that the excuse you’ll give for kissing me?” he asked, taking a wine glass off the shelf and crossing to the sofa. With his back to me, he settled into the cocoon of blankets and poured my burgundy. I stood there, wondering what to do next – although we both knew what was going to happen. I’d known the minute I had made up my mind to give him his handkerchief back tonight.
After taking his time, Edward flipped back the corner of the quilts, holding them aloft. “You have to admit, it’s cold out there, alone.” I hesitated for a split second. “Come on then,” he said very gently. “Who’re you kidding?”
Live your least secretive life. Most of all, don’t keep secrets from yourself. My aunt’s voice rang in my head. Since the first conversation I had with him, I have wanted to press my body up against Edward, to cover his mouth with mine, to attack him without any of the shyness or reserve I had with Stephen or Ben.
“No one,” I admitted, sliding into the warm envelope of blankets, and onto his lap. “Ah,” I breathed out involuntarily. Even though I was terrified of where this might lead, I couldn’t help myself. I’d been waiting so long to press against him that the first thing I felt was something like relief.
He wrapped me in his arms and I tilted my face up to his, aching for a kiss. He looked into my eyes as we sat melting into one another, breathing the same air. “Please,” I whispered.
He reached around, stroking the back of my neck with his big, strong hand. Tangling his fingers upward, into my hair, he teased me, holding my head still. Brushing his lips slowly across mine, he moved back each time I tried to drink him in.
“Edward, please,” I sighed.
Clamping his mouth down hard onto mine, soft firm lips parted, and he turned my sigh into a moan. The only thing that existed was the warm lushness of his kiss. I was drunk. Our mouths moved together for what might have been minutes or centuries before I surfaced, becoming aware of all the sensations pulsing below my neck.
Underneath all of our fuzzy, wooly clothes, I could feel how tight and hard his body was. I was frantic with desire. Before I could think, I was straddling him, with my mouth still on his, my hands caressing the short, velvety hair under his cap. “Oh my good God,” I sighed, pushing myself against his lap. “Edward. You feel amazing.”
“There’s my girl,” he said quietly into my ear, as I was sliding my hand up his sweater, stroking past the down on his chest, up to the muscles of his shoulders. “I knew you were in there somewhere.” He managed to untie and pull off my robe without casting off the quilts. I literally couldn’t wait for him to unbutton my pajamas. The need for his hands on my skin was loud in my head. I pushed his hand under my top, and to my surprise, boldly showed him how to touch me. I could feel how aroused he was, but he followed my lead, all attention on my body, teasing me exquisitely until teasing wasn’t good enough. I knelt over him, pushing his hand down into my pajama bottoms, panting “yes, like that,” and “no, do this,” until, with him looking right into my eyes, I rocked and shook the way I never had with any man.
We disentangled and I gingerly lowered myself to his side, putting my arms around his neck, laying my ear on his chest to avoid looking at him. I could hear my own heavy breathing and I was embarrassed by how forward I’d just been.
“I’m sorry if…” I began.
“Don’t be sorry. That was beautiful,” he said to me, his voice vibrating through his sweater. “I’ve missed you. I didn’t know if you’d take a job here again, after our row.” He pulled back and took a long look at me. “You’re amazing, you know that. Promise you’ll let me do that again.”
I started to say what a bad idea it was to fool around with your co-worker, and what a mistake it had been, but who was I kidding. I knew I’d crawl ten miles to let him.
“Let you?” I said. “How about beg you?” I already felt starved for him. Inside my head, it felt like my brain had been replaced with warm, swirly, golden caramel. I couldn’t form a logical thought.
“I have wanted that since the first minute I laid eyes on you,” I said, matter-of-factly. “When we met in the kitchen, I wanted to put my hands under your clothes and feel your bare skin.” My mouth was saying whatever it wanted, unedited. My body was in control; my rational mind had lost the battle.
“That’s what I wanted,” he said simply.
“Well what’re your thoughts on letting me do a few things to you?” I whispered into his ear, gliding my hand across his lap to check his mood. Signs pointed to a positive outcome. And with one fell swoop, he picked the pile of blankets and me up, knocking over one of the wine glasses in our wake, and ferried me easily to the bedroom, even though we were pretty evenly matched, height-wise.
“My thoughts on that are impure,” he said, pulling his top off, exposing his calisthenics-shaped torso. “Filthy, in fact. Are you down with that?” In a split second, he was poised over me in a push-up, waiting for an answer.
Well, Juliet, whatever plan you were supposed to be sticking to seems like it’s out the window. Who knew I was so fickle? But with his mouth, and his hands on me, and the feeling of his…
“I have never been more down with anything in my life,” I said, rising up to meet him.
I woke up, face down on an unfamiliar pillow, to the rattle of a dropped pot lid. Disoriented, and too tired to lift my head, I took in a deep breath. I smelled cinnamon and the faintest, musky scent of a man’s sweat.
“Morning, Princess,” Edward said, padding toward me.
Oh dear God, I’m in Edward’s bed. Is my brain broken? Am I missing a judgment gene? Instinctively I tried to mash myself further down into the mattress so as to go unnoticed. I tried to pretend I wasn’t there, but images from last night flashed across the IMAX screen in my head: running my tongue over the sleek muscle over Edward’s pelvic bone, the top of his head as he kissed a line down to my navel and below, his expression after he’d pulled me on top of him and I slowly lowered myself down, making him moan low and deep. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Um, Princess might be too strong a title. After my, uh, behavior last night, I may need a stint in finishing school.”
Laughing, he said, “Proper ladies are dull. I’d rather be with you.”
“Thanks. Maybe.”
He leaned down, slid his hands under my shoulders and flipped me right over. “There’s my sexy girl,” he said. Before I could open my mouth to speak any kind of words that might justify my unrecognizable behavior from the night before, his soft warm lips were on mine. Instinctively, I felt myself tilting my chin and propping myself on my elbows to reach closer to him, unwilling to lose the lush sweetness of his mouth. When he stood upright, breaking the contact, it was excruciating.
“Nooooo,” I heard myself whine. I snapped my eyes open to see Edward smiling and looking appreciatively at my naked breasts. I snatched the sheet upwards. Thank goodness it was still dark in his bedroom.
“Not much point in that,” he teased. “I’m afraid the horse is out of the barn. I’ve seen every inch of you now.” I started to turn my head away, but he held my chin in his strong hand, forcing me to meet his eye. “Every
