THE NIGHTINGALE JOURNALS
A/N: This outtake was auctioned off at FGB, and won by Marijee. She told me to write "Whatever you think your readers would like. I want you to write what you would enjoy." Also, JusticeAussie was unable to bid due to technical difficulties. So, this is just for those two lovely ladies, as well as for you, the readers.
Things I own: A limited edition Breaking Dawn, Part 1 DVD, complete with fake flower from the wedding scene. Yes, I am a sap who stayed up until midnight to buy it.
Things I don't own: Anything Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Thanks to my beta, Lupin4Tonks. She has a loyal heart and a good soul, in addition to being the Queen of Grammar Rules. Happy belated birthday, sweets.
WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND
A TNJ OUTTAKE
The doorbell rings, and I open it to find a gangly boy standing there. He's wearing an ill-fitting tux and has a corsage box in his hand. I open my mouth to say something, but I'm interrupted by my Bella.
"Edward, look!" Her voice is laced with excitement.
I watch as my daughter descends the staircase. Libby is so much her mother's child—the same delicate features, same hair coloring, same petite frame. She takes my breath away.
It's strange how two different feelings can occupy my brain simultaneously. I'm in awe of my girl's beauty, so proud of who she is, but at the same time, I have this intense need to hover over her and keep her protected. Not that she really needs protection; she's a double black belt in karate—her Grandpa Charlie made sure that she was enrolled in lessons from the age of five, just like her mother. Still, I'm her father, she is and always will be my baby girl, and I don't want anyone of the male persuasion within ten feet of her. I don't even believe allowances should be made for things like dances, but Bella disagrees with me. I have no idea why she disagrees, since she knows from experience exactly what male minds are capable of. All I can do is sigh, grumble on the sidelines and continue to adore my beautiful girl.
Admiring my daughter, I wonder to myself—when did she grow up? Precisely when? Does she somehow age prematurely? I've been here the entire time, and I'm sure she's only two or three at the very most. I know for a fact she can't possibly be old enough to go to a dance. Looking at her in that beautiful blue dress—yes, the color is as exquisite on my daughter's skin as it is on her mother's—I can't deny that she appears to be grown up, at least physically.
I turn my gaze away from my little girl for a minute, and train it back onto the individual standing in my foyer. Him. The horny, shabbily-attired teenage boy who's standing at the door, waiting for my Libby. He's got another thing coming if he thinks he's leaving this house with her. Abso-fucking-lutely not. I look him straight in the eye, and his eyes dart away from mine. That just proves he's shifty on top of everything else. I tilt my head forward, peering at him over my readers. He knows I mean business.
I feel an elbow nudge me in the side.
"What?" I ask my wife with annoyance.
"Quit with the third degree already, or I'm going to nickname you Charlie."
"I haven't even said a word to him!" My protest of innocence is belied by the snort of derision that immediately follows it. "Charlie truly knows how to give the third degree. I'm merely making my displeasure known."
Bella rolls her eyes at my declaration. "Nice line of BS. You must've had years of practice or something."
The gangly boy decides that he's going to ignore the conversation I'm having with my wife. He steps forward and reaches out feebly in an attempt to shake my hand—someone must have told him that would be a way to win me over.
Not a fucking chance, hornyboy.
I'm not a complete ogre, however, and for the sake of not embarrassing Libby too much, I start to reach my hand toward his. Before I grasp it, however, a thought pops into my head—he probably just beat off moments before he got here. The idea of getting some other guy's spunk on my palm makes me queasy. I stop midway and instead grab some hand sanitizer from my pocket, helpfully handing it over to him. He looks confused, so I decide to help him out a little bit.
"Hand sanitizer. So I know that your hands will be clean before you go anywhere near my daughter."
"Oh, yeah. You're a doctor."
I cross my arms over my chest. I'm not fucking shaking his hand. That's like admitting defeat. Like giving in to the fact that Libby is really 17 years old. I know better. She's just three. If I simply keep repeating that long enough to myself, it will become a fact.
"Daddy!" She admonishes me while whacking my arm. What is it with my girls and whacking me like that? "Be nice!"
"You can never be too careful about stuff like that, Lib." She merely rolls her eyes at me.
Bella is determined to take pictures, which means that I have to play witness to watching my baby girl being touched by that hornyboy creature with messy hands. If I look at him straight on, I swear I can read his mind.
How hard will it be to get that dress off? It looks complicated. But then again, figure that out, then I'll get sex in the back seat. Sex in the closet. Sex against the car.
I don't like it.
No, I don't like it one bit.
Bella nudges me and whispers. "Settle down, sheriff. She's going to be fine. He's a really nice kid, which you would know if you sat down to talk to him the other night."
Bella is referring to the kid's brown nose session with us. He came over to butter us up, all just to establish a pretense to molest my daughter tonight. I conveniently had work to finish up, so I was unavailable.
I keep my arms crossed. That kid isn't fooling anyone. I should know. I wasn't much different when I was his age. Jesus, Bella knows what guys are like, she married me for crying out loud. How can she think that any guy is good enough to touch our baby girl?
"Okay, Sam, why don't you lean in and give Libby a kiss on the cheek so I can snap another picture?"
Is she fucking kidding me?
She's letting him kiss our baby girl, in front of us? Oh, hell no! She knows as well as I do that recent research has proven that men think about sex, food and sleep all day long. Since this is an adolescent male, that equation becomes SEX, food and sleep. I need to nip this shit in the bud, STAT.
"I think it's time for them to get moving along, Bella. You don't want them to be late for their dinner reservations, after all," I explain as I yank my daughter away from her date under the pretense of giving her a big hug. That gesture, in and of itself, should have been a huge red flag to this horny teenage spunkboy.
I start to tug Libby toward the door, only to hear him say, "Oh, I think we have plenty of time for a kiss before we're late for our reservation."
My eyes wide, I turn around and look at this insane boy. Does he have a complete inability to read social cues? Does he have a death wish? Is he suicidal? He's becoming less and less of a candidate for my daughter's heart by the minute. And just to be clear, he was never really a viable candidate. He's on shaky legs with me, to be sure.
My daughter knows me well, and seeing the look in my eyes, convinces Sam that it is in their best interest to avoid the kiss if they want to ever leave this house alive. "It's fine, Sam. Let's just err on the side of caution. Nothing wrong with being early."
She's such a sensible girl. Clearly, we share DNA.
She turns around to give us both a quick hug, and before I know it, she's gone. Out there. With a horny teenage boy, one who thinks about SEX, SEX, SEX, food and sleep, all day long.
I don't like this. I want to sit by the door and wait until Libby is safely back at home. My stomach is upset, and my mouth feels dry.
Bella's hands find their way to my face and they softly cup my cheeks.
"It's part of the process, sweets. She's supposed to grow up and leave us. That's just how it works."
I pout my bottom lip at her to show my unhappiness with said process. She runs her thumb over it, and then pulls me down for a kiss.
I'm instantly reminded that while my daughter might be gone, my wife is very much present—right here, right now. If there is one sure cure for my anxious brain, it's spending some quality time with my Bella. I quirk an eyebrow at her, my inquiry unspoken, and she smiles broadly in return.
She slaps my ass. "You're such a horny bastard. I thought time might slow you down, but apparently not."
"What? Like you aren't thinking the same thing? You're the one whose mantra has always been 'sex every day is the only way.'"
She just shakes her head, as if to convey her innocence. Fortunately, I know better.
"Get your hot little ass over here, baby," I croon to her, and aid her effort by cupping said ass in my hand and pulling her in close. "I haven't had my sex for the day yet."
"Just think, we can make all the sex noises we want and don't have to worry about embarrassing our daughter for once!"
I just smirk at her. That's like a challenge, and as if I'm going to turn that down. She's going to be screaming my name before I'm done with her.
I don't waste any time. I promptly pull off Bella's shirt and get my hands on her tits before she even realizes what I've done. It makes me so proud of my lightning quick reflexes. She still has her nipple piercings, after all these years, and it still makes me hard the minute I see them. I fiddle with them, because I know what happens when I do it just right…
As I get all smug knowing that I can still make her say my name, I turn around to lean her into the wall and give her a nice grind as our lips find where they belong. Where they've always belonged.
She never fails to remind me, in words or actions, what a fucking lucky bastard I am.
"Bring me upstairs, cowboy," she whispers in my ear. I do as she says, because I'm not firing with all my neurons—my cock is too busy responding to Bella's body.
Do I even have a daughter? I have some vague memory of her, but I'm too lost in my head with Bella to care much about that right now.
Somehow, in between kisses, moans, and spanks, I manage to get Bella upstairs and into our bedroom. I throw her onto the bed, and she giggles.
I start to remove her remaining clothing slowly, so I can appreciate unveiling her body. I love it that I'm the only man who gets to see this. It doesn't matter how much time passes, she'll never be less than beautiful to me. Her figure may have softened, but the curves still belong to me, and I love them all.
My hands slowly retrace every line of her body, marveling at the exquisite beauty I find underneath my fingertips. Her nipples come to attention and I get impatient—they're just calling out for my lips. How can I possibly refuse? I circle my tongue over one of them, then pull back to blow on the wet surface. She doesn't say anything, she merely works her fingers into my hair, tugging at it in her excitement.
"Mmm, more," she coaxes me. "More."
I give her other nipple the same loving affection. I wouldn't want it to feel left out.
Bella suddenly jerks her head off of the mattress. "Hey, how come you're still dressed? That is so unfair."
"I'm sorry that you feel that way. I didn't think you would mind the extra attention."
"I mind not being able to get at your good bits. I don't like it when they're all covered up."
I stand up and dutifully remove my clothes for her. Her hands reach straight for my cock. Some things never change.
"What are you looking so smug about?" she asks.
"How you always go straight for the junk, every single time," I smile. "Good to know it still does something for you."
She gives me a nice squeeze and ratchets up the tension by another level. God, do I want her.
"Oh, yes, it still does something for me. I don't think that will ever change."
I move southbound, opening her lips. I give her a soft kiss right over her clit and hear her gasp in response. I'll never get over what a privilege it is to be with her like this. I smile at the thought, and her hands pull my head up.
"Just as I suspected. You're wasting valuable crimples down there."
"Well, I can certainly stop what I'm doing…"
"Don't you even think about it," she warns. "Just save the crimples for later."
As I return to my previous position, I slide my tongue over her, trying to show her what she means to me. She has no idea, really, just how much her beautiful pussy has played a role in the most important moments in my life. She's put up with cramps and bleeding, the discomfort of pregnancy, and the sheer pain and marathon effort of delivering our incredible daughter. Every time I need to be in her, when I need to feel her reassuring warmth surrounding me, she takes me in, willingly, lovingly, and makes me whole.
I feel the familiar tug of her hands in my hair, and I know she's close. I move my tongue over her clit, sucking on it, giving her what she needs. When her hands stop moving, and her hips arch up just so, I know I've gotten her where she needs to be. Within a few moments, her hands are free of tension, and I know it's safe to slide into a new position. I lay on top of her, my body weight resting mainly on my forearms.
"And there are my crimples." She smiles before she kisses me. "I love you, Edward. So much."
I return her kiss briefly. "Baby, love isn't even adequate enough to express how deeply you are woven into my life. I need new words to describe how much you mean to me."
I lift one of her legs and place it on my shoulder, then glide easily inside of my Bella. We know each other's bodies so well at this point, joining together like this is as easy as breathing. I'm not in any particular hurry as I begin to move inside her. Where once it would be all about speed and depth, now it's more about extending the satisfaction. Our orgasms don't build up as quickly as they once did, but that just means more time for us to enjoy the pleasure of being together.
Eventually, I pick up my tempo, and the headboard begins its familiar thunk thunk thunk against the wall. If we were smarter, we would have abandoned the headboard altogether so as not to give ourselves away, but I guess we're just slow learners. While Libby is mortified that Bella and I are so obvious about our nightly couplings, I don't think it's a bad thing. Instead of worrying about the prospect that her parents might someday break up, Libby has always known how undeniable my connection to her mother is. In fact, I think it's the best kind of example, to show her that two people can be so steadfastly in love with each other after all this time. Bella is no less sexually attractive to me now as she was when I first laid eyes upon her as a med student.
I glance down at Bella's face, and her tits that move in time with each of my thrusts. I start to curl my hips up trying to hit her G-spot, and her answering fuck, fuck, fuck Edward, fuck! tells me that I'm right on target. I'm close, and I want here there with me at the end. Soon, the build becomes too much, and I simply have to let go. With a loud groan, I empty inside her. She pulls me down, hugging me closely, while we wait for our heartbeats to slow down. I pull the covers over our bodies and snuggle into my wife's side.
Suddenly, I hear a loud ping. Bella's phone.
She groans about having to move from her comfortable spot and reaches over to pluck her phone from the bedside table.
I watch her read it while staying snuggled close by her side. Her face blossoms with a proud smile.
"What's that for?" I ask.
She shows the phone me, and it's a picture of a radiant Libby and her date as they arrive at the dance. She has the same exact smile on her face that her mother does.
"Well, she might not have your crimples, but she's as good looking as her father, to be sure."
"I was just thinking about how your smiles are exactly alike."
"That's because we both love you so much. We can't help ourselves."
I pull my wife down closer to me and kiss her forehead. "The only way I can bear to allow my baby to grow up is knowing that you'll always be here."
"Yes, but I also know that you're going to smother her if you keep up with your interrogation routine every time she goes out with someone," she nudges my side.
"What?" I ask, knowingly. "What kind of father would I be if I didn't do a little reconnaissance ahead of time?"
"A normal one."
"Now, why would I ever want to be normal when I can be extraordinary?" I grin at her.
"An extraordinary ass, absolutely."
"I'm wounded. How can you even say such things?" I mock. "Everything I do is for the sole purpose of keeping our girl safe."
"Uh-huh. Sure. You almost convinced me just then," Bella rolls her eyes at me.
"Thank you," I say quietly, kissing her forehead once again.
"What's that for?"
"Just thank you. For everything. For letting me live this incredible life with you. For all you went through to bring our Libby into the world. Everything that's important to me stems from being with you. You're such an amazing woman, and I'm really glad that you're mine."
"Of course I'm yours. Who else could I have possibly wanted besides you? And don't forget, you gave Libby to me, too. I didn't do any of that on my own."
I flip Bella's body so that her back is facing me and form my own body into hers. I whisper into her ear how much I love her, and she turns her face to return my sentiment and gives me a tender kiss. As we fall asleep, loving and being loved, I realize that my world is as perfect as it gets.
END NOTE: This outtake is the last part of TNJ. I can't swear that there won't be another outtake at some point, but as of right now, I'm pretty sure this is it. Thank you so much for sharing this story with me, and for giving me your time and your attention. I'm incredibly grateful that you wanted to read my little story.