I am earning my M rating in this chapter. For some reason, I find that Emmett and Rosalie lend themselves to more explicit lemons, and more colorful language. Also, bear in mind that I don't know anything about cars. Thank goodness for the internet and 19 year old guys who love all things automotive...

Rosalie:

Emmett was looking bemused. "So...this is a Caterham Superlight R500..."

"Series 3," I patiently finished for him. "In Viper Blue," I added, reaching blindly for the socket wrench and missing, my fingers knocking it off its resting place. It clanked to the ground, skidding under the car with a metallic skitter.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, straightening up. Putting my hand under the front end of the car, I lifted it easily and pivoted it a couple of feet to the side. "Could you grab that for me, babe?"

Emmett obligingly came forward, picked up the now exposed wrench, and handed it to me, returning to his spot by the wall. His 'spot' generally being directly in front of me, so he could watch my breasts sway as I tightened a bolt or something, or directly behind me, so he could leer at my ass while I was bent over the engine of my latest toy. My latest toy in this case was a British race-car. I'd had the body delivered from England, and had built the rest from scratch. I was putting the finishing touches to the engine today, and couldn't wait to take this baby out on the road the minute she was ready.

"How fast does it go again?" he asked. For the hundredth time since I started on this project.

I pulled my head out from under the hood and turned to look at him with a frown. "Are you kidding me? How many times do I have to go over this? It's not like you could have possibly forgotten after the first time I told you."

He flashed me an engaging grin from his perch on the workbench. "Come on, Rose," he wheedled hopefully. "You know I love it when you talk car. It's incredibly hot."

Yes, I knew. He loved watching me work on cars, he loved fucking me on cars, he loved taking pictures of me draped over cars...any combination of me and vehicles turned Emmett on. His love for me combined with all things automotive was the only reason I was currently wearing bib overalls with nothing underneath. The front flap barely covered my nipples, and that was only if I was standing completely still. If he had his way, my hair would be unbound too, but that made working on cars difficult. So he had to be content with his second choice; my hair in a messy bun with tendrils escaping around my face and neck. The things we did for love.

I sighed and bent over again, arching my back and pushing my backside into greater prominence and got back to work, reciting the car's specs like I was having phone sex with him.

"The R500 weighs 506 kilograms and produces 263 brake horsepower with a heaving 177 pounds per foot of torque transmitted to the rear wheels," I recited in a breathy voice. "The Series 3 chassis flagship model blasts out 520bhp per ton and is capable of propelling itself from 0 to 60 miles per hour in 2.88 seconds, and has a top speed of 155 miles per hour."

I heard the whisper of fabric behind me and snuck a peek at Emmett from underneath my arm. He was shifting uncomfortably, tugging at the front of his jeans and biting his lip, his eyes glued to my denim covered rear. Smirking, I continued. "The performance of the R500 is controlled by race developed Avon CR500 tires and a suspension set up that includes weight reducing aero wishbones and fully adjustable dampers..." My description of the car's best features was interrupted when his hands fastened themselves around my hips and I yelped in surprise, not having heard him approach. He ground his crotch suggestively against me, rocking me forward slightly.

"Not now, Emmett," I admonished him sternly, reaching behind me to swat blindly in his general direction. "I'm working."

"Aw, come on Rosie, baby," he pleaded, running his big hands to my waist and along my ribcage, slipping them inside the bib of my overalls. Cupping by breasts, he thumbed my nipples roughly. "I want you, now. Like this," he rasped, punctuating the last word with a hard thrust.

I bit my lip, ignoring the heat blooming between my legs with difficulty, and pulled his hands off me in a burst of impatience. "You can have me later, like this," I snapped. "I'm busy right now."

He completely ignored me, his hands returning immediately, like magnets to their opposite pole, one of them sliding down my stomach and heading south to the Promised Land. "Emmett," I said weakly, tugging at his encroaching arm. "What part of 'I'm busy' don't you understand?" I didn't sound remotely convincing, and knew it was probably only a matter of time before I gave in. Especially if he went all caveman on me, which, given the level and persistency of his groping, seemed to be the direction we were heading in. My will to resist was rapidly being eroded, which was really starting to piss me off.

Fortunately for my sanity (and Emmett's family jewels), a sudden commotion from outside distracted us. "Edward! Don't go after her!" we heard Alice cry out urgently.

I turned in Emmett's arms and we looked at each other. "Something must be up with Bella," he said, concern lacing his voice. He let me go immediately and headed quickly for the door.

"When isn't something up with Bella," I sniped under my breath, turning back to the car and sticking my head under the hood again. "Bella, Bella, Bella. It's always about Bella."

"You coming, babe?" Emmett called from inside the house when I didn't follow.

With an exasperated snort, I stuck the wrench into my pocket, pulled on a sweatshirt, and followed the sounds of voices to see what all the fuss was about this time.

The family, minus Bella, was gathered outside on the terrace surrounding a very distraught Edward. Apparently, Bella had gotten a little too aggressively hands-on with him, and he had tightened up like a virgin at a frat party and tried to fight her off. Like he wasn't totally turned on. What a drama queen. I rolled my eyes and was preparing to get back to my car when his last words suddenly registered.

"...accused her of raping me," he moaned, dropping his head into his hands.

I froze.

Oh no, he didn't.

Vibrating with anger I spun around, marched right back toward the terrace, out the doors, and straight for my brother.

"You did what?" I hissed icily, coming to a stop right in front of him, a little closer than was strictly polite.

"Easy, Rose," Emmett murmured, appearing beside me and putting a steadying hand on my arm.

I shrugged him off, unwilling to be placated. "No. I want to know where a man gets off telling the love of his life, his mate, that she's raping him. Christ, Edward, how could you?" He flinched as if I had struck him, but I just plowed on. "And where is she, anyway?"

"She ran off," Emmett supplied helpfully. "Alice saw that if Edward chased after her she would have tried to escape him, which would have ended in disaster. But if no one went after her, she would come to her senses quickly on her own and come back of her own volition." He smiled and shrugged, scratching his stomach absently. "Cliff's Notes version," he added.

"She's already on her way back," Alice piped up cheerfully, unfazed by all the drama going on around her. She sat perched on the table, swinging her legs and looking carefree, like she knew how it was all going to end. Which, come to think of it, was probably the case.

"Good. Then nobody needs me here anymore." I turned on my heels and headed back inside, eager to get back to that beautiful 2 liter Ford Duratec engine. Not surprisingly, I barely made it through the doors before Alice stopped me.

"Rosalie, wait," she said, hopping off the table.

I made a face and turned around again. I'd never be finished before sundown at this rate. "What?" I snapped.

She gave me a pointed look that I couldn't be bothered to try to and decipher. "Just…wait," was all she said.

On the verge of losing my temper, I caught sight of Bella hovering just within the tree line at the edge of our lawn, looking stricken. An unexpected surge of sympathy for her welled up inside me and gave I Edward a dirty look, which he didn't notice, because the world beyond Bella had ceased to exist in that moment. Bella, however, seemed to be avoiding looking at him, even going so far as to flinch when he spoke her name.

The next moment was fraught with…nothing. We all stood around like idiots until finally Edward, unable to resist, spoke her name again, the pleading note in his voice painfully clear. To my horror, she shot toward me like she'd been fired out of a cannon, throwing her arms around me and squeezing me almost to the point of discomfort.

What the hell?

I stood there stiffly for a moment, and then tentatively put my arms around her, patting her clumsily. She was shivering intermittently, clearly traumatized, and my empathy for her increased. I remembered only too well what it was like to be a newborn, when even the most insignificant of things could be blown out of all emotional proportion, and tried to keep that in mind as I dealt with her.

"Jesus, Bella, you're soaked," I muttered, pushing her away and looking her up and down. "And filthy," I added, coming to a sudden decision. "Come on, let's go get you out of those rags."

"Dry yourself as best you can, and put those on," Esme said, dropping a pair of flip flops at her feet and handing her a towel, using another one to dry her hair. "I don't want you tracking dirt into the house. You have half the forest stuck to your feet, honey," she chided her.

When Bella had cleaned herself up a little, I led her to my bedroom and through to the bathroom. For some unknown reason, she had come to me; the least I could do was provide her with a safe haven on neutral territory, somewhere she could pull herself together until she was ready to face Edward again. She stood, looking lost, the confusion and misery still clear on her face while I ran her a bath in the huge tub.

Due to our heightened sense of smell, bath products could be problematic for us. Even unscented products smelled of the ingredients they were made from, so I created my own blends by adding a drop or two of essential oils. This resulted in a pleasantly scented product that was better suited to us than those overpowering commercial ones. My favorite scents were rose or jasmine. For Bella, though, something calming was in order, so I reached for the crystal decanter containing foaming bath oil blended with lavender and freshened by a tiny bit of orange blossom. I poured a small amount under the running water, enveloping the both of us in a pleasantly scented steam.

"This is a safe haven, Bella," I said, replacing the bottle on the ledge. "You can stay in here and in my room as long as you want. You won't have to face Edward until you are ready." Taking a couple of towels out of the cabinet, I placed them on the sink for her.

"You know what happened," she said dully.

I turned to face her. She was just standing there, looking positively haggard and making no move to undress. "More or less," I replied noncommittally. "Now get in, I will be back later if you need to talk." Relieved to be escaping her aura of misery, I closed the bathroom door behind me, leaning against it for a moment, lost in thought.

Part of me was annoyed for letting myself be drawn into the maelstrom that was Edward and Bella. But I now recognized that my maternal instincts had been awakened when she clung to me, and I was simply not capable of denying her my comfort and help. But were my motivations rooted solely in a desire to help her, or were they driven in part by a need to lash out at Edward for his long ago rejection of me? Sure, he'd been an ass in his handling of Bella, but that wasn't exactly unusual for my moody brother. Why was my reaction different this time?

The thought that my lingering resentment toward him might have played a part in my stepping in to take care of Bella was unsettling, but I quickly discarded it, not willing to question myself. I wasn't usually prone to self-analysis. More often than not, it ended up with me acknowledging that I was more flawed than I generally cared to admit. I knew I was far from perfect, but didn't like admitting it to myself.

Shaking off my overly introspective thoughts, I stripped out of my work clothes and reached for the silk nightgown lying on the divan. The soft material whispered down over my skin, caressing my curves like a lover's hand, clinging seductively to my breasts, waist, and hips. I admired my shapely body in the full length mirrors of my walk-in closet, turning this way and that, delighting in the way the plunging back and criss-crossed spaghetti straps set off the alabaster sweep of my back.

I was utterly gorgeous, and saw no reason to be falsely modest about it. The family teased me about my perceived self-absorption sometimes, so I really only truly let down my guard when I was alone and could enjoy my beauty without fear of being judged. When I was with Emmett, I enjoyed myself through his eyes, basking in his appreciation, love, and desire for me. I closed my eyes for a moment, running my hands over my silk-covered breasts and hips, imagining they were his hands. Reaching up, I pulled the rubber band out of my hair, watching with a small smile of satisfaction as it spilled down my back in shiny golden waves. Fluffing it up a little, I pulled on a matching robe and left my room, heading straight for Emmett's man-cave.

He was sprawled on his black leather sofa with his long legs stretched out in front of him, playing a video game on his obscenely huge flat panel TV, but he paused it the moment I floated in. His eyes wandered hungrily over my body for a moment before meeting mine, concern for his little sister replacing the lust for me in his gaze.

"How is she?" he asked, holding out his hand to me.

I slipped my hand in his and let him pull me down on the sofa beside him, one leg folded underneath myself. "She's shaken up, but she'll be ok, all things considered."

"All things considered?" he queried, shifting to lean against the overstuffed arm of the sofa and pulling me between his propped up legs.

I curled up against his chest with a contented sigh, tucking my head underneath his chin as he soothingly ran his fingers through my hair and down my spine. "I don't think she's cut out for this life," I mumbled distracted by his light touch, my hand fisting over a handful of his sweater. "She should have stayed human. I still can't believe she threw away her chances at a normal life."

There was a pause while Emmett seemed to be contemplating something. "Rosie…did you ever consider the fact that maybe Bella never wanted a normal life?" he suggested gently. "Not everyone wants to have a husband and children, you know."

I knew this in theory, but I didn't really believe it, at least not the children part. Human beings were hardwired to want to procreate, and I found this to be true of women especially. It was evolution, pure and simple. I firmly believed that Bella was too young to know what she wanted, and that there would come a day when she realized how much she wanted children. I just hoped she didn't regret her decision to become a vampire when it happened.

"…a lot like Edward in that respect," he finished.

I frowned, suddenly catching up with what he was saying. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He was running his hand up and down my arm. "I said you are a lot like Edward in that respect. He never asked Bella what she wanted either. He just figured he knew what was best for her and went with it, never even thinking to ask her for her opinion."

Still raw from my earlier musings about Edward, I stiffened in annoyance and tried to pull out of Emmett's embrace. He tightened his grip, refusing to release me. "Hey, don't get mad at me," he said firmly, reaching for my chin and tilting my face up so he could look me in the eye. "I'm just expressing my opinion, which by the way, I am entitled to."

Offended by the comparison I struggled harder, and he finally let me go. I surged off the sofa, standing over him angrily. "I am nothing like Edward," I hissed.

Emmett held my gaze intently as he stood as well, towering over me and looking pretty fired up himself, forcing me to take a step back. "In this respect, you are," he countered sharply. "Like Edward, you thought you knew what was best for Bella, and like him, you also made decisions based on what you thought was best for her. Just accept it, Rosalie. You may not like it, but it's the truth."

I was so incensed that my hand flew out with no conscious thought on my part, but he caught it long before it impacted with his face.

"Watch it," he said sharply, squeezing my wrist in warning. "You know I have no problem with belting you right back."

Very true. Emmett treated me like an equal in all ways, which included retaliating in kind if I slapped him. He had never struck a human woman, but as I was a vampire, and therefore unbreakable, he felt justified in giving exactly as good as he got. Surprisingly, given my past, I was ok with this. Fair is fair, after all. I rarely struck him in anger anyway, though some form of physical violence was occasionally foreplay for us. Emmett knew the difference though, and never let a blow delivered in anger slide.

Huffing, I twisted my wrist free and flounced out of the room, embarrassed by my loss of control. It sounded like Bella was wrapping up her bath, so I headed toward her room to get her something comfortable to wear and ran smack into Edward. He was standing outside her door, wearing ear buds and listening to very loud music, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.

I stopped in front of him, my posture tense and unfriendly. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked a little more harshly than I intended.

He pulled the ear buds out. "I am waiting for Bella, and listening to music so she has the privacy to talk to whoever she wants without my overhearing," he said quietly.

There was hope for him yet. "I swear, Edward, I could beat you to gravel," I murmured reproachfully, softening a little.

He looked even more stricken than Bella did. "I would probably let you. I'm sorry, Rosalie. Your past…everything…I…I am so sorry."

As clumsy as his apology was, I knew it came from the heart. He was genuinely horrified by the impact his careless words had had. But I needed to have my say. "You came of age during a time when women had virtually no rights, Edward. You should know better than most that there is way, way more to rape than someone using their superior strength to have sex with you against your will. It's about…it's…" I stopped when I realized that my emotions on the subject were too close to the surface to debate it today. "Your words hurt me too, you know," I finished quietly. "They trivialize what happened to me."

"I know," he whispered, looking down at the floor. "I hope some day you can forgive me."

I surprised myself and him by taking a step closer and pulling him into a hug which he gratefully returned. "I already have," I murmured, then more loudly, "Now put those back on, and get out of my way. I need to get Bella something to wear. And you might want to start thinking of a way to make this up to her."

He stuck the buds back into his ears and turned on the music again. "I have done nothing else since it happened, Rosalie," he said, smiling wanly.

Bella was just coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel when I walked in and handed her the clothes I had picked out for her. She took the pile of clothes with a mumbled thank you and ducked back into the bathroom to change. I busied myself at the vanity, watching her covertly when she came out again. She moved tentatively around my room, observing her surroundings through curious ruby eyes before making a beeline for the books on my nightstand the moment she noticed them.

"This is a strange combination of books to be reading," she commented, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"I am only reading The Prophet and the math book right now," I explained, pulling another tissue out of the dispenser. "Emmett's reading the bodice-ripper."

"Emmett is reading this!?" She seemed absolutely floored. "I didn't figure him for the type," she continued when I replied in the affirmative.

"He's not. He's reading it because he wants to get to know me better." I said, explaining his reasoning. Turning back to the vanity, I smiled and picked up the brush, sweeping it through my hair and losing myself in daydreams about my man.

Emmett may come across as loud and crude sometimes, but he was the most thoughtful and caring of men. This wasn't the first time he had immersed himself into something I enjoyed, hoping to get into my head and find out what made me tick. He had told me once, in jest, that a husband's role was one of humble service. Though he was being facetious, it was actually a relatively accurate description of the way acted toward me. He was no means a doormat; he just genuinely loved taking care of me, and doing whatever was in his power to make me happy. He reminded me of a sunflower, with me as his sun, the center of his universe. I couldn't dream up a better husband if I tried for a thousand years.

As I pondered my deep love for him, I suddenly saw Bella's decision to become a vampire in a very different light. When I'd been changed my only other choice, had I been allowed to choose, would have been death. Knowing what I knew after being turned, I would have chosen death in a heartbeat, without any hesitation. But that was before Emmett came into my life. Once he'd been added into the equation, I was forced to admit to myself that I'd have chosen to become a vampire just to be able to stay with him.

I had faulted Bella for making a choice I would have made too, had I been in her situation. This was crystal clear to me now, and the knowledge absolutely floored me. In light of this new insight into myself, I was forced to reexamine Emmett's contention that I was just as guilty as Edward of imposing my beliefs on Bella. He may have just been right, which really shouldn't surprise me. Emmett really did know me better than I knew myself. He and Bella might be owed an apology.

My epiphany was interrupted when Bella sat down behind me and timidly started playing with my hair, apparently fascinated by its color and texture. Seeing an opportunity for us to bond, I handed her the brush and asked her if she would take over for me. She accepted the brush with a look of surprise, and I shifted on the bench so that my back was to her. We sat in companionable silence for a bit while Bella brushed my hair carefully.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" I finally asked, turning my head slightly to look at her reflection in the mirror. If I didn't coax her into talking, we'd likely be here all night, and I really wanted to take the Caterham out for a spin with Emmett sometime in the near future. Her eyes met mine and then slid away again, as she fiddled nervously with the bottles and jars on my vanity.

I was starting to get a little impatient with her continued silence. I understood that what had happened was a big deal for her, especially given her newborn state, but I didn't understand why she was so reluctant to talk about it. I didn't want to push her though, so I searched for a safe subject of conversation. We didn't have much in common, and I really had no idea what to say. So when I found out that Alice hadn't actually taught her how to put on the make-up she'd been wearing, I realized that I had discovered the perfect girl-time activity to ease her into unburdening herself to me.

I had to admit I really enjoyed teaching Bella the finer points of make-up for the undead, so much so that I felt uncharacteristically moved to give her a set of make-up and brushes of her own. She seemed very touched and grateful, which filled me with an unfamiliar warmth. I was forced to acknowledge that maybe the thaw had at last set in, and I was warming up to my little sister.

"How much do you already know?"

Finally. "Everything," I said, "from Edward's point of view anyway. I'd like to hear your side, though. He says you got rough and he accused you of trying to rape him."

She flinched like I'd struck her, and looked like she was going to be sick. Why?

Whoa.

"Surely you aren't naive enough to think that what you did was attempted rape," I snapped incredulously.

She jutted out her chin, glaring at me. "Let's see..." she said sarcastically. "I used my superior strength to overpower him, and tried to have sex with him against his will. He said no repeatedly, Rosalie. He tried to fight me off. I didn't stop. Sounds like attempted rape to me."

Oh. My. God. She actually believed it. She really was that naïve. Either that or she had a martyr complex to rival Edward's. And that was saying something, because sometimes Edward seemed to cherish his suffering almost as much as he cherished Bella.

"Bella, I don't need to have been there to tell you that what went on between the two of you had nothing to do with rape. You got frisky, you got carried away, Edward couldn't control the situation the way he usually does, so he said something stupid to stop you..."

She surged to her feet, angry. "You've got to be kidding me! You can't seriously blame all of this on Edward!"

"Don't be silly," I snapped, reaching for her and yanking her back down to the bench with an audible thump. "You're both equally to blame in this. It was bound to happen. In fact, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

She looked completely confused.

No point in waiting for the coin to drop. "Your dominance and submission games," I pointed out.

"What?" she squeaked, almost jumping up again. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "You dominate Edward sexually," I explained, trying to be patient with her. "You know, pin him down, have your wicked way with him...you dominate him. He submits to you. For now, anyway. Your sex life is going to get real interesting when you lose your strength," I added as an afterthought, smirking and giving her a knowing look.

She looked like she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Enjoying her embarrassment just a little too much, I continued. "Do you guys have a safeword?"

"A wh…what?" she stammered, her eyes widening.

"A word Edward can use if he wants you to stop whatever it is you're doing to him."

Now she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

"I'll take that as a no. Then let me ask you this. How would Edward tell you if he wanted you to stop?"

She seemed to be grasping for something to say and coming up empty.

"If you are not going to have a safeword, then 'no' always has to mean 'no'," I continued.

She looked down at her lap, hiding her embarrassment behind a curtain of hair. "But…he's said no before and didn't mean it…" she mumbled.

I took pity on her. She was inexperienced, and it was unreasonable of me to expect her to understand exactly what I was talking about. Up until now, she had no idea that there was a name for what she and Edward were doing, and rules that went along with those kinds of games. Those two really needed to talk more. "Hence the need for some way for Edward and you to tell each other when you want the other to stop," I said gently, sweeping the hair out of her face and over her shoulders. "Now why don't you go out there and talk things through with him? The poor sap is waiting for you."

"No!" she yelped, standing up. "Not yet. I am too embarrassed." She let herself fall backward onto the bed, covering her face with her hands and groaning. "I don't think I will ever be able to face him," she moaned.

There was only so much I could take, and I was reaching the limits of my goodwill and patience. "My God, Bella, you and Edward are such drama queens!" I snapped, standing up. "I can't believe you have both made it this far together. You are as bad as he is with the endless guilt! He is wallowing out there, you are wallowing in here…get together and talk about it already!"

"I will, I will…just…not yet. I need to…I want to…" she stuttered, wringing her hands nervously.

"Oh, for the love of lipstick," I muttered under my breath. "Hide out in here for now if you must," I said more loudly. "You are going to have to face him eventually, you know, if only when you leave this room. I'll not have you in here indefinitely." Striding to the door, I left her alone with her thoughts.

I stood in the darkened hallway for a moment, listening to the sounds of the household as the family settled into its nighttime activities. Only Edward stood motionless, absorbed in his thoughts or the music he was listening to, still endlessly waiting for Bella to emerge from her self-imposed isolation.

I had some thinking to do, and under normal circumstances, I would have hidden out in my room, my sanctuary, to do it. Unfortunately my sanctuary was currently someone else's, so I headed for my other port in the storm: Emmett.

His door was open and I paused in the entryway, admiring him silently from afar. He was standing at his desk with one knee resting on his chair, and was bent over the surface, propped up on his elbows. I watched as he muttered to himself, frowning down at the schematics for his most recent orange cannon (series five or six, I had lost track), shuffling through the pages, and making the occasional correction in pencil. It was fascinating to watch him work. Regardless of what he was doing – even if it was building something as frivolous and pointless as an orange cannon made out of PVC pipe and a sparkplug - he put all his focus and concentration into it, which was probably why he had yet to notice me standing there. There was nothing sexier than Emmett in geek-mode.

I let my eyes roam over his body. He was wearing a wheat-colored cashmere v-neck sweater that seemed to be almost painted onto his powerful shoulders and chest. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt the steel of his muscles beneath the velvety softness of the cashmere in my memory. Opening them again, I let my gaze continue its journey down the slightly arched slope of his back, to the patch of bare skin between his sweater and the faded jeans that hung low on his hips and clung to his butt and thighs. Unbidden, an image of those hips thrusting against me filled my mind, and my lips parted over a sharp exhale.

Hearing this, he finally looked up and noticed me. "Any changes?" he asked, tossing the pencil aside and straightening up.

There was a certain reserve to him left over from our earlier altercation. We definitely needed to talk about it, but not now. I'd had enough drama and self-reflection to last me a long time. Right now, I just felt like pretending it had been a regular day. Pushing aside my gloomy thoughts I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around him and laying my cheek on his chest in silent apology, hoping it would be enough for now. "We talked, and I gave her a few things to think about. She's still holed up in my room refusing to come out, though. I don't know what else to do."

He enfolded me in his all-encompassing embrace without hesitation and rubbed his hands up and down my back, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "You did really well taking care of her, Rose. I think you've done all you can, though. The rest is up to Bella. I'll go and look in on her myself, see if I can do anything to help."

"I think she might like that," I said gratefully, reaching up to place a kiss on his beautiful lips. "I'll be working on the car if you need me. I was hoping we could go for a spin in it together, as soon as it's done," I continued, feeling uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden.

He looked down at me with a leering grin and a gleam in his eyes. "Sounds like the perfect opportunity to take some more dirty pictures of you." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I let out a shaky laugh, marveling at how good Emmett was at defusing me and putting me at ease again. He always knew exactly how to take me out of my head. Just thinking about all the things he did, all the ways in which he compromised for me, got me all choked up. Bella and Edward's emotiveness was clearly rubbing off on me. Pulling out of his arms, I rolled my eyes to disguise my emotional fragility and elbowed him in the side as I left the room with a mumbled "I'm going to work on the car."

I was already downstairs before realizing that I was still wearing an expensive silk nightgown and robe, not the best thing to be working on an engine in. Fortunately, the engine in question was brand new, and therefore clean. Besides, I didn't want to go back to my room to change, possibly intruding on Emmett and Bella's talk. I didn't turn on the lights, preferring to work in the cool darkness of the cavernous garage. Visibility was not a problem, and the darkness had a soothing quality that was conducive to quiet meditation. Working on cars was a calming exercise, freeing my mind to lose itself in the intricate details of putting together an engine. The next few hours it took to finish the Caterham were spent in peaceful contemplation as I shut the problems of the day out of my mind and forgot them for a while.

I had just finished filling up the tank with gas when I heard Emmett calling my name. Screwing the cap back on the tank, I quickly put away my tools and headed back upstairs. I heard him lecturing Bella as I neared the room. She still didn't want to come out, but apparently Emmett had decided he was going to make her. Or more to the point, he was going to make me make her. As I passed by Edward, I hit him on the arm to get his attention and pulled the ear buds out of his ears. "You don't need those anymore," I said. "She's coming out in a few minutes, whether she wants to or not."

Striding into the room I found Emmett looking determined, and Bella looking mutinous. "So, what, you're both going to physically drag me out of here?" she said with a touch of newborn belligerence.

"Only if you don't get your ass out there under your own steam," I replied sternly, marching to the side of the bed closest to her, ready to haul her off it if necessary. "So, what's it to be?"

"You said I could stay here as long as I wanted," she muttered, reluctantly moving to stand up.

"I changed my mind," I said, tapping my foot. "Now, up. And don't even think about making a run for it, either."

Her lips twitched in amusement, and I knew the ordeal was over. She may not want to face Edward yet, but she seemed to realize that it was time. I ushered her out of the room, Emmett following closely behind us.

Bella froze when she and Edward caught sight of each other. I couldn't see her face, but I figured she probably looked almost as emo as Edward, who at that moment was looking positively Byronic. The atmosphere crackled with tension as he stared at her with a plethora of emotions playing across his features. Just when I wondered if they would stand there long enough to take root, Bella shot towards Edward, whose arms parted like automatic doors to receive her. Turning, I gently urged Emmett back into my room to give them some privacy.

My hands to his chest, I pushed him against the door, reaching up to lightly kiss him. "The car is gassed up and ready to go," I whispered against his lips. "I am going to take a bath, slip into something sexy, and then we can take her for a spin."

A slow grin spread over his face. "I'll be waiting," he growled, turning me and giving me a gentle push in the direction of the bathroom. I sashayed across the room, throwing him a sexy look over my shoulder, before disappearing into the bathroom.

I took my time relaxing in the hot, scented water. Emmett had gone out to the garden to test his orange cannon, and by the sound of it, was receiving unsolicited advice from Jasper. By the time I was standing inside my closet picking out an outfit to drive Emmett crazy in, their lively discussion had degenerated into a heated argument over reducer couplings and muzzle velocity, their angry rants interspersed with loud bangs as they took turns shooting oranges into the trees to illustrate their point. Hoping they wouldn't come to blows before I was able to whisk Emmett away, I blow-dried my hair into a wild swirl and dressed quickly, applying minimal make up and strapping on my heels.

I had pushed the Caterham out of the garage and into the driveway, and was heading for the garden when the boys' argument ended abruptly. The reason became clear when I reached the terrace. The wind had shifted, and the faint sound of Bella's muffled screams was being carried toward us by the wind. By their tenor, it was clear that Edward was giving her the shafting of a lifetime.

"Dayum," Jasper said, sounding impressed, his southern accent deepening.

"Way to go, Edward!" Emmett cheered, pumping his fist into the air, the idiot. Suddenly, he got that gleam in his eye that always appeared when he had just had a very bad idea. "Hey, Jazz," he said gleefully, "let's…"

Now seemed like a great time to make my presence known. "Oh no you don't, Emmett. Whatever it is, no. You leave them alone." I interrupted firmly, stepping out onto the terrace.

He turned toward me and froze, looking me up and down slowly, his eyes wide.

Yeah, I know. I look spectacular.

I was wearing the briefest of little black chiffon dresses that clung to me in all the right places, the slightly flared hem falling barely an inch below my ass. Underneath, I wore nothing but an almost non-existent thong. Black suede gladiator sandals with dangerously high stiletto heels completed the outfit.

Smirking, I held up my hand, Emmett's digital camera dangling off one finger. "It's you, me, and the Caterham, babe. Let's go, we're wasting time. I look best in the early morning light, and we've only got about half an hour until dawn."

Emmett's jaw dropped. Flustered, he accidentally discharged his cannon, startling himself in the process and sending an orange flying through the open window to land with a loud splat on the living room wall. Esme cried out angrily from within the house, shaking him out of his lust-induced trance. He shoved the cannon into Jasper's hands without taking his eyes off mine and came straight for me, stopping only long enough to throw me over his shoulder before tearing around to the front of the house. When we got to the car, he swung me down into his arms and deposited me unceremoniously behind the wheel before vaulting over the hood and cramming himself into the passenger seat. It was a very tight squeeze, but he was clearly more interested in what would happen when we reached our destination, wherever that may be.

Pulling a silk scarf from between my breasts, I tied my artfully tousled hair back, knowing that it was a largely futile gesture and that by the time we got to where we were going I would look like I had just rolled out of bed after a night of being ridden hard and put up wet.

Now came the moment of truth. Despite the fact that I never made mistakes when it came to cars, the first time I started one that I had built from the ground up was always nerve-wracking. I took a deep breath, ran my fingers reverently up and down the steering wheel for good luck, waggled the fob on the dash, and hit the starter button twice. The engine caught with an explosive boom, and the Caterham roared to life. "Would you just listen to that," I whispered, awed at the restrained power contained in that sound.

Emmett was underwhelmed. "It sounds like a car, Ro," he said, looking nervously back at the house. "Now, could we go? I think Esme is coming for me."

I pulled the gearbox lever toward me and it clunked into first. "A car?" I said haughtily, in my best Lady Bracknell voice. "This is no mere car. That sound is pure race-car, you philistine."

The Caterham shot forward. Unprepared, Emmett was jerked backward with a grunt. Short-shifting through second and into third, I accelerated, the revs rising rapidly as we shot down the road, Esme's cry of "Emmett Cullen! I told you not to point that thing at the house! You get back here this minute and clean up your mess!" fading as we tore away from the house.

We raced along the winding woodland roads through the milky pre-dawn light, the power building quickly as the revs inched toward the 4000rpm range. I didn't want to push her any harder, not on her first outing, and certainly not under the current road conditions. The roads were still wet, and though the Caterham usually took corners like it was on rails, it had way more power than grip. I didn't want this outing to be her last.

Dawn had broken by the time I pulled off the road at one of the more secluded look-out points. "How's that for a backdrop?" I said, indicating the gorgeous view with a toss of my head and handing Emmett the camera.

We were overlooking a wooded valley painted in the acid green shades of spring, deeply shadowed where the misty morning light hadn't reached yet. The sun was rising behind us, and when it cleared the trees it would cast us in a beautiful golden light, setting our hair and skin on fire. I got out of the car, pulling the scarf off and fluffing up my windswept hair, and perched on one of the front wheels striking a classic Vargas girl pose; legs pressed together and crossed at the ankles, hands behind my head and my chest pushed out.

"That's my girl," Emmett praised me, digging the camera out of his pocket and starting to snap pictures. I shifted every few seconds, my poses getting increasingly risqué under his expert direction. The more risqué they got, the more turned on I became. I knew that with every pose he was directing me closer and closer to the position he wanted me in when he finally took me.

It wasn't happening fast enough for my taste, so I took matters into my own hands.

The nose of the car was narrow enough that I was able to straddle the tip. I bent over, bracing myself on my hands and arching my back, pushing my bottom out, my dress riding up and exposing the lower swell of my cheeks.

I heard Emmett's intake of breath behind me. "God, Rose…yes…" he rasped. "Pull your dress all the way up for me, baby."

Without straightening, I reached behind myself and pulled the dress slowly up to my waist. The camera continued to click.

"Your panties," he continued hoarsely. "Down. Quickly."

Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my thong, I pulled it down as far as it would go, which given that my legs were spread wide, was only to about mid thigh.

"Damn, that's a fine ass," he muttered to himself, moving up behind me and slapping it appreciatively. He ran his hand lasciviously over the swell of my backside and to the juncture of my thighs, pushing two fingers inside me without preamble. Startled, I jumped, my squeak of surprise followed immediately by a drawn out moan as he started reaming me with his fingers. I let my head drop, hair pooling on the hood of the car, and I reached between my legs to touch myself.

"Hands on the hood," he growled playfully, removing his hand and smacking my ass smartly.

I put my hand back down, and he reinserted his fingers, hooking them inside me and forcing a short scream from between my lips. "Emmett, please," I moaned petulantly, desperate for release.

"All in good time, babe," he chuckled darkly. "Just let me have my fun. I deserve it for the day I'm going to have when Esme gets her hands on me. I see chores in my future."

"That's lovely, 'Alice'," I gasped, getting impatient, "but if you don't fuck me soon, I'm going to dismember you."

"Patience, Rosalie," he retorted calmly, refusing to be moved. "I'm the one setting the pace today, and right now, I want to enjoy the visuals. It's a guy thing. Don't rush me."

I bit my lip and moaned again, squirming and shifting on my feet as Emmett took his sweet time toying with me. Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to hold my tongue a moment longer, the pressure of his fingers disappeared only to be replaced by an even greater pressure as he gripped my hips and entered me forcefully and without warning. Wasting no time, he began to thrust immediately, his hips smacking against my ass.

He slid one hand up along my spine to between my shoulder blades. "Get down on your elbows, babe," he panted, guiding me down with a gentle pressure to my back.

I obligingly got into position, my head now lower than my hips, and he returned his hand to my waist, pulling me hard against himself and grunting with every thrust. The exquisite friction created as he slid in and out of me was almost unbearably pleasurable, and I started crying out lustily every time he drove himself into me as deeply as he could.

Emmett didn't make love. He fucked. This was not to say that he was crude, selfish, or in any way unschooled in the ways of pleasing a woman. On the contrary, he'd learned a great deal over the decades, and was more skilled than any man had a right to be. It was just that when he made love to me, he did it with such vigor and unbridled enthusiasm that "fucking" was simply the best word to describe it.

I had been very close to climaxing when he inexplicably withdrew, letting go of me. Straightening, I rounded on him angrily, and had just started ranting about his timing when he snaked an arm around my waist and yanked me flush against him. He threaded the fingers of his other hand into my hair, cupping the back of my head and immobilizing it.

"Shut your yap, Rosalie," he said, glaring at me before shutting it for me with a punishing kiss. I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach, and ground myself against it, moaning into his mouth. Jerking, he released me with a sharp hiss. He reached for the straps of my dress and pushed them off my shoulders, freeing my breasts and letting the dress pool at my waist.

"Those panties need to come off," he said, dropping into a squat to slide them the rest of the way down my legs and helping me step out of them. When he was standing before me again, he held the balled-up scrap of lace to his nose and inhaled deeply, letting out an appreciative groan before tucking it in his pocket. Even more aroused, if that was even possible, I freed my arms hurriedly from the straps of my dress and twined them around his neck as he lifted me up, palming my thighs and hooking my legs around his hips.

His aim dead on, he plunged right back inside me, fusing us together. "Lean back," he demanded. "I want your shoulders resting on the hood." He cupped my ass, supporting me as I leaned back until my head and shoulders came to rest against the glossy finish of the car. "God, Rose, you are beyond beautiful," he murmured reverently, sliding his hands to my waist, and then along my ribcage to palm my breasts, leaving me suspended, held up only by his cock and my legs clamped around his hips. He kneaded them roughly, thumbing and pinching my nipples, staring down at me as I writhed against the hood of the car, my fingers twined in my hair. Pushing my chest up into his hands, I undulated and rocked my pelvis against his, wordlessly urging him to start thrusting. He obliged, and once we had a rhythm going, he swept his hands back to my hips, never breaking contact with my skin, one hand sliding underneath me to splay over my ass. He rested the tips of his fingers just over my womb, and circled my clit with his thumb, just close enough to drive me wild, but not close enough to precipitate my orgasm. With impeccable timing, he waited until he was almost there himself before triggering me with a rough sweep of his thumb over the sensitive bud and sending me hurtling over the edge into a screaming climax. He came seconds later in three slower, harder, and longer thrusts, punctuated by loud groans forced through clenched teeth.

I was still convulsing against the hood when we both heard the unmistakable sound of a car approaching. It was still miles away, and we had plenty of time to get ourselves and the car out of sight, but we hurried anyway, giggling like teenagers as we fumbled with each others' clothing. I shoved his cock back into his pants, zipping him up swiftly while he pulled my dress up over my breasts and down over my hips. A brief struggle ensued when he refused to return my panties, bundling me into the front seat bare-assed in spite of my protests.

"If I mess up the upholstery because of this, you will clean up it up, or replace the seat if necessary. Got it?" I snarled.

He snapped to attention, saluted me smartly with a cocky grin and climbed nimbly over me, settling his huge frame into the passenger seat as I gunned the engine and screeched out onto the road, away from the approaching car and back the way we came. I slowed to a stop as soon as we were back on the private driveway leading to our home and out of sight of the main road. Emmett looked at me curiously, stretching his arm along the back of my seat, lazily rubbing his thumb along the slope of my shoulder.

"Why did we stop?" he asked.

I shut off the engine, the relative silence of the woods almost deafening after the roar of the Caterham. "I've been thinking about what you said, about me being like Edward in discounting Bella's choices."

He said nothing, just moving his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress and watching me patiently.

"You were right," I murmured.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he returned smoothly, cocking his head as if he needed to do it to hear me better.

Fucker. "You heard me," I muttered darkly. "I don't need to repeat myself."

He shifted his hand to the nape of my neck, gripping it gently, and leaned into me. "Humor me," he said softly, eyeing me intently.

I stuck my nose in the air and tried to avert my face. His hand tightened slightly around my nape in response, preventing me from turning away. I immediately recognized the gesture for what it was: the forewarning of a little lesson in humility. He wasn't going to let me get away with a muttered, half-baked explanation, especially after my earlier display of temper and my vehement denials; he was determined to get a more detailed answer out of me.

I figured I had it coming, so I capitulated willingly. "You were right." I spoke clearly, looking him straight in the eye. "I was making assumptions about Bella based on my own desires, not hers. When I put myself in her shoes, I realized that I would have made the same choices she did." His grip on me loosened, his hand resting lightly against my skin. My voice dropped to a whisper. "I would do anything to keep you in my life. If I had to choose, now, between you and a normal life…I would choose you in a heartbeat. Why should I expect any different for Bella?"

He pulled me closer to him and I dropped my head to his shoulder with a shaky sigh. "You should tell her that," he murmured, nuzzling my hair. "I think she might really appreciate hearing it from you." I turned my head, rubbing my cheek against the soft material of his sweater and we sat in silence for a moment in the dappled sunlight.

I pulled away from him reluctantly. "I guess we should get back," I sighed. "I need to talk to Bella and log some time on the hotline…"

"…and I need to face the Wrath of Esme," he finished glumly.

Laughing at his long face, I started the car and we rumbled homeward.

Esme's chapters are up next.