Bella

Holy fucking hell. Pure, unadulterated lust. That's what it is. The boy is killing me slowly, looking straight at me over the microphone as he sings the Smiths' How Soon is Now? It's about social isolation and shyness, but there's nothing shy about the way he sings it. It's undeniably one of the sexiest things I've ever heard.

The guitar does that whiney thing, and I die a little inside. In the back of my mind, there's a nagging feeling that the words—I am human and I need to be loved—might mean more to him in this moment than on any other given night. I bite my lip and breathe deeply to calm the racing of my heart.

Fucking hell. I want him.

Edward

The only thing I see while I sing and squint into the bright lights is Bella's pretty face. She sits motionless on a barstool, staring back at me, eyes wide, lips parted. It's no accident that this particular Smiths song is on our setlist. My theory is that every guy wants to—well, there's no other way to put it—fuck someone to this song at some point in his life. It seems to have the desired effect on Bella…and most of the other girls in the bar. But I only have eyes for her.

We end the set for a fifteen-minute break, and I make my way to the table where our friends sit, where Bella already has a fresh beer waiting for me.

"You're too good to me," I say, taking a swig.

"That was amazing."

"Thanks, love."

She looks sort of dazed.

"Bella?"

She blinks a few times, then snakes her arms around my neck and kisses me with apparently everything she has.

"Sorry," she says when she comes up for breath.

"Don't even think about apologizing for that."

"I—I just really like that song."

"I was hoping you would." I give her my best sexy grin, feeling so incredibly lucky to have found her. Girls I've dated in the past held a certain contempt for the fact that I'm in a band and have to play most weekend nights. Bella's nothing like any of those girls.

At that moment, I hear a voice that makes me contemplate the definition of irony.

"Edward!" she screeches and throws her arms around me.

Tanya.

A girl I dated for a short time last year. One of those girls that whined whenever I so much as mentioned music.

She runs her fake nails down my arm. "That was sooooo good, Edward. You know how I always loved your singing."

"Funny," I say through clenched teeth. "I remember you resenting it."

I glance at Bella, who seems to be struggling not to give Tanya the bitch brow. The difference between them is staggering. Bella's naturally gorgeous. She's wearing light makeup and a casual dress with those boots she wore on our first date.

Tanya, on the other hand, cakes on the makeup. And the tight, tiny dress she's wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination.

I put my arm around Bella. "Tanya, this is my girlfriend, Bella. Bella, Tanya."

She shakes Tanya's limp hand and sinks into my side. Bella's jealous? I think and hold back a chuckle. She has no reason whatsoever to worry.

"Oh! Well, it's been real. Gotta go!" She gives a small wave, her attention diverted, and scurries away.

I shake my head at her retreating form.

"Old girlfriend?"

"We dated for a very short time."

She purses her lips. I can tell she's biting the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing."

I put my beer down on the table and turn to her, putting my hands on her waist and pulling her off her barstool. "There's something wrong," I coax her.

"She's just so…leggy. And blonde. And sort of glamorous."

I throw my head back and laugh. "Are you serious? Bella, she's nothing compared to you. Everything about her is fake, including her personality. She's nothing," I repeat, framing her face with my hands. "No one can hold a candle to this beautiful face." I trace my fingers from her temple down to her chin, then tilt her head up and brush my lips against hers.

"I've gotta get back up there. When we get home…" I kiss the sensitive spot just under her ear.

She sighs and leans further into me. "Don't tease me, Edward."

"I'm not. That's a promise." I nip at her ear and walk back to the stage before I try to rip her clothes off and take her right in the middle of the bar. Maybe on the bar. Fuck, I think. I have another set to get through. Maybe I should've saved that song for last. I store that idea in the back of my mind.

I'm pretty sure I'll eventually explode with need for her. Why do I insist on torturing myself? It's heaven and hell all mixed into one. Since that night in the shower, we've become more comfortable with each other physically, but we haven't gone quite that far again. I long to bury myself within her and give us both the release we want.

Soon, I tell myself. Very soon.

Bella

It's like I'm in a permanent state of arousal. In the shower after work the next day, I think about a little self-gratification. That's not to say Edward's not into a little manual relief. He made good on his promise when we got home last night, kissing me until I thought I would pass out, and then sliding his hand up my dress…

I lean back against the tiles, letting the water rain over me, and close my eyes. No time for that, I think. The real thing will be here soon. Edward's bringing dinner over to my place for a night in, complete with wine and black-and-white movies. Maybe I should've waited until he got here to shower. A repeat performance of that shower a couple of weeks ago would be… Unf.

I can't even think about that night without groan. I thump my head back against the wall and reach to turn off the water. He'll be here any minute.

"Perfect timing." I pull a shirt over my head and make my way out to answer Edward's knock. "Hi," I say in a cheesy-sexy voice when I swing the door open. But it's not Edward standing at my front door.

"James? What are you doing here?"

He licks his lips. "Mmmm. Wet Bella. I like wet."

I pull a confused face and lean against the door frame. "Uh, what?"

He pushes his way into my apartment without answering.

"What are you doing here?" I repeat.

He shrugs out of his leather jacket. "Haven't seen you in a few weeks. Thought I'd come visit."

"Now's not really a good time."

"Oh, I think it is." He leers at me, and I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly very aware that I'm in a pair of very short shorts and a tank top.

"What are you doing?"

"I wasted a lot of time on you. I don't know how else I can send the message." I have no idea what he's talking about, but he continues to ramble on. "I tried to make you jealous that night with Victoria, but that didn't work."

"You tried to make me jealous?"

"Yeah. But you grabbed some other guy and left with him."

"I didn't leave with him." I'm not sure why I feel the need to make that clear.

"Every time I see you out with him, he's got his hands all over you." He's in front of me then, reaching a hand out to rest on my hip. When has he seen me out with Edward?

I recoil from his touch, but he stands his ground.

"Obviously, you aren't the prude I thought you were." He grabs me firmly by both hips and pulls me roughly against him.

"Let go of me, James." I twist in his grasp, but he yanks me back to him.

"I don't think so." He pushes me down on couch and kneels over me.

"Get the fuck off me!" I shout, pushing against his shoulders.

I can smell liquor and cigarettes on him as he leans in close.

"What the fuck?"

Oh, thank you, God. The sweetest voice ever.

Edward yanks James backward and pushes him to the ground.

"You okay?" he asks me roughly. I nod, unable to speak.

James struggles to get up from the floor, but Edward grabs him by the collar and slams him up against the wall. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he growls.

"Relax, man," James says, but the snide look on his face tells me that's not actually what he wants. He sneers in Edward's face and pushes him backward, effectively breaking away from his grasp. "I didn't know she was slutting around with someone else."

Edward's face goes from angry to crazed. In a split second, Edward's fist rears back and slams into James's nose.

"Fuck!" he cries, hands cupping his face. When he brings them back down, they're covered in blood.

I feel dizzy. Before I can blink, James has wound up to return the punch.

"Edward!" I shout.

He tries to duck out of the way, but James's fist still manages to cuff him on the left cheek. It doesn't even faze him. He grabs James by the collar and drags him to the door.

"Get the fuck out of here. You ever attempt to lay a finger on her, I will fucking end you," Edward growls, shoving him outside and slamming the door behind him.

He leans forward, supporting himself with his hands against the doorjamb. He's breathing in deeply through his name, and when I say his name tentatively, he holds one finger out to me, silently asking for a minute. I watch him shudder and sigh after a moment. He pushes off the door, locking it and turning to me.

"You okay?" he asks again. I nod, and he comes to sit beside me on the couch. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say breathlessly. "You know that wasn't—"

"Did he…touch you?"

"No. You came in before he could do anything. Edward—"

"I'm sorry I got so angry."

"Are you kidding me? He deserved that."

He lets out a shaky breath, and I get up on my knees and wrap my arms around his shoulders. "I'm fine. Perfect now that you're here." A bruise is already forming on his face where James punched him, so I go to the kitchen to get ice to help with the swelling. Taking my seat on the couch again, I nudge his head down so he's lying on his back with his head in my lap. He winces when I apply the ice to his cheek. "I hate that he did this to you," I say.

"It's nothing." He gazes up at me, bringing his hand up to gently cup my cheek. I lean into his palm. "I'm just glad nothing happened to you."

"Fine and dandy. Really."

There's a comfortable silence as I hold the ice pack to his face with one hand and run the other through his thick hair.

"Thank you," I say after a minute or two, lowering my head to brush a kiss across his lips.

He grins slightly. "Don't mention it." His anger seems to have dissipated, and as we sit there in silence, I realize that this is it. The perfect time to let him know exactly how thankful I am for him.

"Edward?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

His eyes pop wide open, searching my face as though he's trying to decide whether he heard me correctly. "Say it again," he finally whispers.

"I love you. So, so much."

He reaches up and pulls me down on top of him abruptly. "God, that sounds good." He kisses me forcefully, awakening every cell in my body. "I love you, Bella. So much. You're all I think about. I can't even tell you how good it makes me feel to know…."

I kiss him again, hoping that it shows every ounce of feeling I have for him. The ice pack falls to the floor, scattering melting cubes over the carpet.

"Leave it," he says, his voice like gravel. He takes my chin in his hand and turns my face to his. "Just kiss me."

I do as he asks, and soon I'm straddling him. His hands went slide underneath my tank top, rubbing up and down my back, then over my butt, pulling me closer to him. I break away from the kiss and sit up, rocking slightly over him, smoothing my hands down his chest to the hem of his t-shirt. He grabs it by the back of the collar and lifts it over his head, tossing it to the floor.

I lean down and press my lips to his chest, kissing my way around muscled planes and dips. My tongue peeks out and circled his nipple. His hands go under my arms, pulling me back up, our lips meeting again. The kiss isn't gentle this time. It's hard. Wanton.

"Edward."

He groans under me, passing his tongue over my neck and back up to the spot behind my ear that he knows makes my knees buckle.

"Edward," I murmur again. "Please. I want you."

The air crackles as I anticipate his answer.

"There's nothing I want more," he whispers, lips brushing against my ear.

My breath rushes out all at once. His words send heat shooting through me, culminating between my thighs. He sits up, bringing me with him, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he stands and walks to my bedroom, his lips never leaving mine. As soon as I hit the bed, I reach for the hem of my shirt, but his hands still mine.

"I want to do that," he says. I melt as he takes my shirt off slowly, brushing his fingers up my body, my arms, when he passes by. "So beautiful." He crawls over my body, and his lips drift down to my breasts, nipping at my hardened nipples, making me gasp. My hands trail up his muscled arms, over his shoulders, into his hair, pausing to linger in the silky strands.

He raises his head and brings his mouth back to mine, and my hands continue their journey back down his shoulders, over his chest, down his stomach, to the button of his jeans. I fumble with the button fly, then push the jeans down his hips, using my feet when they're too low for my hands to reach.

I'm giddy at the thought that this is really happening. I keep expecting him to stop me again, but he makes no move to do so. Instead, he kicks his jeans away, and I tear at his boxers. He reaches down and frees himself of them, and my hands wrap around his straining erection.

He drops his head to my shoulder. His voice is sandpaper when he tells me I'm killing him, says my name, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut. I stroke him gently at first, amazed at how something so rock hard can still feel so soft.

"I'll come," he says.

Arousal rushes through me at his words. He pulls away, and my hand misses the feel of him. He kisses and nips his way down my body on his way between thighs.

I feel as though I'll melt into a puddle on the bed when traces the inside of my thigh with his tongue. He pulls off my panties and presses his mouth against me. I'm whimpering, moaning, writhing. It's ridiculous and delicious. I try to stay in the moment, but my body cries out for him, needing him to fill me, to make me whole. I grasp his shoulders and urge him back up. He covers my body with his, and we both moan as his cock slides against my damp flesh.

"I want you," I breathe.

"I'm yours," he says.

He pushes forward and whispers his love for me, his eyes never leaving mine. I echo his oath as he enters my body, stretching, filling me. I gasp. He sighs. And when he's completely inside me, I feel…complete. He stills within me while I adjust. I squirm under him, and he takes the signal without needing words. Pulling back slowly, he allows me to feel every inch of him, then plunges back in.

"Oh!" I gasp. His lips are on mine then as he moves within me. The push and pull stupefies me, and I bury my face in his neck.

"Bella," he chokes.

I fight for the breath that allows me to exist for this moment. My legs wrap around his waist, and his hands slide under my butt, squeezing, tilting, creating a new angle. My thighs began to shake.

I burn. His sends flames licking higher and higher inside me, reaching the top of my head and shooting back down to my abdomen. They ignite the inevitable explosion, and I cry out as the waves take me.

Too many emotions accumulate to form a lump in my throat. I strangle out words of adoration, of pleasure. I swallow, but the lump rises. A noise that's half cry of pleasure and half sob escapes me, followed by his name.

"I know, love," he says.

His thrusts grow more insistent, and everything tightens before I let go again, flying, falling, drifting…

"Fuck," he mutters, and how one expletive can be so sexy, I'll never know. His back tenses under my touch, and his movements become more erratic as he groans and comes inside me. We ride it out together, his movements slacking until they become a slow roll, then stop altogether. His heaving chest presses against mine, his weight pressing me down as we catch our breath and kiss intermittently.

"That was—"

"Incredible," I agree.

He pulls out of me, rolls onto his back, and pulls me tightly to his side.

"I love you, Bella Swan," he whispers, running his fingers through my hair.

I'm in heaven, floating on a cloud with the love of my life, my head on his chest as it moves gently with the slower rise and fall of his breathing. "I love you, too," I tell him softly. "Always."