A/N: Well hello folks! I'm glad you're enjoying this story...and I'm having a ball bringing it to you (must be the inner bitch in me hehe). Things are going to take a different turn now as we get to know Edward and peel him back like an onion! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own Twilight...but I wish I could have been at the Eclipse premiere! I just loved Rob in that red suit! Humana humana!

CHAPTER 3 - MAN WITH A PAST

BPOV

I left Emmett in the hands of bitch number two to arrange for his equipment and headed home, excited but at the same time disturbed by the day's turn of events. I had an apartment that was pretty run down, but close to the city, it's bohemian style kind of suiting me. I was not your average person after all, and the odd space with brick walls on one side with angular windows which lead to the fire escape on the other was unique...just like me. I loved the fire escape. It was a place where I sat and contemplated, hashing out ideas and the meaning of life while I stared at the activity below. Many a story idea had popped into my head on that escape as a smoked and watched the world go by.

As I inhaled, smoke billowing from my mouth and out into the afternoon air, I thought about my meeting with Rosalie. Whoever had fallen for her definitely had their work cut out for them. Oh well, as long as she was less bitchy and this guy kept her happy, I was all for it. I got the feeling this mystery man saved my ass today, which was looking as if it was gonna be placed in a gigantic sling. I wondered how I could use that bit of knowledge to my advantage, my curiosity about this mystery man burning within me. I just couldn't understand how anyone could be attracted to that woman, at least not without a hidden agenda. Guess it was the cynical in me. "Thanks, whoever you are," I muttered to myself as I stubbed out my cigarette and headed inside. I'd just have to put a few feelers out, and maybe get Em to do a little digging.

I spent the afternoon researching Alice Brandon, her blog not really revealing much more about her than I already knew, or providing me with anything salacious that I could use to spice up the article. She had a brother, and both her parents were dead, and she graduated from Harvard with a degree in Linguistics two years ago. There were no pictures of her family either. What a bland woman. Why on earth would Rosalie want me to profile this particular author? Her life appeared so...vanilla! It would seem I would have to do more digging on her...as I wasn't in the habit of fabricating information in my articles. After all, lawsuits against me were a very real possibility, especially with the way I wrote about people. Besides, I didn't want to be accused of writing a piece of shit by the queen of bitches again. I kind of needed my job.

I showered and got changed into my favourite pair of boxers and ripped white t-shirt, the only things I still had left of Jake. Pathetic as it was, I was comforted by such things. They served as a reminder of my shallow nature.

I made a meal of pasta with tomato sauce and cheese, ate quietly as I sat on my favourite fire stairs and breathed in the cool night air. God, my life was pathetic, I realised. I had a good job, but my friends had turned their backs on me, leaving me to pick up the pieces of my breakup with Jake on my own. As much as I loved Em, sometimes I just wanted a girl to talk to. Emmett was as close to a girl as was possible without actually possessing a vagina, but he didn't quite have the shoulder that I needed to cry on. He was fun, but lacked the sympathy that I sometimes craved. He liked me for the strong person that I was, not the sniveling idiot that I knew lurked just beneath the surface. Losing everything was one of the reasons my heart had hardened so much.

As I walked inside and went to my bedroom to get ready for bed, my Blackberry buzzed as it sat recharging on the bedside table. As I reached over and picked up the phone, I felt a smile curve the corners of my mouth as I read the text from Emmett.

You in bed masturbating to the book yet? -Em

I snorted in response to Emmett's message and wrote a quick reply.

Sure, just had my fifth orgasm with it. You want a loan of it after I'm done? -B

While I waited for his response, I glanced toward the book which sat next to the lamp and stared at her picture again. "Vanilla," I muttered, shaking my head.

Nah, not enough man on man action for my taste. Now get to bed young lady! I'm taking you out for breakfast tomorrow. See you in the morning. E-man xx.

Nite Em. xx

I rolled into bed, switched on the lamp, and decided to start reading the novel. It only took a few pages in for the book to become racy, the story essentially about a handsome doctor that worked on a cruise ship who met a woman that had come to him with a case of sea sickness. The description of him was tall, tanned and muscular with long dark hair and ice blue eyes, as well as a permanent two day growth. Of course, the female was voluptuous and blonde, and loaded, and had a secret. She was married, and fraternization between staff and passengers was forbidden, let alone an affair with a married woman.

"This is so predictable," I whispered to myself as I settled myself into bed and read further.

No sooner had I started than the book began to draw me in, the titillating sexual tension between the hero and his patient making me want to read until they actually did the deed. The night wore on as I read, and I realised I was actually turned on by the twists and turns of the story, as predictable as they were. I became so engrossed that I failed to notice that the sun was rising. I had spent the entire night reading the story, and finally, I got to the scene I was waiting for and my legs opened of their own accord.

He saw her standing on the deck, staring out at the ocean, his eyes grazing her body as moon shone silver on her skin, making her appear almost angelic. He was running out of time. He had to have her, there was not a doubt in his mind, and he had to have her now. He did not care that it could cost him his job, his livelihood. He had no concern for his future endeavours.

"Marlena," he said, his voice filled with adoration.

"Chase," she murmured, as she turned to meet him, their eyes locking as they readied themselves to face the inevitable.

"Come with me," he commanded, as he picked her up in his arms spirited her to his room. He unlocked the door and kicked it open, carrying her across the small threshold and throwing her on his bed.

She laid herself on the bed in submission and as he crawled up onto the bed to meet her, their lips suddenly locked in a passionate kiss. His tongue entered her mouth with force, as he slowly began the delicious task of claiming her as his own.

"Take me, Chase," she whispered through panting lips as he rained kisses upon her jaw, working his way across to her earlobe.

"Yes, my love," he acquiesced, as he slowly began to unbutton her shirt, his mouth covering every newly exposed part of her creamy skin.

I moaned as I reached down and began to stroke the thin material outside my boxers. I read on, the scene not so pornographic, but with the build-up accompanied by the rest of the chapters, it turned me on anyway. "Mmmm," I moaned, as I closed my eyes briefly and slipped my fingers underneath my shorts, finding my wet heated lips as I bucked into my hand, opening my eyes once more so that I could continue to read.

He opened her shirt slowly her heaving breasts calling to him from underneath the black lace bra. Unable to wait any longer, he pulled her shirt off, at the same time sliding her bra straps off her shoulders, exposing them to him, her pert nipples red and flush with desire as he took them into his soft eager mouth.

"Oh," she cried as he imbibed her skin, his hardened body pressing into her secret core. She shivered under his ministrations, her head lolling backward and off the end of the bed as he licked and sucked at her pebbled, elongated nipples. Without hesitation, her legs wrapped around his waist, her core calling to him, begging him to enter. He reached down and slid up her skirt, his fingers brushing against her heated core, the longing within her maddening as his long fingers slipped into the warmest place on earth...

I closed my eyes once more as I focused on my fingers and the way I stroked my skin, pushing two fingers inside myself as I imagined someone's mouth on me, sucking and tonguing my wet folds. I threw the book off the bed, my other hand snaking downward and aiding my quest for orgasm, my fingers stroking my hardened, wet clit. "Ungh!" I gasped as my fingers pumped quickly in and out, while my other hand whirred in quickly circular motions over my clit, then traced down my inner lips. My mouth opened and I was gasping for air, the air whooshing in and out of my lungs as I imagined the good doctor giving me an oral examination, his tongue flicking over my clit until he took me in his mouth and sucked hard, while his fingers entered me and found my g-spot.

"Yes!" I screamed as I came, and at the same time there was a thudding knock on the door.

"Open up Bellacakes!" Emmett hollered.

I gasped in surprise, removing my hands from my boxers and my eyes immediately darted toward the clock radio. It was eight in the morning. Without realising it I had spent nearly the entire night reading the book, and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep...

EPOV

"Alice?" I screamed, sweat pouring off my brow. "Where are you?"

"Alice!"

The door swung open with brute force and she was by my side in an instant. My breaths came fast and hard, sweat pouring off me everywhere.

"Edward, honey it's alright. You just had a bad dream..." she said as she took me in her arms and held my frail body to her. "Shhh," she said as I sobbed into her hair, her cool hands stroking the back of my bare neck.

"I can't get the images out of my head, Alice. I'm so sick of these nightmares," I complained through uneven breaths.

"You're here, and you're safe," she assured me as she squeezed me tighter.

"I just wish that things were different, Alice," I said in desperation as I tried to get a handle on my breathing.

"I know, Edward. But you're on the road to recovery now. No more chemo, no more sickness."

She thought I was talking about my illness, and though it had something to do with how I felt now, it wasn't what I was thinking about. The month prior, I had finished my treatment for Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and all tests indicated that I was in the clear and on the road to recovery. In my heart, however, I knew that I was a shell of a man, unrecognizable in every sense of the word. The last year had changed me so profoundly that I didn't know myself anymore.

I sighed heavily as my sister held me in her arms, rocking me soothingly as the beads of sweat mixed with my tears and ran down my face. I inhaled sharply and held my breath, trying to calm my heartbeat and even out the panic that always accompanied the familiar nightmare.

Alice was so wonderful, my beacon in a stormy ocean...and after our parents died in a car accident last year my sister was the only family I had left. The pain tore through me as I thought of the last moments of their life, and how it was my fault, my body tensing as I did.

"Now you stop that, Edward," she chastised knowingly, as if she could read my mind. She knew me so well...better than anyone ever had.

"You had better stop taking the blame for everything, or I'm going to put you in my next novel, Edward Cullen!" she threatened, as she let out a nervous laugh. She had a way about her, my sister. She was always so upbeat, so chirpy. I on the other hand had earned the nickname 'Sullen Cullen' in my last year of college, when things in my life began to fall apart for me.

I left Dartmouth Medical School having never completed my degree and returned home to Seattle after agreeing to allow my family to care for me. Once I returned home, I got a job as a cataloguer at the Mercer Library part time. I had no interest in doing anything else, the quiet isolation of working in among the stacks of reference books and away from civilization suiting me just fine. I relished the isolation, my illness and courses of treatment taking me in and out of hospital, and my employer allowed me time off to recover from my treatments as the need arose.

I smiled a little through my tears and withdrew from her embrace. "Oh yes, Alice. I can just see how writing a story about a pale, puffy guy with bald patches would be a number one best seller," I said sarcastically as I wiped my sweaty, tear stained face with the palms of my hands. "I can just see the women swooning now, and the movie will be the biggest hit! Perhaps you should get the Pillsbury Dough Boy to play the lead."

"Edward Cullen, you stop that now! Your hair's already growing back and you're getting better every day," she reminded. "Even the dreams are not as frequent."

"Yeh, whatever," I grumbled, turning my face away from her. As much as my body had begun to heal, other wounds were still festering within, ones that were going to be a little bit harder to fix.

She took my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. "You know, Edward. You just don't see yourself very clearly do you?" she asked, as she tilted her head and studied my face, her serious expression suddenly giving way to a beaming smile, one which always cheered me up.

I rolled my eyes and smiled at her in return, unable to stop her happy aura from taking me in. "Yeh well maybe I need a fucking Seeing Eye dog," I replied, my statement causing her to giggle.

"Yep, maybe you do. Or maybe you need a fresh outlook on things. You're over your illness now, so maybe you need to stop using it as a way of hiding away from the world."

"Ah, the romance novelist who thinks she can cut it as a life coach. Hey, I've got an idea...why don't you get a part time gig as an agony aunt with that publishing house of yours?" I suggested sarcastically as my breathing finally evened out, and I deflected my pain with the use of humour.

"With all the experience I've had with dealing with your problems, I'd do that job blindfolded," she retorted. "Now stop trying to distract me. It's time to get up, Edward. I brought eggs," she said as she bounced on the bed impatiently.

"I will," I said, my weakened body craving more sleep in favour of food as I attempted to lie back down.

"Time to get up...now!" she ordered, as she stood to her feet and dragged the bedclothes off me, the shock of the cool air on my sweaty skin giving me goose bumps.

"Hey!" I protested, pulling the blankets back as we played our usual game of tug-of-war with them.

She let go of the mass of tangled sheets and blankets, rolled her eyes and said, "Well then get your lazy ass up and take a shower before I get out the garden hose!" She never coddled me, and one thing I loved about her was that throughout my entire ordeal, she never once cut me a break.

I groaned once more in protest as I swung my tired legs over the bed and scratched the back of my head, the fine wisps of hair clumping over my sweat soaked skin. I had spent the entire weekend in bed wallowing a little, and she was not going to stop irritating me until I emerged.

"Come on!" she said, as she grabbed my free hand and pulled me up off the bed.

"Fine!" I huffed, as I stood shakily to my feet and stalked towards the bathroom, watching as Alice bounded out of my room, her energy unbridled.

I looked at my pale reflection in the mirror as I shaved, and my green eyes, though clear, looked strange against my pasty skin. My face was puffy and I looked unwell, my body protesting against the poisoning that had started over three months before. I was on the mend, I realised, as I noticed more of my hair had begun to grow back. I was probably considered handsome, once...but that was a long time ago.

Showered and dressed in a fresh set of pajamas, I headed down the hall. The smell of bacon hit my nostrils, and though I loved it, my stomach was still trying to get used to the concept of actually eating food and holding it down.

"Here," Alice said as she flitted out of the kitchen with two plates of breakfast, deftly placing the plates of eggs and bacon on the dining room table as she sat down.

I sat down quietly before Alice glanced up at me, her eyes disapproving as she noticed what I was wearing. "You planning on spending the whole day in bed again, or are you making some sort of weird fashion statement?" she accused.

"Well..." I answered, my voice trailing off as I shrugged my shoulders. "I do have the rest of the week off, so why bother getting dressed?" I conceded.

"You bother, because that's what every human being does. You get out of bed, you take a shower, you brush your teeth and you have breakfast. For God's sake Edward, you go out into society and function!" she growled.

"What's up your nose, princess?" I asked, her mood suddenly so unlike her.

"Nothing, Edward. It's just that the sooner you're okay, the sooner I can get on with my life," she retorted. I exhaled loudly in response, and then got a little angry.

"Look, Alice. I promised I'd be at the library for your meeting on Saturday to lock up, but until then I plan to continue wallowing...just for one more week. Besides, I fail to see how my life choices have anything to do with the fact that you've turned down as many dates as I've had changes in underwear. And you accuse me of hiding behind my illness. Ever thought that you're doing the same thing?"

"I had to care for you..." she whispered.

"And I'm grateful for everything you've done, Alice, believe me. But I'm getting better, and yet you still feel you need to be here to care for me. Don't you think it's time you started to enjoy your career, finish the one you're writing now and maybe have a hot date or two?"

"Fine Edward!" she snapped, seemingly unable to find a rebuttal to my very valid point.

"At least get the bike fixed soon. You'll need it in working order to get around," she added, changing the subject.

"Alright, Alice. Just stop with the nagging, already," I moaned as I picked up a piece of bacon and shoved the whole thing in my mouth, my cheeks bulging as I chewed.

"Gross!" she complained, wrinkling her face at me in disgust, causing me to grin evilly at her as I shoved another piece of bacon into my already full mouth.

After breakfast, Alice buzzed around the kitchen of my modern and apartment, dusting and tidying as she went while I cleared the table and did the breakfast dishes. She had bought the place for me after her book did amazingly well, pushing me out of the nest when I was well enough to be on my own. Up until then, I had lived with her and her cat Tiddles in her loft, her image as a romance novelist nothing like the real Alice Cullen. It always amazed me that she could write the stories she did, when her life experiences thus far were anything but romantic.

Of course, she'd kept our mother's maiden name for her pen name, giving her and the family a kind of anonymity. No-one ever realised that I was related to a famous writer, and when her first novel became such a success, my life went on as if nothing had changed. That was a long time ago, however. Our parents were so proud of her achievement, but that was nothing compared to how proud I was of her. Of course, I was the black sheep of the family, my rebellious nature getting me in quite a bit of trouble in my teen years. The death of my parents, who were on their way to the hospital after I'd taken a considerably bad turn, knocked the bad boy out of me in one split second of time. Like I said, I was a changed man...

A/N: So? Tell me what you're thinkin'