Readers- You fill my soul with joy. The kind that fills with moisture in inappropiate places, but joy nevertheless...
Chapter 16:
"Housekeeping! I've arrived with breakfast!"
Isabella answered the door to only a tired, but cheerful voice. Bent behind a cart filled with platters and coverings was a female form.
"Ugh, these darn wheels. Always getting stuck-" the voice stopped abruptly when she discovered the door was open.
"Oh, forgive me!" The woman behind the apology stood up, and Isabella released her towel into a pool of material at her feet.
It couldn't be.
Her immediate action was not of that to cover her nudity, but instead, to conceal the astonishment that exposed her face.
Emerald eyes which mirrored the current man showering in the bathroom radiated back at her.
Edward's mother. She would recognize those jade-coloured orbs anywhere. But here, in the present, they shone much brighter than the black and white photos which Jasper had given her.
"Dear! Let me get that!" The housekeeper fumbled for Isabella's towel, holding it open for Isabella to grasp. She did just that, only in slow motion, immovable in a stupor of her musings.
"Th-thank you," Isabella managed to sputter out. Try as she might, Isabella could do nothing further than swathe the Egyptian cotton around her nude body and endure their silence.
"Ma'am? Would you like for me to come back at a later time?"
"NO!" Isabella shouted much too loudly. "I mean, no. Now is fine."
"Ok, then. I will just set the food up for you and be on my way," the older woman suggested. Isabella stepped to the side as the wobbly cart strolled its way past her.
"Once again, I'm sorry to startle you. I'm Esme by the way. Its my first day here and I'm not used to the fancy equipment they have. I used to work at the old Bed and Breakfast, you know, the one out on Kingsley Street, but this place needed additional help. My manager was nice enough to recommend me, and the pay is good, but I've been working all night, and my feet are hurtin' some kinda bad, and…" Esme trailed off, ashamed of her babbling. "I've done it again. I'm sorry ma'am. If you wish to let management know you want a different housekeeper, I will not be offended in the slightest. Just let me spread out your food first."
Esme, genuinely mortified at her conduct, tried her best to appease the situation. Her first day and she was already making mistakes. With quickened precision, she laid out the gourmet feast in two settings, pouring glasses of juice and setting out sugar cubes for coffee. Each utensil was perfectly aligned with the plates, and when she stood back to admire her work, she brushed her hands against her grey uniform.
"Will that be all?" Esme asked, giving her best smile. It was the least she could do before she was demoted to dishwasher or fired.
"No…no, that is it. Thank you," Isabella answered graciously. She allowed Esme to nearly exit the room before she blocked her path.
"Um, Mrs. Cyllen?" she asked hesitantly.
A slip of the tongue was all it took. Isabella realized her blunder before the saliva could even dry on her lip.
"How do you know my last name?" Esme inquired, raising an eyebrow.
If the floor could consume her whole, Isabella would gladly accept it. This encounter could not possibly get any worse.
No, wait. Isabella thought dreadfully. It could. Edward could walk out at any moment.
Fighting for control of her bearings, Isabella planned on putting an end to this disastrous engagement. She could not possibly dream of a plausible reason as to why she would know Esme's last name, but the woman put her out of her misery.
"Don't worry. I'm sure everyone in this city knows I'm a Cyllen. You can't escape who you are," she uttered sorrowfully. Esme knew all to well the pitfalls of being the wife to a convict. She had been ridiculed beyond anything she had ever imagined, but it was her responsibility to become more than what others thought of her.
"But, what is it you wanted to ask me dear?"
What did Isabella want to ask of her? Surely there had to be a reason. But inwardly, Isabella just craved more of her company. She desired to know anything and everything about her, as well as her son.
However, dreams of conversations with the enemy were deceiving nightmares. Gallivanting with the son was one matter she could explain away for financial gain. But the mother? It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. So Isabella tightened the towel around her.
"Do you know what time the room will be cleaned?"
Esme's soft laughter rang through the space, pulsating on every wall. "Noon dear. I will be back then. If you are not available, feel free to leave a list of any extra requests and I shall see to it, then. Have a good day ma'am."
And on that note, Isabella shut the door as a dripping wet Edward came out of the bathroom, a low-slung towel the only barrier between her and the promised land. As much as she would like to ravish his body for all he was worth, her stomach had other ideas. That, and the meeting with his mother was still unsettling on her nerves.
"Was that housekeeping?" Edward glanced around and answered his own question. "Oooh, food. I am starving!"
Isabella could not help the smile that crossed her face at his child-like behavior. Edward minded his manners and pulled her chair out first, then sat across from her. It didn't help the warmth between her legs as Edward sat bare-chested, spreading butter on his toast.
"Are you done?" he asked, not looking at her.
"Done?" She was confounded by his question. She had yet to even eat, much less take a sip of orange juice.
"Staring at my body like a piece of meat. Are you done?" His voice had an edge of abrasiveness, prickling her in all of the wrong areas.
Instead of answering, Isabella dipped her finger into the strawberry jam, and reached across the table, wiping it on his collarbone.
"Done?" she repeated, making her way onto his lap.
"Not even close."
O.O.O.O.O.O
It was an hour later that Harry called Isabella's phone alerting her of his arrival. She brushed her skirt down just as Edward was tying his shoes. She tried her best not to gaze at his elongated fingers.
Her nipples, a dark pink and hardened at the sight.
His gaze, traveling from each breasts to the other.
Her tongue deliberately and methodically licking the jam from his neck.
His groan, as his fingers slid between her folds, testing the smoothness of her skin.
Her mouth. On him. His length. Licking. Sucking. Bobbing.
He was close to explosion.
She was tempted for more.
His erection, her bounce.
Her grind, his thrusts.
Each touch, each taste, each scream.
Every buck and flick and clench and moan….
It ended frantically. Food everywhere. Hearts beating too fast for its pace. Voices shaky. Legs wobbly.
Explosions intensified.
Isabella cleared her throat, and grabbed her clutch with her phone. "Meet you downstairs?"
"Um, sure." Edward answered timorously. He had yet to regain his bearings, and wondered how this day was going to go. Instead, he rushed out the door, leaving Isabella to finish getting decent and met a laughing Harry outside.
"Sleep well?" he joked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Edward jabbed back, and slid into the seat. He waited patiently for Isabella to enter the vehicle, scooting to the side to make room for her luscious legs.
After a long ten minutes, they were on their way. Isabella made sure Edward kept quiet about their arrangement, and they both agreed silence was best. No need for another Emmett Debacle Part Two.
As Harry pulled into the front entrance of their building, Edward twisted his head at a woman entering the doors who looked noticeably familiar. Isabella, on the other hand, clutched her purse tighter, aware of the now empty contents.
Esme Cyllen pushed her cleaning cart down the hotel's hallway grateful for a new job.
Deciding she should start cleaning the rooms early, and hoping she wasn't invading anyone's privacy, she proceeded to knock then opened the door to room 2103.
Esme Cyllen was astonished at the gift of three hundred dollar bills that was enclosed into an envelope with her name on it.
But not as shocked as what she found on the floor next to a bottle of wine, a garter belt…
And a business card.