This was my entry to the anonymous Taste of the Forbidden II contest, and to my delight it won first place in the public vote. Thanks to SparrowNotes24 and M for all their help with this.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer; I just make them do naughty things.
Alice Cullen is one of those thirty-something women who refuses to look anything other than perfect. Her dark, glossy hair is perfectly bobbed, skimming her exposed shoulders, and her makeup is flawlessly applied. I watch as her glossy lips turn down into a frown when her cell phone alerts her to yet another text, and she scrolls down the screen, tapping on it with her pink and white manicured nails, a soft sigh escaping her mouth as she reads her latest missive. She doesn't even look up as she continues to bark instructions at me.
"Ben needs to be in bed by seven, otherwise he's cranky in the morning, and I don't want to deal with that tomorrow. Don't let him drink any more than five ounces of milk, otherwise his diaper gets too full." Finally she glances up and catches my eye. "Angela tells me you're used to children. Is that right?"
Angela is my best friend, and the Cullens' ex-babysitter, and I'm starting to realize why. "I have two younger brothers, I look after them all the time—" I'm about to launch into an explanation of my first aid qualifications and previous babysitting experience, but she has already turned around and is walking out of the room, muttering about finding her other earring. Shrugging my shoulders, I turn and walk into the living room, joining her two-year-old son on the floor, where he is grabbing at building blocks and putting them in his mouth.
"Shall we build a tower?" I ask him, remembering how much my little brother, Seth, used to love pushing them over. Placing five, brightly colored, wooden blocks on top of each other, I take his hand and show him how to knock them back down. He squeals with delight, his grubby, fat cheeks pulling up into a gurgling smile as he watches the blocks tumble back on to the carpet.
"Again?" I suggest, smiling as I watch Ben nod furiously. He's a cute kid; his full, guileless face is topped with an unruly mop of light brown hair, a shade that somehow compliments his green eyes. He has the sort of face you want to pinch, so you can feel the softness of his chubby cheeks under your fingers.
"Ben, Mommy's leaving now. Come give me a kiss." Alice is back in the room, sweeping through to the corner where we are sitting, playing with his toys. I grimace at her words; having dealt with two-year-olds before, I know that telling them you were leaving can be a double-edged sword. Either they sob and cling to your legs, or they ignore you completely. Either way, you leave the house feeling like shit.
Ben chooses the ignoring route, and eventually she dips and kisses the top of his head, her eyebrows knitting into a frown. Glancing one last time at me—the babysitter she has never met before, and hasn't even asked for references—she gives me a tight smile.
"My husband is at the courthouse late this evening, but should be home by ten or eleven. I'll be much later, this gala isn't due to finish until midnight and I have to stay to the end. I've left your money on the kitchen counter, along with our cell phone numbers." She doesn't even wait for a response, all but running to the door in her eagerness to leave.
Ben turns out to be an easy kid; he seems happy to have my full attention, and when 6:30 p.m. arrives, he is positively delighted to be given a bath. After a cup of warm milk, and a short story, he settles into his oversized crib and closes his eyes without so much as an argument. And now I'm wondering if Mrs. Cullen needs a regular sitter over the summer.
I don't bother switching on the TV when I sit back down in the living room, since I have a ton of pre-reading for my college course that starts in a month's time. I know I shouldn't complain, and I know I was lucky to get a partial scholarship to Virginia State, but I'd only just graduated from high school when the thick manila envelope with a huge list of reading landed in our mailbox, and the thought of more coursework depresses me.
Between the reading I have to do, and the fact I've spent all summer working two jobs in an effort to build up my bank balance, I feel absolutely exhausted and I begin to fall asleep on the Cullens' comfortable, tweed sofa. The whirring of the air conditioning in their palatial home is like white noise, and my heavy eyelids gradually droop until they are completely closed, my breathing slowing until awareness drops away.
Waking up with a jolt, my heart stutters as I realize it is completely dark in this room, and it takes a moment for me to work out where I am. Another second or two and my eyes condition themselves to the lack of light, and I see a figure looming in front of me, leaning toward me as my heart races, and I open my mouth to scream. The noise only emerges from my open mouth for a second before a hand is clamped over it, and every nerve in my body is on fire; I'm in fight or flight mode, my eyes wide as I stare at the green eyes right in front of my face.
"Fuck…I mean, oh shit, don't scream. I didn't mean to wake you." He speaks to me in a hushed voice, and though he still has his hand firmly over my mouth, my body starts to calm, inhaling deeply through my nose, the oxygen speeding down to my lungs. "I'm going to let go now, okay? Don't wake Ben, he's always restless at this time of night."
A few thoughts go through my head. First of all, he knows Ben, which means he isn't a random stranger. Secondly, he's managed to let himself into the house, so he's probably Alice's husband rather than a criminal intent on raping or killing me. Thirdly, I realize he smells fucking fantastic.
As he releases me, and moves a few steps away, a part of me screams in frustration at the loss of his touch, and I shake my head in an effort to get some sense into my brain. He walks over to the table on the side of the couch and turns on the lamp; the gentle glow illuminating the room enough for me to see him clearly for the first time.
And oh, my God, is he hot. Alice Cullen has managed to bag herself a sexy motherfucker of a husband, and I start to wonder why it's always the bitches that snag the good looking guys. He's wearing a dark suit, his tie pulled loose and hanging around his neck, his white shirt open at the collar, showing just a hint of hair curling up from his chest. He is staring at me like he's afraid I'm going to start screaming again, but even with that concerned expression he can't look anything but beautiful. His straight, patrician nose leads down to full, sensual lips, slightly open and moist from where he must have licked them recently. His eyes—like his son's—are bright green, and his hair a deep red-brown color, all thick and messy from where he has been running his hands through it in an agitated response to my anxiety and subsequent screams.
"Are you okay?" He walks towards me with his hands held out in front of him, as if he's trying to show me he holds no weapons. His movements are nervous and slow, and I try to rearrange my features to show him I am calm.
Even if I'm not.
"I'm sorry; I thought you were an intruder." My mind flashes back to the feel of his hand over my mouth and my breath hitches again. I have the strangest urge to touch him, to make a connection between us.
He laughs. "Maybe I should introduce myself properly. I'm Edward Cullen; I'm hoping my wife told you I'd be coming home around now."
I nod in agreement, and watch as he pulls his tie off completely, laying it on the arm of the sofa before he undoes a couple more buttons of his shirt—I'm definitely disappointed when he stops at two. He sits down in the black leather armchair opposite the couch, his long, suit clad legs sprawled out in front of him, and I have to move my eyes upward to stop staring at his crotch, because it is right in my eye-line.
"Do you have a name?" He sounds like he's talking to a little kid now, and my lips curl up as I look back at him. His eyes really are an unusual shade, and they sweep down, taking in my body, stopping at my bare legs where they emerge from the denim shorts I'm wearing.
I've calmed down enough to laugh. "I'm Bella Swan, babysitter and part-time screamer." His eyebrows lift at my last words, and I realize they may have other connotations. To cover my embarrassment, I continue, "I'm so sorry I fell asleep, I was just reading and I must have dozed off. I had the baby monitor on the whole time."
"Don't sweat it; I fall asleep on that couch all the time. It's way too cosy for its own good."
Now I'm imagining him curled up on the couch, wearing only pajama pants, his sculpted chest bare and peppered with soft hair. When I add that to the memory of his hand grasping my face, muffling my screams, I realize I have created the perfect montage for tonight's bedtime date with my fingers.
A few days later I wake up and realize I'm alone in the house. Dad and Sue have left for work, dropping the boys at summer camp on the way, and I have a day stretching ahead of me without having to work the register at Newton's Outfitters. I can't decide what I want to do, so I walk downstairs to get myself some breakfast, filling up the coffee machine and walking over to the fridge to get some milk.
That's when my day starts to turn to shit. Either Seth or Jake have used the last of the milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge, so Sue hasn't realized we're out. The thought of breakfast without milk makes me want to punch the bright yellow kitchen wall, and I flex my knuckles in frustration. My truck has been out of gas for a few days, and I've been putting off filling it because I really can't afford to pay for that right now. There's no other choice but to walk to the grocer's about a mile and a half away, so I run upstairs and fling on a pair of shorts and a tank top, pulling on my chucks and picking up my purse as I leave the house.
There's a gas station right at the bottom of Old Dominion, so I walk down the wide, tree-covered road, trying to keep myself in the shade of the trees in an effort to avoid sunburn from the hot Virginia sun. The cars speed past me, the warm breeze of air that comes in their wake making my skin overheat. I hardly notice when one car slows down to a halt, coasting along at the speed of my gait.
"Isn't it a little hot to be out walking?" A smooth voice interrupts my thoughts and I glance over to see Edward Cullen leaning across from the driver's seat, talking to me through the open car window.
Looking in the back, I see Ben sitting in a sturdy car seat, his fingers playing with a plastic toy as he makes soft whooshing sounds with his little mouth.
"It was that or starve," I reply dryly, watching as his lips curl up into a lazy, lopsided grin; the thin lines around his eyes deepening as he smiles.
"You should join us at the pool. It's the only place to be on a sweltering day like this."
I want to ask him why he's not at work, and why he has stopped to talk to me. I want to find out if he's really inviting me to join them, or whether he's just making conversation. Most of all I want to see this fuck-hot man in a pair of swim trunks.
"I'm not a member." My answer is curt because this pisses me off. Most of the kids at school wax lyrical about McLean Swim and Tennis; gossiping about their swim team and their barbecue nights. In the Swan household we don't have the money to spare; a once a summer trip to the beach is all we can afford.
"I'll sign you in. Come with us, Ben would love it."
Ben doesn't look like he could give a shit, but I really want to go to the pool now, and I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I pull open the door and jump into the passenger seat, instructing him to drive to my place first so I can pick up a swimsuit. It's only when we're moving that I glance down and notice he's wearing a checked pair of swim trunks already; they stop just above the knee to reveal his tanned, lightly haired legs. He clearly works out, and his calves are sculpted, a taut line of muscle running from his knee to his ankle, and I'm fighting off the urge to touch them.
At the pool I change into my bikini: a tiny, white, crocheted number I bought from TJ Maxx last year. I've grown a little since then, and my breasts have definitely become fuller, so it's barely on the right side of respectable. As I walk out of the changing room I spot Mr. Cullen and Ben sitting on a lounger, under a wicker canopy and away from the pool. He's blowing up Ben's water wings and then pulling them up his arms, and it's only when I am nearly on top of them that he notices me. I can't help but smile at his wide eyed, shocked reaction. I then sit down on the lounger next to him, and start to rub on some lotion, occasionally glancing his way to see if he is still watching me.
Eventually, I've covered every part of my body I can reach, and even if it's clichéd, and totally inappropriate, I have no choice other than to ask him to lotion my back. He stutters a quick "yes," almost snatching the bottle out of my hand, and then only a moment later I can feel his warm hands gliding against my spine, the coolness of the lotion on my skin making my back arch in response.
I don't know whether I want him to get this over with, or to take it nice and slow, but he goes at his own pace, and as his large hands move against me, I can feel my nipples start to pebble. He has reached my lower back now, his thumbs digging into the soft skin of my hips as he makes hard circling motions against my skin. I want to turn around and look at his face, to see if he is reacting to this as strongly as I am. I glance over to see Ben obliviously playing with a blow-up dolphin, and I realize it is time to stop this before it gets started.
"Thanks." I almost snatch the bottle back out of his hand, and the look of surprise on his face makes me want to laugh. His gaze is still firmly locked on my back, and his tongue reaches out to moisten his dry lips as he breathes slowly in and out.
I scoop Ben up and run into the children's pool with him in a desperate attempt to put some distance between me and his very married father. I can't believe I'm being so obvious, and the blush that creeps up my face has nothing to do with the heat of the morning sun. The guy is at least twelve years older than me—with a great family and job—and there is absolutely no reason why he should show the slightest interest in an eighteen-year-old student without a dollar to her name.
Which is why I find it astounding when I look back over to him and notice him adjust himself in his shorts, before putting his own lotion on and joining us in the pool.
The following week, I find myself back in the Cullens' large executive house, looking after a sleeping Ben, while his dad is out at a late meeting. Alice is away for a few days—apparently her job as a lobbyist on Capitol Hill takes her all over the country—and their nanny has the night off. Rather than fall asleep on the couch again, I sit out on their screened lanai, putting the baby monitor on the smoked glass table in front of me as I watch the fireflies light up the trees in the backyard like hundreds of tiny candles.
And this is where I still am when Edward gets home. I hear him pull open the glass sliding door, and glance up to see him rolling up his shirt sleeves. The thermometer is still showing eighty degrees, and his shirt clings to his chest, crumpled from the heat.
"No screaming this time?" He winks at me as he falls back into the chair opposite.
"It was a one-time only thing. I hope you enjoyed it." I smirk at him, and put my feet up on the low table in front of me in an effort to make my thighs look thinner. He glances at them, his eyes darkening in response.
"I always enjoy making women scream." He ups the ante particularly well, and I almost want to congratulate him. Instead I smirk again, and feel the wetness pool between my legs as I imagine him doing exactly that to me.
I mumble something insipid like "good to know," in reply, and before I know it I'm sitting on his lap, my legs straddling him as he pulls my hair sharply, making my face lift upward until he can lean down and smash his lips against mine. I'm not sure who opens their mouth first, but only a second later our tongues are duelling with each other, and I put one hand around his back, the other in his hair in an attempt not to fall away from him.
The kiss deepens, his lips sucking at my tongue before he pushes his own back in my mouth again. In a rhythm as old as time, I start to rock my body back and forth against his, desperate to feel the relief of his hard cock against my clit, the wetness increasing until my panties are soaked. He moans into my mouth, and bucks right back onto me, his hands grasping at my hips so he can move me faster.
I'm so caught up in the need to seek pleasure that I barely notice him undoing the button on my shorts, pulling down the zipper and dipping his hand inside. It must be a tight fit for his big hand to slide under my panties, but he manages it and he grazes his finger against my clit, circling it softly while he moves his mouth to my neck, sucking, kissing and scraping his teeth against my skin.
His hand flexes and I feel him push a finger inside me, followed by a second, before he withdraws and spreads my wetness across the rest of my pussy. He then puts his thumb on my clit, pushing against it in a firm motion as he continues to fuck me with his fingers. I'm a ball of need, panting softly as I drop my head on his shoulder, holding on to him as he brings his other hand up inside my top and pinches my bra-less nipples, the sensation making me gasp.
"I want to feel you come all over my fingers," he whispers in my ear. I can only let out a strangled moan in reply as I feel myself clenching against him as I tip over into the hardest orgasm I've ever felt.
I'm still coming as he lifts me off him and sharply tugs at my shorts, pulling them down with my panties in one smooth movement. I stand in front of him on unsteady legs as he pulls off his own pants and boxers, his steel-hard cock springing up against his stomach as soon as it's released. He puts his hands on my buttocks and pulls me back onto his lap, urgently whispering in my ear as his cock grazes my slick entrance.
"Are you protected and clean?"
"Yes." Right at this moment I'm thanking Angela's foresight when she told me to go on the pill before I went to college, and I've always practiced safe sex with my few previous partners.
His cock is nudging at me impatiently, and I'm so wet that it easily slides inside my entrance. The width of him makes me gasp, and it takes a moment for me to become used to the feeling of fullness. I look up and meet his dark green gaze, and neither of us can tear our eyes away as I let my hips drop down until I slide all the way down; my mouth lets out the breath I didn't know I was holding as the intensity of his large cock inside me is all I can register.
I can feel a fine glaze of sweat glistening on my skin as I begin to move up and down on top of him. His breaths are short and harsh, and they are bathing my face as we continue to stare into each other's eyes. I'm not sure whether this is fucking or making love, and frankly I don't care, because I'm all wetness and sensation, desire and need, and nothing is going to stop me moving my pussy up and down on his fine cock.
He leans back slightly, until he's rubbing directly against my clit, as well as the sensitive skin inside of me. My inner thighs quiver as pleasure begins to snake its way through my body, and I'm doing everything I can not to cry out as I come hard on top of him, pulsing intensely around him until I'm almost milking his cock.
"Fuck, Bella, I'm going to come." His mouth is against my ear as he lifts me up and down on him, his hands cupping my behind. His harsh pants get louder and more unsteady until he freezes below me, and I can feel his hot spunk filling me up, as he thrusts gently to ride out his orgasm.
I collapse on top of him, welcoming the warm embrace of his arms as he buries his head in my neck and kisses me all over. I know I should be feeling guilty, but the intense need and desire I have for this intoxicating man suffocates everything else, and all I can think about is when will be the next time I get to feel him inside me.
When I get home later, I'm in bed when I receive his text.
I can still taste you on my fingers.
I make a mental note to delete the text before either my dad or Angela take it upon themselves to scroll through my history. I don't erase it right away because I keep looking at it as I touch myself, remembering the feeling of his body as he fucked me hard in the warm evening air.
The next week drags. We only get to meet up twice for hot, frantic sex, before he has to travel to Philadelphia for a few days to work on a case. I feel myself pining for him, missing the man just as much as I miss the things he does to my body. On the second day he is away, I'm working at Newton's when I receive a text from him, and I sneak into the storage room so that I can read it.
I'm sitting at work and can't stop thinking about you. I'm wrapping my hand around my hard cock under my desk and wishing it was your mouth.
Closing my eyes, I remember how good his cock tasted, how the soft, smooth skin stretched over his hardness felt against my tongue. Suddenly the stockroom feels overly warm, as I tap out a quick reply.
I wish I could run my tongue down your silky shaft and suck you until you come. I need to taste you.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I quickly answer it, hoping that nobody in the shop heard it ring.
"Bella." His voice is strangled and I know he really is touching himself. The thought of it makes me so wet I can't help but cup my aching pussy through my shorts.
"Edward," I breathe, and I hear him gasp in response.
"I'm imagining your sweet lips wrapped around me right now. I've got my hand wrapped in your hair and you're taking me all the way to the back of your throat." He is breathless and needy and so very fucking sexy.
"You taste so good, baby. I love to feel your cock in my mouth." I feel kind of funny talking dirty in the stockroom, but it's quiet and very few people come in here. And I really like the reaction I'm getting from Edward.
"Fuck, Bella, you're going to make me come. Tell me where you want my spunk."
"I want to swallow every last bit. And then I'm going to run my tongue all over your cock to make sure I haven't left anything. Maybe there'll be too much to swallow and a little bit will dribble out of my mouth, dropping slowly on to my tits—" My over descriptive, rather novice dirty talk is interrupted by his long drawn out moan, and I imagine him bucking up and down on his leather office chair, long spurts of come shooting up and over his hand. God, I wish I was brave enough to touch myself at work.
"Jesus, baby. That was something else." His voice is calmer now, as I listen to it caress my ears. "I'm desperate to see you again."
"Me too." I smile at the thought of Friday, when he's due to come home. I'm not sure if we'll get to meet up—and I have a shift to work at Newton's anyway—but just knowing he'll be back in town is enough to lift my spirits.
The following day I receive a phone call from Alice Cullen, and I can feel a little bit of guilt creeping its way into my psyche as she asks me to babysit for her that evening. She tells me Edward is away with work, and I try to sound surprised as I agree to get there for seven that night.
Ben, as usual, is a sweetheart, and he goes out like a light when I put him to bed. I feel weird at the thought of calling Edward from his own home, so instead switch my phone to vibrate and pick up the old copy of 'Far from the Madding Crowd' I bought from the local thrift store. It's on the pre-reading list for my English Lit course, and I try to bury myself in the old English phrases and Dorset landscapes that Thomas Hardy describes in detail.
I'm still only a hundred pages in when I hear the front door click. There are muffled voices in the hallway, and for one thrilling moment I wonder if Edward has come home early with her. Nervousness pervades my body, and I'm not sure I'm ready to face them both in the same room. I'm certain the guilt will be written all over my tell-tale face.
Glancing up as the living room door opens, I see Alice almost stumbling into the room, her usual perfectly coiffed hair a little mussed up, and a big grin stretching across her face. She looks over at me, her eyebrows rising up as if she's surprised to see me there, and then she glances behind at the man following her in through the door.
"Bella, there you are." She is uneasy now, and her hand reaches up to pat down her hair, her eyes sliding to the corner to look at the stout, blond guy who seems to have his hands wrapped around her waist. "This is Jasper, he's a work colleague."
"Hi." Fuck, this is awkward. My face is flaming hot as I quickly stuff my book back into my bag, trying to ignore the fact that Alice's "work colleague" seems to be kissing her neck, his hands cupping her ass as he grinds into her. I'm so flustered that it's only when I get into the cab of my truck that I realize the sorry bitch hasn't even paid me. I debate for a moment whether or not I should go back in, because I really need those forty dollars, but instead decide to call her in the morning and remind her what she owes.
I don't even want to think about how fucked up their relationship is—but Edward and Alice have some serious problems. Are they aware they're both cheating on each other? Do they even care? I find myself worrying for Ben, for his future, and wondering how long it will take them to work out that they are better off without each other.
The next morning, Alice calls me before I even leave for my shift at Newton's. When she tells me she has my money, I agree to meet her in the café next door to the shop during my lunch break.
"Bella, I'm so sorry about last night," she tells me, as I sit down at the small table she has reserved for our lunch. "I should never have brought Jasper home."
I try to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. It's like I have a big neon sign flashing 'MUG' right across my forehead. I'm no Doctor Phil, and nor do I want to listen to her woes.
"Okay," I reply tightly, and pick at the orange chicken salad the waitress has laid in front of me.
Unable to take a hint, Alice continues, "I don't want you to think badly of me. It's just that Edward and I have been finding things difficult ever since we had Ben. It's not like I don't love him or anything."
There is no place I'd rather be less right now, than sitting here, in front of my lover's wife, listening to her dissect their relationship. I rack my brains trying to think of a way to escape, and then spot Mike Newton walk into the café to pick up his sandwich order. I feel a sense of relief wash over me; Mike is an old friend from school whose parents own Newton's, and I know I can rely on him to help out a damsel in distress.
"I'm so sorry, that's my boss," I mutter quickly. "I'll just go and see what he wants." I run to him, grab hold of his arm and whisper in his ear, "Pretend there's a crisis in the shop and you need me back there right now."
He looks at me quizzically, and then glances over at where Alice is sitting; his eyebrows rising up in a silent question. I know he's going to try and squeeze the juicy details out of me later, but I'll do anything right now to get out of this awkward situation.
He picks up his order, then turns to me and talks loudly. "I'm really sorry Bella, but we need you back at the shop. We've got a rush delivery and I need you to pack it up."
"Okay." I can't even be bothered to fake a protest. I glance over at Alice and feign an apologetic wave, patting my pocket to make sure I have the forty dollars she handed over as soon as I walked into the café.
The rest of the day passes quickly, and Mike finally corners me in the display window, a big smirk on his face as he asks me to explain what the scene in the café was all about. I glance at my watch and see there's only five minutes until closing, and I figure I can avoid his inquisition for that long before I make a run for it.
"I can't tell you, Mike, it's top secret."
"Fuck you, Swan. I covered for you; you owe me." He has his hands on his hips and is covering the only exit route from the display. I narrow my eyes at him and consider my options.
"Okay, if you insist, she was telling me about her terrible periods, and how every time she menstruates she bleeds all over the place—" My words are interrupted by Mike putting his fingers in his ears and 'lalala-ing' to block out my voice. As soon as he realizes I've stopped, he pulls them out again.
"Don't try and bullshit a bullshitter; I can smell the crap from fifty feet." He starts to advance toward me, his big steel-capped boots clipping on the floor as he steps.
"You know I'm not going to tell you." I start to lift my arms in front of me in an attempt to ward him off, because I know what's coming and it isn't going to be pretty.
"In that case, Swan, you leave me with no alternative. I'm going to have to torture it out of you." He jumps toward me; his hands outstretched and grabs my waist, his fingers moving rapidly as he tickles my sides, the intense feeling on my nerve endings making me giggle uproariously.
"Please stop, Mike." I'm hyperventilating, and I have to cross my legs to prevent any accidents as a result of my total loss of control. I start screaming at him, "Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!"
"Doesn't work when you're over five. I'm ready to stop as soon as you're ready to spill." He's laughing as loudly as I am, and I begin to wonder what all the people passing the window must think of us goofing around in front of them. I look down at my watch and note that it's now 6 p.m., and I'm officially done with work for the day. Mike is still laughing his head off, and I see my chance, squeezing between him and the life-size stuffed bear that is Newton's mascot, and almost running over to the register where I've left my purse. He starts to chase after me, but then notices his mom standing at the counter, her hands on her hips as she slowly shakes her head at him. I watch with amusement as he lopes off toward the shelves displaying carabiners of various sizes and starts to tidy them up.
Saying my goodbyes, I walk out into the warm Virginia air, my gait slowed to a sudden stop by the sight of Edward Cullen, standing directly in front of me. He's wearing soft blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt, and there's a pair of Ray Bans covering his eyes, so I can't see his expression. But from the way his mouth is tight and hard I get the impression that somebody has pissed him off big time.
It's only a moment later I learn that person is me.
He grabs my arm and marches me over to his sleek, black car. I notice the soft top is down, and there's no sign of a car seat in the back. He opens the door and pushes me down on the cream, leather passenger seat, slamming it behind me as he stalks around and sits behind the wheel.
"Hi?" I venture softly, trying to work out what I've done wrong.
"Are you fucking him?"
I recoil at the harshness in his tone, and the grimace that has worked its way across his mouth.
"Who?" I'm genuinely confused, although my answer only seems to make him angrier.
He pushes a button next to the steering wheel and the engine fires up, and before I even have time to do up my seatbelt he is backing out of the parking space, spinning the car around and roaring out of the lot. I watch him silently as he faces the road ahead, his jaw twitching as he keeps his mouth tightly closed. After a minute or so he decides to answer my question.
"That guy in the window. The one you were fucking around with, the one who was touching you and making you giggle like a schoolgirl."
It dawns on me he must have witnessed the whole episode of Mike and his tickling hands. Half of me wants to laugh with relief at the fact he has misunderstood so badly, and the other half wants to slap him around the face for being such a domineering bastard.
"Is that any of your business?" I notice he's driving up toward Great Falls Park, but rather than pull into the main parking lot, he manoeuvres the car onto a gravelled path that leads to a couple of deserted parking bays.
"Damn right it's my business." He puts the cark into park, and then turns around and undoes both our seatbelts. Twisting on his seat, he takes my chin into his hand and squeezes lightly, his face only inches from my own. "You belong to me, Bella. I don't appreciate another man touching what's mine."
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the tingling feeling that has lit up between my thighs. "I don't belong to anybody. And you can hardly talk, Edward; you're the one who's married!"
My response only serves to make him more irate, and he hits the steering wheel with his flat palm, before wrenching at his car door, getting out and striding over to my side of the car, pulling the passenger door open.
"Fuck you." I'm getting as angry as he is now, and I'm about a minute away from slapping his gorgeous face. The fact that he reaches in and drags me out of the seat only serves to rile me completely, and I start to hit at his arms as he pulls me into the woods.
"Stop fucking hitting me. I just want to talk to you."
"I was happy to talk in the car." We're getting deeper into the trees now, and as the evening draws in, the darkness is blanketing us. I shiver despite the warmth of the night air.
"Jesus Christ, Bella, will you tell me what's going on with you and him?" He sounds more miserable than mad, and I soften slightly as I take in the dejected expression on his face.
"Edward, there's nothing going on between us. He's a friend and co-worker, and he was just trying to make me spill some beans."
I sigh. This conversation is heading in a direction I have no intention of following, because I sure as hell don't intend to be the one to tell him his wife is having an affair with another man.
"Just work stuff. It doesn't matter anyway."
He leans against the trunk of a large tree, and runs his fingers through his hair; any sense of fight seemingly knocked out of his body. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing any more, Bella. I get home from Philadelphia, and all I can think about is seeing you. And then when I watched you in the window with him, and saw him touching you and the way the two of you were laughing, I was torn between coming in and ripping his fucking head off, and leaving you to it because you deserve better than me."
I put my hand out and cup his cheek, wanting to wipe the distraught expression from his face. He leans his head down into my hand for a moment, before turning it until he can place his lips on my wrist, his soft mouth sucking at the sensitive skin at the base of my palm.
My heart beats faster in response to his touch. He looks up at me through his clear, green eyes, and pulls me to him roughly, twisting his hand in my hair until it is almost painful, then crushes his mouth against mine in a possessive gesture, his teeth scraping at the tender skin inside my lip until it starts to bleed.
I grab hold of his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin until I can feel him gasp. He moves his hands down to my ass and pulls me up and against him, and I wrap my legs around his hips. Barely a second passes before he twists around and pushes me up against the tree, moving one of his hands away from my butt to desperately fumble at the buttons on his jeans, pulling them down before he does the same to my own.
And now there's nothing between us apart from his hardness and my slickness; it's like the whole argument has been one extended session of foreplay. I whimper with the need to have him inside me, to feel him stretching me as he pumps his hard cock furiously back and forth.
"Edward, please…" I murmur into his lips.
"Wait." His voice is a command and I respond to it with another moan. This dominant, angry Edward has me completely in his thrall.
He lifts me a little farther up against the rough bark of the tree, and then lines his cock up against my entrance. His pause makes me gasp, and I flex my hips against him in an effort to pull him inside of me.
"I told you to wait." He stares straight into my eyes, and I can feel his breath against my face. My legs start to tremble in anticipation, and his hands steady my movement, his fingernails digging into the flesh of my behind.
Just as I start to feel bereft at the feeling of emptiness, he slowly flexes his hips forward, until his cock is half inside of me, and I can see his jaw clenching at the effort it takes not to start thrusting. I try to keep myself still, knowing this is a war of wills: whoever capitulates first is the loser, even though we will both be winners in the end.
"I'm going to fuck you now, Bella," he whispers in my ear, and before I can reply he slams me hard against the tree, filling me up to the hilt; my body feeling every inch as he grinds against me. And this isn't making love, it isn't sex—it's cold, hard fucking, and I love it.
He sets a furious pace, his expression still grim as he pounds against me; the roughness of the tree against my back contrasting deliciously with the smoothness of his muscular body. He bends his head down and sucks at my skin, biting it until tears come to my eyes, and I cry out in surprised pleasure. His tongue licks and his lips softly suck at the indentation he has made on my neck, and I can feel myself tensing around his cock as my body starts to hum in anticipation of my climax.
"You are so fucking tight, I love it." He starts to thrust even harder, and it feels like my teeth are rattling inside my head. "I want you come on my cock, baby."
Just his harsh voice in my ear is enough to spill me over the edge. I orgasm with a loud groan, dipping my head into the crook between his neck and his shoulder and biting hard, loving the feeling of his body tense against the pain I'm inflicting on him.
"Fuuuuucckkkkk." He comes in hot, harsh spurts, and I feel him shake slightly as he continues to hold me up against the tree, his biceps flexing against the weight of my body.
We remain there for a few moments longer, trying to regain control of our breathing and our bodies as we stare straight into each other's eyes. There's a softness in his expression now, and he bends down to brush his lips against mine in a sweet gesture. I have to close my eyes to stop the tears that are suddenly threatening to fall.
When he finally pulls out of me and sets me on the ground, I feel a trail of come winding its way down my leg, but I don't even have the energy to look for something to clean myself up with. We are both battered and bruised: our lips are stung and raw, our necks have bite marks, and Edward's torso is covered with the indentations I've made with my nails. It's like we've both been trying to mark each other, and I push away any thoughts I have about his wife spotting the tell-tale signs of his infidelity. Finally dressed, we walk back to the car, and Edward grabs my hand, pulling me toward him as he buries his face in my hair, and his hand snakes around my waist in a firm grip. I hear him murmur something against my head, and though his voice is too quiet to make it out, it sounds ridiculously similar to the words "I love you."
The days before college pass all too quickly, and Alice doesn't call me again to ask me to babysit. Whether this is in response to my rudeness toward her in the café, or as a result of any suspicions she may harbor regarding me and Edward, I don't know, and I can't bring myself to care. I miss playing with Ben, and I have a feeling if I asked him, Edward would bring him out to see me, but I'd feel like a bitch, and even Alice doesn't deserve that.
The day before I'm due to leave, Dad and Sue hold a party for me in the backyard, and a few of the old gang from high school join us. They ask me where I've been all summer, and I blushingly explain I've been really busy working, reading and preparing for college, inwardly smiling at the secret I'm keeping. By the time I'm opening the presents everybody has brought, the afternoon is becoming unbearably hot, and there's murmurs of moving into the house, where the air-conditioning is running at full capacity.
My eye catches a movement by the side of the house, and before I can react, I see the angry face of Alice Cullen appear in our backyard, her fists clutching Edward's cell phone as she starts to yell at me.
"Are you fucking my husband?" She comes to a stop right in front of me, and I feel myself begin to shake. I have no idea where to look; I don't want to see Dad and Sue's reactions, but I'm desperate to avoid looking at Alice, because I know the truth is written plainly across my face.
My lack of response clearly isn't enough for her, because she grabs my face and spits out the words again. "I said, are you fucking Edward?"
I open my mouth to respond but nothing comes out. All I can think about is the texts we sent each other last night, and how I came so hard as I teased my clit the exact way he told me to.
"What the hell is this?" My dad has joined in now, and a feeling of mortification weighs down on me like a blanket. I try to stand up, but Alice's fingers are still digging into my chin and despite her small frame, she is surprisingly strong.
"Maybe you should ask your daughter that loaded question." She thrusts the cell phone at him, and I close my eyes, shaking my head as I wish I could disappear. If my dad reads those texts, I swear I will drop down dead in my own backyard. She continues to rant, "How long has this been going on?"
I finally find my voice, and I'm astonished by its equanimity. "It started about the same time you brought that guy home and fucked him." I glance over and clock my father's expression. "Sorry, Dad."
It's Sue who is the voice of reason, and she puts a gentle hand on my father's angry shoulder. She then pulls all the guests inside, telling me to call out if I need her, her tone leaving me in little doubt that if I asked her to, she would cut a bitch. I think I fall a little more deeply in love with her.
As soon as we're alone Alice's bravado seems to vanish into the midday air, as if she was only drawing energy from the gawping crowd around us. I sit back in my chair and watch her sink into the one next to me, her face crumpling as she makes an effort to bite back any tears.
"What is it you want to know, Alice?" I figure I owe her this, at least.
"Do you love him?"
Ah, the million dollar question.
"Yes." I don't even have to hesitate, because every inch of my body is screaming out in agreement.
"How long has it really been going on?"
I add the days up in my head, coming out with a surprising response. "About two months." It seems like longer, in fact it seems like I've loved him forever.
"Did you think about Ben at all?"
Her words make me cough out a laugh. This is the woman who left her two-year-old son alone with me, without checking any references; the lady who spends more time with her manicurist than she does playing with her son. I shake my head and wonder just how many questions she might have about me and Edward.
"You know he'll never leave me, right? Because I'm going to fight you for him, and I'm going to fight dirty. He's mine." Her voice is vehement, and I'm left with no doubt she intends to come out on top. And with my imminent departure to VSU, I'm pretty sure she will win.
"I get that, Alice."
Her face slackens at my words, and the silence engulfs us; there is nothing left to say. As I watch her leave I wonder if she is going to see Edward right now, and the pain that stabs my heart feels unbelievably stark.
When I get inside the house the guests have gone home, and I try to apologize to Dad and Sue for the most spectacular ending to a party in Virginia history. They seem more concerned about me, and when I break down in Sue's arms, we decide it would be best if Dad and I leave for VSU immediately. I figure I will wait until we reach Petersburg to try and contact Edward, because I need the distance and enough breathing space to try and clear things in my mind.
As we drive down the I95, Dad cranks up the radio and taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat, and both of us avoid any conversation that could lead to embarrassment. Without Sue sitting between us we have nothing to say; I'm too shy, and he is too uncomfortable to ever face the fact I've been sleeping with an older, married man.
The three hours it takes for us to get there flash past, and I barely notice the scenery or the time as I think about my situation, and wonder if I'll ever get to talk to Edward again. I try to cheer myself up with the thought of dorm rooms, parties and college life, but they all seem so colorless in the absence of him.
I register at the accommodations office and am given the details of my dorm room, then we carry my suitcase, and the few boxes I have packed, into the building and up the two flights of stairs. My room is bare and stark, with two of everything: beds, wardrobes, desks and lamps. I've already talked to my new roommate on Facebook, and she seems pretty pleasant. She has told me she doesn't plan to move in until later in the week. In her absence, I decide to take the bed nearest the window, which overlooks the pretty quad area in front of the building. Dad stays just long enough to help me place all the boxes on my unmade bed, and then he high tails it out of the building. I try not to smile as I watch him run across the quad in his haste to get out of here. I really should send him a card to thank him for being so awesome.
Night time arrives, and I'm fully unpacked and at a loose end. I keep staring at my cell phone, wondering if Alice still has Edward's phone, or if it is safe to call him yet. I roll my lip back and forth between my teeth as I fret over my next move, and eventually I decide to get ready for bed.
The weather is still hot, and the air conditioning in this old building isn't very efficient, so I'm pleased that I've packed a tank and a pair of boy shorts to wear in bed. Just as I pull on my top, I notice the screen of my cell phone light up a moment before it begins to ring.
My heart stutters as the Caller ID reveals it is Edward calling me, or maybe it is Alice using Edward's phone. Either way I'm ridiculous in my eagerness to press the button and accept the call, and I breathe a very weak "hello," into the mouthpiece.
I want to cry at the sound of his voice. I want to reach through the phone and pull him across the connection, piece by piece, until I have him here with me in this room.
"Edward. I'm so sorry—"
"It's not your fault, baby. None of this is your fault." His voice is low and gravelly, as if he has been shouting. I wonder if this is a good sign.
"I didn't know what to do when she turned up. I just crumbled. I should have denied it." My words stumble across my tongue in their desperation to get out.
"Sweetheart, I don't want you to deny it. I told you you're mine and I meant it."
My breath stutters in response to his words, and I find myself sitting down hard on the bed.
"What about college? We're going to be so far apart."
Edward laughs, and my ice-cold heart begins to melt. "It's going to take some time for me to sort out my life. I have a divorce to organize and custody to petition. Therefore, I need you safely away from me so I can concentrate on that for a while."
"I wish you were here with me now, though." I lie back on the bed, feeling giddy at his revelations, and I can't stop a big smile from creeping across my face.
"Oh yeah, what would you do to me if I was there with you?" It comes out raspy, hot and full of need.
"I'd make you lean back on the bed and watch me as I slowly peel off my top to reveal my pert, little tits, and then I'd pull at my nipples until they're hard, and sensitive, and begging to be sucked." I close my eyes and start to bury my hand beneath my tank, smiling as I hear his harsh breath. "And then I'd pull my panties down, inch by inch, until you were desperate to see my pussy, to bury your fingers inside of me. But you have to wait, and you have to watch, because I'm touching myself in front of you, running my finger in circles on my clit, my other hand pulling at my breasts, pinching my nipples until I feel my thighs starting to tense."
Edward growls, the tone of his voice stabbing at my core. "And then I'd move up and grab you, Isabella, and make you sit on my face so I can lick at your sweet cunt, and run my tongue across your clit again and again until you are begging me to fuck you hard and fast."
I'm touching my pussy now, feeling the wetness cling to my finger as I push it inside of me, my thumb rubbing vigorously at my clit in a desperate need for release.
"Open your door, baby."
My eyes burst open and I sit up on the bed. "What?"
"Open your door now." Edward's voice is commanding, and I stand up on the carpeted floor, my body shaking as I walk toward the plain oak door in the corner of the room. I put my hand on the lock and twist, it, still shaking as I pull it open to reveal him standing right in front of me.
"Edward!" I throw myself at him, forgetting that I'm only wearing panties and a tank. He glances around to check that nobody has seen my half-naked body, before carrying me back inside my room, and kicking the door shut behind him.
He moves me over to my bed and throws me on it, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal his tanned, sculpted chest. His gaze holds on to mine as he tugs at his fly, and lets his jeans pool around his ankles, neatly stepping out of them as he climbs on to the bed.
He is looming over me now, and I lie on my back looking up at him, and he places a hand either side of my head as if he is caging me in. His lips capture mine in a long drawn-out kiss, and I fling my arms around his neck, knitting my fingers into his hair and pulling him even tighter against me.
Eventually, we have to break the kiss in a quest for air. Edward uses the pause to drag my panties down, until he has them free of my ankles before throwing them to the floor. Then he grabs my thighs and buries his face in my pussy, letting out a long drawn out moan as his nose grazes my clit.
I throw my head back and feel the soft bathing strokes of his tongue on me, my breath coming out in harsh pants as my hips begin to move to the rhythm of his ministrations. Just when I think I'm going to have to start begging him, he pushes a single finger inside me and curls it against my G-spot, massaging the tender skin until my whole pussy feels like it is on fire. His licks get harder against me, and he finally puts his lips around my clit and sucks, the sensation making my whole body explode into orgasm, as I buck against his mouth and his hand in total ecstasy.
His smirk as he releases me is all too brief, and I crawl along the bed and grab hold of his hard cock, and place my lips around the tip, sucking him in until I feel the head touch the back of my throat. He gasps at the sensation, and I slowly pull my lips back along his length until they are pursed around the top of his shaft, before I release him with a pop.
"Get your ass over here and ride my cock," he rasps, and like the good girl that I am, I obey his command. I straddle his hips, sinking down on him until I feel myself expand around his huge girth. I move slowly at first, just to tease him and see how long he can restrain himself. I watch as the muscles in his face tense, and a moment later his hands come up and firmly grab my hips, as he lifts me up and starts fucking me from beneath. His grip is tight on me—even if I wanted to move against his thrusts I couldn't—and I smile at the fact that even when he's on the bottom, he's the one in control.
And that's just the way I love it.
His jaw tightens as I feel him start to tense beneath me, and I move my hand around and touch my clit, massaging it as he pumps inside of me, until I feel myself soar into the throes of another orgasm. He sighs as he watches my face slacken in response to the bursts of intense pleasure, and a couple of thrusts later he releases inside of me with a long, drawn-out moan.
We collapse into a warm, sweaty, sticky embrace, and I feel him kissing my face, my neck, my shoulders, and if I only had any energy left, I'd kiss him back. I want to ask him about what happened with Alice, and I want to ask him about his plans for the future. I want to tell him that I love him and I need to be with him forever. But as I lie in the warmth of his arms, and feel his lips worshiping my body, I decide that I'll think about all that awaits us on the fringe of this blissful moment another day.