CHAPTER TEN: NAKED
The Town
Before
I am a homeowner. We have a house and a mortgage. We will be paying for this place forever. And I don't even care. The look on Bella's face when we unlocked the front door for the first time is worth more than the rest of it.
The living room is piled high with empty boxes.
"Did you ever make forts when you were little?" she asks, peeking out from a pile of cardboard, her hair falling from her ponytail.
I watch her smile. "Yeah," I lie. I have no memory of such things.
Bella hasn't stopped smiling all day. It's this house. It makes her giddy.
I begin carrying all of the boxes labeled bedroom upstairs. The third step is slightly taller than all the rest. I almost trip every time.
The only furniture in our room is a bare mattress on the floor. The frame won't arrive until next week.
I rifle through the boxes until I find our bed sheets. I'm going to get my wife naked in our bed on our first night in our house. I plan on keeping her up all night.
I probably should have bought candles or roses or something. She says she doesn't care about that kind of stuff, but I think she might be lying. Girls are supposed to like romance, I'm just not exactly sure what that means.
"Bella!" I shout down the stairs.
"What?"
"Come up here. I made the bed."
She laughs. It's the best laugh, even if it means she's not going to give me what I want.
"I'm not having sex with you until the kitchen is unpacked, Edward."
I take the stairs two at a time. I can unpack boxes.
I watch her from the doorway, her hips swaying to silent music. She has boxes on top of all of the counters, drawers and cupboards wide open.
I start to pull random kitchen things out of one of the smaller boxes.
"You know it will be faster if you just let me do it," she says without turning around. I can hear the smirk in her voice. She knows she's right.
"But I'm helping," I explain, wrapping her up in my arms and tucking my chin over her shoulder. I brush her hair to the side and kiss along her neck. She tries her best to ignore me.
My hands won't stay put. I find that sliver of skin between her shirt and her jeans. It's my favorite. She sighs long and low, and for a second I think I might have her.
"You know I love those hands."
"So you claim."
Turning in my arms, she stands up on her tiptoes and pulls me down until we're at eye level. "Go shower. You smell like the gym. I'll be finished in an hour. I promise."
I groan as she turns back towards the boxes, leaving me wanting.
"The longer you stand there loud breathing, the longer this is going to take me."
With one last groan, I head for the stairs.
"Edward?"
"Bella."
"I love you more than anything."
"More than the kitchen?"
"Somewhere between the kitchen and the bathroom." And then she laughs and I want to pick her up and carry her up the stairs. Fuck the kitchen.
But I leave her be. Because I can be patient.
The stairs creak and moan with each step. I wonder how long it will take before I memorize their protests.
I turn the shower on and wait for the entire bathroom to be filled with steam.
The little door with the ironing board won't stay closed. I leave it open. It's the perfect spot to hang my clothes anyway.
The tub is one of those old claw foot ones with a shower curtain that goes all the way around. I thought Bella was going to hit me when I suggested we replace it. She says it's her seventh favorite part of this house and she wants to keep it forever.
I just love the way she loves.
I stick my head out of the bathroom door. "Bella!"
"What?" she shouts back from downstairs.
"I need your help."
"Right now?"
"Right now."
I peel off my socks and step under the spray of the shower, fumbling with the temperature as the water scalds my skin. Bella always tests the temperature first. Sometimes I just think she is better at life than I am. But it's okay, because I have her forever.
As the water begins to heat up, I hear her. "Edward?"
"In here."
I can see her with her hands on her hips through the shower curtain. I wash my hair and try not to laugh. She pulls the curtain back and I can't contain my smile. I can't.
"I thought you needed my help," she laughs disapprovingly.
I motion down. "Yeah. I do."
She shakes her head, suddenly shy and blushing. Like she's never seen me naked and turned on before.
"Come here," I practically beg.
"No."
"You're wearing too many clothes," I plead.
"I'm wearing just the right amount of clothes for unpacking."
"Well it's time to take a break. It's time to christen the shower, Bella." I try to say it with a straight face.
I reach out and pull at the hem of her shirt. She swats my hand away.
But her smile.
"I'm not getting naked with you right now." She's so cute when she's stubborn that I barely hear the words.
I see my chance and I take it, grabbing her while she's still in arm's reach. Her shrieks fill the tiny space. She tries to fight me but her laugh gives her away.
I hold her tight, covering her face in sloppy wet kisses. Until she's no longer protesting. Until she is melting into me.
With one lift, she's over the edge of the tub. We stumble and slip, but find our balance without falling.
Soaking wet and fully clothed, she pushes against my chest. "I hate you."
"You could never hate me." I smile into her neck, holding her close to me under the spray of the water.
My lips drag over her wet face. I love her skin. How she tastes. How she feels. I love her hair. How it gets all wild around her face.
I love her in the shower with all of her clothes on.
"You are so fucking sexy."
"You're a liar."
I suck at the hollow of her neck. Lips and tongue and teeth. "So fucking sexy."
My hands roam her wet body searching for skin.
The sounds she makes. They could ruin a man.
The way her fingertips press into my stubble. The way she demands my mouth on hers. Like she is the one who dragged me in here.
She's still fully clothed, while I'm completely naked. I love it and hate it.
"You are in so much trouble," she smiles, shaking her head.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
I kiss her slowly until her clothes are sloppy wet and we're both drowning.
She pulls on my earlobe as she drags her lips along my jaw.
I help her pull her shirt up and over and let it fall with a smack to the bottom of the tub.
Her nipples pucker underneath her bra, and that needs to come off too. I watch her face as I undo the clasp and pull it from her body. And she knows exactly what she does to me. She has to know.
She's no longer laughing as I lift her into my arms, trying not to lose my balance. Still in her jeans, with her legs around my waist, her tits are at eye level. She has the prettiest tits.
They are so perfect in my hands. So warm and soft.
Her fingers trail through my hair as I take her nipple in my mouth. I kiss and nip, when I want to devour.
She wiggles against my stomach. "Who am I to you, Edward?" she teases.
"You're just the girl I kiss," I tease back.
She leans down, capturing my lips. She's the girl I kiss. And the girl I love. And the girl I married. She likes old houses. And Sunday breakfast. And sex in the morning.
One hand slides down the back of her jeans, grabbing her ass.
I need her naked.
"Bed," she practically grunts against my lips.
"What?"
"Take me to bed," she whispers against my ear, her tongue running along my skin, driving me goddamn insane.
She tries to stand on her own two feet, but I refuse to let go of her. We fumble out of the bathroom, slippery feet on cold tile. We run into anything and everything on the way to the bed. Her mouth is so fucking good. Her everything is so fucking good.
"We're soaking wet," she laughs as I lower her onto the sheets.
"I don't care."
She watches me as I unbutton her jeans and slowly peel them from her skin.
I feel like I'm eighteen, like I'm just about to have sex with the prettiest girl and I'm going to lose it before I even get inside of her.
The room is lit with late afternoon sun. She looks so soft. I hover over her naked body without touching her.
Her lashes are heavy, her hair tangled across the sheets. "Kiss me," she begs.
"I don't deserve you," I promise her as I press my lips to hers, as our mouths push and pull. Her tongue is Heaven on earth.
"Do you remember when we first saw this room?" she asks, entirely breathless.
"This is where our bed would go," I tell her, pressing her firmly to the mattress.
She kisses me like she did then, like I am to her what she is to me. She's so convincing, I believe her. I do.
"Imagine what you could do to me right now if this was our home," she taunts, stretching her arms up over her head.
I bury my face in her perfect tits. I am so thankful that I don't have to imagine.
I kiss her bare hip, eyes locked on her honest eyes.
My mouth hovers over where she is aching. Until I've tortured her enough. She looks at me like it's the first time I've ever put my mouth on her.
She doesn't look away. And the sounds she makes. Like I'm all she's ever wanted in the world. I grip her hips, holding her to me. Until she's writhing. All breathless whispers.
I want to tell her that she doesn't have to be quiet in this house.
And she knows. Together in our room, she is anything but quiet.
I need to be inside of her. Or I might die. Right here on these wet sheets.
I stalk over her naked body, holding myself over her as her chest heaves up and down.
Her gentle hands roam over my shoulders, down my chest, lower, lower, lower.
My mouth hovers over hers. We breathe the same air.
Her entire body is covered in goose bumps, the air in the room too cold.
She whispers something against my lips that I can't understand.
I don't have to die today, because she is guiding me to her.
I'm inside of her and it's so much better than anything else could ever be.
I try to go slow. I try to make it good for her.
On a mattress on the floor, on our first afternoon in this falling down house that belongs to us, I make love to my wife.
Her fists grip the sheets. I want her hands. Her eyes flutter closed. I want her to see me.
I want every bit of her.
I take what I want. Our fingers tangled together, I hold on to her with everything I have. "Look at me," I whisper. She doesn't make me beg.
She meets every slow thrust, her warm body rocking beneath me.
That look in her eyes right before she comes undone. It's like she really does sees me. Eyes open and boring into mine, I swear she sees me.
She sees everything. And I let her.
Her eyes are so brown and so impossible. Her cheeks the best pink and her lips perfectly parted.
And even if I couldn't feel her, I'd be able to see her and hear her fall to pieces.
She is breathless and spent. My lips press softly to her throat.
I roll us to our sides, grasping the smooth skin behind her knee. My flat palm slides up her leg greedily.
Having her like this, so completely, I feel ridiculous for ever thinking I was going to destroy her.
Like this, we are perfect.
Chasing my release is like that first drag of a cigarette. I just want to keep it and hold on.
I can't think or breathe or see. I can only move.
I can only take. I can only devour her. I can only drown in how good she is; how good she feels; how good she makes me want to be.
I am so close. So fucking close. I want to feel this forever. This almost feeling.
There are words but I don't know what I'm speaking.
With one final thrust, I'm panting her name and holding her to me as if she could disappear at any moment.
She is everything.
Everything.
I grip her hip until I feel like I might shatter her bones. But she holds me just as tight and I'm not breaking.
We lie in our bed, tangled up in each other, until our breathing has evened out. I pull the sheet up and over, cocooning us in.
She pecks at my lips. "Want to know something?"
I blink back at her. A little afraid of who we are. "Always."
"I officially love you more than I love the bathroom," she jokes. I stare at her lips. Her eyes. Her everything. Wondering if maybe she doesn't feel with the same intensity that I do.
"But that bathtub is your seventh favorite thing," I try to play along, my voice barely audible.
"I know. You better watch out. Next thing you know, I'll love you more than the dining room." The way she says it, I can't help but laugh.
"Not the dining room."
We lie nose to nose and I just can't get enough of her. And the way our kisses sound in an empty room when we're skin to skin.
"This is my favorite thing," I tell her. And I'm being entirely and completely honest.
"Sex can't be your favorite thing," she smiles.
"Why not?" I ask, trailing my fingertips back and forth over her hip.
"Because it can't."
"Fine, I wasn't going to say sex anyway."
"Oh, no?"
"No."
I bite her bottom lip gently, pulling at her perfect mouth. Rolling on top of her, I cover her with the weight of my body.
"What's your favorite thing, Edward?" she gasps, as we kiss and kiss and kiss.
"Kissing you naked in our house. I want to kiss you naked in our house forever."
I want to suffocate in your expectations.
I want to live in the world as you see it.
I want to die trying.
I want. I want. I want.
-HL-
A/N:
Barely made it, but I'm pretty sure it's still Monday.
Susan takes the girlie words away from Edward. Be very, very thankful for her.
Kim gets an award for reading the several drafts of this chapter.
CC tells me when I'm holding back.
Next update will most likely be in two weeks, but I'll update sooner if I can pull it off :)