Hey, this is my first Lemon. :) I hope I do it justice. Oh, and the same thing is on Fictionpress, only with different names. And, this is AU.

Soooooo, read on!

Before the Lightening Strikes

She looked up from her glass, the music reverberating throughout her small, lithe body. The bartender seemed willing enough to entertain her for the night, but she wasn't looking for just a hook-up. Just maybe…maybe a relationship? Is that a lot to ask for? The last times she'd been in a relationship was in last October, and they had been engaged. He had suddenly ended it, explaining that he had been cheating on her with her roommate.

It wasn't that she couldn't get a date – she could get many – it was that she didn't want to. Nine months had passed since then, and she was ready to date again. And, of course, no one seemed to be interested at the club. Except the bartender. Ugh.

*

His eyes roamed the club for the latest girl that was 'stalking' him, or 'dating' in her book. It was time to let her down easy, then go back to the dance floor, seducing another poor girl. Did he care that the girl, Lacey, was going to bawl her eyes out in the dirty bathroom? No. What he did care about was to get off of this boring seat.

Lacey took that as the time to come up to him, sitting down on his lap, sticking out her chest.

"Fang," she purred, batting her eyelashes. "You, me, and the bathroom."

Time for the letdown. "Listen, Lacey. I think that you're insanely hot, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now," I said over the loud music, trying to be as gentle as I could.

"B – but you said you loved me!" she cried, tears already welling up in her eyes. Jesus. Needy much?

"Lacey," he murmured, his mouth moving towards her ear. "It's over." He pushed her off of his lap, getting up to head to the bar.

"Fang!" Lacey cried behind his retreating figure.

He walked calmly up to the bar, ordering a shot. He glanced over to the woman that was sitting there, and made it two shots.

She turned to him, her eyes flaming. "Um, what the hell?" she asked, anger spiking in her voice.

He took that moment to look her over. She had shoulder length dirty blond hair, beautiful brown eyes, a small, lithe body that was perfectly proportioned, and a splash of freckles over her cheeks and nose.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she sneered, taking a drink of her drink.

He smirked. "I would…but I'm afraid I don't have a camera." The bartender set down his shots, assessing him. Fang pushed one of the shots towards her, wondering if she would take it.

"I don't need charity."

He rolled his eyes. "Jesus, woman. It's only a drink." Her eyes flared when he said 'woman', and she set her jaw.

"Excuse me?" she growled, her eyes turning darker.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Hey, sorry. I wasn't trying to piss you off. I just wanted to come and warm up to a pretty lady like you," he murmured, moving closer.

She laughed. "Uhm-hm. Sure," she teased, warming up a little, her anger gone.

"What's your name?"

"Max," she responded lightly, drinking the shot.

"I'm Fang. It's a pleasure in meeting you."

*

She didn't know what was happening, or what made her go to his house, or his penthouse. She wasn't drunk; she could hold her liquor pretty damn well, and so could he.

He wrestled her tongue for dominance, all while his hands were trailing to the bottom of her, as she thinks, slutty dress.

It was a deep red, ended at the top of her thighs in a band, and the top was cut low to reveal her pierced belly-button. The only thing that was keeping her breasts from slipping out was a silver ring attaching the parts together. Paired with four-inch red heels, she looked damn good.

His hands hiked up her dress a little, and then higher until it was completely off. He only broke the kiss for a second to yank off the dress, and then reconnected with her mouth.

Due to the fact that the dress was so low cut, she couldn't wear a bra. So here she was; the only article of clothing separating them was her low cut lacy black underwear.

She broke the kiss, looking up at him as she slipped out of her heels. Without the extra height, she had to stand on her tip toes to get to him.

"You're wearing too many clothes," she growled, then proceeded to swiftly undo the buttons of his Oxford shirt. She pulled it off of him, and then moved to his belt. She undid it, pushing down his pants so that he was only in his boxers.

He picked her up, which caused her to wrap her legs around his naked torso, and brought her over to the soft, king sized bed. He captured her lips with his own, immediately slipping his tongue into her mouth again.

She pulled away for some breath as he moved down her neck, sucking and biting on her sensitive spot, and then further.

One hand moved to caress the tanned mound, making her nipples perk up. He poked his head up and grinned, then moved his mouth to envelop one of them, all while his hand kept up with its ministrations on her other. His tongue swirled around the nipple, making her arch into his mouth. He nipped gently, making her gasp. He switched to the other, the cold shocking her.

He kissed lower and lower, down her tanned and flat stomach, to her belly-button, and then to the hem of her panties. He pulled them down with his teeth, torturously slow. Heat pooled in her lower region, her heart beat picking up speed.

He moved up her body, kissing her while his hard erection pressed into her stomach. One of his hands moved down her body, stopping at her lower region. His finger probed teasingly, then delved inside of her, pumping slowly. He added another, then another, pumping faster and faster. She gasped into his mouth, right as he did a scissor motion. She moaned loudly, bucking into his hand.

Suddenly, his fingers were gone, and so was his body heat. He moved back on his haunches, looking at her half-lidded face. She twisted painfully, her walls tightening.

"Fang…I was so close," she groaned, taking in his sweaty forehead and lust-filled eyes.

"Max…," he sighed, then reached into his bedside table drawer, retrieving a condom. He wiggled his eye brows. "Textured," he said while winking.

She moaned again, squeezing her eyes shut. She heard his boxers being flown to the other side of the room, which made her open her eyes.

Holy shit. Fang was…well endowed. He moved up, his face centimeters away from hers.

"Max…what do you want?" he murmured, his hot breath in her face.

"You know what I want, Fang," she groaned, bucking her hips.

He smirked. "Ah, ah, ah. Now, you aren't getting any of this until you tell me what you want."

"Jesus Christ, Fang. I want you to fuck me like an animal."

He grinned. "If you say so," he said, rolling on the condom, then slamming into her.

Holy fucking shit. She moaned loudly, her lips parting. "Fang," she moaned again, coming closer. "Faster. Harder."

He complied, going fast and hard. She came soon after, with him right along beside her, a crack of thunder sounding from outside. Lightning soon lit up the room.

"Oh, my fucking god. That was amazing," she sighed as they collapsed, side by side.

"I know," he murmured, pulling the covers around them, holding her close as they drifted off to sleep.

*

She woke up in Fang's arms. She sighed as she got out of bed, not waking him, finding his shirt. She buttoned it up, but leaving it open slightly as she opened the blinds. Sunlight poured in, sending Fang's jet black hair shining. His eyes opened, revealing deep brown.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked curiously, already knowing.

"I was just thinking about how damn good you look in my Oxford."

She smiled, coming over to lie next to him.

"Jesus, Max. If I knew role-playing would have this after affect, then we would've done it sooner," he sighed, looking at his gorgeous fiancée.

She laughed. "Ah, you love my ideas. And, I hate you," she said, punching his shoulder slightly.

"For what?"

"For my torturously long climax. Bastard," she said while grinning.

He sighed. "I love you, you know," he murmured.

"I love you too, Fang."

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