Coffee Black
So I am a new writer here and I guess I just want to give this new idea that's been swimming around in my head. So before I go insane here is a small sneak peak into what I am thinking. It's just a small snapshot, if I get a lot of feedback and you guys want more, let me know and I will go on with the show, so to speak. So let me know, and also, I love feedback and criticism, just please don't say anything about the plot line. If you don't like it just don't read it. Please and thank you for reading!
I own no characters or twilight which was written by Stephanie Meyer. I just take her characters and make them play with each other.
Why did I decide tonight was the night that, I should help Angela? I mean really, I should have thought twice. If I had maybe I would not find myself being pressed up against my office door, with two determined palms of my editor and chief kneading and groping my ass. Fuck, I really should have said no. The editor who shall remain nameless because he apparently enjoys playing 'mind' games with me. Mind games as in turn me on and make me so wound up that I can't speak. Make me flustered and angry because my article is his words, "Kitty shit." Seriously I became assistant editor to the news department of the paper after only one semester of working for my professor; I was humbled and honored to say the least and I couldn't believe it. But Assward decided that he should be the one to snap the string on my dreams so to speak the bastard. I should stick it to him right where he deserves it but… I can't. Now why you may ask me?
Well here comes the unethical portion of my rant. Assward editor is unfortunately stinging me in my ass cramp, hot. To be honest hot is an undermined statement when it comes to him. He is stunning, gorgeous. With a jaw line I want to nibble on, broad shoulders, dressing like he came out of an H&M photo shoot, I am always wound up. I wish I could say his looks are the only thing going for him, but then I would be a liar. In truth he is the most intelligent being I've yet met thus far. He always has brilliant ideas for the paper, and even though his edits on my paper make me want to explode, after I've rewritten and done the edits I can't help but to agree with him. So in every sense of the word,' Assward 'is really honestly Edward Cullen, the editor and chief of not only the campus paper, but also my wet dreams at night. And that is what makes my life hell all the more. Because tonight Angela convinced me to take her workload of edits she needs to finalize and read in order to go out with Ben, her cute as fuck boyfriend. And when I succumbed to her puppy dog eyes, I didn't realize what I was getting into. Which was Assward editor and chief deciding to tell me my latest piece was yet again, "kitty shit?" So now we find ourselves here again back at the beginning with me telling him finally a piece of my mind without my head editor, Professor Macfere, here to listen.
"You know what Edward; fuck you and your 'kitty shit' thoughts on my piece!" I turned too swivel around in my chair to glare up at that stupid hot ass face, which only worked to make me angrier because now I was turned on when I should be pissed.
"Now, now Bella," he said thrumming his knuckles against my desk, "no need to get all fired up kitty." Fuck me his grin was coming into play, "Just do the revisions and your paper will be as good as new." As he turned to leave the room with his cocky swagger, sway in motion, I blurted out all of my pent up aggression at him, because me being me, I can't let this go. This was in my defense my seventh stupid edit for him and this would be the eighth time. I'm not sure if your familiar with a college student's life, but mine did not have time for eight fucking edits.
I aggressively stood from the chair.
"Fuck that, if you want this edit done then do this article yourself, there's nothing left wrong with my paper." I began grabbing my bag, and laptop getting ready to head out for the evening.
I felt his eyes glaring at the back of my head as I gathered my things but I couldn't find it in me to give two shits.
"So what, just giving up huh?" He ground out through gritted teeth, "I thought there was more back bone to you Izzy." I hated when he called me Izzy, it made my insides quiver…
"I'm not giving up," I said while hauling my bag over my shoulder," I'm just giving up on your bullshit, you always hound on me and give me extra crap about my articles and I'm just about fed up." I finally grabbed the last of my things and aggressively strode toward the door, almost making my dramatic exit worthy of an Oscar. And it would have been as well, had he of not done what he did next.
As I attempted to side step him to the door, I suddenly found myself slammed up against my now closed door, with my bag on the floor.
"What the fuck is your prob-!" I barely got the words out of my mouth before suddenly having my mouth violated and subdued by the soft, yet provoking and commanding lips of Assward, my editor and chief.
So if you want more just review or like it and let me know. Thanks for reading!