Author's Note: As always, a big thank you to MarcyJ, Warui-Usagi, and blondie AKA robin for all your beta work and corrections. It's a privilege to be able to share my work with such awesome, talented girls.
I solemnly swear that I did not steal an early copy of Breaking Dawn, and I seriously doubt that Emmett will be stripping for us in two weeks when the book comes out (though it'd be really fun if he was). No copyright infringement is intended.
A few people reviewed asking if luges are real. Yes, they are. I drank from one a few weeks ago at a cousin-in-law's wedding. It wasn't shaped like a naked man, however.
I found it interesting that for every person who reviewed saying that they were totally taken aback by Jean being Emmett, there was another person who knew it was him from the moment they saw his big cheesy grin through the peephole. Congrats, all of you who picked up on the subtle clues!
Chapter 4: A Stripper Named Emmett
I'm too sexy for my love
Too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me…
As those lyrics played, Emmett began to dance erotically, swiveling his oversized pelvis in circles, strutting back and forth as he mouthed the words to the song. Alice began cheering him on, and made motions that encouraged the other women to do the same. Jessica was the first to eagerly join her with the cheerleader routine, followed by Lauren. My friends, who of must have remembered the hunky Emmett from school (he only graduated a year earlier than us, after all), seemed oblivious to the fact that this was my future brother-in-law bearing it all right in front of us. I prayed that this human memory would vanish quickly when I became immortal.
Encouraged by the "Go Emmett!" calls, he gracefully strode across the room, giving a small shake of his behind with every turn. As he walked away from me, he slid his thumbs under his black suspenders, allowing them to fall to his sides. Esme, who was sitting next to me, was staring at her son in shock. Her mouth fell wide open and her hands clutched the edge of the couch, her knuckles straining. I hoped she wouldn't pulverize it.
"I thought I raised him better than this," she said faintly.
I'm too sexy for my shirt
Too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts…
With that, he whipped off his previously crisp white shirt, tossing it straight towards me. It hit both Esme and me across my face, and I had to peel it down to see him. Esme kept her half of the shirt conveniently draped over her head, and showed no sign that she was going to take it down. Rolling my eyes and grinning at the fact that she was feeling more uncomfortable about this situation than even I was, I yanked the shirt from her face and threw it on the floor.
"Thanks a lot," she muttered.
"Not a problem," I laughed. I bit my lip and raised an eyebrow, a little less inhibited than usual (probably due to the three drinks that were now in my system) and for once was able to appreciate Emmett's brutish beauty. His bulging muscles rippled under his skin as he flexed his arms. Kissing each bicep once, he gave every one of the girls a wide, saucy grin. Lauren, Rosalie, and Jessica began catcalling. Esme alone (whose arms were crossed) seemed like she wished she were elsewhere. She glanced at her watch, as if she hoped that if she checked the time, it would go by faster. I gave her a sympathetic smile. Angela (who was severely drunk by now and wasn't quite herself) was yelling for him to take off more clothes, and even I found myself ogling.
Stop that Bella! I chastised myself. He's going to be your brother in two weeks! He's married to Rosalie! You're going to be married to Edward! You can't get turned on by Emmett!
And yet, my still human body was not only raging with hormones, but was filled with more liquor than I was used to (which meant any liquor at all). I felt my breathing become more rapid, and my body was starting to grow hot. I saw Rosalie give me a warning look, and realized once again, that she could hear my heartbeat and probably knew exactly what was happening to me. Dangit! I tried to concentrate on the fact that Emmett was so blindingly white that he made the Pillsbury Doughboy look tan, which helped calm my physical response.
And I'm too sexy for Milan
Too sexy for Milan
New York and Japan…
With that line of the song, Emmett unzipped his pants and wriggled out of them. I gulped nervously, not sure what lie beneath the tailored twill. Thankfully he was wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts that were covered with a winter print of several snowmen. I groaned inwardly. Will the "cold" jokes never end?
"Ooooooohhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh!" Jessica and Lauren said in unison, as though they were watching fireworks. Alice began clapping her hands in beat with the music, and the other girls joined.
"We love snowmen and icicles! WOOOO!" Angela yelled in a slurred voice. Her claps were off beat. I shook my head, amused but chagrined. My crazy vampire family was corrupting my one true human friend. Not the way I wanted to remember the last few weeks as a human.
And I'm too sexy for your party
Too sexy for your party
No way I'm disco dancing…
To my surprise, Emmett, knowing no shame whatsoever, removed his boxer shorts. I gasped, and then hid my eyes. Underneath the snowfield-themed underpants was something yellow and skimpy.
"That's what a banana hammock is!" Lauren yelled, gleefully pointing. She stuck her hand into her purse and pulled out her tiny, silver, compact Canon Powershot digital camera and turned it on. Crap! I thought. Knowing her, those will be all over the Internet by morning. "Look everyone! A BANANA hammock!" Just as Lauren began to zoom in on Emmett's pelvis, Rosalie lightly slapped Lauren's outstretched hand, hard enough that an audible sound could be heard over the music.
"Mine," Rosalie said with a terrifying lilt, glaring at Lauren with a psychotic, menacing look. I shifted my hand so I could see my future sister-in-law as she transformed into the deadly predator she truly was. She looked like something out of a horror movie as she let out a low hiss. "Don't look. Don't touch. Don't point-and-shoot. That's not yours. It's mine. Understood?"
Lauren, looking genuinely scared, proceeded to inch away from Rosalie, perching herself on the armrest of the loveseat. Stifling a smirk, I pressed my lips tightly together as Lauren suffered under Rosalie's gaze. My future sister-in-law looked very pleased with herself as she looked around to see if anyone else had taken a liking to her nearly naked mate. Emmett, on the other hand, was so busy dancing that he either hadn't noticed the exchange at all, or was making a very good show of pretending that he hadn't.
"Yeah Rosalie! You tell her!" Jessica said in a tipsy voice, pumping her fist. Rosalie gave Jessica a derisive look. Apparently, she had no patience for wannabes or ass-kissers.
Intoxicated enough to be amused by the catfight, I peeked between my fingers to get a better look at the cause of Rosalie's possessiveness. My bear of a brother-in-law-to-be's pasty-white but oh-so-muscled butt cheeks (which were so shapely that the now penis free statue of David looked scrawny in comparison) were very much exposed, with the T of yellow coming out of the top of his butt-crack. His hat, wig, socks, and man-thong were the only things still left on.
"Where did he get that…that…thing he's wearing?" Esme asked, in disbelief, trying very hard to aim her eyes anywhere but at Emmett.
"I'm guessing that Alice bought it for him…or made it for him. Either way, my money is on Alice," I said to her.
"He must have lost a bet to her. It's the only explanation for why he would agree to do this. Unless this is to make it up to her for the incident in 1980…" She looked thoughtful for a second.
"Emmett bets against Alice?" I said, completely surprised. Esme laughed.
"Sometimes," she admitted.
"That's…not very smart," I said slowly. She gave a short laugh.
"Does he look very smart right now?" she asked, waving her hand in his general direction.
"Point taken."
I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk
Yeah I do my little turn on the catwalk…
Off came Emmett's socks. The way he took them off was so imperceptible that it was nearly invisible. My eyebrows went higher and higher, and giggling, I removed my hands from my eyes and gawked. The living, moving, marble statue before me, with his flashing teeth and gyrating hips was breathtaking. I wondered how I'd never been "dazzled" by him before. As the second little turn on the catwalk played, he began giving Rosalie what was unmistakably a lap-dance. Lauren continued to shrink away, trying not to look at Emmett, for fear of being punched. Rosalie smoothly ran her hands down Emmett's alabaster back, lust flashing in her eyes. Having teased her enough to know that he had the ability to arouse her, he left her lap and strode towards me, leaving his wife breathless.
I'm too sexy for my car
Too sexy for my car
Too sexy by far…
He contracted his gigantic pectorals, one side at a time, to the beat of the music, thrusting his pelvis backwards and forwards, making it impossible for me not to stare at his hips, thighs, abs, and everything in between. He came up close to me, as if he was about to treat me to a lap dance as well, and I inched back…not afraid of his stunningly beautiful and nearly naked Colossus-like body…but of the possibility that he'd crush me with his super-human strength before I had a chance to see his brother in similar get up. Sure, Emmett looked hot right now…but bulky wasn't my type. Edward in a banana hammock, on the other hand…now there was something to write home about. Wooo.
I smacked myself across the forehead for thinking kinky thoughts. Up until tonight, I'd fantasized about my first time with Edward…dreaming of the lace, the flowers, the candles, and the romance. I hadn't really thought past the wedding night into the more unconventional options. I'd always assumed that we'd do the deed a few times on our honeymoon, but that after that, I'd have a lot of adjustments to go through as a newborn. Also, I knew so little about this crazy vampire sex that Alice had hinted at. The curiosity of the mere mechanics of it had been enough to fill my mind. Now that a lean, mean, ninety-nine-percent-naked Nosferatu was virtually belly dancing before me, however, a whole new world of the possibilities for the land of undead marital bliss filled my mind. I wonder how many times Edward and I get to "try" before he bites me? I smacked myself again, urging Naughty Bella to get her mind out of the gutter.
And I'm too sexy for my hat
Too sexy for my hat
What do you think about that…
Always one to read my expression as if it were a book, Emmett leaned in close and whispered, "Edward's banana hammock is black." I covered my mouth with my hand and blushed furiously at his words. He gave me a evil grin before spinning away on his bare feet, pulling off the fedora and throwing it to Alice like a Frisbee. She caught it and hooted at him. His feminine blonde wig (which matched Rosalie's hair nicely) was cascading to his shoulders, contrasting weirdly with his unmistakably masculine physique.
I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk…
He flipped his blond hair over his shoulder flamboyantly, turning his head to make eyes at me, giving me his best fake come-hither look. I laughed out loud, and he frowned back with false hurt. Rosalie promptly began to wiggle her hips smoothly, in beat with the music, looking more aroused by her sometimes-husband than I'd ever seen in my life.
Yeah I shake my little tush on the catwalk…
Emmett pranced backwards away from me, outstretching his hands in my direction as though he was trying very hard to reach for me, but was unable to, due to a mysterious magnetic pull to Rosalie. He backed up, and as the word "tush" played, he proceeded in shaking his booty in her general direction. He pulled off the blond wig, and spun around to face her. There was nothing to get in the way of their desire for each other except for the flimsy, almost non-existent butt-floss (I congratulated myself for now knowing how to use the phrase "butt-floss" in a sentence).
I'm too sexy for my cat
Too sexy for my cat
Poor pussy poor pussy cat
With this, he began to actually move across the floor on all fours, looking remarkably like he could have been in Andrew Lloyd Webber's production of Cats, had he been in costume, rather than stripped down to his skivvies. He slunk across the lush carpet and actually faked the motion of licking his paw. Jessica and Lauren were shaking so hard that I thought that they might have been having seizures. Not once did Emmett seem embarrassed or uncomfortable in front of us or his mother—I began to wonder what bet he'd lost to have been roped so completely into this charade…even more…what did happen in 1980? What terrible thing could Emmett have done to Alice that would have warranted that he do this to make up for it?
"Esme," I asked in a low voice. "What happened between Emmett and Alice in 1980?"
"We don't talk about that," she said firmly. "Don't ever ask me about that again." I nodded, taken aback by her strong reaction that, while shutting me up immediately, only served to arouse my curiosity. I made a mental note to ask Edward about it later.
I'm too sexy for my love
Too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me
Unable to stop himself, Emmett pulled Rosalie up to standing, and snaking one of his legs around the back of hers and drew her into an embrace, subtly running his long, thick, white fingers over her curvy hips, ever so slightly grabbing her rear.
And I'm too sexy for this song…
As the song ended, he passionately kissed Rosalie, pressing his body up against hers. He grasped the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and she responded to it enthusiastically. My mind drifted back to Edward, wishing it was us sharing the embrace. The kiss continued long after the song had ended, and a few seconds after Lauren, Jessica, and Alice stopped cat-calling.
"Wow, that's what I call lung capacity," Lauren murmured to a giggling Jessica as the minutes ticked by. I stifled a giggle. They don't need to breathe…
"Hey you two!" Angela yelled in a slurred voice. "Get a room! Get a freaking room!" Her face was flushed, and the veins in her forehead looked a bit distended. Her eyes were distinctly bloodshot.
"Our key opens the room across the hall as well," Rosalie said seductively, running one finger behind Emmett's ear, toying with a dark curl. "What do you say you mosey on over and I make use of it…Jean?" She nimbly picked up the white shirt bearing his nametag, and not-so-discreetly tied the shirt around his waist, the arms of the shirt knotted over his right hip. It covered up his butt and obvious banana like a woman's sarong. His right thigh, however, was completely exposed on the side, and the shirt didn't cover up the fact that something was bulging up front.
"Would that make you happy?" Emmett asked her earnestly, running his hands over her shoulders.
"GET A ROOM!" Angela yelled. She was now slumped in her armchair, looking like she might suddenly lose consciousness at any point in time, provided she didn't vomit.
"Get out of here and go do each other, for Pete's sake," I said in an exasperated voice, tossing the two lovebirds one of the hotel keycards. Figures, I thought. I'm the bachelorette, and Rosalie's the one running off to make out or have sex or do God knows what else with the stripper. I immediately began to mentally beat myself up for being jealous of Rosalie. You don't want Emmett…he's like…eight times your size, I reminded myself. That'd be like a Saint Bernard and a Chihuahua hooking up. Gross. You just want to figure out what this wild vampire sex is so you can have it. I was disturbed by my thoughts. Naughty Bella was coming out. Damn that Alice…the power of suggestion.
Emmett flashed me a grateful look as he caught the keycard with his lightning-quick reflexes.
"Thanks, Bella," he said exuberantly. "I hope you have fun, too!" He and Rosalie practically threw each other out the doorway and into the hall. We heard first our door slam loudly, followed by the muffled sound of the door to the suite opposite of us.
In the absence of Rosalie and Emmett, the room suddenly seemed very quiet. No one seemed compelled to pick up the shoes, socks, pants, wig, hat, or sunglasses that had been left behind in a trail. Alice opened her mouth as if to say something snarky, but Esme gave her a look that made her close it again. For a minute we all sat around, just imagining what was going on across the hall. One look at Esme's face and I knew she could hear exactly what was happening.
I thought back to that first fateful vampire baseball game I'd watched, and the thunderous noise their bodies made when they crashed into each other. I wondered if vampire sex sounded as stormy as vampire athletics. Alice grinned at her mother with a gleam of mischief in her eyes, and flicked the remote control. The music blared loudly enough to cover up anything that could possibly be going on in the next room. I guess so.
Sex is natural
Sex is good
Not everyone does it
But everyone should
Sex is natural
Sex is fun
Sex is best
When it's one-on-one
"Alice," Esme said, wincing uncomfortably. "Can we…er…listen to something else? Something that's not a George Michael song cued to the "hot" parts?" Without missing a beat, Alice flicked the remote control again.
I'll make love to you
Like you want me to
And I'll hold you tight
Baby all through the night
I'll make love to you
When you want me to
And I will not let go till you tell me to…
"Alice," Esme said, this time in a more severe voice. "Something else." Alice sighed and switched the music to some soft jazz—elevator music.
"Prude," she muttered, kicking Emmett's snowman shorts away and crossing her arms, pouting.
"Angela? Are you okay?" I asked, suddenly noticing that my kindhearted friend was now draped over the armrest, apparently taking a nap. I walked over to her and squeezed her hand. Her eyes promptly opened.
"Huzzah! Ben! Conga lines!" she said, incoherently.
"Ange…I think you're drunk," I said in a concerned voice, feeling for her pulse. It was very slow.
"I'm not drunk!" she said, with a hiccup. "I'm a beautiful princess!"
"Yes…yes you are," I said, now genuinely worried. "But you're also very drunk."
"Am I still a virgin?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering. Both Jessica and Lauren snorted loudly.
"Yes Angela…you are," I said with a sigh. I desperately hoped that "Naughty Bella" wouldn't end up as sloshed as "Wild Angela."
"Good. That delivery dude was pretty hot, but too tall and burly for me to lose my virginity to. Give me a guy who's short…and Asian." She giggled uncontrollably, and I winced. The way Angela was talking was so incredibly not Angela. I decided that I didn't like drunk Angela...it made her act out of character…almost as though I wasn't talking to her. I went to the sink and filled one of those little clear plastic cups with water and brought it back to her.
"Drink this," I said in a commanding voice. "It will help you sober up." Not that I was the resident expert on alcohol, but I had paid enough attention during tenth grade Anatomy and Physiology to know how to flush toxins from the bloodstream.
"I don't need to sober up!" she said in a sleepy voice. "Trust me…I feel fine."
"Just drink it," I urged. Angela obeyed and emptied the cup in one swig.
"More!" she said enthusiastically. I motioned to Alice, who ran to the bathroom and came back with another cup, which Angela downed.
"My stomach feels too full," Angela complained. "I think I'm going to be sick…" without another word, Esme had dashed over in a blur of movement, almost too quick to see, and with Alice's support, she helped Angela to the bathroom.
I looked around awkwardly and realized that I was alone in the room with Lauren and Jessica, who were most certainly not sitting around bored. Instead, the two of them had raided the Ice Sculpture cart, and they were downing shots of Godiva faster than you could say lush, high-fiving each other every time the glasses emptied.
Miserably, I sank into my chair, glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was only seven-thirty. Pierre, the concierge, had said that our checkout time was three p.m. the next day. How on earth was I supposed to survive another nineteen and a half hours of this?
I vowed to myself right then and there that the moment I was a vampire, I would tear Alice's arms off…literally remove them from her body…and not give them back until she apologized.
"Wanna bet?" Alice called from the bathroom.
Goddammit.
Thank you for all your hilarious reviews! It makes my day when someone tells me I made them fall out of their chair laughing.
Random Twilight Trivia: Where was Bella the first time she swallowed vampire venom?