The Breakers Chapter 16

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Chapter 16


EPOV

"Again, Bella."

Her eyes open and I can tell it takes her a moment to focus. I don't wait.

"I need you," I whisper. I don't apologize; I'm not the least bit sorry.

I press against her and find her warm and wanting. Her legs wrap easily around my waist and I literally shiver when her soft, small hands grab my arms.

"Edward, oh." She breathes through a smile as I let more of my weight settle on her. Her eyes are focused now, focused totally on me.

I lower my head and drag my tongue down the side of her neck. She tastes fucking delicious and I bite back a groan. All citrusy, salty, and totally Bella. One hand at her waist, the other on a breast. Fingers searching out skin I haven't yet had my fill of. I pinch a nipple, rolling it between my thumb and index finger. Bella throws her head back, her neck stretches, begging for my teeth.

My body is on fucking fire, every inch of skin screaming to feel her against me. I slide a hand down her leg, over her thigh, and then back up again. I want so many things: to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her … to be inside of her again.

"Christ, Bella," I murmur when her heels push me forward. The first time was over so quickly I want this time to be better for her, but as soon as the tip of my cock grazes her clit as I lay on top of her, I'm almost done for right then.

My fingers disappear into her hair and my tongue plunges into her mouth. I groan, the sound vibrating from deep inside of me, when our tongues twirl together. Slow, so fucking slowly we kiss, all tongues and teeth and lips. I learn as I go. She likes to tip her head to the right more than the left. Sucking her tongue into my mouth makes her arch her back and if I use short, fast flicks of my tongue, she lifts her hips and rubs her pussy against me.

I kiss her until my vision blurs and then I slide my mouth down her throat to her breasts.

She cries out a soft, needy, "Edward, God yes," when I suck a nipple into my mouth. I taste and lick and nibble each one, moving back and forth like kid with a lollipop. I can't get enough and each swipe of my tongue, each taste, makes me crave more.

Her nails make a path of searing heat up my arm and then down my back. The room is filled with the sounds that from now on will play on a constant soundtrack in my mind. Soft sighs, quick breaths, low growls, hungry moans, the sound of skin sliding against skin, the quiet slap of hips against hips.

My fingers brush against the swell of her ass, then knead and squeeze. From there they travel over her hip bone and then dive between our bodies.

"Oh, fuck, Bella." I hiss when I find her wet and ready. My fingers circle her clit. I watch her face, mesmerized by each sound and each move she makes. A squeak then a whimper. Eyes squeezed shut then open and glazed when I push two fingers inside of her. Head thrashing against her pillow. Her dark hair a tangled mess against the stark, white pillowcase when I curl my fingers forward and press on the spot that makes her breath catch in her throat. I may not have been with a woman in more than seven years, but learning how to please Bella, what she wants and needs, is a lesson I'm more than willing to spend a lot of time getting right.

"Bella, look at me," I call to her, wanting to watch her but wanting to watch my fingers move in and out of her at the same time.

Her pussy clenches my fingers as I keep up a steady rhythm. Her chest is flushed and the moonlight shimmers from the fine sheen of sweat that covers her body. Her eyes are glossy, her lips red and swollen. Her nipples are hard and her fingers twist the sheets beside her as she writhes on the bed while my fingers continue to move in and out.

She's fucking gorgeous.

She's fucking mine.

"That's it, baby," I murmur as she spreads her legs wider. I've sat up, now on my knees in front of her. I can't help but take my cock in my hand as I bring her closer and closer to the edge.

Her eyes widen when she sees me stroking myself and when she licks her lips, I get even harder in my hand. I ache I'm so hard but I want to feel her come first. My hand is perfectly in sync with my fingers. My hips thrust forward each time I push my fingers inside of her.

"Edward, oh God, I'm so close. Oh please," she cries out.

She lifts up on her elbows and her mouth opens. As if in a trance, she watches my hands, one in her pussy the other on my cock. Her legs begin to shake and her breath sounds like little more than pants.

"I can feel it. Let go. Come, Bella." I hiss as my thumb presses down on the tip of my cock sliding through the liquid that has seeped out.

"Oh God, oh yes." Her hips rise off the bed and her pussy clamps down on my fingers. She shatters, shaking and moaning and damn if it's not the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life. Her climax seems to go on and on and my fingers never stop moving even when my name falls from her lips in little more than a whisper.

I finally have to take my fingers out and my eyes roll back in my head when I bring them to my mouth and taste her for the first time. "So fucking good," I mutter.

My hand is still firmly wrapped around my cock. Before I can open my eyes, Bella is straddling my lap and her fingers squeeze between mine. "So hot, oh God." She breathes against my neck, biting at the spot beneath my ear.

I groan loudly when I grip her ass leaving my cock to her very capable, very strong hand. Her fingers slide up and down my length, squeezing with the absolutely perfect amount of pressure.

"God damn." I'm so hard, and she has no fucking idea how incredible her fingers feel on me.

I twist her hair around my hand and none too gently tug until her head tips to the side. I suck on her neck and then can't help when my teeth bite at the sensitive skin. I growl when I move from her neck to her shoulder. I want to mark her but I won't, at least not where anyone can see it. My fingers dig into her ass and I lift her, pressing her pussy tightly against her hand and my cock.

Her hand twists and her fingers squeeze and I almost come right then.

"I need to be inside of you," I whisper much more gently than I feel.

Without stopping her up and down movement she pushes on my chest with her free hand and I fall backward. She's on top of me immediately, her tongue tracing the lines of ink on my chest before I'm even all the way on the bed.

"So sexy, oh, Edward." She breathes, her warm breath causing me to shiver as it fans the skin where her tongue has been.

"Bella, now, baby." I moan, lifting my hips. "Let me be inside of you."

Wordlessly, she raises her lower body and then her hand is gone, only to be replaced by the searing heat of her pussy as she lowers herself on me. Slowly, oh God, so fucking slow it feels like I'm going to pass out from how good it feels, each inch feeling better than the last. I hiss, a string of words I have no idea what they mean falls from my lips as she takes all of me inside of her.

"Fuck, yes," I cry out when she sits up.

I'm so deep inside of her it feels like I may never come out. Her fingers curl against my chest as she raises and lowers her hips. Her bottom lip is between her teeth and she's making the sexiest sounds I've ever heard. A breath mixed with a growl and a whimper and it makes me even harder inside of her. My fingers hold her hips, thumbs circling her hips bones. My hips thrust against her each time she moves down on me. Our bodies in perfect sync. Up and down, give and take, over and over and over again.

She sits up, erotic and beautiful. When she leans back, stretching her body in the most delicious way, the ends of her hair brush against my thighs and it feels like the softest silk. I lift a hand and find her clit with my fingers.

Her muscles clench, thighs and pussy, and she throws her head forward. Our eyes meet, hers are dark, hungry and I'm sure mine look the same. "So good, Edward." She moans, the sound coming from deep inside of her.

My fingers don't still as she continues to move over me. We're both lost, lost in how good everything feels.

"Come here and kiss me," I say between pants. She lowers her head to mine and our mouths meet once more.

As frenzied as we were just a moment ago, the moment her mouth covers mine, our bodies slow, relishing every dip of a tongue, every stroke of my cock inside of her, every breath we share.

Her arms wrap around my head as she presses her entire upper body against mine. "I'm going to come," she whispers.

"Me, too," I answer back. My legs burn, my stomach tightens, and my chest expands.

"So good, fuck you feel so good on me," I tell her, my hands covering, holding her ass.

She stops breathing and then I feel it. Wet, liquid heat pulsing all around me as she comes. "Edward, oh, God … yes … yes."

Hearing my name fall from her lips as she comes sends me over the edge and I grunt her name over and over as I release inside of her, not as hard as the first time but the feeling is even more intense.

She collapses on my chest and I run my fingers up and down her back. Wanting to feel her beneath me, I hold her close to me and then roll over.

"That was-" I stop and shake my head as I struggle to find adequate words.

"Even better than the first time," she finishes, summing things up perfectly.

I run my fingers silently through her hair and her fingers make trails up and down my arms, but other than that, neither of us make any effort to move. It's stopped raining. The moonlight is shining through the window sending streaks of silvery white across the floor. My eyes sweep around her room and fall on the clock beside the bed.

"Holy shit," I murmur and it sounds much too loud for the intimate moment.

She giggles at my outburst and her hands immediately reach for my face and turn it toward her. The action is so … fluid, so natural, it takes my breath away for a second.

"What's wrong?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

I grin. Silly girl, how can she possibly think I am anything but spectacular after what we've just shared?

"Do you know what time it is?" I ask, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose.

"I'm guessing late from that reaction." Her voice is so calm that I can't help but to relax against her. I slip out of her, an action neither of us like, and try to roll off her but her legs grip me tighter and she shakes her head. "Please don't move yet," she whispers.

I nod and our eyes lock. I'm dying to know what she's thinking but just laying with her, feeling her entire body flush with mine, feels too good to let anything take away from it. I'm still watching her and my stomach clenches when I feel her lower her hand from my cheek down over the side of my neck. Her fingertips brush back and forth over my scar and I wait, my eyes burning into hers because I know what's coming next.

"Will you tell me?" Her voice is cautious but determined.

Brushing my lips across hers, I nod before rolling off her and off the bed. When I stand up and put my boxers on, she pouts. "There is no way in hell I can have this conversation laying in bed with you like that, Bella," I tell her as she sits up. She holds the sheet loosely to her chest and it barely covers anything. I can still see the edges of each of her perfect tits peek out from beneath the sheet, and I swallow.

Jesus, I want her again.

I bend down to pick up the t-shirt I had on earlier to give to her then drop it when I think about whose it is. For some reason, her wearing Xavier's shirt while I try to talk to her just seems wrong. I look around her room, wondering which drawer she keeps her t-shirts in. I walk forward about two steps, then stop, forgetting for a moment what I was going to do.

Images and memories I've struggled and fought to keep buried storm forth like an army advancing on an enemy. They're coming at me from all sides, sounds I've tried to forget, words cried out during the night that still give me chills if I think about them, smells that literally make me wretch and gag to remember, a myriad of things assault every sense at once and I squeeze my eyes closed so tightly it hurts.

The sheets rustle behind me and I hear her footsteps as they pad toward her dresser. I hear a drawer open and then close quickly and I jump when I feel her hand in mine. She says nothing, just waits for me to be ready.

A few moments pass and then I open my eyes and look down at her. The tip of her nose is red, but there aren't any tears in her eyes which is more of a relief than I can articulate. I don't want her pity.

"I should have done this the other night. I'm sorry I didn't."

The words out of her mouth render me stupid because there is no way she just said what I think she did. "Excuse me?" I say after I open and close my mouth at least five times.

She blows out a puff of air and twists her mouth. I wait. I'm so confused because of all the words in the English language, those however many she just said in that sentence would be the last ones I ever would have imagined her saying.

"Let's sit," she offers and pulls me to the bed.

I shake my head to clear it because the last five minutes didn't go anything like I expected them to. Faster than I can almost keep up with, she grabs her phone, checks a message, and with quick, capable fingers sends one back. The whole thing takes no more than a minute. She gets on the left side of the bed and my stomach drops. I sleep on the right. The fact that she sleeps on the left seems like a huge deal to me, though maybe it's not. She fluffs a few pillows behind her back then settles against them while pulling another pillow on her lap. She's nervous. I can tell because her fingers are plucking and pulling at the pillowcase, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, then bunching the pillow up only to do it again. A deep breath, bottom lip between her teeth, a push of hair behind her ear - I watch each movement with ravenous eyes, committing them to memory. I love learning new things about her, though I've seen her do each of these things when she's been nervous before. Not in this same order however, which makes it new. The fact that she's so adorable at the same time makes it much easier to find a comfortable position on the bed facing her.

She slides her hand across the bed and then turns it over, wiggling her fingers until I lay my hand in hers. I can't hide the smile that spreads across my face when I see her relax even further into her pillows and her shoulders lower a bit. I really fucking love having that kind of effect on her.

"I meant what I said just then. I am sorry about how I acted the other night," she says softly.

"You're going to have to explain that comment a little bit more for me because I still don't really understand what you're apologizing for." I hope my voice doesn't sound as frustrated as I'm beginning to feel. I don't want to make this discussion any more difficult than it needs to be, especially not right from the get-go.

She huffs again and makes a, what I am positive she didn't intend to be sexy but is, groan in the back of her throat. "You were so wonderful with me tonight." I snicker and puff out my chest which makes her squeeze and pull my hand. "Not that, though yes that was," she tries to say and bites her lip, though this time for a totally different reason. The fact that I can tell the difference makes me want to bite my lip … or actually hers. Her eyes flit across my face and when they capture mine, I feel as if I'm melting. They are so warm and full of so much that I begin to move toward her like a moth to a flame.

"No, no, I need to tell you this and we have to talk. There's so much to say ..." She trails off, the weight of how true that statement is making it almost impossible to quantify just how much there is.

"Okay," I say as I exhale a deep breath.

"What you told me the other night," she begins and wets her bottom lip with her tongue, "I still have such a hard time imagining what you went through. I can't wrap my head around it all, I mean you're … you and I can't picture you in that place."

I don't know how to answer that or if there's even anything she needs me to say.

"I know it was hard for you to tell me and I feel bad I let you leave the way you did, that I asked you to go without making sure you were okay. I was so selfish," she whispers as she hangs her head.

My stomach twists and I suck in a deep breath. "Bella, no," I tell her immediately, but she shakes her head and looks up. Her eyes are wide, sad.

She nods her head at me. "Yes, Edward. Hearing what happened to you was hard and shocking. I had a million things going through my mind at one time, but hearing about Evan wasn't any easier for you and yet you still tried to comfort me. All I did was let you talk without giving you anything."

I absorb what she says for a moment. "Bella, honestly, it's okay," I tell her sincerely. I have no idea why she's so focused on apologizing but I can see it's something she's really thought about. "You needed time to think. I understood that. It was … hard leaving you not knowing what you were thinking or what was going to happen between us, but I did understand."

She stares at our hands and her index finger moves back and forth across my wrist. "Are you … I mean, are you okay now? About everything?" she asks hesitantly.

"Do you mean about us or about what happened to me? 'Everything' is kind of vague," I tease a bit.

I know we need to have this talk but knowing it doesn't make it any easier to begin. Telling her about being in prison was hard, but even I have to admit that blurting it out without meaning to made it a bit easier.

"Both … more," she tells me as she shrugs her shoulders. "It just seems like there's so much I want to know."

I wrap my fingers around her hand, trapping her finger along my wrist. "Then ask me. I told you I don't want to keep anything from you, that I will tell you anything you want to know."

"What … " she begins in a voice barley louder than a breath, "what was it like in … in there?"

"Isolating," I answer immediately, the word bitter in my mouth.

She gasps and lays her free hand across her chest, covering her heart. I watch as she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This isn't likely to be a pleasant conversation for either of us, but I find myself practically bursting with the need to tell her everything. I know I won't, at least not yet, but I know how significant it is that I want to.

Her mouth opens and closes, a squeak, a half-word that I don't have the first clue what it is, escapes. She's uncomfortable and unsure of what to ask and her unease isn't what I want.

"It was prison, Bella. It's supposed to be that way. Day after day after monotonous day of the same thing. It was never quiet. There wasn't ever a day I felt relaxed. There wasn't ever a day that I didn't feel as though I was going to crawl out of my skin. It was a seven year, two thousand five hundred and fifty-five days long nightmare," I end on an uneven breath.

I can tell my words have shaken her, but I can't hide how horrific it was. If she truly wants me, she's going to have to accept the grim reality that I am … an ex-convict.

Her eyes drop. I can't tell if they're closed or if she's staring at the pillow that still lies across her lap like a protective shield. "How did you manage? I mean ..." She gulps audibly. I watch her throat move and wait for her to lift her head again. "Weren't you scared? You were so young when that … when you were … arrested."

"I was young." I scoff and bitter, angry feelings fight their way to the surface but I hold them back. We need to talk about this. I won't be able to if I also have to wrestle with the demons I still carry with me. "And yes, I was scared. And angry and lost and so damned stupid." My voice rises and I pinch the bridge of my nose in an effort to stay in control.

I feel Bella's hand, warm and reassuring beneath mine and it grounds me, reminds me that I'm here now … with her.

"Bella, it was, I don't even know how to describe it," I begin and stare out the window. I know I'm here, in bed with her, but it's like I'm watching a movie play out in the glass as images flicker in the reflection. "It almost seemed like it was happening to someone else, like I was watching someone else have handcuffs tightened so tightly around his wrists that they caused bruises that didn't go away for a week. That it was someone else that heard the words "you've been sentenced to fifteen years for armed robbery." That it was someone else who heard the slam of the heavy, steel door when it closed behind me that first night in Old Colony. Like it was someone else who didn't sleep for days, but instead kept a pillow pressed tightly to his ears to block out sounds that were straight out of a horror movie. That it was someone else that spent day after day after miserable day just trying to make it through, even though at first, he wasn't sure he wanted to."

I hear her sniff and when I look at her, there are tears in the corners of her eyes. I hate upsetting her, but she asked and I told her I would tell her everything. However, there is no way in hell I will ever tell her how truly horrific those first days and weeks were. Living with those particular memories is mine alone to live with.

She breathes slowly in and out and I don't say anything as she digests what I've said and she gathers the courage to ask me her next question. When she glances at the scar along my neck I anticipate what she says next. "How did that happen?" she whispers, wincing as she lets her eyes stare at my neck. "Were you … someone tried to hurt you, on purpose?"

Her question is so innocent and laced with hurt for me that I have to tear my gaze away from her for a moment. I tip my head up and stare at the ceiling, mesmerized for the briefest a seconds by the way the moonlight stretches across it. I follow the path of one of the slivers of light toward the window and almost instantly I'm brought back to standing in my room at Wayne's house, looking out a window, my window, for the first time in years. I shiver at the memory, something seemingly so innocuous but so profound in its simplicity.

My head falls forward and I nod, not looking at her face. Instead I watch our hands, memorizing the way her pulse feels beneath the tip of my index finger when I press down on it. Its steady, if slightly accelerated, beat is a silent reminder that I'm no longer alone.

"Once I'd … resigned myself that I was in there to stay, that it wasn't a dream, I tried to keep to myself." I push away all the vivid memories and just focus on the fact that I'm in Bella's house and not in that hell hole. "I didn't talk unless I had to. I didn't make eye contact. I did exactly what I was told, when I was told, and tried to be invisible. Once a few months had passed, I sort of fell into the monotonous routine of every day. I still didn't talk much, no more than I absolutely had to, so when we'd have our free time," I scoff at the word free, as if anything was ever free inside that cage, "I would go to the library and read.

"I kept that up for awhile and once I kind of established I wasn't going to cause any trouble, my caseworker arranged for me to enroll in some online college classes. I'd always been fascinated with the law." And again I scoff at the irony. Jesus, I was a fucking idiot back then. "And the books I'd been reading up until then only fed that. I started taking criminal justice classes when I could and reading extra books and anything I could lay my hands on that had to do with the law. I don't know what it was," I trail off, still not knowing where that passion came from. Carlisle and I have discussed it at great length and I'm no closer to understanding it than I was seven years ago. I just know it's still there, even if now it's buried beneath rubber gloves and the smell of salt water.

She moves and the pillow falls from her lap, landing on the floor with a soft whoosh. In typical fashion, and I swear one of the things that never fails to stir feelings deep inside of me, she pulls her knees up and rests her chin on them. Her eyes find mine and they pin me in place. They're so warm I feel as if I might melt right where I sit, like my bones have liquefied inside my body.

"The more classes I was able to take, the more I craved to learn as much as I could. I began giving a few guys advice here and there, things they could do for their cases or for family on the outside. Nothing major," I'm quick to point out. "I never helped anyone get off or anything like that," I tell her anxiously.

"Of course not, Edward," she says softly, calmly.

I push my free hand through my hair and then give her a grateful smile. "Well, because I helped some of the guys, I was pretty much left alone. I mean no one really messed with me," I tell her and hope she can interpret my meaning. Her eyes pinch and she bites her bottom lip and I watch as she sighs and rolls her shoulders. "Every now and then some new guy would come along and try to start shit with me, either to prove a point or because I wouldn't help him, or just because." She wraps her free arm tighter around her legs and I can tell it's taking all she has to try to be strong for me.

Unable to stand watching her struggle to understand things that are really outside her realm of reference, I scoot closer and wrap my arm around her knee, still facing her. "The asshole that did this," I hiss as I tip my head to indicate the scar, "had been messing with me for weeks before he jumped me. I wouldn't help him with some bullshit complaint he had and it pissed him off. He got to me while I was doing my job in the laundry. I felt him behind me as he was leaning over my shoulder and I turned just enough that he stabbed me in the neck. It was a sharpened toothbrush," I tell her, the memory still as crystal clear as if it happened just yesterday. "I was in the infirmary for a couple of weeks. The bastard injured my vocal cords when he stabbed me, thus the not so smooth voice."

"Hey now, I happen to love that not so smooth voice I'll have you know." She slides her hand out from beneath mine and I hold my breath as she lifts her arm and lays her hand along the side of my neck. Her fingers trace over my scar as she watches my face. She leans forward and places one soft, sweet, soul-touching kiss to the damaged skin. During the kisses and touches we've shared thus far I'm sure she's touched it inadvertently, but this, this was her showing me that she wants me faults and flaws and all.

It's the single most poignant moment of my life. When she pulls back I grab her face, holding it as I stare into her eyes. "Bella." It's all I can say.

My mouth covers hers and I pour all the words I can't say out loud into it. Love, gratitude, relief, need … all of it, until we have to pull apart to breathe.

Suddenly it's all too much and I lean my forehead on her knees. Her fingers slip into my hair and she massages my scalp. I'm exhausted. The last week has been so fucking long and it's finally catching up with me. My muscles are heavy and the thought of leaving this bed, of leaving Bella to go back to the boarding house, sucks more than I have words for.

I turn and find her watching, waiting for me.

"Are you okay?" she gently asks.

Her voice is so soothing. I want to curl up beside her and ask her to read me a story, or better yet, sing me to sleep. It totally makes me sound like a damn pussy, but I don't care.

I nod and a huge yawn escapes. "Damn, I'm so tired," I whisper, turning my head to kiss a crescent-shaped scar on her knee.

"Come on then, let's go to bed," she says as if it's something that has happened a hundred times before.

I gape at her; I can't help it. "What? No, Bella, that's not what I was implying," I tell her shaking my head. "I have to get up early and I don't want you to think, I mean it's not that I don't want to stay … fuck," I mutter when my mouth can't keep up with my brain.

"Edward?" Bella asks and waits until I look at her. "Shut up and get into bed." When I still don't move, she leans forward and presses her nose right against mine. "Stay with me, please? I want to wake up with you beside me," she whispers. Her breath washes over me she's so close and I shudder from the intensity.

I open my mouth but she reaches between us and places a finger on my lips. "Mom told me to take tomorrow off and Dad sent a message that if you show up for work, you're fired. So … looks like you're stuck with me tomorrow." She giggles.

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her down beside me in one quick motion. "I really didn't want to leave," I tell her once we're facing each other on the pillows.

"Today was ..." She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

Oh, sweet girl, I know the feeling, I think.

"It was."

Neither one of us say a word for a few minutes as we soak in the intimacy that surrounds us. After a few more minutes pass, she rolls over and gets out of bed. Holding her hand out to me, she pulls me behind her to the bathroom where we get ready for bed. She gives me a new toothbrush and we watch each other in the mirror, neither able to take our eyes off of each other.

When we're done, she takes my hand and leads me back to her bed. Silently we get in, her on the left, me on the right, as simple and easy as putting on a t-shirt. I pull her against me, and wrap my arms around her.

"Thank you for wanting me to stay," I whisper against her shoulder.

"Thank you for saying yes," she answers right back, relaxing in my arms.

I nuzzle her neck and brush my lips back and forth along her neck and the spot behind her ear. "I'm so fucking happy," I tell her between nips and licks.

She doesn't say anything for the longest time and I think she's fallen asleep until I hear her voice, sweet and soft float through the dark. "You deserve to be happy."

Her breathing evens out quickly after that and I lean up on my elbow and watch her sleep for a few minutes until my eyes get so heavy I can't keep them open any longer. I pull her as close to me as I can get her, not wanting to let her go. The last thought I have before falling asleep is, I hope I never have to.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

"Bella, come on. Let's go!"

I spin her keys around my finger, anxious to leave.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was in a hurry," she teases, walking into the living room as she winds her hair in a ponytail. I almost hate for her to put it up. My fingers have spent an awful lot of time over the past twenty-four hours buried inside of it, but one glance at the creamy white skin of her neck has me not minding so much after all.

I swallow nervously and run a hand through my hair, suddenly afraid of what is about to happen.

"Hey," she says softly. Her hands reach for me, resting comfortingly around my forearms. She squeezes and then steps even closer, chest to chest, and wraps her arms tightly around my waist.

I lean down and press my nose into the top of her hair, letting her citrus and fresh from the shower scent work its magic until I feel like I can breathe again.

"I miss her," I whisper. There's a longing in my chest that's been building for days. It's been over a week since I've seen Peyton and it literally feels like a part of my heart has been missing.

Bella's arms tighten and she tips her head up to look at me. "She's missed you, too. So much. I hate that it's been so long."

She lowers her head again and presses her nose to my chest. I hold her there and take a few deep breaths. As far as Bella and I have come already, as much as we've talked about and shared, this last hurdle seems almost more daunting than anything.

"What if she hates me? What if she's scared of me now?" I ask. My hands still, my heart races, and my body shakes. "Telling you about Boston was so fucking hard. How can I tell her? She'll never understand ..." My voice cracks and I have to close my eyes again to stop the images of Peyton running away from me, screaming in terror as she tells me she never wants to see me again, from flooding my mind.

"Edward, she won't." Bella tells me fiercely, her eyes burning with conviction. "She loves you. She'll understand, and if she doesn't, we'll help her to. She'll be fine, trust me."

I take a deep breath and let her words soothe me before nodding my head. "Let's go get our girl."

The words hang there in the air, and she looks at me. I have no idea what she's thinking, but I sure as hell wish I did. I want to ask, but when I open my mouth, I clamp it close and turn toward the front door. She steps beside me and my hand immediately finds hers. Our fingers weave together, and it grounds me, focuses me. We walk to her truck silently. I open her door first and help her up inside, really noticing for the first time that she looks hot as hell in a short, white skirt, a tight, black t-shirt, and a pair of black flip-flops. Her legs look unbelievably long as she pulls them in. I bite back a groan before slowly walking to the driver's side.

My mind is racing.

She's facing out the passenger side window and doesn't even turn to look in my direction when I slide into the seat and turn the truck on. It rumbles to life, shaking and loud. I turn it off though, as quickly as I can. The silence that stretches out between us is heavy with things that need to be said.

"I never should have said that," I start quietly, slowly.

As much as I wish the words I just spoke were true, the fact is they aren't. Peyton isn't mine. I love her, I would do anything for her, but she doesn't belong to me.

"I don't know what I'm doing here, Bella." My admission is hesitant but nothing but the truth. "I feel like things are spinning wildly out of control but the funny thing is I don't want it to stop. So much has changed now." I trail off and look out my own window.

I feel her hand, warm and comfortingly strong cover mine and she squeezes it until I turn my head to face her. Her features are so soft and so full of what my heart recognizes as love even though that word hasn't been said aloud by either of us. It's there, living, breathing, and so strong, if I took a deep breath, it will fill every part of me, but it's too soon for that. Knowing it's there is enough. It was on the tip of my tongue more than a few times last night and again this morning … I wanted to tell her when I held her in my arms after she told me about Evan. I wanted to tell her when I saw her naked for the first time. I barely stopped myself from screaming it out loud when I felt her wrapped around me, hot and pulsing. I wanted to whisper it in her ear when I held her as she slept, but was afraid she'd somehow hear through the haze of sleep. I wanted to breathe it into her mouth when we made love this morning, limbs tangled, bodies arching and straining. I wanted to fall at her feet and tell her when she touched my scar and bravely asked about my time in prison. It threatened to bubble out when we sat at breakfast, eating pancakes off each other's plates in between kisses and looks that set my body on fire.

I love her; I'm just scared as hell about what that means for us.

With her free hand, she pushes her hair behind her ear and the flash of silver at the top of her ear that peeks out makes me swallow painfully. I stare at the little silver ball, remembering how it felt to flick at it and roll it over my tongue. Pink floods her cheeks as she watches me stare at her and I cough, a bit embarrassed at myself for losing focus so quickly.

Now that I've had her, heard her, felt her … I only want more.

"Do you … " she squeaks then swallows. "Are they good changes?"

Hearing the question in her voice, the naked vulnerability eking out, has me leaning over the center console and holding her face between my hands.

"Bella," I say thickly, worried about saying too much. I have so many feelings surging through me. I know I need to talk to Carlisle, soon, because I'm having trouble getting a handle on them all. Her eyes search mine, begging me for reassurance. My thumbs brush across her cheeks and I hold her still so I can kiss her forehead and then the end of her nose before I stare deeply into her eyes.

"They're the best changes," I tell her sincerely. "But I'm being honest when I say I have no idea what I'm doing with you … with Peyton. I lived such a long time convincing myself I'd never have this, never have a chance to start over and find someone that makes me as happy as you do. I never would've imagined that an almost four foot tall, gray-eyed tiny little wisp of a thing could wrap me so tightly around her finger that it literally hurts not to see her." There's a flash of something in her eyes that's gone as quickly as it appears and I instantly hear Carlisle's words from last week in the back of my mind.

She's not sure how I'd feel about her if there was no Peyton. The thought wrecks me and I suck in a sharp breath. Fix this, I hiss to myself.

"But then there's this woman," I begin slowly, dropping my voice as I stare at her lips. I run the pad of my thumb across her bottom one, releasing it from her top teeth, and feel the tiny indentations in her soft skin. "This gorgeous, feisty, stubborn, amazing woman that waited in the rain for me, that knows about the things that haunt me at night when I try to sleep, that trusts me enough with not only her body but her heart, too. She's the one I want; she's what I need to be happy. You're what I need, Bella. You," I whisper roughly, barely holding back the three words that are aching to come out.

I'm new at all this relationship business, but somehow I know that Bella isn't ready to hear them.

She lurches forward and throws her arms around me, pressing her nose tightly against the side of my neck.

I wrap my arms around her and run my fingers through the hair that falls down her back. "You have to help me, baby," I tell her softly, the words mixing with the heavy breaths coming from each of us. "If things move too fast or I say something that's wrong, or if you feel pressured, please promise me you'll tell me. I've never done this before. I don't want to hurt you … or lose you now that I've just gotten you." I trip over the last few words, unsure if I've said too much.

"O-Okay," she murmurs and I can feel her take a deep breath against my skin.

I feel an easing of tension I wasn't truly aware of lessen at her promise. The past week, especially, the last day, has been one giant roller coaster and it's not over yet. I almost want to just say 'fuck it' and take Peyton to Ellsworth for pizza and ice cream, but I know I can't.

I swear to God I've talked more since I've arrived in Corea, hell in just the last week alone, than I did in the seven years I was in prison. I kiss Bella on the top of the head and then disentangle my arms from around her. "Are you okay?" I ask quietly as I sit back in my seat.

She nods. "I'm scared, too," she admits, staring at me, "but I know I want to be with you. We don't have to figure everything out today." Her eyes seem to darken, and it feels like she can see all the way inside of me. "You have to make the same promise to me, Edward. Please don't feel like you have to be the one with all the answers; we need to find them together. I've never had that … this." She waves between us, not being able to articulate what we are any better than I can.

Realizing that makes me smile.

"What, you don't want to call me your boyfriend?" I tease, waggling my eyebrows at her. Her sweet giggle fills the confines of the car and it settles me like nothing else could.

Her eyes find mine and she narrows them. Her nostrils flare and she licks her bottom lip. I can hear her breathing come in short, shallow puffs and she rubs her thighs together in the most deliciously, maddening way. "As long as I can call you mine, I don't care what other label you have."

I groan, and shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Bella." Her name comes out almost like a cross between a sob and a prayer. I'm back across the console in an instant, mouth hungry and desperate for hers. "Kiss me," I demand. She complies readily and the second our tongues meet, I lose all sense of everything but her.

"Fuck," I breathe into her mouth. "I am yours, Bella. Tell me you're mine." I need to hear her say it. I didn't realize how badly I needed it until that word floated between us.

"I'm yours," she whispers, nipping at along my jaw. "We're yours."

"Oh … God. I want that. You don't have any idea how badly I want that." My fingers twitch from wanting to pull her to me even more, needing to get her closer. "You and Peyton are all that matter to me. I don't need anything else if I have the two of you."

"You have us, Edward. She'll still love you as much after you tell her as she does now."

Her words pull a sob from my chest and I cling to her for a moment as I take a few gulps of air to try to settle down enough to drive us to The Breakers. Cherry is a bit on the temperamental side after all, so I need to be able to concentrate. I kiss her quickly, but not chastely, on the lips and then sit back in my seat once more. I'm wrung out already and we haven't even left the driveway yet. I run a hand through my hair and flex my fingers around the steering wheel before I start the truck.

I roll my window down and take a huge breath, filling my lungs with the salty, moist air that represents home to me now. I can feel Bella's eyes on me and I know she's worried that maybe she's said too much so I reach for her hand as soon as I back up and we're on our way to the restaurant.

My thumb rubs back and forth across her palm and neither of us speak. I'm digesting and trying not to feel totally overwhelmed by everything that's happened. I feel like I'm on stimulus overload. There have been too many words, too many feelings bombarding me seemingly all at once and as I drive, it weighs on me heavier and heavier. I feel a slight twinge in my chest as it tightens and there's just a faint sense of panic rising inside of me. I squeeze Bella's hand, much harder than I mean to and she gasps.

"Edward?"

"Talk to me, please. Tell me something, anything."

I don't want to have a panic attack so I breathe in and out and listen to Bella tell me some silly story about Xavier and Seth and something about a spatula and a kitchen counter. I'm only half listening; the sound of her voice is really all I need to keep in control. Bits and pieces of her story flit around in my mind and I'm pretty sure I'm happy I don't know exactly what she's talking about.

By the time she's done talking, I'm pulling into the parking lot at the restaurant. Thank God. However, once I turn the truck off and stare at the front door, I feel the panic rising again. Jesus, I feel like a fucking basket case, and a pussy to boot. Deep down I know it's my own imagination running wild but I can't help it. Bella and Peyton mean so much to me that the thought of being without either one of them terrifies me.

"It will be fine," Bella tells me when she lays her hand on the side of my face.

"Hope so," is all I can manage to say over the tightness in my throat.

We get out and walk hand in hand into the restaurant. I'm a bundle of nerves and not just because of Peyton. Rose and Alice are in there along with Xavier and Renée and I feel like I'm the star attraction at the circus when we walk in and all of them, besides Xavier who's in the kitchen, turn and look our way.

"Welcome to small town life," Bella grumbles adorably beside me and I laugh before leaning down to kiss the side of her head.

"It's a bit like a fishbowl, isn't it?" I whisper grinning a little when Renée catches my eye.

As soon as I stand, my eyes sweep across the restaurant searching for Peyton. She's sitting at a table in the corner rolling silverware in napkins, her little feet swinging back and forth under the chair as she sings quietly to herself. My heart swells just from looking at her. I really could just watch her all day, even though that sounds creepy as hell, but it's the truth. Just being near her somehow pushes all the bullshit and all the unknowns to the back of my mind.

My feet are stuck to the floor. I want to go to her so badly but I know if telling her doesn't go well, she's going to break my heart.

"Go," Bella says quietly.

I nod, squeeze her hand one time for the last bit of strength I can get, and slowly make my way toward Peyton. My heart flies and bangs against my chest, so hard it's tough to breathe. My eyes never move from her, watching her head bob from left to right and I smile as she scrunches her little nose when she rolls a napkin and it's crooked. Such a tiny perfectionist she is, which makes me chuckle softly because the wild child is such a contradiction. Sweet and snarky, independent and needing constant reassurance, funny and more serious than any child I could ever imagine.

She's perfect … she's Peyton.

"Need some help?" I ask softly when I get closer to the table.

She gasps and her eyes go wide and she freezes for a second. A huge dimple-making smile breaks out on her face and she flies off the chair so fast and hard it topples to the ground.

"Edward!" she shrieks and throws herself at me so hard she knocks me into the table behind me. I hear the glass salt and pepper shakers clink as they roll against each other. I know Bella and the others are laughing at us, but as soon as I pick her up and her little arms go around my neck, there isn't anything else I pay attention to but her.

I squeeze her as hard as I dare, though it isn't hard enough. My arms shake and my legs feel like spaghetti I've missed her so much.

"Where have you been?" she asks when she picks her head up and grabs my face, squishing my cheeks together until I'm sure I look like a fish.

"I'm sorry, Sprite," I tell her even though it's not an answer to her question.

She cocks her head to the side and stares at me, her pewter eyes seeing way more than a seven-year-old should be capable of. "Why aren't you working with Pop?"

I swallow and the nerves come racing back. "I didn't have to work today."

Her eyes narrow and I can tell her little mind is going fast and furious because she knows there's not a good reason I'm not at work, at least as far as she knows. The fact I'd spent hours ravishing her mother isn't anything she needs to come close to thinking about.

"Why?" she asks. Her voice drops and her tongue darts out then slips back in her mouth. She fidgets in my arms and when she stares at me again, I know she can tell there's more to what I'm telling her.

"Want to take a walk with me?" I ask her softly.

She nods slowly and I let her down, blowing out a big burst of air when she moves to the table and starts putting everything in a pile.

"I've got it, baby. You go with Edward for a bit," Bella says when she walks up.

Peyton wordlessly walks to her and buries her nose at her stomach. Bella and I exchange a meaningful glance over Peyton's head and when Bella smiles at me and mouths, "It'll be fine," again, I almost believe her.

I know Peyton loves me; I can feel it in everything she does and I know she can tell I feel the same way about her. I might not have any experience at all when it comes to the behavior of kids, but I know this little girl as intuitively as if I'd spent every day of her life with her. I've never, ever, believed in destiny or fate or any of that mystical, spiritual mumbo-jumbo, but there is not one question that someone, somewhere thought it was best if we crossed paths.

It goes without saying how fucking glad I am it happened.

"Let's hit it, sweet P. There's a rock out there calling our name," I tell her as I tug on the bottom of her ponytail.

She flashes me a smile and then runs toward the kitchen, yelling something about snacks and Grandma.

This time it's Bella that curls her index finger around mine and she pulls me toward her. We timed our arrival to make sure we missed both the breakfast and the lunch crowd and the restaurant is completely empty for the first time I've ever seen. She giggles when my head whips back and forth.

"You're always working now; it gets like this every day," she tells me as she shakes her head a bit.

She's totally relaxed, eyes shining bright and my jeans get a tad uncomfortable when a beam of sunlight shines on her hair making it explode with deep reds. I fight the urge to sigh like a lovesick fool even though that pretty much sums up how I'm feeling. I also have to fight the urge to throw her down on the table in the middle of the empty restaurant and see how good her naked body looks in the sunlight.

I growl at the thought.

She rolls her eyes at me.

My eyes bounce around, looking at everything, seeing nothing. "Hey," Bella says sharply, but not because she's angry. "Edward, stop," she says in what can only be described as a no-nonsense mom voice. "You need to give her more credit. She might not understand everything, but she can and will understand that you did the right thing when it mattered the most."

I hang my head. "I know you're right, but it doesn't make it any easier," I whine.

She lifts her hands and presses them against my chest. Her fingers brush back and forth and instantly I relax even though the bottom half of my body is up and ready. I have a feeling that will be pretty much a perpetual state from now on. I feel her knee push against mine indicating she wants me to spread my legs so she can get closer.

Yes and please.

"Now, go talk to her and then come back. We still have the rest of the day to spend together. I don't plan on wasting a moment of it," she whispers and plants a big open-mouthed kiss right on my jaw, complete with a swipe of her warm, wet tongue.

"Fucking hell, Bella," I rasp.

She giggles. She's not the only one. I look up and find Rose and Alice ogling the both of us without shame. For a second I cringe, but when Alice winks at me, I relax.

"Okay, you two," Rose says loud enough for us to hear, but not Peyton who is still in the kitchen. "Unless you want to put on a show for P you better cool it," she teases. Our eyes meet and the acceptance I find there shocks me so much my mouth hangs open.

The moment passes because Peyton barrels through the door loaded down with goodies. "Edward, look!" she shrieks as she bounces up and down in front of me holding out a plastic bag full of fresh peanut butter cookies.

"Well, then let's get out of here; we have lots to talk about," I tell her and give Renée a very appreciative smile.

We make our way down to the beach in only a few minutes. During the time it takes us to get there, I decide to just let go of all my worries and just enjoy spending time with my best friend again. She's going on in her usual Peyton way, telling me about everything that flits through her mind. What Lucy wants for her birthday, something about something that has to do with Will and Andrew and something called a Kinnect, then onto what Charlie told her about how to throw a fast ball until she takes a breath and says, "Is Mom your girlfriend now?"

Fuck. Me.

I stop dead in my tracks and stare at her, bug-eyed and I'm sure my jaw is on the sand. She rolls her eyes at me and I swear she looks so much like Bella when she does that it's almost freaky.

"I … we were … Peyton," I stutter, completely out of my element and unable to think of anything to say.

Bella and I tentatively discussed how to tell Peyton about us, but I wanted to wait until after I'd told her about Boston. Seems like I worried for nothing. I have no idea if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I do know I wish the sand would open up and swallow me whole … or that Bella was here.

I have no idea what to tell her but when Peyton's slate blue eyes bore into mine, I sigh, and nod my head. I won't lie to her, especially not about this. "Yes, sweetheart, she is. Is … are you okay with that?" My heart slams against my chest and I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.

I don't have to wait long.

"Oh my gosh! Edward! Yes, yes!" she cries out as she jumps up and down in front of me clapping her hands.

I laugh, I can't help it and I'm even more resolved to tell Peyton, make sure she understands, and then move on with the two of them by my side.

"Come on, wild thing, I need to talk to you about something else," I tell her quietly and pull her toward a grouping of rocks. I pick her up and set her down and then find a spot beside her.

Once we're both comfortable, I suddenly lose the ability to form words, let alone whole sentences. Everything I think of to say to her sounds ridiculous or lame or not enough or just plain wrong.

I stare out at the water, remembering everything Bella told me last night about Evan. I purposely keep my mind off the other things that happened last night, though. I definitely don't need that distraction.

I'm not sure how seven-year-olds are supposed to act, but somehow I know most of them don't sit quietly and wait for someone to start talking like Peyton is. She's running her hand back and forth over the rock, scraping off algae with her fingernail.

Taking a deep breath, I jump right in. "Peyton." I say her name slowly, clearing my throat a few times as I choke on the words I have to tell her. "Have you ever wanted to tell one of your friends like Lucy or Will something but were afraid they might not like you afterward?"

Her eyes widen and her little mouth makes a perfect "o" as she stares at me. I can tell she's really thinking about what I asked though because her eyebrows dip like they always do when she's concentrating. She nods her head slowly, and stares at me anxiously waiting to hear what I say next.

I reach out and run the backs of my fingers down her cheek. She smiles at me, so open, so trusting that it twists my heart. I tell myself to trust what Bella has said, to trust Peyton herself to be able to understand and then accept me.

"Sweetheart, there are a few things I need to tell you about me, about where I was and what I did before I moved here. We're best friends; I don't want us to have any secrets," I begin.

"Best friends shouldn't have secrets," she tells me and her mouth puckers a bit in agitation at me.

I nod. "I know, that's why I'm talking to you now." I wait for a moment then start again. "I was a pretty bad kid when I was younger. I got into fights, stayed out late, didn't listen to my grandfather. I just got into a lot of trouble." I watch her and she's stopped moving and is focused completely on me. "When I got a little older, I kept doing those bad things."

"Why?" she interrupts, though I shouldn't be surprised by her question.

I shrug my shoulders, knowing how unsatisfying a response that really must seem like. "I don't know, P. I was sad that my grandmother died and mad at my grandfather because he wasn't able to take care of me like he used to. I didn't have anyone really I could talk to and it made me feel all jumbled up inside. Have you ever felt that way? Like you want to yell and cry at the same time?" I ask her, wondering how in the hell she's ever going to understand what I'm talking about.

It doesn't really surprise me however when she slowly nods her head at me, her eyes deep and knowing. "Yes," she says so quietly it's almost hard to hear over the sound of the waves brushing against the sand and rocks of the beach.

"I was sad and mad for a long time and then I made a friend – someone who I thought was a really good friend," I say slowly, waiting for the question I know is coming.

Her head snaps up. "Like me?"

I chuckle at that, as if there could be anyone else like her. "Of course not, Sprite. I've never had a friend like you," I tell her with a smile. She huffs and nods her head, pleased with my answer. "Anyway," I continue. "He was the only person I really talked to and we started hanging out a lot. My grandfather didn't like him at all and I spent more time with Aleksei than I did at home."

"I bet that made your grandfather sad. I get sad when Lucy wants to spend more time with Madison than me," Peyton says as if it's the worst thing in the world.

"Yeah, it did. I wish now I would've listened to him because I got into some trouble with Aleksei," I say, sighing.

She gasps and I'm again wondering how much and just how to tell her about this. This is Peyton, and if I know anything about her, I know that she can spot bullshit, so I figure straight and to the point is the best way.

"Peyton, one night I went somewhere with Aleksei. I didn't realize when we went to the man's house that he was going to do something bad. He hurt the man. I stayed behind and helped him, but Aleksei ran away. I had really thought we were friends, but we never really were." The thought that I'd been so blind and such a fool all those years ago is as painful now as it was then.

I'm watching Peyton and her little face is scrunched up and I can tell she's waiting for me to continue. Now comes the hard part.

"I had to call the police and ambulance to help the man. See, it wasn't just a scraped knee; he was hurt very badly and I could only help him so much, and I wanted to help him as much as I could."

Her little lip is quivering as she quietly asks, "Was he going to die?"

Her question doesn't shock me though it really should. Why must she be so smart? I slowly nod my head. "But he didn't, Sprite. The ambulance came and they saved him." I look down at the rock that she was brushing her hand against earlier, swallow heavily and continue. "The police came, too, and … and because I was there and I went there with Aleksei … they arrested me. That is when I got into trouble. They put me in jail because of that and that's where I have been until I came here."

I can see so much of Bella in Peyton's face while she is thinking about this. Confusion – and then anger. "That's not fair! I got in trouble at school because Will was talking and he wouldn't be quiet and I got in trouble, too! It wasn't my fault, but I got sent to the principal's office and I really wasn't doing anything. That's just like you, Edward. You were just there! You didn't do anything wrong! Why did you get in trouble? You helped that man! Why didn't dumb Aleksei get into trouble and not you?" She says all this in her usual Peyton way, not a breath to be taken, and I can't help but chuckle at her ire.

"Oh, sweetheart, sometimes things just work out that way. I made some bad choices and they led me to where I was, but I don't want to think about those anymore. I want to be here with you and your mom, but I need to know if we are still best friends. I know this is a lot to think about, but I need to know if we are okay."

Peyton gives me an eye roll and says, "You didn't do anything bad, Edward. You aren't bad. You're my best friend … and … I love you."

Hearing her utter those words takes my breath away. For what seems like the longest time I just look at this little girl who has stolen my heart and given me something to look forward to, something to aim for in my future. I wrap my arms around her and hug her to me, whispering in her ear, "I love you, too, Peyton."

We sit on that rock together, just hugging each other for a few moments until I release her and look into her sweet face. "Do you want to ask me any questions?"

She just looks back at me, searching my face. "Are you okay now?"

I give her a slow nod and smile. She returns my nod and says, "Good! Now, let's have some cookies."

I just grin at my best friend and agree that it's snack time. I never expected her to take it so well, but if I've learned anything, it's that my girls are full of surprises.


~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

The Breakers Chapter 15

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 15

EPOV

"Man, you need to wear a hat or cut off that mop on top of your head," Jasper says loudly as we head toward the dock.

He's right of course, but I don't tell him that. Sure, I've gotten the hang of most things on the boat, but small things, like always making sure I have a hat on or at least in my pocket, still slip my mind from time to time. In my defense, there was a lot running through my head when I rolled out of bed this morning. For one I had the best night's sleep I've had in almost a week. Two, I woke up sporting the biggest damn smile, not to mention a raging hard-on.

As soon as my head hit the pillow last night, I was out like a damn light. The fact that I woke up without a huge weight crushing my chest was, in and of itself, a welcome relief. The fact that my dreams were obviously pleasant ones judging from the attention my dick was demanding, instead of the nightmares of the past few nights, was even more so.

"You won't lose me."

I must have replayed those words a hundred times … hell, a thousand times between yesterday and today. When Bella called yesterday I'd been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to think about the fact that it was Sunday and I wasn't going to see my girls. It didn't work because they were all I could think about, wondering what they were doing without me and if just maybe, possibly, they missed me as much as I missed them.

I'd been a mess to put it bluntly.

Saturday had been absolute hell on the boat. It was even worse than Friday, working on no sleep after days of no sleep for days before. It actually reminded me of my first few days inside Old Colony where every few minutes I was spinning around because it felt like someone was about to jump me. After a few hours of working, I turned once to find Emmett staring daggers at me and I knew, without even asking, that somehow he'd found out about Boston.

He didn't say a word to me, not one, and barely spoke to Jasper or Charlie either. He's still acting like I have the plague, and though it makes things pretty fucking tense on the boat, I can't say it comes as a huge shock, either.

I've figured this whole time that Emmett would be the one I had to worry about more than anyone … even more than Xavier. From the little things that he's said and the not so little things Bella and I have talked about, I've gotten the feeling that Emmett somehow believes that he has a say in what she does and who she does it with - a right that Bella surely hasn't offered him.

I have no idea what he knows or who told him, though instinctively I know it wasn't Bella. I'm not sure how he found out, but in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter. Everyone will know before long, though the only people's feelings I truly care about are Bella's and Peyton's. Charlie and Renée already know as do Carlisle and Esme, and they've accepted me as I am, not for where I've been. I care a lot about Jasper, Alice, Emmett, Rose, Seth, and yes, even Xavier, but if they have a problem with where I've been or what I've done, it doesn't matter as long as Bella doesn't.

She and Peyton are the only things that matter.

I shake my head and wipe water out of my face. A flash of color catches my attention. I turn. I see. I freeze.

Bella.

She's here.

Every fiber of my being comes alive, like a jolt of electricity has just been pumped into me.

Jasper says something. He could have just told me that an orange elephant was standing beside me, and it wouldn't make a difference. She's all I see. I smile and have the most ridiculous urge to wave like Forrest Gump did on his shrimp boat. Charlie slows the boat down as he approaches the dock but I don't even wait until he comes to complete stop before I jump off, unable to wait another second to go to her.

I see her drop her umbrella and then she's running. To me. My feet are moving, each step bringing us closer together. A few more steps, my feet splashing through puddles, but I don't give a shit. I reach out when she's only a few steps away from me and catch her as she throws herself into my arms.

She's soaked, I'm soaked, but I couldn't care less.

Her legs go around my waist and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her to me. My whole body screams in relief to hold her. Looking up into her eyes, I struggle to breathe.

"Bella," I manage to say, though my voice doesn't sound at all like me. Hoarse from the emotion threatening to spill out, too many words wanting to come out at one time to be able to say anything but her name.

She grabs my face, holding it firmly between her small hands and I'm graced with a smile that is brighter than the sun. She's crying, the rain is still falling softly around us, but it's as if we're the only two people in the world because everything has faded away but her.

"I'm ready," she says.

My knees wobble. I dig my fingers into her ass to keep her from falling.

I don't need to ask her for what, because I know. The fact that she's here, that she's waiting for me is all the proof I need.

"Oh, Jesus," I say though I should be saying that in thanks to above. "Bella," I struggle to say again.

She leans down and when her lips meet mine, I swear it takes all I have not to throw her down on the ground, rip her clothes off, and take her right there. Unadulterated, all-consuming need rages through me and I kiss her back with all I have. I want to bury my fingers in her hair, but I can't let go of her.

I grunt in frustration because I can't get close enough to her, not standing in the middle of the dock in front of … oh, hell. Charlie, Jasper … Emmett.

Apparently she must get the same idea because she pulls away slightly and looks around. "Let's go home and we'll finish this there. Alone," she emphasizes.

My dick weeps for joy.

I can only hope that when she says alone it means what both my dick and I hope it means. I know we need to talk, I know there's still so much left to tell each other, but I've been fighting my feelings for the gorgeous, sexy woman in my arms for more than two months now, and I can't wait any longer.

God, I hope I don't have to wait any longer.

Reluctantly I set her down on the ground, though I don't let her get too far from me. I take her hand in mine and pull her as close to me as I can get her. We walk toward the parking lot and I look around for Cherry, but don't see Bella's beast of a truck anywhere.

Looks like we're taking the bike, not that I mind that in the least. I've been dying to get Bella on it.

When we approach the motorcycle, she stands beside it and looks at me a bit sheepishly, blushing adorably. And sexy as hell, too.

"I … um … I rode with Xavier," she tells me, though I'd already figured that out.

I reach out and brush her hair back over her shoulder and then use my finger to wipe the raindrops off her cheek. It's mostly stopped raining, just a few intermittent drops here and there, even though the sky is still smoky gray.

Stepping closer to her, I waggle my eyebrows. "I've been hoping for a chance to get you to take a ride with me, now you don't have a choice."

She giggles and then looks at me. Drops of water stick to her eyelashes. There are pieces of her hair stuck to her cheeks and neck, smudges of black from her mascara pool beneath her eyes, and the tip of her nose is pink, but I have never seen a more beautiful sight.

"I didn't plan on meeting you on the dock," she admits softly.

I stare at her, wordlessly, and my mouth hangs open.

Nervously, she pushes her drenched hair back over her ear. Now that the initial shock of finding her waiting for me has worn off a bit, I do wonder what made her come to me, now, the way she did.

As if she can read my mind she rambles, "Xav came over this morning and told me about a fight he and Seth had, and when we were on the way to work, Peyton asked about you and I remembered her telling me how much you needed her right after you first got here. Then I thought about Seth and Xav not being together all the time even though they both want it, and it started storming and all I wanted … was you."

"Oh, baby," I say on a sigh.

My heart stops then takes off. I'm turned on and so fucking happy I can hardly see straight, and I pull her to me, covering her mouth with mine again. This time I kiss her slowly, now able to hold her like the precious treasure she is. My tongue dips and tastes, in and out, slow and easy. I seriously think I could stay here forever and keep kissing her, but I hear footsteps off in the distance, a car start up, and realize we need to be alone before I get any more carried away.

I really, REALLY want to get carried away.

"Home?" I ask her, peppering her lips, her cheeks, and the end of her nose with kisses.

She nods and I climb on my bike, turning to pat the spot behind me. The seat is soaking wet, but then again so is she, so I don't figure it matters all that much if she gets a little wetter. Thinking that word makes my jeans get a bit more uncomfortable than they already are. I really should try and stop myself from letting my mind go places it shouldn't, at least not until we get to her house and have a chance to talk.

When she slips in behind me and wraps her arms around me, I literally melt against her. "No helmets, Edward?" she says into my ear, and her voice sends chills up my spine.

I shake my head, feeling a bit like a dumbass. "Sorry. When it's just me I don't think anything about it," I tell her looking back over my shoulder at her.

She rubs her hands back and forth across my chest and damn if it's not the best thing I've felt, well, for about the last minute or two, since I last kissed her.

"You need to be more careful." Her voice is gentle with its reprimand and I can't help but smile at her while I hold her hand in place.

"If you promise to ride with me more, I'll buy us both helmets," I tell her, meaning it completely.

I wait until she nods and then lower her hand to my waist. I back up slowly once I get the bike turned on and then pull out of the parking lot and head for her house. As soon as we start going, she lays her head against the middle of my back. Damn, I think in wonder as I cover her hand with mine, it's amazing how quickly things can change. I knew after the phone call yesterday that things would change between Bella and me, but I sure as hell never imagined it would be right away.

Her words, "I'm ready," bounce around inside my head like one of those little rubber bouncy balls as I drive over the wet streets, being careful to not to go through any puddles. Ready, I think again. Is she ready to tell me about Evan? Is she ready to be with me … and what exactly does that mean anyway? Something as lame as boyfriend and girlfriend or is it more than that? What is the 'more' if there is more?

I think back to a conversation I had with Carlisle the day before when I'd finally been able to drag my sorry ass out of bed once I'd talked to Bella and Peyton.

I find him sitting on the steps outside their back door and I drop myself beside him with a huff and hand him a beer. He takes it without saying anything, but as is always the case when it comes to him and his damn doctor voodoo shit, all he has to do is tip his head to the side, quirk that one eyebrow, and wait for me to spill like an overflowing bucket.

"So, Bella called," I begin, fighting to keep from breaking out into one of those songs I see on that Hannah Montana show Peyton watches on the Disney Channel.

He takes a drink of his beer, eyeballing me down the bottle.

And waits.

I really hate when he does that shit, though I should be used to it by now.

"She wanted me to talk to Peyton," I tell him, picking at the label of my bottle. I can't help but smile when I think about my Sprite. I reach in my pocket and take out the seashell that has been my constant companion since she gave it to me. I'm shocked I haven't worn out the ridges I've run my thumb over it so much.

"Hmmmm," is all he says.

Ass.

I take a drink and stare out over the backyard. The sun is still fighting with the clouds though now it seems to be losing the battle, as a dark cloudbank rolls in from the east. I wonder what Bella and Peyton are going to have for dinner. I think about the fact that I still haven't gotten to play Monopoly with Peyton - a fact of which she reminded me of more than a few times during our phone call. I wonder if Bella has added peanut butter chips to her chocolate chip cookies because Peyton loves peanut butter and chocolate together, but she doesn't like Reese's.

I wonder if she has any idea how I thought I was going to throw up when I heard my phone ring when she called earlier or how just hearing her voice made everything better in an instant. I wonder if she knows how hearing her cry almost broke me all over again.

I wonder if she knows that she and Peyton are the most important things in my life.

"She told me that I won't lose her and that we'll talk soon," I continue on as if I haven't just gotten lost inside my own head for the past few minutes.

Of course he knows exactly what I mean when I say this because since she sent me away Thursday night, I've pretty much talked to him every free moment I've had. I haven't had a panic attack, a fact of which I'm pretty damn glad about, but I came close when I first got home right after. The crushing feeling of leaving her in that front yard stayed with me for hours and it took Carlisle telling me over and over again that 'I need time' didn't mean 'get the fuck out of my life' like I kept trying to convince myself it meant, to get me to calm down.

I turn and look at him when there's a long silence that stretches uncomfortably. "Are you ready for that?" he asks carefully. "You know she's more than likely going to ask you some very difficult questions. What if she asks about your time in prison, about the things you've been through? What if she wants to talk to you about the night you were arrested or how it felt to be denied permission to attend your grandfather's funeral? What if she asks you what your plans are for the future regarding her … and Peyton? Are you ready to answer her?" he prods.

My first instinct, as usual, is to get pissed off that he's implying I'm not ready, but I take a deep breath and think about what he's asked. All the things he's brought up I've already thought about of course, and even if they're difficult to answer, I'm prepared to answer them all … except the last one.

What do I want for the future as far as Bella and Peyton are concerned?

I don't answer him and he doesn't push.

"Edward, have you seen that movie Jerry McGuire?" he asks abruptly, startling me with its seeming randomness.

"Sure."

"Let me ask you a question and please, really think about your answer before you just spout off the first thing that comes to your mind or get pissed at me for asking, okay?" His voice is intense, heavy, and makes me feel immediately uneasy.

I nod even though I feel like I'm going to crawl out of my skin.

"Do you remember the part in the movie, toward the end, when things are falling apart and they're talking in the backyard?" He watches me as I try to remember which part he's talking about. I nod slowly once I have a vague sense of what he's referring to. It's not like I have the movie memorized, but I do think I know which part he means.

He goes on. "Do you remember that line Renée Zellweger says to him? 'On the surface, everything seems fine. I've got this great guy. And he loves my kid. And he sure does like me a lot. And I can't live like that. It's not the way I'm built.'"

"What? Carlisle, no," I'm shaking my head, though what he's said has my head spinning. My skin tingles and my stomach is protesting, vehemently, the beer I just swallowed.

"Edward, just think for a minute. I'm not implying anything, just trying to make a point. You and Peyton met and had this instant connection, then you meet her mother and that didn't go so well, no matter the instant attraction that was there." He chuckles a bit and I can only grunt in agreement. "I just want you to really think about this, okay. Bella is a wonderful woman. She's beautiful, funny, stubborn, and most of all, available. I just want you to think about what you really and truly feel for her, separate it from your feelings for Peyton. We all know you love that little girl, but would you feel the same way that it seems like you do about Bella if there wasn't a Peyton?

"You don't have a lot of healthy, appropriate sexual experiences to take from and Bella has experienced a trauma that most can't even fathom. It's a lot, Edward, it really is. I'm just trying to make sure you aren't rushing into something because you want Peyton in your life or because Bella is the only single woman available in your age bracket."

We didn't say much after that, there wasn't a need to, and he knew it. He planted the seed, like he always does, and left it to me think about. I laid in bed for hours thinking about what he'd said, but it always came back to one thing.

Bella.

I love Peyton, I do, but I need Bella.

Thinking back over that conversation makes me pull her arm tighter around me as I turn down her street. I know once we walk inside her house, that things are changing.

I'm ready.

I follow her inside and the energy between us is electric. The need to talk, the need to be close, the need for each other is so prevalent, I swear I can reach out and touch it. She's quiet, but doesn't seem nervous. She walks in ahead of me and I throw my keys down on the end table beside the sofa. I think briefly about the last time I was in this room, listening as she told me to leave.

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts back and focus on the here and now.

She's ready, that's all that matters.

"Here," she says softly as she hands me a towel and a familiar-looking t-shirt and pair of sweats.

I chuckle a bit at the irony and she rolls her eyes at me. "We have a lot to talk about; I figure you might as well be comfortable."

I nod, taking the towel and clothes from her. "Come here," I say, lowering my voice. I reach for her hand and curl my index finger around hers, tugging, though she comes willingly. "There's no pressure here, Bella. None. As long as you want me, that's all I care about. We can talk about how much or how little you want or nothing at all. If you want to just sit on the couch and let me hold you, I'd be all right with that, too. There's just … us," I finish and brush my lips against hers.

She closes her eyes for a few seconds and it seems like she's trying to calm herself down. When she opens them again, pools of coffee brown stare at me, filled with so much emotion that it's like I can hear her speak, even though she hasn't said a word.

"Jesus," I murmur because it's the only word I can form.

So many feelings are swamping me, the need to be inside of her warring with the need to just hold her. I drop the clothes in my hand and plunge my fingers in her hair. My lips crash against hers, and I take. I give. I want.

Tongues, lips, teeth. Noses bump, heads tilt from left to right. Hands reach and pull.

"Edward," she breathes out when I move from her mouth to her neck.

Hearing my name flames the smoldering fire inside of me and my hands drop from her hair to her ass and I press her fully against me. Relief, hope, want … ache all buzz around inside of me. I know we need to talk, I know I just told her there is no pressure, but I can't help how much I want her.

She's obviously fighting the same internal battle because she grips my t-shirt tightly in her hand, but lowers her head and takes a few deep breaths against my chest. I lay my forehead on her shoulder and remove my hands very reluctantly from her ass and wrap my arms around her waist instead.

The sexual tension lessens but doesn't go away.

I run my nose along the hollow of her shoulder and then along her jaw because I just can't help myself and then whisper, "I'm going to go change. Is it okay if I take a quick shower?"

She nods, her head still tipped down but then looks up at me. "Of course. You must be freezing to death."

I waggle my eyebrows at her after I pick my things back up off the floor and tease, "I think I'm plenty warm now. In fact, a cold shower might be just what I need."

She giggles and immediately the atmosphere is lighter.

"Give me a few," I tell her, lingering for just another moment.

I shower quickly, though I enjoy the warm water for longer than I mean to. I make a conscious effort not to get too lost in my own head and tell myself over and over again to follow her lead. Now that we're here … wherever here is … and now that this … whatever this is … is about to happen, I know I'm ready for anything, as long as we're together. I know she's as nervous as I am and I know she's as scared as I am, too, but I know we can handle anything.

I hang up the towel and run my fingers through my hair one time before walking out to find her. I wonder briefly where Peyton is and then assume she's with Renée. I miss her and want to see her, desperately so, but right here, right now, is about me and Bella.

When I walk into the living room, she's standing in front of the bookcase. She's changed her clothes as well. Now she's wearing some black pants that hug every damn curve of her legs and ass and a t-shirt that is way too tight to wear anywhere except inside, where no one but me can see how it shows off how perfect her breasts are.

"Emmett was awful to you, wasn't he?" she asks but she doesn't turn around.

I stop dead in my tracks and lean against the wall.

Here we go.

"Not really. He would have to open his mouth for him to be awful. He's ignored me for the most part; besides thinking about all the ways he'd like to kill me I'm sure."

She sighs and her shoulders droop before she turns around. "I didn't tell him. He overheard Mom and me talking on Friday and he jumped to conclusions. He was upset Dad knew about … about Boston and didn't tell him," she says and shakes her head. "I'm really pissed at him. I'm sorry he's acting like an ass but his behavior is more about me and Evan than you."

I open my mouth, but she holds her hand up. "I'm not excusing his behavior at all. Rose is going to give him a thorough ass kicking before I can get to him, but I know my brother. He's been suffering as much as I have since Evan died. He hasn't dealt with it any better than I have, either, than any of us really. He's not stupid, all evidence to the contrary." She smiles but it's anything but a happy one. "He loves me, but things between me and Emmett haven't ever gone back to like they were before Evan died."

My heart hurts for her, hearing the wistfulness in her voice. I don't move even though I want to go to her.

She reaches a hand out and traces over the glass that covers the picture. I can't see it clearly from where I'm standing, but I know which one it is anyway. It's one of her, Evan, Seth, Xavier, Rose, Emmett, and a few other people whose names she's told me but I can't remember. All happy and smiling and so young and full of life.

"We're such a mess, all of us," she tells me. "I blame myself for Evan dying. Em blames himself. Dad blames himself. It's like we're in some unspoken game, seeing who can up the other two and claim the most blame."

Her voice is sad, so fucking sad, and laced with years and years of guilt and hurt. I'm half tempted to tell her to stop talking, but she hasn't even really started yet. We need to get past this next hurdle if there's any hope of moving forward. She said she was ready; I have to trust that she is.

She stands perfectly still and watches me for a minute, her eyes searching for something, something I'm not even sure she knows. I don't move either as I let her work up to what I have no doubt will be a horribly painful discussion for both of us. I know enough from the things she's said and from the things Charlie and Emmett have said to know that the loss of Evan runs deep, not just with the Swan's but with the entire town. Carlisle, Esme, Seth, Xavier, hell even Aggie have all been affected by his death and that terrifies me.

For a whole plethora of reasons I can't even give a name to.

She walks on silent feet to the rocking chair in the corner. I remember the first night I had dinner over here, looking at the chair that seemed so out of place with the rest of the furniture. The living room is full of comfortable, classic furniture – a brown leather sofa and loveseat, a big comfortable chair, a honey-colored wooden coffee table and end tables, lamps with bright-colored shades, pillows in the same bright colors. Warm, lived in … homey furniture all except the old, worn rocking chair in the corner.

I never asked about it, but watching her pick up the blanket that is laying across the seat and hold it almost reverently in her lap, I know it's more than just a chair. I make a mental note to ask her about later because now is not the time. She does her usual and pulls her legs up beneath her and rests her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. The chair is situated in the corner by the window so I take a seat on the couch so I'm sitting facing her. I wait, anxious and a bit afraid, but vow to myself before she says another word that I will help her get through this.

"I rocked Peyton to sleep every night in this chair when she was a baby," she begins, her voice soft and far away. "I've slept sitting up in it more times that I can even count. When Peyton asked for a big girl room, she didn't want the chair in her room, said it messed with the vibe or some such nonsense." She chuckles a little and smiles in my direction when I do the same.

"Evan died before I even found out we were having a girl," she says, watching me.

I swallow painfully and try to clear my throat but there's no way any words are coming out of my mouth.

"He was the golden boy of Corea. Everyone loved him. He was handsome and funny and so damn smart. Even when we were little kids, he was always the smartest person in class. By the time we got to high school, he was even smarter than most of the teachers." She laughs lightly, reliving a silent memory that she doesn't elaborate on. "I'd known him my whole life. Our parents were best friends, and me, Evan, Seth, Emmett, and Rose were inseparable. At school there were a few other people we hung around with, but mostly it was just us. We had sleepovers, went swimming, Dad took us on the boat, Evan's mom took us to the movies every Friday night … it was just a really happy, carefree childhood.

"Things changed a bit once we got older, into junior high and high school. Growing up here, where everyone knows everything about everyone got old. Xavier moved here right before high school started. Rose and Em were already acting like an old married couple and spent most of their time alone rather than with us so once that happened, it was me and the three of them. Emmett always treated Evan like a little brother and really he spent more time with Evan than he did with me. I never thought anything about it; it was just the way it was. I hung out with some girls and did girl stuff, but most of the time I was with them. We did normal high school things with the rest of the kids we grew up with. We'd sneak out and have bonfires on the beach, or play quarters in Angela's basement … we'd even manage to make it to Ellsworth a few times a month. Looking back on it, I'm sure all our parents knew full well what we were doing; they just never said anything as long as we were careful. We all did it, everyone but Evan. From the time he hit high school, everything he did was focused solely on getting him into college … Harvard.

"He was so smart, Edward," she says as she faces me again. Her eyes are glassy and her voice shakes a bit, but so far, she's holding it together. "We always hung out after school, me over at his house or him at the restaurant with me. Most of the girls around here hated me because he never paid any of them any attention. He had no idea how handsome he was, and the more he ignored them, the more they wanted him … and the more they hated me." She sighs and shakes her head slightly. "They didn't understand, no one did, really. It wasn't that he wanted me or anything like that, all he wanted was to get out of Corea and he knew he was safe with me. His parents pushed him, but he craved it. He wanted to get out of here, go to college, and change the world. He wanted to be a doctor, an oncologist.

"I was with him when he got his acceptance letter," she tells me and even all these years later, you can still tell how proud of him she was. "We had our first 'real' kiss that night. It was totally awkward and totally like kissing my brother, but it was still my first kiss, you know?"

I can't help the insane jealousy that flares inside of me hearing her talk about kissing someone else. I mean, obviously, she's had sex but I sure as hell don't want to think about it.

"We'd always been inseparable, but after that kiss became even more so. We were young and didn't know any better. It was easy and comfortable and seemed like the logical thing to do. Xav and Seth were together by then, Rose and Emmett were already married, and we were pretty much all each other had. I was devastated when he left to go to school. I cried for the entire summer, which was totally ridiculous, even then, and so not me." She scoffs and picks at some imaginary lint on her pants. "I was so jealous of him," she whispers, as if she's confessing to some God-awful secret she's worried I'll condemn her for. "He got to leave, go experience the world … or at least Massachusetts and I was stuck here. He promised me he'd write and come back to visit, and he did."

She hugs her legs even tighter and her voice gets softer and more distant. My skin's crawling and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as a sense of dread creeps up my spine.

"The first year he was away, he came back whenever he could. He hated Harvard, but was too afraid to tell his parents that. Up here, he was the big fish in the tiny pond, but down there, he was just a middle of the road wanna-be that managed to get in to the exclusive club. He didn't come home often but when he did, he spent all his time at my house instead of his own because he just couldn't face his parents. We'd spend the time we weren't hanging out with Seth and Xavier and Emmett and Rose when we all weren't working, together," she says awkwardly.

I cringe a little but I also can't help but smile at how adorable she is trying to explain.

"Yes, Bella, I know," I tell her in a much calmer voice than my insides feel like.

She lets out a long breath and then tells me quietly, "We didn't love each other, at least not the boyfriend/girlfriend, 'can't live without you' kind of love. Watching Emmett and Rose and my parents, I knew we didn't feel the way that people who are deeply in love were supposed to feel. We were best friends and being together was comfortable and safe. I think for him I was the person who would never judge him. I reminded him of home and all the things he was used to. For me, he was all I'd ever known. I never went out on a date, never had a real boyfriend, there was always just me and Evan.

"One night, we'd had a bit too much to drink at a bonfire. I remember him going on and on about all the girls there and all the people he'd met, the things he was learning, and it scared me. I knew I didn't love him but I didn't want to lose him either. All I kept seeing was some nameless, faceless girl getting her hooks into him and taking him away from me," she says, sounding totally disgusted with herself. "I just always had this dream of him taking me away from here with him, even if it was totally wrong of me to want it. So, instead of being his friend, I acted like a desperate, melodramatic little girl and pushed him until one thing led to another … a few times over his break.

"I was so scared to tell him I was pregnant, but when he found out he was ecstatic. I knew, deep down inside, he was just looking for an excuse to leave Harvard and the baby was the perfect out. I also knew when he promised me he would take care of me, he meant it." She doesn't say anything for a few minutes and I watch her as she struggles to regain her composure.

She lays her chin back down on her knees and looks at me. "His parents were furious and rightly blamed me for ruining his life. I mean I knew he was unhappy at Harvard, but he would have stuck it out and been a wonderful doctor. He was having trouble adjusting to being away from home and everything he knew, but it was getting better. He foolishly dropped out immediately, not even bothering to finish the semester. I told him about the baby, we told my parents then his, and before anyone could even blink, he was back and working for my dad."

At that, my blood turns to ice water, and now I really am tempted to tell her to stop talking. I'm not sure I want to know what happened to him, but I know I have to.

For Bella, I have to.

"He was an awful fisherman," she says solemnly. "He was seasick all the time. He couldn't stomach the smell of the bait … he was miserable. Emmett teased him mercilessly, calling him soft, telling him that he forgot how to be a man down there with all those white collar, blue bloods. He was just joking of course, but Evan took it to heart, especially when my dad and Carl, who worked on the boat with them then, joined in. Evan would just try harder, but the harder he tried, it seemed like the worse it got." She takes a deep breath and I do, too, knowing somehow, what's coming next is going to be especially difficult.

"You know when Emmett threw Evan overboard?" she asks and I nod my head, remembering Emmett mention it. I also remember his reaction, and that of Charlie and Seth, too. This isn't going to be pretty, I think. "It was the final straw. Emmett was just being Emmett, it was all supposed to be in fun, but Evan didn't see it that way. Evan couldn't handle feeling like he was letting my dad and Emmett down, so he begged my dad to find him a job on a different boat. I tried to tell him to work with Seth in the processing plant but he refused, saying he needed to make enough money to take care of me and the baby and he could make more being out on the boat than he could working in the plant."

She takes a deep breath and her voice gets harder, bitter. "His parents refused to help us so we were staying with Mom and Dad until the baby was born and then we were going to figure out what to do." She turns to look at me and now she just seems sad and weary. "We knew we didn't love each other, but he loved our baby. He was determined we would take care of the baby together. We were so young and didn't have the first clue how to be parents, but we were going to do whatever it took to raise our child as best we could.

"So, my dad found him a job on one of the other boats. Because it was getting closer to the end of the season, it was hard for Dad to find him a job. He tried calling in favors, but no one needed any help. Finally Dad found him one, but he didn't want Evan to take it, even tried to talk him out of it, promising that he'd talk to Emmett and Carl, that things would be better, anything to keep Evan from taking that job." I watch, not moving as she squeezes her eyes closed while she takes a deep, unsteady breath. My stomach clenches painfully and I curl my fingers into a fist, knowing that what's coming next isn't going to be easy to hear. "The captain of the boat had always been an ass, one of those guys that always took unnecessary chances and pushed his crew harder and farther than he should have, but Evan wouldn't listen to reason when we all tried to tell him not to take the job, to keep working for my dad, or even in the restaurant. He was adamant he could handle it, and after the first few weeks, it seemed like he could.

"He was so proud of himself," she says as the tears begin to fall. She doesn't wipe them off, they just glisten on her cheeks and she seems so small and so lost that I have to go to her. I kneel in front of her, forgetting that the floor is hard and that I've just spent twelve hours working outside in the rain. All that matters is her. I reach for her hand and close my hand around hers, squeezing to let her know I'm still with her.

"It was almost the end of the season and everyone was trying to get one last run in. I was about five months along and still helping at the restaurant. It was storming and it was cold, so cold," she whispers and shivers as if she can feel the chill of the air even though it's not the least bit cold in her house. "We're still not a hundred percent sure what happened. From what some people have said, the hauler wasn't working properly, but the captain was too damn cheap to get it fixed until the season was over. He didn't want to miss a chance to make more money, so he took the boat out knowing that something could go wrong."

She begins to cry harder, her breathing getting choppier by the second. I stand, lift her out of the chair, and carry her to the sofa so I can hold her. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head, wondering how in the hell she managed to survive what I know is coming next. I didn't know Evan, but just hearing what I have so far makes me wish I did.

I feel her fingers clench my shirt, twisting it in her fist, as if just holding onto something will give her the strength to go on. I hope it's me she's pulling strength from because I want to give it to her.

"The line for the trawl broke … and … and the pot they were pulling up came loose," she stutters in between trying to catch her breath.

"Shh, Bella, you don't have to say anymore," I tell her, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. "No, I want to tell you everything." I can barely understand her she's crying and shaking so much in my arms, but I just hold her tighter. One more deep breath and she starts again, her voice cracking. "He was knocked overboard. The stupid asshole didn't even have a life preserver on the boat so they kept trying to throw the nets so he could grab them, but the water was already so cold that he was in shock almost from the moment he hit the water."

She sniffs and tries to catch her breath. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, though honestly I can't tell if it's hers or mine that feels like it's beating out of control. I press my nose to her hair, my fingers move against her, hoping that her citrus scent is enough to hold me together so I can hold her together.

I have so many things flying through my mind that I have to close my eyes in hopes I can stem the onslaught and focus on Bella. All I can see is an image of Evan, struggling in the water, knowing he's minutes from dying. In that moment, I'm so angry. Angry at Evan for putting himself in that position. Angry at the men on the boat that couldn't save him. Angry at the captain that was more concerned about money than safety … angry at fate that took away Peyton's dad.

I'm angry that the beautiful woman in my arms has had to live for the past seven years feeling like she was to blame for what happened to him.

"They never found his body," she whispers brokenly once she's able to catch her breath. "His funeral was the worst thing I've ever gone through, though in all honesty, I was in shock myself. Seth and Xavier never left my side and Emmett pulled away from everyone but Rose. My dad was mad at everyone, and no one smiled at all until the day Peyton was born."

She looks up at me and I swear on everything that is holy, I can see straight into her soul. She's so brave, so strong, and she doesn't even realize it. I'm in awe of her. She might not see it, and she might have moments where she needs to lean on someone, but she could have curled up and let what happen destroy her, but she didn't. She needs to let Evan go, I can see that, they all do, so they can remember him for the person he was. Hopefully her telling me about him today is her first step.

I'll be with her every step of the way if she wants me to be, if she lets me.

"When Peyton was born, Evan's parents came to the hospital to see her. They refused to see me and once they looked at her, they left and never turned back. They sold the processing plant and we haven't heard from them since. At first I tried to stay in contact them, I mean I loved them, you know? They were like a second set of parents, so I felt like I had to try," she says softly, her voice sounding steadier, thank God. "I had Xavier track them down to California and I mailed them a letter, apologizing, and pictures of Peyton, but they sent it back, unopened. I kept trying until finally the letters I sent got returned saying they'd moved with no forwarding address."

After she says that she stops talking. She sniffs intermittently and she's still stiff in my arms. I'm not sure if I should say anything, or what to say. I want to tell her it's not her fault he died, that she didn't force him to get on that boat when everyone told him not to, but I know now isn't the right time for that. I want to tell her that I'm glad I don't have to fight the ghost of this perfect, all-American guy that she still has feelings for. It might make me sound like a prick, but I can't help it. I get that he's Peyton's dad and he was her best friend so there's a part of her that will always love him, but I'm more relieved than I'd like to admit that her feelings for him didn't go past friendship.

"Do you think Evan is disappointed in me?" she asks quietly, suddenly, as her fingers make nonsensical patterns on my t-shirt. She turns in my arms, small and fragile, and presses her nose in the center of my chest. Her question slays me, especially after everything she's just told me.

My God, it's no wonder she ran in the opposite direction anytime I was around her at first, I think as my arms tighten around her body holding her as close as possible. I don't have any idea if she's done talking, though, I'm pretty sure I've heard more than enough for one night. However, I know her question isn't rhetorical, so I answer as best I can.

"Of course not, baby," I say gently with my lips against the top of her head. "Evan's parents are the ones that are missing out, not Peyton. Every person in this town would do anything for that little girl. She's so loved, Bella. You've done an incredible job raising her; don't ever doubt that. Evan has nothing to be disappointed about, trust me."

"Hmmm," she mumbles, the sound muffled by my shirt.

I run my fingers through her hair, smiling just a bit when I realize her hair's still damp from the rain. She came to me, I marvel again. She decided she wanted me and waited in the rain.

For me.

My fingers twitch as emotion surges through my body. It's as if a switch has been flipped. Everything is out in the open now. She knows about prison, I know about Evan. All the cards are on the table; there's not left to get in the way. I know what I want.

Bella.

Peyton.

A life with them, a future.

I shift her on my lap, needing her closer. My fingers slip under her t-shirt. The feel of her skin, warm and smooth beneath my fingers, shoots a current of fire, of white hot need and want, through every cell in my body. I haven't had sex in more than seven years but what I'm feeling right now goes so much deeper than just needing to find a release.

It's about Bella, pure and simple.

Like it has a mind of its own, my hand slides to her hip and my fingers curl over her hip bone. They find their way beneath the waistband of her pants and I press, feeling the soft skin give way beneath the pads of my fingers. She turns toward my chest and her hand grips my arm, fingers tentative and curious as they trace the ink that wraps around my bicep.

The air around us is charged, crackling with heightened emotions. I close my eyes and breathe her in. Rain and citrus fills my senses and my heart races.

"Bella," I whisper.

Silently, I lift my hand and bury my fingers in her hair. Cradling her head in my palm, I turn her so that she looks up at me. Our eyes lock.

I can tell she feels the energy flowing between us because her lips part, her little pink tongue darts out and flicks at her bottom lip. Her breath catches. The whimper moan sound she always makes that never fails to go straight to my dick escapes on a sigh.

Her fingers flex and nails dig into my arm. She rubs her thighs together and I can see her pulse beating wildly on her neck. My thumb stretches and I cover the spot with my thumb, reveling in her response to me.

She licks her lips and I'm done.

My mouth finds hers as I maneuver her on my lap. I hold her, one hand on the back of her head, the other around her waist. My tongue plunges into her mouth and I groan low and deep as her taste explodes on my tongue. It's been way too fucking long since I've kissed her, even though it hasn't really. It just feels that way. Her hand moves from my arm to the back of my neck and her fingers twist in my hair, fingernails scraping my scalp. She stretches and turns, while pulling me closer. I pick her up and she straddles my lap, mouths still fused together.

Our tongues swirl and dip. I nibble on her bottom lip; she sucks on my top one. Our breath mingles. Our hands explore.

I wind her hair around my fingers, holding her in place. My lips skate from her mouth to the deliciously soft and irresistible skin of her neck. I let my teeth scrape along the path and follow with my tongue.

"Christ, Bella," I murmur as I release the flesh from my mouth.

She lets her weight settle fully on top of me, her pussy pressed right where I want her the most.

There is no sound in the room except for the pants and sighs from each of us and the rustle of clothing as we move against the other. I untangle my fingers from the mass of mahogany curls and trail them down her back, fingers craving the feel of her skin instead of the soft fabric of her t-shirt. Gripping her hips, I hold her in place. My dick is screaming at me, begging me to rock against her, but I resist. Barely.

She tries to grind against me, and I squeeze her even tighter. Intense, deep pools of brown stare down at me and for a moment, I've lost all semblance of time and space … of being, as I lose myself completely in her. I lift my arms and cradle her face between my hands, letting my thumbs caress her cheeks. Everything hits me at once. The ups and downs of the past week, the terror and the relief from the other night when I told her about what happened all those years ago, the fear and the hurt when she told me to go, the elation and hope I felt when she told me I wouldn't lose her, the surprise and the overwhelming need I felt when she ran to me on the dock, the admiration I feel for her for being such a wonderful mother, the sadness I feel for the loss of Evan … just all of it.

"You're so fucking beautiful," I whisper.

It's not really what I meant to say, even though it's nothing but the honest truth.

Her fingers slide into my hair and her eyes soften as she continues to look at me. The wheels are spinning in her gorgeous head, I can tell.

It's been minutes since she's spoken and I need to hear her voice. "Talk to me," I beg. "Tell me what you're thinking."

I need to know what she wants, because I already know what I want.

Her. Naked. As soon as fucking possible.

And then I want to lose myself in her for days as I learn every inch of her body with my fingers and then my tongue. I want to learn where to touch her to make her sigh and then I want to find out what makes her scream. I want to find out whether the left side of her neck is more sensitive than the right and whether or not her collarbones taste as good as her lips. I want to know how her naked tits feel in my hands and how her nipples feel against my tongue. I want to know how she tastes when she comes. I want to know what it feels like when I'm buried deep inside of her as she falls apart and if she closes her eyes or keeps them open when she climaxes. Does she squeak or moan? Maybe she screams? Do her toes curl; does the blush that turns me on like nothing else spread from her cheeks to her chest?

I want to know it all and then I want to know it over and over and over again.

Her eyes blaze hot and bright and she shakes though there can't be any possible way she's cold with the heat bouncing between us.

"I want you."

Three small words spoken in a voice so strong and so sure they take my breath away.

There's no hesitation, no doubt anywhere to be found as I watch her, looking for the slightest sign that she might second-guess herself. There isn't any. In that instant I know that no matter how difficult and painful the last few days have been, every second has been worth it to be right here, right now. Hell, everything that has happened to me has been worth it. Giving Bella the time she needed to think, to absorb, and then to decide means now, there's no turning back.

"Fuck, Bella," I hiss and pull her lips to mine.

I devour her mouth with mine, kissing her until she's a panting mess on my lap. She writhes against me, her nipples brushing back and forth across my chest. I inhale deeply and my hands fall from her face to her tits. My thumbs find her nipples and she moans into my mouth when I circle them, letting the edges of my thumbnails tease the sensitive peaks.

"Oh, mmmm," she breathes and the warm air fanning over my ear makes me rock my hips against her. "Ahhh." Squeaks and moans fill the air as my hips keep moving against her and my dick gets harder and harder.

My hands slip beneath her shirt and when I feel her, warm and soft, I can't get her shirt off fast enough.

"Off. Now, Bella, please," I hiss, pushing her shirt up.

She lifts her arms and as each new inch of tantalizingly pale skin is exposed, my tongue is there waiting to taste and discover. She pulls the shirt up over her head and then throws it to the side, leaving her perfect, mouthwatering tits right in my face.

"Holy … so perfect," I whisper leaning forward.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that picturing Bella's naked tits didn't often have a starring role in my thoughts when I showered. I run my tongue along the edge of her bra, stopping to growl when I spy the black satin bow lying in the perfect valley between each breast.

I am losing control fast, but God damn if I want to speed things up.

I pull the front of her bra down and attack her nipple, circling it with my tongue. The pebbled skin against my tongue feels even better than I imagined. She arches her back and I pull down the other side as well. My eyes take her all in and then I'm making sure that the left nipple feels as good against my tongue as the right one did.

It does.

Her fingers tug and move in my hair. I never would have thought I'd like the way it feels to get my hair pulled, and none too gently either, but every time she does it, I swear my dick gets harder.

"Damn, baby," I murmur after I release a well-loved nipple from my mouth.

The little vixen rolls her hips forward, pressing her pussy right up against me, and I hiss. She meets my gaze and cocks her eyebrow at me. "You know I have a bed upstairs, right?" she asks as she taunts with her hips. Her hands move from my hair down over my shoulders and she wraps them around my forearms. My muscles twitch in response to her touch. How the hell something as simple as her hands on my arms can turn me into a horny pre-teen looking at his first Playboy I have no idea, but seriously, all I want is more skin, more places to touch and lick and taste … more her.

I lean forward again, my fingers at her hips, pushing, searching for the silky soft skin beneath her pants. My mouth finds her neck as she leans her head to the side exposing even more skin, teeth and tongue learning what spot is most sensitive and then which one makes her moan in the back of her throat. Her fingers slip beneath my shirt and the moment she touches my back, sparks of red hot want wrap around me, around us, and I'm so close to losing control that I have to take a deep breath to keep from taking her right there.

"Please, Edward. Upstairs," she begs as her mouth covers my ear. Hearing the raw need in her voice has me up and walking in an instant.

She wraps her arms tightly around my neck, her warm breath shallow and quick against me. I can feel her heart beat against my chest. I almost lose my balance when I feel her lips and then her tongue below my ear and then along my jaw but when I hear a muffled whimper, I stop. Turning, I hold her against the wall. My hands cup her ass and her legs are crossed behind my back.

"Hey," I say softly, nuzzling her nose with mine.

It's hard to concentrate. My entire body is flooded with conflicted feelings. One second I want to cradle her against me and simply hold her in my arms, then in the next, I want to rip her clothes off and take her … against the wall, bent over the couch, flat on her back so I can feel all of her beneath me, on top of me so I can watch as she screams my name when she comes.

I want it all.

I want her and I want her more than I've ever wanted anything before in my life.

Our eyes meet once more. If mine look anything like hers, she can feel how badly I want her all the way down to her toes like I can from looking into hers. There are things to tell her, things to ask, but all I want to do is feel.

Soft skin, hard peaks, slick folds, heat.

Her eyes dilate, brown disappearing until all that's left is black. The air around us pulsates and I know she can feel it, too. Her fingers grab, her chest flushes pink, her heels dig into my ass as she pulls herself up and presses herself firmly against my chest.

"Now, Edward. Oh, God, I can't wait." She pants as she attacks my mouth and moves against my cock, making it almost painful to move I'm so hard.

Wet, sloppy kisses are all we can manage as I carry her up the stairs. I haven't ever seen her room but somehow I know which way to go once I reach the top. I stop once we're inside and stand at the end of her bed. I want to look around but I want her naked and in bed even more. I don't wait and lay her in the center of the white comforter, following her down until I'm on top of her, neither one of us taking our eyes off the other.

I feel like I should say something, tell her how much she means to me, how happy I am that she wants to be with me … that I'm pretty sure I'm madly in love with her and never, ever, want to be without her, but all I can manage is, "Bella."

She swallows. I watch her throat move. She takes a deep breath and I watch her breasts rise and fall. She closes her eyes. My fingers trace an invisible line down the side of her neck and over her collarbones. She sighs. She has freckles on her shoulders and I move my mouth from left to right, kissing each and every one. As badly as I want to be inside of her, as hard as I am as I slowly rock against her, I want to take my time, though I know I'll give in to the need that's coiling painfully inside of me.

I let my tongue make a wet trail across her collarbones, nipping as I go and my hands find her nipples again. I pinch and roll them between my fingers through her bra and then not when I push it down. I tug and pluck, then knead with my fingers. "Damn, you feel so good," I whisper against her lips before I push my tongue in her mouth again. I swipe along the inside of her bottom lip, across her teeth, and then massage her tongue with mine.

With one hand I slide it around and through the beads of sweat that dot up her spine. Somehow I manage and fumble my way through and get her bra unhooked. I push it off her arms and when I see her naked and flushed, slow isn't an option any more.

It isn't for her either because she's grabbing and yanking my shirt and trying to push my sweats down with her feet.

"Edward, oh God," she breathes as she pulls my shirt over my head. Her eyes move across my chest and they grow wide and glassy when she spies the tattoo on my chest for the first time. "It's … you're … I …" she says breathing heavily. Her hands are everywhere at once, in my hair, on my face, my arms, over the ink on my chest.

She squirms beneath me, her hips rising off the bed as she tries to move, to get the friction she wants. I grab the sides of her pants and push them down, my mouth moving in a frantic circle from mouth to shoulder to breast and back to mouth again. She lifts and I pull her pants down over legs and then kick them off the bed. Fingers dive for her hips as I pull her toward me, pushing myself between her legs.

"Pants, off," she gasps in my ear biting at my ear, my neck.

Frenzied fingers, hers and mine, grapple with my sweats and she growls when I have to separate myself from her in order to get the damn things down my legs. Sweats and boxers both come off and when I feel her, warm and wet against my cock, I almost come right there.

"Shit, Bella," I say through gritted teeth. "I want you so fucking bad."

"Want you, too," she says between kisses across my chest.

I push a hand between us and circle her clit through her panties. She throws her head back, her hair fanning out over her pillow. I need to feel her so I slip my fingers inside, gliding through the slick folds. "Holy shit," I mutter, and move back and forth between her legs. I'm so damn hard it hurts.

"Edward, oh God," she moans as she arches off the bed when I push two fingers inside of her.

She's so hot and so tight and feels so fucking good. My thumb presses on her clit as my fingers continue to move in and out of her. I move with her, back and forth and it literally feels like if I'm not inside of her soon, I'm going to explode.

Her breath catches in her throat and I feel her nails scratch down my back. Her pussy squeezes my fingers, her hips lift off the bed, and she spreads her legs wider.

"That's it, baby," I rasp and suck a nipple into my mouth, biting gently.

As soon as my teeth close around flesh, she's coming. "Ahh, oh God, oh, Edward," she says over and over again.

I keep rubbing, keep moving my fingers until there's the slightest relaxing of her legs. At that, her panties are hastily removed until there's nothing between us. I settle between her legs again, the tip of my cock dancing perilously close to her entrance, begging to be let in.

I want nothing more than to sink into her, but I hold back. "Are you sure?" I have to ask.

"Yes. I want this. I want you."

"Do you, I mean should I get something?" This is obviously a discussion we should have had well before now, and as much as I hate having to stop, I'd never do anything she didn't want no matter how badly I want to feel her with nothing between us.

She shakes her head. "I'm okay; I mean I get a shot."

I nod, swallowing thickly. "Are you? Do you need to use …" she stutters and asks but I place my lips over hers and kiss her quickly.

"I'm clean, I promise," I tell her, kissing her again.

She nods her head and places her hands on the sides of my face. "I trust you. I want you," she tells me again and my hips move immediately.

I press against her entrance, muttering a strangled, "Oh, fuck," when the tip of my cock slips inside of her.

"More, Edward, please," she whispers, wrapping her legs around my waist as she pulls me to her.

"Wait, oh Jesus, just wait, Bella." I stare into her eyes, my arms shaking as I hold myself above her, my cock half in, half out of her. I take a deep breath and then let go, sinking fully inside of her.

We both moan at the same time and then we're moving. Hands everywhere, mine on her hip, in her hair, pinching a nipple. Hers on my ass, around my arm, my neck. Skin slides against skin, legs tangle, mouths seek, and we're both barely hanging on.

My arm moves beneath her leg, cradling her knee as I kiss her again. "Bella, oh, baby," I murmur. Wanting to say more but the way she feels beneath me, the way it feels to be inside of her is making things too hazy to concentrate on anything but just giving in to the need that's been building since I first saw her.

"Edward, oh God, it's … so much … so good, you feel so good," she whispers.

The coil inside my stomach is wound so tight, and I know I'm seconds from coming. My legs burn, the muscles tense and taut, as I try to hold on and wait for her.

When I feel her pussy clench around me, fluttering and pulsing, I know she's as close as I am.

"Yes, Bella, fuck yes." I move faster, sliding in and out, wishing I could keep going, but knowing I can't. She feels too fucking good and it's been so damn long.

"Oh, oh, ahhhh," she moans. She lifts her hips, meeting my thrust and then I'm gone, coming so hard I have to squeeze my eyes shut. It almost hurts as I come in spurts, hissing over and over until I collapse on top of her. I bury my nose in the hollow of her shoulder, letting my lips rest against her damp skin.

Her fingers run lazily through my hair as we both lay there, neither saying a word as the magnitude of what just happened settles around us.

She sighs and her nipples rub against my chest. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?" I ask, hoping I didn't.

When I don't pick my head up, she lifts my face to hers. Her eyes are shining, her cheeks are pink and hair is sticking to her neck and her forehead. Her lips are swollen and I can see the faint traces of scratches along her shoulders from where my jaw rubbed against the soft skin, but she's smiling and it immediately puts me at ease. "I'm perfect. That was perfect … you were perfect," she says gently as her fingers caress my cheeks and my forehead.

"I don't know about perfect, but it was fucking incredible," I say as I lower my mouth to hers. "I'm sorry it was over so fast. It's been … well, a really long fucking time and I've wanted you for so long," I tell her as I bite down gently on her bottom lip.

She moans and closes her eyes, settling back against the pillows. She languidly kisses me back for a few moments until I slip out of her. She growls and opens her eyes and looks at me.

"I never thought … I mean I didn't know if I would ever, and you're just … and I'm," she rambles nervously and I chuckle.

"Bella, hush," I tell her kissing her quickly before I move so I can lie down next to her. I pull her to me, loving the way she feels in my arms almost as much as I love being inside of her. "We still have a lot to talk about, but it doesn't have to be right now. I don't want it to be right now. Right now I just want to be with you."

She sighs and kisses my chest, and then I sigh when I feel her soft fingertips trace the lines of my tattoo. "So sexy," she mumbles sleepily.

I reach out to the side and grab some Kleenex off the nightstand and hand her some so we can clean up. When that's done I wrap my arms around her again and run my fingers up and down her back once she lays her head on my chest. I haven't lain in bed with anyone … well, ever and being with her, here, is almost more than I can comprehend. So many thoughts, so many words and feelings churn inside of me but I don't want to acknowledge any of them, I just want to be with her.

"Thank you," I do say though and wait for her to lift her head and look at me, which she does immediately.

Her eyebrows dip and her head tips to the side as she waits for me to elaborate. I swallow past the lump in my throat and say hoarsely, "For giving me a chance, for not running away from me, for trusting me." I run my fingers down her face and then she rests her cheek in my palm. Turning, she brushes her lips against it, kissing it before she looks at me. Her eyes are shimmering and her chin quivers.

"I need you and I want to be with you. You make me happy," she whispers.

"Oh, Bella," I say thickly and pull her to me so I can kiss her again. We kiss until she yawns, the roller coaster of the past few days finally catching up with her. I lie down on the pillows and she snuggles right up against me, fitting as perfect as if she was made solely for me. I smile at the thought, liking it a whole fucking lot.

"Rest, baby," I say softly, kissing the top of her head.

"Mmmm, this feels so good. You might not ever get to leave," she murmurs sleepily, wrapping her arm around me.

I lie there for a few minutes as her breathing gets softer, even, as she falls asleep. "I don't ever want to leave," I admit into the silent room.

Sometime later I open my eyes, feeling something warm and soft rub against me. During the night, we've turned on our sides and now her ass is settled right on my very awake cock. Feeling her against me, waking in her bed beside her, sets me on fire.

I hate to wake her up, but there's no way in hell I can wait.

I need her.

Rolling her gently onto her back, I crawl between her legs. I kiss her softly over and over until her eyes open slowly.

"Again, Bella."

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~