A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

RL is super crazy right now. I wanted to get further into this chapter, but I figured I'd at least post this for now.

Also...I do realize that all of a sudden, a story about a couple on a cruise isn't quite as benign as it was when I first started this story. It's a crazy world out there right now, in many ways. The hubs and I usually take the kids on a cruise every year, but...we might be skipping this year's cruise. Therefore, this might be the only way I get to experience one this year. And since writing is an escape for me anyway, just as I know reading is an escape for many of you, I figured, let's just all escape what's going on out there for a bit together, huh? 3

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.


Seven Nights - Chapter 12

Day Five: Evening At Sea

For the past half hour, Jasper has been strolling up and down the upper decks of the cruise ship with the fading sun on his back, a beautiful woman at his side, and more swagger in his step than an octogenarian is usually known to possess. He struts each floor from bow to stern, port to starboard, with a smug smirk on his age-lined face, with his time-worn chin held high amidst the sea air, with his once-sagging shoulders broader and straighter than a man his age can usually hold them, and with a bouncy spring of a man at least twenty years his junior. Hefting the massive trophy - almost half his size - higher in his arms, he locks eyes with anyone and everyone who happens by and provides an abbreviated account of recent events to all who'll stop and listen.

"Just won the Ping-Pong tournament, 'case you're all wonderin' where I got this here trophy. Me. Jasper Whitlock. Remember that name cuz you'll be hearin' a lot more of it throughout the rest of this cruise. My wife Alice here blew on my balls and gave 'em good luck. That darn Ben Cheney thought he was gonna win this here trophy out from under me, but I had myself my lucky balls, and I wiped the ping-pong table with his and his scrub partner's wayward balls. Hah!"

Thankfully, most of our fellow passengers are enjoying their cruise vacations way too much to point out the obvious hilarity in this speech, and they're all at least halfway drunk anyhow. They reply with laughter, with an amused chuckle, with a grin or a smile - yet in a friendly manner and even with a few words of praise. Then again, it could be the warning glare Edward shoots them all before they open their mouths that tempers their replies.

"Oh, really? Wow! Congrats, Jasper Whitlock! Wish we would've seen that! And...uhm, kudos to you, Alice, for blowing on the lucky balls!"

"That's great, Jasper and Alice Whitlock!"

"Uhm...that's some trophy."

Meanwhile, sashaying proudly at her husband's side, Alice bestows on everyone a radiant smile and a languid, revolving-hand, beauty-pageant-style wave.

And hand-in-hand behind them like chaperones, maintaining enough distance to allow them to bask in their limelight, Edward and I share furtive looks and do our best not to burst into our own peals of laughter.

"Thank you, thank you. It was an amazing experience; truly it was." Alice's tone hearkens back to the olden days of Hollywood. She sounds like a glamorous starlet giving an acceptance speech. "But Jasper, we must make sure we thank Edward as well and give him the credit he's due as your tournament partner."

"He was...around to pick up my dropped balls and such," Jasper mumbles. "Not much more."

"Why, Jasper, he did so much more-"

"Less talkin' and more walkin', Alice! Less talkin' and more walkin'!"

"Do you need help carrying that, sir?" Graciously, Edward ignores the fact that his true role in the winning of the tournament has been completely omitted from Jasper's narrative.

"'Course I don't! Why would I need help carryin' my own trophy?" Jasper replies without even turning his head.

"No reason," Edward says, amusement bubbling in his voice. "Forgive me for asking. But you'll let me know if you do, won't you?"

I chuckle under my breath, while Edward and I swing our knit hands back and forth behind them. "They are so damn adorable."

"At least Alice is. Did you hear Jasper more or less relegate me to a ball boy?"

I muffle my snickers against Edward's shoulder. All the while, Alice and Jasper continue accepting accolades and adulation from our fellow passengers.

"Aww." I pretend to soothe his injured feeling by kissing his muscular arm. "You're no ball boy. I'd say you're more of a...a bat man. Yeah, that's what you are. You're a bat man with a long, hard, and massively thick bat."

His lips brush against mine. "Mm. If you behave, I'll let you play with my long, hard, and massively thick bat-" He laughs uproariously when I shove him away. "It's fine. going to be my new best friend come dinnertime anyway."

I quirk a brow. "You seem awfully interested in a six-decade-old love story as told by Jasper Whitlock."

"I am," he nods.

"Well, let's just hope Jasper's a bit less imaginative with the retelling of that tale than he's being with his Ping-Pong Tournament Win Tale. Seriously, Edward," I say as we resume our chaperone duties, "do you have any idea how the hell Jessica the Cruise Director managed such a huge trophy for a ping-pong tournament, meanwhile poor Emmett got a tiny ship-on-a-stick for winning the Sexiest Guy Contest?"

Edward's gaze remains front and center. "No idea."

"I mean, you'd think that would warrant at least a trophy as big as the ping-pong trophy turned out to be, don't you?"

Edward shrugs, smiling as he jerks his jaw in Jasper's direction, whose back is as straight as an arrow despite arthritis and the heavy trophy he carries.

"Just look at the old man. He's sure getting his kicks right now, isn't he?"

He chuckles when I yank his hand and pull him hard toward me, lifting myself on the tips of my flip-flops and leaning close to his ear.

"You're the true winner of that tournament, and don't think I don't strongly suspect that along with that, you also had a hand in the size of that trophy."

When I pull away, he lifts his brows in mock innocence. "I'm shocked by your accusations, Miss Swan."

"Edward Masen: ping-pong master, beats producer, best masseuse in the world...and an all-around wish granter to more than just grumpy, senior citizens. Seriously, what aren't you good at?"

We've reached the elevator bank, and while we wait for Alice and Jasper to pull themselves away from their adoring fans, Edward pulls me into his arms and so close I have to angle my head sharply to hold his suddenly intense sea-green gaze. He swallows hard before he speaks, and when he does, there's no longer any amusement in his voice.

"Bella Swan, hiking queen, nature lover, studier of sunsets...and the best trivia partner I've ever had. You want to know what I'm apparently not good at?"

"What?" I breathe, mesmerized by the focus in his expression.

"Letting you know- oof!"

There's suddenly a huge, golden trophy between Edward and me, which Jasper has shoved into Edward's arms. He and I pull apart, while Jasper scans the surroundings.

"Okay, we're in the clear. Now, remember, sonny," he says as we climb into the elevator, "hand it back to me 'fore them doors open!"

OOOOO

When Jasper is done circling the top three decks, we take the elevator down to the fifth-floor atrium, where the Towel Folding Contest is about to begin. We find a table situated as close as possible to where the action - of towel folding - is set to take place. At Jasper's surreptitious request, Edward inconspicuously helps Jasper set the ping-pong trophy on top of the table. Then, since there are only three chairs at the table, and all other chairs are quickly taken, I take a seat on Edward's lap.

"Don't get too comfortable there," Edward whispers in my ear,. Despite his words, his arms are wound snugly around my waist, holding me securely. "You've got a Towel Folding Contest coming, which you promised to enter if I entered the Sexiest Guy Contest. That was the deal."

"But I've got the best seat in the house right now," I tease, angling my head sideways to take him in while I furtively grind into his lap. I feel him harden, and my thighs instinctively clench.

"Mph," he grunts lowly, his eyes dark and hungry. "Yeah, you do. But you're still entering the contest."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

I cup a hand around his ear and whisper, "But what about that nice, thick hard-on you've got going? Everyone's going to see it if I stand up."

He chuckles and shakes his head, meeting my eyes. "Bella Swan, you're so...I swear to God, you'll be the death of me. You're entering the contest now...and taking care of that later." He bucks his hips just enough to let me know to what 'that' he refers.

"Am I now?"

"You woke it up."

"I've noticed it doesn't tend to sleep much."

He snorts. "Not when you're around, no. Stop changing the subject."

I bounce peevishly, making Edward grunt again. "It's not fair, Edward. There are at least twice the number of people here that were at the Sexiest Guy Contest. It looks like everyone on board is here!"

"The Towel Folding Contest is a biggie on cruise ships, yeah. Wasn't that explained in your brochure?" he teases.

"So is the Ping-Pong tournament," Jasper grumbles, "and I got myself the trophy!"

"Yes, you did, darling," Alice reassures her husband, patting his liver-spotted hand and shooting me a not-so-subtle wink that makes me press my lips together.

It's in the middle of this fun yet inane conversation that I recall the fact that I haven't checked my phone in a couple of hours. On the heels of that recollection, I further recall that I'm wearing a pool cover-up with no pockets, and that I'm not carrying a bag, and that the last place I remember seeing my phone was next to me on the pool chair on Lido Deck. More than a little panicked, my breath hitches while I instinctively pat myself down despite knowing I don't have my phone.

"Relax," Edward says softly. He sets my cell phone on the table next to the trophy. "You left it on your pool chair when we were getting ready to go meet Alice and Jasper. Since you don't have pockets, and you're not carrying a bag, I grabbed it and stuck it in my pocket."

I'm flooded with relief that Edward has my phone and simultaneously pissed off at myself for being so damn...distracted that I forgot all about it and it's significance in the first place. I mean, losing your cell phone is one thing, but losing your phone when its your only connection to the outside world...

"I took a peek a short while ago. There were no calls."

So, he's checked my phone again. Again, two very different emotions compete for dominance: the fact that I'm nowhere near as bothered by that as I should be, and the fact that I'm kind of bothered about not being bothered. He's burrowing too deep, and I-

"You okay?"

"I panicked there for a moment."

"Yeah, you look pretty panicked right now."

For one moment, our gazes remain locked, and while I have no idea what he's thinking, I ponder to myself how much he does seem to know despite the fact that we've known one another for all of five days.

My thoughts are interrupted by the loud music and ensuing buzz that greet Jessica the Cruise Director's grand entrance into the atrium.

I've got to give it to the woman: she's literally been at every event so far that Edward and I have attended this cruise - from parties to trivia to poolside games to ping-pong tournaments and now this - and she's still spotless in her crisp white polo and blue Bermuda shorts, with nary a frizz to be found in her brown, curly ponytail. What's more, she's still bubbly and apparently on point because though the atrium is packed, and I'm more or less draped over Edward, Jessica notices him right away. She yells excitedly into the microphone in her cockney British accent.

"Edward love, you're here, and I'm just chuffed all over again!" She fans herself then proceeds to make an announcement with grand flourish toward Edward. "Ladies and gentleman, in case you missed it earlier, Edward here was runner-up at our poolside Sexiest Guy Contest! Though, he should've been the winner."

She adds the last part with a sly smile and in a not so quite aside sort of aside, the entire announcement spoken with all the pomp of someone announcing the actual winner - not runner-up - of the Nobel Peace Prize. Meanwhile, the whistles and cat calls that rise up on every floor of the open atrium match the tone of her announcement.

"Edward! Edward! Edward!"

It's amusingly distracting, almost as if half of the cruise ship knows him. Some of them even sound like they might be yelling out "autograph!", which is hilarious considering he was just runner-up at the poolside Sexiest Guy Contest.

And it's bedlam. Edward's cheeks turn scarlet while I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hard, laughing. Yet somehow, despite the cacophony, someone on one of the upper atrium floors looking down manages to shout loud enough to make himself heard.

"Hey, hey, hey! I was the actual winner of that Sexiest Guy Contest!"

The massive crowd erupts in an even rowdier ruckus, while Emmett's booming laughter frames it all.

When the commotion finally dies down, Jessica begins picking off six volunteers from the dozens and dozens of passengers with raised hands. As she picks off contestants from all over the atrium, my hands remain at my sides.

"We've got three volunteers. We need three more!"

"Isn't Bella supposed to be joining?" Alice asks Edward.

"Shh, Alice!" I say.

"She will," Edward says.

"If the girl don't want to join the contest, then the girl don't need to join the contest!"

"Alice and I are just saying" Edward says.

"Well, stop saying is what I'm saying! Poor girl. Probably don't want to be embarrassed when my trophy trumps hers!"

"Only one volunteer slot left!" Jessica announces. Her back is to us, and I prepare to breathe a sigh of relief when she points toward someone all the way in the back. "How about you, young-"

Edward clears his throat loudly, and I swear the woman spins around instantly as if he's shouted her name.

Edward lifts my hand high.

"Edward!" I hiss, trying to yank down my hand.

"Blimey! Is this the bees knees or what? Edward,would you like to be our final volunteer?" Jessica shrieks eagerly.

"No, not me. My...Bella here."

"Oh," Jessica says, deflated. "Lovely. Just...lovely."

As I lift myself off his lap, I turn and shoot Edward a scathing glare.

"You're dead," I warn. "And I hope everyone sees your hard-on."

He chuckles, unfazed by my threats or my evil wishes, and winks and blows me a kiss. "Good luck."

"Good luck, Bella honey!" Alice calls out.

"Yeah. Good luck, girlie. Try not to get discouraged by the small trophy you'll likely win if you win! Hah!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our final contestant! The brilliant Bella!"

After the applause dies down, Jessica sets up the six of us 'volunteers' with our own towel-folding station. She then moves to her own station, where she talks us and the audience through the steps of expertly folding a basic bath towel into an elephant. In about ninety seconds, she's done.

"And...Bob's your uncle! It's just that easy peasy, innit?"

The audience agrees with thunderous applause.

Honestly, the entire process does seem pretty simple and straightforward. No longer quite so pissed off at Edward, I shoot him a confident smile and a thumbs up.

He laughs hard as he returns the thumbs up. "All right, Bella!"

"Right then. What we'll do is set a timer for a whole of five minutes!" Jessica exclaims. "Though I'm sure none of our brilliant and talented contestants here will need the entire five minutes to create their own towel elephant. Therefore, the contestant who finishes first with a towel which actually resembles an elephant will win the contest and receive our grand Towel Folding Trophy!"

"Bet it won't be nothing like my Ping-Pong trophy!"

"Are we ready then? Ready, Steady, Go!"

The entire five minutes, at least on my end, is summed up by these type of statements:

"Bloody hell, what in heavens even is that you're folding the towel into? This is a family cruise, mate!"

"Bella, now that job has definitely gone pear-shaped! Are you plastered or something, love?"

"'Right, I am literally gobsmacked by what a botched job that there is! I don't think I've ever seen such a wonky elephant in my life!"

By the time time's up, my fellow passengers are laughing at me so hard that the ship's band has joined in with musical accompaniment.

And I'm laughing so hard at myself that my ribs hurt.

And laughing uncontrollably himself, Edward approaches and pulls me into his arms, lifting me off the floor.

"Now we're both losers," I say.

He brushes his lips against mine. "I'm good with that."

"Better luck next time joining the winner's circle, Bella!" Emmett calls down from one of the upper floors. "Love ya, kiddo!"

I ignore him because Edward's mouth moves against mine delectably, sucking on my top lip then on my bottom lip and then plunging his tongue deep between both lips - atrium full of passengers and misshapen towels be damned.

"Get a room, you two!" I hear Garrett shout, and then both he and his husband's loud chortles.

When I finally pull away to breathe, Edward sets me down, grinning.

My own grin falters when I catch a glimpse of someone over Edward's shoulder, just a few feet behind him. It's a person who, in the past few days, I've rarely thought of and even almost forgot I actually boarded the ship with him.

Quil's top lip curls, and he performs one of those slow, 'Aha, now I see,' nods. His shoulders rise and fall, while in my periphery and next to him, I think I see Jake scowling.

"What?" Edward asks. He turns and looks over his shoulder, but by then, Quil and Jake have been swallowed up by the swarming crowd.

"Nothing," I say and repeat it when Edward turns back to me with a curious frown. "Nothing."

"Are you sure?" he asks somewhat dubiously.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Oh, Bella," Alice sighs as she approaches with Jasper. "I was rooting for you until the very end despite those strange and rather erotic shapes you were twisting that towel into."

"Thank you, Alice," I smile and give her hand a squeeze, pushing Quil and his disturbing appearance out of my mind.

"Yeah, me too, girlie," Jasper grumbles, "even if your trophy would'a looked pitiful next to mine." He hefts his trophy high. "I'll let you take a picture with it."

"Thank you, Jasper," I grin, the unpleasant moment completely dispelled now. I won't have to deal with them until the flight home. "That's really thoughtful of you."

"Actually, Jasper, we should probably head back to our room for a short while so that you can take a little nap. Don't forget you promised Edward a story this evening during dinner."

"Don't need no nap," Jasper mumbles.

Besides," Alice continues, "I'm sure Edward and Bella would appreciate some time to freshen up before dinner." She gets on her tip toes and whispers in my ear. "Is an hour enough for...what is it that you young kids call them nowadays? A quickie?"

I shut my eyes and chuckle quietly. "Alice."

OOOOO

She's not wrong.

After another marathon run back to our- I mean, Edward's suite, we barely make it past the door. As soon as it slams shut behind us, Edward pushes me against it and crashes his mouth to mine. Cradling my hips between his large hands, he strokes my heated skin through the thin material of my dress. Our kisses are instantly frenzied, his mouth on mine then on my neck then around a thinly-covered breast.

I throw my head back and fist his hair. "I'm aching for you so badly it's almost painful."

"I'll take care of you, baby. Jesus, Bella, it's like I can't go more than a couple of hours without needing to touch you...to be inside you..."

There's no denying that it's very sexual, this thing between us. We can barely keep our hands off one another in public, much less in private.

But then...how does he know how much his kindness to Alice and Jasper means to me?

How does he know, when we're out on the islands, to take me to the quiet hiking trails as opposed to the fancy resorts? Or that I'll enjoy a stupid towel folding contest no matter how much I pretend to protest? How does he know to grab my phone and check it even if some part of me rebels against it?

It's sexual, this attraction between us, but...

But again, I have no time to study it further because Edward straightens and fists the material of my dress, pulling it over my head in one smooth motion. Having foregone a bra, I'm left in my panties, breathless and squirming between him and the door while he takes me in through eyes darkened by undeniable lust.

"Please...please touch me."

I've never in my life been so turned on by my own shameless begging.

"God, you're beautiful," he says, voice almost strangled with awe as he gazes at me as if he hasn't seen me like this almost perpetually since we boarded this ship.

When he kisses and touches me - while I'm almost naked and he's still fully dressed in his nice polo and Bermuda shorts - it's deliciously erotic. I feel both powerful and overpowered by the knowledge that he can't even stop touching me long enough to take off his own clothes, and by the texture of his clothing as it brushes against me - they smell like him: like cologne and sea and Edward and want, and as he pins me against the door, every nerve ending in my body sings. His mouth devours my skin and his hands knead and stroke. When he pushes in a finger, I whimper and again throw back my head.

"Yes...yes...thank you," I breathe.

Edward chuckles. "Shh, they'll hear you through the door, my love," he murmurs, mouth on mine.

"I don't care."

"You sure?" His mouth trails lower, wet kisses on the space between my breasts then further down to my stomach.

"I'm sure..." I confirm, fisting his hair. Honestly, the ship could literally sink at the moment and I wouldn't give a damn as long as Edward's fingers and mouth continue what they're doing. "I'm so damn sure."

He grips my hips, and I hold my breath while his warm breath hovers in just the right spot. With the first long lap, my back arches and my hips buck, legs completely giving out. But Edward holds me up while my mouth falls open in a silent scream; though I'm silenced not by shame or a thought to whether I can be heard on the other side of the door, but simply because it's so good I can't breathe much less make a sound.

"I thought you didn't care if they heard you."

I hear the humor in his voice, despite what he's doing. When I yank him up by his hair, he complies instantly, looking disheveled and more than a little confused about why I've stopped him.

"Oh God," he expels when I flip us around and push his back against the door. As I drop to my knees, there's desperation in his movements as he helps me unbuckle his belt, and he pulls down his own zipper. I almost laugh when I take him, and he bangs his head hard against the door, winding my hair around his fist and guiding me as he utters delicious obscenities in a strangled voice and between guttural groans.

"It's you I want everyone to hear," I tease when my mouth is free.

"Bella...it's you I...I...I lo-"

I stand up fast.

My mouth finds his with almost bruising force, and when he pulls away, eyes dark and fiery, I'm momentarily frightened. But not of him.

Seeing Quil has served as a reminder: there's a world beyond this damn ship, and there's a reckoning coming one way or another, from one place or the other. I won't escape this unscathed, no matter what.

And really? He was going to let those words slip out while I was on my knees in front of him?

And all the while, Edward looks as pissed off as I feel. Yet, instead of the reckoning, he picks me up and carries me to the bed, laying me across the plush mattress. However, he doesn't proceed to lay his body over me. He circles the bed frame languidly, eyes on me as he reaches behind his nape and yanks off his polo. Once. Twice. Three times he circles the bed.

"Edward..."

He resembles a lithe copper-haired lion circling its prey, nostrils flaring, jaw locked, broad shoulders straight and tense. Even when he climbs the bed, he does so in an unhurried, gracefully measured manner - one, powerful arm followed by a sinewy leg then the other. His tendons visibly stretch as he scales upward.

"Edward, please..."

"What do you want, Bella? Tell me what you want from me?"

He almost growls the words as he crawls up my body, hovering, supporting his frame on rigid arms, corded muscles straining as he waits for my answer.

"You," I breathe.

"You want me?"

"Yes."

"You want me how, inside you?"

"Yes."

He drives in so fast and deep that I gasp wildly in as much surprise as undeniable pleasure. When my back instinctively arches, Edward wraps an arm around me and holds me against his chest as he thrusts and grunts and buries his face against my neck.

And despite the haze of lust enveloping me, I can't help thinking that...he's avoiding my gaze. And even as we cry out in mutual ecstasy, I can't help fearing that we're doing something massively wrong here.


A/N: Thoughts?

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