Edward saved me from most of the pain, but I still spent a significant portion of the day dealing with wedding plans. I made it through heated discussions between Rosalie and Alice on different types of lace and the virtues of different shades of white. Edward finally cut Alice off when we started discussing alternative guest book options. That's why I loved him.

I happily spent the last few hours before dinner alone with Edward, tossing rocks into the river behind his house. We chatted idly about his few remaining childhood memories, and I shared the story about the time I'd fallen into a cactus and had to go to the emergency room. After our lazy day, I returned home to cook dinner for Charlie and spend a comfortably quiet evening together. I didn't mind the silence. It was a companionable existence with Charlie. And after the day spent talking with Alice about wedding plans, I was ready for a break.

I cleaned up in the kitchen and sent Charlie off to his nightly programming. I could hear sportsball of some kind coming from the living room and I let my mind wander while I washed dishes and wiped counters. I stored the leftovers in the fridge for Charlie's lunch tomorrow. I briefly considered trying to figure out a way to stock up the freezer with a year's worth of food. Charlie's diet was going to be awful after I couldn't cook for him anymore. And I wouldn't be able to see him until I regained some kind of control over my thirst. It could take years. Who was going to take care of Charlie? Why were there always choices and sacrifices to be made? I shook off the sadness of losing him. It was the price I had to pay to be with Edward. And Charlie was an adult. He'd been taking care of himself for years before I came back into his life.

I focused on my plan for tonight as I showered and dressed for the night. When I was done, I listened intently for Charlie's snores. I couldn't hear anything, but Edward showed up in my room a few minutes later. Charlie must be sleeping already. The sight of him in his pajamas brought a warm feeling into my heart. He didn't even need them, really. He was doing so much for me.

"I missed you."

"I missed you as well. How was dinner?"

"Fine. Charlie ate in front of the tv, and we watched some kind of baseball thing happening. Charlie was excited about it."

Edward laughed, "You mean the World Series?"

"Yeah. That one." I hopped onto the bed and snuggled under the covers eagerly. I had plans for tonight.

"So, what's on the desensitizing agenda for tonight, Ms. Swan?" Edward lay back on my bed with his hands behind his head. His foot was crossed over the opposite ankle - the picture of ease. I knew better. But he was trying really hard to feel comfortable with this whole process.

"I thought that I could give you a massage tonight?" It came out like a question, the last words unsure and high pitched. I had no idea if he would go for this.

"What would that be helping to desensitize?"

"Well, I thought you could take your shirt off, for starters. That would help me get used to seeing you..." I was about to say 'naked' but chickened out. "Seeing more of your skin. And you can desensitize to me touching you at the same time. "

He considered my argument. "I'm not sure how effective the actual massage will be on me. But it can't hurt, as they say. As long as you promise me you won't push so hard you break something."

"I'll be gentle on you," I teased.

"I'm more concerned about breaking you," he said.

I gave him a long look until he realized I was joking. He needed to relax a little. I had learned over the past nights that it was best to get Edward in the right frame of mind before we started. If he was tense and worried, things didn't go well.

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "I'm ready. Take off your shirt."

He quirked his eyebrow at me. I stuck my tongue out at him and sat back on my heels, waiting for him to comply. I will not jump him. I will not ogle him. I will not turn into Attack Bella.

He sat up and removed his shirt at a human pace. Teasing me no doubt. I watched his abs contract and his biceps pull as he worked the shirt over his head. I had to remind myself not to drool. His body was perfect. And rock solid. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers across his stomach muscles, just to feel the little ripples there. Or maybe his perfect square pecks. Strong, but not too big. His chest was defined. Yes, that was the word I was looking for. Or was it divine? His chest was divine. Was my mouth hanging open?

After a moment of watching me watch him, he turned over onto his stomach. Right. Massage. I reached for the massage lotion on the nightstand.

"I'm not sure that will help," he interjected. "My skin won't absorb it like yours does. But you can try it if you think it will help. We'll just have to wipe it off afterward." He shrugged his shoulders and I was temporarily distracted by the muscles moving across his back.

Reconsidering the lotion, I settled back onto my heels. I scooted closer to his side, kneeling next to him. His shoulders were broad. They angled down into a trim waist that was still wider than the span of my two hands together. I was momentarily distracted by the band of his pajama bottoms which hit just at his hips, accentuating the curve of his butt. I hadn't had enough opportunities to stare at his butt.

It was going to be awkward leaning over him trying to reach both of his shoulders with my hands. The easiest way would be if I straddled his back. I debated if I had enough courage to do that. Should I ask him first? Do I ask for permission or forgiveness? I swung my leg over his hips, and settled myself directly on his butt. I waited for a reaction, but he didn't say anything. Since he didn't freak out, and my weight certainly wasn't going to bother him, I focused on the task at hand. I decided to start with his shoulders and work my way down. I placed a hands on one side and started kneading. I wasn't a massaging expert by any means, but his skin was completely unyielding to my touch. I wasn't sure if it even felt nice to him.

I squeezed as hard as I could, but it was like squeezing a rock in my hand. He tried to stifle a laugh with a cough. "Don't break anything."

Very funny. I wasn't going to give up that easily.

I had suspected that the massage part of my plan wouldn't be very effective, but I had more ideas. Since pressure wasn't going to work, perhaps I could focus on sensation. I trailed my short fingernails gently along the tops of his shoulders, sloping down over his biceps. I watched in fascination as little goose bumps raised on his arms. Woah. I didn't know that could happen. I ran a finger over the raised flesh out of curiosity.

He made a little noise from the back of his throat. Sort of a mix between a growl and a groan. What I would have called a purr if he were a cat. I took that as a positive sign. I stroked my nails lightly over his back and shoulders, creating invisible patterns with my fingers. After I completed my circuit a few times, I switched to running my palms slowly over his back, shoulders and arms. He seemed to enjoy that as well. I could feel his skin warming slightly from my touch. I knew it wasn't physically possible, but I imagined that my massage was unwinding tension in his muscles.

I paused, not quite ready to give up my perch, but unsure what else I could do with my hands. I considered his back. I had touched every square inch of exposed skin there.

"Is it okay if I massage your scalp?" I asked quietly, not wanting to break into his relaxation.

He lifted his head slightly and opened one eye, gauging my reaction. "I thought my hair was off limits?" His smile let me know he was teasing me about my infatuation with his silky locks.

I shrugged. "I think I can handle it if you keep very still." I hoped my tone properly conveyed that I wanted to stick my tongue out at him.

He gave me a doubtful look.

"I'll even give up my comfy seat here, so I'm not touching you anywhere else." I swung off his back and knelt next to him on the bed. A small frown passed over his face, and I bit my lip. He liked me sitting on top of him. A little thrill of victory went through me. I'd have to remember that.

He moved so his head was resting on his forearms. The new position made his biceps flex. I threaded my fingers into his hair, rubbing against his scalp with my finger tips. I had to admit that I did enjoy the feel of his hair slipping between my fingers. I pulled it gently away from his head in little fistfuls. I loved every second of it. Curious about something I had seen Edward do countless times before, I leaned in and sniffed his hair. It smelled like him, but in a concentrated way. Not as powerful as his honey sweet breath, but definitely good.

He flipped over onto his back. The laughter in his eyes let me know I had been caught.

"Were you just smelling my hair?"

I shrugged, caught red-handed. "You smell good." I didn't feel embarrassed since I wasn't actually trying to be sneaky about it.

He playfully wrestled me into his embrace, resting my head against his bare chest. He buried his face in my hair and took a deep breath. "You smell better."

I heard him growl lowly in his chest and I felt my whole body vibrate with excited anticipation. My heart started beating wildly. I hoped he didn't misinterpret my reaction for fear. It was all desire. I lifted my head and stared into his eyes. I actually saw them turn darker. It was fascinating and intensely sexy.

Suddenly, I was laying on my back across my bed. Edward's knees straddled my hips and his strong arms rested on either side of my head. I couldn't feel any of his weight as he hovered over me. The few inches between us felt electrified. Without even touching me, I felt a thrill at his aggressive claim over my body. I took the opportunity to drag my fingers down his chiseled chest and along those abs I'd been admiring earlier. He closed his eyes, and did that purring thing again. I exhaled in shock at the effect I was having over him. This was amazing.

I paused in my exploration of his perfect chest, realizing I could be pushing things too far again.

He opened his eyes. They were still black, but he was in control. I smiled and bit my lip thinking about what I could do next. His black eyes focused on the lip I held between my teeth. I released it, and caught my breath.

His lips came crashing into mine. I moaned in response to his passionate kisses. I was entirely too excited. If I had been less aroused, I would have been embarrassed at the noises I was making.

He broke away from my lips. Disappointment flooded me.

"Breathe, love." I took a deep breathe and realized he wasn't ending everything. He was trying to help us stay in control so we could continue this longer. Determined not to ruin things, I obediently dragged in air to fill my deprived lungs. I really needed to remember how to breathe on my own.

I was watching his eyes -my barometer for his control- or I would have missed his split-second appreciative look at my admittedly heaving chest. His gaze quickly continued down to my midsection and I felt a tingle there as well. What this man could do to me with his eyes alone was ridiculous. He lifted the hem of my shirt to reveal a fraction of the skin along my stomach. He ran his fingers along the exposed skin. I shivered in pleasure.

I reached down and pulled the shirt up a few inches higher exposing my entire stomach. I was very aware that I wasn't wearing a bra tonight. I had to go slow.

His eyes were intense. He gathered my hands in his own and gently placed them above my head, crossed at the wrists.

"To keep them out of trouble," he whispered. Oops. Maybe I was moving too fast for him.

He placed his palms on either side of my navel and slowly dragged them up my stomach. I couldn't help but arch into his touch as they came to rest at the bottom of my shirt. His fingers splayed around my ribcage. Just a few inches more. I begged him to hear my thoughts, written plainly across my face. But his hands remained immobile.

"Edward."

He looked at me. I could see the war raging in his eyes; his morals and his desire fighting for control.

"I want you to touch me."

His eyes dropped again to his hands, frozen in indecision below my shirt.

I decided I would have to take a more direct approach. I slowly lowered my own hands to cover his. "Please," I whispered, my desire raw in my voice.

He wasn't able to deny my something I really wanted. Maybe it was unfair to use that against him, but I felt the tension in his arms relax. I guided his hands over the bunched fabric of my shirt on top of my breasts. I didn't have a plan after that point, but I didn't have to worry. His hands cupped me gently, but firmly. His thumbs stroked over the tops of my breasts and I shivered with pleasure.

"Oh Bella," he groaned.

I couldn't even speak. Pleasure overloaded my ability to think coherently. I wished I had worn the tank top to bed again. The neckline was so much lower and the fabric so much thinner. There were way too many layers of clothing between me and his hands.

He explored gently, squeezing and caressing me. Twice more, he ran the pads of his thumbs over the tops of my breasts. Pleasure shot through my body. I twisted my hands into the sheets beneath me.

His hand released me, and I wanted to cry at the loss. If he left me at this moment, I would lose it for another reason all together. Thankfully, he moved to lay next to me, our bodies still touching. I turned into him wanting to feel him in any way I could. He helped me come down from my lust-filled craze with his gentle kisses and caresses. Soon we were kissing sweetly.

His eyes, although darker than their original amber, were no longer black. He stroked along my face and arms with the backs of his fingers. I kissed him on the nose as he had so often done to me. He chuckled, recognizing the gesture.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. Not only had he pushed the boundaries farther than I would have dreamed possible even a month ago, he had helped keep us both under control.

He shook his head, love and humor light in his eyes. I knew he was thinking about the supposed irony of me thanking him for how he touched me. I'm sure in his day it would have been scandalous. It just made me love him more. He was willing to do so much for me.

He opened his mouth and I steeled myself to defend what we were doing.

"You've got to learn to use that safe word, love. It's really not fair to expect the vampire in the relationship to have all the self-control."

I laughed at his uncharacteristic joke, but took the message seriously. I really did need to learn to control myself. Or be willing to use the safe word. Edward had proven to me that he wasn't going to run away every time things got heated. I resolved to do better. But I couldn't resist a little jab in return. "I can't help that you're irresistible."

There would probably need to be reassurances later about what had just happened between us. And I should tell him that I planned to try harder on the safe word. But for now, I fell asleep happily in his arms, snuggled against his bare chest.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended on the works of Stephenie Meyer.