Disclaimer #1: You may want to read my one-shot, The Hummer, before you read this. Or, don't. See more below…
Just two short years after I posted The Hummer, I have finally FINALLY produced what I promised so long ago: The Hummer, only from Carlisle's POV. Now, don't get all "I don't do same story, different POV; it's a waste of my time" on me, I promise this is not that. This is Carlisle's back story – what led him to that fateful day where everything was turned topsy-turvy on its ass in that delicious red leather chair. Mmmm, how I love that red leather chair. Don't worry, it makes another appearance, promise.
Now, on to the important: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PUMA! Today is The Green Puma's ((at)thegreenpuma) birthday. Long ago and far away she and I totally fic-stalked each other. Long running argument about who-stalked-who-first later, we pronounced ourselves FicWives. The rest, as they say, is a sordid history full of late night breastfeeding tips, drooling over the Peach, juggling children and husbands, stalking celebrities in speakeasies, and general perving about. I love you, Puma. This one's for you. Happy Birthday!
I couldn't have done this without DazzledIn2008's crazy ass, who beta'd and shuffled words about, reeled me in when I went a little too far, and kept things as dirty as possible. Thank you, Honey!
Disclaimer #2: Stephanie Meyer owns everything except my plot twists, pervy Carlisle's dirty thoughts, and incredibly twat-numbing sexual frustration. Well, she owns a little of that herself, but not in this story… Thanks for the jumping off point, Stephanie! You made him Carlisle, I made him tortured and horny. LOVE!
I was in trouble.
Serious, serious trouble.
The minute I walked into the ER a year ago to find her tantalizing beauty perched next to Charlie, I knew this would not end well. And now, well, it was a year later and things were not improving.
I had to figure out how to fix this – for me and for Edward. He was my son in so many ways; I had to conquer these feelings. I had long ago mastered my restraint, but it was slipping. Rapidly. It worsened every day. Edward always saw himself as the end-all and be-all master of control, but I had over 200 years on my cocky son, and my self-control had never wavered. Not once, not ever. He'd had his days of playing god and tasting blood. I had never faltered – never even considered it. Not ever…until her.
The problem was, I didn't want to drain her dry. Not in the least. I wanted her heart pumping…oh, yes. Pumping. I wanted her alive-so, so alive-alive, squirming, thrashing in pleasure. Pleasure at my hands: head thrown back, lips parted and panting…above me.
Me. Mine. Shit, I was in so far over my head I couldn't even focus.
I was starting to lose my ability to keep Edward's mind probes fulfilled with innocent thoughts about the latest details of stem-cell or cancer treatment research. The minute I left his range of perception, my every thought was consumed with her smells, her beautiful body, her delicious, shy blush that made my venom pool in all its secret places.
I wanted her so badly I ached.
And poor Esme had no idea that our lovemaking wasn't relieving a thing. I loved Esme completely, but this was not about love. This was about obsession. I felt like a stalker with a frighteningly ferocious need to claim.
My vampire nature had been reborn with thoughts of her: possession, lust, obsession, and a violent need to be near her. It took all I had not to reach out and touch her when she would brush past me, not to purr in lust when she smiled at me, not to snatch her up and run off with her when I could smell her arousal…which was every single time she was in the vicinity of me, as those times coincided with time she spent with Edward. Edward, who had no concept of what it would feel like to take her in every sense of the word. To feel her around him, enveloping him. Not that I knew myself exactly how it would feel, as I'd never shared this experience with a human – only with Esme. But with a human, there would be differences: the heat, the allure of the pulsing blood, the desire to take.
Take. MINE! "Ugh!" I blinked, twice, with intent, as if I could squeeze the thoughts out of my brain by squeezing my lids together. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Just thinking of her had venom gathering and my upper lip twitching to curl back and bare my teeth so I could let out a growl. I was panting, trying to control my thoughts, and each time I breathed out, a raspy growl threatened to escape.
This was not working.
And this was how I felt after just passing her in the hallway on my way out of the house to leave for work. The minute the garage door had risen, I floored it out of there, the Mercedes responding easily, lurching forward toward the hospital.
"Okay, okay, okay," I said aloud, intentionally with an air of calm, thinking if I heard the words I would believe them.
But I couldn't.
When I had passed her in the hallway, she'd smiled at me, a friendly gesture. She had no idea what I was feeling… or more importantly, of what I was capable. In fact, she had no idea what any man could make her feel, much less me.
I've studied people for hundreds of years. I know how women responded to certain touches, certain words, certain expressions… breath against their skin, a brushing of hair against their lips. I was a scientist, and even if I'd done so without crossing any lines of adultery, I had studied women's reactions to men. To vampires. To me. To each other. I had studied these things just as I'd studied almost every other aspect of human behavior: with tenacity and a fastidious attention to detail. It was my nature. I hadn't spent more time on these aspects of human nature than any other, as they'd not held any more interest for me than any other aspect of humans I'd studied. But now…now, it was all coming into play. Or not coming into play, as it were.
And because of my research, I knew things that men who had only one lifetime to dedicate to discovering would never know.
I knew how to elicit thrills with words.
I knew how to induce a shudder with a well placed accidental touch or soft expression.
I had made women feel this way just to experiment with what their reactions would be, but I'd also made women tremble with want without actually making an effort to do so. My natural attractiveness and my vampire allure drew women to me without my conscious interference, which was easily proven with a quick sniff of the air. The scent of arousal was so easy to detect: a heady concoction of pheromones, a dash of adrenaline swirling in blood, and the all-telling smell of a woman's want emanating from between her legs. What a lovely perfume. I've always enjoyed it secretly, only Edward possibly knowing - having heard an errant thought from my head when he was first changed, before I had become skilled in blocking him out.
The perfume that emanated from Bella, however, had the power to make me stutter and crazy with want. It was a physical response and was so intense, the first time it happened, I felt as I'd been slammed into a wall with the force of the reaction. That moment I realized that, whereas Edward's body was attuned so finely to the song of Bella's blood, it was a song of a different nature that made me tremble with want.
My steps faltered that first day, but I corrected them before human eyes could take notice. With each step, I tightened down the control that I had worked so diligently to put into place over the centuries; only this control was not keeping me from drinking blood. It kept me from taking innocence.
Her complete and utter innocence added fuel to the well-stoked fire raging within me. I was a vampire, but I was a man first, and nothing was more alluring than a fresh rosebud so tightly wound on the vine. Unlike most men, though, these feelings brought shame to my unbeating heart. I shouldn't feel this way about my son's girlfriend, about a young woman. I was a husband, a father, a confidante, a leader, and a friend, and lusting after my son's girlfriend did little for my feelings of self worth.
I couldn't deny the physical reaction, though, and had tried to determine whence it came. I'd had no luck in determining its origins, nor why the power over me her body held was increasing in intensity. I only knew I was beginning to falter in shielding my thoughts and concerned I'd slip up with Edward as witness. I was also starting to lose hold of my cool demeanor in her presence.
For the duration of the drive home from work, I'd tried to piece together a plan on how to carefully set up mental barriers to keep my libido in check. If I was unsuccessful… well, I didn't want to think about those consequences.
Soooo? Tell me! Loved it? Hated it? Just want to know what kinda undies he's wearing?
Unf, I love you, Carlisle, with your Jekyll and Hyde-ness all hiding behind your cool, calm demeanor. ::wipes drool off keyboard::
This will probably be about 5 or 6 chapters. We'll see where Dirty Daddy C takes us.
On to the next REAL chappie. Which will be posted tomorrow. YES, tomorrow!