A/N: This o/s is based on the song Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crowe. I originally started writing this for a "Lemons & Lyrics" o/s contest but real life got in the way and I missed the deadline. Whoops! I finally found a little time to finish it and here it is.
Thanks a bunch to my bff Bostongirl1212 for helping me polish all of the rough spots (in fanfic world and the real world). Luvs and hugs.
Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight but I own the sexy, naked Rock Star Edward that lives in this o/s.
The gruesome sound of someone vomiting slowly drags him into consciousness. He isn't exactly awake, his eyes refuse to open, but he was definitely more coherent than he cares to be at this moment.
He isn't sure where the wretched fucking gagging is coming from, but he could tell it was somewhere close by. The repulsive sound only seemed to get louder as he becomes more alert. It's doing absolutely nothing to ease the pounding that beating against the inside of his skull.
With a deep groan rolling from his chest, he lifts his arms above his head, stretching his tight muscles. An aching pain throbs through his entire body, the residual affects of putting on a kickass show or way too much partying. The night before is still pretty foggy but he's pretty sure it was the latter.
Expensive liquor and hard drugs coat the back his throat, leaving his tongue too thick and sticky to even moisten his cracked lips. Furiously, he rubs his face trying to remove the sleep before attempting to open his burning, blood shot eyes. When he finally forces them open, he takes a quick glance around the room trying to remember where he is and how the hell he got here.
Home… sort of.
He's relieved when he recognizes that he's in his suite at the Four Seasons. It's as close to home as he was going to get right now. He's stayed here many times in the last few years. He's fond of this place. Well, as found as you can be of living in a hotel. It's familiar at least.
The puking woke him up finally stops and he hears water running. He has no idea who the fuck is in his bathroom but when the mattress shifts next to him, he knows someone in his bathroom is the least of his problems. Shit!
Without looking to see who's lying beside him, he slides his hand down his bare chest, over the length of his body until it reaches his dick. Naked, fuck!
He isn't shocked. He'd probably be more surprised to wake up and actually find himself dressed for once. Waking up bare assed, lying beside someone he barely knows, or doesn't even remember, had become the norm during the last year.
Since she left.
Movement from across the room calls his attention. A girl he doesn't recognize stumbles out of the bathroom. The puker he assumes. Brunette, naked and young. Too fucking young, eighteen tops. Shit! His hands bury in his hair pulling roughly.
Her face slowly becomes vaguely familiar the longer he watches her. His eyes squint, a deep crevice growing between his brow as he tries to remember her name. Lori, Lana, Lorna… he has no fucking clue. And frankly doesn't fucking care either. Thinking this hard, trying to remember, is just making the pounding in his head much worse.
As long as she's eighteen, it doesn't matter what the fuck her name is.
She stumbles but catches her self on a side table sending empty bottles crashing to the floor. His eyes take in the full sight of her. Her hair is a knotted mess, black makeup smeared under her eyes. She holds on to the wall, making her way towards the bed. She nearly falls again but makes it to the chair in the corner where she ungracefully flops down, unable to go any further.
He watches her head sway back and forth on her neck. She's slack jawed. Drunk and … God only knows what else. He can see that she is still completely wasted.
Night after night it was the same sad routine. Way too much cocaine and whiskey, and way too much fucking pain from the huge hole she left in his chest. But no matter how hard he tries, none of it does a damn thing to numb his pain. Not even the endless line of women sliding in and out of his bed would satisfy his need.
An addict doesn't feed his addiction on anything but the drug he craves. She was his exact brand of heroine. He was addicted to her and nothing else could fill the void.
The body next to him shifts again. He nudges her, not so gently, in the ribs with a hard elbow.
"Hey," he growls, trying to wake her up. He's hoarse, his throat still scratchy and dry. He doesn't look to see who face is buried in the pillow next to him. It doesn't fucking matter. She just needs to leave and take the fucking puker with her.
A high pitched, whiney moan jogs his memory. Tanya. She's a regular around here but not a regular in his bed. Usually Emmett's.
"Fuck", he curses under his breath but loud enough for her to hear. One more fucking person I've pissed off.
"Not yet, baby. I'm still fucking sore from last night," Tanya mumbles from beneath the blankets that are barely covering her naked body.
He clears his throat trying to find his voice but before he can tell her to get the hell out, the sound of the telephone ringing on the other side of the bedroom door stops him.
Edward strains to listen, wondering who else is in his suite. Not one, but two, naked women in his bedroom is a good indicator that he must have thrown a hell of a party last night. There's no telling how many passed out motherfuckers might be strewn around the rest of his hotel.
It's Jasper's voice he hears on the other side of the door.
"No, I'm sorry. Edward is in a meeting. I'm his manager. Is there something I can help you with?" Jasper, always covering for my stupid ass. Even when we were kids.
But Edward knew Jasper, the band manager, would rip him a new one for being forced to cover for him, again.
"Hey Darlin'," Jasper's voice shoots an octave higher and Edward can practically hear the smile in his words. "How ya' doin'?" He isn't trying to mask his southern drawl either. It's someone he knows well.
"No, he really isn't hear, Bella. Do you want to leave him a message? I promise he'll get it as soon as he gets back." Jasper answers, the happiness now sounding strained and forced.
Edward's stomach drops at the sound of her name.
A stabbing pain crushes through the left side of his chest, radiating through his whole body. His lungs constricts so tightly it's hard to breath. It's not a heart attack but he wishes it was. It would be easier to cure.
Edward can still hear the murmur of Jasper's voice but he's purposely talking quieter to keep their conversation private.
It doesn't matter, Edward knows her too well. She won't believe Jasper's lie. She was here for far too long, she knows the drill. She's been here, tired and hungover, trying to sleep it off while Jasper swears to the faceless person on the phone or in the other side of the door, that Edward Cullen has left the building. She isn't stupid. She knows.
The guilt builds in his chest, suffocating him. He tries to push it down, tries to convince himself it wasn't his fault.
She was the one that fucking left. She's the one that wanted out of this, not me. She gave up. Her. All her choice, right? So, why does this feel so wrong?
Several minutes later he realizes the sound of Japser's voice has faded, he must have hung up. Rolling over to his side, he stares at the night stand drawer. Before reaching to open it, he slowly peeks over his shoulder. The puker is passed out in the chair, her neck twisted in an odd uncomfortable position. He doesn't care.
His eyes fall to Tanya beside him. She quietly snores, still dead to the world.
He gently pulls the drawer open, without making a sound, looking in at the one and only thing inside. The wooden frame is face down but he knows exactly what's waiting for him on the other side. It's always beside him, no matter what city or what hotel. Her picture is always hidden but within reach.
Carefully, he lifts it by the edges knowing the glass is still cracked from when he threw it across the room. He stares at the creased photo. Warm brown eyes smile back him. They're filled with so much love and innocence. Her cheeks, pink from blushing.
"You're so fucking beautiful, baby" he yells. Her cheeks blush and his heart swells. Even after all these years, he can still make her blush. The camera snaps and the moment if frozen in time. In this frame and in his heart.
She was so beautiful. Is so beautiful.
The hand of the woman lying next to him snakes its way under the covers coming to rest across his hip. Once again, he's overcome with guilt. He should be with her, not these fucking whores. He visibly cringes with remorse, roughly pushing Tanya's hand away from him.
Quickly, he places the picture safely back in the drawer. Face down. I'm sorry, Baby. I can't look at you while I'm lying next to her.
He rolls back over surveying just how fucked up his life has become. The brunette's naked ass is sprawled out across the stark white hotel furniture. She looks like a strung out hooker. He hopes she isn't but it wouldn't be the first time.
He pulls himself up, sitting with his back against the padded headboard. "Tanya," he yells, shoving her shoulder with the palm of his hand.
"What the hell," she grumbles, still half asleep.
"Get the fuck up," he growls.
"Come on Emmett," she whines, "I'm tired. Let's just sleep baby," she begs without removing the pillow from over her head.
"Edward," he growls. More fucking guilt.
Her head shoots up, eyes wide with shock. "Oh, whoops," she giggles sleepily. "I'm sorry, Edward. How could I forget?" She rolls towards him, reaching for his cock under the blanket. His reflexes much faster than hers, he's able grabs her arm stopping her before her boney fingers can get wrapped around his dick.
"Get the fuck out. And take your friend with you," he nods his head towards the lifeless body in the chair.
"My friend?" she smiles mischievously. "Last night she was our friend," she winks at him, her tongue sweeping slowly across her lips. Her attempt at being seductive makes his stomach turn. The scowl on his face tells her as much.
"I don't give a fuck whose friend she is, Tanya. Get the fuck out and take her with you." he spits, pushing her harder than he should shoving her off the bed.
Completely shocked, she clumsily scrambles to her feet and yanks the sheet off the bed to cover her exposed body.
"What the fuck, Edward?" She used to waking up to men filled with nothing but gratitude and requests for more. "This is bullshit," she hisses. Her tear filled eyes glare at him telling him what he already knows. "You're such an asshole, Edward Cullen, she screams. "I hope you rot in hell."
The words ring through his ears causing him to physically flinch in pain. They may have come from Tanya's mouth, but it was only Bella's voice he heard.
She can't take her eyes off the clock radio. She's lost in the voice that oozes from the crackling speaker. His voice. Her song.
Red numbers blur under her tears. Her hand aches to slap it off the night stand sending it crashing to the floor. Instead, her fingers remain gripped tightly into the pillow under her head. Always holding on, unable to let him go.
The song comes to an end and she sighs in relief. She wipes her eyes before finally reaching over to turn off the alarm. She slowly looks over her shoulder. He's still snoring. Stupid mistake. Damn.
She quietly climbs out of bed, tiptoeing to the kitchen avoiding the squeaky boards, not wanting to wake him. The sooner he wakes up, the sooner she'll have to look him in the eye.
In the kitchen, she is hypnotized by the rhythmic drips of the coffee maker. The lyrics of his song slip back into her thoughts. The smooth melody swarms through her soul, taking purchase around her heart. Before she realizes it, there are tears, again.
Coffee in hand, she curls up in her favorite chair, the morning sun filters through the window. It warms her face but does nothing for the bitter cold that refuses to release her. Staring out across the snow covered lawn, she's overcome with memories filled with dark green eyes, angry and pleading.
Her gaze drops to the small table at her side that holds her forgotten cup of coffee and her soul. She stares at the brass knob, silently willing herself to walk away. Don't do it.. Don't open that drawer. Just leave it closed. Inside this drawer is the only thing in this world she's ever truly wanted. Him.
Her fingers squeeze tightly around the knob, holding on for several seconds. Conflicted in her pain, she prays for the strength to open it but also the strength to leave it closed. Some habits are just too hard to quit.
She slides the small drawer open. Her brown eyes are met with vibrant green. She doesn't dare touch the picture. She knows if she allows herself to touch it just once, she'll never be able to let it go.
Before she can talk herself out of it, her cell phone is against her ear. It rings several times, giving her ample opportunity to hang up, but she holds on. Always holding on.
This is a bad idea. I should hang up, this is stupid. He doesn't want to hear from me.
She needs to hear his voice, just want to make sure he's ok. I'm not ok.
When Jasper answers the line she debates whether to identify herself or not. She isn't sure she should tell him who she is.
"Is Edward available," she tried to mask her voice but it cracks. The words are so quiet though she isn't sure if even he heard her.
His voice is all business. "He isn't available, ma'am. He's in a meeting," Jasper lies, identifying himself as Edward's manager. A smile pulls at her lips. She's glad Jasper is there watching out for him. It used to be her job to look out for him. Not anymore. Not for a long time.
He asks her if there is something he can help her with. "No, no thank you," she replies, deciding against identifying herself. I shouldn't have called. "I'll, just… uh.. I'll try back later." It's a lie.
"Hey, Darlin'! How are ya'?"
Pleasantries are exchanged. His voice isn't business anymore. It's so genuine. All Jasper.
She finds the courage to ask. "So, is Edward really out or just…?"
His hesitation rips through her heart. She holds her breath willing the pain away. She knows what his silence means. It's not the first time they've had this conversation.
She stumbles out of the suite, holding on to the door frame with one hand trying to button her blouse with the other. So drunk. She woke up with little recollection of where she was or what the fuck had happened. Her clothes in disarray and the smell of tequila on her skin, left there by his lips. Not Edward's. Edward never drinks tequila.
She remembered Edward being the room but then he was gone. She vaguely remembers that. He said Edward would be back any minute. He was just going to go grab another eight ball. He'd come back and join the party. With me. With them.
Tears fill her eyes. Shit. How did she let this happen? He kept filling her glass, offering more, more of everything. She didn't want more but the cravings were too strong. Always there, clawing at her insides, begging for another and another. She could never get enough, until it was too much.
She tries to remember. It's all so clouded, she must have blacked out. She recalls his hands on her body. A wave of nausea rolls through her stomach.
"No, this is wrong," she heard her own voice say, as if it were floating above her. It was almost like was detached from her own body. She willed her limbs to move, but they were just too heavy.
She wanted him to stop but it felt so good. His fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse, lips leaving kisses on the exposed skin. The drugs heightening her senses so intensely, she was totally lost in the sensation.
Edward would be back a minute. He would make it stop, or join them, like he had so many times before.
"Never again," she vows as she takes another clumsy step towards her room. "I love Edward. Only him. Never again, with anyone but him," she whispers as the sobs pulls from her chest.
Her vision blurs and the single hallway splits into two. So many pills, so much powder. So many mistakes.
I just need to sleep. I'll fix it in the morning. Edward will fix it.
"Hey, you're Bella Swan!" A young boys cheerful voice takes her by surprise..
She nods and smiles, unable to speak. Her words would be slurred and the flood gates will open if she attempts to open her mouth.
The boy waits for her to answer, so much hope plastered across his innocent face.
She wished she hadn't fucked up so she could be the rock star girlfriend she was supposed to be. If she wasn't so fucked up she could take him to meet Edward. Surely a dream come true for this boy. But she couldn't. She was in no condition.
"Tell Edward his show was great tonight," the boy finally says, realizing she wasn't going to speak to him. She feels terrible that she can't be kinder to him.
It's never her plan on get so fucked up but they always tempt her to stay longer, have another. "Just one more," they say. Another line. One more hit. A shot glass that never seems to empty. His fans are so generous. Most of them anyway.
People are always overly nice to her when they're invited to party with the band. She's his girl. She's special. They all know it. His song is about her. "My Bella, my beauty, the girl that rock my world, " she sings off key, unable to remember the rest of the lyrics in her intoxicated state. .
She looks at her watch, squinting to make out the hands and the numbers. 4:10. a.m. or pm? She isn't sure. There are no windows in this hall. Either way, Edward's show is over. She missed it, but there will be another. He'll understand. She prays he'll understand.
The floor below her feet moves from side to side with each step, making it hard to reach her destination. She tries to hold onto the wall but it sways and buckles, just out of her reach. She falls to her knees. Shit. More bruises. More scars, inside and out.
A familiar face exits one of the rooms. Her room. Theirs. She made it, finally. Relief floods her features. Her head is so heavy, so desperate for sleep.
Jasper reaches for her, helping her to her feet. "Open the door for me Jazz," she slurs, tears pricking at her eyes, as he take in the pitiful sight of her. .
He searches for the words before he speaks. "Darlin' are you ok?
"I'm fine, just open my fucking door, Jasper," she demands, her eyes rolling back in her head, barely able to keep them open.
"How 'bout we go to my room and grab you a bottle of water and some aspirin?" He offers trying to act nonchalant but Jasper was never a very good liar. His half hearted smile tells her something just isn't right.
His eyes scream panic and pity. She stands silent in the fancy hallway of the hotel as the truth settles in her bones. She stares at the stark white door, seeing every grain of the painted wood. The man she loves is on the other side with someone. A female someone.
The ache of betrayal still burns in her gut. His and hers. Guilt rises like bile in her throat, the sting of blame all too familiar. She wants to hate him for what he did to her but she was just as much at fault. Is it worse to hate yourself or the love of your life? A full year later, she still couldn't answer that.
"Bella? Are you there?" Jasper asks from the other end of the line, the sound of his voice pulling her back to the present.
"Yeah, I'm here," she wipes the tears from her face. "I just called to, you know… say hi. So, uh… anyway, you boys take care, ok?" she fakes a smile hoping he can't hear the tears in her voice.
"You too, Bella. By the way, we really miss you around here." She can feel his warmth in every word. He truly means it.
"I miss you guys too, Jasper." Her throat closes around the lump that's formed there as she fights back a sob.
She presses the red button, disconnecting her off from a world she's no longer a part of. Cutting her off from him.
Her eyes fall down to the open drawer. She remembers the day the picture was taken so vividly. His arms so warm, his lips so demanding. They were celebrating. It was the day all his dreams came true. She had no idea that day would be the beginning of the end.
"Morning, Gorgeous," a deep voice from the doorway startles her.
She quickly closes the drawer, putting his picture away until her next moment of weakness. She can't bear to look at him while another man is standing next to her. She forces a smile, burying her pain as she has so many times before.
"Hey, Liam," she greets, her eyes reluctantly meeting his.
The tension is so thick he can taste it on the tip of his tongue. Edward can feel it grinding between his teeth with every bite he takes.
Metal utensils scraping against glass plates are the only sound from the private balcony of his hotel room. It's the first time he's seen the sun in three damn days. It's bright as fuck and making his headache even worse.
His eyes shift between Jasper and Emmett sitting across from him; neither has spoken a word all morning. Both refuse to look at him at all. If it wasn't for superstition and rituals they wouldn't be here. They always have breakfast together on the day of a show. It's bad luck to break routine. They all know it and they all give into it.
Continuing to eat in silence, all three are deep in thought. Anger brewing below the surface of each of them.
"I'm going home for a few days." Edward finally speaks.
Jasper's fork freezes mid air on the way to his mouth. He takes a deep breath before continuing to eat.
Bracing himself for the battle that's looming, Edward brings the thick crystal glass to his lips, emptying it one deep swallow. The Jameson burns its way down, temporarily soothing the ache that's always there.
"We've got shows booked for weeks." Jasper reminds him, still refusing to make eye contact.
Edward refills the glass from the bottle that's sitting in front of his plate.
"Cancel 'em. I'm leaving tonight," he shrugs, indifferent.
Jaspers drops his fork with a loud clank against the plate.
"You can't just cancel," he insists, finally looking Edward in the eye.
"Sure I can," Edward says flatly. He empties the glass again, hissing loudly from the burn of the whiskey. "People cancel shows all the time."
"Sure, for illness, or emergencies, and shit like that." Jasper looks to Emmett for help. He can feel the tension increasing. It's coming.
Emmett shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the stack of pancakes on his plate.
"I have an illness," Edward scoffs playing Jasper's game. "I'm sick and fucking tired. I'm going home," he demands, his jaw tensing under the strain of his voice. His eyes dart back and forth between Jasper and Emmett daring them to try to stop him.
"Ok, fine. Do the Rose Bowl tonight then we'll go somewhere off the radar for a few days. You can rest and be back in time for San Diego."
"Nope," He pops the p at the end of the word. "I'm going home to Forks and I'm going tonight."
"Only fuckheads cancel a show on the day of. Do you want that kind of reputation with the fans? The promoters?" Jasper's eyes bore into Edwards. "As your manager I'm telling you it's a really bad business decision." Jasper tries to reason but his anger is taking the lead.
"As the star of this little business," Edward gives Jasper a pointed look. "I'm telling you to cancel the shit. I'm leaving."
Jasper stares at him, working through his brain trying to figure out what brought on this sudden urgency to leave. It comes to him in a flash.
"You heard me on the phone with her yesterday." It's a statement not a question. Jasper raises an eyebrow daring him to lie. He looks straight at Edward's face, already knowing the answer to his question.
Jasper's accusation is enough to draw Emmett's attention as well.
The silence is suddenly deafening.
Edward fists clench, one wrapped around the fork, the other around the bottle of burning relief that calls to him. He lifts it to his lips, foregoing to the glass this time.
The pain in his chest is back. Edward prays it will kill him this time. Put him out of his misery.
"Leave her the fuck alone," Emmett's voice is low but stern. There's no mistaking it's a threat.
Edward's fist slams hard against the table.
"Stay out of it, Emmett. It's none of your fucking business," he bolts up from the chair, leaning across the table toward Emmett. He's looking for a fight.
"It is my business. That girl has been a part of our family since she was six years old. She fought her demons and beat them. I'll be damned if you're going to go fuck that up and drag her back down," Emmett accuses.
Edward's eyes become hooded with guilt before falling to the table. His mind runs wild with thoughts of her. He can imagine her struggling, fighting and winning. She is so strong, strong enough to beat the addiction. Stronger than me.
Seeing a window of opportunity, a rare vulnerability, Jasper speaks calmly. "Maybe you should consider doing the same, Edward."
Edward's eyes fly up to his. He glares at him but slowly lowers himself back down into the chair. Defeated.
"Since you're willing to cancel anyway," Jasper doesn't let up. "You can use the time to check into a rehab facility. You'll be rested and well…" Jasper attempts to reason.
"I don't have a problem," Edwards growls through clenched teeth.
Emmett jerks the bottle of Jameson from Edwards grip and slams it back down on the table.
"It's ten o'clock in the morning and you're washing down ham and eggs with fucking whiskey. You don't think that's a problem?"
"What that fuck is this? When did this become a damn intervention?"
"Just calm down, it's not an intervention. It's just… concern," Jasper tries to diffuse the situation as he always does.
"It's bullshit, that's what this is." Edward stands up again. "I'll do the show tonight and then I'm out. I'm going home."
Edward turns to leave but Emmett's hand grips Edward at the elbow stopping him.
Edward looks down at Emmett's hand and back up to his face, eye brow cocked. "Em, if you know what's good for you…" Edward threatens.
"If you know what's good for you," Emmett interrupts, his voice venomous, his grip tightening. "You will leave her alone. Brothers or not, I will take you out if you fuck her up again." Emmett releases his arm but Edward stands planted in front of him, toe to toe.
Edward chuckles, nothing but contempt in his tone before turning and disappearing back into the hotel room.
The setting sun stripped the January sky from all traces of warmth. The air was crisp, stinging her lungs with each breath. She should have driven but the church was only a few blocks away and sometimes exertion helped fight off the urges.
She kept her arms wrapped around her body holding in the warmth of the heavy coat as she determinedly made her way through town. Memories hovered over every place her eyes landed. Some good, some bad. A lifetime of laughter, sadness, joy and tears.
As she continued from one block to another, her step halted almost as her feet knew where she was before her brain caught up. She looked up at the green street sign. His street. His parents actually.
He hadn't lived here in years but the memories were still there. Her steps were slow, her eyes careful. She willed them to stay attached to the grey concrete below her feet but every so often they would stray. Each house she passed was a step closer to his.
Her breathing became labored and she realized her legs were moving faster. Running. Escaping.
Dammit, why didn't I just drive?
Tears pricked at her eyes from the bitterness. The cold air didn't help either.
She didn't need to look up to know she was there. Her heart raced telling her she was in front of the large white house. Her skin tingled. The tiny hairs on her arm standing on end. It was the same reaction she always had when she was near him.
If she didn't know better she would almost believe he was inside that house. What if… her heart begged. It wouldn't hurt to just check. Just to say hello to Esme.
"No!" she scolds herself. Keep going.
Her legs push her forward and she forces her head to stay down, her eyes trained on every crack and crevice in the sidewalk. He isn't in there. He's on tour until March. She shouldn't know this but she does.
She continues forward, the end of the property nearing faster and faster. She's almost there, moving on, surviving. If she thought she needed to go to a meeting before, she sure as hell needed one now.
"Bella?" Her name falling from his lips halted her so completely, she nearly fell forward over her own feet. Oh God, it can't be him.
"I thought that was you?" He steps through the soggy grass towards her, his long legs bringing him to her faster than she expected.
She gasped as strong familiar fingers wrapped around her shoulders. Every cell in her body reaches towards him, longing to feel him against every inch of her skin. She needs him. She craves him so desperately.
His eyes dart down the sidewalk, towards the direction she just came from? "Are you ok? Why are you running?" he asks, feeling protective as always.
His words said concern but her ears heard affection, her heart heard love and her soul, hope. But the excruciating sting, always hiding deep inside of her, squeezed tightly, telling her he didn't mean any of those things.
Standing there, paralyzed under his gaze, old demons began clawing their way to the surface. Silently, she fought them, burying them away. Months of meetings and counseling had taught her to fight her addictions. All but one.
She careful stepped back, removing her self from his grip. Her mittened fingers reached up nervously finding the pendant around her neck.
"Edward, what are you… you're here?" She asked, baffled his presence.
His perfectly angled features were as beautiful as they always were but his dazzling green eyes told her how exhausted he really was.
She could see the lingering effect of old habits in the shallow lines at the corner of his eyes.
His stare burned against her skin as he took in the complete sight of her.
"You look great, Bella," he whispers meaning every word. Seeing her here, in the flesh brings back a flood of memories. So many moments shared, here in this very spot.
The last year had been so rough on her. She was a beautiful girl but the partying, the booze, the drugs and the… other heartaches hadn't left her completely unscathed in her eyes. But he didn't see any of those things as he looked her over. All he saw was the young girl with the stunning smiling that stole his heart when she was six years old.
It had been them against the world their whole lives. How did shit get so fucked up, baby? It took every bit of self restraint he had to keep himself from scooping her up in his arms.
"How've you been," he asks, suddenly feeling like an idiot for not saying something more… meaningful.
"Good. I'm… great,' she lies. I miss you. I'm miserable without. "You?"
"I'm good," he lies as well. My life is shit without you. Since you've been gone, my world's been dark and grey.
They both smile anxiously as she gnaws away at her bottom lip and he rakes his hand through his hair nervously, each knowing.
"How long are you in town,' she asks, her words tremble, dreading his answer. I hope you're home to stay.
She didn't know what she wanted his answer to be. A week? A month? No matter the length of time, it would be more than she could bear. Forever was the only answer she wanted to hear. They both knew that wasn't and option.
With her fingers still gripped tightly around the serenity pendant, she silently repeated the words that helped her beat every other addiction.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can…
She had repeated that prayer thousands of times but it never felt as hollow and empty as it did now, while spoken in his presence. AA does wonders for drug addiction and alcoholism but it didn't do shit for her Edward Cullen addiction.
An uncomfortable silence falls between them. So much needing to be said but neither willing to start that conversation.
"So, huh, we were just heading out," Edward nods towards Jasper and Emmett avoiding her question. Her eyes shoot up the driveway towards them. They both give polite wave but their eyes fall quickly to the grass.
"Oh ,yeah, of course," she nods, nervously. "Don't let me keep you,' she smiles, forcing herself to move, trying to step around him. "I'm late actually myself so…" her eyes drop to the sidewalk, refusing to look at him as he she walks away from him, again.
"Wait," he stops her. "Do you wanna' to join us?" he asks, looking hopeful. "We're headed to O'Reilly's Pub. We're going to meet Mike and Tyler… and a few of the other guys for drinks… and some pool," his voice trails off as her face drops in disappointment.
"Uh,' nervous laughter shakes through her. "I don't… uh drink… anymore" she shakes her head, her eyes glued to her shoes.
"Oh, fuck, Bella. I'm sorry. I heard… I mean, they told me you went to, uh…" his fingers bury in his hair, pulling roughly at the long bronze strands.
"No, it's fine, Edward. I just… I should go…" she fidgets, needing to escape. The urge to run eats at her, away from him, away from the pain. Away from the urge to throw away all she has accomplished, all she's suffered, for the opportunity to go have a one drink with him. Just to be able spend more time in his presence.
"I need to go, Edward,' tears pool in her eyes no matter how hard she tries to hold them back. Do not let him see you cry. He's seen enough of that for one life time.
"I'm sorry…" he tries again to apologize but she holds up her hand, halting his words. "Where are you going anyway? It's cold out here. At least let us give you a lift,' he attempts to help make up for being such an ass.
"Thanks, but I'm just headed up the street to the church," her eyes follow the path, only another half a mile further up the street.
"Church? On a Tuesday night?" he asks confused again.
"There's a, uh… meeting there tonight," she looks up at him through her lashes, gauging his reaction.
"Oh, ok," he nods. "Oh," he repeats, his eyes wide with understanding, leaving him at a total loss for words.
"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you around then," she says to him as she waves again at Jasper and Emmett who are have give up on pretending not to listen.
Edward doesn't have a clue what the right sentiment is for this. What do you say to someone on their way to an AA meeting? Have fun? Enjoy? Break a leg? I'm a fucking idiot? The latter is the only one that feels right at the moment but he settles for a nod.
She's headed to church to talk to people about why she's an addict and he's headed off to drink her away because he's knows he's the reason. He can't help but think about how ironic it is.
"It was nice to see you, Edward," she squeaks, her voice cracking as she quickly steps around him, making her way towards the one place she can draw strength.
His feet are practically adhered to the concrete as he watches her walk away from him. Again. And just like the last time, he foolishly does nothing to stop her. He just lets her leave, allowing her to rip his heart from his chest, taking it with her out as she goes.
Deep in his soul, he knows he should be leaving with her, not watching her walk away, again. He needs her like he needs the air in his lungs. He should be willing to leave it all behind, everything, just to be with her. But just like last time, he remains still, says nothing, the words, a thick lump stuck in his throat, refusing to pass his lips.
Instead, once again, he stands silent as he just watches her go.
Loud banging pulls him towards consciousness. The room spins out of control as he opens his eyes.
"Bella," he mumbles. "Baby, go see who's at the fucking door." His tongue is thick as he tries to form his mouth around the words.
"Shh, they'll go away," a scratchy voice whispers from between his thighs. It isn't Bella.
"What the…" he jerks back. The quick movement causes the blood to rush to his head, his vision blurs, sending the room into even more of a tail spin.
"It's ok, baby. Just lay back and enjoy this. Let me do this for you, Edward," her tongue slides the length of his barely erect penis.
His arm shoots out, his palm pushing her head away from his body. He squints in the darkness, trying to focus. Trying to make out the faceless voice.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" Edward spits, trying to pull himself out from underneath her. Slowly dragging himself to the edge of the bed, he fights to push down the bile that's rising in his throat. He struggles to remain upright, his head feeling like a thousand pound boulder on his neck.
He sways, the spinning getting worse every second.
"What the fuck is going on?" he growls, lifting his heavy arms, rubbing the palms of his hands roughly into his eyes.
"It's just the ecstasy, Eddie. It's alright, just come back to bed, baby. I'll make you forget all about it,' she laughs, her long fake finger nails skimming up his bare thigh.
He musters the strength to smack her hand away, hard. "Don't fuckin' touch me," he yells. "Where's Bella?" he asked, reaching for the bedside lamp.
His eyes burn as they adjust to the bright light. Victoria.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she screams, using her long red hair to shield her eyes from the light. "I was just trying to show you a good time, Eddie," her voice is like nails on a chalk board. "C'mon, let's have some fun. Just like your precious little Bella is is with my James right now. Don't ruin our party." She licks her lips seductively as her hands slide over his bare back.
"What? Where the fuck is she?" he yells, pushing past Victoria, nearly knocking her to floor. The pounding in his head increases as he holds on to the headboard, keeping himself upright long enough to pull his pants on.
"Edward," the muffled cry from the other side of the door sends him scrambling across the room to her.
"Shit! I'm coming, baby. I'm coming."
"Guess the party's over," Victoria sneers from the bed, still undressed.
"Put your fucking clothes on," Edward yells, pointing at her in warning before leaving the bedroom.
"Oh, Edward," Bella cries, collapsing in his arms when he opens the door. Her hair is stuck to black mascara that has smeared down her rosy cheeks.
"It's ok, baby," he soothes her.
Edward peers over her head, watching Jasper, as he apologetically slides a folded bill into the hand of a hotel security guard.
Undoubtedly one of the other guests in a nearby room must have called. The headline was already being written. "Edward Cullen's longtime girlfriend, drunk and yelling in the halls at 4:00 a.m. while he's inside getting a blowjob from mysterious redhead." It definitely isn't the kind of press the band needs right now.
"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," she weeps against his chest as he struggles to keep them both upright. "Jasper, told me you had some fucking whore here and I… " Her words fall short as Victoria saunters out of the bedroom wearing nothing more than a lace thong.
"Who the fuck…?" Bella, tries to lunge at her but even in his intoxicated state, Edward holds her back. She fights against Edward's iron grip, reaching, punching and kicking at the naked woman in his hotel room.
"I'll rip out your fucking eyeballs, you fucking slut!" Bella slurs curses as Victoria feigns shock and hurt.
"Slut? Who you calling names, Sweetheart? By the looks of that bite mark on your neck, I think this might be the pot calling the kettle black." Victoria mocks, her eyes never leaving Edward as she speaks.
Edward, still holding Bella in his arms, pushes her back slightly to get a good look at her neck.
"I-I…" Bella, searches for the words. "I must have blacked out, Edward. I…" she tries to explain as more tears run down her face.
"Jasper," Edward growls, motioning with his eyes towards Victoria. With another slide of cash from Jasper's deep pocket, the hotel security promptly agrees to escort Victoria back to her own room.
Holding Victoria's clothes in his hand, Jasper flashes Bella one last heartbreaking look as he slowly closes the door behind himself. She was only a shell of the girl she once was. So full of laughter and life, all the joy faded from her warm brown eyes.
"How could you…" Edward accuses, finally letting go of her.
Shock floods her features. "Fuck you!" she screams, slapping him across the face. "This is your fault. You left me there. I hate you. I hate you so much," she screams. "I hope you rot in hell."
She is belligerent, her words running together as she stumbles around, her finger pointing in his face.
He knows she's right. Her words cut through him like a knife.
He reaches for her, reaching past her flailing arms and drags her to him, holding her tight.
"Bella, what the fuck is happening to us?" his voice cracks as he visualizes some other man being inside of her. Sure, there had been wild nights where someone ended up in their bedroom with them but… they were together, always together, but nothing like this.
"I don't know. Oh God, I just don't know," she cries. "I hate this, Edward. I just… I don't… I can't do this anymore." The sobs wrack through her thin body as her knees give out below her.
No longer able to hold her up in his intoxicated state, they both collapsed to the floor, his arms still securely wrapped around her, both sobbing, until they both drift off to sleep.
When he woke, late in the afternoon Bella had already packed her bags.
He pleaded with her to stay. She begged him to leave with her. But he refused to give it up. He was living his dream. He was a rock star, destined for fame and fortune.
"Stay with me, Bella. Please don't leave. Nothing like this will ever happen again," he promised but she couldn't do it.
Her lips crashed against his, the taste of fresh whiskey on her mouth. She kissed him long as hard for several moments, her tears silently sliding down her cheeks, dropping onto his t-shirt before she finally turned and walked away.
He stood in hallway of that hotel, watching her leave until she disappeared into the elevator.
It was the most gut wrenching moment of his life. Finality
Liam flashed a friendly smile as he pulled into her driveway.
"Thanks for the ride," she smiles back removing her seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.
"I could come in if you want," he offers, his hand resting on her knee. He hopes to get a repeat performance from last night.
"I'm actually pretty tired tonight. Maybe another time," she lies, trying to let him down easy.
Last night was a mistake, and the times before that too, all mistakes. Every time she's found herself in this situation with him, it's been the result of a weak moment that she stupidly allowed to get the best of her, nothing more.
Recovering addicts getting involved in the first year of recovery was severally frowned upon. It won't happen again.
The only reason she agreed to let him drive her home tonight was to avoid having to walk past the Cullen's house again. It was hard enough when she knew he was on the other side of the country, but knowing he was actually inside, was more than she could bear.
"Are you sure?" Liam pouts, his index finger trailing down her thigh, the disappointment flashing in his eyes. A curt nod quickly convinces him she's not in the mood.
"Ok, well, if you need me, you know where to find me," he winks making her internally cringe.
He leans across the seat to kiss her but she opens the door and slides out of the truck before he can reach her. She quickly escapes into the house, locking the door securely behind her.
"Do your meetings always run so late?" his asks, his voice startling her. Her heart stops as a high pitch squeal escapes her and she stumbles back in to the door, dropping her purse and her keys on the floor.
"What the hell, Edward? You scared me to death," she snaps, only half relieved that it's Edward in her house and not a homicidal maniac.
"Sorry," he shrugs, unapologetically, smoke rolling from between his lips. "Guess I should have called first," he answers, his eyes involuntarily falling in the direction of the window as he speaks.
"How'd you get in here?" she asks, ignoring his cold tone. She knows for a fact she locked the door when she left. Her eyes scan the room looking for broken glass or busted door jams.
"Bella," he chuckles, the scowl finally fading from his face. "There's been a spare key hidden under the mat since we were six years old," he reminds her. "I used a million times when we were teenagers," he grins, a sly smirk playing at his lips as he snubs his cigarette in the ashtray.
"Oh yeah, of course," she rolls her eyes, taking a deep breath trying to keep her thoughts from going… there.
When she finally allows herself to glance in his direction, to really look at him, he seems almost too large to be sitting in her small kitchen. His long, legs, stretched out in front of him, nearly take up the entire space.
She forces herself to look away; pretending to be nonchalant, like his presence in her house isn't setting her insides on fire. Like she isn't thinking about the countless times they had sex in this very kitchen, on that this very countertop, when Charlie wasn't home.
Edward isn't fooled. The blush of her cheeks and the tremble of her fingers when she stops to drops her keys in the bowl on said counter next to him, gives her away. Her thoughts are in the very same place as his.
"You got rid of the moose head over the fireplace,' he laughs, trying to ease her obvious discomfort. "You changed the whole house. I like it," his eyes scan the room. "Looks great… like you."
Her eyes dart straight to his, the compliment unexpected.
"I mean the house, the house looks like you… not like Charlie anymore," he shakes his head, suddenly desperate to light another cigarette.
"Thanks," she blushes again, feeling foolish for misinterpreting his words. She looks around, anywhere but at him. "I, uh… when Charlie moved in with Sue Clearwater, he gave me the house. When I left yo-… er, when I got back to Forks, I decided to make it more my home."
"You did a great job."
A long uncomfortable silence falls over the room, neither knowing where to take the conversation next.
"So, your meeting went well?" he finally asks, his face softens, genuine concern flooding his deep green eyes.
"Um, yeah. It was fine." She shouldn't feel embarrassed that he knows about her meetings, but she does. It makes her feel weak under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Good… good. That's really great, Bella," he tries to make small talk but more important questions are eating at him. He shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat.
"Why didn't you invite your boyfriend in?" he asks flatly, pointing out the window towards the driveway. He doesn't take his eyes off of her. He's searching her face for the truth.
Her eyes grow wide in realization. He must have been watching her the whole time. "Not that's it's any of your business but he isn't my boyfriend," she retorts, irritated that he has the nerve to ask.
"Who is the fuck is he then?" he pries, standing up, taking a long step towards her.
For a moment, her mind goes blank. She doesn't know how to answer him. What is she supposed to say, he's the poor sucker that tries to fill the void you left in my heart. She would never admit that to him.
The silence between them speaks louder than words.
"Why are you here, Edward?" she finally blurts out, unable to endure another moment of dancing around whatever it is he came here for.
"I came to talk to you," he answers, honestly.
"I don't mean here, in my house. I mean here, in Forks. Why are you here?" To her own ears it almost sounds like she was begging. For what, she isn't sure. For answers? For him to leave? Or to stay? She honestly doesn't know.
"I told you, I need to talk to you," he answers again, his eye narrow, firmly holding hers.
"Why? What the hell do we have to talk about?" she asks, her arms crossing over chest.
He's taken aback by her terse tone.
"I don't know… I just… " He drops his head, debating how much he should he admit to her? "I need to apologize, Bella."
She can see the guilt written all over his beautiful face.
"You have nothing to apologize for." It's not said for his benefit to make him feel better, she truly means it. Months of counseling and AA have taught her to take responsibility for her own actions.
"Bella, I should have protected you. It was my job to keep you safe. I'm so sorry that I…," he pauses, the pain and remorse building in his chest, causing his voice crack. "That I ever let another man put their hands on you…" he says through gritted teeth, his fists balled at his sides.
She holds her hand up, shaking her head. "Stop, please just… I can't…" her resolve breaks and the tears slip over the edge of her lashes. It's a time in her life she never wants to relive.
"I don't know how it got so out of control, baby,' his hands pull at his messy copper hair. "It just happened so fast, I didn't know how to stop it. God, Bella, I'm so sorry," he hesitantly steps towards her, arms open to hug her but she steps back, avoiding the contact.
His arms drop, defeated, at his sides.
"It wasn't your fault," she whispers. "It was just too much too fast. It was everything we always dreamed of. Everything we always wanted… with a never ending supply of… all of it," she laughs without a trace of humor in her voice.
Edward nods, agreeing. "But it's my job to protect you, Bella," he takes another step towards her, closing the gap between them.
"Edward, I honestly don't blame you for the past," she tries to make him understand. "We both made choices that lead to… the things that happened."
"I need you, Bella. I need you back," his admission catching her off guard.
"W-what?" she stutters, sure she must have misunderstood. She wasn't expecting him to say that.
"I know we can fix us, Baby." His smooth voice sounds so convincing to her ears.
Her heart immediately tells her to say yes, but her head swiftly steps in, telling her it's not possible. She can't live in his world, not anymore. She fought too hard to heal, physically and emotionally.
"Edward…" she cries, the tears falling faster now.
"Bella," he growls, cutting her off. "I can't keep doing this without you. I need you," he hisses through his teeth, stepping closer to her. "I love you, dammit. I've loved you since we were fucking kids," he moves even closer, their bodies only inches apart.
His words slowly break away at the wall that she's built around herself over the last year. She wills herself to step back, to push him away, but the want is too great. He's standing too close. She can feel his warm breath fanning across her face. Her body feels almost electrified as he close the distance between, but he's still careful not to touch her.
She closes her eyes remembering everything. She remembers the way his rough hands felt against the sensitive areas of her skin, the tenderness of his lips on hers, the warmth of his tongue trailing to places that made her shatter into a million pieces. She remembers it all. She wants to feel it all again, now but the pain is holds her back, stopping her from falling into his arms.
"Why now?" she whimpers. "It's been so long. A whole year has passed with hardly a word and all of a suddenly now you need me?"
Her tone reveals the bitterness she's harbored for all these months. A wide range of emotion sweeps through her, fear, want, need, pain, all at once, overwhelming her.
"I was trying to give you space, give what you wanted but it's not right. You're supposed to be there with me, living this dream together, Bella. You're a part this, a part of me," he tries to explain. "Me and you against the world, baby," he stressed every word, trying to make her remember.
It's a statement they had said to each other over and over since they were kids. His words did jog her mind, making her remember all the times that it felt just like that. Him and her against every obstacle, every problem life could throw at them, always overcoming.
His close proximity was pulling at other memories as well. Moments between them that still send tingles through her core, even after all this time. The air in the room is coming alive, buzzing around them, charged with need.
"I can't, Edward,' she cries, trying to stand her ground, refusing to give him the answer she really wants to give. "I can't go back. I can't live that life anymore…" she steps back, wiping the tears from her face, trying to be strong.
"Bella, just hear me out," he growls, desperate to make her understand. His hands reach out, grasping her shoulders, pulling her back to him. Her breath hitches in her chest as the sensation of his touch travels through her body.
"We belong together. I'll give it up, walk away from all of it."
Her head snaps up to find him intently staring down at her. So close. Their lips less than an inch apart.
Her heart races, she can't believe what he's offering. "Edward, you can't…" she barely gets the words out.
"It means nothing without you. I don't want it if you're not a part of it," he whispers, his sweet breath washing over her face.
"You can't just throw away…" she tries again.
"Tell me you don't love me," he commands, daring her to deny it.
"Edward, please…" she shakes her head, refusing to answer.
"Tell me, dammit," he roars. "Tell me you don't love me, that you don't want me, and I'll go. I'll leave right fucking now," he snaps.
"I-I…" she sobs unable to answer. She's never been able to lie to him.
His mouth crashes down on hers, unwilling to stay away from her for one more second. She freezes in his arms, it's not like the kisses she remembers. His mouth is forceful and needy.
For a brief moment, the pain she has suffered for so many months boils up, telling her to stop this before it gets too far. Don't let this happen. It's going to hurt even more when he leaves. He will leave.
He feels the hesitation in her lips but he refuses to stop. He needs her to admit that she still wants him. Admit to him. Admit it to herself.
When he feels her start to pull away, he tightens his grip around her hips, holding her in place. I'm not letting you go. Not this time.
His strong arms wrap around her small frame, pulling her body against his. When she finally relaxes, giving him into him, a tiny moan escapes her lips. He silently swears to be by her side until the day he dies.
He deepens the kiss tasting the sweetness of her mouth. It's exactly as he remembers. Their lips mold together perfectly as if they weren't made to fit against each other.
Her hands slowly slide up his stomach to his chest, tightly gripping his shirt as her tongue meets his. Completely succumbing to her need for him, she casts aside all of her pain, basking in this moment.
His hands become frantic, feeling, searching, remembering every part of her. They move up her back, gripping around her neck before sliding into her long, soft hair. The strands fall between in fingers releasing the strawberry scent that he's loved since he was six year old.
"I miss you, Bella," he whispers against her lips before tilting her head back to leave soft kisses on her neck.
"I miss you too, Edward," she whimpers. "I miss you so much." Tears continue to spill down cheeks.
Holding her face between his hands, he stares into her eyes. "I'll never be away from you again. I can't live without you. I won't," he promises, kissing her again. Her response, a mumbled moan, lost in his lips.
Needing to be closer, his hands fall her shoulders and slide down her sides to her hips. He tugs her towards him, her body completely flush with his. She can feel him, hard and aroused against her stomach, a new flood of emotions filling her.
A quiet moan escapes her lips inviting him to keep going. Strong demanding hands find their way across the curve of her lower back, down to her ass. Both palms full of her round flesh, he squeezes firmly, pressing himself against her.
Just as needy, she runs her hands across the ripples of the muscles on his back but it isn't enough. She needs to feel him, all of him. She slides her hands under the hem of his shirt, trailing her fingernails up his back. He practically melts under her touch.
His greedy mouth lowers back to her neck, kissing, and licking the soft skin, then making his way across her soft breast, kissing her through her thin blouse.
"God, it's been too long, baby. I need see you,' he breathes against the thin fabric.
Hesitantly, he reaches for the hem of her shirt his hands resting there, allowing her time to stop him but she doesn't. She lifts her arms over her head giving him the permission he seeks. She needs this just as much as he does.
Tossing her shirt on the floor, his fingers quickly begin pulling back the cups of her black lace bra. He's desperate to see her, to taste her and she's all too willing too help him get what he wants.
Reaching behind her back, she unhooks her bra, allowing it to fall between them.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he moans against the hollow between her breasts. Kissing his way from one breast to the other, his tongue darts out licking and teasing her swollen nipples.
"Oh, god, Edward," she cries, arching her back, pressing her chest against his face, needing more.
With both of his strong hands wrapped tightly around each breast, he massages, fingers teasing, until he sucks her nipple into his mouth, biting down gently.
Her arms, laced around his neck, tighten each time his teeth bite down on the sensitive swollen areas.
"Edward… I… oh god," she mumbles and moans.
"Tell me," he demands against her skin. "Tell me you need me."
Her hips rock into his, silently trying to convey what he wants her to say. "Please,' she cries against his neck. She does need him. She needs him so badly but doesn't want to admit it. To him or to herself.
His arms dropping to her sides, his hands quickly slide around her ass picking her up. Her legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing her a bit more friction exactly where she wants it.
"Tell me, Bella" he insists, leaving a trail of warm kisses across her shoulder.
"Edward," she moans, her head falling back allowing him to kiss down her chest.
His lips continue to lick and nip as he walks into the kitchen, sitting her down on the countertop. Sliding her ass to the ledge, he grips her thighs, flexing his hips, grinding his dick against her center.
"You're going to have to tell me, Bella?" he says, a devilish smirk pulling at his swollen lips.
His head drops and his tongue, warm and wet, slowly trails from her cleavage to her navel. Moving from side to side, he places kisses along to waistband of her jeans. She leans back as far as she can, resting on her arms.
"Say it," he teases, unbuttoning her jeans and slowly lowering the zipper, he drags his fingertip back and forth across the black silk of her panties, he waits for her to say the words.
Her breathing is labored and her heart is erratic. Deep down she knows she should stop him. There's so much to talk about. This isn't going to fix it all or solve their problems. But when his mouth meets the bare skin between her naval and her panties, it's all forgotten again.
Edward's hands, trapped between her ass and the counter lifts her hips towards his face, his breath warms the triangle still covered by black silk. His tongue slips under the elastic band tasting, so close but still so far.
Pulling gently on her jeans he exposes more of her beautiful body. She aches to feel him against her, on her, in her. His pace is painfully slow.
"Please, Edward," she begs, her hips arching up, begging for more. The slow torture was more than she could stand after waiting an entire year for him.
"Say it," he demands through clenched teeth, his green eyes, dark with lust.
Her legs fall open to him, her hips again press forward one more time. Her body is telling him everything he wants to know.
"Dammit, Bella. Say it. Out loud," he roars, sending a rush of electricity through the center of her body leaving her wet and moaning.
"Fuck, I want you, Edward. Please, I need you. I need you, now. I fucking need you," she cries out, giving into him.
With a satisfied smirk, he jerks her jeans down her legs, her shoes falling to the floor as well, tangled in the denim.
He pulls her panties down roughly the sound of the threads giving way under his grip.
Completely vulnerable and exposed, he appraises every inch of her, admiring her beauty. He will worship her until the day he dies. Never again would he spend another night without her in his arms.
He softly slides his fingertips across her breasts and down her stomach causing the skin under his touch to pucker into a sea of goose bumps. When his fingers reach the area between her hips, he brings them together all the way down to her folds.
His index finger slowly slides between them, teasing and rubbing her clit, eliciting her body to give in to the arousal. Obeying him completely, as it always had, she feels herself become moist under his touch.
"Edward, more… please," she moans, her hips bucking against his hand.
Answering her plea, he pressed one and then two fingers into her opening moving slowly at first. He watches her, her lips parted, her breaths escaping faster, knowing she's teetering.
"Oh god, Edward, don't stop," she begs through panted breaths.
His eyes intently watch her through his lashes as he lowers his head and dips his tongue against her clit. His fingers know the exact speed to move and the precise place to press inside of her body, while his tongue knows exactly how to tease. His tongue swirls and sucks, pulling her closer and closer over the edge.
"Oh my god, Edward," she pleads, burying her fingers into his thick hair. She squirms and bucks under his mouth, pulling his face deeper into her as the heat spreads through her center, white fire erupting through her entire body.
Edward presses in deeper, his tongue delving inside of her, tasting every last bit as she rides out her release against his mouth.
Slipping her fingers from his hair, her hands slide gently around to his face, pulling back up to her. He kisses her hard, the taste of her arousal still on his lips.
"I love you,' she cries, pulling back to look at him.
"I've always loved you. I never stopped, baby," he reassures.
Pulling off his shirt, he tosses it down and picks her up off the counter. He softly lowers her until her feet touch the floor.
"You're my world, Bella," I can't be without you for another second.
He pulls her close to him, feeling her warm skin against his bare chest. Reaching up, he holds her face between his hands and kisses her lips, trying to express every emotion he felt at that moment.
Releasing her lips from his, he pulls her tight, his arms crushing tightly around her. "I love you so much," he whispers in her ear.
"Don't ever let me go, please?" she begs, burying her face against his neck, her hands wandering to the broad space between his shoulders.
"Never," he agrees.
His hips press against hers, needing to feel every part of her body against his. The buttons of his jeans rubbing against her sensitive center causes a moan to pull from her chest, his dick throbbing in response.
Her deep brown eyes stay completely focused on his as she finds the buttons of his jeans and slowly releases them one by one. Patiently waiting, letting her take her time, his fingers skim the length of arms. Her skins is so soft, so addicting, he can't stop touching her.
She tugs on his jeans and boxers, sliding them over his hips until they fall down over his thighs. While fighting to get out of his boots, her small hand is already wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking him from top to bottom.
A deep moan rumbles his chest as he's finally able to kick his jeans away and focus on the fact that Bella is touching him, again, after all these long months. He's finally with her, touching her, smelling her, kissing her, hearing her tell him that she loves him and needs him. He didn't think this day would ever come but now that it's here, he'll never take it for granted ever again.
Bella slowly drops to her knees, looking up at him through long lashes as she licks her lips. Just watching her sweep her tongue across those beautiful full lips was almost enough to make him come.
Feeling her warm mouth slide over the head of his dick, practically knocks the wind from his lungs. "Fuck," he growls, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "God, Bella, that feels so good."
He looks down watching her take in as much of him as she can, her hand stroking the rest of his cock. A flash of guilt flooded over him. How the fuck could he allow anyone but her, the woman he loves, to ever be this close to him. Never again, he swears.
But as amazing as her mouth feels, he needs to be closer, needs all of her. Gently placing his hands on both sides of her face, he pulls her back, releasing himself from her mouth.
Worry fills her eyes, she has no idea he was stopping her. But when he lowers himself down onto his knees she understands. He places a soft kiss on her lips before pulling her down next to him on the thick kitchen rug.
He rolls onto his back, pulling her against his chest. "I need you, Bella. All of you," he explains, pulling her leg over his waist until she is straddling him, his hard cock, leaking and ready, between them.
"Sit up baby," he instructs. "I want to see you." Immediately obliging, she sits up, her thighs spread across his. Her long brown her flows across her milky white shoulders, and across her bare breasts. He takes in the sight of her, astonished that this beautiful woman chose him all those years ago.
Lifting her by her hips, he positions her above his dick and slowly lowers her down. She takes her time, allowing her body to stretch around the size of him. They both groan in pleasure at the sensation. It's been so long.
Edward holds onto her hips tightly, not allowing her to move. He's already close to exploding. If she moves an inch he won't be able to stop himself.
Finally, after fighting to push down his arousal, he begins to gently pull her back and forth on top of him, setting a slow steady pace.
Moving her body in sync with the sway of his hips, she allows her eyes to memorize every part of him. His jaw, clenched tight, trying to ward off the orgasm that's building too quickly. She hold onto his broad shoulders, muscular and toned from years in the gym.
Her fingers skim across his chest, over his hardened nipples and down the black ink that spreads across the left side of his chest. Her fingers trail the letters of her name, permanently engraved, she prays, inside and out.
His hips roll against her, his abs muscles tightening and releasing with every sway of her body against his. But the slow pace becomes too torturous. She needs more. She holds onto his thighs and pulls herself down, pressing him deeper inside her.
"Oh, fuck,' he moans, pulling her down again and again to reach the same amazing depth.
She rocks against his cock, her own arousal rising with every move. She leans back slightly, resting her hands lower on legs until he's positioned exactly where she needs him. She's almost there. Back and forth, rolling her hips, she is coming undone.
"Oh yeah, give it to me baby," he begs.
"Oh god, yes,' she cries, her body tensing and releasing all over again. She rides it out and practically collapses on his chest, completely spent.
"So fucking perfect," he breathes into her hair before turning her over on her back.
He wastes no time sliding back into her, pumping his hips quickly to find his own release. His eyes are glued to hers the entire time. He doesn't look away, not even for a moment. His eyebrows pull together, his muscles tighten up and down his body and she knows he's getting close.
He rocks against her, deeper and deeper with each thrust. She lifts her legs, wrapping them around him, opening herself for him. Holding onto this back, her fingernails dig into his skin as his thrusts get harder and faster.
"Oh, yeah," he pants, his breathes become more labored as his whole body tenses and he spills his release inside of her.
His eyes finally squeeze closed as his hands pull her tighter against him. Relaxing, his head falling to her chest.
"Baby, don't ever leave me again," he asks, his lips brushing against her skin.
"I promise, I won't," she agrees. "But it can't be like before."
He rises up to look into her eyes. "It won't be, baby. I promise. Whatever you want, however you want. As long as you're there, I don't care about anything else."
"I have a few conditions," she says, gauging his reaction.
He rolls off of her, squeezing his body closely next to her on the rug.
"Ok," he agrees. "I told you, whatever you want."
"No parties. No alcohol. No drugs. At all," she insists.
He pushes her hair behind her ears, his finger tracing her cheekbone. "Done."
"And no girls, Edward," she looks up, searching his eyes for the answer.
"You're the only woman I ever want, Bella. I promise."
"Ok, and one more thing," she chews on her bottom lip, worried that he won't agree.
"Anything, you name it. I'll give you anything, Bella," he says, sincerely.
"We find a meeting to attend in every city."
He is quite for several second before answering.
"Ok, I can do that," he says but she can hear the hesitation in his voice. "On one condition," he continues.
She gives him a pointed look letting him know it's not negotiable but he looks away from her. He reaches behind him pulling his pants next to him.
Well, I guess this was too good to be true. I knew it. She sits up, wrapping her arms around her bare chest as tears well up in her eyes. She knew it. He isn't willing to do it. She knew it was too much to ask of him.
"Look, Edward, I love you but if you can't-" she starts but he cuts her off.
"If I agree to meetings, will you agree to this?" he asks, his voice unsteady to her ears.
She turns her head in time to see him open the small black box, a large sparkling diamond glaring back at her.
She gasps, her hands clasping over her mouth.
"I told you, Bella, I never want to spend another day away from you. I will give you whatever you want. I'll walk away from all of it, go to ten AA meetings a day, whatever the fuck you want me to do, as long as you agree to be wife,' he asks, praying she'll say yes.
"Edward, I… we've been apart for an entire year," she rationalizes.
"I'm not saying you have to marry me tomorrow, but someday. Someday after we work out all the shit, go to counseling, meetings, anything it takes to make you mine forever," he explains.
Tears roll down her cheeks as she stares in his eyes. He's sincere, she has no doubt, she can see the honesty in his eyes. She's been in love with this man since he was just a boy. She always known she would marry him someday. She didn't think he'd be proposing a year after they broke up… naked and lying on a cold kitchen floor but would he be Edward if he did it any other way?
"Me and you against the world?" she repeats his words from earlier.
"Me and you, baby," he nods.
She stares at him, more tears streaming down her face. "Ok, Edward. Yes, I'll marry you… someday."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Posting these things are so nerve wracking. Please leave me some feedback. I need a good cry. LOL! Just kidding, be nice.