Stormy in Brazil 

by cherry.blossomz 

 

This is an outtake from the fan fiction “Righteous and Wicked”. 

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6219181/1/ 

 

The following is Edward’s back story before he comes to Forks. 

 
Here, alone, at work, Edward feels the only peace he has ever known. The 
horizon is mountainous and breathtaking. From his perch on the roof, Edward 
can see the main house, and the flaming red hair that belongs to the woman. 
 
He wants her.  
 
He doesn’t want to want her. He wants to be able to resist, He wants to work, 
and do this job, and do it well, and move on. He wants a lot of things that he 
doesn’t deserve to have. 
 
The hammer. He pounds. His hands and knees rub and scrape against the 
coarse shingles of the roof. Hammer to nail, over and over again. 
 
 
 
She stands on the patio drinking a glass of lemonade. The wind blows her hair 
and her dress back, she closes her eyes, submerged in the cool relief that the 
breeze brings. Sweat drips down between her breasts and she watches him 
working. Strong, his skin is darkened from the Brazilian sun, beaten by the wind.  
 

She falls into a daydream of him. His hands in places only her husband’s have 
been. It feels wrong and it feels right. She is slowly making up her mind, and 
once that’s been done, heaven help whoever tries to get in her way. 
 
 
 
Once his work for the day is done, and the sun goes down, he retreats into his 
trailer on the large property.  
 
Edward is unable to remain still after his days work. He always hopes that the 
furious pace of his labor will exhaust him to the point that his craving is subdued, 
but that is never the case. He fights to occupy his mind, rummaging through 
books, counting the faded water spots on the ceiling. These distractions are 
temporary and they are not enough to distract him.  
 
He is not strong enough to resist his thirst. 
 
But how to satisfy it? He doesn’t want to admit who his craving is truly for. When 
he closes his eyes he sees her on her knees, his hands tangled in her mane of 
red hair. But when he opens them, he remembers that he can have anyone. It 
doesn’t need to be her.  
 
He jumps out of bed, grabs his keys, and he is hunting. 
 
In the main house, Victoria and her husband James dine together, in deafening 
silence. 
 
 
 
Someone at a little road side place catches his eye as he drives. She’s dressed 
like a whore and he treats her like one. 
 
 
 
The sun is hotter than ever. He places hammer to nail and wonders if this is hell. 
He wonders what it will feel like when he is truly and justly punished for his sins. 
The guilt and regret rise up inside of him like vomit, and he swallows it back. 
 
Hammer to nail, hammer to nail, hammer to nail. 
 
 
 
Lara, the house maid, timidly approaches Victoria. She has been the victim of 
Victoria’s cruelty more times than she would like to remember. The job pays well, 
and she needs to feed her family, so she endures it. 
 

“Missa, you want for me to give ice water to the working man?” she asks in 
broken English. 
 
Lara goes down at least once a day to bring an icy drink to Edward, who has no 
means to make his own in the small trailer he works out of. All he has available to 
him is water from the tap, and on days like this, it is just not cold enough. Lara 
hopes that the guest house he is building for Victoria and James will one day be 
occupied by her and her family. She hopes that her employers will show her 
some mercy, but she is wrong. 
 
Victoria gazes out the window at Edward. His sweat covered sinewy muscles 
glimmer in the punishing heat. She speaks without knowing exactly what she’s 
doing. She is hypnotized, watching him. 
 
“No. No, I’ll take it to him.” 
 
Lara is shocked that Victoria wants to lift a finger, but then she looks over 
Victoria’s shoulder and sees him working, and immediately understands why 
Victoria wants to make this journey alone. 
 
“Where is Mr. James today?” Lara asks, hoping to subtly dissuade Victoria from 
the mistake that she is about to make. She has had enough encounters with 
Edward to know that he is the kind of man that hungers for a woman. She has 
been caught under his spell more than once, and her marriage is the only thing 
that has kept her strong against his charms. 
 
“He’s not here,” Victoria answers and takes the tray from Lara. “He’s never here,” 
she mutters under her breath as she walks out the back door. 
 
 
 
The tray is heavy and the heat is brutal. As the wife of a wealthy man, Victoria 
very rarely does any kind of labor—especially not the task carrying a heavy jug of 
ice water down the long and winding path to the construction site. 
 
Edward pauses from his labor and rolls his neck from side to side, stretching out 
his sore muscles. He rubs the back of his neck and drags his hand through his 
mussed and sweat soaked hair. 
 
His lips are parched. This is the time if day that the little house maid brings him 
his ice water. He gazes longingly up the path to the main house, and as if in an 
answer to an unspoken prayer, he sees her approaching. 
 
But it is not the maid. It is the woman. The woman. Victoria. 
 

Edward smirks to himself. A dream realized. A battle he didn’t even have to fight 
is easily won. He watches her approach, dressed in a barely there dress, the only 
thing to be worn in this intense heat. 
 
His sick mind flashes through all of the things he has planned to do to her. He 
can feel his thirst rising, and it isn’t for water, it is for flesh, her flesh. It sizzles in 
his blood and he is helpless to fight against this all-consuming need. 
 
He closes his eyes and tries to think clearly. Her husband is my employer. She is 
married. He is my boss. This job is what is important, not my fucking need…. 
 
He is trying so hard to resist. Deep inside, he knows that he cannot. 
 
 
 
Her arms begin to shake a little from the weight, and she’s afraid she may drop 
the jug. This is stupid. She should have let Lara take it to him. But then she looks 
up and sees him and she does not feel stupid, but she shakes even more. 
 
He stands atop the roof of the incomplete guest house and begins to climb down 
to her. 
 
The only time she has spoken to this man is when she and her husband hired 
him. The guest house was her idea, and in hindsight, Victoria is beginning to 
realize that she may have had ulterior motives in wanting this house built. 
 
Construction equals working men. Shirtless men, whom she is in charge of, 
unlike her constantly busy and inattentive husband. 
 
She watches Edward as he masterfully climbs down in nothing but a pair of tan 
shorts, and she feels herself melting inside. Her desire flows through her. 
 
She has never cheated on James, and she doubts she could ever go through 
with it. But Edward is so delectable… 
 
“Hi,” he greets her simply. He is almost a foot taller than her. Her ability to speak 
seems to have left her. She extends the tray to him. 
 
“Thank you,” he says. “Is something wrong with Lara?” he asks. 
 
“Yes. She is sick,” Victoria lies. 
 
“Mmmm,” Edward grunts and takes the jug from the tray, pouring the ice water 
into the glass that she has brought to him. 
 

He gulps greedily and Victoria watches his throat as he swallows. A bit of the 
water slides down from the corner of his mouth. The drop rolls down his chin, his 
neck, over his chest, onto his rippled stomach…. 
 
Her eyes have wandered, and when she remembers herself, she sees that 
Edward has caught her ogling him. 
 
“Would you like to come inside? Get out of the heat?” he asks her, gesturing 
toward his trailer. 
 
She panics. “No. No I should get back to the house.” 
 
Edward says no more, but very obviously looks her up and down. His eyes linger 
on her breasts, and then roam all the way to her feet, and back to her eyes. That 
melting feeling inside of her has turned into a full-on, powerful ache. She wants 
this man and now is her chance to be alone with him. 
 
“Are you sure?” he asks. 
 
“It is pretty hot out here. Maybe for just a minute,” she says. 
 
 
 
I’ll need a lot more time than that, Edward thinks. He takes the tray from her and 
she follows him into his tiny living quarters. 
 
There is no air conditioning, only a small fan by the bed and one in the window. 
She wonders how he can live like this, but then notices how much cooler it is 
inside the trailer than outside. 
 
He puts the tray on his little kitchenette counter and then picks up a small towel, 
wiping the sweat from his face and chest, and then he tosses it in his hamper. He 
grabs a glass from his dish drainer, pours more of the ice water, and then he 
walks toward Victoria.  
 
“Thanks for the water,” he says, and his eyes bore into hers as he places the 
cold glass into her hand. 
 
“You’re welcome,” she says and sips the cool drink. 
 
He watches her. 
 
If she is going to leave, now is the time. She should just put down the glass and 
walk out. Put-down-the-glass, she thinks, but she does not do it. That aching 
melting feeling keeps her feet rooted to the spot. 
 

Neither of them speaks and the air is tense. 
 
Edward has her here, just where he wants her, where he has wanted her since 
he laid eyes on her months ago, when he signed the contract to build the guest 
house. From that moment her face has floated through his mind at night and his 
thirst for her body has risen, and crested, and retreated, and risen again each 
day. He has found other women to meet his need as he always does, but now 
she is here, and he’s not going to let her get away. 
 
He takes the glass from her hands and then he boldly opens the top button of his 
shorts.  
 
Victoria’s mouth drops open, and this is the reaction that he wanted. 
 
“I-I-I- should go,” she stammers. Edward sees shock and fear in her eyes, and it 
makes him hard. Underneath the fear he sees the desire that he knows she feels 
for him. 
 
With his pants undone, he grabs the back of her head and guides her mouth to 
his. The kiss is deep and passionate and she responds to him. Her hands grasp 
his shoulders and she presses her body into his. She feels like she is falling and 
she thinks of James, but then puts him firmly out of her mind.  
 
Edward thrusts his tongue into her mouth, dominating the kiss as a prelude of 
what’s to come. She moans as he does so, telling him without words that she 
wants this. 
 
This is happening. 
 
He backs her up against the door and she slams into it, but the kiss never 
breaks. Her hands slide up into his hair and he grips her knee, pulling it up to his 
hip as he presses his hard cock against her. He rubs it back and forth against her 
clit and she gets wetter and wetter as the friction increases. He moves his lips to 
her neck and she gasps for breath. Then he whispers in her ear, “Do you want 
me to fuck you?” 
 
The words thunder inside her skull like a ton of falling bricks. No one has ever 
talked to her that way, and she can’t remember the last time her husband fucked 
her. 
 
“Yes,” she quickly and truthfully answers. 
 
There is no going back now.  This is happening. 
 

He lifts her up and she wraps her legs around him, shocked at how easy this is. 
She does not feel conflicted; her lust has completely taken over her mind. There 
bodies fit against each other perfectly as he walks with her toward the bathroom. 
 
He sets her down in the small stall shower and reaches behind her to turn on the 
cool water. Victoria watches as it sprays on his bare chest. He pulls her close to 
him and it soaks her hair. He runs his hands through it, gazing hungrily into her 
eyes. They stand together in the shower fully clothed, and the stream of water 
has them dripping wet. He stares at her body, the way the fabric of her dress now 
clings to her saturated flesh. He takes a minute to savor her curves. He wants to 
rip her clothes from her skin, but he knows that would leave a clue for James, 
and keeping this a secret is of the utmost importance. His job depends on it. 
 
He begins to slowly and carefully unbutton the front of her dress. “I’m going to 
make you feel so good,” he promises her, “I’m gonna fuck you to till you scream.” 
 
She is just a body to him, a means to an end. A way of quenching his thirst, but 
she doesn’t know that. 
 
Her chest pounds as she tries to breathe, her whole body sings with anticipation. 
He pulls the dress from her body and then, unable to help himself, he tears her 
underwear, ripping them off of her. She groans as he does so. Then, he pulses 
his fingers inside her. She is slick and ready for him. 
 
She looks in his eyes and gingerly reaches out for his waist, pulling his already 
undone shorts down his legs. He steps out of them and is completely bare before 
her. His cock stands erect, and Victoria is momentarily intimidated by the sheer 
size of him. It extends up his torso, past his belly button. He is going to make her 
scream, and she smiles, because she can’t wait. 
 
He slips his fingers out of her and pulls her hips into him, furiously rubbing his 
cock against her clit again. His tongue darts out and he licks her lips. She tries to 
kiss him, and he pulls his head back.  
 
“Kneel,” he tells her. She is putty in his hands, and she does what he says. 
 
“Open your mouth,” he demands. He has had this vision in his mind for months 
and he wants to make it real. 
 
She does and he inserts his cock between her open lips. He guides her head 
along his shaft and is surprised at how much of him she is willing and able to 
take. Her hot mouth feels so good on his now cool flesh. “That’s right,” he tells 
her. “Good girl.” 
 

He watches her on her knees sucking his cock as the water beats down on her, 
and he feels himself become unbearably hard. He needs to fuck her. He needs to 
be inside her. He needs to let himself fall into the blackness of his disease. 
 
He takes her hands and helps her to stand, then he spins her around so her back 
is to him. In one swift motion he pushes his rock hard cock between her legs and 
into her wet pussy.  
 
And she screams. 
 
He grabs her dripping hair in one fist and grips her hip with the other. He is 
rough, repeatedly pounding relentlessly against her. He watches her hands trying 
to find purchase against the shower tiles. She moans and the slapping sound of 
his hips meeting the wet flesh of her ass is deafening. He feels himself sinking 
into the black; his body operates separately from his mind, solely focused on the 
goal of meeting his need. He pulls her head back so that his mouth is once again 
at her ear. Then he slides his hands around to the front of her body, playing with 
her tits and her clit as he fucks her slowly. 
 
Her body moves with his rhythm. “How does my cock feel inside you? Do I fuck 
you better than your husband does?” 
 
“My husband’s too busy to be bothered to fuck me,” she breathily and bluntly tells 
him. “And your cock is amazing.” 
 
Victoria is enjoying his slow pace and the shivers that are rolling through her 
body as he plays with her clit. She pushes back against him, relishing the way 
her body slides along his enormous cock. Edward nibbles at her ear lobe, and his 
hot breath against her makes her skin prickle. It feels good, but she likes it rough. 
 
“Edward, I want you to make me come” she tells him.  
 
You asked for it, Edward thinks, and then he gives her one last wet and 
passionate kiss before unleashing the last of his pent up fury upon her body. 
 
He turns her around, and lifts her up, her legs wrap against his waist and her 
back is pressed against the slippery, cold tiles. Edward holds her up by her 
armpits and then lowers her onto his still hard and throbbing cock. She cries out 
as he fills her again. He licks and sucks at each of her nipples as his hips 
mercilessly pulse into her. 
 
“Shit. Fuck. Ah. Yes.” She’s about to come, but Edward doesn’t care. He is 
submerged in his own pleasure—these few moments that he needs to survive. 
The pinching, coiling feeling rises inside of him and then he releases his load of 
come inside her. All he sees is blackness and he bites down slightly on her tits, 

then he feels her convulsing around him. Her pleasure is unnecessary, but it 
amplifies his. It pounds through his whole body, a mind blowing orgasm.  
 
But as soon as it’s over, he feels sick. 
 
She tries to kiss him, but he moves his head away. He is done with her.  
 
He shuts the water off and steps out of the shower. He quickly wraps a towel 
around his waits and tosses one at her. 
 
“You should probably go,” he tells her. 
 
The look that she gives him makes him regret those words. He has seen that 
look before. The look of a woman who wanted more than just a one time fuck. 
The look of a woman who will seek revenge for his brush off. 
 
He thought it was perfectly clear that he was using her to get off. Isn’t that what 
she was doing? She’s married. What the fuck did she think this was about? 
 
She hurriedly wraps her wet dress around her body and storms out of the trailer 
before he is able to ask her any of these questions. 
 
 
 
Victoria marches back up to the house humiliated and filled with rage. When she 
enters, Lara is washing dishes.  
 
Lara sees that she is soaking wet and her skin is flushed red from head to toe. 
She quickly looks away, so as not to upset her. It is very obvious to Lara that 
Victoria has just done something that she should not have. This can only end 
badly. 
 
Victoria says nothing and runs up the steps to her bedroom. 
 
Through the kitchen window, Lara sees Edward exit his trailer and climb back up 
to the roof. She watches him vigorously banging the hammer to the nail over and 
over again under the hot sun, and then she hears James’ car pull into the 
driveway. 
 
 
 
Edward lies in bed, the coolness of the night blows in through the window as he 
reads his book. He tries not to think of how despicable he is. He hates himself. If 
he could crawl out of his own skin he would. 
 
A thumping on the door startles him. 

 
“Open this mother-fucking door or I will break it down!”  
 
Edward peeks out the window and sees an irate and screaming James…holding 
a gun in his hand. 
 
Edward knew this was coming. He sighs, places his book inside his already 
packed suitcase, jumps out the window, and runs. 
 
He runs and he runs, off of the property and onto the street. He finally hitches a 
ride in the back of a pick-up truck. He stares up at the starlit sky wondering 
where he will go next. Wherever he goes, he needs to have rules. He can’t keep 
fucking up like this. If he can’t fight this sickness, then he has to make rules. 
 
At the small airport, he cleans himself up in the bathroom and puts on a suit. 
Then he boards a plane bound for Washington State. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
E builds in Brazil 
 
UST with him and Victoria 
 
James goes crazy