Chapter Nine

BPOV

Soft sheets and even softer kisses … this is what my evening consists of.

I keep waiting, waiting, waiting for him to make love to me, to make me feel the tingle in my toes using the rest of his body as he did with his mouth, his fingers, but he doesn't. Instead, he gently massages my scalp as he murmurs sweet words into my tells me how long he's desired me, how he's struggled with wanting something he shouldn't, something he didn't feel he deserved for so long.

He deserves.

He deserves whatever happiness I invoke inside of him, although I'm unsure how anyone can feel happiness being around someone like myself. Rarely does joy seep inside me. I feel as if I am walking around inside someone else's flesh; a soul scratching and clawing at the dead skin covering a tired body.

Only he can stoke the flames flickering inside a once empty chest.

I'm dry kindling and his flame … it burns so bright, ravaging my body, flames of desire, of cherished kisses torching my no longer elusive heart.

I'm trembling.

Eric is the only other man I shared such intimacy with, although he never caused my heart to quiver the way Edward does, never brought forth such a flurry of heated desire to my very core. Lying next to him in the dark, guilt pricks at my skin for comparing him to my husband, but Eric was my one and only,and the comparison comes naturally, creeping from the back of my mind and consuming my thoughts.

Eric never made me come.

My skin heats with the inappropriate thought and the guilt thickens. Selfishness momentarily takes its place. How had I lived such a life? How had I allowed a man to take what he wanted from me but never gave back in return? And Edward … he'd asked for nothing in return, only concerned with allowing wave after wave of pleasure to wash over me, gather me in his arms, take me to bed, and gave me breathing room. Thinking room; time to reflect; to make a choice whether to take another step forward, or a giant leap back.

"Make love to me," I whisper.

Fingers no longer tug and lightly twist my hair. Eyes locked on mine, he descends, capturing my lips and leaving a moan inside my mouth. Tongue touch. Hot and hungry, we kiss;licking and loving, fingers quaking over heat-slicked skin. My panties are gone, easily pulled down by his roaming hand and kicked aside by my sure foot. He's already naked, boxers on the floor, my hand wrapped around his length, pumping and pulling.

Anticipating.

The anticipation tickles my inner thighs, trailing down onto the sheets below. His hands gathers the moisture, palms pushing my legs open wide before he climbs on and swiftly enters, guided by my steady hand.

The burn is incredible. My head falls back onto the pillows, writhing around in a brown mess of sweaty strands. A scream for each thrust;he moves, stretching and filling me so full, my own cries smothered by the sound of his own voice.

"Beautiful, Bella. Perfect, Bella. My Bella. Forever. Forever."

Needing more, I hook my legs behind his back;digging my fingers into his ass. Forward—bringing him forward. He hits me so deep, sending a thrill into the burning pit of my stomach with each stroke of his cock, hitting that place inside me with deep, steady thrusts.

Hands seek me out. Fingers pluck my nipples, causing a sweet sound to erupt from both of our throats. Moans, heavy breaths,and the naughty slap of our wet sex fill the air. The sound alone winding me tighter and tighter.

"I want you on top of me," he says, air fighting against his lungs. "I want to see your beautiful body riding my cock."

A hesitant moment and then I nod, never one to take the lead before, but that was the old Bella,and she isn't me. He smirks, his eyes glowing with the gloat of a boy who's talked his way into a prize.

I ride him slow, learning the language of his body. Hands gripping my thighs, he whispers dirty things in the sultry air.

"Watch yourself, Bella. Look between us. Watch how beautiful you look riding my cock."

I follow his gaze, my eyes trained on his length. It glistens with our wet heat, twitching inside of me. The sight of the thickness, the prominent veins, the flick of his thumb against my clit is too much … it's too much. I feel it forming, unwinding and whipping around inside my belly,and he tells me to watch.

And I do.

"That feels so good, baby. Feels so good," he murmurs.

I come again and again, clenching, and falling from some place I never knew existed. All the while, my eyes never leave that place between us, his hips picking up pace, now slapping against me. Filling me, his own orgasm following seconds after mine, and he easily lifts me, dragging my wet center over his abdomen, over his chest, over his mouth. His tongue lashes out, teasing my sensitive bud and I scream, my fingers twisting in his hair, a fresh wave of heat coursing through my body as he eats me.

And I'm joyful.

I'm joyful.

I'm silly, parading around my backyard like a pre-pubescent girl longing for the pool boy's attention. Fray from my worn, cut-offs tickles the back of my thighs. My tank clings to my body, the light sheen of sweat from a hot summer's day saturating the fabric. Edward glances up in the nick of time from where he's skimming the pool. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I lean down, yanking the weeds from the flower garden, ass in the air.

Once I've cleared them away, I steal another glance over my shoulder. He stands unmoving, net in hand, darkness in his eyes. Pressing my thighs tightly together, I close my eyes momentarily, remembering the way he made me come undone twice already this morning.

When I open my eyes, the darkness is gone, replaced with a frown. He lowers the cap on his head, lowering my heart as well. Ducking and hiding his face, he turns his back to me, quickly dumping bugs and leaves into the bushes.

"Screwing the pool boy?" a voice asks, startling me.

I jump at the sound, my heat churning in my chest. Renee grimaces as she walks across the dew-kissed grass, glaring disgracefully at the bits of dirt and muck clinging to her heels.

"Can't say I'm shocked," Renee says, planting her hands on her hips and gazing Edward's way. "You wouldn't be the first Swan to screw the hired help and I'm sure you won't be the last. Let's just hope you're as discrete about it as others have been."

"Mother, it's so nice to see you." I tug on the hem of my shorts, my face burning and not from the heat. "What brings you here today?"

Renee continues to watch Edward work, his face shadowed by the bill of his baseball cap. "You haven't been to church for the past few Sundays. Now I know why." She turns her attention away from Edward, smirking at me. "Tell me, how does it feel paying someone to have sex with you? Cheap and dirty, I imagine. Is that how you like to feel, Isabella? Cheap and dirty?"

"I'm not paying him to do anything," I say, anger bubbling deep inside me. "He doesn't work for me."

"If you're not his employer ..."

"I'm his …" I pause, not sure exactly what we are. Can't she just leave? Let me enjoy this day spent with the man I love? Why must she ruin everything? "I'm his girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" She laughs, her eyes sparkling as she studies me from head to toe, her expression turning critical. "You're far from a girl, Isabella Swan. You're not getting any younger, but I'm sure you already realize this. That's why you're banging the pool boy, after all. The piece of shit truck parked in your driveway and his less than quality attire tells me all I need to know about the kind of man he is. A nobody, just like you're becoming."

"Mother, please leave," I beg, fear jutting through my chest as she takes a step in Edward's direction. If she were to find out who he really is … "Go home and leave me alone."

"Is that the way to speak to the woman who payed some of your bills when you were lost in the bottom of a bottle?" she asks, shaking her head in disappointment. "Honestly, I thought I raised you to display more decorum. Not only do you sass your mother, but you're lowering your standards physically, as well. Jacob Black has been pining after you since Eric died, but do you give him the time of day? No! You'd rather sleep around with a man covered in tattoos than allow the district attorney to court you."

With each step she takes the panic brews deeper inside. She quirks a pencil-thin eyebrow at the distress in my features, narrowing her eyes and taking yet another step. I wring my hands together, wondering if Edward can detect my anxiety from across the lawn. He hangs the net on the side of the pool house and steps inside, closing the door behind him. But a shut door doesn't discourage my mother. She clomp, clomp, clomps her way across the concrete poolside, shoving her way inside the pool house.

I dart across the lawn, each ragged breath I take burning my lungs. Bursting inside the pool house, I expect to find my mother screaming profanities at the discovery of the identity of the man who inadvertently ended my husband and child's lives. I expect to find her berating him, slapping him, calling him every name in the book other than a child of God.

Instead, I find her smirking at him as he stands with his ball cap in his hand, nervously running his fingers through his hair. His gaze between the two of us is one of shame, alarm, and worry, worry that he's hurt me again, hurt me without meaning to harm me. I wheeze out my mother's name, but she doesn't acknowledge me.

At first.

Seconds pass by. Minutes. Each one strained with an intense discomfort as her smile widens and her eyes flit over the sweaty body of the man I've fallen for. I keep waiting, waiting on the moment she snaps, because she always snaps.

Always.

"My, my, my," she murmurs, absently patting her auburn curls. "My daughter is not only screwing the help, she's fucking the man who killed off her entire family."

Edward's face and shoulders falls. He hangs his head, wringing the ball cap in his hands. That old, familiar expression lives in his eyes, the one that tells me he still believes he doesn't deserve me, not after what happened to my family, to our families.

"It was an accident," I say. "An accident. It wasn't even his fault. It was Eric's."

"Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better about what the two of you are doing?" Renee asks.

She glances around the room and I follow her gaze. The pool house has transformed into a home, a masculine home with Edward's boots resting near the patio door and a pair of jeans slung over the back of the couch. I blush, noticing my mother's eyes falling on a pair of panties Edward had stripped off my body last night. They remain abandoned on the couch, halfway shoved between two overstuffed cushions.

"An accident you're taking advantage of, I see." Renee's smile melts away. She tilts her head to the side, analyzing my face. "Tell me, do you think of Eric when Edward is buried inside of you? Do you imagine his face the moment he died as Edward thrusts inside your body?"

Nausea bubbles inside my belly at her callous words. Tears sting my eyes. I try to tell her to stop talking, to shut up, but the words hang in my throat, choking me.

"How dare you speak to her that way," Edward says, his voice edged in shock. "She's your daughter."

"And a disgrace to the Swan name." Renee sniffs, raising her chin. "An embarrassment to her family."

"Daddy knows," I whisper, somehow finding the strength to speak. And it's well worth it, to see my mother's carefully guarded face twist in surprise. "Daddy knows Edward is living here. And Jasper … Jasper caught us together a while back. What, you didn't know?"

Mother says nothing, so I continue, a dry laugh breaking past my lips. "Your precious Jasper didn't tell you? Maybe you're not the matriarch you previously thought yourself to be."

"You're going to pay for your insolence." Renee smiles, a wicked, knowing smile. "You're going to pay dearly for muddying the family name."

And with that she's gone, her auburn curls bouncing on her shoulders, the stiff fabric of her skirt complaining against her quickened steps. For once I'm not alone in my sorrow. I'm no longer wallowing around in the hurt and guilt my mother often leaves behind. Edward wraps his arms around me, his chest flush against mine, whispering comforting words in my ear.

No, I'm not alone anymore. I have him. I have him.

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