Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, 'kay?
Yeah, Jes will probably be another year older by the time I finish this, but let's recap, shall we? Last chapter: Edward was sexin' Bella up in the car because his balls are totally singin' the blues--Bella was all for it, because the girl is craving her man after an entire month of no action. And then, Emmett had to be a cockblock and call, interrupting them and reminding Edward of the bet's 'conditions.' Bella got tossed back onto the passenger seat, unsatisfied, and is currently stewing in sexual frustration & anger. Yup. Oh, and they're driving to Carlisle & Esme's house for brunch. Continue if you wish…
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Edward drove up the long driveway, and I stared out the window in awe. Esme had sent us plenty of pictures over the past few months, but seeing the house in person left a completely different impression; it was incredibly gorgeous. Modernly, intrinsically built with titian Stucco and mahogany wood, arrayed with a myriad of crystal windows, constructed with a combination of fine curves and sharp architectural design, and surrounded by sunbathed grass, it stood: Esme's dream house.
"Wow," I breathed, wanting to lean out of the open car window so I could see better.
Edward chuckled. "Oh. She speaks."
I'd ignored him the entire drive, giving him conveyed glances of 'Are you kidding me?' when he tried to crack a joke, or when he reached over to rub my knee. I'd almost caved into conversation once he brought up Aro, because when it came to being introduced to his uncle, I was as intimidated as a nun in a topless bar.
Aro Cullen was a world-renowned genius, and not only was he a well-known figure in the political world, he was also a literary mastermind. I'd studied World Literature for years, and in many of the subjects I'd taken, he had, quite literally, written the book on them. I was beyond terrified of him actually speaking to me. I was certain I'd either blank out on an answer to a question, or just start bumbling like an idiot as soon as I opened my mouth.
And, of course, as I'd swallowed my frustration and opened my mouth to spill a bit of my lasting insecurities and silly nervousness, Edward had remarked with a smug grin, "You might want to put on a pair of underwear, first. Just in case all the talk of books turns you on, baby."
Knowing it was probably not the best idea to punch him, considering he was driving seventy miles per hour on a freeway, I'd simply turned to the window and gritted my teeth, thinking of the Discovery Channel special on Praying Mantises that he and I had watched a week ago. After a round of bug-banging, the female had bitten off the male's head. Edward had no idea how close I was to taking a page out of that bitch's book at the moment.
As Edward parked, I ran my fingers through my hair and lowered the sun visor to check myself in the mirror. Luckily, I hadn't ruined my make-up from all of our kissing; all I needed was a bit of a touch-up, and I would be fine. Edward turned off the car and watched me silently as I smoothed another sheen of peach gloss onto my lips.
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not trying to sex you up, or anything," I said in defense. "You just kissed it all off, earlier."
"I know," he said gently, probably using his low, mellifluous voice on purpose, that tease. "You look beautiful, though, with or without it."
Flattery. Yeah, right.
"Thanks," I mumbled, frowning at myself in the mirror. I knew as soon as I saw Esme and Carlisle, I'd finally stop being a pouty wench and lighten up. He reached for the car door's handle and I put my hand on his wrist, stopping him from getting out. "Wait. You have sex hair. Well, almost-sex hair. Hold still."
He waited patiently as I smoothed his hair into place, trying to tame the unruly strands that I'd previously driven my hands through. "Mad at me?" he asked, lifting his fingers to my chin.
"Yes," I said calmly, tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear.
He licked his bottom lip and kissed my cheek softly, though I pulled away. "I'm sorry."
"I can't remember," I said sardonically. "What did you tell me back when I was in school, freaking out over projects, yet, procrastinating my ass off?"
Edward sighed. "Bella, that's hardly the same th--"
"Always finish what you start, Bella, distractions be damned," I rattled on, anyway. "And don't you dare pull the 'I'm fulfilling my word' crap and say that's what you were doing. If Emmett hadn't called, you would have gladly ripped off your clothes, and mine. This whole thing was a result of too many shots of Jager for five-hundred dollars. Don't tell me this is some kind of moral, religious, sacrificial experiment that you've been pondering for 'quite some time now.'"
"Man," Edward chuckled, opening his door. "I really woke the wild beast, didn't I?"
"I'm not wearing any underwear, Edward!" I accused, fumbling for my purse.
A loud laugh came from outside Edward's side of the car, and I snapped my mouth shut, wincing. Emmett. At least it's not--
"Hi, Dad," Edward said, giving me a wide smile before he got out of the car.
My mouth dropped back open, and I could feel my cheeks transform from flesh to furnaces. Oh, my God, no. The sun visor was hiding my view, and I hoped Edward was joking around. Cautiously, I pushed the visor back into place and peered through the shaded windshield. There he stood, next to Emmett: Carlisle Cullen.
Fuck. Me. Abort. Abort, now.
But I couldn't. Edward had the keys, and I still hadn't mastered the ability to teleport. I reluctantly pushed open the car door, feeling like an utter ass. If anything could make your vagina contemplate sewing itself shut, it was shouting that you were going commando in front of your boyfriend's father.
"Hi, Carlisle," I said in a mousy voice. Oh, hell. How to explain this?
"Morning, Bella," he said cheerfully, moving to give me a polite, yet awkward hug, considering what I'd just screamed. "How was the drive?"
I wanted to melt into a puddle of shame. "Uh, it was … fine." Edward and Emmett were grinning like the shameless little fuckers that they were, and I had to literally bite my tongue before cursing at them. "The house is gorgeous," I said instead, pointing to the villa on the hill. "I wish I would have brought my camera… Edward, did you bring yours?"
As I spun around to face him, the wind suddenly picked up, sweeping the skirt of my dress into the air, and I quickly slapped my hands down on the fabric to keep from flashing everyone.
"Ha, thar she blows!" Emmett bellowed, cracking himself up. Edward joined in, adding, "Seriously, Bella. Try not to hoist the sails around my father. He's married."
"Boys," Carlisle warned, giving them a slight frown.
I glared at them, cheeks flaming, with a look that hopefully conveyed 'Fuck you both.' I looked from them to Carlisle, my chest heaving with angry breath. "Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you how exasperating they are, as you raised them … but for the record, Edward stole my underwear. Every pair. Emmett bet him he wouldn't be able to hide them from me for a whole month. They think it's hysterical."
Carlisle pressed his lips together and stared at his sons. Emmett of course, cackled loudly, and Edward gaped at me with incredulity. Glowering, I silently challenged him to say that it wasn't true, either. Two can play at this game, darling.
"Unfortunately, honey, it's my fault," Carlisle said, patting my shoulder. "I literally dropped Edward on his head when he was one, and then another time when he was three. He's always been a little off, ever since."
Edward rolled his eyes while Emmett clapped him on the back, continuing to giggle like a little girl.
"I don't know what you're laughing about, Emmett," Carlisle continued. "You ran headfirst into the glass sliding door more times than I can remember." With that, he winked at me and said, "I've actually got that on video, somewhere. We'll have to dig it up tomorrow, after the party."
Carlisle insisted on carrying my bags, and Emmett and Edward heaved the rest onto their shoulders. The inside of the house was just as lovely as the outside, all because of Esme's finesse for interior design. Flowers were everywhere, and the furniture was modern, clean, and corresponding--very Esme. Carlisle showed me and Edward to our room, which was respectively exquisite, and then took Emmett further down the hall, leaving us alone.
We eyed each other silently for a moment before I sighed and opened my suitcase, unrolling my cocktail dress for the party and hanging it from the top of the bathroom door. I heard Edward rummaging through his own bag, but I didn't look at him, not even when he said, "I love you in that dress."
I knew. It was why I had packed it in the first place. But I was tired of hearing him butter me up, when it was highly probable that he would be embarrassing the hell out of me, sooner or later. When we'd finished unpacking our necessities, Edward offered me his hand. "I guess I have some making up to do, huh?"
I pulled at my dress with one hand, and allowed Edward to take my other. We quietly walked downstairs and through the foyer, and he had such a mischievous smile on his face, that I hissed, "You know, I never, ever thought I'd say this to you, but I kind of want to kick you in the balls."
Edward practically snorted. "Bella Swan," he said in a mock-reprimand. "You're too sweet to be a ball-kicker. And, knowing you, you'd probably end up losing your own balance if you lifted your leg that high."
I ripped my hand out of his so fast, he actually flinched at my sudden movement--or maybe because of my angry, glaring eyes.
"Geez, I'm kidding, Bella," he said, chuckling nervously and quickly pulling me into a sun-filled sitting room. Again, I wrenched my hand out of his and pressed my back against the wall, taking a breath, and wondering why the hell I was so mad. I knew he was joking; we always teased each other, and neither of us ever took it seriously. But, for some reason, every joke he was making felt like a hurtful jab, causing my stomach to churn.
"I'm just not up for it, you know?" I said quietly, wrapping my arms around my waist. "I feel stupid enough as it is, already."
"Why?" he asked, genuine concern crossing over his handsome features.
"Just with everything that happened in the car, and then your dad overhead me say that I'm all … panty-free," I grumbled, fixing my eyes on the gleaming grand piano. "And then you and Emmett riling me up, enough to make me change my clothes so I didn't look like your grandmother…"
And you wanted this fiasco to go on for two months, originally…
"And … well, I'm still in the mood, okay?" I finished, hanging my head, still mourning the loss of our earlier endeavor. "It's frustrating. I don't know how you made it this far."
"Well, it wasn't exactly a picnic." He leaned over and kissed my cheek, and then--then--that bastard blew into my ear.
I whipped my head up to stare at him, stunned, and shot him a stupefied look. He only smirked. "What are you doing?" I hissed under my breath, trying not to draw too much attention. I could hear voices, which meant that people were probably right around the corner.
"Apologizing," he said, humming against my hair, slowly moving his hands up my side. He clutched my back and got a handful of my chest with his other hand, circling his thumb until my nipple perked, even under the silky layer of my bra.
"A-apologizing?" I repeated, feeling my face flush with warmth and blood, and my traitorous girly parts followed suit like naive sheep. I tried to pull away, but knocked my head against the leaves of a potted tree that was beside us, which ensnared a hunk of my hair. "You're feeling me up behind a Ficus."
Edward laughed softly, spinning me toward him and untangling my hair. He leaned me against the wall and pressed his knee into the center of my dress, trailing his tongue around my earlobe. "Fine, no hands, then," he breathed, kissing my temple, putting his palms on the wall.
Ohmigoddd.
"You're--" I stopped, swallowing, unsure if I wanted to knee him in his temporary-celibate jewels or ravish him atop the piano, showing him my own personal meaning of tickling the ivories. "I thought we agreed 'no more teasing.' You're … breaking the rules … God, Edward…"
Feelings forgotten, I wanted him--I wanted this. Involuntarily, I leaned into his leg, feeling like a horny puppy as I rubbed against him. I crushed my lips against his, gripping his collar and tugging him closer, still feeling swollen and unsatisfied from the car, and was desperate for the friction he was providing. His hands eventually fell onto my shoulders, descending until he was cupping my ass, pulling me up and letting me slide against him as I grew increasingly hot and breathless.
I wondered if we could quietly slip away, rush upstairs and go buck wild, then sneak back down, as though we'd been "unpacking" the whole time. Hell, we could do it in a closet, for all I cared.
"Easy," he whispered, suddenly breaking away, and I blinked, startled by his separation. "You're not wearing underwear, remember? Patience."
And with that, he smiled and tapped my chin with his hand--the same hand that had just been squeezing and teasing my body. He stepped back, leaving me panting and clutching the wall with barely-restrained willpower.
"So, brunch?" he asked with a grin, holding out his palm in invitation.
I stared at him, distracted by the pulsing in my groin. "Are you … kidding me?" I wheezed, my mouth dry.
"Well, I don't think my family would be fond of witnessing your post-coital glow," he said, chuckling, making me blush a deeper shade of magenta. "Let's go eat. I'm starving."
I narrowed my eyes, biting the inside of my cheek. Was he fucking serious? This was the second time he got me all hot and bothered and left me wanting, like a sex-crazed teenager. I was half a step away from launching myself at him and ripping off his clothes. Buttons would fly; thin, cotton fabric would rip; his chest would swell with anticipatory breath; his cock would be rock-hard and ready--
"Bella," Edward said, beginning to laugh, tugging on my hand. "I'm just overeager about what we're going to do later. Just think of this as a preview."
"I think I hate you," I rasped, trying to calm my libido.
He grinned. "You do not."
"I might."
He pulled me into the foyer and smoothed my hair with one of his hands. "Now you have sex hair," he teased, even though that wasn't close to being true--I had cheated, Ficus hair. "Think of Charlie naked. That's what helped me out a lot this month."
I curled my lip, scoffing--though, even thinking about visualizing my father in such a way quickly brought me more clarity. I shuddered slightly, and yanked my hand away from Edward's grasp for the umpteenth time. "You're not allowed to touch me anymore until midnight," I pouted, shuffling my feet.
Edward let out a barking laugh, sounding just like his brother. I should have stuck with my "polo instructor" outfit and sprayed myself with that shit-tastic, strawberry spray that he was allergic to. That would have kept him at bay, and made him a snotty mess--then, maybe I would have kept my distance, too.
Before I knew it, we were on the patio, and my breath ceased at the stunning view. It was gorgeous: sand-colored limestone was spread under our feet, stretching wide, and three large steps led to a circular terrace, which contained an exquisite barbeque grill. Carlisle was standing behind it with a pair of tongs, now decked out in an apron with a large cartoon muffin on the front, reading: Do You Know the STUD MUFFIN Man?
He waved the tongs at me with a grin, and I smiled back, feeling more at ease with the breeze in my face. And seeing Carlisle in that apron.
"Edward, Bella!"
I turned to see Esme hurrying toward us, beaming with an excited smile. She enveloped Edward in her arms first, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and making him grumble by saying how handsome he looked. Then, she turned to me, giving me a tight hug.
"I'm so glad you both finally came!" she said lightly. "Bella, you look lovely! And how on earth did you get my son to put on dress shoes?"
"I had to beat him into submission," I teased. Edward was always whiny about dressing up if it wasn't for work, but Esme had asked me to try to push him toward wearing 'nice' clothes. "Actually, I just had to hide all his sneakers." I looked at Edward and smirked. "They're in dryer," I told him.
Edward looked at his feet and sighed, and, suddenly, Emmett came up behind Esme. "It was only fair, Mom," he said. "Edward hid all of Bella's girly delicates."
I felt my cheeks burn--joking with Carlisle was one thing, but Esme was … motherly. I fought the urge to kick Emmett's shin, but Edward didn't hold back. He punched his brother in the arm and scowled. "Yeah, that's appropriate," he growled, glaring at Emmett before trading looks between Esme and myself.
Esme's mouth dropped. "You did what, Edward?"
"I--Bella--" Edward began, but I cut in quickly.
"Esme, it's beautiful out here," I said, putting my arm around her shoulder, leading her away before the boys would start. "And the house… the pictures didn't do it justice. It's incredible."
Esme shot Edward and Emmett one more scolding look, then took my arm. "Thank you, honey. It's been a lot of work--I'd still like to paint the upstairs bathroom a different color, and maybe build a gazebo to put on the side of the house, but I'm pleased with how everything's turned out so far! Carlisle's been working so hard … although, I can't seem to tear him away from that grill, lately. Every meal we've eaten for the past two weeks has come off of that thing. Even the eggs we're having today were made in a pan, on the grill." She smiled lovingly at her husband before turning back to me. "Would you like me to introduce you to Aro? He got here early this morning. Edward told me you've been looking forward to meeting him!"
My heart started to pound, almost as fast as it had been a few minutes ago; only this feeling was terrifying. "Uh, yeah, sure," I squeaked, clearing my throat.
"Oh, honey, don't be nervous," said Esme, chuckling, very aware of my admiration for her brother-in-law. "Just think--he and Carlisle used to run around in diapers together."
I laughed timidly, and Esme led me to the end of the patio, where a man was standing with his back to us, and a cell phone pressed to his ear. "Marvelous, Marcus, I'll see you tomorrow," came his deep, but gentle voice. "Right, right--just tell Caius not to forget his note cards this time."
He turned, suddenly, spotting me and Esme, and smiled, holding up his hand in a 'one moment' gesture. My palms were sweating and I quickly wiped them on my dress, knowing I'd probably be shaking his hand. After Aro closed his phone, he slid it into his blazer and looked up at me and Esme. He resembled Carlisle, though his hair was darker, and his eyes were the most curious, deep-rooted shade of blue I'd ever seen, similar to the night sky.
"My phone will be turned off for the rest of the day, I promise," he said with a cheerful smile, winking at Esme. "And, who's this? Edward's Bella, I presume?"
"Yes, this is she," Esme said warmly, guiding me closer. "Bella, this is Aro Cullen. Aro, this is Isabella Swan."
"My goodness, you're even more lovely than Edward described," Aro said, taking my hand with a friendly squeeze.
"Th-thank you," I said, hoping I didn't sound as high-pitched as I thought. "It's really nice to meet you, sir. I've heard a lot about you."
"Ah, don't believe a word of it," he said jovially. I smiled, trying very hard not to think of Emmett's earlier comment about 'snack trays.' "Edward tells me you're quite fond of World literature--you've started a job as a translator, have you not?"
"Uh, yes, a few months ago," I said, trying to swallow my shy voice. "It's been something I've wanted to do for years."
Actually, it was something I'd wanted to do since meeting Edward in college. He and I used to fool around in the library stacks when our roommates were hogging our rooms. One particularly playful evening, a French copy of Odysseus fell on top of my head, and literary sparks flew.
"Anything to do with books, and their words--the languages I've studied are just beautiful," I added, twisting my hands nervously. "Edward gave me your book on Roman Literature last year, too. I--I loved it. I can't even explain how enlightening it was. Your perspective of Roman versus Greek mythology kept me reading for hours."
Aro's peculiar, indigo eyes gleamed. "Well, I'm flattered, young lady. We'll have to sit down and have a chat later."
I nodded, smiling shyly, thinking I should shut up before I made a blathering ass out of myself.
"Well, let's sit down, shall we?" Esme suggested cordially, gesturing to a table that was already set. "Carlisle should be done with the asparagus in a moment. Would you both like some wine, or champagne? Or, I have tons of juice: orange, pineapple, tomato--"
"Esme, dear, you always have enough for a small army," Aro remarked lightly, chuckling. "And, I'll gladly help myself and serve you ladies. What strikes your fancy, young lady?" he asked, glancing at me.
Considering the fact that my heart was a speed demon, and my libido was raging, I figured alcohol wouldn't hurt. "Champagne, please," I said, still too-high pitched for my liking. "Thank you."
"Good choice," Esme replied, taking my arm. "I already have some, myself, Aro. Come and greet your nephews, afterward, if you dare. They're already behaving like trolls."
As if on cue, we glanced over to find Emmett trying to put Edward in a headlock. Aro and I both laughed, and Esme took me over to the table as Aro walked to a small, outside bar to get our drinks. She left to help Carlisle, but not before pulling Edward and Emmett apart, shooing them away from the grill, muttering something about, "burning the house down before the wildfires have a chance." Emmett immediately bounded to the porch, and Edward followed soon after.
"So, Bella," Emmett said quickly. "While the adults aren't listening--what happened in the car? No lying."
Edward rolled his eyes behind his brother, and I couldn't help but smile. "Well, I'm thinking of sizing up Edward's holy poker for a clerical collar, if that answers your question."
Emmett roared with laughter that was so loud, everyone turned to look at us. "Fuck, Bella," he sputtered under his breath.
"What's that word?" I asked, feigning confusion. "I forget what it means."
I'd never seen Emmett in such a state of hilarity as he was right then. Edward simply sucked in his cheeks, which were slightly pink, and said with a sarcastic air, "You guys are hilarious."
"Oh, I could go all day," I replied, raising my eyebrows, meeting Emmett's eyes and biting my lip with another giggle. "Too bad you can't," he and I said in unison, and despite the cheesiness, we cracked ourselves up.
"Funny," Edward echoed dully. "At least I can keep my underwear on."
Thankfully, within a few moments, Aro strolled up beside us and graciously handed me a flute of champagne. "Care to let me in on what's so amusing?"
He and the boys exchanged hearty hellos, and regardless of how Edward acted earlier, I couldn't help but watch with affection. I loved seeing him with his family; everything about the Cullens was warm, happy, friendly, and certainly uproarious, at times. Moments like these made me secretly long to be a real part of their family, even though Edward and I had both decided that we weren't in a hurry; a marital certificate wasn't the only confirmation that we were in love, after all.
When Esme announced that it was time to eat, Emmett and I sat across from each other, as did Esme and Aro, leaving Edward and Carlisle on the ends of the rectangular table. As everyone started chatting casually and passing plates of food, Edward tapped my hand and mouthed, "Still mad?"
I tried not to smile, but was unsuccessful as I held up my fingers in pinched gesture, indicating 'a little.' He chuckled quietly and we both turned our attention back to the others.
Esme held out a small platter to me. "Would you like a sausage, dear?"
"God, would I ever," I uttered, reaching for the tongs. Emmett choked on his iced tea and I carefully avoided Edward's eyes so I wouldn't burst into laughter. "They look great--thanks, Esme. All right, there, Em?"
Emmett nodded, but I could see him struggling to hide a smile. Ha.
"It's a shame Rosalie couldn't join us," Aro remarked, casually patting Emmett on the back. "Though, I'm sure Fashion Week would be lost without her."
"Mm," Emmett hummed, clearing his throat and giving me a comical look. "Yeah, she's sorry she couldn't be here, but you know Rosalie. She'd give her kidney for that Dolce and Garbage stuff. I told her to cozy up to one of the fashion designers so she'll get a free wedding dress."
"Oh, Emmett," Esme sighed, spearing a piece of cantaloupe with her fork. "She would never do that."
"Hey, Mom, I'm not complaining," Emmett said cheerfully. "Most of the guys are gay, and the rest are chicks, which is cool with me."
"Leave it to you, Emmett, to make reference to girl-on-girl action at the table," Edward muttered.
Emmett took a bite of his food and said with his mouth full, "Leave it to you, Eddie, to say 'girl-on-girl' at the table."
"Well, you boys haven't changed a bit," Aro said lightheartedly, raising his glass and, thankfully, changing the subject. "So, Car, how is the university treating you?"
Brunch continued, and between conversation, the sounds of our forks scraping the china, and the gentle rustling of trees in the wind, I was finally relaxed and enjoying myself without thoughts of Edward's knee against my missy-thang. But, then, of course, he had to ruin it.
Out of the blue, his suddenly-shoeless foot slid across my ankle to the underside of my leg. I accidentally spilled a small amount of my champagne as his toes curled, sliding up my calf and firmly pressing into my skin as he reached the bottom of my knee. Calmly, I turned to face him and he gave me a small smile.
Oh. No. You. Don't.
I slipped off my right shoe and crossed my leg over my left, angling it toward his chair. Instead of kicking him or shaking him off, I took the opportunity to slide my foot against his leg, taking time to mimic the very same actions he had just performed before abruptly slithering my foot directly into his lap. He straightened immediately, surprised, but no one took notice.
Craftily, I took a bite of my eggs and kept my eyes on Carlisle as I rolled my ankle, feeling in circles for the part of Edward I wished to 'awaken.' He shifted his hips a bit, trying to move where my foot couldn't reach, but I simply scooted my chair closer to his side of the table.
This is what you get for being a monstrous tease, I emphasized with my eyes. He vaguely shook his head at me, reaching down to push away my foot, but I wriggled out of his grasp and worked it back into the center of his lap. I didn't look at him, instead pretending to be engrossed in Aro's speech about his latest volunteer work with an Episcopalian Church. No one but Edward knew how non-saintly I was, at the moment. He tried to block my toes from frisking his manly bits with his hand, and his not-so-subtle fidgeting drew Emmett's attention. He took one look at was what going on by the hem of the tablecloth and snorted loudly.
"Got an itch, little brother?" Emmett said, scooting his chair closer to the table, blocking anyone else's view but his own. "There are creams for that."
Edward flushed a shade of pink that gave me a run for my money, and looked as though he wanted to fire up the barbeque and grill Emmett's balls. He jerked his hands back into everyone's view, and I raised my napkin to my mouth to hide my unabashed grin, ready to die of laughter at the looks on everyone else's faces. Indeed, it did appear that Edward was ball-grabbing instead of preventing me from foot-fondling his dick. "I was just--"
"Stirring the beans?" Emmett continued, winking at me.
Esme's hiss of "Emmett!" pushed me over the edge, and I cackled into my napkin until tears came to my eyes. Edward's eyes were insanely wide as he wildly raked his finger through his hair, resembling a crack-addled Muppet.
"I missed a button," he finally mumbled, reaching for his water with trembling hands, embarrassed.
"Oh!" Carlisle barked, his eyes glinting, and he turned to Aro. "Shall we relive the time you stood up in front of all the Philanthropy Forum investors with your zipper down?"
Aro laughed heartily, and luckily, everyone's attention shifted to his story, which gave me a chance to continue playing under the tablecloth. After Emmett's comment, Edward didn't dare put his hands back in his lap--instead, he tried closing his legs, but I was determined and devious, insistent on teaching him a lesson with "no hands," as he had teased, earlier. I could feel him hardening with every rub of my foot, bringing life and blood into the monastery that was Edward's penis.
Only I could feel his lap shifting and twitching, but he was doing a remarkable job at keeping his upper body still. The men were boisterously loud, so no one heard Edward's soft grunt … except for Esme. She turned toward Edward, glanced at his still-flushed cheeks and softly inquired if he was all right. He nodded quickly, but Esme leaned over to me in concern. "See if he feels feverish, honey. He would never admit it," she said, keeping her voice low, but not low enough for Edward to miss.
"I'm fine, Mom," Edward half-spoke, half-growled, and I sipped my water, trying to choke back another laughing fit before I leaned over the edge of the table. "Come here, honey," I hummed in mock-sympathy, curling my toes over what felt like the "crown of his king" as I reached over to feel his forehead, trying to ignore the fact that Esme was eyeing Edward's expression over my shoulder.
Edward quickly brushed my hand away, murmuring something under his breath, and I smirked, knowing that no man would want their mother watching them at a time like this. I twisted my toes, pressing a bit harder into him and brought my foot down in a slow cascade as I sat back in my chair.
When Esme finally decided that he was all right, she turned to put more asparagus on her plate, and I put more pressure on Edward's hot spot.
I'd never seen him bite his lip. He was constantly scolding me for doing it myself, telling me not to damage his favorite things to kiss, but here he was, sinking his teeth into his own full, pink bottom lip, practically hissing in salacity. And because he hadn't relieved himself in so long, it was taking almost no time at all to make him crazy. He quickly pulled his water glass to his mouth and drank, closing his eyes and letting the rim linger on his lips for much longer than was necessary.
"Bella, I heard you did an internship in Prague."
I glanced toward the group of men, distracted for only a moment. Aro's remarkable, navy eyes were on me. He's addressing you. "Oh--yes," I answered, sipping my champagne quickly, trying to get my thoughts in order. "The Anglo-American University last summer. I chose liberal arts, but I picked up a few classes in architecture and Politics of the European Union."
As I spoke, I kneaded Edward's length with the ball of my foot, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him grasp his fork with white-knuckled fingers.
"Ah," Aro said happily, raising his eyebrows. "Jak se vám to líbilo, má drahoušek? Jsi odešla trvalý dojem?"
Everyone looked at me curiously, and I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat slightly--one, because of the attention, and two, because I could practically feel the pulse of blood coming from Edward's happy place.
"Ono nádherný , být zavázán tebe," I answered with the best accent I could manage, still stroking Edward under the table. "A předpokládám, že jsem to udělal. Jsem zakopl na můj profesor se zbraněmi na první den."
Aro laughed pleasantly, and winked at me before Carlisle offered him more wine. The conversation led toward politics, then, and I fixed my gaze on Edward as I did my fancy footwork, working him with as much vigor as I could while still appearing composed, wishing I could figure out how to undo his zipper.
He took a short breath, and I recognized the spark of a familiar cry that only left his mouth when it was just the two of us. I almost knocked over my glass as a distraction, but he quickly recovered by pretending to cough. Esme gave him another glance, creasing her eyebrows in concern, and Edward straightened his back, resting his chin on his fist.
I'll show you, Mr. I Can Last Two Months.
I brought my other foot into the mix, and focused on keeping my upper body as still as possible as my feet massaged his groin, arching and bending into his solid bulge, and I watched in satisfaction as Edward's chest rose and fell in a shallow rhythm. He tugged at his shirt, appearing to cool himself off, and his crystal-green eyes bore into mine.
I knew that face. He wanted me. Badly. And, at the same time, he was warning me to back off.
I smirked and rubbed him harder.
"You know who I've grown most fond of since visiting France?" Aro said, swishing his wine in his glass in a sophisticated manner. "Ernest Chausson. Brilliant composer. Edward, have you heard of his work?"
Edward shifted, inadvertently pressing himself against my left foot, and his legs clenched, tightening. I wriggled anyway, still making contact with swipes of my big toe. His breath was uneven as he turned his attention to the front of the table, his voice catching in a tangled tone. "I have, but I'm not familiar with his pieces."
"Mm, I'll have to send you a record or two. Le roi Arthus is splendid," said Aro cheerily.
Edward loosened his legs slightly, and he reached down, once again, to shove my foot away, but I was insistent--he shot me another fierce look, but I slid my foot into the crease of his thigh, one of his hot spots, and his face turned a deeper shade of pink. He put his fist to his mouth, doubtlessly suppressing a moan. I smiled and finally drew my feet back, creating one last bit of friction. I was done playing with him, figuring that I'd gotten my point across. Hopefully, he'd learned his lesson, and if by some magical chance he wanted more, he was just going to have to wait until midnight, like he kept telling me.
The second I broke contact, he exhaled sharply and covered his eyes, earning the rest of the table's attention.
"Edward, are you all right?" Carlisle asked, knitting his eyebrows together to match Esme's disquieted expression.
He didn't answer, and as a few seconds passed in silence, I felt the need to kick him. However, one more touch from me probably wasn't quite welcome at the moment.
"Edward?" Aro echoed, looking equally concerned.
Emmett and I shared a knowing glance, and I pressed my lips together, wishing he would suddenly launch into a random conversation about Richard Strauss or Debussy, or even beatniks to turn the attention away from himself--this kind of silence was awkward. However, he edgily ran his hand through his thick hair and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Uncle Aro," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not feeling well. I think I need to lay down. Please, everyone, continue eating."
He got to his feet quickly, conveniently sliding his chair in an angular direction, so that when he stood up, only his back was visible to the others. Esme almost stood with him, but he hastily made his way from the patio to the house in a matter of seconds. I almost giggled. He had to be nursing the most horrific case of blue balls ever, not to mention hiding a raging erection.
As everyone looked around the table with worried glances, except Emmett and myself, I quietly cleared my throat. "I'll go check on him," I said, sliding my feet back into their shoes, and Esme nodded eagerly, looking grateful.
I only imagined that he would head straight for our bedroom, if not the bathroom, to either take care of his man-business and lose the bet, or jump into an icy shower until things were normal again. I did find him in the bathroom, but he was only splashing his face.
"What's wrong, love?" I asked in mock-concern, smiling widely as he snapped his head up, flinging drops of water across the mirror.
"Christ, Bella," he growled, pressing his face into a towel and rounding on me, gripping my shoulders and pushing me back into the bedroom. "What the fuck was that?!"
I grasped his arms, squeezing tightly, unaffected by his harsh tone of voice. He wasn't all the way angry--I could see through his expression. In truth, he was so horny, it was almost ridiculous.
"Oh, you can dish it out, but you can't take it, huh?" I said, tapping his nose with my finger. "You could have stopped me if you really wanted to. You were enjoying that, and don't you dare pretend otherwise."
"Not in front of my family, I wasn't," he hissed, and surprisingly, he lowered his head to my shoulder, panting, sounding as though he'd just finished a triathlon. I glanced down at his pants and noticing that things were still all high and mighty. Damn if I couldn't stop smirking like a proud prom queen--he was putty in my little, seductive hands.
"Should I run downstairs and tell Emmett congratulations?" I asked, trailing my fingers through his hair as he ran his hands down my sides.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, before exhaling shortly. "Yes. He wins. Call him after we--can we please--"
I raised my eyebrows slowly, curiously, and he stopped, staring at me with pleading eyes. "What?" he asked, and I could feel beads of sweat on his neck. Damn, I really had worked him up to a whole new level.
"It's just … what makes you think we are going to do anything?" I asked slyly, watching his zealous expression fade to confusion. "I mean, I thought you could go without this for months?"
He didn't catch the plural of my statement; instead, he just stared at me. His entire guise was comical and almost heartbreaking--he looked as though I just told him I wanted to see other people.
"Really? You want me to beg?" he asked, loosening his grip on my waist. "Are you kidding, or serious?"
"No, I don't want you to beg," I giggled, continuing to comb his hair back with my hands. "I'm not your dominatrix. I'm just telling you what you told me. And you said I'm not supposed to interfere, right?"
His mouth dropped. "You call what you just did downstairs non-interference?!"
"I'm just saying, if you're going to lose this bet, you're going to lose it all by yourself." I unclasped his hands from my hips and pressed them to his chest, tapping my fingers on his knuckles. "You have two hands," I added with a smile, then kissed his cheek.
Edward gaped at me, a strangled laugh thick in his throat, and he took a step back. "Unbelievable," he said, running his hands through his hair, which stuck out from the lingering drops of water. "And you were the one who complained before that I wouldn't do anything with you, much less--"
"Oh, don't even," I interrupted, quickly growing irritated. "You teased me like you would a kitten with string, Mr. Handsy McTouchy-Feely-Behind-the Ficus. Don't pretend like you weren't having fun with all of it, either."
"Jesus, I wasn't having fun just to spite you!" He groaned and crawled onto the bed, shoes and all, and collapsed onto the pillows.
I couldn't help but feel infuriated. "Oh, weren't you? Do you even remember the past two hours, or am I just delusional?!"
He didn't answer me, and I waited to see if he would make a move to put himself out of his blue-ball misery, but he merely wrapped his arms around a pillow and sighed, closing his eyes.
I gazed at him skeptically. "Do you want me to give you some privacy, or--?"
"Just go make an excuse to my family, please," he muttered, not looking at me. "Say I have a headache, and I'll be fine for the party."
A silent minute went by, and I stubbornly stood in place, trying to calm my thoughts. The more I studied him, the more I started feeling a gnawing sense of guilt in my stomach. I could argue all I wanted, but I had done something pretty stupid--and with his family in close proximity, no less, which was completely awkward and weird when I thought about it--and now, he was probably in pain from not receiving the release his body craved. Suddenly, this wasn't funny anymore, and nowhere near entertaining. He looked miserable, and it was all because of me and my copycat teasing.
"Edward, why don't you just go take a shower and get it over with?" I asked quietly. "I mean, honestly, if we, you know … do it, now, it's not going to be fun, it's going to--"
His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Bella, leave me alone, please."
I rubbed my neck, sighing lightly. "What do I tell Emmett, if he asks?"
"The truth," he spat, wiping his forehead. "I gave in. Tell him I'll pay him later."
"I--I can make something up," I offered, biting my lip. "He doesn't have to know that--"
"Just get out, won't you?!" he exclaimed harshly, rolling over until I couldn't see his face.
A cold feeling of shame swept through me at his tone. Edward hadn't yelled at me before--not even once in the six years we'd been together. We'd fought, but he never raised his voice, even when I did. And the first time was because of this--this exasperating, ridiculous bet.
I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, sweeping my fingers over his arm. "Baby, I'm sorry…" I said softly, gently squeezing his shoulder.
"Bella," he growled threateningly, "I said get out. Right now."
I let my hand linger on his warm skin for a few moments more, then got up, walking sulkily to the door.
"I shouldn't have done that," I said, knowing that I was probably just pissing him off further, but I couldn't help it. "I was mad about this morning. Emmett said you wanted to go without all this for two months, instead--that he had to convince you to just make it one. Did you remember we would have been on vacation if you had agreed to two?"
He didn't answer, or look at me.
"And then in the car…" I shrugged, even though he couldn't see me. I felt like an idiot, not even sure what I was trying to explain. "It felt like the first time you ever touched me like that. I … I just got caught up. Then, when you stopped, I--"
He suddenly sat up, wincing and hissing under his breath, and glared at me. "What don't you understand about the words, 'Get. Out. Of. This. Room?'"
I blushed fiercely, feeling my stomach churn as I turned away, tears brimming on the cusp of my eyelashes. My mind swirled, wondering if he was really that angry with me, all because of sex--or lack thereof. I didn't want to cry in front of him, but I wasn't about to go outside and be pink-eyed and puffy in front of his family, either.
"Bella," he continued, his voice full of exasperation, "did you honestly think it was funny to--"
"Did you think it was funny to mock me in front of Carlisle?" The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Was it funny to tease me downstairs, when your family was right outside?" I demanded. "How about when you tossed me off of you in the car like my feelings didn't matter? Oh, yes, that's right. You laughed your ass off."
"I--"
"And I'm sure it was hysterical when you bragged that you could do this for two months," I said sarcastically. "You know, maybe right before midnight, you can have a drink with Emmett and renew this little bet. Have your two months. In fact, make it five months, why don't you? Make it a year! Or is that not enough time away from me, either?"
Choking back a feeble whimper, I blindly reached for my purse and pulled out my checkbook. My hand shook as I wrote, and accidentally tore a small corner as I ripped the slip out of the booklet.
"Here," I said, walking over and thrusting the five-hundred dollar check into his hands. "Here's your money. You win, and so does Emmett. And I lose. Does that make you feel better?"
He stared at me in shock as tears streamed down the planes of my cheeks, and I turned and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind me. The smacking thump echoed down the hallway and I hoped to God that no one outside had heard it. I stopped in one of the bathrooms and carefully wiped under my eyes with a tissue, soaking up the tears and little streaks of mascara, feeling all kinds of emotastic. I had a full five minutes of self-pity and silence, and Edward never came looking for me. I guess I shouldn't have expected him to.
When I looked as normal as I was going to get, I went downstairs and out to the patio, telling a convincing story of Edward not having slept well the night before, and how he was paying for it with a headache--that he just needed to rest. Thankfully, everyone seemed to buy it, but I had a harder time covering for myself.
"What's the matter, Bella?" Esme asked, giving me her all-knowing mommy eyes. Women always knew when something was up, almost like a built-in chip that alerted them to freaky bursts of estrogen and adrenaline. "Your eyes … have you been--"
I felt my cheeks heat, mentally kicking myself for not putting up a better 'happy face.' "Oh, I guess I'm just tired, too," I said quickly, before she could say 'crying.' "I'm going to go sit with Edward for awhile, if that's all right."
"Sure, honey, take as much time as you need," said Esme, tenderly patting my hand while Carlisle and Aro gave me identical, friendly smiles.
"Oh, Emmett," I said, catching him with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Edward wants you for a minute."
Emmett took a large bite of sausage and shrugged. "'Kay," he said obliviously, in the midst of chewing. Normally, I would have laughed, but I was still walking a fine line on the blubbering ledge. I quickly turned to walk inside before my smile could waver any further.
Like a baby duckling, Emmett followed me into the house and up the stairs, and I finally rounded on him, unsure if I wanted to hit him because he had started this whole thing, or because he had goaded me into changing my clothes and riling me up enough to behave like a hussy, or because I was just a mindless twit who had no one to blame but herself.
"What's up?" he asked casually, as if we'd just sat down at a fucking bar.
I clenched my fists and opened my mouth to yell, preparing to go all Lorena Bobbit on his lower half. For a few seconds, I simply stared, agape, and in the next moment, my chin began quivering, and I ended up falling into his chest, clutching at his shirt as I started sobbing.
Immediately, his huge arms were around me, squeezing me tightly. "Bells, what's wrong? What happened? What did he do?"
He let me cry for awhile, rubbing my back, and eventually, I sniffled and released him to wipe my face. So much for make-up preservation. "Will you just go in there and get my suitcase, please? It's the red one. The black duffel bag is mine, too."
"What's going on?" Emmett asked, looking concerned. "Are you guys fighting?"
Duh, jackass.
"I can't go in there," I said quickly, giving him a nudge toward the room. "And you and I are going to be roommates, so I need my bags."
He looked at the door cautiously. "Is he actually sick, or something? Is that why you can't go in? I mean--you think it's contagious?"
"No worries, Em, I'm pretty sure you can't catch assholery," I muttered, rolling my watery eyes.
Emmett ran his fingers through his mop of curly hair. "Oh," he said heavily as the math finally clicked. "Aw, Bella, I'm sorry. Don't worry about it. He'll snap out of it and come crawling to you with stuffed animals and roses, sooner or la--"
"Red and black bags, okay?" I interrupted, biting back another onslaught of tears. "And my dress. Just--he'll tell you what's mine."
I turned around and walked down the hall to Emmett's room, leaving him looking baffled. Once inside, I closed the door and stretched out on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest. I gave a tired glance at the clock and grunted. I had a little less than seven hours before the party started to pull myself together, and it was going to take a lot more than make-up to cover the shame, resentment, and unhappiness that was surely radiating from my face.
After awhile, Emmett came back with my bags and placed them on the floor by the bed, heaving a sigh. He looked at me with slight pity before his eyes widened intensely, and he quickly stared up at the ceiling.
"Um, Bella?"
"What?" I asked, frozen in place, unsure if there was a spider by my shoulder, or something.
"You're, uh … you're still missing your underwear."
I glanced down at my legs and realized that by pulling my knees to my chest, I was flashing him a full view of my cabbage patch, and then some. I yanked down my dress and groaned, mortified, and Emmett flew from the room like someone had lit his ass on fire.
I knew I should have stayed in my khakis.
=:=:=
Yeah, I bring the angst everywhere. Can't help myself. There's still one more chapter. S'all good.
I was searching for pretty houses in the Monterey, CA area and came across this: http://www[dot]architecturaldigest[dot]com/homes/homes/archive/pelli_slideshow_072001?slide=8globalNav so if you want to see the inspiration (well … the exact picture, if I'm being honest) for Carlisle & Esme's house, there you go.
Oh, and if you're wondering what Aro & Bella were blah-blah-blah-whaaa?ing about, they were speaking Czech. No, I'm not fluent, but the internet is a wondrous thing. Here's what they were saying:
Jak se vám líbí, má drahá? Jsi odešla trvalý dojem? -- How did you like it, my dear? Did you leave a lasting impression?
Ono nádherný , být zavázán tebe. A předpokládám, že jsem se - na můj profesor literatury, tak jako tak. Zakopl jsem mu do náruče na první den ve třídě. -- It was beautiful, thank you. And I suppose I did--on my literature professor, anyway. I tripped into his arms on the first day of class.
Thanks for reading, and don't be mad at these two. Sexual frustration will do odd things to you! ;)
