A little early in the update, I'm going to be pretty busy in the morning, so you get to benefit!

I was going to jump forward a little, but you all seemed to want to see more of EPOV of that phone call… so… yeah! Here ya go!

Evil With You- People in Planes

~~oo~~

Chapter 25: Oh, I wanted a good girl.

EPOV

My phone burned in my pocket. I fidgeted all through dinner while Emmett watched me with a sly grin.

Every chance he could, he'd try and make me slip about Bella. And each time, I'd felt my phone get a little heavier in my pocket.

I didn't want to look overeager calling her, but it had been two hours since I had left, and the need to have some kind of contact with her was unbearable.

"Did you have a good day today, Edward?" Esme asked.

I nodded and shovelled more green beans in my mouth.

The less I talked the better my chances of not slipping up and saying something that would be used against me later.

"Did you see Bella today?" Carlisle asked casually.

Esme had assured me when I got home earlier that I didn't have to meet with him anymore, but that didn't mean he didn't try other ways to get information out of me.

"She's my lab partner, of course I saw her," I replied simply and reached for another bread roll.

"Do you have to work with her outside of class?" he asked.

"Some, I guess," I hedged. "I mean we have to take care of the flour child."

I stopped and internally groaned. I had let her keep it tonight. She was going to think I was bailing on the project again.

Maybe I could go over. Just to pick it up, of course.

Call her first.

I took another bite of my roll, wondering if she had any more cookies left.

"Worked up an appetite today," Emmett said, eyebrow raised.

I looked him in the eye and popped the rest of the roll into my mouth, not answering him. Truth was, I had barely eaten my lunch, being a little too distracted by nice lips sucking on the juices of that apple.

Fuck.

I'd be stuck at the table now for a bit.

"So how are things with you, Emmett?" Esme asked, turning the conversation away from me.

Emmett distracted them with tales of football practice, commenting on how much better his throw or something was. I took the time off anyone's radar to combat my tight jeans. Thinking of anything that might calm my nerves and other things.

I had a math test tomorrow. I could sleep through it and still get an A in the class.

I wondered which math class Bella was in.

Not helping.

I needed to get an oil change.

Really not helping.

We finished supper, but Esme recruited me to help with dishes. I felt my phone mocking me at yet another delay in calling. I knew it was Esme's way of keeping me distracted, but it was getting late and I didn't want to look like an ass by not calling Bella.

"I'm glad you had a good day," Esme said at one point in between scrubbing plates.

I shrugged and kept drying.

"I wanted to ask you something. Something personal," she whispered, and when I glanced at her, I noticed she was blushing.

Which was worse, Carlisle in his office, or my mother, who knew what I was up to in my sheets?

Why did everyone need to know my business?

"Mom," I started, grimacing when she looked up at me with her affected look.

You know the one.

Sad that she has lost that bit of connection that you once had when you were eight and needed her to scare away the monsters in the closet.

Esme had been good at scaring my closet monsters then.

So the guilt was unbearable.

"Fine," I agreed miserably.

She smiled and looked down at the dishwater, already confirming for me that this would be awkward.

"I just want you to know I think that any sort of relationship you might have with a girl can be good for you," she said, lips pursed hard on the stubborn dish she was washing.

"But?"

I knew there was a but, she was stalling. She nodded and looked up at me, eyes pained.

"I just want to be sure that you know to be respectful," she replied, swallowing. "Bella's a good girl, I can tell. And she deserves to be treated so. Slowly and respectfully. I know you have ideas…"

"Mom," I groaned and laid the plate down hard. "I know how to be respectful."

She nodded and went back to scrubbing furiously.

"I just don't want you to feel that what happened… with...," she stammered. She still couldn't say Tanya's name. "I'd just like you to maybe talk to someone before you get serious. Someone who knows a little better than we do."

"Mom, I don't want to ruin this with Bella," I said quietly, feeling my phone rubbing against me, taunting me. "I can handle it without someone telling me I'm sick. I'm already better."

She nodded and glanced at me worriedly.

"It wouldn't be so bad to talk to someone about it though, right? We have a friend who understands what you are going through," she said, stopping again to let out a breath. "I want you to know it's not because I think you're sick. It's because of the past, and I wish I could erase that for you."

We were quiet for a while, as we continued to wash the dishes.

We rarely talked about the past. Any of it. Esme had dealt with so many demons, it was her philosophy that the past be buried and only look to the future.

So what happens when your past shapes you into something that is taboo?

She had no idea when she and Carlisle adopted me that I'd be who I was today.

Maybe I wasn't as bad as everyone thought. How I thought.

But she was right.

In order for me to respect Bella, I needed to see someone other than Carlisle.

"I'll go," I whispered and leaned in to hug my mom. "I'll go, okay?"

After garbage duty and taking a shower, I finally was able to retreat to my room. I held the phone in my hand, nervous suddenly to text her. This was nothing bad, right? Just calling her to talk. We needed to talk more.

What to say?

My mind was in a tailspin after all the feelings that coursed through me all day.

My shower should have calmed me, but I was more nervous now than before. My body was wired.

It's just texting. You can't get in trouble texting.

Texts weren't sexy.

Somehow I knew, no matter what Bella wrote, I'd find a reason to touch myself again.

I hadn't kept track today, but I knew I was well down on my numbers. That didn't mean I didn't still want to drive back over there and see if she tasted as sweet elsewhere as on her lips.

I flopped into bed with a groan, cradling my phone in my hand, deliberating.

Just text to see what time you needed to be there to pick her up.

My finger hovered over the send button forever before I finally did it. And held my breath.

I prayed it wasn't too late. The last thing I wanted was for her father to come by in his police car, warning me about late night calls.

I didn't expect her to answer quite so fast. I smiled at the idea that maybe she had been waiting for me to call. Or maybe it was late enough that she didn't get many calls.

But she seemed happy to text me. And learning that she was in bed made things much more interesting.

What did she wear to bed?

Was she really reading in bed?

What did her bed look like? And was there room for me?

Having to use two hands to text was so much more difficult than I wanted it to be. I needed a free hand for other things. When she agreed to let me call her, I immediately hit the speed dial.

Yes, she was on my speedial.

And her voice, so much lustier over the phone than in person.

I really needed to concentrate on her and not what her voice was making me think.

What would my name sound like all breathy?

Was it because she was in bed?

Was she just as excited to hear me as I was to hear her?

She just had to mention lying in bed again. I shuffled down lower into my blankets; sleep pants and boxers shoved past my thighs.

I couldn't help it. She was in bed, the mental images were torture. I refused to think about how wrong it was to do this with her on the line.

It was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

"What was that?" she asked. I stopped fidgeting in the sheets and pulled the phone up close to my mouth.

"You could hear that?" I murmured, wondering if she could also hear anything else.

But that was under two blankets and a sheet.

"I was getting more comfortable," I answered, closing my eyes as I felt myself stiffen further at my own touch.

I couldn't wait for her to touch me.

Stroke me.

Suck me.

"What, are you naked?" she asked, and I swear her voice was breathy again.

"Are you?" I asked, trying to imagine that.

She made a soft noise, something like a moan and then, "Maybe."

Oh God, I had known this girl for only a few days, and already she was playing with me.

Tempting me.

I'd get off before I could ask her to touch herself.

Fuck I was supposed to behave. Be respectful. Too soon, and I was too perverted for the likes of her.

How was I going to have a normal relationship with her when I couldn't keep from stroking myself while on the phone with her?

"You can't say things like that to me, Bella," I whispered, trying hard to control my breathing so I didn't sound like some obscene phone caller.

But her naked. That possibility made me groan.

"Are you really naked?" I asked, straining not to come right then if she said yes.

Fuck. I could hear her moving in her bed and then a throaty laugh.

"Of course not, Edward. I'm a good girl," she whispered.

I felt myself winding up fast and hard; she was going to do me in with her innocent banter.

Oh I wanted a good girl. A girl that could make me good.

Or make me so very bad. This was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn't stop it.

Couldn't stop.

I could feel the tension; I knew I was going to come… so wrong wrong wrong.

"Bel-," I stuttered, freezing in my bed when I heard the abrupt knock on my door and the doorknob turning.

Fuck me.

I tucked the phone under the blankets just as Carlisle opened the door to peek in.

Peek in. More like check to see if I was accomplishing number twelve for the day.

"Edward," he said, looking me over quickly before swallowing. "I just wanted to let you know, I made the appointment with Dr. Whitlock for Saturday morning. Your mother said you wanted to meet."

I held my breath and simply nodded. If I spoke he'd hear I was out of breath.

I refused to let him know I was currently getting off on a girl. Although I'm sure I looked like it.

"Well, goodnight, Edward," he said quietly and closed the door again, leaving me to let out my breath and slide the phone back out again.

And suddenly I was much less aroused.

Being reminded of my issues would do that.

It was like Carlisle knew and came in to stop me from doing something so base.

Bella didn't deserve that.

I closed my eyes and put the phone back to my ear.

"I have to go, Bella. Can I still pick you up tomorrow?"

"Seven thirty?" she asked, her voice low.

I sighed at the clinging image of her spent and flushed in her own bed.

If only, maybe one day.

"Seven thirty. Night Bella, sweet dreams."

Dream of me. God, how I hoped she dreamed of me.

I erased my texts, sure that Carlisle might try and see what I was about, and laid back down into the warmth of my blankets. I let my eyes close with thoughts of her in my mind, my orgasm a little more potent than usual.

But then again, I had her in my head, and recalling her touch this afternoon, it wasn't difficult to get off. I know I had promised Esme I would go slow, and I knew I'd try.

But I also knew that I wanted her.

Now more than ever.

It would be difficult not to take it further tomorrow.

But I'd try.

I'd… try.

~~oo~~

AN: so… Struggling to be good, failing in some ways… We'll see about this Whit person helping him… grins.

More tomorrow!

MWAH!