Chapter 13

Songs:

Church, Fallout Boy
Lovesong, Adele
Slip Kid, Anvil
Hear Me Now, Bad Wolves
Carry You, Ruelle
Sanctuary, The Nashville Cast

*Link to YouTube playlist can be found in chapter one.

March 2012 through June 2012

Masen

It's been a month since I first kissed Bella, and other than snuggling closer on the couch while we watch a movie and kissing her goodnight, not much has changed. Not that I expected us to go straight from our first kiss on my birthday to fucking, but I feel like we're in a weird in-between stage of our relationship.

I'm treading carefully, trying not to rush her. After what my brother pulled on her, I know she's a little skittish.

And it's been hard to give her space. Like this morning, she's walking around the apartment in her skimpy pjs. The morning sun is shining through her top, and I can see the outline of her tits. I've got the urge to walk up behind her and grope her and grind my dick against her ass.

I'm not sure if she'd appreciate it or knee me in the balls.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" she asks, snapping me out of my trance.

My reply is automatic. "About how beautiful you are."

Her mouth falls open in an adorable little O, and her cheeks turn pink. I'm pretty sure I've rendered her speechless.

Taking advantage of her momentary muteness, I rise from my bed on the couch. I slide an arm around her waist, drawing her close and brushing my nose against hers. "You just looked so pretty there, standing in the sunlight."

Her gaze falls to my bare chest before moving to my lips. She licks her own, and that simple act alone has my heart racing. Slowly, so I don't spook her, I close the distance, bringing my mouth to hers. My eyes fall closed and her body relaxes, and it takes all of my self-control not to lift her onto the table and do dirty, dirty things to her.

Her arms wrap around my neck, and her hands move to my hair as my tongue invades her mouth. She tastes like the cinnamon roll she had for breakfast and she smells just as sweet. As her touch warms my skin, all my blood rushes south and my thoughts go fuzzy. My senses are overwhelmed with her. When she presses her chest against mine, like she wants to get closer to me, I take it as a sign that she wants more, and I'm happy to oblige.

I wrap my other arm around her waist and pick her up. Her legs automatically go around me as I lower us to the couch. And when I settle between her thighs, tentatively rubbing myself against her, she makes a sound that's a cross between a sigh and a moan. But I know she's digging it.

I smile against her lips. "You like that?"

"Yeah," she breathes as she leans up to kiss me more forcefully. Her warm, thinly-covered pussy rocks against my boxer-clad, hard-as-steel cock, and I return the favor, grinding against her like I've wanted to for days ... even with a few layers of cotton between us.

Gasping, she tosses her head back, allowing me easy access to her neck. I kiss, nip, and lick the skin there, whispering into her ear how good she feels against me. I snake a hand up her thin tank and circle a nipple with my middle finger, loving how her body is responding to my touch.

"You feel so good, baby. I can't wait 'til I get inside you, Bella."

I purposely thrust my hips, grinding against her and gently tugging at the pebbled flesh between my fingers. Her gasps quickly turn to moans, and it's the sexiest damn sound I've ever heard. So sexy, in fact, that combined with the feel of her skin under my palms, the taste of her in my mouth, it's enough to make my stomach tense and my balls tighten. My orgasm rushes through me, and as I shudder and groan into her neck, I can hear her gasp out my name as she comes.

We lie like that for a while, my face still pressed into her neck, spent and panting. Both of us are afraid to speak, it would seem. I test the waters and kiss the soft skin beneath my lips, and she doesn't push me away. Unable to wait any longer to see her reaction, I pull back. What I see makes me grin.

"You good?" I ask her, brushing the hair away from her eyes.

"I am," she whispers, a sated smile on her face. "More than good."

"Good." I pull away from her and look down. "Guess I need to hop in the shower."

"I'd say so." She giggles, and it makes me breathe a sigh of relief. She's not freaking out.

I climb off the couch, holding out a hand to help her up. Once she's upright, I tug her close enough to kiss her before heading to the bathroom.

"Hey," she calls out.

I stop and turn. "Yeah?"

She walks my way and places her palms flat on my chest before drawing them into limp fists, gently pounding them on my stomach. "I'm sorry for being so ... reluctant," she says softly, finally looking up at me.

I shake my head. "Don't apologize. We'll take this at your pace, okay? You're running the show."

She nods once, pecking me on the lips. "Thank you."

Six weeks later, I'm still sleeping on the couch. For whatever reason, she's not ready to jump into bed, and it's cool, even if I've got a major case of blue balls. Our heated make out sessions aren't helping matters.

Every time we get going on the couch, more and more clothes come off. She's jacked me off and I've gotten knuckle-deep in her pussy, but that's as far as we've gone. I'd give just about anything to get more than my fingers inside her.

But I'm trying to be patient. The last thing I want to do is rush her into doing something she'll regret. She's also worried that our relationship will somehow cause trouble between Edward and me.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Mase," she says when I ask her to hang out at the clubhouse one Friday after work for Mac's birthday party.

"Why not? We go, eat, maybe have a few drinks, and get outta there. It would be good if I show my face, and ... and I'd like to have you with me."

"I ... I'm not sure my presence would be very welcome. And I don't want to come between you and your brother."

"You won't. Listen,"—I grab her arm and tug her into my arms—"he told you to move on, right?"

She nods, staring at my chest.

"He doesn't get to tell you what that looks like." I tilt her chin up to look into her eyes. "Our relationship has no bearing on the one I have my with my brother. If he has a problem with it, it's his problem."

"Yeah, but—"

"But nothing. It's his problem, all right?"

She nods but doesn't reply. She also doesn't show that night.

"You want the day off ... in the middle of the week?" Esme looks up at me with an expression that can only be described as irritated.

"Yeah, I do. I have all my vacation time for the year still, right? I want to take a day. It's already the end of April and I haven't taken a day off yet this year."

She sighs as she shuffles through papers on her desk. "Fine. But if we're behind because we're short-handed, you'll have to come in this weekend and help us catch up. That's the best I can do."

I smile my "eat shit and die" smile at her. "Sure, Esme. Whatever you need." I slap the doorframe and walk out of her office. Outside, I grab my phone and dial with my thumb as I reach for my pack of smokes with my other hand.

"Hello?" Bella answers.

"Hey. Don't make any plans for Wednesday."

"Why not? I need to go grocery shopping that day, Mase. It's my day off, and I need to—"

"We're taking a trip that day."

That gives her pause. I can almost hear the gears turning in her head. "Oh really? What kind of trip?"

I smile, bringing my smoke to my lips and mumbling around it. "The secret kind. Just pack a backpack for the day. We'll leave after breakfast and probably won't be back until late."

"Yeah, okay. But don't be pissed when we're eating dry cereal for dinner on Thursday."

What she doesn't know is I plan to go to the store Tuesday after work. There's shit I need to buy for our outing anyway. "You worry too much, Swan."

Grocery shopping is probably my least favorite task after laundry, and I've been more than thankful Bella's taken over the job since she moved in. We have a running list on the refrigerator, so I know what to get. But the process of actually doing it is exhausting. While I'm in the health and beauty section grabbing a stick of deodorant, I happen to spot the shelves of family planning products.

In a rash decision, I grab a fresh box of condoms. Things may be moving at a snail's pace with Bella, but it can't hurt to be prepared.

Putting together the picnic for us is more complicated than I first thought, and doing it silently while Bella sleeps mere feet away adds another layer of difficulty I hadn't considered. But I manage to get it all packed up before she emerges from behind the room divider.

"Good morning, sleepy head," I say as I zip the small, soft-sided cooler closed.

"Morning," she says through a yawn. "What are you doing up so early?" She goes straight for the coffee pot.

"You forget we're spending the day together?" I tuck the cooler bag down inside the oversized backpack and fold the flap over, buckling it closed.

"That's today?"

I look over my shoulder and grin. She's sitting at the table, her hair a fucking disaster and her oversized t-shirt hanging off one shoulder as she stares off into space. "Yeah." I step over to her and kiss her forehead. "So wake up, get something to eat, and get dressed. We'll leave when you're ready."

When we get to Ramsey Canyon, Bella is quiet. I'd briefly considered not coming here—it's where I brought her that day to tell her Seth had been born—but it's a beautiful place, and I don't want her to avoid it because of one bad memory.

I'm hoping that today will overshadow it.

We hike a new trail, and with every step, Bella's mood seems to brighten. She's smiling and laughing, pointing out birds and small animals that cross our path, and I'm feeling more confident this was just what we needed—a chance to get away alone for a while.

"How's this look?" I ask when we reach a shaded, fairly level spot.

"Looks good to me." She looks up at the blooming Palo Verde tree. "This is so pretty." She closes her eyes and takes in a breath, and a smile lights her beautiful face.

"Yeah, it is," I say softly.

She opens her eyes and looks my way. When her cheeks redden, I wonder what she's thinking. But before I can ask her, she clears her throat. "So, what did you make us? I'm starved."

I spread out the blanket I brought and we sit. I pull out all the containers and water bottles, and we eat until we're so full we have to lie back on the blanket.

She's lying on her back, her eyes closed. I'm beside her, hovering over her with my head in my hand and staring down at her, wondering how the hell I got so lucky to have her in my life.

"You know, you're the prettiest girl in this shit town."

Her eyes stay closed, but she's smiling, perfectly at ease here with me.

"Is that so?" The sun is shining through the yellow petals of the tree, making it feel like we're inside a sun-filled bubble. Her lashes flutter open, and the irises of her eyes light up when the filtered sunlight hits them.

"Without a doubt."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No, I don't. I only say that to my girl. I want to take you out for a ride tonight." I waggle my brows and her grin widens.

"A ride, huh?"

"Yes. I think I'm the luckiest guy in town to have you on the back of my bike."

She pushes up on her elbows, and her face is a breath away from mine. "I think I'm the lucky one," she whispers. She leans closer and I dip my head lower, and I'm suddenly overcome with the need to tell her what I've been feeling for months ... even if I haven't said the words to anyone since I was a little boy.

"I love you, Bella Swan," I murmur just before my lips meet hers. She kisses me back, but it's not like the other heated kisses we've shared. I start to think she might not feel the same way, so I pull back. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, and panic rushes through me. I'm worried I've fucked this all up by opening my big mouth.

"You don't—"

"Just give me a second," she begs.

I wait, but as every agonizing second passes, I get more worried.

"You love me?" Her words are whispered, unsure, and the light I saw in her eyes only moments before seems to have dimmed.

"Yeah ... I do." I try to brush it off, like my admission isn't a huge fucking deal. Meanwhile, my heart is pounding in my chest, and it only thuds harder the longer she's silent. When I can't stand it any longer, I whisper, "Say something."

"I ... I love you, too, Masen. I didn't think I could after everything else, but ... I do."

"Yeah?"

She nods and inches closer. "Yeah." Her lips claim mine this time, and as we lie there in the shade of the blooming Palo Verde tree, I know this is a moment I'll always remember.

E asks me to stop by his kid's first birthday party in May, and after the way Bella acted about Mac's, I don't even bother asking her to come with me. Besides, my brother doesn't know she's living with me, let alone that she's my girlfriend. Maybe a baby's birthday party isn't the right time and place for him to find out.

But I go, and it's awkward as fuck. Alice is hyper focused on the kid, going on and on about it being the perfect day. She's acting like it's her kid. Poor Angela is almost pushed out of the way a few times. Esme doesn't bother to acknowledge my presence, which is nothing new, but even Pop is distracted with the kid, fawning over him and acting like the world's best grandpa. I'm not sure how much of it is genuine and how much of it is posturing. Like he's trying to outdo Mr. Weber. And my brother ... he wears a smile all day for his kid. Fatherhood seems to suit him.

But the entire thing, the way they're all acting, like I'm on the periphery looking in, reminds me how much of an outsider I am, even at what's supposed to be a family party.

A month later, Bella is working the closing shift at the Big Dipper, so I'm hanging out after work at the clubhouse. I'm watching a few of the house mice play a game of pool, sipping on a beer left over from E's twenty-first birthday bash as I wait on him and the other fuckers to come out of the chapel. It's a given he'll walk out of there with a slickback.

My turn will come in February, after my twenty-first.

When the doors burst open, everyone files out with big smiles on their faces. Pop orders the music to be turned on, and with a snap of his fingers, the mice make their rounds. Drinks are poured, laps are filled, and it's an instant party.

My brother plops down beside me with a wide smile on his face.

"How's it feel?" I ask him.

"Feels good. Feels like a long time coming, too. It's something other than grease and shitty diapers." He barks out a laugh, obviously happy about prospecting for the club.

"You know you're their bitch for the next however long they make you wait to patch in, don't you?" I remind him.

He grins my way. "Like you can't wait to do it."

Tank's beefy hands land on E's shoulders. "Not so fast, kid. From what your Pop says, he's not so sure Mase has what it takes to patch in." He looks Pop's way. "And a lot can happen in seven months, right, Carl?"

Edward chuckles, but there's nothing funny about it. I whip my head around to stare up at our father.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Pop?" my brother asks since I'm trying my best not to stand up and punch the bastard's teeth in.

Pop shrugs a shoulder. "I just think he needs a little toughening up. Not everyone is cut out to wear the colors."

I scoff and shake my head, laughing like a crazy motherfucker as I stand from the sofa. "Whatever, old man. I'm outta here."

I push my way past the guys, through the door and outside to my bike. It'll be another hour before Bella gets off work, so in the meantime, I take a ride to clear my head. The farther I get from town, the faster I go, and the faster I go, the more pissed I get.

In my twenty plus years on this earth, Pop has done as little as was fucking possible where I'm concerned. The child support he sent was barely enough to cover the basics, and my mother and Gran always struggled making ends meet raising me. It only got worse after mom died. Growing up was shit, and I was always made to feel like I should be thankful for what little he did manage to do for me.

I've never asked much of Pop. I know I'm the black sheep simply because of who my mother was, but I've never wanted to do anything more than just ... belong. I see how Pop treats E and Ali, and it's not just the material shit, either. He's always gone above and beyond to be there for them.

He managed to make it to all of Alice's school plays. He was there for E when he fell off the play equipment at school and needed stitches or when he was sick. But Pop had other, more important things to handle the day I had my tonsils out, all the times I was sick and Gran was the one who had to skip out on work and take care of me. Something a lot of kids take for granted in their lives—their parent being present, in my case, my only parent—has always been missing from mine.

Things between us were better for a while. During my senior year, Bella encouraged me to reach out, to make more of an effort with Pop, and I did. We seemed to get along okay, to bond, I guess, but it's gone back to business as usual since I started working at the shop.

And now that I know how he feels about me prospecting for the club ... I shake my head, trying to rid it of all the negative thoughts, but it's hard.

"I'm not sure Mase has what it takes. He needs a little toughening up." Pop's words echo in my brain, and I grit my teeth, heading for Jack's Roadside Tavern. Depending on who's behind the bar, it's a crapshoot if they'll serve me, but I'm willing to make the trip to find out.

Going home to drown my frustrations isn't an option. Bella's seen me drink, but it's always been for a good time. She hasn't seen me drink when I'm pissed, and I'm not sure I should spring it on her just yet.

It's late evening, and the lot is mostly full, so I park my bike under a lamppost and head inside. Music is playing, people are gathered around the pool table in the corner, and a few others are shooting darts—all the regular shit you'd find in a dive bar like this.

Peter is working behind the bar, which is a welcome sight. He didn't card me when I stopped in here with the guys a few months back, so I'm hoping he'll overlook my being a handful of months away from twenty-one. I'm wound tight, and I know I need to get my emotions under control before I go off on someone. A drink or two should help me do that. And I definitely want to work out my shitty mood before I go home.

Peter places my glass on the bar top and raises a brow. I murmur a thanks. But before I can even pick up my beer, some asshole bumps into me from behind, causing the glass in my hand to spill down my front, soaking into my jeans and tee.

"Sorry, man," the guy mumbles. He's clearly well on his way to drunk, if he's not there already, and he just happened to bump into the wrong guy on the wrong day.

I'm off the barstool and in the guy's face in an instant. "Why don't you watch where you're going, motherfucker?" I yell as I take a swing at him.

I'm not proud of how quickly it escalates. My temper takes over and gets ahead of my brain, and I take out all my frustrations on this poor schmuck. My fists fly, and the asshole hardly fights back. It almost makes me angrier that he's just taking it.

A few other patrons pull me off him, and once the haze clears, I'm left panting, my knuckles bruised and bleeding. I shake off the assholes holding me back. "Fuck off. I'm fine."

"Get the fuck out of here, Cullen," Peter yells from behind the bar. "And you're covering that guy's tab."

"What the fuck, man? He ran into me and dumped a beer all over me!" I motion to my soaked front. "He—"

"I don't give a shit." He leans over the bar and lowers his voice. "He calls the cops and they find out you shouldn't be here ... You feel me? You can either pay for it and get the fuck home or ..."

I grit my teeth, fully aware of the consequences of good 'ol Chief Swan coming to arrest my ass. "Yeah, yeah. I get it." I pull my wallet from my pocket, tossing a few bills down on the bar. "Asshole started it, though," I mumble as I turn for the door.

The ride home is uncomfortable. Not only are my chest and crotch soaked, my knuckles are aching. My brilliant plan to blow off steam and get over shit has only managed to make me feel worse.

I walk into the dark apartment, and a freshly-showered Bella is sitting on the couch, my pillow gripped in her arms as she watches TV.

"Hey, you. I didn't know you had to work late."

I toss my keys on the table. "Didn't."

"Then where have you been?" She gets up and walks toward me.

When I open the refrigerator to look for a beer, the bulb inside lights up the kitchen, shining on my beer-stained clothes and marred knuckles.

"Mase! What happened?" She reaches for my hand and brings it to her lips. "What did you do?"

"Got into it with some guy down at Jack's."

She inspects the damage and glances up at me. "I wish you'd stay away from that place."

"It's the only place in town that won't card me." Not finding what I'm looking for inside, I close the fridge. I pull my hand from Bella and turn to lean against the counter. "I only wanted to get a drink and think. That's it."

"Why on earth did you ride all the way out to Jack's? You could have come home to have a beer. That's just ridicu—"

"I needed to go for a ride, okay?" I snap. "I had a lot on my mind and didn't want to bring that shit home to you."

Her eyes widen and she leans away from me. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now." I huff a breath, feeling all the frustration and anger build inside me again. "It's just some bullshit with Pop."

Bella studies me for a long moment, finally taking a step toward me and reaching out to finger the edge of my t-shirt. "What did he say?"

We've had this conversation before. So many times, I've come home and bitched about something Pop has said to piss me off, and she always manages to calm my ass down, make me see reason. But this time it wasn't a comment about my skill set at the shop or a wisecrack about my ride. No, this time he insinuated I don't have what it takes to join a club I've wanted to be a part of with my father and brother for as long as I can remember.

"He was just being an asshole," I rasp, my emotions bubbling to the surface. My vision clouds and I wipe at my eyes.

She steps closer, her palms splaying out across my chest. "Tell me," she whispers.

I cover her hands with mine, pressing them harder against my chest and willing the calm she always has to seep into me. I breathe deeply, trying to chase away the anger simmering just beneath my skin.

"He doesn't think I can handle patching in," I finally admit. "Said he thinks I'm too soft or some shit." I look down at my hands, seeing for myself that I can be just as tough as any other motherfucker in the Outcasts. "All my life I've looked up to him, and he's always doubted me, always thought less of me. It just gets old. I thought this was my one sure thing. One sure way to get close to Pop, to be on equal footing with my brother." I shake my head and look up, my teary eyes meeting hers.

I've never felt more vulnerable in my life.

"I just ... I just want to belong somewhere, ya know?"

A beat of silence passes between us, and I'm worried I look like a pussy for getting all emotional over Pop's bullshit. But something I'm not used to seeing —understanding—fills her eyes.

With a half smile, she cradles my face in her hands, bringing it close to hers. "You already belong somewhere, Mase."

"Yeah?" I whisper.

She nods, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to mine. "I think ... I think we both found where we belong," she says softly.

When our lips meet, it feels like I'm coming home, like this is where I'm supposed to be, and it just feels ... right. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in so tightly there's no space left between us. Our lips press harder together, like we're trying to consume each other, and the connection we've always had sparks again.

The heat pulsing between us is heavy, and I know this is different. If we take the next step, there's no going back ... for either of us.

Her hands slide down my chest, fisting my shirt, the fabric bunching as she pulls at me, fueling the want I've always had for her. The anger I've felt since storming out of the clubhouse is still there, but it jumps the tracks, building and turning into raw fucking need for the woman in my arms. My hands glide down her sides until I reach her ass and grab, lifting her into my arms. Our lips are still smashed together as I walk toward the sofa, but she pulls away, her breaths coming fast and hard.

"Bed," she says, her voice strained. Her hooded eyes lock on mine, both of us panting, our pulses racing, and I somehow manage not to drop to the floor and fuck her right there.

"Yeah?" I pant.

She nods, her lips crashing to mine once again as I guide us toward the bed. It's unmade, and the sheets and blankets surround us in a cloud of her scent as we fall into them. Desperate to feel her skin on mine, I tear myself away from her, yanking my shirt over my head. She reaches for my belt buckle, fumbling with it as I pull her shirt from her body, leaving her bare but for her panties.

She grips my shoulders, pulling me to her, and our tongues tangle once more. While I struggle to get out of my damp jeans and boxers, she helps push them down with her feet, grinding herself against me when my dick is finally free.

"I want you so bad, baby," I murmur against her lips. "You gonna let me?" My fingers wrap around the cotton at her hips, desperate to pull it off and bury myself inside her.

She nods, her lips never leaving mine as her fingers weave into my hair, twisting and pulling. The twin sensations—the twinge of pain and the heat of her body against mine—are driving me fucking crazy, and I'm dying to get inside her.

I rise to my knees, reaching for the drawer beside the bed where I stashed the new box of condoms. While I rip into the box, she shimmies out of the last scrap of fabric clinging to her body. I tear open the foil package with my teeth, spitting the edge of the wrapper onto the bed. I roll it on and get right back between her legs, one of which she hitches above my hip, opening herself up to me even more.

Our eyes lock as I push into her, and every screaming, frustrated part of me instantly quiets as I start to move inside her. No words are said, but we don't need any.

With her head thrown back, she gasps and moans as I push and pull, my face buried in the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

In this moment, there's no one else but the two of us. The feel of her skin on mine, the sound of her sighs are all that matter. There's no one saying I'm not enough, that I don't have what it takes. And as she gasps out my name as she comes, it makes my stomach tighten.

This is mine. She is mine.

And for the first time in forever, I truly feel like I belong right where I am.

A/N: So, how are we feeling? There was a lot in this chapter, I think, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Some of our amazing fandom writers have recently published books! Cecilia Rene, a.k.a. ceceprincess1217, has published The Bachelor Duke. If you loved the fic, you'll love the reworked published version. I was lucky enough to be on her prereading team, and I can tell you this, if you're a fan of historical romances, you don't want to miss this one. Kristina Sanchez, a.k.a. LyricalKris, has published Never Enough, and Faye Byrd, a.k.a. Fyrebyrd, has just published A Dirty Lion ... with two more in the series to follow. These are all available on Amazon now! Do yourself a favor and check them out!

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Be kind.
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Lots of love
~Sunshine