Hey there! I'm sorry I was such a fail in getting this out to you guys in such a timely manner, but hey, life happens.

This was pre-read by the lovely 107yearoldvirgin and sexy BellaSunshine. This monster (at least for me this is a big chapter) was beta'd by Laurnorder. I also need to thank KitsuShel for kicking my ass in gear to get this done, despite the fact she doesn't read it.

I don't have too much to say, except that this chapter earns it's M rating. Yay!

Songs:

Jet- Look What You've Done

James Morrison- You Get Me/You Give Me Something

Keane-Somewhere Only We Know

Howie Day-Collide

Marcy's Playground- Sex and Candy


"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because, I want you to understand the consequences of your actions...again." Her honesty hits me hard, making me stagger backwards a bit. She lowers her voice and says, "It's not a gift or a joy to live forever. Please think about this."

"Why should I trust you, though? Jasper was the one to keep me from sleeping with Edward the first night; you were encouraging him to cheat on Rosalie."

"You should know by now that everyone is out for themselves. Anything Jasper or myself tell you is mostly based on selfish motives that will benefit us more than you. I know it sounds harsh, but it's the truth. You feel that, don't you-the honesty? I'm not lying to you, Bella."

I can't look at her because I'm sure she's being sincere, and that's something I can't handle right now. She's laid a lot on me, and the last thing this situation needs is forgiveness. What I need more than anything is space.

The urge to flee is overwhelming, so I simply nod at her and leave. I don't tell her where I'm going, although with her super powers, she can guess just fine.

Since Alice had driven us to the coffee house, I hail a cab to go back home. The entire ride back, I think about what I'm going to say, what his possible excuses would be, and would he even make time for me. I'd like to think he will because of his desperation, but now I can't be so sure.

We pull in front of the building and after paying the driver, I stand and look at the huge structure in front of me. It's the first time I have a moment to truly appreciate everything I have, but then a cool wind blows through and I realize, I didn't earn any of this. Edward most likely busted his ass to earn his degrees and built his company from the ground up. He earned everything in his life, what did I ever do to be his equal?

I sold a piece of me, to get what I wanted. Instead of working hard and putting in the long hours, I took the easy way out. I chose scones over crunches and stopped at the start of any muscle pain while on the treadmill. Maybe if I hadn't given up so easily and with a little discipline, I still could have had everything I wanted and even more.

What have I done?

I walk through the lobby of the building, admiring all the little details that had been meticulously picked. No doubt these decisions were made over late nights in a boardroom with beef and broccoli takeout and while Chinese sounds amazing right now, I need to focus. I don't want to think about how much hard work goes into everything around me.I need to make sure that I'm determined to succeed, and when I want to be good at something, I'm going to take full advantage of the time I have left.

I ignore my phone ringing and right when I look to see who it is, the battery dies and reminds me to call Dr. Lady Bits and set up my appointments. And to plug the damn phone in.

I arrive on Edward's floor, not even remembering getting on the elevator. I wonder if I can find a way to rewind time, and do things backwards, so I can see how everything plays out. Kind of like Momento.

I raise my arm to knock, but I stagger back in the hallway and come face to face with Snooki's mom, or at least what I envision Ms. Polozzi to look like. She eyes me warily and for a split second I think I'm staring at my potential life-long employer. I know it's not when I see that her eyes are not a topaz color, but her teeth are. If she spent any more time in a tanning bed, I'm pretty sure she could have been hunted by Steve Irwin and Louis Vuitton for her pretty, leathery hide. She smells like dehydrated hot dogs.

She narrows her eyes and sneers as she looks me up and down. I have no idea who this woman is, why she's leaving Edward's apartment, or most importantly, why she has something against me, because unless she has a qualm with my newscasts, she needs to step off.

She comes up close, so we're almost nose-to-nose and stifles a hacker's cough. I step back a bit and she matches my movements.

"Don't think for one moment I don't know your game. You're taking over her life in every way. My girl was a good girl before she fell in with that lot. You'd be wise to stay away from them too."

I can only guess who that lot is, but I simply nod and before I can say "crikey," she's shaking her head and turning away from me.

Then it hits me who this woman is. It's Mrs. Hale, Rosalie's mother. I see the sorrow behind her eyes, and I do feel somewhat bad that she's lost a child-my mother sucks at life, but clearly Mrs. Hale cared for her daughter. The love of a mother isn't something I'm familiar with, but I can pretend to be sympathetic. Ignoring the definition of a psychopath, I turn my partial attention to the departing, grieving Ms. Hale; the rest of my attention is on the sad piano music flowing into the hallway.

She's finally out of eyeshot because, I pity the woman, but she's an eyesore, I lightly knock on Edward's door. I don't like the idea that she represents what she's lost and the reasons behind music doesn't stop, so I assume that's because he doesn't hear me. I try the knob, surprised that it's unlocked.

I slip in and follow the sad, angry music down the hall. It's strange to be in this area of Edward's place because the furthest I've ever been was his living room. I'm not expecting anything tonight, but a tour would be nice.

I slip into the music room and my heart lurches at what the scene before me. Edward is pouring a large glass of Jack Daniels, throwing it back before chasing the shot with the bottle itself. He sets the bottle on the ground, letting it slip through his fingers. The evening light looks like something out of a self-loathing movie set and Flashdance.

Part of me wants to shake him and tell him to, as Alice would say, "Man the fuck up." The other part would love nothing more to pull him close and tell to him that whatever the problem is, we could work through it. Any hopes of things being okay are shot to shit.

He begins to play again and the sounds break my heart. It's a haunting melody, and though he doesn't know I'm here, it's like he's written that song just for me.

I clear my throat and his head snaps so quickly, I briefly fear he's given himself whiplash.

"Bella, what are you doing here?" His voice is raspy and sexy. I like it.

"I let myself in; I hope that's okay." Suddenly I'm not so sure this was a good idea anymore.

"Absolutely." He stands and slightly stumbles over the piano bench. I move forward to catch him and the moment he's in my arms, everything feels right. I've missed his presence over the past several days, but it's apparent how much I need him. I take a step back from the moment of intensity; that and the awful stench of alcohol on his breath.

"I didn't expect to hear from you for at least a day, let alone see you." He kisses me long and deep, and my head starts swimming; a mix from the liquor and the kiss itself. He pulls away, resting his forehead on mine.

"I've missed you so much," he whispers. He kisses me again, this time it's light and he pulls me into an anaconda-like squeeze.

I wrap my arms around him and whisper, "I'm here now. Why did you stay away?"

"We should sit. He lives me a long, lingering kiss and takes my hand, leading me down the hall.

In my mind I'm chanting, Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom. There's a small part of me that knows I'll get the answer I deserve in regards to his absence, but a larger part of me knows that the answers will come regardless, and I need to get mother-fucking laid. If our previous make-out sessions and the time when Edward dry humped me into oblivion are any indication of what's to come, well then...giddy-up.

Sure enough, he leads in the opposite direction of the family room and opens a door leading to an enormous room, with a California King in the center. There are two lounge chairs sitting in front of a wall made entirely out of windows. I'm really hoping there are blinds somewhere because as fantastic as my body is, I don't want everyone to see it.

He sits on the edge of the bed and spreads his legs, pulling me between them. He hands ghost up and downs my sides, and I wish they'd start being a little more aggressive, a bit more poltergeist.

"I've missed you so much," he says quietly.

"You've said that a few times, but you wouldn't have to be a broken record if you'd called me back or send me a freaking text letting me know what was happening." I resist the urge to fold my arms like a petulant child.

"Would you believe me if I said I was scared?"

"Of what?" I chuckle

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Have you ever wanted something so bad, but thought it was eternally out of reach, only to have it fall right in your lap when you least expect it?"

I suddenly feel like I swallowed my tongue, but instead of flailing, I play it cool and simply say, "Go on."

"That's what you are to me. I've always put work first; I'm successful because I never let distractions in the way. I didn't allow myself to focus on a woman, to put my needs above my own. Sure I've wanted to do things differently, but I've never had the motivation. You make me want things I never thought I could have, and you encompass everything I ever thought unattainable.

"For the first time, in a long time I not only want to do all this, but I know I can, and somehow you inspire so many things for me, and I suddenly have all these emotions I pushed away for so long. I can't even begin to describe how I feel for you,"

I blink back tears, but he still hasn't answered my question. So I ask again, "How am I scary?"

"You aren't scary, Bella. In fact, you're the exact opposite. You're everything that I've been missing in my life, and what terrifies me is the realization of how much I missed out on. It's hard to take a long look in the mirror and see who I've become rather than who I've wanted to be. I thought I was happy with the way things were, then you walk into the Gala, gorgeous and stunning and turn everything upside down."

"Sorry?" I offer.

He laughs and shakes his head. "You're all I think about and you're everything I've ever wanted. Please don't apologize."

"But you don't know me," I say softly.

"I know that you're beautiful, charming, and smart."

I open my mouth to tell him that's he's only listed adjectives, and that's not a lot to go on, but he suddenly he smiles wide and pulls me down for a kiss, tangling his fingers in my hair. He groans as he slips his tongue out to meet mine. My neck starts getting a kink, but I'm already damned, so I'm not stopping this kiss, except to breathe of course. We pull back, both gasping.

"You make me want to tell you things that are absolutely ridiculous and will send you packing, but God help me, I just want to tell you over and over again how much I lo-"

I stop his rambling with another kiss because I don't think either of our hearts can handle what he's about to say. His feelings are all because of me, and not because he knows everything about me, but rather because it's what I've wanted him to believe-to see. The guilt is crushing, but I swallow it down because right now, the man I've wanted is pouring his heart to me and I can't let him continue. It isn't right for him to say those words until he fully understands what is going on and can make up his own mind. He still has the chance of free will.

He pulls me down and rolls us to the middle of the bed-is that a pillow top?

"I understand if you don't feel the same as I do, but you will. You're not the only one with charms. I've been told I can be very charming." Despite his genial tone, there's a slight sadness to his eyes. He grins again and lightly pecks my nose. The mood has now changed from heartfelt to playful and now that the serious part is over.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Absolutely."

"I see."

He places light kisses along my neck and behind my ear, my body is having a positive reaction to his charms.

"I want to know everything about you, and for you to know me," he murmurs in my ear.

"Is that so?" I say against his lips.

"It is. I say we start that now."

"Where do you suggest we begin?"

"I think we should get to be acquainted in the biblical sense."

"I couldn't agree more."

Immediately, he slides his body on top of mine, instinctively my legs spread like melted butter and welcome him right where he needs to be. I let my nails trail up and down, causing him to shudder and groan against my mouth. My hands seem to have a mind of their own as they roam lower and palm Edward's firm ass.

He thrusts, hard, and as a direct result, we're on our way to another epic dry humping, but I don't want that this time and clearly neither does he. I want wet, naked humping and in the words of Veruca Salt, I want it now.

I reach between us and quickly undo Edward's belt, which is increasingly difficult when the man is kissing my neck and whispering dirty things in my ear. I need to focus, and the moment I do, I'm suddenly able to multi-task. I not only undo his belt, but manage to give him an awesome hickey he'll need to hide from the boardroom tomorrow. When he realizes what I've done, he looks hot and pissed, like Detective Stabler.

I give him a slight smirk, pull him back to me and wrestle out of the rest of our clothes. There's nothing sexy or sensual about it. In forty-five seconds we're naked, except for Edward's one lone black trouser sock he's subtly trying to kick off. Finally, we're flush against each other, bit to bit and I don't want to be anywhere but here.

Our breathing becomes measured and the intensity that surrounded us moments before is slowing down, despite the fact my heart is going faster than a racehorse on meth. I'm trying my best to focus on the man, and not the myth. "Bella," he says my name so softly I almost miss it.

Edward looks me in the eye and my heart drops at the vulnerability and yes, the love, written all over his face.

This is wrong, but it's not. It's what I've worked for, if you can call it that. Fuck it, I'm going for it.

Before I can say anything, he kisses me softly, sliding his right hand into my hair and the other is pulling me even closer. Instinct takes over and I hitch my leg a little higher than necessary, and we both groan at the contact our NC-17 parts make, it's the amuse bouche of sex. We both smile, lightly clicking teeth and it hurts but I'm not stopping. As long as he'll have me, I'm his.

He goes slow, at first it's a game of Just the Tip, until I tilt my hips and he's sliding all the way in. He buries his head in the crook my neck, mumbling over and over again what sounds like, "Please be real."

My heart clenches along with my stomach and the guilt is unbearable; it is at least until he begins to move. His light, feather kisses making their way to my lips are finally met with eagerness I'd been holding onto since the first day I saw his picture on USA Today.

Slow and rhythmic turns to hurried and frantic as heartbeats race and a fine sheen of sweat covers every square inch. Our lips brush together between pants and with each thrust, I'm hoping he'll understand how much I need him, need us. As I feel myself begin to fall apart, I don't see stars, but a fucking planetarium, and judging by the way he's yelling and swearing, I think he does too.

"Bella," he mumbles in my hair.

"Hmm?" I'm too blissed out to form actual words.

"Are you going to let me say it?"

"Not right now."

He pulls away and looks at me, and if I didn't know any better, I'd have to call it sorrow. Is he feeling sorry for me or for himself because I won't let him say what he feels? I'm a selfish bitch because either way, it's my own doing of ensnaring this amazing man and not giving him an option to be any other way.

"I need to clean up." I lightly tap his shoulder and wince as he rolls off of me. I clench my legs together and hope I still have what it takes to hop like I'm in a potato sack race to his monstrous bathroom. As I freshen up, I avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I know my cheeks are flushed and my hair's a mess, but I just might break down if I have to stare myself in the eyes.

We switch places as he slips past me and I snuggle back under the covers. I feel his arms wrap around me, and I'm comforted by the rhythm of his heart and the warmth of his breath on my neck.

I wake up, briefly confused about my surroundings until I smell a hint of cologne and semen. It's not the best way to wake up, especially because it's still dark outside and I'm alone. The space where Edward was sleeping is cold, and I hope he's still here. I may have sold my soul, but damn-it, I'm still a lady.

I hear the TV in the main living room and throw on the shirt he was wearing before our interlude. He's sitting on the couch, nursing an amber liquid and staring at the large box. He's freshly showered and dressed in track pants and a t-shirt, the hickey is somewhat noticeable. I can't help but admire my handiwork.

"Hey," I say, breaking him of his trance.

"Hi, there." His smile is soft and warm. He pats the seat next to him, but I opt to sit in his lap. My lack of panties is noticed instantly and I receive an appreciative thrust and naughty tickle with his fingers.

"How long have you been out here?" I nip his earlobe.

"Long enough that I was going to wake you up."

"Yeah?"

"What can I say, I missed you. You've reduced me to a sucker."

I slide off his lap with the intention to get on my knees, but end up shamelessly spreading my legs, letting him get a full peek at the goods. It wasn't my intention to be such a hussy, but with the way he's staring, I'm the canary and he really wants to be a cat.

I feel self-conscious and lower my leg, but he stops me with his hand and a shake of his head. He props one leg on the table and the other on the edge of the couch, sliding to his knees. Succulent kisses trail from my knee, up to where it counts and after two tentative flicks of his tongue, he goes all in.

I'm hardly prepared for the aggressiveness, and I squeal when his nose flicks my clit. It's never felt this good before; I grab on to his hair and go with it, Moaning like the whore I am, I yell his name repeatedly when he slides two fingers and sucks right there.

"Fuck me," I chant over and over again.

"You want me to stop?" The gleam in his eyes tells me he doesn't want to, and who am I to deny the man?

"Hell no."

My eyes roll to the back of my head when he goes back down and doesn't relent until I beg, on the verge of tears for him to stop teasing and let me come. My body becomes alive as I unravel into a useless, babbling mass of nonsense.

I hear a dark chuckle and man who is clearly satisfied and amused by my inability to function, although not too much based on the Coleman he's got going on. I make a weak attempt to reach for him and end up tumbling off the couch, landing on my shoulder with a loud "Oof."

I gather my bravado and climb into his lap, still tender but needing so much more.

"I meant what I said."

"What's that?"

"Fuck me," I demand.

I move to slide his pants down, but he grabs hand, kissing the inside of my wrist. "Bella, wait."

"You want to do that?"

"It was okay, right?"

"Uhm, that and everything," he stammers, running a hand through his hair. The confidence and self-assured attitude is gone. It's been replaced by an insecurity that I wouldn't have ever thought existed.

"You're kidding, right?"

He shakes his head and sighs. I know what he's going to say, and I'm not going to let that bitch get in the way of what we have. "Rosalie always said that I had room for improvement." My heart hurts at the vulnerability in front of me and I'm so glad that bitch is gone.

"Seriously? Edward, that right there, what you just did, was incredible, and what happened in the bedroom earlier was..." I don't have any words to describe it, so I kiss him.

I let my emotions flow and he quickly responds, understanding that he has nothing to be worried about. I slide his pants to his knees and quickly straddle him, positioning his cock under me, and quickly bring us together. I love the feeling of him growing hard while inside, feeling his need to be with me intensify.

He grabs my hips and slams into me, meeting me thrust for thrust. "Fuck yes," he grounds out.

"Oh, you like the dirty talk?" I roll my hips against him and smirk.

He gives me a bruising kiss as an answer, swiftly peeling his shirt off my body.

"You like it when I tell you to fuck me?" I whisper in his ear, earning a grunt and harder thrusts in response and I close my eyes, but quickly open them when I feel his tongue flicking my nipple. Any lack of confidence has vanished and my sex-God is in full swing.

"You like that, Bella, knowing what you do to me. Look down, baby." I glance down and I can't see much because if he goes any deeper, I'll feel it in my throat, but he doesn't relent and the assault of his words and his dick quickly bring me to my breaking point. I kiss him, wet and sloppy with everything I have and squeeze my eyes tight as I come.

He comes too, moaning and grunting and falls comically limp against the couch. "We need to do this a lot more often." We laugh and again, I dismount the best I can hoping I don't dribble his affection on his pretty Persian rug.

This time, when we clean ourselves off, it's together in the shower. There's no funny business, but he washes my hair, a first for me and I want to tell him how I feel, I do, but I can't. Not yet. I need to find a way to make sure his love for me is all his, and not a side effect of my contract.

We curl up again as the sun is rising and I can't fall asleep. I'm comfortable in Edward's pajamas, but I know it'd be better in my own.. I slip out and head down to my apartment, planning to return as soon as I've slipped into my own clothes.

I stop in my tracks at sight of the man on my couch, looking more attractive than I've ever seen him, knowing my attraction to him isn't genuine, but I find myself pulled to him anyway.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, darlin', sex with you smells so sweet in the morning, wouldn't you agree?" He flashes me a wicked smile.

"Jasper, what do you want?" I really don't have time for this and the longer we're around each other, the more dangerous he is.

He sucks on a Tootsie Pop and pats the couch. "Sit down, Bella. Let's have a chat."


I'm sorry for the cliffie! I'm working on the next chapter, so I promise to try and be quick.

Reviewers get teasers!

Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me through the inadvertant hiatus.

Love you guys!

Cheers

Anne