Chapter 3

Edward had done an excellent job of avoiding Isabella all week. She supposed Emmett had told him she wanted to speak with him, so an entire week had gone by before Isabella saw his ass again. They had meetings every Friday to go over business, so he was obliged to attend. It took all of her effort to not curse him out when he waltzed through the door just before nine a.m.

Isabella glanced at her employees sat in the large conference room, taking up each seat at the long rectangular table. They were a small corporation, made up of about twenty people. She did indeed run a phone sex service, to keep things legit, but that was not where her primary income originated from. Out of those twenty employees, seven of them were prostitutes. She used that term loosely, for her business was high class. Before establishing Twilight, Isabella had considered dubbing it an escort service, but as they all knew, those businesses were being busted left and right for their illegal activity. It hit too close to home. Therefore, Twilight was born seven years ago, right after Isabella graduated with honors from Yale. She was a clever gal, so she knew her shit and how to manage a corporation. It just took time and hard work to get things running off the ground.

Besides Emmett and their recent addition, Edward, Isabella had several other whores that she managed. They were compromised of two other males, Paul and Jacob Black; along with the females, Bree Meyers, Emily Call, and Angela Weber. Each of them had their own sexual talents of course, but they were all extremely beautiful and dressed to the nines.

Paul and Jacob were brothers, lean and thin, but had an exotic appearance of dark skin and wild eyes. The women of D.C. absolutely adored them. They looked innocent, but their activities between the sheets were not to be reckoned with. Bree was their youngest, with baby-like features, and dark hair. She was often requested because she would do anything, and by that, it meant literally. The girl had no boundaries- and Isabella liked that about her. Emily was the oldest, so when clients desired a cougar, she was the one called. She was a tall blonde, with bright blue eyes, and was very well manned and classy. Last, but not least, was Angela. She was quiet, but when she had something to say, one knew it was important. She was the most hesitant to join, but when she realized she could make thousands of dollars in a single week, she stayed.

Money would make even the most tamed person turn into an animal.

Whatever money her darlings made during their sessions, thirty percent went to Isabella. It was a steep commission, but they knew the amount they brought home was worth it. They wouldn't be missing any of it. It was mandated that they were tested every week, even though they all used protection. She couldn't have her whores getting ridden with some STD or other disease, so Isabella made sure they remained safe. They also had two body guards, Jasper Cameron and Eric Yorkie, who accompanied the females at any given time. You never knew what type of people they would come across. They primarily dealt with politicians, CEO's, lawyers, socialites, and citizens of that nature, but still…there would be the occasional slimeball or two lurking somewhere.

Isabella cleared her throat and thanked Rosalie for the glass of water she sat on the coaster in front of her. Everyone stopped their chatting as she called the meeting to order.

"Good morning, everyone," she announced cheerfully.

"Good morning, Miss Isabella," they replied in unison.

See? She thought. My obedient little whores. I have trained them well.

Edward sat two seats down from her, evading any and all eye contact. Good. He ought to be petrified for his damn life at this point.

Isabella shuffled her papers together. "First up, we need to discuss dress code. Some of you have been slacking in that department. You are not to show up here in jeans, do I make myself clear? Paul?"

He nodded sheepishly. "Yes, Ma'am."

"I am not running a circus here. You want to wear denim, then you stay your ass at home. Men you are to wear dress slacks, collared shirts, and a tie at all times. Suit jackets are also acceptable. I don't need the thirty-seven other floors in this building wondering what the hell we are doing up here. Women, no hems above the knees. No flats, and hair must be down for all occasions. Good hygiene practices are a given. Does everyone understand this?"

They all murmured in agreement.

"Very well. I shouldn't have to bring this up again. Next order of business, we need to discuss transportation with Mr. Clearwater. Harry has complained that you all are making him stop at other locations other than the Four Seasons Hotel where you conduct your sessions. I pay top dollar to book the top rooms for an entire year. That is where you are to be dropped off, that is where you are to be picked up. Anywhere else is unacceptable. And if I hear you giving Harry shit about it, I'll cut your ass in a second, no questions asked. Capisce?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Okay, we are all done here. Unless anyone has any questions." Isabella paused momentarily, and when no one said anything, she dismissed them. "Okay, you all may pick up your checks at Rosalie's desk. Edward, I need you to stay behind for a minute."

None of her clients paid in cash- she wasn't foolish. Otherwise, her whores would be too tempted to slip an extra hundred in their pocket. Therefore, all patrons had to pay by credit card or check to the main office. They made sure the paper trail was clean, and her employees were paid every week, on Fridays.

Paul and Jacob snickered, making immature comments underneath their breath. "Oooh, Edward's in troubleeee!"

Isabella rolled her eyes, and shut the door behind Emily, as she was the last one to leave. She sauntered over to him, since he had not budged from his seat. He looked absolutely delectable in his dark gray slacks and white shirt, complimented by a black tie. His tousled hair looked a complete mess as usual, but that was part of his allure. His jade-coloured eyes that bore into your soul also fell into that category; the hue so piercing it was a captivating.

Isabella propped herself up on the table, pulling down the hem on her royal blue wrap dress. Crossing her legs, she lifted his chin so that he was looking at her.

"Do you know why I need to speak with you, Edward?" she asked evenly.

He nodded.

I can't hear nods, she contemplated in her head.

"Edward, I know you are new here, but when I say words to you, I expect you to use your big boy voice and talk back. I asked, do you know why I need to speak with you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said quietly.

"And why is that?" she prodded him.

"Because I talked to Emmett."

"Edward, I like you. That's why I'm keeping you around. And it's not that I care if you speak to Emmett. We are a family around here. We keep no secrets. But the second currency is transacted from my hand to yours, it's a contractual agreement. If I wanted everyone else to know, then I would have passed out money to everyone at the meeting today. You're a cute kid, so I'm going to let this one slide. It happens again, and you are out. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Cyllen?"

"Yes, Miss Isabella."

"Good. Now take off your pants. You're going to pay me back for opening up that mouth of yours."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Isabella was glad he was a smart boy. He was just a few years younger than her junior, but he knew today he would not be playing the dominant role. At the moment, he would be apologizing for his mistake.

With his cock.

"You know my rules. No kissing. But I'll play nice and let you choose the location. How do you want to say you're sorry, Edward? On the table? In a chair?"

He cleared his throat and spoke so softly, she barely heard him. "Against the window."

Isabella raised her eyebrow and smiled. "Excellent choice. Although, I think that's part of the problem, wouldn't you agree? I think you like letting the world know you fuck me, is that it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, taking off the last of his clothes. His erection was already at full mast. No matter how it appeared, this man was not subservient by any means. He could easily walk away at any moment, no questions asked. Like Emmett had previously mentioned, she didn't usually interact with her whores.

But there was something about this one that she liked. She just couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, just yet.

"Take off my clothes, Edward," Isabella sighed, impatiently. "I'm not going to wrinkle an original Givenchy."

He nodded, and lifted her with ease off of the table, setting her on her feet. He slid the dress over top of her head, revealing her ornate lace detailed lingerie set. Isabella watched him swallow the hard lump that had formed in his throat.

"I don't hear the beginnings of an apology, Edward," she complained, prompting him along.

His eyes darkened, and this was the Edward she knew, the one who could make a woman go weak at the knees with just his stare alone.

He growled, ripping her panties off with one clean sweep. "I'm sorry, Isabella, for fucking you so hard, I just had to announce it."

Her bra was next, flicked off in mere seconds. "I'm sorry, Isabella, for telling Emmett just how damn hot you are."

He lifted her around his waist, and she wrapped her peep-toe heels around his hips for support. Isabella felt his cock rub against her pussy as he carried them to the window, the city life buzzing just stories below.

Her back touched the cold glass, and she felt sorry for the workers in the bank building that stood just across from them. They were in for quite the treat today.

Edward used one muscular arm to hold her up, the other to guide his erection to her inner core. Isabella was anticipating his next apology, while her body was already flushed to extreme temperatures. She didn't know how he was so different, how he made her feel a multitude of sensations all at once. But this was not the moment to acknowledge her unstable emotional turmoil. Right now, this man had to make up for the lack of self-control he had around others.

By losing it on her.

Edward directed her hands, wanting her to hold on to the sides of the window pane. Isabella complied, and he whispered another "Sorry."

She goaded him, wanting his damn cock already. "For what, Edward?"

He smirked, and tilted his head.

"For this."

And damn, if Isabella didn't bite his shoulder as hard as she could when he plunged into her. He was supposed to be remorseful, and for what, she didn't even know or care anymore. He was grabbing her ass so tightly, she was positive he was leaving his mark on her. Thrusting continuously, their bodies crashed together again and again. The angle, in which we were standing, was too much. He was hitting her spot repeatedly, her hardened nipples bouncing up and down at their incessant movement.

Isabella couldn't help her fists that were grabbing the window pane, then pounding, then grabbing once more. Her pussy threatened to contract around Edward's length, but she didn't want to come, not yet. It took all of her ability to not inhale his manly scent of sandalwood and sex; it was stirring in circles around her aura, begging her to cower to its influence. Right now, she needed the control, the power, the dominion. She would not be the one paying penitence for his sins.

"Apologize...now…" Isabella breathed out, as he purged himself harshly.

Edward refused, shaking his head, and taking one of her nipples in his mouth. She moaned at the sensations that ran rampant through her. This man would be the death of her, killing her slowly, bit by bit.

Edward twisted her body…and oh, fuck, she couldn't hold back anymore. Her orgasm came, searing through her system, pumping furiously. Isabella thought he was finished, but he rotated her body again, and another coiling churned, causing her to come a second time. Isabella had no moment of calm, for he was still going.

She knew what he was doing.

He was apologizing until no words would be able to leave his mouth.

Isabella felt the tremor of his body release in her, thrusting for a final time. Holding her hips still, Edward emptied every drop he had. By this point, she was already depleted, physically and mentally.

In a very unlike Isabella move, she rested her head on his shoulder, catching her breath. "Good…boy…"

He carried her back to the table, handing her the designer dress. She was shaking, too unnerved to get dressed. He slipped on his clothes quietly. By the time he was finished, Isabella finally started to clothe herself, when she held up the scrap of panties in her hand. She had completely forgotten he had ripped them to shreds.

Edward smirked, and snatched them from her hands. Isabella looked in shock as he stuffed them into his back pocket. He walked towards the door and opened it slightly, making his way out.

"For that, Isabella, I'm not sorry at all."