A/N: Huh? What's this development?

Chapter 17

My Smile

Edward's POV

I had Bella on my back, carrying her up the stairs. I had to prove to her somehow that I was completely recovered. She kept insisting that I take it easy; which was code for us taking it easy as well.

It was fucking torture.

Bella obviously had it in her head that just because I was convalescing—as Carlisle put it—it extended to every physical part of me. She was so completely cavalier when it came to touching and kissing me, it was as though she thought I wouldn't be able to do anything even if I wanted to. It had become increasingly hard for me to remain in control. All my primitive brain could focus on was all the lustful things I'd envisioned doing with her now that she was finally mine.

We'd been on the sofa watching a DVD with Alice and Jazz. Though watching was a widespread fucking interpretation for those two. They'd stopped watching during the opening credits and began slopping over each other—as Bella would say—with Jazz, getting so hands on it was becoming fucking inappropriate.

The jackass seemed to think that just because I had a girlfriend too, there was a new set of rules that meant he could feel up my sister in front of me.

I'd struggled to keep the anger from making me tense, as Bella, who was sitting curled up into the side of me, surveyed them with secret amusement. Only moments before she'd been kissing every finger on my hand slowly and tenderly as she trailed her fingertips absently up and down my leg. The heat had immediately prickled up the back of my neck, before it shot down my body, giving me an immediate fucking boner.

Bella still evoked a feverish reaction from me, only now it had amplified to ridiculous freaking heights that had Carlisle constantly convinced that I had some kind of secondary infection.

Her hand reached up and cupped my cheek, and she turned my face to meet her gaze—just as my throbbing erection faded by the prick Jazz with his hands all over my sister.

"Don't watch them, Edward," she said softly, still smiling; only it had changed to that smile she reserved only for me. A smile that was kind of an affectionate tenderness that mirrored in her eyes. It tormented me because it always tore me straight down the middle of wanting to hold her in my arms, to ripping the clothes from her body.

I was lost, jarred; just as I always was when she turned her gaze to me. I opened my mouth about to say something stupidly charming, when she closed her mouth over mine and all cognitive thought faded from my mind.

I pulled her tightly to me as she grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, dragging me to her. I could never get her close enough, and it didn't help that she immediately backed away—obviously remembering my convalescing state—her grip on me slackening; her lips against mine closing.

I groaned, but she mistook it for pleasure, her lips that were still pressed to mine, curled upwards. She broke away and began teasing me to the point of psychological torture by kissing my neck and ear—always the ear; she had some kind of fixation with my ears. But still, her lips were hot against my already torched skin, and it was fucking agony!

"Bella?" I whispered, my voice breaking and going slightly higher.

"Mmm?" She continued to kiss my neck, before making her way back to my earlobe as her fingers curled through my hair.

Oh god, was she was sucking my ear?

I groaned again, this time with conquered desire, my skin reaching boiling point.

What was I about to ask her?

I was still peripherally aware that on the sofa opposite ours Pixie Pie and Jazzy-pants had stepped it up a notch. My groan this time was exasperated, my coherency snapping back instantly. Bella tried to smother back a laugh, and her breath blew out against my neck, that did nothing to ease my frustration.

I stood up a little too quickly, pulling her with me and had to pull out all the stops to prevent the moan from escaping my lips as my ribs objected sharply. She gazed at me questioningly, her eyebrows bunching together with confusion.

"We're going up stairs. Either that or I break Jazmina's neck." I tried to sound all self-assured and charismatic, but my heart was thudding heavily, only adding to the discomfort of my already fucked up body.

The smile again, knowing tenderness, as she paused to briefly contemplate it. "Okay."

Taking her hand, I led her to the stairs where she stopped me, a frown working into her expression. "Edward … you're still recovering."

"Bella," I paused to sigh, "it's been four bloody weeks," I teased her warmly, though it was nowhere near as fucked up sexy when I said it.

Again the smile, only edged with skepticism. I groaned internally.

"Want me to prove it?" I challenged her.

She tilted her head, her smile fading only slightly, obviously wanting me to, but weighing up whether I really should attempt it in my current condition; my condition that she still blamed herself for.

I released the air from my lungs, an audible expression of both affection and concern; she was way too old for seventeen.

Without waiting for her answer, I hoisted her onto my back. My abdomen protested immediately, but I ignored it; it was tolerable.

"See? You believe me now?" I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting her surprise, as a broad grin spread across my face. Call me a Neanderthal, but it was important to me that as her boyfriend, she was aware that I wasn't pitifully fucking decrepit.

"You big faker!" she teased me, almost making me baulk.

I could feel my expression transfix with indignation. I had tried everything I could, unsuccessfully, for the past two weeks to get her to believe I was recovered—enough to venture past our gentle slopping; at least, gentle only on her part.

The smile she flashed me only partially melted my exasperation. She kissed me again, a little deeper than what I was used to, before pulling away only fractionally.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. Her breath washed over my lips, and it was practically cool against the heat that was swelling through me.

I broke into a grin, the same goofy grin that she'd probably become accustomed to, and began scaling the stairs carefully, wishing I could run her up two at a time. The dull ache clawed deep inside my stomach but was quickly overshadowed by my throbbing dick again as she kissed the back of my neck and ears.

When we reached the landing, she insisted on climbing off my back, and I took her hand and led her into my room; closing the door behind us. Then, taking me by complete surprise, she threw herself into my arms, and wrapped her legs tightly around my waist. I thought I was going to fucking collapse, and it must have been my erection alone that kept me upright.

She kissed me with a new depth, running her fingers through my hair before encircling her arms securely around my neck. Opening her mouth to me, her tongue connected against mine, causing a fucked up primitive arousal in me that burned my skin. A deep muffled moan erupted from me, vibrating against her lips.

She pulled away, her eyebrows pulling slowly together.

"Edward—you're hot." She was breathless, and her eyes that had darkened were also burning with concern.

I grinned at her. "And you're beautiful." I bent down to kiss her again just as that smile was twitching at her lips.

My stomach began to ache with the weight of her, coupled with all the circulation that was now concentrated and expanding painfully in my groin. I put her down on her feet, continuing to hold her tightly to me, our lips not breaking apart as I kissed her with growing intensity.

In no time I began to get a serious crick in my neck that was distracting me and threatening to deflate my hard-on. Picking her up, I carried her to the bed where she again grabbed hold of my shirt and pulled me with her until I was lying flat on top of her. I quickly pulled myself up onto my palms, as my restricted fucking dick pounded in anticipation.

I had to get my jeans off before I snapped in two, but it wasn't like I could be an assuming bastard and just take them off. As far as I knew, all Bella wanted to do was fool around.

I pulled back; Bella's eyes were ignited, her face ruddy and hot—and it was fucking hard to tear my gaze from her lips; her pouty lips that were red and slightly swollen.

"Bella, do you want me to stop?" I asked her, trying to maintain some control over my shortened breath.

She gazed into my eyes for the longest time; hers were infinite, her chest rising and falling in sync with mine. Then, that smile slowly lit up across her face. She only shook her head slowly in answer before her hand reached behind my neck, pulling me down to meet her lips again.

With one hand on the bed beside her, supporting my weight precariously, I used the other to attempt to undo my jeans clumsily. As I fumbled with the button, I almost lost my hold above her. I broke away from her lips, turning my head to see what the hell I was doing, when her hands came to my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them gingerly.

Instant relief.

I suppressed a moan, before pulling us to our knees. My jeans slipped down my hips, before I pressed my mouth hungrily to hers again, while her lips parted painfully slow.

Her hands began to inch under my shirt before she wrapped them fully around my back beneath it; they almost felt as if they were burning me. I broke off momentarily to pull my shirt over my head and toss it over the side of the bed.

Again, Bella lay back, pulling me against her a little too hastily. I lost my balance and my chest crashed against hers.

"I'm sorry, baby," I mumbled into her neck, after the pain finished convulsing through me. Tentatively, I pulled my top half off her, supporting my weight on one elbow.

Bella made some murmuring, incoherent reply before wrapping her fingers through my hair. She kissed me again hotly, as I tentatively slipped my palm under her shirt, sliding it up as I went; her skin was so fucking soft and supple beneath my fingers. I tore my lips from hers and pulled back so I could gaze down at her, with my heart pounding relentlessly behind my ribs. She smiled again, tender affection, then took my hand and slid it up to cup over her breast. My eyes followed as another surge of desire forced me fully erect. I collapsed against her, kissing her hard, and with my jeans hovering around my knees, I was suddenly digging hot and hard against her lower stomach.

"Edward?"

Mom?

I panicked; my heart suddenly accelerating until I was practically buckling over in pain. Mom was coming in! In fact, she sounded like she was already in the room.

My eyes suddenly snapped open, before I blinked repeatedly in confusion. Bella was gone and I was laying on my back, breathless and sweaty, my stomach protesting violently with each sharp intake of air. I was hotter than hell and had the biggest, raging hard on of my life as I stared into my mother's warm, cheerful eyes.

It was a dream—of course it was a fucking dream!

"Hey, honey, I'm just bringing your medication to you. You slept like a log last night; I didn't want to wake you." Her eyes then dipped down, and a small smirk tugged at her lips.

Oh Jesus!

"Mom!" I exclaimed in protest, quickly turning on my side and immediately wincing as pain shot through me.

"I'm sorry, honey. I'll go now." She placed the pills and a glass of water on my side table and turned to leave, but not before I caught a glimpse of the amused smirk on her face broadening.

Groaning softly to myself, I tentatively turned over onto my back again, bringing my hands to my face and running them back through my hair in growing frustration.

I gave myself a few minutes for my heart to steady and my hard on to disappear. It had remained hard, despite the fact that my mother had spied it. But then my entire body was still pulsating from the fucked up dream.

I turned my attention to the painkillers. I didn't really like taking them, and unless I made sudden movements, or did anything too vigorous—which included erotic dreams about Bella—I wasn't in that much pain. They made me spacey, and I generally only took them to keep Mom happy.

Reaching over, I grabbed one pill leaving the other, shoved it in my mouth and washed it down with a quick gulp of water.

A knock at the door.

The little rat, judging from the very un-Alice-like courtesy behind it; Un-Alice-like until recently, that is.

She popped her head around the door a moment later. "Hey, Edward. Mom said you were awake."

She stepped into the room apprehensively, her face tender and full of emotion—just as it had been every time she looked at me these days.

"What do you want, Alice?" I asked her, sitting myself up with awkward clumsiness and feeling the smile twitch at my lips. Despite that fact that the little rat had barely given me a minute to myself since I'd come home, her presence gave me a weird kind of comfort.

Her eyes met mine and she grinned back. "Can't I hang out with my brother?" she answered with feigned indignation.

"You hung out with me all day yesterday, if you've forgotten," I teased her, when inside I felt like shit. Alice felt responsible for what had happened, and to make it infinitely fucking worse, so did Bella.

I'd heard Alice speaking to her the night before on the phone as I was walking past her room. She'd spoken Bella's name and I'd stopped dead in my tracks and shamelessly tilted my head closer to her door. Though, I don't think I would have been able to walk away if I tried.

"Bella, don't say that! It's not your fault. That bastard Newton was the one spreading bullshit." Alice's tone had been as furious as it was insistent.

Bella blamed herself? My heart had jarred with guilt at the notion of it. I was the one who'd acted like a complete prick; none of it was her fault.

Why would she blame herself?

Alice spoke again.

"How could you tell him? He didn't give you a chance to. Edward can be such a hot-head sometimes."

I'd groaned inwardly. Fucking little rat!

I'd tactfully asked Alice, while I was still in the hell hole they call hospital, if Bella was likely to visit again. I hated the thought that she had seen me when I was unconscious. Idiot Emmett had taken a photo of me, and I looked fucking hellish at best. Her second visit, when I was incoherent, I barely recalled. Alice had explained gently, as if it would upset me—which pissed me off—that it had been very hard for Bella the first two times and to give her some time.

In truth, I was surprised Bella had come to see me at all. It was more than I'd expected—or deserved. I assumed she'd never want to speak to me again, and after everything I'd put her through, I could hardly blame her.

"You okay? You're spacing out a bit," Alice asked me, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied absently.

She didn't push me on it, when a couple of weeks ago she wouldn't have been able to let it go.

"So, Jazz is coming around today to watch a DVD. Do you want to join us?"

"So I can watch him feel you up? No thanks," I retorted dryly.

She folded her arms, immediately indignant. "When exactly has that ever happened?" she demanded.

Old Alice; I liked it.

I broke into an immediate grin. She had a point and it should have made the dream all the more unrealistic. Jazz would never have had the nerve to grab her tits while I was in the room—whether I was convalescing or not.

"Okay, I'll think about it," I replied, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. I closed my eyes momentarily allowing flashes of the dream to filter through my consciousness. My temperature immediately hiked, but I pushed it back hastily before anything else could react.

In front of mom was bad enough, but in front of Alice!

It was a dream, nothing more.

When I looked back up at Alice she was gazing at me, and the guilt in her eyes was suddenly intensifying. "Edward ... I'm really sorry about..."

I exhaled deeply; she was apologizing again?

"Alice," I complained quietly but firmly, "you've apologized every day, at least ten times a day. How many times do I have to tell you? None of it was your fault!"

"I know, but we had a fight and then..." She let her voice trail off, her eyes burning with pain and fucking guilt.

I barely remembered the argument we'd had. I barely remembered much from that night. Still, it hadn't prevented the remorse Alice felt over it, but I couldn't keep hearing her apologize for it. It only made me feel like more of a fucking bastard!

"Alice," I mumbled half groaning. "Do you want me to throw you out?" My tone was jaded, despite my efforts to sound teasing.

She immediately smirked and raised her eyebrows skeptically. "And see you cry like a little girl? Most definitely."

I sighed shortly and smiled to myself, secretly relieved.

"Okay," she added quickly, her expression going tender again. "I'll see you downstairs later?"

"Yeah." I sighed, not exactly hiding my reluctance.

She grinned at me, dropped her bottom lip in an over exaggerated pout, and pretended to play a violin.

I scowled at her, but it was all bullshit. I wasn't pissed at the little rat; I didn't think I was able to be at that point.

She started chuckling softly, affectionately, before she threw her arms impulsively around my neck, only for a spasm of pain to immediately paralyze me. I drew in my breath sharply, and reflexively lurched away from her.

"Oh, Edward!" she gasped urgently. "I'm so sorry."

It was a ferocious stabbing pain and it was gone just as quickly as it came, but I felt feeble and fucking pathetic.

"I'm okay," I mumbled.

Alice took an exasperated breath then grinned at me in a shrewd kind of way. "Don't be impatient. You just have to suck it up and let yourself heal."

"Mmm okay, now get out and give me room to breathe, already," I replied, my voice rising with feigned irritation.

I really was irritated—I was fucking pissed at myself.

She kissed my cheek quickly before I had a chance to protest, then left the room mumbling something about 'Jazzy'.

I closed my eyes and groaned softly. As much as I enjoyed Alice's company—as long as she wasn't consumed with guilt—I wished I had the good sense to avoid an afternoon with her and Jazz. She was seventeen and she and Jazz had been together for almost a year. I wasn't an idiot; I knew they'd advanced beyond holding hands, but being forced to endure an hour of them, whilst they barely remembered I was in the room, was bone crunching torture.

There was no way of getting out of it, though. Alice promptly came to physically drag me down stairs a couple of hours later, and she and Jazz did not contradict my expectations.

At some point, I heard Alice mumble—while her mouth was still pressed against Jazz's exposed skin, I wasn't entirely sure where—I didn't trust losing my shit by finding out—that I was in the room and watching. She said it as if I was some fucking pervert, when in reality I'd made every effort to ignore them, or at least pretend I was oblivious. I needed fucking blinders to keep from peripherally seeing the prick that was her boyfriend and where he was running his hands. My skin crawled and mingled with my intensifying anger.

Okay, so Jazz wasn't technically feeling her up, but he wasn't far off it either, and now that I thought about it, dreaming about Jazz feeling up my sister—even though it was technically about Bella—was pretty fucked up.

I groaned loudly, hoping it would alert them to my fucking discomfort. When it was clear they hadn't heard me—or were ignoring me—I pulled myself carefully off the sofa, and headed into the kitchen to get a drink; neither one of them noticed me leave. It was times like these, when I was the odd one out between Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum that I'd usually just jump in my car and save my sanity by getting the fuck out of there. But since it was now scrap metal, and I'd had my license suspended, and I had been grounded for a month by Mom, I was forced to either endure it, or hide in my room. Mom had taken out my TV, so all my room offered was isolation alone with my thoughts.

Not fucking appealing at this point.

I leaned against the refrigerator door, closed my eyes and sighed, while trying in vain not to let my thoughts probe deeper than the present moment. Projections of the dream kept floating back to me, keeping me just on the cusp of an erection, while knowing that if I jerked off it'd probably kill me.

Emmett entered the room then and slapped me sharply on the back; the jolt caused my coke to fizz and splash me in the face. I huffed impatiently, when the next thing I knew, he was dragging me by the collar of my shirt and forcing me to sit down at the breakfast table.

"What!? Jesus, Emmett!" I protested, as my stomach locked up in pain. I attempted to prevent it from reflecting in my expression so the asshole couldn't see what he was doing to me—no doubt unsuccessfully.

He sat opposite me at the table, his expression darkening. "Now that Mom and Dr. Seuss are out, it's time you and I had a little heart to heart."

I had the urge to groan loudly and was on the verge of saying something sarcastic and wise ass, but there was something dangerous about his expression. Something I'd never seen before that made me immediately reconsider.

He took a deep breath in before locking his eyes with mine in a way that was almost threatening—if it wasn't mixed with an emotion Emmett rarely showed: vulnerability.

"If you ever pull that shit again and hurt Mom and Alice the way you did, I'll make sure a coma is the best thing you could hope for." His tone was low and humorless and was a complete contradiction to what his eyes were reflecting, and I knew that while he hadn't mentioned it, he was telling me that it included him as well.

I felt the smile tug at my lips, despite the grievous look in Emmett's eyes that darkened the broader my grin became. "Gee, thanks, Bro, and here I was thinking you didn't care."

He scowled at me becoming genuinely pissed off, before his eyes flashed craftily and narrowed as a hint of a smirk began to transform his expression. "Be very careful, Edna. My room is next to yours, don't forget, and one day I might just let it slip to Little Miss Down Under that you say her name in your sleep."

I immediately froze, feeling my blood begin to run fucking cold.

Emmett's grin quickly turned smug. "That's what I thought, and I'm completely serious, asshole!"

I was well aware of just how thin the wall was that separated our bedrooms. It was hard to ignore; he snored louder than a fucking grizzly. Plus, I had the unfortunate fucked up privilege of knowing what Emmett and Rosalie said to each other while their activities made my window pane vibrate as his headboard banged against the common wall. It was a fucking cringe inducing thought, but at the same time, I knew he wasn't bluffing.

If I'd heard him then he'd definitely heard me.

Begrudgingly, I raised my eyes to meet his. He rose his eyebrows in fucking emphasis, and I nodded in submission with a half shrug.

He immediately broke into a sly grin. "I'm glad we had this chat, Edith. Now go and put a jacket on; you're cold aren't you?" His eyes were crinkling in that wise ass way of his.

I only stared at him blankly as a small ripple of panic began building in the pit of my stomach.

Over the last few days or so, he'd been making comments about me being cold, with the same shrewd look on his face. The same expression he'd had when he caught Bella and me on the sofa.

The ripple in my stomach turned into a fucking wave.

How could he possibly know? He couldn't—unless he'd heard me say it in my sleep.

I abandoned that thought but with a lingering sense of panic; I knew I wasn't that good a sleep talker.

The doorbell chimed, and Emmett's grin broadened as he got up from the chair. "That'll be Rosie."

Preferring the company of Alice and Jazz to the confinement of my room, or the alarm that Emmett's gibes arose in me, I wandered back into the living room. Jazz and Alice were actually paying attention to the movie by this point, despite the fact that Alice was sitting on Jazz's lap. Ironically, they seemed to fucking resume groping one another the minute I sat down. I glanced over at them in exasperation and I caught where the pissant had his hands. My eyes narrowed and I was on the verge of bursting out my impatience, when Emmett's deliberately loud, booming fucking voice made the words die on my lips.

"Rose, babe! I'm so glad you're here! I'm so cold when you're gone!"

It didn't register immediately; after all, it was just Emmett being an idiot.

Jazz snorted before Alice clamped her hand over his mouth, while Rose groaned with her usual exasperation when it came to Emmett. "Why the hell do you keep saying that? What do you want me to do anyway? Put a sweater on!"

All at once, realization hit me, and I groaned loudly, not even bothering to muffle it. I glared at Alice with immediate suspicion, as my fucking ears burned with mortification.

Had she worked it out? She knew everything else about me, it made sense that she'd be aware of the fucked up way my body temperature reacted to Bella.

I was watching her, folding my arms across my chest with growing annoyance at the way her obvious amusement was winning the battle against her attempts to keep a straight face.

"Alice?" I asked her in a low voice. She looked up at me, her face instantly straightening out, in fucking guilt. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

Her eyes widened, the twitching fucking smile evaporating from her lips. "Sure."

I grabbed her arm and all but dragged her into the kitchen, too agitated to acknowledge the way my stomach reacted violently, before I rounded on her. "Okay so you worked it out—not that it wasn't half obvious—but did you have to spill it to Emmett? Jesus, Alice!"

To my utter surprise, she laughed. "Edward, I didn't tell Emmett a thing."

"W-what do you mean?" I asked her faltering.

She grinned warmly, yet ruefully, before she began with obvious delicacy, "Edward ... you told Bella you get cold when you're not around her last week in hospital."

Fuck me sideways...

The thought of being killed the week before suddenly seemed very fucking appealing.

I closed my eyes, letting out my breath that slowly turned into a frustrated, completely fucking exasperated groan. Then, bowing my head, I dropped it into my hands, feeling my face burn with absolute humiliation.

"Edward, you were saying some strange things. I doubt she would have taken much notice."

I might have believed her if her tone wasn't overshadowed by both amusement and fucking pity.

I had no doubt Bella knew I was speaking the truth. She'd spent enough time around me to know that I all but broke into a fucking sweat and removed half my clothes in front of her. She never mentioned it, but she'd definitely noticed. It was the way she'd often smile to herself, shrewdly—owning my ass to the very end; making me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself.

And she did not fucking smile at me the way she had in my dream; she never had!

She knew. She knew how I felt about her, and she knew exactly what she did to me.

If it was the week of nightmares becoming a reality then surely I was done.

A/N: It was a dreeeeeaaaaam! Yes I'm evil.