Dos ~ Wrenches, 'Lisle, and C-notes
Ladies, I give you Viola Cornuta aka Miss Vi.
This is her baby and her first public collaboration on a fanfic(that she admits). She beta'd my last chapter on Kick the Tires. This is companion to chapter 6 titled Warning Flag and contains hot insight into the world of Esme and her 'Lisle. I was only too happy to let her take the reins since she does have a healthy affinity for The Original Mr. Cullen. Viola beta's for Annanabanana who is writing Rhapsody right now. Really great fic, so go check it out. She also is beta'ing Goldenmeadow's 25 prompted Portentous Tales. Vi is a juggernaut and really is one of the coolest women in the fandom.
Disclaimer - Stephenie Meyer owns all twilighted related characterizations. Mercedes Benz owns the sweet ass car in this installment of Victory Lane. - Miss Vi owns her spectacular thought process and firework fingers. I own some of the lemony sugar snacks displayed here.
Esme and her 'Lisle
===Carlisle===
Tired.
I was so tired. Mentally, certainly emotionally, if never physically. Keeping my two boys and their respective wives in line was all consuming lately. Not to mention Edward's sullen countenance draining me so severely at times that I wanted to run screaming into the night, dragging my ever-patient wife with me.
Now, this display from Bella's wolves promised refreshment. I found it merely amusing until I saw my Esme. My gorgeous, sensuous Esme, looking on quite breathlessly at the tableau of ostensibly human were-flesh laid out before us.
The human spectators still at the track were far from immune to the noisy delight expressed by the Quileute men and woman. Half-naked, they stretched and bent over their soap-streamed car, hoses and sponges flailing as they laughed and sang to their blasting music. My family's instinctive reaction was more worrisome. My sons stopped breathing and began gagging imperceptibly on solid lupine stench as it filtered through the strong smells of solvents, fuel and food at the track. Ugh, wet dog on top of that!
Rose and Alice tilted forward slightly, their chests rising quickly in tandem, nostrils twitching and eyelids flickering over each drenched member of the Wolf Racing crew. Esme stepped around to the front, moving at a speed which defied everything we tried to maintain in our human guises. Then she stood still and silent, inhumanly beautiful. My amusement flowed into anticipation.
Forcing my attention away from Esme, I glanced at Edward, as he peered mournfully at Bella. The girl looked indulgently at her crew's antics, yet turned slightly sick as she stiffened under Edward's narrowed eyes. "Bella, I think your guys are trying to get your attention," I interjected softly into the tension surrounding us. We needed to exhibit more human-like behavior instantly.
Startled, Bella said her goodbyes quietly and hurried back to her team, discomfited color high in her cheeks. Edward followed her every step with a steady stare, his expression as tense and focused as possible short of dropping to his hunting stance. I heard him whisper, "Walk a little slower, honey."
At my smothered chuckle Edward lowered his head briefly, relaxing his shoulders, then snapped up straight as I confided, "Yes, you did say that out loud. It's alright. Happens in the best of families. Just be thankful it was me standing nearest you, not your brothers."
Edward acknowledged my encouragement with a nod and stalked off. Poor kid, nothing like trying to walk casually with a hard-on. I went over to join Jasper and Emmett in the process of breaking down and tuning up the car. Rose flitted from shoulder to shoulder, pushing the boys aside whenever her patience was tested - which was every minute or so. Alice opened up a laptop nearby and accessed the spreadsheets showing what we had in stock and what we needed to order. She and Esme conferred efficiently, while Rose continued to bark instructions to everyone.
I leaned in to look at the laptop, twirling Esme's ponytail as it sprung from the back gap of her ball cap, and called to Jasper over the clangs and whirrs, "How's the patient feeling today?"
"Looking good, Dr. Dad. I think we can handle everything else. Your turn to keep your hands clean."
With the post-race routine winding down, and our cover of normality snapped back in place, I followed Esme while she swiftly sorted and stored the tools in the order commanded by Rosalie as head mechanic, engineer and master sergeant.
"Carlisle, this is so infuriating. A brand new wrench is missing; this has never happened before." My wife looked exceptionally stressed.
"Well, sweetie, maybe if you hadn't been so busy inventorying the skin tone and muscle groups on the wolves, you might have everything under control here."
Esme spun, again too quickly for the human eye, and hissed in my face, "Do not start with me, Carlisle. You know that is not where you want to go right now. And I wasn't inventorying a thing on those kids. I was eye-fucking each one of them and you know it."
"Go talk to Edward. You are in my way here, and he needs you and a bit of that calm compassion you pride yourself on. Rose is going to be even more hellacious than usual to be around if I don't get everything cleaned and put away now. And where the devil is that new wrench?"
Leaning in as though to kiss her cheek, I flicked the side of her jaw with my tongue. "All right Es, let me see what he has picked to pout about this time. Is it because Bella left, or is it because Bella may come back? I wonder what has Alice seen? In any case you and I will finish our inventory at the hotel." I tried to present gentle amusement in my current persona, yet gentle had nothing to do with my mood as I strolled off to find Edward. I certainly was not tired now. And, I certainly wasn't going to tell her that Bella had the wrench in her back pocket.
In all previous incarnations throughout our marriage, especially after the other mated couples joined us and Edward, we gradually adapted to the roles of mature foster parents of teenagers and young adults. Even if our recycled cover stories made Esme's and my youth clear, we still played the part of parents in public and relished the role of parents in private.
This time, though, we were peers with our other family members while on the race circuit. Our roles were redrawn by the tasks required to underwrite and race a stock car, and as crew and driver we took to heart our respective and enjoyable jobs.
The liberation for Es and for me was profound. No longer was I the idolized community doctor with a sweet homebody spouse raising a houseful of students. At last I was a young man with a young wife to the vast majority of humans who looked our way.
As beautiful as Rosalie and as fashion conscious as Alice, Esme had enjoyed a certain subtle rebellion against the girls as their mother figure. Her meticulously maintained dress and demeanor never stood out, no matter the teasing and encouragement of her daughters. She saved her flamboyant streak for me. Now surrounded by the shiny toys of our trade and outfitted in the head-to-toe camouflage of Team Masen ball-cap, polarized sunglasses and skintight jumpsuit, Esme strode onto the stage of our racing lifestyle with a vengeance.
I was used to admiring, even impassioned, glances directed my way; after almost four centuries my appeal to humans was as much a part of me as my scrupulously controlled bloodlust. What brought me up short as Masen Racing became established on the circuit, was the attention paid to my wife by the opposite sex. Not that I could fault them, I found her wildly impossible not to look at. He who is without sin...cast the first...Oh hell, who am I kidding? This glass house had had every single room in it christened over our many years. But by preference always privately.
What turned the corner was the day at Darlington when Esme walked up to our garage bay cuddling a small boy...
***
She has always had a penchant for small boys, having buried her own son soon after birth. This little one was sobbing and sticky-faced, obviously lost. On her heels burst up a flustered young man. From a distance I watched him reclaim his son, relief radiating off them both. Over and over he thanked Esme, never letting go of her hand. No wedding band. No wife or mother joined them. Pretty child, handsome man. Single father. Single hot dad. DILF. She glowed in a happy haze. I glowered in a jealous rage.
That day I lost my last claim to Calm Carlisle. I stalked over to my wife, gathered her by the waist, flew around back between the tour buses, pushed her up against the metal paneling, and razed and rent her jumpsuit from shoulders to knees. Mine was similarly shredded at the front fastening before I plunged deeply between her cream and heaven. We then took the next step to our burgeoning career as exhibitionists. I'm positive people walked by and noticed a couple getting more than a conversation on. They didn't linger.
"Good Samaritan once again, huh? Did he ask for your number? Did he invite you to join them? Did he ask if you were married?" Each huskily vehement question drove home my love as well as drove her body into the denting metal.
"Yes...he asked...Umm, oh yes, he did ask all that."
"And what did you tell this one? I know you like those pathetic needy dads. Every time you help them, they lap up every word you utter, every smile that belongs to me, only me." Acidic jealousy burned through my words. I couldn't help myself. She was mine. Mine to claim. Like I was right now.
"Told him, mmm...to be more care- uhhh -ful in a crowd...it's unlisted...no, hmm, thank you...and for more years than he could imagine."
There were no more words to be said. I continued to ram my hips between her silken legs and long-shaft into her sheath as she grasped me in a vice grip that would have put a pilates instructor to shame. Her arms wound around my neck as she held on through the hammering I delivered. It was rough, raging and wrathful.
Es was a sight to behold with her beechnut hair blazing out in a serpentine curtain. She growled low and menacingly, letting me know that she was gone and her inner furie had taken over.
Esme felt my urgency and answered my call with a savagery all her own. With her taut, begonia-pink tipped breasts bouncing up and down from our speed, I was momentarily distracted in my quest to dominate. My siren used that diversion to bite down with her glass-cutter teeth straight into the straining cords of my neck.
That did it. As she began greedily sucking my venom into her mouth, I began to spill deep inside her, triggering her own shatter. The bus, which belonged to one of the other drivers, shook and metal groaned where my hands were splayed out behind Esme's head. I had used it as counter-balance as I dipped deeper into her well giving her every last drop that I could wring out.
Esme released my neck with a sweep of her tongue, and I corralled her lips to mine in a bruising kiss. Once I let go of her luscious lips, I disentangled her limbs from mine, picked her up, and ran to our bus as fast as I could move. No human eye could have picked me up in their vision, not that I would have cared at the moment. I was Es's king, hook, line and golden sceptre. She was my Valkyrie, my Freya, my Venus.
***
Needless to say, the owners of that bus never did figure out what happened to their vehicle, and the clear hand prints embedded in the metal remained a mystery. After that we took to packing extra clothes when we spent time at any track, much as our kids did when they hunted.
Reluctantly leaving Esme, who continued to do Rose's less than gracious bidding with her smile firmly in place, I finally found Edward mindlessly dragging his hand through his hair in front of the window in his hotel room. That one gesture captured Edward's every mood. I first saw it in a hospital ward in 1918, just after his doomed, widowed mother combed his hair straight back off his forehead, as befitted a young gentleman, clinging to her role as loving caretaker in spite of her hypoxia and heartbreak. Her half-conscious boy shoved his trembling fingers through his sweat-slick hair the minute she left his side, mussing it again into the tousle before me today.
In his reincarnation torment, in his newborn frenzy, in his prodigal shame, in his lonely years, in his rare contentment, Edward's fingers in his hair were the barometer. My oldest friend and youngest child, his heart now was lightening, but his posture was tense. I stood beside him, maintaining my human characteristics of concerned father, and waited. He told me the full depth of his fears for balancing our habitual bloodlust with his new found Bella-lust, laced as it was with her blood's special draw. In addition, he had the traditional worries of any young man newly smitten.
"She's so young, Carlisle. She has her whole life, her whole racing career in front of her. She doesn't need a distraction, particularly one like me. And Wolf Racing Team, you know what that may mean! But to resist, I don't think I know how."
"Esme was sixteen when we first met. A very young, very child-like sixteen-year-old, still climbing trees. Look where we ended up. Get to know her. The right thing will happen for you and Bella. Mom and I are counting on it."
"We're heading out to hunt. Emmett has big plans." Edward smiled in anticipation; Emmett's eyes were never bigger than his stomach.
"Good, you'll feel better after."
===Esme===
My inventory was complete. The curtains, left open. The club chair, facing the open window. The candles, lit. The bed, turned down. My hair, brushed out. My body, nude. My shoes, strapped on. My husband, at the door. My man, seated. My lover, ready.
My 'Lisle gave me a look that stilled and seared time across my soul. His top lip lifted, accompanied by a snarl so deliciously feral, my faceted skin rippled as if goosebumps were trying to form. He looked so hungry, so indelibly sexy that, unbidden but welcomed, my thoughts wandered to time bygone...
***
It wasn't too long after Emmett had come to live with the family, and we had all moved to Hoquiem, just south of Forks. Carlisle had come home one day early from a hunting trip. No one was there but me, and he came rushing in the front door all in a tither.
"Quick, Esme, come see what Emmett and Rosalie have done now."
Exasperated, I put my Silver Screen magazine, which featured Jean Harlow on the cover, down to go outside to see what what damage our ox of a new son had done.
When I got outside there was no damage or anyone else in sight. Only a beautiful 1936 Black Widow-colored Mercedes 540K special Edition Cabriolet with the top down shining in the sun. It was curved in all the right places, much like Ms. Harlow. Chrome accents shone everywhere including the custom grill. That gleaming grill alone would have made me weep if I could have. I took my time touring around this finely German engineered piece of iron art. This was the fastest production car of our time. Rosalie and Edward both would drool once they returned to witness such a streamlined piece of magnificence. Cars were currently the only place those two met for civil conversation.
"Go sit in it. It's all yours," purred a silken voice behind me.
No need to tell me twice. Gleefully, I got in and sank in the plush grey leather. Carlisle stood next to me just outside the car door and dangled the keys above my head. I made a hasty grab just as he jerked them farther out of reach.
"Nuh, uh, uhhh. You have to pay the price first".
I pouted briefly, but I knew what the toll was.
"Just a sec. I'll be right back." I made a mad dash at vampiric speed up into the house. I applied a fresh layer of rhododendron-red lipstick, grabbed my favorite Hermes scarf, Foster Grant sunglasses and leather driving gloves and headed back down to the car. Stopping short, I raked my eyes over this amazing man and reveled at my good fortune that he had come into my life. Now he was standing there waiting for me next to a car that was almost prettier than him. Almost.
My 'Lisle held open the door, and I floated behind the wheel. The door shut with a smooth sound as melodic as any crooner's hit song. I slid the key home. The 180 horsepower engine ignited and treated my ears to a distinctive C-note whine from the exhaust blowers.
I let out a small squeek just as 'Lisle leaned over the top of me from his perch on the running board and planted a soul-searing kiss directly on my newly rouged lips. He nipped at my top lip and angled his head to deepen the kiss. As he thrust his tongue into my mouth ripples of desire coursed through my body. No one could kiss me like my man. No one ever would again. We stayed locked that way for several minutes until we were both panting with want.
"Well, that was exactly half the amount of payment I was looking for. Take it out and have fun. Don't be gone too long though, I intend to collect the other half once you get back." And, with that, he jumped off the vehicle and gave me a wink and a salute, bidding me a speedy farewell.
With my left foot toggling the clutch pedal and my right mashing on the gas, I shifted into first gear, and tore out of our gravel driveway with an enormous grin on my face.
***
"Es, come here, but take your time. I want to watch you."
God, yes! Slowly. Almost at a standstill in the beginning, I began to walk from the window in a model's gait towards the ferocious focus of my desire. Ha! Fierce this! Tyra's got nothing on me! As I pulled closer to the vee made by his legs, he held up one pleasure giving hand for me to stop.
"Turn. I want to watch you twirl for me now."
Loving the feel of his hot gaze upon my body, I lifted my arms above my head in a silent belly dancer's pose and sinuously began to turn for my perfect husband. When I was completely facing away from him, I looked back at him through the space between my upraised arm and my shoulder. With a sexy smile, I began to shimmy and gyrate, crouching low onto my very pretty, very expensive high heels, easing my knees out in a 'Y'. Carlisle hissed an approval as my hair and back rubbed up against his groin. While still facing away, I quickly snapped my legs upright, popping my ass in the air just eye-level with his face.
I stifled a giggle as he almost flew backwards out of the chair from my little maneuver. His lust-blackened eyes widened as I swiveled to my right and licked my leg from my ankle to mid calf. The chair began to creak and groan under the onslaught of Carlisle's death grip on the armrests. Instantly he was out of the top of his coverall and unzipped for my viewing, touching, tasting, riding pleasure. Oh yes sir!
I straightened, pivoted and moved forward until my legs bumped the seat. With one foot planted on the scrolled arm of the overstuffed chair, I dug the heel of my stiletto down into the upholstery of the poor, unsuspecting piece of furniture. Carlisle smiled widely, the full row of teeth he usually hid gleaming, as he followed the line of my leg from ankle to thigh. Flexing, I pushed forward and snapped the arm of the chair off completely and brought my foot down into a pile of stuffing, staples and shattered wood on the floor. I did the same with the other arm. Now the target of my attention was fully accessible. He grasped my waist, and I sank down where I needed to be and began undulating at his favorite pace. His low rumble flooded my ears.
Just then the door to our hotel room flew open and all five "children" tumbled into the room. Seven bodies froze solid, and I peered over Carlisle's bare shoulder to see Emmett beaming, Rose scowling, Alice goggle-eyed, Jasper slack-jawed and Edward with his back turned. The mood was definitely broken, for now.
Good thing I was still ensconced over Carlisle's glorious length, or they would have had even more to gawk at. I liked to keep that steel girder all to myself.
"Well well, what have we here? Mommy and Daddy, sending the old skin boat to tuna town. And, whoa, nice job with the chair, how did you manage to do that, Carlisle? I have a spool of caution tape, better run back and get it before housekeeping shows up." Emmett's voice echoed in the silent room, diminishing even more of the erotic charge around 'Lisle and me.
"I didn't do it. Esme did."
With that, I met the eyes of Rosalie and Alice and winked. I was obviously in this driver's seat. Rose did not change expression, but her head tilted slowly to one side, in tribute. Alice beamed down at my feet with a look of recognition and then took in the rubble surrounding them.
"Oh Esme, those shoes are hot! I knew you were going to buy the Italian ones we were looking at last week online. Did you get them in more than one color? I hope you didn't weaken the heels. We can get them fixed if you did. Maybe I can ask the hotel desk if they know of a reputable cobbler in town. I really should keep a professional shoe repair kit in my suitcases. Would you like me to take them now?"
"No!" Losing his last shred of patience, Carlisle blurted through clenched teeth, "Emmett, your business with us is what?"
"We need the extra keys, we are headed to..."
"I don't give a good God damn where you are going so long as you go immediately!"
His brief tantrum expended, Carlisle smiled into my eyes and murmured huskily, "Stay very still, sweetie. I want to try something." His hands slithered flat under my thighs to his trouser pockets bunched beneath me; he gently nudged and rocked me about but never quite pulled me off the stick shift. This maneuver was definitely one to develop further!
He pulled the keys out of one pocket and tossed them backwards over his head without looking. Emmett caught them easily. Alice and Rose started to tug their husbands out the door, following Edward who already had his hand on the knob. Emmett made a big fuss about meticulously putting the Do Not Disturb sign in place.
With the door finally closed and locked, I dipped my head to Carlisle's neck and nuzzled soothingly, rocking my hips. He looked down at his hand, working it quickly. Why is he not moving with me? Curious, I too looked down. He was texting with one hand frantically, while the other hand trailed up and down my spine delicately and tugged on the ends of my hair.
"Sweetie, um, I'm doing some of my best work here, and you are not paying attention. Why did you get your phone out of your pocket? I thought you were interested in my moves."
"Oh, I'm very interested, Esme. Keep it up. Squeeze a little tighter, umhmm, just like that."
"Why are you texting instead of thrusting?"
"I have daddy issues."
"Carlisle, your father has been dead for well over three centuries. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, at this point I don't think he has an iPhone."
"No, Es, I don't have issues with my daddy. I have issues with being a daddy."
"And you need to text someone about that?"
"I need to text the caretakers at the Galapagos villa. As soon as we get this situation with the Quileutes sorted out, you and I will be on a plane headed away from every person named Cullen, Masen, Hale, McCarty, Whitlock or Brandon until the Shootout in Sonoma next month."
"Oh, happy plans, 'Lisle. What should I pack?"
"Those shoes."
Leave Miss Vi some loves. She could use a bunch of stellar reviews for her first time out. Let her know what your fave parts were.
Personally, my favorite was the lap manuever where 'Lisle reached for the keys without unseating Es. Of course, the Mercedes scene was great too. I do love cars, especially vintage and muscle!
These are just purely self indulgent pieces of whimsical fun! The next chapter of Kick the Tires should be out sometime in the next week. So be tuned for it. Then another installment of Victory Lane will be coming too.
Oh, and look for Goldenmeadow's newest chapter of Rebelward Without a Cause. Miss Vi and I teamed up for that one too. It will be out this week. The link is on my profile.
Chicas, reviews will get you a ride on hot DILF Carlisle's crank shaft...