Summary: Bella and Edward are strangers with an unexplainable attraction. Throw in a little alcohol and some good music, and who knows what will happen.
An: This was originally an entry for the Public Lovin' Contest. I could not have finished writing this without the help of my wonderful beta, Buff82. She deserves just as much credit for the story as I do, as she has stuck with me through writer’s block, late night craziness, and the discovery of what she likes to call my ‘inner whore’.
Love Drunk
“Can I buy you a drink?” A deep, masculine voice asks from beside me. Casting a glance in his direction, I take in his blonde hair, blue eyes, and baby-faced features. I roll my eyes - his entire appearance screams college boy.
He is obviously trying to gather my attention, only an idiot would not realize that I’m already holding a drink in my hand. Ignoring him, I raise my glass and take a sip of the cool liquid, feeling the burn of it coating my throat. I turn to face back towards the crowd, looking over the dozens of people on the dance floor moving in rhythmic waves like the ocean, crashing into one another.
Pretty Boy is looking at me expectantly, obviously not getting the hint. “No thanks, not interested,” I tell him, making sure to sound as nonchalant as possible. No need to give him any sense of false hope. It works, and College Boy moves onto another unsuspecting target. Good thing, I think to myself with a snort, he wouldn’t be able to handle me if he tried.
My eyes scan the room briefly for Rose, knowing she would be in the heart of the crowd. My roommate’s striving need to be the center of attention makes her easy to spot. Her boyfriend, Emmett, has his mammoth hands wrapped around her slender waist and her back is pushed up against the front of his burly body. You can tell that she is feeling the beat of the music with every sway and pop of her hips.
This was Rosalie’s idea of a great night out, knocking back a few drinks and dancing the night away. I can’t say that I disagree with her - typically I’d be right next to her getting my ‘whore’ on, but tonight I’m all about watching from the sidelines. It doesn’t take long to realize that everyone else is watching Rose dance too. The tight red mini-dress she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination, not that she would need such a dress to gather attention.
If there was one phrase to sum up my roommate, Rosalie Hale, it would be ‘sex on legs’. She is undeniably gorgeous, all curves and platinum blonde hair, violet eyes, and legs that go on for miles. Every guy wanted her and every girl wanted to be her, myself included.
I think back to earlier in the evening when Rose had announced our plans for the night, and the amount of bitching I had done to try and convince her to let me stay home. Something I had never tried to do before.
“I don’t want to go out Rose,” I whined. “I’m perfectly fine staying here, you go.”
“Listen to me,” she snapped, her hand on her hip and her expression fierce, “I’ve let you do enough wallowing in this apartment over the last two weeks. We’re going out tonight, end of discussion. Got it?”
I quietly nodded my head, not crazy enough to argue. Rosalie’s bad side was a place I never wanted to be. She had then proceeded to pick out the ‘hottest’ dress she could find and had me do my hair and make up to her strict specifications. The end result - a smoldering, ‘just been fucked’ look. Or, at least, that’s what she had called it.
Tilting my cup back for another swig, I realize I’ve already finished it off. As I set my glass down, I signal to the bartender to pour me another. I’ve already got a nice buzz going on, the pounding music of the club becoming more muffled and less obnoxious in my alcohol induced haze. Drinking away my sorrows I call it. Rosalie was right, this is way better than sitting at home.
The bartender hands me a fresh rum and coke. I throw down a few bills for a tip and thank him. Deciding I want to find a new angle to people watch from, I slip off the barstool and adjust the deep blue dress that fits to me like a second skin. The skirt is short, falling barely to the tops of my thighs. My balance is slightly off, the massive heels I’m wearing no doubt a contributing factor.
I stop short after a few steps, the sensation of being watched overcoming me. Across the room, through a throng of motion, he stands out, his coppery hair gleaming under the bright lights. His eyes illuminate as he stares at me, his mouth curved into a deliciously cocky grin.
Suddenly, the sorrows I’d been drowning are a fleeting memory; floating away in a cloud of intoxicants and scrumptious smiles, the night immediately looking much better.
My head swims with the abundance of alcohol I have already consumed. I can feel it taking affect, but I don’t break my returning stare. Immediately, his enchanting, sexy as fuck, persona is drawing me in, and I want to know him. Taste him. Touch him.
Without hesitation, I knock back my nearly full rum and coke. Reaching blindly towards a table beside me, I set the cup down before I can take it no more, and I am walking. His tall, slender build moves, finally, and it seems I have a similar affect on him since he is maneuvering his way towards me too.
As he draws closer, never looking away, I am immediately consumed by the most beautiful shade of green. My tongue darts out to lick my lips, his gaze follows the movement. Green has now become my favorite color.
The emerald hue dances with excitement, I can see it. He’s looking to have fun and so am I.
The song shifts, but I’m hardly aware, a pounding rhythm that matches the beating of my heart fills the air between us. I can feel each pulse of the music vibrate through my body. His strong arms capture me around the waist, pulling me to him, and a tinge of electricity flows from his fingers tips to my skin through the fabric of my dress. My panties moisten at the sensation and it spurs my desire for him further.
He’s so close - the length of our bodies touching, my arms around him tightly, fingers wrapping around the errant curls at the nape of his neck. I press my face into his chest, inhaling deeply, allowing his scent to invade my senses. He smells divine. I want him, to memorize every part of him.
No words are spoken, just touches. Soft, hard, I need more.
Our bodies are grinding against one another to the beat of the music. His hands fall to my sides, and I can feel his obvious desire pressing against my inner thigh as he slips one leg between my parted ones. I smile up at him through lust and drunken, hooded eyes.
I am rewarded with a gorgeous smirk, and I’m pretty sure I moan in response. I can no longer care about anything else; nothing except this God-like man whose sinuous movements enrapture me. His left hand lingers above my right hip, and I can feel the tingle along the surface of my skin from its close proximity.
My eyes finally slide closed - I am feeling the music, letting it move me. I can’t help the slight gasp that escapes my lips as his hand finally lands gracefully against my hip, and his thumb presses gently against the bone. His other hand slides up from my waist, wandering, until he finally reaches the exposed skin of my back.
The feel of the soft pads of his fingers against my skin send shivers down my spine, and I scoot involuntarily closer to him. The motion spurs his confidence, and a low groan stretches across his lips as my pelvis grinds into his leg.
There is no space left between us. As his chest expands with each breath I can feel it press into me. Green eyes’ right hand dips along the top of my thigh, our bodies moving together in time - perfect synchronicity. Every cell in my body is hyper aware of each miniscule movement. I am panting, my heart thundering inside my chest. It feels as if I may pass out from his touch alone, it’s intoxicating; I am drunk off it.
I am possessed; there is no other reason for my mind and body to be acting so radically against my normal common senses. My eyes fall open, and I fall deeper into a green haze. A smirk hooks my mouth to the side.
I want this man - I want to make him want me - I want to tease him. I quirk an eyebrow at him and pull my bottom lip slowly between my teeth. His eyes cloud and fall to my mouth, then quickly flick back to meet my gaze.
Leaning my head towards him, I skim my nose agonizingly slow along his stubbly jaw. It is heaven. His left hand flattens against my back, pressing me against him, squeezing me. I emit a low moan that curls seductively around him. His body shudders against me and a triumphant smile splinters my face.
I am somewhat aware the song playing is asking us to go low, only because we are moving lower and lower to the floor—my body almost vertical. His nose dips between my breasts, goose bumps erupt violently in its wake, just before he pops us up, and I am suddenly spun around, facing out to the room.
The movement, combined with the alcohol, makes my head spin, but I manage to keep steady. His strong hands are holding me up, both placed securely on my hips as he pulls me back towards him. His erection is pressed perfectly against my ass, my thighs quivering for so much more. My head falls back against his shoulder, and with each swivel of my hips I rub against him. He groans, pushing back into me.
A flurry of butterflies assault my stomach as the low sounds escapes his lips and vibrates the skin on the crook of my neck, his lips resting lightly there. The power I seem to have over his body is exhilarating. I am running on pure adrenaline, my blood is kerosene pumping through my veins.
Suddenly, his tongue moves to taste my skin, slow circles, his lips joining in, and he is lavishly making his way up my neck. The kerosene is ignited and fire pulses through me - straight between my legs.
Slowly, my right hand snakes around his neck, my head tips to allow him better access. My fingers once again twine into his hair, it’s so soft, and I sigh at the feel. Green eyes’ right hands slips down my thigh and he tucks my ass into him further, his fingers skate across the apex of my thighs before settling low on my stomach.
“Fuck,” I hiss, and then wiggle against his cock. I want it between my legs. I want him under me - naked. I have never wanted anything more, and my brain scrambles, trying to figure out how to accomplish this goal.
The coils in my lower abdomen are wound tight, like a snake ready to strike. I am so hot for this man. Conspicuously I move my left hand down to his right one and pull his fingers to my lips. My tongue darts out, licking the tips softly; Green eyes’ shutters behind me, grunting.
A Cheshire cat grin perches on my face.
I pull his finger slowly into my mouth, gradually slinking my body down his. My head is pressing back against him until my scalp hits his belt buckle. I pop his finger out of my mouth and turn myself around, springing up simultaneously.
Our faces meet once again, and he is panting, our chests pump against each other, staggering for air. Our noses touch, and I breathe in his glorious fresh scent once more. Before I recognize the movement, my back hits a wall, and I realize we have been moving.
The bright lights of the club have all but disappeared. All I can see is the soft glow of a dim light further down the hallway we are standing in. Green eyes’ face is shadowed slightly, and he looks mysterious, feeding my desire.
“Perfection,” a voice whispers next to my ear. It’s melodic, perfect, just like everything else about this God-like man.
I smirk at him, his eyes flash - wild and wanting. Yes.
For the first time my lips touch his skin, right under his jaw - a spot that has been taunting me since I first laid eyes on him. His skin tastes as delicious and sweet as he smells. His nose is pressed into my hair as I attack his jaw, licking and nipping my way across it.
My teeth graze his ear lobe, and I am suddenly lifted off the ground, his hands tightly gripping my thighs. I wrap my legs securely around his waist, grinding my now soaked panties against his jeans, seeking the friction we both desperately needed.
It didn’t matter that we were literally molesting each other in a crowded, public place or who might see us, we were consumed by one another - seeking more wherever we could. The sounds I am making should embarrass me, but they don’t. I barely take notice.
My dress has been pushed up, his hands kneading the flesh of my ass. In this moment, I can take it no longer, I have to have him. I reach down, flipping his buckle open and grasping at the zipper of his jeans, but in my intoxicated state, I cannot accomplish what I want.
He notices my issue and holds me up with one arm, assisting me with his other hand, and yanks down the zipper with ease, pulling himself free. For a moment I am wide-eyed, jaw dropped, and staring - he is perfection in every sense of the word.
“Fuck me, now,” I croon in his ear, licking the shell of it before I nip at the lobe. He throws his head back with a growl, and in one swift movement he’s pulled my panties to the side, plunging into me with a guttural groan.
Screaming out, I grab hold of his shoulders for leverage. He stills his himself once he’s in me, filling me in a way I’ve never experienced before. He’s bigger than I’m used to, and I can feel him stretching me; it’s not an unpleasant sensation, and I am basking in the sounds he is making, each one a direct pathway to my core, lighting it more ablaze.
Agonizing seconds go by before I scream out in shock as he thrusts deeper inside me, pulling quickly back out to repeat the motion; the pressure is mounting already, each pounding movement a beat in our own sensual rhythm. My head is thrown back against the wall with a thud, and his mouth has already reclaimed the exposed skin of my neck.
I can feel the blood flooding to the surface as he sucks on the tender flesh; it’s going to leave a mark. But I want him to mark me - to claim me in some primal way. A familiar knot is forming in my abdomen, tightening with every move of his hips. The tension mounts, my breath quickens, the feeling proving to be too much.
The hand that’s not helping to hold me up reaches to push aside the fabric of my deep, v-neck dress, my breast popping out from its confines. His eyes light up, a liquid onyx, hardly any hint of green left. Before I know it, my nipple is in his mouth, his warm tongue swirling around the pebbled peak.
The added sensation pushes me over the edge, my muscles clench around him in a delicious, blissful way. With one last thrust, he screams his own release of ecstasy, burying his face into the crook of my neck and spilling himself inside me.
My entire body feels like jell-o, fatigued from the orgasmic high this Adonis has given me. Slowly, he pulls back from me, and carefully untangles my legs from around him, letting me slip back down the wall. He is helping to hold me up, and it is the only thing keeping my knees from buckling from under me as I place my feet on the floor.
I open my mouth to say something, anything, but I find no words come out. My mind is in a fog, unable to form intelligible thoughts. He has that cocky grin in place again, and I mirror him with a lop-sided smirk of my own.
Over the music I can hear a familiar someone calling my name; they’re close to the hallway that we’ve hidden ourselves in. I adjust my dress, covering myself appropriately, and begin to turn back towards the crowded dance floor. Pressing my palm into the wall as I turn - testing my legs - I feel his hand drop from my hip, my body immediately at a loss from his touch. I breathe in and force my wobbly legs to move.
“Thanks,” is the one word I finally say, glancing at him over my shoulder as I disappear.
He remains there, jaw dropped, looking too sexy for his own good. My inner whore is reveling in our exchange as I sashay away from his lingering eyes, but my subconscious is catching up with what just took place. I feel that familiar blush darken my cheeks - Holy Crow.
I hear his voice waft out from the hallway - our hallway - just as I slip into the crowd. As much as I would love to see him again, whoever he is, I know I can’t.
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