Thanks to Project Team Beta and my junior validation beta jajo! Without them, this would be a comma festival, and my Edward would drink beer out of a glass.
This is my first lemon. I'm a little shaky and nervous about posting it, but I must!
Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine.
Edward
I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't touch her, and I'm having trouble keeping my hands to myself. She's amazing. Beautiful. Funny. Hot. All lips and hair and tits and temptation.
I know I'm confusing her, and it turns me on, because I'm a dick. I've been aware of my power over the opposite sex since I turned 14, and I've abused it. I'm compulsive, and I rarely let anyone stick around for longer than a week or two, at least not as anything resembling a girlfriend. Monogamy is not my thing. At all. No one has ever said no, and I doubt she would, but I feel an unfamiliar sensation in my gut when I think about it.
I wasn't lying when I said I could have had her that first night in the water. She was right there, licking her lips and stumbling. I don't do drunk, though. Well, not that drunk. If I let a girl sleep with me she had better fucking remember that shit. I was worth it. Even so, I followed her drunk ass up the stairs and stood in her bedroom doorway, watching her breathing, her body sprawled out on the bed.
I said she wasn't my type just to fuck with her, I guess. Of course she was. She was everyone's type, a delicious girl next store, but smart and shit-talking.
Underneath all that, though, I'd felt some concern as she lay on her back. She was drunk, and could choke, John Bonham style, if she got sick. My asshole, womanizing, trophy-wife-fucking father was a physician, and I knew she shouldn't sleep that way. So I flipped her over onto her stomach, her skin still cool from the lake. Hair wet and everywhere. My hand brushed against her cheekbone and I walked out, closing the door behind me.
So I've been playing with her since; loving the banter and making her blush, but when she mentioned her mom I actually felt a tiny twinge of sympathy. It had been a long time since I looked at a girl as anything more than a collection of body parts.
I get everyone I want. With her, though, I would actually have to try. My body and my reputation and the sex won't be enough.
So I pulled my hand away from her hair and turn back around toward the lake, effectively ending our moment. I can almost feel her disappointment.
Bella
The next two weeks passed quickly. The couples were happy, and Edward and I danced around each other. I longed for his occasional touches, and hated myself for it. I could see he gets off on seeing me squirm. Damn his stamina. I mean, he's got to be as sexually frustrated as I am, and I can see occasional physical evidence of it, but he has made no move to be anything more than a friend and that makes me extremely hot. Fucker.
On the upside, we've gotten to know each other pretty well. We get left alone a lot. The others have definitely consummated their relationships by this point. Rather loudly, at times. I'm grateful for my own cabin. Jasper and Alice moved into Pine and retreat there often. When I go to Rose's I usually knock now, after finding Emmett going down on her one afternoon in the kitchen.
Ew.
Edward is really smart and really funny under the cool exterior. He makes me think, and we are similar in a lot of ways. He asks me a lot of questions. He's interested in the dynamic between Jasper, Rose and I and I tell him I'm jealous that he had Emmett to grow up with, as I always wanted a sibling but had to wait for the summers to see my cousins.
We still meet for breakfast at Rose's, and still do theme dinners and bonfires and all the usual things, but the whole rhythm of our summer has changed. I wake up relaxed as always, but I think of him first. I dream about him. My day starts when I see him. He's still a cocky fucker, but he's evolving into something else in my mind, which is careless on my part. We flirt constantly, and the banter keeps me guessing and excited.
I'm seriously screwed. I'm going to get hurt one way or another, and I know it, and I can't stop.
It's the fourth of July, and after a brief reprieve from the heat, it's back in the 80's. Jasper is teaching Alice to water ski, and we're cracking up watching them start and stop out on the lake. I can see Mrs. Mallory on her deck, binoculars in hand, watching them closely. Since our group expanded, she has been spending a lot more time spying. It's a little creepy.
Rose and Emmett are on the boat as well; she is yelling instructions to Alice off the back of the boat, and I can see Alice's tiny hands rising out of the water to flick her off. Emmett's laugh booms as he watches the exchange.
Edward and I are lounging on the dock smoking a joint. He's telling me a story about a night in Tijuana with his dumb frat boy friends. Something about a donkey show. Typical. I groan at his antics.
"That's seriously disgusting." I laugh at him, passing him the joint.
"No shit! That's why it's funny, you prude."
"Oh please! The fact that I don't want to hear about a girl fucking a donkey doesn't make me a prude."
He hesitates for a second. "So, do you have a boyfriend in Seattle?" I look over at him. He's not looking at me, but down in the water. In all this time we haven't discussed past boyfriends, or in his case, conquests.
"Nope. I mean I've dated, but the last guy was…ugh." I take a sip off my bottle of water.
"Bad in bed?" he asks me, grinning.
"No! I mean…I wouldn't know."
I sit for a second wondering why I want to tell him this, and I'm not sure, but for some reason I do.
"I'm a virgin."
He doesn't react to that, but hands back the joint. I take a drag.
"I know."
I cough then, long and hard. He pats me on the back until I stop. My face is so red. I catch my breath.
"I guess I know how you know, although I can't imagine why the fuck anyone was talking about that. Well if you knew, then why did you ask if he was bad in bed?" I stare at him, eyebrows raised. Not really mad, but really curious.
"I don't know. I guess I wanted you to tell me that or something. It's…I don't know." He swings his legs off the end of the dock. I'm annoyed.
"Well, yeah. I am. Feel free to commence with the virginity jokes," I bite back at him, looking away.
"Hey, it's not like that. It's actually … a good thing."
I look at him and his face is calm and sincere. Kinda stoned. Fuck, he's hot.
"Thanks? Though it's not really by choice. There was a long time that I wanted to, but all the guys I went out with were too disgusting to consider doing it with." I'd rounded third base a few times, but most of them were so eager to get to home that I had hardly enjoyed it. I usually got dressed at that point.
He grins, and I wonder what he's thinking about. Probably the 8,000 women that he had pleasured this year. "Most guys are," he muses.
"What about you? Any lucky lady at home?" I'm genuinely curious. He hasn't mentioned the name of even one girl in the last few weeks.
His face darkens.
"Not exactly," he says, looking down.
"Not exactly?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.
"Not exactly," he shrugs, not meeting my eyes.
"Okay." I think about this for a while, puffing on the joint. Who was this "not exactly" girlfriend? Or was there more than one; a harem of sluts awaiting his return to Texas? I shake my head, stoned and unable to consider this right now. I stand up, watching Alice fall face-first into the water. Again.
"Hey, B?" He's taken up my nickname, much to my secret delight.
"Yeah, E?" He stands up.
"Wanna get wet?" His face is suddenly inches from mine, and he's looking at me with a sly grin.
My heart stops for a second and butterflies swarm my stomach.
"Wha-?" I ask as he grabs me around the waist and throws me off the dock, jumping in after me.
That night we party hard. Fireworks flash and crack across the lake and we clap and yell for everyone's, including our own. Bonfires dot the shore in the distance and I'm pleasantly drunk. Charlie and Carlisle were here last week, but couldn't stay for the weekend. They loved the new additions to our clan, and all the boys went fishing both days they were here. Esme is here, but went to bed early, citing a headache. Really, I think she just didn't want to see the debauchery in action.
I'm so happy. Everything I need is right here. I look around at my friends and sigh contentedly. Everyone is distracted, watching Emmett wade out to light another huge firework on the floating dock. Charlie spared no expense buying us a wide array of explosives, much to Emmett's joy and Rosalie's chagrin. She kept saying how she "loves those fingers."
Again, ew.
When I reach Edward he's looking back at me. The last few days he's been…intense. I wonder if the sexual tension is getting to him.
We stare at each other for a minute before I smile.
"What's up?"
He smiles back and shakes his empty cup at me. "We're out of drinks."
I look in my empty cup and sigh. I announce I'm going up to make more and I'm surprised when he's following me up the steps. We chat aimlessly, laughing about Emmett and his childlike joy at the fireworks.
Upstairs I whip off my sweatshirt and start slicing limes while Edward grabs the tequila. I slice my finger open while I'm at it. Biting my lip, I run to the sink and turn on the cold water. He's at my side then. My finger hurts, so my eyes tear a little. I feel my cheeks flush because it's only a cut and doesn't look that serious, but he looks so cute grabbing a towel for my finger, glancing worriedly at my trembling lip. He stands there with the towel around my finger and I'm aware that we are really close. I don't cry. My finger still hurts but I'm trying to fight the urge to grab his hair and pull his lips down to mine.
"Let me see," he says unwrapping the towel and inspecting my finger. "It's not so bad, Bella."
He stares at it for a moment more- it's only bleeding a little- and suddenly raises my hand to his mouth and puts the finger in his mouth and slowly slides it out.
All I can see are his eyes and lips; dilated pupils and eyes half closed looking down at me. His hand drops, but my finger lingers on his lower lip. We don't move for a long time. It feels like a year. My body buzzes with anticipation, and I'm aware that we've been standing here for too long, but I can't find it in me to move.
And then he takes a step back.
"Fuck," he says out loud, but looking like he didn't mean to. I'm floating and drunk and every nerve in my body is sparking and alert.
I manage to slap a band-aid on the cut and finish making the drinks, while he stands on the other side of the counter, looking at his hands. We don't talk. It's kind of awkward, but I can't form words, and don't know what I could possibly say right now that wouldn't make it worse.
He brings the bottle of tequila down with us. We get drunkedy-drunk. It's fun, but he and I aren't really talking, and when we make eye contact he looks away. We stay up so late that I start to sober up at some point. It's about 3am when we start back up the stairs. I can see him walking down the beach towards his cabin, his head down. He mumbles goodbye and takes off, with none of our usual banter.
We all go to our separate cabins and I'm disturbed by the quiet in mine. I start to get ready for bed, brushing my teeth, but I'm not tired. It's hot, and I feel sticky and unsatisfied. I grab a towel and head back down to the beach.
The bonfires across the lake are out, and ours is only smoldering embers, so the moonlight is bright and I can see everything. I undress slowly, liking the warm air on my skin. The water is cool as I wade in and dip under. I swim out a ways and float on my back in the still water, staring at the stars.
The splash startles me and I bob upright, an arm covering my chest, my eyes wide. And then I see him swimming out towards me. But then I can see his face under the moon and he's not smiling. I swim in, I'm far out, and meet him where I can touch again. We stand there staring, a few feet apart, and he reaches his hand out, searching in the water for mine. He's beautiful, and he grabs my hand and looks at our intertwined fingers and sighs. Almost sadly. I open my mouth to say something, a question, but his gaze stops me and he pulls me to him gently, his mouth meeting mine.
We don't talk. Our kisses are feverish. His mouth is hot and salty and sweet and when he trails it down my neck I moan quietly, my breath shaky. My arms are wrapped around his neck and I can feel him hard against my stomach.
Holy shit.
His hands trail down my back and grab my ass, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him. I've never been here before, but it feels like home. We stop and stare again, our breath mingling together and I'm fighting the urge to wriggle against him to feel more.
"Do we need…" he starts to ask.
"No. I'm on the pill."
This is really going to happen. I'm shaking. He's solid and warm and I feel safe. Reaching down, I grab him and his eyes close for a second. He's big and I'm small. I'm experienced enough to know that. I worry for a second that he won't fit, but I align us anyway, and we both groan at the pressure in the right place. And then he's lowering me and pushing in, and it hurts and he stops to let me adjust. But I'm ready, and shift my hips. His eyes flutter open and we move together.
Rhythmically and desperately and just…right. Our chests rub together and then he leans me back in the water with one arm, his other brushing my hair back and lingering on my lips. My breath is catching in my throat, and I'm making sounds that will probably be embarrassing later, but I don't care. I'm watching his body, arms flexing and chest taut, and his eyes are on mine and pleading. The wave builds and I come, him following right behind me. We float, still connected, breathing hard and I feel him twitch inside me. He pulls me back up and we kiss again, slow and lovely.
We get out and dry off, sharing my towel. He's amazing in the moonlight, and even though I've felt him naked, I haven't seen him, and looking gets me excited all over again. He comes upstairs with me, and we are holding hands. We lay in my bed face to face all night. We don't talk. We just look and hold hands and kiss and I hope there's more, because I want more. Way more.