A/N: I owe a very large "thank you" to Emibella, whose story, If It's the Beaches, had a scene that sparked something in here. I'll never forget the day someone told me I had to go read the chapter of hers, and they were right – smokin' hot. Chapter 7. UNG. And yes, for you nervous ladies, I did ask her permission before using the concept here. :)

Thank you to Squalloogal, for buying me at FGB. This is her last piece, and I am so grateful that she trusted me and allowed me to write for her.

Thank you to TwilightMundi, my beta. ILY.

More notes later.

All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

~o~

I give him my biggest, best smile, because I am so happy right now, I could burst. I never imagined feeling this again. Somehow, Edward has woken feelings I was certain I'd just never feel, never experience, never soak in again. I'm not quite sure how to repay him, but I've got a few methods in mind to try...

I spend the drive home thinking, wondering how I can be in so deep already. The more I think about it, the more I realize I've always been like this, though. I've always given so much of myself so quickly, and the thought startles and sobers me.

Even before I can control it, I feel my walls starting to shift a little higher. I've been in some lust-induced stupor, I decide, letting this man so close to my heart already. My mind and heart war through the drive, and I realize I'm home, having driven on auto-pilot apparently.

Rose and I go inside and spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying the house. I call Alice at some point to gossip and catch up with her. A glamour-filled life I lead.

When it's closer to bedtime, I make sure Rose showers and gets her hair washed. These last few months she's begun to insist that she's a big girl and doesn't want to take baths anymore. Too damn bad for me, because it was at least twenty minutes of quiet time I could count on. The only positive was that I got to reclaim my tub. In our small house, there was only one decent tub; now that there aren't any tub toys in there anymore, I briefly contemplate a long soak once Rose is in bed.

The thought doesn't last, though, as Rose is tearing through the living room, a naked ball of energy. Inside, I'm screaming and frustrated. Having mastered the Zen art of calm-under-fire parenting, I use my best Disney Princess singsong voice.

"Rosie, hon, let's go get your pajamas on, okay?"

"I don't wanna go to bed, Mom," she says, lapping me again as I stand in place. "Will you read with me?"

"Yes, I'll read with you, if you agree to lights out bedtime after thirty minutes."

"Deal," she shouts, tearing off in the direction of her room.

Grabbing my cell phone, I follow close behind. I can multi-task and only feel marginally guilty, I decide. I text Edward.

Whatcha doin? :)

Tucking Rose in, I snuggle beside her, above the covers. She's re-reading a book that's worn and frayed at the edges, but one of her favorites. Smiling, I check my phone. Technically, I'm reading texts, right?

Trying to wrangle Em.

God, I still can't imagine that he does this every minute, every day, every week, all alone. I guess he has Esme and Carlisle, but still. My chest constricts as I realize that he's been alone, really and truly alone, just as long as I have.

I hear bribery works; it's what we're doing here. Reading time before bed, some time to settle down?

I might as well take a chance, right? Maybe he doesn't know this trick. I know Emmett loves to read as much as Rose, because they're constantly talking about books. And science. They're adorably nerdy, and so compatible when they stop being such assholes to each other.

My phone stays still and silent on my chest as I read, and I begin to worry I've overstepped my bounds with Edward. Finally, reading time is over and it's lights out for kiddo, post toothbrushing and one last potty trip. I hug and kiss her, tucking the blankets around her, and remind her that it's not time to ask for more water, or another story, or a dog, or... anything.

"Just sleep, baby. I'll see you in the morning," I beg.

"Mom, what's a DILF?"

What the mother fuck?

"What?" I ask, needing to make sure I heard her correctly.

"I heard you on the phone with Auntie Alice. You called Mr. Cullen a DILF. What's a DILF?"

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I'm forced to think on my feet, never a good thing.

"A..." I'm searching my brain for words that will fit... "Oh, a DILF is a dad I'd like to be friends with."

The smug smile overtakes my face and I'm feeling pretty proud of myself as I close the door and implore her to sleep.

Tiptoeing back to the living room, I fall onto the couch. It's old, but comfortable, and I wrap myself in the throw there. Suddenly, Edward's scent assaults me and I'm reminded of making out with him. Giggling, I wrap myself up in it, and close my eyes.

The slight vibration of my phone, still in my hand apparently, wakes me. It's dark and I stretch first, deciding to walk to my actual bed before I look to see what's waiting for me, my paranoia still rampant. If Edward's going to tell me to back the fuck off, better to be snuggled into bed.

Can you talk? Em is finally asleep.

Instead of texting him back, I dial. Well, no one dials anymore – I punch in his name and press send.

"Hey." His voice is soft, but scratchy. Undeniably sexy.

"Hey." Mine, on the other hand, is so fucking lame. What am I, twelve?

"Some nights, I really think he's never going to go to sleep," he says. I glance at the clock and am stunned to see it's past ten.

"He just NOW went to bed?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah. Did I wake you? You sound tired."

"It was a long day. I mean, I had this sexy man all to myself for part of the day, but the rest was utter shit."

"Sorry to hear that. Anything in particular?" he asks.

"Motherhood," I quip.

"I can relate," he says with a little laugh. "Busy tomorrow?"

Humming, I try to recall my schedule. It's not so easy this late, this tired.

"I don't think we're too busy." I drop my voice, trying to be sexy. "You have something in mind, stud?"

"Ugh, don't tease, baby."

Hey, it worked?

"I'd never tease. I always follow through, it just may be awhile..."

His sigh is loud and I almost have to move the phone from my ear.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to be too big of a tease."

"It's okay, it's just … It's been a long time since I've felt this way. I just had to shut that side of myself off all these years, you know?"

Hell yes, I know.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. It's like the moment they're born, the entire world shifts, good and bad."

I can almost see him nodding.

"Exactly. And after Tanya-" He pauses, and everything is utterly still and quiet. "After Tanya left, everything fell to me. Esme and Carlisle help, but at the end of the day, I'm Dad."

"I can't even imagine, Edward."

Suddenly, an awkward silence overtakes our call. We've run the gambit of topics and now we're sort of stuck on this one, neither of us really knowing how to navigate our way out of the potential emo stretching out in front of us.

"Sorry," he says softly. "I didn't mean to drag the conversation down."

"Hey," I scold, my voice slightly tight. "This is your life. I want this part, too."

Even as the words escape my mouth, I realize they're true. I want Edward, good and bad.

Awkward silence returns, and I realize we never settled our plans for tomorrow.

"It's supposed to dump snow tonight," I say. "Wanna go sledding tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'd really like that."

I can hear his smile, and it makes me glad to know that he's not getting sucked down into a spiral of depression over the reminder of Tanya.

"Alright, old man, I gotta get some sleep. What time do you want to go?"

"How about you come over here in the morning, say ten? We can sled in the backyard and then have cocoa and lunch."

I'm a sucker for cocoa.

"With marshmallows?" I ask.

This is like, almost a deal breaker for me.

"Pshaw. What kind of a host would invite someone over for cocoa with no marshmallows?"

Whew.

"Good. See you at ten. Goodnight, Edward."

"Night, Bella."

I plug my phone in, get under the covers, and promptly do not go to sleep. My brain is racing with thoughts of Edward, and Edward with Tanya. After I've tossed and turned enough to be twisted in the sheets and blankets, I get up for water. I'm being so stupid, and even I know it, but I decide that the root of my issue is just a lack of knowledge. Once I know more about her, I'll be able to rest easier.

Right?

Crawling back into bed, I close my eyes and imagine what she might've looked like. I feminize Emmett's face, then add it onto a smokin' body. Fuck. The temptation to compare us is huge, and I resort to a few meditation breathing methods I've learned over the years to try and calm my mind.

Rose curls up in bed with me at some hour, the sun not having risen in the sky yet. I fell asleep before setting my alarm because I figured Demonseed Hellbeast (yes, I've mentally stolen the nickname for her) would wake me bright and early. As I begin to wake and stir, I realize it's not as early as I'd hoped. Then I look at the clock. Great. We've both slept so late that we'll have to rush now.

Filling Rose in on our plans for the day, she gives me a scrunched-eyebrow look, hands on her hips.

"We're going to Emmett's house?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"To sled?"

"Uh huh."

I'm frantically buzzing around her room, trying to find her ski bib, snow boots, and all the fucking winter clothes I hate. When I glance up, I see Rose still looking at me with that skeptical expression.

"What?!" I shout, frustrated.

"Simmer, Mom."

She walks away, and I collapse onto the floor, a fit of giggles overtaking my stressed body. Five minutes later, I'm composed and back in Momzilla mode. Everyone is dressed and ready, or as ready as we can be, and we're in the car. I've texted Edward to let him know we'll be slightly late, and he tells me to drive safely and take my time. Sure enough, as predicted, there's an assload of fresh snow outside.

The drive to Edward's reminds me of our difference in income and lifestyle, and I just have to laugh. We finally pull into his drive, and when Emmett answers the door, he's a little snippy.

"Finally!"

"Hello, Emmett. It's nice to see you again, too," I say.

Rose grabs his hand and drags him away before she's even got her coat off, shedding her clothes like snakeskin, forming a path to his room, or, well... wherever they're off to.

"My dad is such a freak. He was all in a panic this morning trying to find marshmallows," Emmett half-whispers as they leave reasonable eavesdropping distance.

This detail does not escape me, and I smile. Edward's been frantic, searching for marshmallows, for me. Just as the birds are chirping in my head, he slides behind me. Too bad I have nine hundred layers of clothes on, I can't even feel the warmth from his body.

"Good morning," he says.

"It is now," I say, all of the words coming out as a sigh.

I am so fucking gone for this guy.

"I can't even get to your neck with all this insane gear on. It's not the Tundra, Bella," he teases.

"It's so cold! How can you stand it?"

I'm serious; if it wasn't for James, I'd have moved somewhere warmer by now.

"Well," he says, taking my hand. "It does lend itself nicely to roaring fires and cocoa?" he suggests.

"Aw man, but the cocoa is for after," I whine.

"Why, Bella Swan, are you implying something?"

Oh my god, he bats his fucking eyelashes like a chick, and I can't help the barking laugh.

"After sledding, you slut. But admit it, you wish it was more..."

Please, please admit it.

"You're fucking right about that," he says, leaning in to kiss me.

The bluebirds are back, probably nesting in my damn hair. His hands make their way under my knit hat, and they're so warm against my cold skin, I moan. Loud running interrupts us as we back away a respectable distance from each other. Fuck.

"Mom, are we sledding or what?" Rose asks.

"Yes, but if you wanted to sled, you need to bundle back up."

"You too, Emmett," Edward adds.

"You too, Edward," I say, tongue sticking out at him from between my upturned lips. The kids laugh and Edward heads to grab his jacket, I assume.

We spend at least an hour outside, playing. Aside from the date at Edward's, it's the most fun I can recall having in the last few years. We sled, we throw snowballs, we make snow angels, and Edward and I sneak kisses and touches every single time we think the kids are distracted. It's thrilling and intensely frustrating.

After cocoa, we make sandwiches and eat in the living room, in front of the fireplace. It's not my romantic ideal with my hunky man, but this is a close second. For right now, our families are meshing. I can't ask for more.

Well, I can, but later.

Dinnertime sneaks up on us, and Edward explains that Sunday means dinner at Esme's. He invites Rose and me, but it's not time yet. After another replay of our parting of ways from last night, we leave. This time feels even worse, though, because we have no plans to see each other again until Friday.

Rose makes her Sunday night call to James, the one she makes when she's not spent the weekend with him, and they confirm their plans for the following weekend. He's not seeing her during the week this week, some lame excuse again. I've given up keeping track of them.

As we eat together at the table, we talk about the past week, and the week ahead. I think she says the name "Emmett" at least twenty times, going on and on about him.

Lying in bed with her a few hours later, I'm running my fingertips through her hair, my motherly attempt to soothe and calm her. We say goodnight, and I swap a few texts with Cullen before I collapse into bed, exhausted and not looking forward to work.

Mornings are awful, and this one is no exception as we run around the next day. Mondays suck, period. There's no way to make them better, you just have to accept it and move on. Once Rose is at school, I sneak through the Starbucks drive-thru, then feel fortified enough to face my boss.

Once I've pretended to work for a decent amount of time, I email Alice to get her opinion on clothes for my Friday night sleepover. I'm not surprised when my phone rings not five minutes later. Positive it's Alice, I answer.

"That was fast. Did you even look at what I sent?"

"Uh... Ms. Swan?"

It's not even noon on a Monday, are you kidding me with this shit, Mrs. Snarky? What kind of trouble could my kid be in already?

"I'm sorry," I say, flipping my phone to look at the display. Sure enough, school. "How can I help you, Mrs. Cope?"

"I need you to come into my office, Ms. Swan. Today."

Oh fuck. The tone of her voice leaves no wiggle room.

"Okay. What time?" Suddenly, I'm turned into Jell-O and all of my assertive parent bullshit is gone.

"Come in before pickup; two o'clock."

Mrs. Snarky hangs up before I can even fucking confirm, and I'm peeved. I'm also left to stew all god damn day about what she might want.

Finally, I'm out the door and on my way to school. Did Rose hit someone? Christ, I can't even imagine. Walking into the fancy building, the receptionist gives me a curt nod.

"Have a seat. She'll be right with you," is all she offers me before turning back to her work.

It takes mere moments before Snarky is fetching me, beckoning me to her office with just a hand gesture. I've got one for her...

Sitting, she gives me a hard glare. It's like we're at the O.K. Corral, and I swear, my forehead starts to bead with sweat.

"What is it?" I finally ask.

"Ms. Swan, we don't tolerate the use of slang and foul language at this school. We pride ourselves on well-groomed, well-educated, and well-behaved children."

I bite my tongue and hold in the laugh. Has she walked this campus lately? I've seen the kids that go here, the girls that roll their uniform skirts in upper school, the snot-nosed kids in the nursery program. But what does this have to do with Rose?

"Okay..." I say, trailing off and motioning my hands for her to fill me the fuck in.

"Today, in the middle of a class assembly, Rosalie asked me if there were a lot of DILFs at this school. Not just me, mind you. We were having Class One time, and she got up in front of the entire class, asking on the mic."

Nice. See, Bella? See where lying gets you?

"Mrs. Cope," I say, going for nice and polite. "I apologize. I assure you, Rose thinks a DILF is, well, not what you think. She overheard the word," I omit that it was me she overheard using it, "and I lied and gave her an alternate version. I told her it was a dad I'd like to be friends with."

A few heartbeats pass, and I try to gauge if this is my final straw. Is this the day I get my kid kicked out of this school?

"Make sure it doesn't happen again, Ms. Swan."

Snark dismisses me with another wave of her hand, and I thank my fucking lucky stars. I'm so relieved, I take Rose out to dinner. I also explain, in depth, that "DILF" isn't a word we use at school. When she asks why, I lie.

Edward has hardly texted me, which is good and bad. My natural instinct is to think this means he wants to bail. Maybe he's having regrets, but what he has texted me has been sweet and bordering on sexy, so it's probably just me being silly.

Thankfully, Rose doesn't put up a bedtime fight and she's down and out like a light in record time. I change into my flannel pajamas and curl up on the couch. A few texts later, I'm asleep in a smile-filled Edward haze.

Minus the trip to the principal, this day repeats itself on Tuesday. One small difference is that Edward appears at pickup. He doesn't immediately approach me; instead, he stands off to my side. I only know this because when I do turn and see him there, he laughs.

"I've been standing here for five minutes," he complains. "Don't you ever look around you?"

I'm sure I've turned five shades of red.

"Bad habit. I get very wrapped up in my head. Besides, where's your usual trail of PTA skanks?" I poke right back at him.

It's his turn to blush, and as if they have fucking SONAR hearing, Cuntywife comes up. Christ, could her tits be more perky?

"Jessica," I say with a curt nod. She might not acknowledge me, but I'm not going to play the class game with her.

As she lets go of Edward, she looks at me like I have two heads.

"Edward, how are you, honey?"

Wait a fucking second. Did she just call my … my … Edward "honey"?

The glare I give her rivals the one I often give Snarky when her back is to me. I turn to face Edward, waiting not-so-patiently to see how he's going to respond to her. We're not exclusive, we're not committed, so he owes me nothing, but my heart still clenches.

"I'm good, Jessica," he says, pulling back from her a little more. "How's Mike?"

Ugh. Just the mention of her vile husband almost makes me vomit. Just when I thought Cuntywife was as obnoxious as one could get, I met her husband one day. Terrible combover, terrible breath, terrible behavior.

Her face contorts and she realizes she's not getting anywhere with Edward today, so she wanders away after a few minutes of conversation. Naturally, I've mentally checked out and am staring at the clouds again, wondering when the next dumping of snow will hit, when I feel him closer to me, all warm, and good-smelling.

I've somehow forgotten how good Cullen looks in his work clothes, the crisp suit and tie doing everything for his body, even underneath his thick, wool winter coat. We exchange awkward smiles, and I realize something.

"Hey, Cullen... what the hell do you do, anyway?"

"I'm a hospital administrator, Bella. And you?"

I have no idea what a hospital administrator does.

"Legal secretary," I answer, although it feels so inadequate.

I wanted to go to law school. I wanted to open my own practice and fight for people. I wanted so many things.

The air between us, even with the weight of my thoughts, is thick with the best kind of tension. We're flirting with our eyes as we talk, his body inclining ever-so-slightly toward mine, and my body responds even without my permission. Is it Friday yet?

Shrill voices break us from our moment of enchantment, and for once, it isn't the Stepfords, but the kids. Edward walks to his car beside me, his arm grazing mine. I can't tell if he's teasing me on purpose or if he just feels the draw like I do, and I decide I don't care; I want it, either way.

We separate and he winks at me as he opens Emmett's door. My heart picks up, and I laugh, shaking my head.

The rest of my night is boring in comparison, right until Edward calls. We have a nice conversation, but it's too short. Reality is invading our time again, and it pisses me off.

Wednesday is my half-day at work, so I'm at pickup a little early. I spot Esme, and wander over to chat with her.

"How are you, Bella?" she asks, a grin on her face.

"I'm good, Esme. How are you?"

"Old," she laughs.

We stand quietly until she turns to me again. "Edward was going to ask Ben for a sleepover on Friday, but I don't think he has. Do you know his mom?"

"Oh, yes! He was supposed to email her," I say, rolling my eyes. "She's right there," I point, "Mrs. Cheney. Very nice."

"Thanks, dear."

Esme smiles and wanders over to Ben's mom. I watch as they chat, and wonder if Esme can pull off a last-minute sleepover. I really, really need her to. I mean, I'm sure Emmett needs to be around other kids, too.

In a move so clearly reminiscent of Edward, Esme notices me as I'm walking to my car and winks, a small nod of her head telling me she's secured the sleepover. I give her a little fistpump and she laughs, my intended reaction.

Edward is back at pickup the next day, and my breath hitches just seeing him. The weather has been clear for a few days, and he's just looking scrumptious. It's my turn to surprise him as I walk up and stand slightly behind him, what I'm hoping is just out of his peripheral vision. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, in a slightly scary move, and I wonder what the fuck he's doing.

"You smell so good," he says quietly.

"I do, huh?"

"Stop. Just... don't. I can't take it today."

"Hard day?"

Turning to look at me, his eyes are pleading. "What did I just say?" he says, eyes wide.

Oh.

"Sorry, I didn't realize … I mean, yeah. Um."

I'm stumbling over my words and shuffling my feet, unsure of myself.

"It was exhausting," he supplies.

His eyes confirm he's telling the truth, and suddenly the fewer texts make sense. I want to reach out and soothe his eyes, touch his face, kiss his lips. The urge to try and take away his pain consumes me, but I stop just short, one step away from him, conscious of the gaggle of gossiping whores around us.

"We still on for tomorrow?" I ask, hopeful that he can sense everything I'm implying.

No, I'm not exactly planning a night of seduction, but I do want several hours of Edward, uninterrupted. I want to touch him and not worry about the eyes on us at school, or kiss him and not worry about a kid walking in on us, and mostly, I want to get to know so much more about him.

"Yes," he says almost in a sigh. "I'm looking forward to it. Are you coming over after Rose is picked up? Emmett's leaving school with Mrs. Cheney, so I'll be ready as soon as I can get out of work."

"Yeah, I can do that. Did you let the teacher know that Mrs. Cheney's picking Em up?"

He shakes his head no, and I realize maybe Emmett hasn't ever had a playdate at someone else's house.

"Esme usually does that," he explains. "Thanks for the reminder."

Oh.

The kids flood out from the building and we're separated as he talks to the teacher. Rose and I have to run, and I don't want to stand around looking obvious, so I wander away. As I open my car door, I look his direction again in hopes I can at least nod a goodbye. No such luck; he's still talking to the teacher.

We do our usual texting routine, and I fall asleep thinking up questions to ask him and topics I want to talk about.

Friday morning, I'm wide awake and eager. My overnight bag is packed, my body is shaved, plucked, and waxed as needed, and I feel good. Taking extra time after James picks up Rose to change into something sexier than my standard workwear, I make a mental note to try and buy a few new pieces of lingerie soon. I might not have planned a night of seduction, but that doesn't mean I don't want one.

The drive to Edward's feels like it takes forever, but the snow is slowing everything down. Finally, I'm here, and ready. As I walk around to get my bag from the trunk, I feel Edward behind me. His body presses mine into the cold of the car, and I yelp.

"Let me help you with that," he says as he reaches in and grabs my things. Before he moves away, he nuzzles his nose against my neck then gives me a playful bite. "Inside, please."

He closes the trunk, his hand takes mine, and I follow. Inside, he at least lets me get my coat off this time. I giggle at the reminder of our first night together, and he catches me.

"I know. I can't walk inside without thinking about it, too," he says. "Do you know what kind of torture that is? Every time I come home, I think of you underneath me."

How is it that I'm warmer now, with my jacket off? I have no time to contemplate it before Edward's leading me to the living room.

"I don't want that to happen again, at least not today," he says with a laugh. "Best we head to safer territory."

When we're in his living room, he sits in a huge, plush chair in front of the fireplace, and guides me to sit next to him. Slightly defiantly, I sit in his lap. One of my arms is up and around his neck, my legs across the arm of the chair on the other side, laughing. Edward takes a quick look down my legs, his hand following his eye, and then unbuckles and removes each of my shoes. They fall to the floor without a second thought.

Bending down to reach me, his lips are soft and gentle on mine. Smiling, I relax in his arms. This is what I've waited for all week, and it's so fucking worth it. His big hands are warm and comforting as they wrap around me and pull me slightly closer. We're awkward like this, but there's no chance in Hell I'm moving. If I straddle him, which would be far more comfortable, I know we'll just move forward too fast.

Edward's lips are so soft compared to mine. The sounds of our lips against each other, our mouths kissing sweetly, and our breathing in the room, is delightful. I can hear the fireplace as well, the occasional crackle of the wood burning, but what I care about and focus on more, are Edward's noises. He's adorable with his whimpers, hums, moans, and grunts. He's not holding back, and that is the sexiest thing ever.

A long, low sigh leaves his mouth, and I notice he's slowing down. He can't be out of steam yet, we haven't even gotten our hands involved, but he's dropped back to just soft pecks and nibbles at my lips.

"Hungry?"

Oh, right. Food. I nod.

Picking me up so he can stand, I realize he's even stronger than I've ever given him credit for.

Once he's set me back down, he wanders off to what I assume is the kitchen. I wait, watching the fire, thinking about his life. Hearing him before I see him, I smile. He slides a tray between the two seats, and I look over to see an near feast of edibles, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. There are olives, cheese cubes, bread chunks, foil-wrapped chocolate squares, and green grapes.

Instead of taking the chair next to me as I expect, he sits at my feet. His eyes are so bright and alive, but there's still a strange hint of sad and tired there, too.

For the first time, I notice there's a blanket spread out on the ground, and Edward motions for me to sit on it with him.

"This all looks delicious," I say, and reach for a cheese cube.

His hand stops mine before I can grab it, and he pulls them both into his lap.

"No feeding yourself tonight, is the only rule."

"That goes for both of us, I assume?" I ask.

Smiling, he simply nods his reply. I lick my lips and eye the food.

"What do you want?" My words have a double meaning, and Edward laughs.

"For now? A grape, please."

As I pluck a bright green grape from the stems, he opens his mouth. I'm glad I'm sitting, because my knees go weak with the sight before me. Moving my fingers to his mouth, I watch as he closes his lips around them, sucking the grape from between the tips before I have a chance to let go.

Jesus God. He expects us to get through feeding each other all of this food?

We feed each other bites, take gulping drinks of wine, and I start to feel more playful. I put a piece of chocolate, warmed from the fire, between my lips. Edward looks at me with a raised eyebrow, as if calling me on breaking the rules. My mouth widens into a smile and I lean toward him. His mouth opens and captures my lips as they meet his. The combination of Edward, the chocolate, the heat, the wine...

Climbing into his lap, I practically attack him. Our lips are messy, the chocolate melting between them and getting all over our mouths. We're laughing and touching and so ready for each other. His hands are at my breasts, and while my dress is thin, the stupid bra I put on is way too padded and I can't feel him like I want to. Straddling his lap, I sit up and pull my dress off in one movement. I'm honestly too tipsy to even think about being self-conscious, but the way he looks at me erases every doubt I've ever had.

Edward looks hungry, lusty, and greedy. I think I'm going to like Greedy Edward. The thought that I'm supposed to be the one providing a nice experience, in repayment for the previous weekend at the gym, flies through my brain, then escapes and is out of my mind in the blink of an eye.

Before I can take my bra and panties off, Edward pushes up, sitting with me. His hands are in my hair, gripping and tugging, perfect and sure. There are muttered obscenities, and I'm not even sure if it's him saying them or me. I don't really even care, as long as we keep going just like this, making out and touching each other.

Removing my bra, his hands slide under the fabric and then around. Swiping his thumbs along the underside of my breasts, he elicits a moan and my body arches toward him, seeking more. More, more, more, I'm thinking in my head. He always makes me want more, I realize.

"Lay back," he says quietly.

I think about protesting, but stop myself. I am putty in his hands, again. Still.

As I move down, he pulls my bra all the way off, sneaky bastard. We shift around awkwardly for a minute as I move my legs and lay back. His intense gaze doesn't make me feel uncomfortable this time; instead, I'm just really, really turned on. I smile softly at him, and he returns it before leaning forward, toward my body.

Putting my hand up, I stop him. I want his clothes off; I need to feel his body against mine this time.

"Clothes, baby," I say, and then giggle, because I can hear the fine line of tipsy I'm walking when I speak. I'm not slurring, not beyond controlling myself or making decisions, I'm just really, delightfully buzzed.

Edward laughs too, and stands to take his clothes off. He takes the t-shirt over his head and drops it down on my face, still laughing. Before I move it, I take a stalker-like inhale of his scent. By the time I move the shirt off my face, Edward is down to his boxers. God, the way they hug his thighs is sinful, and I can see his cock already. Sitting up, I reach out for him, but he shakes his head at me.

"Lay back down."

Doing my best to roll back down gracefully, I look up at him, hovering over me still. I'm trying to control the idiotic noises in my head, a symphony of "mmm" and "ung" and "NOW PLEASE".

"Close your eyes," he says.

Just when I thought he couldn't get me hotter. I comply and close my eyes. Hearing crinkly noises, I assume he's unwrapping a condom. A condom. Shit. It occurs to me that we didn't use a condom last weekend.

As my brain rolls that thought around, I'm distracted by Edward's hands at my hips. My panties are pulled down and away from my body, and I wait to feel him between my legs again. Shifting, I pull my knees up and bend them, feet flat on the floor.

Edward hums low, and I feel like the sound vibrates right through my body. "Look at you, so gluttonous and ready." His words make me want to squirm, press against him. He's right; guilty as charged.

"Not yet, though. Not yet."

He's humming again, and I can feel his hands closer to my body, then warmth and wetness at my breast. I think it's his mouth, until he actually does wrap his mouth around my nipple. Feeling his lips on my skin, his tongue lapping, I think I might go insane. More vibrating hums, stronger sucking, and I can hear myself moaning.

Feeling the path of whatever it is he has shift and move down my body, my eyes fly open. He's got one of the chocolate squares between his fingers, practically painting my body in the soft, melted chocolate. Inhaling sharply as he crosses my abdomen, I fear he's going to take that blissful little square too low and give me the world's nastiest yeast infection. That's not the kind of parting gift I want to go home with.

"Edward..."

"Shh," he encourages.

Okay. I decide to go with it, let myself enjoy, and I'll speak up if he gets too close.

Just as he takes the chocolate and traces the top of my mound, he changes directions and heads back up my body. He completes what feels like a circuit, having drawn all around my body. I don't know why, but I'm taken by surprise as he begins to lick and suck along the chocolate path. By the time he's done with one nipple and making his way lower, I'm already a moaning, panting mess.

I swear, he licks across the top of my mound to get the chocolate, and I want to grab his hair and press him the slight bit lower, cooch drama be damned. Instead, I curse and feel his tongue make several swiping paths back and forth. He's placing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there, sucking and then licking once the skin is in his mouth. When he returns back to soft, sweet licks, on purpose or accident I have no idea, the very tip of his tongue slips quickly against my clit, and I realize this really is the best kind of torture there is.

Edward moves his mouth back up, thankfully, and as he captures my other nipple between his lips, I do finally wrap my hands into his hair. My hips press up into his, and I am reminded of the fact that we need either a condom or a few questions answered.

"Fuck. Edward..." I pause to breathe. Pressing my lips to his neck, now that he's got his head level with mine, I continue. "You're killing me in the best way possible, but Edward, condom?"

All movement ceases, as if Edward has completely forgotten the rules of being with someone new, too.

"Oh."

He pulls back to look at me.

"I don't have any. You're not... Are you on..."

"No, I've got an IUD, but..."

"Bella, I don't have any STDs. Don't you think I'd have told you?"

I'm glad he's sort of laughing as he says it, because the potential for a really awful misunderstanding or hurt feelings is huge in this moment.

"Yes, of course. And I have nothing to worry about. I mean, not that you gave me a chance to tell you much before last weekend," I say.

"Good."

As he says the word, his mouth is back on my skin, everywhere at once. His fingers are playing me, touching me where I've wanted and needed him all night, and I can't even think as they dip into me. Fuck. He's so good at everything and anything he does to me.

His breath is hot against my ear, his body still hovering over mine as his fingers tease and bring me to new heights. "God, you are so fucking sexy like this."

Somehow, the words combined with his actions spiral me into my orgasm. I'm clawing at him, whimpering and moaning, holding in the loudest scream of my life as I feel my body tighten and release around him.

Before I can even think of recovering, of speaking, of doing anything, he's pulling my legs up and thrusting into me. He's not hurting me or being aggressive; he's confident in the precision with which he moves. And, oh dear God, he really has earned that confidence. The angle he has my legs, resting against his chest, and the way he's pushing into me... I'm already heading into my next orgasm. I'm not even sure, actually, that I left the first one behind. It's all a haze of bliss at this point.

Hearing him talk, the obscenities coming from his mouth are so hot. One of his hands leaves my legs and cups my breast, teasing and pulling at my nipple as he continues to thrust into me. My own hands are all over his body, scratching and pulling him closer, to no avail. We're as close as we can get, and that pisses me off, to some degree. The next time we do this, I want to be on top so I can just get my body right next to his.

Picking up his pace, he's hitting harder, faster, deeper, and I fall again. My eyes are closed, my head is moving side-to-side like a possessed woman, and I just want to suspend my body in this pleasure. A few moments later, I can hear him grinding out words through his teeth, his body slowing and then stopping as he rides out his own orgasm.

In contrast to the frantic and needy moment before, he pulls back from me slowly, kissing each of my calves. His hands rub soothing circles on my muscles, and I can't be bothered to open my eyes yet. Right where I am is warm and happy, the fire still smoldering, Edward settling into my side. My head turns to him and we kiss softly, carefully.

I haven't learned much more about him, but decide we have all morning to talk. I realize I'm so in love with this man beside me. I couldn't deny it if I wanted to, and that is such a foreign concept to me. I've always been able to guard my heart, protect myself, but I can't with Edward. I'm incapable of hiding, incapable of holding back, and he seems to be in the exact same predicament.

The last thing I hear before I fall deep asleep is Edward's contented hum and whispered thanks against the top of my head. At some point in the night, he has clearly dug through my bag and wakes me to put my nightgown on and follow him to bed.

In my most romantic and wild fantasies, I never could have imagined the feeling I have as I lay with him, drifting back to sleep in his arms. His bed is fucking huge, unimaginably comfortable, and it's as if this is where I've been headed my entire life. Nothing has fit like this, or made sense like this, ever. I push the thought to the back of my head, saving my nervous breakdown and re-analysis of my entire failed marriage for a more suitable time, and succumb to sleep.

A/N2: This story will now go back on hiatus *sadface* until the rest of my in-progress stories are completed. You can always check my blog (mskathy (dot) com) for updates on where I am in my writing!