Worth Waiting For

I'm in the back room when I hear a knock on the glass door at the front of the shop. I'm waiting for Rose to pick me up, but I know she would use her key.

The lights are already off, and the sign is turned. We're clearly closed, have been for 45 minutes, so why would anyone be knocking?

I decide to ignore it, but just as quickly change my mind. Rose is coming to pick me up - will be here any second, I'm sure - and even though I'm a little creeped out, I don't want her alone out there with whoever it is when she does come.

Which is exactly why when I hear the knock a second time, I rush out of the back and through the darkened shop, all the while trying to keep the horror movie images from taking over my brain. Because Rose and I watched one last night that really freaked me out, but as far as I know, we don't have any mask-wearing-hook-handed psychopaths roaming the streets of our quiet town looking to kill the police chief's daughter in a clothing boutique.

At least I hope.

And even if we do, he isn't here. And probably wouldn't knock anyway...

Because the knock came from the beautiful, crooked-smiling brother of my girlfriend, who, when I unlock the door for him, starts laughing as he grabs from my hand the stapler I now realize I was holding as a weapon.

"I swear I grabbed scissors... "

"They would have been more effective than a stapler."

"Yeah, well then it's a good thing it's just you and not a mask-wearing-hook-handed psychopath waiting for me to let him in so he could kill me."

"It definitely is."

"Definitely. But why is it?"

"Why is it better or why is it me? Because the first-"

"The second. Why is it you?" Not that I'm disappointed...

"Because Rose sent me."

But now I am a little pissed. "To pick me up."

"Yes."

"Again."

"Yes. Again."

"Did she say why?"

"You mean why she couldn't?"

"Yeah."

"No. Just that she was held up and you were waiting."

Held up, my ass... She's with that little bitch, Alice. "Well, I'm getting really tired of always waiting around for her while she's held up."

"You should tell her that."

"I'm telling you."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I am." And he knows what that means. Because he's been waiting for me to for a long time.

And now he reaches behind him and turns the lock on the door, then takes a step forward. "You know, I've been waiting a long time for you to tell me that."

See? "Well, I have now, so... "

"So... now I'm going to say thank you for telling me. And show you why you shouldn't have waited so long to."

He drops the stapler where he stands and steps forward again, until his body is flush with mine, and then grabs my face in his hands. He licks his lips and I think he's going to kiss me - and want him to - but he only smiles and takes another step, which means so do I, a step back, and with.

He continues walking us, our bodies still touching, my face still in his hands, and my eyes his, because the want I see in them makes me trust him and I don't need to see where I'm going. Wherever he's leading me, I'll go. Because I want to. He's not the only one who's been waiting. And Rose isn't the only person I've waited for.

I've wanted Edward Cullen since the first time I saw him. The first night Rose took me home to meet her family. He stared at me from across the table all through dinner. Every time I looked up, his piercing green eyes were on me. And they were hungry. Hungrier even than Rose's were the day she walked uninvited into my dressing room in her boutique and dropped straight to her knees, pulling my panties down and replacing them with her mouth. I stood there stunned - for about three seconds - and then I grabbed her long golden hair in my hands and fucked her beautiful face until my legs gave out. We've been together ever since.

And Rose's hunger for me is no less after a year, but I'm not the only one she's hungry for, even though she says I'm the only one she loves. She's never admitted to being unfaithful to me, and swears she never has been, but I know different.

And that it's exactly what she's doing now. And what she kept me waiting for her for, in her shop, for 45 fucking minutes.

"Stop thinking about her, Bella," Edward commands as my back hits the sales counter.

"Make me," I challenge, not doubting that he can.

His mouth crashes into mine, dominant and hungry, and his hands on my face grow possessive. "I'll make you forget she ever existed," he declares as he breaks away, his frantic kiss becoming a fierce and meaningful promise against my lips.

And then they're off. His promise and his mouth that made it... moving down my neck. And his hands... unbuttoning my blouse, pulling it down my arms and dropping it to the floor at our feet, before lifting me off of mine.

I want to wrap my legs around him, but my slim pencil skirt doesn't allow me the movement. And then my movement is his, and I find myself flat on my back on a large table filled with soft, folded cashmere sweaters with Edward gazing down at me.

My chest heaves in anticipation as his fingers move over my neck and shoulders and down my arms, pulling the straps of my bra with them until my breasts are exposed and at full attention for him. He bends over me and swirls his tongue around my hardened nipple before pulling it into his warm, wet mouth and sliding his hands under me to unhook the clasp.

I whimper as he tosses it aside and his hands return to me, gripping my waist firmly as his mouth reaches my other breast. I arch in his hands and they squeeze me hard and then move beneath me to the zipper of my skirt. He slides it down slowly, and then my skirt, inching it down my legs that ache to wrap around him and learn and memorize the feel of him finally between them.

And wrap around him is exactly what they do as soon as they're free, my hands reaching for the button of his jeans at the same time. But he grabs them both, and pries them from around him and on him and takes a few steps back.

"No. It's not the way I want to make you forget. Not yet. Not first."

"Not first?" I repeat the words, a question I know the answer to as soon as his eyes meet the bare mound of want that lies between my parted and in-his-hands legs.

"Fuck." The single word flows from his mouth and instantly makes me squirm with need.

And my own mouth explain, "I don't like thongs... but I don't like panty lines, either... "

"So you just didn't wear any."

"No. Not today."

"So, you're ready. Already. For first."

"I'm ready for you. And whatever you're going to do to me. First."

"Do you know what that is, Bella?"

Yes... "No. You should tell me."

"From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted to know what you tasted like. If my parents hadn't have been sitting at that table that first night, I would have had you laid open on top of it and made you forget who you came with."

"Well, they're not at this table, so... " My words trail off as he lowers his smiling mouth to my skin, and his tongue courses its own down my stomach, not stopping until he reaches the taste he's waited so long for.

Each moan that escapes my mouth is met with a deeper one against my dripping-for-him flesh, as strong hands grip mercilessly to my thighs, holding me in place while I writhe and squirm beneath him.

My head is swimming with every lick and flick and swirl of his skilled and doting tongue, my hands trying and failing repeatedly to find purchase on my makeshift bed of cashmere. It flies in all directions in a rainbow of colors, much like the stars I see exploding behind my eyelids.

"Look at me, Bella," he orders, gripping my desperately flailing hands in his. "Watch me. And know whose mouth is making you feel so good."

"I know, Edward... " I gasp, doing what he told me to and looking down through heavy lids to watch him feast on me. "Fuck... I know exactly whose it is. I know it's yours."

His hands grip mine tighter and his mouth keeps its promise of making me forget. I don't remember where I've been for the last year, or the ones before it, but I know where I want to be for the next, and maybe forever, and it's right here. With this man and his talented fucking mouth, that I suddenly have the urge to taunt.

"So, how is that?" I ask boldly between pleasure-filled gasps, though his deep, contented moans are clear indicators. "Worth waiting for?"

He sucks my clit into his mouth - his answer, apparently - with a low growl that bounces deliciously off of all of the right places and... put a fork in me, because I am fucking done.

Edward, on the other hand... is not. And my eyes are too glazed to see clearly, and my brain is too dazed to think straight, but my ears are fully aware of the sounds surrounding us... heavy breathing - me, a low, sexy chuckle - him, and the metal along metal of a zipper being unned - which totally, and completely belongs to...

"Oh... fuuuuuuuck!" … HIM. A lot of him. Now. In me. "Edward... "

"Yes, Bella?"

"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me!"

"Does it feel like I'm kidding you, Bella?"

"No... fuck... no... And don't fucking stop not. Ever... Please... Fuck!... "

"You said that already," he chuckles, pulling me farther down the table, and thrusting even deeper inside of me, which... seriously... How is that even possible? "Several times already, actually."

"Shut up and fuck me, Edward."

He laughs harder, and thrusts harder, but his relentless mouth knows no bounds tonight. "I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop, and even then, I'll only stop so I can take you home - to mine - and fuck you again. And again. And again. And again.

"And then tomorrow morning, when you wake up in my bed, where you belong, sore and exhausted - and having no doubts why you are, and who made you, and that you want me to, again, and again, and again - I'm going to make love to you, with my mouth, again, until you're not anymore, because to finally answer your question, if I didn't already make it clear, you taste like fucking heaven - and because by then you'll know you do. Belong. With me. Who's suffered and waited far too long... but would never make you. For anything."

He's wrong... because I already know. About the where I belong part. And the what I want part. But I don't tell him that. Don't correct him. Don't dare. Because I don't want to. I like his plan. It works for me. Even though it may kill me... it works. And he works. Hard. And wants to keep working. Me. And for me.

"Fuuuuck... Yes!... " He works so fucking hard for me...

Until I ignite. And explode. Again.

And then into a fit of delirium-induced giggles. Him-induced.

That are met with others. Two others. Giggling mouths. That are coming through the door, while I lie shattered and spent on a table where no more cashmere touches it or my skin. And then the giggles stop. All except for mine...

Because no more cashmere touches it or my skin. Because I fucked it. All of it. Her cashmere. While he fucked me. Her brother. Fucked me. Her girlfriend who isn't anymore. In his sister's shop.

And I know she's pissed. As she stands there gaping. But probably most about the cashmere. And second about me beating her to it. Because I know she brought that no-longer giggling either little bitch in here to fuck her in her shop. Where I worked all day, before I got worked... by her brother she sent to take me home so she could come here and work something... after she made me wait.

She thought we'd be long gone. And I am... but not the way she wanted.

Not the way she ever would have imagined. Or ever could...

She's still just standing there, gaping and speechless, so I get my giggles under control - though it's hard with Edward smug and smirking the way he is. He's all put back together, and put away - for now - and helps me down from the table, then picks up my skirt from the cashmere-blanketed floor and drops to his knees with a chuckle while I grab him by the hair and step into it.

"Thank you, Edward." I smile at his snicker as he stands, pulling my zipper up with his ascent. "Do you remember where we were when I lost my blouse?"

"I could never forget," he says, serious and sexy, as he walks to retrieve it from the floor in front of the counter.

He's back with it just as I find my bra in the mess at my never-unheeled feet, which he takes from my hand and drapes around his neck. "There's no point in putting it back on, I'll just take it right back off of you when we get home."

"Good, time-efficient thinking," I say, sliding my arms into my blouse that he holds open for me.

"Well, we've wasted more than enough," he says back, buttoning me in with a crooked smile on his face.

"Both of you can just get fucked!" Rose yells, finally breaking her silence.

"We did," we both say at once. "And now you are," Edward adds, "because I'm taking her out of here so we can again. Until the world ends."

"She won't stay with you!" she yells again. "She'll come back to me begging!"

We look at each other and laugh, and once again speak as one as we join hands and walk out the door, "Wait for that, Rose."

We're in Edward's car before I realize I don't have my purse. "Shit. I left my bag in the back room. I have to go back-"

"No, Bella. I'll go. Because you... are never going back."

"You're right. I'm not. Ever."

"Wait for me?" he asks with a sexy raise of his brow.

"Happily," I giggle, because I am. So happy...

"I promise I won't be long."

"Of course you won't. Because you know what's waiting for you is worth rushing back for."

He smiles and does... rushes from the car and back into the shop, locking me in before he goes, and my heart beats with anticipation for his return.

Because my whole life just changed. Our whole lives...

Because I finally stopped waiting...

For the wrong beautiful Cullen.

And I squeal as I reach over quickly and pop the lock on Edward's door...

Because the right one has already come back to me.

And he looks hungry.

Again.

Soooo worth waiting for...

Just a reminder... that I forgot to mention up top... Twilight isn't mine. Neither are Bella, Edward, Rosalie, or Alice. Those all belong to Stephenie.