In a quest for vengeance against her ex-boyfriend Jacob, Bella finds the perfect way to hit him hard and where it hurts. Who ever said revenge was a dish best served cold never caught a glimpse of Edward Cullen.

The theme song in my head is Adele's 'Rolling In The Deep', remixed with Amy Winehouse's 'Back To Black'. The ultimate theme to vengeance. I am flawless down to the last detail, from my nails to my hair to my makeup, and I'm dressed to impress. More than impress, if I'm going to be honest.

Tonight I'm on the prowl.

I take one last look in the mirror and smirk, quirking an eyebrow at my reflection in the full length mirror behind my bedroom door. My phone beeps, bringing my final inspection to a quick end, and I pick up my precious iPhone.

Minx 10:30pm is all the text message says. I wonder if my plan will go accordingly or if it will all fall to shit. I check the time – 9:54 PM. My cab should be waiting outside.

Navigating my way slowly down the stairs so I don't trip and break my face, I try to stealthily make my way out the door. The clattering of a whisk being put down tells me I wasn't stealthy enough.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

"Out, Angie," I tell my best friend-slash-roommate. I try, unsuccessfully, to tug down the hem of my dress but it's no use, she's seen me in all my vengeful glory.

"Again, Bella?" she sighs, wiping her flour speckled face with a dishcloth. "Don't you think Jacob's suffered enough?"

I snort. "Not nearly enough."

She sighs again, a sure sign that she at least isn't going to fight me on this tonight. Outside the cabbie honks his horn. "Where?"

"Minx Nightclub, over on 49th, in the entertainment district. Look, I have to go. But my phone will be on all night, and I'll be coming home for sure."

She gives me an incredulous look and I want to be offended but I don't have enough time. "You'll be home for sure?"

"Trust me, Ange, tonight will be… Different."

"Different indeed," I whisper to myself as I throw the overly talkative cabbie a couple of twenties for his troubles and survey the crowd lined up on the sidewalk outside of the club. These aren't your typical club goers and, by the way the bouncers are turning away people at the door, this isn't your typical club either.

In my head I pull on my big girl panties and my feet swagger me over to the nearest bouncer. I'm hot, I'm wanted, I'm sex on five inch Christian Louboutins. I'm oozing confidence in every step but a tiny, miniscule part of me is afraid that my night will go to shit if I am denied entrance.

Jacob got in, I remind myself. This club can't have too high standards if that they allowed that shitbag on their premises.

I pull my ID out from my left bra cup, smirking at how obviously the black-clad bouncer is eyeing my form. I hand it to him and he just holds it in his hands, not even bothering to verify my identity. I can hear people in line complaining about how I just cut in front of all of them but I ignore the inane chatter, focusing all my attention on the muscled man in front of me. With one last head-to-toe, he hands me back my driver's license and unhooks the red velvet rope to let me inside.

"Thanks, hon," I whisper into his ear as I step past, making sure to drag one well manicured finger across his chest. Gotta leave them with a lasting impression after all.

I'm ushered inside and I'm met by a hostess who greets me and tries to sell me on the extra amenities the club has to offer. I'm polite enough to her but I'm not interested in what the club has to offer, but who.

"And can I get you anything to drink to get started?" she asks me. Hmm, I'm starting to like this place.

"A triple of Patron, straight."

"Sure thing. Lime with that?"

I nod and in barely three blinks I have a glass in my hand and I am squeezing my lime wedge into it. I take a sip and the delicious burn that runs through me only sharpens my resolve for tonight.

The hostess leads me to the main area of the club and opens the glass door, a blast of DJ-ed music enticing me in. Inside is your typical club from what I can see. Two bars at each end of the room, VIP couches and booths along the longest wall, dance floor everywhere else. There are people dancing in groups, couples grinding against each other, strangers grabbing at one another and leaning up against the strategically placed pillars around the room. There is a set of stairs at the far end and I assume that it leads to more VIP areas and the rooftop smoking lounge.

I hand the hostess a twenty for her troubles and I head inside, looking for one of two familiar faces as I sip my tequila. I discreetly check my phone – it's 10:24 PM. Almost show time. Need to find them…

I follow the pattern the strobe lights make and I eventually see a tall head of shaggy blonde towering above the fray. Thank God for Jasper and his freakish height. He's standing just in front of a booth, on the dance floor side of the velvet rope, with some sort of brunette practically glued to his crotch, writhing around like she's being electrocuted. Does she seriously think she's being sexy?

Shaking my head, I finish my drink and slink my way over to where he is, keeping within large groups of people so I remain unseen by the others he is with. When I get close enough, I grab the nearest warm, male body and begin to lightly grind, using his body as my shield while I tap Jasper against his belt – tap, tap… tap, tap, tap… tap, tap.

His head instantly shoots up and when a colored strobe shines on him I can see the smile on his face. He doesn't look for me – he knows better – but he knows that I am here and that tonight's fun is just about to begin. I move away, leaving the paws of my atrociously handsy 'dance partner' behind, ready to start off tonight's… festivities.

"Come on back, baby," my decoy whines, trying to grab at me before I go too far but I slink past his clutches.

I dance around, again flitting to an fro, slowly moving away from the booth I now see Jacob occupying, but not far enough that I lose sight of it. Jasper stealthily dances his way to me and I feel his large hands circle my waist. He hides me from his friends' stares but doesn't pull me close because, ew, let's face it, you don't bump and grind with your half-brother.

"New guy," he says in my ear. Gross, I can smell the Jack on his breath. "Well, sort of. The redhead in the green shirt."

"That means shit to me right now," I remind him. "In this light that could be any asshole out here."

"Right." He pauses and I imagine his ridiculous looking 'thinking face' that he inherited from Mom. "Oh, he's heading over to the bar now. The one in the middle."

I crane my neck in the direction he is indicating and I see three sets of broad shoulders fighting their way though the crowd. The one in the middle is the tallest, he looks to almost match Jasper in height. His hair is a wild mess of waves and cowlicks, just long enough to grab while his face is busy doing other things.


"Who is he?"

"Jake's best friend from high school back in Chicago."

I wrack my brain for any information Jake could've relayed to me over the years about this so-called best friend. "Edmund, right?"

"Edward," Jasper corrects. "Just graduated Dartmouth with a degree in architectural engineering."

"Hmm… Okay."

"Happy hunting, sis," Jas says, giving me playful shove towards the bar before sliding away, into the arms of another spastic female.

I weave my way to the bar, settling across the trio I am preying upon. On one side is Brady, Jake's little bitch. Seriously, I'm pretty sure Brady would wipe Jacob's ass for him if he even asked. On the other is one of the frat brothers, Emmett. Pretty cool guy, not particularly close to my ex. Now, do I wait for Brady to go away or do I go balls to the wall? Studying the way Brady is fawning all over this Edward guy…

Balls to the wall it is.

The DJ remixes into a new song, the familiar tagline, 'Grab somebody sexy, tell 'em hey,' repeating as he runs the beat. This couldn't have been more perfect if I tried. I saunter over and glide right up to this Edward character, blocking Brady's sycophantic advances while I'm at it, and turn to the bartender.

"Double of Patron Silver with lime," I shout at her and she nods. I can hear Brady stu-stu-stuttering behind me and I can't help the pleased smile that graces my face.

"Hey, Em," I call to the giant. He grins and waves; I have a feeling he knows this game that I play and he gets a kick out of sitting back and watching the chaos I wreak. I finally turn to the new guy and… WowHello, sexy. You're just making tonight even better for me. "Hi, I'm Bella."

He looks me up and down twice then leans in real close, so close that I can smell the sweat and cigarettes and boy coming off of him. As he speaks, I feel his lips graze my earlobe. "Hey, there, Bella."

Mmmm, mmm, good…

The bartender comes up with my drink and just as I'm about reach for the bills in my bra, Green-Eyed-and-Sexy grins and flashes his neon-purple wristband instead.

"It's on me," he says in my ear and I try not to melt like butter because his voice is just so umpf. "Come, dance with me."

I can only nod before he drags me to the dance floor, his hands encircling my waist when we are deep in the center of the writhing mass of bodies. I feel him pull me tight against him so I throw my free arm back and wrap it around his shoulder while his hands move from my waist to my hips to my thighs and back again. Though the circuit his fingers run are separated from my skin by the practically non-existent layer of pleated silk I wear, I can still feel him. It's more than his touch, it's this electricity that courses through me in every place that his fingers brush.

Or maybe I've just had too much tequila.

Whatever it is, I can't get blinded by it. I'm on a mission tonight and I plan on following through. I spy a shooter girl walking through the crowd and pawn my mostly full drink on her empty tray just in case.

"Lemme hear you say throwback!" the DJ calls and a heavy reggae beat plays. It's 'Tempted To Touch'; I can't remember who it's by but I use the song to my full advantage, spinning in Edward's deliciously electric grip and looking up at him as I straddle one of his thighs.

"God, you're so hot," he says in my ear, biting gently on the lobe as he speaks while pulling me even closer to him. I can feel the heat and hardness of his erection and I more than kind of want to jump his bones right here in the middle of the dance floor. I have to constantly remind myself that I have an agenda tonight; I could easily – too easily – get wrapped up in this guy if I'm not careful and I know it.

As subtly as I can, I direct us so that the crowd pushes us towards where Jacob is sitting. By now Brady should have gone crying wolf and alerted him to the fact that I am here, so once he sees me bumping and grinding with his childhood best friend he should go absolutely ballistic.

Edward is definitely not the first I've done this with. In fact, he is the latest in the long line of men and women I have used to get revenge on my ex. It sounds malicious, I know, but after he cheated on me with two thirds of Seattle, I think I'm allowed a little petty revenge.

I first found out about Jacob when Angela's brother caught him making out with one of his many girlfriends outside a movie theatre the week before my birthday. As soon as I confronted him, all sorts of women suddenly showed up on my radar. I was hurt; who wouldn't be? I had been made a fool of in front of so many people. But I'm not the type of woman who lives that kind of shit down.

It started when I accidentally walked into the same bar Jacob was in one night. He had some slut on his lap and another one on his arm and was surrounded by his idiot frat brothers, all of whom were impressed with his apparent prowess with the ladies. I shut that shit down so fast, marching up to him with a drink in my hand and dumping it on his head, making up some shit about how he left me high and dry with a toddler and another kid on the way. Let's just say those girls jumped off his jock so damn quick I'm surprised they weren't saying meep meep as the clouds of dust followed.

That was empowering, knowing I still had some sort of power over the sad asshole. He yelled and screamed at me that night at the bar, calling me a psycho ex who wasn't over him but instead of feeling embarrassed by his ranting and raving, I felt exhilarated. It was exciting, being able to one up him as he tried to dick around with the lives and hearts of other girls.

So it began: I'd happen to show up at all of Jacob's haunts, scaring off the girls he was flirting with, telling them whatever different horror stories (like herpes, children, and/or gender reassignment) that I could think of. But slowly his hangouts changed and I wasn't running into him as often. That's when my half-brother, Jasper, made my life all the easier.

Jasper Dwyer-Whitlock is my half-brother, exactly eighteen months to the day younger than me. My mother left my dad when I was just three months old and took me with her, where she met, married, and procreated with my step-dad, Phil Whitlock. Jasper and I look almost nothing alike: where he is tall like his father, I am rather petite; he shares his blonde-and-tan-and-blue eyes with his dad as well, while I am pale and dark featured like my dad Charlie. Pretty much the only things either of us got from our mother, Renee, was our deep, left-sided dimple and the first half of our last names.

Jasper was attending Texas A&M when he decided to move closer to me and transferred out to the University of Washington. He was a member of Pi Kappa Phi and got in touch with the local frat chapter when he arrived, not knowing that it was the same fraternity Jacob was part of. But when he found out, I managed to convince him not to beat the ever loving shit out of the scumbag. And, because both of us don't usually use the Dwyer half of our last names, he became my perfect accomplice. He'd clue me into where Jacob would be and who he'd be with and the sad ass would be none the wise until I showed up to ruin his night.

The song pounding through the bass changes – some Kanye West shit with an equally shitty back beat – and many of the clubgoers take this as their cue to flood the bars so I'm left with Edward and only a handful of others on the floor. I can see Jacob slamming back shots of cheap, shitty vodka in their booth so I know I'm in perfect position. If this Edward is as much of a toolbag as my ex is – and it would be a shame if he was because he is just too damn pretty – he'll want to 'subtly' show me off to the rest of his group.

When I feel Edward's hand on my hips shift me a couple steps to the left, I know I'm not disappointed.

"I want to feel you grind that sexy ass against me," he rasps in my ear as he turns me around. He might as well have put up a neon sign over my head saying, 'Hey, guys, look as the fucking hottie straddling my jock!'

But I play along regardless, closing my eyes and throwing back my head as I feel the hard length of his cock rhythmically grinding into my backside. I'm only fifty percent acting at this point because this boy feels so fucking good right now that I might just have to change my plans for the night.

My pleasure, though, reaches its peak when I hear Jacob roar with anger thirty seconds later.


I allow a small smirk to grace my lips but keep my eyes closed and my expression innocent as I continue dancing with Edward. I chance a look up into my dance partner's eyes and I revel in the confusion I see there.

The next few minutes are a blur and I try my best to keep my eyes on the action. A whole host of Pi Kap frat brothers have expressions on their faces ranging from surprise to amusement to anger and hostility; Brady is standing behind a couch, his fingertips in his mouth – the pussy; and Jackass Jake is flying through the air, lunging for me over the velvet rope that separates VIP from the regular crowd. I feel Edward's grip on my waist tighten as he pulls me harder against him, presumably to protect me from his suddenly rabid beast of a best friend and the sound that comes out of my mouth is a cross between a moan and a gasp of surprise. Jacob is steps away from us now, his arms outstretched and spittle flying from his mouth as he continues his tirade over the thumping beat of Drake and Nicki Minaj. I feel his fingertips graze the strap of my dress on my shoulder before he's suddenly gone and the loud scratch of a record halts absolutely everything in the club.

"That fucking bitch - Get her! Get the fuck off - No, fuck, shit, she's the one - "

Edward is suddenly shielding me with his body and yelling down at Jacob and I can't help but chuckle a little at the sight before me. There are three huge security guards wrestling Jacob on the floor: one on his back, one straddling his legs, the third with his boot keeping his head parallel to the floor. A crowd has gathered around us and I see Jasper out of the corner of my eye shoot me a thumbs up. He must've been the one to call security.

Have I mentioned that I love my brother?

Jacob is still sputtering at the top of his lungs as he's hauled to his feet and dragged quite forcefully out of the club. Brady is behind him, biting his nails to the quick as his head volleys between following his beloved Jacob or staying to make sense of some of the mess. But it's Jacob's last, shouted words that make me want to claw his eyes out.

"Ed! Ed, that's her, the stupid bitch! Don't fucking go near that stupid ass cunt!"

Instantly I feel Edward stiffen behind me – and not in the good way. But whatever action may be coming next is cut off by one of the club's staff, the same hostess that greeted me at the door.

"Miss, are you okay?" She takes me gently by the arm and leads me over to the bar, tugging my though a hidden door in the wall beside the high gloss counter. The DJ is spouting some nonsensical-ness over the speakers and the music begins again, the chatter of clubgoers rising to a roar as they get back to their evening.

I nod my head and look longingly out to the club as I walk down a short hallway to a well kept office.

"I apologize so much," the hostess says, handing me a business card and going through the usual liability spiel of 'please don't blame us, we'll do anything.'

"It's fine," I tell her, cutting her off mid-tirade. "I'd just like to continue on with my night."

She nods and leads me back out to the hall, grabbing the bartender's attention as she passes. Seconds later a drink is in my grip – a double of tequila with a slice of lime, just the way I like it – and I'm warily searching the crowd for any familiar faces.

Thankfully it looks like most of the Pi Kaps have cleared out (or have been cleared out) so I finish my drink in peace before ducking out of the club and into the crisp night air.

The honking of taxi horns and the sight of uniformed police officers keeping the peace is comforting. It's routine and it's sane, the same it's always been and the same it will always be. I root through my clutch and tug a cigarette out of my case, lighting it before sauntering down the street towards the nearest intersection so I can grab a cab. Having grown up in the city, the nightlife doesn't bother me and I strut past parking lots and alleys easily. I can see bright lights two blocks away when a hand shoots out and grabs me by the upper arm, startling me enough that I drop my cigarette with a yelp.

"Were you just using me?"

I don't register the words, though, because my fist is flying through the air and there is a heavy grunt following the sound of skin against skin.

"SHIT! What the fuck, bitch?!"

I gape incredulously at the asshole who now has his hands up, holding his face. Seriously, he grabbed me and he's calling me the bitch? I shake my head. Though hunched over, my attacker is still taller than me so I step back, cradling my hand.

Make no mistake – jaws are hard.

"Fuck, shit, that hurt!"

"You're telling me," I mumble, looking up as I try to discern the face of my 'attacker'. "Edward?"

Pale gray-green eyes glare back at me then Edward – because it is indeed him – straightens up and spits a mouthful of blood to the ground. I'm not sorry and I cross my arms over my chest to convey that fact.

"What the fuck was that for?"

My eyebrow raises so high that I'm afraid it'll fall off my face. He at least has enough shame in him to look embarrassed.

"Okay, okay."

"So do you go around accosting women in alleyways all the time then?"

"Look, Bella," he sneers and I hate that, even with his lip curled up unbecomingly like that, he still looks oh, so fuckable. Maybe more so. "Or should I say, Izzy."

I push back the shudder of revulsion when I hear Jacob's old nickname for me.

"Ha! So it is you!" An accusing finger is flung my way and I actually have to step back lest I be poked in the eye. "Jake's been telling me all about you."

I can feel the tequila coursing through my system and it gives me courage and a pair of brass balls that, before I'd started this revenge scheme, I wouldn't have believed I could have ever possessed.

"And just what has your precious Jakey-pooh been telling you, huh, Edward? Did he tell you all about how he cheated on me with almost every single girl who would put out? Did he tell you how I had to find out through my best friend's brother that he was out on our two-year anniversary, making out with some random girl whose name he probably doesn't even remember? Did he tell you just how scared and fucking embarrassed I was, having to get fucking tested at the same clinic where he had fucked not only all the nurses but also the doctor whose hand was shoved up my twat? Did your precious Jake ever tell you any of that, Edward?"

The stunned look on Edward's face held not only his jaw, but apparently the rest of him immobile after my little rant. Instead of feeling victorious, however, I just feel… Empty.

"I guess he didn't," I say, feeling my body physically sag. I'm suddenly so, so tired. "I guess he didn't."

I turn from him then, marching my way back out to the main intersection, intent on fulfilling my quest for finding a taxi. I make it to the corner where the street lights are shining down relentlessly and I began to raise my hand.

But another hand comes down on mine and stops me.

"Bella, I…"

I turn and look up, seeing a haggard looking Edward. He isn't as attractive as he had been half an hour before – nothing to do with his looks, but more to do with the heavy aura surrounding him.

"Look, I did what I came to do," I tell him, pushing his hand off of mine and turning away. "I'm sorry you had to get caught in the crossfire."

A cab pulls up in front of me and I open the door, sliding inside. I wish I had been able to finish my cigarette before Edward had jumped me in the alley.

"Where to, lady?"

"The Danville Hotel," I hear Edward say as the door slams shut behind him.

"Edward." It's a warning. "You know that punch I gave you in the alley? There's more where that came from."

"Look, just talk to me, please, Bella," he pleads, one hand tugging at his already dishevelled hair.

"Lady, this guy givin' you troubles?"

I tap on the plexiglass divider. "No, it's okay," I sigh. "The Danville, then."

The cab ride is tense and awkward and silent, not that I figured it would be all kittens and rainbows and unicorn farts. We're each pressed up against the passenger doors, fighting to put miles between us on the tiny bench seat. The ten minute ride is taking forever but eventually we turn into the curved driveway of the Danville Metropolitan Hotel. I reach into my bra but Edward has already paid the man and is tugging me out of the cab. I trip and stumble, muttering under my breath before I can't stand his rush-rush-rushing anymore and come to a dead stop in the middle of the lobby.

"What the fu-?"

"Knock it the fuck off," I spit, straightening myself out. I run a hand down my skirt then over my hair and a finger under each eye to catch any smudges. I spy the hotel bar; it's open and looks empty, so I stomp my way over there.

Plopping down into a tall, plush barstool I wink at the bartender then order a tequila sunrise when he slides over. Edward sits on the stool to my left and orders himself a beer. I don't look over at him, instead deciding to play with the pretzel bits in the bowl in front of me.

"So?" Edward says, tearing a napkin to pieces while we wait for our drinks.

"So what?" I shoot back.

"So you want to explain what the fuck you were doing tonight?" He sounds angry and he has every right to be, but I'm not in the mood – I just want to go home, take a shower, and sleep.

"I was getting back at my ex," I tell him simply. I smile at the bartender when he drops off our drinks then continue. "Look, I'm sorry that you got caught in the middle of this."

"And what exactly is 'this?'"

"I'm just giving Jacob a taste of his own medicine." I shrug and sip my cocktail.

"A taste of…?"

"Look, he obviously didn't tell you that he was cheating on me with half of Seattle. But, believe me, he was. I'm just making sure he knows that he fucked with the wrong woman."

We sit in silence, sipping our drinks at the bar. It's awkward and uncomfortable and I begin to think of all the other things I'd rather be doing. Finally, finally, Edward decides to say something, almost startling me off my barstool.

"Come with me."

I stare at him as he stands, waving down the bartender.

"Charge it to my room," he says, pointing at our drinks before taking my hand. "Bella?"

"Why should I go with you?" I ask. "For all I know you could tie me to your bed and leave me there until you can get—"

"I don't know how much Jake told you about me –"

"Not much at all."

"Well, just know that I don't think as highly of him as you think I do."

I look at him, really study his face and his eyes, and I find nothing there that leads me to doubt. I think I must be insane as I stand and take his outstretched hand.

We walk swiftly through the lobby and to the bank of elevators on the other side. I don't know what we're going to do when we get to his room (which is where I assume we are going), but I make sure to have my cellphone unlocked in my skirt pocket so I can hit Angela on my speed dial the instant that I need it.

My brain is kind of slow due to the drinks I've had tonight but that doesn't stop me from imagining all the possibilities. The best scenario would be sex: hot, dirty, mind blowing, toe curling sex. As I follow Edward's broad shoulders into the lift car, I can't stop myself from mentally undressing him. I can't even begin to think of any other scenario, in my mind there is only skin – slick, sweaty, possibly tattooed skin.

The ding that sounds as the heavy, metal doors slide shut startles me out of my fantasies but the predatory look in Edward's eye amps the heat right back up. The second the elevator car starts moving, his hands shoot out and propel me towards him, hurtling me into his chest roughly.

"What did he do to you?" I ask in a whisper, craning my neck towards him as my mind replays the last words he said. His grey-green eyes have darkened and I can sense the tempest lying in wait behind those long, dark lashes. "I thought he was your best friend."

I don't think as highly of him as you think I do.

"Does it matter?" he asks before his lips crash into mine. It's hot and rough and predatory and I feel instead of hear the moan that escapes me. He takes that as a opportunity and I feel his tongue, hot and slick, slide brutally against my own. I'm breathless seconds later but I refuse to back down, situating my hands into his hair as I tug his locks in a violent bid for power.

Tearing his face away from mine, Edward pauses to look me in the eye. I don't hesitate to meet his stare and he must find whatever he was looking for because in an instant I am airborne – my feet are no longer supporting my own weight but I find myself eye level with the bronze haired devil himself.

"He's a fucking idiot." Edward says this so quietly that I'm pretty sure I've just imagined it. But before I can process the words or what they mean, my back hits a wall and his lips are devouring me again.

I realize now that he has me up against the elevator wall and I can feel all of him against me, hitting at just the right spot. I moan like a hooker but I can't stop it because he shifts every few seconds, sending jolts of fire through my wanton and greedy body. He tears his lips away from me and they travel an aggressive path down my neck until he's nipping at my breasts over the filmy silk of my dress.

Ding! "Twenty-seventh floor."

"Fuck," he pants into my skin, moving his legs and letting me slide down the front of his body. I barely manage to resituate the hem of my dress as the elevator doors open for us.

"Come on." Edward grabs my hand and guides me out of the lift, holding me steady as I wobble on unsteady feet behind him.

We rush down the hallway, stopping every few feet to accost one another with hands and lips and tongues. When we do finally make it to the end of the hall, Edward presses me up against the door, his leg firmly situated between my thighs.

"I want to fuck you," he rasps in my ear, his teeth nipping sharply at the row of pearl studs lining the shell and his fingers roughly plucking at my very hard, very obvious nipples. "I want to fuck you against the window so all of fucking Seattle knows."

Though I know the words should rightly set off warning bells in my head, the only sound coming out of me is a moan of acquiesce as my head tilts back. Even the dull thud of my head hitting the wood doesn't bring me to my senses.

In a matter of seconds Edward has the door open and we are traversing the space between the door and whatever available surface he wants to have his way with me. When my back his a wall of cold, I know that he's about to make good on his promise.

My already short dress is pushed further up my waist and I feel Edward's long fingers stroking my thighs, higher and higher until they meet the lace of my thong. I feel him twisting the flimsy fabric, driving me crazy as he manipulates the material to rub coarsely against my clit. His teeth are sharp against the sensitive skin of my neck and collar, but the stinging pains only serve to heighten my pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I plead, one hand slapping the glass behind me as the other winds in his hair, trying to push him down to his knees so I can get some real satisfaction.

He obliges me and I catch the ghost of a smirk as he lowers himself before me. Part of me wants to punch him again for being such an arrogant prick, the other part of me just wants ride him like a show pony at the Olympics. But all coherent thoughts cease to exist when I feel his tongue lap a hot, wet trail over the flimsy line of my thong. His tongue, a magic appendage if I've ever felt one, punctuates its presence hard against my clit, making me pull his hair and buck my hips against him.

"Fuck," I moan, unable to articulate anything else.

"That's good," he says, so close to my clit that I can feel the vibrations of his voice against me. "That's good but you can do better."

I'm confused by his words but he pulls down my panties and then his teeth nip gently at my lower lips, causing me to buck forward again.

"I want to hear you, Bella," he clarifies, his nose nudging my clit with too little pressure. He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks hard once, twice.

"Oh, fucking God!" I shout, my head bouncing against the window behind me. My overheated skin sticks uncomfortably against the cool glass, the sharp contrast of sensations just adding to my pleasure.

"Better," Edward coaxes from between my knees. I feel him wrap one hand behind my left thigh as the other plunges straight into my pussy. "But I want to hear you say my name. I don't want either of us to have any doubt who makes you feel like this."

On the last word, Edward pumps his fingers into me hard, bringing his mouth back to lave attention against my clit. He works magic against my body and, in what feels like both seconds and hours, I am falling apart with screams that should rightly shatter the glass behind me.

"I'm not done with you yet," I hear whispered in my ear as I float weightlessly through the room. I feel softness at my back and after a few seconds I see Edward hovering over me, the smirk painted on his face in sharp relief due to the moonlight streaming in through the devil windows on the other side of the room.

I watch him strip above me, my brain slowing time down so that every single one of his movements plays in slow-mo. Each button through its hole, the way he peels the light fabric off his shoulders, the slow glide of his white t-shirt as he oh, so slowly pulls it up, revealing inches of hard muscle covered in…

Oh, fuck me. Tattoos.

Bands of black ink are woven across Edward's skin and I'm suddenly alert and aware, itching to trace the lines with my fingers and tongue. I can't make out the design, only seeing the ink as he reveals it, inch by maddening inch. His whole torso and right shoulder are covered, the fluid lines creating swirling patterns before me.

He clears his throat and I look up, startled from my awe. His eyes are predatory slits, assessing me with a hungry grin as if he is the cat and I am the canary. He holds my gaze as I hear him shift on the bed followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. His eyes taunt me, daring me to look down, before I watch him lower himself towards me, one hand holding up his body as the other slides underneath me and tugs at my own zipper at my back. He promptly pulls the silk sheath off my body, tossing it without another thought off the side of the bed. Just as quickly, I find myself divested of my bra and thong.

"Mmmm," Edward hums as he runs his lips along the exposed skin between my breasts. "Fucking delicious."

Finally shaking myself out of my awe-induced stupor, my feel my hands rise and an innate thrill runs through me when my palms make contact with hot skin. My right hand runs up his arm and hooks around his neck while my left takes to stroking the barely raised skin where his tattoos lie.

We move towards each other in sync, our mouths meeting in the space between us in a sloppy, carnal imitation of a kiss. I'm so caught up in his lips that I barely notice his hands have left me. The subtle sound of foil grabs my attention and I revel in the thrill that works its way down my spine.

"Tell me you want me." It's not asking permission; it's a demand, a bid to prove that I am the weak one here.

I refuse to play his game, instead putting my mouth to better use by letting my tongue follow the black pathways contrasted against his skin. He grunts in my ear and I grin in victory. It doesn't last long, though, because my smugness is transformed into sheer pleasure as he plunges his cock into me without warning. I can't help the yelping moan that leaves me.

"Tell me you want me," Edward repeats, not moving an inch within me. It doesn't matter, though, because his sheer size is enough to have me halfway to climax.

"N-no," I gasp out in a stutter. I lift my legs and lock them high around his waist and I gasp again, with him this time, at just how much deeper in me he goes.

"I want you, Bella," he breathes into my ear as he begins to move. Slow thrusts so I can feel every inch, every centimetre of him as he moves his cock. He tops off the delightful torture with a grind that would send me flying if he weren't bearing down on me.

"Oh, fuck," I gasp when he moves so that my left nipple is trapped lightly between his teeth. "Yes, fuck, please, Edward."

This what he's been waiting for. The second his name leaves my lips, it's go time. The pace of his hips against mine is punishing, the pressure of his fingertips along my waist is bruising, his mouth and teeth are alternating in unpredictable patterns across my breasts. It's frantic, the essence of fucking, and I can do nothing except dig in my heels and hang on.

He shifts up on his knees after what feels like an eternity of mind numbing, skin sizzling pleasure and the angle that we move into has me screaming into the room hoarsely.

"F-fuck, Bella," he breathes, his hands gripping my hips tighter and I know I will have bruises when he moves his hands. "Touch yourself. I want – fuck, yeah – I want to see you come on my cock."

It's like my body is controlled by the sound of his voice; I am loathe in my head to do what he's demanding of me but my hands slide slowly up my ribs, kneading my breasts for a moment before caressing down my stomach. I watch him watch my fingers, one hand spreading my sensitive, pink skin while two fingers of my other hand presses down. The combined effect – his intense stare, the way his cock hits the right spot with every thrust, the extra pleasure I give to myself as I stroke shaky circles over my clit – sets me up for the most intense, mind blowing orgasm I've ever experienced: the room lights up in white light and I am weightless, floating through a tsunami of gratification.

"Oh, fuuuuck, Bella," I hear from a distance, jolts of bliss pulling me back to reality. I open my eyes in time to watch Edward come above me and the sight alone is enough to prolong my satisfaction.

Minutes or hours later, we lay panting beside each other and I resist the urge to kiss his feet and thank him profusely.

"That was…" he pauses, thinking of how to describe the amazing sex we just had, "fucking incredible."

"Oh, yeah," I agree, still breathless.

We are silent, staring at the ceiling, as the aura of lust dissipates and a blanket of awkward settles over us.

"I should go," I finally mutter, rising from the bed and gathering up all the things that had fallen out of my bra.

"Yeah, guess so," Edward replies lamely. "Did what we came to do, right?"

"Right," I confirm, nodding my head and covertly inspecting the state of my panties. The thong is ruined so I just ball it up and aim for the garbage can. But as the scrap of lace leaves my fingers, Edward's arm shoots up and intercepts it.

"I'll be keeping these, if you don't mind."

I shrug. "Sure. But I didn't peg you for a purple lace kind of guy."

He laughs and settles himself back on the bed, thong twined within his long, long fingers. I finished dressing under his watchful eye and turn for the door.

"So… See ya," I say. I'm never good at goodbyes, especially post-coital ones.

Edward nods. "We should do this again sometime."

I nod noncommittally back up towards the door. I stop, though, remembering the whole point of this little sexcapade. I take out my phone and ask Edward if I can grab a picture. He nods and I walk back towards the bed, kneeling over and kissing him full on the mouth. I snap the picture of the two of us then move away. I shoot him a final wink before scurrying out of his room.

As I walk towards the elevator, I pull up Jake's phone number out of my contact list and open a blank text, attaching the picture of Edward and me and sending it as I press the 'Down' button. I grin when I see the sent alert.

Revenge has never been sweeter.