Covers by miztrezboo

--{Covers}--

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I trudged down the mostly empty street, paying little to no attention to the people passing me by. Sweat trickled down my neck and under my thin white undershirt. I should have forgone the leather jacket this morning, but it was always a thousand shades cooler where I was headed. I'd need the extra layers then.

Turning down the alley mostly hidden to the usual pedestrian window shoppers, I made my way to the third door on the right. I rolled my eyes at today’s quote that was a daily feature on the chalkboard sign hung from the large brass central knob.

“Everything is funny as long as it happens to somebody else.”

I could agree with that. I’d seen Emmett McCarty across the street this morning walking his girlfriend’s miniature French poodle in just his skivvies. An overtly large male with a teeny tiny girly dog, a regular sight that had long since stopped being humorous. Yet this time, I'd caught the words he was not so quietly whispering to little “Princess Consuela Banana Hammock” – obviously someone had watched far too many Friends episodes.

He'd urged his little sweet cheeks, his puffy wuffy darling, to make doo doo on the grassed portion of the sidewalk. It didn’t end there, either. When the little Princess had finished making her “doo doo” he'd gushed on and on about how great that was too. Hand to god, the man clapped his hands and kissed her on her nose and she'd licked him right back.

This is why I’m not a pets person. Dogs, cats or otherwise.

I turned the handle on the heavy red wooden door and coughed a little as the scent of some seriously thick incense combined with the stale smell that only old books could provide invaded my nostrils. Even after walking in here day after day for two months, I still wasn’t completely used to the unique fragrances that came with “Brewers Book Emporium.”

I squeezed past the first stand of books and made my way around the stacks to where I could just make out a hand with black polished talons poking out over the edge.

“Morning, Vee,” I said to the brassy red hair I could see over the top of a copy of A Photographer's Guide to the Great Lochs of the Scottish Highlands.

“Edward.”

I took the little brass key on its near threadbare green ribbon from her finger and snuck a square of the bitter dark chocolate that was always laying on the counter.

“You still owe me a block from last week.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, grinning as I popped the sweet in my mouth, content to let it slowly melt like I did every other day.

I headed down my familiar rambling path, righting books that were on the verge of spilling their pages from over-stuffed shelves and off center stacks. If there was one thing I knew about Vicky and her little out of the way shop, she really didn’t give a crap about looks. Aesthetics weren’t of any use to her at all, you wanted a book, then you damn sure better want to spend a day looking for it.

I kicked a suspicious looking fur ball from off the first step and headed up the threadbare carpeted stairwell to my home away from home. I knew every creak, every loose board and nail on these stairs. After walking up and down them so often once I’d found this place, I could probably navigate it blindfolded. It didn’t take me long to get to the top, shuffling past the first few shelves and into the magical place beyond. A place I wasn’t even sure Vee herself new about, judging by the two inch layer of dust that covered just about everything. Then again, I’d never actually seen Vee leave the counter either. Or her face for that matter, she was always hidden behind some large volume of text or images.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me, the air conditioning upstairs somehow more of an arctic chill than the comfortably cool downstairs, the sweat that had gathered down my back and caused my crazy red brown hair to stick to my forehead and neck chilling with the change in temperature. It was soothing in comparison to the sickly heat from outside before. Another reason why I loved coming here, even on the hottest day in August, this place was an oasis. In more ways than one.

I threw my bag filled with today’s necessities onto the crushed red velvet lounge that was tucked into the corner of the small room. I loved it up here, no one ever wandered up the stairs to this slightly dingy part of the shop. They all assumed it was an office or stock room. In truth, it was probably meant to be either of those, but I'd come to realize that Vee really didn't care too much about making a profit. Which meant she didn't mind me being here all day, every day and using her shop like my own private library.

It wasn't that I didn't like to socialize. It was more the fact that all I did all day in my everyday normal life was socialize. I owned a bar, a pretty popular bar, that I hadn't had a break from since the day it had opened seven years ago. I talked and talked and talked to strangers wanting to tell me their woes, share with me their highs and everything else in between. Some days it seemed like all I ever did was talk. Even my dreams were laced with nondescript faces shouting and coercing me into bland conversations that didn't end until my alarm went off.

Then I'd go to work and as soon as I step foot through the threshold, someone's voice would be calling my name. This spring, I'd had enough. I finally had a great staff with which I felt comfortable entrusting my pride and joy - and only source of income. James, my Assistant Manager had a good eye for any trouble before it started and didn't take shit from anyone. Jasper, my resident flirt of a bartender was popular with both the female and male population, but was happily married to our book keeper Alice so I never had to worry about any law suits. I had great door security with Sam and Felix, who only had to flex their muscles to have grown men weeping. I'd had to leave for a week for my parents' anniversary and in that time, nothing bad happened, in fact they'd turned over even more than we usually made so I knew that I was leaving my place in good hands.

Alice had been at me to take some time off, so after a few drinks with her and Jasper one night after work, we cleared my schedule for a few weeks. Well, not really a few weeks, more like three months. The whole summer. She wanted me to book a real holiday. A cruise around the Bahamas - I was as white as a sheet and the sun and I had never really gotten along, so that wasn't likely to happen. A tour around Europe, I'd been and done that the year after I'd finished High School. I had no desire to do it all again. I mean, there's only so many times you can see the Arc de Triomphe or gaze at Michelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel. All I wanted was some peace and quiet.

So I lied. For all anyone knew I was on some hippy retreat up in the Himalayas, when in reality I was holed up in my house at night catching up on a multitude of TV shows that I hadn't seen since I started the club and in the day, well, the day was my favorite. I'd stumbled along the streets one day, not really paying attention to much at all when a flyer caught my eye. This random piece of paper was fluttering in the breeze and just when my fingers had caught the edge of it, it flew down this tiny alleyway.

Now, I'm not one who usually walks blindly down some side street, but it was like my feet had a mind of their own. This piece of red paper stuck to Vee's door and after I walked in, walked around and discovered that there really wasn't anyone there at all, and the fact that Vee didn't have on any of that fucking annoying background music playing - she was into reliving the greats not the one hit wonders - it became my hideout.

It had been my sanctuary from everyone and everything and I absolutely loved it, right up until two weeks ago, when she walked in.

Black boots.

Fucking Black Boots was the worst part of my day. She never had a specific time of arrival. She never stayed for a specific amount of time. Sometimes she was here nearly as long as I was. Sometimes she was in and out and the only reason I knew she had even been was the sound of her black boots resonating in that familiar thud, thud, thud down the stairs. For fifteeen days now she had plagued me, and still I had yet to see her face.

I knew she was a she from the voice I heard once, the seventh day of her untimely visits, that wound its way up the staircase from below. The CD was between tracks and her laughter was full and throaty and not followed by a ten minute garbled cough that I knew was Vee's. Vee still hadn't stopped smoking even though she knew she had emphysema, something about it not killing her before so it might as well kill her now if she had to die of something.

I knew she was a she from the time I'd caught the tops of her shapely calves that tucked into said awful black boots as she'd breezed past me on the couch one day. By the time I realized that another person was actually up here with me and not some sort of apparition, she was back down the stairs and gone. She interupted my day with her ill timed visits and that bugged me to no end. Now, just as I had finally gotten seated, a familiar dull stomping reached my ears.

Fucking Black Boots.

I rolled my eyes at no one except the words in front of me and shifted my arms so the book covered most of my face. I didn't want to see her. I was intrigued, for sure. Yet she was the animosity in my calm and tranquil. She was the annoying singular mosquito in the tent that you just can't get rid of in the middle of the night. In ignoring her, I hoped she'd go away and just leave me alone. My eyes blurred over the words I knew well, and I turned page after page not really able to pay attention anymore.

Because the boots. Had stopped their walking.

I didn't know how far away she was, only that she was here in the room with me. So it meant whatever privacy I sought, she was yet again invading. I cursed those black boots. Just as much as I cursed the owner that was walking around in them. I peeked under the edge of the hard cover, searching what little space I had to see where she had gone. I didn't want to look blatantly obvious in my need to know of her whereabouts.

The last thing I wanted to look was interested.
Not one iota.
I just wanted her gone.

Imagine my surprise though, when those same annoying black boots were right in my line of vision, spaced evenly out beside my water bottle on the floor.
She cleared her throat and I gulped, feeling like some fat kid getting caught in the kitchen with my hand in the cookie jar.

"That's a great book."

I stared at her pointed toe, what did she say?

"Pardon?" I managed, sounding as terrified as I suddenly felt.

I didn't want to look up. There were few females I'd met in my life that wore black boots such as these and they hardly ever - i.e. NEVER - belonged to something with a pretty face. No, these boots screamed biker's old hag with a face like a tired leather bag left out in the sun too long. I really didn't want to look up.

I looked up.
Well, hello angel.

Perfect heart shaped face, full blood red lips, high cheek bones with dark brown eyes that were now crinkled with what I was sure was amusement at my current situation. Her mahogany locks were pulled up high leaving only bangs for her long eyelashes to struggle with every time she blinked. Definitely not a biker chick. No, she was, in a word...

Fuckhot.

"Sorry, I guess I should introduce myself," she said, holding out more red in the form of glossy polished nails thrust in my direction. I rested my book in my lap and took her hand in mine, instantaneously feeling this buzz burst between us. Like I was holding onto a live wire that only sent out pleasurable electrical pulses.

What the fuck was that.

"Bella."

"Edward."

She smiled and my heart started jumping and skipping beats in its rush to keep up with the thoughts racing through my head. I saw her lips wrapped around my name screaming in ecstasy, I felt her hand covering my dick as she moved to take me inside her, I watched her full breasts rise and fall as she rode me.

Yep, all that in a smile.

What can I say, I do read a lot of books and have a very overactive imagination.

The silence stretched between us as her eyes met mine. They were luminous, like someone had melted chocolate and stirred in some butter, all glossy and deep brown with golden flecks. She smiled, I smiled. She had the sweetest little dimple in her left cheek and I fought the urge to lick it. Really, I'd just met the girl. Well, just opened my mouth and talked to her anyhow - how could
I be thinking things like this!

Bella folder her hands across her waist, pushing her quite voluptous breasts out and I remembered why I could think like this. I hadn't got laid in over six months... shit, no before that, maybe eleven? That dark haired Italian chick who swore loudly in her native tongue as she came.

Wow, even I knew that was lame. I own a successful business, I don't look that bad for my age, hell I even own my own brownstone! Well, I would when I finished paying the bank back twenty years from now.

I just needed some of that good old Cullen confidence.

"You like poetry?"

"Sorry?"

She nodded at my book, and for a moment I actually forgot I had one in my hands.

I looked down, clearing my throat before I answered, "Yes, I have pretty eclectic tastes, but I do like the classics."

"Me too. I've been looking around for a specific title, Vee said that it would be up here somewhere, but. . ." Her hand moved to indicate the mess of books that surrounded us and I chuckled in response.

"Yeah, I get that. Have you tried not looking for it? I find that helps sometimes."

She licked her lips. "I don't know, I've been up here for over two weeks now and I can't seem to find it. Though, I did find something that took my interest." Her gaze was hidden from mine by long thick lashes as she placed her hand on the arm of the couch above my feet.
Interest. Two weeks. Me? "Oh, sorry." I shifted my feet and sat up. "Did you want to sit awhile?"

She nodded and I noticed a few perfect white teeth sink into her full bottom lip. Thank god for this book above my lap, that's all I can say about Pantsward's reaction to that sight!
I shuffled over and tried not to stare as she carefully rearranged her skirt after sitting cross legged on the cushion beside me. It was a long lounge, I mean, I could fit most of my body lengthwise on it and I was a tall guy - but I could feel the heat of her like a naked flame along my side from her close proximity.

We were quiet again, only two sets of breaths - and in my imagination - two racing heart beats filling the space apart from the sound of Etta James floating up from downstairs. It was a nice quiet. One that was still fueled by a little tension at this being something new, but nice all the same. I suppose we had virtually been around each other - if not talking but like two ships passing in the night - for a while now. It would be expected to have some sort of familiarity. Even if it was just me staring at those damn black boots which I now realized were sexy as fuck on the woman who appeared to be poured into her entire ebony ensemble. Tight fitted skirt, off the shoulder sweater and only a red leather watch to match the sinfully crimson lips to break up the color.

The dark fabric she wrapped herself in seemed to only accentuate the pale almost radiant glow of her skin. She was black and white and red all over and as much as it would sound monotonous and plain to some, it was bold and brave to me.

"I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet),
I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true),
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant,
and whatever a sun will always sing is you."

I looked back at her from my current staring competition with the bookcase across from us - what appeared to be a stack of encyclopeadias of all things - and was momentarily lost in her gaze.

"What was that?" I asked, watching her eyes widen for a moment before a funny smirk played across her rouged lips.

"Cummings. It's one of my favorites."

"Oh."

"You don't know it?" she said, tilting her head to the side, her pony tail swishing with the movement.

I shook my head. "It doesn't sound familiar, no. I'm not big on Cummings, actually."

"Really."

Now why did that sound like a question? Was she playing with me?

Another silence, less awkward than the last and only lasting a short while before she shifted closer to me on the seat. The naked flame from before was now charring my skin into dust. The affect she was having on me was unreal.

"I really like that thing in your ear."

My hand moved to finger the round stone that she had mentioned, "This thing?"

She nodded, her fingers twitching on her lap like they wanted to take the place of mine. "What is it?"

"It's a plug, you use them to stretch your piercing." I blinked twice, my eyes shifting to the book in my lap and away from her studious gaze. Suddenly I felt really nervous over something that I considered such a small part of who I was. Did she like body mod? Was this something that she thought I could do without?

"Yeah, I know, I just wondered what it was. It looks like wood." She didn't stop her fingers this time, they brushed mine out of the road and stroked the shell of my ear before pausing to caress the lobe.

It was hard not to let my eyes roll into the back of my head and purr like a fucking kitten when she touched me. It was so innocent, yet at the same time felt much more intimate than it probably should have. My body buzzed with just this tiny amount of contact of skin on skin. The book in my lap - previously forgotten about - was now hiding the beginings of my dick's response to just her fingertips on me in the smallest way.

"It's," I cleared my throat after my voice decided to break over that first word, "It's Tiger's Eye. A semi precious stone. A lot of people mistake it for petrified wood because of the grain."

"Oh," she nodded, pulling lightly on my ear until I turned toward the grainy filtered light coming from the round window behind the couch. I tried to look at her face but she'd leaned in so close that all I could see was the alabaster skin of her neck. The tiny curls that framed the edges of her hair that tumbled down in large waves from her high ponytail.

"It's beautiful. The same color as your eyes." She pulled back and I realized just how close we were to each other as the tip of her nose grazed mine.

"Really?" I breathed, my voice taking on this husky tenor that I never knew existed before. I could feel my heart racing in my chest as her hand slipped along my neck to rest on my shoulder.

She nodded again, her rosy red lips parted slightly. "Very." She sounded as affected by this . . . whatever this was going on between us as I was.

"You think so, no one's ever made that connection before." I swallowed a knot of nervous tension balled in my throat. All the annoyance of being interupted in my little oasis was turned into not wanting to screw up what was beginning to be something a lot more between us.

"Yeah, your eyes they're like burnt toffee, caramel even. I like them."

I could feel the heat of her lips hovering just outside my own. It would be so easy, so damn easy just kiss her right now. I wanted to, damn did I want to.

"Edward?"

Who?
Oh.
Me.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to kiss me already?" I could feel her shivering underneath my hand, I slipped it from her shoulder up to cup her face, my fingers weaving into the hair I'd previously been focused on. It was like silk and I wanted to do nothing more but reach up and free it from the tied restraints that held it back. We barely knew each other, hell this was the first time I'd seen her face, but there was just something between us. Something that couldn't be denied.

Wait a minute, did she say kiss?

"Kiss you?"

"Yes, because if you don't I think I might just burst."

"Oh." My tongue darted out to wet my lips and caressed the bottom of hers, we were already that close. With a groan on my part and a gasp from her, we came together.
Lips and teeth and tongue and hands in hair and fingernails scraping, knees knocking against one another as she pushed me back against the couch. I don't know how she got the upperhand but somehow she was on top of me, her lithe body pressed firmly against my own. I held her face in my hands as I explored it with my lips. She tasted soft and sweet and like the mists rising from the street after a summer storm. I could feel every inch of where her body joined mine, like her touch was literally burning into my flesh through my clothes.

I wanted her to burn me, mark me, make me hers even if it was just here and now.

I wanted her to take and take and take and in turn I would do the same.

My hands slipped down her arms and around her tiny waist, my fingers grabbing hungrily at the material that was seperating me from her. I needed to touch her skin, make some sort of connection to the way she was making me feel as her hips gyrated slowly above mine. Her teeth nipped along my jaw. Her tongue swirled around my Adama's apple before moving over the small v of skin showing above my undershirt. Why, oh, why was I wearing so many layers again?

I wanted, needed to have her feel all of me, and me all of her.

It wasn't right, it wasn't a thought someone should even think of entertaining in regard to a total stranger. But when said total stranger is making you harder than a rock and bringing out feelings and emotions in your head that you never thought were possible, it's kind of hard not to want to be naked. No one came up here, no one had come up here in the past two months except her.

And Christ was she ever the exception.

"Edward, please. Naked, here. Please." Her words were harsh and wanting to my ears as she tore at my clothes. Bella tugged my jacket off my shoulders, stopping only at my elbows before ripping at the thin white cotton covering my chest. This would be so much easier if we could tear ourselves away from each other for a single moment. Yet that appeared not to be an option.

I could only whisper "yes" in return as my lips covered every inch of her within reach, like my mouth was making a map of her skin. So much to learn, so much to discover. So many fucking clothes.

"Want you. So bad, for so long, so much."

I moaned as she shifted back, her knee wedging between me and the seat back so she was now sitting astride my hips. She was so close that I could feel the heat between her legs like a furnace straight over my dick. I fought the urge to lift my hips up against hers, to find the friction that I so desperately needed as she pulled the thin cotton material at my chest up and out of my khaki pants. Her short fingernails scraping over my hard earned muscled stomach. Bella's head leaned in low so she was virtually folded in upon herself as her lips explored each newly revealed patch of skin the higher her hands managed to pull my shirt. Her small frustrated whimpers had me moving to sit up when she couldn't move the fabric any further, her lips turning pouty as a low pitched whine escaped them.

Our new position had her pussy in even closer contact with my still cloth-encased dick and Pantsward certainly was not appreciative. I pulled my arms out of my jacket, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor beside me as she worked the white cotton tee up and off the rest of my body.

"So fucking beautiful," she murmured, her eyelids hooded and mouth agape, chest moving in and out with heavy breaths that I knew I too was having trouble keeping up with.

My hands found their way to her hair, tugging on the simple red ribbon and letting loose her perfect chesnut hair in waves down her back, cascading around her face. I had no words for how she looked, so I borrowed some.

"O fleece, that down the neck waves to the nape!
O curls! O perfume nonchalant and rare!
O ecstasy! To fill this alcove shape,
With memories that in these tresses sleep,
I would shake them like penions in the air!"

She giggled her fingers tracing light patterns across my chest, swirls that were like a red hot iron, branding my skin with every whorl and complicated twist. I fisted her hair in one hand and brought her lips to mine, needing to taste her once more. Breathe in her breaths and devour her in the only way I knew how. She was grinding her ass against me and I never wanted her to stop. Or I wanted her to stop only long enough for both of us to be a little less clothed.

"Christ, you taste like chocolate,"

"Vicky." She smiled against my lips, her tiny hands toying with the waist band of my pants, moving lower to palm me swift and sure, making Pantsward jump in response. I moaned, "Bella, please."

I didn't know what I was begging for, but I begged all the same. She must have figured it out anyhow as she wriggled back her fingers scratching down my chest before popping open the button on my fly. I can't even begin to tell you how excited my dick was by that move. I ran my hands down her torso to the soft milky skin of her thighs, pushing up her tight black skirt until she had to lift her ass and I discovered with delight the red satin panties she wore. Satin, my weakness... so soft, not as soft as the skin I was currently gliding my fingertips over, but it did things to my insides. More importantly to my dick. I needed her fingers to work faster over my
zip, it was getting uncomfortable down there.

"Edward, oh, Edward."

The way she said my name had my heart beating faster than I thought physically possible. I loved hearing it. I wanted to hear it again and again so I slipped my hands around her waist and down over her pert ass and gave it a squeeze. Expecting to feel the same material against my fingertips I found none.

Oh thank you sweet Baby Jebus she's wearing a thong!

I pawed at the plump skin of her bare cheeks as she moaned, finally getting the zipper down enough so that her hand could seize my cock. My body was on fire and the white hot heat of it all emanated from where her flesh was in contact with mine. Jesus, she needed to be naked, I needed to see more of her. Feel all of her.

"Wait, Bella. Just wait." She paused, biting on that fucking lip again so much so that I now noticed she'd worn, or our rampant make out session had worn away most of the red, leaving a dark stain behind. I was already obsessed with her lips. Another poem sprung to mind, and I wondered if she'd guess the verse.

"Hazel eyes and ruby red lips,
Red hair I want to caress with my fingertips."

I reached up and gently pulled her lip free, tracing my thumb from one side to the other of the plump pillow like flesh.

"That smile of innocence jumps right at me,
Like a sly fox ready to attack me."

I didn't think I'd be able to get out the rest as she quickly took my thumb into her mouth with a triumphant smirk. Obviously she was taking my words literally. Her tongue swirled over the rough skin there sending thoughts of a similar and hopefully soon coming exploration on my dick instead. Teeth grazed lightly over the tip and I choked on a moan, my voice having turned deep and gravely with the need she brought out in me. I was a man driven by lust with only words and touch to edge her on.

"I’m just trying to catch my sigh," she pouted as I freed my thumb from her tongue's asault, moving my fingers to the bottom of her sweater, slowly rolling the soft, maybe cashmere material over her chest.

"My heart is dancing in a moonlit sky." Her hands took over from mine and she pulled the material off the rest of the way, her chesnut curls tumbling around her bare skin. There was so much startling contrast when it came to this girl. The bitter coffee browns, the alabaster whites . . . and then the berry bitten reds.

Oh, there is a god. The twin globes were encased in the same ruby fabric that her bottom half was. I leaned in, unable to stop myself from tracing my tongue along the lace edge that perfectly clung to her skin. She tasted like raspberries and summer winds that would fill with the earthy spice scents from the little Indian restaurant two blocks down from my house. I wondered for a moment if she'd let me lick the quiet spaces of her skin to see if she tasted like that all over. Her elbow, that crease behind her knee, the downy underside of her breast, would they be the same or sweeter?

Or the velvety warm places, the jewel in the female orgasmic crown. Would that be honey mixed with pink salt and sage? My hands had stilled at her waist but with these thoughts in mind I slipped my fingers down between her legs, stroking her heat through the thin barrier of scarlet fabric that separated me from my interest. She shuddered above me, her lips on my forehead, teeth nibbling over the shell of my ear. Bella's burning touch over my shoulders and back, wherever she could reach.

"Don't stop. Edward... oh, please."

I could feel her warm breath on my neck just as the tips of my fingers slid the smooth cloth to the side, caressing her slick slit that burned like liquid fire on my skin the further I felt. Bella's head fell onto my shoulder, her breath cool on my damp flesh as I explored her warmth, her hidden places. She was soft like velvet, smooth like silk and wet, so fucking wet. I teased her entrance with the barest of touches, playing her swollen nub with my thumb as two fingers slide further inside, feeling her tremble and quake, pulling me in. Throwing me under.

I was lost.

"Edward . . . so good, yes just like... don't stop."

I pressed my lips to her shoulder, the arch of her neck. The hand I'd left at her waist moving up to pinch a pert nipple through its satin cover. She cried out, her teeth grazing the round of my shoulder. Bella shifted, pressing her body against my hand, setting a rhythm that would only further expedite her release. I wanted her to come. I wanted her to come because of me. Because of my hands, my touch, my words.

"Oh, I'm, I'm..." No further words were needed, within a few strokes of my fingers curled inside, twisting and rubbing against that secret place, she came apart around me. She pulled my hand from between her legs, gazing at me with hooded eyes that screamed fuck me now and proceeded to lick the essence of her recent release slowly from my fingertips.

It was the hottest, most erotic thing I think I've ever been witness to. Damn did I wish she had of left some for me.

"Edward," she said, my name like a breath from her lips. "Edward."

I trailed my hands softly up and down her spine, relishing the feel of her damp skin against mine. Every lump and bump of bone hidden by luminous white skin. Her fingers back at my zipper, freeing Pantsward from his prison - a place that had became far more painful with the less space he had to live in, the larger he grew. She looked down between us, grinning and flicking her tongue over her swollen lips. I bent my head to capture those perfect cherry treats once more and could taste the remnants of her there. She stroked me softly, perfectly and had my hips already lifting off the couch and forcing myself into her hand.

"My - my bag."

She nodded, understanding my need for safety precautions even in this completely unexpected, but very welcome set of circumstances. I leaned over to the side, fingers blindly moving objects around until I found the little square I'd been looking for. She took it, ripping it quickly with her teeth before I felt the latex sliding down my length. Bella's tiny hands wrapped around my cock, stroking me up and down while her wicked brown eyes never left mine. Her lips trembling much as my body was, readying ourselves for what was to come. I felt her shift, rising above my lap, one hand coming to my shoulder to steady herself as my hands met her waist. Oh god, I didn't want to wait anymore. I could feel the tension, that exquisite apprehension that signaled change.
She was heat, so much fucking heat and sound and smell and touch and as she ran the head of my cock along her slippery folds I struggled to keep my composure. Bella teased herself, brushing the tip over her swollen flesh. Then I was there, she had me there and my thumbs drew slow circles over her hipbones as she took me in.

I was on fire, I was made of flame and pleasure as she started to move. I'd never felt anything this perfect, this perfect space that fit me like a glove. Like she was made for me and it was earth shattering. I caught her lips with mine, our tongues tangling with explorations and joy as she moved above me, taking me in again and again and I didn't want her to stop.

Too much, not enough. We had no words, we barely had air as the normally cool air around us changed, permeated with our lust, our want. Filled to the brim with our moans and whispers of syllables only dogs or cats could hear. Her name was all I had, the only thing I held onto as I slipped my hand back down between us, circling her warm wet skin with slow care until I could feel her walls fluttering against me. My name was a mantra that she repeated over and over. "So good, so close, oh .. oh.. please.. yes!"

"Edward!"

My hips lifted against hers until she shattered around me once more. Lost in feelings that together we created she collapsed against my chest, her whimpers the only sign that she hadn't passed out completely as I sought my release.

"Bella." The word fell from my lips like an affirmation. I whispered it again and again, writing it into the air, branding it into the furniture around us. Sealing it into my skin as her lips created trails across my chest, my shoulder, all the bare sweat covered skin that she could. I never wanted to stop saying her name. Even as I came inside her, shaking with the animalistic roar that left my chest her name was still on repeat inside my mind. The letters that made up the word flashed in white light across my eyelids and glowed neon bright still in the dark as I came down.

We were here. We shared this moment. This beautiful existence. This tiny magical portion of time. It belonged to us. Like her pleasure was my pleasure. Her need was my need, her want my want. It was perfect. It was magnificent. It was undecipherable.

Minutes or hours passed and we lay together, her chest against mine after I disposed of the condom, unceremoniously into a tissue I found in a side pocket of my bag. Her lips and mine occasionally pressing on overheated skin. Her fingertips swirling over my chest and upper arms. Mine writing stanzas of amazement over her spine. I wanted to write prose about her flushed skin, compose haiku about her crimson lips. But I couldn't find the words, I'd given them all to her.

All too soon, our bubble of bliss was deflating as the arctic temperatures that the central air delivered up here sent a chill over our naked bodies. I reached down, grabbing my coat and pulled it around her, before sliding back on the little couch, letting my head rest against the arm's bolster as Bella shifted between my legs. I didn't want to move, being so comfortably numb laying here with this amazing woman on top of me.

"I hate to ask, but could you just sit up a moment? There's this, thing poking into my neck." She giggled and used the back of the couch to shift her body upward. I lifted my hand from her back and tugged at the offending item until it sprung quickly up and landed on my chest, narrowly missing Bella's face.

"So that's where it got to." I grinned a little sheepishly. I had thought the book I'd been reading had fallen to the floor.

Bella shook her head, pulling the hardcover around and flipping through the pages, finally letting out a sigh, shaking her head once more. She bent forward, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that started out slow and sweet but was rapidly heading toward something more before pulling back, leaving me wanting.

"Poetry hey, Edward."

I frowned, I could see what was written on the cover as she closed the book, dropping it on the floor.

"That's who it was by, wasn't it? Some of your favorite poet is in there if I do so recall."
She lay her cheek back on my chest, above my still racing heart.

"It might say that on the cover, but unless I'm mistaken, poetry can be hot, but not exactly the erotic novel I just skimmed through."

I felt my face redden as Bella's body vibrated with her laughter.

"What can I say, I thought the cover was appropriate. Cummings and all."


--}Uncovered{--
-----------

--Happy Birthday Anna! Hope your 29+1 year is all that and a bag of oreos--
--love and lyrics and music and snugs--
-- Womby xoxo --

Pretty Words Used...
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) - E. E. Cummings
Her Hair - Charles Baudelaire
Ruby Red Lips - Alfred Ramos

p.s, Kwala sprinkled this with her magic cookie crumbs and even though she KNOWS how I feel about this, she can do what she wants because she is like Oz, all knowing and powerful, and much like a great Beatles song ' and I love her'