Slightly early update because I felt guilty leaving you guys where I did. Edward is up again.
SarcasticBimbo is my lovely beta.
CHAPTER EIGHT — EDWARD
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"Kiss me, Edward. I dare you."
It's a challenge I never could resist. Not from her.
The first touch of our lips is soft. A light brush, then another. With a little growl, Bella grabs my shirt and yanks me closer, catching my bottom lip with the barest graze of her teeth. I need no further invitation—wrapping my arms tightly around her waist, I crush my lips to hers. I drag my tongue over her bottom lip and she opens to me, letting me savor the taste I've been craving like mad. She curls her legs around my hips, melting into my arms, throwing herself into the kiss.
Every curve and line of her is pressed up against my body, a delicious, full body caress that makes me shiver. I rub my hands up and down her back as her fingers begin their own exploration of my body. They drag slowly down my shoulders, chest, and abs. She slips her tongue into my mouth and we trade kisses: soft and sweet, hard and hot. I hold her tighter, moaning as she wiggles her hips right up against my cock.
Needing more, I break from her mouth and trail kisses over her jaw and down to her neck. I rub my lips over the pulse point there, feeling it race beneath my kiss as I savor the sweet, salty taste of her skin. Bella reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair, pulling me closer. I love the way she lets me know exactly what she wants—it turns me the fuck on, even more than I already am. I want more of her reactions, more directions, more of her body, more of her.
I smooth a hand down her side and back up, grazing the side of her breast.
"Mmm," she hums, arching her back.
I make the same circuit again, this time grazing her nipple. It's a hard pebble beneath my thumb, and I linger, savoring the sounds she makes as I play with her nipple. I lift my head so I can watch her face as I drag my hand down again, then back up, under her shirt this time. Her brown eyes are hazy and her pink, kiss-bruised lips are slightly parted. Her mouth drops open on a gasp when I cup her in my hand, squeezing gently before pulling at her nipple with my thumb and forefinger. I take her mouth, swallowing a whimper as I play with her tits, using both hands to drive her crazy.
She resumes her own exploration of my body, and it's my turn to moan when she lightly drags her fingernails down my chest. For such a soft touch, it packs a punch, lights me on fire. I want my shirt gone, and hers too. I want it all gone—every bit of clothing, every hesitation, every we shouldn't and every I can't. I want the two of us laid bare for each other to explore every single inch of skin.
It seems we share the same thoughts, because Bella grabs the hem of my t-shirt and pushes it up. Breaking the kiss, I draw in a sharp breath as her palms skim my abs. I drop my forehead to hers, and we both watch while she bares my stomach and part of my chest.
"God, Edward," she says, voice husky. "You're just…"
Somewhat self-conscious, I joke, "Underfed?" I miss meals more than I should, due to my schedule. I'm toned, but far from bulky.
"Don't act like you don't know you could pass for a freaking Greek statue." Bella grins up at me and pats my abs. "Nice work, Cullen. What else've you got under there?"
Not one to disappoint, I reach behind my head and pull off the shirt completely. She pretends to wipe drool from the corner of her mouth, and even though it's a joke, it makes me feel like the Greek god she thinks I am.
Like they're magnets and I'm the metal, Bella's hands are glued to my abs and chest, covering every inch of skin in between. She squeezes my shoulders and runs her fingers down my biceps, then back up. She presses a kiss to my collarbone, and I tip my head back, gripping her hips tightly.
"You're killing me here," I grit out, willing my erection not to burst out of my jeans. Logically, I know it's not possible, but the situation down there is downright painful. I need to feel her hands on me.
Bella laughs wickedly and pushes me back far enough so she can slide down from the counter. She drops another kiss on my collarbone … then one over my heart … my abs … lower … until she's on her knees before me. My eyes follow her the whole way.
My mind is so hazy I don't realize what's happening until I feel her fingers at the button of my jeans. I can almost feel her hot breath on my cock, and I fight with everything in me to stay still, stay in control. Bracing my hands on the counter to steady myself, I stare down at the beautiful sight that's been the starring role in many of my fantasies and dreams.
This is not happening. It shouldn't be happening.
"What are you … oh, God … this is…" Fuck, this is happening, I realize, as she pops the button and slowly draws down the zipper. I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation of her touch on my desperate cock, hoping I don't blow it as soon as she takes me out.
But her touch never comes.
Some kind of noise pierces the haze of lust in my head, growing louder and louder, but so does the tantrum in my body. My dick is not happy.
"Shit! Jake is still in the back yard!" Bella pushes me back and hops to her feet, racing for the door and down the steps, leaving me half-dressed with an erection capable of taking down a small building. Yeah, tantrum sounds about right. The idea of throwing myself to the ground, kicking and screaming, sounds pretty damn appealing at the moment.
Sighing in resignation, I hurriedly throw on my shirt and fasten my jeans, then head down to the backyard. Before I can leave the house, Bella meets me on the porch, sporting an expression I can only describe as murderous, yet disgusted.
"What? Is Jake okay?" I ask, puzzled as to why the dog is nowhere to be seen.
"He's fine. That fucker," she growls, marching up the steps and straight to the kitchen. I follow, unsure what the hell is going on. She reaches the cupboard and pulls out a huge box of baking soda. Bending over, she searches the bottom cabinets for something else. I use the time wisely and ogle her ass until she comes up with what looks like a vat of tomato sauce.
"Are we doing a science experiment? Because that looks like one bottle of vinegar away from a really messy homemade volcano," I joke.
Bella is unusually silent, and it makes me uneasy. She seems more mad than worried, so I know Jake isn't hurt, but something is going on. "What is it?"
"He cornered a skunk. I didn't know they even hung out in the city, but of course, Jake would find one. Thank god he's up to date on his rabies shot," Bella mutters, pacing the tiny kitchen.
Eyeing the materials on the counter, I speculate, "I take it this has happened before?" Why buy such large amounts otherwise? Perhaps she really does like to make homemade volcanoes? Or homemade marinara sauce? The marinara option sounds so much better.
"Yeah, once when we stayed with Dad back in Forks. It was awful. We tried tomato juice, but it didn't take all the smell away. I figured we'd start with a baking soda solution this time, and use the tomato sauce as a last resort."
My brows shoot up and the uneasy feeling goes through the roof. "'We'?"
She gives me a look that dares me to argue with her. "Yep."
That's all she says. And that's all it takes—one word and one very intimidating wordless command. The Look. I know that stare; I've seen it all too often on Emmett's face, usually when he's about to drag me into one of his harebrained schemes. Like the time we stole a bust of Abraham Lincoln from our history teacher's classroom and held it for ransom. When we gave it back (sans ransom, unfortunately), we left it at the bottom of Mr. Molina's backyard pool. When we got caught, we spent the summer doing manual labor with historically accurate garden and lawn tools.
Needless to say, I know when I'm beaten. The sad thing is, part of me doesn't mind—I'll be spending more time with Bella, even if it means helping her clean up a very stinky dog.
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"That might be the most disgusting thing I've ever done," I mutter, stripping off my shirt and throwing it down the steps. I toss a dirty look at Jake, who's a wet heap of canine fur in the corner. He looks entirely too happy with himself. Maybe it's because he's the only clean "person" in the room.
"I hear you," Bella agrees. "That smell is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
Her shirt is wet and clinging to her body, but it's streaked with baking soda solution and tomato sauce. But let's be honest—I can look past the skunk shirt if it means I get my own personal wet t-shirt contest. Then that smell hits me all over again.
"God, it's stuck in my nose," I complain, heading to the sink to scrub up like I do at the hospital. Should only take about three million times. "Aren't we supposed to be nose-blind by now? That's what Febreze says."
Bella laughs. "I think so, but obviously, the universe wants us to suffer." She picks up a lock of hair and sniffs it, grimacing. "How the hell did it get in my hair?" she mutters under her breath.
I grab a clean dish towel and lean against the sink as I dry my hands. Her eyes go wandering, from my forearms up to my biceps, shoulders, and finally my bare torso. I chuckle at her glazed over eyes and slightly open mouth.
She shrugs. "Like you don't know you're hot."
"I don't smell hot." I grin.
"Believe me, I know. Neither one of us smells like a bouquet of fresh flowers." She makes a face. "But I do have more baking soda and a decent-sized shower."
I have to put my body on lockdown so it doesn't react to her offer. Because the thought of us in the shower together makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her there immediately. However, what comes out of my mouth is the complete opposite.
"Not a good idea."
Bella visibly deflates, and I hate that I've made her sad.
"Why not?"
"Bella, I just don't think it's a good idea. This … earlier … we shouldn't—"
"Why? I know you enjoyed it. We both did. You can't deny that kind of chemistry."
I tip my head back in frustration, mostly at myself. "Emmett, that's why. He'd beat me to a pulp for touching you."
"You already touched me! Why stop now? If you're going to hell, you might as well do it thoroughly."
I can't help the small smile pulling at my lips. "Persistent little thing."
"I'm so persistent. I'll haunt your dreams." She crosses the room and puts a hand on my arm.
"You already do," I murmur.
"It's only fair then. You've been haunting mine for years."
In spite of the stink, I wrap my arms around her, drawing her close. "What if this ends badly? We have a lot to lose," I say, resting my cheek on her wet hair. "Are you sure you're willing to risk it?"
"Absolutely," she insists. There's no hesitation. "We have a lot to gain." She tucks her cheek against my chest and I know she can feel my heart racing.
"We do," I admit, and it's freeing. We're going to do this, and it feels so much more natural than the denial I've wallowed in for the last weeks. Pulling back, I lift her face to look at me. I place a gentle, chaste kiss on her lips, which quickly turns into something much more hot and dirty.
Speaking of dirty…
I lift my mouth from hers and say, "As much as I'd love to keep this up, we both smell like Pepé Le Pew."
Giggling, she takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom. "You, shower. Hand me your jeans." She holds out a hand, waiting for me to strip.
I don't even question her, just shuck them off and hand them over. Hopefully my boxers escaped the skunking, because I can't trust myself to be naked and in the same vicinity as Bella.
"Have a shower. I'll wash your clothes and get you some baking soda."
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Freshly showered, we're settled on the couch, watching a stand-up comedian on Netflix. Bella found another couple of those ancient t-shirts, which we're wearing now. I don't look nearly as sexy as she does in a t-shirt and underwear, but she doesn't seem to care. Her body is curled into my side, and I can feel every laugh in addition to the sweet sound of her giggles. She's warm and soft and totally relaxed, and I could sit here like this for days.
The dryer goes off about the same time the show is over. Bella starts to get up, but I pull her down to my lap for a quick kiss.
"You sit. I'll get them." I kiss her again, this time not so quickly. How I ever got by without kissing her whenever I want is beyond comprehension.
"You can stay, you know," she says when I finally release her mouth.
I drop my forehead to hers with a smile. "No, I can't. If I stay, we won't leave your bed for days."
"And that's bad?"
"No, not bad. Just … not yet."
She pulls back. "Why not?"
I draw her back to me. "I want to do this right. You're worth the wait, and I'm not going to rush things."
She's quiet for a bit, sizing me up. "You're not … you're not like a born again virgin, are you?"
I laugh so loud it startles Jake, who scrambles to his feet in the corner, a ball of frizzy, damp dog. He trots over to investigate, licks my toes, then Bella's, and goes back to his bed.
"Bella, I promise you, when the time is right, I'm going to fuck you six ways from Sunday."
Her eyes go wide, and then she grins. "That's the kind of promise I can get behind."
I waggle my brows. "I can get behind it, too." My hand goes right to her ass, squeezing playfully.
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-x-
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We don't get much time together, between her classes and my grueling schedule. I'm working extra shifts to make up for the time off I'm taking for the Vegas trip in a week. We carve out a little time here and there, meet for lunch a couple times, and I pass out on her couch one afternoon during a Parks and Rec binge. It's a good thing we've known each other for years, or we might not be able to get to know each other at all. We, however, fall into coupledom easily—we know each other's quirks, our likes and dislikes, and share a sense of humor. The only things not going our way are time together and the secret nature of our relationship.
I still have no idea what will happen when Emmett finds out about Bella and me, but the uncertainty isn't enough to stop me. What I feel when I'm with her … it's like nothing else.
She feels like home, and I won't give her up.
Today is one of those days that feels like I'm the only anesthesiologist in the entire hospital. I barely have time to breathe, but whenever I do get a break, I'm texting Bella, or she's texting me. It's our primary form of communication at the moment.
My phone buzzes with her latest text, and I grin before even reading it.
How many doctors does it take to change a light bulb?
I respond with: None. LED bulbs last 15+ years.
Bella shoots back: You're half right. Correct answer is: None. They'd call a nurse to do it for them.
I snort a laugh. Funny. Not me. I'm a hands-on kind of doctor.
I don't realize how that reads until I've already hit send. Of course, Bella doesn't miss that kind of opportunity.
I'd like your hands on me, Doctor.
Stifling a groan, I have to make an adjustment in my scrubs. Good thing I'm alone in the on-call room, because there's no hiding a semi in these things.
You can't say things like that. Not while I'm working, anyway. Any other time, please, feel free.
She doesn't stop. I'd like you to feel me freely.
Even through my laughter, I can't help but picture her body, feeling it under my hands, and my semi rapidly grows.
Believe me. I'd like to feel you freely.
Come over after your shift. I don't have class tomorrow.
It sounds like heaven, but I don't want to keep her up. I'm not out till midnight. You sure?
Her reply is lightning quick. Are you nuts? YES.
I grin. I'll feel you later, then.
I can't wait ;), she replies.
My face practically aches from grinning. I can't wait, either.
Later, she greets me at the bottom of her stairs and throws herself into my arms. I kiss her like it's been months since I saw her last. It's only been a couple of days, but the more time we spend apart, the more desperate we become. I walk her backwards up the steps, my hands on her hips, slowly making progress as we kiss. When we reach the top, I pivot and press her into the wall, lifting her up level with my mouth.
"Well, hello there, Doctor," she purrs.
"Hello, Ms. Swan. How are we feeling today?" I ask with a grin, which she returns brightly.
"Frisky. So please, frisk me."
Laughing, I pinch her side. "Wrong profession. Also, terrible joke."
"I couldn't resist."
"You know what I can't resist?"
She shakes her head, with a wicked smile.
"You."
"Then kiss me already," she whispers, eyes going dark and liquid.
I crush my mouth to hers and moan as her tongue swirls with mine. Shoving my thigh between her legs, I push against her. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I cup her ass in both hands, pulling her into me. My dick is steel-hard, begging to be let loose, but I know it's not the right time, not yet. Right now, we can have this.
I kiss a line down her neck, nuzzling the tops of her tits through her tank top. Lower, I thrust as if I'm inside her, nice and slow, loving the sounds she makes. Her heat is scorching even through two layers of fabric, and I'm afraid I might lose it like some teenage boy. Trying to hold out longer, I step up my efforts to make Bella come. I squeeze her ass and slide one hand up to cup a breast, rubbing my thumb over her hard nipple. Her hands are in my hair, clenched in fists. Pushing her breast up, I yank her top down with my teeth, baring her to me. I take her in my mouth, licking and sucking and nibbling.
Bella lets go of my hair, moving to gripping at my shoulders as her hips meet mine. She nips at my earlobe and half-moans, "Feels so good … don't stop."
I pull away from her breast and look her in the eyes. "Not until you come."
She nods, biting her lip. Her eyes drift closed as I add a swivel to my hips, and I know it's just what she needs. I place my lips at her ear and whisper, "You're close, aren't you, love?" I pinch her nipple and she cries out, her whole body going stiff as she moans my name.
That's all it takes for me, too. I'm coming in my pants like a teenager, and it's better than anything I've ever had before. Everything with her is better, and there's only one explanation.
I'm falling for her.
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So... finally, right?
Thanks so much to SarcasticBimbo for featuring this story on her blog, Smut Sluts and Angst Whores (smutslutsandangstwhores . blogspot . com). If you want to laugh a lot and get good fic recs, check it out!
See you Wednesday!