Welcome back! Yes, another chapter, just because. Because Carlisle couldn't stop obsessing! (You know how he is…)
Again, this whole shebang is for The Green Puma because I adore her so…her and her magnificent bewbies. OH! And her pervy brain. Go read every one of her fics because they will MESS with you (in an oh-so-very lovely way.) Especially Centuries of Practice…UNF! Or, Tryst! JESUS H. I can't even…ugh.
Okay, before I get too caught up in fangirling all over her ass like I always do, one little note: these chapters will be sorta short. And a sincere thank you to DazzledIn2008, who beta'd and who spent many a gchat, email, and text message in her not-so-spare time trying to figure out what to call this story. All will be explained, do not fret. Also, she just posted a brand-new fic, "Beautiful." Dom Edward meets shy, wanting Bella. Hot one-shot ensues...
Now, on with the show! (er, the disclaimer first, then the show.)
Mandatory Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns everything except my plot twists, pervy Carlisle's dirty thoughts, and incredibly twat-numbing sexual frustration. Thanks for the jumping off point, Stephanie! You made him Carlisle, I made him tortured and horny. LOVE!
O.O
Like A Freight Train
O.O
I smiled sincerely at the lithe Kimberly as I passed her, but the way her eyes widened so slightly, her lips pursed with pleasure, and her throat contracted as she swallowed did not escape me. I blinked slowly as she focused on my eyes and heard her heart stutter. I chuckled to myself, knowing that making her heart stutter didn't even require the employ of my vampiric charm: it was the attention.
My intention was not to mislead the women I worked with, but it was so frequent that I felt the fluttering of a heart or heard the sharp intake of breath that whether I intentionally elicited this behavior or not, it would continue. I had resigned myself to the fact that I truly did appreciate each of the women I worked with in their own right. And centuries of living among humans had taught me something very important: women were turned on in their minds, not just by their optical intake, as was the case for most men. And the thing women seemed to desire most? To be desired, to be appreciated, to be cherished.
And I cherished these women. They made a lifestyle choice to work long, hard, inconvenient hours, and committed their careers to caring for people. It was a choice I thoroughly respected – one I had made myself so many decades ago – and if my attention, although not intentionally aimed at seducing them, made them feel confident and sexy with a side of attraction thrown in, it was something I would graciously relish.
I was generous with my attentions; the more desired I made these women feel, the more confidence they seemed to have – not just with me, but it leaked into other aspects of their life: their work, their play, and their sex lives. Since I had been leaving the women of Forks General Hospital a little bit breathless, they seemed happier and a little more…satisfied. Who knew a little rev to the feminine libido engine would make mothers and sisters and wives a little more sure of themselves and in return, happy? Well, I had. But it didn't make me cocky. It made me happy for them and a bit relieved that I could ease the strain of making a living caring for others.
While well aware of the nicknames the nurses used for me behind my back, the fact that the female population of the hospital tended to stare a little too long or flirt a little too much didn't seem to bother Esme. She was herself a confident, secure woman. It hadn't always been that way, but as we grew and changed over the decades together, she had truly come into her own. She brought out the best in me and I, her. We were a match in intelligence, philosophy, and compassion, and she was the companion I had dreamed about for centuries before I found her.
And walking past the breathless Kimberly and pushing open the double doors marked "ER", it never occurred to me that I'd ever want – or need – anything more. Until that very moment, when I came face-to-face with something that almost ended me:
Bella Swan.
The second I walked into that ER my eyes were immediately drawn to the source of my demise. I felt my whole world slip, gravity cease, logic turn to nonsense. Her presence set every nerve on edge. Something came alive within me in that moment - something completely unknown and newly feral, born of smell and sight and venom and the beast within.
And she just sat there, rolling her eyes at her hovering, concerned father, unknowingly ending my existence as I'd come to understand it. The force of her scent was the first thing that threatened my grip on my inner beast. Her aroma was raw and pure and heady and its magnetism pulled at me with the force of a black hole.
Flashes of what my body demanded happen hit me like one tsunami after another. Pressing her against the concrete wall, pants ripped to shreds at our feet, her legs around me, heels dug into my thighs, eyes closed in ecstasy, screaming for more. I blinked quickly before the next vision pummeled my consciousness: my mouth buried in her neck - that delicious skin with its tempting warmth so barely contained - as her warmth squeezed my cock. Physically pushed backwards by the next vision, I stepped back as behind my eyelids as I took her on all fours, head thrown back in rapture, my fingers tangled in her hair.
I wanted her. Everything else disappeared. I had to have her in that moment, no matter the consequences, the witnesses, the wrongness of the entire situation. I wanted to growl and thrust and hear her lose her sweet innocence. I would end anyone who interfered. Kimberly, Chief Swan, whoever. She was mine for the taking and I would have her.
Shockingly enough, it was Kimberly who saved us all from a scene in that second as she absent-mindedly slipped Bella's chart into my hands as she turned to address Tyler's wounds. The feel of the metal sliding into my hands seemed to whisper the word "chart" to me from my subconscious. My mind snapped back to the present, to reality. I had to say something in the next second or two or I was going to draw attention to the situation.
Quickly rejecting the idea of trying to figure out what was happening to me or allowing my fantasies to go any further, I strictly focused on how to contain it. I needed to figure out how to hide the raging erection and quash the growl that was starting to rumble in my chest.
Feigning a cough, I stifled the growl. Almost too quickly for human eyes, I flipped through the chart then lowered it strategically in front of my groin as I approached the object of my very sudden and very serious desire. Every step closer to her became more difficult as I had to fight the urge to grab her and run for the door.
As I approached, she seemed to size me up, surprising me. Most women either immediately reacted with all the signs of attraction or they plastered on the fake smile required in a small town when meeting someone new you obviously already knew everything about. She did neither. I felt like I was being evaluated. And for some reason, that didn't help with the erection problem.
I regained my calm demeanor, at least on the outside, and introduced myself, letting her know I'd heard about the accident and how lucky she was. I flashed my penlight in her eyes, looking for any signs of concussion as she continued to study me. She then very calmly made it clear by her tone and her words that not only had Edward saved her but that it came with strange circumstances. She knew something wasn't normal, and she was looking for me to clue her in.
I, on the other hand, was barely containing myself this close to her, but the fluttering of her heart when she mentioned Edward's name was not lost on me. She was relaxed, inquisitive, and comfortable being so near to me, which was odd in itself, as the normal first reaction to being around one of us is immediate and instinctual reluctance. She, however, let me hover right next to her, unaware of the severe need to take her swirling beneath my composed appearance and kind words.
I acknowledged her gratitude for the convenient help of my son and quickly changed the subject, needing a way out of the room so I could analyze what was happening to me. I told her she was free to go but let the Chief know what to look for as far as possible latent signs of a concussion. And as I forced myself to smile in a friendly, rather than predatory, manner at her, I planned my escape route. I needed to be alone and I could hear Edward and Rosalie approaching the hospital, most likely to confront me about the accident and what Bella was prying to know. I would qualm their fears and lock myself in my office away from his prying mind until I could figure this mess out.
The only problem now was how to hide my now throbbing erection from two very observant vampires…
O.O
Is it wrong that I so enjoy Carlisle's torment? It's just that he's so together all the time, that to know that underneath the surface he's FREAKING THE FUCK OUT is so attractive to me. Hmm…why is that?
My own psychoanalysis aside, please do review and let me know what you think about this crazy phenomenon that has grabbed poor Dr. Cullen by the balls – so to speak – and just won't let him go.
Until next time…probably on the weekend! A longer chapter awaits you!