Chapter 13

“Are you hungry? I can call room service, if you’d like.”

The sound of Edward’s question made Bella glance up from the bathroom sink, where she'd just finished brushing her teeth. He appeared hesitant as he leaned in the doorway. He was dressed now, wearing the same trousers and wrinkled shirt as last night, sleeves rolled up, shirt collar open. He looked as cool and casual as a million bucks could look.

“No, I’m good," she said, self-consciously wiping the remnants of toothpaste from the corners of her mouth.

"Okay," he said quietly, leaving her to finish getting ready.

She wanted to tell him to go ahead and order something for himself, but she had the sneaking suspicion that he had other plans. He’d become increasingly quiet since their foray into the joys of “sixty-nine,” and she wasn’t sure why. “Shower with me?” he’d suggested shortly afterward, sounding remarkably unsure of himself for someone who had rocked her world minutes before. Did he really think her answer might have been “no?”

He refused to use the hotel-issued wash cloth on her, instead lathering up almost an entire bar of mini-soap between his palms and then transferring the suds to her in the most maddeningly sensual way possible. She had never had such a total body massage before - well, any massage, for that matter - and her senses were an overwhelming mess of tingles and shivers by the time he was done. He left not one square inch of her untouched. His fingers had probed every bit of skin, every nook, every cranny.

The feel, the sight, of each one of these was carefully catalogued in Edward’s head. The delicate collarbone feeding into soft, round shoulders. The curve of her backbone leading to the swell of her heart-shaped ass. The concave dimples at the top of each cheek - he kissed them both because he could not let them go unappreciated. The slope of her thighs narrowing to slender calves. The fleshy pad of each toe, descending from big to small, and her giggle of ticklishness as he slid his fingers between each.

Then he began his ascension: up pale shins, over slightly bony knees; pressing into muscular thighs before settling into triangular valley; continuing over soft belly to ridges of ribs; up twin hills of ivory flesh with their rose-petal peaks. He wasn’t a religious man, but he thought he saw God in this girl, if there was one.

She wondered if he was doing the very thing she had sought to do with him earlier - memorizing what was about to disappear from sight and touch. Why would he bother? Wasn’t he on to the next one, and the one after that? While she would go on to. . .

She didn’t know what. And so, when he was finished, she performed the same ritual on him, worshipping with sudsy hands and reading him as a blind girl would. The broad, masculine shoulders; the hard back muscles supporting pale, mole-flecked skin; the snow-white scoops of flesh that felt so soft yet so firm between her fingers; the thick hamstrings and ridges of calf muscle that defined his long legs.

She mimicked his ascent, hands roaming up muscular legs, pausing to trace the delicious indentation marking his typically male hips, then stroking the semi-erect evidence of his masculinity.

“So soon?” she whispered with a half smile as she threaded her fingers through the hair that snaked up his abdomen.

“Junior likes you,” Edward replied, mustering a half-grin. “A lot.”

“Well, I don’t have a name for my girly bits, but they’re pretty fond of you, too.”

They kissed, and rinsed, and kissed some more. They toweled each other dry in silence, then parted ways to take care of more mundane business.

Bella gargled some mouthwash from the travel-size bottle she’d brought in her toiletry bag, then spit and rinsed the excess from her mouth. Her breath was finally minty fresh. Sterile. The taste she used to relish now seemed overly medicinal, and she made a face in the mirror. All traces of Edward were gone now. She reached her hand under her robe to touch herself, to poke the raw skin until it hurt. She smiled with perverse relief.

“Here’s your clothes,” came more soft words from the doorway. She turned to take last night’s filmy blue dress and discarded lingerie from Edward’s hands, and the contact was all too brief.

“Thanks.” She was surprised at how subdued her own reply was.

He politely closed the door behind him after he left, which seemed ludicrous in light of the physical intimacy they’d just shared. She fished around in her oversized purse and pulled out a clean change of underwear, wishing she’d brought shorts and a t-shirt as well. She felt silly putting her evening dress and heels back on. It would make the walk of shame to her truck even more embarrassing. Every person she passed in the hotel lobby would know what she’d been up to the night before. Worse yet, they might even think she was the hooker.

She froze in horror at the thought. Not that others would assume she was a prostitute, but that she had just placed Edward in that category with relieved superiority. He was so very much more than that. Besides, she had bought his services, so that made her no better or worse than he was.

She felt ashamed as she dressed and put her wet hair in a ponytail. Edward deserved better than the mental treatment she had just given him. She grabbed her handbag and hurried to the bathroom door, calling out to him.

“Edward, are you -”

Her words were cut off abruptly as she opened the bathroom door and plowed right into him. They collided with noisy exclamations and Bella’s purse went flying, personal accoutrements scattering in every direction. Looking down in dismay, she realized that Edward had been carrying his overnight bag, and it had fallen to the floor as well. They both knelt and scrambled to retrieve their things; she blushed furiously while he cursed and apologized.

He was about to return his day planner to his travel bag, but was distracted by Bella’s backside in his face as she reached under the sink for an errant tube of lipstick. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he shoved the planner deep inside her handbag. By the time she had turned her attention back to her purse, he was already sitting back on his heels, smiling beatifically.

“Did you get everything?” he asked.

She glanced around the floor. “I think so.”

“Good. I’m sorry I ran into you like that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry, ‘clumsy’ is pretty much my middle name,” she admitted sheepishly.

“I don’t believe that,” he argued.

“You haven’t seen me in action.” Her laugh was more of a snort.

He remembered her body moving fluidly, snakelike, over his as she’d slithered to the floor between his legs.

“I’ve seen enough to know better,” he said.

She saw the flash of recollection in his eyes and her cheeks flushed further. Why on earth was she embarrassed now? The point was moot, at the very least. She averted her annoyingly self-conscious gaze to her handbag and fastened it shut. He offered her his hand to help her up, and she gratefully took it. Once standing, they held on just a little too long. Their eyes met and maintained the connection after their fingers reluctantly let go.

“I guess this is it.” He wondered if the disappointment in his voice was as obvious as he feared.

“Yeah.” She was none too pleased herself. She wondered how to make him understand how special he’d made her feel, despite the fact that she’d paid a hefty sum for the privilege. “I had a great time. You were . . . pretty wonderful to me.” Lame, she chastised herself.

His mind whirled with flashbacks, most of them consisting of her giving in to him. Surrendering, accepting, giving back. And she was telling him that he was wonderful to her?

He frowned and reached for her chin, chucking it gently under the crook of his finger.

“You deserve nothing less,” he said simply. You deserve so much more.

He was ready to lean in and kiss her when a ringing noise met his ears. It was coming from the bag slung over his shoulder, and he soon recognized the annoying sound as his own phone. He scowled and dug out the offending device; it was Rosalie’s direct line.

“I’d better take this,” he apologized. He dropped his bag to the floor and left the room.

Bella sighed and turned to the sink, looking around to see if she had missed anything. There, precariously close to the edge of the countertop, sat one of her earrings. It was half of the pair that her grandmother had given her for her high school graduation, dainty diamonds with a small, tear-shaped pearl attached. They had belonged to her great-grandmother, whom Bella barely remembered. They were a family heirloom that she couldn’t afford to lose.

Her relief was short-lived when a look through her purse revealed that the earring’s mate was missing.

Her eyes darted around the room: over the counter, down to the floor, behind the toilet, in the shower. No, it couldn’t be there; she had taken the earrings out and put them in her purse last night while Edward had been out in the hall with Emmett. She tried not to panic, and picked up Edward’s overnight case from the floor to look under it. Nothing.

But when she set the bag back on the floor, she suddenly spied a dull gleam from within the side pocket. She reached down to gratefully retrieve her found earring, then heard the honey-toned murmur of Edward’s voice in the next room as he spoke on the phone. The sound was irresistible, just like the rest of him. How could she go on without ever hearing his voice again?

She stood upright and glanced down at Edward’s nylon bag again, to make sure the earring was safely ensconced the zipper pocket. She leaned over and pulled the zipper partly shut, just to make sure her jewelry would stay put until he opened the bag later.

She was still smiling to herself when he returned to the bathroom.

“That’s an interesting grin,” he noted.

“What do you mean?”

“Looks a little like the cat who ate the canary.” His eyes narrowed. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Probably. But I’m sure my secrets don’t begin to compare to yours.”

His smile faded. “Probably not.” His eyes fell; his hand raised to agitate his still-wet hair. “I’ve checked out and called the valet. They should have our cars waiting by the time we get downstairs.”

“Oh, okay.” Her heart was beginning to feel leaden, as were her feet. The clumsy high heels didn’t help. Edward’s hand instinctively sought the small of her back, guiding her as she wobbled to the foyer. He opened the door for her and went right back to letting his hand hover near her waist, all the way to the elevator.

They stepped inside and found themselves alone in the tiny compartment. Edward pressed the ground floor button, and the doors slid shut with an elegant swish. As the muffled ding sounded, his eyes met Bella’s. Seconds later, his bag fell to the floor a second time and he grabbed her, pulling her roughly against him. Their kiss was fierce, desperate, bordering on comical, except neither could manage to laugh when it came to a panting end.

He wanted to tell her how amazing she was. How different she made him feel. How grateful he was that she chose him. But nothing came out of his lips except heavy, clumsy breaths. He hoped his eyes were more eloquent as they searched hers for similar sentiments.

She stared up into his wild gaze and hoped it meant what she thought it did. She knew the past fifteen hours could never have the same significance for him as they did for her, but she hoped she had left some small impression on him, made some tiny difference in his life.

Another elegant swish interrupted their moment, and they broke apart swiftly as the elevator doors re-opened on the tenth floor. A family - two parents, a young boy and a girl - piled into the tiny space, and they resumed their journey. Edward’s fingers found Bella’s and laced between them, though he looked placidly ahead. She couldn’t help but grin a little as she squeezed his hand. Neither let go, even after the elevator settled on the first floor and the family filed out. Their hands remained joined as they passed the nodding concierge and exited the foyer, where the valet waited patiently with their keys. Edward and Bella retrieved the keys with their free hands. Still clutching her fingers between his, Edward led her down the walk, then abruptly burst into laughter at the sight before him.

Bella’s rusted red truck was sandwiched incongruously among several luxury vehicles parked on the circular drive, appearing much like a fish - or whale - out of water. Edward admired the sheer size of the thing, its bulbous iron hood resembling the hull of a ship.

“Nice ride,” he teased. He pulled her along after him while he walked the length of the vehicle, observing its patchy paint job and worn interior.

“Hey, it gets me where I need to go,” she protested.

“Not very economically. You could actually save a lot of money if you got a smaller, newer car.” They slowed as they neared the driver door.

“Oh, like yours?” She nodded back to the black hard-top convertible parked behind them - sleek, shiny and foreign.

“Well, there are more affordable cars,” he said in defense of his C70, “but I like the safety features on that one.”

She quirked a surprised eyebrow at that. Very few guys her age were concerned about stability control and curtain airbags. He sounded like her father in that regard. Charlie had paid Jake to install the latest safety features into Old Red before he let her take it to college.

“Safety is good,” she concurred, giving him a curious look.

He ignored it and opened the truck door for her. It swung open slowly, protesting every inch of the way with a grating squeal.

“A little WD-40 can work wonders,” he suggested with a chuckle.

“Yeah, good lube is key,” she shot back, giving him a provocative look before climbing into the truck.

Damn her anyway, taunting him like that. He already wanted her again, and he hadn’t even left her yet.

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” he replied. He didn’t know how or when, but he was determined to see her again, and soon. His day planner in her purse was his insurance policy.

She was dazzled by the cocky grin that spread over his face. “Now who’s the cat that ate the canary?”

He leaned in the rusty doorframe and grabbed her chin gently in his hands, giving her a lingering kiss.

“See you soon, Bella,” he whispered with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I hope so,” she answered, envisioning her earring safely tucked inside Edward’s overnight bag.

He slammed the heavy door shut and stood watching until her monster truck disappeared down the long drive. She watched him watching her in the rearview mirror until the hotel was out of sight.

She wore her own Cheshire cat grin all the way back to the dorm.