There was this moment Bella and I stared at each other for longer than what was, at the time, appropriate.
I couldn't help myself.
It was during an event we worked at the downtown Hilton almost four years ago. She was in the hotel kitchen speaking with the chef, and I needed to ask her something, though what that something was I don't recall.
What I do remember is when I entered the kitchen her back was to me. I leaned against the wall and watched her knowing all along that I shouldn't.
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she spoke. She put her hands on her hips and nodded a couple of times. She laughed along with the chef. This rich, sincere laugh she does that makes people turn their heads just to get a glimpse of the face that belongs to that incredible sound.
That's how it is for me, anyway.
They shook hands, and then she turned. Bella didn't see me at first and I didn't try to get her attention because I wasn't ready to break out of that little bubble I'd created just yet.
But then she saw me.
Bella didn't smile and neither did I, but something flickered in her eyes. We stared at each other, unblinking, unmoving, and during that flash of an instant that felt pretty close to a lifetime I wanted but never thought I'd have, I'd come to realize that I was in deep, deep trouble.
She shared a secret with me, told me without saying a word that she felt the same way I did. Relief and need and want flooded me, but there was nothing I could do about it. To even think about having an affair was…I couldn't.
Bella broke the connection first, and it was like a weight on my chest because I didn't want to go back to reality.
For the longest time I pretended it didn't exist. That moment, our connection. I made excuses and tried to delude myself it wasn't real, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stay away from her.
I've been in love with Bella Swan for close to six years, and now I'm finally able to show her and be with her in every way humanly possible.
We waited, and it was a struggle, many times painful, but in the end I'm glad we did. The anticipation up until now nearly destroyed me, especially not saying anything to her earlier this evening. But as I watch her glance around our hotel room, discovering the candles, trailing her finger on the bottle of champagne, smelling the flowers and then looking at me in a way that is meant for me and no one else, it was so, so worth it.
The things I arranged are inconsequential really, but I wanted her to know that she is not. I'm going to take my time, kiss every inch of her skin, savor every touch and taste because we only get one first time.
I take the two steps I need to stand in front of her, hold her face in my hands, suck in her lip, taste her tongue. She tells me she loves me and I say it back as she slides my jacket off my shoulders, down my arms, and we let it drop to the floor.
We shed our clothes, I walk her back to the bed, but I stop her because I want to see all of her. Her cheeks fill with pink, and I tell her she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, because she is.
"Don't hide," I say, taking her hands away from her breasts, and she's trembling. Bella breathes out a nervous breath, and I kiss her. "You're perfect," I say. And maybe it's too much, and maybe she thinks I'm only saying these things because these are things that people say, but I'm not. "I mean it, Bella."
Bella glances down, bites her cheek to keep from smiling, and I laugh under her scrutiny. Okay, I get it. So I close the space between us.
"You're so warm," she says, and we're kissing again and move back onto the bed.
There's a rhythm inside my chest that beats so fast I wonder if I might explode.
She's under me—it's where I want her to be. I want to watch her face when I'm inside her, see her hair fanned out around her face, have total control over her reactions when I slide down her body to taste all of her.
Tomorrow, later, an hour from now we'll do different things. I'll make her scream my name. I have no doubt every surface in this room will be used in one way or another, but for now I want her to just feel me.
She's still trembling. "Are you cold?"
"No," she says with a smile. She drags her foot up the back of my leg, and tries to still herself, like she needs to reassure me.
I move her hand to my chest. "Feel that?" I ask then kiss her lips, her cheeks, and her forehead.
Bella hooks her other leg around mine, lifts her hips; I could be inside her now. She's warm, her coarse hair rubs against my stomach, and it's with every ounce of restraint I have that I don't shift up, press the tip of my cock against her, push all the way inside her.
I want to. I want to.
I frame her face with my hands, feel her nipples, her breasts against my chest. I want to pull her closer to me. I need to wrap myself around her, need her to wrap herself around me. Fuck, I'm so hard.
I kiss her, move my mouth to her chin, slide down, push myself up. I kiss her neck, she tickles the back of my neck with her fingers, lightly scratches my back and tightens her legs around my waist. Bella tries to bring me back down, and I falter for just a second.
I shake my head and kiss her shoulder, her collar bone, slide down to her breast. Every dip and curve is mine. Her stomach, her sides, her hips. I sit up, hold her ankle, kiss her there. Then her calf, the inside of her knee and then move on to her other leg.
I watch her chest rise and fall. I ache because I need her. I won't last long.
I place her legs back down, she raises her knees, opens up for me, and I position myself between her thighs. I look up at her. She's watching me. Bella smiles this smile and I want to forget about being slow, forget taking my time. I want to fuck her.
I grip her thighs, glide my nose down the inside, lick and suck her skin.
She moans. It's lazy and nearly as sexy as her watching my every move. I stroke myself, and then I taste her.
Her hands are in my hair, her head thrown back. She's slick. I suck, circle my tongue, suck again, dig my fingers into her hips.
Fuck. This girl.
"Edward," she breathes out.
Say my name again.
I hum against her. "Edward," she says, almost begging, and I feel her legs tighten, her foot digging into my back. She grips my hair, pulls me closer—not yet—and I blow a light stream of air against her. She bucks, I smile, make my way back on top of her.
Bella wipes her thumb across my bottom lip, rakes her teeth over hers—she's going to kill me. I suck in her thumb, push into her at the same time until nothing separates us. As deep as I can, as close to her as I can be and we make this sound, like neither of us expected it to feel so fucking good.
That rhythm inside my chest builds again.
She's mine she's mine she's mine.
We're arms and legs, lips and tongues, finding this perfect cadence with every thrust and roll. I take her hands, hold them above her head, look at her eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful," I say, and she stretches her neck up to kiss me.
Bella tells me to go faster, so I do because I can't keep this slow pace any longer. She moves her hands down, scratches my back, and grips my shoulders. She makes the sweetest sounds I've ever heard when she says my name as she comes and finally, finally I do too.
Every thing about this girl is everything I've ever wanted, and I tell her. I brush her hair back from her face which shines a little from sweat, and she tells me she wants to take care of me until she's 105. We promise a lot of things to each other, some ridiculous but most aren't. She tells me she loves me, and I tell her she better.
Five days before Christmas we were hit with the worst snowstorm in decades. It trumped Snowmageddan from a couple years back, and everything was shut down. Needless to say, Garrett didn't go to Vegas and Bella and I didn't go to the Caribbean. Bella never mentioned it, but I think she was relieved. To be honest, I didn't mind because spending Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with Bella and Garrett was pretty fantastic.
Mrs. Whitlock said the boat was ours whenever we wanted, which is a good thing because I'm planning to take her up on that offer in a few months.
In January, Garrett turned eleven. Bella and I surprised him with a new bike which he couldn't ride until February after the second snowstorm was cleared from the streets.
In March, I went to visit Bella's parents, Charlie and Renee. The next day I talked to Garrett.
By the end of our conversation, which started out awkward and scary as hell, he asked if he could help pick out a ring.
The next day I got down on one knee and asked Bella to marry me.
She said yes.
4 years later
"Just around the block?" Garrett asks, dumping the bucket of water down the driveway.
"You don't have your permit," I say. Garrett throws his head back and groans, and I laugh.
"Please?" he says. "I'll drive slowly."
I spin the keys to the Mustang around my finger. "Like how slow? If you're going to drive as slow as your mom does, then no way."
"Excuse me?" Bella says, coming out of the house with our daughter in tow. Elizabeth's almost two and the spitting image of Bella with a head full of brown hair and huge brown eyes. She pats Sparrow on her head then climbs down the porch step before running over to me, and Felix paws at the screen door. "I'm responsible. There's a difference."
Garrett and I roll our eyes at each other, and I bend over to pick up Elizabeth. "Mommy drives like a grandma, doesn't she?" I say. She laughs and says no.
"You do…but," Garrett says, turning to me. "I'm responsible, too."
"I know," I say, tossing him the keys. "We'll go once around, or a couple of times until she sees you behind the wheel." He smiles, though his cheeks are bright red.
"Who?" Bella whispers.
I kiss Elizabeth on her cheek and hand her to Bella as Garrett climbs in the driver's seat. "I'll tell you later." Elizabeth squirms in Bella's arms, reaching back for me. "Daddy will be right back, okay?"
It's surreal, like I suddenly woke up to this life of being a husband and father. It shocks me and thrills me in this inexplicably perfect way that I don't know how it's possible to love my family more than I do.
Sometimes I worry that if I blink it all would have been just a dream.
But it's not.
What Bella and I have, whether it's arguing over something stupid or experiencing the most mind-blowing sex ever, it doesn't matter, because in the end what we have together is totally and completely untouchable.
A/N: Thank you SO much for reading, reccing, reviewing, adding this little fic to your lists. It's been a lot of fun writing, and I hope it's been fun for you, too. See you soon, hopefully.
all my best,