"Bump and Grind"
Summer SmutDown One Shot
I do not own Twilight, I'm just hot and bothered.
Another day, another dollar.
Time to put my nose to the grindstone, once again.
I just pulled out of my townhouse's garage and make my way to the end of the street where the stop sign tells me to cool my heels. Sure enough, it happens again, just like every morning. Some jackhole pulls out in front of me and cuts me off right as I'm about to get to the corner. Not only that, but he will then drive around five miles an hour down the single lane street, only to gun it right as we get to the first big intersection while the light is yellow and about to turn red. I never can get to that light before it turns red, and it's a long, stupid light. So butthead drives off while I'm stuck waiting.
Stupid freaking Volvo driver.
"Silver Volvo," I mumble to myself. "More like Silver Dildo. Why don't you stick that thing where the sun doesn't shine, moron?" I add, grumbling like a grouchy old lady. Even though this person annoys the ever loving shit out of me, I never get mad enough to give him the finger or try to speed up and pass him. I desperately want to do either of those things, but I just don't have the nerve—not this early in the morning, anyway.
I wonder what it is about these Swedish cars that make people so rude and act like they own the damn road. Whoever this person is, they are beyond obnoxious. I mean, to cut someone off at the same place and at the same time every day, over and over, just takes the cake.
Of course, Silver Dildo speeds through the yellow light but it turns red before I can sneak by.
I'm going to be late for work because of this bozo. I managed to land a total dream job straight out of college. I work for one of the most successful publishing houses in Seattle as an assistant editor. I'm crazy busy but I absolutely love my job. My boss is a sweetheart and things couldn't be better. She's putting me in for a promotion and a raise, but unfortunately it's being put on hold because the company is changing hands. The old boss is retiring and his son is taking over. I've never met the son but I've heard he's ten kinds of rotten asshole. Figures. He's probably the one holding off on the raises. Cheap ass.
I make my way into work and arrive at an important staff meeting ten minutes late. I manage to make a huge racket as I find a seat, knocking over someone's coffee and then dropping my leather-bound folder.
Great, just wonderfully, spectacularly, fan-freaking-tastically great. Thanks, Silver Dildo.
It's almost lunch and my stomach is growling like crazy. Just as I'm about to grab my purse and head out for a sandwich, I hear a voice behind me and the sound of it awakens every cell in my body. That's because it makes me want to puke.
"Bella, Bellllllllla Swanareeno, The Bellameister. Bellissima," I hear, not bothering to turn around.
"Cut that shit out, Mike. It wasn't funny in high school and it's really not funny now," I reply.
"Come on, Bella, loosen up," he says, putting his hands on the back of my neck to try and give me a shoulder massage. This idiot looks for any excuse to touch me and I just want to beat his ass with my shoe.
"Don't touch me, Newton," I snap, pulling away from him.
"Damn girl, stand down. I'm just being friendly. Woman, you are hard up, I can tell. You need some sexualllll heeeeeealin," he sings.
I just turn, kick him in the shin and run. This is my usual tactic with Mike Newton and I've been doing it for years. Just kick and run.
By the end of the day, I have so much work piled up that I need to bring a bunch of it home. I work while eating my pasta dinner, then on through the night until I fall asleep on the couch. I wake up with a start and notice that I'm going to be late for work. I quickly get ready and scramble to my truck. It's an already muggy, sweaty summer day and I try to roll down my window as I drive down the street. I'm distracted as I do this and fail to see Silver Dildo pull his same asshole maneuver.
I rear end him.
Seriously, fuck my life.
Luckily, there doesn't seem to be any damage—not even scratches to the paint. I wasn't really go fast enough to do anything but bump him lightly. I get out of my truck for a closer look and to ask if he's OK.
I see the driver's side door open, and out comes a long leg wearing black khakis. Feeling intrigued, I move in closer until I can see what's attached to that nice manly looking leg.
Unruly reddish brown hair making him look freshly schmexed. Black wayfarer sunglasses. Pouty lips. Five o'clock 'fuck shaving' shadow. Crisp white dress shirt and skinny black tie.
"I, um, didn't see you, obviously. I'm sorry. Are you OK?" I ask, feeling all kinds of stupid. Of course, it's just my luck that I would meet a deliciously gorgeous guy under these messed up circumstances.
"I think so," he answers back in a voice like liquid velvet. That voice alone makes me want to hump his leg. This is insane. I'm normally a pretty calm, rational person. But this boy is filling my head with a multitude of filthy thoughts. It's just not right.
"All right then. It looks like there isn't any damage. If you don't mind, I better get going," I say, desperate to get to work. Not to mention, I think I'm done looking like an idiot, hitting this guy while he was stopped at a stop sign and then shamelessly giving him the once-over.
"Wait!" he calls out. He gets out of his car and clutches his neck. While I enjoy looking at his nice, tall frame standing upright, I can't believe this guy's nerve.
Oh, don't even go there. You are fine, Silver Dildo.
"What?" I ask tersely, my hand on my hip.
"My neck is killing me. I think we better swap insurance information," he says, trying to sound pitiful.
"Are you kidding?" I snap. "I tapped your car!"
"Actually you hit me pretty hard, as I recall."
"Oh, 'as you recall,' huh? That's rich, buddy. That's really rich. I don't believe this," I sigh, wishing I could just clock this jerky yet incredibly hot dude. "Look, I am so late for work, can I please just give you my cell number and we can work this out later?"
He looks at me for a second like he's trying to decide how big a deal he wants to make of this stupidity. I just can't believe this guy. I know there's nothing wrong with his neck.
"Yeah, fine," he consents. I give him my number and high-tail it out of there.
Later that day, I hear my cell ring as I'm sitting in my cube. I don't recognize the number but I pick it up anyway.
"Hi, uh, this is the guy in the Volvo from this morning," I hear. He doesn't need to explain. I'd know that crazy sexy voice anywhere.
"Oh, hey. What can I do for you?" I ask, trying my best to sound polite even though he was working my last nerve earlier today.
"I was thinking we could meet somewhere later, maybe after work?" he says. He's asking a question but it comes out like a statement. He's a bossy little shit but I kinda like it.
"Um, OK, sure," I say, trying to sound coy but of course I can't pull it off.
He gives me an address that's somewhere downtown and we agree to meet at 6 pm. I drive over and notice that the address isn't an office building like I thought. It's a restaurant—a cute little French bistro with outdoor tables. I park my truck and by the time I get to the place, I see Mr. Handsome sitting at one of the tables reading the wine list.
"Hi there," he says after looking up and catching sight of me.
"Hi. I thought the address you gave me was your office. I, um, didn't think this was going to be, you know, like a social thing," I explain stupidly. I've got no game whatsoever. No wonder I never get laid. I need to be serious now. What would this hottie on a stick want with me, anyway? Besides, I thought I gave his beautiful neck whiplash. I was pissed off. Now? I'm not so sure. The pretty makes up for a lot.
"I thought we could sit and talk. It's a Friday night. You're not in a rush, are you?" he asks looking at me like a lost puppy.
Ung, the eyes. Big green eyes with long eyelashes. Can't. Resist. Eyes.
"No, I'm not in a rush," I tell him, letting a smile creep across my face despite myself.
"Great," he says with a fuckhot, yet entirely smug, little smirk. He gets up and offers me his hand. "I'm Edward," he tells me.
"I'm Bella," I respond, taking his hand. He's got huge hands and long fingers—so big that my own hand gets lost in his.
Man hands. Manhandle me with your man hands, manly man.
He pulls my chair out for me and I nearly pass out. Guys don't do shit like that anymore. None of them care about treating a girl like a lady—well, except for this guy, apparently. We sit down and begin perusing the wine list together.
"So, how's your neck feeling?" I ask skeptically, my mouth twisted up in mild annoyance.
"It's much better now," he answers with a shy smile. "Because, you know, I took some ibuprofen," he adds, licking his lip nervously.
Tttttongue. Loooooong tttttongue. Gonna DIEDEAD.
"Ah. Ibuprofen. Gotcha," I joke, not buying his cockamamie story for a second.
Heh heh. I said 'cock.' Good Lord, this boy is turning me into an idiot.
"What kind of wine do you like?" he asks, running his hand through his hair awkwardly. He's obviously hoping to change the subject.
"I don't really have a preference. I could go for white or red. It's pretty hot today, so maybe something light, like a Riesling?"
"Certainly. Sounds like a good choice," he replies with an adorable smile.
We order our drinks and have a light dinner in the warm summer evening outdoors. We make small talk about our backgrounds, education, likes and dislikes. He comes across as really intelligent. Now I understand where his insane ego comes from. A man who's good looking, smart, well-spoken and by the looks of it, not exactly poor, is gonna have pussy falling out of his pockets.
I order ice cream for dessert since the warm weather is just perfect for it. The waitress brings two spoons, assuming we're on a date and want to share.
"Would you like some?" I offer.
"Oh, I would love some," he replies suggestively, quirking an eyebrow at me.
Okaaay. Getting wildly turned on right now.
I take a few spoonfuls of ice cream, desperately trying to eat it without spilling it all over myself. Edward watches me as I slowly open my mouth and guide the spoon gently into it. He scoots his chair over so that he's right next to me.
"You look pretty delectable yourself eating that ice cream," he says in a low voice.
"Ha. I bet you say that to all the girls," I tease as I roll my eyes.
"No actually, I don't. Honestly, I don't usually flirt. I've never really met a woman I'd wanted to flirt with…before now," he explains as he looks at me through that low caveman brow. I feel like I'm about to pass out. It's not just what he's saying; it's how he says it. He could read out of the phone book and I'd still need a panty change.
He takes a spoonful of ice cream and holds it up to my face.
"Open your mouth please, Bella," he says. His tone sounds like I don't have much of a choice. Ordinarily, I'd be put off by being spoken to like this, but it's not creepy or condescending. It's just fifty million kinds of sexy and hot.
He delicately feeds me several bites of ice cream and dabs a napkin to my lips when he's done.
"Thank you for letting me do that," he says with a smile.
"Thank you for doing it," I say back as I bite my lip.
"There's a pub down the street. Would you like to get a drink?" he asks, giving me that same sweet pouty face. How the hell could I say no?
"Sure, that sounds like fun," I say.
We make our way to the cozy little Irish pub on the corner. Edwards orders himself a Scotch and politely pays for my Cosmo. As we take a seat at a booth in the corner, he very nonchalantly puts his hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me. I notice him looking at the other guys around us, especially the ones who steal a glance at me as I walk by.
Huh. Possessive. Fuck, that turns me on.
"You know, you don't have to do that," I say as we sit down.
"Do what?" he asks innocently.
"That male dominance thing—'stay away, she's my toy,'" I reply with a raised eyebrow.
"Hmm. My 'toy' huh? I like the sound of that," he murmurs in my ear.
What was I saying? Eh, who cares?
He kisses my neck ever so softly and I let out a tiny gasp. He kisses it again, a little harder this time. I close my eyes and sigh.
"Do you like that?" he asks, whispering in my ear.
"Yes," I confess unabashedly.
"Good, because there's more where that came from," he says seductively.
I inch away from him slowly so that I can go to the ladies room. If I don't take a little break from this, I'm going to start gyrating on him in front of all these people. I'm pretty sure I have more class than that. Just barely.
After freshening up and putting on a little bit of lip gloss, I'm calm enough to go sit back down with Mr. Hottie. Taking a deep breath, I smooth out my top and skirt right before leaving the restroom.
"I've taken the liberty of ordering you another drink since you finished your first one," Edward informs me with a smile as I sit down next to him. I take a generous sip of my second Cosmo. I notice that this one is considerably stronger than the last. Cheeky bastard is trying the old 'panty peeler' technique with the alcohol.
Trust me Smirky McSmirks, I could be stone cold sober and I'd still let you peel my panties.
"Thanks. That was really sweet." I tell him, taking another sip.
We get up and play darts for a while, laughing the entire time. I just stink at it, lacking the coordination, the aim, and the steady hand necessary to be good. I almost have a heart attack when I accidentally hit Edward in the head with one. Lucky for me, he's pretty good natured and just teases me about how that's twice in one day now that I've injured him.
"So, what do you do for a living?" he asks in between rounds of our game.
I suddenly don't feel like talking about work and am convinced that telling him about it would just bore him.
"Oh, it's not very interesting. I've had a busy week though—the busiest ever. Can we talk about something else?" I ask impulsively.
"Sure," he says, eager not to make me uncomfortable. "What should we talk about?" he asks with a smile.
"Let's talk about how miraculous it is that I haven't hit someone in the eye with one of these darts," I reply with a big laugh. He laughs with me before giving me what he calls a 'sympathy hug.'
We continue our game but I can't take much more of the embarrassment and urge him to go back to our booth with me. We sit side by side on the wooden bench and he puts his arm around me.
"You know, it kind of confuses me a little, why you're so nice now that I've met you," I tell him. I gulp down almost all of my Cosmo after saying that because I realize I've said too much and am nervous. This conversation could take a nosedive very quickly.
"Really? What's confusing you exactly?" he asks.
I take another huge gulp of my drink and finish it before answering him.
"This morning you seemed pretty adamant that I'd hit your car really hard and made you hurt your neck. And before that…well, I mean. Every morning you'd pull your car out in front of my truck and cut me off," I explain. "You kind of seemed like…a jerk," I say with a big smile, trying not to insult him too much.
Instead of getting ticked off, he just smiles at me and shakes his head. I silently do a happy dance inside, both because I'm relieved and because I'm getting a little schnockered.
"You still haven't figured it out, have you?" he teases.
"Figured what out?" I ask back, feeling slightly bubble-headed due to the alcohol.
"You never wondered why I kept doing that?"
"Not really, I just thought you drove like you owned the road," I say with a sheepish face.
"I was trying to get your attention. I figured if I ticked you off, you'd say something to me, I'd apologize and we could start a conversation. But I never could get you angry enough to even honk at me. You're just too sweet," he explains, taking my hand in his and smiling.
"Aw, hell. I'm just a chicken, really," I reply with a laugh.
"Nah, you're a cute little chick," he purrs as he pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear.
He puts his palm against my cheek and rubs little circles on my skin with his thumb. I smile and look up at him as he does it. It feels so good. I haven't been touched by a man in ages. And never like this—never by someone this good looking, this charming. I feel like I might combust.
I lick my lips subconsciously as I less-than-subtly look right at his beautiful puckers. That pouty, full bottom lip is calling to me, and so is the top one with its little bow along its edge.
"Edward, I want…" I begin to say, but I don't get to finish because he kisses me before I can say another word. His lips are so soft and lovely. He smells of whiskey and that manly musk smell that guys just give off. I run my fingers through his thick, messy hair, letting my hand move downward to stroke the back of his neck. I open my mouth a little and feel his tongue against mine, pressing very softly. My nipples stiffen and I begin to ache between my legs.
I am buzzed and horny.
"What do you say we get out of here, Chicky?" he asks with a smirk.
"I think that sounds like a plan," I say back with a smile.
We walk down the street and I'm glad to let my head clear a little, but I still don't feel like driving and neither does Edward so we just hop a cab to our street. Edward lives just across the way in one of giant McMansions next door to my townhouse complex.
"Would you like to come inside?" I ask as he walks me to my door.
"I would love to come inside," he says back. The double entendre isn't lost on me. I am a book nerd, after all.
I can't unlock my front door fast enough. Once safely inside, we're all over each other—kissing, groping, moaning, biting and licking. Somehow we make it to the couch where he takes a seat and I straddle his lap. I untuck his shirt and fumble with the buttons to undo them. Our lips and tongues keep working against each other as he puts his hands inside my shirt and cups them over my breasts. My nipples are rock hard and I moan from him touching me so intimately. He unclasps the front closure of my bra and hisses when his hands touch my bare skin.
"Oh God, yes, Edward. Please touch me. I need you to touch me," I beg in a strained voice. I hope he doesn't mind that being a little wasted is making me talk more than I usually would.
He lifts my shirt over my head and I ease my arms from my bra straps. Looking at me with half closed eyes, he licks his lips as he pinches my nipples with his thumbs and index fingers. I lean my shoulders back, pressing myself into his hands.
"You like that, don't you?" he teases in a husky voice.
"Yes," I answer in a whisper.
"Does it make you wet?" he asks, letting his hand trail from my breast, to my stomach and down to my groin.
"Yes," I whisper again.
OK, apparently he doesn't mind a bit of dirty talk. Neither do I. Just ask my vagina.
"Tell me what would make you feel good," he says, letting his index finger lightly trace against my skirt, right over my bikini line. I inhale deeply and let my breath out in a slow, even stream.
"I want to take your clothes off," I tell him, loosening his tie and grinning. He grins too before leaning back and letting me unbutton the rest of his shirt. I slip it off him and toss it aside, eager to inspect his torso. He's got a heck of a body for a lean guy—it's all muscle, not one ounce of fat on him. I kiss the center of his chest and stroke the little patch of hair there. Getting up from the couch, I kneel in front of him, and take off his shoes and socks.
I run my hands on the outside of his khakis, starting at his shins and going all the way up, resting my hands on either side of his zipper. There's a huge bulge behind his pants and I'm almost afraid of what's in there. I summon the courage to just go for it and unbutton his pants, lowering the zipper slowly and gently. He lifts himself up so I can ease his pants down his legs and off him.
Holy Mother of God.
I don't know what shocks me more—how hot he looks in black boxer briefs or the outline of what's inside his shorts. I haven't seen very many of these, but his is by far the biggest one I've ever seen. I suddenly realize that my mouth is watering. I figure my body must know something I don't, so I keep on going.
My hands hover lightly over the fabric of his briefs and somehow I find the nerve to slip my fingers into the waistband and take them off.
"You've got too much clothes on, Chicky," he says playfully. He pulls on my arm lightly so I can stand up and lowers my skirt and panties. "God, you're so pretty," he tells me, rubbing his hands up and down my sides.
"Thank you," I reply with a blush.
"I'm so glad you hit my car," he says with a chuckle.
"So am I," I say back, smiling at him.
I kneel in front of him again, between his legs.
"Bella," he says, lifting my chin so that I look at his face. "You are every fantasy I have ever had—the perfect blend of sweet and sexy, intelligent, beautiful. I am so turned on by you," he says, stroking my cheek.
"I can honestly say the same about you, Edward. I've never met anyone like you before," I confide. He leans down and kisses me on the lips with the gentlest touch.
"What do you want to do now?" he asks.
"I want to put you in my mouth," I whisper, surprising even myself. I wrap my hand around him and kiss the tip of his head. He hisses when I slowly run my tongue up and down the length of his shaft. I let my tongue collect all the clear pre-cum that oozes out and then wrap my lips around him. I slowly work my mouth up and down along with my hand. I hear Edward's breath catch for a second and then feel his entire body relax.
"God, that looks fucking unreal. My cock in your pretty little mouth," he says, his voice thick. I moan in response before I can stop myself. The ache between my legs is so intense, and I can feel how wet I am now. My hips start wriggling on their own, my body needing some kind of relief. Edward notices my predicament.
"Put your hand between your legs. I want to watch you finger yourself," he tells me. I very willingly oblige, being so turned on I'm liable to lose my mind. My middle finger goes straight to my clit, which is already swollen and slick.
I feel Edward's hand tangle itself into my hair, pushing my head lightly so that I go faster and take more of him in. I try my best to accommodate him without gagging, feeling his thick head glide against the back of my throat.
"That's it, fast like that. Fuck, you are good at this," he says and it just makes me nuts to hear him say these things. I moan against him and he moans back from the vibration it creates.
"You like dirty talk, don't you?" he asks. I try my best to nod my head. I think I like his dirty talk, in particular. "Yeah, you're a naughty little minx. Fucking beautiful, hot little minx," he tells me.
He uses his free hand to play with my breast, lightly pinching and pulling my nipple until it aches to a delirious degree. My hand continues to pump against my clit, moving faster and harder. I decide that I really need him inside me now. I don't care how big he is, I need to feel him there. Pulling him from my mouth, I tell him so.
"Edward, I want you inside me now," I say, standing up and straddling him again.
"I want to be inside you," he replies, putting his hands on my hips. "Do I need a condom?" he asks.
"No, I'm on birth control," I answer, "and I'm clean," I add. "I haven't had sex in forever," I admit, feeling a little embarrassed.
"I'm clean too. And I've never done it without a condom," he replies.
"Really? And you don't want to use one now?" I ask.
"No. I want to feel you. I've never wanted to as badly as I do now," he confesses, kissing and stroking my breasts.
"I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you right now," I say, positioning him beneath me. I lower myself down on him very slowly, taking deep breaths. It really has been forever and Edward is well endowed. Even though I'm more than ready, I still need to give my body the chance to adjust to him. Feeling him stretch me open is the most exquisite thing imaginable. I hiss as I force more and more of my weight down.
"Edward, you feel so good," I moan.
"You're tight as fucking hell," he says through clenched teeth. "Fucking glorious," he adds before closing his eyes and bites down on his lip.
As soon as he's all the way inside me, I take one last deep breath and stay still, savoring what it does to me. I can feel every inch of him all the way to my cervix, and pressed deliciously against where my g-spot is.
I slowly move up and down, wanting to set a slow pace so that we can both last longer. Edward's face changes almost instantly. It goes from calm and blissful to almost animalistic. His lips form a snarl on one side and he tilts his head down slightly, staring at me through those thick eyelashes and eyebrows. He breathes in heavy puffs through his nose as a 'v' shaped vein in his forehead bulges like crazy. His hands dig into my hips, urging me to go faster but I resist.
"You want me to fuck you hard?" I ask, putting my hands on either side of his face. "Fuck you til I'm sore?" I press, teasing him.
"Bella," he growls, "don't tease me," he warns. His eyes are a fiery green color now and absolutely mesmerizing. "Please, more," he urges. I give in and speed up, moaning at the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.
All of a sudden, he puts his hands under my butt and stands up, carrying me without pulling out of me even for a second. He slowly kneels and bends over, laying us down on the floor with him on top of me. I wrap my legs around his waist, wanting him to go deeper inside me, as deep as he can.
He pins my wrists over my head with both hands and pumps into me frantically. I close my eyes and feel my climax build as the tension deep inside me begins to take over my entire body, starting from the center of my abdomen and working all the way to my toes and my hands above my head. My skin breaks out in goose flesh despite how hot I feel. I open my eyes and look at Edward as he pounds against my body, thrusting his pelvis with crazy abandon.
"Oh, God, Edward…shit, I'm gonna cum so hard," I gasp.
"Do it, cum for me, I want to feel it," he growls.
I close my eyes tightly and cry out as all of that tension suddenly loosens, contracting out of me over and over again.
"Fuck!" Edward yells. He exhales three or four loud growls as he pushes into me as far as he can go and then stops moving. He rests his cheek on my forehead and his cock twitches as he cums deep inside me.
Both out of breath and sweaty, we lay like that for a couple of minutes, just enjoying the last bit of how good we made each other feel. Eventually we have to pull away from one another and we both sigh because of it.
"Holy hell, that was something else," I confess in a small voice, the back of my hand resting against my forehead.
"Yeah, definitely the hottest thing I've ever done. You are one sexy chicky, Bella," he replies with a grin. He lifts me up slightly so I can rest my head on his chest. It feels so nice to do that, to just settle myself into that little spot like it was made just for me.
"You know what, Edward?" I ask.
"I know we just met today. But I really like you, and I think you're a great guy."
"Thanks, Chicky. I think you're pretty amazing too," he replies, kissing my forehead gently.
"So, I was thinking…if you like French toast, I can make you some, say, in about eight hours?" I ask with a laugh.
"Sounds awesome. Count me in. I love French toast."
I stand up and pull his hand so that he gets up too. We pick up our clothes and I lead him to my bedroom. We settle under a sheet, the weather being too warm for anything thicker. The ceiling fan above us hums and cools us off as we cuddle.
"Goodnight, Edward," I say, hugging him tightly.
"Goodnight, Chicky," he replies, kissing my hair.
We wake up the next morning, happy and rested. I keep my promise and make Edward the French toast I offered him and we both eat with enthusiasm, having worked up an appetite from our little romp the night before.
After breakfast, we realize that we both have really busy weekends. I have tons of work, plus I have a bunch of plans with friends that I already committed to. Edward also has the same packed schedule. He does seem just as reluctant to say goodbye as I am, but I think if this has a shot at going well, we shouldn't do too much too soon, and instead keep things light and fun. I'm just amazed by Edward's interest in me, but not only that, I'm amazed at how quickly and easily I've fallen for him and I really don't want to mess things up.
"I'll miss you," he confides as he hugs me.
"I'll miss you too, but we live just up the street from each other. You'll get sick of me soon enough," I joke.
"Hey, don't say stuff like that, Chicky. I like you a lot. You think I cut you off every morning for months just to blow you off now?" he asks with a smile. I think he's only half-joking.
"Aw, Edward. You are one smooth talker. Now get out of here," I tease.
"Will you have dinner with me on Monday?"
"Monday? Yeah, sure. Where should we eat?"
"How about my bedroom?"
"That would save money on gas," I reply, making a serious face even though I'm kidding. "Can I cook in your kitchen?" I ask.
"Of course. My spatula is your spatula," he replies with an air of gallantry.
"You've got a deal," I tell him, giving him one last kiss on the lips.
I sigh as I close the door behind him and immediately start counting the hours until Monday night.
The weekend passes quickly since I have so much going on. I lay in bed on Sunday night thinking of Edward and how much I want to see him again. We texted each other back and forth a few times, both of us glad to keep in touch. If I didn't know better, I'd think we were awfully smitten with each other. And the thought of that couldn't make me happier. I smile into my pillow before drifting off.
I leave the house for work the next morning and I'm sad when Edward's car doesn't pull out in front of me. I am a little early today and think perhaps I'm just ahead of him by a few minutes. I try not to read too much into it.
Delving straight into my work, a good couple of hours or so pass by before I even notice it. In fact, I'd still be deep in concentration if I wasn't interrupted.
"Good morning, Bella," I hear in a smarmy sounding voice behind me.
Ugh. It's too early for me to have to deal with this shit.
"Go away, Mike. I'm busy," I say, not even looking up.
"Well, hello to you, too. I was just coming by to remind you about that company wide meeting. It starts in five minutes," he tells me. I can feel his stupid goofy grin—in fact, I can hear his face contorting. This guy just bugs the hell out of me.
"Thanks, Mike. I knew about it, but thank you anyway," I offer, hoping he'll go away.
"Come on, let's walk over together," he urges.
"Fine," I say with a defeated sigh.
We get to the large conference room that's already packed with people. I see a seat over to the side and head for it since both seats next to it are already taken and I don't want Mike sitting with me. He has the nerve, however, to grab my arm and try to pull me over to the back.
"Let go, you dork," I snap, snatching my arm away. I do my usual 'kick to the shin and run' maneuver and settle into the seat I was originally planning on taking.
The meeting begins with the head of the company making the official announcement that he is retiring and his son will be taking over.
"Today is my son's first official day here, and I hope you extend to him the same professionalism and respect you've always shown me since I started this place many years ago. I'd like you all to meet him, but he seems to be running late," he explains, glancing at his watch quickly.
"Ah, here he is. Allow me to introduce my son, Edward Cullen."
My jaw hits the floor when the same Edward that I had sex with two days ago suddenly walks into the room.
I drop my head down and put my face in my hands, hardly believing this insane coincidence. I had no idea he was Carlisle Cullen's son. I didn't know anything about him before today. He'd only been in the office a handful of times and I'd never seen him. I didn't even know Carlisle's son's name was Edward. The buzz about Carlisle leaving was all unconfirmed until today. This was the first official announcement.
Edward makes some kind of speech and gives a brief presentation but I don't even hear most of it. I just don't know what to think. What if this freaks him out and he doesn't want to see me anymore? What if it freaks me out? It doesn't right now. I still feel the same way about him. By the time he's done, I decide it's best to make sure he knows that I work for him.
The meeting ends and he's looking down at some notes he's writing down. He doesn't notice me approach him.
"Hi, Edward," I say softly, not wanting to startle him.
He looks up and his mouth drops open.
"Yep. Bella Swan, assistant editor in the fiction group," I explain.
"I, uh, wow. I'm surprised. You didn't want to talk about work. I had no idea," he says, raising his eyebrows as he speaks and running his hand through his hair. He looks like he must be just as surprised as I was when he first walked into the room.
"I know. I had no idea either. I didn't know who was replacing Carlisle. I'd never even seen you here before," I reply.
We look at each other for minute. And in that minute, I decide it doesn't matter. I haven't seen him for two days and it felt like I hadn't seen him in months. I wouldn't be reporting to him directly. I would be able to keep this separate from work if I had to, and I knew I could.
"Have lunch with me," he says, gathering up his things and ushering me out of the room.
"Sure," I reply, eager to talk this out with him. I grab my purse from my desk drawer and head for the front door. Edward is standing outside and I can see him there. Just as I'm about to go to him, someone starts walking with me.
"Hey, Bella. Wanna grab a bite with me?" Mike asks.
"No, I already have plans," I tell him, not even looking at him.
I exit the front doors and try to walk up to Edward, who's only about fifteen feet away, but Mike grabs my arm like he did earlier.
"Come on Bella, quit being a tease already," Mike complains gruffly, in a voice that is a little too loud.
Before I can even blink, Edward is in Mike's face.
Oh shit. Newton, you messed with his toy. Bend over and kiss your own ass goodbye.
"What are you doing? Let go of her arm," Edward says angrily, his mouth snarling.
"Oh sorry, Mr. Cullen. We were just joking around," Mike answers nervously, putting his hand down limply and stepping away from me.
"Bella, has he done this before? Touched you when you didn't want to be?" Edward asks, his tone impatient and agitated. I don't answer. I don't want to lie but I don't want to make Edward any angrier than he already is.
"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he replies. "What's your name?" he asks Mike.
"Mike Newton," he answers before clearing his throat. His face looks panicked.
"Mike, if you ever come near her again, if you so much as look at her funny, I will make you regret you were ever born," Edward promises, poking Mike in the center of his chest with his index finger as he speaks. "Is that clear?"
"Yes," Mike answers nervously before turning and practically sprinting back into the building.
"Edward," I say, looking up at him with my head tilted sideways. "That's not the best way to start a new job. You didn't need to threaten him. Mike is an idiot. Well, I mean, he's annoying and I'm ruining my good shoes by kicking him constantly but that's about it," I explain with a slight smile.
"I didn't like the way he grabbed you like that," he replies with a furrowed brow. He still looks angry, and his chivalry is just too endearing. I sigh lightly.
"You're too good to be true, you know that?" I tell him as I stroke his cheek. He puts his arm around me and leads me to his car.
"You're pretty awesome too, Chicky," he says back, kissing my cheek sweetly.
"How do you feel about dating your employee?" I ask, dreading his answer.
"It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. We don't work together directly," he answers softly. He already seems a lot calmer. It makes me feel good to see that I can make him calm and ease his mind.
We get inside his car and before I buckle up, I give him a nice, warm kiss.
"That's just so you know that it doesn't bother me," I say with a wide smile.
We have lunch that day and every day for the next several months. We're able to keep work and home pretty separate, and for a long time no one at work even knew we were together. A few people notice us coming and going a lot but we make an effort not to be affectionate with each other at work.
My lease is up at the end of this month and somehow Edward manages to get me to agree to move in with him. I've been gradually spending more and more time at his house anyway.
"I know you don't agree with me, Edward, but I really do think this house is too big for one or two people," I say as I begin unpacking the last of my boxes. We're in the bedroom. Edward's sitting up on the bed with his laptop while I put some of my books away on the bookshelf.
"Well, yes, but we'll fill it with kids," he says casually, not looking up from his computer.
"With what now?" I ask, my mouth hanging open.
"Kids—you know, what humans are before they grow into adults. They make a lot of noise and cost a lot, but I hear it's worth it," he jokes.
"You want to have kids with me?"
"Uh, I can't give birth to them myself, so yes; I'd need your help with that."
"Edward, quit joking."
"Come here," he says, gesturing for me to come over to the bed. He puts the laptop on his bedside table. I join him on the bed and he puts his arm around me.
"Of course I want to have kids with you, Chicky. I want to get married and have all that with you. I love you, Bella, you know that," he tells me, putting his hand under my chin. We've been saying 'I love you' for months now.
"I love you, too. And I'm so glad I rear ended you," I reply.
"Don't say words like 'rear end,' you know what it does to me," he says, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Well, I do like to talk dirty," I tease with a giggle.
"Ooh, you naughty little vixen!" he accuses playfully as he covers my face with kisses.
Thanks again to everyone for waiting, and especially to AngryBadgerGirl, an explanation IS on the way...