January

Chapter One

Rosalie gripped the wheel of her candy red M3 like a vise, pushing it past the brink of 110mph. She tried to take deep breaths and calm herself before she bent the wheel like a twist tie—not only would that be hard to explain to her family, she would rather not harm her darling car in any way because of some stupid, insignificant child. She gritted her teeth as the image of the girl flashed through her head again.

Today had been a truly eventful day at the usually extremely boring Forks High. Although the arrival of a new student should not have been anything more than mildly interesting, it ended up shooting through the ceiling on the scale of significance when Edward was affected by her to the point of needing to escape town. I mean, honestly…did he have no measure of taste after all these years? She wasn't even that pretty.

She tilted her head tensely, her lips pressed into a tight line as she whipped around the curves of Washington State. Even tied in knots, a look of fierce frustration and anger on her face, she was still breathtakingly gorgeous. She knew she was being ridiculous. She wasn't even completely sure where all this jealousy and hostility was coming from; she was completely and honestly in love with Emmett, so it wasn't that she wanted Edward's attention for herself…she and Edward barely got along most of the time anyway so it wasn't like she was heartbroken that he wouldn't shower love on her or something ridiculous like that. She felt a grimace wrinkle her face just at the thought.

The only think she could figure is that it was territorial. It was the last nail in the coffin—no pun intended--to confirm that Edward really wasn't infatuated with her the way he really should be. Even Carlisle was sure that she would be perfect for him, and he was just never completely attached. They had given it a very sincere and passionate try for quite a few years. It certainly passed the time…but neither of them was overly emotionally invested in the match. As soon as she found Emmett on the mountain, it was like any other feeling she had ever felt for any other man was completely wiped from her memory…but she always just assumed that she had left Edward feeling empty. Apparently not.

She decided she had given into her childish temper tantrum long enough and pulled her convertible around in a graceful, but mind-blowingly fast u-turn. As she began the crawl back to the Cullen mansion at the outer edges of Forks, she let her mind travel back to all those years before when she and Edward were Carlisle's only "children".

At first she was like a wounded animal. It took a while to come to terms with the recent events of her past sufficiently enough to make any new emotional bonds with her adoptive family. Her heart, although halted and frozen, was torn apart for a while after the transformation. She was thankful when the memories from her human life began to dull a bit into the background, being overshadowed by the new, overwhelming hunger and the wide expanse of time she had ahead of her. Plenty of time to forget.

When she began to come out of her shell, Edward was there. She was mildly aware of Carlisle's wishes that a relationship would form. He wanted for her and Edward what he and his wife Esme had. He had transformed Edward many years before herself and loved him very much—enough to want to see the end of his loneliness.

It started with endless nights of conversation. They didn't really have much in common, but they found enough to talk about. She figured he was probably fascinated with the endless well of vanity and superficiality she seemed to possess on the outside. He also knew on the inside, she ran much deeper than the façade she kept constantly in place on the outside.

Eventually the platonic conversational relationship progressed further. One night they were in his room, as usual, talking about everything and nothing. They were both on the floor on a thick, black plush rug he had accented his room with. He was leaning back against his overstuffed leather couch, and she had her head in his lap, her long legs crossed at the ankles. On impulse, she took matters into her own hands.

He had been talking about some book he had read recently. As usual she had lost interest as soon as he started regaling her with details that the author had included and what he felt they meant, symbolically. She was distracted, conflicted about whether or not she really wanted to do what she was considering doing. She had been considering an impulse to take their relationship to the next level for weeks now, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to open herself up that way. She had been translating Vogue Magazine in French to avoid having him realize her indecision. She was sure he had picked up on the tension even without reading her thoughts.

Sick of her own fickle thoughts, she finally decided to just act spontaneously. She was straddling his lap in a flash, before he even realized she had made the decision. He looked up at her with amber eyes, widened with surprise and curiosity.

"Rose?" he questioned in his soft, velvet voice.

"Shut up, Edward."

With that her mouth was on his, her lips parting and moving against his hotly. Her hands were gripping his perfectly muscled shoulders, running through his hair, clutching at the strands wantonly. She didn't want to think anymore. She just wanted to feel.

She was pressing herself against him, moving against him in ways she had never done with anyone before. She and Royce had never gotten this far—at least not consensually, but strangely, she didn't feel unsure or inexperienced at all. As he ran his hands up her sides, cupping her breasts, running his thumbs over her already aroused nipples, she let out a low moan, encouraging him.

She needed her hands on him. She didn't really care about being patient, slow, or careful. She ripped his shirt in her haste and brought her lips down to his collarbone, sucking on the marble skin she found there. Now it was the growl tearing from his throat driving her crazy. She scraped her fingernails down his back and wrapped her legs around his waist tightly. He sat upright, pulling her shirt over her head and went to work ravaging her neck with his lips. Her head rolled to the side in bliss.

His hands ran up her back and deftly freed her from her lacy black bra. He threw it across the room and looked up at her with an indulgent smirk on his face. He looked absolutely gorgeous. He took her breath away. Then he took her nipple in his mouth and wiped every coherent thought from her brain. Pure fire licked across her skin as she gripped his shoulders even harder and bucked against him.

"Edward," she gasped huskily, "I need you now."

He met her eyes, now a deep shade of ochre, and growled gloriously. He flipped her over on her back in an instant, ripping the casual brown trousers she was wearing off without a thought. He took a moment to consider the black panties she was wearing, which matched the bra he had previously discarded. He grinned mischievously and changed his plan of attack. First, he kissed her mouth in a slow, painfully passionate kiss that had her bones melting and a whimper slipping out of her lips. Then he was trailing soft, torturous kisses down her neck, across her chest, her torso…until he reached the waistband of her panties again. He took them in his teeth, meeting her eyes once again with that same glint in his eyes—this time with an added shade of pure lust, and ripped them off.

She let out a cry of surprise and desire. Grabbing his shoulders, she tried to pull him back up to her, wanting him inside of her immediately. It seemed he had pushed himself to the limit as well because he granted her wish without a fight. He took a moment to rip his own trousers off and then poised himself above her, his eyes capturing hers intensely.

She couldn't breathe or think. All she wanted was him. She wanted that moment of bliss and this anticipation to reach its conclusion in that one glorious movement. She met his gaze, locking her hands around his neck to bring him closer. She crashed her lips against his in an impossibly passionate kiss. He entered her, sliding all the way home in one stroke. She gasped, not in pain, but in absolute pleasure. She threw her head back, basking in the feel of him. His mouth was everywhere. Her hands gripped his back again, trying to keep a hold on her sanity—which she already knew was a completely impossible endeavor. When his teeth bit down lightly on her neck, it was enough to send her over the edge. She exploded in pleasure, her eyes flying open as she pulsed around him. He growled again and doubled his speed as he thrust into her. He found his own release, burying his face in her hair as he shook with bliss.

He lowered himself back to the floor, wrapping his arms around her and turning them both so she lay on top of him. His breathing slowed, a look of utter contentedness on his face. She scattered kisses along his jaw and then rested her head beneath his chin, feeling smug.

It continued like that for years after. They savored each other and found enjoyment and comfort in their torrid affair. Until that fateful day that she found Emmett. The love she felt for this man that she had never even spoken to crashed into her unexpectedly. She had no choice but to just ride it out and enjoy the fact that she had finally found someone to fill the emptiness in her heart. Edward had helped, to a degree, to patch the wound; she had a connection with him that was different from any other that she had found with another person…but there was still something missing. Something had never quite ignited.

That in mind, nothing that had ever passed between them had been enough to send him out of the state, and a part of her resented that. She was probably about as gorgeous as you could possibly get and it took this stupid teenager to send him to a furious edge of sanity? The memories of their intimacy had just darkened her mood even further. Why did she do that to herself?

Virulent thoughts continued to play through her mind until she pulled into the driveway of their home. She noted that Edward's car was still absent; or she should say Carlisle's car which Edward had taken. She wondered if he would ever come back. It shouldn't matter, she reminded herself. She had Emmett. She would get over this.

She gracefully stepped out of the convertible and slammed the door behind her. She strode up the path to the front door, slamming that behind her as well once inside. Her family was in the large family room and watched her enter. She barely gave them a passing glance before storming up the stairs and into the bedroom she and Emmett shared…of course slamming their door as well. There was something so rewarding about making a lot of noise when she was angry. Temper tantrums really were underrated.

She took the regal seat in front of the huge fireplace that dominated one of the entire walls of the bedroom. She was brooding, but she didn't care. She needed to indulge herself.

She certainly had some choice words for Edward Anthony Masen Cullen when he finally decided to grace them with his presence again.