A/N: In case you didn't know, TwiSherry is not only a totally fly lady and such a blessing to this fandom, she also keeps us supplied with a plentitude of fuckhot pr0n via her tumblr & twitter. She posted a very fun pic, found here: http:(double slash)bit(dot)ly/iTQoxw and requested some fic to go with it. Who am I to deny her? So here we have some unbeta'd, totally PWP, non-srs bsns to the extreme, smutty fun. Completely indulgent and not intended for any sort of concrit, so I hope you'll: 1. Go look at the pic, 2. Read and enjoy my nonsense, and 3. Thank TwiSherry for her many levels of awesomeness. Onward! (PS- zomg it's not E/B but for once I actually wrote a canon pairing!)
That's odd, Emmett thought as he drove up Main Street, approaching the little drive-in he visited religiously every Tuesday and Thursday evening before starting his patrol. They had incredible burgers and rich chocolate malts, but best of all were the roller girls. Well, one in particular.
Emmett first saw the ridiculously hot blonde one night a couple months ago. He had pulled up for his usual pre-shift indulgence when he caught a glimpse of her skating on past, expertly holding a tray full of malts and baskets of fries. The girls there were always cute and sweet, but this one . . . fuck. Her uniform shirt clung tightly to perky tits and in that short little skirt she had legs that went on for days. He couldn't help but imagine them slung over his shoulders or wrapped around his waist like a vise. He'd never had such an instant, intense attraction to any woman.
As his usual waitress Jessica took his order, chipper attitude and ponytail high on her head, Emmett had been too distracted to make small talk and playfully flirt with Jessica like he normally did. Instead, his eyes were glued on Blondie, watching her come and go on those pristine white skates, gliding about as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
"That's Rosalie," Jessica had told him with a knowing grin. "I'll send her your way on Thursday," she'd added with a wink as she skated away from his cruiser.
True to her word, Jessica made sure it was Rosalie who had rolled and spun her way over to the hungry officer's car that day. Up close, he was startled by how blue her eyes were and the way her smile alone made him want to call in sick that night so he could stay and stare at her until they closed up shop.
Rosalie became his regular waitress, and he never tired of feasting his eyes on those toned thighs of hers or admiring the strong curve of her shoulders as she delivered food to her customers' cars. He flirted shamelessly, and she flirted right back, but that was it. He wished he could have gone after more, but she looked so damn young, maybe even still in high school. Not good for a twenty-eight year old police officer to get involved with.
Things were about to change, though.
Emmett checked in with the dispatcher, letting her know that he was going to check things out around Ruthann's Drive-In and Diner. Parking his cruiser in one of the drive in-spaces, he slid out, looking around the building suspiciously. There was a light on inside, and he could see a shadow moving about. Considering that it was getting close to two in the morning and he knew the diner closed at midnight, he had reason to be concerned. This wasn't a big city with a high crime rate, but it wasn't a small town either.
He'd never actually been inside the diner section of the restaurant, so he studied the layout through the wide window panes. The general seating area was empty and dark; the light was coming from an area that was slightly obscured in the back, possibly the kitchen or what he was most concerned about, the cash register.
Emmett's concern spiked when he tested the front door and found it to be unlocked. Creeping carefully and slowly inside, his senses on high alert and one hand held firmly over his gun, just in case, he looked all around and approached the lighted area.
He was understandably surprised when he heard faint music and a sweet voice softly accompanying it. There was Rosalie, behind the counter with her hips swaying, still wearing those damn skates, filling salt shakers.
"You really should lock up if you're closed for the night."
Rosalie spun around, hand over her heart and an expression of pure shock painting her pretty face.
"Officer McCarty! You scared the shit outta me! Was the door really unlocked?"
"How else would I get in here?" he asked, eyebrows perked in question.
She stomped one skate and scowled. "Damn it, Lauren," she grumbled. "She was supposed to lock it when she went out."
"What are you doing here so late anyway?" He took a few steps closer, approaching the counter.
"The high school boys won their summer league baseball tournament today. They came in to celebrate, and we kept the kitchen open a little later than usual. By the time they cleared out, the cooks had already gone and it was just me, Lauren, and Jess. Jess was feeling sick and Lauren was being a whiney bitch about staying late after we'd cleaned, so I sent them both home and stuck around to do all the nitty-gritty. Refilling condiments, prepping coffee for tomorrow, restocking to go containers and napkins. Sundays are busy, and I didn't want to be stuck without all this done tomorrow."
"How much more do you have to do?" Emmett asked, gesturing toward the supplies Rosalie had spread out on the opposite counter. "It's late, and I can't say I feel comfortable with you being here all alone."
Rosalie smiled – not in the sweet way she usually did but something still incredibly tempting – and held his gaze. "Maybe another fifteen or twenty minutes of work, I guess."
"Well then, I'll stick around 'til you're done. You want some help?"
She waved him off. "Thanks for the offer, but I've got it. If you're staying, why don't you take a seat? Want me to make you a malt?"
Emmett nodded and rounded one of the old fashion stools that was bolted to the floor. His eyes never left Rosalie as she moved gracefully on the other side of the partition the counter created. "You know I can't resist those."
Once Rosalie had prepared his treat and set it before him, Emmett grinned and thanked her, adding, "Thick and sweet, just the way I like it."
Rosalie's cheeks flushed, and Emmett inwardly questioned if he'd gone too far with that one. Sure, they flirted, but it was always with the safety of Rosalie's skates and Emmett's cruiser between them. His innuendo was quite direct and suggestive.
Fuck it, he thought, taking a sip. She hadn't slapped him, so it couldn't have been that bad.
As he enjoyed the late night snack Rosalie had made him, she brought her supplies to his side so they could be face to face while she finished her work.
"You like working nights?" she asked him casually.
He shrugged. "They're not bad. I've been doing them for a couple years now. I don't have kids like a lot of the other guys, so I don't mind taking the later patrols so they can be home with their families."
"You're not married?"
"Nah," he answered, shaking his head. "It's been a couple years since I dated anyone seriously."
Rosalie hummed in understanding but didn't say anything else for a few moments.
"You?" he asked after the stretch of silence between them. "A boyfriend, I mean. Uh, not a girlfriend. Unless you're . . . nevermind."
He felt like such an ass and ducked his head accordingly. What the hell was that, anyway? Emmett was always so cool, calm, and collected, but all the sudden, being alone in the diner with Rosalie was making him tongue tied and stupid.
"Never had a girlfriend," she said, humor lacing her tone. When he finally looked back up, she winked at him. "No boyfriend, either. I left his dumb butt behind when I graduated and moved back here."
"From college?" Emmett asked in surprise.
"What?" Rosalie asked, tightening the little silver lids on a row of pepper shakers.
"You're older than I expected, that's all," he replied.
She appeared to be finishing up, arranging salt and pepper shakers on a tray, then skating around the counter with it to deposit one of each to all the tables inside the diner.
"How old do I look to you?" she asked with a smile. She finished her deliveries and did a childlike little spin on a wide open area between some tables.
"About fourteen when you do that," Emmett teased. She glided past him, sticking out her tongue, and made her way behind the counter again. His malt was gone, so she snatched up the tall glass and rinsed it out before putting it through the window to the kitchen.
Without saying another word, Rosalie washed her hands in the sink nearby and skated back so she was directly across from Emmett. Slowly, she turned and lifted her butt to the counter, her back to him. When he realized she was pulling her legs up and spinning toward him, he backed up into his stool.
"Is that why you've never asked me out?"
Her tone shocked him and made it a little hard to breathe. This was beyond flirting. Sexy, sultry Rosalie was right there in front of him, staring at him with those bright blue eyes and an expression that screamed of seduction.
"I . . ." He tried, but couldn't form a logical thought.
"You stare, Officer McCarty. I see you doing it."
"Emmett. Call me Emmett."
"Okay, Emmett," she said, grinning wickedly and tossing her legs over the counter, hanging loosely on either side of his thighs.
Fuck, she was in a skirt. He tensed further.
"It's like I can feel your eyes on me, and even if I couldn't, I hear about it from all the other waitresses."
She was even closer, her damn skirt so high up on her legs that he could almost see Heaven. Having those toned, alluring legs so close made him want to reach out and run his hands up and down her smooth, tanned skin, but he resisted the urge, clenching his fingers into tight fists.
"So what's the problem, Emmett?"
He was being seduced. Holy shit, he was being seduced. He knew it, and she knew what she was doing, and fuck it all they were alone in the diner and she was wearing the skirt and the tight shirt and the skates and she was so fucking close to falling into his lap.
Her legs pressed against his outer thighs, squeezing, but she didn't speak.
"Maybe I was waiting for you to ask me out," he finally answered, giving her a small, playful smile.
Ever so slowly, Rosalie reached for his hands, and once he'd given them over, she pulled until he scooted closer. He was tall enough that sitting, it wasn't too much of a difference for her to lean forward and kiss him. Their lips met softly as first, testing, then teasing, and after mere seconds, they both gave in.
Emmett was on his feet instantly, angling himself halfway out from behind the stool to steady himself. She felt better than he'd ever imagined she would, and the way she tasted, smelled, everything . . . he was lost in her without any hope of refuting her now.
He didn't – and couldn't – object when she started working through the buttons of his uniform shirt. She was sucking his bottom lip fiercely, doing magical things with her tongue, and if she wanted to take off his clothes, he was damn straight going to let her. It slid off his shoulders without too much struggle, and she tossed it over the back of one of the other stools before pulling him closer. His hands were exploring her curves and getting to know the firmness of her full breasts when she licked a path down his neck, sucking hard on the side and making him groan and shift uncontrollably.
"Fuck me," she commanded, and as crazy as it all was, who was he to say no to her? Hell, what man in his right mind would say no to a woman as hot as Rosalie who was undressing him and telling him exactly what she wanted? Her confidence made her all the more sexy, and as much as he wanted to treat her right and respectfully, he couldn't deny that he did indeed want to fuck her. Soft, hard, whatever he could get.
He reached under her skirt and found the waistband of her thin undies, working them off and down her legs in a matter of seconds. She spread her legs, skirt flipped up, and he moaned at the sight of her all bare and inviting. He started unbuckling his belt when realization hit.
"I'd don't have anything," he said, pulling away from her in an attempt to ease the frenzied need they both felt.
A frown marred Rosalie's pretty face, but she reached for his white T-shirt and pulled him closer. "I'm clean. It's been months and I've been tested."
"You sure?" he asked desperately. He knew it was never a good idea to do something like that, but he just wanted her so fucking badly, especially when he'd already had a taste of her. "I mean, me too, but . . . you're on something?"
"Yeah, I promise," she told him hastily, yanking him down to slip her tongue back into his mouth.
All of Emmett's hesitation evaporated, and he frantically got back to his belt as Rosalie tugged at the button and zipper of his uniform slacks.
"Wow," she marveled as her fingers wrapped around his ever-hardening cock.
"Oh yeah?" he asked smugly. She was already stroking slowly and testing his weight in her hand, and his knees trembled slightly in anticipation.
"Oh yeah," she confirmed, smiling hugely at him. Leading once more, she took his hand and guided it between her legs. His fingertips teased at first, but they slid inside her warmth so easily. He knew she was going to feel amazing.
"Come here, Blondie." Emmett adjusted his stance, straddling the stool slightly for balance, and replacing her hand with his own to guide his cock to the place they both wanted it to be. Once he was inside, they both needed a moment. Rosalie squeaked out a sharp breath, and Emmett felt a shudder roll straight down his spine. Reflexively, his left hand shot out to brace himself on the back of the stool.
Slowly, he began pulling out, and just as slowly he pushed his way back in. Their eyes were glued between them, watching how her body welcomed his, and when his cock was revealed again, his skin glistened with her wetness. It was one of the hottest things either of them had ever seen. But soon enough, Rosalie couldn't take the pace any longer, and she clawed at Emmett, tugging until he was closer, pumping harder and faster, and their lips could meet intermittently to seal the connection they shared.
She whispered dirty, wonderful things to him, telling Emmett how good his big cock felt, how he hit all the right spots, where to push harder, and when to go faster. He'd never thought he would hear her sweet, charming voice turn dark in the throes of passion or feel the definition in her legs as he clasped her thighs in place. Best of all, she was still in those damn white skates with the frilly socks peaking over the top, and they banged against the counter as he continuously thrust into her. Every time he glanced at them, something triggered within him, making him more wanton and needful than he'd ever been.
When he lifted one of her legs a little higher, letting the crook of her knee rest against his forearm, all tangled together, Rosalie made a sound unlike any other he'd heard from her thus far. He wanted to hear it again – the noises she would only make for him – so he pulled the leg higher and was rewarded immediately. He quickly wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling them flush together, and lifted her leg higher, until her calf was angled on his shoulder and one of those skates dangled beside his head. He playfully reached up and spun one of the wheels, looking into Rosalie's eyes and smiling for her.
The new angle was perfect for both of them. It made her so fucking tight and taut, her pussy squeezing his cock harder to pull the pleasure out of his body. For Rosalie, he knew it was what would drive her to a breaking point because those cries he'd been relishing were non-stop at last, growing louder and louder each time he pulsed his hips against hers. He bent his knees and thrust upward forcefully, changing the angle just the slightest bit, and that was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.
"Ahh!" Rosalie cried, her arms wrapping around him, holding on for dear life. He hit that angle a few more times until he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled out in time to shoot a stream of hot come over her thigh that was still on the counter, then reached for the napkin dispenser to clean her up. They both gazed at the evidence of all their pleasure on her skin for just a moment, coming down from their respective highs.
He kissed her tenderly, lifting her off the counter and placing her on her skates carefully, smoothing down her skirt and handing her the panties that had been tossed aside with his shirt. Once she was steady, he tucked himself back into his pants and redressed in his uniform. He was certainly a little unkempt, but he didn't mind his appearance one bit after that. Rosalie disappeared for a few moments, coming out of the kitchen area with a purse and a pair of flip flops. After changing out of her skates, she wiped down the counter where they'd just fucked and straightened the barstools.
"Ready?" he asked, reaching out for her hand. She nodded and took it, weaving their fingers together.
As she locked up the diner, Emmett leaned against the door, waiting patiently. "God, I love this place," he said reverently.
Rosalie giggled and pressed her body to his. "Thanks for coming to check up on me tonight, Officer."
"Mmm . . . my pleasure," he mumbled, their lips meeting in a sweet, simple kiss. "When can I see you?"
"You know you'll see me Tuesday."
"I'm not talking about here. When can I see you? I'd really love to take you out sometime."
"I'll call you," she said with a smile. Holding her hand out for his cell phone, she programmed her number in, then hit send to flash his number on the screen of her own. He watched, protectively, as she slid into the front seat of her car, an older but still shiny red BMW, and he followed suit into his cruiser. Just to be safe, he trailed behind her for several blocks until she pulled into the parking lot in front of a row of townhouses. He paused, waiting for her to get inside, and once he knew she was safe, he returned to his usual route.
Checking in with dispatch, he resumed his usual routine. He knew he'd have sweet dreams when this shift was over, and hopefully, he'd hear from Rosalie soon.