Here it is, what I'm sure a lot of us have been waiting for. The fic is far from over though...
--
“We’re getting married today,” she whispered in amazement.
I pulled her up to stand with me on the pedestal and motioned for the tailor to give me a moment. “We are. Still don’t believe it?” Those were the first words she’d uttered upon waking this morning, and she was obviously still having problems wrapping her mind around the concept, though I really didn’t see why.
She shook her head.
I chuckled as I took her face in my hands. “Why not? I’m standing here with you in a black tuxedo, and you have my ring in your pocket. Doesn’t get any realer than that, love.”
“I don’t have a dress.”
“We’ll find your dress,” I responded confidently, kissing her softly before continuing. “We’ve not even begun to look yet.”
“What if we don’t?” She bit down on her lip nervously.
“Then we’ll get married in what we wore here. I personally don’t care,” I told her.
She laughed. “Yeah, getting married in jeans and a sweater is exactly how I saw us doing this.”
“I happen to like that jumper,” I said, looking down at where her nipples were visible through the deep green fabric.
My face must’ve given it away, because she didn’t even bother to look down before she quickly covered herself and blushed. “How long have they been like that?” she hissed.
“A while,” I said with a satisfied grin.
“Oh, my God,” she mumbled in humiliation. “I look like I don’t own a bra.”
“No one’s looking at you. Not with me around. They wouldn’t dare,” I said lowly.
Her brow winged up challengingly. “You really think that kind of possessiveness is going to work for me?”
“I’ve no doubt. You’re mine; as soon as we’re home, you’ll be Bella Masen.”
“I think I’m keeping my maiden name.” She shrugged and turned to walk away, but I yanked her back so that her body was flush with mine.
“Like hell you are,” I growled.
She moaned quietly. “We should get married every day. You, like this, is such a turn on.”
“Oh?”
She slid her hand between us and cupped me, causing me to jerk with her touch. “Hurry up. We still have to pick out a tie color.”
“Black,” I choked out. I was working very hard to not embarrass myself when she moved away from me.
“Black?”
“Yes.”
“You in solid black? Me in solid white?”
“Since we decided to get married at the Black and White Ball, it seems rather fitting. Don’t you think?”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be looking at white dresses. You’ve made it so that I’m so far from being virginal… Pretending to be virtuous would be all sorts of wrong.”
“Oh, come on, Isabella. I know you’re well aware that chaste is not the only definition of virtuous. You’re good. Honest.”
“You have a stupidly high opinion of me, baby.”
I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Of course I do. I love you.”
Monday, May 24, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
The Man Who Can't Be Moved Ch 27 Teaser
We're getting close to the elopement. One chapter away before they jet off to Paris!
So... here it is. Should be finished and posted within a couple of days (as long as RL stays good to me) so that I can get the elopement chapter out next Monday to coincide with the Twitter readalong.
--
“I’m going to look into Tyler’s story,” Edward said causally, as if there was nothing serious about his statement at all.
I opened one eye and peered over at him. “Why?”
“Just a precaution. You believe him and I trust your judgment, however, it would be nice to have some sort of confirmation that his story about his mother is in fact true,” he explained.
I opened my other eye and just stared at him, wondering where this sudden mistrust of everyone came from.
He continued, knowing exactly what was circling my mind. “I’ve become cynical in my old age. I’ve seen too many people in this industry use others for their own benefit and lie, cheat, and steal—not to mention perform the odd sexual favors—to get ahead. I want verification that his mother is ill. That’s all.”
“Fine. You having that private investigator guy dig into it?”
“Sam Uley, love,” he corrected with a smile. “And yes, I am. How did you know about him?”
“I saw his card sitting on your desk. Why do you need it?” I leaned back again and stared into the blank, dark purple sky. “I want to see stars wherever we move to. It’s too fucking hazy in this town to see any stars,” I blurted.
“All right,” he chuckled. “You want stars, you’ll get stars.”
“The Uley guy?” I prompted.
“He’s a friend of Jasper’s.”
I knew that wasn’t it. “And? Do I have to pry it out of you, Edward?”
He huffed. “No, of course not. I just don’t want you to be alarmed, that’s all.”
“Why would I be alarmed?”
“I hired him to look into James Eliot. I want to know how long he’s been watching us and what his motivations were for going into that fitting room and spying on my half naked fiancée,” he said tersely.
I digested that for a minute. “What are you going to do with the information you get?” I asked, sitting back up and wringing the water from my hair. “I need to get my hair cut.”
Edward laughed. “You’re incredibly random when you drink, love.”
My bottom lip jutted out. “Oh. Is it annoying?”
“Not at all. Quite entertaining, actually.”
I grinned widely. “Kay.”
“But don’t cut your hair. I like the way it falls over your shoulders more now.”
“You like it long?”
“Not necessarily long. I like it as it is. But it’s your hair, do what you want with it.”
“Well, I would say the same thing about your hair, but I don’t want you to cut it. Ever.”
He chuckled again. Apparently I was very amusing to sober Edward. “You’ll have no say this November.”
“What?” I shouted, a little louder than I’d intended.
“They’ll buzz it off in the middle of filming. You know this,” he replied.
But I’d completely forgotten. “Oh, all that hair,” I pouted. “All that shiny, coppery colored hair.”
“It grows back,” he said simply.
So... here it is. Should be finished and posted within a couple of days (as long as RL stays good to me) so that I can get the elopement chapter out next Monday to coincide with the Twitter readalong.
--
“I’m going to look into Tyler’s story,” Edward said causally, as if there was nothing serious about his statement at all.
I opened one eye and peered over at him. “Why?”
“Just a precaution. You believe him and I trust your judgment, however, it would be nice to have some sort of confirmation that his story about his mother is in fact true,” he explained.
I opened my other eye and just stared at him, wondering where this sudden mistrust of everyone came from.
He continued, knowing exactly what was circling my mind. “I’ve become cynical in my old age. I’ve seen too many people in this industry use others for their own benefit and lie, cheat, and steal—not to mention perform the odd sexual favors—to get ahead. I want verification that his mother is ill. That’s all.”
“Fine. You having that private investigator guy dig into it?”
“Sam Uley, love,” he corrected with a smile. “And yes, I am. How did you know about him?”
“I saw his card sitting on your desk. Why do you need it?” I leaned back again and stared into the blank, dark purple sky. “I want to see stars wherever we move to. It’s too fucking hazy in this town to see any stars,” I blurted.
“All right,” he chuckled. “You want stars, you’ll get stars.”
“The Uley guy?” I prompted.
“He’s a friend of Jasper’s.”
I knew that wasn’t it. “And? Do I have to pry it out of you, Edward?”
He huffed. “No, of course not. I just don’t want you to be alarmed, that’s all.”
“Why would I be alarmed?”
“I hired him to look into James Eliot. I want to know how long he’s been watching us and what his motivations were for going into that fitting room and spying on my half naked fiancée,” he said tersely.
I digested that for a minute. “What are you going to do with the information you get?” I asked, sitting back up and wringing the water from my hair. “I need to get my hair cut.”
Edward laughed. “You’re incredibly random when you drink, love.”
My bottom lip jutted out. “Oh. Is it annoying?”
“Not at all. Quite entertaining, actually.”
I grinned widely. “Kay.”
“But don’t cut your hair. I like the way it falls over your shoulders more now.”
“You like it long?”
“Not necessarily long. I like it as it is. But it’s your hair, do what you want with it.”
“Well, I would say the same thing about your hair, but I don’t want you to cut it. Ever.”
He chuckled again. Apparently I was very amusing to sober Edward. “You’ll have no say this November.”
“What?” I shouted, a little louder than I’d intended.
“They’ll buzz it off in the middle of filming. You know this,” he replied.
But I’d completely forgotten. “Oh, all that hair,” I pouted. “All that shiny, coppery colored hair.”
“It grows back,” he said simply.
Monday, May 10, 2010
The Man Who Can't Be Moved Ch 26 Teaser
BtSatM readers... I'm working on a teaser for you all tonight. With the holiday yesterday, I didn't have time to do both.
Enjoy the lemony goodness...
--
When we had ourselves and the floor both clean, we slipped into bed together, listening to the gentle flow of the classical music I had programmed to shuffle silently. As I held her in my arms, it occurred to me that today had been a turning point in our relationship. Bella stood by my side, mixing politeness and cautiousness with her own sense of humor, and was a natural in front of the camera. The change in her was astounding, and I found myself falling even more in love with the woman lying beside me.
She was my rib, my missing piece.
Her breathing was slow and easy--soothing--as she shifted in my arms. Her warmth filled the room, and her scent made my head spin. A sharp streak of desire went through me; I turned her and groaned as a wave of that incredible scent washed over me, enveloping me in her unintentional sensuality.
I wanted her—now—and so I shifted our bodies so that I was hovering over her and kissed her passionately.
I squeezed her arse with my hand just before I hitched her leg over my hip, becoming more and more needful with the way her hands traveled over my skin and gripped at my hair. Her nails dug into the skin of my neck, just under the collar of my shirt, and the little bit of control that I’d managed to keep hold of finally snapped.
Clothes flew and grunts and groans echoed around us as we worked our way to satisfaction. The remaining article of my clothing—my shirt—was now in her hands. I heard the sharp rip of the fabric tearing in her hands but was too far gone to care.
"I’ve wanted to do that all fucking day," she breathed against my mouth.
"Mmm," was all I could manage.
My lips moved down the graceful line of her neck, over her collarbone, longing to taste the sweet skin of her breasts and feel her nipples pebble against my mouth while my hands skimmed over her body, eliciting small gasps and arches of her back with every touch.
She moaned my name in an effort to speed my movements, but I was savoring her and the moment as a sort of celebration of the day. She’d done so much for me, to be with me, going out of her comfort zone and learning to adapt to the world I drug her into the day I said "I love you".
She gasped as my hand moved between her thighs, pushing her hips up against my movements. Each pass made her body writhe with anticipation, in a silent plea for me to push her over that illusive edge and into blissful oblivion.
Enjoy the lemony goodness...
--
When we had ourselves and the floor both clean, we slipped into bed together, listening to the gentle flow of the classical music I had programmed to shuffle silently. As I held her in my arms, it occurred to me that today had been a turning point in our relationship. Bella stood by my side, mixing politeness and cautiousness with her own sense of humor, and was a natural in front of the camera. The change in her was astounding, and I found myself falling even more in love with the woman lying beside me.
She was my rib, my missing piece.
Her breathing was slow and easy--soothing--as she shifted in my arms. Her warmth filled the room, and her scent made my head spin. A sharp streak of desire went through me; I turned her and groaned as a wave of that incredible scent washed over me, enveloping me in her unintentional sensuality.
I wanted her—now—and so I shifted our bodies so that I was hovering over her and kissed her passionately.
I squeezed her arse with my hand just before I hitched her leg over my hip, becoming more and more needful with the way her hands traveled over my skin and gripped at my hair. Her nails dug into the skin of my neck, just under the collar of my shirt, and the little bit of control that I’d managed to keep hold of finally snapped.
Clothes flew and grunts and groans echoed around us as we worked our way to satisfaction. The remaining article of my clothing—my shirt—was now in her hands. I heard the sharp rip of the fabric tearing in her hands but was too far gone to care.
"I’ve wanted to do that all fucking day," she breathed against my mouth.
"Mmm," was all I could manage.
My lips moved down the graceful line of her neck, over her collarbone, longing to taste the sweet skin of her breasts and feel her nipples pebble against my mouth while my hands skimmed over her body, eliciting small gasps and arches of her back with every touch.
She moaned my name in an effort to speed my movements, but I was savoring her and the moment as a sort of celebration of the day. She’d done so much for me, to be with me, going out of her comfort zone and learning to adapt to the world I drug her into the day I said "I love you".
She gasped as my hand moved between her thighs, pushing her hips up against my movements. Each pass made her body writhe with anticipation, in a silent plea for me to push her over that illusive edge and into blissful oblivion.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Man Who Can't Be Moved Ch 25 Teaser
This is part of the photo shoot :)
--
"I hate you."
He gave me a devastating smile that would normally have me dragging him into a dark corner so that I could sate the ache it caused inside me and pulled at the cuffs of his suit. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I do." I pulled up the poufy white fabric of my dress so that I could walk and stomped toward him. "I look like a fucking fuzzy marshmallow." I glanced down and decided "marshmallow" was not the right word. "I look like a Yeti. A God damned snow beast."
He laughed. "You look like a bride. My bride."
"You can guarantee I won't be caught dead in something this... hideous on our wedding day."
He adjusted his tie and walked a circle around me as his eyes raked over the dress; he laughed again. "It's..." He shook his head. "I've no words."
"I hate you," I repeated with a snarl.
"Hate is such a strong word."
"I'm staying at my place tonight. And you're not allowed."
He cupped the back of my neck and bent to nuzzle my neck before trailing open-mouthed kisses over my exposed collar bone. I nearly purred through my anger. "You're delusional. And quite stunning as a fuzzy marshmallow. I could devour you right here in front of all these people." He sighed and pulled away. "The sooner we start the shoot, the sooner you can go home and pout."
I almost pouted, but I caught myself. "Good." I grabbed the dress and somehow made my way to the photographer without stumbling over the monstrosity I was wearing.
I walked over to the rail and stared out at the city below. Edward came over and leaned against the railing, glancing over at me and chuckling to himself. Click.
"Am I that ugly?" I asked, arching my brow and trying not to smile back.
He rolled his eyes. "I know this isn't something you'd normally choose for yourself, but you look extremely glamorous and very Hollywood. It simply reinforces the feeling that you belong with me." He stared out into the distance and let me ponder that.
"I do belong with you," I whispered suddenly.
"And yet you hate me," he teased.
I simply laughed.
He held his hand out to me. "Come, let’s get this over with so that you can change out of that God-awful dress. I might just go blind having to look at it for the next hour."
"Asshole," I replied, taking his hand.
--
"I hate you."
He gave me a devastating smile that would normally have me dragging him into a dark corner so that I could sate the ache it caused inside me and pulled at the cuffs of his suit. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I do." I pulled up the poufy white fabric of my dress so that I could walk and stomped toward him. "I look like a fucking fuzzy marshmallow." I glanced down and decided "marshmallow" was not the right word. "I look like a Yeti. A God damned snow beast."
He laughed. "You look like a bride. My bride."
"You can guarantee I won't be caught dead in something this... hideous on our wedding day."
He adjusted his tie and walked a circle around me as his eyes raked over the dress; he laughed again. "It's..." He shook his head. "I've no words."
"I hate you," I repeated with a snarl.
"Hate is such a strong word."
"I'm staying at my place tonight. And you're not allowed."
He cupped the back of my neck and bent to nuzzle my neck before trailing open-mouthed kisses over my exposed collar bone. I nearly purred through my anger. "You're delusional. And quite stunning as a fuzzy marshmallow. I could devour you right here in front of all these people." He sighed and pulled away. "The sooner we start the shoot, the sooner you can go home and pout."
I almost pouted, but I caught myself. "Good." I grabbed the dress and somehow made my way to the photographer without stumbling over the monstrosity I was wearing.
I walked over to the rail and stared out at the city below. Edward came over and leaned against the railing, glancing over at me and chuckling to himself. Click.
"Am I that ugly?" I asked, arching my brow and trying not to smile back.
He rolled his eyes. "I know this isn't something you'd normally choose for yourself, but you look extremely glamorous and very Hollywood. It simply reinforces the feeling that you belong with me." He stared out into the distance and let me ponder that.
"I do belong with you," I whispered suddenly.
"And yet you hate me," he teased.
I simply laughed.
He held his hand out to me. "Come, let’s get this over with so that you can change out of that God-awful dress. I might just go blind having to look at it for the next hour."
"Asshole," I replied, taking his hand.
Between the Sun and the Moon Ch 31 Teaser
Here it is... *snickers cause I know I'll get some shit for this*
--
"No!" A tenor voice shouted from behind us. "Get away from her! You've done enough, Cullen!"
I tensed, expecting the worst, but was shocked to feel Bella's fingers curl into my stomach as she stood in front of me protectively.
"Mike," she said calmly. "Don't make a scene. Jessica wouldn't want that."
His eyes darted between the casket and me indecisively. "Get out. You're not welcome," he said lowly.
I nodded and urged Bella forward, but she wouldn't budge. "Bella," I whispered. "It's not worth it."
Almost as if she had ignored me entirely, she kept her eyes locked on Mike's. "Newton, I know you're upset and angry, but this is no more our fault than it is yours. We were targeted just like Jessica," she said softly. "And I'm so sorry that she wasn't as fortunate as we were."
His bright blue eyes stared at Bella blankly before blurring with tears. "God, Bella, I just don't understand," he said with such agony, I winced. "She was minding her own business. Didn't even have a chance to defend herself."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know her very well, but I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt her voluntarily. Those people..." She swallowed hard. "They're insane. Brainwashed. I'm sure once that man comes to his senses he'll regret what he did that night for the rest of his life."
I didn't necessarily believe that, but I knew why Bella had said it. It held a comfort to it, just like the tone of her voice.
Mike sagged forward and outstretched his hand. Bella took a step forward and almost seemed to catch him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have taken it out on you two. You were the only other people involved that weren't held hostage so..."
"No need to explain," I said gently.
"I was going to ask her to marry me," he said quietly.
I thought the guilt might swallow my soul with those words. "I’m sorry," I responded uneasily, not knowing how to comfort someone who was seemingly dying from the inside out right before my eyes.
"Thanks," he croaked. "Are you coming to the… um, the…" He couldn’t seem to get the rest out.
"Burial?" Bella prompted.
He nodded.
"Of course we are," she responded with such reassurance, it astounded me.
"I’ll go get you the flag for your car."
He started to walk away, but I clasped my hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "No, we can handle it ourselves. Just point us in the direction we should go, and we’ll let you get back to your family and friends."
Without another word, he pointed to a dark haired man in the back and then walked off.
--
"No!" A tenor voice shouted from behind us. "Get away from her! You've done enough, Cullen!"
I tensed, expecting the worst, but was shocked to feel Bella's fingers curl into my stomach as she stood in front of me protectively.
"Mike," she said calmly. "Don't make a scene. Jessica wouldn't want that."
His eyes darted between the casket and me indecisively. "Get out. You're not welcome," he said lowly.
I nodded and urged Bella forward, but she wouldn't budge. "Bella," I whispered. "It's not worth it."
Almost as if she had ignored me entirely, she kept her eyes locked on Mike's. "Newton, I know you're upset and angry, but this is no more our fault than it is yours. We were targeted just like Jessica," she said softly. "And I'm so sorry that she wasn't as fortunate as we were."
His bright blue eyes stared at Bella blankly before blurring with tears. "God, Bella, I just don't understand," he said with such agony, I winced. "She was minding her own business. Didn't even have a chance to defend herself."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know her very well, but I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt her voluntarily. Those people..." She swallowed hard. "They're insane. Brainwashed. I'm sure once that man comes to his senses he'll regret what he did that night for the rest of his life."
I didn't necessarily believe that, but I knew why Bella had said it. It held a comfort to it, just like the tone of her voice.
Mike sagged forward and outstretched his hand. Bella took a step forward and almost seemed to catch him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have taken it out on you two. You were the only other people involved that weren't held hostage so..."
"No need to explain," I said gently.
"I was going to ask her to marry me," he said quietly.
I thought the guilt might swallow my soul with those words. "I’m sorry," I responded uneasily, not knowing how to comfort someone who was seemingly dying from the inside out right before my eyes.
"Thanks," he croaked. "Are you coming to the… um, the…" He couldn’t seem to get the rest out.
"Burial?" Bella prompted.
He nodded.
"Of course we are," she responded with such reassurance, it astounded me.
"I’ll go get you the flag for your car."
He started to walk away, but I clasped my hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "No, we can handle it ourselves. Just point us in the direction we should go, and we’ll let you get back to your family and friends."
Without another word, he pointed to a dark haired man in the back and then walked off.
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