I don't own any of these characters. I simply like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

-The Paranoid-

Baby mystic lady
you do own my night
put my dogs to fright
yea yea yea yea yea

riding sliding sorceress
in your dungarees
got me on my knees

the people in your life are cruel
keep on riding that hard road
the lovers in your life are few
keep on riding that hard road

Mystic Lady by

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Edward Cullen, my hot as hell yet extremely off limits junior editor and fake boyfriend, just rubbed his hard on against me…there!

It was awful…in the best, oh my word the boy is big, best kind of way. It was wrong…in a sexy, oh my word did you see his face as he moaned, sexy kind of way. It was scandalous…in a, I haven't been touched down there is so long and you're doing it soooo good, scandalous kind of way. It was…it just was…shit, shit, shit.

I stare at my face in the bathroom mirror as I try to figure out just how in hell I'm going to look him in the eyes again, not to mention sleep in the same bed. The man has got me reeling. I thought he hated me. Can one be turned on by something you hate? I think so… His eyes…his breathy moan…the hardness between my legs…it's all proof that the man wanted me.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. The last thing I expected, the very last thing I wanted, was for this to turn into something other than a simple, professional business deal. I was under the impression that it would be easy to be around him so much. That we would be able to act like a couple with no worries of him accidentally getting emotionally attached to me. Not that I consider myself immune to his charms, it's just different for me. I haven't had the need for a man in such a long time…well, since Jacob actually, and though Edward possesses some very alluring attributes, resisting his physical appeal is something I've been doing successfully for two years now.

I shake my head as I run water into my hands, watching the effervescent substance pool in my hands before I lift it to my face and rub vigorously. He obviously got excited when I spelled that damned word. I knew I shouldn't have, it was rather obvious that I didn't mean cat, at all. But he started it with his ridiculously inappropriate words. I never would have imagined that spelling that word would get him into such a tizzy. Edward Cullen obviously has a thing for dirty words. Whether he likes them in general or specifically when a woman uses them, I have no idea, but the fact that they make him a little horny is rather clear.

I'm simply going to blame his physical reaction on the word. I dry my face and take a deep breath as I step back and look at my reflection once again. Yes, it was definitely the word. I steel myself before I reach for the bathroom door leading into my bedroom. He has never shown any other form of interest in me, and although he seems more comfortable with our little charade than I am, he has never overstepped, accept for the first night, which he explained to me and I decided to let it go. No, what happened tonight was simply an inevitable reaction between two grown ups, which may or may not find each other attractive, exposed to such a volatile situation. Almost like Stockholm syndrome.

I open the bathroom door and freeze as I step into the bedroom.

Holy freakin' shit.

There, lying on my bed surrounded in darkness is nothing less than the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I swear I'm starting to feel like he's doing this on purpose. Edward has his arms folded behind his head. His legs are stretched out in front of him and folded at the ankles, and he's wearing nothing other than a pair of plaid draw string pants. No shirt. Nothing. Just smooth skin over hard muscle, defined pecks, ripped abs, distinct V-trail and treacherously, my mind immediately wonders back to the feeling of those narrow hips, perfectly encased between my thighs. I must look like a woman who hasn't had anything to eat or drink in weeks, because my lips are slightly parted, my breathing is heavy and I'm sure I'm drooling all over my chin. My eyes wonder back to his face, and as expected, I find his lips pulled into a cocky grin. Prick.

I shut my mouth abruptly and clear my throat, desperate to find anything to say that will end this torturous embarrassment.

"I hope you don't mind." He speaks, throwing my internal monologue off and forcing me to look at his full mouth. Note that I have now started to positively describe his mouth. This is so bad. "I used the other bathroom to shower. Didn't know how long you would be." At this his grin grows even bigger and I no longer care for the fullness of his mouth, other than wanting to slap it shut.

"That's fine." I reply with a shrug, desperately trying to gain some ground. "Next time you should probably just use mine, to keep up appearances, of course."

"Of course." He nods solemnly, but I can still see the glee in his eyes. His obnoxiously stunning green orbs travel from my face down my body, and I'm suddenly aware of just how naked I am, his eyes burning a trail wherever they stray. I contemplated my wardrobe for long moments before I finally got dressed in boy shorts and an old Jimi Hendrix t-shirt. I generally tend to sleep in tank tops, but they seemed to revealing for the occasion. I curse the fact that I don't own flannel pants, or in this case, sweat pants and tops that would cover every inch of my skin, but I simply cannot sleep in layers and layers of clothing seeing as they always get tangled around my legs and frustrate me to no end. I prefer stacking the bed with blankets and comforters instead.

His eyes are hungrily focused somewhere in the region of my legs, and I suddenly have the intense desire to sleep in the bathroom. I reach my hand towards the light switch in stead and flick off the bathroom light, veiling my body and his in darkness.

"Jimi Hendrix?" I hear him ask from the bed as I carefully make my way towards it.

"I love his Are you Experienced album." I answer without thinking, because I do…love the album.

"Mhhh." He responds softly, and his voice is like honey dripping in the blackness of the room and I'm instantly irritated with how smooth he acts in situations like these, whereas I feel like cringing into a pile of pathetic humiliation. "I'm a fan of Electric Ladyland."

"Yes, that's great too." I answer with a small smile despite my growing anxiety.

"Is this your side?" He asks as I lift the covers, and he must have stood up while I was walking towards the bed, because the covers lift easily and his voice sounds further away. My eyes have slightly adjusted to the darkness and I see him standing beside the bed, on the opposite side as me looking tall and lean and just breathtaking. I swallow thickly as I busy myself with the covers, steeling glances at Edward as he quietly observes my frantic movements.

My grandmother used to say that it is unfair towards woman for God to make some men as beautiful as they are. Beauty is an attribute a woman cannot survive without she would sing-song, whereas a man only needs to be manly, well mannered and devoted and he could have any woman on this planet. It was always my opinion that a woman only had to be smart and the world would be her playground. Standing opposite Edward as we're about to get into my bed…together…I finally understand what my grandmother was on about, because no amount of brains, no amount of smarts and no amount of education would ever have prepared me for the sight of this man.

"No." I finally manages to answer, forcing my eyes away from his lean figure. The man is built for sin. "I usually sleep all over the bed, so it really doesn't matter which side I get in on."

"So I can expect some tossing and turning?" He asks with a soft chuckle as we both warily lower ourselves to the bed. The silence of the room and the slight illumination of the moonlight through the drapes are making all conversation seem so much more personal and intimate. The movement of the covers wafts his sent in my direction, and I feel a distinct wetness between my thighs as the soapy smell of a man recently showered fills my senses. Is there any better smell on this earth? I'm in a constant battle at this moment to hold onto of my resolve to keep things strictly professional.

"Yes well, even though I try to control most things in my life, sleeping in one spot seems to be something I haven't been able to master." I try to lift the mood seeing as the bizarreness of the situation is smothering me. We are both sitting stiffly below the covers and I have no idea how I'll ever be able to relax enough to sleep next to this man. Luckily my bed in huge, and if all goes well, we won't even know about the presence of the other, when we finally fall asleep that is.

"Why do you feel like you need to control everything in your life?" He asks without knowing exactly how loaded that question is, and the answer is something I just cannot imagine sharing with someone who for all intents and purposes is a practical stranger. Even if this stranger is sharing my bed, or rubbed up against me only moments ago. How strange is life?

"Not really binder information, don't you think?" I point out as I warily turn my back on him to lie on my side, facing the window. "Doubt that my parents would expect you to know the answer, either."

I hear him chortle softly before I feel the bed dip slightly under his weight. Silence engulfs us as we both lie in the darkness.

"So are you?" He asks after several minutes, and the question has my mind turning in confusion.

"Am I what?" I ask with a frown which I'm sure can be heard in my voice.

"Are you experienced?" He asks as if it's the most obvious question in the world. I'm still fighting to understand what the heck he's talking about, when I finally realize he's referring to my t-shirt. I instantly smile at his wit, and simultaneously fume at his candor.

"I thought you would know not to believe everything you read, Mr. Cullen." I reply in a clipped tone. What does my level of experience when it comes to sex, and I'm sure, given the insight I've had in the workings of Edward's filthy mind that he's referring to sex, have anything to do with him?

"So that's a no then?" His voice is filled with laughter and I roll my eyes at his immaturity even though I know he can't see me. "I can hear you rolling your eyes, you know." Guess not, then.

"It would depend on what you're referring to. If it is to what I think you are, then it's none of your business." I'm tired and his subscripts are infuriating.

"What do you think I'm referring to?" He asks innocently and I sigh in exasperation.

"I'm done with playing your games, Edward. You obviously can't control yourself when a woman engages verbally in anything sexual." I know I'm rather bold by referring to our previous little encounter when it would probably be best to forget it ever happened, but I tend to loose my finely tuned filter when I'm exhausted.

"So you think I'm referring to sex, then?" He asks after a while, probably taking a moment to recover from my daring statement, and choosing to ignore it.

I decide not to answer as there really seems to be no adequate reply that would end this conversation.

"Are you asleep?" He speaks again and I'm just about at the end of my rope.

"I'm trying really hard to." I grumble through clenched lips.

He chuckles softly at my reply but remains silent. Finally. Just as my eyes start to fall shut, he speaks softly beside me. "I'm sorry about earlier Bella. That was completely uncalled for."

"Forget about it." I say tiredly. "We're both tired, let's get some sleep, okay?" I'm practically begging because my eyelids just can't seem to stay open and I really need him to shut up about his hot rubbing and all things sex related.

"Okay." Is his soft response and it's all I need to close my eyes and fall into a deep, much needed sleep.

Warm. It's so freaking warm. My eyes feel as if they're glued shut as I try to force my lids open. There is an inexplicable heat permeating my skin, and for some reason, I'm unable to shake it off or roll away from it. My sleep induced brain struggles to make sense of what's going on around me as I finally crack an eyelid. I'm in my bed that much is sure. I'm lying on my left side and I allow my eyes to scan the contents of the room. Yip, nothing strange or out of place, only this incredible heat. My eyes fall on the digital clock on my bedside table and I note that it's only five. The time of the morning slowly triggers recognition in my brain that links the hour to the darkness still engulfing me.

I once again attempt to lift my body in order to shift the heat from my limbs, but it's as if I'm paralyzed and trying to move my toes. I feel slight panic mingling with utter confusion as I drop my eyes to my legs in an attempt to decipher exactly what the hell is holding me down. I'm conscious enough to realize that I'm awake and not having some horrific dream. My eyes slowly adjust to the dim light in the room and it becomes easier to make out different shapes around me. It's at this moment that I feel a warm breath in my neck. My body immediately freezes as crippling fear causes my breath to catch and my heart rate to accelerate. I'm not sure how long I lie like this, struggling to uncover without moving an inch, exactly what has me pinned down and breathing on me. One thing is sure, whatever is lying behind me, judging by its even breaths, it's sleeping.

My eyes warily wonder towards my right hand which is clutched around something against my chest. It takes my vision a few moments to adjust, but then I'm finally able to uncover that my hand is clutching…another hand? A bigger hand, with long slender fingers. Well, at least I know it's not some dog or beast lying behind me. I follow the path of our entwined fingers, down a defined forearm, a nice looking elbow, and then a muscled bicep…with a tattoo. Wait? A tattoo?

And then, as if someone came into the room and ripped open the curtains, realization floods my mind, and I remember everything. My heart rate doesn't slow down knowing whose heating me up so thoroughly, oh no, it only increases.

Edward Cullen is practically crushing me to his chest. And by the look of things, sleep-Bella didn't mind the suffocating cuddling at all. I recall Edward mentioning that he likes to cuddle, and obviously the boy didn't tell me lies.

Now that I know what I'm facing, I dare to slightly move my legs in order to ascertain exactly where they are. On moving my feet I must stir Edward behind me, because he shifts his one leg, which I can now feel is solidly wedged between both my legs, causing his knee or thigh or whatever it is to rub firmly against me…there…again!

My eyes grow wide in fear of being caught out as a wanton moan escapes my lips. I imagine that we've been lying like this for a while now seeing as my sex is throbbing like a mother fudger and I'm obviously oversensitive to any touch. Apparently sleep-Edward is seriously into sleep-Bella because his response is to lift his knee even higher causing my eyes to roll into the back of my head. The friction he is causing will have me tumbling over the edge in no time, and for a moment my demented brain actually considers leaving him to finish what he started. I haven't had an orgasm in years, and the mere thought of steeling one from Edward when he's not even aware of actually giving me one is far more tempting than it should be. I release his hand which I have wrapped tightly around mine in an attempt to start the untangling process, but sleep-Edward has other ideas. Sleep Edward wants to play…and shit…I want to play too. The hand I just released simply takes hold of the next best thing, and before I know what's happening, Edward has his hand underneath my shirt and firmly placed over my left breast.

"Shit." I breathe as I throw my head back due to the sensation of his warm skin against mine. It's been so long since someone has touched me this intimately and I silently thank awake-Bella for not wearing a bra to bed. Edward's head heavily falls forward because of my movements and settles on my exposed neck, his breathing still slow and blowing against my cheek. His fingers are doing amazing things as they run lazily over my tightened nipple, causing me to bite down on my bottom lip forcefully. Then, his hand splays out as he takes a firm grip on my tit, rubbing against my nipple with the heel of his palm.

"Oh." I sigh and nearly swallow my tongue in excitement. His thigh doubles its efforts and starts rubbing up and down my slit with uncanny precision, and for a brief moment I wonder if Edward is asleep at all. Panic settles on my chest once again as I imagine him being wide awake and consciously doing this to me. I would absolutely die. I slightly tilt my head in order to gain a view of his face. I follow the trail of his hairline, where it almost falls into his eyes. His closed eyes. No, he's definitely asleep, because even though his breathing is turning labored and his lips are slightly parted, his face is still a mask of calmness.

I know I should be pulling away. I know I should be absolutely disgusted and disturbed, not only because Edward Cullen is sleep-humping me, but because I'm actually enjoying it and thinking of letting it continue. But, every time I ponder rolling away from him, he lifts his knee just so and hits my clit perfectly, and I swear I can feel him slightly rotate his knee right there before moving it down again.

For a second, I almost feel bad for allowing this to happen and not doing anything to reciprocate. I mean, could this be seen as assault or even rape? I'm totally taking advantage of a man almost two years my junior and not to mention my insubordinate at work, while he's sleeping and unaware of what's happening none the less. As if he can hear my thoughts, I feel his hips slightly buck against mine, and it seems like our friend from earlier this evening decided to make an appearance because there it is…long, thick and probing against my buttocks. Edward rubs the tip of his length against my lower back and my breathing speeds up as I once again hear that sexy sound he made last night. Edward moans, and I swear it flicks a switch somewhere in me because just like before, I'm instantly drenched but now with the added bonus of worrying that my girly bits are leaving a snail trail on his pants.

"Ungh…" I can't stop the sounds coming out of my mouth as he moves his hand on my breast in perfect rhythm to the gyrations of his hips and strokes of his leg. His movements are like a perfect symphony and Edward plays my body like an instrument specifically designed for his pleasure. Without intending to, because my brain is attached to a body that knows only one way to respond to basic urges, I allow my hips to writhe with Edward's in order to increase the pressure between my thighs. This earns me a desperate whimper from Edward and my eyes immediately flick to his to ensure that he's still asleep.

Please be asleep…please be asleep.

Edward is still asleep, much to my own relief. I clench my eyes shut, fighting to pull away but also struggling to stay put in order to grab hold of that sensation…the one I haven't felt in so long…the one that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time. I'm in serious need of the big O people, and if sleep-Edward is willing to oblige, who am I to refuse him?

Oh shit. My eyes pop open as I slightly bend my head forward in order to watch the progression of his hand, that was on my breast only a moment ago and now moving towards my panties. This will change everything. Humping his leg is one thing, actual hands on…you know what…pussy…there, I said it…that's something completely different. I consider pushing his hand away as I watch its decent with my lust filled eyes. But I'm too far gone now, right? I'm so close, and all I need is that one last push, that touch that will drive me over the edge.

I'm practically panting as his fingers ever so slowly dip below the waistband of my shorts. Just a few more inches and I'll be in heaven. In the mean time Edward is still making steady strokes against my back, the movement of his hips becoming aggressive and desperate. I know how he feels, or should feel if he was awake; the urge to just cling to whatever force is driving us towards blissful release is so strong I can hardly imagine how I lived without it for so long, let alone think about the consequences of my actions long enough to stop this madness.

Edward's hands run up and down my midriff, only dipping below my shorts for short intervals as I rotate my hips on his leg with renewed vigor. I once again consider the possibility of going to jail just as Edward finally moves his fingers over the outside my shorts and slowly walk them towards my lips.

No, no, no. I almost plead out laud as I realize his hand won't be entering my shorts. But then, his fingers stroke over my covered lips. Oh well, I'm going to hell anyway.

"Please…" I don't know why I beg out laud seeing as the man responsible for my state of affairs won't be able to hear me, but I just do, because I have to in the deep recesses of my mind convince myself that this isn't wrong. I'm so close, and his fingers are so close to right where I want then. "Please…" I beg again, because I'm a loser like that.

And then, finally, his index and middle finger touch my most sensitive part through my wet shorts, and just as unexpected as this all started, I feel myself being flung into a blinding light with no way of stopping the imminent end, after just a couple of firm strokes.

"Oh shit." I squeal through clenched lips and closed eyes as tide after tide of pure ecstasy rips through my body. The movements of my hips become irregular as I ride out the ripples consuming my flesh.

So good. So good. Soooo gooood.

I chant as the best orgasm I've ever had rips through my loins. For some sick reason my mind wonders to Jacob, and I wish I could give him a wedding present that declares to him that this man, this sleeping man behind me just gave me a better orgasm by touching me over my clothes than Jacob ever could with full on penetration.

"Oh my." I release in a long breath I've been holding through my mind blowing rapture as every part of my body relaxes into a lazy, limp state. That was…there are no words to describe how that was.

"Bella?" A breathy voice rips me from my post coital bliss and just like that, the life altering release I just experienced slips away and leaves my body rigid in fear. After many earlier attempts my body finally reacts according to my demands and flings me out of the bed at the speed of light.

I spin around and find a dazed and confused Edward, his hair messy and tussled by sleep, so hot by the way, staring at me questioningly.

"What…I…" He frowns in confusion as he takes in my frazzled appearance, my cheeks burning at an intensity it never knew before. His lips are split by an enormous yawn as he stretches his arms above his head, his defined chest heaving lungs full of oxygen. The man is sexier than any man should be allowed to be. "Sorry." He offers with a small smile and watches me warily.

"For what?" I squeak in dread wiping at the bangs of hair that are stuck to my forehead due to the sweaty exertion of mere moment ago.

Oh please tell me you didn't wake up…during… Please tell me you don't know. Please, please, please. I internally beseech, sounding much the same as a few moments earlier when Edward flipped a switch I was sure was broken a long time ago.

The memory makes the blush on my cheeks spread rapidly to my neck and chest.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a small frown pulling between his eyebrows. "You look…weird."

"Thank you." I snap at him without thinking and earn a surprised look. "Sorry." I mumble as I try to understand exactly why I feel annoyed right now. I watch him suspiciously, looking for any signs that would indicate that he knows what I just did. The fear of being caught out is thick and smothering in my throat and my blood is coursing through my veins at a mile a minute, causing a dull ringing noise in my ears.

He shrugs lazily and rubs his abs absentmindedly with his one hand. My eyes follow the movement as my knees almost buckle at the sight of his body. The same body I used for my own pleasure a second ago. I feel my mouth turn dry in guilt. Unwillingly my eyes move lower and discover that his pants are still tented due to his earlier excitement. I quickly look up to find another confused frown on his face before he lowers his eyes to his lap.

"Whoops." He chuckles embarrassedly and lifts the comforter to cover himself. I bite my bottom lip in response and avert my eyes to my feet. "That's normal, you know." He halfheartedly defends his physical reaction, unbeknownst to the fact that I'm partly to blame for the state he finds himself in. "Is this the reason?" He asks accusingly.

"For what?" I ask taken aback by his sudden aggressive attitude.

"For you standing all the way over there, looking like your about to crawl into the fetal position?" It's is, and it isn't, but explaining that to Edward is impossible. His face looks incredulous and I'm starting to believe that Mr. Cullen was in fact asleep through the whole, mind blowing experience. I feel myself relaxing slightly and offer him a cocky smile.

"You're not that impressive, Mr. Cullen." I sass and throw my hair over my shoulder. "I'm about to make breakfast."

"It's like five o'clock in the morning Bella." Edward sighs dramatically and rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Just get back into bed."

That sounds far more inviting than it should, and if I allow myself to be honest, it sounds really nice coming from him. But, I know I can't. It's obvious that I can't trust my body's reaction to this man, and I won't be taking any further unnecessary risks. I've got my fare share out of this deal as it is and seemingly got away with it, no need to push it or attempt a repeat performance. I

"Charlie's already up, and I thought I'd get started on breakfast before I leave for the office." I explain lamely, flinging my arms in all directions for some inexplicable reason. I need to get out of this room because it's painstakingly obvious that I won't be able to act like a normal person.

"Whatever." Edward sighs again and then rolls to his side with his muscled back facing me. I stare at the planes of his lower back, right there where the dimples form before the mounds of his but disappears into his pants. Is there any part of this man that is not just mouthwateringly delicious? For a secret moment I imagine what his skin would taste like, but my musings are short lived as I lift my eyes to where small moles are staring at me accusingly. This is getting way out of hand.

"Are you just going to stand there all morning?" He asks over his shoulder, catching me red handedly.

"Uh…no…sorry." I stammer, pulling my hair behind my ears and awkwardly making my way towards the bedroom door. I grab my robe hanging behind the door and pull in on at lighting speed.

"I drink full cream milk in my coffee." Edward orders from the bed and causes me to jump in surprise.

"A little presumptuous, don't you think." I bite back. I mean honestly, just how comfortable can this man make himself in my home. I open the door with a flourish.

"It's the least you could do." He mumbles in reply as I'm about to close it behind me, and I'm sure I wasn't meant to hear him.

"Excuse me?" I croak as my heart starts hammering in my chest again.

He knows. He knows.

"I said, see what you can do." He replies without missing a beat and I stare at him slack jawed. Edward's response is to sigh heavily and turn on his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Fine. I'll get my own fucking coffee, jeez."

I close the door behind me and stand silently in the corridor, replaying his words over and over in my head, trying to convince myself that he didn't say what I thought he said. Surely it is possible that I misunderstood him seeing as I'm a little more that paranoid at the moment. I'm almost one hundred percent sure Edward was asleep through the whole thing.

Besides, no one is such a good actor, right?