Happy Thanksgiving to my friends from the US! Very, very special thanks to Nancy, who betaed this chapter for us TODAY.

Loopylou rocks, 'cause she's the most supportive pre-reader; SM owns the original characters.

Chapter 17

Edward's POV

"Now, what, Jasper? What's going to become of us?"

"Nothing, I guess. But first things first, Edward." The pad of his forefinger draws a line along my lower lip, and he stares at my mouth. "Before we part, I want to see those lips wrapped around my cock, and then I can die a happy man."

I'm puzzled and speechless at first, but the idea gradually sinks in; I'm okay with it. I do want to give him that blowjob. No, wait, I crave it.

"I don't want you to die."

"Yeah, that can wait," he smiles, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. Their blue, actually, reminds of stormy weather. "Some other things need immediate attention. For example, will you please check if you broke my ribs? Still hurts like a bitch."

It has to be simple - I have to remove the blanket from us both and carry out a basic palpatory examination. Why am I scared shitless then?

'Cause, one, he's all naked down there, and, two, I might have indeed broken a rib, that's why.

"Why are you suddenly hesitant, Edward? You've done this many times," he says with a smirk.

Ah, he's probably hinting at me stealing a glimpse or two while he was unconscious. The sneaky bastard.

"Ha ha. Not funny. You were so tempting, Jasper."

"Oh, but… I meant you examined me many times, as my doctor!" But he's still smirking.

Shit, I love this man, and his smirk, and the ocean blue of his now sparkling eyes.

I'm in deep shit. Fuck my life.

"Fine, whatever. Here, let me help you turn and lay on your back."

Away goes the blanket, and I'm on my knees next to him on the bed. He's absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous, even though his skin is marred with bruises all over his chest.

"Breathe," I say, not sure if I'm talking to him or to myself, because I, too, have respiratory issues right now. "Tell me if it hurts when you inhale deeply."

He tries. His forehead wrinkles, but I hear a nice, loud breath. Lungs are not injured, I register.

"Hurts," he grunts. "Told you."

My practice has taught me to be fast with this sort of examination. I run my fingers along each of the bruises quickly, and he pants and purses his lips. Thank god, I don't come upon anything troubling.

"No, you're okay. Only bruises. Just don't get used to shallow breathing."

"Will I be okay soon?"

"You have to be extra cautious for the next three to four weeks, but you'll be able to move freely in a couple of days… Look, I'm sorry for hurting you."

"You can always kiss the pain away, Edward." He beams; can he really be so forgiving?

"What… you mean, now?" I can't be sure what he wants from me.

"Why not, Edward? Are there any contra-indications about being kissed in my condition?"

"No, not really."

And I bend, slowly, placing my palms on the pillow on both sides of his head for leverage. I close my eyes and bend further. The tips of our noses meet, I shake my head slightly, and they rub gently. A tiny electrical spark startles us both, and we freeze and wait for the tension to discharge.

In the next moment, I lose it.

I don't know if you'd call this a kiss; it's more like vigorously smashing my lips against his. Anxiousness rules the assault against the barrier of soft, velvety flesh, until I reach inside the moisture of his mouth. My tongue is uncontrolled and seeking, desperate to meet resistance. And finally, his tongue meets mine – it's poking, swirling, and demanding.

I feel his palm at the nape of my neck, his nails mildly scraping my scalp. Something crawls inside me, low under my stomach, trying to reach out, leaving me aware of the fact I'm very, very aroused and craving contact. I also know the thing bothering me from the inside is not only need, or lust; it's my love for Jasper – and I don't want to lose it. I don't want to lose him.

I break the kiss and lift my head, because it's impossible to fight the urge to look at him, at his angelic face with those millions of eyelashes, and at his athletic, statuesque build.

He's the most beautiful creation I've ever laid my eyes upon.

I've always adored the smoothness of his skin, but right now, it resembles silk and is even smoother. I realize he can use a bath more often now, and possibly a balm or a lotion all over his body. His long legs are shaved.

God, I love him.

A frenzy begins. I want to be everywhere. I lick and kiss his neck, his shoulders, and around the bruises on his chest. I devour him, delaying the moment when my lips will make contact with his cock. I see it throbbing in my peripheral vision. Anticipating the moment, I delicately approach his navel with my tongue, and prepare my will not to let me ejaculate before I give him his deserved pleasure.

Initially, I don't recognize the knock on the door. It takes me a few moments to acknowledge the sound, and when I realize the door is not even locked, panic takes over.

I'll be damned, how embarrassing. Shit, shit, shit…

The knocking doesn't stop, and is now combined with a stranger's voice.

"Are you in there? Jasper? Please, open up, I need to speak with you. Jasper!"

I hear them try the handle.

I'd forgotten how evil Fate tends to be toward me.

Way to go, bitch. Choosing your timing perfectly.

The panic reaches new heights when the door opens, and inside steps a young man I've never seen before, his face still oddly familiar.

Jasper grabs at the blanket somehow. Hissing under his nose, he covers himself using one hand and pushes me away with the other.

"Edward," he leaves my name hanging in the air.

The newcomer's voice is louder though. "Jasper-" he starts, but then it hits me-I've seen his face in Chief Swan's office.

"Riley Biers," I shriek.

"I can't imagine how you know my name, sir, but that would be Agent Biers for you. Now, I need to talk to Mister Hale, if you don't mind."