A/N: HEY, GUYS! I KNOW YESTERDAY'S CHAPTER WAS SHORT...I'VE BEEN SICK...AND I DROPPED A VACUUM ON MY FOOT WHILE I WAS CLEANING MY HUBBY'S DEER HEAD MOUNT...AND SOMEONE SHOT MY REDBONE COONHOUND. DAMNIT, I'M REALLY SOUNDING LIKE A REDNECK NOW, BUT I SWEAR IT'S ALL TRUE! THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO THE REVIEWER WHO SHAMELESSLY BRIBED ME WITH HER REVIEW! I GUESS IT WORKED!

STEPHENIE MEYER OWNS ALL THINGS TWILIGHT. I OWN A REMODELED HOUSE ORIGINALLY BUILD IN THE 20'S, 10 ACRES OF FERTILE MISSISSIPPI SOIL, AND A GREEN FIELD WHERE THE GHOST OF A DEAD MAN STILL LINGERS...NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED.

CHAPTER 6: WHISKEY FINGERS

Filled with a renewed sense of purpose, I practically skipped into McMillan's, grinning at Tia and Carmen who exchanged worried glances with one another. Shrugging, I passed the bar and clocked my card, adamantly ignoring Patrick's closed office door, trying not to let my mind wonder about who could be behind that office door. Joining Tia and Carmen, I was slightly surprised to still see the daytime bartenders lounging around the bar, now clocked out and drinking. Normally they would be gathering their belongings ready to leave, tired of hanging around the bar all day long.

"Hey, what happened last night?" Carmen asked, eyebrows scrunched and her bottom lip sticking out. Tia was by her side watching me critically.

"Uh I think it was just nerves with the 'selling the bar' thing plus I was in a rush and didn't eat supper last night," I explained with a shrug. "But I'm fine now." Hey, it wasn't exactly a lie...I just chose to leave Edward out of the scenario. There was no need for Tia and Carmen to find out I fainted over a man. They'd never let me hear the end of it.

"Well, I hope you ate today," Carmen said, her slender face twisting into a smirk. "I was beginning to think you just did it so that Mr. Cullen could catch you in his arms."

"No, that's something you would do, you butt-slut!" Tia scolded Carmen as she mixed a drink for a customer. My face began to feel warm, and I knew a blush was covering my cheeks.

"Oh, Mr. Cullen!" Carmen cried, pretending to swoon, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead, her eyelids fluttering. "Please save me Mr. Cullen!" she sang in a fake, southern accident, in a failed attempted to disguise her northern one. She swayed on her feet for a moment before falling against the bar in a fit of giggles.

"I do not sound like that!" I hissed, swatting Carmen with a hand towel, catching Jessica Stanley staring at us from where she perched at the bar.

Jessica was one of the daytime bartenders that we relieved at night. She had the front of her long over-processed blonde hair pulled back in a big pink barrette that clashed horribly with the required clover-green shirt that she wore and her face was coated in thick, bold makeup. She was sucking a mixed drink through a straw, in an attempt to appear seductive for any men in the vicinity. Tia was glowering at her...

"Hey, why are they still here?" I whispered to T, nodding my head towards Jessica and the other two bartenders, Lauren and Tyler. Lauren was flipping her long, corn silk hair over one shoulder and practically fondling Tyler who looked particularly disinterested as he scrolled through his cell phone.

"Patrick told them to stay behind...he's got an announcement to make. He's probably going to say 'Oh...uh...hey...ummm...' for like five minutes and then fire us all," Tia replied, shrugging.

"I wish he would hurry up," Jessica pouted, batting her long fake eyelashes. "I've got a date tonight and I don't want to keep him waiting," she giggled.

"Of course you don't, sweetie. Now stop sucking on that straw like that or you'll be all wore out tonight. That guy'll dump you on your ass if your mouth ain't working," Tia cooed sarcastically, causing Jessica to immediately withdraw her mouth from the straw, staring at it worriedly.

Carmen and I tried, unsuccessfully, to cover our giggles. It was no secret that Tia despised Jessica and her slutty ways. Laurent swore up and down that she'd even hit on him one time, even physically throwing herself at him in an awkward attempt to rub her big fake boobs on him. How that girl didn't realize he was gay was beyond me.

The unmistakable sound of Patrick clearing his throat broke me from my reverie, and I turned to watch him approach. His face was in its usual state of worry and unease. His curly hair frizzed out all around his head as he stood nervously by the bar, his hands full of paperwork. The pocket on his shirt held about ten ink pens and one had obviously not been recapped as a large, black stain had formed below the pocket. Patrick quietly inquired of my health and I responded, with a red face as Jessica Stanley stared at me, that I felt much better. He nodded and then turned to my coworkers.

"Uh...ugh...hum..okay guys, I..uh..called you all here for a short meeting," he began, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other as his eyes briefly shifted to all of us. "I'm sure you've all heard that my father's health continues to deteriorate and my parents feel it is in the best interest of our family to sell the bar. We've been shopping around for a buyer...and found one. The bar will soon belong to Mr. Edward Cullen...I know some of you are worried that your employment at McMillan's could be terminated, however, Mr. Cullen voiced to me that this is not his intention. He has assured me that he will put forth all his effort into sustaining as many of the current employees as possible. I'm sure you are all wondering what his plans are for the bar, and all I can say is that I honesty do not know. Mr. Cullen plans to come in tonight to watch the staff work...he has vast experience in the bar business and feels as though monitoring your work performance will help him accurately assess why the bar is failing..."

Tia suddenly interrupted him, one hand in the air, an angry scowl upon her face. "Hold up! Our work performance has nothing to do with why this bar is failing! This bar is failing because we have no money to buy the liquor we need...or cleaning supplies! This place is dirty and disgusting but it has nothing to do with our work performance!"

Patrick opened his mouth to respond, but this time it was Carmen interrupting him. "Patrick, no offense, but Tia is right. We understand that Mr. McMillan is sick and you guys are spending all that you can to get him the proper care that he needs, but a business needs money to bring in money...it has nothing to do with us!" She finished her rant with her hands on her hips and a pout on her narrow face.

"Plus you pull Bella from the bar to unclog toilets when they're stopped up, you make her wait tables when we're short on help and that leaves the bar short. Hell, I'm surprised you don't have her scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush," Tia spoke in an angry voice. Patrick opened his mouth, yet again to speak, but was once more interrupted by T, who looked ready to explode. "Plus you've got these...skanks...working during the day who couldn't mix a proper drink to save their life! I gotta wonder who the hell they slept with to get their bartending license!"

Lauren looked thoroughly offended while Jessica looked slightly thoughtful, staring into space, twirling a strand of long, blonde hair around one finger and sucking on her straw yet again. Tyler tried to cover his grin by placing his drink to his lips, but it was still there.

"Um, yeah, uh, I'm can't deny that I don't know how to run a bar," Patrick admitted, running his hands through his curls. "I take full responsibility for what has happened here and I'm truly sorry that we're in this situation. This is hard for me too, guys. This bar has been in my family for years..." Patrick's eyes became misty and I reached out, patting his arm sympathetically. He sniffed a couple of times before quietly excusing himself.

The normally playful, happy mood in the bar had shifted into one with a sad, somber undertone. Jessica, Tyler, Lauren and the rest of the daytime employees left, Lauren shooting one last glare at Tia. Tia smiled sweetly, flipping her off, causing Lauren's eyes to narrow in hateful little slits, the gold glitter eyeshadow she wore glaring harshly under the bar lights. She shoved the doors open with all her force, and then disappeared into the throng of people partying along Beale. We all worked together silently filling drink and food orders, each of us lost in our own thoughts of what the future held...a future in the hands of Edward Cullen.

The hands of the old wooden clock hanging above the doors creeped impossibly slow as the bar began filling with customers. My throat began to get that familiar tightness I felt when I was nervous about something...and after what happened last night I was extremely nervous to see Edward Cullen again. This man caused me question everything that I thought I knew about myself. He'd been rude to me and I'd been rude back...but he wasn't just some asshole that pissed me off. He was my soon-to-be new boss, and to say I worried about over possibly finding myself unemployed was an understatement.

Tia and Carmen continued to quietly work, worry clear on their faces as well. I guess we all had our reasons to worry. Carmen's sister was a recovering heroin addict, and what little money she had left after bills she spent on her sister, who went in and out of rehab often. Tia's mother sustained injuries while working in a furniture factory, leaving her disabled and dependent on Tia, with whom she had moved in with after withstanding multiple back surgeries. The disability check that she drew was practically non-existant and Tia's money went to doctor bills and paying for her mother's prescription medication.

Waylon and Diego eventually arrived at the bar, plopping down on the stools in front of us, cheeky grins spread across their faces. Diego reeked of cheap cologne and Waylon, as usual, wore his camouflage jacket even though it was still relatively warm outside. Waylon didn't seem as drunk as he typically was when he normally arrived at the bar and this secretly pleased me a great deal.

"What is up with the...what is the word," Diego mused in his thick, Spanish accent as he thoughtfully rubbed his small mustache. "Ah! The ambiance! That is the word! The ambiance in this bar, it is all wrong!"

Tia and Carmen shrugged sourly at his inquiry, but a small smile crept across my face as an idea flickered in my mind. As surreptitiously as possible, I eased over to the player dock and plugged up my phone just as the last song ended. I knew precisely what to do to improve the mood in this place and get our minds off Edward Cullen. Scrolling down, I chose the exact song I wanted, a sneaky giggle escaping my mouth as I returned to my station. Diego stared at me curiously as I shot him an evil wink.

"Well, it was all that I could do to keep from crying," the speakers crooned.

"Fuck my life," Tia muttered, turning to me with a murderous scowl. Carmen began giggling and I grinned sweetly at Tia.

"Sometimes it seems so useless to remain, but you don't have to call me darlin', darlin', you neverrrrr even called me by myyyy nammmmme," Carmen crooned, clasping her hands together and swaying back and forth. She reached over and slung one arm over my shoulders and I did the same as we continued to sing the ridiculous country song. Waylon and Diego roared with laughter as Tia glared angrily at us.

"I swear to all that is holy I will cut your throats if you don't cut that shit off right now!" she fumed, grabbing a bottle of Jack from the shelf, her angry eyes never leaving ours. We simply giggled in response.

"Come on, T! I know for a fact that you know the words! Sing it with us T!" Carmen pleaded grabbing the sleeve of her shirt. Tia quickly shrugged her away.

"Of course I know the damn words. Bella only plays this shit every day!"

"I do not!" I argued, with a smirk. "Only when it's my playlist day."

"My blackness will not allow me to sing this song. Waylon, if I get a gun will you please just shoot me now?" she asked seriously, leaning across the bar, staring into his eyes. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and Diego burst into laughter, swaying drunkenly on the bar stool.

"Shut up!" Carmen hissed. "This is my favorite part!" By this point everyone in the bar was cheering us on, chanting for us to sing. Carmen dragged me around the bar as I protested, pulling out a chair from an empty table and jumped on the chair, her petite frame wobbling slightly as she straightened herself.

"Well I was drunk the day my ma got out of prison. And I went to pick her up in the rainnnnnn. But beforrree I could get to the station in the pickupppppp truck, she got ranned over by a damnnnned old trainnnnnnnnn!" she sang, swaying back and forth on the unsteady chair. The bar erupted in shouts and laughter as she tittered slightly and fell from the chair, landing in my waiting arms.

Unfortunately, the force of the fall caused us both to land in a giggling heap on the floor as the customers continued to sing the chorus, laughing and shouting. And then, suddenly, the music abruptly cut off, everyone in the bar still singing for a moment until their voices awkwardly dwindled away. Carmen and I stood up, brushing our clothes off, confused by the ending of our impromptu concert...that is, until I looked up at the player dock. Because standing there with a fatal scowl, stood none other than Edward Cullen.

He stood with one hand still lingering on the player dock, his expression dark and his copper hair a disorderly sexy mess. The soft, gray shirt he wore clung to his body, his muscles rippling beneath as he lowered his arm from the dock. The dark jeans that graced his perfect legs were slung low on his hips, and it took every ounce of strength in my body to will my eyes not to linger there.

Carmen and I exchanged worried glances before she shuffled quickly behind the bar, me lingering behind at a lower pace. She hung her head shamefully, hiding behind her hair as she began cleaning the bar with a wet dishcloth. Edward continued to stand there glaring at me as I offered my customers a refill. Diego and Waylon stared at Edward warily as he continued to watch me with a critical eye. I blatantly ignored him, slightly embarrassed that he'd caught Carmen and I acting like a couple of drunk sorority girls. The bar was silent aside from the quiet chatter and occasional burst of laughter from the customers.

My body began to hum as I leaned over the bar, sliding Diego his change. He was close...I could tell...why my body reacted this way to him I'll never know. It was as though a chemical reaction churned through my system anytime he was around, alerting me to his presence, almost as if he were the predator and I was the prey. Diego thanked me for my service, shooting an uneasy glare over my shoulder, and walked out of the bar, casting the bodyguard at the door a questioning glance.

"Ms. Swan," I heard his voice purr over my shoulder, immediately causing my nipples to harden and my thighs to clench in response. Silently, I cursed my traitor body, glad that I was wearing a padded bra that hopefully covered my straining nipples. Turning hesitantly, my brain chanted frantically for strength...show no weakness...this had been my intention all along, knowing that I would undoubtedly see this man again.

However, it was near impossible to stay strong while standing next to this man. I looked up into those villanous eyes as they roamed my face. The smell of this man...holy crap...someone should bottle that up and sell it. They'd make a fortune. He licked his lips as he stared at me...those pink, perfect lips...

"Is this yours, Ms. Swan?" he asked, holding up my phone. Nodding, I went to grab it, but he was too quick, pulling it away from my grasp and holding it tauntingly, a sly smirk on his face.

"Interesting playlist, Ms. Swan...old country, old school hip hop, rock, blues. You certainly have an eclectic taste in music," he mused, scrolling through my phone with his flawless thumb. Growling, I grabbed at my phone again, my fingers brushing against his, sending shock waves raging through my body. He jumped slightly, at the contact of my fingers, almost as though he'd felt it too and easily released the phone. He stared down at his hand and then into my cautious eyes.

"I supposed everyone has different tastes in music," he said thoughtfully, those eyes still boring into mine. "I'm going to watch you girls work tonight," he said, in a slightly louder voice, glancing over at Tia and Carmen who nodded carefully. "I won't just stand behind the bar watching y'all. I'll help out as much as I can." This surprised me...Edward Cullen didn't strike me as the type of person to pitch in and help out when needed...Patrick never had.

I turned away from him, taking deep, ragged breaths, but I could feel his body ever so slightly brush against mine as he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "Try to concentrate, Ms. Swan...I don't need an employee who can't properly concentrate."

"Are you threatening to fire me, Mr. Cullen?" I hissed, my body consumed with anger. His only response was a poisonous smile. My eyes narrowed as he slid away, and I turned my head stealthily, watching him in my peripheral vision as he wandered over to the dock station. He removed a shiny black object from his pocket before sitting it on the dock. Feeling my eyes on him, he glanced back at me quickly, catching me staring at him. I felt my face blush a brilliant red as he gave me an evil smirk.

Tia and Carmen both shot me an inquisitive look which I chose to ignore, my face contorted in anger. How dare this asshole treat me the way he did last night and then come to work threatening to end my employment if I were to mess up! 'I'll show him,' I thought, willing strong Bella to make an appearance. A new customer arrived, a young guy who didn't look old enough to drink. After checking his identification, I asked what he'd like to drink, and that's when an unfamiliar throbbing, sexual beat began pulsing from the speakers.

"Oh, shit," Tia muttered, accidentally spilling whiskey all over the bar. Raising my eyebrows in surprise, I watched as Tia cleaned up the mess, shocked that she even spilled anything to begin with...Tia never spilled drinks.

"It's this song," she muttered in explanation. "Why did he have to play this fucking song?" Her face pinched up in a painful expression. As the music continued to pound, I began to listen to the unfamiliar lyrics.

"You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you"

At the word 'penetrate' I almost dropped the bottle of vodka I was holding, my hands suddenly turning shaky. Edward appeared next to me, grabbing the bottle from my hands and finished making my customer's drink, which he slid to him with a smile. "Remember, Ms. Swan," he whispered, his back to the bar as he crossed his arms and leaned casually against it. "No mistakes," he smirked. Glaring at him I moved to the next customer, taking his drink order and turned to reach for a bottle of Crown that was on the top shelf. Reaching as far up as I could, I suddenly heard a low groaning sound. Glancing over one shoulder I caught Mr. Cullen blatantly ogling the sliver of skin that had become exposed as I reached for the bottle.

Recovering quickly, he brushed past me, almost angrily, to reach for the bottle himself, clearing his throat as he did so. His shirt rode up as well and that's when I saw it; a washboard abdomen, rippling with well-defined muscles, cut with a deep ridges in the shape of a 'V' that led to the promised land...and an irish flag, tattooed right next to that 'V'. A fucking irish flag. My mind wandered where it didn't need to wander...as I imagined licking that flag tattoo. A lump formed in my throat and Edward turned, handing the bottle to me, a knowing grin on his stupid face as he did so.

"Help me

Tear down my reason

Help me

It's your sex I can smell

Help me

You make me perfect

Help me become somebody else

I wanna fuck you like an animal

I wanna feel you from the inside"

All rational thought left my mind as he stared down at me, handing me that glass bottle and those lyrics blared out of the speakers. The bottle slipped from my nimble fingers, shattering against the tiled floor. Shards of glass flew all around our feet and amber whiskey splashed over our shoes.

"I drink the honey inside your hive

You are the reason I stay alive"

Mr. Cullen's expensive shoes were now covered with sticky whiskey. He stared down at his shoes and then up at me with a glare so frightening that my fight-or-flight response kicked into overdrive. I chose flight. Running from the bar, I burst through the supply room, grabbing a broom and dustpan. I returned nervously to the bar station where Edward still stood, his face red with irritation.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, the pounding of the speakers finally drifting away. Sitting the broom and dustpan down, I grabbed a roll of paper towels from beneath the bar, stooping to wipe Mr. Cullen's shoes with a trembling hand. Tears sprung to my eyes as I imagined I was surely fired now. I angrily wiped a tear away, clutching the paper towels with one hand, lightly blotting the whiskey from my new bosses shoes.

"Get up, Ms. Swan," I heard him whisper. My head shot up, as I stared up at him from the awkward position that I was in, crouching in front of him, alarmingly close to his crotch. I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, gnawing away anxiously. He clasped and unclasped his hands at his side, breathing deeply as he stared back at me, his eyes practically black.

"No," I told him firmly, watching as he raised his eyebrows. "I made a mistake...and I'm fixing it," I mumbled, as Carmen grabbed the broom and Tia held the dustpan. I continued to clean his shoes as he stood perfectly still, never once moving. Once I finished with his shoes, I stood up slowly, my shoulders hunched as I awaited my inevitable termination.

"Ms. Swan...can I speak to you privately for a moment," he asked, avoiding my gaze.

I nodded slowly, ignoring Tia and Carmen's nervous stare as I quietly followed him back to Patrick's office, wondering briefly where Patrick was. Mr. Cullen pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. Slipping the correct key in the door, he twisted the door open and gestured for me to enter, still avoiding my gaze. I slid carefully past him, my shoulder brushing delicately against his chest. I heard him draw in a sharp breath and heard the door close behind me.

Patrick's office was almost bare, besides the stacks of boxes leaning against one wall. The metal desk and chair still sat where they always had, the top of the desk now empty. I sat in a metal chair across from the desk as Mr. Cullen perched in a padded chair behind the desk. The office filled with a thick curtain of tension as we both sat quietly staring at one another. He finally broke the silence first, releasing a heavy sigh.

"Why are you crying, Ms. Swan," he asked, his voice surprisingly soft as he leaned back in the chair. Avoiding his eyes, I hung my head, brushing the tears away as I stared at the floor. Stupid Bella! Stupid, weak Bella, crying in front of this jerk of a man!

"Because you're going to fire me, Mr. Cullen," I murmured, my eyes never leaving the floor. He was silent for a moment and then ran his fingers through his delicious hair in frustration.

"I have no reason to fire you, Ms. Swan," he said, drawing my eyes back to his. His face had a softness to it that didn't exist before. He reached into a drawer in the desk, withdrawing a folder which he tossed on the desk. I stared at it for a moment, noticing my name scrawled upon its edge. "This is your employment record," he explained, his eyes watching me closely. "It's outstanding, really. You never call in sick and rarely ask for a day off that isn't scheduled. You show up for work on time and go above and beyond the requirements of a bartender."

"And I know that you're not working for Jacob Black," he admitted, my eyes snapping back to his. "I have a man on the inside working for Mr. Black. I spoke to him today...he confirmed that you barely know Mr. Black, let alone work for him."

"That's what I tried to tell you last night," I mumbled, slightly relieved that he realized I wasn't trying in any way to deceive him, but still angry about the accusations that he slung my way the night before...the night before...I shifted nervously in my seat, the memories of his lips on my ear...and my neck washing deliciously over my body. The same throbbing, twisting sensation returned as he watched me shift uncomfortably in my chair.

"Is there something wrong, Ms. Swan?" he asked, his voice dripping with sex. Gah, this man needed to quit talking! Was he doing this to me on purpose?

"Um, no, I was just going to apologize for ruining your shoes," I muttered, trying my best to quit wiggling in the chair.

He shocked me by letting out a wicked laugh, tossing his head back, his eyes shining. "Oh, Ms. Swan," he laughed, smirking smugly. "That was not your fault...I turned that song on for a reason. I knew it would make you flustered. I really couldn't help myself." He leaned across the desk, licking his lips.

"You made me look like an idiot on purpose?" I asked, cocking my head to one side. The worry of losing my job had long slipped away, and my nervousness momentarily set aside. Now I was just filled with confusion, wondering why this man would purposely upset me, making me look like a fool.

"No, Ms. Swan," he tisked, standing from the chair and walking around the desk. My eyes held his cautiously the closer he stalked towards me, his lean, panther-like body dangerously close to mine as he stood in front of me and leaned against the desk. "I wasn't trying to make you look like a fool. I must say...when you screamed at me last night and pushed me away, it did something to me. It sparked a fire in my body that I've never felt before. Do you know how many people speak to me like that and get away with it? No one, Ms. Swan. No one talks to me that way and gets away with it."

"Isabella," he whispered, his voice ringing with an unfamiliar fragility. He gently reached towards my face, pulling my bottom lip from its place between my teeth. "I'm sure it's a sin...but I do love to make you flustered...and angry. You don't even know how beautiful you are, do you? Especially when you're angry...you are so fucking beautiful. I'm so sorry, Bella. I don't want to hurt you...but I don't know how to be a good man...I'm not a good person...I really want to be, but I'm not," he murmured, pressing his thumb gently against my bottom lip, his eyes never wavering. "If you're smart, you'll stay far, far away from me."

This man...this stupid man created a monster inside of me that clawed and struggled to get out, wavering my resolve, making me want to drown strong Bella. "Screw strong Bella,"I thought to myself, relying purely on instinct as I grabbed his hand and sucked his thumb into my warm mouth. His eyes grew incredibly wide and he sucked in a deep breath at my actions. I stared up at him, clutching his hand as I sucked on his thumb, enjoying the carnal desire in his eyes.

"Fuck!" he moaned, the sound shooting straight between my legs. I moaned back, sucking harder on his thumb which tasted like sugar and whiskey, pulling it in and out of my mouth. With his free hand he began running his fingers through my long, brown hair, lightly massaging my scalp with the tips of his fingers.

Standing up suddenly, I shoved him back on the desk, his eyes springing open in shock, his shirt riding up over his toned abdomen. Those jeans, those freaking jeans were slung so low that I could see the waistband of his underwear, and that stupid irish flag tattoo continued to call my name. I yanked on his jeans, leaning between his legs, my breasts brushing against his inner thighs, causing a hiss to escape his mouth.

I found what I was looking for, a devious grin crossing my face. He stared down at me intently as I leaned over and did what I'd imagined doing since I first saw it...flicking my hot tongue over that stupid, sexy tattoo. He moaned my name loudly, and I watched in amusement as he threw his head back, cursing. I nibbled, sucked and licked at his skin, breathing in his smell, my body on fire.

"Come here, baby," he whispered, sitting up on the desk and pulling me on top of him, my legs straddling his waist.

My heart pounded in nervous excitement as he stared deeply into my eyes. He brushed my long hair to the side and began running his warm tongue along the side of my neck, licking and nipping at my tender flesh. I felt his hard length pressing against me and a strangled moan left my body. His hands, which were lingering at my waist, now ran up towards my heaving chest. He released the skin of my throat to watch his hands travel up the length of my body.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his hands now cupping my breasts.

He watched my face as he gently squeezed each breast, and used those delicious fingers to twist, pinch and pull at my nipples. I cried out, never having felt this good before, instinctively grinding myself against the hardness in Edward's jeans.

"Edward!" a whiny, nasal voiced yelled from behind the door, followed by a frantic pounding. I yelped in surprise, almost falling off the desk. Edward grabbed my arm, preventing me from hitting the floor, as he too slid off the desk. He began frantically yanking at his shirt to cover the rather large bulge in the front of his pants. He was cursing and muttering, running his fingers through his hair as his eyes nervously drifted between me and the door.

"Babyyyy," the annoying female voice called. "Open, the door baby! It's me, Tanya! Your girlfriend!"

Girlfriend?!

A/N: OHHHHH COCKBLOCKED! EDWARD HAS A GIRLFRIEND? THAT BASTARD! HOPEFULLY SHE'S JUST SOME DELUSIONAL EDWARD CULLEN GROUPIE...WHAT DO YOU THINK? LEAVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS!