A/N:

Here is Edward's tattoo. Just imagine it says "Cullen" and is on Edward's lean, muscley body. Close all of the gaps and prepare to drool, babes.

http:// lemonpepper . files . wordpress . com / 2008 / 12 / brody_jenner . jpg?w = 270&h = 379 #214,299

I want to take a second to thank all of my faithful readers and reviewers. You guys seriously don't know how happy it makes me to know that you enjoy my work. I truly love and appreciate you all ((((HUGS))))

Disclaimer 1: There's some sexy times in this here chapter. You've been warned.

Disclaimer 2: I don't own Twilight. If I did, all of the Twilight men would have worn boxer briefs throughout the entire movie. And nothing else. Yum.

"Wha-what are you talking about?"

"You said you have condoms...?"

"Huh? Oh! Oh, no, silly!... I said... BON-BONS! Yeah, I said I have Bon-Bons, not condoms. Get your mind out of the gutter, sheesh!"

"Hm, I could have sworn... Anyway, I'll be there in about fifteen minutes, is that okay?"

"Perfect."

"See ya, Beautiful."

"Bye, Sweetness."

Whew, that was close! Must. Filter. Big. Mouth.

Dear Diary,

I know it's been a while since I've talked to you. Don't be mad, but my life has been so crazy, I kind of forgot about you :-/

So I'll update you on what's been going on... I've had this weird... thing with this guy named Edward. Don't you just love that name? Anyway, we have this unbelievable connection. I literally feel sparks when he touches me and butterflies when he's near me. But it's not just physical, even though he's absolutely gorgeous, it's... soul-deep, Diary. I know without a doubt in my mind that he's The One.

So you must be wondering what the problem is, right? Well, he's in a relationship. Yes, you heard me, he has a girlfriend. A girlfriend who lost her mind when her parents were killed in a gruesome car accident. Drunk drivers suck ass. Although the girl has my sympathy, I can't help but feel as though she's taking advantage of Edward and his kindness. She's constantly using her parents' death as an excuse to make Edward spend money on her. It grates on my nerves that she exploits the memory of her parents as justification for her extravagant "retail therapy."

If she doesn't get her way, she'll turn all psycho, threatening to kill herself, throwing outrageously expensive tantrums—cutting upholstery, breaking windows, throwing antique China, scratching Edward's car, pouring bleach on his clothes and more. She never breaks things at her own place, but won't hesitate to trash Edward's belongings. His neighbors have called the police on numerous occasions due to her incessant screeching keeping them up at night. And he takes it all in stride, too afraid to upset her.

Sometimes I get incredibly annoyed with how docile he acts with her, literally letting her act like a spoiled child. You know that saying in the Bible, "Spare the rod, spoil the child"? Well, if I ever come face-to-face with little missy, there will be no sparing of the rod...

Lately she's been requiring more and more of Edward's time. I think she knows something is up, but Edward is in denial about it. For the last few months I've been getting weird voicemails and letters. They're blank. The letters are completely blank, no return address or anything, just an empty sheet of paper inside of a blank envelope, save for my name and address. And the calls and voicemails are silent, the only sound is the caller's soft breathing into the receiver. At first it creeped me out, but now it's gotten old and has lost its scare-factor. Yawn. So now, if I have nothing else to do, I just talk to the caller. Telling jokes, talking about my day, the weather, Silly Putty, anal plugs—whatever the hell pops into my head. Then I just hang up when I'm bored and go about my business. I imagine my nonchalance annoys her to no end. Ha ha, bitch. Ha. Ha.

Spending time with Edward is heavenly. I can never know enough about him. He's so caring, compassionate, intelligent, spiritual. I'm so in love with him, Diary. Sometimes it's painful, not being able to physically express my love for him, to feel connected with him in that way. We haven't said the "L" word to each other. I know we feel it, but I guess we're waiting until we can actually consummate our love to say it aloud. I've almost slipped so many times. It's incredibly hard to keep that word to myself when I feel it so strongly. It can be so all-consuming when I'm with him that I have to constantly think about what I say, before I say it, so I won't let it slip.

He has the key to my house, Diary. He was so shocked when I surprised him with it a few weeks ago, but it makes sense. Sometimes he knocks when I'm in the middle of a shower, or cooking or using the bathroom or doing laundry. It's really convenient for him to be able to just walk in without interrupting what I'm doing.

I've been in this... thing with Edward for a little over seven months. It's becoming borderline tortuous to be with him while having to refrain from being intimate. Being limited to hugs and chaste, friendly kisses is just... maddening. I don't know how much longer I can hold on, Diary. The sexual tension between us is palpable. My vibrators have been getting a helluva workout messin' with me. I keep a case of double A's in my nightstand. The Energizer Bunny can't hang with my neglected cooch.

Oh, and I'm still dating other men. I know none of the dates will ever evolve into anything meaningful. It's more of feeling like I have some kind of regulation in my life. My attraction to Edward, the situation we're in... so much of it is out of my control and can be incredibly overwhelming and depressing if I linger too long on it. My dating sort of helps me feel free and the nut jobs help me pass the time when I can't be with Edward. Make sense?

Well, I'm pretty sleepy right now. But I promise to let you know if anything of importance happens. See ya!

I close my diary and put it back in its place in my nightstand drawer.

Thinking about Edward has gotten me all hot and bothered. He was supposed to come by today, but she needed him. The amount of disdain I have for her grows every minute of every day.

I'm tired as hell, but decide to give myself some much needed release before bed. I sigh and pull out Thumper. My cute little rabbit should do the trick tonight.

I take my shorts and panties off and throw them somewhere on the floor, I'll pick 'em up later. Lying down on the bed, keeping my head slightly elevated on my pillow, I close my eyes and lower Thumper to my center. I turn it on high speed; no need to prolong this, I'm too horny and sleepy.

As soon as the vibrator makes contact, images of Edward flood my mind. His scent, his eyes, his long fingers. I arch my back at the sensation and moan, moving the toy in shallow circles around my clit. With my free hand, I push the top of my tank top down and pull my breast out, slowly tugging and pinching my nipple. I roll my hips in soft circles, pushing the vibrator harder into my clitoris. So close.

"Oh, Edward, yessss."

"Holy hell!"

My eyes fly open and I throw my blanket over the lower half of my body.

"What the fuck!!!" I yell, heart about to fly out of my chest. "Edward! You scared the hell out of me! Jesus!" I clutch the skin over my heart, willing it to slow down.

I look up at him and he's gripping the doorjamb tightly, jaw clenched, eyes closed, forehead scrunched.

"Edward?"

"Fuck. Fuck, Bella!"

"Are you okay?"

He opens his eyes, his lids are hooded. "I want you. Now."

I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to regain my composure, before I lose my shit and ride him until his dick breaks.

"Edward... you know we can't. God, I want you so bad, but we can't."

"Fuck... I know you're right." He pulls roughly on his hair. "I'm gonna stay the night, okay? Why don't you lay down, I'm gonna get my bag out of my car and heat something up. I didn't have any dinner."

"Oh, well, let me make you something."

"No, Baby, it's late. Just lay down for me and I'll come join you in a bit, okay?"

"'Kay."

He leaves the room and I get up to put my shorts on. Oddly enough, I'm not embarrassed at all about being caught. I wonder how he feels. I mean, horny, obviously, but is there anything else? Frustration, maybe? I can't even imagine how blue his balls must be. His dick is probably gonna go on strike any day now. I snuggle my head into my pillow and close my eyes as I hear Edward close the front door.

My eyes open with a start.

"Edward?" I scoot over to snuggle with him and the bed is empty. I squint at the digital clock on my dresser—2:57 am. My brow furrows in confusion. Where the hell is he?

I look around the room and notice light streaming into the room from under the bathroom door. Oh no, is he sick? Lord knows the boy can't even cook cereal. Probably gave himself food poisoning. I get out of the bed and slowly walk to the bathroom. I lift my hand to knock, but something tells me not to. I slowly open the door and enter the room, it's slightly foggy, so he's obviously taking a shower. I turn to go back into the room, I'm sleepy as hell.

"...Bella. Fuck, yes."

I stop dead in my tracks and whip my head around to face him. And am met with the most glorious sight known to man. Through the glass shower door stands Edward. Wet Edward. Water cascading over his beautiful body, rippling down his muscular arms. I can see his tattoo perfectly from this angle, glistening, lickable. I almost come on the spot. One hand is holding up his weight on the tiled shower wall. His head is down, drenched hair falling over his forehead, eyes shut tightly, droplets from his hair trickling down to his nose, back muscles tensed. Holy shit.

"Bella..."

His other hand is holding his rigid length, firm grip, pumping furiously. I've never seen such a perfect specimen. So hard, firm, thick. My mouth waters thinking about having that delectable thickness in my mouth. Licking that perfect, bulbous tip. I lick my lips, wishing it was Edward my tongue was tasting.

Dear God, please keep me conscious. I don't want to miss this. Amen.

I can see every vein in his neck, every muscle coiled and ready for release, accentuated under the steady stream of the shower. Beautiful.

I know I should leave. I should definitely leave and give him his privacy. I really shouldn't be watching. Definitely shouldn't be watching. But I can't move. This is the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

The hand on the wall balls up into a fist and he lightly and repeatedly pounds it against the tile.

"Fuck. Yes." He moans.

He grunts with each pump and I nearly come undone. I've never heard a more arousing sound.

Suddenly his eyes open and he turns his head to face me. Shit! I gasp and take a few steps back, getting ready to apologize and run out of the door, when he turns his whole body toward me, still holding his erection. He starts pumping himself again, looking into my eyes, and places his free hand against the glass door for support.

Holy fucking shit!

"Touch yourself, Isabella."

Without thinking, my hand immediately reaches for my breast and I knead it gently. Needing more, I swiftly lift my shirt above my head and reach behind my back to remove my bra, never taking my eyes off of his. As the bra falls to the floor, I hear a low growl come from Edward's mouth. I bring both of my hands to my breasts, playing with my nipples, rolling and pulling and tugging and moaning. It feels so good, I'm tempted to close my eyes, but I can't seem to take them off of the highly erotic scene taking place in front of me.

"Fuck. Do you see what you fucking do to me? I want you so fucking bad, Bella. So fucking bad."

He works himself faster. I can see his grip tighten around his engorged shaft. His grunts are getting louder and I lower one hand into my shorts to find my clit, rubbing myself in quick, hasty circles.

"Oh God, Edward. I want you so bad..." I moan, applying more pressure, roughly pulling my nipple. "I'm so close..."

I'm fighting to keep my eyes open, to take in as much of this man as possible. But it's getting progressively harder—the sight of him, his sounds, the raw, carnal desire swirling around the room, enveloping us in our combined lust... I can feel my clit throbbing, desperate to reach its peak. The sensual intimacy of it all is almost overwhelming...

He squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back, "SHIT!" His yell echoes around the bathroom walls as his body tenses and he releases long, milky streams onto the shower door while continuing to lazily pump himself.

"Oh!" My orgasm takes me by surprise and I can no longer keep my eyes open as every nerve in my body ignites, pleasure jolting through my system. My knees buckle and I fall to the floor, body quaking with the force of my climax.

In seconds, Edward is kneeling by my side.

"Shit, are you okay, Beautiful? I shouldn't have asked you to do that."

I open my eyes to see that he's still naked. And wet. Dear Lord, help me. His delicious cock is dripping water onto the rug and I want to lap up every. single. drop.

"Edward, don't apologize, that was... incredible. But you should cover up. Fast. Because my willpower is next to nil right now and I'm literally five seconds from shoving your dick down my throat."

"Holy fuck." His eyes close and he drops his head, probably analyzing all of his options and repercussions of said options. Finally he stands up and covers himself in a towel, making his decision clear. I breathe a sigh of relief. One of us has to be strong. And tonight, I'm not the one.

"Come on, Beautiful," he says, grabbing my hand. Let's go to bed.

A/N:

If you need me, I'll be out back smoking a cigarette.

coachlady1= The Shit

Until next time! Smooches! ^_^