A/U: I have another account on this site, with much more conservative stuff. But let's be honest. Sometimes we all need something to get off to. This will be the account run by the secret, sexual side of me. Some of it may be incredibly dirty. This first chapter isn't. But the next one? H. O. T. Enjoy!
Chapter 1
It was not how she thought it would be. The flashing lights, the music pounding her sternum against her skin, the sequin-sheathed sluts swinging their hips back and forth. This was not how she thought her 17th birthday would be.
The plan had, from the time she had inconveniently walked in on her parents thumping their bodies against their headboard, that she would not have sex until she was at least 17. Of course, being 9, 17 had felt like a very long time away. An eternity, really.
And then there was Alice, her best friend, who made her pinky promise that she wouldn't be old and shriveled and sensible when it came to love or sex. That was freshman year, and it seemed like she had all the time in the world, so she promised no later than 17.
No later or earlier than 17. It should have been easy. Bella Swan was a pretty girl, not that it would have mattered to the boys who frequented the halls of Forks High School. She had tits and an ass, that was enough for them. Unknown to all but the most observant of teenagers in her town, Bella also had a brain, one that had read Shakespeare and Bronte had high ideas about love. Unknown to everyone but her closest friends, Bella also had a heart. And unknown to all but Bella herself, that heart had always belonged to her best friend's older brother, Edward Cullen. He was five years older than them, a beautiful face with something deeper behind it, for all he tried to hide it.
He had graduated from Julliard for piano performance, but, for some reason, ended up as Forks's music teacher. He had gone from being the boy-man with the mussed bronze hair, shirtless and stumbling to the Cullens' refrigerator late at night for a swig of milk, straight from the carton, to being the untouchable, unreachable man in button-ups and ties, with mussed hair, long fingers, piercing green eyes, and no time for cute little Bella, the girl he had always seen as another sister.
It should have been easy to lose her virginity in a moment of awkward self-awareness, a sloppy kiss, fumbling fingers and a few jerking thrusts. Wham, bam, thank you lab-partner-who-hopefully-won't-remember-this-in-the-morning. But Bella had always had high expectations. Edward-level expectations.
So while Alice had planned out her 17th, over-eager to share stories of sexual exploits with her quiet, if not shy, best friend, Bella had sighed and wondered how binding freshman promises were. Alice had made her wear her sultriest dress – a midnight blue, with a bustier top accentuating her breasts and small waist, a flared skirt stopping several inches above her knees, and her back exposed to the humid, charged atmosphere of the nightclub in Seattle they had driven to. Bella's hair hung in rippling waves, which swung and danced against the bare skin of her back. She would have been much more aroused, she thought, if she had been certain she wanted this, tonight.
Alice and her devoted boyfriend Jasper had disappeared, probably to fuck. The club was dark and writhing with the pounding bass. People on the floor were dancing so closely, Bella could not be sure if they were actually having sex. Daring, she thought, if a bit unsanitary.
Just then, a man pushed her hair over one of her shoulders and leaned against her, his mouth brushing her earlobe so she could feel the words as much as she could hear them.
"That dress should be illegal."
Her spine stiffened and she spun towards him.
"Edward? I mean, Mr. Cullen." She stammered. It was him. Dressed in a snug white t-shirt, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, he looked like James Dean. His chiseled jaw, which she, incidentally, had spent half of her life fantasizing about kissing, dropped.
"Bella? What the fuck are you doing here? Is Alice here? You girls better not be drinking."
Bella's stomach soared and dropped in waves. He wanted her, he was embarrassed, he thought of her as a little sister, he was disgusted with her. Suddenly, she found herself close to tears, which, unbeknownst to her, only served to make her dark eyes flash brighter from the midst of smoky makeup. "What if I was, Edward? It's none of your concern." She hadn't been drinking, actually. But she decided rapidly that it was time to start. She turned on the high heels of the velvet booties she was wearing, and swung her hips as she strutted to the bar and ordered a shot of Patron.
Edward was still for a moment, his eyes panicked and stunned. A man around his age, tall and overly-muscular sauntered up to Bella, and offered to pay for her drink. Bella glanced over at Edward, then leaned in to him, looking up through her eyelashes. Edward saw red. He crossed the room to the bar in a few long-legged strides and stepped between them, facing the simpering sensuality that was a flirtatious Bella Swan.
"I got it," he tossed over his shoulder, sliding the bartender a twenty without looking away from her.
She downed it, wincing in a way that should not have been sexual, but was. "You know, Mr. Cullen," she said conversationally, "you're making it rather difficult to lose my virginity."
"You don't want that one, Bella."
"How would you have any idea what I want, Mr. Cullen?"
"Don't call me that."
"Fine." Her eyes flashed with anger, "Then how would you have any idea what I want, Edward?"
"Because," his eyes flashed back, danger and more than a hint of lust as he growled, "There's no way that guy is not taking steroids. You'd probably need a microscope to find his dick."
"And I suppose you have elephantitis of the nuts?"
He pinned her against the bar. Her breath was coming quickly, in sharp, soft pants. His was too. She could feel the puffs of air against her ear as he whispered, "You're dangerous, Miss Swan. Don't start anything you can't finish."
She whimpered, but, hearing a chuckle rumble low in his chest at her response, she composed herself and stood on her tiptoes, her breasts pushing against his chest, nipples puckered enough that he could feel them, to whisper back in his ear, "I believe it's your responsibility to make sure I finish, Edward. But I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult, even for you, with how wet I am." As she spoke, she intertwined their fingers together and dragged them over her inner thigh, up to her soaked panties. Edward's broad shoulders separated them from the crowd, but the public nature of the intimacy was enough to make her bite her lip to prevent herself from moaning aloud.
His voice sounded strained, "How much have you had to drink?"
"Just the one shot," she answered.
"Are you sure?"
She rolled her eyes, "Yes."
He unceremoniously pulled her out of the club and through the parking lot. His Aston Martin, a graduation gift from loaded parents, was in the very back corner of the lot. He let go of her hand and began hunting through his pockets for the keys, when he caught her shivering out of the corner of his eye.
"Cold?"
"No."
"Nervous?"
"No."
"Then why are you shivering?"
Her eyes flashed again, expressive as ever. "Do you know what it costs me to not touch you? Do you have any idea what it's been like?"
He answered simply. "Yes."
Then, he pressed her between hi s body and the car and kissed her voraciously, so deeply and desperately that she could not imagine he felt nothing for her. And deep within her stomach, Bella Swan felt the tiniest spark of hope that Edward Cullen could be hers.
