"This story is an entry for the Carlisle and Esme Summer Citrus Contest. To see the other entries for this contest, please visit tiickledpink's Community at the following address: .net/community/Carlisle_and_Esme_Summer_Citrus_Contest/93193/."
Title: On Call
Author: Ivytruce2
Rating: M
Summary: Her daughter is giving her the cold shoulder, her kids are being rowdy, her son is playing his piano too loudly, and her husband is on call. Is it too late for Esme to salvage her night, or will she be able to effectively seduce her husband despite the many distractions in their house?
Word count: 2945
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owners. The author of this story in no way profits from its use or distribution.
Thanks as always goes to Mackenzie L. for beta reading this chapter and flushing out my profuse mistakes.
Please enjoy my entry for the Summer Citrus Contest!
THIS FIC TIED FOR THIRD PLACE! THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED ME INTO THE TOP THREE!
Esme's POV
Closing the bedroom door behind my back, I watched as Carlisle removed his white lab coat and hung it in the closet.
Light flutters worked away in the recesses of my stomach as I witnessed the perfectly mundane act. I cocked my head and followed him with my eyes until he paused by the window to look outside, breathing a bit heavier than was typical for him.
My hand furtively slipped behind my back and I switched the lock into place on the door handle.
The sound of my own carpeted footsteps enhanced the environmental intimacy as I approached him at the window, wondering where his eyes rested in the thick forest outside.
He smiled tiredly at me as though he could see something inside of me that even I was oblivious to. A nonexistent blush rose beneath my ever-cold cheeks as my eyes caressed the firm angle of his face, his flawless ivory skin, the golden gleam in his deep eyes. They were getting pretty dark lately... He obviously hadn't been hunting as much recently as the rest of us had. Probably because of all the time he spent at the hospital.
Taking notice to his outdrawn arm, I again placed my hand within his and gratefully leaned into his body. He rubbed his hand over the small of my back, and his chin rested just above my head. Any pain that once coursed me from his day-long absence was now lost through the wonderful power of having him near.
"Oh my goodness," I murmured against him.
He shifted slightly. "Just what prompted such an exclamation from you, my dear?" His soft interrogation brought me back to reality.
Had I just said that out loud?
I shook my head against his shoulder and breathed a weak reply. "Mm, nothing, I just didn't realize how...Nevermind."
He said nothing further. I sensed he was in deep thought again, but I felt tentative about prying.
The distant echoes of Alice's fit of sparkly giggles and Emmet's rough guffaw caused my husband's head to turn toward the door with a faint trace of a smirk on his lips.
He looked discreetly at me for a second before moving back to the closet. "I wonder what that's about," he sighed.
I smiled halfheartedly. Alice and Emmet certainly had seemed to be in high spirits today. Rosalie, on the other hand...
"Is something wrong?" Carlisle's voice was a soft intrusion to my thoughts.
I blinked and distractedly flipped my hair. "Hm, n-no."
He stared at me doubtfully.
The problem wasn't going to go away on its own. I felt the sudden, pressing need to tell someone, perhaps even discuss it with him...
I began with a sigh, "It's just Rosalie." He looked up from the shirt he had placed halfway on the hanger. "This morning we were arguing. I - I said something I probably shouldn't have." I looked down, uncharacteristically embarrassed and slightly regretful of my choice to tell him. "She's been angry with me all day since."
"That sounds like Rosalie," he commented dryly, distracting himself with the shirt again. I was surprised he hadn't questioned me on the nature of the argument.
"I wanted to talk it through with her earlier, but she won't let me near her."
He chuckled with light irony. "Queen of the Cold Shoulder..." I couldn't help but laugh a bit at the appropriate title. Carlisle could be so effortlessly witty when he wasn't trying - of course that was due in large part to his natural charm. "Don't worry, she'll come around," he assured quietly. He somehow always made me so much surer just by the tone in his voice.
He smiled as he caught my eye, and I looked back to the window sheepishly. "You're wearing black," he mentioned suddenly. I veered my head back around to stare at him.
I looked down at my dark ensemble. "And...?" I couldn't fight the curious smile that crept onto my face.
"I find it remarkable how you manage to make the color of mourning look so lovely."
I mumbled a word of thanks, my smile glowing helplessly at his comment. He always found something nice to say about me, but it had been a while since one of his compliments had taken me by surprise in such a way.
He occupied himself with searching through the closet again, a perfectly knowing smile on his lips. He stole a quick glance at me, and I easily caught the flicker of amused flirtatiousness in his gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched up just a fraction after looking back down just as quickly.
Tiny butterflies danced through my stomach again. I watched the motions of his arms moving as he mindlessly sorted through his clothes. The look of concentration in his eyes was such a common look for him, yet it never failed to touch me in a mysteriously profound way no matter how many times I saw it. He sighed and ran one hand absently through his golden hair, unaware of just how sexy he had made it look with the oblivious motion.
The need to touch him flooded through me with suffocating voltage. I was mere inches away from lunging at him from across the room and knocking him to the floor beneath me.
The classy chime of his cell phone broke my sudden urge.
His eyebrows rose quickly in slight surprise as he produced the small cell from his pocket and held it against his ear.
"Dr. Cullen….Hello, Leslie... Mr. Foster... Yes I sent him to the ICU this morning." He continued ordering the clothes obsessively in the closet as he spoke on the phone. "How is he doing?...Okay...Yeah, tell him not to worry, they're only going to give him a general anesthesia for the initial tests."
I giggled under my breath at the casual tone he used when discussing such critical matters.
"I would assume about 4 hours, but don't expect it to be even that long...Uh huh.."
He walked past me to pull a notepad from the desk drawer behind me and I moved politely out of the way. He leaned over the desk as he scribbled something in flawless manuscript.
"Well, I looked at his X-rays earlier and it doesn't look like we'll need that...I noticed some fractures in his ribs but if for some reason tomorrow's test results do turn up negative, he'll want to contact a cardiologist immediately."
He looked up from the short paragraph of blue ink to stare at the wall in concentration, perfectly still as a statue. Then he laughed sheepishly, the sound like sweet honey to my ears. "I'm flattered they're all so interested in my recommendation, but cardiology really isn't my assigned department."
I bit my lip and smiled. Of course they were all tentative about leaving my brilliant surgeon for another doctor.
"The most I can do is recommend Dr. Charleston. I have worked with him very closely before, and I feel he'd be most compatible with Mr. Foster… All right?... You're welcome... Good night."
He sighed and placed the phone on the desk, finishing the page of brief notes, which he tore out and tucked into the pocket of his lab coat.
I stared hard at him, all trace of smile gone from my face. "You're on call tonight," I stated. I didn't mean to sound accusatory, but I could tell from the look on his face that I did.
He looked at me apologetically, but again said nothing.
I perched myself on the edge of the bed and crossed my legs in a subtly seductive manner. He didn't look. "Is there any way you can get around being 'on call' six nights a week?"
He chuckled. "I could take the night shift." He tugged at his tie until it fell from around his collar.
I pursed my lips. "Never mind." I wasn't about to sacrifice my nights with him.
A door slammed two floors below with a loud bang that did not require enhanced perception to hear.
Carlisle narrowed his eyes just a trace, unflinching. "That was Edward," he said quietly.
"He's been awfully moody lately," I commented.
"He's a man of many phases."
The mattress dipped slightly with Carlisle's added weight beside me. I felt the feather light touch of his finger on my ear, drawing a fine lock of hair behind my shoulder. "You worry so much about them."
"It's in my nature." I replied. I let my hand slip discreetly over his thigh.
I sensed his response was just moments from escaping his lips, but it was again cut short by the dreaded ring of his phone. It would have been awfully romantic had he ignored the sound completely and pushed me into the bed, but his character was much too wholesome to consider such action.
He cleared his throat out of habit and answered, to my utter surprise, reclining fully onto the bed. "Dr. Cullen."
I smiled and lay down next to him, letting my cheek rest against his chest. Truth be told, it wasn't a total loss if the night was spent listening to nothing but his voice on the phone. It didn't matter in the least if his topic of discussion featured fatal diseases and MRIs.
"Yes, she just called me a few minutes ago... Are they convinced?... No, I'm not opposed to the idea, but I would be more comfortable seeing the scans for myself first."
His voice was so soft, flowing so effortlessly, stopping my breath short at times I least expected. I found my hand moving down his stomach to rest just above his belt, where my fingers traced circles on the thin fabric of his shirt.
My breath caught in my throat as his hand firmly gripped mine, preventing my path from venturing any lower. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that please?" he murmured into the phone, his voice clearly distracted.
I grinned to myself. He still held my hand tightly until the conversation drew to a close. "Tell him if the pain persists, he should give me a call... I'll write him up for an appointment on Saturday... That's fine... Good night."
He breathed out slowly, placing his phone carefully on the end table. "Hands, Esme," he chided in a whisper that was anything but displeased. He pulled my deviant hand up to his heart.
"Did I exceed the boundaries, darling?" I asked innocently.
"There are no boundaries," he answered. I swallowed.
He brushed the backs of his knuckles smoothly over the skin above the neckline of my dress. I felt my desire grow stronger at his intimate touch.
"Carlisle..." His name was a breathy whisper that barely escaped from the back of my throat.
In the next instant, his lips were attached to mine. Somewhere inside of me, I was crying out in ecstasy. But outside I wore mask of perfect silence.
My body was bare against him in a second, his hands making fast work of my clothes and his own as we tumbled backwards onto the bed.
The sweet lilting melody of a piano song drifted to my ears from several rooms below. Edward's deft fingers were uncharacteristically tentative on the keys.
I smiled nervously as my concentration shifted to another set of deft fingers, splayed over the planes of my hips.
"Are we thinking too loud?" I asked my husband, only barely miffed by Edward's suspiciously timely intrusion.
Carlisle's focus trained on the base of my neck as he replied, "I think maybe he's trying to throw us off."
I giggled softly and smirked up at him. "I've heard it rumored that you are not so easily distracted, Dr. Cullen. Is that true?"
"It depends on who's doing the distracting."
He claimed my mouth again, kissing me passionately. In the lesser concentrated niche of my mind, I could make out the quickening pace of Edward's impatient hands on the piano downstairs.
Carlisle pressed himself flush against my body, and my head fell back against the soft mattress with a satisfying thud. He tipped my head back with both his hands and trailed his fingers reverently down my throat, repeating the journey with his tongue.
I arched against his body just as an accidental whimper escaped my mouth.
The chords of the piano downstairs clashed together, and the sick urge to further provoke the musician pushed through the thick fog of desire to the forefront of my mind.
I promptly acted on a whim and tossed my arms up around Carlisle's neck, kissing him hungrily, putting forth no effort to mask my incessant panting.
The unharmonious sound of random keys being pounded was followed by the enraged slam of the lid over the piano. And Edward left the house.
A twinge of guilt rose up inside me, soon to be thrust aside by the aching need for release.
Carlisle's attention was unhealthily one-dimensional at the moment, and I was overcome by the thrilling notion that he had been entirely unaware of his son's sudden departure.
He pressed me back into the bed and broke the kiss that had threatened to lose me. I moaned lightly in protest, my limbs wanting to continue the contact, but he pinned me determinedly in place.
Then in an instant, Edward returned to his piano, promptly diving into a new, loud and violent sounding song that featured all minor keys.
Carlisle growled.
"I think I might have made him angry," I admitted.
Carlisle settled in frustrated resignation to my side, and I quickly masked my regret. "He's trying to distract himself from us."
Carlisle's eyes flashed in the dark as I met his intense gaze.
A wordless sound emitted from my mouth. His fingers curled around mine beneath the sheets.
Edward's sonata of madness plowed on in the room beneath us.
I wanted to bury him alive just then.
"Does this song even have a name?" I asked Carlisle.
He smiled, still staring down at our intertwined hands. "Conspiracy in F minor."
I laughed, for a moment forgetting my anger at having lost the moment.
Our minute of silenced minds was apparently the cause of the abrupt end to the song. Edward stalked out the front door again, supposedly satisfied. At least for the moment.
I rose slowly from my reclined position and sighed heavily, glancing down at my husband. "Well, then..."
I hadn't even intended for my open ended interjection to sound so suggestive, but it must have betrayed my hope.
Carlisle raised his eyebrows. "Well, then...?" he repeated innocently.
He cocked his head and slowly brought my hand up to his lips. He closed his eyes and placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand.
I expected him to instantly resume what we had ceased not minutes ago, but he simply laid my hand against his chest and looked the other way, distracted.
Before I registered my own movement, I leaned down and kissed his neck. My trembling accelerated as I heard him purr lightly.
He tilted his neck back ever so slightly, giving me more room to work with.
I traced the outline of his face with my lips, and retreated to see his expression. His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed up at me, looking so vulnerable that my breath caught in my throat.
A driving force kicked me into action, and I fell over him, kissing his lips with sinful intensity. His hands wrapped around my back and pulled me against him.
A muffled noise of surprise came from my throat as he swiftly pinned me beneath his body again. I smiled against his mouth and shivered with pleasure as I noted the distinct taste of his venom on my tongue.
My eyes widened at the bold change in his hands' direction. When I felt his fingers between my legs, I let my head fall back again, feeling myself growing closer to that moment when things would spiral out of control.
I begged him to let me find relief, crying out as his fingers stroked me faster and faster to the brink of ecstasy. Obeying my command, he crushed my body to his and sunk into me, his lungs heaving erratically against my breasts. The lower half of my body was buried beneath his, matching him thrust for thrust as he pounded into me.
Not even aware that I was practically hanging from his body, I was killed by my climax and fell slack under his weight.
His name surfaced, at long last from my constricted throat. And I heard him say my name through the cloudiness of my mind.
It was times like these when I found it impossible to believe that I was no longer in possession of a beating heart.
His hands came back to sweep my hair away from my face as he gave me a loving smile in the dark. "Is it just my imagination, or do you get better at this every time we do it?"
I smiled slyly back at him. "It's not your imagination," I said, then I kissed him hard on the mouth.
He laughed against me as we lost ourselves to the kiss, rolling underneath the covers like a pair of teenagers who had just discovered the wonders of sex for the first time.
Then his phone rang.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I listened as he reached over on the second ring and flipped it open.
"Dr. Cullen."
Anyone on the other end would have been hard-pressed to recognize his voice in its current state.
Yet, they would never have known precisely what their doctor had been doing just prior to their call.
Ta da! My first lemon ever!
Just as a reminder, this one shot is for the Carlisle and Esme Summer Citrus Contest, a brilliant way for authors to write more lemons for this amazing couple. If you want to see some other amazing one shots by other authors, check out tiickledpink's C2 for the contest and go review their work!
Also, please give me an honest opinion of what you thought of mine. =)