"Carlisle didn't kill your father, Bella," Edward told me in a low, steady voice as I stared at him in doubt. "Don't you think he'd be rotting away in a Mississippi prison if he killed your father...if any Cullen killed your father? Hell, Billy Black tried everything in his power to pin it on Carlisle. But Carlisle had an air-tight alibi. I'll tell you one last time, my uncle didn't murder your father."
"If he don't kill my father...then who did?" I asked quietly as Edward pulled his car down a long, dark country road.
"I don't know, Bella," Edward muttered as our intertwined fingers shifted gears. "But I'm gonna find out. Even if it kills me. Because that's the risk we take."
"Take for what?" I asked as the evening light wanted in the distance and the green pines branches whirled by.
"For love, Bella," he told me, squeezing my fingers in his hand and shooting me a charming smile. "That's the risk we take for love."
Love is the only force capable
of transforming an enemy
into a friend.
~Martin Luther King, Jr.~
Chapter Eleven: Allies
We drove swiftly down a long, winding gravel road. The green branches of the trees hanging overhead were just a blur as I stared nervously through the window. Occasionally I'd spot the river to my right, peeking out through the pines and oaks.
Eventually we turned off the main road and onto a long gravel drive. There was nothing about the drive that stood out to the casual passerby. In fact, the drive was nestled so closely within the forest, it could be easily overlooked unless you were searching for it.
Edward gave my sweaty hand a comforting squeeze, and I glanced at him nervously. I gave him a feeble squeeze in return. A lopsided grin tugged at one corner of his mouth, and then he stared doggedly ahead.
A large, two-story lodge-style wooden house loomed up ahead. The home was a mixture of dark wood and rock. Large windows graced every section of the house. The yellow glow of the lights inside gave the house a warm, comforting appeal. Just past the house was a break in the trees, and I spotted a glimpse of the muddy waters of the Tenn-Tom churning lazily in the distance.
The large, wooden house had a massive wrap-around porch with dark wicker furniture nestled cozily about. Flowerpots bursting with red and yellow blooms hung prettily from the eave. Giant, burgundy vases of flowers lined each side of the porch steps.
Sitting comfortably with his arms splayed across a wicker couch sat none other than Carlisle Cullen. Although I hadn't see him in six years, Carlisle's face was one I'd never forget. It was the face of my father's killer.
Or so I thought.
Edward pulled near a large garage to the right of the house. I recognized Jasper's truck immediately. It was the same primer-gray truck he'd stood by the night of Tanya Daniels's party. The truck was striking in comparison to the other vehicles parked nearby, and also to the house itself. It was neither pretentious, nor eloquent.
Edward cut the engine and gazed at me carefully. My stare was fixated on Carlisle, who'd yet to move. His eyes held steadily on Edward's car as we sat silently in the drive.
"I'd never intentionally put you in any danger. You know that, right?" Edward asked me solemnly as he reached and tilted my chin to face him.
There was nothing but trust ringing in his voice. I saw pure, raw honesty in his mossy eyes. I nodded slowly, and he shot me a lazy, sexy grin.
Edward opened his door, and I was suddenly thankful the car's interior light didn't switch on as he did so. The way Carlisle gazed at me through Edward's open door already made me feel like a fish in a fishbowl. To have an overhead light shining down on me would have made it a million times worse. Carlisle's stare was neither angry, nor frightening, but it was still completely penetrating and made my skin crawl in anticipation of the inevitable.
I jumped in fright as Edward slammed his door then opened mine. My legs trembled as I stepped out of the vehicle.
I instantly wished I had my Daddy's hand gun to protect myself. I'd been practicing my aim with it on the down-low while Alice was hanging out with Makenna or her other friends. But that gun was currently stored on the top shelf of Daddy's safe.
Edward threaded his fingers through mine and tugged me slowly beside him to the porch. The smell of steaks sizzling on a grill close by lingered in the humid air.
Carlisle continued to gaze at me, although his eyes finally left my face to take in my disheveled appearance. He silently appraised my rumbled clothes, dirty knees, and scuffed boots as I followed Edward onto the porch. I tugged nervously at my shirt, trying to pull out the wrinkles that accumulated from bending over in the garden all day. I felt as though I was walking down the plank, or maybe standing in front of a firing squad.
Carlisle Cullen continued to be the distinguished, elegant man I remembered at the funeral parlor. He wore a crisp, blue button-up shirt, and tan slacks. His arms were golden tan from days beneath the hot sun. The shiny blonde hair and cool blue eyes were still there, however, his temples turned slightly gray over the past few years. There were fine lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth, yet those slight imperfections worked to his advantage, somehow giving him an even more refined appearance. I didn't remember the laugh and smile lines gracing his face the last time I gazed upon him, which didn't surprise me. I had my eyes on Edward that day.
"Hello, Isabella," Carlisle finally spoke in a friendly, yet firm voice as he continued to appraise me.
I could do it. I could be a polite Southern Bella with a charming smile and friendly disposition. For Edward, I would do it.
"Good evening, Mr. Cullen," I said in a polite voice with a small smile on my face as I tilted my chin up a fraction. "You can call me 'Bella,' sir. I apologize for my state of attire. Edward was anxious for me to meet his family, and didn't allow me enough time to properly clean up after working in the garden all day."
Carlisle quirked an eyebrow at my words. He gave Edward a small, frown before his eyes darted back to my own.
"Well, Bella, I owe you an apology as well," he said in a cool voice as he gazed back at Edward who looked slightly sheepish all of a sudden. "My nephew is nothing if not stubborn and impatient. I'm sorry for his rudeness by not allowing you clean to yourself up before supper. He obviously didn't get his manners from his father's side of the family."
"However," he continued as he lit a cigar and puffed at it several times. "I appreciate a hard-working girl. You're the first of your kind in that regard to show up beside Edward on our doorstep."
Edward's hand stiffened in my own. Glancing at him uneasily, I noticed how his eyes narrowed a bit on Carlisle's. I wasn't a fool. It was obvious Edward had his fair share of girls in the past. He was too good with his fingers...too good with his mouth. He was handsome, confident, and charming, but he'd done me no injustice. Those girls in the past were just that; in the past. Besides, it wasn't as though I hadn't had the fumbling fingers of teenage boys explore my body. They just didn't have the same effect over me that Edward's did.
Still, a sting of jealousy shot through my chest. It was a twisting, sickening feeling, but I stubbornly brushed it aside and saved it for later. Turning my gaze back to Edward's uncle, I was met with taunting, laughing eyes. It was then I realized Carlisle Cullen was baiting me.
So I stubbornly took the bait.
"It's a shame that Edward's kept poor company," I finally said, ignoring Edward's stare as his hand clenched harder on my own. "I guess we all have at some point."
I shrugged carelessly after the words left my mouth. Carlisle's eyes widened minutely before he brushed the look aside and replaced it with a smirk. He looked at his nephew and gauged Edward's reaction. Edward's eyes bored in the side of my head as he assessed my words. It was my way of telling Carlisle, and Edward himself, that I accepted Edward had a past, but I was no angel myself.
Carlisle chuckled quietly at the irate expression on Edward's face.
"Edward, why don't you head out back and help Jasper with the steaks while Bella and I get to know one another a little better?" Carlisle suggested as he stared at me and puffed on his cigar. "When Jasper cooks steak I feel like I'm chewing on an old, busted tire. That boy can't boil water! Why Esme insists he man the grill is beyond me."
Edward nodded, much to my horror. He gave my temple a light kiss that did not escape Carlisle's notice. Edward walked away with a slight frown, and his hands tucked casually in his faded jeans. He disappeared around the corner of the wrap-around porch leaving me alone with my family's sworn enemy.
Carlisle gestured for me to sit in a chair close to his side. I opted for the chair farther away. Lowering myself in the red-cushioned wicker chair, I met his unwavering gaze with one of my own.
"You don't bend under pressure, my dear," he complimented as he took one last puff of the cigar and crushed in into the ashtray perched on the wrought-iron table that separated us. "That's impressive."
"Of course I don't," I told him indignantly. "I am a Swan, after all."
Carlisle raised his blonde eyebrows in surprise at my statement. He then chuckled and smiled fondly.
"That's true," he mused as he rubbed his chin. "You are a Swan. Have you taken that into consideration at all in this thing you have with my nephew? The implications, that is. What will happen when your relatives find out about you and Edward? Are you not concerned with your safety? Edward's?"
"Yes, I'm concerned," I finally snapped as all thoughts of being polite and charming vanished. "I tried to keep him away, for his safety more than my own! But he's as stubborn as a mule! He wouldn't let me be!"
"Yes, Edward is bull-headed," Carlisle chuckled with twinkling blue eyes. "Especially when it comes to you. Do you remember meeting him at your father's funeral, Bella?"
"Yes," I whispered, disgusted by the way he so casually mentioned my father's death.
"Do you know what he told me after we left the church that day? When we got into my car?" he asked quietly with a serious expression.
"No," I said with a frown.
"He said 'Uncle Carlisle, I'm going to marry that Swan girl some day,'" Carlisle laughed, stunning me with his words. "And I had no doubt even at his young age that he meant what he said. My nephew never says anything he doesn't mean."
I played with the hem of my shirt and stared down at my lap as Carlisle's words sank in. It wasn't until that precise moment that I realized the extent of Edward's affection for me. I knew he loved me. He'd told me as much by his actions. He'd even attempted to voice those three words the night he held me in his arms on my deck beneath the dim moonlight. But to hear from his uncle, his pseudo father, that he'd loved me all those years, was utterly overwhelming.
The idea of marriage sometime in the distant future was a ridiculous notion. There wasn't one moment in my life that I imagined myself someday growing up and becoming a wife. I wasn't the little girl who dreamed of white gowns and wedding cakes, dressing her dolls up and marching them down a make-believe aisle. I was the girl who played with army men and yellow, metal dump trucks in the dirt. The only time I'd held a Barbie was the time I stole one of Alice's, pulled its head off, and tossed it in our lake. It was revenge for her stealing and breaking my drawing pencils.
"Are you ready for that type of love, Bella?" Carlisle asked softly, breaking me from my thoughts of beheaded Barbies as I glanced up and met his unsure eyes.
"You must have at least a slight understanding of how intense Edward is," Carlisle continued as we gazed at one another. "That type of love is all-consuming. It knows no limits and no bounds. It is not shackled by the restraints of time. It is everlasting. It can also be very dangerous."
"Dangerous?" I whispered as he studied my face.
"Yes, my dear," he said with a slight, confirming nod. "Dangerous. How much do you know about Edward? About his life? His past? His present? His future?"
"Not much," I begrudgingly admitted.
"I'm not surprised," Carlisle said as he leaned back in the wicker couch and crossed one leg over the other. "Now that he has you, he's terrified of losing you. If you find out who he really is, maybe you'll change your mind about being with him."
"Never," I told him in a stubborn, sure voice. "I don't care. I don't care who he is or what he does. I'm in it for life."
"And why's that?" Carlisle asked with a raised eyebrow just as Edward rounded the corner.
By the look I saw on his face, Edward had obviously caught the end of our conversation. Gone was the disheartened frown. He stood silently behind Carlisle with his arms crossed over his fitted, white shirt. He gave me that sideways, crooked grin that sent my heart speeding and the blood churning in my veins. There was only one answer to Carlisle's question. Only one answer explained the consequences of both of our negligent actions.
"Because that's the risk we take with love," I whispered, glancing timidly between the two men as I repeated Edward's own words.
Edward's crooked smile grew wider, and his handsome face brightened. Carlisle looked surprisingly pleased with my response. I honestly couldn't figure him out. I despised the kind, welcoming way he treated me. I despised it because I desired nothing but to hate him. But there was no hate in my heart for the man sitting across from me. There was slight uncertainty and bewilderment, but no hate.
Edward eased around his uncle and stood behind my chair. I felt his fingers delicately ghost over my shoulders from behind.
"You remind me of a girl I once knew," Carlisle mused with a grin. "Beautiful, smart, sassy, stubborn as hell...she had it all."
"What happened to her?" I asked as his eyes lit up and darted behind Edward and I.
"He better say he married her," a soft, yet strong feminine voice responded. "Or he'll be sleeping on the sofa for the next fifteen years."
The sound of a female voice brought me to my feet. Standing in the doorway of the house was a beautiful woman, possibly in her early forties. Her hair was the color of caramel icing, with honey colored undertones that glowed beneath the yellow porch lights. It fell just past her shoulders in thick, soft waves, brushing across the fabric of the fitted, coral dress she wore. She was petite with soft, gentle curves, and a round, delicate face. Her eyes were hazel, and reminded me of my mother's, except this woman's eyes shone with kindness and understanding whereas my mother's were always vengeful and angry.
She smiled lovingly as she slowly approached me the way someone would approach a wounded animal.
"Hello, Bella," she said in a friendly voice with a polite grin. "I've been waiting to meet you for quite a while. I'm Edward's aunt, Esme. Or you can call me 'Mama Esme.' Everyone else around here does."
Edward placed his hands gently on my waist as I reached out and took her offered hand in my own. Her hand was soft and smooth, and I cringed as I pulled my dirty one away. She didn't seem to care about my lack of personal hygiene. She simply beamed at me as though we were lifelong friends.
The woman's sweet demeanor pricked my heart, casting some sort of strange spell over me. Before I knew it, I was profusely apologizing for my disheveled appearance. She grinned and waved her hand at my rambling in an unconcerned manner.
"It's all right, dear," she said in a soothing voice. "I hope Carlisle hasn't been giving you a hard time out here."
Esme quirked an eyebrow at her husband, gazing at him as though she already knew the answer to her statement. Carlisle looked a bit sheepish as he smiled at her. The expression on his face, as she rolled her eyes and huffed at her husband, caused a knot of acknowledgment to form in my throat. It was the same way Edward looked at me: wicked bemusement intertwined with love.
"Y'all come on in and eat before these mosquitoes carry you off," Esme said.
Carlisle rose from his seat as his wife turned and disappeared into the house. His close proximity behind me, as I followed Edward timidly inside, set me on edge. We entered the house and I gazed around in awe.
I'm not sure what I expected when I entered the home of my family's rival. I supposed I assumed the decor would be slightly ostentatious, but it wasn't. As we stepped inside the house, I was immediately hit with a sense of calmness and warmth. It felt like a soft quilt wrapped around my cold body, or the feeling of Nana's hands calming me in my youth after an awkward fall. It almost, but not quite, wiped away the feeling of tension radiating around me caused by being in Carlisle Cullen's presence.
The living room was large and decorated in chocolate brown, hunter green, and a deep crimson. Native American style quilts and rugs were scattered around the room. There was a huge rock fireplace against the far wall with a mantle proudly displaying family photographs. Soft, brown leather furniture surrounded a large, low-sitting wooden table in the center of the room. Oil paintings of rickety gray barns, rolling green pastures, and muddy, brown rivers hung along the walls.
My senses were assaulted with the unmistakable smell of a cake baking in the oven. The baker within me sternly told me the cake was ready to come out of the oven. I twisted my fingers in my hands anxiously as Esme pointed at various objects in the den and talked animatedly.
Edward, Carlisle, and I stood quietly behind her as she showed me the antique furniture she'd collected over the years, a large shadow box holding dozens of arrowheads that Carlisle found scattered about their property, and an intimidating elk head mount that stared blankly down at us from his home over the fireplace. I finally built up the nerve to interrupt her as she led me to her depression-era glass.
"Mrs. Cullen," I spoke as she turned from the curio and glanced at me in surprise. "I think your cake is ready."
Esme gave a quiet yelp as her eyes widened in realization. She darted to the kitchen with her curls bouncing against her dainty shoulders. After grabbing a pair of oven mitts, she flung open the oven door and snatched a bunt cake from the oven. Carlisle and Edward chuckled by my side.
"She always forgets to set the timer," Edward explained as we heard Esme curse lowly and toss the hot cake on a cooling rack.
"Well, look-a here," I heard a voice drawl. "A Swan in the Cullen house. Hell musta froze over."
Jasper Hale strolled into the living room from the back porch. There was a grin stretched across his face. A large platter stacked with steaks was in his hands. He wore a pair of loose, tan shorts ending below his knees and a pair of brown, leather flip-flops. The blue v-neck tee he wore emphasized his shining blue eyes and soft, shaggy blonde hair.
I frowned at him, remembering the train station and the cocky grin he'd held on his face as he and Royce King goaded me. It occurred to me in that moment that'd I'd never seen Jasper Hale up close and personal without darkness surrounding us.
Jasper shot me a wicked grin and strolled in the direction of the kitchen where Esme was busily removing glasses from a cabinet. As he passed by I took in a deep, sharp breath at what I saw on his skin.
Scars. Long, thin scars were lightly imbedded in his tan arms and legs, trailing the length of his skin and disappearing beneath his clothes. The scars were long healed and slightly puckered in pink flesh. They were hidden beneath the dim moonlight when I'd met Jasper in the past, but they were unearthed beneath the bright overhead lights in his home.
Edward's hands remained on my waist. His grip became firmer as he heard my surprised reaction. I glanced up at him in concern and confusion, but he simply shook his head a fraction. His solemn green eyes told me not to question what I'd seen, not that I would have anyway.
"Bella, why don't I get you some clothes and let you take a shower before supper?" Esme suggested as she swatted the hand of a grinning Jasper who tried stealing a buttered roll from a basket. "My clothes may be a little big on you, but I'm sure you'd be more comfortable after a shower."
"That's very nice of you, Esme," I murmured, thankful for her kindness.
"I'll grab some clothes and let Edward escort you to his bathroom upstairs," Esme said.
She left the kitchen, but not before shooting me an evil wink. I glanced at Edward, but he didn't seem to notice the slightly sinister smile on his aunt's face. Esme returned with a clean pair of jeans, a shirt, and a pair of socks. She instructed me to throw my dirty clothes in Edward's hamper so she could wash them and he could return them later.
Edward escorted me, hand in hand, up a large staircase. We entered a long hallway and he pushed open a nearby door. He pulled me into at bedroom and I glanced around curiously.
I faced nothing but glass in front of me, for one wall was nothing but several huge floor-to-ceiling windows. A large bed covered in a midnight blue comforter with matching thick, fluffy pillows sat against the wall to my left. The other walls held shelves of albums and books. I ran my fingers across the bindings of the books, recognizing several familiar titles and authors. Edward's record collection was quite impressive and I was secretly pleased that he seemed to have the same love of classic country music that I had. An oak desk sat nearby with papers and envelopes scattered about.
The names of various college letterheads grabbed my attention. I picked up the first one my eyes landed on as Edward snatched it from my hand.
"That's private," he muttered, gathering up the various papers and shoving them in the desk drawer.
I raised an eyebrow and stared at him indignantly as I said, "Really? Just like my sketchbook was private? That didn't stop you from taking it from me."
Edward sighed and rubbed his fingers briskly against his forehead. I turned away from him and strolled around the room, gazing at the various items that sat on his shelves. A realistic model of a skeleton sat on one shelf, and a model of the human brain sat beside it. I noticed a book laying beside the models with a sketch of a human brain on the cover. I picked it up and flipped it over, reading the back of the book.
"It's about epilepsy," Edward quietly confessed as my head snapped up at his voice. "My father...he had epilepsy."
"Are you going to college to become a doctor or something?" I asked him as I placed the book carefully where I found it.
"I was..." he said with his voice trailing off at the end.
I glanced up and met his serious stare. His eyes darted across my features as my own eyes narrowed at his words. Edward swallowed and gave me a lopsided grin.
"Don't smile at me like that," I snapped. "What do you mean 'you was?' Why aren't you now?"
"That's before I found you," he said with a careless shrug. "I can't leave you now...now that I've finally got you."
"Edward," I whispered, horrified. "You can't turn down an opportunity like that for anyone! Get that out of your head right now!"
"Let's talk about it later," he said, brushing the conversation to the side as I glared at him.
Edward pulled my stubborn body into his arms and planted a slow kiss on my lips. I didn't return it at first, because I was still pissed off that he'd even think about turning down an opportunity like he'd been given. But my body soon won against my mind, and I found myself molded to him as he deepened the kiss. I pulled away from him as the memory of those college acceptance letters flashed through my mind, but the next words to fall from his mouth would become my undoing.
EPOV
"Come here and let me give you some sugar," I drawled as I shot her a grin and pulled her to my bed.
"You've already given me some sugar," she said with a glare and a frown, as the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and I sat down.
Bella was mad at my admission, but I'd been truthful with her. There were times in my life when I couldn't be honest, not with her, not with anyone, so anytime the opportunity arose to voice the truth, I took it.
I wanted her. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She was a part of me. We were cut from the same fabric. We had the same background, the same fucked up lives, the same family rivalry. She was strong, responsible, beautiful, smart, and she was killing me.
She was killing me wearing a red plaid shirt, frayed daisy dukes, and a pair of old, worn cowboy boots. There was a light dusting of dirt streaking across her legs from her knees to her thighs. Something about her being physically dirty made me crave her body that much more.
I grabbed the back of her knees, pulling her small, warm body to mine, and closed the distance between us. Bella stood between my legs and tangled her small hands through my hair.
"I didn't say anything about giving you sugar on your mouth," I clarified as I reached beneath the leg of the tiny cut-off shorts and ran my fingers across the front of her silky panties. "I want to give you some sugar here."
Bella let out a strangled gasp as my thumb ran across her clit. The front of her panties were already soaking wet. Pushing her panties aside, I began slowly massaging her clit, humming in happiness as she grew wetter with each stroke.
"I just want a taste," I clarified as I dipped one finger inside her and carefully swirled it around inside her tight, wet body.
"Edward," she moaned, tugging my hair roughly in her hands.
I loved it when she pulled my mother fucking hair.
I dipped another finger inside her, deeper, rougher, and her knees practically buckled at the action. Something snapped inside me as Bella moaned and yanked harshly at my hair. I slowly stood up and towered over her as I continued to pump my fingers deep within. She gazed up at the dark, hungry expression on my face. Bella's chocolate eyes were wide in fear and lust as I looked down at her. She probably knew my intentions as I confessed my desire to taste her, and I hoped I would be the first to ever pleasure her that way.
"I bet you taste so good," I whispered as I removed my fingers from within her and brought them to my mouth. "Have you let anyone else kiss those lips, Bella? You know which ones I'm talking about."
"No," she gasped as she watched me suck her wetness from my fingers.
The expression on her face was comical. She didn't know whether to be disgusted or turned on.
"Hmmm...salty and sweet," I smirked as I removed my fingers from my mouth.
"This shirt has to go," I muttered as I clutched the thin, red plaid fabric and pulled the shirt open.
The metal clasps popped with each tug, and I was rewarded with the most delicious sight. Bella was once again braless. The shirt fell from her shoulders and drifted to the floor near her boots. If my dick wasn't hard before, it was then.
Bella's labored breathing was all I heard as I cupped her breasts in my hands. They were perfect; not too big, not too small. They fit in my hands like they were made for that sole purpose. Her skin was soft like velvet, and her nipples were pebbled, rosy, and strained between my fingers.
"Can I give you some sugar, Baby?" I whispered in her ear before licking her earlobe, sucking it in my mouth, and twisting her nipple between my fingers. "Can I kiss you down here?"
I let one hand abandon her breast and trail beneath her shorts. My fingers returned to her wet sex. A throaty whimper was her only response to my question. I took that as a mother fucking yes, removed my fingers, turned her around, and gently pushed her on the bed.
Bella landed on her back with her breasts bouncing slightly as she leaned on her elbows. A mixture of emotions played across her face: fear, uncertainty, longing. She scooted back on the bed away from me, with wide eyes, as my knees hit the mattress. I crawled towards her, stalking her like I was the predator and she was the prey. When her head knocked gently against the headboard she froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"Answer me, Bella," I told her in a firm voice. "Can I kiss you here? Can I taste you?"
I brushed my fingers against the seam of her shorts between her legs, making sure I didn't touch her bare skin. I was torturing her, teasing her with gentle strokes, as I impatiently awaited her response. It was a shitty thing to do, but I couldn't care less. I wanted her in my mouth, and when I wanted something I didn't stop until it was mine.
Bella said nothing. After taking one deep, ragged breath, she unbuttoned her shorts and tugged at the zipper. I shoved her shaky hands away and yanked both her shorts and panties down in one hard tug. I threw them carelessly over one shoulder, grabbed her knees, which she had pried together, and pulled her legs apart.
"Don't be scared, Baby," I whispered as she gazed nervously at me. "I'll make you feel so good. Can I make you feel good, Darlin'?"
That word did something to her. I learned that the night we spent under the stars. Bella's eyes glazed over at the word. She nodded as I smirked down at her and pulled my shirt over my head. Bella stared at my bare chest and took a deep breath. Afraid she'd change her mind, I dove in, so to speak.
I took my time before tasting her. I spread her open with my fingers, gazing at her pink, wet folds before gently stroking her swollen clit with my thumb. Bella swore below her breath as she moaned and fisted the sheets in her hands. I glanced up and met her dark eyes. I loved it when my baby watched me touching her.
Keeping my eyes on hers, I flicked my tongue lightly against her clit and grinned as she hissed and then squirmed against my mouth. I nibbled, sucked, and licked her clit until I found what worked for her. She liked it when I flicked my tongue up and down against that hard nub. She loved it when I ran lazy, torturous circles against it. And rough. My baby also liked it rough. She didn't want me going easy on her.
I could tell she was nervous by the way her legs constantly drew together as her thighs trembled beneath my hands. I simply pushed her thighs open wider, fueled by the moans escaping her lips and the way she grasped my hair between her fingers.
Slipping one finger deep inside her, I smirked as her hips arched and she pressed herself fully into my mouth. Satisfaction and pride washed over me because I did that shit. I made her feel that way.
After working her with my middle finger for a while, I added another one, pushing it inside her taut, wet body. I snickered against her nub as she pressed her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to drown out her screams. The movement of her hips increased as she drove herself harder against my fingers and mouth.
Bella's back arched off the bed as I slowly pumped my wet fingers inside of her. I gazed up at her pert breasts and her perfect, puckered nipples. Reaching up, I gave one a pinch with my free hand, and that's when I recognized a familiar expression on her face.
Chocolate eyes filled with tears stared down at me in desire and yearning. When she teared up, I knew she was close to the point of no return.
I tweaked at her nipple again, rolling and pinching it as she grew wetter and wetter. I flicked my tongue faster over her nub. Curling my fingers up inside her, I pumped, sucked, and licked frantically until I felt her tighten around my fingers.
Her body quaked and clenched around me as she gasped, moaned, and yelled my name. A grin crossed my face as she feverishly ground herself against my mouth and fingers, desperately riding out her orgasm. Her chocolate hair was splayed out around her, and her cheeks were stained pink. I gave her nub one last flick of my tongue before I slowly crawled up her body.
I was shocked when she pulled my face down to hers and gave me a deep kiss. Bella didn't seem to mind tasting herself on my tongue. Before I knew it I was grinding myself against her and she was fumbling for my zipper.
"Bella," I said in a warning voice. "I've already told you..."
"I don't care," she moaned against my mouth. "Can't I kiss you the way you kissed me?"
There were two sides of me. Bella created the good side. She created the person I had wanted to become my entire life: a nice guy, a gentleman who wouldn't take advantage of a virgin.
The goodness within me was usually drowned out by the evil lingering just below the surface. She was mine...my Bella, the girl I'd longed for since I was a kid. I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't jack off to images of her every night. Sometimes she was riding my face, sometimes she was bouncing on my cock, and sometimes I was driving into her from behind. There was nothing gentlemanly about the things that ran through my mind on a daily basis.
"Fucking fine," I muttered, scooting off the bed and letting her unbuckle my belt.
I couldn't help but smirk as she stared at the bulge in my jeans. I knew I was a big boy. Hell, I actually felt a little sorry for my girl.
She yanked my jeans below my hips and I kicked them off my legs. Bella sat on her knees with her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. That sight alone caused my dick to twitch in my boxers, and she gasped at the action, causing me to laugh.
"Don't worry, baby," I told her as I reached out and ran my fingers through her silky hair. "He doesn't bite, but he does spit."
Bella scowled at my crude words and I couldn't help but laugh. Ignoring my chuckles, she reached out and tugged at my boxers, slowly pulling them down. My dick sprang free, and she jumped back in alarm.
"I'm...I mean...can you tell me what to do?" she asked, staring up at me solemnly with that damn lip between her teeth yet again. "Can you show me what to do?"
Fuck. Those words made me even harder. I reached down and started stroking myself as she gazed at me in wonder. She was so innocent, and I felt like an evil villain, twisting his mustache, instructing her on how to give me head as I stole her virtue, but it was also a fucking turn on.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
She nodded solemnly and I almost laughed at the serious expression on her face. I held back the chuckle, creeping closer to the bed as I continued to stroke myself. Bella's big doe eyes gazed up at me. I opened my mouth to tell her the first step when someone started beating on the door.
Mother fucking cockblocked.
BPOV
Edward escorted me to a huge bathroom that was almost the size of my bedroom. The mirror over the sink showed a nervous, yet sated girl with big brown eyes and a dirty face.
I couldn't believe I allowed Edward to give me oral sex after I was sweating in Nana's garden all day. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, from the sounds coming from his throat as his tongue brushed against my body, he liked the way I tasted.
If Jasper hadn't banged on the door and yelled for us to hurry up, there was no doubt in my mind that I would have returned the favor. I'd been thinking, no, obsessing over it for the past couple of weeks. Edward couldn't hide the conflict in his eyes as I offered to please him the way he pleased me. But he caved, and he would cave again. It was only a matter of time before the two of us would be together, in every way possible.
Shoving the thoughts of what we'd just done aside, I used the facilities and scrubbed sweat, dirt, and the smell of sex off my body with gardenia-scented soap. Esme was thoughtful enough to tuck the scented soap inside the clothes she handed me. I scrubbed the dirt from my face until my cheeks flamed from the friction. I was embarrassed that it'd been there without my knowledge.
There was dirt still deeply imbedded beneath my nails, but there was little I could do about it at the moment. I dried my body with a thick, fluffy towel, and slipped into Esme's clothes.
Edward told me that he'd meet me downstairs so we wouldn't look so suspicious. I had rolled my eyes, knowing he honestly couldn't care less if his family knew what we'd done in his bedroom.
After tossing my filthy clothes in Edward's laundry hamper, I slipped from his room and froze in my tracks. Standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, was a girl I'd never seen before in my life.
The western-style wall sconces lining the hallway cast a soft, yellow glow on her long, blonde tresses, giving her the illusion of a halo floating above her head. She was beautiful, and could easily be mistaken for an angel with her clear, smooth skin, deep blue eyes, and pouty lips. The girl was around my age, and was tall and curvy. She was what Emmett would call a 'thick girl,' but carried it fantastically. She wore a pretty, sleeveless, lilac dress that hugged her shapely figure. My eyes darted involuntarily to the thin scars running along one side of her arm. Noticing my stare, she raised her chin minutely and crossed her arms over her chest. The two of us stared warily at one another for a long moment before she finally spoke up.
"If it isn't the infamous Miss Bella Swan," she said as the wariness disappeared and a smile slowly crept over her face. "And to think that I believed you were a figment of Edward's imagination all this time."
"Rose?" I guessed.
Edward had mentioned Rose in conversation. Like with Jasper, he failed to mention her scars or the source of them. All I knew of Rosalie Hale was that she graduated high school the year before, and would head off to college soon to pursue an education in pediatric medicine.
Although I didn't know her or Jasper very well, I was strongly impressed by them. They wore their scars like battle wounds. They could have hid them beneath layers of clothes, but no. They were on full display for anyone to see.
"The one and only," she smirked, pushing herself off the wall and shocking me with a hug.
"I always knew exactly what I'd say to you if Edward brought you home," she muttered into my hair as she embraced me. "I've rehearsed it in my head a million times."
"And what's that?" I asked as she pulled way just far enough to stare solemnly into my eyes.
"I accept you for who you are," she told me with a sickening sweet smile. "But Edward is like a brother to me, and if you hurt him, I'll kill you."
I didn't doubt her words. Rose's hands drifted from my back to my shoulders. She squeezed them slightly to reiterate her point. Her French-tipped nails pressed against my skin, not painfully, but forceful enough to silently communicate she could do some real damage with them if need be. There was a seriousness shining in her blue eyes I immediately recognized. I vaguely wondered if I resembled her when I threatened Alice's male suitors in the past.
"I won't hurt him," I promised. "If I do, you have my full permission to put me in my place."
"Oh, honey," Rose purred, reaching up and patting me softly on my face. "What makes you think I need your permission?"
With that, she raised an eyebrow at my frowning face, laughed at the way I glared at her, placed her arm through mine, and escorted me to the dining room. The girl was strange, but I found myself liking her. She reminded me of Kate in a way. Rose wasn't as crude as Kate, but she was vocal and honest with her thoughts. I had a feeling Rosalie Hale and I would become very good friends.
Supper was a strange affair to say the least. I sat at a large, walnut table on a deep, cushioned chair, gawking at the fancy dinnerware and place settings in front of me.
I guessed running a factory has huge perks, I thought sarcastically to myself as I shook my head over the irony of my situation. I'd always hated the drug business that my family involved themselves in, and there I was falling into the same situation by choosing Edward: dirty money, lies, and secrets.
Edward's hand running up the inside of my thigh broke me from my reverie. I pretended I didn't notice his fingers ghosting across my leg as his family chatted to one another.
Cutting a piece of steak, I shoved it in my mouth and watched Esme talk about color schemes in rapt attention. I think she said she was altering the decor in the house, but it was hard keeping up with the conversation with Edward's fingers dawdling up my inner thigh. Edward abruptly grew impatient with my refusal to acknowledge his touch. He cupped his hand almost angrily between my legs, causing me to jump and drop my fork.
"Bella, what's wrong, dear?" Esme asked as she took in my red cheeks and deep gasp of shock.
Edward continued calmly eating with his head down. I opened and closed my mouth several times trying to formulate a response. He never stilled in his actions as he firmly stroked the inseam of my jeans beneath the table. Bold and bad, that boy was.
"I just...get really excited...over decorating," I panted, squirming slightly in my seat as I heard Rose snort from somewhere nearby. "Maybe I can help you?"
Esme beamed and nodded enthusiastically. Jasper snickered from his place at the table, poorly hiding the sound by shoving a forkful of baked potato in his mouth.
Reaching below the table, I pinched Edward's arm as hard as I could, but it didn't faze him a bit. He grinned smugly at me between bites as we finished supper and then dessert, still rubbing away. My nipples pressed painfully against the thin fabric of my shirt. I slouched slightly in my seat, trying to hide them from view. The tingling between my legs increased tenfold throughout supper, and my forehead was beaded in a cold sweat. My body was on fire and I couldn't wait to be alone with Edward. I'd either kiss him or kill him.
"So, Bella, Edward tells me you're eighteen and a senior this year," Carlisle said as Esme collected our dessert plates. "How is it that you haven't graduated?"
"My birthday is in September," I explained. "My father thought it'd be best if I waited an extra year before staring kindergarten. He was worried about me starting too young. My birthday was so close to the cut-off date in August. He didn't want me falling behind the other kids in class."
"That was a wise decision," Carlisle mused thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "But then again, your father was always smarter than people gave him credit for."
Edward's hand finally left my body. I stared stunned at Carlisle. All the tingling from Edward's touch turned my brain into a puddle of mush. Had Carlisle complimented my father? Surely I was delusional.
"Maybe y'all can continue your conversation on the veranda?" Esme piped up, shooting Carlisle a small smile.
My stomach clenched in nervousness as I followed Edward outside. The thought of conversing with Carlisle Cullen about...anything, especially my deceased father, made me nauseous.
What Esme referred to as a 'veranda,' I called a 'screened-in porch.' It held the same furniture as the front porch: dark wicker with deep cushions, and resin tables. Tall, glossy, green plants, with leaves the size of baby elephant ears, sat intricately around the porch, tucked in between the various pieces of furniture. Flowers bloomed everywhere, casting their fresh, fragrant scent in the air around us.
The sound of the river nearby reminded me of Edward and I laying on a pier. A huge, round, outdoor bed sheathed in pillowy, white cushions sat nestled in the far corner of the veranda. An image of Edward and I, naked, pressed against one another on that bed set my body on fire once more. Glancing up at him, I was met with a knowing smirk.
"They'll go out of town before summer is over," Edward whispered in my ear as his thumb ran across my bottom lip. "We'll make good use of that bed, that is, if you want to."
Edward smirked at the dumbfounded expression on my face. He dropped himself lazily in a wicker love seat, his infamous crooked grin spread across his face. He pulled me onto his lap, ignoring my protests. I didn't want his family thinking I was some sort of two-bit hussy. Carlisle soon strolled through the doorway and paused, watching as I battled to remove myself from Edward's lap.
"It's fine, Bella," Carlisle spoke up, lighting a cigar and sitting down nearby. "Y'all don't have to act any differently on my account."
Edward's arms tightened around me and he nuzzled my neck. I stopped struggling against him. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the feeling of his warm body against my slightly flushed one, or the way his warm breath tickled my neck as his nose brushed against my cheek. I was simply embarrassed by his display of affections in front of his uncle, and slightly uncomfortable by how nonchalant he was about it.
"Bella, there's some things we should discuss if you plan to pursue a relationship with my nephew," Carlisle began, puffing away at the cigar. "Things you should know."
"Okay," I mumbled hesitantly, snuggling myself deeply in Edwards arms, and dreading whatever Carlisle had to say.
"First of all, I hope being kept in the dark about certain aspects of our lives doesn't bother you," Carlisle said, staring at me scrupulously with his steely blue eyes. "There will always be a level of distrust between you, Edward, and our family. It has nothing to do with who you are, per say, although I'd be lying if I said the fact that you're a Swan doesn't bother me. It does concern me, and always will."
"If that's not the case, then what is? Why do you distrust me?" I asked.
"Because betrayal is all we've ever known," Carlisle immediately answered. "Cops, lawyers, judges, friends, and even family can never be trusted. You seem like a fairly intelligent girl. I'm sure you've heard the rumors of my family's business. And I'm not talking about the factory we own."
"Yes, sir," I muttered.
"Our side business will never be discussed with you," he continued. "In five, ten, fifteen years, if you're still with Edward, you will continue to be non-the-wiser as far as that aspect of his life is concerned. It's not only because of distrust, Bella. It is also for your own protection. I treat Esme the same way. She is aware of what I do for a living, but knows nothing of the finer details of that side of me. Is that something you can live with?"
I pondered his words carefully, taking a long moment to muse over what he'd said. Edward's body stiffened beneath me as I took my time, weighing in on a life that he desired me to become a part of. I'd done nothing the past few years but frown upon the drug trade. If I chose Edward, I'd be thrusting myself directly in the midst of illegal drug trafficking. Turning my face to one side, I met his probing green eyes and made my decision.
"I've already chosen Edward," I replied with nothing but honest sincerity in my voice. "I understand there's reason for y'all to mistrust me and my family, although it does sting a little knowing Edward will never trust me. But it's not as though he's taking the easy path in life by being with me. My family hates yours. I have no idea how this is going to work, but I'm willing to try."
"Trust has to be earned, Bella," Edward's dark voice whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine. "Along with trust comes the truth. Are you ready to hear the truth, Bella? Are you ready to hear the truth about your father's murder?"
Edward's cryptic words caused my body to freeze in his arms. My heart picked up speed in double time as I met Carlisle's solemn gaze. I found myself nodding numbly as Carlisle gave a stern nod in reply. He crushed the cigar in an ashtray and stood up, disappearing inside the house. Edward rubbed my arms soothingly as we awaited his return. I knew in the deepest recesses of my heart that whatever Carlisle revealed on that veranda would change me, and everything I'd come to believe about my father, my family, and the Cullens.
When Carlisle returned it was with a picture frame clutched in his hands. He handed it to me and returned to his seat. I took it from him with shaky fingers and stared at the photograph in shock.
It was a photograph of my father, just as I remembered him in the time before his death. He was tall and ruggedly handsome, with happy brown eyes and his signature thick mustache. Standing to his left was a younger Carlisle Cullen, and to his right an unfamiliar male.
The unfamiliar man had chiseled structures: prominent cheekbones, a slight cleft in his chin, sandy brown hair, and starling mossy green eyes. I knew immediately, without ever meeting him, the stranger in the photograph was Edward's father. The men stared at the photographer with matching serious expressions on their faces. The background of the photo was a new kind of familiar. Carlisle's living room fireplace stood in the backdrop of the photograph.
"What is this?" I whispered. "I...I don't understand."
"Your father, my brother, Eddie, and I were in the midst of negotiations between our families," Carlisle told me as I glanced up in shock. "Charlie and Aro had some sort of falling-out with one another. Eddie knew the details, but took them to his grave before I could learn the truth about why Charlie turned against Aro.
"That photo was taken two days before my brother was murdered. The night he died was the night we were to finalize our negotiations. Eddie went to meet Charlie, but never returned. I was unable to attend the meeting and my brother died. If only I'd been there...maybe I could have saved him. I've lived with the guilt of that all these years."
"Where were you?" I asked, staring back down at the photo. "When your brother was murdered?"
"Mobile, Alabama," Carlisle sighed. "Meeting with...an associate of mine. An important shipment arrived that I had to be present for. Normally I don't leave a paper trail when I'm out of town on business, but by the grace of God, I used a credit card at a gas station in Gulfport. The store also had me on camera. I'm sure my brother's death would have been pinned on me by Billy Black. He was supposedly on patrol that night, making his rounds on the outskirts of town. He claimed he heard a gunshot and went to check things out. That's when he found my brother's body. I'm sure I narrowly escaped death myself that night. Billy and your uncles have been after me for years."
"So you believe my father was involved as well?" I questioned in a disgusted voice as I placed the photo on the table in front of me. "You think he was faking the negotiations to lure the two of you to that field?"
"No, I don't believe your father was involved," Carlisle answered, staring at my face grimly. "I do believe that your Uncle Aro and Billy Black were involved in the death of my brother. I think Aro found out about our secret negotiations and took matters into his own hands."
The truth weighed heavily on my heart as Carlisle silently appraised me, contemplating the guilty expression on my face. Edward shifted beneath me, taking my small hands in his large ones. There was a colossal part of me that speculated it was all a trap: inviting me to dine with them, showing me nothing but acceptance, Edward's undying devotion to me since the age of twelve. If it was a trick, I was falling for it. Guilt had weighed me down for years, making me bitter and weary.
"If I knew the truth about your brother's murder, would you tell me the truth about my father's?" I asked, studying his passive face.
Edward's slightly calloused hands stilled against my arms. I heard his breathing and the steady strum of his heart against my back pick up speed. He may never trust me enough to divulge certain aspects of his life, but that didn't mean I couldn't try to earn his trust in other ways.
"My sources say that Aro murdered your father," Carlisle said in a low voice, not waiting on me to confess his brother's murder before confessing my father's. "I have no evidence of this. It's just hearsay, really. I wasn't involved, Bella. In fact, the night of your father's murder, I was being held in a Louisiana jail for questioning in the disappearance of a man. Now, that man I did murder, but that's a body that'll never be found. The alligators in Louisiana swamps rarely leave any evidence."
Carlisle's assumption that Aro was involved in my father's murder should have shocked me. Aro was my flesh and blood, after all. I'd witnessed Aro's evilness first-hand. Nothing Aro did surprised me anymore, even if it involved killing his own brother.
Carlisle's own murder confession, however, sent shivers throughout my body, and goosebumps to cover my arms. He professed that he trusted no one, but he gave me that tidbit of information to prove something. Whether it was to prove how dangerous he really was, or to bribe me into confessing who his brother's murderer was, I'd never know. Whatever it was, it worked.
"Aro told me, in confidence at my father's funeral, that he murdered Edward's father," I whispered. "That's all I have...no evidence. I just have the words of an evil man who confided in his twelve-year old niece."
"This doesn't surprise me," Carlisle whispered, shooting Edward a look of acknowledgement. "Edward and I have believed Aro to be the perpetrator in Eddie's death since the beginning. It's a shame you have no other evidence...no other way to prove he is the killer."
"There must be a way to prove it was Aro who killed our fathers," Edward muttered bitterly. "How can we prove it, Carlisle?"
Carlisle looked thoughtful for a moment as he and Edward stared silently at one another. A soundless communication seemed to develop between the two men. I felt Edward nod his head, and as the action caused my hair to brush delicately across my face.
"We need allies," Carlisle finally spoke as his eyes darted from Edward's to mine. "How do you feel about that, Bella? Would you like to join forces with us? Can you gather other allies in your family? Is there any part of Charlie Swan lingering inside you?"
Carlisle was baiting me again, using my father's own betrayal of his family to bribe me, and again, it worked.
I thought of Alice, Kate, Em, and Benjamin. The boys would be harder to convince, but Kate and Alice's attraction to the Cullen boys might work in my favor. I made another resolution, then and there. It was a decision which would, yet again, change the course of my life forever.
"Yes," I said in a stronger, braver voice than I really felt as Edward gently kissed my temple. "I think I know exactly how to gain allies."
Carlisle smiled a slow, twisted smile as he puffed on the cigar. Smoke billowed around his head, making him look like a handsome, yet evil, angel.
"Good girl," he purred as the grin grew wider and smoke rolled from his lips.
Edward dropped me off just before midnight. He stopped at the end of the driveway, right where he'd picked me up earlier that night.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and allowed him to pull me flush against his body. The hard planes of his chest and abdomen pressed against the softness of mine. I moaned into his mouth as our tongues met. Some small part of me screamed that I was kissing the devil, and eventually he'd drag me to hell.
It was too late to back out. A plan had already been hatched as we traveled from Birchwood back to Mayhaw, and it wouldn't be long before it was set into motion.
AliCat0623 is the poor soul who weeds her way through my long-ass chapters and corrects my mistakes. Bless her heart...
This chapter is dedicated to Rochelle Allison. Only she knows why ;) Go check out her fics, if you haven't already. She's amazing ;)
I stepped out of my comfort zone and submitted an entry in the 'Taste of the Forbidden II' contest. Go by there, read the entries, and vote for your fave! I can't tell you which one is mine, but it'd be fun to hear your guesses. PM your guess and I'll let you know which one was mine AFTER the contest is over.
So, what did y'all think about the chapter? Review and let me know!