Disclaimer: "M" for grown up words and the occasional tangy stuff. Alas, I'm still Steph, just not of her variety and have no claim on the trademark. What happens within the confines of the following pages just sounds good in my head, so I go with it.

CH 11 - Just Roll with it Baby

BPOV

"So, there we were traveling the back roads of Podunkville, Kentucky, the truck was overheating, and of course, you know me, the banjos from 'Deliverance' were all I heard. Thank the good Lord we finally found our way back to the main highway and stumbled on a Walmart. Of course, that was a scary experience in and of itself."

Oh, how I loved talking to Renee. Seriously. It never ceased to amaze me the crap that she and Phil seemed to get into when they were out on the road.

"So what was wrong with Pudge Fisk?" I asked, laughing at Phil's name for his Dodge pickup. For some reason, he idolized the Red Sox catcher from the 70's and decided it a fitting homage to christen his beloved truck after the guy.

"It was the radiator. Apparently, when he had it flushed before we left, the guys at Discount Tire screwed it up. Anyway, Bobbyjoejimbob there at Wally World got us all fixed up and sent us on our way."

"It sucks that happened, but luckily you guys got it all taken care of."

"Yeah, you know, it's always an adventure with us." She sighed, and I chuckled because that was the truth.

"So things are going well then? You guys are good?"

"Oh yes! I forgot to tell you – the Suns extended Phil's contract another two years? Hopefully by the end of this one he'll have a team offering a manger position. I mean hitting coach is good for now, but I know he wants more control. My man is one with a plan baby girl."

I 'hmmmed' in agreement; I hadn't realized how long it had been since I talked to my mom. I missed her and really enjoyed being able to play catch up.

"Speaking of plans," she started, "how did Charlie handle you not going to Forks for Easter? What did you tell him about Edward?"

"He was disappointed, but I told Dad I'd definitely be there Memorial Day weekend. As far as Edward went, I just told him there were communication issues and we decided to be friends."

"Meaning you sugarcoated it?"

"Sort of, I guess."

"Did you ever tell him that Edward was Dr. Cullen's son?"

"Definitely not." I replied, my tone a little on the defensive side.

"Isabella Marie!" My mother reprimanded me like she'd caught me spitting my lima beans into my napkin when I was a kid. "You know omitting information is basically the same as lying."

"Mom, come on. You know Dad prefers to be on a need to know basis. It's a moot point anyway, it's not like he'll ever meet Edward." As soon as I'd said that, I felt a pang of sadness. Something deep down told me that Charlie and Edward would have gotten along. Well, at least after Charlie put down his Colt .45 anyway.

"You never know Bella. The fates might have something to say about that."

"I don't know about all that Mom." I was glad that we were on the phone and not in person so that she couldn't see me shaking my head in crazy speculation. Fate was not something I was a huge proponent of these days.

"Well, let me ask since you won't volunteer anything. How's the buddy system going? We haven't really talked much the last month with all the traveling Phil and I have been doing."

Curling up on my couch, I settled back and gave my mom the not-so-juicy details she was obviously jonesing for. Like how Edward and I hung out a lot, a real lot if I were being truthful. Since that first dinner and a movie, nary a weekend went by that we weren't in each others company. I told Renee about the intense battles on the Wii over at Edward's. I had to laugh when I recalled how he got the "poochy-lip disease" after I schooled him in ping pong. Then there were the movie nights and epic domino battles at my place. I wasn't very good at dominoes when we first started, but I had improved and found myself letting him win sometimes. Edward was not a gracious loser at all.

Surprisingly, Edward had seen a good number of my favorite chick flicks thanks to Alice. But when I exposed him to the Haley Mills Disney classics, shit, his reaction was priceless. He actually teared up at 'Pollyanna', which made me want to snuggle him into my chest. Somehow, I found the willpower not to; however, I wasn't totally heartless as I got him a tissue. Then I sort of made light of things by telling him that maybe we should play the glad game.

This impressed my mom to no end as she lamented I had a keeper on my hands, especially when I told her Edward agreed that the original 'Parent Trap' was far and away better than the remake. I'm pretty sure she even told me to "get with the program nitwit."

On the surface, I knew she was teasing, but deep down I suspected she was fractionally serious.

"Are you my kid or not honey?"

"Of course, but what does that have to do with anything?" I had no clue what point she was trying to make with that question.

"I didn't raise you to run."

"Look Mom, not to be disrespectful, but yeah, you kind of did. That's exactly what I learned when you took me and left Dad. You ran and never looked back."

"I most certainly did not, young lady. You need to check yourself, missy." She took a deep breath and sighed; I knew I'd upset her, although all I was doing was giving her my honest opinion. "Look, I want you to search the half of you that's my DNA because you're letting your Dad's half rule you right now. If you're not careful, it could cost you something wonderful."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"I'm not trying to be, honestly. But, there's a big difference between running away from something you don't want and never will because it scares you versus something you do want because of fear it might not work out. You may call it running, but I say I was moving toward something that would make me happy."

"Semantics. Six is one half-dozen of the other." I muttered.

"Bella, honey you are sprinting a mile a minute because you are petrified of the risks. The problem is, you're not really going anywhere, and I think you know that."

Renee was many things: flighty, carefree, loving and supportive. But when push came to shove, she was damn insightful too, which is something I often overlooked. Her moments of keen observation were few and far between, but experience had taught me that she was right on the money when they did hit, and I should hear her out. I just didn't know when I'd be ready to really listen.

True to his word, Edward decided that he was going to make a major leaguer out of me come hell or high water. I should have suspected that father-son tag team effort when Dr. Cullen started making not-so-subtle comments regarding the lack of estrogen on the co-ed team. Much to my chagrin, I knew the time had come to face the cages and fear the bat no more.

We met over at Stod's Baseball and not surprisingly, the outing was a comedy of errors from the moment I stepped up to the plate. At least that was the way it seemed. It wasn't only my complete lack of athletic ability that made it so ridiculous. The up close and very hands on tutelage of my own personal Coach Hotpants resulted in my less than concentrated focus.

The weather had decided to cooperate by turning out nice and sunny, which I had mistakenly let lull me into a false sense of security. Surely the beautiful day was an omen that this endeavor would be a success and I wouldn't end up fracturing something. The temperatures had started to warm, the landscapes having turned a lush green and the cloudless blue sky made the setting nothing short of spectacular.

"Okay Bella, this is the correct way to grip the bat. Bend your knees slightly and make sure you're over the plate." Edward explained as he demonstrated with what I was sure was textbook perfect positioning. Doing my best to emulate him, I must have looked like I'd either thrown out my back, or was severely constipated. Edward had no qualms about laughing openly as he evaluated my batting stance.

"Look, I'm doing the best I can over here, you nimrod!" I yelled a whole lot defensively. I was trying as best I could dammit…

"What did you just call me?" He asked with the quirk of his brow, the upturned corner of his mouth just begging to be nibbled on.

"Nothing, just some goofy nickname Charlie gave one of his deputies." I choked back a laugh because I knew for a fact there was absolutely nothing nim about Edward's rod.

"I think it would behoove you to remember that your ass is mine, Swan."

Fuck me, it sure is Skipper.

Demonstrating that he meant serious business, Edward turned his ball cap backwards, and shit did that make it hard to hone in on whatever it was he was gonna show me. "Now, a little focus if you please."

Well, not with your ownership of my ass there's not.

I made my eyes unglaze as Edward walked towards me in an attempt to help fix my posture. God bless if he wasn't the picture of homemade sin with his Oakley wrap-arounds and homeboy-style Mariner's hat. My heart pounded just a little bit faster the closer Mr. Baseball got to me.

For someone who had the pinks on my hind quarters, his touches were nothing but feather light. The way he gently bent my elbows at just the right angles; the delicate press of his fingers against my shoulders; the almost weightless push as he altered my hip placement.

I am so screwed.

It didn't matter how incidental the contact, that white-noise-current of electricity was still there, an ever present reminder of what never stopped flowing between us. Obviously, my skin hadn't gotten the memo that this shit wasn't cool anymore because there went the goose bumps all up and down my arms. My body sure could be an insubordinate hussy at the most inopportune of moments.

"There, that's a ton better." He said after he was satisfied that my posture passed muster. "You look much less uncomfortable." Edward grabbed his glove and ball and trotted over to the mound. Of course I was mesmerized by the way his derriere jostled beneath his athletic shorts. It was like being hypnotized by those sing-along-songs on kids' shows that told you to "just follow the bouncing ball."

"Okay Swan, eye on the ball." Oh right, that ball. "Swing and connect, and you got it."

The next series of events were such blurs; even I was amazed at how quickly I ended up on the tush I no longer retained. I saw the ball coming toward me, but instinct kicked in and I shut my eyes. Blindly swinging, albeit clearly a beat too late, I felt the ball hit my shoulder about a quarter second before ending up on my keister.

"Motherfuck, Bella! Are you okay?"

Edward ran over, kneeling down over me to assess how badly I'd hurt myself. My arm stung, and I knew for sure there would be an ugly bruise. It was my pride that no doubt suffered the strongest blow; the level of my embarrassment was at defcon five. Oh I'd assplanted countless times in my day, just never in front of someone who I regarded with such intensity.

"I'm fine Edward, really. Just epically humiliated, that's all."

Helping me up, Edward started to laugh, which gave way to a fit of hysterics as I dusted myself off. I failed to see the humor of the situation and quite frankly was getting a little miffed. I mean, it was his idea to come to this danger cage in the first place. It wasn't like I volunteered for this shit.

"You know, you might want to breathe at some point," I deadpanned as Edward doubled over, his hands on his knees and shoulders visibly shaking, "or don't, and suffocate jackass."

"I'm – I'm sorry Bella, but oh God…you're killing me, Smalls, you're killing me." He managed to huff out in a "wheeew" and catch his breath.

"Smalls? What the hell is Smalls?" I knew for a fact he was not referring to my girls as he never had anything but praise for them.

"You know from 'The Sandlot'?" I shook my head as I had no clue what he was referencing. "You know the movie with the kids and Babe Ruth's baseball and the beast?"

"Nope, totally unfamiliar with that one."

"And Charlie fancies himself a baseball fan. He should be ashamed of not making you watch a classic such as that. It's settled; we have our winner for movie night."

"If you insist coach."

"I do." He took a moment, pursing his lips as he seemed to be pondering something. "I think," he started "our best bet to work on your swing is to use the pitching machine. That way I can stand behind you, help keep your stance and you can get a feel for timing."

"You're the boss."

"You got that right," he retorted with a head nod and went to set up the machine.

No doubt, that contraption made me about thirty levels of uneasy as I realized it would be hurling balls at my head at God-only-knows-what-speeds. I sensed a black eye at the very least in my immediate future. As Edward was making adjustments to the equipment, my brain finally made the leap just how close we would be in a matter of moments. I didn't know which was more dangerous to my well-being: the harbinger of baseball death or Edward's body practically soldered to mine.

"Alrighty, then, we're all set." He said jogging over to the plate. "We've got sixty seconds before it fires off the first pitch, and then there's a twelve second pause in between each one."

Edward took the bat from my hands and moved to stand behind me. Much like before, he adjusted my grip and lightly shifted my body into proper form. However, unlike a few moments ago, Edward positioned his body flush against mine as he wrapped himself around me and placed his hands strategically around mine so that he was holding the bat as well.

Fuck the Curse of the Great Bambino… this right here was torture.

There, ensnared in his arms, I knew I was flirting with danger. Like a minuscule fly darting in and around a Venus Flytrap, it was inevitable that I'd get too close and SNAP! I'd be swallowed whole. It was only a matter of mere moments before the reflex action of the jaws would close, entrapping me and leaving me helpless.

I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back as the vibration of his heartbeat resonated straight through me, and somehow synced up with my own. My psyche became lost in the copacetic rhythm of the thump-thump, thump-thump and in an uncontrollable response to the soothing sensation, I felt my eyes begin to close…

"Any second, you'll hear the machine make a clicking sound and release the first pitch. Just keep your eyes open and let me guide the swing, okay?"

"Right. Right, I gotcha. I'm ready." My eyes popped open as I lied through my teeth.

CLICK!

WHOOSH!

CRACK!

Just like Edward said, I heard the noise a split second before I saw the ball come hurling towards us. Giving way to his movement, I allowed him to lead and felt the bat make contact. The resulting thwack and jarring sensation signified a successful hit, and what a rush it was.

"Oh my God, we did it!" I cried out, beside myself with joy that we not only had gotten a hit, but that my face wasn't pummeled in the process. Oh, if Charlie could see me now…

"We did, Smalls! Awesome!" He shouted, the excitement palpable in both his voice and in the air. "Okay," Edward said, returning back to teacher mode, "We need to regroup because there's another one coming… NOW!"

CLICK!

WHOOSH!

CRACK!

Another hit. This time we settled back into position immediately getting prepared for it to fire again. I felt Edward encase the bat harder in his grip, his arms pulling me tighter against his rigid form. In a reflex action beyond my control, my body innately pressed and wiggled back into him, traitorous wench that she was.

CLICK!

Another pitch thundered toward us; my entire being lurched as we swung, a simultaneous "gahhhh" bellowed from us both as the ball was sent flying.

"Yeah, that's it." Edward murmured in my ear.

Chills ricocheted all over me, and like the glutton for punishment I was, I turned my face to him and smiled. "I'm feeling it Edward, I'm really feeling it." I gushed; proud we were three for three.

No sooner than those words left my mouth, I really did feel it. Him. Swelling.

Oh. My. God.

There was no mistaking that other big stick that Edward carried, which was very firmly pressed into the small of my back.

"Uh, umm, Edward?" I gasped in total disbelief.

"Oh shit," he growled.

CLICK!

WHOOSH!

THUD!

We toppled to the ground just as the pitch whizzed past our falling bodies. I landed in a heap on top of Edward, surprised that somehow in mid-spill he'd managed to maneuver us so he could cushion my fall.

If things were awkward before, they were even more so now. The bat we'd held had been chucked aside, but the bat in Edward's pants was now firmly connected to my home plate. Talk about finding the sweet spot.

Not even his shades could shield the utter mortification in those fields of green. Once the panic of falling had subsided and the shock of nearly getting beaned had waned, the stunning realization of our position washed over me like a tidal wave. I honestly don't know what came with more force, the horror or the lust. Edward's unmistakable arousal made it impossible not to acknowledge my own.

Here I was, spread eagle atop HBJ Extraordinaire, and of course, all my body wanted to do was grind into him. Why wouldn't that be the case? It was learned behavior previously rewarded with positive reinforcement in all prior instances.

Before I could do or say anything, Edward abruptly sat up and rolled me off of him. If I hadn't been so embarrassed myself, I probably would've been a little miffed at being unceremoniously tossed back on the ground. He stood up at lightening speed, his back to me of course, clearly not wanting me to see the craziness going on in his pants.

"God, Bella I'm so damn sorry. I - I can't believe that…fuck… I didn't mean to –"

CRASH!

Another ball careened into the fence, causing me to throw my arms over my head in hopes I wouldn't be hit. With a glance over his shoulder, Edward said to "take ten" and he'd be back. I didn't even have time to respond as he'd already darted to the machine and shut it off.

"Edward, wait!" I called out to him. My cries went unanswered as I watched his fleeing form race inside the building to God knows where.

Holy. Hell.

I never would have guessed that would be the way I'd end up in the dirt. Upon further reflection, it shouldn't have been so shocking that Edward would end up with a boner around me at some point. I mean, my body had the same responses to him as before, but I fought to keep them to myself. Of course, his equipment didn't afford him the luxury of secrecy.

Groaning, I stood up and again dusted off the remnants of my collision with the ground. To say things would be weird when Edward reappeared would be the understatement of the decade. I knew I had to ease the awkwardness of things as best I could. The only way to do that was to address the behemoth mastodon on the field instead of deflecting the issue.

I would be completely honest in letting him know that he wasn't the only one having that type of problem. It was absolutely understandable because our relationship started in such a physical nature. And even though we'd tapped the breaks at one point before switching gears, it was only natural that our physiological reactions would stay the same. There just had to be some latitude and understanding granted until things changed.

And while I was sure I would pretty much always want Edward that way, I knew it was only a matter of time before he found a more-than-willing object to satisfy those needs. I stopped that line of thinking right there; once that happened I would lose my compadre and see a whole lot less of him. I mean really, what self respecting girl would allow a prize like Edward to keep hanging with someone he used to be intimately involved with?

As painful as that thought was, one thing gave me a small shred of comfort: the time would come when Edward would tire of her flavor. I would be ready and waiting for my friend to come back to me. Was that the very definition of pathetic? It sure as fuck was. Did I give two shits? Nope, because at least "Smalls" wouldn't get old.

My inner musings halted the second I saw a very sheepish HBJ walk back outside, his gaze focused on his feet as he ambled toward me. Talk about getting your hand caught in the cookie jar. He stood in front of me for a few moments before he lifted his head and sucked in a huge breath, clearly ready to apologize.

"Edward, before you start, just listen for a second, okay?"

He nodded his head, his eyes apprehensive and woeful. The look on his face was just so sad and totally tugged at my heart. I had to rectify that immediately. God, I am such a sucker…

"I don't want you to feel bad about you know…your, uh, issue as it were, alright? It's not a problem."

"How can you say that?" He asked the question full of disbelief and incredulity. "I basically accosted you with my dick, Bella. That's inappropriate and embarrassing and just-"

"Not something you can control Edward. It's totally understandable. In fact, I get it a little better than you might think. I still have certain responses to you too that I can't reign in sometimes. It's just not as obvious."

"You do? Really?"

"Well, yeah, of course I do. I'm human aren't I?" I stated very matter-of-factually. "Look, let's not make an issue out of it. I'm not mad or offended at all. It's no big deal, honestly."

He glanced downward at his shorts and smirked, "Well actually, I think it is kind of a big deal."

"Oh my God! Dude, you did not just make a size reference!"

"I sure as hell did. Pancho has feelings you know."

"Excuse me, Pancho? You named it? When did you do that?"

Edward, obviously in rare form, started laughing and held up his hand. "Pretty much since Lefty here became his faithful partner."

I still didn't know how we managed it, but somehow Edward and I were able to turn the awkward events of batting practice around and find our chill zone. Settling on movie night at my place, we made stops at the store to grab stuff for dinner and by Emmett's to borrow his copy of 'The Sandlot'.

Emmett, being a product of Esme's genetic material, wanted to know how my first lesson went. There was no way in hell either of us were copping to the truth with that question. Instead, Edward said that I'd been dubbed "Smalls" and that should be indicative about our time at the cages.

And, admittedly, after watching the movie, it was clear that my new nickname was well deserved and more than appropriate. It didn't send chills up my spine the way "Sweetness" did, but it was a happy medium and still something special just for me.

We decided that "Bull Durham" was next on the baseball themed movie marathon. It was one we'd both seen as Crash Davis was one of Charlie's most loved movie heroes. I was so full of tacos and margaritas that it wasn't very long into the movie before I felt my eyelids get heavy. Surely I'd dozed off into some erotic dream because I heard Edward say "Amen" in reverence to Crash's belief in "long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days." Shortly thereafter, he tried to teach me to breathe through my eyelids while I was tied up and blindfolded on his bed.

I woke up to the realization that the movie was almost over and I was alone on the couch. Sitting up and shaking the cobwebs out of my head, I strained to see if Edward was in the kitchen, which he was not. The shutting of drawers in my bathroom tipped me off to his whereabouts.

As I went into my room and toward the bathroom door, I wondered just what on Earth he could possibly be looking for in my bathroom. It was fully stocked with toilet paper, and he knew where I kept the Advil and Tylenol. But just before I could ask what was up with the treasure hunt, I heard him say, "What the fuck is this?"

Followed by the sound of a slow buzzzzzzzzzz.

Oh no, he didn't.

And then the buzzing got faster.

Oh yes, he did.

I stood utterly aghast at the knowledge that Edward had not only found my Golden God of Eggstacy, but was messing with my very favorite substitute for his tongue. My first reaction was to throw the door open and tell him to leave my shit alone. However, the thought of seeing him with one of my toys would either embarrass the hell out of both of us, or turn us into complete and total horndogs.

Having decided that I'd dodged enough bullets for one day, I scurried off as quietly as possible and resumed my previous position on the couch. My plan of action was to feign sleep. After all, Edward had no clue that I'd been on the other side of the door; I saw no reason to enlighten him either. He could remain blissfully oblivious as far as I was concerned.

As convincingly as my questionable acting skills would permit, I waited patiently and strained to hear him come back into the living room. It took thoughts of George Bush in a speedo and Johnny Knoxville in drag with saggy boobs to rid my mind of what he was doing behind closed doors.

But the longer I lay there, the more my curiosity grew as to what was taking him so damn long, especially since I couldn't eavesdrop anymore. The suspense was killing me, so I took the risk of getting caught and tiptoed back into my room. I was nowhere near prepared for what I heard next.

Despite the muffled sound, there was no mistaking the soft grunts being made from the inside of my bathroom. I tried thinking of a thousand other reasons to explain them away, but to no avail. If there was a sliver of doubt (which there wasn't), the stifled "nngggahhh" immediately followed by the muted hiss told me all I needed to know.

Edward was indeed rubbing one out no less than three feet away from me. The fact that we were separated by a mere two inches of plywood did nothing to stop the visions that flooded my brain. To see Edward handling up on his business, touching and stroking himself to the point of release…

The flush of the toilet disposing of any evidence and the running faucet pulled me from the intensely stimulating fantasy of Edward getting himself off. I had about twenty seconds before I was busted, and there was no way I was going to chance that happening. Bolting as if my life depended on it, I again scurried back to my space on the sofa and pretended to be asleep.

I heard the door open and close and prayed with everything in me that I still looked out of it. I silently counted to calm myself, hitting the number forty-five when I finally felt the couch shift. Thank God I had my back to him so he couldn't see how tightly my eyes were squeezed.

My question of what he used for lubrication was answered as I felt his hand brush my hair away from my face. The subtle, yet not totally masked scent of powder mixed with hand soap indicated he'd found my bottle of baby oil under the sink.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he murmured, his hand grazing my neck. "Wow, you really crashed out on me didn't you? You're all flushed and sweaty there, Smalls."

I faked a yawn and turned over to face him. To further sell my performance, I threw out the full-body stretch, complete with rapid eye-blinking just to make sure he was indeed convinced. "Yeah, I guess I did. Tequila sometimes has that effect on me. Some people get mean, I just get sleepy."

"Remind me never to do shots of Patron with you then." He laughed, moving down to the end of the couch to grab his shoes. "I'm going to go ahead and take off, okay? You look pretty beat."

"Yeah, you look kind of beat yourself." I couldn't help but smirk.

Fortunately for me, Edward seemed as eager to leave as I was to get him out the door. I was a jumbled, turned on mess and needed some relief myself. It took me all of fifteen seconds flat after I'd locked the door to grab extra batteries so I could spend some quality time with my Golden God.

EPOV

I had yet to meet the man, but something told me that Officer Charles Swan and I were going to get along just fine. We had too many commonalities not to. We shared a love of all things Bella and all things baseball, so there was not a doubt in my mind I would win him over when the opportunity presented itself.

And teaching Bella to hit, and hit well, was going to score me some major points with the Chief. It didn't take me long to understand why he'd abandoned ship all those years ago. From an athletic standpoint, the girl seemed like a lost cause. Fortunately, I had an abundance of patience and loved a challenge. Case in point: doing the friend thing for as long as it took for Bella to feel safe so we could be more.

After today's session at the cages, it was clear that Bella wasn't the only one that had something to learn.

I'd always been proud of my iron will. I was raised to have a strong intestinal fortitude and restraint. The truth was, every man had his weakness and it was clear my self control was for shit around Bella.

Being close to her like that, my body wrapped around hers in a way that mine had missed for far too long…

Whoa, hold up there hoss. It was that very line of thinking that caused a situation in the first place.

I was one lucky bastard that Bella didn't get pissed off about Pancho's attempted hold up. I know I took off like a little bitch, but the embarrassment was too fucking much. It wasn't the first time since the change-up that I'd gotten a stiffy from being around her. But since she always kept a certain distance between us, that shit was easier to hide. Whenever that would happen, I'd flood my brain with images of Margaret Thatcher naked or reflect on how crushed I was when A-Rod signed with the Rangers. Those were some serious boner binders for me and always did the trick.

Once I'd calmed the fuck down and came out of hiding, I pretty much ran the gamut of emotions: shock, disappointment, fear and relief. That last one was certainly welcome. Quite frankly, I had expected a meltdown of epic proportions when I got back outside; but leave it to Bella to throw me a curve ball.

Not only was she not furious with me for being such a guy, but she understood my plight. It was satisfying and incredibly awesome to know that she felt the same way I did. Bella admitted that she still had certain reactions to me too, that those types of responses hadn't changed. And that's when I knew things were working. I knew deep down it was just a matter of time before that shield dissipated. Systematically finding little weaknesses, I'd been testing her strength for signs of fatigue, and sure enough, they were starting to show.

Granted, Bella was as stubborn as the as the day was long. No doubt this was another trait passed along to her by dear old dad. But, there were moments when I thought I could feel it, that buzzing still in the air between us; the electrified particles in the air that just energized everything. I swear sometimes I could vaguely see it in her eyes, a flickering remnant of want. For me. For us.

When she confirmed my suspicion, it gave me the added stamina I needed to stay the course. Bella still grappled with those same feelings too, and as hard as she tried not to have them, they were beyond her control. All I had to do was keep focused until she stopped trying to rein them in the first place.

So, I decided to lighten things up when she said not to make a big deal of it. Always the pervert (who was insanely proud of his junk), I couldn't resist making the obvious joke about my dick; which caused Bella to turn about twelve shades of pink. It thrilled me that I still made her flush, even if it was only with my words and not my actions.

Somehow, the craziness of the day had allowed us to deal with an issue we'd both tried to ignore and move forward. Ending up at her place for dinner and a movie was about as good a way as any to do just that.

The soft "psssht" from the other end of the couch told me that I was the only one watching the TV right then. Not at all surprising, my sleeping angel had drifted off into what I'd selfishly hoped were dreams of me. God knows Bella had never ceased being the object of mine.

The margaritas that Bella drank with dinner must have been too much. Bless her heart; she made it through 'The Sandlot', which thankfully she really liked. I figured she would since 'Smalls' was her new moniker. It didn't have near the ring that 'Sweetness' did, but it would do until the time came when I could call her that again. And it would, of that I was certain.

I suggested we stick with the baseball theme of movie night, but was a little surprised that Bella had seen 'Bull Durham'. I was very impressed that Charlie had exposed her to one of the best sports flicks of all time. The other thing her dad had right was the absolute greatness of Crash Davis, who was, quite possibly, the most awesome sports character ever created.

His "I believe" speech was sheer brilliance, and I'd memorized that damned thing like a prayer. I upheld every stinking one of those ideals and carried them close to my heart. I absolutely believed in the soul, the cock, the pussy and the small of a woman's back. I'd defend that both Astroturf and the DH should be done away with until the day I died; and I sure as fuck believed in the sweet spot - and not just in baseball either. As always, when Crash finished his sermon, I bowed my head and offered a reverent "Amen".

"Mmmmuuhhh."

The soft, breathy moan that came from the other end of the couch caught not only my attention, but also my dick's. That delicately sensual sound was like wake up call to the bastard because the fucker was all sorts of awake now. Apparently certain contents of the aforementioned monologue coupled with that airy-Bella-sigh made Pancho fire up with guns blazin'.

Son of a bitch.

Although she'd been cool about my earlier predicament, there wasn't anything worse than Bella waking up to find that I was once again up to bat. She was forgiving, but only to a fault I was sure. I felt certain that getting caught twice in the same day at full mast might freak her out a little. Okay, a lot.

Moving ever so gently from the couch, I escaped to the confines of her bathroom until I could get myself straight. I tried the age old trick of splashing myself with cool water. That proved to be a total waste of time; overrated and pointless. It didn't make matters any better. Taking a cold shower seemed a little rude since this wasn't my place; plus there was a chance that Bella would catch me, and how the hell would I explain things?

I decided that ridding myself of the bits of taco shell stuck in my teeth would give me not only something else to focus on, but an activity to occupy my hands. Flossing seemed like a pretty good way to busy myself; I knew there had to be some dental floss somewhere in Bella's bathroom.

My search proved fruitless after digging through her medicine cabinet and two of her drawers. But when I hit the top one…holy shit.

"What the fuck is this?" I said to no one in particular as I stared at the contraption before me.

A gold colored egg tethered to some sort of control laid there amidst hair ties and a bunch of other frou-frou shit that was pretty inconsequential at that very moment. My brain told me to leave it the hell alone, but my hands were not on board with that course of action in the slightest. Unable to resist temptation, I picked it up and turned the fucker on.

Buzzzzz the egg came to life as it vibrated in my palm. I turned up the dial with my other hand, and the thing started shaking even faster. I was so startled at the speed of the egg, I almost dropped it. Thank fuck I had fast reflexes…

There was no question this was some sort of sex toy, and it didn't take an astrophysicist to decipher what part of the body it was used to stimulate. Even though my tongue was extremely fucking jealous of this battery operated poser, my dick got even harder with the thoughts of Bella using it to get herself off.

Okay, that train of thought was not helping reverse the situation in my pants at all. My imagination was on one hell of a free for all as those images of Bella working the egg over her clit somehow came to involve me actually watching her bring herself to orgasm.

Fuck. That wasn't helping either.

Only one logical thing left to do at that point to remedy my problem: I needed to unload the gun.

Not wanting to use the girly lotion on the counter for lube, I looked under the sink for something else that would work. I mean come on, my dick smelling like that Sweet Pea lotion Bella used from that Bath and Body place would be a dead giveaway to the debauchery I was up to in here. Lucky for me, like a beacon slipperiness, there was a bottle of baby oil. Thanks be to all things Johnson and Johnson.

Wasting no time, I grabbed the oil and dropped trou. This was going to have to be one of my faster sessions. The last thing I needed was for Bella to wake up and come looking for me.

I had tissue on standby, Pancho lubed up and Lefty was already going to work. I closed my eyes and let the very fantasies I'd tried previously to stop run wild.

Bella naked, laid out spread open in the middle of her bed. Stroke up. Bella holding the egg against her wet slit. Stroke down. Bella turning that thing up full throttle, her writhing and shaking as she comes. Stroke up. Stroke down. Bella grabbing me, shoving my face between her legs. She's already sensitive, so it doesn't take too many laps of my tongue and thrusts of my fingers before she's screaming, "Edward! Fuck yes!"

I'd started pumping my cock so damned fast I didn't even get to the part of my fantasy where I slip it inside of her; before I knew it, I felt the familiar tightening within and just let go. Finally, I allowed the release that I'd been trying to keep at bay for so long fly, albeit with as muted a volume as possible.

Damn. I really needed that.

Getting rid of any and all evidence, I washed up and got myself rearranged. I was especially careful to put the egg back where I'd found it. Shit, that would be pretty fucking embarrassing for Bella to realize it'd been moved and deduce that I was the last one in her bathroom.

As quietly as possible, I went back into the living room, pausing for a few moments to make sure my girl was still asleep. I exhaled a pretty big sigh of relief when I saw that she was still sawing logs. God, she was so ridiculously cute the way she tried to wake herself up as I was getting ready to go home.

Just like always, I really hated to leave her. This was the part that always bummed me out; the time of night when I had to say goodbye. My mind wandered back to the night she told me not to; the night she asked me to stay. But like the faithful friend that I was, I politely kissed her cheek and told her goodnight.

Walking to my car, I took a small measure of comfort knowing that I was getting closer to righting this ship. What I needed now were reinforcements. With Bella's two closest confidantes in my corner, it was time to bring in those who didn't need persuasion to lend me a hand. It was time to bring in the heavy artillery.

The first chance I got, I'd talk to Riley about going public with what he'd been helping me with the last several weeks. It was going to be a big surprise, but I felt like I was finally ready to pull it off. He'd been instrumental in one particular part of my plan to win Bella back.

Pulling out of the parking lot, I called the one person that had been dying to get involved in my campaign. As I waited for her to answer, I let the memory of having Bella pressed so tightly against my body wash over me. I needed a valid excuse for me to be that close to her again without suspicion and I was about to hit up the very lady who could make that happen.

"Hey baby brother, what's up?"

"Hey, Ali. Not too much. Listen, I need to know more about that Salsa class you've got happening at your studio. It's just for beginners, yeah?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, you wanted to help out with Bella, right?"

"Oh my gosh, of course Edward! What can I do? Tell me, tell me tell me!"

"Figure out a way to get her to take the class with me. That's your assignment, should you choose to accept it."

"Gladly, dear brother, gladly."

A/N:

Ruh-roh...wonder what tricks Spingod has up his sleeve? My guess is he's about to stop playing fair...

Here are some things you might want to check out relevant to this chapter:

Clip from "The Sandlot" - http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=bc7t_ET6SNQ

Crash's speech from "Bull Durham" - http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=sBfdl6hNZ9k

Bella's Golden God of Eggstacy (I have one and it fucking rules. Just sayin'.) - http:/www(dot)intimatewholesalers(dot)

As always, huge gropes and big squeezes to my pre-readers RoseArcadia, HookaShewz, Lola-pop and LisaMichelle17. I am forever in your debt. Massive and humble thanks to my Super Beta Dude, Stratan. He fixes my crap faster than a speeding bullet. In fact, I'm pretty sure he can leap tall buildings in a single bound.

I appreciate the heck out of each and every one of you who read my ramblings. I am sincerely grateful for the reviews – I read them all and they make me so happy. Once upon a time I was better at answering them, but I'm hoping you'd rather have me working on the next chapter rather than replies.

Come say hi to me on the Twitter: http:/twitter(dot)com/stephk0525. Be warned, it's highly addictive.