This was my contribution to Breath-of-twilight's Countdown to Valentine's Day 2012- Risqué VDay!

Pairing – Edward & Bella

Category 4- What inspired these sexy times?
Two parts vodka, one part lime.

Scotch & Martini's

A/N: Thank you to Breath-of-twilight for inviting me to participate once again. I hope you all enjoy this little smutty one shot. Enjoy!

UPDATED A/N: Now extending to full story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Stephanie Meyer is a goddess and she owns everything. No copyright infringement intended.

"I hate Valentine's Day. Seriously, it's just society's way for a man to try and make up for being an ass the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year!"


"No, Alice, I'm sorry. I mean every man except for Jasper." I smirk at my best friend.

Alice and I have been friends since high school, and we both have known Jasper just as long. He's one of the very few decent men we know. Alice snapped him up a week after he moved to our little town, and they've been inseparable ever since. Even our move to the big city and college couldn't keep them apart.

"Speaking of my dear, sweet husband, I have to go. No matter how much I would absolutely love to sit here with you and get drunk, I have a Valentine's date with a very naked husband to get home to."

"Fine, fine, I see how you are."

"I'll call and check on you tomorrow. Make sure you didn't drink yourself to death," she says as she walks out, waving to me over her shoulder.

I turn back around to the bar, cocktail in hand, ready to drink this evening away. I'm not always so cynical, but after catching my third boyfriend in a row sleeping with someone else, I am officially done.

Boyfriend number one slept with one of my girlfriend's. Needles to say, bitch isn't my friend anymore.

Boyfriend number two slept with my mail man… on my couch! Yeah, that shit stung a little.

Boyfriend number three was sleeping with my boss. That one didn't really surprise me. I mean, aside from me, who wasn't sleeping with my boss?

Fuck my life.

And if it isn't bad enough that I can't seem to keep a man, I'm apparently not going to keep my job either. There has to be some kind of law for getting fired because you slapped the home wrecking bitch that stole your man, but what do I know? It isn't like I'm not a college graduate with a degree who knows better, right?

I sit here looking at myself in the mirror over the bar. I'm attractive enough, and I certainly have a good body. I'm thin and toned, but still manage to maintain some curves. I don't have any bad habits that I can think of off the top of my head. So, the question that I'm going to be pondering for the rest of the night is, what in the hell was wrong with me?

After my fourth martini, I'm definitely on my way to feeling pretty damn good. Most men keep a safe distance from me which is definitely a good decision on their part. I'm not in the mood to deal with any of them.

The bar maintains a steady flow of patrons but stays relatively slow considering the attached restaurant is near bursting at the seams with people waiting for their special dinner reservations.

I just return from the bathroom when I notice an older gentleman sitting in the seat next to mine. There's no one else near that area of the bar I'm seated in, so it has to be purely coincidental that he's sitting in the seat next to mine. I sidled up to the bar, and order another martini to keep me from looking over at my new neighbor.

The bartender brings me my drink and also sets down a high ball glass with amber colored liquid in it. I finally glance to my left and noticed he is an extremely attractive older man. Gray strands shine through his auburn locks and his face holds a five o'clock shadow. He can't be older than early to mid forties, but either way, he looks damn good for his age.

His shoulders are broad, and the suit he's wearing fits him like a glove.

I'm actually quite surprised that I'm so attracted to him. I usually don't go for someone that much older than me, but maybe that's the problem. Maybe what I really need is an older man who isn't immature and knows what he's doing.

He picks up his glass and takes a generous drink before clinking the glass back on the bar and turning to meet my gaze.

"Can I help you with something?"

His voice catches me off guard, and I'm surprised that the feeling that it provokes in me is the same one I get after my first drink after a long, hard day.

"Excuse me?"

"You looked like you wanted to say something just a minute ago when you were looking at me. I just asked if there was something I could help you with."

At the moment, there is a whole lot of things that I'm thinking he could help me with, but I'm definitely not going to be sharing that with him

"Ah… no. Sorry."

"What's a beautiful, young woman like yourself doing alone on Valentine's Day?"

I belt out a laugh, probably sounding like a complete idiot.

My face starts to heat up, and I feel a little embarrassed at my outburst.

"Me? I don't have a Valentine. In fact, I think the person who was supposed to be my Valentine is now somewhere screwing my boss. So, to answer your question, I'm sitting here with every intention of getting completely shit faced before I go home."

He quietly laughs and shakes his head, looking at the drink in his hand.

"Is that all? Well then, do you mind if I sit here with you and do the same?"

"By all means, be my guest."

We sit quietly through two drinks, and by then I'm definitely feeling the effects. I'm actually starting to worry that I'm going to need to leave soon.

Searching through my hand bag for my compact, he breaks the silence.

"My wife of twenty years decided a couple of months ago that she likes woman. Can you believe that? We have twin boys getting ready to leave for college in the fall and she felt now was the time to drop that bombshell on me. Twenty… years… I have done absolutely everything possible for my family and this is how my life is turning out."

I look over to him and see the anguish marring his features.

"What's your name?" I ask quietly.


"Well, Edward, I'm Bella, and I have a proposition for you. I think I am well and sufficiently drunk enough that if you turn me down then I won't take it too personally. I'm thinking that you need to finish that drink in your hand and follow me to the lobby of the hotel next door. We're going to check into a room, and I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't remember your name or that you're with a complete stranger on Valentine's Day."

I slam back the last of my martini, number I can't remember, pick up my hand bag, and shimmy off my stool. I start to walk away, but I don't hear his bar stool against the floor.

My shoulders sag a little in disappointment, because honestly, he was hot and now I'm horny.

A strong hand catches my hip and I feel a warm body pull me close. I can't hide the smile that crosses my face, and I don't want to. I normally wouldn't do something so irresponsible, but since I felt at least some of the same pain as Edward, I deserve this, we deserve this.

He opens the door for me and leads me to the front desk.

"We'd like a suite for the evening, please."

I look up at him and wonder whether or not he misunderstood the room comment. I thought I'd hinted that I was now jobless.

He reaches back and takes out his wallet, and out comes a black Amex. I don't know whether to be insulted or turned on because I feel like he's trying to impress me, but what he doesn't know is that I was already impressed, had been since the moment I first saw him. It isn't often that you find a man his age that looks that good. His wife was a fucking moron.

The woman at the counter is checking Edward out, and I suddenly feel him bring me closer to his side. She hands him the key card, and immediately he turns before she can thank us for our business.

We enter the elevator and there's this sexually charged atmosphere that I feel like I'm drowning in. I don't think I've ever been this excited to sleep with someone… ever.

"Why'd you pay? This wasn't your idea. I didn't expect you to pay, much less get us a suite."

"If I want to spoil my Valentine's date then that's my prerogative. I want to be able to fuck you against every available surface I can touch. Your standard room seriously limits what I want to do to you."

He says it so off handedly that I do a double take, wondering if what I heard was really what I heard.

He laughs. "You think you can tell me you're going to 'fuck me hard' and then not expect me to start thinking about what that could entail… hmmm?"

Before my flustered brain can come up with a response, he has me pressed against the wall of the elevator, and I can't think, at all. Between the alcohol I've consumed and the scent of his cologne, my libido is off the charts. I have a pretty significant buzz going but I'm not sure if that's what I feel against my body or not.

"Is that your phone?"

"Shit. Yes, but I'm not getting it. No. Not this time. I'm taking this for me and everything else can wait."

The door dings open, and he takes my hand in his again, pulling me along behind him. There seem to be very few doors on this floor and I offhandedly wonder why.

We stop abruptly, and I run into the back of him. I can't see over his should because he so much taller than me, but I can feel the air change when the door to our room opens and he tugs me inside.

I look at the room around me and it looks like an upscale apartment. Edward swings me around, and I slam into his chest. I look up at him; he is so devastatingly handsome, I can't help but swoon a little.

"Is this just sex or am I aloud to kiss you?"

"Kiss me."

His mouth descends on mine. He tastes like liquor and maybe a twinge of cigarette smoke, and man, yeah a lot of man, real man. He is an expert at kissing, and I just want to drown in him.

His hands slide down my back to my ass and he pulls me closer. Nothing could fit between our bodies.

He's quite tall, and his shoulders are broad, and I am gripping them like my life depends on him.

The world tilts on its axis as I realize he's scooped me up in his arms and is carrying me towards the rather large bed that sits at the back of the room.

He sets me down on the bed and immediately starts to undress.

"No, let me do that."

I rise up on my knees and am still shorter than he is even though I'm elevated on this bed. I slide his suit jacket off his shoulders and feel his delicious muscles tense as I run my hands down his arms. The muscles feel good against my fingers, and I suddenly can't stand that there are so many clothes between us.

I make quick work of his buttons with his help, nearly popping some in the process. His chest is defined with a fine sprinkling of dark chest hair and I am just that much more turned on. I have never been one for body hair, but this is a man, and he definitely looks like a man.

His hands are tugging at my shirt while mine are busy working on his pants. We both fumble trying to undress the other and it causes us both to laugh.

He is absolutely glorious naked, and I am so ready for him that I could scream. With a feral glint in his eye, he launches forward, covering me completely and pressing me down into the mattress. The feel of his body against mine is like nothing I've ever experienced. Every other man I've ever been with treats me like I'm fragile and can't handle their weight. It feels like he's grounding me to this earth while my head's still in the clouds.


"No, I'm good, unless you want."

He groans, grabbing both my legs and hitching them over his hips. I can feel him pressing against me and the anticipation is killing me.

In one smooth motion, he is inside me, and I literally am choking on my own tongue. He is so much larger than any other man I've ever been with… ever.

His movements are slow and measured, at first, and the only sound you can hear is both of our breathing.

In and out, over and over, at such a slow pace it is literally driving me crazy because I just want him to fuck me into oblivion.

"More… god… just… ungh…"

"You want more of this," he says, suddenly slamming swiftly into me. The force of his thrust pushes me towards the headboard, and I am so lost in the feelings he is evoking from me that I can't seem to even concentrate on where to put my hands.

Now, he's slamming over and over, and I may just die from the sensation. It feels so good that I can't focus on anything other than him inside of me. I am briefly aware that his mouth moves against mine, and then down my neck, but his hands have moved away and I think it's so he can get a little leverage with his thrusts.

"I'm going to flip you over now, baby. Hold on tight."

I'm now on all fours, scrambling to reach for the head board in front of me when he finds his way back into me. He's relentless now, holding onto my tits and sucking my neck as he fucks me. I want to cry now, because my drunken brain realizes that this is the greatest sexual experience of my life and it's with a relative stranger. I may regret this in the morning, because damn, I may just get a little attached to this feeling.

He hits so deep inside that I cry out, clawing, trying to hold on to my impending orgasm. I'm getting the dark spots and white wiggles on the outskirts of my vision and… bam…dark.

I wake up the next morning completely naked but under the covers. The bed feels so good against my skin, but my head feels like I've been whacked with a lead pipe. I shift a little, and my hips and pussy ache and I wonder how much fun I had last night. I remember most of the evening up until the most intense orgasm known to man.

I feel a large warm hand wrap around my stomach and pull me close. I'm amazed that he still smells good even after the night we've had. I don't turn around yet because I just want to revel in being in someone's arms again.

"So, how would you say your Valentine's Day turned out?"

Edward sounds a little unsure, and I don't like it. This man should never feel insecure. He is absolutely amazing.

"It was incredible, Edward. Thank you for restoring my faith in men," I say with a smirk.

"It was my pleasure."

I really want to find out how old he is, but I am too afraid to ask.



"How old are you?"

His question catches me off guard because it is exactly what I wanted to know about him.

"I just turned twenty-three. You?"

He hesitates before he answers.

"I'm forty-six."

"Edward, does that bother you? Because it doesn't bother me."


"Yeah, really."

He is quiet for a few minutes and then asks, "What would you say to spending the day with me? I don't think I'm quite ready for my time with you to be over.

"Yeah… I'd like that. What'd you have in mind?"

"A little bit of everything, but definitely more of this," he says as he throws the covers over our heads, blocking out the light and shutting out the world, restarting starting something I wasn't ever sure I wanted to finish.