Welcome to the sequel to YouWereThere. If you have read it, you'll know from my A/N that I have been planning this sequel for some time. If you didn't read YouWereThere, I can't guarantee that this will always make sense.
Thanks to every one of you who supported me through YWT; you are the ones I'm doing this for.
I do not own Twilight.
All chapter titles, as well as the story title, are songs by Cole Porter.
Thank you from the deepest depths of my heart to my wonderful, incomparable, brilliant beta, dellaterra.
Any remaining typo, grammatical or other errors are mine.
Chapter One: SilverMoon
"Happy anniversary, my love."
Edward raises his glass and clinks it against mine. We both take a sip before he pulls me close to his chest.
"Happy three-month anniversary," I smile, and our lips meet in a soft kiss.
This will never get old, the love that courses through my veins when I feel him, taste him. His skin is warm from spending the day in the sun, and he smells like the sun too.
"I love you," he murmurs against my lips. "I love you so much, my little lamb."
His lashes brush over my cheekbone as his lips kiss a path to my ear.
"I love you too." I twine my arms around his neck. "You're everything to me." I sigh when I feel his lips touch the sensitive area under my ear. "I've never been so happy."
"Mmm…" Edward's breath tickles me pleasantly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me…"
Some long kisses and whispered endearments later, we settle down to have dinner. After four weeks, the view of the Tuscan fields in the twilight still amazes me. The rich greens and yellows of the endless plains are divided by tall cypress trees bordering the fields and country roads. In the far distance, the sky is still tinted with the deep pinks and oranges of another spectacular sunset.
"Coming here was the best decision ever," I inform Edward, feeding him a piece of bruschetta.
He smiles happily, his green eyes twinkling, as he tickles my knee.
"It was, wasn't it?"
We kiss, and I allow myself to bask in our little bubble. Well, actually, it's a huge bubble we've been living in for the past month, and I'm enjoying every minute. Every single day convinces me even more that Edward and I are truly made for each other. We may be different in some ways, but we're always on the same page where it counts.
I catch Edward smiling at me with his head slightly cocked to one side, wearing that crooked grin I love so much.
"What?" I ask him, teasing him by tickling his ear.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about how lucky I am. I have a beautiful wife who loves me, she's a Broadway star -"
"I'm not a star!" I interrupt him, snorting.
"I saw you give autographsthe last time I collected you after the show," Edward insists, kissing me.
"One," I mumble against his lips. "I gave oneautograph to a guy in his seventies."
"Doesn't matter," he whispers as he continues to kiss me. "You're a star. A beautiful, sexy star."
Nothing is better than kissing my husband, so we continue to do just that for quite some time. We are getting carried away a little until Edward tells me that he needs to look after our main dish so it won't burn.
By the time we eat our filettoalbalsamico, it's almost dark and Edward has lit a lot of candles, alongside several anti-mosquito lights. Edward likes to make fun of me, claiming that my blood must be so delicious, but I don't know why these devils pounce only on me, leaving Edward blissfully unbitten. It's the same with tanning: I'll only get red if I sit in the sun, while Edward looks even more gorgeous than usual with his skin slightly bronzed.
As always, the food he prepared is delicious, and I tell him so numerous times. We chat about this and that, mainly our trip to Florence the other day. We'd been there three times, so I wasn't as awe-struck as before. This time, Edward showed me the Boboli Gardens and the Palazzo Pitti.
Sometimes, I still find it strange that I am Mrs. Cullen now. I mean, I have a different name now. How weird is that? I'm still keeping Isabella Swan as my stage name though.
I'm glad we waited to be married. Edward's proposal came less than a year after we'd met, and even though we both knew that it was what we wanted, we waited for another sixteen months to tie the knot.
Time has flown since that December night when Edward asked me to marry him. After the huge success of Cornelius' production of CatonaHotTinRoof, I didn't have problems in finding work any longer. I was Lady Macbeth in his version of the play, acted in two short films and did a TV drama. There were readings, auditions, and a week of filming for a smaller part in a romantic comedy.
Thanks to Cornelius and my agent, Laurent, I am now able to choose to do what I want. I never planned on a Hollywood career anyway. I just want to act in plays with people I respect and like.
While Edward and I talk and touch and laugh, the little black cat that visits us every night around this time makes its appearance, and Edward goes to the kitchen and fills the plastic bowl he bought in the village. He adores the cat and I just know that he'd like to take her with us if that were possible; but apart from the complications at Customs, I'm not sure how Cedric would react to an intruder into his kingdom.
While Edward tends to his small friend, I clear the table and load the dishwasher in the spacious, rustic kitchen. I'll be sorry to leave here in a few days. I love it here, and with Edward as my guide, I've even learnt a lot of stuff.
Like how sexy it is to hear him speak Italian. I never realized he was that good at it, even though it shouldn't have surprised me, since he lived in Italy for three months before he went to Harvard.
Edward is leaning against the doorframe, looking good enough to eat in his low-riding jeans and a white t-shirt. His feet are bare on the terracotta tiles and I smile because I love his big toes.
Call me strange, but you know what they say about men with big feet, right? In Edward's case, it's actually true.
When I look at him, Edward has this lazy, sexy smile on his face.
"Care for a little walk in the garden?"
"Yes." I take his hand.
The garden is large and beautiful, with a pool that glitters like liquid silver in the moonlight. It is silent but for the chirping of crickets and the low rustle of cypress trees in the mild breeze. We stand in the middle of the lawn, the pool to our left and the terrace to our right. I lean back against Edward's chest and he nuzzles my neck with his nose while his hands slide beneath the hem of my silk top, tenderly brushing the skin of my stomach. Soft, warm lips caress the tender spot under my ear and I close my eyes, my body reacting instantly to his touch.
After more than two years, our physical connection hasn't become less exciting in any way; if possible, it's become stronger. We're so close, and it's never stifling or boring. Quite the opposite. I get fidgety when he's not around.
This January, he went to a conference in Toronto. He was away for ten days, and beforehand, I was horribly afraid that I might react like that one time, almost two years ago, when he went to London and I had a breakdown.
Surprisingly, it was okay. We missed each other like hell. But I was so engrossed in work that time passed quite quickly. Seth had an eye on me all the time, aware of the potentially difficult situation, and we had some lovely evenings together, just like we used to do.
Edward's fingers move higher at my sides, which makes me giggle. He knows exactly how ticklish I am and he can't keep himself from teasing me until I'm wriggling around in his arms, squealing and laughing. I only make it worse when I try to free myself, Edward tickling me mercilessly while he blows raspberries on my neck. Breathless with laughter, I decide to play unfair and swiftly move my hand behind me, covering the bulge in his jeans. Edward groans.
"That's so cheap," he mutters throatily.
At that, I take my chance and dart off, grinning victoriously. Edward follows me a second later and, having longer legs, quickly catches up. He lifts me up while I squeak and struggle.
"Now, Isabella," he growls playfully, and I know I'm in for it.
Shit, I run in the direction of the pool.
"Seems like someone needs to cool down…"
He's swinging me to and fro as if I were a tiny package, and I'm protesting while I giggle hysterically.
It's no use. Seconds later, and with a loud splash, I'm thrown into the pool, squealing as my clothes get soaked by the lukewarm water. With another splash, Edward lands next to me, causing more water to cascade down on us.
"You're a devil," I gurgle.
Edward is panting he's laughing so hard as he pulls me close.
"I couldn't help it," he snorts, firmly grabbing my ass. "I just needed to get you wet."
I twine my arms and legs around him. He feels good, even with his t-shirt sticking to his body.
"You normally have other ways of getting me wet," I whisper in his ear, licking along the rim of it.
"I know; it's sad, isn't it?" He swallows and looks down at my nipples, which are straining against the silk of my blouse. "But I needed to see that."
He kisses my neck, the base of my throat, and my collarbone. When his lips touch me through the wet material, I arch my back and press myself against him, feeling his erection.
Impatient fingers bunch up my top, which stubbornly clings to my skin.
"Off, off, off with that," Edward half-chuckles and half-moans against my neck. Together we manage to pull it over my head and he throws it to the side of the pool.
I quickly follow with his t-shirt, and once my bra has joined our clothes, I sigh with relief when our naked upper bodies touch.
It's been twelve hours since we last made love, so I'm pretty famished for Edward's body.
Our lips meet in a hot kiss, nibbling, sucking and teasing. His tongue slides against mine and it's warm and eager and soft and demanding. I can feel how hard he is and I move against him, causing a small moan escape from his lips.
"Edward," I murmur. "I want you… so badly…"
I manage to open a couple of his fly buttons and reach inside, sighing once I'm able to touch him, hard and warm and desperate for me.
"Baby… oh…" Edward shudders at my touch. "We need to get to the side… Oh my God…"
The angle is awkward, but I manage to stroke him, and I love that he feels so familiar, and yet so exciting. While I continue to touch him, Edward moves us to the edge of the pool, where we make quick work of the last remaining articles of our clothing.
"What you do to me…" Edward's hot breath caresses my skin while his fingers tease me until I'm throbbing, moaning his name as he pushes me against the tiled wall.
"Edward… yes… oh yes…"
He enters me with two fingers and I wind my legs more tightly around him, my calves twining around his buttocks. I bite his shoulder when he speeds up his movements. His fingers are divine, slightly curling inside me, which earns him another bite and a low groan.
"Ah… Edward… want you… need you…"
"Yeah…" His eyes are hooded, looking quite dark in the silvery moonlight.
With one swift movement, he pulls me against him and I can feel him straining against my opening. Our eyes lock, and it's that magical moment before we become one, filled with anticipation – and sheer lust.
He enters me deeply, both of us groaning joyfully. It's the best feeling in the world. Edward fills me; he completes me, and my whole body responds to him. There's nothing but us, man and wife, and the intense pleasure we're giving each other. This is how it's meant to be.
"So good," he grunts, gripping the edge of the pool on both sides of my head for leverage, slamming into me. With each forceful thrust, he rubs against me, intensifying the pleasure that builds in my belly. It tingles and tenses and I'm already close to a joyous release, and by the sounds Edward is making, I can tell that it's the same with him. He looks incredibly beautiful in the moonlight, like marble, long lashes framing his almond-shaped eyes, wet strands of hair sticking to his forehead.
Our moans are getting more urgent and I cling to Edward, the pressure becoming unbearable as he buries himself again and again deep inside me.
"Edward… oh God…" A small whimper escapes my lips. "Yes, oh… ah… ahhh…"
I swear that I can see stars as my whole body is overtaken by waves of pleasure. It seems to be going on forever, and I shake and shudder as I feel Edward find his fulfillment, smaller trembles rippling through me as I slowly come down.
Edward is breathless, resting his face on my shoulder. I don't let go of him, kissing his wet cheek, his ear, his hair.
"I love you," he whispers. "Love you, love you, love you…"
I smile lazily. "I love you, too." I curl a strand of his hair around my finger. "More than anything…."
"I don't want to leave here," I say later, when we're snuggled up in bed, my head on Edward's chest.
"You'll love London," he says in a soft, relaxed voice.
"I don't doubt it," I say. I lightly tickle the dusting of bronze hair on his chest. "But will you have time to show me around with your conference thingy going on?"
"My conferencethingy," Edward replies in an amused voice, "doesn't start for ten days. Anyway, I have to give only the two seminars. The rest of the time I'll be yours, Mrs. Cullen." He takes my hand and kisses my fingers. "Okay?"
"Okay," I sigh, already feeling sleepy.
Edward kisses my temple.
"I love you," he whispers, switching off the light.
"I love you too…"
I yawn and cuddle closer into the delicious security of his arms. Minutes later, we're both asleep.
I can't believe how quickly the last five days of our stay in Italy have sped by.
If anyone had told me three years ago that marriage could be this, I would not have believed them. Every morning when I wake up next to this gorgeous creature, I have to tell myself that she is my wife, and my previous experience as a husband just doesn't compare.
This is perfection.
Every day, I thank the gods that I dragged my ass to Alice's party two and a half years ago, because that night changed my life.
I watch my sleeping wife and my heart brims over with love. She's on her stomach, her dark hair splayed out across the pillow. She looks peaceful, breathing evenly, her lips in a sweet pout.
We've been married for three months, but to me it seems like yesterday that we spoke our vows in front our families and friends. That was one of the best days of my life. I will not say the best day, because every day with Bella proves to be better than the last one. I love her so completely, so much, that it almost hurts.
Kissing Bella's sleep-warm shoulder, I murmur, "Good morning, love. Time to get up."
Bella mumbles something into her pillow, her arm reaching out for me, grabbing my thigh.
"Baby." I kiss her neck. "Our flight leaves in four hours. We don't want to be late."
Bella grumbles. She's never been much of a morning person, and unless she's working and has to be somewhere, it can be almost impossible to get her out of bed.
I kiss her again, softly nibbling at her neck, which makes her giggle sleepily.
"Come on, Bella." I say, even though I want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and immerse myself in her taste and smell and her soft -
I gently pat her butt and get up, knowing that if I don't, we will be late. The drive to Florence will take ninety minutes, and we'll have to return the rental once we're at the airport.
I take a shower and make coffee, hearing Bella bustle around in the bedroom while I bring our suitcases to the door. Thank God she's not one of those women who takes tons of clothes with them. We still have a lot of luggage because we've been shopping a lot during the last month. There are hats and books and heaps of souvenirs for everyone back home. Bella stopped me from buying even more olive oil and dried herbs and cookbooks than I already had.
A few minutes later, she joins me in the kitchen, looking cute as a button in a flowery blue dress and sandals.
"I'm really sad to leave," she sighs, sitting down next to me, stirring milk and two spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee. She kisses me. "Aren't you?"
"Of course," I say. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe we could come back next year. What do you think?"
"I'd love that." She sighs once more and takes a sip of coffee, then kisses me again. "Thank you, my darling, for the most wonderful honeymoon." Her soft lips brush across mine. "I love you, husband."
I can feel her smile, and it makes me smile as well.
"I love you too, wife."
By the time we've finished breakfast and I've loaded the trunk of our rental, the sun is shining warmly. For one last time, I breathe in the smell of the country, of wood and earth and bougainvillea.
"Look." Bella points to the wooden gates.
"Oh my God."
It's Rosie, the small black cat that's been visiting us daily. Obviously, we don't know her name, but I figured that Rosie might be okay because the first time we saw her, she was in a rosebush. Crouching down, I say good-bye to her, and then it's time to say good-bye to San Gimignano as well.
Our drive through the countryside is relatively quiet, both of us wrapped up in memories of the last four weeks. Whatever the future may bring, this place will always be dear to my heart.
Bella's hand seeks out mine, and I know she feels the same way. Smiling, she lightly squeezes my fingers. Once we get into Florence, traffic becomes crazy. It's a common fact that Italians like to drive racily, but I find it really nerve-wracking and I'm glad when we reach the AeoroporteFirenze. It has become hot meanwhile and by the time I've loaded a trolley with our luggage and we've returned the rental, I'm sweaty.
We check in and have a cappuccino. We stroll through the duty-free area and Bella buys a few magazines and I get a cooking magazine. Our flight is called and the Alitalia flight attendant greets us with a big smile as we board the plane. We're seated near the emergency exit, which makes Bella visibly relax because she doesn't like flying much. I hold her hand during takeoff, soothingly stroking her palm with my thumb. She puts her head on my shoulder. The flight passes quickly as we browse through the hundreds of photos we've taken that are on my laptop.
Bella giggles happily when we get to the ones of me diving into the water completely naked. She kisses my cheek.
"My beautiful man," she whispers. She lightly bites my earlobe. "Edward…"
Her hand wanders upwards on my thigh.
Her breath is warm as she whispers into my ear. "Have you ever had sex on a plane?" Her tongue darts out for a tiny lick.
"No…" I feel my breathing hitch as her fingers tickle higher. "Did… did you?"
"Not really… There was a bit of groping once, but then we went into some turbulence and –"
The fastenyourseatbelt signs go on and we are told the same over the loudspeakers.
"Damn it," I murmur into her ear.
"Good thing we have a longer flight when we go back home," she teases. "Maybe then we can join the Mile-High Club."
Bella twines her arm around my waist as we make our way through Heathrow Airport, and I put my arm around her shoulder. It's such a change from the quiet Italian life we lived over the past few weeks. Now we're surrounded by people on the move through the hectic airport, the sound of British accents so familiar to my ears, evoking memories of the past.
"Excited?" I say as we wait by the conveyor belt to get our baggage.
Bella nods; her cheeks are slightly pink. I kiss her nose.
"What do you want to do first?"
Bella grins, standing up on her tiptoes and kissing my chin.
"Take a shower with you. Then see the crown jewels." She giggles. "Oh wait, that's the same thing, isn't it?" She snorts adorably at her own lame joke, and I shake my head.
"Okay," she continues. "Have a shower, with you, and then take a walk to see the statue of Laurence Olivier."
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting that," I chuckle.
Bella kisses my chin, but suddenly jumps out of my arms. "Oh, wait! There's your suitcase!"
An hour later, we enter our suite at the Savoy Hotel and I hand the bellboy a tip.
"Oh my God!" Bella exclaims as she walks through the large room. "This is gorgeous!"
Three floor-to-ceiling windows offer an incredible view of the Thames and the Bankside district. The room is furnished in tasteful colours of cream and roses, slightly old-fashioned in a very British way. There's a huge king-sized bed and a plush sofa, chintz curtains and cute little lamps. When Bella and I looked at the website, it said the suite was decorated in an Edwardian style, which Bella found lovely and I, funny, so I booked the River View Deluxe Room. There are fresh flowers, and a complimentary fruit basket with a bottle of champagne.
Bella takes my hand.
"Come on," she says, "let's see if the bathroom's equally gorgeous."
We have dinner at a lovely restaurant on the south bank of the Thames. Hundreds of little lights on both sides of the river are mirrored in the dark water, dancing on its surface. It's still warm enough to be sitting outside, though much cooler than it was in Italy. We had a delicious meal of trout, followed by a ginger and cranberry pudding that we shared. Now, we're lingering over our wine, holding hands and looking at the silent river.
I'm glad we'll have five days together before the conference starts. I want to show Bella around, and I also want her to meet my family. Liam and Maggie aren't technically my aunt and uncle, but rather some great-grand cousins of Carlisle and Aro. I've always been close to them, especially after living with them during my semester abroad, when I studied at King's College.
In addition, Aro also happens to be in London at the moment, and Bella is looking forward to seeing him again.
"Do you like it so far?" I ask, kissing her ear.
Bella smiles and nestles her face between my chin and shoulder, pulling her cardigan closer around her.
"It's lovely. And I did see the statue!"
She made me take at least twenty picture of her next to the statue of Laurence Olivier in front of the National Theatre, which is on the other side of the river, a fifteen-minute walk from our hotel.
"You did," I chuckle, playing with her fingers in my lap. "And did he meet your expectations?"
"Not really." She scrunches her nose. "His legs looked like toothpicks in those tights."
"Yeah, I agree on that."
"Huh." She playfully slaps my arm. "No need to be jealous." She kisses me, gently tugging my bottom lip with hers. "You're the only one I'll ever want."
Arm in arm, we walk slowly back to the hotel, which is proudly towering over the river, illuminated and standing tall between equally large buildings. The night air softly strokes our skin as we stand in the middle of Waterloo Bridge, looking at the majestic shapes of the Millenium Wheel, Westminster Abbey, and Big Ben, glowing golden against the dark cloak of the night.
I pull Bella closer against my chest and kiss the top of her head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. I never thought I could be so happy.
And we have our whole lives before us. Together.
Thank you to everyone for reading. I am very excited that I'm finally starting to post this story. The Bella and Edward from YouWereTherewill be embarking on a fluffy, dramatic, and lemony journey, and I'm counting on your support.
Please leave a review, because that is the one reward we fanfiction writers get.