Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, but I do own my own bookplate with Sm's autograph...I know, I know your all jealous!!! lol!!!

A/N: this would have come sooner, but I was waiting for it to be beta-ed, it wasn't b/c it took to long, hopefully the next chapter won't take to long!!!

Please Review, Please Please Please.....Reviews= LOVE = More Chapters!!!!

Ladies and Gents....

The Heist

I shuffled my feet on the tiled floor of the sweltering Arizona bank, while I kept my eye trained on the clock, counting the minutes away. I was already running late this morning, when I slept through my alarm clock, due to my late night studying. I had read and reread every word that had to do with Shakespeare for my literature final this morning, drowning myself in Redbulls and strong coffee, only to pass out on my desk, when the words started to blur. When I finally woke up, my face soaked with salty sweat sticking to the pages of my textbook, I raced around in a frenzy, throwing my books and notes into my worn backpack covered with vintage patches and pins, a shrine to the golden gods of rock. I was digging in my dresser drawers, carelessly tossing clothes everywhere, in a search for a clean pair of jeans, when Angela, my roommate, came in reminding me I needed to pay my portion of the rent today, sending me into heart palpitations and hyperventilation when I realized I would need to go to the bank on my way to class. According to the bright crimson numbers that were peeking out from below a blue shirt I threw that way seconds ago, I had barely enough time to make it, even if I ran. Grabbing the blue shirt, and awkwardly throwing it on as I ran past my roommate's boyfriend, Ben, giving him a swift peak at my yellow cotton bra, I hurried through the living room and out the front door.

After tripping on the doorstep of the bank in my haste, I found myself standing in a long line of people waiting for the next available teller. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I hoisted my heavy backpack higher on my shoulder, while my eyes started to wander. I was watching a mother ignore her screaming child, who was strapped in his stroller with rapid tears streaming down his cherry cheeks, in an attempt to sign some forms, when I saw the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She was the epitome of a Victoria's Secret Model; I think that even Heidi Klum would be jealous of this curvy and statuesque golden beauty, dressed in a black pin-striped pencil skirt and white chiffon blouse. I swear my self-esteem dropped into the negative digits, as I saw her sashay out of the bank, winking at the buff security guard.

I was watching the sun shining through the windows dance unto the marble floor, when I heard a bell ringing above the entrance doors. It was then that I saw him, the most divine man to ever grace this earth. This tall, muscular, bronzed haired deity walked into the bank demanding the attention of every female within it. As he walked towards the back of the line, directly behind me, his eyes met mine. The emerald orbs seemed to pierce through my eyes, penetrating into to the very depths of my soul.

As the realization of being caught staring, made its way into my slightly hazy brain, warmth flooded my face, coloring my cheeks in a scarlet indication of my embarrassment. He continued to walk towards me, an enchanting crooked smile forming on his flawless features. My heart was pounding in my rib cage, butterflies swarming in my stomach, as I felt his presence behind me, his eyes burning the skin of my body, as his gaze lingered. I caught his reflection in the bank's mirror, his expression no longer forming a smile, but rather a grimace, as confliction raged in his eyes. My shoulders shifted from the tense stance from before to slumping slightly, as my curiosity took over every thought. What made his demeanor change so quickly?

I continued to watch him in the mirror, as time slowly passed, though I wasn't really paying attention to the time anymore; it seemed to have shifted or stopped, when he entered the bank. I watched his long fingers run through his hair; I wondered the texture of it, what it would feel like between my fingers, as I lightly massaged his scalp. I wondered the feeling of those fingers caressing my skin; I shivered slightly just thinking of it.

When he shifted his weight between his feet it brought my attention to his body. It was covered in dark jeans and a dark t-shirt, showing his rugged arms. The darkness seemed to contrast with his pale skin making it glow slightly. As my eyes made it way up his body, over his chest, over his Adam's apple that moved as he gulped, onto to the fine luscious lips, as he slightly licked the bottom one, pulling it into that delectable mouth between his teeth and finally, into the depths of those emerald whirlpools, that were now connected to mine, drinking in everything I had to offer. My body flushed but only partly in embarrassment. I was unsure of this feeling, that made my bones mush, and muscles tense and squirm, under his gaze. It wasn't just humiliation or self-consciousness, it was different. It was a sensual caress, his eyes gave. I didn't need to feel him psychically, to feel him. His presence was taking over everything …that is until the teller pulled me from under his control.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge these strange feelings resonating in my skin and soul. Even though my mind was brought back to reality, the rest of me still felt him, and his control over me. This was something I have never felt before.

I walked up to the counter where a petite girl around my age sat, her spiky black hair going in every direction, atop of her beautiful face. Her blue eyes shined in comparison to her light pallor and dark hair. When she saw me approach, she smiled. "Hello, How may I help you today?" she asked, cheerfully.

"I would like to check my balance and make a withdrawal."

"Okay, let me see what I can do for you. May I have your bank accountant number?" she continued, her eyes shifting from mine to the man behind me. I felt a surge of pure fury burn through my veins, at the thought of her checking him out. However, when I glanced in the mirrored wall behind her taking a peek at him, I realized that they were having a silent conversation, and the look between them, platonic. Now that the flame of jealousy had been extinguished, I handed her my check book.

As she read my information, her expression turned shocked then slightly shaken; was there something wrong? But as fast as the look was there, it was gone again, and her chipper smile back. She quickly typed my number into the system, her hands flying over the keys, to the point were they nearly blurred. I heard a beep sound from the computer, as the girl became frustrated with it, slamming her small palm on the counter, her breathing becoming more shallow. I was about to ask if there was a problem, when two men and a woman came into the bank in dark clothes, holding guns. The one in front, a muscular man, about the same size of the god standing behind me, shot a bullet through the ceiling, grabbing everyone's attention yelling, "This is a bank robbery, everyone get down!"

But his words barely registered, as I felt the metal cylinder of the gun, push aside my backpack, pressing against my lower back, right against my spine, by the bronze-haired god, himself.

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