A/N I've been looking forward to starting this new story for a while, so I hope you'll enjoy it. The pairing isn't one I've written for some time; Paul has always been one of my favourites and he gets a leading role in this story. It's all human and will be from Jacob's POV. As usual, it's rated 'M' for adult scenes and it's M/M (slash) right from the beginning.

If you'd like to see photo illustrations for the story, the banner I had made by Mina Rivera and receive updates and spoilers, check out and 'like' my Facebook page; just search for "hankslady".

Disclaimer: All of the characters associated with Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer, I'm merely borrowing them for the duration of the story.

CHAPTER ONE

I slipped quietly out of bed and went to sit by the window. I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to disturb Leah by tossing and turning. I slouched on the window seat and rested my head against the glass, peering down at the bright lights of the city that never sleeps. I constantly had to remind myself how lucky I was; how I'd fallen on my feet with so many things. Twenty-eight years old was still considered very young when I thought about what I'd achieved.

It had started with me renting a space in a warehouse using my college fund and buying well-used gym equipment being sold off by bigger and better establishments. I had offered gym membership at a cut price to those who couldn't afford the fees of my competition and my venture grew so rapidly that I barely had time to stand still and I started to become the competition. Soon I was hiring staff, buying better equipment and eventually renting a floor in a larger building to move to when my warehouse space was no longer adequate. Now my business thrived, filled with several pieces of each cardio machine available, weight machines and free weights, plus two mirrored rooms for classes. I employed personal trainers, aerobics instructors and a masseuse, had installed a sauna and steam room, and a small coffee shop in one corner of the building which offered healthy drinks and snacks all day.

The money began to increase from a steady flow to a flood and I was finally able to move my small family from the tiny apartment in Queens to a two-bedroom penthouse in Manhattan, just six blocks from the gym. It had taken nine years, but when I looked back on it, it didn't seem that long. The time had flown by since I graduated highschool and cancelled my college applications in order to find work instead and take care of Leah.

Like many couples, we had been careless when we started dating, too full of young love and physical excitement to think about the consequences. She discovered she was pregnant a month before graduation and all of our plans for the future rapidly changed. Her parents were appalled that their little girl had gotten herself into such a situation and put pressure on her to have a termination, which she had no intention of doing. My father, although angry, was very fond of Leah and allowed her to move in with us when things became too unbearable for her in her parents' home. His condition was that we marry before she started showing.

Marriage wasn't something either of us had even spoken about. We had been dating for six months and planning to go to college. We were in love and imagined a future together, but that had been as far as it had gone and now we felt that we had no choice. We needed Dad to support us until I could get work and find somewhere for us to live and he wouldn't have us living in his house with a child on the way without a ring on Leah's finger. My upbringing had been very strict and when I thought about it, I knew he was right. I married Leah in front of a judge, using Mom's wedding ring, with only Dad and my best friend Embry as witnesses. We were eighteen and while part of me was excited about starting my life with the girl I loved and our child, the other part felt helpless and swept along with everything; it was almost as if I was having to say goodbye to a part of what I was.

I turned away from the window and looked at my sleeping wife, curled up on her side in the dim light. I was lucky, I told myself again. I had everything I could possibly want. It wasn't just the success of my business and of being able to provide this wonderful home for my family. Leah was beautiful, sexy and intelligent, strong and determined and she had been behind me every step of the way when I worked so hard for such long hours to get the gym going. In addition she was a fantastic mother to Sarah, named for my own mother. The little girl was the spitting image of Leah and I smiled now as I imagined her sleeping in the next room, her cat curled up on the end of her bed keeping her company.

A lot of people would have envied what I had, but there had always been something missing, something that I had done my best to forget about and much to my constant shame and guilt, failed to do. Dad had found out about it by accident before I met Leah and what followed had been rows and lectures, dictating to me the way I should live my life, telling me I was disgusting and perverted. I often wondered if that had been one of the reasons he had been so keen to push me into marriage, thinking it would somehow change me.

I sighed heavily and rose from the window seat, tiptoeing from the room to the kitchen to get a glass of water. It had been mine and Leah's tenth wedding anniversary that day. Embry's wife had come over to take care of Sarah while I took Leah out to celebrate. We had eaten in her favourite restaurant and I'd given her the gift I'd bought a month before - a pair of delicate diamond earrings which she had been overjoyed with. Ten years and in that time I'd managed to break my vows on four occasions. Four. And I knew that wouldn't be the end of it. I hated that I kept doing that to her and I always loathed myself afterwards, barely able to look at myself in the mirror when I shaved, but I couldn't seem to help it. I loved Leah and Sarah so much, but sometimes I just needed something else.

"Jacob? What's the matter, honey? Can't you sleep?" Leah's voice, barely above a whisper, startled me and I almost dropped the glass I held.

"Uh...no...just restless. I didn't want to disturb you."

She came to my side, sleepy-eyed, hair tangled, in a sheer white nightgown - another gift I'd given her recently, for her birthday - and slid her arms around my waist.

"Come back to bed."

I sipped some of the water and allowed her to lead me back to the bedroom, settling down into the comfortable four-poster. Leah snuggled against my side, her head on my shoulder, and I stroked her hair gently as she drifted back into sleep. Eventually I slept too, but when I woke I didn't feel rested and I had the beginnings of a headache behind my eyes. I lay still with my eyes closed, listening to Leah making breakfast for Sarah and feeding the cat, Sarah chattering excitedly about the games she had played with Marie Call before she went to bed the previous evening. I hauled myself out of bed and went to take a shower, shaking off my discomfort as I prepared to head for the gym. My manager would already have opened up so there was no need for me to hurry.

I joined Leah and Sarah for breakfast, promising to be back for lunch so that we could all spend the afternoon together. I wanted to have some extra time with Sarah before I took off the next day on a business trip that I'd been planning for the past week. A company in Boston had just launched a new rowing machine with a number of fun programmes to keep people interested and I intended to go there, try out the machine and if it was as good as I hoped, place an order for three of them. It would mean staying over for one night, which was something I wasn't particularly looking forward to. It put temptation too easily within reach.

I took Leah and Sarah to the movies to see Disney's latest blockbuster, 'Brave' and then to Lombardi's for pizza afterwards. When we returned home I packed an overnight bag so that I would be ready for an early start the next morning. I would be gone before Sarah had to get up for school, but hoped to be back in time for dinner on Tuesday.

I had a cab collect me at five-thirty Monday morning to take me to Newark and by ten-thirty, I was at my Boston hotel, having them store my overnight bag since it was too early to officially check in. I grabbed coffee and a snack and then found another cab to take me to FitWorx for my meeting with the management and to try out the new rowing machine. I had travelled in sweats over a t-shirt and shorts so there would be no need for me to change.

When I arrived I was shown straight into the manager's office for a brief chat first. I had met Andrew Leonard before when I had purchased some cross-training machines a couple years earlier and he clearly remembered me. He asked how things were going with my gym and eventually led me out of the office area to a part of the building where several demonstration machines were set up. The rowing machine was positioned by the left wall and a man was already sitting on the seat of it, bending forward and tapping at the control panel.

"You ready, Paul?" Andrew called out.

"Almost."

"Paul's fairly new here," he told me. "Took him on just a few months back as a demonstrator and assistant manager."

"Uh huh."

I tried to keep my eyes on Paul's face as he got up and strode towards us, but it was difficult. He was my height, clearly Native too with caramel skin, black hair and deep brown eyes. His broad shoulders and chest bulged and his arms popped as he curled his hands into fists briefly before he reached us. My mouth went dry and I snapped my eyes back to his face to see a slight smirk on it.

"Paul Lahote, this is Jacob Black," Andrew introduced.

Paul nodded and reached out to shake my hand. "From New York, right?"

"Yes. Good to meet you."

After the brief greeting, he turned and indicated I should follow him to the rowing machine. Sitting down again, he demonstrated the easy-to-use control panel which had several modes of work-outs, one of the most amusing being an animated picture of a boat moving across the screen. The faster you rowed, the faster the boat moved, but as you progressed, a helicopter would drop a passenger into the boat every so often, which would slow it down. In turn the operator would need to work harder to reach the finish line while at the left side of the screen, the ominous fin of 'Jaws' became visible as it chased the boat. I let out a short laugh and stepped back as Paul started the programme and began to row in order to show me exactly what happened if the shark caught up to the boat - the passengers vanished and the rowing became easy again. This was just one of the available workouts - there were a few similar to this and several more serious training programmes.

My eyes drifted from the screen to Paul's arms as he rowed, the muscles bulging and flexing, a thin damp line appearing down the back of his shirt. I felt my face warming and I switched my eyes back to the screen again determinedly. Why did the new guy have to be so damned hot? It was a relief that once this demonstration was over and I had tried out the machine myself, all I needed to do was deal with the paperwork if I decided to place an order - and I was pretty sure I would - and then I would be out of there.

"It's all yours." Paul got to his feet and stepped back, pulling the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his damp face. I caught a glimpse of several rows of perfect abs before he lowered the garment again and I averted my eyes quickly. I'd just celebrated my wedding anniversary, for God's sake. I wouldn't let myself get distracted like this again.

I spent five minutes trying out the machine and then followed Andrew back to his office, relieved when Paul didn't accompany us. Within another twenty minutes I had ordered three of the machines and paid the deposit, arranging a delivery date for a month's time at which point I would be invoiced for the balance. It was a lot of money, but I knew many of my regulars would enjoy the new machines so it would be worth it. I stayed to drink the coffee Andrew poured for me from the machine in his office and then I was on the way back to the hotel, with nothing else to do for the rest of the day.

I wondered at the likelihood of getting a flight home that day and even went as far as using the computer in the lobby to check for cancellations, but I knew it was doubtful that I would get a seat and I was right. Nothing was available and I checked into the hotel room, showered and changed and ordered some lunch from the room service menu. I had no choice but to stay in Boston until the next day as planned.

I called Leah to let her know everything had gone well and then spent the afternoon in my room watching television. I was bored, but I didn't particularly want to wander around Boston alone and so I stayed in the room and tried not to think about Andrew Leonard's new assistant manager. I could picture him almost as if he were standing in front of me; a small smirk on his face, muscles bulging. I imagined him pulling his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing his abs and letting me get a good look. His sweat pants rested low on his hips, showing me the 'V' of his obliques and as I watched, they slid an inch or two lower, revealing a curl of pubic hair which his happy trail led to.

"Fuck! Stop it!" I growled aloud, rolling over on the bed and pressing my face into the pillow. The image wouldn't leave my head and my cock was hardening rapidly. It had been much too long; two years, almost, since...Emmett. He had been the last one. Garrett, Carlisle, Sam, Emmett. He had been huge, bigger even than Paul and I'd felt worse about him than any of the others because I'd liked him - really liked him, and been incredibly tempted to go back for more. I hadn't, I'd managed to talk myself out of it, but I'd thought about him several times afterwards when I jerked off.

I'd known I was bisexual from a pretty young age, but had never had anyone to confide in. My experimentation had been restricted to stolen magazines which Dad had eventually found hidden under my bed not too long after we lost Mom. His words had made me feel disgusting and unnatural and it had only been worse when he had told me Mom must be turning in her grave, ashamed of my behaviour. I'd been fifteen then and I'd struggled with it for the next eighteen months until the Cameron family moved into the neighbourhood and I met Jared, who was a year older than me. He was gay and made no attempt to hide it. Dad told me I wasn't to form a friendship with him and shunned the family, but somehow I did get to know Jared a little bit and the tentative friendship had become my first experience with a guy. Afterwards I'd remembered Dad's words, wondered if Mom was looking down on me, shocked and disappointed, and I didn't see him again. A few months later I was with Leah and the other guys had been brief interludes when I found myself unable to suppress my longings any more.

I gyrated my hips slightly, rubbing myself against the bed and making my zipper press painfully into my erection. Maybe if I just got myself off I'd forget about it; at least I would only be thinking about it rather than actually doing it. I flipped over again and unfastened my jeans, stroking my hand over myself lightly for a moment before I shoved both jeans and underwear down quickly and took my cock in my hand. My heart was racing and my thighs quivered as I began to pump my shaft slowly, reaching down with the other hand to cup my balls, tugging and squeezing gently.

Did he even like guys, I wondered? Had he realised I was checking him out? I was pretty clueless about that type of thing. If he'd liked the look of me, I would never have known unless he actually said so. I called him to mind again, dark eyes looking into mine as he kneeled in front of me on the bed, his hand reaching for me, pushing my own away and closing his fist around my cock. I bucked my hips, thrusting myself firmly into my hand, closing my eyes to keep the illusion of Paul there, his hand leaving my balls and reaching under me, pushing a finger in.

"Oh, God," I moaned. I needed to come badly. I'd made love with Leah after the anniversary dinner and as always it had been sweet and passionate and I'd felt sated afterwards, but what I really wanted, right now, was a man's strong hands, hard kiss, muscular body, cock rubbing against mine...

I spread my legs apart and moved my hand faster, frantically chasing my orgasm, letting myself picture Paul kneeling between my thighs, his thick, dark cock jutting upwards, the tip glistening as his hand flew over my erection and his fingers thrust deeper into me. I came hard, spurting onto my belly and the clean t-shirt I'd put on, gasping for breath. Slowly I withdrew my finger, released my softening cock and returned to the bathroom to clean up, my knees trembling from the force of my orgasm and my stomach turning over with anxiety. The few moments of pleasure hadn't done anything to lessen my desire and somehow I had to get through the night and go home the next day without making things any worse than they already were.

Evening approached and I went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner, lingering over the steak meal and a glass of beer. I would have liked to go out somewhere, maybe have a few more drinks and pass the time and I had seen a bar just two blocks away from the hotel. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if I went there for an hour or so. It was going to be a tedious evening in my room otherwise.

I finished the meal and headed outside, making my way along the street to the bar. It was almost nine o'clock - pretty early really - but the place was already jumping, even on a Monday night. Music and voices drifted out onto the street and I went in, made my way to the bar and waited for one of the girls to be free to serve me. I ordered a beer and went to stand by the window, leaning against the wall in the absence of a free seat and watching the goings on in the street outside. My attention was quickly drawn to the club across the street, a rainbow neon sign above the door announcing it as Quentin's. I could see two guys standing just inside the door kissing and my pulse quickened. I turned my back to the window and gulped some of my beer, ignoring the flutter of excitement I felt. I wasn't going over there; I was going to finish my beer and head back to the hotel. Leaving it in the first place had been a mistake.

I made the beer last twenty minutes more and then walked out into the street, shoved my hands into my pockets and turned left, but in another minute I found myself crossing towards Quentin's instead. I couldn't seem to help myself; it was as if my feet were taking me towards the door on their own and I was powerless to stop them. I paused outside and hovered, then walked past instead and looked in the window although it was difficult to see much in the dimly lit interior. I turned again and shuffled towards the door, my heart pounding. Damnit, I wouldn't go in there.

"First time, is it?" A doorman grinned at me and chuckled and rather than come to my senses and walk away, I ducked inside quickly and made my way to the bar, knowing I was going to regret it. The few times I'd been into these types of places, something had always happened because I'd gone in there with the intention of exactly that. I went to the bar to get another beer, angry with myself for being so weak and ignoring what my head repeatedly told me.

A muscular, tattooed barman with a shaved head served me and I found myself staring at his chest and comparing it to Paul's as I waited for my change and wondering what the hell I would do if the object of my thoughts were to show up at that moment. I wouldn't stand a chance. I stayed where I was, sipping my beer and ignoring everything around me for a few minutes, but then suddenly someone spoke to me.

"Jacob Black!"

Oh, fuck. He was here, standing right next to me at the bar. What were the odds? I licked my lips and tried to think of something to say.

"Wife know about this?" he asked with a smirk.

"How do you know I'm married?" I blurted.

"You just told me." His smirk broadened into a grin and his eyes twinkled.

"Well, I...I'm just...I came in for a drink, that's all," I stammered.

"There's a regular bar right across the street if all you want is a beer."

"Well, I'm not planning on staying long."

"You might as well stay for a dance now you're here. The place is just warming up," Paul said.

"I don't...dance," I said nervously.

"No? What do you do?"

"Like I said, I just came in for a..."

"You're lying," he murmured, leaning closer so that I could still hear above the loud music. "You were checking me out earlier; when I was rowing."

Fuck, he noticed.

"Well, I don't do this...often." I could feel myself sweating, my pulse racing and I couldn't help thinking about the fantasy I'd had about him in the hotel room. Immediately I glanced down, taking in the black tank-top and skin-tight jeans he wore, neither of which left a great deal to the imagination. I could just about see the shape of his cock where it lay to one side of his zipper and guessed he wasn't wearing underwear.

His soft laugh drew my eyes back up to his face and then he stepped away and finished the drink he was holding. "Sure you don't want to dance?"

I shook my head dumbly and he shrugged and turned away, making his way onto the partly filled dancefloor. The hard beat of the modern track pumping through the speakers made my chest vibrate and multi-coloured lights swung this way and that, casting muted shades over the dancers. I raised the beer to my lips and took another gulp, telling myself that I would finish it as quickly as I could and leave.

Paul halted in a vacant space and turned to face me, then began to dance smoothly, his body moving in perfect time to the music, the muscles in his chest and shoulders flexing. I glanced away briefly, telling myself to abandon my beer and get out of there while I still had the chance, but my eyes were drawn back to the man fifteen feet away, who as I watched suddenly snagged the hem of the tank-top and lifted it over his head, tucking the garment into the back of his jeans. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes slid from his large shoulders down over the bulging pecs and perfect abs, then darted back up again as the glint of something caught my attention. A gold ring hung from his left nipple and I unconsciously licked my lips.

Paul grinned and ran his tongue along his lower lip, raising his arms along with the others on the dancefloor as the track changed to something faster. I watched, fascinated, as his skin began to glisten with sweat from the sticky heat and the rapid movement, a droplet rolling slowly down the centre of his chest and following his happy trail south.

"Fuck." I raised the bottle to my lips again, my throat impossibly dry, my eyes still fixed on Paul even as I tilted my head back. My pants suddenly felt way too tight and my heart was banging in time to the music. I looked away and wiped one sweaty palm on my jean-clad thigh, then swapped hands with the bottle. I looked back at him and gulped as I noticed the button at the top of his jeans was undone.

"Fuck," I muttered again.

"Come here," Paul mouthed silently.

I hesitated, uncertain. There was only one way this would end, but did I really want to go through this again? The pain and the guilt afterwards; my self-hatred; my efforts to hide it when I returned home. It was only made worse by the fact that he was connected to my work. I put the empty bottle down on the bar and glanced towards the exit.

'Go,' I told myself, ignoring my aching erection. 'Do the right thing.'

My feet began to move, slowly, one step at a time, onto the dancefloor.