Thanks so much to MsKathy for giving us this opportunity to contribute to such an amazing cause. Thanks to all of you who donated to the relief effort in Haiti. We're so proud to be a part of a community that cares.

Thanks to annanabanana for going above and beyond the call of duty to beta this little piece of fluff. If you read our multi-chaptered AU fic, Stranger than Fiction, you'll find this quite a departure in tone. We had a lot of fun with it and hope you enjoy. XOXO ~MV.

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

On the Double

When I'd registered with the casting agency, I never really thought I would get a call. I mean, I could see the resemblance between myself and Jessica Stanley, but I figured there must be a hundred experienced actresses lining up to serve as her stand-in on films.

I wasn't even an aspiring actress. I was pretty sure I could handle simple directions like "stand here" and "walk over there," but my long-term goals were more level-headed; I was in my second year of law school at USC.

But even with my student loans, money was tight. Living in Southern California was certainly not cheap and my dad, Charlie, had already depleted his savings putting me through undergrad at the University of Washington.

I was on my second week of the ramen noodle diet when my friend Angela convinced me to look into stand-in work to help pay the bills.

The casting director had called me a few days ago, asking if I could be available to start immediately on a Carlisle Cullen film that was already well underway in filming - some romantic drama.

The circumstances, she warned, were a bit unusual. Filming had already progressed beyond the lighting and scene-arrangement phase, so stand-ins were no longer needed. But Jessica Stanley's body double had come down with the swine flu, so they needed a replacement on short notice. It was unusual, though not unheard of, for a stand-in to also serve as a body double for a lead actor. The main difference between the two was that body doubles actually appear on film, while stand-ins were used before filming began to adjust lighting and block scenes. In this case, the film was on a strict budget and a tight deadline that had already been pushed twice. There was no back-up for the body double and the studio insisted a replacement be brought in on short notice.

Simply put, I was wholly unqualified, completely inexperienced and nervous as hell at the thought of actually appearing on camera. But any misgivings I had flew out the window when she'd mentioned the film's star: Edward Masen.

Edward Masen?

It was an offer I couldn't refuse. He was, indisputably, the sexiest, most talented actor I'd ever had occasion to swoon over - and the only one I'd ever actually written fan mail to. Of course, that was back in high school. I liked to think that with maturity, my obsession with Edward Masen had ripened into a simple appreciation of his beauty and of his craft. And his smile. And his ass.

At twenty-eight, he was just five years older than me. My favorite picture of him was his most recent cover for the "50 Most Beautiful People" edition of People magazine. In the shot, he was leaning against a wall, bracing his weight on one sinewy forearm. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a crisp white button down, unbuttoned, exposing his perfectly sculpted chest and abs. His signature facial expression was the shy smile that had melted my heart when I first saw him play the rookie pitcher in the movie Fastball eight years ago.

He'd grown up since then, of course, but he still retained the boyish charm that had lured me in when I was a teenager. The fact that his fan base had graduated from "PG-13" to "R" didn't hurt matters any; with each film, the characters he played became a little more brazen. A little less inhibited. And a lot more naked.

Now I was in my beat-up old Chevy Truck, driving to a soundstage.

And I wasn't simply going to be meeting Edward Masen; I was going to be filming a sex scene with him.

I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white and then sucked in a few deliberate breaths in a vain attempt to calm my nerves as I pulled into the lot and parked my truck. A young production assistant, with clipboard in hand, was waiting in the parking lot to usher me through the soundstage door.

"Bella Swan?" He stuck out his hand. "I'm Mike Newton. I'll be escorting you to the set."

I was grateful for the distraction Mike's presence provided as he whisked me through the halls to a small dressing room. There was a strip of masking tape on the door over which my name was written in black magic marker.

"Alice will be doing your make-up. I'm at extension twenty-five if you need anything at all." He patted my hand reassuringly before opening the door and motioning for me to enter.

"Bella?" A tiny raven-haired beauty was already in the room, unfolding a velvet pouch filled with make-up brushes.

"Uh, yeah, I mean, yes, I'm Bella," I stuttered. God, I could hardly keep it together for the make-up artist. How was I ever going to get through this?

"I'm Alice." She reached her hand out and shook mine briskly, gesturing for me to sit in the chair facing the vanity. She set about pulling my hair out of the confines of my ponytail and fluffing it around my shoulders. "Nervous, huh?"

I met her gaze in the mirror. "That obvious?"

"Well, I know you're new to this, so I imagine shooting a sex scene with Edward Masen is probably pretty intimidating." She was gently tugging at my hair with her brush, smiling sweetly at my reflection as she spoke.

I stared down at my hands, picking nervously at my fingers. "Yeah, I mean, this wasn't quite what I expected for my first day on the job."

"Well, I don't blame you for being a little jittery, Bella. That's perfectly normal." She stroked my hair softly now, rolling it into large Velcro rollers as she worked. "Of course it's a bit unconventional for him to be shooting a scene with an untrained double - much less a sex scene - but I promise there's really nothing to be scared of. Edward is a consummate professional. I've worked with him on five films now, and I promise he'll make sure you're completely comfortable."

I glanced back up to meet her eyes, giving her a grateful smile in return for her reassuring words. "Thanks a lot. I'm sure it will be fine. It's just . . . well . . . "

"You've worshipped Edward Masen for years? You think he's the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of the earth?" she quipped, quirking an eyebrow at me in the mirror.

"Yes! Exactly!" I burst, embarrassed by how easy I was to read.

"You and me both, honey. Now, I've never had to get in bed naked with him, not that I'd complain," she waved her hand before continuing, "but I was terrified the first time I met him, and he went out of his way to put me at ease."

My hair was now fully encased in giant pink rollers. "I was expecting him to be this arrogant asshole who just happened to have a face carved by the gods and a perfect ass." She began daubing foundation on my forehead and brushing it into my skin as she continued, "And don't get me wrong, sweetie. I've touched that face. Seen that ass. Both are just . . . well, they're goddamn edible is what they are. But even though he could obviously go home with any woman he wanted, any night of the week, he's actually quite polite and reserved on movie sets. He's a bit of a prankster, I guess, but otherwise is a perfect gentleman. He spends most of his free time alone in his trailer, reading or preparing. I know he'll be nothing but professional with you, Bella." She began applying blush with a soft fur brush. "Just take a deep breath and relax."

I was feeling a bit better after Alice's pep talk, though my stomach was still turning somersaults at the prospect of stripping my clothes in front of a room full of onlookers.

When Alice finished with my make-up, she unwound my rollers and fluffed my hair. I pursed my lips as I looked at my reflection. My hair was wild, tousled in long loose curls. My cheeks looked naturally flushed, and my eyes were impeccably enlarged with Alice's expert hand. I let out a low whistle as I took it all in. I had never looked so sexy in my life.

Alice smiled proudly down at me, handing me a small packet of papery beige material.

"Here are your pasties and thong. Your robe's on the back of the door. I'll leave you alone to get ready. Go get 'em, Bella!" She winked at me before squeezing my hand and breezing out of the room.

She closed the door with a muted click, and I scurried over to lock it behind her. Balancing the tiny plastic bag in my palm, I held it at eye level, simultaneously amazed and terrified that such a small container could house all the garments I'd be wearing for most of the day. I inhaled deeply through my nose and pushed the air out, hard and fast, through my mouth, before peeling off my clothes as quickly as I could. I shimmied into the thong, slapped the pasties over my nipples, wrapped the robe around myself, and then scampered out of the dressing room before I lost my nerve.

I strode toward the soundstage hurriedly before I realized that I had no idea where I was going or what the hell I was doing. Just then, I felt two huge hands - paws, really - squeeze my shoulders.

"You must be Bella," a deep voice boomed as he spun me around to face him. "I'm Emmett. Your Assistant Director. The Doc to your McFly. The Mr. Miyagi to your karate kid. You need anything, you just ask me. Capeesh?" He stuck his hand out and grabbed mine, pumping it up and down enthusiastically.

"Yeah, capeesh," I laughed. "Definitely. Thanks!" His excitement was infectious, and for the first time, I thought today might actually be fun.


I heard him before I saw him. Or rather, I heard the hushed whispers, the gasps and the nervous giggles that preceded his presence. Then, as I painstakingly peeled the label off my Evian bottle in one long, thin, strip, the set began to whir with a frenetic energy, a high voltage current of electricity which sprung from Edward Masen, buzzed throughout the room, and shocked me right to my core. My pulse throbbing in my temples, my cheeks flushed, I snuck a glance in his direction.

Oh, heaven help me.

A gaggle of women surrounded him, but I could still make out the shock of unruly copper hair atop his head. I felt a surge of relief, pleased that he'd let his hair grow out from the buzz cut he sported in his last movie, a war film.

Because mugging down with a close-cropped Edward Masen would have been so disappointing.

I tried not to stare as he padded around the room, choosing instead to pick the nonexistent lint from the cuff of my luxury bathrobe. Sitting in my director's chair, I crossed my legs and bobbed the right absentmindedly over my left, desperately trying to appear disinterested. Uselessly trying to pretend this was just another day on the job.

But it was futile.

He was wearing a bathrobe, for God's sake.

I realized, obviously, that I was also wearing a bathrobe. The same bathrobe, in fact. But this was Edward Masen. And he was here. Separated from me only by twenty feet, a terrycloth bathrobe, and a sash that hung oh-so-loose on his glorious hipbones.

My heart thudded voraciously in my chest as I watched him work the room. Unlike me, he was completely at ease. An experienced professional. He joked with the crew, bumping fists and slapping backs. He huddled with his acting coach, studying the script and making notes. And then he retreated to the corner of the room, closed his eyes and shoved headphones into his ears. He stood like that for a few minutes, leaning his head back and swinging it slightly from side to side. Tapping his right foot, his hips began to sway in time with a silent beat.

I stared, mesmerized, at the way his long, thin fingers thrummed over his muscled thighs. Tantalized by the way the v-shaped opening at the bottom of his robe inched higher with every tap of his foot. And utterly paralyzed by the noticeable bulge that twitched and bounced with every swing of his hips.

"Wow," I sighed, shaking my head before sinking back into the chair.

"Everything ok, Bella?"

Oh, God. Emmett was standing a foot away from me, waggling his eyebrows. He had seen me staring. Swooning.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "This is just - it's all - it's a lot to process," I explained.

"You'll be fine," he promised, patting my knee. "He's actually very normal. And we're all professionals here," he reassured. "But you might wanna get the fan-girling out of your system because we'll be starting in a few minutes."

"Right. Yes," I smiled, only slightly mortified. A definite improvement. "Consider my system cleared."

Emmett smiled at me and held his fist up to bump mine before turning on his heel and walking directly over to Edward. I couldn't hear them from where I sat, but Edward's eyes shot in my direction.


Emmett was telling him all about my pathetic schoolgirl crush, no doubt. I felt my cheeks flame as Edward nodded seriously in response to whatever it was Emmett had said about me. Could this situation be any more mortifying?

Yes. Yes, it could.

No sooner had the warm flush reached the tips of my ears, then Edward freaking Masen started walking straight toward me.

Though I knew he'd seen me look at him, I pretended to be unaware of his approach. Like an idiot, I transferred my gaze to the wall behind him.

As if any woman within 100 yards of him could ever be unaware of his approach.

God, I was pathetic.

When he was about five feet from me, I finally mustered up enough courage to look at him.

Holy mother of God he was beautiful.

"Hello, I'm Edward Masen," he said, hand outstretched. "You must be Jessica's double."

Uh, yeah, I think I've seen you somewhere before. Like on the wallpaper of my MacBook.

"Hi, Edward," I managed as I shook his hand. "I'm Bella. Bella Swan."

"Well, Bella, it's a pleasure to meet you. I realize the circumstances are a little . . . unusual. I mean, I usually at least take a woman to dinner before we wind up naked in bed together," he quipped.

Oh, God. I felt the scarlet rush back to my face as a teasing smile played at his lips.

"Um, uh, well-"

"Oh, Bella," he laughed. "I'm obviously kidding. Look, I know it's weird, but just relax. I won't bite."

Damn, that's too bad.

I worried my bottom lip with my teeth, willing my brain and mouth to work together to form a sentence. An appropriate one. That I could say out loud this time.

"Yeah, ok," I replied lamely. "I mean, yes, I know. It's just my first time doing this, and I'm a little nervous," I explained.

And the fact that you're about to bury your face between my pasties isn't helping matters.

"Yeah, well, we've all been there," he nodded sympathetically. "And have all lived to tell about it. I remember my first love scene like it was yesterday. The racing pulse, the clammy hands, the butterflies in the stomach. But now it's old hat. And it will be for you someday, too," he vowed.

"Thanks, I really appreciate you putting me at ease." Ok, I was calming down. Finally.

"No problem, Bella. Just keep your tongue to yourself, and we'll be fine," he smiled wickedly.

"Hah!" I sputtered, then blushed again, embarrassed at my outburst. "I'll try my best," I recovered.

"So, Bella, what do you do when you're not shooting love scenes? Are you an actress?" he asked.

Though he masked it well in films, he still had the slightest twinge of a Boston accent in every day conversation. I was thankful then that I was sitting down. The sound of my name tumbling from his perfect lips in that adorable lilt would have surely made my knees buckle.

Somehow I managed to respond to his question. "I'm in law school, actually. I just moved to LA last year, and some of my actor friends convinced me to look for work as Jessica Stanley's stand-in because I guess we kind of look alike. And, then, well, I got an unexpected promotion when her double got sick."

"Hmmm," he said quietly, furrowing his brow. He studied my features for a moment before responding. "Well, I suppose I see the resemblance between you and Jessica. Though I suspect your beauty is natural."

"Are you saying-?"

He held his hands up. "Hey, you didn't hear anything from me." But he proceeded to plant one fingertip on his nose, and another on his chest.

"Really?" I squealed in a pitch slightly too high.

He quirked an eyebrow at me and nodded.

I was just starting to feel comfortable. Edward was clearly going out of his way to make this as painless as possible.

Emmett's voice was suddenly in my ear as he clapped me and Edward on the back simultaneously. "Ok, you two, time to strip."

God help me.

Well, here goes nothing. I turned my back to Edward - and, incidentally, my front to the whole damn room - and dropped my robe to the floor. I was holding my breath, waiting for the crowd to gasp, or to snicker, but there was only silence. I darted my eyes around the room and realized that most people were politely averting their eyes from my near-naked form.

So they were professionals. Thank God for that.

Carlisle, the director, walked toward me then. "Ok, Bella, is it?"

I nodded.

"Ok, Bella, I just need you to lay on your side in the bed. Pull the sheet up to waist-level. You're sleeping, with your hands placed under your cheek so your elbows cover your breasts."

I crawled into bed and did as Carlisle instructed, thankful I was at least partially covered. I wasn't sure if I should have my eyes open or closed. I settled on closed, partly because I was supposed to be sleeping and partly because I sure as hell couldn't handle seeing Edward Masen, inches away from my face, clad only in a flesh-colored banana hammock. I was certain that if I did, my body would erupt into a fit of nervous giggles. Or a spontaneous orgasm.

Inappropriate either way.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to lay completely still while Carlisle and Emmett chattered on about framing the shot.

"Ok, this entire scene will be overlayed with music so we're not using mics, Bella. We'll be calling out directions as we go to get the shots we need to put this together, so just go with the flow. Now Edward, when you come in, you turn off the lamp and crawl into bed beside her. No, behind her," Carlisle instructed. I felt the sheets pull taut underneath me as Edward slid into bed. "Right, right. Like that. You're trying not to disturb her, but you kiss her on the cheek. Be . . . I don't know, precious with her or whatever."

Instinctively, I tensed as Edward sidled up behind me. With one warm fingertip, he brushed the hair out of my face before leaning in to sweetly kiss the shell of my ear and then to nuzzle his unshaven jaw against my cheek.

"Right, right. Perfect, Edward. Ok, stay there for a minute."

I lay in bed, eyes still closed, with Edward Masen's cheek pressed against mine.

"You ok so far?" he whispered.

"Umm, yeah," I whispered back.

God, my conversation skills today were seriously astounding.

"Ok, you two, we're just going to have you go with it now. You know the premise. This is make-up sex we're talking about, so Edward, we need sweet at first. Tender. Bella, you're pissed at him still, so you kind of warm to it gradually. I'll tell you when to take it up a notch."

And with that, I was engaged in the hottest foreplay of my life.

With Edward Masen.

He sucked in a deep breath and then traced his fingers up and down my arm. My flesh pebbled in response, and he repeated his path with a cupped palm as if to warm my skin. Resting his chin in the crook of my shoulder, he fisted my hair in his hands and breathed me in before running his lips from the back of my neck to my right shoulder.

"Good, Edward, good," Carlisle mumbled in approval.

Edward then placed his right hand on my waist, giving it a slight squeeze, before ghosting it across to my bellybutton and then straight up to the hollow of my neck, taking great care, apparently - unfortunately - to avoid brushing against my peaked nipples.

Damn, he was good at this.

His palm stretched around my throat, he stopped and straightened. "Ok, Carlisle, so how long do we need to stay in this position? Am I good to roll her on her back yet?"

"Uh, I actually think we need just a little bit more here. Just continue what you were doing. And Bella, you can start to react to him now."

Oh, right. Of course I knew I would need to make some moves of my own. But the prospect of willing my limbs to reach out and touch the god-like man next to me was more intimidating than I had bargained for. I sucked in a deep breath and reached for him, but hesitated.

"It's alright, Bella," Edward murmured in my ear. "You can touch me. I promise you won't hurt me."

With that, he glided his hand over my collarbone and I leaned back into his touch, feeling my nerves calm under his expert hands. Reaching my right arm behind me, I weaved his silky hair into my fingers and gave it a gentle tug. God, his hair was so soft.

He brought his hands back to knead into my shoulders before planting soft, feathery kisses on my neck.

"Ok, that's good. That's good," Carlisle praised. "Now Edward, flip her so that she's on her back and you're on your side leaning over her. Then look at her for a bit. We want to do a close-in shot of your face."

I shifted to my back as Edward leaned over me and slid his hand to rest behind my neck. And then he stared - no, burned - into my eyes with his. He was completely still, tensed for the shot, save for the thumb that rubbed circles behind my ear, and the tongue that darted out to wet his lips.

The silent stare was sexy at first. Then smoldering. Then slightly uncomfortable as the time passed. I became acutely aware that I was, for all intents and purposes, naked beneath him. And that his near-naked body was hovering over mine - in a room full of people.

His breath was warm against my mouth, separated by mere inches. His eyes were still locked on mine as I struggled to maintain the contact. The effort became nearly impossible as his eyes seemed to be moving closer together. I realized, then, that he was crossing them intentionally. Trying to lighten the moment.

I stifled a giggle, and he smirked slightly, his eyes resuming their intense gaze.

Oh, God. That smile. It was the same shy crooked smile he wore on the People magazine stashed under my bed.

"Alright, I think we got what we need from this angle, Edward." Carlisle glanced at his clipboard briefly. "Ok, this is going to be a missionary scene. I think your notes should indicate as much. Let's go ahead and shoot the penetration."

Edward nodded and shifted so that he was straddling my thighs. He rested his hands on his bare hips. "Ok, Bella," he explained, serious now. "The key here is timing. I'm going to thrust my hips forward, and, from the back, it will look like we're touching, but don't worry, I'll keep a small space between us - I've done this a million times, okay?"

"Sounds great," I said, trying to sound nonchalant though I was on the verge of freaking out. I was about to film "the penetration". With Edward Masen. My stomach rolled slightly.

For his part, Edward seemed unfazed. He continued talking, business-like, as my moment of inward panic abated somewhat. "I'll press my thumb into your side when your facial expression and body movement should reflect penetration. Does that make sense?"

"Yep, got it," I replied, convincing myself that my voice sounded steady.

Emmett came forward then and arranged the satin sheets around us, draping them so Edward was covered to just below the two dents above his ass. I, of course, was nearly naked and fully exposed, save for the pasties that did little to hide my nipples.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled deeply to steel myself for the scene. I laid there for a moment, trying to disengage. Trying to ignore that Edward Masen, aka "Sexiest Man Alive," was currently resting his bare ass on my thighs. Trying to forget that his soft lips had just swept along the crook of my neck. And trying to overlook the wetness that had soaked through my paper-thin thong.

"Bella," Edward whispered. I snapped my eyes open to meet his concerned gaze. Embarrassed, I offered him a shy smile of apology before chewing my lip. "We can take a break if you need to," he offered.

"No, no," I insisted quietly, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, Edward. I'm fine. We can go ahead."

I was ready. I would handle this with maturity. With grace.

Edward nodded and inched forward, but then paused, his eyes leaving mine to travel to my lips, and then to my flushed chest. Swallowing thickly, he closed his eyes for a beat. "Ok, let's do this," he murmured, as if to reassure me, and himself.

He lowered himself onto me then, bracing his weight on his left elbow, cupping my cheek with his right hand. His palm was rougher than I'd imagined against my sensitive skin. Despite my attempts at professionalism, at indifference, I lost myself momentarily in the tenderness of the gesture, the believable adoration emanating from his liquid eyes. Unthinking, I turned my face to nuzzle into his palm, inhaling the hot, clean scent of him. My eyes fluttered closed as I melted into his touch.


I knew that I was out of line, but I didn't care. My whole body seemed to start and end where his hand made contact with my flesh.

"Nice, Edward. You read my mind. Tender, apologetic." Carlisle's voice interrupted my reverie and I blinked my eyes open. Edward was looking straight into my eyes, his expression one of puzzled amusement.

"Bella, you're doing well, sweetie," Carlisle reassured me. "Just let Edward lead you. Ok, Edward, go ahead."

Edward slid down my body, positioning himself between my legs, poised as if he were about to enter me. I was struggling to maintain some semblance of composure as the warmth from his body heat registered between my legs. Before I had fully gotten a hold of myself, his head dropped to my ear unexpectedly. His humid breath tickled my neck as he whispered too softly for anyone but me to hear. "You are so fucking beautiful, Bella."

Oh. My. God.

I felt a delicious ache churn in my belly at his words. I knew in my head this wasn't real. That we were - or at least he was - "acting." But he'd said my name. Edward Masen had said I was beautiful.

I was lost, reeling, as he reclaimed my cheek with his hand and bored his gaze deep into my own. His left hand dropped to my waist, caressing the soft skin with his thumb.

We were acting, weren't we?

He leaned into me, pressing the full weight of his perfectly sculpted torso onto my practically naked chest.

Oh God.

A moment later he thrust forward, pressing his thumb hard into my hipbone, signaling me that it was time to react. But I didn't need the signal to trigger the look - the moan - that escaped my lips as Edward's body pitched forward into mine.

He was supposed to be hovering above me. That had been the plan. But that plan had apparently changed. The full length of his unbelievably hard cock was most definitely not hovering as he rubbed it slowly, purposefully forward, against my swollen clit. I gasped in surprise, then moaned in pleasure as I looked up at him and registered the expression on his face.

He seemed to be offering. Silently asking my permission to continue.

Oh, God. Please God, yes.

I lifted my hips in response, urging him to proceed. Please, please, do it again. The ache between my legs was throbbing, desperate for more friction - for another pass.

And another.

And another.

Carlisle seemed preoccupied, as I viewed him out of the corner of my eye adjusting settings on the camera.

Edward stilled then, despite my obvious invitation for him to continue, and chanced a brief sideways glance before turning back to me with the same slightly puzzled expression. I wondered for a moment if I had been imagining things. Maybe it was an accident? Maybe I had screwed up - unwittingly pressed up into him while he was trying to keep a safe, professional distance between us. It made sense, really. My arousal at Edward's touch, smell, smile - hell, everything about him - had far overtaken any healthy inhibitions I should have had.

Oh God, and now I'd practically molested him in a roomful of people.

But he did just say I was beautiful, didn't he?

My mind was still flailing around in disorganized chaos when his hand slid from my hip to the middle of my belly.

Oh Jesus.

He kept his gaze trained on mine and slowly, deliberately, skimmed his long fingers lower. My doubts evaporated. The room around us faded to black. Everything ceased to exist except Edward and his fingers. They paused slightly at the elastic ridge of the flimsy undergarment before traveling lower still, grazing lightly over my clit. I was at once thrilled and terrified of what he would feel if he kept going - knowing full well that the crotch of the laughable excuse for underwear was soaking wet.

But he didn't flinch as his fingers slid lower, the heel of his hand digging into my sensitive nub. His fingers fanned out to cup my swollen lips, purposefully rubbing against the soaked fabric covering the opening at the juncture of my thighs. Massaging my sex with his palm, he lowered his mouth again to my ear. "I can take care of this, Bella. Please, let me take care of this."

Oh God in heaven.

I could do nothing but nod vigorously in response. My breaths were coming shallow and fast, and I threw my head back, opening my mouth wider to silence them. Edward removed his hand from my panties and shifted slightly so that his cock twitched against my pulsing center.

His eyes narrowed as my head bobbed up and down, and a barely audible moan drowned in the back of his throat. I was struck then by the mind-boggling reality that he needed this too. That he wanted this as much as I did.

He slid slowly back down my body, his firm length dragging blissfully along my covered sex. The head of his cock thumped against my clit, and the jolt caused me, instinctively, to wrap my legs around his, forcing our bodies closer together. My head was swimming as it fought to process the physical sensation and the impossible reality of the situation.

This was really happening. I was in bed with Edward Masen. Nearly naked. Hooking up.

I couldn't help the low groan that bubbled out of my throat. Edward's eyes were still piercing mine with the same intense gaze as he leaned down to my ear once more.

"Shhhhhhhhhh," he warned, barely a whisper, before teasing my earlobe with his tongue. "No one will know," he promised, sucking the shell of my ear gently between his lips.

Oh fuck.

He curled one hand behind my neck, the other firmly gripping my hip as he continued tonguing my ear.

"Ok, Edward, that was excellent. I think we got the penetration shot we need." Carlisle's voice seemed a million miles away. "Now we just need some action shots. You know the drill. Bella, just let Edward lead."


Edward turned his head towards Carlisle and nodded once before refocusing his attention on me. His look was one of pure lust.

This was so wrong. So unprofessional.

So unbelievably hot.

I didn't care that this wasn't "real." Edward Masen was lying on top of me, grinding his dick against me, making every inch of my body cry out for more. And I wasn't about to deny myself, or deny him, what I knew now we both wanted.

The soft ridges of his toned abdomen were pressed flush against my own smooth belly, pulsing against me with his every intake of breath. His grip on my hipbone tightened and the hand behind my neck tilted my head back ever so slightly. He brought his lips to my neck then, sucking gently as he pushed himself forward again, harder this time, driving his thick cock firmly against my clit. He retreated, the delicious friction rubbing just where I needed it. I reflexively arched my back in response, and taking my cue, Edward dotted my collarbone, the hollow of my throat, and the swell of my breasts with chaste kisses. I moved with him then as he thrust forward again and again, working himself diligently against my sopping wet center.

Braver now, I latched my hands onto his waist, thumbing the contours of the deep "v" that sloped down from his hipbones as my fingers clawed into the flesh of his sides. He let out a gust of breath from his nose and quickened his pace.

I was vaguely aware of Carlisle murmuring something to Emmett as the camera pivoted on its axis. Though I couldn't be sure, it sounded vaguely like "she's good."

Edward wasn't paying them any attention. He lifted his mouth from my breasts and placed both of his hands behind my head, bracing his weight on his elbows as he gently kneaded my scalp. His jaw was fixed in concentration as he thrust his hips purposefully in quick, firm strokes.

"Nice movement, Edward. Very natural." Carlisle called from somewhere, and my mind chose that moment to become acutely aware of his presence. Of Emmett's presence. Of the five or six other onlookers unknowingly watching Edward Masen get me off.

I should have been embarrassed. Uneasy. Or ashamed.

Instead, if it were posssible, I became even more aroused. I felt a fresh surge of moisture pool between my already drenched thighs.

I wanted nothing more in that moment than to climax under his touch, to let myself fall apart in ecstasy, in this room full of unsuspecting people. To make him come for me, here, so that he'd remember this. Remember me.

I tightened my grip on his hips, digging my fingernails into his firm ass. Tilting my pelvis, I spread my legs wider and guided his movements, rocking myself against him. His eyes rolled back then and he hissed, "yesssss," so quietly that I knew I was the only one who heard it.

A rush of heat raced through my thighs and settled between my legs, and I felt my toes curl and my abs tense. I was close, and I whimpered as the tendons in Edward's neck flexed, an unmistakable sign that he was nearing his own release.

"Just another minute, you two, and we'll have what we need for the scene. You're doing great," Carlisle praised.

With that, Edward crushed his lips against mine. The kiss was greedy, hungry, as he sucked on my bottom lip before shoving his tongue in my mouth. Breathless, he frantically slid his wet lips over my cheekbone to land on my earlobe. Grinding his cock against me, he whispered, "Now, Bella. Please."

Oh, YES.

His gentle plea was my undoing. I smashed my palms flat against his ass, pressing him hard against my clit, as I exploded beneath him. My sex throbbed and my inner walls clenched as I threw my head back, imagining how his cock would feel, stretching me, filling me. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as the wave of ecstasy fanned out from my center and crashed over every inch of my body.

Edward stilled his hips, arching his back and pushing himself firmly against me. He sucked in a shallow breath as his body tensed above me, and I felt his cock pulse between my thighs as he came powerfully, silently, his emerald eyes shining with a fiery mixture of pleasure and pain.

Fucking hell.

I just made Edward Masen come.

"Perfect, guys. We got exactly what we need there." Carlisle started walking toward us, clipboard in hand. There was no time for recovery.

"Fuck," Edward mumbled, his eyes meeting mine. He looked surprised, disoriented. Shifting position, he sat Indian style in the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover me. I handed him a pillow, which he placed in his lap.

Carlisle and Emmett stood by the bed, praising our performance. "That was super hot, you guys," Emmett gushed. "Totally believable."

God, if he only knew.

"Thanks," we muttered simultaneously.

Carlisle and Emmett rushed off, chattering excitedly, while the crew bustled about the room. I noticed then that our bathrobes were laying on the bed, and I reached out to grab mine. Edward stopped me, wrapping his hand around my wrist.

"Wait," he said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"


"Um, sure," I blushed, embarrassed. This was not really something I wanted to talk about. I wanted to just remember it, fantasize about it, without the crushing blow of the "this was a mistake" conversation that was surely coming.

We donned our robes, and I shuffled behind him as he led me to his trailer. He closed and locked the trailer door, and he swung around to face me, his hands raking through his hair.

"Bella," he started, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I owe you an apology. What happened out there was, um . . .uncharacteristic, to say the least. And unprofessional in every sense of the word. And I'm so sorry. I don't want you to think I'm some skeezy perv. Because I'm not. But-"

Oh my God. Please don't apologize.

"Edward, it's fine. Seriously. You've made me feel so comfortable through this whole-"

He held up his hand. "Bella, stop. Let me finish, please. Look, whatever you think of me, I don't want you to think that you'll be, um, accosted every time you take on the role of a double. I just don't want this to ruin you on the job," he explained, his eyes trained on the linoleum floor.

I scoffed, then realized that it sounded rude and not at all how I intended. He was right that this experience might ruin me on the job, but not in the way he seemed to be thinking.

I went to him then, clutching his muscled biceps in my hands. I needed him to understand I was ok. And he didn't owe me anything.

"Edward, look at me," I insisted. He brought his pained eyes to meet mine. "What happened out there was amazing. For me, at least," I corrected. "I mean, I realize that it doesn't mean anything, or whatever, but I don't regret it. At all. So let's just chalk it up to a temporary lapse in judgment. A one-time thing."

His breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut, scrunching up his face. Opening his eyes now, he reached for my hand, rubbing circles into my palm with his thumb. "Bella, I think there's been a misunderstanding," he said quietly. "I'm apologizing for being unprofessional. And I hope that you're able to accept my apology. But I want to make this abundantly clear. I'm not, in any way, apologizing for finding you desirable. I have no shame in that."

He paused, gazing into my eyes, before clearing his throat. "And I don't, under any circumstances, want this to be a 'one-time thing.' So, I mean, I don't know what your situation is, or if you'd be interested, but I'd like to see you again. Soon."

Holy shit.

I burst out laughing, and he dropped my hand before walking a few steps backward.

"Oh, God, Edward," I laughed. "No, I'm not laughing at you. I mean, I am, but only because it's hysterical that you could possibly think that I wasn't interested in seeing you again," I explained.

His eyes flashed to mine, and his lips spread into that crooked smile that had done me in for the last eight years. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Um, yeah," I shrugged, in a futile attempt to seem casual.

"Cool," he replied, mimicking my casual tone. He closed the distance between us and stroked my cheekbone with the tip of his finger. "Well, now that we've been naked in bed together, I suppose I owe you dinner."


A/N: Thanks so much for reading and caring. We are so inspired by the money this project has raised for the earthquake victims. Loving this fandom more every day. XOXO.