A/N: yeah, I'm a bad person. I promise my readers that I WILL get back to writing Dancing Shoes eventually. However, my muse was chased away after the news of Cory's death. Anyway, 'nough about my Glee story...
.. I've officially fallen back into the Twilight fanfiction. (still no longer a fan of twilight itself, but the fanfiction? hell to the yeah (: ) anyway, this is Contrast (:
disclaimer: I do not own twilight, blah blah blah. P.S. graphic first chapter. (cough sexy times)
"Jesus fuck. Of all the places the damn picklwa could be it has to be way the fuck up there?" Paul Lahote stopped short on his hurried quest to buy himself some eggs. Standing about a quarter of the way down the veggie isle was the palest girl he had ever seen—dressed in black shorts and an oversized plaid shirt—the small, pale girl was glaring at the offending isle in a way that really, honestly should have pissed Paul right the fuck off. But on this girl, it was sort of endearing.
"Here." He commented, reaching up and grabbing the offending jar. The girl's small body swiveled in his direction, a small smile gracing her features.
"Thanks." She said, grabbing the jar from him. When their hands touched, Paul swore he felt an electric shock shoot through his body.
"Uh, yeah, no problem." He muttered. The girl glanced at him, then back at the jar of pickles. She had a cart with her, but it was empty.
"Do you have a lot of sex?" She blurted. Her empty hand flew up to her mouth and her blue eyes widened. "Ohmygod."
"Umm.. what?" Pau stuttered. Sure, he liked sex, and yeah, he'd had a lot of it before he turned wolf, but no woman had ever asked him if he had a lot of sex.
"Shit, that came out wrong. Well.. not really, but no—wrong." The girl stammered. Her eyes slid closed and she took a deep breath. "You look like a guy that has lots of sex."
Paul nodded slowly, still unsure of where this was going.
"Good. I need your help." The girl set the jar of pickles on a lower shelf and slapped her hand back to her mouth. "Mother fucking shit, Makenzi—you don't just say things like that."
"No—you know what, you're sexy. Screw it. What do you need help with?" Paul told her. Screw the eggs, he thought. He was going to get laid.
"Okay, well, I can't say it here.." The girl—Makenzi?—said, pulling a pen from behind her ear and grabbing Paul's arm. He watched as she delicately scribbled an address on his forearm. "Be there in two hours… for a good time."
With that, she grabbed her pickles and floated away. Paul stood there for a good five minutes, staring at his arm. What the hell did he even agree to?
Two hours later, a skeptical Paul arrived at the address the girl had written on his arm. She had directed him to a small yellow house on the forks edge of La Push, nestled in the trees. The location of the house unsettled Paul. She was a small girl living alone near a forest filled with vampires and werewolves.
Shaking his head, Paul walked to the front door and knocked. The door flew open to reveal the small redheaded girl, grinning at him.
"I now realize I should probably know your name before I invite you into my home." She stated, crossing her pale arms over her chest.
"Paul. Paul Lahote." He replied, leaning against the door frame. Paul heard her heart rate pick up slightly at the low timbre in his voice.
"Makenzi Mattaline." She replied, letting him into her house. Makenzi led Paul into her living room where she gestured for him to sit.
"So…" Paul said, running his palms over his thighs. "Why am I here exactly?" Makenzi got up from her perch on the sofa and sat on the arm of his chair, bringing her lips right up to his ear.
"Because, Paul Lahote," She breathed in his ear, her fingers scraping against the back of his neck. "I want you to fuck me." Paul actually had to close his eyes. Had it really been that long since he'd had sex that just having this tiny woman whisper something dirty in his ear had him achingly hard.
He smirked and turned his head so his lips were just out of her reach. "Well then hold on tight, Makenzi Mattaline." His lips connected with hers, hot, heavy, and unyielding. Her hands flew up to his hair and tangled themselves within the surprisingly soft locks. His hands, slid slowly up under her tank top, thumbs tracing circles against her skin in time with their tongues.
Paul stood up quickly, pulling Makenzi with him, her legs automatically wrapping themselves tightly around his waist—her womanhood dangerously close to his throbbing erection.
"Down the hall, first door." Makenzi breathed as Paul's lips slid slowly down her neck. He moved with practiced swiftness, opening the door and making quick work of the space between the door and Makenzi's bed.
Paul's shirt was long gone—somewhere between the sofa and the bedroom he assumed, and Makenzi's tank top seemed to be following closely. He bit back a moan when her top was finally removed, revealing her braless chest. With a gentle toss, Makenzi was deposited on the bed, Paul's face and perfect lips millimeters from her aching nipples.
"Paul." She breathed, arching her back. He chuckled and kissed her.
"How bad do you want it baby?" He whispered in her ear, licking the shell teasingly. Her hands flew up to his head and her back arched violently.
"Please." She moaned. All Makenzi wanted was to feel his hot lips against her breasts.
"Well, since you asked nicely." Paul rumbled, his lips claiming one of her aching peaks. The squeak that slipped out of Makenzi's throat almost did it for Paul—he'd accidently let his teeth clamp down against the hard nipple. Her heart sped up even more, Paul thought for sure she was going to go into cardiac arrest.
Makenzi breathed out a moan and rotated her hips, looking for any sort of friction for her aching center. She could feel the man above her smirk against her breasts and his teeth nipped playfully against the edge of her flesh.
"Mmm, Paul… I need you." Makenzi moaned into his ear, dragging her nails down his back. Her fingers trailed the waistband of his shorts, slipping into the front teasingly.
Paul wasted no time in ridding himself of the constricting material resting on his hips, grinding his length against Makenzi's hot, wet center before sinking in slowly. He was about to stop to let her adjust to his size—because let's face it, Paul knew he was hung—when her nails dug into his back and her mouth was back against his ear whispering harshly.
"Don't you dare go slow." She practically growled. Not a man of disappointment, Paul did as he was told, truly fucking her like she'd asked.
It didn't happen the first three times they'd fucked that night, or the two the following morning—no, it happened in the shower. Hell, nothing sexual had even been going on that he'd known of—but damn, could that woman handle a wolf's stamina. All Paul had done pin her against the cold stone wall, nip her bottom lip roughly, and look into her sparkling blue eyes. He'd come undone.
His whole world shifted in the span of four seconds. It felt like something was finally right in his body—something he hadn't known was wrong before. There was no denying it—Paul Lahote imprinted on Makenzi Mattaline.
They'd fooled around in the shower some more after the incident, but Paul could just tell Makenzi was too tired for another exhausting round of sex. She'd offered to make him breakfast, and he agreed to stay.
Hours, breakfast, and a few stolen kisses later, Makenzi was showing Paul out. Before he left, he spun around.
"Can I see you again?" He asked. Makenzi nodded and yawned.
"Yeah, come around whenever—I'll be here." Paul grinned and stole a final kiss.
"Okay, I have to go to work now. See you soon." She nodded and he walked off.
Makenzi closed the door and let out a sigh. She'd done it. She'd had sex with a random man and enjoyed it quite a lot. She stretched and walked down the hall to her office, where she plopped down on a chair and started to read the Quileute legends.
Makenzi Louise Mattaline had a feeling that Paul Lahote was going to be around for a while.
A/N: so... yeah? review please?