Author Note: Thanks for the great response to the last chapter! Lots of worry that they're taking too big of a chance by going somewhere public like the zoo.

Teasers for guessing the chapter title from British singer Samantha Fox go to: Faerywren, Lady Moon Shadows, 2loveybunnies, Midnight Cougar, Scoobylover68, TrulyOutrageous, dawnhybb, and AbruptlyChagrined. This one was tougher than I expected! Many of you guessed female singers who would probably be upset to hear that so many people think they can't sing lol.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

Chapter 11 – Touch Me (I Want Your Body)

I can't help but laugh at Edward's reaction to finding out my dad's a cop.

"Yeah, maybe you should've paid better attention at parent-teacher conferences. He could've ruined you, but… I don't think I ever would've told him — or anyone — about us."

He shakes his head, taking a long drink.

"What about you?" I ask. "Are you originally from Chicago?"

"No, I'm from Jacksonville, Illinois. It's near Springfield."

"And your dad is a doctor?"

He nods. "An orthopedic surgeon."

"Nice," I whistle. I bet he has a house as nice as Phil's, or Alice's parents. "What about your mom?"

"She managed an antiques store when I was younger."

"Do you have any siblings? That's the one thing I regret with my parents splitting up so quickly. I wish I had a brother or sister."

"A brother," he answers, running his hand through his hair. "Can we talk about this later?"

"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise. "Sure." My brow furrows a bit. There must be something not-so-great in Edward's background that he isn't up for discussing on a first date.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, reaching out to take my hand.

"It's fine, really," I assure him. "Are you ready to keep going?"

Nodding, he stands up, grabbing our tray to dump the trash. We spend the rest of the afternoon checking out the rest of the huge zoo, until it closes at 5pm. It's really a lot of fun, and I'm glad I got to experience it for the first time with Edward. My feet are kind of killing me though. I definitely went with fashion over form in choosing shoes this morning.

"Did you, um, want to come back to my place?" he asks nervously as we walk back to his car. "It's a bit too early to grab dinner."

"Sure," I agree easily. I'm definitely not ready for this date to end.

Edward drives us to a small ranch-style home not far from the St. Louis Bread Co. where we met a few weeks ago. There's no garage, but there is a carport on the side. It looks like any one of the many 1950s ranch homes around St. Louis County.

Looking around the living room, I frown a bit. Nothing about the décor or the style of the furniture strikes me as Edward. It does look like it may have been renovated at some point though, from what I can see of the kitchen.

"I just rent. Furnished," he adds, as if he can read my mind. "The owners decided to live full time at their vacation home at Lake of the Ozarks. Have you been there?"

"No," I shake my head. "Alice and I were going to go last summer but never got around to it. How come you didn't buy a house?"

"Well, I still own a house in Chicago," he points out. "I also didn't know for sure if I'd be staying in St. Louis."

"Oh, right, you're just filling in for Dr. Maltby." He nods. "Do you know anything about next semester yet?"

"Not yet, but he's supposed to let them know one way or the other six weeks before the end of this semester. Do you want something to drink?"

I nod, taking a seat on the couch in front of the huge flat screen TV while Edward heads into the kitchen. He comes back in less than a minute with two bottles of water.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he says quietly. "I should've expected that you'd want to ask about my family when we'd just spoken about yours."

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I—I want to tell you. It's just difficult to find the words."

"Take all the time you need," I assure him, putting my hand on his arm.

Edward smiles as he looks over at me. "I'm five years younger than Peter," he begins. "Given the age difference, we were never especially close." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "When I was five, Peter was diagnosed with cancer."

"Oh no!" I exclaim.

"Mom quit her job to take care of him. I was in kindergarten then, so only half days. It seemed like I spent the rest of my time being dragged along with them to one doctor's appointment after another. Mom would hand me a book from the corner table and tell me to stay quiet."

"That's where you got your love of reading," I realize.

"Yeah, maybe." He gives me a small smile. "Peter died when I was seven."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Edward." I can't resist giving his hand a squeeze.

"It bothers me now, not having a sibling to talk to when things get tough." He looks at me pointedly and I realize he means talking about… us. "At the time though, all my seven-year-old brain could process was, 'Maybe they'll pay attention to me now.'"

"And did they?" I ask, holding my breath.

"No. Dad threw himself into his work and Mom… she started drinking. A lot. And my parents would fight over it. A lot. They'd usually fight when I was in bed at night, thinking I couldn't hear them, but I could."

Edward grabs his water bottle off the table for a long sip, then takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. And I start to get really worried about what he's going to say.

"I usually took the bus home, but one day when I was 11, Mom picked me up after school. It was Dad's 40th birthday and he had to work. He worked at a hospital in Springfield, about 20 miles to the east on the interstate. Mom had been drinking and… when she swerved to avoid something in the road, she lost control of the car and ran off the highway into a tree."

"That's how you broke your finger!" I realize, remembering his explanation for why he didn't wear a wedding ring.

He nods. "And my arm, and some ribs. I was wearing a seatbelt, but I was pretty banged up. Mom wasn't wearing one and she was thrown from the vehicle. She died," he adds quietly.

"I'm so sorry," I cry, unable to stop myself from crawling into his lap and hugging him. I understand now why he didn't want to talk about this earlier at the zoo.

Edward hugs me back tightly, then kisses the top of my head. "I'm Ok," he says quietly. "It was a long time ago."

I look up at him in disbelief. "Yes, but—"

"Really, I'm Ok," he repeats. "Dad insisted that we both get counseling after that, and we got a lot closer."

"Has he remarried?" I ask, sliding off his lap before it gets awkward.

Edward nods. "A few months before the end of my senior year, he finally married his girlfriend, Esme. They'd been dating for four years, ever since he hired her company to redecorate our house. She's great and really good for him."

"Do they still live near Springfield?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Tanya and I would visit on holidays. I guess they're maybe a bit closer to me now than when I was in Chicago."

At the mention of Tanya, I remember something else Edward said a couple of weeks ago. "You said… you and Tanya had similar experiences as children?"

He nods. "Her dad was — still is — a drunk. Unlike my mom, he's a mean, violent drunk who abused his wife and three daughters."

"So that's why she didn't want to go back to Russia," I realize. "That's really an amazing thing you did for her, you know. Even if you don't think so."

"Clearly, I'm not afraid of bending the rules when I care about someone," he says with a wry smile. "Are you hungry? Should I order pizza, or do you get enough of that as a college student?"

"I can cook, thank you very much." I punch his arm lightly in mock protest. "Pizza sounds great, but not that cracker with cheese that St. Louisans call pizza."

"Got it," he laughs, standing up. "What do you want on the pizza?"

"I like mushrooms. And sausage," I add.

"Sausage, huh?" He waggles his eyebrows, making me roll my eyes.

While Edward is calling in our order, I get up to use the bathroom. When I come out, I walk over to where Edward is standing, unable to resist touching him as I rest my hands on his waist.

"Your nose is sunburned," I smile, booping it with my finger.

"How come yours isn't? You're as pale as I am."

"My moisturizer has SPF 15 sunscreen built in," I explain.

"Your moisturizer?" he asks, sounding horrified. "You're 19 years old."

"And I'd like to continue to look that way, thank you very much."

Shaking his head, Edward pulls me close, kissing me softly.

"Does that bother you?" I ask hesitantly. "My age, I mean."

"No. In a lot of ways, you seem older than 19."

"Dad always said I was an old soul," I smile. "But I think… I did a lot of growing up in the last year. I'm not as naïve as I was when I fantasized about my teacher and his… sausage."

Laughing, Edward leads me over to the couch, arranging my legs over his lap. He touches just over my ankle, and I'm thankful that I shaved my legs this morning as his hand travels up my calf onto my thigh. It finally comes to a stop just below my shorts, with his thumb brushing back and forth over my inner thigh.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" I ask breathlessly.

"I'm rather enjoying being allowed to touch you," he smiles, making my heart melt.

"You can touch wherever you want."

Removing his hand from my thigh, Edward crooks his finger until I come closer, allowing him to pull me in for a kiss. What starts off soft and gentle quickly becomes heated when his tongue comes out to play.

Before I know it, I'm lying on my back on the couch with Edward above me. While he needs one hand to brace himself, the other is wandering from my thigh up to my chest. I moan involuntarily as he squeezes my breast.

Pulling away slightly, he looks me straight in the eye as his fingers travel down toward the top of my shorts. He flicks the button open, still staring into my eyes.

"Ok?" he whispers, and I nod furiously.

Smiling, he kisses me again while he slowly lowers the zipper on my shorts. Unfortunately, they're too tight to give his hand much room to maneuver. He's barely touched me, and I'm already a panting mess.

Changing his approach, Edward removes his hand from my shorts and places it back in my thigh. One finger makes its way under the hem, brushing between my legs where my panties are getting more damp by the second.

"Do you want me to make you come?" he whispers, and again, I nod furiously. He owes me this one from nearly a year ago. I don't care if it's technically our first date and we were trying to take it slow this time.

Smirking at my eagerness, Edward sits back, allowing himself room to tug my shorts down. He leaves my lacy panties in place, sliding his fingers underneath.

"You're wet for me, Bella," he says in the sexiest voice imaginable. I can feel my face flame in mortification. "Just close your eyes and feel."

I do as he says, concentrating on the feel of his fingers gliding along my slit. His movements are slow and deliberate, almost as if he's teasing me.

"Edward!" I cry, hoping to speed things up.

"It'll be worth the wait, I promise."

His lips capture mine again while his fingers continue their slow dance in my panties. One finger lightly circles my clit, then dips inside me. My breathing picks up as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.

"P-please," I beg. I'm so, so close.

"Open your eyes, Bella. Look at me when I make you come."

I waste no time in doing what he says, staring into his eyes as the first waves of my orgasm wash over me. I've touched myself before, but it was nothing like this. Holy shit!

"That's my girl," he smiles. "Ride it out."

By the time he takes his hand out of my panties, I'm panting, a light sheen of sweat covering my body. I watch wide-eyed as Edward sucks his fingers into his mouth.

"Next time I'll get that directly from the source," he winks, and my eyes bug out of my head. Oh, hell yes! I've heard plenty of good things about oral sex from fan fiction — and from Lauren back in high school.

I nearly fall off the couch when the doorbell rings. Even though I'm not visible from the front door, I hurriedly pull up my shorts as Edward scrambles to get the money he'd put out and answer the door.

Once he's paid for the pizza and closed the door, I get up from the couch, taking the pizza into the kitchen while Edward washes his hands. I dig around in his cabinets for plates, grabbing two fresh bottles of water from the fridge.

When Edward comes back, he eyes me warily. "Are you Ok with what happened?" he asks, taking a chair across from me.

I look at him like he's just sprouted a second head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I'm still your teacher…"

"It's not like you forced me into something I didn't want to do. Or that I didn't enjoy every second."

"I really didn't mean to do that, but I got a little carried away," he chuckles.

"I'm not complaining," I assure him. "You can touch me anytime you want."

"Unfortunately, I can't. We both need to behave at school this week. But… we can go out again next weekend?"

"Asking me on a second date before this one is even over with?" I grin.

"Actually, I was thinking of today as our second date. The first was two weeks ago, even if we both just got drinks," he grins back.

"So… next week will be…"

"Our third date."

A/N: So finally we know a bit about Edward's past, including how he came to love literature and what he and Tanya had in common that bonded them as friends. And Bella finally got that orgasm he owed her from nearly a year earlier. Are they moving too fast again?

Next update on Thursday. We all know what happens on the third date!

For a teaser: One of the biggest hits of the 1980s!