Emmett knew enough not to pursue the topic, but he was pretty sure the compliment got recognized. The truth was that he wouldn't ever stand for Rosalie doing anything like this in public-- he knew how she felt about it, and more than that, he wasn't about to share the wealth. So, he was completely happy getting-- as far as he was concerned-- the world's best strip show for his own private viewing.
"Oh, you know I do," he answered, voice turning a couple of tones lower. He was always amazed at how supple her flesh could feel under his hands, no matter how stony and hard vampires could feel to normal people. And he was definitely imagining those breasts under his hands, especially once the last slip of white satin was gone.
He'd never gotten into studying art much, not like Carlisle or Ed, but Emmett knew enough about it to recognize Rosalie's body for the perfection it was. That wasn't too difficult, though, when she swung her ass around for his view. It was all Emmett could do to stay in the chair with his hands to himself. He did notice, though, where Rosalie's hands had gotten to. He shivered at the touch of one, but the other got a comment.