9

Edward hadn't been able to sleep. He kept checking his phone, making sure he hadn't missed a call or text from Bella. He hadn't wanted to leave her with him. Charlie Swan was a dangerous man, whether Bell wanted to admit it or not. His insistence that she date Jacob Black, and only Jacob Black, bothered Edward. Why was he so obsessed with her being with the son of his best friend? Did he just not know what kind of an asshole he was? Or did he just not care?

At just after six in the morning, his phone vibrated from on top of his nightstand and when he picked it up, he expected a text from Bella, so imagine his surprised, and joy, when he saw Carlisle's name.

Hey, are you awake?

I am.

A second later, his phone rang and he immediately answered it with a rushed, "Hello."

"Hey," he murmured, sensually. "Why weren't you asleep?"

"Too much on my mind, I guess."

"Have you heard from her?"

"No."

"Neither has Esme. She's worried."

"Can't say I'm not either," Edward admitted.

There was a brief pause and then Edward heard him whisper, "I miss you."

He couldn't keep the Cheshire grin from spreading. "I miss you, too. Last night . . ."

"I was afraid I was too rough. You just drive me crazy with need."

"I do?"

"Um, yeah. You have no idea how many times a day I have to stop myself from kissing you at school, from pushing you onto your knees. The things you have me wanting to do to you, Edward."

"I want that, too. I . . . I need you to do that to me," he confessed. "When you take control, ownership over me, it's the only time I feel normal in my own skin."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know."

"I just don't want to scare you off. I've never had a relationship this intense before."

"Have you been with lots of other men?"

He heard Carlisle inhale a deep breath. They had discussed Edward's 'dating history' or lack of one, but never Carlisle's. Admittedly, he had been afraid to ask, afraid of hear the number of men his lover had slept with.

"There's been a few."

"Like three?"

"A few more than that."

Edward inhaled deeply. "Six?"

And when he sighed, he groaned. "Nine?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve?"

"Most of them during college. I was . . . Edward, I was just trying to figure out who I was, what I wanted, how I wanted it."

"And you topped them all?"

"No."

"No?"

Carlisle laughed. "No, silly boy. Just because I prefer being the top doesn't mean I don't enjoy mixing it up from time to time."

"Oh."

"Would you like mix things up?"

"I've thought about it."

"Tell me."

"Tell you?"

Carlisle hummed a husky, "Mmhmm."

"Um, okay." Edward shifted his eyes to his bedroom door, almost expecting his father to walk in and hear him describe one of his biggest fantasies to his boyfriend, but the door didn't budge, so he said, "Um, we're at school. In the weight room, and, um, it's just you and me and you're working your legs and I'm spotting you. You're just . . . you're sweaty and your face is red from, you know, working out, and you move to stand up, but I push you back onto the bench. Your eyes get really big, and for a moment, just a moment, I think you're mad at me, but then I straddle your chest, pinning your arms against your side with my legs. And then I . . ."

"What do you do, babe?" he asked, his voice thick and rasping and Edward wonders if he's touching himself, the same way he was, because he was unable to stop from pushing his pajama bottoms down and wrapping his fingers around his rapidly hardening dick.

"I push my shorts down, pulling my cock out. You start to speak, but I, kind of, shove my cock in your mouth. Your eyes are big, and I worry that I've gone too far, but then I feel you begin to suck on me. I can't stop myself from grabbing the back of your head and fucking your mouth."

Carlisle groaned. "You have dirty mouth, Edward. If I was there right now, I would have you on your knees fucking that dirty mouth of yours."

"I wish you were."

"Me too." He moaned. "What else happens? In your fantasy, what else happens?"

"After you've gotten me good and hard, I climb off you and tell you to bend over the side of the bench. You stand and do as I said. I pull your shorts and underwear down, and I . . . I fuck you. I fuck you hard and fast and the sound of our bodies pounding against each other's echoes. You start whimpering that you're close, that you need to cum."

Carlisle whimpered through the phone, and Edward moaned, his hand moving faster along his cock.

"I'm almost there, babe. Almost there."

"I can feel you tightening around me, so I grab the back of your hair, yanking your body against mine and as we cum together, I bite your neck, marking you as mine."

"Holy fuck!" Carlisle swore, and Edward bit his lip, imagining that Carlisle was standing over him; cumming on him, cumming in his mouth, and it's enough to push him over the edge, and he reached his own climax on his stomach.

Edward laughed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. "That was fun."

"Yes, it was. One day, I'm going to make that happen."

"You will?"

"Oh, hell yeah." Carlisle paused. "We should probably get cleaned up. We have to be at the field house in an hour for film."

"Yeah, okay."

"Try to get ahold of her. Make sure she's okay. You know, for Esme's sake."

"I will, and I'll see you in a little bit."

Edward called Bella, but the call went straight to voicemail. He texted her, Hey, you okay?

And it showed as delivered and then read in a matter of seconds, but she didn't reply back. And that worried him. He considered skipping film and heading to her house, but he didn't for two reasons: A) he wanted to see Carlisle face to face again, and B) he knew Charlie Swan wouldn't take too well to Edward showing up at his front door at seven in the morning. Charlie Swan considered him to be trash, which explained why he never helped his mother when he had been called to their house. He thought she deserved to be beaten.

Edward showered and dressed in a pair of black joggers that hugged his ass, and he knew Carlisle liked the way his ass looked in them, and a Forks High School Football T-shirt before he grabbed his letterman's jacket and headed downstairs. He paused when he found his father lying across the couch, his feet propped up on the arm rest. His eyes flickered from the television to Edward and he smirked. Fucking smirked.

"Heard you almost lost the game last night. Can't throw for shit, can you?"

Edward clenched his jaw tight and ignored him as he walked over to the front door, but paused when he heard his father say, "Got a little visit from Chief Swan yesterday."

Edward closed his eyes before he looked over at him.

"Seems you've been fucking his little girl, and he ain't too happy about it."

Again, Edward didn't say anything, causing him to swing his legs to the side and sit up before he stood. He was taller than Edward, bulky and cruel.

"You're sticking your dick in her pussy, aren't you?"

Edward gripped the doorknob and started to open the door, but his father moved so that he was standing behind him, slamming his hand against the thick wood. He leaned down do that his lips were just outside of his ear, and he could smell the liquor already on his breath. Seven o'clock in the morning and his father had already started drinking.

"I knew you were stupid, but I didn't think you were that stupid. Can't say I blame you, though. She's a hot piece of ass. Bet her pussy is tight, ain't it?"

"Don't talk about her." Edward turned, shifting his eyes up to his. "You don't talk about her."

He smiled, tilting his head to the side. "Look at you, boy. Defending that little slut."

"Shut your mouth!" Edward grabbed the front of his father's shirt, pushing him backward with as much strength as he could, which only amused him more. Edward opened the front door before saying, "You stay away from her."

"He's made it clear that he don't want you near her, boy. I'd heed his warning, if I were you."

"Good thing you aren't me."

As Edward hurried out of the house, the sound of his father's laughter followed, and he wondered how they were going to make it until the end of the school year if both of their fathers were working against them? Was there just no hope?

—S&S—

When Edward walked into the field house, he found most of the team, Alice, and Jessica already there. Bella, however, wasn't and that worried him. She never missed a Saturday morning, ever. He dug his phone out of his pocket and opened his text from earlier, still not getting a reply. He pressed his lips together before sending a new one, this one saying, Call me. I'm getting worried, Swan. And just like before, it showed delivered, and then read and then nothing.

"Masen!" The sound of Mike Newton's voice echoed through the small room and he groaned as he looked back at the door, finding him glaring at him. "Thanks for ruining the party last night."

"I didn't ruin anything. I wasn't even there, dipshit."

"No shit. You and Bella bailed, and her dad came looking for her, for you. He threatened to arrest us. All because you and Bella bailed."

"And that's my fault how exactly? Bella and I wanted to be alone, you know where none of you were watching us all the time," he added, giving them all a look.

"Whatever, Masen."

But Carlisle and Coach Clapp walked in from the back half of the field house, so everyone settled in their seats. Edward didn't miss the look of sadness Jessica Stanley threw in his direction as he sat next to Ben and once again checked his phone for a message from Bella. He couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong. Carlisle's eyes shifted around the room, landing on his and in that moment, Edward knew, he too was worried about Bella.

He cleared his throat, before saying, "Good game last night, gentlemen. You played hard, never let down momentum. But, there is still room for improvement." He paused before his eyes shifted to Mike Newton. "Newton, you missed five pass attempts from Masen. Five that could have resulted in touchdowns and we wouldn't have been scrambling to win in the final seconds of the game." And before Mike could defend himself, Carlisle added, "Maybe if you weren't so preoccupied with your little party, you could focus better."

Mike clamped his jaw tight, but was smart enough not to reply. He did glare at Edward, though, like it was his fault he couldn't catch a perfectly thrown pass. Carlisle went on to call out a couple of missed tackles, and a fumble before he turned off the lights and started the game film. It wasn't until he heard a chair move that he realized Carlisle was sitting right next to him, so close he could smell the man's cologne, and it took every bit of control he had not to reach over and began stroking his dick through the cotton material of his shorts.

—S&S—

Two hours of sexual tension later, Carlisle stood up, stopped the film, and turned the lights back on. He placed his hands on his hips as he looked at each and every one of them, saving Edward for last.

"You played hard, and I am proud of you. Next week, we have bye week, so practice will be a little lighter. We're going to focus on the fundamentals, but that doesn't mean we get complacent. We start district play soon, gentlemen, and I want it all." He shifted his eyes back to Edward. "And I do mean all of it."

Edward swallowed the moan that crept up his throat before Carlisle dismissed them. Edward wanted to talk to him, but knew they wouldn't be able to, not until he headed out to his house later that night. So, instead, he walked out to his car and climbed in behind the wheel. He had just stuck his key into the ignition when his phone chimed with a new text.

Hoping it was Bella, he yanked it out of his pocket. It wasn't her, but it was from Emmett, inviting him and Bella to Port Angeles to watch a movie with them. He refused and said he and Bella had plans and wanted to be alone. But before he could put his phone back in his pocket, he got another text, this one from Carlisle that said, Esme is freaking out. She can't get through to her. Did you?

Edward replied, No. Texts show read, but no response. I'm going to go to her house. I will let you know if she's okay.

Be safe, and I love you.

Edward smiled. I love you too.

Stowing his phone in his pocket first, Edward started the car and backed out of his parking space, driving through the parking lot and ignoring Mike Newton when he flipped him off. He was the least of Edward's problems, he thought, as he made the drive to Bella's house. Her father's police cruiser wasn't in the driveway, but her beat up red truck was. Edward hesitated for a minute before he climbed out of his car and made the short walk up to the front door. He rang the doorbell a couple times, waited a minute, and then knocked a few more times, but nobody answered. When he peeked into the front window, he didn't see any signs of life, which worried him.

Edward hurried off the porch and was almost to his car, when something drew his attention back to the house, and when he looked back, and upward, he saw her standing in the window of what he assumed was her bedroom. She had a scared, panicked look on her face as they made eye contact, and without even thinking, he hurried up to the front door and kicked it in. He stepped into the house, expecting her father to show himself, but other than the black trash bag full of empty beer cans next to the front door, there were no signs of him.

Edward started upstairs, and it wasn't hard to figure out which room was hers. Hers was the one with the thick padlock on the outside.

"Bella, Bella, are you in there?"

"Yes! Get me out of here!"

"Do you know where the key is?"

"No. The son-of-a-bitch probably has it on him. Listen, downstairs in the kitchen, cabinet under the sink there is a tool box. There's a screwdriver, hammer, something you can use to pry the fucking lock off. Just hurry. I don't know when he's coming back."

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

Edward hurried downstairs and followed her instructions. He found the toolbox and grabbed a screwdriver and the hammer, just in case he told himself. Once he was back upstairs, he was able to use the screwdriver to pry one side of the metal plates holding the lock together off the wood on the framework, and a minute later, the door swung open and Bella threw herself around him. He dropped the tools as he held her, feeling her trembling against him.

"It's okay, Swan. It's going to be okay."

"Nothing will ever be okay again."

And he knew she was telling the truth, because when she leaned backward, he saw the bruising around her eye and the hand prints on her neck. Charlie Swan had put his hands on her.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews. Things are getting serious, peeps!