Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The original plot is the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning: this story contains explicit descriptions of sex. Hell, you could probably say that this is just one big fat lemon. So, if you're underage, hit that "back" button right now. I can't stop you, of course, but don't blame me for corrupting your young mind after you read this. Everyone else, please enjoy yourselves.
P.S. – In this story, the book "Forever Dawn" refers to the events happening in "Twilight" only.
Off the Road - Part I
It amused me to drive by the city of Forks. I hadn't done it a lot; in fact, this was only the third time I had done so since I'd heard that such a place even existed. The first time was six months ago, and it was mostly because I'd gotten lost and made a wrong turn somewhere on my way to Seattle. I ended up taking a very large detour and spent the night at a motel in Port Angeles. The second time I drove by on my way back from Seattle, just to make sure I hadn't imagined the small town.
It was only much later that I found out about the stories surrounding it.
As I drove, I thought about the day six months ago when I'd made the decision to move from the small town of Ashland to the big city of Seattle. It had actually been a very easy decision to make; there was nothing holding me there. I had no family or friends tying me to Wisconsin, and the two jobs I held—one at the local coffee shop, and the other as a night clerk at the local motel—they paid the bills, but that's the only good thing I could say about them.
I had been on my own since I turned eighteen and moved out of my mother's house and into the college dorms. Three years after that, with a bachelor's degree under my belt, I moved to my very first apartment.
I called my mother after graduation and learned that my little sister had just left for college herself—she chose to go to England after receiving a full scholarship—and that my mother was in the process of selling her own house and moving back to Italy.
I didn't have a place to go back to even if I'd wanted to, so I picked up a map and chose Ashland, Wisconsin. It was a random choice, nothing more than sticking my finger on the map and picking the first small town I came across—I didn't feel like being swallowed by the big city.
I understood both my sister and my mother and didn't fault them for their choices. My mother missed her family—all of which still lived in Italy—and with very little money available, a full scholarship was a great deal for my sister.
I hadn't been in contact with my father for years. The last I heard of him was from a distant relative who told me that he had remarried and had a son. I was happy for him. My father had always wanted a son, but he only got daughters from my mother.
Six months ago, just shortly after I'd turned twenty-three, I got a call from Seattle with a job offer. They had read several of my articles online and asked if I would be interested in working for them. The salary they were offering was not very high, but it was a great improvement from the two lousy jobs I had at that moment, and writing was a great deal less tiring than waiting tables or working night shifts.
That was how I got to be driving by Forks the first time around; I didn't have a GPS in my car and, apparently, my sense of direction left much to be desired.
Today I was driving by because I loved the greenery around me. Call me crazy, but I loved the gray weather and the rain, and I couldn't be happier when the staccato of raindrops played on my window. My mother always said that this was because I was born in the fall. I didn't really care to think about the why; I just enjoyed it.
I passed Port Angeles and though it was still fairly early in the day, the sky was already darkening. It might have been smarter to turn then, to stop in one of the several hotels Port Angeles had to offer, but I decided to pass it over and drive straight to Forks. The rain soon started to fall, and with a smile, I let my thoughts drift again.
o.O.o
After arriving in Seattle—a day late due to the unexpected detour—and settling into my new apartment, I went online. I'd found the website for the city of Forks easily enough, but it was the third link on the list of search results that surprised me. It led to a website dedicated to a book that had been published recently.
It wasn't the name of the book—Forever Dawn—that had caught my attention, nor was it the fact that its plot was centered in Forks. No, what had me stunned speechless was the name of the main character: Bella Swan.
It was my name!
At first, I thought I'd made a mistake—that or that the website had gotten it wrong—so the next day, I went out and bought the book. It wasn't a mistake. Isabella Swan was, in fact, the name of the character. No one was pulling my leg.
Next, I called my mother. She had a great time laughing at my expense.
"Relax, Bella. You simply have a common name. That is all," she told me.
"But the last name, too?"
She chuckled again. "Swan isn't that rare, either, honey."
We exchanged several more pleasantries before she hung up, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Eventually, I decided that I had nothing to lose and started reading the book. I was both curious and afraid of what might be written there, but when I could find no more similarities to myself or to any events in my life, I relaxed. I didn't know anyone by the name of Edward Cullen or Jacob Black, and, obviously, vampires were nothing more than myth.
I looked nothing like the girl in the books. I was older than her—twenty-three to her seventeen. I had light brown hair, and my eyes were green. More than that, I wasn't even remotely clumsy. My father's name wasn't Charlie, and my mother wasn't a Renée in neither name nor character. In fact, the further I read into the book, the more relaxed I became. The only thing I had in common with the book was my name.
During the next six months, the book became very famous, and people were always amused when they heard my name. Some even asked if I'd changed my name because I was a fan of the book. What a ludicrous idea!
o.O.o
I arrived in Forks a little after seven and checked in the only hotel this small town had. The clerk looked at my ID three times, rolling his eyes and muttering the whole time, before he gave me the room key. I asked him what the matter was and was told that ever since Forever Dawn had been published, the city of Forks had been flooded with attention and not everyone liked it. It wasn't hard to guess he was among those who didn't like the newfound fame of Forks. Gritting my teeth, I plastered a smile on my lips, thanked him, and turned to find my room, eager to rid myself of his unpleasant company.
The room was small but clean, and the water in the shower was hot and very welcomed after the long day spent driving. I ate dinner in a small restaurant just across the street from the inn and went back to my room. It was still early, only half past nine, but I decided to call it a night; I was tired. The steady beating of the rain and wind against the window quickly lulled me to sleep.
o.O.o
Morning came accompanied by more clouds and rain.
Perfect.
I was smiling as I walked out of my room, went down the stairs, and headed to my car.
I drove down the highway with my windows rolled down. The rain had stopped, and although it was still gray and the air was moist, there was nothing that could beat the scent of the forest just after the rain—at least not in my book.
About forty miles south of Forks, just as the highway curved away from the ocean inland, I suddenly felt an urge to make a turn off the highway. I slowed down and made the turn into the narrow path that wounded into the forest. The light was filtering through the green canopy as I drove for another mile or two up the path before coming to a stop. The path curved again, but I found that I felt no desire to continued driving.
Parking the car next to a fallen tree on the edge of the forest, I watched the beautiful scenery around me. I decided that I could spare an hour or two for a walk inside the Olympic National Park. I had passed it twice already and didn't stop, so why waste the opportunity for the third time?
I took a bottle of water with me, threw my purse in the trunk, and locked the car. Looking around, I found several trails leading away from this small clearing. I picked one at random and began walking further into the forest.
It was such a beautiful day—chilly, grey, and smelling of rain—that I let my imagination wander. I would have loved to live here. A small cottage with a fireplace and a backyard that stretched out to the forest was a dream of mine ever since I was a little girl. Walking through the forest, I could almost picture the cottage waiting for me just around the next curve of the path.
I didn't venture too far in, and I stayed on the marked trail. I was very much aware of the fact that getting lost wasn't really on my agenda today, but soon my legs carried me far enough so that I could no longer see the car or hear the road. Another turn of the trail brought me in front of a small waterfall, and I sat on a boulder next to it. It was very peaceful. The sounds of the forest filled my ears—the distant birds singing, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and the soft trickle of water. It was as close to paradise as I imagined was possible.
I have no idea how long I sat there, losing myself in my thoughts, before I started feeling as though I was being watched. I looked around me but could find no one. The forest around me was empty and quiet. A little too quiet. Strange.
A rustle of leaves to my right startled me, and I jumped to my feet. There was nothing there, but my heart was already racing in my chest. I tried taking several deep breaths to calm myself, all the while chanting in my head, it's just your imagination; there's no one there. It's just your imagination.
Another rustling noise, this time from my left, was the last straw. I reached inside my pocket and took out my keychain, holding the long car key between my fingers and clenching my fist around the rest of the keys. It was my only weapon against whomever or whatever was in the forest. Primitive and likely ineffective, but it made me feel better to have something to defend myself with.
God, I was so stupid! What on Earth had prompted me to take a bloody walk inside the forest? Didn't I read enough about people disappearing in areas just like the one where I stood?
I grew even more anxious when I noticed more noises around me. Finally, I decided that the best thing to do would be to get the hell out of Dodge, so I turned on my heels and began walking in the direction of my car. I didn't want to risk falling, so I didn't run, but I walked as fast as my legs would move.
If I could just get to my car...
However, when a twig snapped behind me, all thoughts about walking flew out of my head. It was more than likely that I was the one who stepped on the damned thing, but I couldn't allow myself to rely on that possibility. I was in good shape and wearing sneakers, so I knew that I shouldn't have a problem reaching my car quickly—that is, if I didn't fall flat on my face while trying to get there.
I could see the trees thinning out, and the glimpse of the silver color of my car began to shine through the green. Just a little further, I thought, breathing heavily as I pushed myself to run faster, my eyes fixed on my target—my car, my safe haven.
I should have remembered that running without looking down was not a good idea.
I tripped over something—a tree root, probably—and went flying in the air for a fraction of a second before meeting the ground, palms and knees first. My knee landed on a hidden rock in the forest ground, and my vision blurred. For a moment, I couldn't see anything but black spots dancing before my eyes.
As I pulled myself back up, I hissed at the pain shooting up my leg. Trying to brush the dirt off my palms also proved painful—my left palm was covered in blood and dirt. Great.
I tried moving my hand, and although it was painful, nothing seemed to be broken. Slowly, I stood up, wincing and cursing myself for running like a headless chicken in the middle of the forest.
A voice coming from behind me caused me to jump in my place and cry out when my knee protested against the sudden jolt.
"Are you all right, Miss?"
I found myself staring into the face of an angel.
I shook my head to rid myself of the ridiculous thought and focused my eyes on the man before me. He was tall, wide-shouldered, and very pale. His hair was so fair that it almost seemed white rather than blonde, and his eyes were the most amazing color of cobalt blue I had ever seen.
Once I was able to look away from his eyes and took in his clothes—way too light for the weather—I realized that angel wasn't quite the right term. He was a sexy devil, his leather pants hugging his thighs, his black sweater clinging to what had to be muscles achieved from years of physical labor. I wanted to lick his body and possibly take a few nips, too.
He was looking at me with curiosity in his eyes, and it was then that I remembered he had asked me a question that I had yet to answer.
"Ye—Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." I gave him a small smile and mentally slapped myself for ogling him as though I was on a diet and he was a three-tiered strawberry shortcake. Hey, it's not my fault that he looks good enough to eat! my inner voice retorted.
"Are you sure?" His soft voice caressed every nerve ending in my body, making me feel weak in the knees. "That was quite a fall."
I nodded, not trusting myself not to blurt out something really embarrassing like, 'I want to eat you', if I dared open my mouth.
"Are you lost?" he asked. His eyes focused on mine, and I found that I couldn't look away, nor did I want to.
I shook my head to indicate that I wasn't.
"My name is Carlisle."
The name sounded oddly familiar, but with his intense blue gaze directed at me, my thoughts were too scattered to even try to come up with an explanation for it.
"Bella," I managed to croak out and instantly blushed at the hoarse sound of my own voice, especially when compared to the softness of his. At least you didn't ask if you can have him for breakfast, I tried to encourage myself.
"Are you from around here, Bella?"
I thought about avoiding answering the question—or maybe lying—but I heard myself blurting out the truth. "No. I had just recently moved to Seattle." Yup, it's confirmed, no brain-to-mouth filter whatsoever.
"Did you drive here?"
I nodded. There was really no other way to come here, and the keys I was still clutching in my right hand were evidence enough. Plus, I'd already established that I couldn't lie to him as my brain seemed to be on vacation at the moment.
Despite the circumstance—alone in the woods with a stranger twice my size—he didn't seem threatening to me. In fact, there was something about him that calmed my panic down and made me feel oddly safe in his presence. My heart was still beating franticly, but that probably had more to do with my attraction to him than with the fear that had gripped me earlier.
He stretched his hand out to me and smiled.
Holy crow, this should be illegal!
The smile made him even more breathtaking. It was only a light curve of his full lips, but the hint of dimples in his cheeks was my undoing.
"May I escort you to your car?"
"You can take me anywhere you like." Shit, Did I just say that out loud?
o.O.o
That night, my sleep was haunted by a pair of beautiful blue eyes. They were everywhere, watching me with such intensity that they took over my entire dream. I twisted and turned in my bed, waking sporadically. Suddenly the room felt too hot, too stuffed, and my breathing too heavy.
The blue-eyed man, Carlisle, had an icy touch, but his hands had the softest skin I had ever sensed. In my dreams, he was touching me—on my forehead, on my shoulder—and whispering unintelligible words in my ears. They weren't nightmares, although one might call them such; they were just...weird.
The dreams might not have been unpleasant, but when I finally woke up the next morning, I felt exhausted and way too hot.
I went to the small bathroom and took a cold shower. My skin was so overheated that I didn't even bother opening the hot water tap. The towels were as was to be expected from a motel—small and somewhat scrubby—but they were all I had.
I looked up at the mirror while brushing my teeth and saw dark circles under my eyes. I also noticed that my skin looked even paler than was usual for me. My night's sleep must have been even worse than I had thought.
It was only when I was done brushing my teeth that I noticed something odd. It was not morning time at all; in fact, it looked like the middle of the night, judging from the darkness outside. But the darkness didn't bother me. It didn't bother me to the point where I hadn't even turned on the lights while I was showering. I didn't need them; I saw perfectly well without them.
I ran to the full-length mirror in the bedroom, still wrapped in the towel, and examined my face again. My eyes were dark, with no trace of the green in them, but it could have been because I was standing in complete darkness. I reached with my hand to touch my cheeks; they felt normal, no longer overheated, and not cold.
I tossed the towel aside and got dressed, only bothering to put on one layer of clothes. Then I walked over to open the window, pushing it open. The wind should have made me freeze, especially considering how little I had on, but it didn't. The caress of the air on my skin was actually pleasant as it brought with it the scents of the forest.
Other than the forest, I could smell traces of gasoline in the air, along with burning oil, cotton, plastic, dust, wet soil, and something so enticingly sweet that I leaned out the window a bit and took another deep gulp of air just so I could have another taste. The sweetness had increased considerably, and I felt an odd ache in the back of my throat. I must be coming down with a cold.
And standing underdressed with the window open in the middle of October isn't helping, I chided myself.
But I didn't want to close the window. I wanted to find out what it was that smelled so sweet. I examined the view from my window but could see only the parking lot at the back of the motel and the forest not fifteen feet away.
A man came out of the hotel and walked to his car, which was parked just under my window.
The sweet scent seemed to be coming from that man. I sniffed again. The smell reminded me of freshly baked bread covered with a thin layer of rich, creamy butter...and fresh strawberries...and ripe melons...and aromatic oranges...
It was as though every mouthwatering substance in the world had been combined into this one scent.
Whatever it was, I wanted it!
My body reacted quicker than ever before, and I found myself on the ground of the parking lot, landing on the balls of my feet. I didn't think about the fact that I had just jumped out of my second floor window. That was only a minor detail lost in the back of my mind.
I took in another gulp of air.
So sweet.
I could detect another dozen scents coming from somewhere near me, but the sweetness of that unknown something was overpowering everything. That man had it, and I wanted it! I heard a growl coming from deep inside my chest, and then my body coiled to spring.
But I never made it to the man. There was a thunder-like sound, and something collided with me, sending me flying to the side and into the trees. My body seemed to have developed some excellent instincts overnight, and I landed on my feet again.
I was enraged. Someone was trying to take away the sweet smell.
I growled at whatever it was that had hit me and found myself being sent flying once again, only this time my body collided with the ground before I could twist myself into landing on my feet, and something hard pressed me down, restraining me. It wasn't painful, I noticed. The hard landing should have at least bruised me, but I felt no pain. Actually, what I felt was anger.
"Bella, stop, please. You don't want to do that," a voice, so enticing in its softness, said.
My eyes focused on the man above me. I should have been terrified—I was pinned down by some strange man in the middle of a forest, after all—but the only thing I felt was fury over being denied access to that sweet scent. It was gone. I inhaled again and could detect only the scent of the forest combined with cotton, denim, and something I couldn't quite name. It was a mixture of lilac, some kind of soap, and...cherries? Peaches? The scent had an elusive quality that I could not decipher.
I was immediately distracted by this new invasion to my senses. I sniffed the air again, curious, and realized that the scent was coming from the man, who was still looking at me with dark eyes, and that he actually smelled wonderfully. I couldn't find the right words to describe his scent. It reminded me of the way the air smelled in the early morning hours, fresh and invigorating, but the scent was also a little sweet, a bit lemony, and it had a trace of musk to it.
My anger forgotten, thoughts about the mysterious sweetness were pushed aside, and my focus shifted to the man. His face was somewhat familiar, with strong features, firm jawline, and full lips that were begging to be kissed. That, along with a straight nose and high cheekbones all combined to create the most beautiful male my eyes had ever seen. His face was framed with mid-length blond locks.
He was breathtaking.
I ignored the words that the man was speaking; they were unimportant. Now that my mind wasn't consumed by the desire to find out what the sweet-smelling object was, it was overcome by this man. I wanted to devour him. I wanted to drown myself in his scent and drown him in mine.
A new sound came from my chest. It was vibrating gently and reminded me of a softer version of the growl that I had heard myself make earlier. My wrists were pinned next to my head and his weight was holding me down, and I found myself liking it rather than fearing the position.
Liquid fire was suddenly flowing through my veins. I was acutely aware of every curve of his body pressing over mine, his broad chest, his long muscular legs, his strong arms...and a distinct hardness was growing, pressing into my stomach.
I felt his chest vibrating in the same way as mine, and the same sound came from him. It was a purring-like sound, and it was music to my ears. My own purr grew louder, and my body arched to rub against him.
Mine.
His mouth came over mine to place a scorching kiss. He was met with equal eagerness. His taste was so much better than his scent. I couldn't get enough of him, his lips soft, his tongue strong, and his teeth nibbling on my bottom lip and drawing a moan from me.
A part of me noticed that we were both still purring loudly.
His hands no longer held my wrists; they were holding my head, angling me so he could slant his mouth on mine and plunge inside. I took advantage of the freedom of my hands to learn the texture of his blonde locks and the hardness of his back. He was straddling me, and there was no mistake in his desire. He was rock hard against me, and I found myself wanting nothing more than to feel him inside me.
I moaned and mewled as he kissed me, the sound coming from me primal and unfamiliar. His taste, his touch, his smell...it was overpowering. He dropped one hand from my hair to my breasts, cupping the orb of flesh and pinching the hard nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt. I didn't bother with a bra when I pulled the clothes on earlier, and now I was grateful for having fewer layers separating his touch and my skin.
His leg slid between mine, and I welcomed him with unhidden eagerness. I wanted to have him pressed against me as close as possible, and as soon as his hardness touched me, an ache formed in my belly. My hips bucking into his of their own accord, and my back arched to press my breasts harder into his caressing hands.
I was burning. I felt as though flames were coursing through my veins and that the only one who could put out the fire was the man above me.
"God, Bella, you feel so good." He growled, sending the flames down my body and straight into my core. I didn't know how he could still speak because I was well beyond forming words. My mind was clouded; desire, lust, and need mixing together had rendered me speechless.
I knew the sound of his voice. I knew the touch of his fingers. I knew that I had heard his name before, and I felt my very soul touching him. He was mine.
Clothes were ripped out of the way—both his and mine—and we both moaned at the first contact of his naked body on mine. I didn't feel the rough forest ground beneath me; it was like a soft blanket as far as I could tell. I only felt his mouth, kissing and nibbling my neck and shoulders; his hands massaging my breasts, tugging at my nipples; and his hard cock pressing over the center of my ache. There was only one last layer of fabric left that was preventing him from completing our union—my underwear. His had been torn away from his body about three seconds ago.
I slid my hand between us, desperate to touch him. My fingers wrapped around his cock, and I moaned when I felt how thick and hard he was. He hissed in pleasure, his mouth leaving my breast for a moment, when I began pumping my hand over him. His hips bucked into me, and his mouth returned to suckling my right breast.
I held his head with my other hand, my back arching again into his mouth. My body was begging, loudly, for him to take me.
"I can't wait any longer, my Bella," he whispered as his lips moved from my right breast to my left. He opened his mouth wide and took as much as he could from my breast into his mouth. "I need to be inside you," he murmured, his teeth holding my nipple.
"Yes..." I whimpered, my fingers tightening around his cock. His name was suddenly pulled from the fogginess of my memories. "Yes, my Carlisle."
I growled when his mouth suddenly left my breasts and his body moved down my body, leaving me without the feel of his weight. But when his eyes locked with mine, there was nothing but a purr vibrating in my chest.
I watched as he took my panties off using only his teeth. I saw the fire that was raging inside me echo in the flames dancing in his eyes. Neither of us dared to break the gaze as he made his way back up my legs, his tongue leaving a wet trace over my skin. He took a deep breath when he reached the apex of my thighs.
"You smell absolutely divine, my Bella. I will taste you later," he vowed, and I whimpered at the delicious promise, "but right now, I need to feel you around my cock."
I moaned at the words and their meaning. "Yes." There was nothing more that I wanted in that moment than for him to slide up my body and do as he said.
His hands pushed my legs wider apart, spreading me before him. There was no shame or embarrassment inside me. This man was mine, and I was his. I drew pleasure from the moan he let out when his eyes finally dropped from my gaze to the core of my body.
"Carlisle..." I whimpered when he made no move to join our bodies. "I need you. Please."
I missed his touch. It had been only seconds since his body had laid over mine, but those seconds were too long now.
"And you shall have me," he said as his body came to cover mine again.
My purr grew louder as his skin touched me again. When his face came back to mine, his mouth catching my bottom lip and his teeth nibbling it, I felt the vibrations of his chest as well as heard his purr in my ears.
His mouth left mine and made a path of wet kisses over my jaw to my neck. He found a sensitive spot behind my ear that I wasn't even aware of just how sensitive it was until his tongue licked over it. I threw my head back with a cry that was between pleasure and pain, offering him better access to my neck.
I felt him sliding a hand between us and positioning himself between the folds of my sex. I moaned his name again, trying to press myself even closer to him, and then he finally joined us in one swift, deep thrust. The sudden pang of pain startled me, and my eyes flew open at the same time as my nails dug in his shoulders. He froze above me, and I was met with his shocked eyes.
The shock was quickly replaced with deep satisfaction.
"You're mine. Only mine," he growled.
"Yours," I echoed.