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This beautiful man is walking towards me with purpose and a sexy, crooked smile playing an amazing harmony on his features. And he has green eyes. Heartbreakingly perfect emerald green eyes and a jaw I want to lick and bite.
Fuck me. Please.
He seats himself next to me and gestures for the bartender to take his order. He nods curtly and the bartender returns with his drink a few seconds later. Is he important here? The owner? I must be dreaming, no-one important would sit next to me or smile like that!
"Evening, miss." Oh God, even his voice is heaven, like melted honey, oozing with confidence and pure sex.
"Uh, evening." I murmur and blush, unprovoked. Oh Jesus Christ.
He smirks and tilts his head, no doubt trying to find out if there's something wrong with me. There probably is. Awkward blood clots in my facial features or something.
"Edward Cullen." He introduces himself and holds out his hand, flawlessness exuding every inch of him and I let out a shaky breath as I smile politely, and shake his hand.
I can do that. Just shake his hand.
Oh! It's cold, and his fingers are so... long. I bet he plays piano. He can play me anytime. No! I banish the crude though from my head before I blush.
Too late.
He chuckles dryly and arches an eyebrow. Shit! I need to give my name.
Uh... I can't give out my real name, can I? I mean, he could be a mass murderer set on tearing me apart limb by limb after he has violent sex with me, dumping my remains in the Thames. Oh God.
I inwardly blanch at the prospect and shudder. Great, now I gotta come up with a name!
"Oh. Sorry, I'm, uh- Bree. Bree..." I bite my lip and scan the bar for any ideas. I spot the black ceiling. That'll do. My inner goddess punches the air with triumph. "Bree Black."
I just gave out a wrong name. I'm an imposter, a fake. Oh fuck.