One of the things I won't miss about Arizona is the way the temperatures change so drastically throughout the day in the winter months. Late at night to early in the morning, you can't step outside without fear of freezing your balls off, but by the afternoon, the sun is beating down mercilessly. Freezing and sweating all in one day. Layering was the only option, and Bella has that shit down pat.
Today, Thanksgiving Day, she is wearing jeans and boots, a peachy tank top and a plaid shirt that she's removed and tied around her waist. I am especially thankful for how much it heated up today, so that the shirt had come off and the tank is showing her cleavage every time she leans over.
It's dinner and a show.
Charlie is one of my favorite people. He's retired military, and settled in Sierra Vista after his final relocation. Now he works in Tombstone at the museum housed in the old courthouse. Three times a day he can be found on Allen Street portraying Doc Holliday during the infamous shootout at the O.K. Corral. Not on this day, though. Even gunslingers have Turkey Day off.
So here I am, in retired Staff Sergeant Charles Swan's home, having impure thoughts about his only child.
I mean, seriously impure.
This woman, whom I have loved for an extremely long time, has been driving me crazy. I don't know if she's doing it on purpose, or if she has no idea how blue my balls have become…
There she goes again, leaning over to place another knife on the table. Her hair falls over her shoulder, and she catches the strands, tucking them back behind her ear. My pants are straining, a permanent predicament, and as Charlie leaves the room I throw off the pillow I have strategically placed in my lap. Jumping up, I move quickly to stand behind Bella, my hands gripping her hips and pulling her against my erection. She makes a soft sound, like she's caught her sigh, and I try hard not to moan.
"Do you have any idea," I whisper directly in her ear, "how sexy you are?"
"I'm just setting the table, Edward," she whimpers.
"Doesn't matter," I tell her, licking the shell of her ear, swivelling my hips against her ass, proving just how serious I am. I move my hands to the table, grabbing the rest of the knives. I place one, leaning against her as I do. I move us down the table to the next plate, placing another knife, and another kiss to her ear, then one to the side of her neck. Her scent is swirling in my brain, the heady, warm smell of her perfume. Dipping my head, I swipe my tongue along her neck, down to the slope of her shoulder. Sucking lightly, I grin when I hear her unsteady intake of breath.
I hear Charlie's footsteps, and I step to the side of Bella, leaving her swaying as I place a knife at the next setting in time for him to come into the dining room.
"Never met the other guy, but I got the impression he would never have helped out with something as simple as setting the table." Charlie locks his gaze on Bella's face. "Glad you came to your senses, Bella."
I grin wide. Like I said, I like Charlie very much.
Apparently Bella takes it upon herself to torture me further, because after I'm seated next to her father, she leans over to place the butter dish near my plate. The fullness of her breast pressess against my arm, and my eyes flash to hers. She is clearly amused as she reaches again, removing the lid and brushing my shoulder with her tit. My eyes narrow on her face and she gives me a serene smile.
The conversation revolves around Bella's career and my own, and Charlie talks about tourism in Tombstone. I've just settled back in my chair when I feel it. Bella's sock clad toes working their way up my calf, to my knee, and further up to my inner thigh. When I look her way, her attention is solely on her father's face. There's a telltale flush working its way up her chest to her neck, where it meets the rosiness of her cheeks.
Dinner is over and the table is clear, thanks to me and Charlie. Bella is at the back of the house, I think, and I leave Charlie smoking on the front stoop to find her.
Creeping quietly down the hallway, I catch sight of her hair through the doorway of one of the bedrooms. She's brushing it up and into a ponytail as I come in and close—and lock—the door behind me. When she turns at the sound of the door, she squeaks in surprise, dropping the brush with a clatter. Stalking her as she circles the room, I follow her heated eyes as she watches me intently. Just as she reaches the bedroom door, I spring. Locking her wrists in one of my hands, I pin her to the door with my body, arms above her head. I meet her mouth hungrily with my own, eagerly tasting her lips. Her wanton moan spurs me on, and my free hand roams her body in possessive sweeps. Her hair, her throat, her tits, her waist. I slip my fingers down to unbutton her jeans, the sound of the zipper overly loud against the sound of our panting.
Her eyes on me, I snake my fingers into her panties, stroking where she's wet. I know it's because of me, know that only I turn her into a dripping mess. My mouth continues its assault on hers, and I can feel the pounding of her heart beneath my own. Circling her clit ruthlessly, I swallow her cries, taking everything into myself to savor and to keep us from being found out. Her hips buck against my hand, and I release her arms to place my other hand behind her to keep her from banging into the door. It doesn't hurt that now I can squeeze her ass, feeling my way between her legs from the back to rub insistently against the seam of her jeans. When she bites down on my lip, her scream releasing into my mouth as her body convulses involuntarily, I kiss her all the harder, taking her head in my hands and angling her head to my satisfaction.
I pull my head from hers as I hear Charlie in the hallway. Bella is breathing like she just ran a marathon, and the bulge in my pants is screaming for release, knowing he won't get it.
"Bella?" we hear through the door. We stare at each other, chests heaving.
"Yeah, Dad?" she answers calmly.
"Have you seen Edward?" his baritone sounds though the wood of the door.
I bite back a laugh, trying my damnedest to keep a straight face. "I think he was going to head out back. Why don't you see if he's out by the pool?"
She gives me a stern look as we hear him retreating. "I'll go out the front, pretend I was outside the whole time," I murmur. She kisses me chastely, and I step away, bringing my fingers up to stick them in my mouth, sucking her flavor from my fingertips. She watches me, pupils dilated.
"You're evil," she whispers, and I chuckle.
"Don't forget to fix your hair."
Her hands go to her just-fucked hair, the ponytail hanging askew. I laugh quietly as I head out.
Charlie finds me in the side yard, as I amble around looking at his landscaping. We walk in silence towards the pool deck, then sit side by side in lounge chairs. Charlie is the first to speak up.
"Do you know why she was with that guy? Ripley?"
I stifle a laugh, but not very successfully. "It's Riley, sir."
"Like I give a shit, son."
"I know. Believe me, I know." I sigh. "She says that he was really nice to her when she first started working there. He showed her around town, wooed her. He was charming, the son of a bitch."
"Until he wasn't."
"Right, until he wasn't. She didn't want to marry him, and he started acting more and more disrespectful. She says that they were arguing in the car the night of the accident. He was calling her…"
"Just say it," he growls, his mustache twitching.
"He called her a prude. Said she was a hack at her job, would never amount to anything unless she married him. He was facing her, calling her a bitch right to her face. He plowed into a fire hydrant after crossing the lanes."
"Idiot's lucky he didn't get hit head-on."
"Fucker's lucky it was his side of the car."
"I can't believe he had the gall to propose again, and during a live broadcast."
I chuckle. "She shut him down good."
"Oh, I've seen the replay. I watch her online, same as you." He grins. "I do wish she'd punched him right in that cocky face of his."
The two of us were still laughing when Bella came outside. Her hair was back up, and she was in a bikini. My mouth dropped as she smoothly dove into the crystal clear pool.
"Damn, son. I feel sorry for you."
Prying my eyes from Bella, and the memory of the ass that she just flashed me, I look to Charlie.
"She's pushing your buttons, isn't she?" he laughs.
"You have no idea, sir. None at all."
"Oh, I know my daughter pretty well. If she's making you wait, it's because she wants to do right by you this time."
"I hope she decides it's right soon."
Charlie laughs loudly.
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