This chapter more than earns its M rating, so be warned. It's triple-lemon-rated, because Emmett thinks about sex a lot, and is obsessed with Rosalie's boobs. And ass. Everything about her, basically. Should it happen to disappear because of content violations, I have a live journal account (same username). I'll post it there.

And now, finally, on to Emmett.


We had spent the whole night in bed, doing the things that a human couple would do - and I wasn't referring to doin' the nasty, although there was plenty of that going on too. In addition to the horizontal mambo, we also talked, cuddled, read, and wrote. Our bed was our bubble, our island, a place where the rest of the world faded into the background. In it, we shared our secrets and fears, and professed our love for each other. But it wasn't just the place we came to to connect physically and emotionally; it was also one of the places where I could help her almost forget she wasn't human.

Rosalie was more consumed by the road not taken than was healthy for anyone, let alone a vampire who felt things more keenly, more permanently, than any other creature alive. She allowed the possibilities of what might have been to color her life with regret. I don't think a day went by that she didn't think about what might have been. Her yearning to give birth to and raise children so consumed her when I first got to know her, that I made it my life's purpose to alleviate her pain, to find ways to give her as close to a human existence as was possible for a vampire. Naturally I was powerless to do anything about children, but I found ways for us to engage in activities that gave us the illusion of humanity. One of them involved spending time in bed doing things other than sleep - which we couldn't do anyway - and sex.

There were times, when she slid under the covers next to me with deep contentment softening her features, that I could have sworn she was imagining she had just tucked a sleeping baby in next door, and we were regular human parents finishing up a few tasks and winding down a little before settling in to sleep. The fact that we were currently discussing Bella, the baby of the family, probably made the illusion of our humanity and parenthood seem even more real to her.

We had put our papers and books aside and were lying on our sides under the covers, faces only inches apart. "I just don't think she is ready," Rosalie whispered, so that Bella, who was lying on the grass in the garden with Edward, both of them watching the night sky for Leonids streaking across the black void, couldn't hear her.

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Rose," I whispered back, my eyes fixed on the rosy pout of her lips. "You're preaching to the converted. The whole family is on the same page about this. Well, except for Bella, but that's to be expected." I reached for her and cupped her face, brushing the pad of my thumb over her plump lower lip. "You know how newborns are, constantly over-estimating their abilities. But that doesn't mean she can't start prepping for college now. When the time comes, we'll talk her into taking some of her prerequisites online or by correspondence, that way she'll have a head start when Carlisle decides she's ready to be around humans for extended periods of time."

Rosalie lifted herself of the bed, the sheet slipping to her waist, and guided me onto my back, laying herself down again, her head nestling beneath my chin, her two glorious boobs embracing my ribcage. I inhaled a breath of her and lifted a hand, threading my fingers into her silky hair and letting the soft strands slither through them like liquid gold.

"She still thinks she is going to start college in the spring, Em," she continued, absently fingering one of my nipples.

I hissed, feeling my cock stir against my thigh. "So? Let her," I said, my voice getting raspy as she started trailing her fingers lightly down my stomach and back up to my nipple again in ever widening circles. "She'll find out soon enough, if she hasn't already, that when Carlisle says no, he means it."

Rosalie sighed, her wandering fingers traveling lower and lower. "She's going to pitch a royal fit."

"I repeat - so?" I croaked, catching her fingers as their tips disappeared under the covers and skimmed over my pubic hair. The sheet was beginning to tent over my hips. "Let Carlisle handle it. It's not like the old man hasn't already made it perfectly clear that it ain't gonna happen."

Rose was about to speak again, clearly unwilling to let the issue go, so I threw the bed sheet back and gripped her hips, easily lifting her astride mine. She squeaked in surprise, bracing her hands against my chest as my very erect cock made itself at home between her butt cheeks. I smirked inwardly. Like a hot dog nestled in a a bun. Naturally, this train of thought led places and gave me ideas. But when I lifted her hips again and tried to take the road less traveled inside her, she took control and shifted back a little, sinking down slowly onto me with a satisfied and sexy hum. There would be no backdoor action for me this time. I sighed, and there may have been some pouting involved too. Manly pouting, obviously.

Our hands met in the air between us and we laced our fingers together. Our eyes locked. Bracing herself on my hands, she began rocking against me, slowly at first, doing that squeezing thing to my cock that she was so good at. My eyes drifted south of her face, to her fantastic tits, bouncing gently with her every rise and fall above me.

She clenched around me like a fist, and my eyes rolled back in my head. "," I moaned, starting to thrust my hips up to meet hers. I dropped my elbows to the mattress, pulling her down and forcing her to lean over me. Her head fell forward, hair tumbling over my chest, brushing back and forth over my skin with every smack of my pelvis against hers. Goosebumps erupted across my chest at the feather light touch and my nipples tightened painfully. I opened my eyes, unable to bear not seeing her for a second longer, and drank in the sight of her looming over me as we fucked slowly, her skin glowing warmly in the candlelight. It's official: I'm a girl, I thought, almost laughing out loud. She had turned me into a total pussy, and I loved it.

I did however have to compensate by getting rougher with her. My manliness demanded it. I dug my heels into the mattress, giving myself more leverage and power, and picked up speed. Her tits were bouncing vigorously now, every one of my slapping thrusts forcing a faint, breathy cry out of her.

As usual, she didn't make it to climax on top of me. Between my impatience and need for control, I rarely let her take us all the way in this position, and this time was no different. With a hungry snarl, I snatched her wrists out of the air and flipped us over, positioning her beneath me so I could take over, never once pulling out of her. Supporting her lower back to keep her us connected, I came to my knees and sat back on my heels, settling her generous hips between my parted thighs. She immediately locked her long legs around me, at the same time trying to tug her wrists free of my grip. Pinning them to the mattress on either side of her head, I hunched over her and started fucking her again, pounding into her hard enough to set her breasts jiggling. My cock ached unbearably at the sight, and it got worse when she took her lower lip between her teeth and bit down, swallowing the cries I was trying to force out of her with increasingly powerful thrusts.

When her thighs started squeezing and trembling against my waist, I knew she was close. I was almost on all fours by that point, and she arched like a bow, breasts thrust out toward the ceiling, her ass was coming off the bed to meet my hips as they pounded into her. Only when a strangled cry escaped her and she started the slow, powerful clenching that signaled her orgasm did I let go, allowing my balls to contract, ejaculating long and hard inside her seconds later.

My triumphant cry echoed around the room, prompting someone in the house to snigger like Butthead. It sounded like Jasper, who had been particularly obtrusive today. Alice had been more busy than usual not so secretly planning Bella's eventual wedding, and was neglecting her mate. Without her distracting influence, the Jazz-Man had been bored, and had nothing better to do but butt into people's private moments.

Still buried inside my wife, I rolled us over so she was astride me again, tucked against my chest. My arms wrapped around her, keeping her trapped against me, my softening cock still lodged inside her.

After lying there for a few minutes, she tried to rise, but I wasn't having any of that. I tightened my grip every time she tried to get up. "Let me go, Emmett," she murmured lazily.


She tried again. I tightened my grip.

"You know," she said conversationally, "I've never been the type of woman to withhold sex as punishment."

"I know, babe," I said, kissing the top of her head. "And I love you for it." I ran my hands down her smooth back, and palmed her rounded ass, digging my fingers in with a rumble of satisfaction.

"There's a first time for everything," she deadpanned, roughly tweaking my nipple.

I couldn't help it. Startled, I screamed like a girl and pushed her off me. She bounced on the mattress and rolled off the side, landing with a thud on the floor. I flinched at the sound and squeezed my eyes shut, fully expecting her to come surging over the edge of the bed to tear me several new ones.

Nothing happened.

One of my eyes opened carefully, then the other. "Rosie? Are you ok?" I slid to the edge and looked over, to find Rosalie lying face down on the ground, shaking with silent laughter.

"I'm glad you find me amusing," I said, slightly offended.

She sat up, mirth transforming her usually serious face into something luminous and breathtaking. "Oh, you know I love you, my monkey-man," she hiccuped, finally calming down enough to climb back up on the bed. Coming to her knees next to me, she smacked a kiss on my mouth. "I've got to start getting ready," she said before scrambling off the bed and vanishing from view, the bathroom door clicking shut behind her.

"For what?" I asked the empty room petulantly.

I couldn't concentrate. At all. Working on Bella's lesson plan for the next week in a bed that smelled of sex and woman was the last thing I wanted to do while the woman in question was thirty feet away getting ready to take herself away from me for the day. So I gathered all my papers and headed to my man cave. I'd get more work done there, away from the her distracting presence.

Or so I thought.

By the interruption in the loud pattering of the drops, it was easy to tell the exact moment Rosalie stepped into the shower and under the stream of water. My concentration fled. The mere thought of her naked and wet wiped my brain clear and sent an almost painful spike of lust stabbing through my loins. The pencil I was holding snapped between my fingers, startling me. On the spur of the moment, I dropped the pieces on the desk and hightailed it out into the hall, through Rosie's room and to the threshold of her bathroom. Hand on the polished wood, ready to carefully and quietly push the door open, I closed my eyes, briefly fantasizing about what I might see on the other side.

My wife was so beautiful it hurt like a fist to the face. Catching sight of her after an absence of even a few minutes was like seeing her for the first time all over again. It was like turning a corner in a museum and coming face to face with a huge Monet, or the smooth, marble slopes of an exquisite Rodin. I never knew what to expect when I opened a door knowing Rosalie was behind it, and the anticipation of what I might see made every moment feel like that first time. She was miraculous, and she was all mine.

Hers was the first face I'd seen when coming out of the hellish nightmare that was the transformation. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, and that Rosalie was an honest to goodness angel. I had never told anyone that, not even her, but that feeling of almost spiritual awe stayed with me to this day. A part of me still believed she had been sent from heaven to save me.

I worshipped her, the ground she walked on, and everything she touched. She ruled me completely. I couldn't begin to imagine any kind of existence without her in it.

The door silently swung open under my fingertips and I peeked into the room.

Behind the frosted glass doors of the shower, Rosalie's ghostly form shifted within the clouds of steam, turning this way and that as she moved within the confines of the roomy stall, pointing her face up to the shower head and then pivoting to wet her hair under the hot stream of water.

I shed my clothes fast, and was standing in front of the glass before they had even hit the ground. Damp steam parted at my passage and billowed around me like I was in an 80s power ballad video. Or a bad horror movie.

Sliding the shower door open as silently as possible, I slipped into the roomy stall. I knew she'd heard me - there was no way she wouldn't - but she didn't turn around, slowly running soapy hands over her smooth, milky hips, putting on one hell of a show for me.

I moved in behind her, I gathered the dark gold mass of her soaked hair and twisted it into a burnished coil, laying it over her shoulder, exposing the naked sweep of her back.

Ignoring me, Rosalie folded herself over at the waist to wash her ivory calves. I let my hand slide down the slippery, sudsy skin of her back, over the curve of her backside, and in one smooth ninja move, pushed my soap-slicked middle finger into her tight ass, right up to the hilt.

Poetry and subtle seduction were for the Edwards of the world. I preferred getting straight to the point.

She yelped in surprise and whirled around, slapping me across the face, snapping my head to the side. I let out a hiss of satisfaction. Ah, the joys of vampire foreplay.

"Emmett!" she scolded me, her amusement laced with a hint of exasperation, "you are such a pervert!"

Yeah, and you love it. "I'm not a pervert," I said, rubbing my cheek and feigning shocked offense.

She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her white breasts into greater prominence. I couldn't help noticing the soap suds clinging precariously to her dusky nipples. "Yes, you are."

I crossed my arms too. "Am not," I retorted, staring at the soapy orbs and imagining my cock thrusting between them as Rosalie squeezed them together for me.

She grasped my chin and tipped my face up so I was looking at her, not at her surreally fantastic tits. "You have a spanking fetish, Emmett," she countered dryly, giving me a look.

That I most certainly did. I caught her hand and kissed her palm, grinning unapologetically. "On behalf of fetishists everywhere, I must say I resent the implication that we are perverts. Personally, I think of it more as performance art. Besides, on the scale of things 'perverted', it's practically vanilla," I defended myself, feeling a sudden stirring in my groin. My voice was slightly hoarse when I continued, moving toward her and backing her against the wall. "But since you bring it up, I haven't seen you in that slutty schoolgirl outfit in a while. Why is that?" I braced my arms on the tile on either side of her head, leaning in to inhale a deep breath of her scent, enhanced by the hot water. It didn't matter that I had fucked her a mere hour or two ago, I wanted to be buried up to the hilt inside her again, preferably her ass this time. My cock lengthened and started levitating at the thought, and I leaned in to kiss her.

"You haven't asked me to wear it," she replied with a sassy smile, avoiding my incoming lips and ducking under my arm to walk away from me.

My hand shot out, fastening itself around her upper arm. "I'm asking now," I said, pulling her back under the stream of water and slamming her into the wall again. The tiles creaked under the force of the impact, and the cool, sweet breath forced from between her lips washed over my face.

"Tell you what," she said slyly, taking a step toward me. "If you can behave yourself for the rest of the day, I might let you see me in it later."

I flashed a predatory grin and pulled her flush against me. "And if you misbehave before the end of the day, I might spank you in it later," I countered, reaching behind her and smacking her on the ass, hard, the sharp metallic sound of my hand connecting with her wet skin ringing in the enclosed space of the shower.

She gasped, rising on her toes and bumping up against me, trapping my already stiff cock between us. I snaked my arm around her waist and pressed her against me, fisting my hand in her wet hair and angling her head so I could kiss her, hard, rough and demanding.

"Mmmmett..." she moaned my name into my mouth, squirming against me, trying to pull free. I tightened my grip and pushed my leg between hers, until she stopped fighting and was practically riding my thigh, her rhythmically shifting hips stimulating my cock almost painfully. Massively turned on by her struggles, I groaned deeply and held her even tighter, sliding my hand over the firm swell of her ass, middle finger sliding between her cheeks, probing, seeking out her back entrance and wishing it were my cock and not my finger working its way inside her again. I was now officially obsessed with fucking her spanked ass in that uniform, as soon as vampirically possible.

Her moaned protests crescendoed as I curled my finger inside her, and she climaxed suddenly and violently, her ass clenching around my finger. I was second away from my own orgasm when in a sudden burst of effort she managed to slither out of my grasp, shoving me away before darting out of the shower. Off balance, I slipped, which slowed me down; she barely evaded my grasp as I recovered my footing and lunged for her with an outraged bellow, my fist closing on empty air.

"Alice is waiting for me," she called out, her voice shaking. I barked at her to get back in here, right now, dammit. "Later Em, I promise," she continued, whirling into a robe and out of the bathroom, blowing me a kiss. "There's a one day sale, and we have to get there early..."

The rest of her words were drowned out by my angry growl. Frustrated and still painfully hard, I spun around to face the wall, barely resisting the temptation to put my fist through it. I would have to take matters into my own hands. It would only barely satisfy me, but since the only one who could satisfy me completely was on her way out the door to go shopping of all things, I had no choice. Out of petty revenge, I squeezed some of her expensive shower gel into my hand, pressed my arm to the tile and leaned my forehead against it. With a snarl, I fastened my soapy fist around my cock and started jerking off. No fancy moves or tricks, just my hand pulling roughly at my cock until I came in strong, arcing spurts against the tile, crying out through tightly clenched teeth.

By the time I had finished toweling off, I was hard, yet again. This was ridiculous even for me. My libido was on the overactive side, I hauled my jeans up my legs, hissing as I arranged my insanely aroused cock, trying to get more comfortable for the short walk back to my man cave. I didn't bother buttoning up, or putting on my t-shirt as I strode out of Rosalie's room and into the hallway. Only when I hear Jasper's "Jesus, Emmett, have at least some basic common decency" did I realize that my already low slung jeans were so low, my dick was the only thing holding them up. "Get over it, Miss Priss," I muttered, shoulder checking him as I passed him by.

Once in the privacy of my room, I slumped into my recliner, balanced my wireless keyboard on my lap - below my joystick - and pulled up the goodies folder on my flat screen TV. I clicked quickly through to another folder called "baby got back" and started the slideshow featuring Rosalie's Ass with a capital A.

Back in the early days of cameras, the pictures I took of her were only mildly erotic, no worse than anything Betty Paige had ever done. I had mere hundreds of photos of Rosalie from those days, compared to the thousands I had now that I didn't need to find someone to develop the pictures, or develop them myself. They could be taken or deleted with one click of a button.

I had a ridiculously extensive collection of pictures featuring Rosalie in compromising positions. They were organized in slideshows - complete with soundtrack - and covered the complete spectrum of my tastes and kinks. There was the Bondage series, with subcategories such as "Outdoors", "Industrial", "Rope", "Suspension", "Automotive" and "Artistic", the Vintage series, with subcategories such as "Victorian", "50s", "Roaring 20s", "80s" (don't judge), and "Automotive" (this was Rosalie after all), and my personal favorite, the Role-play series. It was a comprehensive and well organized collection, and it filled the void when she couldn't. I was very proud of it.

Lifting my hips off the sofa, I pushed my jeans down a little more, freeing my dick and palming it immediately, stroking myself slowly as shot after shot of Rosalie's ass appeared on the huge screen. I had pictures of it covered in every conceivable style of panties, I had pictures of her ass with those different panties up, down, and off. I had pictures of her ass with her hands on it, my hands on it, temporary tattoos on it and pink blush dusted all over it to make it look freshly spanked. Some of them were artistic, some frankly pornographic, and they all turned me on.

I hit pause, and dug around behind the cushions, pulling out a bottle of lube. I flipped the cap open and was about squeeze some into my palm when someone knocked on the door.

"Beat it, Jazz," I snapped, thinking it was Hale being a cock-blocking ass again.

I was wrong. "You mean like you were about to?" he drawled from downstairs, laughing when I snarled at him. Damn empath. He probably felt my lust.

My frown deepened as something suddenly occurred to me. Jasper was known for toying with out emotions occasionally, for his own personal entertainment. It was quite possible that the high levels of lust I had been experiencing were almost entirely due to him.

"It's me, Emmett," Bella said from outside the door, interrupting my thoughts. "You said nine o'clock, and it's ten past now."

"I didn't mean nine o'clock exactly, Bella," I muttered.

"Em, I have a ton to get caught up on if I want to start school in January. We're wasting time. You promised you'd help me." She was starting to sound a little whiny.

Everyone in the house heard her, but no one bothered reminding Bella that Carlisle had already put the kibosh on her going anywhere with a high concentration of humans by January, something she'd remember soon enough.

I let out a gust of exasperated breath. "Get your books," I said impatiently, "I'll be out in a few minutes."

She sighed. "I have my books. I've been set up downstairs since nine."

I muttered under my breath and flipped the lube closed, shoving it back behind the pillow. "Go down and get started, I said, defeated. "Page 82. I'll be down in a minute." When I've willed away this raging hard on, I thought darkly, reluctantly pulling my pants back up.

When I wandered into the living room where Bella had set herself up for out tutoring session, Edward was there, keeping her company and playing the piano. I watched him swaying back and forth like an idiot savant along with the torrent of notes, his head hanging, his eyes closed, lost in his music, fingers literally dancing over the keys.

He was so into it, he was practically begging to be messed with.

Grinning to myself, I looked at my watch, then leaned against the wall, closing my eyes to better visualize Rosalie sprawled across my lap, cotton panties lowered to mid thigh, her spectacular, round ass bared and bouncing beneath strokes delivered by her own hairbrush. It was such a pity her skin couldn't pink up, although sometimes she came to me with her skin already pre-pinked with...

Edward's playing ended in a discordant crash of notes. A quick look at my watch confirmed a new record. Six seconds worth of dirty thoughts was all it took to throw my prudish brother for a loop and break his concentration.

His fingers disappeared into his hair as he clutched his head. "For the love of mercy, Emmett," he groaned, sounding like he was in pain. "It has nothing to do with being a prude. I'm not a prude! I just don't need or want to see stuff like that! She's my sister!"

"Sorry." I grinned unapologetically, peeling myself off the wall. "I couldn't help it." I sauntered over to Bella, who had looked up from her textbook and was eyeing us curiously.

Edward slammed the lid of the piano down and surged to his feet "No, you're not," he snapped. "and, yes, you can." He groaned again, shaking his head. "Ugh, I have to get out of here…I..I have to go bleach my brain. Or something." He strode to the french doors, turning just inside them. "Oh, and Emmett?" he said innocently. "It's always looked more like an uncooked bratwurst nestled in a bun to me." He threw at me a superior smirk before shooting into the woods.

My jaw dropped. Prudie Eddie had made a penis joke. Not a very good one, but it was progress. He really was loosening up, and it warmed my cold, dead heart.

Then the implications of what he'd said sank in, and the cold chill of embarrassment crawled over me.

I knew, we all did, that with Edward's power, there was no mental privacy of any kind to be had when he was around. He was so unobtrusive and polite about it though, one tended to forget that he was potentially reading the most private of one's thoughts. Edward's laughter suddenly ringing out in the distance was all the confirmation I needed. Clearly he'd stayed in range and had been eavesdropping. Score one for my baby bro.

"What was that all about?"

I started, remembering Bella was right there.

"Hmmm?" I said absently, running through my memories to see what other ammunition I had carelessly given Edward today, to use against me.

"You look guilty, Emmett," she said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What did you do? And what was Edward talking about?"

"Based on his reaction, do you really think you want to know?" I replied, bending over her notebook and giving her math homework a quick once over. "That's wrong." I tapped on the problem in question to draw her attention to her mistake and keep her from asking me potentially embarrassing questions. It worked, and I was once again grateful that newborns were so easily distracted.

"What's wrong with it?" she challenged me, looking her work over carefully, using her pencil to follow along.

"You need to figure it out for yourself," I instructed her gruffly. "Do it again. From the beginning."

I moved behind the couch and bent over, resting my elbows on the back, watching over her shoulder as she silently worked the problem again, occasionally butting in to correct her or nudge her in the right direction. We worked that way for a couple of hours, heads together, gradually refreshing her memories of the algebra she had completely forgotten during her transition from human to vampire.

Bella had been horrified when she realized she had forgotten almost everything she had learned in high school. When her first and subsequent exposures to humans had been successful, she had imagined we would all be attending college together that coming spring. When she realized that she couldn't remember enough to pass even the most basic college courses, her hopes had been crushed only to rise again when she realized how rapidly she would re-learn everything. Jasper had quickly crushed them again, confidently stating that in his estimation it would be at least a year more before she was completely comfortable and natural around humans, regardless of what level she she was at scholastically. Carlisle had agreed with him, which had led to a heated argument between the three of them. Bella felt foolishly confident that she had her bloodlust under control and could pass for human, and was convinced that Jasper was just saying that to annoy her - an idea that wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, though I happened to agree with him in this case. Then she got upset with Carlisle for taking his side, and then Edward made her shit list for trying to play the peacemaker and refusing to take sides.

The days of her having a tantrum and breaking furniture where over though, and she'd calmly told us that she needed to go for a walk alone, to think and cool down, and that she promised she would stay close to the house and answer her phone if they called. The kid had really come a long way.

I didn't follow her fifteen minutes later because I thought she needed watching. I trusted her. I just knew my kid sister enough to figure that eventually she would calm down enough to want to talk about it, and I asked Edward if he minded if had a talk with her first.

"I think you might be just the person she needs," he said, staring at the tree line where Bella had disappeared earlier. He looked at me with a wry grin. "It certainly isn't me right now."

"Don't worry, bro," I said, clapping him on he shoulder. "She'll have snapped out of it by the time we get back."

I found Bella squatting on a boulder, her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin tucked between her knees. She was staring pensively at the ground.

Leaping up onto the boulder, I squatted down beside her, balancing on the balls of my feet, and resting my forearms on my knees.

Hey, kid," I said, when she didn't acknowledge me.

"Hey, Em," she replied, finally sparing me a fleeting look.

"Feeling better?" I nudged her with my elbow.

She shrugged, but stayed silent. We crouched there for a while, like a couple of vultures, surveying our surroundings while I waited for her to gather her thoughts and start talking.

My mind had begun wandering back to sex with Rosalie, when Bella finally spoke. "Do you think it is too soon for me to go to college?" she asked, turning to me.

Nuh-uh. Not going there. "You aren't going anywhere until you brush up on the stuff you've forgotten," I said, trying to divert her attention.

She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her jeans, her lips pushed out into a cute pout. "I've only got a couple of months, Em. How am I going to re-learn years worth of stuff in two months?" she said sadly.

"Well, the good news is that with your new and improved vampire brain, it won't take anywhere near that long," I explained, sitting down and letting my feet dangle over the edge of the rock. "Once you grasp a concept, it will stay with you forever. You won't have to do a math problem over and over again to get it, like some humans do. We can power through a few years of high school in no time."

She said nothing, obviously not entirely convinced.

"I'll help you, if you like. I can tutor you in anything you want."

Hope glimmered in her eyes when she looked at me. "You would do that for me?"

I snorted, shoving her. "Of course I would, kid. In a heartbeat."

"So not at all, then, given that we don't have a heartbeat." Her lips were twitching when I shot her a look.

"Ha ha. Cute," I said sarcastically, taking advantage of the fact that her strength had waned considerably by suddenly wrapping my arm around her neck. I pulled her to me and gave her a rough noogie, managing to get myself thrown off the rock for my pains.

"Is this how you treat your tutor?" I questioned mildly, picking myself up off the ground and dusting myself off.

She leaped off the rock and landed gracefully beside me. "No, it's how I treat my annoying big brother. Tutors don't give their students noogies."

"Vampire ones do, and worse," I threatened, following behind her as she started for home. "I'll hang you up by your toes if you don't do your homework."

She skipped away from me, bounding down the hill like a gazelle. "Whatever, Teach," she called out as she went. "As long as it helps me be ready for classes by the end of January, you can do whatever the hell you want."

Unseen by her, I raised an eyebrow and grinned evilly. Be careful what you wish for, kid.

"Em? Did you hear me?"

I focused back on the present, vaulting over the back of the sofa and landing on my butt right next to her. "Tell me again, Bells," I asked her, putting my arms around her shoulders.

She shrugged me off and waved her pad in front of my face. "I'm finished," she repeated.

Plucking her pencil and pad out of her hands, I scanned her work quickly. "A+, Bella," I said, proud of her. "You did great. I think that about covers it for math. We can tackle trig and calculus if you change your mind about majoring in English lit." I handed the pad and pencil back to her. "Tomorrow we can get started with French."

I vaulted over the back of the couch again and prepared to go back to my man-cave, when a thought occurred to me. "Hey...Bella? Do you think you could find Edward and keep him away for a while? You know, keep him...occupied?" I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.

She finished gathering up all her books and notes and looked up. "Sure, Emmett. Why?"

"Well, I have a feeling he might be a bit frisky, for a start." With the thoughts I had been having all morning, he was probably in the kind of pain only his mate could relieve. And with her newborn strength - and therefore her physical dominance over her mate - all but gone, little Bella's uppance might finally be coming. They would both be more comfortable if it came far away from prying eyes, ears, and powers. "Also," I continued, "I would really like to finish what I started upstairs without someone poking around in my head."

"What about someone poking around in your emotions?"

Damn, I had forgotten about him. "Yeah..." I rubbed my neck. "I guess with the pipsqueak gone for the day, there is no one to keep him in line."

"I'll handle him, Emmett," Esme said, walking briskly out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a paint-stained rag. "Carlisle and I will take him hunting."

"I'll pass, thanks," Jasper called out. "I'm not thirsty, and I'm busy."

Esme wasn't taking no for an answer. "You'll hunt anyway. And you're not doing anything that can't be put off for...Jasper Whitlock!" she said sharply. "Don't you dare use your powers to manipulate me! Don't think I don't know you've been toying with everyone's emotions all morning. Now march! We are going to give Emmett some alone time, and you are coming with us!"

There was love and motherly amusement in her voice, but she also called him by his real name, which meant she wasn't kidding around. We all heard Carlisle's quietly amused "We had better do as she says, son," and Jasper's answering chuckle.

"Ok, wait...What? Whose emotions has he been toying with?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at Jasper when he strolled into the room, Carlisle on his heels.

"I haven't been doing anything," he said with exaggerated innocence and a blank expression.

"Yes, you have," Esme interjected firmly. She turned to me. "He gets a certain look on his face when he's manipulating people for his own entertainment."

Jasper was looking a little guilty when I turned to him.

"Dude," I said reproachfully. "Not cool. You had me thinking something was wrong with me."

Jasper grinned sheepishly. "Sorry man," he said, offering no explanation.

"Yeah, I'm not sure you are," I muttered.

"Alright, that's enough of that," Esme said briskly giving Jasper a little push toward the patio doors. "Let's go." She clapped her hands. "Hop to it." Stopping in front of me, she patted my cheek. "We'll be gone for a few hours, sweetie."

They filed out of the house and melted into the tree line like the predators that they were.

Between Bella coming back for a blanket and Jasper deciding he needed his camera, it was ten more minutes before their voices had faded and I was finally alone. Not willing to lose another minute, I flew up to my room and had my pants down around hips and the slide show going in seconds. But just as I was about to flip the cap on the bottle of lube open, I heard the sounds of an approaching car.

Un-fucking-believable. I let out a roar of frustration and threw the bottle across the room, splattering lube all over my video games. "I give up," I muttered, pulling my jeans up over my protesting cock. "Somebody obviously hates me."

There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," I barked, trying and failing to make myself comfortable in my pants.

The door opened and Rosalie slipped in, closing the door softly behind her.

My chin sagged, and the problem in my pants got worse.

She was leaning against the door, looking like mortal sin on legs. Her hair was up in wildly tangled, uneven pig-tails; her eyes were smoky with make-up and her lips wet with pale pink gloss.

But the best part, the part that made the blue balls, the teasing, and everything else worthwhile, was her outfit. She was a hot, sexy mess.

I was a man of uncomplicated tastes. I saw nothing wrong with the stereotypes, and was perfectly happy with seeing Rosalie in something as pedestrian as a french maid's uniform. Then again, Rose had always been able to take the stereotype and turn it into something uniquely her.

This time was no different.

She looked like a catholic schoolgirl gone very, very bad. She wore a rumpled white shirt, unbuttoned to indecent levels over a lacy scrap of a bra that barely contained her luscious breasts, with her tie loosened to match. One side of her shirt tails was hanging out over a short, pleated tartan skirt that was so indecently short it fell a mere inch below the tops of her thighs. White knee socks covered her shapely calves, and on her feet…

I swallowed convulsively. On her feet, she wore patent leather Mary-Janes.

With stratospherically high heels.

Reality was better than all the pictures, all the fantasies that had plagued me all day, combined. I stood there like a shellshocked idiot for a few seconds, and then my predatory instincts kicked in. My cock hardened so quickly I got dizzy, and I tensed in anticipation for whatever my beautiful wife had in store for me.

She winked. "Alice left to join the others. We're alone," she said seriously.

One of my eyebrows quirked. "Are we, now?" I mused, looking at her intently. I deliberately left the slide show running and strolled casually around the recliner to stand in front of her.

"She's going to keep them away as long as we need," she added, looking me straight in the eyes, her golden irises dark with lust and rich with meaning.

I kept mine firmly locked on hers. "So we've got the house completely to ourselves for as long as it takes." I reached for her tie, and reeled her in, dipping my head, my lips hovering close enough to feel her quickening breath.

Her lips quirked up in a soft and saucy Mona Lisa smile. "We do," she said huskily.

My hands dropped to her waist, pulling her firmly against my hips. "What do you need, babe?" I whispered against her mouth.

"This is going to be about what you need," she whispered back, her fingers dusting over my cheekbone.

She pushed herself out of my arms, taking a step back and slowly ducking her head. When she raised her face to me again, it was just enough to look at me through her eyelashes with a very convincing look of contrition, the tip of her index finger caught between her teeth.

Yes! I mentally punched the air with my fist, and crossed my arms over my chest. "Do you have something you'd like to say to me, Rosalie?" I asked with feigned sternness.

She nodded shyly, and then spoke the words that undid me.

"I've been a very bad girl, Emmett…"

Note: Next up, Carlisle.

In other news, I am hoping to participate in the Canon Tour, the New Moon round. If I finish up in time (edited to add: yeah. Probably not going to happen).