Enjoy.
Chapter 14: Stealing Time
Edward smirked; amused by my balked expression to the place he'd brought me to for dinner tonight. Even in my semi-expensive dress, I felt out of place; I was definitely out of my element and I could have only imagined what it cost to eat at a place like this. I'd started to protest but he gently laid his fingers against my lips, cutting me off.
"I never promised that I wouldn't take you some place nice tonight," he grinned wickedly in response to my eye roll, effectively causing my breathing to hitch. "I told you, I wanted to take you out properly." Then he leaned in to me, bringing his lips to my ear, whispering low and sensually. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to have worn that pretty dress," he said dropping his voice to a deep breathy growl that shot through me and made my lungs pull in the air disjointedly, "for nothing."
His tone of voice instantly had my mind replaying what had transpired between us in my hotel room earlier.
"Bella, I—." Edward began to protest in a low voice, when he caught onto my intended destination and intentions, halting us from our progress toward the bed.
I cut off his protest with my lips.
He tried again, "Bella I meant what I said; no expectations. Not just with staying with me tonight, but now. You don't have to—"
"It's not that," I insisted—because it wasn't—shaking my head. How could I make him understand? "It's— Edward, I need you," I breathed, surprising myself with the confession I'd made aloud, and even more so, that I hadn't one twinge of regret about the declaration. "I just need you," I whimpered again, feeling almost relieved with confessing it again. I stared up into his piercing green eyes, pleading for him to understand just how much I needed him and I wasn't acting out of obligation; my days of obligatory sex were distant, fading memories.
He stared back intently into my eyes, as I watched his brew another war—that familiar battle in his eyes that I still didn't know what the opposing sides were that had been staked. But just as quickly as I caught the turmoil there, it dissipated. His eyes softened and he swallowed hard. He slid his hand to the back of my head, slipping his fingers through my hair and running his finger along my jaw with the other, before kissing me tenderly.
"You're making it very difficult for me to be a gentleman," he accused in a heady voice. His prurience filled eyes flickered with light amusement before he kissed me passionately and lowered me to the bed.
If what he had done to me was un-gentlemanly, well then I didn't want him to be a gentleman.
The memory effectively solicited a soft moan to escape my lips. Edward's keen ears heard the light sound and I watched his eyes darken with desire in response, making me want to take his hand and drag him back to bed that very moment.
My weak willpower was saved by the man who called our attention to follow him to our table.
When we were seated—in an attempt to hold my ground against the putty I seemed to turn into when Edward was near me—I stubbornly made sure he knew that I thought, regardless of wanting to take me out, it was still unnecessary for him to waste this kind of money on me.
Edward's eyes flashed hard for a moment angrily, and then he shook his head, "Bella, I can think of nothing better to spend money on than on something for you. It would be a waste," he said throwing the word I'd used, back at me, "to not take you out and treat you properly. Not to mention it would be unforgivable for me to behave in such a way—especially since I'm failing miserably at doing this correctly in other areas."
He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. He held his hardened expression, but the anger was gone and a playful look danced in his eyes, causing flashes of fantastic, lascivious memories to greet me once again.
A shiver of heat flashed across my skin.
"Are you saying you regret it?" I challenged boldly, but felt my confidence in the question drop out from under me the moment the words passed through my lips. I was suddenly unsure. Maybe he had regretted sleeping with me.
My chest tightened painfully as I held my expression, trying to hide my uncertainty.
"No, not even if I live for an eternity," he said with conviction, then took a breath and continued, "but the fact remains that you deserve better than that, and I'm determined to make it right." His voice was determined and almost authoritative, as if closing the subject. I hoped fervently that he didn't plan to make it right by not about touching me again tonight because I knew if he did that, I would probably burst into flames.
After we'd gotten our drinks and ordered our food, Edward pulled out his phone that had sounded with a message. He laughed and shook his head.
"Sorry. It's Emmett," he explained typing back a reply. "He says to tell you, 'hi'" he said and then added under his breath, "...in his own, Emmett way."
"What do you mean, 'in his own Emmett way'?"
"Nothing," he breathed a laugh.
I would have pressed it, but the mention Emmett reminded me of something more pressing that I'd wanted to ask Edward.
"Edward?"
"Hmm?" he asked looking up from his phone with those heart-stopping, green eyes of his.
It took me a second to catch my breath and remember what I wanted to say.
Holy crow. I was having trouble remembering my name.
Question. I had a question. I closed my eyes to regain linear thought.
Right.
"What's a spinner?"
He laughed loudly. "So that's why you didn't object to Emmett's nickname for you."
I blushed, embarrassed by my ignorance.
Edward stopped laughing, noticing my blush. His expression turned wantonly; making me blush deeper and bite my lip.
"You drive me crazy when you do that, you know," he accused.
I looked at him confused. "Blush?"
"Bite your lip," he clarified and then added, "but yeah, that too."
He smiled at my obvious discomfort with the compliments, watching my blood stained cheeks continue to fire with his warm scrutiny, as if lost in thought. It was a long enough pause that I began to wonder if I needed to repeat my question, but then debated if I really wanted to remind him of my ignorance or just drop it.
"A spinner refers to a small, fine-framed woman," he said breaking the silence, keeping his eyes trained on me, watching my reaction.
Well that wasn't so bad. Why would he think I would have objected to that?
Edward smiled at my confusion that had to have been written all over my face. His smile turned into a smirk and then, watching me carefully as if anticipating my reaction to what he was about to say, added, "It's a sexual term."
Wait. What?
Edward breathed a laugh, amused by my increasing confusion and explained more thoroughly, "It's a term for a woman who's essentially so small and light, a guy could in effect pick her up and spin her around to different positions in bed without breaking the, uh, connection."
"Oh."
Oh!
My face went up in flames, blushing deeper than I've ever recalled blushing before. I lowered my head; I was so mortified at my naivety.
Oh my God.
"What did you think spinner meant?" he asked curiously, unable to hide a wide smile, enjoying my obvious embarrassment far too much.
"I had absolutely no clue," I shrugged trying to will my body to stop flushing.
"None whatsoever?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as if not quite believing that I could have had no idea, despite my transparent honesty.
I shook my head. Edward had no idea what a sheltered sexual life I had led.
"I wondered," I explained, "if the term meant I was short or small with the way he used it and wanted to know if that was right or not, but there never seemed an opening to ask. I didn't have any objections to the name itself and I heard Emmett tell you it wasn't a bad thing, so it didn't seem like something I needed to be concerned about."
"I can ask Emmett to start addressing you with your name," Edward offered.
"No, that's alright," I said.
"You're still okay with it even now that you know what he means by it?" Edward asked, surprised.
"I can't explain it right; coming from anyone else, I probably would be creeped out by the name knowing what it technically means. But coming from Emmett, it seems… fitting."
Edward raised an eyebrow at me.
"I told you I couldn't explain it right," I said frustrated with myself for not being able to find the right words and tried again. "I just don't think Emmett means anything by it, I get the feeling that to him, a spinner is just as benign a thing to call me as calling your sister—what was it?—a pixie? Emmett seems the kind to give people nicknames. Besides I figure, there are worse things he could have called me."
Edward laughed in amusement. "Well, you seem to have his personality pretty well pegged." He took a drink, and a mischievous look crossed his face. "Would you have been 'creeped out' if I had been the one to call you a spinner?"
"I don't know. I can't picture you deciding to call me that," I replied.
He smiled, but I couldn't read what the smile could have meant, then his eyebrows pushed together and he asked, "Is your full name Bella or is it short for something?"
I smiled with mirth. "Bella is short for Isabella—Isabella Marie Swan. But I don't like being called Isabella," I crinkled my nose in distaste of the name. "I've insisted on being called Bella since I was young. Only my mom still calls me Isabella sometimes, other than that, most people only know me by Bella. Why?"
"Curiosity. We were discussing names," he explained simply, but I had the feeling there was something beneath the question, though something told me I wouldn't get the answer out of him.
Dinner flowed in a similar fashion with light, easy conversation, making me almost forget that tomorrow by this time we'd be more than a thousand miles apart and I'd be a distant memory to him, at best.
Almost.
Who was I kidding? The thought loomed over every moment like a creeping shadow that I was trying desperately to pretend wasn't there.
"Shall we?" Edward asked as he signed the bill with a flourish, grinning up at me.
"Where are we going?" I asked taking the last swallow from my glass, hoping fervently that we were going back to Edward's room. I didn't want to share any more time I had with him. I knew I was being selfish, but I wanted every last moment to myself, before I had to let him go.
"I was thinking maybe we could go dancing. There's this really great—"
"No dancing," I insisted, cutting him off, horrified at the prospect.
"Why not?" he chuckled, pushing his eyebrows together in curious amusement at how adamant I was about the topic.
I don't want you to see me fall flat on my face.
"I don't dance," I replied simply hoping he'd drop it.
He quirked an eyebrow at me quizzically sensing there was more to it than just that. "Hmmm, I bet I could get you to dance," he challenged playfully.
"Not a good idea."
He laughed. "Alright. No dancing. Where would you like to go instead?"
"I'm not really in the mood to go out," I admitted. "Would you mind if we just went back to the room?"
"You are completely insatiable," he accused, sounding serious, but his eyes flickered with humor. It almost looked like he liked the idea that I couldn't get enough of him.
"No," I protested a bit too quickly. "I just don't feel like being around a lot of people. Maybe you could play for me again?" I asked hopefully. "I really loved listening to you play, you know."
Edward visibly fought against a playful smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Mmm-hmm. We both know where my playing for you got us last time. Nice try, Bella."
I rolled my eyes. That wasn't fair.
While it was true that my body was already tingling on edge from the fact that we'd just sat all through our meal, across the table from one another, close enough to touch but never did; it wasn't like I was trying to lure him back to the room just to get him into bed.
Floozy Bella snorted at me, as if telling me to sell shit somewhere else.
Okay, so it wasn't like I hadn't been sitting through the entire meal imagining vivid details of exactly what I wanted to do with him. But that wasn't to say that I only wanted to go back to his hotel room just for sex, because I didn't. I wanted to be alone with him; where he let down his guard some, where he relaxed and seemed more real. Besides, I'd never been very comfortable having attention on me and wherever Edward went, eyes were on him, therefore, it felt like they were on me. The feeling was unnerving and I didn't know how he did it all the time.
I pulled myself from my thoughts and responded to his playful accusation.
"No expectations," I promised, teasing back, using the words he'd said to me earlier, on him.
He smirked at me playfully.
Then turning my tone serious, telling him honestly, I said, "Edward, by this time tomorrow, I'll be back home in Port Angeles, I want to be with only you from now until I have to go, please."
I don't know what he saw on my face or in my tortured brown-eyes that pleaded with him, but Edward let out a quick breath, ran his hand through his hair and nodded, studying me, but said nothing. Then he got up from the table and quickly moved to my side to pull out my chair.
I looked up at him and murmured, "thank you," not used to that kind of attention.
Unlike the night before, we were able to get to the car without a flourish of camera flashes, to which I was grateful. But also unlike the night before, Edward didn't place his hand on the small of my back as we left; in fact, he kept his hands determinedly set inside his pant pockets the whole way to the car. I couldn't help but wonder why and my self-doubt reared his ugly head again, reminding me of his text to me earlier about being glad that no one knew who I was.
I couldn't shut up the voice inside my head that kept asking the question: Is he ashamed of me?
I shook off the thought; he wouldn't have taken me out again or wanted to go dancing with me tonight if he was ashamed of me, right? Besides, it didn't matter, I wouldn't let it matter. Nothing like that mattered tonight; nothing at all. I'd worry about everything I didn't want to face now, when I went home. Tonight all that mattered was Edward was with me and he wanted me to stay with him up until the minute I had to go home. That was what mattered. My doubts, worries, insecurities and the ramifications of what had happened here in New York, would all have to wait until then.
I thanked Charlie, Edward's driver, for opening the car door for me to which he returned with a crinkly grin. Then Edward offered his hand to help me into the car. I blushed uncomfortable with the fawning. Like Edward pulling my chair out for me in the restaurant, it felt overwhelming and unnecessary to me.
When Edward climbed in the car behind me, he pulled me over to him, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tightly against his side. Instantly I felt everything else in the world wash away except for him and me.
I let out a hum of contentment and rested my head on his shoulder. I couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that all my things should be waiting for me in Edward's room. And liking that fact far more than I knew I should.
...
Before dinner, after Edward behaved—to my satisfaction—very un-gentlemanly, when we were still hold up in my hotel room, Edward called Charlie up to the room, while I called up Rose and then the front desk to check out of our room. Charlie retrieved both my and Rosalie's luggage and took them to the car to deliver them to Edward and Emmett's rooms, accordingly.
Edward and I waited a few minutes in the room after Charlie left and then went down to the car ourselves. I didn't understand why, until Edward pointed out that, in the chance that someone had spotted him other than those thirteen-year-old girls and had tipped off the paparazzi; our being spotted in a hotel lobby together would be speculated and picked apart as it was. If we were spotted in a hotel lobby together with a couple bags of luggage in tow, a whole lot more could be construed from that. He insisted that I shouldn't be put in a situation where I could be pulled through the mud like that. In fact, he debated on having me go down separately from him for that same reason, but I stubbornly refused, telling him that if the only reason for going down separately was concern for me, I could handle myself just fine.
I couldn't help but laugh at Edward as we left the room, watching him turn instantly on edge, the moment we stepped into the hallway. He kept checking over his shoulder and down the hall to see if anyone else was there and jumping at noises I couldn't hear. He only relaxed minutely once we got into the elevator and started our decent, but he watched the numbers intently as if willing the elevator to not stop to pick up someone on another floor. Luckily, the hallway had been unoccupied and the elevator went directly to the lobby. However, when we exited the elevator we were greeted by a group of teenage girls, presumably the same girls from earlier, who were camped out there. They startled several people in the previously quiet space when they saw Edward step out of the elevator and rushed him with squeals, screams and incoherent babbling.
It was fascinating to watch Edward morph instantly into 'Anthony Cullen, the actor', before my eyes. It was like a switch he turned on. It was a lot like him, but somehow… not at all. He still pulled his hands through his hair and shoved his hands in and out of his pockets; something I was beginning to recognize as nervous mannerisms. But, to anyone who didn't know him, if they'd seen him at that moment with those girls, wouldn't be able to tell he was uncomfortable at all with the attention, as I knew he was. In fact, if I were to have told a stranger watching, that the Anthony Cullen that was smiling and posing with those girls for pictures, had been genuinely terrified of and desperate to hide from the same girls an hour earlier, they would have laughed in my face, thinking the idea was preposterous. But Edward looked like it was nothing, as he humored the girls and kept glancing at me apologetically. I just smiled back, enjoying the show, since they thankfully acted as if I'd been all but invisible—something I almost attained to in my everyday life. Edward finally excused himself, thanking the girls, saying he had to leave, and then escorted me out of the hotel to the waiting car, with his hand placed protectively on the small of my back.
...
I felt the car slow and turn, and looked around, noticing we were already entering that cavernous area of Edward's hotel garage, that we had been dropped off at the night before. I'd been lost in a comfortable silence as Edward held me; it had felt like no time at all had passed. I couldn't help but fear that the same would happen with the rest of the night.
I straightened up preparing to exit the car and felt Edward almost reluctantly release me from his arms before I reached for the handle the moment the car stopped. I started to open the door, but Charlie was there, in a flash, hurriedly opening the door for me, as if the thought of my opening my own door was not to be heard of.
I blushed and thanked him as he helped me out of the car. I paused until Edward was by my side and he placed a soothing, electric hand on the small of my back. The man standing in the elevator waiting area to receive us greeted us cheerily and surprised me by knowing my name this time. I'd wondered how he'd come to know it; I figured maybe Charlie had passed along the information, as I couldn't see Edward doing so.
The elevator ride up to his room held a comfortable silence this time; not uncomfortable and on edge like the night before when, for a reason I still hadn't figured out, Edward had seemed angry. Though the ascent seemed comfortable, I hadn't realized how on edge he had been until I almost felt his unease drain away the moment we stepped into his room and the door closed behind us.
He turned to me, as if to say something, but he stopped in his tracks, looking mesmerized by the sight of me, as if he'd not been looking at me the entire night already. He began to reach out his hand to take mine. But just before his fingers grazed mine, his cell phone sounded, pulling him from the moment.
Stupid, damn cell phone.
Edward withdrew his outstretched hand and pulled it through his disarrayed bronze hair, as he shut his eyes and shook his head as if pulling his thoughts together. He opened his eyes and flashed me an apologizing smile as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He looked at who was calling him, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as if he didn't want to answer the call, but knew he had to.
"Sorry, but if I don't take this now, she'll be calling all night," he apologized to me and then put the phone up to his ear and turned away.
She? I could feel a pit in my stomach knot with jealousy and hurt.
Thankfully the feeling was short-lived though, as it all but vanished a second later when I heard him answer the phone, addressing the woman as "Alice".
I smiled and made my way to the bathroom to freshen up and to give Edward some privacy to talk with his sister. I felt a surge of excited satisfaction when I turned on the bedroom light, on my way to the bathroom, and saw my suitcase standing next to the dresser.
Edward really wanted me to stay with him tonight. I was really going to stay here with him again. It was almost too surreal to comprehend.
I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror when I entered the bathroom; I was grinning like an absolute idiot and couldn't help but laugh at myself. But really, I had every reason to grin like a total idiot. I was the luckiest person in the world tonight, being the one who got to spend it with Edward.
When I came back out of the bathroom, I could hear that Edward was still on the phone, so I walked over to my suitcase, took off my heels and set my purse on the dresser. I paused there, not knowing where else to go or what to do while I waited. I didn't want to interrupt his phone call and tried to not listen to his conversation. I pulled out my phone to check for missed calls or texts for something to do. There were both. I scrolled through the texts from my family—namely Jessica—but I couldn't say what they had said; I just couldn't give them any of my attention and energy tonight, as it was all completely focused on Edward.
I'll deal with them tomorrow, like everything else. I thought as I shoved my phone back into my purse. I found, despite my best efforts to not listen in on Edward's conversation, it was impossible to not hear him as he was standing just on the other side of the wall.
"It's a bit soon for that, Alice," he told his sister. "I haven't even talked with her about—" he let out an irritated growl with being cut off—the sound shot to my core. "Yes, my little omniscient sister." He chuckled. "But I'm not promising anything. No, Alice. It's not about wanting to—" He sighed. "You know, you may be as little as a pixie, but you're irritating enough for a giant." He breathed a defeated laugh. "Alright, I'll think about it." Then Edward let out a sharp breath of a laugh. "Yeah, I know," he said with a smile in his voice and then laughed more heartedly. "I do. See you soon."
"Bella?" Edward called after a couple moments, pulling me from my statue-like stance, I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"I'm in here," I called back starting to walk toward the bedroom door, but Edward beat me there. Standing in the doorway, he flashed an impish grin when his eyes found me.
"Straight to the bedroom, love?" he asked quirking an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame with a playfully arrogant smile. "I was right. You are completely insatiable."
"No, I just— you— I went—" I took a breath and tried again. "You were on the phone—I didn't want to—" I stammered sounding like a complete idiot, flushing tomato red.
Edward breathed a laugh. "I don't think I could ever tire of getting you to blush," he said flashing my favorite crooked smile as he straightened up and closed the distance to me sliding his hands along my waist. "So beautiful," he murmured as he reached up with one hand and slid the back of his fingers along my flaming cheek.
His eyes met mine and just like that, I was lost in them, I swam in their emerald depths never wanting to surface and as desperate as ever to have him again.
"I see your luggage arrived without issue," he said keeping his eyes on me, his voice thicker now than it had just been.
I nodded, fighting against Edward's eyes and natural, dizzying fragrance to find my voice again. "I guess you're kind of stuck with me now," I said without volume.
"Hmm. You make it sound like a punishment," he accused.
I bit my lip holding back my retort.
Edward wrapped his fingers under my chin and put his thumb to my lip, releasing it from my teeth and then tipped my head up further to him, our lips just not touching. "Well if it is a punishment, it's one I'll happily take."
I was stunned by the sweet smell of his breath, as it swept across my face. Then Edward closed the small distance and gently brushed his lips to mine, sliding his hand to cup my face, bowing my back with the other to press the length of my body firmly against his.
I groaned in relief and kissed him back eagerly, sliding my hands around his neck, desperately clutching him closer to me.
Next thing I knew, my hands moved to the button on his pants.
"Insatiable," he teased grabbing a hold of my wrists, smiling against my lips and sending a concentrated scent of Edward to blow across my face. I took a couple of breaths to steady myself, but was unsuccessful, as the air was laced with Edward. I opened my eyes to look at him and was instantly trapped in his.
"Only with you," I admitted, being far too honest with what I was thinking—affected, as always, by the drug that radiated off of him.
A blush swiftly followed a second later; it traveled across my face and dove down my neck in a flash, as I realized what I'd confessed aloud. I forced myself to pull away from his spellbinding eyes, directing them down with embarrassment of saying too much.
Edward put his fingers on my chin, tipping it up once again to force me to look back up at him.
"That makes two of us," he told me, his eyes burning with an intensity that melted me, making my breathing speed. I wondered if I was going to tackle him to the bed and rip off our clothes or continue to be rendered an idiot, speechless, like I was.
My heart was pounding fiercely with hope that what I had heard him say wasn't just one of my hallucinations.
Edward took a deep breath as if to calm himself. "Come on, love," he said stepping away and taking my hand, moving to leave the bedroom.
Wait. What?
I could feel my whole body whine in unison with a horrified protest. No!
A gentle laugh slipped through his lips as he looked back at me and caught my reaction. I knew my objection, to his suggestion, was written all over my face, as that was where all my emotions seemed to prefer to live.
"If we start that now, we're sure to not do anything else until you have to leave tomorrow," he said stepping back to me, dragging his thumb along my bottom lip, sending a fresh wave of want to surge through my body.
And the down side to that is…? Floozy Bella piped up.
Edward laughed at my expression that I knew once again said exactly what I was thinking without me having to say a word.
"Believe me, I want to…" he practically growled. Then he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before looking back to me and continuing, "But why I want you here is not just how amazing you feel, Bella. It's everything about you. I want to know more about you," his eyes burned with sincerity.
"What is there to know?" I asked, my voice sounding a bit too petulant.
"Tons," he insisted with a laugh at my tone. "I feel like I've barely scratched the surface."
"Trust me, I'm not that interesting," I scoffed.
"On the contrary, I find you as fascinating as you are beautiful."
I snorted a laugh for his infused meaning on both accounts.
"Like that," he said, his eyebrows pushing together with a mixture of concern, sadness and confusion. "What makes you see yourself in such a skewed light?"
"I see myself just fine, Edward," I defended. "I think I have a very realistic view of myself, actually. I know what I am and what I'm not. And I'm fine with it."
I felt my view of myself was very realistic and accurate. I had no misconceptions that I possessed beauty or ample sex appeal that often were delusions women frequently had about themselves, based on wishes and fantasy. I knew I was just another ordinary face, an average person. I wasn't ugly; pretty enough, but by no means was I a knockout or a head-turner—nothing out of the common way and definitely nothing along the lines of beautiful. But I didn't really have hard feelings about that fact. Actually, I sometimes figured that I was happier because of it; I don't think I would want to be as glamorously stunning as Rose; the attention that came with that level of beauty was something I would never desire.
"No, Bella," he disagreed, shaking his head. "You don't see yourself clearly at all and I can't figure out why. From what I've gathered of your relationships with your siblings, parents and friends, and what I've witnessed with your interactions with Rosalie, none of it speaks at all to why you'd have such an unfoundedly poor view of yourself. I know I only know a little about them, but none of them seem toxic or harmful to you. Instead, it's almost like you see something completely different than everyone else. It's frustrating because I'm not sure what it is or why. I can usually read people pretty well, but I can't seem to quite figure you out."
"You're kidding right?" I sniffed. "My mom has always called me an open book because my emotions are always written all over my face. And you seem to read every last one of them with unfailing accuracy."
"That's true," he conceded. "You don't hide what you're thinking and feeling well; like your easy blushes," he smiled when I blushed in response, but then the smile faded as he continued. "But your easily read emotions are deceptive; because I can't read what's behind the emotions. I've never met someone so difficult to figure out."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him.
"What?"
"Even if what you say is true," I said in a way that said clearly that I didn't believe it was, "You still have me beat far and wide with the mystery department."
"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding like he genuinely had no idea what I'd meant.
"Despite your claim that you say too much around me, I feel like I know next to nothing about you. You're the master of selective response. Don't get me wrong, I understand why you do that, but out of the two of us, I'm the one who doesn't know anything about you, not the other way around."
"What do you want to know?"
"I want to know everything about you," I admitted. My heart kicked into double-time with the admission and quickly added, "But I want to respect your need to not divulge things. You're obviously a very private person; I'm not going to push you to tell me anything you don't want to share."
"I'll tell you anything you want to know, Bella."
"Anything?" I asked. The question I wanted so badly to ask him, perched on the edge of my tongue, painfully aching to jump off.
"Anything," he said seriously, his eyes boring into mine—the look that usually seemed to hold some sort of truth serum. But when I opened my mouth to ask him, the words didn't come. They lay heavy on my tongue, refusing to budge from their spot in fear that if they leapt, the answer would most likely not be the one I wanted—the one I needed.
The ache in my chest told me I simply couldn't handle that conversation tonight. Or more accurately, I just couldn't face the answer to that question quite yet.
Edward smiled at my hesitation, mistaking it for being unable to think of something to ask him. "How about you figure out what exactly you want to ask me while I show you something."
I just bit my lip and nodded. I was afraid to speak, not trusting my voice as I fought the sadness and fear of what his response to that question would be.
Edward took my hand in his and led me out of the bedroom.
"Did you want something to drink?" he offered pausing at the bar.
I shook my head.
Edward continued making his way to the sheathed wall I'd pondered about the night before. He slid his hand behind a break in the covering. I heard the sound of a door sliding open and he stepped behind the curtain.
I hesitated.
"It's fine, Bella. Trust me," Edward called from the other side of the screen. He offered his hand and I took it, stepping through without another thought.
I gasped at the sight.
We were standing on a balcony, over-looking the city. The balcony was very dark as the sun had already set on the city and with all the light from the inside blocked off, I could only faintly make out privacy partitions on either side of it, as well as a table and a few lounging chairs. But the balcony itself wasn't why I gasped; it was the view of the city below—it was a phenomenal thing to take in. A chaotic smattering of lights stretched in every direction. Each small light stabbed into the black night; moving red and yellow-white lights from the cars below, sporadic clusters of lights blotted throughout the varied heighted buildings, and orange-white streetlamps dotted between the buildings—lights everywhere. Each singularly small light that would make very little impact on its own, together with all the rest formed almost a faint glowing haze, like an orange aura around the city.
"This is the view you block off?" I asked with a mixture of amazement and disbelief still stunned by the sight I was taking in—there was so much to see.
"It's not the view I have that I object to," he said pulling me around in front of him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. My body wanted to purr in contentment of the moment. As it was, I smiled like a schoolgirl and leaned into his chest. "It's the view I'm potentially allowing to others."
Sensing my confusion, he clarified.
"The entire wall of this place—except the bedroom—is glass, which does have quite an effect, but also doesn't offer any privacy. I've learned the hard way on that one," he added with a bit of acid in his voice.
"Should we be out here at all then? Could someone spot you?" I asked, tensing up, on edge fruitlessly looking into the darkness to see if we were being watched and eyeing nearby buildings suspiciously. I wasn't concerned for myself, because who would care to watch me standing on a balcony, but for Edward.
"No, the blinds block all the light," he pointed behind us to the almost black wall. "It's dark enough out now that we can take in the view without worrying about that."
I relaxed back into his chest.
We stood there for awhile as we listened to the seemingly distant noises of the constantly moving city below; sirens of emergency vehicles sounded, car alarms were going off, horns honking, and the whole city seemed to constantly buzz with its infinite movement. Edward drew mindless designs gently on my arms and occasionally I'd feel Edward's short stubble catch in my hair followed by another tender kiss to the top of my head. It was peaceful and wonderful. I wanted to freeze the moment.
"I was going to bring you out here last night," Edward said softly, breaking the comfortable silence, "but we got a little… sidetracked."
I could hear the playful smile I knew he was wearing, in his voice.
"Hmm," I hummed with the wash of memories that flooded in with his statement and couldn't help but smile myself. "Well, I have to say, as fantastic as this is, I would take that sidetrack over the view, anytime," I said matter-of-factly, surprised by my blasé admission and even more so that chagrin didn't immediately follow my statement. The darkness must have been bolstering my boldness of confessions because, impressively, I didn't even blush.
"Insatiable," he accused with a laugh as he brushed his lips on the crown of my head. But then he moved his one arm down to wrap around my waist and pulled me in closer, holding the length of my body more securely against his.
I gasped. His pulling me closer to him effectively pressed the back of my hips to the front of his and allowed me to very noticeably feel, that despite his playful admonishment, he was actually very ready for me.
Instantly, the air around us thickened and crackled.
I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the city's sticky night air and everything to do with Edward. My entire body unleashed its restraint and immersed itself in the desire I had for him. I shamelessly pressed myself against him and rolled my hips against his erection.
I heard a light rumble come from his chest in response and he trailed his fingers along my collar bone.
Anticipation warmed my lungs until they tingled, making my breathing shallow with the hope that he wouldn't find a reason to stop this time.
"I'm trying to behave myself, but you're making it incredibly difficult. I am a man, Bella, my willpower isn't superhuman," he murmured, his lips grazing my ear as he ghosted a hand between my breasts, down my stomach and back again, teasing me.
I moaned lightly in response to his touch and opened my neck to him in offering, leaning the back of my head against his chest. "I'm not asking for you to be superhuman, Edward," I said, my voice slightly unsteady.
He bent forward tipping his head over the sensitive skin just under my jaw line, hovering over it, barely keeping his lips from touching me. I could feel his breath caressing my skin with light, teasing licks each time he exhaled, driving me mad with desire for his actual touch. I could almost hear every cell in my body begin to vibrate, as if every part of me was singing out in tandem for him while he hesitated.
My breathing became heavy and disjointed with the painful anticipation.
"Edward," I whimpered, unable to suffer in silence any longer.
He gasped at the sound of his name. His mouth attacked me with a wild urgency that had every nerve-ending he caressed relishing in his gratifying attention. His arms gripped me tightly against him, moving greedily along my body until one hand plunged into my dress taking ownership of my breast and the other grabbed the bottom hem of my dress, gathering it up in his fist, dragging his fingers along the inside of my thigh as he slowly worked his way up—torturing me in the most delicious way, until they brushed along my sex.
"Oh God," I moaned as I ground into his hand greedily. "Please Edward. I need you in me. Now," I added, my tone betraying my sheer desperation. I felt wild with it.
I was so turned on that I couldn't find it in me to be embarrassed that'd just made such a bold confession. Because honestly there were a whole lot more things—far more colorfully descriptive—that were sitting on the edge of my lips begging to be said I had never before dreamed of, but wanted to beg for Edward to do to me now.
My breathing turned heavier when his fingers began to travel back and slipped under my panties, first sliding them against me and then diving inside, soliciting a well-earned moan of release.
"Christ Bella, you feel so good," he breathed.
I reached behind me, slipping my hands between us, grasping for the waist of his pants, fumbling in my blind desperation as he yanked down my underwear, almost ripping them in his haste. His mouth became more urgent against my skin, turning rougher with each kiss as it traveled along my neck and along my jaw. Finally I succeeded in freeing him and backed myself up against him.
Oh God. Please. I begged silently, pushing against him until he was lined up to me. I moaned and pushed against him, feeling a strange rush of increased frustration that he wasn't in me yet and the sweet edge of release that he nearly was. When he started to enter me; the anticipation was painfully tangible.
"Jesus Christ!" he cursed against my neck. "Fuck!"
Edward pulled away from me. Leaving me confused.
I held back a whine at the loss of his touch and turned to him just in time to see him stand up from a crouched position. I jumped at a dull thud that hit the table next to me unable to see what it was. Then I heard a familiar ripping sound as he cursed softly between heavy breaths.
I reached out to him blindly in the dark, barely able to make out his figure when he roughly grabbed me pulling me into his arms and kissed me forcefully. I could feel his wild desperation as our mouths frantically tried to consume the others. Then he stopped and flipped me around abruptly. His lips were immediately on my neck, kissing me just below my ear letting me hear his heavy, disjointed breaths that turned me on further. Then his hands grabbed my hips tightly pulling them back against him. He whispered my name in a desperate plea against my neck, as I reached back grabbing a fist-full of his hair.
Then I bent forward placing my hands on the table in front of me for support.
He quickly positioned himself behind me and thrust into me roughly.
I screamed out.
He stopped instantly wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling my back to his chest.
"Are you okay?" Edward breathed heavily into my ear, concern overriding everything else.
I nodded almost frantically. "Do that again," I begged breathlessly. "Please."
Edward let out a heady laugh that held a mixture of relief and desire as he let go of his hold around my waist and slid his hands back to my hips, letting me lean forward again.
He grasped my hips tightly and repeated the action making me scream out again.
"Like that?" he asked as he obeyed my command, knowing that was exactly what I wanted.
"Yes, exactly like that," came a rough, breathless voice from my throat that I hardly recognized as my own.
He reached a hand around me as he continued to obey my request and slipped it between my legs, moving it back and forth along my sex, causing a string of expletives to stream from my mouth with the overwhelming combination of sensations. He continued until he put me over and followed immediately behind.
"What have you done to me?" Edward asked with his face in my hair when he lie hunched over me while we caught our breath, his arms once again wrapped tightly around my waist.
I bit my lip and looked over my shoulder, at him. Instantly I feared I'd done something wrong. I tensed up worrying how I'd failed to satisfy him.
"You're going to be the death of me," he said, turning me around, causing him to leave me. I whined in protest of the loss of connection, but he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "But what a way to go," he murmured flashing a very satisfied grin causing my worry to melt away.
I sighed in contentment as he closed the distance, kissing me in earnest, making me seriously wonder if I'd somehow managed to find my own personal heaven.
XXXXX
We did end up spending most of the night in bed. We would lie together and talk, as we lightly touched and stroked each other's naked bodies until one of us couldn't take it any longer and we succumbed to our desires. They weren't like out on the balcony when we had tried denying ourselves and in turn making us almost crazed in our want, instead they were slow, unrushed and tender and charged with emotion; they were the embodiment of what was inferred with the term "making love".
It felt like there was this unspoken understanding between the two of us that we didn't want to fall asleep, trying to get as much time together as possible, neither willing to give up any of it if we could help it, forgetting everything else in the world but each other.
We succeeded in fighting our fatigue for many hours lying with each other—sometimes in comfortable silence, saying nothing, sometimes sharing things about ourselves we hadn't told the other yet and sometimes connecting once more. But eventually, despite our efforts, sometime around sunrise, we lost the battle to sleep, tangled up tightly together as if we were refusing to let go of the other until we were forced to.
AN: Thank you MC for betaing.
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I have a Song Rec for this chapter that I thought was fitting (don't forget to remove the spaces in the link below):
"Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol
youtu. be / GemKqzILV4w