A/N: This story was originally written as a crossover for the Steamy Movie Crossover Contest, mixing the '90s Christian Slater flick, Pump Up the Volume, with the lovely Twilight pair of Edward and Bella.

No copyright infringement is intended to Twilight, Pump Up the Volume, or All the King's Men, though I'm sure Robert Penn Warren would probably roll in his grave at my appropriation.

Songs referenced and/or quoted in this fic are as follows:

Everybody Knows – Leonard Cohen

Mommie's Little Monster – Social Distortion

I'm Like Yeah, She's All No – The Mr T. Experience

Devil Inside – INXS

The Show Must Go On - Queen

Essence – Lucinda Williams

So Be It

Chapter 1

First day of school and there's finally fresh meat in Forks. After 2 years, I, Bella Swan, am no longer the new girl.

"What ya writing?"

I jumped at the voice at my elbow and slammed the cover shut.

"Nothing, Alice. Stuff."

My best friend shrugged and tossed her bag onto the floor next to the lunch table as she settled in to pick at her wilted salad.

"You're always writing stuff. Ugh, this is so gross. I wish they let us leave campus for lunch." She poked the limp lettuce again before pushing the bowl away and returning her focus to me.

"What are you looking at?" She raised an eyebrow in warning. "And don't say nothing!"

I sighed and absently traced the curve of the apple in front of me before nodding to the far table. "New boy."

"Ohhh, I hadn't seen him yet, but that's all anyone's been talking about." Alice studied him intently. "Kind of cute. But crazy shy. Apparently Lauren tried to talk to him in gym, and he just walked right by like he didn't even see her."

Ignoring Lauren, wannabe Mean Girl? I liked the guy already. "Maybe he just doesn't like everyone staring at him like a monkey in the zoo," I muttered.

Alice laughed. "Issues much, Bells? You've lived here for ages now, no one stares at you anymore." She paused for a minute, then snickered as she glanced over at the table of jocks. "Well, except for Newton, but that's cause he wants to make babies with you."

"Ewww, Alice, gross." I tossed my bottle cap at her and stood up. "Don't you have a closet to be making out in or something?"

She grabbed her salad remains and stood as well. "Yep. Jasper's securing the janitor's closet in the English building for us. Much better than the science building - all those chemicals kind of kill the mood."

"TMI, Alice, TMI." I cast one more glance at the table in the corner where the new guy, Edward Cullen, son of the new Chief of Staff at Forks General Hospital and late of Chicago, Illinois, sat hunched over. Thanks to Forks own no-tech version of Gossip Girl, i.e. Jessica Stanley and her mother, everyone already knew about the Cullens.

That Dr. Cullen was a brilliant surgeon and near saint who'd given up a mega-lucrative position to come work at a rural hospital. And that he also could apparently give McDreamy a run for his money. I'd heard that one whispered with a giggle between Jess's mom and Mrs. Crowley while I was waiting in the checkout line at the grocery store last week. Freaking weird.

That Mrs. Cullen spent wads of cash remodeling some old house in the middle of the woods outside of town, and had apparently been some kind of society muckity-muck back in the Windy City. Jessica had started some crazy rumor that she was going to form a Garden Club and invite everyone to high tea, or maybe host a debutante ball. Whatever. Jess had probably just ODed on another of her OC marathons. I knew zip about high society, but that wasn't in the cards for Forks. We had a diner, a fast food joint, and the Moose Lodge Friday Night Fish Fries as options for dining out. To say we lacked class was an understatement.

And last but not least, their golden child, Edward. At least, the guess was he was golden. Who wouldn't be with parents like those? But no real dirt on him - just the basics. He was the newest enrolled senior at Forks Highs. He drove a silver Volvo. He'd gone to private school in Chicago. He was either mute or a stuck up snob who thought he was better than the rest of us. Hell, who knew, he might even be right.

His shock of coppery hair fell down over his forehead, blocking his face as he stared at his plate, pushing around the meatloaf surprise that he didn't know enough yet not to get. I thought for a moment about walking over and saying hi, but then again, I'd been overwhelmed by the flood of people doing just that when I'd first moved here. Everybody and their fucking brother coming up and talking to me like they knew me already.

So I turned and walked away, headed to my favorite back corner in the library to hole up, read, and wait for the bell.


Is senior year some kind of sadistic black hole of time that lasts forever? How can it only be October? And what bastard made it some rite of passage that you have to have a homecoming dance? Isn't homecoming for, like, the old folks to come back and cheer and relive their glory days? Why the hell should we celebrate it? We're not coming home, we're already fucking trapped here.

I underlined trapped a couple of times and growled as the tip of my perfectly sharpened pencil broke. Mondays sucked.

"Bella, come here, you've got to listen to this!" Alice squealed loudly as she waved an earbud at me from her seat on Jasper's lap on the other side of the quad. I sighed and closed my journal, scowling at the bright banner fluttering over my head announcing the upcoming rah rah festivities. I picked my way carefully under the shelter of the gym overhang to meet them. There'd been an icy rain mix for a week now, and today was the first day the temperatures had spiked above freezing. Practically a balmy 43.

I hated Forks.

I walked past Edward "I Talk To No One" Cullen, who was leaning against the wall, deep in a book. Two months in, and he remained the school's resident mystery, keeping to himself, mumbling an answer in class only when forced to, and jetting off in that shiny, slick car of his as soon as the last bell sounded.

Unfortunately, I'd always been a sucker for a good mystery.

I tried to be sneaky with checking him out when I walked by his spot, but I couldn't help myself. There was something mighty sexy about a guy reading a book. What? I was a bibliophile. With a tiny, totally secret crush on Mr. Mysterious over there. Add those semi-nerdy glasses that slipped down and showed off gorgeous green eyes as he stared at the text intently, and those perfect long fingers that oh so gently flipped that page and-

I tripped and almost wiped out on the ice puddle that still remained in the shadows, but managed to grab a pole and avoid total embarrassment. I righted myself, glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, then carefully watched my feet as I headed towards Alice, who was snickering.


"Shut up," I said as I grabbed the earbud. "It's your fault I almost killed myself."

"Whatever, Bella. Check this out."

I slid the earbud in place and waited as she hit play.

"Everybody knows . . ."

The closing lines of the musical refrain crooned and then faded away as a voice started to speak.

"Evening, ladies and gents of Forks, Washington. Welcome back to the most depressing fucking town in America. That's right, beautifuls, Happy Harry Hard-On is here again, live and streaming right into where you live. Are you ready for me?"

My eyes widened. What the hell was this?

"So they say Forks is the wettest fucking place in the good old US of A. To which I say, amen. Who doesn't like it all wet and dripping? Though me, I prefer it when it's hot, too. Soaking sweet liquid fire that makes you just want to drown in it. You know what I'm talking about. Just fucking plunge all the way in, lick it up, savor it, let it surround you."

The disembodied voice somehow managed to make every crude thing he uttered sound like the sexiest fucking thing on earth. He made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh and I pulled my jacket closer around me, suddenly aware that my nipples had just decided to say hello to the whole damn quad.

"Oh no, here we go again. Can't talk about the wet stuff without the monster rearing its ugly head. Insatiable."

There was another low moan and then the very distinctive sound of flesh sliding on hard flesh, firmly and rapidly. I gulped and knew I was blushing.

"Are you to the part where he spanks the monkey?" Alice asked excitedly. "Can you believe this?"

I waved a hand to quiet her, embarrassed, but determined to hear. He was breathing heavier now, rough and low, and the sounds of his self-use were more pronounced.

"Mmmm, yeah, guess wet Forks is going to keep me hard. All. The. Time. Oh, fuck, oh yeah, yeah . . ."

The voice panted and then there was a strangled groan and a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice husky and drowsy. Guh. It was all I could do to keep from panting myself.

"Beautifuls, that was a big one. The monster's asleep for now, and so must I. It's quitting time, dear listeners. So keep your enemies close and your loved ones closer, cause they're the ones that'll really fuck you over. Cause that's the way life is. So be it."

"Isn't that like, the dirtiest thing, ever," Alice bounced on her heels, taking the headphones I handed back. She giggled. "I know you think so, you're blushing, isn't she, Jasper?"

He took the iPod and tucked it in his jacket, pulling Alice back down on his lap. "You kind of are, Bella."

"I'm always blushing, it's my default," I shot back, ignoring their snickers. "Where the hell did you find that?"

Jasper shrugged. "New site popped up a few weeks ago with this streaming podcast - one of the guys from the baseball team sent it to me. There's no archive - I just ripped that one last night when it was live. It's got to be someone here in Forks, though, he talks shit about the school and town all the time." He glanced around the quad at the little bunches of students hanging out and gossiping, waiting for the first bell to sound. "Hell, it could even be me."

"Oh, that'd be so hot, babe," Alice cooed. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear and he attacked her lips in response.

I fought to suppress the gag from seeing yet another make out session from those two and looked away. They'd come up for air sometime. I glanced around, wondering who it could really be. My eyes drifted back towards the walkway I'd slipped on and was surprised to see Edward Cullen staring in our direction. Or maybe it'd been my imagination. He slid his glasses firmly up and shifted positions, flipping a page and returning to his book.

The lovebirds had finally been defeated in their face sucking quest by the need for oxygen, so I turned back, determined to find out more.

"What's the site?" I asked nonchalantly. Jasper flipped his iPod out and scrolled back to the track, showing me the track listing. . I squinted at it.

"Sobe? Like those drinks with the lizard on them? The lizard drink? What's fks? The lizard drink fucks?" I puzzled.

Alice howled and shook her head. "It's the way he signs off, so be it. So be it, Forks."

"Ohh. Weird. So when does it stream?"

Jasper shrugged. "About ten, every night. Give or take. Sometimes it's on for a few minutes, sometimes hours."

"And does he do . . ." I trailed off, realizing I was blushing again.

Jasper nodded. "Oh yeah. Seriously, you could probably find the guy by checking for hairy palms - dude whacks it four or five times a night it sounds like."

The bell rang, signaling the start of first period, and everyone started to scatter. After promising Alice I'd meet her at lunch, I gathered my books and journal, trying to watch my footing more closely as I hurried back across the quad and towards my first class.

The room was already starting to fill up by the time I arrived, and I rushed to grab my usual seat. Second aisle from the far wall, five seats back. The one with the perfect line of sight for my morning eye candy.

EC update: Wearing a gray long sleeved t-shirt and faded blue jeans, small worn spot in left knee. Same green bookbag. New paperback. He appears to have finished previous book. Maybe approach for recommendation as conversation starter?

I frowned at the lined page.

No, too obvious that have been stalking watching.

I bit my pencil and craned my neck, trying to see the title on the paperback tucked under Edward's arm. He placed his books too close to the edge of his desk while sliding into his seat and knocked them off.

Oh baby, bend over and get that.

I almost bit through my eraser as he did exactly that, retrieving the items while giving me an excellent look at his well-formed ass in those faded jeans before sliding quietly into his seat and pulling out his new book, staring at the pages and blocking out the rest of the room.

Swoon. I grabbed the remainder of my mangled pencil and returned to my journal.

I can admit it. I'm a sick pup. Why do I only lust for the unattainable ones? Is that the lure? Does no one else see how gorgeous he is? Granted, I'm not sure half the stupid chicks in this burg recognize what a fantastic piece of man meat they have among them, what with him hiding behind those glasses and lurking alone in the library all the time. But still, who couldn't see that hotness?

I glanced up from my journal to hear Ms. Emerson call the class to order and drone something about the next unit on Shakespeare's sonnets. How do I compare thee to a summer's day, blah, blah. Read them all ages ago. Just as well, it gave me more time for Edward watching.

He rolled his eyes slightly at the announcement too, silently drumming his fingers on the desktop in front of him. I loved watching his hands, long and agile, like they'd be so talented and could just, just . . .

"plunge all the way in-"

I sat straight up with a gasp, the voice from the podcast ringing in my ears like a fucking auditory hallucination as I glanced around the classroom, trying to tune back in to what was going on.

"So, Mr. Cullen, you were saying that you believe the metaphor that Shakespeare is using here is one of embracing life, of, how did you phrase it, plunging in and seizing the moment?"

I waited with baited breath to hear his response. He shrugged and nodded, to Ms. Emerson's satisfaction. I ground my teeth in frustration.

Jeez. Get a life and stop conflating your inner fantasies, Bella.

The bell rang and I grabbed my books, tucking my journal into my bag as I dragged myself to the next class.


I was still thinking about that damn podcast two days later as I crumpled my brown bag of leftovers and tossed it on my way out of the lunchroom. Alice had an earlier than usual rendezvous planned with Jasper – something about a key to the equipment closet, so I was soloing it today.

It was hard not to think about it. Everyone in the school was talking about Happy Harry lately. He'd talked shit about the football team last night, segued into a rant on the sorry state of life generally, then managed to blow his wad while making these guttural moans and groans that had me literally squirming in my desk chair as I sat glued in front of my computer, earbuds jacked tightly. Not exactly the kind of thing I wanted dear old dad listening in on.

But the thing I'd been mulling all day was the invitation he'd made before he signed off last night.

"Harry's got a proposition for you, my horny little listeners. And you know when Harry talks, you're going to come for me, aren't you, beautifuls?

Yes, that's right, my dears, Harry's lonely here in cyberspace. I give and give and give, and now I want something back.

You. Oh yes, you, and you're going to give it to me, aren't you? Here's what I want.

Something real. I want to know what you're thinking. What's that deep, dirty secret that's festering inside? What's that one thing that crawls around in your belly, squirming and dying to see the light of day? That kink you think no one gets, that question that's always been unanswered.

Send them to me. Maybe I'll read them. Maybe I won't. But I want them. So don't keep Harry waiting."

And damn it, I hadn't been able to think about anything since then. Something about the idea of him reading my words, of finally sharing something I'd kept crammed in this journal I'd been scribbling in for years now, was tantalizing. Even if he was an Internet perv.

I wandered into the deserted library, making my ritual stop by the new books rack to see if different selections had magically appeared from the editions that had been gathering dust on the shelf since last May. A well-stocked library was obviously not a Forks School Board priority.

I picked up a tome that was clearly riding the teen vampire chick lit wave to flip through for the tenth time, when the rush of air from the big old wooden doors swooshing open behind me told me I wasn't alone. I waited a moment, then turned to glance towards the opposite back corner from where I always staked my seat.

His corner. My silent lunch time companion. Hee. Maybe he was stalking me.

I wished.

But the seat was empty.

I tossed the book on the rack and turned back to the front of the library, surprised to see him standing silently before the empty librarian's desk, a book lying on the circulation counter in front of him. He drummed his fingers, glancing around impatiently.

Miss Hammond, the librarian, was probably up in the attendance office chewing the fat, as she liked to call it, with Mrs. Blanchard, the secretary. She wouldn't be back for a while.

It took a split second, but the next thing I knew, I had ducked through the side entrance and was perched behind the circulation desk, ready to serve. Yours truly was a library aide junior year, after all. And Miss Hammond would totally want me to help out a patron in need.

"Hi, Edward," I opened, smiling as I waited for him to look somewhere beside the worn down wood of the desk. "Can I help you?"

He glanced up, just a peek, and looked mildly perplexed that I was not a seventy year old with bluish hair and red cat-eye glasses. He nodded and slid the book across the desk.

"I need to turn this in," he mumbled.

I glanced at the title. "Hmm, All the King's Men. I haven't read this, any good?"

He nodded. "It's okay."

No one could accuse him of having a way with words. Especially since this was still the longest conversation we'd had to date. I took the book and flipped it open, glancing at the stamp inside. Overdue. "Uh-oh, who'd have guessed about you?"

His head shot up, meeting my eyes for the first time. "What?"

Damn, he had pretty eyes. I wished, not for the first time, that he'd take off those glasses.

"You're one of those naughty patrons who doesn't bring back books on time. You know what we have to do to those, don't you?" I asked, leaning over the counter towards him, trying not to noticeably sniff him. He smelled good, some kind of musky, woodsy smell mixed with the sharp bite of wintergreen.

He leaned back, looking everywhere but at me as he ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Um, no."

"Punish them," I replied in as sultry a tone as I could manage, almost cracking up at the look of panic that crossed his face. What did he think the penalty for late library books was, a flogging? I held out my hand, palm up, and winked at him. "That'll be fifty cents."

He exhaled, digging in his pocket and dumping change and a clear empty cellophane candy wrapper on the counter before turning on his heel and vanishing out of the library.

"Wow, strange does not even begin to describe him." I shook my head. "Maybe that much pretty makes you crazy." I checked the book in, tossed the coins in the overdue drawer, then checked the book back out in my name. If Edward Cullen couldn't talk to me, maybe I could learn a little more about him through his choice of reading material.

I settled back in my corner and pulled out my worn journal. If my eye candy was gone, I might as well start writing.


"Hello beautifuls. Did you miss me, all you people out there, sitting naked in your chairs?"

I leaned back in my own chair, grinning as I glanced down at my flannel pjs. Hardly. But if he kept talking like that, I might be. That voice could talk a nun out of her habit. And I wasn't exactly a nun, though I'd started to feel like it since I'd moved to Forks. Way too small of a gene pool and all the good ones got snagged back in middle school.

So it was just me and my new favorite Internet perv. I was worse than a thirteen year old boy who just discovered his dad's Playboy stash - I was glued to my laptop waiting to hear him every night.

Maybe Alice was right. Maybe I needed to just give in, screw Mike, and put an end to the Sahara that was my sex life. As in total drought. I frowned at the thought of Mike's saliva. Nope. Not that desperate yet.

"It's me again, sneaking into your room, here to defile and defame you. That's right, Happy Harry's back, hard as ever. It's going to be one of those nights. 'Cause it's Friday and I'm as horny as a barn full of owls.

Now some of you, you're out with that person that's got you all hot and bothered, making out in the back seat of your daddy's Caddy, seeing just how much further you can go this time, up that shirt, grab a little tit, or down inside those little panties, feeling that warm wet pussy just trying to suck you in. Mmm, yeah, makes me even harder just thinking about it. Get a little for me, boys, 'cause I'm here all alone in the dark, just me with my cold one, and my sparks in the dark candy."

I listened as he paused, taking a drink and sighing.

"I take that back. I'm not all alone tonight. Ask and you shall receive, and beautifuls, based on the emails I've gotten in the last few days, you are some sick motherfucks."

He laughed softly.

"But I promised to share, didn't I? So get ready, your randy bastards, 'cause this one is for all us lonely fucks out there tonight."

He paused and I realized I was holding my breath until he began to speak my words.

"Dead air.

I wait. Empty.

Until I can turn you on.

You don't ask. You just enter.

Your tongue is loaded with longing.



It drips, slithers, crawls its way through the wires and waves to where I'm waiting.

For you.

My brain crackles. My body throbs. It knows what it needs. What it wants.

So do it. Make it loud. Fill me up.

Tease me. Touch me. Taste me. Take me.

Talk hard to me."

He gave a small hum of appreciation as he finished my last line. "Now that one. That one I like. Talk hard to me. Mmm, that's good."

I finally remembered to start breathing again. Fuck, but listening to him read that was such a turn-on. I wished that he'd do it again.

"Signs herself Poetry Lady. Pretty title for such a dirty girl. And I do love me a dirty girl.

But nothing but an email, unlike some of you exhibitionists out there wanting Harry to give you a call. Or watch your webcam. Wish you'd left me more, Poetry Lady. I know my beautiful listeners are gonna want to hear from you again. I know I do.

Well, the chase just makes it sweeter. This one's for you, sweetheart. 'Cause this is how it always goes. I'm All Yeah and She's All No, a little MTX to rock your Friday night. Enjoy the one you're with tonight, 'cause they'll screw you over come the harsh light of day."



I frowned and scratched it out.


Poetry Lady, my ass. I sucked at this.

I chewed on the end of my pen, searching for the right word when Alice appeared by my side.

"Incoming at twelve o'clock, Bella."

I glanced up. "Huh? Did Jasper make you marathon the military weekend on the History Channel again?"

She rolled her eyes and gestured to the guy now standing in front of me. Fuck. Maybe trapped was the word I'd been looking for after all.

I attempted a polite, yet disinterested smile. "Hi, Mike."

"Hey Bells, you're looking good today."

He leaned against my locker, attempting what he apparently thought was a subtle bicep flex. Alice giggled beside me and I elbowed her.

"Uh, thanks." I glanced at my watch. "Wow, look at the time, I've got to run."

He looked confused. "But class doesn't start for another ten minutes."

"Yeah, but I like to get there early." I shut my locker door and started to edge away, clutching Alice's sleeve to keep her from scampering off. I shot her the clear "if you leave me I will be forced to hunt you down and kill you look" and she shrugged and fell in step beside me.

"Oh, well, I can walk you," Mike grinned, flanking my other side. "Want me to carry your books?"

"That's okay, I think I've got it." I replied, gesturing to the one notebook in my hands.

"So, did you know that Friday night's the big game and the homecoming dance?"

"You don't say," I muttered, staring at the posters that had been plastered on the walls of the hallway for weeks announcing that fact. "Well, good luck with that."

"Oh yeah, we're going to kick some Falcon ass," he responded with enthusiasm.

"Awesome," I deadpanned, spying an escape.

"So Bella, I was wondering-"

"Oh wow, there's the library, there's a book I have to get this morning before class like right now, talk to you later, 'kay, bye," I machine gunned out, and ducked past Mike into the library, leaving one gaping quarterback and a best friend who looked as though she were about to explode in laughter in my wake.

Five minutes and one tardy bell later, I sneaked out of the library and down the hall to English. Guess I'd be playing the fun game of dodge the Mike all week. Fucking Mondays.

I slid into my seat, trying to look innocent as I mouthed a sorry at Ms. Emerson, who frowned, but continued on with her speech.

"Your next assignment will require you to incorporate cooperative learning skills, an important part of our curriculum. I have paired you up, and each partner will have to report on the effectiveness of the other at the conclusion of the project to ensure you each complete an appropriate share of work. This project will require time outside of class, but I know you'll be willing to give the extra effort to make this a success. "

Emerson gave us all her best sincere and hopeful look as she started handing out the packets, like she was waiting for us all to stand up and give a fucking woo-hoo at the prospect of a group project.

I doodled a frowny face in the corner of my journal as she began rattling off names, half tuned in as I flipped though the packet. Please don't let her stick me with Lauren again. I might have to gouge my eyes out. Or hers. Dad probably wouldn't like either.

"Edward Cullen, you will be paired with Isabella Swan."

I think I love Ms. Emerson.

"You will have five minutes at the end of class to talk with your partners and make initial plans."

I didn't have a fucking clue what Emerson talked about the rest of the period, as I was counting down the minutes until she let us chat with our partners. When she finally wrapped things up, I waited a half second to see if he would come back to my desk.

Not surprisingly, he stayed where he was, half hunched, glancing back nervously at me. My move, I guess.

I sauntered towards his desk, sliding into the vacant seat in front of him. He glanced up, still silent.

"So we meet again," I opened. "Still being naughty?"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"The library? Last week? Overdue book?" He almost looked liked he was about to hyperventilate, so I shrugged and flipped open the packet, mumbling, "Relax, Edward, just kidding."

"Oh, right. No, nothing overdue," he replied softly.

Great, now he thought I was the library nazi. We sat in silence for another minute, both staring at his desk and the packets of information, until he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a couple of those mint lifesavers that had the sparkly center, ripping the cellophane open and crunching on one. He wordlessly offered me the other and I took it for what it obviously was. A peace offering. Accepted.

I flipped through the packet and scanned the requirements. "Looks like we're going to need to do some research, pull some of the sonnets she's listed here, and maybe a few others to analyze. What's a good time for you this week?"

He shrugged. "Whenever."

"After school on Wednesday, okay?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied.

Time to get bold, Bella. "So, could we meet at your house?"

He looked like he was going to refuse, then nodded. "Sure."

"Great, I'll be there at 4:00."

The bell rang and he bolted, leaving me clutching the mint and grinning. I had a date with Edward Cullen.


"It's a dirty night out there tonight, boys and girls. Out there, in here, everywhere. You ever feel like it's just all fucked up? Everything. The economy, the environment, the government, the schools. Maybe so fucked up it can't ever be fixed.

But the irony is, that's not what they want us to believe, is it? I was walking the hallways today and saw that big beautiful poster outside the guidance office. You know the one. What you can believe, you can achieve."

He laughed bitterly.

"Load of shit, but that's what they got to tell themselves, I guess. 'Cause we're the fucking dream. The next generation. They're pinning their hopes on us. Well I say, fuck'em. We got better things to do, right?

So let's give it up for a little Social D. That's right, Mommy's Little Monster – theme song for our parent's worst nightmares."

I laid on my bed, listening for a few seconds before I got up and paced back over to my computer and pulled up my email. I hesitated for a second, then typed in his address and composed the message.

Bad day, Harry?

I waited for a minute, jumping a little as the ping signaled a reply over the music.

You gonna make it better, Poetry Lady?

I smiled a little.

Maybe in your dreams. Or mine.

I hit send and within seconds, there was a reply.

I knew you were a cocktease. How about a number? Name? Hand job?

I smirked.

You wish. And you're the cocktease. Aren't you going to talk hard to me tonight, baby? I'm waiting.

The song was winding down and there was a moment of silence, before his voice filled my ears again, huskier than before.

"Sometimes you just meet your match, beautifuls. I think I just found mine tonight. And the beast is back and getting bigger than ever. Fucking hard as nails. I can feel it coming - this one's going to be a gusher. Take cover out there, Forks."

I bit my lip and closed my eyes, letting my own hands wander as I listened.

"Oh yeah, got to take care of this or I'm going to explode. Rough and hard, just the way the monster wants it. Oh, yeah, yeah . . ."

He was breathing harder now and I kept my eyes closed, listening to the noises he made, the sighs and groans and sound of his hand gripping himself as my own slid under the waist of my pajamas and into my dripping wet panties, finding a rhythm that matched his own harsh breaths instinctively.

"Oh. Fuck. Yeah."

He gave one final gasp and I groaned in stereo as my whole body shuddered against my fingers.

Oh fuck yeah, indeed. Damn.

"Well, I'm spent. Whipped. Be sure to try that at home, kiddos. One last song dedicated to my new muse. Devil Inside. INXS. So be it."

I laughed as he cued up the music and leaned back in my chair, still feeling boneless. The ping of the email brought me straight back up in the chair.

Hard enough for you?

I bit my lip, then typed something quickly. I hit reply and shut off the computer before I was tempted to do something stupid. Like send him my number. Or tell him where I lived.

Maybe. Can't chat. Hands otherwise occupied. ;) Sweet dreams, Harry.