AN: Happy Holidays, everyone! Forgive me for taking so long to update this time. I attend university and as a premed taking an insane number of units during fall quarter, I rarely found time to simply sleep properly. But I'm well-rested now, and I have a comparatively easy load for winter quarter, so I hope you haven't lost trust in me.

To make up for my epic fail at updating these last two months, I made this chapter extremely long. I've been working on it during my vacation trip, so I could update as soon as possible.

So much is about to happen in this story. I'm excited!

This is my favorite chapter yet, and I hope it becomes yours as well.

Please enjoy.

In the swim team locker room-

Damien Hale: Why doesn't Jasper shower with us?

Emmett McCarty: Because he has a small cock. It's miniscule. That's why he's in the bathroom stalls for so long. He's trying to take a huge piss through a tiny schlong.

Jasper/Isabella Swan: No, I simply don't want to embarrass the rest of you. My package is huge—just ask my girlfriend.

Edward Cullen: Don't any of you DARE ask his girlfriend.

BPOV

Being stressed is like being in a shark tank. You might make friends with the sharks and come out unscathed, or more likely you'll lose a few limbs.

From experience, I learned the best therapy for stress is a shower, where sharks can't fit. Usually.

So, after stressing over rat tails, hidden identities, and forbidden love, I tried to dispel the evil thoughts swimming in my brain by showering in Alice's bathroom. I thought I was being smart and avoiding the one I shared with Edward—for obvious reasons. And a few not so obvious ones which had to do with hormones and girly obsession.

Considering what I was trying to avoid, imagine my genuine surprise when I heard Edward's voice call out for Alice just outside the bathroom door. No, imagine my terror.

His voice shot through me like adrenaline, yet the fear at being found out somehow also intensified a feeling I only recently identified as desire.

Shaking, I peered through the glass shower doors. The door to the bathroom had just opened slightly.

Flames of fear and desire licked up my spine, and I froze. What do I do?

Jasper wouldn't shower here right before swim practice! That would look suspicious. Shit. Shit. Triple shit.

My options were slim. Edward thought I was Alice taking a shower right now, so he might very well step inside and see all of Jasper's clothes strewn across the floor. But he'd notice that only a single person was in the shower. Then the questions would begin. Which meant my options actually totaled to one: Keep Edward out!

"It's not Alice. It's um…Bu-Bella," I called out. "I'll be right out."

The door immediately shut with a resounding thud.

Simultaneously rinsing the shampoo rapidly from my hair and holding my stomach, I sank to the floor and tried to control my breathing.

"It's okay. It's okay. It's friggin' okay," I said to myself. "IT'S OKAY!"

I might have been close to hyperventilation, but I focused my mind on happy things like puppies and daisies, and when the water automatically grew warmer, it relaxed my muscles enough to get me off the cold floor.

Three minutes later, I stepped out, dried off, and stuffed my male clothes in large cracks and crevices behind the sink.

Preparing myself to walk out in a towel because I had nothing else, I said three words fervently, "Suck it up."

Then I opened the door.

He was there and tensely sitting on the arm of a couch, which was visible through the hallway that connected the bathroom to the living room. He had straddled the arm and was staring, unblinking at the muted television facing away from me.

I stepped slowly forward, and he turned slightly, enough for me to watch his eyes grow minutely darker with every passing second. Blood rushed to my brain and to everywhere else in my body until I was sure I glowed pink.

I came to a stop a few feet away, but I couldn't lift my head enough to look at him.

"Sorry," I squeaked. "I thought no one was here."

Silence took over. He didn't move. Didn't speak.

I tentatively looked up and did what I swore I wouldn't. I moaned.

He gasped and in a movement of limbs too fast for me to follow, he fell backwards onto the couch so clumsily he could have been me.

"Edward?" I rushed forward, placing my arms on his chest and looking down at him. "Edward?" I asked again.

He appeared dazed, almost drunk. I could feel his breath on my neck and involuntarily shivered. Then I noticed he was not staring into my eyes. Looking down with a gasp, I realized my towel had fallen in my rush to help him.

Oh freaking fuck.

Before I could move, he was across the room. Then he was across the island separating this room with the kitchen and banging pots and pans as if he were preparing to cook something and knew what he was doing.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked loudly, ostensibly trying to appear like he had not just ogled my naked breasts. His mussed hair stuck up in all directions, and he looked like a tortured, smoldering madman trapped in a kitchen.

I, for one, was shaking. Chips of ice infused my blood, freezing and slowing it down. I did not know how I really felt right then, which for some reason, was the scariest thing ever. I wanted to cover my body with a thousand pieces of cloth yet tear off the towel now wrapped around me at the same time.

"No," I called shakily. "I ate with Alice."

He stilled at that. "Where is she?"

"Gone for the night. Some party in the quad everyone's been crazy about."

Slowly, he turned and looked me squarely in the eye. "Why are you here then? Don't you have your own school to attend?" His voice rose. "Why do I keep seeing you?"

Gulping, I answered, "This is only the second time."

"Answer me."

"I drove over for the night. I was at the party and someone spilled something all over me, so I returned for a quick shower." That sounded plausible. Yeah. Definitely.

Emerald eyes held mine then for a moment that felt too long. "You like to party, huh?" he finally asked, a touch of disgust lacing his words.

Oh. He thinks I'm a slut.

The hurt must have been plain in my eyes because he looked away. "Well, you better get dressed. There are plenty of guys who I'm sure are missing your presence."

Oh, now I could feel anger simmering within me.

"Well?" he asked after a beat of silence. I could see his fists balled at his sides. "Not excited about some man meat anymore?"

Now the anger was bubbling over.

"Well, Swan?" he asked.

He was fucking talking to me like I was Jasper!

Well, I could return his words in kind. I stalked into the kitchen and let the venom pour into my mouth. "You hypocritical whore."

"Excuse me?" he asked stormily, fully facing me now.

"You think your playboy status in this institution is anything less than renowned?" I mocked. "Or do you think shoving me against a wall in some club didn't tip me off to your man-whoring tendencies? Well, lookie-here, Master Cullen. I am not a bumbling idiot, and the last thing I am is a slut. So you can take your nasty insinuations and dig yourself a grave six feet into the ground for all I care."

"Well, you seemed to like the shoving," he mocked. "And for someone who's not a slut, you were pretty quick to let me into your panties." He stepped closer. "Which were drenched."

The breath caught in my throat. "You horrible…vile…manipulative…"

He smirked. "What, love? Going to call me nasty names? Stick a dagger into my nonexistent heart?"

For a nanosecond, surprise overpowered anger. "You have a heart."

Scoffing, he grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly against him. His face looked cruel and empty. Except for the bitterness etched around his eyes. "And how the hell would you know?"

I stared at him. For the first time, I really took a look at Edward Cullen. And what I saw broke my heart. Because he truly believed what he just said. Deep down, where everything matters and nothing is a lie, he believed he could no longer feel.

So I couldn't help it at all.

I kissed him.

I stepped onto my tiptoes and slanted my mouth over his warm lips.

And without a seemingly second thought, he pulled me away. Just like that. It felt as if ashes of something fell around me while my heart crumbled. The blood pounded in my ears, and feeling like a lonely ragdoll in his arms, I shivered again.

Suddenly, Edward looked down at me with an expression so full of emotion, I couldn't begin to decipher it.

He sighed.

Unpredictable as always, he pulled me closer and lazily sucked on my lower lip, almost in apology. Pulling away with a lick to the corner of my mouth, he softly repeated his earlier question. "How the hell would you know?"

I cocked my head and for the first time, I realized something that had been staring me in the face for weeks. "The way you look at me. That's how. That's why I let you shove me up against a wall." I kissed his tense neck reverently, watching the delicious muscles there bunch. "That's why I was drenched," I whispered.

He groaned softly. "What are you doing to me?" he asked.

I nuzzled his neck, rubbing my cheek against his warm skin. "I remember you. The little boy with the sad green eyes. But you weren't little. I'd bet you've never been little." I chuckled. "You grabbed my arm whenever I tripped over air. Always seconds before I hit the floor. And the one time you tripped, I cleaned your cuts with my shirt. I even remember the way you'd look at me. I didn't understand then."

I lifted my head and looked him in the eye before continuing. "I understand now. You were falling. I'm falling too," I breathed.

Cold, tapered fingers touched my cheek, and my eyes closed for a moment as I savored his touch.

"I've missed you," he said.

My eyes moistened. "You knew where I was. Why did Alice keep you a secret? Why didn't you find me?"

He shook his head, and his lip quivered almost imperceptibly. "We can't be, Bella. You and I. We can't."

"Why?"

He leaned his forehead against mine. "I'm not…I'm not whole. I can't be what you need."

Determined, I grabbed his face between my hands. "You're acting like Jasper. You're being a drama king."

He raised an eyebrow almost in warning, "Do not compare me to your brother."

"You have something against my brother?" I asked, hoping I would finally gain a kernel of information about Edward and Jasper's history.

"He's with Alice," Edward said.

"Yes. And?"

"Do I need another reason?"

I stared. "Does that mean Jasper has the right to hate you?"

"Why? Are you saying I'm with you?" he asked.

I was silent.

He leaned slightly forward. "Am I with you, Bella?"

"You said you can't be."

His eyes, previously so dark, lightened a little. "I'm with you, Bella, if you say it. Say it and mean it."

I don't know how I knew what he meant, but I did.

"I want you, Edward. All of you."

With a hungry moan, he grabbed the flimsy towel around me and fisted it. When he tore it off, I stood there without complaint, utterly naked and mesmerized by the man before me. Because in the ways that mattered, he was naked too.

"Bella," he whispered.

"Edward."

His name was permission. It was admittance. It was an answer to so much. And he understood, pulling me close and promptly sucking a nipple into his mouth. I melted, and he kept me standing. We stayed there for so long, just kissing and groping as much as we could until he lifted me onto a countertop and spread my legs.

My ass was cold from the marble, but I panted from the heat coursing through my veins and the throbbing both within my flushed chest and between my open thighs.

Edward Cullen was staring at me like he was about to eat me. In more ways than one.

"Bella?" he asked. "Can I? Has anyone ever…?"

I shook my head, furiously encouraging him to continue. Wherever this was leading, it had to get there fast or I would pitifully combust from unfulfilled need.

"No, never," I said. Then I moaned out a "Pleeeeeeeease" that had me blushing scarlet.

Edward yanked me closer and swiftly swiped his tongue straight up my pussy. Then he did it again. And again.

I screamed.

He smirked.

I whimpered.

He nibbled.

Finally, his tongue probed my opening—hesitantly at first before plunging inside.

"Edward-oh my g—EDWARD!"

He was relentless with his pace. He plundered my body like he could take in my very soul through his mouth. I began thrashing like the slut he had accused me of being, grabbing his hair and tugging with unbridled lust and virginal enthusiasm.

"Fuck, you taste like my dreams come true," he murmured, his lips still attached to me. "So wet, so luscious, so miraculously MINE right now."

Pleasure and pain fought like demonic twins in my body, infusing me with a delicious feeling to which I knew I could grow addicted. Apparently, he was my brand of heroin.

I glanced down to see his lips glistening from my moisture. The sight sent me into small convulsions.

"Yes," I panted desperately. "More."

My fingers dug into Edward's scalp, but he only moaned and worked determinedly faster, never lifting his face long enough that I lost the fire. It tingled as a tight coil deep in my belly, expanding until the pressure there hit its peak, and just when my world reached an impossible height, I fell.

The descent was long and frightening because of how amazing it felt. My body was not mine anymore. I had no control in this moment. I just knew I was different now.

I could only feel the pleasure his tongue allowed me—nothing else-and I never felt more secure in allowing someone such total control over my body and its emotions.

The spasms rocked through me with amazing force, and all I could hear were Edward's encouraging words as his fingers replaced his tongue, curling and twisting within me, drawing out the pleasure like honey from a hive.

Finally stilling, I looked up to see Edward looming beautifully above me. His sweet, sweet smile lit my world. Practically cooing to me as if I'd been a good child, he gathered my limp figure in his arms and wrapped me in a jacket that smelled wonderfully like him.

Blissfully engulfed in Edward, I felt my eyelids droop.

As he carried me, I thought I heard him say, "Practice in fifteen minutes, baby. Sorry."

The delicious tingling in my legs felt so good, and the covers tucked around my body were so warm, but something was definitely bothering me. I pushed it away, fighting with the thought that I should get up—until realization glared within my brain as clearly as if it were waving a neon sign.

"PRACTICE!" I screamed and shot out of bed. Then I noticed I needed clothing. Whoops.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived, panting and huffing at the edge of the pool. I stared at my teammates, all frozen in different degrees of surprise. Twenty nine pairs of eyes were burning holes into my skin from within the water.

Hulky Emmett McCarty was the only one grinning. Eric's eyes were bugging out so far from his face, I didn't recognize him at first, and Stephen was just shaking his head.

The Timely Twins, or Jack and Kevin Handelsberg, astutely drew their hands across their necks to signal my impending demise.

Oh, please, don't kill me. Please. I just had the best experience of my life. Don't tarnish it with a torturous death.

"Swan!" someone called.

Heart beating furiously in my chest, I turned to see Coach Drake stomping his way down the bleachers with his megaphone swinging at his side. His long raven hair flung wildly about his face.

"Where the hell have you been? You suddenly think team practice is voluntary?"

He stalked ever closer, the glow in his eyes turning brighter with each foot forward. When he was so close I could feel his breath on my cheek, he lifted the megaphone between us and said, "GET IN THE FUCKING WATER AND PRAY THAT YOUR CAPTAIN HAS MERCY ON YOUR SOUL!"

Great. Everyone already sensed Edward's dislike for me and knew I was dead meat. Even the fucking coach looked half-gleeful that I was about to get it.

Frightened and practically deafened from the megaphone, I didn't hear anything before I felt large hands wrap around my ankles and dump me into the water.

I moved my limbs frantically, finally reaching air and gulping in precious oxygen.

But I was too afraid to speak once I spied Edward, wet and powerful, sitting at the edge of the pool like an omnipotent judge—but instead of a gavel, he had a forbidding whistle slung around his neck, and his fingers were steepled before him in thought.

Those fingers. Damn, they were just inside me, stroking, inflaming, loving, fucking.

I may have stared too long. But it was worth it.

"Swan," Edward said warningly.

I looked up. He didn't seem murderous.

But everything had gone deathly still.

Edward pushed himself off the poolside and entered the water, his whistle floating on the surface until his head emerged.

Cullen shook his head to remove the wet strands of copper hair in his eyes. He was wearing a jammer today, so his stunning chest was on display as he made his way towards me.

Yeah, this is why girls aren't allowed on men's teams. They gape at chests when they should worry about looming death.

Finally face to face, Edward and I remained there a moment, treading water and staring. Everyone gathered round, forming a perfect circle in the water.

The crowd scared me more than Edward did.

I tried to fear him, tried to remind myself that I was in trouble. Yet one look at that face only sent love and desire sparking through my veins.

What was he thinking right now?

Normally, Edward didn't face me properly when he spoke to "Jasper." He seemed to look away, usually off to the right.

But now, he looked straight into my eyes with a mysterious determination.

"Why are you late?" he asked softly but with enough authority to make me pay proper attention.

Of course, I'd thought up a brilliant excuse on my way here.

"My sister," I croaked out. "She's visiting, and I couldn't find her."

To his credit, Cullen looked slightly ashamed, only enough so that I could see it for a second.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, turns out she fell asleep in Alice's room."

He nodded, looking away now. "Yeah, well, do thirty laps in the tenth lane as penance then join practice." His voice grew slightly sterner when he said, "Don't let this happen again. Your sister can take care of herself."

He swam away and the circle broke off to give him space. I was left staring at the team, who stared right back, mouths agape at the divine intervention that must have occurred to leave me in one peace.

Coach looked shocked too, but he clapped Edward on the back when he got in the pool himself.

Unwilling to push my luck, I headed off to start my punishment—my extremely lenient punishment—with a secret smile in my heart.

As I swam, I suddenly realized I was no longer in the water. I was on Emmett's back.

He was enormous. Abnormally large for a swimmer, in my opinion, but abnormally fast too. His muscles helped more than they hurt. I was glad because I loved this man and his antics both in and out of the water.

When Emmett and I met, he was completely naked and wearing devil horns in the locker room. I tried not to look. But with his childish dimples and expressive brown eyes, he was ridiculously handsome. And hung.

He was also grasping a red pitchfork in his right fist.

Emmett poked my arm by way of introduction.

"So you're the silver bullet from tryouts," he smirked. "Guess I gotta watch it, huh? You were only a couple tenths of a second behind me in the breaststroke, not to mention you blew everyone out of the water with the free."

I smiled, glad to have made a friend—until he slammed me up against my locker.

When Emmett smirked, I wondered why I ever thought his dimples were childish.

"Little piranha," he said softly, "you're swimming with sharks here, and it'll take a lot of bitching to survive in this tank. Think this little body has what it takes?"

Mutely, I nodded.

And was surprised once again.

"There's something wrong with you," he said, poking me at close range in various places: legs, toes, stomach, and shoulder. "I can't place it . . ."

I struggled for composure until he said, "But I like it."

We laughed a bit after that, and I even teased him about the picture of a buxom blonde dynamo he'd taped to the outside of his locker. She was half-naked and had one finger crooked as if to say, "Come hither, men. I know what you want, and I just may give it to you. At a price."

Emmett shoved his pitchfork in my mouth for asking if she was a prostitute.

What I did not realize was that he jokingly poked me in the crotch while I was later busy staring at Edward.

And I didn't make a sound.

Now, he turned his head to talk to me as he sliced our way through the water.

"So Silver Bullet, why were you really late?" Emmett asked.

I bit his neck, but he just laughed. "If you must know, I was busy fucking my girlfriend, E."

He laughed harder.

"What," I asked, "has it been that long since you got some?"

"If you must know, Rosalie had some nice things to say to my balls last night."

I smacked him across the head, but he didn't flinch, just continued swimming like the Olympic champion everyone knew he'd be.

"Emmett!" Coach Drake called. "Where the hell are you going now?"

Emmett slid me off his back in the ninth lane and bumped my shoulder with his fist. "Enjoy your workout. Find me afterward. I have news about a fuckawesome party I'm planning."

He rejoined the team, and I began my laps. Shutting out the world, I just set off with freestyle.

The water hugged me in its centuries-old way, enveloping my form and lifting me like an old friend.

Stroke, kick, breathe, stroke, kick, breathe. I could never tire of this perfect routine.

Punishment never felt so good, in fact.

As I approached the touchpad for the final time, I stretched my fingertips and came to a stop. I remained underwater for a moment, savoring the silence. My heart was at peace here. Everything was still and sweet and perfect. I almost hated my need for oxygen.

When I came up for air, Coach Drake had his face pressed up against mine from his seat at the pool's edge.

I could see drops of water falling from his wet hair.

He smirked slightly. "Set another record, did you?"

I gulped. "Uh-?"

"Get out and join the team. I'll put up your time with the rest of the informal records on our scoreboard."

As he walked off, I noticed he was smiling.

I smiled too.

Practice was murder that afternoon. Edward was like a slave driver, but at least he practiced alongside us. If we did pushups, he did ten extra. If we practiced the IM, he was part of each rotation while the rest looked on.

"You don't need to come up for air so much, Richardson!" he called. "And Jack, stop messing around with your brother. I don't need red dye in the pool! Ten laps and fifty pushups—right now! Smiling? Well, you too Kevin."

"I'm not Kevin!" Kevin said.

"Yeah, I'm Kevin," his twin claimed.

Edward pulled them by their ears and dunked their heads for a full minute. When he allowed them some air, he asked, "You guys forget you each have a distinguishing pattern of freckles on your ugly foreheads?"

I guffawed with everyone else.

"You memorized my freckles?" Kevin asked, his mouth half open.

Edward leaned in towards him. "I even fucking memorized your file in the principal's office. It's ten times as thick as everyone else's—except your twin's. Sorry to say he's got ten pages on you."

At that, Jack looked way too proud for his own good.

As the twins suffered their punishment, we continued the last half of practice on the track outside.

Drake took the reins from Edward and set us off on a 3k run.

Everyone was slightly lagging behind, but Damien Hale was running alongside me and Edward was a few feet ahead.

I had to admit that Damien was the hottest thing on the track beside Edward. With hair as black as night, eyes as blue as the sky above us, and a body designed for sin, he was physically amazing. And according to the locker room chat, he was also Edward's best friend. Simply remembering that he'd come in second during tryouts ensured my respect for him.

He turned to me now and tweaked my nose while jogging. "So Bumblebee, want to make this a race?"

I smirked as I blushed. "You're on, Big Dipper."

Damien instantly sped off, his powerfully long legs stretching as he sprinted. I kept pace with him for the first few meters, then I grabbed his shirt from behind and pulled.

"Cheater!" he called, half-laughing.

"You have no idea!" I called back.

We tied in the end, but it felt like we both lost because Edward informally entered the race and practically beat us black and blue with his inhuman speed.

Damn, I can't even hate him for it. He looks so happy when he runs.

Night had fallen when Edward called practice to an end, and we headed to the lockers feeling like we always did after our workouts—exhausted in the best way possible.

The twins were loitering outside, and Edward sighed in frustration as he turned around to chastise them once more. I didn't think he would put up with their shit if they hadn't come in fourth and fifth at tryouts. Not to mention, they loved pranking the other teams.

They had pledged during our first team practice to steal at least thirteen school mascots before the end of the season. They said thirteen is their favorite number.

Edward smiled and offered them a hundred bucks if they could double that.

I hoped it was a sign that he had a sense of humor.

"Bumblebee! Get the fuck over here and help me," Damien was calling.

I rushed over to his locker and said, "Eh? Need help finding the toilets again?"

"Very funny," he answered. "I'm wearing my jammers underneath my running clothes. Help me get them off. They're spitefully tight. Pull the legs."

He lifted a foot, and I stared at it for a second in panic. "Yeah, that's—."

"Swan's helping me clean out my locker today," Emmett said from the other side of the room. "I have condoms that need sorting."

"Uh, yeah. That's right," I said in disgusted relief.

Damien rightfully looked at me like I was insane. "You'd rather help that beast clean his locker? Haven't you caught a whiff of the stench emanating from its depths?"

I chuckled nervously. "Exactly. He's in desperate need of help." I waved. "Okay, bye."

I rushed to Emmett.

He was leaning against a locker with one foot on a bench.

"You're about to enter the ArmPit," he announced. "Please hold on to your seats and do not exit until the safety light flashes."

Ew. Was this really worth not helping Damien? I mean, everyone walks naked around here anyway . . . and they're all so hot . . .so, so hot . . . Yeah, but it's not like you should look below the belt, Bella!

I tried telling myself I made the right choice and braced myself as Emmett opened his locker.

Then I died.

I looked up to see a myriad of faces staring down at me. They spun in dizzying circles.

"What was it like?" someone asked.

"Yeah! Speak to us," another voice demanded.

I realized I was on the floor and groaned.

"Jasper, what were you thinking?" Edward's voice cut through the din. "I warned you about the ArmPit."

"I—I—gah," I mumbled.

Someone slapped me. "Fuck!" I shouted, leaning up. "What the hell was that for?"

"Come again, Swan?"

Coach Drake was staring at me. Again. He shook his head like I was an idiot.

Sadly, I agreed with him. "Sorry, Coach."

Kevin grabbed me by the shoulder. "Jasper! What was it like? Fucking tell me! I need to know."

My head lolled pitifully on my shoulders. I could feel myself going under again. "Such things—should—they should never—no, no, no!"

"Shut UP, KEVIN."

Edward was taking charge again. That hottie. Yum, yum, yumminess.

"What's he calling yummy?" Damien asked from somewhere.

Hehe. Damien is a cutie patootie. Like a bunny. Squishy Mushy Hale. Moohoo.

"Is it just me, or has he lost it?"

Someone slapped a hand over my mouth. I think it was Emmett. The hand smelled like lilacs. Disturbing much? Yes, but sweet. Yum.

Emmett continued, "Everyone, go away. I clearly underestimated the power of my man cave, but Jasper's just dazed. Walk away, that's it. Just walk away."

I felt like I was being lifted and carried for a while. Then I was flying in the air.

Fucking Emmett just threw me in the pool.

"How are you feeling, Swan?" Edward asked, glancing up from his textbook that night.

He smiled slightly when I groaned from atop my bed.

"Serves you right for even contemplating such a thing," he said. "Emmett's locker? You might as well have jumped off a cliff."

"I get that now," I snapped. "Can you shut up? I'm recuperating here."

I moaned in agony for effect.

Silence.

Then: "You kind of sound like your sister."

Well, that shut me up.

I sat next to Edward during first period the next day. He was wearing an embroidered green sweater over his uniform, and the color emphasized his eyes so well, I was momentarily distracted as I stepped into the classroom.

He was engaged in a friendly but heated debate with Dr. Willsworth about Shakespeare's intent behind the controversial character of the Jewish moneylender in The Merchant of Venice, so as he gestured emphatically with his hands, my thoughts grew dirty all over again.

I love his hands.

The previous night was excruciating. Sleeping in the same room as Edward Cullen without the ability to touch him hurt physically. Everything inside me felt knotted up and tense.

After all, I could vividly recall his breath on my skin and his lips at my ear.

And nothing could compare to his lips even lower. Way, way lower.

Passion was new to me, but I thrilled to it, fully dragged along with the promise of forever—the forever of feelings that I would remember always.

When I took a seat by Edward in class, I grew secretly giddy that a corner of his mouth lifted in a half- smile instead of turning down into a scowl.

Dr. Willsworth currently had us paired up to analyze a few of Shakespeare's sonnets. She let every other person in the room have his choice of partner out of the other half of students. I was a lucky one as part of the former half, and clearly, I chose Edward.

Now, I flipped through the thick book before me in search of the perfect sonnet for the assignment.

But Edward had other things on his mind.

"So, do you have any brothers or sisters besides your twin?" he asked me, ignoring his own book for the moment.

I knew he knew the answer to his question, but I played along, wondering why he'd started the small talk for once instead of brooding quietly.

"No, it's just us," I answered.

"Like Alice and I."

"Yeah," I said, grinning.

"Are you two pretty close?"

I leaned in. "I think so."

"How close?"

"Very. It's tough attending different schools, especially since this is a boarding school, but we've really needed to be there for each other ever since we were born. It's a twin thing. So we make the distance work."

Edward seemed contemplative, and his eyes darted around the room for a bit. His hair stuck up rebelliously, and he ran a hand through it, making it worse and better at the same time.

"I love Alice," he finally said. "But she'd much rather spend time with you."

I cocked my head in question, wondering why he never seemed to want to spend time with Alice. I never saw them doing anything together, and come to think of it again, Alice had never even mentioned him to me for years. There was a degree of love in Edward's eyes when he referred to her in conversations, but it was tempered by sadness. I didn't know what to make of them now. Why was he ignoring her?

But Edward didn't continue that train of thought, veering off elsewhere instead.

"Did you know," he said, "that I met Isabella when we were little?"

"No, I didn't. What was she like?"

Edward leaned his head on his arms. "She had a pink button for a nose and banana peels for feet. And she smiled a lot. And I mean a lot. Her face lit up everyone's day. Without fail."

He paused and seemed to make up his mind about something. He lifted his head to say, "Listen, man. I like her. Very, very much and I need to see her again. Can I have her number? Or an email address or something?"

Something akin to colossal joy erupted in my chest like a rapidly growing blossom.

"Why didn't you just ask Alice?" I wondered.

"I did," he said sheepishly. "She refused to give it to me. She said I should ask Isabella for it, but how am I supposed to do that if I can't contact her in the first place?"

Clever pixy. That was oddly sweet of her.

"Well," I said, drawing out the word, "I could give you an email address. But you'd have to work for it."

Edward didn't even look surprised. "What is it you want?"

"Let me think," I said, tapping a finger against my chin.

But I didn't have time to finish the thought because a bloodcurdling scream filled the room. I looked around in a panic, wondering what was going on because everybody looked fine, albeit surprised just like me.

Then I noticed little Bree Hayley in the back of the room with a stapler in one hand and her thumb in front of her eyes like it was the most frightening thing she'd ever had the misfortune to see.

She was screaming like the world had just caught fire.

I realized her finger was bleeding pretty badly and that in everyone's shock, no one was trying to do a thing about it.

Bursting from my seat, I was at her side in seconds.

"Bree? Bree, look at me. It's just a bit of blood. You're alright," I soothed. "Look into my eyes and take a deep breath."

She whimpered slightly then continued screaming. I could see her eyes begin to lose focus and roll back, so I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to unlock her gaze and direct it at me.

"Hush. Shhhh. It's alright." I pulled her into a hug, and her screams lessened in volume. After a minute they died down. Soon, she was hiccupping with her head on my shoulder.

I pulled her gently to the side in my arms to wipe her finger with a napkin as discretely as I could.

When I looked at her again, I noticed she was unconscious. Craaaaaaaaaaap.

"Breee?" I nudged her while I spoke. "Bree?"

Visibly shaken, Dr. Willsworth finally pulled it together and approached us. "Jasper, thank you so much for calming her. She needs to see the nurse."

Thank you for that brilliant analysis, Only Adult in the Room.

She faced the class and said, "I need someone to carry Bree upstairs to the nurse's office. Any two men willing to lend a hand?"

No one moved until Edward stood up, his hair in his face as he scowled at the unresponsive classroom. He walked up to me and took Bree gently into his arms, lifting her with infinite care, like one would handle a porcelain doll. She looked so tiny against him.

He made my heart melt all over again with his genuine concern.

"Thank you, Edward," Dr. Willsworth said, nodding approvingly. "Go with him, Jasper, and see to it that Bree remains calm if she wakes on the way."

We headed off towards the elevators silently.

When we entered the elevator, I pressed the button for the fourth floor and peered at Edward. He was carefully rearranging Bree in his arms.

"IsabellaS21," I said. "That's the gmail address. She checks it constantly."

"Got it. Thank you," Edward whispered as we stepped out onto the fourth floor and made a right.

The marble flooring changed patterns here. It went from solid grey to crisscrossing black and blue, the school colors. This was the location of many administrative offices and faculty rooms. I waved when I noticed Esme walking down the hall. She smiled in response, looking distracted although her stunning face glowed as she passed us.

We left Bree with the nurse, who ushered us out the moment we placed the still unconscious girl on a cot.

"This isn't my first encounter with Bree," Nurse Evans said stiffly as we were practically booted from the place.

"She seems nice," I said to Edward when the door shut soundly in our faces.

He scoffed. "Well, let's hope she doesn't murder anyone in her quest to heal the world." Sighing, he turned slightly towards me. "Do you mind if we stop by the principal's office on the way back? My dad promised he'd lend me some SAT prep books from his bookshelf."

"Sure," I replied, happy for more time with Edward. "How's Principal Cullen these days?"

"Fine. Same as usual I guess," Edward muttered as we approached the only office with a gold door, bearing a placard engraved with the words 'Principal Carlisle Cullen.'

When no one answered Edward's knock, he fished a key from his pocket and let us in, locking the door behind him.

The office was spacious and supremely elegant, reminding me of the Oval Office for some reason. Cherry wood furniture adorned the room, and gold framed paintings hung on the rich burgundy walls. Two plush armchairs faced a fireplace, a large desk sat by the window, and a single shelf of books lined the walls in a quaint but modern way. I decided I liked the principal's taste.

"The books we're looking for should be in that closet," Edward said, pointing to a door to the right, which I hadn't noticed before.

We stepped inside the closet, which was large enough to be its own room, and searched the large bookshelf against one wall for any preparatory texts the principal had in stock.

As I was reaching for one, Edward silently grabbed me from behind and slapped a hand over my mouth.

I froze in fear and confusion before he whispered in my ear, "Shhh. Listen."

Not loosening his grip on me, he inched us closer to the slightly open closet door.

I strained my ears and my eyes opened wide when I realized what I was hearing. Some time while we were in here, Principal Cullen returned, and judging by the panting and moaning emanating from his office, he was not alone.

I peeped through the crack to see my principal in an armchair, pants at his knees and his hands fisted in thick, caramel-colored hair situated between his legs.

Wait a fucking minute. I know that hair.

"God, yes, Esme," he was panting. "Suck harder, love."

Holy fucking *8*8s**moo****! What is it with Cullens and blowjobs in academic settings?

I heard Edward gagging behind me. He'd let me go and sequestered himself in a corner with his hands over his ears.

Karma was a delightful bitch.

I looked back to see Esme in Carlisle's lap. Her ruined top was on the ground, buttons everywhere. She was grinding against him as he palmed her ass and snuck his hand into her skirt from behind.

"Get up, Esme," he growled.

She whimpered as he lifted her and placed her, stomach-down, on a brown leather couch. He promptly got on top of her and pulled down her skirt.

"You were ordered to the principal's office for bad behavior. So, what do you have to say for yourself, Esme?"

He pulled her ass up into the air and drew in a ragged breath.

"Nothing. I'm not sorry," she whispered, clearly baiting him and every bit as turned on as he was. I couldn't stop myself from watching.

I wanted to close my eyes. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. This was better than any movie I'd ever seen. It had amazing elements of adult horror, inappropriateness, and lust.

"Not sorry? You're not sorry?" Carlisle was saying. His voice rose with every word.

Edward sucked in a breath, probably in abject fear.

"I explicitly forbid you from wearing form-fitting clothing, and you show up in this? Are you mad or fucking suicidal?"

She didn't answer. I'd guess it was because he'd thrust his cock into her from behind, but I couldn't watch anymore to confirm. A virgin had her limits after all.

But the sounds continued.

"Dammit to hell, Carlisle! Can't you go any faster?"

"You're too tight. So wet but so freaking tight!"

"I wouldn't be so tight if you fucked me more often, you uptight academic," she snapped right before moaning so loudly I think Edward's head exploded.

"I'm your employer!" Carlisle admonished as if he weren't inside her, pumping her brains out with his cock right then.

"Well, you can employ my body too, you know!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck . . ." Carlisle chanted.

"Damn, that's the spot," Esme breathed.

They didn't say anymore for a few long minutes as I huddled next to Edward. He stared at me in horror when the noises grew to a climax, but my school principal and favorite teacher thankfully muffled their final screams against something. Probably each other.

It was quiet for a bit afterward—except for the post-coital huffing and moaning.

Edward and I were understandably afraid to breathe. We heard some scrambling as the two lovers ultimately donned their clothes.

"If you wear anything like that again, Esme," Carlisle finally said, "I will not only have your job, but I will tear you and your garments to shreds."

"Okay, sir. It won't happen again," she promised.

But even I could tell that it sure as hell would.

When they had definitely left, Edward and I breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.

"That literal fucker," Edward cursed, his hands tearing at his hair. "How many times has he chastised me for screwing at school?"

"How many times is that exactly?" I asked.

"Shut up, Swan," he bit back, abruptly turning his glare on me. "You will not speak a word to anyone of what you witnessed here today. You understand me?"

He advanced until I was backed up against a wall. It felt rather arousing actually.

"I don't want to hurt your dad," I said honestly. "I respect him."

"This isn't about ruining his reputation," Edward said. "It's Esme who'd be hurt if this got out. She's like a mother to me. Get that?"

I nodded frantically.

"And my dad doesn't need to know I know either."

"Would that really be so bad?" I asked.

He paused before answering.

"No, but this information could prove useful for me in the future."

Well, fuck me. Edward Cullen is a badass after all.

A/N: Things can get pretty naughty at Coldridge, huh?

If you want Carlisle or Edward to come to you at night to tear your clothes off and send you into a coma-inducing, orgasmic state of bliss, I would press the review button.

Just saying.

And I'll send you a teaser as soon as I'm halfway through the next chapter.

It's good to be back, lovely readers. ;)