This is all human. HUGE THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA! Ocean of Dreams. The best of the best. Thanks, Ocean.
This is all human. HUGE THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA! Ocean of Dreams. The best of the best. Thanks, Ocean.
The first time he ever saw her, he supposed that every girl in the room was probably holding a boy friend close and rubbing his lap, just so he didn't look at her.
His girlfriend was trying to do the same thing. Her name was Angela, she was in his lap, and it irritated him to no end that he couldn't clearly see her.
From what he'd heard, she was perfect, maybe a little shy and sarcastic, vain, but beautiful. She was blond, shorter than he, with angel blue eyes and a body that any person would kill for. Not too skinny, her breasts were large, her bottom was curvaceous, but she was petite. Apparently, she looked uncomfortable in her skin; she wore jeans and a T shirt that was from her old school. Some preppy place in New York.
When his girl friend pushed her lips against his nose, he'd had enough. He shoved her off, pulling his football jersey back down over his stomach and six pack. "Stop," he snarled at her.
Angela, fake, blond, not really that pretty, but she was single, shrieked, "Emmy!" Her hands came to rest back on his chest.
Emmett flinched out from under her hands. "I have to go throw this away." He pointed to her tray of not eaten food and then grabbed it. Almost running away.
He was a good country boy. Smart, Captain of the Football Team, liked by everyone. So, when had he and his girlfriend started sliding down this inevitable slope? He sighed, tilting the tray into the garbage.
Emmett's eyes traveled up a pair of killer legs, past two twin breasts, and met a pair of electric blue eyes. "What?" he asked quietly.
She smiled and her eyes lit up. "Rosalie... I'm new here." She extended a small hand from the clutter of the binder she was carrying.
Emmett put out his hand. There was this undeniable attraction between them, a spark that hung in the air between them, "Emmett... I'm old here."
She chuckled, brushing her fingers over the palm of his out stretched hand. "Emmett, I like that name."
"Thanks," he remembered smiling at her, excited beyond belief by her two words.
She turned around, getting ready to go.
"Do you want me to show you around town?" Emmett wanted to stem the stupid words as soon as he said them. They sounded stupid to his ears, a little childish.
She turned around. "I'd like that."
"Hey!" Emmett relaxed the minute she sprang into view. Her feet were bare, her blue eyes alight with a beautiful glow. "Mom, this is Emmett. He agreed to show me around town."
Emmett remembered shaking her mom's hand, impressed by how much she looked like her daughter even though she had to have been at least twenty years older. Then her mom left, leaving them to stare at each other in silence.
Emmett could recall every detail about what she looked like that night. She was wearing a sunlight yellow sun dress that dipped low in the front, exposing her creamy cleavage without looking trashy. The hem of the dress played like a lover at the valleys and hills and curves at her waist, flirted with her calves. He wanted to kiss her. Long, sensuous blond curls spilled down her back. "Emmett?" She asked uncertainly. Her hand reached out to hesitantly brush his cheek.
Emmett felt sparks jump from her hand to his cheek. Ashamed, would've described how he felt. She'd caught him staring. "Yeah?"
"Do I look okay? Is this-?"
"You look..." He shook his head. "Yeah... You look great."
"Thanks." She smiled like she had just gotten half of the world as a present from her true love.
Emmett was immediately self conscious, pulling up the low riding, dark jeans he was wearing and wishing he could button another button on the white Oxford he wore. He scuffed his tennis shoes into the dirt.
He looked up at the feel of her hand on his shoulder. "Between you and me, you don't look half bad either."
Emmett smiled. "Let's go?"
They became fast friends. Two months together and they knew.
Emmett knew her like she was his wife. Her faults, where she was afraid of going, what she was afraid of talking about. It was simple really. The way they were together, Emmett meant.
They flowed like water, talking of nothing and everything. Sometimes, he would catch the sexual tension between them and have to leave. Sorry, Rose, he would apologize, and then he was gone. It was a truth though. The fact of the matter, was that a simple kind of sexual tension and love for one another held them together.
"I'm going to miss you." Rosalie laughed quietly as Emmett's punched her arm playfully. She knew how much he would miss her, could read it in his honest eyes, but she would miss him more. Especially where she was going. Rosalie was used to how uncomfortable his own feelings made Emmett. So she laughed with him, trying to down play his own discomfort.
"I'm going to miss you more." Rosalie admitted quietly. When Emmett didn't laugh, she knew they'd hit a serious conversation.
"Why can't you tell me where you're leaving to?"
"Because," because my parents won't let me, because I basically have a groom sitting in some Penthouse in New York, waiting to screw me, Rosalie could feel tears prick her vision as she thought of Royce, as she thought of how old fashioned her parents had been in selling her off to the highest bidder.
"No, come on... Don't cry, Rose." Emmett pushed a hand over his brown stubble, sticking it up at odd angles. He put his other hand on her cheek, catching tears.
Rosalie immediately felt the attraction between them catch fire and it was then she knew. She had to make love to him before she left.
"I'm not going to let you go."
"Hasn't your mom ever told you that you can't catch rain?"
"I have to go, Emmett! Tomorrow! And nothing is going to keep me here! Alright? Not. Even. You." Emmett shied away from the intensity of her yelling, shied away from the dangerous, simmering blue depths of her eyes.
"Can't we figure this out first?" He felt small, scared. She flung his football sweatshirt on the ground and stamped her small foot on it.
"There is nothing to figure out." She said resolutely.
Emmett frowned, glaring at her. "You can't honestly believe that."
"Why do you have to be so stubb-?"
"Damn! Stop making me the bad guy!"
"Leave me alone, Emmett. Please." Her words struck him as sad.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Nothing." And she walked away from him.
Emmett knew that had been his good bye. Nothing, repeated itself over and over in his head. The dead look in her eyes, the fear in her voice, the shaking hands that held his sweat shirt so tightly. Emmett hung his head and walked home.
Later that night, midnight, there was a knock on his window.
Emmett crawled out of bed, yanking on his jeans as he looked out the window and saw Rosalie.
He looked into her eyes for one moment, before forcefully throwing his window open. His bedroom door was locked, and even if it wasn't, his dad wouldn't have come in here; his dad was drunk.
"Can we talk?"
Emmett turned around at her soft voice, finally looking at what she wore.
It took him a moment, his hands shook, but he turned on a lamp.
Rosalie stood before him, pale and godly, wearing a man's, long sleeved, white Oxford which Emmett immediately recognized as his own.
"What the hell?" He whispered. Emmett could feel the possibility hang in the air. What was this? To his eyes, it was like an invitation. Emmett, touch me, thats what her out fit screamed at him.
Rosalie swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, not letting rejection be an option to her. "I thought you'd want this back." She unbuttoned the buttons slowly, letting it slide first off her pebbled nipples, then off her body.
Emmett stared at her. First at the flow of her porcelain skin over her body. How it arched and bent and twisted and dove with curves that he had only dreamt about. Then, he was a man, after all, his eyes traveled down into the dusky thatch of hair between her legs. "I..."
"I'm sorry... If you don't want me." She whispered.
Emmett stood, shimmying his jeans back off and onto the floor. "Come here." He murmured.
Rosalie walked. Slowly with one foot landing in front of the other and her eyes on the floor, she walked. When she was half a foot from him, she stopped.
"I want you." Emmett assured her in a small voice. "But can't you feel the...?" Emmett couldn't explain it; he couldn't do anything but put it into words. "I love you." He let the words hang between them for one second.
Rosalie looked up at him through wet lashes. "I love you too." Her tears hurt him a lot.
"Are you a--?"
"Yeah." Rosalie nodded, her curls falling over her shoulders to cover up her nipples. "Look. You don't have to do this. I'm sorry if I'm not--."
But it didn't matter, because, in the warm glow of lamp light, Emmett had picked her and pushed her hot core against his throbbing desire. "You're beautiful." He purred against her throat.
Rosalie hummed back an answer. Her back plastered against the warm wall of his room. "Emmett?"
He looked up, raising his thick lashes to look at her.
Emmett didn't need to be told twice.
He let his hands slide up around her face. Emmett cupped her chin, bringing his lips down on hers in a kiss that had been two months in the making. In this kiss burned a sexual desire that he couldn't put into words. Emmett didn't know how being sexually attracted to her, had turned into wanting to do anything to see her happy. He didn't care.
Emmett kissed down her neck, moving his pelvis away from hers as her hands slid down his chest, clumsily pulling down his boxers. Her gasp of shock as her ground against her was encouragement enough. He, slowly, listening to her small mewls of approval, reached down, palming a breast.
For one moment, Emmett let his palms slide against the twins' nipples. He let them harden under him, just until she whimpered quietly. "Emmett." Passed her lips as he bent down, taking her left breast into his mouth. Emmett could feel her silent shock of pleasure, and knew it when a small drop of moisture from her ran down his shaft. "Emmett. Emmett. Emmett."
His tongue rubbed against her nipple, the roughness of his dry mouth providing an amazing friction. Emmett wanted to come apart when her hands accidentally fumbled against his abs. He could feel a muscle in his stomach jump, his cock jerking in response.
"Rosalie. Hale." He said quietly.
He finally looked up at her, just in time to see her eyes slide close on more tears. "Can I have your virginity?"
She opened her eyes, there was a violent anger buried in her blue depths. "Yes." She said quietly, but her voice was laced with a strong conviction.
Emmett sighed, reaching down to part her labia and nudge forward. Rosalie watched him with a fascination. He could feel her tense around his size for but a moment before she was back to slumping against his shoulder.
She nodded against him.
Her teeth sunk into his shoulder when he took her, but other than that, she wriggled then lowered herself farther onto him. "Deeper." She immediately pleaded.
Emmett looked at her. "We have to move to the bed."
"Later." She promised, her hands already locked around his neck, ready to touch him.
"Later." Emmett agreed, pushing deeply into her.
Then on the bed, her breasts bouncing wildly as he brought her release with his mouth and fingers. She smelled distinctly of the prairie on a morning when dew coated the grass. She was perfect.
When Rosalie woke up, she woke him up too. "Bye." She murmured.
Emmett wasn't letting her go yet. "One more time." He pleaded, feeling himself harden as her hands slid around his shoulders.
Rosalie nodded, tears sparkling against the blue of her eyes.
Emmett flipped them.
This time, he went slow. Emmett put all of his weight on her, kissing, licking, driving her into a sweet oblivion that he never wanted to end. He flicked her clit with sure fingers, surprised to find her more responsive than she was last night.
But she held her orgasm at bay for longer too.
Emmett pushed deeply into her, his lips locked with hers the whole time. He wasn't willing to give up a moment of this time with her.
When she came apart with a loud moan, Emmett followed her with a silent scream.
"I-- Love you." She murmured. Her breathing was heavy, her breasts slick with sweat.
Emmett nodded, pulling her against his overly warm body. "Don't leave."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I love you."
She stood then, grabbing a small bag he hadn't seen her bring. In it she pulled out the yellow sun dress. "Goodbye, Emmett."
Emmett suddenly found it okay to miss her. He had tried school, but ended up skipping out of his second period class and hiding in the forest behind the school, dreaming wistfully of a blond girl with a voice that put angles to shame and a body that would make any guy hard.
When Emmett went home, he found a note from his dad, saying that his dad would be out of town for a week. Whatever, Emmett's mind immediately slid to the other person that had left the town.
That night, Emmett made a bonfire out back. He burned whatever he could find, wishing the fire could consume his memories the same way it consumed the wood. His body longed for her with a fierce pain beneath his heart. His eyes longed for her softly swaying blond hair.
When Emmett looked into the fire, he swore he saw her.
She was dancing for him. Her smile large, her eyes twinkling and deep, sultry blue. She was aroused for him, she was ready for him. Her nipples were hard peaks against the yellow of her sun dress. Her hair was a tussled mess. Eyes rimmed with thick lashes that brushed her cheeks just as his fingers did. That dress played with her calves, dancing and twirling delightfully against the pale, smooth skin on her legs.
Emmett took a long swig of the bottle of vodka he held.
She leaned forward, toward him, her hand outstretched.
Emmett leaned forward too.
"Don't be afraid. I'll find you." The flames taunted.
Emmett graduated with his class. He went to work as a model for a couple of years, finally settling into the quiet life of a grower and planter in Tennessee. He fell in love with a wild girl from Italy who left him. Her raven black hair and blue eyes walked out the door without a back ward glance. He'd called out her name while he made love to the Italian.
Eventually, he came back to sports, beginning to work for the local school after three years of flitting from thing to thing, trying desperately to stop memories from rushing back. He wanted something to consume his time, because that damn girl with the fucking yellow dress and shitty, shimmering hair wouldn't leave him alone.
"Hello? Mr. Cullen? This is May, your secretary, and I'm calling to tell you that you need to meet Mr. Marlo at the local coffee shop tomorrow at ten thirty am. Thanks."
Emmett pressed the phone back on the receiver with a grunt of acknowledgment and a slam of his fist on the table. Whoever Mr. Marlo was, he was about to meet the business man from hell.
"Excuse me? I'm Emmett-."
"Back here, Mr. Cullen." A waiter walked to a veiled off section of the place and swung open a small, curtain to another booth with a curtain shielding the front of that booth. Emmett sighed, fixing the waiter with a tired smile.
He knew he looked like hell. In dark jeans and a track shirt that hugged every inch of his chest, he looked more the part of a player than a scout. "Thanks." He slid a twenty into the waiter's hand, stalking toward the booth. "Mr. Mar-."
Emmett's breathing hitched, came back again in rough gasps of breath. He palmed his eyes, wishing desperately for a cold glass of water. His body immediately reacted to her, just as he knew it would.
"I loved you." He accused her almost silently.
Here she was. The same girl he'd met all those years ago with shimmering blue eyes and an Angel's voice.
Time had worn slowly on her, she looked to be a little over her twenty five years. Her blue eyes had large, purplish bruises under them. Her smile was thin looking, sad. Her body's posture said that she had accepted defeat as a large part of her life and Emmett, looking at her, saw faint purple finger marks on her neck.
Relief made her smile more sincere. "You came." She murmured, her hands clasped the water in front of her. He could see the water shake. "Sit?"
Emmett sat numbly.
"How are you?" She asked. Hoarse voice.
"Do you have anything you want to-?"
Emmett knew it would've taken him longer to get mad at her had she not asked him that. But he also knew that her being back, after missing her for so long, made him want her so bad that it hurt. "I can't believe you came back."
She didn't say anything, didn't raise her eyes to defend herself.
"You leave me…You fuck me, then you leave me!" Emmett was mad. So mad he was yelling at her. "I don't want to see you. And I don't want to love you! Because my shitty, fucking mind can't let you go! Rosalie! Damn! Just-."
"He hurt me." She whispered.
And that stopped Emmett right there. "What?"
She tipped her water onto her napkin, spilling the cold substance onto the white fabric. Then, she held it to her cheek, wincing slightly. Emmett knew right there that she was telling the truth. "Stop, Rose. I don't need to see it."
"You don't love me." She murmured.
"No," Emmett got up, re-situating himself on the bench next to her... but she scooted away. "No.. No." Emmett finished with a sigh. "I never stopped loving you."
Rosalie's hand rose as if slow motion. "Help me." Her fingers glided down his cheek, touching his lips lighter than the brushing of snow against a tree's branches.
"I will. I will, I swear." Emmett vowed quietly. "But..."
Her fingers brushed against his cheeks. "I love you." She said simply.
"I love you too." Emmett murmured.
He opened his eyes. "You're going to have to stop that... It's making me rather uncomfortable in places."
She looked down at his lap. "I remember." She shuddered deliciously, her curves wriggling.
Emmett looked, finally, at what she was wearing. Nothing really befitting her place in society. Just dark, form hugging jeans and an off the shoulders, black sweater. "Can't I just take you on the table?"
"No!" Rosalie fairly yelled.
He looked at her for a moment. "Whatever you want. Then I get to have you."
"A bath. A warm, not worried about Royce, bath."
"You look just like I remember." She turned around before sinking back into the bath with a heaving sigh of relief. "Beautiful. Absolutely perfect."
"I tried to stay this way for you." She whispered. Suddenly, though, she was frantic. Her eyes searched his, her hands balled into fists. "We have to leave here. I have a house,that Royce doesn't know about, in the hills in Montana. We have to go there. He can't find me. He knows you're here! We have to pack! We have to leave!" She shuddered, cold, and grabbed his white shirt. "Take me away from here."
Emmett did what any man in his position would have done; he stared down at the hard nipples pressed against his chest. "I'll do anything for you."
"Get the next flight to Montana. Today. Tomorrow. I don't care, but no later. Then... I'm all yours."
Emmett packed his suitcase, all but forgetting about her for a time. It seemed to him, that all his life had, up until that point, been a struggle back to her. He had to be her friend, he had to make love to her, he had to wait. Why did he continue to torture himself with her?
Of course, the answer was more simple than anything in his life had ever been. Love. And it seemed to fit his symptoms perfectly. Hard time finding words near her, at least if they weren't perfect or lovely. Then there was the shortness of breath, her lips always left him breathless.
Emmett leaned against the wall, finished zipping his suitcase.
"I thought you forgot about me." Her voice mumbled from the doorway.
Emmett looked up to see the most perfect, naked, wet Rosalie Hale he'd ever seen. His gaze was predatory. "Its twilight." She murmured, drawing a hand through her wet hair.
Emmett looked at her. Same perfect breasts, same thatch of golden hair between her legs, same stomach. He loved her all over again in that moment. His knees sunk farther into the carpet the closer she walked to him. Soon, she was standing right in front of him, her woman hood directly level with his head.
"I haven't tasted you in four years." Emmett murmured even as his lips slid up her inner thighs, even as he let her sit on his shoulders. "I wanted you so bad sometimes."
He slipped his tongue along her back opening, surprised when she let out a throaty moan. "Do I have to be quiet?" She asked when he stopped to look at her.
Emmett shook his head, loving the way she gripped his shoulders. Like she was about to fall and he was the only thing keeping her there. "No." He said simply.
He dipped his tongue into the part of her where her opening was, sticking it, first, just the tiniest bit into her, feeling her contract and smelling her arousal was heaven. Then he began to lap at her, slurping like he was a dying man. She writhed upon the smallest bit of contact from him, positively ready for him.
Emmett stood after he was done with her first orgasm and freed himself from his confines before turning on a lamp and pushing her against the wall...
Rosalie, once they had landed in Montana, had directed the Cab Driver to her house with a generous tip. She had then had the Driver take in their things, shown Emmett the garage because he said he would go to the store, complained that she was sore in places that no one had touched in four years, and promptly curled up to go to sleep.
It took Emmett an hour at the store. He got everything over again. Necessity items, food, anything else that would fit in the cart. When he got back to her house, Home, he unpacked everything in less than three hours...
Then he crept to their bedroom. One side of the bedroom was huge bay windows that looked out over mountains and unbroken landscape for miles, the other side had one door that led to the bathroom. The focal point was an elegant, dark wood sleigh bed with blood red sheets.
Emmett flopped onto the bed, careful to lift up the blankets so he could raise himself over her without waking her. He pushed her shirt up, thanking all Gods present that she slept in nothing but a large T shirt.
His head was so close to her nipple when she woke up that, before she could squeak in protest, Emmett's fingers had masterfully entered her, and his mouth was down on her breasts.
She became breathless quickly, crying out a hoarse release.
This was when Emmett entered her. She arched into him, clawing him deeper and deeper into her body, calling his name at the top of her lungs and going at it with him on any and all surfaces in the house.. After the table she complained of a sore back but was then taken roughly against the shower.
She didn't care.
"Ally!" Rosalie ran after their daughter in the snow, throwing her arms around Emmett's neck when she fell back against a snow angel.
"Mommy! Dada!" The little girl with brown corkscrew curls shrieked, she then threw herself down on Emmett. Laughing.
And Emmett laughed too.
Thanking whoever was listening for his wife.