Chapter 10 – Inevitable

Things had somewhat gotten back to normal with Edward and me, but that ever present tension made our time together extremely difficult, so I found myself spending more time than usual at home with Charlie. My relationship with Edward was extremely important so I still went there every day, but whenever we weren't working on our project, I made it a point to be home early enough to eat dinner with my dad.

"Hey honey, I'm glad you're home; I ordered a pizza," Charlie said one evening as I walked through the door.

"Um…Great," I said as enthusiastically as possible. The truth was, pizza really wasn't my thing.

"So…how was your day?" he asked strangely.

"Dad, what's going on?" I asked knowing he was going to skip around whatever issue he was having.

He took a deep breath. "Have you been hanging out with Edward Masen?"

"Uh...yeah," I said reluctantly. "Why, is there a problem with that?"

Charlie brought his fist to his mouth, and then he turned and walked around himself before slamming his fist against the counter, making me jump. "Damn it, Bella, I don't want you anywhere near him!" he shouted at me.

I didn't even think Charlie knew who Edward was, but apparently he was recently informed. So I stood up straight and refused to let him treat me like a child. "Dad, I think I'm capable of deciding who I can and can't hang out with….He's my friend…"

"Bella, he's dangerous!"

"You've been talking to Jake, haven't you?" I asked sharply. I was so mad at Jake for bringing Charlie into it that I was literally seeing red. He had absolutely no right.

"Damn right I have, and I'm certainly not too happy with him right now either. Bella…It has to stop."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to stop seeing Edward, dad. You have no idea what it's like…"

"But I do," he cut me off. "I know exactly what it's like to be young and think you know somebody and think you can handle something, only to be utterly blinded by the painful reality of the situation. You're still hurting from the loss of your mom, and god knows I understand that, but getting involved with that Cullen isn't the answer. Go talk to Jake…. Work out your relationship issues, and try to get your life back on track. Your mom would have wanted that."

I nodded contemplatively. "It would be nice, wouldn't it? To go back to the way things were before, when we would all get together every Sunday for the big game, or hiking up to camp by the river…and spend all our holidays together like one big family…." Tears began streaming down my face; I ignored them. "But mom's the one who always made the snacks for the games, and packed the camping stuff, and made the turkey..." I wiped my face angrily now. "But she's not here anymore, and Billy is in a wheelchair! There is no getting our lives back on track. We'll never be the same again, and I certainly don't need that agonizing reminder for the rest of my life. So I'm going to continue to hang out with Edward, because it is the only thing that makes me feel like I'm not dead too."

Charlie stared at me for a moment, having no idea how to respond to that, and then he swallowed roughly. "Bella…I just can't lose you too."

"Then let me do what I need to do," I told him emotionally.

He couldn't look at me, but he did give off the slightest nod, and I was grateful. We both knew that I was eighteen and I could do as I pleased, but the last thing I wanted was my relationship with Edward to drive a wedge between me and my father. He was the only family I had left, but he had to realize that I wasn't a little girl anymore. It was time for me to grow up and make my own way, and that was exactly what I intended to do.

…

That weekend Edward and I were excited to finally give our skeleton statue it's clay cover. As Edward predicted, he was doing the sculpting, and I was pretty much just sitting there, annoying him with my opinions.

"The left side is bigger than the right," I told him as the clay began to take shape.

"The hips, or the boobs?" he asked irritated. We had decided to make our statue female, simply because Edward said he didn't feel like sculpting a dick. I told him we could put clothes on it, but he insisted that all true works of human art were naked. I wasn't exactly sure how Mrs. Geist would like it, but I figured I could always bring one of my old dresses to drape around it if necessary.

"The hips," I told him with a giggle. I swear, I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me. The more our project started to look 'human', the gigglier I got; you would have thought I was a twelve year old in my first Sex Ed class or something. Then again, perhaps the giggling was an unconscious way to alleviate that ever growing tension. "I guess the boobs are a little lopsided too," I added with more giggling.

He just rolled his eyes at me and tried to fix the problem. When he figured he was just about finished with the body, he took a step back to admire his work, and my giggling turned into full out, side splitting laughter.

"What? I think it looks good," he said exasperated.

"It looks like a headless My Size Barbie," I choked out.

"What's that?" he asked clueless.

"It's a…never mind. Edward, how many girls have you seen naked?" I asked him, trying to be serious.

"Plenty," he answered a little too quickly.

"Where? Late night Adult TV?" I teased him. "Very few real women have huge boobs, and no fat anywhere else. If we're showcasing the female body as art, we should do it a little more accurately."

"Pfft, the chicks I've been with looked just like this," he argued feebly. I raised a brow at him so he decided to come clean. "Alright, so I've only been with two different girls…and neither of them would get completely naked, but still….I know what a female body looks like."

"Yeah, I can tell with your spot on portrayal," I said sarcastically.

But then he smirked mischievously. "Well, if you want it to be realistic, why don't you take off all your clothes and model for me. I mean, real artist use real naked models all the time."

I knew he was only kidding, but a moment of bold stubbornness grabbed a hold of me and refused to let go. "Fine," I said, and then rushed over to make sure the garage door was locked before I began stripping.

"Uh…" Edward was more than a little speechless.

"I told you, an A in this is very important to me," I said to him as I pulled my shirt over my head. "Besides, the whole 'nude art thing' was my favorite part of Titanic, and I always wanted to do it."

"Uh…" Edward said again, but when I got down to nothing except my bra and underwear, all he could do was stare.

"Don't make this weird," I told him. "It's art."

"Uh…yeah, sure," he finally managed to force out.

I took a deep breath, and then reached behind my back to unhinge my bra…and without pausing, I threw it off and went right for my underwear. Thank god I shaved that morning.

At first I couldn't even look up. As I stood there naked in front of Edward Masen I was absolutely horrified with myself and wondered what the hell possessed me to do it, but when my eyes lifted and met his, I couldn't help but laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his face.

I had no idea how long he stared at me with his mouth agape, but finally I decided we both had enough. "Edward!" I shouted, hoping to knock him out of his stupor.

"Wha-huh? Oh yeah…sorry," he replied while shaking his head. He banged his palm into his forehead strangely, and after a few more awkward moments, something seemed to click in his brain and he was able to focus on the task at hand, as opposed to the fact there was a naked girl standing in front him; an impressive feat for any teen boy.

He used his sculpting tools to remove a good portion of clay from the breasts, and he also added some to the hips. I was in no way considered heavy, but I definitely had more meat on me than what he had originally created on the sculpture, and my breasts were nowhere near as large. I had always been slightly insecure about my body, but the statue's form that was emerging in my image was absolutely beautiful, and I realized I had nothing to be ashamed of…physically that is.

When the rough cuts were finished, Edward wet his hands and began defining and smoothing the piece. I probably could have stopped posing at that point, but I couldn't move. I was literally frozen there as I watched his long fingers caressing the body, and shaping the more intimate areas of the statue.

Once again, that constant tension escalated, but this time it was stronger than anything else I ever experienced before. As Edward's fingers continued to work, I could feel them, as if they were on my body instead. Everywhere his hands moved, to the hips, to the stomach, to the breasts, my body would react in tingling fits of desire.

I couldn't think straight. There was a humming deep inside my ears that made it impossible to rationalize the situation. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was wrong and I should get dressed…but those fingers…those long, talented, meticulous, assertive, fingers…

He re-wet his hands, and when he moved them to the space between the statue's legs, I quivered and knew I was done for. The water dripping from the clay was nothing compared to the moisture dripping from me, and I uncontrollably let out a low moan.

He must have heard me, because he glanced up and smirked cruelly, as if he knew exactly the kind of torture he was inflicting on me.

I couldn't take it anymore. My once frozen form shattered, and my hand began moving of its own free will. It immediately grabbed onto my sex, and not even my horrified conscience could stop it. Edward must have realized that I broke, because the next thing I knew, I was pushed up against the back wall and his body was holding me in place as his lips attacked mine.

It was an uncontrollable frenzy as we tried to devour each other. His muddy hands were all over me, covering most of my body in a layer of wet sloppy clay, but in that moment, I just wanted more. Desperate to be even closer to him, I pulled his shirt over his head as he made quick work of his pants, and without a word uttered between us, he lifted me up allowing my legs to wrap around him, and then he thrust himself right inside me.

We both moaned from the sensation, and then he proceeded to pound into me as if we were embarking on the battle of our lives.

It was months' worth of building tension that I now understood was intense sexual desire, and I realized in that moment that it was only a matter of time. It was inevitable. We were both slaves to it, and I was an idiot to ever think I was strong enough to resist.

I held onto him tighter than I ever held onto anyone or anything; I had to, otherwise I surely would have collapsed from the sheer force of it. I honestly didn't know how he was still standing, but he never faltered. He was so much more powerful than I ever gave him credit for, and I knew right then and there that he would win the war.

After the buildup finally reached it's explosive climax, we just stayed in that position for an undefinable amount of time. We were so close to each other, both clinging onto those last few precious moments of relief and contentment, and that's when it happened….

It crept in slowly at first, but as my wits returned, and comprehension began to settle in, I suddenly felt numb. What the hell just happened?

***A/N: Answers, real answers, coming up next!