Welcome to the continuation of my one-shot, Guilty As Sin, written for the Taste of the Forbidden Contest II. The remainder of the story will be told from Bella's POV. See you at the bottom!
~SIN 2~
MAKE ANOTHER TRIP, her mother's voice rings in her ear. As usual, Bella disregards the maternal advice—even easier when Renee isn't actually there— and tucks the 24-pack of water bottles under her arm as she distributes the weight of the rest of the groceries as evenly as possible. Pushing through the garage door into the house, she hears Justin Timberlake's processed voice ringing from the depths of her purse.
Dirty babe...
She dips carefully to set the bags safely on the floor.
You see these shackles, baby, I'm your slave...
She hoists the water bottles up onto the counter.
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave...
She tosses her purse into the corner and digs for the phone in a frenzy, aware she only has until, "It's just that no one makes me feel this way," before her voice mail picks up. She knows before she presses the answer button that it's the school nurse calling. Benjamin finally went back to school after an entire week home with the flu, and this is his first day back.
Breathless, Bella answers, "Hello?"
"Hello." A man's voice. So...not the school nurse.
"Who is this?" Bella pulls the phone away from her face to check the number. Unknown Caller.
"Is this Bella?"
She's starting to get a little freaked out. "Yes, this is Bella. You called me. You're supposed to announce yourself. That's how this works."
"I'm sorry...it's Edward."
Her mind races. Not Angela's piano teacher. Not Benjamin's karate teacher. Edward, Edward...one of her...oh my God.
That Edward?
She passes the phone from one ear to the other in a frantic dance to peel off her coat. Untangled at last, she plunks herself down into one of the kitchen chairs and wills her heart to stop racing.
She teases him in a pseudo-domme voice to mask her nerves. "Edward, I thought I told you not to keep me waiting."
"I called you as soon as I could." His admission tumbles out in a strangled apology.
Bella doesn't need a calculator to do the math. It was a year and a half ago the jackass dragged her back into court for the custody hearing. It had been torture enough after she'd first met the judge at their divorce, but what man wouldn't have looked good to her compared to her asshat of a deadbeat husband? As time went on, her feelings for Judge Cullen had grown, but she told herself she was being foolish, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and hell—what did she really know about the man anyway? Beyond that he was smart and fair and gentle and kind and beautiful, so damn beautiful. Seeing him again at the custody hearing had stoked the fire beyond the point where it could be ignored, and after her visit to his chambers...
Days turned into weeks turned into eighteen months, and she'd long ago given up hope of the judge contacting her again. She'd told her wounded pride that it had just been a business transaction, but she and her pride had never quite come to terms, and she dared not ask her heart to weigh in.
His words worm their way in. She reaches back in time, and a hot blush accompanies the memory of her brazen efforts to keep her children. Had he been attached to someone? MARRIED? Frankly, the thought hadn't even occurred to her once she'd seen the opening, seen the way he responded to the testimonials. Shame washes over her anew. What has she done to his life?
"Actually," he was confessing now, "it's more like I held out until I couldn't stand it any longer." His anguish turns her inside-out, but she can't deny that his desperation ignites her.
"You sound like you're waging quite the internal war."
He chuffs, and his voice becomes more intimate. "I gave up on that war when you knocked down my door," he offers. Bella's face heats up again in the privacy of her kitchen. That move was pretty bold, even for her.
"Then why did you torture yourself..." and me "for so long?"
"Your kids and my job." His answer is so matter-of-fact, it embarrasses her that she hadn't seen it sooner. Unaccustomed as she was to meeting truly upstanding citizens, the judge runs roughshod on her poor opinion of the male of the species in general and men with power specifically.
She notices there was no mention of a wife, and she breathes a small sigh of relief—at least she's not a home wrecker. Still, how much had he risked by contacting her again and what about her own situation?
"What exactly are the ramifications of our meeting again, ex parte?"
"Are you trying to dazzle me with your Latin, Ms. Swan?"
He's nervous, reverting to calling her that. "Just wanted you to know I was paying attention."
"I never doubted that. The technical answer is, your case is closed. Officially," he sighs loudly into the phone, "it's not illegal for us to meet."
"But...?"
"Considering...the circumstances, there's always the appearance of impropriety—speculation as to whether things were on the up and up when I made my ruling."
The weight of the risk forces Bella back into her chair. She wouldn't lose her children. "I understand."
He must hear her dejection. "I've taken every precaution. I've purchased an untraceable cell—or so my expert friend tells me."
"Okay," she answers cautiously. He's made his move, and she at least owes it to both of them to hear him out.
"Are you well? How are the kids?" he asks. What other man calling for the reason he is calling has ever asked after her, let alone the kids?
"We're doing great, thank you. All getting along just fine." It occurs to her in one terrifying moment he was just making a "house call," following up on the business end of things, checking to make sure he'd made the right decision. Then she remembers the untraceable phone.
"That's good, Bella. Really good."
Poor guy, he's stalling now. God only knows how long it has taken him to get up his nerve, and now he is floundering. She's seen it before, but this time, her heart twists in her chest. She'd waited a long time for him, and then she'd given up. Now that he's reached out, she isn't sure she could handle it if they don't follow through. It had to come from him, though. She wouldn't push.
"And how are you?"
He chuckles lightly. "Chicken shit, apparently."
Elation washes over her with his admission. It is out there—why he's called—and there's no turning back.
"I think it's pretty brave that you called me."
"Yeah?" His voice becomes timid, respectful.
"I just can't figure out if you're more scared of me or the repercussions of getting found out."
He laughs this time, and she can see his dazzling smile right through the phone. "A little of both, to be honest."
Honest he is; in fact, it is one of his very best qualities. At the same time, his fear of discovery rocks her.
Edward seems to gain conviction as defeat is closing in on her. "I'd really like to see you."
"Not here." The words push forth from her very core. She hadn't felt comfortable inviting a man to her home since learning that Jake had planted those hidden cameras outside.
"Of course," he agrees, "wherever you say."
Her mind is racing. There is no one of consequence on her schedule; that isn't the problem. It is her children. She has the hours free while the kids are at school, minus some errands and appointments, and then she remembers the fair is in town this weekend.
"Jake has the kids on Saturday. They'll be gone most of the day. Is that too soon for you?"
"No, Bella," he laughs, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. His need fuels her own.
"Don't worry; we'll find a secure location," she assures him. "Besides...Edward," she purrs, modulating her voice for his benefit, "I don't need handcuffs or whips to dominate you."
He draws a deep, shuddering breath, and she hears every ripple of air leaving his lungs. "No, I believe you just proved that."
Bella sits for a moment and basks in the singular pleasure of arousing him, like a sated cat lapping up the last of its milk.
"Can you give me three hours at ten a.m.?"
"Saturday morning?"
She bites back a smile. Daylight domination is that much more sinful. "You have a problem with that?"
"No, of course not." His voice is tight, but it is a good kind of tension, the sort she wants him to feel.
"I can reach you on this phone number?"
"Yes."
"Very well. I'll call you an hour before and tell you where to meet me. In the meantime, I want you to fill out a checklist, and we'll talk about it when we're together. I'll send you the link."
"Yes, Mis—yes, thank you," he finishes anxiously.
"Edward," she says, losing the officious tone, "I'm so glad you called."
He breathes a deep sigh of relief into the phone. "Me, too."
A/N: I MISSED you guys! YOU, the readers! Decided I had to get back over to fanfic and reconnect. My plan is to post weekly. Come talk to me...tell me everything.
So much love to Alterite for prodding me on (I mean, gently encouraging me) and proving to be the most wonderful sounding board with plot and character development. Not only could I not have done it without her, I really WOULD not have done it without her! Merci et bisous, A! Never, ever forget my sweet, amazing beta-with whom I got to have an actual FACE-TO-FACE conversation about this story (among other topics of interest)- the wonderful Chayasara. Todah rabah! Tackle hugs to my secret weapon, Shellshock, because she's so good at those, as well as giving me all the best advice straight from the heart. I have the best team around and love you guys!
I do believe that covers it...until next time, MWAH! xx ~BOH