Update - The Appointment - Ch 21 - Dinner for Two
The Appointment
By miztrezboo80
Chapter: 21. Dinner for Two
Genre: Twilight - Drama / Romance
Characters: Bella, Jasper
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content,
Beta'd By: Ilsuocantante
Summary: "Bella had the perfect life. The perfect husband to love, the perfect house, the perfect job.. everything perfect. Until one night the shutters came up and the perfect movie life she thought she was living came crashing down around her. Enter... The Sexy Bella.. After shenanigans in the tool shed go awry, Bella's forced into sex therapy with one hot looking doctor. But when he can't handle her, he calls the only person he knows who can ... A series of unusual sessions, admissions and out and out seduction become the norm for her Tuesday Appointments. But will Bella ever get any better? "
Disclaimer: All things Twilight not mine.. songs mentioned.. nah, I'm not that clever. Silly plot and situations, yeh, I'll claim that :D
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Chapter Twenty One - Dinner for Two
"A kick to the teeth is good for some, A kiss with a fist is better then none"
Florence and The Machine - A Kiss With A Fist (Is Better Than None)
I should have known it wasn't going to last.
As if I had the right to happiness.
Not after all the hurt I'd caused. The fucked up 'life' I'd led and the decisions I'd made that affected all the people around me.
I should have known.
There was no way, no way, that what we had had been a one-sided affair, that I could have been the only one that felt how right we were together. I couldn't argue with him forever, and everything I questioned, he had an answer for. Jasper had obviously made up his mind, no matter how badly I thought he was lying to himself. To me.
In the end, I just gave up. I went upstairs, packed my things, and walked back out the front door to the car that I hadn't used in almost six weeks. I didn't cry anymore; I wouldn't let myself.
I'd cried enough over men who'd said they loved me, but didn't actually know what love was. I wouldn't be the one who was left a crumpled heap on the floor just because someone was yet again hiding from what they really felt.
If neither of these men wanted who I was, then I would just move on. Even if it hurt, and what happened in that house boat had more than ripped my heart to shreds. It had torn it from my chest with a dull spoon, and then proceeded to flay the unbeating muscle strip by painful strip.
But I would not shed a single tear more. I was done being pitiful and weak.
I would just have to go home and face a future alone.
The first night I spent back at my old house was the hardest.
Everything was too quiet.
Too clean.
Too empty.
Too… without Jasper.
The strange thing was - I wasn't lonely. I was alone, but not lonely in the least. I had my anger to keep me company. There was another message for Edward from his lawyers. This time, they mentioned a real estate agent.
So, he was selling the house, too.
This made me even angrier. It shouldn't have because, even though I'd lived here with him our entire married life, I had no claim to it. Sure, a few things here were mine. Some even belonged to both of us, from when we'd lived together in my little rental apartment, but nothing in here had ever felt like it was ours. Felt like us.
What the hell had I done the entire time we'd been together? Better yet, what had Edward done? Had he actually been happy with the life that we'd had? Was he ever happy with me? Even before the affairs, before me cheating on him emotionally, or physically - had he been happy?
What about 'us' had any resemblance to what a true marriage should be? One of partnership. Of give and take and support. I'd always supported him. When he'd changed his mind about going into private practice, I'd attended every stupid function we could to get him every new promotion possible. I'd smiled and been ever so polite, and I guess that was when Perfect Wife had come out to play.
When he'd started getting more invitations to teach at universities across the country, when he began to have his skills needed by victims of burns, and tragic accidents and things - I'd let him go. Even when he'd stopped offering to take me with him, I'd never said a word. I just grew more and more bored with our life until Sexy B took over and made life interesting again.
It was my fault that everything had gone wrong. I'd never spoke up about what I wanted, or what I needed. I'd just created alternative personalities to get the job done. I'd never talked to Edward about any of it.
He'd never spoken up either.
Edward had never said how anything I did or didn't do had made him feel, he'd never told me how anything I did affected him - not even when we'd been in therapy with Carlisle had he even gotten angry. The only - only - time I'd heard him raise his voice was the night he left me and I went to Jasper. What was it about Jasper that made him finally crack?
Was it the fact that I was so close to him? Edward knew that the relationship we'd built was strong. He knew how well I'd regarded Jasper's opinion, how much I'd opened up to him about everything. Did he see Jasper as some kind of adversary?
I was so utterly confused by the mess my life had become. I had no Jasper, no Edward. I wasn't even going to have a roof above my head, but I had one thing.
I had me.
And I wouldn't let her down anymore.
I wouldn't sit back and allow the fact that I'd lost two loves destroy all the hard work I had done to figure out who I was; I wouldn't let them take that away from me. If Jasper didn't want me, I would be okay with that.
It hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before - but I would become okay with that. I would get past it just as I would get past my marriage with Edward ending. It was with that in mind that I finally succumbed to a dreamless sleep, lying in the bed that had, at one time, been made for two.
~8~
I went back to see Garrett on the next Tuesday. A new time for a new doctor. Same building, though, just a different office. I pretended that it didn't hurt knowing that Jasper was around somewhere. I kept my gaze straight ahead as I walked past his door toward the corner office where Garrett was now working full time.
We talked about everything- including Jasper, though without naming names as I didn't want to get him into trouble. I was angry at why he wanted us to be over, but I didn't want to unnecessarily hurt him. I couldn't - and wouldn't - be vicious like that.
Garrett was happy with my progress in the weeks I hadn't been to see him. What he wasn't pleased with was the fact I had shifted so quickly from one committed relationship to another. He used familiar words like transference, and a few other labels that Jasper had used - it was eerily reminiscent of the argument Jasper and I'd had. All of what he stated - or restated, as the case were - made me rethink why I wasn't as broken up about Jasper and I ending as I felt I should be. When Edward had walked away, I lay broken on our bedroom floor. When Jasper had pushed me out the door, I'd gone back home with my head held high, determined not to lose myself in a world of hurt.
He also thought I should talk to Edward, find out exactly what was going on, and to make up my own mind about whether I wanted to push for what we'd had - what we could have again - or let go and move on.
Not that I had anyone to move on with anymore.
Not that I felt I needed anyone to move on.
When I returned to the house, Edward was there.
His luggage was unpacked and already in the washer, and his classical music played softly throughout. Everywhere I looked, there were little pieces of him filling the previously"Edward empty" spaces: A glass tumbler with only the murky leftovers of ice and his Johnny Walker left in the bottom sitting on the kitchen bench, His briefcase lying on the desk in his office. His dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper, one muted olive tie hanging over the edge. The pair of shiny black shoes that had been missing was now lined up amongst his others.
When I entered our bedroom, he was asleep - his bronze waves sticking up all over the place, his face completely free of care lying on the side of his pillow as his back rose and fell in time with his even breaths. The sheet barely covered his naked torso, as he had just thrown himself on the bed after showering like he always did when he returned from conferences and trips away.
Edward mumbled in his sleep, a word I couldn't make out, and then his hand was on my side of the bed, his fingers stretching out again, and again. Reaching… reaching out for me. My heart squeezed and my stomach burned at the sight in front of me. How I could look upon him and still love him after pushing him from my mind for so long?
He called my name and it was if he knew that I was standing there. As if he knew where I was even when he wasn't alert. His voice was a husky tenor filled with longing as he called my name again. I sat on the edge of the bed and tentatively placed my hand on his. He sighed and the tiny lines in his forehead smoothed out.
"You're home," he mumbled, pulling me down onto the bed. I lay there beside him, hardly breathing at all. This was too much, too weird after everything I'd been through, everything I'd done.
"So are you," I whispered, my throat clenching over the words as he pulled my hand toward his face, his lips pressing softly against my palm.
"I missed you. I was away for too long. I left you alone for too long."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused by his words. Yes, he'd left, but what did he mean by being away? Leaving me alone?
"I left you here, at home. Not again. Not anymore. I've fixed it." He yawned, and let his hand trail along my arm, down around my waist, tugging me closer until his head rested on top of mine.
"I can't let you go."
~8~
Sleep wasn't as easy that night.
Edward slipped easily back to sleep, snoring peacefully, while I lay there for hours. I couldn't figure out what he meant. Did he think that I'd been at the house the entire time? Did he think that I had just waited around for him to come home?
Of course, before I could figure out what his jumbled words meant, I drifted off myself, and when I woke in the morning, he was gone, the sheets rumpled with a single red rose left atop his pillow. That he'd do something so sweet - had remembered something from when we had first dated - made me tear up.
Then there was a note in the kitchen telling me he'd be back later that evening, that he was so happy to be home again, and not to worry about why he'd been gone so long. He'd tell me soon enough.
The note was as cryptic as his words had been the night before, and it was only as I was sitting out on our patio, overlooking a familiar body of water, that I realized what he was referring to.
He thought I'd been here the entire time he was gone.
When he had left that night, over a month and a half ago, he had just assumed I'd stayed here wallowing. He'd assumed that I'd continued our normal bland existence, hadn't thought I was worthy of anything else. He believed that I would just sit here and silently await his return just as I had done all the times before.
How could he have been so wrong?
I didn't know whether to be angry or sad. Angry that he thought so little of me, that he assumed I wouldn't react to him leaving me. Or sad that he hadn't noticed my absence from his life at all.
So I waited, and I planned for the night ahead.
A night filled with food, some wine, and maybe a few words on what we were, and what we wanted out of this relationship..
If there was any relationship to continue.
~8~
It would be the first real meal that we'd had together in far too long, so I agreed and left to put a few things back in the warmer. As the day had worn on, I'd become more and more angry about how easily he'd assumed that I'd just accept his words, and his leaving that night. That I would just wait for him to forgive me, like some loyal puppy awaiting his master after being scolded for chewing his slippers. I was twitching with all I wanted to say, so much so that I ended up having a drink to calm my nerves. Which led to me drinking more and more of the wine that I'd picked especially for the meal.
Dutch courage is what I'd called it.
Although, I'm fairly certain the Dutch stop at one.
I'd had a bottle before he even sent the message that he would be home on time.
He walked in the door at seven, and asked if he had enough time to shower before dinner. His shower was quick, and he came down the stairs smelling of soap and man and everything that, at one time, had made my heart flutter. Now it just curdled my stomach. It wasn't the same soap, it wasn't the same clean that my heart longed for, but my head told me to forget about cinnamon and the rest. It wasn't important. Edward was.
He was quiet as he sat at the table. I'd set out everything that he liked, cooked his favorite pot roast, those honey baby carrots and that special brand of peas. Fuck, I'd even gone all out and made, from the crust up, my apple and blueberry tart that he used to adore! Yet, he said nothing.
I waited for him to make the first move, to talk about whatever his so-called 'explanations' were as to why he'd been away for so long.
Left me 'alone' for longer than he deemed necessary.
After a polite hello, he asked me if I wanted a drink - only then noting the near full glass of red in my hand. He asked how I had been. I answered fine. He didn't mention the fact it had been almost two months since we had spoken, and neither did I. We sat in what he probably thought was a contented silence.
It was awkward, and it felt…wrong.
So I brought out the food and started the meal.
I wanted to ask about the phone call, and where he'd gone. I wanted to know what he'd meant last night in our bedroom, for him to realize that I hadn't been here waiting for his return. I wanted him to ask me the same questions and to care about what had happened - what I'd done - during the time we'd spent apart, but he was either too worried what my answers would be, or he didn't care. I didn't know, and the longer the silence stretched between us, the angrier I became.
Just like every other meal we'd had together.
Just like all the time we'd ever spent together.
Just like our entire marriage… so much left unsaid, and it really, really pissed me off.
The only sounds in the room came from the metallic scraping of his knife and fork on the fine bone china that was part of his mother's wedding dowry, and had been in the Masen family for generations. It was our "good" china, and I knew how special it was to him.
In the beginning, when we'd been in that honeymoon stage after our wedding, I had used them all the time. It had been our regular Sunday dinner routine back in the days before Gina had taken over kitchen duties. I'd slave away all day in the kitchen over his favorite meal, and then set our places at our ridiculously long ten person dining table - him at one end, me at the other - and we'd drink and talk and laugh until the food was gone.
As I recalled, after those dinners we'd end up in opposite ends of the house. He'd retire to his office to do more research on some new technique, or whatever operation he was working on in the week. I'd head upstairs, have a long bath, and finish off the bottle of red we'd had with dinner. Even back then we'd been apart, we'd never been as together as I had thought.
Had I really imagined that I was happy, that I had ever been happy here?
With that thought, I dropped my cutlery rather noisily and refilled my wine glass from the bottle of Pinot Noir that was now more than half empty, mostly from me. As I lifted the glass to my lips, I noticed the look Edward was giving me.
His eyes had narrowed over the tops of the thin metal frames he occasionally wore when he'd been studying some new medical procedure, and lips were pursed in a fine line.
"What, Edward?" I swirled the wine in the glass before drinking the last of what was left in my glass in one gulp.
"Nothing, Isabella." He shook his head, sighed and returned to slicing the meat on his plate into perfect little squares. He was so ridiculously anal.
"No, Edward, you obviously wanted to say something. Now what is it?" I placed my glass back on the table and, as I lifted the bottle to refill it yet again, he sighed once more.
I ground my teeth, trying to stop myself from saying something I shouldn't. Stupid Jasper and his grand idea that I could salvage anything with Edward. It was ridiculous. Edward's sighing and groaning over me having a little bit to drink, and my reaction was proof of how wrong he was. It had been his decision though. He had kicked me out. He didn't want me.
"Bella," Edward sighed, taking off his glasses and placing them on the table. He closed his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose, before carefully folding his napkin and setting it to the side of his plate like he always did. Always so freaking particular and poised.
"What, Edward? Can't I have a drink now? Is that some new rule to add to the many you already have for me?"
Fuck, he just annoyed me with his holier than thou attitude. I should be allowed to get drunk if I wanted. I had plenty to drink about.
"I don't want to argue, love."
He ran a hand over the top of his head, pulling at the strands that had fallen across his forehead. To think I used to love doing that - moving his hair, playing with the kinks that would never sit right no matter how you pushed and pulled them. Not now, though. That familiar move, that "I'm annoyed" tug of the hair just… pissed. Me. Off.
"Of course you don't want to argue! That would actually mean having a conversation of sort with me, wouldn't it? And we couldn't have that, now could we, love?" My foot tapped on the hardwood floor in aggravation.
"Isabella, I just want to eat the beautiful meal you've made for us. I don't want to argue with you. I'd rather we left it. Drink if you want to."
He picked up his knife and fork, and resumed his perfect little organization of meat, peas and potato on the end of his fork. My toe tapping continued. I needed an outlet seeing as he wasn't going to say anything else. He never wanted to argue. Just another way of pushing everything that was wrong under the rug, of pushing me away.
"Fine." I filled the glass to the brim, and lifted it to my lips, drinking until it was empty again.
He said nothing. Not a sigh, not a groan - I didn't even warrant a roll of the eyes. Nothing.
Did anything at all affect him? Silence fell around us like a heavy blanket.
"Aren't you even going to ask me what I did while you were away?" Fuck this. I was so fucking tired of being quiet. All of this 'love' and 'Isabella'...were beyond annoying, especially the way he said my name; it was too close to how Dr. Jasper had spoken it only a few nights ago when he'd torn everything I had thought I had always wanted - had thought I had finally found - completely and utterly apart.
Edward placed his cutlery down on top of his napkin, sat back in his chair, and let his hands rest on his lap. He looked the epitome of relaxed. "What did you do while I was away?"
"I saw Jasper."
Saw, licked, nibbled, touched, inhaled every inch of that golden haired god of sex.
"Bella," Edward started, his eyes closed, and I could already see his hands clenching into fists. Good. I wanted him to hurt the way I hurt. I wanted him to show me that he felt something.
"I saw a lot of him, actually." That tattoo that curved along his spine, the scars on his arm, the way he slept with his mouth open and would drool a little...
I saw a lot.
"Stop." Edward's nostrils were flaring, but I was on a roll, and I wouldn't be stopped just because he said so. Not until I told him every last detail.
"I stayed at his houseboat until last Sunday."
He opened his mouth, but said nothing before closing it again. Silence stretched between us, like the illusion of an endless highway on the horizon, sizzling in the midday sun. I couldn't believe that he had nothing to say to this. That even when I was giving him cause for anger once more, he'd reverted to his usual emotional distance. To his willful ignorance of any part of me that he didn't like. He stood, picked up his plate and pushed his chair back.
"Where are you going?" I asked, incredulous that he was just walking away once more. That it was apparently so easy for him to resume his blissful ignorance of the most recent sexual escapades I'd had. I wouldn't go back to being Sexy B, but I wouldn't let Edward return to his barricaded walls of indifference either.
"I'm finished, Isabella. I'm putting my plate away, and thinking about having a piece of that pie I smelled earlier. If that's alright with you."
I just about snapped the stem of the wine glass in my hand. Was he going to sweep it all under the carpet again? Did I really not matter to him at all? How could he be so forgiving?
"No, you always do that. You always say nothing, and walk away. Tell me, Edward! Tell how this makes you feel?"
He sighed again, pushing his chair in, and moved to walk away. I couldn't believe he was just leaving, and what was with the fucking sighing? Was it really that hard to tell me what he thought?
"Don't you care that your wife, your wife, spent the month and a half while we were separated in someone else's arms? Don't you care at all that I was wrapped around him at night, and didn't once think of you? That I made love to him over and over, and you were the furthest thing from my thoughts? Doesn't any of this mean anything to you?"
Anger at his ambivalence spewed like poison with my every word. I couldn't take it any longer. I hated that he thought I had just stayed here awaiting his return, and that he never once cared to ask me why I hadn't called him.
His total lack of interest in me, once more, had my blood boiling, and I wouldn't stand idly by any longer. This would be it. This would be the make or break of us, and I wouldn't be finished, wouldn't allow him to leave until we'd lain bare what we were, and what we could be. No stone left unturned. No words left unsaid. This would be the make or break of us.
I could see the muscle in his jaw bulging as his face turned scarlet red. Maybe I had finally pushed him to do something. I was so tired of living here with this ghost. This man who I had once thought meant everything to me was like a statue when it came to anything that meant showing how he felt, how anything actually affected him.
He stood shaking in his place, and his knuckles had turned white on the edge of the plate in his hand.
Without another word, he turned and threw the plate across the room.
The sound of the china smashing against the wall left me stunned. I watched the gravy-soaked meat and vegetables slide slowly down the wall until my head snapped back in his direction from the anger and venom in his next words.
"Is this what you want, Bella? Do you want me to smash our things? Do you want me to yell and rage? Do you want me to hit you? Cause you pain like your words do to me? Hurt you the way you've hurt me over and over again? Is that what you want?"
I should have been frightened. I'd never, ever seen him so wild.
He hadn't turned me on like this…
Ever.
"Is it?" he spat, his hands squeezing and releasing rapidly.
Tense. Release. Tense. Release.
I gulped, placing my shaking hands together on my lap. I didn't know what to say.
"I asked you a question, Bella," he literally snarled at me.
"I-I want you to fight for me. I want you to care."
My eyes widened as he took in my words, shaking his head. His hands continued to tense and release in the same pattern that he'd begun moments before, only this time they were visibly shaking when he closed them tight.
"Fight? You think I wouldn't fight for you, Bella?"
He strode around the table like a lion eyeing its prey. When the fuck did I turn into prey? I'd stopped breathing the moment he moved. He stood beside my chair, shoving my plate to the side as he rested one hand on the table, the other on my shoulder. I felt him move closer, the heat radiated off his body like a naked flame that burned through his crisp, black button down. I shuddered as his teeth scraped the lobe of my ear.
"This is what you want, isn't it? You like me being out of control, this excites you, doesn't it?"
My breaths came quick and fast as my pulse raced. Who the fuck was this, and where had he been hidden in all the time we'd been together? Anything I was going to say completely left my thoughts. I couldn't take my eyes from his as they were burned into mine. I could feel his heated breath on my neck, and my shoulder shook where his fingers dug hard into the skin.
"Answer me, Bella." His words caressed my neck as his tongue licked a warm trail down to my collarbone. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I waited for him to do something, anything.
Then he fucking growled. If my panties weren't wet before, they were damn near dripping after that, and when he bit the skin there…
Fuck me. I think I came a little.
"Y-Yes," I stuttered when his tongue laved at the indentation his teeth had left.
Without another word, his hand swept the dishes off the table, and onto the floor where they landed in a cacophony of noise as the heirloom china shattered. I winced at the sound. The plates, the crystal stemware - he'd smashed them all.
"Stand up," he pulled at my arm, and I quickly complied, not wanting to see what he'd do if I didn't. Would the spell he was apparently under be broken if I stopped now? I certainly didn't want it to be. The only thing I could think, see and feel was this new, rejuvenated Edward in front of me.
His fingertips brushed lightly down either side of my arms leaving a burning trail in their wake. His hands stilled at my hips and, in a quick move, he had me up and sitting on the edge of the table. Without a word, he pushed at my shoulder, pressing me back onto the, now empty table's surface. My eyes closed of their own accord when his hand pushed my legs apart, and then I felt the soft linen of his pants move between them.
I wanted to groan, moan, move, but I didn't want him to stop. Every touch, every kiss was pushing Jasper further toward the back of my mind. I needed this as much as Edward obviously did. His fingertips grazed up the inside of my legs, gathering the bottom of my grey wool skirt up. I lifted my hips as his hands moved higher, his thumbs dipped under the elastic of my panties, and he pulled them down in one quick, rough motion. He stepped back to remove them from my feet, tugging on my foot to bring my ass to the edge of the table.
The distinct sound of his fly being unzipped was loud in the quiet that existed between us amongst heavy breaths. His fiery green eyes were locked on mine when his fingers encircled my ankles, bringing one, then the other up and over his shoulder. My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard as the tip of his cock nudged against my slick folds.
"This turns you on, doesn't it? Did he do this to you? Did he treat you like this?"
His grip on my hips tightened as he pressed just the tip of his cock into my entrance. I didn't want to hear about Jasper right now. I wanted to focus on him, and the feelings he had coursing through my body with his touch. Was he finally going to fuck me? Here on our dining room table, with his pants around his ankles like this?
"My Bella," Edward grunted, and took my breath away as he thrust forward with no warning.
He had never, never, been like this with me. My fingers grabbed frantically at the tabletop, hopelessly trying to find something, anything, to hold on to when he pulled out and thrust in again, filing me completely.
"This is what you want, isn't it?"
His voice was a deep rasp as he slammed in and out of my body, his fingers pressing painfully into the soft skin of my waist. I could feel that band in the pit of my stomach tightening with every push and pull. All I could do was breathe and hang on as his movements sent me rushing toward my release.
"Tell me I'm what you need." He pulled at my hips, lifting them higher, the new angle hitting that sweet spot inside, and I couldn't help but cry out.
"Say it!" he barked, increasing the tempo of his thrusts until everything burned.
I gasped, and writhed against him. His eyes were glued to mine, a darker shade of green than I'd ever seen before; he looked like a man possessed. Sweat beaded upon his brow, and a wild tangle of copper locks had fallen slightly over his eyes, every thrust bouncing a wayward curl against the line of his nose.
"Yes!" I shouted in return, his tight hold on my hips preventing me from moving forward. I could only arch my back as I felt my legs begin to shake, and my muscles liquefy around me. This felt beyond good. I was so close to the edge, I just needed something. Something more. I needed…
He pulled my legs down from his shoulders then slipped his arms under my back, and gripped my shoulders, pulling me up. In one quick movement, he sat on the chair, taking me with him to sit on his lap, his cock still buried deep inside me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, our eyes locked, and I somehow found the strength to move. His body thrust up into mine as I ground down onto his hard length. My insides were twitching, pulsing, and readying for the high that I was so close to achieving.
"Tell me I'm enough," he whispered hoarsely in my ear, resting his head on my shoulder. Edward's hand left my hip, moving in between the small space between us, slipping, sliding, circling over sensitive flesh. Words were no longer an option. I was close. So very close, but I needed… I needed…
"Tell me I'm who you want." I could feel his breath on my neck, chilling my overheated skin as sweat ran down my back. His hand moved up my spine, pushing the silk fabric of my shirt. This was hard, fast and amazing and he hadn't even taken the time to undress me.
I pulled the curls at the nape of his neck; I wanted more, needed more. Resting my open mouth on his collarbone as his hips rocked into me faster, I gasped air soundlessly with every thrust he made. The room filled with the sounds of his grunts and moans, but I couldn't say a word. Maybe it wasn't a 'what' that I needed…
Maybe it was a 'who'.
"Say it!" he growled as his fingers circled faster and faster, sending me higher and higher. His teeth grazed against the skin of my neck, pressing into my flesh as his fingers pinched my clit.
A word fell from my lips, but I was deaf to all sound, and white light invaded my sight while wave after wave of pleasure assaulted my body. I kissed my way up along his neck, brushing my lips quickly across his jaw and, as I went to bite on that juicy bottom lip of his, he moved his head to the side.
I sat back a little, and noticed that he was still inside me only he wasn't moving, and I knew that he hadn't come. I moved my hips, grinding my pelvis into his, but was stopped by his hands coming to hold my hips still. I ran one hand around from the back of his neck, laying my fingers against his jaw, to turn his head back to me, totally unprepared for the tears shining in his eyes.
"Edward, what's wrong?" I asked, rubbing my thumb across his chin, and into the little indentation there. He looked so sad, and the look alone broke my heart.
"Stop, Bella! Just stop." His voice caught on the words, and a solitary tear fell from the corner of one eye. I felt his hand rest upon mine, pulling it away from his face.
I frowned, twisting his fingers between mine. "Not until you tell me what's wrong. What happened? You were amazing, we've never -" I sighed, pressing my lips to his clammy forehead. "You were right there." I knew he was, I was aware of my actions long enough to recognize the familiar sounds of his imminent orgasmic bliss. I knew though, that I might have missed the roar when I was lost to my own.
He tried to turn his head again, looking over my shoulder, and he pulled at our joined hands, but I didn't want him to let go. I wanted to understand just what the fuck went wrong.
"Talk to me, Edward?"
"I'm not enough for you, am I? I-I thought…I thought if I did this - if I was what you wanted - we could put all of this behind us, but…" He choked on his next words, a loud sob tore from his chest, and he leaned forward, resting his head on my shoulder.
I froze. I felt sick, absolutely disgusted with myself. I, too, had thought this was what I wanted - his touch, that look he'd given me, how forceful he'd been - it had felt right, but confusing all the same. Jasper had been like a fire in my veins, burning away every vestige of what I thought I was, thought I knew, completely out of me. Those words he'd used the last time I saw him... Jasper had made it perfectly clear I wasn't wanted, and that I should try with Edward. Even now, when I did try, it wasn't enough. All I'd done was cause more hurt.
"I'm so sorry, Edward." I pulled his body close, and ran my free hand down his back, moving in slow soothing circles. All he'd ever done was love me, try to be everything for me, and this was how I repaid him? Made him think that he wasn't enough for me when, in reality, I wasn't any good for him. The way I'd treated him, the way we'd both checked out of this relationship in so many ways... Was there even anything left to salvage?
"Why aren't I enough for you? I'm trying so hard, I just want you to want me as much as I want you." His voice was shaky as he whispered the words into my chest, his head resting just above my still racing heart.
This was it. This was the where I decided if I wanted him, or wanted to move on.
Edward was what I needed.
"You are enough, Edward. We just need to find each other again. We need to find us again." I felt tears filling my own eyes, this between us, this had to be my priority. Working on our relationship, remembering what we were to each other, it was what we both wanted, both needed.
"Really? Do you think we can?" he asked, his words shaky as he lifted his head from my chest, his green eyes still sparkling with as hope registered on his tear stained face.
I nodded. If he could forgive me for my past indiscretions, if he could let all of that go, then I could too.
"Come with me then. Come to Miami."
Excuse me? Miami?
"What's in Miami, Edward?" The shake in my voice was for a completely different reason now. Sure, I wanted us to work; I wanted to work at being an 'us', but this? To move?
"Remember Peter Walsh? He's got a private practice down there. He's asked me to join his team. He did what you and I had talked about doing in the beginning, remember? Just you and me and a small practice. It's what I should have done in the first place, and I had my attorney draw up the paperwork."
And just like that, everything, all the things I'd assumed had one meaning, now so obviously had another.. "So the lawyers, the messages on the phone... You don't want a divorce? This was all about some practice?"
He nodded, smiling widely. "I told you, Bella, I told you that I couldn't leave you anymore. I love you too much, and I hate the thought of losing you. The lawyers, and stuff - that's what I was doing after I left you. I booked myself into the Four Seasons because I was just so angry and hurt, and I needed to think. I'd been there a week when Peter called, and it all clicked into place. He threw some numbers around, and mentioned how happy he and his wife were..."
He took my face between his hands, his long thumbs rubbing slow circles over my cheeks. "I want us to be happy again. I want us to be us again. It's more money, less hours, so I'll be able to give you the attention that I should have all along. All the little things that I should have done, and if I had, none of this would ever have happened." He looked excited now, hopeful that this would be the answer to all of our problems.
Could it? Could something as simple as leaving town, leaving behind the mess I'd created here, solve everything?
"Miami."
"Please, love. Please. Come with me." His eyes searched mine for an answer.
So I gave the only one I could give.
"Yes."
Previous ~ Next
A/n I love my failbeta ilsuocantante and amerymarie the one who catches all my problemos and points out how to fix them.
Pretty Porn contest - info at theLUSTorium DOT net
I'm playing around with a little Carlisle/Bella smutshot.. purely for fun, should be up in a week-ish, theres a Mad Men inspired slash short story on its way and the rest of Subway Stalkers should start posting in a week-ish too.
Things I'm reading
MOCKINGJAY! Feel free to discuss in reviews or pms!
My beautiful friend fngrcufs has written an amazing The Breakfast Club-esque femme slash o/s Saturday Mornings (and if you're not reading Conjunction you should be)
I read a few Slash/Back Slash entries and VampiresHaveLaws wrote a FAB angsty awesome Carlisle/Edward (it WAS a hard limit pairing for me but through a few awesome stories thats slowly changing) The Kindness of Strangers
All rec's SHOULD be in my C2 on FFn.
3 to go.
By miztrezboo80
Chapter: 21. Dinner for Two
Genre: Twilight - Drama / Romance
Characters: Bella, Jasper
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content,
Beta'd By: Ilsuocantante
Summary: "Bella had the perfect life. The perfect husband to love, the perfect house, the perfect job.. everything perfect. Until one night the shutters came up and the perfect movie life she thought she was living came crashing down around her. Enter... The Sexy Bella.. After shenanigans in the tool shed go awry, Bella's forced into sex therapy with one hot looking doctor. But when he can't handle her, he calls the only person he knows who can ... A series of unusual sessions, admissions and out and out seduction become the norm for her Tuesday Appointments. But will Bella ever get any better? "
Disclaimer: All things Twilight not mine.. songs mentioned.. nah, I'm not that clever. Silly plot and situations, yeh, I'll claim that :D
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Chapter Twenty One - Dinner for Two
"A kick to the teeth is good for some, A kiss with a fist is better then none"
Florence and The Machine - A Kiss With A Fist (Is Better Than None)
I should have known it wasn't going to last.
As if I had the right to happiness.
Not after all the hurt I'd caused. The fucked up 'life' I'd led and the decisions I'd made that affected all the people around me.
I should have known.
There was no way, no way, that what we had had been a one-sided affair, that I could have been the only one that felt how right we were together. I couldn't argue with him forever, and everything I questioned, he had an answer for. Jasper had obviously made up his mind, no matter how badly I thought he was lying to himself. To me.
In the end, I just gave up. I went upstairs, packed my things, and walked back out the front door to the car that I hadn't used in almost six weeks. I didn't cry anymore; I wouldn't let myself.
I'd cried enough over men who'd said they loved me, but didn't actually know what love was. I wouldn't be the one who was left a crumpled heap on the floor just because someone was yet again hiding from what they really felt.
If neither of these men wanted who I was, then I would just move on. Even if it hurt, and what happened in that house boat had more than ripped my heart to shreds. It had torn it from my chest with a dull spoon, and then proceeded to flay the unbeating muscle strip by painful strip.
But I would not shed a single tear more. I was done being pitiful and weak.
I would just have to go home and face a future alone.
The first night I spent back at my old house was the hardest.
Everything was too quiet.
Too clean.
Too empty.
Too… without Jasper.
The strange thing was - I wasn't lonely. I was alone, but not lonely in the least. I had my anger to keep me company. There was another message for Edward from his lawyers. This time, they mentioned a real estate agent.
So, he was selling the house, too.
This made me even angrier. It shouldn't have because, even though I'd lived here with him our entire married life, I had no claim to it. Sure, a few things here were mine. Some even belonged to both of us, from when we'd lived together in my little rental apartment, but nothing in here had ever felt like it was ours. Felt like us.
What the hell had I done the entire time we'd been together? Better yet, what had Edward done? Had he actually been happy with the life that we'd had? Was he ever happy with me? Even before the affairs, before me cheating on him emotionally, or physically - had he been happy?
What about 'us' had any resemblance to what a true marriage should be? One of partnership. Of give and take and support. I'd always supported him. When he'd changed his mind about going into private practice, I'd attended every stupid function we could to get him every new promotion possible. I'd smiled and been ever so polite, and I guess that was when Perfect Wife had come out to play.
When he'd started getting more invitations to teach at universities across the country, when he began to have his skills needed by victims of burns, and tragic accidents and things - I'd let him go. Even when he'd stopped offering to take me with him, I'd never said a word. I just grew more and more bored with our life until Sexy B took over and made life interesting again.
It was my fault that everything had gone wrong. I'd never spoke up about what I wanted, or what I needed. I'd just created alternative personalities to get the job done. I'd never talked to Edward about any of it.
He'd never spoken up either.
Edward had never said how anything I did or didn't do had made him feel, he'd never told me how anything I did affected him - not even when we'd been in therapy with Carlisle had he even gotten angry. The only - only - time I'd heard him raise his voice was the night he left me and I went to Jasper. What was it about Jasper that made him finally crack?
Was it the fact that I was so close to him? Edward knew that the relationship we'd built was strong. He knew how well I'd regarded Jasper's opinion, how much I'd opened up to him about everything. Did he see Jasper as some kind of adversary?
I was so utterly confused by the mess my life had become. I had no Jasper, no Edward. I wasn't even going to have a roof above my head, but I had one thing.
I had me.
And I wouldn't let her down anymore.
I wouldn't sit back and allow the fact that I'd lost two loves destroy all the hard work I had done to figure out who I was; I wouldn't let them take that away from me. If Jasper didn't want me, I would be okay with that.
It hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before - but I would become okay with that. I would get past it just as I would get past my marriage with Edward ending. It was with that in mind that I finally succumbed to a dreamless sleep, lying in the bed that had, at one time, been made for two.
~8~
I went back to see Garrett on the next Tuesday. A new time for a new doctor. Same building, though, just a different office. I pretended that it didn't hurt knowing that Jasper was around somewhere. I kept my gaze straight ahead as I walked past his door toward the corner office where Garrett was now working full time.
We talked about everything- including Jasper, though without naming names as I didn't want to get him into trouble. I was angry at why he wanted us to be over, but I didn't want to unnecessarily hurt him. I couldn't - and wouldn't - be vicious like that.
Garrett was happy with my progress in the weeks I hadn't been to see him. What he wasn't pleased with was the fact I had shifted so quickly from one committed relationship to another. He used familiar words like transference, and a few other labels that Jasper had used - it was eerily reminiscent of the argument Jasper and I'd had. All of what he stated - or restated, as the case were - made me rethink why I wasn't as broken up about Jasper and I ending as I felt I should be. When Edward had walked away, I lay broken on our bedroom floor. When Jasper had pushed me out the door, I'd gone back home with my head held high, determined not to lose myself in a world of hurt.
He also thought I should talk to Edward, find out exactly what was going on, and to make up my own mind about whether I wanted to push for what we'd had - what we could have again - or let go and move on.
Not that I had anyone to move on with anymore.
Not that I felt I needed anyone to move on.
When I returned to the house, Edward was there.
His luggage was unpacked and already in the washer, and his classical music played softly throughout. Everywhere I looked, there were little pieces of him filling the previously"Edward empty" spaces: A glass tumbler with only the murky leftovers of ice and his Johnny Walker left in the bottom sitting on the kitchen bench, His briefcase lying on the desk in his office. His dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper, one muted olive tie hanging over the edge. The pair of shiny black shoes that had been missing was now lined up amongst his others.
When I entered our bedroom, he was asleep - his bronze waves sticking up all over the place, his face completely free of care lying on the side of his pillow as his back rose and fell in time with his even breaths. The sheet barely covered his naked torso, as he had just thrown himself on the bed after showering like he always did when he returned from conferences and trips away.
Edward mumbled in his sleep, a word I couldn't make out, and then his hand was on my side of the bed, his fingers stretching out again, and again. Reaching… reaching out for me. My heart squeezed and my stomach burned at the sight in front of me. How I could look upon him and still love him after pushing him from my mind for so long?
He called my name and it was if he knew that I was standing there. As if he knew where I was even when he wasn't alert. His voice was a husky tenor filled with longing as he called my name again. I sat on the edge of the bed and tentatively placed my hand on his. He sighed and the tiny lines in his forehead smoothed out.
"You're home," he mumbled, pulling me down onto the bed. I lay there beside him, hardly breathing at all. This was too much, too weird after everything I'd been through, everything I'd done.
"So are you," I whispered, my throat clenching over the words as he pulled my hand toward his face, his lips pressing softly against my palm.
"I missed you. I was away for too long. I left you alone for too long."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused by his words. Yes, he'd left, but what did he mean by being away? Leaving me alone?
"I left you here, at home. Not again. Not anymore. I've fixed it." He yawned, and let his hand trail along my arm, down around my waist, tugging me closer until his head rested on top of mine.
"I can't let you go."
~8~
Sleep wasn't as easy that night.
Edward slipped easily back to sleep, snoring peacefully, while I lay there for hours. I couldn't figure out what he meant. Did he think that I'd been at the house the entire time? Did he think that I had just waited around for him to come home?
Of course, before I could figure out what his jumbled words meant, I drifted off myself, and when I woke in the morning, he was gone, the sheets rumpled with a single red rose left atop his pillow. That he'd do something so sweet - had remembered something from when we had first dated - made me tear up.
Then there was a note in the kitchen telling me he'd be back later that evening, that he was so happy to be home again, and not to worry about why he'd been gone so long. He'd tell me soon enough.
The note was as cryptic as his words had been the night before, and it was only as I was sitting out on our patio, overlooking a familiar body of water, that I realized what he was referring to.
He thought I'd been here the entire time he was gone.
When he had left that night, over a month and a half ago, he had just assumed I'd stayed here wallowing. He'd assumed that I'd continued our normal bland existence, hadn't thought I was worthy of anything else. He believed that I would just sit here and silently await his return just as I had done all the times before.
How could he have been so wrong?
I didn't know whether to be angry or sad. Angry that he thought so little of me, that he assumed I wouldn't react to him leaving me. Or sad that he hadn't noticed my absence from his life at all.
So I waited, and I planned for the night ahead.
A night filled with food, some wine, and maybe a few words on what we were, and what we wanted out of this relationship..
If there was any relationship to continue.
~8~
It would be the first real meal that we'd had together in far too long, so I agreed and left to put a few things back in the warmer. As the day had worn on, I'd become more and more angry about how easily he'd assumed that I'd just accept his words, and his leaving that night. That I would just wait for him to forgive me, like some loyal puppy awaiting his master after being scolded for chewing his slippers. I was twitching with all I wanted to say, so much so that I ended up having a drink to calm my nerves. Which led to me drinking more and more of the wine that I'd picked especially for the meal.
Dutch courage is what I'd called it.
Although, I'm fairly certain the Dutch stop at one.
I'd had a bottle before he even sent the message that he would be home on time.
He walked in the door at seven, and asked if he had enough time to shower before dinner. His shower was quick, and he came down the stairs smelling of soap and man and everything that, at one time, had made my heart flutter. Now it just curdled my stomach. It wasn't the same soap, it wasn't the same clean that my heart longed for, but my head told me to forget about cinnamon and the rest. It wasn't important. Edward was.
He was quiet as he sat at the table. I'd set out everything that he liked, cooked his favorite pot roast, those honey baby carrots and that special brand of peas. Fuck, I'd even gone all out and made, from the crust up, my apple and blueberry tart that he used to adore! Yet, he said nothing.
I waited for him to make the first move, to talk about whatever his so-called 'explanations' were as to why he'd been away for so long.
Left me 'alone' for longer than he deemed necessary.
After a polite hello, he asked me if I wanted a drink - only then noting the near full glass of red in my hand. He asked how I had been. I answered fine. He didn't mention the fact it had been almost two months since we had spoken, and neither did I. We sat in what he probably thought was a contented silence.
It was awkward, and it felt…wrong.
So I brought out the food and started the meal.
I wanted to ask about the phone call, and where he'd gone. I wanted to know what he'd meant last night in our bedroom, for him to realize that I hadn't been here waiting for his return. I wanted him to ask me the same questions and to care about what had happened - what I'd done - during the time we'd spent apart, but he was either too worried what my answers would be, or he didn't care. I didn't know, and the longer the silence stretched between us, the angrier I became.
Just like every other meal we'd had together.
Just like all the time we'd ever spent together.
Just like our entire marriage… so much left unsaid, and it really, really pissed me off.
The only sounds in the room came from the metallic scraping of his knife and fork on the fine bone china that was part of his mother's wedding dowry, and had been in the Masen family for generations. It was our "good" china, and I knew how special it was to him.
In the beginning, when we'd been in that honeymoon stage after our wedding, I had used them all the time. It had been our regular Sunday dinner routine back in the days before Gina had taken over kitchen duties. I'd slave away all day in the kitchen over his favorite meal, and then set our places at our ridiculously long ten person dining table - him at one end, me at the other - and we'd drink and talk and laugh until the food was gone.
As I recalled, after those dinners we'd end up in opposite ends of the house. He'd retire to his office to do more research on some new technique, or whatever operation he was working on in the week. I'd head upstairs, have a long bath, and finish off the bottle of red we'd had with dinner. Even back then we'd been apart, we'd never been as together as I had thought.
Had I really imagined that I was happy, that I had ever been happy here?
With that thought, I dropped my cutlery rather noisily and refilled my wine glass from the bottle of Pinot Noir that was now more than half empty, mostly from me. As I lifted the glass to my lips, I noticed the look Edward was giving me.
His eyes had narrowed over the tops of the thin metal frames he occasionally wore when he'd been studying some new medical procedure, and lips were pursed in a fine line.
"What, Edward?" I swirled the wine in the glass before drinking the last of what was left in my glass in one gulp.
"Nothing, Isabella." He shook his head, sighed and returned to slicing the meat on his plate into perfect little squares. He was so ridiculously anal.
"No, Edward, you obviously wanted to say something. Now what is it?" I placed my glass back on the table and, as I lifted the bottle to refill it yet again, he sighed once more.
I ground my teeth, trying to stop myself from saying something I shouldn't. Stupid Jasper and his grand idea that I could salvage anything with Edward. It was ridiculous. Edward's sighing and groaning over me having a little bit to drink, and my reaction was proof of how wrong he was. It had been his decision though. He had kicked me out. He didn't want me.
"Bella," Edward sighed, taking off his glasses and placing them on the table. He closed his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose, before carefully folding his napkin and setting it to the side of his plate like he always did. Always so freaking particular and poised.
"What, Edward? Can't I have a drink now? Is that some new rule to add to the many you already have for me?"
Fuck, he just annoyed me with his holier than thou attitude. I should be allowed to get drunk if I wanted. I had plenty to drink about.
"I don't want to argue, love."
He ran a hand over the top of his head, pulling at the strands that had fallen across his forehead. To think I used to love doing that - moving his hair, playing with the kinks that would never sit right no matter how you pushed and pulled them. Not now, though. That familiar move, that "I'm annoyed" tug of the hair just… pissed. Me. Off.
"Of course you don't want to argue! That would actually mean having a conversation of sort with me, wouldn't it? And we couldn't have that, now could we, love?" My foot tapped on the hardwood floor in aggravation.
"Isabella, I just want to eat the beautiful meal you've made for us. I don't want to argue with you. I'd rather we left it. Drink if you want to."
He picked up his knife and fork, and resumed his perfect little organization of meat, peas and potato on the end of his fork. My toe tapping continued. I needed an outlet seeing as he wasn't going to say anything else. He never wanted to argue. Just another way of pushing everything that was wrong under the rug, of pushing me away.
"Fine." I filled the glass to the brim, and lifted it to my lips, drinking until it was empty again.
He said nothing. Not a sigh, not a groan - I didn't even warrant a roll of the eyes. Nothing.
Did anything at all affect him? Silence fell around us like a heavy blanket.
"Aren't you even going to ask me what I did while you were away?" Fuck this. I was so fucking tired of being quiet. All of this 'love' and 'Isabella'...were beyond annoying, especially the way he said my name; it was too close to how Dr. Jasper had spoken it only a few nights ago when he'd torn everything I had thought I had always wanted - had thought I had finally found - completely and utterly apart.
Edward placed his cutlery down on top of his napkin, sat back in his chair, and let his hands rest on his lap. He looked the epitome of relaxed. "What did you do while I was away?"
"I saw Jasper."
Saw, licked, nibbled, touched, inhaled every inch of that golden haired god of sex.
"Bella," Edward started, his eyes closed, and I could already see his hands clenching into fists. Good. I wanted him to hurt the way I hurt. I wanted him to show me that he felt something.
"I saw a lot of him, actually." That tattoo that curved along his spine, the scars on his arm, the way he slept with his mouth open and would drool a little...
I saw a lot.
"Stop." Edward's nostrils were flaring, but I was on a roll, and I wouldn't be stopped just because he said so. Not until I told him every last detail.
"I stayed at his houseboat until last Sunday."
He opened his mouth, but said nothing before closing it again. Silence stretched between us, like the illusion of an endless highway on the horizon, sizzling in the midday sun. I couldn't believe that he had nothing to say to this. That even when I was giving him cause for anger once more, he'd reverted to his usual emotional distance. To his willful ignorance of any part of me that he didn't like. He stood, picked up his plate and pushed his chair back.
"Where are you going?" I asked, incredulous that he was just walking away once more. That it was apparently so easy for him to resume his blissful ignorance of the most recent sexual escapades I'd had. I wouldn't go back to being Sexy B, but I wouldn't let Edward return to his barricaded walls of indifference either.
"I'm finished, Isabella. I'm putting my plate away, and thinking about having a piece of that pie I smelled earlier. If that's alright with you."
I just about snapped the stem of the wine glass in my hand. Was he going to sweep it all under the carpet again? Did I really not matter to him at all? How could he be so forgiving?
"No, you always do that. You always say nothing, and walk away. Tell me, Edward! Tell how this makes you feel?"
He sighed again, pushing his chair in, and moved to walk away. I couldn't believe he was just leaving, and what was with the fucking sighing? Was it really that hard to tell me what he thought?
"Don't you care that your wife, your wife, spent the month and a half while we were separated in someone else's arms? Don't you care at all that I was wrapped around him at night, and didn't once think of you? That I made love to him over and over, and you were the furthest thing from my thoughts? Doesn't any of this mean anything to you?"
Anger at his ambivalence spewed like poison with my every word. I couldn't take it any longer. I hated that he thought I had just stayed here awaiting his return, and that he never once cared to ask me why I hadn't called him.
His total lack of interest in me, once more, had my blood boiling, and I wouldn't stand idly by any longer. This would be it. This would be the make or break of us, and I wouldn't be finished, wouldn't allow him to leave until we'd lain bare what we were, and what we could be. No stone left unturned. No words left unsaid. This would be the make or break of us.
I could see the muscle in his jaw bulging as his face turned scarlet red. Maybe I had finally pushed him to do something. I was so tired of living here with this ghost. This man who I had once thought meant everything to me was like a statue when it came to anything that meant showing how he felt, how anything actually affected him.
He stood shaking in his place, and his knuckles had turned white on the edge of the plate in his hand.
Without another word, he turned and threw the plate across the room.
The sound of the china smashing against the wall left me stunned. I watched the gravy-soaked meat and vegetables slide slowly down the wall until my head snapped back in his direction from the anger and venom in his next words.
"Is this what you want, Bella? Do you want me to smash our things? Do you want me to yell and rage? Do you want me to hit you? Cause you pain like your words do to me? Hurt you the way you've hurt me over and over again? Is that what you want?"
I should have been frightened. I'd never, ever seen him so wild.
He hadn't turned me on like this…
Ever.
"Is it?" he spat, his hands squeezing and releasing rapidly.
Tense. Release. Tense. Release.
I gulped, placing my shaking hands together on my lap. I didn't know what to say.
"I asked you a question, Bella," he literally snarled at me.
"I-I want you to fight for me. I want you to care."
My eyes widened as he took in my words, shaking his head. His hands continued to tense and release in the same pattern that he'd begun moments before, only this time they were visibly shaking when he closed them tight.
"Fight? You think I wouldn't fight for you, Bella?"
He strode around the table like a lion eyeing its prey. When the fuck did I turn into prey? I'd stopped breathing the moment he moved. He stood beside my chair, shoving my plate to the side as he rested one hand on the table, the other on my shoulder. I felt him move closer, the heat radiated off his body like a naked flame that burned through his crisp, black button down. I shuddered as his teeth scraped the lobe of my ear.
"This is what you want, isn't it? You like me being out of control, this excites you, doesn't it?"
My breaths came quick and fast as my pulse raced. Who the fuck was this, and where had he been hidden in all the time we'd been together? Anything I was going to say completely left my thoughts. I couldn't take my eyes from his as they were burned into mine. I could feel his heated breath on my neck, and my shoulder shook where his fingers dug hard into the skin.
"Answer me, Bella." His words caressed my neck as his tongue licked a warm trail down to my collarbone. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I waited for him to do something, anything.
Then he fucking growled. If my panties weren't wet before, they were damn near dripping after that, and when he bit the skin there…
Fuck me. I think I came a little.
"Y-Yes," I stuttered when his tongue laved at the indentation his teeth had left.
Without another word, his hand swept the dishes off the table, and onto the floor where they landed in a cacophony of noise as the heirloom china shattered. I winced at the sound. The plates, the crystal stemware - he'd smashed them all.
"Stand up," he pulled at my arm, and I quickly complied, not wanting to see what he'd do if I didn't. Would the spell he was apparently under be broken if I stopped now? I certainly didn't want it to be. The only thing I could think, see and feel was this new, rejuvenated Edward in front of me.
His fingertips brushed lightly down either side of my arms leaving a burning trail in their wake. His hands stilled at my hips and, in a quick move, he had me up and sitting on the edge of the table. Without a word, he pushed at my shoulder, pressing me back onto the, now empty table's surface. My eyes closed of their own accord when his hand pushed my legs apart, and then I felt the soft linen of his pants move between them.
I wanted to groan, moan, move, but I didn't want him to stop. Every touch, every kiss was pushing Jasper further toward the back of my mind. I needed this as much as Edward obviously did. His fingertips grazed up the inside of my legs, gathering the bottom of my grey wool skirt up. I lifted my hips as his hands moved higher, his thumbs dipped under the elastic of my panties, and he pulled them down in one quick, rough motion. He stepped back to remove them from my feet, tugging on my foot to bring my ass to the edge of the table.
The distinct sound of his fly being unzipped was loud in the quiet that existed between us amongst heavy breaths. His fiery green eyes were locked on mine when his fingers encircled my ankles, bringing one, then the other up and over his shoulder. My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard as the tip of his cock nudged against my slick folds.
"This turns you on, doesn't it? Did he do this to you? Did he treat you like this?"
His grip on my hips tightened as he pressed just the tip of his cock into my entrance. I didn't want to hear about Jasper right now. I wanted to focus on him, and the feelings he had coursing through my body with his touch. Was he finally going to fuck me? Here on our dining room table, with his pants around his ankles like this?
"My Bella," Edward grunted, and took my breath away as he thrust forward with no warning.
He had never, never, been like this with me. My fingers grabbed frantically at the tabletop, hopelessly trying to find something, anything, to hold on to when he pulled out and thrust in again, filing me completely.
"This is what you want, isn't it?"
His voice was a deep rasp as he slammed in and out of my body, his fingers pressing painfully into the soft skin of my waist. I could feel that band in the pit of my stomach tightening with every push and pull. All I could do was breathe and hang on as his movements sent me rushing toward my release.
"Tell me I'm what you need." He pulled at my hips, lifting them higher, the new angle hitting that sweet spot inside, and I couldn't help but cry out.
"Say it!" he barked, increasing the tempo of his thrusts until everything burned.
I gasped, and writhed against him. His eyes were glued to mine, a darker shade of green than I'd ever seen before; he looked like a man possessed. Sweat beaded upon his brow, and a wild tangle of copper locks had fallen slightly over his eyes, every thrust bouncing a wayward curl against the line of his nose.
"Yes!" I shouted in return, his tight hold on my hips preventing me from moving forward. I could only arch my back as I felt my legs begin to shake, and my muscles liquefy around me. This felt beyond good. I was so close to the edge, I just needed something. Something more. I needed…
He pulled my legs down from his shoulders then slipped his arms under my back, and gripped my shoulders, pulling me up. In one quick movement, he sat on the chair, taking me with him to sit on his lap, his cock still buried deep inside me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, our eyes locked, and I somehow found the strength to move. His body thrust up into mine as I ground down onto his hard length. My insides were twitching, pulsing, and readying for the high that I was so close to achieving.
"Tell me I'm enough," he whispered hoarsely in my ear, resting his head on my shoulder. Edward's hand left my hip, moving in between the small space between us, slipping, sliding, circling over sensitive flesh. Words were no longer an option. I was close. So very close, but I needed… I needed…
"Tell me I'm who you want." I could feel his breath on my neck, chilling my overheated skin as sweat ran down my back. His hand moved up my spine, pushing the silk fabric of my shirt. This was hard, fast and amazing and he hadn't even taken the time to undress me.
I pulled the curls at the nape of his neck; I wanted more, needed more. Resting my open mouth on his collarbone as his hips rocked into me faster, I gasped air soundlessly with every thrust he made. The room filled with the sounds of his grunts and moans, but I couldn't say a word. Maybe it wasn't a 'what' that I needed…
Maybe it was a 'who'.
"Say it!" he growled as his fingers circled faster and faster, sending me higher and higher. His teeth grazed against the skin of my neck, pressing into my flesh as his fingers pinched my clit.
A word fell from my lips, but I was deaf to all sound, and white light invaded my sight while wave after wave of pleasure assaulted my body. I kissed my way up along his neck, brushing my lips quickly across his jaw and, as I went to bite on that juicy bottom lip of his, he moved his head to the side.
I sat back a little, and noticed that he was still inside me only he wasn't moving, and I knew that he hadn't come. I moved my hips, grinding my pelvis into his, but was stopped by his hands coming to hold my hips still. I ran one hand around from the back of his neck, laying my fingers against his jaw, to turn his head back to me, totally unprepared for the tears shining in his eyes.
"Edward, what's wrong?" I asked, rubbing my thumb across his chin, and into the little indentation there. He looked so sad, and the look alone broke my heart.
"Stop, Bella! Just stop." His voice caught on the words, and a solitary tear fell from the corner of one eye. I felt his hand rest upon mine, pulling it away from his face.
I frowned, twisting his fingers between mine. "Not until you tell me what's wrong. What happened? You were amazing, we've never -" I sighed, pressing my lips to his clammy forehead. "You were right there." I knew he was, I was aware of my actions long enough to recognize the familiar sounds of his imminent orgasmic bliss. I knew though, that I might have missed the roar when I was lost to my own.
He tried to turn his head again, looking over my shoulder, and he pulled at our joined hands, but I didn't want him to let go. I wanted to understand just what the fuck went wrong.
"Talk to me, Edward?"
"I'm not enough for you, am I? I-I thought…I thought if I did this - if I was what you wanted - we could put all of this behind us, but…" He choked on his next words, a loud sob tore from his chest, and he leaned forward, resting his head on my shoulder.
I froze. I felt sick, absolutely disgusted with myself. I, too, had thought this was what I wanted - his touch, that look he'd given me, how forceful he'd been - it had felt right, but confusing all the same. Jasper had been like a fire in my veins, burning away every vestige of what I thought I was, thought I knew, completely out of me. Those words he'd used the last time I saw him... Jasper had made it perfectly clear I wasn't wanted, and that I should try with Edward. Even now, when I did try, it wasn't enough. All I'd done was cause more hurt.
"I'm so sorry, Edward." I pulled his body close, and ran my free hand down his back, moving in slow soothing circles. All he'd ever done was love me, try to be everything for me, and this was how I repaid him? Made him think that he wasn't enough for me when, in reality, I wasn't any good for him. The way I'd treated him, the way we'd both checked out of this relationship in so many ways... Was there even anything left to salvage?
"Why aren't I enough for you? I'm trying so hard, I just want you to want me as much as I want you." His voice was shaky as he whispered the words into my chest, his head resting just above my still racing heart.
This was it. This was the where I decided if I wanted him, or wanted to move on.
Edward was what I needed.
"You are enough, Edward. We just need to find each other again. We need to find us again." I felt tears filling my own eyes, this between us, this had to be my priority. Working on our relationship, remembering what we were to each other, it was what we both wanted, both needed.
"Really? Do you think we can?" he asked, his words shaky as he lifted his head from my chest, his green eyes still sparkling with as hope registered on his tear stained face.
I nodded. If he could forgive me for my past indiscretions, if he could let all of that go, then I could too.
"Come with me then. Come to Miami."
Excuse me? Miami?
"What's in Miami, Edward?" The shake in my voice was for a completely different reason now. Sure, I wanted us to work; I wanted to work at being an 'us', but this? To move?
"Remember Peter Walsh? He's got a private practice down there. He's asked me to join his team. He did what you and I had talked about doing in the beginning, remember? Just you and me and a small practice. It's what I should have done in the first place, and I had my attorney draw up the paperwork."
And just like that, everything, all the things I'd assumed had one meaning, now so obviously had another.. "So the lawyers, the messages on the phone... You don't want a divorce? This was all about some practice?"
He nodded, smiling widely. "I told you, Bella, I told you that I couldn't leave you anymore. I love you too much, and I hate the thought of losing you. The lawyers, and stuff - that's what I was doing after I left you. I booked myself into the Four Seasons because I was just so angry and hurt, and I needed to think. I'd been there a week when Peter called, and it all clicked into place. He threw some numbers around, and mentioned how happy he and his wife were..."
He took my face between his hands, his long thumbs rubbing slow circles over my cheeks. "I want us to be happy again. I want us to be us again. It's more money, less hours, so I'll be able to give you the attention that I should have all along. All the little things that I should have done, and if I had, none of this would ever have happened." He looked excited now, hopeful that this would be the answer to all of our problems.
Could it? Could something as simple as leaving town, leaving behind the mess I'd created here, solve everything?
"Miami."
"Please, love. Please. Come with me." His eyes searched mine for an answer.
So I gave the only one I could give.
"Yes."
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A/n I love my failbeta ilsuocantante and amerymarie the one who catches all my problemos and points out how to fix them.
Pretty Porn contest - info at theLUSTorium DOT net
I'm playing around with a little Carlisle/Bella smutshot.. purely for fun, should be up in a week-ish, theres a Mad Men inspired slash short story on its way and the rest of Subway Stalkers should start posting in a week-ish too.
Things I'm reading
MOCKINGJAY! Feel free to discuss in reviews or pms!
My beautiful friend fngrcufs has written an amazing The Breakfast Club-esque femme slash o/s Saturday Mornings (and if you're not reading Conjunction you should be)
I read a few Slash/Back Slash entries and VampiresHaveLaws wrote a FAB angsty awesome Carlisle/Edward (it WAS a hard limit pairing for me but through a few awesome stories thats slowly changing) The Kindness of Strangers
All rec's SHOULD be in my C2 on FFn.
3 to go.