Rie: Right, so where were we?

Eddie: *raises his delicious eyebrow*

Rie: OH! Of course… dare I say it? You made love to Bella!

Eddie: *raises the other eyebrow and palms his crotch*

Rie: *squeaks* A LOT!

Eddie: Yeah, now, you got something to say to my readers?

Rie: Alright already. It's cool. Hey, fucktastic readers, reviewers, alerters, lurkers… Eddie ain't goin' nowhere! If it takes some time between chapters, y'all just have to forgive me. I kinda want to write Rebelward forever! I mean, seriously, do y'all ever want to have to say goodbye to him? Didn't think so.

Eddie: *nods emphatically, his bobble-cock does too*

Rie: Just rest assured our man-vamp-whatever has ten tons of sexy, sultry, southern sweetness yet to come.

Eddie: Got that right. These women know I've got stamina, staying power, the likes of which they've never seen.

Rie: Preaching to the choir, darlin'. Final word: if you're waiting for this to be complete before you review or read, please don't. Eddie really wants to hear from you.

To my two beautiful, bodacious, talented betas – Vanessarae and Viola Cornuta much crazy love and gratitude! Y'all put up with a lot (I'm totes blaming that on Eddie) and we'd be a mess without you (and they still let me make up words!).

Ta to the babes who own me and the Double Wide, you know who you are. Big smooches to AngryBadgerGirl, Vanessarae, Viola Cornuta and winterstale for general awesomeness and shout-outs.

Disclaimer: Well, no, I do not own Twilight, etc. I own a Southern bad boy vamp, his crazy clan, and a trailer in the Luxury Hollows Trailer Vista.

Suck, Bang, Blowout

Bella stretched and rolled, sighed, lightly snored, and even drooled on my chest, dampening the scattering of hair there…and it was all so fucking…cute.

As if she sensed her sloppiness sliding over me in her sleep, she drowsily stroked my pecs and kind of slipped-kissed her way up to the ropey muscles of my neck. And it was all so fucking excruciatingly arousing.

In her goddamn dozing she crawled her way on top of me until I was covered in a Bella-smelling, soft-as-satin blanket. Tittie pillows flattened on my torso, the heat from her pussy soldered to my dick, my 'nads were so close to bursting with no stimulation, just from her fucking sexy, sleeping, proximity.

It was sultry; we smelled of delicious sex.

I cooled her with my hands up and down her back, lightly of course, though those fuckers had a mind of their own and spent most of their time cupping her friggin' mouth-watering ass.

At one point, she undulated like a serpent on dunes over me. I bit so hard on my lip, willed my dick to shut the fuck up with its cry, 'She wants it, give it to her, let me in, let's fuck her now!', and arched my neck instead of my hips, ripped into the messy sheets instead of sinking into her delightfully tight channel.

After that, Bella was so fucking out of it, she didn't move a muscle for four… hours… straight. In fact, the only thing that twitched was my boner. Often.

Easing out from under her just as the grating grebes, the startled awake starlings, the motherfuckin' loud mockingbirds started their pre-sunrise nattering, I figured I'd better get something a bit more satisfying to eat especially as I didn't want to leave Bella's pussy unattended for the next couple of days.

Standing at the bar's sink in the sitting room, I rushed through a redneck bath – pits, cock, balls, face.

My cock and balls wanted more attention, but I wasn't about to yank it now I finally had Miss Bella in my bed.

In the wakening forest leading to Beachwalker County Park, I stealthily demolished a family of bobcats and three white-tailed deer while eagles, osprey, and turkey vultures circled overhead, oscillating specks against the pastel morning sky. Jealous of my kills and predatory instincts, no doubt. Owls that were settling to sleep screeched at me, like I wanted their fuckin' mice anyhow. I nodded to the cunts, threateningly, and that shut 'em up.

You bet you fucking greenbacks Team DNR wasn't welcome in these here parts. Kiawah Island Natural Habitat Conservancy was all about protecting the wildlife population. For what? So the upperclass, middle-aged, Amex-wielding wankers of this top-notch, poncey-protected atoll of affluent assholes could wave their golf clubs at the alligators encroaching the eighteenth hole?

I buried the carcasses after throwing out a fair share of meat to the carrion-lovin' buzzards and birds of prey; I didn't want to alarm the goody-two-shoes, do-gooder conservators.

Yeah, I unapologetically made a healthy dent in the protected fauna. Even snagged me a juvenile gator–as ever, that was some good drinkin' of a cold-blooded reptile. I coulda' been sorry, but hell, man-vampire-whatever couldn't survive on pussy alone. Trust. I'd tried and tested that theory through the night, and Bella's pretty, pink pussy was testament to that.

She'd already had a room service breakfast by the time I got back and whatever it was smelled rank… glotty eggs or something, by the stench of it. No matter, I was certain I could get the sex-pheromones worked up quickly to mask the foul food's skank-ass scent.

She was also dressed, and I wasn't having that. I started shedding my clothes as soon as the door swung back on its automatic hinge. Reaching around lightning fast, I hooked the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob, and finished releasing my… knob. Bella relinquished the monogrammed linen napkin, relished the sight of my cock, my chest, my salacious smile. Wide and brown like the doe I'd just snacked on, Bella's eyes rapidly swifted to lust-ridden darkness.

"Clothes off, now," I demanded, pacing closer, naked as a fuckin' blue jay.

Standing, pushing the winged chair back with her legs, Bella eyed me up starvingly, startlingly sensual and teasing me, "Why? You still hungry?" She leaned her head to the side so her clean, shiny hair brushed a shoulder bared from the loose neck of her oh-so-old t-shirt. Even baggy, the top couldn't hide the color and stiffness of her nipples, proud and wanton.

I drew in a ragged breath and pushed my fingertips all along her neck, the pump-pump-pump of life and blood and lo-… life thrilling me.

"Yeah, damn near addled with wanting to sink my lips to your slit," My smirk hardened when I skirted my palms down her chest, shredding the shirt as I went. "Now, skirt off, unless you want me to destroy that, too."

She gestured me away and bent from her waist, breasts hanging low, nipples like dancing pendulums. Strike-strike-strike, they swayed. I held my open hands, flat, just below the juts so they scraped across my palms tenderly.

Fucking Jesus Christ!

Skirt gone, no panties, A-motherfuckin'-men!, Bella rose and joked through surges of breath, her hands following her eyes all up and down me, "Hell, Eddie, you weren't kidding about being ready." She stroked my cock in one fist, squeezing, fingering the ring right under my head until I started shaking, and I had to grab her hair and perfect friggin' waspish waist before I fell over. "What'd you do? Take Cialis?" Aw, fuck, she been talkin' to Paw?

Even while she clapped a hand to my ass, pulling me closer, I felt her muttering against my lips, "Erectile dysfunction, malfunctioning man, virile vampire…"

I pulled away from the breath of her kitten-kiss, "This ain't dysfunction, love." I worked my dick in and out of her cylindrical hold, "My cock is highly functioning, just like the rest of me. You just ain't used to a real man."

I leaned to lay on a nice, deep, saucy French kiss and she laughed in front of our lips' greedy pull, "You mean vampire."

Enough of this anathema, I needed the panacea of her pussy. Right. Fucking. Now.

I grasped her plump derriere, raided and ransacked her mouth, took her feet out from under her and sat her right down in the chair she'd almost overturned a couple minutes ago.

It seemed not being able to read her mind was a good thing, because now my shaft was bobbing straight in her face and I wasn't the only one still hungry.

Pointing her tongue from frenulum to tip, over and over and over again, Bella gripped me hard at the base of my dick, tangling in my sex-hair and twisting to stave off any wayward ejaculation.

I wound long, luscious lengths of her hair around one forearm, like a rein, and held on for dear fuckin' life, grunting, "Bella! You're killing me."

She released my wet length, ran her hands up and down, spreading her juices until I was good and sodden all over, and looked up at me with all the carnal capriciousness she possessed, "You're already dead, babe."

With that she sucked me, kissed and licked me, murmured and 'Mmmm'd' all over my cock.

Twining her tongue around me, like viney jasmine, she took me to the back of her throat and just beyond where the ring of her muscle tightened around the tip of my dick. Shaking legs made it an effort to remain upright. My sinews strained, my thighs were mighty, my tendons stretched, my nuts like bolts, my stomach stitched in and out as each muscle clenched with every tickle and tonguing motion.

My groin pounded closer and closer to her fuck-goddess lips.

"FUCK! Bella, I'm going to fall over."

A slither off my shaft and she turned us so I was propelled down to the chair, "Then you best sit down, Eddie."

Her grin was so out-of-this-world ardent, knowing. Her lips engorged from tasting me.

She laughed and lipped up the gem of venom sliding across the top of my cock.

Holy hell in a handbasket, or something more manly, did Bella have the opposite of lockjaw or something? Fuckin' sure felt like it because immediately her mouth was wide open so I felt all of her heat but little of her touch, which was a freaky feat because I had me some girth. Pure phallic persecution.

I jerked my hips up and moaned.

I think I even begged for her to wrap her lips around me, trap my cock in her mouth, and make me cum.

I grabbed the ledge of the drop-leaf side table and broke it off.

I smoothed her shoulders, her chin, her lowered eyelashes, and skipped my fingers across her freckled nose until, finally, she laved me with renewed lustiness.

Then I just fell back, raised my hips, and felt.

Nothing, fucking mother-lovin' nothin' had ever felt this good!

Mindless, I heard slurps and moans. Her thumbs dented into my muscles, as much as they'd give.

She rolled my balls like dice at a craps table.

She smiled all over me.

So fucking full of life!

It was the glint in her eyes; pride, pleasure, fun, that did my nut in. A cup of my balls, a tangle in my nest of hair, a tug of my dick and a slick suction right at the swollen-bright head, over and over, a slice of her teeth against first one and then the other of the blue-raised rivulet veins of my lower abdomen, and I exploded like Mount Saint Helens!

I wondered, abstractly, if woman could survive on poison-spunk alone.

Still breathless and groaning, I managed a laugh because Bella looked like a nut-filled chipmunk, her cheeks convex with my seed. I stroked her throat and aided my own brand of jack down into her belly, our looks mingling, our eyes alight.

Backhanding her mouth, Bella gave a final swallow and doubled over in laughter.

Again, not exactly the reaction I was looking for, but better than three Hail Marys and the sign of the cross and a spritz of Holy Water, I supposed.

Sitting back on her heels, her legs spread, her hands on my thighs, she spoke, "Sorry, baby, that was a lot! I don't think I'll need to eat for a week."

Okay, I guess that answered my question.

I stood and swept Bella up in my arms. My dick hit her butt all the way to our bedroom.

Arranging her on the bed, I halted to watch her writhe. Beautiful. The springy mattress caved beneath me as I made my way over her. Her wrists inside my fists were clapped down to the duvet above her head. Her hair, curling and moist from her shower, was of Medusa…a bowery of reptiles.

She moved curvilinearly, her tits toppled and bounced.

I leaned low to lick. Bite.

Her back bowed, her hips rounded up, and kept circling, searching, insatiable.

My fat, long, heavy cock slapped against her thigh. She jostled closer and jested, "Damn, baby, that really is some turn-around time." I spread her knees, curled her fingers around the edge of the eiderdown, and lapped from her cleavage to navel. Tickling her with my pursed lips at her nadir, just above her clit, I moved my lips from one hip to the other and she sighed deliriously, "You sure you don't take Viagra?"

I laid my cheek on her tum and drummed her clit with my thumb, "This beef is free-range, all organic, all natural–least as natural as a vampire gets. Wanna' test it for hormones?" I quirked an eyebrow, Bella cocked a hip, and I was inside the succulent petite home her hasty helixes made about me.

Blissfully begging me to shut my gob, Bella's fingers stoked my mouth; she was all musk, messed up with me inside her, "Don't talk to me about your free-range ways, baby." Her hands joined in my hair, her mouth drove against mine and she whispered, "You're mine now."

Pulling her up to me, I snuck to her neck, her ear, her lips.

It was slow, this fucking.

I could go on for-fuckin'-ever.

Keeping my pace, at the edge of the bedstead, pushing it steadily closer to the loge opened to the spring's humidity, I just loved being inside of her and watching her swoon backwards, elegantly, decadently.

"Ah, Oh my… God-Eddie!" Oh, that was an improvement, sort of.

There was sweat, the renewal of our sex, and wetness spreading all over.

I couldn't stop.

I came once, Bella twice with sharp twists and jerks into me.

I continued to rub her nub against me, agitating her.

At one point, she nabbed her lower lip from beneath my suckling deep kiss and tore a crimson path across that bow.

Pouting, she held it out to me.

I ceased all movement. Steadied myself, readied, and licked the ribbon of claret love leaking from her.

Bringing her closer by my biceps, I groaned and closed her cut and stayed my gyrating cock.

It leapt and shook inside Bella's crevasse.

I fingered her ass, the cleft and hills and her hands-full of hips.

I'd controlled myself.

There was a radish red sex rash raping Bella's chest and blooming across her tits.

Looking down to where we were joined -- slick, wet, cold, hot, hard, soft, suck, thrust – I decreed, "I don't think I can stop."

I hadn't been inside a woman since some debutante named Cacky. And that was a weird mishap. Khaki was a color, for fuck's sake, not a name! The savage Old Village wedding planner kept stopping to repair seams on her shirt, and scrapes to her knees – while I'd fucked her from behind, she on her knees on a rough Palmetto rug – with the first-aid kit she kept tucked in her cleavage or some such shit.

Village idiot.

The coarseness of my touch, my chest and legs and thighs and arms to her suppleness, malleability, and womanly strength, I kept going inside Bella. My cock steadily growing. My voice rumbling, growling.

"Oh!" Bella exclaimed.

"How's about I just lay you down? Can I stay inside you?" I was such a selfish bastard, and I didn't give a fuck, I just needed to keep my cock in her. Fuck me; she could sleep with it like a pacifier to her twat. I didn't care.

Her quim quivered around my dick in currents and replenished arousal.


Oh Jesus!

I tried not to move. I watched her breathing slow as the pulse in my dick ramped up.

Her cheeks relaxed. Her body became a stole around me.

I smiled.

This was somethin' fuckin' else.

Forty minutes later, she roused. I hadn't budged. "You're still inside." She snuggled closer, pulled the padded, frigid muscles over my ribs, ran her hands backwards over my ass and lower to where my cock nestled inside her.

"Hmmm," I shifted my hips. Our bodies dovetailed. Our arrangement effortless and near silent and slow and lovely and… wondrous.

Turning, making sure not to rip my dick from my groin, she gripped me with her legs and her flesh, "Know what I like?"

"Tell me." I wanted to know.

"You're cold yet soft." SOFT? I balked, winced. She laughed, "Not like that, Eddie."

No, not like that. My hardness sidled against her again, as if to make sure.

"Hard," she lunged, taking me deeper. "Filling," Bella twisted her entire body. A dragon woman, she dragged me under until I had her tossing around the bed like one, singular, white wave of depraved senses!

We burned.

Joined, arched, held hands, sawed, seesawed, the seaweed of her hair snagged and snarled and caught just like our voices in shouts undecipherable.

A crash!


Away. Together. Tighter than ever.

Even I wanted a snooze after that.

If this was what I gained after a catnap, I was all for forty winks.


Later, because we were at a premier seaside resort, Bella insisted we spend a few hours on the beach instead of behind closed doors. I only relented because Bella in a bathing suit wasn't something I'd turn my nose up at – maybe my cock, but not my nose.

I wandered around naked a bit, pretending to look for my trunks, just to see if I could get another blow job out of her but she was intent on stuffing a bag with magazines, towels, and bottles of water.

She changed in the bathroom and came out in some sort of terrycloth romper that hugged her ass like my hands were dying to do. Bare-chested, I had on a pair of board shorts that sat so low on my lean hips the carving of my lower abs and a healthy dose of my pleasure trail was apparent.

Bella almost dropped her tote and sagged against the back of the chaise longue.

Might get some head after all!

Or not. Blushing and looking away from me, Bella grabbed the keycard and we made our way down the boardwalk to the oceanside. Heat blasted off the sand and crashing waves like the very pits of Hell–and by the looks of the fat, foreign fuckers in their Speedos with their tiny chicken nuggets packed inside under a few rolls of paunch, this was definitely one circle of Purgatory.

Those obese bastards were accompanied by leather-fleshed females with saggy, cottage cheese asses and dimply bosoms. My boner beat a hasty retreat.

Shoving the beach umbrella so far down in the sand even Hurricane Hugo or his lesser known bro Tropical Storm Gaston would be hard put to blast the bastard out of the dunes, I dusted off my hands and winked at my giggling girlfriend. "You know, with skills like that, you could probably get a job here," she laughed.

And then she took that jumper-thingy off and I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and focused on the fat cunts again, "You know, in a bathing suit like that, I think the only job I want, right now, is a hand job, Bella." I knew I was glowering, but what the FUCK was that… thing she had on? Yeah, I'd wanted to see Bella in a bikini, but that was… what was that? Flustered, I flapped my hands at her, and stared more, glared at her ample tits, and then grinned and looked for about another two minutes, give or take.

Ignoring my reaction, as if she couldn't see the massive erection I was suddenly sporting, she coiled her hair into some kind of frothy confection on top of her head and merely smiled at me. With a groan, I restrained myself just enough to skim along the scant, melted-buttercup-yellow–because it had to be yellow, right? Just like the dress my dick still dreamed about–material that dipped between her tits, pretty much baring everything but her nipples. I ate up the panorama of the sweet sides of her bust and stuck a finger on the downside of her tits, feathering the secret little hold of flesh there. And fuckin' malignant Mother of God, those bottoms? Gaddamn handkerchiefs. Triangular bits of fabric tied together – TIED for fuck's sake – over her rounded hips. "Shit, Bella, did they run out of material or something when they made that… that… fuck."

I hung my head and shuffled my feet, stepping closer so my chest met her tits, and she smiled, "It's called a bikini, Eddie."

She ran her hands up and down my arms then hugged me loosely, kissing my Adam's apple. Were we done with this beach thing yet?

Apparently not. Bella bent over–not a wise move with my cock so close to the teeny fuckin' bikini–and began rummaging through her bag, coming up victoriously with a tube of–let it be lube, let it be lube, my lewd inner-beast cajoled–sunscreen.

Sunscreen would work if it meant I could get my hands on her.

She poured the tropical-smelling white stuff into my hand and turned away so I could slather her with the protectant. I made sure to give her a good massage she wouldn't forget, paying special attention to the swell of her hips, the indent of her waist, the perfect divots above her bottom. Down her frontside, I played with her tits a bit more than was prudent in public, and dragged my fingers along her inner thighs, watching her eyes droop the closer I got to her pussy. Heightening her desire, I finished by lightly brushing the backs of my fingers around her covered slit.

She recovered slowly, like the way she woke from sleep, rolling her hips, her shoulders back so her tits were further pronounced, and raising her arms above her head, which made another direct invitation to her mounds.

"Your turn," she grabbed the tube and beckoned me to the blanket.

Scratching along my sideburns I explained, "You know I don't really need that shit, right?"

"Don't matter, baby. It's the only way I can touch you, decently, in front of all these people."

Ding Dong!

She worked up and down my back first, pressing right down below the waistband of my shorts until I moaned and my body was motioning her lower, down my ass and to my balls.

Her lips at my ear commanded, "Roll over, Eddie."

Fuck, she musta' known about my dick's Pavlov dog trick, because it jerked at the summons and sighed heavily against my crotch.

Straddling me, leaning over, she practically smothered me with her tits but I didn't need to breathe and anyway, I'd happily suffocate inside her cleavage even if I did, so I wasn't complaining.

I 'bout pulled the thick canvas umbrella down over us when she pressed her fingers into my abs, tracing the slice of each muscle. Moaning, I kissed the insides of her breasts and silently pleaded with her to just jerk me off right quick.

Instead, Bella leapt of me and declared, "Done! Let's go for a walk."

We swept our feet through the silty sand, turned over slimy, green-frilled leaves of seaweed, holding hands. Beachcombing, shell collecting. What the fuck? The only nautilus I wanted to see was tucked away inside that bikini designed by the devil himself. And that wasn't happening because Bella kept slapping away my badly-behaved hands. If those appendages were rebellious, my dick was downright delinquent; my prick needing to perpetrate public indecency in the worst way.

Kids hollered and raced after sandpipers and scavenging gulls, fowl that was much too small to interest me; the kids and birds both. The Atlantic tried to catch us in its warm foam, and once I threw Bella down to a tepid tidal pool, flicking away hermit crabs so I could suck her nipples underwater for a couple minutes.

Though I felt just agreeably warmed, Bella was hot. She decided to go for a swim. I eschewed the water to watch her beachside. I barely saw her slim, sexy body cut like a knife into the water before mingy sand mites started trying to take nips from me. Right. I swear, the mangy, flea-ridden pelicans with their big jaws like impersonators of Dickhead-Cheney were in collusion with the mouthy seagulls to keep near-nekkid Bella from my sights.

Fuck this.

I stood, and ignored the voyeuristic imaginings aimed my way by the gathered flock of gelatinous-fleshed strumpets nearby. I'd just have to take a dip myself. Lucifer knew I wanted a dip. Not of snuff and not in the water, most definitely in something hotter, but I'd take what I could get.

A few grumpy kids hid behind their mommas when I scowled at their architecturally unsound sandcastles. Then there was a Mensa-wannabe with the turrets so precisely placed about the garrison it was like she was channeling that shit straight from the Volturi's hold-out in Italy. I winked at her, tipped my head to her mom, and made sure to raise up some draughts of water to the sociopathic, shitheaded ten-year-olds bent on toppling her fortress. An underhanded snarl made sure the cunty little creeps left her alone in her construction.

Salty water licked up my calves, to my thighs, to my dick… to Bella. She was alternately body-surfing and floating on her back and both actions had me worried for the state of her tits in the diaphanously negligible top. I held her up with a hand on the keys of her spine and leant over to kiss the crusting salt from her lips.

Thank ye cunts the manatees didn't make it up this far north because I couldn't do with another heifer flipping me off like the seaworthy cow in the Glades. Dolphins turned right off as soon as they smelled me. Good. Same goes for you too, sharks. That's right, I thought, top of the food chain here so keep your distance. Fuckin' dare ya' to bite me, I'll break your jaw for you. I snapped my teeth at a school of fish and brought Bella up around my waist.

"I'm starting to prune, Eddie," she mentioned, and wrinkles on her rich flesh would just be wrong so I dropped her to her feet and towed her from the depths. Turning around, I knew my mistake instantly.

Slinky Bella in that kinky, minuscule, wet bikini was damn near pornographic; she was glorious! Botticelli, gore your eyes out. My mouth was dry, my eyes hard-wired to her tits that looked about ready to topple out of the now-sheer, stingy top, not to mention her pointed nipples that were just begging to be sucked. My voice was goddamn squeaky when I asked, "Love, you want a towel?" Or my dick, or my body, or for me to beat some of these filthy fuckin' beachgoers up?

"Nah, I'll just dry off in the sun." Yup, that was my girl. Au naturel and way too fuckin' sexy for her own good.

I wanted to wet-dock my cock in her canal.

She lay down, relaxed, basking in the sun like an anole. Covered in the swept-up glitter of flinty sand, Bella sparkled under the rays. And just like she had at that fateful Strawberry Festival, she took on the shimmery image of one of my own. I paid homage to my woman by giving the stink-eye-snarl combination to any shyster who even glanced at her. The number of skank-asses leaving snail trails of lust over her trebled when she untied the back of her belittling bikini top. Wait. What? Was this a nudie beach? I looked around and the answer was 'Hell No'.

"You want your cover-up, love?" Yes, please say yes.

"No," her muffled voice answered, "I'm fine."

That you are, I nodded as did my bobble-cock and about ten men and twenty birds.

I sat up, shifted, unable to get comfortable. I needed either a fuck or a feast and Captain D's wasn't going to cut it.

Just the brilliant brown of one eye over one arm looked at me, her lips curved, "Sit still, baby. You got ADHD or something?"

I smeared piles of sand and motes in between, comparing my shitty compilation to the parapets that little girl had made earlier, "No."

I could still if I wanted to, right? I'd done it last night when I really, really, wanted to just fuck her a few more times.

"My dick's hard as a stalagmite, and it's uncomfortable. You're not helping with your top half-off," oh Christ, was I whining about my throbbing boner? Was I pouting? I just wanted to pound her, redistribute the eroding sand around her body while I -

Bella caressed my knee and halted my rant, "Poor thing, you want something soft and snug to sink into? Something wet and tight?"

Yeah. I made fast time packing our shit up and piggy-backing her back up to the hotel.

Soft, snug, sensual solace.


We sat Indian-style on the bed that had seen a few more romps, as had the desk chair, the double-wide, claw-footed tub… as well as the bar and the smoked-glass coffee table in the parlor. I'd had to be extra cautious on that brittle, slippery surface, but watching Bella ride me while our skin slid across the glass was well worth it.

Now I was in my boxer-briefs and Bella wore one of my t-shirts. She pressed her nose to the ribbed collar and breathed deeply, "Maw still doing your laundry?"

I reclined back, "Yeah, unless you're offering?"

Out of nowhere, Bella belted me with a huge feather pillow! And I just boomed with laughter. She made me foolish. I hadn't felt this way since… I hadn't felt this way ever.

Shaking my head, I reached over and brought our hands together, freely.

My libertine woman asked, "What?"

I sat tall and pulled away.

There was so much to tell, to make her know… I was going to Hell.

"We have to talk."

"You talk a lot, baby. You don't often tell me what I need to know though," levity left the room with her crisp counter.

Stroking her thighs, I tried to remember, Bella was here because she wanted to be. She understood at least half the truths, and she still wanted me.

I nursed a near-empty beer and made a go of showing her the ghost I was.

"It's not just us."

Her brow furrowed, she plucked out the cotton from her hips – I couldn't help myself. If I just leaned over and looked down I would be face-to-face with her lovely landing strip.

Cross-legged, aching, and wanting her to be alright with all this bullshit, I started, "There's royalty."

Bella pounded the bed, her hilarity would soon be histrionic, I knew it. "Queen of the Damned and all that?"

There were pleading creases all over my face; she needed the facts, "Not a queen. A blackguard king." It stripped me bare to say his name, like mentioning the Sandman, "Aro. He murdered his half-sister, Didyme, because she loved another."

She sat up rigidly, "That's a bit incestuous, isn't it? Good to know it's not just a hillbilly institution." Then she became as straight as that beach umbrella pole I'd shoved down to the Earth's mantle, "He's not a Southerner too, is he?"

The laugh I gave was harsh, "No, love. They're Italian."


I felt like I needed to wipe perspiration from my brow, but there weren't any fuckin' secretions, just the tingle of terror that Bella was going to leave me after another bizarre helping of truth, "Yeah, three of them, a triumvirate of tyranny: Aro, Marcus, Caius. Our man Marcus was in love with Didyme, her allegiance to the lesser vampire frightened the lily-livered, parchment-faced fuck. So mad-hatter Aro murdered her one night when they were out doing their Nazi thing – ridding the countryside of rogue vampires. Extermination, genocide… if you didn't play by the Volturi's rules to keep the bloodsucking secret society hush-hush, they'd fucking have your head. Auto de fé that ended in dismemberment, and embalming by fire."

"Their names are a bit contrived, aren't they?" She was grasping at straws, trying not to see that this thing I was, this cretinous creature was just as capable of horror as those three brothers.

Chuckling, I joked, "I usually just call them The Brothers Grimm. Or, you know, Asshole, Mingus, and Cuntus. But their names are in keeping with their creation. It's said they were not turned, not like the rest of us, but born to this un-life, in 1000 BC."

Bella gasped and rolled the limp, sex-smelling sheet into a ball at her feet, "Jesus, and I thought you were old!"

"Unrivaled, unbreakable, untouchable, ancient. Like most of our breed, they're people eaters." Her eyes flitted to mine in shock and disgust. Good. Her nose wrinkled, her lips curled. "I've had human blood too."

She nodded and shrank away from me, only a smidgen, before she realized what she was doing and came back to touch my fingertips with hers, marveling at this gory beast, this horny man, this undying vampire in front of her.

"And all this matters because…?"

"You've been made out to be my death, in their tomes, or my deliverance to them. The trio of twats have always wanted to get their sallow talons in me; see, I can read minds pretty much effortlessly and from a distance. Aro has the same gift, but he must be touching the person whose mind he's raping. They pride themselves on their collections: art, architecture, kingdoms, people, talented vampires like me, like Alice," Bella reached for my beer and finished it off with a thirsty glug, I reached over to the cooler and brought out two more.

"I'm the one that got away. The canary to the cat."

"Ha ha ha, Tweety to Sylvester?" Bella choked on a mouthful of brew.

"Something like, yeah," I grinned at my woman, who never failed to surprise me. "From what we can find out from Malcontent Malice, you're prophesied to be my like kind, kindling to my ashes. It's why I tried so fucking hard to stay away from you, love."

Swallowing down more PBR, just the way she'd swigged my cum earlier, she looked vital, avid for more information which I gave against my will; "They'll want you too."

"What do you mean, they'll want me? Why? I'm no more than a senior in high school whose boyfriend is one of the cool kids," innocence winged across her features, nesting into a frown.

Fading more and more pale, Bella tented my 't' down around her legs that she'd brought up close to her body, her chin resting on her knees and her arms caging her like a bear trap. She stretched the hell right out of my shirt, and this was the first time I wasn't tenting my briefs at the vision of her in my clothing, knowing I wouldn't throw the gray short-sleeves into my laundry bag come warshing day at Maw's. I thought I should maybe get her a giant tumbler of sweet tea topped off with ten tablespoons of sugar to amp up her hummingbird heart again, but all I did was stroke her cheek with the back of hand, trying to bring her color back.

"First, they'd change you."

"Whoa. Hold up! Make me one of you?" she jabbed a finger at me and damn near gave me 'the hand'.


"So they're really out to get you, and they'd use me as a pawn," she wondered.

"There's Alice as well," I muttered.

Bella rolled her eyes, took a drink, and kidded, "She's a bit of a crazy bat, huh."

I adjusted myself, and not very subtly. Bella's flush was back and the shirt was skirting up her knees–if she just widened her legs a touch more, the succulent sight of her muff would soothe my gruffness that littlest bit. "Crazy old battleaxe, more like."

"So you're all really dead and old as-"

"Dirt," I finished for her.

Nodding, she asked, "What about Rose and Bubba? Jazz?"

"Old-timey, ashes, and even older."


"Reborn in the 1640's."

"So, a medieval, middle-aged-wannabe vampire," she snorted and ran patterns into the quilt with her bare feet.

"Maw's actually younger than me, this go 'round," I supplied.

"Okay, now that is kinda' creepy," Bella laughed.

"But Alice, the Undead Druid, she knows things. And it ain't just random. She can see you and me. Aside from that, the Volturi want her as well–our powers are twinned. If we opened up to each other, we might-could become unstoppable."

Bella's ballerina-beautiful arched feet stopped moving, "She's running too."


"Queero woulddo anything to have me, and you, my girlfriend," I paused to tap the fullness of her mouth, to smile sadly, "the only person whose mind I cannot read, a woman I want to protect,"–I left out the obvious fact she was the chick I wanted to fuck from dusk 'till dawn and all the hours in between, because that was a given, "you, Bella, would be used as a weapon against me."

She huddled deeper into my shirt and clung to her knees like a drowning person to a lifeboat, "The shield that's your mind is a snare against me. You'd probably go right to the top of the Most Wanted List if they found out about you, and me." I chuckled with no feeling of flippancy, "Some fucker's got a sick sense of humor, to make you my singer, my woman, and the only one whose thoughts are barricaded against me. It's fucking perfect. Aro couldn't have planned it better himself!"

Her voice bled with sobriety, "Because I'm going to be your -"

I wanted to say something flowery, pretty, poetic. Something tender to express the kernel of liveliness she'd planted inside of me, but I couldn't because any mention of the interred Italians scared the ever-lovin' shit out of me, especially now.


She shook her head and shots of sun made it halo-like, she grabbed my shoulders and leapt into my lap and clasped my cheeks, "Don't you say that, Eddie. No matter what happens, don't you ever say that."

Abusing my neck with kisses and fingerling brushes, she wanted more and more and more, "You said you're the one that got away."

Brushing her hair between my fingers, appealing to the tip of her ear, I did not want to go here. "Chelsea."

"A woman," the flatness of her tone was precise.

"One of their henchwomen. Yes." I pushed into the upper hills of her ass and ground her against me enough she could feel, this is what she did to me…no other, no one, not anymore.

"A succubus. Like Sekhmet, a scarlet lady, the goddess of bloodlust." As soon as I said the augury word, she stilled.

"Lethal, cunning bitch can cut the ties of family, the bonds of fraternity, the chains of… love. She made me a marionette, with Aro the puppeteer. And they didn't have to take me away from my family because I went on my own, on immured, sleepwalking feet. From England to Italy, to their castle, to their den, destined to become one of their depraved followers. Possibly a prince among dead." I shook my head to erase that time and those images and Chelsea's greedy, growling, groaning, initial ambush–all it had taken to jettison me from filial union was her body in a dance of erotic proportions.

I was ruled by my cock.



"How did she take you?" Bella's elbows bellowed out and her lips no longer walked over my flesh.

"It wasn't like that."

"She seduced you," she was too persistent, too perceptive.

"Love, it didn't take much back then," I worried over her reaction, and revived… I was telling her about my kidnapping and near total death, and here she was getting jealous and scrappy?

Her emotions were as skewed as mine towards her!

"Being bound by Chelsea was like being in a coma. No, not a coma, not unconsciousness. It was being atrophied inside of locked-in syndrome. A blink took an effort I was incapable of. Telling her, telling them, 'no' was beyond me. Yet I heard it all, their plans, I understood the mass destruction of my family that would come to apocalypse at my hands."

Hugging me hard, she invoked for more, for this to finish.

I couldn't look at her.

"Back then it was just me--a time when I still went by Edward--Carlisle, Emmett, and Esme. Carl came from England for me." I swallowed hard, my voice monotone with unreleased emotion, "They had me in their stony chamber, where they'd once received us as treacherous, gracious hosts years previously. Aro was reaping all he could from my body… all my thoughts and everything anyone had ever imagined in my presence. His thin-skinned dermis jolting with the ampoules of my memories… he was afire before me. His beady, beetley, flinty eyes glowing, his knowledge and omniscience growing. Two of his loutish lads held down my arms, his tiny charmed one, Jane, watched with sadistic merriment, wondering if she'd get the chance to electrocute me again with her vile supernatural ability. Stupid fuckin' pie-face Alec clapped; friggin' flamer."

I needed to hold Bella, to just have her around me and on top of me… my lodestone, my savior, my sanity and sanctity.

She embraced me more closely and whispered, "Go on, baby."

"There'd be no blood, but my venom was going to fill their filthy coffers, more ludicrous lucre. Aro would use me, alive or dead. The Promethean-punk-ass-fuck had become a mad scientist. Victor Frankenstein had nothing on him. If I died while he starved me of my visions, he'd simply take my poison to his laboratory."

Quivering and silent, Bella's tears warmly wetted the base of my throat like blood.

I breathed deeply of her fragrance. Bella was here, Bella was listening. Bella was real.

"Master race. We would be no more than lab rats if we didn't capitulate. If we don't surrender. For the second time, Carl came to my call. His hands opened–he always purported, I'm a lover, not a fighter –and he was a wily warrior. His voice charismatic, Carl had halted the festivities falling about my fried frame, "STOP." It was as if he sent the devilish dickheads to the time-out corner. My stomach hurting, I'd keeled over. Then he went all John-fuckin'-Wayne, "You want him? You gotta get through me, old friend," he'd addressed Asshole.

I'd wiped my eyes and looked for Ol' Dollor to come galloping up to save us from this abattoir. I didn't hear hooves, just Carl's barter, "Take my poison, Aro, old man. You've always wanted to know how I could survive as a doctor, leaving my rancid, bleeding patients intact. Take as much as you want."

"NO!" I'd shouted, the hasp of my voice, my throat so dry, like razors.

Carl commanded me quietly, forcefully, "Yes. Your mother would hang my dick out to dry, son, if I didn't own you thus."

Esme, Elizabeth, my namesake, and my sire… my brother Emmett… I'd caused this commotion.

"Cheerfully, Aro had set up sinister-looking paraphernalianeedles, test tubes, shiny glass and silver sharp instruments. The tête-à-têtes of his handmaidens and whores were like glee club cheers."

I wanted done with this! I wanted tit-on-tit. I wanted Bella to understand I didn't sleep in a casket, but my heart had been a grave before her. I held on for dear death… my woman queen.

"Gathering my wits, I'd been too weakened to stop Aro from tearing into Carl's wrists. He was faster than Zeus, a thunderbolt, a black mamba. The lesion

opened and spilled acid-like drops in a quickening drip-drop-drip to the test tube."

I stopped, resituated Bella against my long, pulsing pole so I could shunt against her. She draped over me but wasn't distracted enough.

She wanted more.

"Cunt-ass Curtis, Caius, whatever-the-fuck, was definitely a faggot though. I caught him checkin' out Homo-'Ro's slack-ass inside his sackcloth. Back-hole, backhoe-Black Hole diving dipshit."

Bella giggled and cuddled closer.

"They have our essence, they have our secrets. They don't own us." I snagged her hair and watched the falling sun outside our balcony.

"They won't stop, Bella."

This was just too friggin' much.

Still, she moved, turned, took off her shirt, my shirt.

Our chests met, I cupped her breasts, washing away the filth of my past with her skin beneath mine.

Slick tongues, terrific want, all our undoings, Bella didn't stop, "And Jacob? The wolves?"

Lifting her slim body, guiding her down over me, I slowly filled her, "Not even Aro can penetrate their thoughts." I lunged up into her, watching her tempestuous tits bob until I stopped them mid-sway with my tongue on her. Thumbs branding her aureoles, soaking in the sight of her rearing up and riding me, I pulled her mouth to mine.

She braced back on my thighs, rolled her hips, "They're just boys, Eddie."

"Me… too…" I grunted.

Our fingers grabbed, settled, slipped, like my cock, her mouth, "The therianthropic, metamorphosing loup-garu can kill us."

Brandishing my cock inside of her, I loved it when Bella moaned, "Ooooh." Intimately gliding against me, hugging me with one arm while the other stretched behind her like she was balancing on a wild horse, she exhaled, "He wouldn't."

In each others laps, sinking, plundering, sighing, my dick voracious, "Your Cajun crew…" my balls got heavy with a ripple of pussy-flesh flexing around me, "those… wargs… volatile… oh fuck… can kill us, loogaroo."

She touched my temples, I feathered across the moist habitat of her back, a vague horizon just turning gold from the afternoon sun in our room, from our play on the beach. I wanted to keep her naked, vertical, horizontal, or fuckin' sitting on top of me, wrapping her legs around me.

I wanted to keep her safe.

I wanted to keep her.

I wanted her.

I wanted.

We slowed down. "Why don't you really tell me why you went on up to Myrtle Beach, Eddie?"

Constricted with desire, I could barely speak anymore. Bella took my silence for guilt, "Please tell me you didn't go to a strip joint up at Surfside Beach."

"What? No. You think I'd leave you like that just to go to a titty bar? Besides, Southern Belle is just downtown." Bella sensuously slid her fingers into my hair, and then yanked hard–I knew I shouldn't, but I fuckin' liked it. Her voice was fatal as she nipped my earlobe, "Go to the Suck, Bang, Blow biker hangout?"

"Huh?" Jesus H. motherfuckin' Cocksucker, she just had to say Suck Bang Blow. I was about to blow my wad, and she was blowing her top, "Can I just say you're killing me here, Bella?"

My mouth tasted the nebula of freckles lighting across her nose and cheeks, I pushed her to the bed, my movements harder, more rugged, so fuckin' ready, "Three Volturi trackers were on their way to Mt. Pleasant." I hauled her calves around my waist and waited just at the entrance of her hot snatch, my cock throbbing, until she cried out, pressed up, "And?"

Fingers in the crazy rat's nest of her tresses, squishing her tits together, "We ended them."

Her hands molded to my shoulders, and she plumped my lips with her tongue, "Eddie I… OH, yes, YES-GOD-YES!"

I touched her arched neck with the edge of my teeth, I cursed God again for making me share the limelight, and then I was gnashing, panting, dying, "Bella, Bella, I-"


While I cooled her well-fucked body, paying special attention to her pussy, silting through the fine flickers of soft hair, and her shapely breasts, Bella heated me up, rubbing the backs of her legs over my muscled calves and thighs.

Gentled, she made a pillow of the palm of my hand, "I wish you'd trusted me enough to tell me all this earlier, to keep your secret safe."

I leant up on an elbow, watching concern glitter her eyes, "It's not about that. It's about protecting you. I can see in, you block out… we're like Yin and Yang," of course I had to reference the friggin' Taoist male and female fundamentals underpinning the Kama Sutra, because now instead of putting Bella's mind at ease, I wanted to lick her, kiss her, and maybe try out that particular Yin and Yang position. I probed her nipples with my swift motion, watching them swell and darken.

Bella snapped her fingers in my face, "Eyes up here, baby."

I took a deep breath and looked up, from her peaks to her mouth, to her eyes, "Our chemistry, our link, your blood; these all mean we were meant to be together." She nodded, pursing her lips in concentration. "The Volturi won't want us together unless we become their slaves. We're too powerful, we will be… we would be, if you were a vampire too."

I quietly asserted, "If they can't have you and me both, they'll use you to get to me."

Opening over a deep sigh, Bella swore… I couldn't ever remember her swearing before, "Fuck. You were better off without me."

"Never," I disagreed, gathering her closely, closeting her in my strength, taking from her beauty, grace, lightheartedness, courage.


"It doesn't matter. I'm still dead, but before you, I was a ghost." I laughed, "A ghost who had a fuckin' lot of fun, mind you! But I didn't really experience anything. I'm not worried about me, love." My hands swarmed around her, everywhere, as if trying to impart some sort of forcefield, "I need to protect you."

Reaching up, she kissed me until our tongues meshed, "Protect me from?"

"The murderous miscreants. The long arm of raw law. The regime of rank revenants." I waggled my eyebrows menacingly. "You know, they're so old and nasty, they're like walking cadavers."

Bella's lips lifted playfully, "Aren't y'all too?"

I tickled her sides until she squealed, "Yeah, but you know I'm all sexy-like. And I'm telling Rose you just referred to her as the walking dead."

Bella slapped at me, "You are not, Eddie Cullen!"

"Oh yeah, that a fact, Miss Swan? You and what army is gonna' stop me?"

"Me and the Mob of the Underworld? The Lords of Limbo? The Demon Dons? The armpit of inhumanity?" she started giggling and rollicking lasciviously underneath me.

"You and the crotch-rot of Campania, huh?"

She tried to break out of my manacling fingers imprisoning her to the bed, "Ew! Gross, Eddie! Way to kill the mood."

"What mood, I'm not exactly turned on talkin' about the motherfuckers who tortured me."

"Oh really," she shifted her leg so it brushed against my enormously erect jock. I smirked and settled into the caress, "You caught me."

"You've caught me, Eddie."

I fastened her hand to my chest, the cavern that was empty of my heart, "You've captured me here."


Real life was a heartless bitch. Bella had a shift at Mama's and finals to study for; I offered to tutor her, but she knew what kind of lessons I had in mind. And I needed to get back to Cainhoy to feed again, figuring a Boy Scout band of smug twats was likely to come across a resurrected mound of carcasses, or two, pretty damn soon.

In the Bronco, I turned down the music while Bella dozed. Her head was lolling against the window and even though I wondered if that little bit of banging would shake some of her thoughts loose, I rolled up an old sweatshirt to make a cushion for her. I let her sleep. I coulda felt bad, but I'd let her eat and nap at the hotel, right? I'd answered all her questions and shown her a good time.

I amused myself by collecting a few more church signs:

The key to Heaven is hanging on a nail.

What the fuck? Yeah, and I'd just nailed Bella seven ways to Sabbath, probably more.

Dust on your Bible means dirt in your life.

Went without sayin', I was a sinner.

Flee temptation and don't leave a forwarding address!

Done tried that with the Volturi, and look how well that'd worked out.

I chuckled and stretched over to gently close her mouth, running my hand over her lips and ruffling her hair when we reached the interstate. As usual, the shit was scattered with couches, lawn mowers, abandoned vehicles, and ladders. How the hell? And who needed the Indy 500 when you had the obstacle course of the lowcountry's 526?

About twenty minutes from Swan Shambles, I was halted behind a stalled-out, beat-the-fuck-up GMC Jimmy. I think my Bronco winked at it. Better than a Jeep Liberty, was its thoughts. I couldn't agree more, thinkin' of Scrawny Mike Newton's faggoty ride.

Before I could even think about getting out to push the cunt back into drive, a big beefy Ladson gal hopped out with a cig hangin' from her mouth. She soothed the beast with her large hands and strolled with her hips sway-swish-swaying. At the back, she brunted in her shoulders and singlehandedly rolled the behemoth off to the side. I wound down my window as I passed, "Atta girl!" and threw a whistle into the mix. Shit like that made me proud to be a Southerner. In the rearview mirror I caught sight of a 'Strictly Scrap' towtruck idlin' up to her–more like Strictly Crap, and you're a bit too late, mate.

I carried Bella into her house, depositing her and her bags and totes and how the hell had she ended with more shit than she'd started with? She joked about my gallantry and, appallingly, I felt like blushing and 'aw shucks'ing'.

Bringing her hands again to my chest, willing for just something to start beating within in, I kissed her languidly, angling my mouth and sliding between her lips, murmuring total fuckin' nonsense all the while.

I let her go, stepped back, doffed my camo visor, "Y'all get some rest now, Miss." I left her with a wink, and about five backwards glances.

She was flushed, grinning, and gorgeous.

But Christ in the can, when I got back to Luxury Hollows and the double wide, what should I find? Gaddamn Em, on the front room couch, in a fuckety Snuggie! Jesus Shit. He'd been to the Super Wal-Mart without me. Again. How many times had I forced him away from the plastic-wrapped, flannel bodybags? Now he'd done got one.

His delicate constitution was showin' its ass. Not to be defeated by whatever feigned bug he was now sure he had, he jumped up like a kid in a tater-sack race on Field Day and started in, "Dude! I thought you'd never get home. I saw a leaflet last night for Free Shots. 'Course I had to check it out, thinkin' I'd be getting me a B52."

Oh Holy Fuckin' Nyquil High.

"Can you believe what they tried to shoot me up with? Fuckin' H1N1 vax." He stomped his foot like a petulant child, and almost stumbled in his sleepsack. But just couldn't help thinking, "Maybe that ain't such a bad idea after all."

"Need I remind you about the whole tattooing fiasco?" I raised an eyebrow at my demented brother.

"Right, yeah, gotcha'." He slumped back to the sofa. "So, what about you? Bella really a virgin?"

I kept mum, but wanted to say, "Not anymore."

"No sloppy seconds?"

More silence.

"Well, mute motherfucker, you up for a Shake 'n Bake?"

Not sure that's what crafty Kraft had in mind, but I could do with a smoke.

Bubba rolled, I lounged.

I smoked, Bubba gestured, "Hey, sunshine, you're glowing man."

"Shut it, braw. Pretty sure that's the hashish addin' to my sweaty sheen."

~Y'all, I got a friggin' shitload of new alerts and stuff, more on that below. But you have no idea how excited me and the crew would be if you'd ALL review! (I know, really, I don't ask for much, do I?)~

**Veery important! Please alert Rebelward Without a Cause -- the outtakes for this that explore other characters -- the next one will be Arshole (Aro) POV on the Volturi**

HUGE thanks to Kstew411 for talkin' up some filthy and funny white trash about Eddie and the crew on twitter. I mean, seriously, un-fuckin'-believable. Not to mention the entirely stupefying, stunning, simply spectacular rec she gave Dead Confederates at rob my world (seriously, I'm still reeling. She has the Midas touch – you know, like King Midas, not the auto body franchise): robmyworld(DOT)com/2010/04/06/dead-confederates-ff-recs-by-kstew411/

Dead Confederates now has a Facebook page (ta Gasaway Alley!)….just don't even mention it to Eddie (sure you can imagine what he thinks of all that…he's opened an account under duress. Last night he filled out his profile; typing, but decidedly not looking at the monitor the entire time…). He'd love for you to drop by, but it's pure Eddie, so not for the faint-hearted.

The DC's thread (affectionately known as the Double Wide) at Twilighted forums is always open for new visitors.

Eddie will tweet ya', but beware ;).

New banners by the delicious ms_ambrosia too!

Links for everything are on my profile.

Bubba spewed an epic swearword in Feed Your Head that fanfiction refuses to post, what's up with that, fanfiction? So, we're bothered. It went a little somethin' like this: Bubba paced around like a caged bear, mumbling a jumbled mess all rolled up into excessive swearing, "Mother-fucker-bullshit-bastard-screweduptheduffy-ehJizzwon'tmind-flangeandFUCK!"

It would make me most happy if you'd give mine and winterstale's Tigresse a go – it's two chapters and complete. Or, you know, Youth without Age, ha ha! Got an o/s with Viola Cornuta coming out soon and it's very cool so alert me.

Cheers, Rie~