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Little Green and Easybella 26


(BELLA)

I can only remember one time in my life when I woke up in a blink, without so much as a mental backward glance on a night's sleep. Like, you know, just opening my eyes and wham – new day!

I remember it was the night before Christmas when I was ten years old. I had been so incredibly excited that sleeping seemed to be impossible, and I lay in my bed, wide-awake. And suddenly, I opened my eyes and it was morning, and I couldn't even remember falling asleep.

Today is the same… instant awareness. I'm absolutely not a morning person, so this total lack of doziness is pretty damn special for me. I try to recall when and how I fell asleep last night, but to no avail. All I know is, it is Wednesday morning, I'm chipper as hell, this is Edward's bedroom and Edward's bed – sans Edward – and someone is moving around outside of this room.

Which is probably Edward, and he is probably in the kitchen, judging from the nature of those occasional little noises.

There's no alarm clock in this room; at least I can't see one. I have no idea what time it is, but it doesn't bother me. I know, Edward has a built in clock… well, usually anyway. Yesterday's spillage-induced episode doesn't count.

I get up from the bed, quite jauntily, and pick my tee shirt off of the floor. I scan the area around my naked feet, but for some reason, my panties seem to have left without so much as leaving a note. With a shrug, I put the tee on and pull its hem down as far as it goes, which is barely mid-ass, but hey… it's just Edward and me here. And is that freshly brewed coffee I smell?

Following the quiet clanking and clattering, I tip-toe to the kitchen. When I poke my head through the door crack, I smile at the sight before me and the warm tingling in the stomach it gives me.

Edward making breakfast, totally immersed in his task.

And totally naked.

And totally gorgeous.

I take a deep breath and when I release it, it comes out in an audible sigh. Startled, I quickly cover my mouth with my hand, but Edward didn't hear me over the gurgle of the coffeemaker. He doesn't turn around but keeps on working smoothly and methodically, fetching plates, bowls and mugs from the cupboard, and arranging them on the counter in pairs.

I love the way his back muscles flex each time he reaches up; I think I could watch this all day. I even love the scattered moles on his back, if only because without them he would be ridiculously immaculate. He is just so beautifully made, tall and lean. My eyes fixate on the faint tan line at his small hips and the cute dimples above his bottom.

He's got a pretty butt, not one of those flat man-asses with hollow buttocks. His cheeks are nicely rounded and firm, and I think about how soft the light hair on them feels under my palms. I lean my head against the doorframe and another sigh escapes me.

Jesus Christ, am I really standing here, contemplating the qualities of male butt cheeks?

Finally noticing my presence, Edward turns around. I need to avert my gaze from his lower half, or else I'll be contemplating penis qualities next. Our eyes connect and he freezes.

"Bella…"

"Hey there," I say. I open the door fully and finally move the rest of me into the kitchen, too.

"You're awake."

"Well, yes." I smile at him, but he stays put, a slightly displeased expression on his face.

"I'm making breakfast," he states the obvious.

"I can see that." Jeez, what's with the frown?

"You're not supposed to be up yet."

"Am I not?"

Nervously, he starts messing with his hair. "I wanted to surprise you, but now..." he trails off, at a loss.

I slowly walk over to him. "But I am surprised; this is so sweet of you," I assure him. "You want me to go back to bed until you're done?"

His hands reach for my hips as soon as I'm close enough. "No," he whispers.

I can't help the chuckle. "Need some help? I'll just go and put my panties on." If I can find them, that is.

"No." He pulls me closer and... oh, hello! Someone's waking up down there.

"Good morning, Bella."

I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle his neck. "Good morning to you, too. Did you mean 'no, I don't need help' or did you mean, 'no, don't put panties on'?"

"Both."

He closes his eyes and tilts his head, inviting me to take advantage of the now completely exposed area of skin, which I shamelessly do, nibbling and kissing. Man, this jawline is killing me; I feel the urge to bite down, but I resist. I think I've scored the most gorgeous boyfriend on the planet.

He turns his head a little further to the side, clearly enjoying my caresses. "I'm happy that you're up," he almost purrs.

I can feel his happiness press into my stomach. His hands reach around to cup my behind, and my girly bits are about to start weeping because of being left out of the party.

"And I like that you're not wearing your panties," he says softly, and after a moment of deliberating he adds, "…baby."

Weeping! Girly bits… definitely weeping now… good Lord!

"So what are we going to do now?" I ask somewhat shakily.

He reluctantly breaks away from me to look me in the eyes. "You just sit down and let me serve you breakfast; it will be ready in a few minutes. Or you can grab a shower, if you'd like. What would you like to eat? Do you like cereal? I can make scrambled eggs, or…"

"Actually, I never have breakfast before leaving for work. I usually have a quick snack at the drugstore before we open. This is a bit overwhelming, to be honest. I don't even know if my stomach can manage solid food this early."

"Oh…" Cue Little Green signature frown.

"But the coffee smells wonderful," I hurry to say. "Can I have some of that?"

Immediately, his face lights up with a happy smile. "Yes, sure!"

Without further ado, he grabs me by my shoulders, gently turns me around, and then puts his arms around my middle. Holding me close, my back flush to his chest, he starts moving. I squeal with surprise as he duck-walks me over to the kitchen table, peppering my neck with kisses along the way. Giggling and stumbling, we awkwardly shuffle through the short distance, fortunately without accident.

I love this so much about Little Green... that he doesn't dwell on the fact that I practically rejected his sweet gesture. With Jake, a situation like this would have evoked a snarky retort on his behalf, most likely followed by a few days of silent treatment.

But, not Edward. I absolutely adore his ability to let go of his disappointment just so, processing the information given and moving on happily. And that's exactly what he's doing now.

As soon as I'm seated, Edward gets to work. He takes the two mugs he had placed on the counter earlier and puts them next to the coffeemaker, which finally has stopped sounding like Darth Vader having an anxiety attack. Before proceeding with the coffee though, and much to my amusement, he methodically sorts all of the other dishes back into the cupboard.

Of course... that's so him!

I smile to myself. And I thoroughly enjoy watching him clearing the space of the no longer required items. I love how he is so uninhibited, innocently walking around in all his naked glory, as if totally unaware of his fully erect cock bouncing with every step. I squeeze my legs together under the table.

Girly bits... more weeping... damn!

When everything is finally to his satisfaction, he pours us two coffees and brings them over to the table. Before he can put the mugs down, I rise from my chair, stopping him in his tracks.

"Edward..."

Following my gaze with his eyes, he looks down at himself and sighs. "It just won't go away," he mumbles apologetically. "I can't help it when you're around. I cannot will it away, you know."

He swallows noisily. I raise my head in time to find him looking at me again. "Here's your coffee," he says, all business, and hands me the steaming mug. I take it from him with both hands as if I'm on autopilot and draw in a sharp breath.

"Careful, it's hot."

No shit!

I quickly turn the mug in my fingers to grab it by the handle, as Edward continues unperturbed, "Also, when you smell like making love, I just cannot stop thinking about making love to you."

I gape at him.

"And Bella, right now, you do smell very much like making love. It messes with my mind."

"Well, I cannot help it either," I whisper, blushing. "When you're around and we're close like this, it just happens."

"I know," he says, and for some reason those two simple words make my breathing speed up.

"Is it bad that I don't want either of us to do anything about it? Because I don't want to. Not really. I just... I don't want this to stop, the excitement, your scent... I don't want it to stop. But you need to get ready for work soon."

I take a deep breath. "Soon. But not now."

"Twenty-seven minutes until your normal wake-up time."

See? Built-in clock.

"I could skip the shower."

He thinks about it for a moment. "Thirty-seven then."

I nod my head yes. "And dry blowing my hair takes ten minutes, too. No shower, no wet hair."

"Forty-seven."

"And other than the bus, you won't have to stop a dozen times on the way. If you're driving me, we'll gain another fifteen minutes. That's an hour, give or take."

He releases a shattered breath and blinks rapidly a few times. Then he just stares at me, with his brows knit together and open-mouthed. It's that kind of 'does she mean what I'm thinking she means?' stare, and I chuckle quietly. We're probably producing quite an odd sight, facing each other in our naked and in my case half-naked state, both of us holding – and totally neglecting - a coffee in one hand.

Speaking of which, the mug in Edward's hand starts shaking somewhat dangerously. In fact, all of Edward is swaying back and forth a little at this point. The premonition of an impending spillage accident makes me grab his wrist to steady him. I'm not taking chances here!

"Why don't we just go back to bed," I whisper, trying to sound seductive, and he finally snaps out of his trance-like condition and steps a little closer to me. When the tip of his erect cock brushes against my stomach, he flinches at the sudden contact, and a bit of his coffee splashes over and down to the tile floor.

Oh. Fuck.

Edward looks down at the small, brown-ish pools and freezes, breathing heavily through his nose, and I internally brace myself for his reaction. Crap, this was so not supposed to happen…

Not taking his eyes off of the floor, he suddenly speaks. "An hour?" he asks.

I nod my head yes, although I know that he can't see it, but I'm too much in shock to answer him verbally. I'm just holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Bella," he breathes and slowly lifts his head. The gaze of his green eyes is intense and eerily calm as he licks his lips and says, "I want to go back to bed with you."

Okay…

Mechanically, I nod my head once more.

Wait… what?

"What?" I squeak.

Instead of answering me, he jumps into action like a sprinter at the starting shot. The still untouched coffee is ripped from my hand and is disposed of in the sink together with its twin brother before I can even blink twice. Then Edward is on his knees in front of me, wiping frantically at the floor tiles with a kitchen towel.

It only takes him a few seconds to remove the puddles, just enough time for me to notice that inspite of the loathsome spillage accident, he's still sporting an impressive erection. In practically no time, he is on his feet again.

After peering at the kitchen floor one last time, he takes my hand and I find myself being dragged towards the bathroom, where the soaked kitchen towel gets a free flight into the laundry basket. Then he turns around to face me. His gaze wanders up and down my body a few times, and I feel my cheeks heat up under his scrutiny.

What the hell…?

"Take the shirt off," he suddenly says, and I blush even more at his surprisingly commanding tone. This is new and… kind of hot, and more so when he contradicts himself next by adding a soft, "please."

A new wave of want washes over me and I'm getting almost uncomfortably wet down there. I only notice that I am staring at his beautiful hard-on, unmoving, when he gets impatient with me.

"Please take it off," he pleads and points a finger at my tummy. "There's coffee on it."

"Oh!" My eyes snap to where he's pointing. "I didn't notice."

And here I was thinking…

Once more I feel my blood flooding my cheeks, this time for a totally different reason. Damn! He just wants to get rid of the spillage evidence, a continuation of his cleaning frenzy in the kitchen. What's next? Doing laundry together?

On the other hand, I should be glad he took the accident so well this time. He doesn't seem to be upset which is good, right? And I have to hand it to him, he cleaned up the mess quickly and thoroughly. He dealt with it instead of freaking out. But seriously, I don't now how much more of those OCD buzzkillers I can take. I really wish I'd had at least a sip of the coffee.

"Bella…" His velvet voice right next to my ear jolts me out of my musings, and I start at his sudden proximity. "Bella, it doesn't matter. Just take it off, please. I want to take you to my bed so badly."

When I look up at him, all unpleasant considerations dissolve into thin air. His green eyes are smoldering, and all I can see in them is adoration and yes… a certain hunger, too, laced with impatience.

"Please?" He reaches for the hem of the teeshirt. "Allow me," he says, and I raise my arms and let him lift the fabric over my head, leaving me naked. Just as naked as he is. He half turns around, aiming at the laundry basket, and sends the tee flying.

Before it has even hit its destination, Edward's mouth is on mine and his erection nudges my belly. My lips part of their own volition and, when our tongues meet, my stomach explodes in liquid heat so intense that my knees buckle under me. My eager boyfriend's strong arms are the only things keeping me from sinking down to the floor with blissful weakness.

He breaks the kiss, and we both gasp in need for some air. I only manage to take one deep breath before he cups the back of my head with his hand and buries my face in the crook of his neck. With one arm still tightly wound around my waist, he almost crushes me against his form. His breathing is erratic and hot in my hair when he starts what I immediately recognize as one of those new Little Green word vomits.

"You smell so good, so good. And your skin... Bella, I cannot think when you feel and smell like that. My mind goes all wobbly and my thoughts are wobbly, too. No, they are like fringed... frayed thoughts, and I don't even mind. It's like being in shock, but different because I'm not afraid and I don't want it to stop. Ever. I'm burning inside, aching… but it's a good burning, and a sweet aching, and…"

His death grip on me loosens up a little, and I'm glad to find that, against expectations, my slightly shaky legs still carry me. He cups my face with both hands and presses his forehead against mine.

"…every so often I try to produce the sensation, even when you're not around. I think of you, or of you and me together. I close my eyes and think of something we did, like when I had my mouth on you in my parents' house or… when you touched me. And it works. When I think of you – of us – I can make myself feel the burning, like an electric jolt, only slower, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," I whisper breathlessly. "I do the same, love. Over and over."

"But it doesn't last, right? It never lasts long enough; it's not the real thing. It's just a memory-burn, and I'm afraid to wear it off, if I keep replaying my memories of us too often. Also, it's not the same at all… it's not like when you're really touching me; it's just a shadow of what I'm feeling when you're with me like you are now."

"I know."

"Please touch me," he moans. "Touch me, Bella, please…"

I notice that I haven't moved at all since he started talking. My arms are hanging limply from my shoulders like the arms of a ragdoll, and that needs to change! I put my hands on his sides, stroking his hipbones with my thumbs.

Edward draws in a sharp breath at my touch, and his stomach muscles clench. He closes his eyes and exhales a shuddering, "yesss…" Still leaning against me with our foreheads touching, his hands on my cheeks start moving, caressing my face ever so gently.

"Bella, I love you so much; I cannot think straight. I want to make love to you so badly."

Mesmerized, I watch a small bead of pre-cum form at the tip of his cock. I reach down and gingerly push back the soft foreskin, then spread the moisture over the swollen head. Edward flinches and all but whimpers, the sound going straight to my core. There's not much room for me to maneuver, what with him standing so close to me, but somehow I manage to wrap my hand around his length and give him a single slow stroke.

With a low groan, he throws his head back and pushes his hips forward. I continue pumping him as best as I can in the confined space between our bodies, loving the heat and the velvety texture of his skin under my palm. And Edward's face is a sight to behold, with his features contorted in pleasure and panting through his open mouth. My clit starts to throb in time with my racing heart.

Suddenly his arms are around me again, effectively immobilizing my hand between us. His head falls heavy onto my shoulder.

"Bella," he moans. "I cannot… I need to curse."

"You do?"

"Fuck, yes!"

God, he is so adorable!

We stay still for a moment, while he quietly utters a few more 'fucks', throwing in one or two 'shits' for good measure. Our breathing slows down a little, and eventually the string of muttered expletives stops. Still holding me tight, with my hand trapped between our bodies, he starts rubbing his forehead back and forth against my neck and shoulder.

"I'm so sorry I forgot to pick you up yesterday," he suddenly says.

Wow, that's quite a topic change…

"Oh no, don't even –" I try to interject, but he's on a roll again.

"No, listen. Things are different now. Since the moment you knew that you… God, it's so hard to think; you smell so good!" He firmly grabs my behind and rolls his hips, grinding against me. "When you said that you love me, something… kind of… shifted, you know. A big change, and it's permanent and now I… shit, why is this so hard?"

He loosens his hold on me and I take the opportunity to try and wiggle my hand free, but he stops me. "Please don't," he whispers and moves his hips forward, gently thrusting into my fist. Then he stills again.

Jesus Christ...!

"Edward, I'm not sure I can keep up with you right now."

"I know. I'm sorry, it's just… you see, those letters that Esme kept…"

What the hell?

"I thought about it and I don't want to read them. Not yet anyway. Because I'm scared that if I do, maybe I won't be able to forgive her. And I want to forgive her!"

I gasp. Seriously?

"No, hear me out. Please, this is… I mean, we are here and I love you and you love me back, so…"

He wants to forgive Esme? Just like that? And are we actually having this conversation while I'm more or less giving him a hand-job?

"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks and looks up at me, needing reassurance.

So I nod and tell him 'Yes, we are', involuntarily giving his cock a little squeeze, as if for further confirmation. He gasps out another 'fuck' and crashes his lips on mine in a searing kiss that temporarily drowns most of my coherent thinking.

Much too soon for my liking, he pulls back. Once more our foreheads touch as we're both trying to regain some composure. His eyes are closed, but he isn't done talking yet; there's more. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm wondering how much of our stolen hour we've already spent. And where the fuck were we anyway?

"I need you to keep the letters for me, so I won't read them."

Oh, yes. Letters. Esme.

"Because we're okay, and Bella, you make me want to be a better person, a loving person. I want to be a good boyfriend and a good son, too. And I'm losing my mind right now because I want to lick you and taste that scent of yours on my tongue. Will you keep those letters for me?"

Huh?

"I need to work things out with Esme. I hate what she did, but I hate how it is between us now more, and… fuck, Bella, what are doing to me?"

Yes, what am I doing to him?

He opens his eyes to look down between us, and a deep groan rumbles through his chest. I follow his gaze to where my hands are… yes, both of my hands. One is still stroking his twitching cock; the other has disappeared between my own legs, moving in the same slow rhythm. When did that happen?

Reflexively, I pull my hand away from where I'm rubbing myself, but Edward snatches it mid-pull and brings it to his mouth. His lips close around my index and middle finger that are coated with my arousal, and his Northern light eyes bore into mine as he hollows his cheeks and moans around my digits.

"Oh God, Edward…"

This is it; I can't take it any more!

"Please, I want you inside of me," I practically whimper.

With a cry, he releases my fingers. "Fuck, yes… a thousand times… fuck!"

His hips thrust forward so fiercely that I lose my grip on him and my hand lands on his stomach. I can feel his tensed-up abs flutter under my palm. In fact, he is shaking head to toe now. Or is it me?

"I bought condoms," I blurt. "They're in my purse, in the bedroom."

That's all it takes. For someone who claims to have trouble thinking around me, his reaction time is quite remarkable. In one swift move, he scoops me up with one arm around my shoulders and the other under the back of my knees, and heads for the bedroom.

I hang on to him with my arms around his neck. And I don't let go as we plonk down onto the bed together, with the mattress bouncing underneath us. In no time, I'm on my back with Edward on top of me… with Edward everywhere on top of me, kissing, licking, undulating and grinding against me.

I'm really glad now that I brought myself to buy my first pack of condoms ever yesterday. Maybe I should have considered purchasing them somewhere else than Denali's; I really would have been just fine without Tanya's advice on the matter of safe sex, penis sizes and the benefits of banana-flavored latex. But nothing of that matters now.

"Baby," I pant, "please, I don't want to wait… my purse, on the nightstand…"

He runs the flat of his tongue along my throat, as if he hasn't heard me. His breath comes in short puffs, hot against my skin. "Letters?" he asks hoarsely.

What the hell? Sweet Jesus…!

"Condoms?" I give back.

"Bella, please."

For fuck's sake…

"I'll keep the letters!"

"I'll get the condoms."

Oh, thank fuck…


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