Sunday, August 28, 2011

Massage Therapy, Chapter 17 - Test, part 1

Edward Cullen’s Little Black Notebook
Sunday, August 29

Thwap!

I love the sound a tennis ball makes when it hits the sweet spot of the racket. That vibration of felt against nylon, followed by a faint whoosh of air as the racket strings propel the ball back toward its target across the net.

My target was, as always, the green asphalt rectangle approximately ten feet to the left or right of Katrina, depending which side of the court she was protecting. I aimed the ball just far enough to make her run for the volley, then leave her stranded there when I lobbed it back to the opposite side.

I had her running yesterday. I could hear her huffing and puffing, and took great pleasure in each frustrated grunt as she whacked the ball back to me, unable to be as precise in her aim because I had her scrambling to and fro. I was in control. It was my favorite place to be.

She waved a weary arm in defeat after I won the first set. “Break time!” she hollered across the court. Her lip curled sourly at my smug expression as I sprinted down the white tape boundary until we were near the wire fence exit.

“You know, I always used to wish for you to be a happier boy,” she said between panting breaths. “I could always tell when you were feeling down, because you didn’t give a damn whether you won or lost. But these days, you’re annoyingly unstoppable. I should have been careful what I wished for.”

I could only grin in acknowledgement. “I feel kind of unstoppable lately.”

She shook her head amazement and grinned back. “I wonder if Bella has any idea the effect she’s had on you. How much she brought you back to life.”

“I like to think I hid my dysfunction pretty well, but she knew better. She knew all along.” I flashed back to that first night at Billy’s again; her eyes boring into mine after I had inadvertently revealed my deepest pain to her. And then I thought grimly of the fact that she had been able to replay my suffering on her iPod whenever she wanted.

“Maybe that’s why she didn’t give up on you,” Katrina suggested. “Maybe she sensed how much you needed her.”

“We needed each other,” I corrected her. We ordered lemonades from the clubhouse and sat at an umbrella-covered outdoor table in the drowsy late-summer heat. I found myself pouring out the last forty-eight hours’ chain of events: Rosalie’s paranoid accusations, the near-accident it almost caused Bella, and the latter’s guilt-ridden admission of how her mother died. Katrina’s mouth dropped open wider in shock with each revelation.

“Holy shit,” she finally exclaimed when I was finished. “No wonder you two were so drawn to each other. Two souls in need of the same kind of comfort. So she was probably more understanding than you ever dreamed she’d be about Tanya, right?”

My eyes fell sheepishly to my lemonade glass. I stabbed at the ice cubes with my straw in lieu of making a reply.

“Edward,” Katrina admonished, her disappointment almost outweighed by her disapproval. “Haven’t you told her anything?”

I finally met her gaze with a guilty one of my own.

“I don’t believe it,” she huffed. “You have a perfect opportunity to get some of that past guilt off your chest and find some peace. Why aren’t you taking it?”

I shook my head in disagreement. “It’s not the same. Bella lost her mother. I can’t begin to know what that’s like. And she was truly innocent of any wrongdoing--the whole thing was purely an accident. Whereas what I did was….” I trailed off, unable to take another step down that particular path on memory lane. If I couldn’t talk to Kate about it again, how would I ever be able to tell the whole awful tale to the girl I loved?

“What you did was try to save Tanya the best way you knew how,” Kate insisted. “You were not responsible for her actions.”

“I was selfish. I wanted out, so I left. I didn’t give a damn about the aftermath. And guess what? Fate and Karma took care of the rest.”

“Don’t do this,” she warned, giving me that look I knew well. We’d had this discussion before, long ago. “You could not have predicted or controlled what happened. People have free will, and Tanya was no exception. You have got to stop taking the blame for her mistakes. I thought you had. If you don’t put this to rest once and for all… let go of that misplaced guilt instead of carrying it around like a hundred-pound yoke on your back, it’s going to grind you right back into the ground again. For God’s sake, let Bella help you with it.”

I looked into Kate’s pleading blue eyes and couldn’t help but think that she was woefully naïve. “Bella just now let go of her own guilt, and it took her six years to do it. I am not going to dump all my past bullshit on her and ask her to deal with that instead. I won’t add one more bit of burden to her life. Not now. I won’t be that selfish with her.”

Katrina’s sigh was both exasperated and resigned. She knew by my tone of voice that I would not be swayed. “Fine. But you need to think about something. Bella let you in on her darkest secrets and her own self-blame, because she trusted you not to judge her or turn your back on her. Don’t you think she would welcome the opportunity to do that for you? After she bared her soul to you, imagine how she’ll feel if you don’t trust her enough to do the same.”

“Of course I trust her,” I insisted. “I am going to tell her, when the time is right.”

Kate gave me a skeptical look. “The time is never going to be right, Edward. There will always be a convenient excuse not to get into it. But you’d better make sure you do it before she doubts your trust in her. If you wait too long, she’ll start to ask all kinds of questions why.”

Dread began to gnaw at my gut, and I knew it was because Katrina was right. I knew I was trying to spare myself as much as I was Bella. The truth was, I was afraid. Afraid to re-live the past when I’d spent three years trying to bury it. Afraid of Bella’s reaction, no matter how sympathetic. Afraid that she’d never look at me the same way she did now.

“I’ll tell her after her birthday,” I said at last. I was surprised to hear the words myself. I wasn’t sure where that deadline came from, but I knew it was only a couple of weeks away. “She’ll be twenty-three on September thirteenth. I’ll tell her the next day.”

Kate reached across the table for my hand. I let her give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Even though I’ve only known Bella a short time, I know you won’t be sorry you confided in her. She’s crazy about you. You should see her face when she talks about you… all starry-eyed. It’s so stinking cute,” she grinned.

I managed a smile of my own at the thought. No wonder I was in no hurry to change that look in Bella’s eyes.

“You did a nice job on her, by the way,” I commented, subtly changing the subject. “I checked her out myself last week and again last night. Unofficially, of course.”

“Of course. Well, you did all the groundwork. She’s reached the maintenance stage now, I would say. That’s why I didn’t schedule an appointment with her today. But after that little accident she had Thursday, I’m glad to hear she’s doing okay.” Kate took a sip of lemonade and frowned. “What the hell is Rosalie’s problem, anyway? I still don’t get why she went behind Bella’s back and cornered you that way. What did Emmett have to say about that?”

“I’m not sure how much he knows. I didn’t get a chance to ask him about it yesterday, and I’m trying to figure out how to broach the subject. I kind of want to find out from him how much Rosalie is confiding in him. I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her, and if she’s keeping stuff from my brother, I think he should know about it.”

“Really. So you think they should have full disclosure in their relationship, huh? That’s an interesting double standard you’ve got, there, Edward,” Kate said dryly, taking a long draught of her drink.

“Don’t start with me again unless you want another ass-whooping on that court. I am prepared to beat you down. No mercy.”

“You’ve already shown me no mercy. I lost our first set five-to-one. How much worse can it get?”

“Well, I can always beat you six-all in the next,” I grinned.

“Hell, no. I’m not goin’ out like that.” She shoved her empty glass away, grabbed her racket and motioned to the court. I eagerly followed.

Katrina put up a valiant fight. I quickly found my groove again and she was no match for it. She managed to pull out a narrow win in the third game, but I bested her five out of six once more. I simply refused to let anything stand in my way now. Not Kate’s brutal backhand, not Rosalie’s paranoid accusations, not even the truth about you, Tanya. I’d deal with them all when the time came.

My phone was jangling with guitar riffs when I got out of the men’s shower. I rapidly dug through my gym bag to find it, assuming it was Bella, only to be surprised to see Mom’s number on my caller ID.

“Hey, Mom,” I answered, toweling my hair dry with my free hand.

“How’s my darling boy today?”

“Feeling victorious, actually. I just annihilated Katrina ten games to two.”

“That’s not very chivalrous,” she clucked.

“Chivalrous? Clearly you’ve never seen her play. She usually hands me my ass and gloats about it the rest of the day. This was divine retribution.”

“Edward,” she said reprovingly of my language. Then her voice softened. “It’s nice to hear you in such good spirits, though. Your father tells me the two of you had a good talk earlier this week.”

“Yeah, we did,” I admitted.

“Well, I’m glad. It was long overdue. I’m proud of you for trying to get past some of those old resentments.”

I sighed, not wanting to get into this discussion. My reply was short. “It was time.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she said. She must have gotten the hint from my tone because she switched topics. “Your dad also said he mentioned to you that I’d like to have a little Labor Day get-together with the family before Alice goes back to school. I’d love it if you could bring Bella out to the house a week from Monday.”

Uneasiness prickled down my back. “Who else did you invite?”

“Well, I invited your uncle, but the Platts are all going to a reunion on Liz’s side of the family. So it will just be you and Bella, Alice and Jasper, and Emmett and Rosalie.”

That last inclusion justified my uneasiness. I wasn’t anxious to see Rosalie anytime soon, or ever, for that matter. But if my brother insisted on dating her, we’d better try to figure out how to get along.

“Sure, I’ll check with Bella. She has to work at an outdoor music festival next Saturday, but I don’t think she has any other commitments after that.”

“Oh, good. This is the first time all three of my children have had significant others at the same time. I want to take advantage of the fact that all of you seem to be in happy relationships right now. This will be the perfect way to get to know them all better.”

“You mean interrogate them under the guise of harmless party chatter?” I teased.

“I’ll leave that to your father,” she laughed, though that wasn’t too far from the truth. I wasn’t worried. I was fairly certain Bella would be the first girl I’d ever brought home of whom both my parents would fully approve. Rosalie was a different story. I wondered what they’d think of her if they knew how devious she really was.

I promised Mom I’d do my best to bring Bella to the party and she sounded grateful. As I hung up the phone, I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been out to the house. The fact that it was across the Sound always seemed to be a convenient excuse not to visit. It still reminded me of the months I’d spent there after I quit school, living in a haze of self-condemnation while my parents gave me pitying looks and hesitantly asked every week if I’d been to counseling like I had agreed. I felt like telling them my psychiatrist was an idiot, and that so far, reliving every shitty and horrific thing that had happened did not seem to be expunging it from my psyche or my soul.

But instead I would avoid their sad, disappointed eyes and bury myself in my room like I did when I was a teenager. Writing songs. Practicing other people’s songs. Writing letters that I could never send, making apologies that would never be heard. Wallowing.

No wonder I hated going home.

I called Bella from the car when I was halfway to her house. The sound of her voice was sweet relief. I asked her what she was doing.

“I just got out of the shower, actually,” she informed me. “Who knew yoga and house-cleaning could work up such a sweat?”

“I’m glad you went to yoga with Alice like I suggested. She’s always on me about monopolizing your time. I just got out of the shower, too, but hearing you talk about yoga makes working up another sweat sound much more appealing.”

She ignored my innuendo. “I’m glad I went with Alice, too, believe it or not. I’m going to miss her when she goes back to school,” she sighed. “I still hate the actual yoga class itself. But on the upside, I feel pretty limber right now. Pretty loose.”

“Shall we put that to the test? I can think of a few positions we haven’t tried yet.”

“You and your one-track mind,” she replied in exasperation. “One morning without sex and it’s the first thing you bring up.”

“You’re the one who brought it up, if you catch my drift.”

“It’s hard to miss,” she replied dryly. “So how did your tennis match with Kate go? Did you win?”

“Oh, I did so much more than win. I mopped the court with her. I smoked her ass ten games to two. The taste of victory is so, so sweet,” I said with satisfaction. “Almost as sweet as your kisses. But not quite.”

“Oh brother,” she groaned. “So now you’re trying to butter me up? Subtle.”

“I am not trying to butter you up. Unless you like that sort of thing. I could switch to massage oil tonight and grease you up like a Slip-n-Slide. That could be fun. But a little hard on your bed sheets.”

“Edward, please stop talking about sex. It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“And this is a problem why, exactly?”

Her answering sigh sounded annoyed.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“I’m thinking!” she replied with a frustrated laugh.

“Exactly. There is no good reason not to have sex in the middle of the afternoon. I can see what I’m doing better.”

“Oh my God.” I could see her shaking her head in my mind’s eye, cheeks reddening, wet hair brushing back and forth across her shoulder blades. I imagined winding it around my fingers… grasping and tugging at it while I fucked her from behind.

“Do you know what I’m thinking about right now?” The words came out low and throaty.

“I can guess,” she answered. Her voice was lower, quieter, too. I wondered exactly what kinds of images were flashing through her mind.

“Do you remember that first night at your place? When you opened the refrigerator door to get me a drink… the way the light spilled out around you… the way those little boy shorts of yours were riding up your ass… I couldn’t even think after that. I wanted you so badly, I thought I would lose my mind.”

Her laugh was small, somewhat disbelieving. “If I’d known you were that easy, I would have worn boy shorts to all my massage appointments.”

“No, I like those lace-edged panties. They always made me wonder about you… let me know that you were all woman underneath those concert t-shirts.”

She let out an embarrassed-sounding laugh. “You were no better that night, you know. Standing there in nothing but your underwear when I turned around… geezus. I couldn’t stop staring. I was so ready for you just take me on the countertop or bend me over the kitchen table. I wanted you just as much as you wanted me.”

The sound of her voice was making me crazy. Whisper-light, tense with want.

“I think we deserve a do-over after what happened to me that night,” I told her. “I’m almost at your place. Why don’t you put on that outfit and wait for me in the kitchen.”

She was quiet a moment. “Okay,” she said at last.

My dick was already throbbing by the time I bounded up the stairs to Bella’s duplex. I couldn’t believe she had thought about me taking her from behind over the table. It was about time I made good on my promise to make her fantasies come true. The fact that I’d be fulfilling a few of my own in the process was icing on the cake.

She had left the front door unlocked. I bolted it behind me after entering, then tossed my gym bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes by the front door. I peeled off my t-shirt and shorts and tossed them next to my backpack on the couch. I crept toward the kitchen doorway, my heart beginning to pound, wondering what I would see.

My sweet, naughty girl did not disappoint. I arrived in the kitchen just in time to see her unfurl a clean cotton tablecloth over the round wooden table. She bent over to straighten and smooth it over the tabletop; the equivalent of shaking her tail feathers in my face, taunting me. Her underwear cut across her cheeks in the most maddening way possible. She wore the same pair as before, decorated with thin multi-colored stripes, and the same matching solid blue camisole on top.

I closed the space between us and my arms were wrapped around her before she could even stand upright all the way. She gasped as if she hadn’t known I was there, but her hands were quick to grip my arms, holding me to her.

“Please, sir, I don’t have any money, if that‘s what you’re after,” she trilled in a sing-song voice. “You’re welcome to anything in the house. Just don’t hurt me,” was her mock plea.

I chortled softly in her ear at her little game. “I have no intention of hurting you. But I’m glad I have your permission to take whatever I want,” I whispered, my lips brushing her earlobe. Goosebumps traveled down her neck and arms in response, and unadulterated lust surged through my veins at the proof of what I did to her. “I want you, and I intend to take you. You’re what I came here for.”

She whimpered softly as my lips traveled down her neck and I pulled her closer to me. I slid my hands underneath her shirt and slowly worked them upward, stroking every rib, then rubbing each breast until her nipples were hard against my fingers. She moaned, reached back and threaded her fingers through my hair as my mouth followed the crook of her neck to her shoulder. When I pulled up on the hem of her shirt, she let go so that I could remove it and toss it to a nearby kitchen chair.

She was soon captive in my arms again, my lips seeking hers and staking their claim. My tongue was quick to push its way into her mouth, but she was just as quick to grant me access. Her kisses were as hungry as mine and her hand clutched the side of my face, holding me in place as she leaned back against me, pressing her delectable ass against my straining boxer briefs. I was certain I would not be able to keep my hands off it for much longer.

“Do you welcome all intruders into your home this way?” I murmured between kisses.

“Only the really handsome, sexy ones,” she replied with a grin, her play-façade beginning to crack.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered that you find me sexy…” kiss… “or appalled at your carelessness.” Kiss, kiss. “After all, I could be a lunatic for all you know. Some freak with God knows what kind of fetishes.” My kisses traced the blush of her cheek before I concluded in her ear, “Maybe I should teach you a lesson about judging books by their covers.” I let go of her and slid my hands down between us, grasping one buttock in each hand and giving them a squeeze.

“And how will you do that?” she whispered, her breath catching as I kneaded her flesh between my fingers.

She gasped loudly at the speed of my response. I yanked the cute little boy shorts down to her knees with my left hand and gave her ass a resounding slap across both cheeks with my right. She shrieked and her hands went down on the table in front of her at the impact, which only pushed her backside toward me. I stroked its pale, firm flesh and watched the pink rise to the surface. I prayed to God that she was as turned on by this as I was, because I knew I wasn’t ready to stop.

“Does that answer your question?” I murmured as I leaned over her, placing both hands next to hers on the table. I loved the feel of her body under mine; the soft heat of her skin over the solid muscle and bone. “Have you learned your lesson? Or do I need to reinforce it further?”

Her only answer was the quickening of her breath and the tensing of her body beneath me. She pushed back against me, ever so subtly; and I knew she was bracing herself for more. She wanted more. I needed more.

And so I began Bella’s slow, methodical spanking. I was careful not to really hurt her; to strike only hard enough to make her skin tingle and smart and ache for more. I smacked one cheek while gently massaging the other, then switched sides, back and forth, with rhythmic precision. I monitored the cries she emitted with each slap, making sure they were only of pleasure, not pain. That threshold was a fine line, and I was determined to not to cross it.

But as I struck and then smoothed each of her pink buttocks in turn, my cock ached at the glimpse I caught of the openings that lay between. I longed to possess her in every way possible; to invade every orifice of her body and make it mine. I could feel desperation beginning to creep into me as I gazed down at her prone form spread over the table before me, so sexy and vulnerable at once that I didn’t know which I wanted more: to fuck her mercilessly, front and back, exactly as I pleased; or to protect her from the lust that was on the brink of surging out of my control.

My own breathing was labored by the time I stopped the spanking. I massaged her flushed cheeks gently under my fingers until I could no longer resist the sight of her glistening sex. I slid one hand between her buttocks until they met that sweet, wet spot. She groaned and her back arched, opening herself up to take my greedy fingers deep inside.

“It’s shameful how wet you are for me,” I reprimanded her gruffly, unwilling to end our little “intruder” game just yet. I worked my two middle fingers in and out of her at the same steady pace I’d used to spank her, and she whimpered in time with their thrusts. “Look how turned on you are when you don’t even know what kind of kinky fuckery I might have planned for you. Did you look in my backpack, Miss Swan? Did you look to see what kinds of toys I brought with me this weekend?”

Her breath had quickened with every word, every invasion of my fingers; then sucked in sharply at my question.

“No, I didn’t,” she answered, her voice faltering. I could tell she wasn’t sure this was a game anymore. Neither was I. It was beginning to feel more like a test.

“Why didn’t you? I was away for hours.”

She swallowed and looked over her shoulder, piercing my fevered gaze with a hard stare. The motion of my hand inside her stopped cold.

“Because I know what it feels like to have someone violate your privacy,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

And just like that, my raging lust was put in check; my own urge to violate, quelled. I knew she was reminding me about the way Rosalie had rummaged through her belongings, and what the ramifications had been. I had secretly been hoping that she would rifle through my things, because I needed to find out what she would do when confronted with things like handcuffs, vibrators and anal lubricant. I needed to know what her boundaries were.

I knew I’d been testing them now. Pushing her to see how far was too far. To discover what it would take for her to be disgusted with me and walk away. Sexual boundaries were just the tip of the iceberg; a litmus test for real trust. I needed to know that she would trust me no matter what I said or did; not just now, but in the past. A past I could not seem to outrun. A past that sought me out wherever I tried to hide, breathing down my neck, waiting to thwart all my progress and bleed its ugly stain over the both of us.

I couldn’t let it win. I would do whatever it took to earn Bella’s unconditional trust. The hard part would be surrendering mine to her.

My sigh caught in my throat, sounding almost like a sob. I looked down at the beautiful woman in front of me, exposed and utterly open to me, and the emotions that assailed me were nearly more than I could endure. I placed trembling hands on the small of her back, her most tender spot. The troubled part of her that had brought her to me in the first place. I gently traced the valley there, the swell at the top of her buttocks, and then the slope of her back up to her shoulders. I knelt over her and kissed her between the shoulder blades, then placed soft, reverent kisses up each vertebrae to the nape of her neck. She sighed, her head still turned toward me, her cheek resting on her forearm. My hand twisted in her damp hair, just like in my earlier fantasy. I marveled at the thick rope it made in my fist. But unlike in my fantasy, I didn’t grab or pull. I was in awe of its luxurious feel between my fingers. I was so Goddamned grateful for the girl it was attached to that I nearly wept.

I swallowed back my emotion and kissed her gently on the cheek before whispering my pledge.

“This isn’t a game to me. It never was. I want you to understand that you can trust me, no matter what. I am going to do everything in my power to earn it.”

Her chocolate eyes glimmered in the overcast midday light that illuminated her through the kitchen window. In their depths, I saw every ounce of trust I could ever hope to have, already given freely regardless of whether or not I deserved it.

“You can’t earn what’s already yours,” she said, an echo of a text she’d once sent me. Her eyes gave me permission; her words confirmed it. “Do what you want with me. I’ll take my turn later.”

I knew in that moment that she meant what she said. She had done far more than pass my test--she had rendered it null and void. I groaned and tightened my grip in her hair, kissing her beautiful face again, pressing the length of my body against hers. My cock was already where it wanted to be; it picked right up where my fingers had left off. I relished her moan as I filled her, and thrilled to the feel of her pushing back against me to take me in as deeply as possible. I raised myself on my hands for leverage as I pumped in and out of her, reveling in the exquisite sensation of being swallowed inside her, over and over. Once again I discovered that magical fusion of love and lust, making love to her with every sensual skill I possessed, fucking her with a single-minded fury of purpose. The table shook beneath us from the pounding I gave her. Her groans were as animalistic as mine, and when she came, her body quaked all around me with an intensity I knew I would live and die for, come again and again for.

I covered her back with kisses again, then smoothed my hands over her damp ivory skin before raising myself up. I gazed down at the vision of my cock still buried to the hilt inside her. I was sure she could never understand how beautiful the sight of us joined together was to me, nor the discontent I felt when I had to withdraw from her sweet warmth. Neither could she possibly comprehend my irresistible urge to fill her right back up again, as soon as I was physically able. I wasn’t even sure I understood it myself. Did I need to possess her that much, that completely? Or did I simply want to lose myself inside her once more, in that blinding euphoria that momentarily eclipsed every dark shadow that plagued me?

I didn’t know the answer. The only thing I knew for sure was that my own test was just beginning.


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Massage Therapy, Chapter 16 - Confession, part 2

From the Desktop of Bella Swan
Saturday, August 28 (cont’d.)


Kisses along my neck.

Warm, soft. I am dreaming of his lips again.

They part…tongue leaving wet heat behind, only to be cooled by his breath as he works his way down to my shoulder.

It feels real. My dreams of him are always vivid. I’ve even felt him moving inside me, only to wake up alone and empty.

But that was before I knew what it was to truly have him inside me. Those dreams of longing stopped after his love became my reality.

Is this real? He is spooning me, his body curled protectively around mine. His hand is under the sheets, over my breasts…fondling, rubbing my nipples firmly until they respond with a firmness of their own. Soft belly fur presses insistently against my lower back; I arch instinctively toward the silken warmth.

And then I feel it, hard and purposeful, smooth and sleek… like velvet-covered marble sliding between my buttocks. I arch further, lifting my outer leg slightly, parting to take the velvet between my legs. It finds my yearning wetness instantly. I am always this way for him. I couldn’t hide my desire if I wanted to. The evidence of my arousal always gives me away.

“Ready for me so soon….” More velvet, whispering in my ear this time. “You must be feeling better this morning.”

My hand covers his as he caresses my breasts. My leg raises up and back, over his hip; my thigh rests upon his, my foot hooks itself behind his calf.

“I feel amazing,” I sigh, waiting for the velvet marble to push its way inside me. He does not disappoint. One stroke, two, three… and he’s buried to the hilt. I exhale and it ends in a groan; he adds his own at the last thrust.

“You do feel amazing,” he replies, his voice rougher now. He releases my breasts and runs his long fingers down my stomach, over my abdomen, between my legs. He swirls them in circles over the sensitive flesh there as he takes me from behind in slow, deep, strokes. Quiet whimpers escape me already… the sounds of someone crying for more.

I murmur my disappointment as his fingers leave my sex and glide down my thigh, taking the sheet with him, exposing us to the cool air. His hand grips my flesh firmly, then lifts my leg like it weighs nothing. He is opening me up wider for him. He wants to go deeper. Always deeper.

And I love it. I want it. I crave and need it. I need him.

I reach back to wind my fingers in his hair, gripping it tightly as he pushes his velvety shaft all the way in… pulls all the way out … then plunges in again. He’s driving so deep that he hits the opening of my womb and I cry out sharply in a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s too much. Too intense.

He slows. Plants soft kisses near my ear again. He’s going to speak; perhaps apologize.

I don’t want words. At least not those words.

“Don’t stop,” I order him. It sounds more like begging. My need has outweighed my want.

I know he will need no more assurances; no more encouragement. He loves taking over my body, bending it to his will, making it sing. He played me like a maestro the first day he touched me in his massage room. The symphony has only swelled since then, building to crescendo after crescendo in an endless series of gorgeous movements.

His head bows over me, lips searching for the swell of my breast. It is already erect with tension before he tongues it into an aching knot of pleasure. He’s sucking and fucking me in perfect cadence now, the rhythm building so slowly that my mind scarcely perceives it quickening.

My body is much more attuned to the difference. It knows this pace very well, after only seven days. It knows every inch of this velvet marble; has yielded and molded itself to the rigid contours of his flesh. Each time it grips him and caresses him, pulls and releases him, and finally clutches him in spasms of ecstasy when he pushes it beyond the brink of containment.

He’s pushing my body now. Drilling me from behind in search of treasure. I can feel the engorged tip of him slamming mercilessly into the sensitive flesh of my frontal wall. With every driving thrust, he rakes the velvet marble over that quivering bundle of nerves, sparking the slow burn that will soon burst into a conflagration. My body feels it coming before I do. It responds immediately, coaxing and encouraging the quickening of his rhythm, craving the friction that will create the spark. It relishes the escalation of his thrusts. Harder. Faster. Rougher. Deeper.

We pass the familiar threshold now; the point where love-making becomes fucking. Where animal instincts and appetites overwhelm all other considerations.

Or do they? My love for him does not abate as my lust burgeons. Instead, the two conspire to merge into a force so powerful that it is far beyond my control. My hand twists in his hair, grasping it for dear life as I revel in his merciless assault. He is panting. Whimpering. Grunting. Growling. Emitting sounds of base need that I hear myself matching.

And then, he shifts, pulling out, lifting himself from me. It’s so sudden that I cry out in dismay.

“No!”

Did I say it out loud? I must have, for he chuckles. He has the audacity to find humor in breaking our bond. But before I can gather my wits to protest, he is kissing me. Kissing me with a maddening blend of tenderness and hunger that astounds me.

Of course, he isn’t done with me. He’s never done with me until he’s filled me with fireworks and I explode all around him. He is only turning me toward him and shifting our bodies so that he is on top of me. He dominates me now, parting my legs, spreading me open to take more punishment from the velvet-tipped rod.

But his sensual, full-body thrusts are anything but a punishment. The sensation of his torso grinding into mine feels far more like a reward. The heat of his skin blankets me in a passion so blistering that I dissolve beneath him. I am joined with him so completely and utterly that there is no part of me that is separate anymore. I cling to him, our limbs melding, my lungs stealing the air from his before giving it back.

He is pumping so hard now that the expensive bed finally protests noisily beneath us. I reach back and grip the iron headboard to brace myself as he fucks me with relentless fervor. He is all desperate eyes, flaring nostrils, clenched jaw, straining veins and muscles. He is glorious. The intensity of what he is doing to me is overwhelming, unbearable. The only thing more unbearable would be for him to stop.

His eyes beg me to give in; to unleash my most powerful abandon all around him.

With a shuddering cry, I submit.

The ecstasy is astonishing. I sob as if I am in pain, because the pleasure cannot bear anything less. He does the same when he comes. He shakes and shudders and moans as he bathes my core in molten liquid. I want to keep its heat inside me as long as possible; to luxuriate in that part of him that he’s left with me after he has withdrawn.

I wish I could do the same. Leave something of me with him; a reminder of what we’ve shared.

But when I see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at me, I realize I already have.

“Bella--I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.”

Rosalie’s voice abruptly jarred me from my reverie, stealing my momentary calm at the memory of my morning with Edward. A wave of nervousness replaced my post-coital bliss. I had rehearsed what I was going to say to her during the drive from Edward’s place to mine, and again on the trek to work. I had arrived early only to fidget behind my desk, waiting, fuming. I was still furious over her invasion of my privacy, not to mention the cunning way she had cornered Edward. I planned to let her know under no uncertain terms that neither of those actions was acceptable.

But after running out of the office and never returning to work yesterday, I didn’t have much of a leg left to stand on. For all I knew, Rose was as upset with me as I was with her right now.

I had tried to steady my nerves by replaying the morning tryst with Edward in my head. I’d never had a wake-up call that wonderful in my life. After my emotional confessions the day before, sex with him was that much more heightened and meaningful to me. So much more than the physical was shared when we joined together now. I wondered if Edward knew how much strength he gave me just by being with me; being in my corner. He had offered to drive me home, and to work; but I knew very well that I needed to get right back on that bike--or rather, right back in that truck--and keep on going. I don’t think he’ll ever understand how deeply it touched me when he insisted on walking me to my truck this morning, then waited and watched until I had driven safely down his block and around the corner, out of view.

I held on to the memory as I faced Rosalie with uncertainty now. I was surprised when she paused at the chair across from my desk, her eyes asking for my permission to sit. I thought for sure that she would take me into her office rather than let me have the home-turf advantage.

I hesitated, then nodded my consent.

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush,” she said as she lowered herself to the chair. “I know I owe you an apology. What I did was sneaky and underhanded. I should have come to you first about my suspicions instead of trying to trick Edward into telling me what was going on. I’m really sorry, Bella.”

I studied her through narrowed eyes. I had to admit, this was the most contrite I’d ever heard Rosalie sound. It didn’t suit her. Her apparent sincerity sucked a bit of the wind out of my sails. I found myself feeling a little irritated that she’d diffused my anger before I even had the chance to vent it.

“You dug in my desk drawers,” I reminded her crossly. “I had that flash drive inside a coin purse. That means you snooped through my personal belongings to find it.”

She looked ashamed, but not ashamed enough. “I know. I shouldn’t have done it. But truthfully, if you didn’t want me to hear Edward, you shouldn’t have left those music files here at work. That desk and everything in it is Java Noise property. This company pays for all your recording equipment,” she argued.

“That flash drive is mine,” I snapped. “Paid for by me, for my own personal use. I didn’t mean to leave it here. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

Rosalie let out a sigh. “I’m not proud of how I handled all of this,” she repeated. “But just imagine, for a minute, how I felt when I heard Edward for the first time last night. When I realized that you knew exactly how gifted he is, but kept it to yourself this whole time. We pay you to find us the best talent this city has to offer; and the fact that you sat on a diamond in the rough like Edward really galls me, quite frankly,” she fumed. “I don’t mind telling you that I felt a little hurt and betrayed. I actually started to question your loyalty, to be honest.”

My eyes bugged in disbelief. I was too flabbergasted to speak for a moment. When I did find my voice, I was practically sputtering.

“I have been nothing but loyal to you for over a year now. I have busted my hump and put in countless hours of overtime going to clubs and working with artists to get them signed. The first night I saw Edward perform, he made it crystal clear that he had absolutely no desire to become a professional musician. He wanted nothing to do with us, or me, at the time. Rosalie, we have hundreds of artists beating down our doors trying to get a deal with Java. Why would I waste my time on a lost cause?”

“Lost cause?!” she exclaimed with incredulity. “If you can’t convince the guy you’re sleeping with to come in here and lay down a few tracks just for fun, then I seriously wonder about your powers of persuasion. Maybe you aren’t cut out for this business after all, Bella. At least not as an A&R rep.” Her mouth set into a rigid line as her icy eyes challenged me.

I was livid, practically quivering with indignation. “I can’t even believe you just suggested that I should use my relationship with Edward to get him on board as a client. Do I look like a prostitute to you? Because I draw the line at whoring myself out for this company. If you’re really going to make me choose between my loyalty to my job and my loyalty to the man I love, I can already tell you, Edward will win.”

Rosalie let out another sarcastic snort. “Love! You think you’re in love with Edward? You barely know the boy. I can’t believe you have it this bad, this fast. That guy is too smooth for his own good. Too good-looking. He could probably talk you into just about anything,” she grumbled.

My jaw nearly hit the desk after that remark. What the hell was she talking about?

“Where is this coming from?” I demanded. “What is it you think Edward’s trying to persuade me to do, exactly? Other than respect his wishes,” I spat, with a disbelieving shake of my head. “It’s enlightening to know what you really think of me--that I’m so weak-willed that I’d turn into nothing but my boyfriend’s puppet. And I’m beyond offended that you think I only love Edward because he’s good-looking. I had no idea you have such a low opinion of me, Rosalie.” My voice was shaking by the time I was finished. I was floored that she thought I was such a pushover.

She sighed again and rested her forehead in her hand for a moment. “I don’t have a low opinion of you, Bella. I’m a realist, that’s all. I’ve seen stronger-minded girls than you let their lives be completely derailed by a guy who pulled them too far off track. I don’t want to see that happen to you. You’ve got a good future in this business and a chance at a great career if you keep your head on straight.

“I’m sorry if I jumped the gun about Edward,” she continued, not sounding particularly penitent. “I hope I’ve misjudged him. He’s not a straight shooter like his brother is, you know? He holds his cards too close to the vest for me to know what kind of deck he’s playing with. I just don’t want you to be the loser here, Bella. Truly.”

I stared darkly at Rose, wondering where her misplaced paranoia was coming from. Mixed metaphors aside, she was clearly sincere about her distrust of Edward. But what, exactly, did she suspect him of doing? Being a negative influence on me, obviously; but in what way? Just because he didn’t want to sign with Java Noise didn’t mean that I was going to stop looking for talented people who did.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Rose,” I said quietly. “Whether you believe it or not, Edward joining our roster was never a possibility. Either you trust my judgment and my abilities, or you don’t.”

“I’ve never questioned your abilities, you know that,” she assured me. “You’ve got that knack, that ear for potential, that can’t be taught. I want you on my team, Bella. I just hope that’s where you want to be.”

She didn’t seem sure of my answer. And because of her lingering doubt, I wasn’t as certain of my reply as I thought I’d be.

“Of course, I do,” I told her. “I thought I’d spent the last year proving that to you. And I’ll continue to prove it to you, as long as you’ll let me.” I hadn’t forgotten that I’d gone AWOL the afternoon before, and that there might be consequences for that.

Rosalie looked relieved. “I’m more than happy to forgive and forget all of this. If you can forgive my suspicious nature, I’ll forget that you disappeared yesterday without so much as a phone call to let us know you were okay. Deal?”

She actually reached her arm across the desk for a handshake. I tentatively took her hand in mine and then grasped it firmly for a moment before releasing it. We smiled at one another, but a vague uneasiness still lingered within me. I knew I’d always question her trust in me from now on.

“So, what do you think about Jasper’s band? As a three-piece, that is,” I asked her. She had seemed enthusiastic about them yesterday morning, but that was before I knew she was plotting to make Edward a permanent member.

“A three-piece is a hard sell, frankly,” she said. “Not as versatile. They’re still pretty rough around the edges, but they have potential. I think they should keep at it. And I think Jasper should try to get Edward to seriously consider being a permanent part of the outfit. Sorry, I’ll never change my mind about that.”

I could feel the beginnings of an impasse form. “Are you going to tell Jasper that?”

Rosalie hedged a moment. “I don’t want to discourage him. I think he realizes the band needs to gel more, get some gigs under their belt, before we can seriously consider them. So I’ll probably keep that particular opinion to myself.”

I nodded. “My lips are sealed,” I agreed. I had no desire to impart that kind of news to Jasper when he’d chosen to make music his life, whether playing it professionally or teaching it.

“I’ll assume Edward won’t discourage his best friend that way, either, right?” she questioned me. We both knew what she was really asking.

“You can trust Edward,” I said through slightly gritted teeth. “I’m not sure why you’d think otherwise.”

Her eyebrow raised, but she said nothing. At least, nothing more about this now-sore subject. Instead, she changed the subject and began going over plans for the next show for Vegan Vamps, the first band I’d ever gotten signed for Java Noise. Their CD was going to be released soon, and next weekend they would be performing at a Labor Day Weekend outdoor festival showcasing Seattle talent. Aside from The Wolf Pack, they were my main work priority for the coming week. I was glad for the distraction, because I had the feeling that if I didn’t keep myself busy, I’d spend most of my time wondering when Rosalie had begun to doubt me; or, more to the point, how and why Edward had caused it to happen.

When I finally got to take a break for lunch, I escaped to the Istanbul Grill for a few minutes to wolf down a falafel pita. I relaxed in a small booth and checked my phone messages, knowing I would have at least one from Edward.

8:55 a.m. How did it go with Rosalie? Have you seen her yet?

9:57 a.m. I haven’t heard from you. Hope everything’s okay.

10:56 a.m. If you don’t text or call me at lunch, I’m coming over there with a shotgun and a shovel. I doubt anyone will miss her, except maybe Emmett.

I laughed at the last message, and wondered if Edward had any idea how much I loved him. Every time I thought I’d reached the pinnacle, he would do something to swell my heart just a little more.

Sorry I couldn’t check my messages sooner. Been keeping myself busy so I don’t stew over this Rosalie business. She apologized, believe it or not. We still got into it, though. I don’t know what her deal is, thinking I’m a doormat and you’re some kind of Svengali walking all over me. I don’t get it. Still irked that she won’t drop the idea of you joining Jasper’s band. I’m so sorry I got you into this, Edward. Oh, and do you have any idea how much I love you? xoxoxo

I had only eaten a couple more bites of falafel before my phone buzzed in reply.

I don’t know where her paranoia comes from, but she obviously thinks that you not telling her about my occasional open mic nights was some kind of conspiracy against her. Just keep doing the great job for her you always do and prove her wrong. You have nothing to feel bad about. Hold your head high and remember how much I love you, which must be more than you love me, because you are far more deserving.

I made an exasperated clucking noise at his warped logic before typing my return message.

Stop trying to one-up me in the who-loves-whom-more department. After the wake-up “O” you gave me this morning, you are more than deserving. I am the most satisfied, grateful, crazy-in-love girl on the planet. You cannot top that.

Oh, yes I can. You let me fuck you awake at six a.m. That gives me dibs on grateful AND satisfied, though I might have to give you the crazy part, since you’re not a morning person but you let me do it anyway. Just thinking about it makes me want to fuck you again, right now. What are you wearing today?


Why did his crass language always make me hot? It was disturbing.

Gray pin-striped slacks, blue shirt. Very non-descript. I’m not looking particularly fuckable.

Ridiculous. I’m going to pretend I never saw that last sentence. Maybe it has escaped your notice, but I always want to fuck you. There really is no instance in which I wouldn’t want to, so you might as well rid your mind of such notions now. What shade of blue?

Navy. And you are…what’s the word? Incorrigible. That’s putting it mildly. Never mind the fact that there is no instance in which I would not want you to fuck me. So I’d say we are equal in that department.

Oh, that’s not true. I can think of two times already when you’ve asked me not to.

Yes, but if you had wheedled and begged and cajoled, I would have given in.

Damn, woman. You tell me this now? You’ll be sorry you revealed that little nugget to me. There will be no rest for you from now on.

Bring it, fucker. *literally*

GAH. Why do you do this to me at lunch? I’m sitting in a public place with a stiffy now.

Can you save it for about five or six hours until we see each other?

Funny. *sarcasm font* I could, but it might be a bit off-putting to my clients.

Doubtful. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Or ever? They probably all fantasize about you bending them over the massage table and giving them a good working-over.

Oh Christ. Thanks for the visual. My next appointment is with a woman in her seventies.

You’re welcome. Now your stiffy will be short-lived.

I’ll let you resurrect it from the grave tonight, after I give you a massage.

I wished he could see the huge smile that spread across my face at his words.

I’m getting another freebie? *happy dance of joy*

I want to check you out myself after what happened yesterday. I should have done it last night.

I’m fine, worrywart. But if you want to feel for yourself, I am more than willing to comply.

I love it when you surrender to me.


Desire crackled through me, and again I wondered why Edward’s occasional dominance was such a turn-on. It went against every feminist principle I’d ever adhered to. I refused to give in that easily.

I love it when you surrender to me, too.

I have no problem with that. I have a pair of handcuffs, you know. We can take turns having our way with each other.

Another wave of lust barreled down my spine and seeped through my groin. While I deliberated how to reply, my phone buzzed again.

Cat got your tongue, Bella?

No. Just feeling relieved that my genitals are on the inside so no one has to know what I’m thinking.


There, that ought to silence him for a minute.

Almost a minute, anyway.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m going to make your fantasies come true, Bella. Even the ones you didn’t know you had.

I nearly broke out in a sweat then. Was he serious? I didn’t doubt that he had a few sexual toys hiding in the loft somewhere. I wondered what sorts of games he’d played with past conquests… what kinky fetishes he might be harboring. I wondered what kind of sex she had liked.

Tanya. I forced myself to think the name, when I hadn’t for awhile. I wanted to forget she ever existed. But the fact that Edward’s past with her was so mysterious only made me more worried that it was a past I couldn’t live up to. A past that might somehow rear its ugly head in ways I could not foresee.

My phone buzzed once more. I hesitated before reading the message.

I didn’t scare you, did I? You know I never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If I ever do, you have to promise to tell me right away.

I sighed and wondered what my problem was. I trusted him implicitly. I suspected what was really bothering me was that I wanted him to do things to push me out of my comfort zone, even more than he already had. To make me go a step further…to connect with him in ways I had never connected with another human being before. Or maybe what I really wanted was for him to connect with me like he’d never connected with anyone before.

The phone vibrated again in my hand.

Promise me, Bella.

A wry smile pulled at my lips. Even when he was repentant, he was insistent about it. Was this what Rosalie perceived about Edward that made her wary of him? His controlling nature? Maybe she was afraid that that tendency would turn into outright manipulation. If she thought he was capable of that, she was way off base.

I promise, Edward. You just got my mind wandering, that’s all. Thinking…wondering.

What I wouldn’t give to see inside your mind right now.

That works both ways.

I’m an open book. Ask me anything.


I let out a rueful laugh. If only that were true. If I asked him about Tanya now, would he finally tell me everything? But a better question was, did I really want to know?

Okay. What are you doing this weekend? I couldn’t handle the intense turn our text conversation had taken anymore.

LOL That’s easy. Just the usual. I have three clients scheduled tomorrow morning, then a tennis match with Katrina. I can cancel that if you’d like, though.

No, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I’m a rotten tennis player. That will give me a chance to get a few things done around the apartment while Angela’s away.

She won’t be there this weekend?

No, she’ll be at Ben’s. You want to spend some time at my place?

If you’ll have me.

Of course I’ll have you. But it’s so cramped and shabby chic compared to the loft.

I like your place. It’s warm and cozy and it smells like you. Besides, I have a personal challenge that I need to conquer, and it can only be done at your place.

I’m intrigued. …?

I have yet to sustain an erection and fuck you properly in your bed. Your bed taunts me with memories of drunken impotence and sore hoo-has. It’s time I taught it a lesson.

My nether regions burned anew. Damn him, anyway.

Typical man. Always turning the conversation back to sex.

;) The little head has a mind of its own. The big head is thinking that maybe we should just take it easy tonight. I know a great burger joint that we can relax at for awhile; then I can take you home and give you a proper massage. How does that sound?


I turned my phone around and took a quick snapshot of the smile on my face, then sent it to Edward with the caption, Does this answer your question?

It does that and so much more. Why don’t I pick you up after work? Six-thirty or so?

Perfect. You are perfect. It would be annoying if I didn’t love you so much.

I am far from perfect, but your love definitely makes me a better man.


I shook my head as I read his last message. He really didn’t get it, did he? That those were the sentiments that made him perfect in my eyes; the things that tied my heartstrings in knots all around him.

The thought of my upcoming weekend with him kept me going through my busy afternoon. Rosalie and I deftly avoided any mention of Edward or Jasper and focused on the projects at hand. We were perfectly pleasant toward one another on the surface, but I could feel the foundation of what I had thought was a solid working relationship crumbling beneath the façade. By the time I left work, I was emotionally drained from keeping up the charade.

After trudging up the myriad steps to my apartment, I wanted nothing more than to take a nap. Angela had already vacated the house, so I took advantage of the alone time to stretch out on the couch and relax for a minute. The next thing I heard was the front doorbell, jolting me awake.

“Oh, shit,” I sighed. Edward was already here and I hadn’t even changed out of my work clothes yet. I groggily made my way to the front door, smiling sheepishly up at his gorgeous face as I opened it.

“Hey beautiful,” he smiled down at me, then leaned in for a kiss. “Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to rest my eyes for a minute and I guess I fell asleep. Just let me change clothes and I’ll be ready in no time.”

“We don’t have to go out now,” he said as he followed me through the living room. “You can sleep some more and we can just order dinner in if you want.”

“No, I want to go out, really,” I insisted, giving his arm a squeeze. “I think getting out for a bit would do me good.”

He caught my hand in his and squeezed back. “The place I’m taking you to is really laid back, and they make the best burgers in the city. I think you’ll like it.”

I assured him I would, then turned toward my bedroom. He pulled at my hand to stop me, then leaned in close, his breath hot in my ear.

“I love you in blue. You lied to me earlier--you look insanely fuckable.”

I almost didn’t blush anymore when he said things like that to me. Almost.

“You have such an elegant way with words, Mr. Cullen,” I sighed up at him.

His grin was irrepressible. “All the better to seduce you with, Miss Swan.”

I shook my head and mouthed the word, “Later,” before pulling away from his grasp and making a quick dash for my bedroom door. I closed it behind me, knowing that if he wandered in to watch me undress, we’d never make it out of the house.

One comfy pair of jeans and faded periwinkle t-shirt later, I was ensconced safely in the Volvo, admiring Edward’s chiseled profile as he drove.

“I notice you’re still wearing blue,” he commented with a sly sideways glance.

“I figured it would increase my odds later on.”

He chuckled; a toasty, irresistible sound. “I don’t think you quite grasped the gist of the text messages I sent you today. It doesn‘t matter what you’re wearing--I’m a sure thing.”

I relished the tingles that danced through me at his words. I said nothing; just smiled and basked in the warm, safe feeling of Edward behind the wheel as we traversed the city in search of dinner. He had the advantage of having grown up here, and consequently knew the out-of-the-way dives that always seemed to have the best food.

Mo’s Diner was literally a hole in the wall, sandwiched between a real estate office and a hair salon on the south side. The place would have been virtually undetectable from the street were it not for the anemic fluorescent sign in the window proclaiming it open for business.

The inside was a different story. The room was narrow but long, lined with dark wood booths, a fully stocked bar, and walls full of old Seattle memorabilia. Apparently “Mo” couldn’t decide whether the place should be a diner or a pub, so he split the difference. The result was a hodge-podge of neon and chrome flourishes set against a backdrop of exposed brick and ambient light.

“I like this place,” I smiled as we settled into a cozy booth. I was grateful for the tiny table for two that Edward had spotted toward the back. I relaxed immediately in its cushy faux leather seats, my legs intertwining with his under the table, eyes feasting on his perpetually disheveled hair and lazy grin.

“Did you have a beer or something before you came to pick me up?” I accused as I studied his languid green gaze. His eyes had that watery look about them; less intense than when he was stone-cold sober.

“Just one,” he answered defensively. “Just enough to take the edge off. I was worried about you all morning, you know.”

“Sure, blame me,” I retorted as the waiter approached to take our drink orders. “I’ll have a large draw of the house special. I have some catching up to do,” I told him, with a teasing glare at Edward. He went and ordered the same, giving me an ornery smirk in return.

“Well, I’m glad you made it through the afternoon without incident,” he said, obviously referring to my situation with Rosalie.

I shrugged. “I had to. She’s my boss. I mean, I get that she feels like I was keeping her in the dark about you, I guess. But it’s like she’s irritated with you just because you have no interest in a music career. I just don’t get her problem with you. And anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with me now.” I squeezed his ankle between mine under the table.

He looked like he was trying to fight the satisfied grin that turned the corners of his mouth. “While I appreciate your moral outrage on my behalf, I don’t want to be the cause of any problems for you at work. Don’t worry about me in all of this. Just watch out for yourself.”

“I can’t believe I actually have to. I never thought trust would be an issue between Rose and me. Now it’s been broken on both sides.” I shook my head, still perturbed at how things had gone down earlier. Edward looked ready to say something when the waiter brought our beers and took our burger orders. By the time he left, I thought of one more thing my boss had done that incensed me.

“You won’t believe what she said about Jasper’s band. She’s not sold on them as-is. She still wants him to try to convince you to join them, since I obviously won’t,” I ranted. “And then she actually had the nerve to ask me to make sure you don’t say anything to him about her criticism. She said she doesn’t want to discourage him. I guess I should be glad that she was actually thinking about someone other than herself for a minute,” I grumbled.

“I would never repeat anything like that, especially from her,” he said gruffly. “Jasper’s fully aware that the band needs a bit more polish. I don’t think she’s giving him enough credit.” He frowned at his beer, then seemed to force his lips into a lopsided grin.

“You know what? I really don’t want to talk about Rosalie anymore. Why don’t you tell me what else you’re working on right now?” he asked.

I was only too happy to change the subject to Vegan Vamps, whose name amused Edward greatly when I first uttered it. He was less amused when I filled him in on the Wolf Pack’s progress, though he appeared relieved to hear that they’d soon be spending most of their time at a recording studio across town.

“You do realize it’s ridiculous for you to even give Jake a second thought anymore, right?” I asked him. I couldn’t believe he’d be jealous of any other guy, let alone Jake.

“Like I told you, I trust you completely. Jacob Black, not so much. I keep hoping he’ll take Jessica up on her date offer, but so far he hasn’t taken the bait. Apparently he’s holding out for a tastier morsel.” One eyebrow raised as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I rolled my own back at him and took a swig of my beer. “I can’t believe Jessica asked Jake out. She’s a braver soul than I am. But did you ever consider that maybe she’s just not his type?”

Edward’s lip raised in a slight sneer. “I would say the thought has crossed my mind, but that would be a lie. I don’t spend much time giving a damn what Jacob likes, unless that happens to be you.”

As I looked at Edward’s scowling countenance, I couldn’t help but grin.

“What?” he demanded crossly as my smile grew.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous. A little scary, but cute.”

He gave me a sour smile. “I’m glad I amuse you.”

“Hey, it’s not very often that I get to turn the tables on you. Everywhere we go, I have to endure women eying you up and down like a juicy steak. I’m pretty sure I even saw our waiter wink at you earlier.”

Edward gave me a look of mock horror. “A, that is patently untrue, so take it back. And B, you have no idea how many guys check you out. You’re completely oblivious to your effect on the opposite sex.”

I took a quick look around the diner. Not one single person was paying a lick of attention to either of us.

“Yep, you’re right,” I intoned gravely. “I might have to go outside and get a stick to beat off all this unwanted attention.”

Edward’s eyes narrowed at me further. “You’re making me want to take you over my knee and paddle some sense into you instead.”

I squirmed in my seat with discomfiting pleasure at the thought of him slapping my bare backside again. Why the hell did I like it so much? I could feel my face beginning to burn as pink as my ass cheeks probably did when he was through with me. I tried to smother my embarrassment in false bravado.

“I wonder, speaking of turning the tables… what if I did that to you? How would you like it?” I posed the question rhetorically, yet I was actually curious to hear the answer.

That wicked slow grin of his nearly did me in. “Why don’t you try me sometime this weekend and find out?”

It was then that I noticed our legs moving in tandem under the table, slowly sliding together and pressing against each other’s. I slipped off one flip-flop and raked my bare toes over the soft hair of Edward’s shin under his pant leg. He inhaled sharply and his nostrils flared. The sight of it turned me on further, emboldening me.

“Maybe I’ll try that and more,” I taunted. I removed my foot from Edward’s shin and slid it up between his blue-jean covered legs until it rested over the growing bulge in his crotch. My eyes never left his as I gripped the denim tent under my toes and gave him a firm squeeze. His nostrils flared even more as he stared hungrily back at me.

Before I could remove my foot in triumph, he grabbed it in both hands, rubbing it along the length of his hardening dick. “Thinking of adding a foot job to that list, are you?” he said in the Sex Voice. He began massaging my foot, his fingers kneading and tickling the tender flesh along the sole and between my toes. “Do you realize how many nerve endings are in the bottoms of your feet? I think you’d get almost as much pleasure out of jacking me off with them as I would.”

I took a gulp of beer and let my false bravado do the talking again. “Why wait? Unzip your fly and let’s find out right now.”

Edward’s piercing gaze looked dead serious for a moment, as if he were ready to do it. Then the inexorable half-grin claimed his lips and he shook his head, relenting.

“If the waiter weren’t headed our way right now, I’d give your foot a shower you’d never forget,” he murmured, one eyebrow cocked in a wicked arch.

“You would not,” I whispered as I caught sight of our waiter and his serving tray out of the corner of my eye.

Edward chuckled and let go of my foot, which fell limply to the floor in rejection. We both smiled innocently up at our server as he set our burger platters on the table.

“Saved by the bell,” Edward smirked as the waiter retreated.

“Like you’d let me jerk you off under the table in here,” I retorted, reaching for the squeeze-bottle of catsup and shaking it briefly.

“’Let you?‘ More like, beg you. Nice visual, by the way,” Edward commented as I squirted the catsup onto my plate in rhythmic spurts.

“You are really too perverted to live.”

“Methinks thou doth protest too much,” he said smugly. “You get off on it. And I’d let you suck me off under this table right now if you wanted to.” He took a hefty bite of his burger and chewed it thoughtfully while I gave him a baleful glare. “I wonder if that would get you off, too. Sex in public.” His eyebrow raised provocatively again, and moisture seeped unbidden into my panties. I wanted to point the catsup bottle at his face and douse him with it for being such a prick. I also wanted to crawl under the table and do exactly what he now had me fantasizing about.

“Unless you want to wear this catsup out of here, I’d suggest you stop that train of thought right now,” I threatened. I didn’t put the bottle back on the table until his face broke into a devilish grin and he held up his hands in surrender.

“You really make it way too much fun to tease you, Bella,” he said with an unrepentant chuckle.

“I don’t know why I let you get away with it,” I grumbled. “You’re too charming for your own good.” Too smooth for his own good…. Rosalie’s words replayed in my head, making me frown.

“You give as good as you get, most of the time,” Edward pointed out with a smile. The smile faded when he noticed my tense expression. “What is it? I was just kidding around. You know that, right?”

“I know. Forget it. It’s just been a long day, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s not your fault,” I insisted.

We ate our cheeseburgers in silence for a moment, speaking only to comment on how good the food was. I began to get a little annoyed with myself for letting one of Rosalie’s errant comments get to me.

“Let’s talk about you,” I suggested to Edward, putting on a bright smile. “How was your day, dear?”

He let out a relieved-sounding laugh. “Nowhere near as eventful as yours, thankfully. I treated a high school football player with a stress injury, a senior citizen with gout, and a slew of middle-aged women with too much time on their hands.“

I made a harrumphing noise. “I can guess what they were there for.”

He gave me an amused look. “I love that you find me so irresistible, but I have news for you, Bella. Not every woman in the world wants to sleep with me. Honestly.”

“That you know of, “ I joked, though I wasn’t sure how off the mark it was.

“Well, the seventy-year-old was eying me funny, but I think that was just her cataracts acting up.”

“Along with her libido,” I snorted.

Edward was still rolling his eyes when a question that had been nagging me popped into my head. “What about on your end, though? Haven’t you ever had a hard time resisting temptation? I mean, surely you had other clients before me that you were attracted to.”

He shrugged noncommittally. “One or two. But not so much that I ever seriously considered crossing the line, until you.”

“Huh. Really?” I asked skeptically.

“Scout’s honor.”

I puzzled over that tidbit but couldn’t make sense of it. “How is that possible?”

His expression was resolute. “The practice of massage therapy has struggled for years to rise above the old massage parlor connotations and be taken seriously. When I went into this line of work, I vowed to be completely professional at all times, and never let my personal life interfere. I wanted to be above reproach. No exceptions.”

“But you did make an exception,” I said quietly. I searched his eyes, trying to find the answer to the question I’d been asking myself since Day One. I mustered the bravery to finally put it into words. “Why me, Edward? What made you break the rules for me?”

His green gaze was serious as he looked up at me from under slightly knitted brows. “Because you needed me to.” His brows furrowed further, as if in thought. “No, that’s not right. I’m the one who needed to. I don’t know why, exactly. I just knew the minute I touched you that there was a reason you came to me. At first I thought it was so that I could fix you. But now….” He faltered for a moment, nervously fingering his hair before he continued. “I’m realizing that maybe it was so you could fix me.”

I fought the lump that formed in my throat, but I couldn’t stop the film of tears that bathed my eyes.

“I didn’t know you were broken,” I managed to say.

His eyes were pained as he shook his head in disagreement. “Yes, you did.”

The time had passed for footsy under the table. I reached my hand across the tabletop toward his; he met me halfway and laced his fingers through mine. We didn’t let go.

Except for smatterings of small talk, we were quiet as we finished our meal and our beers. The silence was golden this time, though. Reverent, almost, despite our locale. We held hands all the way from the restaurant to my apartment, only parting long enough to get in and out of the car. The energy humming between us through that constant physical connection seemed to speak volumes more than any of the verbal exchanges we’d had that day.

When we entered the house, the unspoken conversation switched from our hands to our mouths as they joined together in a tender, soul-searching kiss. The kiss led to another and another as we inched our way to my bedroom. Edward began undressing me slowly; first pulling my t-shirt carefully over my head, then unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans before tugging them gently to the floor. I reached for the ragged hem of his distressed cotton tee, pushing it up so that my fingers could caress the ripples of his stomach up to the swell of his chest. He let me push the shirt as high as I could before he helped me by lifting it over his head.

Our hungry mouths joined again, tongues seeking warm, wet reassurance from one another. I felt my bra hooks spring apart on my back, then Edward’s fingers glide up my shoulders to the straps. He pulled the bra down my arms and tossed it in the direction of my dresser. His hands quickly found my breasts, palming them and stroking them until a soft sigh escaped from my lips into his.

“Massage time,” he whispered, running his hands down my stomach and around to my back, leaving a trail of goose bumps wherever his hands roamed. I attempted to do the same to him as I let my fingers explore the muscles of his arms before reaching up to stroke the tactile scruff of his neck. I traced the line of his jaw with my thumb, my fingers reaching up to cradle the side of his face. His eyes closed and his head inclined toward my touch. He was so beautiful, so sexy, that I wanted to cry. How could this amazing creature have chosen me, above all others?

His eyes opened and gave me the answer I craved, though I could never hope to understand it. He led me toward the bed, pulled back the covers and told me to lie face down. I silently obeyed, clutching my pillow under my arms and resting my cheek upon it; then I lay in wait for his healing touch.

He turned on the small bedside lamp before leaving the room. I remembered he had brought a back-pack with him for his weekend stay, and it was still on the living room sofa. I soon heard his feet again, noisy with shoes, then muffled and bare on the rug. I smiled up at him as he came and sat next to me, opening a jar of faintly herbal-smelling massage gel.

“I can’t believe you brought that with you,” I said as he worked the gel between his gorgeous hands.

“I came prepared for all sorts of eventualities,” he said mysteriously, making me wonder what other goodies he had packed for the weekend. But for now, I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the utter bliss of Edward’s hands upon me.

He began slowly, in the usual manner; methodically moving down my back and checking each muscle group, stretching and smoothing my body’s twists and turns as he went. He left no part of me untouched. He released the tension in my back, unknotted the muscles of my arms and hands, and kneaded the length of my legs into limp, pliant noodles.

But just when I was as relaxed as I could ever remember being, he changed his methodology. He coated his hands with more gel and began rubbing them firmly up and down my back in broad, rhythmic strokes. Gone were the gentle, meticulous explorations of each specific muscle group. In their place were sweeping, full-body gestures, the pressure of his hands building as he pushed them ruthlessly up and down my limbs, squeezing and stroking my muscles with increasing force.

“Oh, my God,” I moaned into my pillow as the pleasurable sensations grew with the intensity of his massage. In all the times I’d given myself over to his touch, never had I felt so completely at his mercy; so utterly helpless under his total possession of me. His masterful hands seemed to be everywhere at once. I could no longer distinguish where my body ended and they began. His touch was inside me now, imbuing me with his strength, his passion, his will, his desire. There was no difference between mine and his. They were one and the same now.

I don’t know when he removed my panties. I only knew I was exposed, and his hands were giving my hips and buttocks the same achingly delicious treatment he had given the rest of me. I moaned softly when his rhythmic assault of my gluteal muscles sent tremors through my entire groin. The sensual now fused with the sexual as his magic fingers came closer and closer to moving inside me. I longed for their forceful invasion of my deepest recesses, and the sweet release that would follow.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his velvet voice ragged with want. “Turn over for me, Bella.”

A thrill of desire traversed my spine and I obeyed him once more, turning my naked body upward, facing his gaze. His eyes were a dark, turbulent sea as they washed over me, curling around my curves and settling in my valleys. His hands soon followed, and I was overwhelmed again. Fingers following the line of my neck, then splaying across my chest… palms pressing, sliding down my belly… thumbs digging into the twitching nerves at the crease of my thighs. My breaths became sobs as he worked me up and down again, hands squeezing my breasts into quivering peaks and melting my thighs with hard caresses. My lungs expanded and pushed against him, rising into his warm touch. My legs parted like the sea, waiting for his advance.

And finally, his fingers took their prize, sliding into the wet, feeding into the heat. In and out, over and over, as rhythmic and purposeful as the rest of his touches had been. I moaned his name and shamelessly begged for more. I writhed and lifted to meet him, welcoming his possession, reveling in my own surrender.

He was right. I did always get it backwards. I loved it when I surrendered to him. To myself. To us.

I sought his eyes, that wild sea. His stare was glassy when I reached out for him. I grabbed at the waistband of his jeans, fumbling, silently pleading. He answered by standing and removing the last barrier between us, and his desire sprang forth with full intent. I opened myself again and took him in my arms, my legs, my sex. He succumbed with a sigh, and massaged me with his body then, his fingers taking respite in my hair. My hands were finally free to take their turn now, clutching and stroking and caressing every inch of his flesh that they could reach as he thrust himself into me. He gave, I took, and there was no difference between the two. We merged, consumed, erupted… together, united, one.

I ended my day with Edward exactly as it began, and everything in between faded away.



P.S....to my dears who leave comments here...Blogger or my privacy settings or some such shiz is keeping me from replying to my own blog comments unless I sign in anonymously! So just know that I love and appreciate your comments, so thanks and big hugs to you!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Massage Therapy ~ chapter 16, part 2 teaser

Apparently Bella's mind is as poetic as her body is wanton in the early morning hours....

Kisses along my neck.

Warm, soft. I am dreaming of his lips again.

They part…tongue leaving wet heat behind, only to be cooled by his breath as he works his way down to my shoulder.

It feels real. My dreams of him are always vivid. I’ve even felt him moving inside me, only to wake up alone and empty.

But that was before I knew what it was to truly have him inside me. Those dreams of longing stopped after his love became my reality.

Is this real? He is spooning me, his body curled protectively around mine. His hand is under the sheets, over my breasts…fondling, rubbing my nipples firmly until they respond with a firmness of their own. Soft belly fur presses insistently against my lower back; I arch instinctively toward the silken warmth.

And then I feel it, hard and purposeful, smooth and sleek… like velvet-covered marble sliding between my buttocks. I arch further, lifting my outer leg slightly, parting to take the velvet between my legs. It finds my yearning wetness instantly. I am always this way for him. I couldn’t hide my desire if I wanted to. The evidence of my arousal always gives me away.

“Ready for me so soon….” More velvet, whispering in my ear this time. “You must be feeling better this morning.”

My hand covers his as he caresses my breasts. My leg raises up and back, over his hip; my thigh rests upon his, my foot hooks itself behind his calf.

“I feel amazing,” I sigh, waiting for the velvet marble to push its way inside me. He does not disappoint. One stroke, two, three… and he’s buried to the hilt. I exhale and it ends in a groan; he adds his own at the last thrust.

“You do feel amazing,” he replies, his voice rougher now. He releases my breasts and runs his long fingers down my stomach, over my abdomen, between my legs. He swirls them in circles over the sensitive flesh there as he takes me from behind in slow, deep, strokes. Quiet whimpers escape me already… the sounds of someone crying for more.

I murmur my disappointment as his fingers leave my sex and glide down my thigh, taking the sheet with him, exposing us to the cool air. His hand grips my flesh firmly, then lifts my leg like it weighs nothing. He is opening me up wider for him. He wants to go deeper. Always deeper.

And I love it. I want it. I crave and need it. I need him.

I reach back to wind my fingers in his hair, gripping it tightly as he pushes his velvety shaft all the way in… pulls all the way out … then plunges in again. He’s driving so deep that he hits the opening of my womb and I cry out sharply in a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s too much. Too intense.

He slows. Plants soft kisses near my ear again. He’s going to speak; perhaps apologize.

I don’t want words. At least not those words.

“Don’t stop,” I order him. It sounds more like begging. My need has outweighed my want.

I know he will need no more assurances; no more encouragement. He loves taking over my body, bending it to his will, making it sing. He played me like a maestro the first day he touched me in his massage room. The symphony has only swelled since then, building to crescendo after crescendo in an endless series of gorgeous movements.

His head bows over me, lips searching for the swell of my breast. It is already erect with tension before he tongues it into an aching knot of pleasure. He’s sucking and fucking me in perfect cadence now, the rhythm building so slowly that my mind scarcely perceives it quickening.

My body is much more attuned to the difference. It knows this pace very well, after only seven days. It knows every inch of this velvet marble; has yielded and molded itself to the rigid contours of his flesh. Each time it grips him and caresses him, pulls and releases him, and finally clutches him in spasms of ecstasy when he pushes it beyond the brink of containment.

He’s pushing my body now. Drilling me from behind in search of treasure. I can feel the engorged tip of him slamming mercilessly into the sensitive flesh of my frontal wall. With every driving thrust, he rakes the velvet marble over that quivering bundle of nerves, sparking the slow burn that will soon burst into a conflagration. My body feels it coming before I do. It responds immediately, coaxing and encouraging the quickening of his rhythm, craving the friction that will create the spark. It relishes the escalation of his thrusts. Harder. Faster. Rougher. Deeper.

We pass the familiar threshold now; the point where love-making becomes fucking. Where animal instincts and appetites overwhelm all other considerations.

Or do they? My love for him does not abate as my lust burgeons. Instead, the two conspire to merge into a force so powerful that it is far beyond my control. My hand twists in his hair, grasping it for dear life as I revel in his merciless assault. He is panting. Whimpering. Grunting. Growling. Emitting sounds of base need that I hear myself matching.

And then, he shifts, pulling out, lifting himself from me. It’s so sudden that I cry out in dismay.

“No!”

Did I say it out loud? I must have, for he chuckles. He has the audacity to find humor in breaking our bond. But before I can gather my wits to protest, he is kissing me. Kissing me with a maddening blend of tenderness and hunger that astounds me.

Of course, he isn’t done with me. He’s never done with me until he’s filled me with fireworks and I explode all around him. He is only turning me toward him and shifting our bodies so that he is on top of me. He dominates me now, parting my legs, spreading me open to take more punishment from the velvet-tipped rod.

But his sensual, full-body thrusts are anything but a punishment. The sensation of his torso grinding into mine feels far more like a reward. The heat of his skin blankets me in a passion so blistering that I dissolve beneath him. I am joined with him so completely and utterly that there is no part of me that is separate anymore. I cling to him, our limbs melding, my lungs stealing the air from his before giving it back.

He is pumping so hard now that the expensive bed finally protests noisily beneath us. I reach back and grip the iron headboard to brace myself as he fucks me with relentless fervor. He is all desperate eyes, flaring nostrils, clenched jaw, straining veins and muscles. He is glorious. The intensity of what he is doing to me is overwhelming, unbearable. The only thing more unbearable would be for him to stop.

His eyes beg me to give in; to unleash my most powerful abandon all around him.

With a shuddering cry, I submit.

The ecstasy is astonishing. I sob as if I am in pain, because the pleasure cannot bear anything less. He does the same when he comes. He shakes and shudders and moans as he bathes my core in molten liquid. I want to keep its heat inside me as long as possible; to luxuriate in that part of him that he’s left with me after he has withdrawn.

I wish I could do the same. Leave something of me with him; a reminder of what we’ve shared.

But when I see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at me, I realize I already have.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Massage Therapy, Chapter 16 - Confession, part 1

From the Desktop of Bella Swan
Saturday, August 26

I held the oversized mug of peppermint tea close to my face, deeply inhaling its contents. The warm, menthol vapors helped clear my head. I stared into the placid amber sea for a moment, then studied the tiny waves that broke its calm when I blew lightly across the surface. Just holding the cup of tea was soothing beyond measure. It was much easier to look at than Edward’s eyes; those anxious, sad, baffled eyes whose questions I now needed to find the courage to answer.

I sat rigidly in the middle of his couch, wrapped in a beautiful heirloom patchwork quilt, though it wasn’t cold. He probably thought I was in shock, since his first instinct was to wrap me up like a mummy as soon as he managed to get me indoors. I wondered if his grandmother or great-grandmother had made this quilt. I would have to remember to ask him about that later.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” I said at last. My voice was thick and nasal from crying. I could imagine how awful I must look; how puffy and bloodshot my eyes must be. I couldn’t think about that or I wouldn’t be able to face his flawless beauty and continue.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me,” he murmured in that amazing velvet tone of his. “I’m only worried about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He sat close to me, his body turned toward me, one hand rhythmically stroking my hair. Petting me like he would the cat. I glanced across the room and felt another wave of relief wash over me at the sight of Lucky devouring some smelly tuna out of his bowl. If I had hit him-- if I had so much as given him a scratch….

No, I definitely couldn’t think about that. I had escaped the unthinkable this time. I hung onto that knowledge, let it buoy me, so that I’d have the strength to keep paddling. I was amazed at how quickly the abyss had reappeared, ready to swallow me whole, the minute my truck spun out on the wet pavement. I knew that if I could just get the words out now, that undertow of futile terror would lose its pull, and Edward would be my lifesaver.

I looked into his eyes then. Looked past the worry and confusion to find my anchor. Whatever anger he must have felt when he found out I’d recorded him seemed to have been forgotten, at least for now. I knew his arms would be my safe harbor when my difficult journey was done.

“I will be okay,” I told him. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him or convince myself. But once I said the words aloud, I began to believe them. His fingers warmed my scalp as he ran them through my hair; slow, soothing strokes. I took a sip of the tea and enjoyed the heat that bathed my mouth and cleared my throat.

“I was driving the car that day,” I began. I glanced up at Edward to make sure he understood what day I was talking about. Of course, he did. He remembered my story about the accident, I was sure. At least, the vague, blameless version I’d told him the day we first got to know each other. Now it was time for the unvarnished truth.

“I had just turned sixteen and gotten my license. Renee--my mom--was as excited about it as I was, I think. She was like a little kid that way. She would get so wound up and giddy over things. She had so much joy in life.” I took another sip of tea to dissolve the lump forming in my throat.

“Anyway, she always teased me about having to haul me everywhere, and said she would be so glad when I got my license. She was just kidding around, of course. She liked to do things for me whenever she could. She wasn’t much of a cook or housekeeper, so I usually picked up the slack there. But she was great at other things--creative things. She built me a big doll house when I was little, with furniture made out of old spools and margarine containers and stuff. She used to sew little outfits for my dolls, too. She took me to dance lessons, and taught me how to ride a bike.”

I paused for another sip of tea; another hit of courage. Edward sat patiently, fingers still combing my hair, until I continued. “She had just started to teach me to play her old guitar. She wasn’t all that great at it, but she knew the basics and showed them to me. So, for my sixteenth birthday, she bought me lessons with a professional guitarist. And, of course, she was as excited about them as I was. In fact, she had decided that she wanted to sit in on my first lesson. Maybe pick up a few pointers from ‘the master,’ she said.” I stopped and made the quote marks with my fingers, and tried to utter the words with your flair for the dramatic. I let out a faint laugh at the memory; I could hear your voice as clear as day in my head, like it was yesterday.

Edward’s smile was even more faint than my laugh. He sensed where this was headed. I’m sure he had already figured it out. The curl of his lips was bordering on grim, like he was bracing himself. I felt myself doing the same.

“My first lesson was scheduled the day after my sixteenth birthday, at the biggest guitar shop in the city. Mom had decided that I should drive… put my new license to the test. That’s exactly how she put it, too. ‘Let’s put that license to the test, baby!’” I shuddered involuntarily. “She had no way of knowing how horribly I would fail.”

Edward’s brows furrowed, and I knew he wanted to correct me; to assure me I had done nothing wrong. But he let me continue, and I was grateful. My mouth was on a strange sort of autopilot now, the truth emerging from my depths like a long-submerged submarine hell-bent on reaching the surface. It felt almost as alien and separate from me as a submarine, too, the words echoing distantly in my ears as if someone far away was saying them. I watched myself set the mug of tea on the coffee table in front of the sofa before sitting back to continue.

“It was a Saturday afternoon. It was cloudy and looked like rain, which was really unusual for Phoenix. We laughed and said we’d have to write it down in our diaries: ‘today was the first day in three years that we didn’t need to wear sunglasses.’ I wore them anyway, because of the glare. But maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I would have been able to see better without them. Maybe they messed up my peripheral vision. Because how could I not see a delivery truck coming right at us? How is that possible? I mean, it wasn’t as big as a semi, but it was definitely bigger than a pick-up or a van. Big enough to fold our little Focus into an accordion when it hit the passenger door.”

Edward’s hand had stilled. His fingers were frozen in the hair behind my ear. I looked up at him, and the tinge of his skin was reminiscent of his eyes. His head shook ever so slightly from side to side, as if to refute what I was saying. But there was no denying the truth. I knew it with absolute certainty in that moment. It gave me strength, somehow; knowing that the inevitable would have its day, yet I would still be standing afterward.

“Mom was talking and laughing right before it happened. Telling me some funny story about my step-dad Phil when he was trying out for the minors. I was trying to listen to her and laugh in all the right places, but still pay attention to the road. Even though I had practiced driving plenty of times with Mom and Phil before, this was my first real trip half-way across the city. I was paying such close attention, I thought. We came up to the intersection, and the light was green. I thought it had been green for a long time, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t have that much experience. I should have slowed down. Why didn’t I slow down? Because green means ‘go,’ that’s why. Even children know that.”

I shook my head, feeling as confused now as I ever had at the memory. “I’ve never been able to figure out exactly what happened then. No matter how much I slow it down in my mind and try to recall all the details, at some point it just becomes flashes, like still frames from a movie. Green light. I keep going. Mom talking and laughing. Me looking at mom and seeing the truck looming behind her window, coming fast. Unbelievably fast, like he has a green light too. Brakes screaming far too late. Mom screaming.”

Edward looked ill. His eyes were wet at the corners. I was cried out now; bone dry, weary and matter-of-fact.

“Her scream was blessedly short; cut off almost instantly. But the screech of the tires seemed to go on and on, even after the crash was over. The impact of it was impossibly loud, like a bomb going off; and then nothing but those damned tires. It took a minute or two before I realized it wasn’t the tires I was hearing… it was me. I couldn’t stop screaming her name. Screaming ‘no.’ Because I knew she was gone. One look and I knew.”

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memory of all the blood. I didn’t want the nightmares to come back. They had become fewer and further between with each passing year, and for that I was grateful. So was Angela, who had soothed my night terrors more times than I could count.

The movement of Edward’s fingers behind my ear again alerted me to the fact that I’d been staring, unseeing, at the collar of his shirt. I didn’t remember opening my eyes. And yet I suddenly realized I’d been studying the beard stubble growing down his neck, so virulent and full of life, always threatening to claim victory over his Adam’s apple. I reached out tentative fingers to touch it, and sighed at the comfort I found in its prickly persistence.

Edward’s own fingers made their way out of my hair to cup my face, lifting it gently so that my eyes would follow.

“The traffic lights were broken, Bella,” he reminded me softly. His eyes said all the other things his lips did not. It’s not your fault. You had just gotten your license. An experienced driver wouldn’t have fared any better. It was an accident. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You can’t blame yourself. All the things I knew; all the things that counselors and relatives and friends had told me over and over. Assurances that didn’t ease the loss or guilt one damned bit, no matter how hard I tried to let them.

“I know they were broken,” I replied. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Edward’s eyes closed for a moment, forcing one tear to make its escape down his cheek. “I know,” was all he said.

The look in his eyes once again told me that he did know, all too well. I wondered who he had lost. Was it Tanya? I wanted to ask him; yet perversely, I didn’t want to know. Not now. I couldn’t handle any inkling of his love for her at a time when I needed every ounce that he could muster for me.

He pulled me close, and I knew he was now the one whose eyes could not meet mine. “Bella,” he sighed into my ear. The sigh was broken, almost a sob. It eked out more tears of my own, for even though I was finally surmounting my own pain, I could not bear his. His arms were tight around me, hands buried in my hair; I mimicked him with arms encircling his neck as I hung on for dear life. The feel of his chest expanding and contracting against mine was my lifeline. I clung to him, needing his warmth and breath and life with an acute desperation. I’ll never have the chance to ask for your forgiveness, Mom; but I could ask for Edward’s.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was keeping recordings of your singing,” I blurted shakily against the scruff of his neck. The words of this new confession bubbled to the surface and overflowed in a torrent of emotion; new insecurities now replacing old hurts. “At first I was afraid that if I told you, you’d be angry with me and tell me not to do it anymore. And I needed those songs, Edward. I needed to hear your voice. Before we got together, I was borderline obsessed with listening to you. You haunted me. I was so desperate for more of you. I just wanted to be near you, get to know you; get inside your head and your heart and your soul and figure out where all those powerful words and music came from.”

I pulled back and gripped his face in my hands, eyes begging his for understanding. “Those songs mean everything to me. I never would have given them willingly to Rosalie. You have to believe that. I never dreamed she would go through my desk and rifle through my private things. I’m so sorry, Edward. Please, please forgive me.”

His expression was bewildered. He shook his head and let out a wry, disbelieving laugh. “I can’t believe you’re even thinking about any of that right now. It’s water under the bridge…so unimportant in light of everything you just told me.”

“Not to me, it’s not,” I told him, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me, or not trusting me. I would walk on broken glass before I would willingly betray you like that. That’s why I followed you here, to make sure you know that. The minute Rosalie told me she confronted you about signing with us, I literally ran after you, hoping to catch you before you left. I still had my purse and my keys in my hand, so I jumped in the truck and drove here, hoping that you were coming straight home like you said you were. I was so relieved to see you at the door that I didn’t even notice Lucky until he was right there, practically under my wheel well. Edward, if I had hit him, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I never would have forgiven myself.”

Edward was shaking his head through half of my tirade, apparently anxious to make a rebuttal. When I paused to get my breath, he took advantage of the opening.

“Lucky’s fine. And even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t have been your fault. None of this--today, or that horrible day six years ago, was your fault. And I’ll tell you so every day for the rest of your life if that will make you believe it. You can’t keep walking around with the weight of that guilt on your shoulders when it’s not yours to bear. It kills me to see you doing it. I would do anything to take that burden from you.”

I looked into his impassioned green eyes and believed him. I wondered if I could believe him enough to actually do what he asked of me and let go of this, once and for all.

“I truly thought I had let go of a lot of the guilt. The feeling that I was at fault; that I could have reacted differently--better, faster, smarter. I really thought I was past it until Lucky ran in front of my car. As soon as I lost control, it all came rushing back. Every bit of it.” I sighed heavily and took Edward’s hands in mine. He quickly slid his fingers between mine and squeezed them tightly. I loved how big and masculine and capable his hands felt.

“I know I can’t go back and change anything,” I continued. “I used to imagine all the ‘what if’s’ when I was younger. What if we had left just one minute sooner or one minute later? What if Mom had been driving instead? What if she had stayed home? God, you have no idea how many times I wished and dreamed and cried myself to sleep imagining that she hadn’t gotten in the car with me that day. Praying with all my might that when I woke up, she’d be there, apologizing for giving me cold cereal for breakfast again.”

Edward’s hands tightened their grip on mine. “You know your mother wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself,” he said softly.

“Of course I know that. But it’s always been easier said than done.”

He nodded. We both stared at our entwined hands for a moment. His thumbs gently stroked the backs of my hands. Even his tiniest, most subtle caresses had the soothing authority of a masseur. I looked up at his face; his expression was perplexed, brows knitted in thought.

“Did you ever find out what the hell happened to make those traffic lights get stuck? I mean, honestly, you should have been blaming someone in the Phoenix DOT or Public Works Department for gross negligence. You and your step-father should have sued the hell out of them,” Edward said bitterly.

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Funny you should mention that. We did sue them for exactly that--gross negligence, and wrongful death. Well, Phil sued them, really. I was a minor and wasn’t really involved in the proceedings that much. I had moved to Forks by the time the suit went to court. I had to fly back to Phoenix during my summer break to testify. I think I’ve kind of blocked most of it out. All I remember is that repeating all the details of the accident to the judge was one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to do. I didn’t have near enough distance from it at the time. Having to relive it was… excruciating. But I guess my obvious pain and suffering worked in our favor, because we won. Isn’t that an awful word to use? ‘Winning?’ I felt like I had lost everything when my mother died. Monetary compensation was almost a slap in the face. Like I was being rewarded for driving the person I loved most in the world into the path of an oncoming truck.”

“Bella,” Edward chastised me gently. “Don’t.”

I relented with a sigh. “Let’s just say that we received a very generous settlement from the city of Phoenix, and most of it went to me. I refused to touch it for years. But when I realized how hard it would be for a small-town cop like my dad to put me through college on his salary, I decided to use the settlement money for tuition. The rest of it is still sitting in some money market accounts, accruing interest.”

Edward searched my eyes, then studied our hands for a moment. “I think your mom would be glad that something good came out of your worst nightmare,” he said at last. “You know that wherever she is, she’s watching over you, and she’s got to be happy that you went to school and pursued your dream. She’d never begrudge you that.”

I gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded in acknowledgement. “You know what would really make her happy, though?”

“What’s that?”

“The fact that you gave me the strength to play the guitar again,” I told him, my smile growing. “I never did take those lessons, you know. Never made it to the biggest guitar shop in Phoenix, to learn from ‘the master,’ whoever he was. I couldn’t do it. I always hated myself for it, because I knew how much it would disappoint Mom that I let the accident keep me from pursuing something I loved; something she wanted for me so badly. But now I know why I couldn’t do it until now.” I squeezed Edward’s hands so tightly that the damp sweat of my palms became indistinguishable from his. “I was waiting for you.”

I watched as Edward’s features twisted with emotion, his eyes brimming with tears. I could see his struggle to keep them from falling.

“You give me too much credit,” he muttered hoarsely.

“You don’t give yourself enough,” I corrected him. “You don’t know how much you’ve helped me just by being here for me, listening to me, letting me tell my story. Letting me dump on you after I almost ran over your cat.” My attempt at levity fell short for both of us, but he gave me a half-hearted grin anyway, because that was his way. That was what he did for me, over and over.

“You know something? I just realized I lied to you again. And I’m not going to lie to you anymore, I swear to you.” His forehead creased in concern again at my words. I tried to stifle a smile as I continued. “I lied when I told you I only spent my settlement money on school. I actually spent some of it a couple of weeks ago, when I went shopping for the Black and Red Ball.”

His clouded eyes cleared as he figured out my meaning. “The dress?” he asked, giving me a subdued version of his patented crooked grin.

I nodded, my own grin spreading. “After I tried it on, I had to have it. I knew Mom would approve. I didn’t even look at the price tag. I just wanted to look beautiful for you.”

His expression hovered somewhere between exasperated and pleased. “You always look beautiful to me.”

I rolled my eyes slightly. “I’m sure I’m a real treat right now.” I cut off his imminent protest with, “I wanted to look especially beautiful that night. I wanted you to want me, the way I did you.”

“How could you not have known how much I wanted you? I think you did know,” he accused. “You just wanted to make me crazy. And you succeeded.”

“Yes, but you like it when I make you crazy,” I said, throwing one of his chief arguments back at him.

His grin was full-fledged this time. “I do like it.” He paused a moment, letting his eyes languidly sweep the length of my face. “I like you.”

I let out a laugh at that high school sentiment. I let go of his hands in favor of grasping his hair instead. “Really? I’m so glad, because I like you, too. I might even let you hold my hand behind the bleachers after the big game tomorrow night.”

“I don’t know. That’s a pretty big step there--bleacher action,” he teased, his arms snaking around me. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

I nodded and pressed my nose to his. “If you play your cards right, I might even let you kiss me.”

“Now you’re really flirting with danger. I might get the wrong idea and think you’re serious about me. I might ask you to go steady.”

“There you go with the commitment talk again. Freak,” I giggled into his mouth before I kissed him. I was glad for the return of our light banter, a welcome counterpoint to the heaviness our hearts had just shared. Our kisses were gentle, careful not to upset the delicate balance we were striking between past pain and present pleasure.

We made out like tentative teenagers for awhile, kissing and caressing and snuggling through our layers of clothes, content with the simple nearness of one another. We only stopped when Lucky came and jumped on our laps, nearly sending me through the roof with surprise at his stealth attack.

“Damn it, cat, stop scaring my girlfriend to death,” Edward scolded. I wondered if I would ever stop feeling giddy when he called me his girlfriend. He tried to give Lucky a swat, but I blocked him with a protective arm around the cat’s fluffy body.

“It’s not his fault I’m so jumpy,” I said, stroking Lucky’s soft fur.

“Just remember it’s not yours, either,” Edward reminded me. He chose to stroke me instead of Lucky; and, like the cat, I leaned my head into the warmth of his hand. “There’s one thing I need to say to you, Bella. Something you need to understand.”

That piqued my curiosity. “What’s that?”

His eyes were sober and piercing as he ran his thumb along my jaw. “As sorry as I am that you lost your mother that day, you need to know how grateful I am that Fate, or God, or whoever’s in charge of what goes on in this world, spared you. And how grateful I am that He sent you to me. So if you’re ever tempted to feel guilty for surviving when she didn’t… please, don’t. I love you and need you far too much for you to ever feel unworthy of still being alive.”

I stared at him, stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to me before, not even Charlie. Of course, Charlie is a man of few words; but when he speaks, he has an uncanny way of getting to the heart of the matter. Even so, I’d never heard a declaration like Edward had just made. Never had anyone spelled out in such stark, absolute terms what my existence, even in the absence of my mother’s, was worth.

His thumb reached up to catch the tear that rolled down my cheek at his words. I could think of nothing to say. At least, nothing as profound and moving as what he had just uttered. My tears spoke for me, falling unfettered in response to the emotions that flooded me. But the overwhelming feelings that caused the floodgates to open were so different this time: love and grateful adoration instead of guilt and self-recrimination.

“Edward,” was all I could sob as I threw my arms around him. He held me close in another emotional embrace, the scent of his neck a heady drug tempered only by the scratch of his beard stubble on my cheek.

Lucky, nonplussed at this display of affection that did not include him, padded up and down our legs, trying to soften us up, before plopping his body down in the vicinity of our laps. I couldn‘t help but laugh at his antics. I welcomed another bit of comic relief from the intensity of my emotions, even if they were good ones.

Even Edward was chuckling as he pulled away from me slightly. “Just like a little kid--you always have to be the center of attention, don’t you,” he admonished his pet. He gave Lucky a scratch or two behind the ears, then let his fingers comb through the thick orange fur of the animal’s back. The cat purred contentedly.

“That’s the sound I would make right now, if I could,” I told Edward.

He shot me a devilish grin. “I can make your pussy purr right now, if you’d like. I’ve done it before.”

“And I can make your cock crow,” I shot back. “What’s your point?”

Edward’s laugh was free and easy then. “I guess my point is that we sure have one happy barnyard going on here, for a third-story loft.”

I chuckled along with him for a moment. “I know I’m happy,” I told him.

He smiled at me, shaking his head slightly. “Considering where we started out this afternoon, I’d say that’s a very good place to be.”

I thought back to the faint dread I’d felt at Edward’s aloofness in the Java Noise lobby; then to the panic that had seized me at Rosalie’s confession. I frowned as I tried to imagine what had gone on between them while I was at lunch.

“Edward, what did Rosalie say to you earlier? How did she get you to come see her without telling me about it?”

Edward frowned as well and looked away. “She didn’t say much, really. She was very cryptic about why she wanted me to stop by. I just assumed it was about Jasper’s band; that maybe she wanted to find out more about them before she made a decision.”

He tried to keep his voice smooth and unruffled, but I detected a cool undercurrent--a cousin of the frosty tone he’d used with me earlier when he was trying to keep the truth from me. My eyes narrowed as I looked up at him.

“So what did she do when you got there? How did you know she’d found my memory stick with your music on it?” I questioned him.

He took a deep breath, his face a mask of discomfort. “She basically indicated that after hearing the rehearsal last night, she was hoping that I would be a more permanent part of Jasper’s band. When I denied having the kind of talent that would make me a desirable addition to Java Noise, she decided to play me a snippet of my own music, just to prove me wrong.”

My eyes were round with shock as I envisioned Rosalie’s surprise attack. Worse yet, I could just picture Edward’s response at hearing his own music fill the room, realizing that I must have been the one who had obtained it. I was horrified at the thought of how betrayed he must have felt. How he must have questioned my integrity and my loyalty, not to mention my love.

“Oh my God,” I murmured at last, feeling sick at my stomach. “I can’t believe she did that. I was always so careful not to leave any of your music lying around where she might come across it. I never dreamed she would dig in my desk drawers, though. I can’t believe she’d stoop so low. But I knew that once she heard you, she’d want you as a client. I’m not surprised she went after you. But I’m completely shocked at how she went about it. I’m so sorry, Edward.”

“Don’t apologize for her,” he said bitterly. “I can’t listen to you trying to take the rap for anyone else’s failings today.”

“But I have to take responsibility for my own,” I argued. “I recorded you the first night I saw you. I record everyone at open mic nights, but I rarely keep any of them for long. You were so different. I was shocked at how deeply you touched me. I tried to tell you that night, but you were so… abrupt with me. And then when you explained how distasteful you found the idea of selling your music, I couldn’t admit what I had just done. But I couldn’t stop doing it, either. I recorded you the next weekend, and again when the four of us went out together and you played with Jasper. You have to let me own up to my part in this, and apologize to you. I’m sorry, Edward.”

He sighed and stroked my cheek gently. “I don’t want to hear any more of your apologies today, Bella. No more blame. I performed in a public place, and a hundred people at every show could have sent a tape of me to your boss, or posted it on the internet. It doesn’t matter if Rosalie tries every trick in the book to get me on your label’s roster. All I have to do is say, ‘no.’” He smiled, then leaned in and gave me a soft kiss.

I looked up into his understanding eyes and knew without question that I was the luckiest girl on earth.

“Have I told you today that I love you, Edward?”

“Yes. But you can tell me again.”

And so I did. Several times, in fact, throughout the rest of the day and night. We barely moved from the couch. At one point, I dozed off with Lucky purring like a motorboat on my stomach. Edward ordered Chinese take-out, and we ate it from the sofa, wordlessly watching the evening news. We lounged in front of the TV afterwards, talking, not talking, zoning, snoozing. We couldn’t seem to muster the energy for anything more after our draining afternoon, and we headed for bed early.

Still, just to be sure we were on the same page, I demurely whispered a request to Edward as he began to undress me.

“Can you just hold me tonight?”

His half-grin was reassuring. “Of course,” was all he said.

Minutes later we lay in the center of his enormous bed, entwined from head to toe in Egyptian cotton and silken skin. The drumbeat of his heart was slow and steady under my ear, and I let its rhythm lull me. I was half-asleep when I vaguely heard his words.

“It means a lot to me that my music touched you so deeply,” he murmured. The sound was small; vulnerable. “I knew that you saw inside me that night. Saw the real me.”

I ran my hand reassuringly up and down his shoulder. “Did that scare you?”

His chest swelled with oxygen beneath me; its release stirred my hair. “Yes.”

I frowned sleepily, but didn’t raise my head from his chest. I didn’t want my eyes to demand too much from his. “Are you still afraid?”

He was quiet for a moment, but his heart had quickened. “A little,” he admitted.

It was my turn to sigh now. I couldn’t blame him. After all, look what it had taken for me to finally open up completely and reveal my deepest pain to him.

“Don’t be afraid,” I told him. “It’s not so bad, letting go. Not when you have someone to catch you.”

I felt him nod slightly, his chin gently bobbing against the top of my head. I prayed to God for the strength to be his safety net, his safe harbor, as he had been mine.

Encircled in his arms, I slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.