Chapter 1

The little chime of the email notification on my Yahoo messenger alerted me that Carlisle had responded back to my email. Part of me was nervous to go look, afraid he had changed his mind; but once I looked at his reply I saw it was further from the truth. He was impatiently awaiting my arrival. I was going to have to give a big thank you to Mike for circulating my name and helping me get my first massage therapy job with only being out of school a little over two months. He had waited until I had all of my proper licensing.

Carlisle Masen had been well known here in Forks. My father and he had gone to high school together, but my father was more of the straight laced, be the outstanding citizen; while Carlisle was the rebel. Or so my father says. He never went into too much detail as did no one else in town. But I had met Carlisle a few times and he was nothing but gracious towards me. It was his sons that had me on edge somewhat.

No one ever spoke their names and Carlisle never spoke of his family. The two boys were hardly ever in town and had been sent to a private school in Seattle. So I had zero interaction with them, but that was soon going to change. I would be having intimate contact with them, but only on a professional level. The thrill of being in close proximity with a rock star was not going to cloud my professionalism; not matter how beautiful they were.

My bags and massage supplies had already been packed up in anticipation. Charlie's graduation present to me, a 2004 silver Honda Accord, was sitting out in front of the house waiting for me to decide when I would leave to make the drive to Portland, Oregon. Carlisle said he would have a hotel room waiting for me at the Marriott Portland City Center-fully paid for.

Charlie wasn't exactly thrilled about this job, but there was nothing for me in Forks, Washington. All my friends had gotten married within the first three years of being out of high school, and Jessica and Angela already had children. Just the thought of marriage and children right now made my chest get tight and my stomach roil with nausea. I wasn't exactly what you would call beautiful. Someone one time called me "classically plain". There was no other description that could have been better. My features were ordinary- pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes, nothing exotic or striking- even though my name meant beautiful, Bella. The last name wasn't any better, Swan that is; one of the most graceful birds in the world. That definitely was not me, beautiful and graceful.

Sighing from aggravation, I left my post from in front of my laptop and packed my backpack with last minute items-Ipod, Blackberry, shampoo and conditioner, and other toiletries. Once the backpack was filled to its gills, curiosity bubbled up in me. I minimized the Windows Media Player that was playing Theory of a Deadman and double clicked on my Firefox. In the Google search box I typed in Loxley Screws and instantly pulled up several links and photos of the group. I clicked on the band's official website and was immediately greeted with a lovely picture of Cullen Masen. How could a human being have the beauty of the Pagan gods that were written about in mythology? His eyes were a cross between new spring leaves and green Jello, skin so perfectly white like that of alabaster and lips that looked soft and so very full, and that hair. That was sex hair, not just a quick roll in the sheets sex hair but two hour ripping the sheets off the bed and slamming each other up against the wall sex hair. There was a tightening now in my pelvic area at that mental image.

I wasn't a virgin but the few times Mike and I had been together didn't exactly qualify me as a professor on sex. Mike had only liked missionary and soft kissing before hand. I knew that I had had vanilla sex. No passion. It sure didn't make me grasp the side of the mattress and sheets in result of the excruciating intense pleasure. No, Mike was done in a total of five minutes, even if I hadn't gotten off. So that was the extent of my sex life. Mike was also no Cullen Masen. Mike was just like the sex he offered, boring and vanilla. His generic blonde hair and blue eyes were like wall paper, they blended in with the scenery.

The day before Jessica had come over. When she walked in, she had a plastic Walgreen's bag tucked under her left arm and had a guilty smile on her face. I rolled my eyes and sighed with irritation. Her right hand slowly released the death grip her left arm had on the bag and shoved it into my chest. I felt several box like items in the bag and grew thirty shades of red once I looked inside. There were three different condom boxes-Magnums, Ultra Thin with spermicidal and Trojan colors. Her hands instantly went up in front of her.

"Now, just wait a minute. You're going to out on tour with all these guys. It's best to be prepared if something does happen. It's better to safe than sorry. From what I hear, once Cullen starts pulling on the charm, no girl can resist." she said with a concerned look.

"Well, I'm going to be out there doing a job. This is not some vacation I'm going on. It is my first professional massage job and it's the last thing I want to happen to make me look unprofessional. Besides, he has millions of willing groupies. He will have no use for me and the only use I will have of him is being able to add him to my clientele folder." I shot back in defense.

Jessica looked at me with left brow cocked up in disagreement. But she left me be.

Now the plastic Walgreen's bag was screaming at me to be packed up with the rest of my belongings. What if Jessica was right and I did meet some guy or guys out there? What if I wanted to have some fun of my own? Yeah right! I was never brazen and bold. But some nagging voice in the back of my brain was telling me to pack-all three boxes, all one hundred and eight condoms. Also it was unlikely any guy would need the Magnums, but whatever, they were coming along anyway. Would I even want to have sex with a guy that needed a Magnum? Would I be able to handle it?

A knock on my bedroom door slammed me back into real time and I knew it was Charlie. I hurriedly stashed the condoms into my clearly over crowded backpack and ran to open the door so Charlie wouldn't start getting suspicious. He gave me a curious look when I yanked the door open and was breathing heavily and my hair was all over my face. I didn't want to know what he was thinking.

"Bells, I just came up here to spend a few minutes with you before you took off," he sputtered out.

"Ok. Come on in." I moved out the way and he slowly walked in, roving his eyes over the disorder that was my bedroom. He cleared his throat in slight irritation and looked over at me.

"I see you're leaving this pig sty for me to clean up. You know you're not going to have that luxury on a tour bus. There will be other pigs there rolling around in their own shit without you adding to it. And that is another thing I want to talk to you about. I'm also sure Carlisle has changed over the years, especially since he's had children. It's not I don't trust him; it's that oldest boy of his I don't trust. So, I'm handing you this bottle of pepper spray, just in case, you know…something is tried that you don't want to happen."

"Dad, oh god…please no! I know about sex already and the consequences of such said act. I can handle myself."

"I know you can handle yourself, but can that boy handle himself. I've heard…things, Bella. Things that I don't know if they're true or not, but nonetheless, things I don't like the sound of. Please be careful and leave every way I can contact you…even Carlisle's email address and cell phone number."

I sighed and scrubbed my face with hands and nodded in agreement. Charlie clapped his hands and went to sit down on my bed.

"So, are you getting excited about this being your first job?"

It was after nine p.m. when Charlie finally left and causing me to have a late start. My laptop was the very last thing I packed. I changed into black velour track pants and a white tank top with the Arm and Hammer chick on it saying "Chicks Kiss Ass." My black and white Chucks completed my traveling attire. Charlie hung onto me as long as he possibly could till I snaked my way out of his arms. There were tears he was fighting to not let over flow and it made me get misty eyed.

Once I was on the 101 and well within two hours being outside of Forks, my black Blackberry Storm started playing Marilyn Manson's "Beautiful People" and saw it was Carlisle calling. I turned down my radio and pressed the send button.

"Hello, Carlisle. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Bella, things are fine. I was just calling to let you know that you're room number was 200, right next to mine. So, if you have any problems, I'll be next door. Have you left Forks, yet?"

"Yes, I'm about two hours outside of Forks on 101. I have my GPS on with the address to the hotel plugged in, so I shouldn't have any problems with getting lost."

"That's good. We are all looking forward to having you on board, especially the band. Well, I will talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight, Bella."

I pressed the end button and let a out breath I was holding.

The drive was quiet and my car purred like a kitten. I had my Sirius radio on and listened to various hard rock groups. I let out a laugh when Loxley Screw's song "Ride the Bullet" came on. I wonder what Cullen meant by "ride the bullet". I didn't want to imagine. They sounded like early nineties Motley Crue, Nine Inch Nails and early eighties Goth. Cullen's voice was a mixture of Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails and Ville Valo of HIM and his lyrical content was of HIM and Type O Negative "October Rust" album. In other words, love and sex were the main content of their songs, with love being the main subject. For someone who appeared to be a manwhore, he sure sang about quite often.

From the bits and pieces I have gathered about the family, Cullen never knew his mother. She was killed in a car accident before he was even a year old, leaving Carlisle to raise him alone for two years before he remarried Esme, who was a florist back in Forks. Carlisle and she kept a low profile in town, but he was mainly out on the road with his sons. I can count on one hand how times I had seen Cullen and Emmett in person when they were scarcely in Forks. They spent most of their time in either Seattle or Vancouver. And that was all I knew of them.

I'm guessing what was about thirty minutes after Carlisle had called me; I received a text message that read his name. It was dangerous to read and text while driving, but this could have been important. So, I slowed my speed on since the road was desolate and pressed read button. My car about spun off the road and into a ditch when I read the words the text message said. I quickly found my bearings and pulled over on the side of the road, staring at the screen on my phone.

"I can't wait to inhale your scent and taste your skin." Those words bore holes into my corneas and brain. That couldn't have been Carlisle. There no was way. So I texted back, "I know this isn't Carlisle, who is this?"

"You will see, in due time." Fuck…..games were being played already. I took in a few deep breaths and slowly accelerated back onto the 101 that was going to quickly turn into US-12.