All That Glitters

by CullensTwiMistress

As a nurse, Bella's seen it all, or has she? When the clinic where she works needs an expansion, the guy hired isn't what she expects. Sometimes all that glitters, is all it takes. Romance/Humor

2. Chapter 2

So you've asked for it...and I hope I've delivered! :D

Huge thanks goes out to Maplestyle for pre-reading and Midnight Cougar for editing. I couldn't do it without your input, ladies!

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PART 2

. . .

I'm a nervous mess as I apply what feels like the fifth coat of lip-gloss. I have chewed off—or is that licked off—the other layers, which means I'm way more nervous than I'd like to admit, even to myself. This guy...this man, could easily be the best thing that ever happens to me, as well as the one thing that completely ruins me for other men. Looking at him, having him around me, hell, the feel of his arms holding me, are all things that are so foreign yet familiar. It's surreal, because I really don't know him very well.

The sound of my doorbell breaks me out of my musings. I open my eyes and take a deep breath. This is it. He's here to pick me up. No more putting this off.

I open the door, and the person on the other side leaves me speechless.

"H-Holy shit." I stumble on my words, my eyes taking him in. He's in dark jeans and a long-sleeved, green, V-neck shirt. He looks so...perfect. Edible. Were we going anywhere? 'Cause at this point, I think I'd be okay with staying in. I've never seen him in anything else than ratty jeans, dirty tees, or workout gear, all of which make him look delectable, but this… "You clean up really good."

His smile is shy, and he looks away. "I...thank you?"

I lick my lips, tasting the scent of him that permeates the air around me. How bad would it be if I stuck my nose in the crook of his neck right now and sniffed him? I can't take my eyes off him, and that's when I notice the stubble. "And you shaved?"

He scratches at the noticeably shorter hairs on his chin. "It grows fast."

I nod, the thought of longer scruff rubbing against my inner thighs making me squirm. "Oh." I lick my lips again. Forget the lip-gloss. I don't think I'll need it in hell...where I'll be going if I don't take my mind out of the gutter and back into...well, into my head. I squeeze my thighs together and squirm, leaning against the doorjamb for support.

"You look...really good yourself." He smirks, giving me the once-over. Damn if he doesn't know what he's doing to me.

Now I'm the one with the shy smile, trying to keep myself in check while my cheeks blaze pink from all the illicit thoughts strutting around inside my head. "Thanks. No Tinkerbell, though."

His laugh is contagious, and I watch, fascinated, as his eyes squint and shimmer while they scan me from head to toe again. "You'd look good wearing anything."

He licks his lips and, for a second, I ponder if those are the words he actually meant to say or if he's filtering them as I am. Lord knows he'd look just fine wearing nothing at all.

I take a deep, cleansing breath to calm my nerves and libido. Clearing all those thoughts away is hard, but keeping in mind that I don't know him well, brings reality crashing down on me like a sledgehammer.

"All right, where are you taking me, Mr. Masen?" I follow him out and lock the door behind me. I can do this. Dating isn't my strong suit and people...people like him—men—they scare me sometimes. I don't know what to say or do, and expectations can be so easily miscommunicated when entering a new relationship.

He walks around his truck and opens the passenger side door. "Dinner, for sure, and then I thought maybe dancing? If you don't mind my two left feet, that is?"

I walk around him and climb up into the cab of the truck, thankful he's got side steps installed there. "My own two left feet would feel at home stepping all over yours."

He says nothing, but I can see his shoulders bob up and down as he's closing the door and walking around the front of the truck. His quiet laughter makes me warm inside. He's so sweet; I can't believe nobody's taken him off the market yet.

When I look around the cab of truck, I'm stunned to see how clean it is. I would have expected some sawdust and tools lying around, but this pickup is cleaner than my car.

"Had it detailed," he tells me when he opens the driver's side door.

I turn to him, eyes wide, my mouth in a thin line. Did I say anything out loud?

"I saw you looking around." He smirks and winks, situating himself in the seat.

He buckles his seatbelt, and I'm reminded of the rules of the road and finally do the same.

Christ, I don't think a relationship with him would be a good idea. I'd probably become a babbling nincompoop, drooling and telling him how pretty he is all the time. Then it would become old, he'd get tired of it, and I'd grow old and alone. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all.

Before I can turn back tail and get out of the truck, a hand makes its way inside mine and Edward squeezes my fingers. I look up at him, and his eyes are on the road, as if he's not calming me down with his mere touch.

Swallowing my silly musings, I take a deep breath and sit back in the seat while he drives into town.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, nervousness apparent in my voice. I can't help it.

"There's this little Mexican place down on St. Hubert Boulevard, Moma Rosa's, have you heard of it?"

My face lights up and my stomach growls at the sound of that name. "I love Moma Rosa's."

"Oh, thank God." He gives my hand a soft squeeze. "It's my favorite place."

"Mine, too." I don't tell him it's because they have two for one Mojito Fridays or that the owner knows me by my first name since I'm there so often.

We're quiet again as we drive through the city. I watch the familiar buildings whiz by as we make our way to the little gem of a restaurant we apparently both love so much.

"I love the smell of this place." I take a deep breath as I exit the truck. "I know it sounds weird, but just the smell of the food from outside makes my stomach growl." I laugh at my own comment, and Edward takes my hand in his as we make our way toward the front door.

He chuckles along with me. "Me too, though I haven't been here in a while."

"Why not?" I make a face, because how dare he say such blasphemy.

We reach the front door, and he opens it for me, not answering my question. Stepping inside, I am greeted with the most mouthwatering combination of scents I've ever had the pleasure of encountering. It's even better than what little smell wafts out of the restaurant and greets us in the parking lot.

Admittedly, though, it comes a close second to Edward's manly man scent.

"About time you got here, Ed. I thought she'd stood you up."

I know that voice. "You know each other?" I frown, looking at Emmett, Dr. Cullen's brother-in-law, who happens to own this place.

Emmett comes forward and pulls me into a hug. "Of course we do, gorgeous. Ed here is my nephew. Didn't he tell you?"

I look up at Edward. "So Dr. Cullen?"

Edward smiles sheepishly and glares at Emmett. "Is technically not related to me. Rose is his sister, but I've known him since I was little."

"But she is my wife," boasts Emmett with a huge dimpled grin. I'd be smiling like that too if I got to eat her food every day.

I blink. "So Dr. Cullen is a family friend?"

Edward licks his bottom lip and grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners, while I melt inside because he's hot, and the smells in here make me weak in the knees. Apparently, my stomach and vagina are linked somehow. Maybe I'm part man; I mean, isn't that the way to their heart? Maybe this is Edward's plan? Maybe I'm just really hungry. Or horny. Or both.

"We all went to the same high school, though Carlisle graduated a few years ahead of us," Emmett chimes in as he picks up two menus and indicates for us to follow him.

I nod, putting the pieces together. "Okay." My world is getting smaller and smaller by the second.

I guess Edward and I need to get to know each other a bit more. I had no idea he was even from around here.

"I'll let you two look over the menu and send your waiter." Emmett's back to his professional role. "You two have a good time." He winks in my direction, then not-so-subtly wiggles his eyebrows and mouths, "Call me," at Edward before walking off toward another table.

I laugh, shaking my head at his antics. "That was subtle."

"Emmett and subtlety aren't familiar with each other, Bella." Edward shakes his head, laughing so hard his shoulders move up and down uncontrollably.

I narrow my eyes. "You would know, huh?"

Edward takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. "I would. I guess I should have said something earlier."

"I think a certain doctor owes me an explanation," I mumble, and pick up my menu. I already know what I'm having, but I need the distraction. My hands need something to hold onto, otherwise, they may end up around his neck. I feel a little embarrassed by my past actions right now.

"Hey." Edward's soft voice breaks me out of the staring contest I'm having with the images of nachos and salsa on the menu.

I look up, but can feel my cheeks blaze pink as my eyes meet his. "Yeah?"

"It's okay, right? You knowing all these people, and me knowing all the same people, it's all good, right?"

I guess my mild embarrassment about my boss knowing the guy whose pants I want to get into isn't such a huge deal, but thinking back to the closet, my cheeks get even warmer.

"It's not, I mean, it is, but...dude, we made out in a closet like teenagers and got caught." My eyes grow wide, and I'm pretty sure my face is red enough to complement the salsa right about now.

Also, I need a drink. Mojito, anyone?

I can see his lips twitching, as though he's trying not to laugh. I run a hand through my hair and take a deep, cleansing breath, and let it out slowly. I'm unable to stop myself from smiling, and then he's laughing, and when the waiter shows up to take our drink orders, we're full-on belly laughing. Ordering a Coke has never been so funny.

"But it was fun, wasn't it?" Edward asks, once the waiter is out of earshot and we've quieted down some.

I suck in my bottom lip and take a moment to look at him. His boyish charm is so endearing. How could anyone break this man's heart? "It was."

What I don't elaborate is, that it was not only unexpected, it was hot and naughty, and for a split second, I forgot all those things that make me stop living for the moment. For that tiny nanosecond when he pulled me into that closet and put his lips on mine, I was nothing but a girl, kissing a guy. I wasn't thinking about the 'what ifs' and all the things that could possibly go wrong. I was going with the flow and having a good time with a man who could make my toes curl with a single wink.

We're quiet, then, contemplative. Edward is playing with his butter knife, his eyes trained on me while I try not to feel awkward. I can feel his stare burning my skin, and it's making me feel all sorts of emotions. And horny. Why when he looks at me like that, does it make me so hot? When did I become that girl? Christ, I hope he's worth it.

"I was born and raised here. I have a cat named Atlas that greets me when I walk through the door. My dad passed away from cancer when I was twenty-three. Jasper and I are momma's boys, though." He smiles and takes a sip from his Coke. "Let's see… Oh, I got my appendix out when I was twelve—"

"Okay, I get it...you don't have to do that."

Edward reaches over the table and takes my hand. "I want you to feel comfortable with me, Bella."

"I do, I mean, I will. You're just… I mean, how have we never met?" Seems we had a bunch of people around us in common, yet I'm sure if I'd laid eyes on him in the past, I'd remember. A face like that is hard to forget.

He shrugs. "I don't know, but now that I know you, I want to know everything about you."

I frown, my eyes on our entangled hands. "Okay." My eyes move up to his face, and his smile couldn't be brighter. "I think I can work with that."

. . .

The food is wonderful, and the conversation even more so. It's as though we've known each other all our lives. Well, all our lives, if that means we know almost nothing of each other, that is. He's so passionate about his work, I get sucked into what he's talking about without having a clue what it is.

"So you like to build furniture?" I spear a piece of tomato left on the side of my plate and slide it between my lips, savoring its deliciousness. The food here is nearly orgasmic. Or maybe it's the company I'm keeping.

Edward's eyes follow each movement I make, and I feel so powerful in this moment. I've never had much influence on men. Well, not that I know of. So this is...nice.

"Yeah. Love it, actually," he answers, picking up a piece of melted cheese topped tortilla chip, popping it into his mouth, his thumb lingering there for a moment.

My voice gets lower, and I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. That chip looked so good. "Then why the renovating, if carpentry is more your style?" I'm blabbering away, hoping he'll keep going. My entire body is tingling, like when I get one of those whole body mini-orgasms when the hairdresser washes and massages my scalp and hair. Apparently, smarts and looks can get me off without even touching. Who knew?

"Jasper and I love working together. I enjoy what we do. It's just that the satisfaction I get when I finish a large job is different from what I get when I finish an armoire, for example. Carving beauty into wood is magical. Creating something out of nothing...it's bliss." Edward inhales, and my mouth drops. His passion and the way he describes working with wood makes me wonder about his wood. This is awkward.

"Ah, that explains how you got everything to match up with what we already had." I try to make my brain work and add to the conversation.

His wide grin says that it's working. My mind is keeping up and my mouth is moving. This is excellent. I'm not too far gone—yet.

"Well, Dr. Cullen had some specifics, and I promised I'd do my best." He shrugs, as if what he does is no big deal. Psh. Doesn't he know how many shoddy carpenters and contractors there are out there?

"It looks great. I can't even imagine how hard your job is." I take a tortilla from my plate and try to busy myself by dipping it in an ungodly amount of salsa and sour cream.

"It's not like I save lives, Bella." He smirks. "Unlike some people I know."

My cheeks burn and I know they must be a deep shade of pink. He's right, I suppose. "Well, yeah, but still, I can't even draw a stick figure, let alone make an armoire or build a house."

"We all have something we're good at." His response is so...him.

"I can't even argue with that." I smile and wipe the tortilla dust off my hands. "You're right."

He brings his finger to his mouth and licks the salsa off it, an action that mesmerizes me. I lick my own lips in response, and I swear I can taste whatever he's having.

We're quiet for a moment. It feels almost like time stops just for us. His eyes are on me, all dark gray and mischievous, and I can't look away. Trying to make myself stop thinking about his lips and how they felt on mine, makes me squirm in my seat.

"Bella, are you done with your food?" he asks in a deep tone, then clears his throat—apparently, his voice is as low as my panties desperately want to be.

I nod and take a stuttered breath. "Yes."

He signals to Emmett, who prances around tables, nodding at other patrons and grinning, as if he's won the lottery, eventually making it to our table.

"You rang?" His eyes are on Edward, then they shift to me momentarily for a not-so-sly wink.

"Can we have our bill, please?" Edward requests calmly. If he knows anything about Emmett, it's that the man loves to jabber on and on, which is a far cry from the quick exit we are desperate to make.

"Already? Man, you two are fast." He's showing so many teeth as he grins, it's almost creepy.

"We'd be faster if we could pay for our food and leave," Edward says, with a comedic tone to his voice.

"Already paid for." Emmett waves his hands around, and continues, "Now, don't you two do anything I wouldn't do."

"I somehow doubt that list is very long." I grab my purse and stand.

"Now, Bella, be good to him," Emmett advises pointedly, then turns to Edward. "Remember, Edward, a woman's pleasure always comes first."

I scrunch up my face and die a little inside. "Oh Jesus."

Emmett turns to me; his smile so wide, his eyes don't even look like they're open. "Not now."

Edward takes my hand in his and gently pulls me behind him. "We're leaving now, Em. Tell Rose I said hi."

"I'll do that." I hear Emmett say behind us. I know he's still laughing, but I'm more concerned with the speed of which Edward's legs are walking compared to my shorter limbs.

"Dude, slow down." I laugh, while doing my best to keep up.

Once we're out the door, Edward pulls me aside, and pins me against the wall next to the door, his body flush against mine. He holds my hand above my head while his other grasps my hip.

The darkness of his eyes and the way he's breathing, tells me he's a mess of hormones and want, and his erection lightly bobs against my belly, as if it's trying to introduce itself. His lips are all I can think of, and without words, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull his face to mine. His lips are on mine instantly, his tongue dancing around my mouth, as if it's searching to find all my secrets. It's erotic, and hands down the best kiss I've ever had. He groans and tightens his grip on my hip, while I try to pull him closer and rub myself against him somehow. Knowing I'm having this effect on him is a feeling I can't hold onto. It's addicting. I want more. Of him. Now.

"Get a room," a patron that comes out the door next to us says, breaking us out of our bubble. I can feel my entire body flush with embarrassment, but not a fuck is given because dang, that felt good.

"Wow." I grin and watch Edward discreetly adjust himself.

"I want to say I'm sorry about that, but I can't." He takes my hand in his and leads me away from the restaurant.

We walk to his truck, the heaviness of that heated make-out session still invading every living nerve ending in my body. My limbs feel like Jell-O, almost as if I could float off into some ooey-gooey cloud somewhere. Good thing he's holding my hand tight enough that it's getting sweaty. And I may be craving dessert.

"What else had you planned for this evening—just dancing?" I ask innocently. I know for a damn fact, none of it is ever going to happen. Not that kind of dancing, anyway. Not if I have my way. With him. And that damn dessert.

He opens the door to the truck and helps me get situated. The gleam in his eye is still there, so I know his answer ought to be good.

"Yes, I was planning to take you to this club downtown...but I think I need to...pick up something...at my house first." His eyes don't leave mine as the low timber of his voice tells me exactly what he's planning to get when we get to his house.

"Yes, your house...where you have to pick up...something. Sounds good." I smile and lean into him to kiss his cheek and whisper, "What are we waiting for?"

He pulls back, closes the door, and jogs around the front of the truck.

I watch silently, with a thrill going through my body, as he pulls the driver's side door open and takes his keys out of his pocket. "Have I told you how much I like the way you look in my truck?"

I'm beaming. He's so incredibly sweet, it hurts...between my legs. "If you keep talking, we won't make it to your house to pick up that...something."

He clears his throat and starts the car. "Yes, let's go get that...something."

"Man, that something better be worth it." I sigh, leaning into the seat as we drive off.

His eyes are on the road, but his mind clearly isn't. "I'll make sure of it. Repeatedly."

I die.

Repeatedly.

. . .

Edward's house is nothing like I pictured. I thought all guys lived like pigs until they met a woman, and she tamed the pig out of them. I don't know why this perception has always lingered in the back of my mind, though it may have been due to too much television when I was a kid.

Atlas greets us by the door and follows us around, rubbing herself against Edward's legs for attention. He bends down and picks her up, speaking lowly to her and scratching her neck. I love a man who loves animals. There are very few sexier things than seeing a man—especially one who looks like sin incarnate—be kind to his pet.

I look around while Edward feeds Atlas, and I can't help but notice the subtle details in his house. The kitchen is incredible; the cabinets and molding are clearly handmade. I would not have pictured this kind of decor. My mind wanders as I walk through the room. He said he had bought this house not long ago, but it's clear he's worked his ass off making it his own.

"Not what you expected?" He hands me a glass of wine and takes a sip of his own.

"Not at all. This is beautiful." I glance around the kitchen that leads off into an open space living room/dining room area. "It's so...clean," I blurt, inciting a laugh from him.

"Well, I do have to confess to having a cleaning lady." He shrugs.

"I don't blame you. I would probably have one too if I lived in a house this big." The front part of the house, which you see from the street, doesn't do it justice.

"Well, at my age, I didn't want to move again, so I bought this and figured there was room enough for two or three or five more people." Five? That means he wants... Whoa, I need to slow down my thoughts—or maybe they're fantasies. He leads me into a large recreation room of some kind, which holds pool and poker tables along with a decently equipped looking bar and huge television. "But until then, this is my biggest secret."

"Poker night with the boys, huh?" I picture a scene from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, and giggle at the thought of bringing anything pink in here. This is so obviously his man-cave.

He pulls me against him and kisses me until I'm a breathy mess. Then, making a trail of kisses that tickle up to my ear, he whispers, "Not just the boys."

I grin mischievously. "We don't need to play strip poker for you to get me naked."

"Bella," he growls playfully. "You're going to be the death of me."

With his hands on my hips, he guides me backwards, until the back of my thighs hit the pool table. "Well, this is new." I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

"I've been thinking about having you here for a while." He guides himself between my parted thighs, and I can feel him hard and heavy against me.

I close my eyes and breathe for a moment. This is happening. I am going to have sex with Edward. On a pool table. Right the fuck now.

I grin and open my eyes. A glint of mischief, that's matching mine, is plastered all over Edward's face. "Here...as in on this table?" I tease.

He slides his hand under my shirt and along my lower back, making me shiver. "Right here."

His lips are on mine, in what feels like a frenzied couple of minutes. He carefully slides his palms up my back and slowly removes my shirt. He backs up for a bit and pulls his own shirt over his head. When his face is again near mine, he says, "If you're going to be naked, so am I."

I let my eyes roam over his body. Those broad shoulders and tattoos have made some pretty surprising appearances in my dreams, but they were nothing like seeing them up close again.

I grin, licking my bottom lip in anticipation. "Well, then, let me help."

Wordlessly, I let my skirt pool at my feet, and then I'm standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and panties.

The glint in his eye is playful, and I know I'm in it to win. This game of cat and mouse is about to get handsy.

He unbuckles his belt and lets his pants fall to the floor. My eyes travel down, down, down his chest until I see the bulge straining against his underwear. "That looks painful."

He laughs, the motion making the bulge bob a little, and I giggle.

"Laughing at a half-naked man isn't very promising, Bella," he teases, but his excitement is shown when he blows out a shaky breath.

I grin and let my hands travel over his chest and across his shoulders, the feel of his warm skin under my palms making me relax and enjoy this moment. "That was a nervous laugh. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?" My eyes roam the bare skin, and I make a mental note to ask about the ink later.

He caresses the skin at my sides, then slides his hands down my back until he reaches my butt and gives two handfuls a firm squeeze. "I could ask the same to you." His mouth crashes into mine, and again, I find myself with his harder than steel bulge pressed against my pussy.

I rotate my hips, seeking more friction and moan into his mouth.

He pulls away from kissing me and grins. "We could always take this upstairs to my room." He sounds sincere enough, though when I look around, the thought of marking this room with us sends an unintended shiver down my spine. I want him to remember every moment of our first time together. I want him to walk into this room and think of us each time he eyes the pool table. Whether or not this thing between us lasts more than a night, I want him to remember me. I know it's a little creepy—or a lot—but I also want to be reminded of this time with him, if I ever come here again.

And when I say come, I mean it in every sense of the word. Pun intended and all.

I slide my palms down his body and run my fingers around the elastic waistband of his underwear, teasing the head of his dick that seems to be desperately seeking contact.

I smirk and look up. His eyes are down and he's watching my hands, his forehead creased in a frown, and his bottom lip wedged between his teeth.

"I've wanted to touch you for a while," I confess. The muscles in his arms strain as he holds himself back from jerking his hips forward for more friction. I watch his hands at his sides curl into fists and release as he battles with his self-control. I want him to lose. I want to feel every ounce of what he can do to me.

"You shouldn't have said that." His hands are in my hair in a split second and his lips are devouring mine, our tongues tangling and sliding against one another.

Seems my plan has worked.

He's rough as he pulls me and lifts me so that I'm sitting on the edge of the table. His hands make quick work of removing my panties, his fingers teasing, but not giving in. He's torturing me in the best way.

"I'm going to make you come on my face, then my cock," he promises between kisses, going down my neck and clavicle.

I moan; my entire being on fire as he removes my bra and flicks it somewhere behind me. I could have an audience watching us right now and not care one bit. He's working my body as if I were one of his tools. I can't help the noises that come out of my mouth.

I watch, mesmerized, as he kisses the top of my breast then takes as much of it in his mouth as he can, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his eyes not leaving mine. The scene is fucking hot, and I want to squeeze my thighs together, but I can't because he's holding me spread out before him, his large palms splayed over my inner thighs.

I think I say words, but I'm not sure, because his face makes its way down my belly and across my hips. I run a hand through his mess of hair when his mouth hits the holy land. I suck in my lips and bite the bottom one to keep from being too loud. His lips are like magic, and his tongue is glorious, licking and flicking in all the right places.

I don't think twice as I spread myself even wider and lean back as I lift my hips off the table to give him greater access. I close my eyes, unable to keep them open as I climb higher and higher in ecstasy.

When I come, falling over the edge of bliss and hear him moan against me, it's a double whammy of lust and way too much sensation—until I come again, his fingers at my entrance, massaging their way inside.

I don't even know my name at this point, but I can taste myself on him when he comes back up to kiss me.

I open my eyes and smile. Or at least I think I smile. I can't even feel my face, all the nerves in my body like jelly.

"I take it that was good." A smirk gracing that mouth of his says he knows the answer, though his eyes are so deep and dark, making him look like he could devour me all over again. He slips his boxers off, then reaches down for his pants and takes out a condom from his pocket.

"You expected this?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I was a Boy Scout, Bella. Always come prepared." He rips the packaging and I watch, fascinated, as he rolls the condom down his length. For the first time, I see all of him and holy Christ on a cracker, the view is spectacular.

I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from making some stupid pun, but add, "Yes, well, that's good."

He guides my hips to the edge of the table, and his eyes search mine for a brief instant before he's at my entrance, and I'm bringing my hips forward until we're both where we need to be. I inhale sharply as I adjust to him. He's not huge, but not small at all, either. He feels so good—just right as I rock my hips slowly in time with his.

He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight as we move together. His kisses are intense, deep, as if he's not close enough.

What I thought would be fucking feels like way more. Love is a strong word, but this must be what it can feel like.

I give myself over to him, inhaling and exhaling his breath. I'm close, and I have a feeling he won't let himself come until I do. I can't tell him I've never come while having sex; that the only way I'll come is if he's playing with my clit. Though the way his hips rock against me, it's so good I'm caught by surprise when I come so hard and moan so loud, I'm almost embarrassed. Almost.

That orgasm lasts for what feels like minutes, then with a few sharp thrusts, he groans and kisses me hard, simultaneously pulling me flush to his chest.

He wraps me in his arms again, as if he's hugging me, and leans a sweaty forehead against mine. His eyelashes rest against his cheeks, and I smile in adoration. He's cute and charming...and a fantastic lover. I'm not even sure how to quantify this whole thing. Like, how I could even think of us not having a future or not coming in this room ever again. Hormones are a bitch if they make me fall in love with a man because he made me come. Well, in his defense, it was three times, but I digress.

"Holy hell," I breathe, the realization crashing over me.

His lids flutter open, the crease in the corners deepening as he grins wide. "I knew we'd be perfect together."

I put my arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. He pulls away, and I feel him fidgeting between us as he pulls off the condom.

He backs up, leaving a kiss to the corner of my mouth before I watch him walk away, his ass cheeks even more perfect than I ever thought possible.

"Nice ass," I tell him, hopping off the pool table. That's when I look around us and realize our clothes are spread out everywhere. I've got a shirt sprawled out on the back of a recliner and my panties are hanging off the corner of a picture frame on the wall. I pick them up and start laughing when I see who's in the picture. "So my boss just watched us having sex."

He wraps his arms around me from behind, and leans his chin on top of my head. "Yeah, that was a few years ago. Emmett took that picture."

I look carefully at the people on there and see many familiar faces looking back. "I'm surprised we didn't meet any sooner."

"I'm happy we're here now." He kisses the back of my neck, and I turn around to face him.

"I am, too." I try—but probably fail miserably—to look sexy while putting my panties back on.

His boxers are already on and he's reaching for his shirt, which had landed on a ficus tree at the other end of the room. "And to think, you didn't even want to come see the 'hottie construction workers,'" he teases.

I laugh, having already gotten my bra from the edge of the aquarium that serves as sort of a room divider. Another few inches and it would have smelled of goldfish and bad decisions.

"Glitter," I say out loud, then put a hand over my mouth.

Edward turns to me, his eyes roaming all over my body. He walks, or more like stalks, his way to me, and I back up until I'm once again leaning against the pool table.

"Glitter, Bella? Please explain." He crosses his arms over his broad chest, a smirk permanently in place on his lips.

"The sun...with the sawdust…" I lick my lips and smile, an attempt to appear coy not quite working for me.

He pins me down, his palms coming to rest on either side of my hips. "I heard that, too," he whispers, his lips close to my ear.

Thoughts of the future and of us being a forever thing cross my mind. He's heard everything and still wants to be with me. He'd seen me do and heard me say things that weren't the sexiest, and he still wanted to date me.

Obviously, I'm what he wants as much as he's what I want. He's not some player as I had originally pinned him to be. He's sweet and caring and everything I want rolled into the sexiest, manliest package.

Speaking of packages, I lay a sloppy kiss to his cheek, and grin as I pull the band of his boxers forward and take a quick peek down. "I had to check something out for myself."

"And what was that?" He's got a deadly eyebrow raised in the most enticing way. I may not make it to my skirt, that's still crumpled up in a pile by the poker table.

I point to his crotch and gently release the waistband. "Had to make sure it didn't sparkle." I shrug, as if it's totally normal to think he had a penis full of glitter.

It takes a second, and I'm up on his shoulder, giggling uncontrollably as he drags me up to his bedroom to give me round two.

. . .

THE END...probably.