tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87723152087475667722024-03-12T19:24:15.341-05:00PattinspiredOh, the things my fascination with Robert Pattinson has made me do! Inspired me to write a Twi-fanfic
("Amnesia,") for one. You'll find it posted here, along with a new fic ("Massage Therapy") and a few other ramblings of my Robdiculous mind.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-37468469135780344962012-03-22T20:52:00.005-05:002012-03-22T21:17:31.905-05:00Cosmopolis Slays Me; The Guitar Revives MeToday has been verah, verah good to pattinspired! <br />
<br />
I woke up to the fan-fucking-tastic COSMOPOLIS teaser trailer--talk about starting my morning with a bang! I am still gobsmacked (Robsmacked!) over its complete and utter awesomeness. This alone got me through a trying morning at work:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pNgc8Ixv6Q8/T2vZEuMMxiI/AAAAAAAABWo/w4NfUHv8ubY/s1600/cosmopolis%2Bteaser%2B2_mp40125.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pNgc8Ixv6Q8/T2vZEuMMxiI/AAAAAAAABWo/w4NfUHv8ubY/s640/cosmopolis%2Bteaser%2B2_mp40125.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I mean holy mackerel (or something way yummier) on a cracker!<br />
<br />
I read the book awhile back, so I knew what a potential tour-de-force this would be for Rob. I knew just how depraved and sick and hot it could be. But I was still blown away by the trailer, and even more excited about the tons of positive feedback it's gotten all over the web. Now the rest of the world will get what we Rob fans have known all along: the boy has much more than just good looks and screen charisma; he has TALENT. He has all that stuff that can't be learned or bought. Whatever "it" is, he has it in spades. And I cannot WAIT for the rest of the world to be forced to admit it, too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0HSDmYE6ulE/T2vcP6HJL2I/AAAAAAAABW0/hmJgY3kul2k/s1600/cosmopolis%2Bteaser%2B2_mp40144.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0HSDmYE6ulE/T2vcP6HJL2I/AAAAAAAABW0/hmJgY3kul2k/s640/cosmopolis%2Bteaser%2B2_mp40144.png" width="640" /></a></div><i> <strong> KA-POW! Take that, doubters!</strong></i><br />
<br />
As if that weren't excitement enough for one day, I came home from work to find out that my first-ever one-shot won "Best Romance" out of 96 entries in the Truly Anonymous Twilight Fanfic One-Shot Picture and Prompt Contest. (Say that five times fast! Or just once, for that matter.) I was doing insane-looking Snoopy/Balki Dances of Joy all over my living room. Yeah--I'm that big a dork. No shame.<br />
<br />
Big thanks to all the hosts and judges, the readers and voters, who participated. You all ROCK! And special thanks to Famouslyso for this very kick-ass banner!<br />
<br />
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So, without further ado, my little story. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
****************************************************<br />
<br />
Edward Cullen’s guitar is almost as long as her legs.<br />
<br />
Bella sits atop the mangled covers of her bed, back against the headboard, blue-jean-covered legs stretched out in two long lines before her. The guitar lies next to her, the headstock near her thigh, the body next to her calves. The guitar and her legs are in perfect alignment. <br />
<br />
<i>“A perfect fit,” he sighed into her ear as he pushed deeper inside her. The sigh turned into more of a groan, stifling her own noises of pleasure and pain and release as he filled her. It had been too long. But this . . . this was worth waiting for. He reminded her what she’d been waiting for all this time.</i><br />
<br />
A tiny grin pulls at the corners of her mouth at the recollection. Did last night really happen? She reaches out and gingerly strokes the neck of the guitar. It is proof that the events of the evening before were, indeed, real. <br />
<br />
Damn. What had she been thinking? Or more to the point, how much had she been drinking? Picking up strangers in bars wasn’t her style. She’d never been that reckless or free. Sure, she always had a weakness for guitar players. But Edward was the first one who’d made her bold enough to do something about it.<br />
<br />
She considers why she found him so different from the guys in other local bands. He was more than just a great guitarist on that stage last night. He was an artist, in the truest sense of the word. The way he delivered each song was nothing short of spell-binding. His passion overtook him completely, stiffening his body, roughening his vocal chords as he growled and howled and crooned and whispered the words that distilled the emotions behind them.<br />
<br />
He was mesmerizing to her. She was dazzled by his soul, laid bare on that stage.<br />
<br />
<i>“Of course you’re drawn to him. He’s hot!”</i><br />
<br />
Leave it to Jess to put it so eloquently, she thinks back with a grimace.<br />
<br />
<i>“That’s not it. He’s got a lot more going on than that.”<br />
<br />
“Fine, whatever. You should go for it. You look hot tonight. You’ve got your lucky jeans on. How do you get those things on, anyway? With a set of pliers?”<br />
<br />
“They’re stretch jeans, idiot.”</i><br />
<br />
She looks at them now, snugly encasing her slender legs. Edward had no problem removing them last night. She’d never felt so free as when his gorgeous hands effortlessly undid the button and zipper, then pulled down, down, down until her legs were bared. They opened for him easily, like they’d been waiting a lifetime for him. They possessed him all night long, tangling with his, wrapping around his torso, cradling his neck when he . . . <br />
<br />
She blushes even though there is no one here to pass judgment. Edward’s guitar was the only witness throughout the long, sheet-twisting night. <br />
<br />
She speaks to it now.<br />
<br />
“Are you jealous?” She smiles and plucks absently at its strings. “He made me sing last night after he was through with you.” <br />
<br />
He played her with the same conviction and authority, coaxing the very best from her, of that she is sure. No one had ever made her come alive that way. She felt like a work of art in his skilled hands. A lump of clay made into something more than it had any notion it could be . . . something beautiful. <br />
<br />
<i>“So beautiful,” he murmured, letting go of her hand and reaching for her face instead. His thumb stroked her jaw, sending inexplicable currents all the way down to the unlikely destination of her toes. The city lights tinted his face varying shades of red, yellow, blue and violet as the cab drove them toward her studio apartment. <br />
<br />
She knew her own face must be some embarrassing shade of scarlet. She wasn’t used to compliments, and certainly not from the likes of him. She wondered again whether or not to believe him. She wanted to. It suited her purposes to believe he was sincere. <br />
<br />
His eyes were dead earnest. Wide-set pools stared at her like twin seas, inviting her to dive in. She knew there was no putting one toe in the water. She was teetering on the edge of the board with only one way to go.<br />
<br />
She touched her fingers to the masculine hand that cradled her face. She brushed them along the light hairs near Edward’s wrist, then slid them between his fingers. He released her chin and took her hand in his once more, lacing his long fingers through hers and squeezing until the warmth of his palm became her own. <br />
<br />
She heard the sound of her address invading the air between them. The cabbie was reciting the street name and number as he pulled up and parked in front of her building. Her eyes met Edward’s again; her toes gripped the edge of the diving board. His grin hovered between bashful and arrogantly expectant. <br />
<br />
She took a deep breath and jumped.<br />
<br />
“Let’s go in,” she invited him.</i><br />
<br />
Her smile grows as she gazes at the guitar. He played it for her, a private show, after they made love for the first time. She’d plied him with his favorite beer; a happy coincidence - or fate? - that she already had some in the fridge. Her gaze shifts now to the two empty green bottles on her nightstand, their faint sour smell tickling her nose and refreshing her memory.<br />
<br />
<i>“Heineken,” she shouted to the bartender over the noisy crowd.<br />
<br />
“Make it two.” <br />
<br />
She turned to see the owner of the smooth-as-silk baritone behind her, then nearly jumped out of her own skin. There he was, her guitar demigod, in all his sweaty post-gig splendor. A sheen of moisture bathed his face and dewed the bramble of stubble covering his jaw and neck. The patrons swarming the bar jostled him into her and the dampness of his t-shirt pressed against her bare arm.<br />
<br />
She should have been grossed out by his sweat. The unwelcome sensation of being coated in second-hand perspiration normally would have sent her shuddering. But as he smiled apologetically down at her, his lips curling into a disarmingly crooked grin, he was instantly absolved. Moreover, he, and his sweat, were welcomed.<br />
<br />
He stood a head taller than she did, and when the bartender held their beers aloft, the guitarist easily reached over the packed crowd to retrieve them. He handed her one bottle, then clinked his own briefly against hers.<br />
<br />
“Cheers,” he said.<br />
<br />
“What are we toasting to?” she asked.<br />
<br />
“Anything,” he said with that bewitching half-grin. “Everything.”<br />
<br />
“Well, that leaves it wide open,” she replied with the quirk of one brow.<br />
<br />
“That’s the idea,” he answered, his smile deepening.<br />
<br />
She shook her head and took a swig, then watched him do the same. His lips looked positively delicious wrapped around the mouth of the beer bottle. His grin returned the minute he finished swallowing.<br />
<br />
“You want to go sit somewhere?” he asked.<br />
<br />
She stared blankly at him for a moment. It was definitely too good to be true that he wanted to spend some time with her. Maybe she wasn’t as sly as she thought and he’d noticed her gaping at him like a beached guppy all night long. Maybe he figured she was an easy target. And tonight, she had to admit, he might be right.<br />
<br />
“There’s nowhere to sit,” she lamented. “This place is packed.”<br />
<br />
He appeared unfazed. “Follow me.”<br />
<br />
She did as he said, and soon found herself winding through the tiny backstage area and out the back door. They emerged onto an enclosed patio that she never even knew existed. Looking around, she saw other members of his band and what appeared to be their crew, occupying most of the tables and chairs.<br />
<br />
“Nice,” she said, realizing that this was a little VIP area of sorts. Strings of tree lights decorated the shrub-lined latticework fence and gave off an ambient light, while the moon lent its pale blue rays from above.<br />
<br />
He led her to a small bench in one corner and waited until she sat down before he joined her. He reached into the pocket of his well-worn jeans and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes with a lighter shoved under the plastic wrapper.<br />
<br />
“Mind if I smoke?” he asked.<br />
<br />
Deal-breaker, her mind screamed. Complete and total effing deal-breaker.<br />
<br />
“No, go ahead,” she heard herself say.<br />
</i><br />
She peers more closely at the empty Heineken bottles on her nightstand. There is a cigarette butt in the bottom of one. Other butts litter the “I Heart Seattle” collector coaster that doubled as Edward’s ashtray last night. The room stinks of stale smoke, beer, sweat and sex. She leans over and inhales from the pillow he slept on all night. How can it smell so bad and so unbelievably good at the same time? Stupid, smelly, gorgeous guitar player. <br />
<br />
She dreads the dissipation of his scent.<br />
<br />
<i>“I should shower first,” he mumbled between urgent kisses as he backed her across the room toward her bed. <br />
<br />
“I don’t care,” she gasped into his mouth. <br />
<br />
“But I was so sweaty from the gig. I must reek.”<br />
<br />
“Shut up,” she ordered. Kiss, step backward. Kiss, step backward. “You’re just going to get sweaty again. We’ll shower later.” Kiss, step, kiss, step, stop. The backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed.<br />
<br />
“Fuck. I like how you think, Ms. Swan.” He grinned and gave her a push, and down she went.<br />
</i><br />
They did shower, much later. But they were too tired to put clean sheets on the bed, so they shook out the covers, flipped over the pillows and curled together into one clean-skinned, damp-haired entity to go to sleep. <br />
<br />
Bella’s memory of their pillow talk is fuzzy, convoluted by the residue of alcohol and hormones. She knows he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be a web designer or a rock star when he grew up. Problem was, he was already grown. She told him she wanted to write novels but wrote bylines instead. They each encouraged the other to go for the big dreams while they kept the small ones simmering on the burner. The small ones paid the bills, for now.<br />
<br />
Their conversation was a continuation of the one they’d begun earlier last evening, in their patio corner with its tree lights creating a halo around Edward’s unruly hair. He and Bella had exchanged names, then philosophies. He’d thoughtfully blown his cigarette smoke away from her during their discussions of life and art and self-expression. <br />
<br />
She remembers the intense passion emanating from him; she could almost see it, like a palpable aura around him. He’d infused her with it, and she had begun to speak of her own passions. How she wanted to write Great Novels, but was waiting for Great Things to happen in her life so she’d have something to write about.<br />
<br />
Edward’s eyes had twinkled like the lights decorating the fence behind him, and he’d given her that delectable lop-sided grin. A knowing look had passed between them. <br />
<br />
He would give her Great Things to write about.<br />
<br />
<i>“Why me?” she asked during a brief lull in their conversation. It came out almost tentative, a whisper.<br />
<br />
He reached out one calloused, nimble guitarist’s hand and touched the side of her face, then fingered a few strands of her dark hair. She was mesmerized by the depth of his blue-green eyes, fathomless under the night sky as he gazed at her for a prolonged moment. He seemed confused by her question.<br />
<br />
“You’re the only one I saw tonight,” he said softly, matter-of-factly. <br />
<br />
She let out a surprised laugh at his answer. There were dozens of girls in the bar, most of them smitten with his looks and talent. Her brow furrowed in bafflement.<br />
<br />
He sighed and frowned, then tried again. “You’re the only one I wanted to bring back here,” he clarified. “The one I wanted to know better.”<br />
<br />
She shook her head, still perplexed. “But what made you feel that way?” What is it about me, when you could have had any of those drooling girls out there? she wanted to ask. <br />
<br />
His hand continued to work its magic behind her ear, sending tingles to much more private places.<br />
<br />
“I could see how the music affected you,” he said, his voice as smooth as a shot of Black Velvet, and giving her the same warm sensation in her belly. “You don’t feel it here,” he asserted, tapping his index finger lightly on her temple. Then he moved the magic fingers lightly over the thin cotton knit of her shirt, bringing them to rest over her heart.<br />
<br />
“You feel it here.”<br />
<br />
Bella wondered if he could feel her heart betraying her, pounding against the prison of her ribcage, trying to get closer to his magic. She was beginning to feel swallowed in his gaze, and fought to keep her head above the surface. Flailing, she grasped for something familiar to save herself.<br />
<br />
“Does that line work on all the other girls?” she said with a sharp, sardonic laugh. <br />
<br />
Edward’s eyebrows shot together in what appeared to be wounded surprise, and his hand dropped quickly to his lap. Bella immediately regretted giving in to sarcasm-coated insecurity. But she was more afraid of giving in to him. She needed his honesty too badly not to test it first.<br />
<br />
He masked his hurt with a cautious half-smile. “I don’t know. You’re the only one I’ve tried it on. Whether or not it works remains to be seen.”<br />
<br />
She looked up at him with repentant eyes. “I think the odds are in your favor. As lines go, that was a pretty good one.”<br />
<br />
The crooked grin she was already half in love with reappeared. “Well, I thought so,” he said with a wink before taking a swig of beer.<br />
<br />
After that little hiccup, their dialogue went back to the easy flow it had enjoyed before, with very few ebbs. It was the kind of conversation that was oblivious to constraints of time and place, taking its participants on a journey they’d never expected. An engrossed Bella and Edward were surprised when the bouncer invaded their new little world and made them return to the old one. <br />
<br />
The bar was closing. Edward’s band-mates had already slipped away, unnoticed, to pack up their gear. He reluctantly told her he needed to join them.<br />
<br />
“But I’d rather finish our discussion instead,” he said wistfully, hopefully, as he stood and offered her his hand.<br />
<br />
She took it and allowed him to help her up. Her hand felt small and protected in his. She was surprised at how much she liked the feeling. She looked up into the lure of his sea-colored eyes and decided to take the bait.<br />
<br />
“We could finish it at my place when you’re done,” she suggested, in a hopeful tone of her own. <br />
</i><br />
<i>He looked like he was trying very hard to keep his smile contained to its ubiquitous half-grin instead of letting it break free across his face. But his eyes crinkled up into happy slits as he quietly said, “I’d like that.”</i><br />
<br />
She can feel her own eyes crinkling now just thinking about it. About him, and how adorable he is. And sexy. And smart and talented and easy to talk to, not to mention amazing in bed. He’s so many irresistible things that he makes her head spin and her heart drop. She hates him a little because she is afraid she might be in love with him. No one should be able to fall in love in twenty-four hours. That’s impossible. <br />
<br />
She blames the pheromones. They were raging all night long, every time she rolled over and into his arms. He would smile in his sleep and pull her closer until his skin and hair and heat and breath were indistinguishable from her own. <br />
<br />
She slept very little last night. She was too preoccupied with watching him, listening to him, feeling him next to her. He was beautiful. He was by far the most beautiful man she’d ever had in her bed, though there had been admittedly few predecessors. Edward possessed that aching sort of beauty that poets attempt in vain to describe.<br />
<br />
She tried counting his freckles and moles to fall asleep, but they were far more interesting than sheep, and not nearly as calming. So she tried counting his eyelashes instead, but there were too many. She finally was forced to close her eyes and try to ignore him, which was the ultimate exercise in futility. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of him all evening, and the urge had only grown stronger as the night went on.<br />
<br />
She didn’t remember falling asleep. But the next thing she knew, she heard a soft humming close to her. A humming, and a strumming. A luxurious thrill rippled through her sleepy form when she realized what it was. She opened one eye, squinting against the sunlight that had forced its way in around her window shade. And there sat her guitar god, in all his morning glory, playing and singing softly to himself.<br />
<br />
<i>No, he’s singing to me,</i> she realized.<br />
<br />
“Please don’t wake me, no, don’t shake me, leave me as I am - I’m only sleeping,” he sang, before giving her a grin at the end of it. <br />
<br />
“The Beatles,” she mumbled, grinning back. “Classic.”<br />
<br />
“Always,” he agreed. Then he put the guitar aside and turned his attentions to her instead. He played her softly, gently, sensuously this time. Their melody was tender and sweet on this sunny Sunday morning, but the climax of today’s song was every bit as passionate as the one from last night’s turbulent symphony. <br />
<br />
If this is how Edward Cullen treats all his conquests the morning after, she fears she will never tire of being played.<br />
<br />
<i>The traffic sounds were muffled under the hum of the taxi’s motor. He must have felt her eyes on him, for he turned to catch her stare and return it.<br />
<br />
“I meant what I said earlier,” he told her. His voice was low, hypnotic.<br />
<br />
“About what?” She knew what, but she needed to hear him say the words.<br />
<br />
“Why you. This.” His head nodded slightly to the kaleidoscope of neon lights refracting through the window as they zoomed toward their destination. His fingers found hers on the car seat between them and staked their claim.<br />
<br />
“I know,” she whispered, trying to locate her tongue. “I’m sorry about the crack I made. Nerves, I guess.” She paused and searched his face; she found the bravery she needed there. “I’ve never really done this before. With someone I just met,” she added. <br />
<br />
One-night stand, her mind echoed. She winced at the thought. She already knew one night with him would never be enough.<br />
<br />
His expression was sober. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I don’t do this very often, either.” His fingers tightened around hers.<br />
<br />
“Should I?” she asked skeptically.<br />
<br />
“You should, actually.”<br />
<br />
“Hmm.” She considered that for a moment. “I’m sure that can’t be due to a lack of offers.”<br />
<br />
His smirk waffled between cocky and embarrassed. “Let’s just say I don’t find many of them as tempting as yours.”<br />
<br />
It was her turn for the embarrassed grin. Her fingers squeezed back. She wondered how the scenery could pass in a blur when the cab was moving at such a snail’s pace. <br />
<br />
Nervousness soon replaced her impatience when they reached her apartment. Her trembling fingers fumbled for her keys as she braced herself for him to see her tiny two-room studio. It was only a step up from her recent college dorm days, but it was all hers, and that was a first. No roommates to cater to or clean up after; no one to interrupt her evening with the glorious man about to grace the place with his presence.<br />
</i><br />
She looks around the room now, trying to see it through his eyes, the way he seemed to view it when he entered. She was embarrassed by its decidedly shabby-chic appearance, but he appeared enthralled as he studied the music posters and art that camouflaged its dingy walls. He commented on their similar taste in music, which they had discussed at the bar, and was now confirmed by her decor. But when she pointed out the works of art that were her own creations, he looked almost . . . awed. <br />
<br />
<i>“These are amazing,” he enthused as he studied her watercolor series of the bay. He told her she should pursue that talent along with her writing. He even suggested that she could illustrate her own books; maybe children’s books, since the market seemed to be ever hungry for new work.<br />
<br />
She didn’t know what to say. No one had ever encouraged her the way he did, to think big and go for it. He lived that way himself, it seemed. Fearless. <br />
<br />
She felt her own fear melt away when he turned to look at her, a new kind of wonder in his eyes now that he had seen what she was capable of. She felt like maybe she was on even footing with him now - that perhaps she had touched him with her art the way he’d touched her with his. <br />
<br />
The connection pulled them toward each other, and her heart began to thud erratically in her chest as he drew closer. This was it . . . the moment she’d been waiting for all night. <br />
<br />
Maybe all her life.<br />
<br />
His fingers reached her face before his lips did, gently caressing, unleashing shivers that washed over her skin in waves. He said nothing. He let his eyes do the talking instead, sweeping over her features, studying her, asking her, telling her. <br />
<br />
His lashes fell, and there were no more unsaid words. Only sensation now. Soft against soft, wet against wet. Warmth turning to heat, craving to hunger, want to need. <br />
<br />
Insatiable. <br />
</i><br />
She yearns for him now, still, even after the way he awakened her this morning. A melancholy settles in her bones as she gingerly strokes the glossy wood of the vintage guitar.<br />
<br />
“I envy you,” she whispers to it. “The special place you’ll always have in his heart. The love and affection he gives you. The emotion he pours into you. I know how good it feels now. I could get used to it.”<br />
<br />
She runs the tip of her index finger inside the edge of the sound hole, then strums each string, one at a time. She allows each note to reverberate in the air before sounding the next. She remembers the way he handled the instrument last night, from gentle, almost reverent strokes to relentless, rhythmic pounding.<br />
<br />
<i>“God, I can’t hold back with you,” he rasped into her ear as he plunged deep inside her.<br />
<br />
“Then don’t,” she gasped, clutching him more tightly to her and lifting her hips to meet his. <br />
<br />
He answered with only grunts as he picked up the pace, grinding into her with the full force of his body, pulling out almost completely before filling her again. Over and over, deeper and deeper … harder, faster, ruthless, relentless … ramming, slamming, rutting, fucking. There was nothing but Edward now. Over her, around her, inside her. His eyes, his breath, his body, merging with hers, taking control. Making her cry out in helpless ecstasy.<br />
<br />
Making her sing.<br />
<br />
He let out a haunting melody of his own when he came inside her, a crescendo of desire leaving his lungs in a stunning release. She was bathed in his breath, his sweat and his passion. She drank every bit of it deep into her pores like a thirsty sponge, yet still craved more. She clutched his damp hair in her fingers and his pumping torso between her thighs; then she hung on for dear life as long as she could. <br />
</i><br />
She wraps her fingers gingerly around the neck of the guitar and lifts it up, bringing the instrument to her lap. She puts her left fingers to the frets and her right fingers to the strings, over the sound hole. She gives it a tentative strum; the discordant jangle makes her wince. <br />
<br />
“I wish I knew how to play you,” she says with a sigh. “To make you into something better than you are right now. Your master knows how to do that. With those magic fingers of his . . .”<br />
<br />
She tries configuring her own fingertips on the frets in a way that will make a harmonic sound come from the guitar. Instead, more dissonance meets her disappointed ears.<br />
<br />
“I guess you need him as much as I do, don’t you?” she muses. She tries again, and this time, something akin to music rings through the air. She smiles at her small triumph and plays the makeshift chord again. <br />
<br />
“It’s not hopeless, then, is it?” she says to her new stringed friend. “Anything’s possible. Now, maybe you can tell me how to make him need me as much as he needs you.”<br />
<br />
Her fingers take a stab at forming another chord, but fail this time. <br />
<br />
“Wrong answer,” she grumbles. “That’s okay, I won’t give up,” she adds with determination, and maybe a little false bravado. She knows how much this instrument means to Edward; how much more it is than just a wooden box with strings. It is infinitely more than the sum of its parts.<br />
<br />
She wants to be that to him.<br />
<br />
<i>They sat facing each other, wrapped in the sheets on her double bed, their half-drunk beers and one smoldering cigarette nearby on her nightstand.<br />
<br />
“So why this guitar? You let the guys take your others in the van,” she commented after he’d played a beautiful song for her. She hadn’t recognized the tune; he told her he wrote it. She was even more impressed than before, which she hadn’t thought possible. <br />
<br />
“This old girl?” he answered, running his hand affectionately up and down the neck of the guitar. “She goes everywhere with me. I don’t let her out of my sight for long.” <br />
<br />
His expression sobered slightly as he continued. “She was my dad’s. He taught me everything he knew on this beat up old J-45. He always said if it was good enough for Bob Dylan, it was good enough for him.” He let out a laugh at the memory. “It’s still my favorite. I love the tone. I always seem to be able to coax whatever emotion I’m looking for out of her.”<br />
<br />
He grinned again and played idly with the strings. Bella tried to take a mental snapshot of how gorgeous he looked, moonlight streaming through the window across his contented face. She never wanted to forget this moment. She was seized with the sudden fear that it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.<br />
<br />
“I’ll bet it was hard for your dad to give it up,” she said of the guitar, as she watched Edward’s fingers fly over the frets.<br />
<br />
His smile faded. “It was hard for him to give up a lot of things. And even harder for me to give him up when the cancer took him.”<br />
<br />
Bella cringed at her gaffe. “I’m sorry,” she said, in all sincerity. She reached out a tentative hand to touch his face, wondering why she felt timid after the jaw-dropping sex they had just had. Maybe it was because his sharing something about his family felt just as intimate. She had let him into her home, and then her body; he repaid her by giving her a glimpse into his soul. <br />
<br />
Edward’s eyes closed for a moment when her fingers stroked the rough stubble of his jaw. He inclined his head toward her hand, ever so slightly, and the earth moved beneath her just as violently as it had when he had thrust deep inside her moments ago. She marveled at how easily he could affect her.<br />
<br />
“Your father would have been so proud of you tonight if he had been there,” she told him.<br />
<br />
His eyes opened and he managed a wan smile at her. <br />
<br />
“He was there,” he said.<br />
<br />
Bella’s fingers drifted back to ruffle the hair over his ear. She must have looked a little puzzled, because he suddenly laughed and said, “Does that sound crazy? I just mean that I felt his presence there. I always do, when I’m onstage. I feel his spirit.”<br />
<br />
“That’s not crazy,” she assured him. “It’s sort of beautiful, actually.”<br />
<br />
“You’re sort of beautiful,” he replied, giving her that crinkle-eyed grin again.<br />
<br />
She blushed. “Now you’re talking crazy.”<br />
<br />
“You’re the crazy one if you don’t see it,” he insisted. He drifted closer; she leaned in. Their kiss was slow and soft. Respectful. His hand sought her face and cradled it gently; his eyes enveloped hers. She floated euphorically in the reflection of those warm, blue-green seas. <br />
<br />
“I see it now,” she whispered.<br />
<br />
“That’s good,” he replied, his thumb tracing her lips before he kissed her lightly again. “Now, Beautiful, how about that shower?” he suggested with a smile.<br />
<br />
She had no argument this time, and happily joined him in the water.</i><br />
<br />
The squeak of ancient door hinges signals Edward’s return, jarring her from her reverie. She had given him the keys to her apartment so he could go get them coffee and breakfast. She offered to make him something, but he insisted that he wanted to treat her, so she let him. She didn’t hesitate to trust him with the keys to her place. After all, he was leaving his most cherished possession with her in return.<br />
<br />
She shoots him a deer-in-the-headlights look at first, not sure how he’ll feel about her touching his hallowed J-45. But a relieved smile soon spreads across her face to match the happy one he wears as he walks into the room. He’s carrying a take-out tray in one arm while he closes the door behind him with the other. He makes a beeline straight for her.<br />
<br />
“Did you take good care of my girl while I was gone?” he asks as he sits down on the bed, balancing the tray loaded with coffee and pastries on his thigh. <br />
<br />
“Yeah, of course,” she assures him, setting the guitar carefully back down beside her.<br />
<br />
Edward picks up one of the lidded paper cups and hands it to her. Her sheepish gaze meets his amused one.<br />
<br />
“Bella,” he chides, flashing his crooked grin. “I was talking to the guitar.”<br />
<br />
Her eyes widen in surprise, then crinkle with her own irrepressible grin as she apprehends his meaning.<br />
<br />
“Music to my ears,” she murmurs, leaning over the tray and pressing her lips to his. He chuckles softly and kisses her back.<br />
<br />
<i>Sorry, old girl,</i> she thinks as she gives the guitar a sidelong glance. <br />
<br />
<i>There’s a new girl in town.</i>Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-318751302225338822012-02-10T21:55:00.010-06:002012-02-11T10:43:01.137-06:00The little voices still talk to me sometimes. I wrote them down this time - a fun little Valentine.<br />
<br />
Edward = non-italic; Bella = italic<br />
<br />
<b>The Diary of Bella and Edward<br />
<i>February 14</i><br />
</b><br />
<b>6:45 a.m.</b><br />
I can’t believe you’re making breakfast for me. Granted, it is Valentine’s Day, and I did wake you early again with my amorous urges. I couldn’t help it - must be the day. Or maybe it’s just you. <br />
<br />
Did you know your ass shakes in a really sexy way when you whisk eggs?<br />
<br />
Yeah, it’s just you. But Valentine’s Day gives me a perfect excuse for fucking you awake today. Again.<br />
<br />
God, you look so stinking cute with your hair going in twenty directions. I love doing that to you, of which you’re well aware. But you have to admit, that position is the best. So deep . . . so good. And you’re so surprisingly bendy that I can’t help but push you to your limits. I know you’ll push back if I go too far.<br />
<br />
I live for it, in fact.<br />
<br />
Wow - am I seeing heart-shaped pancakes on that griddle? You’re amazing. Damn, I’m feeling inspired now.<br />
<br />
A Valentine Poem for my Beloved Bella:<br />
<br />
Roses are red,<br />
Violets are blue.<br />
You have frightful bed-head,<br />
But I still love you.<br />
<br />
Your pancakes are rockin’,<br />
Your eggs are divine.<br />
But as for the sausage,<br />
I'll just give you mine.<br />
<br />
Sheer poetry, that. I’d write more but you’ve just informed me that breakfast is served.<br />
It smells fantastic. If I forget to tell you later, it was delicious.<br />
<br />
XOXO<br />
Edward<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Oh, that’s it, Cullen. You did this to my hair, so you’d better damned will like it, especially after I made you a nice, hot breakfast. And it was delicious, if I do say so myself; so thanks for the compliment. <br />
<br />
Regardless, you’d better prepare yourself. My retaliation may not be swift, but that’s only because I haven’t had enough coffee yet. Rest assured that my phone and I will be sending a poetic rebuttal after I get to work.<br />
<br />
P.S. I’m only bendy in the morning because I’m not awake enough to stop you from turning me into a pretzel. But yeah . . . that thing you do, the way you do it . . . that’s always good.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Better than good. There are no words for it, really. I seem to remember you being speechless as well.<br />
<br />
I look forward to your hair-raising rebuttal. I’ll be sure to set my text alert on vibrate. *grin* <br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>Texts</i><br />
<br />
8:45 a.m.</b><br />
<i>Okay, early riser (emphasis on that last word.) I’m armed with a pot of coffee and a light work load. Let the poetic sexting begin.<br />
<br />
I have a boyfriend named Ed<br />
Who won’t let me get out of bed.<br />
My hair is a fright<br />
‘Cause he fucks me all night<br />
With zero regard for my head.</i><br />
<br />
<b>8:56 a.m.</b><br />
You say that like it’s a bad thing. <br />
<br />
Dirty limericks, eh? My favorite kind. By all means, do keep them up. *snicker*<br />
<br />
I shall endeavor to add another stanza to my poem from this morning. How’s this:<br />
<br />
With lips so pink <br />
And skin so fair,<br />
Your face nearly trumps<br />
Your hot derriere.<br />
<br />
Sorry, baby. But your ass is slammin’. I’d rhyme on that but Prince already beat me to it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>9:21 a.m.</b><br />
<i>Prince actually said “Your body’s slammin.’” Not just “ass.” Although, considering his next line about ramming, he was probably thinking it.</i><br />
<br />
<i>My boyfriend is almost as crude<br />
As an animal in the zoo.<br />
He thinks his big trunk<br />
Is the best piece of junk<br />
To ever come near my wazoo.<br />
<br />
Yes, he’s impossibly lewd<br />
And sometimes he’s downright rude,<br />
But he does me so right--<br />
Makes me come every night--<br />
That with him, sex is better than food.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Well, hello there, Edward, Junior. I can feel you winking up at me from all the way across town. You’ve got a long day ahead of you. LONG.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>9:53 a.m.</b><br />
Trying to wake the beast at 10 a.m., eh? Nice. Well, two can play that game.<br />
<br />
My Bella, you’re sweet<br />
Like nectar and honey.<br />
You give such good head,<br />
I should pay you money.<br />
<br />
But that’s not why <br />
I love you so.<br />
You’re so much more<br />
Than an amazing blow.<br />
<br />
Your heart is pure,<br />
Your love is strong;<br />
You satisfy more<br />
Than just my schlong.<br />
<br />
You challenge me<br />
And make me think,<br />
And only occasionally<br />
Drive me to drink.<br />
<br />
I crave you<br />
Morning, noon and night.<br />
Your vanilla skin<br />
Screams “Take a bite.”<br />
<br />
You smell so delicious,<br />
Nothing can compare<br />
To the tasty treat <br />
‘Neath your underwear.<br />
<br />
Beware, my pretty, <br />
When the workday is done,<br />
I’ll bury my face <br />
‘Twixt your legs ’til you come.<br />
<br />
“Wazoo?” Is that the shy little orifice hiding behind your hoo-ha? I’m quite fond of that one, as I am all your orifices.<br />
<br />
Damn. This is not helping my situation with Junior whatsoever.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>10:15 a.m.</b><br />
<i>“Beast,” eh? Junior does think highly of himself. And he definitely just proved the point of my last set of limericks.<br />
<br />
When it comes to you, Edward Cullen,<br />
It’s hard for me to stay sullen.<br />
You’re sexy and silly<br />
And have such a big willy,<br />
That head over heels I’ve fallen.<br />
</i><br />
<i>I think it’s a pretty safe bet<br />
That you’ve made my panties all wet.<br />
You’d better come find me,<br />
Bend me over and grind me<br />
While I’m as horny as I’ll ever get.<br />
<br />
*grin*</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>10:52 a.m.</b><br />
Fuck. Me.<br />
<br />
I really must know--<br />
What time do you eat?<br />
I’m dying to give you<br />
A Valentine treat.<br />
<br />
I think we both know<br />
What we’re hungry for.<br />
If love be our food,<br />
I’ll always need more.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>10:56 a.m.</b><br />
<i>You say the most beautiful things<br />
To make up for all your teasing.<br />
I forget to be mad,<br />
I just want you bad,<br />
So meet me at noon for a fling.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>10:59 a.m.</b><br />
There’s no privacy there,<br />
So I’ll make the way clear<br />
For you to leave Java Noise<br />
And “come” over here.<br />
;-)<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>11:10 a.m.</b><br />
<i>If I’d known you wanted a nooner,<br />
I would have texted you sooner.<br />
I just hope my boss<br />
Doesn’t get too cross--<br />
Oh wait, it’s just Rose, so screw her!</i> <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>11:50 a.m. </b><br />
<i>Hip-hip, hooray!<br />
I’m on my way<br />
To mount that willy<br />
And hump it silly.<br />
See you in ten<br />
To make you come again.<br />
And again . . .<br />
And . . . yeah.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>12:05 p.m.</b><br />
Fuck. Me. <br />
<br />
(I meant that the first time I texted it and I still do.)<br />
<br />
I hear the front door--<br />
I’m ready for more.<br />
To hell with this phone,<br />
Now I’ve got you alone . . . <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>12:59 p.m.</b><br />
Now <i>that</i> was poetry. Poetry in motion. Wish I had time for a cigarette. Wish you didn’t have to leave so soon. But I love the view while you walk away, as long as I know you’ll be back.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1:20 p.m. </b><br />
<i>I’ll always be back for more of <i>that</i> motion. I’m all out of rhymes. Or words of any kind, really. I need a ciggie too, and that’s saying something.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1:53 p.m. </b><br />
Speechless is good. I’ll join you.<br />
<br />
It’s a good thing I made dinner reservations at the Club tonight. I have the feeling we’ll be starving by then.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1:55 p.m.</b><br />
<i>You sure that’s where you want to go? We don’t have to go back to that place.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1:57 p.m.</b> <br />
No, I’m sure. I never let Donnelly keep me out before, so I’m not about to start now. I have some great memories there. Tonight, we’ll make a new one.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1:59 p.m.</b><br />
<i>Sounds like a plan. See you tonight. Love you. So much.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>2:00 p.m. </b><br />
Back atcha, Beautiful.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>The Diary of Bella and Edward<br />
<i>February 14 (cont’d.)</i><br />
</b><br />
<b>11:37 p.m.</b><br />
Can’t sleep. Can’t shut off my brain. Thinking . . . Wondering.<br />
<br />
You really thought that jewelry box contained a ring, didn’t you? <br />
<br />
You’re right, maybe I did that on purpose. Maybe it was a test. But in my defense, you’ve mentioned at least a couple of times that you wished you had real diamonds for your second ear-piercings. And you know how much I love filling your . . . never mind.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the fact that the earrings came in that little velvet box with the rounded corners was merely a coincidence.<br />
<br />
Okay, it’s true, I wanted to see your reaction. Your <i>real</i> reaction, when I put you on the spot. So I’d know how nervous you really are at the idea of the “M” word.<br />
<br />
We dance around the subject constantly, every time we talk about moving in together. I, for one, can’t wait until your lease runs out in May. We’re together most of the time anyway, so I doubt it’ll be much different than the way we’re already living. I already think of everything I own as yours, too.<br />
<br />
I’m all in, Bella. All the way. You, me, forever. You know that. But the best part of today is that now, I know you’re all in, too.<br />
<br />
Not that I’ve ever doubted what you tell me. I see it in your eyes. I feel it, deep in my bones. I really don't need words, or rings, or blessings from God or our parents or anyone else. But I'd still like them, eventually.<br />
<br />
I figured I’d see relief flood your face at the sight of those earrings, and I was right. But then, for just a split second, I saw a flicker of the very emotion I was hoping against hope that I’d see:<br />
<br />
Disappointment.<br />
<br />
Go ahead and deny it, but I know the truth. I saw it. I felt it ripple through you while you mustered that sweet smile and said, “They’re beautiful.”<br />
<br />
You wished the gift had been more. You wanted it to be more.<br />
<br />
And it is more, Bella. So much more. I know for sure now that it’s only stage fright holding you back - some residual, irrational fear of commitment gone wrong, like it did for your parents. We’re not them - it won’t be like that for us.<br />
<br />
But I don’t need to convince you of that. I saw everything I needed to see tonight. So the next time I give you that ubiquitous velvet box with the rounded corners, you won’t have to wonder what’s inside. <br />
<br />
You’ll know. <br />
<br />
P.S. I’m not sure I thanked you enough for your Valentine gift to me. Those flavored massage oils were a very inspired choice. The cinnamon one made me feel warm in all the right places. Seemed to work just as well on you, too, and it tasted divine . . . as if you weren’t already sugar and spice and everything nice. <br />
<br />
I love you. Happy Valentine’s day, Bella.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>February 15</i></b><br />
<br />
<b>7:00 a.m.</b><br />
<i>Edward. Did you really need to see that flash of disappointment to prove that I want to spend the rest of my life with you? I thought you knew me better than that.<br />
<br />
You do know me better. You said so yourself. There’s nothing I want more. Yet I’ll still be nervous whenever that question-popping moment arrives, but <u>not</u> because I’m unsure.<br />
<br />
I’ll be nervous because you still give me butterflies. <br />
<br />
And goose-bumps, and wobbly knees, and a heart that skips and races and pounds in my chest and my ears. You are still a constant source of excitement for me, every bit as much as you are a source of comfort. I still feel that tremor of anticipation every time I’m about to see you, or when you look at me with hunger in your eyes even though you’ve already had me a hundred times before. I know that look, and I return it, because I recognize the feeling, the urge. I know I will never get enough of you.<br />
<br />
I suppose the butterflies will calm down one day, but they’ll never be stilled completely. With you, the thrill will never be gone. I’ll feel it for every important milestone of our lives - the days you ask me all the important questions, and the days I answer them. <br />
<br />
So if I’m shaky or sweaty or queasy or downright nauseous, don’t ever let that stop you. That’s just the butterflies going crazy because of how badly I want it - how badly I want <i><u>you</u></i>.<br />
<br />
I love you, Edward. And I love your Valentine present to me, for everything that it is and everything that it isn’t . . . yet. I’ll probably never take these diamonds out of my ears, you know. They’ll be good practice for any other forever-jewelry that you might wish to bestow upon me. I promise you won’t be disappointed in my reaction, or my answer.<br />
<br />
I’m all in, Edward. All the way.<br />
<br />
You. Me.<br />
<br />
Forever.<br />
</i>Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-11402383969745400172012-01-13T14:19:00.000-06:002012-01-13T14:19:24.804-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 27 - Images(Yikes...I forgot to post this little follow-up to Massage Therapy...shame on me! I'll fix that little problem now. Enjoy, everyone. And thanks to any of you who are reading on the blog. You're the best!)<br />
<br />
<b><i>The Diary of Bella and Edward</i><br />
December 22</b><br />
<br />
<i>EDWARD. ANTHONY. CULLEN. WHAT are those things hanging on the bedroom wall? And who printed those pictures?! If I find out a single soul saw those photographs besides you, I will mark you. You know I can do it. I’ve been growing out my fingernails so I can finger-pick my guitar better. You’d better have some answers for me before I finger-pick YOU.<br />
<br />
I’m going out to get some groceries so I can make those special cookies I told your mom I’d bring to their house for Christmas. I expect full disclosure when I come back.</i><br />
<br />
****************************************<br />
<br />
ISABELLA. MARIE. SWAN. You know exactly what those “things” are. Those are incredibly artful, tasteful, nude photographs of my hauntingly gorgeous girlfriend. I actually planned them as an early Christmas present for you, so that you would finally see how beautiful you are. I think you secretly know, but you’re too modest to admit it. I’m not interested in your false modesty. You are an incredibly sexy woman, and I want you to own it, the way you own me.<br />
<br />
My dear, feel free to “mark” me anyway you like. I’m perfectly fine with the fact that my kitten has claws now. Go ahead and use them on me. Your idea of “finger-picking” holds all sorts of intriguing possibilities. I can always blame Lucky if anyone asks questions. <br />
<br />
Hmm. Why do I get the feeling that we’re going to have some fun tonight?<br />
<br />
Shit, reading that you’re at the grocery store just reminded me that I was supposed to pick up some wine to take to Mom and Dad’s. I told Jazz I’d bring the beer to rehearsal tomorrow night, too. It’s a peace offering for not accepting his offer to officially join The Grade. It’s tempting, but let’s be real. How the hell will I keep up my own grades next semester if I’m working on his?<br />
<br />
Besides, I like making music with you better. Take that however you like.<br />
<br />
I’m leaving for the liquor store now, and those photos had better still be hanging in the bedroom when I get back. I’m not taking them down. And before you sharpen your claws, no one saw your beautiful body but me. Well, okay, and Kate’s girlfriend, Victoria. She’s a graphic designer so she let me use her computer equipment to make the enlargements, and she helped me tweak the contrast and stuff. (She’s jealous of me, just so you know. She thinks you’re hot. See?) When the photos were printed, I matted and framed them myself. <br />
<br />
Think about it, Bella: do you really believe I’d share you with anyone else? Let alone strangers in a photo kiosk?<br />
<br />
Love you. See you in a few.<br />
<br />
****************************************<br />
<br />
<i>Well, when you put it that way. . . You are a little on the jealous and possessive side. Just a smidge. Which I rather enjoy, by the way. So please don’t change on my account.<br />
<br />
But if you expect me to believe that those pictures are a Christmas present for me, then you must think I’d buy swamp land in Florida from you, too. Those are clearly a Christmas present for YOU.<br />
<br />
Okay, I’m sitting here in the bedroom now, studying the photographs, trying to view them objectively. The black and white is a nice touch. Sometimes I think those images barely resemble me. But then I see the look in my eyes, and it takes me right back to that night. The way you made me feel. . .so wanted, so desired. Beautiful. I am beautiful, because your love makes me so. And that is the best gift you ever could have given me.<br />
<br />
I’ll let the pictures be. For one thing, knowing you, they’ll frequently put you in the mood for all sorts of kinky fuckery, and I’ll be the lucky recipient. <br />
<br />
For another, I know where you keep your camera. Maybe I’ll take some pictures of my own, to hang on the opposite wall. Tit for tat, so to speak. I showed you my tits. Now it’s your turn to flex your “tat” for me. *ahem*<br />
<br />
There you are now. God, I love the rusty screech of that loft door swinging open -- the sound of you coming home to me. I know, I know -- if I moved in here permanently, I’d get to hear it all the time. Don’t worry. If Ben gives Angela the sparkly little Christmas present that I think he will, then she and I might be giving up our apartment sooner than you hoped. <br />
<br />
If -- no, when -- we move in together, then I hope for your sake that Charlie likes you. I still can’t believe he’s actually coming here to visit for Christmas, let alone spending it with us at your parents’ house. He’s obviously accepted that you and I are the real deal, and that’s saying something.<br />
<br />
Enough parent talk. You and I are going to have some fun tonight. I’ll try to be careful with my claws, but since they are rather new to me, I can’t make any promises. I suspect you’ll like the feel of me digging in and hanging on for dear life, anyway. I do have a possessive streak of my own.<br />
<br />
No more written words tonight. I’m coming to claim you now in person.</i>Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-26558421302400159762011-12-15T20:21:00.001-06:002011-12-15T20:22:38.245-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 26 - Farewell<b>This is the end! *sniff* I never imagined what a long, wordy journey I'd ben taking when I started this in July of 2010. It was a labor of love, though, believe me. Thanks to all of you who took it with me. Your support means the world to me.</b><br />
<br />
**************************************************************************<br />
<br />
Saturday, December 11<br />
<br />
Dear Tanya,<br />
<br />
It feels strange to be writing to you now after all this time. It’s been nearly three months now since I stopped. But Dr. Brennan thinks that I should write you one last time and give you my final farewell. It’s part of my therapy -- symbolic more than anything else at this point, but she thinks it’s important. Maybe it is. She hasn’t steered me wrong so far.<br />
<br />
I wish I had known about her when you were still alive. If I had ever gone to Dad for help back then, I might have. But no, I was almost as stubborn as you were. We were both so hell-bent on being independent and doing everything ourselves, the last thing we ever wanted to do was turn to our parents. I can’t help but think that if you had seen the right kind of psychotherapist -- someone as patient and kind and clear-headed as Norma -- you might still be around. <br />
<br />
I spent years and reams of paper turning those kind of “what-ifs” over and over in my mind. If only you had done this; if only I hadn’t done that. I addressed all those vain conjectures to you as if you could somehow change what happened, or at least explain it. I knew all along that the dead tell no tales. In truth, many of those “letters” had nothing to do with you, and I’m sure you know that. That was especially true after I met Bella. My journal was just an attempt to make sense of my life after you turned it upside down. <br />
<br />
I know now that there are events fate throws at you that you can never make sense of. All you can do is pray for the strength to deal with them, and hope that you have good people around you to help you get through them.<br />
<br />
I wish you had felt like you had that in your life. You did, you know. Even though I didn’t love you the way you wanted me too, I did want to help you. I would have been there for you if I had only known how. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the last words I said to you. You know that if I could take them back, I would. Wherever you are, I hope you can see that I didn’t mean them. I was angry and frustrated and I said things to purposely hurt you. We both did that night, and so many nights before that. <br />
<br />
Looking back, I realize how young and immature I was. I was as ill-equipped to handle your mental and emotional issues as you were. I wish I had turned to my father for help, but I was too proud. And when you did turn to your father, he was too proud to admit you had a problem. I wish he could have seen the truth before it was too late. I feel for him, I really do. He’s living in a personal hell of his own making. He blames me because he can’t shoulder his share of the responsibility in what happened to you. And the truth is, we were all culpable. We all made mistakes. Now we have to live with the consequences. <br />
<br />
I guess the difference now is that I’ve decided to stop making myself pay for those mistakes. I don’t know if I can fully forgive myself for my part in your death, but I can’t continue to take the sole responsibility for it. I used to think that if I did, the punishment would be enough to finally assuage my guilt. I never wanted to listen to Alice when she reminded me that you had free will, and I couldn’t have stopped you from exercising it. And I never wanted to hear it when my father told me I was throwing my life away along with yours after I quit school. But they were both right. Wishing you had been in a better frame of mind won’t bring you back, and putting my own life on hold won’t, either. <br />
<br />
Bella hit the nail on the head when she said that the mental illness took your life. When she uttered those words, I realized that I was finally ready to put the blame squarely where it belonged -- on a disease. Not on me, or your father; not even on you. We were all victims. I’ll never stop wishing we could have gotten you the right kind of help before things got so bad. But wishing won’t make it so, and beating myself up over it won’t accomplish anything except to waste another life. I don’t know how much I have to offer the world, but I’d like to think I can make a difference somewhere, to someone. <br />
<br />
You made a difference to me. I want you to know that. I still remember the good times, you know . . . when you were vibrant and full of life and fun and mischief. I wouldn’t change any of what we shared. I’m grateful for all of it, even the bad stuff. I don’t regret you, or us. You mattered to me, and I hope you knew that when you were alive. I hope you know it now.<br />
<br />
And even though I couldn’t save your life, I made a difference in Bella’s, of that much I’m sure. When she came to Emmett and me for help, her issues were more severe than I ever imagined. I didn’t know if we would be able to “fix” her, but I wanted more than anything to rise to that challenge. I knew my life had purpose when I worked on her. Of course, I didn’t find out until later why I was so drawn to her, and why she affected me so deeply. But I was filled with the conviction that I was put here on this earth to save her after I failed so miserably with you. What I didn’t know then was that she was meant to save me, too.<br />
<br />
I wish I could have done that for you. Or that you had stuck around long enough to find the person who would be to you what Bella is to me, and I to her. All I can do now is to live my life more consciously, and be the kind of man in the present that I wish I could have been in the past. It’s the only way I know how to honor you now that it’s too late to ever truly make amends.<br />
<br />
I’m still not sure what I believe of heaven and hell, or whatever lies between. I know that Bella believes her mother is in heaven, keeping watch over her. If there is some kind of afterlife or alternate world we go to after we die, then I hope you can see how I’ve tried to change as of late. I think that would make you happier than me punishing myself over and over for my shortcomings with you. You already know how sorry I am, and how impotent and angry and frustrated I felt for so long. The time finally arrived for me to let it all go. Not to forget -- I’ll never forget. But to forgive -- myself, you, our doomed situation. <br />
<br />
I stopped writing to you when I realized I was ready to move on. I have moved on. I hope you don’t begrudge me that. I lived in my self-imposed prison for so long that I hardly know what to do with my freedom now. I’ve tried to put it to good use. I’ve registered for the spring semester at U-Dub, still majoring in pre-med. I’ll be working part-time as a massage therapist, then taking afternoon and evening classes. I know it’s going to be hard work, but I’m ready for it. I’m ready for my next challenge.<br />
<br />
I won’t be alone at UW next year. Alice decided that being closer to Jasper was as important to her as her career, so she’s transferring next semester and completing grad school here in Seattle. She had considered doing that anyway because of their pediatrics program, so her decision didn’t come as much of a surprise to me. I know how she feels about Jazz, so this is a win-win for her. For Jasper, too. He’s a man of few words, but I could see how much he missed my sister while she was away. Can’t say I blame him. I would never be able to withstand any lengthy separation from Bella. <br />
<br />
She and I are pretty inseparable these days. She still has her own career, of course, and it’s thriving. The Wolf Pack just finished recording and are playing bigger venues around Seattle; their CD is due out in the new year. And Vegan Vamps are in the middle of a nationwide tour, promoting their first CD. Bella and Rosalie have managed to iron things out, for the most part. We all have to co-exist peacefully since Emmett is so gone on Rose. To be fair, she’s pretty enamored of my brother, too. Sometimes opposites attract. One thing I’ve learned is that love is unpredictable, and it usually hits you when and where you least expect it.<br />
<br />
I certainly wasn’t looking for Bella when she walked into my massage room that day six months ago. I fought her with every fiber of my being at first. I wasn’t ready to change; wasn’t willing to let go of the past and welcome someone new into my life. Someone who actually mattered -- someone I’d want to invest in again.<br />
<br />
But now I can’t imagine my life without her. I miss her when she’s not around, and I know she misses me, too. She tells me so all the time, in our diary. Weird, I know -- the two of us keeping a shared journal like that. But it’s been a surprisingly good thing. We write mostly when the other isn’t around, but then we’re free to read each other’s entries later. Sometimes it’s easier to put things in writing than to say them to each other’s faces. <br />
<br />
You’d think that would be a great way to start fights, wouldn’t you? That we’d carelessly put something down in print in the heat of the moment and then regret it later. But it’s actually had the opposite effect. We feel better when we get things off our chest, and later we often laugh about our grievances after we’ve had time to cool off. We don’t fight much, anyway. And when we do, it’s always about little things. Bella’s constantly rearranging my kitchen and then I never know where anything is, on the rare occasions I actually want to fix myself some food. And she always acts annoyed when I want to have sex in the morning, because she says I make her late to work. Granted, she does have a little further to drive to the office than I do. But I don’t really believe her protests because she’s as turned on by wake-up sex as I am, despite her claims that she’s not a morning person.<br />
<br />
I guess I shouldn’t be telling you these things, should I? I’ve strayed far from the point of this letter. Or maybe I haven’t, really. Because one of the things I wanted you to know is that I’m happy now. Bella and I make each other happy in a way that you and I never did, and never could have. <br />
<br />
I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m just stating that what you wanted from me was something I never could have given you, regardless of your bipolar disorder. I truly wish you could have seen that there was so much left for you here in this world -- a whole life beyond me, beyond us. I’d give anything for you to have lived long enough to discover that like I have. I wish you hadn’t sold yourself short. But I’ve learned that selling myself short in penance is no solution; no way to live.<br />
<br />
And that’s what I want to do now. Live. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and be happy for me. Even when I was furious with you, I wished you only the best. I still do. I pray that you’ve found the peace that always eluded you when you were alive. If Bella’s right, and there is a heaven, then maybe you’ve found it and you’re in a much better place now. I hope that’s true. <br />
<br />
Maybe you can meet up with Bella’s mom and watch over us tonight. Bella’s going to perform for the first time ever, at an open mic night at Billy’s. She’s not doing it alone, though -- we’re going to do a duet together, the song that I wrote for her. Alice just got back home yesterday, so the whole gang is going to be there to support us. I’m really excited about it, because I know Bella will do great.<br />
<br />
She’s mildly terrified, of course, even though I reassure her at least once an hour that she’s going to be fine. We’ve rehearsed so much that I think we could perform this thing in our sleep. But I know all too well about pre-performance jitters, so I’m trying to be the strong, calm one this time for her sake. I like it when she relies on me. Responsibility doesn’t freak me out like it used to. Guess I really am growing up.<br />
<br />
Maybe it’s too much to ask you to witness my life finally moving forward without you. I suppose it is. But I like to think that if you had gotten the help you needed, you and I could have been friends eventually. Or at least not enemies. I never wished you ill, and deep down I know you never did me, either. So now that the moment has arrived for us to part ways for good, and I’d like to make it an amicable split. I hope your spirit is as willing as mine is.<br />
<br />
My mom’s friend Tom is taking me out on the Sound tomorrow for a short trip on his boat. You and I both know what tomorrow is -- the blackest anniversary I’ll ever know. It’ll be three years to the day since I found you in that bathtub. But I hope to lessen its stain by taking this letter with me, reading it to you, and then casting it out over the water. Norma suggested that I do something symbolic -- a “cleansing ritual,” I think she called it -- to end our chapter once and for all so that I’m fully free to commit to the next. <br />
<br />
I’m ready now. I’ve been ready for awhile. Bella told me she never said good-bye to her mom; just farewell until it was time for them to meet again. And so I’ll simply say “farewell” to you, Tanya, because I truly do wish you well. Wherever you are, I hope you can find it in your heart to do the same for me.<br />
<br />
~EdwardGemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-88046353343346558162011-12-11T18:35:00.000-06:002011-12-11T18:35:56.319-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 25 - Reunion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MGto525nKMg/TuVLd9vFDzI/AAAAAAAABQ4/SlWXf7BT44c/s1600/London%2BBD%2Bpremiere%2B7%2B11.16.11crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="286" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MGto525nKMg/TuVLd9vFDzI/AAAAAAAABQ4/SlWXf7BT44c/s400/London%2BBD%2Bpremiere%2B7%2B11.16.11crop.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b><i>The Diary of Bella and Edward</i><br />
Monday, September 20</b><br />
<br />
<i>Aw, that’s sweet that you put my name before yours, Edward.</i><br />
<br />
Ladies first, always. You know I’m a gentleman.<br />
<br />
<i>But only when necessary, thank God</i>.<br />
<br />
I thought you liked gentlemen.<br />
<br />
<i>I do. But I happen to be very fond of your un-gentlemanly behavior, when you choose to unleash it. It does decadent things to my girly bits. </i><br />
<br />
Mm . . . so I’ve noticed. Stop distracting me -- I have very important events to record here. I’ll do things to your girly bits later.<br />
<br />
<i>Is that a promise? Okay, okay. So exactly how does this shared journal thing work, anyway? Do we take turns writing entries? Or do we divide each page down the middle so we can make comments on what the other has written?</i><br />
<br />
That sounds equitable. Let’s divide it down the middle. Or how about I take the left-hand pages and you take the right?<br />
<br />
<i>Okay, sure. But what happened to “ladies first?”</i><br />
<br />
I’m calling dibs this time because I want to write about your surprise for me today. That’s the kind of thing I need to describe in detail for posterity. Although I’m certain I’ll never forget how I felt when I walked into that room and saw you there.<br />
<br />
<i>It was a good surprise, wasn’t it?</i><br />
<br />
The best. But before we get ahead of ourselves, I need to backtrack a bit. Are you hungry? You’re welcome to anything in my kitchen while I write. This could take awhile.<br />
<br />
<i>Is that your way of asking me to make us some dinner? You know, this would go a lot faster if we kept a cyber diary instead. Typing is a lot quicker than writing long-hand. Join me in the twenty-first century, Edward. </i><br />
<br />
I like the physicality of writing the old-fashioned way -- the feel of the notebook on my lap, the paper under my hands, the pen between my fingers. You should be happy that I’m such a tactile person. It has served you well, if I’m not mistaken.<br />
<br />
<i>Indeed it has. And I must admit, you look very poetic and dashing scribbling away next to me while I look over your shoulder. But I’ll leave you here on the couch for now and go make dinner with whatever you have in the kitchen that passes for food.</i><br />
<br />
Hey, I went shopping when I knew you were coming home. You might be surprised.<br />
<br />
<i>You always surprise me. In a really good way. So, you write about today, and I’ll read it later and add my own comments. This could be fun.</i><br />
<br />
It will be fun. That was a nice kiss you just gave me, by the way. I almost didn’t let you off of the couch, except that I really am kind of hungry, for food this time. I wonder if you can feel my eyes on your ass while you walk away? Probably, since they’re pretty much fixed there whenever you have your back to me.<br />
<br />
God, I missed you here in the loft. I never minded the emptiness before you filled it. It’s so cold when you’re not here . . . vacant. Kind of like my soul was before you resurrected it. When you read the rest of the letters in here, you’ll know. I don’t care anymore that you’ll see how needy I am. I know you need me, too. If I’d realized how much freedom there was in surrender, I would have given in to you completely long ago.<br />
<br />
I have to hand it to you -- I really didn’t see your surprise coming today. I believed your texts, and I believed Emmett’s ruse. Even Jessica was amazingly convincing as she lied right to my face. Should I be a little worried at how duplicitous all of you are capable of being? Of course, look at how I kept things from you for so long. Turnabout is fair play. And considering how much that turnabout was to my benefit, I’m pretty undeserving, no matter how much you’d probably like to argue that point.<br />
<br />
In any case, I readily believed Emmett when he begged me to squeeze in a session with a new patient of his, even though he knew how anxious I was to leave work as soon as possible to meet you at your place. Jessica even went so far as to reschedule my last appointment of the day so that I could take off early. You should have seen the repentant look on her face when I sullenly asked her about my unexpected new client.<br />
<br />
“Sorry, Edward. Emmett says this new girl has some major issues going on -- muscles tight as a drum, pulling her spine all out of whack. Maybe you can just give her a quick relaxation massage today and then reschedule her some other time.” Her last phrase sounded like a question, her sheepish grin looking more like a grimace.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, Emmett already gave me that hangdog expression. It’s fine. I’ve already waited a week -- what’s another hour?” I said with a resigned shrug.<br />
<br />
“Well, just think how much sweeter your reunion will be the longer you have to wait for it. Right?” I should have questioned the giddy tone of her voice right then.<br />
<br />
“Sure,” I answered with a quick, forced smile. “So, do you have her patient file?”<br />
<br />
“Emmett put it inside the door,” Jessica replied smoothly.<br />
<br />
“Okay.” I began to walk down the hall toward the massage room when I caught her smug grin out of the corner of my eye.<br />
<br />
“You look pleased with yourself,” I noted, stopping briefly at the side of the counter. “Did you have a nice weekend? Did you see Jake, perhaps?” I added hopefully.<br />
<br />
“I did, actually,” she said, her face brightening. “He took me to this cool Mexican restaurant before he had a gig with the Pack. They’re sounding fantastic, by the way. He says the recording is going great. And on the plus side, he didn’t mention Bella once the entire evening.” -- <i>That’s probably the same place he took me. He really needs to up his game and get more creative.<br />
</i><br />
My grin matched her own. “I’d say that’s a very big plus.” Of course, you’ve been gone all week, but like Jessica, I choose to believe that maybe he’s finally accepting reality and moving on from his fixation with you. If not, I’ll help move him along forcibly, if necessary. <i> -- I love it when you start in with the macho posturing and threats. That does things to my girly bits, too.<br />
</i><br />
It always takes me a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the ambient lighting in my massage room. I pushed my glasses up my nose, then reached for the patient file folder Jessica had deposited in its usual plastic holder on the wall inside the door. I wish I had a picture of the huge smile that engulfed my face when I opened the file and saw the name on the top of that patient information page. I knew what I would find when I looked over at the massage table, but I still felt a surge of emotion barrel through me at the sight.<br />
<br />
There you were, lying face down on the mattress, your pale skin gleaming like amber-tinted alabaster in the glow of my desk lamp. I felt exactly the same as the day I first saw you there . . . strangely, inexplicably moved; and inexorably drawn to you.<br />
<br />
Except now, there’s nothing inexplicable about it. And I welcome your inexorable pull instead of fearing it. I relish the sway you have over me now. I live for it. I happily gave into its insistence as I slowly walked toward you and gazed down at your beautiful back. <br />
<br />
I’m sure you heard my voice crack with emotion when I spoke. “What seems to be the trouble, Miss Swan?” <br />
<br />
You spoke through the towel-wrapped donut hole, just as before. “Well, I’ve been having some issues that go way back to a car accident I was in six years ago. I thought that maybe you could help me. I hear you’re the best.”<br />
<br />
I smiled and came to stand at the head of the table, looking down at those cascades of chestnut hair just like I did that day. When I touched your neck, it felt almost like the first time. Your skin prickled in goose bumps again and desire stirred deep within me. It was the same desire that’s always been there, yet so much richer now, infused with love and respect and understanding. <br />
<br />
“I don’t know if I’m the best,” I said dubiously. “But I promise to do my best for you. If I can make you feel whole again, that will be the best thing I’ll ever accomplish.”<br />
<br />
My hands were on autopilot as I spoke, examining every inch of your ivory skin in search of any deficiency. I found few. And the ones I did find acquiesced to my touch in a way that made my satisfaction -- for both you and me -- soar. You are living proof of my worth. <br />
<br />
“My entire life, I’ve never felt as whole as I have with you.” Your words were mumbled through the donut hole, but they still sounded like angels singing to me. “Maybe if I’m lucky, I can return the favor someday.”<br />
<br />
I couldn’t take any more after that. I’m sure you could hear how choked up I was. “You already have. You know that. In a way I thought would never be possible for me.”<br />
<br />
I pulled the flannel sheet over you and gently lifted you into a sitting position. You easily helped me along, which you never would have been able to do that first day without wincing from your lower back injury. And then you fixed those chocolate eyes on me for the first time in a week, and I felt the melancholy of those days disappear in an instant. <br />
<br />
“Edward, that letter . . .” You were shaking your head; I tried to still the motion by placing my hands on either side of your face. “I don’t even know where to begin. How to tell you what those words meant to me. How I wish I hadn’t left you here to go through all that alone.”<br />
<br />
“But I had to do it alone,” I interrupted you. “You knew that. You knew that taking a step back would make me take a step forward. I needed the push. Or the pull. Whatever it is between us that forces me to be a better man.”<br />
<br />
Your hands were on my face then, too; warm and cradling and possessing. “You were already a good man without me. I wish you’d acknowledge that.”<br />
<br />
“But I like who I am with you so much better. You freed me from that cage, in so many ways . . .” I trailed off, remembering how you brought me out of myself without even trying. Without me even realizing it. “Here I am, the therapist, being healed by his patient.” My smile felt both wry and grateful.<br />
<br />
“We healed each other.” I drank in your smile, swam in the film of tears that gathered in your eyes. “I came to you for massage therapy and got so much more.”<br />
<br />
“A hell of lot more than you ever bargained for, I’m sure,” I replied with a laugh, determined to make this a happy reunion for us. <br />
<br />
Your laugh was short but genuine. “More than I ever hoped for.” <br />
<br />
“I know the feeling. I’d still be stuck in a hell of my own making if it weren’t for you. Thank you for not giving up on me. For not letting me give up on myself.”<br />
<br />
“You know you don’t need to thank me for that.” Your fingers were in my hair then; my scalp tingled and begged for more. “I’d do anything for you.”<br />
<br />
I saw the truth in your eyes; felt it in your touch. “And you know I’d do the same for you.”<br />
<br />
A smile broke through your tears then. “You’re going back to school!” I smiled and nodded a little sheepishly at your exclamation. “The fact that you’re doing something for yourself means more to me than anything else you could do for me.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, well, it feels like a way to finally complete that chapter of my life and be done with it. I mean, I have no idea if I’ll end up even using that degree. You never know, I just might chuck the whole health care profession and join Jasper’s band instead.”<br />
<br />
I saw your eyes light up a little at the idea, but your reply was diplomatic. “You know I’ll support whatever decision you make.”<br />
<br />
I nodded and felt my grin spread. “There’s a certain appeal in joining The Grade, you know. Just making music all day and night. There’d be a lot of satisfaction in that -- reaching people in a different way. You always said music could save people. That it saved you.”<br />
<br />
“You know how much I believe that,” you enthused. “And I could get you signed to Java and oversee your recording and marketing and distribution….”<br />
<br />
I cut you off before you got carried away. “And then we could crash and burn like Rosalie and her first boyfriend when they tried to work together like that. Remember what I’ve always said about business and pleasure?”<br />
<br />
Your expression was scoffing as your hands moved down my neck, thumbs over my collarbone, fingers under the collar of my lab coat. I watched my own hands stray over you the same way.<br />
<br />
“Your insistence on not mixing business and pleasure is what caused us so much trouble in the first place,” you reminded me. “If you had just allowed the two to co-exist peacefully, we never would have had all those misunderstandings.”<br />
<br />
“Maybe,” I admitted. The sheet had begun to slip down, exposing your breasts, and the dusky pink protrusion of your nipples distracted me. “But back then I was unconsciously looking for excuses to fuck things up between us. If one method didn’t do the trick, I would have found another.”<br />
<br />
“Or maybe you would have just given in to me.” I watched as your fingers unbuttoned my shirt, one by one; felt the warm air and your even warmer touch ignite my skin with desire. <br />
<br />
“I wanted to.” My voice was growing huskier, my hands bolder. Your sigh was soft and maddening when I traced the tips of my fingers over your hardening nipples. <br />
<br />
“Just think what could have happened the day that we both got ourselves off, a room away from each other, instead of giving in to what we both wanted.”<br />
<br />
It was my turn to sigh as I trailed my fingers down your taut stomach, taking the sheet down with them. I stopped only when you reached up to push the lab coat off of me. I let my arms go limp until you had succeeded in making my jacket and shirt drop to the floor with a muffled thud.<br />
<br />
“God, the thought of you lying here, touching yourself . . .” I stared down at you and imagined your fingers working yourself into a frenzy while you fantasized about me. I caught your eyes with mine and voiced my desire out loud. <br />
<br />
“Show me. Right now. Show me what you did.”<br />
<br />
Even in the dim light, I could see the blood rush to your cheeks in my favorite cocktail of self-consciousness and lust. You bit your lip in that way that drives me crazy, then you lay back on the table and kicked the sheet down with your feet, your eyes locked with mine the entire time. But I soon felt my eyes stray down your body, and your hand followed, fingers smoothing over your belly, heading south. I think I stopped breathing for a minute as you pushed your fingers under the lace edge of your panties -- tiny floral print today -- and down, down, down until they forced a pleasurable sigh from your mouth. <br />
<br />
“I’m sure I started like this,” you said, moving your hand up and down rhythmically beneath the cotton panel, legs spreading and hips tilting upward. I glanced at the sultry gaze in your eyes before my attention was arrested by the movement of your body, undulating into the pressure of your fingers. “I’m sure I was imagining you doing this to me, touching me this way. And then, when I was good and wet, my fingers slid inside . . . deeper, and then deeper still . . . while I pretended they were your fingers. . . and then your cock.”<br />
<br />
Your voice was almost as hypnotic as the motion of your hand pushing the fabric of your panties down while you pleasured yourself. My dick was throbbing, but my eyes were frustrated. My hands obeyed their demands and I reached for the edge of your underwear, pulling the offending cotton down over your hips. I loved when you lifted your body so that I could pull the panties down and remove them altogether. I loved even more that you would let me watch you do this to yourself -- shove the fingers of your right hand deep into your vagina while your left hand joined in and massaged your clit in perfect time. <br />
<br />
The self-conscious girl I once knew never would have done this so freely; never would have trusted me enough to truly let go of her inhibitions. I thought I had banished her for good until I saw her lurking in your eyes last weekend when you found my journal. But watching you now, unashamed and free, I knew that I would not see her again. And that is one loss I will not lament.<br />
<br />
I couldn’t decide which I wanted more -- to continue watching you do the all the work, or to jump in and do it myself. I compromised by unzipping my own pants and pushing them down, releasing my hard-on into my own waiting hands. <br />
<br />
I’m not sure why it felt so intimate to do this together -- watch each other revel in our own auto-erotica without even touching each other. Yet our eyes were transfixed on each other’s sex while our frantic hands brought moans to our hungry mouths. We hadn’t even kissed yet, and at last I realized that my mouth was watering for yours, begging for the feel of your tongue tangling with mine.<br />
<br />
I think I murmured something like “So fucking sexy” before I gave up and leaned over the head of the massage table, grabbing your face in my hands and covering your lips with mine. God, the taste of you after so long . . . Indescribable. I couldn’t stop devouring your mouth with hungry kisses, and your desperation matched mine, which only made my crazier. My hands were all over you, one in your hair, the other caressing every part of your body I could reach, like a blind man finally granted permission to “see” his lover for the first time.<br />
<br />
Your hands were just as hot and greedy on my skin, searing me and making me groan into your mouth. By the time you grasped my dick and began stroking it up and down, I was a panting mess, barely able to even kiss you. I felt like a teenager again, floored by the first touch of a girl’s hand. I could feel you grinning into my mouth; relishing your power over me, using it to your advantage and mine as you pumped my shaft hard and fast. You showed my dick no mercy, knowing that it wanted none. <br />
<br />
You know me so well -- what I need, what I want; but most of all, what I don’t even realize that I need and want. I always prided myself on having figured that out about you. I never stopped to consider that you’d figured out the same about me.<br />
<br />
As our kiss disintegrated, you scooted around slightly so that your head was hanging slightly over the edge of the mattress. You looked up at me and I could see that your expression was provocative, even upside down. Your hand never stilled on my dick, gently yanking and pulling me in the direction of your mouth.<br />
<br />
“Give me your cock. I want to taste you.”<br />
<br />
I vaguely hoped that Emmett and Jessica had vacated the building, because the groan I emitted was definitely loud enough to be heard in the next two rooms. My lust barely outweighed my awe as you tilted your head back and took me in your mouth. You were unable to really move your head in this position, so I withdrew, let you take a breath, and gently pushed into your mouth again, down your open and waiting throat. I felt it constrict around the tip of my cock, and I pulled out before you choked; but then the irresistible urge to gently push into that hot, wet entrance overtook me again.<br />
<br />
“Fuck,” I groaned, unable to produce any other coherent speech as I filled your mouth and watched your throat expand in the shape of my cock before I withdrew again. I’m still a little stunned that you took me in that way, over and over . . . Let me bury myself so deep that your lips sucked the base of my cock before I pulled back again.<br />
<br />
If it bothered you, you never let it show. Your hands gripped my hips and thighs; your tongue tickled my shaft with every thrust. If you choked, I pulled out. But I can’t deny that the sensation of fucking your beautiful mouth was one of the most intense highs I’ve ever experienced. Not just the feel of it, but the trust you had in me not to hurt you. I was overwhelmed at the fact that you wanted to give me pleasure so much that you were willing to do something that might have been completely uncomfortable for you. <i>--Just so you know, it wasn’t that bad. I felt kind of fierce, like a sword swallower in the circus. Getting you off gets me off. Surely you’ve figured that out along with all your other insights, right?</i><br />
<br />
Once I got into the careful rhythm of it, I couldn’t keep my hands off of your body before me, naked and wanting. My fingers soon picked up where yours had left off, stroking and rubbing and then sliding inside you. I can’t believe how much I missed that sweet pussy after only a week. I felt like the luckiest bastard in the world that you would let me invade you so completely, fingers plunging deep in one end while my dick plundered the other. But you seemed to welcome the invasion, your moans vibrating my cock until I thought I would lose it and ejaculate right down your throat.<br />
<br />
But I didn’t want it to end like that, so premature, in such a coarse way. Today deserved better than that. <br />
<br />
I withdrew from you completely and eased your head back up on the flannel-covered mattress, turning you slightly so that I could drown in that Hershey’s syrup looking up at me. <br />
<br />
“God, you’re incredible,” I said before I leaned down and kissed you, not giving a damn about where your mouth had just been. <br />
<br />
“So are you,” you replied, shaking your head a little. “Do you have any sexual hang-ups at all?”<br />
<br />
I thought for a moment. “I’m not really into pain, yours or mine. I guess that’s my only boundary.”<br />
<br />
I loved that little Mona Lisa smile you gave me. “Works for me.”<br />
<br />
My lips found your throat and I nuzzled there a moment, but my imagination was restless. <br />
<br />
“Do you remember that text message you sent me when you were drunk?” I whispered in her ear.<br />
<br />
Your giggles stirred the hair at my temple and sent a hot shiver down my spine. “Vaguely.”<br />
<br />
“Allow me to refresh your memory, then. I believe you said you wanted me to fuck you from behind . . .” I stopped to plant several kisses along your neck. “. . . deep and hard, like you like it.”<br />
<br />
Your feigned shock was adorable. “That must have been the whiskey talking.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t think so,” I argued, letting my lips trail down your chest. “I think you were telling me exactly what you like. You said you wanted my cock aalll the way in.” My thumb toyed with your left nipple while my tongue tickled your right, and I relished how it made you squirm and squeal a little. “I love it when we’re on the same page.”<br />
<br />
I stood abruptly so that you’d scowl up at me until you saw that I was merely removing my clothes entirely, including shoes and socks. I climbed up on the mattress and lowered myself onto you, groaning at the feel of your body beneath mine, warm and soft and responsive. My mouth captured yours and I didn’t want to let it go; my fingers entwined in your hair and held on for dear life. The feel of your skin, your lips, pressed to mine is the closest I’ll ever get to heaven on earth, of that I’m sure. <br />
<br />
I couldn’t wait to enter you. Your legs were instantly open to me, your limbs already wrapping around me and holding me there. Our moans mingled into one when I slid my cock into that sweet heat, and I knew I wouldn’t stop until we both came undone.<br />
<br />
“What about the fucking from behind?” you murmured in my ear. You didn’t seem eager to turn over any time soon, your hands gripping my shoulders and my back, your hips bucking forcefully upward with every thrust of my cock.<br />
<br />
“Later,” I managed to grunt hoarsely. “We have all night.”<br />
<br />
Your groan was guttural as I ground my hips into yours. “Thank God we do,” you replied in between moans as our rhythm intensified.<br />
<br />
I’m going to admit something to you right now, Bella. No matter how many gymnastic positions we attempt, or silly toys we play with to keep things interesting, I will never love anything as much as I love looking you right in the eyes, every inch of our bodies fused into one, when we come. Nothing will ever surpass that connection I feel with you when we’re face to face, body to body, soul to soul; when you tighten all around me and possess me, and I surrender and explode inside you. <br />
<br />
There is nothing I will ever need or want more than that. And I think I sensed it from the very beginning with us. It just took me awhile to stop playing by the rules -- not just the ones imposed upon me, but the ones I made for myself. So today, when I finally ignored them and followed my heart instead, I felt another barrier fall away. Coming inside you on that massage table was one of the most oddly freeing things I’ve ever done. It was like acknowledging, once and for all, what is most important to me. Or whom, I should say. <br />
<br />
It will always be you. You are my life now.<br />
<br />
And speak of the angel, you’re walking toward me right now. Something smells delicious in this loft, and I’m about to go see what it is. You can read this and add your own comments, or fill in the things I left out.<br />
<br />
I love you, Bella. I’ll say it every day, and I’ll write it every day, so you never forget it. <br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Wow. There’s not much to add. (Although I couldn’t resist a little peanut-gallery comment here and there, which you’ll see when you look back at your entry.) <br />
<br />
As always, your words astonish me, Edward. I don’t know why I’m surprised, though. From the very beginning, I saw that depth in your eyes; that anguish and desperation; and that hope for something more. Something better. I wanted to really know you, like no one ever has before. I wanted to be the one to set you free. And now that I’ve actually helped you accomplish that, I know my own worth, too. <br />
<br />
I’m watching you in the kitchen, sniffing under pot lids and peeking into the oven, and I’m absurdly, insanely attracted to you right now. It’s like your mere existence makes me so high that I’d be happy to simply observe you from afar for the rest of my life. But trust me, I’m much happier when you let me share in your existence. <br />
<br />
You are my life now, too. <br />
<br />
And I’ll tell you I love you, in words written and spoken, every day. That can be our troth to one another.<br />
<br />
Until we make an official one, that is. And make no mistake, regardless of what I’ve said in the past about marriage, I will require some sort of formal commitment if you hope to ever have the slightest chance of keeping me barefoot and pregnant. <br />
<br />
With that, I’m off to check on dinner. You look happy enough with it, and that’s enough for me. Here, you take the journal while I go stir. Love you.<br />
</i><br />
I knew it! I knew you wanted to have my babies. *picture my smug, self-satisfied mug here*<br />
<br />
That can wait awhile, though. We have a lot of living to do before then. That’s why I bought such a big diary for us. I know we’ll fill these pages in the blink of an eye.<br />
<br />
This is just the beginning for us, Bella. And I intend to savor every minute of it.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-2290389583548089742011-12-04T23:06:00.000-06:002011-12-04T23:06:30.107-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 24 - Letters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8IztvnwQIWU/TtxQLPcseTI/AAAAAAAABQs/0au2EdkrQZY/s1600/RememberMeStill2HQ-1%2Bcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="344" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8IztvnwQIWU/TtxQLPcseTI/AAAAAAAABQs/0au2EdkrQZY/s400/RememberMeStill2HQ-1%2Bcrop.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Sunday, September 19</b><br />
<br />
I forgot how relentlessly green Forks is.<br />
<br />
Every day I’ve been here this week, I’ve realized more and more why you needed to leave, Mom. It’s peaceful and tranquil, and the natives seem to like it. Dad has settled nicely into his niche here, and he’s content. But within a few days, the flora-filled atmosphere somehow went from soothing to oppressive. Maybe it’s because the quiet and solitude gave me more than enough time to mull things over in my head. Too much time.<br />
<br />
Maybe it’s because I miss Edward so much that my heart hurts.<br />
<br />
All I know is that I can’t wait to leave tomorrow. I love Charlie and I’ll miss him, but I’ve decided he’s coming to Seattle the next time he wants to see me, even if I have to come here and forcibly drag him back with me.<br />
<br />
The fishing trip with him Tuesday was good, and Wednesday I helped him do some chores around the house; but I think we were both relieved when he went back to work Thursday and Friday. Problem is, that left me with a lot of time on my hands. I practiced playing my new guitar until my fingers hurt; then I took lots of walks and did lots of thinking. But no matter what my head comes up with, my heart still holds fast to two things: I love Edward no matter what; and I love my job at Java Noise enough to try to work things out with Rose. <br />
<br />
As long she’s in Emmett’s life and I’m in Edward’s, we’re stuck with each other. We had had a good working relationship before her paranoia got the best of her, so I’m hopeful that we can rebuild it. I was actually relieved to get a voicemail from her Friday afternoon while I was out for one of my strolls.<br />
<br />
“Bella, I’m so sorry to bother you while you’re on vacation, but I have looked everywhere and I cannot find that press kit for Leo Clifton. You remember that big, hairy dude that looks like he spent three years in a Himalayan cave? Well, Mark saw him perform last week and was really impressed with the guy. I know we have his demo somewhere. If you remember where it is, please give me a call back.<br />
<br />
“Hope you’re having a good vacation. I was thinking about you a lot earlier this week--I know how hard those days must have been for you. We all miss you here. Talk to you soon.”<br />
<br />
I was actually grateful to have an opportunity to be useful, so I called her back as soon as I got home and discovered her message.<br />
<br />
“The press kit is in my holding file, bottom right drawer of my desk,” I told her when she picked up. “That’s where I keep all the pending acts -- the ones we’re seriously considering.”<br />
<br />
“Thanks! You’re a life saver.” I heard her rummaging until she let out an exclamation of victory. “How is it I’ve never known this is where you keep the hot commodities? I need to pay more attention, obviously. But I never would have looked in your desk without asking you first, anyway. I learned my lesson there,” she added contritely.<br />
<br />
“That’s okay. Obviously you need to have access to all the files. It’s just the top desk drawer that I got a little upset about. It’s okay. I mean, you did have a point about everything in that office being Java property.”<br />
<br />
“Well, I crossed the line and we both know it. But I really do want to try to earn your trust again, if you’ll let me. We want you back. I want you back. I need your ear! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve turned to ask your opinion on something and you weren’t there. I’ve missed you.”<br />
<br />
“Wow,” I said, a bit surprised. Rosalie had never been so open or so complimentary before. “That’s nice to hear. I’ve kind of missed the activity, too. And the music. It’s so quiet here.”<br />
<br />
“So . . . that means you’re coming back next week?” she asked uncertainly.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I think so. Would Tuesday be all right?”<br />
<br />
“Tuesday would be great.” Rose sounded relieved. “I was afraid you were going to give your notice. Can’t say I would have blamed you.”<br />
<br />
“I thought about it, to be honest,” I admitted. “But I love my job there, and I believe in the company. I’ve always liked the philosophy at Java. It’s more about the integrity of the music and the artists than making money.”<br />
<br />
“True. Though I prefer to strike a profitable balance where that’s concerned,” she answered with a laugh. “Well, I’d better get this file down to Mark. I’ll see you next week. And Bella . . . thanks.”<br />
<br />
Her last words carried more weight than the rest. I could tell she was thanking me for my effort to forgive and forget rather than helping her find a file.<br />
<br />
“You’re welcome,” I told her, in the same knowing tone. <br />
<br />
As I hung up the phone, I felt like a weight had been lifted. I never realized what heavy burdens grudges were until I let one go.<br />
<br />
That night, I let the weightlessness get to me a bit. I met up with Eric, Tyler and Lauren. Angela will be interested to know that Eric asked me lots of questions about her. He always had a thing for her in high school but never acted on it, so Ben beat him to the punch. Eric was surprised, and I think a bit disappointed, to hear that Ange and Ben are still together.<br />
<br />
I was surprised myself to see that Tyler and Lauren were still an item, and in fact, were engaged to be married. I was also feeling guiltily smug that Lauren had put on a considerable amount of weight since high school. The guilt went away as soon as I realized that she was as snobby as ever, regardless of the fact that her beauty queen days were far behind her. She still acted like she was the hottest girl in town. But I soon realized that I was content to let her enjoy being the biggest and brightest fish in her tiny pond. I’d be heading back to the ocean I loved soon enough.<br />
<br />
So, I decided to relax, drink and be merry. I joined them in their drinking games, to disastrous results. The drunker I got, the more I missed Edward; and the more I missed him, the more I drank. <br />
<br />
We hadn’t talked all week. It seemed to be a literally unspoken agreement between us: that we would take this time to be on our own, to work on ourselves; so we had only sent text messages to one another. The sound of his voice haunted me. Amidst the noise of the bar, I kept imagining his velvet tones in my ear, his breath on my neck, his whispered tremors shivering down my spine.<br />
<br />
His phantom voice guided me all the way home. I could practically hear him telling me which way to go as I drunkenly maneuvered my behemoth of a truck down the back streets of Forks. As soon as I sneaked past Charlie’s room where he lay snoring, I fell on my bed in a stupor and began texting Edward.<br />
<br />
I groaned with embarrassment when I read the messages back the next afternoon. It took me a good twenty-four hours to stop vomiting in between bouts of fitful sleep, while Charlie gave me disapproving looks and then harangued me for driving drunk the night before. I finally choked down some toast last night, then spent a few hours practicing the guitar again before passing out once more.<br />
<br />
Today Charlie and I went fishing again, but with Jake’s dad, Billy Black, this time. Billy asked me all kinds of questions about The Wolf Pack’s progress. Jake had filled him in, but he liked hearing about their prospects from someone on the business end of things. It was strange to be that person -- the one sounding like an authority on something, while talking to my dad and the father of one of my old friends. It was the first time I realized I wasn’t really a kid anymore. I felt like one of the adults instead.<br />
<br />
It was late in the day and I was helping Charlie clean the fish we’d caught when he remembered the letter. Edward had written to me, old-school style, and sent it via snail mail to Forks. Dad hadn’t bothered to give me the letter while I was heaving all day long yesterday, but I wish he had. I would have made different plans for today. <br />
<br />
But maybe it’s better this way. I’ve come up with the perfect reunion for Edward and me, I think. I’ve already called Emmett to help me put my plan in motion. Edward will be so surprised. I have a big, stupid grin on my face just thinking about it.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I can’t stop reading his letter. Every time it hits me as hard as the first. See for yourself:<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Thursday, September 16<br />
<br />
Dear Bella,<br />
<br />
I know I told you that I needed time to get my thoughts together before I told you about my appointment today. But the truth is, writing them down is the way I’ve always sorted them out and made sense of them. I think -- no, I know -- you do the same. So I hoped you wouldn’t mind a letter from me while I attempt to figure things out.<br />
<br />
I’ve written to you every day this week. Since the moment you left, I’ve known that you are the only person I want to write to anymore. So I went and bought a new notebook after work on Monday. It’s nice, a real journal, with a white cover. I’m sure the shrink would tell me that my color choice was symbolic. I’m sure it probably was. New beginnings, clean slate and all that. <br />
<br />
But I decided to send this letter, because I want you to have it right now. I want you to know what’s been going on in my head. No more secrets, no more withholding. No more testing you to see what it will take to make you turn your back on me, thus “proving” to myself that I never deserved you to begin with. I’ve been very good at creating self-fulfilling prophecies the past few years.<br />
<br />
That’s just one thing the shrink made me see. I think you’d like her. She’s older, probably sixty-ish, with these eyes that crinkle up like walnuts when she smiles. She looks like someone who’s smiled a lot in her life, and I like that. She’s warm and easy to talk to, kind of like my Aunt Jeanne was.<br />
<br />
Even so, I was surprised at what happened when I met with her today. She had a cancellation after my appointment, so she let me stay there for two hours. I say “let me” because I was on some kind of crazy roll, talking my fool head off. So strange for me, the guy who’s so good at bottling everything up inside. But this time, everything came spilling out. What happened with Tanya and how much I let it derail my life. How I resented my parents, especially my dad, for their efforts to keep that from happening. Because if I had picked up the pieces and continued on the career path I had intended, it would have been like Tanya never happened, and I couldn’t allow that. Wallowing in the past and letting it ruin my life it was the only punishment I had for my perceived crimes.<br />
<br />
She never left a suicide note. Never blamed me for anything, nor forgave me for anything. She left no answers to my myriad questions “why?” So I answered them myself, or tried to. All those letters to her were just my way of trying to get answers that I can never have. Creating any kind of scenario more complex than the cause-and-effect finality of me telling her I didn’t care if she killed herself, and her going ahead with the deed. I was trying to be my own confessor, jury, judge, priest. . .you name it. I waged war on myself daily. And when you’re waging both sides of the battle, self against self, you can never truly win or lose. Never move on from the battlefield and just find peace.<br />
<br />
I stayed there because I thought that was all I deserved -- a purgatory of my own making, suitable for someone who’d be as callous and unthinking as I was the day I said those words to her. Like many a prisoner, I became accustomed to the captivity. It became the norm. I sought no conscious release from it.<br />
<br />
At least that’s what I always thought. But Norma -- that’s the therapist -- pointed out that it was no accident I went into massage therapy. I know that’s true. It was an easier path than getting my undergrad degree and then going to med school, but it would still allow me to heal people. And I figured out long ago that my desire to help others was mostly a futile stab at making up for the person I’d driven to destruction. <br />
<br />
But what I never realized was that I was subverting that healing from myself onto them. I still kept my old wounds festering close to the surface without even realizing it. Outwardly, I appeared to move on. I came out of isolation after a few months, went to massage therapy school, and befriended Kate. She was “safe,” non-threatening, because she would never want more from me than friendship. She got me socializing more, and so did Jasper, taking me to clubs and urging me to join him onstage. <br />
<br />
Before I knew it, I was back in a familiar groove, not that different from the one I was in before I met Tanya. I only dated women casually, never letting anyone inside. Because right there under the surface still lurked every ounce of pain and guilt I’d ever had over Tanya’s suicide. I picked at those wounds in secret every night, in the pages of that black notebook, never letting them heal. Making sure they held me tightly in that cocoon of carefully concealed self-loathing. I didn’t deserve to move on from that. I didn’t want to.<br />
<br />
And then I met you. I’ll never forget the day I first saw you, your pale skin gleaming in the glow from my desk lamp. I felt something I hadn’t felt in so long. I didn’t know why at the time. But when I touched you, I knew that there was as much pain inside you, right beneath that perfect porcelain, as I carried under my own skin. I was enthralled. And I was terrified. <br />
<br />
It only got worse the more I got to know you. The things you said in our first few meetings let me know just how much you and I had in common. I held you at bay because I knew that connecting with you would mean moving beyond my self-imposed prison. . .letting myself out of the cage, giving up the fight. I knew you were my empathy and my freedom and my salvation. <br />
<br />
And this whole time, I’ve never felt like I deserved to be saved.<br />
<br />
I know how angry everyone was that I didn’t press charges against Tanya’s father, but I also suspect you know exactly why I didn’t. He finally took my punishment out of my hands. I’ll never be able to describe what a relief it was to feel his fist slam into my face -- to have someone besides me place the blame squarely atop my shoulders and then knock it sideways. The catharsis I felt from that was the first taste of freedom I’d truly allowed myself, and the first time I began to fight back, at least in my mind, against the accusation that everything was all my fault.<br />
<br />
But the downside, of course, was what it did to you. I hate how I made you suffer by being a coward and not confessing everything to you earlier. The second I began to let go of the guilt over Tanya, I felt it attack me over my failings with you instead. It had happened before that, too. The night I tried to goad you into hitting me, into being my punisher. The times I pushed our sexual boundaries and demanded more of you than I had any right to. They were designed, subconsciously at the time, to provoke you into telling me what an asshole I am, so that I would be justified in my self-loathing and self-blame.<br />
<br />
But you never did that. You never let me sabotage myself that way. I know you never will. You see through me -- no, <i>into</i> me -- like no one ever has before. I knew all along that you would. And I knew just how badly I needed that. Needed <i>you</i>. Part of me was ready to accept it; to accept you and your love. The other part was determined to keep myself in that cage of my own making and make sure that I continued to suffer for my sins.<br />
<br />
I suspect that you’ve already figured all of this out. That you’ve seen it, or at least sensed it, all along. Before I delved this deep into myself, I was sure that you were the one who needed me. I was so focused on the idea of “fixing” you -- your body, your soul -- that I didn’t recognize just how much I was getting out of the deal. That’s not such a bad thing. You finally made me selfless for once in my life. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I’ve wanted you to be healthy and happy and whole again.<br />
<br />
But I know that you were afraid that if I didn’t look inside and see all the stuff that’s been going on there, it would come back to haunt us both. It broke my heart when you found my journal. Not because I was afraid of what you might read there, but because that old insecurity was back in your eyes -- the self-doubt I thought I’d helped you get over. I’ve never been able to understand why you don’t see the beauty in yourself that I see in you. It baffles me still. But then I realized that maybe that’s how you see me, too, so maybe I should start believing it. Believing that I’m worthy of your love. Worthy of forgiveness for past mistakes -- not just your forgiveness, but my own.<br />
<br />
So that’s what I’m working on now. Norma says I was already well on the way to making a lot of these breakthroughs on my own, especially after what happened with Tanya’s father. Those last weeks leading up to your birthday were like a ticking time-bomb. I had given myself a deadline to tell you everything, but Donnelly literally beat me to the punch. That old adage “everything happens for a reason” seemed to hold true that day. An act of violence wrenched my cage door open, but I’m counting on you to take my hand and help lead me out of it. <br />
<br />
I took the first step, or maybe the second, after I left Norma’s office. I went to the Admissions office at the University of Washington and picked up a course catalog. I’ve decided that I’m going to get my undergraduate degree, even if it takes me two more years of night school while I work to do it. I don’t know if I’ll go on to med school or not -- I haven’t thought that far ahead. But finally finishing what I started seven years ago seems like a good start.<br />
<br />
As for the therapy, I’m going to see Norma every Thursday afternoon for awhile. She thinks it would be a good idea for both us to visit her together some time. I told her I’d run it by you. Maybe she can help us really let go of all the old misplaced guilt instead of just giving it lip service. Maybe only time can really make that happen, but I still think that you and I can help each other more than anyone else ever could. We already have. There was definitely a reason that you came into my life when you did. I’ll be grateful for that -- for you -- every day of my life.<br />
<br />
I’m tearing these pages out of the new notebook to send to you, but the rest of my letters are here for you to read when you get back. This isn’t just my own journal I’m starting. I want it to be ours, to tell each other anything we might be thinking or feeling, no matter how awkward. Maybe that’s weird, wanting to share something like that with you. Diaries are supposed to be personal. But now that I’ve let you in to the darkest corners of my soul, I don’t mind the light shining on them anymore. Because with the light came warmth, and love. <br />
<br />
Bella, your love is the best gift I’ve ever received. I want to cherish it, and return it, with everything I have. No holding back any part of me anymore. What’s mine is yours. All you have to do now is claim it.<br />
<br />
Forever yours,<br />
Edward<br />
</i><br />
<br />
Can you believe him, mom? What guy has thoughts like this, and then sits down and wrestles them onto paper? I never knew it was possible for anyone to touch my heart the way he has mine. I literally ache for him, like part of me is missing while we’re apart. I don’t even know if it’s healthy or normal. I guess if I visit the therapist with Edward, we can find out together.<br />
<br />
But I don’t care, really. All I know is that I love Edward with everything I have in me, and I’m hanging on to him -- to us -- until my dying breath. <br />
<br />
This is where the difficult part comes in, because I’ve made a decision. <br />
<br />
This is the last letter I’m writing to you.<br />
<br />
Of course, I’ll still mutter to you whenever things are going wrong, and imagine you smiling down on me when everything’s great. But it’s time for me to stop turning to you to get me through the ups and downs of life. After all, if Edward is being brave enough to give up his crutch and count on me instead, then I need to step up and do the same.<br />
<br />
“Need” is the wrong word. I want to. I’m ready. You’re my past and my foundation; the amazing woman who made me what I am today. I’ll always love you more than words can say, for being the best mom, and friend, a girl could ever ask for. And I’ll always wish that Fate could have written a different ending for us, so that you could have been with me decades longer.<br />
<br />
But now it’s time for me to embrace my present and my future, and I know without question that they lie with Edward. There’s a new journal waiting for me, with tons of blank pages ready to be filled with a new story -- Edward’s and mine. I know that wherever you are, you’re excited for me. And you’re always welcome to read over my shoulder.<br />
<br />
I won’t say good-bye . . . just <i>au revoir</i>. Until we see each other again.<br />
<br />
I love you, Mom.<br />
<br />
~BellaGemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-43953513950640021142011-11-30T23:23:00.002-06:002011-12-05T00:18:39.031-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 23 - Texts<b><i>Text Messages</i><br />
Monday, September 13</b><br />
<br />
<b>12:25 p.m.</b><br />
Edward: Just got your voice mail. Wish I could talk to you in person but I know you’re driving. So glad you liked the birthday present. When I thought about what you’d really like, the guitar and sheet music was the best idea I could come up with. Drive carefully and remember to let me know when you get to your Dad’s. Love you.<br />
<br />
<b>2:41 p.m.</b><br />
Bella: Damn, we keep missing each other. I’m at a truck stop in BF Egypt, filling up the gas-guzzler. I think old Red gets negative miles to the gallon. The present was perfect. I promise you, I WILL make that guitar sing. Eventually. ;-)<br />
<br />
<b>4:57 p.m.</b><br />
E: I know you will. It’s later -- you should be in Forks by now. Please let me know when you get there safely.<br />
<br />
<b>5:20 p.m.</b><br />
B: I’m here. No problems on the road. How is your jaw?<br />
<br />
E: Hurts like hell. It’s good for me. I’m glad your trip was uneventful. I love you.<br />
<br />
B: Put ice on it again and take those pills your dad gave you. I love you, too.<br />
<br />
<b>11:03 p.m.</b><br />
E: Can’t sleep. Keep thinking about last night. I know you hate apologies, but I owe you one. Coming to your place and forcing myself on you like that was inexcusable, no matter how freaked out I was about the thought of losing you. As if pounding you into the headboard was going to keep you from leaving my sorry ass. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.<br />
<br />
B: You know I won’t. I love you. I knew what was going on with you. I pushed you into getting therapy; you pushed back. I would have stopped you if I’d wanted to. <br />
P.S. I’ll let you in on a little secret -- I like being pounded into the headboard. By you, anyway.<br />
<br />
E: Hate to tell you, but that’s not much of a secret. I may be oblivious to some things, but recognizing what turns you on isn’t one of them. The difference last night was that I didn’t pay attention. I was selfish. I took without giving. I’ll never do that to you again.<br />
<br />
B: Apology accepted. But I don’t accept the idea that you’ll never give me a good pounding again. In fact, I demand that you do. Just let me catch up next time.<br />
<br />
E: That is definitely something I can agree to. I look forward to it. So when is it that you’re coming back to Seattle?<br />
<br />
B: LOL Not sure. As much as I miss you, I think you and I both need this time apart. Just to think. Figure things out. I do, anyway.<br />
<br />
E: I know. You’re right. Do what you need to do. I promise to do the same.<br />
<br />
B: Love you. Good night.<br />
<br />
E: Sweet dreams, Bella.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Tuesday, September 14</b><br />
<br />
<b>7:45 a.m.</b><br />
E: Can’t stop thinking about you. I know what a hard day this will be for you. Call me if you need to talk. Hope you and your dad are doing okay.<br />
<br />
<b>2:13 p.m.</b><br />
B: Sorry I didn’t answer earlier. I was up and out in the wilderness at the ass-crack o’ dawn, believe it or not. Charlie wanted to take me fishing. It was kind of nice. Peaceful. Kept our minds off of things. We actually caught a few trout, so looks like I’ll be cooking tonight. Didn’t have any phone service out there to answer you ‘til now. Don’t worry, the day is going okay. Gonna call Phil in a bit and see how he’s doing. Thanks for checking up on me. You’re the best.<br />
<br />
<b>2:55 p.m</b>.<br />
E: I’ll always check up on you. Glad you and your dad are spending some quality time together. Makes me think I should do the same w/mine. I told him about the other night and let him check out my face, so you and Alice should be happy. He gave me the name of a good psychotherapist, BTW. I have an app’t. with her Thursday afternoon. Wish me luck.<br />
<br />
B: You won’t need luck. I know you hate doing this, but I have a strong feeling that you’ll be glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have pushed you so much. <br />
<br />
E: I know. I’m getting used to the idea. It’ll be a good thing, I think. You can say ‘I told you so’ later.<br />
<br />
B: I don’t need to. Just let me know how it goes. Good, bad or ugly, I want to know.<br />
<br />
E: You’ll be the first to hear about it. Hate to go but my next client is here.<br />
<br />
B: Go heal -- it’s what you do best.<br />
<br />
E: Guess we’ll soon find out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Wednesday, September 15</b><br />
<br />
<b>11:22 p.m.</b><br />
E: Just got back from Billy’s. Jazz and I did a little open mic action. Went well. Crowd was good. No tomatoes. NGL, Imma li’l drunk right now. Miss you. Bad. Why does whiskey make it worse? What are you wearing? Shit. Sorry. Meant to say, How was your day?<br />
<br />
B: LOL Glad to see you’re just a “li’l” drunk. Sorry I missed you and Jasper -- you know how much I love hearing you sing. Been practicing on the Martin all day long. I’m going to make you proud one of these days.<br />
<br />
E: You make me proud every day. And grateful. I don’t know why the hell you put up with me. <br />
<br />
B: Stop it. That self-deprecation is something you should ask the therapist about tomorrow.<br />
<br />
E: Don’t remind me. And BTW you should do that yourself. Makes me nuts when you get all insecure and think I won’t be satisfied with you or that I still love my dead ex-girlfriend. You need to get over that shit. If you could see inside my mind you’d know how consumed I am with thoughts of you. All hours of the day and night. If that’s crazy, I don’t care. Call me certifiable. I love you. I need you. I want you. Only you. Now tell me what you’re wearing for fuck’s sake.<br />
<br />
B: Wow. Remind me to get you to this exact level of intoxication next time we’re together. I’m wearing the same tank top and pajama pants I always wear to bed. Now go jerk off like a good, horny boy and then sleep it off. Don’t you have clients in the morning?<br />
<br />
E: Just a couple. Then I have app’ts. Very Important Appointments. Getting-My-Shit-Together-For-Bella Appointments.<br />
<br />
B: You mean for Edward. <br />
<br />
E: Fine. For both of us. I won’t apologize for doing it for you, too. Everything I do is at least partly for you. I’m hanging up now before I start spouting bad Bryan Adams songs.<br />
<br />
B: LOL God, I love you. When you’re whacking off tonight, imagine my mouth on you. Licking . . . Sucking . . . Swallowing. Deep. Sweet dreams, sexy man.<br />
<br />
E: Fuck. Me. How long does it take to drive to Forks? I’m ready to get in the car right now.<br />
<br />
B: You’re drunk as hell. Go to bed. That’s an order.<br />
<br />
E: I love Bossy Bella.<br />
<br />
B: I know. <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Thursday, September 16</b><br />
<br />
<b>6:30 p.m.</b><br />
B: Haven’t heard from you yet. Must admit I’m a little nervous. Please tell me how everything went with the therapist. How are you?<br />
<br />
E: Okay. Or at least, I will be. Sorry I didn’t call or text. Have a lot going on in my head right now. Trying to sort out my thoughts. When I do, you’ll hear from me, I promise. <br />
<br />
B: Okay. You’re scaring me a little. Was it that bad?<br />
<br />
E: Yes, and no. In the grand scheme of things, it was good. Just . . . difficult. But I expected it to be.<br />
<br />
B: I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do. Please call me if you want to talk.<br />
<br />
E: I will. I guess I’m the one who needs some time now. <br />
<br />
B: Fair enough. I’ll be here when you need me.<br />
<br />
E: I always need you. Don’t ever doubt that.<br />
<br />
B: Goes both ways. Only three days and I miss you like crazy.<br />
<br />
E: Only takes me about three hours. <br />
<br />
B: I know. Me too. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. Don’t know how many more contemplative walks in the woods I can take. It’s too green here. Gives me the creeps.<br />
<br />
E: LOL My nature girl. A little self-analysis goes a long way, doesn’t it?<br />
<br />
B: Yeah. It’s hard, but worth it. <br />
<br />
E: You’re right, I know. Perspective, and all that.<br />
<br />
B: Right. I’ll let you know when I’m coming home. Tomorrow night I’m meeting up with a few old classmates who are still here in Forks.<br />
<br />
E: Really? Anyone I should worry about? Mike Newton, perhaps?<br />
<br />
B: *snort!* No. And even if he were here, he’d be nothing for you to worry about. You know that. <br />
<br />
E: Yeah, I know. We both need to work on being secure in our relationship. <br />
<br />
B: You’re right, we do. Guess the therapist is doing her job. <br />
<br />
E: So far, so good. I promise I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I get my head together.<br />
<br />
B: No hurry. I’m not going anywhere, honest. Forks isn’t that far. I’ll be back soon. I miss you too much not to.<br />
<br />
E: Ditto. But I’m glad you did what you had to do. I think I’m ready to do the same.<br />
<br />
B: Good. I love you, Edward. <br />
<br />
E: I love you, too. That’s one thing I don’t need a shrink to help me figure out.<br />
<br />
B: :-)<br />
<br />
E: Back atcha, baby.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Saturday, September 18</b><br />
<br />
<b>1:57 a.m.</b><br />
B: Wee! My turn for drunk texts. Fuck I think the booze is stronger here than in Seatlte. Is that possible? <br />
<br />
E: I don’t think so. Unless some asshole slipped something in your drink. Who were you with?<br />
<br />
B: Eh, no one you know. Couple guys, Eric and Tyler and this bitch Lauren. She was a bitch in HS and she’s still a bitch. But even she wouldn’t slip sumthin in my dink. Drink. Shit. LOLOL No, I just had too much. Dumb drunking games. You know I cant play sports. Even bar sports. Fucking lose every tine.<br />
<br />
E: LOL Oh, my sweet girl. You are not going to be well tomorrow. Wish I was there to hold your hair back when you vomit, then make you greasy hash browns in the morning.<br />
<br />
B: Oh I already barfed once at the bar. Not prety. Made it to the toilet tho at least. Missed you all night. You shoulda seen the lozers in this place. Had to get drunk just to look at ‘em. Guh that’s mean! I’m so spoiled. You’re sexy as fuck. You know your the sexiest fucker I’ve ever seen with my actual eyes who wasn’t like on a movie screen somewhere. Fuck. I miss you. Picturing you naked now. Plz tell me you’r naked.<br />
<br />
E: Christ. I’m about to be. It’s not right that your drunk texts make me this hot. I see my swearing has been a bad influence on you. Even if I was there, it would be wrong to fuck you when you’re this drunk. But now that’s all I can think about.<br />
<br />
B: Mm Im thinking about it too. I’m lying face down on the bed . . . imagining you fucking me from behind. God that wuld feel so good right now. I’d get up on my hands and knees so you could push that cock aaalll the way in and fuck me deep and hard like I like it.<br />
<br />
E: Good God. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? <br />
<br />
B: Yes. If I have to be drink and horny an frustrated, you can at least be furstrated with me.<br />
<br />
E: Oh baby. That’s a given right now. Will be until you come back. When are you coming back?<br />
<br />
B: Um mebbe Sunday? Think tomorrow I might not feel so god.<br />
<br />
E: I think you may be right. Now it’s my turn to tell you to sleep it off while I go beat off again.<br />
<br />
B: Ill be beating off w/you.<br />
<br />
E: I think you’ll be passed out, but I appreciate the solidarity.<br />
<br />
B: No relly I will. Soon as I shut this phon. Fuck these buttins are tiny. Cnt see so good.<br />
<br />
E: LOL Good night, Bella. Try to take some aspirin with a big glass of water right now.<br />
<br />
E: Bella?<br />
<br />
E: Oh, honey. I’ll be thinking of you tomorrow when you’re in hangover hell. I love you. Good night.<br />
<br />
<b>2:41 p.m.</b><br />
E: Okay, it’s mid-afternoon and I still haven’t heard from you. Please just text me “Hi” so I know you’re alive.<br />
<br />
B: “Hi.” Barely. Death would be a sweet release.<br />
<br />
E: Sorry you’re so sick. Why the hell did you get so drunk without me around? <br />
<br />
B: Because there was nothing better to do. No one to stop me. <br />
<br />
E: Bad reasons. Imagine me giving you a nice neck massage . . . There. Does your head feel better?<br />
<br />
B: No. Imaginary massage is futile. Need the real thing.<br />
<br />
E: I can be there in a few hours.<br />
<br />
B: No. I’d die if you saw me this way. I smell like the bottom of a beer cask.<br />
<br />
E: Now you know why I slunk away from your place that first morning. Shame and self-loathing in Seattle.<br />
<br />
B: Now in Forks.<br />
<br />
E: Right. I’ll let you get your rest. Feel better, sweet Bella.<br />
<br />
B: Thanks. Maybe tomorrow.<br />
<br />
E: Definitely tomorrow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Sunday, September 19</b><br />
<br />
<b>4:02 p.m.</b><br />
B: I just read your letter. Well, it came in the mail yesterday, but I was so sick that Charlie didn’t bother me. The he went and forgot to give it to me until just now, the doofus. Edward . . . I don’t even know what to say. No, that’s not true. I have a million things I want to say to you, but not like this. It has to be in person. I would have left Forks today if I’d gotten your letter sooner. I’ll call you as soon as I get there tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you. I love you more than words could possibly express.<br />
<br />
E: I can’t wait to see you, either. I never knew a week could drag by so slowly. Next time I’m coming with you.<br />
<br />
B: There won’t be a next time. I’ll never leave you behind again.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-47317716357351513582011-11-26T20:03:00.001-06:002011-12-05T00:19:55.960-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 22 - Estrangement<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m2aDpTQsBE8/TtGZRljuTCI/AAAAAAAABQg/5Sqnkc0G18s/s1600/EW%2BBD%2Bscan%2Bcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="382" width="382" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m2aDpTQsBE8/TtGZRljuTCI/AAAAAAAABQg/5Sqnkc0G18s/s400/EW%2BBD%2Bscan%2Bcrop.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Monday, September 13 (cont’d.)</b><br />
<br />
When I woke up yesterday morning, the sun was high in the sky and Edward’s side of the bed was empty.<br />
<br />
I stretched and blinked, my mind blessedly blank for a minute. I simply luxuriated in my favorite king-sized cocoon, wondering idly if Edward was reading or checking email, or maybe attempting to make me breakfast. I giggled at the thought.<br />
<br />
And then the reality of the night before came rushing back to me, crushing my fleeting bliss with one swift blow.<br />
<br />
Much like the impact Mr. Donnelly’s fist had on Edward’s face, I supposed.<br />
<br />
I frowned and forced myself to sit up. I needed to go find him and make sure he was okay. I didn’t stop to think about whether or not I was okay. I was afraid if I allowed myself that luxury, I might not like the answer.<br />
<br />
When I reached the bedroom door, I heard the low murmur of Edward’s voice and followed it to the living room. He lounged on one end of the sofa, cell phone to his ear. He smiled -- then winced -- when he saw me. The crack in his bottom lip had darkened to an ugly scab, and the side of his face protruded slightly in a profusion of faint eggplant-colored bruises. I tried not to gasp at the sight, but the sound was out of my mouth before I could stop it.<br />
<br />
“Well, judging by Bella’s reaction, I’m a pretty sight this morning,” he quipped into the phone. He paused to listen, then added, “I know. All this from one measly punch. Which only proves what a complete pussy I am.”<br />
<br />
I gave him a reproachful look as I sat down facing him on the couch. I could hear his sister’s voice over the phone, and her tone matched my expression.<br />
<br />
“Alice says I’m a pussy, too,” Edward told me with a sly grin.<br />
<br />
Her violent protests were easy to hear through the tiny speaker. I gave his leg a reproving shove while he chuckled at us both.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I know,” he said to her in reply. “Bella thinks I should have had him arrested, too. But it only would have added fuel to the fire of his resentment. This way, he got in his last licks so maybe he can stop blaming me for everything. Well, as much as he’ll ever be able to.”<br />
<br />
He listened to her answer, then said, “I know he’s as much at fault as I am. That’s something he’ll have to live with for the rest of his life. It’s punishment enough.”<br />
<br />
He gave me a meaningful look and reached over to give my knee a squeeze.<br />
<br />
“Sure,” he said into the phone, then handed it to me. “Alice wants to talk to you. I’ll be back in a minute.” He gave me a light kiss on the forehead before rising from the couch and heading for the bathroom.<br />
<br />
“Hey Alice. Are you all settled in your new place?” I greeted her.<br />
<br />
“Moved in, yes. Settled, not so much. Jasper just left and I miss him already. Seems like some kind of freaky dream that I’m back in school. I mean, I just graduated, didn’t I?” she asked with a wistful laugh.<br />
<br />
“Well, I commend you for going back to finish your education. Getting a medical degree can’t be easy.”<br />
<br />
“No. Trust me, if it was, I’d have found a way to be licensed to practice already,” she said before changing the subject. “But forget about me and the fifty pounds of textbooks I just bought today. How are you doing? I can’t believe you found out about Tanya the way you did. I told Edward nothing good would come of his procrastination.”<br />
<br />
“I’m okay, I guess. I mean, I’m not the one walking around looking like a tenderized pork chop,” I joked weakly.<br />
<br />
“Not on the outside, anyway,” she replied insightfully. “If Edward had been up-front with you, maybe this would have been easier for you to deal with.”<br />
<br />
“Well, I’m not sure there ever would have been a good time for the discussion we had last night. But yeah, it was kind of a shock. I wish Edward would have pressed charges against Mr. Donnelly.”<br />
<br />
“I’m not surprised he didn’t,” Alice sighed. “In Edward’s mind, he had it coming. Knowing his guilt complex, it probably actually made him feel better.”<br />
<br />
“I think you’re right about that. And I get why he feels that way. But I just wonder if it’s going to change anything.”<br />
<br />
“Hmm. I don’t know,” she mused. “Edward’s been using the guilt as a crutch for a long time. It’s been a good excuse for him not to move forward with his life. But if anyone can give him a reason to change, it’s you.”<br />
<br />
“I hope so,” I replied. I wasn’t sure I wanted the onus of Edward’s recovery to be on my shoulders. I knew that if he really wanted to change, he’d have to want to do it for himself.<br />
<br />
“I know so,” Alice said confidently. “Now that everything’s out in the open, you two can start with a clean slate. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve never seen him the way he is when he’s with you. You make him happy like no one ever has before. Trust me, I know.”<br />
<br />
“My ears are burning,” Edward’s voice drifted over my shoulder. “Whatever my baby sister is saying about me, it’s a lie.”<br />
<br />
“I sure hope not,” I said as he resumed his place next to me on the sofa.<br />
<br />
“Wow, you mean she’s being nice for a change? She must miss me already. Or maybe it’s just pity.”<br />
<br />
“I do miss him,” Alice piped up in my ear. “I miss you both. You have to promise to email me and text me and tweet me. I swear I’ll answer, even if I only have time for two lines.”<br />
<br />
“You know I will, and so will Edward. You want to talk to him again?”<br />
<br />
“No, just remind him to have Dad check him out and give him the good drugs if he needs ‘em.”<br />
<br />
“Will do,” I said with a chuckle. <br />
<br />
We said our good-byes and I handed the phone to Edward. He set it on the coffee table and looked up at me cautiously, as if he was bracing himself.<br />
<br />
“How are you feeling?” I asked.<br />
<br />
He shrugged. “Sore. Apologetic.” He reached out to cup the side of my face briefly. “I’m sorry I put you through all that last night.”<br />
<br />
I shook my head firmly. “No more apologies.” I leaned in and gently stroked his injured jaw. “Alice said your dad can get you a prescription for some pain pills. Why don’t you call him?”<br />
<br />
He grimaced slightly. “Not necessary. I’ve got some leftover painkillers from a couple years ago when I sprained my wrist slamming one of Katrina’s fly balls.” He let out an embarrassed laugh.<br />
<br />
“Did you take some this morning?”<br />
<br />
“No.”<br />
<br />
I sighed in mild exasperation. “Typical man. Did you at least eat some breakfast? I can’t believe you let me sleep so late.”<br />
<br />
“I figured you needed it after taking care of me all night. I made myself a protein shake. I’m surprised the blender didn’t wake you. But the thought of chewing wasn’t terribly appealing to me, so . . .”<br />
<br />
I frowned and ran my thumb gently over his cracked bottom lip. “I could make you some soup for lunch, when you’re ready,” I offered.<br />
<br />
He smiled and pulled me close. “Sounds good. I might take you up on that offer.”<br />
<br />
We snuggled quietly on the couch for a bit. I was still feeling drained from the evening before; still feeling the aftershocks of Edward’s seismic admissions. He seemed subdued himself, his arms heavy and protective around me. I knew I could spend the entire day this way, wrapped in his embrace, and be content.<br />
<br />
“You know, I can postpone my trip to Forks,” I said at last, breaking the silence. “I don’t like leaving you like this.”<br />
<br />
“You don’t have to do that for me. I’m fine. I’ve endured worse.” He fingered his jaw, apparently examining the swelling.<br />
<br />
“So you won’t even miss me, then?” I teased.<br />
<br />
“I’ll miss you like crazy. You know that.”<br />
<br />
“Maybe you can come up next weekend and meet Charlie,” I said, then immediately wanted to bite my tongue off for suggesting it. I still had trouble envisioning the two most important men in my life spending more than about ten minutes in each other’s company without running out of things to talk about.<br />
<br />
“I’d love to meet your dad,” Edward said, with a little too much relish for my liking.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure you’ll win him over with your face looking like a mincemeat pie. Maybe we should wait until you’re healed.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, I’ll be good as new by next weekend,” he grinned. “Besides, he doesn’t know what the other guy looks like. I can make up a great story about how I defended your honor against some lowlife thug.”<br />
<br />
“Tanya’s father might as well be a thug. The guy is huge and he attacked you without any warning or way to defend yourself. You should have pressed charges,” I grumbled.<br />
<br />
Edward’s smile faded. “I just want it to be over now.”<br />
<br />
I gave him a relenting nod. “I know. I do, too.”<br />
<br />
“I’m glad we agree on that.” <br />
<br />
We shared a gentle kiss, and afterward I ran my finger over the hardness of his healing lip. <br />
<br />
“I hate that he did this to you,” I whispered. “Marred these sweet lips.” I kissed him softly again.<br />
<br />
“They’ll be good as new before you know it,” Edward assured me. “And when they are, I intend to put them to good use again.” His eyes traversed my body up and down, gleaming with that light I love so much. “But in the meantime, I’ll just have to use my fingers instead.”<br />
<br />
His hands were on me then, following the path his eyes had just roamed. I sighed with pleasure and let my own hands find the warmth of his skin under his t-shirt.<br />
<br />
“I wanted to end yesterday by making love to you all night,” he whispered, his fingers exploring under the hem of my borrowed shirt. “Best laid plans . . .”<br />
<br />
“Don’t let him ruin them,” I said. “We still have today.”<br />
<br />
He smiled and kissed me as well as he could, but the rumble of discomfort in his throat gave him away.<br />
<br />
“Sshhh,” I admonished, placing my index finger over his swollen lips to still them. “Let me do the work.”<br />
<br />
I placed my lips gently upon his before moving them to one side of his face, then the other. I made sure they were mere feathers on his bruised flesh. My fingers were silk ribbons, gentle and caressing, as I slowly undressed him and then myself. I allowed them to be firm only with his growing erection, stroking him to readiness before swinging one leg over his body and lowering myself upon him. <br />
<br />
We both sighed with satisfaction at the feel of him entering me. I pushed myself slowly down upon him, easing his thick length deep inside until my thighs met the warmth of his. His hands wandered over my body as I rode him at a leisurely pace, pushing down until he filled me completely before releasing him and beginning again.<br />
<br />
My moans became louder with each thrust of my hips against his, and he bucked upward to meet me with equal fervor, his gasps and groans matching mine as our pace quickened. I pressed my body into his, loving the hot silk of his skin on mine as his arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. <br />
<br />
I grasped his hair more firmly, and he nuzzled the undamaged side of his face against mine, his hot fingers gripping my ass while he thrust harder and harder into me. Passion had its way with us then, obliterating careful restraint as our bodies gave in to the insistent rhythm of lust. <br />
<br />
But when our eyes met through the blur of skin and sweat and the swinging locks of my hair, I saw so much more. I saw the truth. Or maybe I just saw what I always wanted to see.<br />
<br />
“You love me,” I gasped as I tightened all around him, clinging, coming.<br />
<br />
His gentle fingers gripped my skull, holding my face to his, willing the mirror of my love to reflect back into his gaze as my body unraveled all around him. <br />
<br />
“What gave it away?” he murmured with my beloved crooked grin as he rocked into me, still working toward his own release. My answering laugh was short, swallowed by the intensity of the moment. I circled my arms around his neck and held him close while his cock plunged up, up, up until I felt a second wave of tightness constrict my belly deep within.<br />
<br />
“You’re going to come for me again,” he rasped, his voice registering both appreciation and wonder. “Just one of the many things I love about you.”<br />
<br />
I could muster only a moan in response, too swept away by the burning between my thighs and the passion in Edward’s face. His brows furrowed, his breathing quickened, his cock throbbed into my burning flesh. I watched as his eyes squeezed shut just before I felt his sweet explosion, bathing me inside with liquid heat as his gasping breaths warmed my face. <br />
<br />
The burn within me ignited and my body became a dancing flame, crackling with bursts of energy around him. I clutched him closer, trying to still the trembling that shook me, but it was no use. My ecstasy repeated itself, stronger and more insistent this time, wringing soft cries from my throat as it had its way with me.<br />
<br />
“Fuck, I love the way you come,” he growled into my ear, and my fingers grasped his thick hair in response. <br />
<br />
“And I love the way you curse at me,” I replied between panting breaths. “Makes me know you really feel it.”<br />
<br />
He chuckled, his hot breath in my ear sending now-familiar but still effective shockwaves down my spine. “I’m such a romantic,” he joked.<br />
<br />
“You are,” I sighed as my body began to relax. “A dirty-talking, perverted romantic, but a romantic nonetheless.”<br />
<br />
“Much like yourself, Miss Swan,” he said with a devilish grin. <br />
<br />
“I learned from the master.”<br />
<br />
“So you’ve said. But I refuse to take full responsibility. I think I just bring out something that was inside you all along.” He was still grinning as he nuzzled my face once more. His breath was warm and soothing now.<br />
<br />
“I think you may be right,” I said quietly, pressing my lips to his temple.<br />
<br />
“Mmm,” he murmured into my cheek. “This is how yesterday should have ended.”<br />
<br />
I nodded my agreement. “Still, I’m glad everything’s out in the open now,” I said. I didn’t add that I wished he had trusted me enough to reveal the truth on his own. <br />
<br />
“I was a coward,” he admitted. “I should have told you sooner. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that.” <br />
<br />
“Remember what I said about apologies?”<br />
<br />
It was his turn to nod. We sat still awhile longer, enveloped in our usual post-coital glow. As much as I hated to tear myself away from him, the realization that I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet, let alone showered, began to creep and crawl over me.<br />
<br />
“It’s my turn to apologize, anyway. You must love me to put up with my morning breath this long,” I said with a grimace.<br />
<br />
“Bella, I think we’re far beyond that kind of superficiality,” he said dismissively.<br />
<br />
“Well, I’m still not beyond common courtesy. You’re all nice and clean and I’m . . . ” I trailed off with a shudder of distaste.<br />
<br />
“Delicious,” he asserted, burying his nose in my neck. “You have no idea how good you smell to me. Your hair . . . your skin. . .” He inhaled deeply for emphasis.<br />
<br />
I sighed contentedly and breathed his own heady scent into my lungs. “I feel the same way about you. But please, for my own sanity, you have to let me go shower.”<br />
<br />
He chuckled and eased his grip on me. “Fine. Don’t take too long.”<br />
<br />
“I won’t,” I promised. “When I come back, I’ll make you some lunch.”<br />
<br />
“Then definitely hurry. I can come help, if that will speed things up.” He waggled his eyebrow suggestively.<br />
<br />
“I’m pretty sure that would have the opposite effect.” I gave him a warning look as I disentangled myself from his embrace. I hated how cold and naked I felt after I pulled myself away from the warmth of his body. His face also registered disappointment at first; then his gaze turned admiring as it lingered over me before I turned and hurried to the bathroom.<br />
<br />
I brushed my teeth and showered quickly, anxious to get back to Edward. I donned the thick terry bathrobe he kept on a hook behind the door, then rummaged through his medicine cabinet until I found his prescription for Tylenol 3. I grabbed the bottle and took it back out to the couch, where he lay reading a classic rock magazine.<br />
<br />
“Quiz,” he announced as I approached. “What was the name of the club where the Beatles and the Stones first saw Jimi Hendrix play?”<br />
<br />
I didn’t miss a beat. “The Marquee Club in London, January of 1967. Here, take two of these immediately.” I shoved the prescription bottle at him.<br />
<br />
“God, I love you,” he said appreciatively at my knowledge of musical trivia. His smile faded as he took the bottle from me. “I don’t need these, Bella. I feel fine.”<br />
<br />
“You don’t know how much you tossed and turned last night, and how much you moaned in your sleep,” I argued. “You were in pain.”<br />
<br />
His frown turned to a resigned pout. “I’m sorry I kept you awake.”<br />
<br />
“Apologies . . .” I reminded him with a clucking noise. “You can make it up to me by taking some medicine.”<br />
<br />
His half-smile was more of an annoyed curl of the lip. “Remind me again why I like your bossy side. . . ?”<br />
<br />
“Because it’s always right. You’ll thank me later.”<br />
<br />
“I’ll be asleep later,” he groused. “Codeine knocks me out.”<br />
<br />
“You’ll heal faster that way.”<br />
<br />
He emitted a dubious-sounding grunt and reached for his coffee cup. I leaned down and gave him a quick kiss before heading to his bedroom to change into the clothes I had worn sailing the day before. Then I made my way to the kitchen, where I discovered that Edward had almost none of the necessary ingredients to make soup. <br />
<br />
“Do you have any broth or bouillon?” I called to him.<br />
<br />
I could hear his snort all the way across the room. “Open the second cupboard, middle shelf,” he directed me.<br />
<br />
When I complied, I was met with the sight of several cans of Campbell’s ready-to-eat soup. I laughed in spite of myself. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I told him.<br />
<br />
He grinned but didn’t leave his perch on the sofa. “Soup for bachelors. I’m used to it.”<br />
<br />
I shrugged and chose the chicken noodle variety, then warmed it in a pan while I fixed a grilled cheese sandwich. Edward peppered me with more music-related questions, which I answered with little effort. After I correctly identified the person for whom Robert Plant had written the lyrics to “All My Love,” Edward jumped off the couch and loped over to the stove.<br />
<br />
“Marry me,” he said in my ear, wrapping his arms around me. <br />
<br />
I ignored the pins and needles dancing down my spine and answered, “If I had known all it took was canned soup and grilled cheese to get you to commit, I wouldn’t have bothered with the home-made stuff.”<br />
<br />
“Right. You’re the commitment-phobe,” he accused playfully. He gave me a quick kiss before getting serving dishes and silverware out of the cabinets.<br />
<br />
“That’s not true,” I said in quiet denial. “If I ever hear a proper proposal, I’ll give you a proper answer.”<br />
<br />
I glanced at him in time to see one eyebrow raise in contemplation at me. He said nothing as we settled down to eat lunch at the bar. In fact, he was unusually quiet while we ate. By the end of the meal, he was yawning profusely.<br />
<br />
“Guess you were right about the codeine,” I said with a grin. I reached over and gave his neck a gentle squeeze. He eyed me with sleepy irritation.<br />
<br />
“I told you so.” His childlike response made my grin deepen.<br />
<br />
“Why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll clean up,” I offered.<br />
<br />
“Fine,” he agreed grumpily. “I’ll be a zombie the rest of the afternoon. Are you happy now?”<br />
<br />
“If it helps you relax and heal, then the answer is ‘yes.’”<br />
<br />
“Harrumph.” He gave me a cross look before hopping off the bar stool and disappearing to his bedroom.<br />
<br />
I soon found that I was grateful for a little time to myself. I was in a contemplative mood as I washed up the dishes. I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t more relieved now that the riddle of Edward’s past had been solved. Or had it? Maybe the uncertainty was what worried me as I nervously scrubbed every bit of his kitchen until it gleamed spotlessly.<br />
<br />
No matter what Edward said about not loving Tanya the way he did me, the truth was, he did love her at one time. He loved her enough to stick by her through some very tough times. And when she killed herself, the trauma of how she did it derailed his education. He switched careers entirely because of her.<br />
<br />
Even though my rational side told me that whatever they had was long ago and couldn’t touch us now, an irrational streak of jealousy still ran through me. I hated the thought that Edward had shared the kind of closeness we have with someone else. And I was more convinced than ever that the bond he’d had with Tanya was much stronger than the one I’d shared briefly with Mike.<br />
<br />
I tried to dispel my pointless fears by working my way around the rest of the loft. I found myself tidying up every corner of its considerable space while Edward napped, even though I can usually think of a dozen things I’d rather do than clean. I even fluffed and turned over the couch cushions, first in the living room and then the music room.<br />
<br />
That’s when I found the notebook.<br />
<br />
It was stuffed in between the arm and the far left seat cushion, just haphazardly enough that I didn’t know whether it fell in or was shoved there on purpose.<br />
<br />
I didn’t want to pry, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was where Edward kept his song lyrics. He still hadn’t written down the words to “Bella Notte” for me, and I was desperate to have them.<br />
<br />
I slowly opened the black leather cover and peeked at the top of the first page. What I saw there made my breath catch in my throat.<br />
<br />
<i>Dear Tanya</i>.<br />
<br />
I stared at the name, trying not to look at the message below it. Edward’s words to his deceased girlfriend were none of my business. And truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to read them anyway.<br />
<br />
I raised my eyes to the date at the top of the page instead. December 15 . . . nearly three years ago. Right after Tanya died. With trembling fingers I flipped the pages back to find the last entry. <br />
<br />
It was dated yesterday.<br />
<br />
I slammed the notebook shut. My heart sank and my stomach roiled as I stared down at it. Suddenly my formless fears had substance and shape. I literally held the considerable weight of them in my hands. I knew what I would find if I scanned the volume’s numerous pages. After all, I have a computer hard drive full of sentiments I can never send to you, Mom.<br />
<br />
I thumbed gingerly through the sheets of paper just long enough to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, each entry began with her name, or addressed her in some way. I closed the cover quickly before I was tempted to read any more. I didn’t want to invade Edward’s privacy like that, no matter how much my curiosity begged me to do it. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know why he wrote to her all these years. I desperately wanted to believe it was only guilt tying him to the past, but the pages I held in my hands taunted me with possibility of so much more.<br />
<br />
“Whatcha got there?” <br />
<br />
I jumped at the sound of Edward’s voice behind me, teasing and innocent though it was. When I turned so that he could see the notebook in my grip, his smile faded.<br />
<br />
“I didn’t read any of it,” I blurted instantly. “I found it in the sofa. I thought that maybe it was for song lyrics, but . . .” My voice faltered as our eyes carried on the rest of the conversation.<br />
<br />
“There are song lyrics in there,” he said at last, though he still looked guilty, even ashamed.<br />
<br />
“Like I said, I didn’t read it,” I reiterated softly. <br />
<br />
“I don’t mind if you do. Go ahead.” His tone was unconvincing.<br />
<br />
I frowned and shook my head. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”<br />
<br />
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping any more secrets from you.”<br />
<br />
I nodded in acknowledgement, but was still uneasy. I didn’t believe he really wanted me to read the letters, any more than I wanted to see whatever sentiments the pages in my hands contained. <br />
<br />
“I told you I do the same with my mom. I write to her all the time,” I reminded him. “Because I love her and miss her so much.”<br />
<br />
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, dead silence fell. I hadn’t meant them as an accusation, or even a question. But I knew now that I wanted -- <i>needed</i> -- an answer.<br />
<br />
Edward’s denial was swift. “That’s not why I wrote to her,” he said, a tad too defensively for my liking. “You have to believe that.”<br />
<br />
I held the notebook out to him, but he was slow to take it. His eyes were pleading.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I whispered.<br />
<br />
“It’s not the same,” he insisted, finally taking the book from my hands. “The reasons I wrote to her were not the reasons you write to your mother.”<br />
<br />
“No, they probably weren’t,” I conceded quietly. “She was my mom. My caretaker, my best friend. Tanya was your lover.”<br />
<br />
Edward stared at me in stone silence for a moment, his eyes filled with incredulous dismay. He shook his head in frustration, then shook the black-covered tome at me.<br />
<br />
“Read it, Bella. Read it and you’ll see. Since the day I met you, every entry in this journal has been about you. And that’s all this is -- a journal. All those letters to her were only a pretense. They were really letters to myself, trying to figure out how to get past everything. Trying to find some peace.”<br />
<br />
I didn’t reach for the notebook. I remained still, just looking at him. I wanted to understand the desperation in his eyes. <br />
<br />
“Did it work?” I asked him pointedly. <br />
<br />
His face fell. Asking the dead for forgiveness was a fool’s errand, and we both knew it. My mother’s death was unrelated to my relationship with Edward, other than my injuries being the catalyst that eventually led me to him. But the suicide of Edward’s first real girlfriend had directly affected his relationship with the next. Her specter still hung over us like a watchful moon, waxing and waning, but never truly gone.<br />
<br />
I wanted her gone. The question was, did Edward? <br />
<br />
When I realized what I was about to say to him, my gut churned. <br />
<br />
“You said that you tried to convince Tanya to see someone. To get some help with her problems,” I began tentatively. I didn’t need to finish the thought. Edward’s face darkened at the implication.<br />
<br />
“You think I need to see a shrink,” he stated. He tossed the journal in the direction of the couch, never taking his disillusioned eyes from mine.<br />
<br />
“Not necessarily,” I answered hastily. “Maybe just a grief counselor or something. I’m just afraid that this --” I motioned to the notebook where it lay on the couch -- “is bigger than me. Bigger than the both of us.”<br />
<br />
“You’re wrong. Nothing is bigger than us.” Edward shook his head in denial. “Besides, I tried counseling. It didn’t do one fucking bit of good.”<br />
<br />
“But maybe it will now,” I persisted. “Now that you’re in a better place. Now that you have a reason to let go of the past once and for all. At least, I hope you do,” I added uncertainly.<br />
<br />
“Of course I do. I am letting go of it. Last night was a huge step for me, whether you know it or not.” <br />
<br />
“Then take the next one. Don’t stop now,” I implored.<br />
<br />
His face twisted in pain and frustration. He looked like he was fighting back tears, or maybe angry words. I hated feeling like I was giving him an ultimatum, but I had to know that Tanya’s ghost wasn’t going to come between us any longer. I had to be sure that he was willing to let her go.<br />
<br />
“You told her that you felt like you couldn’t help her -- that it was beyond your capability,” I reminded him. “Well, that’s kind of how I’m feeling right now. I just think it would help you to talk to someone completely objective, who can help you sort out why you’ve held onto the guilt for so long. Look how many pages you filled trying to be your own therapist, and where did it get you?”<br />
<br />
He was definitely fighting back tears now, and so was I. I knew this was not what he wanted to hear. It broke my heart to say the words. But I knew I couldn’t go forward with him until he was able to move forward himself.<br />
<br />
“I told you I’d do anything for you,” he said, his voice tight. “If that’s what you need, then I’ll do it.”<br />
<br />
“I think it’s what <i>you</i> need. I want you to do it for yourself. You need closure.”<br />
<br />
“I need you.” His words were strangled; his eyes, pleading. I grabbed both his hands in mine and squeezed them tightly.<br />
<br />
“You have me. Don’t ever doubt that. But right now, I think you need more. I think you need something I don’t know how to give you. I don’t know how to make you forgive yourself, or stop begging a ghost for absolution.”<br />
<br />
“You should know better than anyone else exactly why I did it. You still write to your mother. You haven’t let that go.” But his accusation was half-hearted. We both knew how different that was from being bound to the memory of someone whose final act was designed to tie him to her forever with tethers of guilt and recrimination.<br />
<br />
“I’ll never let go of my mom completely because I’ll never stop loving her,” I said. My hands went limp in his. I swallowed hard and forced myself to voice my worst fears. “I know you love me. I just don’t know how much you still love Tanya.” Her name left an acrid taste in my mouth.<br />
<br />
Edward’s eyelids squeezed shut and his head shook slowly back and forth. He gripped my hands more tightly, forcing them to fight back. His expression was almost infuriated.<br />
<br />
“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t love her? That I stopped loving her long ago?” He let go of my hands and clutched the sides of my face instead. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I love only you?”<br />
<br />
I fought back tears of my own as I brought my hands to his, gentling his grip on me.<br />
<br />
“I know you love me,” I reiterated. “But love can’t always fix everything.”<br />
<br />
The fury in his countenance finally won. “That’s bullshit!” he exclaimed. He abruptly let go of my face and took a step back. “Love is all there is, Bella. It’s the only thing that can fix <i>anything</i>. It’s the only reason to even try.”<br />
<br />
“Then love yourself enough to try. Before you met me, you spent the past three years beating yourself up over what happened. So now that you finally got someone else to do it, you think that’s the end of it? One punch in the face and you’re completely over it?”<br />
<br />
“I am over it!” he shot back vehemently. He turned away from me, gripping his head in his hands, his fingers raking roughly through his hair. He took several deep breaths, seeming to will himself to calm down.<br />
<br />
When he turned to face me again, his words brimmed with unwilling resignation. “I don’t blame you for doubting me. I brought it on myself by keeping things from you. I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust. I’ll call and make the appointment tomorrow.”<br />
<br />
His face was still twisted in bitterness, and I felt queasy. If he was this unhappy about the prospect of getting help, I didn’t know how much good it would do.<br />
<br />
“Please don’t do this just for me,” I begged quietly. “Please do it for yourself.”<br />
<br />
“I’m doing it for us,” he said. His eyes grew apprehensive. “Assuming there still is an ‘us.’”<br />
<br />
“Of course there is,” I asserted quickly. <br />
<br />
But though we stood mere feet apart, the divide between us had never felt wider. <br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
It was ten o’clock last night when I heard the front door bell, followed by a series of insistent knocks. <br />
<br />
“Just a minute!” I hollered from my bedroom as I packed the last of my underwear and socks in my suitcase. I had left Edward’s place shortly after our argument, claiming I had laundry to do before packing for my trip to Forks. He let my lame excuse slide. I figured maybe he was glad to be rid of me. <br />
<br />
I worried all night that he was still upset with me for essentially forcing him to go into therapy. Had I done the right thing? I wasn’t sure. I’d always thought counseling had helped me, yet I still had a breakdown of sorts the night I almost ran over Lucky. I was afraid that if Edward didn’t deal with the emotional fallout of what had happened with Tanya, it would still rear its ugly head in some awful way that I could not predict.<br />
<br />
I hurried to the front door and undid the safety chain. “Did you forget your keys?” I asked with a laugh, expecting to see Angela’s face when I opened the door. <br />
<br />
Instead I saw Edward’s bruised, rain-soaked countenance staring down at me.<br />
<br />
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. He was staring at me with an intensity that shook me to my core. His lips quivered as if he wanted to say something as well, but only a shaky breath escaped. He took my face in his wet hands and drew me to him, kissing me fiercely. The dried blood on his lip was rough against my skin, but I opened my mouth to his insistent tongue and let it begin the familiar dance with mine. <br />
<br />
Edward fell back against the door, shutting it and pulling me against him. My fingers were quick to bury themselves in his wet hair. It dripped on my forehead as he kissed me harder, whimpering with pain or need, I wasn’t sure which. My own clothes became soaked next to his, but I knew it was no matter. He was already pushing them out of the way, his hands finding my skin beneath with hot assurance. I pulled at the damp flannel shirt covering him, and he let go of me long enough to free his arms of it before crushing me to him again. <br />
<br />
Before I knew it, he was lifting me off the ground and my legs instinctively wrapped around him. He carried me back to my bedroom and fell with me upon the bed. We were reduced to a frantic tangle of wet fabric and warm skin as we writhed and groped at one another.<br />
<br />
As soon as our clothes were removed and thrown in all directions, Edward was inside me. I gasped loudly as his thick cock impaled me, thrusting so hard and deep that my hands flew up to the headboard behind me to brace myself. His hands covered my own in seconds, fingers curling possessively around mine as he drove deep again. I cried out at the suddenness of his attack, surprised but not unwilling as he began drilling me with rhythmic precision.<br />
<br />
The air was filled with nothing but my continued cries and his grunts as he plunged into me with the intensity of a pile driver. His eyes were wild, desperate, hungry, guilty . . . so many things at once that I could only stare up at him helplessly while he pinned me in place and fucked me senseless.<br />
<br />
My body was beginning to stir in response, my insides squeezing us both to an impending climax , when he suddenly switched tactics. I gasped with shock again when he withdrew, moving his hands and ravaged lips down my body instead, stroking and tonguing me until my moans were as low and urgent as his own. Only when I felt his mouth between my legs, leaving a slick film in its wake, did I realize what he was about to do.<br />
<br />
He rose up on his haunches and stared down at me, his expression alternately asking permission and demanding submission. I closed my eyes and waited for the last wall between us to be torn asunder.<br />
<br />
The tip of his cock was not unwelcome against my back entrance. Warm and wet, it pushed its way slowly, ever so slowly inside, and I was ready for it. <br />
<br />
At least, I thought I was. I still yelped in pain when its full girth stretched my opening beyond its previous limits. Edward stopped a moment, his fevered eyes registering momentary apology; but when my initial pain had subsided, he pushed on until I let out a long breath of relief. As before, pleasure had soon replaced pain, and I moaned softly in time with the slow, gentle rhythm he began.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t long before I grew used to the sensation of him filling me this way, and his pace increased, as did his groans of pleasure. I studied the grateful arousal in his eyes as he watched his cock disappear again and again in my ass, and I wondered why this somewhat taboo pleasure was such a turn-on for him. I had to admit that it was becoming a bit of a turn-on for me as well, though it wasn’t as intensely pleasurable as regular sex was for me. I knew it would take me longer to find satisfaction this way. <br />
<br />
As if reading my mind, Edward let one of his hands wander from its perch on my thigh down to my sex, stroking and fingering my clit while he continued to pump his cock deep inside my rectum. My body writhed in response, the combined sensations thrilling me in a whole new way. The fervor of Edward’s movements increased, and the more I moaned, the faster he stroked and entered me.<br />
<br />
When I reached up to run my hands over the planes of his torso and belly, he sighed with a shudder and fell into me, pressing his body against mine as his tempo increased. He was beyond control once more, thrusting into me with the same abandon he had before, but without the same results. My orgasm was elusive now that he had removed his hands from my clitoris, and while his body rose to a fever pitch of ecstasy, mine could only lag behind and enjoy his release.<br />
<br />
His euphoria was short-lived when he realized that, for the first time, I had not met him at that pinnacle. The satisfied conqueror soon became the penitent thief. <br />
<br />
His first words since he arrived were ones of trepidation. <br />
<br />
“Did I hurt you?” he whispered. He pulled out, but didn’t pull away.<br />
<br />
“No. You were amazing.”<br />
<br />
“You didn’t come.” His face was stricken.<br />
<br />
“I would have,” I assured him quickly. “It was just taking me a little longer, that’s all.”<br />
<br />
“Why didn’t you stop me?”<br />
<br />
I smiled gently. “I didn’t want to.” I couldn’t find the words to tell him how fiercely beautiful his passion was to me.<br />
<br />
He shook his head in bewilderment. “I would have waited for you.”<br />
<br />
“I didn’t want you to wait. If I had, you would have known it.”<br />
<br />
I reached up and wiped the sweat and rain from his face. He stroked my hair and gently kissed me. His eyes were filled with conflicting emotions again, and they darted all over my face, looking for an outlet. His lips found mine again, and yet again, perhaps trying to wordlessly express feelings that were too complex, too deep, to verbalize. <br />
<br />
I had no energy for words myself. I held him while he buried his face in my neck and curled himself like a fetus around me.<br />
<br />
“Please let me stay with you tonight,” he murmured.<br />
<br />
“There’s nowhere else I’d want you to be,” I answered truthfully. <br />
<br />
I waited until he was asleep before I gently withdrew from his embrace and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. I was a little sore, but perversely, I liked the sensation.<br />
<br />
When I returned to the warmth of Edward’s arms, I covered his bruises with tiny kisses before I fell into an exhausted sleep.<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
“Happy Birthday, Bella.” <br />
<br />
The whisper of Edward’s velvet voice woke me from my slumber this morning. I smiled and opened my eyes to the gorgeous sight of him grinning down at me. <br />
<br />
“Thanks,” I said. I stretched and began to prop myself up on my elbows.<br />
<br />
“No, don’t get up. You deserve to sleep in. I want you to get your rest before you have to drive all afternoon.”<br />
<br />
“You’re too good to me,” I protested sleepily.<br />
<br />
“I wish that were true,” was his characteristic reply.<br />
<br />
I sighed and reached up to trace the purple stain that still sullied his perfect skin.<br />
<br />
“Your face looks a little better.”<br />
<br />
“It feels a little better,” he conceded.<br />
<br />
“You’ll have fun explaining this to your clients today.”<br />
<br />
“I think the knuckle-shaped bruises will do the talking for me,” he said ruefully.<br />
<br />
My eyes swept over his lithe form leaning over me. He was already dressed and ready to leave for work.<br />
<br />
“I’ll miss you,” I murmured, running my fingers over his healing bottom lip.<br />
<br />
His hand stroked my face, mimicking my movements. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you believe in me again,” he promised.<br />
<br />
“I never stopped believing in you. I just want you to believe in yourself.”<br />
<br />
His lips pursed slightly in doubt, but he nodded. He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead.<br />
<br />
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath warm on my skin.<br />
<br />
“I love you.”<br />
<br />
“Drive safely. Promise you’ll call me the minute you get to Forks,” he ordered.<br />
<br />
I smiled at the over-protective Edward I know and love. “I promise.”<br />
<br />
The twist of his sad smile and the gait of his long legs were the last things I saw as he closed the bedroom door behind him. I reached for the pillow he’d slept on and pulled it close, burying my face in its musk. Breathing his scent in deeply, I fell asleep again.<br />
<br />
I was unconscious until mid-morning. The blanket of gray smothering the sky had been ineffectual at waking me. I lay still for a moment, trying not to think about the fact that the weather matched my mood. It seemed apropos for my birthday. A dark cloud descended over September thirteenth when I lost you the next day.<br />
<br />
I dragged myself out of bed and was trudging in the direction of the bathroom when something caught the corner of my eye. I started violently when I turned and saw a strange head-like shape protruding over the back of the sofa. My relief was profound when I finally realized what it was: the top of a guitar case.<br />
<br />
I padded across the hardwood floor to the rug in front of the couch. Propped up at one end was a very new, yet very familiar guitar case, wrapped in an enormous red bow.<br />
<br />
“Oh no, you didn’t,” I whispered to myself, since Edward was nowhere near. A small ivory card with my name written on it was tucked under the bow. I pulled the card out, my fingers shaking for no good reason as I removed it from its envelope.<br />
<br />
The antique cream-colored paper was embossed with an ornate treble clef sign and musical notes on the front. The card was blank, save for Edward’s elegant scrawl inside: “This belongs to you more than it ever did to me. I know you can make it sing. Happy Birthday, Bella. I love you. Edward.”<br />
<br />
My eyes were already brimming with tears as I opened the snaps of the guitar case and let the lid fall open against the back of the couch. Even though I knew what I would see, I still let out a tiny gasp as the dull gray morning light glinted softly off the glossy wood of Edward’s -- now <i>my</i> -- Martin acoustic guitar.<br />
<br />
I carefully pulled the instrument from its container, teary-eyed and grinning like a loon at Edward’s thoughtfulness and generosity. As I strummed my fingers along the perfectly-tuned strings, the wonderful memories of that guitar replayed in my head. The night Edward performed the song he’d written just for me; the next day when he taught me how to play it myself. I blinked back the moisture in my eyes so that I could find the proper frets to form some chords. The progression I played was the beginning of my song; our song. I had practiced what I could remember of it, but he still hadn’t given me any sheet music for his composition.<br />
<br />
That’s when I caught sight of something else in the bottom of the guitar case. Another ribbon, pale blue this time, was tied loosely around several large pieces of paper that matched the ivory of the card Edward had given me. I leaned down and grasped the pages, sliding them out of their silky tie. They were bound on one side by fabric tape. The cover contained only a few words, in Edward’s signature script:<br />
<br />
“For Bella, the light that leads me out of my darkness. I will love you always. Edward.”<br />
<br />
When I opened the bound pages, my tears fell freely. There, written in Edward’s meticulous hand, were the entire guitar tablature, melody line and lyrics to “Bella Notte.” I sat with a thud on the sofa, re-reading every word he had written to me in that song. In light of what I now knew, his words touched me more deeply than I had ever thought possible. They broke my heart, then healed it, in the space of two verses and choruses.<br />
<br />
Once I had managed to pull myself together, I searched for my phone and called Edward. A text message wasn’t enough this time. I got his voice mail, and I gushed my heartfelt thanks in broken, sniveling words.<br />
<br />
“Edward, this is so beautiful. The best birthday present I’ve ever gotten. You are too good to me, no matter what you say.” I paused and added, “Just be good to yourself now. Please. I’ll be back before you know it. I love you. So much.”<br />
<br />
Tears pricked at my eyes again. Even though I truly believed Edward and I needed this break from each other, I knew that getting in my truck and leaving him behind, even for a week, would be the hardest thing I’d done in a long time.<br />
<br />
When I packed up my rusty old truck for the trip to Forks, I included my new guitar. I figured I’ll have plenty of time to practice in the coming week. If Edward thinks I can make it sing, then I intend to do just that.<br />
<br />
He’s not the only one who has something to prove.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-4435559609650782132011-11-06T09:01:00.001-06:002011-11-06T18:29:45.954-06:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 21 - Atonement<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-liDjlKZTRyc/TrafarXVGnI/AAAAAAAABQU/7cQOI1z00EA/s1600/RM%2BRob%2B234%2Bcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="331" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-liDjlKZTRyc/TrafarXVGnI/AAAAAAAABQU/7cQOI1z00EA/s400/RM%2BRob%2B234%2Bcrop.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Monday, September 13</b><br />
<br />
Happy Birthday to me.<br />
<br />
My birthday hasn’t been a day to celebrate in years, so I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different. Maybe because I had found love and happiness--the kind I never really dreamed I’d have. Or because I thought love could fix all the bad stuff, or at least make it bearable.<br />
<br />
Maybe it can. Maybe it just needs time to work its magic, to let its healing fingers repair the damage.<br />
<br />
That’s what I’m hoping as I stare out my bedroom window, feeling sixteen again. Feeling just like those first days when I stared hopelessly through these glass panes, wondering when I would feel whole again. Normal again. Happy again.<br />
<br />
I’m thinking of Edward right now, of course. Always. I can see him in my mind’s eye, looking out his own rain-spattered window, absently stroking Lucky’s fur. I know he’s as miserable as I am, and it hurts me more than my own pain. My jaw ached every time I pressed the ice pack to his face Saturday night. He winced, I winced. <br />
<br />
I understood then why he tried to spare me. He must have known how his own pain would cut me to the bone; how acutely I would suffer with him as he relived his horror, wallowed in his guilt. And yet it was a catharsis that neither of us could escape. We simply had to soldier through it.<br />
<br />
I reminded myself how I’d relied on his strength to come to grips with my own past; to admit to him my own culpability, no matter how misplaced. And so I shored up my own reserves and stood strong for him so that he could do the same. I thought it would kill me inside, but I did it. I would do anything for him. <br />
<br />
Now it’s his turn to do the same for me.<br />
<br />
“You okay, Bells?”<br />
<br />
The familiar, gentle gruffness of Charlie’s voice interrupted my thoughts. He leaned in my bedroom doorway, a look of concern furrowing his forehead.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, Dad. I’m going to be.”<br />
<br />
He nodded. “We can talk more in the morning. Or now, if you want. You just let me know.”<br />
<br />
I gave him a grateful smile. “Tomorrow’s good. I’m pretty beat.”<br />
<br />
He came into the room then and approached the desk chair where I sat; the chair in which I’d done my homework throughout my high school years, and wrote to you, Mom. He leaned down and kissed me gently on the temple. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and said, “It’s going to work out. You’ll see.”<br />
<br />
I looked up at him with a modicum of surprise. Charlie wasn’t known for his cheerful optimism. <br />
<br />
“You think so?”<br />
<br />
“From what you’ve told me, yeah. I think so. Seems like this Edward has his heart in the right place. He was trying to spare you from things that had nothing to do with you; things you can’t do anything about now. Don’t know that I would have done any different myself.”<br />
<br />
My surprise grew. Maybe he and Edward would get along better than I ever dreamed. <br />
<br />
“Thanks, Dad.” I pressed my hand over his for a moment while he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly once more. He gave my hair a quick pat before leaving the room and heading off to bed.<br />
<br />
Today was a bit of a revelation. Charlie and I aren’t much for words, but as soon as he gave me a bear hug in greeting, I felt hot tears spill from my eyes, followed by words from my lips. When he asked me what was wrong, the floodgates opened. I told him everything, from my troubles with Rosalie to my heartbreaking weekend with Edward. My poor dad had never gotten such an earful from me. But without you around, and Angela at Ben’s all weekend, I had nowhere else to turn. <br />
<br />
Charlie was great. He listened; he nodded, hummed and grunted in all the right places. And now, he reassured me about Edward. Amidst the turmoil of my life, my relationship with my father has been an unexpected bright light. We reached a new level of closeness because of it. Bet you’re surprised to see that from your perch up there in the clouds, or wherever you are.<br />
<br />
I can’t see the clouds now, but I know they’re out there. All I see is black; all I hear is the raindrops tapping a steady rhythm against the pane. I wonder if it’s raining in Seattle, or if Edward’s looking out at a starry night sky. He’d probably prefer the clouds right now. <br />
<br />
I already had a text message from him when I arrived earlier. <br />
<br />
<i>Please let me know when you get there safely.</i><br />
<br />
I answered immediately. <i>I’m here. No problems on the road. How is your jaw?</i><br />
<br />
<i>Hurts like hell. It’s good for me. I’m glad your trip was uneventful. I love you.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Put ice on it again and take those pills your dad gave you. I love you, too.</i><br />
<br />
I had thought it was bad when Alice hit Rosalie last Monday, but I was horribly naïve. I found out what real violence looked and sounded like when Tanya Donnelly’s father laid into Edward. The last time I’d felt terror like that was the accident. I had hoped I’d never have to see someone I love splattered with blood ever again -- hoped I’d never have to wear that blood myself. But Donnelly’s mammoth fist propelled a crimson gush from Edward’s mouth that spattered us both as he fell into me.<br />
<br />
I shuddered now at the memory, but couldn’t keep myself from reliving it. Couldn’t stop remembering how Edward fought to keep his balance instead of knocking me sideways; how I tried in vain to steady him when that brute literally knocked him off his feet. I watched in horror as Edward’s eyes began to roll back in his head before his body slumped to the floor.<br />
<br />
But I’ll never forget that second of clarity in his eyes, nor that macabre smile that twisted his lips, as he rasped his appreciation for the punishment he’d been craving for so long.<br />
<br />
Edward actually said “thank you” to the man who knocked him out cold.<br />
<br />
I wanted to throw myself at Donnelly and pummel him with my fists. Spit on him and claw at him and make him pay somehow for the damage he’d just inflicted. <br />
<br />
But all I could do was scream while several club employees restrained him and kept him from coming at Edward again. Donnelly even tried to kick Edward as they dragged him away, and I glared in loathing at the man who would literally kick someone while he was down. Then I fell to my knees beside Edward and tried to roll him over. A waiter materialized on the other side of him and helped me. My relief was profound at the groan Edward emitted, and the flutter of his eyelashes, when we moved him. <br />
<br />
His eyes were unfocused for a moment, but he squeezed my hand when I grabbed his.<br />
<br />
“Bella?” he whispered, turning his head in my direction.<br />
<br />
“I’m right here,” I told him, reaching out my other hand to smooth his hair and stroke the untouched side of his face. <br />
<br />
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.<br />
<br />
“Don’t be,” I told him. “Just lie still until we get you some help.”<br />
<br />
The next hour was a blur of tennis club employees coming to Edward’s aid, followed by the arrival of the police. A sports medicine expert on staff checked Edward out in the infirmary, packing his mouth with gauze and thankfully determining that all of Edward’s teeth were still intact. He said he didn’t think that the split in Edward’s lip would need stitches, but that it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor and dentist in a couple of days to make sure everything was healing properly.<br />
<br />
Once Edward came to, he looked annoyed, or maybe embarrassed, by all the attention. He waved the medical attendant away and assured the police that he didn’t need an ambulance. When I suggested that he should go to the hospital to make sure he didn’t have a concussion, he gave me a look so baleful that I quickly bit my lip. Apparently his pride had been just as wounded as his face.<br />
<br />
Still, he refused to press charges against Tanya’s father. The club higher-ups promised that they would take punitive action against him, and I almost snorted out loud at the suggestion. Suspending Donnelly’s membership would be a useless slap on the wrist.<br />
<br />
“Edward, he assaulted you,” I pleaded with him. “Have him arrested, for God’s sake.”<br />
<br />
He glared again, a warning look the likes of which he’d never directed at me. “Leave it alone, Bella. There’s no point. What’s done is done.” His voice was thick with the effort it took to speak through his gauze-filled wound.<br />
<br />
He looked stubbornly up at the cops from the cot where he lay, half propped-up on pillows, while he held a cold compress to his swelling jaw. <br />
<br />
The sports medicine guy piped up then. “Mr. Cullen, you should reconsider. If Mr. Donnelly had aimed about three inches higher, you might not be talking to us right now.”<br />
<br />
My heart rate doubled at the meaning of his words. If Tanya’s father had punched Edward hard enough in the temple . . . No, it was unthinkable.<br />
<br />
“Well, he didn’t. No permanent damage was done.” Edward’s eyes drifted; settled on the empty air in front of him. “We’re even now,” he muttered softly.<br />
<br />
I shook my head in frustration. Edward’s refusal to push the issue left no other recourse but to release him, and worse yet, Tanya’s father. As disillusioned as I was that Edward had kept so much from me, I was much more furious at Donnelly for the way he behaved. If Tanya had taken her own life, then Edward was merely a convenient target upon whom to vent his pain and anger. He should be forced to own up to his misplaced aggression and face the consequences.<br />
<br />
But Edward let him off the hook.<br />
<br />
The club staff insisted on sending us home in a cab, following behind with Edward’s car. We sat hand in hand, wrapped in a stifling blanket of silence. Edward stared dully, unseeing, at the back of the driver’s seat while his other hand pressed the cold pack to his face. I couldn’t stop glancing at the spots of dried blood on his shirt collar. I couldn’t wait to get him back to the loft so I could get us both some clean clothes.<br />
<br />
I went into mothering mode the minute we stepped inside the door. I took the ice pack from him and put it in the freezer to make it cold again. He followed me to the bedroom and watched from the doorway as I rifled through his drawers and got us both fresh clothes to wear. Then he let me lead him to the bathroom, where I undressed him and cleaned him up with a washcloth. It was the first time that there was no sexual intent in my actions, and none in his reactions. He simply looked resigned as I washed the blood away from him and then from myself. I helped him dress; he finally came to life and did the same for me, holding my favorite worn t-shirt of his over my head so that I could put my arms through the holes.<br />
<br />
“Do you want to go to bed? Or sit up for awhile?” I asked him when we were done. <br />
<br />
“Let’s go sit in the living room,” he mumbled thickly. His face was red and swollen; his eye socket turning a faint blue. It ached to look at him, his beauty even more poignant to me now that it was marred and twisted with pain. I took his hand and led him out to the couch.<br />
<br />
“You sit down while I get the ice pack,” I ordered, dropping his hand.<br />
<br />
“No, that can wait. My face is still completely numb.”<br />
<br />
“Then let me get you some pain pills for when the cold wears off.”<br />
<br />
He shrugged and slumped on the sofa while I rounded up some Advil and a glass of water. I administered the drugs and sat facing him on the couch while he swallowed and then cringed at the effort. I took the glass from him when he was finished and set it on the coffee table, then reached over and gently stroked his hair.<br />
<br />
“Please stop taking care of me,” he mumbled wearily.<br />
<br />
“I’ll never stop taking care of you. I love you.”<br />
<br />
His eyes closed and he slowly shook his head. “Why?”<br />
<br />
I sighed and continued to finger his hair. “I have no idea.”<br />
<br />
His grin was short-lived before it turned to a grimace. “Don’t make me laugh.”<br />
<br />
“I doubt I can right now,” I answered frankly.<br />
<br />
He was quiet for a moment, that faraway look in his eyes again. He blinked and returned to the present.<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry I put you through that,” he said with a penitent sigh. “You shouldn’t have had to find out about Tanya that way. I don’t know why I couldn’t seem to tell you everything before.”<br />
<br />
“I do,” I answered. “Remember who you’re talking to? I know how much it hurts.”<br />
<br />
It was his turn to reach out and take a few strands of my hair between his fingers. “I didn’t want you to hurt along with me.”<br />
<br />
“It’s too late for that,” I said, putting my hand over his. “It has been for awhile.”<br />
<br />
He nodded in acknowledgment. He continued to play with locks of my hair despite my efforts to take his hand in mine. He looked as if the strands between his fingers were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen.<br />
<br />
Abruptly he stopped, then took a deep breath. “I guess I should start from the beginning.” His tone was purposeful; portentous.<br />
<br />
“You don’t have to do this now,” I told him. “You can barely speak.”<br />
<br />
“No. No more secrets.” A wry smile suddenly played at his swollen, cracked lips. “I sound like Rosalie did a week ago. Funny how it took a beating to get us both to finally drop our guards.”<br />
<br />
“Hilarious,” I muttered dryly.<br />
<br />
His hand was on my face then, thumb caressing my cheek. “I wish I had met you at U-Dub. You would have been a freshman when I was a junior, I think.”<br />
<br />
“No, I think you were a senior when I started college,” I told him.<br />
<br />
His wistful smile faded. “That is a pity. I met Tanya my junior year instead.” His hand dropped to the couch between us. He sighed and continued.<br />
<br />
“Remember that comment you made about me and girls? That they were always fawning over me, my whole life?” I gave a brief nod. “Well, I guess you were right. I never had to work very hard to get a girl’s attention. That’s not such a good thing. It can make you cocky and arrogant. Or just bored.”<br />
<br />
I bristled slightly, imagining the playboy that he used to be. “Men do like the chase,” I said. A generalization, to be sure, but one that seemed to be true more often than not.<br />
<br />
“I think it’s in our DNA or something,” he agreed. “And I never had much opportunity to chase anyone. That’s probably why I was drawn to Tanya at first. I met her at a party, and she was doing her own thing, hanging out with her girlfriends. She wanted nothing to do with me. So, of course, I took that as a personal challenge to win her over.”<br />
<br />
He reached for the glass of water on the table and took a sip. “Turns out I’d met my match, or so I thought. She never had much trouble attracting any guy she wanted, either. So we had fun playing cat and mouse for awhile. <br />
<br />
“That’s how it was in the beginning. Fun. We were just having fun, I thought. We dated most of junior year, but I lived in an apartment with a couple buddies of mine, and she lived in a sorority house. We spent as much time studying and hanging out with our friends as we did hanging out together. It was a normal balance for two college kids. I thought everything was fine. I thought <i>she</i> was fine. A little wild, but I was into that at the time. She liked to party and have fun, and she didn’t seem to give a shit what anyone thought of her.”<br />
<br />
He stopped and gave me a meaningful look. “I’ve always been attracted to strong women. Women who aren’t afraid to stand up for themselves, or what they believe in.” He reached for my face again, caressing it briefly.<br />
<br />
“But back then, I mistook brashness for strength. Tanya was headstrong and stubborn and willful. She did what she wanted, when she wanted. It was her way or the highway, with no in between. <br />
<br />
“So I did things her way, for awhile. We saw each other more during the summer before our senior year, and that’s when I began to notice the problems. See the cracks in that carefree mask she wore. <br />
<br />
“I started to realize just how often she was using recreational drugs, for one. I knew she liked to take a little Ecstasy before going out, and she’d come down by smoking pot. I wasn’t really into it because I don’t like feeling that out of control.” He stopped and mustered a crooked grin at me. “Imagine that.”<br />
<br />
My answering smile was brief. His own faded quickly.<br />
<br />
“Anyway, when the drug use became more frequent, I started to suspect that she was self-medicating. She probably should have been on lithium, or anti-depressants. I’ll never really know. I’m not a psychiatrist, and I wasn’t studying to be one. I didn’t see the signs right away. I just thought she was moody. Girls are moody, right? PMS or whatever.” He shrugged and gave me a guilty look. “That’s the way I thought back then. I <i>didn’t</i> think. I never dreamed there was anything seriously wrong until we moved in together.”<br />
<br />
He paused, and I felt my blood growing cold with dread. Wherever this was going, it wasn’t good. And I didn’t like hearing about Edward’s only long-term relationship before me. I knew that was why I hadn’t pushed him to reveal the details, even though he needed to get whatever he was hiding out in the open. I was afraid of what I might hear. And now that the moment was at hand, that fear was palpable, forcing my heart to work harder to push the icy blood through my veins.<br />
<br />
“We got a little more serious over the summer, and she started pushing for us to get an apartment together our senior year. Her parents didn’t approve. Neither did mine.” He let out a wry laugh. “Mom and Dad could see what a train wreck it would be. They never suspected what was really going on with her, but they always felt something was ‘off.’ They didn’t like her, and they didn’t bother to hide it from me. They were always civil toward her, of course. And her parents seemed to like me okay in the beginning. We even played tennis together a few times that summer. But they still didn’t want their little girl living in sin with me.”<br />
<br />
He took another sip of water; made another grimace of pain. “Of course, we ended up doing what we damned well pleased. I think Tanya lived to defy her father. But then she’d turn right around and beg for his forgiveness after the fact. And of course, his perfect princess could do no wrong in his eyes, so she was always forgiven. I don’t even want to consider the psychological implications of that,” he said with a look of distaste. <br />
<br />
“It was after we moved in together that I discovered just how bad her emotional and mental state was. I think she must have had classic bipolar disorder. She was up and down like a see-saw. Her highs would last for days, even weeks. She would go through frenzies of activity -- rearranging all the furniture in apartment, jogging three times a day, partying all the time, only sleeping three or four hours a night. It was exhausting. And when I couldn’t keep up with her, she’d tell me I was a stick in the mud, and that she was going to dump my boring ass and find someone new. I’d get fed up and tell her to go ahead. Then she’d start crying hysterically and accuse me of not loving her anymore. It was nuts.”<br />
<br />
He paused, his puffy lips forming a bitter smile. “I always swore I’d never use words like that. ‘Nuts.’ ‘Crazy.’ But she wasn’t … normal. It took me a long time to see it. Or maybe it just took me awhile to admit it. But our fights started happening more often, because she was just … irrational. Giddy and euphoric one minute, depressed and crying the next. <br />
<br />
“The manic episodes were almost worse than the depressive ones. She would talk a mile a minute, and she would make these grand plans for our future together. She kept hinting around at us getting married after graduation. She’d pester me constantly about where I was planning to go to med school so she could look for a job there, or maybe continue her own education. She was an art history major, and she was interested in architecture, so she’d taken some drafting and engineering courses. She was smart, when she applied herself. But she was getting more and more scattered and unfocused. <br />
<br />
“I started to wonder if I was a bad influence on her, somehow. It seemed like she had gotten along better when she was living with all her friends in the sorority house. I think maybe she had more of a support system there than living alone with me. I had some really tough courses senior year, and I started going to the library and other places on campus to study because I couldn’t concentrate at the apartment when she was in one of her phases. And then, of course, she’d complain that I was never around and never paid any attention to her. She even accused me of cheating on her. Like I had the time or energy to even think about that.”<br />
<br />
He let out an exhausted breath. “It was just a vicious circle. Nothing I did was right. But then she’d come out of it for a few days and she’d seem like her old self again. She didn’t always have depressive episodes. Sometimes she’d just be normal. Again, I hate to use terms like that, but I don’t know how else to describe it. I was able to talk to her rationally during those times, and I started to make gentle suggestions that she see a counselor to talk about what was going on. Because I think she knew, in her heart, that there was something wrong. She wasn’t happy. And I couldn’t seem to make her happy, no matter what I did.<br />
<br />
“I finally succeeded in getting her to go to a psychologist a couple of times. Each time I did, her dad would find out about it and tell her that she was wasting her time and money, listening to ‘that psychobabble.’ He’d tell her there was nothing wrong with her that a long run or a couple games of tennis wouldn’t cure.” <br />
<br />
Edward snorted derisively. “You saw for yourself what kind of man he is. Domineering, closed-minded. What he said went in that household. It’s no wonder she had such a rebellious streak -- a need to control her own world once she went to college and got out from under his iron fist. But she could never stop seeking his approval. And Daddy didn’t approve of shrinks, so that was that.”<br />
<br />
Edward stopped for a moment. He looked so tired, and his bruises were worsening. I wanted to go get the ice pack for him, but I knew he needed to finish his story. I tried to wait patiently; tried to appear strong and capable even though I felt sick inside. I didn’t want to hear any more.<br />
<br />
“The closer we got to the end of the semester and our final exams, the more stressed out we became. Our arguments were happening more often, usually over the fact that I still hadn’t decided what graduate schools I was going to apply for and the deadlines were getting near. She was pushing the marriage idea again, and the more she pushed, the more I balked. Her pressuring me only made me realize that I just couldn’t see that kind of future with her. I started admitting to myself that I didn’t really love her anymore. Not the way she needed me to, anyway. I couldn’t be her support system -- not when I felt like I was barely treading water myself. I just wanted out. And I knew that if that’s how I felt, I should end things with her before we got in any deeper.<br />
<br />
“But it was so hard to bring myself to drop that kind of bomb on her when she was so fragile. I was afraid that if I threatened to leave her, she’d lose it entirely.<br />
<br />
“So, I tried to wait it out until the end of the semester.” A bitter smile flitted across his face. “I failed miserably. About a week before finals, we got into one of our typical fights, and when she started in on me again, I just snapped. I told her that even if I had chosen a med school, I probably wouldn’t have told her about it because I wasn’t sure I wanted her to follow me there.”<br />
<br />
Edward shook his head in regret. “She looked at me like I’d just slapped her. I guess I had, in a way. She was literally trembling when she said to me, ‘I’m sorry my existence is such a fucking inconvenience for you.’ Then she ran to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.” <br />
<br />
Edward took another drink of water; it clearly pained him to swallow. I wondered if we should change the gauze packing that distended his cheek, but now definitely wasn’t the time.<br />
<br />
“I was so close to just walking out of the apartment and leaving her there to cool off. But something in her eyes -- in her voice -- told me to go after her. I got to the bathroom just in time to catch her swallowing a handful of pills.”<br />
<br />
My breath caught in my throat, but Edward didn’t notice. He was too wrapped up in the memory as he continued.<br />
<br />
“I wrestled the bottle from her and then forced her to throw up. I literally stuck my finger down her throat.” He paused, shuddering. I was too nauseous to even respond. <br />
<br />
“I begged her to get help again. She told me she didn’t need a psychiatrist -- she just needed me. I tried to explain to her that I didn’t know how to help her anymore; that this was beyond me. But it was so hard to get through to her when she was like that. And I was getting so tired of it all. Of trying to be strong for both of us, and still keep up my grades. It was just too much. All of it.”<br />
<br />
He sighed heavily and set his water glass back on the table. He finally looked at me then, in a strange mixture of apology and defensiveness. I could tell he didn’t want my pity, even though the situation warranted it. I tried to give him a look of reassurance, but in truth, I didn’t know how much more I could bear to hear.<br />
<br />
“I managed to calm her down that night. I probably lied and told her all the things she wanted to hear, just so she wouldn’t be tempted to take any more pills. And she was fine for a few days. We managed to keep afloat a little while longer. But the same abyss dragged us down again, and within a week we were in the middle of another cesspool.” <br />
<br />
Edward’s hollow gaze was focused on the past as he continued ominously. “It was the Thursday night before finals. Tanya wanted to go out; I wanted to stay in and study. That was all it took for us to start bickering -- such a simple thing. Such a ridiculous thing. But that’s what we were reduced to by then -- every little ripple between us turned into a huge tidal wave. It was just indicative of what was really going on beneath the surface.<br />
<br />
“We said horrible things to each other. Ugly things meant to inflict as much emotional damage as possible. It finally ended with me telling her that I’d had enough -- I was moving out, and that when I came back the next day to get my things, I’d better not find her there.<br />
<br />
“She flipped out, like I knew she would. But I’d gotten to the point where I was almost immune to her hysterics, and I told her as much.<br />
<br />
“Then I remember her screaming at me, ‘I don’t know how else to get through to you!’<br />
<br />
“And I told her, ‘You can’t. You can’t get through to me anymore. I’m done living like this. Until you can admit you have a problem and get some help, I can’t be with you anymore.’<br />
<br />
“She said, ‘You think I’m crazy, don’t you? You think I’m a fucking nut case. Well if I am, it’s because <i>you</i> made me this way. The minute anything gets too heavy or too real between us, you shut down. If I even mention any plans for our future together, you clam up or run out the door.’<br />
<br />
“And I replied, ‘That’s because I’m not sure I want a future with you.’”<br />
<br />
Edward sighed heavily, his eyes bleary. “That set her off again, of course. But then I proved her point by deciding to stay at Jasper’s place that night. I remember trying to fill my backpack while she followed me from room to room, crying and begging me not to go. Her weakness only wore on my nerves at that point. I just wanted some peace … to not have deal with the madness anymore. I thought that maybe if I left for good this time, she’d take my advice seriously and see a psychiatrist. I don’t know. I was so tired. So done.”<br />
<br />
He looked that way now, and I wanted to reach out to comfort him; but I seemed to be frozen, immobile with dread.<br />
<br />
“She followed me to the door, grabbing at me, sobbing. It only repelled me. I was halfway out the door when she gave me her own ultimatum:<br />
<br />
“'If you leave me, I’ll swear to God I’ll go through with it this time.’”<br />
<br />
My heart dropped, imagining it. I braced myself for what I knew was coming.<br />
<br />
“I just stared at her,” Edward continued. “We both knew exactly what she was talking about. I should have known she wasn’t bluffing. But I was so sick of her threats, so sick of her trying to manipulate me.<br />
<br />
“So you know what I said to her?” Edward stopped his narrative and looked me dead in the eyes, challenging me. Daring me to ask him. I only stared back dumbly, my stomach twisting into painful knots as I awaited the terrible truth.<br />
<br />
“I told her, ‘Fine. Go ahead. Put us both out of our misery. I don’t give a damn what you do anymore.’”<br />
<br />
I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut in denial and swallow the bile that rose in my throat. But my eyes were locked with Edward’s in pity and horror as the reason for his guilt set in. I knew that it would do no good to try to convince him he wasn’t at fault, so I sat and waited for the truth to tumble from his lips like a head from the guillotine’s blade.<br />
<br />
“Those were my exact words. I told a mentally unstable girl -- one I had professed to love -- to go ahead and kill herself.” His features were twisted in a self-loathing so sharp that its knife’s edge cut me to the core. <br />
<br />
And then he abruptly laughed; a sick, slightly hysterical sound. “How the hell was I supposed to know that she’d pick that moment to start taking my advice? She never did what I told her before.”<br />
<br />
“Edward . . .” My voice was a mere crumb. I wanted to soothe him, but didn’t know how. I wanted to stop him, but I knew it was no use. I simply sat, inert, and waited while he gathered his strength. His body tensed and his face contorted with the effort to continue.<br />
<br />
“I went back the next day when I knew she’d be in class. It was silent as a tomb in the apartment. You’d think I would have sensed it … would have known I was walking into a shroud of death. <br />
<br />
“But you know what I felt? Relief.” He stopped and gave me that hard, challenging look again. “I was relieved that she wasn’t there so I could pack my things in peace.<br />
<br />
“So that’s what I did. I filled the Volvo with what I could carry and decided to leave her the bulk of the furniture. Most of what we had were flea market finds and hand-me-downs from our parents. I worked fast, wanting to get out before she came back from class.”<br />
<br />
He paused again, and I felt every ounce of awful portent along with him as his breathing grew more ragged.<br />
<br />
“The bathroom was the last place I went. I thought I’d taken most of my stuff out of there the night before when I went to Jasper’s place, but I decided I’d better check just to be sure.<br />
<br />
“The door was ajar, and before I even turned the light on, I saw this metallic glint on the floor, near the bathtub. I remember staring at it for the longest time, like I couldn’t figure out what it was. Of course, I knew what it was. I just couldn’t figure out what a butcher knife was doing in the bathroom. <br />
<br />
“I stood there in denial for I don’t know how long. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the horror of the truth. But there was blood on the knife -- I could see it clearly from where I was standing. And in that moment, I knew. I knew exactly what I would see when I stepped inside that room and walked toward that bathtub.<br />
<br />
“I was frozen to the spot with dread. I wanted to turn around and run. But somehow I forced myself to walk to the tub instead. I felt like a puppet being jerked forward by strings -- being forced to come and face the grisly truth.”<br />
<br />
Edward’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment; mine were wide with second-hand horror. <br />
<br />
“She had filled the tub with enough water that she was completely submerged. I’ll spare you the details -- I’m sure you can imagine what I found. I stared at her body in … just … shock, I guess. Complete horror … disbelief. I didn’t want to accept that she had done that to herself. That she would really go through with it.<br />
<br />
“I knew she was dead. I could see that she was long gone. But for some reason, I suddenly snapped to, like I’d been awakened from a nightmare, only to find that reality was ten times worse. I sprang into action then, far too late. I pulled her out of the tub; she was so cold and stiff that I could barely maneuver her. But I couldn’t give seem to give up. Couldn’t stop trying to breathe life back into her somehow. I gave her CPR and mouth-to-mouth -- utterly useless, but I had to do it. I had to try, even though I knew there was no way to resuscitate a corpse.”<br />
<br />
“Edward, stop.” I was surprised to hear my own voice. It was a hoarse croak, a desperate plea. I couldn’t take any more. I wanted to block the vision in my head of Edward pulling Tanya from a pool of her own blood and trying to revive her. I knew how utterly devastating the ordeal must have been. How Edward would have been soaked in that sea of red, desperate and guilty and terrified to his very marrow. I knew about blood and horror and regret. The tears that rolled down my cheeks now were from a painfully familiar place. <br />
<br />
Edward looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, his expression so fraught that I instinctively sought to comfort him. I reached out to smooth the battered side of his face, knowing that I was powerless to heal a pain that went so much deeper. <br />
<br />
He winced, but mirrored my actions, his own fingers rising tentatively to my cheek.<br />
<br />
“I didn’t want to make you relive that with me,” he whispered. His gaze faltered. “I didn’t want to relive it myself.”<br />
<br />
“I know,” I answered, gingerly stroking his swollen face. “I hate that you ever had to go through something like that. It makes me sick inside.” I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his chest, right under his neck. I let my tears fall unfettered; let them soak the fabric of his t-shirt. His own arms wound protectively around me and he held me close for a long moment. I heard him sniff a couple of times, and I hoped that he was letting some of those pent-up emotions out. I hoped he was finding whatever solace in me that he could.<br />
<br />
I finally raised my head and kissed him on the wound-free side of his face, tasting the saltwater of his tears. I wiped them away with my fingers; he reached up and did the same to me. <br />
<br />
<i>Sea of Red.</i><br />
<br />
Edward’s song of pain materialized in my head, and I gasped at its full meaning. The words suddenly made sense to me now. What I had assumed to be metaphor had actually been gruesome, unthinkable reality. My heart ached for him in a way I’d never imagined it could.<br />
<br />
“Edward, why did you tell me Tanya drowned?” I asked him quietly.<br />
<br />
His smile was grim. “Another lie of omission for which I need to beg your forgiveness. The coroner’s report listed drowning as the official cause of death. The autopsy determined that after she slit her wrists, she lost consciousness due to loss of blood. She was technically still alive when she passed out and slid down into the water. She asphyxiated before she ever bled out.”<br />
<br />
I shook my head violently then to silence him. “Dear God,” I whispered with a shudder. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry, Edward. I hate that she did that to you. To herself.”<br />
<br />
He nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing. He looked haggard, like he’d just survived a battle. I knew that the emotional one was far more draining than the physical.<br />
<br />
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know exactly how hard this was for you.” I held his face gently and stroked his cheek with my thumb. “But I hope maybe you can start to let go of it now. The mental illness is what took her life. You do know that, don’t you?”<br />
<br />
His lips twisted into a brief snicker. “Maybe if you tell me enough, I’ll believe it.”<br />
<br />
I shook my head in resignation. “I think in your head, you already do. But the heart isn’t always so quick to follow.”<br />
<br />
Edward’s fingers combed through the hair at my temple and he gave me a wan smile. “I’d ask you how you got so wise, but I know the answer to that. And I’m sorry for what you had to go through to achieve it.”<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry for us both,” I answered quietly. I rose from the sofa to retrieve the ice pack from his freezer. When I returned, he was carefully picking the wad of blood-soaked gauze from the inside of his cheek.<br />
<br />
“I must look like Marlon Brando with this shit in my mouth,” he joked weakly.<br />
<br />
“A little. Much hotter, though,” I assured him. “Should I go get you some more gauze?”<br />
<br />
He shook his head. “I think the bleeding has stopped.” But he grunted in pain when I carefully applied the ice pack to the side of his face again.<br />
<br />
“We should call a dental surgeon. You might need stitches,” I said worriedly.<br />
<br />
He shook his head. “The inside of the mouth heals quickly. It should be better in the morning.”<br />
<br />
“You would make a really good doctor, you know,” I said. “You could still do it.”<br />
<br />
He smiled briefly; his eyes looked lost in thought for a moment. “I’d have to repeat my entire senior year just to get my undergrad degree. I never did take my final exams for that first semester. The dean even offered to let me take them late, due to ‘extenuating circumstances.’ But I just … shut down, I guess. I never went back. Mom and Dad tried to be patient and supportive, but my father never could accept me blowing my education like that. I get why. He didn’t want to see me ruin my life over what happened. But I think ruining my life was my way of punishing myself for the way I handled everything. Or mishandled it, really. I figured I didn’t deserve a good life when I’d practically taken someone else’s with my carelessness.”<br />
<br />
“You have to stop that,” I told him. “You didn’t make her do what she did. You said it yourself, to her father -- that you’re not responsible for her actions. That’s the truth. You have to let go of the guilt, no matter now tempting it is to hang onto it. It’s keeping you stuck in the past. And I really need you and want you here with me, in the present.”<br />
<br />
His eyes swept over my face, grateful and loving and pained all at once. “You don’t even know what you’ve done for me. How you’ve saved me from myself. I’m so sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention. That seems to be my gift -- hurting the ones I love with very little effort.”<br />
<br />
“Stop it.” My voice was firmer this time. “You know how much you healed me. How you’ve been there for me when I needed you. I won’t let you wallow in this self-blame anymore. You didn’t raise the knife to Tanya any more than I deliberately drove my mother into the path of an oncoming truck. This has to end.” I regarded the doubt and sorrow in his eyes and my own sadness grew. <br />
<br />
“Please,” I added softly.<br />
<br />
His fingers worked my hair again, massaging my scalp, subconsciously soothing me when he was the one who needed comfort. “I’d do anything for you, Bella.”<br />
<br />
“I know. But I think the question now is, would you do the same for yourself?”<br />
<br />
His fingers stilled. His brow furrowed and the shadow of doubt flickered in his eyes again.<br />
<br />
“I’ll try,” he said at last.<br />
<br />
I nodded and reached over to press my lips tenderly to his. I knew that this was all he could promise me right now. And for now, it was enough.<br />
<br />
I led him to the bedroom and arranged the bed pillows so that his head would be elevated more than normal while he slept. I helped him get situated under the covers, then held the cold compress to his face for awhile, smoothing his hair and stroking his battered but still beautiful face until he grew drowsy.<br />
<br />
“You would make an excellent doctor yourself,” he murmured when I removed the ice pack and hopped off the bed to return it to the kitchen.<br />
<br />
“Anything is possible. The future is wide open,” I reminded him.<br />
<br />
His eyes remained closed, but his brief grin was reassuring. “I like how you think, Miss Swan,” he repeated.<br />
<br />
“Then start thinking that way yourself,” I answered half under my breath as I left the room.<br />
<br />
When I returned, he was unconscious. I carefully crawled under the covers and wrapped myself around him, but sleep was elusive for me. I couldn’t dispel the ugly images that invaded my mind. Every time Edward groaned or fidgeted restlessly in his sleep, I jerked awake and studied him in the dim light to make sure he was okay. When he awoke in the middle of the night, complaining of the throbbing in his jaw, I was quick to get him more pain pills. I was ready, willing and able to be his nursemaid until his physical wounds began to heal.<br />
<br />
But the question that worried me throughout the long night was this: Would I be able to help him heal the wounds that ran so much deeper?<br />
<br />
I prayed for strength as the dawn’s light began to filter around the edges of the bedroom window. I laid my head on Edward’s chest and let the soft rumble of his breathing lull me to sleep.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-68064099698532467112011-10-28T21:13:00.002-05:002011-10-30T09:24:16.034-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 20 - Blindside<b><i>Edward Cullen’s Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Saturday, September 11</b><br />
<br />
I remembered to bring my camera with me today.<br />
<br />
Too many times, I’ve taken Bella somewhere with breath-taking scenery, and then spent my time trying to memorize the way the sun plays off the highlights in her hair, or the way her cheeks flush in the breeze. Today I captured it all: the wind in her hair; the reflection of the water in her eyes; the glint of her teeth, as white as the sails behind her, when she laughed. The way she pulled my hooded sweatshirt close around her shoulders when the sun went under the clouds, then unzipped it when the warm rays reappeared. The way she rolled her eyes at me when I wouldn’t put the camera away, but then pressed her face to mine when I held the camera out in front of us to take our self-portrait.<br />
<br />
But it was too late for me to capture the look of complete happiness she used to give me. I had already tarnished that with my duplicity. The minute she had discovered my lie of omission about Rosalie on Monday, I’d felt the tide turn. And now, as we drifted along the water, I tried to ignore the fact that she was drifting away from me.<br />
<br />
The disappointment in her eyes over Rosalie’s confession had cut me to the bone. My withholding the truth had hurt her just as much as the truth itself. You’d think that this mistake would have been impetus enough to keep me from making another one, wouldn’t you? But perversely, it only cemented my fear in place, like concrete shoes dragging me under instead of letting me move forward.<br />
<br />
Bella gave me several opportunities to tell her about you. She figured out that you’re gone. She just didn’t know how it happened. And, of course, that was the hardest thing for me to talk about. The thing I’d been beating back like a lion-tamer holds a beast at bay with a flimsy chair and a whip. I knew all along that the beast would win. And yet I continued the useless fight, when Bella only wanted me to give in.<br />
<br />
I don’t know how I managed to skirt the issue all week. After Monday, there really was no point in the façade anymore. And yet she allowed me to dance around the elephant in the room for days. She did the dance with me, indulging my cowardice. Maybe the truth scared her. Maybe through my subterfuge, I’d only encouraged her to conjure up scenarios about you that were worse than what actually happened, though I doubt that’s possible. Or maybe her own past trauma had made her far more forgiving and patient with me than I deserved.<br />
<br />
Either way, she let the beast lie, never giving it more than the gentlest of prods. Those were easily tamed, and she went along with my circus act, smiling fearlessly as I pretended that the beast was incapable of devouring us both.<br />
<br />
But all of that ended today.<br />
<br />
We started our day at the Seattle Tennis Club early so I could give Bella a quick tour before we met Mom’s sailing friend, Tom Rollins, at the boathouse. She viewed most of the club’s amenities with wide-eyed wonder, occasionally commenting on how beautiful the ballroom and dining rooms were. I loved seeing the places I’d grown up in through her eyes. She always gave me a new appreciation for the things I’d taken for granted.<br />
<br />
After leaving a change of clothes in the club locker rooms, we headed down to the boathouse to meet our captain. A sturdy man in his sixties with silver hair and a beard to match, Tom Rollins had the kind of ruddy, weathered face that bore testimony to his love of the outdoors. His smile was warm and genuine, and it creased his face into deep, amiable grooves when he flashed it at us in welcome.<br />
<br />
After I made the necessary introductions, he wasted no time in leading us to his beautiful fifty-foot sloop, Nessie, docked in the harbor. The yacht had a motor, as many modern vessels do, but once we were out on the open water, he killed the engine and hoisted the sails.<br />
<br />
He gave Bella and I a few basic pointers as he put us to work, helping to ease out the mainsail and set the boom correctly over the transom. He showed us a few types of knots to use on the ropes, and gave us a basic understanding of things like close-haul and broad reach; tacking and jibing; beating and running. Bella seemed fascinated, and was eager to help trim the sails as we maneuvered up the coast. Before we knew it, the sun was high overhead, warm and dazzling under its canopy of vivid blue.<br />
<br />
The city coastline was far behind us when our captain suggested we slow our pace and take a break for lunch. We were glad for calm waters as we ate the tuna sandwiches that Tom had thoughtfully packed for us. He barely took time to eat himself, instead regaling us with stories about journeys he’d made during weather much less favorable than this. He even remembered taking my mom and dad out once when they were dating.<br />
<br />
“You’re a lot like your father, you know,” he commented to me with a grin.<br />
<br />
“Really?” My tone was skeptical. “How so?”<br />
<br />
“You’ve got the same calm, capable air about you, but there’s a fire in there, too. You’ve got that determined look in your eye.” He suddenly let out a chortle. “You look at Bella, here, the same way your dad always looked at your mom.”<br />
<br />
“How was that?” Bella asked eagerly.<br />
<br />
A sage smile split Tom’s grizzled beard and mustache. “Like he knew a good thing when he saw it, and wasn’t about to squander the opportunity to claim it for his own.”<br />
<br />
He laughed at my sheepish grin while Bella elbowed me playfully.<br />
<br />
“You’ve got your mother’s looks, though,” Tom added. “She’s still a beauty. The bloom hasn’t faded on that rose yet.”<br />
<br />
“No, it hasn’t,” I replied. Bella murmured in agreement.<br />
<br />
“Okay, hang on to your seats, and your lunches. I’m about to turn ol’ Nessie around and take her back to the harbor. You two want to give me a hand?”<br />
<br />
“Sure,” Bella and I replied in unison, jumping up to help him with the sails. He instructed us how to jibe, a quick but slightly more dangerous way to turn the boat around since we’d be bringing the stern around into the eye of the wind. Tom put me in charge of centering and letting out the mainsail while he replaced the jib sheet. He talked me through the steps, but I was still surprised at how quickly the boom swung over the boat despite my best efforts to control it.<br />
<br />
“Whoa!” Bella exclaimed, ducking down in her seat as I wrestled with the sail. After letting out the jib, Tom helped me trim the mainsail until we were at beam reach. As soon as the boat was at broad reach with the wind coming from the aft starboard side, I left Tom in the stern and sat next to Bella in the middle of the craft.<br />
<br />
“You didn’t think I’d knock you overboard, did you?” I grinned.<br />
<br />
“Of course not. Not intentionally, anyway,” she kidded. Suddenly her laughter subsided and a strange look came over her face.<br />
<br />
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.<br />
<br />
“Nothing. I guess I just had a déjà vu,” she answered with a frown. Then, her eyebrows suddenly lifted in recollection. “No, I remember what it was. I had a dream about this! I dreamt that you took me sailing. It was weeks ago, before you were anything more than my therapist.”<br />
<br />
“Really?” I was surprised that she’d had a dream that turned out to be more of a premonition. <br />
<br />
“Yeah. We were sailing, and it was a beautiful day like this one. But then it turned stormy all of a sudden, and the boat began to get tossed around on the waves.”<br />
<br />
“Typical for the Sound,” I interjected.<br />
<br />
“Right,” she agreed. “You were actually steering the boat in my dream. When you turned it around to head back to the shore, I lost my balance and fell in the water. I was flailing around with the rain hitting me in the face, and you threw me a life preserver so you could pull me back in. I couldn’t seem to hang on to it, though, and the next thing I knew, you jumped in to save me. I saw you swimming toward me, and suddenly I knew everything would be okay.”<br />
<br />
“So . . . was it?” I asked. I loved that she thought of me as her lifeline, before we were even involved. I wondered if her dream would have turned out the same if it had happened this past week instead.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know---I assume so. I woke up then.” She suddenly smiled. “The thing that I remembered most about it was that it was the first time I ever heard you call me ‘Bella.’”<br />
<br />
I smiled faintly at my ridiculous attempts to keep her at arm’s length then, when she’d already captured my soul within the first two days of our meeting.<br />
<br />
Her eyes were focused on the memory of the dream as she continued. “Right before you jumped in the water, you yelled, ‘Hang on, Bella. I won’t lose you, too.’”<br />
<br />
My heart skipped a beat, maybe two, as I stared at her. How could she have known about you then? She couldn’t have. She didn’t. Her dream had been prophetic in ways that now sent a chill down my spine despite the balmy weather.<br />
<br />
The realization hit Bella a moment later, for her eyes grew round with fearful comprehension.<br />
<br />
“Edward,” she gasped softly, putting her hand on my arm and searching my eyes for confirmation. “Is that how Tanya died? Did she drown?”<br />
<br />
I stared at her pensive face and fought the urge to laugh at the unintentional irony of her question. She had no way of knowing that she had hit the nail squarely on the head while still completely missing the mark.<br />
<br />
I took the easy way out once again. I would say it’s an art form, but there’s no talent in taking the path of least resistance. <br />
<br />
I nodded quietly. “She did, actually.”<br />
<br />
Her face twisted into a mixture of sorrow and pity that I could scarcely bear. She gave my arm a sympathetic squeeze, then added cautiously, “Were you with her?”<br />
<br />
I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t. But not a day goes by that I don’t wish I had been able to save her somehow.”<br />
<br />
There. That, at least, was a true statement. But my conscience felt even more burdened than before.<br />
<br />
She took my hands in hers and explored them, rubbing my fingers with hers; a soothing gesture, I supposed. <br />
<br />
“I know how hard it is for you to talk about what happened,” she said, still staring at my knuckles, her thumb softly stroking the hairs that sprouted there. “You must have really loved her.”<br />
<br />
The uncertainty in her voice nearly killed me. I couldn’t believe I was hearing it. I thought she was past her insecurities now; I thought I had systematically destroyed each one of them. I withdrew my hands from hers and took possession of her face instead, willing her to look up at me. <br />
<br />
“How can you not understand how I feel about you?” I questioned her, trying to quell my frustration. “I won’t say I never loved her. I did, at the beginning. But it was so different from what I have with you that it doesn’t compare in any way, shape or form. I’ve told you that from the start. Even alive and breathing, she wouldn’t be any competition for you. So trust me, her ghost is even less.”<br />
<br />
I leaned in and kissed her solemnly, reverently. I looked deeply into her eyes and tried to make her understand that the past couldn’t touch what I felt for her in the present. <br />
<br />
“I have never loved anyone the way I love you. I will never love anyone the way I love you. If you don’t know anything else about me, then please tell me you at least know that.”<br />
<br />
“I know you believe that,” she whispered. Her doubt was maddening to me.<br />
<br />
“Of course I believe it, and so should you. It’s an uncontestable fact.” I leaned back and studied her, trying to figure out where this was coming from. Did she actually think that my reluctance to discuss you was because I had loved you more than I do her? The idea had never even occurred to me, but apparently it had to her. She didn’t seem to realize how absurd it was.<br />
<br />
I stroked the side of her face with one hand; let my fingers thread through her wind-whipped hair.<br />
<br />
“You’re the one,” I said simply, emphatically. “The only one.”<br />
<br />
I couldn’t tell if her eyes watered at my declaration, or were merely stung by the wind. But she put her hand over mine on her face, brought my palm to her lips and kissed it. I drew her close to me and held her most of the way back to Seattle, leaving her side only to help Tom tack when necessary.<br />
<br />
Bella and I hovered somewhere between exhilaration and exhaustion by the time we were on dry land again. We thanked our captain profusely for the trip, the lessons and the lunch. As we said our good-byes, Tom leaned in and spoke to me confidentially as Bella walked ahead of me down the dock.<br />
<br />
“It was a pleasure seeing you and your girlfriend enjoying each other’s company like that. Took me right back to the days when your old man was courting your mother, no lie. I gotta hand it to ya---the Cullen men sure do know how to pick ‘em.” <br />
<br />
When Bella turned and looked at me quizzically, Tom gave her a wink, then chuckled and slapped me on the back.<br />
<br />
“What was that about?” she asked when I caught up with her.<br />
<br />
“Nothing. Tom’s a wise man, that’s all.”<br />
<br />
Bella was still feeling her sea legs a bit, and we walked it off with a stroll around the club grounds before resting on a park bench looking out over the water. Bella soon dozed off, her head lolling against my shoulder as her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. I stroked her hair and gazed down at her placid face: forehead smooth, mouth relaxed, eyelashes casting a fringed shadow on her flushed cheeks. I began to worry that she had gotten a bit sunburned, so I reluctantly roused her and suggested we go inside and get ready for dinner.<br />
<br />
We parted ways to use the men’s and women’s facilities. I showered and dried my hair quickly, but didn’t bother to shave. Even though Bella often complained about my scratchy five o-clock shadow, I knew she secretly loved it. There were many things she never said aloud that I discerned anyway, by the look in her eyes, the crook of her smile, or that delectable blush. In so many ways, I felt like I knew her as well as I knew myself. Yet in others, she was still a mystery to me.<br />
<br />
I donned the suit I’d brought with me but ditched the tie. Though the club’s main restaurant was formal, I still balked at wearing a tie in a sports facility. Maybe that was the rebel in me, always wanting to stray a little left of center. That was certainly the part of me that was drawn to you.<br />
<br />
I waited in an elegant wingback chair nearby the ladies’ locker room, knowing it wouldn’t take Bella that long to get ready. She wasn’t a fussy girl, but was still effortlessly elegant when she wanted to be. That was on one of the things I loved most about her. I wondered if she could read my unspoken language as well as I could hers. I always thought she could until this week, when I saw that doubt in her eyes surface more and more. Maybe my lie of omission about Rosalie had done more damage than I ever could have predicted.<br />
<br />
I could feel my face still etched with worry when a familiar pair of long, ivory legs strolled into view of my downcast eyes. A smile defeated my frown at the sight of them. I let my gaze linger on those lovely limbs in their black pumps before climbing upward, over the simple lines of her short red dress to the matching scarlet of her lips. <br />
<br />
“Wow,” I said dumbly, appreciatively, as I gazed up at her perfection. “You look incredible.” I quickly rose to my feet for a different vantage point, one that allowed me to peer lewdly down the crossover neckline of her dress. <br />
<br />
She gave me the usual outwardly exasperated, secretly pleased look. “So predictable,” she chided.<br />
<br />
“The day I stop trying to look down your dress will be the day I die,” I told her, tilting her face up to give her a kiss on the cheek.<br />
<br />
“And mine will be the day I stop enjoying it.”<br />
<br />
I grinned and offered her my arm. “Shall we?”<br />
<br />
“Lead the way, Mr. Cullen,” she replied, clasping my elbow. “You look ridiculously handsome, by the way,” she added as I escorted her to the dining area. <br />
<br />
“I will take that as a compliment, coming from the most beautiful woman here,” I told her as we entered the restaurant.<br />
<br />
She tried to act blasé, but her eyes were still wide at the old-school elegance of the place, all dark wood, linen, crystal, tea roses and candlelight. The hostess seated us near the terrace overlooking the water, and Bella sighed at the view of it beyond the lushly manicured gardens.<br />
<br />
“This place is amazing,” she said with a shake of her head after we were seated. “This whole day has been amazing. Thank you for the best birthday present ever.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, this isn’t your birthday present,” I informed her. “But I’m glad you’re having a good time.”<br />
<br />
“Edward,” she admonished. “This is more than enough. You didn’t have to buy me anything else.”<br />
<br />
“I didn’t,” I said with a mischievous grin.<br />
<br />
Her face was alight with anticipation. “Now you’ve really got me curious. Surprises make me nervous.”<br />
<br />
My grin broadened. “Don’t worry. It’s definitely something you’ll like.”<br />
<br />
“Hmm. I don’t doubt that,” she said with the quirk of one brow.<br />
<br />
We perused the menus; I ordered a bottle of one of their best white wines and some hors d’oeuvres while Bella deliberated over the entrees. She finally chose salmon while I went with rockfish, and we both picked crab bisque for our first course.<br />
<br />
When the waiter returned with our wine, I could barely stop staring at Bella long enough to approve the sample he poured me. I was mesmerized by the flicker of the candlelight in her dark eyes. The warm heat of them intoxicated me more than the wine ever could. <br />
<br />
The waiter poured us each a glass before taking his leave. I raised mine, beckoning her to do the same.<br />
<br />
“What shall we toast to?” I asked, deferring to her.<br />
<br />
“To us, of course,” she answered immediately. “And to more days like this.”<br />
<br />
“To us,” I echoed, touching my glass to hers. We watched each other sip the wine, enticed by the sensuality of each other’s mouths. I knew that the physical aspect of our relationship would never be lacking. I had never felt so bound to anyone the way I am to her . . . so utterly attuned to her needs and wants. And certainly no one had ever held my own in the palm of her hand the way she does.<br />
<br />
I wanted that to be enough; but of course, it wasn’t. The reason our physical connection was so strong was because it was rooted in the emotional and spiritual. And until I could share those as fully with her as I had shared my body, I knew we would never move forward. <br />
<br />
Our hors d’oeuvres soon arrived, and we noshed on artichoke-dill crostini as we waited for our soup. Bella’s cheeks grew pinker with every sip of chenin blanc that she took. I grinned and filled her glass again.<br />
<br />
“Do you like the wine?” I asked her.<br />
<br />
“I do, as a matter of fact,” she said with a small giggle. “Almost as well as I like the company.”<br />
<br />
“How you do flatter me, Miss Swan.” I took a sip from my own glass and savored the warmth that spread through my belly after the crisp finish of the wine had dissipated.<br />
<br />
“I used to hate that, you know,” she told me, making a face.<br />
<br />
“Hate what?”<br />
<br />
“When you called me ‘Miss Swan’ or ‘Isabella.’ It sounded so formal and stand-offish.”<br />
<br />
“It was. That was entirely the point. I didn’t want to get too close. Be too familiar.”<br />
<br />
We both let out a short laugh at the thought. “I would venture to say that we are now about as familiar with one another as two human beings can possibly be,” she said, giving me a look so seductive that I could feel arousal begin to disrupt the contour of the gabardine fabric between my legs.<br />
<br />
“I’d say so,” I agreed. My smile faded slightly as I looked at her. “That’s why I fought you so hard. I think I knew from the beginning that you’d get inside me like no one else ever has. That you would irrevocably change my life.”<br />
<br />
“Is that such bad thing?” she asked hesitantly. “You did the same to me, you know.”<br />
<br />
“Did I?” I mused. Now it was her turn to look incredulous at my lack of confidence in her feelings for me. “Okay, I guess I did,” I relented. “But I think you were more ready for it than I was.”<br />
<br />
She looked even more annoyed now. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I wasn’t even looking for a relationship when I met you. And even after I met you, I never dreamed that my infatuation with you would be a two-way street.”<br />
<br />
“Why not?”<br />
<br />
Her expression became exasperated. “Edward, you’re the guy who’s had girls fawning over him since birth. And before you argue with me, remember that I saw the evidence at your family’s house last weekend. I, on the other hand, am the girl who went to her senior prom with a gay guy because neither of us could get a date with the guy we really wanted to go with. And yes, we both wanted to go with the same guy, if you must know.”<br />
<br />
I tried not to laugh, but couldn’t stop my mirth from bubbling to the surface. “You already know what I think of the men from your past. They were idiots who didn’t deserve you.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, well, you would have been the equivalent of that unattainable guy who never noticed me, let alone asked me to Prom. So when you did notice me . . . well, you made a pretty big impact,” she finished quietly.<br />
<br />
I tried not to snicker at the vast chasm between what she thought of me and what I thought of myself. Instead, I reached over the table and took her hand in mine.<br />
<br />
“I wish I could have taken you to Prom,” I told her. That was the truth. The girl I did take gave me a drunken blow job in the back of my car and then promptly threw up out the door. I decided to save that story for another day.<br />
<br />
“And I wish I could have taken you to the Black and Red Ball,” I added instead.<br />
<br />
“You can take me next year,” she said with a smile.<br />
<br />
“It’s a date. I’m entering it in my iPhone, so don’t even think about going with anyone else.”<br />
<br />
“Are you kidding? I can’t think of a better way to spend our one-year anniversary,” she said with a smile.<br />
<br />
The grin that stole over my face felt like it stretched from ear to ear. Even though I had felt her distancing herself from me, apparently she thought of the rift as temporary. “That’s right, it will be our first anniversary, won’t it?”<br />
<br />
She nodded and ran her thumb over mine. “We’ll have some celebrating to do in the garden maze, I think.”<br />
<br />
“I like how you think, Miss Swan.” And then, I corrected myself. “Bella.”<br />
<br />
“That’s the thing---I kind of like it when you call me ‘Miss Swan’ now. It feels sort of decadent. Like you’re my boss and you’ve just called me into your office to reprimand me for doing something bad.” She lifted one very subtle, yet very provocative, eyebrow at me.<br />
<br />
Damn, but she knew how to get my juices flowing. “I highly doubt I’d be reprimanding you for that. Quite the opposite, I would imagine. But you’ve given me an idea for our next role-playing session.”<br />
<br />
I detached my hand from hers just enough to run my fingers slowly along her palm. My eyes never left hers; her gaze didn’t waver.<br />
<br />
“You and your games,” she whispered at last with the ghost of a grin.<br />
<br />
“You know I’m not playing with you,” I murmured. <br />
<br />
She swallowed hard and opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the arrival of our waiter. I reluctantly let go of her hand, and reached for my silverware instead while he served our bowls of bisque. <br />
<br />
I felt the atmosphere turn more serious again as the sun’s light began to wane through the windows. The thought of Bella leaving crept into my mind unbidden. I’d been trying not think about it, but her departure was only a few days away.<br />
<br />
“So have you decided when you’re going to leave for your Dad’s?” I asked, trying to sound offhand.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know. Monday or Tuesday, I think,” she replied before spooning another mouthful of crab.<br />
<br />
“You’re going on your birthday?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice this time.<br />
<br />
“Well, maybe. I’m kind of superstitious about driving the day after. I know that’s silly,” she said quietly.<br />
<br />
“No, it’s not silly. I don’t want you driving if you don’t feel comfortable.”<br />
<br />
“Well, Rose gave me the whole week off, so I can play it by ear. She barely blinked an eye about me asking for vacation time. I’m sure that’s her way of trying to make amends,” she said with a shrug.<br />
<br />
“Is it working?” I asked. I wondered if my attempt to make amends was being received any better.<br />
<br />
“A little. I think what will really help is the time away from her. From the whole situation. I need a some distance. Some clarity.”<br />
<br />
I nodded, unable to argue with her, unable to deny her what she needed.<br />
<br />
“I’ll miss you,” I told her softly.<br />
<br />
“It’s only a week,” she reminded me. “But I’ll miss you too.”<br />
<br />
We ate in silence for a moment before she spoke again.<br />
<br />
“You can send me dirty texts, you know. We can have phone sex. That’ll be a new one.”<br />
<br />
I let out a chuckle. “I like how you see the glass half-full, Miss Swan.” I grabbed the wine bottle and refilled her glass to exactly the half-way mark.<br />
<br />
“I’ll drink to that,” she said, raising her goblet.<br />
<br />
“So will I.” I touched my glass to hers and hoped that the sentiment would find its way to my pessimistic soul.<br />
<br />
Our toast somehow signaled the arrival of the main course, and we concentrated on our meals then. I made an effort to simply live in that perfect moment, enjoying a delicious meal in an elegant atmosphere, with my favorite person in the world.<br />
<br />
I should have known better, of course. Every time I let my guard down and simply believe that I’m deserving of such happiness, it comes crashing down around me in vengeful retribution. Forget the glass simply being half empty---it’s usually broken and smashed in my face as well.<br />
<br />
We enjoyed a glass of port for dessert, and Bella was beginning to get that drowsy, tipsy, ready-for-love look in her eyes. I was more than ready to take her up on it. We got up from the table, and I took her hand in mine to lead her toward the entrance. I was glancing back to make sure I hadn’t guided her right into anyone’s table when it happened.<br />
<br />
I heard his voice.<br />
<br />
A voice I hoped I’d never hear for the rest of my life.<br />
<br />
I hadn’t heard it in years, but I recognized it instantly. <br />
<br />
“Edward Cullen.”<br />
<br />
He spoke my name with menace and disgust, the way one would address an enemy. Every muscle in my body stiffened with dread as I slowly turned to face him.<br />
<br />
There he stood, all six feet, five inches of him, as big and intimidating as I remembered. He still looked like his suit could barely contain him, and his face was already beginning to turn red with rage at the mere sight of me. I couldn’t say I blamed him. He always swore he would kill me if he ever laid eyes on me again, and the fury in his eyes quickly told me that the desire had not faded.<br />
<br />
But my instinctual fear made me oddly brazen in that moment. I stepped in front of Bella slightly to shield her, took a deep breath and braced myself.<br />
<br />
Then I calmly greeted your father for the first time since your funeral.<br />
<br />
“Hello, Mr. Donnelly.” I was amazed that my voice was so even. It almost sounded as if it had come from someone else. I shifted my gaze quickly to your mother beside him, still small and unassuming, her tiny hand barely able to grasp his arm. “Mrs. Donnelly,” I said to her, more gently this time. She didn’t smile at me, nor did she frown. She merely looked afraid.<br />
<br />
“I can’t believe you have the gall to show your face in this club,” he said through gritted teeth. “I told you what would happen if I ever had the misfortune of running into you here. Have you forgotten already?”<br />
<br />
I hadn’t, though I had buried it pretty well. It suddenly dawned on me why I always made Katrina leave before the day grew long: because I knew that’s when your family liked to come play a couple sets of tennis before dinner on the weekends. I refused to let your father’s threats keep me from the club where I’d been a member since birth, but I also had no wish to poke the sleeping giant. So I always arrived here with Kate at midday and made sure we left before four o’clock.<br />
<br />
Now, as I looked up at him, I realized that maybe that’s why I brought Bella here tonight. Perhaps my subconscious had outwitted me at last, and forced me toward the resolution I’d been so desperately trying to avoid.<br />
<br />
“No sir, I haven’t forgotten your threats,” I said evenly. “But the fact is, I have a right to be here as much as you do.”<br />
<br />
“The Platt family name got you in here, but trust me, I can get you out.” He added begrudgingly, “Your mother is a good woman. She’s the only reason I haven’t had you removed from here long ago.”<br />
<br />
“Go ahead, if I’m that much of an affront to you. There are other places to play tennis in this city.”<br />
<br />
“An affront?!” he spat. “An affront doesn’t begin to describe what you are. You’re a goddamned criminal. You should be behind bars for what you did.”<br />
<br />
I could feel Bella’s hand on my arm then, gripping me tightly. I couldn’t bear to look at her face. I could already feel the stares, hear the whispers, of everyone else behind us in the dining room. I was surprised that the staff hadn’t interceded already. I was sure that the minute we raised our voices, they would.<br />
<br />
“Despite what you think, I did nothing wrong. I know you’re looking for someone to blame, but I am not responsible for your daughter’s actions.”<br />
<br />
Even as I said the words, I knew I didn’t entirely believe them. I wanted to, but I never could quite convince myself. And I sure as hell couldn’t convince your father.<br />
<br />
His face began to turn purple then, his breath huffing in palpable fumes from his barrel chest. “How can you look me in the eye and say you had nothing to do with what happened to her? She called me the night before, crying her eyes out over your sorry ass once again; and twenty-four hours later, she was dead!”<br />
<br />
Bella’s fingers were daggers in my arm. I heard her voice, small and frightened, saying my name. I put my hand protectively over hers, but my eyes never left the enraged countenance of your father glaring at me.<br />
<br />
“Your daughter was sick. If you hadn’t ignored the warning signs all those years, maybe she wouldn’t have been as far gone as she was. Every time I thought I had her convinced to get help, you’d talk her out of it and tell her she was fine,” I hissed, my voice growing brittle with resentment at the memories he’d unearthed, like ghouls rising from a haunted crypt.<br />
<br />
“She was fine until she took up with you!” he accused, his voice cracking with emotion. “She was an A-student. Smart, beautiful, full of life. By the time you were through with her, she was depressed and struggling just to make grades; calling me every other week, crying over the latest stunt you’d pulled.” He was practically shaking now. “You can try to kid yourself but you’ll never fool me. Her blood is on your hands just as much as if you’d wielded the knife yourself!”<br />
<br />
I stared at him, dumbstruck. His version of our history was so skewed that I barely recognized it. I wondered if that’s what you had told him, or if that’s how he really saw you, and us. Maybe he had twisted what he did know into a past that he could live with, to absolve himself of any blame. <br />
<br />
Suddenly, I felt empathy for this man who was ready to grind me into a pulp under his heel. I knew what it felt like to want to change the past; to be unable to bear the guilt of the truth. He and I simply had different ways of dealing with the pain. Or not dealing with it, as the case may be.<br />
<br />
But I was done pulling the wool over my own eyes. I’d be damned if I’d let him continue to do the same.<br />
<br />
“You can make me the scapegoat---that’s fine. In a lot of ways, I deserve it. But you’re the one who’s fooling yourself if you think your daughter was fine before she met me. She was ill, and it started long before I knew her. You turned a blind eye because you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want to admit that your perfect little princess had a flaw--that she might actually need professional help. She was acting out for years and you just put a fucking band-aid on it and told her she’d be fine. Tanya wasn’t fine. I made my share of mistakes with her, but if you’re looking for someone to blame, you’d better take a long look in the mirror and make sure your hands aren’t bloody, too.”<br />
<br />
He stared at me in unmitigated shock for a moment. I was just as shocked myself. I had never put any of those sentiments into words before, not even in all those useless letters I wrote to you. And now I stood there, nearly panting and quivering as much as your father was at the accusation. The tension between us was so strong that I felt like I might snap like a twig if I didn’t calm down. <br />
<br />
I didn’t have time to try. Your father’s shock swiftly turned back to its default setting in my presence---rage. I’ll never forget the livid look in his eyes as he shrugged off your mother’s timid grip on him and closed the already narrow space between us.<br />
<br />
“Don’t you dare utter my little girl's name ever again, you murdering piece of filth!” he bellowed. <br />
<br />
It only took a split second, but I swear I saw his hammy fist coming at me in slow-motion, fingers curling one at a time into a right hook aimed at the square of my jaw. Yet I still had no time to react; to defend myself or duck out of the way. The brutal crack of his upper-cut knocked my head sideways, rattling every bone of my scull. My teeth sliced into the tender flesh of my mouth and filled it with blood as my head whipped toward Bella. I heard her scream my name; saw the blur of her horrified face as I staggered into her. She tried to catch me, but she was no match for my taller, heavier frame.<br />
<br />
My head spun; my vision tripled. I felt my knees give way, and I was going down. But somehow, just before everything went black, I managed to look your father in the eyes and choke out a response to his knock-out punch.<br />
<br />
“Thank you.”Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-72723256972437551592011-10-22T17:38:00.000-05:002011-10-22T17:38:28.766-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 19 - Omission<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J4fUAGhyHMo/TqNF2UKR2_I/AAAAAAAABQI/EpfeJ1dduaE/s1600/BD%2Bstill%2B5.9.11%2Bcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="296" width="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J4fUAGhyHMo/TqNF2UKR2_I/AAAAAAAABQI/EpfeJ1dduaE/s400/BD%2Bstill%2B5.9.11%2Bcrop.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
<br />
Monday, September 6</b><br />
<br />
I'd never seen anyone get punched in the face in real life until today.<br />
<br />
I've never personally witnessed any barroom brawls or after-school showdowns, miraculously enough. I don't know how I managed to escape it until now.<br />
<br />
But I'll never forget the sound of Alice's fist hitting Rosalie's face. The smack of skin on skin; the crack of bone meeting bone. It was brief but brutal, for a fountain of blood spewed from Rose's left nostril a moment later.<br />
<br />
I wasn't sure what I felt in that moment. I'm generally against violence of any kind. But I can't deny that the tiniest thrill of exultation raced through me when Alice actually did what I'd only had the unfulfilled urge to do.<br />
<br />
After Esme and I had left the so-called "Chamber of Horrors," I caught a glimpse of Alice striding purposefully down the lawn out back. When I realized that Edward and Rosalie were also missing, my curiosity got the better of me, and I followed Alice down to the retaining wall.<br />
<br />
I only caught the tail end of Rosalie's words before Alice attacked her. She was once again belittling Jasper's abilities behind his back while complimenting Edward's. No wonder Alice lost her cool. My own ire had been growing as I stood behind her, listening carefully after she'd shushed me with a finger to her pursed lips when I approached. When she stomped around the corner to confront Rosalie, I followed close on her heels; but nothing could have prepared me for her swift retribution.<br />
<br />
Rosalie's screams were ear-splitting as blood gushed down her lip. She appeared too stunned to even think about hitting Alice back. The latter was busy yelling things like "How dare you spew such bullshit about Jasper?" and "Where the hell do you get off trying to bully my brother like that?"<br />
<br />
And through it all, Edward was staring at me.<br />
<br />
Several emotions flitted across his features before they settled into one primary, easily recognizable expression: fear.<br />
<br />
I'd seen it so many times in the past week that I was almost immune to it now. Almost ready to scream as loud as Rosalie and tell him, "Unless you're hiding a secret life as a mafia hit-man, or you drown sacks full of puppies for kicks, there is nothing you could do to make me stop loving you." And even then, I wasn't so sure about the mafia thing being a deal-breaker, since he'd be killing bad guys anyway.<br />
<br />
After Alice enumerated Rosalie's numerous sins, she was riled up enough again to give her a shove. This time, Rosalie was angry enough to shove back. Edward finally broke out of his trance then and pulled the girls apart. He easily held Alice at bay, literally picking her up off the ground with one arm and dragging her away from Rosalie while she kicked and struggled against him.<br />
<br />
"Pipe down, pipsqueak," he admonished calmly, the voice of reason among the fray.<br />
<br />
"You broke my nose!" Rosalie sobbed, holding up her sleeve to stymie the stream of blood.<br />
<br />
"I did not, you wuss. I didn't hit you that hard. Haven't you ever had a nosebleed before?" Alice snarled.<br />
<br />
"Regardless, let's get her back to the house and have Dad look at it," Edward said, still sounding remarkably cool and collected. In fact, he sounded a lot like his father in that moment.<br />
<br />
I finally managed to move from the spot where I'd been frozen in shock. I went to Rosalie and put an arm around her shoulder while she sniffled and blinked back tears. Edward motioned for us to follow, then turned back toward the house, still grasping Alice firmly in one arm to keep her ire in check. I steered Rosalie carefully behind them and we followed them up the gently sloping lawn.<br />
<br />
Once inside the house, a whole new flurry of chaos broke out. Emmett flew into a rage at the sight of his girlfriend's bloody face. He demanded to know what had happened as he pulled Rosalie away from me and cradled her in one beefy arm. Esme gasped at the sight of all the blood, then ran to the kitchen sink to get fresh towels and ice. Carlisle corralled Emmett and Rose into the kitchen behind his wife, then sat Rose in a chair so he could examine her.<br />
<br />
While he and Esme cleaned her up and Emmett soothed her, a confused Jasper approached the rest of us where we'd congregated in the kitchen doorway.<br />
<br />
"What the hell happened?" he whispered.<br />
<br />
"Nothing she didn't deserve," Alice hissed. She flexed her right hand a couple of times, then rubbed it gingerly with her left.<br />
<br />
"You didn't," Jasper exclaimed. He looked to Edward, then me. We nodded in unison.<br />
<br />
At first he appeared incredulous; then baffled. We shrugged, not knowing how to explain, but obviously not entirely disapproving of Alice's outburst.<br />
<br />
Jasper could not hide the tiny grin that stole over his face. "My kind of woman," he murmured quietly into her ear, his lips touching her earlobe in a quick kiss.<br />
<br />
She returned his tiny grin and whispered softly, "I'd defend you to the death."<br />
<br />
"I didn't know I needed defending," he muttered, glancing warily in Rosalie's direction.<br />
<br />
I realized then that their relationship was not that different from mine and Edward's. I couldn't imagine leaving him to go to school in another state, so I knew how hard the next few months would be for them.<br />
<br />
Emmett looked relieved when his father ascertained that Rosalie's nose was not, in fact, broken. But when he discovered that Alice was her attacker, I feared for a moment that he might inflict the same injury, or worse, on his sister.<br />
<br />
"What the hell were you thinking?" he bellowed. And then, to Rose, "You should file assault charges against her."<br />
<br />
Rosalie shook her head wearily while Alice defended herself.<br />
<br />
"If you had heard the things she was saying about Jasper, and Edward and Bella, you wouldn't blame me one bit," she insisted.<br />
<br />
"Alice," Carlisle reprimanded her sharply. "We raised you better than that. That kind of behavior is unacceptable in this household."<br />
<br />
"We weren't in the house, technically," she grumbled.<br />
<br />
Esme gave Alice a look so severe that I began to quake in my sneakers a little on her behalf.<br />
<br />
"You apologize to Rosalie immediately," she demanded. "I don't care what she said. Physical violence is never justified."<br />
<br />
"It's okay," Rose said nasally through the towel-wrapped ice pack she held to her face. "She's right. I deserved it. I'm the one who owes you all an apology."<br />
<br />
The room fell silent as everyone stared at her in surprise.<br />
<br />
She took a deep breath and continued. "I'd like the chance to explain myself, if you'll let me." Her eyes swept the room anxiously, waiting for protests. Alice looked ready to interject, but Carlisle's eyes silenced her.<br />
<br />
"Of course, dear," Esme encouraged, giving Rosalie a pat on the arm.<br />
<br />
I'll start from the beginning so Dr. and Mrs. Cullen know what's going on. No more secrets," Rose said wearily.<br />
<br />
"You don't need to do this right now, babe," Emmett said, covering her free hand on the kitchen table with his.<br />
<br />
Esme added, "Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until you're up to speaking."<br />
<br />
Rose shook her head slightly, trying to keep the gauze packing that Carlisle had stuffed up her nose in place. It would have been a comical sight if she weren't clearly still in pain.<br />
<br />
"No, I want to get everything out in the open," she insisted. She looked carefully around the room at us, breathed deeply again and began.<br />
<br />
"It started the week before last, when Alice invited me to sit in on one of Jasper's band rehearsals. I know you all wanted my honest opinion about them, but I sugar-coated it a bit." She turned to Jasper then. "The truth is, I think your band needs some work. You're talented and you have potential, but you're still not quite gelling. I feel like something is missing."<br />
<br />
Jasper nodded slowly, but held his tongue.<br />
<br />
"What I didn't tell you is that I think what's missing is Edward," she said bluntly. "The minute he sat in with you, everything started clicking on all cylinders. He's very gifted."<br />
<br />
"That he is," Jasper agreed. Edward looked embarrassed.<br />
<br />
"In fact, Edward is so gifted that I couldn't help but wonder why Bella hadn't mentioned it to me," Rose continued. "Her job is to find talent for our label, so it didn't make sense to me that she would be hiding someone with so much potential.<br />
<br />
"My imagination started to run wild, and I did a few things I'm not at all proud of. I snooped in Bella's desk until I found some recordings of Edward. I jumped to all kinds of crazy conclusions when I heard them. I should have confronted Bella directly, but I ambushed Edward instead."<br />
<br />
The room was still silent as a stone. I was a little shocked that Rosalie was owning up to everything so frankly.<br />
<br />
"I was hoping that the element of surprise would get him to spill the beans," she explained. "I played the recordings for him and demanded to know if they were his. I wanted to know if the two of them were hiding his talent from me for a reason."<br />
<br />
She stopped and leveled her gaze at me. Her eyes were fearful, but determined.<br />
<br />
"What Edward didn't tell you is that I suspected the two of you were conspiring to go off on your own. I was afraid that he was trying to lure you away from Java Noise to start your own label, with him as your meal ticket."<br />
<br />
I gaped at her in disbelief. "What?" I let out a small laugh because the idea was so ludicrous to me. It took me a moment before the true meaning of her words sank in. But when they did, I could feel indignation begin to boil under my skin.<br />
<br />
"After all this time, how could you doubt my loyalty to the company? My loyalty to you?"<br />
<br />
She grimaced, then took a deep breath. "Because I had my own Edward when I was your age," she said.<br />
<br />
A low murmur traversed the room. I shook my head in confusion. "I don't understand."<br />
<br />
"Java Noise isn't the first record company I've worked for," she informed us. "I moved to Los Angeles straight out of college and interned at a very big label whose name I'll leave out of this. I was a talent scout, just like you, only on a bigger, more competitive scale. I already had a couple of great acquisitions under my belt when I stumbled across an aspiring singer-songwriter a lot like Edward. Talented, charismatic, with that extra special something that can capture a crowd and hold it in the palm of his hand.<br />
<br />
"I went to bat for him like I'd never done before, trying to get him signed to our label. But because he was so green, and there were so many like him trying to get their feet in the door, our company offered him a deal that would have benefited us more than him should he make it big. He and his management balked at signing the contract and made a counter-offer, trying to get a higher percentage of profits and royalties. The label refused to compromise, and cut him loose instead."<br />
<br />
She let out a heavy sigh and readjusted her ice pack. "I was so invested in him that I was devastated. It didn't help matters that my relationship with him had developed beyond a professional one." She gave Emmett a guilty glance, then shot Edward and I a meaningful look.<br />
<br />
"At the time, My Space and Youtube were still fairly new and growing like mad on the internet. It was suddenly possible for artists to self-promote on the cheap like they'd never been able to before. My 'Edward' convinced me that with my connections and his talent, we could make it on our own. We could start our own label together and reap all the rewards without any middle-men in the way."<br />
<br />
Her brief smile was wry. "I was young and cocky, and head over heels for that guy. I didn't want to lose him, and he had me believing that we could really do it all ourselves. I was so naïve."<br />
<br />
She paused, her melancholy gaze far away for a moment.<br />
<br />
"So, I did it. I quit my job and put all of my energy into our new DIY venture. Long story short, we were in over our heads. I couldn't get the financing to record and promote him properly on my own, and the results from the new social media were underwhelming. Frustration and failure took their toll on our relationship, professional and personal. By the time all was said and done, I was alone. No job, no client, no boyfriend. I came crawling back home with my tail between my legs.<br />
<br />
"I was sure I was going to quit the business then. I felt exhausted and defeated. But pretty soon I found myself hanging out in clubs again, watching the local talent. And I realized that I'll never stop getting a charge out of finding that diamond in the rough that you just know, in your gut, you can polish into something brilliant. So I started nosing around for A&R jobs in the area, and I was lucky enough that Sam and Mark at Java gave me a second chance."<br />
<br />
She paused then, looking cautiously around the room at all of us. "I'm not trying to make excuses for the accusations I made, and the way I made them. I'm just explaining how my mind jumped to the worst-case scenario."<br />
<br />
Edward was still frowning at her, his brow creased in accusation. "So basically you're saying that you measured Bella by your own admittedly short yardstick."<br />
<br />
Rosalie bristled slightly, but then nodded. "Yes. It was unfair, to both of you. I'm sorry for accusing you the way I did, Edward. I was completely out of line."<br />
<br />
He nodded almost imperceptibly, but didn't answer her.<br />
<br />
She turned her guilty gaze toward me. "Bella, I am truly sorry for not telling you everything, and for not trusting you. You have a much more level head on your shoulders than I did at your age, so I should have known better. I just hope you can give me the opportunity to try to regain your trust."<br />
<br />
I could still feel resentment percolating under the surface, despite her confession and apology. "I don't like being played for a fool," I said bitterly.<br />
<br />
Her face fell. "I understand."<br />
<br />
"I don't like holding grudges, either," I told her. "But you have to give me some time."<br />
<br />
She nodded. "Of course," she said quietly.<br />
<br />
Emmett gave Rosalie's hand a squeeze. His expression was sympathetic rather than affronted. Apparently she had already revealed everything to him, but had kept the rest of us in the dark. I wasn't sure how I would be able to forgive her for assuming the worst about me, even now that I had a better understanding of how she arrived at her conclusions. But the fact that she and both Cullen brothers had kept the full truth from me hurt worse than Rosalie's suspicions themselves. I wondered why they all thought I was some fragile flower who needed to be protected. If anything, I'd rather get hit with the whole ugly truth at once so that I know what I'm dealing with.<br />
<br />
I looked at Edward, wondering why he couldn't seem to grasp that. Wondering why he thought it was better to shelter me than level with me.<br />
<br />
"Don't you have something to say to Jasper?" Alice suddenly piped up. Her nostrils flared in indignation as she glared at Rosalie.<br />
<br />
Rose shot Jasper a sheepish glance. "I'm sorry if I've judged you harshly. I shouldn't write you off based on one rehearsal. You do have moments of brilliance on the guitar. You were pretty rockin' at the Black and Red Ball." She gave him a hesitant smile then, which he returned.<br />
<br />
"It's fine. Alice is a bit over-protective when it comes to apparent slights. I'm a little thicker-skinned than she gives me credit for being," Jasper said evenly.<br />
<br />
"Sounds familiar," I mumbled under my breath. I felt Edward's eyes on me, but I did not lift my own to meet them.<br />
<br />
"I think there's someone else here tonight who needs to make an apology," Carlisle said with a warning tone. He gave his daughter a stern look. "Alice?" he prompted.<br />
<br />
Alice let out an aggravated sigh. "Fine. I'm sorry I hit you," she mumbled to Rosalie. "It was bad enough when I heard the way you lied to Bella and tricked my brother. But when you insulted my man, that was it. I kind of lost it."<br />
<br />
Rose winced as she flipped the ice pack over and reapplied it to the side of her nose. "I get it. I probably would have done the same." She gave Emmett a warm, protective look. Then she shifted her attention to Carlisle and Esme.<br />
<br />
"I apologize for ruining your Labor Day party. I would have chosen a different time, a different way to deal with my mistakes if I could have. But I'm glad I told the truth." She gave Alice a bitter smile. "Maybe I should thank you for forcing it out of me."<br />
<br />
Alice shrugged, her scowl subsiding a bit. "It's always better to get that stuff out in the open instead of letting it fester into something worse," she said. I didn't miss the quick glance she gave Edward.<br />
<br />
"I know," Rosalie agreed quietly. "I just felt so foolish and guilty for assuming the worst that my first instinct was to try to make it go away somehow. I didn't want to hurt Bella any worse than I already had, and neither did Edward." She turned to me. "We were probably wrong to try to spare you, and I'm sorry. I won't pretend that I wasn't trying to protect myself, too. I was afraid you'd never be able to forgive me."<br />
<br />
She paused, her expression cautiously hopeful. I couldn't quite bring myself to let her off the hook just yet.<br />
<br />
"I appreciate your honesty," I said at last. "If you had just explained all of this from the very beginning, I might have understood your motivations better. And I might have been able to forgive a little more quickly."<br />
<br />
She nodded. "I don't know why some lessons have to be learned the hard way."<br />
<br />
"That's just life," Esme said, reaching out and giving Rosalie a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "I'm glad you were brave enough to tell us your story. If you mean as much to Emmett as I think you do, then I consider you a part of this family. And in this family, we don't expect perfection. Just honesty. I think you'll find that when you have the truth on your side, you can deal with just about anything else that comes at you."<br />
<br />
Rosalie's smile was grateful. "You're very kind, Mrs. Cullen. Kinder than I deserve."<br />
<br />
"Esme," she replied warmly. "Call me Esme."<br />
<br />
With those words, I knew that Rosalie was officially a part of the Cullen family, and I'd better figure out a way to get along with her. Never mind the fact that at that moment, I couldn't even fathom working with her every day, let alone counting her among my closest friends.<br />
<br />
Carlisle got up from the table and disappeared for a bit, then returned with a packet of pill samples. He filled a glass of water for Rosalie and handed her the packet.<br />
<br />
"These will help with any pain and swelling you might have," he said. "And I'd like you to make an appointment to visit my office this week so I can follow up and make sure you're okay. It's the least I can do after the way my daughter treated you."<br />
<br />
He gave Alice a look so disappointed and disapproving that it would make the Pope feel unworthy. I began to understand why Edward had often referred to his father as the Guilt Trip Master.<br />
<br />
As Rosalie took one of the prescription pain pills, Carlisle added, "They'll probably also make you sleepy, so take care if you're driving anywhere."<br />
<br />
"I'll be doing the driving tonight," Emmett asserted, stroking Rosalie's hair.<br />
<br />
"I should probably be going soon, anyway," she said. "I've imposed on everyone enough here today."<br />
<br />
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, dear," Esme offered.<br />
<br />
"Thank you, but we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," Rose answered, giving me a tentative smile. "Holidays always make the rest of the work week busier than usual."<br />
<br />
I nodded in agreement. I knew that we would have plenty to keep us occupied at Java for the next few days. I hate that I'm facing the prospect of work with a faint feeling of dread rather than enthusiasm like I usually do. I wonder if that will ever change. I hope so. I don't want Rosalie's mistrust to permanently taint my attitude toward the job I've always loved.<br />
<br />
Esme began to put together care packages of leftover food for us to take home, and I quickly offered to help. She refused, of course, and made Alice do it instead. I couldn't help but think how well you and Esme would have gotten along, Mom. I'm having a harder time imagining rough-around-the-edges Charlie hitting it off with genteel and refined Carlisle, though. And yet, I know it's going to happen one of these days. Even after today's disappointments, I know Edward is the one. I can't imagine my life without him anymore.<br />
<br />
We said our good-byes with hugs, just as we had said our hellos. When Alice gripped me in a quick embrace, she whispered, "I'm not sorry I hit her. I still feel a lot worse for you."<br />
<br />
I chuckled a little and told her "thanks." She winked and said she'd call me soon. I realized again how much I was going to miss her myself while she was away.<br />
<br />
The trip to the dock was eerily silent. Soon after we left the Cullen property, Rosalie fell asleep. She didn't stir when Emmett turned on the radio and let it drone softly in the background.<br />
<br />
I gazed out the window, unable to appreciate the beauty of the passing landscape the way I had earlier. After a few miles, I felt the warmth of Edward's hand on mine, making me turn to him. His eyes were plagued with doubt and worry. I turned my hand, palm up, so that he could lace his fingers through mine. He held my hand, and my gaze, until it burned through me and I had to look away. He lifted my hand to his mouth then, and pressed his warm lips upon it.<br />
<br />
<i>Forgive me.</i><br />
<br />
I didn't need to hear the words. I saw the entreaty in his eyes.<br />
<br />
<i>I'll always forgive you.</i> <br />
<br />
I wondered if he was as astute at reading my unspoken language. If he was, he seemed to question it once again.<br />
<br />
I sighed; my eyes fell. Why did no one trust in me?<br />
<br />
The ferry ride home was a little better, probably because Edward and I found a secluded place to sit, away from Rosalie and Emmett. Even though the air was getting cooler as hazy sun set behind its cloud cover, I preferred the fresh breeze of the upper deck to the inside cabins. We sat side by side, looking out over the water. Well, I was looking at the water. I could feel Edward looking at me.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest with you," he said softly after a long moment.<br />
<br />
I returned his gaze, even though the pain in his eyes cut me. "I know you are."<br />
<br />
"I just didn't want to hurt you like that. I never want to be the one to hurt you."<br />
<br />
"Rosalie is the one who did that by not trusting me. You didn't hurt me until you added to what she did by not trusting me to handle it. Do you understand that?"<br />
<br />
His eyes closed and he took a deep breath before opening them. "Yes."<br />
<br />
"Even Emmett knew everything before I did. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"<br />
<br />
His eyes finally wavered, then lost the battle with mine. "I'm sorry," he reiterated. I could barely hear his hoarse reply over the wind and waves that helped push the ferry eastward.<br />
<br />
"Edward, I don't want you to feel guilty for trying to protect me. I love that that's your first instinct. But I'd still rather you have enough confidence in me to be honest with me and treat me like your equal; your best friend. More than your best friend."<br />
<br />
He twisted his body toward mine on the bench and grabbed both of my hands in his. "You are all of those things to me. I don't want you to ever doubt that." He paused, glancing down at our hands, hit thumbs smoothing the outline of mine. "I'm not used to being that open with anyone. Confiding everything. Holding nothing back. I've been more open with you than with anyone else - let you see parts of me that I never show anyone. You're in there so deep . . ."<br />
<br />
He trailed off, and his eyes swallowed mine. I felt myself drowning again, giving myself over to his undertow. I resisted; kept my head above the surface.<br />
<br />
"But it's still not all of you, is it?"<br />
<br />
The motion of Edward's thumbs stopped cold. His face hardened around the edges. The hypnotic swirl of his eyes stilled.<br />
<br />
The breath left my body in a disappointed sigh. I squeezed his hands tightly. "I know how hard it is to give everything. It's scary. But I'm greedy. I want all of you. Every bit. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. Whatever it is, I can take it. I will take it."<br />
<br />
He stared at me in something like disbelief. I wondered how he could doubt my love for him after all we'd been through together. Even though it had only been a short time, it felt like eternity somehow. Like he was the destiny I didn't know was mine until I found him.<br />
<br />
"I wish I knew why," he murmured.<br />
<br />
I huffed a small laugh. "You might as well ask why the sky is blue. Or gray, as the case may be," I added with a wry grin at the clouds. "It just is. I love you."<br />
<br />
I didn't know what else to say. It was all that was necessary, as far as I was concerned.<br />
<br />
"There aren't enough words to express what I feel for you," he replied. His eyes were as troubled as the sky above. And then, suddenly, his smile broke through the clouds. "But 'I love you, too' is a good start."<br />
<br />
I smiled back. "It's a very good start."<br />
<br />
I extricated one hand from his so I could reach up to touch his face. "I loved seeing all those pictures and videos of you at your Mom's," I told him. "I loved seeing how you became the man you are today."<br />
<br />
He raised a dubious eyebrow. "Well, if you wanted the warts-and-all version, you certainly got a good dose of that." His grin faded. "Why did you look so sad when we got to the photos of all those silly high school and college formals I went to? Were my tuxes that bad?"<br />
<br />
I couldn't seem to laugh at his joke. "Because your eyes are so different now," I told him. "You were completely carefree then. It wasn't that long ago, but you looked so much younger. So . . . I don't know; full of promise? Or confidence, maybe? Your face was just so smooth and untroubled. You still look that way when you're sleeping."<br />
<br />
I stroked his face now; and of course, it was lined with care, maybe even regret, as he gazed at me.<br />
<br />
"I wish I had met you then," he said. "I might still that look that way. While I'm awake," he added with a sardonic laugh.<br />
<br />
I smiled wistfully. "You wouldn't have glanced at me sideways then. I wasn't your type."<br />
<br />
"Then I was a fool."<br />
<br />
I shook my head. "Things happen the way they're supposed to happen. There's a reason we found each other when we did. You saved me." <i>Let me save you,</i> I wanted to add.<br />
<br />
"That may be a bit generous. I think you were doing all right on your own."<br />
<br />
"But you made me better than all right. You made me so much more."<br />
<br />
"It's the least I could do." He looked like he wanted to say more, but his words were cut off by the blast of the ferry's horn, announcing our impending arrival at the Washington Street terminal.<br />
<br />
"We'd better find our ride," Edward said, rising from the bench, still holding my hand. I stood up and stretched a little, and we went off in search of Emmett and Rosalie.<br />
<br />
We found them inside, huddled at a small table, drinking iced tea. I gasped when I saw Rose. Her nose and cheek were swollen, and a faint purple bruise was beginning to bloom under her left eye.<br />
<br />
"I must be a pretty sight," she grimaced at my reaction.<br />
<br />
"Alice went too far. She shouldn't have hit you," Edward said reproachfully.<br />
<br />
"That's the understatement of the year," Emmett growled. "There's no excuse for her behavior. We're not little kids anymore, duking it out on the playground."<br />
<br />
Rose waved her hand at him, as if to calm him down. "I had it coming. I'll live. I've been through worse."<br />
<br />
"You should have slugged her back," Edward said. "You could have gotten in a good punch before I broke it up."<br />
<br />
Rosalie let out a snort. "Somehow I don't think it would have helped matters. I can take my lumps. I'm just glad you two didn't take a shot at me. You would have been completely justified."<br />
<br />
I shook my head at her. "Not my style."<br />
<br />
She smiled up at me. "I know. I should have remembered that all along."<br />
<br />
I got her meaning and tried to return her smile, but it still felt forced.<br />
<br />
Emmett helped Rosalie up and kept a protective arm around her as we prepared to leave the ferry. After docking and retrieving the Range Rover, Emmett drove us back to Edward's place, where I'd stayed the night before. The conversation was mostly small talk revolving around the good parts of our day at the Cullen home, and what the work week held for each of us. By the time we got to the loft, the sun had set and I was beginning to feel wiped out by the events of the day.<br />
<br />
As Edward and I silently listened to the service elevator's gears haul us to the top floor, I mustered the courage to make a request.<br />
<br />
"Is it all right if I spend the night at my place? I'm really tired, and I have some things I need to take care of." At the sight of his disappointed face, I quickly added, "Boring things like ironing clothes for work and paying bills. You know, the stuff it's easy to forget about when I'm with you."<br />
<br />
His half-smile was wan. "Sure. I should probably do some of that myself."<br />
<br />
I let out a guffaw. "Do you even own an iron?"<br />
<br />
"I think so, somewhere," he said, giving me my favorite crooked grin. "Maybe I should see if I can excavate it from my closet."<br />
<br />
Once inside the apartment, he watched silently as I gathered my things from the bathroom and bedroom and packed them in my overnight bag.<br />
<br />
"I should have driven my truck here," I said sheepishly as we headed for the front door. "I'm sorry you have to drive me home."<br />
<br />
He frowned at me, looking mildly offended. "I don't mind driving you home."<br />
<br />
The silence felt heavy as we made the trip from SoDo to my duplex on the west side. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened after Rosalie left the "Chamber of Horrors," and Esme and I sat alone, looking at Edward's photo album. I was lapping him up with a spoon, drinking in the adorable tow-headed childhood Edward; the skinny, awkward adolescent version; the young, increasingly handsome teenager; and the rather wild-looking college incarnation.<br />
<br />
Smattered throughout his pictorial history were girls. Little girls, stealing kisses. Pre-teen girls, blushing and holding his hand. High school girls, fresh-faced and clearly smitten. College girls, some apparently drunk, most eager-looking.<br />
<br />
And then I saw her.<br />
<br />
There was only one picture, at the bottom of the last page in the album. It was taken on the deck of the Cullen house; I recognized the landscape in the background. Edward and a pretty strawberry blonde stood arm in arm, smiling. Her grin was huge and confident; his was slightly strained. His expression was different in the picture with this girl than in any of the others. There was tension in his posture as his hand gripped her shoulder tightly.<br />
<br />
The blonde was pale and slightly freckled, with one of those effortlessly beautiful faces that show up in skin care commercials. But there was something a little "off" in her gaze. It was too intense; too exuberant. She was just . . . too much. I couldn't put my finger on it. I was strangely disturbed at the sight of her, and yet, I felt an odd sadness as well, which startled me. I finally realized that the emotion she evoked in me was pity. But why should such a lovely girl, with Edward at her side, warrant my pity?<br />
<br />
Esme made a low sound of surprise when she saw the photo I was staring at. She quickly closed the back cover, forced a smile and said, "Well, I'm sure Edward will be furious with me for showing you all of these, especially the bathtub pictures."<br />
<br />
"He'll get over it," I said with a smile. "I'm so glad you did. I enjoyed every minute of it immensely."<br />
<br />
Her smile turned genuine then. "You're good for him, Bella. I don't know if you see that, but I can assure you, you bring out the best in him. I'm so glad he met you."<br />
<br />
"That works both ways, Esme," I replied. She gave me a hug, and I thought of you, Mom. It was just the kind of hug you would have given me.<br />
<br />
I glanced over at Edward now, frowning purposefully at the road ahead. We were almost at my place. I deliberated for a moment, and then tried prying at the lid on the can of proverbial worms.<br />
<br />
"I saw a picture of Tanya today."<br />
<br />
I watched him like a hawk, unsurprised at his immediate stiffening, his intake of breath.<br />
<br />
"She was very pretty."<br />
<br />
He exhaled loudly; I could see his visible effort to calm himself. "Yes, she was."<br />
<br />
The fact that he didn't correct me when I spoke of her in the past tense did not escape me. His reply was merely confirmation of what I already knew; what I had known subconsciously for some time.<br />
<br />
"She's dead, isn't she?"<br />
<br />
His face tensed once more, but in a different way this time. It was the look of someone holding back emotions; keeping a torrent dammed and shored away. I knew all too well how that felt.<br />
<br />
"Yes," he said at last, his voice coarse with effort.<br />
<br />
I waited, but I knew there would be no more explanation. Not yet. And though my patience was being tested to its very limit, I remembered what it had taken for my own dam to burst. I tried to imagine how I would have felt if Edward had pushed the issue and nagged me, trying to make me to relive a horror I'd just as soon forget. I probably would have resented him for it and pushed him away.<br />
<br />
And so, as I gazed sadly at Edward's struggling form, I said simply, "I'm sorry."<br />
<br />
He said nothing; just shook his head wearily. He probably wanted to tell me not to be sorry; that he didn't want my pity. But he looked tired. As tired as I felt right now.<br />
<br />
When he pulled up to the house, he quickly got out of the Volvo and grabbed my overnight bag out of the back seat. He carried it as he escorted me up the stairs to the landing, ever the gentleman.<br />
<br />
"Thanks," I said softly as I took the bag from him. "I actually had a good time, despite what happened. I'm glad you took me out to your family's house. That means a lot to me."<br />
<br />
His gentle hand cradled my face. "You mean everything to me," he said, his voice still raw. "Everything."<br />
<br />
I nodded and reached up to kiss him. His lips were urgent against mine, and I could feel our kiss good-night quickly escalate to something more. It was always that way with him, and even as I relished our passion, I pulled back from it this time.<br />
<br />
"I love you," I said in reassurance to the uncertainty in his eyes.<br />
<br />
I turned to open the door, but stopped when I heard his velvet voice, low and purposeful.<br />
<br />
"I will give you everything, Bella. I promise you that."<br />
<br />
I turned back long enough to see the steely determination in his eyes. It made me sad to see him work so hard, when he could just let go and be free at last.<br />
<br />
"I know," I replied.<br />
<br />
He began to back down the stairs, still staring up at me. It took every ounce of strength I had to turn away and lift my leaden feet through the doorway. I looked back and watched through the door as he disappeared into the dark, the glow of the Volvo's taillights the last thing I saw as they streaked down the street.<br />
<br />
I closed the door behind me and sagged against it, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.<br />
<br />
"Wow. Rough day?" Angela remarked from the sofa. I laughed a little when I saw that she had our bills spread out on the coffee table before her and her laptop at the ready.<br />
<br />
"Parts of it," I answered. I left my bag by the door and collapsed on the couch next to my roommate. I regaled her with the whole story, while she made the appropriate responses of indignation where necessary.<br />
<br />
"Unbelievable," she said at the conclusion of my tale. "How are you gonna work with that woman every day?" she asked in reference to Rosalie.<br />
<br />
I shook my head. "No idea. I'd like to be a big enough person to forgive, but I don't know if I can forget it."<br />
<br />
"I don't know if I could, either," she said. "Oh, by the way, your dad called. He forgot you were spending the day out on Bainbridge Island. I told him to try your cell, but he just said for you to call him when you got back."<br />
<br />
"Really? Huh. His ears must have been burning. I was just telling Edward today that I was missing him."<br />
<br />
I assured Angela I'd help her with the bills in a minute, then dug my cell out of my purse, went to my room and called Charlie.<br />
<br />
"Hey, Bells," he exclaimed when he picked up the phone. "How was your day with the rich folks?"<br />
<br />
I managed a laugh. "It was good, for the most part. There were a few Labor Day fireworks, though."<br />
<br />
"Little late in the year for those, isn't it?" he asked. His tone told me he got my meaning, but wasn't going to pry.<br />
<br />
"Definitely. Don't worry, I'll tell you the whole story soon."<br />
<br />
"That new boyfriend of yours is treating you right, isn't he?" he grumbled.<br />
<br />
"Yes, Dad. Edward treats me very well. Too well, sometimes," I answered cryptically.<br />
<br />
"Huh. So when am I gonna get to meet this kid? You gonna bring him up north for a visit sometime?"<br />
<br />
"Maybe," I hedged, still trying in vain to picture my dad and Edward in the same room together. "I have actually been thinking about coming up for a visit, if you're not too busy."<br />
<br />
"I'm never too busy for my little girl," he said, in that gruff-yet-tender way of his. "I got you a birthday present. It'd be great if you could come collect it in person."<br />
<br />
"Dad, you didn't have to do that," I protested feebly.<br />
<br />
"Of course I did. It's nothing big; just something I thought you'd like to have."<br />
<br />
"Sounds nice, thanks." I wondered if he could hear the smile in my voice. "I'm going sailing with Edward next weekend, but maybe I can come up to Forks after that. I have the feeling I might want to take a little vacation time from work if I can swing it."<br />
<br />
"I know that's a hard time for you, Bells. It is for me, too." Dad's sigh was sympathetic. He assumed I was talking only about the anniversary of the accident. "Maybe it would be a good thing for both of us if you could make it up here for a few days."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I think so, too," I agreed. "I'll see if I can get some time off from work and make it happen."<br />
<br />
After Dad and I said our good-byes, I realized I felt a sense of relief. A little sabbatical in the sleepy town of Forks might be just what I need. I want a break from Rosalie's suspicious mind, and Jake's misplaced jealousy.<br />
<br />
I refuse to listen to the tiny voice in my head suggesting that, as much as I'll miss him, maybe I need a break from Edward's insecurity, too.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-81656008932883089342011-10-16T15:11:00.000-05:002011-10-16T15:11:48.034-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, day 8<b><i>Edward Cullen’s Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Monday, September 6</b><br />
<br />
Every time I have to ride the ferry, I remember why I hate it so much.<br />
<br />
No matter what I do, that one particular memory of you nags at the corners of my mind, wanting to replay in its entirety. I never let it, if I can help it.<br />
<br />
But even as I sat next to Bella today, concentrating on how pretty she looked with the blue waters of the Sound over her shoulder, I heard your words echo in my ears.<br />
<br />
<i>What if I jumped? Would you come in after me? Or would you let me drown?</i><br />
<br />
And then you laughed, in that slightly unhinged way that gave me my first glimpse of the truth about you. The disturbing sound of a joke too frightening to be funny.<br />
<br />
<i>Come on, let’s do it! Let’s jump together. I’m a good swimmer; so are you. We’ll see how long it takes for the Coast Guard to come rescue us . . . </i><br />
<br />
I let out a sick laugh now as I remembered my response. <i>Are you insane? Do you have a death wish or something?</i><br />
<br />
They were rhetorical questions at the time. I just blamed it on the E then. You were high as a kite that evening. Again. I think that was about the time that I began to grow weary of being your babysitter.<br />
<br />
“What was that for?” Bella’s question thankfully derailed my train of thought.<br />
<br />
“What?” I asked nonchalantly, trying to mask the shudder of anxiety that had just run down my spine.<br />
<br />
“That little laugh.”<br />
<br />
“Oh . . . just remembering your buddy Jacob’s face the other day when he was threatening me to treat you right, or else,” I covered quickly.<br />
<br />
“Ugh.” Bella rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe he called you out like that. Ridiculous. You treat me like a princess,” she insisted.<br />
<br />
I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard Rosalie emit a snort not unlike the one I’d just uttered moments ago. I glanced down the bench over Emmett’s hulking form in time to see her eyes dart away from me and look out over the water.<br />
<br />
I tried to ignore my suspicion and turned back to Bella. “You don’t deserve anything less.”<br />
<br />
Her eyes rolled skyward again and she gave my leg a gentle nudge with hers. “Whatever. Jake needs to step off. I don’t know how many times I have to explain to him that he and I are just friends.”<br />
<br />
“Well, maybe that’s all he’s doing---trying to be a good friend to you, Bella,” Rose piped up. “He’s just looking out for you. That’s not such a bad thing.”<br />
<br />
I could feel the hairs prickle on the back of my neck as my eyes narrowed at her. I was beginning to think I needed to get to the bottom of her animosity toward me. I couldn’t imagine what I’d done to provoke it.<br />
<br />
“She’s right,” I said, glancing down at Rose in time to catch her look of surprise. “I don’t mind you having someone at work who’s watching out for your best interests.”<br />
<br />
Rosalie’s eyes narrowed at me and her mouth formed a tight line. I knew my arrow had hit its mark. <br />
<br />
Bella’s look was knowing, even grateful, as she covered my hand with hers. I gave her a surreptitious wink; the ghost of a grin passed over her lips.<br />
<br />
Emmett cleared his throat loudly. “So, I wonder how Jasper fared at Mom and Dad’s all night?” he wondered aloud, wisely changing the subject. <br />
<br />
“Good question,” I said. I couldn’t believe it when Alice told me he was actually going to spend the whole weekend there, helping her pack. “We may not even have to fire up the barbecue. I’m sure Jasper’s already been thoroughly grilled,” I said with a chuckle.<br />
<br />
“Stop,” Bella said in exasperation. “I refuse to believe your parents are that bad. I like what I’ve seen of them so far. And I can’t wait to see where you grew up.”<br />
<br />
“Me neither,” Rose said, smiling up at my brother.<br />
<br />
“I’m sure they’ll be only too happy to give you a mind-numbing tour of the house and the grounds,” I sighed.<br />
<br />
Emmett chimed in then. “Ah, yes. Brace yourselves, ladies, because that will include a long and laborious stay in the Chamber of Horrors.” He raised an ominous eyebrow at them, then at me.<br />
<br />
“What the hell are you talking about?” Rose laughed.<br />
<br />
“The Chamber of Horrors is what we Cullen kids lovingly call the room Mom has turned into a shrine of trophies and awards from our childhood, plus endless, relentless volumes of family photo albums and videos,” I informed them. <br />
<br />
“You know Mom’s gonna whip those babies out to embarrass the hell out of us at the first opportunity,” bemoaned Emmett with a shake of his head.<br />
<br />
The girls practically squealed with glee while my brother and I groaned at the prospect.<br />
<br />
“Hey, it’s only fair,” Bella said, giving me an elbow this time. “I showed you all my dorky childhood pictures. Now it’s time for payback.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Rosalie said with relish. “Naked baby photos, toothless school portraits, bad hair-do’s, hideous prom tuxes. . .” She trailed off and gave us a wicked grin.<br />
<br />
“Christ,” Emmett and I both swore in unison. Even though our girlfriends were obviously looking forward to our impending humiliation, I knew that would be nothing compared to Mom’s utter delight in outing our most awkward moments.<br />
<br />
“I wonder if Jasper has already been through the Chamber and survived?” Emmett mused with a grin.<br />
<br />
“Probably that and more. Dad may have unleashed his ‘What Are Your Plans For The Future?’ speech,” I said portentously.<br />
<br />
Emmett shuddered dramatically. “Or worse yet, the ‘What Are Your Plans For Our Daughter?’ speech! Thank God we’ll be spared that one.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t be so sure,” I retorted. “He’s probably practicing a special version just for us. Something like, ‘What Do You Plan To Tell The Father Of The Girl You’re Dating Who Wants To Know What Your Plans Are For Her?’”<br />
<br />
“Stop!” Bella demanded again between giggles. “You have two parents who are kind and loving and care about what happens to you. Don’t knock it. Not everyone is so lucky.”<br />
<br />
I sobered up quickly and took her hand in mine. “You’re right,” I said, sufficiently chastised. “I’m sorry.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t be. I like how close your family is---the way you all tease each other. It’s nice.”<br />
<br />
I stroked her hand with my thumb. “Do you miss having brothers and sisters?” I asked.<br />
<br />
She shrugged. “You can’t really miss what you’ve never had. But sometimes I think it would be nice to have a bigger family. I don’t even have that many cousins, and they’re spread out all over the country. I’m not close to any of them.”<br />
<br />
“Families are all right sometimes,” I begrudgingly admitted with a sidelong grin at Emmett. I felt like telling Bella that if I had my way, she’d never be without a family, but it seemed too soon for that. I didn’t want to scare her with any more premature marriage talk. I wondered why I kept having those thoughts myself, because God knows that before Bella, I never did. But there was an inevitability to the two of us, together, that I could feel in my bones.<br />
<br />
I was actually looking forward to taking her to my parents’ home. That, too, was inevitable.<br />
<br />
As the ferry neared Bainbridge Island, the sun overhead began to lose its battle with an army of encroaching clouds, and the water became a bit choppy.<br />
<br />
“I hope it doesn’t rain,” Rosalie lamented, frowning into the horizon.<br />
<br />
“Par for the course on a holiday,” Emmett commented.<br />
<br />
“Especially a Seattle holiday,” I added.<br />
<br />
“I don’t care. We’ll still have fun,” Bella, insisted with determination. Her tone made me think that maybe spending the day at my family’s home felt significant to her, too. <br />
<br />
Once we docked, we retrieved Emmett’s Range Rover and piled into its roomy interior. We made our way up 305 until we reached the turnoff to head south.<br />
<br />
“See? This ‘over-priced penis extension’ - I believe that’s what you called it - does come in handy now and then,” my brother teased Rosalie as we cruised along in comfort. “I’d like to see you take the four of us anywhere in your convertible. Edward’s legs wouldn’t even fit in the back seat.”<br />
<br />
“Emmett, the only reason you need a vehicle like this is if you’re going to take us out into wilderness to shoot bear. I’m assuming that’s not on the agenda today.”<br />
<br />
“Well, you assumed wrong. How else do you think we’re going to find dinner?” he shot back with a smirk.<br />
<br />
“At the supermarket, I hope. You couldn’t shoot fish in a barrel.”<br />
<br />
“Funny, you weren’t complaining about my aim last night, darlin‘.”<br />
<br />
Emmett and Rosalie’s banter was a constant backdrop during the drive to South Beach. I interrupted them frequently to point out the landmarks of my youth to Bella.<br />
<br />
Her eyes seemed to drink it all in---the serene landscape bordered by the Sound on all sides, with views of Mount Rainier , the Cascades and Seattle in the distance. She commented often on how beautiful Bainbridge Island is, and she was right. I never realize how peaceful it was growing up there until I leave the city and go back to visit.<br />
<br />
As complimentary as Bella was of the entire island, she saved her best gasps for the first glimpse of our Hamptons-style home on Beans Bight Road. I suddenly saw the place through her eyes as we approached. The sheer scale of our traditional two-story, six-bedroom home nestled on an acre of prime shoreline real estate is nothing to sneeze at. The grounds are a combination of perfectly manicured lawns leading to sprawling gardens and wilderness the further one roams from the house. After I quit school and moved home, I spent a lot of time walking along the strip of white sand beach just down the hill, thinking until my brain hurt. The beauty of the place holds a tinge of sadness for me now---another thing I seem to resent you for.<br />
<br />
“Edward, this is amazing,” Bella said, sounding a bit awestruck as we trundled down the long drive. <br />
<br />
“Well, it’s no Platt estate, but it’ll do in a pinch,” I downplayed.<br />
<br />
“It’s gorgeous,” Rosalie said simply while Emmett parked outside the carriage house. Bella nodded, still staring out the window as I exited the SUV and went to open her door for her. <br />
<br />
“It looks like a fairytale house,” she said. “Magical.”<br />
<br />
“The stone walkway to the front door really makes it look that way,” Rosalie said as we all got out of the car. “Like the world’s biggest fairytale cottage in the woods.”<br />
<br />
“Heh! Maybe it is,” Emmett played along. “Maybe we big, bad wolves have lured you here to show you what big teeth we have.” He dove for Rosalie’s neck with a growl, while she laughed and shoved him away.<br />
<br />
“You know what they say about guys with big teeth,” Bella murmured to me quietly with a wicked arch of one brow.<br />
<br />
“I’m shocked, Miss Riding-Hood,” I replied with a grin. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”<br />
<br />
“Haven’t we already played that game?” she demurred as I took her hand.<br />
<br />
“Yes, but Show and Tell is still my favorite.” I pulled her toward the rustic paving stones that led to the front door, following Emmett and Rosalie. Alice beat us all to the punch, opening the front door and waving us down the walk with a huge grin. When we finally reached the front door, she greeted the girls by name, and then Emmett and I as “Brutus” and “Doofus,” respectively.<br />
<br />
“What’s with the name-calling, Dorkus?” I demanded as we stepped into the foyer.<br />
<br />
“I call ‘em as I see ‘em,” she replied sweetly.<br />
<br />
“So do I, munchkin,” I said with a saccharine grin back at her.<br />
<br />
“Are you two at it already?” wafted Mom’s voice from the vicinity of the kitchen. She appeared seconds later, wearing her ubiquitous “Kiss the Cook” apron. “They’ve been like this since Alice came out of the womb,” she added to Rose and Bella, her eyes rolling heavenward as if praying for patience. She approached with arms wide open and gave us all hugs, one by one.<br />
<br />
“I kid because I care,” Alice insisted with another adoring look at me. “He can’t help being a doofus. It’s a congenital defect.”<br />
<br />
“Speaking of defects . . .” I began, but Mom put up her hand to shush me.<br />
<br />
“I declare this house a squabble-free zone for the rest of the day,” she announced. “Honestly, the minute you all set foot in here, you behave like teenagers again.”<br />
<br />
As if to prove it, Alice stuck her tongue out at me. I gave her my best Elvis sneer in return.<br />
<br />
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll keep these two in line,” Emmett offered with an air of authority.<br />
<br />
“You?” she scoffed. “You’re the worst of the bunch.”<br />
<br />
“Hey, I resemble that remark,” he answered with a wink.<br />
<br />
Bella and Rosalie chuckled at our antics, but they both still looked a bit uncomfortable. Bella’s eyes roamed left and right, taking in the expansive entryway; the long living room with its glass-walled views of the city skyline; and the grand, curving staircase that led to our old bedrooms.<br />
<br />
“Home, sweet home,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Do you like it?”<br />
<br />
“What’s not to like?” she said, her tone a bit overwhelmed. “It’s beautiful. I mean, it’s huge and spacious, but it’s still homey, you know?”<br />
<br />
Not surprisingly, Mom beamed at that comment. “That’s what I was aiming for. I always decorate so that everyone who enters here feels comfortable. Stuffy and formal is no way to live.”<br />
<br />
“Amen,” I said.<br />
<br />
“However, I do draw the line at dirty and messy,” Mom added, eying my outfit up and down.<br />
<br />
“Hey, this is fresh out of the washer,” I protested.<br />
<br />
“After about a thousand spin cycles, by the looks of it,” she teased. <br />
<br />
“Thanks, Mom. I can see how this day is going to go,” I groused.<br />
<br />
She laughed, reached up, ruffled my hair and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I kid because I care,” she repeated Alice’s sentiment with a laugh. <br />
<br />
I glanced at my sister’s smug expression and asked her, “Where’s Jasper?” <br />
<br />
“He’s out back, helping Dad with the grill.”<br />
<br />
Emmett and I exchanged knowing looks.<br />
<br />
“Should we go rescue the poor bastard?” he asked.<br />
<br />
“I suppose,” I said with a shrug. “Though it’ll probably do him some good to sweat it out a bit. Like a Cullen clan initiation ceremony.”<br />
<br />
“A hazing, if you will,” Emmett concurred.<br />
<br />
“You two are ridiculous. Dad and Jasper have been having a good time this weekend. I think Jasper would rather hang with him than help me pack,” Alice pouted.<br />
<br />
“I’d rather hang upside down by my toenails than help you pack,” I told her.<br />
<br />
Alice rolled her eyes, then shot a pleading look at my girlfriend. “How do you put up with him, Bella? You must have the patience of a saint.”<br />
<br />
“She does, actually,” I murmured, giving Bella a rather penitent look. She frowned slightly and shook her head as if to refute me, but we both knew it was true.<br />
<br />
Mom stepped in then, speaking with her usual calm authority. “Why don’t I show the girls around the house while you boys go help your father?”<br />
<br />
“Sounds good,” Emmett said quickly, catching my eye and nodding in the direction of the patio. I gave Bella’s elbow a squeeze and then left her in the capable hands of my mother.<br />
<br />
“Poor things. They’re about to be bored out of their minds,” Emmett said with a chuckle as we shuffled through the kitchen. Mom already had the island covered with every conceivable type of picnic salad---vegetable, fruit, pasta, and then some.<br />
<br />
“Nah. Chicks love that shit,” I said with a grin before opening the French glass doors to the paved wraparound deck.<br />
<br />
Emmett looked impressed. “Spoken like a true Neanderthal! We may make a man out of you yet, young pup.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t you mean, ‘politically incorrect jackass?’” I corrected him.<br />
<br />
“Same difference.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ve already achieved ‘jackass’ status several times over.”<br />
<br />
"Probably. I'll ask Bella later on," he threatened good-naturedly as we stepped out onto the paving stones.<br />
<br />
"We'll probably have to rescue them from the Chamber at some point, you know. Otherwise they'll spend the entire day making fun of our childhood mullets and our old girlfriends."<br />
<br />
Emmett gave me a look of mock horror. "Nuh-uh. We have to nip that in the bud or we'll never get laid again."<br />
<br />
Our adolescent chortles were cut short as we reached the grill. Dad stood looking at us, arms crossed, one judgmental eyebrow aloft.<br />
<br />
"Not that we would ever dream of engaging in premarital sex," Emmett quickly amended with a huge Cheshire grin.<br />
<br />
"Of course not," Dad said dryly.<br />
<br />
Jasper's chuckle carried over Dad's shoulder. He waved a basting brush at us and then went back to coating several racks of ribs with barbecue sauce. I brushed past Dad after a quick man-hug to supervise while Jasper turned the ribs.<br />
<br />
"Looks good," I said appreciatively. I glanced back to see Dad and Emmett immersed in conversation before I added, "I'm surprised to see that Dad hasn't skewered you and thrown you up here yet." I gestured to the grill top with a laugh.<br />
<br />
Jasper only grinned. "He's been surprisingly mellow. No serious talks yet. The most serious thing we've done all weekend was play some old video games that you left behind when you moved out. Your old man has surprisingly quick reflexes."<br />
<br />
"Huh," I mused. Maybe Dad was actually turning over a new leaf. I remembered our talk before work that morning, when he apologized for the pressure he had put on me. Evidently he was trying to change his ways, for Alice's sake. In the past, I was sure that a school teacher wouldn't have been his ideal choice for a son-in-law, if that's where things were heading.<br />
<br />
"He must like you," I said with a smile. "That's a good thing."<br />
<br />
"Yeah. We get along pretty well. I mean, I remember we all had fun working together when we helped you remodel the loft. I think your dad would do anything for his kids, when it comes down to it." He brushed more barbecue sauce on the meat before closing the lid. "And we both love Alice. That's the important thing."<br />
<br />
I was impressed at the seriousness in Jasper's eyes. I'd only seen him this focused when he was rehearsing a guitar lick, trying to get it perfect. I could see that he was putting the same effort into his relationship with my sister.<br />
<br />
"You're going to miss her, aren't you?" I said quietly.<br />
<br />
He smiled, but the pain in his eyes was impossible to miss.<br />
<br />
"I know it sucks, but you two are gonna make it through this," I assured him. "I can see that it's what you both want."<br />
<br />
As if on cue, the subject of our conversation bounded through the doors to the covered patio, then rushed over to us when she saw us around the corner at the grill.<br />
<br />
"Smells delicious," she declared, throwing her arms around Jasper. She turned to me and said, "He and Dad made some kind of secret rub for the meat last night. They won't tell us what's in it, but they insist these will be the best ribs we've ever had."<br />
<br />
"Secret rub? Okay, I'll try not to be scared by that. God knows what they put in it," I said.<br />
<br />
"Eye of newt and tongue of frog," Jasper intoned with a wicked chuckle.<br />
<br />
"I don't put it past you."<br />
<br />
We ambled back into the kitchen, where Mom, Bella and Rosalie had just congregated to continue preparing for lunch.<br />
<br />
"That was quick," I commented. "I was sure you'd still be stuck sitting through video of me trying to learn to walk."<br />
<br />
"Oh, that's after lunch," Bella said with relish. "I told your Mom that I want to see it all."<br />
<br />
"Great." My smile was more of a wince, which only made Bella giggle.<br />
<br />
We concentrated on finishing lunch then, throwing burgers and brats on the grill along with the ribs, and pulling cooked casseroles out of the oven. By the time we were done, the food wouldn't fit on our outdoor table. We had to leave most of it on the kitchen island and help ourselves, buffet-style.<br />
<br />
We managed to wedge all eight of us around the oblong table under our outdoor shelter, then held hands while Dad said grace. I made a mental tally of all the things I was grateful for besides the food before us, giving Bella's hand an extra squeeze as I did so. She squeezed back, and we gave each other a sidelong glance that said everything our lips did not.<br />
<br />
The next hour or so passed in a blur of good food, beer, and laughter. The sun occasionally broke through the clouds, buoying our spirits further. It was one of those days where all seemed right with the world.<br />
<br />
That should have been my first warning.<br />
<br />
When we'd all eaten more than our fill and helped clean up, we began to wander off in different directions for the afternoon. Mom and Dad sat with Jasper and Alice on the deck, finalizing plans for her move back to Stanford in a couple of days. Emmett and I decided to take Rosalie and Bella on a walk around the property, though we each took off in different directions. Bella and I set off down the stone path from the back door, over the lawn and along the rock wall that separated the bluff from the beach below.<br />
<br />
"This place is amazing," she reiterated as we walked hand in hand. "I don't know how you ever left it to move into the city."<br />
<br />
I shrugged, looking out at the admittedly stunning mountain views across the Sound. "It's a nice getaway, but it's too removed from everyday life. I kind of like the pace of the city. There's so much more to do - restaurants and clubs, theaters and museums, all right at your fingertips."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I know. And I agree with that. But it's weird - being here kind of makes me a little homesick for Forks. I mean, it's nowhere near as gorgeous as this island is. It's gloomy and damp and oppressive half the time. But sometimes the monotony of a simpler life is kind of . . . comforting, I guess. Sometimes I can understand why Charlie likes it so much."<br />
<br />
I held her hand tightly as I guided her down the grassy hill to the narrow beach. We walked along the water in silence for a moment, just enjoying the atmosphere. Yet I could feel a vague melancholy emanating from Bella, and when I glanced at her, I saw the tiny line between her brows.<br />
<br />
"Maybe you should go visit your dad one of these weekends," I suggested. "Sounds like you're missing him a little bit."<br />
<br />
"I guess I am," she agreed. She kicked at bits of rock and debris as we skirted the shore. "Happens to me every time my birthday rolls around. Well, not my birthday itself, of course. It's the day after that always gets to me."<br />
<br />
I frowned at her, trying to discern her meaning. And then, an abrupt wave of horror surged from my scalp to my toes.<br />
<br />
That was the day her mother was killed.<br />
<br />
And that, of all days, was the day that I had been planning to unload my own horror story upon her, to absolve my conscience from any further lies of omission.<br />
<br />
What the hell was I thinking?<br />
<br />
I hadn't been thinking, obviously. If I had, I never would have devised this crazy countdown to begin with. The day I had made the off-hand remark to Katrina, the significance of the date I'd chosen had evaded me completely. And during the entire week that followed, I had been so caught up in my own past trauma that I had carelessly, unforgivably forgotten about Bella's.<br />
<br />
And just like that, my Countdown was done.<br />
<br />
"I'm so sorry," I whispered shakily. Bella's expression was curious as she looked up at me, wondering at my sudden emotional state.<br />
<br />
"It's not your fault," she said in a tone that indicated she was stating the obvious. "You've done so much to help me let go of all that old self-blame and guilt. You know how self-defeating it is."<br />
<br />
Her hand gripped mine harder then; her eyes were filled with meaning. I could put nothing past her. Now was the time. I should tell her, right now, and get it over with.<br />
<br />
A sweat broke out on my brow, and it wasn't from the patchy sun overhead. I could feel panic rising in my chest, unwelcome and unrelenting. I had to get over it somehow. I had to push it down so I could find my voice and make it say the words without faltering.<br />
<br />
"Bella, I . . . " It was no use. I had to stop for air, and the breath I took shook harder than leaves in the breeze. <i>I have so much to tell you that I don't know where to start. I don't want to ruin this perfect day. I don't want to look back. I want to go forward with you. Please don't make me go back...</i><br />
<br />
But I knew that going back was the only way I'd ultimately be able to move ahead.<br />
<br />
Bella gripped both of my hands now, her palms warm and strong against mine. Her eyes told me that she was ready to hear whatever I had to tell her. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, a steadier one this time. And just as I opened my mouth, a distant voice stopped me cold.<br />
<br />
"Hey, guys!" Rosalie called from several yards away. I opened my eyes to see my brother and his girlfriend approaching from the other end of the beach. They waved in unison and gave us matching toothy grins. They were a stunning couple. And in that moment, I wanted the sea to swallow them both whole.<br />
<br />
"Isn't this beautiful?" Rose continued as they got nearer. "You've got to go down around that bend and check out the view. If you climb the bluff, you can see in all directions. It's stunning."<br />
<br />
"That's great," Bella said weakly. She sounded disappointed. But if I'm being honest, my relief at my reprieve was at least equal to my frustration at being interrupted.<br />
<br />
"I was thinking about going back to the house to see the so-called Chamber of Horrors, though," Rose continued with a grin at Bella. "Do you want to come with?"<br />
<br />
"Well, sure, but what about the bluff?" she asked, gesturing down the beach.<br />
<br />
"I'll bring you back out here later," I offered, perhaps a bit too quickly.<br />
<br />
"Oh. Okay," she said, still sounding less than enthusiastic.<br />
<br />
"Come on, bro," Emmett said to me. "I think we'd better go with them. We might need to police Mom."<br />
<br />
"Or at least offer disclaimers to whatever she unearths," I agreed.<br />
<br />
We headed back to the house, where Mom was only too eager to dig out the camcorder and connect it to the TV in the Chamber. Emmett and I sat back and endured our girlfriends ooh-ing and ah-ing at videos of us as babies, then toddlers, doing all the cute and embarrassing things that babies do. The embarrassment only escalated as our video selves grew older and more awkward. Bella and Rosalie couldn't stop laughing as they watched us suffer through adolescence, voices cracking and limbs too long to coordinate. Their laughter lessened as we reached the high school years and began to look like younger versions of who we are today. "So handsome," Rosalie sighed at Emmett's senior prom video, before demanding to know all about his date.<br />
<br />
Bella was quiet as she watched me attend various past formals, each time with a different girl on my arm. I studied her face as she watched my teenaged self onscreen. She looked more sad than jealous, and I wondered why. I couldn't wait to pick her brain when we were alone.<br />
<br />
When the videos ended and Mom turned to the photo albums, Emmett and I both groaned simultaneously.<br />
<br />
"I don't think I can take any more of this," he announced, getting up from the couch and stretching.<br />
<br />
"I'm with you. Let's go find and Dad and Jasper."<br />
<br />
The girls called us amateurs as we gave them quick kisses and left the Chamber.<br />
<br />
"Brutal," Emmett said with a shudder.<br />
<br />
I nodded and we went in search of the men, who, along with Alice, were fiddling with my old PlayStation in the TV room. It was a relief to get lost in some fantasy NFL action and not have to think, or worry, about what lay ahead. Another beer and some downtime soon had me in a better frame of mind.<br />
<br />
After a couple of games, I excused myself to use the bathroom. When I exited and headed down the hall, I ran into Rosalie.<br />
<br />
"So you finally escaped the Chamber?" I joked.<br />
<br />
"Well, after we were done with Emmett's photo albums and had moved on to yours, I thought I'd take a breather and let Bella enjoy getting a glimpse into your past."<br />
<br />
Her words were pointed. I hoped I was just being paranoid as I looked at her stony expression. But my suspicions only mounted at her next words.<br />
<br />
"Listen, can I have a word with you? Somewhere private."<br />
<br />
I swallowed the lump of faint dread in my throat and said, "Sure. Why don't we take a walk?"<br />
<br />
She followed me out one of the many sets of French doors that led to the deck. We headed down the lawn in silence, until we reached the curve of stone wall leading to the beach. I stopped and turned to face her when the house was no longer in view.<br />
<br />
"Look. I know you have some kind of beef with me, so go head, let's hear it," I blurted, my patience at an end.<br />
<br />
Rosalie's eyes widened in surprise. "I have no beef with you," she protested, looking mildly affronted. "I wanted to thank you, actually."<br />
<br />
"For what?"<br />
<br />
"For not telling Bella the extent of my suspicions."<br />
<br />
"Save it," I told her tersely. "I don't need any thanks for trying to keep her happy."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, well, you could have made things a lot worse for me by letting her know just how out of control my imagination got. Things are tense enough between us without her knowing that I thought she was going to mutiny and start her own label with you. So I appreciate your discretion. That's all I wanted to say," she finished, her face showing mild distaste at the crow she'd just eaten.<br />
<br />
"I didn't tell her how bad your accusations were because I didn't want to hurt her, but also because that confession needs to come from you, not me. You're the one who needs to come clean if you really want to make amends with her."<br />
<br />
Her guffaw echoed down the stone wall. "You're a fine one to talk about coming clean," she said derisively.<br />
<br />
Every hair on my body stood on end. "What do you mean by that?" I could barely force the words through my clenched teeth.<br />
<br />
Her snort was softer this time. "I mean, I know what it's like to have done things in the past that you're not proud of. Things you'd just as soon forget, or pretend they never happened." Her gaze clouded over and her voice became more subdued as she spoke. "Things that you're afraid might make it a lot harder for the people you love to love you back."<br />
<br />
I stared at her, seething inwardly. My loud-mouthed brother had told his harpy girlfriend about my shortcomings before I'd even managed to confess them to Bella.<br />
<br />
"Well, I guess that makes us even, then," I said, my voice brittle. "We each have something we can hold over the other's head now."<br />
<br />
She shook her head and gave me a wan smile. "That's not what this is about, Edward. I didn't bring you out here to threaten you into making a deal. If anything, we should declare all bets off and show our hands. Bella deserves that."<br />
<br />
"I won't argue with that," I agreed. "Go ahead. You first."<br />
<br />
She let out a bitter laugh. "Thanks. You do realize she'll be a hell of a lot more upset with me than with you. My mistake was not trusting her integrity when she'd given me no reason to doubt it. You're just trying to protect her from an ugly incident that happened before you even knew each other. She won't hold that against you."<br />
<br />
"Maybe not," I said, unconvinced. I studied her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was sincere. Her eyes had the weary look of someone trying very hard to forgive herself. I recognized that look. I saw it in the mirror every morning when I got out of bed.<br />
<br />
"If I know Bella, her heart may be big enough to forgive us both," I told her. "Eventually."<br />
<br />
Rosalie let out a mirthless chuckle. "I hope so," she said. "I don't want to lose her."<br />
<br />
<i>Neither do I.</i> I left the words unspoken, but I was sure their sentiment was evident on my face.<br />
<br />
"I wanted to talk to you about something else, too," Rose continued. "Have you given my offer any more thought?"<br />
<br />
I looked at her blankly. "What offer?"<br />
<br />
"I'd still like to see you as part of Jasper's band. I was hoping you'd take my words to heart and really think about it. You're a natural. You're just what they need." Her eyes narrowed up at me, shrewd and uncannily perceptive. "Maybe it's what you need, too."<br />
<br />
My head began shaking back and forth in knee-jerk rejection. "I told you where I stand on that. Not interested."<br />
<br />
"Even if the future of your sister's boyfriend is at stake?" she pressed. "The guy's got talent, and able-bodied musicians backing him up. What he doesn't have is that 'it' factor, for lack of a better word. He doesn't have what you have. That inexplicable quality that makes people sit up and take notice. Makes them stop what they're doing to listen."<br />
<br />
I could feel every feature on my face harden into stone at her persistence. "That's absurd. I'm no different than any other guy with a guitar and a hard luck story. Besides, you haven't even seen me perform. You don't know what you're talking about."<br />
<br />
"I got a good enough taste at that rehearsal," she argued. "And on the recording Bella made, you could have heard a pin drop at the end of that performance. You had those people spellbound. You can't buy that kind of power - it's a gift. You have it, and you're wasting it. Jasper would probably give his eye teeth for a fraction of your charisma, and you're in a position to share the wealth with him. But you're so fucking stubborn, or afraid, or whatever the hell your problem is, that you won't even consider doing it?"<br />
<br />
I was about to form a rebuttal to her tirade when I heard the rustle of footsteps in the tall grass behind us. I turned to see Alice rushing around the curve of the stone wall, her dainty features set in a mask of fury. Nostrils flaring, lips curling into a grimace, she stopped short in front of Rosalie and glared up at her with formidable rage.<br />
<br />
I inhaled sharply as I watched Alice's hazel eyes flash a poisonous green. I'd seen that look before. I knew what was coming.<br />
<br />
"You. <i>Bitch</i>." I could practically feel the venom from where I stood as she spat out the words.<br />
<br />
And then, my adorable baby sister balled her tiny hand into a fist and punched Rosalie Hale right in the nose.<br />
<br />
A shockwave of astonishment barreled down my spine, but not because Alice had just assaulted our brother's girlfriend.<br />
<br />
What rooted me to the spot in panic was the sight of Bella standing a few feet behind her, gaping at us with horror-stricken brown eyes. Amid Rosalie's shrieks over the blood pouring from her nose, and Alice's yelps that she had it coming, one thought prevailed in my mind.<br />
<br />
How much had Bella heard?Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-67756876427340272812011-10-15T14:13:00.003-05:002011-10-15T14:14:22.483-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, Day 7Edward Cullen’s Little Black Notebook<br />
Sunday, September 5<br />
<br />
Sundays are becoming my favorite days with Bella. Neither of us was raised going to church regularly, yet we seem to treat this day of the week more reverently than the others. <br />
<br />
We sleep in, we make breakfast. We talk, we laugh, we eat, we play. We make music, we make love.<br />
<br />
We do nothing out of the ordinary from any other couple lazing on a Sunday afternoon. Yet every moment feels imbued with significance, somehow. It’s the subtle sensation of memories being made.<br />
<br />
Today we gave each other massages. We were both aching from the hours we’d slept curled up on the bench seat in the back of Bella’s rust-bucket truck. She hadn’t seen Katrina in two weeks, and I no longer cared about any therapist-client improprieties. I cared about Bella staying healthy and whole.<br />
<br />
She was nearly asleep in my bed from relaxation when I sprang my surprise on her.<br />
<br />
“So, have you thought about what you’d like to do for your birthday weekend?” I asked as I smoothed the tightness out of her shoulder blades.<br />
<br />
“My birthday’s on a Monday,” she mumbled into the pillow beneath her.<br />
<br />
“I know. That’s why I thought we could start celebrating early. If you don’t have any other plans, of course.”<br />
<br />
She snorted softly. “What plans would I have that didn’t include you?”<br />
<br />
“Well, for all I know, you and Angela have some annual ritual that you can’t miss in honor of each other’s big day,“ I guessed. “Or maybe your dad wants to come see you or something.”<br />
<br />
“Charlie hates the city. He’ll beg me to come visit Forks before he ever comes here willingly.”<br />
<br />
“So it sounds like you might be free next Saturday, then.”<br />
<br />
She laughed again. “Of course, I am. What do you have in mind?”<br />
<br />
“Have you ever been sailing?” I asked her, moving my hands down to the middle of her back. She sighed appreciatively as I slowly pulled the tension from her tissues.<br />
<br />
“No,” she said, her mumbles sounding more excited. “Do you know how to sail?”<br />
<br />
“No,” I said with a chuckle. “But I know a guy at the tennis club who’ll take us out on his boat if the weather is decent.”<br />
<br />
“Really?” She raised herself up on her elbows and craned her neck around to look at me with shining eyes. “I’ve only been out on crappy little motor boats with Charlie, back when he used to try to teach me to fish. But taking a sailboat out on the Sound . . . that’d be awesome. Oh, he’ll be so jealous.”<br />
<br />
“Okay, I’ll make the arrangements, then,” I said, pleased that she liked the idea. I didn’t really have a plan B. Ever since I’d met Bella, I’d imagined taking her to the club for the day. For a nominal fee, an old family friend of Mom’s often took people out for day trips on his sailboat. I’d already checked to see if he was available next weekend, and he sounded happy to take us out. He even offered to do it at no charge, though I insisted on paying. <br />
<br />
“Afterward, I thought we could eat at the club. I’ve been wanting to treat you to dinner someplace really nice. Payback for all the cooking you do for me,” I told her. “Just don’t tell Katrina or she’ll have my hide. She’s always giving me crap because I never let her stay for dinner after our tennis matches.”<br />
<br />
“Why don‘t you?” Bella mumbled into the pillow again.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know.” I had reached her lower back then, and was amazed at how much calmer, more stable her body was than it had been when she first came to me. I knelt my head down to place a gentle kiss on her tailbone. She made a sound of contentment, not unlike that of Lucky’s purring from the other side of the bed where he slept.<br />
<br />
“I guess I never asked Kate to dinner there because it’s the kind of place you take someone special,” I said at last. “At least, the restaurant I want to take you to is.”<br />
<br />
She looked back over her shoulder at me again, her face worried this time. “I don’t have anything to wear to a place like that. Unless I pull out my ball gown,” she added with a chortle.<br />
<br />
“You don’t need anything fancy. It’s a sports club,” I reminded her.<br />
<br />
“The most prestigious one in the city. The one with a ten-year waiting list. The kind of place where people can smell cheap, off-the-rack clothes coming before you ever enter the room,” she groaned.<br />
<br />
I chuckled at her groundless worries. “Yeah, there are snobs there, for sure. But the majority of ‘em don’t care what you’re wearing. And the richest of the bunch are usually the most poorly dressed. When you have that much money, it ceases to have meaning. They’re not out to impress anyone.”<br />
<br />
“Huh,” she said, sounding unconvinced. <br />
<br />
“The views are amazing. I think you’ll love it. And I might be able to arrange for us to eat outdoors, someplace secluded, if you’re that worried about what people are going to think of you.”<br />
<br />
“I’m not,” she said, relenting a little. “I don’t care where we eat as long as you’re across the table from me.”<br />
<br />
“Me neither,” I said softly as I massaged her tailbone. “You know, you’ve made amazing progress here. Do you notice the difference?”<br />
<br />
She nodded, her ponytail bobbing up and down her back. “I feel almost normal again. I never even thought it was possible.”<br />
<br />
“Neither did I,” I murmured under my breath. But I was talking about myself.<br />
<br />
“My turn,” she announced suddenly when my hands stilled on her back. “I’ve been wanting to give you a massage for ages.”<br />
<br />
“You have? What the hell’s been stopping you?” I demanded with a grin. <br />
<br />
I admired her lithe body as she stretched like a cat and then raised herself up. My eyes raked over curves, clad only in her ubiquitous cotton panties with the lacy trim. I felt the stirrings of lust deep in my groin, and wondered when, or if, those urges would ever fade. I hoped they never would. “Forever” didn’t sound so daunting when I considered spending it with her.<br />
<br />
“I have no idea what I’m doing, you know,” she said with a measure of trepidation as I took her place and settled face-down on the mattress.<br />
<br />
“I don’t care,” I assured her. “No matter how you touch me, your hands on my body will be the best thing that happens to me all day. Well, except for that swirly thing you did with your tongue in the shower earlier.”<br />
<br />
I could almost feel her grin as I watched her hand reach for the massage crème on the bedside table. I heard her rub her hands together, then felt their cool, creamy touch on my shoulders moments later. The deep sigh my lungs expelled was one of total contentment. I knew that her lack of skills or proper technique wouldn’t mean a damned thing to me. It would still be the best massage I’d ever had.<br />
<br />
I could feel her mimicking my methods, and I smiled into the pillow. She moved her hands slowly along each muscle group of my back, working the hard spots, smoothing the muscles that were pulled too taut. I relaxed completely under her warm touch, eager for her dainty but firm fingers to probe and explore every inch of my skin. The more her hands stroked and rubbed, the more I felt her sinking into me, becoming a part of me. <br />
<br />
I wondered if that’s how she felt when I worked on her. Like the lines between us were blurred, muddied beyond recognition. It was a different kind of oneness than sex. It was a sensuality that calmed and soothed; a joining together that healed.<br />
<br />
I surrendered to the sway of her gentle hands and let the healing begin.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-20017120334371766752011-10-09T15:48:00.001-05:002011-10-09T15:52:35.686-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, day 6<b><i>Edward Cullen's Little Black Notebook</i><br />
<br />
Saturday, September 4</b><br />
<br />
"Edwa-a-a-a-rd!"<br />
<br />
The hairs on my neck rose at the sound of my name piercing the noisy air, though I'd now recognize that overzealous shriek anywhere. I craned my neck to find the source, refusing to give up my place in line at the beer ticket booth.<br />
<br />
I soon spotted Jessica Stanley, impatiently elbowing her way through the Seattle Music Fest crowd to get in the queue, and somehow she'd recognized me in the throng. I looked on either side of me, realizing I happened to stand almost a head taller than the guys on either side of me.<br />
<br />
"Hey, Jess," I called as she made her way toward me.<br />
<br />
"Hey," she said with a huge grin, panting and wiping her brow. She turned to the guy behind me and did an impressive eyelash-batting thing before imploring, "Can I cut in, please? We got separated and I've been looking for him forever. You know how it is." She hooked her arm through mine for emphasis as she spoke.<br />
<br />
Her guileless expression had the guy behind me grumbling, "Sure, whatever," with a shrug.<br />
<br />
"You're a good liar," I whispered after he turned back to his buddy.<br />
<br />
"I prefer to call it 'stretching the truth,'" she replied. "Besides, we did get separated, at 5 p.m. yesterday, to be exact."<br />
<br />
"Indeed we did," I said with an appreciative grin. "I like how you think."<br />
<br />
"It comes in handy," she agreed. "I gotta get plenty of beer tickets, or the natives will be restless. Literally," she added with a laugh.<br />
<br />
"What do you mean?"<br />
<br />
"I'm here with Jacob Black," she said with smug satisfaction. "Well, and the whole Wolf Pack, really. They kind of let me tag along. They dropped me off at the gate to come and get the beverage tickets while they park the van. But I get to spend the whole day and night with Jake, so that's progress, right?"<br />
<br />
"Absolutely," I said with a smile. "I'm not sure Jacob deserves you, though."<br />
<br />
"Aw, that's sweet of you to say. Unless you know something I don't. He's not still hitting on Bella, is he?" she ended in dismay.<br />
<br />
"Not that I know of. I think she made herself clear where they stand. But I've never expected that kid to give up too easily."<br />
<br />
Jessica looked worried, which made me add, "But if anyone can win him over and make him see the error of his ways, it's you."<br />
<br />
Her face brightened and her usual confidence returned. "You are so right about that."<br />
<br />
We shuffled forward in line, but not quickly enough for my liking. The sun was warm and I was thirsty. I was sure my siblings and friends were getting anxious for a beer.<br />
<br />
"You know, I almost didn't recognize you," Jessica said, eyeing me up and down. "You dirty up real nice."<br />
<br />
I chuckled as I glanced down at my ragged t-shirt and jeans. "I guess you've never seen me outside of the office, other than at the Black and Red Ball."<br />
<br />
"No, I haven't. I'm a little surprised. As uptight as you are, I always pictured you in a polo and designer jeans," she teased.<br />
<br />
"Oh, geezus. Do me a favor and shoot me if you ever see me in such a getup. It will mean I've either lost my mind or I've been kidnapped and brainwashed by aliens. Either way, death will be a sweet release."<br />
<br />
Jessica let out a hearty laugh. "You surprise the hell out of me sometimes. It's like there's a secret side of you I've never even seen before. A whole different Edward Cullen."<br />
<br />
I raised one cryptic eyebrow. "Maybe there is."<br />
<br />
"Stop," she ordered. "I love a man of mystery, but I'm not barking up that tree, attractive as it is. Like I said before, that would be weird."<br />
<br />
"Very weird," I agreed. "And Bella would have your hide. At least, I hope she would."<br />
<br />
"Are you here with her?"<br />
<br />
"Sort of. She and Rosalie are working." I pointed back at the stage area, where I could barely see the two of them in the distance, their heads bowed over a clipboard. "I came with Emmett and Alice, and some other friends. We've got a big blanket spread out on the lawn, stage left, if you want to come over."<br />
<br />
"Oh, wow. That's cool," Jessica said. "Maybe we'll come sit with you."<br />
<br />
"Sure, that'd be great," I said with a smile, wondering if I was as convincing a liar as Jessica was.<br />
<br />
We each bought the maximum number of beverage tickets allowed, then wove through the crowd to the nearest beer tent for our first round. Unfortunately, the Wolf Pack showed up right before we were served. I made nice, congratulating them on their record deal. Front man Sam thanked me, and said that if all went well, they hoped their band would be performing at the Music Fest next year. I wished them luck, avoiding Jacob Black's surly gaze. I actually liked the guys in the band. For that matter, I had liked Jacob well enough before I'd confirmed his connection to Bella. I decided to put my feelings about that aside and have a drama-free day.<br />
<br />
"Edward and Emmett are sitting over there," Jessica told them, gesturing across the park. "You want to join them?"<br />
<br />
"You're welcome to come over," I added in the sincerest voice I could muster. "The more the merrier."<br />
<br />
"Cool," Sam said, and the others agreed. Jacob's eyes narrowed at me, but he said nothing.<br />
<br />
The band helped us carry beers back to our crew. Emmett, Alice, Jasper, Angela and Ben cheered when appeared with their brews.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, bro, I should have gone with you," Emmett apologized as he came to help us distribute the cups. He'd been up at the stage, talking to Rosalie, when I had decided to make a beer run. I was still so irked that I could barely stand the sight of her.<br />
<br />
"Eh, it's fine. Jessica and I had a nice talk." I winked at her and she grinned.<br />
<br />
"I really don't want to know what that's all about," Emmett said with a laugh.<br />
<br />
"Me neither," Jacob said jokingly, though the joke fell flat. He put his arm protectively on Jessica's shoulder, which she ate up like a famine victim getting a bowl of gruel.<br />
<br />
I tried not to sneer openly at him, turning my attention to the next band on the roster of local talent. I was grateful when their loud music filled the air, cutting off any meaningful conversation for awhile.<br />
<br />
It was a beautiful day in Gas Works Park, the sky a brilliant late-summer blue, the air growing warm and heavy as the day went on. That didn't stop a mosh pit from forming in front of the stage, the crowed getting drunker and rowdier with each band that came on. The Wolf Pack members talked about jumping into the fray, and I hoped they would. I was getting tired of Jacob's beady eyes on me, stealing surreptitious glances every now and then and making me wonder what the hell his problem was.<br />
<br />
I didn't have to wait too long to find out. As soon as all the females of our group left to visit the portable toilets in one predictable flock, Jacob made his move.<br />
<br />
"How about we go get refills for everyone?" he suggested, standing up and motioning to the nearest beer tent.<br />
<br />
I nodded and got up to join him, bracing myself for whatever was coming.<br />
<br />
"So how are things going between you and Bella?" he blurted as we made our way around the perimeter of the crowd. He tried to make it sound nonchalant, but I don't think that particular subtlety is in his repertoire.<br />
<br />
"Not that it's any of your business, but things are great," I said. It came out in a clipped tone that was less than convincing.<br />
<br />
"Really," he said skeptically, a comment more than a question. "Then why doesn't she seem very happy lately?"<br />
<br />
I bristled at his nerve. Of course, since he didn't know a thing about what Rosalie had done, he assumed that Bella's preoccupation at work had something to do with me.<br />
<br />
"What makes you think she's unhappy?" I asked, genuinely curious.<br />
<br />
"I've known her a long time," he said, the implication being that he therefore knew her better than I did. "I can tell when something's bothering her. She gets that little line in her forehead, between her eyes, and she doesn't focus on what you're saying."<br />
<br />
I know that little line well. I dreaded its appearance on Bella's lovely face, and I hated the thought that she was still that uncomfortable at work. I also felt like telling Jacob that maybe she didn't focus on him because she didn't give a rat's ass about whatever he happened to be yammering about at the time.<br />
<br />
"So what makes you think that whatever's bothering her has anything to do with me?" I asked as we approached the beer tent line.<br />
<br />
"Well, the last time I saw the two of you together, that day that you were at Java Noise, you were pretty cold toward her. I assumed you were upset with her about something."<br />
<br />
"Again, none of your business, but I was a little upset that day. We had a slight misunderstanding and that was it. Everything's fine between us. No need for you to worry about it, or her."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, well, I do worry," he retorted. "She's an old friend of mine and I don't want to see her get hurt. I didn't like how you treated her that day. If I find out that's how you treat her all the time, you're going to have to answer to me."<br />
<br />
He stopped at the end of the beer line and crossed his beefy arms, puffing out his chest; but he still had to look up at me, no matter how high he jutted his chin. Part of me wanted to slug the antagonistic smirk off of his face, but the other part of me refused to acknowledge his threats as anything more than a ridiculous joke.<br />
<br />
"Why don't you worry about your own date tonight instead of mine?" I suggested tersely. "Jessica is a great girl. You should give her a chance."<br />
<br />
"She's nice," he said noncommittally. "A little flighty for my taste."<br />
<br />
"She might surprise you in that department," I told him. "I underestimated her myself. You could do a lot worse."<br />
<br />
He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Again, I was tempted to slug him.<br />
<br />
"Or maybe she could do a lot better," I added under my breath.<br />
<br />
"What was that?" he snapped.<br />
<br />
"Nothing," I said, motioning for him to move forward in line as the people in front of us advanced.<br />
<br />
Luckily the queue moved quickly, because he and I had nothing more to say to one another. We carried our beers in stony silence back to our group, offering them to the girls first.<br />
<br />
"You look like you're about to blow a gasket," Alice hissed up at me as she took the last beer. "What did I miss?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing. Just Jacob Black sticking his big, fat nose where it doesn't belong again."<br />
<br />
"Is he still crushing on Bella? I thought she took care of that the night of the ball."<br />
<br />
"Apparently he has a hard time taking 'no' for an answer. I'm not surprised."<br />
<br />
"Well, maybe now's your chance to drive the point home," Alice said with sudden enthusiasm. She waved wildly at someone in the distance. I turned my head toward the stage, only to see Bella weaving around the swarm of sweaty bodies in front of it. She looked ridiculously hot in her skin-tight jeans, Converse high-tops and body-skimming t-shirt, tied in a knot at the waist. She was still in bed when I left this morning, and she was already at the park by the time I got off work. I'd only waved at her from a distance so far. The closer she came, the more my heart raced. I wonder if my heart will ever stop racing for her. I can't imagine that day ever coming.<br />
<br />
I went to meet her halfway, grabbing her in my arms and swinging her around before covering her in kisses.<br />
<br />
"Wow," she said with a happy smile as she broke away. "What was that for?"<br />
<br />
"Because you look incredible, and I missed you today," I proclaimed, which was true. I left out the fact that I might also be looking to obliterate any lingering hopes Jacob Black had of stealing her away from me.<br />
<br />
"I missed you too," she said, still grinning up at me. "You like my rocker chick look, don't you?" she added with the quirk of one eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"You have no idea. I'm about ready to drag you back to that rusty old gas plant and have my way with you," I said, referring to the mammoth gasification structures that loomed in the background behind the crowd.<br />
<br />
"You and public sex," she teased. "You aren't going to let that go until we cross it off our checklist, are you?"<br />
<br />
"I wasn't aware we had a checklist. But if you're keeping one, I'd love to see it."<br />
<br />
She rolled her eyes slightly and changed the subject. "Listen, I don't have to be backstage again for another hour or so. Rose told me to go ahead and take a break, and get something to eat. Have you all had dinner yet?"<br />
<br />
"No, not yet. We've just been getting drunk instead," I said with a laugh as I steered her back toward our friends.<br />
<br />
"There's a surprise," she replied. "We should all go get a brat or something."<br />
<br />
We met our friends, or enemies, as the case may be, arm in arm. I tried to keep my possessive nature at bay, but it was no use. I wanted to rub in Jacob Black's face that there was absolutely nothing for him to be suspicious about concerning Bella and me - no trouble in paradise whatsoever. I'm determined to keep it that way for ten more days, at any rate.<br />
<br />
Alice, Jasper, Angela and Ben opted to join us on our quest to find food; Emmett decided to wait for Rosalie, who said she'd take a break when Bella returned. Likewise, Jessica said she'd stay with Jacob, who obviously had no wish to go anywhere with me and my girlfriend.<br />
<br />
"So were you shocked to see Jessica here with Jake?" Bella asked me as we walked away. "He didn't tell me he was bringing her here."<br />
<br />
"That's probably because she's still his second choice," I said as we trailed behind the others to the food trucks.<br />
<br />
"I don't think so," Bella argued with a shake of her head.<br />
<br />
"Oh, I know so. He asked me point blank if you and I were getting along. He thinks you're unhappy, and I'm to blame."<br />
<br />
"What?" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing angrily. "He actually said that?"<br />
<br />
"Well, not in so many words. He says he thinks something's bothering you, and since he knows nothing about what went down with Rosalie, he assumes it must be my fault."<br />
<br />
"That's ridiculous," she said, the tiny line Jacob mentioned earlier forming between her brows.<br />
<br />
"Is it?" I asked uncertainly.<br />
<br />
The line deepened. "Of course. If I look unhappy at work, it's because of Rosalie. It's still hard for me to look her in the eye. On the other hand, I'd look into your eyes twenty-four seven if I could." She tilted her head up and blinked her eyes dramatically at me to make me laugh.<br />
<br />
"Neither of us would get much done, though, would we?" I said, still grinning.<br />
<br />
"I think I'd be okay with that." She grinned back.<br />
<br />
"I don't know. You're in your element here, surrounded by music. And you look hot with that VIP pass around your neck. So official."<br />
<br />
She laughed and waved the laminated plastic in the air. "Stick with me and I'll take you places, kid," she joked. "No, seriously, I want you to come backstage with me while Vegan Vamps is playing. It's kind of a big moment for me and I want you to be there."<br />
<br />
"What about Rose?" I hedged.<br />
<br />
"To hell with Rose," she declared. "I don't give a flying fuck anymore. I've been here all day going over set lists and schedules and listening to unsigned warm-up acts. I'm tired and hungry, and if I want my boyfriend to be with me when my first recording act makes its debut headlining performance, then damn it, you're allowed to be there."<br />
<br />
We came to a stop behind Alice and Jasper at the seafood booth, and I stared at Bella for a moment, mouth ajar. I'd never heard her sound so angry and fed up, or so passionate about wanting me with her. I was touched, and more than a little turned on.<br />
<br />
I reached my hand up to cup her face, rubbing my thumb along her jaw.<br />
<br />
"How do you do that?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Do what? Lose my temper?" she said with a laugh.<br />
<br />
"Make me fall more in love with you every day."<br />
<br />
Our eyes did that little dance; shared that knowledge beyond words.<br />
<br />
"You make it easy," she said softly.<br />
<br />
I wished that were true.<br />
<br />
Alice interrupted us then, asking us what we were going to order. I didn't even care about the food anymore, but I knew Bella was famished, so I picked something off the menu after asking her what she wanted.<br />
<br />
We all sat in a circle, cross-legged in the grass, and ate our fish tacos and sandwiches. Bella filled us in on what she'd been doing all day while we were lazing around on our blankets, enjoying the results. I loved seeing her excited like this, face flushed, eyes shining. She did look tired, but happy. I felt that ache inside me again; that yearning for her. I suggested we take a walk around the park before she had to go backstage again.<br />
<br />
She agreed, and took my hand while we made our way around the perimeter of festival-goers. The crowd thinned as we reached the rusted fossil of the old coal-burning plant, surrounded by a chain link fence to keep people from poking around its remains.<br />
<br />
"I wonder how often people sneak over this fence and check out the old buildings?" I mused as we reached the back of the abandoned facility.<br />
<br />
"It's probably an electronic one that'll zap you if you try," Bella said with a laugh.<br />
<br />
"Nah, I doubt it. I'll bet we could scale this fence and no one would be the wiser." I looked up at its meager height, then down at Bella with a quirk of my eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"You aren't serious," she said.<br />
<br />
"I can't think of a more interesting place to make love to you right now," I whispered. Before she could pipe up in protest, I covered her lips with mine, devouring her in a hungry kiss. I couldn't stop myself - tongue roaming her mouth, fingers tangling her hair, body pushing hers against the chain link fence.<br />
<br />
She responded with a stifled moan, her own mouth and hands answering the call, her body straining to meet mine. And then she wrenched her mouth free, turning her head quickly in either direction, obviously nervous about anyone watching. There was no one around. We were alone in the dark at the back of the plant, and I felt my need for her consuming every other consideration.<br />
<br />
I slid my hand under her t-shirt, pulling at the thin cotton of her bra until my thumb found her nipple. I rubbed it into a rigid button while my other hand grasped her face.<br />
<br />
"No one's here. No one's watching," I murmured before my mouth took hers again. She whimpered and her hands worked their way under my shirt, hot brands on my back that only spurred me on.<br />
<br />
I dropped both hands to the zipper of her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them while she protested weakly. I pushed them down her hips until I could slide my hand easily into her panties, finding her sweet spot and stroking it until my fingers were wet.<br />
<br />
"Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you're passionate about your work?" I said, my voice gruff with desire now.<br />
<br />
"Oh God," she whispered, sounding half turned-on, half frustrated. "I'm glad you think so, but that's the thing - I'm <i>working</i>."<br />
<br />
"You're on break," I reminded her. I unzipped my own pants and grabbed her hand, guiding it where I needed her touch. Her fingers gripped me, perhaps out of habit or instinct, even as she continued to protest.<br />
<br />
"There's not enough time to do this right now." But her hand began stroking me up and down, in rhythm with my fingers pushing inside her.<br />
<br />
"I have the feeling we can finish each other off pretty quickly," I answered in between labored breaths. I kissed her again, and our mouths mirrored the movement of our hands, working in time together, tongues stroking and probing, breath hot on each other's faces.<br />
<br />
In the distance, the air was filled with music again; the next band was beginning their set. I took advantage of the background noise to make more of my own, voicing my pleasure at what we were doing to each other.<br />
<br />
But Bella suddenly stiffened and pulled away, removing her hand from me and wrenching my wrist out of her panties.<br />
<br />
"Shit! I have to get back. I was supposed to be backstage by the time the next act started." She yanked at the zipper of her jeans and buttoned them closed while I blinked at her, stunned at her abrupt withdrawal.<br />
<br />
"Surely Rose can live for another ten minutes until you get there," I said with a tinge of bitterness, stuffing my still-throbbing dick back in my underwear. "You don't owe her any favors, as far as I'm concerned."<br />
<br />
"It's not just about her. This is my job. I said I'd be back, and I keep my word."<br />
<br />
I nodded silently, zipping up my jeans and trying to arrange my hard-on so it wouldn't be so obvious until it had time to calm down.<br />
<br />
"Edward," she said softly, her hand closing around my forearm. "Do you remember what you said about never doing anything to compromise your integrity when you're at the office? You said you wanted to be above reproach."<br />
<br />
My eyes softened as they regarded the seriousness of hers. "Point taken," I said guiltily.<br />
<br />
She slid her hand down until her fingers laced with mine. "Don't worry. I'll make it worth the wait later on, I promise."<br />
<br />
I leaned down and gave her a soft kiss. "I'm sorry if I pushed you."<br />
<br />
She shook her head. "Are you kidding? I love how turned on I make you. That's the best feeling in the world."<br />
<br />
"You might as well put a leash on my dick and lead me around with it," I replied ruefully.<br />
<br />
"Now there's an interesting thought," she said with an eyebrow waggle at me. "But for now, I think I'll go irritate the hell out of Rose by bringing you backstage with me."<br />
<br />
"I'm all for that," I said with a grin.<br />
<br />
We walked hand in hand all the way back toward the shoreline stage, and Bella waved her VIP pass at one of the burly security guards who stood between the surging crowd and the band onstage. Next thing I knew, we were climbing the stairs to the rear of the stage, where Rosalie and several other industry types were watching the current artists perform.<br />
<br />
"Sorry I'm late," Bella said to Rose.<br />
<br />
Rosalie gave us one of her patented forced smiles. "No problem. There's still another act before Vegan Vamps. I'll go grab a quick sandwich and be back before you know it."<br />
<br />
"Don't hurry on our account," I told her.<br />
<br />
Rosalie and I exchanged tense looks.<br />
<br />
"Emmett hasn't eaten yet. He's waiting for you," I added a bit more gently.<br />
<br />
"Thanks. I won't be long," she insisted again before leaving. "Bella can show you around and introduce you to our next 'big thing.' They're in the green room right now."<br />
<br />
"The 'green room?'" I asked Bella with an incredulous laugh.<br />
<br />
"There's a trailer set up out back for the bands to eat, drink and be merry," she explained. "And there's a warm-up tent before they go on, too."<br />
<br />
She showed me around the backstage area, introducing me to promoters and crew. Then we went out to the trailer to meet her first Java Noise find, the oddly named Vegan Vamps, and their manager. We talked music for a bit, and I found out their influences were mostly old-school Seattle grunge, but also a lot of older work that I always connected with. It was fun talking shop with them, and I vowed to somehow introduce Jasper and his band to the group. Bella thought that was a great idea and said she'd try to hook them up.<br />
<br />
We followed them out to the warm-up tent after a bit, where they were able to plug in and do some preliminary rehearsing before going onstage. The Seattle Music Fest was still a relatively new showcase for up-and-coming local talent and featured only one central stage, though plans were in the works to expand the festival so that two alternating stages would be available.<br />
<br />
I could feel the excitement beginning to buzz in the air as I watched the guys rehearse, amping themselves up for their biggest gig to date. I allowed myself to imagine, just for a moment, what it would feel like to be one of those guys. To be gearing myself up to face that many people watching me. Judging me. But maybe, in the end, embracing me.<br />
<br />
The thought was mostly terrifying, but there was a certain appeal to it, too. Just going out there, balls to the wall, and giving it all up on the stage, letting the chips fall where they may. I was certain the catharsis would be exhilarating, ten times more intense than anything I had felt in my little coffee house performances. But if I faltered, it would be a hell of a lot longer and harder a fall than I'd ever experienced, too.<br />
<br />
"What are you thinking about?" Bella's voice wafted softly up to interrupt my reverie.<br />
<br />
"That these guys are brave," I said at last.<br />
<br />
She squeezed my hand. "You know what they say - no guts, no glory."<br />
<br />
"You've got that right," I agreed with a wan smile.<br />
<br />
As always, she seemed to know instinctively what I was thinking. "You could do this if you wanted to."<br />
<br />
There was no pressure in her tone, only quiet confidence.<br />
<br />
"I'm glad you think so," I said.<br />
<br />
"You're stronger than you know," she insisted, squeezing my hand again.<br />
<br />
<i>You're the strong one. You always have been,</i> I wanted to say.<br />
<br />
But it was nearly time for Vegan Vamps to take the stage, and Bella and Rosalie went to assist the band's manager while the crew set up their gear. Bella made sure band's set list was taped to an onstage monitor and that they had plenty of bottled water at their disposal. I could tell that she liked doing the hands-on, little things, even though she wasn't really responsible for them. She never did anything half-way. I felt my love and respect for her grow, when I didn't even know there was room for more.<br />
<br />
I watched her as much as I watched the band while they performed, just like that first night at the Wolf Pack show. She mesmerized me completely. Just the way she was; who she was. Excited, happy, living in the moment. She brought me there with her, and I loved the stay.<br />
<br />
I stayed as long as she did, which was long after the show was over. She wanted to congratulate the band and have a celebratory bottle of champagne with them. She had discovered them, and now they had just headlined their first festival, with a debut CD coming out next week. I could see that this was her moment; she had arrived. Even Rosalie looked utterly sincere as she raised her glass to Bella, and everyone cheered. Bella's eyes brimmed with happy tears, but she blinked them back and raised her glass, letting herself revel in the glory for a minute. I hadn't even known her when she had gone to bat for this band, but I couldn't have been more proud of her if I'd seen every step she took to help get them to this point.<br />
<br />
Shortly after, Rose left in search of my brother. I asked her to relay the message that I'd be going home with Bella. She said she'd be happy to, and again, her expression was sincere, maybe even contrite. My heart felt a little bigger tonight, and my "Thanks," to her was honest.<br />
<br />
Bella and I stayed until the champagne had run dry. I let her drink most of it and offered to drive her truck home. She readily agreed, but not before she dragged me in the backseat and had her way with me. She let me make love to her in the mostly empty parking lot, insisting that it was still a public place and thus constituted taboo sex.<br />
<br />
"What makes you think I'm obsessed with taboo sex?" I asked as I wrestled with her skinny jeans, trying to pull the reluctant fabric from her body.<br />
<br />
"You're the one who brought up having sex in public, at that diner last week," she reminded me.<br />
<br />
"Yes, because I think it would turn you on. You like a little mild perversion. Don't deny it." I leaned in and covered her mouth with mine before she could answer.<br />
<br />
"Lucky for you," she gasped when I finally moved my lips south. "Mr. Handcuffed Anal Sex Toy Spankings," she said, her words slightly slurred with alcohol.<br />
<br />
"Just say the word and it's straight missionary position from now on," I said with mock solemnity.<br />
<br />
She scowled and fumbled with the zipper of my jeans until her hands found their way to my erection.<br />
<br />
"Shut up and fuck me," she commanded.<br />
<br />
I was only too happy to comply. I made love to her in the missionary position anyway, and she climaxed most spectacularly, her face as flushed and excited and exhausted as it had been earlier, during the show. I was ecstatic that I could make her as high as her other passion did. It felt like a privilege.<br />
<br />
I hovered above her, memorizing her satisfied face, relishing the feel of her spent body beneath me.<br />
<br />
"You complete me," I said softly with a slight grin.<br />
<br />
She didn't laugh. "I didn't even know I was incomplete until I met you," she said quietly.<br />
<br />
I nodded, and our eyes said the rest.<br />
<br />
We fell asleep in the back seat of Bella's old Chevy. My neck was stiff and my back was aching when the dawn's light awakened me, but it was still one of the best nights of my life.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-58889484236118871072011-10-08T11:06:00.000-05:002011-10-08T11:06:28.979-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, day 5<b><i>Edward Cullen's Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Friday, September 3</b><br />
<br />
“All right, I’m just going to say it.” Ben Cheney’s tone was uncharacteristically blunt. “That movie sucked.”<br />
<br />
“It did not!” Angela protested, throwing a few kernels of leftover popcorn at him. “I liked it.”<br />
<br />
“You would,” he snickered. “Chick flick. But I’ll bet even Bella thought it blew.”<br />
<br />
He looked expectantly down the couch at my girlfriend, who sat between Angela and me. Bella hesitated as she glanced between her roommate and her roommate’s boyfriend. She wisely chose to placate the person she has to live with.<br />
<br />
“I liked the romance,” she offered. “And the atmosphere was cool. Kind of spooky. The cinematography was good.” <br />
<br />
I grinned at her diplomacy and gave her shoulder a squeeze.<br />
<br />
“Are you kidding me?” Ben exclaimed. “Everyone looked blue, for crying out loud.”<br />
<br />
“They were vampires,” she pointed out.<br />
<br />
“But even the humans were as blue as corpses!” he shot back. “And the vampires didn’t actually kill anybody. We didn’t even get to see them nail a deer or a bear, or whatever the hell they were supposed to feed on. Ridiculous. I’ll bet Cullen is with me on this one. That movie sucked harder than any of the vampires in it. Am I right?”<br />
<br />
I hedged my bets. “I’ve seen better,” I admitted. “I’ve seen worse.”<br />
<br />
“Name one vampire flick that’s worse,” he challenged. <br />
<br />
I drew a blank. “Give me a minute,” I said with a laugh as Ben began crowing in victory.<br />
<br />
“Well, regardless, that lead vampire guy was hot,” Bella said. “He reminded me of Edward.” She grinned slyly up at me, and I returned the look.<br />
<br />
“That’s so weird. I was thinking that the lead human looked a lot like you. Nowhere near as pretty, though.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, brother,” Ben groaned with a roll of his eyes at the two of us. Angela gave him a gentle punch on the arm.<br />
<br />
“Leave them alone. They’re still in the honeymoon phase. I remember when you used to look at me like that,” she told him reproachfully.<br />
<br />
“What do you mean, ‘used to?’” he protested. “I give you that look all the time.”<br />
<br />
“There’s a difference between a look that says, ‘You complete me,’ and a look that says, ‘You wanna get busy?’” Angela retorted.<br />
<br />
“Oh, that’s harsh. Do you hear this?” Ben directed his question at me. “This is what you have to look forward to in a few years.”<br />
<br />
Bella had collapsed into peals of giggles, and I was chuckling myself.<br />
<br />
“Laugh all you want at that movie, it got one thing right. The way the two leads looked at each other was, like, the pinnacle of movie romance,” Angela insisted. “Intense. Longing. Soulful. You could feel their connection just by the look in their eyes.”<br />
<br />
Bella nodded. “Totally. They sold me on the romance,” she said.<br />
<br />
I actually concurred, though I didn’t put it quite as eloquently.<br />
<br />
“They’re probably doing it in real life,” I suggested.<br />
<br />
Everyone made noises of agreement.<br />
<br />
“Yep,” Ben said. “And when he wants a little action, do you think he says, ‘You complete me’? Hell, no. He says, ‘Yo, babe, you wanna get busy?’”<br />
<br />
“Shut up!” Angela ordered. The girls pelted Ben with popcorn then, even though they were laughing the entire time.<br />
<br />
Later, I lay on Bella’s bed, watching her put on her PJ’s. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow, and I had to get up early for my morning appointments, so we had decided to go to sleep when the movie was over. But as always, just the glimpse of her naked body had me wanting more.<br />
<br />
“Bella,” I called softly across the room.<br />
<br />
“What?” she answered, tying the drawstring of her baggy knit pants into a bow.<br />
<br />
I waited until she looked at me before I spoke.<br />
<br />
“You complete me.” I waggled an eyebrow at her suggestively.<br />
<br />
She began laughing again, just as she had earlier at Ben’s comment.<br />
<br />
“You complete me, too,” she giggled as she crawled into bed next to me. “But how about we ‘complete’ each other tomorrow after the festival, okay?” She made quote marks in the air with her fingers and gave me an eyebrow waggle of her own.<br />
<br />
“Fair enough.” I grinned and put my arm around her as she snuggled into the crook of my arm.<br />
<br />
“I hope movie night wasn’t too boring for you,” she said, stroking my stomach softly with her fingers. <br />
<br />
“Not at all. It was just what I needed.”<br />
<br />
“I kind of liked that film,” she admitted, sounding a little sheepish. “I like against-all-odds romances.”<br />
<br />
I gave her a wry smile before I reached over and turned off her bedside lamp. “That one was more of a doomed romance, I’d say.”<br />
<br />
“You think so? I don’t know. I got the feeling that they would work it out.”<br />
<br />
“A vampire and a human? No way. He would have had to turn her into a vampire, too, for it to work. She’d have to give up her whole life for him. Literally.”<br />
<br />
“But that’s what she wanted,” Bella protested.<br />
<br />
I stroked her arm, wondering if she could feel me shaking my head in the dark. “That would be too big a sacrifice. No wonder he didn’t want her to make it.”<br />
<br />
“But she was willing. He was the one holding back.” Bella’s hand was over my heart then, her fingers like feathers over my skin.<br />
<br />
“He was doing it for her own good,” I reminded her.<br />
<br />
“Yes, but who is he to play God? It’s her life. Her decision. She should know what makes her happy.”<br />
<br />
I was silent. I got the feeling we weren’t talking about the movie anymore. <br />
<br />
“Being with him makes her happy,” she continued. “He should just accept that, and do what it takes to make it happen. It’s what he wants, too. He shouldn’t fight her so hard.”<br />
<br />
“Maybe he doesn’t want to drag her down to his level,” I murmured.<br />
<br />
She sighed, her breath warm on my chest. “Maybe he isn’t half the monster he makes himself out to be.”<br />
<br />
I pondered that for a moment. I wanted to believe it.<br />
<br />
“Maybe,” I conceded. <br />
<br />
The moon seeping around the edges of her window blinds lent just enough light so that I could see the outline of her face in the dark. I stroked her hair and concentrated on the glint of her ivory skin until sleep finally found me.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-76992343768335923472011-10-06T23:21:00.000-05:002011-10-06T23:21:42.644-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, day 4<b><i>Edward Cullen's Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Thursday, September 2</b><br />
<br />
“Edward? What are you doing out here?”<br />
<br />
I turned at the sound of my better half’s voice, small and plaintive behind me. She stood shivering in her thin camisole and pajama pants, hugging her arms for warmth. I wanted to go to her and throw my arms around her, but the cigarette held me back. Its glowing stub in the dark was my siren call now; my escape from the things I didn’t want to face.<br />
<br />
I took a long drag, admiring the brightening of the cigarette’s embers as I sucked the smoky air through its filter. Then I scowled at it for distracting me from the only thing in my life worth drawing breath for.<br />
<br />
I tossed the stub to the gravelly roof beneath my feet and watched it smolder for a moment. Then I turned my back on it and went to Bella, putting my arms around her and pulling her close. I wondered if she ever aches for me the way I do for her. Even though I held her tightly, the melancholy still seeped through me. I never seem to be able to get close enough.<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” I murmured into her hair. I wound my fingers through its locks, tangling it further. I had already mussed it beyond recognition when I made love to her earlier, rolling her all over the bed and carefully pushing her pliant body into various positions that would allow my cock to pierce her as deeply as possible.<br />
<br />
Never deep enough.<br />
<br />
“I didn’t hear you leave,” she said quietly, her lips near my heart. “I rolled over and you were gone. The cold sheets woke me up.”<br />
<br />
I rocked her gently in my arms. “So you like sleeping with me now?” I teased her. “You used to have trouble sleeping with me in the bed.”<br />
<br />
“Now it’s the opposite,” she sighed into my chest.<br />
<br />
“For me, too,” I whispered. <br />
<br />
We stood quietly for a moment, swaying gently in the night breeze.<br />
<br />
“Why are you smoking again?” Bella asked at last. Her tone wasn’t accusatory. It was worried.<br />
<br />
I came up with a different lame defense than the one I’d given Alice. “It helps me think.”<br />
<br />
“What are you thinking about?”<br />
<br />
I sighed and buried my lips in her hair again. “Lots of things.”<br />
<br />
“I wish you’d share them with me.” Her voice was small again. <br />
<br />
“Be careful what you wish for.”<br />
<br />
She scowled and looked up at me, searching for my eyes under the cloudy night sky.<br />
<br />
“Stop trying to scare me. It’s too late for that.”<br />
<br />
“I’m not trying to scare you,” I countered. “I’m trying to protect you.”<br />
<br />
She let out a scoffing noise. “From what? You? Don’t bother.”<br />
<br />
She reached up and touched my face, her hand gentle against my rough beard.<br />
<br />
“I think you’re trying to protect yourself,” she said. Her insight was uncanny. Or maybe it was simply a given, as well as she knows me now. “It just hurts me that you feel like you need to protect yourself from me.”<br />
<br />
I shook my head in denial. “I swear to you that’s not it. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life.”<br />
<br />
She let her hand drop, and then her eyes. She rested her head against my chest again and wrapped both arms around me. <br />
<br />
“I know you do,” she said. <br />
<br />
She sounded defeated. Whatever trust I was able to give her, it wasn’t enough. I wondered what she would think about that after she knew everything. After I gave her every bit of trust she needed from me, would she even want it anymore?<br />
<br />
“Come on. Let’s go back to bed,” I suggested softly, giving her hair a final stroke. Arms still encircling her, I guided her back to the rooftop door. We descended the steps back to the loft, never letting go of one another. Arm in arm, we headed back to bed, then lay wrapped in each other’s embrace until consciousness waned.<br />
<br />
As I drifted off, I wondered when her patience with me would run out. <br />
<br />
I hoped it could last twelve more days.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-9511823189655243902011-10-05T21:39:00.000-05:002011-10-05T21:39:18.723-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, Day 3<b><i>Edward Cullen's Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Wednesday, September 1</b><br />
<br />
“Give me your lighter.”<br />
<br />
Alice’s impatience had her picking my pockets before I could even reach into them.<br />
<br />
“Settle down, groupie.” I laughed, swatting her hands away. “How do you know I even have one on me?”<br />
<br />
“Because you’re smoking again. I can smell it,” she sniffed.<br />
<br />
“Christ almighty,” I grumbled as I dug a Bic out of my left jeans pocket. “Here you go, Columbo.”<br />
<br />
“Woo hooo!” she hollered as she flicked the lighter on and held the flame high above her head. She swayed back and forth to a slow, bluesy number by The Grade as they rehearsed downstairs from my loft again. Jasper’s band had chosen an official name, and they were sounding tighter than ever, despite Rosalie’s misgivings. <br />
<br />
I had kept those to myself, of course. The band, and my baby sister, were none the wiser. I had reminded Emmett to keep his mouth shut on that score as well. As the resident Secret Monger of the Cullen clan, I felt it was my dirty job to keep the peace on all fronts for as long as possible.<br />
<br />
At the end of the song, Alice and I clapped, whistled and cheered wildly. The trio of musicians were appreciative of their small but rowdy audience, taking deep bows of gratitude.<br />
<br />
They took a breather after that. I broke out the six-pack that I’d brought downstairs in the cooler, and we all relaxed with a beer for a few minutes.<br />
<br />
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard anything from Rosalie,” Alice said to Jasper, Stew and Hank with a pout. “Surely she could hear how much potential you guys have. And I’m sure Bella has gone to bat for you, too.”<br />
<br />
“She has,” I assured them all. “But I think Rose is waiting until you get a few gigs under your belt.”<br />
<br />
Jasper’s grin was wry. “We definitely need some seasoning. I don’t think we’re ready for the next step quite yet.”<br />
<br />
His apprehension was reflected in the eyes of his band mates, who nodded in agreement. They began to discuss doing a few more open mic nights, and checking back with a local promoter who sounded like he was willing to give them a shot and schedule some small paying gigs for them. <br />
<br />
“Sounds promising,” I encouraged. “If you get going on one of the bar circuits, you’ll have Rosalie sniffing around for fresh blood before you know it.” I secretly enjoyed comparing her to a dog, or maybe a vampire or leech. I was glad Emmett wasn’t here to see my smirk.<br />
<br />
“I can’t wait to hear you when I come back to visit,” Alice said, her tone excited but laced with melancholy.<br />
<br />
“We’ll probably be sounding a hell of a lot better when you’re not around to distract me from practicing,” Jasper joked half-heartedly.<br />
<br />
“Stop,” she pouted, giving his shoulder a shove. “I’ll be your muse from afar. You can Skype me during rehearsals so I can hear how you’re improving.” Her face brightened at the prospect.<br />
<br />
“Like you’ll have time for that between studying and interning,” Jasper replied, sounding pretty melancholy himself. I could tell he worried about their relationship withstanding the separation.<br />
<br />
“I’ll make time,” Alice said softly, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek.<br />
<br />
I wondered what would happen to Bella and me if we were faced with something like that. I couldn’t even let my mind go there. I missed her if we went more than a day or two without seeing each other. Texting, and even Skyping, just wouldn’t cut it. I wouldn’t be able to touch her, smell her, feel her breath when she lay sleeping in my arms. <br />
<br />
I missed her tonight. I wished she were here with us, even though I’m the one who encouraged her to take Angela to her favorite open mic night. I didn’t want to be one of those demanding boyfriends who would make her change her routine for me, or put me ahead of her work. <br />
<br />
When rehearsal was through, I stole my lighter back from Alice and went outside for a smoke while the band loaded their gear back into Stew’s van.<br />
<br />
“Why have you taken up that filthy habit again?” I heard my sisters’ whine behind me. She’d followed us out the side door, then leaned against the brick wall upwind from me while I blew smoke in the other direction.<br />
<br />
I made a lame defense. “It relaxes me.”<br />
<br />
“Which begs the question, why are you tense? You aren’t nervous about the party at Mom and Dad’s, are you?” She stared up at me through narrowed, intuitive eyes.<br />
<br />
I let out a rueful chuckle. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” I muttered, taking another drag. “I just don’t want them giving Bella the third degree like they do all of their children’s prospective spouses.”<br />
<br />
“Ha! You might as well accept the inevitable. But you don’t have to worry - they like Bella.” She put the emphasis on Bella’s name, to make sure I’d get her implication that they didn’t like my previous girlfriend.<br />
<br />
“I know.” I exhaled away from her, then took a deep breath of fresh air before continuing. “And speaking of girlfriends they didn’t approve of, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring up Tanya.”<br />
<br />
Your name wasn’t any easier for me to utter today than it was yesterday.<br />
<br />
Alice’s face twisted in distaste. “Why would I bring her up? Religion or politics would be much more pleasant topics of conversation.”<br />
<br />
“I agree,” I said, inhaling another puff. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”<br />
<br />
Alice let out a derisive snort. “If you’re telling me you haven’t revealed one thing about your past to Bella, then I am definitely not on the same page as you. We’re not even reading the same book.”<br />
<br />
I glanced at her disgusted face before turning away and exhaling. <br />
<br />
“Edward, this is ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around Bella, or make us walk on them with you. If you can’t tell her the truth, then you’d better ask yourself why.”<br />
<br />
I shook my head and stared into the night sky. “I already know why,” I answered softly.<br />
<br />
I felt her hand on my arm, willing me to look in her direction. Her doe eyes were still severe she gazed up at me.<br />
<br />
“If you don’t think she’s strong enough to stand by you no matter what, then you don’t know her at all.”<br />
<br />
I nodded rather than argue with her. I was finished with the discussion, and Alice knew it.<br />
<br />
Of course, I know Bella’s strong enough to stand by me. <br />
<br />
I just don’t know if she’ll want to.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-62723221212586162472011-10-04T21:13:00.000-05:002011-10-04T21:13:37.006-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, day 2<b><i>Edward Cullen's Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Tuesday, August 31</b><br />
<br />
“So how are things going with Rosalie these days?”<br />
<br />
I took another bite of Moo Shu pork and hoped my question to Emmett sounded offhand. I’d suggested lunch at the Chinese place again, and he’d readily agreed. I couldn’t stand not knowing just what that shrew had revealed to him. Bella told me her boss had acted like nothing happened at work yesterday. While the two of them pretended it was business as usual, I could tell Rose’s betrayal was still bothering Bella.<br />
<br />
“Pretty good,” Emmett replied, trying to pass off a rigid smile as his usual easy grin. It finally faded and he took a deep breath. “We patched things up after I let her have it about what she did to you last week,” he finally admitted. “I’m glad you asked me to lunch today because I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it ever since she told me the whole story last night. I knew something was bothering her all weekend, and I finally got her to ‘fess up. She was out of line, and I’m sorry.”<br />
<br />
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t apologize for her. I’m just glad she was honest with you, because I was afraid she was going to keep the whole thing a secret. She set me up, trying to get a rise out of me. Trying to get me to admit to some crazy conspiracy with Bella to start our own label. I still can’t figure out where she got that idea.”<br />
<br />
“Well, she didn’t come right out and say it, but it sounds like this kind of thing has happened to her in the past. She’s been burned before in this business. She jumped to the wrong conclusions and let her suspicions get the best of her. I’m not making excuses for her, but I guess I can see where she’s coming from,” Emmett said apologetically.<br />
<br />
Hell, he does have it bad if he’s okay with that kind of behavior, I thought. But I merely said, “Well, I just hope she doesn’t pull that kind of stunt with me again. I didn’t tell Bella the extent of it - she doesn’t know that Rosalie actually thought she would defect and start her own label for me. But I warned your girlfriend that if she ever gives Bella a reason to doubt her, I’d tell Bella everything.”<br />
<br />
Emmett let out a heavy sigh. “Gotcha. I’ll remind Rose to keep her paranoia in check.”<br />
<br />
I nodded but still felt irritated. “I don’t think I would have minded it so much if she had just come out with her suspicions, you know? Just asked Bella or me point blank what the story was. But she let her imagination go wild and then cornered me behind Bella’s back. That’s the kind of thing I just can’t condone.”<br />
<br />
“Neither can I,” Emmett agreed. He rubbed his hand over his face a moment; he looked weary. “Don’t worry, I already went a couple of rounds with Rose about how she handled things. She doesn’t like to do anything in a small way if she can make a big impact. She likes the drama, you know,” he added wryly.<br />
<br />
“Obviously.” My tone was acid. I thought again of you, which is happening more and more now that The Countdown is on. You cured me of any attraction I might have had to drama queens, that’s for sure.<br />
<br />
“For what it’s worth, I know Rose feels bad about what she did. And she knows she’s going to have to earn your forgiveness. I just hope you’ll let her try.” Emmett’s eyes were beseeching. <br />
<br />
“You do have it bad, don’t you,” I mused aloud. “If she means that much to you, then yeah, I’ll work on letting all of this be water under the bridge.”<br />
<br />
Emmett’s smile was easier this time. “Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”<br />
<br />
“I’ll let you pay for lunch,” I suggested with a laugh.<br />
<br />
He let out one of his own. “Done.”<br />
<br />
I gulped down the last of my iced tea while he reached for the check. And then, I thought of a way he could repay me.<br />
<br />
“There is one thing you can do for me,” I said cautiously as he pulled some bills from his wallet.<br />
<br />
“Name it,” he offered. <br />
<br />
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything about . . . Tanya at Mom and Dad’s next Monday.” It took every ounce of willpower I had just to say your name out loud.<br />
<br />
Emmett’s eyes darted to mine, then narrowed as he discerned my meaning. “You mean you haven’t told Bella anything?”<br />
<br />
I shook my head. “Not yet. But I’m going to. Soon.” In fourteen days, to be exact.<br />
<br />
Emmett shook his head, either in pity or disapproval, I’m not sure which. “She’s not going to judge you. She’s not like that. She’s crazy about you.”<br />
<br />
“We’ll see,” I muttered, unconvinced. “But if you could maybe mention to Mom and Dad that the subject is off limits, I’d appreciate it.”<br />
<br />
“Sure,” he agreed. “I doubt it’s something they’d bring up anyway, but yeah, we’ll do our best not to make any blunders there.” His expression was a bit judgmental, which surprised me. Judging me and reminding me what an ass I am are usually Alice’s department.<br />
<br />
We were quiet on the walk back to work. But right before we got to the front door, Emmett spoke with unusual seriousness.<br />
<br />
“Secrets can fester like old wounds if you keep them covered up. Rose didn’t want to come clean with me, but I could tell that she was hiding something, and I didn’t let up until she confessed everything. In the end, we were both glad she did.”<br />
<br />
I let out a sigh and nodded. <br />
<br />
“Something to think about,” he said, giving me a quick squeeze of support on the shoulder before opening the door.<br />
<br />
His advice was moot. Secrets are all I’ve been thinking about lately.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-5382388199233051652011-10-03T20:34:00.000-05:002011-10-03T20:34:23.639-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 18 - Countdown, Day 1<b><i>Edward Cullen’s Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Monday, August 30</b><br />
<br />
My life feels like a countdown now.<br />
<br />
Every day I feel the ticking of the clock, the passage of time, like never before. Counting down to Bella’s birthday, which should be a happy occasion. I’m going to do everything in my power to make it that way, no matter what happens once the day comes to a close. <br />
<br />
Every day the panic rises a little higher than before. I just hope it doesn’t choke me before I get to the finish line.<br />
<br />
The fact that I did it to myself doesn’t help matters. If anything, it only makes it worse. My self-imposed deadline to tell Bella everything about you feels like a noose slowly tightening around my neck. And even though it’s one of my own making, and I deserve it one-hundred percent, it doesn’t make me any less afraid of dangling there, twisting in the wind after it’s all over. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I hate you, Tanya. I hate you for what you did. I can’t deny it. You knew you’d fuck up my life irrevocably with your actions. That you’d stick the knife through both of us with one blow. <br />
<br />
But no matter how much I resent you or despise you, it will never be as much as I despise myself.<br />
<br />
I realize now just what I’ve done to myself by setting a date to tell Bella about you. I thought everything was fine at first. She’s my favorite distraction; my light that leads me out of the darkness. But when she had me handcuffed to her bed, the darkness won.<br />
<br />
I’m not sure she understood what she did to me. She took me somewhere I didn’t even know I could go; pushed me further than you ever did. She invaded my body and was so ruthless in her possession that I didn’t even know if it was pleasure or pain I was feeling. All I knew was that just when I thought I couldn’t take it one minute longer, she’d keep going, and I’d keep taking it. I thought I would go mad.<br />
<br />
But the pleasure somehow won, and I erupted. I came harder than I’ve ever come before. The release was beyond anything I’ve ever felt, and it was all for her. Only she could have done that for me. She’s the only one I’d ever trust that way; the only one I’d ever let close enough to see me so vulnerable - to make me so vulnerable. <br />
<br />
It was too much. I watched her lapping cum off of me, pretending she loved it when I know she hates the taste, and I’d never felt so unworthy of anything or anyone in my life. I’ve been keeping things from the person I cherish most in this world, and the last thing I wanted from her was benevolence. <br />
<br />
I wanted her to punish me some more instead - to squeeze my cock until it turned purple, to smack my ass until it was raw, to just fucking clock me across the jaw already and be done with it. I wanted her fury instead of her tenderness. She had bent over and taken a spanking from me; she’d let me shackle her and fuck her front and back with a vibrator; and here she was, prone before me, cleaning up my mess with her tongue when she should be sending me to hell instead.<br />
<br />
I tried everything to goad her into hitting me. I wheedled, I connived. I finally begged. But she refused to let me have it. I know she suspects the truth - that there’s someone else whose punishment might finally free me from the guilt. But since you’re not here to deliver it, I don’t know who else can.<br />
<br />
Bella refused to be your surrogate. After I got over the frustration, I realized I was glad. I don’t want her anywhere near the ugly stain you left behind. But I don’t know how much longer I can protect her from it. <br />
<br />
Wait. Yes, I do. <br />
<br />
Fifteen more days.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-62915815962413692922011-09-21T22:57:00.000-05:002011-09-21T22:57:37.184-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 17 - Test, part 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LnF_irftzvE/TnqyKCXPFfI/AAAAAAAABQA/SBMeb6yTKJg/s1600/the%2Bkiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="374" width="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LnF_irftzvE/TnqyKCXPFfI/AAAAAAAABQA/SBMeb6yTKJg/s400/the%2Bkiss.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Sunday, August 29 (cont'd.)</b><br />
<br />
My heart thrashed wildly in my chest as he headed for the innocent zipper bag and removed the guilty-looking restraints from within. Handcuffs in hand, he crawled on the bed, then over my body, straddling me, holding me in place beneath him. My breaths came in shallow spurts as I looked up at him, searching his eyes. His expression was so intense that I wasn’t even sure what I saw there. But I knew that beyond the primal lust lay something else . . . something that told me I could trust him. <br />
<br />
I barely realized that I was already holding my arms aloft, in position, waiting. Offering myself up to him. He finally tore his gaze from mine and let his eyes travel down the length of my right arm before his hands followed. He slid the first open cuff around my wrist, careful not to pinch the skin as he closed it shut. I flinched slightly at the clink of metal on metal, encasing my flesh. Edward was too intent on what he was doing to notice.<br />
<br />
He lifted my arm gently to the top rail of my antique headboard so that he could close the other cuff around it. At the snap of the metal closure, my wrist was secured in place, arm dangling helplessly below. He had not placed my arm so high that it was uncomfortable, but the sensation of the hard steel restricting my wrist was . . . strange. I wasn’t sure what I felt.<br />
<br />
Edward’s eyes looked to mine, gauging, waiting for my permission. I could not slow my breath, but I kept my gaze steady and determined. Satisfied, he turned his attention to my left wrist, binding it to the headboard along with its mate. <br />
<br />
I shuddered slightly at the realization that half my limbs were now rendered useless: unable to struggle, unable to caress; unable to do anything but give in. As I pulled at the cuffs, I realized that along with my helplessness, I felt something else altogether. Something almost infuriating in its inappropriateness.<br />
<br />
Arousal.<br />
<br />
As I lay pinned under Edward’s body weight, completely at his mercy, I felt a fire burn hotter through my belly than it ever had before. I was shocked at how much I wanted him to take me; to play with my body and toy with me until I was nothing but a bundle of raw nerves in his hands. The anticipation of what he might do to me made my next breath come out in a whimper.<br />
<br />
Edward knelt down, his face close to mine. His hand caressed my cheek as he looked to me for approval again.<br />
<br />
“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.<br />
<br />
I nodded mutely, as if my tongue were restrained along with my wrists.<br />
<br />
“It feels good to give in, doesn’t it?” he continued, leaning closer and pressing his lips to my face. <br />
<br />
I nodded again and squirmed beneath him.<br />
<br />
“You trust me to make you feel good, don’t you?” His voice was hypnotic, his breath hot on my lips as he hovered over me.<br />
<br />
“Yes,” I finally uttered with a shaky breath of my own.<br />
<br />
The corners of his mouth turned upward in a satisfied grin as he nuzzled his face to mine. I lifted my neck to nuzzle back, unable to show affection any other way.<br />
<br />
“God, how I love you,” he sighed before closing his mouth over mine. Our tongues swirled in a decadent dance together, his hands free to roam my face and then my body as it writhed in response.<br />
<br />
His lips broke away from mine and he raised himself off of me, scooting back on the bed and resting on his haunches between my legs. He violated me with his eyes first, letting them wander lazily over every part of my body. His hands repeated the process then, running up and down my torso, stroking, squeezing, thumbing my nipples, fingering my clit. He touched me wherever he wanted, for as long as he wanted, while my cheeks flamed with pleasure and my mouth made wanton noises to match.<br />
<br />
He had my ankles raised to his shoulders, his mouth tonguing its way down my left calf, when he finally spoke.<br />
<br />
“This would taste even better with a little embellishment.” His eyes gleamed with mischief.<br />
<br />
I bit my lip, unable to produce a witty comeback. I knew he was about to cover me in chocolate and lick me clean, and I couldn’t wait. I was nearly desperate for him to begin.<br />
<br />
He released my legs and lowered them to the bed.<br />
<br />
“I’ll be right back,” he announced as he jumped up and left the room.<br />
<br />
I lay bewildered and cold with shock at the removal of his warm hands from my body. I let my wrists hang limply in their cuffs for a moment and tried to slow my breathing, to calm myself before the next assault. I was amazed how the simple act of removing my free will had heightened my senses and made every nerve twitch with an agony of anticipation.<br />
<br />
Edward returned shortly with a large glass of water, a fresh goblet of wine and a wad of paper towels in hand.<br />
<br />
“In case things get a little messy,” he explained with the ghost of a grin.<br />
<br />
He set the paper towels on the bed and the water glass on the nightstand, then sat down next to me. He brought the wine glass to my lips and tilted it carefully so that I could take a sip. I had barely swallowed when he pressed his lips to mine, pushing his tongue inside to taste the remnants of the cabernet.<br />
<br />
“Delicious,” he sighed, and I sighed along with him. I felt unbelievably high, and the wine itself had nothing to do with it. It was the way he fed it to me and drank it from my mouth that made my desire swell.<br />
<br />
His hand cradled my face and he looked deeply into my eyes.<br />
<br />
“Do you know what I thought the first time I saw your face?” he asked.<br />
<br />
I shook my head dumbly. I was beginning to think that he might as well have gagged me, because when he’d rendered my hands useless, he’s somehow done the same to my tongue.<br />
<br />
“I thought you had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen,” he told me, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Like two enormous drops of Hershey’s syrup. Sweet, glistening chocolate.”<br />
<br />
I let out a short, nervous laugh, shaking my head. <i>And I thought your eyes looked like an untamed sea. I still do.<br />
</i><br />
He reached for the squeeze bottle of Hershey’s syrup and uncapped the top. “I used to fantasize about this early on. Before I’d ever even held your hand.”<br />
<br />
I faintly shook my head again, still stunned to hear these types of admissions. <br />
<br />
“I never dreamed you even thought of me outside the office,” I mumbled, finally finding my tongue.<br />
<br />
He smiled and pulled up the plastic button of the squirt bottle. “I made you come a hundred times in my mind before I ever kissed you. But of course, my imagination was nowhere near as good as the real thing. It never is.”<br />
<br />
He crawled over the bed and positioned himself between my legs again, looking down at me as I sat helplessly staring up at him. He pulled me down a little further on the mattress so that I was lying more than sitting, and my arms were pulled a little tauter as a result. <br />
<br />
“Where to begin?” he murmured as he pointed the container of Hershey’s at my chest. He squeezed the bottle and a splash of cool syrup hit my skin. I gasped at the temperature, then giggled as the chocolate fluid tickled me while dribbling down between my breasts. <br />
<br />
His crooked grin made a brief appearance before he knelt down and ran his tongue up the chocolate stream, lapping at it until it disappeared. I shivered at the sensation and braced myself for more. <br />
<br />
Next he aimed for my right nipple, covering it in a dark river that began running slowly from the peak in every direction. I turned my body slightly, pushing my breast upward as best I could to keep the chocolate from dripping under my arm and down onto my sheets. Edward chuckled at my efforts and dove to the rescue, his tongue damming the syrupy flood before it did any damage. He licked and sucked up every drop, leaving my breast sticky and quivering with pleasure by the time he moved on to the other.<br />
<br />
He repeated the procedure on my left nipple, grinning with satisfaction while my body twisted sideways to prevent the chocolate rivulets from reaching my sheets. Once again he waited until the last minute before lapping the sweet liquid from my skin and sucking my nipple into a rigid peak under his tongue.<br />
<br />
He took great delight in working his way down my body this way, stopping for drinks of water in between drafts of Hershey’s. He painted chocolate hearts on my belly and arrows on my thighs, which pointed, then slithered, toward my groin when he lifted my legs vertically in the air and held them there. And each time he would smile with smug satisfaction as he cleaned the chocolate from my skin before it could run beneath my body.<br />
<br />
He paused after he’d devoured the arrows from my thighs, gazing at the waiting flesh between them. My sex throbbed with desire and my wrists strained in frustration.<br />
<br />
“You know, I always thought I wanted to fill you up with this syrup and then lick every drop out of you,” he pondered as he held the bottle of chocolate sauce inches away from my helpless snatch. “But I don’t want to do anything to spoil your flavor. You’re still the best thing I’ve ever tasted. This stuff pales in comparison.”<br />
<br />
He leaned over to set the syrup bottle on the nightstand, but then brought it back to my mouth instead.<br />
<br />
“Do you want a taste?” he whispered.<br />
<br />
I nodded, mute again.<br />
<br />
“Stick out your tongue,” he commanded.<br />
<br />
I felt silly, but did his bidding. He squeezed the bottle over the tip of my outstretched tongue, filling it with chocolate--too much chocolate. Most of it dripped off my tongue and landed on my chest, while the rest dribbled from the corners of my mouth down my face.<br />
<br />
Edward made an animal noise as he caught my tongue between his lips, sucking the syrup off of it before enveloping my whole mouth. We both giggled and groaned in unison as we shared a rich, velvety-sweet kiss, lapping chocolate from each other until nothing but sticky residue remained. He licked the last bit of sauce from my chest, then offered me a drink of water, tilting the glass carefully to my lips once again.<br />
<br />
“Thank you,” he whispered in my ear, again kissing my cheek gently. “That was the best dessert I’ve ever had, bar none.”<br />
<br />
“I think it was mine, too,” I replied shakily. “Until I do the same to you, that is.”<br />
<br />
His eyes flickered hopefully at me. “I look forward to it,” he said. “But I’m not quite done with you yet.”<br />
<br />
We both took a deep breath. Edward trailed his fingertips up my arms, then grasped my hands gently in his.<br />
<br />
“Are you okay? Is this too uncomfortable for you?”<br />
<br />
“No,” I answered honestly. “I almost forgot I even have hands.”<br />
<br />
His smile was pleased. “Giving up control allows you to feel things in a way you never would otherwise,” he said in the irresistible Sex Voice. “The unpredictability is exciting. You’ve always liked it. That’s why I thought you’d like this.” He massaged my hands and wrists gently, then reached over and planted several kisses along one arm, then the other.<br />
<br />
My breathing became erratic as he moved nearer my face, his lips hovering tantalizingly over mine for a moment.<br />
<br />
“Are you ready to come now?” he asked. His bedroom eyes bored into mine, announcing that he intended to make me.<br />
<br />
“I’m always ready for that,” I whispered hoarsely. I lifted my mouth toward his, seeking his kiss. He responded with a deep and thorough plunder of my mouth. My heart pounded, knowing that my pussy was next.<br />
<br />
True to form, he moved south, hands and mouth exploring and caressing until they came to rest between my legs. My groin throbbed with desire, and when he fingered my opening, it made a wet, smacking noise.<br />
<br />
“So much better than anything man could create,” he said, lifting the cream-coated fingers to his lips and licking them dry. His mouth descended upon me then, wet tongue meeting wet vagina with hungry insistence.<br />
<br />
My wrists again pulled at their restraints, fingers itching to bury themselves in the forest of bronze-colored hair that bobbed between my legs. But my body could only undulate helplessly, hips lifting toward his face, legs surrendering to his hands as he pushed them open. I let myself submit totally, as I always did, to the exquisite sensation of his tongue working me into a frenzy of desire.<br />
<br />
“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” he growled when he finally broke free, and a thrill shot through me at the first sign of him losing his well-kept control. “I want to be inside you in every way possible. I want you to let me in, in every way possible. I can’t explain to you why I need it so much . . . I just do.”<br />
<br />
His breath was ragged, his eyes beseeching as he leaned closer to my face. “Let me in, Bella.”<br />
<br />
I could feel my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I already have,” I told him.<br />
<br />
He shook his head slightly. “I want more.”<br />
<br />
I wasn’t even sure what he meant. If he meant anal sex, I’d already pretty much agreed to it in a roundabout way. Maybe for him, that symbolized the last barrier between us. If I let him breach it, would he finally tear down the ones he still hid behind?<br />
<br />
Though I lay shackled and utterly vulnerable before him, I felt like the one in power as I made my reply.<br />
<br />
“If you want more, then take it.”<br />
<br />
His gaze was as grateful as it was aroused. He kissed me, hard, forcing the taste of my own sex in my mouth. I kissed him back anyway, relenting to his will and his need. <br />
<br />
We were both panting again by the time he had worked his lips back to my crotch. He was insatiable, mouth and fingers everywhere, licking and probing and filling my deepest recesses. I was so wet that he hadn’t even reached for the lube he’d brought, using my own juices and his saliva to grant him access to both of my openings. I barely even winced at the backdoor penetration this time, my muscles more used to relaxing and allowing the intrusion. <br />
<br />
“So fucking hot,” he sighed, his voice a raspy crumb as he plumbed me rhythmically and drew helpless moans from my throat. “I think you’re ready for more now.”<br />
<br />
I barely had time to react when he withdrew his hand and reached for the zipper case. I felt my pulse quicken as he opened the Zip-lock bag inside and pulled out the vibrator. He pressed his thumb to the switch and it emitted a low, humming noise.<br />
<br />
“You’re going to love this,” he declared before pushing my legs open and touching it to my clitoris.<br />
<br />
I cried out in surprise at the intense sensation of the vibrating wand on my nerve-filled flesh. My cries became a series of whimpers as he stroked me up and down with the smooth plastic, wetting its surface with my cream and then teasing my opening with it.<br />
<br />
“I think your pussy wants even more,” he said. I heard the vibrator’s volume go up slightly before the vibrations increased in intensity.<br />
<br />
“Oh God,” I exclaimed before I could stop myself. My hips lifted to meet the shaking wand, ready to take it deeper. Edward’s smirk was maddening as he pushed the vibrator deep inside me, then slowly fucked me with it. In and out . . . in and out . . . at a leisurely pace that drove me crazy. I lost all sense of propriety, if I had any to begin with, and writhed uncontrollably, struggling against the unrelenting handcuffs.<br />
<br />
“Faster,” I finally begged. “Please.”<br />
<br />
“So you like me fucking you this way?” he asked, in tone so melliflous that it made me want to scratch his eyes out. He gave the object several hard thrusts deep inside me to punctuate his question.<br />
<br />
“Yes,” I half-sobbed, half-snarled at him. I looked down and helplessly watched the vibrator disappear inside me, over and over, slowly picking up the pace, while mere inches away Edward’s own dick stood completely erect and ready to do the job.<br />
<br />
“Do you like fucking me with that thing? Wouldn’t you rather do it yourself?” I taunted him.<br />
<br />
“I like watching you come undone. I don’t care about the method.” <br />
<br />
“Fucker,” I mumbled under my breath in between panting and moaning. I really wanted to smack the smug look off of his face then, but I could only lie back and take the fake vibrating cock inside me, letting it bring me to the brink of orgasm despite my irritation that it wasn’t Edward instead.<br />
<br />
But true to form, as my body began to tighten and quicken and build to a climax, he removed the device from me completely. I cried out in frustration, which of course only made Edward’s smirk twitch at the corners even more. He said nothing as he removed the tube of lubricant from his zipper bag, removed the cap and squeezed a huge dollop of it along the length of the vibrator’s wand. I held my breath then, waiting.<br />
<br />
He swirled the clear gel up and down the vibrator, coating it completely, then reached his gel-covered fingers between my legs and did the same to my anus. His eyes met mine one last time, telling me to trust him. <br />
<br />
I obeyed.<br />
<br />
He turned the switch back down to the lowest setting on the vibrator, then touched it to my opening. The vibrations felt good, stimulating the area and making my body begin to pulse against it.<br />
<br />
“Hold still,” he whispered softly. He pushed the smooth tapered tip into me, and I felt my body resist. I concentrated on relaxing to allow the wand entrance. I winced slightly as he pushed the smooth plastic further, stretching me open. And then, like before, my sphincter suddenly gave up the fight and let the vibrator slide neatly inside. <br />
<br />
“There we go,” Edward said with satisfaction. He began pushing in a slow rhythm again, one I appreciated this time, as he worked the rod deeper inside. My moans were lower, throatier while I adjusted to this new and different type of pleasure. I couldn’t deny that it felt amazing, and the more he worked, the more my body seemed to relax and enjoy the vibrations and the sensation of being filled.<br />
<br />
“How does it feel?” he murmured, even though my non-verbal cues were telling the tale.<br />
<br />
“So good. Unbelievably good,” I sighed.<br />
<br />
He quickened the rhythm of the device then, and my body responded in kind, lifting gently to meet each thrust.<br />
<br />
“It looks amazing. So hot,” he whispered hoarsely. He began stroking his erection with his free hand while he worked the vibrator with the other. I longed to do the stroking for him, to touch him and take him in my mouth. Instead I could only watch while he masturbated in time to the vibrator pushing inside me.<br />
<br />
And then, just when I was getting used to the routine, he upped the ante by releasing his own cock and stroking my clitoris instead. I cried out anew as he worked me front and back, fondling my clit while driving the vibrator deep in my ass.<br />
<br />
“Oh, fuck,” I gasped, feeling like one of those wanton adult film stars I used to laugh at. Every nerve was being stimulated beyond capacity, sending me into some kind of sexual overdrive. Edward responded instantly, his fingers working feverishly against my clit while he turned up the speed on the vibrator so that my rectum shook with each thrust.<br />
<br />
I began to utter mindless moans and profanities, wondering if Edward had infected me with his proclivity for swearing. I wanted to free my hands so I could push him away; to stop the overwhelming intensity before it destroyed me. My whole body arched rigidly, my legs trying to come together, but thwarted by his muscular arms in their way.<br />
<br />
“Edward . . . please,” I sobbed. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop. I knew that if I simply uttered that word, he would cease immediately. <br />
<br />
I didn’t want him to.<br />
<br />
His fingers were inside my vagina now, fucking me in time with the vibrator. I gasped and groaned and sobbed. I undulated shamelessly before him. My worthless hands clutched at the empty air.<br />
<br />
And then I came. I came harder than I’ve ever come before. The orgasm ripped through me in violent spasms, every muscle clenching around the sources of ecstasy within me. My head fell back and I made primal noises over which I had no control. I vaguely heard Edward groan along with me, evidently as moved by my total abandon as I was.<br />
<br />
The blood pounded through my ears and all sound was muffled for a minute or two. I lay stunned and panting while Edward slowed the movements of his hands, gently massaging me back down to a semblance of calm. I blinked and looked up at him; his gaze reflected the intensity of what had just happened. He looked at me with something akin to wonder. There was no aura of cockiness or self-congratulation for a job well done. Instead, he looked oddly humbled.<br />
<br />
He turned off the artificial device and gently removed it from my body. He wrapped it in paper towels and dropped it back in the Zip-lock bag, sealing it shut before stowing it back in the sex toy bag.<br />
<br />
He knelt down and began kissing and stroking my trembling body, massaging me soothingly, masterfully, as only he can. By the time he brought his face to mine, I had managed to wind down to a state of spent euphoria. <br />
<br />
“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said before giving me a soft kiss.<br />
<br />
“You’re the one who just sent me to another dimension,” I argued gently. <br />
<br />
“That’s only because you let me do it,” he said. He ran his fingertips, feather-light, over the skin of my cheek, my jaw, my neck. “You let go completely. You let me take you there. Do you have any idea what that means to me?”<br />
<br />
I shook my head slightly. I didn’t, really. To Edward, trusting him with my body must be proof of my trust in him, period. And if that was what this kind of sex meant to him, then it was time for me to test his ability to do the same.<br />
<br />
“I never even knew I could feel something like that. So intense. So beyond anything I could have imagined,” I answered. “Only you could have done that for me.”<br />
<br />
Our eyes met and shared something too deep to put into words.<br />
<br />
“Will you let me do that for you?” I whispered at last.<br />
<br />
It was his turn to fall silent. He merely nodded. Then he raised himself up and reached for the zipper bag again, withdrawing a key from inside it. He crawled up toward the cuffs and unlocked them, rubbing and kissing each wrist after he released them from their metal bracelets.<br />
<br />
“Are you sure you want to set me free already?” I asked with a teasing note to my voice. “You could have taken advantage of my helplessness in lots of other ways. You didn’t even take any pleasure for yourself.” I glanced down at his unsatisfied penis, still partially rigid and probably wondering when its turn was coming.<br />
<br />
His lop-sided grin returned. “If you don’t think I got any pleasure out of what just happened, then you don’t know me nearly as well as I thought.”<br />
<br />
“You know what I mean,” I insisted, finally bringing my gratefully free hands up to stroke his face. “I would have let you do a lot more.”<br />
<br />
He took a deep breath, and I knew he was imagining all the ways he could have taken me. He shook his head and let out a short laugh. “I won’t forget that offer. I promise to take advantage of it in the future.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t worry,” I said, losing my hands in his hair. “I won’t let you go unsatisfied tonight. I think you may enjoy my payback.”<br />
<br />
He let out a tiny growl. “Like I said, I look forward to your retaliation.”<br />
<br />
He covered my mouth in a kiss, which I happily returned. He let his body melt into mine, pressing me into the pillows; and then we rolled off of them and onto the mattress, clutching at one another as we kept the kiss going. <br />
<br />
At last I rolled him onto his back. I let my kisses stray all over his beautiful face, down his rough beard to his neck. He sighed and ran his hands up and down my body, pulling me tighter to him. His cock was hard and ready, and I could feel it teasing the tingling flesh between my legs. It would be so easy to just go with it; to pull him inside and ride him until we both shuddered to a climax.<br />
<br />
Too easy.<br />
<br />
Too easy for tonight, anyway. Tonight was about something else. <br />
<br />
I grabbed a pair of the cuffs that still lay on the corner of the mattress, near the headboard. I dangled them over Edward’s nose and grinned down at him.<br />
<br />
“My turn for a little fun,” I said with a wicked grin.<br />
<br />
He sighed again, more heavily this time. A sigh of ready submission. <br />
<br />
“The pleasure will be mine, I’m sure,” he replied, with a lusty glint in his eye.<br />
<br />
I lifted myself off of him and went back to the pillows, fluffing and rearranging them back to their original configuration.<br />
<br />
“Are you going to cuff me the same way I did you?” he asked. “You can do other things with the handcuffs, you know.”<br />
<br />
A few images flitted through my mind: hands behind his back, or together over his head; or even cuffed to his own ankles. <i>Where am I getting this stuff?</i> I wondered with a slight shudder. <br />
<br />
Edward could see that I was thinking of the possibilities. The glint in his eyes had the sharp edge of anticipation now.<br />
<br />
“No, I plan to match everything you just did to me. Tit for tat. So to speak,” I said with a smirk not unlike the ones he was so good at giving me. <br />
<br />
“I can live with that,” he said, scooting over and settling back on the pillows. “Shackle me, baby. Make me your love slave.”<br />
<br />
He had me giggling as I straddled him and finagled the bracelets around his wrists. I’d obviously never used handcuffs before, and they were a little trickier to maneuver than I expected. But by the time the last “click” secured Edward to my headboard, the humor had dissipated on both sides.<br />
<br />
We studied each other for a long moment, adjusting to the shift in control. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. He’d probably been in this position before. I couldn’t think about that.<br />
<br />
I grasped his face firmly in mine and leaned down to give him a kiss. I found myself kissing him harder, more forcefully than I usually did. It seemed there was something about the temporary imbalance of power that brought hidden desires to the surface. Edward had known this all along. If he was so eager to explore those desires, then I would not disappoint him.<br />
<br />
He was panting when I finally ripped my mouth from his. His eyes were already taking on that glassy, unfocused appearance that happened whenever he let sensations and emotions take over his logic. The fire in my belly ignited once more at the sight. <br />
<br />
I kissed him again, roughly, invading his mouth thoroughly with my tongue, pulling gently at his lips with my teeth. He groaned and strained at the cuffs, his body pushing up into mine. I was already grinding slowly against him. A little repositioning would be all I needed to take his erection inside me.<br />
<br />
Instead, I tore my mouth away again and rose on my knees, pushing my left breast toward his still-open mouth. He reached for it greedily, sucking and tickling it with his tongue. I clutched his hair in my hands and pushed his face against me. He grunted and attacked my breast with renewed fervor; I cried out at the now-familiar sensation of pain mixed with pleasure. <br />
<br />
I yanked his head back and twisted slightly, pressing my other nipple to his waiting mouth. He tortured it hungrily while I moaned and kneaded his scalp with my fingers. I thrilled to this new feeling of dominance; of being the one in charge of both my pleasure and his. It was a heady, undeniable high. Now I had a taste of what Edward felt when he had taken that responsibility just moments ago.<br />
<br />
I pulled away from him and he gasped for air. I smoothed his hair gently and stared down at him, unable to keep the tiny smile from my lips.<br />
<br />
His irrepressible half-grin appeared. “You love this, don’t you. Calling the shots.”<br />
<br />
I bit my lip, but my smile grew anyway. “I have to admit, I really do.” I let out a short laugh. “But what I really like is that you love it just as much as I do.”<br />
<br />
His smiled faded as his expression became more serious. “I love <i>you</i>. I’m yours to do with as you will.”<br />
<br />
I ached with the intensity of my feelings for him in that moment. I felt an actual pang deep in my chest. <br />
<br />
I ran the tip of my finger down the side of his face, then traced the pink softness of his lips. <br />
<br />
“I own you completely,” I whispered.<br />
<br />
He nodded.<br />
<br />
“Then you won’t mind if I label you as such,” I said, my smirk returning.<br />
<br />
His half-smile was cautious. “Of course not,” he said uncertainly.<br />
<br />
I reached for the bottle of Hershey’s syrup, and he let out a relieved chuckle. I slid off of his body and knelt next to him as I pulled up the stopper on the bottle. I aimed it at the top of his chest, and then carefully squeezed the syrup out to spell out the letter “B.”<br />
<br />
His body stiffened when the cold chocolate sauce hit his skin, then shook with silent laughter as I continued to label him in large letters down his stomach:<br />
<br />
BELLA’S.<br />
<br />
When I got to the end, I made a small arrow on Edward’s abdomen that pointed directly to the tip of his penis, which lay rigidly pointing back at the chocolate brand.<br />
<br />
I smiled with satisfaction at my masterpiece while he continued to giggle.<br />
<br />
“Now that is a true work of art,” I said, admiring the sight my name spelled out all over Edward’s glorious physique.<br />
<br />
“Well, it’s certainly truthful,” he admitted.<br />
<br />
“What’s that saying? Art is truth? Truth is art? Whatever,” I said with a dismissive shrug. “All I know is that it looks delicious.”<br />
<br />
And then I put my tongue to work, slurping the decadent drizzle off of his skin while he sighed appreciatively. I loved having a reason to run my tongue over every inch of him, feeling the ripples of muscle and bone under his smooth skin as I lapped the syrup from him.<br />
<br />
The chocolate made me thirsty, and I was glad that Edward had had the forethought to bring a glass of water into the bedroom with him. By the time I’d licked his torso clean, I’d had enough chocolate to last me a lifetime. But I simply couldn’t resist the temptation to take that last step.<br />
<br />
I grabbed the bottle in one hand and grasped Edward’s erection firmly in the other. His breathing quickened as we stared at one another. And then I let a long, languorous stream of syrup drip down over the head of his cock. I watched with fascination as it slowly oozed down the length of him and into my waiting hand.<br />
<br />
“I’ll never look at Drumstick ice cream cones the same way again,” I grinned. Edward’s answering chuckle was cut short when my lips closed over the tip of his chocolate-covered dick. I worked my mouth thoroughly up and down his shaft, licking and sucking and lapping up the chocolate until only naked skin remained. <br />
<br />
He moaned and began to twist against his restraints as I worked. Soft, mumbled expletives escaped him, and his eyes took on that glazed look again. It was time to go further now; to bring him to the place that he’d taken me. I wanted nothing more than to push him further than he’d ever been pushed, and for his release to be as earth-shattering as mine had been.<br />
<br />
Could I do it? I wasn’t sure. But I was ready to rise to the challenge. <br />
<br />
Edward certainly had. His cock was fully engorged and twitching with need now. I took him deep in my mouth, trying to relax my throat and swallow more of him than I ever had. He groaned loudly, letting me know how good it felt. I released him, took a long breath and tried again, pushing my lips down the length of him, taking him deep and holding him there until I choked slightly and relinquished him again.<br />
<br />
He swore and gave me a look of amazed ecstasy that I would try this for him. It was all the impetus I needed to keep on trying. I added it to my repertoire as I stroked and pumped him with my hands and sucked him deep in my mouth. His legs fell open easily when I pushed against them, and I worked my tongue all around his scrotum and behind, to that taboo place that Edward was so fond of. <br />
<br />
But would he welcome the role reversal? Or was his fetish a one-way street?<br />
<br />
I heard soft moans as I tickled and teased the area with my hands and mouth. I remembered that when I had done this to him briefly in the shower last weekend, he seemed to like it. Maybe he would surprise me. Maybe he wanted this. <br />
<br />
I’d read somewhere that a lot of men loved to have their prostate stimulated, and that the best way to do that was through internal contact. That meant him taking my finger inside him just as I had let him do to me. <br />
<br />
I pushed my fingertips experimentally against his opening, gently massaging it in circles. I looked up at him; he stared at me intently. I tried to read his eyes, but I still wasn’t sure.<br />
<br />
I crawled back up his body and brought my face close to his. I leaned in and kissed him gently. “You know I want to be inside you as badly as you want to be inside me, don’t you?”<br />
<br />
His breaths were sharp and quick. A small battle seemed to wage momentarily in his eyes. He finally swallowed audibly and nodded.<br />
<br />
“Are you ready to let me in, Edward?”<br />
<br />
“Yes,” he answered hoarsely.<br />
<br />
I kissed him again, more deeply this time, forcing the taste of his sex on him as he had done to me. He kissed me back freely, fervently. He was ready. We both were.<br />
<br />
I returned to my vantage point between his legs and reached for the tube of lubricant that still lay near the foot of the bed. I squeezed out a generous dollop, coating my index and middle fingers with the slippery substance. I was amazed at how turned on I felt at the prospect of doing this to Edward--entering his body in the most intimate way possible, the way he had already done to me so many times.<br />
<br />
His breath was coming in short spurts and his entire body was stiff with anticipation. His wrists pulled helplessly at the handcuffs--unconsciously, it seemed; but his legs remained open for me. His cock strained against his belly. I leaned down and ran my tongue firmly up its underside as I pushed my index finger against the tight circle of his anus. His breath came out in a shuddering gasp and his hips bucked up slightly, pushing the head of his cock into my mouth. I welcomed it freely, swallowing him down deep once again until he swore and groaned in turn.<br />
<br />
As I took him in and out of my mouth, tongue and lips working the sensitive head with each pass, I pushed my finger slowly into the snug muscle of his sphincter until it released. His cry was soft as his body relented and gave in to me. I loved the hot tightness of his inner muscles gripping my finger as I pushed it deeper inside him. <br />
<br />
I released his cock from my mouth and sat up to look him in the eyes. They were dazed and glassy with desire; pleading for both my possession and my mercy. I held his gaze as I began moving my finger slowly inside him, pulling out a little, then pushing back in, each time a little more forcefully than the last. His breathing matched my rhythm, growing louder with each thrust of my finger, his nostrils flaring to capture more oxygen.<br />
<br />
I leaned in closer, my breath teasing his as I spoke.<br />
<br />
“You like this, don’t you,” I murmured, my words echoing his from the nights he had penetrated me front and back with his own unrelenting hand.<br />
<br />
His weak chuckle was short-lived when I slowly, gingerly pressed my second finger into him, along with the first. He let out a strangled cry as I pushed inexorably upward, curling my fingers into the base of his perineum. The sound of his panting breath was an incredible aphrodisiac to me. I was stunned at how good it felt to invade him this way, to give him the type of ecstasy he was so good at giving me--the type over which it was impossible to have any control. I stroked him firmly, deeply inside his rectum, pushing repeatedly until his endless moans matched my rhythm. <br />
<br />
I stretched up and leaned my free hand on the bed next to Edward’s chest, bringing my face close to his. I reached back into my memory banks and found more of his words that I could aim and fire back at him.<br />
<br />
“I’m going to give you the most amazing orgasm you’ve ever had,” I promised. “I’m going to make you come like you’ve never come before.”<br />
<br />
“Christ,” he swore, his blasphemy ending in yet another groan. “I don’t doubt that one bit.”<br />
<br />
I kissed him then, my tongue moving in cadence with the ministrations of my fingers. I palmed his balls, squeezing them against his cheeks as I worked. I was unbelievably high on the power I felt as he kissed me desperately, his wrists struggling against the immovable cuffs while his hips surged rhythmically into my hands. <br />
<br />
So this was what it truly felt like to be the one in control, able to give ecstasy or withhold it at will. I was shocked at how humbling it was--not to him, but to me.<br />
<br />
I had no desire to toy with him or take his pleasure away. In fact, having him so totally at my mercy made me feel more benevolent than I’d ever felt before. I’d never wanted so much for him to feel only amazing, thrilling, unforgettable things at my hands. His happiness and satisfaction only heightened my own. Once again the lines were blurred. His ecstasy was mine.<br />
<br />
“I’m so in love with you,” I sighed as I broke our kiss. “Every part of you. Every inch of you. I want you to feel it in every cell of your body. I want you to know it, deep down, like you’ve never known anything in your life.”<br />
<br />
The words seemed too small to encompass my true feelings, but I had to try. The expression in his eyes was so full, it was nearly unreadable. <br />
<br />
“Make me feel it,” he whispered hoarsely. It wasn’t an order so much as a plea, but I treated it as an imperative.<br />
<br />
My lips trailed along his jaw, my tongue tracing the jutting bones down to the straining veins and sinews of his neck. I reached down and grasped his cock in my free hand, then began moving my hands in unison, stroking him inside and out. They never released their charge, ceaselessly massaging his most vulnerable parts as my lips worked their way down his body. I repositioned myself as I went, leaning and bending to suck his nipples into hard buttons, then lick the curls of hair that dotted his chest and thickened down his belly. My tongue swirled inside his bellybutton, tickling and teasing on its way down to the swollen head of his cock.<br />
<br />
I tongued its tip while my hand pumped the shaft, and his moans took on a tinge of desperation. I doused him thoroughly with saliva, then pulled my mouth away and concentrated on the motion of my hands, watching with fascination as my fingers repeatedly disappeared deep between his cheeks and his genitals darkened with increasing arousal. I gripped his cock a little harder than I usually did, pushing forcefully down toward his scrotum while my fingers inside him did the same. I continued bringing my hands together this way, squeezing his balls in between, applying more pressure from all directions until his hips bucked helplessly in response.<br />
<br />
“Holy fuck!” he finally exploded with a broken cry. “What are you doing to me?”<br />
<br />
A tiny smile played at my lips. The question was rhetorical. He knew exactly what I was doing: pushing him to his limits. Intensifying his pleasure until he wasn’t sure if it was pain. It was the test was he wanted of me, and of himself.<br />
<br />
I had found his threshold, and I balanced there precariously for as long as possible. I fondled him faster, rougher, more ruthlessly than I ever had before. The only sounds I heard were the friction of wet skin on skin, ragged breaths and animal grunts of ecstasy.<br />
His engorged cock swelled and leaked fluid onto my busy fingers, and I knew he was close.<br />
<br />
“I want to watch you come for me,” I whispered, the intensity of my tone surprising even me as I worked him into a lather. “I want to see that cock erupt all over the both of us.”<br />
<br />
His eyes were wild, almost disbelieving as he stared into mine, then at my hands, bringing him to the brink. His breathing was labored, his arms straining so hard at the handcuffs that I thought he might break my headboard. <br />
<br />
It was the most intensely erotic thing I had ever seen.<br />
<br />
“Give it to me,” I ordered in a low voice as I milked his swollen member to the breaking point. “Give me every ounce of your cum.”<br />
<br />
His moan was one of total surrender as his eyes squeezed shut and his head fell back on the pillows. When his cock twitched violently in my hand, I let go of it, right at its moment of climax. It convulsed helplessly in the air before emitting its first viscous stream of semen; then pulsed with another, and another, and countless more in perfect time to the thrusts of my fingers inside him.<br />
<br />
He cursed and jerked and moaned, each breath a sob of euphoria that was music to my ears. I sat staring at him, somewhat stunned, as he rode out his orgasm, the longest I’d ever witnessed. I had never seen anything sexier than his total abandon in that moment. <br />
<br />
I stared dumbly at his spent and sweaty form before me, hands hanging limply in their restraints, torso decorated with ribbons of glistening ejaculate. I was enthralled at what I had just done to him, and the intensity with which he had responded. I tried to convey the depth of my emotion with my eyes when his head fell forward and he gazed at me from under heavy lids. I decided to tell him with my actions instead.<br />
<br />
I slowly withdrew my fingers from inside him and wiped them with a nearby paper towel; then I knelt down and lapped at his dripping member while he groaned anew. I cleaned every bit of semen from him with meticulous thoroughness, licking it from his stomach and chest after I’d sucked every drop from his cock. I relished its bitter taste in my mouth as much as I had the chocolate earlier. It was a part of him, and I wanted every part equally--the good, the bad, and everything in between.<br />
<br />
By the time I neared his face, his expression was still a bit shell-shocked.<br />
<br />
“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “That you would do that for me. . . ”<br />
<br />
I traced the rugged line of his jaw, then the soft skin of his cheek.<br />
<br />
“I’d do anything for you.” I kissed him gently; his eyes closed as if in denial.<br />
<br />
“But that was . . . “ His words fell away and he shook his head.<br />
<br />
“. . . no different than the mind-blowing things you’ve done for me,” I finished for him.<br />
<br />
“But most girls wouldn’t--”<br />
<br />
“I’m not most girls,” I cut him off sharply this time before he could say the words.<br />
<br />
“No,” he agreed. He closed his eyes again and leaned his face into my hand, slowly rubbing the prickly stubble of his jaw down my palm. He sighed and finally said, “You’re so much more than I deserve.”<br />
<br />
His eyes were self-condemning. I knew that look all too well. My heart sank.<br />
<br />
“Don’t do this,” I warned. “I’m not going to sit here and argue with you about what you do or don’t deserve. The fact is that I love you, and I love making love to you. That’s not going to change, so you might as well accept it.”<br />
<br />
He gave me his half-smile, but I could see that his heart wasn’t in it. The sight of it nearly broke my own.<br />
<br />
I reached for the handcuffs key on the nightstand, but froze in place when I heard his next words.<br />
<br />
“Why did you let me hit you earlier?”<br />
<br />
Every hair on my body prickled in shock. I turned my head slowly back to his penitent stare.<br />
<br />
“What did you say?” <br />
<br />
“You heard me,” he said, his voice low and hollow.<br />
<br />
I bristled anew and affixed my indignant eyes on his. “You didn’t hit me. You slapped my ass a few times before we had sex. That’s called foreplay in most circles.”<br />
<br />
He shook his head, his smile bitter this time. “I went too far. You should have stopped me.”<br />
<br />
I grasped his face in mine and held it a little too firmly. I was so upset with him that I could feel tears fighting their way to the corners of my eyes.<br />
<br />
“If you had gone too far, trust me, I would have stopped you. You have never done anything to me that I didn’t want you to. Do you understand that?”<br />
<br />
I wasn’t sure if he did. He still had that unworthy look in his eyes. He answered my query with one of his own.<br />
<br />
“So will you do something that I want, if I ask you to?” <br />
<br />
I didn’t know how to answer. It felt like a trick question. I finally nodded, ever so slightly.<br />
<br />
“I want you to hit me back.”<br />
<br />
<i>No. No, no, no. I didn’t just hear that.</i> <br />
<br />
My eyes squeezed shut in denial; to block out the self-loathing in his eyes. My head began to shake back and forth in refusal.<br />
<br />
“Look at me, Bella,” he ordered. Though he was the one restrained, I obeyed. His eyes were filled with grim determination now. “I need you to do it. Tit for tat. Payback. It’s your turn and I want you to take it.”<br />
<br />
“Stop it,” I said, my voice quaking with fear and anger. I reached for the key again but he lurched up against me, jostling me so that I lost my balance and had to put my hand on the bed to catch myself instead.<br />
<br />
“Hit me,” he demanded again through gritted teeth. “Spank me, slap me, fucking punch me in the face. I don’t care. Just do it.”<br />
<br />
I stared at him in escalating horror. He was serious. His eyes seethed with a sort of crazed desperation that I’d never seen before. His fists clenched and pulled at the handcuffs. <br />
<br />
“I’m not going to hit you,” I refused, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “I love you.”<br />
<br />
“If you love me you’ll do it,” he insisted. “You’ll make us even. I can’t live with myself otherwise.”<br />
<br />
I stared into his eyes, uncomprehending. He really believed what he was saying. For the first time since I’d known him, I was truly, deeply afraid. Not because of what he might do to me, but because of what he was doing to himself. <br />
<br />
My stunned impotence was shattered by the sudden shaking of the bed as Edward gave the handcuffs a furious yank, punctuated with a frustrated howl. I jerked back in renewed shock, leaning away from his straining body. He looked into my horrified face, his own twisting with pain.<br />
<br />
“Please,” he begged weakly.<br />
<br />
Hot tears spilled down my face, one from each eye. I stared helplessly at him, utterly speechless. This was the first time I’d ever felt completely incapable of giving him what he wanted.<br />
<br />
“Why won’t you give me what I have coming to me?” he said in frustrated defeat, the tears in his eyes threatening to fall.<br />
<br />
I sniffed and wiped away my own. “Because I don’t have any reason to punish you,” I said, bringing the suspicions I’d buried out into the light. This had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with her. I didn’t know if Tanya was alive or dead, and it didn’t really matter. Her ghost lingered between us regardless.<br />
<br />
“Whomever you need absolution from, it’s not me,” I told him quietly.<br />
<br />
Edward’s face crumpled. He tried to fight the tears and lost. I reached for the key; he didn’t stop me this time. I unlocked the metal circles that bound him and circled my arms around him instead. He buried his face in my shoulder and sobbed silently, his tears hot on my skin. My own fell freely in his hair. He clutched me to him and I rocked him gently in my arms; my sweet, beautiful, haunted boy.<br />
<br />
“Do you remember what you asked me the first night we were together?” I whispered at last, stroking his hair. “When you’d had too much to drink and didn’t censor what you said?” <br />
<br />
“No, what?” he muttered hoarsely. <br />
<br />
“You said, ’Let me love you,’” I reminded him. “And I did.”<br />
<br />
He made no reply. I pulled away slightly and cradled his face in my hand, making him look at me. <br />
<br />
“Please let me love you back,” I said quietly. <br />
<br />
He looked like he might cry again, and I felt as if I could; but we had already shed too many tears for one night. <br />
<br />
At last he nodded. I touched my lips to his; it felt like a covenant sealed. <br />
<br />
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.<br />
<br />
I wanted to shake my head; to tell him, “Don’t be.” But I let Edward have his apology, since he needed to give it so badly - even if it fell on the wrong ears.<br />
<br />
I kissed him again, then suggested we take a shower. He followed me silently to the bathroom and we washed the evening’s stains away. <br />
<br />
He helped me outfit the bed with clean sheets and fresh pillowcases to cradle our heads. We curled ourselves into one being and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.<br />
<br />
***********************************************************************<br />
<br />
It’s funny how things always look different in the morning light. <br />
<br />
Today the sun seemed to bring with it a tranquil peace when it shone through my bedroom window. Gone were the tension and trials of the night before. When Edward’s eyes met mine this morning, I knew that we had passed the test.<br />
<br />
One of them, anyway.<br />
<br />
Today was about finding our present and future together, even though we used the past to do it. <br />
<br />
In fact, today was mostly about you, Mom.<br />
<br />
Edward wanted to look through all your old records, and not surprisingly, a lot of them were the same ones he inherited from his aunt Jeanne. We listened to them all day while I showed him our old photo albums. You should have seen his face. He was so interested in hearing about you and Phil and Dad, and my old friends from when I was a kid. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of my stories about the good times from my past, most of them spent with you. <br />
<br />
He asked to see your old guitar, so I dragged it out of its dusty closet corner and let him tune it. The poor old instrument needs new strings, but it didn’t sound too bad by the time he was done tinkering with it. <br />
<br />
He played and sang along with some of the old records, and I sat cross-legged on the carpet across from him, completely enthralled. I even chimed in a time or two, which Edward loved. He was far too complimentary of my meager singing abilities. He puts me to shame in that regard. But he seemed inordinately excited to hear me pick out some harmonies, and the more he encouraged me, the more confident I became. I could feel you in that moment, smiling down on me; on us. Maybe you were.<br />
<br />
He gave me another impromptu guitar lesson, too. He taught me all the chords to “A Case Of You.” <i>You’re in my blood like holy wine, you taste so bitter and so sweet . . . Oh I could drink a case of you darling and still be on my feet. . .*</i> All I have to do is practice my finger-picking. I think I’m getting the hang of playing again, slowly but surely. The guitar doesn’t feel so alien in my lap anymore. Edward says he’s going to restring it for me so I can practice on my own.<br />
<br />
He’s so good to me, Mom. It kills me when he thinks he isn’t. I wish I knew how to heal him the way he has me. I wish he would let me.<br />
<br />
We made love only once today, when we woke up. He treated me like I was made of hand-spun glass, careful and reverent. Even so, we managed to twist the sheets until we tossed them aside, letting the morning sun spill its light over our naked bodies melding together. He was so beautiful in those golden rays that I wanted to weep.<br />
<br />
As he moved sensuously all over me and inside me, I reached down without warning and gave him one hard, loud slap across both cheeks. Startled, he stopped and looked anxiously into my eyes.<br />
<br />
“There,” I said with finality. “We’re even.”<br />
<br />
He eyes softened gratefully; his lip turned upward in the slightest of smiles. Then he continued making love to me until we both reached our favorite pinnacle. We took the leap together, unafraid of the landing. <br />
<br />
We would be there to catch each other.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*“A Case Of You” by Joni Mitchell, copyright 1970.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-56087442532145001162011-09-18T17:55:00.002-05:002011-09-18T17:58:55.344-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 17 - Test, part 2<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Sunday, August 29</b><br />
<br />
When Edward is sleeping, I can imagine what he must have looked like as a boy.<br />
<br />
His furrows are smoothed, his fine lines softened into an untroubled landscape. His lips and cheeks are still translucent pink, eyelashes inordinately long. The hallmarks of a child’s beauty still linger in the blueprint of his adult face. I long to see photographs of Edward when he was young and carefree, still unspoiled by life’s harsher lessons.<br />
<br />
That vestige of long-lost innocence held me in its spell as I watched him sleep on my sofa. The early-morning massage appointments, rigorous tennis match and punishing sex that followed had taken their toll. We had settled on the couch after our kitchen tryst, wrapped in a silent cocoon of each other’s arms and our own thoughts, before Edward grew drowsy and I encouraged him to take a nap. He insisted I lay with him, and I was happy to oblige for awhile, feeling each breath he took rumble in his chest before stirring the hair on my neck. <br />
<br />
I was wide awake, thinking. Pondering. Trying to figure out why Edward always pushed our boundaries in the sexual arena and nowhere else. Maybe that was the place where words weren’t as important; where he could simply take action and be in control. <br />
<br />
I wondered where he would have taken our game if I hadn’t sucked the wind out of his sails. Did he really bring sex toys to my house this weekend? If so, what kind? I doubted they would be anything that would really shock me. I had already crossed the line with him that first night, when he literally had me up against the wall. In that telltale moment, I had made the decision that I would follow wherever he led me. I had given my body, my heart and my soul to him willingly. So what was he still fighting for?<br />
<br />
I wasn’t sure, but I had no doubt that he was struggling. The fear was in his eyes again. The same fear that Rosalie had once spoken of seeing when she looked at him--the fear I saw the first night I saw him sing. Something was changing . . . escalating. I felt the fear seeping into me through osmosis. But I wasn’t afraid for myself. I was afraid for him.<br />
<br />
I stroked the soft hair at his temple and touched my lips to his in butterfly kisses. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and his arms tightened around me, but he didn’t awaken. There was no greater feeling than the one I had in that moment, knowing that even unconsciously, I made him smile.<br />
<br />
I wanted nothing more than to erase Edward’s sadness; to make him forget whatever was plaguing him, at least for a little while. Having the power to do that, even temporarily, was not one I took lightly. He had done the same for me many times over. I was ready to do whatever he asked--or demanded--of me. I didn’t feel ashamed of my acquiescence because I would be asking for his as well. <br />
<br />
He had told me that sex was a two-way street--all about give and take. To me, every aspect of a relationship should to be that way, not just the sex. I was willing to give, and I expected him to do the same in return. He hadn’t disappointed me so far. <br />
<br />
Except for not revealing to me what was eating away at his soul, of course. I was torn between wanting to know everything about his past and enjoying my ignorant bliss awhile longer. I had the feeling this was one of those times when I should be careful what I wished for.<br />
<br />
Hunger pangs began to gnaw at me as I lay wrapped in Edward’s embrace. I looked over his shoulder to the clock on the wall and saw that it would soon be time for dinner. I decided that I should fix something substantial, because I was sure he would be ravenous when he awoke. <br />
<br />
I also suspected that our evening was going to be an intense one. Like last Saturday night, I knew that he was not finished with me. This would be another weekend of exploration, of pushing boundaries and getting to know one another even more intimately. <br />
<br />
“Bring it on, Mister Cullen,” I whispered softly in his ear. “I’m ready for you.”<br />
<br />
He made a low, throaty sound but remained asleep. I chuckled a little as I tried to gently extricate myself from his grip, but as I slid out of his arms and let my feet drop to the floor, he scowled and grabbed for me in earnest.<br />
<br />
“Where are you going?” he murmured, eying me through heavy lids.<br />
<br />
“To make us some dinner. Don’t get up. I’ll wake you when it’s ready.”<br />
<br />
The smile played at the corner of his lips again. “You are the most awesome girlfriend ever.”<br />
<br />
“Yes, I am, and don’t you forget it.”<br />
<br />
“Impossible.”<br />
<br />
I pulled the nearby afghan over his shirtless torso before I kissed him on the tip of the nose and made my way to the kitchen. <br />
<br />
The first thing I noticed was the tablecloth, wrinkled and completely askew from the primal acts that had taken place on its surface. I smoothed and straightened it out of habit, then realized with chagrin that it needed to be thrown in the hamper after having my naked body thrust repeatedly against its surface.<br />
<br />
Goosebumps rose on my skin at the memory. It wasn’t a regretful shudder, but a delicious shiver. I wondered why I didn’t feel more humiliated at being spanked like a child before being fucked like a whore. Or maybe I did feel humiliated, but perversely enjoyed the debasement. Perhaps on some deeply subconscious level, I felt I deserved the punishment, for transgressions long gone but not forgotten. And maybe Edward was provoking me into retaliation--waiting for me to strike back and give him the treatment he thought he deserved.<br />
<br />
I tried now to dissect what I’d been feeling as Edward’s slaps to my ass had continued, methodical and deliberate, hard and unrelenting. The resulting sensations had forced me to teeter on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain until the line between them began to blur, one becoming indistinguishable from the other. <br />
<br />
I’d been undeniably turned on by his show of dominance. My groin was throbbing with want and thick with cream by the time he impaled me with his cock. I had felt like a cat in heat, panting to be taken, reveling in the sensation of his body possessing mine. Every hard slap of his torso against my ass was reminiscent of the smacks from his hands--pushing my body to the brink of pain with the intensity of its pleasure. He liked bringing me to the edge; dangling me there on the precipice until I fell with him, always on the side of ecstasy.<br />
<br />
I had enjoyed teasing him too, the times I had gone down on him. Giving and withholding pleasure; making him wait until I was ready for him to come. Was that so different than what he had done to me this afternoon? We were already mastering the art of give and take, yet Edward still seemed intent on testing our limits. <br />
<br />
Fine. I could test his limits, too. I had the feeling that’s what he was after anyway, when all was said and done. He was waiting for me to push back.<br />
<br />
As I began poking around in the refrigerator, I decided that I was probably over-thinking things. I doubted Edward had ever sat around analyzing our sex life thus far. He had probably reasoned it down to the basic fact that he loved fucking me, and I loved it too. We should just enjoy ourselves, do whatever felt good and forego whatever didn’t. My life would probably easier if I thought like a man more often.<br />
<br />
After a quick inventory of the kitchen, I discovered I had the ingredients to make a simple version of Italian chicken with some rice pilaf and veggies on the side. I hummed contentedly to myself the entire time I prepared the meal. I like cooking for Edward, just as I did for Charlie. Men are so easy to please in that respect. They always seem inordinately grateful for even the simplest offering. <br />
<br />
Chicken in the oven, broccoli and rice on the stove, I left the kitchen unattended for a moment to throw on some real clothes. I refused to sit at the table and eat dinner in my underwear, regardless of the fact that they might be coming off again right after the meal. Besides, this pair was ruined with the evidence of our last bout of love-making. <br />
<br />
As I threw them in the hamper along with the kitchen tablecloth, I prayed again that my birth control pills had been doing their job this past week. I had gone from zero to one-eighty in the sex department in just eight days. When I stopped to think about how much sex I’d been having, I was a little stunned. Was that normal for a couple who had just gotten together? I supposed it was. Sort of the “honeymoon” phase of a new relationship.<br />
<br />
Then again, since when did Edward and I ever qualify as “normal” anyway?<br />
<br />
The cooking smells permeating the apartment must have awakened him, because he was standing next to the sofa, yawning and stretching, when I emerged from the bedroom. He looked more like a lion than ever, mane awry in every direction, ubiquitous scruff sprouting from his face and neck. <br />
<br />
He was magnificent. <br />
<br />
“You knock me out,” I whispered, half to myself, as our eyes met.<br />
<br />
“What’s that?” he asked as he approached, arms outstretched to me. <br />
<br />
“Nothing. I’m a lucky girl, that’s all,” I sighed as I allowed myself to be enfolded in his embrace. I hugged him close and laid my cheek against his chest, taking comfort in the beat of his heart beneath my ear.<br />
<br />
“Always backwards,” he teased softly, his fingers stroking my hair. “Especially when I wake up to delicious smells like this. I can’t believe you cooked for me again.”<br />
<br />
“Why wouldn’t I? We have to eat. And I have yet to see you attempt anything more <br />
than a sandwich.” I grinned up at him, and the sight of him so close nearly knocked me out again.<br />
<br />
“I’m going to fix my grilled salmon for you sometime, and make you eat your words along with it.” He grinned back down at me as his hands gently cupped the sides of my face, then combed through the hair behind my ears. His touch still undid me completely. I wondered if I would ever be immune.<br />
<br />
“Promises, promises,” I said with a slight roll of my eyes. <br />
<br />
“Hey, that’s how I got Lucky to stick around. Maybe it’ll work on you, too.”<br />
<br />
I shook my head in exasperation. “I think your other methods have already done the trick.”<br />
<br />
He answered with only a self-satisfied “hmm” before giving me a sweet, languorous kiss. It was all I could do to pull away from him to go check on dinner. He tagged along close behind, his hand refusing to relinquish my waist. He hovered over my shoulder as I checked on the chicken, then peered down into the dishes while I stirred and seasoned them some more.<br />
<br />
“Looks great,” he said appreciatively. “I’m famished.”<br />
<br />
“I wonder why,” I retorted with the quirk of an eyebrow as I turned to face him. My eyes raked over his long leanness, clad only in slate gray boxer briefs. <br />
<br />
“Why don’t you put on some clothes for dinner?” I suggested as my gaze hovered helplessly over his bare torso in my face. “Unless you want me to end up using you as my plate.”<br />
<br />
His eyebrows shot up and that irresistible smirk possessed his mouth. “Funny you should mention that. I have very special plans of that nature for dessert.”<br />
<br />
A surge of adrenaline raced through me as I raised questioning eyes to his.<br />
<br />
“You still haven’t snooped in my backpack, have you?” he asked. He sounded almost annoyed. “How many hints does a guy have to drop?”<br />
<br />
I ignored the familiar little dance my nerves were doing down my spine and through my groin. I narrowed my eyes at him and said, “Don’t worry. I plan to do a thorough inspection after dinner. You’re obviously dying for me to find out just how perverted you really are.”<br />
<br />
His grin was truly devilish then, even while he feigned innocence. “I’m not perverted at all. I’m only interested in giving you complete and unadulterated pleasure.”<br />
<br />
Sweet Jesus. “You already do that,” I informed him, as if he didn’t already know.<br />
<br />
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” he murmured, leaning closer and giving me a look so provocative that I was ready to disrobe and have a go with him on the countertop next.<br />
<br />
“I’ll bet you are,” I answered hoarsely before I gave him a gentle shove. He really did need to take his naked, smirky, sexy self away from me before dinner was ruined. I wondered if he had any idea how deeply he affected me, even more so now that we were intimate. His nearness was almost more than I could take sometimes.<br />
<br />
Edward let out a defeated sigh, then went to the living room to retrieve his clothes while I set the table. By the time he returned, I was pulling the chicken from the oven. He helped me carry the dishes to the table, then sat down and filled his plate with enough rations to feed a small platoon.<br />
<br />
“Do you want a salad, or bread, or fruit or anything?” I asked him, worried that I hadn’t fixed enough food.<br />
<br />
“No, I’m fine. This is so good,” he mumbled through a mouthful of chicken.<br />
<br />
“Okay,” I said with a small laugh. Even after Charlie’s roughest days on the police beat, he never ate this much. But I liked the fact that Edward had stopped having impeccable manners in front of me. It wasn’t in him to be a slob, but he was clearly comfortable enough to chow down when he was hungry and not worry about what I thought.<br />
<br />
“Is something wrong?” he asked me. <br />
<br />
“No. Why?”<br />
<br />
“You’re not eating,” he pointed out. Then, suddenly, he bolted from his chair. “Shit, I forgot the wine. I’m sorry,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the living room again. Apparently wine was one of the weekend provisions he’d brought with him.<br />
<br />
“That’s fine, we don’t need it,” I hollered after him, but he was already back and fishing glasses out of the cabinet by the time I was done.<br />
<br />
“Of course we do. A dinner this good deserves a nice glass of wine to go with it,” he insisted.<br />
<br />
I shrugged and decided maybe a couple of drinks would be a good idea before I faced the more questionable contents of Edward’s backpack. I thanked him as he set two generous glassfuls on the table and settled back in his chair.<br />
<br />
“By the way, where did that nice tablecloth go?” he teased, referring to the bare wood tabletop.<br />
<br />
“I thought that perhaps it would be in poor taste to eat dinner off of it after we just had sex on it.”<br />
<br />
He crooked his half-grin at me and said, “I would have had absolutely no problem with that.”<br />
<br />
“Why am I not surprised?”<br />
<br />
“Because you know me well,” he smiled. It was that secret sort of smile only a lover can give. The kind that causes all sorts of tingles and flutters to invade various parts of my body. <br />
<br />
It was also the kind that suddenly made me ask myself, how well <i>do</i> I know him? My split second of uncertainty at the answer brought on flutters of an entirely different nature.<br />
<br />
He didn’t seem to notice my uneasy pause. “Let’s make a toast to that,” he suggested, raising his wine glass.<br />
<br />
“To what, exactly?” I asked, lifting my glass to his.<br />
<br />
“To knowing each other even better,” he said. His eyes seemed to be searching mine for something. Or maybe offering me something instead. <br />
<br />
“To knowing each other completely.” I gave him a pointed look as I clinked my glass against his.<br />
<br />
He hesitated briefly before echoing me. “Completely.” <br />
<br />
We continued to stare at each other as we sipped and swallowed to seal the deal. <br />
<br />
“So, what are you doing for Labor Day?” he asked in an offhand manner, as if changing the subject wasn’t a relief for him.<br />
<br />
I had to stop and think. “A week from Monday, right? Well, I guess I’ll still be recovering from the music festival on Saturday,” I said with a laugh. I was actually looking forward to my first real find for Java Noise headlining a big local show. I could feel that Vegan Vamps were on the verge of a breakthrough beyond the local scene, and a lot was riding on their performance next Saturday night.<br />
<br />
“Right,” Edward said in acknowledgement. “So, how would you feel about recovering with me at my parents’ house that day?” he asked hesitantly.<br />
<br />
“You mom and dad want us to come over?” My heart leapt a little at the prospect. Surely Edward wanting me to spend more time with his family was a good sign. And the fact that they liked me enough to invite me into their home had to be a good sign, too.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, you know my mom. Any occasion to throw a little party and she’s all over it like white on rice,” he said with a fond chuckle. “She wants all of us kids to bring our significant others over for a barbecue or something. It’s kind of a send-off for Alice before she goes to grad school. What do you think?”<br />
<br />
I could feel my face practically beaming. “I think that sounds great. I’d love to come. I’m going to miss Alice, though,” I added. <br />
<br />
“I will, too” he said wistfully. “Except when she’s being a colossal pain in my ass,” he amended with a grin. His smile faded a little and he gave me a concerned look. “Rosalie’s invited, too. I hope that won’t be too awkward.”<br />
<br />
I bristled slightly and took a couple sips of wine. “I guess I’ll have to wait and see how this week goes at work before I get too worried about it. I’m still blown away at what she did. What does Emmett think about the stunt she pulled?” I wondered suddenly.<br />
<br />
Edward frowned. “I haven’t spoken to him yet. I’m curious to know if she even told him. Surely she did. She’d have to know that if she didn’t, I would.” <br />
<br />
“Well, if she’s not honest with him at this stage in their relationship, there’s not much hope for their future together,” I commented. “I mean, she can’t keep something that big from him and think she’ll get away with it.”<br />
<br />
Edward’s frown deepened, and his eyes grew distant as he stabbed at his food with his fork.<br />
<br />
<i>What are you hiding from me?</i> I wondered. <i>How bad could it be? Don’t you know that I’ll love you no matter what?</i><br />
<br />
I could feel the words on the edge of my tongue, waiting to be spoken. But as he continued to avoid my gaze by concentrating intently on his meal, I knew I couldn’t utter them. I didn’t want to push. Fate would eventually force his hand, just as it had mine when I’d nearly killed Lucky and could no longer keep my past trauma inside. All I could do now was be there for him when he reached the tipping point.<br />
<br />
“You’re Emmett’s brother,” I continued. “She has to know that you two will talk. I’d love to hear her explanation to him for why she railroaded you the way she did.”<br />
<br />
Edward finally raised guarded eyes to mine. “I think I’m just going to drop a couple of hints the next time I see him, to find out how much he knows. Hopefully Rosalie came clean on her own. I don’t think I should be the one to do it for her.”<br />
<br />
I decided it was time to steer the conversation away from this sore subject. “Well, regardless of what’s going on with her, I’m looking forward to spending some time with your family. I like your mom and dad. I want to get to know them better.”<br />
<br />
Edward finally smiled at that. “I’m sure the feeling is mutual. Brace yourself for the inquisition.”<br />
<br />
I only laughed. “You have the weirdest view of your parents. They’ve been nothing but nice to me so far.”<br />
<br />
“And I’m sure they’ll continue being perfectly polite while they grill you about your long-term life goals, and how many kids you’d like to have one day,” he warned with a grin.<br />
<br />
“Well, that’s easy: work my way up to being President of Java Noise, then have two-point-five kids.”<br />
<br />
“I’m glad you have it all figured out,” Edward said with an impressed-looking raise of his eyebrows. “Let’s nix the half-a-child idea, though, okay? We don’t need that kind of challenge.”<br />
<br />
<i>We.</i> He was talking about a long-term future in terms of “we.” First came his teasing about marriage, and now children? We’d been dating a mere week. But as Edward and I exchanged that secret smile again, I couldn’t imagine wanting those things with anyone else.<br />
<br />
We kept the conversation light during the rest of dinner. Edward asked if it was okay to bring the gang to the Seattle Music Fest next weekend if they promised not to bug me while I was working. I assured him that there wasn’t a lot for me to do except make sure that everything was running smoothly between Vegan Vamps and the event promoters. Rosalie and I would see to it that the band got their allotted sound check time and were able to set up properly for the show. We would be there for trouble-shooting more than anything else. The band’s management would take care of a lot of the hands-on work.<br />
<br />
By the time I was done explaining our duties and describing how excited I was to see my first pet project headline a festival, Edward had cleaned his plate. He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, grinning and staring me down with those penetrating eyes of his.<br />
<br />
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I finally demanded as I finished up my own dinner.<br />
<br />
“I love how excited you get when you talk about your work,” he smiled. “You have such passion for what you do. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”<br />
<br />
I gave him an embarrassed smile back. “That’s one of my favorite things about you too, you know. You care about what you do, and it shows. I’m living proof.”<br />
<br />
For a brief moment, he looked as if he was going to argue with me about it. But then he said simply, “Thanks.”<br />
<br />
I began cleaning up the dishes and Edward was quick to help me carry them to the sink. He offered to help me wash them, but I suggested we leave them for later. I didn’t want to do chores. I wanted to drink more wine and find out what he was planning for this mysterious “dessert” of his, which apparently involved one or both of us being used as the serving dish. I allowed my mind to wander a little further down that decadent road now that supper was finished and night was falling.<br />
<br />
“Thank you for feeding me, by the way. That was delicious,” he declared, wrapping his arm around my waist and leaning down for a peck on the cheek. “It was so good I almost didn’t leave room for dessert.”<br />
<br />
“The operative word being ‘almost,’ right?” I replied with an askance look up at him.<br />
<br />
“I always have room when it comes to my appetite for you,” he replied suggestively as he steered me toward the living room.<br />
<br />
“Hmm. So are you trying to tell me that I’m the last course?”<br />
<br />
“That’s the plan. But I’ll need your complete cooperation in order for it to work,” he said, in that mildly ominous tone he liked to drape in velvet so that it was more agreeable.<br />
<br />
“You mean, my submission?” I clarified. We were nearing the couch now, where Edward’s belongings lay.<br />
<br />
His lips twitched as he fought the smirk. “Only for a little while. And then I’ll give you mine.”<br />
<br />
I bit my lip, unable to quell my rising apprehension. Or was it excitement? The blood was pulsing between my legs as I sat down on the sofa, next to the backpack. Edward sat on the other side. We looked at the innocent black nylon bag, then at each other.<br />
<br />
“Okay, let’s see what we have here,” I said, trying to keep my voice nonchalant. I unzipped the backpack and looked down at what appeared to be nothing but a couple changes of clothing. I reached in and pulled out jeans, t-shirts and briefs, uncovering two zipped bags at the bottom of the backpack. Inspection of the first revealed that it contained the usual mundane toiletries. My heart began to thud erratically as I pulled out the second bag and slowly opened it.<br />
<br />
A glint of shiny silver was the first thing I saw as I drew back the zipper. The round, connected circles of metal that met my eyes were quickly identifiable as handcuffs. My heart picked up its pace as the reality of what was about to happen began to set in.<br />
<br />
I gingerly pulled them out and dangled them between us while Edward warily studied my face, waiting for my reaction.<br />
<br />
“Handcuffs,” I managed to comment, trying to sound blasé. “You really own a pair of handcuffs?”<br />
<br />
“Two pair, actually,” he replied smoothly, glancing at the bag. “One for each hand. They should work well with your headboard.”<br />
<br />
My heart was racing now, as were my thoughts. I peered down into the bag and sure enough, the second pair was right there on top. I removed them from the bag and set them with their mate on top of the coffee table. I took a deep breath and looked to see what else he had in store for me.<br />
<br />
Something encased in a zip-lock bag was next. I grasped the bag in slightly trembling fingers and pulled it out into the light where I could see the contents. <br />
<br />
I was greeted with the sight of a pale pink vibrator. It consisted of a smooth, slender wand attached to a handle with a multi-speed switch on it. I stared at it a moment, immediately wondering what he planned to do with it. Its girth was nowhere near that of his own penis, which made me suspect he was not interested in stimulating my vagina with it.<br />
<br />
I raised a knowing eyebrow at him, but his face remained a mask of anxious expectation. He was waiting for me to finish.<br />
<br />
There were only two more items in the bag. The first answered my question about the vibrator, because it was a tube of personal lubricant. The second made me laugh out loud. <br />
<br />
“Hershey’s chocolate syrup?” I exclaimed. It was so ordinary, so harmless-looking compared to the other sex props that I couldn’t help but erupt in nervous laughter. Suddenly the picture of what he wanted to do became perfectly clear. <br />
<br />
“It reminds me of your eyes,” he said with a cautious smile. <br />
<br />
“My eyes?” I said with a humorous snort. But when I looked up at Edward, I could see he was serious.<br />
<br />
“I think it will look good on you,” he said softly, seductively. “And taste even better.”<br />
<br />
My heart picked up its pace again as I began to anticipate Edward’s fantasy come to life. I looked for a way to relieve some of my anxiety, so I reverted back to false bravado.<br />
<br />
“So this is it?” I asked him, waving the empty bag in the air before setting it on the coffee table with the other toys. “I’d say you showed remarkable restraint. There are no whips or gags, no cock rings or butt plugs here,” I said cavalierly. I’d never even seen any of those things in person, let alone used them. But the second or two of shock on Edward’s face was worth the outrageous comment.<br />
<br />
He composed himself quickly. “I left those at home this time,” he joked, although I wasn’t absolutely certain he was kidding. I decided to voice my suspicions.<br />
<br />
“I’m surprised you forgot the plugs, considering what a butt fetish you have.”<br />
<br />
His eyes narrowed at me. I wondered if he would deny it, but I knew it was true.<br />
<br />
“I have a Bella fetish,” he replied diplomatically. “I love all your parts equally.”<br />
<br />
“That’s very politically correct of you, Mr. Cullen,” I said. “But I happen to know you are especially enamored of my ass.”<br />
<br />
He took a breath and tried to stifle his grin. “It’s a very sweet ass. I won’t deny it.”<br />
<br />
I decided to be candid, since we were about to embark on a journey into new territory and I really had nothing--or maybe everything--to lose. <br />
<br />
“So why didn’t you try it earlier? In the kitchen,” I questioned.<br />
<br />
“Try what?” he replied obtusely. He wanted me to say it out loud.<br />
<br />
I decided to skip being vulgar and put it in clinical terms. “Why didn’t you try to have anal sex with me? I know you want to.” <br />
<br />
His gentle smile was almost patronizing. “Because I would have hurt you, and you never would have let me near your ass again.”<br />
<br />
I thought back to the pornos that Mike had made me watch. It had always looked so easy; not really painful. Edward obviously caught my quizzical expression because he continued to explain.<br />
<br />
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but there’s a very big difference between the size of my finger and the size of my dick,” he said, as if I were a simpleton. My irritation rose, just like it had the first day in his office when he had spoken to me that way.<br />
<br />
“So you don’t think my ass can handle it?” I said crossly.<br />
<br />
He let out a short laugh. “I know your ass can’t handle it. Yet,” he said. Then his tone grew more serious. “But I’d like to work up to it, if you’re willing. If you want to.”<br />
<br />
I looked over at the pink vibrator again and understood his logic. Its size appeared to split the difference between what I was used to and what he hoped I’d get used to. I realized I was as curious as I was nervous about that particular sexual frontier. I knew that I would end up trusting him as I always had, and that most likely I wouldn’t be sorry.<br />
<br />
He reached out and took my face in his hand, stroking my jaw with his thumb. “If you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to. Just tell me and we’ll stop. You know that, right?”<br />
<br />
“Of course I know that,” I assured him. “I want to be open-minded. I want to make you happy.”<br />
<br />
He scowled and his eyes flashed with anger. “No. Don’t do anything just to make me happy. Whatever you decide, do it to make yourself happy. That’s all I want. I want you to feel amazing, and get off on whatever we try. Otherwise, forget it.”<br />
<br />
I tried to explain myself better. “But Edward, a relationship is about compromise. I like doing things to make you happy, just like you do for me. I feel safe with you and I want to try new things with you. I want you to get off just as much as you want me to. I won’t know if I like something until I try it.”<br />
<br />
His hand continued to stroke my face; his eyes did the equivalent with their gaze.<br />
<br />
“You have to tell me immediately if you want me to stop,” he ordered.<br />
<br />
“I will,” I promised earnestly. And then, a little less so: “Bossy.”<br />
<br />
His eyes took on a wicked gleam. “Name-calling is grounds for the handcuffs, you know.”<br />
<br />
“Am I in trouble?” I murmured, sensing a new game beginning. “Are you going to arrest me?”<br />
<br />
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice dropping, becoming huskier. “But I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to detain you for awhile.”<br />
<br />
“I won’t answer any questions without my lawyer present,” I declared. “And don’t even think about frisking me. You lay one hand on me and I’ll make you pay.”<br />
<br />
“I look forward to your retaliation, Miss Swan,” he murmured, his face dangerously close, lips nearly touching mine. Then, right as I was about to give in to his kiss, he turned abruptly and scooped all the sex props back into their container. <br />
<br />
I had no time to react as he zipped the bag, tucked it under his arm, then turned and hoisted me over his shoulder. He stood up from the couch and hauled me, caveman-style, to my bedroom while I shrieked in mock protest. He then tossed me unceremoniously on the bed and was on top of me in seconds, ensconcing himself between my legs.<br />
<br />
“It’s no use fighting,” he purred, his lips inches from mine. “I have reason to believe that you’re a thief. I intend to search you thoroughly until I can prove that you’ve stolen something of mine.”<br />
<br />
“And what’s that?” I retorted, wrapping my arms and legs around him rather than struggling.<br />
<br />
“My heart,” he said with a cheesy grin.<br />
<br />
I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Does that line actually work on anyone?”<br />
<br />
“You’ll have to let me know,” he replied, still grinning. And then, suddenly, his mouth captured mine, and all laughter stopped. His tongue was probing and insatiable--searching, just as he had promised. <br />
<br />
We gasped for air when he finally broke away. “You do have my heart,” he said, not joking this time. “And my soul, my body, even my thoughts . . . They’re all about you.” He kissed me again, still hungry. My kisses in return were just as greedy. I moaned and writhed beneath him, burying my fingers in the thicket of his hair. <br />
<br />
“I’d say it’s an even trade,” I gasped the minute he pried his lips away. “It’s only fair when you own me completely.”<br />
<br />
“Do I?” he asked, his eyes imploring for a moment before his wicked smirk returned. “Then you won’t mind if I strip-search you for evidence.”<br />
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<br />
He began pulling at my clothes then; t-shirt up, shorts down. His hands stroked my bare limbs; lips and tongue and teeth nipped at my neck and chest. I yanked at his clothes too, determined to reveal his bare flesh as quickly as he had mine. He helped me along, throwing our t-shirts in unison to the floor before pushing my camisole toward my shoulders. I raised my arms obediently so that he could draw the fabric over them and toss it atop our shirts.<br />
<br />
His mouth closed over my left breast immediately, knotting the flesh of my nipple thoroughly with his teeth and tongue before capturing the right breast and repeating the motion. My fingers tore into his hair and kneaded his scalp while I rocked beneath him, pushing my body against his. His lips traveled south, tongue leaving a wet trail on his way to the boy shorts.<br />
<br />
“And what might you be hiding in here, Miss Swan?” he asked, pulling at the waistband. “I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice but to perform a body cavity search.”<br />
<br />
Down came the fabric, over my hips, my buttocks, my thighs, my calves, my feet. I lay naked before him while his eyes caressed me from my feet upward, his hands slowly following. Something between a sigh and a moan escaped me when his touch reached my groin.<br />
<br />
“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be gentle,” he murmured as he smoothed his hands over my abdomen. My legs began to open instinctively, welcoming his probing fingers. They stroked me up and down, parting my labia, seeking the slick spot and making it slicker. My hips tilted upward into his touch, pulling his fingers inside; my head fell back as I groaned with pleasure.<br />
<br />
“Of course, maybe gentleness is overrated. Maybe you require a firmer hand.” I moaned again at his words before I even felt the unbearable sensation of his fingers plunging deeper, curling into me, and stroking me with quick, firm motions. I grasped the pillow behind my head and dug my fingers into it as his hand intensified its movements. I was practically sobbing by the time he slowed, kneeling over me to whisper in my ear.<br />
<br />
“I definitely think I’ve left something of mine here before. Deep inside you.” His lips brushed my ear lobe gently; his fingers moved languidly in and out of my body now, drawing a deep gasp from my lungs with each penetration.<br />
<br />
“I don’t want it back,” he continued quietly. “I’d stay inside you forever if I could. You feel like home to me.” He kissed me tenderly on the cheek and I wanted to cry at the emotions swirling through me. I reached up and took his face in mine, pushing him back slightly so that I could look into his eyes. <br />
<br />
“You are home,” I whispered. <br />
<br />
His gaze reflected every emotion back at me before he kissed me hungrily. I reached down and tugged at the closure of his cargo shorts, slipping my hand inside to grasp his erection the minute the zipper came down. I stroked him in time with his fingers inside me, our rhythm growing faster as we panted softly, still lost in each other’s eyes.<br />
<br />
He finally squeezed his shut with a groan and withdrew from me. “Not yet,” he whispered, pulling away from me. I bit my lip to stifle my disappointment as he got off the bed. He let his shorts fall to the floor and pushed his briefs down after them. I loved the sight of his cock springing free, pointing at the object of its lust on the bed before him. <br />
<br />
He moved to the head of the bed and pulled one of my pillows to the middle of the mattress, propping it vertically against the headboard. He gently tugged at the pillow under my head; I lifted myself up so that he could remove it and layer it over the first. My heart began to race because I knew what he was doing. I scooted back toward the cushion he had created for me and reclined against it, half-sitting, half-lying against the slope of pillows. <br />
<br />
It was time for the handcuffs.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-75231378333102151772011-08-28T23:07:00.001-05:002011-08-28T23:10:00.386-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 17 - Test, part 1<b><i>Edward Cullen’s Little Black Notebook</i><br />
Sunday, August 29<br />
</b><br />
<i>Thwap!</i><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
I could only grin in acknowledgement. “I feel kind of unstoppable lately.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“Maybe that’s why she didn’t give up on you,” Katrina suggested. “Maybe she sensed how much you needed her.”<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
My eyes fell sheepishly to my lemonade glass. I stabbed at the ice cubes with my straw in lieu of making a reply.<br />
<br />
“Edward,” Katrina admonished, her disappointment almost outweighed by her disapproval. “Haven’t you told her anything?”<br />
<br />
I finally met her gaze with a guilty one of my own.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
“What you did was try to save Tanya the best way you knew how,” Kate insisted. “You were not responsible for her actions.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“Of course I trust her,” I insisted. “I am going to tell her, when the time is right.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
Kate reached across the table for my hand. I let her give it a reassuring squeeze.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“Don’t start with me again unless you want another ass-whooping on that court. I am prepared to beat you down. No mercy.”<br />
<br />
“You’ve already shown me no mercy. I lost our first set five-to-one. How much worse can it get?”<br />
<br />
“Well, I can always beat you six-all in the next,” I grinned.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“Hey, Mom,” I answered, toweling my hair dry with my free hand.<br />
<br />
“How’s my darling boy today?”<br />
<br />
“Feeling victorious, actually. I just annihilated Katrina ten games to two.”<br />
<br />
“That’s not very chivalrous,” she clucked. <br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, we did,” I admitted.<br />
<br />
“Well, I’m glad. It was long overdue. I’m proud of you for trying to get past some of those old resentments.”<br />
<br />
I sighed, not wanting to get into this discussion. My reply was short. “It was time.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
Uneasiness prickled down my back. “Who else did you invite?”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“You mean interrogate them under the guise of harmless party chatter?” I teased.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
No wonder I hated going home.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“I just got out of the shower, actually,” she informed me. “Who knew yoga and house-cleaning could work up such a sweat?”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“Shall we put that to the test? I can think of a few positions we haven’t tried yet.” <br />
<br />
“You and your one-track mind,” she replied in exasperation. “One morning without sex and it’s the first thing you bring up.”<br />
<br />
“You’re the one who brought it <i>up</i>, if you catch my drift.”<br />
<br />
“It’s hard to miss,” she replied dryly. “So how did your tennis match with Kate go? Did you win?”<br />
<br />
“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.” <br />
<br />
“Oh brother,” she groaned. “So now you’re trying to butter me up? Subtle.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“Edward, please stop talking about sex. It’s the middle of the afternoon.”<br />
<br />
“And this is a problem why, exactly?”<br />
<br />
Her answering sigh sounded annoyed.<br />
<br />
“Well? I’m waiting.”<br />
<br />
“I’m thinking!” she replied with a frustrated laugh.<br />
<br />
“Exactly. There is no good reason not to have sex in the middle of the afternoon. I can see what I’m doing better.”<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“Do you know what I’m thinking about right now?” The words came out low and throaty. <br />
<br />
“I can guess,” she answered. Her voice was lower, quieter, too. I wondered exactly what kinds of images were flashing through her mind.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
The sound of her voice was making me crazy. Whisper-light, tense with want.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
She was quiet a moment. “Okay,” she said at last.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NYdZNvY44MY/TlsQXdWrr7I/AAAAAAAABPY/yysezeaECaU/s1600/RobertPattinsonScreencaps13%2Bcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NYdZNvY44MY/TlsQXdWrr7I/AAAAAAAABPY/yysezeaECaU/s200/RobertPattinsonScreencaps13%2Bcrop.jpg" width="200" /></a>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.<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q-L5MGzUdS4/TlsQgvIzxXI/AAAAAAAABPg/HPcP-qa-Nt4/s1600/RobertPattinsonScreencaps16%2Bcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q-L5MGzUdS4/TlsQgvIzxXI/AAAAAAAABPg/HPcP-qa-Nt4/s200/RobertPattinsonScreencaps16%2Bcrop.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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.<br />
<br />
“Do you welcome all intruders into your home this way?” I murmured between kisses.<br />
<br />
“Only the really handsome, sexy ones,” she replied with a grin, her play-façade beginning to crack.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know whether to be flattered that you find me sexy…” <i>kiss…</i> “or appalled at your carelessness.” <i>Kiss, kiss.</i> “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.<br />
<br />
“And how will you do that?” she whispered, her breath catching as I kneaded her flesh between my fingers.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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?” <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
Her breath had quickened with every word, every invasion of my fingers; then sucked in sharply at my question.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“Why didn’t you? I was away for hours.”<br />
<br />
She swallowed and looked over her shoulder, piercing my fevered gaze with a hard stare. The motion of my hand inside her stopped cold. <br />
<br />
“Because I know what it feels like to have someone violate your privacy,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I swallowed back my emotion and kissed her gently on the cheek before whispering my pledge.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
I didn’t know the answer. The only thing I knew for sure was that my own test was just beginning. <br />
<br />
<br />
Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-84365704454972283872011-08-17T19:11:00.001-05:002011-08-17T19:18:34.858-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 16 - Confession, part 2<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Saturday, August 28 (cont’d.)</b><br />
<br />
<i>Kisses along my neck.<br />
<br />
Warm, soft. I am dreaming of his lips again.<br />
<br />
They part…tongue leaving wet heat behind, only to be cooled by his breath as he works his way down to my shoulder.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“Ready for me so soon….” More velvet, whispering in my ear this time. “You must be feeling better this morning.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
And I love it. I want it. I crave and need it. I need him.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
He slows. Plants soft kisses near my ear again. He’s going to speak; perhaps apologize. <br />
<br />
I don’t want words. At least not those words.<br />
<br />
“Don’t stop,” I order him. It sounds more like begging. My need has outweighed my want.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
We pass the familiar threshold now; the point where love-making becomes fucking. Where animal instincts and appetites overwhelm all other considerations.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
And then, he shifts, pulling out, lifting himself from me. It’s so sudden that I cry out in dismay.<br />
<br />
“No!”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
His eyes beg me to give in; to unleash my most powerful abandon all around him.<br />
<br />
With a shuddering cry, I submit.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I wish I could do the same. Leave something of me with him; a reminder of what we’ve shared.<br />
<br />
But when I see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at me, I realize I already have.<br />
</i><br />
“Bella--I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I hesitated, then nodded my consent. <br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
My eyes bugged in disbelief. I was too flabbergasted to speak for a moment. When I did find my voice, I was practically sputtering.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
My jaw nearly hit the desk after that remark. What the hell was she talking about?<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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?”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
I could feel the beginnings of an impasse form. “Are you going to tell Jasper that?”<br />
<br />
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.” <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“You can trust Edward,” I said through slightly gritted teeth. “I’m not sure why you’d think otherwise.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
8:55 a.m. <i>How did it go with Rosalie? Have you seen her yet?</i><br />
<br />
9:57 a.m. <i>I haven’t heard from you. Hope everything’s okay.</i><br />
<br />
10:56 a.m. <i>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.<br />
</i><br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i>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<br />
</i><br />
I had only eaten a couple more bites of falafel before my phone buzzed in reply.<br />
<br />
<i>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><br />
<br />
I made an exasperated clucking noise at his warped logic before typing my return message.<br />
<br />
<i>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.<br />
<br />
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?</i><br />
<br />
Why did his crass language always make me hot? It was disturbing. <br />
<br />
<i>Gray pin-striped slacks, blue shirt. Very non-descript. I’m not looking particularly fuckable.<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Oh, that’s not true. I can think of two times already when you’ve asked me not to.<br />
<br />
Yes, but if you had wheedled and begged and cajoled, I would have given in.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Bring it, fucker. *literally* <br />
<br />
GAH. Why do you do this to me at lunch? I’m sitting in a public place with a stiffy now.<br />
<br />
Can you save it for about five or six hours until we see each other?<br />
<br />
Funny. *sarcasm font* I could, but it might be a bit off-putting to my clients.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Oh Christ. Thanks for the visual. My next appointment is with a woman in her seventies. <br />
<br />
You’re welcome. Now your stiffy will be short-lived.<br />
<br />
I’ll let you resurrect it from the grave tonight, after I give you a massage.<br />
</i><br />
I wished he could see the huge smile that spread across my face at his words.<br />
<br />
<i>I’m getting another freebie? *happy dance of joy*<br />
<br />
I want to check you out myself after what happened yesterday. I should have done it last night.<br />
<br />
I’m fine, worrywart. But if you want to feel for yourself, I am more than willing to comply.<br />
<br />
I love it when you surrender to me.</i><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i>I love it when you surrender to me, too.<br />
<br />
I have no problem with that. I have a pair of handcuffs, you know. We can take turns having our way with each other.<br />
</i><br />
Another wave of lust barreled down my spine and seeped through my groin. While I deliberated how to reply, my phone buzzed again.<br />
<br />
<i>Cat got your tongue, Bella?<br />
<br />
No. Just feeling relieved that my genitals are on the inside so no one has to know what I’m thinking.</i><br />
<br />
There, that ought to silence him for a minute.<br />
<br />
Almost a minute, anyway.<br />
<br />
<i>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><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i>Tanya.</i> 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.<br />
<br />
My phone buzzed once more. I hesitated before reading the message.<br />
<br />
<i>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><br />
<br />
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 <i>me</i> like he’d never connected with anyone before.<br />
<br />
The phone vibrated again in my hand. <br />
<br />
<i>Promise me, Bella.</i> <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<i>I promise, Edward. You just got my mind wandering, that’s all. Thinking…wondering.<br />
<br />
What I wouldn’t give to see inside your mind right now.<br />
<br />
That works both ways.<br />
<br />
I’m an open book. Ask me anything.</i><br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
<i>Okay. What are you doing this weekend? I couldn’t handle the intense turn our text conversation had taken anymore.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
She won’t be there this weekend?<br />
<br />
No, she’ll be at Ben’s. You want to spend some time at my place?<br />
<br />
If you’ll have me.<br />
<br />
Of course I’ll have you. But it’s so cramped and shabby chic compared to the loft.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I’m intrigued. …?<br />
<br />
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.<br />
</i><br />
My nether regions burned anew. Damn him, anyway.<br />
<br />
<i>Typical man. Always turning the conversation back to sex.<br />
<br />
;) 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><br />
<br />
I turned my phone around and took a quick snapshot of the smile on my face, then sent it to Edward with the caption, <i>Does this answer your question?</i><br />
<br />
<i>It does that and so much more. Why don’t I pick you up after work? Six-thirty or so?<br />
<br />
Perfect. You are perfect. It would be annoying if I didn’t love you so much.<br />
<br />
I am far from perfect, but your love definitely makes me a better man.</i> <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“Hey beautiful,” he smiled down at me, then leaned in for a kiss. “Did I wake you?”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.” <br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“I love you in blue. You lied to me earlier--you look insanely fuckable.”<br />
<br />
I almost didn’t blush anymore when he said things like that to me. Almost.<br />
<br />
“You have such an elegant way with words, Mr. Cullen,” I sighed up at him.<br />
<br />
His grin was irrepressible. “All the better to seduce you with, Miss Swan.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“I notice you’re still wearing blue,” he commented with a sly sideways glance.<br />
<br />
“I figured it would increase my odds later on.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“Just one,” he answered defensively. “Just enough to take the edge off. I was worried about you all morning, you know.”<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“Well, I’m glad you made it through the afternoon without incident,” he said, obviously referring to my situation with Rosalie.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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?”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
As I looked at Edward’s scowling countenance, I couldn’t help but grin. <br />
<br />
“What?” he demanded crossly as my smile grew.<br />
<br />
“You’re cute when you’re jealous. A little scary, but cute.”<br />
<br />
He gave me a sour smile. “I’m glad I amuse you.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
I took a quick look around the diner. Not one single person was paying a lick of attention to either of us. <br />
<br />
“Yep, you’re right,” I intoned gravely. “I might have to go outside and get a stick to beat off all this unwanted attention.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
That wicked slow grin of his nearly did me in. “Why don’t you try me sometime this weekend and find out?”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“You would not,” I whispered as I caught sight of our waiter and his serving tray out of the corner of my eye. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“Saved by the bell,” Edward smirked as the waiter retreated.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“’Let you?‘ More like, beg you. Nice visual, by the way,” Edward commented as I squirted the catsup onto my plate in rhythmic spurts. <br />
<br />
“You are really too perverted to live.”<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“You really make it way too much fun to tease you, Bella,” he said with an unrepentant chuckle.<br />
<br />
“I don’t know why I let you get away with it,” I grumbled. “You’re too charming for your own good.” <i>Too smooth for his own good….</i> Rosalie’s words replayed in my head, making me frown.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
“I know. Forget it. It’s just been a long day, that’s all.”<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. <br />
<br />
“It’s not your fault,” I insisted. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“Let’s talk about you,” I suggested to Edward, putting on a bright smile. “How was your day, dear?”<br />
<br />
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.“<br />
<br />
I made a harrumphing noise. “I can guess what they were there for.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“That you know of, “ I joked, though I wasn’t sure how off the mark it was.<br />
<br />
“Well, the seventy-year-old was eying me funny, but I think that was just her cataracts acting up.”<br />
<br />
“Along with her libido,” I snorted.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
He shrugged noncommittally. “One or two. But not so much that I ever seriously considered crossing the line, until you.”<br />
<br />
“Huh. Really?” I asked skeptically.<br />
<br />
“Scout’s honor.” <br />
<br />
I puzzled over that tidbit but couldn’t make sense of it. “How is that possible?”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
I fought the lump that formed in my throat, but I couldn’t stop the film of tears that bathed my eyes. <br />
<br />
“I didn’t know you were broken,” I managed to say.<br />
<br />
His eyes were pained as he shook his head in disagreement. “Yes, you did.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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? <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“I can’t believe you brought that with you,” I said as he worked the gel between his gorgeous hands.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his velvet voice ragged with want. “Turn over for me, Bella.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
He was right. I did always get it backwards. I loved it when I surrendered to him. To myself. To us.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I ended my day with Edward exactly as it began, and everything in between faded away. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>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!<br />
</i>Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-21331354661037990242011-08-09T20:28:00.005-05:002011-08-09T21:36:58.565-05:00Massage Therapy ~ chapter 16, part 2 teaserApparently Bella's mind is as poetic as her body is wanton in the early morning hours....<br />
<br />
<i>Kisses along my neck.<br />
<br />
Warm, soft. I am dreaming of his lips again.<br />
<br />
They part…tongue leaving wet heat behind, only to be cooled by his breath as he works his way down to my shoulder.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“Ready for me so soon….” More velvet, whispering in my ear this time. “You must be feeling better this morning.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
And I love it. I want it. I crave and need it. I need him.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
He slows. Plants soft kisses near my ear again. He’s going to speak; perhaps apologize. <br />
<br />
I don’t want words. At least not those words.<br />
<br />
“Don’t stop,” I order him. It sounds more like begging. My need has outweighed my want.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
We pass the familiar threshold now; the point where love-making becomes fucking. Where animal instincts and appetites overwhelm all other considerations.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
And then, he shifts, pulling out, lifting himself from me. It’s so sudden that I cry out in dismay.<br />
<br />
“No!”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B81qXg17UvU/TkHgHwbi0lI/AAAAAAAABOY/EE8rXYdGF04/s1600/bedcrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="353" width="282" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B81qXg17UvU/TkHgHwbi0lI/AAAAAAAABOY/EE8rXYdGF04/s400/bedcrop.jpg" /></a></div>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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
His eyes beg me to give in; to unleash my most powerful abandon all around him.<br />
<br />
With a shuddering cry, I submit.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I wish I could do the same. Leave something of me with him; a reminder of what we’ve shared.<br />
<br />
But when I see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at me, I realize I already have.<br />
<br />
</i>Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8772315208747566772.post-34237354358356120882011-08-04T23:48:00.000-05:002011-08-04T23:48:33.778-05:00Massage Therapy, Chapter 16 - Confession, part 1<b><i>From the Desktop of Bella Swan</i><br />
Saturday, August 26<br />
</b><br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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….<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.” <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
Edward looked ill. His eyes were wet at the corners. I was cried out now; bone dry, weary and matter-of-fact. <br />
<br />
“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.” <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Edward’s own fingers made their way out of my hair to cup my face, lifting it gently so that my eyes would follow. <br />
<br />
“The traffic lights were broken, Bella,” he reminded me softly. His eyes said all the other things his lips did not. <i>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.</i> 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.<br />
<br />
“I know they were broken,” I replied. “It doesn’t change anything.”<br />
<br />
Edward’s eyes closed for a moment, forcing one tear to make its escape down his cheek. “I know,” was all he said. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.” <br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
Edward’s hands tightened their grip on mine. “You know your mother wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself,” he said softly.<br />
<br />
“Of course I know that. But it’s always been easier said than done.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“Bella,” Edward chastised me gently. “Don’t.”<br />
<br />
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.” <br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
I gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded in acknowledgement. “You know what would really make her happy, though?”<br />
<br />
“What’s that?”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
I watched as Edward’s features twisted with emotion, his eyes brimming with tears. I could see his struggle to keep them from falling.<br />
<br />
“You give me too much credit,” he muttered hoarsely.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
His clouded eyes cleared as he figured out my meaning. “The dress?” he asked, giving me a subdued version of his patented crooked grin.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
His expression hovered somewhere between exasperated and pleased. “You always look beautiful to me.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“Yes, but you like it when I make you crazy,” I said, throwing one of his chief arguments back at him.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
I nodded and pressed my nose to his. “If you play your cards right, I might even let you kiss me.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“It’s not his fault I’m so jumpy,” I said, stroking Lucky’s soft fur. <br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
That piqued my curiosity. “What’s that?”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“That’s the sound I would make right now, if I could,” I told Edward. <br />
<br />
He shot me a devilish grin. “I can make your pussy purr right now, if you’d like. I’ve done it before.”<br />
<br />
“And I can make your cock crow,” I shot back. “What’s your point?”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
I chuckled along with him for a moment. “I know I’m happy,” I told him.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“Edward, what did Rosalie say to you earlier? How did she get you to come see her without telling me about it?”<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
I looked up into his understanding eyes and knew without question that I was the luckiest girl on earth. <br />
<br />
“Have I told you today that I love you, Edward?”<br />
<br />
“Yes. But you can tell me again.”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Still, just to be sure we were on the same page, I demurely whispered a request to Edward as he began to undress me. <br />
<br />
“Can you just hold me tonight?”<br />
<br />
His half-grin was reassuring. “Of course,” was all he said.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.”<br />
<br />
I ran my hand reassuringly up and down his shoulder. “Did that scare you?”<br />
<br />
His chest swelled with oxygen beneath me; its release stirred my hair. “Yes.”<br />
<br />
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?” <br />
<br />
He was quiet for a moment, but his heart had quickened. “A little,” he admitted.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“Don’t be afraid,” I told him. “It’s not so bad, letting go. Not when you have someone to catch you.”<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Encircled in his arms, I slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.Gemgirl65http://www.blogger.com/profile/06230877626604045722noreply@blogger.com2