In order to do this, I had to get past the good doctor exterior and overlook the three centuries of age difference and life experiences between these two. In order to get over the "robbing the cradle" thoughts, I tried to wrap myself around the idea of how these two characters could relate to each other.
Well, rather than dipping my toe into a story that would ease me into this pairing, I dove in head first with the smutty goodness of The Cassolette. MaBarberElla has managed to keep Carlisle's outward demeanor intact while adding a whole other level of pervy-goodness brewing beneath the surface.
Outwardly, everything appears as it should. Carlisle is a skilled doctor, dedicated to his job and his family. He comes home to his loving wife, Esme, and is the eternal patriarch to his immortal family. Always kind and ever dignified, Carlisle hides behind a well-polished and controlled facade. Who knew it would take one human girl to bring his walls crashing down?
A patch of ice and a speeding van set things into motion. Carlisle had no idea why this young, innocent girl had his mind reeling with tainted thoughts. The object of his own son's desire was suddenly and inexplicably the object of his inner-most fantasies.
Like the scientist he is, he threw himself into research trying everything he could think of to quell the desires that overwhelmed him every time Bella was near (and even when she wasn't). Her scent, her blush, the look in her eyes—they made Carlisle burn and ache for her. He needed to channel his urges, to find a more acceptable release.
When I had passed her in the hallway, she'd smiled at me, a friendly gesture. She had no idea what I was feeling… or more importantly, of what I was capable. In fact, she had no idea what any man could make her feel, much less me.
I've studied people for hundreds of years. I know how women responded to certain touches, certain words, certain expressions… breath against their skin, a brushing of hair against their lips. I was a scientist, and even if I'd done so without crossing any lines of adultery, I had studied women's reactions to men. To vampires. To me. To each other. I had studied these things just as I'd studied almost every other aspect of human behavior: with tenacity and a fastidious attention to detail. It was my nature. I hadn't spent more time on these aspects of human nature than any other, as they'd not held any more interest for me than any other aspect of humans I'd studied. But now…now, it was all coming into play. Or not coming into play, as it were.
And because of my research, I knew things that men who had only one lifetime to dedicate to discovering would never know.
I knew how to elicit thrills with words.
I knew how to induce a shudder with a well placed accidental touch or soft expression.
I had made women feel this way just to experiment with what their reactions would be, but I'd also made women tremble with want without actually making an effort to do so. My natural attractiveness and my vampire allure drew women to me without my conscious interference, which was easily proven with a quick sniff of the air. The scent of arousal was so easy to detect: a heady concoction of pheromones, a dash of adrenaline swirling in blood, and the all-telling smell of a woman's want emanating from between her legs. What a lovely perfume. I've always enjoyed it secretly, only Edward possibly knowing - having heard an errant thought from my head when he was first changed, before I had become skilled in blocking him out.
The perfume that emanated from Bella, however, had the power to make me stutter and crazy with want. It was a physical response and was so intense, the first time it happened, I felt as I'd been slammed into a wall with the force of the reaction. That moment I realized that, whereas Edward's body was attuned so finely to the song of Bella's blood, it was a song of a different nature that made me tremble with want.
My steps faltered that first day, but I corrected them before human eyes could take notice. With each step, I tightened down the control that I had worked so diligently to put into place over the centuries; only this control was not keeping me from drinking blood. It kept me from taking innocence.
Her complete and utter innocence added fuel to the well-stoked fire raging within me. I was a vampire, but I was a man first, and nothing was more alluring than a fresh rosebud so tightly wound on the vine. Unlike most men, though, these feelings brought shame to my unbeating heart. I shouldn't feel this way about my son's girlfriend, about a young woman. I was a husband, a father, a confidante, a leader, and a friend, and lusting after my son's girlfriend did little for my feelings of self worth.
I couldn't deny the physical reaction, though, and had tried to determine whence it came. I'd had no luck in determining its origins, nor why the power over me her body held was increasing in intensity. I only knew I was beginning to falter in shielding my thoughts and concerned I'd slip up with Edward as witness. I was also starting to lose hold of my cool demeanor in her presence.
For the duration of the drive home from work, I'd tried to piece together a plan on how to carefully set up mental barriers to keep my libido in check. If I was unsuccessful… well, I didn't want to think about those consequences.
*Licks lips* Oh! I'm sorry. Was I doing something? Oh, right!
Well, if that's not enough to get you hooked, then I don't know what is. All I can say is that I can't wait till the next update of The Cassolette.
Summary: The perfume emanating from her made me stutter, crazy with want. Not want to drain her dry - I wanted her alive, heart pumping, squirming in pleasure. I had long ago mastered restraint, but it was slipping. I had never faltered, not ever. Until her.