CHAPTER SEVEN
Bella:
I am on my knees kneeling down in front of Edward. His cock is halfway in my mouth and my lips are coated in melting cream. Edward's fingers are tangled in my hair and he is restraining himself from thrusting into my mouth completely.
I hear the telltale sound of keys being inserted into a lock and the click as they turn. My hands fly to Edward's naked hips to hold him still. My ears strain over the loud words of AC/DC. A door opens and I hear the sound of high heels click across the hardwood floors. Edward is looking down at me with a face that tells me he can't work out why I've stopped and removed him from my mouth.
"Hello, anybody home?"
Shit!
The voice belongs to Esme. Edward's mother is in the house, looking for us while I blow her son, who is also covered in whipped cream. Edward looks down at me in horror and I lick the cream off my lips. I look at his peen, still half covered in cream, but now at half mast.
I suppose hearing your mother's voice would deflate anyone.
We can both hear Esme moving around the living room. I think she's found the place cards. I hear her bags drop to the ground and her keys set on the wooden coffee table.
"Edward!" she calls, "Bella!" Her clicking heels move and the music is turned off. "Kids!"
Edward is running his hand through his hair and I am frozen. This does not look good. We just decided to cool our relationship and I am going to get caught blowing him by his mother.
Double shit with a cherry on top!
Cherry, hmm...
Now's not the time.
But next time...
Without giving it another thought I scamper out the back door of the kitchen on my hands and knees, trying to keep a low profile. I abandon Edward and never once look back. I pass through the laundry room and find myself at the downstairs bathroom. I enter quietly and lock the door behind me.
I catch my breath and look at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my hair isn't as smooth as it was before Edward started scrunching it in his man hands. I try to flatten it but just pull out an elastic band and tie it into a huge knot on top of my head.
I flush the toilet for extra measure and then rinse my face. It's a little too flushed for my liking. The mixture of almost post-coital/adrenaline rush from performing sexual acts in a family kitchen has coated my cheeks in pink and made my eyes shine. I turn off the tap and take a deep breath. It's time to start the performance of my life.
I exit the bathroom loudly and make my way through to the living room. I catch Esme's heels as she turns the corner into the kitchen.
"Edward?" Her voice is surprised. I follow her and stop short. Edward obviously hasn't moved much since I made my get away. His shirt is still on the floor, but there are no traces of chocolate on his chest, most likely because of my mad tongue skills. I can't see, because of the bench height, but I am unsure if he has had the initiative to do up his pants.
"Son, where is your shirt?" Esme is confused.
"On the floor." He answers smoothly and calmly and even points to his t-shirt on the ground.
"Ok." Esme bends and picks it up. She hands it to him and he slips it over his head. She still doesn't know that I'm behind her. "Why was it on the floor?" she asks.
"Well, I was thinking of finishing the cupcakes Bella started making." He looks me in the eyes. Esme turns and I mask my face with a scowl.
"What do you think you're doing?" I ask in an even tone. I don't want to start off too harsh. With an exasperated sigh I turn to Esme and I smile sadly. "I go to the bathroom for one second and rock music is blasting out of the stereo and he's attempting to ruin my cupcakes."
I move around to the side of the bench that Edward is standing behind and quickly look down. Everything is in place. Pants are up and zipper is, too. Unconsciously, I place a hand over my rapidly beating heart in relief because he still isn't standing there with a cream covered cock. I see Esme watching us so I lean into my cupcakes and say, "he hasn't ruined them." I remove my hand from my chest.
"Hey! I resent that."
I don't know if Edward has caught onto my game yet or not.
Esme breaks free from the confusion and laughs. "Edward used to love to make me breakfast on Mother's Day. Every Mother's Day I would receive a stack of pancakes. The first two years I let it go because he was young, but when there was no sign of improvement I would make pancakes the night before and have Carlisle reheat them and switch them in the morning."
I break into laughter, mixed with snorting while Edward stood aghast in the kitchen. "You never told me that." My laughter gets worse when Esme places her hand over her son's and pats it sympathetically.
"Why do you think your father asked you every year to go and pick flowers out of the garden?"
Edward folds his arms, I almost expect him to stomp his foot and run away. He looks at me. "Dad always told me that she liked the wildflowers that grew by the road. He made me walk up our long-ass driveway and pick the weeds by the side of the road." Ignoring his mother's admonishment for his language he turns to her and says, "A garden full of roses and gardenias and you wanted wildflowers?"
"I'm really sorry, Edward." She is biting her lip to refrain from laughing.
"Screw you all. You," he points at me, "finish the place cards yourself."
"Edward," calls Esme. It's weak and we both know that he is holding no hard feelings. Esme shrugs. "He'll get over it and then he'll apologise."
"Have you seen the place cards?" I ask, pretending that I had not heard her heels click across the floor.
"Briefly." She follows me into the living room and we take a seat on the couch.
She inspects them and smiles, "Alice is going to love these." I blush. "How was Edward with helping?"
I sigh and hang my head a little. I reconsider my next words and consider not even saying them. Truthfully, Edward helping with the place cards was easy. We worked well together. His complaints mainly consisted of the colour and how eighty-six is considered a small wedding.
And then this afternoon, he comforted me. He didn't ask questions, which made me want to cry even more. He didn't press me into telling him that the relationship with my mother was a bad one or ask if she left or why. He just held me and then kissed me so softly it made my toes curl.
I blush slightly but remember that my head is hanging so she won't notice. "Edward was... alright," I answer.
"Oh."
I feel guilty. His mother is going to think that she has raised a bad son. I stumble to correct myself.
"It's just... like cooking; Edward hasn't a creative bone in his body." Esme's eyes flicker to a wall where a beautiful photograph of a yellow and purple field is hanging. I blush again. Edward's a photographer. "Sorry," I correct myself, "I mean, fiddly things, like measuring or say, sliding purple ribbons up a white piece of cardboard," I hold up a spare ribbon, "he just gets frustrated easily."
Esme smiles softly and I want to know what she is thinking. She's not saying anything. I fiddle with the ribbon in my hand.
"He didn't complain... much, but he just frustrates me." This is true. The frustration might be sexual, but Esme need not know that.
"Don't worry about it. All men frustrate women." She taps my knee and winks. "It's something you will have to live with."
I am worried about Esme. I don't get the feeling that she just means the current living arrangement. I wouldn't put it past her to be trying to hook us up. If that is true, and she is trying, then Edward and I have a whole other game we need to start playing.
She helps me finalise the place cards. She doesn't make any more strange comments about Edward or me or anything I might have to 'live' with in the near or far future.
I don't see Edward for the rest of the day. Dinner is a 'fend for yourself' situation and he is in bed by the time I crawl upstairs. I slip into bed and fall asleep feeling a little more lonely than I had this morning.
...
I stumble out of bed the next morning and make my way to the bathroom. Spots are obscuring my vision as I wait for my head rush to fade and I don't even try to stifle the enormous yawn that escapes my mouth as I turn the door handle. I rub my eyes, yawn and wonder why the shower is running.
Removing my hand from my eyes I cover my mouth. "Shit!" I stumble over my words, "Edward, I am so, so sorry." I don't move to back out of the room though. Instead I take in his naked, wet form through the shower glass. Even though I've seen him naked this image before me takes me back to the very first time.
His long fingers run through his wet, unruly hair and the water trickles down over his broad shoulders, down his strong back and over his perfectly sculptured ass. Then he turns and I ogle his front. His hand clears the fog and water from the glass and he looks at me in bewilderment. His lips move and I just want to bite them as I run my eyes over his washboard abdominal muscles, that trail of hair and those V shaped muscles that my...
"BELLA!" I look up from my happy place to see Edward smirking.
I flush red. "Sorry."
He just rolls his eyes and says, "Get in here."
I don't need to be told twice. I shed my clothes and practically leap into the shower. I am nestled in his warm embrace as the hot water falls rhythmically down my back. His arms are wrapped around me holding my body close to him. I couldn't escape if I wanted too. I lay my cheek against his chest tentatively. I am unsure at first. This seems too intimate, but he doesn't stiffen so I think I am in the all clear.
I don't know how long we stand there. It is too long, yet not long enough. The water remains hot.
"Would you like me to wash your hair?" Edward asks.
It is too intimate. We shouldn't do this. I nod. "Sure."
He reaches behind me and grabs my shampoo. He pours a small circle in his hand and then lathers up my locks. This is too intimate. His fingers carefully massage my scalp and then wash out the shampoo.
"Were you mad at me?" I ask. The words slip from my mouth and I am unsure why. His fingers don't hesitate in their treatment.
"No, I am sorry if you felt that way," he murmurs.
"I don't know why I asked," I mumble. His green eyes lock mine and I realise this is the first time he has looked me in the eyes and held mine since I woke up.
"You asked because the last time you saw me I was storming out of the room." His tone doesn't inflict anger or even passion, to him it was just a statement, but to me this feels again too intimate. Feelings ruin everything.
"I'm sorry," I turn and grab my shower poof and pour my shower gel on it. I start to wash my arms and torso.
Edward turns me and my eyes lock with his again. I feel like I am looking into Edward. "Don't apologise, you can't help what you..." he stops suddenly and I know he was going to use the word feel. The word is too intimate. He continues, "I know you were playing the game, Bella." I let the water run the soap away.
He takes my shower poof and runs the soap over his arms and body. He pauses and swiftly brings it up to his nose. He sniffs and I know I am staring at him, questioning him.
"Vanilla... my toothbrush, it smelt like vanilla." I giggle and step out of the shower leaving a confused man behind. I wrap a towel around me and begin to brush my teeth.
I can hear Edward finishing up quickly before he turns the shower off. He steps out, wet and dripping, and looks around. I turn and spit into the sink so I can hide my smile.
"You stole my towel," he accuses. I rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth with water and turn back around. He's just standing there with his hands on his hips, naked and still dripping wet.
"What are you doing?" My voice quivers slightly as he takes a step towards me and heat floods me.
"I want my towel."
"Go get your own towel," I suggest but he continues stalking towards me.
I duck past him and open the door to the linen cupboard. I pull the string and turn the light on. Edward follows me.
"I seem to remember the last time we were in here you were the wet one." He smirks at me and I return it with one of my own.
"Who's to say that I'm not now?" I ask and drop my towel and leisurely run one finger slowly down my chest, over my erect nipple, down my stomach and over my pubic bone. Edward is right in front of me by now. I dip one finger between my legs, circle my clitoris and the stroke my slit. I extract my finger and hold it up to Edward's face.
He grabs my wrist and sucks my finger, biting the pad, then kisses me hard on the mouth. It's nothing like the kiss we had yesterday. It's rough and hard and brings me deeper and closer to Edward. It fuels my arousal and Edward's.
He turns me and my back is pressed up against wooden shelf slats and fluffy towels.
"Oh wet girl," he whispers. His head ducks down to my chest and I writher and his tongue swirls. His left hand leaves my body and searches the towels to my right. He pulls some out and digs his hand under others. He finds what he is looking for because I feel his lips turn up into a smile on my neck.
In his hand is a condom.
"What... ah, why?" His hand has ducked down my body and his finger is rubbing my clit. He kisses me roughly before ripping the foil packet open with his teeth.
He rolls it on himself, pumping twice, as he continues his ministrations on my clit. I am getting closer. "Uh... no!" he pulls his fingers away and places his hands on my hips.
"I've wanted to fuck you in here since I first felt your hot, wet, tight body lying across mine," he whispers roughly in my ear.
"Oh, God! Edward!"
"You ready?" I nod and his hands pick me up before he impales me on his hard self. My legs automatically wrap around him, my heels digging into his buttocks, pulling him deeper with each thrust.
"Yes!" I hiss and place my hands on his shoulders for leverage. It's rough. I pull him closer to me and he pushes harder and deeper into me. He's pressing me into the wooden shelf behind me with such strength that it creates pain, but a pain that is too good to be real. I want more, I need more, so I let it overtake me.
I bury my head in his neck as he plunges in and out of me. He smells like me, like vanilla, but much more masculine too. I want to taste him. I lick up his neck and around the shell of his ear and then I suck on his earlobe. "Ugh... Bella," he grunts.
I pull his hair and he kisses me sloppily. Our teeth gnash and I bite his lower lips hard. He pulls his head back slowly and my teeth drag along his bottom lip tightly, almost, but not, breaking the skin. He ducks his head and marks my right breast just above my areola. He bites my nipple and he moves harder and faster.
The wood behind me is digging in so deep I am sure that there will be a bruise but I don't care. I am close. I urge him harder and faster and deeper.
"Yes! More." He gives me what I want. He is close, he is there but he is holding off because he knows I am almost there, too. I touch myself. I rub my clit and then touch where we are joined. He can't take that and he impossibly grows before exploding. He is what I need and I come undone around him.
He rests his sweaty forehead on my sweaty shoulder and breathes deeply.
"Thanks." I let my shaky legs find the floor.
"Anytime." He grins.
"Come again." I smile back before I find my towel and wobble back to my room to rest my quivering muscles to get dressed for the day.
I eventually get dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and throw my wet hair into a messy bun. I make my way down the stairs and enter the kitchen. Edward's back is to me.
"It was horrible, Alice. She is almost as controlling as you." I know he is talking about me, but I don't let it get to me. I can't let my feelings get in the way. I can't let this situation get too intimate.
I roll my eyes and glare at his back. "Well, if someone would've done it correctly the first time then we wouldn't have had a problem."
"Anyway..." Alice says with a huge sigh and I have the feeling he has been bugging her since he came downstairs this morning.
Alice looks up at me with an apologetic smile. "I see you're both dressed and ready."
"Hard to believe, right?" Edward sneers, "We're lucky there was hot water left after your long shower." He eyes me down.
I glare back at him. "Right, Mr 'Exfoliate and Moisturise', all I wanted was to brush my teeth, but I had to wait for you to finish your girly rituals."
"They're not girly." He turns his back on me and I head for the coffee pot. "Alice, if you give me another assignment with that girl I may not be in your wedding."
Alice rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, you're just having a bad day, and besides you're both, like, the first assistants of this wedding, so deal with each other."
"I can't believe you would miss Alice's wedding just because your pansy ass can't deal with a girl," I tell him and he stalks up next to me and grabs the coffee pot roughly.
"I wouldn't be at the wedding, because I'd be in jail, for, like, assault or something." He's losing it. His facade is crumbling. This is hurting him.
I take a step back because he is too close. His scent is confusing my senses. I bump into the pantry doorhandle.
"Ouch," I whisper and I know I bumped the part of my back which was backed up against the linen shelves. Edward doesn't know this. His eyes widen in fear and his mouth opens. I stare at him as I watch him flounder, torn between concern and what he should do next.
"I'm ok," I mouth. Edward covers me completely.
He nods slightly and reaches into the open half of the pantry and grabs a box of cereal. He glances at me, worried, before turning it into a glare and stalking back to fill a bowl in front of Alice.
Alice is looking at a magazine intently, so Edward winks at me and I smile slightly. I fill a bowl and then reach for the milk, but Edward snatches it and I sigh loudly.
Alice sighs again. "Alright lovers, just have your cereal and coffee and then quit it. It's old."
Lovers? Edward looks at me in shock and I glare at him telling him to stop his worrying. I'm sure it's just a phrase. I'm not entirely sure though.
This is getting dangerous.
Do you think they're sprung? Review!