Disclaimer: SM owns all characters.
"Have I mentioned I effing hate Edward Cullen?"
I groaned as my alarm clock went off.
Monday's kick my ass.
Kinda like every day of the rest of week, but this one was by far the worst.
I slowly make my way to the shower, wondering how I'm alive at this ungodly hour. Mornings suck. And they come everyday, which sucks even more. Especially morning routines. So fucking tedious, every fucking day.
I'm most definitely not a morning person, or really a people person, but unfortunately, they both have to be dealt with.
I hurriedly get out of the house, so I can get my precious hot chocolate from Starbucks, a daily essential of mine. I'm not a coffee or tea person, just a chocolate one, and I'll be damned if I'm deprived of my Venti hot chocolate with extra whip every morning.
Like I said, it's an essential to my everyday survival.
It's really a bad habit, and I blame myself for the size of my ass, but I have an addiction, and I'm ok with it.
When I arrive at Starbucks, the line for the drive up is just too fucking long, so I decide to go in, something I rarely do.
Since Christmas is in three weeks, everyone seems to be out of their minds needing Starbucks, so pretty much everyone and their fucking second cousin twice removed is here, and it's just making me extra grouchy.
Like I need one more thing in my life to be annoyed at.
Plus, the douche in front of me has his phone on speaker, which is blasting some bitch on the other end, yelling at him for not calling her back. He also has an incredibly stupid hat on, and for some reason, it looks hella familiar, but I can't place it. Once he gets to the front of the line, he takes his sweet ass time ordering. Like, he's asking what the barista suggests for him and if he can taste it.
But the minute he speaks, I know, I know that fucking voice. And that stupid fucking beanie piece of shit.
I'm instantly fuming. His voice makes shivers of anger go down my spine just listening to the doucheness that is Edward Cullen. He's wearing his usual apparel of some sort of beanie, with his crazy ass hair sticking out everywhere, some slouchy jeans, and some kind of pull over sweater that's undoubtedly name brand, with converse. He should look awful, but he always pulls it off and it pisses me the hell off.
He's the bane of my existence. The chip to my manicure. The pus to my pimple. The smell to my dirty laundry. So why did I find him so freaking sexy?
As he continues his casual and lazy conversation with the barista, Kelly apparently, I can't keep my mouth shut.
"Hey asshole, did you know there's other people waiting to get their drinks, too?"
He turns around with raised brows, his ray bans perched on his head, and I roll my eyes at him, he smirks the tiniest bit when he recognizes me.
He continues to look around as if wondering who the hell I'm talking to, then slowly points a finger at himself, silently asking if I'm talking to him.
Kelly is giving me a glare.
"Yeah, I'm talking to, you fucking prick! You're holding up about twenty people while you and Kelly here have a little chitchat." I'm cocking the bitch brow with my hands on my hips and everything and Edward just stares at me with an amused expression, his eyes going back and forth between my boobs and face.
Kelly is still glaring at me, while murmuring something about me being tactless.
People are staring now, and I hear a low murmur going through the room.
After a minute of his eyes running up and down my body with a look of mock pity, he turns back to Kelly, and asks her what her weekend plans are.
It's fucking Monday. Who the hell has plans already? Last weekend ended 7 hours ago.
When they start talking about some crappy indie band, I officially lose my shit and push past the crowd in line and back to my car, before realizing Cullen parked his fucking grandma car so crooked and close to mine, there's no way in hell I'm getting out of there without hitting his car or the one next to me.
I storm back in, feeling the heat waves rolling off me. "Cullen," I bark.
He's has a taster in hand, while he continues to talk with Kelly, who doesn't seem to care about the thirty people in line.
He turns to me and rolls his eyes, holds up one finger to Kelly, as if to say "one minute", and strolls over to me. Kelly glares again.
I glare right back and flip her the bird.
Cullen snorts. "Classy, Swan."
"Oh, I'm sorry, is flipping a bitch off too offensive for you and your ugly little sweaters?" I ask in a mock sweet voice, then return to my normal one, "Too fucking bad. Your parked so close to my truck, I can't even get in it, so I suggest you move it the hell out of the way before I just mow over your grannymobile."
He sits down at a table, and reclines back. "Actually, I don't think I'll do that. It's not my fault your ass is too large to fit between our cars, and I'm quite comfy with my soy latte, so sorry I'm not sorry, but it looks like you'll just have to climb through the back of the piece of shit you call a car and do your best with your limited driving skills."
I scoff. "I guess that was supposed to be offensive, but in reality it just makes you sound even more like a cock sucker, which your sweater is screaming loudly."
He mockingly throws his head back with a fake laugh. "A gay joke. And another sweater one. You slay me, Swan."
He takes another sip of his drink and lets out a long breath after. "Why are you still here?" He asks, crinkling his forehead.
I lose it.
And I do something completely irrational, but totally justified.
I crawl through the back window, just like dickweed suggested, and I just back the fuck up right into his right bumper.
It makes an awful screeching noise. Cullen comes out looking like he just shit a brick, and I pull forward again to hit his other bumper.
He drops his soy latte on the ground and clutches his wild, homeless looking hair.
I roll down my window. "Well, shit. Guess my limited driving skills are worse than I thought. Sorry I'm not sorry." I pull forward one more time, for extra effect, then peel off, laughing like a maniac.
My parents are going to kill me.
But, I'm on a high and nothing will stop me. Ya know, until I make it to the drive-thru, cause once again, I'll be damned if I don't get that hot chocolate.
Twenty minutes later I'm in my English class, waiting patiently for Mrs. Yates to get here, taking another sip of my hot chocolate.
Just as I'm swallowing, someone's large paw claps down on my shoulder and I'm so caught off guard, my drink flies out of my hand and onto the floor, while I start choking, having hot chocolate come out of my nose.
I turn around to find Cullen screaming at me, about the dents in his poor little car.
"-have no respect for life! You are such a fucking bitch, I swear on my mother, you will be paying for all of the damages!"
Once my coughing fit ends, and I restrain myself from attacking him for making me spill my drink, I manage to grumble out, "That sounds like a personal problem, and I won't be paying a damn penny for that."
What a fucking douche. I can't even handle his shit right now.
Have I mentioned I effing hate Edward Cullen?
Mrs. Yates walks in before he scream at me anymore, telling him to take his seat. Before he walks away he leans down to whisper, "This isn't over, Swan".
Of course, it's not over.
Cullen and I have had this war raging on since sixth fucking grade.
That's when I moved to this wretched town, and also when I met the douche in front of me.
The first day I met him, I went home and looked up all the insults on the Internet, just so I could accurately describe what an absolute insufferable bitch Edward Cullen is.
So, this has been going on for almost 8 years. And I've had it.
He thinks he's so much better than everyone else, just because his father is the lead surgeon at the local Forks hospital and his family has a shitload of old money. And he's hotter than hell.
It makes me sick to my stomach.
I like to think of myself as a generally nice person. I mean, I speak my mind, but people like me, I have friends, I'm usually pretty nice.
But with Cullen…damn. All of the bitch in me just comes out and I can't control it. It's all consuming.
We have four classes together this year. Our last year of having to put up with each other.
Or so I thought. As it turns out, Cullen and I will be attending the same college next fall. Barf on a stick.
I might have had a meltdown, or seven, after I found that out. As if my entire youth hasn't been spent hating him with every fiber of my being, I'm destined to hear about all the great shit Doucheward accomplishes in the next four years of our lives.
Oh yeah, and he's getting a full ride to NYU, for God knows what.
Here I am, I've been working my ass off working at the local diner, part time at the station my dad works at, and babysitting little shits from hell, saving up everything, and never sleeping so I can do my fucking schoolwork, while Cullen comes to school when he feels like it, does illegal things all the time, and has never worked a day in his life.
I'm not jealous.
Ok, and maybe a little jealous, but seriously? In another life, I must have been a complete asshole bitch for my life to turn out like this.
The only thing that helps me get through the day is that I bother asslicker just as much as he bothers me.
And that's almost enough.
Knowing the fact that I fucked up his precious soccer mom car, and that my hulk of steel doesn't have on single fucking dent on it makes today bearable. So I think he should put that in his pipe and choke on it.
Every period we had today, we glared at one another, and I can't wait to go home and take off my fucking bra, take a fucking nap, and most importantly not be around fucking Cullen.
It's finally last period, the cherry on top to a shitty day, because it's Physics and Edward and I sit at a lab table together. Fuck my life.
When I make it into the room, I slide my stool as far away from him as possible. There's no way in hell I'm sitting close enough to him so I can smell his repulsive cologne he must douse on himself before he leaves his house. It's so strong and heady; sometimes I actually choke.
I'm brought out of my loathing thoughts when I hear my name, and feel Mike Newton pressed much too close to me.
"Hey, Bella! How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you all day!"
We sit right next to each other in three classes.
He is so close to my face I can make out his pores and that shit is not okay.
I can only blame myself, I suppose. Last summer, I got a little carried away at a party, ended up totally trashed, and for some reason unbeknownst to my conscious self, let Mike motorboat my tits. According to him and his girlfriend, Angela, at least. Angela was extremely pissed, and had been my friend up until then.
I'm a stupid slut.
"Mike, we saw each other like 5 minutes ago." I say not looking him in the eye.
It's too personal with Mike. If you even look in his direction, he assumes you want the dick.
And I, most definitely, do not want the dick.
Fortunately, before he can carry on with his inane chatter, our teacher begins the lesson, and I'm pretty sure it's the only time in my life I've ever been thankful for a Physics lesson to start.
As Mr. Banter rambles on, I look over at my best friends Rose and Alice, who sit at the lab table across from us. We mouth to each other, and somehow, understand what the other is saying, and I'm just incredibly jealous they got seated together while I'm stuck with shithead, who is sleeping on the table, and not getting in trouble for it.
Five minutes before the bell rings, Mr. Banner announces a project that will count for our final for the semester and that it will be a partner project.
I stiffen, sending a silent prayer to whoever's listening.
Mr. Banner starts drawing names out of a hat and I begin a silent mantra in my head.
Anyone but Mike or dickface
Anyone but Mike or dickface
Anyone but Mike or dic-
"Bella and Edward," He announces.
I hold back sobs.
Edward's head pops up, while he lazily looks around the room, stretching and yawning. I can tell the exact moment when he begins to realize what has just happened.
He stiffens and his eyes are wide, alarmed. The bell rings and people start packing up. Cullen and I both run up to Mr. Banter, talking on top of each other, begging for any other partner.
"Absolutely not. What's done is done. Now if you'll excuse me, I have the last season of Pretty Little Liars to catch up on before the premiere, so bye."
Despite my absolute state of rage, Edward and I both stop to give one another a puzzled expression for Mr. Banner's last announcement, and then go back to being pissed.
"Listen, fuckface, I'm not doing more than only my part for this project, so don't expect me to help you at all." I say, crossing my arms.
He snorts. "Right, Swan," he moves to loom over me. "We both know how this is going to go. You're going to act all butch and like you're the baddest bitch in town, and then when I don't do anything as usual, and you're down to the last minute, you'll throw together an A worthy project and we'll both be happy."
"Right, and your hair looks good," I reply calmly, sarcastically.
He looks confused. "What?"
"I thought we were both talking about fantasy worlds?"
He continues to not get it and I want to bang my head against a table for him. What a moron.
I leave him pondering that thought.
There's not a chance in hell that I'll be doing this fucking project by myself.
In Physics the next day, Mr. Banner and Edward are both gone, so we have the day to work on the project. Since it's a sub, I pull a stool over to Rose and Alice's table, and sit beside Rose.
"Ugh, this project sucks ass, we'll never have it done in time," Alice mumbles, flipping through her textbook.
"Mmm," Rose hums, tapping on her iPhone.
This is why I love these girls. Polar opposites, all of us.
Alice is the maniac of our little trio. She's obsessive about lots of things: School, grades, working out, appearance, fitting in, etc. She keeps our group energetic and is always making us try new things with her. She's gorgeous and so tiny I could put her in my pocket.
Rose is the chillest person you'll ever meet. She's so fun to be around, and is such a hippie at heart; I just love it. I can't help but smile when I see the little braids she has all throughout her hair, with a feather in her hair as well. She started that damn trend.
I'm the sarcastic bitch of the group. Somehow, we balance each others personalities out so well, we almost never fight. We met in seventh grade when we were paired up for a group in gym, found out we all equally hated sports, and the rest is history.
About 10 minutes into class, the door flies open, and my nostrils detect the shit, before my mind does.
"Swan," he barks, after he gets seated at our lab table.
I pretend to ignore him, while Rose smiles a lazy smile at me, before going back to whatever it is she's doing on her phone.
"I'm not fucking kidding, Swan." He growls, from right behind me.
I look at the sub, praying he'll throw Cullen's ass into detention for cussing, but the sub is sleeping on the desk.
I look at Rose. "Do you hear something?" I pretend to look around, as if too see what the noise is.
"You're so fucking immature. Get your ass up, and do our project."
I turn around on my stool, having to look straight up at his looming figure. "Where the hell do you get off?" I ask, completely annoyed.
I cut him off. "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I have absolutely no plans to do this fucking project alone, so I highly suggest you get your shit together, actually come to class, and work on this fucking project with me, cause otherwise I'm failing, and I'm taking you fucking with me. Got it?"
He scoffs. "What was it you said about fantasy worlds yesterday? Something about how I was living in one?"
I shrug. "Whatever, dickward. Balls in your court. You know where to find me if you change that pea size mind, underneath that birds nest hair of yours."
I turn around on my stool, and start talking to Alice and Rose, pretending Edward isn't behind me.
I wasn't kidding when I said I would fail this. If that's what it takes, then that's what I'll have to do.
We have exactly one month till we have to present our project. And we don't even have a topic for it.
I have to admit, not doing this is stressing me out a little bit, but ya know what, sometimes in life, you have to break out of your confines and have a crazy moment.
I'm praying day and night Cullen comes to his senses and decides to help me. I really can't afford a zero for twenty percent of my semester grade. I mean, I'm already accepted to college, but they could totally change their minds. Plus, mom and dad would flip shit if I get a zero.
They freak out over every single thing I do.
As I get to Physics on Thursday, I see Cullen sitting at our table, and I let out a groan and walk over, throwing my bag on the table, letting him know I hate him.
I reluctantly turn to look at him, and roll my eyes when him wearing his letterman jacket, which is completely covered in patches from top to bottom.
"I uh…we…you see, I…" he stutters out.
I sigh, pulling out my folder, and getting the homework that's due today out. "Today, Cullen."
He lets out an irritated huff. "Look, bitch, we're gonna have to do this fucking project. After this class, we're going to your house and working on this fucking thing until you get a good portion of the way through. I'm willing to supply you with my opinion on a few things, but otherwise this is up to you."
I raise my eyebrows. "Sounds like you've got it all planned out. I assume you know where my house is, so I'll see you there at 3:30. Might be a few minutes after cause I have to run by Rose's, but just wait for me, mkay?"
He rolls his eyes and I smile to myself. He is such a fucking idiot.
"B, can you clear off that last table for me?" Becky asks, while she tries to hide the fact that she's texting.
I'm in a giddier mood than usual. I'm waiting for Cullen to barge in here any minute. It's around 4:45, so sometime soon.
He's an idiot, because he knows I fucking work here every single day after school. He's usually in here with his entourage at least three times a week, right after school.
Hopefully, he's been waiting for at least an hour at my house. Gah, the thought makes me fucking smile so wide, I'm surprised the corners of my mouth aren't splitting.
Right on time, I hear the screeching of tires, see Cullen somehow park in three spots with his gaymobile, and get out of the car, with his hair crazier than usual.
The door slams open, and barely even anyone flinches, which I know, bothers him. He wants an audience. He wants everyone here to know what an awful, heinous, rancid bitch I am that I let thee Edward Cullen waste a second of his precious, God-given time.
"What the hell, Swan?" He barks, fire in his eyes.
I look at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Yeah?" I stuff my hands into the pocket of my apron, walking a little closer, trying to hold back my guffaws.
The only person watching is Sandy, the town drunk, who spent a better portion of his life trying to start a local magazine with gossip about the residents of Forks.
"I waited for a fucking hour! I missed fucking soccer practice and debate for your stupid ass, and here you are, acting like nothing is fucking wrong?"
I walked over to Sandy and refilled his coffee, smiling as he whipped out his flask. "Want some more pancakes? On the house," I whispered the last part, smiling a small smile.
I liked Sandy a lot, and I felt a little bad for him. Everyone was so hard on him and he was just a nice guy. I think that in another li-
"Fucking answer me!" Cullen interrupted my thoughts, by yanking my arm, pulling me nose to fucking nose with him, while breathing heavily and wildly. His entire hand wrapped around my upper arm, and I'll be damned if I didn't gasp.
This close proximity…was…was fogging up my brain…
The sound whooshed out, Sandy's usual snorting was back noise, Cullen's hand was making tingles and goose bumps break out on my arm, his green eyes were staring so intently into mine. His skin was so perfect and his grip was so tight…. suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the intense throbbing between my thighs.
Before I fucking moaned out loud, I violently pulled my arm away from his hand, and backed up, my back flush against the bar.
"Don't touch me," I panted weakly, but it came out sounding breathy and horny. "And sorry I'm not sorry that I wasted your golden orb of time, but as you've known since sophomore year, I work here everyday after school."
I could feel the flush in my cheeks…and in a nether region of my body.
Cullen was looking just as affected as me…he was flushed, a cute, boyish blush staining his tan cheeks, he was clawing at his hair frantically, and his delectable lips were slightly parted, looking like they really should be attached to my nipple.
Fuckity fuck fuck.
Gotta stop thinking like that.
He was spluttering. "You could have reminded me!" He shouted, still yanking at his hair.
I wanted to tell him to stop. That I would do that for him when his head was between my thighs.
Oh my fuck.
I have to stop.
"Sorry?" I offered weakly, still staring at his lips, and then flashing to his eyes, that were basically just giant pupils.
Was he as turned on as I was?
Was I actually turned on by Edward?
Would I fuck him right here, right now, consequences be damned?
Hopefully, abso-fucking-lutely, and yes, yes, hell yes, with every fiber of my being, Saint Damien's beard, I would fuck him until I was blue in the face.
I need to get laid. And not by Edward fucking Cullen!
"Alright…well…um…when do you get off?"
Hopefully soon, on your dick, in any position you want.
"Fine. Friday, 5:30, your place?" His tone was softer, but he still looked and sounded pissed.
I was still flustered and all I could do was nod.
Things had been awkwardly tense…and I hated it. So fucking much. It was easier when I had lusted after Cullen with my showerhead, and then was able to go to school and hate his fucking guts with everything in me. But now…I could still fucking feel his hand on my arm.
How lame am I?
Have I mentioned I need to get laid?
Cause I do.
It had been way too fucking long. That must be why I'm acting like this.
Only plausible answer.
Cullen was all skittish and didn't even comment on my Ty-Dy vans I wore today, which he had spent the better half of freshman year berating me about daily.
Was he just out of material, uninspired, or did he feel the weirdness between us too?
On Wednesday, we actually discussed what we could possibly do the project over. On Thursday, he asked me to give him my number in case one of us had to cancel last minute.
By the time Friday got here, I was quite skittsh myself, wondering if I was on punk'd and Ashton was going to hop out anywhere, with Edward in tow, and shove a giant pie in my face or something.
That would be what made the most sense, right?
I was so confused.
I left work about 10 minutes early, so I could have some time to pick up any dirty underwear on my floor or shit like that.
At 5:32, my doorbell rang.
I quickly checked my reflection, pleased to see I was having a clear skin day; my hair still had volume, my lips we-
Why the fuck do I care what Cullen thinks of me?
Smiling to my litter sister Brie, and her friend Irina, who were watching TV, I walked to the door, yanking it open.
Cullen looked hot, as usual. Ray bans on top of his messy hair, bag pack slinging on one shoulder, and a stupid sweater.
I held back my eye roll, thinking this could be possibly smooth sailing.
"Do you want a drink or something…before we start?"
"Sure," he nodded, following me into the kitchen.
I handed him a coke can, which he opened and took a drink out of.
"Who was at the door, B?" Brie screamed.
Cullen choked on his drink.
I didn't know who to say. "Uh my project partner."
Cullen was still choking.
"You ok?" I asked, eyeing him wearily.
"That startled me…I didn't even know anyone else was here," he sputtered.
I raised my eyebrows. "You didn't hear two thirteen year old girls losing their shit over MTV? You need hearing aids to go with that sweater?" I lamely joked, realizing that was a bad one, even for me.
They were being quite loud actually. I could hear them comparing Justin Bieber to Zac Efron on a scale of hotness.
And in my opinion, Zac definitely one because case in point: his balls had actually dropped.
"Whatever, let's just get started on this." He sat at the table, and so did I.
Five minutes into the project planning, Brie came through the doorway, with Irina in tow. They both stopped short.
They both startled giggling.
"B, introduce us to your friend," Brie purred, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
Fat chance, I thought. Cullen has expressed his thoughts about my looks more than once, and from what I can tell, he ain't getting his rocks off to it.
Brie was the spitting image of myself at thirteen, down to the hair cut and even some clothes that she had stolen from me over the years.
"This is Edward," I grunted, rolling my eyes as Cullen pulled out the charm.
"And you two lovely ladies are?" He asked, extending his hand to each of them, and then brushing his lips over their hands.
And I could actually see it happening. The hearts being stolen and melted, never to be returned quite the same. The gooey, -Oh-My-Shit-Edward-Cullen-Just-Touched-Me look. The desperate crushes forming as each girl tried to stick out her miniscule boobs the furthest.
"I'm Brie." "I'm Irina." They said at the same time, and I was pleased to see that even though she was making a total ass out of herself, Brie was keeping her shit together the best she could.
No use, I wanted to yell.
He's got ya now!
"Well it is a pleasure to meet you," I looked at him, only to see his sexy ass smirk assessing each girl who was panting like bitches in heat.
"Okay, well, we have a lot of shit to do, so you guys should probably go back to the living room." I said a bit sourly, and a tad grossed out.
They sighed dreamily, and walked back out, seemingly forgetful of what they had come in here for.
"Cute," Edward laughed.
I sneered. "You sick fuck, Cullen. Irina's twelve and probably hasn't even gotten her period yet," I hissed, quietly, happy to hear the TV volume going louder up.
Cullen looked positively grossed out. "That's disgusting. You're so tactless."
"What the fuck ever. This isn't cotillion. Effie Trinket isn't around right now. I'll say what I damn well please in my own damn house. Can we please just get this over with? I have a party to be attending tonight."
Alice and Rose were supposed to get here at 7:30 to start getting ready and it was already 6. I needed to take a shower and shave before then.
"Ugh, don't tell me Jacob Black's party?"
I set down my book and looked up with him. "You're going?" whined.
"Of course I'm going. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I'm pretty sure the flier said no douchebags allowed." I shrugged. "Or maybe it was a no sweater wearing party. Then again, those basically go hand in hand, and either way, I'm sure you're not supposed to be there."
I just wanted to let loose tonight. It was my first Friday night off in three months and I wanted to spend it puking in the plants, dammit!
Cullen threw his hand over his stomach, pretending to clutch jollily at it while he wheezed out laughter. "Another tally for Swan! Have you ever thought about being a comedian? Lots of lesbians are in the business, so you should fit right in!"
"Oh, I see you're stealing from my bank of gay jokes! Wow, that is damn funny and utterly original!" I knee slapped myself, before picking up my book, and bringing it up to where I couldn't see Cullen's big, fat head anymore.
"Gah, Banner is the best! God bless him and his absolutely astounding ability to pair up the worst partners in the whole damned world!" Edward completely ditched the fake, comical voice we were using.
I set down my book. "Oh, good, please, whine some more. That's gonna get us an A. You are one bright cookie!"
He was seething by now. "You know what? Fuck this. I can't deal with you right now. Monday. 5:30. Here. We're gonna fucking finish this project then hopefully never see each other ever fucking again!"
"Bravo!" I applauded. "Have you ever thought of going to drama school?
He gathered his stuff while somehow, still glaring at me, slammed my door, and peeled away from my house, leaving fucking skid marks on my driveway.
I swear, one of these days, I'm going to actually fucking kill him! But not before I fuck him.
Gah! What is wrong with me?
The base was pumping; I could feel the vibrations in my chest. Seth was chatting on with Mike about shooters and other boring shit, while I watched the chandelier sway back and forth. I idly wondered if it would even fall like that one scene in What A Girl Wants.
I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room.
Damn, I looked good with a little fire in my eyes.
I was still pissed off from Cullen and mine little tiff. My midnight blue, sparkly tank top clung to my chest, while fanning out just a smidge to show off my curves, but not too much. My pale skin was glowing, and my tits looked awesome from here. My denim skirt clung to my ass in a flattering way. My hair fell loosely around my shoulders, and I was glad I had straightened it.
I surveyed the room, searching for my prey. I was horny and I was gonna get some tonight.
Looking upon the thrashing bodies in the crowd, I couldn't help but to compare this to African tribal dances. I'm sure they had things like this before they sacrificed someone or something. The sacrifice here would definitely be the freshman, Lily Idler's virginity.
She was treading dangerous water grinding her ass all over Eric Swanson like that.
All the guys out there were either too drunk or too sweaty and gross that I couldn't imagine subjecting myself to that kind of torture as they put their grimy and sweaty hands all over me, while humping my leg like they were a dog.
It was about that time that I felt two warm arms slide around my hips. "Good evening, Miss Bella."
I sighed, suppressing a smile. "Hi, James," I said flatly.
"Don't sound so excited. Why don't we get you giggly? I love when you're tipsy, Bella."
I rolled my eyes, but let him lead me to the kitchen.
James was cute enough. A little too long of hair for my taste, but as Rose and I always joked, it would be something to hold onto while he fucked us into oblivion.
James got me some booze, and we talked and talked, and I realized he was perfect. He was more sober than I was and he was not a virgin, so at least it should be semi decent.
We kissed for a few minutes, and just as I was about to suggest that we move this little shindig upstairs, James was knocked into me and there was booze sliding down my face and top.
"Fuck!" I yelled, gasping as the cold drink slid down my shirt.
I looked up to see what had happened and met Cullen's stupidly green eyes, while he was laughing like a psycho.
And his entourage behind him was thinking it was hysterical.
I could tell they were all a little wasted themselves, and normally, I would have been cool, it was an accident, no biggie. But three things were working against Cullen's favor right now.
I was planning on returning this top back to Dillard's, seeing as how it cost almost as much as a full paycheck.
It totally killed the mood between James and I, and I was fucking horny.
It was Cullen and he made me want to do things that were probably illegal to even think about. And no, not sexual things. Murderous things.
As Cullen continued to laugh like a deranged hyena, I grabbed my cup of beer, and splashed it right in his fucking face.
His laughter died immediately, and only one member of his sweater club chuckled, before immediately stopping.
"What. The. Fuck." He sputtered, wiping his hand over his face.
"Oh, were you not trying to start a beer fight?" I asked.
"What is your fucking problem, Swan?"
I hopped off the counter and walked right into his face. "You."
It was at this time, that I realized we had gathered quite a crowd, and that Cullen was visibly shaking. I bet getting told off by a girl who was well over a foot shorter than him really didn't set well.
And that made me smile.
"That wasn't cool, man," I heard James say to Cullen, before escorting me to the bathroom, so I could clean myself up a little bit.
My loathing had reached new heights.
If I didn't hate Edward Cullen before, it was official now.
Over the next two weeks, Cullen and I had been working on our project twice a week at my house. We had barely gotten any progress done, and the final project was due in less than two weeks.
That was why Cullen was coming over on a Saturday morning, bright and early, and we were going to be at this until we were done.
After the party, we had kept all of our topics about the project, or to insults about each other, but today…there was something heavy about today.
We started in the kitchen, and were working very slow paced. Brie had had a slumber party the night before with about five girls, so I had barely gotten any sleep, the house was a mess, and it was my responsibility because mom and dad were at a "work" retreat the whole weekend.
Sometimes it felt like I was the parent around here.
Around 10:30, I heard a stampede of girls descending the stairs, and I groaned.
"Noooo…." My head hit the table just as the six of them; all screeching came in the kitchen.
Edward completely ignored them and was just staring out the window, looking as exhausted as I felt.
Brie and her noisy friends eventually left the kitchen, but only for the living room, where the nosily blasted the music channel and started dancing like they were all coked up.
"Brie! TURN IT THE FUCK DOWN!" I bellowed, getting ready to lose it.
"NO!" She screamed back.
"That's it! Cullen, grab your stuff. We're going to my room."
My room was furthest from the living room, and if we shut the door, and slid a towel under the door, it should be at least workable.
"Where are we going?" He asked, yawning.
"To my fucking bedroom."
He seemed hesitant, but followed me.
Once we were away from the group of the world's most annoying tweens, I threw my stuff on the bed, grabbed a towel off the bathroom door, shut my door, locked it, and stuffed a towel under it.
I turned to find Cullen swing around in my desk chair.
I smirked to myself when I realized that ancient piece of shit would probably collapse any second. It was missing about three screws, and couldn't handle anything weighing over 120 pounds.
"Sweet room, Swan," he smirked at my poster of The Hunger Games on the back of my door.
"Sweet face, Cullen."
He scoffed. "Sweet comeback, Swan."
"Oh hey," I said, feigning surprise, "There's my fucking shirt that you ruined." I nodded over on my closet door to the ruined tank top hanging on it.
"Oh hey, if you look out your window, you'll see my fucking car that you ruined."
"Hey asshat, that is not my pro-"
And at the exact moment, the chair collapsed, sending Edward faceplanting it to the floor, with his limbs and my chair sprawled everywhere.
I was in hysterics. Clutching my stomach. Tears running down my face.
That was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. The look of sheer terror on his face is what I would be sure to remember during the hardest parts of life, whenever I was feeling down, or if I ever just needed to laugh my fucking face off.
I wheezed, and cried, and laughed, and tried to help him up.
He was not laughing. Fire was in his eyes.
"Oh Cullen," I finally got out after ten minutes of solid laughing, "Don't be such a pussy."
He was up in my face in less than a second. "Don't you ever laugh at me again!" He was gripping my arms almost to the point of pain and all I could see were his lickable lips.
"Or what?" I asked in a low voice that sounded nothing like mine.
Before I could even detect the motion, Cullen had me pressed against my door, and was kissing me roughly, holding me against my will.
I moaned into the rough kiss when his tongue pried my lips open, pushing his tongue into my mouth and stroking mine with his.
It was barbaric. It was forceful. It hurt.
It was hot as hell.
I wedged my arms out from under his and threw them around his neck, pouring myself 110% into that kiss. Hell to the no, I was not missing the only opportunity I might ever get.
We made out until we were gasping for breath, and his lips didn't leave my skin. "I hate you so fucking much!" he panted as he scraped his teeth from my ear lobe to my collarbone.
I pulled his hair extra hard to get it across that the feeling was mutual.
He hoisted my legs up, around his waist, and pushed his heavy hips into mine, pinning me against the door further. I could feel him right where I needed him.
The handle was digging into my thigh, so I slid down his front, and pushed him until he fell on his back on my bed.
"You are the most disgusting person I know!" I whispered as I kissed up his neck and chin, devouring his lips again.
"You're a pathetic excuse for a human being," He grunted, rolling us until half my body was off the bed and he was burying his face in the V of my shirt, sucking and licking at my cleavage.
I was letting out shrieks and breathy, raspy pants that I'd never made before, while clawing at his head, feeling the pressure eating me alive, starting from my vag, up.
I arched against him when I could feel him hard and pulsating against my leg. I heard a rip before I felt his lips on bare skin.
I strained to lift my head that falling off the bed, and saw that he had ripped my V-neck in two, and was sucking at my chest more freely.
"You asshole!" I yelled, pushing him off me and moving to straddle him. I ripped his sweater open, and took joy when I saw the buttons fly all over my floor. He bit his lip and roughly kneaded my boobs, to the point where I was whimpering out strangled cries of pain and ecstasy.
He quickly undid my pants, and I stood up quickly, dropping them to the floor, before moving to his belt buckle. Once we were both in our underwear, he grabbed me, pulling me on top of him, before grabbing the flesh of my ass and yanking at it, making me yelp.
While one hand slapped my ass, he moved me to where the tent in his boxers was lined up with my pussy, and slid one finger down the crack of my ass all the way to my clit. I couldn't hold back the whorish sounding moan that was elicited from me.
"That's right," he grunted, bucking his hips. "Moan for daddy."
I gasped, embarrassed that that only made me wetter. To hide that fact, I slapped him across the face.
He growled. And the sound went straight to my clit.
He slapped my ass hard, before ripping my bra in two, then my panties. "Don't you ever fucking slap me again!" He muttered right into my ear, just before his hand landed on my ass with a crack.
All the other slaps had been enjoyable almost but that one…that one brought tears to my eyes.
He moved me to where I was under him, completely bare, before securing my hands above my head and assessing my naked body.
"Mmm…I must say, Swan…you've gotten fucking sexy. But I still hate you."
He smirked. "I know, Swan. You'll get a taste soon. Now, don't fucking move your hands. Hold on to the board."
I did as instructed, and moved my hands behind me.
He slid off his boxers, and my hips thrust up on their own accord after seeing what Cullen had been hiding under there.
I mean…I'd heard rumors…but fuck. This was a gift. He was very large. And thick.
"See something you like?" He asked arrogantly, running his hand up and down his beautiful cock.
"No. I hate you." I whimpered.
We both knew it was a lie.
I would have done anything to get that dick inside me.
He leaned in and started kissing down my body, murmuring, "Keep those hands up there, baby."
By the time he reached my left nipple, I was gasping for breath, bucking wildly every time his throbbing length came in contact with my skin.
"You're being really fucking loud, and usually, I would revel in those sounds, but I really fucking hate your mouth when words are coming out of it, so shut up before I gag you!"
I wanted to slap him again, but I knew that would mean he would stop his delicious descent down toward the part of me that needed him most.
When he reached my pubic bone, a breathy sigh escaped me.
"What did I fucking say?" His head popped up.
I bit my lip, and saw his eyes flash to it while he groaned. He slapped my pussy, causing me to yelp. He grabbed my ripped and ruined panties from beside him and shoved them in my mouth. I moved to tear them out, but he was already wrapping the arms of his sweater around my hands, tying me to the bed.
Why the hell was I enjoying this so much?
He went back to my pussy, taking a leisurely long lick right up the center, while moving both of my legs over his shoulder.
"Do you realize how long I've wanted to taste your pussy? And how much it drives me crazy? I fucking hate you yet I am constantly thinking about taking you every single fucking way, humanly possible.
You drive me crazy!"
I was bucking my hips against his mouth, and he went back, going for it all. One hand slid up my side, finding purchase on my tit that was heaving. Another moved to make my hips stay down on the bed. And his tongue. His tongue was doing downright illegal things to my poor, sensitive, in-desperate-need-to-cum pussy.
I was bucking and moaning and clawing at my restraints, begging to come.
I was right on the edge, teetering, needing him to do something, anything to make me fall over.
It was when he took his clit into his perfect, round, pink lips, and hummed, while looking up at me, that I lost it, and shook, screaming into my shredded panties just how much I loved Edward Cullen's tongue.
During my orgasm, that seemed to last a lifetime, I was in pure ecstasy. It was official. Facebook pages shall be made to it. Shrines shall be built in honor of it. Weekly gatherings shall be held to support it.
Edward Cullen had the best fucking tongue in the entire fucking world. Even after my first orgasm subsided, he went down to my entrance, only to lick me until all of my cum was going down his throat. Then he went right back to mercilessly flicking his tongue against my ultra-sensitive clit.
I screamed. I bucked. I cried. My thighs clamped around his head.
If I thought the first orgasm was intense, this one was on an all-new playing field.
Once I squeaked at how it was too sensitive, he finally, and regrettably, removed his tongue from me, and maneuvered his way out of my leg's clutches on his head.
He pulled the panties out of my mouth and kissed me square on the lips.
Usually, I would have been grossed out that his tongue had just been in me, but for some reason, it just made me even more hot and bothered than I already was.
As he kissed me domineeringly, he untied my hands, and moved me to where I was on my knees on the floor, and he was sitting on the bed.
"I assume you've given head before, Swan?" He asked, stroking his cock that was inches from my face.
"Twice," I admitted shyly.
He rolled his eyes. "Don't act so damn timid. Now suck it, before I fuck your mouth."
I was sickened with how turned on I was, and what a little bitch he was making of me. Without even second-guessing it, I lowered my mouth to where I was sucking on the head.
I hummed, and his hips bucked, sending him to hit the back of my throat. I gagged. "Relax, Swan," he said, sliding me off his dick by grabbing my hair, and then pushing me back down.
Soon, he'd set a rhythm, and I was gagging less. His hands were tight in my hair, moving me like I was sex doll.
He was so loud, and groaning, and I very briefly thought of Brie and her friends, but I could still hear the music in the distance, so I didn't worry for long.
"Ahhh, Bella! Faster!"
He was slamming my head, and pumping his hips, and I was bracing myself on his thighs, afraid he would impale my face and go out the back of my throat. That's how hard he was.
Then he did something that made me want to slap the shit out of him as I rode him all the way to California.
He slammed my head down, forcing me to swallow around him. My nose was pressed to his neatly groomed pubic bone, and I gagged and screamed around him, desperately needing air.
The sick fuck was only turned on further and kept me there, instructing me to swallow, and telling me how good I felt choking on his thick cock.
Possibly the sickest thing about it is how close I came to coming, when he slid a hand around my throat, and slightly squeezed, groaning at how he could feel his cock in there.
Finally he released me, and I sputtered backwards, falling on my ass, gasping for air, water running out of my eyes.
"So clumsy," he sighed, climbing off the bed and onto to the floor to straddle me.
He grabbed a condom out of his jean pockets, slid it on, and filled me before I had even caught my breath.
I screamed out again as he slammed into me, giving me no time to adjust. Moments later, he had a steady pace of fucking me that had me clawing desperately at his back, as I got rug burn from sliding along the carpet.
When he hooked one leg around his waist and the other under his arm, I screamed, and came, biting into his shoulder.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, pulling out of me, and depositing me on the bed.
He flipped me onto my knees and forearms, slamming into my from behind, making me cry out from the pain and pure pleasure.
"That's right, baby! Fucking take my cock! Take it!" He leaned over me, pounding his hips in a furious rhythm, before moving a hand to my throat again, applying enough pressure to make me squirm but not enough for it to be uncomfortable.
His chants were low in my ear, telling me to take his cock, and to milk him dry, and more dirty, nasty comments that should never be uttered outside of sex.
He moved his other hand to my clit, tweaking and pulling it, and before I even thought possible, I was coming, again, and pushing back against him, begging for it to be harder.
He squeezed my throat harder, stilled my hips, and slammed into me the hardest I'd ever had four more times, stilled, spilled into me, and then collapsed on top of me.
After a minute he moved from on top of me and lay beside me. Shoulder to shoulder, we panted and tried to catch our breath.
After a few minutes, I swallowed and turned to face him. "I still fucking hate you."
"But you love fucking me."
Thanks for reading! I hoped you all enjoyed it.
I might make this into a story, depending on feedback.