A/N:

Hi folks, the Lion's waited far too long and so have you. Let's meet up down below.

Happymess: You're a hella tight beta. I put that on mama's, Cudie. Yadidimean?

*DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight…I'm just a girl that gets stalked by squirrels.*

No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness.

-Aristotle

I triple checked the address to make sure I had the right place before tossing my phone back in my purse. The house went far beyond anything I could have imagined; not that I expected my boss to live in a shack, but still.

He never failed to surprise me.

My truck door squeaked as I slammed it shut. The view of Mount Rainer struck me the moment I walked past my rusty, red beast. Massive windows framed the architectural wonderland that stood before me, not unlike the massive windows at his New York penthouse or at Cullen Publishing. Clearly, the man preferred windows to walls.

I wondered what that said about him.

Normally such a blatant display of wealth would disgust me, but the tranquility the grounds bathed me in wouldn't allow it. No way could Edward feel angry in such a peaceful place.

A cool, fall breeze blew through my hair as I rang the bell. Within seconds the door swung open.

"You're late," my boss greeted with a scowl on his face. The fact that he answered the door himself took me by surprise. Where were his servants?

"My clock read eight on the dot when I pulled onto your road. It's not my fault your property can fit my entire hometown in it." I gripped my hip firmly.

His gaze lingered on my torn tights before snapping up to meet my eyes. "You look…unconventional."

"Thank you." I smiled sweetly while taking him in. He changed from a sharp black suit to a sharp gray suit. "I suppose you consider this casual?"

"For dining out, yes," he replied with his nose in the air.

"Do you own a pair of jeans?" Everyone owned at least one pair of jeans.

"Why would I own jeans?" His perplexed expression made me laugh.

"Never mind, could you at least lose the jacket?" We couldn't look more mismatched if we tried.

"Definitely not." He stepped out of the entrance, closing the door behind him. "Where's your car?"

He towered over me. I fought hard to ignore his dominating presence, but he made it impossible. He didn't intimidate me though, we both knew that.

"Right there." I pointed to my beloved hunk of metal.

Given the atmosphere she looked a bit more rickety than usual, but that just made me love her more. Without glancing at him I skipped down the steps and quickly made my way over to my truck. As I reached for the door I noticed he had yet to move an inch.

"Come on!" I yelled out, waving him over like a dog. Why I thought that approach might work was beyond me.

"Ms. Swan, what is that monstrosity doing on my property?" His eyes shot fire my way.

"This monstrosity is your ride for the evening and I do believe we evolved to a first name basis." I smiled sweetly.

He stormed straight toward me. "We regressed the moment you polluted my premises with that hideous deathtrap."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Mr. Cullen." I walked to the passenger side and opened the door for him, it creaked loudly. "You agreed to this. I thought you were a man of your word."

A low growl left his lips. "I recall you describing your vehicle as vintage, not dilapidated." He threw a disgusted glare at my poor truck.

"I find appearances can be deceiving. One man's junk is another man's treasure. You really shouldn't be so judgmental." I eyed him disapprovingly.

His jaw tightened. "It leaked oil all over my driveway."

"Where?" I looked around at the gorgeous cobblestone beneath my feet.

"Right there." He pointed to a small black spot.

"Are you serious?" I could barely see it.

"Do you actually use this as your primary source of transportation?" His voice dripped with repulsion.

"Of course not." I lifted my chin up high. "My Vanquish is in the shop."

He took a step closer. "Then we'll take mine."

My mouth hung open. "You have a Vanquish?"

"I do." He stared down at the speck of oil on his driveway. His eyes narrowed at my truck before returning to mine. "She's the newest addition to my collection."

Extravagant toys did not impress me. Luxury cars and their snooty drivers generally sickened me, but for as long as I could remember, Jasper and I salivated over that car.

Who wouldn't?

I glanced back at my truck apologetically before slamming the door shut and spinning around to face my boss. "Is she fully loaded?"

He flinched at the audacity of such a question. "Of course."

"Alright then." I sighed deeply. "If you insist."

"Oh, I insist." He turned to lead the way to his garage, mumbling something beneath his breath. I watched him enter a code into the keypad on the wall, causing one of the many doors to open.

"Amazing," I whispered in pure awe.

Jazz would die when he saw this. I reached into my handbag and grabbed my cell phone. The unique bronze color of the car reminded me of a shiny, new penny. Actually, as Edward opened the driver's side door I noticed how closely it matched the natural highlight in his hair.

"What are you doing?" My boss raised an inquisitive brow at me. I stood there ogling him with my phone poised to take his picture…and the car. Together they made a stunning sight.

He watched me with a curious look on his face as I threw my phone back in my purse. Thankfully, I regained my composure before I made a complete ass of myself.

"I just wanted to check the time. You know how I hate being late." A smirked appeared on my lips as I opened the car door. I slid into butter soft leather seats.

Good Lord, it felt heavenly.

We flew down the highway. I didn't even try to wipe the shit eating grin off my face. Edward knew how to handle the car like an expert. My boss placed power above all else in his life. The car was more than just an expensive toy to him. He reveled in the forceful speed it was capable of and his complete dominance over it. I relished the experience for a different reason.

It made me feel free and alive.

After punching our destination into the navigation system I eased back into my seat and turned to face him. "So, what kind of music do you like?" I held up a hand. "Wait, don't tell me. I want to see if I can figure it out on my own."

"Always so inquisitive." He shot me a side glance before returning his eyes to the road.

"Well, we've established you're not a fan of Sir-Mix- A lot," I deduced, eyeing him in deep thought.

"Hardly." He pushed down on the gas pedal, causing my head to fall back against the seat.

My mind ran through every possible musical genre, yet none seemed to suit him. It made no sense. Who didn't appreciate music? I snorted at the thought.

"Something funny?" Edward asked; his eyes set straight ahead.

"No. Frightening, actually." I shivered for effect. "I can't seem to place your musical preference and..." I trailed off, unable to finish the blasphemous thought aloud.

"And…what?"

"Never mind." I shook my head. "Just tell me what you like. I can't believe how difficult you are to read."

"I'm not difficult to read at all." He paused while taking a sharp turn with precision. "Music holds no interest to me."

My eyes shot up to his in horror. He actually looked serious. The car came to a smooth halt as I sat there staring at him.

He turned the ignition off and faced me. "Lovely neighborhood."

"Did you mean that?" I gasped.

He scanned the parameter of the car. "No, I didn't mean that. There's a prostitute on the corner. We're in a filthy, run down, ghetto."

I glanced over at the woman on the corner. Oddly enough she stuffed herself into a neon pink, leopard print jumpsuit almost identical to Jessica's. He exaggerated. We weren't in the ghetto. If I ever brought his snobby ass to the actual ghetto he would get a rude awakening.

"I wasn't talking about the neighborhood." I let out a sigh. "Which, by the way, is urban, not ghetto."

"Urban decay," he argued with his snobby nose in the air.

"Urban art," I countered, my arms folded tightly against my chest.

Underground artists all over Seattle flocked to the area. Untapped brilliance surrounded us. He couldn't see it at the moment, but he would. I had other concerns however.

"Did you mean it when you said," I could barely get the words out, "that music held no interest to you?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I prefer silence."

"Be serious." I waved him off. "You must have a favorite song." Perhaps he wasn't human after all.

"Music is background noise I can do without. It all sounds the same to me. I would much rather…" he stopped speaking as he caught my expression. "You look terrified."

"I am terrified. You can't possibly be human." I reached out and pulled his hand into my lap.

With his palm facing up, I placed two fingers on his wrist and closed my eyes as I concentrated on the feel of his pulse. It beat strong and steady. My eyes opened and met his. He watched me with an unreadable expression.

I cleared my throat. "Having no interest in music… is like having no soul."

His face hardened at my words. Clearly, I hit a sore spot. Maybe he had a bad experience with music. How was that even possible?

Edward pulled his hand away as though I had set it on fire. "And you call me judgmental," he spat coolly before turning to open his door. The loud slam that followed shook the whole car.

That did not go well.

I groaned, clunking my fist against my forehead as the scene replayed in my mind. He shared a piece of himself and I told him he had no soul. Bravo, Bella. But really, who preferred silence to music?

Edward.

And not only did I judge him for it, I condemned him to the pits of Hell. At least now I knew why he refused my friendship. I certainly couldn't blame him. In a flash I jumped out of the car. Thankfully, he hadn't made it far. He stood beside a large, ugly dumpster in his chic, Italian suit. The stark contrast created visual poetry, his thick, coppery hair in complete disarray.

As always, he managed to look impeccable. The man could easily become a model. Even with his 'stay away or I'll kill you' eyes, he mesmerized people. The light from the street lamp illuminated his penetrating stare as I walked toward him.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, looking directly into his fiery gaze. "It's just that music means everything to me. I can't imagine not having a connection to it."

He studied me for a moment. "I don't have connections to anything. I suppose that makes me soulless. Good observation." His tone sounded completely detached. I hated it. He sealed himself safely away behind his iron clad walls.

"That's not true." I shook my head firmly. "You're connected to your work. Cullen Publishing means everything to you." I swallowed hard. "I made a horrible observation. The fact that you prefer silence doesn't mean you have no soul."

The more I thought about it I spent a good amount of my time in silence. During massage sessions I could never find my zone without absolute quiet. It helped keep me centered. Did it do the same for him? I knew a quick way to find out. For once I'd have to keep my big mouth shut.

So I stood there, before my boss, beside a dumpster and just let there be silence.

At first it felt strange, but within minutes his demeanor started to loosen, his clenched jaw relaxed slightly and the tension in his shoulders lessened. Then I got it, he didn't just prefer silence, he needed it, in the same way I needed music. While Edward stood stiff as a soldier, I fidgeted, my leg bouncing so fast I kicked the beer bottle beside my foot. The loud noise it made as it smashed against the dumpster snapped us back to the moment.

"Seriously, how observant could a girl that drives a dilapidated old truck and hangs around in ghettos really be?" I teased, with an apologetic grin.

"Dangerously observant." His fingers slid through his hair, forming a rake as he ruffled it atop his head. Piercing green eyes held mine tightly. "When you offered to take me out for dinner I didn't expect it to be at a dumpster. I suppose that makes me a snob?"

"Yes, completely," I huffed. "Dumpster dining is not only cost efficient, but offers great variety. You never know what you might find." I managed to say with a straight face.

"I'll pass." He grimaced, nauseated by the thought.

"Actually." I smirked. "I have other plans for you."

"Do you?" his tone turned sinful. A wicked grin spread across his face. My heart rate doubled instantly. Why I reacted to his dark side so intensely I wish I knew...

"I'm very excited about it. Come on." Without even thinking I grabbed his hand, linking our fingers together.

He didn't pull away.

Yes, it was a small gesture, but it connected us and knowing he didn't make connections made it feel huge.

"Bellissima!" my friend Felix exclaimed clapping his hands together as he rushed toward me. We barely made it through the front door. He kissed me on each cheek and smiled widely. "I knew you would return to me."

I kissed his cheek. "As if I could ever stay away from you." His eyes sparkled with happiness.

Edward stiffened beside me. I tightly gripped his hand as I glanced over at him. He gave poor Felix his most deadly glare, but Felix, not having an angry bone in his body, didn't even notice. A more joyful man did not exist.

"This is my uh… Edward," I blurted out awkwardly, having no idea what to label him.

Felix's eyes shot over to Edward and brightened immediately. "How lovely to meet you Bella's Edward! I am Felix! Welcome to the Vermillion!" he yelled pretty much everything he said with enthusiasm.

Edward gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. That was all Felix was getting. At least his death glare lessened a bit.

"It's the perfect night now! Are you hungry?" he asked, grabbing my free hand.

"Yes, we're starving. Do you have a table available?" I should have called ahead, but I didn't expect it to be so crowded.

He nodded his head vigorously. "Come! Let me feed you!" He pulled me forward and into the crowd.

Felix whistled as he brought us over to my favorite table, a small booth near the gallery. He released my hand and spun around to face us.

"I will return with your food! Show your Edward the gallery while you wait! He will love it!" He kissed both of my cheeks again and then leaned in to kiss Edward.

At warp speed Edward's hand landed firmly in the center of Felix's chest, keeping him at bay. The death glare returned, far more lethal than before. Felix noticed it this time.

"Oh, what a hungry man! I'll get your food right away!" he exclaimed before dashing away to the kitchen.

I turned to face the Lion. "Could you please try to be a little less hostile? Felix is one of the sweetest men I know."

"He tried to kiss me," he barked as though he had been brutally assaulted.

My laughter made him scowl, which just made me laugh harder. "He's Italian, he kisses everybody."

"Not everybody," he grumbled.

"Prude," I teased. "Fine. No kissing, but no death glares either."

He yanked my body closer to his. "If he tries it again he'll get far more than that."

"Oh, stop. It's just a friendly greeting." I lifted up on my toes and placed a soft kiss on his left cheek. I pulled back slightly and placed another one on his right, lingering a few seconds as I fought the urge to lick that chiseled jaw of his. "There. Was that so bad?"

His eyes flickered mischievously, turning my bones to jelly. My gaze shot away before the bastard frazzled me.

"Don't play coy." His lips brushed against my ear. "I'm quite sure you know the difference."

The warmth of his breath on my skin felt fantastic. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You really shouldn't tease a man like me," he warned, adding fuel to my fire.

"Who said anything about teasing?" I had the nerve to say. My heart pounded in my chest like thunder. He brought out a side of me I never knew existed.

"It's highly unprofessional to speak to your boss that way, Ms. Swan." His fingertip lifted my chin so our eyes met.

"You're not my boss here," I reminded him.

"I'm always your boss," he stated with certainty. "Always," he added with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, now that sounds like a challenge." My brow rose. "You really shouldn't challenge a woman like me," I warned with a playful wink before stepping back.

Grinning ear to ear with excitement I guided Edward over to the gallery. It took me a moment to remember why I brought him there. Oddly enough he had yet to release my hand.

His energy weaved with mine. The vibrations held our palms together like magnets. He had a soul, definitely wounded, but not dead. And though I knew he wouldn't admit it, we had a connection. I felt it. As I showed him some of my favorite works he surprised me by seeming interested in a few of them. One in particular caught his eye.

"Exceptional." His laser-like stare soaked in every detail of the painting. "Why would the artist show it here?"

"What's wrong with showing it here?" My brow pinched together at his question. The Vermillion was the ultimate catalyst for creative inspiration.

Edward's gaze lingered over to mine. "A work like this belongs in a genuine art gallery."

My chin tilted to the side. "And when you say genuine do you mean the type of gallery that caters to high society?"

"Yes. Isn't that what an artist aspires to, recognition on the world's stage?" He glanced over his shoulder at the room full of eclectic people surrounding us. "This is hardly such a place."

"Oh my God, you are such a snob," I groaned. "This may shock you, but some artists create sheerly for the love of it, not to impress the upper class. It isn't always about fame and fortune, you know."

He pondered my words a moment. "Perhaps, but why limit yourself? You can create for self fulfillment while reaping monetary success and notoriety." His eyes moved to the painting and then flickered back to mine. "Why do you have such an aversion to financial stability?"

My eyes widened. "I don't have an aversion to financial stability. I have an aversion to the snobbish attitude that goes along with it." How did he not see that?

"Judging people on appearance, grouping them together in one large stereotype and disliking them based on nothing more, that type of attitude?" he asked knowingly.

I nodded eagerly as I realized he did get it. "Yes!" I kept nodding with enthusiasm. "That's exactly the attitude I'm talking about. It disgusts me."

What a relief that he understood. Not that it would change his snobby ways, but at least he wasn't completely oblivious to my feelings.

"And yet, you do the same." An arrogant smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Excuse me?" My voice rose higher than a boiling teapot.

"You form opinions of people in the same manner, quite often actually. Isn't that your definition of a snob?" His cocky tone infuriated me.

I pulled my hand away from his and folded my arms together as I glared at the nerve of him. "Okay, obviously you have no idea what you're talking about. It's completely different. A snob is someone that's wealthy, like you." I pointed a finger at his chest. "That looks down on someone not wealthy, like me."

"Why did you bring me here tonight?" he stared me down accusingly. "Did you want me to stand out, like the uptight fat cat you labeled me as?"

"Of course not." I choked on air. "I brought you here to show you how the other half lives. I wanted you to have fun and discover new things, but instead of appreciating beauty in unexpected places, you question why it would exist in such a place at all...a low class place. I consider that a snob."

His face reddened as he moved in closer to me. He was livid and I didn't care one bit. I told the truth. He didn't scare me and I let him know it by matching his angry glare with one of my own.

"Why did you give your friend's book to me?" he snarled. Our faces were so close together our noses were practically touching.

"Because it's amazing." He knew that already.

"Did he ask you to pass it along to me?"

I exhaled a deep breath as I thought back. "Yes, he politely asked me to pass it along to you. What does that have to do with anything?"

"There are thousands of small publishing companies, many of them in underground artist communities. He could have brought it to any one of them, but he wanted my company to publish it. Why do you think he wanted that?"

My eyes rolled at the obvious answer. "Because you're the top dog in publishing, does that make you feel mighty enough or would you like me to stroke your ego a little more?"

"I would love for you to stroke my ego a little more, but you missed the point."

"Oh, there's a point?" I looked at him with surprise.

"The fact that I have to explain it is concerning," he huffed in exasperation.

My gaze narrowed while I waited for him to continue.

"Small galleries and publishing companies serve as stepping stones. It's a ladder. If you continually shoot for the bottom rung you will spend your entire life being stepped on as others climb above you." He shrugged. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to live that way."

"What if you don't see it as a ladder?" I took a step back.

"How else could you possibly see it?" He huffed in frustration.

"I see it more like a box of crayons," I explained with a faint smile.

His eyes roamed my face with amusement. "You're not serious."

"I'm very serious. It's the diversity of life that makes it unique. If you use only one crayon because you consider all the rest inferior, you limit yourself greatly." I shrugged. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to live in a world with just one color. Greed stifles creativity."

He moved in closer. "Your crayon fetish is disturbing." He tilted his head, watching me thoughtfully. "Is that how you actually see the world?"

"Pretty much. I have absolutely no desire to climb up a ladder full of greedy people. I'd rather color vibrant pictures."

Edward stayed silent a few moments. "While that's a very…sweet philosophy, once you've evolved past elementary school it no longer applies. It's simply unrealistic."

I stuck my tongue out in response, then laughed at his scowl. "Okay, we'll compromise."

"How could you possibly compromise such a thing?" he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Easy." I grabbed hold of his hand. "You create the ladder before you climb it. Instead of stomping on people to get to the top you help each other up. As a team you make the journey a priceless work of art along the way."

He looked speechless. I couldn't tell what that meant, before I got a chance to find out Felix swung his long arm around my shoulder.

"Bellisima! Dinner is served! Please come before it gets cold."

"That wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I expected." Edward placed his folded napkin on the table. He scraped his plate clean, so I knew he enjoyed the meal.

"You seriously need to work on your complimenting skills." I shook my head at him.

"I don't give compliments often," he stated the obvious.

"Let's practice." I paused with a grin. "We'll start off slow. What did you like about the meal?"

"It didn't taste foul," he replied dryly.

"So that's a good thing. You had a good meal." My smile brightened. "Bella, I had a good meal," I mocked his deep voice, lacking its velvety smoothness. "See how easy that is?"

"The meal bordered on average, my expectations were low." His eyes scanned the room judgmentally.

I sighed. "Must you make everything so negative?"

"Must you make everything so positive?" he countered, equally frustrated.

"Let's try this again. I'm not giving up." I bit my thumbnail as I concentrated. "Can you think of anything about me that doesn't bother you?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Are you fishing for compliments?"

My eyes rolled. "No, definitely not. How about I start? I find you highly intelligent." I gestured to him. "Your turn."

He scratched the back of his neck as he let out a puff of air. "I find you highly persuasive."

"Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment." Lifting my glass of wine, I kept my gaze on him. "I find you a talented kickboxer."

He moved in closer to me. "I find you a talented dry humper."

I choked on my wine, causing several patrons to look at me in alarm. After recovering the ability to breath I held up a hand. "I'm okay, wrong pipe." My boss sat there grinning wickedly.

"You are evil," I whisper shouted from across the table.

"Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment." He tipped his wine glass at me.

"Alright, you want to play dirty, Mr. Cullen?" I challenged with my most mischievous grin. "I find you a talented boob muncher."

He coughed on his wine as I smirked triumphantly.

My gloating gaze froze when it reached his. The look in his eyes nearly forced me to crawl across the table, climb into his lap and show him the full extent of my dry humping skills, and I had skills.

Slowly he scraped his thumb across his bottom lip, not generally a sexual act, but it caused my hips to tingle.

He cleared his throat. "I find you irresistible when you look at me like that."

I swallowed hard. "My hips are tingling," I blurted out. My filter disappeared, definitely not good.

"Are they?" He seemed fascinated by this information.

I nodded slowly.

He snapped his fingers in the air, but it didn't work like that there. We didn't have a personal wait staff. I never saw the place so packed. The waiters whizzed around the room, far too busy busting their asses to notice a finger snap. Edward looked appalled when no one came running.

Such a spoiled Tyrant.

"Finger snapping doesn't work here." I held back a laugh.

I knew exactly what he wanted…dessert. I promised to feed it to him. Actually, I agreed to feed him a full meal. Just before our food was served I discovered he literally expected me to feed him in public. I nearly fell off my chair.

Somehow I managed to negotiate working up to a full meal. Tonight we would start with dessert.

Although he didn't know it yet, I decided to cook for him next week. Feeding him dessert with people watching would be risky enough. No way could I feed him a full meal...in public. With my spastic hips I would get us arrested.

Felix came by to check on us a few minutes later. Dessert at the Vermillion was a distinct experience. As a haven for artists the food strived to appeal to all of your senses.

My friend eyed my boss and me carefully before he said to Edward, "You must be a very special man. What can I possibly offer you as sweet as this?" He raised my hand and kissed it lightly.

Edward's eyes darkened as he watched his lips brush against my skin. "You can offer us privacy."

A warm smile lit up Felix's face. "Ah, YES!" he shouted, startling me. "Come! You'll be very pleased." He lifted me up by the hand and pulled me from the table. He guided us into a private room, small and meant for intimate dining.

Definitely not a good idea.

Edward's strong presence loomed behind me. I wondered what he thought of this. Before I had a chance to speak Felix kissed my cheeks with gusto.

"I'll have Amaline make you very, very happy." He pulled away from me and smiled over at Edward. I turned to see his reddened face glaring back at my kind hearted friend.

He chuckled. "Bellisima, your lover does not like to share. I cannot blame him. I will leave you, but I always return. There's still plenty of time before we create together!"

In a flash he disappeared.

My eyes ran across the room. A plush, over sized futon took up most of the space, a large coffee table sat in front of it. Dimmed lighting and soft, sensual music created a romantic vibe. The candles scattered around gave off an enchantingly sweet scent; the perfect oasis for lovers looking to escape the crowd.

I could do bad things in this room.

My thoughts flew all over the place. I had a rational side, of course. The man was my boss. Not only that, but he told me, quite frankly, that he was incapable of forming connections. Yet, he made my hips tingle. His smile made me melt, every time. I giggled and blushed like a fool over him and his dark sinister side never failed to make my heart race with excitement. I had never felt so conflicted. I turned to ask Edward if he wanted to go back to the dining room and found a very pretty redhead with her hands on his shoulders.

He abruptly swatted her away like a gnat.

"Forgive me, Sir, I was going to hang your jacket so it doesn't get wrinkled," she stammered apologetically.

"That won't be necessary." His eyes blazed directly into hers with intense anger.

"I'm sorry." She gasped in terror, her face turned pale.

I let out a small sigh. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. He hates people."

"Oh," she said through widened eyes.

She looked terrified. I honestly didn't get it. Why had I never reacted that way?

"P-please make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back with your dessert. Felix said to b-bring you the special. I hope that's alright?" The poor girl stuttered and shook from a single look. Such a bizarre effect he had on people.

"That sounds wonderful," I replied with a warm smile. Jesus, she was ready to burst into tears. The second she slipped out the door my eyes shot over to Edward. "She is petrified of you."

"Then she probably should have kept her hands off me." He shrugged with indifference.

"She was only doing her job. Would it have been unbearable for you to let her take your jacket and politely thank her?"

He stepped in closer to me. "Is that what a nice guy would do?"

"Yes."

"I'm not a nice guy." His eyes locked onto mine.

"And you prefer it that way?" I asked, holding our stare.

"Yes," he answered instantly.

"Why?" I wondered aloud, would I ever figure this man out?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We already covered this. People repulse me. I generally manage to tolerate them, but I do not allow them to touch me." His face was so beautiful, yet his words so ugly.

"I repulse you?" The look in his eyes gave me my answer, but I wanted him to say it.

"Obviously not." He stated firmly.

"I'm honored," I teased with an overly grateful expression.

"Perhaps you should be scared." He removed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder.

I snorted at his warning. "Why would I be scared?"

"Because I'm not a nice guy, Bella," he sounded so sincere it caught me off guard. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I just stood there speechless as he strolled across the room.

Our traumatized waitress cleared her throat beside me. "Dessert is served. Please r-ring that b-bell if you need me." She pointed to a shiny, silver bell on the table and scurried off.

So much for showing Edward how the other half lived. He managed to get exactly the type of treatment he was accustomed to. The table held a cascading fountain of chocolate surrounded by various treats for dipping, a bottle of chilled champagne sat off to the side. Maybe Edward was right. Perhaps I should be scared.

But I wasn't.

I accepted my masochistic tendencies long ago. However, in my defense, I didn't believe in fairytales. Edward was honest. He didn't pretend to be Prince Charming. I respected that about him. He sat on the futon watching me, his penetrating stare gripping me all over. It drew me to him. Walking toward my boss I repeatedly reminded myself not to kiss him.

He had to make the first move.

The first move was crucial. I certainly wasn't making it this time, no matter how tempting he was laid back on those fluffy cushions with his ruffled hair and dark, brooding, sex eyes. He looked up at me as I stood before him.

"Are you hungry?" Right or wrong I loved teasing the man.

"Famished." His eyes devoured me like a meal.

"Do you want me to feed you?" I asked sweetly.

He pulled me onto his lap in one swift move, the sheer force taking my breath away.

"Until I beg you to stop," he whispered in my ear menacingly, causing me to break out in goosebumps all over.

Straddling his lap in a tiny denim skirt and ripped tights, I pulled back slightly. His warm breath on my skin was going straight to my hips. Lord knew once I lost control of them all bets were off. I swear the man could speak with his eyes.

"Kiss me," they demanded.

My lips moved closer to his, wanting nothing more than to violate his mouth until I passed out from lack of oxygen. Just as our lips nearly touched I remembered my vow.

He had to kiss me first. What a stupid vow.

Our heavy breathing filled my ears. His fingers ran up my legs slowly until they reached my hips. He gripped them firmly, holding me in place. As if I was going anywhere…not likely.

I looked over my shoulder at the fondue. Oh, the wicked, wicked thoughts. Reaching out I picked up a long steel fork and stabbed a fresh strawberry with it. I contorted my body to dip it into the stream of chocolate, carefully guiding it to his lips. He licked every bit off before sucking the plump strawberry into his mouth. Warm, chocolaty goodness coated his lips.

"More," he demanded gruffly.

I swallowed hard and turned back to the fondue. This time I stabbed a marshmallow, covering it completely before bringing it to his mouth, eager to watch him lick it clean.

While his tongue moved, his fingers kneaded my hips, causing them to stir to life. Shamelessly I started grinding against him as I watched him do obscene things to a very lucky marshmallow.

Something flashed in his eyes right before his hand moved to the back of my head, guiding my lips toward his. The slow descent nearly drove me insane.

I dropped the fork beside me, never removing my eyes from his.

The moment our lips finally met I nibbled, licked and sucked every last bit of the sweet, sticky marshmallow I found on them. The man was delicious, in every sense of the word.

Control was no longer relevant.

I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer to me. His firm hand remained on the back of my head holding me in place. My mouth welcomed his chocolate coated tongue right in, as though it was exactly where it belonged.

Not only was he delicious, he was talented, extremely talented. Kissing had never been much of an aphrodisiac to me, yet I definitely heard myself moaning and I don't mean a quiet whimper.

Just when I thought I might combust my hips went full on Shakira in heat.

He grabbed on to them with a vice like grip, easing back against the cushion bringing me down with him. My skirt rode up a little further. The cool air against my newly exposed skin felt good. The noises coming from my mouth would have totally humiliated me had I been of sound mind.

I wasn't a dead fish in bed, but I never sounded like a porn star…over a damn kiss.

Biting down on his bottom lip caused him to release a groan so primal I paused mid hump. I had to hear it again, so I bit down on his top lip even harder. He growled deep and husky, the sound truly lion like, though not nearly a roar. I wanted him to roar.

His eyes ignited as the bulge in his pants became rock solid. My lips moved all along his jaw biting my way down to his neck, like a horny little vampire I nibbled away. His deep moans of pleasure added fuel to my fire.

When his hips met mine I discovered his skills went beyond kissing. I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensations. My groans turned into a desperate whimper. Our lips met again and he bit down, much harder than me. He followed the same path, down my jaw, biting almost savagely along the way. Pain and pleasure combined into ecstasy as he devoured my neck, his hands roamed up my back beneath my t shirt. His lips suddenly left my neck. My eyes flew open in need. Edward stared straight at me looking absolutely feral.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded.

"More," I managed to stammer out in a barely audible whisper. "More," I repeated again a little clearer. If I could I would have painted it on the wall in chocolate.

In a blink my t-shirt was on the floor. His beautiful green eyes focused solely on my black satin bra. His hands stilled on my hips so firmly I couldn't grind against him. Edward held me in place, directly against his very prominent bulge. It throbbed beneath me, teasing my body relentlessly.

The man was trying to kill me.

My chest heaved up and down rhythmically as I did my best to regain control. Other than the few groans and the growl I got from him he remained cool as ever, while I became a panting, humping, sex starved beggar….all from a kiss.

I wanted to rattle his cage, hear him roar; make him lose a bit of his militant control. I brought my fingertips to the front clasp of my bra. His eyes widened in anticipation, sending a tingle all over my body. Why did I so desperately want to unhinge the man?

At that precise moment the good girl in me poked through. "I don't do casual sex." The words spilled out, but they were true.

His eyes slowly dragged up to my face. "What are your expectations?"

What the hell were my expectations? I had no clue. Who could even think straight with him throbbing beneath me, breathing his warm delicious breath on my chest?

"Honesty and respect," I began talking, just blurting out whatever came to mind. "I'm not looking for Prince Charming. I have no fairytale delusions." He seemed relieved by that.

"Will you remain in my employment?" This seemed a genuine concern for him.

"Yes." I nodded. "We're consenting adults. I can separate my business and personal life."

My job didn't entail promotions, so I wouldn't feel the stigma of sleeping with the boss to get ahead. Honestly, I saw my position as more freelance than corporate monkey, at least that's what I told myself to sleep better at night.

"That certainly won't be a problem for me," he replied with conviction. Had he done this before?

"What are your expectations?" I realized that was of equal importance.

"I don't share," he stated firmly. "It would be reciprocal," he answered the question before it left my lips.

"I'm monogamous by nature," I told him truthfully and then paused before asking, "Have you ever done this before?"

He snorted. "Did you expect to take my virginity, Ms. Swan?"

"Of course not." Shaking my head, I laughed. "No, I meant have you ever…engaged in sexual fulfillment with an employee before?"

"Absolutely not." He paused in contemplation. "In fact, I'm fully aware it's completely unwise for me to fulfill such needs…with you."

Edward's lips were blood red from being thoroughly savaged by mine. "It's definitely unwise," I agreed. "Do you want to leave it at this?"

Dark green eyes lingered down to my cleavage, shamelessly ogling my goods. He was such a boob man. My fingertips still clasped the front of my bra. Edward stared a few moments before his eyes shot up to mine. I expected to find turmoil and conflict, but I found resolution instead.

"If you knew what I wanted you would run out that door." His eyes flickered to the door and back to mine.

"Are you trying to scare me?" My head tilted to the side curiously.

"No." He ran a finger beneath my chin. "If I wanted to scare you I wouldn't need to try."

"Said the big, tough, Lion," I teased with a playful grin. "Does scaring young girls turn you on?"

"Quite the opposite." He gave me a grin of his own. "Meek, cowering, young girls are highly unattractive. I much prefer persuasive, unconventional, dry humpers."

"You seriously need to work on your complimenting skills," I laughed. "Lucky for you I seem to prefer snobby, conventional, boob munchers."

"So I hear." His cocky tone made me want to smack him.

"Don't be so smug." My eyes narrowed as I moved in closer. "I could make you roar without even breaking a sweat."

"Is that a challenge?" His brow rose.

"No." I shook my head. "That's a promise." I leaned in and bit down on his earlobe, real hard. I bit all along the outer shell of his ear. His breathing got heavier, which turned me on more than it should have.

I pulled away slightly and saw my reflection in his heated gaze. Damn he had me fired up. After a few moments of lustful staring he sat up, crushing his mouth against mine.

Kissing Edward was hotter than any sexual act I ever experienced. It had to be the licking and biting or maybe it was the savage way he fed from my mouth. Whatever it was, holding in my moans became unbearably painful. Something had to be done. Abruptly I broke the kiss and pushed him back against the futon. Jesus, just looking at him nearly gave me an orgasm.

Those damn eyes, they oozed sex.

I popped the clasp of my bra open; the pretty satin cups fell off to the side, exposing me to his scorching gaze.

"Exceptional," he spoke to my breasts, his hands immediately coming up to cup them.

"Ungh," I garbled unintelligibly, not expecting his touch to feel so good. I had to close my eyes. I couldn't look at him. My hips started moving. What was he doing with those fingers?

My breathing became erratic. I managed to keep myself from panting too heavily, until I felt his lips latch onto my nipple. My eyes fluttered open. I watched as he twirled that talented tongue around the edge before sucking it into his mouth just like one of the strawberries.

The most obscene moan I ever heard erupted from my mouth. For the sake of my own sanity I tried to look away, but I just couldn't. He bit down and my hands dove into his hair.

He released the nipple with a loud pop and looked up at me. "You are delicious."

I wanted to thank him for the compliment, but I couldn't speak, breathing was my main focus. He leaned forward and dipped his finger in the chocolate, bringing it over to my glistening nipple, coating it completely.

"I'm still hungry," he said to my breast, which he held firmly in his hand.

How was he able to speak so clearly? I watched intensely as he bit roughly all around my breast, the warm chocolate dripped down to meet his lips. He licked from the bottom all the way up taking a thick line of chocolate onto his tongue as he traveled a straight path up to my nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and I came undone, in every sense of the word.

A vile slew of obscenities burst from my lips, followed by a praise to God, then some very ungodly moaning. A few flashes of light and my entire body tensed in the most powerful release I ever felt. I nearly passed out from the force of it. My body went limp, falling against his.

"Jesus Christ!" I panted.

"I prefer if you call me Edward," he replied coolly.

Before I could respond there was a loud knock on the door. "BELLISIMA! TIME TO COME!" Felix yelled through the door.

My eyes widened. "COMING!" I yelled back immediately, hoping he wouldn't open the door. I was such a mess.

"I believe you already came," Edward noted dryly, biting the base of my neck.

Damn it...that felt good. I squirmed against him. "You are pure evil," I cooed with a sated smile.

He continued nipping at my neck. I continued squirming. Good Lord, I was getting heated all over again. So much for making him roar, I could barely function. He was definitely trying to kill me. I clasped my bra closed. He had licked my body totally clean. There wasn't a trace of chocolate on me.

The man was thorough.

"We need to go create with Felix." I stretched my arms up high, arching my back like a cat.

The smile plastered on my face must have looked ridiculous, but I didn't care. My body tingled, bursting with a bubbly feeling.

"I'd rather stay here and create with you." He licked a bit of chocolate off his finger just before his mouth claimed mine.

Did I mention he had a deliciously talented tongue?

Not only did it make me forget about Felix, it made me forget my own name. I had to regain some sort of control. It took plenty of willpower, but I leaned away from him.

"Down boy," I scolded playfully.

I jumped off his lap, standing before him in my skirt and bra doing my best to catch my breath. Looking at him didn't help. It made me want to dive back onto his lap and do everything in my power to make him roar, but Felix was waiting and I knew Edward wasn't a minute man. From the small taste I got I had no doubt he would be an insatiable lover, absolutely the death of me.

Spotting my shirt on the floor, I grabbed it, quickly pulling it over my head. Immediately he pouted like a child that lost his favorite toy.

"You are such a boob man." I shook my head, laughing.

He pulled me back down to his lap. "You have the most exquisite breasts ever created. They shouldn't be covered. It's offensive to their beauty."

"You really are getting much better at complimenting." I smiled wide, feeling giddy.

"That wasn't a compliment. I'm stating the truth," he said, completely serious.

"You're stating an opinion and I thank you for the compliment." I pulled the hem of my shirt down and attempted to unsex my sexed up hairdo.

"No. I'm stating a fact," he argued, stubbornly. "I dare anyone to dispute it."

"You are impossible." I ran my fingers through his thick, beautiful hair. "Must you always get your way?"

He glanced at my t shirt as though it were an enemy. "Apparently not."

"I can't walk around topless, society frowns upon that sort of thing." He was still pouting. I kissed his lips not being able to help myself. "Only you get to see them. It's an exclusive club. You're the only member."

He smirked, liking the sound of that. I knew he would.

"Come on, we have to go before Felix comes back. There is an actual reason I brought you here tonight, other than showing you my boobs." I quickly lifted myself off his lap before I lost what little willpower I had.

Although Edward didn't enjoy the real reason I brought him to the Vermillion quite as much as the dessert, he pleasantly surprised me. One of my favorite artists was in town and I never missed a chance to work with him. He had the most unique style of creating his masterpieces.

It was a group effort.

In my head I imagined several scenarios of how Edward would handle being a mere participant in a large group of extremely diverse people. Don't get me wrong, he didn't actually speak or acknowledge anyone other than me, but he worked as part of the team and that made me want to hump the living hell out of him.

For years I was enamored by Garrett Higman's Illuvium Art. His inspiration came from nature's patterns, waves, ripples in sand, and folds of mountains.

A massive black canvas was laid out on a giant table in the middle of the room. Large measuring cups filled with different color paints lined the perimeter. Working together, a room full of people poured the paint out watching it flow, at times guiding it, but mostly letting it take its natural form, which always resulted in a stunning creation.

Art could be so deeply personal; with Illuvium art everyone made their mark on the piece. In the end it took many hands to create. Usually I dove right in, losing myself in an expressive zone. Instead I found myself watching Edward, his brow crinkled as his eyes scanned the canvas, soaking in the spontaneity of the process.

To me he was the most fascinating thing in the room and that frightened me.

What was I getting myself into? Brushing the fear aside for the moment I joined in, pouring my paint out onto the canvas, watching as it flowed directly toward Edward's, splashing together in a vibrant burst of colors, like liquid fireworks.

How ironic.

There were people gathered all around us, pouring beside me, above me, at every angle and yet my paint flowed straight to his, as though its path was clear. I was probably reading way too much into it, but I had always been a strong believer in fate. Staring down at our own private piece of canvas I began to wonder what exactly fate had in store for me. As if he could hear my thoughts Edward's eyes lifted to mine.

I had a feeling I would find out pretty damn soon.

A/N:

Next up:

Okay, so this chapter did not go where I expected. Edroar took over and the next thing I knew Bella's shirt was on the floor. My plan was to include the talent show, but those two had other ideas. So, I went with the flow…of chocolate and let them tell the tale their way. They promised it will be in the next chapter.

Missing You:

My father in law passed away in February. It was very sudden and I'm still learning how to live in my little corner of the world without his bright spark lighting the way. The fandom has been so supportive and Edroar of course would not be ignored. He gave me some grieving time and then made me get my ass back to work, such a bossy Lion. He actually kept me sane on more than one occasion, so I'm grateful to him for that. Just don't let him know it. He's cocky enough.

That's all for now folks. Let me know what you think…it makes my hips tingle.