Chapter Thirteen

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New Story...I'm attempting a drabble. Rather, my version of drabble...a 1000 words or less per chapter. (Dear God, I'm afraid.) But excited, too. It'll force me to be more forward with my plotlines and yeah. Anyhow, none of this mine. I'm not, nor ever will be, Stephenie Meyer. I just like to play with her characters.

Chapter Thirteen

At eleven, I drove myself to Verdant. It was a newer club in downtown Seattle. I wore some black clothing and easily gained access to the club. The dance floor was filled with young patrons, grinding on each other. I wrinkled my nose and went to the bar, ordering a scotch neat. Across the club, I saw my friends. They all were laughing and talking with each other, downing shots and acting like normal young people.

Part of me wanted to go over there and act like the twenty-six year old man I was and not the undercover operative, the wunderkind of the FBI. However, another part of me was terrified of that normalcy. Turning off my emotions and becoming a thug for the federal government was safe. I knew how to act when I was under. I didn't know how to act in normal social situations.

Why was I here?

I was getting ready to go, not feeling comfortable about being at the club. I was risking too much by being here. If I fucked up the op to get into the del Cigno Syndicate, I'd lose my job at the bureau. The bureau was the one constant for me and I needed it.

As I finished my drink, a petite brunette with big doe eyes and a sexy dress, pushed her way to the bar. She slammed down some money and growled out an order. "Tequila. Patron, if you have it." She bit her lip and cocked her hip. "Make it a double." Her voice was husky and sultry. I wanted to hear it screaming my name. What. The. Fuck?

"Awfully strong liquor for a little girl," I said, without thinking. Why? Why are you talking to this girl? She'll eat you for breakfast.

She turned and looked at me. Her eyes appraised my appearance, licking her lips seductively. "I'm not a little girl," she purred.

No, you aren't. My pants grew tighter and I was immediately attracted to this spitfire in front of me. Her hair was dark brown and curled around her slender shoulders. Her skin was slightly tanned, glowing ethereally under the pulsing lights of the club. Her lips were pink and pouty. For the first time in my life, I wanted to touch someone. I wanted to run my fingers through her long, silken hair. I wanted to glide my fingertips along her smooth skin. I wanted to kiss her pouty, pink lips. My dick twitched and it wanted in on the party, too. Down boy. "I can see that," I said, my voice deepening as I looked at her, memorizing her body and imagining what she would look like without her sinful dress.

She moved closer to me. My heart started stammering. "You want more proof?" she asked as she looked up at me through her thick, beautiful eyelashes. Her hand gently laid on my forearm. I shuddered but the usual panic I felt whenever anyone touched me didn't come. I licked my lips, staring at her tiny hand on my arm. It was warm, hot even. As it rested there so innocently, a million jolts of pleasure ran through my body and I didn't want her to let go of my arm. I wanted to feel her skin everywhere on me.

Dangerous thoughts, Cullen. Walk away. You're undercover. I looked back at her, my mind very clear. "Probably not, little one," I sighed. Tenderly, I lifted her hand from my arm and kissed her knuckles. Her skin smelled of warm vanilla and something that was spicy. It was a heady fragrance. I inhaled deeply before picking up her money and pressing it into her palm. I tossed a fifty at the bartender. "It's on me," I said, giving her a crooked smile. With a wink, I weaved through the crowd and left the club.

Once outside, I damn near sprinted to my car and slid into the smooth leather of my Volvo. "Holy fuck," I panted as I leaned forward against the steering wheel. I smacked my head against the wheel, causing the horn to honk several times. "Get a grip, Cullen. Breathe. She's just some little girl. You don't have time for this shit. Forget about her. Just forget about it."

After a few calming breaths, I drove back to my shithole apartment and went directly to the bathroom. I stripped out of my black clothing and into the pitiful excuse of a shower. The water flowed over me and I fisted my cock. Twisting and stroking my length, I imagined the beauty from the club.

I pictured her on her knees, sucking my cock and coming down her throat.

I imagined her riding me, scratching her red nails along my chest and tracing my tats with those fingers. Feeling her body around my cock as she milked me dry.

I dreamt of her as I made love to her until she cried from pleasure.

"Little one," I whispered as my cock exploded, spewing my release down the drain of my tub. I sat down on the edge of the tub, breathing heavily. "Little one," I repeated reverently. "My little one."

A/N: So, our Bella has made an impression on Mafia/FBIward. Anyhow, I need some ideas for tats for Edward. I've got one for his forearm. Give me some ideas of what else he should have on his body and where. Only picture for this chapter is of Edward's car and a reminder of his tattoo on his forearm. That picture is on my blog. Link for that is on my profile. I'm also on Facebook: Tufano79's Twilight Fanfiction Appreciation or on twitter: tufano79. Leave me some!

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