A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Hope you're all staying safe and healthy. We're a little stir crazy around here, but we're making the best of it. Writing definitely helps. I hope reading this little cruise ship tale, set in a world where there was never a virus running rampant onboard cruise ships or anywhere else for that matter, has helped to keep you guys entertained as well. :)

This is marked 'Complete.'

BUT, I've got something else coming up soon, to see if we can all stave off the shakes that come being home so damn much, lol. It's not the story I'd originally planned to be the follow-up to this story. That one was going to be very angsty, and as much as I love angst, I feel like nowadays, at least for the time being, something a little more lighthearted might suit better.

The title to the new story is after the closing A/N ;)

Anyway, here we go.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine as well.

Seven Nights – Epilogue

On the Seventh Day of Another Cruise…

Edward holds my hips firmly between his strong hands. He guides me up and down, alternating between slow, tender thrusts and driving in fast and hard. He fills me, makes me throw my head back and cry out, then he picks me up and leaves me empty, making me whimper – before he slams me back down.

It's maddening. Bewildering. I'm breathless, heart pounding so hard I'm sure it'll give out at any moment. But what a way to go.

We've been vacillating between tender lovemaking and honest to goodness fucking for the past…I have no idea how long. As usual, Time, along with everything else, ceased to exist the moment Edward pushed himself inside me.

"Edward…" I breathe.

Arching my back, I tangle my fingers behind his damp neck and wrap my legs around his slender waist, clinging to him as he bobs me up and down.

"What, Bella? What? What do you want? Tell me," he commands.

His mouth puckers around one breast, pulling my nipple and swirling his tongue before he skims, open-mouthed, to the other, intense heat following the path his mouth takes.

"Tell me," he whispers against my skin.

"I don't want you to stop. Ever. Don't ever stop. So good. So, so fuck…" I choke.

He chuckles hoarsely, the sound reverberating between our bodies and concentrating itself where we're joined.

"Well, I don't know if I can promise never to stop."

"Please…please…yes…yesss…"

"Like this?"

"Just like that…don't stop…don't stop…"

I beg shamelessly, plead, and whimper while he bounces me over him.

Because there has never been shame between Edward and me, that was one of the first signs of the rightness of us. There was no shame the first time we made love and certainly not now. So when he pulls me off of him and lays me across the large, California-King bed, I expel a cry of protest. My bare chest heaves. My body quivers. I fist the sheets and squirm, seeking friction.

"Edward…don't stop."

Again, he chuckles, kneeling in front of me, his arms, chest, and legs glistening with perspiration, palms resting on his muscular thighs. I lick my lips as I gaze at him.

"God, you look so delicious. And you're so hard, Edward. Please."

A crooked grin lifts up one corner of his mouth, which just adds to the perfection of the erotic picture before me.

"Jesus, Bella, these days you're just so…"

"Horny?" I grin.

"And you look so good moving like that. Touch yourself, baby. Lemme see."

I do as he says and arch my back, pretending it's his hand where mine is, even as I watch him watch me through dark, lust-filled eyes. He wraps a hand around himself and pumps up and down.

"So beautiful," he breathes.

"Liar," I chuckle, running my free hand over my stomach.

Edward shakes his head languidly. "I'm not lying. Not at all. Now drop your legs and spread them wide so I can…yeah. Yeah, just like that."

He leans forward, and with his hands splayed against my knees, he holds me open while the wet heat of his tongue skims higher…higher…I shut my eyes, waiting…

My hips buck against his mouth, and he curves his hands around me, holding me. My mouth falls open in silent gratitude. For one long, beautiful moment, I'm so lightheaded I'm sure I'm floating.

Then he drives back in.

"When you come," he hisses, hips moving in quick, rhythmic thrusts, our friction audible, "tell me how much you love me. I promise I won't get mad."

I chuckle hoarsely at his teasing. "Make it really good, Mr. Masen, and I'll say whatever you want me to say."

He quirks a brow. "Oh, really?"

We're very sexual, Edward and I; yeah, we are. And I've more than accepted, I've embraced it. I welcome the never-ending lust between us, this want that's never fully sated. We don't deny our shared passion, and we refuse to allow it to dwindle.

Nonetheless, mind-blowing sex isn't the only thing between us. There's so much more. There are never-ending conversations and shared moments and shared laughter and shared interests and shared happy days and shared sad days and fights and makeups and a desire to support one another through everything and…and always awe for one another that hasn't diminished one iota.

So, as my wise mom once said, the great damn sex is simply a byproduct of everything else, a confirmation of the rightness of us. Because when you know-

Jesus, he's in so damn deep that I can no longer think. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I know exactly how that thought ends, but right now, I can't focus on it.

"So damn beautiful and fresh and sweet…" he murmurs, punctuating each one of my supposed virtues with a roll of his hips. His sea-green eyes are dark and intense. They hold mine unrelentingly, pumping me so damn good…so damn good that the coil inside me he's been tightening with every advance and retreat is ready to snap.

"Edward…Edward…I'm almost…"

"I know, baby. I can feel you so…mph," he grunts, kissing me hard and caging my face between his hands. "I love you so much, Bella. So damn much. And when you come…" he hisses against my mouth, "when you come, I want to hear you yell it so loud…so fucking loud," he grits.

Between his actions and his words, the coil snaps. My eyes squeeze shut as a strangled sound escapes me. All the while, Edward's hips rock…and rock…and I open my mouth to scream-

A series of three knocks land against the cabin door.

"Bella?"

Edward's urgent tempo instantly ceases.

"Bella, honey, are you awake?"

Dark, hooded, and lust-filled eyes now round in horror. After two seconds of confusion, I reply in a strangled voice.

"Uh, yeah, Dad! I was just getting ready to…getting ready to get up?"

"Oh, okay. Just wanted to let you know we're all up on deck."

With a wicked grin, Edward resumes his thrusts, whispering in my ear.

"Liar. That's not what you were getting ready to do."

"Stop," I breathe weakly, though by digging the heels of my feet deeper into his bare ass, I suppose I'm negating that specific plea. "Stop," I grin.

"No way am I leaving you half-finished, no matter who's at the door." Slipping an arm under my back, Edward lifts me and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his other arm around my bottom so that with his next thrust, he holds me prone against his entire body.

"Bella?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I ignore the voice at the other side of the door.

"Bells?"

Edward keeps right on rocking his hips.

"Everything okay, Bells? You need me to get Edward?"

"No…no…"

And when Edward groans long and hard and buries his face against my neck, I hold him just as tightly.

"That's right, baby," I breathe in his ear. "That's right."

"Bells, everything okay?" My dad sounds alarmed now.

"Yeah, Dad! I'm just…stretching."

A couple of minutes later, Edward draws in a deep breath and loosens his hold on me. He offers me an amused look.

"Stretching?"

"What was I supposed to say? Dad, go away; Edward and I are coming?"

He snorts and lowers me back on the bed with unnecessary caution, then supports most of his weight on his elbows.

"If the previous half-hour didn't break me, the weight of your body won't," I say as I pull him over me and force his elbows to fold.

He chuckles as he complies – though I can tell he's still holding off some of his weight. Then, he kisses me softly, tender brushes of his lips wherever they find me.

"Hey, do you think it was important, whatever Dad needed?" I wonder.

"No," he whispers. "No."

"But what if-"

"It wasn't important, my love. Everything's fine. Everything's…"

He sighs and rests his head on my chest, and I coil my fingers around the damp hairs at the nape of his neck. When my eyes fall to the nightstand beside us, a tired yet blissfully happy smile spreads across my face as my gaze rests on a picture.

"…perfect," Edward finishes.

The picture is a framed eight by ten of a couple who'd met less than seventy-hours earlier; they run hand in hand through a cruise ship, grinning impishly at one another, gazing at each other in open wonder, yet completely unaware that they were on their way to more than sex.

They were on their way to forever.

"Yeah. Perfect," I echo.

Then I drift off for a few minutes.

OOOOO

About a half-hour later, we emerge hand in hand up on deck in the type of cruise gear I'll always associate with our first cruise together. Edward wears a white polo with a tiny blue polo player on his chest and blue Bermuda shorts with a pattern of minuscule white whales all over. My sharp dresser. In turn, I wear a two-piece, yellow swimsuit with a sarong the color of the Caribbean sea tied around my neck. It floats around my thighs like a soft wave. The golden sun shines brightly in the celeste skies, its rays reflecting off the boat's pristine, wooden deck. The sea is calm and laps gently against the boat's hull. There are so many similarities to that first cruise.

Yet, instead of a calypso or reggae band, the music emanating from the speakers in the background is that of a different artist, an artist who's added three Grammy's, two MTV Music Awards, and a few other odds and ends to his collection since that fateful cruise.

Instead of a large cruise ship, we're sailing the Caribbean on a yacht – similar to the one which Edward lent his music partner, Tyler Crowley, during that previous cruise and that Tyler sailed to St. Maarten, but this one is bigger. On that previous cruise, Edward hesitated to tell me the yacht was his because he feared my knowledge of what a celebrity he already was would've made me tuck tail and run.

It may have; I was pretty skittish back then.

Instead of Edward's stolen shades, I'm wearing my own pair. Edward had them custom-made for me for our six-month anniversary, using the sea-glass we once found on a tiny island as the frame. I'd flown down to Miami for that anniversary; it was my second visit to him compared to about his sixth visit up to Washington to see me. But he knew…he understood it was still hard for me to leave Washington.

And instead of a cruise ship full of strangers and a few friends, this yacht is full to the brim with those who are most important to us. At the moment, more than a few of them are gathered around the large breakfast table at the stern of the boat. Their boisterous voices are raised in shared laughter around about twenty different, raucous conversations.

For a brief moment, Edward and I simply stop and stare, but they notice us pretty quickly. Alone time is pretty precious time nowadays.

"Look, Renee! There are Mommy and Daddy!"

But so are all other times.

"Mama! Dada!"

Perched in the arms of her grandmother Liz, Edward's mom, our two-year-old daughter reaches out for us.

"There's my little beauty," I hear Edward murmur beside me.

Meanwhile, I call out, "Renee!" and a wide grin spreads across my face.

"Careful, babe. Don't slip," Edward chuckles, holding onto my hand as I rush forward.

When we reach our daughter, Edward takes her from his mom and lifts her high up so that she reaches her arms to the celeste skies, and the sun captures all the copper highlights in her wavy hair. Her sea-green eyes sparkle. All the while, her giggles fill my heart. When Edward carefully sets her back down between us, he pulls us both tightly against his chest.

"My two girls."

Before we got here, there were adjustments Edward and I made to accommodate our relationship. At first, I was terrified about leaving my mom for more than a few days. Edward was extremely understanding and supportive. He was Selfless – yet another virtue of his.

Yes, with a talent that's pretty much portable, he made many of those first trips up to Forks. He set up a studio right in Forks and created his beats from there. In between, we'd hike the Olympic Mountains, camp under the stars, and help manage my parents' tourism company.

But no matter what, he still had his commitments in Miami…sometimes in New York, in L.A., and in many other places. Little by little, I began joining him on some of those commitments. And a year later, we took our second cruise together, just him and me.

So, for that first couple of years, as Edward's career soared even higher, and my parents' business grew as well, Edward and I flew back and forth across coasts. It wasn't always easy, though I won't deny that Edward's financial status removed one obstacle.

But despite any hardship, despite the distance, we knew we were it for one another.

And so one day, four years after that fateful mega cruise, Edward and I boarded a smaller, much more private boat and vowed one another forever. Any coast-to-coast flying we did afterward, we did together.

A couple of years after that, Renee Elizabeth Masen came along to slow us down for a bit…and enrich our lives all the more.

Edward's parents approach us.

"Did you get some rest, Bella?"

"Yeah, Mom." I offer my mother-in-law, an amazing woman, a soft smile. "Thanks for watching Renee."

"She's an angel," Edward's sweetheart of a dad, Ed. Sr, says.

"She really is," Liz agrees.

A peal of musical laughter rings out from behind Liz. It instinctively makes me grin because I know that sound, and I know a teasing comment will follow. And I also grin because I'll never take hearing that voice for granted.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but while I love my granddaughter with my entire heart and soul, your daughter's a little devil, just like you were at that age."

"Like her grandmother still is," my dad says. He wraps an arm around my mom's shoulders and leans in to whisper in her ear, but whether purposely or not, he doesn't quite whisper low enough. "In bed."

"Ugh, Dad," I shriek. "There are children present!"

Everyone laughs.

"Like both her grandmothers then," Ed. Sr. adds, kissing his wife's cheek.

"Mom, Pop, great," Edward smirks playfully at my parents. "Now you've got my parents doing it."

"Edward, honey, your dad and I were doing it long before we met Charlie and Renee. How do you think we created you and your brother?" Liz quips.

Everyone roars, while I pretend to dry heave, and Edward squeezes his eyes shut, chuckling under his breath.

"Mom, Dad, Charlie, and Renee! We're gonna throw up all our breakfast over here if you all don't quit it over there! I for one don't need to know about all the weird things that came together when ya'll made my husband!"

Garrett's booming voice carries from the table, and Emmett laughs heartily, kissing his husband. They both turn and kiss the cheek of their four-year-old son, Benny, who sits happily between them.

"Don't worry, Benny," Emmett grins, "Daddy and Daddy will never embarrass you with those weird, straight type of stories!"

"All our poor kids are going to be scarred," Pete grins.

"No, they're not," Charlotte smiles, chasing after her own three-year-old son. In the past few years, she's become one of my very best friends. "No more than the rest of us, and I think we all turned out pretty okay."

For a brief moment, my mind wanders to the rest of the group on that first cruise.

We still hang out with Carmen and Eli, though they're nowhere near as close to us as are Pete and Charlotte.

Irina?

Edward cut off his 'friendship' with Irina as soon as he debarked that cruise ship. Unfortunately, it took a few unanswered texts from her to him, where she claimed she wanted to rebuild their 'special friendship,' before she finally gave up. Last I heard, she was married to someone or some such.

Quil…well, Edward once accidentally mentioned he'd "bumped" into Quil at the airport the morning he flew to Washington to meet me after my mom got sick. He swears, while grinning, that he said nothing to Quil, but Quil never approached me or texted me again. Neither did Leah or Jake. Jake and Leah live in town somewhere. Quil doesn't.

"Our kids are going to be as happy and well-adjusted as we are," my mom says softly.

And as if to prove her grandmother's point, our innocent daughter places one sweet palm on either side of her father's and my cheeks.

"Granpas, Granmas, funny?"

"Yes, baby," Edward chuckles, picking up Ren's hand and kissing her palm. "Your grandmas and grandpas are hilarious."

"Aww, Edward honey," my mom says, grinning impishly at her son-in-law, "don't think we don't know what was just going on back in that cabin. You two never quit!"

"Try telling Pop that," Edward says.

"I honestly thought she was napping," my dad says. "And I thought you, Edward, were being a responsible captain and manning the boat."

"He was manning something, alright," Liz says.

By the time we're done laughing, I'm holding my stomach from the force of my chortles.

"What? What is it? What did we miss?"

Yet another one of my favorite voices approaches. No longer young, it's made somewhat gravelly and raspy by age, but I'll treasure it for as long as I can.

"Will you all stop foolin' around and be careful with that girlie there?"

This voice is a lot crabbier; even grumpy some might say, but it still means the world to both Edward and me.

"Why, just look at how all your shenanigans got her holdin' that stomach a' hers!"

Jasper shuffles slowly toward us, supported by his cane on one side and by Alice on his other. In their late eighties, they're both still as youthful and strong as can be expected. Sometimes, when I look at them, I imagine the vibrant revolutionaries they were in their youth…and I picture Edward and me like them, a few decades from now.

"Oh, sweet Bella's just fine, Jasper," Alice says, patting his arm.

"I really am, Jasper," I assure him with a smile.

"Hmph," he says in his usual, adorably ornery manner. Yet, when he smiles up at little Renee and pinches her cheek between his liver-spotted fingers, as gently as if he were pinching air, our daughter claps her hands happily.

"Nanny Ally and Pop-pop Jassy funny too!"

"Yes, they are," Edward agrees.

"Hmph," Jasper scowls. "Talkin' all that nonsense in front of this little angel."

"She's fine, Jasper," Alice reassures him yet again.

"You said Bella was fine," Jasper grumbles.

"Both Bella and little Renee are fine is what I'm saying."

"Well stop sayin' is what I'm sayin'!"

"You okay, Bella?" Edward asks, needlessly concerned, once again, at my silence.

"I'm fine, Edward." Sighing, I meet his gaze. "I'm just fine."

Because there are few ways life could get better.

OOOOO

Later that evening, after we've shared a full day of fun and sun aboard the 'Isabella,' and a few of us are at the bow of the boat, and a few are at the stern, and a few are just hanging out below deck, and our little Renee is safely tucked into bed and being watched over by one set or another of her three sets of indulgent grandparents, Edward takes my hand and guides me to the port-side of the yacht. There's a ladder leading up to a small, private deck. He curves his hands around my hips, helping me, protecting me as I ascend.

"Careful, Bella, okay? Slow down."

I chuckle. "Edward, I've got it. It's not my first time up here. And you weren't asking me to slow down when you were taking me hard- ouch!" I yelp, laughing when he smacks my behind.

When we're up top, he leads me to the railing and stands behind me. Then, he slides his arms around my waist and pulls me against him so that his chest hugs my spine. His thumbs stroke my stomach languidly, mouth brushing back and forth against my temple. For a long while, we silently gaze up at the milky stars above us.

The yacht's speakers softly play a tune; it's a beautiful one, my favorite one in the world actually, a perfect one made up of a melodious harmony of sounds that Edward once confessed was his unique way of seeing my soul.

It won a Grammy.

"We'll be at St. Thomas the next day, then St. Maarten the next, and Puerto Rico after that."

"Almost like recreating that first cruise." Sighing, I look out onto the sparkling, ebony waters before us. "Thank you, babe, for taking the time off for this trip."

"Bella, I know it took a lot of work to convince your parents to leave the tour business in Sam and Emily Uley's hands for a few weeks."

"Yeah, but I trust them."

"Me too."

The Uleys are a couple in their forties, who we hired a couple of years ago to help with my parents' expanding business. They've proven to be a godsend. With my mom's health so much better for the past couple of years, my parents have finally been able to do a lot of the things they put on hold while I was growing up and then afterward when Mom got sick.

"I can't wait to show the islands to my mom. She's so excited."

My husband's warm breath raises goosebumps along my neck and down my spine despite the evening's warmth, despite the time that's passed.

"And so am I." He splays his large hands across my stomach, stroking the round bump that's just beginning to show. "Pretty soon, we'll have to take it easy again."

"If it were up to you," I snort, "I'd be taking it easy already even though I'm not even five months along yet. And 'We'll have to take it easy again' is too many people. While I'll have to stop my hiking and exploring in a few months, you'll keep attending all your award shows and-"

"And I'll proudly bring my pregnant wife with me, just as I always do."

"Your hugely-pregnant-by-then wife."

"My hugely-pregnant-by-then wife," he echoes.

"Ass," I say, making him laugh. "By the way, you're going to have to change the name of this here yacht soon. You can call it 'Renee Elizabeth' or-"

"Nope; not changing the name of this boat. I'll buy another one first. Bella, you were supposed to say something earlier when we were making love; actually, you were supposed to shout it out as if you were on a rooftop," he teases. "You were supposed to-"

I turn in Edward's arms and gaze into his eyes. The teasing expression on his handsome face disappears. He swallows thickly.

We don't say the actual words on the daily. We're more the 'show one another on the daily' type.

"I love you too, Edward, so, so much. It's love and passion and lust and..."

He chuckles softly, cradling my stomach. "I know, Bella. Just as you know that you and Ren and this other life we've created-"

"You mean Baby Jasper."

"Or Baby Alice – the three of you are...that seven-night cruise was…"

"A seven-night cruise which ended up only being five-nights," I interrupt again.

His sea-green eyes bore into mine. "We didn't need seven nights to know."

"Because when you know…"

He doesn't finish it, and neither do I. Sometimes, words are both insufficient and superfluous. Instead, I lift myself on my toes and cover his mouth with mine, and for one long moment, our mouths meld together. Our breaths become one.

And then, Edward pulls me against his side, and together, we gaze out at the Caribbean that started it all.

THE END

A/N: Thoughts?

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Thanks so much for reading, guys. I really hope you enjoyed it. :)

New Story – The Manny – coming soon!