This is it ladies! The final chapter of Terms and Conditions Apply.
Thank you to Adt216 and PainJane for your hard work and encouraging words on this chapter.
Thank you to Edmazing for nominating this fic on TLS and for all who voted. T&CA was one of the fic of the week winners! Yay!
I'm saving my big thank you speech for the epilogue.
I hope you like!
Chapter Thirty-One
-The Perfection-
"Take a deep breath." His honeysuckle voice tickles my ear.
"They're going to hate me." I sigh heavily, squeezing his hand even tighter.
He flinches slightly at my death grip around his fingers, but I see him trying to smile through the obvious pain I'm inflicting. It causes me to expel a breathy laugh.
"Sorry," I chuckle, releasing just slightly.
"They'll love you." He ignores my apology with a huge grin, trying to be all manly and supportive and stuff. I adore him, even though I kind of suspect he's lying to me.
"People don't just love me." I grumble, dropping my gaze to his shoes. "Not until they really get to know me."
"That might be true," he muses softly. My head snaps back and I stare at him gapingly.
"What the hell, Edward?"
He laughs, which makes me want to hit and kiss him—both urges tugging in equal measure.
"What?" He shrugs, eyes shining with mirth.
"You're supposed to disagree and tell me that I'm full of crap," I implore, glaring daggers at his pretty, perfect, stupid face.
"It's true in some ways," he defends, lips curling at the corners. "Take Rose for example. She didn't like you at first, but now, you guys are getting along just fine."
It's true.
"They're going to have time, baby." He raises his free hand and strokes my cheek. "If I have it my way, they'll have years and years to get to know the real you."
And just like that, he defuses me, unarms me, ruins me. I smile, because that's what he makes me want to do all the time. He makes me so, damn happy.
"Yeah?" I ask softly, tilting my head to lean into his touch.
He allows the tug at his lips to transform into the sweetest, heart warming smile. That smile. That's the smile that gets me every time. It's a relatively new smile. It's one he's only been bestowing on me since Jacob's wedding, four months ago. It's the smile that shows his vulnerability—that shows his love for me. It's the smile that splits him open and makes him so easy to read. It makes his heart beat outside his chest for the world to see.
"Yeah." The smile lingers, his eyes becoming molten lava and his fingers stroke oh, so gently.
Our moment is interrupted by the sound of a lock being turned. My head jerks back as my eyes grow wide in apprehension.
"Take a deep breath, baby," he urges again, pulling me into his side as we both stare at the front door as it flies open.
"Edward!" I jump at the sudden exclamation.
"Hi, Mom."
Xoxo
I wander around Edward's old room, fidgeting as my eyes take in everything.
It's pretty high class for a teenage boy's room. Large, king sized bed, dark grey comforter that matches the heavy curtains framing French doors that leads to a sweeping balcony. Brown leather couch on one side of the room, mirroring an imposing book case filled to the brink on the opposite side. It's kind of manly and sexy considering the age Edward was when he occupied this space. Then again, the rest of the house is nothing short of breathtaking. It's clear that Esme's an interior designer. My mother would kill for only one room in this semi-mansion.
Edward's parents are loaded. Seriously. Like, old money loaded.
My eyes notice photos pinned to a board above his mahogany desk. I instantly find myself navigating in that direction.
My breath catches in my throat as I see a younger version of him posing in snapshots with what I can only assume were his high school friends. He's alone in one or two, but mostly he's surrounded by the same group of people. He looks so carefree and happy. But in his eyes there is still the smouldering gaze I've gotten to know. The naughty secrets he keeps inside him. They didn't make them like that in Forks. Teenage Edward was big trouble.
"Hey," he murmurs against my skin as his arms wrap around me. I lean into his chest, keeping my eyes fixed on a picture of him and a striking blond. He's dressed in a tux and she's dressed in a pale pink dress.
"Prom?" I ask softly, twisting my fingers into his.
"Mhh." He sounds distracted as his lips linger on my neck. I smile internally, knowing that I'm the cause of the distraction. Take that, busty blonde.
"You were hot in high school," I tease, pushing my ass gently into him.
He chuckles and bites at my neck playfully, causing my skin to pebble as my eyes briefly roll into the back of my head. It takes some effort to recover them.
"Were?" He feigns insult.
I snort. It's no secret that I find grown-up Edward unbearably hot and irresistible. Who wouldn't? I bet the blond in the picture would too.
"Let's just say, if I knew you back then, you would have been in big trouble." You and the bimbo.
"I don't doubt that for one second," he replies lowly, tugging at my earlobe with his teeth.
We're silent for a moment as his lips feast on my skin and my eyes roam over the rest of the photos.
"Do you like Esme?" he asks after a moment, and the slight tinge of nerves in his voice makes my stomach turn. I never want to make him feel insecure. Not when he has ripped all—okay, most— of my insecurities from me with delicate hands and inquisitive touches.
I turn in his arms, pulling him against me as my hands fists in his t-shirt. I smile my secret smile at him. Yes, I have one too. One especially reserved for only him.
"She seems really nice," I reassure him, and it's not a lie. She was so welcoming and friendly when she invited us in. Hugs and sparkling eyes and aged beauty. She made me feel as at ease as one can be when you 'meet the parents' for the first time. "I like her." I nod, before rising up on my tippy toes to plant a soft kiss on his beckoning mouth.
Once I pull away, his eyes burn into mine in gratitude and relief.
"So, you would have dated a boy one year behind you in high school?" The sudden change of topic catches me off guard for a moment, but the cocky smirk on his lips instantly pulls me back.
"Not just any boy," I point out. "And I wouldn't have dated you."
"No?" he asks with raised eyebrows.
"No," I sigh, raising my arms until they're crossed behind his neck, bringing my breasts flush against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, and it's beating just as fast as mine. "I would have fucked you." I breathe into his ear. I'm so full of shit, and he knows it. Even though I was a bit wilder in my younger days, I was never slutty.
"Shit," he hums against my neck as his arms pull me further into his warmth. "Where?"
"Where what?" I lick his neck.
"Where would you have fucked me, Bella?" His voice is low and sexy and makes my whole body flush.
"In the janitor's closet." I bite his chin. He chuckles.
"In your car before school." I lick at his lips. He groans.
"In your bed." I moan against his mouth. He plunges his tongue into mine.
Being kissed by Edward, like only he can, feels all kind of naughty in his childhood room. It turns me on to no end and before long, I find myself wanting to climb his body, wanting to forget that we're not alone.
I'm in the process of hiking my knee over his thigh when he smiles against my mouth, which makes it impossible to keep the kiss going.
"What?" I ask, biting at his mouth in frustration as my leg hovers suspended in the air.
"I know what you're trying to do." He laughs softly, planting a long, chaste kiss against my lips before pulling back, eyes full of dancing devils.
I raise an eyebrow in fake interest as I drop my foot back to the floor. He has no idea.
"We can't stay up here forever." Okay, maybe he does.
He laughs even louder at my sour expression.
"Fine," I sigh heavily, pulling out of his arms. It's not that I'm avoiding spending time with his parents—maybe just a little—I'm just really nervous that they won't like me.
"Why don't you head downstairs while I take a quick shower?" he asks over his shoulder as he walks away from me towards his suitcase.
"Dream on buddy," I shake my head vehemently. There is no way in hell I'm spending time alone with Esme right after I met her.
"Come on, baby." He pouts, but I can tell he's only trying to feed me a line. "I thought you said you like her."
"I do," I nod sullenly. "But I don't recall you saying that you think she likes me back."
"Of course she does." He barks out an incredulous laugh. "Besides, I'll just be a minute."
"I could join you?" I offer hopefully, trying to sound seductive, and failing miserably.
"You don't have to. You look great." He shakes his head stubbornly.
"Why are you the only one that gets to shower?" I'm being petulant, I know this. But fuck him. I'm not facing the firing squad alone.
"Bella," he warns. He's becoming impatient, but the lilt in his voice tells me that I haven't pushed him too far yet. I've come to learn over the last four months that Edward can be extremely patient, until he's not. What he doesn't know, is that I might deliberately push him just a little harder sometimes. I can't help it. The boy is all kinds of hot when he's angry and fuming.
I square my shoulders and raise my chin defiantly. I won't back down on this. He can shower later.
Determination cloaks his features as he slowly saunters towards me, and I can feel my shoulders sagging slightly in trepidation. Damn him and his sexy swagger.
"You're a grown woman," he points out as he places his hands on my hips.
My eyes narrow suspiciously.
"You're a strong woman," he coos as his mouth softly touches my cheek.
I feel my resolve buckling and trembling at his touch.
"You're my woman," he whispers before he sweeps his lips lightly over mine and lowers his hands to my ass.
I moan wantonly, because I'm a pathetic, lovesick idiot.
"They will love you." He emphasizes his words by giving my cheeks a soft squeeze. "They will love you because you're amazing." He runs his hands up to my lower back and below my t-shirt, placing warm palms against sizzling skin. "They will love you, because I love you."
Damn you, Edward Cullen.
I pull my mouth into a grim line and give him a look that lets him know that I'm onto him. The twist of my lips and the look in my eyes isn't enough to move me to defy him, though. I'll do what he asks. I'll do anything he asks.
"Fine," I grumble, unimpressed by his unfair tactics. He knows my body is a slut for his touch. I pull away from his grip and trudge towards his bedroom door.
"I love you, Miss Swan," he calls behind me, his voice loaded with amusement.
"Screw you, Mr. Cullen," I reply without looking back.
"In the janitor's closet?"
Fucker.
I flip him the bird before I turn into the corridor, his laughter following me all the way towards the landing of the stairs.
Sometimes I really hate him. Hate him so much I want to kiss him to death.
Xoxo
"Um, hi?" My greeting comes out as a question as I peek into Esme's showroom kitchen. She's bent over the stove, stirring and whipping up a storm.
"Bella?" She spins around, her eyes bright and friendly as she smiles kindly.
"Uh, yes." I smile awkwardly, stepping further into the granite and stainless steel heaven. "Edward is taking a shower and I thought I'd come find out if you needed help."
"Oh, not at all sweetheart." She shakes her head and wipes her hands over her apron.
"Okay..." I trail of nervously; eyes focusing on anything except her, unsure whether I should stay or go. Everything in my body is screaming that I should slip away.
"I would love some company," she offers gently, gesturing to one of the chairs in the breakfast nook. Guess I'm staying.
"Sure." I nod, making my way towards it without making unnecessary eye contact.
"Carlisle will be here any moment," she says as I take my seat, turning back to whatever she has cooking on the stove. It smells divine.
"I'm excited to meet him," I lie. Okay, it's a half-lie. I do want to meet him. I knew that I some point I would have to. I've just never done well in forced situations, and given Edward's history with his father, I'm definitely nervous that there might be a strained atmosphere.
"He's excited too." I think Esme is half-lying too. It makes me like her even more.
There's a lull in conversation and I clear my throat anxiously.
"What are you making?" I ask in an attempt to stir up small talk. "It smells wonderful."
"Thank you." She beams at me, and I can tell cooking is something she loves. She looks like I do when I bake. "It's only sauce for the steaks. The weather is so nice this time of year, I thought we'd have a cook-out on the deck."
"Sounds great." I nod overenthusiastically. It certainly has been swelteringly hot. Even though it causes most of my make-up to vanish by midday, it also means Edward is showing a lot more skin. God bless his well defined arms and the hint of a tattoo beneath the cuff of his t-shirts and the way his—
"Edward tells me you bake." She interrupts my errant thoughts and turns towards me, leaning against the counter with her hip.
"A little." I nod, feeling my cheeks flush. I had no idea Edward discussed me with his mother in such detail. What do they talk about that would lead him to divulge such a menial tidbit?
"I'm not much of a baker." She smiles warmly. "But I do love to cook."
"I can tell." I nod towards the bubbling sauce which has completely permeated my senses.
We're silent again, and I feel myself becoming edgy as Esme watches me contemplatively.
"So you're Edward's boss." Oh...crap.
"Y-yes," I squeak and clear my throat obnoxiously. "But not for long, I suppose."
"How so?" She tilts her head in confusion.
Foot, meet mouth.
"Well, Edward's book is garnering a lot of attention at work. It seems like he'll be quite busy with promoting it and doing the book tour once it's published," I explain carefully, sending a silent prayer that this isn't news to her. Surely, if they've discussed my baking habits, they must have discussed this too. "He won't be able to do both. So, if the book sales goes as well as we're predicting they will, he'll be doing that fulltime."
"Oh, of course." I think we both breathe a sigh of relief. "I still can't believe that he finally got his break."
I find myself smiling, as I always do when I think about him.
When we got back from Jacob's wedding, Edward insisted we go to Aro and tell him about our relationship. He claimed he was tired of having to hide his feelings from everyone. With great fear and anxiety, we finally went to his office to spill the beans. To say that Aro was less than perturbed would be an understatement. Frankly, he couldn't give a flying fuck what we did in our spare time—his words, not mine. He did however encourage us to keep our relationship under wraps at the office, at least until Edward's book is published. I couldn't agree more. Edward, on the other hand, was peeved. He got over it once I sat him down—or rather—once I sat down on his cock and explained it to him in intimate detail that it would be best for his career that people didn't assume his success is attributed to the fact that he's fucking the boss. He reluctantly agreed and then literally fucked his boss...real good I might add.
"It sure was an interesting story how it all came about, huh?" I can feel the blood drain from my face as Esme's words seep into my bones.
"Excuse me?" I whisper incredulously. He told her?
"Edward tells me everything, Bella," Esme responds as if she could hear my thoughts. I guess I'm not that surprised at her words. In the last four months I've gotten to know him, it's clear that the game of lies and deceit he played with me at the beginning is completely out of character for him. He's an open book. That boy lies about nothing. I love that about him.
"I don't..." I let the sentence trail off, unsure whether I should be apologizing to her or whether I should crawl into a hole and die.
"He also told me that his book would be nothing if it weren't for you," she continues, rescuing me from eternal mortification.
"Well, I—" I start, but she interrupts my unintelligent mumblings.
"He told me that he adores your parents." My ears burn from embarrassment and a wave of appreciation and love.
I nod, lowering my eyes to my shoes guiltily. He loves and accepts all the quirky habits of my parents, and here I am, almost unwilling to spend just a few minutes alone with his mother. I'm a selfish bitch and I have no idea why he wants me.
"He also told me that he loves you very much." My head jerks up, eyes finding a warm smile and shimmering eyes. I gape, and then swallow thickly when I notice the emotion behind said eyes.
"He did?" My voice is nothing but a strained whisper.
"He did." She nods. "That makes me so very happy, Bella."
"It does?" I've obviously been reduced to a stammering idiot.
"It does." She nods again. "I'm sure Edward told you that Carlisle and I met under, how should I put it—" she raises a dainty finger to the corner of her lips. "—strenuous circumstances?"
I nod, dumbstruck.
"I'm all for redemption and second chances." I'm floored. Stunned. In awe. "Especially in matters of the heart."
I blink at the treacherous tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. How in hell did she manage to reduce me to a slobbering mess? The force is strong in this one.
"Even though he's my son and I love him unconditionally, I am not blind to the part he played in all of that." Her smile could literally light up a whole room. I think Renee and Esme would get along fabulously.
I smile timidly, because seriously, I have no idea what to say to this amazing woman.
"Have you told your parents yet?" she asks softly, turning to remove the sauce from the stove.
"I haven't," I admit begrudgingly. I've been meaning to. But, every time the opportunity arises to tell them that Edward and I haven't been together for two years—that we put up a show for them—I find myself chickening out.
"I think they already know," she murmurs, sounding extremely sure of herself.
"You do?" I ask in shock.
"Well, I think they might suspect it at least." She nods. "Parents are far more observant than you think, sweetheart. You'll understand once you and Edward have children of your own."
"What?" I squeal. "We haven't—" I sputter. "We're not even close to—" I stop to collect myself. "We're not nearly—" I come to a grinding halt before I trip and fall over my own tongue.
She smiles and taps her temple with two fingers, giving me a knowing wink.
Damn her.
We once again fall silent, but inside I'm screaming.
My teeth bother my lip, my fingers twist in my lap, my knee bounces nervously.
"So you think I should tell my parents?" I ask softly, peaking up at her from beneath my lashes, unwilling to make full eye contact with the evil mind reader.
"I do."
Xoxo
Meeting Edward's father goes down a lot smoother than I originally expected. Well, it goes down smoothly for Edward. Watching his interaction with his father, it would be almost impossible to tell that they had a strained relationship for so many years. It would be almost impossible if you didn't know at least one of the men really well, which I do. Their interaction with each other is definitely a little forced.
I, on the other hand, have been reduced to a blushing, smiling fool. Let's just say that the Cullen genes should be harvested and bottled for generations to come. Carlisle is nothing less than gorgeous. Of course, Edward notices my teenage swooning, regularly pinching my thigh beneath the table and rolling his eyes in exasperation. I simply react by smiling sweetly.
I've eaten the best steak I've had in years, laughed more than I have all week leading up to this meeting—despite of Edward's slight discomfort—and drank more wine than I have since my college days, when Edward finally leans into me and whispers in my ear.
"What did my mother and you talk about earlier?"
"Why?" I ask innocently.
"She's looking at me like she knows something I don't." He chuckles as I raise my wine glass to my mouth, only to lower it with a frown once I find it empty. "More wine, baby?"
"No, thank you," I reply softly, leaning my heavy head on his shoulder. "I don't think it would be the best idea to get completely shit faced the first night I meet your parents."
He laughs silently through his nose, the air of his breath causing a delicious shiver through my body.
"So?" he implores, throwing his arm over my shoulder and pulling me further into him.
"So what?" I ask in confusion, relishing in his closeness.
"What did you talk about?"
"Nothing." I shrug. I'm definitely not telling Edward about his mother's baby-talk.
"You're a bad liar, my love," he teases, running his nose over the shell of my ear inconspicuously. I shiver again—of course.
"Apparently," I mumble sleepily, fighting the urge to close my eyes and nestle into him further.
"You want to go try out my bed, sugar?" He's being naughty. I like it when he's naughty. Our children will probably be naughty too.
Yep—I'm definitely bordering on drunk.
"Well." I hear Carlisle clear his throat as he stands from his chair, running a hand through his hair and looking so much like the man I'm currently snuggling up to. "I hope you will excuse me, Bella. It's been a long day, but I'm looking forward to spending more time with you tomorrow."
"Yes, of course. I'm looking forward to that too." I blush. Edward pinches my thigh.
"Are you interested in a nightcap, dad?"
Carlisle is clearly taken aback by Edward's suggestion, but he recovers after a quick glance in Esme's direction. She's smiling encouragingly which causes Carlisle's face to morph into something resembling hope. It makes my heart hurt a bit.
"I would like that, son." Carlisle nods, his eyes bright with anticipation. I run my hand over Edward's thigh. I love that he's reaching out—trying to fix something that has been broken for quite some time. He's so brave.
"I'm just going to get this one in bed." He jostles my head on his shoulder. "Meet you in your study in ten?"
"I'll be waiting."
Xoxo
Edward and I are having one of our talks. It's a habit we somehow fell into over the last couple of months. For some reason—in this position—where I'm straddling his lap and he's buried inside me, oh, so deep, we always find ourselves talking about what happened that day, or what we're planning for the next. We're never rushed as hips lazily grind and fingers almost absentmindedly stroke. It's quite domesticated. I live for these intimate moments when it's just me and him, skin sliding slickly together, eyes locked and gazes penetrating.
Last night, there was no time for hanky panky. I was lost to the world the moment my head hit the pillow, even before Edward left to have a talk with his father.
We're making up for it now.
The moment my eyes opened to the soft light of dawn, I rolled over him and slowly started stripping us both of our clothes. His eyes opened slowly, his lips curling into a lazy smile as he raised his arms, still heavy from sleep above his head, so I could remove his shirt.
When he looks at me like that. All warm and sleepy and familiar, I can feel my love for him growing exponentially every time.
"Your mother likes me," I whisper, rolling my hips into his, enjoying the gentle squeeze and tug of his hands on my hips.
He's sitting upright against the headboard of the bed, which brings us so very close to each other, our breaths mingling and joining in the small space between us.
"I can tell," he whispers against my breast, licking at my nipple leisurely.
I stroke his hair gently, running fingers softly over his scalp. He likes that. It makes him purr like a kitten.
The house is silent around us, the sounds of birds chirping in the trees outside the only other noises joining our soft gasps and melting moans.
"My dad likes you too," he points out, moving his mouth to my other breast and repeating the action.
"I think he's very handsome." I shrug, accidently pulling my nipple out of his mouth with a pop. We both chuckle.
He raises his eyes to mine and dig his fingers just a little harder into the flesh of my hips.
"I can tell," he repeats himself, rolling his eyes dramatically.
We laugh breathily and I move to kiss his temple, keeping my mouth there as our pace increases slightly, before it settles back into languid strokes.
"Did you have a good talk?" I ask quietly against his skin.
"Yeah," he breathes, his voice laden with desire.
"Want to talk about it?" I persist, scratching my nails down his back.
"Not when you're doing that." He chuckles, scratching his blunt nails over my hips. My moan concedes that he has a point.
"Later then?" I pull back slightly to watch his face. He smiles softly and winks minutely.
"Definitely."
We're silent for long moments, our only objective to steer each other to that place that fills every hole and crevice in our united bodies. I can't keep my eyes off him, and it seems like he's having the same problem.
"I'm going to tell my parents about the lie," I admit out of nowhere, watching him carefully as I gauge his reaction.
He seems completely unfazed, twisting his mouth into a small smile, before nodding his agreement.
His fingers trail lazy paths from my hips, along my back, up and up until they're cupping my face.
"I adore you," he whispers reverently before pulling my face to his and moulding his lips to mine.
I gasp into his mouth as his tongue strokes mine so good, and his hips push his cock against the best spot inside me.
"There?" he asks softly against my mouth, knowing my body so well.
"Yeah," my reply is hardly more than a breath against his lips.
His hands travel from neck, over my shoulders, stopping to gently stroke the sides of my breasts with the back of his fingers before they find purchase on my ass. He picks up the pace, knowing that I won't last much longer, and neither will he.
I love the way he loves me.
"I can feel you everywhere," I gasp softly, throwing my head back.
"Me too," he agrees as his breathing picks up to match mine.
"You can feel yourself everywhere?" I tease, dropping my gaze back to his.
"Smart ass," he quips with a laugh, pinching my ass cheek playfully.
I'm panting by now, and Edward isn't much better off.
"I want to be with you..." I trail off and squeeze my eyes shut as our hands start to touch firmer and claw harder.
"You are," he interrupts and presses down on my hips so I can grind my clit against his pelvic bone.
"All the time." I finish my sentence, opening my eyes to him.
"Then move in with me," he moans before quietly crying out as the friction between our bodies steadily builds.
I'm momentarily startled by his request, but not completely surprised. We've been dancing around this subject for a couple of weeks now.
"So good," he mumbles as his gaze moves to the spot where he's pounding in and out of me.
"I want to be with you," I repeat as he raises his eyes, the heat in them singeing my flesh. "I don't care where I live, as long as we're together."
"Then live with me, baby." He makes everything seem so easy. And that's all the encouragement I need to arch back and fall into oblivion. My mouth opens as I prepare to scream, forgetting that we're in his parents' house. Luckily, Edward's quick to assist, covering my mouth with his hand. I bite down onto his palm, my body writhing and jerking against his as my orgasm rocks through my body.
"Fuck," he moans long and loudly as his cock swells and finally releases inside me. "Fuck, this is so good."
I nod silently against his hand, allowing my orgasm to crest and break through me as my muscles clench and unclench around him.
He bites down on my shoulder, using my flesh just as I used his to keep our union secret to the outside world.
I lazily start to lick his hand where my teeth left crescent marks as he slowly comes down from his high, reciprocating my actions against my shoulder.
"I want all of you," he whispers against my neck, leaving feather light kisses in his wake. "I want everything."
Did I mention that I love how he loves me?
Xoxo
We discuss our living arrangements between giggles and chuckles and lazy yawns, until Edward grudgingly gets up to take a shower. I want to join him, but I need to call my parents first. My conversation with Esme has lead me to realize that I need to be honest with them. Edward's talk with his dad last night just solidified that.
That's something Edward has taught me. Honesty. That, and so much more. He has opened me up to the best experience of my life—loving him passionately. And with that comes the most amazing reward—being loved passionately in return.
We still fight. I mean seriously, there is no such thing as rainbows and fairytales. But now that I know what it's like to be adored and revered by someone like him, I know that I don't want mythical creatures and heroes in Harlequin novels. I want the blood, sweat and tears that come with building a life with someone. I want the arguments over uncapped toothpaste and breadcrumbs in bed, because it also comes with flowers when you least expect it. Heated kisses and love letters left on toilet paper.
I want all of it.
I want everything too.
"My mother says to tell you that Angela has been asking about you," I tell Edward when he steps out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around low over his hips and one hanging from his hand.
"Is that so?" He chuckles, but I can see the slight cringe at the mention of her name. No, not even the lunch we had with Angela and Mr. Banner after Jacob's wedding has totally sold him on her. He still finds her extremely creepy, a fact I find incredibly amusing and so very cute.
"She sends her love," I say with a chuckle, falling back against the pillows after discarding my phone. I'm as naked as the day I was born, but being with Edward, and the way he attempts to keep me unclothed as much as possible, has cured me of any and all insecurities I may have had.
"Who? Your mother or Angela?" he asks as he rubs his wet hair with the towel in his hand.
I lick my lips as my eyes travel over his perfect chest, down his torso and finally the mouth watering V, earning me a cocky, quirked eyebrow in response.
I grin and shrug cheekily, to which he chuckles and winks.
"My mother," I respond absentmindedly when he drops the towel around his waist and the one in his hand, walking over to me with that all too familiar confidence. I feel my thighs clench at the sight of him. He is my magnetic north.
"Did you tell her?" he asks, crawling over the bed until he's lying beside me, bare legs tangling, his face hovering over mine.
"I did." I nod, raising my hand to lay it against his cheek. He leans into my touch and turns his face to kiss my palm.
"How did she take it?" he murmurs against my hand, nuzzling at my skin with his teeth.
"She told me they suspected something was up, but that it doesn't matter how or when we met." Just saying it makes it seem almost surreal. I can hardly believe how easy and forgiving the people in my life seems to be. It's definitely a lesson learned.
He smiles and moves to plant a kiss on my forehead, before curling his arms around me and pulling me on to his chest. I sigh happily, running my fingers over his pecks and resting my head on my spot, the one just below his chin.
"They're just happy we found each other." He nods above me, running his hand over my naked back.
"Your mother is fucking awesome." I laugh at his response and sigh my agreement. I don't think it's possible to feel happier than I feel in this exact moment.
"She also mentioned that you should write a book about how we fell in love," I giggle. My mother is a hopeless romantic.
I can hear the low rumbling in Edward's chest as he chuckles, before he kisses the top of my head and whispers softly, "Now, who would want to read that?"
xoxo
Please share your thoughts with me. This is almost the end and I'm going to miss your words most of all.
With love...
Your Mistress
xoxo