A/N: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Any similarities to the original characters or themes from the books or media franchise are used here for entertainment purposes only, with no monetary gain for me, the FanFiction author. All original content, ideas, and intellectual property of Rm w/ a Vu are mine . . .
. . . but the responsibility for the replacement of any ruined articles of clothing due to spontaneous combustion after reading this chapter is all yours.
Readers, reviewers . . . I love you all so very, VERY much.
Twimarti & tds88, my rock star betas, my friends, you guys have been nothing but supportive throughout this story, and I thank you SO MUCH for all of your outside advice along the way.
Chapter 16. FaceTime
"Miss," the nurse says calmly—most likely in an effort to stop the tantrum I'm throwing. "Dr. Cullen is a wonderful doctor. There'll be a nurse in here while he performs the exam, so there's no need to worry."
"What? Oh, that's not the problem at all," I assure her. "The problem is I'm dating his son—" I stop myself, because she's holding my chart and knows the reason I'm here, which means she's going to automatically assume that Edward is the reason I need to be tested. "No! Wait . . . that came out wrong. Well, no, it didn't, but . . ." My head starts to feel a little fuzzy, my heart is hammering in my increasingly tight-feeling chest, and each and every breath I struggle to take in feels sharp and hot.
Great, now I'm having an anxiety attack.
Seeing how rapidly I'm falling apart, the nurse tosses my file onto one of the chairs and grabs a hold of my hand and upper arm to ease me onto the exam table before I fall over. "Deep breaths, Miss Swan." She starts inhaling and exhaling slowly, setting a rhythm for me.
Obviously, I know how to breathe, but I follow her lead anyway, locking eyes with her to centre myself. When the ache in my chest eases, I shake the remaining haze from my head. "I was seeing a guy a while ago, and I found out he cheated on me. He's the reason I'm here. Not Dr. Cullen's son. I'm just trying to take the proper precautions so I don't put my new boyfriend at risk." It's the first time I've referred to Edward as my boyfriend, and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside—despite my lingering anxiety.
The nurse smiles, her understanding evident in her eyes. "All right, dear. I'll see if Dr. Gerandy is available. Will that do?"
I nod emphatically. "Yes. Thank you so much."
The nurse leaves me alone in the room, and, even though I'm definitely a little less anxious now that I've avoided having Edward's father as a doctor, I feel my nerves about the tests return.
Seriously, what are the odds of that happening? That kind of thing could only happen to me.
I only have to wait a few minutes before the nurse returns to tell me that Dr. Gerandy would be happy to see me. She asks me to change into the gown she's brought with her, and then tells me that she and the doctor will return shortly.
It's a short wait but feels like it takes ages. The exam goes quickly, and Dr. Gerandy's wonderful bedside manner definitely makes me feel at ease. The usual questions are asked, and I answer them all honestly.
First, he inquires about the last time I had sex, to which I tell him it's been well over a month—quite possibly two. Then he wants to know my current form of birth control; I tell him I'm on the shot. He asks when my last cycle was; I tell him it's been several months due to my birth control. Because of this, he asks if there's a possibility I might be pregnant, and I tell him that in addition to the shot, I never had unprotected sex. Ever. To err on the side of caution, Dr Gerandy orders not only the standard STD blood work in addition to his exam, but also a pregnancy test. I'm honestly not worried about that last one, though.
Once the exam is done, the doctor assures me the results will only take a day or two, and someone will give me a call no matter the outcome. This makes me feel better, and I thank him as he leaves me to get dressed.
I grab my requisition form for my blood work at the nurse's station and thank my nurse once again for doing what she did. I'm just turning to head for the exit when a door opens to my left, and Dr. Cullen walks out.
Like I said, this kind of thing could only happen to me.
"Bella," Carlisle says, seeming shocked to see me. "What a pleasant surprise. What brings you down here?"
"Uh, doctor's appointment," I tell him.
He laughs. "Right. Of course. I trust all went well?"
"Right as rain . . ." I'm not even sure how that idiom makes a lick of sense; all I do know is that I'm trying really hard to keep my voice from raising several octaves. "I should actually go." I start walking backward down the hall toward the door; it's probably hazardous to my physical well-being, but I'd probably be okay with a concussion and some mild amnesia right about now. "I have one more thing to do before I head back to school. It was good seeing you again."
"You, too," he calls after me.
The lab isn't far from the clinic, so I decide to walk, hoping the cool, fresh air will help clear my head of all the muddled thoughts and paranoia. Because I don't have an appointment, I'm told it could possibly be a little bit of a wait, but I'm okay with that. While I could book an appointment for tomorrow, I need to get this over with as soon as possible. For me. For Edward. For us.
Just like at the doctor's office, I check in at the main desk and take a seat to wait my turn. People come. People go. Some people go into the back and then return to the waiting room and start reading a magazine because they have to go back for another round of testing. I hope I won't be one of those people; having my blood drawn is bad enough. I can feel my stomach churning with unease the more I think about it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I dig it out and see that I've received a text from Edward. A welcome distraction.
How did it go?
Exam's done . . .
My thumb hovers over the send button for a brief moment before I decide to add more.
—almost had your DAD as my doctor. WTH?
I watch the screen of my iPhone and smile when I see the little ellipsis bubble show up that signifies Edward is responding. Then my phone vibrates in my hand.
O.o Sorry, babe. I didn't realize he'd be at the clinic today—he's usually at the hospital. Sooo…?
They want me to have blood tests. They'll call when the results are in.
It doesn't take long before his next message comes in.
And how are you doing?
I pause for a moment, trying to find the words to explain what a mess I've been up until now. It's not that I want to withhold anything from him; I just don't want Edward to worry himself over the fact that I had a minor meltdown.
I've had better mornings. Experienced a small anxiety attack at the clinic, but I'm okay now. I just want this done.
Part of me hesitates before pressing send, but I do it because I know he's probably just as anxious about all of this as I am. His response is immediate.
Me, too. Should I duck out and come wait with you? I don't mind.
I'm tempted to tell him yes, and I'm actually just starting to do just that, when my name is called out. I quickly erase the beginning of my message and tap out a new one.
They just called me back. I'll phone you when I'm done.
I put my phone back in my pocket and head toward the woman who is waiting to fill several vials with my blood. A shudder works its way down my spine, and my stomach rolls at the idea. I can feel the blood draining from my face as I get closer and closer to that damn chair, but I make it. Barely.
"You okay, hun?" the older technician asks, tearing open one of those packets with a sterile wipe inside it.
I try to focus on her, taking in the white lab coat that covers her fuller frame, her salt and pepper hair tightly pulled back into a low bun, and the glasses that sit perched on her small, button nose. Sadly, this does little to really help. I smell the alcohol on the swab and instantly turn my head away, clenching my eyes shut. "Yeah," I tell her in a strangled voice. "I just hate having blood drawn. I'm a little squeamish."
I feel the rubber tourniquet wrap around my upper arm, pinching the skin slightly before I feel her warm finger run over the bend of my elbow. "Don't worry, dear," she says softly. "It'll be over before you know it."
I take several deep breaths, matching them to each stroke her finger makes over my engorged vein. Her pressure intensifies after a couple before stopping, and I wait for the pain of the needle piercing my skin. I count to ten, then to fifteen, and then to twenty. Every second feels like minutes before I feel the pressure soften and the pinch of the rubber around my arm cease.
"There you go," the tech says cheerfully. "All done."
My head snaps toward my arm to see she's holding a cotton ball in place with her thumb while she tears off a piece of medical tape to secure it. "That was . . . I didn't even feel it."
Smiling warmly, she pats my hand. "This isn't my first rodeo, honey."
With a nervous laugh, I pull my sleeve down over my arm carefully and stand up. "So, the results . . .?"
"Will probably be ready in a day or two," she replies, telling me the same thing my doctor already did. I'll admit, I was hopeful for same-day results.
I thank her and pull my phone out of my pocket, dialing Edward's number as I exit the building and walk toward Alice's car. A part of me thought that I'd feel better after getting all of this done, but now the wait for the results is weighing on me—suffocating me.
"Hey." His warm voice fills my head as I slip into the driver's seat. "How are you doing?"
"Honestly, I can't believe I even have to be doing this," I admit, my voice trembling. "As if it wasn't bad enough he cheated . . . but this?"
"I know," he tells me softly. "What can I do?"
"Come pick me up?" I ask. "I'm headed back to have lunch with Alice because I promised her we'd talk, but I don't think I can concentrate enough to go to class this afternoon."
"Yeah. I'll finish up and let Rose know I'll be working from home the rest of the afternoon. I can be there in an hour?"
We hang up with each other and I head back to the school. After parking the car, I head inside and to the food court to wait for Alice. I know I should probably eat something, but I have no appetite.
Alice finds me within seconds and foregoes her own need for food to come sit with me. "How did everything go?"
"Fine," I reply quietly. "The doctor had them do a pregnancy test too."
Alice's eyes go wide. "What? You don't think you're—"
"God, no! We were always safe, and I'm on birth control," I assure her. "It's just standard procedure."
Exhaling heavily, Alice flops back in her chair and shakes her head. "Well, thank God! So, when do you find out?"
"In a day or two."
There's a brief pause, and as I look across the table at Alice, I notice that she's staring blankly ahead. Finally, she blinks and smiles at me. "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
I shrug. "Maybe, but it's all I can think about. I'm actually heading home in a bit. Edward's on his way to come pick me up."
"I think that's a good idea."
A familiar laugh booms through the court, drawing my eyes up. There, about thirty feet away, is Jake, and he's surrounded by several women. I'm not jealous about the attention he's bestowing on them, but I am irritated by how they're clinging to him as though they don't know what a jackass he is; I find it hard to believe that his tryst with Leah hasn't made the gossip chain.
"Ugh," I grunt, rolling my eyes. "He's such a dog. I can't believe I ever fell for that."
Alice turns and looks where I am. "You know, someone should probably tell them that when you sleep with dogs, you tend to get fleas." I laugh, even though I shouldn't, given my current predicament.
My laughter dies the minute I glance off to the right and see Edward appear, but the smile remains on my face, even widening a little more. I thank Alice again for the use of her car and give her a hug just as Edward arrives at our table.
"Hello, Alice," he says cordially, looking down at me, likely trying to see how well I'm holding up.
"Hey. Good to see you again," she says, standing up and excusing herself to grab lunch before class.
"Was Rose mad?" I ask as Edward wraps an arm around me and leads me through the room.
Chuckling, he leans in and kisses the top of my head. "Rose works for me. She's not allowed to be mad."
I glance up at Edward skeptically; I may not have known the woman for very long, but I have a feeling that she wears the pants in that working relationship. He only reaffirms my suspicions with a smile and a shrug before he speaks. "No, she wasn't mad. I don't ask for much time out of the office, plus there's not much to be done before I leave on Wednesday."
I may not like the idea of being apart from Edward very much, but I realize that he loves his job, and I could never take something that important away from him. I love the way his eyes light up when he talks about work. Sure, I may not understand most of it, but for him, I'd learn. He's so passionate about it that it makes me want to understand so I can share it with him.
As we reach the hall that will lead us outside, Jake and his groupies laugh again, gaining Edward's attention. His step falters, but I give him a gentle tug to keep him moving. "Come on. Take me home," I urge, clutching the front of his t-shirt gently. "Whatever they're talking about doesn't concern us . . . and if it does, I don't care."
Smiling, Edward nods and leans down to press a kiss onto my forehead. "You're right."
"Naturally," I tease.
Outside, Edward leads me through the lot to where he parked the car, and we head for home. Once there, he ushers me off to the living room and tells me he's going to make me a cup of tea. His need to take care of me makes me feel so incredibly special, and it's definitely something I've enjoyed getting used to.
Before I go and make myself cozy, I head upstairs to change out of my jeans. I pull on a pair of yoga pants and my loose grey sweater before heading back downstairs. I figure the sweater is my best wardrobe choice so as not to tease Edward while we wait to hear from the clinic. It's still not entirely innocent, since the neck opening has a tendency to slip off my shoulder from time to time, but it's better than nothing—obviously.
As I descend the stairs, Edward is just passing through on his way toward the living room, and I suddenly reconsider my outfit as his eyes widen and move down my body.
"I, uh, wanted to change into something more comfortable than jeans," I explain, tugging at the hem of the long sweater as I fall into step with him. I settle back on the couch before Edward hands me my tea, and we sit in silence for a bit before Edward asks about the tests.
"It wasn't so bad—especially after I was able to convince the nurse that I needed a different doctor," I tell him, my cheeks heating a little.
"Yeah, I'm still sorry about that," he says genuinely. "I really didn't think to warn you he might be at the clinic today. He does a few shifts there a month, but works mostly out of the hospital."
I shake my head. "Oh, no. Don't worry about it. Everything worked out . . . I still ran into him after my appointment, but that wasn't so bad." I pause to take another sip of my warm tea. "Dr. Gerandy was great. He ordered all the standard tests, and even a pregnancy test." Edward sputters on the sip he's just taken, his eyes going wide as he looks up at me. "OH! Not at my request. I'm positive I'm not pregnant. It's just a precaution."
He still seems a little freaked out, so I set my tea on the coffee table and scoot over on the couch until I'm right next to him. "I'd know if I was. And I'm not. Okay?"
Edward nods slowly. "Yeah, of course. It just took me by surprise, is all." Leaning forward, he puts his cup next to mine and suddenly pulls me across his lap. It shocks me, but in the best way. One of my arms is wrapped around his neck while his left hand grips my hip, his thumb moving back and forth beneath the loose hem of my shirt. "And the results?" he asks in a low, gravelly voice.
When his eyes lock with mine, I see that familiar spark of desire, and my heart quickens. Moving my hand, I run it up along the back of his neck and twist my fingers into his soft hair with a soft sigh. "Will be in tomorrow or Wednesday," I tell him.
His hand moves from my hip and down over my outer thigh, and a deep tingle starts in my belly and moves down to settle not too far from where his hand is. I want to urge him to shift his hand inward, but rationally, I know this is not a good idea. "Edward," I whisper, my eyes dancing back and forth between his. "We can't." I can't even hear the conviction in my wavering voice, so it doesn't surprise me when his hand travels over and up a little until he's cupping my ass. "N-not until we know."
He exhales forcefully, his warm breath fanning across my cheek and neck. "I know, but it's just so difficult to keep my hands off of you," he admits, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. He doesn't let the kiss get out of hand, pulling away just as my lips begin to part.
"So," I say hoarsely, licking my lips. "What should we do today?"
Just then, my stomach rumbles, and Edward chuckles. "Lunch it is," he announces, patting my backside and standing us both up before leading me to the kitchen in search of food.
All afternoon, Edward does a wonderful job keeping my mind off of the impending test results, always being sure to find something for the two of us to do. We decide not to go for a swim considering the level of semi-nudity that would be involved in such an activity, but we go for a long walk around the neighbourhood after lunch, curl up on the couch and watch a couple of movies, and cook dinner together. After dinner, we're at a total loss, when Edward suggests playing a video game.
"Um, I'm not very good at video games," I confess sheepishly.
Edward laughs, taking me by the hand and leading me upstairs. "Works for me. I'm tired of losing."
"Oh, good," I tease. "I see we're going to keep this fair."
Edward opens the door to the game room, and we step inside. I flop down on the leather couch and watch as Edward opens the cabinet below the wall-mounted TV and starts reciting the names of his video games. I decide on the sports one because Edward seems the most excited about it.
As he puts the game in the console, I cross my legs in front of me and settle back against the couch. Edward sees this and eyes me curiously. "What are you doing?"
"Getting ready to game," I tell him, holding out my hands. "Controller, please."
Edward shakes his head, slaps his hands against mine, and clasps them before pulling me to my feet. "This game doesn't use controllers."
I'm not so in the dark that I don't know what this means, and I suddenly feel nervous. "I don't know about this."
"Come on," Edward says, waving his hand at the TV, and I stifle a giggle at the sight. He moves through a variety of screens until we get to one where we select the game we want to play. "You pick."
"Oh, um . . ." I look at all of my options, finally settling on tennis. It's been years since I've played, but I feel I'm probably better at that than, say, skiing.
I have to admit, it's a lot of fun—even if I feel a little silly at first. Naturally, Edward wins the first several games, but I'd like to think it has more to do with him trying to make me laugh on purpose with his over-exaggerated arm movements whenever he hits the ball.
After a couple hours, I'm feeling pretty worn out from both the game and the non-stop laughter. "Okay," I tell Edward. "While you kicking my ass repeatedly has been wonderful, I'm wiped. What do you say we head to bed . . . that is, if you want to?"
Edward smiles. "Of course I want to. I'll just tidy up in here, and I'll meet you in your room?"
Just like the night before, I turn down my comforter and crawl in to wait for Edward. It's not long before he comes into my room in his flannel pants and t-shirt and crawls into my bed behind me. He wraps his arm around me and holds me close, his fingers working the hem of my shirt up so he can lightly trail them over the exposed flesh of my abdomen.
His lips press down on the back of my neck, and he pulls my body closer to his as he whispers, "Sweet dreams, beautiful."
"Mmm," I hum contentedly. "Goodnight, Edward. Thanks for being with me today, and for being so great about all of this."
"There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be," he tells me. "Now, let's get some sleep."
Even though Edward was able to keep my mind off of everything that I've gone through today, now that I'm lying idle in bed, my mind begins to replay everything. Edward must be able to sense this, because he presses another kiss to the back of my neck and tightens his arm around me, calming me.
As I lay there, I realize that falling asleep would have been next to impossible if not for the fact that I had Edward supporting me every step of the way. The way his strong arms are wrapped around me, holding me close, makes me feel safe and secure, and it's not long before I fall fast asleep.
::: Rw/aV :::
Tuesday comes and goes with no news from the clinic. While a very large part of me is itching to call them, I also don't want to be a bother. They'd said it could take up to two days, so I decide that if I don't hear from them by Wednesday, I'll call first thing Thursday morning.
Of course, this means that Edward and I have to wait not only one more day, but three because he has to leave for Chicago after breakfast this morning. Before heading out the door, Edward hands me his car keys and kisses me goodbye, telling me he'll call me tonight from his hotel room. He asks me to call him if I hear from the clinic at any time, and I smile and promise I will. I love how much he seems to care about all of this; it makes me feel as though I'm not in this alone.
While I know I should probably stay home again, I just can't stay in the house alone with my thoughts for one more day. I had decided to stay home Tuesday, still unable to focus on anything other than the test results for more than a few minutes at a time. Unfortunately, Edward had to go into the office to finalize his trip, and I didn't ask him to stay—I couldn't; he'd already sacrificed enough of his time to spend with me during all of this. So, I distracted myself with cleaning and a bit of light studying.
There are times during each and every one of my morning classes that my mind drifts, but I'm able to pull it back and focus for the most part. Lunch with Alice is great, because she's always excellent at keeping my mind off things. We start talking about our plans for the weekend, and it's then that I remember I was going to talk to her about joining us for paintballing. So much has happened in the last couple of days that I completely forgot.
"Paintballing?" Alice asks, scrunching her small, upturned nose.
Spearing a piece of my salad, I smirk. "Did I forget to mention that Edward is entertaining that baseball player whose picture you drooled all over?"
"Say no more!" she exclaims. "Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there!"
I laugh loudly. "You're a poet and you didn't know it," I lightly rib, picking my phone up off the table and checking it for missed calls.
"Expecting an important call?"
With a heavy sigh, I put my phone down and push my food around in its container. "Just hoping the clinic calls today. I hate waiting. It's maddening."
Alice reaches across the table and places her hand on mine. "Oh, sweetie. I can't imagine how hard this has to be for you, but I really do think that everything is going to be fine."
"I know, I just . . . need to hear it, you know?"
Squeezing my hand, Alice nods. "I do."
Alice's positive energy is enough to help me relax a little, and before long, we're tossing out our lunch garbage and heading for our afternoon classes. Thankfully, they don't drag on like I fully expect them to, and I'm about halfway through my last class of the afternoon when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
I'm tempted to answer it but don't really fancy Professor Berty chastising me in front of the entire class, so I let it go. I've only got another thirty minutes, and then I can see who it was. I'm sure I can wait that long.
There's a break in the vibration against my leg before it buzzes two quick times, telling me I have a new voicemail. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I refocus as much as possible on the paper I'm writing and wait until class is over. It's difficult, but I'm able to do it, only barely making it out of the classroom before checking my phone.
When I see the name of the clinic in my missed calls list, I'm not entirely sure how I feel. My stomach twists and rolls, my palms are sweating, and my chest feels tight as I check my voicemail. None of that subsides upon hearing the message, though, because they don't tell me anything more than to call them at my earliest convenience. Up until this point, I've been thinking pretty positively, but as I dial the number, my hands are trembling, and I start to think the worst.
"Life Choices Women's Clinic," the female receptionist answers on the third ring.
Bringing my free hand up, I tuck my hair behind my ear, rest my hand on the back of my neck, and swallow thickly, my stomach churning like a tidal wave. "Uh, yes, this is I-Isabella Swan. I just got a call from someone there . . .?"
"Ah, yes, Miss Swan. I'll pass you over to Nurse Cope."
"Thanks," I whisper into the phone, closing my eyes and exhaling slowly.
I'm not kept on hold long before the nurse picks up. "Hello, Miss Swan. Thanks so much for calling us back. I was just calling to let you know that your test results are in."
I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out at first, so I clear my throat and try again. "And?"
"Everything came back perfect. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."
Relieved, I find myself smiling widely. "Thank you so much for getting back to me so soon."
"You're welcome, Miss Swan."
I hang up the phone and slip it back into my pocket, taking a minute to absorb the news that everything came back fine. While I suspected as much, there was a small part of me that wasn't so sure. I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off of me, and I can't wait to tell Edward . . .
Glancing up at the clock in the hall, I see that it's five after three, and Edward is only two hours ahead in Chicago. I decide to call him as I walk out to the car to tell him the good news.
He doesn't answer, which I understand because he's probably busy working, so I leave him a message, letting him know that I've talked to the clinic and that everything is fine. Before hanging up, I tell him I'm headed to work, and that I'll try to call him on my break if it's not too busy.
Naturally, that's just not in the cards. I don't get more than five minutes to myself at one given time, so calling him while I'm at the café never happens. I don't even get the chance to check my phone to see if he's called me back.
After the last customer leaves for the night, I lock the doors, cash out, and head for home. It's strange, returning home from work to find the house so dark and empty, and while it may not be the first night I've spent alone here, I'm still not used to it.
I decide to change into my pajamas before I call Edward. After I pull on my grey sleep shorts and a white tank top, I grab my phone and am just about to dial his number when it vibrates in my hand.
"Hey," I answer. "I was just about to call you."
"Hi. Sorry I didn't call you back earlier. I got sucked into dinner and drinks with Crowley and his manager," Edward explains. "So, your message said everything turned out to be okay?"
"Yup, and I can't tell you how relieved I am. I'm just sorry I didn't get the results back before you had to leave."
"Oh yeah?" he inquires.
I nod. "Mmmhmm."
"God, I miss you," he sighs into the phone.
"It's only been a little over twelve hours since we've seen each other," I remind him, even though the feeling is more than mutual.
Looking across the hall, I see his door is half-open and head toward it, pushing it open and stepping through. Everything about the room screams Edward, and I feel a little closer to him just being in here.
"What are you doing?" I ask, running my finger along the edge of his dark mahogany dresser.
There's a brief pause, and if I listen closely, I think I can hear the rustle of fabric from Edward's end. "Just lying in bed," he tells me. "You?"
I look around his room and smile when I spot his big four-poster bed. It's silly, but I look around as though someone might be watching me before I tiptoe over the hardwood floor and hop onto his bed, lying back on top of the fluffy duvet. "Oh, I just changed."
"Nice. What are you wearing?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave or two.
Craning my neck, I look down and tug at the hem of my shorts. "Um, shorts and a tank top."
"Describe them to me," he instructs, something about his voice making my body hum and tingle. "Colour, how they fit . . . absolutely everything."
"What?" I ask with a light laugh. Shaking my head, I do as he requests. "Okay, well, I'm wearing my grey sleep shorts and a white tank top. They're, um . . . tight, I guess?"
Edward chuckles into my ear, and I sigh wistfully at how much I miss hearing it up close and personal. "Is this another first for you, beautiful?"
I'm confused. "What do you mean?" It doesn't take long before I realize what he's getting at. "Oh! I . . . well . . . No, I've never, and I don't know that I can . . ."
"Would you at least try? The thought of you pleasuring yourself makes me so hard." His voice is low and gravelly, and his candid confession makes me blush and clench my thighs together to quell the dull ache of desire that's begun to form.
"Edward," I sigh into the phone.
"Where are you right now?" he asks.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I look around his room. "Um, in bed."
"Prove it," he rasps.
"I . . . um . . ." I look around the room that's clearly not mine and wonder how exactly he wants me to prove it. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."
"Send me a picture. I want to see you . . . in bed."
"Right," I say, almost palming my face for not understanding him originally. "Of course. Just, um, give me a sec." I sit up and am just scooting to the end of his bed when he stops me.
"Wait. Didn't you say you were in bed already?" Clearly, I scooted too loud, and he heard me trying to escape.
"Uh huh," I concur nervously.
I laugh once. "Busted. I might be in yours. Give me a sec and I'll go get into mine."
"No," he tells me quickly. "Stay. And send a picture. It was one thing when I imagined you in your bed . . . but to think of you laying in mine?"
I move back up the bed until I'm leaning against his fluffy pillows and run my fingers through my hair a few times before I take the picture and send it. "Okay, you're turn," I tell him, starting to get into this.
My phone alerts me to a message. I see that Edward has sent me two pictures, the first being of him sitting up in bed, his upper body naked while his lower half remains covered by the bed linens, and the second is . . .
"Oh my!" I exclaim, heat filling my cheeks quickly. Even though my phone's three-and-a-half inch screen doesn't do it justice, I'm unable to tear my eyes away from the image. While it's true I'd much rather see it in person, the picture that Edward has just sent me of his hand wrapped around his erection does what I'm sure he intended it to do; I'm so beyond turned on that I find myself squirming.
Reluctantly, I bring my phone back to my ear. "That was . . . unexpected. But aren't you worried about someone hacking into our phones and seeing that?"
Edward laughs. "You plan on keeping it?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, you'll probably be travelling more in the future, so I'll need something to remember you by," I joke.
"And my cock is how you'll remember me? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or somewhat offended," he quips playfully.
"Oh," I respond. "Definitely flattered. It's not everyone's"—I take a breath—"cock I find myself wanting to stare at all day long."
"Jesus, Bella," he groans into the phone. "I wish I was there with you."
"Me too," I whisper softly. "Right here next to me in your very large and comfortable bed."
"Wait, maybe I can be," he says suddenly, jarring me from the haze his seductive voice is constantly pulling over me. "You ever use FaceTime on your phone?"
"Um, no. Not on purpose, anyway." Truthfully, I never really understood why one would want to video message. I mean, the great thing about a normal phone call is that you can be crawling right out of bed in the morning, hair everywhere, and they don't know any better. But with video chatting, you have to prep as though you're going to be seeing this person—because you will be.
"I don't know . . ." I tell him, somewhat skeptical about this idea.
"Come on, it'll be like we're together." His argument is compelling, and I find myself wavering. "If it helps, this would be a first time for me as well."
Truthfully, he had me at "maybe I can be," but I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Okay," I reply, feeling oddly excited about this. "Let's do it."
I laugh. "You better do it before I change my mind."
"Okay!" Behind the excitement in his voice, I hear the ruffling of his bedding as I assume he's sitting up quickly. "I'll see you in a second."
We disconnect our phone call, and not two seconds later my phone is ringing with an incoming FaceTime chat. It's silly to feel as nervous as I do, but I take a deep breath and answer the call. The minute Edward's face appears on my screen, I exhale and smile, only to be met with his perfect grin.
"Hey," I say.
"Hello, beautiful. See, isn't this better than just talking on the phone?" he asks.
"Actually, it's pretty cool. How's the hotel?" I ask, studying his face.
Edward tilts his head to one side in a half shrug. "It's okay. Lonely, but okay. I'm just glad I'll only be here for a couple of days." His melancholy expression soon changes until he's smirking devilishly. "How's my bed?"
The gleam in his eye excites me, and I smile, sinking down lower onto the bed until my head is lying on the pillows. "Mmmm . . . Cozy."
"I have to admit, the sight of you lying in my bed excites me," he confesses.
He nods. "Oh yeah. Makes me wish even more that I was there next to you."
Feeling a little more confident in my sexuality, I find the courage to take this conversation to the next level. "And if you were . . . what then?"
His smile widens, clearly loving that I've shown a little initiative in our latest escapade together. "Well, I'd probably start by letting my hands explore your beautiful body. Slowly."
Needing to feel the sensation of his words, I bring my hand to my neck, slowly trailing it down until I'm cupping one of my breasts and teasing the nipple through my top. I moan as I release the pressure and move across to the other.
My eyes fall closed as I continue to pinch and tease my nipples. "That's good," I whisper, pretending that it's Edward's hand on my body right now. "I like that."
"Me, too, baby," he agrees hoarsely. I open my eyes and look back at my phone to see that he's very focused on what I'm doing. "And me? What would you do if I was right there next to you?"
I stare at his image on my phone, wide-eyed and suddenly a little nervous. "Um . . . I'd . . ." I know what I would do if he were here with me right now, but to put it into words? My face is slowly heating up just thinking about it.
"Tell me," he instructs, his voice low and velvety.
Remembering how he reacted when I said cock earlier, I find the courage to tell him exactly what I'd do. Honestly, it's almost like an out of body experience, because the old Bella would never in a million years say what starts pouring out of my mouth.
"First, I'd wrap my hand around your hard cock . . ." He groans, and I can hear the blanket rustling as I assume he touches himself. "Then I'd begin to stroke you slowly, first going down and then gliding back up." I have to take a minute to breathe, because even just telling him aloud what I'd do to him is getting me hot and bothered. When I've regrouped a little, I continue. "I'd repeat this over and over and over again until you're breathing hard and your knees begin to quake."
"Holy fuck," he breathes out, the phone slipping from his hand. Pride swells throughout my entire body at being able to elicit such a strong reaction from him.
I'm not sure where my next words come from, but I go with them, because . . . HO-LEE hell . . .
"I want to watch."
Edward smirks lazily, his green eyes hooded with lust. "Yeah?" My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I nod. "Me too," he says. "My alarm clock has a dock for your phone. Set it up and then move across the bed so I can see more of you."
My hands begin to tremble with excitement, and I do as he says, because, quite frankly, I like when he's just a little bit bossy . . . just a little bit, though. "Okay," I tell him once I've got my phone secure on the dock and slide across the bed. "Can you still hear me?"
"Perfectly." I watch as Edward perches his phone against something. "Now, where were we?"
"I believe my hand was wrapped around your cock," I remind him, the word coming easier and easier each time I say it.
I watch as Edward slips both of his hands beneath the tented white sheet, but he stops and looks at me. "I feel like you're a tad overdressed, gorgeous."
I shift my body toward him and kneel on the bed, eyeing him coyly. "Oh?"
"Definitely. I'm going to need you to strip if you want me to remove the sheet."
"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Cullen," I say, pushing myself to the side of the bed and standing up.
"Mmm . . . Mr. Cullen? Are you implying that you'd like to try a little role-playing, Miss Swan?"
Crossing my arms in front of me, I grip the hem of my top and begin to raise it. "Perhaps . . . but not tonight. One new experience at a time, here, pal." I toss my shirt to the side and stand still for a moment, letting Edward absorb the sight before him.
"Fuck," he mutters, and I can see his hands move beneath the sheet slightly. This makes the tingle between my legs intensify, and I yearn for his touch to help bring me to release. "I miss your tits so fucking much."
Hooking my thumbs into my shorts, I shake my head at him. "You have a very dirty mouth when you're horny, don't ya?" I tease jovially.
"If it offends you, I could try to stop—I make no promises, though. Very little blood and oxygen are flowing to my brain right now."
I laugh, pushing my shorts down over my hips slowly. "No, I like it. It . . . turns me on."
"How so?" he asks, his hands moving beneath the sheet again. "Tell me."
Thinking back to last Tuesday on the couch, I know exactly what it is he wants to hear. "It makes me . . . wet."
"God damn," he curses, his head falling back onto the pillows as he strokes himself beneath the sheet again.
I lick my lips, watching as the sheet moves every time he goes up his length and then back down. Watching a man masturbate isn't something I can say I ever wanted to do, but to know he is imagining my hand wrapped around his erection leaves me short of breath.
I push my shorts down a little further, exposing the bottom of my hip bones. "Okay, you need to move that fucking sheet," I tell him, surprising myself with my language.
Edward growls, grips the corner of the sheet closest to him, and yanks it from his body as I let my shorts fall to the floor. Edward eyes me appreciatively, and I blush, fighting the urge to hop onto the bed and hide under the blankets; this is all still so new to me that my old instincts still tend to pop up.
"So fucking gorgeous," he growls quietly, making my legs quiver. "Okay, I need you on the bed, please."
Inhaling a shaky breath, I crawl back onto his bed—completely naked—and position myself far enough away that he can see me, and I can still see him. His hand is still moving over his erection: up, down, up, over the head, and then back down. I fight back a whimper as I watch, pressing my legs together in hopes that it might help the deep, sensual throbbing that's fast becoming my primary focus.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Edward asks, a knowing smirk on his face.
"I want you here," I confess in a quiet voice. "I miss you . . . miss the way you touch me . . ."
"I am there," he tells me, his tone suggestive and a little hypnotic. "I am touching you. I've got your perfect tits in my hands right now while you continue to rub my cock." He moans loudly at the same time I do. "God, baby, I love the way your hand feels around my dick."
Hearing him talk like this makes me whimper, and I bring my hands back to my breasts, grasping and squeezing them in my palms as I try to replicate the way Edward's hands felt on them last week. "You're so sexy, Bella," he tells me, spurring me on.
"I . . . I want you to touch me, Edward," I plead, getting swept up in the fantasy that he really is here with me—touching me, making me feel so, so good. "Please?"
"Of course, beautiful," he agrees. "Close your eyes and feel my hands move down your body, sweetheart. Down over your ribs, over the soft skin of your abdomen, until they finally reach the warmth between your legs."
I follow everything he says, my fingers stopping the instant they settle between my thighs, and my eyes open to see him watching me raptly, still stroking his erection slowly and prolonging his own pleasure.
"What's wrong?" he asks, confused by my sudden stage fright.
"It's just . . . I've never . . ."
I don't even have to finish talking before he groans pleasurably. "Oh, Bella. You really do spoil me—letting me share in all of these firsts with you . . ." My half-confession could have very well ruined this moment, but Edward has this way of making my sexual inexperience sound like it's the most erotic thing on the planet to him.
"I slip my fingers between the soft lips of your pussy."
My breath shudders, and my fingers twitch to do what he says. "Edward . . . I don't—" I sigh.
"I slip my fingers between the soft lips of your pussy," he repeats a little firmer, and this time I comply. "That's my girl."
My hand moves tentatively between my legs as I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing. It doesn't take long to figure out, though, and I soon find a rhythm, moving my fingers back and forth through my slick arousal and shifting my hips up into my—I mean, Edward's touch.
"Oh god, Edward," I moan brazenly, my fingers moving over the little nub at the top of my sex. "This feels amazing." My toes curl each time I move over that swollen little bundle of nerves, so I decide to focus on it for a minute, really liking the electrifying sensation that moves beneath my skin.
I can feel the familiar coils in my belly beginning to tighten. My fingers move faster, press harder, until I roll onto my side and begin to cry out when I feel my orgasm teetering on the edge of what feels like an endless chasm. "Oh . . . GOD!" I cry out.
"Bella," Edward moans across from me, forcing me to open my eyes again and drawing my gaze to him. His hand is moving over his cock faster and harder, and I increase the speed of my fingers to meet his every stroke, feeling another orgasm quickly swelling within me. "Look at me, Bella," he gently instructs, his eyebrows pulling together, and his lips parting slightly. I know this look—seen it once before.
"Edward . . ." My voice is hardly recognizable, both higher in pitch and a little bit hoarse as I near my climax. Every muscle in my body tenses, my finger moving in tiny, precise circles, and Edward's name echoes off of every wall in his bedroom as I come completely undone.
Across from me, I watch through hooded lids as Edward growls, his hips jerking into his hand, and I revel in the look of pure satisfaction and bliss on his face as he comes.
We're both breathing pretty heavily and staring lazily at one another through our cell phones because we have absolutely no energy for anything else—or at least, I don't; Edward could be ready for round two for all I know . . . okay, so I'm sure I could be convinced, too.
With a sigh, I roll onto my stomach and pull myself toward my phone, picking it up off the dock so I can get a better view of Edward. I only get a brief glance at his post-orgasmic body before he tugs the sheet back up over him and grabs his phone also.
"Well that was incredible," he says.
I nod slowly, my body's central nervous system still trying to re-route all of its circuits. "I'd say that's a bit of an understatement. It was un-fucking-believable."
Edward throws his head back against his pillow and chuckles. "I'm beginning to think I've been a bad influence on you."
"Nah." I shrug. "Like you said earlier: I've got very little blood and oxygen flowing to my brain right now. I don't think I can be held accountable for any foul language that might escape for at least the next eight to ten hours."
"Fair enough," Edward concurs before exhaling heavily. "Friday cannot come soon enough. I can't wait until I can hold you in my arms again."
"I know. It's torture being so far away from you," I agree wholeheartedly. "Though, I suppose we've just proven we can make it work."
I can't stifle the yawn that builds quickly, and I cover my mouth. "I'm sorry," I quickly apologize.
Edward shakes his head and smiles. "Don't be. It's late. I'm tired too."
I push myself up until I'm sitting on the bed. "I should gather my clothes and head to bed. I've got another early day tomorrow."
Quick to reply, Edward says, "No. Stay in my bed. I quite like the idea of you sleeping there after watching you."
Warmth blooms beneath the surface of my skin, but I fight the urge to drop my eyes from his. "No need to be embarrassed," he tells me. "You were really quite spectacular. Definitely something I'd like to see again . . . in person."
I grin impishly. "Play your cards right . . ."
Edward laughs, perhaps a little too boisterously for a hotel room. "Well, I should let you get some sleep before we find ourselves in a repeat performance. While I have no major qualms with that idea, I don't want us to be exhausted come morning because we couldn't control ourselves."
"Yeah. I think that would be best," I quickly agree, yawning into my hand again.
"Sweet dreams, Bella."
It feels as though my heart actually skips a beat, and I smile. "They will be now."
A/N2: Well, that was fun ;-) What did you all think? We're getting closer to their first time. I promise!
Special shout-out to CullensTwiMistress, whose chapter 15 review made me LOL so much that I HAD to include it in this chapter ;-) (something about sleeping with dogs and getting fleas, for those who don't want to review stalk to find it. I figured it was something our Alice would say :-P)
This week's Recs:
Serenity's Prayer by lady libre
SUMMARY: When Edward takes Bella into the forest after her disastrous birthday party in New Moon, Bella's reaction is nothing like he expected. Will this be the end of their love or will they find a new path to forever?
My Mate by rachaelprincess
SUMMARY: She was lost in him, the taste of his blood and the feel of his skin against her mouth. She acknowledged that from this moment on there would be no turning back.
After 300 years, Edward finds his mate in young vampire Bella. But the mating blood rituals of vampires will test their strength and belief in each other. Graphic lemons and violence.
Be sure to leave them some lovely reviews! They work hard for them!
Until next time!