Hey guys *ducks and hides while readers throw fruit* Sorry it's way overdue!

Props to my BETA-labeano2002

xo

Bella woke with a jolting start, feeling that familiar rush of falling, her stomach flipping and her muscles tensing for the impact of hitting the ground, until she opened her eyes with a gasp of surprise.

She was far from tripping or falling over. She was already horizontal, something heavy and fleshy wrapped around her torso in a vice grip, while another pair of harder more masculine legs were tangled with hers.

She was so deliriously warm in that moment, that it took her a few minutes to realize some things. One, her mouth tasted foul, as if someone had made her brush her teeth with bleach and dirt, and God knows what else. Two, her head throbbed like she'd been brained with a two by four. And most importantly, three, she wasn't in her bedroom. In fact, she was anchored quite heavily by a particularly masculine body, in a very unfamiliar bed.

The worst part happened to be the fact that she had no idea how she came to be in this stranger's bed and not her own.

The only thing that kept her from crying out in shock was the scent of the toasty body next to hers, and hands, recognizably large, calloused, and beautiful.

She sucked in a surprised breath before she could help it, a small incomprehensible squeal escaping her lips. She couldn't move to even cover her mouth or to sit up. Edward was heavy and he had his entire arm draped over her mid-section, his legs entwined with hers and his torso pressed quite firmly to her side.

Another quite substantial pressure on her body was that of something long and rock hard, pressing against her thigh. His body twitched as he fell out of his dream and came barreling back to reality with a wordless gawk and tightening of limbs.

His hot breath brushed over her face as he exhaled, the sound an odd mixture of relief and... happiness? Confused at his blasé awakening, she cleared her throat to speak.

"Did we have sex?" was the nagging question on her mind, but probably the most tactless way of asking, and also the stupidest question to ask first.

His reaction was thus, "God, no! No!"

At first she was relieved, then affronted as though the idea sounded repulsive to him—he had been able to walk away once. And then she felt ashamed, as she realized she had just assumed that Edward would take advantage of her when she was inebriated.

And once that acrid thought passed through her mind and out the door, she felt the throbbing headache pierce through her skull, a sullen reminder of drinks consumed a thousand years ago the night before.

It seemed so long ago now. But as she recalled... it was a horrible night all the same.

Edward removed his arm from around her waist sheepishly, as if only just realizing it was there and that he was physically restraining her from moving. But as he did, he noticed the far more... pressing concern, the one constrained in his boxers that was resting conspicuously on his bed neighbors' leg.

He shifted slightly to extricate himself and his embarrassing predicament, before he completely lost it with her lying there, disheveled clothes all askew and hair in disarray.

It was almost like he'd already fucked her, but after he considered it, if he had, he would have never let her put her clothes back on. Her warm little body felt so... nice to hold onto through the night that he lamented having to get up and take a cold shower.

Before he could move, she spoke again, her tone anxious but simultaneously reserved, as if she was weighing his answer, but trying not to care too much.

"Did you have sex with that girl?" she asked in a small voice, leaning on her elbow with her fingers rubbing her temple.

"What girl?" was his automatic response.

She scoffed and winced as the sound grated against the nerves around her temples and above her ears.

"The girl you were kissing at the party! I saw you!" she hissed, unable to raise her voice any further.

Her throat was too parched to speak louder.

"I barely touched her. I couldn't, and what's with the third degree, I should be asking you what the hell you were doing there! What the fuck kind of stunt you were trying to pull getting that drunk?" He shook his head in obvious exasperation.

"How did you even get there?" he added with prodding eyes and scrutinizing posture.

"Jacob brought me," she replied, somewhat matter-of-factly.

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he raised his hands together to crack his knuckles. She wondered if that was supposed to look threatening. Maybe he had bad joints.

Regardless, he didn't look in the least bit pleased.

"And he just left you alone?" he demanded, his hands dropping to his sides as he pushed himself to lean against the headboard, a terse line to his mouth that coincided with his clipped tone.

Bella felt her face heat up as the hazy memories struck her with their explicitness.

"He met a girl, and... I left," she explained quietly, rubbing her forefinger against a rather odd looking bruise on her forearm.

She felt perplexed as to how she got it...

"So he thought he'd keep an eye on you while some chick went down on his cock?" he sneered, disgusted; at who it was directed, Bella wasn't certain.

But she didn't like him talking to her like that, like he was mad at her, disgusted with her.

She dropped her eyes back to her arm, prodding and examining in case she accidentally started to weep.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him," he growled under his breath as Bella looked up at him again.

"I left the room. It was getting a little too crowded... and I... got a drink... and then..." Bella frowned, knowing she owed her lack of recall from the party was due to the booze.

But she was too stubborn to admit she didn't remember, because there was something, dark and hazy, cold and threatening that was stuffed behind her eyes, burned in her retinas. The only problem was that the alcohol created a block that she couldn't seem to get past.

Edward had folded his arms across his chest, and Bella failed when she tried not to stare at his biceps, the hard planes of his chest and his toned stomach, the trail of hair around his naval that disappeared between the dips in his pelvis.

She chewed her lip and looked into his blazing eyes again, taught with an extreme self-restraint.

"Do you remember what happened after that?" was his next icy question.

She shook her head, as he leaned forward to lift her chin up with his fingers. She followed his gaze as it dropped back down to her battered arms. He looked somewhat apologetic suddenly before he slowly, carefully hiked up the hem of her wrinkled camisole, her hips colored with the same angry purple bruises.

She gasped, where were these coming from? And what could have happened for her to acquire them?

Blonde hair.

She blinked then shook her head, staring at her sorry flesh.

Blue eyes. Angry. Vodka. Outside. Dark. Dining room. Table.

The dining room table.

"No," she murmured. "No."

Feeling that maybe if she said it enough, the memories would disappear like the fog through a swamp once the sun rose.

"Who did this?" She cocked her head to the side, her lungs filling with air that burned right through to her stomach as she remembered and answered her own question, "James."

There was a perceptible shift in Edward's demeanor; he went from cold, calculating to warm and comforting. His attitude changed in the blink of an eye, within a second, he had taken Bella's clammy fingers away from prodding her bruised side, and replaced it with his warm palm before he laid her back down beside him.

"I know you don't want to think about it, but... do you remember what he did?" His voice was gravel against glass, sharp, cutting and husky.

"I don't think I want to," she whispered. His eyes tightened at the catch in her voice.

He squeezed her tightly, thinking over and over again that he should have been there to stop him. While Bella's mind was scattered like a broken china plate, her memories sliced at her heart with a sting and a whisper of truth.

"He tried to take advantage of me," she stated, surprised at the calmness in her voice.

Beneath, she was whirling with disappointment, disgust, fear, and rage.

"Do you remember how far he got?"

"Please, Edward," she squirmed, moving her clammy hands to cover her face as she felt a dry, sore lump surge up her throat, a painful blister, a disguised sadness.

"I don't want to think about it, about him," she whispered into her palms before he deftly pulled them away.

"You don't have to. You can when you want. Right now, you can think about anything, and I'll be here. I'll never let you down again, I promise. I don't want you to lose yourself." A kiss to her forehead and the raging sea of anguish was wavering into content.

Safety.

"So from now on, don't go to parties like those unless you have someone reliable with you. And remind me I need to kick Jacob's ass." He shifted next to her, so she sat forward, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Edward maneuvered himself so his hips were facing away from Bella, his morning wood hidden, embarrassment avoided. He threw her a sheepish smile as he wove out of the sheets to sprint to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He took a few steps forward—

"You put our painting up on the wall?" Bella asked in disbelief.

She hadn't bothered to take a look around, and as it was attached to the wall above their heads, she didn't realize it was there at all. But as she turned her body fully to take it all in, Edward cursed a string of unmentionables under his breath, as he realized how creepy this probably seemed to her. He had an imprint of her naked body on his wall; an intensely erotic splash of color in the form of her exquisite physique.

But Bella, lovely, innocent Bella, may just see it as weird.

"Far out..." she murmured, in a curious breath, staring wide-eyed at the multicolored body painting.

Edward smiled despite his embarrassment, instead focussing on the smooth line her body made as she curved her body, craning her neck and stretching up from a sitting position so she was kneeling on the bed, her camisole a barely-there veil over her puckered nipples.

He swiftly clasped his hands in front of his crotch, although the ensuing tent pitched in his pants would not be easily covered.

"I didn't know you kept it." She grinned, laughing slightly, catching herself, blushing while biting her lip.

If she even knew how desirable she was... Edward thought. Maybe she'd know how to take care of herself.

She couldn't contain her giddiness at the little memento of their day together, and the fact that just Edward's doing made her smile after last night swelled his heart with pride and possessiveness.

He smirked before jutting his thumb towards the bathroom.

"I'm just going for a shower, I'll be out in a minute; make yourself comfortable... and try to think of an excuse to tell your parents why you were gone the entire night."

Bella blanched, realization an acrid taste on her tongue before the antidote that was Edward's lips, touched hers. They lingered, his mouth stretched into a smile, before he turned and closed the door behind him.

Bella, torn, lonely and uncomfortable; slumped against the wall, staring at the off-white colored door concealing Edward from her. One rash decision later, and she was on her feet, closing the distance between herself and the door, jumping in surprise as she heard the faucets squeak, and the water beginning to run. She didn't understand why she did it, why she so abrupt and confident all of a sudden.

She leaned her forehead against the cool door, feeling the bite of the morning air and the chilly absence of his body heat. But as she closed her eyes and felt her sight blacken into slithers of memory from the previous night, she understood...

Hot and cold all over her body, her head felt like it was made of lead. Rough, sweaty hands ran over her body, pushing her dress up her thighs until she felt him between her legs. She was squirming uncomfortably, feeling more like an object and not a person, a girl, a woman. She was pushing her arms at his chest, weakly defending herself from the heavy body leaning over hers. Hands caught hers, and she made a noise of pain as he twisted them away, grabbing at her arms to restrain her. She didn't want this! He had to stop! James had to stop!

A screech of fear, and then a loud banging, and replacing the disgusting claws on her thighs were those of her savior...

Warm, inviting, safe—and then she felt home, his breath was hot and familiar to her flesh, a reminder of what was real, secure and right.

She turned the brass door knob, pushing to make a gap big enough for her to fit through inconspicuously. Steam filled the room, fogging the mirror and concealing her reflection which she would have assumed to be beet red, but felt no embarrassment about it at all.

She wiped her hand over the glass and saw her wide eyes staring back at her, anxious to glance over at the opaque shower curtain separating her from Edward. She lifted her camisole from her body, the moisture making it stick to her skin before she carefully folded it and placed it on the edge of the sink then stepped out of her panties. She was neat and staking claim to her position in this man's life.

Her body sang to his, a quiver running through her skin, into her muscles and absorbing through her bones. It wasn't just on a physical level; she loved his mind, his freedom, his light. She felt him touch her not only on her cheek, or lips—she felt him in her head, her heart and to the depths of her soul without even trying.

She was taking an unimaginable leap from being infatuated with him, to actually barging into the category of love. Dangerous territory; she'd told herself that before. You don't fall for the rebellious boys, you wait until college to find a husband. But you don't choose love, it chooses you. Bella felt an insane gratitude to whatever cycle of events or fate led her to Edward.

And so she stepped with cautious but determined feet over the tiles to the shower. She saw his silhouette behind the plastic, the water cascading down his face, his body...

She was slick with anticipation, a wanton ache between her legs as she thought about him...

"Edward?" she murmured, and saw his body go rigid and still.

"Bella?"

"Can I... come in?" she ventured with a shaky voice.

"I, uh—what?" he said, his voice louder over the noise of the spray.

He opened his eyes, wiping his hands over his face to see clearly as the curtain was pulled back slightly. Unabashed about his nudity, but not wanting to make her feel nervous, he covered himself with a face cloth, although it didn't seem to do much, as his cock knew exactly what direction to point in, hard as rock and impossible to miss.

A slender, pale leg slipped into the tub, a hand reached out to catch the wall to steady herself before the other leg followed. Bare skin, all bare...

Edward gulped and didn't say anything as the water ran over him, he could do nothing to conceal his arousal, or shock.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

She chewed on her lip and smiled coyly.

Since when did she fucking smile like that? Oh good God, Jesus Christ...

Bella had no experience, sexually; only the preliminary lessons she'd had with Edward, but she was mostly following instinct at that point. Instinct told her to reach out and touch him, her slim fingers wrapping around his length followed by a gentle tug that had Edward's knees buckling under him, a horrid curse flowing from his lips and falling into the stream of water.

Somehow, the use of the profanity seemed to spur her on; this way she knew what she was doing was right, as he unconsciously bucked his hips, sliding his penis against her hand and groaning. She grinned triumphantly, blowing relief through her lungs.

Edward on the other hand knew that he was going to hell, but thought that taking a ride like this on the way down was completely fucking worth it.

She squeezed harder, starting a rhythm of strokes that Edward was mewling over, his body moving close to hers, his hands acting as magnets to her skin, skin so soft that it was begging to be touched.

"Bella—wh-wh-you d-don't have to do this," he panted, clenching his jaw as she kissed his chest, still rubbing maddeningly skillfully along his cock.

"I want to," she murmured and looked up at him, blinded through the spray, "to thank you."

"You shouldn't... I shouldn't make you—oh, fuck!" he snarled, backing her into the tiled wall as she pumped harder, surprised by his movements.

"I want to make you feel the way you make me feel. Please let me." She pressed another kiss to his collar bone, his chin, until he caught her mouth with his as he ran his hands over the soft, delicious mounds of her perky breasts.

He wanted to be in her; to mark his name on her flesh like an invisible tattoo, a beautiful silence of feelings. A sentiment that could not be seen, but simply known by everyone else.

He wanted to write love all over her body with the power of his.

But not now...

Not here, not after tonight. She needed time to reacclimatize.

His breath shook as she slowed; he thought it was punishment for letting her do it in the first place. That is, until she slid from his grip and put her mouth to the tip of his aching cock.

"Bella! Fuck! Yes!" He was supposed to say no, but what could he do?

Tell her to stop? Absolutely. But could he do that to his penis? Absolutely not.

He was scrambled, and begging for a distraction that wouldn't come; he'd definitely do that first. She covered his entire head with her mouth, her tongue circling before she let him further inside, and the heat had him; her lips soft and sexy working him over. He growled desperately to warn her he was coming, but she didn't move away and he burst into her throat.

He backed up and she let him go, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth with a grin and wicked brown eyes.

"Bella—I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Edward apologized, trying to steady himself and level his mind.

She licked her lips.

"I liked it..." she offered shyly, back to her old self before she crossed her arms over her chest, the water creating a shine over her skin.

Her body was a sight to behold, and Edward felt then, a shudder of certainty lock something into place inside him. She would be worshipped.

No matter what, when, or how.

She was an unintentional entity of solace for him, a cause for worry and deep seeded possessiveness, a woman who was more important to him than his own life. She was a woman, not a girl.

He reverently, took her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers in a sensual promise of 'you're special to me'. Actions spoke more than their words could; a tumbling succession of orgasms achieved with Edward's hands, namely.

He parted her moist lips with his fingers, inserting one while rubbing her clit with his thumb, relaxing her muscles to keep her from feeling pain. Her mouth agape with the surprise of what he could do to her, bring out of her, he couldn't smile, just stare so intensely that it made her toes curl.

A moment mirroring the day they made the painting. The throb between her legs was sated, twice, the only throb left was the one that beat inside the iron cage of her chest.

~0~

Bella hadn't realized how early they had actually woken up that morning. As if God hadn't wanted her to be caught, she found the house dark and unstirred. The doors still locked, a key was the antidote, slipped under the welcome mat before she closed it again. Her father hadn't set an alarm for work, so he was still fast asleep, and if Charlie didn't wake up, neither did Renee.

She was free from consequence; but she didn't know how long that luck would last, so she'd keep the midnight trips and early morning rendezvous to a minimum.

~0~

A young girl of the tender age of seventeen approached Bella in the courtyard at lunch. Bella was making her way across from the office after convening with the principal all morning about her subjects, enrollment and her schedule, to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, you must be the new girl? I'm Jane." She grinned mischievously, a glint of foreboding in her eyes that Bella mostly ignored.

She was in no position to judge at the moment, especially when she hadn't made any friends yet at all.

Bella tugged at the sleeve of the grey, woolen sweater she wore as part of the uniform. Necessary, but ugly.

"Yeah—I'm-I'm Bella Swan." She took Jane's extended hand, felt the clamminess of Jane's and was swift to take her hand back.

Jane was blonde, and her hair was long, pushed back with a thick, velvet headband. Her wide blue eyes were piercing into Bella's conscious, as if she was reading an ancient scripture that was difficult to decipher.

Jane linked arms with her new progeny and smiled all the way up the stone steps, out of the windy atrocity that was the weather today, and into the warmth of the eating hall. An enormous, stone structure that resembled a church. Bella let herself be dragged by her new friend, feeling only a haze of uncertainty as Jane forced her down in a seat at a full table.

Bella grasped her ponytail with both hands and pulled it over her shoulder, nervously curling it around her finger; she found the motion somewhat comforting as it was reminded her of how Edward played with her hair. She knew no one here, save for the teaching staff, and respectable school nurse she met this morning—she had the feeling she was in for a long, strenuous day.

There were other girls to her right and left, and she felt her nerves fray at the edges. The girl on the right introduced herself as Rosalie, a bubbly blonde, all cherry lips and stinging smiles. She looked painfully familiar, but then Bella thought, all these girls looked like each other. The girl on the left was called Alice, and she was very pretty. She had blonde hair curled into a stylish little bob that almost made her look a bit boyish. Despite that, Bella felt envious of her edgy do', but deduced she'd never have the courage to part with her beloved brown locks. Across from her was another girl, a strawberry blonde, named Tanya. She looked at Bella as though she were beneath her.

"Wow, I really love your hair, Bella," Jane said from behind her, carrying a tray with four apples on it and plates of unidentifiable stew.

"Thank you," she smiled, blushing.

Bella passed on the stew, but took a shiny red apple, twirling it in her palm and pulling absently at the stalk.

"The apple matches your cheeks," Rosalie grinned, biting into her own with a slightly vicious force.

"Oh, uh..." Bella didn't know how to reply, so she did as she was taught. "...uh, thank you?"

Alice was mostly quiet, and stayed that way for a while; Bella realized the girl barely got two words in between Tanya, Rosalie and Jane. It seemed she was the lower ranking of the pack of four and Bella felt a camaraderie with her.

Rosalie shared a look with Jane before she gasped and squealed, pointing to Bella's skirt.

"Spider!" she screeched, making everyone at the heavy wooden table, jump.

Bella, terrified of spiders leapt up from her seat only to have her head crash into something hard, a warm oozing liquid falling onto her hair. Her cry resounded through the large hall while Rosalie barely contained her laughter. Bella whipped her head around to see a boy with combed brown hair and a smirk, still holding a lunch tray, but with his food upturned over her, soaking into her new clothes and running in disgusting sticky trails down her face and neck.

She pressed her lips together, standing up gingerly before bursting into tears as she ran to the girl's bathroom; an unsavory residue on her skin, and a first day at Lowell High School that she'd never forget.