The radio comes to life as he cranks the car, and I listen for a few beats before grinning and turning to him. “Joan Jett?” I confirm, and he smiles at me before pulling out of the parking lot. Joan is singing about wanting to touch, definitely working the mood in my favor.
“Yes, how'd you know?”
“I'm not in grade school, and I dance for a living. I know a ridiculous number of artists and songs,” I return laughingly.
“That brings up an excellent question. How old are you?”
I watch his profile as he keeps his eyes on the deserted road. “I'm twenty-four, which I know you aren't.”
“No, I'm not,” he snickers. “I'm thirty-three. My mom loves Joan Jett.”
“You're rich.” It's not a question, because it's pretty obvious he has money to burn.
“Yes.” Equally staccato, with zero elaboration.
“Hmm.” I'm at a loss for what else to say, so I watch as Edward pulls into the parking lot at Kerry Park, the Space Needle lit up in the distance. Tiny dots of light show against the backdrop of black that I know is the mountain range.
He puts the car in park, leaving the engine running. “I have no preconceived ideas here. You clearly make the rules, so-”
“Shut up and kiss me.” I yank on his collar until we meet halfway, mouths consuming and tongues darting. I pull his hair, the way I've wanted to since I first saw him the night before, and he lets out a sexy moan. My tongue finds it's way behind his ear and down his neck, swirling over his pulse. His hands are still in his lap, so I pull away.
“What?” he asks, short of breath and looking dazed.
“Get in the back,” I order. I mess with the radio dials until I find something I like, and as Demi tells me she wants to take her lover deep, I know I've found the right song. I watch as Edward gets out and proceeds into the backseat in a very staid fashion. Meanwhile, I'm hanging between the two front seats, just looking at him. Taking pity on his confused expression, I climb between the seats and immediately straddle his lap.
“I'm going to fuck you,” I purr.
“Thank God,” he groans as my heated center comes in contact with his. Everything about him is hard; his chest, his abs, his thighs, and definitely his cock.
“Yes, Edward,” I moan in response as I rock against him.
“Please tell me your name,” he begs.
Something about his pleading does me in, and I look at his face. His eyes are closed, his head tilted back, and I scrape my teeth up his throat as I palm the outside of his pants. “It's Bella.”