Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer & Little Brown Publishing own all rights
It had been exactly twelve days since my everything had occurred at the estate.
Twelve days since my brother had gone to jail.
Twelve days since I’d last seen Edward Cullen.
In the past twelve days, I had often questioned myself and my decision to hire Edward in the first place. I found out something that maybe I was better off not knowing. Instead of losing one member of my family, I had lost two.
Was knowing what had happened worth it? It was, but sometimes I had a hard time convincing myself.
The Cadillac Fleetwood smoothly glided down the road with the windows rolled down, headed toward Englewood. Toward Edward. A warm breeze danced through the car, the smell of the exhaust from other cars wafted through. Unseasonably warm February days were rare in Chicago. However, Mother Nature graced us and people were taking full advantage. Laughter and happy shrieks from children on a nearby playground made me smile when we had stopped at a corner. The outside noise mingled with “A Good Man Is Hard to Find,” which played softly on the radio. Music was a welcome change from the constant news reports regarding my family and La Bella. I sighed and took in everything. The warmer weather made me feel warmer inside as well. Almost as though I was thawing. It was a welcome change.
The newspapers and radio were flooded with the events regarding my father’s death and Jasper’s involvement. Edward had been hailed a hero. From what I could tell, he wasn’t commenting to anyone regarding the case. With the negative press, the positive came as well. La Bella sales hit an all time high and we had been diligently working to push the newest ad campaign, “A Matter of Face.” Work was keeping me busy and offered me a distraction from thinking about my family mess. Not from him, though.
Emmett was able to contact Stevie through some mutual acquaintances and together we met him at Lou Mitchell’s. I took Emmett up on his offer to join me during that meeting. The purpose was to give him the money that Jasper owed. I was fairly certain that it wasn’t Stevie who was looking for the money; if it were, he probably would have said something the night of the Gala. However, I was fairly certain that he had ways of finding out and passing it along to the right person. I asked him to make sure Jasper’s name was clear. He seemed to know something, though, because he acted like he understood that it was a matter of life and death for Jasper. He assured me that he wouldn’t have Jasper “welshing” on a bet. While Emmett went to get the car, Stevie pinched my cheek and then my backside and told me to consider it done.
I’d gone to visit Jasper soon after the police took him away from the estate and he had apologized once again to me. We met at the county jail and we sat together, in a cold room with hard chairs. He said he had never intended on hurting me the way that he did; that he hadn’t been thinking clearly. I had told him that what hurt more than anything was that he felt there was no other option, no other way to deal with things than the way he did. I wished he had come and talked to me a month ago. We’d all be in quite a different position. His hands were joined together with the handcuffs yet when he reached out for mine, I could not deny him. Holding my hands in his, he begged for my forgiveness. Daddy had always told me it was important to forgive and forget. That’s where he and I disagreed. I forgave Jasper. I could not forget. I would not forget.
My thoughts shifted back to Edward as I took my compact out of my purse and looked at my face in the mirror, opting to leave the powder puff in it’s place. I had left La Bella a bit early so I could make it to the bank to get the rest of his payment. With all of the media surrounding Daddy’s death and Jasper’s arrest, I figured it was best to solely focus on work directly after everything had happened. I had Jacob place a call to Edward, telling him that I would be by today with the remainder of his money but he hadn’t answered the phone. I was hoping that I would catch him. After all that happened at the estate, I knew I had been standoffish and cold to him the last time I saw him. Looking back at that day, I behaved appallingly toward him. I never had the chance to apologize. We had left on a bad note and it was eating me alive.
I wondered if he would be happy to see me. I wondered if the spark would still be there. I wondered if he’d want what I wanted. I wonder if he wants me the way that I want him.
As he had done nearly two weeks ago, Emmett pulled the car to a stop in front of Edward’s building. He moved to get out of the car. I looked at the rear view mirror that was on a stand, close to his head and saw him watching me. “Don’t bother, Emmett. I’m fine and it’s not necessary.” He looked slightly concerned but didn’t move from his spot in the front seat. Making a last minute decision, I continued, “Please feel free to head home. I’ll call if I need you or I’ll get a cab.” He didn’t turn in his seat but I could tell he was mulling it over, running his hand over the back of his neck as he often did while he thought.
He acquiesced, “I’ll watch from here to make sure you get in safely. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.”
“Thank you, Emmett. For everything.” He had been my rock throughout the past few weeks. The entire staff had taken care of me. Not coddling, as it wasn’t in my nature to be coddled. Just gentle reminders to eat, sitting with me and not letting me wallow. While I had been orphaned, I wasn’t truly alone.
I was hoping that there was one more person willing to take me on, even after I had treated him so poorly twelve days ago.
I quickly hurried up the steps, running my hand along the railing as I did. From my vantage point on the steps, I could see the window to his apartment was open wide and I heard the radio announcer babbling away, most probably about my family. Not wasting any time, I hurried into Edward’s building, anxious to see him. I was there under the pretense of delivering the rest of his payment for his detective services, but I truly hoped this meeting would bring so much more.
Standing at his door, I hesitated slightly before announcing my arrival. My hands flitted to my hair and they smoothed it, patting at the barrel rolls I had painstakingly pinned in my hair that morning. I wanted to make sure everything was just so, despite him telling me that he liked my natural appearance. I had put on the single strand of white pearls that Daddy had given me for my sixteenth birthday and I gently ran a finger over them, thinking once more of my dear father. Taking a deep breath, I firmly knocked on the door.
“Door’s open,” I heard him grumble on the other side.
I had thought the same thing when we first met at the diner. Only I was quite aware that this wasn’t a show. I was ready to put my feelings on the line and could only pray that I wouldn’t get hurt once more. I wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable and I had already been hurt enough the last month.
I swung the door open slowly, my hand wrapped around the edge of the door. My eyes found him easily in the small room, sitting at his desk and glaring at the radio. I couldn’t help but wonder what the radio had done to offend him. His arm stopped mid-reach toward the Victrola as though he was about to turn it off before I had interrupted. His eyes met mine. I was surprised to see the raw emotion they held for in the past he had always been so quick to keep the wall between us. Quickly, they raked over my body and his outstretched hand retreated from the radio and raked through his hair. He had a paper open in front of him on the desk and I could see a copy of my face in black and white, peering up at him from the pages. The stubble on his face gave away the fact that he hadn’t shaved in a few days. An unlit cigarette rested behind his ear and there was an overflowing ashtray that rested next to the newspaper. The place was a bit of a mess. He was a bit of a mess.
Despite that, he looked good to me.
“Rosie,” he breathed out. With that one word, I knew. Rosie. He wants me as much as I want him. If he didn’t he surely would have used Rosalie or Miss Hale.
“Hello, Edward,” I purred in greeting, unable to contain the smile that flitted across my lips. I remembered his comment at the Gala regarding my coat and moved to take off the swing coat that covered my wrap dress. His eyes widened slightly and then narrowed, his jaw clenching. The man is a detective for Pete’s sake, of course he knows exactly what I’m doing.
After depositing my coat on the screen over Jasper’s tuxedo, I stood in front of the door. I ran my hand along the wood of the door and quickly turned the lock behind my back. I shivered slightly, although it was not at all cold in his apartment. In fact, his gaze was hot and burning. I’m fairly certain I was returning a similar look.
“We never really got a chance to talk after the night of the Gala,” I moved in front of his desk and rested my hands on top of it, leaning toward where he was sitting. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes roam down toward the v-neck of my dress and slowly back up to my face.
“No, we didn’t. You seemed a bit preoccupied the following morning, and then there was…” he trailed off, looking uncertain and not at all like himself. His hand moved back and forth between us, “everything else. I thought you wanted to be left alone.”
“I appreciate the sentiment but I’ve been alone for too long. I’m done pussyfooting-” The uncertain look was gone as I saw him smirk at my word choice. Moving to his side of the desk, I lightly slapped his arm, letting my hand rest on it, not wanting to stop touching him. “Ugh, men!” I exclaimed, rolling my eyes. I amended my statement, “I’m done tiptoeing around this. I know the case is over, but I’m not ready to give you up. I was hoping that maybe…”
He leaned back on the rolling chair and pulled at the hand that had been on his arm and caught my waist with the other, pulling me so I sat sideways on his lap. He brought his mouth close to my ear, his warm breath sweeping around it, and answered with the words I was longing to hear him say once more, “I’ve already told you Rosie, I’m not letting you go.”
I let out the air I didn’t realize I was holding and beamed at him. He continued to hold me on his lap, surrounding me with his arms. It felt like home.
“How’s everything at the estate? Have they been taking care of you? Given you everything that you need?”
“Not everything…” I let the thought linger. I could feel his arousal under me.
Looking at his desk, I saw the check I had written him twelve days prior, propped up under the lamp. Not moving from his lap, my free hand reached out and plucked it from the desk. It was then that I saw another check had been stacked behind it, which fluttered to the floor. It was the payment I had written almost two weeks earlier.
“You didn’t cash them?” I asked, trying to sound stern yet failing as I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“No and I probably won’t.” He brought his hand to my hair and stroked it. My nose moved closer to his neck and I breathed in his scent.
I pressed the issue. “You should cash them. Deposit the payments. Something. I brought the rest with me, cash this time.”
“Keep it,” he said softly, his fingers gliding through strands of my hair.
“No, I don’t think I can do that Edward. You figured it out, solved the case. Even though it wasn’t something I wanted to hear, it was something that I needed to hear.”
The hand that was stroking my hair moved down my arm and around my side. He held me tighter. I no longer wanted to talk about the money or the case.
“I missed you, Edward,” I whispered, effectively changing the subject and getting to the true reason why I was there with him. I knew it was blunt but I was done being coy. Done playing the games. I needed him to know.
“It was getting harder to stay away,” he admitted as he brushed his nose against my throat.
I started to say something but his lips caught mine and I forgot about talking, pressing my lips to his. He pulled back just slightly and I felt his lips smiling against mine.
He wants me.
And I needed to have him.
It had been twelve days.
Twelve fucking excruciating days.
I wasn’t counting, I didn’t need to. That bastard reporter on the radio, Randall Roberts, made a point of keeping track of it for me, just like he was doing right now as he described where she had gone for lunch today and what time she’d left her offices downtown. I could have turned off the Victrola, but that was like convincing a raging alcoholic to dump his 100 year old scotch down the drain. To make matters worse, the Tribune had her picture plastered all over the front page for the last ten days, using her beauty to sell papers, and break my fucking heart some more.
Twelve days had forced me to face facts, and the fact was; I had it bad. Worse than I’d ever thought was possible, and way fucking worse than I ever wanted to admit.
There were other reminders of her lying around my apartment too. Jasper’s freshly dry cleaned tux hung from the silk screen, a black and white memento of the Gala, and the dancing…and how she’d had her complete fucking way with me. Two checks for my detective services sat propped up against the base of the lamp on my desk, her handwriting staring at me. I just couldn’t bring myself to cash them. I almost wished she hadn’t hired me at all. Maybe not knowing the truth would have been better for her, and not meeting her at all might have been better for me.
Maybe you should cash ’em, Cullen. Move to San Fran like you wanted to. Get the hell out of Chicago.
I sat at my desk in my black slacks and undershirt, my white shirt open and un-tucked with sleeves rolled up, and put out the cigarette I’d forgotten I was smoking. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the half open blinds, slicing the smoke from my cigarette into slowly swirling patterns. Today’s edition of the Tribune was lying before me and her eyes, so dull and lifeless in grey newsprint, bore into mine. Randall Roberts finally gave it a rest and played some music but I groaned when I recognized the song, “Honeysuckle Rose.” That damn song may as well have been written for Rosie, and it certainly wouldn’t help me stop fucking thinking about her. Just as I was about to stand and turn off the radio, I heard a firm knock.
“Door’s open,” I called, and the door slowly swung into the room, led by a little hand with fuck-me-red fingernails.
And there she was.
“Hello, Edward,” she murmured as she let herself in, took off her coat and locked the door behind her. She was wearing another one of her flirty fucking dresses, seductively black and tight with little gathers and buttons along one hip. A low cut v-neck revealed her creamy neck and chest, perfectly off set by a strand of shimmering white pearls encircling her throat. My eyes narrowed.Too powerful for her own good.
“We never really got a chance to talk after the night of the Gala,” she said.
“No, we didn’t. You seemed a bit preoccupied the following morning, and then there was…” I trailed off, waving my hand between us awkwardly, “everything else. I thought you wanted to be left alone.”
“I appreciate the sentiment but I’ve been alone for too long. I’m done pussyfooting-” I smirked uncontrollably at hearing the word pussy cross her perfect lips. She slapped me playfully before continuing, “Ugh, men! I’m done tiptoeing around this. I know the case is over, but I’m not ready to give you up. I was hoping that maybe…”
My anxiety over the last twelve days evaporated as she smiled timidly at me. You can bet your ass I was scared, but I’d already risked it all and it was too late to go back. I reached up and caught the hand that had just slapped my shoulder and leaned back in my chair, pulling her down onto my lap.
“I’ve already told you Rosie, I’m not letting you go,” I murmured near her ear and her face lit up with a relieved smile. “How’s everything at the estate? Have they been taking care of you? Given you everything that you need?” I asked.
“Not everything…” she replied, and it was my turn to smile like a moron. She looked over my desk and saw her un-cashed checks and snatched one up, the other fell from the desk to the floor.
“You didn’t cash them?” she asked and rested her her head on my shoulder. Her roses enveloped me. I’d missed that so fucking much.
“No, and I probably won’t,” I said honestly and played with her hair.
“You should cash them. Deposit the payments. Something. I brought the rest with me, cash this time.”
“No, I don’t think I can do that Edward. You figured it out, solved the case. Even though it wasn’t something I wanted to hear, it was something that I needed to hear,” she insisted, which I ignored while I pulled her closer.
“I missed you, Edward,” she confessed in a whisper a moment later.
“It was getting harder to stay away,” I confessed in return and brought my nose against her throat to breathe in her perfume then moved my mouth to hers, kissing her softly. I felt her soften against me and I smiled, thrilled that I had that effect on her. She ran her hand through my hair and plucked out the cigarette I’d forgotten I had behind my ear, tossing it on the desk. The radio changed songs, and my favorite Billie ballad, “I’ll Be Seeing You”, filled the apartment. The song’s blue, longing melancholy amplified our own want, if that was fucking possible. I stopped kissing her and whispered against her lips, “Dance with me, Rose?”
She didn’t speak, she just nodded her forehead against mine, her eyes still shut from the kiss. She took a deep breath and stood, trailing her hand from my right shoulder, down my arm and to my hand. I caught her hand and stood, then brought her hand to my lips, kissing the top of it softly. She smiled over her shoulder, her eyes downcast as she turned to face me. He gaze floated slowly up my frame, lingering for a moment on my jaw before her hooded eyes met mine.
The feeling’s mutual, Rosie.
I stepped into her, drawing her to me and resting my cheek against hers as I started to slowly sway us in rhythm with the music. Her roses permeated the air, and I drank her in like the fucking raging alcoholic with his coveted scotch.
So much better than bourbon.
We held on to each other tightly as we slowly danced around my tiny one room apartment, and she seemed to melt into me as much as I lost myself in her. “Mmmm, Edward,” I heard her whisper into my ear. I pulled my face away to look at her. I brought her to a stop and plucked my handkerchief from my pocket. Carefully, gently, I wiped all her red lipstick away. When I could see the pure pink of her soft lips, I tossed the handkerchief on the desk.
There’s MY Rosie.
I took her face in both my hands, my fingertips dancing across her delicate cheekbones as if they were made of the finest porcelain, and brought my mouth to hers. Her lips molded themselves to mine in absolute breathless fucking perfection, and I kissed them both, tracing the outline of each with the tip of my tongue. Her head tilted back more, her body softening in my hands. I kept one hand on her cheek, the other I slid down her neck, across her chest down to her waist and then around, pulling her as close to me as possible. I brought my cheek back to hers and resumed the dance steps.
“Edward, how is this going to work? I don’t know how much of myself I can give you right now,” she said with quiet regret.
“I don’t know how much I can give you either, Rosie. What do you say we just see how it all plays out?” I said and squeezed her to me, not willing to think about the fucking future just then.
“Edward…I-” she began but I cut her off.
“Why don’t we stop talking, Rosalie?” I asked, throwing her words from the night of the Gala back at her. She smirked and began to argue but I silenced her with a finger on her lips. “Still so fucking demanding,” I said teasingly. Her eyes flashed but I didn’t give her a chance to say anymore. I hardly gave her a chance to take a breath as I attempted to kiss all coherent thought straight out of her pretty little head.
She didn’t argue with me anymore as her hands moved to my hair and pulled. Goddamn I loved that. We kept swaying, but no longer in time with the music, no longer able to pay attention to anything beyond each other. I kissed her slowly, reverently, as I spun her around a few times and led her back to the desk. I leaned back against it, and with my right hand pulled open the top left drawer. Plunging my hand in, I blindly searched for the little square paper envelope that held a condom. Once found, I dropped it on the desk and closed the drawer, then brought my hand up and ran it up the back of her neck and through her hair. My left hand reached for her right knee and the hem of her dress. I fondled the fabric teasingly before hitching the hem up, and pulling the skirt of her dress up to her hip. She moaned into my mouth, clutching desperately at the collar of my shirt with both hands, and brought her right knee up to rest on top of the desk. I felt her heat radiating off of her, lapping teasingly at me as she ground her hips against me.
My knees went fucking weak. I trailed my hand from her hip, slowly down her thigh, stopping briefly to playfully snap the elastic strap of her garter, down over her stocking covered knee and ankle. My hand came to rest on the heel of her shoe, encircling it with my thumb and finger. I smiled against her lips and gave her heel a swift jerk, forcing her pelvis closer to my swollen, expectant cock. She hissed in shocked pleasure, evidenced by the sinful smirk that danced across her lips as her head fell slowly back. I released her shoe and she slowly slid her foot back to the floor, shifting her position so that her legs were between my spread ones, her hips brushing against the inside of my legs. Her hands slid with assured purpose to my waist and the bright silver buckle of my belt. She kissed me deeply, her tongue tickling the roof of my mouth before catching my lower lip in her teeth and grazing it carefully as she pulled away.
That’s my little vixen.
Her fingers worked furiously to unfasten my belt buckle. With a tug she cinched it tighter, giving her enough slack to unlatch the buckle. She pulled the belt from it’s confining loops slowly, and once freed, swung it around my back, catching it in her other hand and pulling me to her with a fierce jerk. Her eyes went to my jaw that clenched as I grunted, and she bit her lip in delicious anticipation.
She dropped the belt onto the desk with a thud.
She unbuttoned my pants.
She slid down my zipper.
She pulled up my rolling chair and made herself perfectly fucking comfortable before pulling my pants off my hips. Her eager hand found the opening of my boxers and I growled when I felt her hot little fingers wrap around me, pulling me out and freeing me from the confining cotton.
Then she did something I didn’t really expect her to do, but had been secretly fucking wanting her to. She tentatively wrapped her perfect pink lips around me and plunged my cock into her warm, wet mouth.
“Fuck Rosalie…” I watched her greedily, while my brow furrowed in tortured expectation.
As she pulled up, her cheeks puckered from the gentle suction I could feel massaging all around me, her tongue started doing things I’d never imagined before as she came up my shaft. When she got to the tip, she swept her tongue all the way around it once before plunging me even deeper into her mouth the second time, performing her little tongue acrobatics all the way down too.
Holy fucking shit.
My fingers dug into the wooden edge of my desk, and on the next pass up she dragged her teeth gently up my length. Her hand gripped my base and began to stroke back and forth, matching the faster pace her mouth was beginning to set.
“Rosalie…” I murmured again, my desire to have her growing uncontrollably by the second, egged on by each tortuous, quickening pass of her mouth. Back and forth, with the tongue maneuvers and the suction and the fucking teeth. After a few passes she started moaning softly, making me vibrate in her mouth, and that was fucking it. My eyes rolled back, my mind consumed by the singular thought of having her. RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.
I pulled her up off of me and on to her feet as I kissed her so hard I felt her knees give out on her. I crushed her to me, wrapping both my arms around her waist while her arms snaked around my neck. I lifted her off the floor and walked us to the wall next to where the Murphy bed was hidden. I gently pushed her into the wall, using her to release the latch that held the bed in place, then spun us around once to make way for the bed which fell gently to the floor. I began on the buttons that held her dress to her perfect, trembling body. I stared into her sapphire eyes and with one hand, unfastened each of the buttons at her hip, then began unfastening the ones at her shoulder. The other hand moved to her cheek then through her silky golden curls. She brought one finger to my thickly stubbled jaw and traced it slowly from my ear to my chin. I kissed her again as I slid her dress off her shoulders and to the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it behind her with a sexy flick of her high heeled foot.
Once again, she took my fucking breath away. She stood before me, her white pearls shimmering in the light of the setting sun, her perfect tits crammed gloriously into a black lace bustier. Her panties matched the bustier, and of course she had a black lace garter belt, holding up my favorite, black Cuban heeled stockings with the seam all the way up the back, which were very hard to come by right now. I began to wonder if she’d ever not take my breath away and immediately realized the idiocy of such a stupid fucking question.
Of course she’d always have that effect on me, she’s Rosie.
“So beautiful,” I whispered against her lips, cupping her face in my hands before releasing her to turn her back to me. I let my fingers dance along her back before unfastening all the little hooks of her bustier. I pulled it away from her, freeing her perfect breasts, and dropped it to the floor. She brought her hands over her head and up the back of my neck, tangling her fingers in my hair. My hands moved down, over the high curve of her ass, and unsnapped the two garter straps in the back, before reaching around and unsnapping the two in the front. I buried my mouth in her neck, nibbling softly as I trailed my hands from her inner thighs slowly up and lightly over her clit through the silk of her panties. She shivered in response and hissed as I unfastened the hooks that held the garter belt around her waist. The garter belt fell away from her, and my eager hands slipped up the front of her torso to cup her full, perfectly round tits and roll her nipples between my fingers. She whimpered and ground her backside into me, back and forth, in impatient little arcs.
Moving my hands up to her shoulders, I turned her around so that she was facing me. For a minute, I got lost in the trust and want I saw in her gaze, and it went straight to my fucking gut. She slid her hands under my shirt and slipped it off my arms. She plucked the hem of my undershirt and I raised my arms for her as she pulled it up and over my head. Her finger skimmed the waist of my boxer shorts teasingly before ducking under and hooking it with her finger, easing them down with a gentle tug.
I coaxed her onto the bed, and she reclined back willingly, expectantly, as I climbed in beside her and propped myself up on my left elbow. I leaned over her and devoured her mouth some more, worshiping her with my tongue, exploring her exquisite body with my hand. My right hand moved down her side in random little patterns and then grazed her hip, which made her shiver adorably, before reaching down and pulling her stocking off her leg. On the way back up, my hand caught her other ankle, still encased in silk. I lazily dragged my fingertips up the inside of her calf and knee, teasing her as they memorized the curve of her inner thigh. My slender fingers traced the silky hem of the stocking before pulling it down and off her leg. All that remained were her black lace panties.
My hand went to her face, my fingertips caressing her cheek adoringly. Her little hands pulled my face closer to her, demanding my fucking everything, and I was all too willing to give it to her. My right hand wandered down her over her luscious tits and sculpted stomach to play with the lacy elastic of her panties. She lifted her hips off the bed just enough for me to slowly pull them down and off of her.
Finally, there were no more barriers, no more masks, no more pretenses, no more fucking questions between us.
I sat up to kneel before her. She spread her legs, resting a foot on each side of my hips. I quickly reached over to pluck the condom off the desk, tearing it open and rolling the thin rubber over my penis while I watched her tongue dart out and lick her lips in anticipation. I lowered myself to her and plunged my nose into her neck again, drowning myself in her roses in the same instant that I plunged myself into her. She gasped as her arms wrapped around me and I could feel her red fingernails digging into me. I buried myself in her, spent a moment relishing her seemingly endless depth. She felt so fucking perfect, molded to me, tailored for me, destined for me.
I withdrew slowly, holding myself above her, my mouth insistent upon hers, before taking her again. She turned her head away to gasp “Edwaaaaard,” and her hands fell to the bed where they clutched desperately at the pale blue cotton sheet. I ran my nose along her neck, over the creamy white pearls of the necklace she still wore, and set a pace with my hips that had my Rosie wiggling in tortured ecstasy beneath me in mere moments.
So fucking beautiful.
I couldn’t stop watching her, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her flushed face, dewy with sweat and smiling in rapture. My pace quickened, my own need fed by her enjoyment of what I was doing to her.
“Mmmmm, baby doll,” I whispered huskily into her ear. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and both of us hissed at the sensation her shift inspired. I brought my forehead to hers, and my thrusts grew more impatient, more demanding. I could tell she was close.
Not going too slow now am I, doll?
I plunged into her faster, my pelvic bone hitting hers, she arched her back and I snaked my arm under her. I pulled her hips to me on my next thrust. I felt her clench around me as she cried out a low, sexy, “fuuuuck” while her nails raked painfully across my back. One of her hands moved up to my head and grabbed a fist full of my hair, pulling tightly and pushing me over the edge a second after her. I tried to bury myself as deeply in her as fucking possible while I pressed my trembling lips to her mouth, and poured my everything into her.
I collapsed on top of her, spent and disgustingly sweaty. She sighed contentedly, a pleased, satisfied little smile on her face that I couldn’t wait to inspire more often, and I counted myself the luckiest son of a bitch in Chicago.
I started to push off the bed to reluctantly pull myself off of her. Her legs were still wrapped around me and they squeezed me tighter. “No, stay for a moment… please?” she said and lifted her head to plant a kiss on my heart. I put my elbow next to her head and lowered myself back down. We kissed languidly for a few minutes and the scent of roses and cigarettes and sex was thick in the air. The light had started to fade, it was almost twilight now, and instead of the sunlight filtering through the blinds in soft orange slits, now the pale, rising moon bathed the room in dreamy blue. My Rosie looked gorgeous in the moonlight, the shimmering opalescence of her pearl necklace, the only thing she still wore, perfectly complimenting the luminosity of her flawless face. I kissed the tip of her nose, then reluctantly pulled off of her and stood up to excuse myself to the john. She let me go this time.
Tossing the condom in the trash, I cleaned myself up a little and came out, picking up my pack of Lucky’s, my lighter and the ashtray from my desk. I got back in bed next to Rosie and lit up a smoke. She took it from my lips and puffed away a couple of times before handing it back to me. She rested her head on my shoulder, watching my jaw move as I inhaled.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“Sex does that to you,” I acknowledged sarcastically and winked at her.
She slapped my shoulder again, “Edward, seriously,” she scolded.
“Well what do you want?” I asked.
“What do you like to eat?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“Chinese is my favorite,” I admitted and watched with amusement when her face wrinkled in a worried frown.
“I don’t have much experience with Chinese food…Can I share whatever you get?” she asked.
I pulled her face to mine and kissed her like the angel she was. I took a deep breath, breathing in my Rosie, and whispered against her lips, “Sure baby doll, what’s mine is yours.”