All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the author. No copying or reproduction of this work in any language is permitted without the express written authorization of the author. Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. Thank you. July 2010.

A million thanks to fantastic xrxdanixrx, who provides the banner, and writes four amazing stories: Don't Try to Save Me, At Your Own Risk, Hate Me, and Here We Go Again. She's amazing!

Twilighted Beta – Shabbyapple. Thanks as always for turning these around so quickly.

Thanks to all reading and reviewing. Your reviews mean everything.

Some of you noted that we didn't hear anything about ice wine in the last chapter…did you really think I'd forget about wine? The night is still young! Let's see how Edward handles the journey, shall we?

EPOV

Chapter 24

"Bella...I don't want you to do something that you're not ready for," I unbelievably manage to say. What the fuck? Where did that come from? This is what I've been waiting for, dreaming of, hoping for.

"You don't want to?" She stills her hand on the miniscule towel at my waist while my dick twitches in annoyance at the fact that it appears I'm cock blocking myself.

"Fuck…yes...I do. I really, really do. You have no idea how much I want to be with you. But I don't think that you're ready," I whisper, pressing myself closer to her, relishing in how she feels. So right…so perfect.

"Maybe we can start here," she murmurs gently. "Is this alright?" She runs her little hand over my chest as I shiver underneath her. Holy fuck. I'm not going to last more than eighteen seconds.

"Bella," I warn, shutting my eyes and trying to calm the fuck down. It's pointless; my brain is no longer calling the shots. My hands move up her back under the flimsy white t-shirt she has on that is still wet from the rain. Thank you, Vancouver weather. She shudders under my fingertips…she feels fantastic. My heart races, anticipation burning, both of our breathing already elevated, and we've barely even begun.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"I want to try, Edward…if you do," she says cautiously. "And we don't have to do anything that feels weird or makes you nervous."

Makes me nervous? I'm already nervous…I'm a thousand things right now. Emotion churning and twisting, want, passion…I need to be gentle with her…I don't want to rush this. I brush her wet hair away from her face and she shuts her eyes.

"Taking it slow, right?" I ask, skimming my nose along her jaw while she leans back onto the pillow, exposing her glorious neck to me. I press my lips against it, feeling her pulse quicken while she pulls her fingers through my hair. "I'll be right back."

"Wha…where are you going?" she asks while I slip out of the bed, keeping one hand around the towel.

"Patience," I call back to her, moving quickly down the hallway, smirking the whole way like an idiot; an idiot who is falling really fast and really hard. My dick nods in agreement from under the towel. Hard and fast. I tighten the towel further around my waist, searching frantically through her kitchen for a corkscrew. I finally find it after rifling through half of the cupboards, and I quickly uncork the bottle, grabbing a glass from the counter and practically flying back to the room.

She's lying down; the sheet pulled up to her chin, her hair splayed behind her on the pillow, looking worried, anxious, and incredibly tempting. She eyes me curiously while I stalk to her, waving the bottle at her. "We can't let good ice wine go to waste, Bella. That would just be tragic."

She giggles and pushes herself up so her back is flush against the headboard. "We're going to have ice wine, now?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow to me and securing the sheet tighter around her.

"Yes. Yes we are." I set the wine glass on the bedside table and pour a generous amount in.

"Aren't you supposed to have ice wine with dessert?" she asks, wetting her bottom lip while she watches me set the bottle on the night stand.

"Yes," I say quietly.

"What's for dessert?" she asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.

I sit down beside her on the bed, placing my hands on either side of her. I lean forward and still my lips over hers. "You," I murmur. I feel her smile against my lips before I kiss her softly. Her lips move with mine, silently asking for more. Her hands wrap around my neck and travel into my hair, coaxing me gently forward. I could get lost in her. She's warm, inviting, vulnerable, tempting, brave…my heart constricts at what this means. That she's letting me get this close is nothing short of monumental.

I break the kiss, leaving her panting slightly, and reach for the glass of wine. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and looks up at me, her soulful eyes searching mine. "This is Summerhill Zweigelt ice wine," I say, twirling the glass between my fingers.

She gulps loudly. "Am I supposed to know what that means?" she asks sarcastically, a beautiful rose blush rising in her cheeks.

"Oh, you'll know by the end of the night what that means, Bella," I say darkly. She shakes her head at me and tries to grab the glass from my hand. I whisk it away from her. "You can't just down it back like it's a shooter. Ice wine is made to be savoured and enjoyed."

She rolls her eyes at me and leans back against the headboard, crossing her arms in front of her. "So, enlighten me," she mocks.

"This particular one is made from Austrian red grapes that are picked at the absolute coldest time…" I lean in and skim my nose along her collarbone, "on a very cold winter's night…" I nip under her ear, brushing her hair behind her shoulder, "when the grapes are frozen," I whisper, planting kisses down the column of her neck. She moans under my touch, her eyes closing and her head lolling back.

I pull back from her and her eyes flash open, her breathing becoming shallow. I dip my index finger into the glass and trace the outline of her plump, delicious lips. She parts them slightly and then sucks my finger into her mouth. "Each grape creates just one or two drops of rich, smooth ice wine," I say slowly while I feel her dart her tongue around my finger before she lets it go with a pop.

"Sounds like it takes a whole lot of grapes to make a bottle. Must be time consuming," she says dryly.

I chuckle and dip my finger into the wine again, tracing her lips once more. "Tell me what you taste," I mutter, setting the glass back on the night stand. I loosen the death grip she has on the sheet and move it down to rest in her lap.

She swirls her tongue around my finger, and I shift, trying to quiet the beast that's threatening my resolve. I pull my finger from her lips, my chest rising and falling quickly while I wait. "It's almost syrupy," she says reflectively. "I think I taste cranberry, maybe?"

"Mmmm. Very good, Bella. Do you taste cinnamon?" I ask, retrieving the glass once again and lifting it to her lips. She tilts her head back and I angle the glass, allowing her only a small taste before I pull it back from her.

She shuts her eyes and swallows. "A bit," she breathes, her eyes still shut.

"It's a tempting, sophisticated wine," I say, capturing her lips and slowly moving my tongue with hers. Holy fuck. She tastes incredible. I press my torso against her, feeling her perfect breasts against my exposed skin. This won't do. The shirt has to come off. Right…the fuck…now.

I pull back and offer her another sip, allowing her to have a bit more than the last time, gently dripping a trail of wine down her neck. I brush my lips down the path, moaning at the flavour as it mixes with the essence that is Bella. It's infinitely better than any wine I've ever tasted.

"Edward," she moans, sending the sound straight to my dick.

"Do you want me to stop?" Please say no…please say no. I repeat the mantra in my head.

"No. More," she whispers. I pick up the hem of her t-shirt with my free hand and whip it over her head, reattaching my lips to her neck as soon as the offending material has been tossed to the floor. I stop and sit back to take her in, wishing I could paint her right now. She's beyond beautiful; her jaw slack, her upper body glowing with the faintest rose hue, her perfect breasts rising and falling under a simple cotton ivory lace bra. I am in awe of her.

I offer her another taste, allowing the remaining wine to run between the valley of her breasts. I dip to her navel and lick the trail back up, stopping at her bra. I silently thank whoever invented front clasps…that person was a genius and should be given some sort of award. I twist the centre of the bra and it comes apart, slowly cresting over her breasts to reveal her perfect nipples. Every muscle in my body coils, my dick pulsating to the point that it's almost painful.

I set the glass back down and pick up the bottle of wine, keeping my eyes locked to hers while I pour out a steady dribble onto her right breast. She leans back and watches me slowly take her breast into my mouth. I feel her arch towards me and I swirl my tongue around her nipple, making sure I don't miss a single drop. "Wouldn't want it to go to waste now, would we?" I murmur, pouring more onto her breast and watching the wine rise and then dip down her taunt stomach and over her hip. I lick and nip at the trail, circling my tongue over her hip and tugging the skin between my teeth. I linger longer than I should, leaving her with a subtle mark. Yeah, I probably shouldn't have done that, but judging from the throaty growl coming from her, she seem doesn't mind.

I move to her stomach, taking my time tasting her, eagerly bringing my mouth to her left breast. She writhes under me as I concentrate on sucking her nipple into my mouth. It pebbles under me and she groans loudly. "Edward, please…"

Her breathy demands spur me on and I blow lightly on her nipple, teasing her with my tongue. She gasps while I bite down gently and lift the bottle, drizzling more wine over her breast and into my mouth. She moans loudly, a hypnotic sugary aroma filling the air while I worship her. She's breathtakingly beautiful and I'm blissfully aware that we are in unchartered territory. "Edward…" she whines, shifting underneath me.

"Patience, Bella," I growl, moving back to her lips and thrusting my tongue in, unable to control my want for her. I manage to get the bottle of ice wine back onto the night stand without spilling it all over the floor, and then move to hover over her, careful to keep my weight shifted away from her thigh.

"You taste so incredible," I murmur, resting my forehead on hers while I try to regain some sort of control. I can feel myself slipping. I could easily hurt her right now with the intensity of what I'm feeling…pure lust rolling off both of us, fuelling my ever growing need for her.

"Can I taste you now?" she asks, innocently, running her hands down my back, her warmth and desire overtaking me. Yeah…there goes the control. I gently roll away from her onto my back, trying desperately to hang on before I explode like some pathetic teenager.

I turn my head to watch her slip her bra from her arms, letting it fall to the floor. She glances at me over her creamy white shoulder shyly, which is kind of ironic, given what I hope to God she's about to do, and pours more wine into the glass, her hand shaking.

I lean up and wrap my arm around her waist, pushing my nose into her hair. "Bella, you don't have to do this. Tonight is supposed to be about you," I murmur.

She leans back, turning her head towards me. "Good, because right now, I want to do this. I want to taste you, Edward," she says, pushing against my chest. I lie back down on the bed…who am I to refuse her anything?

She lifts the glass to her lips and then leans in to kiss me. Her lips tingle from the wine and I eagerly taste them. I could simply kiss her forever and be happy. "What do you taste?" she asks, raising her eyebrows to me.

"You," I answer, leaning up in the hopes to kiss her again, but she has other plans, which is just fine with me. She pushes me back down, narrows her eyes at me, and very slowly, tips the glass, spilling a narrow stream onto my chest.

I take an audible gasp in and she pushes herself down on the bed, running her fingers across the wine that drips off the planes of my chest. She leisurely sucks and licks each finger, and then, lowers her mouth to my chest, her thick hair tickling me while she kisses lower…lower…fucking hell. She flattens her tongue around my navel…soft, wet, panting.

She stops, and I lean up, looking for a sign that she's reached her limit. Instead, I see her dart her pink tongue across her bottom lip and trace the top of the towel with her delicate fingers. She locks her eyes to mine and very deliberately tips the glass, pouring it along the towel. The pressure builds. I'm harder than I've ever been in my entire life.

She dips her head and glides her tongue across my abs…fuck…Picasso…Dali…Pollock...soft, warm, touching me. I'm on fire. She stops where the towel is tucked in and tugs on it gently. I've stopped breathing altogether while I try to remember more artists to distract me. I watch her eyes grow wide as she slowly unwraps the towel. And now, I'm the one who is vulnerable…naked beside her, my heart racing, my dick straining. I am hers.

I clench my eyes shut, the visual almost too much for me to handle. Almost. Bella topless, her translucent skin glowing, her eyes wide with expectancy, like she can't decide where to go next. I contemplate offering a suggestion, but she shifts back up slightly, takes another sip of wine, and then tilts the glass between her breasts. I growl…I'm sure I growl. I can't remember anything as erotic as this. She runs the fingers of her free hand through the liquid as it drips off of her and onto me. Very slowly, she leans over me and traces her fingers over my lips. "Want a taste?" she whispers.

Speech eludes me. If there is such a thing as a person actually dying from spontaneous combustion, I'm absolutely positive it's about it happen. I can only open my mouth greedily while she gently pushes her fingers in. She shuts her eyes and takes another sip of the wine while I suck on her fingers, moaning in protest when she removes them from my mouth.

Her eyes flicker to mine while she descends further on the bed. She swallows the wine, immediately taking me into her mouth as far as she can. Wet…hard meeting soft…sensation…only sensation. I'm panting, trying desperately to prevent my hips from thrusting into her mouth. Kandinsky…Matisse…Bella. She circles her tongue, her pace slow and torturous. She stops only to pour the last of the wine down my length, the glass ending up on the floor as she licks down, hollowing her cheeks around me while I moan and murmur. Too fast…too soon…not enough…so good.

I ball the sheets underneath me in my hands, the tide rising…Cezanne…fuck. She moves down, sucking on the sensitive skin on my inner thigh while she slides her little hand slowly up and down my length, gradually increasing the pressure. It's too much. I feel myself losing control, the intensity simply overwhelms me. "Bella, I'm gonna…God," I groan. My entire body shakes, emotion lifting us both as she circles my tip with her tongue until I can't take any more, exploding while she moans, the vibration consuming me, sending me hurtling, falling blissfully into pure, sweet release.

Unbelievably, she takes it all and is as breathless as I am, pushing herself up to lie beside me, her hand resting over my racing heart. "I'm sorry. It's been a while," she says quietly.

"Are you out of your mind? That was…I just…I can't even…no words," I stammer like an idiot.

She laughs and places her head on my chest. "At least I know I can render you speechless if I need to. That may come in handy."

"You can do that any fucking time you want," I growl, tightening my grip around her little waist. "Are you ok? Is your…"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she whispers. "That wasn't perfect, I know." She sounds dejected. "But we can try again."

"Hey." I tilt her chin up to me. "You're perfect, Bella. Don't ever doubt that." I kiss her forehead and she sighs.

"How do you like the slow journey so far?" she asks shyly, tracing her fingers down my arm.

"Do you really have to ask?"

She snickers and drapes her arm over my chest. "Thank you, Edward," she whispers, and in this moment, my world is changed irrevocably. We've crossed the chasm to a journey full of passion, desire, amazement, fear and hope.

Her breathing deepens, her body molding to mine as she drifts off. I pull my fingers through her hair, closing my eyes and falling peacefully into sleep for the first time in months.

I wake in the morning, disoriented in an empty bed. It's been a long time since I woke up in someone else's bed and not felt the overwhelming urge to flee immediately. The scent from the ice wine lingers and I can't help but smile. The wine bottle on the bedside table has been replaced with a small yellow piece of paper.

Edward,

I've gone for a run with Jake.

Will be back by 7:30.

Hope you slept well.

X

-Bella

PS – You snore. Help yourself to breakfast.

I don't know whether to be pissed off at her for leaving me to go run with muscle-man, or overjoyed that she's telling me to stay for breakfast. I choose the latter, not wanting to dwell on the fact that, right now, she's breathing heavy, probably in some fuck hot running outfit while he watches her perfect ass.

I whip the covers off and find the clothes she borrowed from me in a heap on the floor. They smell like her and I eagerly put them on, the unique scent that is Bella, washing over me. After using the bathroom, I wander out to the kitchen and see that she's put out fruit and bagels on the counter and the coffee is ready. I could get used to this…very, very quickly.

I keep one eye on the clock while I enjoy some real coffee, and wait.

7:28…My eyes are fixated on the door, my ears straining for any sound that would alert me to her coming home.

7:35…I am on my second cup of coffee. I'm not good at waiting. I don't like the feeling. I don't like knowing she's with him right now. That they are probably having some sort of intimate conversation that I know nothing about. I want to have those conversations. I want her to tell me everything.

7:45…I am wearing a hole in the area rug in front of the window while I pace nervously. The minute hand on this clock is louder than a fucking jet engine right now. Where is she? If I knew where she ran with the Steroid King, I could go and find her. Fuck, what if something happened? What if she's hurt? My heart races, my hands raking through my hair in sheer frustration.

7:50…I feel like I'm going to throw up. Something has to be wrong. I move to the kitchen to put the cup in the sink and hear a key slide into the lock at the front door. I race to it, whipping it open while she stares back at me wide eyed. Her hair is pulled back into a high pony tail, a few wisps escaping and framing her face. She has a tight black tank top on and yoga pants, her cheeks are flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering her face.

"Jesus Christ, Bella. I've been worried sick about you." I sound like I'm scolding her and I'm sure that's not going to go over well.

"I was almost out of milk and I don't know how you take your coffee," she says innocently.

"Come here," I murmur, my heart still racing as I pull her to me, practically crushing her into my chest. "I didn't know where you were."

She chuckles and pulls back from me. "I'm ok, Edward. Relax."

"We're rectifying this situation right now," I say authoritatively, moving to the bathroom and fishing out my cell phone from my jeans. I march back to the kitchen where she's standing at the open fridge door, taking a swig from a bottle of water. "What's your number?"

She shuts the fridge door and leans on the counter, an amused look on her face while she gives me her cell number. "Guess I probably shouldn't tell you what happened the other night if you're going to get like this," she says, her face falling immediately.

What the fuck? "What about the other night?" I ask warily.

"Something happened after I left your place, but it's nothing, so the police said," she says dismissively.

"The police?" Panic ignites and I cross the kitchen to her, cradling her face between my hands. "What happened?"

"A car tried to run me off the road. I'm sure it was kids or something. It's not a big deal, Edward. They said there have been reports of street games lately," she says, trying to look nonchalant, but failing miserably. She's clearly upset about this.

"What are you talking about, Bella? What car?" I try to digest what she's saying, but all that really registers is blue car, red framed license plate. "Jesus Christ, Bella. Why didn't you tell me? Have the police found this fucker? I don't want you going anywhere by yourself, do you hear me?" I ramble, overcome at the thought of something happening to her.

"Edward, don't be ridiculous. It was a prank or something, and I'm fine. I'm not a child, and I'm not about to be treated like one," she says, backing away from me and furrowing her brow.

"I'm sorry. It's just the thought of something happening to you is just…" I shut my eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control. I need to paint, but I need her more.

I feel her warm hand cup my cheek and I lean into it, the calm washing over me. "I'm fine, Edward," she whispers. I let out a sigh and open my eyes to her. She looks amused by my reaction, shaking her head and smirking at me. "You're over reacting."

"You must know by now how important you are to me. Have I not made that crystal clear?" I ask, pushing her gently toward the counter.

She laughs, melodic and sweet. "Maybe I need a reminder," she teases.

I push the car incident to the back of my mind and focus on the fact that she's here...keyed up from a run and looking extremely tempting. "Mmmm," I mutter, brushing my lips across her exposed collarbone. "How was your run?"

"Good," she breathes, placing her hands on the counter behind her and arching towards me.

"How is physio-boy?" I growl, slipping my fingers under the shoulder of her tank top and pushing it down her arm slightly.

She stiffens and leans back. "I thought you weren't jealous," she says.

"I'm not, because, once again, you're here…sweaty and deliciously tempting…with me," I murmur, pressing my lips to hers. She moans and plunges her hands into my hair, pulling and twisting, the sensation landing firmly in my dick.

She leans back, keeping her hands in my hair and rests her forehead on mine. "I have to get ready for work," she mutters.

"Work?"

"Yeah, you know. Work. What the rest of us non-creative people have to do to make a living?"

"Do you have to?" I whine. Fuck, I'm pathetic.

"Yeah. I have to. We've only got three weeks until the auction, and Rose and I still have a ton of stuff to do. I really need to get going and take a shower."

I lift my eyebrows to her. "Do you, now?" I ask, smirking at what I'm about to do.

"Edward," she warns.

"Bella..." I wrap my arm firmly around her waist.

"You can't, Edward," she says firmly, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Oh, but I can." I bend down and lift her easily up and over my shoulder while she squeals and hits my ass, which only serves to spur me on.

"Edward! Seriously!" she yells forcefully as I make my way down the hall and to the bathroom. Bella in the shower. It doesn't get any better than this. My brain has officially left the building. I set her down gently on the side of the tub and turn on the shower, the adrenaline pumping through me, pooling in my dick. She gets up and tries to escape.

"You need to shower, right?" I ask.

"You can't just put me in the shower, Edward. Not like this," she yells.

"Wanna bet?" I pull her towards me and she stiffens under my touch, while I inch her towards the shower and fiddle with the draw string on her yoga pants.

"Edward! For fuck's sake!" I stop and release my grip on her, panic overtaking desire. What the fuck have I done?

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to..."

"I know what you were trying to do. And if I was anyone else, it would be perfect. But I'm not just anyone else," she says. "I told you I can't be spontaneous. This..." She waves her hand at the shower. "...I can't just jump in there, Edward. I have to..." Her voice trails and she shuts her eyes.

Oh shit. This is bad. Whatever it is. Did something happen to her in a shower once? She can't possibly be worried about being naked with me, not after last night. Bella...naked. Focus, Cullen! "What is it? Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, Bella. Just talk to me."

She opens her eyes and stares at me, disappointment washing over her while the room fills with steam from the shower. "I have to put on a swim leg to take a shower, Edward. I can't just jump in there with you, no matter how much I want to," she says quietly. "This is what I was trying to tell you the other night. I can never do anything spur of the moment like this." The tears well up in her eyes. I feel horrible. Why the hell didn't I think of that? Right...naked Bella...in the hot shower distracting me.

"But last night, in the rain..."

"Yeah, that was rain, Edward. With me in a pair of jeans, for all of five minutes. I can't take my clothes off and get into a shower with this leg."

"I'm sorry, Bella." I reach for her arm and she jerks it away from me.

"Stop apologizing. This is me. All me. You should want to jump into the shower with someone. You should be able to do things on the spur of the moment," she cries, the tears spilling over.

"Don't cry, ok? Where's your swim leg?" I ask, brushing her tears away with my fingers.

"What?" she asks, sniffling and looking at me in disbelief.

"You heard me. I want to see it."

"Why?"

"Because it's part of who you are and I want to know everything about you. Well, that, and I really, really want to take a shower with you," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"You do?"

I nod my head and reach for her waist, gently pulling her to me. "If you want to. It can be part of our journey," I say suggestively.

"You should want to be with someone who can do this kind of stuff...who can be spontaneous," she protests.

"Bella, I want to be with you. And we can make our own version of spontaneous."

"I don't deserve you," she says, lowering her head.

I cup her chin and tilt it up to me. "You deserve to be worshipped, and I intend to worship you...all of you. Where is your swim leg?" I ask softly, praying that I haven't completely ruined everything.

She cups my face between her hands and stares back at me, her eyes burning, wanting, hopeful. "I'll go get it."

Chapter End Notes

Well, well, well. Seems that ice wine came in handy.

Let me know what you're thinking.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

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