Many thanks to Nic and The Lemonade Stand blog for their kind mention.
Many thanks to rubiconqueen for her pimpage on her fic "A Crimson Change".
Don't get too excited, like I said, it's not a lemon, just a kumquat.
Chapter 8 – Monday, Tuesday
Monday
Bella Swan had never been in love. There was a time when she thought she was. At 17, she met an exotic transfer student to her school. He was a slender, extremely intelligent youth who loved books, spoke exquisite French and played the piano with a passionate mastery that belied his tender age. Bella was smitten. When it emerged that they would be going to universities in different countries, the young lovers shed many tears, lost their virginity to each other in a painful (for Bella) and awkward (for both) encounter and promised faithfully to call and write until they could be reunited.
In the whirl of university life, the phone calls lasted two weeks, the letters and emails two months. Near the end, Bella was horrified to discover that she could not even remember what her young lover looked like. The experience did not leave her traumatised, but did make her rather dismissive of her own feelings, and sceptical of romance in general.
In the years that followed, she received her fair share of romantic interest from the opposite sex, though she never courted the attention. She made little effort to enhance her looks with careful styling or flattering make-up. She didn't reject her femininity; it simply wasn't an important part of her identity. Bella found most of the boys her age immature, insipid and impatient. She decided to put romance on the back-burner, and it didn't bother her. She had her beloved father, her books and the beautiful estate to go home to. She was content.
The persistent attentions of a certain Edward Cullen left her utterly baffled.
"Edward, why me?"
They were seated next to each other on the sofa after hashing out the detailed terms of their wager. They agreed to keep her regular work and the wager separate, which meant no physical contact during her normal work hours. They would start at 4 p.m. everyday, for half an hour each day until the end of the week. No kissing on her lips. Contact was to be limited to her exposed skin only. They decided that accidental contact was inevitable, but any deliberate attempt by him to touch sensitive areas would result in forfeit.
Now that it was time to do the deed, they sat awkwardly on the sofa, close but not touching. "It's OK, we'll start slow," Edward said to no one in particular.
"Edward, you could have had anyone. Why me?"
He seemed surprised by the question. His eyes softened as he shifted closer to her.
"The first time I saw you," he began quietly, picking up her hand, "I thought you were the most adorable thing I had ever seen."
He held her hand to his cheek, closing his eyes. The cuff of her sleeve slipped down, revealing the scar on her inner forearm.
"You were wearing a little pink dress, and tiny ribbons in your hair." He started peppering the palm of her hand with soft kisses.
"You had mud all over your dress." He nuzzled her wrist, making her breath catch. He was now planting tender kisses along her scar between his words.
"You were." Kiss.
"The sweetest." Kiss.
"Kindest." Kiss.
"Littlest." Kiss.
"Tomboy." Kiss.
This gentle onslaught was not at all what Bella was expecting. And since when was the inner arm an erogenous zone? She was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into.
"I would see you by the river every summer." Edward cradled her face carefully, turning her to look into his eyes. "One summer...you must have been 17...I hadn't seen you for a year...I was rowing on the river, and there you were, asleep under the tree.
"You were curled up on your side, on a blanket. May I?" He gestured towards her hair. Reaching behind her, he released the single pin holding her careless bun together. He watched, mesmerised, as her locks fell about her shoulders. "Your hair was longer than I had ever seen on you." His thumb stroked her cheek. "You looked so grown-up, I realised you weren't that little girl any more." His large warm hands slipped down to curve around her neck.
"You had this little smile, like you were having the sweetest dream." He leaned in to kiss her mouth but stopped himself in time. The soft kiss landed and lingered on the very edge of her mouth instead. "You were," he whispered between light pecks along her jaw, "the loveliest creature I had ever seen."
From there, he gently assaulted every inch of her face. He tickled the downy hair along her hairline with his nose; he placed sweet kisses on her eyelids, her nose, her chin; he kissed the corners of her mouth with a desperation that made it clear he wished he were kissing her lips instead.
He laced his fingers with hers and held their hands by her side as he moved down to her neck.
His tongue. Oh god. His tongue.
His hot breath against her skin made her toes curl as he continued to murmur sweet words between licks and kisses. Bella was trying her best to contain her writhes and gasps. Were sweet nothings against the rules? Damn Edward Cullen. Damn her long neck.
She tried to distract him.
"But...when I saw you...in my father's library..." She had to stop because he was angling her face so he could lavish attention on the spot just behind her earlobe. "You were so..."
"Nervous...so nervous." His mouth travelled down the column of her neck and lingered on the curve where it met her shoulder. "You were...so beautiful...and so sad."
He nudged the neckline of her jumper back with his nose, finding more skin to taste. "I wanted to comfort you...But you hated me...Please don't hate me."
Bella couldn't remember why she hated Edward. It was very hard to think about hating Edward when he was licking the dip above her collar bone.
Bella soon gave up fighting her body's responses. By the end of the session, she was a hot, heaving mess.
When she got home that evening, she went straight to a mirror to examine herself. Her hair was a nest, her clothes dishevelled, and there was a fevered glint in her eyes. She touched her cheek – it was burning.
So this is what it's like, she thought to herself, to be adored by a man.
Tuesday
The next afternoon, Bella and Edward sat in the library, working at their respective desks. Rather, Edward was working; Bella was...watching.
Since their first kiss, she had been seeing Edward through new eyes. She began to notice the little things, like the soft pout of his lips when he was concentrating, or how his long lashes cast shadows on his face. Right now, she was intently studying the way the light carved out his jawline as he turned to look out of the window. Nothing wrong with admiring an attractive man, she decided. Besides, she wouldn't be here for much longer. At the rate they were going, Bella didn't think she would be able to work for Edward for long after wager was settled.
Edward yawned in front of his laptop, stretching his arms above his head before twisting his torso left and right to flex his upper body. Bella's eyes followed the movement of his muscles as they strained under his shirt. Lately, Edward had taken to removing his jumper when he entered the library, leaving only his collared shirt on. The library was usually kept quite warm, not that Bella minded: she was always cold.
A diabolical plan formed in her mind, and before she knew it, she was approaching his desk, sipping from her glass of water.
"Edward, I need to check something with you..." She tipped her water onto his shirt.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Bella hoped she sounded sincere.
"Don't worry about it. I'll just run up to my room and change."
"Or you could just change into your jumper. That would save you a trip. Don't you have to meet someone in 5 minutes?"
"Oh, that's not a bad idea actually. You don't mind if I just change quickly here?"
Bella smiled what she hoped was a neutral smile.
He turned his back to her and lifted his shirt over his head. For the few brief, glorious moments his back was uncovered, she was surprised by the indecently beautiful expanse of muscle before her and the way it flexed and rippled when he reached for his jumper. She had the strangest urge to lick his back. She frowned at herself, flummoxed. Were backs supposed to be tasty? She remembered that he rowed in the summer. Rowing, she decided, was a criminally underrated sport.
"What was it you wanted to ask me?" Regrettably, Edward was now fully-clothed. His hair had been mussed by the changing. Bella fought the urge to reach out and tidy it.
"Oh, it's nothing."
"All right then, I'll be off. I'll see you...at 4?" The faintest blush stained his cheeks.
Bella nodded. She definitely wouldn't be able to work for Edward for much longer.
At 4, Bella discovered that Edward had called in reinforcements from Scotland.
He settled down next to her on the sofa with a glass of Scotch whisky and an arch smile on his face. Bella raised a brow.
"You're not trying to get me drunk, are you?"
"No." He chuckled. "I like my women sober enough to call my name."
Bella resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Come on, I'll teach you how to taste this." Bella was reluctant. All she could remember from her brief flings with whisky was the fiery bite.
"Take a sniff, but just a little one, it's all alcohol vapour at this point." Bella leaned in and sniffed gingerly. Sure enough, she was hit with the familiar burn in her nostrils.
"This," Edward said rolling the glass lightly in his hand, "is a 30-year-old single malt. That's older than either you or me." The lush, amber liquid coated the walls of the glass and clung languidly before sliding back to the bottom.
"Here, smell it again. Take a deeper sniff this time. What do you smell?"
"It's...it's like burnt tangerines. Bonfire. And...a forest...after the rain."
"Excellent. Now take a little sip. Move it around your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing."
Bella took a sip, bracing herself for the burn. The burn was there, but with it came wave upon wave of flavour before the whisky slipped down her throat in a warm blaze.
"More citrus. Vanilla. Caramel...on toasted nuts. More smoke...the sea somehow. Does that make sense?"
"The smokiness is from the peat, and this distillery uses peat that contains seaweed. I knew it! You have a fantastic palate." Edward looked so pleased that Bella could not help smiling with him.
"So, is it just a whisky lesson today then?" Bella didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
"Of course not Isabella. I just wanted you to taste what I taste when I do this."
He dipped a finger in the whisky, dabbed a little on her fingertip and licked it off. The chill from the whisky as the alcohol evaporated was swiftly replaced by the warmth of his tongue. Bella stared at Edward, stunned. He merely smirked a little and repeated the slow process along her arm.
Dip.
Dab.
Lick.
On the inside of her wrist. On her inner forearm. The inside of her elbow.
Dip.
Dab.
Lick.
Bella cursed herself for letting her guard down and pushing up the sleeves of her top. She suppressed a whimper as the slight grittiness of his tongue brushed the inside of her elbow, over, and over.
It was like Chinese water torture, except she was slowly being driven insane by a thousand little licks and kisses.
She was terrified of him moving on to her neck.
She wished he would hurry up and move on to her neck.
Dip.
Dab.
Lick.
She got her wish. He started from the spot under the ear, where her jaw ended.
Dip.
Dab.
Lick.
The heady aroma of the whisky was much stronger now. She remembered the sensation of the liquor on her tongue and unconsciously licked her lips.
He must have noticed it, as he offered her more by holding a dipped finger above her. She waited impatiently for the drop of whisky to drip into her mouth, but it was taking too long.
She darted her tongue out to lick it. There was more. She licked his finger again.
Bella was suddenly aware that Edward had gone very, very still. He was gazing at her mouth with hooded eyes. He swallowed.
What's the big deal? She wondered. It's just a finger.
Oh.
Oh.
Bella was hit with an epiphany. She had been so busy trying to defend herself against Edward's advances, she forgot she could go on the offensive too. Between the two of them, she was clearly the less experienced. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her, what to say. She didn't think she could last the rest of the week at this rate.
All she had to do was distract him from his plans, or better yet, provoke him into touching the prohibited areas so he would have to forfeit their wager.
She decided to test her theory.
"More." She was surprised by the confident tone of her voice. Edward obligingly dipped his finger into the glass and held it to her.
She considered his finger briefly, trying to remember every sex scene she had ever read or watched. Taking a deep breath, she ran the tip of her tongue slowly from its base to the fingertip.
He made a sound from the back of his throat.
Encouraged, she flickered her tongue at the tip before taking the finger very slowly, millimetre by millimetre, into her mouth.
By the end of the session, Edward was a hot, heaving mess.
Bella was triumphant.
A new plan for the next day was slowly forming in her head. It would have to start with her wardrobe.
A/N:
The gratuitous naked back scene was inspired by the gratuitous naked back 'headboard' shot from the new Breaking Dawn trailer.
So...the next chapter should be fun. It should be out very soon, provided I don't get drunk on whisky.