Disclaimer: The beautiful couple, Carlisle and Esme, as well as the awesome Edward belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: For some reason, when I was reading about UST, Carlisle and Esme popped into my mind. What am I doing? I dunno. (Pulls at hair) At least I tried. xo

PTB SMUT UNIVERSITY WEEKLY ASSIGNMENT

UNRESOLVED SEXUAL TENSION

Columbus, Ohio, 1911

She was unforgettable.

Her long skirt was caked with dirt, her tawny hair had long escaped its ribbon, and tear tracks marked her pink cheeks. Even then, she couldn't help being the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

The girl sat in the shade of an apple tree. They did not move her because it hurt too much. Not far away, apples spilled from a woven basket that must have been flung to its side during the excitement.

Her brown eyes widened at the sight of me. It was a natural reaction to my strangeness. She did not know I was a vampire but her instincts might have told her I wasn't entirely human. Her gaze shifted to the bag in my hand, the well-known prop of a physician. Another kind of alarm crossed her lovely face as she deduced the reason of my appearance.

"Dr. Cullen, thank you for being so prompt." Mrs. Platt, a distraught woman who was an older version of the girl, said. "Esme had fallen not too long ago."

Esme. A pretty name.

"Can you tell me what happened, Esme?" I asked as I examined her outstretched right leg.

In halting tones, she described the events leading to this unfortunate incident. "I was climbing the tree to pick apples. Misjudging the distance of a particular branch, I stretched too far and fell on my leg." Even when she was in severe pain, her voice was soft, gentle.

"I should think you are much too old to be climbing trees, Miss Esme," I remarked, wanting to erase the pain from her eyes.

"I am never too old for anything, Doctor. I like to believe that I'll be young forever." She laughed.

Her laughter was as engaging as the rest of her.

She had rolled down her stockings to reveal her swollen shin that was beginning to bruise. Angry scratches were scattered around it, but the bleeding was the least of my problems. Palpating the area confirmed my suspicion.

"Your leg is broken."

She looked up at me worriedly.

"It is not so bad," I assured her. "I believe the break is clean and I only have to adjust it a little."

I took a bottle from my bag and made her take some painkillers. I explained that it would hurt as I set the bone so it could heal properly.

"Ready?"

Her brave smile broke my heart.

I applied the gentlest pressure, but the dear girl still cried out in agony. I moved as fast as I could without revealing my superhuman skills, not wanting to prolong her suffering. She was the very picture of patience, not uttering a single complaint as I worked. At long last I had secured the leg with a splint and bandages.

I leaned forward to check my handiwork. It was then that a whiff of her scent drove me to maddening thirst.

I was all but immune to the smell of human blood. I had perfected my restraint with hundreds of years of training.

No, I did not thirst for her blood. Wretched man that I was, I thirsted for something far worse.

Her fresh, unique fragrance, mixed with sweat, earth, and fruit brought to mind Eve, that glorious enchantress who had tempted Adam out of his wits. It was absurd; Esme was everything that was youthful and innocent. Yet my all-too-male body responded shamefully to her femininity in ways I would not have thought possible. I was painfully aware of the creamy skin beneath the bruises, the dewy redness of her lips, the curves beneath the modest dress. The instant tightening of my loins betrayed my sinfulness. In a second that felt like an eternity, my mind was filled with thoughts that I vainly tried to push away.

Of lips and tongue and breath that tasted so sweet beneath my own.

Of slender fingers that left paths of fire wherever they touched.

Of full breasts that weighed perfectly in my hands.

Of smooth thighs wrapped around me in a sensual embrace.

Of warm, pliant skin I could bury myself into.

I held my breath to end the blissful torment that wracked my treacherous body. Esme, blessedly unaware of my moment of weakness, gave me one of her dimpled smiles. "Thank you Dr. Cullen. You are very kind."

She trusted me, a most undeserving man. I did not dare risk corrupting her purity. "Not at all, Miss Platt. If you do as instructed, you shall heal very nicely. You must excuse me. I have much work to do."

"Of course," she murmured, the light a little faded from her eyes.

I permitted myself one last act of selfishness before I left her presence forever. I took her hand and pressed a kiss gently. And then I was gone.

Ashland, Wisconsin, 1921

The pain was excruciating.

I wanted to curl into myself to see if that helped ease some of it but I could not move. I wanted to die. Why was I not dead already?

My boy. My beautiful baby. The only thing that could have saved my soul from the brink of despair. Gone.

I was overwhelmed with a fresh wave of pain, this time starting from my chest and radiating to the rest of my broken body. I couldn't endure anymore. I wasn't strong enough. When would this all end?

I was being lifted. I tried to open both eyes but I could only manage one. They were taking me away. Their hoarse cries were curiously muffled, as if I were underwater. A sharp burn pierced my nape, and then I could thankfully feel nothing.

I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come.

An indeterminable amount of time passed. I felt a comforting coolness touch my face. "My beautiful Esme. What have you done?" a captivating voice whispered. A familiar voice.

I tried to see who it was. I could barely manage to widen my eye beyond a slit. A golden god appeared before me. Apollo, in all his blazing glory. He turned unhappy yellow eyes towards me and I was shocked.

Dr. Cullen?

The man who had haunted my dreams since I was sixteen. He was everything a man should be. Kind, gentle, beautiful beyond words. All my life, I had searched for him, or someone like him. No one came close.

Oh, how foolish I was then. Our encounter was one that had left me quite confused. If I had been older, more aware of myself, I would not have let him leave so easily.

I remembered that cool autumn afternoon. I could not believe how young and attractive he was, yet he had spoken with knowledge and his capable hands healed as effortlessly as he had captured my heart.

His whole body radiated with power but he wielded it with gentleness and efficiency. That he was inherently a good man was unmistakable. I knew with absolute certainty that he could never ever hurt me.

And his face, oh how it was etched in my mind! His hair, pale as sunshine. His features all so perfectly formed. His sweet scent that seemed to pull me ever closer.

I had wanted to run my hands over the smooth ivory skin, on the muscles of his shoulders, to be wrapped in his strong arms. I yearned to press my face into his neck so I could inhale his mouth-watering essence. And I had longed to touch my lips to his to find out if it was as soft as it looked.

At that time, the pain from my broken leg was not so great that the other parts of my body could not function. My heart pounded in my chest, my mouth dry. Places I dared not mention tingled and ached and burned for something beyond my understanding.

My inexperienced self did not know it then, but what I felt was desire. I wanted him so much. But like the other good things in my life, that was short-lived.

"Esme, can you hear me?" he asked.

'Yes, Doctor!' I wanted to shout but my voice, like the rest of my body, was frozen.

"I cannot imagine the pain you are going through. I know you want to escape but I am too selfish to let you go. I hope, in time, you will forgive me."

What was he saying? I could not think of anything he might do that could possibly be so unforgivable. He would always be perfect in my eyes.

I saw him nod to someone beyond my vision. And then he bent down to kiss my wrist. At first I could not feel anything. And then agony as I had never before encountered flared to life. And I understood what he meant.

* In a cottage by the lake, Sometime later *

He never left her side.

He had spent the past few days talking to her, explaining what was happening, begging for her forgiveness. And when she was too ravaged by venom, he sat silently, wallowing in guilt. He alternated between berating himself and justifying his actions. What he did was inexcusable, against everything he had ever worked for. But he couldn't stand by and let her die either. He longed to see that light in her eyes again.

He felt Edward's hand on his shoulder. His reassurance kept him grounded. "It won't be long now," Edward said softly and left the room.

Dr. Cullen held his breath when he saw his patient show signs of life. His finger on her wrist registered the slowing of her pulse until it completely stopped. She inhaled deeply and moved her limbs carefully. And then she opened her eyes.

He was the first thing she saw, and then she was not afraid. In fact, she felt whole. She had been broken, but he was here, fixing her once more. He would always be there to mend her.

"Esme?" His voice was cautious and even more mesmerizing.

"Doctor?"

"Please call me Carlisle. How do you feel?"

It took a while for her to notice the changes her body had undergone. She stood from the bed and stepped toward him. She knew what had happened since she had been lucid when he tried to explain. Her past memories were slipping from her mind, and she happily let them go. Save for one.

"Carlisle."

She allowed her hand to trace the fine bones of his face, the cool softness of his lips. His eyelids drooped as she lifted both hands, felt his broad shoulders, his strong arms, and his muscled chest. The hunger she had felt when she was sixteen returned and doubled in force.

And then he was touching her too, and it felt incredible. She was strong yet she was all woman, her smooth, pale, fragrant skin exciting his senses. She smelled better now that she was of his kind; the pull of bloodlust was gone. In its place was a different kind of lust that was even more compelling. Somewhere in his hazed mind, he acknowledged that he should not be doing this. He should be explaining to her that what she was feeling was just one of the million other new things she had to learn to adjust to and to control. But he had longed for her for a decade, and now that she was in his arms, he did not have the will to stop.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed him in an explosion of sensation. Where this act of passion she had previously associated with pain, it was now pure pleasure. Her chest burst with happiness when he groaned and responded to the movement of her lips on his. Their breaths mingled, their tongues touched.

He buried his fingers in the mass of her soft, luxuriant hair and pulled her face up so he could kiss her more thoroughly. His other hand followed the dips and turns of her delectable body until it moved up to capture one breast.

She gasped at the pleasure of his thumb moving over an erect nipple. The thin material of her cotton dress did nothing to block the sensations flowing through her when he held the curve of her breast and caressed it hungrily.

He nipped at the skin behind her ear and deeply inhaled, the perfume of her skin sending a shock straight to his loins. His hand left her hair, moving down over her back to her generous backside. He kneaded them and pulled them up so that her pulsing center was flush with his engorged flesh.

She was mindless with want as she rubbed herself against his male hardness. Pleasure sparked where they pressed against each other and it radiated from between her thighs to her breasts and back again in an electrifying circuit.

He was teetering on the verge of completion. He brushed his ever-growing arousal on her eager body until he was throbbing with desperate need. He cursed the offensive clothes that formed a barrier between their skins. If not for them, he would now be deep inside her, encased in her magical warmth.

And then something tugged at the edge of her awareness. Something considerably stronger than the sexual hunger that threatened to consume her.

"Carlisle, stop her!"

The door burst open and a young man with brown-red hair pushed against her while Carlisle held her from behind.

'How dare they stop me?' She bared her teeth and tried to follow the most delicious aroma that made her forget everything else.

"Did you send them away, Edward?"

"As soon as I could."

Her sharp eyes looked out the window and followed the progress of the peddler's cart as it moved farther away from her reach. The cart that contained that wonderful smell. Blood.

Her throat burned with a thirst so intense that she used all her strength to appease it. But even with her newborn power she was helpless against two strong men who were determined to stop her.

"Esme, my dear Esme…" Carlise said soothingly. "You have to fight the thirst. They are innocents."

The smell was gone, and so was her strength. The fight went out of her and she collapsed in his arms.

The enormity of what she had almost done dawned on her. 'What kind of monster have I become?'

Out of the corner of Carlisle's eye he saw Edward retreat from the room. He shifted his attention to the remarkable woman in his arms and watched her bow her head helplessly. He made her into this. She must hate him so. He would make it up to her with everything he had.

He held her in his arms and infused her with his strength. "I will show you how to hunt now."

She raised wounded crimson eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. If there is anyone to blame, it should be I."

She shook her head. "What do we do now?"

"I will take you to a place where there are no humans. There are woods not far from here. There, we will hunt animals."

She lowered her head, embarrassed. "What we did before, it was very nice. I wish I did not ruin it."

He smiled. "There will be plenty of time for that too, if you wish. We have all eternity."

She saw the compassion and latent desire in his eyes, and knew she was very, very lucky to have discovered him again. If this amazing man were part of her future, then she would be the happiest woman on earth.

"Eternity," she agreed.