Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, and its characters, or plot. The characters, books, and plot are property of Stephenie Meyer. I make no money from writing this. I just love Twilight.
Warning: Lemons in future chapters. Rated NC-17 for a reason. Violence, adult language, assault, and sexual content.
Chapter Specific Warning: Not quite a lemon in this chapter, but sex is implied.
Big thanks to my beta, Beth, aka Ledybug.
8/30/2010: Proofed by KariAnn and Idealistic4ever.
All Chapters are Rosalie's POV.
Playlist:
The Beatles - In My Life
Fergie - Clumsy
Jodeci - Freak'N You
Silk - Freak Me
Chapter 8: Pheromone
In love.
I was in love and completely clueless.
The following day, after he'd graced me with the fact that he thought I was an angel, he was back to being indifferent. He wasn't so much cold. I didn't really feel that. But it was like his mind had reset, and he'd forgotten all about our family discussion. He was just apathetic—completely unresponsive to me. A casual nod hello here. A tip of his hat there. Standing up when I entered the room. All of this nonchalance occurred without an utterance of a single word. All of this but not a step toward me, nor an effort to socialize with me.
Not that I wasn't partially thankful for such indifference at the moment. In the days that followed my epiphany, I wasn't sure what to do or how to act. Because of this, I found myself almost appreciative of his unresponsiveness, even though my heart longed for his affection, or even just his attention.
Even if he did speak to me, what would I say?
I was scared. Scared that if I tried to speak to him, I'd tell him how I felt and appear to be too forward—so improper for a young lady such as myself. Or worse, something stupid and unpredictable would come out of my mouth that I would regret later. Thinking about his handsome face, I knew that trying to speak would be a challenge. I wondered if I would even be able to compose a coherent sentence at all.
It was easy in my human life, because I was always the object of desire, of infatuation, and no one ever caught my eye but Royce. Even then, however, what I felt for Royce was a mere infatuation of the idea of love. I recognized that now. It was not the genuine feeling of an all-encompassing true love—the all encompassing love that I now felt for Emmett. This was completely new.
I was left finding things to do with my time in an effort to distract myself from my emotional ups and downs.
It was a sunny day—too sunny to go to school. Our vampire skin would be sparkling like diamonds, bouncing off a million rainbows in this sunlight. It would be a true indicator that we were different—a definite breach of vampire law. Edward and I knew we had to stay home. Well, I knew we couldn't attend school, but I did not plan to stay home today. For the last month or so since I found Emmett, I had been distracted from other aspects of my life. He had been back for roughly two and a half weeks by now, and he still wasn't speaking to me. I needed to concentrate on many other things while his newborn phase dragged on.
It had occurred to me that I had not spied on my human family in months. I had done this three or four times before: dressing in disguise, heading by car to Rochester, sitting outside of their house to get a peek at what my parents were up to, and how my two younger brothers had grown. It was hard to resist. I had only been a vampire for just over two years, and when your human family is still alive you cannot help but be curious. They were the only solid connection to my human life, and, knowing that I'd outlive them, my days of watching over them were limited.
I hummed to myself lightly as I sat at my vanity and set my hair in a flat bun, pressing it further against my head with a hairnet. I stepped into my walk-in closet to grab my wig—a shiny, warm, chestnut brown chin-length bob with finger waves accenting the front, parted to the right side. Returning to my vanity, I secured it on my head with bobby pins. I then placed a maroon deco cloche hat over it, making sure it tipped over my left eye. Donning my knee length, double-breasted tan trench coat over my maroon pantsuit, I headed out the door.
It was 5:00am when I left. It took me an amazing eight short hours to get from Appalachia to Rochester in Carlisle's Bentley. Carlisle was generous to lend the car to me so long as I dropped him off at the hospital and dropped Esme off at Taylor's Department Store in Cleveland along the way. I thanked God that it was overcast in upper-state New York today. I knew I would be able to walk among the humans without scaring them with unusual diamond skin.
I searched and found the house my family now lived in. They had moved shortly after my "death," to a smaller house; I figured they didn't want memories of me abiding in the house I grew up in. Following their familiar scent, I found the small blue townhouse and lingered on a tall tree nearby, careful to make sure any passersby did not spot me. I could hear my mother humming in the house as I stalked the surrounding area. I found her in the living room, in a housedress with her silvery blonde hair in a messy bun, dusting the furniture. Over the mantle of the fireplace held framed pictures of my family. A few contained photos of me. She dusted over the large frame of my solo portrait taken when I was sixteen and stopped humming. I watched her stare for an immeasurable moment, seeming a bit choked up, as she was lost in thought.
My heart broke. I'd recently I grown resentful towards her and my father for pushing me into a life with Royce King the Second for the purposes of their social climbing and gold-digging ways. However, they were my biological parents, and I loved them unconditionally. They were not nearly the wonderful people I now call my parents back in Appalachia, but I couldn't deny my connection to my past life, my own flesh and blood. My dead heart rattling in my chest, the longing for this life I was supposed to have lingering in my ribcage.
I only say my heart broke slightly because it was the truth. The Kings were the one royal family in Rochester, and Royce King the First was the owner of the bank my father worked for. It was my own mother who one day had me in my white organza with my hair rolled up just to go to the bank and bring my father lunch. That was where his son watched me, and that night the first of many flowers came to my door. I was ecstatic to be engaged to such a good-looking, wealthy man, but I was just a pretty thing in his arm and in his disgusting hands; it eventually lead to my human destruction.
I eventually came to a conclusion in my two years as a vampire: I'd had only a faint awareness of my parents' plan to lure him into the family, using me as the bait; hoping to secure our financial well being with that of the Kings through the marriage of their children. Although our family was better than middle class and made the Great Depression look like a silly myth, my parents still longed for better riches. I, of course, had inheritedmuch of my grand taste from them as well; I was never satisfied with what good fortune I had and was always craving material things. I frowned that their greed had indirectly lead to my death, and I harbored a small but distinct resentment toward them as a result. I knew it wasn't their fault that Royce had turned out to be the snake that he was. They hadn't known, but I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. I loved them no matter what, and even though Royce was the true culprit that had stolen my life, I couldn't help but wonder where I'd be right now if they hadn't meddled with my life.
I watched my mother for close to two hours as she continued cleaning the house, ironed my father and brothers' shirts, and prepared supper. This was the only way I could see her again, and I was thankful for the opportunity. I had not been permitted to do such a thing in my first year as a newborn, but Carlisle and Esme both understood my need and curiosity for my human family, and thus they never interfered with my choice to do this now that my bloodlust was under control.
It neared 3:00pm, and I decided to step away from the house, fleeing over to quickly examine the bench at the bus stop that sat diagonally across the street from their home, before deciding it was a good place to sit. I knew my brothers would be coming home from school around this time, and I needed to figure out how to be inconspicuous. I flew to the nearest newspaper vendor and purchased a copy of the latest New York Times before I returned to sit at that bus stop. I crossed my legs and opened the paper, holding it up so that only my eyes could be seen. This was my disguise, as I couldn't show them my face. I knew even with the wig, one of them could possibly recognize their deceased older sister.
Richard and Ronald, Jr., my two younger brothers, pulled into the driveway not even ten minutes later. Perfect timing, I thought to myself. They both stepped out of the car with their schoolbooks in hand. I heard them greet my mother when they walked into the house. I found it amusing that Richard was now driving. He was your typical younger brother with a heavy symptom of misbehavior.
Ronald, Jr., or Ronnie, as I so lovingly addressed him, was my youngest and favorite brother. He had grown nearly a foot since my "mortal death," his handsome face taking on manly features. My preternatural hearing allowed me to catch my mom ordering him to "tidy-up the automobile." Stepping out of the house, he brought a rag to wipe down the family car. I could not believe how much he had changed and grown up. He was now fifteen, with his blond hair in a buzz cut, and he wore a neatly pressed shirt and pants.
I stared at him, remembering the many times I would put him to bed, reading him books or telling him bedtime stories that I knew from my own childhood.
Just then, a woman walked by with a wicker pram baby stroller that carried a little girl, about two years old. The mother nodded her head at me, and I returned her nod, her child waving at me as they passed.
For the first time in a long time, a pang in my stomach surfaced as I felt a longing for children again. I then realized what my baby brother had meant to me as I'd grown up. He was practice for what I believed was the big game—my future children.
Trying to mentally mend my dead broken heart at the moment, I thought quickly of Emmett and his presence in my life. Maybe one day I could have half the life I longed for with a man that loved me. I then, however, remembered that Emmett still had not shown interest in me, and my heart broke all over again. I tried to shake off the thought and concentrated back on my family's house, listening as my little brother shut the car door while he cleaned out some of the clutter.
He looked around the perimeter of his front yard and surrounding area, settling on the bus stop. He focused on me and smiled—a friendly smile to a woman sitting at the bus stop, unknowing I was his sister, now a brunette haired stranger to him.
I returned his gaze and couldn't help but smile back, before I realized that I had unconsciously left the newspaper at my lap, no longer concealing my face as I stared at Ronnie.
His smile slowly faded. His crystal blue eyes narrowed before they grew wide with fright, color leaving his now pale face. His expression was one of horror; it was one of obvious recognition of his presumed dead sister sitting right in front of him.
Shit.
I had blown my cover.
I threw the paper up in the air and fled the scene, leaving the pages of newsprint falling and swaying in the air before they reached the ground in my wake. I knew that to his mortal eyes I'd look like I disappeared. I could hear him bellow out to my mom, crying that he saw a ghost.
What I mess I just made. What a careless, stupid, mindless mistake. Of course he would recognize me, his sister that he was closest to; no matter what disguise I wore, with a brown wig and new golden eyes, he would know the face of his big sister Rose. That was very foolish.
I had always been mindful before—always careful, always cautious. I came to grasp now how affected I was by the presence of Emmett in my life, and my situation where I was constantly ignored, left feeling rejected. I had become insecure, distracted, and grew careless in everything I did. I needed to concentrate on maintaining more control over my actions and my thoughts.
Fleeing to the car, I headed towards Cleveland to pick up Esme and return home. I knew now I couldn't even wait for my biological father to return from a day's work because of the fragile state I had left Ronnie in. I began my reluctant drive back to Virginia, chastising myself for messing up today.
"Engine exhaust to headers," I softly mumbled to myself, comparing the diagram sketched in my car mechanics manual to the objects underneath the car. It was just about nightfall one weekday as I lay on a mechanic's creeper underneath Carlisle's Bentley, trying to teach myself more auto body anatomy once again.
It marked the four week anniversary of Emmett's awakened state as a vampire, a couple days after I had scared my human brother to death. I was still sentenced not to be alone with Emmett for too long because of his erratic behavior. Just the other day he took a swing at Carlisle with his fist while hunting as Carlisle tried to stop him when they crossed the scent of humans. Emmett allowed Carlisle to stop him, though, which was an improvement. Nevertheless, he was still dangerous, and I still wasn't to be allowed with him by myself. The same concern was for Esme as well, but more so for me because they knew I had feelings and constantly craved proximity and physical contact with him.
As a result, I ended up drowning myself in distractions. Cars were a big one; dancing and music were others. My human family would be another, but being that I royally screwed up so recently, it was not an option for me to spy on them anytime soon.
Today it was cars. I was trying to identify the path that the exhaust takes, just to occupy my thoughts. "Headers to catalytic converter." The diagram in the book was slightly different from what I saw under the Bentley, so I tried my best to translate those drawn parts with the ones in front of me.
"Catalytic converter to muffler…" With my feet I lightly scooted my body along the length of the car towards the rear.
"Muffler to exhaust pipe and out..." I mumbled again. I slammed down one foot to stop the creeper.
I paused to read some more of the fine print in the manual. This was rather tedious but I was a woman on a mission for knowledge.
"The headers combine the exhaust from all the chambers in the engine into one pipe."
I hummed to myself a popular tune on the radio, with one leg tapping to the beat in my head. I was a fan of Shirley Temple, and I adored her latest release.
Just then I heard two pairs of feet make a soft landing on our lawn.
"Wow, so much for that shirt. That lion wasn't going to give up without a fight, huh?" I heard Edward say as they entered the garage.
I heard Emmett's laughter in response. "I have respect for that animal."
I pressed my lips together. Naturally, he never found it difficult to speak to Edward, and I found myself completely jealous of it. They were just getting back from a hunting trip. I was prepared to ignore them like I always do and keep to my business. It was a defense mechanism I had devised for myself. If I could ignore him as he did me, I wouldn't get hurt.
Just then I saw the two pairs of feet stop at the car. I stopped humming and tapping my foot.
"Good day, Miss Rosalie. What are you doing under there?" Emmett asked.
I froze. My train of thought came to a halt. Did he just ask me a question?
He hadn't spoken a phrase to me—not one that wasn't prompted by someone else, at least, not one that wasn't under supervision of Carlisle or Edward. Other than saying hello, good bye, thank you, and good night, he never so much as looked at me for longer than a small moment, let alone had a conversation with me—at least not one that was self-induced. We hadn't spoken one on one since his apology. My family assured me that he felt horrible and avoided me because he didn't want to harm me anymore. It didn't stop from hurting my feelings or my ego any less.
I was mentally hyperventilating as I pulled out from under the hood and stood up from the creeper, dusting off my navy and white nautical-style playsuit. I tried to discreetly fix my hair. I caught a glimpse of my reflection on the Bentley's side mirror. My hair was pulled neatly into a ponytail, falling out of the rubber band in a soft golden wave. My makeup was still flawless, my lips a deep crimson shade. I was able to assess this in less than half a second, pleased.
"Just comparing the diagrams here in the manual with what I see under there," I explain to him, trying my best to be nonchalant and holding up the manual like a moron. I did a quick check of my outfit, making sure I didn't miss any dust, making sure I didn't miss any dust. "And it's Rose," I reminded him, finally looking up at his eyes.
They were liquid-bright ruby red from hunting; big and round, like a lost puppy. I could lose myself in their depth. A small grin met his luscious lips. "Miss Rose, I'm sorry," he corrected himself. The friendly grin traveled up to meet his eyes. If my heart were still alive, it would race right now. His shirt was torn to shreds towards the bottom hem, exposing his six—no wait, it was eight—pack. I drooled inwardly.
I guess it wasn't enough that I was so desperately in love with him. I had to desperately lust after him as well.
Just when I was about to tell him to drop the "Miss" from my name, I was interrupted by an irritating voice.
"You know, Rose," Edward began in a smooth, playful tone, "I didn't realize you'd be so desperate to find another way to look for reflective objects. Must you find every possible thing to look at yourself with?"
I turned my head away from Emmett and narrowed my eyes in Edward's direction. "Take a hike, will you? Please, Edward. At least I don't sit around hating myself like you do. Being all 'crybaby' about being a monster. You are such a twerp." What happened to friendly, loving brother Edward? I guess annoying, irritating brother was back.
From the corner of my eye I spotted Emmett walking over to the corner of the garage, peeling his shirt off and tossing it into the trash, his back to me.
Edward stood looking at me with an irritating smirk. "You and your shallow little mind can't come up with anything better, can you?" He pushed away. "You better not break Carlisle's car," he sneered, walking towards the door. "I'll get you another shirt, Emmett," he called over his shoulder as he let himself into the house.
Emmett's back stared at me, calling my name. I drank in all of his glorious body with my eyes—his large frame, from his neck, his broad shoulders. I was helpless not to let my eyes travel the musculature that flexed effortlessly over his shoulder blades, the incline of the small of his back, leading my eye right down to his slack-covered sleek and shapely backside. I had the sudden urge to lick him up and down the trail that my eyes just traveled.
Just then I felt moisture pool between my legs. My body couldn't help itself, as I was overcome with desire for him, from him just simply taking his shirt off. I was dizzy. I felt my temperature rise three degrees and my head started to spin.
He stretched and flexed his large, thick arms. Those arms. It was like he was wearing a long sleeved sweater made of muscles. The wetness increased between my thighs with my lack of mental control.
Slowly, and by slowly I meant even slower than a human's pace, he turned his head towards me, his body still faced the other way. He stared at me over his shoulder questioningly. I saw his nostrils flare ever so slightly, like he caught a whiff of something, and I knew I was a goner.
I shifted my legs as if to check, my thighs rubbing together, and I could feel the slick and moist area between them just from that move alone.
Oh god, I thought. He smells my arousal! I winced mentally. Somebody, shoot me now!
I gulped and stepped back, as if that would help things. As vampires our sense of smell is very strong, and no doubt Emmett would, as well as the rest of my family, be able to detect I was turned on. Frightened of what might happen next, I watched him carefully and took another step away from him.
He turned around fully, his pectoral muscles staring back at me now. His chest and abdominal muscles were well defined in the moonlight that filtered into the garage. Oh Jesus, I thought. He wants to kill me with his sex. Burn me now, someone, light me on fire and let me burn. It wasn't an innuendo; the only thing that could destroy or hurt a vampire was fire.
"If you ever need help with that," he said softly, gesturing towards the Bentley, "I'd be more than willing to assist you. I'm not an expert but I know a little bit to help." He stepped closer, and I felt electricity in the air between us. "Just enough to make me dangerous."
Suddenly, I wasn't sure if we were talking cars anymore.
The word dangerous had me on edge, though. A small part of my mind recoiled at the memory of his large hand crushing my neck.
"When I get over this newborn phase, that is," he said, taking another step towards me. "It should be safer." The air was zinging with electric shock as his proximity grew towards me. "I could help you all that you need." His eyes were hungry, wild, but not from thirst this time. A side of his lips turned up in a sly half smile.
Yes, I am quite certain it's not cars anymore. I think it might be something else.
I stared at his succulent, tantalizing mouth once again. I want it to be something else.
Just then, the tip of his tongue reached out to lick his lower lip before retracting back into his mouth. My own lips parted at the sight. I wanted to taste his lips, and feel them on me… everywhere. I'd never felt like this before in my life.
I'd never known sex. My biological parents had given me the talk much later, but only that doing it was wrong. Before my last human night, I'd never been intimate with anyone. Not even Royce, who was too busy with the family business. He had made advances on me once, but I'd declined, wanting to keep my virtue intact for my wedding night. It wasn't too far away, our engagement only lasting months, so I was okay to wait. I thought he was, too. Not quite the case. I tuned out of my errant thought of my late fiancé, with the call of something more pleasant—and hot—right before me.
That was a different time, and I never wanted Royce like this. Like I desperately wanted Emmett. Like I desperately needed him. The woman with me awakened, and my sexual need bloomed within me, in the tingle I felt on my skin, in the surge of heat that rushed to my core. To be encased by those thick arms, and feel the scrumptious weight of his body on my own. I could imagine him reaching out to me, mounting me against the hood of the car.
My panties by that point were soaked. Emmett took another step in my direction, this time close enough that I could feel his cool breath on me. I leaned back in caution ever so slightly, and my own breathing became erratic. His eyes stared down at me, trying to search for something in my own. He gulped before he spoke. "I could try to help you now, maybe."
"Th-that would b-be nice," I managed to stutter, inching away from him a fraction of a degree.
The electricity was now bouncing back and forth between us. Mentally, I was already pouncing on him, but I wasn't too sure what was on his mind. I was going to let him lead. I knew that a newborn's need to feed took precedence over any other desires. Sex was a very human desire, and my mind knew that it would not be in the forefront of his consciousness. I wanted to believe it, but I couldn't. It was way too early for any of this, but there it was, right in front of me, staring me in the eye.
I took in his scent. Cinnamon bread. It was musky, sweet, and delicious all at the same time. It was drawing me in, but I resisted with all of my strength, still waiting for him to make a move.
He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply again, and I began to think maybe he liked my smell as well. A moment of embarrassment passed me as I realized my arousal was pretty potent in the air, and I was immediately self-conscious.
He opened his eyes slowly to look at me. A sudden growl rumbled from his chest, his eyes growing from wild to fierce. I immediately sank, taken back by the harshness of its tone. This reaction was… wrong somehow. Vicious. Full of rage, and guarded. I recognized it from his abrupt mood swings based on thirst.
This can't be good, I thought, and I took an instinctive step back. Yet it left me bewildered. We'd just had a moment of obvious attraction and insane electrifying heat. What had brought on the sudden defensive frenzy? Was it all in my head? Had I read too far into it? I couldn't have.
I furrowed my brow as I watched Emmett bare his sharp teeth at me. I felt sick. Maybe I had read too much into the exchange. I felt the pang of rejection as I realized I was right all along. It was too early. Way too early.
Suddenly I heard Edward, speaking as he walked back out of the house and into the garage. "Hey, man, here's your shirt. Sorry it took so long. Carlisle and I got to talking about what great progress you're making so far on your diet and—" Stopping abruptly in his sentence and his tracks, Edward froze. His eyes flickered from me to Emmett and back, our thoughts running through his head. His face seemed a bit apprehensive.
Edward inhaled deeply, taking in the situation, but then his eyes abruptly grew wide and shot me a look of disgust.
Oh god he smells me, too, I whined in my head, humiliated. Can this night get any better?
I looked away from Edward. This was just getting out of hand. I needed to make sure to control my thoughts around my family. There weren't many secrets to tell anymore.
"I'm… ugh—" he began, distaste spitting from his mouth, no doubt as a result of my arousal. "Come on, Emmett. You've had enough… time outside." He took another deliberate step towards Emmett. "Let's go listen to the game. The Mets are playing the Sox on the radio right now."
I immediately became livid. What the hell do you think you're doing? I directed my thoughts to Edward. Do you like butting in on private conversations? I wasn't ready for him to take Emmett away from me, though I wasn't sure of how to get myself out of this situation.
Ignoring me, he cautiously advanced toward the suddenly irate newborn. "Emmett," he called again, reaching his hand out to his new brother. "Baseball game. Inside. Mets against the Sox." His voice was deliberate, his eyes never leaving Emmett. "Deep breath, brother. No one's here to fight you."
Emmett's eyes shut, taking several deep breaths before he opened them again.
Throwing the shirt at Emmett and grabbing his arm, Edward lugged Emmett back into the house.
Emmett snarled, but he didn't protest, letting Edward drag him by his arm. His eyes didn't leave mine as he walked backwards into the house, letting out a very vampire-like hiss trailing behind them.
I was confused at Emmett's reaction to me, and annoyed at Edward's intrusion. Without delay, I put the blame where I could. Does it bother to you see two people trying to be happy?
Edward poked his head out, looking directly at me, shaking his head. "Too soon, too dangerous," he mouthed, probably not wanting Emmett to hear his warning.
Bluenose twit, I swear, I thought.
I looked up at a tap at the window. "I heard that," Edward mouthed.
I meant you to, I said in my head to him before he disappeared.
I threw down my leg, stomping the floor in a mini-temper tantrum. Just when I thought things were turning, I get the rug pulled out from under me. I sighed in frustration and sat back down on the creeper. Suddenly I wasn't in the mood for mechanics. My mind was left with thoughts of sparkling ruby gem-like eyes, the eyes that belonged to the one man who could relieve my aching heart.
Who was I kidding? I had thoughts of clutching onto Emmett's deltoids as he pounded me with his manhood into heavenly oblivion. He was the only man who could relieve the tingle between my thighs.
"Ugh!" I groaned in irritation.
And it was only just beginning…
Endnotes
