The first rays of dawn filtered in through the blinds of Edward’s bedroom windows, painting the bed in bars of dusky gold. The comforter’s classic brocade weave glinted in shades of deep burgundy, the color of a fine wine - his favorite. Bella’s arms tightened around his warm body in the tangle of ivory sheets beneath their crimson cover. She breathed in the scent of his skin and the bedding he slept in, holding it in her lungs a moment before exhaling. How on earth could she go back to her empty matchstick dorm bed after this?
She’d think about that tomorrow. She was Scarlet O’Hara now, living in the moment, enjoying the here and now. She memorized the way the beams of light played over Edward’s features, augmenting the long, feathered shadows his eyelashes cast over his cheeks. She wished she could capture the image on her camera phone, but it was hanging in her backpack near the kitchen door. Better yet, she imagined how beautiful a pencil or charcoal rendering of him would be, though she was sure her own meager talents could never do him justice.
So she drank in the softly snoring work of art next to her on the pillow, absorbing each nuance, wondering if she would ever be saturated, ever have enough.
She already knew the answer. She could never get enough of him. She knew it the minute he pulled out of her last night and spilled his seed all over her, apologizing for the mess afterward, not understanding how much she loved it. How could he still think she wanted only his perfection? How was it that he didn’t realize she loved every self-imagined flaw about him?
But no, he insisted they shower afterward. Clean up the mess; wash off every drop of sperm and sweat and saliva, every grain of sand and sea salt that evidenced the gritty beauty of their day together. They brushed away their garlic breath and gave each other fresh kisses before falling into a soap-scented sleep. She wondered what happened to the guy who had insisted on kissing her despite their morning breath just two short weeks ago. She pressed her face into his shoulder until she could glean his scent through that of the dissipating shower gel, and there she found her happiness.
She luxuriated in it now. The drowsy remnants of slumber still held her captive in Edward’s arms. She could find no will to move, unless it was to draw closer to him. They had both awakened often during the night, smiling at the sight of one another, relishing the feel of each other’s warmth before falling into blissful unconsciousness again.
Bella thought she might drift off again were it not for the enticing picture he painted in the morning light. She didn’t want to close her eyes again and miss a moment of his breathing. She could feel each puff of air lightly on her face, each rise of his chest against her arm. This was heaven, pure and simple. She could think of nothing better than this, except for the way he made love to her. There were no words to describe the place he took her - the person he made her. She was different with him in the way she’d always dreamed of: confident, open, free.
She thought maybe she did the same for him. She hoped so, anyway.
He had not moved for ten minutes, at least. He seemed to be in a deep sleep despite the sun’s increasingly bold attempts at waking him. Bella finally tore her eyes from his face and began to look around the room, its details slowly making themselves known in the muted dawn. Aside from the sturdy, well-oiled furniture, there were paintings adorning the walls and photographs atop the dresser. The artwork resembled the tiny “bookmark” that Edward had yet to reclaim from her dorm room, and she assumed the water-color renderings of the Sound and surrounding landscapes were the work of his late mother. She could discern Elizabeth’s likeness in the photographs, too, along with the two Edwards in her life. Bella was itching to go take a closer look at those snippets of Edward’s past.
Gingerly, ever-so-carefully, she inched away from him under the covers. He grumbled a little and reached out in his sleep, grabbing the comforter and pulling it closer when she eluded his grasp. Her heart swelled at the gesture. She was amazed at the ache she felt as she slid out of the warm spot into the cool sheets at the edge of the bed. The hardwood floor was cold under her bare feet when they touched down.
She looked around for something to wear, but her clothes were still strewn with Edward’s all over the bedroom floor. She noticed his t-shirt had landed on the only chair in the room, so she grabbed it, shaking it out slightly before pulling it over her head. Yesterday’s beachy, musky scent still clung to it, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, pulling the soft cotton close to her body.
She padded quietly around the room, studying the landscape paintings first. Sure enough, each sported the familiar “E. Masen” signature in the lower right-hand corner. His mother had quite a talent, capturing her subject matter in dreamy washes of color with a few spare details added later in dry brush for definition. Bella had always had trouble using water color paints, and she admired the technique she saw before her.
She ended her jaunt at the dresser, gazing at Edward’s photos one by one. There were several of him as a child with his parents. She grinned in recognition at the tow-headed boy with bright blue eyes and a mischievous smirk reminiscent of the one he often gave her now.
And then there were the adolescent years, the photos portraying a gangly teen with over-large features and haunted eyes - the eyes of someone who had lost too much, too soon. But more recent pictures showed a younger version of the man she knew now: serious but confident, seated purposefully at an enormous upright piano in the now-empty corner of the living room downstairs.
Alice was in some of the pictures, ebullient and spiky-haired, the free-wheeling counterpoint to her cousin’s natural containment. Edward’s grin was broader when he stood next to her, as if the gravity of her own huge smile had pulled his wider.
But the photos that fascinated Bella the most were the ones of the two of them with their grandmother.
Bella wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the tiny woman anchoring dainty Alice and lanky Edward in every picture. Emily Cullen couldn’t have been much more than five feet tall, yet she still appeared to be the pillar of strength between her giddy granddaughter and melancholic grandson. Stalwart and robust, she was a compact, golden-haired powerhouse with a sturdy frame and no-nonsense expression. She had the sympathetic, yet slightly steely look of someone who had weathered many a storm. There was fierce pride in her face as she clutched her grandchildren to her. Emily was clearly the glue that held the remnants of her family together in a tight, protective bond.
Bella suddenly had a much better grasp of how overwhelming it must have been when that glue began to dissolve.
She turned to look at Edward once more; to study his handsome features furrowed in sleep. She let out a gasp of surprise when she found him propped up on a pillow against the headboard, watching her.
“You’re awake,” she blurted, her cheeks coloring like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“The bed was cold,” he said, his honey tone masking the mild accusation.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sure why she was apologizing. Her feet began carrying her back to his side without any conscious decision on her part. She crawled atop the covers and into his waiting arms.
“I hope you don’t mind my snooping,” she said, still feeling a bit like a naughty child.
“Why would I mind?” he said, putting her worries to rest. He laid a gentle hand on her hair. “I brought you here because I wanted to show you everything.”
She gave him a relieved smile. “I like looking at pictures of you and your family. Your grandmother looks like an amazing woman. You can see the strength and determination in her face. And the love. It’s easy to see how much she loves you.”
Bella looked into Edward’s sleepy gaze and wondered if he could see the same thing in her own eyes.
He smiled, and his eyes crinkled at her in that way that made her think he saw everything.
“The feeling’s mutual,” he told her, and she knew she was right.
He combed his fingers languidly through her hair, then frowned a little. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I slept great,” she said, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I think you’ve ruined me for my dorm bed forever.”
“I like having you in my bed.” He wanted to add a promise to make sure she was in it more often, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he figured out a way to make it come true.
“Did you have fun yesterday?” he continued, not sure why he was asking, or why he felt uncertain about the answer. He hadn’t felt the need for anyone’s approval this much in a long time.
“Are you kidding? Yesterday was amazing. So was last night.” She felt her face grow warm at the memories.
His answering smile was just as warm and full of intimate secrets. “It was, wasn’t it? Perfect,” he whispered. His arm tightened around her, hand squeezing her shoulder. “But we can’t do that again.”
Her eyes widened in panic. “Do what?” She was terrified he would tell her she’d just experienced their first, and last, date off the Renaissance Escorts clock.
“Have unprotected sex,” he clarified. “There are too many risks.” He didn’t want to name them all. Surely he didn’t have to.
Bella sighed in relief. “I know. I get it. But I promise you, I’m not going to get pregnant. I’ll text you when my period starts tomorrow, if you want.”
“It’s not just that,” he reminded her. “I get tested all the time, and I’m always careful - except when I’m with you. You make me careless. You make me forget everything. Everything except this. Here. Now.”
His eyes were wistful, fingers longing as they combed through in the silky hair above her ear. She reached up and closed her hand around his.
“That’s because now is all we have. I never know when the next time will be.”
He nodded wearily, wanting to give her more. And then, his expression changed as inspiration struck.
“As I recall, you have a very big birthday coming up,” he remembered. “Do you have any special plans for that day?”
Bella’s face brightened as he hoped it would. “No. I told Charlie I’d go home to visit next weekend, but my birthday is the Tuesday after. Not a big party night.”
“Would you like to spend it with me?”
She rolled her eyes at his formality. “I’d love to spend it with you. Why would you even ask?”
“Because you might have plans with your friends, for all I know. Or that ex-boyfriend of yours - Mike? Is that his name? He looked like he’d be happy to give you a good birthday spanking.”
Bella’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh, please. Don’t even go there. Mike and I are just friends. Trust me, there will be no spankings of any kind going on with him.” She shuddered slightly at the thought.
Edward caught her grimace and zeroed in for the kill. “So, do you have a problem with spankings in general, or just from Mike? Because you’re not going to get off that easy if you spend your birthday with me.”
Bella’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare even think about it.”
Edward’s grin turned mischievous. “Too late. I’ve already thought about it. Fantasized about it, many times. I am a full-service birthday specialist. Cake, candles, bad singing, toasts to the birthday girl, bare-ass spankings, and a pinch to grow an inch. If you say ‘yes’ to my date offer, then you’d better prepare yourself.”
They stared each other down for a moment. Bella was amazed at how shamefully hot she found the idea of Edward turning her over his knee. Edward was not at all amazed that Junior was twitching at the prospect.
Her right eyebrow arched infinitesimally before she gave him her answer.
“Yes.”
His grin was positively wicked now, and Bella’s heart began to race in anticipation. Sure enough, seconds later he’d managed to wrestle her face down over his lap, with the suggestion, “How about a sneak preview?”
She squealed and struggled against him to no avail, which only made her t-shirt ride up and expose her backside to his waiting hand. She felt his fingers close over her left cheek, giving it a squeeze.
“What a nice, round target you have,” he commented, smoothing one hand over the curve of her ass while the other pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her torso to the bed covers over his thighs. She craned her neck to glare up at him, pushing half-heartedly against the bed with her arms.
“Resistance is futile,” he continued with a maddening smirk, stroking her bare buttocks in soothing circles. “Besides, I have the feeling you’re going to like it.”
She had no time for rebuttal. She heard the smack of his palm a split-second before the sting shot through her skin and traveled deep into her flesh. She manage to emit a single yelp of protest before she felt the broad side of his hand once more, reverberating straight to her genitals in astonishing tingles of desire.
“Stop!” she shrieked, not knowing why, because she didn’t necessarily want him to do any such thing. He ignored her anyway, chuckling maniacally as he gave her a series of lightning-quick slaps all over her cheeks until they smarted and burned and her pussy had grown inexplicably wet.
When Edward saw the pink flush of blood rising to the surface of her skin, he relented, smoothing his palm over her ass and bending down to nuzzle his face in her neck.
“We’re going to have so much fun on your birthday, Bella,” he whispered. “I can promise you that.”
“You are a twisted freak,” she mumbled through the tangle of her own hair as she turned her face to his.
“You love it,” he argued confidently, caressing her backside until he felt her arch into his hand. He slid his fingers slowly down the crevice between her buttocks, briefly exploring her back entrance before finding the slick opening beneath it. Gentle probing revealed the slippery evidence of her arousal, granting him easy entry. She moaned softly as his fingers delved deeper, seeking that special spot inside her that would make her come.
“I was right about you,” he whispered, half to himself, as he began to move his first two fingers in a languorous rhythm, pushing deeper inside. She whimpered softly, and he used his other hand to push the t-shirt up her back, exposing her ivory flesh so he could massage her back in time with the delving of his fingers.
“Right about what?” she gasped, grasping the comforter in her fingers and arching her back once more to meet his touch.
“That you love this. You were made for this.” He worked his fingers deeper before pulling out slightly and then plumbing her depths again. Her pussy made delicious smacking sounds that turned him on more than she could ever know, and he felt his dick harden beneath the covers, wanting in on the action.
“Made for what - finger fucking?” she retorted between heavy breaths.
He let out a soft chuckle. “Yes,” he agreed. “Finger fucking. All kinds of fucking. Sex,” he asserted, letting his free hand glide down her back to join the other. He slid one underneath her to stroke her clitoris, while the other plunged rhythmically inside her. “You love sex. That’s why you came to me in the first place.”
She scowled into the comforter, wanting to protest, but too caught up in the incredible sensations racking her abdomen. “I love sex with you,” she managed to say, turning her head sideways to get a peek at his beautiful body next to her. She reached back and pulled at the covers until his erection sprang free, his dick hard and pointing at her in proof of his own desires. She quickly grabbed it in her fist, yanking a bit roughly until he groaned. Then she worked her hand in time with his, stroking his cock from base to tip to match his fingers sliding in and out of her.
“And I love it with you,” he rasped, feeling himself lose control, sensing that the reckless beast within was about to take over once more. He began working her deep inside with short, rapid-fire strokes against the spongy flesh of her g-spot, and she cried out as her body tensed around him. She let go of his dick and clutched the comforter beneath her in both hands, her knuckles white as she panted and pushed back into his ruthless hand.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, moaning helplessly. How could something so rough and animalistic feel so good? His hand worked like a velvet jack-hammer inside her, a human vibrator sending her neurons firing in every direction until she was filled with electricity . . . snapping, crackling, building into an explosion of fireworks that burst all around him, her body quaking, muscles squeezing his hand with vice-like pressure in wave after wave of mind-blowing ecstasy.
He slowed the motion of his hand to a standstill as she came, amazed once more at the intensity of her orgasm. Her release was still the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He wasn’t sure what turned him on more - the power he had over her pleasure, or perversely, the utter lack of control her surrender inevitably made him feel. All he knew was that her euphoria was his own. He smoothed her hair from her face as her breathing slowed and she turned to look up at him. Their eyes shared that strange knowing yet again - that language that transcended words. The realization of what they did to each other - what they were together - and how it changed forever who they were when they were apart.
Her gaze finally fell from his stunned face to the evidence of his unsated desire, bobbing and twitching on his belly as he slumped back against the headboard. Still drunk on endorphins, Bella slowly turned to face him. She stretched out on her side across his body, easing her hips onto the mattress next to him, reluctantly letting his magic hand exit her body. She raised her eyes to his as she leaned in and pressed her lips to the base of his erection. She watched his lungs fill with air at the sensation, then opened her mouth, letting her tongue tickle his rigid flesh. She languidly ran it up the ridge on the underside of his cock until she reached the sensitive tip, then swirled it slowly around the head as she grasped his shaft in one hand. His eyes rolled back slightly before closing, and a throaty moan escaped him. Bella’s mouth smiled in satisfaction before opening wide and taking in every inch of him she could manage.
She felt his hands in her hair immediately, reaching for the nape of her neck, his grip as gentle as the moans that vibrated his Adam’s apple. He did not guide her, but simply let his fingers rest there, lost in her tangled mane as she took the reins. He let her be the master of his pleasure once more, moving at her own pace, slowly stroking and exploring with her hands and mouth, sucking and licking and swallowing until he felt his hips begin to move in time with her, his fingers once again pressing into her scalp until she choked, her saliva running thick over his cock. He let go immediately, guilty over the intense pleasure that had given him.
But Bella only took a breath and did it once more, calming her gag reflex and swallowing him deep. His noises of appreciation spurred her to do it again, and again, until she gagged and was forced to release him.
She sat up a little and looked at him, firmly grasping his saliva-drenched cock and stroking it up and down while he shook his head in amazement.
“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he told her.
“But you like it,” she pointed out. “If you like it, I like it.”
“And if you don’t, then I don’t,” he told her, placing his hands gently on either side of her face. “This is a two-way street. Remember that.”
She nodded, still working his wet erection in her hand. “I know something I’d like.”
“Name it.”
His face was open, ready. Waiting to fulfill her fantasy.
She raised herself up and swung one knee over his hips, straddling him. She rubbed her still-throbbing pussy against him, up and down, wetting them both, until his swollen head was lodged at her opening. And then, after she slowly lowered herself onto him, gasping as he stretched and filled her, she leaned in close and said one thing:
“I want you to come inside me.”
Edward’s groan was equal parts pleasure and exasperation, his eyes plaintive. “Anything but that.”
“No. Exactly that,” she insisted, pushing down with a small whimper until he was buried balls-deep inside her. “I can’t get pregnant right now. I’m clean, you’re clean - I trust you.”
“Don’t,” he shot back, his hands closing around her hips, ready to pull her off of him.
“I want to feel you come inside me like that first night, only better,” she continued, gripping his shoulders firmly and moving her groin slowly against his, letting him out a little before bearing down again. “I want you to explode inside me. I want to feel your cum, hot and wet, filling me up. I want every drop, deep inside.”
“Holy fuck,” he mumbled before her lips closed over his in a hungry kiss. He knew he should push her away, but how could he when it was the last thing he wanted to do? Instead he felt himself kissing her back, caressing her tongue with his own. His hands squeezed her hips, fingers splaying over her cheeks; his hips rose to meet hers, cock sinking gratefully into juicy flesh.
Bella murmured triumphantly into his mouth and pressed against him, hands traveling up his neck into his thick hair before releasing him. She grabbed at the t-shirt still covering her body and pulled it over her head, rising to her knees so her naked chest would assault Edward’s eyes the minute she was free. He reacted exactly as she knew he would, groaning and taking her breasts one by one in his mouth, his hands roaming up and down her body, no longer knowing where to rest.
Shivering from his touch, she lowered herself on him again and began building a rhythm, panting in time to the sensations of his cock burrowing deep within her. Each thrust still hurt and yet somehow didn’t, each welcome impalement forcing a whimper of pained pleasure from her throat.
Edward watched her dance atop him in a helpless ecstasy that bordered on agony. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but he craved it so much that stopping would be even worse. Unthinkable. Besides, the damage had already been done last night, his fevered mind reasoned. Might as well ride this out to its inexorable conclusion.
And ride they did, bodies coming together with escalating fervor, writhing and bucking until Bella grasped the headboard on either side of Edward’s shoulders to brace herself. His hands closed over her ass, holding her steady as their hips repeatedly rammed together. But the real intimacy was to be found further north, where shiny faces hovered mere inches apart, blurry-eyed and cherry-lipped, panting and moaning in unison, kissing and parting before kissing again.
Bella’s cries were soft and regular, keeping time with the increasing rhythm of their thrusts. But when they began to escalate in pitch and frequency, Edward knew with thrilling certainty that this was the moment he’d been waiting for. She was going to come. With his dick inside her. Fucking her. The elusive event he’d fantasized about since the night they met was at hand.
He let go of her hips so he could grasp her face instead, making her look at him. She knew what he was doing - knew how much this meant to him. To both of them. She locked her gaze with his and let go of the headboard, sinking her fingers into Edward’s hair instead as his cock drilled deep and sparked that delicious, slow burn within her.
He felt the pressure building inside him, the force gathering deep at the base of his groin. He tried to slow his rhythm, refusing to ruin this, to give in to the urge to come before she did. But her hips were relentless, fast and furious as she rode him, her body carrying her to the edge of that cliff, ready to take the plunge. He gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate on anything that would keep him from following her there. But it was no use. He was too far gone. He was already over the edge, free falling, hoping that he could pull her with him.
He bucked with a helpless groan of ecstasy at the first emission that rocketed from his dick, straight up into the encircling warmth of her womb. But when the second spurt erupted, he felt something else - the crushing grip of her muscles tightening around him in her own release.
His eyes popped open wide with grateful wonder as she shuddered around him, her insides clamping down mercilessly, her orgasm reverberating in glorious sync with his own.
She wasn’t nearly as surprised as he was. The minute she felt him let go - felt that molten liquid shoot deep inside, bathing her core in warmth - she knew she had arrived. This was it. This was the ecstasy she’d searched for all along; the connection that had eluded her until Edward. The thing she’d wanted that she could never name, never even imagine, when she had sought out a stranger to somehow complete her.
It made no sense to her, even now. She knew her self-esteem should not hinge upon her desirability to someone else; nor her ability to quench his desires in return. But here, in Edward Masen’s room, in Edward Masen’s bed, she had found something she never knew was missing, something she could never find alone. And it wasn’t between his legs - it was in his eyes.
And he recognized that truth in hers.
They found that nameless truth in one another, rutting atop twisted bed covers, bathed in slats of golden sunlight spilling through the window blinds. Bella Swan and Edward Masen had finally come together. In unison. In a whirlwind of delirium and ecstasy and blind trust that both had wished for, but never fully expected to happen.
But it did. It did happen. They had finally reached the pinnacle they had both yearned for, at exactly the same time, with matching intensity. Matching awe. Matching disbelief, and acceptance, and relief.
As they clutched each other in panting, pulsating oneness, they both wondered the same thing.
Where would they go from here?
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Chapter 29
“I like your cousin. I’m glad you took me to that restaurant so I could officially meet her.”
Bella smiled at Edward, his profile the picture of concentration in the glow of the dashboard light. Her comment brought a matching smile to his face, though he didn’t take his eyes from the road winding through the residential hills of Magnolia.
“I had the feeling you two would hit it off. But I must be insane, encouraging the two of you to hang out together.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Alice is an open book. I won’t have any secrets left by the time she’s done talking to you,” he replied with a rueful laugh.
“So, you’re keeping secrets from me?” Bella mused.
“No. You’re already fully aware of my biggest skeleton. It isn’t exactly in the closet.”
“Then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
Nothing at all, he thought. Just getting in even deeper with you, that’s all.
He hadn’t consciously decided to bring her to the house after their date, but as he navigated the familiar streets winding toward his family home, he realized the destination had been inevitable. She had already found where he lived. Inviting her into the actual structure was a mere formality now.
He turned off of Magnolia Way onto a cul-de-sac that held a handful of vintage Craftsman and Tudor homes, all situated to afford stunning views of Puget Sound and Mount Rainier. He glanced over at Bella to get her reaction as he pulled into the drive of the Cullen home.
“This is where you live? It looks like a gingerbread house.”
She stared through the windshield at the stately English Tudor looming before them at the end of the drive. Edward slowed the car as they neared the detached garage and waited for the electronic door to open. The clouds above had given the moon a break, letting it illuminate the grounds so Bella could glimpse the lush landscaping surrounding the brown and cream two-story home.
“This looks like something out of a fairytale,” Bella commented as they pulled into the former carriage house, now a fully modernized two-car garage.
“That’s what I thought, too, when I was a kid. I was always nagging my folks to go visit Grandpa and Grandma Cullen. Little did I know I’d end up living here.”
Bella wanted to ask again what happened to Edward’s parents - car accident, he’d said - but she was hesitant to bring up a sore subject. She hoped his invitation to visit his family home would prompt him to fill her in about his history without her having to pry.
She was still unlocking her seatbelt when Edward reached her car door, opening it for her like a proper gentleman. As they left the garage and followed the paved path to the side door, she was struck by the feeling she was entering a different world. A certain old-world charm clung to the house and its slightly overgrown foliage, replete with fragrant flowering shrubs and large shade trees. The stars were beginning to emerge overhead, sending showers of tiny spotlights through the sighing leaves. She reached for Edward’s hand and he grasped hers immediately, leading her down the walk.
“It’s so beautiful here. Peaceful,” she said quietly.
She saw Edward’s smile broaden in the dusk, and he squeezed her hand. “It is. That’s one of the reasons I couldn’t give it up.”
He unlocked the heavy oak door to the entryway and held it open for Bella. She stepped inside and stood on the landing, looking around in curiosity. Straight ahead, a few steps descended to a basement door; to the left, a short flight of stairs led up to the kitchen. She dutifully wiped her feet on the doormat and wondered if she should hang her backpack up on one of the coat knobs fastened to the wall next to the door.
Seconds later, mind-reader Edward told her, “You can leave your backpack here if you want.”
She laughed a little to herself as she took his suggestion. He opened his own backpack and removed the quilt, tossing it on a bench next to the basement door. “I’ll take that down to the laundry room later,” he said in explanation. Then he motioned for her to climb the stairs to the kitchen, and she obeyed. He followed close behind, flicking a light switch at the top to illuminate the room.
She gasped a little as she surveyed the brand-new granite center island with its modern bar stools, surrounded by rich cherry cabinets, steel appliances and matching light fixtures.
“This is nice,” she said at last. “A little different than what I was expecting.”
“How so?” Edward queried, a peculiar edge to his voice.
“Well, it looks so new. I thought it would be more . . . traditional.”
His smile was wry. “Most of the house is traditional. But the kitchen is brand new.” He paused and looked at Bella, his eyes hesitant, yet determined. “That’s how I found out how bad my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s was. Right at the end of my college finals, I got a call from Alice telling me Em had left lunch burning on the stove. She came home from school and found the place filled with smoke. She could see the flames from the kitchen, and she ran frantically from room to room, looking for our grandmother. She found her asleep in the downstairs guest bedroom and thankfully got her out before the smoke got to them. Afterward, Emily had no memory of putting a pan of oil on the stove to cook some French fries. She’d just wandered off and forgot she was even making lunch, apparently. She said was tired so she went to take a nap, and that was all she could remember.”
He grimaced slightly and looked around the room. “The kitchen was pretty much a loss, and the downstairs had smoke and water damage after it was all over. Thankfully the upstairs didn’t need much more than a good airing out. It took a year, but we got everything cleaned up, repaired and remodeled. Good as new. Maybe better,” he told her with a humorless laugh.
Bella didn’t know what to say. She sensed Edward wasn’t finished, so she waited, watching him as his eyes scanned the room again.
“Alice likes it. She’s not into antiques too much. I like new things, don’t get me wrong. I used to love staying in luxury hotels when I first started escorting. But they can feel sort of cold and sterile after awhile. Older things have character. Substance. They tell a story.”
Bella nodded, though she’d never given the subject much thought before. Her father’s house was a cozy, non-descript bungalow near the gloomy green depths of the Olympic Forest; while her mother’s Florida home was a typical warm-weather dwelling of stucco and tile, similar to the one they’d shared in Phoenix together when she was young. Both her parents’ homes contained a hodge-podge of garage sale finds and knock-down discount store furniture - nothing with a story to tell, that she knew of.
But when Edward motioned for her to follow him into the next room, she realized what he was talking about. Her mouth dropped as she looked around at the combination living/dining room, a large, open space anchored by impressive pieces of solid wood furniture atop gleaming hardwood floors. Her eyes roamed from a massive oak dining table with eight high-backed chairs to a huge mahogany breakfront full of beautiful antique dishes, then to an ornate coffee table with matching end tables, situated around elegant wing-backed chairs and a sofa. Even to Bella’s untrained eyes, everything in the room obviously was crafted with great skill and attention to detail. Each piece of furniture was meticulously carved with gorgeous embellishments, and glowed with the luster of repeated polishing over the course of many decades.
But the most striking thing about the room was the back wall behind the sitting area. The long, rectangular area was conspicuously empty in comparison to the adornment of the rest of the room.
Edward strolled over to the dining room table and ran his hand along the rich, glossy wood. “My great-great grandfather and his son were carpenters,” he explained, still looking at the handiwork under his fingertips. “They built this house together over eighty-five years ago, and most of the furniture in it. They had a booming business together until the Depression, when the housing market collapsed. They lost most everything, but managed to hang onto the house.”
Edward turned to Bella, his expression hard to read. “My grandfather didn’t follow in their footsteps. He was more interested in cars. He loved to take them apart and put them back together. He was a mechanic for a long time, and then went into parts sales, traveling around the area as the auto repair industry grew. He was a great guy - everybody loved him. That’s what Em always told me, anyway. She loved him, of course - probably to a fault. Because the truth was, he liked liquor and gambling almost as much as he liked cars. The liquor finally did him in - he died of liver disease before I was ever born. And I found out years later that the gambling ate up whatever money he’d made, and then some. I never knew my grandmother had mortgaged the house long ago to pay off his debts.”
Bella stood, rapt, in the middle of the room. The hush between Edward’s words felt almost sacred, like the slightest noise on her part would break the spell. He was finally opening up to her, spilling the secrets of his past, and she would do nothing to stop his flow of words now that the dam had broken.
“My uncle Carlisle was determined not to go down the destructive path his father had. Maybe that’s why he became a doctor - an internist. His younger sister - my mother - became a nurse. They both had the perfect temperament for medicine: compassionate, kind-hearted. Sometimes I think I used to fall and scrape my knees on purpose just so my mom would bandage me up,” he said with a chuckle. “She’d always tell me some little story to divert me while she was cleaning the wound, so I’d never feel the sting. And it worked.” He stopped for a moment and smiled, his eyes far away, focused on a memory. They finally returned to the present, and Bella’s patient gaze, prompting him to continue.
“She met my dad in college - they were both pre-med. He ended up being a general practitioner. He had just as good a bedside manner, but he was always a little harder on me than she was. He didn’t want me to grow up too soft or spoiled. He wanted to make sure I was self-sufficient. So he’d challenge me to figure out how to do things on my own, and then he’d help me when I really needed it. I can’t really blame him, considering how he grew up.”
Edward paused again, ruffling his hair with his fingers as he approached Bella. His eyes met hers in a strange sort of challenge that she didn’t understand at first.
“My dad was orphaned at the age of seven,” he said abruptly, his voice brittle. “He was born in Chicago. His mother got pregnant when she was a teenager, which was pretty scandalous in the 1950s. Her parents wanted her to give the baby up for adoption, but after my father was born, she couldn’t go through with it. She ended up running away with him so she could keep him, but she had no money and no skills - she’d never finished high school. Dad always told me she supported them by being a waitress, but I have my doubts about that.” He stopped and grimaced, shaking his head.
“Why?” Bella blurted, unable to stop herself. She almost clapped her hand over her mouth, she was so worried she’d ruined the moment. She didn’t want him to clam up on her now.
His face was grim, but he continued. “Because of the way she died. Her body was found in a hotel room in a seedy part of the city. There were drugs in the room; drugs in her system. She had a few bruises on her body, but they were faint, inconclusive. Her death was determined to be an overdose, but I don’t know . . . I’ve always had the feeling she was murdered. I don’t know whether she was dealing drugs or whether she was a prostitute, or a combination of the two. But whatever she was doing got her killed at the age of twenty-four.”
A chill ran down Bella’s spine. She stared up into Edward’s eyes, now oddly vacant and hard, like chips of black ice in the dim light from the chandelier over the dining room table. The similarity of twenty-four-year-old Edward’s choices to those of his grandmother was not lost on Bella. Clearly it wasn’t lost on him, either.
“My father never wanted me to know any of that, of course. And he died when I was only ten, so I had to pry the truth from Emily when I was older. But I’m glad I know. It explains a few things.” His crooked grin was sardonic. Bella wanted to protest, but stopped herself when Edward spoke.
“Don’t worry. I don’t feel doomed to repeat her mistakes, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I have to appreciate the irony of it, all the same. One of life’s little jokes.”
But neither of them was laughing.
Edward shook his head, his brows furrowing in regret. “I’m sorry, Bella. I really didn’t bring you here to dump all my family baggage on you.” He reached a gentle hand to the side of her face. “I just wanted to show you were I live, maybe explain why I love this place - why I did what I did to keep it. I’m doing a hell of a job so far, huh?” he concluded with a rueful laugh.
“You’re doing fine,” she assured him, reaching for his free hand. He took it and slid his fingers between hers, clutching them tightly. “Don’t apologize. I want to know more about you, where you came from. You have no idea how much I’ve been hoping you’d share that with me, even if it isn’t all good. Nobody has perfect families or perfect lives, you know. I like hearing about your past, even the bad stuff. It doesn’t have to ruin the present.”
Edward’s smile was genuine this time. He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb and wondered again what he’d done to deserve her.
“I already told you today that you’re amazing, right?” he asked.
That brought her smile out to join his. “Yeah, but there’s no statute of limitations on that.”
“Good. Because you are.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes for a moment. Bella kept hers open, loving the soft blur of his features so close to hers. He sighed a little, his breath warm on her skin; then he turned his face ever so slightly so that his lips could reach hers for a gentle kiss.
He wanted to say it then. He was amazed that the words were so close to the surface, so ready on the tip of his tongue.
I love you.
No, that couldn’t be true, could it? He’d known her for only sixteen days.
You’re counting the days. That’s love, idiot.
He kissed her again, letting the knowledge sink in. Letting the weight of it settle in his bones and tissues, imbuing his lips with a special reverence, a curious calm, as they caressed hers.
He pulled back slightly so his eyes could focus on hers. He wondered if she saw the words there, printed across his corneas in naked relief. He tried to read hers, hoping it was more than sympathy - or worse yet, pity - that made them shine with unshed tears. He hoped instead that something as profound as what he was feeling was the culprit.
And then she spoke, and his hopes were dashed.
“So what happened to your father after that? After your grandmother died?”
He let his hands drop, and took a step back. Her look of disappointment was reassuring, at least.
“Orphanages. A couple of sets of foster parents,” Edward answered. He felt his hand reaching for his head, fingers finding comfort in thick shanks of hair. “He studied hard and did well in school, so he had a few scholarships to help him get to college. He chose U-Dub’s pre-med program; that’s where he met my mom. They got married after they graduated, and she went to work as an RN while he finished med school. By the time he graduated, Carlisle had already been working for a few years in a medical clinic, and he managed to get my dad a position there. It was just in time, too, because my mom was pregnant with me.”
The smile that stretched across Bella’s face at those words encouraged Edward once more. “I had a pretty normal childhood. A happy one. I grew up in a little two-bedroom house in Beacon Hill. Mom worked part-time until I went to school, so she was home with me a lot. I was probably pretty spoiled, being the only kid in the family until Alice came along. I remember how excited Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme were - I guess they’d been trying for awhile and were beginning to give up hope. But Alice’s arrival changed all that. I think she came out of the womb smiling. That’s just her temperament. She always sees the good in people, always hopes for the best.”
“What about you?” Bella asked. The wistful look in his eyes gave her the answer.
“I hope to be more like Alice when I grow up,” he answered half-jokingly. He glanced around the room again, his eyes falling on the gaping hole in the corner. He frowned slightly.
“Why don’t I show you the rest of the house?” he suggested, leading Bella past the foot of a beautifully carved staircase to the family room entry. He explained that a wall had been knocked out between the former parlor and study to create another large living space, this one more eclectically furnished with comfy furniture and a big-screen TV. The far end of the room still contained vestiges of the study, including an antique roll-top desk and floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves sporting dozens of volumes, old to new.
Bella digested it all in silence, save for the occasional appreciative comment. She followed Edward to the rear terrace overlooking the Sound, gleaming darkly under the night sky, and she marveled at the view. Even more, she marveled at what this place did for Edward. “Content” wasn’t quite the right word to describe him, but there was something about the house that clearly resonated with him. She could see the deep connection he felt to it, and to his family’s past. She supposed it stemmed from having so little family history on his father’s side, and so few relatives still living. This place represented security to him, in a world where there was precious little of it.
She reached for his hand again as he guided her back to the family room, briefly showing her an offshoot to a small guest bedroom, where Emily had gone to rest after leaving the stove on that fateful day. Then he led her back to the staircase dividing the family and living rooms and asked her if she’d like to see the upstairs.
“Sure,” she answered at once, her pulse quickening. She was anxious to see Edward’s bedroom, and wondered if he would invite her to spend the night. But as she turned to follow him up the stairs, her eyes caught the yawning emptiness in the corner of the living room once more. She gasped when it struck her what had been there - what was missing from this house.
“What is it?” he asked her, stopping short at the bottom step. He caught where her gaze had fallen before she turned curious eyes to his.
“Where’s the piano, Edward?”
He wasn’t sure why the question stabbed at him the way it did, but he felt the breath leave his lungs at her words. He sagged against the railing and took a breath so he could answer.
“Remember when I said that the kitchen incident was what tipped us off to how bad my grandmother’s dementia was getting?” He shook his head. “Well, for me, it was this.” He nodded toward the empty spot. “I had just graduated from Juilliard when I came home to find the kitchen destroyed. But even that didn’t hit me like this did - this hole in the living room.”
He glanced at the empty floorboards in the corner again, not noticing Bella’s jaw drop at his words. “She forgot I was a musician. Forgot the whole reason I was away at school. One day she just looked at the piano and couldn’t figure out why we still had one. She’d never learned to play it, and my grandfather, who tinkered at it, had died long ago. So she sold it.” He let out an incredulous laugh.
“Alice hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell me yet - she could hardly believe it herself. But that’s how I knew my grandmother was really gone, or at least halfway there. Because the woman who raised me from the age of ten and encouraged me to follow my dreams never would have done such a thing. She never would have forgotten.
“But she did. She did forget. Later, when she realized what she’d done, she cried and begged me to forgive her. And that’s how it went - how it’s gone - for the past two years. She has moments of clarity, but the confusion and memory loss take their place more and more every day. I used to bring her here every Thursday so she wouldn’t forget this place. We’d look at all the old photo albums, and I’d remind her all the stories she told me about our ancestors, and how they built this house. And she’d remember, and repeat the stories, maybe even tell me some new ones, so I’d know she was still in there somewhere.
“But lately she’s afraid to leave Tranquility Gardens. She gets disoriented and doesn’t know where I’m taking her. Sometimes when she’s here, she cries because she can’t remember the things she knows she should. So I don’t bring her here as much anymore. It’s too hard on her.”
“And on you,” Bella added softly. She reached out and closed her hand around Edward’s forearm, stroking the soft brown hairs up and down. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this. It’s so much to deal with. I don’t know how you do it.”
His smile was wry. “Some would argue that I don’t deal with it very well. Alice, for one.”
“She just wants more for you, that’s all,” Bella said. She slid her hand down to his, grasping it tightly. “You never told me you went to Juilliard. That’s . . . pretty impressive, to say the least. You shouldn’t throw that away. It’s not too late, you know. I’m surprised you never replaced the piano, so you can keep playing. I know they’re expensive, but . . .” She trailed off, waiting to hear his thoughts on the matter. She couldn’t imagine ignoring that kind of education to become a glorified prostitute, no matter how dire the circumstances. But she wanted to understand, and waited for Edward’s explanation.
Edward idly played with her hand, rubbing his thumb along her palm. “After I’d made the decision to be an escort, I was glad the piano wasn’t here. It just would have been a reminder of what I’d given up. But I did start to miss it. I needed the release. Luckily, I have a friend with a piano so I can still practice. I’m rusty, but not as much as I might have been otherwise.”
He paused, wondering if he could ever make Bella understand why he’d done the crazy thing he did to survive. He wasn’t sure he understood it himself.
“When I ran into Emmett McCarty - the Enforcer, remember? - I was kind of in panic mode. I didn’t know how I was going to afford to fix the kitchen, or even save the house from foreclosure by the bank. Long story short, my grandmother’s finances were a mess. All her insurance policies had lapsed, she had two mortgages on the house, and she was in need of twenty-four-hour supervision. I didn’t know how to handle any of it. When Emmett told me how much money he was making, it was an eye opener. It looked like the golden ticket to me at the time.
“I didn’t think about his offer for very long. I knew if I did, I’d talk myself out of doing it. So I took the job and tried not to look back. I told myself it was a dream job, anyway - getting paid to date women. And if I got no-strings sex out of the deal, even better.”
Edward stopped to gauge her reaction; to watch the look of discontent furrow her pretty features. He reached one hand up in an attempt to smooth them.
“I’m no saint, Bella. I didn’t mind being an escort at first. I even enjoyed it sometimes. But by the time I met you, I didn’t really feel much of anything anymore. The numbness was easier to take. Complacency made it easier for me to just keep doing what I was doing. And I won’t lie, I liked the money. I liked being able to keep this place in the family, and being able to take care of Emily and Alice the way they deserved. I promised my father I would.”
Bella shook her head sadly. “What about what you deserve?”
Edward’s snort was derisive. “I lived a lot of years in ignorance, not knowing how my grandmother was struggling to make ends meet. She protected me from that and allowed me to selfishly pursue my dreams. So now it’s time for me to put her first.”
Bella could hear the conviction in his words; could see the stubborn determination in the set of his jaw. No wonder Alice had failed to get him to look for another way. He’d already found a solution, and in a twisted way, he thought he deserved to pay the price for it.
Edward sighed and gave her hand a squeeze. He began to ascend the stairs, gently pulling her along. Halfway up, he paused at a series of framed photos stair-stepping up the plaster wall beside them. At the bottom were typically stoic black-and-white portraits of his ancestors, starting with his great-great-grandparents. In the middle were his grandparents, captured in their youth, attractive and smart-looking in their 1940s styles. She wondered what Emily looked like now. She would be near eighty, Bella guessed.
As they neared the top of the stairs, the last two photographs greeting them were more recent family portraits, their vibrant colors mildly faded by the passage of the past decade or two.
“That’s my Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme, with Alice - I think she was about three years old there. And that’s me, when I was eight, with my parents - Edward, Senior and Elizabeth.”
“You’re a Junior?” Bella commented, studying the portraits. “Look how cute you were! And your mom and dad - so good-looking. Your aunt and uncle, too.” She leaned in and looked more closely at Edward’s parents. “You have your father’s jaw and eyebrows. But the rest of your face is a dead-ringer for your mother’s. You look just like her.”
“So I’ve been told,” he agreed with a smile.
“You said Carlisle was your mother’s older brother, right? But that makes her maiden name Cullen.” She thought back to Edward’s good-luck charm, still tucked into the corner of her desk calendar. “The painting she did, with the four-leaf clover, was signed E. Masen. If that was her married name, then that makes you . . .” she trailed off as the puzzle pieces of Edward’s identity came together.
“A Masen,” he finished for her. “I’ve thought about legally changing my name to Cullen. Masen was my grandmother’s last name. I don’t even know the name of my grandfather, because she never revealed it to my dad. So we both grew up as Masens. My real name is Edward Masen.”
His last sentence came out quiet and uncertain; a tentative introduction. Bella took him up on it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Edward Masen,” she replied just as softly. She squeezed his hand tightly, an intimate handshake, and he almost felt as if he and Bella were meeting for the first time.
She definitely felt like she had just met him today, in more ways than she could have anticipated. But there was still one piece missing before the puzzle of Edward Masen, Junior was complete.
“What happened to them?” she asked, her words whisper-light, yet seeming to echo in the staircase around them. She looked back at the happy faces of Edward and Elizabeth, Carlisle and Esme, and braced herself for the tale of their unhappy end.
Edward braced himself, too. He sat down on the top step and motioned for Bella to join him. “My father and my uncle decided to open their own practice together. They bought a small office on Pill Hill - that’s what they call First Hill, because of all the medical centers there - and they had just remodeled it to open a family practice in November of ‘97. They decided to have an open house for the place, inviting all their patients and friends in the medical profession to come visit. It was an early Friday evening, but they thought it would be boring for Alice and me, so Emily offered to skip the open house and watch us instead. Our parents dropped us off here, then all left in Carlisle’s SUV together.”
He paused while Bella waited, her apprehension growing. She found herself gripping his hand a little too hard and tried to relax her fingers.
“They made it to the office just fine, but then a freak ice storm hit. Forecasters had missed it; they said we’d have a slight chance of snow. It started up right before the open house was over, so my folks and aunt and uncle closed early and decided to come home. But it wasn’t soon enough. They were on Highway 5 headed north when they lost control on the ice and slid into a semi.”
Bella was holding her breath now and gripping his hand even tighter, despite her efforts not to. He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were far away as he continued.
“The front of the car was crushed. Carlisle and Esme were already gone by the time the paramedics arrived. But my parents survived for a little while longer. Long enough for us to say our good-byes. Long enough for my father to tell me that I was the man of the house now, and I would need to be strong and take care of my grandmother and my cousin.”
Bella finally let out a long, shaky breath. “Edward . . .” She stopped, afraid to say what she was thinking. She looked up into his face, a mask of stoicism; but he couldn’t hide the pain that sharpened his eyes to flint. She turned her body toward his on the stairs, making him look at her before she spoke her mind.
“You were only ten years old. Who was strong for you?”
The pain flashed through his eyes again, softening them this time. Tears formed, but he didn’t let them fall. “Em was. She was the strong one. The adult, the caretaker - the only one left. But now it’s my turn.”
Bella shook her head. She’d always known Edward was serious about his responsibilities, but she’d never known to what extent. She mustered her courage and hoped she could stand behind the words she was about to say.
“Well, if it helps any, you’re not in this alone anymore.”
Edward searched her eyes for the truth. Could she really be there for him, no matter what? No matter how long it took for him to find his way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into?
“I can’t ask you to -”
But Bella cut him off. “You don’t have to ask. I’m telling you I’m here for you. If you want me,” she added uncertainly.
He stared at her in disbelief. “If I want you?” he repeated hoarsely, making sure she understood how ludicrous her words were. He let go of her hand so he could grasp her face in both of his. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted anything so much.”
His mouth claimed hers then, but the prize was already won. She yielded immediately, giving in to his kiss, greedily taking and returning his passion in equal measure. Their kisses multiplied as they grasped at one another, clutching hair and clothes and warm skin, under the watchful two-dimensional eyes of Cullens and Masens past.
When at last they broke apart for air, Edward realized Bella’s tour of his home was now ready to come to its logical conclusion.
“Would you like to see my bedroom, Miss Swan?”
She looked into his heavy-lidded gaze, and her slow grin matched his. “I would love to see your bedroom, Mister Masen.”
A strange thrill shot through him at the sound of his real name spoken in Bella’s sexy alto. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman had uttered it. Maybe none had. Edward Cullen was the only incarnation who had dated any women for over two years now. For Edward Masen, this experience was brand new.
He stood and reached for her hand once more, helping her to her feet. After briefly pointing out the doorways of Alice’s and Emily’s bedrooms, he led her to his own. But instead of turning on the garish ceiling light, he reached for the nearest lamp, a small fixture atop his desk near the door. One turn of the switch cast a deep amber glow throughout the room, at once soothing and seductive.
“This is my room,” he hesitantly announced, waiting for the only judgment that mattered.
Even in the ambient light, it was easy to see that Edward’s room contained more beautiful pieces of antique furniture. The dresser, chest and desk were all constructed of matching lustrous dark wood. But by far the most impressive piece in the room was the huge four-poster bed that loomed before her.
She was still gaping at it when she felt Edward’s arms circle her waist, pulling her close.
“Do you like it?” came the velvet voice in her ear seconds later. His breath on her neck sent the usual tremors down her spine, and she wondered if she would ever be immune. She hoped not.
“I love it.” I love you, was what she really wanted to say. This beautiful house and its furnishings would mean nothing to her if they didn’t mean so much to him. But as symbols of something solid and enduring, she could appreciate them almost as much as Edward did. She could even envy them a little because of his regard for them. She longed to make that bed jealous by stealing every ounce of his affection and holding it hostage. Right now, Bella wanted nothing more than for Edward to make love to her in the middle of that enormous antique until all four posts shook with fury at their passion.
His lips were on her neck now, soft and warm and wet. They mimicked the flesh between her thighs, already aroused and craving his kisses. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the broad hardness of his chest. She sighed, remembering that first night with him . . . the unexpected intimacy of a stranger’s touch; the freedom of surrender to its inexplicable power.
“Make me feel it again,” she whispered. She wondered if he would know what she meant.
He knew all too well. He was right there with her, remembering the silky blue dress, feeling it now between his fingertips as he caressed the cotton of her t-shirt. He pulled at it, baring her shoulder, and recalled the sun gleaming off of her ivory skin. She was dusky peach now in the lamp light, and tasted just as sweet to his searching lips. Her head lolled against his; her hair smelled of the beach. He buried his face in the wind-whipped strands and inhaled deeply. The undeniable urge gripped him again - the need to lose himself in her, to burrow deep and live in her warmth.
He pulled the clothes from her body with an impatience he could no longer suppress. She had made him reckless that first night, and every time he’d seen her since, so it should have been no surprise that she had him on his knees the minute he got her alone in his bedroom.
And that’s exactly where he found himself moments later: on his knees amidst a pile of discarded clothes, clutching Bella’s beautiful ass cheeks in his greedy fingers, his face buried deep between them. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten her to the edge of the bed. Yet there she stood, her hands grasping the nearest bedpost, hanging on for dear life while he devoured her sex from behind with a hunger he could not contain. This was the dessert he’d been fantasizing about all through dinner, watching her give him that sexy, knowing smile across the table; remembering those lips wrapped around him, drinking him down.
And now he took his fill of her juicy flesh, sweet and tangy and more delicious than any girl had a right to be. He nipped at her ripe cheeks; pulled at her soft lips with his own. He tongued the steamy entrances to her body, back and forth, up and down, in and out, until her gasps turned to sobs. Those were his favorite sound: the cries of a pleasure that was too intense - the cries that begged him to stop, yet never stop. The sounds a woman made when teetering on the edge of no return. That was the ultimate destination, and he’d taken her there.
He paused, breathing heavily against her sex; and she sobbed again, her body quivering. He gazed up at her and found her utterly glorious: thighs parted, back arched, hair swaying gently across her back with each panting breath as she clutched the bedpost in both hands and waited for more. The truth struck him in that moment: she loved his impatience. Loved his hunger. Loved his need. She loved making him lose control, and loved him taking it back.
Maybe she even loved him.
He let his hands wander from the perfect globes of flesh they’d been cradling and let them caress the rest of her, up and down: the line of her long legs, the smoothness of her belly, the rigid peaks of her breasts. He was rewarded with her sighs and soft moans, so he continued on, tracing the length of her spine until he was back where he started. He massaged her sweet cheeks again, working his way between them until he found the slippery entrance. And now he would bring her to the brink once more.
Her whimpers started up again as he teased her with his fingers, probing gently, dipping in and out with a tantalizing rhythm that served to ramp up her frustration. She was soon pushing rhythmically against his hand, pulling his fingers in deeper.
“That’s it,” he murmured softly, reaching his free hand down to stroke his erection. He worked both hands together, gently fingering her in time with the motion of his fist pumping his cock. He was beginning to make the same desperate sounds she was, but he wanted her to be the first to crack. He needed her to want it, to want him, as much as he did her.
His fingers were moving rapidly against her pussy now, working her clit before plunging in deep, and then starting over again. Her cries increased with his pace until she was shaking and clinging to the bedpost. He was near the breaking point himself, growling like an animal, ready to throw her on the bed and take her before she climaxed all over his hand instead of his desperate cock.
“Edward!” she finally gasped in a broken sob. “Please . . .”
He stilled his hand at once, two fingers still buried knuckle deep inside her.
“Please what?” he demanded hoarsely.
“Fuck me,” she moaned, and he couldn’t tell if it was a plea or a command. “Give me your cock. I want your cock. . .”
But he was already on his feet, sweeping her off hers to the waiting bed. Covers down; pillows found. He was on her, she was under him, and they were both delirious at the connection. As unhinged as he had just made her with his oral skills, it couldn’t compare to the feel of every inch of his skin pressed against hers, their flesh and bone creating a symphony of movement together. She craved the intoxication of his breath mingling with hers, the thick silk of his hair between her fingers, the trails of wildfire his hands left wherever they roamed. But most of all, she loved his eyes on her. His eyes said the things his lips could not.
His eyes told her the truth.
She looked for it now, between ravenous kisses and lust-filled groping. And sure enough, she saw what she’d always seen: a certain reverence, maybe even awe. Like her presence was a gift he was surprised, even baffled, to have received. But she saw something else this time - something new.
Acceptance.
He was no longer debating whether or not he wanted this gift, or deserved it, or should refuse it. Instead he was embracing it, literally and figuratively. He held nothing back now. His body moved in sensual abandon with hers, its natural rhythms propelling him into her and all around her, limbs encasing, hands and lips caressing everywhere they could reach.
He spoke now in whispers washing over her, his words spilling out in an unconscious stream. Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about you . . . how much I’ve wanted you? . . . I can’t fucking shake you . . . I don’t want to . . . You’re like a drug to me. . . so beautiful . . . You’re in here, so deep . . .
She was drowning in his words, swimming in their lyrical cadence. She undulated to his rhythms, her body dancing with his, rising to meet his slow thrusts. Taking him deep inside . . . so deep.
She gasped at the sudden realization of what was happening. Edward was fucking her, and it didn’t hurt. She felt many things, but pain wasn’t one of them. Pain was the furthest thing from her mind. She gazed up at the tenderness in his eyes and felt a different kind of ecstasy than she’d ever known before. It had nothing, and everything, to do with the physical act taking place between them. It was the joining of so much more than flesh. It thrilled her, completed her, scared her to death. When she’d signed that agreement, she never knew she’d signed up for this - this all-encompassing, life-altering connection to another human being.
But as she wrapped her limbs around him, she knew she was clinging to a force greater than anything she dreamed even existed. She groaned when he impaled her, but they were very different groans from the ones her virgin lips had emitted two weeks ago. Now they were of her own acceptance, then transcendence. Each thrust of Edward’s cock inside her seemed to drive her out of her body, onto some elevated plane she didn’t recognize.
She heard desperate words fill the air, but from her own mouth this time. Begging him for more. Faster. Deeper. Harder. God, you feel so good . . . so good . . .
He was repeating the same grunting mantra as he drilled her, driving her to the head of the bed. She felt amazing to him. So responsive this time, so uninhibited. He wondered if she’d been practicing with those crazy things the doctor gave her. Surely not. But whatever the reason, she was free with him now in a way he’d never seen, urging him on, pulling him so deep that their skin smacked together and her body lurched beneath him with every thrust. He grabbed the headboard to steady himself, to keep from pounding her right into the ebony wood.
“Fuck,” was all he could mutter as he lost himself in the wetness of her tight walls gripping him. And then, through the frenzy of lust, it hit him why this was so different - why she felt so incredible, so mind-blowing - and it wasn’t just because he loved her.
“Oh no,” he whispered at the realization. He slowed his pace, his eyes growing round with dread as he stared down at Bella’s euphoric, innocent face.
“What?” she asked, her forehead creasing at the lull in his affection.
“Protection,” he croaked. “I forgot - I’m not wearing - shit,” he muttered. “Shit.”
And suddenly Bella was cold and empty while Edward dug frantically in the top drawer of his bed stand. She watched relief flood his face when he found a colorful wrapper conformed around the tell-tale ring of the condom within. She knew she should feel relieved, too - after all, it was for her protection - but she could only cringe at the sight of the thing.
“What is it?” he asked when he noticed her reaction. “You aren’t worried this is going to chafe you again, are you? I probably have some lube in here, too,” he said, diving for the bed stand again.
“No, it’s not that,” she said, sitting up and grabbing his arm to pull him back. “Well, maybe it is, a little. But mostly it’s . . . I don’t want to ruin what we just had going,” she admitted, stroking his arm as she looked up into his confused face. “It was so perfect. You felt so good. I want to feel you, not a rubber glove inside me.”
His half-grin was one of frustration. “You realize I want that too, don’t you? But they make these things so thin now, it’s really not like that,” he argued, referring to the foil packet he still clutched in one hand. “It’ll be good, I promise you. Let me find some lube and we can get pick up right where we left off.”
Her frown only deepened. “But we don’t need it. It’s way too late in my cycle for me to get pregnant. And I’m like clockwork, trust me,” she insisted.
“Spoken like a thousand other girls who ended up with unwanted pregnancies,” he said with a sigh. “Come on. Don’t be careless.”
“I’m not being careless,” she retorted, trying not to sound like a petulant child. “I just want this to be different. I want us to be different.”
Edward reached gentle fingers up to touch her cheek. “We are different. I know you have no good reason to believe me, but it’s true.”
“I do believe you,” she said. She pressed the side of her face into his hand, and his caress deepened. “You always use condoms, don’t you?”
He winced at her reference to the other times - the other women. He did not want to bring them into this house, and certainly not into this bed.
“Always,” he answered.
“Then be different with me.”
“Bella,” he said in exasperation. She closed her hand over his, then turned her face to kiss his palm.
“Please,” she begged, her chocolate eyes his undoing.
“I can’t,” he answered hoarsely, watching as she moved her lips to his wrist and pressed their pink satin against his pulse.
“You can,” she rebuked him quietly. She kissed her way up his arm, dismantling his armor. By the time her lips reached his ear, the battle was lost.
“Pull out before you come,” she whispered, her breath tickling his skin and snaking possessively down his spine.
His groan was one of submission; her faint grin was victorious. They fell back to the sheets and into one another’s arms. Edward was right - they quickly picked up where they’d left off, yearning bodies uniting in one effortless desire. But Bella was right, too. It was different with no barriers between them. Hungry flesh merged with raw and palpable urgency; fevered eyes met with naked honesty. There was nowhere to hide now. Nothing to do but trust one another.
Edward gripped the headboard in one hand again as he pumped into her with long, deliberate strokes, burying himself to the hilt before drawing out and thrusting deep again. Bella gasped at the intensity, but still tilted her hips upward to meet each thrust with her own. She grabbed his ass to make sure he gave her every inch of his cock, crying out softly at the impact deep within. The slow burn began - she could feel it coming. She was coming. Coming to meet him at last - to match his desire, his need, his ecstasy with her own.
Edward felt it too, and tried to hold back. But, dear God, she was so stunning at that moment . . . so gorgeous beneath him, red-lipped and flushed pink all over, panting and glistening with sweat . . . so wild and free, grabbing his ass and ramming him into her . . . dear God, that was hot. Too hot. She looked and felt so fucking good it almost brought tears to his eyes. Damn it, it was too much - he couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to come. Now.
He wrenched his body free of her grasping fingers right before his dick erupted. He grabbed it in one hand and frantically stroked his shaft right at its tender tip, moaning loudly at the sensation as he shot milky threads of cum all over her belly.
Bella had no time to be shocked at his sudden exit from her body. The nerve endings within her were already firing, already starting the chain reaction that would push the gathering blood from her engorged flesh. Her muscles clenched together in the first wave of her orgasm right after Edward pulled out, then quaked with shockwaves in perfect time to Edward’s ejaculations. She watched in wonder as her pelvis lifted to meet each emission. Their moans of pleasure created a perfect duet in the amber-tinted air; her painted belly became an erotic work of art.
They both stared at it, and then into each other’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Edward apologized.
Bella gazed up at him and shook her head at how differently they saw things.
“That’s too bad,” she said softly. “I’m not sorry at all.”
Bella smiled at Edward, his profile the picture of concentration in the glow of the dashboard light. Her comment brought a matching smile to his face, though he didn’t take his eyes from the road winding through the residential hills of Magnolia.
“I had the feeling you two would hit it off. But I must be insane, encouraging the two of you to hang out together.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Alice is an open book. I won’t have any secrets left by the time she’s done talking to you,” he replied with a rueful laugh.
“So, you’re keeping secrets from me?” Bella mused.
“No. You’re already fully aware of my biggest skeleton. It isn’t exactly in the closet.”
“Then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
Nothing at all, he thought. Just getting in even deeper with you, that’s all.
He hadn’t consciously decided to bring her to the house after their date, but as he navigated the familiar streets winding toward his family home, he realized the destination had been inevitable. She had already found where he lived. Inviting her into the actual structure was a mere formality now.
He turned off of Magnolia Way onto a cul-de-sac that held a handful of vintage Craftsman and Tudor homes, all situated to afford stunning views of Puget Sound and Mount Rainier. He glanced over at Bella to get her reaction as he pulled into the drive of the Cullen home.
“This is where you live? It looks like a gingerbread house.”
She stared through the windshield at the stately English Tudor looming before them at the end of the drive. Edward slowed the car as they neared the detached garage and waited for the electronic door to open. The clouds above had given the moon a break, letting it illuminate the grounds so Bella could glimpse the lush landscaping surrounding the brown and cream two-story home.
“This looks like something out of a fairytale,” Bella commented as they pulled into the former carriage house, now a fully modernized two-car garage.
“That’s what I thought, too, when I was a kid. I was always nagging my folks to go visit Grandpa and Grandma Cullen. Little did I know I’d end up living here.”
Bella wanted to ask again what happened to Edward’s parents - car accident, he’d said - but she was hesitant to bring up a sore subject. She hoped his invitation to visit his family home would prompt him to fill her in about his history without her having to pry.
She was still unlocking her seatbelt when Edward reached her car door, opening it for her like a proper gentleman. As they left the garage and followed the paved path to the side door, she was struck by the feeling she was entering a different world. A certain old-world charm clung to the house and its slightly overgrown foliage, replete with fragrant flowering shrubs and large shade trees. The stars were beginning to emerge overhead, sending showers of tiny spotlights through the sighing leaves. She reached for Edward’s hand and he grasped hers immediately, leading her down the walk.
“It’s so beautiful here. Peaceful,” she said quietly.
She saw Edward’s smile broaden in the dusk, and he squeezed her hand. “It is. That’s one of the reasons I couldn’t give it up.”
He unlocked the heavy oak door to the entryway and held it open for Bella. She stepped inside and stood on the landing, looking around in curiosity. Straight ahead, a few steps descended to a basement door; to the left, a short flight of stairs led up to the kitchen. She dutifully wiped her feet on the doormat and wondered if she should hang her backpack up on one of the coat knobs fastened to the wall next to the door.
Seconds later, mind-reader Edward told her, “You can leave your backpack here if you want.”
She laughed a little to herself as she took his suggestion. He opened his own backpack and removed the quilt, tossing it on a bench next to the basement door. “I’ll take that down to the laundry room later,” he said in explanation. Then he motioned for her to climb the stairs to the kitchen, and she obeyed. He followed close behind, flicking a light switch at the top to illuminate the room.
She gasped a little as she surveyed the brand-new granite center island with its modern bar stools, surrounded by rich cherry cabinets, steel appliances and matching light fixtures.
“This is nice,” she said at last. “A little different than what I was expecting.”
“How so?” Edward queried, a peculiar edge to his voice.
“Well, it looks so new. I thought it would be more . . . traditional.”
His smile was wry. “Most of the house is traditional. But the kitchen is brand new.” He paused and looked at Bella, his eyes hesitant, yet determined. “That’s how I found out how bad my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s was. Right at the end of my college finals, I got a call from Alice telling me Em had left lunch burning on the stove. She came home from school and found the place filled with smoke. She could see the flames from the kitchen, and she ran frantically from room to room, looking for our grandmother. She found her asleep in the downstairs guest bedroom and thankfully got her out before the smoke got to them. Afterward, Emily had no memory of putting a pan of oil on the stove to cook some French fries. She’d just wandered off and forgot she was even making lunch, apparently. She said was tired so she went to take a nap, and that was all she could remember.”
He grimaced slightly and looked around the room. “The kitchen was pretty much a loss, and the downstairs had smoke and water damage after it was all over. Thankfully the upstairs didn’t need much more than a good airing out. It took a year, but we got everything cleaned up, repaired and remodeled. Good as new. Maybe better,” he told her with a humorless laugh.
Bella didn’t know what to say. She sensed Edward wasn’t finished, so she waited, watching him as his eyes scanned the room again.
“Alice likes it. She’s not into antiques too much. I like new things, don’t get me wrong. I used to love staying in luxury hotels when I first started escorting. But they can feel sort of cold and sterile after awhile. Older things have character. Substance. They tell a story.”
Bella nodded, though she’d never given the subject much thought before. Her father’s house was a cozy, non-descript bungalow near the gloomy green depths of the Olympic Forest; while her mother’s Florida home was a typical warm-weather dwelling of stucco and tile, similar to the one they’d shared in Phoenix together when she was young. Both her parents’ homes contained a hodge-podge of garage sale finds and knock-down discount store furniture - nothing with a story to tell, that she knew of.
But when Edward motioned for her to follow him into the next room, she realized what he was talking about. Her mouth dropped as she looked around at the combination living/dining room, a large, open space anchored by impressive pieces of solid wood furniture atop gleaming hardwood floors. Her eyes roamed from a massive oak dining table with eight high-backed chairs to a huge mahogany breakfront full of beautiful antique dishes, then to an ornate coffee table with matching end tables, situated around elegant wing-backed chairs and a sofa. Even to Bella’s untrained eyes, everything in the room obviously was crafted with great skill and attention to detail. Each piece of furniture was meticulously carved with gorgeous embellishments, and glowed with the luster of repeated polishing over the course of many decades.
But the most striking thing about the room was the back wall behind the sitting area. The long, rectangular area was conspicuously empty in comparison to the adornment of the rest of the room.
Edward strolled over to the dining room table and ran his hand along the rich, glossy wood. “My great-great grandfather and his son were carpenters,” he explained, still looking at the handiwork under his fingertips. “They built this house together over eighty-five years ago, and most of the furniture in it. They had a booming business together until the Depression, when the housing market collapsed. They lost most everything, but managed to hang onto the house.”
Edward turned to Bella, his expression hard to read. “My grandfather didn’t follow in their footsteps. He was more interested in cars. He loved to take them apart and put them back together. He was a mechanic for a long time, and then went into parts sales, traveling around the area as the auto repair industry grew. He was a great guy - everybody loved him. That’s what Em always told me, anyway. She loved him, of course - probably to a fault. Because the truth was, he liked liquor and gambling almost as much as he liked cars. The liquor finally did him in - he died of liver disease before I was ever born. And I found out years later that the gambling ate up whatever money he’d made, and then some. I never knew my grandmother had mortgaged the house long ago to pay off his debts.”
Bella stood, rapt, in the middle of the room. The hush between Edward’s words felt almost sacred, like the slightest noise on her part would break the spell. He was finally opening up to her, spilling the secrets of his past, and she would do nothing to stop his flow of words now that the dam had broken.
“My uncle Carlisle was determined not to go down the destructive path his father had. Maybe that’s why he became a doctor - an internist. His younger sister - my mother - became a nurse. They both had the perfect temperament for medicine: compassionate, kind-hearted. Sometimes I think I used to fall and scrape my knees on purpose just so my mom would bandage me up,” he said with a chuckle. “She’d always tell me some little story to divert me while she was cleaning the wound, so I’d never feel the sting. And it worked.” He stopped for a moment and smiled, his eyes far away, focused on a memory. They finally returned to the present, and Bella’s patient gaze, prompting him to continue.
“She met my dad in college - they were both pre-med. He ended up being a general practitioner. He had just as good a bedside manner, but he was always a little harder on me than she was. He didn’t want me to grow up too soft or spoiled. He wanted to make sure I was self-sufficient. So he’d challenge me to figure out how to do things on my own, and then he’d help me when I really needed it. I can’t really blame him, considering how he grew up.”
Edward paused again, ruffling his hair with his fingers as he approached Bella. His eyes met hers in a strange sort of challenge that she didn’t understand at first.
“My dad was orphaned at the age of seven,” he said abruptly, his voice brittle. “He was born in Chicago. His mother got pregnant when she was a teenager, which was pretty scandalous in the 1950s. Her parents wanted her to give the baby up for adoption, but after my father was born, she couldn’t go through with it. She ended up running away with him so she could keep him, but she had no money and no skills - she’d never finished high school. Dad always told me she supported them by being a waitress, but I have my doubts about that.” He stopped and grimaced, shaking his head.
“Why?” Bella blurted, unable to stop herself. She almost clapped her hand over her mouth, she was so worried she’d ruined the moment. She didn’t want him to clam up on her now.
His face was grim, but he continued. “Because of the way she died. Her body was found in a hotel room in a seedy part of the city. There were drugs in the room; drugs in her system. She had a few bruises on her body, but they were faint, inconclusive. Her death was determined to be an overdose, but I don’t know . . . I’ve always had the feeling she was murdered. I don’t know whether she was dealing drugs or whether she was a prostitute, or a combination of the two. But whatever she was doing got her killed at the age of twenty-four.”
A chill ran down Bella’s spine. She stared up into Edward’s eyes, now oddly vacant and hard, like chips of black ice in the dim light from the chandelier over the dining room table. The similarity of twenty-four-year-old Edward’s choices to those of his grandmother was not lost on Bella. Clearly it wasn’t lost on him, either.
“My father never wanted me to know any of that, of course. And he died when I was only ten, so I had to pry the truth from Emily when I was older. But I’m glad I know. It explains a few things.” His crooked grin was sardonic. Bella wanted to protest, but stopped herself when Edward spoke.
“Don’t worry. I don’t feel doomed to repeat her mistakes, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I have to appreciate the irony of it, all the same. One of life’s little jokes.”
But neither of them was laughing.
Edward shook his head, his brows furrowing in regret. “I’m sorry, Bella. I really didn’t bring you here to dump all my family baggage on you.” He reached a gentle hand to the side of her face. “I just wanted to show you were I live, maybe explain why I love this place - why I did what I did to keep it. I’m doing a hell of a job so far, huh?” he concluded with a rueful laugh.
“You’re doing fine,” she assured him, reaching for his free hand. He took it and slid his fingers between hers, clutching them tightly. “Don’t apologize. I want to know more about you, where you came from. You have no idea how much I’ve been hoping you’d share that with me, even if it isn’t all good. Nobody has perfect families or perfect lives, you know. I like hearing about your past, even the bad stuff. It doesn’t have to ruin the present.”
Edward’s smile was genuine this time. He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb and wondered again what he’d done to deserve her.
“I already told you today that you’re amazing, right?” he asked.
That brought her smile out to join his. “Yeah, but there’s no statute of limitations on that.”
“Good. Because you are.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes for a moment. Bella kept hers open, loving the soft blur of his features so close to hers. He sighed a little, his breath warm on her skin; then he turned his face ever so slightly so that his lips could reach hers for a gentle kiss.
He wanted to say it then. He was amazed that the words were so close to the surface, so ready on the tip of his tongue.
I love you.
No, that couldn’t be true, could it? He’d known her for only sixteen days.
You’re counting the days. That’s love, idiot.
He kissed her again, letting the knowledge sink in. Letting the weight of it settle in his bones and tissues, imbuing his lips with a special reverence, a curious calm, as they caressed hers.
He pulled back slightly so his eyes could focus on hers. He wondered if she saw the words there, printed across his corneas in naked relief. He tried to read hers, hoping it was more than sympathy - or worse yet, pity - that made them shine with unshed tears. He hoped instead that something as profound as what he was feeling was the culprit.
And then she spoke, and his hopes were dashed.
“So what happened to your father after that? After your grandmother died?”
He let his hands drop, and took a step back. Her look of disappointment was reassuring, at least.
“Orphanages. A couple of sets of foster parents,” Edward answered. He felt his hand reaching for his head, fingers finding comfort in thick shanks of hair. “He studied hard and did well in school, so he had a few scholarships to help him get to college. He chose U-Dub’s pre-med program; that’s where he met my mom. They got married after they graduated, and she went to work as an RN while he finished med school. By the time he graduated, Carlisle had already been working for a few years in a medical clinic, and he managed to get my dad a position there. It was just in time, too, because my mom was pregnant with me.”
The smile that stretched across Bella’s face at those words encouraged Edward once more. “I had a pretty normal childhood. A happy one. I grew up in a little two-bedroom house in Beacon Hill. Mom worked part-time until I went to school, so she was home with me a lot. I was probably pretty spoiled, being the only kid in the family until Alice came along. I remember how excited Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme were - I guess they’d been trying for awhile and were beginning to give up hope. But Alice’s arrival changed all that. I think she came out of the womb smiling. That’s just her temperament. She always sees the good in people, always hopes for the best.”
“What about you?” Bella asked. The wistful look in his eyes gave her the answer.
“I hope to be more like Alice when I grow up,” he answered half-jokingly. He glanced around the room again, his eyes falling on the gaping hole in the corner. He frowned slightly.
“Why don’t I show you the rest of the house?” he suggested, leading Bella past the foot of a beautifully carved staircase to the family room entry. He explained that a wall had been knocked out between the former parlor and study to create another large living space, this one more eclectically furnished with comfy furniture and a big-screen TV. The far end of the room still contained vestiges of the study, including an antique roll-top desk and floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves sporting dozens of volumes, old to new.
Bella digested it all in silence, save for the occasional appreciative comment. She followed Edward to the rear terrace overlooking the Sound, gleaming darkly under the night sky, and she marveled at the view. Even more, she marveled at what this place did for Edward. “Content” wasn’t quite the right word to describe him, but there was something about the house that clearly resonated with him. She could see the deep connection he felt to it, and to his family’s past. She supposed it stemmed from having so little family history on his father’s side, and so few relatives still living. This place represented security to him, in a world where there was precious little of it.
She reached for his hand again as he guided her back to the family room, briefly showing her an offshoot to a small guest bedroom, where Emily had gone to rest after leaving the stove on that fateful day. Then he led her back to the staircase dividing the family and living rooms and asked her if she’d like to see the upstairs.
“Sure,” she answered at once, her pulse quickening. She was anxious to see Edward’s bedroom, and wondered if he would invite her to spend the night. But as she turned to follow him up the stairs, her eyes caught the yawning emptiness in the corner of the living room once more. She gasped when it struck her what had been there - what was missing from this house.
“What is it?” he asked her, stopping short at the bottom step. He caught where her gaze had fallen before she turned curious eyes to his.
“Where’s the piano, Edward?”
He wasn’t sure why the question stabbed at him the way it did, but he felt the breath leave his lungs at her words. He sagged against the railing and took a breath so he could answer.
“Remember when I said that the kitchen incident was what tipped us off to how bad my grandmother’s dementia was getting?” He shook his head. “Well, for me, it was this.” He nodded toward the empty spot. “I had just graduated from Juilliard when I came home to find the kitchen destroyed. But even that didn’t hit me like this did - this hole in the living room.”
He glanced at the empty floorboards in the corner again, not noticing Bella’s jaw drop at his words. “She forgot I was a musician. Forgot the whole reason I was away at school. One day she just looked at the piano and couldn’t figure out why we still had one. She’d never learned to play it, and my grandfather, who tinkered at it, had died long ago. So she sold it.” He let out an incredulous laugh.
“Alice hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell me yet - she could hardly believe it herself. But that’s how I knew my grandmother was really gone, or at least halfway there. Because the woman who raised me from the age of ten and encouraged me to follow my dreams never would have done such a thing. She never would have forgotten.
“But she did. She did forget. Later, when she realized what she’d done, she cried and begged me to forgive her. And that’s how it went - how it’s gone - for the past two years. She has moments of clarity, but the confusion and memory loss take their place more and more every day. I used to bring her here every Thursday so she wouldn’t forget this place. We’d look at all the old photo albums, and I’d remind her all the stories she told me about our ancestors, and how they built this house. And she’d remember, and repeat the stories, maybe even tell me some new ones, so I’d know she was still in there somewhere.
“But lately she’s afraid to leave Tranquility Gardens. She gets disoriented and doesn’t know where I’m taking her. Sometimes when she’s here, she cries because she can’t remember the things she knows she should. So I don’t bring her here as much anymore. It’s too hard on her.”
“And on you,” Bella added softly. She reached out and closed her hand around Edward’s forearm, stroking the soft brown hairs up and down. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this. It’s so much to deal with. I don’t know how you do it.”
His smile was wry. “Some would argue that I don’t deal with it very well. Alice, for one.”
“She just wants more for you, that’s all,” Bella said. She slid her hand down to his, grasping it tightly. “You never told me you went to Juilliard. That’s . . . pretty impressive, to say the least. You shouldn’t throw that away. It’s not too late, you know. I’m surprised you never replaced the piano, so you can keep playing. I know they’re expensive, but . . .” She trailed off, waiting to hear his thoughts on the matter. She couldn’t imagine ignoring that kind of education to become a glorified prostitute, no matter how dire the circumstances. But she wanted to understand, and waited for Edward’s explanation.
Edward idly played with her hand, rubbing his thumb along her palm. “After I’d made the decision to be an escort, I was glad the piano wasn’t here. It just would have been a reminder of what I’d given up. But I did start to miss it. I needed the release. Luckily, I have a friend with a piano so I can still practice. I’m rusty, but not as much as I might have been otherwise.”
He paused, wondering if he could ever make Bella understand why he’d done the crazy thing he did to survive. He wasn’t sure he understood it himself.
“When I ran into Emmett McCarty - the Enforcer, remember? - I was kind of in panic mode. I didn’t know how I was going to afford to fix the kitchen, or even save the house from foreclosure by the bank. Long story short, my grandmother’s finances were a mess. All her insurance policies had lapsed, she had two mortgages on the house, and she was in need of twenty-four-hour supervision. I didn’t know how to handle any of it. When Emmett told me how much money he was making, it was an eye opener. It looked like the golden ticket to me at the time.
“I didn’t think about his offer for very long. I knew if I did, I’d talk myself out of doing it. So I took the job and tried not to look back. I told myself it was a dream job, anyway - getting paid to date women. And if I got no-strings sex out of the deal, even better.”
Edward stopped to gauge her reaction; to watch the look of discontent furrow her pretty features. He reached one hand up in an attempt to smooth them.
“I’m no saint, Bella. I didn’t mind being an escort at first. I even enjoyed it sometimes. But by the time I met you, I didn’t really feel much of anything anymore. The numbness was easier to take. Complacency made it easier for me to just keep doing what I was doing. And I won’t lie, I liked the money. I liked being able to keep this place in the family, and being able to take care of Emily and Alice the way they deserved. I promised my father I would.”
Bella shook her head sadly. “What about what you deserve?”
Edward’s snort was derisive. “I lived a lot of years in ignorance, not knowing how my grandmother was struggling to make ends meet. She protected me from that and allowed me to selfishly pursue my dreams. So now it’s time for me to put her first.”
Bella could hear the conviction in his words; could see the stubborn determination in the set of his jaw. No wonder Alice had failed to get him to look for another way. He’d already found a solution, and in a twisted way, he thought he deserved to pay the price for it.
Edward sighed and gave her hand a squeeze. He began to ascend the stairs, gently pulling her along. Halfway up, he paused at a series of framed photos stair-stepping up the plaster wall beside them. At the bottom were typically stoic black-and-white portraits of his ancestors, starting with his great-great-grandparents. In the middle were his grandparents, captured in their youth, attractive and smart-looking in their 1940s styles. She wondered what Emily looked like now. She would be near eighty, Bella guessed.
As they neared the top of the stairs, the last two photographs greeting them were more recent family portraits, their vibrant colors mildly faded by the passage of the past decade or two.
“That’s my Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme, with Alice - I think she was about three years old there. And that’s me, when I was eight, with my parents - Edward, Senior and Elizabeth.”
“You’re a Junior?” Bella commented, studying the portraits. “Look how cute you were! And your mom and dad - so good-looking. Your aunt and uncle, too.” She leaned in and looked more closely at Edward’s parents. “You have your father’s jaw and eyebrows. But the rest of your face is a dead-ringer for your mother’s. You look just like her.”
“So I’ve been told,” he agreed with a smile.
“You said Carlisle was your mother’s older brother, right? But that makes her maiden name Cullen.” She thought back to Edward’s good-luck charm, still tucked into the corner of her desk calendar. “The painting she did, with the four-leaf clover, was signed E. Masen. If that was her married name, then that makes you . . .” she trailed off as the puzzle pieces of Edward’s identity came together.
“A Masen,” he finished for her. “I’ve thought about legally changing my name to Cullen. Masen was my grandmother’s last name. I don’t even know the name of my grandfather, because she never revealed it to my dad. So we both grew up as Masens. My real name is Edward Masen.”
His last sentence came out quiet and uncertain; a tentative introduction. Bella took him up on it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Edward Masen,” she replied just as softly. She squeezed his hand tightly, an intimate handshake, and he almost felt as if he and Bella were meeting for the first time.
She definitely felt like she had just met him today, in more ways than she could have anticipated. But there was still one piece missing before the puzzle of Edward Masen, Junior was complete.
“What happened to them?” she asked, her words whisper-light, yet seeming to echo in the staircase around them. She looked back at the happy faces of Edward and Elizabeth, Carlisle and Esme, and braced herself for the tale of their unhappy end.
Edward braced himself, too. He sat down on the top step and motioned for Bella to join him. “My father and my uncle decided to open their own practice together. They bought a small office on Pill Hill - that’s what they call First Hill, because of all the medical centers there - and they had just remodeled it to open a family practice in November of ‘97. They decided to have an open house for the place, inviting all their patients and friends in the medical profession to come visit. It was an early Friday evening, but they thought it would be boring for Alice and me, so Emily offered to skip the open house and watch us instead. Our parents dropped us off here, then all left in Carlisle’s SUV together.”
He paused while Bella waited, her apprehension growing. She found herself gripping his hand a little too hard and tried to relax her fingers.
“They made it to the office just fine, but then a freak ice storm hit. Forecasters had missed it; they said we’d have a slight chance of snow. It started up right before the open house was over, so my folks and aunt and uncle closed early and decided to come home. But it wasn’t soon enough. They were on Highway 5 headed north when they lost control on the ice and slid into a semi.”
Bella was holding her breath now and gripping his hand even tighter, despite her efforts not to. He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were far away as he continued.
“The front of the car was crushed. Carlisle and Esme were already gone by the time the paramedics arrived. But my parents survived for a little while longer. Long enough for us to say our good-byes. Long enough for my father to tell me that I was the man of the house now, and I would need to be strong and take care of my grandmother and my cousin.”
Bella finally let out a long, shaky breath. “Edward . . .” She stopped, afraid to say what she was thinking. She looked up into his face, a mask of stoicism; but he couldn’t hide the pain that sharpened his eyes to flint. She turned her body toward his on the stairs, making him look at her before she spoke her mind.
“You were only ten years old. Who was strong for you?”
The pain flashed through his eyes again, softening them this time. Tears formed, but he didn’t let them fall. “Em was. She was the strong one. The adult, the caretaker - the only one left. But now it’s my turn.”
Bella shook her head. She’d always known Edward was serious about his responsibilities, but she’d never known to what extent. She mustered her courage and hoped she could stand behind the words she was about to say.
“Well, if it helps any, you’re not in this alone anymore.”
Edward searched her eyes for the truth. Could she really be there for him, no matter what? No matter how long it took for him to find his way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into?
“I can’t ask you to -”
But Bella cut him off. “You don’t have to ask. I’m telling you I’m here for you. If you want me,” she added uncertainly.
He stared at her in disbelief. “If I want you?” he repeated hoarsely, making sure she understood how ludicrous her words were. He let go of her hand so he could grasp her face in both of his. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted anything so much.”
His mouth claimed hers then, but the prize was already won. She yielded immediately, giving in to his kiss, greedily taking and returning his passion in equal measure. Their kisses multiplied as they grasped at one another, clutching hair and clothes and warm skin, under the watchful two-dimensional eyes of Cullens and Masens past.
When at last they broke apart for air, Edward realized Bella’s tour of his home was now ready to come to its logical conclusion.
“Would you like to see my bedroom, Miss Swan?”
She looked into his heavy-lidded gaze, and her slow grin matched his. “I would love to see your bedroom, Mister Masen.”
A strange thrill shot through him at the sound of his real name spoken in Bella’s sexy alto. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman had uttered it. Maybe none had. Edward Cullen was the only incarnation who had dated any women for over two years now. For Edward Masen, this experience was brand new.
He stood and reached for her hand once more, helping her to her feet. After briefly pointing out the doorways of Alice’s and Emily’s bedrooms, he led her to his own. But instead of turning on the garish ceiling light, he reached for the nearest lamp, a small fixture atop his desk near the door. One turn of the switch cast a deep amber glow throughout the room, at once soothing and seductive.
“This is my room,” he hesitantly announced, waiting for the only judgment that mattered.
Even in the ambient light, it was easy to see that Edward’s room contained more beautiful pieces of antique furniture. The dresser, chest and desk were all constructed of matching lustrous dark wood. But by far the most impressive piece in the room was the huge four-poster bed that loomed before her.
She was still gaping at it when she felt Edward’s arms circle her waist, pulling her close.
“Do you like it?” came the velvet voice in her ear seconds later. His breath on her neck sent the usual tremors down her spine, and she wondered if she would ever be immune. She hoped not.
“I love it.” I love you, was what she really wanted to say. This beautiful house and its furnishings would mean nothing to her if they didn’t mean so much to him. But as symbols of something solid and enduring, she could appreciate them almost as much as Edward did. She could even envy them a little because of his regard for them. She longed to make that bed jealous by stealing every ounce of his affection and holding it hostage. Right now, Bella wanted nothing more than for Edward to make love to her in the middle of that enormous antique until all four posts shook with fury at their passion.
His lips were on her neck now, soft and warm and wet. They mimicked the flesh between her thighs, already aroused and craving his kisses. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the broad hardness of his chest. She sighed, remembering that first night with him . . . the unexpected intimacy of a stranger’s touch; the freedom of surrender to its inexplicable power.
“Make me feel it again,” she whispered. She wondered if he would know what she meant.
He knew all too well. He was right there with her, remembering the silky blue dress, feeling it now between his fingertips as he caressed the cotton of her t-shirt. He pulled at it, baring her shoulder, and recalled the sun gleaming off of her ivory skin. She was dusky peach now in the lamp light, and tasted just as sweet to his searching lips. Her head lolled against his; her hair smelled of the beach. He buried his face in the wind-whipped strands and inhaled deeply. The undeniable urge gripped him again - the need to lose himself in her, to burrow deep and live in her warmth.
He pulled the clothes from her body with an impatience he could no longer suppress. She had made him reckless that first night, and every time he’d seen her since, so it should have been no surprise that she had him on his knees the minute he got her alone in his bedroom.
And that’s exactly where he found himself moments later: on his knees amidst a pile of discarded clothes, clutching Bella’s beautiful ass cheeks in his greedy fingers, his face buried deep between them. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten her to the edge of the bed. Yet there she stood, her hands grasping the nearest bedpost, hanging on for dear life while he devoured her sex from behind with a hunger he could not contain. This was the dessert he’d been fantasizing about all through dinner, watching her give him that sexy, knowing smile across the table; remembering those lips wrapped around him, drinking him down.
And now he took his fill of her juicy flesh, sweet and tangy and more delicious than any girl had a right to be. He nipped at her ripe cheeks; pulled at her soft lips with his own. He tongued the steamy entrances to her body, back and forth, up and down, in and out, until her gasps turned to sobs. Those were his favorite sound: the cries of a pleasure that was too intense - the cries that begged him to stop, yet never stop. The sounds a woman made when teetering on the edge of no return. That was the ultimate destination, and he’d taken her there.
He paused, breathing heavily against her sex; and she sobbed again, her body quivering. He gazed up at her and found her utterly glorious: thighs parted, back arched, hair swaying gently across her back with each panting breath as she clutched the bedpost in both hands and waited for more. The truth struck him in that moment: she loved his impatience. Loved his hunger. Loved his need. She loved making him lose control, and loved him taking it back.
Maybe she even loved him.
He let his hands wander from the perfect globes of flesh they’d been cradling and let them caress the rest of her, up and down: the line of her long legs, the smoothness of her belly, the rigid peaks of her breasts. He was rewarded with her sighs and soft moans, so he continued on, tracing the length of her spine until he was back where he started. He massaged her sweet cheeks again, working his way between them until he found the slippery entrance. And now he would bring her to the brink once more.
Her whimpers started up again as he teased her with his fingers, probing gently, dipping in and out with a tantalizing rhythm that served to ramp up her frustration. She was soon pushing rhythmically against his hand, pulling his fingers in deeper.
“That’s it,” he murmured softly, reaching his free hand down to stroke his erection. He worked both hands together, gently fingering her in time with the motion of his fist pumping his cock. He was beginning to make the same desperate sounds she was, but he wanted her to be the first to crack. He needed her to want it, to want him, as much as he did her.
His fingers were moving rapidly against her pussy now, working her clit before plunging in deep, and then starting over again. Her cries increased with his pace until she was shaking and clinging to the bedpost. He was near the breaking point himself, growling like an animal, ready to throw her on the bed and take her before she climaxed all over his hand instead of his desperate cock.
“Edward!” she finally gasped in a broken sob. “Please . . .”
He stilled his hand at once, two fingers still buried knuckle deep inside her.
“Please what?” he demanded hoarsely.
“Fuck me,” she moaned, and he couldn’t tell if it was a plea or a command. “Give me your cock. I want your cock. . .”
But he was already on his feet, sweeping her off hers to the waiting bed. Covers down; pillows found. He was on her, she was under him, and they were both delirious at the connection. As unhinged as he had just made her with his oral skills, it couldn’t compare to the feel of every inch of his skin pressed against hers, their flesh and bone creating a symphony of movement together. She craved the intoxication of his breath mingling with hers, the thick silk of his hair between her fingers, the trails of wildfire his hands left wherever they roamed. But most of all, she loved his eyes on her. His eyes said the things his lips could not.
His eyes told her the truth.
She looked for it now, between ravenous kisses and lust-filled groping. And sure enough, she saw what she’d always seen: a certain reverence, maybe even awe. Like her presence was a gift he was surprised, even baffled, to have received. But she saw something else this time - something new.
Acceptance.
He was no longer debating whether or not he wanted this gift, or deserved it, or should refuse it. Instead he was embracing it, literally and figuratively. He held nothing back now. His body moved in sensual abandon with hers, its natural rhythms propelling him into her and all around her, limbs encasing, hands and lips caressing everywhere they could reach.
He spoke now in whispers washing over her, his words spilling out in an unconscious stream. Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about you . . . how much I’ve wanted you? . . . I can’t fucking shake you . . . I don’t want to . . . You’re like a drug to me. . . so beautiful . . . You’re in here, so deep . . .
She was drowning in his words, swimming in their lyrical cadence. She undulated to his rhythms, her body dancing with his, rising to meet his slow thrusts. Taking him deep inside . . . so deep.
She gasped at the sudden realization of what was happening. Edward was fucking her, and it didn’t hurt. She felt many things, but pain wasn’t one of them. Pain was the furthest thing from her mind. She gazed up at the tenderness in his eyes and felt a different kind of ecstasy than she’d ever known before. It had nothing, and everything, to do with the physical act taking place between them. It was the joining of so much more than flesh. It thrilled her, completed her, scared her to death. When she’d signed that agreement, she never knew she’d signed up for this - this all-encompassing, life-altering connection to another human being.
But as she wrapped her limbs around him, she knew she was clinging to a force greater than anything she dreamed even existed. She groaned when he impaled her, but they were very different groans from the ones her virgin lips had emitted two weeks ago. Now they were of her own acceptance, then transcendence. Each thrust of Edward’s cock inside her seemed to drive her out of her body, onto some elevated plane she didn’t recognize.
She heard desperate words fill the air, but from her own mouth this time. Begging him for more. Faster. Deeper. Harder. God, you feel so good . . . so good . . .
He was repeating the same grunting mantra as he drilled her, driving her to the head of the bed. She felt amazing to him. So responsive this time, so uninhibited. He wondered if she’d been practicing with those crazy things the doctor gave her. Surely not. But whatever the reason, she was free with him now in a way he’d never seen, urging him on, pulling him so deep that their skin smacked together and her body lurched beneath him with every thrust. He grabbed the headboard to steady himself, to keep from pounding her right into the ebony wood.
“Fuck,” was all he could mutter as he lost himself in the wetness of her tight walls gripping him. And then, through the frenzy of lust, it hit him why this was so different - why she felt so incredible, so mind-blowing - and it wasn’t just because he loved her.
“Oh no,” he whispered at the realization. He slowed his pace, his eyes growing round with dread as he stared down at Bella’s euphoric, innocent face.
“What?” she asked, her forehead creasing at the lull in his affection.
“Protection,” he croaked. “I forgot - I’m not wearing - shit,” he muttered. “Shit.”
And suddenly Bella was cold and empty while Edward dug frantically in the top drawer of his bed stand. She watched relief flood his face when he found a colorful wrapper conformed around the tell-tale ring of the condom within. She knew she should feel relieved, too - after all, it was for her protection - but she could only cringe at the sight of the thing.
“What is it?” he asked when he noticed her reaction. “You aren’t worried this is going to chafe you again, are you? I probably have some lube in here, too,” he said, diving for the bed stand again.
“No, it’s not that,” she said, sitting up and grabbing his arm to pull him back. “Well, maybe it is, a little. But mostly it’s . . . I don’t want to ruin what we just had going,” she admitted, stroking his arm as she looked up into his confused face. “It was so perfect. You felt so good. I want to feel you, not a rubber glove inside me.”
His half-grin was one of frustration. “You realize I want that too, don’t you? But they make these things so thin now, it’s really not like that,” he argued, referring to the foil packet he still clutched in one hand. “It’ll be good, I promise you. Let me find some lube and we can get pick up right where we left off.”
Her frown only deepened. “But we don’t need it. It’s way too late in my cycle for me to get pregnant. And I’m like clockwork, trust me,” she insisted.
“Spoken like a thousand other girls who ended up with unwanted pregnancies,” he said with a sigh. “Come on. Don’t be careless.”
“I’m not being careless,” she retorted, trying not to sound like a petulant child. “I just want this to be different. I want us to be different.”
Edward reached gentle fingers up to touch her cheek. “We are different. I know you have no good reason to believe me, but it’s true.”
“I do believe you,” she said. She pressed the side of her face into his hand, and his caress deepened. “You always use condoms, don’t you?”
He winced at her reference to the other times - the other women. He did not want to bring them into this house, and certainly not into this bed.
“Always,” he answered.
“Then be different with me.”
“Bella,” he said in exasperation. She closed her hand over his, then turned her face to kiss his palm.
“Please,” she begged, her chocolate eyes his undoing.
“I can’t,” he answered hoarsely, watching as she moved her lips to his wrist and pressed their pink satin against his pulse.
“You can,” she rebuked him quietly. She kissed her way up his arm, dismantling his armor. By the time her lips reached his ear, the battle was lost.
“Pull out before you come,” she whispered, her breath tickling his skin and snaking possessively down his spine.
His groan was one of submission; her faint grin was victorious. They fell back to the sheets and into one another’s arms. Edward was right - they quickly picked up where they’d left off, yearning bodies uniting in one effortless desire. But Bella was right, too. It was different with no barriers between them. Hungry flesh merged with raw and palpable urgency; fevered eyes met with naked honesty. There was nowhere to hide now. Nothing to do but trust one another.
Edward gripped the headboard in one hand again as he pumped into her with long, deliberate strokes, burying himself to the hilt before drawing out and thrusting deep again. Bella gasped at the intensity, but still tilted her hips upward to meet each thrust with her own. She grabbed his ass to make sure he gave her every inch of his cock, crying out softly at the impact deep within. The slow burn began - she could feel it coming. She was coming. Coming to meet him at last - to match his desire, his need, his ecstasy with her own.
Edward felt it too, and tried to hold back. But, dear God, she was so stunning at that moment . . . so gorgeous beneath him, red-lipped and flushed pink all over, panting and glistening with sweat . . . so wild and free, grabbing his ass and ramming him into her . . . dear God, that was hot. Too hot. She looked and felt so fucking good it almost brought tears to his eyes. Damn it, it was too much - he couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to come. Now.
He wrenched his body free of her grasping fingers right before his dick erupted. He grabbed it in one hand and frantically stroked his shaft right at its tender tip, moaning loudly at the sensation as he shot milky threads of cum all over her belly.
Bella had no time to be shocked at his sudden exit from her body. The nerve endings within her were already firing, already starting the chain reaction that would push the gathering blood from her engorged flesh. Her muscles clenched together in the first wave of her orgasm right after Edward pulled out, then quaked with shockwaves in perfect time to Edward’s ejaculations. She watched in wonder as her pelvis lifted to meet each emission. Their moans of pleasure created a perfect duet in the amber-tinted air; her painted belly became an erotic work of art.
They both stared at it, and then into each other’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Edward apologized.
Bella gazed up at him and shook her head at how differently they saw things.
“That’s too bad,” she said softly. “I’m not sorry at all.”
Monday, August 20, 2012
Chapter 28
“This one turned out really good.”
Bella held her phone up to Edward, who took a quick glance and smiled at the image before aiming his eyes back at the road before them.
“I’m glad we finally made it out to the lighthouse,” he said. “The view is pretty amazing from there.”
“Yeah, it is,” Bella agreed, flipping through the photos on her phone’s touch screen. “We were lucky to come across that jogger - it was nice of him to stop and take pictures of us together.”
Edward nodded. “You’ll have to email them to me.”
Bella fiddled with her phone for a few minutes, forwarding the pictures one by one: the two of them close together, arms around each other, with the scenic lighthouse and impending sunset as their backdrop; the one of her holding up a giant shell to her ear to hear the telltale waves; the one of Edward posing atop a giant boulder like some explorer who’d conquered a new world.
“Done,” she announced when the photos were sent.
“Thanks.”
Bella stared at Edward as the sun descended behind him, casting his profile in stark and regal relief, like the bust on a coin. She wondered if she would always be this mesmerized by him. Surely that would fade as familiarity replaced novelty. But right now, she couldn’t imagine it.
“So, why won’t you tell me where you’re taking me to dinner?” she asked as they headed north toward the city.
“I told you, it’s a surprise.” His grin was positively impish.
“Well, I hope it’s no place too fancy, considering how I look.” She began searching her backpack for a brush to tame her beach hair, blowing about her face once more in wild abandon.
“You look gorgeous,” Edward answered without missing a beat. His eyes raked over her disheveled clothes, but she knew he was seeing her bikini, and what lay beneath, in his mind’s eye.
Heat seeped into Bella’s cheeks as she recalled their sexual tryst on the beach. She didn’t know what had made her so bold, going down on him like that in public, even if they were mostly hidden from view. She only knew she didn’t want to leave him unsatisfied, not after the dizzying heights to which he’d driven her once more with just a few well-placed fingers.
“I had fun today,” she said, wondering if her blush would give her away her meaning. “Thanks for taking me to Discovery Park.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he answered, his smirk implying that he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you. But it was our pleasure. We’re in this together,” she reminded him.
His expression turned more serious as he turned grateful eyes to hers. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that? I’m a lucky guy.”
She gave him that little Mona Lisa smile again. “Yeah, you are.”
He chuckled and nodded as he steered them toward the twinkling lights of the city.
# # # # # # # # # #
Alice Cullen’s ass had been buzzing all night.
Well, it was her left butt cheek, to be exact. That was the pants pocket which held her phone, set to vibrate. Her right back pocket was reserved for her order pad. She’d never quite mastered the art of memorizing her customers’ menu selections, so she diligently wrote down their choices in a messy shorthand of her own design, complete with cues as to which dish went with which customer. Luckily Sophia and the sous chefs at Mama Giana’s Ristorante were adept at deciphering her scribbles.
She stuffed her latest order sheet into the carousel above the warming station, then reached eagerly for her phone. The text was a simple one, but made her perma-grin widen.
I’ll bet you look cute in your uniform. Describe it to me again.
Grandma Em had always told her the shy ones were the ones you had to watch out for, and Jasper Whitlock was turning out to be no exception.
Short-sleeved peasant blouse, cut just low enough to get me some extra tip money, she typed back as quickly as her thumbs would allow. Black slacks. Pretty basic.
I’m definitely coming in some night to see it. I might turn out to be a very generous tipper.
Alice nearly jumped up and down at that response. Well, I’m here until closing tonight. Otherwise you’ll have to wait until Wednesday for my next shift. She almost added, “How’s that for being direct?”
She stared at the screen impatiently for a full minute, waiting for Jasper’s reply. She was about to give up and stuff the phone back in her pocket when it buzzed once more in the palm of her hand.
I’m on my way.
Alice practically bounced back to the restaurant floor, giddy with excitement. She hadn’t seen Jasper since Thursday, when she’d met him for lunch between classes at a burger joint near the quad. They had shared their experiences of their first week at U-Dub over a giant order of chili cheese fries. They’d lingered over each bite, talking more than eating, neither very anxious to get to their next class. By the time they were forced to leave, he’d finally, somewhat bashfully, asked her what she was doing this weekend. She had regretfully informed him she was working at the restaurant every night. He’d looked as disappointed as she felt. Two hours later, after their classes were through, she received her first text message from him, asking her how it went. Her ass had been vibrating with Jasper Whitlock’s words ever since.
“Couple at Booth Five,” said Deb, the hostess, as she passed Alice on the way to the kitchen.
“I’m on it,” Alice chirped. She decided she’d better dial it down a notch so her next customers wouldn’t think she’d been free-basing out in the alley on her break.
She grabbed two menus and wove her way around the tables to the far side of restaurant where the cozier booths were situated. Booth Five was one of the smaller, more secluded spots usually requested by couples who wanted a romantic evening together. She wondered if she could get Jasper seated back here, and then spend her break with him.
She was plotting the maneuver in her head as she whipped around the corner to the opening of the booth, brandishing her menus.
“Hi, I’m Alice and I’ll be your server this eve---”
But her words were cut off by the blunt impact of surprise at who she found looking up at her. First she saw the enormous brown eyes of the cashier from the bookstore - the one Edward had a thing for - staring up at her in equal shock. Then her focus quickly jumped across the table to none other than Edward himself, looking a little sheepish, and a lot expectant.
Alice wasted scant time gawking at them both before exclaiming, “Get out! I can’t believe you’re here. Together. The two of you. On a date.” She said the last word with the incredulity it deserved, but then realized she might be blowing things for her cousin. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that. At all. I think it’s great, in fact.”
Edward cringed slightly. “Everybody’s got to eat, right?” he downplayed. “And Sophia makes the best Italian food in the city. I take it you remember Bella from the bookstore, right?”
“Yeah, of course!” she exclaimed with a smile at Bella, who gave her one in return. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, but this first week of school kind of put me on overload, you know?”
“Oh, I know. It’s overwhelming at first. But you’ll get into the routine soon enough,” Bella said in assurance. “Call me anytime, though. Especially if you have any questions about classes or anything.”
“Thanks, I will. We’ll have to get together sometime, for sure.” She shot Edward a look, trying to discern his feelings on the matter. The small but pleased grin on his face nearly floored her. She hadn’t seen that expression since the last piano recital he’d done before going to Julliard. The appreciative crowd had given him a standing ovation, and though his face had been composed to express modest appreciation, his uncontainable grin had belied his struggle to keep from bursting at the seams with pride and happiness.
Alice looked at Bella once more, marveling at how she had accomplished such a feat. She had made her cousin happy again.
Bella was positively beaming herself, for that matter. “Yeah, we should hang out,” she told Alice. “I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.” Her gaze drifted back to Edward’s, and her eyebrow raised mischievously. It looked like Bella Swan was ready to hear more about Edward Masen - if she even knew that was his real last name. And Alice was more than happy to give her an earful.
Edward colored slightly, perhaps realizing the can of worms he might be opening by encouraging the two girls to get together. “Great,” he said at last in resignation.
Alice chuckled and handed them their menus, then recited the evening specials for them. She already knew Edward would want the lasagna, but she figured she might entice his date into something more adventurous.
“The crab agnolotti sounds good. I think I’ll have that,” Bella decided after Alice was finished.
“Oh, it is! It’s delicious,” Alice enthused, scribbling the item on her pad. She was about to ask what they’d like to drink when her cousin stunned her for the second time that evening.
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same,” Edward announced. “And we’ll have a bottle of the house pinot grigio to go with it.”
Alice gaped at him dumbly like he’d given her the entire order in Italian.
“What, no lasagna?” she finally asked with a laugh. “Sophia will be crushed.”
Edward only smiled. “Well, maybe it’s time for me to change it up a little. Try something new.”
He and Bella seemed to exchange a conspiratorial look, like they had a special secret between them. Alice stared at them for a long moment before adding a “2” in front of the agnolotti order on her ticket. She then retrieved their menus and left the duo alone in their bubble of obvious mutual attraction.
She spent the next twenty minutes subtly eavesdropping on them while she waited on other customers. The two had clammed up when she served their wine, and then their meals, so she had to resort to sneakier methods. She wasn’t interested in the topics of conversation so much as Edward’s behavior. Though Alice had never seen him working as an escort, thank God, she knew he had a coolly charming persona that he could put on at will, like the suits he donned before leaving the house. She’d seen that side of him whenever she’d been able to attend his music concerts - the veneer of the consummate professional hiding a bundle of nerves and latent insecurities within. He used to throw up sometimes before performances when he was younger. But onstage, you’d never know it. He always appeared calm and unflappable, the picture of confidence.
But she soon discerned that Edward did not use this mask with Bella. His smiles and laughter were genuine, as was his obvious affection. Every time Alice glanced at their table, she was struck by how at ease her cousin looked. How like himself he was. His old self, before the demands of everyday life had thrown him off track. She overheard him joke about dunking Bella in the Sound, claiming he never would have gone through with it - that her shrieks when he threw her over his shoulder and waded out knee-deep into the water were entertaining enough. She thought she heard Bella say something like, “I have better ways of entertaining you,” which made Edward’s eyebrow shoot skyward as he agreed that she certainly did.
Wow. This is serious, Alice realized. Not because of the apparent physical intimacy, but the emotional closeness. Edward was all in. She’d never seen him like this with anyone before. A glimmer of hope flooded her, like the sun breaking through the cracks in a cloudy sky. This girl really was the key to Edward making a change for the better. Alice was suddenly certain the tiny brunette sitting across from him would be able to succeed where she’d failed, and give him a reason to quit selling himself to others.
Alice hummed happily to herself as she rang up Edward and Bella’s order. She was heading back to their table when a familiar tall, blond drink of water entered the restaurant. Happiness turned to elation at the sight of Jasper Whitlock’s broad grin and quick wave when he saw her. She waved back and grabbed Deb, who was already on her way to greet him.
“Seat him at Booth Six,” Alice whispered to the hostess.
Deb glanced at the handsome young man, then at her co-worker. “Sure thing,” she said with a wink.
By the time Alice got to Booth Five, Edward and Bella looked anxious to leave. They rose from their seats immediately when she tried to give Edward his change. He shooed her hand away and told her to buy herself a hot fudge sundae - her favorite - later.
“Thanks,” she told him, pocketing the change. “Speaking of which, are you sure you two don’t want to order dessert? The tiramisu here is to die for.”
Edward and Bella shared that same private-joke look as before, and Alice was still fascinated by the sight of it.
“No, I think we’re finished here,” he said, after Bella shook her head in refusal.
“The dinner was delicious, though, really,” she assured Alice, finally tearing her eyes away from Edward’s. “Please tell the chef how good it was.”
“I will, now that you’re leaving,” Alice replied. She shot her cousin a look. “I didn’t tell Sophia you were here with a date so she wouldn’t do anything crazy, like spit in your food.”
Bella frowned and gave them both a quizzical look. “I’ll explain in the car,” Edward told her.
As they all turned to leave, they nearly bumped into the hostess leading Jasper to his table. Alice intercepted, grabbing him by the arm to stop him.
“I’m glad you came,” she told him, giving his bicep a squeeze. “Jasper, this is my cousin, Edward, and his date, Bella. This is Jasper Whitlock. I met him in the bookstore last week - he just transferred here from Texas Tech.”
They all said hello, while the males shook hands and sized each other up. Both Edward and Jasper were similar in stature and build; they even had matching crooked grins. But while Jasper’s was conciliatory, Edward’s was wary. He was clearly protective of his baby cousin, but Jasper understood why. Alice had filled him in on a brief family history, enough for him to know Edward was a brother and caretaker to her, and the only real family she had.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jasper told him in his most polite southern drawl. “Alice has been kind enough to show me the ropes around campus, since I’m new. She’s a special girl.”
Edward gave him a brief smile, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That she is,” he agreed. His expression seemed to add, “And don’t you forget it.”
Alice was grateful for Deb’s interruption as she showed Jasper to the booth behind them.
“Geez, Edward, you could have been a little nicer,” Alice hissed, giving him a quick whack on the arm. “I like him. He’s a good guy.”
“I hope so,” her cousin replied. “If not, he’ll have to answer to me.”
Alice rolled her eyes at his macho posturing. Bella seemed to find the whole thing amusing, though she gave her a sympathetic look as she followed Edward to the door.
“I’ll call you soon,” Alice hollered after her with a wave. She decided she was going to make good on her promise this time. Not only could Bella help her coax Edward to look for some alternatives to his current job, but she might be able to help soften his attitude toward Jasper.
She turned her attention to the broadly grinning Texan awaiting her in the next booth. After handing him a menu with an exaggerated sweep of her hand, she recited the day’s specials once more. He ordered the linguini and clams with a Goose Island beer.
“And can I get you an appetizer of some kind?” she added, deliberately leaning over the table to flash him a little cleavage as she took his menu.
His hungry eyes lingered over her enticements for a moment before returning to her inquisitive gaze.
“You do know how to whet a man’s appetite, Miss Cullen,” he said with a lazy grin. “I’ll take an order of whatever you recommend.”
Her grin was not nearly so slow to arrive as his. “I’ll have the chef whip up something special for you.”
“Sounds great. Surprise me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Forget the left butt cheek, she thought. Alice’s entire body was vibrating this time as she bounced back to the kitchen.
Bella held her phone up to Edward, who took a quick glance and smiled at the image before aiming his eyes back at the road before them.
“I’m glad we finally made it out to the lighthouse,” he said. “The view is pretty amazing from there.”
“Yeah, it is,” Bella agreed, flipping through the photos on her phone’s touch screen. “We were lucky to come across that jogger - it was nice of him to stop and take pictures of us together.”
Edward nodded. “You’ll have to email them to me.”
Bella fiddled with her phone for a few minutes, forwarding the pictures one by one: the two of them close together, arms around each other, with the scenic lighthouse and impending sunset as their backdrop; the one of her holding up a giant shell to her ear to hear the telltale waves; the one of Edward posing atop a giant boulder like some explorer who’d conquered a new world.
“Done,” she announced when the photos were sent.
“Thanks.”
Bella stared at Edward as the sun descended behind him, casting his profile in stark and regal relief, like the bust on a coin. She wondered if she would always be this mesmerized by him. Surely that would fade as familiarity replaced novelty. But right now, she couldn’t imagine it.
“So, why won’t you tell me where you’re taking me to dinner?” she asked as they headed north toward the city.
“I told you, it’s a surprise.” His grin was positively impish.
“Well, I hope it’s no place too fancy, considering how I look.” She began searching her backpack for a brush to tame her beach hair, blowing about her face once more in wild abandon.
“You look gorgeous,” Edward answered without missing a beat. His eyes raked over her disheveled clothes, but she knew he was seeing her bikini, and what lay beneath, in his mind’s eye.
Heat seeped into Bella’s cheeks as she recalled their sexual tryst on the beach. She didn’t know what had made her so bold, going down on him like that in public, even if they were mostly hidden from view. She only knew she didn’t want to leave him unsatisfied, not after the dizzying heights to which he’d driven her once more with just a few well-placed fingers.
“I had fun today,” she said, wondering if her blush would give her away her meaning. “Thanks for taking me to Discovery Park.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he answered, his smirk implying that he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you. But it was our pleasure. We’re in this together,” she reminded him.
His expression turned more serious as he turned grateful eyes to hers. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that? I’m a lucky guy.”
She gave him that little Mona Lisa smile again. “Yeah, you are.”
He chuckled and nodded as he steered them toward the twinkling lights of the city.
# # # # # # # # # #
Alice Cullen’s ass had been buzzing all night.
Well, it was her left butt cheek, to be exact. That was the pants pocket which held her phone, set to vibrate. Her right back pocket was reserved for her order pad. She’d never quite mastered the art of memorizing her customers’ menu selections, so she diligently wrote down their choices in a messy shorthand of her own design, complete with cues as to which dish went with which customer. Luckily Sophia and the sous chefs at Mama Giana’s Ristorante were adept at deciphering her scribbles.
She stuffed her latest order sheet into the carousel above the warming station, then reached eagerly for her phone. The text was a simple one, but made her perma-grin widen.
I’ll bet you look cute in your uniform. Describe it to me again.
Grandma Em had always told her the shy ones were the ones you had to watch out for, and Jasper Whitlock was turning out to be no exception.
Short-sleeved peasant blouse, cut just low enough to get me some extra tip money, she typed back as quickly as her thumbs would allow. Black slacks. Pretty basic.
I’m definitely coming in some night to see it. I might turn out to be a very generous tipper.
Alice nearly jumped up and down at that response. Well, I’m here until closing tonight. Otherwise you’ll have to wait until Wednesday for my next shift. She almost added, “How’s that for being direct?”
She stared at the screen impatiently for a full minute, waiting for Jasper’s reply. She was about to give up and stuff the phone back in her pocket when it buzzed once more in the palm of her hand.
I’m on my way.
Alice practically bounced back to the restaurant floor, giddy with excitement. She hadn’t seen Jasper since Thursday, when she’d met him for lunch between classes at a burger joint near the quad. They had shared their experiences of their first week at U-Dub over a giant order of chili cheese fries. They’d lingered over each bite, talking more than eating, neither very anxious to get to their next class. By the time they were forced to leave, he’d finally, somewhat bashfully, asked her what she was doing this weekend. She had regretfully informed him she was working at the restaurant every night. He’d looked as disappointed as she felt. Two hours later, after their classes were through, she received her first text message from him, asking her how it went. Her ass had been vibrating with Jasper Whitlock’s words ever since.
“Couple at Booth Five,” said Deb, the hostess, as she passed Alice on the way to the kitchen.
“I’m on it,” Alice chirped. She decided she’d better dial it down a notch so her next customers wouldn’t think she’d been free-basing out in the alley on her break.
She grabbed two menus and wove her way around the tables to the far side of restaurant where the cozier booths were situated. Booth Five was one of the smaller, more secluded spots usually requested by couples who wanted a romantic evening together. She wondered if she could get Jasper seated back here, and then spend her break with him.
She was plotting the maneuver in her head as she whipped around the corner to the opening of the booth, brandishing her menus.
“Hi, I’m Alice and I’ll be your server this eve---”
But her words were cut off by the blunt impact of surprise at who she found looking up at her. First she saw the enormous brown eyes of the cashier from the bookstore - the one Edward had a thing for - staring up at her in equal shock. Then her focus quickly jumped across the table to none other than Edward himself, looking a little sheepish, and a lot expectant.
Alice wasted scant time gawking at them both before exclaiming, “Get out! I can’t believe you’re here. Together. The two of you. On a date.” She said the last word with the incredulity it deserved, but then realized she might be blowing things for her cousin. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that. At all. I think it’s great, in fact.”
Edward cringed slightly. “Everybody’s got to eat, right?” he downplayed. “And Sophia makes the best Italian food in the city. I take it you remember Bella from the bookstore, right?”
“Yeah, of course!” she exclaimed with a smile at Bella, who gave her one in return. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, but this first week of school kind of put me on overload, you know?”
“Oh, I know. It’s overwhelming at first. But you’ll get into the routine soon enough,” Bella said in assurance. “Call me anytime, though. Especially if you have any questions about classes or anything.”
“Thanks, I will. We’ll have to get together sometime, for sure.” She shot Edward a look, trying to discern his feelings on the matter. The small but pleased grin on his face nearly floored her. She hadn’t seen that expression since the last piano recital he’d done before going to Julliard. The appreciative crowd had given him a standing ovation, and though his face had been composed to express modest appreciation, his uncontainable grin had belied his struggle to keep from bursting at the seams with pride and happiness.
Alice looked at Bella once more, marveling at how she had accomplished such a feat. She had made her cousin happy again.
Bella was positively beaming herself, for that matter. “Yeah, we should hang out,” she told Alice. “I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.” Her gaze drifted back to Edward’s, and her eyebrow raised mischievously. It looked like Bella Swan was ready to hear more about Edward Masen - if she even knew that was his real last name. And Alice was more than happy to give her an earful.
Edward colored slightly, perhaps realizing the can of worms he might be opening by encouraging the two girls to get together. “Great,” he said at last in resignation.
Alice chuckled and handed them their menus, then recited the evening specials for them. She already knew Edward would want the lasagna, but she figured she might entice his date into something more adventurous.
“The crab agnolotti sounds good. I think I’ll have that,” Bella decided after Alice was finished.
“Oh, it is! It’s delicious,” Alice enthused, scribbling the item on her pad. She was about to ask what they’d like to drink when her cousin stunned her for the second time that evening.
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same,” Edward announced. “And we’ll have a bottle of the house pinot grigio to go with it.”
Alice gaped at him dumbly like he’d given her the entire order in Italian.
“What, no lasagna?” she finally asked with a laugh. “Sophia will be crushed.”
Edward only smiled. “Well, maybe it’s time for me to change it up a little. Try something new.”
He and Bella seemed to exchange a conspiratorial look, like they had a special secret between them. Alice stared at them for a long moment before adding a “2” in front of the agnolotti order on her ticket. She then retrieved their menus and left the duo alone in their bubble of obvious mutual attraction.
She spent the next twenty minutes subtly eavesdropping on them while she waited on other customers. The two had clammed up when she served their wine, and then their meals, so she had to resort to sneakier methods. She wasn’t interested in the topics of conversation so much as Edward’s behavior. Though Alice had never seen him working as an escort, thank God, she knew he had a coolly charming persona that he could put on at will, like the suits he donned before leaving the house. She’d seen that side of him whenever she’d been able to attend his music concerts - the veneer of the consummate professional hiding a bundle of nerves and latent insecurities within. He used to throw up sometimes before performances when he was younger. But onstage, you’d never know it. He always appeared calm and unflappable, the picture of confidence.
But she soon discerned that Edward did not use this mask with Bella. His smiles and laughter were genuine, as was his obvious affection. Every time Alice glanced at their table, she was struck by how at ease her cousin looked. How like himself he was. His old self, before the demands of everyday life had thrown him off track. She overheard him joke about dunking Bella in the Sound, claiming he never would have gone through with it - that her shrieks when he threw her over his shoulder and waded out knee-deep into the water were entertaining enough. She thought she heard Bella say something like, “I have better ways of entertaining you,” which made Edward’s eyebrow shoot skyward as he agreed that she certainly did.
Wow. This is serious, Alice realized. Not because of the apparent physical intimacy, but the emotional closeness. Edward was all in. She’d never seen him like this with anyone before. A glimmer of hope flooded her, like the sun breaking through the cracks in a cloudy sky. This girl really was the key to Edward making a change for the better. Alice was suddenly certain the tiny brunette sitting across from him would be able to succeed where she’d failed, and give him a reason to quit selling himself to others.
Alice hummed happily to herself as she rang up Edward and Bella’s order. She was heading back to their table when a familiar tall, blond drink of water entered the restaurant. Happiness turned to elation at the sight of Jasper Whitlock’s broad grin and quick wave when he saw her. She waved back and grabbed Deb, who was already on her way to greet him.
“Seat him at Booth Six,” Alice whispered to the hostess.
Deb glanced at the handsome young man, then at her co-worker. “Sure thing,” she said with a wink.
By the time Alice got to Booth Five, Edward and Bella looked anxious to leave. They rose from their seats immediately when she tried to give Edward his change. He shooed her hand away and told her to buy herself a hot fudge sundae - her favorite - later.
“Thanks,” she told him, pocketing the change. “Speaking of which, are you sure you two don’t want to order dessert? The tiramisu here is to die for.”
Edward and Bella shared that same private-joke look as before, and Alice was still fascinated by the sight of it.
“No, I think we’re finished here,” he said, after Bella shook her head in refusal.
“The dinner was delicious, though, really,” she assured Alice, finally tearing her eyes away from Edward’s. “Please tell the chef how good it was.”
“I will, now that you’re leaving,” Alice replied. She shot her cousin a look. “I didn’t tell Sophia you were here with a date so she wouldn’t do anything crazy, like spit in your food.”
Bella frowned and gave them both a quizzical look. “I’ll explain in the car,” Edward told her.
As they all turned to leave, they nearly bumped into the hostess leading Jasper to his table. Alice intercepted, grabbing him by the arm to stop him.
“I’m glad you came,” she told him, giving his bicep a squeeze. “Jasper, this is my cousin, Edward, and his date, Bella. This is Jasper Whitlock. I met him in the bookstore last week - he just transferred here from Texas Tech.”
They all said hello, while the males shook hands and sized each other up. Both Edward and Jasper were similar in stature and build; they even had matching crooked grins. But while Jasper’s was conciliatory, Edward’s was wary. He was clearly protective of his baby cousin, but Jasper understood why. Alice had filled him in on a brief family history, enough for him to know Edward was a brother and caretaker to her, and the only real family she had.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jasper told him in his most polite southern drawl. “Alice has been kind enough to show me the ropes around campus, since I’m new. She’s a special girl.”
Edward gave him a brief smile, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That she is,” he agreed. His expression seemed to add, “And don’t you forget it.”
Alice was grateful for Deb’s interruption as she showed Jasper to the booth behind them.
“Geez, Edward, you could have been a little nicer,” Alice hissed, giving him a quick whack on the arm. “I like him. He’s a good guy.”
“I hope so,” her cousin replied. “If not, he’ll have to answer to me.”
Alice rolled her eyes at his macho posturing. Bella seemed to find the whole thing amusing, though she gave her a sympathetic look as she followed Edward to the door.
“I’ll call you soon,” Alice hollered after her with a wave. She decided she was going to make good on her promise this time. Not only could Bella help her coax Edward to look for some alternatives to his current job, but she might be able to help soften his attitude toward Jasper.
She turned her attention to the broadly grinning Texan awaiting her in the next booth. After handing him a menu with an exaggerated sweep of her hand, she recited the day’s specials once more. He ordered the linguini and clams with a Goose Island beer.
“And can I get you an appetizer of some kind?” she added, deliberately leaning over the table to flash him a little cleavage as she took his menu.
His hungry eyes lingered over her enticements for a moment before returning to her inquisitive gaze.
“You do know how to whet a man’s appetite, Miss Cullen,” he said with a lazy grin. “I’ll take an order of whatever you recommend.”
Her grin was not nearly so slow to arrive as his. “I’ll have the chef whip up something special for you.”
“Sounds great. Surprise me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Forget the left butt cheek, she thought. Alice’s entire body was vibrating this time as she bounced back to the kitchen.
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