Usually, it wasn't noticeable. They knew of my gift, and knew also that I didn't want to know what happened behind their closed doors. Because they knew this, they'd wait until I went out, or they, themselves, would leave the house. Sometimes, however, they'd slip. I understood. Sometimes passions got carried away. But never, ever, had they all gotten carried away at the same time.

In my room I switched the CD currently playing (Stravinsky) for something else. The throbbing bass of Metallica thumped the walls and floor, but didn't drown out what my gift, usually so helpful, now showed me. And it proved to me how wrapped up in their own worlds that they were when the music change did not affect them at all. It was like they didn't hear it.

I was bombarded by differing visions, multiple voices. Usually their minds were easy to drone out. But when they were…intimate…their thoughts were so explosive and their minds so focused on what they felt, that I heard and saw everything. I saw my family in ways that I had wished never to see.

Alice firmly wrapped around Jasper on the floor of their bedroom.

Emmitt chained to the titanium bars of his and Rosalie's headboard as she rode him.

Esme and Carlisle bent over his desk in his office.

But just as disturbing as the visions, were the thoughts from my brothers and sisters, my mother and father, as they committed these acts.

…so good…

…harder…

…oh, fuck…

…so sweet…

…my love…

…beautiful…

…tight…

…hard…

…wet…

…faster…

…harder…

…NOW…

I tried, I really did, to focus on the Egyptian texts before me. My gift cannot be helped. But then, with those thoughts and images, I couldn't stop feeling a little resentful. They had their mates, their loves, and I was alone. The perpetual seventeen year-old virgin.

I had needs, desires. I wanted what they, my family, were currently experiencing: I wanted to share my passion with another.

…PLEASE!...

I needed to leave, but I didn't really want to pass their doors. Most likely, they hadn't realized I was home and I didn't want to inform them. However, they might be so wrapped up in themselves that they wouldn't hear me…

Even the loud heavy metal rock didn't hide the tearing clang of Emmitt ripping off the top of the headboard to try and free his hands.

..."Silly boy," Rosalie purred. "You need only ask."

"Please Rose," Emmett begged. "Please let me touch you."

Deftly, she ripped the chains from his wrists and no sooner was he free before he flipped them over and took her at a frenzied rhythm, her throaty laughter in the air…

I winced away from the sight, cursing them both mentally. I could jump out the window. The three floor drop was nothing. But the windows didn't open; they were just glass walls looking out over the backyard.

…deeper, please…

I could break through though, I suppose. But then Esme would wonder why I'd jumped out of a window.

…Jazz and Alice moved together on their white rug fluidly, all sinuous sliding and graceful caresses. Their mouths ghosted over each other's shoulders and necks, coming together firmly before traveling on. Wordlessly Jazz picked up his pace.

"Yes," Alice gasped. "Yes, my love…"

But then again, Esme might understand. She understood everything. Plus, she was always a little contrite after moments like these were she and Carlisle would slip. If she could still blush, I bet that she would.

…Carlisle touched Esme with practiced ease. His arms wrapped around her front and his long fingers trailed across her breasts, pinching and tweaking, causing her to groan, before one hand slipped between her thighs where he continued to thrust evenly. She fell forward, pressing her front to his desk. His free hand trailed over her pale back.

"Good?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Oh yes," she breathed…

It was bad enough that he they were having sex. But they were so…enthralled with each other. They were all so in love. I could see it, I could hear it, but I wanted to feel it. I wanted it for myself, never so much as I did at these kinds of moments.

…so close…

…I'm almost…

…I can feel it…

…Yes...

…God...

…FUCK!...

I rolled my eyes. Couldn't they think of something more original at climax? But then everything was blissfully quiet in my brain because of their post-orgasmic high. I turned off the Metallica and put the Stravinsky back on.

…Sorry Edward…

…We didn't mean…

…I thought you were out hunting!

Emmett's petulant comment made me smirk. They weren't embarrassed, and neither was I. We were well beyond that by now. They felt bad that I didn't have a companion of my own. Well, I thought with a snort, so did I.

With all the unfortunate distractions ended, I turned back to my Egyptian texts. I could drone out their normal, less intense, thoughts. But the texts, so fascinating twenty minutes ago, no longer held my attention.

Visions of the last fifteen minutes filtered through my mind.

Yes, I did indeed wish for my own love.