Chapter Thirty-Five—Connections

Edward lost track of time staring at the ceiling tiles above the bed, his mind a cluttered mess. He heard the door to the bedroom he randomly chose glide open, breaking his thoughts.

"May I join you?" Bella knew he was wide-awake. She always seemed to know where he was in a room without looking. A sense they easily shared.

Edward lifted the bed covers without a word, waiting for her to slip in beside him.

She didn't hesitate to join him, but left over a foot of space between them. She turned to face him, her voice softer than usual. "I don't know if you're mad at me or the situation in general."

He wasn't sure what to say yet.

Bella sighed when he didn't answer. "I'd like to believe you don't hate me."

"I could never hate you, Bella, but the situation is fucked up. If your father did call mine for help, it was my father's choice to put my mother and me in harm's way. That's something he'll have to live with for the rest of his life."

If his father were anything like Edward, the guilt would eat away at him for a long time.

Bella's hand slid closer to Edward's body, but stopped before reaching him. "It does explain a lot though, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Edward turned toward her, brushing hair away from her face. He dropped his hand between them, unsure if she wanted him to touch her.

"You said your father's behavior was strange soon after moving here. Why? The Mayor approached him, that's why. Then, after the accident, he demanded to share a room with your mother. He feels guilty."

"Your father does, too."

Bella nodded. "Me, too."

Edward could read it on her face and in her eyes. He had to touch her, couldn't stay away from her. He cupped her cheek, running his thumb along the soft curve. "You're not the one putting our lives in danger." She scoffed, as he expected. "Okay, your involvement is making their trigger fingers itchy, but you're fighting them, trying to destroy the organization. That's a lot more than the fucking FBI and our fathers are doing."

"At first, I didn't give a fuck about the organization. It was all about finding out who killed Peter and Charlotte, making whoever had them killed, pay for it. But, I can't ignore this new deal. To stand by and do nothing as they gather young girls and boys to sell to the highest bidders. I couldn't live with myself, Edward. I just couldn't."

"I know, because I feel the same way." Edward could no longer stand the distance, pulling her closer. Providing comfort seemed like a foreign concept to Edward, only doing what felt right. Her arms held him tight, almost too hard, but he didn't mind. "Get some sleep, baby. We'll shower in a few hours, and hopefully, by then, we can see my parents."

"We have to confront them."

"Yeah, I figured that." Edward sighed and closed his eyes. Somehow, sleep came a little easier to Edward; having Bella tucked safely in his arms allowed his mind to rest.

An obnoxious as fuck alarm woke them up several hours later, and Edward helped Bella into a shower. He stood behind her as the water cascaded over their exhausted bodies. "I'm too tired to wash my hair," she mumbled, her forehead resting on the tile.

Edward grabbed her bottle of some fancy brand of shampoo she bought at a store earlier and started to massage the product into her hair and scalp. She moaned under his touch, her beautiful body pressing against his. He thought he was too tired and emotionally drained to feel any sort of desire, but a jolt of energy in the form of lust and need warmed his blood. It sent adrenaline throughout his body. The more she moaned and hummed, the more he wanted her. He tried to keep his hips from shifting closer, his body begging for more of her.

"Step back into the water," he murmured, keeping himself in check.

She lifted her arms to rinse her hair, her back on display for his lingering eyes. A couple bruises littered her ribs on one side, when she'd landed hard to avoid being shot.

The reminder of how Edward almost lost her made him groan, but there was no mistaking it for one of pleasure, it was of pain.

Bella turned to look at him with concern in her eyes. She must've noticed something, because she grabbed his arms, as if she needed the support.

He cupped her face with both hands, praying she understood what he needed. Words were lost to him, driven deep down, as desire and a desperate need to know she was alive and well, consumed him.

He needed to know they were okay.

The only word he managed to say was her name. Either the break in his voice or the plea in the two little syllables had her responding. She moment she nodded, he kissed her. He wanted to be gentle, but so many emotions coalesced inside him, threatening to explode in violence. He'd never hurt her, but being with her like this seemed the safest, most gratifying way to release it all.

Her tongue stroked his with equal fervor, her hands exploring his back with the same strength as his own. Time felt irrelevant as they touched each other under the warm water. His hands slid down her back, curving over her ass. Her answering moan had his emotions he had yet to understand, firing through him. He grabbed her hard then, unable to help himself, to hold back.

"Yes, yes," she hissed, as he tightened his hands on her. He teased her from behind with his fingers, until he had her back pressed into the cool tile wall. His fingers dug in for several seconds longer, then slid down to the backs of her thighs to lift her off her feet. Slick from the water, she struggled for a moment to wrap her legs around him, but soon she was right where she belonged.

For a second, he doubted himself, them, or maybe the situation in general, pausing before sinking inside her. Sensing he needed something, Bella trailed her lips along his jawline until she reached his ear. "I need you."

He groaned, thrusting inside her hard and fast. She shivered in his arms, her gasp not only heard but felt. They didn't move for a few moments, lost in each other and in the feeling of coming together. Their eyes met, his forehead resting on hers as he secured his hold on her.

"Stay with me." He groaned softly when she nodded again. He'd take it as a fucking promise; losing her would fuck him up. Her arms tightened around his shoulders as he ground against her. Every time he pushed inside her, she'd tug on his hair.

Tight, warm, slick, she felt so damn good.

Moments like that felt like the first time, and he told himself it would always feel that way. He intended to treat each time they came together as if it were their first and last. The reminder of the target on her back had him thrust harder, deeper. Her head fell back against the tile in ecstasy, making whispered promises he intended for her to keep. He tasted every inch of skin within reach, even her tears.

"Don't let go," she cried out, her arms circling his head and shoulders. "Don't ever let go. I'll always f-find you." She screamed out his name, trembling in his arms.

His thrusts quickened, as she coaxed his orgasm with her lips and impassioned words. Edward came with a groan of her name and a promise. "I'm never letting you go."