A Face In The Crowd Contest
Pen name: chartwilightmom
Title: Lunchtime, Loud Music & Limos
Primaries: Bella & Edward
Summary: An unusual lunchtime traffic jam during music fan Bella Swan's lunch hour proves to be interesting and beneficial to lead guitarist Edward Cullen.
Word Count: 2435
A/N: This is an example for this contest. This also happens to be a personal fantasy of mine. Hope you enjoy!
The most sacred moment of the workday, well, other than the end of the day when I get to go home.
But lunchtime during a nice spring day is just icing on the cake, the sun shinning and the weather so warm that you want to walk around in a bathing suit all day.
But since I can't do that, I'll settle for a nice flowing sundress, comfortable sandals.
The clock turns to noon and I grab my purse and my little cooler with my lunch.
"Ben, I'm going to lunch. Be back soon," I yell walking to the front door.
Leaving the air conditioning building, my body shivers to the new-found heat of the outside, sending gooseflesh all along my pale skin.
I climb in my Jeep, pull out my iPod, searching and finding just the right songs to listen to.
Tonight, there is a well-known band that has a tour stop here. I can't afford tickets, but I have all their albums. So I select my favorite to listen to, hit play and place my iPod in the dock as leave the parking lot.
Driving down the road, I enter the highway and get about a mile down before I am brought to a halt in a traffic jam.
"Shit, why did I go this way?" I scold myself for taking the highway to run a quick lunchtime errand.
Sighing, I lean my head back, close my eyes and enjoy the sunshine. The warmth of the rays is comforting. I listen to the music, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel and bopping my head to the beat. My favorite song of theirs comes on and I crank the music louder and start to sing along.
I open my eyes and look around to see what is holding up everyone further up the road as well looking at everyone around me. Everyone has their windows rolled up, talking on their phones and busying themselves. Directly to my right, I notice a long limo, black with blacked out windows.
Staring at the windows, I wonder who is inside. I always wonder who is inside a limo when I see it; someone famous, a business tycoon or perhaps someone who has just won the lottery. Trying to ignore the random thoughts I continue to sing, hoping that whoever is in the limo can't hear me singing.
The traffic continues to sit, so I put my Jeep in park and turn off the engine as I pop open my lunch and take a bite of my sandwich, my body still moving along to the music.
More than a few minutes go by, my sandwich is gone, and traffic is still standing still. I hear a few car doors open around me, probably just people stretching their legs, or getting something out of their trunks.
As I continue to enjoying my music and the sunshine, I am greeted with a lustrous voice.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
I turn to my right, the direction from which the voice is coming from, to see my ultimate wet dream in the flesh.
I take a huge gulp of air before attempting to speak. "Oh, my fucking God, Edward Cullen," my unfiltered mouth spews out.
"Um, hi," he starts.
Edward Cullen is the brains and lead guitarist for the well-known band that is in town tonight.
Edward Cullen is sex on legs. His hair has its own Facebook fan page as well as women all over the world that lay awake at night pinning to know what lies underneath his jeans.
"H-hi," I stutter.
What in the fuck is Edward Cullen doing standing in the middle of the highway, much less talking to me?
"Well, is it?" he asks smiling.
"Sure, I mean, no, it's not taken," I correct myself.
Geez, talk much, Bella?
His smile increases and he hops into my Jeep, taking the empty passenger seat.
I stare in wonder as to the oddity of this situation as he begins to talk. "I love this song."
"Yeah, it's one of my favorites," I speak without thinking of whom I am talking to.
He blushes and laughs as I respond by laughing as well.
"Sorry," I whisper.
We sit in silence a minute before he speaks again.
"I was just 21 when I wrote this song. It took me all of one day."
"Wow," I breathe.
I know all the stories of his songs. I have read everything about them. But to hear the story for my own two hears, wow.
Just as I start to stare at him again, I wonder if it is a delusion, a true sign that I am going crazy. I reach out and stroke his cheek with my hand.
He sighs and leans into my touch.
Holy mother of God.
"Fuck," I mumble.
Realizing not only that I just touched Edward Cullen, and he seemed to like it, that he must have come from the limo to my right. I look back and see the three other members of the band standing outside of the limo, leaning against it.
"Holy fuck!" I state.
"What?" Edward asks.
I point back to the others standing around the limo, all watching Edward.
"Yeah, we've been in that stupid limo for hours now, we just had to get out and get some fresh air," he explains.
"But why did you come up to me?" My curiosity getting the best of me, I had to ask.
"You were singing our songs. You're a fan." He points to my iPod and grins.
I smile at his honesty and bask in the moment that is before me.
"I'm Bella," I offer my hand to shake his. "A fan."
"Edward Cullen," he smoothly states returning my handshake.
From the moment that his fingers met mine, my skin responds, a prickling sensation spreading quickly through my body, centering back to my now screaming-to-fuck-Edward-Cullen lady bits.
The contact last longer than normal, neither of us wanting to relinquish and my whole body breaks out into a blush that is sure to make me look like I am getting sun burned.
Hello, Edward, meet my blush.
Edward rubs his thumb over my skin before releasing my hand.
"So, Bella. Tell me, are you going to the concert tonight?"
"Um, no," I groan.
"Why not? You're a fan, right?"
"Yes, it's just…money," I grumble.
"See, I told our manager that the tickets are too expensive on this tour," he complains more to himself than me. "I begged them to let us play smaller venues where we could control the price of the tickets, but no, they wouldn't fucking listen to me."
"Hey, don't worry about it. I have all your albums, so I can hear your music all the time," I offer.
He blinks, staring at me like I just told him the meaning of life.
"That's not good enough, every fan should have the chance to come. And I want you to come," he confidently states.
But when he says the word come, I don't think about coming to the concert. I think about Edward's head between my legs, then his long talented finger then finally what the tabloids say that he is hiding in his pants, all on my body, making me, hmmm, come.
"Bella?" he calls me back from my lustful thoughts.
"Yes?" I purr.
"Would you like to come?"
"To the concert?"
"Are you kidding?" I scream.
From behind us, I can hear the rest of the band laughing.
"Yes. A fan like yourself should be front and center."
Oh fucking swoon.
"Ok, but what can I do to pay you for the ticket?" my stupid non-filtered mouth speaks.
He leans closer and wiggles his finger at me, motioning me closer. Blushing even harder, and my breathing sounding like I am either going into labor or I am going to pass out, I lean forward.
"Would you be upset if I asked for a," he pauses. "A kiss?"
He reaches on of his gifted fingers and strokes my cheek, sending more those strip-me-here-and-now-take-me-however-you-want feelings along my skin.
"A kiss," he coos.
Edward Cullen wants to kiss me, or he wants me to kiss him.
Edward Cullen who is sitting in my Jeep, in the middle of my lunch hour, with his music blaring from my speakers, and his limo next to us with his friends watching us.
Holy Fuck! Edward fucking Cullen!
As I breathe, trying to steady myself, my unfiltered mouth speaks again for my non-working brain, "Why?"
"Well, there are many reasons why," Edward purrs at me, leaning closer still, his warm, cinnamon breath caressing my face.
"You're a fan. And I'm not talking about just some teenager who buys our records cause they hear us on the radio. You are the kind of fan that listens to the words, memorizes them, and thinks about their meaning; the kind of fan that drives around singing the lyrics to a non-top 40 song at the top of her lungs.
"You're beautiful, and sexy and all I have wanted to do since we got stuck in this traffic jam is to come over here and kiss you. If I have to us my star power to get this kiss, I will. If I have to bribe you with front row concert tickets, I will. If I have to follow you around for the rest of your life, I will."
Leaning even closer to him, my body is on a course of its own, falling into the magnetic pull that Edward has over my body.
His fingers are still on my face, whispering along, pushing back, into my hair, leaving his thumb to rub tenderly against my jaw.
Oh what the fuck am I stopping this for? Kiss him!
I follow my inner monologue and push myself closer to him, the world around us swirling, creating this private bubble between us.
He hand tightens and draws me closer, our lips touching, tracing gently, before our tongues peek out to greet each other.
His other hand moves to my waist, gripping, pulling and pushing me at the same time, indicating his own struggle to maintain this as a kiss instead of a full-on make-out session.
Both of my hands act out their own fantasy of tangling themselves in this luscious hair. Immediately they relay back that it is indeed the softest fucking thing next to a baby's bottom.
I moan in reaction to not only the kiss, but the moment, this perfect moment that I will never get to have again.
How many times in my life will I ever meet a celebrity? Much less one of my favorite celebrities? And then what are the chances added on top of that, that he would want to kiss me?
A zillion to one. But this is the one. Better make it count.
Our kissing increases with a frenzied passion, his hands giving up their fight to push me away, pulling me closer to him, asking silently to press his body against mine as his hand moves to my back, pulling me closer.
We break instantly like some damn buzzer from a game going off.
"Fuck," he groans. Looking back over his shoulder he can see the lead singer of his group, Jasper Whitlock waving him back to the limo.
I look then rotate my head to look in front seeing people getting back in their cars, and traffic starting to move.
He turns his gaze back to me before speaking, "Please come tonight. Stay for the after party, come on tour, marry me, have my babies."
He pouts, and I can't help but lean forward and kiss his pouting lip.
"Why don't we start with me coming to the concert tonight and see where that takes us?" I offer.
He grins. But it's just not any grin. It's an Edward Cullen take-off-your-panties-throw-them-on-stage-and-let-me-love-you grin.
"My perfect fan," he whispers.
Jasper comes up just as Edward kisses me one last time to inform him that they have to go. He hands Edward a phone causing Edward to drop another one of those grins.
He hands it to me. "Number?"
I smile brightly and quickly enter my number, checking it once before handing it back to him.
He immediately dials the stored number, causing my phone to ring from my purse. I pick it out listening to it playing my custom ringtone, which just happens to be his song that I was singing just a short time ago.
He grins and hits the end button. "Can I call you later with some details?"
"Call me, play to me at your concert, write me new music, but definitely kiss me again," I brilliantly reply.
"I can do that," he purrs. He kisses me then before I know it, his lips are ripped from mine, and we are waving at each other as he is pushed back into the limo.
I sigh start my Jeep back up, edging forward holding back just a bit to stay side by side with the limo.
The window rolls down and Edward is there, grinning at me. I giggle, smile and wave. As the speed picks up, his limo moves forward.
I watch as he waves, speeding along, pulling away from me.
As I move along, I glance down at the clock to see that my lunchtime is almost up, the traffic jam and the unique encounter with Edward Cullen occupying what is normally available to me.
Arriving back at the office, I park, pull my iPod out of the dock, gather my things and in a daze walk back into the office.
The rest of the afternoon is a blur, my thoughts returns to Edward's soft lips. I keep wondering if it was a dream.
As five approaches, my phone rings, and without looking to see who it is, I answer it.
"Bella," Edward purrs into the phone.
"Hi, Edward," I reply.
"Are you still coming tonight?"
"Good, give me your address, I'm going to send the limo," he explains.
I give him my address, say good-bye, rush home and change clothes quickly.
Hearing a honk from the street, I can only assume that it is the limo. I rush down stairs and fling open the front door, only to be met by Edward.
"You're going to be late for your own concert!" I screech.
"Nope," he reassures me. "We aren't taking the highway this time."
He takes my hands and pulls me off to the awaiting limo.
A/N: I encourage everyone to write, get a beta and enter this contest. You never know until you try *wink*