A/N: Hello, my friends! This was probably the hardest chapter I've written so far, and not because of the lemon. Idk how SM could write Bella to be so cruel to the nicest person in any of her books - nicest besides maybe Charlie, that is. Seriously, show me a place in any part of the Twilight Saga where Jake is actually mean or nasty - it's not there! Doesn't happen - so why is she such a bitch to him? It's so hard to keep her in character - I just want to make her into a nice person. Bella needs redemption, dammit!

Anyway, anything you recognize is SM's. Not that I envy her. Well, I do. I just don't wanna admit it.

Chapter 9

I leave Seth's an hour or so later, winding my way home on my cycle through the gathering darkness. I wonder for the thousandth time today what the hell is going on over at the crypt. She's trying to convince him; of that I'm sure – but what else? I hope with every fiber of my being, wolf and man, that he's not yelling at her, upsetting her, hurting her more than he already has.

I'm still not hungry when I get home, but I make myself eat something – I don't even know what it is. My mind is completely preoccupied with her. I want her to call. I don't want her to call. I don't know what I want.

Finally, finally, my phone buzzes, and it's her. I press the TALK button and say nothing.

"Jake? Can you come get me?" she asks forlornly, her voice thick with crying.

"I'm on my way," I answer, my heart pounding. I go out to the bike I've left there, standing in what is now a steady drizzle, and take off like a bat out of hell.

In record time, I pull up to the Cullen crypt, spraying gravel as I brake to a stop. She's on the porch, no vamps in sight. I can't smell anything either – just her fresh, soft, luscious scent. As soon as she sees me she sprints across the driveway and flings herself into my arms. I don't even have time to get off my bike.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"Get on," I reply.

She situates herself on the saddle and scrunches into me, but I move away and take off my jacket, handing it to her. She wraps it around herself gratefully and puts her leather-clad arms around my waist. But I'm not all altruistic. I give her the jacket to keep her warm, but I have an ulterior motive too. I want to feel her against my t-shirted back, not through my leather jacket. Sure, the jacket will keep her warm, but it's her warmth I want to feel. I'm gonna be selfish here – because I'm pretty sure I know what's coming.

She can't really talk to me on the ride back to my place because of the noise, and even when we pull up to Billy's and she's off the bike, she doesn't say much. She holds one hand out to me and I take it, then we walk hand-in-hand into the kitchen and sit down at the table. She looks tiny sitting there in my coat. It completely engulfs her, and she looks like a scared little girl. I reach over and take both her hands in mine. They're like ice.

Her face is puffy with crying, and I figure she's had a long afternoon. "You hungry?" I ask softly. She shakes her head, but I get up and pour her a bowl of corn flakes, douse it in milk, and set it in front of her. She eats quickly, then hands the bowl to me. I put it in the sink. "Better?" I ask.

She nods, then looks up at me and shrugs. I can feel my face grimace into a wry smile. "That bad, huh?" I ask.

"Well, it took a little while, but I convinced him," she says finally, not meeting my eyes.

"Convinced him?" I ask, my heart soaring and dropping at once.

"To let you help me," she says simply.

Yeah. That's what I thought.

"Okay," I say. "So what do we do now?"

"I thought you'd have some idea," she says, looking at me hopelessly.

"Yeah, I have an idea," I say authoritatively. I walk over to where she's seated and sit in the chair next to her, gathering her up in my arms. She's tense, expecting something – a move, an advance of some sort. But that's not what I have in mind at all, and I feel so bad that she's this edgy about the whole thing. Stupid fuckin vamp. "It's okay, baby," I whisper into her hair. "We're just gonna go to bed and get some sleep, okay? We'll give this thing some thought tomorrow."

"We should talk about it now, though," she says. "I don't think I can sleep until we do."

"Okay," I say agreeably. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Well," she says, "Edward wants me to try to get…acclimated…within a couple of weeks, if that's possible. And he'd like us to try to get there without…doing it."

"Hm." I say. "Well, that sounds near impossible. How the hell is that supposed to work?" I'm really being sarcastic, but I can't help it. Where the hell does he get off? Either he wants me to help or he doesn't. He can't go around telling me how to help. Obviously if he knew how to help, he wouldn't need me. So he wants me to get this done in two weeks when he hasn't been able to do it in two months? And he's gonna set limits on how I do it? Well, fuck him. I'll get it done when I get damn good and ready.

"Well, that's what he said. And I told him I'd relay the message, so consider it relayed." She looks up at me, a challenge in her eyes. And I see that she's only telling me this because he said she should. Not necessarily because she agrees with him.

I smile at her. "Gotcha," I say. "Now that you relayed the message, wanna go to bed?"

She looks up at me gratefully. "Yes," she sighs.

So we go to bed.

She cuddles in happily, though she still won't let me turn off the light. I spoon up against her, wrapping her in my arms. "So…" I say. "Are you going to stay here with me for the duration?"

"I think I probably will, but I'll decide for sure soon," she says quietly.

"I'm s'posta work tomorrow," I tell her.

"I know," she says.

"But I have been there over a year, and I haven't taken any time off. Maybe Sam will let me have a few days of vacation."

"Just until I feel comfortable being here alone," she's quick to say.

"Look, honey, don't worry about it. I don't have to go in tomorrow. Or you can come in with me. You can sit in the office and go online or read. I do have a kind of cool project I'm working on. You might like it." I'm thinking about that T-bird and how much I want to get that thing running. And I remember when the leech left that time, how Bells and I spent a lot of time in my garage, her watching me work on our bikes. It worked that time to bring us closer, maybe it would work this time too.

"Okay," she sighs, and the next thing I know her breaths are deep and easy, and I know she's asleep.

We sleep like that all night, with her snuggled into my arms, and it feels like heaven to me. When my alarm goes off, I want to stay in bed, and that hasn't happened in almost a year. I've been driven like a madman ever since she's been out of my life, going from place to place looking for peace. I'd get out of bed and rush to work like I'd find comfort there, then rush through my work and back home to see if there was any relief there. It was like I was being chased by something I couldn't see. And today that feeling is gone.

She, on the other hand, gets right up and starts breakfast while I jump in the shower. I'm done in mere minutes, and I realize that I'm rushing to get back to her. I really don't want to leave her today. I decide to text Sam and see if it's okay that I take today off.

He answers me with a terse, 'Ok, but that t bird ain't gonna fix herself.' Okay, so he'd rather I came in. I can do that. I tell him I'll be there and get dressed then follow the aroma of breakfast coming from the kitchen.

She's got my robe slouched over her shoulders, and while Shea filled it out much better than my girl ever could, she looks so cute and irresistible in it that I hug her from behind as she stands at the stove making chocolate chip pancakes. "Hey," she protests jokingly. "No PDA in the kitchen!"

"Is that some kind of rule?" I ask, releasing her. "It's not a public display of affection if we're not in public, Bells."

She laughs happily, turning to hug me, and I catch a glimpse of her face. She's got a little color in her cheeks and actually looks rested. It makes my heart soar. I can't believe how happy it makes me that she's here, with me – even if it is just for now.

"Can I take the Rabbit today?" she asks, referring to my little red car that I used to drive before I got the truck. "Charlie's on the evening shift tonight so he doesn't have to be at the station until 3. I thought I'd go see him while you're at work."

"Sure, honey, anything you want. You know you don't even have to ask," I say. "But I got rid of the Rabbit. You can use my truck."

She turns and looks at me, her mouth open and her eyes wide. "You got rid of it?" she asks. "Why?"

I shrug self-consciously. "I dunno, I needed more space for tools, I guess." I can't tell her the real reason – that it reminded me too much of her. "But the truck's easy to drive; you'll like it."

"Okay," she says and I detect a little sadness in her voice. It was hard to get rid of that Rabbit, but I couldn't take the constant reminder of my time with her in the garage while I rebuilt it. I can tell she remembers that time fondly too.

But it's all good. She'll be with Charlie today, so that means she'll be safe. "You call me when you get there, okay?" I'll have Quil and Leah follow her to Charlie's so the bloodsucker doesn't ambush her as soon as she leaves the rez – but I'm not telling her that. I want her to feel like she's free to do what she wants with me, after two solid months of being under the constant surveillance of the Cullen coven, and several months before that of sporadic supervision while she dated the leech.

"And when I leave to come back," she sighs, rolling her eyes. "Believe me, I'm used to constantly reporting in."

"No, you don't have to call when you leave," I tell her. She doesn't need to know that I'll be checking up on her. "And you don't have to call when get there, either – if you don't want to."

"Really?" she asks, mildly surprised. "Edward would be watching my every move."

"I'm not Edward," I answer, spitting his name out like it tastes bad. I take the dishes out of the cabinet for breakfast.

"Awesome," she remarks, and I hide a smile.

We eat the pancakes and sausage she's cooked up, and she makes me a to-go cup of coffee as I finish brushing my teeth. I give her the keys to the truck and a chaste peck on the cheek before I leave, and then I'm out the door and racing toward work on my bike.

When I get to work, I quickly call Charlie and tell him to let me know when Bella leaves his place. He readily agrees and I discover that he's just as fed up with Cullen and his antics as I am. If only he knew the whole story – he'd take her away so fast she wouldn't know what hit her. But it has to be her decision – and I'm really hoping I can convince her.

"I'll keep an eye out for her, Jake," he tells me, and we hang up, both of us feeling better about the situation.

As soon as Quil appears at work, I tell him my plan to have him follow Bells to Charlie's house.

"You're crazy, you know that, right?" he says to me. "Sam isn't gonna like this." Everyone knows how Sam feels about Bella.

"I'll take care of Sam," I say to Quil. "You get Leah and follow Bella. Let me know if anything happens."

"Okay," he says doubtfully, leaving the way he came in. I watch him lope into the forest and I turn just as Sam comes up behind me.

"What the hell is going on, Black?" he demands.

"Quil'll be back in forty-five minutes or so," I answer, heading out toward the T-bird. "You need me, I'll be working on that Ford."

He follows me. Shit. "That doesn't answer my question, Jacob. What did you send him to do?" I turn back to face him and sigh.

"Look, Sam, this is my fight, okay? Quil is in my pack, he answers to me. I understand your attitude, and I get it. But this is something I have to do. You understand?"

Sam knows he can't really say anything to me. He's an Alpha too, but I'm an Alpha by birth, and he can't trump that. He's pissed, I can tell, but he turns away with a grunt and says nothing more.

I busy myself with the next steps in rebuilding the T-bird. Quil returns less than an hour later and reports that Bella got to Charlie's safe and sound, with no sign of vamps around the place. I'm positive that Cullen has his soothsaying sister watching Bella and he's attuned to her every move. What Cullen doesn't know is that I am aware of a glitch in the system, as it were. Bella let it slip a while ago that the seer can't see everything. She can't see me or my pack mates, and she can't see Bella when she's with us. That's a bonus for us, but it doesn't protect Bella when she isn't with me. I can only hope that he's careless enough to think she'll stay on the rez and not have the little female look for her. I'm sure that's an empty hope though. Cullen is never careless when it comes to Bella.

The day goes by fast despite the fact that I'm worried at the back of my mind about her. At around 2:30, Charlie texts me that Bella will be leaving shortly. I dispatch Quil again, without Leah this time since she's in class right now, and he's back again within a little more than an hour. He reports that it smelled like Bella cooked for Charlie and that she stopped on the way home to pick up groceries for my place. She's there now, and Quil says he thinks she'll stay put until I get home.

I want to leave, but I think it would look suspicious if I come swooping in as soon as she gets back. Besides, Sam would have a word or two to say about that. I have to put in a certain amount of time if I want my paychecks to cover my bills. Not that I have any extravagant bills, but it's hard to pay utilities on my salary and without Billy's disability check. I continue to work on the Ford until 4:30 rolls around and then I'm out the door.

As I round the final bend before I get home, my heart sinks. Next to my truck sits a little red Miata, and I suddenly remember with a flash that Shea was supposed to come by and pick her stuff up today. Fuck, I can't believe I forgot!

I slow the bike and ride her in quietly, letting her idle so the girls won't know I'm home. I hope Shea's ready to leave because, coward that I am, I don't want this confrontation. As I walk the bike into the shed, I pick up a snippet of conversation, and after that I'm frozen where I stand, listening.

Shea's voice floats out to me first. "Of course I love him! Who wouldn't? He's the sexiest piece of man meat I've ever laid eyes on. You have no idea how lucky you are that he feels the way he does about you. God, he's so…beautiful."

Bella answers her. "What do you mean, how he feels about me? What do you know about it?"

"He still loves you, y'know. This is killing him. If you care about him at all, you'll leave and get professional help. He's only nineteen years old, Bella, he doesn't have the maturity to help you with this." Shea's words are snippy, and they piss me off so much that I almost go inside, but the next thing I hear rivets me to the site.

"Look, I know he still loves me. I love him too. More than you could ever know. I know the real Jake, not this despondent mope that's prowling around here now. Every day I have to live with the knowledge that I did that to him. Ruined him, basically. I made mistakes, okay? I'm human." She hesitates and her voice takes on a dreamy quality. "God, if you knew the before Jake, the Jake I know. You wouldn't be in love with him for his beauty. You'd be in love with him for him. His amazing ability to bring sunshine to the darkest days. You wouldn't care what he looked like if you knew the Jake I know."

"Oh, come on. You're telling me you don't even see he's the hottest thing around? Please. You'd have to be blind not to notice. And if you feel that way about him, then why would you marry someone else? I'd like to see this guy who replaced Jacob Black. He must be something else!" Shea's tone is sarcastic, and I start to realize that all she ever saw in me were my looks. Not a word is said about my personality, the essence of me. but then, I've hidden that from her this whole time.

Bella responds with venom in her voice. "I knew Jake as a kid, long before his looks came into play. Yes, he's gorgeous. But that's not what attracted me to him. I'm not that shallow. And yes, I should have waited on the whole marriage thing. I realize that now. What, you never made a mistake in your life?"

"I'd never make the mistake of leaving Jacob Black for anyone," Shea says. "And I'm not leaving him for you, either. I'll be here waiting to pick up the pieces when you go back to your husband. I'm gonna marry Jacob Black, Bella. You mark my words, savage Native American or not, he'll be mine. And I'll have his little half-breed babies, too."

Bella is silent, and I almost go inside to put a stop to this. I'm fuckin fuming - if there's any way to piss me off quick, it's to dis my people. But then I hear Bella say coldly, "Do you have all your stuff? Because I need those drawers you emptied. I have some things to put away." She says this pointedly, and I grin in spite of myself. Bella's brought stuff from home. She's gonna stay.

"Don't get too comfortable," Shea says, and the door swings open. Shea struggles out under a clear plastic bin full of what I assume are her clothes and whatever else she had here. She almost runs into me as she hurries to her car, and I meet her head on and take the bin from her.

"Jake!" she says, surprised and embarrassed. Her eyes are huge as she looks up at me, and I'm staring at her with the dirtiest look I can muster. "Did you just get here?"

"I've been here long enough," I tell her shortly, carrying the bin to her car. When we're out of earshot of the kitchen I turn to her. "So…I'm a savage, huh? And that's what you like? You're gonna slum it with me and have my half-breed babies?" I ask disparagingly.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," she protests.

I force a chuckle. "I heard you," I say. "I know what you meant. I guess I'm flattered that you think I'm beautiful. You're a beautiful woman, too - and to be honest, that's really all I saw in you, hon. And I'm glad I had the opportunity to see the real you, even if you haven't seen the real me. Thanks for the laughs, Shea. See ya around." I dump the bin in her trunk and turn away, not looking back. Yeah, I know that was mean. But I can't believe I thought she was so nice. She sure fooled me. Two-faced little bitch.

My boots crunch across the gravel as I stalk into the house, and I hear the Miata fire up. She takes off fast, a puff of exhaust in her wake. I shake my head without a backwards glance.

I can smell some tomato-and-cheese concoction as I enter the kitchen, and I see Bella leaning against the counter, her face sad and upset. She's not crying, but I can tell she's on the verge.

"C'mere," I say, gathering her up in a huge hug. She rests her head on my shoulder and sighs.

"Did you hear?" she asks despondently.

"I heard," I confirm.

"All of it?"

"Enough."

"Did you talk to her?"

I pull away and look into her face. "I did," I tell her. "I told her to hit the road. I'm completely over her."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," she says, looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes.

"Are you kidding?" I grin. "I'm on cloud nine."

"What?" She's confused.

"You told her you love me," I say. I can't hide my million-watt smile.

One side of her mouth lifts in a little lopsided grin. "You knew that already," she says.

"Now how would I know that?" I ask. "You're married to someone else."

"I never stopped loving you, Jake." The words, spoken so softly, are absolute music to my ears.

"Damn, girl," I say, the smile on my face ready to split it in half. For some reason, the look she's giving me makes me self conscious, and I pull away and make a big show of sniffing the air. "What did you make? It smells amazing."

"Lasagna," she answers, a blush coloring her cheeks as she turns away. "I know you love my lasagna."

"Is it ready? I'm starving."

"Go take a shower, grease monkey. I need a couple more minutes." She whaps my ass as I walk away, and it's all I can do not to turn back and devour her with a kiss that would curl her toes. But there's time for that later.

I take my time in the shower - not like this morning. It feels great for one thing, but I also have a little voice in the back of my head that's saying, 'Slow down, Jake - she's still married, and you're doing all this for Cullen.' I hate the stupid voice, but I have to admit - it's right.

I make up my mind that I'll just enjoy the time I have with her, whatever it may be. I can feel my old self trying to make an appearance - I just can't help but feel elated by her declaration that she still loves me. It's what I've been waiting to hear for months.

I finish my shower and dress in a pair of clean jeans and a nondescript t-shirt. When I walk into the kitchen she's got dinner on the table, the steaming lasagna, a loaf of garlic bread, and a green salad. She dishes up two plates and we eat in a silence that's not exactly uncomfortable, but it's not really cozy either. We're both feeling a little self conscious after the big declaration, and I think I know why.

"Bells, you okay?" I ask when I've downed three slabs of lasagna.

"Are you?" she asks with a shy smile. "You must be about ready to explode after eating all that."

I lean back and rub my stomach. "Still room for dessert," I say with a smile. "But seriously, you seem kind of...quiet."

"Just thinking, I guess."

"Thinking about what?" I ask.

"If this is gonna work. How this is gonna work," she says.

"We'll take it slow," I assure her. "It'll be fine."

"It's not like we have a lot of time, Jake," she protests.

I reach across the table and put my hand over hers. "We have as much time as we need, honey. I'm not in any hurry."

"Edward is," she reminds me.

I'm surprised by the fact that his name doesn't light that fire in me tonight. Calmly, I say, "I don't answer to Edward, and you don't have to when you're with me, okay? Let's get that straight now."

She still looks glum. She stands and begins to clean up dinner, and I jump up to help. "You cooked, honey, you don't have to clean up."

"I want to," she says unconvincingly.

"We'll do it together," I say, gently taking the plates out of her hands. We move around the kitchen, wiping surfaces and running soapy water. When we're standing at the sink and I'm washing while she dries, she looks up at me.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

It's easy to talk when we're not face to face and I unthinkingly blurt, "Babe, I'm way more than okay."

She chuckles a little, then says, "You know this isn't necessarily going to change anything, right? I mean, as of right now, I'm probably going back to him."

I rinse the suds out of the sink and look at her, cocky as all hell. "Yeah, that's a chance I'll take," I say. "I'm thinking I'll come out on top."

She laughs then, a full out belly laugh, like she thinks I'm the funniest thing she's ever seen. I watch her, grinning, and wonder if the bloodsucker is able to bring this side of her out. Somehow, I don't think so.

She slides the final plate into the stack in the cabinet, and while she's reaching up, I grab her from behind. There's not an ounce of stiffness in her as I wind my arms around her waist and bend to plant a slow kiss on her neck. She doesn't tense up like I expect her to; no - she literally melts into me. "Jake," she breathes in a soft, warning tone. But I ignore it.

"Come on, Bells. Just for tonight," I whisper into her hair. "You remember how good this was." She struggles for a second and I instantly let go, not wanting to force her hand in any way. I'm disappointed to say the least - but she turns herself around so she's facing me and her arms twine around my neck and she pulls me in like I'm a life preserver and she's drowning. Her pink lips whisper my name as she covers my mouth with hers and presses closer, kissing me for all she's worth.

Involuntarily, my knees dip and my hips thrust into her - I'm already hard as a rock and all it took was one kiss. She licks across my bottom lip, giving absolutely no sign of stopping. And then her tongue ventures into my mouth, taking me - me! - by surprise. Holy fuck - my breath quickens and my arms pull her closer and the wolf in me growls his pleasure.

Like the horny teenagers we are, we stand there making out, kissing each other urgently - and it feels like paradise. I don't know how long it lasts and I don't care. It could be thirty seconds or fifteen minutes - all I know is that she smells amazing and tastes even better, and she's in my arms, right where she belongs.

All of a sudden, she pulls away and covers her face. "Shit!" she says. "Jake, wait! We can't do this! I'm married!"

"Okay, okay," I say soothingly. "That's fine, honey, we don't have to do anything."

She looks up at me, trusting, and says, "But I...I want to." She makes a face and shakes her head. "God, what's wrong with me? I'm the one who started that!" She flips her hand as if gesturing to our makeout session. "Why? Seriously, Jake, what's my problem?"

She looks as if she really wants to know, so I shrug and say, "I dunno, Bells." I was gonna try to explain it but she cuts me off.

"I mean, I really wanted that! I wanted to kiss you. I still want it..." She glances at me for a second, then her eyes flick away as if she's embarrassed. "It used to be my favorite thing - kissing Edward. Now I'm...repulsed by him."

"What?" I ask quickly, confused and seriously surprised. I know how she feels - or at least how she felt - about the bloodsucker. This is definitely a new development. "You're repulsed by him?"

"Yeah," she says sadly. "You think it's because I'm still so mad at him? I mean, I wouldn't have married him, Jake, truly, if I'd have known how this would turn out - I wouldn't have done it."

I'm still floored by her saying she's repulsed by him. And it suddenly becomes clear - it's not that Bella is closed off from him because she doesn't trust him. It's because she's disgusted by him. I think of my own situation and how quickly my feelings changed toward Shea. If she showed up right now, as horny as I am for Bella, I'd be sickened by the prospect of sex with Shea. I'm pissed at her for betraying me for all those months, claiming she loved me when all she really wanted was to appear on my burly arm. Now I don't know if the douche husband had this all planned before the wedding or if he had every intention of trying to make love to her on the wedding night and chickened out at the last minute, but either way Bella feels betrayed. That's a big hurdle to get over, and I don't know that I'm equipped to help her do that. All this runs through my head in a split second, and I'm suddenly depressed. What we have planned here - this sexual surrogacy thing - it's not gonna work.

"Well...well, fuck, Bells," I say, completely at a loss. Then something else occurs to me. "But you're probably going back to him? That's what you said?"

She nods glumly. "After talking to him, I feel like I kind of owe it to him to keep trying. I mean he's trying. And he's trying so hard, Jake. It's almost painful to watch. He's...he's so...intense."

I shrug, not knowing what to say. Finally, I look at her and sigh. "Hon, this isn't gonna work – you and me. You know that, right?"

"Why not?" she demands, abruptly panicked.

Aw, Bells. I reach out and press my palm to her cheek, brushing back her hair. "Baby, it's just…" But I don't get the words out. She's on me again, only this time, she pulls me in and virtually devours me – her mouth is hungry and I feel the urgency, the absolute desperation in her kiss. I barely have time to catch a breath when she pulls away again, frustrated. She deliberately steps back and starts pacing the room.

"Okay, this is ridiculous," she mutters under her breath. "What the hell is wrong with me? I can't…I can't keep my hands off you. But I'm married! Shit!"

I almost laugh at her – it's truly comical how she's pacing the floor, wondering why she can't stop throwing herself at me. But that would be rude, so I choke it back and try to concentrate on helping her. I reach out as she passes me, but she shrugs away as I try to grab her. "Don't!" she says. "I don't trust myself!"

A chuckle escapes, I can't help it. The situation is so absurd. "Okay, Bells, I know I'm irresistible, but this is a little over the top, don't you think?" I joke.

She shakes her head with an inscrutable look. "I know, but I'm dead serious. I feel like all I want to do is jump your bones." She allows herself a little grin as she looks at me and shrugs one shoulder. "Maybe I just have to get it out of my system? One last little fling and I'll be fine?"

I smile big and toothy. "You know I'm game," I say with another laugh.

"God, don't say that! You're supposed to be the voice of reason! Shit, Jake."

I have to laugh again. She's killing me with the swears and the stupid topic of conversation. I know it's all hypothetical anyway - there's no way she's gonna let me make love to her tonight, and even if she did, I don't think it'll solve her problem.

But...but why? Why does she feel this way? Is it simply hormones, or is it something bigger? Of course, I want it to be something bigger, but I know it's a fairly empty hope. I mean, she's married. And even if she is unhappy, she did say she feels she owes it to him to keep trying.

As I stand there trying to figure it out, she attacks me again. She almost knocks me down this time. She jumps on me from the front, wrapping her legs around my waist, and this time I'm not going to stop her, and I'm not letting her stop either. I'm a man, after all. I can only take so much. I carry her back to my darkening room, dump her on the bed, strip off my shirt, and fall on top of her - to begin the therapy.

And she doesn't stop me either. I'm on the job in mere seconds, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. I know, I know. She's married, and what we're doing is so morally wrong it's almost cliché. But as she gasps my name and I press my mouth to her neck, I realize that I just don't care. I mean, technically, they haven't consummated the relationship, right? Doesn't that mean they aren't really married? I could be wrong about that, but with her in my arms and her lips on me, I gotta say, I just can't bring myself to give a shit.

Her hands fumble urgently at my waistband, pulling it open and yanking the zipper down like it's a ripcord and she's falling to her death. I want to stop her, I really do, because I'm afraid she'll regret it later...but somehow I just can't.

"Don't undress her, don't undress her," I try to tell myself, but it's no use. Like they've got a mind of their own, my fingers deftly unbutton her blouse and slide it open to reveal the hint of a pink, lacy bra. Just the sight of it makes me want to blow in my now open pants, but I hold off and instead watch my hand, still on a trajectory all its own, slip the strap off her right shoulder.

Right then, I tear my gaze away from her emerging breast and glance up at her face - and I see it. It's that same look, the look she gave me at the quarry that day almost a year ago, that look that just cries out love. It's so real it's like I can reach out and grab it in my hand, and for a second it takes my breath away. Just like that day, something passes between us, something like electricity, and I swallow loudly before covering her mouth with mine and plunging my tongue between her parted lips like I just can't get enough.

Her hands are busy too, and she grabs either side of my pants and starts working them down, first one side and then the other, alternating until she's got them banded around my thighs and I can't really move. I don't want to break the kiss, I don't want to stop or even hesitate in any way for fear she'll call this thing to an abrupt halt, but I have to do something with my jeans. Without taking my mouth off hers, I reach down and work them the rest of the way off so all I have on is a thin pair of boxers. The underwear does absolutely nothing to hide the raging boner inside. While I'm doing this, she doesn't stop anything. In fact, the urgency increases, almost as if the absence of my pants spurs her on.

"God, I've missed you," she whispers between kisses. She's never been this aggressive with me, she's never once taken the lead in the handful of times we've made love. I can't really get used to it, but luckily Shea was a pretty determined little spitfire in the bedroom, so I'm not completely unprepared. I moan as I kiss her deeper, my hand betraying me yet again as it goes for the button on her jeans. She makes no protest or move to stop me, so I get those damn things off, or at least down past her knees, so I have access to the part I want the most.

But wait. Isn't this where the douche parasite has been performing his little experiments? I can't do this to her, can't take advantage of my girl like this - I don't care how turned on I am. "Baby," I whisper. "Slow down. We can't do this."

"Yes we can," she says before I get the words out of my mouth.

"No, we can't," I say a little louder, a little more forcefully.

She pulls back for a second and looks into my eyes. "Don't say we have to stop, Jake. I can't stand any more rejection," she says with a sob in her voice. "Please."

Well, fuck. Now what do I do? Here I am, a nineteen year old, red blooded American man with a hot, half naked girl in my bed begging me to do her. I'm trying to do the right thing, but if I do the right thing, I'm hurting her more than she's already been hurt. The bloodsucker is right - Bella doesn't know what's good for her. But I don't know what's good for her either.

"Honey, I don't want to hurt you," I say.

"That's exactly what Edward would say," she whimpers.

Okay, well I guess I don't have to...y'know...enter her, or whatever. I could just work the external stuff, make her feel good - get her over that hump, so to speak. No pun intended. So I say softly, "Okay, baby," and I leave her panties on.

"Good," she sighs, and her hands clench into fists in my hair, causing my dick, if possible, to get even harder. Okay, so I can't hold back, and I slip my hand over the panties covering her sex, catching my breath in a gasp when I feel how wet the fabric between her legs is.

"Jesus, Bells, you're soaked," I breathe, pressing my lips to her temple "Sssooo hot, baby."

She pulls away abruptly, looking at my face with a surprised expression. "I am?" she asks. "You gotta be kidding." She reaches down and feels for herself - driving me wild, by the way; I mean, there's nothing sexier than that - and a slow smile spreads over her face. "I knew it," she says, almost to herself.

"Knew what?" I ask.

"Well..." she bites her lip in that adorable way she has and seems to be distracted momentarily. "I haven't been able to get...like, wet...since we were together. You and me."

What? I look at her like she's crazy. I can tell she's kind of embarrassed by the topic - though what she has to be embarrassed about after all we've been through, I don't know - but that whole thing doesn't seem right. Why can't she get aroused with her husband, for Chrissake?

"Wait a second," I say in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. "You're telling me that the vamp doesn't turn you on?"

She blinks up at me without an answer, then her face grimaces. "Sounds bad, huh?" she says.

"Yeah, it sounds bad," I say. "Bells, what's it gonna take?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, confused.

"I mean, what's it gonna take? Until you figure out that this guy is fucking poison to you?" I'm pissed, and I'm not trying to hide it. I mean, this is ridiculous. What does she need - a sign with ten foot letters? She can't make love to him. He's afraid he might kill her if he tries to make love to her. He's pushy and borderline abusive. She claims she's repulsed by him. And now she says he doesn't even turn her on? Just what the hell is holding her in this miserable relationship? And then something occurs to me.

"Hey. You said, 'I knew it.' What did you know? You didn't really tell me," I say. The grimace comes back to her face then, and this time I can tell it's from embarrassment. "Come on. Tell me," I urge.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine," she says suddenly. "I said I knew it because...because I knew I wasn't sexually frigid, like he says. I knew I could still get turned on, and I knew you'd be the one who could do it. Okay?"

Frigid? Where is he from, 1900? Oh, wait. Yeah, he is. "Baby, there's no such thing as sexually frigid. They disproved that shit in the 70s."

"Really? It's not, like – a thing?"

"Honey, I'm telling you, there's no such thing. That's something that was made up. He thinks that because he's from another century. And, Bells, let's face it. His body is cold. Frozen. No one wants a frozen lover. It's like having sex with a dead body. Humans want warmth. They gravitate to it. It's unnatural to crave something cold like that. Most normal people go toward warmth. And you're normal, as much as you don't like to think so. That's why I'm willing to bet," here I smile at her and raise my eyebrows, "that you're eventually gonna pick me. 'Cause I'm hot."

Her lips stretch up in a little grin, and I nuzzle into her neck playfully. "So you knew I could do it, huh? You knew I was the only one who could…" I lower my voice to a growl. "turn you on."

"You did it before," she says breathlessly. "All the time."

"All the time?" I repeat. "More like a few times." I know how many times we did it. I wouldn't call it 'all the time.'

"No, Jake," she insists. "It was all the time." She's looking away from me now, embarrassed again.

I make up my mind to tease it out of her. With a grin, I say, "You mean like when I was all studly, working on the bikes or the car?"

She blushes and doesn't look up. I take that as a yes, and I can't resist. "And at the bonfires? And when we'd hike?"

She still doesn't look up, but I see the side of her mouth lift. "Yes," she whispers. "All the time. The way you were with Billy. With your friends." And then finally she looks up at me from under her lashes. "At the quarry. On the cliffs. In your room. In my room. Everything you do is sexy, Jake. All. The. Time."

Well. That's it. I can't do this anymore. I can't hold back – I'm only human after all. I attack her lips with mine, thrusting my tongue into her eager, warm mouth and moaning my pleasure and frustration all at once. God, she's so sexy – so incredibly kissable, so fuckably hot. Again my hands have a mind of their own as they reach behind her and undo the wisp of a bra she has on. I slide the edges of her blouse apart and the bra slips off until I'm staring right at the soft, inviting swell of her breasts.

Just looking at them, I feel my mouth start to water – because they're begging to be licked, sucked, even bitten. I know how sensitive Bella's nipples are, and I dip down to flick my tongue over the tip of the closest one, causing her to hiss her breath in sharply between her teeth. "Omygod, Jake, please don't stop," she begs, her eyes squeezed shut.

Stopping is the last thing on my mind, and if she keeps begging me for things like that, then I don't know if I'll be able to hold off diving right into her, with no thought to anything else. I continue to use my mouth to turn her on, sucking her nipple over my tongue and giving it the little flicks that I know make her insane.

And of course it works. See, all last summer, before we actually did it, we had weeks – no, months – where all we did was everything else but. We held off for a long time on the actual act, but we never held off on all the rest. I'm a certified expert in driving this girl in my arms wild. I know just what pushes her buttons, and I'm pulling out all the stops tonight.

As I continue, she wiggles her jeans the rest of the way off and wraps her legs around my waist, pushing me closer from behind with her heels. Gladly I comply, my hand going back down to her drenched underwear, softly stroking her through the thin, wet cotton. Her hips buck up into my hand, and I can feel her thighs clench around it, not wanting to let me get away.

I work my fingers around the fabric and suddenly I'm touching her soft, warm, wet little honey pot, sliding my digits along the folds until I feel my goal – that hooded bundle where all the fun happens. I smooth my middle finger over it expertly, and she almost cries with relief. Shit, how long has it been for her? In another part of my mind, I wonder why the fuck her husband can't at least do this for her.

Ah, fuck, who cares? If he did she wouldn't be here, and here is where I want her. I know she loves this next part, and I take my finger away for a second, then gently tap it back on her clit, oh so soft and easy – over – and over – and over. Just like I knew she would, she starts moaning, her hips thrusting with a frenzy, and I keep it up. I can make her cum this way – I've done it more times than I can count – but maybe I just want to get her right to that edge…

"Omygod, Jacob…please…" she sobs, her voice high-pitched and gasping.

A slow, knowing smile spreads across my face in spite of what I'm doing and like the arrogant bastard I am, I whisper, "Please what, babe?" I don't stop tapping, but I slow it down. Way down.

"Don't…don't make me beg you," she pleads. But I know this game. She wants to beg. She loves to beg.

I move my face away from her chest and press my lips to her neck right below her ear. "Mmmm, baby," I breathe, barely opening my lips. "Whaddya want?"

She doesn't hesitate an instant before she whispers with absolute urgency, "You, Jake. I want you."

Nope, not over yet. Again I softly goad her, "You want me how, honey?" I say it fast, because I know she's almost there, and I don't want to ruin it.

"Inside me," she whines. "Please Jake – God - please fuck me."

Without a word, I hitch my boxers out of the way of my cock, poise myself over her and look into her eyes as I sink that thing up to the hilt in her tight, hot slice of heaven. I'm right where I've wanted to be for the past six months, and it feels just as good as I remember it.

She stares at me in wonder, like she can't believe I'm here, and I gotta say – I know the feeling. I can't believe we're doing this either. I'd been convinced that we'd never be together this way again; I'd thought it was an impossibility because of the marriage. But I'd been wrong. She stares at me with awe – and I stare right back, rapt, holding my breath like I'm about to plunge off one of the sea cliffs.

I haven't stopped moving, nor have I ended the teasing I'm doing to her clit, and her eyes roll back as she bucks back up into me. It's a weird angle for my wrist, but I know she loves that tapping thing, so I keep it up as I continue to thrust slow and easy. Nothing hard this time; despite our urgency, I still want to be careful with her. I don't want her to hurt.

But if the expression on her face is anything to go by, she's not hurt in the least. In fact, she's just about there, and I whisper into her ear urgently as I increase the speed of the pulsations I'm doing with my finger, "Let it go, baby. Cum for me."

She sucks her breath in for a second, holds it, and then her eyes open in surprise and her little kitty starts clenching me from inside as she falls over the edge. Ohhh, fuck – I can't hold off. I let go, hot ropes of jizz splashing into her, splashing back onto my hard, swollen cock, so that it feels ten times hotter now than it did a second ago. Nothing - nothing feels better than making love to Bella. There's no comparison, no substitute that can hold a candle to this.

She doesn't take a second to recover and she's devouring my face with kisses, moaning, "Omygod, Jacob. Oh. My. God."

I chuckle, smoothing back her hair from her forehead and pressing a kiss there. "You okay, baby?"

"I'm perfect," she smiles, looking relaxed and drowsy. "I love it when you do that tapping thing."

"I know," I grin cockily, and she slaps me lightly on the chest. "But seriously, are you pissed? Do you regret it?"

"No, I'm not pissed," she says quickly. She doesn't comment on the regret.

I'm afraid to hope that she'll take this as a hint from fate that she should leave the leech. Is it possible? Could one instance of incredible sex make her change her mind? I think it can, but I'm naïve. I've been sure of things before and had them disappear like a puff of smoke. I trust my instincts with everyone and everything else but her.

A brief flash of memory, another night, different circumstances, skitters into my brain and suddenly I'm somewhere else, some time else: The window is open, letting in the humid midnight air. Billy is here, asleep in his room. Bella and I are tangled together, desperate and hungry as only two teenagers can be. I hear the sounds of crickets and frogs float through the window. A gentle rain begins and our movements quiet, slow…then stop. We lie staring at the ceiling and listening to the soft drizzle hitting the roof. And she says, "Why do I feel like this is about to end?"

It happened then and I feel like it's happening now. Only that last time, I'd had no idea that her parasite was in the area, stalking her already, lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to snatch her away from me. This time I'm well aware of the sinister presence.

I knew going into this that the odds weren't in my favor. I know she's more than likely going back to her vamp. I don't profess to know why, especially after everything she's told me, but still, I think I'm prepared.

She snuggles into me just like she's always done after we finish making love, and I give a silent prayer of thanks that no one has to go home tonight. I remember those nights last summer, when after a marathon performance, we'd still have to get up and get her home. Now she's free to stay, Billy's not here, and we have the delicious freedom of sleeping in each other's arms. I coil my grip around her tightly, afraid she'll move away in the night, and kiss the top of her head.

"Jake?" she says plaintively.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Thanks."