AN: The third chapter in my latest offering; Edward's POV

Not beta'd because she has been feeling rough lately; give some love and well-wishes to SarcasticBimbo (Belynda) and I hope she feels better soon.

Thanks to MeteorOnAMoonlessNight for pre-reading so any other mistakes after both have read through, are all mine.

It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer!

Irrevocable

Summary

It doesn't matter when I live my life, as long as it's with you.

Chapter 3

Edward

Flinging the door to the study open and not bothering to close it, I strode to the bar and grabbed a bottle of my father's finest whiskey. I dropped to the fireside chair, already taking a large swig of the fiery liquid.

The events of the last hour ran through my mind over and over again, searching for a way out, even though I knew it was a done deal. Half a bottle later, I had not reduced my anger at the situation and, worse still, the anger had negated every effort the whiskey made to get me drunk enough to 'do my duty' ... not that I usually had any problems in that department. I just didn't want to, and neither did my cock.

It was two in the morning when I finally made up my mind to just get it over with. I made my way up the stairs and along the landing towards my chambers, where I knew the girl waited. I really hoped that she was sleeping; as if that would make any difference to the necessary outcome. Despite trying, my anger had only diminished a little as I slammed my way into the room.

The girl startled and rose from the sofa where she had been reclining. Inexplicably, my anger intensified; she should have been waiting for me in my bed. Muttering under my breath, I stalked across the room, watching as trepidation crossed her features. She darted behind the sofa, where I assume she had been sleeping, backing herself toward the bedroom wall.

My brain registered the long mahogany hair, brown eyes and heart-shaped face, which were not familiar to me. A very small part of my mind began to question who she was, but it was overridden by the sudden wave of lust coursing through my body. Reaching out, I grabbed the front of her robe and tore it away from her body. I watched as her body reacted to me, the hardening of her nipples and the flush of pink that covered her from her cheeks all the way down to her belly.

Unable to stop myself, even with the voice in my head warning me of her virgin status, I stepped towards her, taking her breasts in my hands and rolling those delicious pink nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. My mouth met hers, hard, and I couldn't resist a taste when she gasped.

All thought left me as she returned my kisses, drawing me towards her and wrapping her legs around my waist, rubbing her heat against me. I was surprised at her actions; they were not those of a virgin and ... my anger was back! It only fuelled my desire and lust for her. Looking into her eyes, I could see the same emotions reflected back at me, anger and lust.

I fumbled with the buttons on my trousers, struggling to free my cock from within the material. She leaned her body back, giving me access and my fingers found her entrance and the heat between her legs. She was hot, wet, and tight, and as my thumb found her clit, my lust overrode every ounce of my ingrained gentlemanly behavior. My own morals were forgotten, and I drove my cock deep inside her.

For a second her gasp had me re-thinking for a moment about my previous assumptions regarding her virginity, and I truly hoped that the moaning and panting in my ear were telling me the truth; that she was into this just as much as I was. Unable to clear the lust from my head or my body, I continued my assault, pounding into her. Within minutes I could feel her fluttering around my cock as she came dragging me over the edge to the sounds of her screams of pleasure. Coming back to the present and catching my breath, I let her slide off my body, making sure she was able to stand before stepping back.

Seconds later that overwhelming anger was back.

Tucking my cock into my trousers, the first words out of my mouth were, "You're not a virgin!"

Inside I cringed a little recalling just how rough I had just been. A quick look at her face and demeanor, reassured me that I had been correct in my assumptions. In fact, she looked thoroughly and deliciously rumpled and satiated.

Instead of the shame I expected, this chit of a girl had the nerve to grin at me, informing me that even if she had been, she certainly wasn't now. She followed this with informing me of her name, like I wouldn't know it. I ignored the next stupid statement that came out of her mouth, fascinated by her lips.

I paced, shouting that she had better explain why she was telling me her name was Bella and that as her husband I had a right to know the truth about who she had given herself to. Grabbing her, I yanked her towards me.

This infuriating ... Bella ... did not cower as I expected her to; instead, taking a step toward me and glaring directly into my eyes.

"What the hell? You may think me your wife," she burst out, "But it was not me you married. I have no idea who this 'Mary-Alice' is, and as for my virgin status; it's none of your damned business."

Her eyes flashed at me and my cock stirred, reacting to her angry cursing. Ignoring my questions, she asked instead where she was, confusing me completely. I found myself telling her things she should have already known and looked her still virtually naked body up and down. That delicious blush was back as she covered her body.

My lust rose again, and before she uttered another word, my mouth was on hers. Walking her to the bed, I lifted her onto it, lowering my body to the space between her legs. Surprising me yet again, she managed to push back and straddled me, releasing my cock from its cloth prison.

Her hands were hot and soft as she moved them over my length until I again was close to coming. I attempted to push her off, but she resisted my efforts at getting her onto her back and instead sank down on my cock, not resting until she was screaming and collapsing onto my chest, while I thrust wildly, coming so hard I saw stars.

Coming back to myself, I discovered Bella asleep on top of me, so I slid her to one side, bringing the covers up over both of us. Sleep for me was a lost cause, and I finally felt remorse for how rough I had been with her. Damnit, she wasn't a virgin, that much was apparent, but that didn't excuse my actions. And ... I still wanted her; I just couldn't put together the juxtaposition of the girl I had met eight years ago, the one I married, with the one I now found in my bed. They did not seem as if they were the same person.

Unable to find enough peace to be able to sleep, I left Bella in my bed and rose, dressing and planning on going into work early, where at least things made sense.

Downstairs in the dining room, I found my mother, always an early riser.

"Good morning, Edward," she said softly, "I didn't expect to see you this early. Shouldn't you be with your new bride; she will need you close for a few days."

With my back to her, I filled my cup with coffee and took my seat at the table. "Well, Mother, it would seem that my bride is not quite the shy, shrinking violet she would have us all believe. Somehow, she has managed to pull the wool over everyone's eyes in respect of her purity."

"Whatever do you mean, Edward?" My mother looked at me in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Plainly put, Mother, she was not a virgin." I deliberately ground out the word. "She has given what was promised to me, to someone else."

My mother reddened at my tone and coarseness and I was immediately remorseful; it wasn't her fault this had happened. "I'm sorry, Mother. That was uncalled for, please accept my apologies."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement. "I am sure there is a reasonable explanation. I will speak to her today for you, Edward, although I'm not sure what good it will do."

I sighed, thanking her, and rose from the table. She followed me outside where Emmett waited. I leaned down and hugged her, telling her I would be back later. Mounting my horse, I left her standing, as I wondered what I would come home to later.

Bella

I came to slowly, my head pounding. Opening my eyes, I looked around the room; my living room.

"Whoa, freaky," I muttered. "What was that?"

As I rose to my feet, the mirror; that mirror, fell to the floor from my lap. I wasn't sure what part that played in the weird ... 'dream?' ... I had last night. Moving to the passageway, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

"What the fuck am I wearing?" I gaped at the image in front of me. I had on a man's shirt, unbuttoned and draped around my shoulders. My hair was a bird's nest and my face and chest were blotchy and red, with what looked like stubble burn?

Standing there stunned, I looked myself up and down in amazement, wondering if this was some alternate universe I had somehow been transported to without my knowledge. I wandered down the hall to my bedroom. It looked like mine, yet things were not where I expected them to be. My make-up, what there was of it, was strewn across the dressing table, instead of in the drawer. My bed was unmade, wet towels draped over the back of the chair, clothes strewn where they had been taken off. I wasn't a neat freak by any means, but I would never have left everything like this ... not in a million years.

Suddenly I was afraid to check anywhere else. What if someone else was in the house? Never having been chicken, I straightened my back and lifted my chin. Grabbing Jake's old baseball bat from behind the door, I crept back along the hall towards the kitchen. The mess in there was worse, dirty dishes in the sink, half eaten food on the table; it looked for all the world as if someone else had lived here for the last few days. I remembered none of this!

Confirming to myself that no one else was in the house and that the door was locked, I set about tidying up and clearing the mess away. Strangely, nothing was missing; in fact, the only addition was the man's shirt I had woken up dressed in. It was definitely not mine, so where had it come from? My brain was fried, and as a result, I pushed all thoughts about the situation to the back of my mind and headed for the shower.

Standing under the hot water, feeling it cascading down my back, I became aware of the soreness between my legs. My nipples puckered, my skin pebbled and a now familiar coil tightened in my belly, as my mind drifted back over the events of last night. Was it only last night?

Galvanized, I slung my wet hair up in a ponytail, and threw on an old pair of sweats, heading back to the box and its contents, sure that somewhere in amongst the letters, journals and photographs, there was an answer.

Two hours later, I had gone through everything that Esme Cullen had stored in that damned box, and I was no further forward. The letters revealed nothing new; they were all from a time before her marriage to Carlisle, and the photos were just that; photos. That left the journals, and most of them just detailed their lives in general; except the last page, and although there was clearly a connection between the words on the last page and the vanity set, without more information I was still almost at square one.

In my mind, the night spent with Edward Cullen was so real; oh, how I wanted it be real, but the logical part of my mind rejected its reality. The only explanation was a dream; a very vivid one, but sadly, just a dream. But then how did I get from wearing a nightgown to the way I was dressed this morning? My mind couldn't process the definite signs of stubble burn and the general soreness of rough sex; they were totally inexplicable. And what about the state of my house, how did it get like that?

With so many unanswerable questions in my head, I decided to put everything to one side for the rest of today. It was after two o'clock and I had eaten nothing since dinner the previous evening. "No! Don't go there right now." I sighed and rolled my eyes dramatically. This has me talking to myself now; maybe the answer is that I'm actually crazy and everything is only in my head!

Slightly perturbed at my thoughts, I shoved two pop-tarts in the toaster and put the kettle on for tea. I just didn't have the patience for anything more complex right now. Busying myself around the kitchen, I tried not to think at all. Despite that, memories of Edward swirled around me; I could feel the roughness of the stubble on his jaw, the feel of his hands stroking and squeezing my nipples, his fingers inside me, the pressure of his lips on mine, and the taste of him laced with whiskey in my mouth.

The kettle whistled, telling me it was ready to make tea, and shaking me out of the lustful thoughts. "That's not going to get answers, is it now?" Another eye roll, a shake of my head and a sigh. What was happening to me? I had never obsessed over anything, much less sex! I was always the sensible one, but I felt restless and unable to settle for the life that, up until yesterday, was absolutely fine.

Once the tea was made, I took my food into the living room, planning, I supposed, to go over the journals again. They fascinated me! I caught sight of the flashing red light on the phone as I headed for the sofa. Pressing the message button as I walked past, Angela's voice rang out. "Hey, Bella, are you okay? It's lunchtime and I haven't heard from you yet. Call to let me know how you are and when you'll be back? Speak to you soon, bye!"

Confused, I checked the display on the phone, clearly showing the date and time. I sat down heavily on the sofa. "Monday? What the hell happened to Saturday and Sunday?"

Stunned, I slowly reached for the phone. Dialling Angela's number, I numbly told her I wasn't feeling well and would be back in a couple of days. I must have sounded unwell because she didn't question me, said not to worry, that she would manage everything, and to take all the time I needed. The rest of the day was a blur as I went over and over the events of the last day, checking the date more than once to make sure I hadn't imagined my conversation with Angela.

I was almost afraid to go to sleep that night, but my fears were ill-founded. After my usual shower, I was out like a light, sleeping through the night undisturbed by dreams. Chicago was moving into the height of summer now, and Tuesday dawned hot and humid, as usual. After a necessary shower, I decided that, rather than sit at home all day, I would take my laptop and get breakfast at a local café.

I had awoken with renewed determination to find some answers and if my laptop and the internet didn't yield enough results, next stop would be the library to see if books would fill in the gaps. That still left the question of the fading signs on my body; I was almost sorry they were receding.

Oh, my God, the thought crossed my mind, Maybe Mike came home with me after all.

I hadn't thought of that until this minute, and naturally, I was horrified. Not only that I might have done something so stupid, but also at the irrational thought that I had somehow betrayed Edward; how idiotic was that!

I shook those thoughts from my head, deciding that a few well placed questions when I returned to work the next day would give me the answer.

**Irrevocable**

She doesn't believe yet ...

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