AN: Another day, another chapter. Thanks again to my betas, CallistoLexx (who has a great story, Blame it on the Cuervo) and Tamelaine. Also, to the Twinster, for just being herself. You know you complete me.
"Everlong" by the Foo Fighters is the song in the first part of the chapter. PLEASE go listen to it. You will NOT regret it. Songs are up on my profile, as always.
Now, I hate to do this because I generally despise people who beg for reviews, but guys, seriously. I have SO many author alerts and story alerts, and a kind of pathetic number of reviews lately. I pour my heart into these chapters and I honestly just want to know what you think. So I'm not going to threaten you or anything, but yeah, I am begging a little.
RPOV
I climbed out of my car and looked up at Emmett's big empty white house with more than a little trepidation.
Emmett had called me early yesterday morning before I could even get into school, an overwhelming excitement leaking into his voice. He hadn't even been able to wait to see me to let me know the good news. He'd managed to get out of an upcoming family camping trip and would be staying alone at the house.
I'd immediately known what that meant. We'd been together for a tumultuous yet incredibly exciting six weeks, and this was our first real opportunity to be alone together. I would have to be stupid not to know what that meant.
Not that Emmett had ever pushed me—in fact, I felt like maybe I was the one pushing him during some of our rather steamy makeout sessions in his Jeep or my R32. More than once I'd tried to take things to the next level but he'd always stopped me, saying that he respected me too much to take me in a "subpar performance in the back of a car."
While I'd appreciated his concern about showing me a good time, I just wanted to throw his fine ass onto the hood and make him eat his words because I knew that anything that happened between us couldn't be bad.
We were so good together and I was beginning to wonder, even with my persuasive tactics, how Emmett had been holding out because I was so on the cusp of totally losing control. I'd had no idea before now what lust was really like. Now I knew; and I was dying to find out even more.
And tonight's the night, I thought as I opened the passenger door and took out my small overnight bag.
I couldn't deny that now that the moment was finally here, I was feeling more than a little nervous. I'd been expecting the actual act itself to happen more spontaneously and the idea of planning for it instead caused a herd of crazed butterflies to start flapping in my stomach.
I looked up again towards the house and saw Emmett looking down at me from a top floor window, beaming with happiness and I couldn't help but beam back.
Shit, I was so far gone.
I walked up the driveway to the front door, and surprisingly when I opened the screen door to knock, Emmett was already there, nearly bouncing on his feet with excitement. With any other guy I would have believed that it was because he was about to get laid—but I already knew better with Emmett. Fuck it, he was probably more excited about having me here to work on his cars with him, uninterrupted, than the possibility that we might have sex.
What the fuck was I talking about? Of course we were going to have sex.
"Rosie," he murmured in the sweetest voice, pulling me close to him so quickly that I barely had time to drop my purse and bag before he started kissing me long and hard and deep. His hands snaked through my hair, because, like always when we were together, I wore it down at his request. Turned out he had a serious thing for blond hair. Especially when it was mine.
"Hey you," I said, slightly pulling away from his lips, and giving him the opportunity to lick and suck his way down the side of my neck.
"Emmett!" I exclaimed, trying to move away from him so we could talk before he proceeded to turn every bone in my body into mush.
"What is it?" he asked, lifting his head so his eyes could meet mine directly. "Can't I kiss you?" His voice was whiny and petulant like a little boy's and I was so far gone that I even thought it was cute.
"Oh, you can. Just not at this second."
Emmett stuck out his bottom lip and pouted just enough that I wanted to kiss it all better, which totally went against the purpose.
I'd tried to talk myself into informing Emmett about my virginal status ever since the phone call yesterday morning. On the drive over here, I'd given myself an enormously unsuccessful pep talk. Unsuccessful because now that I was faced with a moment where I could tell him face-to-face, I, Rosalie Hale herself, was chickening out.
I was so incredibly lame. Unbelievably lame. Was I scared that he'd not want me if he found out?
Honestly, I wasn't sure. After all, he'd stopped us from having sex before in his car because he wanted to make it good. Emmett was clearly a caring person—but would those same feelings jeopardize us finally sealing the deal tonight? I didn't want them to.
"Rosie?" Emmett asked, a questioning note in his voice at my reluctance to tell him what was on my mind.
Chicken shit, chicken shit, chicken shit . . .
"Nothing," I told him brightly, grabbing him by the shirt front and dragging him close to me and I kissed him. The second his lips touched mine I knew I'd already made my decision. I wasn't going to tell him.
Of course, not telling him meant that we had to do this sooner rather than later, before I totally lost my nerve.
I attacked Emmett's mouth with mine, and we'd been together long enough for me to know what his typical response was when I was aggressive; he loved it and he wanted more.
Before I could even grasp what was happening, in between wild, completely out of control kisses Emmett was slowly pulling me towards the staircase.
He wanted to go upstairs. Perfect. I redoubled my efforts, our tongues moving in perfect tandem, until Emmett finally pulled away.
"Rose," he gasped for breath, "you're going to kill me."
"And wouldn't you die a happy man," I told him rather smugly, letting my hands slide up his shirt to caress his incredible abs. I wanted him naked and on top of me, before I stopped to consider that sleeping with him was like running across a slowly dismantling bridge—there was no way back.
"You know I would," he moaned into my shoulder, his hands dragging me even closer and molding my body to his. "Let's go upstairs," he finally murmured in my ear.
Perfect. The magic words.
I nodded, and I tried to take a steady breath as we climbed the stairs, except I felt like I'd been running a marathon and all I could manage were unsteady, shallow gasps.
Finally, we came to Emmett's bedroom. I'd been in here before, but never for more than a few minutes at a time. When we were at Emmett's, we were almost always in the garage, working on the cars. Or in the kitchen, letting Esme feed us.
The moment we were inside the bedroom, Emmett grabbed me close again, like he couldn't bear to let me go, and I knew the feeling was mutual. I held onto him like he was my lifeline as we stumbled toward the big bed. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on the pleasure surging through me at Emmett's kisses—not on the fear that was threatening to cut off my oxygen supply.
My knees hit the bed and I fell back, my hair flying around me. Emmett leaned over me, smoothing it back from my face. "You're so beautiful," he whispered and his heart was in his eyes as he gazed at me. A lump formed in my throat and I recited to myself the reasons that I wasn't telling him.
I smiled waveringly, and I hoped he missed the tremble of my hand as I reached up to pull him down towards me.
"No," he said, beginning to turn away. "Let me do something first."
"What?" I asked, praying that he wasn't changing his mind. We had to do this now before I chickened out completely. And I never wanted him to see the part of me that was scared and weak—he loved the strong, relentless, resilient Rosalie. I had to be that right now.
He didn't answer, but went over to his CD player, turned it on, and inserted a CD he'd picked out of his huge selection. I was too far away to see what it was, but the moment the song started, my eyes threatened to fill with tears again. This was why I loved this man. He was incredibly thoughtful and thorough in his love for me.
Hello, I've waited here for you. . .everlong. . . .
Pulling his shirt over his head, Emmett stalked back towards the bed, smiling mischievously at me. "Now where were we?" he teasingly asked, as I scooted back and he covered me with his body, dark blue eyes meeting mine.
"Right here," I told him as I pulled him down towards me, this time more successfully. His lips met mine, and our kiss was long and deep.
Tonight, I throw myself into and out of the red, out her head she sang. . .
I heard shoes hitting the floor, and Emmett's hand caressed the soft skin of my stomach, before traveling upwards to cup the weight of one breast in his hand. I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it upwards, taking no chances and refusing to let the butterflies in my stomach take over.
Come down, and waste away with me, down with me . .
My hands ran up and down his back, and pleasure shot through me as Emmett gently tweaked one nipple, then the other, through the fabric of my bra. I moaned into his mouth and finally he slipped a hand under my back to release the clasp.
When my bra was finally off, he pulled up a little and gazed down at my half-naked form worshipfully. "Beautiful," he murmured again, "so god damned beautiful."
Slow . . .how you wanted it to be; I'm over my head, out of her head she sang . . .
Then his head was back close to mine and his hands and lips were everywhere at once it seemed, as I arched into him, grinding my needy core against his hard length. "Emmett," I gasped, the nerves dissolving in the onslaught of pleasure, "please."
And I wonder. . .when I sing along with you. . . .
He chuckled a bit into my skin. "You are so impatient."
"Of course I am," I snapped back with a little heat, "I want you. Now."
"You do?" he asked. "Like this?" His hand slid down my body and began to unbutton and unzip my jeans. I wiggled out of them as fast as I could, and he laughed again at my eagerness.
If anything could ever feel this real forever; if anything could ever be this good again. . .
A groan came out of Emmett's throat as my bare legs hit his jean-covered ones. "Just a sec," he purred into my ear, "let me get out of these. I want to feel you."
"I want you to, baby," I murmured back. He shed his pants so quickly I could barely assimilate how incredibly gorgeous he looked with only a pair of navy blue cotton boxers slung low on his hips and a incredibly sexual smile lighting up his face.
The only thing I'll ever ask of you . . .
"Rosie, I'm going to treat you so good," he moaned as I rubbed my legs along his.
"Good," I cooed, "that's what I like to hear."
You've got to promise not to stop when I say when . . .she sang. . .
Almost in direct response to my words, he rubbed me through my silky thong and I nearly lost it. Nothing had ever felt so good, ever.
"Emmett!" I shrieked.
"Oh yeah, baby, I love to hear you scream my name. And it's going to happen a lot more." He pushed the underwear aside and true to his word, I moaned again, loudly. I couldn't believe that I hadn't internally combusted yet, from the way that his fingers dragged up through my slit and rubbed against the bundle of nerves that circled at the top.
Breathe out, so I can breathe you in. . .
I babbled incoherently as Emmett toyed with me until my hips were lifting off the bed in supplication.
"Please," I begged again, desperate for him.
Hold you in. . .
He groaned a little as my hips bucked upwards again.
"Rosalie," he ground out, "you need to stop that.
"This?" I asked innocently, as one hand reached out and wrapped itself around his hard length.
"Oh lord Jesus, yes," he hissed, and I knew I had him, literally, in the palm of my hand.
"Does that mean you want me?" I asked, slowly pulling the boxers down and letting my fingers run up his dick. I felt only a momentary panic at how large it was and how it was ever going to fit inside me. Almost nobody ever died from sex. This was totally possible.
And now I know you've always been . . .
"God, yes." His tone was desperate as I slowly twisted my hand, pumping it slightly.
"Then take me," I told him, voice not entirely steady.
I saw him hesitate for a split second, then clearly make up his mind as he reached into a drawer on his bedside table and pull out a condom. The butterflies were threatening to make another entrance, but I tamped them back down. I wanted this and I was determined that nothing was going to stop us now.
Out of your head, out of my head I sang . . .
Emmett settled back between my legs, and I fought a rising panic. All I had to do was pretend I liked it right away—he never had to know he'd taken my virginity.
The head of his cock pushed in my entrance, and he moaned and closed his eyes. Good, I thought, keep your eyes closed, so you can't see that I'm grimacing in pain.
He pushed a little farther in and I was not surprised to find that though definitely tight, it wasn't totally unpleasant so far. In fact, it was almost the opposite. Then suddenly, he hit what felt like a wall, and he stilled, eyes popping open.
"Rosalie," he said in a low voice, "is there something you didn't tell me?"
I felt panic well inside of me. "I'm a virgin?" I whispered.
Emmett's head dropped onto my shoulder. "Rose, why didn't you tell me?"
I closed my eyes in guilt and rage and frustration. "I just. . .couldn't. I just wanted you to have it without you knowing."
"Look at me, Rosie," he demanded as he shifted inside of me just slightly. "I love you."
And I wonder. . .when I sing along with you. . .
The tears finally began to seep out of my eyelids. "I love you too, Emmett," I said so quietly he could probably barely hear me, but he did anyway, because he smiled so wide, I thought his face might crack in half.
"Okay, good, because I still want you, but I know this is going to hurt you. And I don't want you to hate me for it."
"I couldn't," I protested, but before the word was halfway out of my mouth, with one short quick thrust, Emmett broke through the barrier, and I gasped in pain.
"God, I'm sorry," Emmett murmured to me, "but it had to be done and I'm honored you let me do it."
"I wanted you to," I said again, in a small voice. It was the most precious thing I had to give—why wouldn't I have wanted it to go to him?
It was in that moment I realized that the pain had almost disappeared and I found I rather . . .liked. . .having him inside of me. In fact, I rather loved it.
If everything could ever feel this real forever . . .
"Emmett," I gasped, moving slightly, feeling him sink in a little deeper. "More."
He laughed a little and slid in, slowly, until he was in me completely. My mouth dropped open a little bit and the smile on his face wobbled a little bit, turning more and more intense by the second. "God, Rose, you're so damn hot and tight. I've got to. . ." he groaned.
He moved back a little and I moaned along with him. I'd never felt so close to him as I did in that moment and it felt so god-damned good.
If anything could ever be this good again. . .
Emmett picked up speed a little bit and within thirty seconds, with just a touch of his finger on my clit, I exploded into a million messy pieces.
"Oh god," I repeated over and over. "God, Emmett."
The only thing I'll ever ask of you . . .
My orgasm triggered his and he shuddered and groaned over me.
"So good," he whimpered into my shoulder.
I had to agree with him. I'd never felt anything like that—never even dreamed that anything so pleasurable could exist.
So I said the only thing that I could to thank him for what he'd given me.
You've got to promise not to stop when I say when. . .
"Emmett, I love you."
"I love you too," he said, burying his head in my hair.
She sang. . .
"Rosalie!" Emmett's voice snapped me back into reality. Well, not exactly reality—the memory had been reality too, in its own way, but back into the reality of our current situation.
I started the R32 and the engine purred to life. I shifted slightly in my seat, feeling the arousal that had leaked out of me during my memory.
That memory was both my most beloved and most hated I had of Emmett. Most beloved because I'd never felt so cherished and adored that night. Most hated because three days later, I'd found him with Lauren Mallory in his arms.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
Not even a little. Not at all. Not even close.
"Fine. I'm fine."
Emmett sent the seat back, and stretched his long legs out. "You just seem jumpy, is all."
"And who could blame me? That was one of the weirdest dinners I've ever sat through."
"No kidding. So where are we going?"
"Let's go play some pool," I improvised. Obviously he wasn't going home—Bella and Edward's abrupt exit had painted that picture pretty clearly.
"Great idea," Emmett enthused, but all I wanted to do was go hide so he wouldn't see the remnants of bitter love lingering in my face. That I'd chosen this moment to relive that particular memory either meant I was cracked or that I'd already spent way too much time in his company lately.
It was for this reason I'd be encouraging Alice and Jasper. The faster they sealed things up between them, the less I'd have to play matchmaking older sister with Emmett. Spending time with him was wreaking havoc on my sleep and on my nerves. I needed to get away, get some time away from the memories that were plaguing me before I gave in to the feelings that were threatening to envelop me all over again.
And Emmett? He was so jovial and friendly lately, almost so completely platonic that most of the time, I felt safe indulging in his presence. But every once in a while, I'd catch him looking at me a certain way—probably much the same way I looked at him when I thought he wasn't paying attention.
This worried me, and worried me so much that I'd even called up Bella today and suggested tonight's dinner in an attempt to speed things along for Alice and Jasper. I knew I couldn't take much more. My will was buckling and I knew if it cracked all I'd get would be rejection. Emmett hadn't wanted me six years ago, and he certainly didn't want me now. End of story. Now if I could only really believe that.
I parked a block away from a local bar that I knew had excellent pool tables. I dug for my purse in the backseat, and went to open my door, but Emmett was surprisingly already there, gallantly opening it for me. I felt a corner of my heart melting at the endearing smile on his face and the prominent dimples in his cheeks, but I forced myself to be strong and not smile back like I wanted to.
"Thanks," I said as shortly as I thought I could get away with, but like always, Emmett had me figured out, and he smirked a little as we walked up to the bar.
"You know, I was just trying to be nice. Nothing wrong with nice."
About fifteen rude retorts scrolled through my head, but I literally bit my lip so that none of them could escape. Emmett and I were trying to be friends—there was no need for me to be so damn hostile.
Yeah, cause you know if you're not hostile and all up in his face, you're going to be all up in his junk.
I ignored that part of my consciousness. That part of me must be a closet nymphomaniac.
After showing our IDs to the bartender, and walking into the smoky bar, I turned to Emmett. "You want to go find us a table, and I'll get some beers?"
He nodded and took off towards the pool tables, while I walked towards the bar.
There were several men, all youngish and alone, sitting on bar stools watching a baseball game on a TV behind the bar. I ignored them, but of course, blond hair and a shapely ass were like magnets for the opposite sex.
"Hi, I'm Mark," the one closest to me said, and extended his hand. "Can I buy you a drink?"
I ignored him, hoping like an annoying fly he'd eventually go away without me expending the energy of smacking him down.
The bartender approached. "Two Drop Tops," I told him, and slid a twenty across the hardwood bar.
Out of the corner of my eye, Mark was still staring at me like he'd been electrocuted. Or rather, I should specify, he was staring at my tits.
I rolled my eyes. Men were so unoriginal.
"Thanks, keep the change," I told the bartender, who smiled at me, and miracle of miracles, his eyes actually briefly met mine before descending to breast level.
I grabbed the beers and turned to find Emmett but I was trapped. There was a man right behind me—well, right in front of me now.
Not "Mark," but yet another one. I barely suppressed another eye roll.
He opened his mouth to introduce himself and I snapped at him before he even had a chance to get a word out.
"Listen. I'm not interested. I'm here with someone else. Of the male persuasion. Get over yourselves and move away please. You're seriously invading my personal space."
I put on my best bitchy face, and unsurprisingly the guy cleared out like his very life was in danger. Which it was.
"I see you didn't need any of my help," a voice I knew all too well drawled. I turned the other direction and Emmett was standing there, one hand on a muscular hip, his mouth twitching with amusement as he tried not to dissolve into laughter.
"I'm fine thanks," I snarked. After Tweedledum and Tweedledee I was in no mood for the male sex. Even if the particular member of the male sex dripped muscle and had the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes God had ever put in a face.
"Need any help with those?" Emmett asked, gesturing to the beers, keeping his temper remarkably well.
I knew I was being a bitch, and while those idiots at the bar had deserved it, Emmett didn't. Well, theoretically he did, but I was finding it difficult to dwell on that afternoon six years ago these days.
My inability was frustrating and I nearly felt like I'd betrayed myself. Emmett was supposed to be the enemy.
Emmett had reserved a pool table near the back and I sat and sipped my beer as he racked the balls expertly and picked a cue stick. Lazily lifting myself from the chair, I meandered over to look at what was probably an extremely poor selection of cue sticks. As I examined each choice, I grew more and more frustrated. This was why I almost never played pool out.
I felt rather than heard Emmett come up behind me. "See anything you like?"
"No," I scowled. "These are terrible."
"Well we'll both be equally bad then," he said with a trace of amusement in his voice, the air expelled out of his lungs shifting the hair above my ear.
I tried to stop the shiver that went up my spine at having him so close to me, but I couldn't do it. Inwardly, I slumped in defeat. I still wanted him, but there was no way I could trust him. This was why I needed to get away from him as fast as possible.
"I'm never bad," I argued as I finally picked one from the rack and whipped around to face him.
He looked first at the cue then at me. His eyes sparkled with hidden mischief. "With that cue, you sure as hell will be."
I lightly punched him on the shoulder and couldn't help but smile. "Bastard. But you should know I never lose."
I sidled over to the table and picked up a block of chalk and began running it over the tip of my cue.
"Neither do I, so it should be a real interesting game."
Emmett was the only guy I'd ever met who could actually meet all my challenges head on without cowering. I was going to enjoy playing him, I decided as he leaned over the table to take a quick practice strike with his stick. The angle pulled his shirt tight on his broad muscular shoulders and let me stare at his incredibly hot ass without interruption.
The trick would be to not become distracted by all of the gorgeous male on display.
And that, I thought with a toss of my blond hair, would be a cake walk because he was going to so be distracted first.
"Are you ready?" he asked me, and I nodded. Wordlessly, I let him break the balls beautifully, with a gorgeously powerful stroke. Straight and even, with just enough spin.
And he sank two balls, both stripes. In spite of myself, I was fairly impressed and a twinge of awe resonated in the vicinity of my heart but I steadfastly ignored it.
"Good shot," I told him, with as little enthusiasm as I could communicate.
Emmett laughed, and caught my hands in his. "You're such a bitch, Rosie. Why? You were so nice at dinner. Did I offend you?"
"No," I told him shortly, grabbing my hands back. "Sorry," I added, with a bit of a softer tone. What was I supposed to tell him? I just remembered the first time we had sex and it reminded me how much you betrayed me and how much I want to have you again all in the same instant?
God, what was wrong with me?
"Did you miss?" I asked solicitously, wondering why he was waiting for me to shoot.
He shrugged and I instinctively knew that he hadn't missed at all. He'd simply been playing defensively, setting up ball positions for both my shot and his subsequent turns. Bastard. I needed to get my head in this game and stop moping if I wanted to have any chance of winning.
I approached the table like it was a chess board, wishing that I'd been paying attention during his earlier shot. Finally, I found a solid I liked the look of, and I bent down, knowing Emmett was getting a clear and full view of my ass.
I let the cue stick slide smoothly through my hands, and watched with satisfaction as it hit the pocket perfectly. Damn, I was good.
"Not bad," Emmett enthused, and I shot him a calculated look.
"Pool is all about angles and I excelled at geometry in school," I told him succinctly, though he clearly was not a pool novice.
He was behind me again, before I even realized it, and before I could bend down to take another shot, he was surrounding me, all rippling masculinity.
"You were good at other things, too, I remember," he whispered in my ear, and I could feel the heat of his breath wash over me. I shifted backwards slightly and came into direct contact with a hardened extremity that I remembered all too well. Okay, so he still wanted me. Not that this was a big surprise or anything. Every man wanted me.
I turned around and he was even closer than he'd been at the cue stick rack. So close, in fact, that the top of my head nearly touched the bottom of his chin. I cursed at myself for remembering all too well how perfectly we'd fit together, both clothed and naked.
"You remember?" I asked a little innocently.
"Rosie," he said, his voice a little rough with what I hoped was need, "I remember it all."
"Really?" I asked. I was way too breathless and interested, but fuck it all, I couldn't help myself anymore. Being with Emmett was like playing with lighter fluid and a match but I couldn't seem to remember all the reasons I didn't want to get burned again.
"Every single thing. I remember the way you looked under my cars, and under me. I remember how we'd sneak off to Roberts' classroom to make out. I remember driving to La Push with you, to look at the stars. I remember how god damned ridiculous you looked climbing down your tree. I couldn't forget even if I wanted to. It's burned into my brain." His expression was so intense, I didn't know how to read it, but if I was being honest with myself, I didn't know how to read or respond to any of that. I was drawing a complete fucking blank.
"Uh," I wavered helplessly, and his gaze drifted to my lips and I knew what was about to happen, and I felt suddenly paralyzed, as if there was nothing I could do to stop—as if fate was stepping in and lending us a much-needed hand.
But right before his lips could meet mine in that fateful kiss, I felt a buzzing in my pocket. My cell phone. I wasn't sure whether to scream in frustration or shout a hallelujah chorus. All I knew was that part of me was profoundly relieved that this, whatever it was between us that was going on, would be put off for at least another day.
I dug in my pocket and he moved away slightly. For one mad moment, I wanted to grab him and drag him back but I resisted it, barely. I heard him sigh just as I looked at the caller ID on the phone.
"It's Alice," I said apologetically, knowing that he knew I didn't have to take the call. But I knew I had to, for my own sanity.
He inclined his head, nodding that he understood. But I could see the same relief and anger warring in his eyes that was inside of me. We were in the same boat. We both hated and wanted each other.
"Alice?" I said, putting the phone to my ear.
"Rose!" she shrieked excitedly. "I have great news."
"Okay, shoot." I leaned against the pool table as I watched Emmett gulp his whole beer down in three swallows. Not good.
"I pulled a few last minute strings and guess what I got us? All six of us?"
"I couldn't possibly have a clue."
"Foo Fighters tickets in one of my clients' special box suites at the Rose Garden. In two days!"
My stomach plummeted to the ground.
"The Foo Fighters? I didn't even realize they were coming to Portland." Yeah, because I'd totally rejected their music in the last six years, for obvious reasons.
At the name of the band, Emmett's head shot up and his gaze locked with mine, and I knew from his expression and my own, that we were so screwed.
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