Fanfiction Based On Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight Series

Rated MA For Mature Adult. Language & Sexual Situations

Safe Haven

By SnowQueens IceDragon

Summary: Edward Cullen is filming his new movie in Las Vegas. His only

solace is Bella, who lives and works in the luxury hotel he is staying. But

is she all she seems EXPLICIT Adult content

~*~

Chapter One

Here I am in another fucking soulless, over-styled, over-priced hotel suite. I place my
hold-all on the bed and hand a twenty-dollar bill to the over anxious, big-toothed PR

prick, who‟s hovering at the doorway.

“I‟ll find my own way around… thanks.” I mumble, by which I mean fuck off - now. The

prick, all bright smiles and warm welcome closes the door and leaves me to it.

Plasmas in all the rooms, bed the size of Texas and fucking flowers everywhere. Yep, I
am back in America, land of the free and home of the rabid teen. This will be my prison
for the next month - well at least the room has a balcony so I can smoke. I open the

doors and the hot air blasts through me. I lick my lips, saliva instantly feeling cooler as
the warm air evaporates the moisture off my face. Fuck it‟s hot. Only the Americans
would have the arrogance to build a fuck-off oasis, a Mecca for gamblers in the middle
of the bloody desert. I peer cautiously over the balcony. No paps… yet. It is mid
afternoon and the sun is blindingly bright. I sit down on the floor of the balcony, pull on
my Raybans, take my fags out from my shirt pocket, light up and start re-reading my
script.

The light begins to fade around 7.00. I glance up. The strip has come to life, all lights
against a backdrop of a fading aquamarine and opal sunset. Oh… I get it now. I watch
transfixed as the sun fades. Fuck it‟s stunning, lit up like Christmas, or Harrods or some
shit like that. A timid knock at the door distracts me from the view. What the fuck now?

“Come-in.”

Fuck - a little girl… well a petite young woman on closer inspection. All nylon suit and
chestnut hair tied back and tucked under some ludicrous cap, staring intently at the
floor. She has clear, translucent, beautiful skin and a slight rosy flush on her cheeks.

She‟s looking anywhere but at me.

“Would you like a turn-down service sir?”

Normally I‟d say fuck-off – well not in so many words to a funny-looking tense young

woman.

“Please.” The word is out before I can stop myself and I watch as she flushes crimson
and walks self-consciously into the bedroom. I follow, drawn - and gaze at her as she
turns down the bed. She takes out a mint from her pocket and places it on the pillow.
Why do they do this? I‟ll have just brushed my teeth when I come to bed – I won‟t want
fucking chocolate. Her small hand reaches into her other pocket. I know what this

means. Not the petals… too many fucking flowers in here already.

“Please… no petals.” I ask.

She looks up at me, finally. Bright, bottomless, brown eyes fearful – as if she‟s
committing some major transgression, long dark lashes fanning across her pale cheeks

as she glances down uncertainly.

“Please.” I say again. Perhaps her English isn‟t very good. She frowns, a small crease
appearing between her brows. What would it be like to kiss that crease? Shit. Where the
fuck had that thought come from? She bites her full pink lower lip. Shit. Something
pulls deep in my guts and then her small pink tongue darts out and licks that lip. Fuck.
Desire… from nowhere, for this funny-looking girl. She nods briefly and heads for the

door. As she passes me, I catch the name badge on her small, pert breast… Christabel.

“Good evening Sir.” And she‟s gone – out of the door.

I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. God I really have to stop doing
that, a nervous habit that has been photographed to fuck for over a year now. Well it‟s
better than picking my nose. Christ I‟m fucking famished. I don‟t want to risk the
restaurant so I look for the room service menu, besides my agent will be up soon. We
have things to discuss – more fucking work no doubt. I am dog-tired and need a rest –
but hey I‟ll only be flavour of the month for a while and have to seize the fucking day. I
think about calling home – but it‟s three in the morning in London and I don‟t think the
aged parents will appreciate a wake up call quite this early. My mobile rings. Where the

fuck is it? My holdall – still on the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Hi Ed – can I come up?”

“Sure Taylor - room 1114.”

I press stop on the phone. What would he have for me now? Yet more scripts no doubt.

Call time for the shoot is 5 am. Fuck that is early. Too fucking early. I pick the chocolate
mint off the pillow recalling the little girl and my weird random reaction to her. Shit –
I‟ve just brushed my teeth. Well maybe for breakfast. I clamber into bed and pick up
one of the scripts that Taylor in his unbounded enthusiasm has left me and begin to

read.

Day one has gone well. The director really knows his shit and what‟s really refreshing is
having the writer on hand for guidance for a change… follow her vision. And of course
there is Tanya. Beautiful, spoilt, sexy, voracious, fucked up Tanya, my leading lady…
we‟d worked together once before, years ago – when we‟d both been struggling actors,
before she started believing her own hype. Now she‟s a scary older lady that I have to be
careful to keep at arms length – I so don‟t want to go there … again. I don‟t need any of

her fucked up shit. What I need is a shower.

I‟ll say one thing for the Yanks… they know plumbing – big time. Best showers on the
planet by far. Whilst washing my hair I marvel that I‟ve managed to evade the rabid
teens both to and from location and I briefly wonder how long that will last. I clamber
out of the shower refreshed and glowing and I hear the timid knocking on the door. Oh

turn-down Babe… hmmm – this should be interesting.

“Come-in” I call.

She enters, shy, retiring, staring at the floor again.

“Would you like a turn-down service Sir?”

She peeks up at me with her dark, dark eyes and I‟m wet and draped in a towel and she

flushes socialist red embarrassing us both.

“Err… please,” I mutter and step back to let her into the bedroom.

She trips over her own feet and falls, but instinctively I catch her. She‟s so light. There‟s
nothing of her. Does she eat? And she smells of flowers and cinnamon or some homely
and comforting shit like that. Thank fuck I tucked in the towel or I‟d be socialist red too.

“Are you okay?” I ask keeping my shit polite.

She gasps and the red quotient increases ten fold.

“Sorry,” she mumbles and she‟s obviously terrified. Christ - am I that scary with no

clothes.

“Hey it‟s okay… you just fell over your own feet.” I give her my best reassuring,
concerned smile as I right her, let go and step back. See no hands. She stares down at
her knotted fingers and mumbles a thank you and an apology and scoots over to the

bed.

“Skittish little thing aren‟t you?” Shit – I‟ve said that out loud.

She glances up for a split second, her dark eyes impossibly wide. She really is seriously
pretty… maybe even beautiful if she‟d just take her hair down and out from under the
hideous cap thing she‟s wearing. She ignores my statement and her small hands quickly
and efficiently turn the bed down – as they must do to all the beds on this floor – and
maybe more floors. I don‟t like that thought for some inexplicable reason. She places a
mint on the pillow and then looks towards me briefly questioningly – though not
directly at me I notice, her flush has diluted to a rosy glow. Yeah, beautiful – and my
attention strays to her name badge again, over her breast. Christabel. A beautiful name

for a fucking beautiful girl.

“Petals?” she asks and her voice is soft, soothing and I can‟t place the accent.

“No thanks.”

“Will that be all?” She asks me nervously, biting her lip - her eyes on the floor again.
Whoa… small white even fucking teeth. Why won‟t she look at me? I realise that she‟s
asking me this because I‟m standing there, naked except for my towel looking at her

expectantly.

“Err… no thanks.” I mutter completely fucking distracted and then she licks her lower
lip again and I‟m gone – desire coursing through me – stronger than yesterday. Fuck –
what is it about her. She looks fucking fragile and vulnerable and I have an
overwhelming urge to protect her… and an overwhelming urge to ask her to stay…

maybe talk for a while. Fuck that.

“Good evening Sir.” She mumbles and then she‟s gone. And I release the breath I‟ve
been holding. Fuck – what the fuck was all that about - some silly little girl… what the

fuck.

~*~

Chapter Two

Day two. What a fucking disaster. Tanya fucking Denali makes an outrageous pass at
me in my trailer… what could I do? She‟s got her tongue in my mouth and her hand
down my trousers… well it just seems rude not too. Not to indulge her little fucked up
fantasies. But fuck she‟s a crazy bitch who likes it rough… much rougher than I like it.
Make-up will have fun covering up the bites and scratches she‟s left on me. I can
envisage the teasing now… The mad bitch is also staying in the hotel – so she‟ll be hard
to avoid. Maybe I should ask to be moved… but then I won‟t see turn-down Babe… ‘So’
my conscience snarls at me… Well – she‟s cute and clean and sweet – and has probably

never jumped on some horny fucking actor who should know better.

And of course the rabid teens have cottoned on somehow to where we‟re all staying.
Fuck but they‟re crazy bitches too and they‟ve flocked downstairs… it‟s all out of bounds
now. The shower washes disastrous day two and Tanya Denali off me and I slowly
unwind. After I‟m dry I pull on my jeans and a clean t-shirt and grab a beer from the

mini-bar.

I am slowly making my way through the room service menu, that means Hamburger
and fries tonight … the meal America has bequeathed the world… fries… Ha – they‟re
called chips where I come from. Oh I miss home. Walking my dog by the Thames –
down to the village… I say village – it‟s really a suburb of London but it has it‟s own
village pond and the best pub on the planet. The Sun Inn…. hmmm Adnams beer – you
just can‟t get it in the States – what I‟d give for a pint.

I hear the timid knock and I smile.

Turn-down Babe is here.

“Come-in.” I put my beer bottle on the side table.

She stands in the doorway and my heart sings some fuck off Italian opera or some shit.
Oh this really is ridiculous. I stand and stare at her before she opens her sweet inviting

mouth.

“Would you like a turn-down service Sir?” she asks in her quiet, exotic unusual accent.
Does she ever deviate from the script? She doesn‟t look at me but stares at her knotted

fingers, a rosy glow on her lovely face.

“Please.” I nod – look at me – I beg inwardly.

But she scurries into the bedroom, pinker than when she came in and she trips
spectacularly again. And I‟m too far away to catch her this time and she bashes her head

on the designer fucking bedside table with sharp edges and shit.

“Christabel… ” I call out in alarm and run to her side as she sinks unceremoniously to
the floor, blood pouring from a gash at her hairline, just above her temple. She gazes up
at me as I kneel down beside her – her big brown eyes dilated and odd… Fuck – is she

OK?

“Hey… easy.” I murmur. I pick her ridiculously light little body up and sit her on the
bed. She puts her hand to her head and brings it down and sees the blood…. Oh no. She
swoons and passes out on my bed. Shit. She‟s bleeding everywhere. Fuck – I run to the
bathroom and pull one of the many unused clean, fluffy as fuck white towels and run it
under the tap. I place it on the gash – holding it fast against her. My Duke of Edinburgh
training comes back to me… the first aid that I‟d been taught at school – Fuck – eons
ago – before all the craziness and the rabid teens and the money and fuck. She‟s fainted.
Her feet need to be higher than her head. I grab the pillows and move her fully on to the
bed and prop the pillows under her feet. She‟s wearing white scuffed trainers. Feet
sorted I return my attention to the awful gash on her head. Head wounds always bleed
like fuck. I remember an injury I had sustained on the set of my last film – bled for
fucking hours, some fucking sign fell on me – much to the hilarity of the crew. I hold

the towel against the wound and the bleeding eases and eventually stops.

And I am blessed with the opportunity to really examine this exquisite beauty on my
fucking bed. Her skin is uber clear, pale as fuck – and not a blemish in sight. She has
delicately arched eyebrows and the longest fucking lashes I‟ve ever seen. Her mouth,
her fucking mouth, Christ – she has full pale pink lips, the lower slightly bigger than the
upper – and a perfect little button nose. She looks so relaxed – so unlike her usual
waking nervous state. As I kneel beside the bed I gently pull the hideous cap off her
head… after all that can‟t be comfortable shit to be lying on – and her hair is a rich
chestnut brown – shiny as fuck. She is fucking stunning. Her eye-lashes flutter – and I
realise my disgusting voyeurism has lasted for about thirty seconds… long enough to
realise, that I‟d like to know her so much better. She opens her deep brown eyes and

gazes up at me – and smiles. A heart-stoppingly, fuck off, full beam, all teeth showing

smile. Fuck – she‟s not stunning – she‟s fucking gorgeous.

I gasp and then her eyes widen as she becomes aware of her surroundings and panic

sets in. She tries to get up terror filling her face.

“No – you‟ve fainted. You need to relax. Lie down. Breathe deeply.” I plead with her and

I gently push her back down onto the bed.

“Lie still… please.”

“I‟m so sorry,” she mumbles. “I am so clumsy.”

“Hey… don‟t panic… breathe.” Dr fucking Cullen here… ha - like my Dad. Should I call
him? He could advise. But again it‟s like three in the morning in London – he‟d be
fucked off if I called him now. She blinks rapidly and starts with this breathy panting
shit – and in any other situation I „d think she was excited – but she‟s just fucking

terrified. This annoys the fuck out of me.

“Please… relax. Breathe slow. Breathe with me. In out, In out…” and I start this fucking
mantra and very slowly as she follows my instruction some of that luscious pink returns
to her cheeks and she stops with the fucking panic. She doesn‟t take her big, beautiful,

fathomless brown eyes off mine. Whoa… a man could get so lost in them…. fucking A….

“I think I‟m okay now,” she says softly in that unidentifiable accent of hers.

“Let me help you up.” I say, knowing full well that this is an excuse to put my hands on
her – touch her. I slide my arm under her shoulder – which brings my face very close to
her hair… fuck she smells so good, and I gently pull her up. I grasp her legs at the knees

and pull them back onto the floor so she‟s sitting on the bed – feet on the floor.

“How does that feel?” I ask gently.

“Okay,” she replies timidly. “Thank you.”

I sit back on my heels, still on my knees.

“You really are the clumsiest girl I‟ve ever met.”

She flushes.

“I‟m so sorry,” she swallows and stares down at her knotted fingers, and I‟m suddenly

terrified that she‟s going to fucking cry.

“Hey – I‟m just teasing you. I‟m sorry.” And before I can stop myself I‟ve swept my
fingers down her face to beneath her chin and pulled her face up so that she‟s looking at
me – eyes wide. “Honestly. I‟m just teasing.” And I‟m reeling. Her fucking skin is so
petal fucking soft beneath my fingers and I‟m trying to think of ways of detaining her

for longer.

“Would you like a glass of water?” I ask softly.

Her eyes dart nervously round the room.

“Please,” she whispers.

Yes! I get to keep her here for a few more minutes. I rise, feeling slightly giddy, in a
schoolboy fucking crush kind of way, and stride to the mini-bar in the other room and
bring her back a bottle of mineral water and a glass.

“Tap water is fine,” she blurts out alarmed and I realise she‟s concerned at the expense.

“Hey – don‟t sweat it… I can afford this.” And I want to laugh at her ridiculous fear. The
fucking production company are paying for this room and whatever I consume – and
they won‟t give a fuck about a bottle of fucking water. But then she wouldn‟t have any
idea about that shit. She takes a sip – and her eyes are watching me intently. Well at

least she‟s looking at me now.

“My name‟s Edward.” I decide a formal introduction is in order.

“I know who you are…” she whispers. “Doesn‟t everybody?” And I get the feeling that
she now wants to laugh at me as her eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. Well tit for

fucking tat.

“And you are Christabel…” I murmur.

“Bella,” she corrects me.

“How do you do Bella?” I hold out my hand and very tentatively she clasps it in her
small right hand and shakes it very gently.

“Very pleased to meet you, Mr Cullen,” she says softly. “I‟m so sorry for inconveniencing

you.”

“No inconvenience at all.” I reply – completely fucking smitten. She lets go of my hand

and to my bitter disappointment it‟s obvious she wants to leave.

“Hang on.” I stand up and hold out my hands to her. “Here let me help you up?” And
again I get an opportunity to touch this exquisite creature as she places both of her
hands in mine and I pull her gently to her feet. I hold her fractionally too long – as I

ascertain if she can stand – of course. But all too soon I have to let go.

She looks down at her hands.

“I‟m really sorry,” she says again.

“Hey – stop with the apologising please.” I beg her.

“Will you…. will you say anything?” She whispers and it takes me a beat to realise what

she‟s insinuating.

“I won‟t say a word – please don‟t worry.” I say frowning, concerned that she might
think I would report her or some shit. Is she scared about her job? Fuck – how fucking
awful is that… She lets out the deep breath she‟s been holding and I am once more

treated to her delectable smile. Though it‟s only fleeting, my heart skips a fucking beat.

“Well – sorry again.” she mumbles and she moves carefully out of the room.

“Tomorrow?” I ask – panic setting in.

She nods – and then she‟s out of the door, leaving me standing – alone as ever – in this

fuck off, lonely as fuck penthouse suite.

~*~

Chapter Three

Day three is disastrous day two. The fucking director has gone ape shit about the bite
marks that crazy bitch Denali has left all over my fucking neck. What‟s more the make-
up department get it in the neck too… and he‟s a mean son-of-a-bitch when things
aren‟t going his way. Two women in tears. And I have to endure a gut wrenchingly
embarrassing fucking lecture from the twelve-year-old producer about keeping my dick
in my pants – it‟s fucking trousers where I come from matey. I resolve to keep the crazy
bitch away from me. She sees this as a challenge but she has the sense to stay away. I
think the producer reads the riot act to her too. But it‟s all steamy looks, sly touches and
fucking whispers all day on set. Fuck it‟s tiring and boring and I am beyond happy, once
I‟ve made it through the rabid teens and I return to my lonely haven… And deep down –

I know it‟s because I‟ll see the sweet, delectable, little Bella.

I‟m showered, fragrant, ready and waiting for her timid knock. I contemplate hitting the
elaborate fuck off sound system – some smooth jazz or shit for when she arrives… no

too fucking cheesy – even for you Cullen.

And I wait. I get a beer. I wait. I get another beer. I switch on the TV – so many fucking
channels and nothing fucking on – fuck it‟s nine pm and then I hear the timid knock.

Relief floods through me.

“Come-in.” I leap up off the couch… my heart in my mouth.

And in she comes, head down, shy as fuck. But there‟s something different about her

today. Something wrong.

“Would you like a turn-down service Sir?” She can barely get the words out, she‟s all
choked up. Shit!

“What‟s wrong?” I ask and she quickly peeks up at me and her eyes are red rimmed.
She‟s been crying, and I can see what‟s wrong, she looks slightly dishevelled, like
someone‟s roughed her up or some shit.

“Bella… what is it?” She backs up against the wall staring at her hands and I can see that
she‟s trying desperately hard not to cry. I feel completely fucking helpless as I cautiously

walk towards her.

“Would you like a turn-down service Sir?” She says again sticking to the script and it‟s
breaking my heart because she‟s really fucking upset about something. She‟s flat against
the wall and I‟m standing in front of her. I reach down and sweep my index finger down
her cheek and under her chin relishing the feel of her soft skin and tilt her head up so
she has to look at me.

“What‟s happened?” I breathe.

Her eyes are wide, red-rimmed and her lips look red and swollen. She shakes her head

trying to lose my finger under her chin.

“Tell me.” I growl, my eyes burning into hers, and they widen even more.

“Next door,” she whispers. “The man…”

And that‟s all I need to hear. Some dirty bastard has put his hands on my turn-down
Babe.

“Which way?” I ask softly through clenched teeth.

She shakes her head again and shrugs pathetically.

“Which way?” Adrenaline has kicked in – and I want to fight. I want to rip the fuckers

head off.

“Please,” she begs.

“So help me Bella, tell me which way.”

She shakes her head and stays stubbornly mute.

“Stay here.” I command and I grab the key-card and I‟m out of the door along the
corridor to the next room. I knock. There‟s no answer. I turn round and head to the
other adjacent room. I knock. A middle-aged bloke with very little hair, a pale saggy
paunch acquired no doubt from some serious beer drinking in his youth, opens the

door. He‟s dressed only in a towel.

“I‟m sorry to bother you but have you had the turn-down service this evening, I‟m in a

couple of rooms along from you.”

He grins and I know it‟s him.

“Look forward to seeing her every night,” he leers. “Little whore‟s just been.” He looks

cocky, triumphant - the fucker, and he winks at me.

Before I‟ve taken another breath, I‟ve fucking slugged him and he‟s laid out on the floor
holding his spouting ugly nose. Eyes wide with fear.

“You touch her again and I‟ll fucking kill you, cocksucker. And if you mention this to
any motherfucker I will find you and I will stamp on your fucking throat and then do
you some serious harm – you got me big guy?” And I loom over him and tread very hard
on his bollocks. He recoils in pain.

“You‟re that guy… the actor dude.” Thank fuck for my image – all polite and well-

mannered.

“No one will believe you… do I make myself clear.” I press harder with my foot.

“Yes… yes.” he pleads and I step back and gently close his door.

She‟s stood exactly where I left her, all panicky and pale against the wall. I shut the door

behind me and stare at her.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask softly and she looks appalled.

“No… you‟re a guest here.” She says by way of explanation.

And what I want to do is wrap her in my arms and kiss the memory of evil fat fucker off
her lips. But I can‟t touch her, can‟t comfort her – because that would make me like

him.

“Your hand…” she murmurs and I glance down at my right hand and the knuckles are
red, from fat fucker‟s face. I flex my fingers instinctively and yeah they fucking hurt but
I hadn‟t noticed until she drew my attention to it. She reaches for my hand, and I have
to stifle a groan as her small hand folds around it. Oh shit… She pulls me gently over to
where the mini bar fridge is situated. She opens the fridge and pulls out the ice bucket
and pours ice onto the small towel that sits over the wine cooler above on the bar. She
lets go of me and scrunches up the towel, then clasps my hand again and softly places
the towel, with ice over my knuckles. The throbbing eases immediately. She‟s intent on
her task, concentrating, the small crease appearing between her brows. The crease I
want to kiss. Her dark lashes are fanned across her pale cheeks and I can see the small
scar at her hairline where she bashed her head yesterday. I want to kiss that too. I want
to kiss every inch of her body. My breathing is shallow, I am almost panting. Her
proximity is intoxicating. Shit she‟s so fucking desirable and she has no idea, no idea of
the effect she‟s having on me. She gazes up at me and she smiles slightly – and I‟m sure

I can hear angels singing in heaven or some shit.

“Thank you.” I murmur and before I can stop myself I run the back of my left hand
down her cheek. She flushes slightly and a rosy glow spreads across her face. She takes
the ice pack off my fingers and in a really fuck-off bold move pulls my hand to her sweet
seductive mouth and she kisses each knuckle softly. I stop breathing. She glances up at
me, her eyes impossibly dark, and her breath hitches in her throat. I pull my hand out

of hers and run my thumb across her plump, pouty bottom lip.

“You are so beautiful,” I whisper. I lean down stopping an inch from her mouth, making
my intention as clear as I can. I am not the evil fucker from next door. I pause for a beat
to give her the chance to push me away. Her lips part and her small pink tongue darts
nervously to her lower lip and moistens it with the tip. The muscles in the base of my
gut contract and I can smell the sweet fragrance of her breath as she gasps and lifts her
head slightly – an invitation – her eyes on my mouth. I lower my head and my lips
touch hers – a brief, sweet kiss. What I want is to crush her to me, peel her out of the
nylon shit she‟s wearing, get rid of the fuck awful cap on her head, pick her up and take
her to bed. I pull back to gauge her reaction. Her eyes are closed and her breathing‟s all
fast and shallow. Enough Cullen - my fucking conscience kicks in. You will not be able
to stop if you kiss her again. Your dick is bursting out of your trousers already and she‟s
just been roughed up by the fucker next door. But I burn for her, I groan inwardly,

trying to reason with that still small fucking voice in my head.

She opens her eyes and flushes. Like she‟s back to Earth with a hideous crash. She

quickly gazes down at her hands, confusion on her brow. Shit – what’s this?

“I‟m sorry,” she murmurs and she looks totally mortified. What the fuck?

“Why?”

She shrugs slightly and I can see her folding in on herself. Did she want more? Is this
what this is? I reach down and lift her chin so that she has to look at me. I see hurt and
anguish in her beautiful brown eyes.

“Bella I can‟t – you‟ve just been roughed up by the pervert next door – I‟d be taking

advantage of you. I really want to make love to you – but you‟re also still working.”

And that‟s like a wake-up call…

“Oh – turn-down.” She squeals – like she‟s forgotten all about it and she ducks round
me and scurries into my bedroom and quickly turns down the bed, leaving a mint on

the pillow.

“No petals?” She asks breathlessly.

“No petals.” I smile and I want to laugh at how flushed and comical she looks. “Will I

see you tomorrow?” She nods, smiling shyly at me and then moves past me to the door.

“Goodnight Mr Cullen,” she breathes.

“Edward… Call me Edward, please. Goodnight Bella. Sweet dreams.” And she‟s gone.

Wow… I feel like I‟m fourteen again. Shit I‟ll need another shower to deal with the eager
fucker between my legs. Fuck – I haven‟t felt this turned on in years. Well months
maybe… and she kissed me first - I marvel. I examine my knuckles wanting to see the
imprint of her lips on them. I order room service and then go and have a shower to

relieve myself.

~*~

Chapter Four

Day four is long. We are shooting a particularly wordy as fuck scene between the
delectable crazy Denali and me. And I‟m polite, I‟m reasonable and happy to do all the
reverses for her – but for some screwed reason she doesn‟t want to do mine. Crazy
bitch. I think it‟s her way of getting back at me since I‟ve shown no interest since the

rough shagging she subjected us to earlier this week. Fine – I‟ll do it with the pretty
stand-in Angela – who has dark eyes and dark chestnut hair and is reminiscent of the
lovely Bella, but only just. She‟s a pale imitation of the real thing. Christ I can’t get that
girl out of my head. Chris the director is over-the-moon thrilled with my reverses…
thanks to Angela. But it‟s Bella I think about all day. How the fuck is she? Will I see her

tonight?

I am pacing. It‟s eight pm… she normally comes around now. Room service comes and
goes with steak and béarnaise fucking sauce. Still no Bella. It‟s nine-thirty. Perhaps that
fucker from next door has got her in his evil clutches. Shit – should I go next door and
check? Time moves on – and I‟m pacing, wearing a fucking groove in the shag pile on
the floor. I have to be up at five – and I can‟t get into my bed because the sodding covers

are still on it.

I hear her timid knock and I run to the door and open it wide. She‟s stood in the
hallway, smiling a bashful half smile and my face splits in half as I grin a wholly un-

Cullen toothy grin back at her. Get a fucking grip.

“Would you like a turn-down service Sir?”

“Yes please.” I can be formal too.

I step aside and in she comes and for some reason, as she steps across the threshold,
and I catch her delicious floral fragrance I am filled with nerves. The kind of stage fright
I‟ve not experienced for at least two years – before all the fucking madness started. She
wanders into my bedroom and smoothly turns down the bed. I smile as I watch her,

she‟s managed not to trip…

She places my mint on my pillow… and turns to stare at me. Big brown eyes full of

fucking questions.

“No petals…?” she asks – but it‟s like she‟s asking me something else. Shit – girlspeak.

What the fuck? Does she want me to jump on her, what?

“No thanks,” I reply hoping this is the right answer… because I really don‟t want any

petals on my bed… just her.

“How is your hand?” Her soft lilting voice asks me… her first direct question off script.
We‟re improvising now and she hasn‟t taken her eyes off me for at least thirty seconds. I

glance at my fingers unthinking, breaking the precious eye contact.

“Better thanks.” And I glance back at her and she‟s still fucking looking.

“He has gone. Checked out.” I have to pause for a moment to work out what the fuck
she‟s referring to – and then I realise, ugly evil fuck next door. Well at least I won‟t have

to worry about that shit any more.

“Good.” I nod and then I‟m at a loss what to say. She‟s making no move to go, staring at

me, all expectant. “Can you stay for a bit?”

“I left your room until last,” she whispers and flushes her all telling shade of crimson.

Bloody hell… she doesn’t have to rush off.

“Would you like a drink?” Smooth Cullen.

She frowns.

“I am not supposed to…”

“I won‟t tell.” Christ I‟m back in primary school, but she smiles shyly at me.

“Yes please,” she murmurs.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“What would you like?”

“Water… will be fine.”

“Come on Bella, you can do better than that. Beer, wine, spirits, champagne… my mini-
bar is at your disposal.” Somehow I‟ve made that sound far more fucking dirty than I

meant to… lascivious prick - I castigate myself.

“A beer,” she says. “I have gum.” Well that‟s thrown me. “For the smell,” she adds,
observing the incomprehension that flashes briefly over my face. And I get it… she can‟t

be caught drinking with the guests.

I take two beers from the mini bar, open both and hand one to her.

“Would you like a glass?” See I‟m not a complete fucking animal.

“This is fine.” She smiles accepting the bottle from me. Our fingers brush briefly in the

hand-over and I feel it all the way to the end of my dick.

“Shall we sit?” I motion to the large L shaped sofa and she walks shyly past me and she
sits, perched on the edge, all uptight and reticent. Fuck she‟s adorable in spite of the

shitty cap affair she‟s wearing. I sit down and sprawl out trying to get as close to her as

possible without being fucking obvious.

“Where are you from?” I ask. “I can‟t place your accent.”

“I grew up in the South. Near New Orleans.” But she looks uncertain, like she‟s hiding

some shit.

“Do you live locally?”

“I live here in the hotel.”

“Not far to go home then?” I grin – this just gets better and better.

“Have you worked here long?” And can I please make love to you now?

“No – only a couple of months. How is the film going?” Her dark eyes flash at me and
instinctively I know she‟s trying to deflect any questions from her… interesting. Most
girls just want to talk about their own shit. I learned a long time ago that the key to

getting laid was just to sit back and listen.

“It‟s OK…” What can I say? As long as I stay out of Denali‟s clutches it‟s fine.

She smiles politely and I‟m losing her. She shifts uncomfortably. Oh shit… she‟ll get up
and go if you don‟t do something Cullen. Where‟s your fucking charm offensive

disappeared to?

“It must be very strange to have all those girls screaming at you.” Fuck me… Little Miss

Mob Cap has seized the initiative.

“It is… scary actually. I‟m sure individually they‟re all lovely, but together, the mob

mentality.” I shudder. “It really freaks me out.”

“Like the sans-culottes,” she says. And I think my mouth drops open. An American who

knows their European history. Shit… I didn‟t know they existed.

“Yes.” I grin, relaxing… “Exactly like the sans-culottes.” I laugh and I start regaling her
about my near misses with the rabid teens, and their crazier fucking mothers. She
laughs at this expression and it‟s such a joy to hear. I tell her all the lengths I‟ve had to
resort to in order to avoid these mad women - who run after me, pulling at my clothing

and my hair, and her big beautiful eyes grow wider and wider as I spin my tale of woe.

“So it‟s impossible to go out now without a brace of security with me. It kind of gets to
you after a while. I look at this room and it‟s my safe haven and my prison too – and it‟s

the same wherever I go. Except at home. It‟s not so bad in London. I just don‟t get home
very often that‟s all.” Shut the fuck up Cullen – stop whining. You‟re paid a fucking
fortune…. already you never have to work another day if you choose too… for fucks

sake.

“It must be very oppressive,” she says kindly. Fuck – pity now…this is not going well.

Stop spilling your fucking guts.

“Must be cool to live here though?” I ask, desperate to move the conversation back to

her. She‟s giving nothing away and I move surreptitiously closer to her.

“Oh… I think of it as prison too.” She answers evasively, and there‟s a sadness in her

eyes. “I‟d better go. You must be tired.”

“Do you have to?” I ask – Ooh needy Cullen… too needy, but I reach across and gently

stroke her cheek with the back of my finger.

She looks across at me, and my heart fucking stops, her big brown eyes are dark and
unreadable, her breathing hitches and her lips part to accommodate her intake of air. I

reach over and take the beer bottle out of her hand.

“I‟d really like you to stay.” I say in my softest most seductive voice. Please, please

spend the night with me…

I hear her sudden gasp and watch the slow rosy flush spread across her cheeks. She
stares down at her knotted fingers and I can see the internal struggle that she‟s having…
shit – finally - I can read her like a book. Do I want her to be this stressed? I place my
fingers under her chin and bring her face up to look at me. Fuck, she‟s beautiful. Big
brown apprehensive eyes, lips parted, that rosy glow. I want to be buried deep inside
her. I lean forward slowly, giving her the opportunity to tell me to fuck off if she wants
to… but that sudden gasp and the flaring in her eyes – and I know this kiss is mine. I
bring my lips down on hers, harder than yesterday, but still soft and gentle, and my

hand reaches round and grasps her at the nape of her neck.

She‟s hesitant at first and then she kind of relaxes into it… soft and sweet, malleable in
my hands and her lips move against mine cautiously. Fuck… she is so arousing. I
deepen the kiss and stroke my tongue against that big, pouty bottom lip of hers and she
gasps and I‟m in… in her fucking delicious mouth, and my tongue is exploring… she
tastes better than she looks. Fuck I want to take her to bed… now. She brings her hands
up and tentatively slides them up my chest. Oh the feel of her small hands on me. She
brings them up to my neck and knots them in my hair… oh my… and her tongue meets
mine. Holy Fuck… My breathing is ragged, my heart is going to explode, blood rushing
to a very significant and cherished part of my body. Fuck… this is going to get out of

hand real quick. You are seducing the staff… Cullen. Oh Fuck off – I groan inwardly as

my conscience surfaces at a most unwelcome and inconvenient time.

I pull back. Her eyes are closed, she‟s panting, she‟s flushed… she‟s mine.

There‟s a knock at the door. Shit. Who the fuck is that? Bella‟s eyes fly open and she

stands up, all panicky, gloriously flushed and scared.

“Hey chill… I‟ll get rid of them.”

“Who is it? I call without bothering to get up.

“Edward darling it‟s me.” Shit – Denali… Now… Fuck.

Bella‟s eyes move from me to the door and back to me. Her eyes wide, accusatory… and
fuck me - hurt. I am a condemned man. I watch her completely fucking helpless. She
seems to gather herself together, girding her fucking metaphorical loins and she goes to

the door, opens it and says.

“Will that be all Sir?”

Denali barges in past her, not even noticing that she‟s standing there all scrunched up

and fucking aching.

And like the shit I am… I say nothing, and she closes the door as she leaves.

~*~

Chapter Five

“Tanya… what a surprise – what are you doing here?” as if I didn’t know… Fuck. Shit…
why didn’t you say anything prick? Tanya‟s big almond-coloured eyes half close,
distracting me from my Bella dilemma, and she swings her lush hips as she sashays

towards me in the slinky black wrap creation that‟s almost draped around her.

“Edward… I thought you might be lonely,” she purrs and tosses her strawberry blonde
curls behind her. I am, but not for you… How the fuck did you get my room number?

Fuck… Bella….

“Tanya… it‟s late.” Fucking feeble Cullen.

“Ooh… Edward,” she whines, all curves and cleavage and she actually fucking pouts at

me, like a little teen vixen.

I have to be assertive, yet diplo-fucking-matic. Come on Cullen – man up. I gently grab

her upper arm and guide her to the door.

“Darling – we both have to get up early tomorrow – so perhaps this is not the best time.
We have a big scene tomorrow, which I am really looking forward to filming but I want

to be fresh as a daisy when we do it… Let me walk you back to your room.”

“Oh Edward, you‟re so sweet, so considerate. But right now I have an itch that really

needs scratching…”

Scratching is the operative word in that sentence and I so don‟t want to endure a bout of
Tanya‟s warped idea of love again. I‟ve barely fucking healed since last time. Hmmm…
my dick twitches… you could always restrain her… keep those nails out of the firing
line… but an image of the injured sorrow on Bella‟s face surfaces, unwelcome and

unbidden, into my mind. Shit…

“Baby, let‟s take a rain check on that idea. Last time you came anywhere near me we
both had a lecture from the producer, the director threw his toys out of his pram and
members of the crew were reduced to tears. Let‟s go.” I open the door and point the

way. Please, please fucking leave.

“So this is a rain check.”

“Hmmm…” I mumble as non-committal as possible as I follow her out of the door.

We don‟t talk on the way back to her room. She‟s on the same fucking floor as me, ten
rooms along… I count them dreading how near she is to my safe haven. Outside her
room she turns to face me, and turns her beautiful face up towards me. Oh shit… She
wants a fucking goodnight kiss… well I‟ll have my tongue in her mouth most of
tomorrow, and they‟ll be at least 40 people on set to witness, just think of this as
rehearsal. And like the puerile fucking child I am, I cross my fingers behind my back
and kiss her, briefly, no tongues. But it doesn‟t matter because it doesn‟t count if you

cross your fingers… does it. Grow up Cullen.

I walk back to my room mired in my own self-disgust. You are a fucking coward Cullen,

and deep down I‟m worried that I‟ve blown all chances with sweet, little, evasive Bella…

Day five zips along and I spend most of it naked, in bed, with Denali. Sex scenes… it’s a
tough job but someone’s got to do it… I fervently wish someone was doing Denali –
then perhaps she could fucking compose herself and stop getting carried away,
embarrassing the shit out of me and the crew. Actually I think the crew love it from the
various snickers and coughs I‟m hearing. She‟s acting all coquettishly, dropping the
sheets at inopportune moments… honestly I think this woman is a fucking

exhibitionist… she’s an actor - like you Cullen… of course she’s a fucking exhibitionist.

Trying to concentrate on second-guessing the crazy bitch does not leave me much
headspace to think about beautiful Bella. Throughout the day, her wide hurt eyes haunt
me. Shit – I‟ll have to do some serious fucking grovelling tonight to get us back on track.
Maybe I should buy her flowers. Girls love that shit don‟t they…? I ask my sweet little
PA to find the numbers of some local florists. Suppose Bella just refuses to service the

room? Perhaps I'll never see her again... Fuck, what will I do then?

By the time I‟m showered, ready and waiting for her I am wound up like a fucking
clockwork toy. Knowing that I have a day off the following day does not help… I‟d
normally get quite trashed and watch some shit on the TV. But not tonight. I keep
disappearing on the balcony to smoke, enduring the hot dry heat of the desert. Fuck it‟s
hot here… and then I hear it, the timid fucking knock that is my lifeline to this beautiful

girl.

“Come in” I shout and my voice must be two octaves higher than normal… Fuck - stop
sounding like a fucking girl Cullen. And she‟s standing before me, socialist red again

and looking anywhere but at me. Shit… we have regressed, back to scene one.

“Would you like…”

I interrupt her.

“Please, Bella, she didn‟t stay.” I blurt out – like I‟m in a confessional and I‟m looking to
her for absolution. I hear her breath hitch and she‟s staring at her fingers as she‟s busy

as fuck knotting them in front of her.

“Would you like a turn-down…”

“No…” I shout and then I‟m in front of her grabbing both of her arms just below her
shoulders and lifting her slightly. She‟s too light… “Please look at me.” I plead. And I
watch as she withdraws, flinching away from me, all colour draining from her small
heart-shaped face. It‟s fucking sobering watching her recoil when I touch her. I release
her immediately and step back, my hands up, like she‟s the police and I‟m the shit out of

luck defendant.

“Bella, I didn‟t know Tanya would show up here. How she found my room number…? I
just don‟t know. Please believe me… I‟m sorry.” My voice is reduced to a raw whisper as
I stare down at this beautiful girl and anxiously await her response. She kind of deflates
in front of me, like her resolve is slipping away from her or some shit… giving me

hope... is this good?

“Mr Cullen…” Oh - that‟s not good.

“It‟s Edward, my name is Edward,” I interrupt her again, and I‟m beginning to sound

desperate. For fucks sake – get a grip.

“I think it‟s probably best if we keep our interaction on a professional level only.” She

continues. NO NO NO…. this is not what I want to hear.

“Bella… please. You are the only normal person I know in Las Vegas. The only American
I‟ve met who knows something about French history… Please, don‟t give up on me yet. I
bought you some flowers…” My secret weapon… would it be enough? I reach behind me
and grab the dozen long stemmed white roses – offering them to her. Her head shoots
up to me, and I‟ve got her fucking attention. Dark, wide, surprised as fuck eyes gaze at

me.

“You bought me flowers?” Her voice is all breathy with disbelief.

YES… chicks dig flowers! And inside I am dancing. I know that this fucked up situation

is salvageable. I nod. Serious as fuck… don‟t want to blow this audition now.

“They‟re beautiful.” She murmurs, the breathiness continues and it‟s sexy as hell.

“Like you.” I say holding my breath.

The slow rosy glow returns to her cheeks. She bites briefly on her plump lower lip and
her little pink tongue follows, leaving it moist and glistening - it‟s a siren call – right
down to the pit of my belly. I reach out and take the flowers from her hands and put
them on the console table behind me and I step towards her so that she steps back and
she‟s up against the wall. Very deliberately, not taking my eyes off of hers, I run the
backs of my fingers down her cheek and round her chin, leaving my thumb on one side
of her face and my index finger on the other, gently cupping her chin. I tip her head up
and I lower my mouth to hers. A low moan groan escapes my throat, from relief initially

but also because she tastes as fucking good as she did yesterday

Her hands are on my arms, just above my elbows and for some horrible moment I think
she‟s going to push me away, but her fingers flex, and move up towards my shoulders,
clutching me tightly as my tongue makes its way into her mouth. Desire pools in my
favourite organ and I want to take her, now, against this wall… stake my claim on this
beautiful girl… but I can‟t - I‟m not a fucking Neanderthal… well I am – but I‟m doing

my best to smother the fucker.

She pulls back breathing rapidly and I bend down further, kissing her below her ear.
She smells of soap and shampoo and she‟s wearing little gold sleepers that I want to
suck gently and twist with my tongue, but I head down her throat trailing kisses all the
way. I have one hand on the side of her face and the other sliding down her arm, down

her waist and coming to rest on her hip. Shit she‟s so small and slight… but so fucking

arousing.

I lean into her… feeling her against the length of my body trying hard not to give into

my desire and push my hips into her.

A knock at the door interrupts us. Shit - not that crazy bitch again.

I lean back fractionally and watch as horror hijacks her lovely face but I shake my head
rapidly and place my index finger against my lips and then over hers. The knock sounds
again and we are staring into each others eyes… saying nothing, flattened against each
other, trying hard not to breathe too loud, but we‟re both panting, quick sharp shallow
gasps of air, our breathe mingling… and it has to be one of the most erotic moments I
can remember… raring to go… but the risk of discovery holding us back…not able to
move. My desire is obvious as my erection is pressed against her belly. I lean forward

and whisper in her ear.

“I think whoever it is has gone.”

And she blinks up at me, all long lashes and rosy glow again and sharp intake of air…

“I need to finish,” she says suddenly, panicking… and I wonder what she means… “The

rest of the turn-down service.”

Shit… she‟s not left me till last this time. I step back and release her, my whole body
protesting at the loss of contact, knowing that only another fucking shower will bring

me any peace.

“Will you come back later? I‟m not working tomorrow…” I leave that hanging between

us.

She squirms slightly,

“I can‟t come back, not tonight,” she stares down at her fingers evasively. “And I‟m not
working tomorrow… so I shan‟t be servicing the room at all tomorrow…” Shit – this is

fucking unacceptable…

“So if you‟re not working – you have a day off?” Hope blooms in my chest at the
possibilities this presents. She nods shyly – fuck she‟s adorable… “So what do you do on

your days off?” She shrugs slightly, embarrassed.

“Explore the city, visit the library, read. Not much really…”

“Will you spend the day with me?” Way to go Cullen…

She gasps and numerous emotions fly across her face, too many and too complex to
absorb… but the one that remains, the smile that settles on her face – and I know she

fucking loves the idea…

“Okay…” she smiles and I‟m completely dazzled.

“Until tomorrow then… Here don‟t forget your flowers….” I hand the roses back to her

and open the door.. “Just knock… anytime.”

“Thank you for the flowers,” she murmurs, still shy.

“You‟re most welcome. Good night Bella.”

“Good night … Edward.” My name rolls off her tongue and I can‟t believe how sweet it

sounds as she brushes past me and heads out of the door.

Shit… time for another shower and I get to have Turn-Down babe all to myself

tomorrow… fuck me… things are looking up.

~*~

Chapter Six

I am fucking excited. Like a small bloody boy… I‟m pacing, waiting… a whole day with
Bella. I‟ve had breakfast, I‟ve showered, I‟ve washed my hair, chosen my cleanest T-
shirt – I‟ve even bloody shaved and I NEVER do that on a day off. Hopefully I‟d make it
past… what did the Yanks call it… second base – fuck home bloody run is what I want….
oh stop with fucking sports metaphors Cullen you know they bore the arse off you.

I hear her timid knock, but I peek through the spy hole to check it‟s her – don‟t want to
be opening the door to Denali … not today. It‟s her, and she‟s standing in the hall all

self-conscious and shit…

I open the door.

“Good morning Bella,” and my voice is fucking dark and husky as I stare at her. She‟s in
jeans that enhance her slender figure and shapely legs and a tight dark green hoodie
that she has zipped to her sternum. She may be slim but she‟s all soft curves too… and
her hair is loose around her shoulders and down her back. Fuck it‟s long and shiny –
and I want to run my fingers through it. She looks lovely, but… young… really fucking
young without the uniform and ugly cap. Her dark eyes are warm, but anxious as she
bites her pouty lower lip… oh shit, I want to bite it too.

And I realise I‟ve been standing there staring at her like the moron I am for a beat too

long.

“Come in.” I step aside and she sidles in past me. She‟s carrying a fuck off cooler bag, a

plastic bag full of some shit and a blanket. What the fuck is all this?

“Hi,” she says and she stands awkwardly by the console table. She flushes her delicious
shade of pink, steels herself and says, “I thought you might like to go out today.” There

she is again, seizing the fucking initiative.

I frown… fuck. “I‟m not sure that‟s a good idea, you know the rabid teens. It‟s really

hard to sneak past them.”

“I think I could get you out of the hotel and no one would notice. You sounded so sad
the other night when you said this place was like a prison…” She pulls out a large green
boiler suit and hat - they are usually worn by the maintenance crew I‟ve seen on the odd
occasion around the hotel. “We can use the service elevators and I have a car in the
underground garage.” And she looks all hopeful and wide-eyed and shit. “No one will
recognize you dressed in this… I‟ve brought a picnic.” Fuck it. She‟s full of ideas. Who
am I to disappoint? The teens have probably decamped to where the crew are shooting

today… there shouldn‟t be too many downstairs.

“Okay… let‟s give it a go.” I haven‟t been out for a picnic for fucking eons. As I scramble
into the overalls I try and remember... the last picnic. It was with my folks, we‟d gone to
Kenwood House in North London to see some classical shit that my Dad liked… we‟d all
got so drunk, even my mother… I smile at the memory. I glance at myself in the
mirror… fuck me Cullen, you look like one of those handymen from some cheap porno

shit. I’ve come to repair your plumbing madam…

“How do I look?”

Bella smirks at me. “Authentic.”

I grab my phone, my sunglasses and the key card and take the cooler bag off her.

“Let‟s go.” I murmur.

She takes my hand, all fucking assertive and leads me down the corridor to a set of
double doors I‟ve not noticed before. Behind them are the service lifts. We step through
and she presses the button to summon the lift. We stand in silence, waiting. She‟s
looking intently at the lift doors and I‟m looking intently at her. She‟s not let go of my
hand… The lift arrives with a loud ping and she glances up at me and smiles and I swear
to God my whole body tightens in response to her lovely, fuck-off, dazzling smile. I grin

back at her like a buffoon and follow her into the lift.

The lift whisks us down to the underground car-park and as the door opens I feel the
first wave of anxiety deep in the pit of my stomach. Paps and rabid teens – are they
here? The car park is the size of Miami and looks mostly deserted… we could be in luck.
We walk for several minutes until she finally pulls some keys out of her jeans pocket
and points the remote at a smart black Audi 4x4 with dark privacy glass and it beeps as

it unlocks.

“Wow… this is yours?” I‟m slightly taken aback… how can she afford something as
sprauncy as this on her salary? A ghost of a smile crosses her face as if she‟s been

expecting me to say this.

“Yes it‟s mine,” she says simply and doesn‟t elaborate. “Do you want to drive?” She

holds up the keys for me.

“No thanks. Everyone drives on the wrong side of the road here… it kind of freaks me
out.” She loads the blanket and the cool bag in the boot and presses some button on the
boot lid and it closes automatically. It‟s really bloody funky. I climb into the passenger
side and stare at all the buttons and gizmos she has at her disposal, fucking buttons
everywhere. She starts the engine, the on-board computer wishes us a good day and the

sat nav window appears.

“Where are we going?” I ask curious.

“It‟s a surprise,” she says and she eases the car into drive and off we go. We‟ve made it

out of the hotel, no teens, no paps… she‟s right. She‟s got me out in one piece.

I‟ve not really seen Las Vegas by day, I‟m normally dog-tired in the morning or it‟s dark

– it‟s good to see in the bright mid morning sunshine.

“Would you like to listen to some music?” she asks shyly.

“Sure,” I sling the green cap that‟s part of my disguise onto the back seat.

Bach‟s cello suite fills the car. It‟s the prelude in C, I know it well because my eldest

sister attempted many times to learn the piece, without huge success.

“Err… you can change it if you want.”

“No… this is cool – I‟ve not heard this for a long time.”

“Do you play?” she asks.

“Not the cello - piano and guitar are my thing. My sister did cello though… she never

managed to master this.”

“It‟s a hard piece,” she agreed.

“You play?” And I can‟t keep the surprise out of my voice.

“Yes.” She smirks.

“Cello?”

“Yes.”

How many fucking chambermaids play cello and own fuck-off 4x4s… this didn‟t add up.

“Do you play well?” I ask, intrigued. She shrugs slightly at me. Yep – she plays well. “Do

you play this?”

“I can play all six of the cello suites. They‟re my favourite.” And she grins to herself.

Wow…

“I‟d like to see and hear you do it…”

She glances quickly up at me.

“I don‟t have my cello…” She says sadly.

“Where is it?”

“Far away…” she says wistfully, and frustratingly giving nothing away… again.

“Bella, how old are you?”

“I‟m 19.”

“Can‟t your folks send you your cello?” I just don‟t understand what‟s going on here.

What the fuck am I missing?

“My folks are dead.”

“Oh,” Shit! “I‟m sorry…” Fuck, this little girl is all on her own. Compassion rears its ugly

fucking head…

“They died when I was young. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Somehow I survived.” She
is so matter of fucking fact about the death of her parents. “I lived with my Grandmère

until she died recently.” Oh shit… more fucking death – she really is alone in the world.

“Is that why you moved here?”

She shakes her head and a shadow crosses her face, but she doesn‟t say more.

“Tell me about London,” she asks – and I know she‟s being fucking evasive again. But, if
she doesn‟t want to tell me, who the fuck am I to pry? So I regale her with stories about
living in London. First with my folks and then when I first started working - living in a

small apartment in Soho…

She‟s heading west. She finally turns off the main road and heads down a side road.
We‟re in the desert proper now and I can see sporadic Joshua trees, scrubby bushes and
sand and rock and shit and in the distance something big is shimmering. As we get

closer I see it‟s a lake. A fuck-off enormous lake in the middle of the desert.

“Lake Mead,” she says. “It‟s man-made, built when the Hoover Dam was constructed.”

She pulls off road and drives slowly to the shore, pulls up, switches off the engine and

turns to me.

“Here we are… I thought we could have a picnic by the lake.” She tugs her hair

nervously behind her ear and looks up me expectantly.

“Brilliant idea.” I mutter, dazzled again by her lovely, lovely face.

“We could go for a walk first,” she suggests… first… before what? - My mind and body

start racing…

“Okay,” and we clamber out of the car. I wrestle out of the overalls and leave them on

the back seat.

We‟re alone, in a weird barren landscape that looks fucking alien, quite frankly. But it
has a wild, bleak beauty about it. I offer her my hand, and I‟m beyond thrilled when she
takes it and we walk down to the shoreline. At the shore she scoots down and takes off
her trainers and rolls her jeans up. She unzips her hoodie and takes it off revealing a
white v-neck t-shirt beneath. She ties the arms of her hoodie around her waist. Her skin
is pale, flawless and I want to kiss every fucking inch of it. She starts paddling in the
water. I sit down and take off my converse shoes, socks and roll up my black jeans and
follow her in. The water is cool but not cold. She turns and grins at me, and then ducks
down quickly and splashes me lightly with water. Oh… like that is it? and I break into a
run after her as she squeals and runs along the shoreline trying to escape. I grab her
waist and lift her high onto dry land and spin her round. She‟s in my arms… finally and
I let her slide down my body as I put her down. I reach down and kiss her, hard.
Plunging both of my hands into her shiny as fuck hair and pulling her head back gently.
Her hair is so soft… like her provocative, welcoming mouth. Oh…she tastes so sweet. I

put my arm around her waist and pull her to me. And her breathing is all quick and
excited and her face is flushed. Her eyes are closed. She‟s clutching me to her, her hands
moving up my arms to my shoulders. Fuck she‟s gorgeous and I want her now… the
evidence pressed into her belly, but we‟re in the middle of the fucking desert and the
ground looks hard, dusty and not very welcoming. Even I wouldn‟t fuck her here… wait

the blanket… the back of the car…

“Shall we get the blanket,” I murmur softly against her ear as I trail kisses down to her

throat.

“Hmmm…” she moans and I feel it all the way down… down to the end of my throbbing
hard-on. I release her and grab her hand and walk back to the car. She stumbles after
me. We reach the Audi and I push her gently against the side of the car and kiss her
again. My hands either side of her face, my tongue coaxing hers and tasting her sweet
mouth. I slide one of my legs between hers and push gently parting her legs wider so
I‟m standing between her legs. She slides her hands up my chest and into my hair,

knotting her fingers into my hair and pulling gently. Fuck that feels good.

“Do you want lunch or love?” I whisper… hoping that she‟ll make the right decision.

“Hmmm,” she opens her eyes and looks blankly at me.

“Bella, I really want to make love to you… now, here…”

She frowns.

“But we‟re outside…” she says as if this is reason enough.

“You‟ve never made love outside?” I ask, stupefied… that‟s why she‟s reluctant… can‟t

possibly be anything to do with you Cullen, can it?

She flushes…

“Edward,” she breathes and she‟s all embarrassed and shit… “I‟ve never made love at

all…”

“Oh…” I mutter, completely lost for words as I stare into her dark, apprehensive eyes.
She's 19, she‟s beautiful and she‟s never… I‟ve found the last fucking American virgin. I

don‟t believe it…

~*~

Chapter Seven

Her statement is like verbal bromide. I‟ve never made love to a virgin. Shit… A Virgin! I
am in fucking awe. Okay – I‟m going to have to rethink the blanket/back of the car
scenario. No way I‟m making love to this girl for her first time unless we‟re in a large

comfortable bed just like the one back at the hotel.

She‟s staring up at me all anxious and twitchy and I smile down at her… reassuring and
shit and kiss her gently.

“How come someone as beautiful as you has managed to avoid sex?” Shit - perhaps

she‟s religious… but she shrugs slightly.

“I‟ve not really felt like it before,” she mutters and that rosy glow appears in her cheeks.

My heart soars at her words…

“So you feel like it now?”

“Oh yes… please,” she murmurs and her words echo into the base of my belly,

tightening everything in between.

“I think we should do this back at the hotel…” I whisper and she murmurs her assent.
My hands are now on either side of her face and I tilt her head up and rain kisses on her
very gently… over her slightly flushed cheeks, her closed eyes, the tip of her nose, her
lips. I realise in that moment that the world has shifted slightly on its axis. She‟s no
longer just a lovely, beautiful girl I want to make love to – she‟s precious… she‟s rare…
she‟s mine, yep I feel overwhelmingly fucking possessive. Oh my… what a weird fucking

feeling.

“Shall we have our picnic?” I ask pulling back as her long lashes flutter and she opens
her big brown eyes and stares up at me, her pupils dilated with longing. She‟s as fucking

dazzled as I am…

I step back, releasing her and take a deep cleansing breath. Down boy… you are just
going to have to bide your time for a wee bit longer. I run my fingers through my hair
trying to calm down… and it doesn‟t help that she‟s watching me like some hungry
predator and I‟m her next gourmet meal. She fumbles for the car keys, drops them in
the sand and then trips trying to pick them up. I catch her before she falls flat into dirt. I

love putting my hands on this woman… any excuse.

“Steady baby… Here let me.” I take the keys and press the remote and setting her down
again open the boot and collect the cool bag and picnic rug. I walk towards the shore

and set the blanket on the ground and put the cool bag down. She‟s still standing by the

car watching me.

“Hungry?” I ask.

“Very,” she replies and I know we‟re not talking about food and my dick twitches in

response.

“Well, you‟re going to need your strength… certainly for what I‟ve got planned for you
this afternoon – so you‟d better come and eat.” I say.

She smiles a slow fucking carnal smile. Shit, she‟s killing me as she ambles towards me.
And very gracefully she sinks on to the rug and pats the space beside her never taking

her eyes off me.

I sit.

“You know I don‟t even know your surname.”

She reaches across for the cool bag and her face falls slightly, she busies herself with

opening the bag and doesn‟t look at me.

“It‟s err… Mallory…” She murmurs.

“Christabel Mallory...” I whisper and pull at a lose strand of her hair and tuck it gently

behind her ear.

“Bella…” She corrects me. “I didn‟t know what you would like to eat. So I went a bit
crazy in the kitchens. I have French bread sandwiches, turkey or roast beef, I figured as
your British you‟d like the roast beef. There‟s guacamole and corn chips, some cheese
and cherries. Oh and some fresh lemonade.” And it‟s the longest sentence she‟s ever
said to me.

“Oh – I think I‟ll stick to the roast beef please. See if it‟s as good as my mother‟s.” And I
wonder why she‟s so hung up about her name. She hands me a sandwich and the bottle
of lemonade and I take a long draft. It‟s cool and delicious. Now that I know that I am
going to have my wicked way with her later, I feel kind of relaxed… but there‟s a kind of
heady anticipation crackling in the air between us… If I was a soppy bloody bastard I‟d
say electricity… but since I‟m not I am going to dismiss that idea out of my fucking head

right now.

She asks me more about my childhood and since she‟s as forthcoming as fuck – I take
centre stage and launch into the very happy life of one Edward Cullen, youngest child,

two elder sisters, posh schools in London – fucking lazy academically, but cute enough

to model and then act… the rest as they say is history.

She asks about my music, and for the first time in a few days I‟m sorry I don‟t have my
guitar… and I wonder idly if we should stop on the way back to the hotel at a music shop

and I can buy her a cello and me a guitar.

Every time I ask her a question about her life, she deflects it away and pushes the
conversation back to me. She does it skilfully, but by the time we are eating the cherries
and spitting out the stones to see how far we can get them, I‟m thinking she has some

serious shit to hide. Well maybe I‟ll get some answers out of her later.

I spit a cherry stone and it flies into the water.

“Ha Mallory – beat that.”

And she giggles shamelessly and is fucking hopeless when it comes to spitting cherry
stones… not even clearing the fucking picnic rug… and we both laugh. I lie down and
stare up at the beautiful blue sky. When did I last feel this fucking at one with
everything… relaxed, happy… horny… Shit I cannot remember. It‟s great to be in the big
outdoors looking at some serious sized sky. I turn my head and look at Bella and she‟s
lain down beside me – staring up at the sky too. She turns her head and gazes at me. I
reach over and take her hand and bring it up to my mouth and gently plant a kiss on the

back of her knuckles.

“Thank you for this…” I breathe. “You were right… it‟s good to get out.” And she smiles
her heart wrenching, bollock tightening, fuck off, full watt smile and I want to ravish

her there and then.

I lean up on one elbow, looking down at her.

“You are beyond lovely Bella,” I breathe and I place a chaste kiss on her slightly parted
lips. “Come on… let‟s get back to the hotel…”

She grins up at me.

“Okay…” and I know she‟s agreeing to so much more than the trip back to Las Vegas. I

stand up and help her up, and then gather up the blanket.

“I‟ll put this stuff in the trunk.” She takes the blanket from me… and I watch the soft
sway of her hips as she walks back to the car, feeling the familiar ache in the base of my
belly, knowing that in an hour or so she‟ll be in my bed. Oh Cullen… it‟s a dirty job but

someone‟s got to do it…

We drive back in a relaxed silence, with just the occasional question from me… that go
largely unanswered, or evaded… what the fuck is she hiding? As we get closer to the city
the sense of anticipation becomes more palpable in the air between us. I watch her as
she drives with such quiet confidence. She has a lovely profile, little upturned nose and
pouty lips… oh I‟ll be kissing them soon. I squirm uncomfortably in my seat as my

trousers become too small.

She pulls into the entrance of the hotel car park and drives underground. Shit there are
two paps just beyond the entrance and I can hear one of them shout. “That‟s him!” Bella
sees them at the same time, but we are both momentarily blinded by electronic flashes…

shit… forgot the fucking maintenance crew disguise.

“Oh…no.” she breathes and even in the murky dark of car park I can see that she‟s gone

deathly pale. Well she‟s having the full Edward Cullen experience.

“Just drive Bella!”

She ploughs through them and they leap out of the way and start running after the car.

“Oh, no… oh, no… oh, no…” she says over and over again, and there is real fear in her
voice as she continues to drive, too fast down to the next level. I am momentarily
confused… okay so maybe an outline of her face will be all over the internet tonight…
that‟s no big problem surely. The car has privacy glass. It‟s very difficult to take a clear
picture through this shit. I should know. She won‟t be recognisable. And then it occurs
to me that she might be fearful for her job, or maybe she just doesn‟t want to be seen
with you, Cullen. That thought is unpalatable and I dismiss it immediately. I need to
reassure her in some way, the overwhelming urge to protect this girl surfacing,

unbidden, again.

“When we get out of the car, you run on and call the lift. I‟ll give them a picture and

then I‟ll come and join you.”

“Okay...” she breathes, but she has a wild panicked look about her.

She parks badly, taking up two spaces and leaps out of the car, not waiting for me or
bothering to lock it. I spring out after her but she‟s already sprinting to the service lift.

The paps have caught up with the car and one of the paps snaps her retreating figure.

“Hello gentlemen.” Oh I can sound so fucking polite sometimes...

“Cullen, Hi, who‟s your lady friend?” The less oily of the two asks.

I smile broadly.

“Would you like a picture?”

“Yes please.”

“You have 5 seconds.” And I stand and smile, whilst they snap away and then turn on
my heel and sprint towards Bella and the lift. Of course they run after me, but Bella is in
the open lift, hidden by the open door and fuck me, the cavalry have arrived in the form
of a large, black security officer who steps out of the shadows and shouts at the paps to
fuck off. They stop taking photographs and start with their usual schtick but they back
off. He is one big motherfucker. Bella is looking up at me, eyes wide, flushed, lips
slightly parted… fuck she looks gorgeous. She chances a quick glance out of the door
and really weirdly the black security guy turns and glares at her… like really fucking
pissed off. Shit is she in trouble? Will he report her to her boss? Out with the guests?
Shit… The lift door starts to close and one of the paps snaps again, shit he may have

caught her that time, I pull her back and the lift door closes fully.

“Whoa…” she breathes. “That was intense.”

“That hotel security guy looked really pissed off… with you.”

She goes fucking crimson, and she looks like she‟s trying to come up with an

explanation.

“Yeah… I‟m probably in trouble…”

“Really?”

“You know… fraternising with the guests.” And the way she says fraternising… all dirty
and shit makes my breath hitch. We stare at each other… she‟s obviously excited by the

pap encounter… I‟m just excited because I‟m in an enclosed space with her.

We both lunge at each other - all hands, and lips, and tongues and mouths. I push her
up against the lift wall, her head in my hands and kiss her roughly, pushing myself
against her. She moans softly in my ear. One floor before mine, the lift stops and we
leap apart. I then push her into the corner of the lift shielding her from whoever gets in.
It‟s one of the valets from room service with a trolley, and a bloody smart uniform. He‟s

surprised to see me.

“Hi,” I grin.

“Hi.” He replies, eyes huge. “Are you lost?” He asks.

Bella snickers from behind me and I lean back gently and squash her against the lift

wall so that she shuts up… this just makes her giggle even more.

“No I‟m fine, thanks.”

The lift continues to the next floor and he has to get out with his trolley to let us out. I
keep Bella behind me during the entire manoeuvre and he‟s curious to see who‟s behind
me but he‟s polite enough to leave us to it. He pushes his trolley back into the lift with a
smile on his face and as the lift door closes Bella collapses into a fit of giggles behind
me. She‟s laughed more today than in all the other times she‟s been in my room. It is

such a joyful fucking sound, one I could listen to all day.

I grab her hand anxious to get her into my room…into my bed and push through the
double doors into the corridor. We arrive at room 1114 and I put the key card in the lock

and open the door.

“God I want you...” I whisper.

“Me too,” she breathes, all humour gone from her face and I follow her in.

~*~

Chapter Eight

Fuck… this is it. In twenty-four years have I ever felt as fucking excited as I do now? I
don‟t think so…

As I walk into the room behind her I reach out and grab her arm and pull her to me
spinning her round. I pin her against the wall with my body and seize her head in my
hands, tilting her face up to me. I kiss her and her lips are parted by the soft gasp that
my impulsive action elicits from her. Her breathing is ragged and she brings her
fingertips up to my face and softly traces the outline of my cheekbones and my
sideburns. Her touch is butterfly light, sweet, tentative and so fucking innocent. I am
instantly hard, desire coursing through me, I so fucking want this girl… My right hand
slides into her lovely shiny hair and cradles her head whilst my teeth gently pull at her
lush lower lip. I run my left hand down her shoulder, grazing the side of her breast, to
her waist, pulling her to me. I can feel her slight, curvy body against mine and it makes
me want her more. Her tongue cautiously licks my upper lip and then I‟m in her mouth,
caressing her tongue with mine, feeling her teeth, my dick getting harder… She moans
softly into my mouth and I instinctively flex my hips pressing my hard on into her. She

gasps and her eyes fly open.

Cullen, it's her first time... you are going to have to take this slow, stop being such a
Neanderthal. You‟ll need to get her really fucking aroused so she doesn‟t notice the
fucking pain, when you take her. The thought that I might hurt her makes me pause for

a moment and I gaze down into her bottomless, soul scorching eyes. I want to get this

woman naked and underneath me…

“I want to see you,” I whisper and grasp her hand. “Come.” I lead her into the living
room. “Sit,” I say, my voice hardly recognisable to me it‟s so full of fucking desire. I
gesture to the sofa and my eyes follow her as she turns and nervously sits down. She‟s
biting her bloody biteable lower lip, all dark eyes and fucking anxious. I kneel at her feet
and pick up her little foot, my hand grasps her round her small ankle and I untie the
laces of her trainer with my other hand and I take it off. She gasps and she reaches
behind her with both hands flat on the sofa like she‟s been struck by lightning or some
shit. Oh yeah… I’m getting to her too… good… She flexes her foot slightly. I hitch my
fingers into the top of her sock and pull it off… one naked foot. Fucking A… just the rest
of her body to unclothe… I pick up her other foot and repeat the process. I glance up at

her and she‟s all wide-eyed with her delicious rosy glow, watching me like a hawk.

“Stand up,” I whisper and she does and I am sitting back on my heels, kneeling at her
feet, worshipping at her altar... I untie her green hoodie, which is still around her waist
and let it fall to the sofa and then I undo the top button of her jeans and slowly pull the
zip down keeping my eyes on hers the whole time. I kneel up and kiss her soft belly, and
let my tongue swirl gently around and into her navel. She tastes so fucking good…
wholesome, sweet, like fucking Christmas… I groan. She puts her hands on my
shoulders and moves one hand into my hair, pushing my hair back from my face. Her
mouth is open and she‟s panting, all breathy and excited. I pull her jeans down and still
holding on to my shoulders she steps out of them. She has lovely, long, shapely legs and
she‟s wearing sweet, chaste, white cotton panties… oh fuck, she‟s gorgeous. My heart is
thundering. I run my hands up her legs to her thighs and I pull her towards me, never
breaking eye contact with her dark beautiful eyes. I kiss her at the apex of her thighs,
over her panties and I can smell her arousal… she smells fucking intoxicating and I
want to be in her… now, so much so that I groan with my need… Her breath hitches,
and she gasps, shocked, as I kiss her and her fingers clench on my shoulders and she

moans… the sweetest sound.

I stand and pull her against me again and kiss her long and hard. I bend down and pick
her up and carry her into the bedroom. She is so fucking light… too light. I need to feed
this woman. I set her down, sliding her down my body, relishing the feel of her against
me. She has her hands in my hair and she‟s gazing up at me, her eyes have lost all focus.
Fuck… is she turned on or what? I grasp the hem of her t-shirt and pull it over her head.
She shakes her hair loose as I discard her t-shirt on the floor. Her skin is so pale,
translucent and blemish-free – all over, and she‟s wearing a white cotton bra to match
her panties. I can see the soft swell of her breasts, and before I can stop myself I am
tracing the sweet curves with my index finger along the edge of her bra… Her skin is

soft… and very, very warm. She shivers under my touch and her breathing accelerates…

“You are so beautiful Bella,” I murmur… “The things I want to do to you…”

“Oh… please Edward,” she sighs and I feel so all fucking powerful, and happy and shit...

just hearing her say my name…

And she‟s getting the idea. She grasps the bottom of my t-shirt and pulls it up over my
head and throws it on the floor to join hers… Her eyes widen, and she bites her lower lip
as she‟s looking at my chest and her hands move down from my hair and over my chest.
She wants to touch me too… Shit… it‟s like fucking torture, her small hands on me, her
fingertips moving softly through the hair on my chest. I place my hands on her hips…
Go slow Cullen… Her hands move down to the button on my jeans and I watch her
lovely face, the small crease on her brow as she concentrates on my button flies,
undoing each one slowly… one at a time… and now I can reach down and gently kiss
that little indentation between her brows… it‟s so fucking soft and I plunge my left hand

into her hair again.

She undoes my fly and I pull her face up to mine and I kiss her, feather light kisses on
either side of her mouth and along her jaw and down her throat to her collar-bone. I
kiss the length of her two collarbones and I reach behind her and undo her bra and pull
it off. Bloody hell, she‟s slim but shit she has beautiful pert breasts, with nipples the
same colour as her sweet inviting lips. I continue my kissing journey from the base of
her throat down her sternum and gently push her at the same time so that we both fall

on to my bed, whilst I push my shoes off with my feet.

The fall takes her by surprise and she cries out softly.

“Oh.”

But before she can gather her thoughts my lips are trailing down to her left breast and I
cup her gently in my right hand… fuck…. a perfect fit. She fills my hand and as I touch
her, gently teasing her nipple with my thumb, she flexes her hips upwards completely
instinctively and starts moving them slowly to her own rhythm…

“Oh,” she says again and her fingernails dig into my shoulders.

Her nipple hardens instantly at my touch and then it‟s in my mouth and I suck gently,
pulling at it, making it longer and she bucks beside me. She‟s so fucking responsive and
her resulting groan feels like it‟s hardwired to my dick. I continue sucking, rolling her
nipple between my tongue and my teeth. I trail kisses to her other breast and suck hard

on her right nipple, elongating it and teasing it with my tongue. Bella cries out…

“Oh, Edward… please,” she begs.

I trail my fingers down from her breast across her belly, circling her navel, whilst I
move one of my legs between hers and push her knee gently with mine and part her legs
slightly. My hand moves lower to her lovely white panties and I gently cup her sex, she

bucks again and groans and I can feel her heat and how damp she is…. fuck she‟s ready!
Through the dizzy haze of lust and need, I wonder briefly, in that moment, if she‟s ever
had an orgasm… and suddenly I need to know. If this is her first time – I have no idea if

intercourse will be enough.

“Show me how you pleasure yourself, Bella.” I whisper.

And she opens her eyes and stares at me, completely baffled… and I know… she‟s never
touched herself. I stroke her gently through her panties and she groans, closes her eyes
and tilts her head backwards. I stroke her again, slightly harder, and again, and again
and I keep up a constant intense rhythm. I move back up her body and start kissing and
sucking on her breasts again, never letting my hand lose the rhythm… I can feel her
stiffen beneath me as her breathing becomes more erratic. I am so fucking grateful I‟ve
kept my trousers on… the compulsion to rip off her panties and plunge into her is over-
fucking-whelming. She knots her fingers into my hair and pulls… shit that feels good.
She stiffens and emits a small cry from the back of her throat and suddenly she‟s
writhing beneath my fingers and her head‟s thrown back and she moans… a deep carnal
sound. Wow… she’s come … Her eyes spring open and she stares at me in awe. I kiss her

hard and deeply, plunging my tongue into her mouth.

“Oh my…” she says when I pull away.

I smile a slow lazy smile at her.

“That‟s how you pleasure yourself…” I whisper. “We‟ll have a recap later, right now, I‟m
going to make love to you.” She gasps as I sit up and grasp her panties and then pull
them off her in one smooth movement. I squirm out of my jeans and boxers, throwing
them to the floor and I reach across to my bedside table for a foil packet. She‟s staring at

me. Saying nothing. Fascinated, slightly fearful.

“Have you ever seen a naked man?”

She shakes her head, biting her bottom lip.

“We will fit together… your body expands too…” I whisper. She raises her eyebrows as if

she doesn‟t quite believe me… fuck I‟ll just have to show her…

I open the packet and my dick is so grateful to be finally wearing a condom… I lean over
her and put one leg between hers. I kiss her again on her mouth and murmur her name.
My hand travels down her body, trailing over her breast, her nipple, down her stomach,
over her belly to her naked sex. I slip my finger inside her and she is so fucking wet...
she‟s beyond excited and the knowledge makes my dick fucking harder… shit - how is
that possible… I move my finger in and out of her slowly, stretching her, caressing that

sweet spot inside her, making it two fingers and once more her hips are moving against

my hand with their own rhythm.

And I want to see her when I enter her. How many virgins am I going to get my hands

on? I want to see her face… see how it feels for her.

I move between her legs, spreading them further apart with mine, my elbows on either
side of her face holding my weight. She has her hands on my back - her fingertips

clenched… tense. Shit…

“Do you really want to do this Bella?” I ask – giving her a final opt out, praying fervently

that she says yes.

“Love me Edward… please,” she breathes.

“Oh baby…” I kiss her sweet mouth again…

I slide so fucking slowly into her, and she screws up her little face. She is so tight,
squeezing me hard... shit she feels good, more than good... heavenly, a safe fucking
haven for me and my dick and I can‟t believe it when I actually feel her fucking virginity.
Shit… I didn‟t know one could feel this. The fucking evidence that no one has touched
her this intimately except me... The reverence I feel for this woman at this moment
nearly sends me over the edge. Shit… I do not want to hurt her...quick or fucking slow
what should it be? I opt for quick and like the fucking Neanderthal I am, I pull my hips
back slightly and then plunge deep, to the hilt, absorbing her quick startled cry in my
mouth... And I want to keep moving but I stop and feel her all tense and fucking will-he-

hurt-me-again underneath me. I look into her surprised startled big brown eyes...

“Okay?” I whisper but it‟s me that‟s seeking reassurance.

She nods frantically, but she‟s still as tense as fuck beneath me.

“Oh baby,” I whisper. “You feel out of this fucking world.” I kiss her very gently at the
corner of her mouth waiting for her to get accustomed to me inside her. It‟s agonising -
I don‟t want to move and I do want to move and I don‟t want to move. I run my nose
along her jaw up to her ear and I gently suck the sleeper in her ear and twiddle it with
my tongue. I kiss her neck and back down her jaw to her mouth. Then I feel her flex her
hips slightly and it‟s a fucking go signal for my dick and I ease back and then forward
again. She gasps and she‟s fucking moving with me. Mirroring my moves, a perfect

counterpoint

“Oh yes,” I breathe and we are really finally making love. She is exquisite. Tight and
sweet and oh shit… I‟m running through the periodic table, remembering King fucking
Lear‟s mad on the moor monologue, Arsenal‟s football results for the last two seasons -

anything to prologue this sweet, sweet agony and get this girl off. I inhale the heady
scent of her hair, kiss and lick her throat, graze my teeth along her jaw, kiss her closed
eyelids, her face, her lips, never losing pace. And I can feel her legs are stiffening and
her body bows beneath me. And I keep moving, keeping my rhythm and she‟s matching
me every step of the way, groaning and panting and moaning and pulling my hair. I can

feel her quiver inside… oh fuck…

“Come for me Bella...” I whisper through gritted teeth and fuck... she lets go and I can
feel her convulsing around me and she screams a mangled version of my name and it‟s
the sweetest fucking sound in Christendom... And I join her unable to hold back,

unwilling to hold back.

“Christ…” I climax - fuck do I climax, hard and deep inside her emptying my soul into
this beautiful girl. “Bella.” I rasp and it‟s a benediction on my lips and the best orgasm I

can remember… ever.

~*~

Chapter Nine

I gaze down into her dazed eyes, my fingertips caressing each side of her face. I kiss her
very gently.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask and my voice is hoarse and raw.

She shakes her head and tentatively she raises her hand and runs her fingers through
my hair. Her eyes are wide and full of… what… wonder? My heart squeezes. She is so
fucking beautiful. I am still inside her and I really, really don‟t want to move. I just want
to enjoy this glowing post-coital moment. Wow… that was fucking amazing. I must be
heavy on her though so I move slowly out of her watching her carefully and she winces
as I pull out. I remove the condom and place it on the floor beside my bed for disposal
later and I turn back to her and gather her into my arms so that she‟s lying across me,
her head resting on my shoulder. She places her arm over my chest her fingers softly
stroking me. I run my hand through her soft fragrant hair and down her back and I pull
the duvet over us. I am desperate to know what she‟s thinking, she‟s so fucking quiet…

fuck perhaps she didn‟t like it… shit…

She stretches languorously beside me and glances up at me, her dark eyes intense…

shit… what‟s this?

“Can we do that again?” she asks quietly and relief courses through me in the form of a

beaming fuck-off smile.

“Baby, we can do that anytime you like.” I lean down and kiss her hard and my dick
twitches and springs to life again. Fuck, round two already? She‟s not going to be up for

it again so soon…. is she? She can feel my erection against her leg. Her eyes widen.

“Again...?” She murmurs all dark eyes and still fucking innocent and she smiles like Eve

taking another bite of the apple.

My dick is delighted… but I know nothing about this girl, her name and that‟s about it.

“I‟ll make a deal with you.” I whisper, “You tell me something about yourself and then

we‟ll have another go…”

She frowns slightly.

“Are you really that interested?” she asks and I‟m cut to the fucking quick. What sort of
man-whore does she think I am? Of course I‟m fucking interested. She‟s just given me
her virginity… of all the cynical… She smiles at me indulgently as she watches these
various emotions play across my face. She tilts her head up and kisses my chin, then
grazes it slightly with her teeth, completely distracting me from my inner rant.

“I‟m a Virgo,” she says softly, “…well I was…” and I can‟t help but laugh with her and
groan as she continues with her teeth and tongue down my throat, to my chest. “Can I

touch you?” She whispers and I stop breathing.

“Sure, wherever you like,” I breathe, once I‟ve absorbed what she‟s asked. Her little
hand trails down my sternum and towards my stomach, just using her fingertips to feel
me, snaking down my body. Past my belly, my navel… oh fuck she‟s into my happy trail,
her curious little fingers are so fucking sexy… questing, feeling, through my pubic hair
and gently up my straining dick. Fuck. I roll my head back and close my eyes. She‟s
fucking torturing me. Running her fingers up the length of me. She doesn‟t know what
she‟s doing, it‟s all wrong - but fuck it‟s mind-blowing. Shit. I grab her hand and

squeeze her fingers round me and pull down hard… sweet fuck.

“This is what you do,” I murmur and I repeat the action and then I loosen my hold on

her and she does it on her own.

“Ow... fuck!” She pulls too hard, fuck that hurts… She let‟s go immediately.

“Sorry,” she mutters mortified.

I laugh softly and grab her head in both my hands and haul her up my body and kiss her

sweet inviting mouth.

“Don‟t worry… I‟ll survive… but let‟s check if it‟s still working.” I mutter against her lips
and she giggles. What a fabulous sound that is… I reach for a foil packet and turn over
so that she‟s lush and yielding beneath me. I kneel up and roll on the condom and stare
down at her. Her chestnut hair a glorious halo around her on the pillow… she‟s so pale,
but rosy and flushed over her cheeks and breasts. Her nipples harden as I gaze at her
lovely alluring body. I drag my index finger down her cheek, across her chin, down her
throat, between her breasts, down her belly, through her pubic hair and I slip it inside
her. She closes her eyes and flexes her hips instinctively and moans… shit… she‟s wet

and tight and ready.

“You are a very beautiful girl,” I murmur and I lean over her again and kiss each of her
nipples whilst my finger moves in and out of her. Her hands are knotted in my hair and

I trail kisses up her throat and to her mouth.

I am not so careful this time. As I plunge my tongue into her mouth, I plunge into her
and she bucks as I do. This time I don‟t wait for her to catch up… I push harder and
faster and deeper into her and she meets me every step of the way, over and over again.
She‟s keening softly in my ear, her voice rising slowly…. fuck it‟s a sexy sound. She‟s
bloody magnificent. Christ… I could lose myself in this woman… she‟s like nectar. She
smells so fucking sweet… I lean up on both of my hands so I can see her writhing
beneath me and I can feel her start to stiffen beneath me… oh no… there‟s no way she‟s
coming yet. I so don‟t want this to end yet. I lean down and turn us over, not breaking

contact, so that she‟s astride me… her eyes flare open as she‟s taken by surprise.

“I want to see you,” I murmur looking up at her. Worshipping her… I so want to watch
her come. “Sit up…” I whisper and she leans back slowly, her small hands on my chest
as she gets used to the feeling of me in her, beneath her… I grasp her hips and move her
up and down my dick. She cries out and for a moment I‟m worried that I‟ve hurt her,
but her mouth is open slightly and I can see her move the tip of her tongue across her
top teeth… she‟s loving this. I repeat the movement with her hips and she gets the idea
and starts picking up the rhythm. She shakes her glorious hair, puts her hands on top of
mine on her hips, leans back and really starts moving, up, down, fuck… she is beautiful,
brave, mysterious – she‟s a goddess… fucking Aphrodite. I need to know more about

her. I want more questions answered.

I thrust into her and then stop and I hold her still… keeping her poised above me. Her

eyes fly open dazed and bemused, searching mine… but she doesn‟t speak.

“Where were you before here?” I ask breathlessly and I thrust into her again really
slowly, but holding her in place so she cannot move. “You are not coming until you tell
me…”

“New York…” she says quickly.

“What were you doing there?” I thrust again and stop – fuck what kind of power trip is

this… information through sexual frustration… I don‟t think I‟ve ever stooped to this.

“Edward… please,” she begs.

“Oh no, baby… tell me.” I thrust slowly again and she‟s trying to push down on me.

“I was studying…” she whispers and she looks momentarily confused and lost, pleading

with her eyes… but I‟m not giving up now.

“What were you studying?”

“Please,” she whimpers and I thrust again, twice, and she‟s so close… her mouth is open

and her head is back.

“Tell me…” I stop and she‟s trying to grind down on me and find her release but I hold

her firmly in place so she can‟t move…. “Tell me. Bella, Baby, tell me.”

“Music.”

Oh my… I thrust once more and push her over the edge. She cries out her orgasm,
detonating around me and I grasp her hips and drive hard into her shouting my own

release.

I‟m almost tearful with fucking gratitude or some shit – that this innocent young
woman should give herself so freely to me. Fuck, get a grip Cullen. She‟s lying on top of
me… spent, trying to moderate her breathing. I kiss the top of her head and hold her

against me.

“You are so exquisite… I never want to let you go.” I murmur. She‟s mine… she really is
mine. Untouched by anyone but me. What a fucking heady feeling it gives me… How do
I deserve this?

She sits up and shakes my arms loose and climbs off me without looking at me. Shit…

something‟s not right.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask – alarmed.

She gathers the duvet around her and glares at me, she‟s close to tears. Fuck…what have

you done Cullen.

“I didn‟t know you could use sex as a weapon.” Shit… she‟s angry with me.

The fucking inquisition… oh, that‟s the problem.

“You won‟t tell me anything about yourself. I‟ve been trying to get information out of
you all day and you just avoid answering me. It‟s very frustrating. In spite of what you
think - I really want to know you… in every way Bella.” I add softly, contritely, with my

most please-fucking-forgive-me eyes.

“I can‟t tell you anything about myself Edward….” and she starts to fucking cry. Shit.

“Please stop asking me… just trust me when I tell you I can‟t.”

“Oh Bella, what is it? Are you in some kind of trouble?” I sit up and gather her reluctant,

naked, stiff, little body into my arms on to my lap.

“Please don‟t ask me…”

“Don‟t cry… please… I can‟t bear it. I won‟t ask you anything else. I promise and I‟m
sorry.” I tip her head up gently, gazing into her injured dark eyes and wipe the tears
from her cheeks with kisses. “I‟m sorry.” I say again. She puts her arms around my neck
and hugs me and I‟m so reassured I close my eyes and bury my head in her neck
inhaling her sweet cinnamon homely delicious fragrance. I hold her tight and run
through all the possible scenarios that would make this level secrecy a necessity… she‟s
married – no she‟s a virgin… was a virgin, so unlikely. She‟s an escaped convict…
hmmm unlikely. She‟s committed a serious crime… and not been caught yet. Possibly…
but she‟s fucking sweet and innocent – probably unlikely. She‟s in hiding… some
violent boyfriend or something – hmmm – this seems possible. But I don‟t ask and I let
the various scenarios play out in my head. The most annoying thing is that I‟m sure I

can help her – I‟m not without considerable fucking resources myself.

“Are you hungry?” I ask softly after a while. “I‟m starving…” Sex will do that to a man.

She nods. Finally something I can do for this girl.

“Can I ask you what you‟d like to eat?”

She shrugs.

“Surprise me?”

“Anything you don‟t eat?”

“Mushrooms…”

I grin… a precious piece of information. I lean over for the phone and call room service.

“This is Mr Latymer in room 1114 – I‟d like a meal for two, hors d‟oeuvres, entrees and
desert – fine wine – white and dry please - a Sancerre or Pouilly Fuisse – French theme

– no mushrooms please – within an hour.”

“Will that be all Sir?”

“Yes – for now – thank you.”

“You‟re welcome Mr Latymer.”

“Latymer?” Bella looks up at me perplexed and part of me is irritated that she can ask

me questions but I can‟t ask her…

“It‟s my fake hotel name. I use it to keep some kind of anonymity. It‟s the name of the

school I was expelled from when I was twelve.”

“You were expelled from school?”

“Oh yes…” I grinned. “I set fire to the chemistry lab… Come on let‟s have a shower.” As
she climbs off me I notice she has blood at the top of her thighs. Shit – more fucking

evidence of her innocence.

I scoop up the used condoms and toss them in the bin and grasp her hand and pull her

into the vast ensuite. I turn on the shower and pull her in behind me.

“Let‟s get you clean,” I murmur and I pull her to me and we both stand under the
cascading water. I lean down and kiss her lips tenderly and then turn her round so that
her back is pressed to me. I reach for the fuck-off one-hundred dollar a sniff shower gel
– that smells pretty fucking nice actually, all lotus flower and shit and soap my hands.
Rubbing them together, I reach down and wash the tell-tale blood off the top of her
thighs and then gently between her thighs. She stiffens as my fingers brush over her
sex. And I can‟t believe that my traitorous, over-eager dick twitches again… no… give
the girl a fucking rest. I lather her belly, her stomach and her breasts and it‟s a fucking
thrill-and-a-half to lean over her and see my hands on her. She arches her back and

presses her breasts into my hands. Fuck me…

“Again?” I whisper in disbelief in her ear.

“Hmmm…” she mumbles her assent. “Without the twenty questions…?”

Bloody hell… well she‟s certainly making up for lost time.

“I want to wash your hair first…”

~*~

Chapter Ten

She is wrapped in one of the fluffy as fuck bathrobes looking pretty fucking adorable
whilst I am wearing my jeans… She‟s curled on the sofa with my script and we‟re
rehearsing my lines for the next day. She so fucking gorgeous and good at this… She
reads well… if I didn‟t know better I‟d think she was an actor too… she picks up all the

nuances in the script on first reading. Fuck she‟s bright. There‟s a knock on the door.

“Room Service.”

Bella leaps up and scurries into the bedroom and closes the door. Of course, she may
know the waiting staff… I grab my wallet, take out a twenty-dollar bill and quickly slip

on my t-shirt and open the door.

Fuck me… a trolley with candles and several silver fucking domes all over my food… It‟s

the guy from the lift.

“Hi…” I grin.

“Good evening Sir.” He wheels in his trolley.

“Set up over there, please.” I wave at the small table near the balcony and let him do his

thing.

“Would you like me to open the wine Sir?”

“No – I‟ll do it thanks. Leave it in the wine cooler.”

He takes his twenty and leaves. I open the bedroom door and Bella is anxiously pacing.

“It‟s safe to come out now… Will you join me for dinner?”

She flushes shyly… how can she still be shy? I was making love to her in my shower less
than an hour ago. The memory of her legs wrapped around me whilst I pinned her

against the shower wall distracts me for the moment.

She follows me back into the living room. She winces as she sits down on the hard chair
and I‟m flooded with guilt. Shit… she‟s fucking sore.

“You okay?”

She nods and smiles at me – giving nothing away.

“What do we have to eat?” she asks innocently.

I shrug.

“Let‟s see what your kitchens have sent up.”

I open the smallest of the silver domes and it‟s chips… fries in American… I can‟t

imagine that‟s the starter. I check the next size up… scallops with chorizo… fab.

“Here we go…” and I serve us both a portion.

I quickly fetch the corkscrew from the minibar and open the Sancerre.

“Wine?”

“Yes please,” she smiles at me… fuck she looks so fucking gorgeous. Her hair is all wet
and long and scruffy around her. She looks thoroughly well fucked. Cullen you have
done a good job there, I inwardly congratulate myself. And I immediately castigate

myself for being such a fucking smug bastard.

We sit and eat.

“Okay, so we can‟t talk about you precisely… can you tell me about your childhood?”

She forks a scallop into her mouth and frowns, the kissable dent between her brows

appears.

“I don‟t suppose that will do any harm.” she muses.

She is completely beguiling and proceeds to enthral me with her frankly feral childhood
growing up in the bayous of Louisiana… very wild and free – so different from my

experience of growing up in London, but then she‟s had no parental control.

“And the cello-playing?”

“Oh that was at my Grandmère‟s insistence. She didn‟t like the violin – and of course in
Cajun music violins were all the rage… she wanted me to be different.” She shrugs… so

matter of fact and she doesn‟t realise I am hanging on every single word she says.

She is so animated. Relaxed. I don‟t think I‟ve seen her that way before, except possibly
at the Lake. We finish our scallops and we have Chateaubriand steak with a béarnaise

sauce with fries and spinach for our entrée.

She eats like a horse… how can she be so slim? Or maybe she‟s just hungry after all our

carnal activity.

I tell her about my dog that I‟ve had to leave with my parents back in London. She sighs
and tells me how jealous she is that I have a pet… she was never allowed. I wonder
briefly if I should buy her a puppy? Fuck I want to buy her the world… I tell her about
my parents, my sisters and my baby nephew… whom I have not seen in over nine

months…

“You miss your family?” She asks.

“Very much.”

“Why don‟t you go home more often?”

“I ask myself that question every morning… don‟t get me wrong… this is a great life. But
people expect so much from me… you know I‟d hate to disappoint. I‟m sure it will
happen one day, and I‟m waiting for that day. Then I‟ll pack up and go home.” Fuck…
why am I telling her this shit? She‟s so easy to talk to. I can‟t remember the last
conversation I had when I didn‟t have to adhere to the Hollywood bullshit… fuck it‟s

refreshing.

We are on to dessert, Tarte Tartin… bloody apple pie – delicious, with cream.

Bella shakes her head.

“No really, I cannot eat any more…”

“What if I feed you?” I ask her, holding a fork full for her to taste. Her breath hitches…
she licks her lower lip and her eyes blaze at me. My whole fucking sated body clenches
watching her. She leans forward, never taking her eyes off mine and opens her sweet
inviting little mouth and takes the morsel off my fork… oh my… how can she be so
fucking innocent and so fucking sexy at the same time..? I pour the last of the wine. I‟m
sure the alcohol is having some effect on her. Hmmm - She‟s fucked, she‟s full, she‟s had

a bit to drink – maybe she‟ll answer some questions now… How to go about this?

“I know I‟m not supposed to ask you any questions… but you know, if you‟re in trouble,

I‟d be happy to help.” I leave my offer hanging between us. Her brow furrows.

“Edward I appreciate the offer, but really, there‟s nothing you can do to help. Can I ask
you a question?” Here we go with the old deflecting technique… she‟s so fucking

competent at it.

“Sure… anything.”

“You can have any girl in the world… why me?”

I am so surprised by her question… why her? Why not her, she‟s beautiful, funny,
mysterious, shy and clumsy as fuck…shit what can I say that isn‟t going to land me in
whole heap of trouble. She‟s fucking attractive… does she not know how attractive she

is… those damn New Yorkers… did they not see? I decide to go for honesty.

“You‟re beautiful, shy, mysterious… why wouldn‟t I want you… Bella, you‟ve bewitched
me… I could ask you the same question. Why me Bella?” Ha, Mallory – answer me

that… She flushes and glances down at her knotted fingers.

“Edward… you‟re… you…” she waves her hand in my direction trying to illustrate some
point. “What more can I say? And you helped me when I fell and hurt my head and you
were angry about,” she pauses and squirms uncomfortably in her chair, “the man next
door. No-one‟s really cared about me like that for a long time.” My heart constricts at
her words. She‟s so young and fragile to be in the world on her own. I want to look after

her… yet she won‟t tell me what‟s wrong. She shifts again and rises out of her seat.

“I ought to be going back.”

What!!! No fucking way.

“Do you have to leave? I thought you weren‟t working today.”

“I‟m not… but you must want to sleep.” Fuck me - she wants to go.

“I was hoping you‟d spend the night with me.” I say quietly, my heart suddenly

pounding, fucking unsettled that she might leave… why the fuck does she want to leave?

There‟s a knock on the door. Shit… I sprint over to the door and check the spy hole. It‟s

one of Bella‟s colleagues. I open the door.

“Would you like a turn-down service sir?” the young woman asks. I have to stifle my

smile.

“No thanks,” I say brightly and shut the door.

Bella is no longer in the living room. She‟s in the bedroom gathering her clothes
together. I don‟t understand. This woman has surrendered herself to me and now she
wants to leave. It makes no sense to me. I stand in the doorframe anxiously watching
her.

“I‟d really like you to stay.” I murmur. “Please.” Fuck I sound desperate and the thought
that she might leave galvanises me into action. I stride up to her and pull her into my

arms, wrapping myself around her. “Don‟t go,” I breathe into her damp hair.

She frowns – like she doesn‟t understand how I feel about her… How do I feel about

her? Shit…

“If I stay can we… will we…?” She blushes.

Shit where‟s this coming from… she‟s so fucking confusing…

“Not if you don‟t want to…”

“Oh no… I want to.” She looks so serious and fucking eager, her expression makes me

smile… or maybe I‟m smiling with relief that she wants to stay.

“You‟re making up for lost time. I‟m beginning to think that you just want me for my

body…” I say sardonically.

She flushes. Shit… maybe she does…

“No it‟s… well… I never thought I‟d… it‟s never…” she finishes tongue tied. I lean down

and kiss her.

“I‟m teasing you… Bella I want to make love to you - but if you just want to sleep –that‟s
fine too… sleep with me… please.” Fuck will I ever have my fill of her..? I have visions of
taking her on every surface in the suite… on the sofa, the low arsed feng shui coffee
table shit, over the minibar… Hmmm… my dick twitches with approval. She‟s fucking

sore Cullen, leave her alone - stop being such a fucking animal.

“I need to make a call,” she murmurs. I release her and watch her wander back into the
living room. Who the fuck is she calling? I try hard not to listen… but I just can‟t help

myself. I‟m too curious about this woman and she‟s so fucking secretive.

“Hi, it‟s me…. I‟m in 1114… no… not now Emmett - I know it was foolish…. I‟m sorry….”
Who the fuck is Emmett? Fuck she sounds utterly exasperated. “Well may I remind you
that I‟ve lived like this for the last six months…” she sounds really fucked off. “Well…
tomorrow morning…. no don‟t… I‟ll be fine. I‟m hanging up now.” Shit… I scoot guiltily
back into the middle of the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed and try to look

nonchalant – no way was I eavesdropping….

She‟s pensive as she wanders back into the bedroom, chewing her lower lip.

“All okay?” I ask and my voice is slightly too high, bristling with curiosity.

She nods distractedly and raises her head to gaze at me… and her expression changes.
She flushes slightly and then she smiles a heart-breakingly beautiful smile and I open
my arms and she bounds into them, standing in front of me, between my legs, running
her hands through my hair, pulling my head back and kissing me… fuck. I undo the
fastening on her robe and snake my hands underneath it around her lovely naked body

feeling her soft, soft skin.

“Love me Edward,” she murmurs. “Make me forget.” It‟s a siren call, all the way to my
soul. I groan as my whole body lights up and I pull her down on to the bed to fulfil her

wish.

---------------

She‟s curled beside me asleep and I‟m staring up at the ceiling. It‟s midnight. What an
extraordinary fucking day… she‟s such a revelation, beautiful, giving, brave… secretive…
she‟s fucking lovely… even though she won‟t tell me what the fuck‟s wrong… I shift and
lean up on my elbow to study her. She looks so fucking small and sweet. Her hair a
lavish cloud of chestnut over my pillow – and she has a small smile on her face… yep –
you put that there Cullen, you lucky, lucky bastard. What about tomorrow? Will she
stay tomorrow night… and the night after…? Fuck – the thought that she might not fills
me with dread. Christ, she‟s mine – in every fucking sense of the word and I‟m suddenly
overwhelmed with a possessiveness I‟ve never felt before. The feeling expands filling my
chest. I can almost taste it. I think about the fact that she‟s working here… if she was
with me she wouldn‟t need to work… Shit Cullen where are you going with this train of
thought? She‟s got some fuck-off secret she‟s not telling you … and you want to live with

her? After one day…? Get a fucking grip.

She stirs and turns towards me…

“Edward…” she whispers…

“Yes baby…?”

“Please…”

“Bella," fuck – "you won‟t be able to walk tomorrow…”

Her hand winds around my back and she presses her little naked body against me…
fuck… Cullen – enough… she‟s kissing my chest, running the tip of her tongue up

towards my throat.

“Bella… please… you really will be sore…” I groan as her teeth graze my throat… hmmm
fuck. Christ the stamina of this slight girl is awesome… Shit I cannot make love to her
again… can I..? No! My conscience screams at me. Well…we don‟t have to have

intercourse. I grab her face and kiss her my tongue exploring her mouth. How can
anyone taste this sweet? I trail kisses down her throat, towards her breasts, licking and

sucking as I go… down her stomach to her belly… lower…

“Edward No!” She squeals scandalised, as she realises my intention and she grabs my
hair, trying to stop me. But I pin her hands to her sides and hold them there. I can‟t

suppress my grin against her lower belly as I continue my slow journey south.

“Trust me…” I whisper.

I trail my nose through her pubic hair…. fuck she smells of sex… and it‟s intoxicating…
My tongue finds it‟s goal and I feel her writhe and buck beneath me… Christ she tastes
good… she moans… loud - and I continue to lap at her… my tongue teasing,
tormenting… and I can feel her start to stiffen… that‟s right baby… I‟m merciless…
sucking and licking and she cries out as she comes… a dazed, helpless cry and it makes
me feel ten feet tall… As much as I‟d like to sheathe myself in her – I forgo this
pleasure… she really will not be able to sit down if I do… I reach up and gather her into
my arms and I can feel the tremors of her orgasm subsiding. I kiss her long and hard,

her taste still on my tongue…

“Oh Edward…” she breathes and I bury my head into her neck… holding her…

“Perhaps you‟ll sleep now… sleep well beautiful Bella.” I think I’m in love with you…

Within moments she‟s asleep, smiling, content in my arms and I‟m not far behind.

~*~

Chapter Eleven

When I wake she‟s gone. It‟s five in the morning and I have to go to work. Where is she?
I‟ll see her this evening I tell myself with conviction. I get dressed in a daze and head
out of the door. I‟m in the back of my car… Mike my driver says nothing. We never talk
in the morning, it‟s too fucking early, our conversations are always late when the Strip is
all lit up and we're on our way back to the hotel. I‟m lucky it‟s too early for the rabid
teens – and they must be getting bored by now, surely… I live in hope. As I lean back in
the quiet comfort of the warm car I let my mind drift to the previous day. By the time
we arrive on location I have the most stupid, dreamy, fucking smile on my face… and I
can‟t suppress it. Eric my sweet little PA is suspicious and slightly perturbed as he
hands me my first coffee mocha of the day… The wonderful thing about what I do – is
that I can behave like a complete arsehole… and get away with it. I hand Eric my credit
card and tell him that I want the best cello he can find, screw the fucking cost, delivered

to my hotel room by the time I return this evening… and I know it will be done. How

fucking cool is that?

The morning drags… and for the first time in a long time I sincerely wish I was
elsewhere… back in my bed with Bella. I wonder how she is… what she‟s doing… if she‟s

sore… Fuck what a marathon that was… even for you Cullen. I smile inwardly.

“Cut,” the director shouts… shit… “Are you with us Edward?”

“Yeah… sure… sorry.”

“Take four.”

The real plus of the day is that Tanya is not working… no fucking Denali – so once I can
marshal my thoughts away from the lovely Bella I can relax and crack on… It‟s a good

day.

I can barely contain my excitement as Mike drives me back to the hotel. He keeps

glancing at me oddly…

“Is everything okay Mr Cullen?” Mike is very formal.

“Fine… Mike, thanks – can we go any quicker?”

“Not in downtown Las Vegas sir.”

Damn these Americans and their slow fucking speed limits.

“Are you anxious to be back at the hotel sir?”

“Something like that.”

Mike smiles to himself.

----------------

I am showered, presentable… in my last clean flannel shirt – I really must send my shit
down to the laundry – in fact I decide there and then to organise my laundry… I never
do this – but it‟s getting a bit fucking rank even for me … and hopefully…shit… Bella

will be here shortly.

Laundry sorted, I should get it all back tomorrow clean – and I feel so fucking pleased
with myself. My Mum would be proud. I open a beer and wait for Bella… I am on
fucking tenterhooks… where is she? I can‟t order room service until I know if she‟s

eating with me or not… It‟s 9 pm… where is she? I hear her timid knock. I‟d know it

anywhere.

“Come in.”

She looks shy as fuck as usual, peeking up at me through her long lashes, rosy glow on
her cheeks. Yep, she‟s still fucking gorgeous and I‟m at her side and she‟s in my arms

before she can open her mouth.

“God I missed you today.” I breathe after I‟ve kissed her. “I‟ve thought about nothing
but you all day… I think I was a nightmare to work with… I was so distracted… Please
tell me you‟ve left this room until last…” She nods as I pull the hideous cap off her head,
freeing her lush mane of hair, and kiss her again. She moans into my mouth and presses

herself against me and it‟s the sweetest aphrodisiac, I‟m instantly hard and wanting.

“I bought you something…” I whisper.

She frowns slightly at me.

“Come.” I lead her into the bedroom – on the bed is the cello case. Her mouth drops
open and she actually jumps on the spot and squeals with delight like a small child. She

deftly opens the case and stands back to gaze at the contents.

“Wow… it looks like a Scarampella… it‟s lovely,” she stares at me astonished and claps

her hands.

I beam at her… Eric has done well.

“Where did you get this?” She asks in awe.

“Truthfully, my PA found it for me…”

She frowns…. oh no… I shouldn‟t have „fessed up to Eric‟s involvement.

“It‟s expensive….” She scolds me.

Phew – relief courses through me, is that all…? I shrug. I haven‟t a clue how much it

cost – I forgot to ask Eric.

“I have no idea how much it cost…”

She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes at me but cannot contain her
excitement. She takes it out of the case and sits down on the bed, cello between her
legs… I briefly wonder if I could get her to play it naked…. hmmm… She tunes it and

then leans over and grabs the bow and she begins to play… fuck can she play. Bach‟s
cello suite… no 1… the prelude … fuck… my sister never managed to get her cello to
sound like this. I sink to the floor to watch her and she‟s lost… lost in the music and the
notes are sweet, swirling out around the room… wow… She’s so fucking good… concert

standard surely… not that I know anything about the cello…

My mouth is dry by the time she‟s finished. She puts it down and bounds over to me on
the floor and practically launches herself at me… knocking us both flat on the floor… me

laughing and she‟s giggling with glee.

“Thank you thank you thank you… I have so missed my cello.” And she kisses my face,
my throat, my mouth and fuck… that‟s the only cue I need. I kiss her back and start to
undo the buttons of the awful nylon shit she‟s wearing…I pull her uniform apart and
she‟s wearing little white cotton panties and her bra… Holy fuck, I want to make love to
her on the floor… and I roll her over so I am on top of her and I grab her face in my
hands and I kiss her, hard. My hand is travelling up her thigh… towards her panties…
and suddenly she‟s grabbing at the buttons on my flannel shirt…. shit – I can‟t screw

her on the floor… my dick is straining in my boxers…

“Bella… let‟s get into bed…” I whisper hoarsely…

“No… now… here…” she says… all breathy and assertive. Well who am I to contradict a
lady? I slip her panties down her legs and reach into my jeans back pocket for a
conveniently placed condom… I undo my trousers… fuck I want to be inside her and

she‟s straining her hips up to me… she‟s desperate too… shit…

“Are you okay… not too sore?” I ask in a brief moment of caring lucidity.

“Yes… fine… Edward please…” she begs… Christ she‟s as up for it as I am. She‟s so
fucking brazen. I slip on the condom and then I‟m inside her… no fucking
preliminaries… she gasps… loudly, clutching at my back and then lifts her legs and
wraps them around my waist. I start to move. Fuck she‟s exquisite… and she‟s moving

her pelvis in counterpoint to mine… fuck this is going to be quick…

“Bella… don‟t move…” shit… I explode into her… and by some fucking miracle she
comes too…. how the fuck… and we lie gasping on the floor, I haven‟t even taken my

trousers off… I am such a fucking savage. But I start to laugh…. wow…

“Christ…Bella… I should buy you more cellos…”

And she laughs too… all breathless and beautiful beneath me. I gaze down at her… and

kiss her tenderly… her dark eyes are wide, slightly out of focus…

“You are so lovely…” I murmur. “Let‟s go to bed.”

She grins up at me.

------------------

Later we‟re in bed and I‟m feeding her ravioli, and licking a bit of pesto sauce from the
corner of her mouth. She‟s all mussed up and tousled, looking so fucking hot, like she‟s

had sex twice – which she has… There‟s a sudden loud banging on my door.

Shit… what the fuck?

I grab my jeans and slip them on leaving Bella in bed and go to the door and check

through the spy hole. Fuck it‟s Denali.

“Open up Edward or I will make a scene out here,” she shouts. “I know you‟re in there.”

How does she know I‟m in here?

I open the door and she barges past me.

“So you are in here then?” She shouts at me. Shit - she was bluffing… foolish twat,

Cullen.

“What is it Tanya?” I can‟t help but let my irritation bleed into my voice.

“This!” She snarls and holds up some cheap fucking tabloid newspaper and on the front
page is a grainy as fuck picture of me and…. shit Bella… although it‟s hard to tell it‟s

her… “Who the fuck is this Cullen?” she shouts.

“Well, quite frankly Tanya, that‟s none of your business… now I‟d like you to leave.” I‟ve

had enough of her shit.

“You are supposed to be dating me…”

“No Tanya, I‟m not… please leave…”

“But you made love to me the other day…”

“Tanya, what we did was not making love.” Shit… Bella can hear this conversation.

And then Tanya is looking at me… really staring at me as I stand in just my jeans, bare

chest, bare feet… Have I got pesto on my nose or some shit?

“You‟re not alone are you?” she says in a sudden rare moment of fucking oracle-like

insight and she heads to the bedroom. I run and stand in front of the bedroom door.

“Tanya, leave now… if you don‟t leave willingly I will physically remove you… go.”

“She‟s here… isn‟t she Edward?” She hisses at me, her voice is quiet and menacing. In

spite of my anger I think I fucking blush… fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Tanya - leave… now.” I say through gritted teeth.

The bedroom door opens behind me and Tanya‟s mouth drops open. She‟s absolutely
gobsmacked. Bella stands in the doorway dressed in my flannel shirt and she puts her
arm around my waist.

“Hi,” she says to Tanya, sweet as apple pie.

Fuck me… little Miss Assertive again. I put my arm around her slim shoulders and bend

down and kiss her fragrant, shiny chestnut hair.

“Tanya, Bella, Bella, Tanya…” I decide a formal introduction is in order.

Tanya‟s disbelieving face looks from me to Bella and scowling back to me again.

“You fucking bastard.” Tanya growls at me, and she‟s about to turn to head out the door
when she looks at Bella again. “Don‟t I know you from somewhere, Bitch?” she snarls.
Fuck this… no one is speaking to my girl like that. I push Bella behind me and I grab

Tanya‟s hand and haul her to the suite door.

“Get out Tanya, until you learn some bloody manners.” I push her out the door and
slam it shut behind her.

Bella is standing in the bedroom doorway biting her lower lip.

“Sorry about that.” I mumble apologetically watching her intently, hoping she won‟t

bolt.

Her little mouth presses into a hard line.

“So you have slept with her…”

“I‟ve never slept with her… I‟ve fucked her twice…”

Bella flinches but says nothing.

“Once on the first film we worked on when I was young and stupid and then on day two
of this film, because she jumped on me… you know… it felt rude not to.” Shit I‟m

babbling, and for the first time in my life I feel ashamed of myself and where my dick

has led me.

“I think I‟d better go…” Bella mumbles, staring down at her hands.

“Oh No… No way. No way is Denali driving you away or coming between us please.
She‟s crackers… crazy. Honestly… please. I shouldn‟t have had sex with her the other

day… I didn‟t want to… I‟m sorry.”

“Edward… you don‟t have to apologise to me… I‟m not your confessor…” She sounds so

cold... Shit.

“Bella, please. Forgive me… It was before… before you fell over and bashed your head in

my bedroom.” She gazes at me, her face impassive. Oh what the fuck is she thinking?

“Is that what we do?” She asks.

“What?” What is she on about?

“Fuck,” she says. “You said you‟ve fucked her.” Oh shit… great loquacity Cullen, you

idiot… now get out of this. I stare at her blankly.

She smirks at me,

“‟Cos we sure fucked a lot yesterday and today.” And she grins the most mischievous
grin. I think my mouth falls open shocked at hearing such obscenity from her sweet,
innocent little mouth…. she just makes it sound so naughty and also – she‟s not angry

with me.

She laughs and suddenly she looks so young.

“Your face…” she giggles. “It‟s a Kodak moment.”

She is taking the piss out of me…

“I‟ll give you fuck…” I laugh and I chase her back into the bedroom. She squeals again
and scrambles on to the bed and I grab her ankles and pull her flat on to the bed and I
climb on top of her pinning her face down into the mattress. She cannot stop laughing
and I debate whether or not to tickle her stupid or… fuck her again - and as ever my

carnal desires win out.

“I am going to take you from behind…” I whisper, trailing my fingertips up her outer

thigh and she stops laughing immediately and gasps.

“I know how to get your attention Mallory…” I start to kiss her under her ear, then I
suckle her earlobe, twirling her little gold sleeper round with my tongue, pressing my
hard-on into her lovely naked round behind. She sighs, closes her eyes and starts

squirming beneath me.

- - -

Will I ever have my fill of this girl? She‟s straddled across my chest, gently making
patterns with her fingertips in my chest hair. Suddenly she sits up and looks down at

me.

“It‟s late,” she says… oh fuck not this again.

“Don‟t go.” I say quickly before she can say anything else. “Stay. I want you to stay,

please.”

“I want to stay,” she replies, smiling shyly… and I‟m relieved. “But I need to make a

call.”

“Go ahead.” This must be to the mysterious Emmett… like yesterday. This time she
doesn‟t head out of the room but she just turns over and uses the bedside phone…

hmmm progress of sorts.

“Hey, Jasper, it‟s me… room 1114…. yes,” she laughs. “Goodnight Jasper.”

Jasper… who the fuck is Jasper… and I‟m fucking annoyed I‟ve promised not to ask her

any more questions.

“Okay, you‟ve got me for the night… what are you going to do with me?” She asks

wantonly, her dark eyes sexy as fuck, sparkling with amusement.

“You are one brazen little innocent. You have taken to this like a duck to water.” I gaze

up at her in awe.

“Perhaps I‟ve just taken to you,” she says with no trace of humour and she bends down
and kisses me on my cheek, sweetly, chastely. “I need a moment,” she says and she
climbs out of bed to use the ensuite bathroom. Instinctively I rub my face where she‟s
kissed me. Wow… taken to me… Idly I pick up the TV remote and switch on the fuck-off
plasma screen on the wall that faces the bed. Shit… it‟s me on the TV – some
entertainment news shit…an over made-up blond, all teeth and fucking big hair

spouting crap.

Edward Cullen was out with a mystery woman at the luxury hotel he’s staying whilst
on location filming his latest film Power with Tanya Denali… Insiders have said that

the chemistry between Ed and Tanya has been real hot and steamy and extends
beyond the film set. But this looks like there’s another woman in Cullen’s life… What
will Tanya make of this? And will this be enough to finally squash the rumours that

surround ‘Tanward.’

And there are the fucking grainy pap shots of Bella and I taken in the underground car
park yesterday. Bella stands in the doorway of the ensuite watching with horror on her

face. She bites her lower lip, her expression beyond anxious. I switch the TV off.

“It‟s very hard to tell it‟s you – it‟s just because we were there that we know it‟s you.” I

try to reassure her.

“Do you think so?” She says, her voice small and troubled. What the fuck is wrong? But
I can‟t ask her. I know she won't tell me. I‟ve had to put up with this kind of shit for two

years now so I‟m more used to it.

“Hey… don‟t worry – I‟ll get snapped with one of the make-up girls from the set next
week and she‟ll be the next mystery woman in my life. Please, Bella don‟t worry.” I
throw the duvet back for her to join me in bed and she scrambles in beside me… still
with a worried look on her face. I wrap my arms around her and we snuggle down into
the bed. The small dent between her brows has appeared. I kiss it gently and hold her
tightly. I don‟t want her worried and unhappy. I want to protect her from this shit. I

want her to feel safe… loved…

“Please don‟t worry Baby… this is just the media stirring up a shit storm trying to fill air
time and selling advertising space… Please, don‟t let it put you off.” There I‟ve said it…
my secret fucking fear - out there between us. I don‟t want all this shit to drive her

away.

She gapes up at me.

“What makes you think that all of this would put me off?”

I shrug,

“It‟s pretty full on Bella. I‟d love to take you to the pictures, or go bowling or out for a
meal… but it‟s impossible. I just can‟t do that kind of normality any more… and I miss it
and it‟s very hard for anyone who‟s not in this business to understand.”

She frowns,

“I may know more about this than you think,” she says cryptically. “Besides, I really

suck at bowling.”

She gazes up at me all warm and soft and willing and before I know it... she's

underneath me again....

~*~

Chapter Twelve

When I wake she‟s gone… again. Why doesn‟t she wake me to say goodbye? I hate it that
she‟s gone and all I have left is her delicious fragrance on my pillow and a fucking
fabulous memory of last night. In fact it‟s really fucking irritating. What‟s more, as I
stumble into my flannel shirt and jeans, I know I have to face Denali… fuck that‟s not

going to be fun.

Denali is a complete bitch. But fortunately in an „I‟m-never-speaking-to-you-ever-again‟
kind of way. Which is fine by me. I can‟t help feeling that she‟s cooking up some sort of
revenge. It would be her style. I imagine her leaking to some sleazy fucking tabloid that
I‟m dickless or some such… I‟ll just have to wait and see what she has in store for me. I
am lucky as the executive producers in their Italian designer suits are visiting the set
today so everyone is on their best behaviour and she stays civil on set… and that‟s all we
need to get through the day. The downside is that the executive producers want to take
the cast out for a fuck-off meal this evening… and what‟s more because they‟re paying
my considerable salary – I have to go. Shit. There‟s only one place I want to be and
that‟s in room 1114 with little Bella. Fuck – I need to get a message to her that I‟ll be
really late tonight… will she mind? Will she wait for me? I have no fucking idea… I
could ask her to come with me… but I immediately scrap that idea… Denali would not

take kindly to her presence.

“Eric, please can you track down Christabel Mallory? She works at the hotel where I‟m
staying and then come and find me wherever I am, I need to talk to her.” Eric nods

enthusiastically, as ever… “Oh… and good work with the cello.” I add. He grins.

At lunchtime I‟m in my trailer and he brings me a phone.

“Bella?”

“Hi Edward.” Fuck I‟ve never spoken to her on the phone before. I feel a wholly-out-of-

all-proportion thrill at hearing her voice and a ridiculous grin splits my face.

“How are you? What are you doing?

“I‟m fine and I‟m working,” she says and I can hear her amused smile.

“It‟s nice to hear your voice…”

“What do you want Edward?” She asks indulgently.

“You…”

She gasps softly and the noise goes straight to my dick.

“You‟ve had me… several times,” she whispers.

“Hmmm. Not nearly enough.”

Her breath hitches again… and I imagine the rosy glow over her cheeks.

“You‟re very distracting Mr Cullen.”

“As are you Miss Mallory.” Fuck I want to be with her.

“Edward,” she scolds me. “What do you want?”

“You, naked, playing your cello.”

She laughs and it‟s such a carefree, heart-warming, welcome home, fucking sound.

“I‟m not sure that Professor Banner would approve.”

“Professor Banner?”

“My cello tutor.” She gasps again... but it‟s not in a sexy way, it‟s with, shit … regret. In
that moment I know she‟s given me a piece of information, completely unconsciously

and she‟s wishing she hadn‟t. I bet she‟s biting her fucking lip.

“Stop biting your lip.” I scold her in the hope that I can recover some of her good mood.

“How do you know?” She‟s surprised. Good.

“Because I‟ve spent time with you Bella. Precious time.”

The AD comes and knocks on my trailer door signalling that they are ready on set for

me.

“Baby I have to go. I called because I have to go out tonight… it‟s a work thing… I won‟t
be back until late… but please come and stay.” She says nothing for what feels like an

age. What the fuck is she thinking?

“Okay,” she agrees eventually. Why is she so reluctant? Is she getting fed up with me?
Shit… the idea is so unpalatable that I dismiss it immediately from my mind. How is she

so fucking self-contained?

“I miss you. I‟ll see you later.” I hang up the phone before she can say anything else that
will muddle and confuse me. I wonder briefly if Eric has managed to get hold of a cell

phone number for her – I must remember to ask him.

The day drags. The atmosphere on the set is arctic. Denali fucking icequeen… she‟s such
hard work. I really will have to try and think of someway to patch things up with her –
we do have another three weeks of working together. Three more weeks in Las Vegas –
and then I have a break and I had planned to go back to London… but now… perhaps I

can persuade Bella to come with me…

The suits have decided to take us to an exclusive fucking bistro affair just off the strip.
Of course, the place is surrounded by fucking paps and rabid teens and shit - no doubt
this has been orchestrated for maximum publicity. I ride with Tanya, who, as usual,
looks beautiful – in an available, low cleavage, easy kind of way. She‟s wearing a short,
black dress and astonishingly high heels… why do women do this to themselves? We
don‟t speak directly to each other, but the director and two of the suits are with us in
our car. They manage to keep the conversation flowing and I don‟t think they can detect

that their leading lady and leading man detest each other.

As we clamber out of the car the flash photography and screaming starts. It‟s blinding
and deafening. I take Tanya‟s hand to help her out of the car – Well it‟s polite and kind
of expected of me and underneath it all I‟m a well brought up boy. She seizes her
opportunity. She snakes both her arms round me and she hugs me tightly posing for the
cameras. I‟m so taken by surprise that I look down at her, and she reaches behind my
head and kisses me hard on my lips. Bam… and I know these pictures will be all over

the fucking world in a few hours.

“Behave yourself,” I whisper through clenched teeth at her.

“Let‟s see what your little ho makes of that Cullen,” she snarls through a dazzling smile.

I take her arm and lead her, none to gently, into the restaurant – and then I remember

belatedly that she likes it rough. Shit.

Of course we‟re sat together and throughout the fucking meal she will not keep her
hands to herself. She‟s all over me like a fucking rash. It looks to all the world like she‟s
hanging on my every word, laughing slightly too hysterically at any joke I may make
and holding my hand on the table top. The suits love it… this is what sells fucking
cinema tickets. The waiters are hovering all over us refilling our glasses and Tanya is
taking full advantage and getting slowly trashed. I know I need my wits around me to

keep this lunatic off me… so I have one beer and then I stop. No doubt some sly fucker
in the restaurant is taking pictures of us with their camera phone… this is what I hate.
No fucking privacy anywhere… except my room – my fucking prison and my safe haven

too. Where Bella should be by now… I want to be there with her.

I know that if I say my goodnights… Tanya‟s going to want to travel back to the hotel
with me. And heaven knows what kind of trouble she‟ll cause then. She‟s fucking
dangerous sober… lethal when she‟s as trashed as this. The suits want to make a night
of it, which is fucking selfish as we all have to be up so early tomorrow. They want to go
to a club at one of the big hotels… good. This may be my opportunity to escape. Chris

the director is watching me.

“Do you want to go with the suits?” He mouths at me over the noise of us all leaving.

“No. I want out. I need sleep.”

He smirks at me.

“Me too… You guys go ahead, Ed and I need to discuss one of tomorrow‟s scenes.” He
says to the departing producer and by this time Denali is out of the door draped on the
arm of the head of the fucking studio himself and I actually feel myself relax for the first

time all evening.

“Thanks Chris.” I grin at him vowing to work with him again for saving me.

“She‟s hard work.” He agrees… “Beautiful though.”

I nod… because she is…

I sign a few autographs and pose with fans for camera phone fucking pictures and then

I‟m finally in a cab on my way back to Bella. It‟s been a long fucking day.

The big security guy who appeared when Bella and I were in the underground car park
is lurking outside my hotel room when I arrive. He nods at me and walks on patrolling
the corridor. Odd – I had no idea they did internal patrols too… I slip the key card into

the lock, begging internally that she‟ll be in the room.

My heart falls when I walk in… it‟s dark. She‟s not fucking here. Bugger. The whole day
has gone from bad to worse. And the most appalling aspect is that I want to go and find
her and drag her back here by her hair if necessary, but I have no idea where to go. I
wander disconsolately into the bedroom and she‟s curled up asleep in the bed. The main
lights are on but dimmed, very low… I can just make her out. She looks so small and
lost in the vast bed. Relief floods through me, blossoming in my chest and finally
calming me down. I stand over her and gaze down at her as she sleeps. I could look at

her forever. Soft clouds of dark hair, pale skin, small slim naked shoulders… Fuck
Cullen… get a grip. I really want to clamber in beside her and lose myself in her… I‟m
hard just thinking about it… but she‟s asleep, probably exhausted from the last couple

of nights and I need a shower before I‟m fit for human consumption.

As I stand in the shower washing the grime of Las Vegas off me I feel that all is right in
the world - and I know it‟s just because that slip of a bloody girl is asleep in my bed.
She‟s like the Radio 4 shipping forecast, or Big Ben‟s chimes, or some shit like that – it‟s
weird. Cullen you have fallen for your cello playing, 4x4 owning, mysterious as fuck
chambermaid… What are you going to do about it? Right now I‟m going to sleep beside
her… and I won‟t wake her up and have my wicked way with her even though I burn for
her… I will let her sleep because I love her. Shit… I‟m in love. Fuck… this is what it feels

like… fuck. Fucking dazzling...

I dry myself quickly anxious to be next to her and I slide into bed beside her. She shifts
as I lie down and turns into my arms. She‟s naked and soft against me…

“Hmmm,” she mumbles sleepily. “I missed you.” And she kisses me gently before
nuzzling her face against my chest - she inhales deeply. “You smell nice,” she mutters
and she kisses my chest, and she shifts slightly and she trails kisses down my stomach
to my belly. Whoa… what‟s this? She dips her tongue into my navel…

“Hmmm… you taste so good,” she says and then her tongue is making sweet fucking

patterns in my happy trail… shit. My breathing stops.

“Bella… what are you doing?”

“I want to taste you…” she says huskily and I swear I nearly come there and then.

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes…” she says and before I can stop her she‟s running her tongue up my dick.
Fuck… She grasps me, gently and then with no warning what so fucking ever I‟m inside
her hot, wet, sweet fucking mouth. My hips flex instinctively. Holy fuck… And she sucks
hard… shit on stick… I grab the duvet, clenching it hard in my fist. I do not want to
come in her mouth, and she sucks again… and again. Vaguely I wonder where did she
learn to do this? She starts twirling her tongue round me, and sucking and pushing me
deeper into her mouth… to the back of her throat… fucking hell… I have had some

blowjobs… but this… shit. I am losing all coherent thought.

“Bella…” I gasp… “I don‟t want to come in your mouth… please.” I beg.

She smiles around me… and I glance up at her… Sweet holy fuck… seeing her with my
dick in her mouth, her hair falling wild around her, smiling back at me all powerful and

sexy… it‟s intoxicating.

“Too bad Cullen…” she speaks with her mouth full and sucks hard again. Fuck… She
pushes down on me again but quicker this time and I feel the back of her throat and it
makes my hips flex into her. Shit I‟m fucking her mouth and it‟s so wrong but feels so
fucking right at the same time. She sucks hard and does the incredible tongue thing…
and pushes down and sucks and pushes down and sucks again and again. She‟s

remorseless.

“Please Bella…” I beg inarticulately – for what? I don‟t know any more.

She keeps going, relentless… my jaw is clenched, I am clutching the duvet with both
hands - shit I cannot hold on… and I erupt violently into her mouth, shouting my
release… sweet Christ on a bicycle… I shudder as she finishes up and she sits up staring

down at me looking so fucking pleased with herself. I gaze back at her in total awe.

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” I ask her without thinking, breathless,

vaguely angry…

She flushes… shit maybe I don‟t want to know.

“Well I was cleaning one of the rooms on this floor today and the guest had left the TV

switched on with some porno channel playing. It was very educational.”

I laugh as I imagine her glued to the TV... taking notes. Though I am appalled that she‟s
been exposed to fucking porn… my dick on the other hand is doing the fucking rumba
with glee. I pull her up and kiss her hard on the mouth, and I can taste myself on her

tongue. It‟s so fucking erotic.

“Bella, that was out of this world.” I murmur against her lips. And what I want to say is
that it‟s the best blowjob I‟ve ever had… but that doesn‟t seem right. “Now… what about
you… I think I owe you one orgasm… and I have one condom left before I need to get

some more.”

“Well you‟d better use it wisely…” she grins at me. Foxy fucking minx. I grab her and
she giggles as I press her down into the mattress…

-----------------

She lies across me utterly fucking spent. Like me. What a fan-fucking-tastic way to end

the day.

“Bella?” I whisper.

“Hmmm…”

“Will you wake me when you go in the morning… please. I hate waking up and you‟re

just gone…”

“Hmmm...”

I grin.

“Will you remember?”

“Hmmm…”

I kiss her hair softly. I love you Bella Mallory…

“Sleep well my love.” I sigh.

“Hmmm…”

~*~

Chapter Thirteen

I am blissfully asleep… except I can feel a gentle stroking on the side of my face. I
surface from whatever dream I‟m having…

“Bella?” She‟s kissing my sideburns. “Hmmm.”

“Good morning Edward. I‟ll see you later. Sleep now,” she murmurs and I fall back to
sleep. “Love you.” The words are whispered, floating into my consciousness and they

make me smile…

------------

When I wake I‟m in a much better mood than the previous day. She‟s gone, but I have a
vague recollection that she said goodbye and that she‟d see me later. I smile at the
thought. I drag on a clean t-shirt thinking that this laundry shit is a good idea, I pull on

my jeans and my old hoodie and stagger down to find Mike and the car.

Denali is subdued with a fuck awful hangover. I even feel slightly sorry for her and am
as accommodating on set as I can be. But at lunchtime I catch sight of some squalid rag

that is masquerading as a newspaper and Denali and I are locked in a clinch on the

front page under the dubious headline:

Tanward light up Las Vegas!

Over my dead fucking body, I think grimly. I pick the newspaper up and later ask Eric
to burn it. Shit… will Bella see it? I should have mentioned it last night… but then it was
late when I got in and she was kind of distracting… Yep… really fucking distracting. I

grin fondly at the memory.

“Cut. Edward… stay with us please.” Shit Chris is cross.

“Sorry.” Shit, focus… you‟ll see her soon enough.

“Take three.”

-------------

Later my agent calls and tells me that I have to attend a fucking awards ceremony in LA.

Interestingly it‟s scheduled for my day off in two weeks time.

“Taylor can I bring a guest.” Inspiration hits me.

“What, like a date?”

What is with Americans and fucking dating…? Besides I think Bella and I well… we‟re

way beyond dating… surely but what are we? I shake my head in confusion.

“Yes a date.”

“Tanya?”

“No… not fucking Tanya.”

“Who?”

“Can I or can‟t I bring a date?”

“Edward you can bring who you damn well please… when are you going to get it into

your head that you are the Edward fucking Cullen?” Not this rant again.

-------

I can‟t believe how the rhythm of my days has changed. I can just about drag myself off
on to location and I hope I‟m doing a good job on this film with the crazy bitch… I‟ve
only had a few lapses in concentration but really – my mind is totally locked in suite
1114. Mike is driving me back to the hotel and I have to stop grinning like a fucking idiot
because I‟m going to see her soon. I‟m wondering what disreputable sexual practice I
can introduce her to this evening… or maybe she can play the cello or we can sit and
watch a movie… Something old that I can switch off from and just enjoy and not sit and
analyse for fucking hours… hmmm, the possibilities are endless. Shit - thinking of
disreputable sexual practices I need more condoms. This is where Mike comes into his

own.

“Mike… would you mind stopping at a pharmacy and purchasing some condoms for
me.” It‟s so fucking annoying that I can‟t do this for myself… I can just imagine the
fucking headlines… Cullen has safe fucking sex. I shudder at the thought. Mike doesn‟t

bat a fucking eyelid.

“No problem Mr Cullen. Do you have a brand preference?”

“No… nothing odd… just normal condoms. Thanks.” He pulls up in the next block of

shops and I wait patiently in the car feeling five years old again…

Fuck, there seem to be more rabid teens than usual outside the hotel and they scream
mercilessly when I get out of the car. I give them a smile and a wave inwardly wishing

that they‟d just go home.

------

She normally gets to me about nine in the evening – so I order food for 9.15 for the two
of us and shower and change. We‟re having pizza – pizza night with movies. I scroll
through the completely bewildering choice of movies that the hotel has on offer… shit
I‟ll let Bella choose. I bet she hasn‟t watched many. She‟ll have been too busy practising
her cello over the years. I open a beer and at 9.15 our food arrives. No Bella. By 9.30 I
am uneasy. At 9.45 I am fucking climbing the walls. Where the fuck is she? I am
wearing a groove in the shag pile again. I seem to recall I was doing this a few days
ago… but she wasn‟t this late. The frustrating thing is that I can‟t contact her. Should I
call housekeeping? Is she okay? And suddenly I‟m besieged with visions of Bella
tripping up and bashing her head and passing out with concussion or some shit. She
could be dead in her little room somewhere in this fucking hotel. How fucking
frustrating is this? I‟ll give her another fifteen minutes. I pace and pace and the clock
crawls through fifteen minutes. Shit – something‟s wrong, deep down I know. A feeling
of dread spawns somewhere dark and ugly in my guts. Shit. Where is she? At 10.15 I call

Housekeeping, they‟ll know where she is. My call is answered before it rings twice.

“Good evening Mr Latymer. How can I be of service to you?”

Normally I have to suppress the puerile snicker that threatens to erupt whenever I use

this stupid fucking name, but I don‟t feel like laughing this evening.

“I haven‟t received my turn-down service tonight.” Shit. Would this get Bella into

trouble?

“I am so sorry Mr Latymer, let me see. Oh. I can see there‟s a problem. The young
woman who does your floor has had to leave early today for personal reasons. I am so

sorry. I‟ll send someone up to you now.”

“Oh… no that‟s fine. Don‟t worry. Thank you.”

“It really is no problem Mr Latymer.”

“No it‟s fine. Thanks.”

“You‟re welcome Mr Latymer. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Yanks are so
fucking polite – tell me where Bella is – I want to shout at the phone – but instead I

hang up with a hasty goodbye.

Leave for personal reasons…. she lives in the hotel, she has no family, why the fuck
would she leave? The dread expands slowly in my guts… fuck…something‟s not right.
What fucking personal reasons? Shit is she okay? Fuck – supposing she saw the
pictures of me and Denali… surely that wouldn‟t make her stay away… no – she‟d give

me a fucking hard time about them… possibly, but it wouldn‟t make her leave.

There‟s a knock on my door and my heart‟s in my mouth. I open the door and some
stranger chambermaid is standing there all plump and lovely, but she‟s not fucking

Bella.

“Turn-down service sir?” She asks stuttering slightly.

“Come in.”

She stares at me and is unable to move… oh shit… she‟s completely fucking star struck.

“Do you know Christabel Mallory… Bella?”

Little Miss Mute says fuck all.

“Yes… I‟m Edward Cullen, how do you do,” I check her name badge “Irina. I‟m looking

for Bella. Do you know her?” She stars at me with huge blue eyes.

Finally she nods. We‟re getting somewhere.

“Do you know where she is?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you know where her room is?”

She nods.

“Will you take me there?”

She frowns.

“I‟ll give you two hundred dollars if you do.” Mentally counting how much cash I have

in my wallet.

Irina glances down both ends of the corridor.

“Okay,” she says conspiratorially… the promise of financial gain galvanising her into

action.

She takes me to the service lift that I used with Bella on our day out and she takes us to
a mezzanine floor – which can‟t be accessed by guests between the ground and first
floors. The floor is totally devoted to the logistics of the hotel. Huge linen stores,
laundry, storage – it‟s all here. At the end of a very long corridor are rows of doors –

little bedrooms for the staff. She takes me to number M16.

“Bella‟s room.” She says.

The door is partially open and I step inside. There is just enough room for a small,
single cot bed. There‟s a tiny cupboard and a chair and that‟s it. The window looks out
on to the back of the hotel –near the air conditioning units. But the worst thing about

the room is that‟s it‟s stripped completely bare. There‟s nothing here. She‟s gone

~*~

Chapter Fourteen

I stand staring at the small space that was Bella‟s. As I do, I catch a faint hint of her
delicious wholesome fragrance in the room and I am left reeling, trying to accept the
evidence in front of me… she‟s fucking packed up and gone. I turn to Irina who‟s

hovering nervously in the doorway.

“You‟re sure this was her room?” Knowing full well that it was.

“Yes, Mr Cullen. I sleep three doors down from here.”

“Where‟s she gone?” And even to my own ears I sound like a fucking whining, small,

lost boy…

“I don‟t know Mr Cullen.”

“Who is her boss?”

“That‟s Miss Dwyer. She won‟t be here until tomorrow morning. Her office is on this

floor.”

“Listen Irina – if you find out any more let me know. I‟m in room 1114.”

I hand her two hundred dollars.

“I‟ll take you back Mr Cullen.”

“Thanks,” I mutter. As I turn something small on the floor catches the light. I bend
down and beside her bed I find one of Bella‟s gold sleeper earrings. I pick it up and put
it in my jeans pocket, then follow Irina out of the door. She took everything including
the cello and I‟m pleased on some level that wherever she is she‟ll have her music,
because I know how much it means to her. But on the whole what I really feel is just
fucking numb…. Where is she? Why has she gone? Why didn‟t she say goodbye? Irina
takes me back to the service lift and I‟m in a daze ignoring the stares from the staff.

She‟s fucking gone. I am finding this information so difficult to process.

When I‟m back in my room I ring reception.

“Hi this is Edward Cullen in Room 1114 – are there any messages for me?”

“No sir.”

“Any messages for Mr Latymer?”

“No sir.”

“Thank you.”

“You‟re welcome sir.”

I lie on my huge lonely bed staring at the ceiling. Where are you little Bella? Then I
remember - Eric… he called her. I fish out my mobile from my jeans and phone him. He

takes fucking forever to answer.

“Edward?” He mumbles sleepily.

“Hi Eric, err… sorry to wake you.”

“S‟okay.”

“When you contacted Christabel did you get a cell phone number for her?” I cross my

fucking fingers.

“No… I rang the hotel.” Disappointment washes through me.

“Oh okay… thanks, go back to bed. See you tomorrow.” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I should call the hotel manager… perhaps he can help… shit that would make you look a
complete arsehole Cullen… I feel so fucking helpless. How could she go without saying
goodbye? Is she okay? What‟s her fucking secret? How could she be so fucking cold not

to say goodbye? Did I mean nothing to her? This hurts the most.

My only hope is Miss Dwyer… Unconsciously my hand takes her small sleeper out of my

pocket and I stare at it… evidence that she fucking existed. Bella where are you?

I find it impossible to sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see two dark brown eyes
staring at me in awe, or closed in fucking ecstasy or red-rimmed, or laughing… shit. And

when I finally go to sleep … around two in the morning, when I dream… I dream of her.

-------

The fucking alarm goes off at 4.45 am as usual. Too fucking early. I feel like shit and
want nothing more than to roll over and sleep for another four fucking hours and forget
that there‟s a large Bella-shaped hole in my head, heart and fucking soul. Where is she?
But I‟m being paid an obscene amount of money to get up at this fucking time of the
morning… so I heave my sorry arse out of bed and drag on the nearest clothes I can

find… I don‟t care that they‟re not clean.

Mike is waiting in the blacked-out Merc, Mike is always fucking patiently waiting…

He frowns when he sees me, his brows knitting together with concern, but like the old
wise soul that he is he says nothing. He sets off smoothly to location and I can close my

eyes for another precious thirty minutes… and think of her.

Eric‟s bright smile vanishes the moment he sees me. He hands me my coffee and waits

for instruction, very perceptively staying absolutely quiet.

“I need to speak with a Mrs Dwyer who works at the hotel… she‟ll probably start around
nine. Get hold of her and then find me…” Eric nods. “Oh and get me some cigarettes.” I

realise I haven‟t smoked for a few days…

Laurent in wardrobe is not his usual over the fucking top effusive self. He takes one look
at me, says nothing and gets me dressed and out in a matter of minutes. I head over to
make-up and both Siobhan and Kate the make-up girls are wary of me… and get on with
their work quickly and efficiently and get me out of their trailer as soon as they can. Yep
I can be a real fucking monster if I want to be… Even Tanya doesn‟t push it. I snap at

her once and it‟s enough for her to know she shouldn‟t push me… today.

“Something wrong with your little friend, Cullen?” she purrs.

“Fuck Off Denali!” She raises her eyebrows at me and I can see she‟s fucking dancing

inside but I don‟t give a flying fuck.

Eric brings me the phone at 9.15.

“Miss Dwyer.” He mouths…. we are between slates waiting for the director of

photography to get his fucking act together for a complicated set up…

“Hello Miss Dwyer, my name is Edward Cullen I‟m staying in suite 1114.”

“Mr Cullen, what can I do for you?” I can the hear surprise and curiosity in her voice.

“Christabel Mallory, where is she?”

Miss Dwyer takes a sharp breath and pauses.

“Miss Mallory no longer works for us.”

“Was she fired?”

“I‟m really not at liberty to discuss that Mr Cullen.”

Perhaps she‟d been found out… her fraternising with me….

“Do you have a forwarding address for her.”

“No Mr Cullen.”

“A phone number.”

“No Mr Cullen.”

“Surely as an ex-employee you‟ll have some details.” I am trying so hard to keep my

temper.

“No Mr Cullen, not in Miss Mallory‟s case. I‟m sorry I really can‟t help you.”

She‟s fucking keeping something from me… I can tell.

“Please, Miss Dwyer, I really do need to get in contact with her.”

“Mr Cullen, in all honesty, I just don‟t know where she is… I‟m sorry I can‟t help you.”
and her voice on this occasion has a ring of sincerity to it… fuck, fuck, fuck… is she in on

the secret too?

“I know there‟s some big secret surrounding her Miss Dwyer, I‟d really appreciate your

help.”

“Mr Cullen…” she pauses. “As much as I‟d like to, I really can‟t help you. I really don‟t

know where she is and I have no way of contacting her.”

I contemplate bribery… it worked yesterday with Irina… but I can tell by the finality in
her voice that my quest is futile. Fuck. She‟s a fucking jobsworth – sticking to some

script. Shit, shit, shit. Or maybe she really doesn‟t know Cullen…

I am a beast all day. A complete fucking arsehole, growling at everyone… I can see

myself doing it… but I just don‟t fucking care. Where the fuck is Bella?

I get Eric to ring the hotel every thirty minutes to see if there are any messages for me….
but he draws a complete blank. I smoke the entire packet of cigarettes and send Eric off
for more. Poor sod… he‟s really bearing the brunt of my unbelievably foul mood. The
only person who‟s pleased with me today is Chris the fucking director…brooding and

bad-tempered is what he wanted… and I give it to him in fucking spades.

Mike is quiet on the drive back to the hotel. I stare out of the darkened windows at the
bright lights on the strip. There are couples out enjoying themselves, walking hand in

hand, laughing, hugging, kissing… fuckers.

When I get into my room I head straight for the mini-bar and open a bottle of whisky. I
open the balcony doors, and sit down outside in the cooling Las Vegas air, listening to
the sounds of the city, drinking scotch, smoking fags and wanting to howl at the fucking

moon. Where the fuck is she?

I‟m really feeling the effects of the whiskey when I hear a soft knock at the door.

Fuck… my heart starts pounding. I leap up and practically trip up over my own feet…
how fucking Bella… but to my huge disappointment it‟s Irina at the door offering a turn-

down service.

“Any news of Bella?” I ask.

She shakes her head sadly,

“Her disappearance has taken us all by surprise.”

“Why do you think she‟s gone?” I ask… in the back of my mind I can‟t help the thought

that she may have been fired…

“We just don‟t know. Don‟t think she was fired though. She was good at her job.”

Hmmm… very fucking good.

“Thanks Irina.” I shut the door.

I slide down the door and put my head in my hands. Get a fucking grip Cullen. She‟s
gone, she was lovely… but she‟s gone. Just forget about her. I shake my head, and not
bothering to shower, or brush my fucking teeth even, I collapse into bed fully clothed

and fall into a restless, missing something kind of sleep … and again… I dream of her.

Day two of no Bella and I sit brooding in my trailer, nursing a hangover and replaying
all my conversations with her in my head, trying to look for some clue as to where she
might be. I come up with nothing. I am foul all day and everyone gives me a wide berth.
I‟m not sure if it‟s because of my mood or my lack of personal hygiene – but I don‟t give
a flying fuck. How Eric manages to maintain his fucking zen calm I have no idea… I
need someone to shout at… and it‟s him. He does come up trumps though when I send
out for a fucking good acoustic guitar… I sit in my trailer all day – except when I‟m

needed on set – and fucking strum the fucker…

That night I watch mindless fucking TV… with a few beers. Irina has no news. There are
no messages… and I spend another night tossing and turning as I try to sleep and when

I do sleep she‟s all over my fucking dreams again.

I sleepwalk through day three… I am extraordinarily concerned about her - it‟s nagging
at me constantly. Is she okay? What forced her to leave? I have no idea. I feel betrayed
and abandoned and this makes me angry. Angry at her for fucking disappearing without
so much as a good fucking bye and angry at myself for giving a fuck... Giving more than
a fuck... Shit I miss her... I really fucking miss her. And though I know so little about her
she was just so easy to be with, funny, sexy as hell, bright, musical - really good
company. With her I felt I could be myself... and it‟s been so long since I felt like that.

Before all the fucking madness… Where the fuck are you Bella? I love you and I miss

you.

Day Four of no fucking Bella I decide to take action. I start with a fucking shower in the

morning, even I can‟t stand my own stink this morning.

I ring Taylor from the car.

“Jeez Ed do you know what the time is?”

“I need you to find someone for me.”

“What?”

“I said I need you to find someone for me.”

“Edward, we‟re not in the people-finding business, we‟re in representation.”

“For fuck‟s sake you‟re taking twelve-and-a-half-percent of my fucking salary, get one of
those fucking twig-like blonds that are probably fellating you as we speak to pick up the
fucking phone and make some fucking calls. I‟d do it myself but I‟m busy and I‟m not
from around here so I don‟t know how the fucking system works.” I shout at him.

I see Mike raise his eyebrows slightly in the rear view mirror of the car.

“Okay, Ed, please calm down.” I‟ve got his fucking attention.

“Don‟t fucking tell me to calm down…”

“Jeez give me some details.”

I give him Bella‟s name and where she was working.

“She was your chambermaid… Oh Ed… if you need a girl I can get you girl in any outfit

you want.”

“I don‟t want any fucking girl – I want this one… find her.” Shit I am in full fucking
toddler tantrum mode now… I press the stop button on my phone and gaze out at the

Las Vegas dawn. Where the fuck are you Bella?

~*~

Chapter Fifteen

It‟s been four days since I went ballistic at Taylor. Four days of no news, four days of
more waiting, four days of fucking frustration. Four days of the fucking senior producer
hovering over me concerned that their fucking investment is going off the rails. He‟s
been helicoptered in from his fat fucking LA office to keep an eye on me and keep me
happy – just what I fucking don‟t need. I wish he‟d just leave me alone. I mean, he‟s a
nice bloke – but he‟s all Armani suits, fast fucking cars, blonde surgically enhanced
cheer leader types and cocaine... it‟s just not my fucking scene. And to top it all his
conversation doesn‟t extend beyond movies and fucking American sports which I know
nothing about. He‟s fucking boring… quite frankly and I just don‟t understand why he‟s
been sent to mind me. Chris is delighted with the dailies – and all the studio head

honchos are ecstatic.

I‟m behaving on set… Denali and I have reached some kind of Entente Cordiale… she‟s
not made any further passes at me… but I think that‟s because our small cast has been
enhanced by Jacob Black who plays her adopted brother in the film… he‟s cool, young,
good-looking – next big thing and I think Tanya is working at getting her little old claws
into him. Good luck to them I say, at least it takes that pressure off me. I just want to
get this fucking film finished so I can find Bella… if nothing else – just to tell her how

fucking pissed off I am at her, for not saying goodbye.

The worst day is my day off… it‟s long and lonely and I spend most of it sleeping… and
dreaming about her. She haunts me… in my dreams, in my waking life, she‟s fucking
there, like a thorn from a paw-paw… invisible but fucking painful when I think about

her. She‟s been gone for over a week, and I still miss her. Get a fucking grip Cullen.

Part of me worries that something fucking awful as happened to her… kidnapped,
white-slaved to somewhere horrendous or some shit like that. She‟d have no one… apart
from me, who‟d miss her. This is what happens when you‟re alone in the world and all
the people who are supposed to unconditionally love you are gone. She‟s lost her folks,
her grandmother. She has no one. This is what keeps me awake most nights. Is she
okay…? And this is what makes me most angry… that she doesn‟t have the fucking
courtesy to know that I‟d worry… and just let me know she‟s okay. In these dark
moments… I think she just didn‟t care about me at all. Maybe I was just some trophy
fuck… but why would one waste one‟s virginity on a fucking some celebrity… it makes

no fucking sense to me…

I have sought solace in my guitar. I have written four songs… funnily enough - all
fucking laments about lost love and missing sweethearts… Well at least something

creative is coming out of this fucking frustrating time.

Later that morning, whilst I‟m on set, Taylor calls my mobile.

“Your little mystery girl.”

“You‟ve found her?” My heart lurches in my chest, and I‟ve got butterflies in my

stomach, adrenaline pouring through my system…

“No such luck Ed. Christabel Mallory does not exist. No social security number, no
address, not in the telephone directory, not registered to vote – anywhere in the US…

Looks like your girl was lying to you about her name…”

What… Fuck, lying about her name… what else did she lie about? I have to fucking find

her. Shit… I don‟t even know her name…

“Look Taylor, hire a private detective… I‟ll pay… find her.”

“Edward,” Taylor pauses “Maybe she doesn‟t want to be found?”

“I think that‟s fucking obvious… Just find her – please.”

“It‟s your money.” He hangs up.

I sleep better that night. I have a private detective trying to find the elusive little Bella. I
feel like I‟m doing something… though of course I’m not… but the feeling of impotence
that I‟ve had, because I‟m stuck in the fucking desert doing this film and not fucking

looking for her, is not quite as fucking all consuming as usual.

Two days later he calls again.

“Edward the FBI may be in touch with you.”

Shit… What the fuck have I done?

“Why?”

“It‟s about your mystery girl.”

“Bella, shit – have you found her? Is she okay?” Dread spawns mean and ugly in my

guts… fuck…

“No, sorry Edward. Our private eye has been very firmly warned not to pursue the case.
He‟s come back to us and told us that the feds have informed him that he will end up in

jail if he continues…”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means he‟s off the case, Edward. She‟s disappeared and for whatever reason, she‟s

staying disappeared. The Feds must have her.”

Shit – maybe she was an escaped felon or something…. Christ poor Bella… my mind is

reeling…

I sit in my trailer trying to make sense of this new information. Nothing that Bella said
to me indicated that she was in trouble with the law… but involved with the Feds… I so
don‟t understand American law enforcement… there‟s the FBI, local police, sheriffs,
Homeland Fucking Security, US Marshals… fucking hell… I‟ll have to get the laptop out
and do some fucking massive fuck-off search on Google and try and understand how it
all works. My knowledge of the FBI is entirely grounded in the movies and what I
watched on the fucking the X-Files when I was a kid… maybe Bella‟s an alien… Fuck it

Cullen get a grip.

Mike is driving me back to the hotel. I have another day off tomorrow and it looms

empty and unappetising in front of me.

“Mike, do you get a day off when I‟m not working?”

“Yes Mr Cullen.”

“Do you live in Las Vegas?”

“Yes Sir – all my life.”

“Are you married?”

“Yes Sir, fifteen years.”

This is impressive.

“Do you have kids?”

“Two Sir… daughters.”

“Really?” This is the first I‟ve heard of this.

“Thirteen and Fourteen… and both deeply in love with you Sir.”

I laugh for the first time in fucking ages.

“God how awful for you.”

“Yes Sir. It is Sir.”

“What are their names?”

“Sallie and Anne-Marie, Sir.”

“So it‟s you and a bunch of women in your household.”

“Yes Sir… even the dog is a bitch sir.”

“Fuck me… no wonder you work such long hours.”

“Yes sir…” And I think he smiles slightly.

I stare out of the window absorbing life on the Las Vegas strip, staring at the passing

shops and people walking the streets and I fucking freeze.

“Mike stop the car… stop the fucking car!” I shout.

“Sir?” Mike is alarmed and he pulls up.

We are passing an electrical goods shop which has about fifty TVs of all shapes and sizes
on display in the shop window. And on every single one of them, looking fucking small,
pale and serious, seated and surrounded by fake fucking wood, like she‟s in a courtroom
dock or some such shit is someone who doesn‟t exist… the beautiful, elusive Christabel

Mallory.

~*~

Chapter Sixteen

Before Mike has stopped the car I am out and running like fuck into the shop. Bella is
on every single fucking TV screen I can see. The shop fortunately has no customers and
I run up to one of the screens… none of the TVs has the sound turned on… Fuck. And
then she‟s gone and I am watching a fucking news program and the next item is up. I
scan the shop in a panic. A young blond man wearing a grubby Metallica t-shirt is
sitting reading a gaming magazine behind a shop counter. He glances up uninterestedly

as I rush up to him. Inspiration hits me.

“Do you have a Tivo up and running that is recording this TV programme now?” I

babble at him. He‟s staring at me, recognition illuminates his face… shit.

“You‟re that guy, that British guy who was in that film…”

“No I just bear a really uncanny resemblance to him. Do you have a Tivo recording this
news programme?” And I have to restrain myself from dragging him over the shop

counter and beating him to a pulp.

“Sure.” He frowns, not believing my denial and he just fucking sits there staring…. Fuck.

“Where is it? I want to see the news item… Please.” I annunciate as clearly and slowly as

my disintegrating temper will allow. Get a fucking move on, moron.

“Yeah, yeah… sure.” He gets up and ambles at a snail‟s fucking pace, over to one of the
TVs on the wall. Beneath it is a Tivo. He reaches behind a small panel and pulls out the

remote and rewinds the live broadcast.

“How far back do you want to go?”

“Just five minutes or so.”

He stops the rewind and presses play. An attractive African-American newsreader is
perched behind a sleek modern desk speaking to camera. Behind her is a photo
montage of three men and the words „Volturi Brothers On Trial‟. She‟s saying

something but I can‟t hear it.

“Sound?” I ask, inside I‟m screaming… for fucks sake - I try not to look too exasperated

at the hapless twat.

“Sure yeah.” He turns the volume up – and he‟s still gaping at me like the moron he is…

…. key prosecution witness began her testimony today in the trial that will expose the
rotten core of the Big Apple. All three men are accused of murdering undercover cop
Beth Masen. Detective Masen was investigating the brothers’ alleged involvement in a
sex trafficking ring when her body was discovered in a Manhattan alley behind the
Good Faith Shepherd Church and the Julliard School where Isabella Swann is a
student. She witnessed the crime and has been held by US Marshals for over seven

months in protective custody awaiting the trial.

Fuck… Isabella fucking Swann. I didn‟t even know her fucking name. She‟s in New

York… fuck…

The trial, which is taking place at the New York Supreme Court, is expected to last two

weeks. And news just in from Atlanta…

The news item changes to something else. She‟s in fucking New York. I stand gawping

at the TV and Mr Metallica t-shirt is still gawping at me. Fuck… New York.

“You are that guy.”

“Err… yeah.” I agree not paying any attention. I have to go New York… now. I have a
day off tomorrow… now I have something to do. I‟m going to confront the lying little

madam.

“Thanks…” I mutter to Mr grubby fucking t-shirt and I wander in a daze back out of the

shop to the car and climb in.

“Mike… take me to the airport.”

“Mr Cullen?”

“Yeah, I need to go to New York… now.”

Mike frowns.

“Are you okay Mr Cullen?” Over the past few weeks this is the first time Mike has asked

me if I‟m okay.

“I‟m fine…” Shocked… dazed… fucking confused. “Please take me to the airport.”

“No problem Mr Cullen.”

-----------

I cannot remember the last time I made my own fucking travel arrangements. Mike is
so nervous about letting me go on my own into such a public space that he's parked up
and joined me. Sometimes I feel like I‟m two years old... I pull my hoodie over my hair

and try and look less tall. But I hear the whispers anyway.

“There's Edward Cullen.”

“It's him, it's him.”

“He‟s so tall…”

"He's so gorgeous."

I keep my head down and follow Mike as he makes his way towards one of the ticket

desks.

“This one has the next flight, Mr Cullen,” he mumbles, keeping a wary eye on everyone.
Oh fuck... This is such a fucking pain… it‟s so fucking scary when everyone is looking at

you. I‟m waiting for the care-in-the-community nutter who‟s going to fucking shoot me
or some shit because he doesn‟t like one of the shirts I fucking wear in one of my
movies. There are no guns in airports these days, I keep whispering to myself as a kind
of mantra. We‟ll be okay… we‟ll be okay. But we’re in the Land of the Free and the

Home of the N. R fucking A…. My paranoia knows no bounds.

“Edward, Edward,” a young girl with red hair and braces on her teeth bounces up to me.
“I love you, can I have a picture?” She cannot be older than thirteen. I smile indulgently

and quickly pose with her.

“I'm in a hurry I‟m afraid.” I whisper to her.

She flushes a beetroot shade of red, reminding of one little lying fucker who‟s in New
fucking York and I shake the image of Bella all pale as fuck in some court room out of
my head. Fortunately little Miss Redhead is the only one brave enough to accost me so I

make it to the ticket desk without any further fan encounters.

The young woman behind the desk is completely fucking thrown when she glances up at
me. She recognises me instantly. She's cute in a cool icy blond kind of way. She has

enormous blue eyes.

“It‟s you,” she squeaks and blushes to her roots… shit. Does everyone suddenly flush

like Bella Mallo… Swann?

“Yes it's me,” I agree and decide dazzling the girl will get me on whichever flight I want

so I give her the full Cullen, all teeth, fuck off smile.

Her mouth drops open... - she's so mine.

“I need a ticket to new York on the next available flight leaving tonight, preferably

business class. Can you help?”

“Yes Mr Cullen,” she breathes and for one awful moment I thinks she‟s going to faint.
She takes a deep breath and seems to collect herself and she concentrates on her

computer terminal.

“I can get you on the nine o‟clock. It arrives at midnight...it's direct to La Guardia, you‟ll

have to hurry to the gate Mr Cullen.”

“Fine.” I smile – all teeth.

“I'll upgrade you to first class, compliments of the airline,” and she flutters her

eyelashes at me.

“Thank you,” I say graciously, continuing to smile at her.

I hand her my credit card. Poor dear is shaking like a fucking leaf.

“Please sign here Mr Cullen…” She says and her voice is getting fucking huskier... “Do

you have any luggage to check in?”

“No.”

She hands me my boarding card.

“Gate 12 Mr Cullen… hurry.”

“Thank you…” I glance at her nametag, “Esme.” Like my mother.

“It‟s a pleasure Mr Cullen.” She practically fucking swoons.

Mike and I head toward the gate.

“Mike I‟ll be fine. Go home to your wife and daughters… you should bring the girls to

the set one day.”

Mike flushes slightly.

“I may do that Mr Cullen. Good luck.” He says. We shake hands and I make my way to

gate twelve.

-------

I have a large vodka and orange in my hand courtesy of the first class service. I sit back

in my over large airline seat and call Eric.

“Edward?” He picks up on the second ring.

“Eric, I need a car to pick me up at La Guardia airport meeting flight number 415 from
McCarran. I need a hotel room near the New York Supreme Court, wherever that is, for

tonight. Oh and some clean clothes.”

“Yes Edward. Would you like me to arrange some security?”

“No – just get me the car and the room. Text me when it‟s sorted.”

“Yes Edward. Will that be all?”

“Yes Eric… thanks.”

“You‟re welcome Edward.”

I hang up. What the fuck would I do without Eric?

The air stewardess gives me the Las Vegas Sun and I leaf through it in the hope that
there might be a report on the trial… but there‟s nothing only local news. I ask her for a
New York Times… and there she is on the front cover, Isabella fucking Swann… liar
extraordinaire… I read the article. It‟s big fucking news. The Volturi brothers sound a
particularly unsavoury, murderous bunch of bastards. From Albania and involved in
some dreadful fucking scam luring young women to America with the promise of work
and green cards and then trafficking them throughout the city of New York as sex

slaves… Fuck. And little Bella Swann is the star fucking witness…

I feel the familiar anger... Why couldn‟t she call me? Tell me she was okay? I can‟t have
meant anything to her… Why am I going to see her if that‟s the case? Well I‟m going to

ask her to her face, find out the fucking truth.

I lean back in my airline seat, swig down the vodka and ask for another. It‟s a six hour

fucking flight…

-------

The cab pulls up outside a luxury hotel in Tribeca. Eric has done well. Of course I have
to go through all the PR nonsense and the PR girl, all in clingy black with enormous tits
and a fuck-off tight skirt … shows me to my suite. It‟s all very classy, sleek, modern, bed
the size of Nebraska – usual fucking stuff - it looks like every other fucking hotel I stay
in and I‟m fucking tired and I want to go to bed. PR babe doesn‟t hover and she leaves

me to it… thank fuck.

I lie in my enormous bed and all that is running through my head is Bella‟s small sad
pale face in the witness dock… fuck I‟ll see her tomorrow. What the fuck am I going to

say to her?

~*~

Chapter Seventeen

I have made it up the extraordinarily impressive steps of the Supreme Court building
without being recognised and I‟m beginning to regret not having breakfast, but this
morning all I could stomach was black coffee. Now I have to face her… I just have to get

through fucking security first.

“Remove your hat and sunglasses please Sir,” the middle-aged security officer asks
before I walk through the metal detectors. I take off my New York Yankees baseball cap
and remove the Ray Bans… and nobody raises a fucking eyelid. Yippee fucking do… I‟ve
made it into the courthouse and into the opulent rotunda with the fuck-off marble floor
and Sistene Chapel domed ceiing that all the courts lead off. Now which fucking court? I
see the sign. Court number three New York City vs Volturi. A court official stands
outside the closed door, protecting it.

“Can I go in?” I ask.

She stares at me… shit… recognition.

“Yes Mr Cullen,” she says blinking rapidly and opens the door. “Seats to your right.”

“Thank you.”

I slip through the door and stand at the back of the courtroom, my eyes immediately
drawn to her. The court is in session and all I can hear are the rustling of papers,
occasional coughs and the questions that the prosecuting attorney is asking little Bella. I
cross my arms defensively over my chest staring at her. I cannot take my eyes off her.
She‟s so small and slight on the witness stand – I haven‟t seen her in nearly two weeks
and she looks like she‟s lost weight. She‟s dressed in a little baby-blue jumper and she
keeps her head down at a slight angle, staring at her hands in her lap. Occasionally she
sweeps a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. She‟s so pale and her voice is soft and
quiet. Fuck. She looks so fucking vulnerable, and my heart starts fucking pounding like
it wants out of my chest and my scalp prickles uncomfortably forcing me to drag my

hand through my hair. I‟m glad I‟m leaning against the back wall to support me.

I don‟t feel the huge swathe of relief I thought I‟d feel. The more I stare the angrier and

angrier I become. This is what she kept from me. Why? I just don‟t understand.

For all our intimacy… it meant nothing if she couldn‟t confide in me. She‟s been in
hiding for months… she‟s on her own. Why couldn‟t she let me in? She‟d let me have her
enticing, irresistible, beautiful body - the muscles in the pit of my belly clench at the
delicious memory, pissing me off further - but that was it, nothing else. Why? I didn‟t
even know her fucking name. Fuck… I am seething. And it takes all my fucking will not
to bound up the court aisle and drag out of the witness box and demand a fucking

explanation.

Suddenly she glances up and our eyes meet. Dark, dismayed, wide brown eyes staring
into blazing fucking green. She pales, really fucking blanches - I think she‟s going to
faint… and I‟m used to seeing her flushed, rosy cheeked… not this fucking

alabaster…and she bites her little pouty lip… fuck.

She swallows and blinks – like she can‟t believe I‟m standing there watching her. The
defence attorney asks her a question but she doesn‟t hear him. She‟s staring at me, she
cannot look away and I can see her recoil slightly. Oh yeah she knows I’m fucking

pissed off.

And everyone slowly turns to see what she‟s staring at, even the three evil fuckers in the
dock… the brothers Grim or whatever they‟re called… shit… everyone is gazing at me…
and I can hear the low level excited buzz around the courtroom as my secret vigil is
exposed and my name‟s whispered in the air. Fuck… this was already a fucking media
circus and it‟s about to get worse. She recovers and turns to the attorney to ask him to

repeat the question.

The judge leans forward and asks her a question. She flushes… finally - thank fuck,
restoring her colour. She shakes her head and glances very quickly at me and then looks

down at her hands.

“Excuse me.” A court official appears beside me and whispers. “You‟ll have to sit.”

“Sorry, thanks.” I mutter and head for an empty chair that is at the end of the back row,
an aisle seat with direct line of sight to her… I never take my eyes off her. I am drinking
her in… in spite of my anger and I don‟t ever remember being this fucking angry… I love
her… stupid fucking fool that I am. Heading for my first ever broken fucking heart. She

obviously doesn‟t give a flying fuck about me.

Heads keep turning to stare at me, but I ignore them. To my left a man in a dark suit
leaps up and exits the courtroom, followed by four other people. Belatedly I realise it‟s
the press bench. Shit… Two more people leave. The judge looks up and bangs his gavel.

He‟s not happy with the to-ing and fro-ing… and he stares darkly at the press benches.

The trial continues and I listen vaguely to what‟s being said. Mostly I listen to Bella, her
soft, clear, quiet voice and I build a mental picture of the hideous events that have led

her here.

She‟d been coming home from a late rehearsal at Julliard. Of course she‟s at the best
fucking music school in the US… even I‟ve heard of it… I‟ve heard her play. Does she
still have her cello…? My thoughts wander, before I concentrate on her evidence again.
She‟d heard an argument in a dark fucking alley and had gone to investigate… stupid
little… the tentative hold I have on my fucking temper nearly slips hearing this. Fucking
hell I want to put her across my fucking knee and spank the shit out of her…

She saw all three of the fuckers in the dock shoot the poor woman – all of them, how
fucking macabre. As she recalls this nasty memory, she pauses and asks for some water.
Shit… I feel sick to my fucking stomach that little Bella witnessed such a horrible crime

and I want to run up and scoop her into my arms and hold her, shake her, beat the crap

out of her, kiss her… mostly kiss her. But I want a fucking explanation first…

Finally the judge calls for a recess for lunch and everyone stands. I follow suit as he
exits the courtroom for his chambers. Bella leaves too, with one quick, over fucking
anxious glance in my direction. She‟s with the big black bloke from hotel security… I
frown - Oh her fucking security, you idiot Cullen – all the time she had her own fucking
minders. The courtroom empties slowly, people shuffling past me staring as I sit back
down and suddenly I‟m besieged by fucking journalists, hovering around me, like
fucking wasps at a bank holiday picnic, hurling questions at me. Shit Cullen you should

have anticipated this. I stand and start backing up to the main exit.

“Mr Cullen, why are you here?”

“What interest do you have in this case Mr Cullen?"

“Are you here as research for your next role Mr Cullen?”

“How are things on the set of „Power‟?”

I stare at all these journalists bemused. What the fuck should I say? I‟m in love with the
key witness… I thought she was my fucking chambermaid but she disappeared suddenly
one day and she‟s led me a merry fucking dance since. They wave fucking tape recorders
in my face waiting for answers. I thought they were here to report on the fucking trial -

Not me for fucks sake.

“I have no comment to make.” I mumble and try to think where I can go to escape this

baying mob of fucking jackals and how I can see Bella.

“Mr Cullen, how are you and Tanya Denali getting on?”

“Is it true she‟s having your baby?”

“Tanya and I are great friends. We‟ve always been great friends.” Fuck… get out of this

Cullen… shit.

The big black bloke from Bella‟s security detail makes his way through the crowd. He

grabs my shoulder.

“Will you follow me Sir?” He asks, the crowd parts around him. He is one big
motherfucker.

“Gladly,” I follow him to the front of the courtroom and through the same little door
that Bella has exited. The court officials are keeping the journalists back. Out of the

fucking frying pan… Where the fuck is he taking me?

“Thanks for rescuing me. Are you Emmett or Jasper?” I ask.

“Emmett McCarty, US Marshal. Pleased to meet you Mr Cullen.” He shakes my hand
and grins at me. He has one warm son-of-a-bitch smile. I like him immediately. We are
in a long corridor and he walks me to a closed door to what I assume is a small office.
Outside another US Marshal leans against the wall arms crossed. He looks mean and

fucking moody. What the fuck is his problem?

“Jasper?” I ask.

“Jasper Hale.” He nods but does not smile or offer his hand… I can tell immediately
that he does not like me… Hmmm, interesting, the feeling is definitely mutual but I

wonder what does he have against me? So - we have good cop and bad cop.

“She‟s in there Mr Cullen. She‟s anxious to talk to you. The prosecution attorney also
wants to talk to her, so you don‟t have long…” Emmett says. “Go easy on her… she‟s had

a pretty rough time.” I raise my eyebrow at him. Well it‟s about to get fucking rougher…

~*~

Chapter Eighteen

I open the door and she‟s sat shrinking and fearful on some institutional, shitty, fake
wood chair, behind an equally fake wood table. She sits up all wide-eyed, radiating
anxiety when I walk in, biting her lower lip. Her eyes follow me warily as I sit down

opposite her. I don‟t take my eyes off her. I can‟t take my eyes off her.

“Hello, I‟m Edward Cullen.” I say by way of introduction. “I don‟t believe we‟ve met.”
And even to my own ears I sound like a cold callous bastard, but I don‟t care. I am so

fucking angry with her.

She flinches… and closes her eyes, scrunching up her forehead slightly as if in pain.

“Isabella Swann.” I say… “It‟s not a difficult name to remember.”

“Bella,” she says opening her big brown beautiful eyes and correcting me automatically

and in spite of my wholly fucked-off shitty mood, my lip twitches in amusement.

“You look mad,” she says in a small voice. Thank you for reminding me.

“Mad in the American sense of really, really fucking angry?” I shout as I slap my hand
down on the table. Fuck that stings. I can feel my eyes blazing at her and she jumps and
recoils at the loud noise my hand makes, “Or mad in the British sense of being driven
fucking insane... with worry, doubt, rejection.” My voice almost breaks on the last word.

Fuck we‟re cutting to the chase quicker than I anticipated.

The door opens and Marshal Hale pokes his fucking curly blond head round the door.

He looks way too scruffy to be an officer of the law.

“Okay Bella?” He asks oozing warm fucking charm and concern, fucker…

She shakes her head and glares at him dismissing him. He frowns imperceptibly and

then glowers briefly at me and shuts the door. Yeah fuck off!

I have got to calm down…

“You never even said goodbye.” I say quietly through clenched teeth.

“I‟m sorry,” she says and I can see tears pooling in her eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I won‟t be

able to hang on to my anger if she fucking cries and I don‟t know what I‟ll have left.

“Sorry.” I say with scorn because I just can‟t fucking help myself. “Bella, I‟ve been going

crazy. I had no idea what happened to you. Not one phone call, postcard – nothing.”

She flushes and looks down at her hands, chewing her lovely bottom lip.

“Fucking hell Bella, you gave me your virginity. Why? Was it an-I‟ve-fucked-Edward-

Cullen-moment for you? Some trophy fuck? Is that what I was to you?”

She gasps and flinches again,

“No Edward,” and it‟s the first time she‟s said my name in nearly two weeks and it goes
right fucking through me. “It wasn‟t like that… please. Please don‟t be so angry with

me.” And her tears start to run down her cheeks… fuck.

“Well tell me how it was then – „cos that‟s how it looks to me. You didn‟t even tell me
your name.” I whisper… I can‟t shout at her if she‟s fucking crying, but a small
vindictive part of me is almost enjoying seeing her pain… Fucking hell, I‟ve suffered for

the last two weeks. And then I feel like a complete and utter bastard - Cullen get a grip.

“Please don‟t spoil it… Edward, it was… everything I could possibly want… I never

expected to fall… it‟s just been so difficult.” She‟s babbling, grasping for words.

“Is there someone else?” The image of the fucking scruffy bastard standing outside the
door comes to mind and a feeling of panic overwhelms me, that‟s why I don‟t like him…
he wants her too, I see it now, the warm possessive concern he has for her and I almost
choke up thinking that she could have given her fucking traitorous, delectable little
body to someone else, she‟s Mine… I want to shout. “Have I given you a taste for it?” I

lash out at her.

Her head jerks up and it‟s like I‟ve slapped her.

“No.” Her cry is anguished. “How can you say something like that…? I‟ve not been…”
she stops and puts her head in her hands. Suddenly her head shoots up and she glares

at me, finding some backbone,

“What about you and Tanya Denali… I saw pictures of you and her at that dinner you
went to… and then you came back to your hotel - to me…” Fuck she did see those

fucking pictures. I squirm uncomfortably.

“That was entirely for your benefit Bella, Denali jumped on me and then told me as
much – it was her revenge for me kicking her out of my room. She hoped that you‟d
enjoy the photos. You can believe what you want… but that‟s the truth…” I try to sound

off-hand like I don‟t give a fuck… but inside I‟m pleading with her… please believe me.

She shakes her head and sighs heavily.

“Why are you here Edward?” She looks up at me through dark brown, pain- riven eyes
and she dashes the tears away roughly with the back of her hand. Shit why am I here?
Because I love you and I guess I want to know why you don‟t love me – how you can just

cast me aside… I can‟t tell her this… can I?

“I needed to know.” I say.

“Needed to know what?”

“Why you left without saying goodbye.”

“I wasn‟t allowed to say goodbye.”

“I‟m sorry… not allowed to say goodbye.” I scoff. “What do you mean by that? Are we

back in school?”

“I mean exactly what I say. I have had to do exactly what the two men out in the
corridor have been telling me for the last seven months, without questioning them

ever.”

What the fuck does this mean?

“If they say run… I run… if they say jump – I say how high. If they say we have to leave
now. We leave now. If they say you cannot contact anyone because any contact is
dangerous for me and for who ever I want to contact… then I don‟t make contact. It‟s
the only way they‟ve managed to keep me, and the people I care about, alive.” Her voice
breaks on the last few words. She swallows. “So there‟s your answer.” She cocks her

head slightly to one side and stares at me.

And I don‟t think she‟s ever looked as beautiful, tearstains and all, as she does in this
moment of quiet determination as finally she‟s patiently trying to let me glimpse what
her life has been like… Fuck… and it only begins to dawn on me, what she must have
been through. And what‟s she‟s been through is so fucking huge – on her own. Fucking
hell Cullen. You selfish prick, you‟ve thought of no one but yourself. And in this
infinitesimal increment of time the scales truly do fall from my eyes… and all I can see is
a beautiful brave young woman sat in front of an exceptionally self-centered man
wrapped up in his own shit who‟s had everything far too easy over the last couple of
years…. shit. Shame washes through me, appalling, gut-wrenching, fuck-awful, dark,

nasty, self-loathing… shame.

She is staring at me her eyes burning with some unnamed emotion and I am completely

lost for words, my fucking epiphany coming too late in this conversation.

“I‟m sorry,” I whisper… because it‟s the best I can do.

“Me too,” she says.

“You have nothing to apologise for…”

“I‟m sorry I couldn‟t explain… at the time. I‟m glad I got to now though.” She glances

down at her fingers on her lap.

Fuck, fuck, fuck - this has finality written all over it… the fucking end…. shit, shit, shit. I
feel like I‟m about to fall into a yawning fucking bottomless abyss. I love her, I don‟t
want to lose her. Salvage the situation Cullen, for fucks sake – do something… try

honesty.

“I miss you,” I murmur.

“Me too,” she breathes.

Fuck… Shit or bust… go for it…. and I say three words that I have never uttered to

anyone in my entire life… except in the fucking movies...

“I love you.”

She gasps slightly, and her little mouth pops open...

“Me too…” she whispers.

And we gaze at each other for a millisecond and then I‟m on my feet pulling her into my
arms and kissing her and she tastes so fucking sweet, her lips so soft because she‟s been
crying. Desire sweeps through me and she has her fingers in my hair, on my face and
she‟s kissing me back like her life depends on it. And all I can think is that I don‟t
fucking deserve her. I want to push her against the shabby wall in this shabby office and
take her… reclaim her on some very primal kind of level… but I release her and stare

down into her wild dark eyes.

“I have missed you so much and I have been so worried about you.” I kiss her again
briefly, sweetly. “Isabella… it‟s a beautiful name… I prefer it to Christabel. It really suits
you.” I stroke her cheek, and she puts her arms around me and places her head against
my heart. And we just stand there and relief and solace and warm fuzzy fucking feelings

slowly flow through me… but I‟ve come so close to losing her…

“What now?” I ask her.

She shrugs.

“I have a bit of a situation here,” she says and glances up at me, with a small tentative

smile on her face. I smile into her hair holding her close.

„I have to go back to Las Vegas tonight.”

She nods.

“I know. For the first time in my life I‟ve had Emmett and Jasper buying me celebrity

gossip magazines to find out what you‟re up to.”

“Bella… no – never believe what you read in that shit. Please.”

There‟s a knock on the door. Very reluctantly I release her. Hale opens the door again.

“Two minutes,” Bella snaps at him. Fuck little Miss Assertive is not far away.

He glares at me and shuts the door.

“I need to be able to contact you.”

“I don‟t have a cell phone.”

“Why.”

“Because they‟re easily traced.”

“Oh… well can I give you my number – and please, please call me.”

She nods and reaches in to the small bag she has under the table and gives me a pen

and some paper. I write down my number.

“Please, call or text me. I won‟t sleep until you do.”

She smiles softly at me.

“Okay,” she says.

It‟s such a bittersweet fucking moment. I‟ve said some horrible things to this lovely,
lovely girl and I‟m forgiven… fuck. She opens the door and I lean over and kiss her

briefly on her forehead.

“Good luck with all this… if you need anything, and I mean anything, let me know. Call

me.”

She nods and then turns to Emmett who‟s outside with the uptight prosecution lawyer

prick who‟s glaring at me.

“Can you get him safely out of the building please Emmett?”

“No problem Bella,” Emmett beams at her… shit, she has him wrapped around her little

finger too.

“Goodbye Edward,” she smiles shyly at me and I beam at her so that she flushes and I

follow Emmett along the corridor.

Fuck. She loves me too… and inside I‟m fucking dancing.

~*~

Chapter Nineteen

In the cab back to the hotel in Tribeca my mobile rings. It‟s Taylor.

“Edward what the fuck are you doing in New York?” He sounds pissed off.

“How do you know I‟m in New York?”

“It‟s all over the fucking web, Edward.”

“Really, already?”

“Yes – so it‟s true you were at the Supreme Court.”

“Err… Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I found her.”

“Who?”

“Christabel Mallory.”

This piques his interest.

“Oh… How?”

“Her name‟s Isabella Swann… She witnessed a murder… she‟s been in some witness

protection scheme and the trial she‟s involved in began yesterday.”

“The cute chick I saw on the news.”

“Yes the cute chick,” my voice darkens…

“Oh Edward it all becomes clear now. Hmmm… she could have a career after this… you
know she‟s beautiful, courageous, tenacious, she has integrity, a sense of justice, fuck I

could make her a poster girl for her generation.”

Fuck me… she‟s all that stuff and it takes my fucking shark of an agent to point it out to

me…

“Err… I‟m not sure that would be her bag?” Shit what would be her bag? I have no idea
– except that she likes to play her cello and she plays it well… and she likes me too. I

grin childishly at thought.

“Edward you need to come back. The producer‟s phoned me and you‟re frightening the

horses. And keep the witness chick quiet… don‟t want your fans to get wind of her…”

“Why?”

“Oh Edward, we don‟t want to break the hearts of the majority of the teen populace and
womankind in general in the Western Hemisphere… it‟s not good for business. Besides

she‟s been in witness protection so that might put you at risk too…”

Shit… hadn‟t thought of that. Am I at risk... nah... fuck it.

“Whatever Taylor. Anyway I‟m on my way back now so pacify the producer for me will
you? I‟ll be on set tomorrow morning. And I don‟t want any work for at least two

months after this gig Taylor. I need a break.” I hang up.

I quickly call Eric and tell him to get me on the next plane to Las Vegas.

----------

Mike collects me at McCarran airport at eleven that evening.

“Hi Mike.”

“Mr Cullen, you‟re looking a lot happier than when you left sir.”

“I am, thanks Mike. How‟s the family?”

“Looking forward to their set visit Mr Cullen.”

I smile.

“Good, we‟d better make it worth their while.”

----------

At one in the morning my mobile rings, waking me.

“Who is it?” I ask grumpily, dragged from my delicious fucking erotic dream about little

Bella Swann.

“Hi,” a breathy, shy as fuck voice says on the other end. I‟m wide-awake immediately.
She‟s fucking phoned, like she said she would. My heart does the fucking samba round

my chest.

“Bella, Baby… how are you? How did the afternoon go?”

“Okay…”

Christ there is so much I need to say to this woman. So much I want to ask her… I know
so little about her and my mind goes completely fucking blank.

“Did I wake you?” She asks softly.

“Yes… but don‟t worry about that. It‟s lovely to hear your voice.”

“I wanted to check that I didn‟t dream our meeting today.”

“No – it really happened… and I‟m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For being such a complete and utter moron.”

“Edward… you‟re a man…” Is all she says and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Are all men morons?”

“Only the good ones…” Nicely side-stepped Swann… I grin at her response. “This is

Emmett‟s cell phone… I‟d better not be too long.” She adds.

“I wish you were here…” I whisper and my entire fucking body tightens at the delicious

thought.

“Me too…” she murmurs.

“Bella, I have an award ceremony I have to attend in LA… it‟s the day after tomorrow,

Sunday. Can you come with me?”

She‟s silent for a moment.

“Like a date?” she asks and I can hear her barely concealed surprise and fucking glee –
and my face splits into a shit-eating grin. What is it with fucking going out with people

in this country…?

“I think we‟re a bit beyond dating surely… but yes – if you need a definition – it‟s a

date.”

She gasps… like she‟s never been asked on a fucking date… shit… perhaps that‟s what

this is.

“You have been on a date, haven‟t you?”

“Edward – what do you think? There‟s a reason why I play my cello well…”

I shake my head in disbelief.

“I just find it hard to believe that a beautiful woman like you has managed to completely
avoid the opposite sex… don‟t tell me you were into girls when you were younger…

because I‟ll get no sleep thinking about that…”

She giggles and it‟s such a fucking glorious sound.

“No Edward, the only thing I‟ve been into is music… that‟s it. My Grandmère was very

strict with me. She didn‟t let me date boys.”

“Well I really like the sound of her…”

“I‟d better go.”

“Okay… let me know about LA. I‟ll pay for flights… fuck I‟ll hire a jet and come and get

you…”

“I‟d love to come Edward… but I‟ll need to talk to Emmett and Jasper… you know… it

sounds very public.”

“Baby you‟ve been beamed onto TV sets around the world… can‟t get more public than
that. Look if you need extra security – my people can sort it… please, think about it. If

you come I‟ll have something to look forward to.”

“Okay… I‟d better go. Goodnight Edward.”

“Good night Bella, sleep tight.”

Neither of us hangs up – fuck I‟m fourteen again.

“Bella, go to bed – I love you.”

“I love you too Edward… goodnight.”

Fuck me – it really did happen. I really did see her today and she really does fucking
love me… I cannot believe how much happier I am compared to this time last night…
She loves me. I roll over back into my bed, grinning like a mad man and try and recover

the dream I was having before she woke me….

--------

I have four more days of filming then I am fucking free… bliss. It‟s Denali‟s last day on
set today. Hur-fucking-rah! And I vow inwardly to myself that I will never work with
her again. The whole set notices the change in my mood, but both Eric and Mike have
said nothing about where I‟ve been, so my happy smile remains a mystery. I get Eric to
buy Denali some fuck-off... fuck off present. He finds her an antique mirror – very
fucking apt… I need to give this boy a permanent job… I present it to her at lunch and

she‟s suitably rapturous in her thanks… air kisses all round…

In the afternoon between set-ups I meet Mike‟s daughters who are both delightful and
embarrassingly smitten with me, but I give them a tour of the set and autograph
everything they‟ve bought for me to sign. I think their Dad has been elevated to Best

Dad In The World.

The whole crew are tired from the gruelling hours as we‟re coming towards the end of
filming… and I‟m just fucking delighted the day is over and I‟m back at the hotel. I feign
a headache so I don‟t have to go out and drink with crazy woman. As I open my hotel
room door I check my phone to see if I have any missed calls. Sadly none. I shut the
door behind me, and perched on the edge of my sofa is the lovely little Bella, biting her
lip, looking anxious as fuck.

“Hi,” she says nervously as she stands up. She‟s dressed in a little white shirt and… fuck

- a skirt…

My mouth drops open.

“You‟re here,” I can hear the disbelief in my voice. I sound like a fucking girl. Get a grip

Cullen.

“If that‟s okay?” she asks quietly.

“It‟s more than okay. It‟s fan-bloody-tastic.” I drop my bag and practically run towards
her and take her head in my hands. I tip her head back so I can kiss her, really fucking

kiss her. She puts her hands on my arms to steady herself. She tastes divine.

“Hi…” I say looking down into her bright brown eyes. “I‟ve missed you.” My whole body
has sprung to attention like an electric circuit has been switched on from the Hoover

dam. What an unexpected fucking delight. Lord… How I hunger for this woman.

“What‟s happened with the trial?” I ask, still with her head clasped in my hands… I am

not going to let her go.

“Well the court for some reason isn‟t sitting today – or tomorrow – and I‟m not needed
on Monday… so I thought…” she trails off and looks apologetically at me all wide and

eyed and fucking innocent.

“So I get to keep you for at least two nights…?”

She nods, still biting her little pouty lip… as if I might be angry. I let out a most un-

Cullen whoop of joy and pick her up and twirl her round as elation bursts in my heart.

“And you‟ll come with me to this awards thing?”

“Yes.”

I whoop again and twirl her around, and she giggles. For a moment I feel five fucking
years old and I‟ve got everything I wanted for Christmas, and then I let her slide down
my body, feeling every single appetising curve she has against me… Sweet Holy Fuck…

and I‟m my age again… dirty fucking old man. Fuck I want her… now…

“Are the Chuckle Brothers with you?” I whisper whilst I nuzzle behind her ear, nibbling

gently.

“Chuckle Brothers?” Her breath hitches.

“Emmett and Jasper.” I drag my nose down her throat inhaling her fucking gorgeous

scent and grazing her neck with my teeth and tasting her with my tongue.

“Yes… who are the Chuckle Brothers?” She asks breathlessly.

“They did a TV show when I was kid.” I whisper against her mouth as I lift her gently
and sit down on the couch with her astride me and I start to unbutton her shirt and kiss
the small valley at the base of her throat. “Where are they?” I continue unbuttoning her
shirt, trailing soft kisses down her sternum as I undo each button. When it‟s undone I
pull it back to reveal her white bra… and her beautiful pale breasts.

“Where are who?” Her breathing is ragged, her eyes are closed and she tilts her head
back so her glorious hair is cascading down her back… fucking A. She runs her fingers
through my hair, pulling gently. I groan and close my eyes enjoying her little hands on
me.

“The US Marshals.”

“Somewhere in the hotel…” She whispers and runs her hands from my hair to either

side of her face and the tips of her little fingers caress my sideburns… fuck.

“I am so glad you‟re wearing a skirt.” I murmur as I run my tongue between the
junction of her bra and her breasts, and I hitch up her skirt and place my hands on her
lush behind… She‟s wearing her little cotton panties and my dick is straining through

my fucking trousers to get through them. I want to rip them off…

“Are you attached to these panties?” My voice is hoarse with need.

She frowns down at me… the little kissable crease appearing between her brows.

“I don‟t understand…” she breathes.

“I‟ll show you…” I look up at her, her eyes are dark, unfocused, her lids half closed full
of fucking desire… no doubt mirroring mine. She tilts my head back as I have done to
her and she kisses my mouth, her sweet fucking tongue darting in and out and caressing
my tongue… I reach round and clasp her panties at the back and stretch them and then
push my thumb through the fabric and tear them so they disintegrate in my hands…

“Oh…” she moans and before she can protest I take both my hands and grab fistfuls of
her luscious soft hair and deepen our kiss, holding her head against me. She comes up
for air and I kiss her breasts again, and I free her hair bringing my hands down to the
sides of her breasts and with my thumbs I pull each of the cups of her bra down freeing
her breasts and they‟re forced up by the under wire of her bra pointing directly at me.
Sweet Fuck. Each of her nipples, puckers and hardens as I stare at them… I take one
nipple into my mouth and pull hard with my lips and she moans as it lengthens in my
mouth. I gently squeeze her other breast, rubbing her nipple to and fro with pad of my
thumb. She places her hands on the sofa behind me and starts to move up and down,

grinding her sex against me… fuck.

"Edward... please," she whimpers.

My trousers are becoming painfully fucking tight, with one hand I undo my flies and
free my straining dick. Fuck I need a condom… fuck it… I grasp her hips and hold her
over me and I pull her down on to me, thrusting into her at the same time, to the hilt…
she feels out of this fucking world. She cries out throwing her head back and the noise
nearly tips me over the edge. She moves up and down me and I angle myself so I know
the head of my dick is caressing her sweet spot. I can tell as she quickens around me…
and she moves faster and faster… sweet fuck… I am hanging on and it‟s agonizing sweet
fucking torture. She stops suddenly and explodes around me, crying out… and near
collapsing on me - shit. I close my eyes and let go - pouring myself into her… calling out
her name… and as I put my arms around this beautiful girl who I love and hold her to
me, I realise… it‟s the first time I‟ve ever made love without a condom.

~*~

Chapter Twenty

Shit on a stick. How could I be so fucking irresponsible? What kind of fucking moron
am I? And I haven‟t even taken my shoes off… fucking savage. I hold her close, my nose
in her fragrant hair, as she lays on me, dazed and docile and all post fucking orgasmic. I
don‟t want to move, moronic, savagery aside, this is my idea of heaven… I‟m still inside
her… and we‟re all wet and sticky and thoroughly well fucked and she could now be well
on her way to being bloody pregnant – you fucking idiot. An image of her all swollen
bellied and beautiful comes into my head… shit… that’s one way to tie her to me…She'd

be mine then.... Fuck - Cullen get a fucking grip - where the fuck is this idea going?

She sighs contentedly and sits back on me gazing into my eyes all dreamy and tousled

and bloody gorgeous. She bites her little pouty lip…

“You didn‟t use a condom,” she breathes and the corner of her mouth twitches up with a
hint of a smile. Shit… I think I‟m actually fucking blushing… I ease out of her gently…
and I want to squirm under her dark-eyed unrelenting scrutiny and because we‟re all

fucking slippery and messy.

“ Yeah… err… I got a bit carried away. I‟ve never done that before. You have that kind of
effect on me.” Cullen that is no fucking excuse, you should be fucking ashamed of such

shitty behaviour. She leans down and kisses the corner of my mouth.

“I like it when you get carried away.” She says softly against my lips, sexy as hell, and as
ever I‟m expecting her to be angry and she‟s not… I put my arms around her waist and
shift us both so that I‟m lying on top of her on the sofa… gazing down into her dark,

mysterious eyes.

“You are so unpredictable. I just don‟t know you at all… and I very, very much want to,

Isabella Swann… Why aren‟t you angry with me?”

“Why should I be angry with you Edward? It takes two to tango. Besides,” she flushes a

deep shade of red and she avoids my gaze…

“What?” I frown down at her… shit - what‟s this, what's wrong?

“Err… my period‟s due…” she whispers, mortified… still not looking at me. “So I‟m very

unlikely to get pregnant.”

“Oh.” And for a fucking nanosecond I feel… disappointed. Get a fucking grip. I lean
down and kiss her softly. “I think you‟d look cute pregnant.” I murmur. She furrows her

brow and blinks rapidly staring up at me. I grin down at her... delighted that my

reactions can surprise her too.

“Shower with me...” I ask distracting her further.

And slowly her face transforms as a beaming smile reveals her feelings. Suddenly she‟s
all wide-eyed and excited and I remember the last time we had a shower together…

hmmm - my dick nods in approval.

---------

She‟s wrapped around me in the shower and whimpering into my neck, impaled on me
as I thrust into her, rocking back and forth… thank Christ she‟s light… I have my hands
on her soft, smooth thighs. She tilts her head back, her legs around my waist, her
shoulders against the granite walls of the shower stall and her arms round my neck…
water cascades over us and I just can‟t fucking stop. It‟s like she‟s some powerful
fucking opiate… an elixir – I don‟t know… I just fucking want her…need her…. I can feel

her stiffening around me…

“Come for me baby…” I whisper… “Please…” because I‟m fucking dying here. She
convulses around me and she cries out as she comes… I don‟t think there‟ll ever be a
day when I won‟t want to hear that sound. I finally let go… pouring my heart and
fucking soul into her, trembling like fuck and very gently sinking to the floor of the
shower… fuck me… that was fucking intense. I know I haven‟t had sex for two weeks –
but quite frankly my hunger and need for this beautiful girl is disturbing. I kiss her
lovely wet face and she looks up at me, her eyes shining with fucking devotion… and
strange fucking feelings emanate from deep within me. I never, ever want to let her go…
ever. Why does she have this effect on me? I know fuck all about her… except she‟s
more than bewitched me… I am fucking enslaved… and, if I‟m honest frightened as fuck
by the depth of my feelings for her. Surely she can‟t feel this intensity too… What if she
leaves me? Fuck… the thought is too shitty to contemplate. I wrap my arms around her
and we sit curled as one under the steady stream of delicious hot water from the fuck-

off-all-power-America-does-it-best shower.

“We‟re wasting precious natural resources here…” she murmurs after heaven knows

how long…

“Hmmm…” I reply and kiss her and gently run my fingers down her face. “Don‟t ever
leave me.” I sigh against her ear. Fuck – where the fuck did that pop out from? Have I
ever felt this fucking vulnerable? Whatever happened to a bit of fucking detachment

Cullen?

“Edward… I don‟t think a two tonne gorilla could prise me away from you…” and she
frowns.

“What?”

And she does that shrinking thing, where she somehow makes herself smaller right in
front of me… I hate it when she does this. She shakes her head at me, like she‟s trying to

forget something painful and before I can protest she kisses me gently and says,

“I‟m hungry… for food.” And as soon as she says it I feel ravenous too. I release her and
stand and offer her my hand to help her up. She uncoils herself and stands up but slips

and I catch her before she falls and hurts herself. It makes me smile.

“You really are the clumsiest girl I have ever met.”

“I can‟t help it if I have two left feet…” she says haughtily and I think she‟s offended.

Shit. I pull her into my arms and kiss her.

“I really am only teasing you. You are also the loveliest girl I‟ve ever met.”

Her mouth presses into a small pout and I have to struggle very hard to suppress my

smile.

“Let‟s get some food.” I turn off the shower and step out into the bathroom, not letting
go of her hand, in case she falls again. I grab a towel and wrap her up like she‟s a small
child and pull one round myself. I take one of the smaller towels and I start to dry her

hair.

“Now that we‟ve said hello properly can I start with the interrogation?”

I ask.

“Interrogation?”

“Yes Isabella Swann, whom I know next to nothing about…”

“Oh… What do you want to know?”

“Everything… Julliard, the trial, where you live, your full name. You know random

details like that.”

“Why don‟t we order food first…? Edward I am starving…”

I reach over and pick up the bathroom phone and call room service.

“Any requests?” I ask her before they answer.

“Something quick.”

“No mushrooms.” I smile at her.

She grins.

“You remembered.”

-------------------

I switch the fuck-off discreet music system on and reach into the mini bar and pull out
two beers and a bag of nuts… my little Bella is hungry and room service will take at least
half an hour. She‟s sitting curled up on the sofa in one of the bathrobes, hair wet and
scruffy, looking fucking edible and I get a happy sense of déjà vu. I hand her the nuts

and the beer and settle down beside her.

“Bella I have so many questions…”

She gazes at me indulgently.

“What do you want to know?”

Over the next couple of hours Bella recounts the last year of her life. After winning a
scholarship to Julliard, her Grandmère had been overjoyed and had duly decamped to
New York with her when she started school to help settle in the big city. A month or so
into their stay she had promptly had a heart attack and died... Shit… of all the fuck
awful luck. Leaving little Bella to pick up the fucking pieces... on her own... she has no

one else...

“She came to take care of me but she should have stayed in Metairie…” Bella‟s voice is

small, sad and tinged with regret and it‟s obvious she blames herself.

“It's not your fault... Metairie?” I ask, to distract her more than anything..

“My home town. Everyone has heard of New Orleans… well‟s it‟s quite near about ten
miles. We have a house there,” she corrects herself, “I have a house there.” I realise in
that moment that because she‟d witnessed the Volturi‟s evil fucking shit she‟s probably
not had time to grieve the death of her last remaining relative… caught up in all the
witness protection bollocks she‟s had to deal with… Caught up with Emmett and
fucksmith Jasper… I don‟t want to think about the proximity that they have been living

in…

“So, let me get this straight, you have a house in near New Orleans and an apartment in

New York.” Fuck - she is a woman of means… and I think of her 4x4…

“I do. But I‟ve not been allowed back to either of them for the last seven months. It‟s
been all safe houses in various parts of the US for the last five months until I put my

foot down and said no more. Emmett found me the job here…”

“And thank heavens he did, otherwise I‟d never have met you.” I kiss her hair softly. She

has finished her pizza and she has snuggled into me as we sit on the sofa.

“This is a very comfortable couch…” she yawns.

“Are you tired?”

“Hmmm…”

And she‟s asleep on me… I gaze down at her small pale slightly flushed face and think
how precious she‟s become to me in so short a time… If something were to happen to
her… my blood chills at the thought. Very gently I pick her up and she sighs softly, her
arms tightening around my neck. I take her into the bedroom and lay her down in the

bed.

“Don‟t go…” she whispers as I try to stand and she holds me firmly round my neck and
peers into my dark soul with her chocolate brown eyes… and I see love, want and need
reflected back at me. My whole body tightens and my dick dances in approval knowing
we will be taking the non-prophylactic approach… and as I lie down beside her and
undo her robe and inhale her fuck-off sweet, sweet scent I think I could seriously get

used to this.

~*~

Chapter Twenty-One

“Good morning little Bella,” I whisper and kiss her temple gently.

“Hmmm…” she moans. “I want to sleep.” She mumbles grumpily.

I smile.

“Come to set later… and then we can go to the awards ceremony from there. I‟ll send

Mike to get you.” I nuzzle her ear. “Sleep well baby.”

Jasper is lurking in the corridor.

“Good Morning.” I‟m polite.

He glowers at me… and I know he‟s jealous, shit, pea-fucking-green with envy… well
matey, you had your chance for six months… and the errant thought fucks me off big

time. I stalk down the corridor away from him. Fucker...

I am slightly later this morning so I have to run the gauntlet of the rabid teens… I
cannot believe they are still here. Don‟t they have fucking homes to go to, Facebook
pages to update, with what they had for fucking breakfast or some other such trite
crap…? I stop and say hi and pose for a few pictures and sign some autographs. Actually
they are very well behaved. I‟m not pulled about or grabbed and shit and I‟m grateful. I
feel much more predisposed to them this morning… I wonder why… and I‟m grinning

like fuck as I head for my car.

Mike is ready and waiting.

“Good morning Mike.”

“Mr Cullen.” Mike acknowledges me with a broad smile. “I just wanted to thank you
again for showing my daughters around yesterday. So far I think it‟s probably the best

day of their lives.”

I flush with pleasure and mild embarrassment.

“It‟s nothing Mike – it was a pleasure. I‟m glad that Sallie and Anne-Marie enjoyed

themselves.”

Whilst we drive to location, I call Emmett.

“McCarty,” he snaps all fucking officious and scary…

“Hi, Emmett, Edward Cullen.”

“Oh, Mr Cullen, Good morning.”

“I‟ve left Bella in my suite… I thought you should know. Jasper was outside. What do
you need to know about in terms of the security arrangements for the awards ceremony

this evening…?”

----------

Eric is ready with my coffee and he‟s taken aback by my ebullient mood but wisely
again, he keeps quiet. I head over to costume to see Laurent. I only have two scenes to

do… hopefully we‟ll finish before lunch.

While Laurent is fussing around me, dressing me, I call Taylor.

“Edward.”

“I‟m bringing Bella to the awards ceremony.”

I hear his sharp intake of breath.

“Edward… is that a good idea? Will she be safe? Will you be safe? What about your
fans? Jesus Edward… what the fuck are you thinking?” His voice rises to a crescendo. I

have anticipated his antipathy and I completely ignore it.

“I need whoever‟s doing security to talk to Marshal McCarty. McCarty thinks the risk to
Bella is reduced as she‟s given her testimony and the defence team will want her around
so they can discredit her evidence… but still he wants to talk to them. And it means that

you‟ll need to find room on the jet for him and Marshal Hale too…”

“Edward I don‟t know…”

“Taylor – I think it was you that told me that I could do what I wanted. This is what I
want, I‟m fed up with doing all this shit on my own, I need to share it, I want to share it

with her… make it happen.” I hang up.

----------------

There‟s a knock on my trailer door.

“Come in.”

Eric opens the door and he waves Bella in… he‟s staring at me in astonishment. I leap

up off my sofa.

“Hi.” Fuck… Bella Swann in my trailer…

“Hi,” she says all shy, flushing and cute… when will she get over this? Hopefully never.
She looks adorable. She glances up at me and cries out. “Edward - your cheek… what

happened?” She rushes towards me horror etched on her face.

“Make-up,” I grin at her, she‟s so bloody gullible. “I‟ve been in a fight in my previous

scene… What do you think? I think it gives me a certain roguish charm.”

“Oh…” She laughs, flushing even more and she bites on her lower lip to suppress her

self-conscious smile.

Eric hovers.

“You‟ve met Eric.”

She turns and smiles, too fucking broadly at him for my liking and he fucking lights up

like a fucking Christmas tree and grins back. I have to repress my scowl.

“Do you need anything?” Eric asks us.

Privacy comes to mind…

“Bella?” I ask.

“I‟m fine. Thank you.”

Eric leaves and she‟s standing here… in my trailer. Wearing tight jeans, trainers and a

white t-shirt, she looks so…. fuckable… and I pull her into my arms and kiss her hello…

“So this is where all the action takes place,” she murmurs glancing around.

“Hasn‟t seen much action.”

She quirks her eyebrow at me but doesn‟t comment further. Well there was that fucked

up moment in time with Denali… shit, I shudder inwardly at the memory.

“You have a guitar.”

“Yes…” and suddenly I feel shy… Shit it‟s catching.

“I‟d love to hear you play.”

“Maybe when I‟ve had a few beers.” She‟s such a competent musician… it‟s intimidating.

“Where are Laurel and Hardy?”

She grins.

“Outside… I think Emmett went to find food.”

“Shall I show you round the set?”

She nods, then looks at her knotted fingers embarrassed by something… biting her

pouty little lip.

“What is it?”

“Look, I don‟t want you to be offended or anything… I have a confession.” Oh shit -
what the fuck is this? My mind races at what she thinks she has to confess. Unbidden
and un-fucking-welcome the image of Jasper Hale pops into my head…. fuck “I‟ve never

seen any of your films. I‟ve not seen many…” she says quietly.

I stare at her, relief flooding through me… and then I hold my head back and laugh…

really laugh. And she‟s gazing at me frowning and anxious.

“I‟ve seen very few of them too… I find it really, really hard to watch myself. So that
makes two of us.” I catch her chin between my thumb and index finger and kiss her

lightly.

She is suitably unimpressed by all the paraphernalia that accompanies a film crew. The
lights, the equipment, the flight cases, the number of people; the number of people who
look incredibly busy and the number of people who look like they‟re doing fuck all…
Unless you work in the business you don‟t really appreciate how fucking dull it is to be

standing around a film set.

I take her to meet Laurent.

“The brave Isabella Swann. I am delighted and honoured to meet you ma cherie.”

“Enchantée monsieur”

“Vous parlez français?”

“Mais oui, ma grandmère etait Française.”

“Moi aussi…”

“Okay you two this is getting far too cosy for my liking. Laurent I am taking Bella to the
HFI Film Awards, do you have something she can wear?”

Bella flushes. “I‟m assuming you haven‟t bought anything to change into – and it‟s black

tie… I should have warned you…. Sorry.” Fuck - I hope she‟s not offended.

“Darlings… I‟m sure I‟ll have something that we can make you look a million dollars
in…” Laurent beams at her… “You‟ve given me such superb raw material to work with

here Cullen.” He winks at Bella, and she blushes again.

“And I‟ll need a dress suit… sorry Tuxedo…”

Laurent purses his lips at me…

“Now you tell me,” he mutters petulantly. “I‟ll see what I can do Cullen.”

I blow him a kiss.

The third AD knocks on the door looking expectantly at me.

“Got him,” He says into his walkie.

“Mr Cullen you‟re needed on set,”

“I can see I am surplus to requirements here. Have fun with Laurent.” I lean over and

kiss her forehead. Laurent raises his eyebrows.

-----------

When I‟ve finished my scene I go to find Bella. She‟s in with Siobhan and Kate having
her make-up and hair done. Shit… she so doesn‟t need any. She‟s bloody lovely as she
is…

“Well you kept this quiet Edward.” Siobhan scolds me.

I shrug watching Bella intently. Siobhan has done a good job – she looks like Bella,
natural and beautiful, but more so… Kate is styling her hair. It‟s up with soft tendrils

curling down below her breasts. She looks fucking stunning.

“You okay?” I ask her and she gives me the most girly fucking grin.

“I‟ve never been fussed over like this… well, not for a long while.” Hmmm… living under

the US Marshals' watchful eyes she can‟t have had much girl time.

------------

We have lunch on set. The caterers are really fucking good on this production. Nothing
keeps the crew happy like good nosh every day… like an army, the crew travel on their
stomachs. We sit around a small makeshift picnic table under a large canvas umbrella
protecting us from the Las Vegas sun. Emmett, Jasper and Eric join us and we discuss
the logistics of the trip to LA. Bella stays weirdly mute throughout the conversation, like

she doesn‟t have anything to say.

“You‟re very quiet,” I observe after they‟ve gone. Shit perhaps she doesn‟t want to go…

“Am I?”

I nod. She shrugs and cocks her head to one side gazing at me. Her eyes brighten with

understanding.

“Edward, I haven‟t made a decision about where I‟m going for the last seven months…

except once… when we went to the Lake.”

“Oh.” Shit, how fucking awful is that...? I empathise. It‟s not quite the same… no one‟s
been trying to kill me – that I know of, though it crosses my mind often enough… but
I‟ve been pushed from pillar to fucking post for the last two years… well that‟s what it‟s
felt like… at least I have the final say on whether I do a project or not. I think about our

trip to the Lake.

“How did you get Emmett and Jasper to let you go?”

“We had a big row and Emmett only agreed when I threatened to run, which I‟ve never

done before. Jasper followed us. He was with us the whole time… he‟s very discreet.”

“Oh...” No wonder fucksmith loathes me… fucking voyeur. I frown at the thought that
he‟d been watching us, must have driven him crazy. Even that thought doesn‟t comfort

me.

“So I go with the flow now… you know. I‟d like some autonomy back – maybe after the
trial,” she smiles sadly at me. Why is she sad? Surely after the trial she can get her life
back in order… and hopefully find a large Edward fucking Cullen shaped space for me

in it… I frown at the thought… she‟d fucking better…

“Bella, why did you decide to testify? It‟s brought you nothing but grief.”

She stares at me as if she doesn‟t comprehend the question, as if I‟m mad.

“I didn‟t have a choice Edward. I saw what happened,” she shivers involuntarily, I
presume at the horrific memory and I want to kick myself hard for fucking mentioning
it. But she continues, “Besides I am the ideal witness. I had no ties, I could easily take a

year out from Julliard and no one would miss me if the Volturi got to me…”

I blanch as she utters the words. She's so fucking matter of fact.

“I‟d fucking miss you.” I snap at her angrily and I want to grab her and shake her… so

she understands.

The little dent appears between her brows and she looks down at her hands.

“I didn‟t know you then… and if I hadn‟t been in hiding, I‟d never have met you.”

I scowl at her.

“Frankly Bella you sound reckless.” Or fucking depressed… and I think again about the

fact that her grandmother died just before all this fucking awfulness…

“Maybe,” she agrees, but I know it‟s because she doesn‟t want to fight. I make a huge
effort and rein in my deteriorating temper. I don‟t want to fight either. But I can feel

myself pouting at her like a fucking sulky teenager. Eric interrupts us.

“You need to get ready. You‟re leaving for McCarran in half an hour.”

I‟m outside wardrobe waiting for Laurent to finish with Bella. Her make-up and hair
have been retouched and we‟re all loaded in cars waiting. While I wait I remember that
she‟s not been on a date before, and this is supposed to be a date… shit I should have
brought her something… flowers or some shit… or maybe that‟s for proms… oh fuck I
don‟t know - American fucking mores are so fucking confusing sometimes and my

knowledge is largely based on films I‟ve watched as a kid. I should have asked Eric.

Bella steps down from the trailer and my mouth goes dry and pops open…. I think…
though in that minute I‟m not really capable of any coherent thought…fuck… She‟s
fucking beautiful. Wearing a blue strapless dress with a tight fitted bodice that barely
restrains her breasts and a soft feminine as fuck skirt with frothy gauzy material over
the top that finishes just above the knee and very, very high strappy bloody sandals…
How will she walk in them? I think vaguely... Fuck me sideways… and inside all I can

think is this goddess is mine…

I take her hand and help her down the steps of the trailer.

“You look beautiful,” I mutter but the words are wholly inadequate to describe how she
looks in that moment. She smiles at me shyly that adds a delicious rosy glow to her
cheeks and then licks her bottom lip, as she looks at me appreciatively and I feel it all

the way to the end of my favourite organ… fuck…

“You look pretty hot yourself… Edward Cullen.” She grins.

“Your carriage awaits Madam,” and I give her a polite, courteous bow and lead her to

the car.

~*~

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bella is sitting beside me as we ride to McCarran. Emmett and Mike are up front and
Jasper follows behind with Chris the director who is also up for some award for a film
he directed last year. I peek at Bella‟s lovely profile. She‟s so fucking… elegant. I notice
that she‟s not wearing her sleepers, and I remember that I have one of them. She should

be in fucking diamonds… or sapphires or some shit like that. Fuck…

“Mike, we need to stop at a jewellers.”

“Yes Mr Cullen.”

Bella stares at me perplexed.

“You need some earrings.”

“Oh…” her hand reaches unconsciously to one of her earlobes. “I lost one of my

sleepers.”

I grin at her.

“I found it in your room, when I went looking for you after you disappeared.”

“You went looking for me?” she says surprised.

“Of course I did. Hired a private detective and had Taylor scouring the country for you.”

She flushes and shrugs apologetically.

“Well you found me...”

“Only because I saw you on TV.”

“Oh…” She bites her lip. “Edward I don‟t need any earrings.”

“Please.” I beg. She frowns at me, the little kissable dent appearing between her brows…
I know how soft that feels against my lips… I shift in my seat… don‟t go there now

Cullen…

Mike pulls into the north entrance of the Bellagio.

“Sir, there‟s a Tiffany‟s here. You need the Via Bellagio. It‟s off to the left through the

doors.”

“Thanks Mike.”

“Come on then.” I grab Bella‟s little hand.

“Mr Cullen, she needs to stay in the car.” Emmett turns and stares impassively at us

both.

“Oh okay.” I look at Bella and she shrugs apologetically.

“Jasper, will you accompany Mr Cullen into the Bellagio?” Emmett talks into his sleeve.
Oh shit… Hale's going to love that. I quickly squeeze Bella‟s hand and then I climb out
of the car. Shit… The hotel is not too crowded. Fucksmith Hale comes and stands beside
me… he looks really fucked off as we head into hotel. I can hear the whispers and

stares…. fuck was this a good idea?

“That‟s Edward Cullen… in a tux!”

“Wow!”

“Over there, look Edward Cullen! He‟s even yummier in the flesh.”

I accost one of the bellboys.

“Via Bellagio please.”

He stares, recovers himself and says,

“Follow me please Mr Cullen.” Yanks are so fucking polite sometimes. I love them. It‟s
not far. Mike knows his stuff and he‟s dropped us near the shopping mall area of the
hotel. Tiffany‟s is quiet. Hale stands at the doorway and crosses his arms, poster boy for

belligerence, as I stride into the shop. Right, fuck, where do I start?

An attractive young shop assistant sidles up to me and then stops short, recognising me.

“C-c-can I help you… sir?” She asks all big blue blinky eyes.

“Please,” and I smile my most fuck-off Cullen smile… and she‟s all fucking blinking
again. “I need some drop diamond earrings… and I have approximately two minutes to
choose them.”

“Oh… well, walk this way.”

She stands in front of a display case that‟s packed with sparkly shit… Fuck… which ones.
I scan them quickly. A pair catch my eye, sparkly, dangly… yeah they‟re cool, not too

fucking flashy – in fact they‟re fucking elegant like my little Bella.

“Those.” I point to them.

“The Victoria Double Drop,”

“Err… yeah… whatever.” I glance over at Hale who is glowering at me. I have to stifle a
smile. Don‟t you just wish fucksmith… the uncharitable thought flashes across my

mind.

“That will be twelve thousand dollars, sir.”

“Fine… here. Can you wrap them quickly please?” I hand her my credit card.

Back in the car I hand the little turquoise box to Bella.

“Happy first date,” I grin at her.

She‟s all flushed and embarrassed and fidgety and cross and secretly fucking pleased.
It‟s a complete fucking delight to watch all these various emotions flitting across her

lovely face.

“Edward… you really didn‟t need to do this.” She puts the box in her lap and I grasp her
nearest hand and pull it up to my lips, pressing feather light kisses across her knuckles.
I hear her breath hitch and the sound goes right through me tightening every fucking

muscle in its path… shit how I wish we were on our own.

She undoes the white ribbon, opens the box and pulls out the little fucking pouchy
thing… She takes out one of the earrings, suddenly I‟m all fucking did-I-buy-the-right-
ones? Will she like them? Nervous and shit… She gasps.

“Edward, it‟s beautiful.” She quickly fastens it to her ear and does the same with its
twin. “Thank you.” She says graciously and leans over and kisses me on my cheek. They
look lovely as I suspected… but all I can think about is when she‟ll take them off again….

hmmm….

The jet is ready and waiting for us at McCarran. We drive straight on to the concourse
and Mike stops at the steps leading up to the Gulfstream jet. The pilot, co-pilot and an
air steward are waiting at the bottom of the steps and they shake our hands as we climb
on board. I hold Bella‟s hand as she teeters up the steps… how the fuck is she going to
last in these shoes? The interior is all pale beige leather and polished to fuck walnut
wood. I lead Bella to the back where there‟s a long leather couch and we sit down… oh

the fucking possibilities of this couch. I know it‟s the sort that folds into a bed… I‟m
briefly zapped back in time to a private jet flight I‟d taken from location in Morocco to
Cannes for the film festival last year… two beautiful flight attendants – no waiting… a
very fucking pleasant memory. Bella is scrutinizing me - her head cocked to one side,

and her eyebrow arched. Fuck, can she read my mind? I flush slightly…

“What?” she asks softly, amused.

“Nothing.” I mutter, fuck. Get a grip Cullen.

Chris comes and sits in the seat beside us across the aisle and McCarty and Hale sit

down at the front.

“Chris Schwarz this is Bella Swann.” I hadn‟t managed to introduce Bella during our
brief tour of the location, he‟d been too wrapped up in his own shit. Chris takes Bella‟s

hand.

“I‟m delighted to meet you Bella,” he says graciously. They proceed to get on like a
fucking house on fire. Chris is huge frigging Bach nut and really knows his shit… as does
little Bella Swann. She gets fucking animated about Bach and it‟s such a pleasure to

watch her… passion.

The flight is smooth and takes just over an hour. We touch down at LAX and we have a
whole hour to negotiate the LA traffic and get to the theatre where the awards are
taking place. Taylor and one of his blond, twig-like, handmaidens, named Lauren meets
us on the concourse. Taylor is fucking thrilled to meet Bella and I can see him
succumbing to her innocent charm. He‟s used to in your face notice me types… people
like me… Bella is too fucking cool and shy for all that shit. Our small party decamps into
a stretch limo and a sedan. I hate these ostentatious fucking vehicles, they are beyond
ridiculous - the only consolation for me is that it‟s not a Hummer. Bella, Taylor, Chris
and I travel together with Emmett in the front seat. Hale travels with Lauren in the
sedan. I am always amazed at how these things are timed… the driver of our limo is in
constant contact with some master control somewhere and we‟re slotted in for our
arrival on the red carpet. Just before we hit the red carpet Taylor is dropped off to make
his own way into the venue… via the normal entrance. Taylor doesn‟t do red carpets. It
will be Chris, Bella and I and poor old Emmett will bring up the rear. I smile at the
thought. Hale is going with Taylor to scout out the reception. As we queue to be

dropped off I grab Bella‟s hand, squeezing it tightly and gaze at her beautiful face.

“You ready for this?”

She smiles nervously.

“I‟m looking forward to it.” And she sounds like she‟s trying to convince herself. I kiss

her the back of her hand.

“You look absolutely stunning…” I smile at her, so glad that this beautiful, demure,

gracious creature is with me. She blushes and bites her pouty fucking lip... hmmm.

We pull up at the red carpet entrance and the doorman opens the limo door. Bam - the
flashlights, shouting, screaming begins. Chris climbs out, followed by me, and I turn to
help Bella. She‟s dazed by the flash photography and the noise of the screaming fans
and everyone shouting my name. I tuck her close under my arm, kiss her hair and we
head towards the reception entrance. Chris walks beside us on the other side of Bella,
protecting her too. She has made another conquest in him, and she‟ll be completely
fucking oblivious to it… Emmett is lurking in the background somewhere but I‟ve
stopped paying him any attention. We stop and pose for the fucking press corps who are

all lined up on tiered rostra.

There are various shouts along the lines of “Who‟s your friend Edward? Who is she
Cullen?” and I think I hear somewhere someone shout Isabella Swann… but I‟m not
sure. I ignore them and wave and I can feel Bella shrink into me… shit she‟s doing that
making herself small thing again. I glance quickly down at her. She looks incredibly
composed and serene, smiling shyly as usual. But I can only imagine what‟s going
through her mind. Shit – she‟s been hidden away for months and now I‟ve dragged her
to probably one of the most intense public spectacles anyone can experience. She‟ll be
on the front cover of all the gossip magazines over the next week and these images will

be available on the internet within minutes… fuck. Was this a good idea Cullen?

I turn and lead us both through the elaborately decorated front doors of the venue and
into the lobby that‟s crowded with fucking film people, everywhere. Actors, producers,
directors and their fucking agents milling around, gossiping, kissing, air kissing… fuck
here goes. The networking shit. Taylor is at my side within an instant and I can see Hale
keeping a watchful eye, scanning the crowd around us. And I have to say even though I
think he‟s a complete and utter fucker I‟m grateful for his and Emmett‟s presence. I
keep Bella tucked under my arm and I start circulating. I hate this shit. This whole
fucked up business is about who you know and Taylor has a fucking list of people that I

should meet… the fucker.

Bella is amazing. She is poised and calm throughout and as soon as people realise who
she is, she‟s regaled with compliments about her courage and principles. She‟s not
phased at all – or star struck - though I wonder if that‟s because she doesn‟t know who
half these fuckers are… I deflect any questions about how we met and our relationship…
Fuck - we haven‟t discussed this shit… I keep hold of her the whole time… if not tucked
under my arm, then I have her little hand in mine. It‟s pretty fucking obvious that we‟re
together. We each have a glass of champagne - although I‟d rather have a beer - and

then we‟re ushered into the auditorium for the beginning of the awards ceremony.

The ceremony itself is being televised as live which means it won‟t over fucking run… As

we sit Bella excuses herself to visit the ladies‟. Hale follows her… thank fuck.

“You‟re really smitten aren‟t you?” Chris is seated behind me. I feel myself colouring up.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes Cullen. Really obvious. You can‟t take your eyes off her. Don‟t blame you… she‟s

lovely. Where did you meet?”

“That‟s a long story for over a beer, okay.”

Chris smiles.

“I‟ll hold you to that…”

Bella returns soon after, much to my relief, and takes her place beside me.

“How are you holding up?” I ask her.

“Fine… this is fun. So many beautiful women here…”

“They don‟t hold a candle to you Bella,” I murmur and she blushes and rolls her eyes at

me…

“Oh Edward… be serious,” she scolds me.

“You really have no idea how lovely you are, do you?”

She frowns.

“Please, don‟t… Who is that over there?” and she points to some random actress and I

know it‟s to distract me.

The lights dim and off we go…

When it comes to the best actor award Tanya Denali saunters on to the stage all tight
purple satin and cleavage to make the announcement. Oh shit…

Bella is surprised to see her and that I‟ve been nominated.

“That‟s why we‟re here.” I whisper.

“Oh…”

We sit and watch the nomination clips.

“You‟re very good,” Bella says softly and I want to laugh out loud but I restrain myself.

Tanya opens the golden envelope with a fucking flourish.

“And the winner is… my good friend,” she pauses for fucking dramatic effect and I
cannot believe how much innuendo she can put into three little words and I know it‟s

me… “Edward Cullen for „A Handful of Dust‟.” There is rapturous fucking applause.

“See you in a minute,” I whisper to Bella, whose mouth has dropped open.

“Congratulations,” she murmurs and she applauds too as I go to collect my award from

crazy Denali.

As I make my way down to the stage I‟m hurriedly remembering all the fuckers I have to
thank. Tanya is all charm when I reach down and kiss her, well she is a good actress, as
I accept the rather outlandish fucking statue she gives me. At least it‟ll go on a
mantelpiece… better than a fucking surfboard any day of the week which I collected at
the previous fucking event I went to… when the fuck do I have time to go fucking

surfing…?

I make a quick and hasty speech thanking the director, the studio, the cast and my folks
and then I‟m off… but I have to go back stage for the first of what will be a long fucking

line of photo calls…

As Tanya and I line up in front of a lit to fuck board with the HFI logos all over it I growl

at her.

“Behave yourself Denali.”

She smiles sweetly and puts her arm around me as the electronic flashes temporarily

blind us.

“You‟ve bought your little friend I see…”

“The future Mrs Cullen… if you don‟t mind.” Fuck, where the fuck did that come from? I

am reeling.

She blanches and pouts and stares all smiles and loathing at the cameras. And I‟m
kicking myself. Shit… why did you say that to one of the biggest fucking mouths in

Hollywood…? fuck, fuck, fuck. What were you thinking Cullen?

The future Mrs Cullen is sat quietly in her seat when I return. She beams when I sit
back beside her. I‟m in time to see Chris win best director for his film and I‟m pleased.
It‟ll mean that the final couple of days on the shoot will be good. His is one of the final
awards and I‟m pleased it‟s over. Whilst we sit and wait for the auditorium to empty

into the after show party I gaze at my beloved.

“How‟s your first date?”

“Crowded,” she answers with a wry smile.

I laugh.

“Yeah… I‟m sorry about that. Next time, it will just be the two of us.”

“Oh and Emmett and Jasper of course.”

“And Taylor…”

“Eric could come too.”

I give her a look of mock horror and we‟re both laughing.

As people leave I receive warm congratulatory pats on the back, handshakes and
kisses… it‟s all very nice on one level… acknowledgement from your peers for your work
but it‟s also tiring. I‟m looking forward to being back in room 1114 with little Bella, our

safe haven.

“Final leg…” I murmur as I stand and hold my hand out for her.

We make our way into the after show party. I‟m careful to keep her at my side. A pretty
dark waitress offers us some champagne and Bella takes the glass that‟s offered to her
and I take one too… Shit she‟s nineteen… is she allowed to drink? They have such weird
alcohol laws here I can never keep track. I can see Emmett in the background of the

very large reception room and he‟s conferring with Jasper.

We are soon surrounded by well-wishers and fucking liggers… but I know it‟s just for a

short period of time.

“Mr Cullen we need a few more shots of you. Please, over here.” One of the event
organisers, all sharp nose, trendy specs, in black is asking me over to another press
area. I drag poor Bella along behind me…but she‟s looking a little faint, paler than usual

suddenly.

“You okay,” I ask, my voice filled with concern.

“I feel a little dizzy… I think I should go to the powder room…”

“Okay…” I gaze anxiously around for the US Marshals and Emmett notices me looking
around. Hale is nowhere to be seen, Emmett bulldozers his way through the crowd to

us.

“Bella‟s not feeling great.”

“Hi Emmett. I need to visit the powder room,” she murmurs weakly.

He accompanies her to the ladies' and I go and endure some more fucking photos.

Five minutes later I join Emmett outside the powder room.

“She‟s not out yet?” It‟s a question to Emmett.

He shakes his head and my whole body fucking tenses, adrenaline spikes… fuck. The
nasty dread that I haven‟t felt since she fucking disappeared over two weeks ago roars
loud and ugly in my stomach. Emmett sees my look of alarm and we stare at each other
for a fraction of a second, dark burning eyes into fucking terrified green. I burst into the
ladies. There are several glamorous women all washing their hands, touching up their

make-up, gossiping… doing that shit that women do…

“Edward Cullen… what are you doing here?”

Gasps all round. I ignore them - no fucking Bella. Panic seizes me by the throat, and I
fight the nausea that‟s threatening to erupt all over the fucking floor. I check all the

stalls, tapping on each… she‟s not here… she‟s gone.

~*~

Chapter Twenty-Three

She‟s gone. This only means one thing… some fucker has her… some fucker has put
their hands on my little Bella…

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

I am momentarily numbed with shock or fear or some shit. I am totally fucking
immobilized, completely consumed by an all encompassing, overwhelming panic. I
want to wail and scream and tear my hair out with my impotence. She must be so
frightened... fuck. The thought turns my stomach and I stifle a sob. Cullen Get A
Fucking Grip. Try and keep a level fucking head. Emmett. I need Emmett, even fucking

Hale. I run back out of the ladies.

Emmett knows from my face. He‟s on this in a fucking microsecond. No hesitation. He
doesn‟t clam up like the fucking imbecilic twat that I am, one look at me and he bursts
into the ladies, and I meekly fucking follow him, thanking the sweet Lord that he‟s on

my side.

“Excuse me ladies, we have a situation here - please leave now. No running – thank

you.” He shouts.

The women take one look at him and start dispersing. He doesn‟t waste any time.

He speaks down his sleeve,

“Code blue. Ladies powder room - east side. Lock down required.”

He glances quickly at me.

“She didn‟t come back out – there‟s another way out of here.”

And we both notice a small door at the same time to our right. He‟s through it in
moments and again I follow him. We‟re in what looks like a storeroom and in it there
are rolls of toilet paper, cleaning materials, shit like that. A venue security officer joins
us, all buzz cut and ex-army scowl…. “Here,” he says. And lo and behold behind the
shelves is another door. “This is a service tunnel that leads out to the back of the
theatre. But it only goes to a dead-end back alley. They have to go out front to

Hollywood Boulevard.”

“Hale… out front, main drag. Toward east rear.” Emmett barks down his sleeve and we
are tearing down the tunnel. What scares me is that there are doors off every now and
then … perhaps she went through one of them. Emmett and Buzz Cut are faster than
me… how can Emmett be faster than me..? He‟s the size of a fucking house. I spot
something sparkly on the ground. It‟s six thousand dollars‟ worth of earring. I stop and
pick it up quickly resisting the need to fold up and scream… someone has my little
Bella… fuck, fuck, fuck. I continue running – plenty of time to fall apart later, and
somewhere unwelcome in the back of my mind I‟m thinking - what is it with her and

earrings…?

“I‟ve found her earring!” I shout… all our worst fears are confirmed.

Emmett reaches the double doors to the alley first and bursts through. Buzz Cut follows

and I am out next. Emmett has his gun out… and he high tails it to the end of the alley.

“ARMED POLICE – STOP!” Emmett bellows when he gets to the end of the alley, and
he‟s pointing his Glock 40 and then I hear gunfire…. no no no no… Bella could be in the
line of fire. Buzz Cut and I reach the main road at the same time…. and about a hundred
yards from us there‟s a fucking body lying prone on the pavement, all high-heels and

skirt, a dark cloud oozing under the body.

NO! NO! NO!…. Fuck. I can hear fucking sirens wailing… there are swarms of black
suited security, forming a cordon, keeping the fucking jackal pack of paparazzi off.
There‟s screaming and loud fucking noises and I can smell the salt fucking peter from
the gunfire. Two members of the LAPD pull up on bikes but my eyes are drawn to Hale
who‟s sitting near the body on the pavement…. and to my little Bella, limp and ashen
wrapped in fucking Hale‟s arms, on his lap as he‟s sunk to the pavement holding her.
He‟s rocking gently backwards and forwards and caressing her face, stroking her hair
and whispering gently. My choking fear blooms loud and fucking large in my belly and
throat and then I‟m running… like fuck to Hale… to my baby girl. She looks fucking
lifeless and I‟m praying… praying like my pagan, heathen, non-practicing, non-

believing fucking arse has never prayed in my life.

Let her be okay… Let her be okay… Please Lord… Let her be okay.

One of the LAPD officers is examining the body lying on the pavement. The other is
knelt beside Hale. He sees me, Emmett and Buzz Cut barrelling towards him and he
stands to hold us back. As we are running towards the harrowing scene two LAPD

squad cars pull up and officers pile out.

“US Marshal” Emmett bawls at the police officer waving some badge in his hand. We
reach Hale.

Emmett ducks down beside him and I peer down… terrified.

“Jasper…”

“She‟s alive,” is all he says and I melt to the ground, relief bringing me to my knees,
knocking a hole the size of Alaska in me. Hale turns to stare up at me, luminous hazel
eyes glaring at me, filled with fucking pain, loathing and some emotion that I don‟t want
to name… Don’t you just wish fucksmith? They say. And I know he loves her. Loves her

like I do. And I know he‟s not going to relinquish her to me.

I glance towards the other body… and it‟s not a woman, it‟s a man in drag… how fucking

weird is that..? Beside him a long blonde wig has fallen on to the pavement.

An ambulance pulls up and two paramedics leap out of with a stretcher. They attend to
the Transvestite… he‟s alive… though not for much longer by the looks of him. He has a
large bullet hole in his chest. Bile rises in my throat looking at him. This is the fucker
who took little Bella. He is quickly strapped onto the stretcher and loaded into the
ambulance. As it departs another arrives for Bella. The paramedics leap out with a
stretcher for her. Jasper shifts and gently lays her out on the stretcher as the
paramedics strap on an oxygen mask and cover her with a blanket. They load her up.

What‟s wrong with her? Why is she unconscious? My mind is churning…

I stand to follow her and Hale into the ambulance.

“You‟ve done enough fucking damage Cullen. I don‟t think you should be coming with

us.” He snarls at me.

“You‟re not going to stop me…” I growl at him through clenched teeth.

“If she hadn‟t been here, she‟d have been with us in New York… safe.” He snaps.

The paramedic tending to Bella takes one look at the pair of us.

“You, there…” she points at me to sit on one side of the ambulance. “You, there.”

Hale sits at the other end. “Both of you, quiet please or neither of you will travel.” She‟s

taking no shit… and she turns her attention back to pale Bella.

The driver climbs into the cab, sets the siren and we‟re off, Hale and I alternately

glowering at each other and looking longingly at Bella.

-----------

We wait anxiously in a private anteroom off the ER of the Hollywood Community
Hospital. Emmett converses quietly with Hale who occasionally glances maliciously at
me. They are talking to an LAPD officer. Taylor is on his crackberry talking to the Line
Producer about me not being available to work tomorrow. None of us sit… we pace, we

fidget, we pray and we wait, and wait… and fucking wait. It‟s fucking purgatory.

Finally a doctor emerges through the double doors and heads over to our party.

“Next of kin for Isabella Swann?”

Emmett and I both step forward and the doctor looks confusedly at us both.

“She has no next of kin.” Emmett clarifies. “I‟m the US Marshal assigned to protect her

and this is her…”

“Fiancé.” I answer… because frankly boyfriend doesn‟t cover it… I flush slightly… shit…

I have to ask her…

Hale glares at me… and I can feel his animosity hit me like a brick fucking wall.

“She‟s been drugged. Flunitrazepam we suspect. Roofie, is the streetname – but we‟re
awaiting the results of the tox screen. She‟s hit her head pretty hard and she has

concussion, but she‟s conscious and she‟s asking for you Mr Cullen.” He turns to me…

Oh thank fuck… Relief washes through me like a soothing fucking balm and I feel

momentarily dizzy with elation and gratitude.

“We‟d like to keep her under observation tonight – but she should be free to leave

tomorrow provided she continues her recovery.”

“How did she hit her head?”

Hale has come forward to hear the doctor‟s prognosis.

“The assailant dropped her when I shot him.” He says simply, radiating self-righteous

triumph. Fuck… Hale shot the fucker and I turn and grin at him… like a fucking idiot.

“Well done,” I murmur.

“I didn‟t do it for you,” he hisses at me… but I don‟t give a fuck. I‟m just glad he‟s with

us.

“I need to talk about protecting her, here in the hospital.” Emmett says to the doctor.

“I‟ll have our senior administrator come and talk to you. We‟ll move her to a private

room shortly. Mr Cullen, would you follow me please.”

“Lead the way.” I want to see my little Bella.

-------------

She‟s wearing a pale blue hospital gown, all small and scrunched up in her bed in the
trauma room. An intravenous drip is attached to her arm. My heart lurches to see her,
pale as fuck, facing the window and I can see the small red bruise on her forehead. She

turns her dark, luminous, solemn eyes to stare at me as I enter the room.

“Hi… How are feeling?” I murmur and take her little hand and kiss it gently as I sit

down beside her.

She stares at me, her expression unreadable and squeezes my hand softly.

“Oh Edward… I‟m sorry,” she whispers.

“You have nothing to apologise for… I‟m so sorry that I‟ve put you at risk by bringing

you here to Hollywood. Forgive me.”

“This isn‟t you Edward, it‟s me…” she says quietly. “I‟m dangerous to be around.” And a
large tear falls down her cheek…. Oh fuck… where is she going with this? The dread I‟d
felt only two hours or so earlier spawns again in my belly.

“Baby, please don‟t cry.” I reach up and wipe her tear away, stroking her soft cheek.

“I don‟t think we should do this…” She says quietly. “If something were to happen to

you I‟d never forgive myself.”

I stare at her as the abyss yawns open in front of me again… fuck…

“Don‟t go there Bella. I know what you‟re going to say and I just don‟t want to hear it.

You are not leaving me.” I grip her hand tighter and I glare at her.

She reaches up and gently strokes my cheek… her eyes full of tortured pain.

“Edward, I love you. I will do anything to protect you. I can‟t be with you.” She shakes

her head sadly.

“No Bella… you‟ve just had a really nasty knock to your head, you‟ve got some hideous
drug pumping through your system, following a horrible traumatic ordeal. I am not
going to let you make any hasty decisions right now. Please. Don‟t do this.” Panic is
gripping my throat, strangling me. She wears the same sad determined look she had in

the court office when she told me about her life as a fugitive.

“Please, Edward. Don‟t make this harder for me… If you have any feelings for me you‟ll

let me go. I cannot be with you. You are too precious to me. Please. Go.”

“Please Bella,” my voice is hoarse. “I want you to be my wife. Don‟t do this. Please.”

She gasps and her tears begin to flow in earnest.

“No Edward. Go, please.”

She stares at me. And she will give no quarter. Her mind is resolute. She is

unequivocal… it is over.

“Please, go.” She says again.

“You dropped this…” I whisper and place her earring in her hand and as the world that
I‟ve known for only a short, short happy time crashes and shatters around me, I stand
and lean over her and kiss her gently on her forehead. I inhale her fragrant hair for the
last time, closing my eyes and drinking it in. Without another word I quit the room
leaving my heart, my soul, my peace of mind, my reason to exist in the trauma room

with her.

~*~

Chapter Twenty-Four

I arrive back in the ER. Taylor frowns at me, anxiety immediately etched on his face.

“We need to go and get drunk,” I say without humour to him.

“Okay,” he replies hanging up on his phone immediately and staring at me with a

furrowed brow.

“Emmett - goodbye and thank you.” I shake Emmett‟s hand.

“Mr Cullen,” he acknowledges but he‟s puzzled.

“Hale,” I say just so that I can leave, he looks at me blankly and I turn on my heel and

head out of the Hollywood Community Hospital into the cool LA night.

------------

It‟s seven in the morning. I haven‟t slept and I‟ve had a fucking skinful of booze…
Somewhere in my mind I know I reek like shit… stale alcohol oozing from my pores. I

practically fall out of the cab and wend my way back into the hospital to reception.

The receptionist looks up at me expectantly and frowns deeply when she sees me.

“Isabella Swann please.”

She arches her eyebrow censoriously at me, looking me up and down and really not

liking what she sees. Eventually she looks at her computer screen.

“Miss Swann is in room 411 on floor three,” she says through pursed lips.

“Wasn‟t so hard was it?” I growl at her… condescending bitch…

I make my way slowly to floor three. The hospital is relatively quiet and on some deep
level I‟m relieved – no hassle from rabid teens… I can see Emmett slumped in a chair
outside a room. He stands when he hears me dragging my feet up the corridor. He

glances round and walks towards me.

“Hello Mr Cullen. She really doesn‟t want to see you.”

He doesn't beat around the fucking bush...

“What?” I don‟t fucking believe it.

“I have strict instructions. Besides she‟s sleeping and she needs sleep – as do you,” he
says sternly. I try to push past him and he puts his hands on my shoulders. “Mr Cullen -
Edward, Please. I will prevent you from seeing her, don‟t make me do that… Give her
time… that‟s what she needs.” I stare into his dark eyes and the roiling anger I felt as he

put his hands on my shoulders slowly dissipates.

“Time..? How long?”

Emmett shrugs. “At least until the trial‟s over. I‟ve got to know her over these last few
months. Once she‟s made up her mind… that‟s it. If after the trial she‟s no longer in

danger… she‟ll rethink. She‟s one stubborn woman…”

I snort without humour. I nod. I know that I‟m in no fit state to take on Emmett… and if
she doesn‟t want to see me, what can I do? Again I feel so fucking impotent. Resignedly
I head back the way I came. When I reach the end of the corridor I turn… Emmett is

still watching me.

“Tell her I came.”

“I will Mr Cullen. Get some rest Sir.”

---------------

The duck pond in Barnes looks the same. It‟s late August and my folks, Pansy my
westie, and I wander round. There are families, couples and kids everywhere. It‟s very
English… very home. My mother has prepared some bread for the ducks and she gives

me a bag. We have done this for as long as I can remember.

“Darling, you‟re so quiet. I can‟t believe it‟s just the work that‟s made you like this.” She
throws some bread to the ducks and I do the same.

My mother is all-knowing. What is it about mothers… do they develop a sixth sense

when their children are born? It‟s so fucking unnerving.

“Mum, I‟m just tired. I haven‟t really had a rest for the last two years. I need to recharge

my batteries and I can‟t think of a better place to do it than at home.”

“You still think of here as home?” she asks in surprise.

“Mum, London will always be home.”

She smiles. “I‟m glad, darling.” She frowns at me. “Edward, there‟s something else… I
know, if you don‟t want to tell me, that‟s fine… but if you do… I‟m here.” She leans up
and kisses my cheek fondly. I put my arm around her and lean my head on hers…

“Oh Mum… it‟s complicated,” and I tell her about Bella… I don‟t give her all the gory

details - this is my mum…

“So let me get this straight, you‟ve met a girl, you‟ve fallen in love, she‟s concerned
about you, so she‟s finished with you, because she‟s in a very difficult situation, and
you‟ve run back here with your tail between your legs… not that I‟m not delighted to see
you, because I am… but really Edward…” She doesn‟t say anymore, she doesn‟t have
to… shit… she‟s fucking disappointed in me. My Dad joins us, Pansy wagging her tail
behind him… no way am I telling him about this… Dr Cullen would not be as reserved in
his condemnation as my mother. He eyes the two of us as he leans down to put Pansy

on her lead.

“Shall we head back to the house?”

My mother smiles fondly at him and puts her arm through mine and we make our way

back down the High Street.

“Edward, whatever you decide to do… you can count on us.”

“I know Mum… and I‟m sorry.”

-------------

Even though I am renting a flat in Notting Hill, I lie on my bed in the bedroom that I
grew up in… staring at the Arsenal poster on the far wall. Part of me is appalled that my
folks haven‟t redecorated this room in the four years since I‟ve moved out… and part of
me, is very, very pleased. The last few times I have been here this has been a safe haven.
Somewhere to rest my weary head, where I can be me, where I‟m fed and watered and
loved… without all the fucking madness. Today though, I feel restless. There‟s
something missing and I know who that is… I feel so fucking flat. It‟s been over three
weeks since the awards ceremony. Over three weeks since I‟ve seen Bella. The trial is
over, the Volturi Brothers convicted each receiving life sentences. I‟ve been keeping
track via the internet… as it‟s not been reported in the UK at all. For the millionth time I

wonder how she is… If she‟s in hiding again? Will she always have to be in hiding? And
the familiar empty fuck awful ache engulfs me again. I hug my pillow… Emmett said

give her time… How long? What should I do?

“Edward.” My mother calls up the stairs. “There‟s someone here to see you.”

What… who the fuck? My heart leaps into my mouth… who knows I‟m here…? I jump
up from bed and bound down to the first floor taking the stairs two at a time and swing
round the newel post from the first floor to the hallway beneath. It‟s Alistair my old
school chum. To my eternal shame I feel a twinge of regret that it‟s not her… but it‟s still

lovely to see him.

“Hello Hollywood, how are you doing?” He says with a big fuck-off grin.

--------------

We are in the Blue Anchor pub, by the Thames in Hammersmith. It‟s late, we‟re really

pissed and I‟ve told him everything.

“So, Ed, what you need to do is fly back to the States and fucking find her.”

I nod sagely. “I don‟t know where the fuck she is…”

“You‟re a man of means… you can track her down.”

“I tried to once before… FBI said no…”

“No fucking way…”

“Yep…”

“Fuck, that‟s rough… Shall we go clubbing in town…?”

I shake my head. “I‟m too trashed and some pap‟ll snap me puking outside Bungalow 8
or something… I don‟t want to leave the safe confines of West London… We could go

back to my flat… if I can remember where it is…”

“Cool, I‟ve got some good green…”

“Fucking A…”

--------------

Sunlight pierces my eyelids with relentless fucking… blinding light. Fuck. My head is
pounding. Fuck… I haven‟t felt this bad since… since… little Bella Swann told me to fuck
off… I put my arm over my eyes, open them and try and gauge where I am - the
surroundings are unfamiliar… I‟m in my rented flat and I‟ve forgotten to close the
fucking blinds and curtains. I‟m fully dressed and on top of the covers… I groan and
turn over, reaching for the nearest pillow to cover pull over my head. I vaguely
remember Alistair saying he had to leave early this morning for work… poor fucker I

think and fall back into a hung-over stupor.

I am woken later by loud hammering on the door… fuck… who the fuck is this? I
practically fall out of bed in my haste to get up. The light is more muted… it must be late
afternoon. Fuck I‟ve slept most of the day. I reach down to my phone.

“Edward!” I hear my mother‟s voice outside …. fuck… what does she want? She sounds

concerned.

My phone says 37 missed calls… fuck…. fucking Taylor hassling me no doubt…

“Okay Mum I‟m coming.” I grumble.

I open the door. My mother is glowering at me, really fucked off… but beside her stands
- Fuck me - Emmett Fucking McCarty, US Marshal – on my doorstep. What the fuck is
he doing in Notting Hill? Shit - I stop fucking breathing…. oh no… Bella – is she okay?

Shit… fuck… The abyss beckons again….

“Edward, you look a complete and utter state,” my mother scolds me as she pushes past

me, uninvited. I drag my hand through my hair.

“Come in Mum…” I say to her retreating back and I turn to look at Emmett.

“Hi, Emmett, come in.” I shake his hand. “Is she okay?” Cut to the fucking chase. I‟m

holding my breath.

“Yes,” he replies simply. Relief threatens to overwhelm me. Emmett follows my mother

and I double over with my hands on my knees… thank fuck she‟s okay.

“Edward would you like some tea?”

“Yes please Mum”

“Mr McCarty, more tea?”

“Yes please Mrs Cullen.”

“Oh, please call me Esme.”

Emmett looks out of place and uncomfortable in my living room.

“Please sit Emmett, make yourself at home. When did you arrive in London?”

“Thanks Mr Cullen.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Edward, please.”

He smiles. “Edward. I arrived yesterday evening. Managed to track you down via the

FBI.” He winks at me. I decide to think about that later…

“So what brings you here Emmett?”

Emmett glances warily at my mother who‟s fussing in the kitchen area. The problem
with open plan living… She doesn‟t look like she‟s paying any attention as she makes tea
and goes through the cupboard looking for fuck knows what. She won‟t find anything…
I think I have about 3 coffee mugs and that‟s it… I‟ve not got round to crockery and

plates and shit.

“It‟s Bella.”

And I am hanging on his every word.

“How is she?” I whisper. He smiles at me… pleased that I obviously still feel the same.

“She‟s good Edward. The trial‟s over. The brothers are behind bars.”

“Is she in hiding?”

“No.”

“Why?” This is good surely, this is good.

“After the failed kidnap attempt the Volturi all turned on each other. Turned out it was
Aro, the eldest brother, whose followers had decided that kidnapping Bella was a good
idea. Caius and Marcus went mad so they all started accusing each other of the murder
– well, their defence case fell apart, so Bella‟s testimony was no longer so important.

She‟s back in Louisiana…”

“I thought she might come and find me,” I said softly.

“She‟s not coming to find you any time soon Edward.”

What the fuck is this… she‟s free… why won‟t she come and see me… what?

"What do you mean?" My heart is thumping again... fuck - I'm going to have a

coronary... or maybe it's just my fucking hangover.

“It‟s not for the reason you think.” He says. “You know I told you how stubborn she can

be…”

I frown at Emmett. What the fuck is going on?

“She‟s pregnant,” he says.

All time stands still and I can feel blood pounding in my ears… not great with a
hangover, my heart is thumping even faster and my scalp fucking prickles. Fuck don't
faint now Cullen.... get a grip …. shit… numerous fucking emotions run through my

hangover fucked up body…

“What?” I whisper, I decide to go for disbelief. I can handle disbelief.

“What?” says my mother at the same time, both of us staring at Emmett.

Emmett glances nervously at my mother and I scowl at him for blurting this out in front

of my fucking mother. He cringes and shrugs apologetically at me…

“She doesn‟t know I know,” he says. "And she doesn't know I'm here..."

“How do you know?”

Emmett has the grace to flush. My mother has come to sit beside me. No tea!

“Mum…please…”

“I‟m not going anywhere Edward… I‟m trying to decide whether to horsewhip you or

start knitting bootees,” she says through clenched teeth…. oh shit she‟s really fucked off.

“I found the test she did.”

“Oh…” An image of Emmett going through Bella‟s rubbish comes to mind… ugh.

“It was positive.”

“So why hasn‟t she contacted me?”

He shrugs.

“She doesn‟t want to force your hand…” he shrugs. “I don‟t know… women – they‟re

kind of weird. No disrespect, Esme…”

“None taken, Mr McCarty…” She smiles briefly at him.

Fuck… the stupid little… oh… sometimes words fail me… anger surges through

me…fuck… I‟d like to take her across my knee sometimes…

“So she‟s back at her Grandmère‟s house?”

“Yes…”

“Is this what you‟ve come to tell me?”

“Yes.”

I grin at him… fuck I‟m going to be a father… fuck me… My mother gets up and swats
me over the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You know what that‟s for…” She glares at me.

I think I fucking blush… but she turns her back on us and heads into the kitchen to

finish making tea.

“So is she on her own?”

“Ah… well… here‟s the thing.”

Oh fuck… and I know… deep down I know what he‟s going to say.

“Jasper has transferred to New Orleans… he‟s from the South…” I cut him off.

“You haven‟t left fucking Jasper fucking Hale looking after her,” I shout.

“Edward… language…” my mother admonishes me from the kitchen.

“He‟s moved into the area….” Emmett trails off.

“NO! FUCK! NO!”

I scramble up off the sofa and head into my bedroom… and grab a holdall and start

stuffing whatever clean clothes I can lay my hands on… I‟m going to New Orleans, now

~*~

Chapter Twenty-Five

Fuck a duck. I‟m in Gone with the Fucking Wind. The house even has those fuck off
columns or colonnades or whatever the fuck they‟re called… it should be called Tara. I
stand with my holdall after a shit awful flight that‟s taken me from London to New York
to fucking Atlanta to New Orleans and then by cab to here, Metairie… It‟s late

afternoon, I‟m dog tired, fucked off… and terrified.

There's a sweeping fucking drive flanked by large trees with mossy green shit dangling
from them… I‟ve only seen this in Forest Gump and films about the Deep South. It‟s
fucking creepy. Give me an English oak any day of the week. As I approach the vast
edifice that little Bella Swann inhabits I can hear, on the warm Louisiana breeze… the
sounds of a cello. I stand mesmerized… it‟s Bach I‟m sure… her passion. And she plays
so fucking well. For a moment, I am transported. I‟m no longer angry… or frightened. I
am soothed and floating on the soft gentle magnolia scented wind… oh fuck… I must
not let this woman slip through my fucking fingers… I could listen to this – all fucking
day. I approach the large white front door and with my heart in my fucking mouth I pull

down on the antiquated doorbell… crikey – this must have been in the original film.

The door opens and a middle-aged woman, with blond curls and piercing blue eyes

looks quizzically at me. Who the fuck is this?

“Can I help you Sir?” She asks in the most drawling southern accent I have ever heard.

“Hi… I‟m here to see Bella.”

“And who shall I say is callin‟?” She asks.

Tell her fucking master fucking Edward… “Edward… please tell her Edward is here.”

Father of her child… Steady Cullen, get a grip.

“Do come in Mr Edward. If you‟d like to wait in the front parlor, I will inform Miss Bella

of your visit…”

Shit… I am in Gone with the Wind… Bella has fucking servants. I enter a wide white
hallway with a dark wood floor… it‟s uncluttered, bright… from another long lost era. At
the end is a wide sweeping staircase that could cope with Scarlet O‟Hara‟s crinoline if
need be… stop with the GWTW fucking metaphors Cullen. I am shown into a light and
airy front room. There are sofas and chairs dotted around and an upright piano in the
corner. The room is all pale blues and whites, gossamer and candy stripes… it‟s quite
delightful.

“Hi…” Little Bella Swan stands in the doorway and my heart somersaults to see her.
She‟s pale, but with a soft, rosy glow in her cheeks - still shy as fuck - with wide

apprehensive eyes and absolutely beautiful.

“Hi…” I reply and I have to hold myself back from rushing up to her and pulling her into
my arms, kissing her to bits and then sinking on to the floor with her… “Nice place you

have here.”

She smiles self-consciously and shrugs. “It‟s home,” she says.

“You look good… better than good.” You look fucking gorgeous and I want to take you to

bed… and fuck you stupid and marry you… “I‟ve missed you.”

And she‟s still hovering in the fucking doorway… and I‟m still standing in the middle of
this room that is from another fucking century…

She glances anxiously down at her fingers. “I‟ve missed you too,” she whispers. And
that‟s my fucking cue. I‟m in front of her in a nanosecond, my arms around her and I‟m
crushing her against me and kissing her pouty lips… forcing them open and invading
her soft sweet mouth with my tongue… god I‟ve missed this woman, she still tastes fan-
fucking-tastic. Her hands are on my shoulders and they move up to my face, she‟s
running her fingers through my stubble, I cannot remember the last time I shaved and
then her little fingers are in my hair holding me to her mouth. Oh Fuck… I want her so
badly, I ache for her on every fucking level… My dick has remembered what it‟s for and

is straining at my fly.

She leans back and gazes at me panting… her eyes full of fucking desire… wow… She
grabs my hand and she‟s pulling me out of the parlor, along the hall, up the wide stairs
and across a wide landing into a large white bedroom. In it there‟s a kingsize dark wood
bed with chaste white bedding on it and over it there‟s hanging a fuck-off gossamer
mosquito net… but I don‟t really take in the surroundings. I‟m undoing her pretty green
wrap dress and shrugging out of my jacket and she‟s taking off my t-shirt… I‟m stepping
out of my trainers and I‟m no longer tired or terrified - I‟m rigid with desire for this
woman… I pull her into my arms again and kiss her… really, really kiss her… four
fucking weeks of kissing to make up for. I undo her bra and push her towards the bed.
She‟s scrabbling at the button on my jeans and unzipping my fly… wow… this is so
fucking A. Our clothes are making a telltale trail towards the bed. I shrug out of my
jeans and my boxers and my dick springs free. Bella gasps and grabs me and then she‟s
sinking to her fucking knees in front of me… shit no… and with no warning at all - I‟m
in her hot sweet wet warm mouth… fuck… I hold her head and she‟s doing that tongue
thing… fuck… I groan… shit… and she‟s sucking and running her lips down me and I
can feel the back of her throat and then she‟s using her teeth on the way up… Christ on a

fucking four-wheeled bicycle…

“Bella no,” I pant and I pull her on to her feet… “This will be over in fucking seconds if
you continue that…” I whisk off her panties, leaving them on the floor with the rest of
our clothes and I pull her down on to the bed on top of me. My hands wrapped around
her head, entwined in her fucking silky clean shiny hair. I pull her to my mouth again
and I roll over so she‟s underneath me. Oh the feel of her… she‟s soft and warm and
willing under me… I kiss her mouth, her eyelids, her cheeks and I run my tongue along
her jaw to her earlobe, which I tease gently with my teeth. I kiss her down her throat
and all the time she‟s cradling my head, pulling my hair and breathing raggedly in my

ear…

“Please…” she whispers softly and it‟s such a turn-on… my little Bella wants me… I kiss
her throat and follow a trail down between her breasts, I kiss one nipple, sucking it into
my mouth, feeling it stiffen under my tongue and my teeth. I suckle it - hard. With my
hand I fondle and toy with her other nipple, pulling gently, as it steels and elongates
under my fingers… and her whole body bows beneath me and she moans… loudly. Love
that sound. My hand trails down over her soft tummy… still flat… and my mouth
follows kissing her gently, I‟m inhaling her delicious, intoxicating Bella scent, still
sweet, still homely… I kiss her belly reverentially, my tongue swirling round her navel.
My hand slips through her pubic hair and slides over her sex and my finger dips inside
her…. sweet fuck… she‟s hot, she‟s wet… so wet… ready for me. I push her thighs apart
with my legs and I ease myself into her… oh my… while she moans again and pulls
harder on my hair… sweet fuck. I move slowly savouring the exquisite feel of her around
me… fuck… she is my safe haven - wherever she is. I grasp her head and I kiss her as I‟m
pushing into her and I pick up the rhythm… she‟s gasping softly in my ear and her
hands are running down my back over my hips to my arse and she‟s pushing me, willing
me faster… fuck. I can feel her stiffening beneath me… a quiver inside her… oh fuck…
she‟s ready and I pump harder, faster, possessing her… she‟s fucking mine. No one
else‟s…my little Bella… and she erupts around me… whispering my name and I follow,
pouring my fucking heart and soul into her… again and again… sweet holy fuck. I can
feel the last ripples of her orgasm around me and I shift and hold her against me as I

roll so that we‟re still joined but she‟s lying on top of me.

“Bella… love… Marry me… please?” I whisper.

She glances up at me - her eyes wide, her lips parted in surprise.

“Bella… Please.”

We hear a distant bell chime. The fucking doorbell. Bella blinks rapidly… “Oh Shit!” She
says as she must realise who it is and she scoots off me and scrambles to the floor
grabbing her green dress, and wrapping it around herself, doing up the ties hastily, all

fingers and thumbs.

“Miss Bella,” I can hear mysterious blond woman call. Shit, she‟s just outside the open

bedroom door… fuck… did she hear everything? “Mr Hale is here to see yawl.”

WHAT!

“Thanks Mrs Cope,” she calls. “Stay here please,” she says… “I‟ll ask him to leave.”

Stay here - I don‟t fucking think so…

“Answer me Bella.”

“Edward… it‟s complicated.”

What? Fuck… what now… why can‟t she just say yes…? She‟s so fucking frustrating.

“I need to talk to you – please wait. I‟ll be back in a moment.” She heads out of the room
and I‟m appalled that in her haste she‟s not put any underwear on and she‟s meeting
that fucksmith….

I climb out of bed and pull on my jeans… I don‟t bother with anything else, shit I‟m not
even going to do the top button up… I want him to see me like this – I want him in
absolutely no doubt what I‟ve been doing… with her. Not very gentlemanly I know… but

it‟s no more Mr Fucking nice guy. Hale is seriously getting on my tits.

I can hear them talking in the front parlor.

“I‟m sorry Jasper but now is not a good time.”

“Are you okay Bella..? You look… kind of flushed, unsettled.” - Well fucked is what she
is mate... Oh I‟ve had enough of this bullshit. I go and stand in the doorway. He‟s sat…

with her on the sofa.

“Edward.” Bella admonishes me… presumably for my lack of dress… well you‟re not

wearing any knickers… I narrow my eyes at her.

“Cullen…” Hale whispers blanching.

“Hale,” I‟m calm… impassive. Yeah fucksmith… Don’t you just wish…?

He looks from me to her and he‟s fucking furious.

“I can see you‟re otherwise engaged Bella,” he murmurs.

“Edward… please.” Bella looks imploringly at me… which loosely translated means…

fuck off now - I‟m having a moment.

“I‟ll go back upstairs…” I emphasise the last word.

She cringes… yes – you‟re mine sweetheart and the sooner the fucksmith realises, the
sooner he‟ll get the fuck over you… I turn and leave them… mission accomplished…

fucking bastard that I am.

I wait at the top of the stairs and in spite of all that I‟ve been taught - I listen - knowing

that I shouldn‟t.

“Goodbye Bella…” Hale‟s voice is hoarse… rough, he‟s suffering poor bastard and a very,
very small part of me feels sorry for him. He‟s fallen in love with her… who can blame
him? She‟s beyond lovely… “You‟ve obviously made your bed… you can lie in it.” He
snaps at her. And it takes every single atom of my self-control not to leap down the

fucking stairs and fucking pulverise him. How dare he talk to my little Bella like that?

“Jasper please, don‟t be like that…” she‟s fucking pleading with him. “I can‟t help the
way I feel…” Don’t fucking apologise to him… I head back to the bedroom knowing I
can‟t listen to any more – knowing that she‟s going to be fucking pissed off when she
heads back up here. If she‟s going to be cross with me, I‟d rather be dressed. I put my t-
shirt on and sit on the edge of the bed waiting for her. I don‟t wait long. She wanders
into the room and she‟s been crying… fuck… she dashes the tears from her face and
raises sad, dark eyes to me. I feel a complete and utter bastard… fuck… I so don‟t want

to fuck this up.

“I‟m sorry…” I murmur… please fucking forgive me… I run my hand through my hair….

shit, shit, shit…

“No Edward, I‟m sorry.” Oh fuck…. the abyss opens its foul mouth before me… Where‟s
she going with this? “I‟ve been practically living with him and Emmett for the last eight
months. He saved my life, Edward… I don‟t want to hurt him… I owe him that much…”
She comes and sits beside me on the bed, staring at her knotted fingers. “I know he likes

me… he‟s told me,” she whispers. “I just wanted to let him down gently.”

Oh thank fuck… relief courses through me… so much so I feel like doubling over and

catching my breath, as if I‟ve run a fucking marathon.

“I‟m sorry Bella… it‟s just I haven‟t seen you since you banished me from the hospital…
you were all broken and sad, and I am eaten up with jealousy over him. I thought…

whilst I‟ve been away….” I shrug my voice trailing off as my throat constricts.

“Oh Edward… it‟s only ever been you…” Her voice is raw…

“Why didn‟t you let me know that you were back here… out of protective custody? I just

don‟t understand. You know I love you…”

She bites her lip and stares at me… with dark, scared eyes. The hairs on the back of my

neck tingle… what the fuck?

“What is it, Bella?” I stare intently at her… the abyss is threatening again…

Tears pool in her eyes… oh fuck… what is it? She‟s killing me.

“Baby, tell me… what‟s wrong?”

“I‟m pregnant,” she says in a very small voice, and she peeks up at me through her long

dark lashes, fearfully.

I close my eyes, oh thank Christ… is that all?

“Baby, I know…” I murmur and I pull her into my arms.

She gasps. “How do you know?” She demands, confused.

“I shall only tell you if you promise not be mad.”

She frowns at me. “Okay…” she says uncertainly.

“Emmett came to London to tell me. Told me that you were here and that the threat

from the Volturi Brothers was no more....”

Her little pouty mouth pops open.

“And when we made love just now… you didn‟t stop me… you know… no

contraception… that kind of confirmed it for me."

She scowls at me, opens her mouth to say something… then closes it again, confused.
She has another go... “I thought you would be mad… and you‟d leave, I couldn't face
telling you,” she puts her hand protectively over her belly. “You‟re such a hot shot movie
star… why would you want to be saddled with me… when you can have anyone you

want.” and in her dark eyes I can see insecurity and self doubt…

“Oh you silly girl. I‟m sitting here begging you to take me back, and hoping and praying
that you will. I don‟t deserve you. I don‟t want anyone else… I'll never want anyone
else... Only you Bella. I love you. Marry me?” Inspiration hits me and I sink to my knees
in front of her and pull her gold earring out of my jeans pocket and slip it on to her
finger.

“Isabella Swann, I love you, I will always love you, please marry me, be my wife?”

She gapes at me and tears begin to pour down her face. “Oh Edward, of course I will,”
she murmurs and my mouth splits in half in the biggest fuck off grin as joy surges
through me. Unparalleled, deep seated, monumental, all consuming fucking Joy… She

really is mine and I pull her down into my arms on to my lap and kiss her, hard.

“We‟ll get a ring… you can choose it…” I murmur.

“And you don‟t mind about the baby?”

I nuzzle her ear, “I can remember when we made love the last time, before the awards
ceremony, and you said you wouldn‟t get pregnant, I was the tiniest bit disappointed.
Bella, I want lots of kids… you‟ll make a wonderful mother. If you want to go to Julliard
– we‟ll live in New York… we‟ll get a nanny for the baby or maybe I‟ll stay home and
become a househusband… I‟ll even live here… You are where my home is… You are my
safe haven, away from all the madness, where I can be me … and I so want to be that for
you.” She‟s crying in earnest now, her fingers in my hair and she‟s kissing my face, my

jaw, my throat.

“Oh Edward, I love you so much. Please make love to me again…”

And it would be rude of me not to oblige....

~*~

Chapter Twenty-Six

The hall is hushed and quiet. Amongst the crowd I can hear the scraping of the odd
chair, a cough or two round the hall and the orchestra fidgeting away and of course the

whispering.

“She‟s Edward Cullen‟s wife.”

“Lucky Cow – how did she land him…?”

“Wasn‟t she involved in that trial…?”

“Do you think he‟s here…?”

I am, in my hoodie… keeping my fucking head down… waiting to hear her play.

This is her first solo performance since she‟s been back at Julliard.

She is so endearingly nervous… and I don‟t like her nervous… I hate to think what‟s it‟s
doing to the baby. She doesn‟t even show yet, but I‟m looking forward to kissing her
swollen belly and finding interesting positions to make love to her… she‟s so fucking
brazen and up for anything… I smile at the X-rated memory of this morning. So

inventive too… hmmm…

We have been married for three weeks. Three weeks of fucking heavenly, who would
believe it, eternal fucking flame, once in a life-time, true soul mate, connubial bliss…
We are nauseating as a couple. I cannot keep my fucking hands off her… and because
she‟s my wife... I don‟t have to… and I‟m wandering from meeting to meeting with a

completely gormless fuck-off smile on my face and I just don‟t give a shit.

We married in a sweet little Disney style chapel in Vegas… it had to be quick – well she
is pregnant. My folks were there… and of course they adore her. My sisters pitched up
and so did Taylor and Emmett. By common consent we don‟t mention the J word… but
I could tolerate him now… she‟s fucking mine after all, and I have the ring on her finger

to prove it… and he did save her life.

The wedding night was in Room 1114, where else. She didn‟t want the Caribbean or the
Greek Islands or the Great Wall of fucking China or any of that bollocks… just the two of
us – no turndown service – in our room… oh and what a night that was. I shift
uncomfortably in my chair remembering… and it will be at least an hour before I get her

home...

We now live in New York… which is fab. We‟re in her little apartment on the Upper
West side and we‟re going to look for a new place soon. She‟s gone back to Julliard, and
I start filming on my next project in New York next week… Life doesn‟t get much

fucking better than this…

The murmur in the crowd dies down and on to the stage she walks. My beautiful little
Bella, still shy as fuck - pale as fuck except for her lovely rosy-glow cheeks. She‟s
wearing some fucking frothy concoction of a dress in subtle shade of pale blue. She sits
down and looks to the orchestra behind her… the conductor in front of her and then she
begins to play. Oh my… and as the notes swirl and fill the room with the sweetest

fucking sound… I am carried away by the music to my safe haven.

~*~

- The End -