The Girl with the Sugar Lips– Chapter 7

"So, what you're saying is if anyone asks, I've never seen Bella Swan?" says Embry as he matches my initial bet and raises me.

It's late on Friday night, and as usual, I've been working into the evening. When it got to 11 p.m., Embry called up to my office and insisted I come and join him and Sam in reception for a friendly game. I swear to God, if it wasn't for these two keeping an eye on me, I'd end up working all night on occasion. I look at the revealed flop cards in our game of Texas Hold 'em and contemplate if Embry is bluffing me with his aggressive betting or if he really does have a good hand. I decide to match his bet for now. The two of a kind I hold in my hand has been upped to three of a kind with the revealed cards. If Embry's bluffing, it could be a winning hand.

Sam folds with a huff.

"That's right," I confirm. "Nobody is to know she's working late." I turn over the next card. It's not good for me, but I keep my best poker face on. The one that works every time in business meetings.

"Especially not Caius Volturi." Embry almost spits the name as he throws down his next bet. He's going in strong again. "You know, I was with you in never trusting him, but Victoria I'm surprised at."

"I agree." I ponder my employees as I also ponder my bet. Time to go big or go home. I raise the bet, determined to make Embry fold. He's been chewing his nail. Usually a sign he's bluffing. "It's since she got with that James."

"You could be right there. The word on the grapevine is he's into gambling on the weekends down at that club on Seventh. Eclipse, I think it's called. I also heard he's not very good. A little like yourself," he says, grinning, matching my bet without flinching. Perhaps, I'm wrong about him bluffing.

"Hey, I object to that. Just because you have some kind of mind reading ability. I always beat Emmett when we play."

Sam laughs. "Anyone can read Emmett. That man is an open book."

I join in his laughter and concede his truth with a small shrug as I turn over the River card. Hmm, that doesn't add anything to my hand, but it seems it might be worse for Embry. I watch him closely, noticing the slight frown on his face; it disappears fast, but he can't hide his disappointment from me. He's bluffing. It's as clear as day. My hand's not the best, but I figure his is worse.

"You know, Volturi was trying to get me to go to that club. He thought it would be good for us to get to know each other better. It must be where the three of them met. I obviously declined. I can't think of anyone I'd less like to spend my precious free time with."

"I'd have advised you against it. You hear things about that place. Money laundering for criminal gangs, drugs, loan sharks," says Sam.

I watch as Embry once again raises the bet while nodding his agreement. "A friend of mine worked the door there for a while but quit after a month. He said it wasn't worth the hassle, even though the salary was great. He said they paid you to look the other way. He didn't want any of that shit."

I match his bet without hesitation, confident I have this in the bag. Smiling, I reveal my cards. He smiles back, placing his cards down slowly. Fuck, the fucker has a flush. He wasn't bluffing at all. I groan, knowing he has me beat. Sam laughs as Embry sweeps his winnings toward himself.

"It's not just my money he's taken," I say nodding toward Sam and his very small remaining stack of chips. "I vote we get out of here while we still have the shirts on our backs."

Sam and I gather our stuff while Embry packs away the game into his personal locker under the desk.

"Next week, I'm winning that all back," I say as we make our way to the elevator for Sam to drive me home.

"In your dreams, Cullen." He laughs, and I know he's right. That man has freakish poker skills.

~TGwtSL~

The next week sees Bella and I meeting on Monday and again on Thursday, and we set this up as our regular nights to get together. The plan is she'll work late, doing what needs to be done, analyzing the projects, setting the traps, and gathering the data, then we'll get together to go through what we have and plan the next steps. After we've concluded our work, well, let's just say I plan to make the most of me and Bella being alone in my office with no one around.

I find myself musing during the day about all the ways I want to take her. I imagine her bent over my desk, up against the window, or straddling me as I sit on the sofa. I've taken more cold showers in the last week than I have in the past four years. It's true she seems to have some kind of hold on my body. But as I spend more time with her, I'm also finding her mind to be fascinating. I'm beginning to realize she's going to be a huge asset to my company, and I see her rising quickly once this project is out the way. I can't wait to work with her more. To see that amazing brain of hers problem solving on some of my projects or leading a team to bring in exciting new business.

"So, what do you make of this project," I say as we finish going through and cataloging the changes made to a file she's been working on that Thursday.

"From what I've seen, the profit-loss analysis looks favorable, and the department looks to be plugging a niche that others have overlooked, so it's seeing good growth at the moment. But the niche is small, and it won't be long until they've exhausted all the available customers. They'll need to branch out soon if they want to keep growing; however, that will mean taking on the big players, who may react aggressively to the intrusion into their stronghold. The way I see it, you'll soon need to decide if you want to stay small and niche, or invest big and fight hard to keep up the growth they've enjoyed to date."

I look back at her. It's a great analysis, based on very little data, and one I agree with. "You've been doing your homework, Miss Swan. I'm impressed." She blushes and looks down. I really need to teach her to accept a compliment. She's going to be getting a lot more of them. "Have you ever thought of starting your own company?" I'd hate to be in competition against her. She'd make a formidable opponent, and I have a nagging feeling I may end up losing.

"I'd never really given it much thought. Startup capital would be an issue. It's hard to get investors to back an unknown, and a young one at that. I also think I might be a little too risk averse. I tend to play it safe a little more than you do."

I smile as I remember back to the look of shock she gave me the previous week when I told her I was acquiring a business she'd been analyzing. On paper, it looked like a bad bet, but numbers don't tell the whole story. I explained to her about the business, the people, and how the company slotted in. It was a risk, I agreed, but with a few changes in management and the internal structure, I could see the revamped company doing well, and I had just the person in mind to take over as the CEO. A bright young mind named Riley Biers. He had a talent for building and leading a team. He'd already turned around one failing business for me, and I looked forward to giving him more challenges.

"How did you start up CMH? You were fresh out of business school, weren't you? How did you convince people to invest in you?"

"Well, I was lucky. I have a rich godfather, Edward Masen, my namesake, who saw the potential in me. He and my father nearly came to blows over it." I think back to that difficult time in my life.

"Masen?" she asks. "As in Cullen Masen Holdings?"

"That's right. He's a silent partner. It felt right to include him in the company name, considering he put up the cash."

"And your dad didn't approve?"

I've never really talk to anyone about the arguments I'd had with my father during college and the few years immediately following it, even hiding them from Lisa in an attempt to not taint their relationship. I always knew he loved me and wanted the best for me; it was just what he and I thought was the best didn't tally.

Bella and I are sitting on the sofas in my office, our files and laptops spread out over the coffee table in front of us. The work is finished for today; it's time to get her close. I pull her onto my lap. It's nothing to do with me feeling more comfortable opening up when she can't see my face. That's just a happy byproduct. I'm not sure why I feel so comfortable revealing my inner thoughts to her. Perhaps it's because she's a secret herself. She's certainly shown herself to be trustworthy with this special project, but I'm not one to usually trust easily. There's something, though, that makes me trust her. She's honest and pure, and I don't think she'd use anything she were to learn against me. It feels strange to trust someone I hardly know. So unlike me. But it also feels so right, especially when she runs her fingers through the short hairs at the back of my neck and I feel her breath fan out over my chest. Yep, this, for some strange, inexplicable reason, feels right.

"He thought I should follow in his footsteps, use my mind to heal others, to do good in the world. Growing up, my dad was my hero. He was the great surgeon, the one doing pioneering research in the field of cardiovascular care. He saved lives every day, and I wanted nothing more than to be like him. He bought me microscopes and toy doctor's kits, feeding my young mind with curiosity.

"I went to college fully prepared to go into medicine. It was in my sophomore year that I changed my mind and changed my major to business. He couldn't understand how I could change so much. He thought of entrepreneurs as ruthless, cutthroat individuals who are only out for themselves. He especially views what I do, taking over failing businesses, as less than ethical. He struggles to see the good I do, the jobs I save. Yes, some jobs are lost but less than if I sat back and let the business fail. He also doesn't understand how this can be a vocation, how I'm driven to do this as much as he's driven to practice medicine."

"What did make you change your mind?"

"It was a couple of things really." I pull her in close to my chest. I've never admitted the main reason to anyone. It shows weakness, and Edward Cullen does not show weakness. But it feels safe telling her. After all, everything we do is a secret. "Firstly, I took a couple business modules and discovered I enjoyed it and had a talent for it. The second was a placement I had over the first summer vacation at a local hospital."

I cringe as I remember the experience, the humiliation still fresh. "It would appear I can't stand the sight of blood. I was in the ER and a patient was bleeding profusely, and the next thing I know, I wake up lying flat out on the floor. I'd not really been exposed to too much blood before, and I didn't really understand what had happened. But then it happened again the next week, this time with a young kid who'd broken his arm. The bone was poking through the skin, and I once again woke up on the floor. But that time, I really frightened an already anxious patient. I was asked to keep away from the patients after that, and I went to work in the lab. But that was so fucking boring I ended up quitting early. I made up some excuse to my dad about wanting some time to have fun before I went back to college and tried to convince myself I could get over it. I knew I could cope with small amounts of blood; hell, I'd scraped my knees enough times as a kid and not fainted. But when there is so much of it, well, it all just becomes too much. So, now you know my weakness."

"So, if I want to bring you to your knees, all I need is a sheet of paper with a sharp edge?" she says, giggling.

"It's no laughing matter, Miss Swan. I live in fear of people unwrapping presents in a careless fashion, and don't even get me started on people refilling the photocopier." I tickle her, loving the sound of her laughter and desiring more of it. She squirms around on my lap, struggling to get free, but I hold her close with one arm as the other teases her body.

She ends up under me, my arms resting on the sofa on either side of her head. The squirming has had the expected effect on a certain part of my body that is now making its presence known between her legs. Our eyes meet, and her laughter dies just seconds before our lips crash together. The kiss is soft but passionate, and it seems to go on and on, the feelings gradually intensifying with the gentle rocking of our bodies, giving us some much-needed friction. I feel like a teenager, making out on my parent's couch, but it feels so good. Her hands are in my hair, gently tugging, but not asking for more. The feelings are building, even with the friction being felt through my pants, but I want more.

I pull back and look down at her. "If I don't get naked and buried in you soon, Sugar Lips, I'm going to end up making a mess in my pants, and I've not done that since I was a teenager."

She giggles again and locks her legs around my hips, as if she could keep me captured.

"Now, that would be something to see. The great Mr. Cullen losing control."

"Oh, I never lose control, Miss Swan." I push up on to my knees, bringing her, still holding tight around me, up with me. "Now, let's see what we can do to make you lose control. I give you five minutes." She raises an eyebrow at me. Challenge accepted.

I thrust my hips up toward her core, and I'm rewarded with a small gasp. I twist around, and with one arm, I sweep all our files off the coffee table before lying her back on the newly cleared surface. She's still not letting go with her legs, but that's just fine. I still have plenty to work with. I rub my hips up and down, adding a strategic twist at the top of my stroke. I know from her small whimpers I'm hitting the right spot with each movement. I undo her blouse, my hungry eyes taking in her fantastic breasts, before I lean forward and hungrily take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking hard. I'm rewarded with a low moan.

I keep up my dual assault, never letting up, until I feel her legs tighten even harder around me. Her head goes back, her mouth opening, her eyes closing, fluttering as they do in an expression I'm enjoying becoming very familiar with.

As she comes down, her legs loosen, and I take my opportunity, quickly moving back out of her grasp and getting out of my pants and underwear as quickly as is humanly possible before grabbing the nearest condom.

I hear a giggle and raise my eyebrow at her, still laid back on the coffee table, a picture of relaxation and post coital bliss. A state I intend to get to as quickly as possible.

"Eager much?"

"You better fucking believer it," I announce as I finally get the retched prophylactic in place. I kneel down before her and enter her swiftly, letting out a deep sigh as I finally hit home. I hold still, buried deep within her, and take a few deep breaths just enjoying the sensation of her warmth, her tightness, of her.

I slowly open my eyes to see her watching me, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly ajar.

"You, that ... Fuck, the look on your face ... you look so damn sexy." I smirk at her almost incoherent ramblings. I feel entirely the same.

"Are you ready, Sugar Lips?"

She nods, wiggling her hips for emphasis, and then I start moving. I take it slow at first, knowing it won't take much for me to reach my peak, but it's not long until I can no longer hold back, and I find myself ramming into her like my life depends on it, and in that moment, it feels like it does. I'm spurred on by her moans and gasps, and I grip her hips for added leverage. The sight of her laid out exposed in front of me becomes too much. I need her to come again. I need to hold on, but it's becoming almost impossible. I feel the familiar tingle in my balls, and I know I don't have long.

"Touch yourself, Bella. I need to feel you come."

She follows my lead, and I feel her hand at her clit as I ram into her. I know if I had my eyes open and could see her, it would be too much. Just the feel of her fingers there and the knowledge of the intimate way she is touching herself is pushing me so close I'm hanging on by the tips of my fingers. Then she speaks the words that are my undoing.

"Open you eyes, Edward. Look at me. Look at what you do to me. I want to see your face as you fuck me, as you make me yours, as you come deep inside me."

Her dirty words are too much. As I open my hooded eyes and take her in, flushed and panting, her chest rising and falling, her hand giving her some extra friction, I can no longer hold back, and with one last, deep, hard thrust, I explode inside her. As my release shudders through me, I watch as she too comes undone, the sensation of her walls gripping me combined with the blissful look on her face extending my feelings of euphoria.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. More coming soon. I promise.

Thank you to all of you for sticking with me and continuing to read (and review). I love you all for your support and kind words.

Thanks to Alice's White Rabbit for getting rid of a lot of errors. Any remaining are all down to me.