DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the intellectual property of the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
-Chapter Ten-
Forty-three days and counting until my birthday, and the kiss in Edward's car was constantly on my mind. It left me breathless and excited. It made me crave another one, but he was steadfast in making me wait. He was so coy about it, too. He would do little things to get me all fired up, to watch me squirm. An innocent touch here, a whisper in the ear there, and the cruelest thing was the day he kissed me on my collarbone.
He said it was allowed because we only agreed not to kiss on the lips, to which I replied, "Which lips?"
He then left the room and went straight to the bathroom for twenty minutes.
After that, the touches stopped altogether, and he tried to keep some distance from me. I kicked myself in the ass for saying anything to him. Next time I am keeping my damn mouth shut and letting the cruel bastard kiss me anywhere, he damn well pleases.
And so, like hell, the days went on and on with no end in sight.
On day seven, thirty-six days until my birthday, Edward taught me the basics of boosting cars. There was a trick he liked to use to check if a car had an alarm system. First, Edward would casually walk by and bump it with his hip. Then, if nothing happened, he would come back later to steal it. But, of course, over-eagerness gets you caught, and he forced me to say that three or four times.
Another thing he told me was to scout out cars at an upscale hotel or restaurant and pretend to be a parking attendant. He said that that was an easy boost, but it only worked half the time. Most places these days were beefing up their security. So he liked to stick to the old trusty: boosting cars in a parking garage.
"Now that's easy picking." And I quote.
The whole lesson lasted twenty minutes, and my hanger in the door was not suggested as an optimal technique. We sat close on the couch that day and brushed shoulders, but there was no kissing on my collarbone or anywhere else.
I was slowly losing my mind.
On day fifteen, twenty-eight days until my birthday, he took me out shooting again. He stood behind me, pressing his body into mine, and taught me the 'proper' way of firing a gun. His breath was on my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin, and his long fingers wrapped around my own. Again, there was no kissing, but I didn't complain. The feel of him was just enough. And when I felt him, like I really 'felt' him, he ended the session abruptly and ran to his car.
I will never know why he was torturing us like this on a stupid technicality.
On day twenty-four, nineteen days until my birthday, Edward went out of town with Emmett and Jasper. He didn't share all the details of this little trip with me, but he handed me a gun and told me to shoot anyone who walked through the door. As an extra precaution, he was sending over Alice. She was good with a shotgun.
He pulled me into his arms before he left and hugged me tightly. Then, he whispered into my ear and told me not to worry.
It was hard letting him walk out that door because, other than him being the only family I had now, he was my entire world. Everything revolved around him, and if, for some reason, he ceased to exist, I wouldn't know what to do.
It was a long three days.
On day twenty-seven, sixteen days until my birthday, I was sleeping in his bed. I tucked underneath my pillow the Custom Colt he left me, and my finger was lying on the trigger. I dreamed about Renee and the early days when we were a family, a time without Phil. It was a happy dream. So, when strong arms wrapped around me and soft lips on my shoulder woke me up, I didn't reach for the gun to shoot the unknown intruder. I smiled.
"You're back," I said, my voice hoarse and still groggy from sleep.
"How are you, kid?" he asked, kissing the back of my neck.
I closed my eyes and allowed him to kiss me. "I'm okay. I missed your stupid face, though."
He chuckled, pulling me tighter to him. "Yeah, me, too."
"So, how was the trip?" I asked, fighting the urge to flip over and attack him. But I didn't want to bring him back to his senses. He was breaking the rules, and I was more than willing to let him.
"Fucking horrible. I hated every minute. It was the first trip I couldn't wait to get home." His lips bordered the place under my ear, and he gave me more kisses along my neck.
"Yeah," I breathed.
God, he was killing me.
His hand was moving away from my stomach and up towards my side. He slowly slid it downward, gripping my hip and squeezing it. Then, he gently pushed his pelvis into me, and I could feel him pressed against my lower back.
I kept my damn mouth shut this time. I didn't want to ruin whatever this was.
"You smell so good," he groaned and inhaled in my hair. "What is that?"
"Um," I said, biting my bottom lip, trying hard to focus on his question and not his mouth on my ear or his hardness poking into me. All of it was distracting. "It's…shampoo, I think."
"No," he said, "That's not it. It's something else. It's something just entirely…you."
I gulped, unable to speak, but responded by pushing myself further into him.
"Mmmm," Edward hummed, moving his hand up and around my waist. He splayed his fingers across my stomach, slowly and agonizingly. He inched them closer and closer to the top hem of my pajama bottoms. I held my breath, and my body stiffened in anticipation, waiting and needing him to break that last barrier.
But then, like always, he stopped. He removed his hand and rolled away from me. It was the biggest tease and hugest letdown in my entire life. It frustrated me, and I wasn't going to let it slide.
He was getting off the bed when I flipped over, grasping a hold of the back of his jeans. He looked down at me, startled.
"You can't keep doing that to me, Edward. Either you're with me before my birthday or you're not."
He unhooked my fingers from his jeans and laid back down. We were facing each other, and he held my face in his hands, staring at me intently.
"I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. It's fucked up of me to rub my dick all over you and…it won't happen again."
I glared at him. "That's not what I want."
"I know," he said, kissing the tip of my nose.
He broke the deal for the millionth time, and I wondered why I was the only one holding my end of the bargain. If he could cheat and break the rules, why couldn't I?
No longer held to my word, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn't soft nor tender like the first time our lips met. Instead, it was forceful and heated. I wanted him so badly, and I refused to wait. However, more days it was. Two weeks?
Hell, it was close enough.
He sat frozen, unsure how to react to me, but he growled when I took his lip ring between my teeth and tugged on it. He grabbed my hips and dug his fingers into my skin. He rolled over on top of me and deepened the kiss. My mouth opened to his, and our tongues met for the first time. I arched my back, pressing my chest into his. He thrust into me with such force that it'd broken our kiss. When my lips sought him out, he was gone. His forehead rested on my shoulder, and we were both panting.
"More," I said, trying to pull his face back to mine.
"Baby, I can't."
His tone was so tortured and wanton, but I smiled at the fact that he called me 'baby' and not 'kid.' There was another time I recalled him calling me by such a name. During our first shooting lesson, I'd hit my face with the gun. I'd completely overlooked it then, but thinking back on it now, it was so telling of his feelings for me. One slip of the tongue had told me everything. But, unfortunately, I wasn't paying attention.
"Why can't you?" I asked, and he heaved a sigh. I quickly interrupted him before he had a chance to speak. "And please do not give me that underage bullshit. We both know that's not the reason."
He kept his face hidden in my hair, wrapping his arms around me and holding my body closer.
"Because you're the only person I give a flying fuck about in this piece of shit life, and I don't…" he murmured so low that I almost didn't hear him. "I don't want to do something to fuck that up."
"Why do you put me on this pedestal, Edward?" I asked, slipping my fingers into his hair and entangling them. "I'm not perfect as you seem to think I am. I'm damaged just like everyone else."
He shook his head, further burrowing it into my shoulder. "If I allow myself to just be with you—no holds barred—I'm scared that I'll hurt you…like crush you and pull a fucking Lennie."
My brows furrowed in confusion. "Lennie?"
He nodded.
"Like from the book Of Mice and Men?"
Edward shifted up on his elbows and smiled down at me. "You see, you fucking always know what I am talking about. What kid your age would've known about Lennie and that fucking puppy? That's what I fucking love about—" he stopped himself abruptly, glancing away from me. "Maybe Jazz was right."
I stared up at him, confused about his statement about Jasper but unable to fully process the 'L' word that slipped from his lips. Edward believed he was going to love me too much. That the weight of his passion for me was going to crush me? I hadn't decided if he was speaking literally or figuratively.
"Edward." I laughed, reaching up and smoothing out the troubled lines on his forehead. "Why are making things so complicated?"
"I don't know," he said, turning his gaze back to me. He lowered his lips, firmly pressing them to mine and giving me a brief kiss. It was over before I could respond, and he was burying his face in my hair again and muffling his voice. "I'm fighting a losing battle."
The solution was simple: "Stop fighting."
It was quiet for a long time, and I didn't know what he was thinking. Eventually, though, his breathing became shallow, and I knew he'd fallen asleep. So, I followed him, closing my eyes and wrapping my hands in his hair.
My dreams consisted of tattoos, lip rings, and lingering kisses.
When I awoke in the morning, he was no longer on top of me but at my side, drifting his fingers along my bare arm. I narrowed my eyes at him, confused to see his sudden demeanor change. He was staring down at me with a devious smirk.
"Good morning," he said. "Did you sleep well?"
I nodded slowly. "It was alright. How about you? Did you sleep okay?"
"Oh yeah, I slept like a fucking baby."
He was practically bouncing on the bed with excitement. I'd never seen him like this before, and I couldn't help but smile at him like a goon.
"I can tell." I laughed. "You look extra peppy this morning."
"I decided to say 'fuck it'."
"Fuck it?" I repeated, not sure what he meant.
"Yeah, fuck it." He rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip and placed his hand on my face. He bent his head down and whispered. "Me and you, baby, we're going to fuck this town up."
Then he kissed me hard.