A/N: Thanks to the wonderful Jennrosee for the beta job—and the stray comment that started this plot bunny in the first place. Not sure if she realized where I'd take it...
For the incredibly beautiful banner, kudos to vbfb19. I could just look at it for hours. Here's the link (just close the spaces):
http:/ www. flickr. com/ photos/ 65592095N02/ 5971508030/
Disclaimer: Stephenie owns all. No copyright infringement is intended. I just had a sudden urge to play with Esme and wondered how the sweetest vampire and the sweetest werewolf would be together if they were human. Does that even make sense? Well, anyway...
I Possessed My Lover in the Garden
Tilling the Ground
Orange roses symbolize passion, desire. Esme found their presence in her garden ironic: as much as she wrote about those feelings, she hadn't truly experienced them. She was fertilizing the flowers—myriad shades of salmon, apricot, coral—when she first heard the name Seth. She would later find that prophetic.
"You were my first regular customer. I'm happy to take care of this place personally when you're out of town, but I can highly recommend Seth. He's worked for me off and on over the last few years, and he's a hard worker who knows his plants."
Esme met Jake's earnest gaze and, despite her nerves at the thought of a stranger in her garden, she couldn't deny Jake his success. He needed Seth's help on her routine yard maintenance because he himself was gaining a reputation for his landscape design work. She smiled fondly at him. "I'm sure he'll do fine. It's not complicated, and it's only when I'm traveling. I know how much you're in demand these days."
A cocky grin appeared on his face, acknowledging the accuracy of her comment. Modesty was not in Jake's nature, but loyalty was. "Yeah, but like I said, I owe you. I would've been an overgrown teenager asking people if I could mow their lawns for a few bucks if it wasn't for you."
"Thanks, but do what you need to do. I'll let you know my schedule. It's a week here and there."
"Great. I'll send Seth over tomorrow so you can meet him."
Planting the Seed
"Hi, I'm Seth Clearwater. Jake sent me?"
Esme's hand rested on the doorknob as she tried to decipher her reaction to the young man before her. In some ways, he was just as she had imagined: tall, fit, the coppery skin and dark hair and eyes of his heritage. In other ways, though, he was a surprise. He was older than she expected; Jake had said he was a recent graduate, which she thought meant high school, but he had to be in his early twenties. Also, she had anticipated a personality like Jake's: outgoing and cocky. Seth's manner suggested steadiness and a hint of diffidence. Can a man be...sweet? She wondered. She'd only associated that word with dessert, children, and pets.
The biggest surprise was her reaction to him: comfortable and flustered at the same time. She felt more alive—more aware—but also as if she could focus only on him. She was suddenly conscious that she had forgotten to put on a bra or brush her hair. She wondered if her shorts were too short and was glad that she had shaved her legs the night before.
"Yes, he told me. Sorry, I didn't sleep well and I'm a little slow this morning." Well, I do have insomnia... "Why don't I give you a quick tour?"
She led the way around to a garden shed and showed him the tools and supplies. She pointed out a few unusual varieties of plants and mentioned the special care they needed. "Jake told you I just need help when I'm traveling?"
"Yes, he said you're usually gone a week or so at a time. You travel for work?" Seth tried to think of a way to get more information out of her without being too obvious. She wasn't at all what he had pictured on his way over, based on Jake's description and his vague high school memories of her around town. He surveyed her appearance surreptitiously.
"Um, yeah." If Jake hadn't told Seth what she did for a living, she wasn't going to mention it, not while she was struggling with her response to him. Thinking of the scene she had been typing when he arrived, with Seth in place of her hero, brought color to her cheeks and a more tangible effect elsewhere. Please tell me he can't see my nipples getting hard. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Uh oh, Seth thought, reading her body language as shutting him down. Could she tell I was checking her out? So much for being subtle. I hope I haven't offended her.
He found himself intrigued by her. Of course, her story was well-known in the small town, widowed at a ridiculously young age when her husband, drunk out of his mind, drove his car straight into a tree. He remembered seeing her after the accident, before he'd left for college: a small woman, hair scraped back, head down so that he never did get a good look at her face, wearing baggy clothes in dull, dark colors. He would never have recognized the woman who answered the door as Esme. Small, yes, but generous curves were revealed by her bright yellow tank top and jean cut-offs, especially since she wasn't wearing a bra. The gentle sway of her breasts as she walked had held his gaze whenever he thought she wouldn't notice. Her long, light brown hair was tousled in a just-fucked look that made him wonder if she might have a man in the house, waiting for her to return. He guessed she must be about ten years older than he was, but she sure didn't look it. Either way, his body didn't seem to care.
He realized she had stopped speaking and, with an effort, focused on the conversation. "Well, that seems simple enough. Just let me know your schedule, and I'll take care of everything." Too bad the work would be done while she was out of town. He wouldn't mind seeing her again.
"All right. I'll be leaving Thursday for four days, so if you could just check on everything a couple of times, that would be great." Esme was both relieved and disappointed that she might not see him again. She realized that she wanted to be around him. She felt a pull toward him in a part of her she'd forgotten was there.
"Sure thing. I'll take care of things and check with you when you get back to make sure it's what you had in mind." Pleased with himself for thinking of the excuse to drop by when she was back, he smiled. He had to know if he was doing a good job, he reasoned.
I'll see him at least once more, she thought, equally cheered and nervous, and returned the smile.
They parted, each thinking and wondering about the other.
A Little Rain
Esme arrived home late Sunday night, exhausted and wanting nothing more than to fall into her own bed. What made her publicist think that five cities in four days was a good idea? She'd barely been able to catch her breath. She awoke in the early afternoon, parched and famished. She dressed quickly in a pair of khaki shorts and a pale green polo and wandered downstairs in search of lunch. Afterward, she wandered outside to bask in her garden. She was pleased to find everything well cared for. Seth had obviously mowed the lawn, and she noticed that the suckers on her flowering trees, which she'd been meaning to cut back, had disappeared.
The sun was making a rare appearance in the Olympic Peninsula, so she stretched out on a lounge chair and soaked it in. Her eyes drifted shut, and she filled her lungs with the fragrance of pine and cedar, roses and lilacs. Her breathing deepened, and she slept.
She dreamed of her garden. She wandered from plant to plant, each blooming at her touch. She smiled to see the flowers spread their petals, the branches stretch to the sky. She came upon a mirror blocking her path. She saw herself, a slender woman, neither beautiful nor ugly, just there. As she looked at her reflection and considered ways to remove this barrier, Seth's image appeared in the mirror behind her. His deep brown eyes met hers with a warmth—a wanting—that she couldn't ignore. She had described these feelings so many times in her books, but she had never felt them so vividly herself. Her breath quickened, and she felt her breasts lift, begging for attention. A liquid heat swirled deep within her, seeming to pull her toward him. But should she go forward toward the mirror or step back against him in reality?
While she tried to decide, another figure appeared in the mirror, and this image erased any thought of encouraging Seth's desire—or her own. Any idea she'd had of feeling more than resignation for Charles Evenson's marital embrace had disappeared by the end of her honeymoon. A lack of pain she labeled a good experience; the not-so-good experiences she drove from her mind as much as possible.
As the image invaded her sleep and she began fidgeting on the lounge chair, Seth rounded the corner of the house. He had seen her car in the drive, so he knew she was home. When she didn't answer the doorbell or his knock, he figured she was in her backyard and made his way along the slate and gravel path. He was glancing around the yard, looking for her, when his attention was drawn by a quiet whimper. Looking toward the sound, he saw Esme lying on a lounge chair, tossing restlessly. Another small cry sent him to her side.
Her body jerked as he reached her, her eyes opening to see his silhouette outlined by the sun behind him. She couldn't view him clearly, and reflexively she recoiled back against the chair, lifting an arm to shield her face.
Seth was anxious to reassure her. "Esme? It's me, Seth. You were dreaming." He started to reach out a hand to offer comfort but dropped it when she backed away even more. Unconsciously, his voice lowered and softened. "It's okay. It was just a dream. You're all right."
Her arm dropped, and she straightened out of the coiled position she had held. She exhaled sharply and tried to get her breathing under control. She managed a shaky smile. "Seth, hi. Sorry, I was worn out from the trip and must have fallen asleep." She pushed back her hair with both hands, sat up, and tried to compose herself.
Seth relaxed and returned her smile, though his was considerably steadier. "Bad dream, huh?"
Esme sighed and gave him a wry look. "Yeah. A little disorienting." She stood and smoothed her shirt. "I was actually out here admiring the work you did while I was gone. I'd been meaning to get to those trees before I left." Her voice was shaky for the first few words, but it was steady by the time she finished speaking. She smiled again, this time genuinely. "Everything looks great. Thanks."
Now that she was no longer held in the nightmare's aftermath, she let her eyes drink him in. He really was gorgeous. If she were someone else, or herself ten years earlier, maybe...but it was useless to speculate.
"No problem. That's what I'm here for." He grinned, trying to cheer her out of the somber mood the dream had triggered. He wondered what it had been about. She seemed so small and vulnerable, and his protective instinct was triggered. At the same time, he had to appreciate how her shorts showed off her great legs, and he was sorry to see that she had remembered a bra today.
They walked around the house to where his truck was parked and stood, a little awkwardly, each trying to decide what to say and do.
Handshake? No, too formal.
Hug? No, no, we barely know each other...but I bet it would feel awesome...
This is ridiculous, just say goodbye!
Fist bump? Oh, come on, really...
After a minute that felt like twenty, they grinned sheepishly at each other.
"See you. Just let me know next time you're traveling and I'll stop by."
"Sure. Thanks again." She waved a little as he climbed in his truck and watched him drive away.
She sighed again. She knew the dream was a warning. Intellectually, she thought she could trust Seth. On some visceral level, she knew she could. But as much as she might desire Seth, even if he might want her, too, she had to get past the memories before anything could come of it.
A Little Sun
"So how long are you going to be gone this time?" Seth's deep voice stirred a longing within her, nothing like she'd ever felt. She suppressed it; there was no point to it. She was glad to see him before she left, though, and mentally patted herself on the back for thinking to ask if he could come over to talk about a couple of things she'd like him to do while she was gone.
"A week. Not quite as hectic as the last trip though. I actually get to spend two nights in the same place for once."
Good. Maybe she won't be so worn out this time. She's looking good today, that's for sure. Unlike Esme, Seth saw no need to suppress his response. Her sleeveless dress left her toned arms bare, and the low V-neck shifted enough that he caught a glimpse of the inner slopes of her breasts. The layered skirt floated around her long legs but still clung enough for him to see and appreciate the shape of a pert ass.
He decided he'd better distract himself before his interest became too obvious. "What is it you do? I never found out."
She blushed. "Oh, I write. The trips are promotional tours for my books. One just came out, so I have signings and interviews. It's part of my contract." Please don't ask what I write...please...
Seth was impressed and curious about the blush. "Really? Wow, that's great! What kind of books do you write?"
Her blush intensified. Of course. Who wouldn't ask? "Um, novels. Women's fiction." There, that was vague enough, right?
Seth heard what she didn't say and grinned. "Sexy romances?"
Defeated, she admitted, "Yes. I won an amateur contest a few years ago, and that got me a publishing deal."
Seth realized she was embarrassed but couldn't see why. He let his grin fade and asked, "Do you mind that I know? I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."
She looked at him and realized she didn't mind that he knew. "No, I don't mind. A lot of people do, so you'd probably have heard about it sooner or later. It's just...every so often, someone—a man—assumes things about me because of what I write. It's more a lively imagination than anything else. And the internet is always useful." She chuckled a little uneasily.
Hmm, a little imagination could be a very good thing... He couldn't stop the thought, but at the same time, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. With an effort, he kept his eyes on her face and smiled. Shame, though. As hot and sweet as she is, why does she have to rely on imagination and technology?
His musings were interrupted as a red BMW sped up the driveway and pulled to a stop in front of them. A tall blonde beauty stepped out of the driver's seat and looked at the pair. "Hey, there. You ready to go, Esme?"
"Yes, all set. Rosalie, this is Seth. He's looking after my garden when I'm out of town. Seth, this is my friend, Rosalie. She's giving me a ride to the airport." Rosalie smiled coolly and raised her hand in a brief salute.
Seth smiled, waved, and murmured a greeting before turning back to Esme. "Don't worry about anything here. I've got it covered. Travel safe, and take care."
Esme stared at him for a full second. No one had ever said anything like that to her. Such simple words to have such an impact on her. She caught herself before the silence and stare became awkward. "I will. Thanks, Seth."
He found her low voice arousing, and combined with the flirty dress, the effect was enough to make him cautious about speaking in case his voice was unsteady. He just smiled and opened the car door for her, then placed her suitcase in the trunk as she and Rosalie got into the car. He came back in time to close her door and looked down to realize that this angle gave him an even better view of her breasts. His body reacted predictably, and he suddenly realized that his crotch was at her eye level. He felt himself blush a little and stepped back quickly from the car. He waved as the car reversed, then headed to his truck. Phew! Hope that wasn't too obvious.
In the car, Esme was trying to come to terms with the sight of Seth's arousal and its undeniable effect on her. She would have attributed his reaction to Rosalie's presence, as her friend generated similar reactions from ninety percent of the male population, but he had barely glanced at the blonde. Instead, she had felt his gaze on the low neckline of her dress, almost as if he'd been touching her. Her response shocked her: as on the first day, her nipples hardened, and she felt again the liquid warmth deep within that had first come to her in her dream.
She shifted on the seat, drawing a laugh from Rosalie.
"Have you slept with him yet?"
"What? No, of course not. He's at least ten years younger than me, he works for me...sort of...it would be wrong. And oh, my God, my landscaper? Could anything be more cliched? Just call me Cougar Chatterley." Esme had not expected such a blunt question, which, considering this was Rosalie, was probably stupid.
Rosalie's grin faded. "What would be wrong? You're both single, you're both adults, and only in the loosest sense could he be said to be working for you. If that's all that's stopping you, ask Jake to take the yard work back."
"That's not all that's stopping me. I just..." Her voice trailed off. She wasn't going to say what was really holding her back.
Rosalie's words were brusque, but her tone was sympathetic. "I know what you 'just.' You just need to move on. It's been years. You obviously have untapped sexuality that you should explore. And cliches got to be cliches because there's truth in them." Rosalie had been the one who'd gently bullied Esme into submitting some fantasies she'd written down as therapy to the contest that had won her the publishing deal, and she knew that those fantasies inspired Esme's books. She paused, waiting for the expected objection. When it didn't come, she glanced at Esme in surprise. "You really are interested in him, aren't you? That's the first time ever you haven't shot down a suggestion that you try sex with a real man instead of living in a fucked-up memory."
Esme grimaced, too used to Rosalie to take offense. "He's...well, you saw him. He's absolutely beautiful. He's smart—he's starting graduate school in the fall, biology. And he's so...kind, sweet. It's disconcerting. I was so sure he'd be a cocky jock, but he's not."
"Well, I'm not going to ruin this by pushing. I'll say one thing, though—well, two things. One, you know I understand your hesitancy." Rosalie's history was similar to Esme's—she did understand, and the unusual softness in her voice showed it. "But it doesn't have to be the way it was. Don't deny yourself a wonderful part of life because of your past. If you have this strong a reaction to him, it's worth giving it a chance. That type of chemistry is rare."
Her tone reverted to normal as she teased, "Two, he's totally into you. He barely looked at me before going back to devouring you with his eyes. He thought you were hot in that dress."
They both laughed, though Esme also blushed. They both fell silent, and Esme found herself unable to ignore Rosalie's words. Rosalie knew what she was talking about. She had overcome the aftermath of a horrendous attack to enjoy a very...enthusiastic...sex life with her fiance, Emmett. Esme was ready to try a physical relationship; she simply hadn't met anyone who interested her in that way. Now she had.
Her thoughts became a collage of Seth, herself, and scenes from her books. Could she branch out, get to know a side of herself she'd ignored for so long, except in her writing? For the first time since her wedding night, she wanted to, and her mind returned to the idea again and again as the car sped to the airport.
Meanwhile, Seth wandered into Forks' only bookstore, passed through the stacks to the romance section, and started looking for Esme's name, hoping that she didn't use a pseudonym. As it turned out, she did, but she was known as a local author, and the store had a display devoted to her work. There couldn't be two bestselling romance authors in a town this size. Without letting himself think too much about it, he grabbed a couple of the books at random and went to the cashier. He could get a lot of reading done in a week.
A Shoot Appears
A week later, Seth was mulching a flowerbed in a light mist when he heard the BMW's purr in the driveway. He remained where he was, working, but he listened closely. He heard the low murmur of female voices, the slam of a car door, then the trunk, and finally, the sound of footsteps coming around the house.
He looked up to see Esme approaching him, and desire rushed throughout his body. She was wearing beige tweed slacks and a rust-colored silk blouse with the top three buttons undone, showing a hint of cleavage. Her hair was loose, and her soft lips were parted in a half-smile. She was breathtaking.
"Hey. I didn't expect to see you so soon." Her expression told him how welcome the surprise was, and her eyes ranged over him, shirtless, in faded jeans that clung to his thighs.
"I knew you were getting in today, and I thought I'd have things looking nice for you."
"That's great. Aren't you cold, though?" Not that I want you to cover up that incredible chest and those wonderful abs, but I don't want you chilled, either.
Seth laughed. "I'm never cold. I barely notice this little bit of summer mist." They looked at each other for a moment, then he continued, "Want me to take in your suitcase for you?"
"No, thanks, I already set it inside." She paused, gathering her nerve. Could she do this? Looking at the warm welcome in his eyes, her resolve firmed. "Would you mind if I changed and gave you a hand? I've missed this." The garden, but him, too. When a reader at one of the signings asked where she found the inspiration for her heroes, his image had appeared in her mind.
"That would be great." Seth watched her walk into the house, admiring the sway of her hips and the way the cut of the slacks outlined her ass. Yes! She doesn't have to come out here—she feels it, too. Seth couldn't wait for her return.
A Leaf Unfurls
She didn't rush, mulling over what Rosalie had said and the thoughts she'd had while she was away. Eager to be with him again, she nevertheless returned within minutes, clad in jeans and a peach, scoop-necked t-shirt with long sleeves. She'd been torn between showing some skin and warmth, and she figured skin covered with goosebumps would not be attractive. But the scoop neck was rather low, and the color warmed her skin tone and contrasted nicely with her hair and eyes. His appreciative gaze as she joined him let her know she'd chosen well.
They worked together easily, not getting in each other's way. Quiet conversation alternated with comfortable silence. He told her more about graduate school, and he answered her questions about why he chose biology and his future plans. She told him a little more about her writing. He mentioned that he'd read two of her books while she was gone. She blushed but bravely asked what he'd thought. He admitted with a smile that he'd enjoyed them more than he thought he would. He almost commented on the sex scenes, but he didn't want to disturb their rapport. He couldn't stop his thoughts, though, and remembering that those scenes were her fantasies made him hope he could bring a few of them to life.
He was kneeling, pulling weeds, when a stubborn one made him curse under his breath, and he asked Esme to pass him the weeder. She fetched it, and as she leaned over to give it to him, she lightly touched his shoulder. She could feel the warmth, the hard muscle, and when he didn't pull away, she let her hand remain there, savoring the sensation. He looked back over his shoulder at her, gauging her intent. She took a deep breath and saw his eyes drop to her chest. An unfamiliar feeling of...pride...rose in her—pride that he liked what he saw, that her body drew such a reaction from him. She smiled at the discovery.
The First Bud
He looked back at her face in time to see the smile and thought she'd never looked more amazing. The garden work forgotten, he rose to his feet and took her hands in his. He watched carefully to see if his touch was welcome. When she stepped toward him, he let his hands skim up her arms...over her shoulders...until he was cupping her face in his palms, his fingers in her hair. Hazel eyes met brown in mutual understanding before they drifted shut as he lowered his head and their lips met for the first time.
She gasped at the contact, sensation darting from her lips throughout her body. He took advantage of her open mouth to pull her lower lip between his, sucking and nibbling before releasing it, only to run the tip of his tongue along the inner edge. She moaned softly, opening further and letting her tongue emerge. She took one more step forward and brought her body to his. His warm strength against her made her want to get even closer, and her arms closed around his waist, eliminating any distance between them.
Seth was charmed by the tentative touches of her tongue against his. It darted out, then retreated, then returned with more confidence. He pulled back for a moment, shifted the angle, and dove back in. Pressing his lips more firmly to hers, he coaxed them open and sent his tongue to savor her taste. Taking his time, he explored the inner edges of her lips, her palate, the edges of her teeth, and then he let himself rub his tongue against hers. He felt a thrill when she returned the caress.
Esme felt almost virginal—hesitant, overwhelmed by new feelings. She couldn't believe this was the same act she'd experienced before; it was so very different from her memories. Seth was gentle and patient, coaxing but not pushing. She grew more adventurous with his encouragement, entwining her tongue with his, enjoying the textures and her increasing arousal.
Seth was surprised the mist didn't turn to steam as it touched them. He combed his hands through her hair, tilting her head to one side as he finally left her lips to seek out the hollow behind her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe and was rewarded by her shiver before she pressed herself to him. Her breasts burned against his chest, making him want to strip off her t-shirt. He contented himself with the throat left bare by the shirt's scoop neck. Not rushing, savoring every inch of skin, his mouth wandered and his tongue tasted.
Esme's head fell back, allowing Seth to explore as he liked. She had never felt more...cherished...in her life. She could feel his erection against her belly, but he made no move to take her—he hadn't even touched her below the neck! His hands were still threaded through her hair, not grabbing her ass, and his mouth lingered in the hollow at the base of her throat rather than attacking her breasts. She abandoned herself to the enchantment he wove, resolving to enjoy it as long as possible.
It took a few minutes for them to notice that the mist had become rain. Only when Esme's hair became wet, curling around his fingers, did Seth realize they were getting soaked.
He pulled back, whispering her name. He admired her flushed face, watching her eyes drift open. She seemed almost dazed, and he couldn't help the smug feeling that came over him. He had caused this reaction. His smile was gentle, though, as he let his hands drop from her hair to the small of her back. He wanted to let them fall even lower, but he wanted to take it slow, let her lead. He didn't know the details of her marriage, and he wasn't sure he wanted to, but he had gathered enough to know it hadn't been good. She was so special, he couldn't imagine any man not treasuring her, and he intended to do just that if she let him.
"It's raining. Do you want to go inside?" he asked, hoping she would let him come with her.
She looked at the sky and the raindrops fell, gathering on her eyelashes. She smiled, then laughed. "I didn't even notice. Yes, we should probably go inside." Suddenly uncertain, her smile faded as she added, "That is, if you want to come in?"
Seth laughed and scooped her into his arms, carrying her up the steps, across the deck, and into the house.
A Few More Blossoms
If she'd been asked before that afternoon, she would have guessed that being carried by a man would have frightened her; it was such a show of greater strength. But Seth's arms held her so carefully and were so warm, she didn't feel threatened at all. She wound her arms around his neck and snuggled into him as he sat on the sofa with her on his lap.
Not stopping to question, she followed her instinct to lean forward and trail her lips from the shoulder where her head rested to the base of his throat. As he had done, she dipped her tongue there, tasting salt and Seth. He groaned and she pulled back, unsure what that meant. He met her questioning gaze with a reassuring smile.
"That felt amazing. Please, do whatever you like."
More confident now, she ran her hands along his torso, exploring his chest and abdomen. She discovered that when she skimmed the skin just above his waistline, he inhaled sharply and hardened beneath her. Nibbling on his earlobe and letting her tongue explore his ear drew another groan from him, and she felt the same pride she had felt earlier, when she realized she had the same effect on him that he had on her. She became frustrated that she couldn't feel him against her skin, but shyness prevented her from simply pulling her shirt over her head and holding him to her breasts as she wanted.
Instead, she stroked his arms and explored his face with her lips, little butterfly kisses over his forehead, across his closed eyes, feeling him flutter his lashes deliberately, as if to tickle her, and she giggled breathlessly. He opened his eyes and a smile quirked one side of his mouth. Seeing that smile focused her attention back on his full, soft lips, and she pulled herself to him. For the first time, she was the aggressor, opening her mouth and letting her tongue seek out his. Her hands dove into his dark hair and found it wonderfully soft, still wet enough from the rain that it clung to her fingers. He rubbed his head against her touch, clearly enjoying everything she did to him.
The combination of his obvious pleasure and her own desire emboldened her. She shifted her position, straddling his hips but not resting her weight on him before returning her mouth to his for a deep kiss. Eventually, she pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing against his as she did, and she murmured, "Take off my shirt."
The Petals Open
Seth was determined to stand by his decision to let her lead, even though he was starting to wonder if he would pass out from unfulfilled desire, especially once she took him at his word and did as she pleased with him. Her mouth was so hot, and her bottom shifting against his cock as her attention wandered to different places on his body was a sweet torture. His patience was rewarded when she spoke, letting him know that she was ready to move forward.
He looked into her eyes briefly, then found the hem of her shirt and tugged it off. He dropped it to the floor and drank in the sight of her breasts, cupped in a cream satin bra. A blush spread over her cheeks and throat, down to the edge of the bra, but it was only partially shyness. Before she let herself think about it, she took his hands and pulled them to her, holding them against her breasts. They felt so warm, and the pressure felt so good against her nipples, even through the bra. Holding his hands still, she moved her torso so that she rubbed against him, discovering that she loved the friction.
"Esme, you feel incredible." His husky words were flattering and arousing. She'd never thought of herself as more than passable, maybe a little pretty, but his response to her made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
As she released his hands, Seth cupped her breasts, feeling their softness and weight. He could see the nipples standing out against the fabric of her bra, and he slowly lowered his head, brushing his lips over one. When she didn't object, he drew it into his mouth, suckling her gently. After a minute, he released her and saw the wet satin clinging to her shape. He blew on it, making the nipple stand higher. Esme moaned softly and pulled his head to her other breast. He repeated his actions until the second breast was equally aroused, and she wondered if spontaneous combustion was possible.
He wanted...no, needed...to touch her skin without the barrier. Almost involuntarily, his hands went to the clasp at her back. He paused, giving her a chance to protest. When she nodded, he sighed in relief and swiftly removed the bra. He sat back and at first did nothing but look and admire. Her breasts were full, soft, and warm, cream topped with pink tips that were still hard from his earlier loving.
After a minute, he moved his gaze to her face. Smiling, he placed his arms around her back and pulled her to him, letting their bare torsos touch for the first time. Without the barrier of shirt and bra, her breasts melted into him while her nipples poked against his chest, seeking more attention.
Esme felt on fire. The combination of his warm chest against her front and the heat of his large hands on her back made her think she'd never be cold again. She realized she was panting, and she let her forehead rest against his as she paused to catch her breath. Her arms came to rest on his shoulders, and she idly played with his hair. His hands shifted to hold her still as he rubbed his chest against her, copying with his chest the move she had made earlier with his hands. Her head fell back and she whimpered. Without thinking, she mimicked his motions, increasing the friction. His husky, "Oh, yeah, so good," let her know he liked her action.
She couldn't wait anymore. Moving her hands from his shoulders to his head, she pulled him where she'd wanted him for so long. Only a tug was necessary, for as soon as he realized her intent, his mouth began to skim her breasts. At first, he simply brushed across the tops. Teasing a little more, he brought his hands to her, cupping and kneading her flesh without touching her nipples. After several minutes, she squirmed, thinking she'd explode. "Please," she murmured.
He obeyed immediately, closing his mouth around one pink bud while his hand caressed the other, rolling and pinching it between his fingers. He didn't think he'd ever been more aroused, and with another woman, he would have already removed the rest of her clothing and been inside her. Esme, though, needed patience and care, and he was finding it incredibly pleasurable to give them to her. Every touch, every plea, every demand made him both proud and humbled that she wanted him so much.
He toyed with her nipples, alternating between them and sucking strongly, licking delicately, rubbing them with his tongue until she moaned wordlessly and began to grind her sex into him. Involuntarily, his hips moved in counterpoint, increasing the pressure. Her hips moved more quickly, and his hands fell from her back to her ass, holding her against him as they moved together. Their breathing was loud in the quiet room, and he had never wanted anyone so much in his life.
For the first time, he moved without seeking reassurance from her. His hand moved to the snap of her jeans, and he flicked it open. He had started to pull on the zipper when her hand stopped his. He ceased his movements immediately and looked up to see a sultry expression on her face.
"Let me," she said. She stood up and tugged the zipper the rest of the way down. She shimmied her hips in a move that would have made his eyes roll back if he could have brought himself to miss even a second of this, and the jeans fell to the floor. She stood before him in nothing but cream satin panties that matched the bra now lying on the floor. Her breasts rose and fell with her quickened breathing, and her face and torso were flushed in a way that highlighted the beauty of her skin. His eyes moved over her from head to toe, drinking her in.
Astonished that she didn't feel more self-conscious about his unabashed stare, she stood and let him look before he placed his hands on the small of her back and drew her to him. He rested his cheek on her abdomen, and she felt his hair brush the underside of her breasts. She caught her breath at the tantalizing sensation. He stroked his face across her belly, letting his tongue sneak out and taste as he did. The contrast of the rough stubble on his jaw and the soft wetness of his tongue was devastating; she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand.
His hands dipped to her bottom, holding her cheeks firmly through the satin. His chin dipped, pulling the front edge of her panties down ever so slightly. He placed a damp kiss on the skin he had revealed and then looked up at her through half-closed eyes. She thought how lush his lashes were, one small part of his perfection. His eyes were so dark and hot—for her!—and she wanted nothing but to explore these feelings with him. His fingers slipped under the edge of the panties and drew them down her legs. She placed a hand on his shoulder for balance and stepped out of them.
This time, he didn't stop to feast his eyes before pulling her to him—he needed more substance. His hands cupped her ass without any fabric to inhibit the feel of her soft skin. A tuft of light brown hair at the apex of her legs drew his gaze and then his lips. She cried out as he bestowed a kiss where no one ever had. She had read about it, seen a few videos, even written about it, but she soon realized that it had to be experienced to really understand the feelings. The kisses were so unselfish, so giving, and the pleasure as his tongue made a quick foray to lick her clit was overpowering.
She stumbled, and he pulled her back down to his lap, cradling her shoulders in one arm while his other curved over her legs. He kissed her lips lightly, then passionately, his tongue mating with hers. His arm moved so that he could indulge in long, firm strokes up and down her legs. The strokes became slower and the focus began to narrow. He slipped his fingers between her knees and tickled behind them. She giggled, and her legs opened as she shifted to escape. He was quick to take advantage, moving his hand between her thighs and stroking the inner contours softly but firmly.
Any hint of trepidation was drowned in pleasure, and she opened herself fully to his touch. He took immediate advantage, running his fingers over every bit of sensitive flesh. He circled her opening, gathering the moisture there on his fingertips, and then lightly rubbed her clit. He murmured, "Show me," urging her to teach him how she preferred to be touched. She couldn't move at first, utterly shocked to be asked. Taking her hand in his, he brought them both back to her and renewed the arousing touch, sending streaks of pleasure through her limbs. With his encouragement, together they explored the motions that drew whimpers from her lips—barely-there circles, long firm strokes, and when he combined them with a finger sinking into her, she cried out at the intense feeling. He continued the movement, adding another finger, stroking deeper each time. Within moments, she felt she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Another touch of his thumb and thrust of his fingers and she flew over the edge, spinning and falling.
She arrived at a soft landing in his arms. Opening her eyes to his loving look, she pulled him to her for a deep, grateful kiss. She stood, took his hands, and tugged him to his feet. Her hands then went to his jeans, and she pulled open the first button, followed by the rest in quick succession. She pushed the denim down over his hips and took his boxer briefs with them. She then took a half-step back, giving him room to step out of the clothes and herself space to admire his beautiful form. She had always found him wonderful to look at, but now...nude...he was magnificent.
Full Bloom
Her hand reached out to touch him, curling around his length and stroking it. It was so warm, and she was amazed at how soft his skin was there. She was consumed by the need to make him feel as good as he had made her feel, and moving too quickly for fear or nervousness to take hold, she sat on the edge of the sofa and brought him to her mouth. Kissing the tip, she let her tongue dart out to taste and then linger, swirling around him.
He groaned and his head fell back. He wanted her to stay exactly where she was for, oh, about a week. She didn't seem very experienced, but her enthusiasm could not be denied. He encouraged her with his words and his hands, holding her gently and showing her how to move. He hadn't expected her to want to go down on him at all, and for her to spontaneously give him this pleasure touched him deeply and intensified his response. After a few minutes, though, he stopped her, needing to be inside her.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans, glad he had gone with the impulse to grab a few condoms before he left home that morning even though, at the time, he'd thought it was just wishful thinking. Laying the foil packet at the end of the sofa, he moved to sit beside her, circling her shoulders with one arm and bringing up his other hand to touch her face and turn her to him. He lightly brushed his lips over her eyelids, cheeks, nose, until he placed a small kiss at the corner of her mouth. At that point, she reached for him with both hands, pulling his mouth to hers for a hot, deep, wet, kiss.
Without breaking contact, she moved to straddle his hips, but this time she didn't hesitate as they touched intimately, grinding against him with a circular motion of her pelvis. They both groaned at the sensation. She sacrificed the kiss to reach for the condom, unwilling to wait any longer for the culmination of this rapture. A frustrated sound escaped her as she realized it lay just beyond her fingertips. Seth felt a flash of amusement at how cute the noise was, but he shared her frustration and immediately leaned over to get the packet, ripping it open in the same swift movement. Taking it from him, she rolled it on and stroked him.
He groaned and thrust his hips against her. He moved one hand between her legs and stroked her until she moved in time with him, needing more. He placed himself at her entrance, coating his head with the liquid evidence of her arousal, then slid forward. She gasped and he repeated the motion a few times. Unable to wait any longer, he started to penetrate, pulling her hips down to him. She was tight, and his suspicion was confirmed that she'd engaged in little or no sexual activity since her husband's death. He lifted her and took it slow: a few inches, then retreat, another inch, then retreat, until he was fully inside her. The feel of her surrounding him was matchless.
Esme was still for a moment, adjusting to the indescribable sensation of him inside her, filling her. An initial discomfort had eased almost immediately, and she was so aroused that he eventually slid into her easily. Soon, though, an urge to move overtook her, and she circled her hips, whimpering when her clit rubbed against his pubic bone. Experimenting, she alternated between moving her hips back and forth and circling them against him; with his help, she lifted up until he was barely within her, then dropped quickly down, sheathing him fully again. She cried out, feeling another orgasm start to build. They repeated the movement, faster each time. The speed with which he filled her and the sensation as he hit her inner walls with each stroke sent her back up the cliff, knowing the fall would be even more intense this time. She opened her eyes to see him watching her breasts sway with their thrusts, and a flash of that pride in her effect on him returned for a moment before being washed away by the need to go faster, harder. She gripped his shoulders, unconsciously digging her nails into them as she climbed...that..last...inch...
And fell, floating in bliss. Within seconds, he followed, and they collapsed, her torso and limbs draped over his body as he lay back against the sofa. Her head found a resting place in the curve where his neck met his shoulder. One of his hands was buried in her hair and the other lay just below her waist, at the beginning swell of her ass. They were silent as their breathing returned to normal.
With a quick but gentle motion, he lifted her off him and went to dispose of the condom. He returned in less than a minute, lying beside her so she could curl into him, his arm around her shoulders and her hand upon his chest, their legs intertwined. The enormous sense of satisfaction that filled him made him lethargic, but he hadn't wanted to mess up her couch. Now they could relax, holding each other.
The rain had stopped, and the sun appeared to wash the house in golden late-afternoon sunlight. As the slant of it shifted even lower, Esme stirred. She lifted her torso enough to see his face. "Are you staying for dinner? You're welcome to join me."
His smile was sweet as he said simply, "I'd like that."
Summer in the Garden
The rest of the summer was a revelation to Esme and Seth.
Esme explored her sexual being, learning more about herself than she ever could by writing out fantasies or going online. Seth was the perfect partner in this journey. His genuine appreciation of her raised her self-esteem, and he had an intuitive ability to sense when he could safely encourage her to push her comfort level and when he needed to slow down. The sexual chemistry kept their physical relationship intense and quick to ignite.
For his part, Seth discovered that he had untapped emotional depths. Carelessness was not in his nature, and he had never had sex with someone just to get off, without at least liking his partner. Esme had been right that first day—a sweetness, a kindness, was as much a part of him as his eye color or smile. But he'd never had a serious emotional relationship either. By example, Esme showed him how to care for another person, and it added a dimension to their physical connection that he knew he would look for in the future.
One morning in August, he arrived at Esme's house to check on the garden. She'd been gone for seven days and still had two days on the road. The summer was passing swiftly; he had only two weeks before it would be time for him to head to graduate school. Although they hadn't talked about it, he knew that what they had shared this summer would end then. He accepted it, but a part of him wished for summer to linger a little longer, or at least for her to return a little sooner.
He wandered the garden, doing a little work here and there as his eye caught something that needed attention. After an hour or so, he was in Esme's rose garden, pruning some of the larger bushes. Several of the stems had lovely blooms, but they stuck out so much from the rest of the bush that they needed to go. Struck by a thought, he filled a bucket with water and put the flowered stems in it. By adding some cut flower food, they should still look nice when Esme returned. Cheered by the thought, he continued working.
His efforts were interrupted when an unfamiliar car pulled up the driveway. Thinking it must be someone who was lost, Seth straightened and approached. To his pleased surprise, Esme stepped out of the car, a wide smile on her face. He broke into a run, picking her up and spinning around before returning her to her feet. Her arms circled his shoulders and she stood on her toes to kiss him.
"I thought you'd be another couple of days! What happened?" he asked. They separated, and he took her suitcase from what he now assumed was a rental car and followed her into the house.
"Thunderstorms in the mid-west. A ton of flights were canceled. Luckily for me, it wasn't looking to improve, so I got to come home early. I suppose I'll have a make-up engagement in a few weeks." She turned to look at him, her eyes traveling over his body. A rush of affection filled her. "Oh, I missed you! It's so good to be home." Taking his hand, she squeezed it for a moment. Then, after telling him to drop her suitcase in the hall, she tugged him along with her.
They went out the back door and meandered through the garden hand in hand, Seth pointing out what he'd finished and what still needed work. She offered to change so they could do it together, but she was wearing the sleeveless dress she had worn the first time he had come to see her off and he begged her to keep it on. A little bewildered but willing to humor him, she agreed.
They came to a stop at the rose garden. She saw the bucket with a handful of roses and looked at him in surprise.
"I was pruning, and I thought you'd like these. It's like you were meant to come home early—they're still fresh." She smiled a bit mistily and thanked him.
He pulled her into his arms. "No," he whispered, "thank you. This summer with you has been amazing. You are an incredible person, and I'm so glad we've been together this way." He looked into her eyes intently. "I'm proud you chose me to share this time with you." He hadn't meant to speak so seriously, but that was one of the things she had taught him—an ease with sharing emotions.
Her eyes welled with tears at his words. "That works both ways, Seth. You are a wonderful man who could have any girl in town. I can't believe you chose to spend all your spare time with me, and I can't tell you how much it means to me, how much more self-confidence I have because you've shown me how beautiful I am to you, inside and out." She held him close and buried her face in his chest.
They stood quietly, arms around each other, but within a few minutes the spark that was never far when they were together ignited. She lifted her head for his passionate kisses and quickly pulled his t-shirt—unnecessary anyway in her opinion—over his head. Taking advantage of the newly-revealed flesh, she kissed, licked and nibbled her way across his chest, paying particular attention to his nipples. Her hands tugged at the fastening of his cutoffs, and they swiftly followed his shirt to the ground. Pleased to find that he had foregone underwear that morning, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth. Relying on the knowledge she had gained with him, she used her tongue and teeth to maximum effect, bringing him to a quick release.
Groaning, he pulled her to her feet and pushed the dress's V-neck aside enough to give his lips and tongue access to her breasts. Frustrated by the restriction, he tugged the dress over her head and pulled her panties down. Sweeping her off her feet, he laid her down on a patch of soft moss under a giant fir tree. He nuzzled her breasts, sucking her nipples until they stood high. Satisfied with his success there, he proceeded lower, devoting himself to her pussy with lips and tongue and fingers. Only when she screamed as she came did he cease his attentions and rest his head on her belly.
They recovered quickly, and her hand sneaked down to find him already hard again. Looking up into the branches over their heads, she softly asked, "You know something I've wanted to try?"
He raised his head, his lips quirking in amusement. "No, what?"
Giggling, she tugged him to his feet and went to the tree's trunk. She leaned against the tree and pulled him to her. "Take me here, against the tree. Hard."
His eyebrow rose, teasing her, but he obligingly lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He spared a moment to be grateful that, a few weeks after their first time, they had been able to dispense with condoms; Esme had taken precautions against pregnancy, and while disease was unlikely, they'd been tested to be sure.
Esme reached down to guide him into her, and as requested, he thrust—hard. She gasped and her head fell back against the tree. He stroked hard and fast, until after a few minutes she stopped him. Sheepishly, she said, "I don't think this is going to work. It seemed so hot, but the bark is digging into my back." He laughed and let her legs drop to the ground.
"Well then, let's try my idea." He pushed her gently down to the moss, nudging her until she rested on her knees and elbows. Kneeling behind her, he ran his hands over her ass before thrusting two fingers into her pussy. She choked out a cry as he continued the motion, saying "You have the most perfect ass, Esme. I noticed it the first time I saw you wearing that dress." He bent down and dropped a kiss on each cheek and then guided himself into her. Holding her hips, he pulled her back against him sharply. Curving his back over hers, he whispered in her ear, "I can give you hard like this." And he did, with piston-like thrusts that sent him deeper than he'd ever gone, hitting a spot inside that seemed to set fire to her. As she grew close to her climax, he moved one hand around and rubbed her clit, the movement enough to send her over. He continued to stroke through her orgasm, until with one final push, he came with a muffled groan.
They spooned together there on the ground, Seth's arms cradling her close to him. All too soon, in a sign of the approaching fall, the sun began to sink and the warmth of the day faded. They stood, gathered their clothes, and went inside.
Colorful Leaves
A few weeks later, Seth left for graduate school. Despite knowing the day would come, Esme could not help but cry a little, and Seth had to swallow a lump in his throat more than once.
"You've got my email and phone number. I want to hear how you're doing. Maybe when I'm home on break, we could get together." Their arms were loosely wrapped around each other, her head resting on his chest and his face buried in her hair.
She nodded and sniffed, and her hold tightened. "You stay in touch, too," she said in a voice made husky by tears. "I know you're going to do so well—" Her voice broke, and she took a few deep breaths. She raised her head to look at him. "You are so special to me. I can't even tell you what a difference you've made in my life." Framing his face with her hands, she pulled him down to her for a tender, heartfelt kiss.
He returned the gentle pressure. When they broke apart, he swallowed hard and held both her hands in his. "You—" his hands raised hers to his lips— "are the most wonderful woman I've ever known. Don't you ever forget that." He forced a smirk. "Anybody treats you badly, you just kick 'em to the curb and call me, you got that?"
She gave a watery chuckle. "Got it." Now that she knew what it was like to be cherished, she would settle for nothing less. She squeezed his fingers and smiled.
He got into his truck and drove down her driveway for what might be the last time. Early the next morning, he left for school. As he drove, Seth was torn between not wanting to let the time with Esme end and thinking about what lay ahead. He wondered if he'd meet someone at school, and if it would be as special as the summer with Esme. He suspected that he'd changed enough that he would want a deeper relationship than he'd had before he met her. He was sorry to see the summer end and knew that he'd miss Esme terribly, but he couldn't deny that he also found himself curious about what might be in store for him now.
Standing in the driveway as he left, Esme recalled certain moments they had shared. Smiling at some, catching her breath at others, she made a mental scrapbook of their time together. She couldn't for the life of her have explained why, but she knew that, somehow, she and Seth had been brought together for this summer together, to learn from and teach each other, leaving both of them better for the experience. She didn't know if fate would bring her and Seth together again, but she had the gifts he had given to her and the satisfaction that she had been equally generous. Regardless of whether and how their paths crossed again, she would treasure every moment they had spent together.
Late September found Esme helping Rosalie prepare for her wedding. As Rosalie's matron of honor and best friend, she had ceremonial duties and helped with the hassles inherent in a large wedding. Emmett, the groom, had a large family, and Rosalie was so happy she wanted to invite just about the whole town.
Esme didn't meet the best man until the ceremony. He'd been delayed and unable to make the rehearsal dinner; one of Emmett's brothers had stood in for him during the rehearsal. Proceeding up the aisle before Rosalie, her eyes were drawn to the tall, blond man standing beside Emmett. A ray of sunlight caught his light blue eyes so that the color was visible from yards away. She looked away quickly, focusing on the spot where she would stand, opposite from the handsome blond, but she found her gaze returning to him throughout the ceremony, particularly when the minister spoke of finding the right person at the right time.
"We meet the people in our lives when we are ready to meet them." Esme's thoughts flew to Seth and the latest news she'd heard from him, enjoying his studies and starting to date a fellow student. Yes, it had been the time for them to meet. "And we become ready through the people we've met along the way." She mused on that line. She had helped Seth to be ready for a new level of relationship. Had he done the same for her? Her eyes were drawn yet again to the best man. "And so Rosalie and Emmett met each other at the time that was right for them, forging the bond between them that we now sanctify before these witnesses." The ceremony continued with the vows, Rosalie's beautiful sincerity drawing tears from several present, including Esme.
She eventually met the fascinating best man following the ceremony when Emmett introduced them as they gathered for photos. "Esme, I'd like you to meet my best man, Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He saved my life when I was attacked by a bear, and we got to be best buds. Carlisle, this is Esme Evenson, Rose's matron of honor. They've been friends for years."
Esme looked up at the man whose gentle smile was reflected in those beautiful light blue eyes. He extended his hand and said, "Very pleased to meet you, Esme." The words were no different than anyone would say in response to such an introduction, but she nearly swooned at his voice—smooth, low, and sensual. He could read the phone book in that voice, and she'd happily listen for hours. She caught her breath at the strength of the attraction she felt. With a rush of gratitude to Seth, she realized she had the confidence to explore these feelings—something she would never have considered just six months ago. She wondered how long it would take her to get him to ask her out—or, she thought with an inner grin, she could ask him herself. Somehow, she suspected it wouldn't be too long.
She smiled warmly and let her hand linger in his. "You as well, Carlisle."
A/N: The title for this story is from the name of a peony mentioned in Le Jardin des Supplices (The Torture Garden) by Octave Mirbeau. Here's a link to a photo of it:
http:/ www. flickriver. com/ photos/ zenmasterkha/ 1312328422/ (just close spaces)
Roses are universally recognized as the flower of romance. Orange roses symbolize passion and desire, especially as found in a new, exciting relationship.
http:/ www. flowermeaning. info/ Orange. php (just close the spaces)
The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life.
~Jean Giraudoux
I know in many ways this story is a cliché. But cliches can be fun. ;) I hope you enjoyed the fluffy lemons.
Finally, I know I said it in the note at the top, but she deserves another mention: a bazillion thanks to my beta, Jennrosee, who first inspired this plot bunny, kept me going, and beta'd in record time – you rock!