A/N: This fic has an adult rating for sexual content. Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.
"Hey man. Party at Jess's tomorrow night – you comin'?"
I glanced up from my arm curl to see James settling at the rowing machine. Damn, I thought I'd be the only one in this morning. Just my luck that the day I want to be done with the gym early is the day this tool finally decides to get his act together.
I clenched my fist tight and continued raising the heavy weight, determined to finish my pre-game day prep on time.
I had the game tomorrow and then…plans.
"I'll stop by," I grunted at my teammate.
Unfortunately that little bone I threw him was enough to keep his loser mouth yapping.
"Gonna be a lot of fine ass there – and you know how the game works them up. They practically drop to their knees the minute a member of the team walks through the door."
I grimaced. He wasn't unique as far as frat boy sophomores go but come on. He wasn't a star in a porn flick – who actually talks like that? I find it hard to believe any chick would go for such an asshole, no matter how turned on by footballers or wasted she might be. Contrary to popular team belief, women don't particularly like being treated like cheap whores.
Could just be me though.
There was a welcome pause before James started up again.
"But then you're not into that – are you?"
If being in my predicament has taught me anything, it's that sometimes you're best not to respond. I never do. This whole campus had been trying to figure me out for the past two years. No one has yet succeeded. Maybe after this weekend they'll understand and stop hounding me.
The whirring sound of the mechanical trainer starting up filled the otherwise silent gym. I was grateful for the noise, it would be too loud to hear his nattering.
"See the thing is – I don't think you're into dudes."
I rolled my eyes. I should be so lucky that the little twerp would just shut up and work out. Oh no. He had to come in here and be chatty.
I transferred the weight to my other hand and shifted my posture away from him. One more set on this arm and I'd be done.
Mystery was definitely my friend in this case, less than a minute and I'd be out of here.
"I've seen you check out the cheerleaders when they're doing that butt-poppin' thing."
There was a satisfied grunt as James obviously conjured up a picture of the slutty routine that kicked off half-time.
I had a quick memory flash myself and frowned. Yeah I'd looked, I am a man after all. And a lonely one at that. But I don't touch. Fingering a cheerleader in the locker room doesn't hold appeal for me like it does for some other members of the team. I have something much better to look forward to.
"And both Lauren Mallory and Tanya Denali both claim to have been out with you. So what the hell's your story man?"
"In Tanya Denali? Once you get in to that sorority I've heard you don't have to choose. You can get two – or even three of them…"
I finished my set without saying a word and then jumped to my feet, replacing the weight in its rack. Thank fuck that was over.
"See ya tomorrow," I farewelled.
I got out of there like Speed Racer on crack, desperate for no more conversation from James. I was worried I'd already lost precious IQ points just listening to that moron.
I looked around the football ground, getting my bearings. It wasn't full, this was a minor game and although it was at home, it was still early in the season. I'd never been here before so it took a moment to get oriented, to spot where the teams would come up onto the field, where the official fans sat, where the cheer squad were throwing scantily clad girls into the air. This was Emmett's third year.
Shaking my head it was with disbelief that I acknowledged I'd never once seen him play a home game. Well, for college anyway. I saw all his games in high school of course. Back before the parents' ultimatum. I squinted my eyes angrily and vowed to put that out of my head. At least for the weekend.
The players weren't out on the field yet so I scanned for my best plan of attack. Bingo. Cheerleaders.
I hoisted my weekend bag over my shoulder and walked around the ground. I found an available seat perfectly situated, just behind the marshalling area of what were bound to be the skankiest girls on campus.
This was a good opportunity. The only available flight this afternoon had been too close to kickoff. Usually we met at the airport but Emmett had other commitments of course, so I'd just jumped in a cab to get here. Now I'd get to find out what my man had been getting up to without me.
Technically we were not going out. We have been technically-not-going-out since I graduated from high school. That was when I was given two graduation gifts – a Tiffany's necklace and the news that my college fund would only be spent at a college Emmett was not attending. I wasn't allowed to pick my future based on a high-school boyfriend. Alright. Fair enough. I was pissed and hated them for that for about a week but I got over it. It was the instruction from both sets of our parents that we weren't healthy, that we had to explore seeing other people that was painful. Gut-wrenching, heart-breaking painful. We comforted each other, went to our separate colleges and like adults promised to catch up at winter break. We were even explicit that we would do as we were told – if we found someone we wanted to go out with we should.
Needless to say that happened for exactly three months. We spoke on the phone all the time. We came home for Christmas, snuck away in my car and made out like bunnies. We never took back that freedom – if he found someone he truly wanted to be with more than me, then I wanted him to be happy and do what was right for him. I've been on a handful of first dates so the pretty picture of their daughter exploring the world rests easy in my parents' heads. The only boy I crave is Emmett Cullen.
Which is why I'm here.
Smirking to myself I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the railing. The pom pom brigade are lining themselves up along the entrance to a long tunnel. Soon the Wildcats – opposition for this week – ran up. There was a belated clap or two here and there as the team spread out to begin warm ups.
A roar of approval spurred the crowd to their feet as the familiar gold and blue jogged up next, bursting suddenly out onto the ground.
I jumped to my feet and whistled, craning my neck to see down into the depths of the stadium. The huddle of athletic male bodies started pouring onto the field and I quickly began scanning for that familiar number. My heart sped up as I spotted him running in the middle of the pack.
"Oh my god that Emmett's a hottie," one of the uniformed girls in front of me squealed.
"I heard he's like gay or something," her friend told her wide-eyed. "He went out with my friend Lauren freshman year – he didn't even kiss her goodnight!"
"Such a waste," a third one piped up. "He's so nice but when you flirt – nothing. Like talking to your brother or something."
A big, unstoppable smile spread over my face as I heard that. I rocked back on my heels in satisfaction. I trust Emmett and he's a free man but it's always nice to hear he's not spreading it around. I followed him with my eyes as he began a lap of the field with his team-mates.
He is incredibly graceful, with his broad body and defined muscles you wouldn't think to watch him run. His strong limbs seem to help him spring off the turf and when he gets up a head of steam, wow he can move fast.
It's obvious the minute he spots me. He waved, overtook the rest of the team and sprinted ahead to my section.
"Oh my god!"
I ignored the excited pom pom girls as I lean as far forward as I can, waving back to him. I'm quite aware that I look like an idiot but no one knows me here so I don't care. Emmett is so cute when he's excited. Its been months since we've seen each other and no matter how good technology gets, its no substitute for seeing him in person. His endless enthusiasm is infectious.
He took the two feet distance from the grass to the stands in a single full-pace leap. It's like being slammed into by a graceful buffalo. There's definitely control there but the sheer size makes it redundant. The breath is stolen from me when he grasps the railing that separates us with one hand, then cups the back of my neck with the other.
The world narrows to just Emmett. Here in front of me, in the flesh. Our mouths meet passionately, desperately. I'm hungry for his taste and eagerly drink it down. It's just as unique and wonderful as the memory of nine weeks ago when I last kissed him. God Emmett's lips are singular – firm, talented and just the tiny bit moist.
My fingers slithered up into his curls, caressing the loose whorls and then claiming them roughly. I forced myself tighter to him, waylaid only by the firm railing between us.
"Missed you," I manage to whisper in the instant he is repositioning his mouth.
"Cullen! Get your ass down here!"
Emmett pulled back, placed another quick kiss on my lips then studied my face excitedly.
"I am so glad you're here," he grinned. "There's a party after, can I show you off?"
I nodded, leaned forward and mashed our lips together briefly.
His tongue thrust into my mouth for another quick twirl before he was jumping away, leaving me with swollen lips and messed up hair. He jogged backwards, eyes locked to mine as he returned to his team
"Go Leprechaun!" I yelled after him in encouragement.
Emmett kissed the air. Then he forced his helmet on and turned to his yelling coach.
I was grinning like a tortured clown when I noticed we had quite the audience to our little reunion. The bimbo-brigade down below were staring up at me, open-mouthed.
"Trust me ladies, he's definitely not gay," I smugly called out.
I hurried in the post-game shower for a lightning fast cleanup. I was on fire tonight, and right before the final buzzer it was my long pass that had resulted in a winning touchdown. It was possibly the best game of my life. Everyone wanted to congratulate me personally.
I wanted Rosalie to congratulate me personally.
I was so eager to get to her, I was not quite finished dressing. Which is why I was still buttoning my shirt when I emerged from the locker room. My gear was hastily tossed into my bag and now precariously dangling from my forearm.
There were a ton of people still milling around, ready to latch on to the winning team and shower us with praise. I was not paying a lick of attention to all that crap though. She wasn't hard to spot, she was the most beautiful person in any room. Her wavy hair just peaked over the crowd, hanging back a bit and glaring at a pair of blonde bobble-heads excitedly whispering nearby.
My lust flared instantly at the site of her – my Rosalie in my home ground. I took off, dodging the waiting family and friends in my eagerness to get to her. I think she only caught sight of me right before I swept her up into my arms.
Man she felt good. Human, and real, and alive, right here with me. Her scent was overwhelming, fresh and clean – nothing smells fresh after a football game.
We squeezed each other eagerly in a tight hug. Her chin had this way of fitting snugly into the space of my shoulder that just confirmed we were perfect together. She excitedly congratulated "you were awesome!"
Then we kissed. A wet, sloppy, I-haven't-touched-you-in-two-months kiss. She tasted like the game – hot dogs and soda. It struck me that she was here, in my world, finally. I couldn't get close enough and frantically backed her up against the wall, pinning her with my weight. Pressing into her and lightly grinding.
Well what? I hadn't seen her, or touched her or loved her in two months. When you're a twenty-one year old guy it is physically uncomfortable to be apart from your girlfriend that long.
Her knee grazed my thigh and I drew it up higher, pressing close to what she was tempting me with. If it was just us in this hallway I could probably tug down her zipper and – well, we weren't alone, were we? There was noise all around us, so I focused on her chest pressed against my torso, her hands grabbing my back, and rubbing up against what I wanted to be buried in.
Slowly our passion tempered until her fingers were lightly dancing up and down my neck, tugging my hair. Occasionally giving it a really good pull in fact.
I really love possessive Rosalie.
Half my team seemed to walk out of the dressing room to be greeted with the sight of me ravishing her.
When we finally came up for air she was smiling at me lustfully.
"God I miss doing that!" she was genuinely happy.
I shuddered involuntarily as her fingers played with the short hair at the nape of my neck. This is how it's supposed to be. We aren't meant to be physically apart, she's supposed to be here to kiss me after every game.
"You look beautiful," I complimented, trying to drink in her violet eyes while I struggle to fight back physical arousal.
"You don't even know what I'm wearing," she teased, never looking away.
"It doesn't matter. You're always beautiful."
We shared a private smile, her eyes twinkling at me.
"So," I let her go, long enough to reach down and swing both our bags over my shoulder.
She straightens her hair and tugs her short coat back into place. I love making her look dishevelled.
When she's finished I wrap my free arm around her waist, and entwined our fingers on the other side of her body. She shivered against me.
I'm surprised. I'm only wearing my shirt and I'm still warm. I guess I've just run around for an hour and a half, then been holed up in a stinkin' hot locker room while she's been sitting still out in the frigid night air watching me.
I tucked her in close, knowing how damn lucky I am to have her. She's so good to me. I'm rewarded with a brush of her soft lips on my stubbly cheek.
"Now I'm good."
We start slowly walking back to my car which is tucked in a corner of the now almost empty lot.
"You were so good tonight, I think the whole crowd wanted to kiss you when you made that throw in the first quarter."
I shrugged. It was a great throw, there were actually a few of them and I know it. However the rush of football has already faded tonight. I've got something more exciting to concentrate on. Rosalie's here.
"I'm always better when I know you're watching," I point out what she already knows. "Maybe I should try to get you a scholarship too – I bet our win-loss rate would improve."
I can imagine that conversation with coach.
Rosalie's hand casually slipped into my back pocket. I wiggled teasingly as she cupped my ass, nipping her earlobe briefly. There's more of that to come. Hot damn I love being in a relationship.
"What's with James?" she slyly turns her attention to her footing. "He was all over the place, I'd have kicked him off my team long before now."
I scowl at the thought of that idiot. He almost cost us the game. Again.
"Too much time with the cheerleaders, not enough in the gym," I shrugged. "I think he knows it too, I've seen him in there twice this week – that's twice more than any other week."
"Not a problem for you I hear."
Her head briefly touched my shoulder, prompting me to glance down inquisitively.
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow.
Nope, cheerleaders definitely weren't my style. Sure I've had plenty of gym time, it's good for working on frustration that has no other outlet. I don't think that's what she's talking about though. We pretend we're cool if the other wants to see different people – HA! The can of whoopass that would be opened on any other girl I dared touch would be monumental.
"They think you're gay. Well, thought you were gay."
I briefly squeezed her fingers and sighed theatrically.
"Is it so wrong to have standards?"
My lioness retracted her claws and nuzzled at me contentedly. Her herd was protected from invaders and she did her best to keep it that way. Or at least I let her think she was the one doing the protecting. Sometimes you need to put out a vibe, keep the hyenas from thinking of attacking.
The lights on the Jeep flashed briefly in front of us, signalling that at my key press the alarm had been disabled.
I opened the door to the back seat and hurriedly tossed her overnight bag and my gear inside. That left me free to press Rosalie up against the side.
"High standards, I hope," she quipped, gripping the front of my shirt and coyly tugging me close.
Casually I braced my arm against the glass, leaning over to inhale the fruity smell in her hair. Is there anything about her that's not tempting?
"Incredibly high," I assured, nosing between golden strands towards her delicious neck. "Only one girl makes the cut."
"Your parents would disapprove of that. You're supposed to be 'experiencing the world'" she mockingly paraphrased.
I groaned, hating those words more every time I hear them. They haunt me at night when I go to sleep alone. It is the only thing I have ever wanted to rebel against.
"Don't repeat it," I pleaded, burying myself in the familiar scent of her skin.
She smelled so pleasingly sweet, flowery but with a slight citrus taste that bursts into my senses when I arouse her. I kissed the soft dip of her collarbone, pleased to feel her stiffen and gasp. Her hips bent forward, bringing her into full body contact. Slowly I dropped my arm around her hips, gently tugging her closer.
" 'You should try everything college has to offer,' " she continued to mimic.
I bear down on her, let her feeling everything I have to offer. A little mewl followed and something internal relaxed. There's always a kind of tension, that she will change her mind. Don't get me wrong, I want her to be happy and if she finds someone else I'll let her go. But I'm in goddamn love with her and when we spend so much time apart, I need to have it reaffirmed that she still wants me. At least from time to time. I caressed her lovingly, tracing those curvy hips with my palms. Damn these things are dangerous.
" 'You can't be with that boy forever Rosalie,' " I helpfully added.
Her fingers clasped my short curls and yanked me up from kissing her neck.
"Watch me," she hissed.
The roots of my hair protested painfully but I basked in the sensation, capturing her hot, willing mouth. She wants me, confirmed. Which means freedom to give her all the loving she can take in the next forty-eight hours. Our kiss probably bruised her lips and it certainly made me hard, but when we both pulled back some time later, we were grinning madly.
"C'mon," I opened her door for her. "I want you to meet my friends."
I checked out all the girls eyeing Emmett and wondered how he had resisted 'experiencing the world'. I could pick at least ten whose eyes had swivelled this way the minute he opened the door. I blinked, tossed my long blonde hair over the perfect curve of my shoulder and brushed that fleeting doubt away.
None of them could compete with me, that's how he stayed single. He closed the door behind us and then helped me from my coat, brushing the wool from my shoulders. That was when the cry went out.
"Emmett!" a few of his football buddies had spotted him.
He slapped a few high fives but never let go of me. It was nice – that he could find space for me in his world. This group of friends he'd created all on his own. A beer bottle was shoved into his hand – he cracked the topped off then handed it to me before grabbing another for himself.
"This is Rosalie," he gave a general introduction.
For a brief moment the world seemed to stop spinning. It was mainly an illusion – there was a break as the song changed and a hush fell over the assembled crowd. I could see the surprised looks and met them with a raised eyebrow. Slowly as I could I took a long sip of my beer. My man was thoughtful and kind, and the brief announcement of my name was treated as a general broadcast that Emmett was off the market. He wasn't supposed to yet he was introducing me – his girlfriend. The fact that the entire room seemed to be staring us down announced that Emmett had been pretty faithful in the time we'd been five states apart.
I already knew that from my slut run-in earlier bur it was still nice to have it confirmed again.
We slowly made our way through the buzzing crowd until we were deep in the swinging house party. Emmett was undeniably the centre of attention. As the back slaps and fist bumps died down he settled, bracing himself against a table so he could relive the game with his closest team-mates. I vaguely recognised Mike Newton and Tyler Crowley from some of his away games I'd attended.
I knew Edward Cullen, and we spoke for a little while. He and Emmett were best friends, and we'd met before. Emmett often joked of actually being brothers because they happened to share the same last name.
Tuning out, I carefully eyed an overzealous brunette who looked ready to come interrogate me. Just as she had gathered her courage and sauntered over, about to pipe up, Em shifted. He carefully positioned me firmly between his legs. Snuggling me back against the warmth of his chest. I relaxed as his hand came to rest absently on my abdomen.
The brunette scowled before disappearing into the crowd.
There was something so familiar, so loving about Emmett's intimate caress. Yet the way my body responded, still, was like being touched for the first time.
Every single girl in the room was staring me down, envious. I could feel their eyes jealously peering at me, wondering what I had that was so special. There were more than a few male gazes stroking over me too, those I ignored. The only stroking I was really conscious of was Emmett's thumb slowly rubbing over my belly button. I shivered as it briefly dipped inside, the tingle running down my insides, straight to my moistening nether region.
How long could this party go before we could legitimately leave and start our evening together? The last time we had skype-sex was five days ago, I needed to have him.
The beer was flowing freely, that much was obvious. As everyone else got wasted, Emmett, usually the ring-leader in such behaviour, nursed the same bottle he'd been handed when he got in.
Twisting back I reached up on my toes and kissed his cheek. I softly offered "You can drink you know, I'll drive us to the hotel."
Emmett grinned, looked into the distance then darted his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Wow he looked cute when he did that. He bent his mouth to my ear and privately enlightened
"Tonight's not a good night to drink, hmmmm? Might stop me getting hard."
The hand on my belly pressed and I felt him grinding against my ass in demonstration of his so far uninhibited body.
I laughed, amused by his blatant wantonness. His muscular thighs were hard even through the fabric of his jeans and I couldn't wait to get him alone so I could feel them and other hard aspects of his form more thoroughly.
"We don't want that. Have we been here long enough? Not that your friends aren't great but I'm only here until Sunday –"
In a split second Emmett's beer bottle hit the table he was perched against with a resounding smack. I was quickly propelled forward to rest fully on my feet, Em scrambling up behind me. He immediately started making for the door, propelling me along in front of him.
"'Night guys!" he called over his shoulder.
I blushed, actually blushed. His blatant announcement called to the attention of everyone that we had other plans for this evening. I wondered if that was his intention, and silently approved. In an obvious 'hands off hoes' move I spun around and planted a firm, possessive kiss on his tasty lips, leading him to the porch.
Catcalls followed us out the front door until he slammed it shut behind us.
"Geez its cold tonight," I shivered, rubbing my arms.
Emmett held out the sleeves of my coat he'd snagged on the way out. I quickly slipped into it then under his arm for extra warmth. We hurried back to the car, his hand rubbing my shoulder to warm me. As the scent of Emmett unadulterated by any other bodies filled my senses, eager anticipation flared in my belly. Well, lower.
We hopped in and cranked the heat. While he drove I twisted in my seat, eager to watch him.
"So," I slid my hand over the divide and onto his thigh. "Do you think they liked me?"
I rubbed up and down the inner seam of denim, feeling the muscles tense beneath.
"Oh yeah," he hissed through clenched teeth.
He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. I moved my fingers a little higher and his palm shot down to stay my hand.
"I'm driving," he reminded.
"I see that," I laughed, reaching my other hand round to brush the dark hair just curling around the top of his ear.
He clenched my fingers together hard.
"You're going to get us both killed," he warned.
At that point he needed to shift gears and let me go. I tucked my legs up underneath me and leaned over until my breath tickled the small hairs on his earlobe.
"Remember last Sunday night when I was alone in my dorm room?"
I clenched the shift as I slid from third to fourth gear. When we were having skype sex, and she was touching herself? How the fuck could I forget that?
"I was wearing that little red thing you like?"
"Mmmmmm," I groaned.
'Wearing' was an interesting way to phrase it. Playboy had nothing on Rosalie rolling around in her bed wearing that. Breasts practically falling out, belly bared, fingers softly moving over her lush inner thighs.
Her long, delicate fingers moved up over my fly and cupped ever so gently.
"I'm wearing it right now."
My eyes bugged out of my head and my dick sprang right up into her palm.
"Fuck!" I swore.
I swung my eyes away from the road to focus on her chest, imagining that feat of engineering through the cotton. Rosalie tugged the shoulder of her shirt down a little ways. It gave just enough of a peak to confirm red lace. My mouth watered.
"Baby why would you tease me?" I pleaded as my gaze reluctantly turned back to the road.
I didn't want us to die before we got to bed but fuck me! I think her nipples just popped up to greet me. I stole a quick glance back. Yup. They did. My hand left the stick and she helpfully guided it up to stroke the curve of her breast.
"Mmmmmhm, that's good," she breathily encouraged.
She shifted uncomfortably in her tight jeans and I didn't need imagination to know what I was doing to her. What was getting wet and ready for me.
The hand between my thighs twitched, rubbing the ridge of my cock encouragingly. It was a struggle to even keep my eyes open. I was lucky the roads were quiet tonight.
"Almost. There," I ground out.
Luckily I checked in to our hotel earlier that day. I took the driveway into the parking garage way too fast. We found a free space but it took five tries to get the Jeep into it. I could not judge distance or space at all.
When it was finally parked Rosalie smirked, leaned over and kissed me properly. A we're-all-alone-and-I-want-you kiss. I had her horny and raring to go, I knew it. I could almost taste it in the heat of her mouth.
She bounded out of my arms unexpectedly, climbed from the car and retrieved our bags from the back seat. Then she stood smiling sweetly, playing with her hair while she waited for me to join her. I took a minute to try and calm my body enough for the journey up to our room.
When I was soft enough to stand, I gingerly climbed out of the car. I had to stop and adjust myself in my jeans. Ow. The sooner we were alone for the evening the better. I took a deep, final breath then walked around the car to meet her at the rear. I hugged her close to my side and we made our way to the elevator, calmly walking inside when it arrived. There were other people in the carriage with us the entire way meaning hands couldn't wander. A goddamn shame. I was just noticing how tight her jeans were and her ass looked spectacular.
We had to be chaste for a few more precious seconds. It took me a minute to find the card key, slide it home into the lock and get the door open. When it shut behind us – that was an entirely different story.
I had her soft face cupped in my palms within a breath. She was on me, kissing furiously in the next. I think my brain stopped functioning at that point – there was no more thinking, just feeling. When Rosalie was at hand there was a lot of feeling. She groaned as my mouth slid intimately onto hers. I think I did too, relieved that we were finally here. With a little nip she managed to suck my bottom lip between hers and then lick the plump inside.
Hot damn that felt good! I bucked, changing my angle of attack and sliding my tongue under hers then coaxing her close. The sounds of wet, messy kissing filled the room and I'm gonna admit it – it turned me on. I can pull my cock off and fantasise she's with me but there's no substitute for real kisses. Rosalie kisses. Her wicked hot mouth desperately attacking me. I started backing up, stumbling towards the bed and leading her with me.
She caressed my cheeks, jaw, down my neck until her hands landed on fabric. Then she began rapidly undoing buttons. Yeah baby, get me naked.
"Missed you so much," she whimpered, pulling the now loose shirt hem from my pants.
Her hands slid up, over my twitching abdominal muscles that she traced with her wily fingers until they were leaping under her touch. She copped a good feel of my pectoral muscles too before finally slipping the fabric off my shoulders.
"Missed you too," I muttered back, shrugging eagerly out of my shirt.
I couldn't feel enough of her hands crawling all over my skin, not even if she stayed for the next month. The backs of my knees hit the bed and I eagerly sunk down onto it, ravenously pulling Rosalie's long thigh up and around my torso until she straddled me. Her warm weight sunk into my lap and I grinned around our kisses, twirling our tongues together. That's much better – girlfriend in full body contact. Her hot sexy body begging for it.
I started creeping under the bottom of her shirt, expecting to find bare skin at her lower back and instead encountering lace. Sparse, erotic lace.
I think my eyes rolled back in my head.
I remembered what she'd said in the car earlier and grinned around her mouth. Oh she really was wearing lingerie.
"Do I get to see the little red thing?" I wheedled, absently massaging her hips.
She's really sensitive there – I could ask her to get on her knees and suck me in the middle of a game and she'd probably think about it if I was rubbing her hips. She'd smack the crap out of me later but she'd definitely think about it.
Right now it makes her wriggle and whimper softly. She drew my big hands to the tiny seed buttons on her shirt while prompting "don't you want to undress me?"
Like a naughty birthday present?
Four years of being Rosalie Hale's boyfriend means my large fingers can flick open the most complicated of seams in seconds. These are barely a challenge. Thirteen seconds – count 'em. Is that a record?
I took the sides and parted them eagerly.
"Hello ladies," I grinned lasciviously, eyes zeroing in on the perfect breasts that bounced up to greet me, tantalisingly draped in lace.
Without prompting I reached out and cupped them. Perfect and full. Being her lover has made me a tit-man. Having them always pert and ready for my attention is part of that; having her moan and whimper and grind on me when I get near them is the other. Tonight was no different. I leaned forward and slowly took an erect nipple between my teeth, tugging through the lace. Her squeal rent the air, and the spice of her scent began to permeate the intimate atmosphere. Slowly, deliberately, I eased the spaghetti straps down her shoulders, freeing her soft, perky breasts from their silken cups into my broad palms.
I took the full, round orbs in my hands for a moment and weighed them. Fucking perfect – just made for handling. I kissed her gently on the mouth.
"They're so much better in person."
I whimpered gratefully, following him down as he relaxed back to the mattress. He ghosted his fingertips down my sensitive sides, making me shiver involuntarily. This was a well-worn path, a trail of erogenous zones he could follow blindfolded. At my waist he caught the fabric of my jeans and underwear and just kept going, stripping me down to the bare skin beneath until only the red scrap was left around my middle. It quickly followed, landing on the floor without a sound.
Then I eagerly repositioned myself straddling his yummy torso. I've seen him get bulkier as the conditions of his scholarship mean serious time in weights training and whoa. All my girl parts get slippery just thinking about those sculpted lines, let alone having him bared and underneath me. Then I freaking gush. I think when I'm in a steady job I'm going to contribute money to college football, as a thank you for creation of the Adonis squirming under me now.
His palms slip onto my shoulder blades so he can guide a tight pink nipple straight to his mouth. My skin is stretched taught and super-sensitive so when the tip of my breast meets his firm tongue we both shudder.
"Oh god," I whispered under my breath. "So much better than my fingers."
That got a deep moan out of him and I knew he was imagining me touching myself, cupping my sensitive breasts as I tend to do when we're having cyber sex. I perform that little act just for him. I actually get off on watching his reaction, just as much as the physical sensation of my own hands.
A quick flip and I'm underneath him, his big hand cupping my thigh, caressing the defined limb. I eagerly wrap it around him, shuddering at the feel of his taught hips against the creamy, unblemished skin. I want more, and lazily dance the soles of my feet over his flanks, exploring Emmett with everything I have. I think there are new muscles on the back of his thighs. Mental note: do a more thorough inspection later. Eventually my toes scrape over his buttocks and I manage to take off his jeans with just my feet. The soft cotton wrapped around his big cock isn't doing anything to restrain the demanding fucker, only making it slightly bulkier. Wow that's hot.
His cock is so close to home that I cry out, startled, when he yanks himself away.
"Get back here," I order breathlessly.
In a rush he dives over the end of the bed, taking up the discarded jeans and fishing out his wallet.
Stupid man. He is opening the condom by the time I can sit up. I take a deep breath and one of his hands. Technically we're supposed to be apart, or at best be having occasional casual sex at the holidays. Condoms are a must in that kind of lifestyle.
The confusion on his face is clear when I guide his thumb beneath my armpit. It takes a bit of feeling to find the right spot but it's clear on his features when he encounters the small lump.
"What the hell is that?" he asked confusedly, rubbing his thumb back over it.
There's a level of cute worry written on his face that I adore. I really really hate putting myself out there emotionally, which is why I don't do it very often. Oh well, here goes nothing.
"I got the implant," I explained succinctly. "It's good for three years."
His eyes widen and I can see him calculating what this means. The implant, long lasting birth control. Then his deep blue eyes light up and he dives on me, symbolically throwing the condom behind him.
"Fuck baby …that's so…awesome."
He crushes our mouths together, and I pull him back down on top of me. While he kisses, he is opening up my thighs again, trying to press into the cradle that will provide us both with long promised relief.
I snapped the toned creamy skin shut tight. One little thing we have to take care of first.
I shot out from under him and perched at the head of the bed. I swung my hair forward so my breasts were hidden by the blonde curtain which forced him to look up into my eyes. The pout had already started forming and I knew I wouldn't be able to deny him long. God the dimples were coming out, the honey of my insides was already flowing but now it began to drip. I couldn't resist those suckers.
Determinedly I pointed a long accusing finger at him.
"If you've been with someone else recently you need to tell me right now. We're still going to have sex, we just need to use a condom," I dictated.
I was not going to be someone's mom at twenty, that part I could ensure. If he gave me some cheerleader skank disease because he needed a little relief while we were apart for months at a time, then there was no coming back from that. That was the only part that had to be his responsibility.
He encircled his cock in his gorgeous dextrous fingers and started stroking. It was turning a dark, mouth watering purple now, too engorged to ignore. I clenched inside and my tongue darted out to wet my lips. Oh dear lord I needed it. Just the perfectly formed head, dipping inside me.
He must have seen me staring, how could he not? But only sounded the tiniest bit smug, mostly desperate as he asked
"You think I'd be hard like this if it hadn't been two months?"
I reached out, entranced by it. Hard like this. Oh god, oh god. It was so long and beautiful, the veins visibly throbbing with want. I ran a fingertip down one of them, then teasingly wrapped my hand around his girth. Brushed his fingers away and started stroking gently. This was the softest part of Em's body. The covering skin at least, what it laid over, now that was just as hard as he claimed.
"I don't know. It's always so big and heavy when I'm around."
He growled, clearly he didn't have enough restraint to take any teasing at this stage. He pushed me back to the soft comforter and was forcing my thighs open so he could press himself up against my entrance. He was well and truly ready for homecoming and this time I was head of the whorish cheersquad.
Give me an E. Give me an M. Give me an M-E-T-T.
He managed to remain unmoving as I pitched beneath him like a ship on a stormy sea. My legs were braced and I was ready to have the ocean liner sluice into its berth.
"This is me 'experiencing the world'," he said softly.
Oh great. I pushed him too far. Now he's going to tease me, and punish me. And I hate our goddamn parents for ever making it like this.
"Having new experiences," he continued. "For instance, I've never done it in this hotel."
His eyebrows danced lasciviously as he tossed his head toward the floor.
"I've never done it without a condom. And I've never wanted to do it with anyone but you."
There it was, the truth I could never hear enough.
"You should," I pointed out quietly. "Esme and Carlisle want you to."
My heart and body hate that thought. I told him it was fine if he wanted to experiment but inside I was his and he was mine. All mine.
"Have you?" he snapped back angrily.
I bit my lip, sorry to have ruined our reunion with this seriousness, then slowly shook my head.
Good. Because should that happen he would have to have his genitals removed for pricking my Rosalie. I'd do it myself – rip them off with my bare hands and then incinerate them.
So I don't understand why everyone wants me to do that to her. And why I should stop doing this with the goddess I'd claimed as my own, when it felt so achingly good.
"Well why should I have to? Why can't I know what I want without risking picking up an STD again or knocking up some chick I don't want to be with?"
Why did I have to put my dick in someone else to know what I could already tell the world? Rosalie is the one for me. I don't get why I have to upset her with what is basically socially sanctioned adultery to prove myself.
I couldn't look into her violet eyes tearing up. Instead I leaned over and pressed my face into her neck.
"I tried that someone else thing twice and I hated it. I want you, only. Ever. You. You're the only person I'm sleeping with, because when I have kids its gonna damn well be with you. No one else. It's always a risk, and you're the only one I'm willing to risk it with. Hopefully not for a few years but if I get you pregnant then its just the rest of our lives starting, it won't fucking kill every dream I have. Now let me come home baby."
I felt her smile and open herself, welcoming me in. Her hand pressed on my lower back and I withdrew, looking her in the eye.
The surprise on her face must have reflected my own as I slid into her for the first time, bare.
"Fuuuuuck," she said softly, pupils dilating as her head tipped back.
Fuck is right.
"Oh shit," I swore, trying to restrain myself.
It felt good. Really, really good. It had been two months since we were together which could have accounted for the blood rush in my head. This was more than that though. This was hot, slick skin to stiff pounding flesh and it was fucking amazing. This is why they tell teenagers to use condoms – because if they knew how it felt bare, high schools would just be one knocked-up clap-infested orgy. God damn! No wonder the human race has survived this long! She squeezed and I could feel every skin cell shift against me.
"Oh wow that's good," her eyes rolled back in her head and I trembled with restraint. "I can't believe they all think you're a goddamn monk."
"Not. After. Tonight," I ground out. "Geeez baby. What are you –fuck!" I couldn't get my head around coherent speech.
Her muscles clamped down on me just as I slid the last few inches inside. Her fingernails sunk into my flexing biceps and I arched back, hips taking up a steady rhythm of retreat and thrust.
I worked her over long and hard, until she begged for my cum to fill her and my fingers to complete her. There's no holding back once the chick under you moans that out loud. I did – free of latex and restraint I had her twice before we retired to a hot bath.
Then again as we were exploring the spa feature. And once more on the lounge in front of the television. Before bed I worked hard to exercise my oral skills, which were a bit out of practice. Finally we succumbed to sleep with tentative whispers of "I love you" in the darkness.
It was to be brief, he awakened a handful of hours later hard and needy, simply reaching for his mate who pressed back, welcoming him inside her.
In the morning they went to breakfast – he ate the pea shoots they'd added as garnish to her plate. She massaged his knee where he'd taken a hit last night.
They took a walk around the college town, rugged up and pleasantly immune to the bitter cold. At lunch time they returned to their hotel.
They spread out on the floor, each with an assignment and a laptop. Despite the occasional flick with a pen or tickle of the feet, a genuine peace settled.
As night approached they ordered room service and retreated back to the hot bath. They made love as long as their bodies could stand.
The next afternoon he drove her to the airport and held her at the gate. He tenderly kissed her goodbye during the final boarding call, and felt sick as he watched her plane take off.
That was why he didn't want the cheerleaders who dropped to their knees for any member of the football team.
He had eighteen more months until he could finish college. Then the Rosalie-ban his parents had placed on him would be over.
Which meant eighteen more months until they could move in together, and eighteen more months until he could officially ask her to marry him.
Compared to the rest of their lives it was a relatively short period of time but… from where he was standing now, alone in the airport and ten weeks away from seeing his girlfriend again?
Eighteen months was a lifetime.