Chapter Two

Good morning, Beautiful. Can’t wait 2 c u. -E

I smile against my pillow as I check the screen for Edward’s message. He sent it early... like way early. I bet he’s a morning person. Bright smiles and five-mile runs. I wouldn’t be surprised.

We made plans last night to meet for breakfast, and after the crazy-ass day I had yesterday with Edward, I was wondering what today’s events had in store for me. How would he act around me? Would we talk about our little tryst through text message that led me to act so freaking out of character that I would get myself off in a public place with someone I had never even met? How about our moment last night at the bar? Would he be expecting the same kind of action from me today?

Oh, God. Maybe he thought I was a slut.

Maybe he was happy about that. What if I’m not what he was expecting? How will I explain that what he experienced from me is not me at all?

Suddenly, this morning’s breakfast is making me more nervous than excited.

I try to put those thoughts on the back burner while I drag myself out of bed and head towards the bathroom for a warm shower. That doesn’t help though. All it does is make me hyper aware to my horniness, my thoughts returning to how he made me feel when he kissed me and held me. The strength of his hands and his erection pressed up against me. The memory makes me shiver, my hand trailing down my  shoulder blades to the valley between my breasts. Before I get too carried away, I snap my hand away, willing myself to regain control of the situation. Horny Bella, bad. Focussed Bella, good.

When I finished dressing and fixing myself up, I sent him a text message.

On my way! What’s the address? -B

As I made my way downstairs and hailed a cab, he responded with the address, and off I went to either meet my fate, or my doom...Who the hell knows.

The diner is homey and inviting, and as soon as I shake out of my coat and scarf I see him. It’s really hard not to notice him. All tall, lean, broad-shouldered. His bronze hair-- the hair I want to run my fingers through and pull.

And his eyes.

The turquoise phenomena that are now raking up and down my body. His lips pulled into that lopsided grin I had the pleasure of seeing when he sent them to me via text.

He rises to greet me like the gentleman he is and I mentally slap myself. Who am I kidding? Me? Resist this? I’d probably disrobe and lay myself out right here on a table like a Bella Buffet and let him have his way with me if he asked.

And I’d enjoy it.

But right now was not the time to entertain sexual fantasies. I promised myself this would be a chance to start clean, get to know each other. Without sex.

God help me, I want sex.

STOP. IT.

All this ridiculous inner monologue is reeking havoc on my stomach as I walk towards Edward and into his awaiting arms. He kisses my forehead as he embraces me. His clean, soapy scent does something to me, and I just melt against him. He’s warm. Deliciously warm.

“Hello there,” he mumbles against my ear. The vibrations from his voice sending danger signals down my girlie party. 

“Hi. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Nah. Just a few minutes. I ordered you some coffee. That’s okay, right? Shit, now that I think about it, you might not even drink coffee. Damn... I’m sorry. I could order you something else...”

Fuck me, he’s cute when he’s nervous. it makes me giggle.

“It’s okay. Yeah, I drink coffee. Thanks for being so thoughtful.” I see him visibly relax as we take our seats opposite each other in the booth.

“So, what are these crazy pancakes you’re talking about? Bring ‘em on,” I say. It’s enough to break the awkwardness of a few moments ago, and he smiles, his eyes gleaming.

“They’re amazing. They’re pretty big though, so you might have to share or take some home.”

“I’ll share with you if you’re ordering the same.”

“Great.” He smiles as our eyes lock.

Conversation treads lightly on small talk for the most part. Neither of us wants to be the first to address the giant, sparkly elephant in the room. It’s not until halfway through the destruction of the giant pancake tower that Edward works up the nerve to say something.

“So, about yesterday...”

“Yes. About yesterday.”

“Was yesterday... did you... do you regret it?” He asks warily.

“Do you?” Damn. Why is it so hard to talk about this?

He looks at me dead on. “Not one bit.” After a beat, I nod slowly in thought; my fork scraping the plate for syrup.

“Neither do I.”

Edward reaches out his hands to release the fork from my own, gently clasping it within his large... very large hands.

“I want to get to know you, Bella. I’d like to know where this can go, if you’re game,” he confesses, his blue-green stare rendering me speechless... again.

“I don’t expect what happened yesterday and last night to be the norm. It’s pretty far from my normal behavior, and I certainly have never done anything so forward in my life. I’m pretty much the opposite. But every time I’m with you or get a text from you, something happens to me, and I can’t get a hold of my wanting you.” He lets out a shaky breath, seemingly relieved to have shared his thoughts with me.

I still want to have sex with him. 

Like, a lot of it.

And soon.

“I’d like that, actually. On the way over here, all I could think about is what you might expect from me. What happened yesterday isn’t me either. Well, not really. I’ve never done anything even close to that. But it’s kind of weird, isn’t it? All this? I mean, out of all the phone numbers you could’ve mistyped, you stumble upon mine? That’s some serious study on Fate or whatever.” 

We both laugh lightly. “Totally. I’ve never been a big believer in that fate stuff. Not until yesterday,” he says pointedly, locking eyes with me with such an intensity, I think I’m turning into goo while we speak. 

“Yeah, well, how about we not over-think this and just go with the flow?” I ask nervously, gauging Edward’s reaction.

A sweet smile grows upon his lips. “I’d like that.”

I nod silently in agreement, our hands still joined as our waitress drops off our check.

We spend the morning at a nearby park just talking and getting to know each other. He just keeps getting better and better the more we talk, and I know he’s something special. At another time, I would’ve scoffed at his words, believing he was just trying to get into my pants. But there’s a sincerity in his eyes that I can’t dismiss. I want to believe him. The two sides of my brain are warring against the other. 

Maybe I just needs to lighten up. I might be reading too much into this. So what if he just wants to fool around a bit? What if his words are just words? Would I allow myself to make more of it than it might be? 

I decide right then on that park bench, as I listen to Edward talk about his near-perfect parents, that I’ll take it for what it is. It’s out of my cautious character, but I’ll enjoy my time with him. I’ll play, fuck, and when it’s over, move on.

`~`~`MT`~`~`

After that pivotal morning, Edward and I agree to see each other or at least, text each other, as often as we can. We’re both busy with our own lives. Edward has several design deadlines to meet by the end of the week. I too have a couple of pending projects at the firm that need my total attention, so we successfully manage to keep a clear head about things between us. 

That’s not to say that I don’t think about him. And by “think about him” I mean a few erotic dreams and maybe a couple of sessions with my rabbit. 

A girl has needs, you know.

We do keep our promise to text each other, though. At the beginning, they’re pretty tame and polite. But as it seems to be with us, things turn more heated rather quickly. 

I’m not complaining.

Hey, beautiful. Just wanted 2 tell u I’m thinking of u ;) -E

I love it when he calls me that. I read his message as I sit in a small conference room, flanked by several junior designers and Alice, who’s already glaring at me suspiciously. I wink. She shakes her head and smirks, turning her attention back to the front of the room.

I’m thinking about u 2. When do I get 2 c u again? -B

That doesn’t sound too desperate, does it?

I’m wondering the same thing. How about 2nite? -E

I cringe. It’s a co-worker’s birthday, and we’re getting some drinks after work. Damn it.

Can’t :( drinks after work 4 a bday & I have 2 b up early next day. How about 2morrow nite? -B

:( Can’t. Dinner w/parental units. How about Wed? -E

I quickly check my phone’s calendar, noticing nothing of importance, and quickly reply with a grin.

Yes. Where? -B

Let me cook you dinner? My place? -E

I bite my lower lip as me knee bounces up and down nervously. Just the thought of being in the same room with him-- his room, his place, cooking dinner for me, sends a flash of heat through me. 

Alice notices and stills my knee with her hand. 

“Settle down, slut,” she leans towards me to whisper, not taking her eyes off our presenter. I turn to her to see her subtle grin. 

I playfully kick her under the table. She looks like she pursing her lips to withhold a laugh.

Sounds very nice. What should I bring? -B

Nothing but your gorgeous self. Where r u right now? -E

In a boring meeting. U? -B

Same. I’d rather be w/u. -E

I smile.

I’d rather b w/u 2. -B

I’d rather feel your fingers through my hair -E

Goosebumps. I get goosebumps with this man.

I look around to see if anyone’s watching me, and I’m happy when I see people either listening to the speaker, or busy on their own phones. Even Alice seems preoccupied sending someone a text of her own. 

I’d rather feel ur arms around me. -B

I’d rather b kissing u. -E

I’d rather feel your lips on me. -B

Is it hot in here?

Where? -E

Sweet Jesus.

U tell me. -B

Fuck. Everywhere. Under ur ear, ur collarbone, ur juicy lips, ur neck, ur breasts, ur stomach...where else do u want them baby? -E

Shit. Why does he have this effect on me? I squirming in my seat and Alice notices. She silently turns towards me, narrowing her eyes in mock irritation. 

I stick my tongue out at her and type away.

What r u doing 2 me? I have a place in mind and just the thought is making me hot & ppl r starting 2 notice. Continue this later? -B

I hate to stop where this line of conversation is going, but there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to feign attention during this stupid meeting if I tell him I want his mouth on me, down there. I might explode.

Yeah. Same here. Not listening 2 them. at. all. I might need 2 think of puppies & old ladies in bikinis 2 calm down. Later then ;) -E

I’m so worked up by the end of the meeting just thinking about “later” I say my goodbyes to Alice and decide to duck out of work after lunch to have some time to relax before going out for drinks with work people.

The night proves to be boring, save for sitting with Alice and secretly making fun of several co-workers and their drunken states. My mind continues to return to Edward and his texts to me this afternoon. Sooner rather than later, I’m home and in bed, phone in hand. I feel like a hormonal 14-year-old as I text him.

Hey there, stranger. R U up? -B

A response a minute later makes me giddy.

Do u want the clean or pervy answer 2 that 1? -E

God, how does he do that? Im already hot and bothered.

Ha! If I’m trying 2 b good, then we better stick 2 the clean. -B

Aw. Ur no fun ;)...no, that’s a lie...ur a lot of fun. -E

Another message comes in soon after his last one.

I’m still interested in knowing where else u’d like my mouth though. -E

My thighs clench involuntarily. If this is what he does to me with mere words on a screen, there’s no hope for me or my sanity once we’re together in person.

A few hot and descriptive messages later, he offers to call me. I decide against it. Any phone call from him, listening to his sexy voice describing what he’d do to me, would render me useless. I need to keep my wits about me, so I say goodnight instead, promising more messages until we meet.

`~`~`MT`~`~`

The next couple of days pass in a similar fashion. We both go one with our daily routines, which now include a mix of sweet and benign and  hot and heavy text messaging. I’m so high strung by Wednesday I wonder if I’m even going to make it through our plans before going back to his place.

Yes. Plans had changed somewhat from when he spoke of making me dinner. I kind of chickened out because I suck and I’m a wuss. Being the daughter of a chief of police had thrown all kinds of red flags about going to the home of a man I hardly know. I had called Edward to work out new plans and much to my surprise he already had a change of plans of his own. A friend of his was performing in an Off-Broadway play and gave him a couple of tickets. I had told him I’d meet him at the theater. We’d grab a bite after the show. Who knows about afterwards? I would leave my options open.

As I walk towards the theater’s entrance, I can already make out his form. He’s tall, dressed in dark pants and wrapped in a sexy-as-shit long wool trench coat, collar up, as he scrunches his shoulders to shield his head from the cold. And almost as if he merely feels my presence, he turns towards me and smiles widely, eyes perusing up and down my body.

I return the smile when we’re only inches apart before he wraps his arms around me in a strong embrace. He exhales against my scarf-covered neck, but I can still feel the heat of it through the material. My arms wrap around his neck and revel in the comforting hold he has on me. He groans against me.

“I’m so happy to see you. You look beautiful,” he says against my ear. It sends shivers down my spine... in a very good way.

“Me too, and so do you.”

Really? That’s what you say to him, B?

“Handsome, I mean. You look very handsome.”

He awards me a knowing smirk before gently kissing me. It starts gently, his warm lips against mine. But there’s a quiet intensity behind it. As he breaks the kiss, a tiny bit of his well-controlled restraint escapes when he lightly bites and pulls at my lower lip.

I gasp, my hands clawing at his collar before taking a much needed step back. His eyes are smoldering. Yes, I used the word smoldering. Yes, I know I sound like a romance novel. No, I don’t give a shit. His eyes smolder. It’s a fact.

He takes my hand and leads us through the lobby to our seats. The show is an interesting mix of performance art and and interpretive dance. I rarely enjoy these types of shows, but I’m too busy focussing all my sense on Edward to give a crap.

In the darkened theater, there are wandering hands on fingers, knees and thighs. There are lips on necks, ears, faces, jaws and finally lips. We’re almost all-out making out like teenagers when the house lights flip on, signaling the end of the show. We didn’t even notice. And when we wait for his friend, the star of the show, to make his way to the front entrance where we’re waiting for him, we lie and express how much we enjoyed the show.

Edward and I are starving, so we walk a couple blocks down to a small diner and eat burgers and milkshakes. The conversation is easy, and there are never any awkward moments. We both work in the creative field, so even discussing our jobs is entertaining. We have a lot in common. 

We spend the next hour just talking about our families. How I grew up in a small little town outside Seattle with an over-protective father. He explains how his parents are still happily married and still living in his childhood home in Chicago. I find it amazing how we could go from being so hot for each other to discussing normal, everyday subjects in a blink of an eye.

By the end of dinner, however, the innuendo and flirting are back in full force. We walk along a nearby park, stopping every few steps to make out. I can feel the need from both of us and I know neither of us wants to say goodbye. I think he’s afraid of mentioning the possibility of sharing a cab to his place, so I put my big girl panties on make my move.

“I don’t want to go home,” I whisper before biting and sucking on his earlobe. His arms tighten around me, and he takes a shuddering breath. 

“Do you want to go to my place?” He says as he pulls away to eye me warily, but with desire in his eyes.

Here goes.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Okay,” he replies, pulling away and practically dragging me by the hand to hail a cab. I’m already giggling and more than a little horny by the time we sit in the car. In a flash he nuzzles my neck with hot, wet, kisses. And Jebus, I might moan embarrassingly loud if I don’t get a hold of myself.

We’re at the front steps of his place twenty minutes later. It’s a great little brownstone on the Upper East Side. The space is unpretentious, with muted colors and a huge, comfy bed in the bedroom, which we waste no time in visiting. We’re already half naked by the time the backs of my legs hit the mattress. 

It’s the first time I have the chance to see his body up close and personal. And holy hell, it’s not a dissapointment. He’s lean, and sculpted in a way that’s not over the top. His skin is smooth and the light smattering of chest hair and the delicious trail leading to what I want to see the most makes me want to run my tongue all over him. 

He seems to be pretty impressed too, judging by the torpedo he’s pushing against my stomach at the moment. When he sees my midnight blue, lacy bra, it looks like he wants to kneel and worship them, which I have no issue with, because it means his mouth will be pretty close to where I currently want some attention.

He must have super mind-reading abilities because he presses his mouth in between my legs and his hot breath through my panties nearly kills me as my legs give way and I fall unceremoniously on his bed. 

Without missing a beat, however, Edward is hovering over me, kissing and licking every inch of me, paying special attention to my breasts and nipples. When his tongue flicks one of them my hands reach to tangle themselves in his magic hair. My tugging and pulling makes him groan against my skin, which has me bucking my hips to find some kind of friction. Anything. I’ll take anything.

“Oh, please...” I whine, as his lips tongue trail from my stomach to the line of my panties, dragging his lips torturously slow along its path. His fingers pull my panties down slowly and when I kick them off his mouth wastes no time in sending me into orbit. 

His mouth.

There are no words. So I don’t speak.

I let out unitelligible sounds, mewls and gasps that seem to spur him on even more. His hands tighten around my ass, kneading and pushing me towards him even more. When I can feel myself teetering towards the edge, one of his hands lets go of my cheek and I feel his deft fingers glide along my wetness while his tongue continues to swirl over every place I want him. One finger, then two, finally enter me and it takes only a few moments before I’m moaning loudly like a whore and grabbing at his hair, pushing him into me even more.

What. The. Fuck.

Where has this man been all my life?

I don’t have much time to ponder that before his body is pressed up against mine, his cock hard and at my entrance while he nuzzles my neck. I hear him grab something out of a drawer at his nightstand and seconds later the rip of the foil. Once he’s ready to go, my arms reach out to pull him towards me and he’s right there. But he doesn’t move. Instead, he pulls away and looks at me questioningly.

“You’re okay? Are you sure about this? This doesn’t have to happen tonight.” He breathes.

“I’m better than okay. I want this.” I nod and pull him towards me again, kissing him. He finally enters me and holy moly, it’s good.

We both gasp and stay still before he slowly starts to move. Before I know it, we’ve established a good rythym and I meet his every thrust. My legs wrap around him as I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations. All too soon, I feel the tightness form down below. He must feel it too, because his rough moan against my shoulder echoes through the room, as his movements accelerate. His hard body against me creates awesome fucking friction against my clit and my second orgasm of the evening rips through my body, making me yell his name over and over. He’s not too far behind as a couple of spastic thrusts makes him lose control and follow me over the edge.

Our heavy breathing is all I can hear, and when he touches his forehead to mine, our eyes meet and we smile lazily. He rolls over to his back, quickly pulling me to his chest. 

“Wow.” He roughly exhales.

“Yeah. Wow.” Brilliant, Bella.

We lay there in silence for a bit, my body contoured against his. I could stay here forever. But, my body has other plans. I slowly move away from his warmth to pad my way to his bathroom for a human minute. Before I stand to go, his hand gently wraps around my wrist. I turn to look over my shoulder, and he pouting.

Pouting.

Fucking adorable.

“Where are you going?” His voice is groggy and rough. His eyes reflect alarm. He must think I’m going to leave and go home. Poor thing.

“I’m just going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” I say softly, and caress his face when he lets go. His eyes clothes when he visibly relaxes and leans against my hand.

“Okay then.”

I wash up and spare a glance at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is an utter mess, but I look thoroughly fucked which is fine by me. I think back at his hesitation, the questioning, apprehensive look in his eyes before entering me. It’s sweet, really. 

Did we go too fast? Did we give in too soon? Convention would say “hell, yes you did!” I should feel totally mortified at my behavior, of not wanting to slow things down. But strangely, I don’t. I feel free. And it felt right.

But then I wonder if he sees it the same way. Suddenly, I’m a little scared that when I go  back in there, he’ll be fully dressed, telling me how this was all a big mistake and how he wants nothing more to do with me.

I take a deep breath. “Bella, it’s now or never,” I tell myself as I stare at my reflection.

Time to deal with the consequences. If he still wants me, then great. I’m game. If he tells me it’s over before it began, I’ll accept it like a big girl and move on. No harm done.

This is, of course, a bold-face lie. I’m scared shitless.

When I open the door slowly and peak out into the darkness, I can only see a sliver of light leaking from the curtains. It baths the bed in a soft streak of white across the sheets and onto his covered form. As my eyes adjust to the darkness my eyes rest on his face.

He’s sleeping. 

I quietly slip under the covers again, careful not to rouse Sleeping Beauty. I think I’m pretty successful, but just before I snuggle on my side, his heavy arms slings over me, his warm pam pushing my body flush against him, his chest to my back.

His mouths finds its place below my ear; his steady, sleepy breathing lulling me to sleep, but not before he speaks.

“This is not the end, you know. I’m not letting you go.”

That’s all the confirmation I need. I smile to myself.

“I know,” I reply before drifting off to sleep.

`~`~`MT`~`~`

I’m up pretty early the next morning. I have to go to work, and I’m in Edward’s place. I need a shower and a change of clothes. He understands and doesn’t out too much.

We promise each other to text throughout the day and make plans for the weekend. He kisses me hard against the door before I finally leave and make it back to my apartment in record time.

The work day drags on, but I’m pretty busy so I don’t notice that Edward hasn’t really sent me any texts.  When I finally have a moment to myself I decide to send him one.

Still thinking of last night. Can’t wait 2 c u again ;) -B

There. That should get his attention.

Five minutes pass. Then twenty. Then three hours.

Nothing. Hmmm.

Have I rendered you useless today? ;) -B

Again, nothing.

I finish off my work day and head home hoping to just relax and hopefully contact Edward, who still hasn’t responded or called. So I call him as soon as I’m in my sweats and tank top.

I get his voicemail. At the beep I leave a message for him to call me.

He doesn’t.

Not that night. Not the next day either. I ask Rose and Alice if they’ve heard from him through their new boy toys, and just as puzzled as I am. 

Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s been mugged, his phone jacked in the process. Maybe he’s had some type of emergency. Maybe...

Oh no.

Maybe this is the brushoff. Maybe everything he said to me was complete bullshit to get me into bed, and like a fucking amateur, I caved. What if he’s changed his mind and wants nothing to do with me?

Alice listens to me while I spew out all my concerns in the breakroom on Friday afternoon. I’m convinced he’s done with me. Alice isn’t so sure. 

“Maybe you should just show up at his place?”

“What, like so crazy co-dependent stalker? I can’t do that.” That’s not me.

“Well, how else are you going to know? So maybe you just want closure. Let him tell you to your face like a big boy. Then you can goodbye, turn around and move on. I don’t think that’s stalking. And if something actually did happen to him and he couldn’t get to the phone, then you’ll know and you won’t be racking your brain trying to figure out what happened?”

She may have a point, although I’m still not comfortable with the idea of showing up to his house unannounced. I decide to do it, but give him a heads up.

Saturday afternoon, I decide text him before going.

Hey, I’m really worried. I haven’t heard from you. I’m on my way to your place. If you don’t want to c me, let me know and I’ll stay away. -B

If he reads it and is just avoiding me, it will give him incentive to just text me back and tell me to go away.

I take the subway and get off at the stop a few blocks from his place. I hesitate before moving to cross the street. Am I doing the right thing? I told him I was coming, so I’m not trying to stalk him, but I can’t shake the bad feeling I’m getting when I finally get to his side of the street. I steel myself anyway. I’m here, so why turn back?

I should always learn to trust my instincts. That bad feeling I was getting? Yeah, pretty dead on.

As I near his place, his door opens. I stop abruptly and my breath hitches. I’m frozen as a tall, leggy red-head exits. I scramble to hide suddenly. Okay, now I feel like a stalker. But I don’t want to come face to face with the reason he’s ignoring me, if she’s the reason.

I hide behind his neighbor’s steps, watching as the painfully gorgeous woman, dressed impeccably, turns around to face the open door again. I see Edward suddenly appear on the threshold, I can’t see his face too clearly, but what I see next basically seals the deal for me.

The woman raises her gloved hand and grabs his neck, pushing her lips against his.

I’ve seen enough. I swiftly turn the opposite direction, not bothering to look back.

Damn, stupid Bella. I’m too smart to believe in fairy tales.