downward dogs and dirty martinis, but I'd gotten pretty good at ignoring it.
Maybe it was Carlisle who started me thinking: what was I doing with my life, post-Jacob, post-socialite lifestyle?
Or maybe it was Edward inspiring me to find my passion and apply myself.
It could've been Esme as much as the others. We'd gone for drinks—in Esme's case, one martini that knocked her on her ass—after seeing that matinee we'd promised each other, and she'd shared her story with me. A young wife who'd left her job as a social worker to take care of the baby now sprawled along my couch, who then found meaning in hospital-related volunteer work, which she was still doing to this day.
I used to love the quick-paced world of media, and the landscape had certainly changed since I last held down a job. It was exciting to get back into it and learn the lay of the land and see where I might find a spot for myself.
Edward stirred. I glanced over to find him regarding me with a sleepy smile. "Is it tomorrow yet?"
"Nope." I folded my laptop and set it out of the way.
"Good." He lifted the corner of the blanket and hooked his finger in a c'mere gesture I had no choice but to obey. His grin widened as I climbed under the blanket beside him. Curling his arm around me, he hummed and let out a contented sigh. "Much better."
I couldn't resist pushing my fingers through his hair. "Have I mentioned how proud I am of you?"
"I don't think I could have gotten through the last week without your help," he said.
"You never give yourself enough credit. You were just blowing off some steam. You would've buckled down soon enough."
"Maybe . . . but you have a way of bringing out the best in me." He pulled me into a soft, sweet kiss. When he leaned away, his expression was serious. "So, I have a confession."
He must have felt me tense. I made an effort to keep my voice even. "Oh?"
He threw his right arm up, tucking it behind his head, and gazed up at the ceiling. His pecs flexed as if he were posing, but I knew my cub—he was deep in thought and debating how much to share.
My eyes clicked to his left wrist—the rubber band was still there, his hand drawing lazy patterns along my arm. Okay, that ruled out the worst of it. I willed the words out of him. Trust me, baby.
After a deep breath in and out, Edward dipped his chin to meet my eyes. "I kind of panicked after I asked you to read my paper."
That made two of us, but he hadn't let on about any doubts at the time. "Really?"
"I was afraid you'd see me as some dumb kid."
"I don't . . . and you're not." I held his gaze until I knew he believed me. "So here's a funny thing—I was anxious about sending you my comments. I was afraid you'd think I was being too harsh and bitchy."
A soft chuckle thrummed through his chest. "You? Harsh and bitchy?"
I buried my blush in his side. Good god, how did he get this stuff out of me? He must've been some kind of voodoo priest in his former life. Or maybe an intelligence operative. But then, he flipped onto his side facing me, cupped my chin with his loving fingers, and made me meet his gaze.
"Bella, I love you for exactly who you are. There is nowhere on earth I would rather be right now than right here where I am, with you, naked, in my arms."
I waggled my gloved hand in front of his face. "Almost naked."
One eyebrow rose, taking with it the side of his mouth. "You sure you want to go there?"
Yes, I was sure. Never been surer of anything in my life. But of course, I didn't have Edward's ease with saying my feelings out loud the way he did . . . so I did what I do.
"That's entirely up to you," I said with a shrug. "Do with me what you will."
"Don't mind if I do," he said, rolling on top of me with a slow, lazy kiss. "I hope you won't think less of me if we do it boring, old missionary this one time."
I reached down and guided him inside me with the glove I now understood would be a staple in our sex life going forward. "'Less' is not the word that comes to mind right now."
He smirked, then dropped his face into the crook of my neck. Propped against the arm of the couch, I was able to watch his beautiful body move over mine in the flickering light. I lifted my hips for him, wrapped my legs around his waist, and pressed my heels into that sweet little ass of his as he thrust inside me with unhurried strokes.
"You feel so good," he whispered. He didn't need to ask if I was enjoying myself; my grunts and groans spoke for themselves.
His release came on a quiet sigh.
Eventually, our limbs untangled. He dropped a kiss on my neck as he pushed up onto his palms. He looked down at me with a sheepish grin. "Now I owe you two," he said, "but don't worry. We still have all night."
Except I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Hey, mister. Don't forget your cookies before you fall asleep this time."
His face lit up as he stretched for the cookies. He gave me the full-on eyes-rolling-back-in-his-head treatment after the first bite. "Dee-fucking-licious, Bella. Here, have a bite."
"No, thanks." I slid my hand over his taut belly. "They'll look much better on you."
He popped his eyebrows and slid his hand to my ass. "I don't know about that. I could use a little something to grab onto back here."
"Oh? Are you planning to grab onto me back there?"
"Yes." He popped the last bite of cookie into his mouth, licked his lips, and added, "Just as soon as I work up the energy."
I snuggled in under his shoulder and breathed him into my soul. Damn, it was good to have him back home. "Take your time, cub. I'm not going anywhere."
A/N: Thank you all for your patience! I know you waited a solid month for this chapter while I NaNo'd my novel. And now I can drop myself back into this story where we left off... oh so very near the end! I will have an epilogue for before we ring in 2020 together!
Much love and gratitude for your love and support and PATIENCE! Smooches to Chayasara for her loving guidance and modeling how to write constructive critique so Bella would be good at it!
XO
~BOH
