Vampires Apparently Wear Pink, Too

Warning: some might find this somewhat offensive. If you are seriously offended when reading about various sexual activities and perhaps, perversions, ya might want to hit back on the browser. If you are not old enough to read or buy porn, stop here.

As Edward walked into the conference room, he was greeted with one of the most unexpected and disconcerting scenes he'd ever experienced in his days in the working world. In fact, it rivaled some of his worst lab-related nightmares – most of which now involved fires, thanks to Emmett's months-prior experimental ruination. But this, this was something bizarre and almost surreal, a Dali-esque, drug induced hallucination – not that he would know firsthand, naturally.

His nose twitched in distress as his gaze slid from corner to corner, taking in the visual. Every flat surface imaginable – and some not so flat – was now coated in bright, blinding pink. Edward ventured that there were at a minimum thirty different shades of the color, none of which, in his opinion, belonged in a professional Pharmacokinetics department conference room. He had no idea why this had been done, nor did he know who would have ordered such dreadful decorating.

Upon closer scrutiny, Edward concluded that there were only two potential culprits in the building. The first of which was obvious: Rosalie Hale, workplace decorator extraordinaire, expert in women's studies and literature – including the austere Redbook journal, which she'd pressed upon him during his engagement study – and, unquestionably, owner of disproportionately large tits. And a cat suit.

The second individual was a less obvious choice, but after short deliberation, Edward concluded that the overuse of the overly bright color was a dead giveaway. Only one person he knew could pick such atrocious coloring: Dr. Alice Brandon, boss, now only-occasional bitch and funding killer, and closeted party planner. Considering that the room had been a pleasant and unobtrusive beige this morning, he gandered that a tag team approach was probable. It took considerable effort to create this kind of Crayola princess nightmare.

"Hey, man, nice office," a voice drawled from behind him. "Ya'll sure like pink. You sure this isn't Avon?"

Spinning on his heel at the familiar tone, Edward started as he saw the figure of Dr. Jasper Whitlock approaching him. His hair was a regular ruckus, sticking out at incredible angles. As usual, his clothes looked like something pulled from the racks of a thrift mart. Does the man not own an iron? Edward wanted to ask, attempting to contain a scowl at the deep-set wrinkles in his attire.

"We don't employ Astrophysicists… especially ones from MIT. We find them to be antiquated in their theories and overburdened with inflated senses of self," Edward grinned and countered without missing a beat. "Why are you here?"

"Well, fuck, nice to see you, too," Jasper chuckled, extending his hand.

Recalling Jasper's less than hygienic tendencies, Edward blanched and made a show of adjusting his tie to politely avoid contact. "Agh, um, well, yes. Nice to see you, as well. But why-"

"Alice," Jasper commented as if by way of single-word explanation. With a nonchalant sweep of his hand, he continued, "She said I needed to be here. And here I am."

Edward smirked, noting the odd reddish tint of his friend's complexion. He dared to guess that Dr. Jasper Whitlock was… embarrassed, something Edward had not seen before. Though, he didn't really understand his unease. Edward simply assumed that Dr. Brandon wished to be taken out for a late lunch. She certainly seemed the type – high-strung and demanding – to expect luncheons and such. On occasion, he almost felt sorry for his friend. Dr. Alice Brandon, as he well knew, was a handful, and despite her now almost exclusively friendly overtures, she still scared the shit out of him.

"Well, why?" he pressed, wanting to verify his theory.

"Edward?" Jasper replied, cocking his brow, clearly amused. "You do know what all this pink shit is, right?"

"Ah, um, not really," Edward confessed, once again looking over the décor in confusion. "What that has to do with you, I haven't a clue. But really, why would someone do this? It's… pink," he continued, waving his hand in exasperation. "I can't even turn on the projector! It has bows on it. And the docking station is completely covered in that… whatever the fuck that gauzy stuff is. And the board! Where do I write? I have a meeting in twenty-seven minutes. This is ridiculous."

Women make no sense! Why would Dr. Brandon do this?

"Man, you are so fucked."

"What?" Edward clamored. "What are you talking about?"

"Your meeting is your shower."

What? Edward wondered, utterly oblivious. I most certainly already showered thank you very fucking much. You, on the other hand… that's questionable.

"Erm, huh? Shower?"

Jasper threw his head back and roared in laughter. Slapping him on the back, he managed, "The baby shower. You know, for that baby of yours? You know, the one that's due in like a month?"

"Thirty-six days," he answered automatically. Checking his watch, he added, "And just under eight hours."

~O.o~

Precisely thirty-four minutes later, in an ear-piercingly high-pitched soprano, Dr. Brandon shrieked, "Open this one! And then this one! Oh my God, Bella!"

The woman was literally leaping across the room in fits of infant-induced excitation. During such leaps, Edward could not help but notice the way her hair lifted and fell with her enthusiasm, almost as if it were a hat of sorts. With spikes – very pointy ones at that. He wondered at the volume of styling product required to routinely create four-inch spears of hair. Between her and Dr. Whitlock, Vidal Sassoon would likely stay in business for years, he concluded.

Where Edward had recently considered the pink room to be disconcerting, it was now simultaneously frightening and tremendously fascinating. It was distressing in that there were too many overly excited women bouncing around and squealing in some feminine language that he did not seem to be able to follow. They were cooing and sighing over the strangest of items and gestures. His lack of comprehension was bothersome.

At the same time, it was captivating to observe. These women – all coworkers, most of whom were principle scientific investigators such as himself – were behaving so very differently in terms of demeanor and behavior as opposed to their norm. Instead of cool, professional composure, they were loud, laughing, and animated. And they were clapping just like Bella's mother had done. And squealing. Yes, it was all extraordinarily absorbing to study. Edward ventured that the whole experience was much like visiting a zoo or a game preserve, a place where one could observe other species in alternative native habitats.

And appropriately enough, at least one of them, Edward thought, clamping his lips to hold back his own eruption of laughter, bites. Hard.

Naturally, with that thought, a barrage of less-than-work-suitable images and sounds flitted through his consciousness. From his positioning, he had a perfect view of Bella, and her tits looked… edible in the v-necked blouse she wore. He immediately imagined burying his face in her cleavage and sucking her always-pert nipples. And perhaps biting them… just a little. Her nipples were remarkably sensitive in her hormonal state. As they had discovered, with the proper level of squeezing, nipping, and hard suckling, she could come from nipple stimulation alone. And that made him feel like a fucking sex god. And said sex god wanted to bend her down on all fours and plow into her.

Fucking stop it, Edward, he chastised, noting the hot pang of want in his lower abdomen. Later... Tonight… Definitely tonight. But fuck, she wore that shirt on purpose. Goddamnit. Temptress… fucking devil temptress.

Fortunately, men were uncommon accessories at such infant soirees, so he, Jasper, Emmett, and Jacob fucking Black were allowed to settle into a back corner of the pink room away from the cooing and incomprehensible peals of girlish delight. Overall, minus Jacob Black's incessant chatter and random backhanded compliments, it was an excellent vantage to collect more data – not to mention stare at his fiancée's chest. One day, he hoped to understand the mental processes of the female gender. Judging by the complexities he'd observed thus far, it would likely be a lifelong endeavor.

"Dude!" Emmett bellowed, slapping him on the back. "I can't fucking believe it. I mean, Swan? Fucking A, Edward. I gotta know how you pulled that shit."

"What?" Edward replied, startled by the sudden manly contact to his shoulder. What is with all the slapping? Edward wanted to yell. Is greeting violence some sort of man code that I've missed? First, Jasper, and now Emmett! Dr. McCarty clearly worked out, too. The sting across his skin was evidence of that. While he was fine smarting and a little bruising by Bella's hand during their sexual adventures, this was different.

Nervous under the attention, Edward made a show of removing his glasses and pretending to clean them with the small cloth he always carried. It was a common diversionary tactic amongst the lens-clad.

"Swan. Dude, you not only banged Swan, you fucking knocked her ass up! That shit is AWESOME. Dude, I knew you weren't just some straight-up virgin dork. I saw right through that shit. You must be slinging some serious dick behind that smart face of yours. Or you are rich. Either works."

Slinging dick? Is that a real phrase?

"Ah, Emmett?" Edward answered, quickly formulating his retort. He did not want to even approach Emmett's comments concerning the size of his endowment – financial or non. While Emmett was often unintentionally hilarious in his vibes and banter, he was, more often than not, very inappropriate at the worst possible junctures. There was no predicting where Emmett would go were he to mistakenly discuss male size. Likely Dr. McCarty would want to compare, which frankly, Edward would no doubt fare well. But still, not appropriate.

Trying to maintain a straight face, he crinkled his nose and squinted at the clock on the wall. Seriously, in an almost lecturing tone, he remarked, "Dr. McCarty, the depth of your knowledge of female anatomy, especially when I consider your particular area of research, is more than slightly disturbing. Quite frankly, I'm stunned."

Make sense of that, Dr. Dude.

Emmett's brow furrowed in concentration, while silently, Edward giggled in glee. Edward assumed a torrent of 'dude's' would follow.

In a confused tone, Emmett asked, "What? What the fuck are you talking about, Lestan. Are you trying to say that I don't know about women?

"Dude, I know women like I know my own cock. Maybe even better." His eyes narrowed and he went on with an entirely too mischievous grin, "Just ask Rosie over there. She's never complained once about what I'm packing. But then, with our special kind of relationship, that would do nothing but result in her ass being reddened. Which she'd probably be all for… she's always up for a little punishment… prelude to the fucking, if you know what I mean. You should see what I can do with a cane." His brows were wagging to the point of being cartoonish, and his face had settled into a rather devious and disquieting leer.

As before, the concept of 'too much information' was a lost cause on Emmett.

Across the round table, Edward smirked at Jasper's wheezy snickering. While Dr. Whitlock sounded as though he were coughing up a ball of cotton, at least one other person at the table caught his attempt at humor. Well, and he was perhaps choking over Emmett's lack of boundaries as well. Perchance, Edward considered, Astrophysicists – even slovenly, lazy ones such as Dr. Whitlock – were more intelligent than he'd initially assumed.

No, likely not, Edward decided with a shudder, recalling the most unfortunate and more than dangerous episode during their undergraduate career when Dr. Whitlock had snuck into one of the chemistry labs in the old P.M. Gross building to perform a highly dangerous purification extraction on tetrahydrocannabinol [14]. He'd nearly blown up the entire laboratory. Had Edward not been there to douse the fire, he would have succeeded. They were both quite fortunate that the damage was minor and that they both had been fast runners.

No, it was a good thing that Dr. Whitlock's experiments in his professorial role were simply piddling theoretical exercises on paper. His lab skills left much to be desired. It was a shame that Emmett had not gone into the same field of study. Dr. McCarty would have made a fine Astrophysicist.

"Fuck, Emmett," Jasper finally answered, snickering even louder when Emmett wrenched his head sideways. He looked remarkably like a Labrador retriever. "Edward is referring to your comment about impregnating a woman's ass."

"Jasper Dale Whitlock! I heard that!" a voice screeched from across the room. The pitch was nearly ear-splitting and the volume was sufficient to require double hearing protection.

"Ah-dah, um, sorry?" Jasper hastily called back. Amusingly, Edward noticed that Jasper's complexion had soured and his eyes were wide with fear. Clearly, Dr. Whitlock had lost his masculinity and was now pussy-whipped. Edward was far too polite to call him out for such a discomfiture. It wasn't as though he could claim much more in the way of manliness. His cock and balls could just as well be stored in Bella's handbag. Which would truthfully be fine.

"Pussy," Jacob Black's annoying voice cut in, his entire body shaking with silent laughter. His steroid-enlarged chest muscles jiggled distractingly with his body's movement. Edward gave a quick sideways glance to the man next to him, not particularly wanting to make eye contact, but the bouncing man-tits – or as he called them, pectorals – were too much to ignore as they were nearly as large as Ms. Hale's. But not attractive in any way, shape, or form. It was unnatural. And he was a man. Maybe.

Despite his multiple victories over his co-worker, Edward was still not pleased that he had to deal with Jacob fucking Black on a routine basis, despite saving his ass months prior. He was smarmy, too confident of his barely mediocre skills, and just as he'd done in graduate school, he smooth-talked his way with management. Or rather, he tried.

As God or gods seemed to be favoring Edward these days, however, at least two female members of the management team saw directly through his spray-on tan and glow-in-the-dark white teeth. And in what was possibly one of the most entertaining peer recognition ceremonies he'd ever attended, Dr. Swan's secretary had openly and loudly threatened to castrate him. Edward still wasn't sure what exactly was said, but Dr. Black had scurried away from Ms. Hale white-faced and trembling, his tail firmly tucked between his legs. Edward was exceedingly grateful that Rosalie Hale seemed to favor him. How hers and Emmett's special relationship worked was dumbfounding; if he were forced to consider or speculate, Edward would have assumed Emmett to be the one wearing the collar. Intriguing. Although, I'm certainly not one to question others' kinkery. In fact… no, never mind. Let's not go there, Edward…

"Shut up," Jasper grumbled. His tone was gruff and petulant, but low. He was mortified but seemingly far more frightened of causing a scene in the presence of Dr. Brandon. In Edward's opinion, the entire situation was grandly comical, but he smartly kept his mouth shut. Incurring Dr. Brandon's wrath was not worth the hilarity.

"Fuck, Jay-cob," Emmett guffawed, smacking his meaty paw on the table. "You are calling Jasper a pussy? Everyone is jumps when Brandon yells. You would, too, if you had any brain. How'd you graduate from Hopkins anyway?" Very good question, Emmett, Edward wanted to comment. Laughing, Emmett went on, "Jasper's a brave man to tap that shit – no offense Jasper, but you know what I'm talking about."

Edward and Dr. Whitlock nodded solemnly in agreement. By Edward's assessment, Jasper was indeed a brave man. And Edward was grateful for that bravery, as he was the one reaping the rewards. Dr. Brandon was a far kinder manager when she was getting laid with predictable frequency. Orgasms were obviously the key to world peace.

Emmett snorted and wagged his preposterous eyebrows again. "And seriously? You are really going there? After what I caught that black-haired technician of yours – you know, the one with all the industrial piercings and scary-ass tattoos… what's her name? Leah? – doing to you the other day? I mean, she's got a nice rack and an even nicer ass. But damn! Scary bitch. I think we all know who wears the dick in that relationship!"

At this revelation, Edward's bottom lip dropped and his head spun as he began imagining the debauchery to which Emmett alluded. A stream of highly unsettling visuals skittered across his vision, most of which were stomach-turning. Carefully, Edward peeked over to where a shapely, dark-haired woman, decorated by an abundance of painful-looking metal bars and rings, sat giggling and laughing with the other women in the lab. Oddly, this somewhat frightening woman held up a tiny, ruffled – and obviously pink – suit of sorts. The petite outfit did not look very comfortable. Edward hoped Bella would not force such things upon their child. But either way, the superimposition of images of sexual depravity and pink ruffles was incongruous, to say the least.

But really, Edward did not want to know more in the way of details of Dr. Black's clearly kinky fuckery, especially seeing as how the data would be from Emmett's brain and mouth. But, the allure of more general knowledge was simply too much to pass up considering the various humiliations he'd undergone since graduate school by Dr. Black's hand. Briefly, Edward recognized that men were quite possibly worse gossips than women. And scientists appeared to be, as a whole, a very perverted subculture. Their lab alone gave witness to that.

"Wait, what was this?" Edward blurted too loudly, unable to resist the bloom of elation as he watched Dr. Black tinting green again.

~O.o~

"Dr. Cullen," Rosalie Hale greeted politely. Almost warmly. She even flashed him a small smile.

While slightly wary, Edward could not help but think how fortunate indeed that Dr. Swan's secretary seemed to approve of him as a suitor for her boss! For Edward understood that women were often quite defensive and protective of their friends with regard to male partners. More than once had he heard of relationships being completely decimated because of a lack of female friend approval. Admittedly, he did not really understand the whys and wherefores of such behavior, especially considering the lack of blood relation. But Edward had long since resigned such conduct as distinctly gender-related, and as such, the chances of him fully comprehending were slim to none. Women were exceptionally complex entities! More than once, Edward had contemplated just how lucky he was in that Bella, as far as the gender went, was relatively straightforward. Of course, she could be nearly unfathomable at times herself.

"Agh, erm, Ms. Hale?" Edward stammered. Despite her acceptance, she was still more than intimidating. Like every other woman on the planet, Edward noted with a grimace. Knowing some of her and Emmett's late-night proclivities did not really help as far as conversation went. And too, he hoped that she would not turn on him and attack him as she had Dr. Black.

Ms. Hale smirked and twitched her bright pink lips. Her lips were very puffy, perhaps even swollen. Likely from a round with Dr. McCarty, he concluded, as it had not escaped Edward's notice that both had suspiciously disappeared shortly after the shower. Purely objectively, Edward ventured that her lips could be described as excellent cock sucking lips. Not on Bella's level, of course, not by any means, but they were full and soft and well-shaped.

"Yes, Dr. Cullen? Looking for Dr. Swan, I presume?"

Edward raked a hand through his hair and crinkled his forehead. "Um, yes? Please? If she is available, of course. I-, um, well, if she is busy or in a meeting, it can wait. I realize that she is very busy, preparing for her leave and whatnot. And her normal managerial duties… I really can't imagine… I, well, I-, I can just come back? Yes, I can go."

"How are you?" Ms. Hale asked, still smiling.

What? What does she mean? Why is she asking me this? Should there be something wrong? What do I say? he argued mutely.

"Pardon me?" Edward managed, trying not to fidget in place.

"How are you? Surely, this is all quite stressful for you. Emmett would be hyperventilating if he were in your shoes."

"He's not the only one," Edward mumbled without thinking. He'd done more than a fair share of hyperventilating, as well as projectile vomiting. And there would likely be a fuckload more as the delivery date drew near. The idea of caring for another living creature was entirely horrifying. If he allowed himself any amount of time to consider it, he'd plunge headlong into a spiral of panic and nausea. Bella had assured him that they would be fine, but he still had enough doubts in his parenting capabilities to fill the space of a small country. Edward Cullen was not parent material. He knew that, but he'd vowed to do his damnedest to become it simply because Bella expected it of him.

"You will be a wonderful father, you know that, right? Bella's told me about some of the wonderful gestures you've done for her," Ms. Hale soothed, apparently detecting his incredulity and disbelief. Obviously, he'd done a poor job of hiding his fidgets and twitches.

"Ah, um, thank you? I hope so? Wait, what has she said? No, never mind. I don't want to know… or maybe.

"But God, I do. Want to be a good father, that is. I-, erm, it's just very… new? Unexpected? And well, you are responsible for the health, happiness, and general well-being of another person! That's a lot to take on, you know. And well, let's be frank, I've not even had a dog or a cat. But I have studied the matter quite a bit, so I understand… the mechanics. Yes, I have several texts on the subject and I'm an avid reader. That's what I do, you see. It's not that different from my normal… erm, profession. But still, I am sure there is so much missing there… which makes me very nervous. But Bella, erm, Dr. Swan, she will be a superb mother. She's… perfect."

Ms. Hale's left brow shot up, clearly entertained by his fit of word regurgitation – it seemed as though any time the baby was brought up in conversation, his mind turned to mush and he suffered from a severe lack of brain filtering.

Abruptly, she threw her head back and laughed. "Perfect, eh?"

Edward looked askance and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to make sense of her comment. Surely, she was joking. Her tone did not indicate jest, but it wasn't entirely serious either. What the fuck does she mean? Women are impossible!

"Well, yes, she is," he answered, entirely serious. "Why on earth would you say not?"

"If you say so. It's a little hard to believe you can say that seeing as how you worked for her not long ago. Some would… disagree. Dr. Swan can be just a touch… demanding of those who work for her. But seeing as how you two always had a special understanding, I can see where you might not see that."

Something about her comment lit a spark of some mix of skepticism and curiosity. For the moment, he could ignore her mistaken assumption that people might disagree and believe that Bella was difficult – What is with people and their alarming misconceptions lately! Dr. Swan is easily the finest supervisor in the company. She isn't meddling, and as long as one does his job, she is nothing but helpful! Never mind that. But what did Ms. Hale mean by 'special understanding'?

Edward cleared his throat and mumbled, "Erm, would you mind elaborating? Please?"

"About?"

"Ah, yes, well, that part about a special understanding. I didn't quite, um, catch that."

Ms. Hale's eyes glittered in delight. "You really don't know, do you?"

No, obviously not! Why would I ask if I already knew this secret?

Attempting a friendly, conversational smile, he attempted casual, but… failed miserably. "Ahm, clearly that would not be the case. Hence my, er, request. I'm rather perplexed."

More like going fucking crazy right now!

Her lips parted and she shook her head, whether it was in denial or as a negative, Edward wasn't sure. And of course, now his curiosity was furiously raging. Nervously, he pushed his glasses up and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from wringing them. "Please?"

With a grin, Ms. Hale answered, apparently enjoying her position of knowledge. "Let's just say that you aren't the only one who has been head over heels since… like… day one."

Edward's eye widened, not quite processing her words, but detecting warmth behind them. This data was worth at least a month's paycheck, perhaps more. Bribery was always an option if she would not willingly provide this information.

"Dr. Cullen?" a voice purred pure sex from the other side of the room. "You're looking for me?"

Fuck. Not now. Well, yes, now. But I need to find out what the hell Ms. Hale is talking about. What does she mean 'You don't know, do you?' And then this whole 'special understanding' and 'day one'… I don't understand! I need to know this! This is important! But… fuck.

When his head swiveled to meet the intruding voice, those thoughts scattered and scurried to the back of his mind for later consideration. In the forefront was the worrying need to contain his sudden urge to push his now-fiancée against the wall and fuck her and claim her all over again. Because her beauty went straight to his dick and scrambled his brain. It was frustrating how easily he was distracted. Bella Swan was quite possibly the devil. I am marrying the devil, he giggled.

Bella's hair was wrapped up into some variety of an upswept knot, and thus, he could see the long span of her neck. His fingers curled just imagining loosing her hair and wrapping it around his wrist, possibly while fucking her from behind. Like a rein. She always loved that. And when she loved things, invariably, he loved them as well. Such was the way of their happy world.

Without fail, his gaze quickly slid to the edge of her v-necked silk blouse, a rather complex piece of material with an above-the-waist tie that had been stylized to accommodate her growing stomach. Tangentially, he noted that clothing designers were simply genius because the contraption flattered all of her curves. She was voluptuous and fucking sex on legs. Just at the edge of the dark navy material, he could see the pale white edge of her scar, that very first mark he'd made at her behest, and his pants were straight away too tight. He needed to escape into her office before Ms. Hale noticed his reaction.

"Ah, um, thank you, Ms. Hale," Edward stuttered. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation later?"

Definitely fucking later, he resolved. I must know this secret!

"Perhaps," Ms. Hale chuckled. But he really couldn't bother trying to discern her expression or tone, as his eyes were still greedily roaming Bella's face. Her dark russet eyes were dancing with entertainment. For a split second, he wondered how much Bella had heard of Ms. Hale's and his conversation. That would potentially be thwarting if she decided to forbid Ms. Hale from speaking about the topic.

Either way, he couldn't find it in him to care because two minutes later, his mouth was clamped to Bella's and she was backed against the wood panels of her locked office door. And like that, his dick was straining against his zipper and rubbing against her thigh, rudely begging to come out and play. Cock-raising devil!

"Jesus, you are so fucking sexy. Is it wrong that I want you right now? God, I want you, Bella," he gasped against her lips, as her hand snaked down to his waistband and glided across his painful bulge. He reached around behind her and gripped her ass, kneading and squeezing through the black fabric of her skirt.

While Edward had little first-hand experience with pregnancies – other than with Bella's, obviously – he ventured that she had fared remarkably well, physically speaking. Other than the rounded distension of her abdomen and her marvelously enlarged tits – he hoped they would stay that way – she showed very few outward signs of her state. Bella mistakenly argued that she was puffy and bloated all over. But he knew her body better than she did. She was not 'puffy'. Her ass was still perfectly shaped, a sensual upside-down heart that fit precisely in his palms. And her thighs were slender and shapely, muscled just so, but very feminine and more than inviting. Their softness and shape could send him into cock hysterics. Because having those thighs wrapped around his waist, or better yet, his head, was sublime. He could live between her legs, he thought. In fact, a visit to his favorite locale right now seemed like a good choice.

"Can't right now," she exhaled. "Meeting… in ten minutes… fuck, Edward," she moaned softly as his hands trailed down said luscious thighs and began lifting the bottom of her skirt.

"Skip it," he murmured. "I want to lick your pussy. Dr. Swan, I really want to lick your pussy. Right fucking now. Let me, baby. I want to taste you so fucking much."

A long, frustrated groan answered him, and her nipples looked like they might be ready to burst through silk. "Stop, Edward… God, I want you. But fucking Caius will kill me…if I miss. Tonight, please, God… please tonight."

"Maybe," he teased, stopping abruptly and pulling away. While personally, he wanted nothing more than for her to skip her meeting so that they could both could be provided some form of relief, the last thing he wanted was to cause additional stress for her. And Dr. Caius was a motherfucking prick who already gave her enough hell. But then, Dr. Caius's entire purpose in life was to make others' more stressful. Edward hoped he would elect to retire soon. Very soon. He was as old as Methuselah anyway. But likely, his wife wouldn't allow him to retire else she'd murder him. Not that I would blame her.

"You are killing me, Dr. Cullen. Very, very bad influence."

"I try," he chuckled. Leaning in and grazing her ear lobe with his lips, he whispered, "Fine. Tonight I will make you scream my name. As many times as you can handle."

"Ass," she breathed.

"Well, I could take you there, too, if that's what you really want," he bantered with a wink. "In fact, I'm all for that game."

"Dr. Cullen," Bella chastised, shaking her finger in reprimand.

"On a more serious and less fun note…" she continued with a smile. Her voice was still breathy, he realized. That he could leave her breathless and wanting was a mammoth stroke to his ego. "Would you mind taking these boxes home when you go? Maybe put them in the nursery?"

In the corner of her office was a head-high stack of boxes from her shower. Or their shower as Bella preferred to deem it. In Edward's summation, showers were not for men, but he would not risk her ire. The stack was a daunting pile, full of various sundries, disturbingly, all in pink or lavender. It looked some sickening cross between Cinderella and Hello Kitty and Pepto Bismol – a color he'd never forget after his one-time coupling with Irina during undergraduate. Edward still did not understand the female fascination with these wretched colors. They were dizzying and just… no. The baby supplies he'd purchased were far easier on the eyes and rather classy.

"Ah, um, Bella?" he started, hesitating. "Do we really, um, need all this?"

Bella eyed him with a curious expression. Her tone was equally curious. "Yes and no, Edward. Do you not approve? Did you see the car seat that Dr. Brandon gave us? It was a very generous gift. And… colorful. See?"

The car seat in question was likely the most appalling item he'd ever seen. Yes, Dr. Brandon had, indeed, been in charge of decorating the conference room. The seat was almost neon pink, bedecked with neon purple and chartreuse trim and polka dots, and it had some sort of clanking bells and clapping rings on the sides. Despite its likely designer pedigree, taking into account its source, it was… frightening to say the least.

"Um, we don't really need that, Bella," he whispered, flinching. Just imagining such an item in his car was upsetting.

"Yes, we do," she said with a short laugh. "They are required by law. But if you don't like this one, we can find another."

Fuck.

Edward had yet to divulge his shopping excursions, fearing that she would be angry with him for not including her. His mother had mentioned something about women wanting to pick out baby items. But by the time he'd discussed the matter with her, he'd already filled an entire closet with supplies.

It was possible that he had gone overboard with his purchases… but he'd been very careful and selective with his acquisitions, researching each item in excruciating detail and depth. He'd spent many hours in Target and other stores… even one titled Babies R Us. He never could determine why they purposefully chose to misspell their company name. Regardless, it was a useful store with quite a variety of items. And on top of his in-person shopping affairs, Edward had special ordered the more important items when he couldn't find what he wanted. Custom built and ordered even.

"Agh, um, we, perhaps already have one?" Fretfully, he loosened his tie. This was not really the place he'd imagined exposing his late-night shopping guilt.

Bella cocked her head to the side. "Edward?"

It was very hot in her office. Small beads of sweat littered his forehead in evidence. "Fuck, well, um, I sort of already bought a few things? Like maybe the car seat?"

"Explain."

Bella's tone was indiscernible. He wasn't sure if she was angry, pleased, or ambivalent. But her hand rested on her hip, and that was never a good indication. As such, he was terrified.

Taking a breath, he looked everywhere but at her and rushed a disjointed explanation. "You see, well, remember that time you had that lengthy meeting that Friday? With Dr. Caius and Dr. Aro? The offsite one? I, maybe, well, actually, I went to Target…. you know, the store. Did you know that Target has an entire section devoted to baby supplies? I did not know this. Needless to say, I was surprised. I had no idea! It was fascinating!"

He dared a glance and found Bella's lips pursed sharply.

Fuck. She's pissed. I'd be pissed. Maybe. Sort of? Fuckity, fuckity fuck! Fucking idiot!

"Well, I just found some things? And I asked some people there to help me? And, I, well… I wanted to buy the baby some things. For the baby. Like I said. Don't be angry, Bella, please? I can take it all back? I just didn't want you to have to deal with all the stress… and it made me feel… useful? And involved. Like I was being helpful. Perhaps it was even… fun. Rest assured, per my usual, I researched these things and made sure that the baby would have only the best provisions. I wanted that, you see. It's very important for her to have what she needs. And… well, yes."

Bella's eyes softened and looked perhaps wet. Goddamnit, she's going to cry. I made her cry. And that thought sent him to the edge of panic.

Before he had the chance to drop to his knees in supplication, she murmured, her voice soft and tender, "You bought baby supplies? On your own? And you went to Target? Alone?"

A bit more confidently, he answered, "Erm, yes? A few times since that first expedition. And I-, I, ordered some things, too. Like the car seat. I studied that for a while because car seats are very, very important, you see. Of course you know this… but for safety and such. Well, the seats at the stores, yes, they meet basic requirements for highway safety, but I found them to be very… uncomfortable. The plastic is hard, poorly shaped, and there is so little padding… And I couldn't imagine allowing my-, erm, our baby being forced to sit in one… so, um, I ordered one, custom. And it's much, much preferable to, er, this one. I requested the very thickest and plushest padding. And the fabric has been treated to resist stains because I surmised that babies are messy."

With the last admission, he blanched, visualizing milk and squishy, beige baby food being flung in the cabin of the car. This baby would likely require him to go back to his anxiety medication. With quick note, he added another box of baby wipes to his mental list. He wondered if baby wipes were available by the pallet.

With a broad smile, Bella closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. "What else did you find?"

Her expression was incomprehensible, but he wasn't about to question it. She was virtually glowing. And she's not angry!

Grinning, he spilled his list. "Ah, um, several things? I actually bought two car seats? One for each car, of course. And well, matching strollers and carriers and a high chair. I surmised that you would want such things to all match. I read where that was desirable. The stroller is quite innovative. It has oversized wheels for ease of movement, a mechanically superior emergency brake – which I was adamant about being included – and multiple compartments. And it folds, um, rather compactly for transportation. And it's sturdy. Best in its class, of course. For the baby."

"And?"

"Well, and some other things?" Edward rushed, his excitement building. Now that she didn't appear to be displeased, he couldn't wait to show her his finds when they made it home. "Maybe some jangling toy things that I'm truthfully not entirely sure what they are. But they were all very well rated in the texts I researched, and a few women helped me? One is an odd-looking mobile that you are, um, supposed to hang over the crib? It plays Chopin." He beamed, already knowing that his child would be very well educated in classical music and theory. That was a given.

"But we can, erm, take it all back if you want. Like I said. If you hate it, that is." He hoped that Bella would at least want the car seats. They were truly the best available. They were the safest, the most comfortable, and they were not ugly. Well, and they couldn't really be sent back since he'd had them custom upholstered.

"What colors?" she laughed. "I'm guessing not pink."

"Ah, um, well, mostly neutral colors… I, well, thought… if maybe we were to have another… it would… um, fuck." Edward wasn't quite sure how to tell her that he was already considering… more. They'd not broached that subject, and truly, he'd reflected on the matter only in passing. But the idea of a family with a brother or sister for their first was… appealing. If he could survive this one.

As luck would have it, he didn't have a chance to finish before he felt her lips plaster themselves to his. Almost lost in the wet smacking of their lips and tongues, he heard her whisper, "I love you, Edward. So much."

Dumbstruck by her unexpectedly favorable response, he merely uttered, "You're sure you aren't angry with me? I should have asked you first and let you pick things out, too. Mom told me this was important… I didn't know? I'm sorry?"

"Dr. Cullen, stop being ridiculous. I don't suppose you already ordered the crib, did you?" she laughed and grinned against his lips.

When he didn't answer, instead, stiffening in her arms, she pulled away and asked again. "You did, didn't you?"

"Ah, um… maybe? It's a very nice one. And safe."

~O.o~

"How was your day, Dr. Swan?" Edward murmured against her bare shoulder.

His tongue traced a long, wet and wending line from the top of her upper arm to that special, soft spot of skin at the juncture of her neck and ear, pausing briefly and gently sucking on the barely visible mark of his teeth. She tasted divine, sweet with just a hint of salt from a day of work. She squirmed underneath his mouth, and her soft moan went directly from her mouth to his cock.

"Long," she breathed, as she reached up and over her head and threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth back down on her skin.

Curling his frame more tightly around hers, Edward reached around and palmed her now-swollen tits. Gently, he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, unsure of how sensitive she would be today. Early on, it hadn't been an issue, he recalled with a smile. It wasn't until these last few weeks when the hormones had kicked in once again that her needs varied so much. Some days, she wanted his dick hard and fast and as rough as he would allow. Yet others – like today, he knew without even asking – she wanted it slow and sensual, a new and interesting change for them with regards to pacing.

Surprisingly, slow and sensual made him want to come even faster, and it took considerable restraint on his part to not fuck her into oblivion. Edward assumed that the reaction was simply due to the anticipation of each movement, or perhaps just the sensation of feeling every single inch of her skin gliding around him so painfully slowly. It made her seem even tighter, especially when she squeezed her thighs together. That particular move was deliciously torturous, and therefore, it held a welcome place in their sexual repertoire. This, they would most assuredly continue after the baby was born. Every fucking day, if Edward had it his way. And as his luck would have it, probably Bella would agree. He hoped the baby wouldn't be as much of a cockblocker as Emmett had warned. Like he'd know anyway.

Edward could not understand those who abstained from fucking during pregnancy. Some of their escapades over these last few months had been mind-bendingly erotic, not to mention, exceptionally frequent. And she was always so needy and wet. And so fucking horny! How could I deny her? Why the fuck would I? he often laughed, still not quite convinced her deserved this bliss on top of everything else. It was icing on the cake, so to speak. Very, very lickable icing.

"Long, Dr. Swan? How so?" he pressed as he ran the tip of his tongue along the outer shell of her earlobe. He could not believe how fortunate he was that she wasn't angry over his shopping. Even the crib and baby furniture! But then, he'd taken special care to observe what styles she preferred by noting which pages in magazines she'd dog-eared.

He simply had the style she seemed to prefer built from more sturdy wood. Well, and more importantly, he had the furniture maker use baby-friendly staining and clear-coating chemicals. Edward had watched the news and seen the recalls and warnings. The potential for lead and other toxins in baby toys and whatnot had scared him far too much to risk purchasing the crib without knowing its origin. He didn't tell Bella that, however; there was no sense in alarming her over something that he took care of anyway. But if anything, his involvement made her even hornier than usual. If that were even possible! Edward was slightly annoyed with himself in that he'd waited so long to admit his deception. He's suffered the mental anguish for nothing!

With a shift of his hips, he ground his now-rock-hard cock into her soft flesh of her ass. "Tell me why. Tell me what made it so long."

"Edward," she whined, closing her eyes and lolling her head back against his shoulder. He was struck momentarily by the intimacy of their positioning. Both on their sides, covered by a thin sheet, his body wrapped around hers like two conjoined puzzle pieces. Tenderly, he ran his fingertips down her arms, to her waist, tracing over the contour of her stomach, now more than just a small beach ball, down to her hips, to her thighs. A sharp tug to his scalp alerted him that his ministrations were proving very effective.

"Did you miss me?" he whispered. As she tried to answer, he nipped along her shoulder, pebbling her skin and sending shockwaves of lust down through his midsection. When he heard her breathing turn to panting, he bit down and sucked, knowing there would be a small, purplish bruise left behind.

Bella gasped running her hands from his hair down to the back of his neck. "I-, I just saw… you… earlier… today… before my… meet-… Fuck!"

"That's not an answer to my question. Of course you saw me. I was in the same room with you all afternoon during your shower-soiree. And then some afterward… But did you miss me?" he teased biting her shoulder again as his fingers walked along her lower abdomen.

"Maybe," she hedged. "Did-, did you miss… me?"

"I always miss you, Dr. Swan," he answered sincerely as he dipped his hand between her thighs. "Always."

"Let me make you feel good," he pleaded, gently spreading her legs. "Let me make you come, Bella."

He wanted to see her mouth open and hear her scream his name. He wanted to see her completely fall apart. Nothing in heaven and hell could match that image. On the rare occasion he was forced to resort to self-gratification – usually when that fucker Dr. Caius called his ludicrously scheduled Friday meetings – that was the image to which he pumped his cock.

"Please, God," Bella groaned, pushing her backside more firmly against his now throbbing cock.

"Fuck, you are wet," Edward mumbled, sliding his fingers along her slit. "Always so fucking wet for me."

When he pulled his fingers away, she whimpered at the loss of contact, but when he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth and licked away her arousal, she moaned and bucked her ass against him.

"You like watching me taste you?"

"More," she begged, a note of desperation in her tone.

"More what?" he asked innocently. His fingers darted back down to her pussy, where he proceeded to do very non-innocent things.

"Come," she panted as he circled her clit. "I want to come."

"My fingers or my cock?" he breathed.

A low, needy keen rumbled through her back and into his chest, and her hips swiveled against him. Glancing over her shoulder, he watched, mesmerized as her chest heaved. Her nipples were a delicious dark pink and so fucking hard. He couldn't wait until she could reinsert her nipple rings. Just the memory of how they disappeared into her flesh made his cock jump.

Pulling her clit between two fingers, he squeezed, knowing it would send her into a frenzy. "Tell me, Dr. Swan. Tell me how to make you come. Tell me what you want inside of you."

"Cock, Edward," Bella stammered, her eyes clenched shut. Her skin was already coated in a light sheen of sweat and her thighs clamped down on his hand. "Christ, I need you inside me. Please, Edward."

Edward wasn't stupid. Quite the contrary. He had what was probably the sexiest creature on earth gloriously naked, writhing against him, and begging for his cock. There was no need for any more convincing on his part. And too, he couldn't deny that if he didn't orgasm in short order, he would be in pain for hours.

Grinning like the Cheshire cat, in a single fluid motion, he pulled her knee up into the crook of his elbow, spreading her delicious thighs, and sheathed himself, not stopping until his hips were pressed firmly into her backside.

"Oh, fuck, Bella," he groaned, feeling her pussy walls flex and constrict around him. Her hand reached for the hand that held her leg and her fingers tightly threaded between his. She was so soft and supple and so fucking hot. With every cell in him, Edward wanted to bury himself inside of her and never leave. This, the physical and emotional sensations that she somehow pulled out of him, were staggering.

"There, right there," she panted, rolling her hips as he began a slow, rhythmic motion. In this position, undoubtedly, his cock hit that small target that always resulted in her experiencing mind-blowing orgasms. With every stroke, he could feel her body already quaking.

"Goddamnit," he huffed when she clenched her muscles, nearly halting his movements altogether. "Fuck, Bella, so good. Do you feel how hard I am? What you do to me?"

"Edward," she moaned, just at the precipice. "Slow. Go slow… not yet. Can't stand it if you… don't slow down."

He stilled inside of her, pausing, understanding that she wanted to draw her orgasm out. Releasing her leg, he brought his hand up to the back of her neck, pushing her damp hair out of the way. Gently he pressed his fingers into the tense muscles of her neck, kneading, while he kissed between her shoulder blades.

"I love you, Edward… God, I love you," she groaned when she felt the flat of his tongue on her back. "Christ, how… do you do this to me? Fucking love you…"

Edward grinned again. Never in his life had he felt this full, this complete. Every single time those words spilled from her lips, his heart thumped a disorderly, arrhythmic cadence. His breath caught and momentarily he had to fight a salty sting in his eyes.

Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he pulled her body as close to his as possible. His hips rocked slowly in and out, and he grunted in time, "Love… you… so… goddamned much… It hurts how… much… I love… you. You can't leave me…. ever."

"Never… God, oh… Edward…" Bella moaned, articulation lost.

In that moment, his brain filter failed him for what had to have been the umpteenth time since he'd met Dr. Isabella Swan. Why his subconscious chose this moment to appear and make him ask again, he didn't know. She had already said yes, but they'd yet to set a date, only saying after the baby was born. But he wanted her wearing his name more than anything else in the entire world. Edward ventured that he'd gladly give up every accomplishment, every accolade, every professional achievement for this one thing. He didn't want to wait.

"Marry… me… Bella… please," he whispered. A twinge of fear shot down his spine, and he couldn't keep it from his voice. Likely, he'd beg if need be.

She tensed around his cock, her nails dug into his forearms, and she gasped. "Already… am… Yes… God, yes…. Always yes…"

His hips rocked deeper into her and he begged, "No… I can't wait… I don't… want… to… wait. Want you… now." Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he continued, trying to physically coax out her answer. "Before the… baby's… born… Marry me before… please…"

He could feel her orgasm rapidly mounting. Goosebumps littered her flesh, and he could feel hard, rolling tremors pulsing and echoing up and down her spine.

"Ple-," he started again, pressing his lips to her neck, sucking again on his mark.

"Yes, Edward… yes… Anything… Yes, This weekend, tomorrow, now… Yes, I'll marry you. Want you… more… than anything…" she screamed, her pussy walls suddenly locking down around his cock, gripping him like a silken vice. Her body stretched and her back arched under the strain of her climax. She was fucking beautiful. And his!

"Oh, fuck, Bella," he exhaled, thrusting his hips hard, burying himself as deeply as their positioning would allow. Feeling her lose control and hearing her answer yes to his every want pushed him quickly to climax. With a handful of quick pumps, stabs of heat shot through his abdomen, directly to his balls and cock, and he nearly lost his sight from the force of his orgasm.

Once sight and coherency returned, Edward sluggishly pulled the sheet around them and nuzzled into her hair, placing gentle, reverential kisses down her neck and back.

"Why didn't you tell me? I didn't want to pressure you… You were already so stressed. You really want to… so soon? When?" Bella asked, breaking their comfortable silence.

"Tomorrow? Today? I would have married you the second you first said yes… or before," he mumbled, drifting his palm to her stomach. Beneath his outstretched hand, he felt a slight bump. Smiling, Edward laughed, "See, the baby agrees."

Bella twisted in his arms, turning her head and capturing his mouth with hers. Without pause, he opened his mouth and kissed her hard, twining his tongue with hers.

Minutes later, Bella settled back against him. "Do you think they will care?"

"Erm, what? Who?" he asked, running his fingers along her shoulder and arm. Her still-damp skin shivered from his tickling contact.

Bella laughed, "Everyone. Your parents, mine, friends…"

Truthfully and candidly, Edward didn't give a damn about anyone else. But vaguely, he understood that marriages and weddings and such were important events for many women and families, and thusly, he momentarily second-guessed his cajoling. Not enough, however, to retract.

"We can do, er, I don't know, have another ceremony for everyone else? If you want? I only care about one person… well, actually two since the baby is well, a person… and she kind of, well, is there, with you, I mean… And I guess three, counting me… " Edward fumbled. His forefinger found his lip and tapped in silent thinking. "And the officiant… well, and I suppose witnesses, as I believe they are required in the state of New Jersey. So, that makes, I suppose, six."

"I really don't care about them, Edward," she laughed. And of course, his cock twitched from her body's shaking.

Really? Again? Now? And what did she say?

"Wait, what?" Edward queried, lifting his brows in confusion.

"I just want you, too. Haven't you figured that out by now? I've always wanted you.

"Plus, I think there will be another wedding coming up pretty soon. A dress has already been picked out. So, I think we can get away with a quick trip to the courthouse."

Edward's nose wrinkled and he pursed his lips, trying to read her expression. "Huh? Who's getting married?"

With a blinding grin, Bella giggled, "I take it Dr. Whitlock was too chicken shit to tell you guys this afternoon, huh? Alice is going to flay him alive. He was supposed to ask you and Emmett a very important question."

"Erm, tell us what?"

Before Bella had a chance to respond, realization dawned and his eyes widened. For once, Dr. Jacob fucking Black was right.

"That pussy."

[14] Um, that'd be THC… if you smoke up/have smoked/know someone who has smoked/watched a stoner flick/or even have taken HS Health Ed, you will know this… that'd be the primary intoxicant in marijuana. Ahem. Don't do drugs, kids.