A/N This is the one shot I wrote for Breath-Of-Twilight's Christmas countdown to 2012, and it's probably far too late for it to be relevant to anyone, but I wanted to put it up on here anyway in case anyone that didn't read it wanted to!
Anyhoo, hope you like it and hope all your New Year's are going as well as mine is...Nah, Just kidding, I'm in the middle of exams. Kill me.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, I just like to make Stephenie Meyer's character's raunchier. To each our own, right?
I've Got a Feeling, This Year's for Me and You
"Ho, ho h...holy hell."
"Well, hello there." Naked guy stands with his bottle green eyes wide and his candy apple red lips slack. My reflex shock instantly morphs into a smirk.
"...This is awkward." He shuffles from bare foot to foot.
"You thought chief Swan lived alone?" he gives a static nod, "which is even weirder if you think about it."
"He's a handsome guy?" He says, like he's trying to banter his way out of embarrassment. He runs his fingers through his hair with a quiet, hysterical chuckle.
"Jingle my bells?" I approvingly eye his skin tight, crimson briefs; the words emblazed across the impressively stretched material. He doesn't waste any time in shielding himself with his hands. I'm kind of disappointed by this.
When I'd slumped down the stairs, this is the last thing I'd expected to see on the other side of the door. In fact, today had been a complete downer, and so this little surprise seemed like the universe was trying to make it up to me.
Christmas in Dublin was always ridiculously entertaining; the lights, the music, the Guinness. I'd always loved it; just the excitement in the air made me giddy. So, when my Ma had told me I had to come to Forks to live with my dad, I went mental. Literally.
I tore down her tree, pelted her decorations with her freshly made mince pies, shredded her new 'Santa's baby' dress – which, quite frankly, was both embarrassing and disturbing – then took a cricket bat to her holiday china dishes and set the door wreath on fire.
And suddenly I'm 'unstable'.
I was on a plane the next morning, and in the 'loser cruiser' back to Fork's not long after that.
On the flight, I thought about what I would miss the most; it wasn't my friends, it sure as hell wasn't my mother - it wasn't even my legality to drink.
What I would miss the most was the celebration, everyone going wild all together. Sloshed drinks staining my pretty dress, dancing sweat matting my hair to my face, someone else's whisky-breath on my lips.
I knew for sure that this holiday would be spent downing the lonely bottle of vodka I'd hidden under my mattress, counting down the days until the lack of merriment had surpassed, longing for home, and probably being dragged to church with the Chief.
He has to 'keep up appearances' apparently; which is why it took more than a few weeks of persuading - on Renee's part, of course - to fly me out to this boring hellhole and let me die in a sea of grey air and lacklustre trees.
Fan-fecking-tastic.
So, I'd opened the door with more gusto than required - feeling taking my stress out on inanimate objects was the only way to make me feel better - revealing the broad-shouldered boy with luminescent, alabaster skin, muscled arms and flat abs presenting himself on the frosty doorstep. His long, toned legs were vulnerable to the chill of the winter night; and I'm sure the tiny, scarlet short-shorts he was wearing were doing nothing to keep him warm.
"I thought you carollers were supposed to sing," I quip, unable to keep the smile from my voice. He looks up with wide eyes; his ridiculous, inky eyelashes almost touching his dark eyebrows.
"You want me to sing?" His huge shoulders are tensed, as if he's ready to just run away.
"Cool it, Naked Guy, I was kidding." He relaxes. I may be concentrating a little too hard on him, but as far as I can tell, he's shaking like a leaf. "I'd invite you in," I say, "but the chief has this thing about unclothed boys in the house. Call him old fashioned." He smiles a little now; his cheeks tainted a cute pink.
"That's understandable."
"So, as much as I'd like to stand here and check you out some more, you should probably go and put some clothes on." He tries to hide his smirk; when he looks up from underneath his lashes, I can't help but bite my lip.
"It's Edward, by the way."
"Hmm, I prefer Naked Guy." I wink and then go to shut the door.
"You don't have a name?" I hesitate, the door half closed between us.
"Sure."
"Okay, Nameless Girl, to make up for my embarrassment..." I have to literally force my eyes not to slide down his bare chest, "if you're not busy, there's this party tomorrow night." I'm having trouble keeping my tongue inside my mouth.
"Christmas eve?" My brain has stopped properly functioning.
"It's in this place called The Twilight Bar – they don't ID, and some seniors are going down there at around 7:30."
"So, it's going to be like a high school party?" I grimace, not liking the sound of that. Boring.
"Why, do you have some college rager to intend instead?"
"Sarcasm will get you everywhere." I smile, but go to shut the door again.
"Will you come?" I bite the inside of my cheek, liking the way his red lips form the word 'Come'.
"I'll go if you wear that hat." He flushes red before yanking the Santa Clause hat off of his head, revealing a shock of dark, thick, wicked red hair.
"How about you keep it and give it back to me tomorrow?" He holds it out to me with a cocky grin. I can't stop my hand from reaching out to pluck it out of his long fingers.
"You seem awfully confident that I'll show up."
"Few can resist my charm."
"Even in those pants?" He blushes again. "I'll see you around, Naked Guy."
"You'd better." I snort and move to slam the door shut one last time. "It was a dare!" He calls quickly after me, an afterthought. I laugh fully now.
"That's what they all say." And the door shuts between us.
For some reason my mood is lifted, and I can't help but smile as I make to walk back up the stairs.
"Who was that?" Charlie Swan calls from the living room; I can see his huge socked feet resting on the table, the TV flashing with a sport I couldn't care less about.
"Some gorgeous gobshite wanker in nuthin' bit his drawers," I drawl, leaning against the banister.
"You used to be such a lovely girl." I find it particularly hilarious that he dated an Irish woman, knocked her up, and lived with her for three years and yet he can barely understand a word of the accent.
"Those were the days," I retort and swing around and back up to my room.
It's only once I'm fully tucked into bed at 10:30pm that I realise how shit this existence truly is. I should be out, for fucks sake - or at least just getting in.
I drag my laptop up from the floor, half hanging off of my bed; the good things about this house are that my bedroom is on the opposite side to Charlie's, I have my own bathroom, there's a huge oak tree directly out of the window, and I have a double bed all to myself. The downsides are too many to mention.
I type 'The Twilight bar, Forks' into Google, and I instantly receive a number, a marked map and an address. I take note; I'm pretty sure it's just outside town – weird place for a pub - but if Hot Naked Guy is going to be there, then I guess I'll have a good time. Plus, creepy bars in the middle of nowhere seem to have some attractive quality to them.
And yes, he has graduated to Hot Naked Guy.
I lie back in my bed, suddenly finding it all too big and empty.
His face flits through my head; big green eyes, his huge shoulders, those lips; but what truly did it for me the most was his arms, just the right amount of muscle, toned and hard; three words – Mother may I?
And suddenly my face is flushed. I slide my hand down my shorts – my God, I'm wet just thinking about him.
Well, the only time that I've seen him is basically nude, so I guess that is reasonable. I'm suddenly wondering how I could actually form sentences without drooling all over the place, because the picture of him in my head is making me seriously hot.
I start rubbing between my legs, not able to get his coy glance from underneath his lashes out of my mind. My legs start to quiver as I slide my fingers across my wet folds, unable to think about anything but him.
His awkwardness made him seem all the more sexy. How is that even possible?
I imagine his tongue where my fingers rub in small concentric circles; he licks his way up between my thighs, his dark red lips whispering against my hip bones. My body shudders.
I stick one finger inside me, and then add another; behind my closed eyes his long, strong fingers stroke in and out, making me jerk and spasm - the tight knot forming deep in the pit of my stomach gradually getting warmer and more intense.
Suddenly I'm shaking and arching; my skin is on fire and my heart beat wracks through my whole body, pounding like a drum.
I lay flat against my pillows; my face warm and tingling, my body weak and heavy. My chest rises and falls with my quick breaths.
I know now exactly what I'll be doing on Christmas Eve this year.
Hot Naked Guy.
...
I push open the swing double doors with the toe of my heeled ankle boots. I'm met at first by a gloomy, smoke filled entrance, with a flickering dull yellow ceiling lamp and a beautiful display of a woman's bare arse being groped as she's pressed up against the wall by a guy a couple of inches shorter than her. Classy bird.
I saunter past, suddenly slightly worried about my safety; Which, in turn, just pisses me off, because I pride myself on being brave and trying new things.
Which was why, as soon as Charlie had slammed the door shut - signalling his departure to mass or whatever the fuck he was doing - I shuffled into my sexiest skinny jeans and a low cut cherry red tank top, then I placed the nice smelling hat over my messy curly hair. Granted a skirt would have been better for easy access; but for one, it's Baltic outside, and also my legs look super long in these dark, acid wash, second skin trousers.
I finished the look with a deep magenta lip colour and a little smoky eye. My cropped leather jacket matched my boots, so I zipped it up and headed on out – but not before I sprayed a little sweet smelling perfume onto my skin.
Even if Hot Naked Guy wasn't here, I planned on having a good time.
Yet, if he didn't show, I would be majorly disappointed. Not that I'd admit it.
I decided to show up an hour and a half later than he'd told me; I didn't want to seem too eager, and hopefully I would rock up just as the party was getting in to full swing, completely bypassing the awkward, sober first part.
I was right; there is some serious dancing going on already. In fact, if I didn't know any better I'd assume this small, crowded pub - decked out with a stage and a central bar - was home to a huge orgy. Everyone seemed to be grinding, or rubbing some appendage not belonging to them. It's sort of exciting, to be honest.
I give the room no more than a quick scan, deciding if he is here, he could find me. I stroll over to the bar, straddle a stool and squeeze my elbows in past a gyrating couple.
"Want to get me a pint, lad?" I call out to the tall boy with his back to me, his hand in a cloth deep inside a glass.
He turns and at first I'm quite shocked; he's pretty beautiful too. Sea blue eyes, an impish grin and beachy blonde hair. His collar is pulled up, but he kind of looks chill enough to pull it off.
"Ah, an Irish brunette in a Santa hat...I guess I owe Alice twenty dollars."
"Huh?"
"Never mind, Darlin'; Guinness coming right up." I give him a tight smile, but I'm suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable. He gives me my pint with a wink before mysteriously disappearing around the corner, leaving the bar empty. Nobody else seems to notice though; everyone's too focused on dancing.
I find myself people watching; it's quite amusing. I must admit, I had expected an almost empty pub, with maybe a heated game of pool in the corner or something. I most certainly did not expect a full blown party.
My eyes are drawn to the tall couple closest to me; not because they're both extremely beautiful – though that may also be a factor – but because they are so deep inside one another's eyes while they dance, I feel like I'm sharing a private moment.
He has his huge hand wrapped in her shiny, blonde hair, and her hands are tight around his neck. The two of them look like Greek Gods; not to mention the way they're dancing together, hot and heavy - leaving little of their sexual attraction to the imagination.
"Hi." I jump about a mile. I swing in my chair and my eyes instantly link with the mischievous green ones right in front of me.
"Oh, hey, I almost didn't recognise you with your clothes on." He groans. Someone snorting attracts my attention, and we both look over at the guy, back behind the bar. He shifts his eyes between us, before smirking and then strutting off, whistling to himself.
"That's Jasper - He's the mastermind behind inebriated truth or dare."
"He's certainly creative," I mumble, not really knowing what I'm saying, because Hot Naked Guy is wearing a forest green shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes sparkle magnificently, and his hair looks even thicker and redder than I remember.
"You showed up."
"I certainly did, captain observant." I raise my eyebrow. "My other plans fell through, so..."
"Ah," he says, "You never did tell me your name."
"Didn't I?" I say, feigning ignorance, with a nonchalant chug of my drink. He pouts, but then points to my head.
"You suit the hat."
"Why thank you. Some weird naked guy showed up at my door last night and told me I had to wear it."
"Are you sure he was naked? I don't think he would be naked."
"He might as well have been. See, he was wearing these tiny red briefs, and even in the freezing cold it was pretty obvious that he had a huge-"
"Hey, you want a refill?" I smile at Jasper.
"That'd be great," I say as sweetly as I can muster, before I look back at Hot Naked Guy, noticing he's collapsed against the work top, and his eyes are fixed on my mouth.
"Uh," he clears his throat, "what were you saying?"
"Hmm, I don't remember. I wonder if there's something that could spark my memory."
"Well let me think," he says, but then the music changes and his faces morphs from flirty to cutely excited. "Do you want to dance?" he asks, holding out his hand. I splutter, unsure of how the topic has changed.
But then the song sinks in, and I can't help but close my eyes and laugh.
"That's weird," I say and beam up at him as he pulls me up from my seat. I don't fail to notice his fingers lacing through mine, and I can't help but smile.
"I asked them to play it," He says as he pulls me suddenly against his chest, his bottle green eyes right there. I lose my breath for a second.
"-I turned my face away,
And dreamed about you-"
He slides his hand down my back and toys with the edge of my shirt, his finger grazing the sliver of skin at the base of my back. I drag my hand up his arm to settle on his shoulder.
"-I've got a feeling,
This year's for me and you-"
I smile into his neck as we rock back and forward, his fingers still toying with my shirt.
Then the mood changes as the song picks up to my favourite part and the energy in the room suddenly doubles; but I'm hardly paying attention. He grabs my hand and spins me round and around.
My laughter takes me by surprise, and suddenly I'm laughing so hard I can hardly breathe.
I'm surprised; he's actually a really good dancer.
"-They've got cars big as bars,
They've got rivers of gold,
But the wind goes right through you,
It's no place for the old.-"
He spins me again, and then pulls me up against him. Both of us are shaking with laughter so we can hardly move fluidly anymore. He grabs my one hand in his, his other goes back under the bottom of my shirt, resting on my back.
"You were handsome."
"You were pretty, queen of New York City," he sings back, and my cheeks start to hurt. He spins me again, and I'm so light, carefree and a little tipsy that I forget everything else in the world, all but his hands on me, lighting a trail of fire across my skin, and his hot lips against my ear.
"-Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing,
We kissed on a corner,
Then danced through the night-"
He dips me down, and after a butterfly kiss to my throat he drags me back up slowly, one hand deep in my hair.
"-And the bells were ringing out,
For Christmas day-"
His lips are suddenly very close, his chest tight against mine and we're both breathing so very hard.
"What's your name?"
"-You took my dreams from me,
When I first found you-"
"Do you think you've earned it yet?" I whisper back with a smirk, my lips ghosting his.
"-I kept them with me babe,
I put them with my own-"
"I don't know, have I?" He pulls me tighter against him and I'm not smirking anymore, because his eyes are on fire, and his touch is leaving me light headed.
"-Can't make it all alone,"
"It's Bella."
"I've built my dreams around you," He half whispers along with The Pogues, and then he pushes his lips against mine.
I've been kissed before – many a times, in fact. But the alcohol in my brain, the spark of his touch, and the heat emanating from his firm, broad chest make my eyes roll into the back of my head.
...
I don't know how we managed it, but somehow we're in a dark empty room. I remember clambering over the bar and through a door, going up some stairs, and the sound of keys jangling, but at the time Hot Naked Guy's lips were moving against mine, so it was very hard to concentrate on anything else.
As soon as the door shuts behind us I'm pressed up against it. I whimper as he kisses beneath my ear and down my neck.
I lift up my legs and wrap them around his waist, making him groan against me. I pull his mouth to mine and my mind goes blank again. He pulls my bottom lip and sucks with both of his, and I draw my hands across his shoulders and scratch down his back. He shivers against me.
"Bell," he whispers, and my name sounds so amazing coming from his mouth.
I put my feet back on the ground and then push him back, he stumbles a little, looking kind of confused. I start to unbutton his shirt, kissing the hard skin as I reveal it. He's every bit as magnificent as I remember.
"I hope you're wearing your Christmas undies," I say kneeling in front of him as I unbuckle his belt.
"Well, I didn't want to wear them out," he retorts, but his voice is restrained.
"So, you don't want me to jingle your bells?" I pull down his jeans and then kiss his hard dick through his boxer shorts. "That's a shame."
"Holy fuck." I pull him out of his shorts; my eyes really didn't deceive me last night, he really is impressively big. I'm kind of worried about fitting him all in my mouth.
I swirl my tongue around the tip, and he mumbles something I can't quite make out. Then I take him into my mouth and he gasps, pushing a hand into my hair. I suck and use my fist to pump at the base where I can't reach; he feels like smooth, cool marble, and tastes hot and salty. He swears again, pushing his hips to meet my rhythm.
Then he hauls me up with his huge arms, and I release him from my mouth with an audible pop.
He kisses me hard as he kicks his jeans off from around his ankles. Then he pulls at my shirt, and without breaking his lips from mine, rips it from my body.
"Hey!" I yelp, but then he's sucking my nipple through the navy blue lace of my bra, and all thoughts of my clothing are gone.
He pushes me to walk backwards, kissing his way back up to my neck. Suddenly we're both falling onto a soft mattress. One of my legs is between his; he unbuttons my jeans and slowly pulls them from my hips, but then he gets distracted and unhooks my bra.
"You're absolutely stunning," he says, and I squeak like a mouse when his hot, wet mouth comes into contact with my bare, sensitive skin.
I shuffle my jeans further down my legs, and he helps pull them the rest of the way down. I kick off my shoes, and they clatter on the hard wood floor, but neither of us notices that much.
He stares at me for a couple of seconds.
"What?" I mumble, starting to get a little self conscious. He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair around my ear, and then answers me with a kiss.
He rubs me through my underwear, and I pull his bottom lip lightly with my teeth. He holds himself up on his forearms and looks into my eyes.
"Stop doing that."
"I can't help it," he whispers back, but then he snaps out of it and starts to kiss down my chest, swirling his tongue around my breast before continuing down to my hips. He hooks his finger around the material and drags it down, then kisses my hip bone. He looks up at me from under his lashes; I throw my head back onto the pillow and groan before he has even touched me.
"So wet," He says, in a husky voice, before kissing my mound and sucking hard.
"Fuck." I can't help but yelp as he twirls his tongue around, hitting the perfect spot. It's even hotter than I imagined, and I have to lace my fingers through his hair to make sure I'm actually still here.
He flicks my clit with his talented, hot tongue, and then slips a long finger inside of me. I moan as my hips rock up to meet his hand and his mouth. He slides another finger into me, and my legs start to shake.
"D-don't stop." I hear a voice beg, and then realise that it's actually me.
My whole body starts to heat up; I feel my cheeks flushing and the sensation deep in the pit of my stomach building. He sucks hard again making me go right over the edge; I spasm against his fingers and my back arches as the waves of pleasure roll over me.
"Oh, my God," I mumble into the dark, my chest heaving, my whole body tingling.
He pulls something out of a drawer at the side of the bed, and then lies down on top of me, his chest scorching mine.
"Where did you learn to do that?"
"I'm just naturally gifted," he says, before taking my mouth with his again. I hold his head to mine with my hands wrapped around the back of his neck.
He's settled between my legs, a moment later, my body is still reeling from his mouth. He rests the tip of his cock against my pussy, biting his lip as he holds himself in place.
"You okay?" he asks, looking into my eyes again.
"Fuck me." I answer and he loses control, slamming hard into me. I moan and gasp as he slides into me, again and again, our hips crashing together with each strike. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god." For some reason I can't find any other words to say. My mind has turned to mush and my body has melted into his.
I push him back, rolling us over, him still inside me. I straddle his hips and he laces his hands through mine. I throw my head back as I ride him, up and down. He growls at the back of his throat before launching forwards and pulling my nipple into his mouth, and lets go of my hands, squeezing my other breast hard.
He reaches down then and rubs quickly against my clit and my back arches as a shockwave of pleasure rocks through my body. The way I jerk against him seems to have some kind of effect on our angle, because all of a sudden he's so much deeper inside me than before; and it feels so incredible.
"Say my name, Bella." He whispers against my chest; then his hand slides through my folds, and his hips thrust his cock deep inside me, and his lips suck my tits hard, and I come again, rippling against him, my body shaking out of control.
"Edward...Oh God, Edward."
...
I almost can't feel my body when I wake up, it's like everything is numb, and yet there's a huge smile on my face. The heavy weight on my bare stomach turns out to be Edward's head, his wild hair tickling my bare breasts.
His arms are tight around my waist, like he's subconsciously scared that I would leave before he woke up.
I shift my legs and he groans in response. When he looks up, his eyes are heavy and his lips are puffy.
"Merry Christmas," I say, as he clambers up and kisses me.
"I got exactly what I wanted," he says, his voice hoarse with sleep. I snort.
"That was cheesy."
"Yeah, but you loved it." He lies on his back, stretching his arms up. I duck under one and snuggle into his chest.
"So, I'm Bella Swan."
"Edward Cullen."
"It's a pleasure."
"Ah, the pleasures all mine." I'm laughing again. He turns us around so that we're lying facing each other, my neck rests on his arm, my knee pulled up onto his thigh.
He starts to say something else, but then some music starts playing.
"When a problem comes along, you must whip it.
Before the cream sits out too long, you must whip it.
When something's going wrong, you must whip it."
I cock my eyebrow at him; he looks at me sheepishly, a soft blush spreading across his pale cheeks.
"My brother thinks it's funny to change my ringtone," he explains, squeezing his eyes shut – I can't help but laugh, but I press my lips to his neck as an apology.
"Aren't you going to get that?"
He reaches over me, grabbing the phone and setting it on my stomach on loudspeaker.
"Now whip it! Into shape! It's not too late, to whip it good!" Except the music has cut off, but the happy male voice sings clearly. Edward groans again. "Man, I love that song! Hey bro, happy Christmas! Didn't get a chance to say goodbye last night, but Jazz filled me in - knew I shoulda bet with Alice! So, did you have a naughty, naughty Christmas? Was she rough? She looked like a firecracker! Did she-" Edward scrambles with the phone, before deciding to just throw it across the room. He looks at me, like I may have just been insulted.
I crack up. I'm laughing so hard that my whole body is shaking. He tackles me when he jumps back onto the bed. I see the Santa hat hanging haphazardly off to the side of the bed, so I pluck it up and place it on his head.
"Stop laughing at me, I have a dysfunctional family." He pouts, so I try to force my mouth into a straight line, but it's not working. "You have such a beautiful laugh." I roll my eyes, but he grins at me, so I smile back.
"So," I say in a low voice, "did you have a naughty Christmas?" He smirks.
"Well, technically, today is Christmas."
"Oh, well then, I guess we have a lot to do today, huh?"
"Well, I mean, we wouldn't want to disappoint anyone, would we?"
"I hate disappointing people." I squeal as he scoops me up.
"I really love Christmas."
So, Hope you liked it. Review and let me know what you think, hope it's not too out of season for you! So I should probably stop procrastinating my revision...wah.
Happy January.
Bet no one's said that to you.