Skin hot and wet.
Fingers scratching down, leaving fire in the wake.
Hands exploring, teeth grazing, trying to be closer. So much closer.
Moans filled the air – lips trying to subdue it but failing.
The air was sticky, the sounds of waves coming from the window.
I could feel him – on top of me, around me, inside of me.
I wanted more. So much more.
I wanted to stay like this forever – this one night to replay over and over again, never getting old, always staying new. Constant.
"Bella." His voice was hoarse – a mixture between a plead and a moan. I whimpered at it, my nails scraping along his back just before my palms flattened, pushing him closer, deeper, never leaving – staying complete.
"Bella!" He cried out, thrusting up and I yelped out with him, feeling every inch. I didn't want this night to end; I didn't want the sun to come up. His thrusts were harder, determined, his fingers digging into the sheets of the bed as he kissed my neck.
I was so close. So there. Just one more push and pull. Just one…
Beez. Beez. Beez. Beez.
Oh god, no. No. No. No.
Beez. Beez. Beez. Beez.
I woke up sweaty that morning, panting as my hand pressed flat against my stomach. This was the second time this week I had that dream. I hadn't had that dream for months, but for some reason – on this particular week, it had crept back up, stealing my peaceful slumber.
There was no point in lying in bed and trying to go back to sleep. There was no way I would be able to pick up on the dream where I left off. It wouldn't have started up again. It never did. It always ended just before those blissful seconds of multiple orgasms. But it never went passed that. Either my alarm went off, or I woke up myself. And even if I could go back and finish the dream. It was only a dream.
It happened once in reality. One time. And since then, my mind has never been able to let it go, though everything else apart of me has.
But like every time I woke up from that dream, I shrugged it off and started my day. Jumping from my bed, I walked to my bathroom, shedding off my damp clothes and setting them in the dirty hamper just as I turned the knobs of my shower, letting the water stream down. I took a quick cold shower, chilling my nerves and scrubbing my hair, feeling refreshed when I stepped out. With a towel wrapped around my body, I brushed my teeth and hair as I started to get ready for my day.
I sat down on my bed, checking my phone for messages.
A few emails, a handful of texts, and one missed call from my mother.
The emails were work related. The text messages were from Rosalie, my best friend of nearly fourteen years and my boyfriend, Garrett. And of course, there was one from my mother.
Bella, call me as soon as you get this. Need to talk. Mom.
"I'll get right on that." I said to myself as I rolled my eyes at the message.
Bitch I kno you have to be work in a few. TEXT ME BACK. – R
I laughed, shaking my head as I wrote out a reply.
Getting ready. I'll call you ASAP. – B
I scrolled down after I pressed send, hitting Garrett's name that flashed across my screen.
Good morning, beautiful. Would love to see you for breakfast. Meet at Starbucks?
I smiled, biting onto my lip.
Can't. Running late. Maybe lunch? I'll call you. xoxo – B
It took me exactly twenty minutes to get ready, heels slipping on with my purse on one arm and my coffee mug in the other. My cat, Clover, rubbed against my leg as she meowed pathetically as if trying to beg me to stay.
"I'll be back later, baby." I told her with a smile, reaching down and patting her head. I locked the doors behind me, took a deep breath and headed down my small porch to my car. It took about ten seconds until I started my car that Rosalie was calling.
"I told you I was going to call you," I told her with an exasperated sigh, holding the phone to my ear.
"When exactly were you going to tell me that I looked fat in that new blue blouse I bought?" She huffed and I immediately groaned, having too much to handle right now to deal with her petty problems.
"Because you don't look fat, Rose. You are just under a hundred and fifteen pounds. You don't look fat in anything." I told her honestly, turning a sharp corner as I almost missed my turn.
"Okay, then when were you going to tell me that all of my fucking employees suck ASS?," she screamed, "God, I swear, I hired people just to be nice. They have no idea what they are doing! They keep getting all of the orders wrong and make a huge mess for not only me, but my clients. I can't deal with it anymore! I'm gonna cut some bitches, I swear."
I couldn't help but burst out into a fit of laughter from that comment.
Rosalie grew up a town across from me. She didn't go to my school, but we went to the same ice skating rink when we were kids, and that's how we met. I accidently tripped her and she called me a meanie and I started to cry because I hated to be called names. Rosalie felt bad and gave me her bag of crushed oreos she had landed on when she fell, and that was the start of our friendship.
Her parents are multi-millionaires, and quite frankly, I have no idea what they do. The point is that they have money and Rosalie got everything she wanted, whenever she wanted. The good thing about Rose was that she had a good head on her shoulders. She never over-asked and she always kept things light. She didn't ask for a pony for her tenth birthday or a convertible for her sixteenth.
But just because she didn't ask, didn't mean she didn't get them.
She had simply told her parents "Whatever you get me, I'm sure I'll love it."
She was beautiful, outgoing, brave and strong – the qualities I seemed to lack in. But she was my best friend, and though I may have been a little envious – I never held it against her for being more privileged than I was. Rose owned her own wedding planning business, and it was flourishing. She was amazing at what she did – and Rosalie never seemed to fail at anything.
"Are you laughing at me Swan?," her voice cut in.
"No," I feigned a gasp. "Of course not."
"You're so full of shit. Where are you going? Come over here so I can kick your ass." I could actually hear her smirking – I knew her too well.
"Aw, damn. I'd love to but I have to go to work. Big presentation with some top name company." I said with a sly grin. "Maybe I can get a rain check for that ass kicking later, hmm?"
"Smart-ass," she huffed. "Are you nervous?"
"I'm trying not to think about it." I chewed on my lip, running my fingers through my hair. It's something I did when I was worried.
Today could possibly make or break my career.
I've been working for this for a year, trying to prove my boss that I can do this, that I have what it takes to get bumped up from her assistant to her partner. Victoria Hastings is well known in Seattle in the business world. Starting her career at just shy of eighteen years old, she created Hastings & Company. It was a wildly known advertisement agency, one I have been gunning for ever since we watched a documentary about it in High School.
I've always loved to draw, and design. Advertisement was exactly what I knew I wanted to go into when I was older. For the past year I have been working as Victoria's assistant. I never got my hands on anything or was able to pitch ideas, but I was there during meetings and groups to see what she liked and what she didn't like. The whole point of her business was to attract art work in an advertisement style to businesses so they would want us to create their logos. Thousands of well-known companies have invested in us and not once have we had an unhappy client.
That was until Victoria's partner, James, decided to steal one of Victoria's old ideas and pass it on to a new client, who wasn't very happy about his proposal.
So for the past month the spot of partner at Hastings & Company has been open and I have been busting my ass to prove to Victoria that I could do great things with this company. I showed her numerous of ideas from made up businesses, showing off my artwork and opening my talent to her. It was the only thing I was proud of.
And so far she has liked everything.
And when she gave me this presentation to try and sell the designs to Seattle's richest company, I nearly fainted. Why she trusted me to do this was completely beyond me, but she did, and if I fucked this up, there was no chance of getting that spot as partner.
So to say I was nervous was an understatement.
I was downright fucking scared for my life.
"You will do great, Bella. You've been gearing for this for weeks. I'm sure you'll kick major ass," she told me confidently. One thing was for certain, I could always count on Rosalie to make me feel a little bit better.
"Thanks Rose," I told her sincerely.
"Yeah, yeah. Cut the cute shit. Just make sure you call me right after the meeting, 'kay?," She asked just as my line beeped in.
"I will, I got someone on my other line. I'll call you later."
"M'kay, bye bitch," She said just before hanging up. I smirked and shook my head, switching to my other line.
"This is Bella."
"Baby… This is it… I can't take it anymore. It's the last straw." My mother cried over the receiver, forcing me to cringe as I pulled into the parking lot of the building. "It's just the same thing over and over again with him. It's repetitive. I can't do it anymore. I'm so sorry. I don't want to leave him, but I just can't do this anymore."
Why she is apologizing to me, I had no idea – but this was a norm with my mom. Her and my dad have been together for thirty-some years. I believe that they love each other – just maybe not as strongly as they used to. Not like they did before I came into the picture. I never truly blamed myself for their marriage going to shit, but it got the ball rolling after I was born. But somehow after I managed to show up, they kept it together for twenty-three years.
That doesn't stop my mom from threatening to leave him though. It happens about once a month – three times last December, something would always happen. Charlie would either do or say something to set her off. Quite frankly, I don't think he actually does anything, and that's the problem. That's why she's so fed up with it. My dad is Chief of Forks Police Department, and when he's not working, he's lying on the couch watching baseball.
My mother is a free spirit. She loves to be creative and go out on adventures. I guess that's where I get my artistic side from. Charlie used to be that way – but since his work has caught up with him, he's perfectly content sleeping away the day. My mother hates that he does that. She tells him everyday. But he doesn't listen – he just doesn't care. So my mom threatens him that she's going to leave him, stomps out, calls me, and when she comes back, Charlie has some extravagant gift waiting for her. It could be diamond earrings, or a trip to Hawaii. Either way it's always the same thing. This is how it goes every single time.
"Mom, I would love to talk…," I said, grabbing my bag and coffee as I attempted to get out of my car. "But I'm a little busy."
"Honey, I just wanted to let you know. I'm going to Sue's house right now for a glass of wine – but when I get back I'm packing my things. I just… I had to tell you. It's not right for you not to know," she sobbed.
"It's okay mom. I'll call you later, okay?," I said just before muttering a goodbye and hanging up. I couldn't deal with that right now. Not today. I'd call her tomorrow, but I'm sure by then my dad would have already gotten her a present and she would be happily content with their marriage once again. I have never met a couple so up and down like my parents. It was infuriating.
I ran across the parking garage, realizing time was running out. My phone was ringing and I'm sure it was Victoria, calling to yell at me as to why I wasn't here yet. I hiked down my skirt and hopped into the elevator, nervously watching the buttons count up to the tenth floor. Once it dinged, people swarmed in as I tried to move past them – keeping my coffee at one level so it wouldn't spill. I jumped out of the elevator and began down the hallway, passing people who gave me the wide-eyed 'you're so fucked' look.
Because it was true – I was so fucked.
I made it to my desk, setting my coffee mug down and shoving my bag underneath the chair, walking around it to grab my boards for the presentation.
"Bella!," a voice called out, and I turned to see my co-worker, Angela. "They are all waiting for you in the conference room! Where have you been?"
"I was stuck in traffic!," I whispered-shouted. "Is Victoria in there?"
"Yes, and she's not happy," Angela said, helping me with the boards.
"Shit," I hissed, biting my lip.
"This is a multi-billion company, Bella. If we get this, we are so golden. And if we don't get this, we are fucked," she said. "It's all on you."
"Wow," I said sarcastically. "Thanks."
"Come on, we gotta get you in there. Now," she urged, grabbing my sleeve and flying me down the office and just before we hit the closed door, she stopped – glancing over my attire.
"I kind of ran up here," I told her as an excuse and she only raised a brow as she began brushing little fuzzies off my stripped shirt, smoothing down my pencil skirt and tucking my hair behind my ear. "What's the damage?," I ask.
"It'll have to do," she says and I frown just as she knocks on the door.
"Come in," I hear Victoria say and Angela gives me a sympathetic look as she turns the knob, the view of the conference room now in front of me. Numerous of people sat at the long table, Victoria giving me the hardest glare I had ever seen in my life. Men in suits stared at me as if they were bored, and one man in particular sat in the large leather seat, leaning back as he smiled.
That was Carlisle Cullen.
Entrepreneur, business man, celebrity in the money world.
Probably the richest man in the United States.
And even though he was smiling at me, I was intimidated. He wore an all black suit, his blonde hair slicked back as one hand covered his other. I was frozen outside of the door and then felt a nudge, Angela pushing my way in.
"Carlisle, this is Bella Swan. She will be pitching the ad ideas," Victoria said. Angela pushed me once more from my frozen state and I stepped into the room.
And it was like a snap of a finger.
The moment I crossed the threshold, I wasn't Bella Swan. I was Isabella Swan. Advertisement Professional, ready to make a sale. It was so odd, how I was so nervous just minutes before, but it's like something comes over me when I hit the conference room. I knew I was prepared, I believed in my art, and I was going to sell this motherfucking shit so hard that Carlisle Cullen wouldn't even know what hit him.
"Mr. Cullen," I say, stepping around the table of his colleagues as I reached my hand to his. Carlisle grabbed it graciously, shaking gently with a nod of his head. "I'm sincerely sorry that you had to wait on me."
"No worries, Miss. Swan," he told me with a generous smile. I sat straight up, looking at Victoria who let out a breath of relief, encouraging me to continue with a smile. I looked to everyone at the table as Angela set up my designs behind me, pinching my side to tell me that I was all set. She left with a smile and exited the room, closing the door behind her.
"Good Morning, everyone." I smiled. "I'm just going to cut right to chase here, no beating around the bush or going off my point. Cullen Enterprises makes little over a billion dollars a year with their income and outcome of different businesses. We here at Hastings believe that such a powerful company needs a powerful way to speak to the people. I have been researching your company for awhile now, Mr. Cullen, and I have to say that flabbergasted isn't even remotely the emotion I feel when I think of your company."
I turned around, pulling off the sheet that covered my first board presenting the old logo of Cullen Enterprises. It was a single C with the word Enterprises underneath it. It wasn't too much to the eye – which is exactly why I was here.
"With all due respect, Sir, whoever designed this had the right idea in mind. But from my research I have concluded that this design was made in the early ninety's correct?" I asked, and Carlisle only nodded his head. "It is two thousand and eleven now, and the way people see things have changed. Studies show that more vibrant colors and bold texts catch attention more so than a plain black and white."
"We here at Hastings have drawn up a blueprint of what the new logo of Cullen Enterprise could possibly look like," I turned around and switched the boards. "Presenting the new look of Cullen Enterprises."
I heard a few murmurs among the crowd at the table as they looked upon the latest of my artwork. I was smug about it – I wasn't even going to lie. The letters 'C' and 'E' were right next to each other, in a bold font as it was decked in an electric blue – a silver ring running across it. It was bright, it was strong, it represented the Cullen Company in everyway shape and form.
Victoria glanced between Carlisle and I, waiting for his reply. His smile had faded, but he wasn't frowning. He was contemplating. I wanted to say something; I wanted to tell him that it could be adjusted if he wanted it to. This was just a blueprint. It wasn't set in stone. We could change it. But the unexpected happened and Carlisle smiled brightly, bringing his hands together.
"I love it." He told me and I couldn't contain my excitement. I bit onto my lip, trying not to do a happy dance.
"Really?" I asked hopefully.
"What do you guys think?," Carlisle asked turning to his colleagues who muttered their agreement and nodded their heads. Victoria looked at me with a bright smile, and I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes. "I think it's settled then, Bella. You've sold me."
"Seriously? ," I gaped, a little too stunned.
"Really," he chuckled, nodding his head. "It's the very kind of logo we have been looking for."
"It was that easy? Just like that?" My word vomit was in full blast and Victoria stood up, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes at me.
"Yes, Miss. Swan. Just like that." He laughed, reaching out to grab my hand and shaking it firmly. "You set up a good presentation, but I think the real thing that sold me was your talent. You have a very sharp eye. It's good for this kind of business, and we at Cullen Enterprises would love doing business with you."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Cullen," Victoria said, reaching forward and grabbing his hand, shaking it confidently. "Thank you so much. You won't regret this, I promise you. My new partner and I would love to do business with you, and we both thank you from the bottom of our hearts that you have chosen with us."
I couldn't even hear the rest of her sentence.
It faded out with the rest of the world.
Did she say… New partner?
I looked at Victoria who was smiling so wide, I was surprised her face hadn't cracked.
"Really? ," I asked her, hopeful and nervous. Victoria nodded her head and reached for my hand, patting it gently.
"Really," she whispered.
"Then it's settled. We will send the paperwork to you tomorrow and the editors over at my company here to get the sketches ready for transferring." Carlisle turned around with a grin, talking to his coworkers and shaking their hands. Victoria turned to me with widened eyes and grabbed my hand, and we giggled like school girls.
"Bella you did amazing," she told me just as the door knocked. "I'm so proud of you." She brought me into a big hug and I felt weightless. I felt as if I was walking on air. I did it. I had actually did it.
I didn't care about the fact that my mother and father were fighting, I didn't care that I was late today, or I had been nervous for the past few months of my life for this exact meeting. Nothing bad meant anything right now. I was partner. I was moving up. My dreams were coming true.
Nothing could bring me down.
Or at least that's what I thought.
"Edward!" Carlisle shouted. "You're late."
Victoria and I turned to the man who had just walked in and in within one second, it felt like my world was crashing down, pulling me from my high.
No, no. It can't be.
It was the suit. It wasn't the same one I had seen before, but slightly familiar. And within those moments of laying my eyes on him, I could smell the salt water of the beach; and hear the waves crashing onto the sand as the air was thick and hot.
I could feel him around me – his large hands pinning me down as he took me in so many ways that I couldn't even fathom it. I could still feel the way he kissed my neck, his teeth grazing down my spine as he pushed in again and again. It was incredible. It was blissful.
It was impossible.
The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked.
This can't be happening.
He didn't show any emotion – not like me. Maybe for a split second he looked surprised, but after that it was like he didn't notice me at all. His jaw was tight and his fists were clenched, and I knew he remembered. He was trying to forget. I felt the bile rise in my throat. I felt sick. I was becoming dizzy and I had to get out of there.
"Bella, are you okay?," Victoria whispered. I only shook my head, darting out the door as I made my escape, heading straight for the bathroom.
OKAY, i know. IKNOW.
This is my THIRD story.
But let me explain, kay?
Those two other stories, they should have been one shots. I didn't put a lot of thought into them. I kind of just had an idea and wrote them down. Which is why I deleted them. One day I try and readjust them and put them up as one-shots.
This story is different.
Let me tell you why.
For this story, I actually have written down a timeline, outline, etc.
I'm going to update DAILY. Every Sunday. (this could change due to my schedule, but it will be updated once a week, unless I tell you guys that a new chapter won't be updated till another two weeks due to holidays or family things, or whatever.)
And I already have two chapters down, almost done with the third chapter. So this ball is rolling.
I really want this to work out, so please bear with me. I hate jumping from story to story, but I'm just trying to find my place.
I sound like a sappy teen.
So with that said, I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter.
Shout out to my TWO betas, yes - I have two :) they are both amazing and I can't do this shit without them.
And thanks for reading.
See you next Sunday! :)
- Wango