Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Summary: Alice has some fun with the pastor's daughter at church.

Rating: M for language, femmeslash, and Bible bashing.

WARNING: This story expresses negative views about God, religion, and the Bible. I do not recommend this to those who are sensitive about such topics.

Shout out to my beta and bestie best friend, Severus-Toujours, for catching tricky errors and writing a fabulous critique.

"Holy Rosalie begins with a great punch in the face challenging the norm and speaking frankly about touchy subjects. The punches keep rolling from start to finish with perfectly placed wise cracks on churchgoers, conniving horny teens and hilarious family dynamics. iphooqui is one to watch—fans will be screaming for more…pun intended." –Severus-Toujours

ALICE

Why can't somebody do a person a favor without expecting one in return? It is truly not a favor then if you ask me. Also if said favor was not requested by the receiving party but was instead a result of a pure act of kindness and altruism by the suppliers, then they really have no business anticipating any form of reciprocity. Yes, I know it would be the humane thing to do and I am not saying I wouldn't, but goddamn it, why did it have to be the Hales that pulled over to lend a hand when my alternator decided to eat shit and die on my way home? Out of all the people in this town, it just had to be the notorious Pastor Hale and his too-damn-friendly family. I have only interacted with them maybe three or four times, but my mom is good friends with the pastor and his wife, given that she attends their bloody services every Sunday. She also volunteers and does some charity work with them during her spare time.

To hell with that—pun intended.

My twin brother Emmett and I were never taught about the Bible and never stepped foot into a church when we were kids. Both of our parents grew up as Christians and did the whole Sunday school, Bible study, spiritual retreats and the works until they moved far, far away from home and said fuck it all. So, naturally, they avoided it like the plague when it came to their own kids. I did not even know who God was until sometime late in elementary school. My best friend at the time was absolutely thunderstruck when I asked who that was, and began regurgitating all of this information about him and the Bible that even at age eight sounded like total foolishness.

I have been incredibly skeptical of the irrational stories in the Bible and the fairytale garbage that surrounds the world of religion ever since. I do not buy that some insignificant human being split up the Red Sea with his bare hand under the instruction of some powerful spirit in the sky that no one has ever seen or that snakes were once capable of articulating full sentences or that a certain woman could spontaneously and independently procreate. Shit like that does not happen. Have someone split the Red Sea today and show me a talking snake and a true pregnant virgin that did not undergo some sort of artificial fertilization and maybe I'll start to believe it.

And I do not care what fantasy justification his followers come up with, but there is no way in hell that an omnibenevolent and omnipotent mysterious presence exists high above us when this world is so appallingly fucked up.

I do not blame anyone for my personal beliefs, but had I been introduced to this mystical and illogical bullshit when I was young and gullible, perhaps I'd feel differently about it today. The only reason I can imagine Mom doing this church shit now after so long is because Daddy walked in on her groping and making out with my best friend Bella's mom in our pool and out of utter fear of being sent to the fiery pits of hell, she turned to the big white castle-like building to refine her relationship with the Lord.

Truth be told, I don't even think Daddy cared. Like any decent member of the male species, I am almost convinced he was turned on and wanted nothing more than to join them both.

Pardon my rant, but this brings me back to the Hale family. From what I've taken in, they seem like a pleasant group of people. But knowing that their entire existence surrounds and encourages every single idea I'm strongly opposed to, I think it best to keep a sizeable distance.

That explains why I was a little disturbed and offended when Pastor Hale and his wife kindly invited me to join them and my mom at their church the following Sunday after they had generously purchased a brand spanking new alternator for my car. I knew this was their way of requesting a returned favor in the form of providing publicity. Fine if they thought I was going to promote their little cult, but in reality I would not have recommended this lifestyle to my worst enemy. I don't see how they did not get the hint the last few times they so casually suggested to my mother that she bring Emmett, Daddy and me along within earshot of us all and neither of us have yet to accompany her.

Although I'd have rather cleaned up elephant shit at the local zoo on Sunday than be in a room surrounded by the naïve and hypocritical, I was only partially curious about Pastor Hale's two kids, Edward and Rosalie. They were also twins about a month or two younger than Emmett and me. I hardly spoke two words to them all four times that we've seen each other and that left me only a little intrigued. They were both home schooled and incredibly reserved, especially the boy Edward. He was actually somewhat cute, but strange. He acknowledged and greeted me when fitting, but afterward he would retreat behind his parents and just stand there straight-faced with his hands behind his back. I almost felt bad for the kid. I assume the only female interaction he was allowed outside of home was with a bunch of conservative girls from church who were also home schooled and taught that boys and girls should not play together. I hope when he turns eighteen he runs far, far away like my parents did.

Away from Jesus. They have got just a few months to go.

Now the sister Rosalie was a little something exquisite. If her parents allowed it, there was no doubt in my mind that she would be all over billboards, magazine covers, and runways. Everything about her gorgeous soft face drew me in, especially those big blue eyes and plump pink lips. Even under those horrendous church clothes I could see there hid a goddess-like Amazonian figure. No loose fabric could hide those perfectly round melons or the pleasant curve of her backside. I even caught Emmett straining his eyes as he checked her out once, most likely trying to imagine her clad in nothing but her panties.

She was a little sweeter and more approachable than her brother, but still restrained herself from any excess conversation. I always remember the small and coy grin she'd supply me with every time I realized she had caught me gawking at her. That grin brought about an itching in certain happy places and I wondered whether or not she knew precisely why I was staring so hard. Hell, probably not. Chances were she was brainwashed with that biblical bullshit and more likely than not had all the recognizable sins committed to memory. She was simply demonstrating her cultured etiquette and displaying the flawless and well-ripened fruits of Mr. and Mrs. Hale's labor.

Whatever. That did not make her any less hot.

Supposing I would have the opportunity to exchange a few words with Ms. Rosalie beyond common greetings made me less reluctant to get out of bed the following Sunday to get ready for that morning's dreadful services. Actually I was vaguely looking forward to hearing live bullshit from the Bible so I could snort or silently make a case against it. For just two seconds I mulled over the possibility of those magical and benign spirits sensing a crafty and doubtful suspect in God's house. That would be interesting.

True to form, my dickhead brother Emmett was in pure hysterics as soon as I entered the kitchen in that yellow sundress Grandma brought me when she came to visit earlier this spring. The dress was cute, but strapless and above the knees was more my style and this was far from it. I suppose that was the reason I was wearing it to church.

"Shut the fuck up, fart breath," using a plastic spoon, I flung a lump of butter towards his oversized head. Naturally, I missed.

"Alice, it is too early for this," Mom cautioned from the sink. "Did nobody tell you, son? You are coming with us."

Now it was my turn to make fun, especially after catching sight of that uproarious expression he aimed at Mom.

"What! But Mama, I—"

"Ah, AH! You are going! Just this once. If you do not like it you are free to do without just as you always have. Both of you are. Now finish your breakfast and get ready. We are leaving in twenty minutes," Mom really wasn't bullshitting.

"Ha, ha," I teased again. Mom shot me a maternally threatening glare. "What about Daddy?"

Mom simultaneously shook her head and rolled her eyes. To this day she is still rather envious that I demonstratively address him by Daddy and her simply by Mom. Frankly it's nothing personal. Except that Daddy lawfully spoils me, as he is appropriately entitled to do so.

"I talked him into it as well. We are all going."

"Oh, boy! Fun family bonding time!" I cried out with mock enthusiasm.

"What a thrill!" Daddy played along as he planted one on my forehead and joined us at the table.

See, and he gets me, too.

"All right, you two. The longest we will be there is two hours. Please behave yourselves," Mom eyed us both.

"No need to fret, Mom. I'm confident those two hours will provide me with much needed entertainment. It's about that time I get my fix of the laughable gobbledygook," I provided a sweet smile to boot.

"Gobbledy—what? Where do you come up with this stuff?" Emmett's face twisted into something a little frightening. The characteristic expression of a thickhead at its best.

"Emmett, go find something decent to wear," Mom shooed the bighead away after he loaded his last and entire waffle into his mouth with his bare hands.

Unbelievable.

"So you know if this affair stretches out just a minute over two hours I'm walking out, right? I should probably drive myself there, then," Daddy declared and casually sipped his coffee. I giggled out loud.

"Oh, I don't know what to do with you two sometimes!" Mom was annoyed, but I saw she was fighting to keep that smirk at bay.

Emmett wound up requiring major assistance from Mom to find an appropriate combination of garments for our trip to the holy realm of imprudence. Now I'm almost certainly making my beloved fraternal twin brother out to be an absolute brainless mass of semi-man, but that's what sisters are for. He's actually quite sharp when he applies himself but, regrettably, that is just not something he takes a crack at very frequently. Oh, well. He sure did look fancy in his smooth light yellow polo and freshly pressed khaki slacks when he finally emerged from his room with minutes to spare before our due departure. Though incredibly impressive, I was only faintly bothered by Mom's choice—whether subconscious or intentional—to don him in colors that corresponded with my dress. I swear if she still had primary control over our daily attire we would be complementing one another like we used to eight years ago. I am so grateful those days are over.

The moment I crossed the threshold from the brilliant and welcoming outdoors to the cold and ironically sinister castle of senselessness I began to regret my decision to partake in such a despicable affair. The volume of Bible slaves congregating at the stage and falling to their knees was incredible. They were making fools of themselves! It was difficult to survey but captivating at the same time and I ultimately settled on the ugly ass artwork all over the walls. Nauseating, but far better than watching the shameful ignorance at the front of the room.

"This is fucking lame," Emmett appeared beside me and bent closer to keep our conversation out of militant ears.

"Uh, yeah," I quirked both brows.

"How much you bet I can find some pussy here before it's time to leave?" Emmett held back his laughter as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You mean pussy you can take home to fuck at a later date or right here?" I needed him to elucidate before I began throwing numbers at him.

"Al," he hissed and peered around to check if anyone had heard me.

I didn't exactly follow the low-key method that time around. I shrugged, honestly not giving a shit. It would come as an immense satisfaction to be chucked out of here.

"To take home for later. Keep your voice down," he growled after finding my offensive language went unheard by the public.

"Hmm."

I scanned the room for potential candidates. These pretty young girls dressed in conservative cardigans, ankle length skirts and dresses and other grotesque combinations of clothing were not fooling me. I bet every single one of their slutty hypocritical asses would be quick to drop their panties for any decent guy that crossed their path. Emmett's chances were looking fabulous.

"And how exactly do you plan to talk to these girls?"

"I don't know. I'll sit next to some. Something. I'll figure it out."

If I had to name one thing that Emmett and I have in common, it would be our natural and faultless gift to charm the ladies. Thanks, Daddy.

"Twenty bucks."

"Twenty bucks? Come on, I know you can do better than that!"

"Take that as a compliment, bro. I have faith in you. I am not about to risk the big ones if I'm confident you'll stumble upon some ass up in here."

"That's the point. I'm trying to make money off of you. It's not like Dad won't give it all back if you asked," he rolled his eyes.

"Fine, we will do it like this. The hotter the girl, the more you earn. And only because you have already successfully managed to be a complete pain in my ass, I will raise the base price to fifty."

Oh, right. Something else we have in common. Nine out of ten times we see eye to eye when it comes to the level of attractiveness of people, male or female. No, my brother does not play for both teams like me but he is not afraid to acknowledge good looks on another guy. I may have been somewhat responsible for that, however, when I knocked some discretion into his ass a few years back with my plastic baton when he assumed it suitable to openly express negative opinions about any degree of homosexuality. Daddy helped me too, but with encouraging words, not a flimsy weapon. Emmett is now a devoted supporter of the gay community and even recommends some amazing girls for me from time to time. I love my brother.

As for Mom, well, she was pretty neutral about it and appeared most comfortable when no one spoke of the subject, but she is obviously not opposed to touching or kissing another woman herself.

Mm-hmm.

"Oh, that can be done," he asserted with a confident smirk. "See you later," and he disappeared.

I felt only mildly humored and rebellious over the fact that I just gambled, used foul and vulgar language and am presently checking Ms. Rosalie out all under God's roof. And I have barely been here ten minutes. I am also a little confused that he hasn't yet tried to find a way to banish me from this place. You know, seeing as I have been sinning since the minute I've stepped in here and everything. After all, he is the magnificent possessor and manipulator of all things.

Confessing what followed is not an easy task, mostly because I feel cheesy and awkward just thinking about it but I suppose we all have our moments. My moment was more or less a blur since I could not say how long it lasted or what was running through my mind as it happened. What I do remember is I was shamefully puzzled when I suddenly found myself settling down just two rows behind the blonde beauty close to the front of the room. My last conscious recollection of the past couple minutes of my life brought me to the opposite end of the large room with Emmett, but between that and me currently resting my bum on the pew in perfect harmonization with Rosalie, I had nothing.

Did I go after her while in a state of subconsciousness? Did I look like a complete freak stalker as I did it? Why the fuck don't I remember anything? I was thoroughly embarrassed and I still had no idea what happened. Perhaps God or Jesus or somebody magical played a part in this. Maybe they're telling me to pursue her.

In the words of my dazzling brother, that can be done.

For now, though, all that can be done is some back of head staring. Or more specifically, some back of Rosalie's cute head and side of gorgeous face staring.

I must've fallen into another stupor shortly thereafter, but this time I remembered every tiny picture that danced through my tainted mind. I will spare the specifics, but I imagined a huge scenario involving the brightly illuminated London Bridge at night, a kitten, a bag of marshmallows, fireworks, and yours truly. I have an itty bitty baby obsession with cats, so it is imperative to understand exactly how fucking sexy it was to have that kitty there. No it's not a sick sexual obsession or anything, but it'll make more sense once I describe what happened next.

The kitty and I were strolling down the topmost part of the enormous structure just minding our business. I was happily snacking on marshmallows and benefiting from the breathtaking view when suddenly the kitten began to transform! There was a lot of noise, smoke and cheesy music in the background but the end result was Rosalie as Catwoman. She didn't have that stupid mask on her face but the cat ears were there and she wore that pleasant skintight bra thing and pants and some monstrous six-inch stilettos. This is when the fireworks shot and exploded all around us. It was splendidly cheesy and I loved it. She crawled over to me and snatched the bag of marshmallows clean from my hand and leaped off the edge of the overpass above down to the bridge! She was falling at about eighty miles per hour but landed gracefully…like a cat. Then a massive chase ensued but eventually she let me capture her and we proceeded to have wild sex. It was fantastic.

Whoops, there I go again. Shamelessly sinning in God's house. It's nothing I can avoid, honestly.

With that said, I was in and out of attentiveness for the better part of the first hour, switching from gazing around the awful room but mostly at Rosalie, to fantasizing the things I'd do to her should we ever find ourselves alone.

I barely paid heed to her dad preaching fanatically on the stage and I was starting to grow impatient upon realizing there was at least another hour left of this shit.

And then I heard the ultimate bullshit. I nearly stood to furiously object, curse, and verbally lash out on some of these terribly informed idiots. Instead, I took a minute to mentally scream and inhale deeply. Okay, listen to this.

"Nobody on this planet is born without sin because our blood is contaminated by our mother's blood in the womb," or some shit like that.

The fuck? Did you hear that record needle scratch in the background too?

This is far off the mark. On so many fucking levels.

As a firm believer of the biological standpoint of how life works, it is safe to conclude that Mr. Hale is full of shit. Not only would an episode where mother and baby's blood mix together almost certainly prove critical for both parties, this asshole also immorally insults all women with that ongoing arrogant theory established by men that we are all impure and unclean. Also, sins are contagious like that? Shame!

The rage I felt within was unreal. I could no longer stand to look at his face or listen to the putrid garbage that spilled from his mouth.

"Fuck this," I rumbled as I squeezed between my neighbors' knees and the pew in front.

As I followed the aisle towards the exit, I spotted Emmett getting warm and cozy with a fiery redhead. Her face was hidden from my view but Emmett and I had collectively determined long ago that regardless of facial features, body type, or character, redheads automatically get a hundred points.

"Fuck," I could not hold back the wide grin that followed as Emmett cast a sly glance in my direction.

The plan was to be dramatic and barge out of the morbid castle and wait a few minutes for Daddy to come following, but I had a sudden change of heart the second I turned to my left and caught a glimpse of her floating blonde hair disappearing into the ladies' restroom. I played off being lost for a little while until I found what I was looking for.

"Alice!" She gasped with a start and brought her hand to her chest when I not so gracefully entered the restroom.

She had been standing in front of the sink, picking at her eyelash and applying lip balm before I interrupted.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry," I smiled politely through the mirror and turned on the faucet to wash my hands. I was already wildly turned on by how she had breathed out my name.

She relaxed, showing me a sweet forgiving smile and returning to tackle her eyelash. I watched her through slightly narrowed eyelids as I scrubbed my hands.

"How do you like the service?"

"Eh," I openly expressed my disapproval with a disgusted frown.

"I know. I come here a lot just to get away. I'll sit on those comfy seats over there until my mom comes looking for me," she nodded towards the fancy resting area at the opposite end of the room.

"Really," I thought out loud.

It was comforting to hear that even the pastor's kid had no interest in listening to his bullshit. Things were looking good. As I turned to reach for a paper towel, I glanced at the door. Bingo! It had a lock. Now I have to figure out how I will manage to lure her to the top of that table back there.

"Well, you know. It gets old. I've been listening to the same old sermons all my life."

"No, I totally get it," as I dropped my paper towel into the wastebasket, I pressed my back against the door and discreetly locked it behind me. "Do you need help?" I referred to the stubborn eyelash she was still plucking at.

"No thank you, I'm just—ugh, of course," she grumbled and cupped her eye. "I almost had it, then it fell in my eye," she laughed.

That is the oldest trick in the book! Is she trying to seduce me? I can play that game too.

"Let me see," I gently wrapped my fingers around her wrist to draw her hand away. I got all up in her face and held her eyelids apart as I hunted for the short strand of light hair. I found nothing. "Blink."

She blinked a few times. I boldly kept a close proximity.

"Is it still there?"

She only shook her head. She was nervous, I could tell. The good kind of nervous.

As soon as her falsely contaminated eyeballs darted towards my lips, I went straight in for the chaste and friendly kiss.

When Rosalie showed no signs of resistance I leisurely guided her towards the table, our innocent kisses gradually progressing to lip biting, licking, and tongue wrestling with each step we took. It stunned me only a bit when her long fingers coiled around my neck, her hand taking a fistful of the short black locks at my nape. That only made it easier for my own hands to roam freely and explore the generous curves of her hips and ass.

We made it to the table with a crash, knocking a bunch of the elegant decorations to the linoleum below and saving us the duty of chucking them ourselves. Finally breaking from our heated make out session I delivered her to the top of the table with a light push to the chest, where I subsequently advanced to unbuttoning her cute but loose floral cardigan. I only undid the top two buttons, eagerly anticipating my first peek at her cleavage when she suddenly began to hesitate.

"Wait. Wait, no. We—we are disrespecting the Lord," she was barely able to utter through her labored breaths.

"Are we?" I mumbled against her hot neck. "I think he'd have put an end to this if he felt that way."

I almost started on my antichrist tirade about the collectively believed theoretical bullshit that God controls the universe, but then I focused on the important matter at hand.

I was about to get some pussy in this church.

And no supernatural authority was going to disrupt my flow.

"Was that snap I heard earlier—was it you locking the door?" She gripped my shoulders. Her head was thrown back as I lapped and sucked at her neck.

Damn I guess it wasn't so discreet after all.

"Mm-hmm."

She continued to respond famously to my lips and tongue on her neck. I used that as a distraction while I finished opening her cardigan, but I still had another fucking layer to remove before I could even get to her bra. That was certainly putting a damper on our already limited time.

No use in wasting more time complaining. I tossed the garment out of the way and easily slipped her out of her light pink undershirt. My face was already in her cleavage as I reached around to unhook her surprisingly cute white bra. It had little cherries on it! She was back to panting and struggling to support her slanted seated position once her rigid nipples made it between my fingers and lips. I rolled, pinched and nibbled, wishing I could spend more time playing with her perfect tits but I feared being discovered before getting a chance to taste her. Fine if Pastor Hale or his wife barge in with their keys after I've had my face buried in their daughter's virginal slit for at least a few minutes.

With that in mind, I skipped removing her long skirt and simply folded it up to her stomach. I hauled her to the edge of the table and pulled up one of those comfy seats aforementioned by Rosalie. I stroked her once with my thumb over her matching cherry panties before I glided them down her long and smooth legs.

I didn't know if it was even true but I loved the idea that Rosalie had never been touched by hands other than her own before so I wanted to reserve the finger fucking for another date, because I knew we would be meeting up to do this again very soon. Even if it had to be back in this very room.

So I took my time tasting and playing with her, massaging her clit with my tongue and fingers. This uncomplicated approach proved successful what with her unrestrained but low moans and trembling hands holding my face in place each time she felt her climax drawing near. After she quivered and pulsated three times under my care I decided it was acceptable for her beloved misogynistic daddy to storm in if he pleased.

What had actually happened, though, was that Rosalie told me she could not take it anymore and begged me to stop.

"I haven't the faintest idea how to do what you just did, but—" just as Rosalie was offering to return the favor, the lever on the door twitched twice, followed by a knock.

Good. I had wanted this to be all about her, anyway. Just this time. Next time not so much.

"Rosie honey are you in there? Why is this door locked?" Mrs. Hale's gentle voice called from the other side.

"I'll be right out! I got sick and made a huge mess. Alice is helping me clean up," she coolly shouted back.

Well, damn! And I thought she would be freaking out. That was kind of hot.

"Goodness are you okay, darling? Let me in!" Mrs. Hale panicked and frantically twisted the lever as if it would magically unlock.

Well, it might have, considering we were in the house of holy apparitions.

"I am fine! We'll be out in a minute!"

"Alright. Call if you need anything."

"When did you plan that one?" I asked with an incredulous grin.

"Just now," she giggled and reached for her cherry panties.

"Is there any chance your parents would let us play outside of this…place?" I hedged.

I'd hate to offend by disclosing my true thoughts about this piece of shit castle, especially while I'm trying to plan another play date.

"They'll have no choice once I tell them how you patiently nursed me back to health after I threw my guts up all over the floor," she conspired casually as she stuffed her large perky tits back into her bra.

I think my heart just grew for her a little.

After we dumped some Lysol on the floor and mopped it up so it would at least smell like we cleaned up, I helped Rosalie dishevel her hair and fix it back up to reflect some sort of mishap. All of this was her idea. To say I was utterly impressed would be an understatement.

By the time we emerged from ladies' room, Pastor Hale was in the middle of wrapping up his shitty lecture. Perfect.

"Meet me at the stage when it's over," Rosalie whispered before her long legs sped her up the aisle towards her seat. I stood frozen in awe for a few seconds.

On my way back to my seat, I met eyes with Emmett. I almost laughed out loud at the combination of expressions that read on his face. He definitely knew. He was close enough to the back to see that I had followed Rosalie into the restroom nearly half an hour ago. The fact that she was just all up against my ear probably only refuted any doubts he might have had.

It was my turn to shoot him the sly glance.

I also got a peek of the redhead's face, who was staring back at me curiously, probably because she thought the glance was directed at her. She was fucking gorgeous and she had freckles. A lot of fucking freckles. Freckles automatically earn an extra hundred points. My immediate rating of her was an eight-fifty out of one thousand, and that was without the extra two hundred points. The rest would be determined by body and personality.

Oh, well. No amount of money lost could fuck this day up.

I only had to sit through four more minutes of Pastor Hale's baloney talk, but it wasn't like I was listening to his ass anyway. It was mind-boggling how Emmett managed to make it over to me through the large swarm of religious folks and manage to keep the redhead on his arm.

"Sister, you are dirty! This is God's house!"

What an ingenious use of the word 'sister' considering where we are. Bravo, brother. I knew his mock distress was employed only to impress the—oh my fucking shit she is a fucking Rosalie with red hair and freckles! I didn't know whether to be happy or jealous.

"Who's your new friend?" I smiled at the confused and almost frightened-looking girl.

"Renesmee," her disorientation morphed into a friendly grin.

Ruh—eww. What the fuck is that? Whoever came up with that ought to be legally renamed something like Funkbarfshit. That should affect her final score.

Ruhnaenae's grin faded just as quickly as mine did. "I go by Nessie," I think she was embarrassed.

Fantastic. And her nickname reminds me of a massive brachiosaurus with fins. I am so disappointed. I just have to remember that this isn't her fault and she's fucking hot no matter what.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Alice," my brilliant beam returned as we shook hands. "Will you excuse me for a minute?"

I darted towards the stage where Rosalie waited with her holy parents and weird brother.

"Alice, thank you so much for taking care of Rosie in the restroom!" Mrs. Hale dramatically threw her arms around me. "God bless your kind heart!"

Fuck, did Rosalie tell them she was near death and I provided her with the kiss of life via mouth to mouth?

"That was quite a noble thing you did for our daughter," Pastor Hale put his big ass hand on my shoulder.

"It was my pleasure. I didn't even have to think twice about what I did for her back there. I would do it over again in a heartbeat," oh I crack myself up so much it's stupid!

I couldn't help but glance at Rosalie. Her cheeks had colored crimson and she was fighting back the hysterics as desperately as I was.

Mrs. Hale was nearly in tears. "Oh I knew God brought you to us for a reason!"

So I could fuck your daughter?

"To be a loyal guardian and companion for our sweet girl," Pastor Hale brought Rosalie close for a one-armed sideways hug, firmly squeezing her shoulders.

Fuck, are these people serious? Are they so fucking brainwashed that they truly believe it was God's work that joined us on the top of that table? Well, I suppose not since they haven't the slightest idea what actually happened, but goddamn! Are they incapable of letting one little affair not be the product of some miraculous deed?

"That's great, Dad, because I was going to ask if Alice and I could hang out tomorrow. Maybe do dinner and a movie? Perhaps a little slumber party next weekend?" Wow. The way she asked that, so free of any corrupt undertone almost had me fooled.

"Certainly. So long as her parents approve!"

"I'm sure they will—" shit speaking of the rents, I spotted them with Emmett loitering rather impatiently at the exit and staring at me half annoyed and half helplessly. I hadn't noticed how quickly the crowd had cleared out. "I'd forgotten we had somewhere to be. They're waiting for me," I gestured.

"Oh! Okay, well tell your mother I'll see her next Sunday. Hope to see you as well!"

The hell you will.

"I'll tell her. Have a great day," I waved as I started down the steps.

"Wait, Alice, you dropped this," Rosalie chased after me with my phone in her palm.

My eyes met hers and she mouthed the words call me, bringing her thumb to her ear and pinky to her lips.

"Thanks!" And I ran.

What a fucking day.

"So I got her number and everything. I think she is a perfect thousand. You?" Emmett asked as soon as we hopped in the backseat of Daddy's Mercedes.

"I'd have given her that mark as well, but…that name," I still couldn't get over that. "That should've knocked some points off."

"How many?"

"Eh. Not enough to make any kind of dent."

"So you agree she's a thousand?"

"Yes," I groaned.

Emmett glared. "Do you even have that much?"

"I do. And since I am in a good mood today, I think I'll have no problem handing it over. So if you want to get paid I suggest you be nice to me."

"But wait! There's more. You haven't heard my proposition. This wasn't originally part of the bargain, but…what you did was fucking epic—"

"Emmett! What on earth are you two talking about back there?" Mom turned to look at us from the passenger's seat.

"Uhhhhh—" Emmett really wasn't skilled at improvisation. He had no damn business talking about this in front of the rents.

"Emmett and I laid a wager on who could find the most engrossing distraction to pass the time because, face it, we all knew neither of us were going to last long in there. Emmett found a cute girl to flirt with and I—well, I saved Rosalie's life in the ladies' room," I figured it'd get around to Mom eventually.

"Oh, is that what you call it?" Emmett snorted.

I took a jab at his side and stomped on his foot. He started to release an acute and totally girly ass squeak but he bit his tongue before it became loud enough for Daddy and Mom to investigate.

"You saved Rosalie's life?" Yeah, Mom was not buying it. I guess she'll feel silly when she hears it from Mrs. Hale, then.

But I decided to keep up with the charade. Mom was used to this sort of behavior and after a while she just stops asking for explanations.

"Yeah and Emmett was just telling me how my distraction was by far the most engrossing and heroic of the two but since the girl he was flirting with was super gorgeous and he got her number, his beautiful distraction cancelled out my…effing epic one so now Emmett and I don't owe each other anything."

And just like that Emmett missed out on a juicy payday.

"Oh my God," Mom shook her head.

Daddy, on the other hand, was chuckling behind the wheel.

"You kiddos are a hoot."

"That's what you get," I showed no sympathy as he cradled his aching side and foot.

"How'd you know I was going to say that?" He hissed incredulously.

"I didn't," no, really. I didn't. I felt kind of awesome about it, though.

"Whatever. You win. I'll get you next time."

That's what he said the last time.

I wound up going down for a two-hour nap in the late afternoon to pick up the slack from this morning. The snooze was both energizing and loaded with effervescent animations of—you guessed it—Rosalie and me. I have to say my thoughts are perverted whether I am conscious or not. This totally sounds paradoxical, but my vivid dreams left nothing to the imagination. Again I will spare the details, but Rosalie and I were naked and touching each other about 95% of the time. The other 5% was of us explicitly talking about being naked and touching each other. It was spectacular and I woke up with my hand in my panties. I considered running to the drawer to recover my favorite vibrator, but I felt that all the graphic images from my dreams would disappear if I moved.

In an instant I recalled when Rosalie slipped my iPhone into my palm and, like a mime, told me to get in touch. I reached for my phone and saw I had a text from a nameless number.

It's Rose. Save my number!

I chewed on my lip and replied. What are you doing now?

I closed my eyes, feeling sluggish and not wanting to move. I was enjoying every second of it.

My phone chirped a few minutes later.

Touching myself. Thinking about you. She had adorned the message with a flushed, sheepish emoticon.

I had to blink and read the text over about ten times. A pastor's kid wouldn't say this!

Prove it!

You sure you want me to do that?

Ask your daddy if God's ok with it.

I couldn't even stop myself from that one.

I thought I had offended her when she didn't reply after a couple of minutes. I was trying to come up with some type of apology or explanation when finally my phone buzzed.

Fuck what they have to say.

And attached to her touching message was a teasing photo of her from the neck to a little below her crotch in that same cherry underwear set, tugging on her bra. I almost felt emotional just then, what with seeing her drop the f-bomb, rebuffing her holy fathers, and that damn taunting photo. I could have cried.

Well then take that shit off!

Already have.

Prove it! I repeated.

Can't right now. I'm busy. Gotta go!

I sent her four texts practically begging her to show me something but she was gone. I about screamed as I theatrically tossed my phone towards the end of the bed and flung myself under the sheets.

"Wake up sis!" Emmett erupted through the door. "Dad's taking us out to eat for behaving like little angels—hey, what's this?"

Before I had time to take in what was happening my phone had already made it to his large hands. I sat up and waited with a smirk, watching as his eyes and mouth expanded. If he still had any trace of distrust about my true adventures in the ladies' room, that photo certainly was the icing on the cake of invalidation.

"HOLY SHIT! Is that Rosalie?" His screech was loud enough to make me shrink away from him.

I took the opportunity to steal my phone back as he gaped moronically at the screen.

"It's her thanks for…for saving her life."

"You're real smooth, Al," he was not amused. "We're leaving in a few minutes. Hurry up," and he walked out.

I had the dumbest grin on my face for the rest of the day. There was a powerful sensation telling me that I was about to have a lot of fun with Ms. Rosalie, independent of any inexplicable force in the sky.

Thanks for reading :-)