A/N:
Thank you to What The Fun for prereading, even while on vacation :)
"Sentimental fellow, aren't you?"
- Thompson
May 1, 2010
Bella
"I think you should have unlocked the door before you picked me up," I observe teasingly.
"Shh. I didn't think of that at the time."
"Well, just put me down now and do it," I suggest, mid-laugh.
"I can't," Edward insists. "A second try might negate the whole point."
"What is the point, again?"
"I think it's supposed to ward off bad luck. That includes keeping you from tripping through the doorway."
I tighten my arms around his neck.
"Actually, that does sound like something I might do."
He kisses my forehead, juggling me and the key that he has finally retrieved from his pocket.
"Exactly."
My head turns toward the knob when his hand stills, no longer smashing metal against metal.
"Oh! Did you..."
"Yep. I got it." His voice is so proud.
Edward pushes open the door, successfully bringing us into the house. He gently sets me down without any encouragement or threats, showing how fatigued he is after our dilemma.
I'm barely steady on my feet when Edward is leapt on, forced to accept an embrace.
The attacker is a woman somewhere between middle and old age, speaking quickly in what I assume is French. She's in crisp and attractive clothing, though it is probably becoming more wrinkled by the second.
I watch, wide-eyed, as my husband is hugged and peppered with cheek kisses. If this woman was twenty years younger, I'd totally be jealous. But as she is not, I settle for being thoroughly befuddled.
She ruffles Edward's unruly hair, displaying undeniable maternal affection. Edward makes a show of swatting at her hand, but in reality, he doesn't even let himself make contact.
My lips turn up at their adorable display, but I can't hide the fact that I'm confused. The stranger is still spouting out words I have no comprehension of, highlighting how worthless my foreign language skills are right now.
I only know some high school Spanish, since the subject lured me in with promises of fun and fiestas.
Damn it.
Edward's eyes catch mine as he looks over her shoulder, witnessing my fidgeting. His expression turns apologetic as he leads her back to the doorway. With all the excitement, their feet have taken them a considerable distance.
Edward wraps one arm around my middle as the woman stands across from us, studying me closely...spaghetti straps, Keds and all. Even though she seems friendly, I still feel a little uncomfortable. It's obvious that they have known each other a long time, and I can't help but feel that she's sizing me up.
Edward pulls me closer, easing my anxiety just a little.
"Carmen," he introduces before gesturing to me proudly. "Ma belle femme."
"Ah, Isabella! Bienvenue à Nice!"
Uh...
"She speaks English, too," Edward whispers against my ear. I smile gratefully.
"Hello, Carmen."
She smiles back, continuing on in American English. She must sense that I don't want to play, since I didn't even feel comfortable enough to offer a bonjour.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude earlier. After hearing Edward talk about his Isabella so much, it is great to finally meet you," she says kindly. Fortunately, I'm unable to detect an insincere syllable.
"Everything is ready for you both. The kitchen is stocked, clean towels are in the closet, the room is finished... I think you will really like what we did with it. We decided on blue walls and a new floor the color of sable..."
Carmen runs a hand through her gray-streaked hair as she trails off, emphasizing the dichotomy between her age and youthful personality.
"Eli is shopping right now, but I'm sure you will run into him later - only if you want to, of course. We want to give you your privacy, so just stop by and visit us whenever you need something or when you get lonely," she continues cheerfully, stopping to regard the two of us fondly. I wonder if she can see the red tint to my cheeks.
"Thank you, Carmen. We will," Edward assures.
"Good. Oh, I'm so happy you're here!"
Perhaps sensing my bewilderment, Carmen simply grasps my hand before giving Edward one last kiss on the cheek. Then, like a sudden storm, she's gone.
Edward tugs on my freshly-squeezed hand, encouraging me to follow him once she's out of sight. I obey, still feeling slightly dazed. The red-eye flight must have worn me too thin.
"Carmen and her husband live in the guest house year-round, keeping an eye on the property," Edward explains as we walk toward the living room. "I asked her to redecorate the spare room so it would be more relaxing. It's always been used for storage, so no one ever bothered to get rid of the ugly wallpaper."
He opens the bedroom door once we reach it, letting me step inside first. I'm more interested in seeing the space than I'll admit, secretly having watched too many home decorating shows on TLC.
Being drawn to the colors right away, I notice that the ceiling and walls are a sky blue. Where one might otherwise find crown molding, swipes of sponged, white paint exist.
Edward looks around, admiring the furniture at the same time I do. It's made of hardwood and wicker, all pulled together with splashes of green-like-his-eyes.
I glance near my feet, at the beige, wooden floor that resembles a soft beach.
We could probably build sandcastles with moats in here, and nothing would look out of place.
My gaze turns toward the large canopy bed, remaining there for far too long.
I know I should be thinking about doing dirty, dirty things on it, but all I can see is how soft and cushy it is. Because that heavenly bed will be a perfect cure for my fatigue-induced teetering.
Silly or not, I just couldn't seem to let myself sleep through my first plane ride.
I look over at Edward, hoping he'll understand. We've waited so long; I'd really like to be awake when we finally have sex.
He nods and smiles kindly, only a bit of disappointment seeping through. My lusty stare at the pillows has not gone unnoticed.
"Nap?" he prompts, slipping his arm around my waist in an encouraging gesture.
I smile back, my mind already going over wonderfully sordid ways to thank him later.
"Nap."
May 5, 2010
Bella
Edward kisses me sweetly and chastely, silently decorating my face with a million little I love yous.
He stops every now and again, taking quick, brazen peeks at my bikini as he hovers over my body.
I squirm when his hands roam over the side of my breast and my ribs, tickling them slightly. I love his reverent attentions, but I definitely need more.
Grabbing a fistful of hair, I bring his lips to mine with a lot more force. Edward appeases my impatience in turn, firmly pressing against me to regain dominance.
He shifts slightly, moving until I feel his knee pressing between my legs. My whole body hums when I instinctively bring my hips forward, strengthening the contact.
I'm lost in blissful, buzzing nerve endings when Edward suddenly flips us over, letting his back take the brunt of the hard rocks beneath us. I brace myself with both arms as my knees straddle him, complying with the new position of our bodies. I barely have time to note my new location before his mouth is on mine again.
It's harsh and fast and dizzying, spinning me around until I don't know which way is up.
I greedily pull his pink lip into my mouth, claiming it as my own. I'm determined to ravage his mouth just like he's ravaging mine.
Hands glide over my waist and neck, grasping my sunscreen-slick skin. They pull me closer, tugging until I'm practically lying on top of Edward. My torso collides with his, immediately doubling my warmth.
The sun's rays beat down on my back, trying but failing to rival the heat of his touch. It feels as though our love just might burn us up, but that would be perfectly okay.
Teasing fingers move to my hips, toying with the silly strings of my bikini bottoms. Sliding under, lingering there as if Edward is tempted to remove the piece altogether. I whimper, unable to think of any reason that he shouldn't.
Reluctantly breaking the kiss for air, I gasp when my head is hit by something big, bouncy and...buoyant?
I climb-stumble off the body I'm perched on, completely missing our layered towels when I land. My sun-flushed, Edward-flushed cheeks are much warmer than the gray pebbles beneath my knees.
The reality of the situation hits me as I look around in confusion.
This isn't Edward slipping his hand into my jeans, exploring my body as we share secrets in my bedroom. This is a very crowded beach with at least two giggling little boys, their beach ball and a glaring mother.
Maybe a private stretch of sand wasn't such a bad idea.
I glance at Edward, itching for his inevitable plan of action.
The sun is bright behind his head, creating a halo of radiance that highlights the edges of his reddish-brown hair. The color reminds me of a shiny penny. The love-drunk smile on his face reminds me of us.
I break free of the imagery after a moment, our problematic situation coming back to mind. My shock diminishes the more I think of what's happened, making room for a giggle that sneaks its way past my lips.
I immediately slap my hand over my mouth to hush the noise, trying to find my manners or at least my age. But there is no use. My outburst has grown into a full-fledged, making-way-too-much-noise laugh that no fingers can contain.
Edward looks at me with amused bewilderment, his expression emanating curiosity.
The sour mother is still glaring, the blond boys still giggling.
I think about weaving a story about mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but I really doubt she'll buy it. And Edward is gorgeous, but absolutely no help.
Escape is the only option.
I hurriedly slip on my tank top, shades and sandals before I sprint, guaranteeing a head start. I run-skip in the direction of the house, the uncontrollable laughs hindering my speed.
Edward chases after me fast, keeping our towels bunched under one arm as he catches up in no time.
He grabs my hand once we're side-by-side, and I kind of regret not letting him capture me sooner.
He's still smiling, his rosy cheeks looking plump and boyish.
I don't hide my eagerness as I tug on our laced fingers, willing our legs to carry us faster. Needing to be enclosed in four walls so I can pounce.
There is no reason to be out in public when I can paw at my husband in the privacy of our own home.
I'm a woman on a mission, only aware of other tourists and residents when I have to dodge them. Maybe I should be chagrined, but concern is impossible. We're running too fast for any negative comments to reach us.
Edward somehow manages to trump my enthusiasm, leading the way to the boardwalk. We make contact with the pavement at the same time, forming a single entity as we travel over the pretty, burnt color.
With feet flip-flopping against the ground in a steady beat, we leave the beach, world and disapproving stares far behind us.
A/N:
Ma belle femme = My beautiful wife
Bienvenue à Nice = Welcome to Nice
sable = sand
Please feel free to point out any typos if you find them. The update schedule is looking like every other week.
xoxo