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WitFit Jan/Feb 2013

90's Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll

Word Prompt: Tender

Catch Phrase: "What a difference a day makes"

-PoM-

After throwing off the tension from earlier, the car ride back to my apartment was much more relaxed. He didn't bring up the thing at the practice space and that was just fine with me. Instead we talked about our favorite places in the city—his were new to me, ones that I hoped he'd show me some time.

The end of the evening seemed to sneak up on me; before I knew it his car was idling in front of the curb of my building. I grasped the door handle with no desire to actually open it—and maybe, just maybe, he didn't want me to because he kept up the conversation like he had no place to be. I had no idea what any of this meant, but what I did know was it had been an amazing evening with an incredible guy . . . who wasn't mine.

"Well, this is me." I nodded at the front door. "So, thank you . . . again. I had a really great time."

"I'm glad you hung out tonight."

"Yeah." I turned to face him and blurted out, "We can't do that again."

He frowned, leaning back into his seat. "Where did that come from?"

I studied my nails. "I mean tonight. Not the concert, that's not what I meant, but what happened afterward. We can't do . . . that, not when you're with someone else."

He groaned and looked at the ceiling. "Look, I know it's an awkward situation, I get that, but I don't even need to think about it. I want to be with you."

"And what about Tanya?"

"Me and her . . . I swear, I'm done with that now."

The words were right—in one sense, sure, but they didn't exactly ease my qualms.

"I just don't feel right," I said after a moment's pause.

"Hey, look at me." I turned, taking in his straightforward expression. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, okay?"

I gave him a thin smile. That was better.

"This, you, are important to me."

My smile grew a little. Growing warmer . . .

"We okay?"

"Yeah."

He grinned and leaned over to kiss me again. "Can I walk you to the door?"

"I'd like that."

I pulled my keys out of my pocket, and turned to say goodnight, and then got sidetracked. Something told me our talk wasn't quite over yet; if the look on his face was an indicator, he had more to say that I wasn't sure I was ready to hear yet.

I reached up to touch his lips. "Don't. The night was perfect for me. Let's just leave it as it is."

We kissed lightly before I turned and opened the door, giving him a small wave as it closed.

Three flights of stairs later, I'd no sooner flipped on a light in my apartment and put my jacket down when the buzzer rang for the front door.

"Yes?"

"I didn't get to say goodnight."

I pulled my lower lip with my teeth and grinned into the intercom.

"Goodnight," I said, my fingers resting on the speaker. I could hear him still, breath kind of fast and loud, like he'd run up the front stoop. I waited for the silence that would announce he'd left but it didn't come.

"I don't want to leave."

I hesitated for only a moment before I pressed the buzzer to let him up.

-PoM-

A quick glance in the mirror that hung near our front door, a careful mussing of my hair, and a cleavage adjust later, I opened the door to find a winded Edward, hands on his knees and a smile on his face.

"Hel—oof."

His hands were on my face almost immediately, lips searing mine. Pulling him backwards into the apartment, I slung the door closed, my arms reaching around his back.

Frantic, consuming kisses made me giddy. We didn't even make it to the couch; I pulled him to the rug with me, tugging at his shirt. I wanted, no, needed to feel his skin against mine. He took the cue and reached behind his shoulder blades to pull his shirt over his head.

He was lean, defined but not overtly so, body long and strong in that way that young guitar gods were apt to be. A small medallion looped through a leather cord swung back and forth and he lowered his body to rest on top of mine. Every lingering doubt was thrown to the wayside, much like my shirt and bra when he worked his hands between us and kissed the skin he exposed.

Lips on my breasts, my head thrown back because, damn, it felt better than I remembered. Teeth and mouth dragging over my neck, a spot I'd been particular to the last time—and he definitely remembered. The thought made me pull him closer, anticipation of having him inside again making me impatient.

The sensation of our skin together brought back a flood of memories of how I'd ached for his touch. As much as I had tried to imagine, nothing came close to feeling him again.

His hips ground into mine and I arched to meet him.

Through raspy, lust-heavy breaths, he asked, "Do you have condoms?"

"I . . . damn, that's good. Yeah, I think so." I disconnected, scooting across the floor to reach into the drawer on the coffee table where Rose kept a stash.

"If they're Emmett's, I don't want to know."

I giggled and rejoined him. "Then I won't tell you."

The condom got tossed onto the rug as he stood to remove his pants. I watched him unabashedly, cataloguing the new ink on his ribcage, the trail of hair on his stomach. Then he was back, near my feet and tugging at the cuffs of my jeans. I took the hint, unbuckled, and then lost my mind as he tugged me free and kissed his way up my legs to settle between my thighs.

"This is mine," he said and lightly nipped me through the cotton material. I moved against him, loving the feel of his scruff on the inside of my thighs.

His fingers hooked into the strings of my panties and he peeled them away until I was bare before him. Then he was all lips and fingers and tongue, slow and then fast, better and then best. My fingers curled into his hair, grabbing handfuls as he drove me insane. I writhed, needing away because it was too good, needing away because I'd rather have him inside.

"Get back here," he growled, dipping back and redoubling his efforts.

I screamed when I came, and had a passing thought that I hoped old Mrs. Grossman downstairs didn't have her windows open like I did.

"Holy . . . wow."

A moment later he was rolling the condom on and I closed my eyes, anticipating that moment when I'd feel him again. I opened my eyes to see him poised over me, his face full of lust and want; wrapping my hands over his shoulders, I tried to tug him toward me but was met with some resistance.

"Wha—oh, god."

Back and forth, slow and hard, he rubbed his tip against me, watching the way we looked. "Do you want this as much as I do?"

The teasing was enough to make my movements frantic. I clutched, I clawed, I wiggled my hips to make him just do it, already.

"Do you?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

"Tell me."

"Please," I whimpered.

"Oh, fuck," he said before he plunged into me. Absent was any tender moment. This was a culmination of pure need brought on by a gap we both needed to fill. He took me hard and fast and I urged him on. I loved how real this was, that we were here, in this, together.

Our bodies moved forward and back, slipping together in a primal dance. When he slammed into me one last time I tightened my legs around his back and took everything he had.

His weight was there, steady and comfortably heavy, as we both lie panting, damp and sweaty and still meshed together. He buried his head in my shoulder, slowly recovering his breath. After a few moments, he made a groaning sound that reverberated in my chest.

I laughed and combed my fingers through his hair. "That bad, huh?"

"The complete fucking opposite."

"Is that a compliment?"

He lifted his head." You'd better believe it," he said, planting a kiss on my collarbone. He moved slightly and grunted a little, probably as uncomfortable on the floor as me. "Do you have an actual bed in this place?"

"Sure do."

I moved to get up and pull the afghan off of the couch to cover myself, but he grabbed the edge of it and caused me to pause. I looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't," he said.

I rolled my eyes. Getting naked together for sex was one thing; I pulled it close and wrapped it around my body before moving into the hall. I looked over my shoulder at him cheekily.

"Bathroom is there. And I'll be down here," I said pointing to the door at the end of the hall. Once in the bedroom, I pulled the covers back and dropped the blanket.

"Wait."

I looked over my shoulder and chuckled a bit—he was naked as the day he came, and I hoped Rose wouldn't show up by some miracle at an ungodly hour in the morning to find a mess on the living room floor.

He was watching me, too. "So beautiful."

"I could say the same. C'mon, my back needs this mattress right now."

He sauntered forward, lighting a cigarette I hadn't seen before. We nestled into the bed, sharing a smoke and body heat.

"I take it Rose won't be back?" he said into my hair.

"Shouldn't be. I mean, it's a possibility, but probably not tonight. When Emmett's not working or with the band, she stays there. I hardly ever see her except when she comes home to change clothes."

"Good, I get you all to myself," he said, tightening his arms around me and bending his head to place a kiss on top of mine.

I snuggled in a little deeper to his body. This moment felt tender and true. I knew little of what the future held for us, but was content to be with him in the here and now.

-PoM-

What a difference a day makes, I thought the next morning. Eggs and bacon were going on the stove, biscuits almost ready in the oven. It was domestic and silly, but when I was stressed I cooked, and this morning, when words and actions of the night before were still fresh and not as urgent, I was left doubting them.

"Something smells good." He buried his face in my neck.

"Coffee's over there," I said pointing with my spatula. I concentrated on the eggs, watching as they formed.

He hesitated in letting go of me before grabbing a cup. It was only when I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye did I notice he was only wearing his jeans. I admired his lean torso and the way his pants sat on his hip bones as he turned around and took a seat at the table.

I placed a plate in front of him and grabbed my own coffee before I sat down and joined him at the table.

"This looks great. Thanks."

"You're welcome." I took a small bite of my cheesy eggs. After we ate in silence for a few minutes, I said. "So again we find ourselves cocooned away from reality."

He grinned. "I kind of like it here."

"Me too. But there's a bigger issue to deal with this time. We need to talk about—"

"Tanya? Seriously, like I said last night—don't worry about it," he said adding pepper to his eggs.

Frustrated with this typical male response, I said, "I just don't want any trouble."

"And you won't have any. Look, I didn't want to go into this with you at all. But what I had with her was just a casual hookup. We were free to see other people. She made it into something more than it was, and I can't really help that."

I huffed. That was kind of a dick answer. The insensitivity didn't sit well with me. Neither did knowing I was sleeping with a guy who still had a girl out there who thought they were together. It made me feel wrong, like I was dishonest and we weren't getting off on a good foot.

As much as I liked him, and I really, really did, I wished this obstacle wasn't in our way—no matter how inconsequential he saw it as.

"Well, from what I heard, she seems to think it's more than that."

"But it's not. I told you I was done, and I am. I'm into you, Bella. Why does this have to be hard? I like you, and I think you like me. Can't we just go from there?"

"I just don't see this as being easy."

"Trust me, she'll just move on to someone else. She always does. Anyway, I think the guys have about had it with her and she just doesn't get the hint."

"And what makes you think she will now?"

"If I tell her, she will. Right now I just want to enjoy being with you. Okay?"

I agreed and changed the subject. The subject had been dissected enough and I could do my best to tuck away my insecurities. I had no idea how things would go down and figured I knew sooner or later I'd have to deal with the fall out. But if he was as into this as he said, having him to get my back would make it easier.

After our coffee and eggs, we spent the rest of the morning in the couch watching cartoons. Determined to let go a bit and enjoy him, I couldn't help but shift my hips a little right in his direction. Lying there and lazily watching Bugs Bunny did not mesh with having a hot rock god spooned to your backside.

"Oh, this could be good," he murmured.

I smiled. "My intentions are pure."

"Hell if they are, and I don't care. I think I'm becoming addicted to you."

His hand moved around to slide under my t-shirt, rubbing a hand up my side and back down to push off the boxers I'd slipped into this morning.

Knowing what I needed, I reached to the end table again.

"Remind me to thank Emmett," he said, voice muffled because he had already moved on to peppering my neck with kisses.

"Oh, I will."

He took that moment to slide into me and I arched back to accommodate him. Things were slow and easy now. When we drifted to sleep I didn't try and worry about anything besides the man behind me.

-PoM-

"What time is it?"

"Three."

He sat up quickly. "Shit. I told Jasper I'd meet him over at the recording studio to get things worked out for the demo."

I watched from my perch on the sofa as he darted around the room picking up various pieces of clothing.

He hopped on one foot trying to get a shoe on. "I'm sorry I have to bail." He stepped over and leaned down to kiss me. "What I would give to do this all day." He kissed me again. "Call you later?"

"I'll talk to you soon," I said reaching up to touch his cheek. I watched as he left my apartment, and immediately felt the loss.

I bet you can imagine how hard it was to write this one at work…

If I think – Mudhoney

Much thanks to Nic – you rock.