You ready to cook some delicious French cuisine?”
“I am. I’m starving and I’ve been saving points,” I smirked. I popped my hip and struck a saucy pose. I was wearing an orange top (courtesy of Alice’s mom) and a pair of khaki pants with some cute wedgie heels and turquoise jewelry. I was definitely feeling more confident in my body, but still not quite there yet.
“You know I’m not going to pay attention to the damn instructor,” he snorted.
“Because you look good enough to eat and well, your boobs are just begging for some attention,” he growled, staring directly at my cleavage.
“They do look good, don’t they,” I giggled, cupping my breasts and bouncing them a few times. Edward groaned and scowled at me. “Come on, cop a feel. I know you want to.”
“Bella, if I cop a feel, we won’t be leaving,” he said. He pulled me into his arms and stared at me with his evergreen eyes. “Tonight after we eat our delicious meal, you, me, bed, orgasms…got it?”
“Do I get a say on how the orgasms happen?” I asked, kissing his nose.
“You’re killing me, Bells,” he choked out. His lips brushed mine, then became more insistent. “You can get your orgasms any way you want, baby…”
“I’m talking about you, baby,” I purred against his mouth. “Perhaps I need some extra protein.” Where the hell did that come from? “Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”
“Bella, relax,” Edward said as he took my face in his hands. “I like it. I love hearing you be sexy and confident. I’m so more and more of it and I love it. Just like I love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, too,” I said, smiling shyly. Edward gathered me in his arms and we swayed slightly for a few moments.
“Bella, you don’t have to apologize for what you just said or anything like that in the future. Hell, half of the stuff in my head is consistently in the gutter,” he quipped. “I’m a pervy old man who has an equally pervy girlfriend. Let her out sometimes. Besides, the possibility of hearing you say naughty words just makes me giddy.”
“Edward, don’t say ‘naughty.’ It’s wrong on so many levels,” I teased him. “Coupled with the word ‘giddy…’ takes the wrong to a whole other level.”
“Okay, I won’t say ‘naughty,’ anymore,” he vowed.