Originally posted under HappyBirthgrey for the fabulous queenofgrey's bday, but I decided to post on my own profile so I'd see it staring me in the face and finally have the mindset/determination to finish! Enjoy. :)

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I stared at my drunk, idiot boyfriend in disbelief, my lips curling in confusion. "I'm sorry, what was that, now? You're abstaining from sex? For a month?"

Edward rolled his eyes, waving his hand like this was no big deal. I whirled around to Emmett and gave him a piercing glare. "Where the fuck did you take him? Bible study?"

Emmett guffawed, walking over and wrapping his enormous bear-like arms around me in what he probably thought was a comforting embrace. Squishing my face against his shirt, he said, "Just the bar. I was betting him that we couldn't go two days without plowing—"

I pushed myself away from him, scoffing.

"Sorry—getting intimate with our girlfriends," he said, settling himself onto the couch. "Anyway, it started getting ridiculous. Two days turned into a week, and then after a few shots of Jager, it became two weeks. Then your boy bet me a five-hundred dollars I couldn't go three weeks, and I backed out. There's no way I could stay away from Rosie that long; that, and she'd fucking kick my ass."

"Oh, you hear that?" I said to Edward, who was supporting his weight against the wall. "Do you honestly think I won't kick your ass? I like my sex life."

"See, man, I told you she'd be pissed," Emmett said with a grin. "Anyway, it's apparent that Edward gets cocky when he's drunk. Somehow, he believes he can go without it for a month. And don't worry, it's not like he's going to last. Plus he's completely wasted—he'll probably push you up against the wall as soon as I leave."

"I'm still lucid, asshole," said Edward, though his stumble into my desk chair didn't exactly help to put him in a clear-headed light. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I know what I agreed to."

"You haven't heard the best part," said Emmett in a strained voice, seeming more amused by the second.

"How the hell is there more to this?" I asked, wondering if I honestly wanted the answer.

Emmett laughed again, practically wheezing the words out. "He can't—he—" He stopped to snort, then continued, "If such a problem arises, he can't take care of that, either!"

I was stumped for a few moments before I realized what he meant. Instead of throwing up my arms in frustration and muttering the idiocy of the whole idea, I rounded the corner, into the kitchen, so I could see Edward. "You can't masturbate?"

As the words spilled from my mouth, I instantly burst into laughter and suddenly, I was the one holding onto the wall for aid. Emmett came up to my side and joined in, and Edward merely shrugged, raising a glass of water to his lips.

"You'll never make it," I choked out in between giggles, then turned to Emmett. "How are you going to know if he keeps his word? Put up hidden cameras?"

Emmett wiped tears from his eyes and sighed, still chuckling under his breath. "Well, given that he and I work together, I can keep an eye on him there and make sure he doesn't put in any overtime," he said with another snort. "And also, this is where you come in, Bellabean. You are my eyes and ears through this, okay? The minute you catch him in the act, or whenever he comes begging to you for a release, I'd like a phone call, please."

Emmett and I teased Edward for a little while longer before I walked Emmett to the door. He gave me another bear hug and said quietly, "Do me a favor. Tempt him a little?"

"I'll see what I can do," I replied, waving as he disappeared down the apartment's stairwell. When I went back to the kitchen, Edward was slumped at the table with his head buried in the crook of his arm. His buzz had definitely transformed into drowsy sluggishness. "So, how much is this little challenge worth?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he mumbled, not lifting his head. "Like how much is our relationship worth to me? Because you know I respect you—"

"Easy, Dr. Philosophy," I said, filling a highball with ice and opening up the liquor cabinet to pour myself a bit of bourbon. I never drank straight liquor, but if I wasn't going to have sex for a month, then I was going to start. "I meant how much money is at stake?"

"A thousand."

"One thousand dollars?" I repeated. "Jesus, Edward. Really?"

He shrugged, frowning a little. "Emmett brings out the competitive side of me."

"Okay, well," I sighed, sitting next to him and sipping my drink, "whether you have an extra thousand dollars in your wallet or not, you are going to make this up to me. I'm talking dinner, dessert, some kind of luxurious hotel suite, champagne, strawberries—all of that. And you will give me the most mind-blowing sex I've ever had."

"Okay." His voice was muffled by his arm.

I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "Are you sure this isn't some kind of weird way to distance yourself? I mean, everything's okay with us, right?"

He must have picked up his head much too quickly for the state he was in, because his face turned an uneasy, ashen shade. "God, no. I mean, yes, things are fine with us. I swear, Bella. I just wasn't thinking… fuck," he breathed, cradling his head. "I think I drank my body weight."

"Would it be bitchy of me to say 'serves you right?'" I asked, taking another sip from my glass.

He sighed. "I suppose not. I don't know, we were just bullshitting and Emmett was talking about Rosalie and his favorite positions and shit…" He looked at my raised eyebrows and cleared his throat. "Well, you know me, I don't really go into detail like he does. I guess I just wanted to shut him up, you know? Let him know that my relationship with you isn't just physical. I mean, I know he loves Rose, and it was just the alcohol talking—"

"Edward," I said with a laugh, running my fingers through his hair. Hearing him say such a thing was thoughtful, and I loved him for it. Though, I wasn't thrilled about our horizontal humping hiatus. "I believe you. It's just… two weeks, I can handle. But a month?"

He blew his breath through his lips, looking just as disappointed as I felt, finally. This was going to be a difficult thirty days. Oddly, I began to feel a bit sorry for him, and then, suddenly, a smirk crossed his face.

"Well… you could always call Jacob Black," he said teasingly. "He'd be willing to satisfy you in my absence."

Oh, for fuck's sake. I swallowed a large mouthful of bourbon, creating a spicy warmth flooding down my throat and expanding through my chest. "You know, I was just about to tell you that I wouldn't tattle to Emmett if you cheated once in a while," I said, lithely standing from the chair. "Emmett said you couldn't have sex or give yourself any man-handling. He never said my hands couldn't take on the job."

Edward's mouth parted, his brow creasing with thought. He raised his eyebrows. "That's true."

"Oh, but now, I think I will watch you like a hawk, since you had to bring Jacob Black into it," I said, emptying the remainder of my glass into the sink.

"Bella, I was just kidding," he said, reaching out for my hand.

I took it, leaning over to place a kiss on his forehead. "Nope. No pity for the boyfriend who brings up the Ghost of Crazy, Convict, Fuck-All Christmas past."

Before I started dating Edward, I dated Jacob, who would forever be remembered for stealing a motorcycle on Christmas Eve, crashing it into my mailbox, and attempting to sing (or scream) 'Randolph the Brown-Nosed Reindeer' at my window. We later found out he'd been blitzed out of his mind.

Edward pulled me into his lap, leaning back against the chair so he wouldn't drunkenly topple off the side. "Forgive me?" he asked, his eyes an emerald glaze.

"That depends," I said, shifting my legs to straddle his lap. I figured he was too liquored up to get turned on by a simple action. "You're still allowed to kiss me, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he said, pulling my face to his and giving me a languorous kiss. Then, suddenly, he pulled away, groaning. "Bella, are you drinking whisky?"

I scoffed a laugh at his obliviousness. "I know, one night of this and I'm already reaching for the bottle," I joked.

His already pale face turned the slightest shade of pear green, and he gently pushed me back. "I'm gonna be sick," he whined, lifting me off his lap and rushing for the bathroom. Unpleasant noise followed from down the hall, in addition to a weak, muffled, "I'm never drinking again."

Honestly, if I could help it, I would certainly make sure that he never drank Jagermeister again. Ever.

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I had my money on Emmett. In the first week, Edward slipped into celibacy almost comfortably—annoyingly so—considering I had to live out Girl Parts, Interrupted while he was abstinent. I played along, being Emmett's watchful eye whenever Edward was home. I was a very light sleeper, waking up at the slightest movement or sound, so Edward had no chance of lovin' it up with himself in bed, anyway. I made him play the piano whenever I showered, and I knew his playing well enough to know when he wasn't using both hands. However, I was certain that it was only a matter of time before he would complain, get agitated or crumple from a case of blue balls, and come crawling to me for a good 'fuck this bet' fuck.

No such luck for me.

At first, it was nice to spend so much time with him outside of the house: we went grocery shopping together, walked around the park after work, ate out a lot more often, and basically found things to do to occupy all idle time. He even accompanied me to the library some nights, engrossing himself in a mystery novel while I pored over English literature. We tried to come home late on purpose; the more exhausted we were, the faster we would fall asleep without the desire to spoon our way into a dry hump.

Emmett called me often, checking to see if Edward was being a "good boy," and I, unfortunately, always mumbled a positive review in his favor. Though, I noticed his unbothered act would falter slightly whenever I changed my clothes or walked past him in a towel. I would catch him staring with hungry eyes, and sometimes I was too weak to stop myself from hugging him from behind, wrapping my leg around his and rubbing my hands way too close to the domain of shame. He'd pry my hands away, kiss me on the forehead, and pull me into a watching a movie or playing a board game, where his touches remained minimal; mostly, I received nudges. Nudges.

We'd become sleepover friends. I was still waiting for him to ask if he could do my hair or give me a manicure, or something else that I used to do often with girlfriends when I was thirteen.

By the third week, I was grumpy and had gotten more intimate with the shower head than ever. I'd always kept my carnal moans to myself, thinking that I didn't want to stir him up if I could help it, but as we slipped into bed for the night, I received a quick peck on the cheek before he rolled over with a soft sigh. A tired sigh. He was going straight to sleep… again.

That was it.

I sat up, rolled over to my nightstand, and dug through my drawer for something that I hadn't used since Edward's business trip to Dubai. He'd been gone for a week, and I'd been pleased to have something to keep me company: my purple Rabbit Habit. I heard Edward rustle the sheets, probably staring over his shoulder to see what I was doing. Good.

"What are you doing?" came his curious voice, just as I expected.

I slid my vibrator out from it's satin bag, feeling a smile creep over my face. "Just getting ready for bed." And for an orgasm that we both will never forget.

I'd never masturbated in front of him; it was something we joked about over a bottle of Pinot at our favorite restaurant, but in the end, I had been too shy to follow through. However, tonight was going to be different.

I flicked the switch to the on setting and a low buzzing sound filled the air. Edward's face was pricelessly set in shock, and without bothering to waste time explaining myself, I fluidly pulled off my underwear and went to work. I ran my hand under my shirt, rubbing all my favorite places and rubbed my legs together, moaning softly as the waves of vibration pulsed against my clit. I stole a look at Edward, who was staring straight ahead, his mouth hanging open, fingers digging little crevices into our bedspread.

"You can join in anytime, you know," I said breathily, purposely over-exaggerating my voice. "There aren't any rules against you pleasuring me. Unless you don't think you can—" I paused to moan as warm heat quaked through my lower body and I bucked my hips against the pressure. "Unless you can't control yourself."

He stayed put, and I continued writhing in pleasuring lust, licking my lips, thrusting my middle into the air, only pausing to grab Edward's arm as he finally moved to get out of bed. "If you leave, I'm calling Emmett," I said between pants. "I need to see you. Make sure you're still pure."

On the last word, I burst into giggles and he ripped his arm away from mine. He darted to the window, yanked it open, and I heard him take a deep gulp of air. The warm breeze blew through the room, tickling my stomach, and I pressed a pillow against my mouth to stifle a provocative groan.

"Bella, the neighbors," Edward hissed from the corner.

"I don't care," I said in a harsh whisper, because that was the only sound I could make at the moment. At last, I slid the vibrating shaft inside me, arching my back off the bed as I gasped, digging my heels into the mattress. I was dizzy, and as I turned to look at Edward, I saw what I'd been waiting to see: highlighted in moonlight, something was pushing against the confines of his boxer briefs—something very curious, very hard. Very him.

"Come here, please," I begged, stretching out my free hand. "I'm so close, baby. I want you to finish, please?"

Edward took another deep breath, and I could see that he was deliberating fiercely, stealing glances from the window, to me, to his shorts, and back. "Damn it," he whispered over the buzzing, but didn't make a move.

For a moment, I was pissed. He was watching me wriggling around, half-naked, touching myself for God's sake, and he wouldn't come to me even when I was in the middle of performing most guys' fucking fantasy; I half-wished he would just grab himself and beat off like a goddamned teenager instead of just standing there. Eventually, the pulsating grew to be too much, and I pumped and pressed my toy in and out, making sure the little bunny on the outside nuzzled my swollen center as I rocked my hips, continuing to gasp, riding myself into a frenzied climax.

I moaned, grasping the sheet with one hand as my other shook madly, clasped around the Rabbit. I threw my head back, panting carelessly, and shot a look at Edward. His back was to me; he was hunched, gripping the windowsill, breathing almost as raggedly as I was. I smiled through my throes of arousal and called out one more thing. "Oh, God, Edward!"

The window slammed, and the sound of his maddening breath and my own cry of his name sent me over the edge. I came quickly, thrusting in rhythm with the waves of my orgasm, and finally collapsed back on the pillows. My chest heaved as I calmed, and the tingling chills quelled to a peaceful warmth throughout my body. I sighed, loving the hot, pulsing reverberations in my groin.

That-was-fuck-ing-fab-u-lous, they throbbed.

I lazily rolled my head in Edward's direction again and raised my eyebrows. "You missed out," I breathed, smirking.

He fisted a hand in his hair, tightly pulling at the strands, and his other hand rested against his stomach, twitching—as if he was dying to reach down and take care of other pressing matters. Instead of doing so, he practically growled and hastily made his way into the bathroom, slamming the door.

"Does that mean Emmett wins?" I called out. I heard him groan again before the bathroom door flung open and smacked against the outside wall. "No," he grunted from inside, and the whirring sound of the shower brought the walls to life.

I pulled a bottle of toy cleaner out of my drawer and slid out of bed, convincing my rubbery legs to carry me into the bathroom. Edward opened the glass door to the shower and stepped inside, and I granted myself a peek. He was magnificent, as always, with his godlike structure and chiseled features... not to mention his tight, little ass and incredibly rock-hard erection.

I licked my lips, wondering what he would do if I suddenly got inside the shower and dropped to my knees, grabbing his hips and sliding my tongue up the base of his—

The bottle of antibacterial cleaner slipped out of my hand and clattered into the sink. I blew out my breath, chuckling. "Don't worry," I said lightly, spraying my Rabbit clean. "Only ten more days. I'm sure you'll be fine."

I smiled again as I watched his hands curl into fists. When I had set my "pet" to the side to dry, I stripped off my shirt and opened the shower door. I stepped inside without a word, and though he didn't turn around, his muscles stiffened.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I slid my hands up his back.

"Jesus, Edward, the water's freezing," I whined, feeling gooseflesh ripple down my naked body.

He groaned again, frustrated, though he still didn't face me. "Well, what else am I going to do? Wish it away?"

It. Edward Jr. was still standing at attention, I presumed. "I could take care of it," I said, surprising myself at the bold tone that came out of me.

"I told myself I could do this," he hissed through his teeth. "Why are you making it so difficult?"

"Why are you so committed?" I asked, locking my arms around his middle, not allowing him to shake me off. "It's just a stupid bet, Edward. I miss you. I mean, I love the time we've been spending with each other, but you barely touch me. I feel empty without you."

I felt him relax subtly, and was shocked when he laughed softly. "Was that pun intended?"

I snorted. "No. Well…" I hesitated, laughing with him, then sighed. "No. I know it's not everything, but I feel like your buddy. I just want you back, all of you."

He sighed, finally allowing himself to turn around, though I kept my eyes firmly on his. "I'm sorry," he said, wrapping his hands around my back, pulling me under the torrent of chilled water. "Ten days. Christ."

I shivered, carefully laying my cheek against his chest. "You can quit. It's only… a thousand dollars." Ugh. Fucking boys. Fucking bets. Fucking Jagermeister.

"We can make it," he said, speaking into my hair. "I'm rather looking forward to this sexual extravaganza I'm supposed to plan when this is all over."

And that's the way he wanted to play it. I let him cling to me for a few moments before I turned the water's dial to a balmy temperature and lathered myself with soap, washing off the traces of sweat and self-gratification. He stood back and watched, his face a pitiful mask of willpower and patience. It was so easy to rile him up.

After I wrapped myself in a towel and changed back into suitable pajamas, Edward stood under a drowning shower of cold water for ten more minutes before I could coax him back to bed.

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Happy birthday, Jes! You deserve all kinds of good things, and here's hoping that you're at least mildly entertained by the weird shit that comes out of my head.