A/N: As always, I adore each and every one of you for your support on every chapter! Hope you enjoy this one!

SOLACE

When Mr. Cullen places me in the passenger seat of that damn Volvo, he has the heating on, and my drunken body relaxes immediately in the hot air. My hands fall limp against the leather beneath me, and I can feel a series of circles embossed into the material. They feel nice underneath my fingertips.

Reaching across my torso, Mr. Cullen secures my seatbelt in place with a soft click, and I notice the way he hovers over me, our bodies almost touching. His breath washes over my exposed cleavage and I shudder, letting my head fall back against the headrest.

A euphoric rush engulfs me and brings me back towards sobriety, replaced by a new sensation.

Just like the last time he was this close to my body, my nerves stand on end, aching for him, desperate to escape the confines of my body and pull him flush against me.

Even in my drunken state, the intoxication that Mr. Cullen brings me is much more powerful.

"Are you okay, Bella?" He asks as he settles into the driver's seat, securing his own belt in place, and I notice how it slightly cuts into the contours of his chest.

Edward places the keys into the ignition, the car coming alive with a low rumble.

"Yeah – I was having a good time until you showed up," I snap, and I am slightly shocked by the aggression in my tone; I hadn't forgotten about the clothing shop just yet.

Mr. Cullen chuckles as he manoeuvres the car along the dark road. There are no streetlights across the stretch of the Reservation, and the surrounding blackness is stifling, only emphasising the lack of space between us.

The hand nearest to his window rests comfortably upon the leather steering wheel, traversing the tight corners like a professional. His other hand, closest to me, grazes the nub of the gear stick.

His touch looks strong, purposeful.

The hunger in my stomach purrs with approval.

"You sure about that?" Mr. Cullen asks, and I silently curse him for interrupting my ogling session. "You looked like you were about to chuck your guts up."

I roll my eyes, crossing my legs and mimicking the movement with my arms as well. "I was just getting some air. There were a fuck ton of people in that house. Not really built for a massive house party."

When we finally reach the main road towards Forks, Edward floors the accelerator, and my irritation dissipates, preoccupied with the thrill. I have to fight not to shriek with excitement.

"Did your friends not think to follow you?" His tone is gruff, and I can sense his own displeasure.

"I'm not a child, Sir. I don't need a babysitter."

In my peripheral vision, I notice him grip onto the gear stick tightly, his knuckles paling.

"Were they not worried you could have gotten stolen by some stranger?" His question has a clear seriousness to it, and my anger seems to disappear completely, amused by his concern.

I can have some fun with this.

Shifting my body in the compact space, I release the seatbelt that Mr. Cullen secured around me, allowing myself some breathing space.

When he starts to voice his protests, I ignore them, bringing my knees up to rest on the leather seat, my sneakers brushing against the passenger door; I know that I have probably left a scuff, but I hope that Mr. Cullen cannot see. Twisting my torso, my body now faces the Adonis beside me, and I relax seductively against the back of the chair, pushing my chest forward slightly.

For a moment, his eyes leave the road and fall upon my cleavage. His jaw clenches as he takes in my new stance, and I swear that I can visibly see his irritation fade.

"Who are you talking about, Sir? Someone like you?"

He chuckles, arching the eyebrow closest to me. "You still think we're strangers, Miss. Swan?"

"No, but you did steal me," I proffer, and he opens his mouth, as if to argue with me. Nothing follows. "What were you doing down at the Reservation anyway?"

"Uh, I was just going on a drive," His response is hesitant, and I can tell that he is uncomfortable, shifting in his seat.

"At one a.m?" I might be younger than he is, but I'm not stupid.

"Yeah," His tone isn't very convincing. "Is that not allowed?"

Cocking my head to the side, I scoff. "It's not exactly the best place to go for a drive. Not much to see in the darkness, is there?"

Glancing over at me again, his eyes search mine, but I don't let him find anything. He shakes his head, looking back at the road. "Alright, you caught me…I was coming to see you."

Now it's my turn to laugh. "I knew it! You were stalking me?"

In the soft glow of the headlights, he grimaces. "Not exactly. I was just coming down to make sure that you were okay. And I'm glad that I did."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I run a fingertip across the patterned leather. "Well, thanks, I guess. But I can take care of myself."

"It doesn't hurt to say thank you, Miss. Swan. Or do I need to teach you some manners?" There is a purr within his voice, and it ignites something between my legs.

Considering the weight of his words, I am conscious of how hidden we would be in the trees. No-one would know any better if we just pulled over…would they?

However, a certain ginger-haired woman flashes across my mind, and my arousal immediately disappears. My eyebrows crease. "I'm surprised you were allowed out tonight, you know. I thought that you would be with Esme."

Mr. Cullen looks confused. "What? No, she works on a Friday night – why?"

I take a deep breath before I speak. "Well, she is your girlfriend, isn't she?"

This time, his laugh is loud and hearty. His teeth glisten in the headlights. "Is that why you're so upset? Bella, she's my mother. She asked me to go shopping with her. Again, I didn't realize that my behavior was so criminal."

"Your mother?" I squeak, feeling my blood run cold; the apples of my cheeks burn fiercely.

"Yes, Bella," Mr. Cullen reinforces, and the embarrassment continues to wash over me. My previous confidence is gone, and I suddenly feel small. I turn back towards the windscreen. "You know, it's not good to jump to such extreme conclusions."

"Yeah, I suppose not," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

A new, uncomfortable silence falls between the two of us, and I don't like the way it makes me feel. I wasn't used to being wrong, and I certainly wasn't used to fucking up in front of someone I wanted to impress.

Staring into the blackness, I try to work out how far away we are from town, not knowing whether I need to give Edward any instructions or if we had already missed my turning. In one way, I want to hide away in my bed, never to leave again; in another, I'm terrified to be alone.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Cullen's concerned tone pulls me from my thoughts.

"Nothing's wrong."

"You sound just like my Mom," He retorts, and I wonder whether he's used that reference on purpose. "There's something wrong."

"You're ridiculous," I groan.

Moving his hand away from the gear stick, he rests it upon my bare thigh, and I can't help but look over at him once more. He has slowed the car down, almost to a halt, and his green eyes burn into mine. "Come on, you can trust me."

My stomach dips, and I hate how much of an effect he has on me, on every inch of my being. In two short days, he had coiled me tight, winding me into a ball of frustration, before allowing me to simply unravel on my own, left defeated in my own humiliation.

He's chewed me up, spat me back out, and placed a mirror in front of me so that I can survey the damage.

"I guess I'm just angry with myself," I begin, and the words initially struggle to leave my lips. "That was immature of me. I'm sorry."

He pulls his lips into a tight line and removes his hand from my skin, pulling the car into a side road. "You don't need to apologize, Isabella; we all do it. I'm sure I would have thought the same if I were in your position."

His words have no effect on my frustration, and I sigh loudly, smacking my head against the leather. "Yeah, but I bet you would have asked me about it first."

"Probably," He says, and it only makes me feel worse. "But it's all about learning. You don't grow if you don't make mistakes in life."

"Yeah, but I don't usually let myself get like this," I clench my fists. "I don't usually let my emotions get the best of me like this."

Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I silently curse the alcohol that flows through my veins.

Keeping my eyes fixed to my thighs, I can't bear to let him see me so vulnerable. Even though I can feel his own gaze scorching my exposed skin, I refuse to give into him for the first time in forty-eight hours.

Pull yourself together, Bella.

"Maybe it just shows that you're becoming an adult," Edward suggests.

"Maybe it's just what you do to me," I mumble, now toying with a loose piece of skin on my thumb. "Had you thought of that?"

Before he answers, Mr. Cullen pulls my fists away from my lap and cradles them in the comfort of his touch. My focus shifts, weakens, and my desires overpower me. I look over at him.

The concern in his expression is profound, and I feel exposed in the ferocity of his gaze. He has leant closer to me, physically searching for admittance to my deepest feelings, and I can't reject him for much longer.

My self-control is not that strong.

"That is a possibility, Miss. Swan," He whispers, his voice low and husky again. "But only you know the answer to that."

I knew, in myself, that I didn't need to inspect the prospect further. He was my false god, an unexpected marvel, and I was ready to fully commit to the intensity of his religion.

I was done with holding back.

"Uh, both of my parents are at work tonight, and Matty isn't in the house either," I begin, and the intimacy makes me shudder. "Would it be too much to ask you to stay over tonight?"

Edward holds my gaze intently for a long moment before releasing my hands, grasping the steering wheel again. "I'll take you to mine instead. I don't fancy pissing off Chief Swan just yet."

We reach Edward's apartment complex swiftly, only cruising for a few minutes more, and I am surprised by how close it is to my house. The block had only been constructed in the past year and, much like my own suburbia, it was common knowledge that it attracted inhabitants from a wealthier walk of life.

The exterior is grey in color, but, in the darkness, I can't quite determine the material. Balconies embellish every level, and only a few rooms are illuminated in the early hour. Luckily, as I follow Mr. Cullen towards the entrance, there appears to be no-one around, and we quickly slip into the warmth.

Now, saturated in light, I can see what my savior is wearing. His legs are nestled in a dark pair of branded joggers and his sweater is just as gloomy. After only seeing him in a suit and tie, it surprises me to see him in such normal clothing. Although, it's certainly a nice revelation. In this moment, I decide that he looks delicious in all black.

Leading me up a flight of stairs, Mr. Cullen pulls a set of keys from the pocket of his pants and unlocks a door embellished with the number '107'. It is made from black-toned wood and looks sleek against the white-painted walls.

Inside, the apartment is just as luxurious. With all of its furnishings, it could have come straight from an interior design magazine.

"The bathroom is at the end of the hallway if you want to freshen yourself up at all, and I'll see if I can find a spare t-shirt for you to wear," He says as he drops the keys onto a table beside the front door; a small plant also sits atop. "Did you want anything to drink?"

"A tea would be nice," I murmur, taking in the opulent space. "A milky one, please."

He bows his head humorously before disappearing into the kitchen, and a cacophony of clinking ceramic fills the air. I wander into the front room area, and flop onto one of three leather couches that sit upon a white, fluffy rug. The TV that sits upon the glass coffee table is tremendous, almost engulfing my small physique, and I wonder what shows he likes to watch. Maybe he just has it for display?

I can't imagine someone so out-of-this-world doing something so…normal.

When Mr. Cullen reappears, he carries two mugs in his hands, both with steam swirling from the top. In the kitchen, he has taken off his sneakers, and now walks around in only his socks. He looks cute when he's relaxed.

"Sorry about the cup," He says as he holds one out to me; it is decorated with roses and peonies. "This used to be Esme and Carlisle's place. They left some of their stuff here when I moved in."

"Don't worry. It's takes a very manly man to use floral mugs," I tease as I take the beverage from him, and he laughs. Observing the space again, it certainly looks fit for a doctor and his wife. "They can't have lived here for long."

"They didn't," Edward says as he sits down on the same couch I am on, smiling warmly at me. "It was more of a temporary place until they found their dream home. They moved pretty quickly."

Nodding at Edward's answer, I am suddenly aware of how alone we truly are. Unlike our other interactions, there is absolutely no-one around to possibly catch us together. Is this what Edward was planning when he came down to the Res?

I can't quite make sense of him tonight, reclining innocently on the furniture in his front room. His caring nature is unrecognizable from the man who had just pinned me up against his whiteboard. I desperately want to know what he is thinking.

"Our parents work together, you know," I say, attempting to distract my thoughts.

Except, as I wait for him to reply, my mind is overpowered by my cravings. I wonder what his shower looks like. I wonder whether it is big enough for two bodies. I wonder what his skin would feel like against mine, moist from the spray, slipping as we cling to one another.

I clear my throat.

"I did know," Edward retorts finally, giving me something to focus on. "They work at the hospital, don't they?"

"Yeah, that's it. My Mom already loves your Dad."

"Ah, Carlisle," Edward chuckles, a dejected look crossing his face. He drops his eyes to his cup. "I'm not surprised. He's a great man."

"Why do you seem upset by that?" I don't know whether it is my place to probe, but my urge to understand him is fierce.

"I'm not upset, it's just what I expected to hear. Everybody loves Carlisle."

"Surely some of that must have rubbed off on you, then? Being his son?"

"I don't know about that one. I would love to be like Carlisle, but I think I've got a way to go before then."

I furrow my eyebrows. "I mean, I think you're pretty great."

He smiles, but it still looks sad. "That's very sweet of you, Bella, but it's fine – you don't need to make me feel better."

"Alright," I try not to let him see how much that hurts me. "So, what made you move to Forks?"

"My life became a bit…stale where I was living before. Mom knows the headmistress of the Academy, and she said that there was an opening for an English teacher." He takes a sip of his drink. "I had the job before I'd even spoken to the woman."

"I didn't realize your parents were so influential around here."

Edward raises his eyebrows. "Like I said before, Miss. Swan, there's a lot of mystery that surrounds me."

"How long are you going to keep that one up for?" I counter, matching his expression. "It's getting a bit dry now."

"For as long as it keeps you interested," The smirk he gives me is heavenly. "I can't have you getting bored of me."

I try to fight against the urge, but my vitality is weak in the face of Mr. Cullen's allure. His words make me shiver, my skin breaking out goosebumps.

Almost immediately, he rubs a thumb across my ankle. "You're cold."

"No, I'm fine," I assure, but he ignores me.

"You should shower. I don't want you catching anything."

The thought of being alone makes me uneasy.

"Could you join me in the bathroom, then? Not like, in the shower with me, just like…keep me company?"

Finally, the smile that decorates his face has an air of happiness to it. "I know what you're trying to do, Miss. Swan, but don't think you'll break me this quickly."

"I'm not. I'm just asking you to do it as my friend."

"Friend?" He mocks, laughing as he reaches for the mug in my hands. It is only half-finished. "Go and start the shower – I'll join you in a minute."

Clambering off of the couch, I start to make my way towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway, my bare feet padding against the wooden floor.

I know he is watching me as I walk, so I emphasize the sway in my hips. When I am sure that he has disappeared into the kitchen, my movement shifts, and I focus instead on not fainting.

Fortunately, answering my earlier intrigue, I am satisfied to see that Edward's shower occupies the entirety of the furthest bathroom wall. Peeling the clothes away from my aching body, I leave my top and skirt in a pile on the tiled floor, a dull pulse setting in at the base of my skull. Even though I had shown him my bare pussy at the beginning of the week, I suddenly feel vulnerable, standing in my underwear in the middle of Mr. Cullen's bathroom. It is something I always feel after opening my heart to someone.

If truth be told, I don't enjoy it. That's why I usually keep my emotions to myself.

Staring at myself in the mirror above my sink, the tops of my arms are flushed a blotchy red and my eyes are blood-shot – both a symptom of my excessive drinking. I pull my hair over my shoulders and it falls into place, messy, resting just above my enhanced cleavage. As I reach around and unhook the clasp of my push-up bra, I know, deep down, that there is no going back.

Tonight, in the concealment of Mr. Cullen's gorgeous apartment, I am almost certain that we will cross the threshold of teacher and student. With surprise, I feel anxious as the thought, my heartbeat thumping fiercely in my throat. The more we speak, the more I show him the girl underneath the hard exterior, the more my body yearns for his touch.

I want, more than anything, to feel his hands upon my bare body. The curves of my waist call for his touch, and I can only hope that, tonight, he understands the strength of my need.

With one final inhale, I step into the shower.

The heat of the water causes the glass to steam up quickly, and I am grateful for the sliver of extra cover. Just like he's making me work for the reward of his touch, I want him to crave the sight of my nakedness. I want to torture him slightly. I want to show him that his winning status is under threat.

The scorching water is a blessing, and I groan softly as it flows over my skin. The pain in my head lessens, and I relax into the spray.

"It's good, isn't it?" I hadn't even realized that Mr. Cullen had come in, and his booming voice makes me squeal.

"Jesus Christ. Tell me that you're coming in next time."

"You asked me to join you?"

"Yeah – not to give me a heart attack, though." I retort, yelling slightly over the powerful stream of water. The door clicks into place.

Through the misty windows, his body is merely a silhouette, and I watch as he makes his way over to the sink. Turning around, I can tell that he is now leaning against the ceramic bowl, crossing his ankles and his arms.

"So, Isabella," The way my name sounds in his mouth is delectable and it makes me slick between my thighs. "How comes you don't want to be alone tonight?"

"My parents work most of the week," I reply. "Once you've been alone for two nights in a row, you get a bit tired."

"That's not what I meant. I meant – why don't you want to be alone in the bathroom?"

I swallow, my mouth dry.

"Just so I don't get murdered, you know."

He laughs.

"You really think I would let a murderer get to you?"

"I don't know. I don't know you that well yet."

"Hmm,"

"I've heard there's a really great way of getting to know a person though." I tease, my voice dripping with seduction. I notice him shift in place.

"What's that, Miss. Swan?"

Pulling open the glass door, I expose myself completely to Mr. Cullen, steam billowing into the bathroom. With the alcohol within me, my own erratic behavior is a mystery, but the thirst for Edward seems to be in control. The devil on my shoulder is telling me that this is what I need to do; my rose-colored glasses are too strong to allow for logical thinking.

I lean against the door, my moist skin making a mark on the mist, and I thrust my hip out to the side, making sure he can see every inch of me.

Edward pulls his bottom lip completely into his mouth and shifts again as he takes me in. My nipples harden as I notice a bulge begin to protrude in his joggers and he glares at me, eyes smoldering.

"Seeing a person completely naked," I purr, and he clenches his jaw before me. "That's when they're the most vulnerable."

"Isabella…"

"What, Sir?" I ask, cocking my head to the side, feigning innocence.

"We've spoken about this," The gruff in his voice only spurs me on. "You're not going to break me like this."

"But, Sir, I'm only trying to show you how grateful I am."

"Yes, you said thank you already. You don't need to do anything else."

His voice has a hint of anger to it, and it makes me smirk.

"It made me feel so good when you turned up at the Reservation," I say as I come onto the balls of my feet, my entire back now resting against the glass. Snaking my fingers across my thigh, I find my clit, and begin to rub.

Edward growls. "Really?"

"Yes, Sir," The sensation between my legs is pleasurable, but I exaggerate it slightly for my performance. "So good."

"Isabella…"

"Oh, Sir, you really make me feel so good."

"Urgh, fuck the fucking game," Edward groans before he strides across the bathroom and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into the shower with him.

My body sings as I finally feel his fingertips upon me. He slams the door behind us, causing the other panes to shake slightly, and water saturates his clothing, the material clinging to his body. The contour of his cock makes me throb.

"Does this mean I've won, Sir?" I ask, and this only seems to anger him more. Lowering his head, he nips at my neck, and I moan.

"Not at all," He states, bringing his head back to my height. Our eyes burn into each other. "I know what girls like you are like, Isabella. Seems like you need someone to teach you a proper lesson."

At long last, he crashes his lips against mine, and, tonight, I certainly feel like a victor.

Ahhhhh, please don't hate me! I'm such a lover of a cliff-hanger - maybe I've been taking some ideas from Mr. Cullen? ;)

Like always, let me know what you think and how much you hate the way I've ended this - I promise I will make it up to you at the next update!

Happy reading :D