Dearest Beta love, KrisBCullen - We hope that we did Ithaca "right," you proud, and smut gratuitous. Happy Birthday.

We don't own anything. If you are under 18, please to be reading one of our other stories. Thanks so much.


The Haunt

2002

BPOV

I sold my soul for a "Suicide sub." Seemed appropriate, given the name.

A week ago, I was very drunk and very desperate. In much need of a "Sui" sub from Johnny's Hot Truck, I stumbled down the street toward where the grease cart took up permanent residence each night. As was usually the case, the line was nearly a block long. Mike Newton stood near the front of that line and he'd spotted me and my disdainful glare at the others that stood in the way of instant gratification.

Sensing my weakness, Mike saw his golden opportunity. He waved me over and offered to get my sub with his, for the price of a date. He'd been relentless in his attempts, hounding me to go out with him since the summer session started. Eying the close proximity of the cart behind him, I finally told him yes. Because, dammit, I needed that sub.

Yes, I was bought for a sandwich and all things considered, in my drunken state, I thought it was a pretty good deal at the time.

For the record, I should have just stood on the damn line.

We'd gone to dinner at the Moosewood Restaurant and he'd talked for solid two hours about his favorite subject: himself. I sat politely, simultaneously smiling and gritting my teeth while saying next to nothing. I'd thought that he might have been a good one to take the sexual edge off I'd been feeling as of late, with the majority of the student body gone and the pickings slim. But no amount of sexual frustration was worth dealing with his asshattery. Finally, I faked an emergency phone call, lighting up my Nokia with my own finger and telling him that I had to cut the evening short. I felt bad lying, but I felt worse spending time with him.

I'd contemplated just walking back to my apartment but I was too keyed up, so instead I decided to grab a TCAT bus to The Haunt. It was Thursday night so I knew it wouldn't be too crowded and it was 80's night. Perfect time to put on my proverbial dancing shoes.

"Name?" The large man crossed his large arms over his large chest, looking intimating and well... large.

I spoke, perhaps a little too quickly. "Rosalie Hale." I felt a single bead of perspiration slide down between my breasts. It was a toss up whether it was due to the heat of the summer air or the humongous man looming over me.

"Birth date?" Leaning his back slightly against the door jam, he sounded uninterested. I could hear the 80's music drifting out to where we stood and felt the pumping of the bass through my feet even though I wasn't yet through the door.

I looked down, my hands playing with my skirt of my dress, and hoped he wouldn't notice the discrepancies in both hair and eye color. Oh, and the fact that I was merely average height instead of Amazonian. I really need to find a better ID. "April 2nd, 1980."

He squinted at the ID, seeming to look at the picture, but obviously not really examining it closely.

The bouncer handed the plastic card back to me and held out his hand. "Five."

I handed him five singles, and he pocketed the money, pressed a stamp into a black ink pad, and left its mark on my hand. The Haunt. Smiling to myself, I walked into the nearly desolate room, stumbling slightly over the floor and trying in vain to grab onto something, only to realize it was a beam of light that shone down from the ceiling. Graceful as ever, Bella. Blushing, I looked around to see if anyone had noticed my near mishap.

I felt eyes upon me and mine were immediately drawn to the bartender. He was leaning against the counter behind the bar and laughing easily at something one of his comrades had said, but his eyes were trained on me. He gave me an easy smile and I tingled at his appraisal. I was grateful that the darkness covered my deeper blush. Other than the hot bartender, it didn't seem as though anyone had seen inability to walk.

My body felt the magnetic pull of this man but as a new song started, my mind reminded me why I was there. Immediately, I walked toward the dance floor, on a mission. At the end of the spring semester I'd been talking to my roommate, Angela, about my lack of coordination. She'd suggested giving dancing a try. Initially I scoffed at the idea, but having come up with nothing better myself, I figured that the summer would be the best time to test out this theory. I'd found that while I wasn't able to keep from falling ass over tits while doing something simple like walking, dancing somehow made my body work the way it was supposed to. I'd shied away from it for so long because it wasn't something that I would have ever have thought possible. But there, in the low lights of the bar, with the thumping music, my body knew just what to do. The red lights that decorated the bar made the place glow seductively. I closed my eyes and just was.

There weren't many students around so I'd only make a fool of myself in front of those there for the summer session and the townies. And apparently the hot as fuck bartenders like the one currently staring me down and running his hand through his hair.

To my surprise, the temperature inside was much the same as it had been outside. Every now and again I'd feel a blast of lukewarm air, cooler than the stagnant heat that surrounded me. There were a few people on the dance floor but it was mostly empty and I had adequate room to move around and just get lost in my own little world for awhile.

A 10,000 Maniacs song started, and I twirled along with Natalie Merchant's voice before swaying my hips to the rhythm of the song. I felt a presence in front of me and knew it was one of the men who had been sitting at the bar. He must have thought he'd be able to just walk up and start dancing with me. I pulled away, not interested in the offer. It's not how I operated. I wasn't interested in just anyone.

After a few songs, my hair was sticking to the nape of my neck and my skin felt flushed. Taking a break, I walked to the edge of the bar closest to the dance floor and noticed the bartender who'd seen my grand entrance into the club. He was making his way toward me. Mike Newton didn't hold a candle to him, that was for sure. He was wearing a black t-shirt with The Haunt's logo stamped on the front and a white hand towel was tucked into his jeans pocket. His hair was a mess - a mix of the humidity and his hand constantly running through it. As he swaggered closer, his eyes caught mine and although I didn't have to flash any cleavage to get his attention, I automatically leaned forward to do so anyway. On busy nights, sometimes it was the only way to get a drink in a reasonable amount of time. That night, I just felt like playing.

Throwing a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of me he leaned forward so he could be heard over the music. "Whaddya havin'?"

"Water with lime, please."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. I sat down on an empty stool, watching him move behind the bar. He pulled a water glass from the shelf and filled it with ice cubes. He looked over at me, his eyes dancing down toward my chest and then up again, before he asked conversationally, "Hot enough for you?"

You are, that's for sure.

"Damn straight. But I figure since I'll be dealing with the upstate New York winters before you know it, I should just take advantage."

He placed the glass of water on the napkin and put a plate of limes next to it. "Free of charge." He said, tongue in cheek. I wouldn't mind having his tongue in my cheek. And other places. Hmmmm.

Squeezing a few pieces of lime into the glass, I nodded my thanks. I figured he'd move away, down the bar to join in the conversation with his fellow coworkers once more, but instead he stayed near me. I pulled the straw into my mouth, sucking down the water greedily.

"What's your name?"

"B- Rosalie. Rosalie Hale." I picked up the drink and pressed the cool glass against one cheek and then the other. I had nearly told him my name but considering he was working at the bar I'd just used a fake ID to get into, I figured it would be best to go with my fake name. Granted, it was a real ID, it just wasn't my ID. Rosalie Hale from Rochester, NY 5'9" blonde hair, blue eyes. Yup, we were practically twins.

His smiled widened. "Rosalie Hale, huh?"

"Yes. That's my name." I answered, frowning slightly.

"Well now, Rosalie Hale. It's a small world after all!" He pointed down to the other end of the bar where a familiar looking leggy blonde girl was standing between the muscular legs of a man whom I assume was her boyfriend. The muscular man leaned back against the bar, playing with the strap of her shirt. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. "Her name is Rosalie Hale, too!"

Fuck.

The jealous feeling was replaced with one of shame as I dropped my head down and played with the napkin that sat under my glass, rolling the corner inward. Jig is up. "It's Bella Swan."

"Why the lie, Bella Swan?"

"Well, I got Rosalie's ID passed down to me from a girl that lived on my floor. I used it to get in here tonight since I'm only twenty." Looking up, I found him staring hard, as though he was trying to see into my soul. "Are you going to get the big guy from out front to throw me out?"

"Throw you out?" He looked amused by my question.

"Yeah, you know, since you work here? I just came to dance and I don't plan on drinking," I explained, pointing to the water.

He smirked. "Why'd ya come here if you don't drink?"

"I didn't say that I don't drink, but I'm not drinking tonight. I'm a bit of a klutz, so a friend suggested dancing to work it out, maybe be a little more graceful on my feet."

He pointed to the dance floor with a long finger. "You didn't look like a klutz out there to me."

My heart leapt in my chest as I took notice of his fingers and my mind immediately raced to all the things he could do with them. Shit Swan, get a hold of yourself! "No? What did I look like?"

He shook his head slowly from side to side before taking the rag out of his pocket, wiping down the already clean bar. Leaning toward me again, I felt his hot breath brush my ear and shoulder. "You looked sexy as hell."

His comment suggested that he was interested in getting to know me, so I just smiled coyly at the compliment. Don Henley's All She Wants to Do Is Dance poured out of the speakers and I hitched a thumb over my shoulder. "They're playing my song. Excuse me." Leaning toward him, I grabbed a spoon from the utensil holder directly in front of him, not missing how his eyes took the opportunity to peruse my rack. Grabbing a few of the melting cubes from my glass, I held them in my hand, feeling the water drip between my fingers and slide off my wrist. Swinging my legs around, I pushed off the bar and walked back out to the dance floor, paying special attention to the sway in my hips. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his eyes following my every move, dark and smoldering. I figured since I had an audience, I might as well put on a little show.

EPOV

Another Thursday night in July, insufferably hot and dead as a morgue at the bar where I worked, The Haunt. Why the fuck Peter scheduled all three of us when he knew we'd get maybe a total of eight customers throughout the night was beyond me. I should take off and save him the waste of paying me for standing around with my thumb up my ass. At least Emmett had Rosalie there to flirt the monotony away. From the looks of it, it was just a matter of time before the flirting turned to earnest fucking. Typical. Those two were like teenage rabbits.

Although I knew Jazz was just as bored as I was, he handled it better. His amused smirk, which must be an inherent Texan trait, was plain on his face as he took in Em and Rose very plainly eye fucking each other over the bar. Even I could feel the wanton heat those two radiated. It was almost scandalous, and I was convinced the heat of the summer night intensified their desire. My eyes traveled between Rose and Em. He slid a beer down the bar to her and it sloshed as she caught it. I watched her lick the spilled beer off her fingers. Rose wasn't my type in the way of personality, but I couldn't deny that she was, beyond any doubt, completely, one hundred percent fuckable.

"Remember, this is a family establishment," Jazz chastised her for her blatant erotic display.

"The hell it is. Did you or did you not fuck Alice against the cooler in the back last week?" Em shot back, still enraptured by Rose slowly pulling her index finger out of her mouth like she was sucking a lollipop, or something else. I snorted and grabbed a dishcloth to wipe down the already clean bar for the fourth time in an hour.

The air shifted signaling that a new customer walked in. My gaze flew to the door instantly, as was my habit being a bartender. The new patron was a young woman and quite pretty, not uncommon things to see coupled together in this college town full of co-eds. She wore a white dress, sort of lacy, with a full skirt and little tie straps at her shoulders. Her brown hair was thick and full and sticking to her neck from the dewy perspiration that made her shoulders glisten in the pulsing club lights. Okay, maybe she was more than just pretty. I decided I'd classify her as incredibly fuckable. I watched her step further into the bar, and suddenly, she tripped over...nothing before she caught herself. Her eyes betrayed a flash of panic, worried her slip had been witnessed by the entire bar. Her eyes locked with mine for a moment and I flashed the same friendly smile I gave all our customers. I wonder what color her eyes are, I thought to myself, there was something decidedly cute about her.

The place was practically empty and no one was on the dance floor despite the DJ blaring 10,000 Maniacs. The skirt of her white dress swayed as she made a determined beeline to the middle of the dance floor. I watched her, fucking impressed with her confidence and half wondering what she was doing. I didn't understand the expression on her face, like she was preparing for the SAT. Her brow was wrinkled in total concentration, and she started to slowly sway her hips. Her head fell back slightly, her chest jutted out as if that would get her closer to the music.

Some corner of my mind was still following round three of Jazz and Em's verbal sparring, but most of my mind was absorbed in watching her. It took guts to come here alone, to step out on the dance floor by herself, without the protection of friends and the excuse of alcohol for any lack of grace she might display. It was rare to witness that kind of freedom in someone, that kind of ability to let go and just be. Before long some random jackhole approached her, which didn't surprise me, she was worth approaching. She moved away from him though, clearly not interested. Wonder if she'd be interested in me? I was tempted to break my rule about picking up girls at work. Lord knows I'd turned down a slew of whores who'd whispered seductive entreaties in my ear over the bar. This girl was different though. She was comfortable in her skin, and, apparently, not a whore. A definite fucking plus.

The song ended, but she didn't stop moving right away. Her hips continued to gently sway to a beat that wasn't playing anymore. For a moment relative silence filled the bar, and slowly her head lifted and her eyes opened. Her chest heaved in a deep breath like she was relieved almost, and she walked toward the bar. Dancing in this heat made the bodice of her dress stick to her deliciously, and I could make out every fucking curve of her breasts. I made my way down to that end of the bar, hoping she needed...serving.

"Whaddya havin'?" I asked, leaning over the bar and placing a cocktail napkin before her. Brown eyes. Pretty ones too, I noted.

"Water with lime, please," she replied in a sultry voice that belied her innocent appearance.

I turned to get her water and limes. As I moved I felt her eyes on me, following my ass everywhere it carried me It was a feeling I was used to, but instead of annoyed like usual, I felt heat. I glanced back at her, and not only was she obviously enjoying the view, but she was biting her lip, her white teeth crushing against her soft pink lip. I watched unabashedly as a tiny droplet of sweat traveled from her neck down between her tits and disappeared into her dress. If that dress got much wetter, it'd be totally see through. I bit my lip at the thought before I turned back to her with her water and limes.

"Hot enough for you?" I asked, trying to make small talk over the loud music.

"Damn straight. But I figure since I'll be dealing with the upstate New York winters before you know it, I should just take advantage."

Fair enough. Winters here were a fucking bitch. "Free of charge." I said and smiled as I sat the glass and limes down. She nodded her thanks for the drink and squeezed a lime into her glass. Greedily, I watched her take the straw between her flushed lips. Her cheeks indented as she sucked, pulling the water into her mouth.

Fuck me. Please.

"What's your name?" Definitely breaking my rule tonight. I had to try for her. She was just to fuckable too pass up.

"B- Rosalie. Rosalie Hale," she answered, pressing the cold glass to her flushed cheeks. It took all I had not to laugh outright, she had no idea she'd just been caught in a lie.

"Rosalie Hale, huh?"

"Yes. That's my name," she answered, frowning slightly.

"Well now, Rosalie Hale. It's a small world after all!" I pointed down to the other end of the bar where Em and Rose's eye-fucking was reaching epic porn star proportions. "Her name is Rosalie Hale too!" I said with mock amazement.

She looked down at the napkin sheepishly, her slender nimble fingers toying with its edges. "It's Bella Swan," she confessed guiltily.

"Why the lie, Bella Swan?"

She explained how she'd inherited Rosalie's old ID from a dorm mate, and had used it to get in. She worried I'd get the bouncer to throw her out, but I doubted that would've been necessary even if I'd had any interest in following the rules. I'd make any exceptions for her. She promised she wasn't planning on drinking and, with a wink, I assured her that her secret was safe with me.

"Why'd ya come here if you don't drink?" I was curious about that still.

"I didn't say that I don't drink, but I'm not drinking tonight. I'm a bit of a klutz, so a friend suggested dancing to work it out, maybe be a little more graceful on my feet."

I gestured to the dance floor. "You didn't look like a klutz out there to me."

"No? What did I look like?" she asked, watching my hand as I pulled back and rested it on the bar. Should I tell her the truth? Why the hell not, I wanted her. If she didn't know it already, maybe this would clue her in.

I leaned over the bar toward her and whispered (albeit loudly), "You looked sexy as hell."

She blushed ten shades of pink and smiled before taking another sip of water. Her soft lips wrapped around the straw, puckering and pulling. God damn.

The song changed to All She Wants To Do Is Dance. She sat the glass down and pointed over her shoulder. "They're playing my song. Excuse me." She reached over and plucked a spoon out of the bar station so she could fish a couple of ice cubes from her glass, then carried them to the dance floor with her.

I watched her stroll away, anxious to see if I could detect any of the clumsiness she supposedly suffered from. The low heels she wore set her shapely calves off to perfection and I could swear her hips swayed more than before. Maybe the dancing really did help loosen her up. If not, I'm sure I could think of something that would. She glanced over her shoulder at me, her brown eyes boring into mine with enough electricity to light up all of Ithaca. She started to sway to the song, her eyes closed again as she gave herself up to the music. With one hand, she gathered her hair up and held it on top of her head. Her other hand held the ice cubes, and I watched her bring them up to the back of her neck, rubbing them slowly over her flushed skin below her hairline, then down and around to her chest. Holy shit.

"Jazz, I'm taking twenty," I heard Emmett say as Rose stood up from her bar stool. Time for earnest fucking, just as I'd predicted.

"Oh, I doubt it will take more than five. " Fucking Jazz and his sarcasm. I chuckled, but kept my eyes on her and her ice.

Em was no slouch either, though. "Aww, sweetheart, don't be bitter. If you had any idea where or what a clit is, you'd be able to get Alice off pretty quick too."

"Fuck off."

"How'd you know?" Rosalie quipped as Emmett dragged her off toward the office in back.

I didn't give a shit, just as long as I didn't have to listen to it. "Seriously, try to keep the screaming down to a minimum so you don't scare off our three customers." I warned.

"I think your creepy staring will take care of that, Eddie. Stop being a pussy and go dance with her." I hated when Emmett called me Eddie, as much as I hated being called a pussy.

"Yeah, no problem, I'll just fucking work while you two screw around," Jasper volunteered.

"Great." I grabbed a few ice cubes from the machine and jumped over the bar. Dumbass. Jazz knew better than to offer himself up like that. Of course I'd jump on that shit.

She was still dancing to "her song," still rubbing the ice over her neck and bare shoulders. Her fingers grazed the ties of her dress and I found myself wishing her finger would get caught and untie one of them. Her eyes were still shut, so she didn't see me coming up behind her. I brought a cube up to her shoulder and spoke into her ear.

"I figured yours had melted," I said as I trailed it down her shoulder blade. She shivered, though I couldn't imagine why. It was hot as Hades and she'd been rubbing ice all over herself for Christ's sake. She let go of her hair, letting it fall down her back in a tumble of strawberry scented chestnut. She turned to face me, still swaying her hips, her eyes dreamily seductive and her pink lips parted as she looked me up and down. She's sizing me the fuck up.

"Like what you see?" I asked and started to move in rhythm to the music, in rhythm with her.

"You'll do," she allowed with pretended nonchalance as she stepped into me, her lips curling into a smirk that probably matched my own. Nothing fucking hotter than a confident woman.

"Do you do this a lot?" she asked. "I mean, do you dance with customers often? Seems like that would be a no-no."

"No, never, Bella. You're the first."

"Is that so Mr...?"

"Cullen."

"Well, Mr. Cullen, I'm honored." She spun around and stepped backward, closer to me. I was lost for a moment in a haze of freshly washed white cotton and more strawberries, and when she lightly ground her ass into me as our bodies synchronized to the music, I made up my mind. I had to have her, I just needed to know one thing.

"Do you do this often? I mean, let random guys hit on you at bars?" I asked in her ear and I'm sure my desire was blatantly fucking obvious in my voice.

"No. Never, Mr. Cullen."

I smiled next to her ear. "It's Edward, Bella."

We kept dancing but didn't speak anymore. With each song that played, the chemistry between us mixed into a heady cocktail of lust concocted from equal parts heat and sweat and primal attraction. She brushed her ass against me relentlessly in the pulsing lights above the dance floor and I brought one hand to her hip, clutching her pelvic bone and balling the fabric of her dress in my fist. I caught Jazz out of the corner of my eye watching with what almost looked like envy. She leaned her head back again, resting it against my chest in the most comfortable, familiar way. Our bodies moved in time with each other and she seemed to fit so perfectly against me, just the perfect height and size. Just fucking...perfect.

"What do you say, Bella, can I take you home?" I didn't specify to whose home. She turned her head and her mouth was just inches away, her lips parted and inviting. Her eyes opened and locked with mine; I'd seen that look before.

"Yes, please," she surrendered.

Taking her hand I led her off the dance floor and nodded at Jazz, the nod that said I'm getting some, cover me. Guy code dictated he give me the required response; an eye roll that meant alright fine, you fucker. We left through the back to and found my Ducati parked in the alley. Her eyes bulged when she realized she'd be climbing on the back of my silver crotch rocket. I threw a leg over and thrust the key into the ignition. The bike snarled viciously, vibrating with matched intensity as I turned the grip and fed it more gas. She bit her lip, a little doubtful.

"Hop on." I quirked an eyebrow and shot the smile I reserved for special occasions at her. Her eyes grew even bigger but she stepped toward me and threw a leg over without any more hesitation. I felt her arms wrap around me tightly, her tits flush against my back. I twisted the handle triumphantly and we speed down the alley. Ten minutes later, we were in front of my apartment building, an old industrial building that had recently been converted into apartments. We dismounted and I offered her my hand again, feeling a scintillating shock of electricity as our skin met and I pulled her toward the entrance, getting more impatient by the second to have her.

As we rode the elevator up to the third floor, the sparks between us flew like a fucking roman candle. I moved toward her and cornered her, one hand on either side of her head against the wall. I leaned in and kissed her, kissed her hard. She accepted willingly, parting her lips to allow my eager, probing tongue complete access. My hands slid from the walls to her hips, gripping the fabric of her dress so hard I had a fleeting worry I'd tear it. My worry disappeared as she ran her hands through my hair and tugged, her tongue caressing the roof of my mouth and exploring everywhere. Before I knew it, the elevator bell chimed and the doors slid open.

My apartment was stifling, the AC had been out for over a week and the worthless super showed no sign of doing anything about it. I turned on a single lamp, then quickly opened all the windows since it was marginally cooler outside. Bella stood near the door, watching me, taking in my sparse furniture that really only consisted of a gray couch, a TV and it's assorted electronics and my guitar in the corner. I turned on the stereo, pressing shuffle on the CD player. Jimmy Paige's kick ass guitar riffs from Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love floated through the oppressive air and I turned to face her.

"How about a drink, Bella?"

"Rum and Coke, if you've got it?" she requested. Easy enough. I went to the kitchen and the liquor cabinet. She followed me, leaning against the counter for a moment before she decisively gathered her skirt and hopped up on the cold granite counter top.

"Mmmm, that helps," she murmured as she shivered from the coolness against her thighs.

"Sorry it's so hot in here, the AC took a shit last week," I apologized as I handed her the rum and Coke. I then plucked the hem of my shirt and peeled it off, tossing it on the floor. It was just too fucking hot. I watched her wanton gaze take in the planes of my chest. She smirked, obviously pleased with what she saw.

"Don't worry about it, just give me another ice cube, please?" she requested, her eyes sparkling.

I took one from the freezer and moved toward her. I popped the ice cube in my mouth for a moment, then moved my hands to her knees and forced her to spread her legs. She didn't protest and I stepped into her to stand between them. I took the ice from my mouth and slowly slid it over her left collarbone, down the plane between her breasts as far as the neckline of her dress would allow. I eyed the tiny tie straps resting on her shoulders with increasing resentment. They were the only thing depriving me of seeing what I knew would be a set of gorgeous tits. As if she read my mind, she leaned back and splayed her hands on the counter top. The motion made her breasts jut out, fucking begging me to touch them, kiss them, lick them. I brought my hands up to the straps and with a slow, controlled motion, I pulled the bows apart and watched the fabric fall away from her and pool around her waist.

Perfection.

I took the ice cube from my mouth and brought it to hers, running it slowly over her lips. In response, she opened her mouth and took it from me. My fingertips danced over her shoulders, across her collarbones, down and around the gentle sloping curve of the sides of her breasts before I took both firmly in my hands. She moaned as my hands cupped her, fitting perfectly in my grasp, soft and smooth and flushed from the heat. I bent over her and licked a tiny circle around her nipple with my ice chilled tongue. She moaned, a long drawn out sound of luxurious sensuality that made my dick stiffen more. I took her nipple in my mouth, massaging her breast with one hand while my other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the counter top. She gasped in surprise at the force of the movement, and I could feel the waves of her heat through my jeans.

She was so close to me know, just right fucking there. I grunted my desire against her as I nibbled. She brought a hand to my hair and wove her fingers through it, tugging gently while she moaned again. I opened my eyes and looked at her, she was glorious with her head thrown back, her creamy neck arched as gracefully as a swan's and her quick breathing making her chest heave against my mouth. She raised her head and met my gaze, lust filling her eyes as plainly as I'm sure it filled mine. Her hand pulled my hair, drawing my head away from her. Then with both hands she pushed me away so hard I almost stumbled backward. She jumped off the counter and placed her hands flat against my chest, pushing me until I was against the brick wall behind me.

The ice cube in her mouth had almost melted and she crunched it and swallowed before her hands moved swiftly to my jeans. With a tug, she pulled the button fly apart. I grunted when she forced them, and my boxers, down do the floor, falling to her knees before me in time with the jeans. I tilted my head back against the bricks and flashes of her sucking through that straw ran through my head. I looked down at her, her white dress fanned out around her on the floor, my jeans down around my ankles. So fucking beautiful. Her hands snaked up my legs, her nails scraping my thighs as she shifted her weight and took me in her hands. A few soft strokes back and forth and my head fell back and hit the wall again. My eyes rolled and my fists balled, her touch was just the right amount of gentleness blended with heated insistence.

Then I felt it, the singular fan-fucking-tastic sensation of her soft lips wrapping around me. I hissed as she took me fully in her mouth. Her tongue was still cold from the ice. I hit the back of her throat and she paused for the briefest of moments, acclimating herself to me. She pulled back with an excruciating deliciousness and a prefect amount of suction while she traced little circles along the underside from my base to my tip. Jesus fucking Christ. I had to look down. I had to see the extraordinary vision of her working her obvious magic. I'd had my dick sucked plenty, but not quite like this before.

"Fuck, Bella," I grunted and brought my hand to her temple, running my fingers into her hair and grasping in my desperation. She moaned around me, making me vibrate as she swirled her tongue around my tip, then gently, carefully, nibbled. One more swirl around and she took my full length again, this time grazing her teeth softly all the way down. One hand moved to my ass, gripping tightly and urging me deeper into her mouth. Back and forth, over and over, each pass multiplying the fever in my blood. She moaned again and it was a sound of actual delight. I couldn't help it that my hips moved of their own accord, forcing myself into her as far as possible, eager to feel her consuming me with so much obvious pleasure. It was too much, I had to have her.

Right. The. Fuck. Now.

BPOV

His fingers tangled in my hair and I could feel the urgency in his thrusts as I tipped my head back slightly and took him further into my mouth. He grunted, "Too much," and lightly tugged me up, dragging my body against his.

Countering his statement, I moaned, "Not enough," at the sudden emptiness. I needed him closer, his skin pressed to mine, and he knew it. The aching void between my legs was growing more insistent. The vibrations from the motorcycle against my inner thighs had moved me along from want to need. Hands cupping under my ass, he effortlessly lifted me and turned me, pressing my back against the uneven bricks. They scratched at my skin but the pleasure I was feeling far outweighed the pain and it spurred me on. Our tongues tangled before I relented, letting him rule the kiss for that moment. My hands restlessly danced around the tight muscles of his abdomen before running up his chest. Wanting to get closer still, I grabbed onto his shoulders, using his body to get leverage. Nails dug into his skin and he hissed as I was now the one in control of the situation. My hair, damp with sweat, mingled with his and my nose brushed his as I took his bottom lip between my teeth. The heat was everywhere yet the air was nothing in comparison to the heat radiating off of his skin. His lips found my breasts and I arched my back, giving him better access to my nipples, which he took turns nipping and sucking.

My dress hung around my hips and was an annoying hindrance, keeping us further apart and sticking to my thighs. Unwrapping one of my legs, I slid it down a few inches to rest my foot on the floor. He held the other leg firmly wrapped at its place on his hip. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked as his lips brushed my shoulder, continuing his ministrations.

I moaned lowly. "It's too hot. We need to get rid of my dress."

Reluctantly, he released his hold on my leg and I stood on both feet before him, shimmying to Zeppelin's You Shook Me that flowed from the speakers, surrounding us and taking part in our seduction. His hands remained on my hips and he assisted the light dress to the floor. Panting, we brought our foreheads together, our eyes followed it down. The white cotton was a stark contrast to the concrete floor of his apartment.

My dress was on the floor and my defenses were down. All that separated us was the thin scrap of lacey material I'd bought at Victoria's Secret. I tilted my head back so our eyes could meet while I very slowly, worked my thumbs under the sides of the lace before skimming them over my thighs, and then they were falling toward the floor, joining my dress.

I was hot inside and out, ready for him. I hitched my leg around his hip and he grabbed it, running his hand under my ass, down my thigh and to my knee. I could feel his length enticingly close to where I needed him to be. I angled myself closer to him before once again relying on his strength to hold me as I swung my other leg back up, firm in place around him.

"Holy fuck, Bella."

"That's the idea, Edward." I tongued his ear as I spoke and he shuddered at the sensation. "Where do you want me?"

"Where don't I want you?"

He walked backward, aiming for the oversized gray couch that sat in the middle of the living room. The back of his knees hit the edge of the couch and we were both there, my knees and shins resting upon the couch and the rest of me resting on him. Reaching for my purse, I reached into the inner pocket and pulled out a condom I'd put in there early in the night. He leaned back and watched as I squeezed the tip of the latex before rolling it down his length. He groaned as my fingers danced down the sensitive skin. Once the condom was properly in place, I wasted no time raising myself up on my knees before sinking down once more and presenting myself to him. Rolling my hips toward him, our bodies united in the most intimate way possible. The fleeting thought that we had only just met was just that... fleeting. Instead my thoughts changed to more, more, more, and my body responded in kind.

His hands rested on my hips while I rocked my pelvis against his, our heavy and weighty breaths fanning against each other's skin. It was clear he wasn't able to just sit there while I moved over him because his fingers traced small patterns on my skin as he dragged them down and to the apex between my legs. The other hand journeyed behind me, splaying widely near the small of my back.

"Deeper. I need to feel you deeper," I demanded. He moved quickly, flipping us so that I was on the couch and he positioned himself between my legs. His hand grabbed one of my ankles, pushing it up and over his shoulder.

"Is this okay?" he asked, as he pushed himself into me once more. The new position opened me, and I took him further inside. I ran my hands up my thighs and pinched my nipples while he loomed over me, sexy as hell with one hand on the back of the couch and the other on my clit once more. I didn't need to answer with words - my noises gave him all the approval necessary.

His fingers worked nimbly in circles on my clit, faster and faster still. I slid a hand down to sit on my pelvis and rested my fingers where I could feel the pressure from his dick inside of me. Moaning, I tilted my pelvis up and off the couch, infinitesimally. My release was fast approaching, it had been building all night since I saw him stare me down when I'd walked into The Haunt. His fingers moved quicker and I started to unravel, my low throaty moan growing louder and more desperate until there was nothing holding me back. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I clenched around him.

As I was coming down from my orgasm, I heard his low gravelly cursing under his breath as he sped his movements and came, thrusting even further inside of me. I watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat and he leaned his forearm against the back of the couch, tilting his head and kissing me. This kiss was different than the ones we shared before. Those were needy, hard and demanding. This one was slower and it held a message of gratitude, which I returned.

Standing, I walked to where my dress and panties had fallen. In a quick swoop, I picked up the dress and put it back over my head, tying the straps once more.

"Hey, where're ya going?" He asked, splayed on the couch, still naked.

I slid on my shoes before walking over to where he was splayed. Dangling the small piece of lace fabric from a finger, I dropped the panties on his chest. He reached his hand up to grab them. "I know where to find you."

Without another word, I walked out the door and into the elevator. I didn't expect him to follow me out, so I was in no rush. Nonetheless, I stumbled a little into the confined space and laughed at myself, shaking my head. Leaning against the railing, my mind jumped back to the ride up and replayed the entire encounter in his apartment. It was definitely satisfying and not something I'd be opposed to revisiting again. Soon. The lift reached the ground floor and when the doors slide opened, I saw that it had started to rain, cooling the air considerably. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I pushed the handle of the front door open, and trotted down the few stairs that led to the street.

A small wind ruffled my dress, which I held to my body with one hand even though there was no one on the street to see me. I figured it was wise not to take the chance of my dress blowing up. My hair whipped around my head and I took the opposite hand up to push it behind my ear. Doing so, I felt someone watching me.

My eyes found his once more, he stood in the window of his living room, clad only in his boxers and his hands resting over his head on either side of the window sill. Winking at him, I raised my hand in a small wave before turning, not waiting to see if he'd return the gesture. His gaze was tangible, even though I no longer looked at him and I knew he was watching as I dashed across the street.

As I walked, I reached into my purse, pulling out my key from the little side pocket.

Glancing back once more, I saw him there in the window, still watching me.

Imagine his surprise when he realized I'd walked up the steps to my building, turned the key, and let myself inside.


mjinaspen stepped up to the plate to beta for us and we LOVE her for it!

We also love our partner in crime, TheHeartOfLife, who wrote part two. Enjoy!