Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

But Tatted Edward is mine! Mine, I say!

Shout-out to Mizzez Pattinson, my partner in crime while

wrangling the photo booth guy at TFMU into the photo booth

to take pics with us. Hopefully we didn't traumatize him too much.

Pre-read by Jonesn. She says this chapter is so hot. *crosses fingers*

Chapter Twenty-five: Face Down

Weeks have passed since I last thought of the mysterious Charlie Swan. Any discomfort I felt related to the man's presence faded away along with fall. Winter swept in, overnight it seems. For the first time in years I spent Christmas in the comfort of a real family ... even if our family structure is a little fucked up.

Now Spring is in the air, along with the promise of a different life and a new future.

"Earth to Edward." Bella snaps her fingers, shaking her head with a hint of a smile on her face. "What about this place?"

She taps the screen on her laptop and crosses her ankles behind her. Lying on her stomach on her bed, barefoot and wearing those legging-jegging things, she's entirely too enticing. The curve of her ass is emphasized by the tight material, a silent reminder of one of the first physical attributes that attracted me to her. I abandon the vanity chair I've been sitting in and join her on the bed, placing my hand on the small of her back. Shivers develop under my palm and I smile, smirking really, enjoying the reaction of her body to my simple touch.

I turn the laptop in my direction and scan the screen. "Looks kinda small. How much is the rent?"

"Twelve-hundred a month."

"For an apartment with a bed in the wall?" I frown, shaking my head. "You gotta be kidding me."

"It's a hideaway bed." Bella rolls her eyes. "I think it's … quaint."

Snickering, I click another link and the shitty-ass apartment disappears, replaced with a nicer, swankier one. "This is more like it: more square footage, modern interior, no bed in the wall."

"And only twice the price of the last one." Bella huffs and closes the laptop. She shoves it away and crosses her arms in front of her, burying her face. "We're never gonna find an apartment we can agree on. What you want isn't affordable and the places I pick out don't pass the Edward Cullen inspection. Looking for an apartment is making me miserable."

"Hey, at least I'm looking."

Bella snorts. "Right? This is the first time you've tried to help me find us a place, which is a another reason why I'm so stressed."

"Maybe I've had other things on my mind, like the way you look laying on this bed." I rub soothing circles on her lower back until the action pushes aside her shirt and lowers her jegging things a fraction of an inch. Those two dimples call to me, the small indentations barely visible from the angle in which I'm sitting. I tease the indentations with two fingers, lightly tickling the dips in her skin. Even though our parents insist on our bedroom doors being open when we're alone together, they rarely come upstairs to check in on us. If they did, they'd die during the late night hours when we're alone in my bed, sweaty and exploring, never tired of exploring.

Not exploring enough, in my opinion.

Feeling particularly brave today, I peel her jegging things down in a miserably slow kind of way, revealing inch by sweet inch of smooth skin. She doesn't wear anything beneath, not when she wears leggings or jeans this tight, claiming panty lines are disgusting and tacky. I curse all things panty lines, wishing she'd go commando at all times.

Bella's face emerges from where she's hiding and shoots me a wry smile. "What are you doing?"

"Taking your mind off things."

"You know the door is wide open, right?" She glances uneasily at the open door. Carlisle and Esme's occasional laughter can be heard downstairs. "What if someone walks in?"

"What if they do?" Grinning, I change position on the bed, brushing my lips along the swell of her ass, kneading it with a gentle touch. Thumbs sinking between her legs, I notice the wetness already awaiting me. "Move up on the bed."

On shaky knees she does what I say, her brown hair spilling over her shoulders, matching eyes still casting a wary gaze at the open door. I hope like hell she's listening for footsteps ascending the stairs, or her mother's voice calling her name. My mind is on something else entirely.

"What are you, oh—" She moans as I sink one thumb inside her wet entrance, massaging her clit in delicate circles with two free fingers.

Bella struggles to open her legs wider to allow me more access, but the tightness of her jeggings prevents her from spreading them. Her hand travels down her side, fingers flailing in a desperate attempt to push the fabric down, but I place my hand on hers and she pauses, moaning into her comforter. Hips rolling, her hand returns near her face and she cups her mouth. Wetness seeps out between her legs with each deep thrust and she rolls her hips, silently begging me to speed up and squelch her thirst. Instead, I abandon her pussy altogether, curiously seeking out a new object of desire and discover it. Puckered and pink, her flesh is rough against the pad of my thumb, sleeker now as I use her own juice to wet it.

"I love your ass," I murmur, sighing as her body stiffens. "Maybe one day …"

"Maybe one day I'll be more open to anal?" Her mumbled reply causes me to bark out in laughter, almost, but not quite ending the mood. The swell of my erection in my jeans is pure torture, thoughts of sinking into her tight ass clouding my mind. I tease the tiny opening, my pelvis rocking against the bed to alleviate the misery below. Using my free hand, I trace my finger along her slit and her reaction is immediate, rolling her hips in succession with mine. Body relaxing, she presses against me and my thumbs eases into her body, both thumbs at once. A muffled cry is lost inside her pillow, halting my movements.

"Am I hurting you? Do you want me to—"

"A little. It hurts a little, but I think it could feel good." She's panting, and it's hot as hell. "Got any lube?"

I'm a teenage boy. Of course I have lube.

I creep across the hallway and dig around inside my nightstand, triumphantly removing a bottle of lube I haven't had to use on myself in a long time. Once I return to her bedroom, I squirt a dollop inside the crack of her ass, watching in fascination as it gleams and travels back to the hidden place. She shivers under the coolness of it all, and the pressure of my thumb nudging and gently twisting its way inside.

"Don't stop." Her words are a plea, all garbled and a breathy grunt into the goose down. "Feels so strange, so dirty, but so good. Please, don't stop."

My thumb stills inside, giving her time to adjust. I return to fingering her pussy, working her into a heated frenzy. Each roll of her hips forces my thumb to sink deeper into the tight space between her cheeks, now past the first knuckle. Muscles twitch inside, sucking and clamping around my thumb. I trace my tongue on the swell of her skin, pushing my finger deeper until her ass is fully engorged with my thumb. Slowly, I pump, in and out of her pussy and ass, shivering as I feel her own fingers reach between her legs and take over her clit. Focusing on the sounds erupting from her throat, the sleekness of her body, I increase the momentum of my fingers, encouraged by her whispered words.

"Can you … can you." Her muttered request is lost in the wrinkled cotton of her bed.

"Can I what? Tell me, baby." I slow down, and she groans in frustration, glancing over her shoulder with pink cheeks.

"Can you do that while fucking me?"

Jesus Christ.

I'm up on my knees before either of us can bat an eye. Zipper caught between slippery fingers, I tug it down and shove my jeans and boxers down. As entangled by my own clothes as she is, I plant my hands on her waist and hoist her up on her knees. Although I love looking at my girl's face when she comes, I have to say that this is my favorite position. The way her ass slaps against me, jiggling and bouncing with each thrust inside of her drives me insane. The memory stays with me constantly, leaving me sitting in class the day after with tented jeans and trembling hands, which is no different than now. My hands shake as I knead her ass, wrapping my hand around my cock and running the swollen head along her slit, coating it in her juices. Biting my bottom lip, I let the swollen tip travel to the puckered flesh of her ass, curious. Just fucking curious.

"Oh, God. It's too big." I hear the panic in her voice. Her body tenses under my touch.

"I know, baby," I say, jutting my hips and letting my cock slide between the crack of her ass. "I wouldn't hurt you."

Bella bites her lip, glancing at me with wide eyes. "Unless I want you to though, right?"

God, help me.

"Even then." I swallow hard. Releasing my cock, I watch as it glides along, the pinkness of her ass visible when I pull away. "I can't hurt you."

"Maybe it's like getting a tattoo," she says, elaborating when I quirk a brow. "You said the pain is pleasurable."

"You shouldn't say things like that to me." I groan and guide my cock to her pussy, licking my lips and staring down at where we'll soon be joined. The silver piercing inside my cock slides into the petal-pink and it's enthralling being inside her, watching her body adjust around my cock, twitching on the inside, moaning on the outside. Her pale skin rests against my tatted body and I'm completely inside her, unmoving, until she pulls away, only to push back, the soft slopes of her ass bouncing. With her elbows and knees digging into the mattress, she uses them as leverage. I feel her fingers returning to her clit, brushing against my balls before she cups them in her hand. The sensation of her fingers wrapping around my balls does something to me, forces me to move, to drive into her, to seek out that tiny back opening and encircle it with my thumb. Before my thumb is halfway inside, she hits her peak, crying out in a strangled scream and causing me to freeze.

The room is silent aside from her labored breaths and post-coital whimpers. I crawl off the bed, my cock slipping from inside her and making her moan a delicious moan. I push the curtains of her bedroom window aside. There's no car in the driveway, no signs of life inside or out. Before returning to the bed, I slam her bedroom door, locking it behind me and bring her slack body back up to her knees. Cock twitching, I enter her again, not holding back on the pace, uncaring of the squeak of her bed or the loudness of my feral grunts now that we're alone. Closing my eyes, I imagine that I'm inside a very different part of her body, a place she finds dirty, taboo and forbidden. Within minutes I'm coming inside her, filling her until she spills around me and her body goes slack on the bed, sated. Sated as much as I am, yet not entirely. Not until she allows me to finish what we both started the minute she walked into my life wearing those tight-ass jeans.

~c00ch~

This week has been a busy one, full of last-minute photos for the graduation edition of the school newspaper, rekindling my brotherly relationship with Jasper through various gigs, and chasing tail … Bella's tail, twenty-four seven. Tiredness tugs at my body, causing me to sway on the bench and rub away the lingering sleepiness from my eyes. Bella sits across from me at lunch, an abandoned, bruised apple sitting on the picnic table between us. I pick it up and take a bite, grinning around the battered fruit.

"What?" Pieces of apple fly from my mouth, dotting the worn surface of the picnic table.

"There are better apples inside the cafeteria. That one is practically ruined."

I shrug. "Tastes sweet to me, but not as sweet as your tight—"

Angie joins us at the table, plopping her tray beside Bella's. Bella's face turns ten shades of mortified and she narrows her eyes at me, pursing her lips.

"What tastes sweet?" Angie asks, shooting an amused smile between the two of us. "The apple?"

"Bella's ass," I reply. Bella's face turns crimson and she chunks a wadded-up napkin at me, missing me by a mile.

"The two of you are touched." Angie shakes her head, her amused grin transforming into a frown. "Did you hear that some weirdo has been hanging around town?"

Bella opens her soda, the sound cracking through the air. "What weirdo?"

Angie shrugs. "I dunno, some guy driving an old Chevy. He's been staying in a motel on the outskirts of town at night for the past couple of weeks. Mike Newton's uncle owns that motel— name is Waylon Newton. Anyway, Waylon says the man was in town back before Christmas. Said he was elusive when Waylon questioned him about what he was doing in town."

A memory prickles at my brain. "Drove a Chevy, huh?"

Angie nods and unwraps her sandwich. "Yeah, a restored, antique Chevy, according to Mike."

I haven't given much thought about Charlie … Swan? Yeah, Swan. His card remains tucked inside my wallet somewhere. Under the safety of the picnic table, I remove my wallet from my pocket and slide the business card out, reading the bold-printed words.

"So, when were you gonna tell me that you and Lauren had a talk?" Bella asks. The change in conversation and her sudden words jerk me back to the present. The card falls from my grasp and lands in the dirt near my boots.

"How'd you know about that?" Frowning, I take another bite of the apple and forget about Charlie Swan, more worried about my girl handing me my ass at the moment.

"She's been sugary sweet for the past few months." Bella shrugs. "So I cornered her in the girls' restroom and asked her what was going on. You read my Facebook private messages? Really?"

"You were crying." I toss the apple core onto her lunch tray and squint in the distance, noticing a familiar head of tousled blond hair. "And I knew you wouldn't tell me why you were so upset."

"Have you read anything else on my phone?" She frowns, her eyes downcast and sad. Angie watches us talk, her gaze volleying between the two of us as she peels the crust from her sandwich.

I scowl. "Of course not. It wasn't about invading your privacy or anything like that. The only reason I read your phone is because you were crying. I saw Lauren's name flash on the screen and I knew the two of you didn't get along."

"You shouldn't have done that." Her voice is soft, wounded. "You shouldn't have invaded my privacy."

"I felt the need to protect you," I say. "I always feel the need to protect you."

"That's so … sweet," Angie murmurs. Elbows on the table, chin propped on her hands, Angie smiles a whimsical smile, batting her eyes.

"I don't need protection," Bella grumbles. She stands, removing her legs from under the table and grabbing her tray. "I need someone who trusts me, someone who doesn't invade my privacy. Not only did you sneak around on my phone, you kept it from me. You had this entire conversation with Lauren on my behalf and never said a word. I'm not some dumb kid who can't speak up for myself. If we're gonna be together, you gotta trust me. And I have to trust you. And right now I'm not feeling the trust, Edward."

"Jesus, I'm sorry, okay?"

Angie sips from a juice box, eyebrows in her hairline.

"You're sorry?" Bella laughs and shakes her head, no trace of true humor on her face. "I'm stressing out over everything: graduation, moving away from home, finding us an apartment, living in a new town. Rose hasn't spoken to me in months, not since after you slugged Paul on the beach. And butt sex. I'm freaking out about having butt sex!"

Angie coughs and sputters. Capri Sun shoots out of her nose and drips down her chin. Bella slaps her on the back until Angie clears her throat, gasping in a startled breath. Orange-colored juice stains her white shirt.

"Why are you freaking out about the butt sex?" I frown. "We've been taking it slow. I've been prepping you for the actual act …"

"How would you feel if I stuck a salami up your ass?" Bella scowls and Angie continues to gasp for air. "Because that's how intimidating your giant-ass cock is."

"What, you want me to apologize for not having a tiny dick?"

Bella rolls her eyes and walks away, her shoulders slumped. Springtime sunlight spills through the thick clouds overhead, lighting her way. Angie clears her throat, garnering my attention.

"Salami-sized, huh?" Grinning, she wags her eyebrows wipes the juice from her nose with a wrinkled napkin.

Frowning, I look away from her and search for my girl again. The guy with the familiar blond hair passes her, shooting her a kind smile, one with no insinuation hidden behind it. Not anymore.

Jasper joins us at the table, Alice in tow. He jerks his head in Bella's direction, raising his eyebrows in question. "What's wrong with her?"

"Failure in communication," I reply.

Sighing, I reach for the card half-hidden in the dirt near my boots. I brush the soil away, wrinkling my forehead as I read the words.

Staff Sergeant Charlie Swan

U.S. Army Recruiter

"A failure in communication on my part." I tuck the card back into my wallet. "But not anymore."

Three sets of curious stares follow me as I cross the school grounds, my jaw set in determination.

~c00ch~

Bella continues to give me the cold shoulder for the rest of the day, shunning me when I attempt to block her from entering her last class. Charlie Swan's business card burns a hole inside my wallet, mocking me from keeping it hidden for so long. The card probably has nothing to do with anything at all, but still, after the confrontation during lunch, I'm not taking any chances.

The final bell rings and I dodge people left and right, darting down the corridor to wait on my girl so we can talk on the way home. But she's gone, her desk near the back of the classroom empty, void of her soft smile, teasing eyes, and chestnut hair. The parking lot is filled with laughter and loud voices, kids clambering to get inside their vehicles and head home, the promise of Friday night activities thick in the air. I stand on the trampled grass near the parking lot, glancing around for any signs of my girl and finding none.

Jasper stands beside his van, his semi-permanent partner nowhere around. He glances up as I approach him, his eyebrows raised in question until he notices me scanning the parking lot one more time.

"Alice took her home." The driver's door creaks and protests while he opens it. He tosses a book on the tattered passenger side seat. "She looked upset. You didn't smooth things out?"

I blow out a deep breath. "She didn't give me a chance."

"First fight?"

"Yeah." I scratch the back of my neck, my heart heavy in my chest. "I don't know how to make things right."

"Flowers? Candy?" Jasper laughs at my exasperated frown. "Hey, I'm as clueless as you. I've never had a girlfriend before."

"Bella isn't a flowers and candy kinda girl."

Jasper climbs into the van and turns to face me in the seat. "Well, what kind of girl is she?"

I mull over his question. "Thoughtful and selfless. Bella is the kind of girl who would rather wear jeans than a dress, the kind of girl who would rather cry over a sad, country tune than stand in a crowded concert rocking out to a live band. She loves greasy food and thick books. She says the wrong thing and always sticks her foot in her mouth. Loves cotton more than silk, and lazy mornings in bed." I swallow. "She melts when we watch The Notebook together, especially during the rain scene— the scene when they are in the boat surrounded by ducks or geese. Maybe they're swans."

Swan … Charlie Swan.

Jasper laughs, the mocking sound making me clock my man-card. "What happens during the rain scene?"

"Allie asks Noah why he didn't write to her after she returned home, not knowing that he had written her. He'd written a letter a day for a year, but her mother had kept the letters a secret from Allie." I clear my throat, shaking my head and feeling like a puss for having the movie memorized. "It was a misunderstanding."

Jasper tries to hide his smile, the bastard humoring me. "So what happened next in the movie? How did the Noah guy make things right with the Allie chick?"

"Other than the letters? He built her dream house right after she left him."

Jasper turns over the engine, bringing the rumbling van to life. "So give her a Notebook kind of romance."

The bastard eyeballs me in a knowing kind of way. A strange emotion takes over, settling inside my chest. I take a step back, my own grin uncontrollable. "Jasper, you're a damn genius."

Jasper slams the door and props his arm on the open window. "I know, man. I know."

~c00ch~

Instead of seeking Bella out when I pull into the drive, I head upstairs and hole up in my bedroom for the rest of the evening. Eyes burning from the glare of my computer screen, I barely register the light knock on my bedroom door.

Esme pops her head inside. "Edward? Supper is ready."

"I'm not hungry."

Esme frowns and enters my bedroom, arms crossed over her chest. "What are you looking at?"

"An apartment to rent." I sigh, scrubbing my forehead. "Bella has been doing all the searching and it isn't fair, so I'm gonna make it right. Hopefully I can find something nice and affordable to surprise her with." I grin up at her. "A dream home."

Esme gives me a soft smile. "You don't think she'll want any say on which apartment you choose?"

"I don't know," I mumble doubtfully. "There's a list of her 'qualifications' burned inside my brain. Finding an apartment with all those qualifications is the hard part. I just wanna do something nice for her, ya know?"

"Are y'all fighting?" she asks. "She's downstairs pouting over her plate."

"I read some messages on her phone." I groan at her disappointed frown. "She was crying. Still, that doesn't excuse what I did."

"And finding her dream apartment is your way of an apology?" Esme rests a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it in encouragement. "Edward, it's a sweet gesture, but I know my daughter. She'd want to be part of the apartment hunting process. Surprising her by renting an apartment without her knowledge will probably have the opposite reaction than what you're hoping for."

Groaning, I palm my face. "You're right. Now what am I supposed to do?"

"Give her some time, sweetie. She'll come around and when she does, sit down and have a heartfelt talk with her. Bella doesn't expect big surprises or huge declarations of love from anyone. She expects honesty and trust."

Honesty and trust.

"Speaking of honesty and trust." I dig inside my pocket, producing my wallet and removing the dirt-stained card. She takes it from my outstretched hand, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "This guy was in town a while back, asking if I knew Esme Platt. I thought he was kinda sketchy, so I told him I didn't know you. That was the last time I saw him, but I heard he's back in town. I should have told you about it before."

"Charlie Swan," she murmurs. "Doesn't sound familiar. Says he's an Army recruiter from South Carolina …"

"I heard he's staying at Waylon's hotel," I say. "Maybe you should give this card to Carlisle and let him check things out to be on the safe side."

Esme smiles and taps the card against the tip of my nose. "You know what? I think I will."

Those who attended the TFMU and heard me confess that writing anal is my hard limit are probably surprised by this chapter, but after speaking to a lovely reader afterward, I feel like Edward's obsession with Bella's ass has to eventually be addressed. lulz.

Let me know what you think!

Hoodie