Blind Lust
Summary:
According to the internet, she was a busty, scantily clad woman who easily aroused him. According to the tabloids, she was the bratty daughter of the CEO of a large enterprise. According to his mother, she was an elegant, determined woman who bored him.
But, in the midst of another blind date set up by his mother, Edward realized five things:
One: Isabella Swan was not, in fact, someone who bored him.
Two: Isabella Swan was not bratty in the slightest.
Three: Isabella Swan was, in fact, rather indifferent to almost everything.
Four: Isabella Swan was excelling in the chest area, despite the inaccuracy of the pictures he had googled.
Five: Isabella Swan aroused him. Terribly.
He could have nearly any woman he wanted— and Edward always got what he wanted. But will his charismatic skills and impeccable looks be enough to lure this apathetic woman into his bed? Will his blind lust towards her be enough to spark her interest?
Chapter One: Isabella Swan
Edward truly loved his mother. Esme was someone whom he could not, both literally and figuratively, live without. However, he could decidedly live without her unceasing meddling with his love life (or "lack thereof," she'd nag).
Edward also truly loved his bachelor days. He was quite content with being alone and being able to pursue women at his leisure. He wasn't a man-whore, by any means. He simply enjoyed having a choice.
Edward did not enjoy how Esme stripped this choice away from him by setting him up on yet another blind date. It was with some some-what famous girl whom he had never even heard of. A date with the daughter of the CEO of the Swan Enterprise… Edward was far from thrilled.
"It's only lunch. Nothing formal," Esme had smiled, handing him a card with elaborate script. He held the card in his hands.
Isabella Swan.
1:00 pm
La'Plaza
La'Plaza was the large atrium-like room at the golf club… and Edward hated golf. He hated blind dates. He was already starting to hate this "Isabella Swan."
His mother had waved all three facts off with a fluttery gesture of her hand, so he was stuck meeting with "Isabella Swan." For now, at least. Edward was almost positive he wouldn't be able to stand her, and so another meeting arranged by his mother would not be arranged next time. Alas, he would meet with her just today to appease Esme.
Admittedly, he had googled "Isabella Swan" in attempt to get some kind of background on her and make this blind date not so blind. But upon clicking on images, the first ones to appear were that of a very scantily clad woman with enormous breasts in a promiscuous position, which both aroused but disgusted Edward immensely.
Immediately exiting of out the browser, he had come to a decision: "Isabella Swan" was not someone he'd willingly meet… in the broad, public daylight, at least. He knew there had to be a reason he had never heard of her before, and he determined that was certainly the cause. It was shameful, really, especially considering who her father was!
So there he was, one o'clock pm, at the entrance of La'Plaza and looking for a pretty woman with a stripper-esque outfit (and big tits). A three sixty scan around the inner building revealed no hooker waiting to pop out at him, and Edward sighed to himself.
She was late. And he was slowly becoming more and more irritated with her, his mother, and life in general.
Edward sighed again, took his hands (that had somehow gravitated into his pockets) out, flexed his fingers, and began to search for a table that he could wait at until "Isabella Swan" arrived.
But when he was halfway to an empty lounge table, a waiter with dishes piled up to his neck came into Edward's way. Quick on his feet, Edward sidestepped out of the waiter's path… and into another person.
"Shit!" the person—whom he deemed female—exclaimed, as she jumped out of her chair. Edward looked down at the woman, only to realize he had indirectly poured her hot coffee onto her white blouse that was becoming more and more transparent as time passed. (Meanwhile, his member enclosed behind his neatly pressed slacks was becoming tighter and tighter.)
For a moment he stared at the shirt molding to her breasts, her pert nipples exposing themselves, before he shook his head, breaking out of the perverted reverie.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry," Edward apologized, mentally cursing at himself for blatantly checking her out, rather than helping her clean up the mess.
The woman grabbed her napkin, dabbing at the upper portion of her shirt as she sat back down. He almost would have thought she was ignoring him, if she hadn't responded, "Things happen." Her reply had sent him into a surprised silence, and he quietly watched her adjust her now soaked bra, not knowing what else to do.
"Um, I'm really sorry about," Edward gestured to her soiled top, "...that."
Someone snorted from the side of him, and turning around, he noticed another girl silently reading a magazine at the same table. He fidgeted awkwardly, conspicuously rearranging his pants, and checking around hastily for "Isabella Swan" once more. (She hadn't arrived yet.)
"Is there anything I can do?"
The woman nodded towards the third seat at the table, silently gesturing for him to sit down. "Well, you can start by buying me another cup of coffee."
Edward glanced around La'Plaza for "Isabella Swan" but when he didn't see her, he slipped into the lounge chair smoothly.
He knew it was bad and ill-mannered of him, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her shirt. If she had noticed, she didn't call him out on it, and for that, he was grateful.
However, the woman's friend took notice, and she snorted again. "Eyes on her face, buddy." And then she flipped a page in her magazine, returning her attention to whatever was on the page.
Normally he wouldn't ever feel embarrassed to be staring at a woman's rack—guilty, maybe, but smug, always. But now, he couldn't help but blush at being caught.
In an attempt to clear the awkwardness that was gathering in the air,Edward waved another waiter down and ordered a black coffee. Only once the waiter left, Edward realized that he had never asked her what type of coffee she wanted; he had automatically ordered as if he was ordering a coffee for himself.
He looked at the woman (more so, eyeing her chest) sheepishly. "Sorry, I forgot to ask what you wanted... I can call him down and reorder."
Her guarded brown eyes stared at him intensely. "Black is fine."
They (plus her friend) sat around the circular lounge table in a silence so awkward it was nearly tangible. He coughed, his eyes flickering down to the watch on his wrist, and then around to the hall. "So, are you guys just sipping coffee here?" Edward wondered hesitantly.
"I'm supposed to meet someone," the woman replied, staring him down. His hope of bedding her one day quickly lowered—but his awakened appendage didn't.
Edward scanned the area for the nth time that hour. "As am I."
The woman across from him nodded, her brown waves having fallen in front of her eyes. "I've noticed."
Her friend's eyes lifted from the magazine, landing on the woman. "Bella, how long is he going to take? We've been here for almost twenty minutes already; are you sure he's even going to turn up?"
"Bella" turns to her friend. "Rose, it's only been a quarter past one, and if I knew how long he was going to take, you'd be the first to know." Her tongue peeked out to moisten her top lip, and then the bottom, before she bit down on it. Edward swore his cock just twitched. "Besides, you didn't have to come with me on the blind date."
Edward stiffened in his chair, not only at the double entendre of "come with me," but also the general conversation.
Isabella Swan.
1:00 pm.
La'Plaza.
Bella.
Quarter past one.
Blind date.
Was it possible that this woman whom he had spilled coffee on was… "Isabella Swan?" This seemingly apathetic woman? No, it couldn't be.
For starters, she certainly didn't look much like the "Isabella Swan" in the pictures…
… but that didn't mean it made him lust after her any less.