Rating: M

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyers owns all things Twilight - I just like to get weird with her characters.

A/N…Much love and thanks to my beta LovinRob for all of her encouragement and hard work on this story! Without her OCD and her cock/pussy thesaurus, this fic would be a hot mess of past and present tense and the word erection used repeatedly…

Many thanks to AmandaC3 for creating the marvelous banner for this story and the Togaward bonus banner. I wouldn't believe it was possible – but she made Rob hotter by wrapping him in pink bed sheets…

Party time….

Chapter 6 – No One Needs To Know

An hour and three more Hard Lemonades later, I was dressed, pressed and ready to let loose. Rose called her sorority appointed designated driver so we didn't freeze our asses off walking in the dead of winter half-naked. The music coming from the little blue cottage was loud, the bass shook the windows and could be heard and felt from a block away, I'm sure.

The three of us walk through the door and abruptly stop. I inwardly chuckle thinking we might as well have struck a Charlie's Angels pose. Tanya spots Chocolate Thunder and trots over to jump on him like a spider monkey peppering kisses all over his face and neck.

Rose spots Emmett as well, however he is surrounded by a gaggle of freshman girls. Rose leans down to point out the two ringleaders of said groupies. She advises that she aptly named them "Orangutan Tits" and "Hungry-Hungry Hippo". Apparently, these girls have become a Thursday night staple and can't seem to grasp the concept of "not available".

Orangutan Tits is a tall blonde with a very severe blunt bob haircut. Impressed by Rose's accuracy, I did notice the ape like shape of her breasts as she thought it would be a good idea to rock a white tank with no support.

Hungry-Hungry Hippo, or Triple H as I will henceforth refer to her is the polar opposite. She can't be more than five feet tall and slightly thicker, jet black curly hair and a slight overbite. Her looks were average at best, but her confidence was through the roof. You almost had to admire her, she was one of those girls who got up every morning, looked in the mirror and said "Hot Damn" – impressed by her reflection like the Pussycat Dolls chorus "Don'cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me" was playing on a loop in her head as she strutted around.

Rose and I slowly approach. The smile on Em's face as he watches her stalk closer is blinding. She "accidentally" shoulder checks Orangutan Tits as she pulls on Emmett's neck to bring him down for a smoldering kiss. Once she is finished pissing on his leg, she turns her gaze onto the unsuspecting freshmen. Her mouth pulls into a tight lipped smile, but her eyes blaze with a promising warning. Rosalie Hale did not share.

The gaggle of Fraggles suddenly remembers that they love doing The Cupid Shuffle and vacate the area quickly. Em pulls me in for a tight hug and whisper yells over the loud music in my ear.

"So glad you made it Bells. Sorry to hear about, um… you know."

I nod, smiling solemnly at the sweetness of the giant oaf. I stand on my tip-toes and reply, "Em, don't feel sorry for me, just get me drunk."

Jake, the fourth roommate and his girlfriend, Leah make their way across the room to greet us. Emmett informs them of my drunken intentions to which Leah begins howling, literally howling as she raises the unknown bottle of booze and begins pouring it down my throat. The next hour is a blur of drinking, laughing and dancing.

FloRida's Right Round starts playing and several people start spinning and gyrating to the beat. It is then that my new nemesis, Triple H becomes woozy from spinning right round and proceeds to vomit down the front of my shirt and sarong. Clearly there is nothing that seals the sting of humiliation like the scent of someone else's vomit radiating from your body.

Unable to move, I am stunned into stillness. Emmett grabs my elbow and begins yelling for everyone to "Get the fuck out of the way" as he ushers me to the back of the house. After we make our way through the kitchen, he leads me down a set of stairs to the basement. We enter a dark room and he tells me that the second door leads to the bathroom where I can get myself cleaned up. He assures me he will go find me some clothes to wear so he can wash my vomit stained outfit.

I thank him and enter the bathroom. Fishing around for the light-switch, I quietly curse as I knock some shit over in the process. I finally find the light next to the mirror. The harsh fluorescent lighting floods the room and I stare into the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and the vomit is seeping through to my skin. I roll my eyes and huff loudly. I hear footsteps behind me and turn to grab the clothes from Emmett, but I am startled into silence when I turn to face a smirking Edward Cullen instead. His eyes roam over my ruined outfit as he steps forward to hand me a shirt and some shorts. He clears his throat.

"Uh, I thought these would fit you better than any of Emmett's clothes," he says quietly, "Feel free to use the shower if you need to… you know." He awkwardly continues.

A smile plays on my lips as I quietly stammer, "Um... thank you" waving the clothes around as if he wasn't sure what I would be expressing gratitude for.

Still smirking, he nods. "Well then I'll leave you to it." He advises nervously knocking on the door twice before he shuts it. Hmm, Edward Cullen was flustered, imagine that.

I hurriedly strip down and throw my clothes under the sink faucet to get the excess vomit off of my outfit. I smell my hair and decide that the majority of the puke stench is radiating from my torso. I throw my hair up into a messy bun and hop into the shower. It isn't disgusting like most boy showers are. It is actually clean. No stray pubes all over or faint smells of semen. I won't lie, my inner whore is basking in the scent of his shower gel, and I may or may not have contemplated adding it to my shopping list so I could do the same. Creepy, Bella.

I finally manage to get myself under control, exited the shower and towel off. I run my hand over his soft gray Port Angeles 3 on 3 basketball tourney t-shirt. Unfolding it, I can't help but smile when I see his last name across the back. My inner whore is preparing a matching stencil to permanently mark her with his name across her back. Possessed, I think I kind of like that. I pull the shorts up and roll them down so they settle on my hips. One last glance in the mirror and I debate on letting my hair down since I worked hard to get the soft waves look. Instead, I opted to feign nonchalance, keeping it in the messy bun. Might as well be me, right?

I grab the clothes and open the door. There he sat in the dark on a short black futon. His hair is disheveled and sexy. He is wearing a navy thermal henley with dark jeans and bare feet. I notice he has a ¾ full bottle of Makers Mark and a double old fashioned class three fingers full.

"Feel better?" He asks smiling his crooked smirk at me.

I smile back answering, "Much better, thanks to you". Remembering that I have a towel full of wet, vomit scented clothes, I continue, "Now can I trouble you for a plastic bag to put these in until I can get them to a washer?"

He stands up, wiggling his index finger beckoning me to follow him into the laundry room. I place the clothes into the washer and start it up as he adds the detergent. We walk back to his room in silence, the party above us still going strong. He motions for me to enter first, closing the door behind us. I am alone with Edward Cullen wearing his clothes and nothing else.

He sits back down on the futon, picks up his Makers Mark and tops off his glass. I watch him as I stand gawking by the doorway. He looks up at me and holds the bottle up, apparently asking if I'd like to join him for a drink. I walk over to the futon slowly trying to contain my smile at his unspoken offer.

"So… What are we drinking to, Mr. Cullen?" I purr attempting to sound seductive.

His smile grows. "Well, Miss Swan" he drawls slowly, "Do you normally drink whiskey?"

I chuckle lightly and shake my head. "No, not typically" I pause and look directly into his eyes, "But I'll try almost anything at least once." I bite my lip, praying that I didn't just sound like a desperate whore.

His body shook with quiet laughter, "Would it be forward of me to inquire what would not fall into the almost anything category?" He challenges before taking a large gulp of his drink.

Clearly all the booze I consumed up until that point in the evening decides to make an appearance at that very moment, completely shutting down my common sense filter. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Anal. Definitely anal."

Edward spits the whiskey out and immediately begins choking. I rush to his side and start smacking him on the back as he coughs and sputters and tries to keep the burning liquid from coming out of his nose. As if I haven't already dazzled him with my awkwardness, I thought I would give him a preview of my crazy logic and rambling skills, loudly.

"Oh my God, Edward – I am so sorry! I swear I might have undiagnosed Tourrettes syndrome. Idrank a lot tonight and I said the first thing I could think of which happened to also be my hard limit. SHIT! I didn't mean to say that out loud. Look, I know I sound like some sexual deviant or something, but I just don't think that I could ever do anal. I like my b-hymen in-tact, you know what I mean?"

Now Edward is full on choking and laughing as I continue to aggressively smack his back and spew my crazy.

"Not that there is anything wrong with anal, if that's what you are into. I mean, it's like a really respectable trade in the porn industry, you know?" I continue to explain.

At this his laughter reaches a fever pitch and he starts gesturing wildly indicating he needs me to stop talking immediately. I bury my head in my hands, absolutely mortified at my wordy outburst. After a few minutes, he is able to get his laughter under control.

"Hey" he says in a comforting way as I feel his hand rubbing my back reassuringly, "You kind of caught me off guard, but I totally respect your position on butt sex."

I roll my eyes and giggle, shaking my head at the ridiculous turn our conversation has taken. "I'm definitely going to need that drink now, Mr. Cullen." I mutter uncomfortably.

He stands up and grabs another glass and pours me two fingers of whiskey. eHe hands me the glass and raises his to propose a toast with his signature panty dropping smirk.

"How about this," he offers, "how about we drink to new… friends with in-tact b-hymens?" I let out a huge guffaw and nod my head as we clink our glasses together. Friends. Sure, that will work for now.

The conversation flowed effortlessly from that point. We shared our general statistics, both genuinely surprised at how little we knew about each other given how long we ran in the same circles. Edward was born and bred in Chicago until the summer before his junior year in high school when he moved to Port Angeles. He is the adopted only child of the Seattle Children's Hospital Chief of Staff and a homemaker turned budding interior designer. He is a pre-med major hoping to be a surgeon, though he is thoroughly undecided if he should be a general surgeon or if he should specialize.

As I watched my new found friend discuss the pros and cons of specializing at length, I found myself reveling in the possibilities of this new friendship. I wanted to covet my friend. Every insight into his life, every story, every opinion he shared with me, I felt like it was a gift. Edward Cullen was a beautiful mystery, but he chose to open up to me. It felt so amazing, yet foreign to me. Could connection really be this easy?

We chatted about our mutual friends and how our friendships came to fruition. Naturally, with the alcohol induced lack of a filter, I regaled him with the tale of walking in on Tanya and Tyler the other day and the ensuing nickname. He laughed hysterically and I admit I was pleasantly surprised that I could say the word "cock" in front of him without blushing fifty shades of embarrassed.

"So that's the first time you walked in on Tanya banging someone?" He asks incredulously as if I just told him that I had a dick.

"Yes it was. Believe me, I know it seems far-fetched given my room-mates rumored voracious sexual appetite," I reply giggling, "But she really is wonderful, and there's a first time for everything right?"

He nods his head as he tops off our drinks, "Firsts, definitely."

I can't quite read him so I take the bait, "Care to share your firsts, Cullen?" I purr with a wicked smile.

He smirks and shakes his head as if he is shaking off a filthy thought. Perhaps more coaxing is in order.

"Come on, I just shared my first black cock sighting, the least you can do is reciprocate." I whine.

"I see Tyler's cock more than I like, Miss Swan – you forget I live with three jocks – it's like a locker-room around here." He replies cocking an eyebrow and chuckling lightly. He let that sink in, but then licks his lips and smiles evilly, "However, since you are so morbidly curious about my sexual firsts, who am I to deny you?"

"Let me see. First kiss." He continues, "Her name was Charlotte. We were in seventh grade and we were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. Unfortunately for me, it was more like Seven Minutes in Hell because she had braces and came at me like a Dyson sucking the skin off my lips and the breath out of my lungs."

I can't help but laugh at the thought of the seventh grade man-eater attacking a young Edward. I also can't help the snort that escapes my nose. He stares at me smiling and shaking his head.

"I just shared a real nightmare situation with you and you are laughing? I went Pretty Woman for the next year or two, absolutely no kissing on the mouth, and you find that hysterical, huh?" He teasingly retorts.

At this I let out a huge guffaw. Feeling slightly guilty for my insensitivity, I feel inclined to return the favor with an equally humiliating first. "Well my first "kiss-kiss" was with a boy named Connor in eighth grade." I confess, and then narrow my eyes suspiciously adding, "To this day, I swear he ate a shit sandwich before he kissed me. His tongue tasted like a turd and I totally gagged and may or may not have vomited afterwards."

It is Edward's turn to laugh. "Perhaps you getting puked on tonight was karma then huh? For puking on poor Connor with the halitosis? Perhaps justice was served, Swan." He cackles as he celebrates my mortification.

I huff as I fold my arms across my chest and roll my eyes. Ahh yes, the better for him to see my maturity and my pert rack with.

"Aww, Bella. Do you need a tit for tat humiliation from me to make yourself feel better?" He cooed reassuringly. I may have nodded slightly.

"Okay love." He says patting my knee. "My junior prom – my first time. My prom date and I got a hotel room. Let's just say it was the best two minutes of her life before we both passed out. The next morning, I rolled over to wake her up for round two only to find that she pissed all over the bed, and me."

Now it is my turn to choke on whiskey. I gag and sputter and laugh hysterically. Edward rolls his eyes and nods his head; clearly this story elicits this reaction often. I finally get a hold of myself and give him my most apologetic look.

"I'm sorry I laughed. Must have been quite a pisser, huh?" I try to sound comforting but I can tell he's not buying it.

Edward rolls his eyes again and huffs looking everywhere but at me. "And here we go." He mutters.

"Well. I am happy to report that my first time was… nice"I confess looking down at my drink. "It was free of golden showers and water-sports, but nice, none the less." Taking a sip of my drink praying he won't ask me to elaborate, I avoid meeting his eyes.

"Hmm. Nice. So less than two minutes, huh?" Edward jokes, sensing my wavering admission.

I laugh humorlessly, "Well, if you must know… I think he too only made it to the two minute mark. But I had the added bonus of a soundtrack and a glade candle to set the scene for the romantic interlude."

"Was said song on your Sexy-Times playlist?" He inquires sardonically.

"Uh, no. I think he must have seen the movie The Watchmen one too many times because he played Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah as if it should evoke some sort of religious experience." I reply, shaking my head, laughing.

Edward grins, seeming to enjoy my confession immensely. "So, I take it he didn't make you have a, come to Jesus moment?"

I bite my lip, shaking my head slowly. "Uh, nope," I retort popping the P. "Actually never."

His stare is intense as he nods slowly. He seems to be deliberating on whether he should ask me to elaborate. But in his moment of indecision, the alcohol makes its presence known again and like Harry Potter, I am about to open the Chamber of Secrets wide open. I reposition my body to face him, wrapping my arms around my knees ready to spew my sexual frustration all over him.

"I think in order to give your partner the big O; one should recognize that said partner has erogenous zones." I begin bitterly, "Palming a breast like a grapefruit, not acceptable unless it is over the clothes. I mean, I am not asking to be milked, but maybe a nipple graze is in order, right?"

Edward's eyes widen. He pulls both of his lips into his mouth trying not to smirk at my crazy or burst out laughing.

Clearly on a roll, I continue my acidic rant. "And, yeah, ramming two fingers into a vag four times should not be considered foreplay; it's a pap-smear. And then him pulling out K-Y, made me think the pap-smear was premeditated, just sayin'."

He smiles widely, shakes his head and defends, "Cut the boy some slack, he was what 17 or 18 at the time, right? Surely he got better, right?"

I can't meet his eyes as I shake my head. All of the bitterness evaporates and I am left feeling shame. Shame for putting Mike on blast – a new low – even for me. My throat burns as I gulp the remainder of my whiskey down to avoid the awkwardness of the moment.

Edward clears his throat, pats my knee and rises to stand. "I'm going to go put your clothes in the dryer, I'll be right back."

I nod my head, thankful for the moment alone to get myself back together. After a few deep breaths, eye-rolls and self-deprecating mumbled comments – I suddenly remember my hand dry only bra and panty set. I stumble up and stagger back to the laundry room to find my undergarments laid out on top of the washer with Edward leaning over them, staring at them intently as if they were silently debating something. I cluck my tongue and shake my head slowly as I enter. His eyes meet mine and his stare is intense.

"Dirty boy, Cullen" I tease as I cross my arms across my chest and slowly stalk towards him, stopping only inches away, much like he did on the quad. "I'd say I was impressed by you knowing not to dry my unmentionables, but then again… I am sure you have other methods of ruining panties, huh?" I tilt my head, give him a satisfied smirk and secretly pray that I sounded like a vixen, not a drunken coed from Girls Gone Wild.

His expression changes from that of intensity to one of pure determination as he places his hand on the back of my neck and the other on my lower back bringing me flush against him. My eyes widen and I suck in a breath as he runs his nose up and down my jaw line, edging its way to my ear.

I place my hands against the strong plains of his chest and will myself not to tear his shirt to shreds. I try to control my breathing but my body is practically vibrating with desire. I don't dare move, waiting to see what he will do next. He is breathing deeply against the side of my face when he begins to harshly whisper.

"Hmm… Bell-a…" He pauses, seemingly to get his thoughts under control. He skims his nose over my jaw and back to my ear again before quietly growling, "I-I want..."

The hand on my neck inches upwards until it is tangled in my hair, pulling my face up to meet his. Our eyes meet momentarily before he licks his lips and presses his forehead against mine. I feel his other hand on my back run slowly up the side of my body softly. His fingertips lightly glided over the top of my hip, my ribs, only to gently graze the side of my breast on its way up to my collarbone. As his hand inches its way up my neck, I can't help but close my eyes and savor the delicious burn his touch leaves on my skin.

His palm cups my cheek at the same time his lips tenderly touch mine. Closed and chaste, he lingers there before pulling away lightly. I can feel him smiling against my lips. Obviously overcome with the effect that Edward Cullen has over me (and possibly uninhibited by the sauce), in an uncharacteristic move for me, I run my hands further up his chest, over his neck and fist my hands into his hair. I tilt my head for better access and press my lips back to his. Softly at first but building in intensity as Edward begins moving his lips against mine.

The tip of his tongue sweeps my bottom lip, seemingly begging for access to my mouth just as the hand on my cheek runs back down the side of my body to tightly grip my hip pulling me impossibly closer against him. Our tongues touch and our lips press against each other, attacking roughly. As the intensity of the kiss builds, I feel the rumble in his chest and hear the deep groan escape his throat. In one fluid movement, both of his hands slide down and grip my ass, kneading and lifting me forcefully, swinging me around to place me on top of the dryer.

Evidently in tune with his intentions, I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles and pulling his lower half as close to me as I can. Between the heat of the dryer below and the friction generated by my impromptu leg lock, it's my turn to make embarrassing noises. I tilt my head back trying to catch my breath, moaning, "God, yes" as he kisses and licks his way down my neck to my collarbone all the while his erection is pressing against my core tightly.

"More…" I beg.

He returns to kiss my mouth again hungrily. We can't seem to get close enough, wanting to consume the other over and over again. Once again, he presses his forehead against mine and we are practically panting into each other's mouths. I vaguely hear a couple of sets of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Bel-la, where are you, doll?" Tanya inquires with a sing-song voice, "Ty is going to take us home if you're rea-dy."

I open my eyes wide to meet his. As soon as he heard her voice, he scrunched his eyes shut tight and he begins lightly shaking his head. He swallows thickly and whispered fervently "Stay." His tone is commanding, but I can hear the desperation behind it. He licks his lips, opens his eyes and softer this time, he pleads, "Please stay... with me, please."

"Bells?" the inflection of her voice rises slightly with worry, "Bells, you in there? C'mon we have to go – you have a lab in the morning."

I bite and pull my lip, indecision must have colored my face. His eyes are no longer lust filled, they are tender, reverent. He gently pulls my lip from my teeth and rubs the pad of his thumb over it, soothing the sting.

"BELLA!" Tanya shouts as her knocking becomes more incessant.

Sighing, I turn my head to answer her, "Be right there, Tan."

Unlocking my legs from around his waist, Edward steps back and offers his hand so I can hop off of the dryer. I stare at our hands as his long fingers intertwine with mine. Once my feet hit the floor he pulls me close again and places a short, chaste kiss on my forehead.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Bella." He whispers.

I can't tell by his inflection if it is a promise, a query, or a casual good-bye, but I nod my head uncertainly.

"Goodnight, Edward". I murmur. I turn and amble awkwardly to the door.

I startle Tanya as I approach her from behind. She has her ear to Edward's door; all she is missing is a glass. At least she has the decency to look embarrassed being caught red handed.

"Oh. There you are." She stands and crosses her arms over her chest with her, 'you got some explaining to do' look on her face. "And what were you up to in the laundry room, pray tell?" She asks arching her eyebrow accusingly.

Tyler snickers behind her, "Yeah Bells, looks like you were having loads of fun in that laundry room."

I can't contain the smile on my face as I shake my head. I can tell my cheeks are flushed and it won't be hard to guess what was going on in that laundry room, but for now, I want to keep the details of our friendship and laundry room practices all to myself.

A/N… Ugh - damn you Tanya and Chocolate Thunder! How dare you interrupt our girl getting her groove back on a major appliance! Sorry dolls, I tried to get her lei'd, er, I mean laid... Honest I tried - but it's a slow burn and a little UST never killed anyone, right? (*chuckles nervously*)

It's time to get down to the heart of the matter, Don Henley - how crazy did everyone go at BD2? I lost my mind for about 20 minutes there - pointing and yelling like a lunatic. My friend dropped an F bomb though - so thankfully I appeared less crazy (in my mind).

I will post the next update on Thursday morning as I will be taking off for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Thank you so much for all of the follows, faves, reviews, Facebook shout outs and recs!