Chapter Seven—Date Night II
Edward purposely found a parking spot a block away from the Italian bistro where he made reservations. The walk would give them time to talk and maybe do a little window-shopping. The area was filled with restaurants, shops, and cafes. He was curious what kind of shopper Isabella was. If she were anything like his mother or Maria, he'd have to wonder about her motives.
Was it a test? If she insisted on getting something, it didn't mean she'd ask him to get it for her. What if she did? The past and who he was made him cautious; he had to be. In the end, it didn't matter because she focused solely on him and not the dozens of shops as they walked toward the restaurant hand in hand.
Shortly before reaching their destination, she bumped his shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts?"
He couldn't help the way his lips tipped up in one corner, teasing her.
She groaned. "I walked right into that one, but something tells me you're not thinking about what I'm wearing underneath my dress."
It was his turn to groan. "Now I am." Edward made it a point to adjust himself, making her laugh. "Honesty? Is that what you really want to hear?"
Isabella nodded, her brow tightening a bit. "As much as you're willing to give me now. I don't need to know all your secrets or your entire life story in one night, Edward. We have time to do that."
Time was something they didn't have, Edward realized. The deadline to find a wife was drawing near, and though he knew he could ask his father for an extension, a part of Edward wanted to move forward. He hadn't felt like that once in the last few months.
"All right." Edward looked up, noticing they had reached the bistro. "Had this been a date with someone back home, we would be in one of the stores buying 'a little something' for my date."
She laughed, a full on, throw her head back laugh. "I can buy my own shit, Edward. I would never endure you to even an hour of shopping. It's torture for me." She playfully shuddered. "I can't imagine what it would be like for you."
Edward bumped her shoulder, smiling down at her. He pulled her closer, his hands on her hips. "Now that I think about it, shopping with you might be fun. Waiting for you to try something on; watching you strut out of the changing room in a gorgeous new dress."
She snorted. "If I take you shopping with me, it wouldn't be for a new dress." She gave him a moment for that to sink in, brushing her fingers down his chest.
Edward almost swallowed his tongue at her suggestion. He looked down the street of shops, noticing the small lingerie boutique a few doors down. His fingers dug into her hips, and his half-hard dick solidified between them.
"Jesus," he breathed, his lips on her hair to keep from mauling her. "You sure know how to get a man's blood pumping."
"You mean pumping south," she teased, her fingers brushing his waistband.
Edward captured her wandering hand and led her inside the bistro—before he did something he wouldn't regret.
Her laughter and triumphant smile only made him harder.
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Dinner was nothing like what Edward was used to back home. Isabella's enthusiasm for food made it borderline foreplay. She'd moan and lick her sweet lips whenever she enjoyed the taste of something. It drove him insane, but he indulged in every morsel she fed him from the tips of her fingers or at the end of a fork.
She talked animatedly, waving her hands around, but not to the point where others would notice. It was clear in their conversations about their childhoods and school that family was important to her. She had intended to head to college for computer science, but in the end, found her niche in her father's construction business. She had an architect's eye and worked mostly on the electrical crew, where the majority of her expertise lay.
"I've dominated the conversation." Isabella rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I usually don't do that." Her fingers curled around the stem of her wineglass, moving them up and down it slowly.
Edward couldn't take his eyes off her. The warm glow of candlelight cast her in muted light and shadows, adding a sliver of mystery to her. One moment, she appeared like a woman with a glow of want and desire. The next, she seemed like a woman lost in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to strike. It was a heady combination, and Edward wanted to explore both sides.
Explore every inch of her.
Isabella's mouth tipped up into a smile, a knowing look in her eyes. "You still look hungry, Edward."
Edward leaned a little closer, caught up in her scent. "You have no idea."
She finished her glass of wine, licking her lips. "I may have some idea."
If she only knew how much restraint it took him not to place her on the table, ravish every inch of her, and then sink inside her, she wouldn't look so satisfied. Then again, Isabella had the habit of surprising him at every turn.
"I need something stronger than wine." She scooted her chair a tad closer and kissed Edward's cheek. "Before I do something like crawl onto your lap."
Edward held up his hand, catching their waiter's eye. "Check please."
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After dinner, they walked arm in arm through a heavily touristy area to window shop. Passing the lingerie boutique Isabella hinted at earlier.
"Too bad it's closed," she teased him. Her eyes focused on something in a deep purple, practically see-through. "Maybe one day we can come back."
Edward couldn't help teasing back. "Are you fishing for a second date already?"
She pushed away from him, laughing. "I don't need to fish. I already know I have you hook, line, and sinker." She crooked her finger at him, reeling him in for a kiss.
It wasn't a hard, quick kiss like the one by her car earlier, it was slower, an exploration. Her lips were soft under his, tasting of mint and wine. He learned their shape, his tongue sliding over each curve, allowing her to do the same to his mouth. It didn't last long enough.
They pulled away at the same time, neither surprised by the intensity between them, but relieved, too.
"I promised a night of dancing." Edward led her across the street to the one of the clubs. The place was packed with people, a line having formed while they were at dinner. He went straight up to the bouncer, spoke in a quiet whisper, handing him a couple bills.
Once inside, they walked over to the bar. Edward knew he'd have to drive them home, so he decided he'd stop after one more drink, and burn off the alcohol while dancing. It was a Salsa night, and it meant a lot of people drunk on tequila and dry humping on the dance floor.
"I picked the perfect dress for tonight." Isabella shimmied her hips, then whispered in Edward's ear that she wanted to do a shot off him. From the look in her eyes, she was daring him.
He ordered their shots, slipping a lemon wedge between his teeth, waiting for what she'd do next.
She didn't disappoint. Her fingers worked loose a few of his buttons on his shirt, their tips brushing along his shoulder. She stood up from her barstool, pressing a small kiss on his jawline, just under his ear, and continuing until the sensitive area where his neck and shoulder met. The first touch of her warm tongue on his skin made him hiss, his dick hardening and threatening to punch a hole in his pants. His hand gripped her hip hard, wanting to pull her onto his lap and rip his pants open.
Edward felt her sprinkling the salt on his skin, his hands tightening around her hip, his teeth biting the lemon wedge between his lips. The second brush of her tongue made his eyes roll, the tips of her fingers sliding up his hardened cock.
He watched through hooded eyes as she threw back the shot, coming up to her toes to suck on the lemon wedge, only for a second, before she tossed it aside and kissed him. Her fingers tugged on his hair as his arms wound around her. The taste of tequila lingered on her tongue, capturing her moan of pleasure.
The torture continued through a couple more shots, each lick, sip, and suck as hot as the one before it. Edward couldn't stand it any longer, he had to get her on the dance floor, burn off the alcohol and lust that had him nearly drunk.
He tugged her to the middle of the floor, glaring at any asshole who tried to stop them and ask her for a dance. One look from him sent them across the room. He had mastered the "if looks could kill" stare over the years, and it seemed to intensify in Isabella's presence.
Isabella pulled him around, one of her hands on his shoulder. "Let's see you dance, Edward. Show me what you got."
Edward chuckled, not at all surprised by her challenge. He pulled her closer, their bodies not even an inch apart. His hands slid down her arms, relishing the small shiver moving through her. He draped each of her arms over his shoulders, encouraging her hands around the back of his neck.
Every inch of her body was pressed against his. "You might want to hold on."
She moaned, her fingers curling into his hair.
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"This dress is lethal." He nipped at her lips, enjoying the way her hips moved in his hands. Cursing at the bite of her nails on his shoulder, his lips slipped down her neck, exploring a couple stars. Music strummed through his blood, and with two hours of nonstop salsa dancing, of sensual touches and provocative moves, his hands exploring her body, it had left him hard and wanting.
The way she moved was just as deadly. She was a fucking master, and though he held his own, she helped him let loose. His moves became more sensual; all because she had him wrapped around her little finger. Her fingers traced his cock while they danced, fueling him more. His hands remained mostly on her ass, something she encouraged by guiding them there the first time.
She led the way off the dance floor. "Come on." Isabella fell into a chair Edward pulled out for her. She held up her hand, fanning it toward her face as fast as she could.
"I need to add two more miles to my morning jog to keep up with your stamina." She pushed her shoulder against his arm, but remained leaning on him. "I shouldn't stroke your enormous ego."
Edward's lips slipped into a smile. "Well, you were stroking my enormous…"
She placed her hand over his mouth. "Give me a couple minutes to catch my breath so we can have one more dance, then we should head back home." She rose, gesturing toward the bathroom.
"So soon?"
Isabella groaned. "Edward, don't look at me like that."
She brushed her thumb along his bottom lip, making him hard again; though, he had been for hours. "I have to check in with my father. And I have to be up by three to get the bread in the oven."
"All right." He looked at another table, recognizing one of his security members. Riley, Edward believed was his name, made a phone sign with his hand. Edward cursed, realizing his father had likely been trying to get hold of him. He had turned off his cell phone, wanting no interruptions.
"Excuse me for moment; I need to check in with my family." He kissed Isabella's hand, noticing the thin sheen of sweat along her neck and chest. She looked damn tempting. Her lashes fluttered as his tongue swept along the inside of her wrist. "Then I'll have the last dance."
"Yes, please."
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Edward watched as Isabella searched for him, returning from the ladies' room. He stood in the middle of the dance floor, feeling lost somehow.
She had him eating out of the palm of her hand, and he'd only known her for days. He wanted to take her somewhere, taste her, have her, fucking eat her alive.
Emmett had warned him not to jump into bed with Isabella, not if he wanted something more than a few sweaty hours between the sheets. Yet, the yearning he had for her, seemed to control every aspect his mind and body. The fact he might need to leave Seattle soon, made the desire ignite.
His father wanted him home if the problem with Alec Rossi was not resolved soon. Another girl from one of their clubs had been found, barely alive, and currently taken in by his mother. The unspeakable acts Alec had done to her, made Edward's stomach churn, and filled his imagination with horrific images.
Alec could easily go after his mother or his cousins. If things continued to go well, Isabella could become a target, if Alec found out how much she already meant to Edward. His family never dealt with the business of selling people. His mother had been a victim at age fourteen, and his father had saved her, taking her after he realized she was being held against her will.
Isabella spotted him, licking her lips when she did. Her hand lifted to her hair, sending the waves moving, stirring the air with her scent. She stalked toward him, moving to the same beat of the music around them. Her hands gathered the fabric of her dress, shifting and gliding it over her hips and thighs, dancing until she was within arm's reach.
Then some asshole tried to step in behind her, grabbing her hip and waist, as if he had every right to, which he did not.
Edward had always tried to maintain control, in every situation. It was a whole other matter when someone touched his Isabella without her permission. Then again, if she'd given it, he'd likely rip the man's arms off anyway.
As if she sensed his anger, she shook her head when he stepped toward her. She quickly shifted around until she faced the man, who she seemed to recognize.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Mike?" She placed a hand on his chest, sending him a few steps back with her push.
Mike? The same persistent asshole who bought her car.
"Claiming what you owe me." The slurred words were as sloppy as the state of his ill-fitting suit. The asshole wasn't getting the message, putting his hands on Isabella's hips again.
Edward kept his dark gaze on the man, a war within him. He knew better than to draw attention to himself—especially, anything that could garner interest by the local media. But, the man had seconds, before he lost all his fucking limbs.
"Is there a problem, Isabella?"
Already growing attuned to her, Edward heard her soft reply. "There's no problem, love."
Edward took notice of the distinct edge in her voice, watching as she pulled her stalker closer. One of her hands curled around the back of his neck, the other gliding up his arm. She whispered in Mike's ear, his bloodshot, blue eyes widening at whatever she said.
The fucker was scared now, and for good reason.
Her knee came up so fast, Edward almost missed the move. Mike doubled over, his hands falling to his crotch. His alcoholic breath whooshed out of him, and Edward had a mere second to act as the idiot vomited profusely.
Edward grabbed Isabella's waist, swinging her away. He heard her groan of disgust, followed by her giggling. Two men suddenly flanked Mike, helping him to his feet.
Isabella's hands held onto Edward, as he steadied her.
"I was never yours, and I'll never be yours. Consider yourself warned, Mike."
Edward didn't wait for the responses of Mike and his friends, taking Isabella's hand and leading her away from the chaos. If he didn't leave, he'd likely kill the asshole without giving a fuck about the consequences. He caught the eye of Riley as he passed the table of the security team. With a simple gesture of his head, he ordered Riley to take care of Mike.
They'd rough him up a bit, and go as far as get any background information on him. If it was clear Mike would keep coming after Isabella, he was a dead man. Period.
Adrenaline spiked Edward's blood, sending every sense into overdrive. The feel of Isabella's hand in his, to her rich laughter, and the scent of her perfume, combined with the conflict in his mind, all added to a sense of urgency inside him. Edward tugged her into an alleyway once they were outside, pushing her against the wall.
Her arms draped over his shoulders, her fingers curling into his hair. "You're a fucking amazing dancer, Edward."
His thigh slid between her legs. "Fucking hell." He rested his forehead on hers, groaning when he felt how hot she felt along his thigh. "You just kicked some guy in the nuts and that's what you're focusing on?"
She giggled, a sweeter sound. And fuck, if it didn't make him hard and desperate for her.
"I'm trying not to focus on the fact you let me take care of myself. Thank you, by the way."
"Thank you, but why don't you want to focus on that?" He was going to regret asking.
"I'd get on my knees and suck on your cock."
Where was the sweet woman who gave him shit for parking in a handicap zone and defended the old couple? She was fierce, passionate, when he'd seen her stand up to her employee and him. Now, she was sex incarnate. The perfect fucking blend; everything he was looking for in a woman.
She was the type that would be loyal, and money would never be enough to betray family. Though they were just getting to know each other, he knew it would be easy to fall for the woman in his arms.
"I knew you could handle yourself." He brushed his lips along her cheek. "But I wanted to rip his fucking hands off for touching you."
She moaned, grinding her pussy against his thigh. "Edward, please touch me."
If he did, he'd fuck her yards from the busy street. What happened to savoring? What happened to not jumping into bed with her on the first date?
"Fuck, Bella." She was unraveling him. "I'm trying to do this right, but if we don't leave now, I'm going to fuck you right here."
"God, yes." She nipped at his ear, her voice a raspy whisper. "What are you doing to me?"
Edward had to be strong, if he had any chance in hell of making things work with her. "Taking you home, where I'll kiss you good night and leave."
She pulled back, her head hitting the rough stucco wall behind her. Light flicked across her eyes, her breath labored, and sweat still gleamed on her skin, calling to him.
One corner of her lips tilted higher than the other. "I should warn you."
"Of what?"
Her hands slipped off his shoulders, sliding down his chest, but not before her short fingernails scraped against his sensitive nipples.
"Christ, Isabella."
"After dancing, nearly fucking on the dance floor, all the adrenaline running through me after kicking Mike's ass, and watching you handle my car, I'll be taking matters into my own hands." She walked away, a hypnotic sway in her hips and a knowing smile on her lips.
Edward had to clear his throat and make an adjustment before joining her. "Dangerous fucking woman."
AN: Thanks to MC for all your help with the chapter. I'm facing a dilemma. I'm currently working on the next two chapters, and this question is for those that have read the one shot version, do you want to see the month between Bella's return from her trip and before all hell breaks loose? I seriously have no idea what to do. At the time when I wrote the one shot, the time jump made sense, my word count was limited. Now, I'm facing a choice. LOL Let me know. Thanks!
