Chapter two... at last! Thanks for your patience. I'll be working on a more steady sched now. Every week most likely. I hope you enjoy the rest of this romp as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

Huge thanks to the one and only HollettLA who has graciously agreed to wrangle my commas and beta for me once again. Smooches, lady.

I don't own, I just play (boy do I!)


He woke up with a smile on his face. He stretched, his hands grazing satins and velvets. He could hear water running and slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight was coming through the silk curtains at the window, washing the room in its bright, pink hue. Rosalie's bed was large and comfortable, and covered in bright satin and velvet pillows. Her leopard sheets somehow made sense amongst the chaos of colors. It was nothing like his strictly navy, white, and beige apartment. His mother had decorated the apartment for him. It was classic and manly and boring as hell now that he was staring at wall to his left that had a giant Indian deity painted on it. Fake roses and strands of pearls had been affixed to the goddess's many arms and in her hair. It was impossibly loud and garish… he fucking loved it.

Emmet sat up and leaned against the back wall, taking everything in. How had he lived so conventionally? He didn't even realize he liked colors until he woke up in Rosalie's domain. The water had stopped. There was some shuffling about before a door to his right opened. Out walked Rosalie in a long, deep purple kimono with hot pink flowers embroidered on it. Her hair was messily thrown in a bun; there wasn't a stitch of makeup on her. She smelled of lemons and something spicy and all Emmett wanted to do was grab her and defile her once again.

"I thought you would be a snorer." Rose said as she sauntered to a bureau covered in jewelry boxes and earring trees.

"You look so beautiful right now."

She turned and smiled, a tiny flash of color coloring her cheeks and chin.

"This is when I would normally say something snarky and try to kick you out. Maybe goad you, or insult your manhood... Peaches."

"Bring it on, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, babe."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

Sharing a long heated stare, Emmett finally broke the silence.

"Tell me you're naked under that... that…" he struggled for the word.

"Kimono. And yes, I'm naked."

At hearing the word naked come from her lips, Emmett's dick went from mildly amused to fiercely interested.

"Is that a gun in there or are you just happy to see me?" sassed Rose.

"I want you right now."

"What makes you think I want youright now, though?"

"You're sweating, sexy. Do us both a favor and come over here."

"You know, I'm not used to following directions, Peaches."

"Tell you what, after you let me fuck you, feel free to order me to do anything you want."

Rose smiled and shook her head at her own weakness around her man. Her man? Was he really hers, already? Hell yes, he was!

Kneeling onto the bed, Rose made her way up to her man until he was between her legs. When she was hovering over his obviously hard dick, she cocked an eyebrow at Emmett who was too transfixed on her face to take any action.

"Unless you want me fucking you through the sheets, big boy, you better move them."

Still staring up at her, Emmett tugged hard at the sheets around him until he felt air hitting his ever-heating body. When he was bare to her, she lowered her body onto him sheathing his length inside her wet, warm folds. He cursed and grabbed at her waist causing the silk of her robe to pull apart. A column of smooth, pale flesh met his eyes - her crotch, her soft stomach and smooth torso, the hint of her phenomenal breasts. As she raised herself up and came back down onto his shaft, her kimono shifted again revealing her left nipple.

"So. Good," she moaned as she ground her pelvis into his lap.

With every thrust and slam, her robe shifted and fell away until nothing but the tie kept it against her body. The top half had slid off her completely, resting in the crooks of her arms. Her breasts were bare and glorious, bouncing in his face with every move. The bottom half of her robe was merely grazing her thighs and pooled around her feet and his knees. It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen and he had stripped her of a leather corset just a few hours ago.

It was easy to get wrapped up in how stunning he found her, but he couldn't ignore how incredible it felt to have her full, fleshy ass grinding into his thighs. How incredible it was that, with every rise and fall of her body, his cock was fully sheathed. How amazing and hot his body became every time she gasped at what she felt. When she threw her head back and whimpered loudly before letting out a strangled, "Motherfucker!", he didn't need any more convincing that Rose had been created for him and him alone.

She came hard, a rush of thick, warm, wet encompassing his shaft and then his lap. He could feel the sticky mess they were creating and he never wanted it to end. But all too soon, he was ready to come. Unable to control the intensity of his release, he dug his fingers into her pliant body, thrust up into her, and cried out as his jizz spurted into Rose's waiting body. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body was rendered temporarily paralyzed from the force of his own release. When it was over, when his body stopped spasming and was once again controlled by his own brain, he had to check himself and take a breath or risk a burst of emotion he never thought could be caused by coming inside a woman.

"Tell me you've never..." Rose started, but Emmett cut her off.

"I've never experienced anything that intense, no."

"Shit, Emmett. If you ever leave me, I swear to God I'll pull a Lorena Bobbitt on you. No one is allowed on this dick except me, understood?"

The fire this woman has, he thought as he took in her overly passionate words. The fire, the beauty, the body, the way her pussy sucked his cock in for more and more... the colors of her world. It was all so right. So absolutely right for him.

"Fuck it. I love you, Rose."

She was dumbstruck and silent... but only for a moment.

"But..."

He didn't know much about her yet, but he knew she was a bitch to the outside world. He knew she was sharp-tongued and tough. He also knew, instinctively, that he was the only man who had ever torn away at her hard layer and made her blush, made her unsure.

"No 'buts,' sexy; I love you. Deal with it."

He didn't care if she didn't say it back right away; she would eventually.

"Let's take a shower, we're all kinds of sticky," he said, excusing her from answering him.

It wasn't until he was drying her off, reverently wiping down each leg, every finger, and making her feel as precious as silks and rubies that she said it back. He simply winked and smiled at her.

"You cocky motherfucker."

"Yup."

***SW***

"Bitch, this better be good. It's eight A.M. on a Sunday-fucking-morning."

"Shut it, dog. I need a dress."

Jake and Rosalie had a love/hate relationship. They found each other at design school. Rose was convinced she was going to be the next great lingerie designer. Turned out, she couldn't sketch to save her life, her sewing skills were pathetic and never improved, and she had a hell of a time translating what was in her head onto a human body. It wasn't even an entire year before she realized that she would never know Victoria's Secret. She switched to the business program at the fashion institute and never looked back.

Jake, on the hand, was something of a savant. Anything he thought of, he could recreate. Rosalie both hated and revered him for it. Jake's talent stopped at the sewing machine, though. He was awful with people, had no sense of business or professionalism and, had it not been for Rose, would have flunked out... due in large part to his allergy to alarm clocks. Rose, although a jealous bitch, simply couldn't stand to see someone as talented as Jake flunk out, so an unlikely - and rocky - relationship bloomed.

"Not another Victorian ball," he whined. "If I have to make you one more ruffled, bustled, buttoned-up outfit, I'm gonna hurl, diva."

"No, Jake, not another Victorian ball. I need couture. I need something divine and I want every man panting and every woman speculating."

"It's been a long time since I've said this, but I love you, whore."

"Oh, just hush up and meet me at the fabric store at eleven."

***SW***

It had been three solid weeks of Rosalie and Emmett. Meals, evening visits, phone calls... any moment they could spare, they spent with each other. Rose, for her part, had never been in love. She had never dared say the words. She feared the loss of the love she gave away. She feared giving herself over completely just to be cast aside someday. That was before Emmett.

When Emmett asked her to accompany him to the annual Red Cross Ball, the biggest charity event of the year, she was scared, honored, and scared again. She had never had to meet the family of a man she was dating. Certainly she had never though it would play out at some exclusive charity ball with the entire city's most elite and important citizens. Emmett was practically bouncing he was so excited.

As he kissed her before leaving that evening, he had one request.

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, if I can."

"Wear red for me?"

"I can do that."

"Great!" He beamed as he opened the door. "Oh and, Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I want every man in that room jealous of the knock-out on my arm."

"I'll do my best, Peaches." She winked as he closed the door behind himself.

The second he left, she collapsed into an arm chair and bit at her pinky nail, a nervous habit she thought she had dropped since graduating from school.

"Oh Christ, Rose! Man the fuck up, girl!" she said aloud to herself before quickly grabbing the tequila out of the freezer and taking a hit.

The night of the event, Rosalie had found her composure thanks to Jake. He made sure her dress was perfect and kept her as calm as he could. He had never seen her nervous before… it was endearing. He was in tears at the sight of his creation on her. Miles of deep red taffeta hugged Rosalie's curves like a dream. The full and massive bubble-hemmed, fishtail-skirt, surrounded Rose like some shimmering cloud. The asymmetrical neckline made the most of Rosalie's insane rack and gorgeous shoulders. She was a vision and Jake was just delirious enough to admit it.

When Rose slipped on her soft, black leather gloves, and was finished pinning and smoothing out her elaborately braided hair, he was damn-near speechless. Emmett would be walking into that ball with a work of art and Jake was proud they created it together.

"You look like a masterpiece, Rose. I've never seen you more beautiful."

"Was that an actual compliment, Jake?"

"It just slipped out; don't get used to it."

"I feel like a masterpiece thanks to you... dog." She added, so as not to let the moment get too mushy. She had mascara to keep pristine, after all.

When her phone chirped, she checked the text.

"Emmett is here with the limo. Help me downstairs?"

"Excuse me? I am not your little servant boy, bitch."

"Do me a fucking favor and help me down the goddamn stairs in this torture contraption you made for me, okay?"

They smiled as their "normal" repartee came back to them.

Hand-in-hand, step-by-step, they made their way slowly down the stairs. When Jake opened the door for Rosalie and Emmett saw her for the first time, he paled instantly. In his wildest dreams she couldn't have looked more exquisite. She was desirable, beautiful, so stunning it was shocking. It was an incredible turn-on for him knowing that every man at that ball would want what he had. But now that he actually saw his dream come to life, he was feeling beyond selfish. He wanted to stare at her, alone, all night long.

"This is when you say something... flattery works best at times like these," Jake said, breaking the silence.

"You're the most perfect specimen of a woman I've ever seen, Rosalie."

"Phew! Damn that was gooooood. Rose, this is when you thank the eloquent son of a bitch," Jake mediated.

"Thank you," Rose answered quietly.

"Okay Emmett, she needs help moving, that dress is practically glued to her. Come on, she won't bite... at least, not yet, she won't," he hinted.

After handing Rose off into the capable hands of Emmett Cullen, Jake watched as perhaps the most perfectly suited couple he had ever seen, made their way into a limo. When the door closed, he knocked on the glass. The window came down to reveal a flushed Rose. Jake had never seen the bitch blush before. It surprised him. She really was in love, wasn't she? He almost didn't think it was possible.

"When anyone asks you about the dress..." he started.

"Don't worry, I'll drop your name all over the place, Jake. Thank you."

"You better," he said as he walked away. Suddenly another kind of dress popped into his head. A dress designed to walk down an aisle.

***SW***

Emmett couldn't help but stare at her and she couldn't help but smile back. When they arrived at the ball, the driver had to clear his throat before they were even aware that they had stopped and the door was open. Emmett jumped to action. He ran around the car and put out his hand to help Rose out of the limo. The usually long and tedious walk to the door, past the press, somehow seemed less daunting to him tonight. He had worried about Rose being in the spotlight so suddenly, but he shouldn't have. She was aloof and cunning with the press. She never said too much and put up her irresistibly regal and cool persona.

Once inside, heads turned. The charity set was used to pretty women in pretty dresses. They had even, occasionally, seen beautiful women in beautiful dresses. But Rose was another animal entirely. Her waist, her hips, her chest, her broad shoulders, her height... they demanded attention on any regular day. But tonight, her body was wrapped in a dress that demanded the crowd around her to pay attention. Look and judge. Whether that judgment was good or bad, didn't matter, but people paid attention. Some even lusted... the very thought forced Emmett to think of stocks, baseball, his grandmother in a bikini. If he didn't, the charity attendees would get a glimpse of more than just Rose's ample cleavage.

By the time they reached the Cullen table, everyone was dying to know who "that" woman was. Had Rose been by herself, she would have given all the haters some serious bitch-face, but being on Emmett's arm made her stand taller and behave like a woman of incredible worth. Before she knew it, Rose was in front of a couple that begged to be painted. He was calm and debonair, with a head of nearly white hair. She was elegance personified in her black velvet strapless gown, pearls the size of gumballs, and a head of coppery caramel hair that would have put Rita Hayworth to shame.

"Mom, Dad, this is my Rosalie."

The necessary frost she put on her shoulders melted at his words.

"Rosalie, this is my mother, Esme, and my father, Carlisle."

"Mister and Mrs. Cullen..." She was cut-off before she could continue.

"Don't you dare, we're Esme and Carlisle." Esme said as she pulled away from her husband. "Walk with me, dear."

Esme Cullen was not simply some wealthy socialite with too much time and too much money on her hands; she was a deeply caring woman who honestly wanted to make a difference. The accident of her birth into one of the city's wealthiest families helped her achieve those goals. After graduating college, she joined the Peace Corps. She came back to the United States six years later a different woman. She also came back married to one Carlisle Cullen.

On their way toward the bar, Esme couldn't help but smile. She would have never thought it possible for Emmett to meet his match. From the outside, Edward would have seemed to be the most difficult child. He was moody, artistic, obsessive, and private. But Esme had known that there was someone, just the right someone, out there for him. She would have to be quiet and patient, shy and soulful. When she met Bella for the first time, she knew he was right for him. Jasper, with his intelligence and calming demeanor, was another case entirely. He needed someone to keep him on his toes, someone to rile him up every once in a while. Alice's boundless energy and generous heart made her Jasper's perfect choice.

Emmett however, was another case entirely. How did you find the exact right person for someone who was so open and kind? Emmett had the largest heart of all her boys. She knew he could have given that heart to many women over the years. His easy smile and sharp wit were hard to resist for the fairer sex, and women threw themselves at him. Emmett gave every single woman he met a chance. From smart girls and pretty girls, sweet and simple girls - he had been with them all. Nothing stuck, nothing was just right. Nothing was Rosalie.

"You've made Emmett happier than I've ever seen him. That's saying something, too. He gets happy when they have the right brand of deodorant at the store."

Rose couldn't help but laugh. She could see Emmett roaming the aisles of his local drug store and grinning like a fool when he found his Old Spice.

"Thank you. He's..." But she paused. She had only just met the mother of the man she loved. It seemed odd to spill all her secrets and feelings so soon. She should have known better than to resist a Cullen, though.

"No, no, don't hold back now! A woman who's brave enough to wear that dress can damn well express her feeling, too!"

A deep breath and, "He's changed me."

"For the better, I hope?"

"For the better, yes."

"He loves you, you know. I think for the first time he's truly in love."

"I love him back, Mrs... I mean, Esme. I love him more than I thought I could after the mere weeks we've been together."

"Has he asked you yet?"

"Asked me what?"

"To marry him, Rosalie."

"Oh, Esme, it's only been a couple of weeks; that's awfully fast, don't you think?"

"Not really, no. Carlisle and I got married exactly five weeks after we met."

"That's where he gets it from, then." Rose mused.

"Gets what?"

"He told me he loved me not twenty-fours hours after we'd formally met."

"Well, that's as it should be. When you know, you know. More importantly, did you say it back?"

Who was this woman? She had known her for less than ten minutes and Rosalie was revealing everything to her. What was it about the Cullens?

"Yes, but not immediately."

"How long did you wait?" Esme asked, obviously amused. She knew a woman couldn't resist any of her boys for too long.

"Fifteen minutes, maybe less?"

Esme let her head fall back as she laughed.

"Wonderful, just wonderful. Well, now that we have that out of the way, where did you find that incredible dress?"


A/N

I don't know what it is about these two, but they bring out all kinds of hotness in me.

Reviews are like custom-made gowns.