A/N: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own the story in front of you.

Chapter 1 – Stranger

"Mom, I'm going out with Catharine and Melanie tonight."

"Where are you going?" My mom watched me carefully for my reply. I knew what she was doing — she was checking to see if I would lie to her. It made me so angry.

"Melanie is having a party at her home and she invited both me and Catharine to come. Don't look at me like that, I'm not lying to you!" I yelled. I was tired of it. Ever since I turned eighteen on September, my mother became like a hawk watching over me. All I had to do was mention a guy's name and she would immediately begin to suspect that I was sleeping with him. If I mentioned a party — she would give me a lecture about underage drinking. And worst of all — she always thought I was lying to her.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me, young lady!"

"Then stop thinking I'm lying to you all the time! I'm not YOU! I am ME!" I shouted. Just because my mother married right out of high school and had me a year later, did not mean that I was about to follow in her footsteps.

"I'm doing my best to make sure that you won't become me!" My mother raised her voice.

"Leave the girl alone, Rene. You know she's smart enough not to repeat your mistakes, honey." Phil — my stepfather — tried to calm her down.

"Phil, stay out of it!"

Phil looked at me apologetically and shrugged, as if saying 'Sorry, I tried'. I gave him a weak smile. It wasn't his fault that my mother was paranoid. I didn't get it though. I never got into trouble. I was a straight A student at school, my GPA was four point oh, both Catharine and Melanie were my best friends since kinder garden and my mother knew both their parents', I've never even been kissed for crying out loud!

"Mom, please. It's only a party. You know everyone who's going."

"Fine." My mother huffed, "but be home at ten!"

"But mom, it's Saturday!"

"I don't care, Bella. You will be home at ten sharp AND NOT ONE MINUTE LATER!"

"I hate you!" I shouted and ran upstairs to my bedroom.

I was still mad at my mom when I got to the party. As soon as I walked through the door Melanie took me to the side. The girl always knew how to read my like an open book.

"You had a fight with your mom?" she asked, already knowing the answer would be 'yes'.

I nodded.

"You poor thing." She gave me a tight hug. "She'll come around."

"I hope so" I whispered, still hugging her. Melanie had the unfortunate luck of being present during one of my fights with Rene, and just like any other person in town — she knew all about how my erratic mother married her high school sweetheart at eighteen only to divorce him less than two years later and move to Phoenix. Although Rene always said that she didn't regret having me, I could never stop wondering if she really meant that. Maybe if she wouldn't have had me, she could have made it work with my dad Charlie.

My dad… that was another touchy subject in my home. He's the chief of police in a small town called Forks in the state of Washington. I used to visit him every summer until I was fourteen, when I finally put my foot down and refused to be stuck two months each summer away from all of my friends. For the past three summers, Charlie came to visit me for two weeks in August, here in Phoenix.

I loved my dad, and even though he wasn't a man of many words, especially when it came to the subject of emotions, I knew he loved me as well. I may have hated Forks and the weather there, but I liked having my dad around.

The house was empty when I got back home that night. Catharine's brother dropped me off so I wouldn't have to walk in the darkness. I didn't mind. Melanie's house was only a few block away from mine, but he insisted that he didn't want his sister's best friend to walk alone in the dark.

I didn't break curfew and my mother wasn't even home to see it. I huffed. Suits her, she's always thinking about herself first. I immediately regretted the thought. It wasn't true. Rene may have been a little scatterbrained, but she loved me. The only reason she fought with me was because she was thinking about me. I was sorry that I yelled at her, I was never so angry in my life. I can' believe I said that I hated her.

The house was still empty when I fell asleep. I'll talk to her tomorrow, I'll tell her that I love her, that I didn't mean what I said.

I never got the chance.

~.~.~

Three years later...

"Bella? We're here" Alice's voice brought me back from my memories. I looked around me. We stopped in front of a house somewhere outside downtown Seattle.

"Ok," I said.

Alice was my roommate in college. She was dating Rose's twin brother — Jasper — since senior year in high school. They were the only two girls I allowed myself to get close to in recent years, but I never told them about that night, three years ago, on December.

Everyone in the small town of Forks knew that my mother died in an accident during my senior year in high school and that I moved in with my dad after that. It was the talk of the town during my first week here, but no one knew more than the dry facts.

I closed up after the accident. I didn't speak unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then kept my answers short. Alice befriended me on my first day of school. She didn't let my quiet behavior deter her and eventually, she became my closest friend. She was the only reason I wasn't completely alone during my last months of high school. I met Rose only on graduation day. She and her brother Jasper came to be there for Alice, and Alice took the opportunity to introduce us.

When I went to college — Washington State in Seattle, I didn't want to get too far away from Charlie — Alice and I became roommates. We both studied journalism. Alice wanted to become a columnist in a famous fashion magazine and she said that she already knew her fashion, so she only needed to take care of the writing part. I studied the same, it wasn't my first choice, but they didn't have an English Lit program, so I went with Journalism.

Alice was a lifesaver. She kept me from sinking too seep into my depression after my mother died. She would insist that I come with her to parties and clubs, despite my lack of will to do so, but in the end, it did stop me from moping around the dorm on my own.

Rose was a bit intimidating at first, and I had a sense that she didn't really like me. However, as I got to know her better, and as she saw that I wasn't hanging around Alice because of her family's money — Alice was a Cullen, the richest family in Forks — Rose warmed up to me.

And yet, no matter how hard they tried, December was always a rough time for me. During my first two years in college, I would stay in the dorms during the holidays; Charlie was never much for tradition, and I couldn't stand so many people being festive while all I wanted to do was cry. So my dad would go to the Blacks for Christmas, and I would stay in Seattle.

This year, Alice said that she would not have any of it. I tried to resist but she played dirty. And by dirty I mean treating me to the most heartbroken expression I've ever seen on a person, one that made me feel as though I just told a six-year-old girl that Santa didn't exist while running over her puppy and taking away her favorite candy. Yeah, it was that bad! This is how I found myself all dressed up — courtesy of four hours of Barbie-Bella with Alice and Rose — going to a party across town where I knew no one, but the people I came with.

"Here," Rose shoved a bottle of beer in my hand.

I looked at her and raised my brow.

"Don't look at me like that! You're old enough, and it's a party!"

I gave her a weak smile. It wasn't her fault that I wanted to be back in my room, wearing my sweats instead of this ridiculous dress that was much too short, and drinking a cup of hot chocolate rather than a cold beer that I had no desire of drinking.

I didn't know whose house it was, only that it belonged to some relative of Alice's that was out of town for the weekend, or maybe it was some friend of Alice's relative? Hell, I don't really care.

After giving me the beer, Rose disappeared inside. I searched for Alice amongst the dozens of people in the house, but it was impossible to see her. I took a sip from the beer and made a face. It tasted like medicine, bitter and cold.

I made my way to the kitchen. It was just across the living room, so it wasn't hard to find. I placed my now-empty beer bottle on the counter and watched the street from the window. It was too dark to see much, just mountains of white covering every flat surface. It never snowed in Phoenix. Not even in the middle of the winter. Not even on that night. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to remember, but the words kept playing in my head. The last words I ever said to my mother were "I hate you," and at the time I said it, I meant every word. I took another beer bottle from the countertop and downed it in several gulps, not caring about the taste anymore. I was never drunk before, but it seemed like a good escape at the moment.

I didn't even know I was crying until someone touched my shoulder and asked in a soft velvet voice, "Are you all right?"

I turned my head to look at the person talking to me and realized that I couldn't make out the shape of his face. I quickly wiped away my tears and murmured, "Yes, I'm fine."

"Here, looks like you could use it."

A small shot glass was pushed inside my hands. It contained a clear liquid, which — considering the size of the glass — was probably vodka, not water.

I drank it in one gulp, throwing my head back. I cringed as my throat suddenly burst into flames and tears came to my eyes once again.

The man chuckled.

It was such a seductive sound that I felt my insides twist inside me. It was an odd sensation, one that I've never felt.

I looked at the man, seeing him clearly for the first time. He had the most amazing green eyes I had ever seen. They were so deep and rich in color that I felt I could look in them and never find all the secrets they held. He was smiling, but it wasn't a full smile with teeth showing. It was just a slight curve of his lips, a crooked smile that should belong in the bedroom. Now where did THAT come from?

"Feel like talking about it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. I was momentarily distracted by the color playing on his hair. It was a strange shade of reddish-brown, and under the bright light of the kitchen, it looked like there were another dozen of undertones to his hair. I felt a sudden urge to touch him, to see if his hair was as silky smooth as it seemed to be.

"Not really," I replied and looked down, watching my fingers playing with one of the fringes of my dress.

"Ok," he said.

I looked up at him again, unable to resist the desire to see his face again.

"How about we talk about something else, then?" he suggested.

I was mesmerized by the movement of his lips. They were uneven in thickness; the bottom lip was a bit fuller. They were also a bit moist, as if he just licked them with his tongue. His jaw was square and a bit angled. He was shaved clean, and when I took a deep breath, I swear I could smell his after-shave.

Slowly, his lips came closer to me. I looked up to see that his eyes were a darker shade of green. He was leaning towards me, very slowly, giving me every chance I wanted to stop him. I didn't dare to move. His lips were barely an inch away from mine when he paused altogether and looked me in the eyes. He was asking for permission.

I closed the distance between us, and my eyes flattered shut. His lips felt divine; both soft and firm at the same time. I tasted alcohol and something salty on his lips, but as he parted them and I tasted his breath, I forgot everything else. There was something very captivating about his taste. More intoxicating than alcohol, sweeter than the richest chocolate, his taste was all male.

I lost myself. I didn't know where I was anymore. I didn't remember what time of day it was. I only knew that I was being kissed for the very first time in my life, and it was better than anything I had ever imagined it to be.

He pulled me into his embrace, and I felt warm. His arms were strong, but tender around my body. His fingers lacing into my hair, pulling me closer, deeper into the kiss.

"You taste so good." His voice was husky.

My answer was in the form of a moan as he sucked on my bottom lip. I couldn't think about anything other than this man; his body pressed into mine, his chest and shoulders wide, his mouth glued to my lips. I drowned, and I didn't want to come up.

My fingers curled on his back, digging my fingernails into his muscles. He didn't seem to mind. His lips left mine, and he made a trail of kisses on my jaw line and over to my neck.

"Oh my god, that feels so good," I whispered when he nibbled on my earlobe, sending jolts of pleasure straight into the core of my body.

"I'm glad you like it, baby," he murmured, nibbling down my neck, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Now how about this…" he sucked on a piece of skin, just where my neck met my shoulder, and I felt my knees buckle.

I wrapped my hands around his neck, trying to keep myself from falling.

"I think you liked that as well," he teased, smiling at me.

I blushed, feeling the heat spreading over my cheeks and onto my shoulders.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

I watched his as his eyes followed the blush from my face to my shoulders and down to the chest. The dress I was wearing was strapless, sitting very low on my body, revealing so much more of my cleavage than I was used to.

He lowered his head to my chest, kissing the skin just above the dress. My head rolled back. The sensations were so strong. I didn't know myself anymore. Where was the shy Bella, the twenty one year old virgin who never had a boyfriend? I didn't know and didn't care.

His hand cupped my breast above the fabric of the dress. It was warm and strong. When he began massaging the soft flesh, I could no longer hold the moans from escaping my lips.

"We better find some place more private," he whispered, lifting his head and looking me in the eyes.

I nodded. Unable to form words. I would lose myself in this man tonight. I would not let myself think about the past. For one night in my life, I will let myself drown my feelings and not think about anything else.

I never remembered how we made our way from the kitchen to his bedroom. Only fragmented images of walking through massive amounts of people, while being kissed thoroughly, remained in my mind. My next memory was of being put on a bed and feeling the weight of his body pressing down on me.

He lifted my leg and wrapped it around his hips, positioning his body closer to mine. I could feel his hardness through the layers of clothes we were both still wearing, and my body pressed upwards on its own accorded. The friction felt better than anything we did until then, so I did it again.

"Baby, you're killing me," he mumbled in a groan, his mouth sucking on that spot on my neck that made my knees buckle earlier.

"I need you." I almost growled.

"I'm here, baby." He smiled against my skin.

My eyes locked with his. I didn't know how fire could be green, but it was there in his eyes. Burning. His hands roamed my back in search of the zipper of my dress, and I lifted my back to help him open it.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmured, almost to himself, "so responsive…" he trailed off.

I felt myself blush once again as he pulled the dress down from me. I wore only a pair of barely-there, lace boy-shorts. They were the same hot pink color as the dress, and for the first time, I was glad Alice had insisted on buying matching lingerie with the dress.

His hands cupped my breasts, the long fingers of his hands massaging and tugging on the sensitive flesh. It was a thousand times better than feeling his hands through the barrier of fabric, and now I wanted more of his skin to be exposed. I needed to feel more of his skin. I tugged on his shirt and he pulled it off in seconds. I think I gasped when I watched his chiseled chest revealed to me for the first time.

"You're beautiful," I whispered, only half-aware that the words left my mouth.

He was unbelievable, his body toned and lean, but most of all, he was warm. The cold existence that had been my share for the past three years was gone when he held me close.

He chuckled at my words, his lips once again wearing that crooked smile that sent my heartbeat into frenzy. "I think that should be my line."

I pulled his head back to my chest where he was before, demanding his touch on my body, unable to speak the words out loud. It seemed like he understood because he complied and wrapped his mouth around one of my nipples, making me scream in pleasure. My body was moving mindlessly, seeking more friction. I think I even left scratches on his back as I tried to get him closer to me.

My high-heeled shoes were lost somewhere on the floor, so with my bare feet I tried to push his jeans away from his body.

"You need to open the belt first." He smiled with a nipple between his lips. The sight was so erotic that I could do nothing more than whimper and press myself upwards in a silent request.

He stood up and I moaned in protest at the loss of contact. I watched, enchanted, as he took off his shoes, socks, and jeans. The small black briefs he was wearing were stretched over his erection. I sat up, unable to stay away anymore, and splayed my hands over his stomach, my fingertips brushing against the waistband of his underwear. I pushed my fingers under the fabric, slowly pushing it down his legs. I never took my eyes off of his face, watching his lips slightly part as he panted, his eyes following my hands' movements. He stepped out of the fabric as soon as it was around his ankles, but he made no move to push me back on the bed, instead he placed one hand under my chin, his thumb resting on my bottom lip.

He didn't speak, only looked into my eyes, his thumb gently tracing my lips.

Finally, I broke contact with his eyes to look at his body. The light hair that trailed down his chest ended in a very large erection. He's so big, I thought, slightly nervous. My hands were still on his thighs, and I brought them up, curious if he was just as soft there as he was everywhere else.

"Oh my god, that feels so good," he whispered through clench teeth.

He threw his head back when my fingers closed around his manhood and moaned. He was surprisingly firm in my hand, even if much softer than the rest of his body. I caressed him, moving my fingers up to the tip, spreading the wetness there over the rest of him. His hips bucked, and the head of his hardness touched my cheek.

"Can I…?" I blushed feverishly, unable to complete the question.

"God…" He moaned.

I took that as a 'yes' and touched him with my tongue. He tasted differently there, slightly salty. I still held him in my hand when I opened my mouth and took the tip between my lips.

"So wet… and warm…" he mumbled, his hand moved to the back of my head.

He didn't push me, just rested his hand in my hair. I felt encouraged and tried to lower my head a bit, taking more of him. I didn't get far, just a little more than half of his length fit in my mouth. I experimented with several different angles, trying to see which one was more comfortable for me, which one I could take more of him. I no longer cared that there was a man attached at the other end, I was too engrossed with the taste and texture. So I was surprised when after a few moments he pulled away from me. I watched him with fear in my eyes. Did I do something wrong?

"No, just the opposite, you're doing something very right."

Apparently, I said that out loud.

"Your mouth feels so good around me." He gently pushed me on my back, lowering himself on his knees between my legs. "I don't want this to end so soon," he whispered, his hands tugging the boy-shorts down my thighs. "I want to taste you before I cum."

I leaned on my elbows and watched him taking the last piece of clothing off, much like he watched me earlier.

"And I want to be inside you when I do that." He smirked and my breath hitched.

"So soft…" he whispered. His were hands placed on my inner thighs, spreading me wider for him. I felt a wave of shyness and tried to stop him when he whispered, "No, don't hide yourself. You are absolutely beautiful. Every part of your body."

There was such intensity in his eyes that I forgot to be embarrassed by the fact that I was completely naked with an Adonis of a man between my legs.

I nodded for him to continue.

His fingers touched the folds of my core, followed by his tongue, and I heard a loud guttural growl that I didn't even know I could make. His tongue was much rougher in texture than his fingertips. The combination of the two — his tongue on the bundle of nerves at the top of my sex and his fingertips teasing the entrance — drove me crazy. I felt as if my entire body concentrated around his tongue and fingers. There was something building deep inside me, something that was getting stronger by the second. I was panting, and my elbows no longer strong enough to hold me up right.

"You're so tight," he whispered as he pushed one finger inside me and I moaned.

It took only two thrusts of his finger, and I was gone. I think I may have shouted as the waves of pleasure hit me, but I wasn't coherent enough to know for certain. I dug my fingers in the sheets beneath me while my back arched. I saw a rainbow of color explode around me before I landed back on the bed, barely able to breathe.

He gave a soft kiss over my sex before trailing a path of soft kisses upwards, through my breasts and to my lips. I didn't hesitate to open my lips under him mouth. His taste was mixed with mine. It was incredibly erotic to sense that. He pulled me further into the bed without breaking the kiss, and I felt him positioning his manhood between my legs, rubbing it on me to coat it with my moisture. I held on to his back very tightly when I felt him begin to penetrate me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that there will be pain, but all I could feel was being full for the first time in my life.

He slid deeper inside very slowly as if he knew that that was what I needed.

"That feels so good," I whimpered.

"You feel so good," he answered with a growl.

I felt him pause when he came to my barrier. I saw the question in his eyes as he looked down at me, but looked away from his gaze. I leaned my head on his shoulder and pushed my hips up, pleading him with my body. There was a sharp pain when he completed the union, and I hissed and sunk my teeth into my bottom lip.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, staying absolutely still. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. I wasn't sorry at all. The pain had already faded, and I needed him again. The now-familiar sensation of pleasure building inside me was back. I made very small movements with my hips, trapped under his weigh there wasn't much more I could do, but he understood. He pulled away and thrust back in. The friction was much like the one when his finger was inside me, only ten folds more powerful. I clung to him, wrapping my legs around his waist as he moved faster.

I kissed his shoulder and his neck as he moved us. "It feels so good," I whimpered. "You're so deep inside me."

"I love being inside you," he answered. "I love knowing that I am the first to give you such pleasure."

"Yes…"

I arched my back as the pleasure took over once again. Wave after wave of pure delight. I felt him stiffen and heard his guttural growl, and seconds later felt him pulse inside me, in his own release.

I must have fallen asleep — that or fainted — because when I opened my eyes again I was under the covers, lying on my side with my face pressed in his chest, his hand caressing me from shoulder to thigh. My leg was hitched over his waist, so he was able to cup my buttocks.

I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, and I felt content and warm.

I never want to move.

"You don't have to."

I looked up to him. I guess I spoke my thoughts aloud yet again.

"Good," I murmured with what I was sure to be a lazy smile, a mirror of the one he had of his face.

We didn't speak for a while, just looking at each other. I was memorizing his face, every feature of it — from the straight line of his nose, to the curve of his brows over the green of his eyes. I had a feeling he was doing the same.

Thank you, was the last coherent thought I had before falling asleep. It was the first night in December that I didn't have nightmares.

~.~.~

I woke up early the next day, feeling oddly refreshed even though I couldn't have gotten more than four hours of sleep. I didn't dare taking a shower for fear that he might wake up. I got dressed as quickly as I could, brushing my fingers through the mess of my hair. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was horrified. I looked ravished. My cheeks were scarlet red, my eyes wide with shock, my hair looked like a haystack, and I had a purple mark on my neck.

I touched it with shaking fingers. It didn't hurt, not now and not when he gave it to me. It was in the middle of the night. I was only half-awake when I felt his mouth on my neck and his body filling mine. I thought it was a pleasant dream, but the hickey suggested otherwise.

It was very early and still dark outside. I descended the stairs to the first floor where I could still see the aftermath of the party. There wasn't a single person left, and I thanked God for that. I made my way to the entrance closet and took my coat and purse. Only when I was out of the door I put on my heels.

I took out my cell phone. There were five missed calls — all from Alice's cell phone — and three messages.

Bella, it's Alice, where did you go? Call me.

Bella, Alice is looking all over for you. You ok? Rose.

Bella, I'm staying at Jasper's. Call me as soon as you get the message. I'm worried sick about you! Alice.

I sighed. It wasn't fair to leave them hanging dry. I looked at the time. Five thirty four. Too early to call, but I could send them a text.

I called a cab. It was freezing outside and I wasn't wearing much under my coat, no matter how warm it was. While I waited for it, I sent both girls a test message.

Dozed off, sorry. Took a cab home. Bella.

The apartment was empty as expected. I took off the dress and hung it in my closet before going for a long shower. I felt sore in places I've never been sore before. It was only to be expected. But as I washed myself, more and more memories floated back. The touch of his hands, the taste of the skin behind his ear, the sounds he made when he was thrusting inside me… There was one thing I couldn't remember though. I searched my mind, going through the events of last night over and over again before the realization hit me.

I never asked his name.

A/N: This is a little something I wrote during the weekend. I needed some good old fashioned fluff and it didn't fit the place I am with "When The Twilight Never Comes".

A link to a picture of Bella's dress in this chapter can be found on my profile page.

Thank you for reading,

Alley Cat.