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word prompt - theft
Edward tugs on the sleeves of my jacket, pulling until I shrug out of it and toss it aside. Our eyes meet - his seem darker tonight - and I reciprocate, helping him out of his own jacket. Smiling this terribly sexy smile, he advances, drawing me into an embrace.
Breathing deeply, I run my fingertips over his arms, touching skin that's usually hidden from me.
"I love warm weather," he says, lips brushing over my ear and down my neck.
"Me too." My eyes close; I tighten my grip on his arms. "There's...so much...stuff. To do."
"So much to do." He sucks gently on my throat. "I knew you'd be soft. Your skin..." he trails off, kissing his way to my mouth. "This...is why I love summer."
"But it's spring," I say, letting him kiss me. Finally.
It's the most nonsensical conversation ever, but the part of my brain that's still actually processing words understands that he, like all guys, just wants to see skin. I can't blame him. Ever since seeing his ink, online and at the gym, I've been a little preoccupied with seeing it...and feeling it...up close, myself.
He threads his fingers through my hair and holds me still, kissing me so deeply it's hard to keep up. I do my best, though, exploring his perfect mouth with my tongue.
He tastes so good. He kisses even better.
Slipping my hands just under his shirt, I slide them around and up his back, enjoying the feel of his warm, smooth skin. It's hard to believe that it's covered in ink. I think about seeing it all one day, the implications of that.
My hands are everywhere, and he shudders against me when my fingers graze his hipbones, nipping my lip in response. It drives me kind of crazy, eliciting thoughts of where else he'd bite me if I let him.
I could kiss him anytime, anywhere, but somehow kissing on the couch feels like a safe middle ground. More dangerous than kissing standing up, but not as risky as the floor. Or the bed. Yeah, definitely no reclining.
Pulling away, I kick off my shoes and sit down on the couch, and he follows automatically, easing me back until I'm nearly flat.
Well, okay. Maybe just a little reclining.
When Edward gets up to go, it's three in the morning. It's been a long time since I stayed up to just make out, and, by the way he grimaces as he adjusts himself, I'd guess the same is true for him.
I stand up, hiding a yawn behind my hand. "You're okay to drive, right? You're not going to fall asleep at the wheel?"
"I'm okay," he says, running his hand down my arm. He's done that a lot tonight, touch me in innocent ways that set make my insides flutter and tighten.
I give him his jacket and walk him to the door, trying to ignore the throbbing going on between my legs. The second he leaves I'm taking a shower. Not to cool off, but to take care of business. Judging by his expression, he'll be doing the same thing.
"Bye, Bella," he says, catching my hand. He yanks me close and kisses me. "Can't wait to do that again."
"Me too."
Smiling, he touches my cheek and then leaves.
Sunday afternoon is chilly, but blessedly sunny. Rose and I are relaxing on their back deck, watching the kids mess around on the trampoline.
"All you need now is a diary, where you can chronicle all the highs and lows and kissing and drama," jokes Rose. "I can't remember the last time I stayed up and only kissed."
"I thought the very same thing." I nod, drawing patterns on her patio table with my finger. "High school, probably."
"Well, exactly. Hence the need for a diary."
I roll my eyes.
"I think it was really sweet he wanted Charlie to come with you guys."
"It was. I almost backed out, but...I'm glad I didn't."
"I think this is like, a big step for him."
"What do you mean?" I murmur, watching Charlie bop Embry on the head ever time she comes down.
"Em says he's always been pretty obsessed with soccer, you know? Way back, he couldn't understand why we'd want to settle down so young."
Her words make me ache. I understand both sides of this. I wouldn't have chosen to have a child as early as I did, and ideally, I wouldn't have done it alone. But I regret nothing, as in not a damn thing. I gave Charlie life, but she gave me life, too, in ways I wouldn't have understood without her. I love who am I because of her.
I can't resent Edward for feeling the way he did. I also don't know if he still feels that way. He seems to like Charlie, and she definitely adores him. I don't know if he likes her for her, or simply because she's an extension of me, a part of my life, but I guess time will tell.
And anyway, I know better than to put expectations on people, especially ones like that. This thing with Edward is brand new. Not everything has to be this big, heavy deal.
Emmett comes outside, holding a bowl of chicken wings he's planning on grilling. Mike trails behind, holding hands with Jessica, who before today I'd only seen once at a wedding.
Mike introduces us, all red in the face like he's not sure how to proceed. He's so ridiculous, but it's adorable. Rose and I take Jessica while he goes to man it up at the grill, drinking beers and grunting like Tim the Tool Man Taylor.
Jessica is exactly the sort of girl I'd hoped Mike would find. She's outgoing and kind, bubbly even.
"Charlie is so cute," she gushes, gazing longingly at the trampoline. "I bet you're just in love with her."
"She's pretty great," I agree, taking a sip of my own beer. "She's a handful, though, too."
"I can't wait to have kids." She sighs, picking at the label on her bottle. "Some day."
I peek over at Mike, who's got a plate of burgers and is placing them carefully on the grill. He's a good guy, and I know he's been looking for quite awhile. Hopefully he and Jessica can make this work, whatever it's meant to be.
I'm in Rose's kitchen, tossing together a fruit salad, when the front door opens and closes. My heart leaps; I can't help it. Today's barbecue was last minute, so I've been hoping Edward would show up. Never mind I saw plenty of him last night, and early this morning.
A second later he enters the kitchen, holding two grocery bags.
I look over my shoulder, giving him a smile. "I wondered if you were coming today."
"Em asked me to get ice cream." Setting the bags down on the island, he drops a kiss on my cheek and stands behind me, sliding a hand into my back pocket.
The backyard is plainly visible form our vantage point, and he chuffs quietly, leaning in and pointing. "Chuck's a beast on the trampoline, huh?"
"She loves that thing. Wants one, but our yard isn't big enough." I shake my head, secretly relishing his scruffy chin against my cheek. "Not that I'd even want to deal with one."
"Emmett said you guys had one growing up."
"Yeah, and I sprained my ankle on it when I was eight."
"Oooh." He cringes in sympathy. "Been there a couple of times. Sucks."
"Tell me about it."
His body is warm behind mine. I lean slightly against him, drawn to his solidity.
"She's like a little you," he muses, his breathe tickling me a bit.
"So I've heard."
Remembering my task, I quickly peel a Clementine and section it, tossing it in with the other fruit.
Edward slides his hand from my pocket to my hip, distracting me as he steals a strawberry.
"Hey!" I go to grab him, but he grabs me first, reaching around the other side to take a grape.
"Thief," I tease, wiggling out of his grasp.
"It's not theft when it's willingly given," he says, turning me around so that we're face to face.
"It's not willingly given when you have to steal it," I shoot back, thoroughly enjoying the banter.
Smirking, he dips down and kisses me quick, pulling back before I can get into it. "What about that?"
"What about what?" I slide my hands around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of it.
"Stolen or given?"
We could be talking about so many things right now, and he knows it. I pull him down, kissing him properly, wanting a taste before we have to behave and be social.
But it intensifies quickly. It's like all those months of pretending and holding back and slight touches and awkward glances have culminated into this lusty explosion of kissing.
We've just pulled away when Emmett walks in with a pair of tongs. He takes one look and rolls his eyes. "You should see your faces."
"Oh shut up, Emmett," I retort, reverting back to juvenile sibling behavior.
"Guilty," he sings, rinsing the tongs in the sink.
"As hell," Edward agrees, clapping him on the back. "So what's good, man?"
I escape to the deck with my fruit salad, grateful for the cool outside air on my burning cheeks.
love hearing your thoughts and responses. thank you for reading and for reviewing. you rock.
and oh! last night i listed to the Arctic Monkey's song 'Do I Wanna Know' and thought, wow. that really fits these two, with their indecisive, tentative dance.
xoxoxoxoxo