~Chapter Eleven~
Paul's Plan
Your Skin,
Your Touch,
The Rush Too Much,
And Here It Comes…
I Know That It's A Little Bit Frightening.
We Might As Well Be Playing With Lightning.
~Lightning, by The Wanted
Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.
Paul's P.O.V.
Frozen, Sammy stared at him with widened blue eyes. A small exhale of surprise left her parted pink lips. The Quileute stepped closer to his Imprint with his smile crooked and his large hands outstretched in the universal sign to show that harm would not befall her: I Come In Peace!
Hands clasped around her middle, Sammy tensed and sucked her lower lip into her mouth. She listened to her instincts, which screamed DANGER and PREDATOR and RUN THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM, and stiffened with each step that Paul made towards her. His Imprint nervously started to back up.
Paul, who'd been smirking rather predatorily at her not thirty seconds ago, stopped in his tracks and subconsciously whined at her swift retreat. He licked his lips and barked, "…WAIT!"
So, Sammy faltered, her heart torn. Anybody else might have heard the anger rushed into that word and done the exact opposite – Sammy should've hightailed it right outta there, listening to her common sense. She did hear it, the barely restrained fury, but something else had caught her attention, too. Something in the small, broken sound released only seconds before Paul barked his furious demand to her. Sammy slowly lifted her head to stare into his onyx eyes.
Conflicted emotions swirled around in their endless depths: Pain, confusion, unease, and –
Sammy's heart skipped another beat.
…oh.
"C'mon, I'm not going to hurt ya or anything," Paul insisted, and though his gruff words had been spoken quietly, the truth of his promise hummed within him and her. He whined softly again in the hopes of getting her to stay here, with him. Please…
Something deep within that lonely sound called out to her, to her mind, her body, and her soul. Whispers of confusion danced in between the notes of hurt. Of sadness and fear of rejection. It made her chest ache to avoid him and to keep him at bay for fear of being tricked, but that pain could not match the guilt weighting down her heart when Paul whined and reached out to her like a sad, confused child. Arm outstretched, fingers splayed and hand reaching for her –
God! It made Sammy want to cry.
Hug him, too…
Dammit!
Rain trickled down his forehead and into his heartbroken, black eyes, and Sammy wondered (with equal parts fondness and exasperation) how anybody could refuse Paul Lahote. Right, She dryly remembered: Nobody does. Sammy sighed and then subconsciously stepped closer to him now. A different set of instincts called her forward to meet him. Paul could hardly stand it; his tense body twitched anxiously with the sudden knowledge that his cute Imprint could be attracted to him.
Okay. Everybody found him attractive, Paul smugly admitted, but Sammy had refused to give in to and fall for his charms until this moment. So Paul stayed perfectly still, his head lowered and muscles relaxed to keep her calm. Sammy scanned his handsome face, searching for ill intent, but –
Paul would not hurt his Imprint.
…Never.
"Well," Sammy slowly said, before shrugging her shoulders and rubbing her cold hands together to warm up. A gleam of hope silently flickered in his dark eyes. But Sammy ruined it. "Mom's always said not to take rides from strangers, so…"
She whirled around to walk in the direction of the dark and ominous forest, and Paul panicked, his handsome face falling fast into an expression of disbelief and horror. "What the fuck? But I'm not a stranger! We go to school together!" Paul yelped.
His Imprint grinned brightly at him, before tentatively poking him in the chest, uncertain if the touch would bother her friend; in fact, Paul welcomed it. He leaned into the touch until her palm opened to touch part of his chest and his bicep, her fingers warming from the heat boiling under his tight black shirt. A large hand slowly reached upward to hold it still, to keep her hand and body close to his. He preened at the knowledge that the blush staining her cheeks had been caused by him and smirked haughtily at her.
"Oh, I don't know," Sammy slowly teased, with bright eyes and reddened cheeks. She pointed at him and intentionally moved fast enough to splash his face with the water dripping down her long sleeves. He scowled playfully at her. "You seem pretty damn strange to me!"
"Wha –?" Paul slowly blinked down at her, his straight jaw slack with his confusion, and then barked in laughter. Sammy beamed proudly at him, her lips pulled back to deepen the laugh lines beside her eyes.
He released her hand and bumped her shoulder with his elbow, being careful not to use an excess amount of force and send her flying into the puddles of rainwater. Paul snorted at her and quipped, "You're a real smartass, huh?"
"Better than being a dumbass," Sammy said, with her trademark shrug. She fiddled with the soaked hem of her oversized jacket, fingers playing nervously with the material. It lifted the material high enough to show off the curved form of her backside.
A glint entered his eye, and Paul leered down at her, sinful lips twisted into his familiar smirk of arrogance. He slowly leaned forward until his handsome face touched hers. Nose to nose. "Your ass is cute either which way."
His Imprint stuttered and fidgeted shyly under his observant gaze. She did not back away and reel herself in; instead, Sammy stayed still and left her small button nose pressed against his slender one. Paul groaned. He wanted to kiss her, to push her against the nearest surface (preferably the backseat of his truck) and buck his hips against hers. But –
A hesitant second later, Sammy slowly brushed hers side to side, giving Paul his first Eskimo Kiss.
Sammy…
Eyes soft, Paul sighed and smiled down at the adorable picture his Imprint painted. She was so much smaller than the natives of La Push. He marveled at the differences in their skin colors, in their heights and weights and strengths. It made him feel invincible because nothing could hurt him, which in turn meant that nothing could hurt her, although her smaller size worried him for that same reason. She couldn't defend herself. A thought that scared him senseless, and also painfully aroused him…
Women here were pretty tall, with lean frames and sinewy muscles, but Sammy didn't have that much muscle aside from the small muscles in her upper arms and legs. Wet clothing stuck to her skin and outlined the softness of her feminine form, hiding nothing from his perusal. He glanced from her blushing face, to her pouting lips, to her arms over a soft, large chest, and to her wider hips. She returned the favor and hesitantly observed his taller form, from his softly spiked hair, to the smirk teasing his lips, to the muscles rippling beneath his russet skin, and down to his slender but strong hips.
A pleased growl escaped his lips. She liked him. He could tell.
Inwardly, Paul pumped his fist. YES!
"Okay! Stop it! I feel like I'm about to be eaten –" Sammy suddenly exclaimed, her loud voice breaking with nervousness and cracking at the particular word. He reminded her of the Big Bad Wolf…
Oh, Paul wickedly thought to himself, licking his lips at the thought of her spread out before him, completely bare and at his mercy. You will be, but not how you're thinking of it, Baby Girl.
Oblivious to the perverted thoughts running through his mind, Sammy continued to babble and rambled, "– and I probably taste really bad, not at all like chicken, and who wants to eat pale people, anyway? We're Vitamin D deficient, which can't be healthy, I'm sure, and –"
"Come on," He gruffly muttered, before ambling over, standing behind her, and reaching out to lift the (yes, still) protesting teenage girl into his truck. Which, Paul winced, probably made it look like Paul kidnapped her! Oops…
Once in the truck again, Paul blasted the heat to the fullest, knowing that while the rain would not bother him, it would her. His Imprint, with her smaller form and her delicate nature, would probably get sick from standing in the rain, whereas Paul would merely dry in the next fifteen or so minutes with the help of his elevated body temperature. Shifters naturally reached about 105 to 110 degrees. Toasty~! Yep!
With that in mind, Paul wrapped his arm around the back of her seat and let her cuddle into the warmth that radiated from the long limb, his hand resting against her shoulder. He could not help but want to keep her safe and healthy. And Paul liked to touch her, too. Made him – uh, his Wolf – happy…
Shyly, Sammy reached out to touch the back of his hand, and smiled at him. She met his black eyes and then ducked her head to stare down at his hand, playing with his calloused fingers. "…Thanks for the ride, Paul."
"'Course," Paul muttered, his voice low and rough in tone. He cleared his throat to rid it of that darker quality because it sounded somewhat threatening, even to him, and asked, "Where do I need to take ya, anyway?"
"Oh!" Sammy chirped, her head tilted to the side in thought, and then winced. While Sammy had fun with Paul, her brother remained at home, in bed and sick. "Well, I actually needed to stop by Wal-Mart, but I know you probably have lots of things to do and –"
"'s fine," Paul interrupted. When the small girl made to protest again, Paul removed his hand from the back of the seat and squeezed her knee gently with his hand, letting his warmth sink through her damp jeans and into her skin. His hand returned to its original place, behind her head.
Guilt flickered through her blue eyes, and Sammy hesitantly faced him, her expression doubtful. "Really, I don't want to bother you or anything; I could always get the Jeep and head there by myself, Paul."
"My Mom isn't going to be home 'til later tonight, and I don't have anything else to do," Paul easily explained, glancing to her with mischievousness in his eyes. "It's not like I'm going to head home and do homework, like somebody else I know…" He smiled cheekily at her indignant expression. "You got me all to yourself."
Snort. Amused, Sammy (over)dramatically rolled her blue eyes and grinned crookedly at the taller teen, her expression of cheek matching his. Clapped her small hands and sarcastically cheered, "Lucky me!"
Stopping at another red traffic light, Paul used the opportunity to lean down and brush his lips against her left ear, which quickly turned pink with embarrassment. He exhaled, hot breath warming her cheeks, too. And Paul purred, "Can I get lucky, too?"
His Imprint practically fainted; the blood rushing to her head didn't helping the situation in the least. She shoved his face away with both of her palms and yelped, "Jesus! I said that I'm lucky, Paul, not that I'm getting lucky!"
"What? I can't hear you! My ears must be clogged from all of that steam burning up your cute face," He announced, his shoulders lifted in feigned carelessness, and moved his pinky finger to mime digging around in his ear.
Expression bland, Sammy eyed him with distaste and dryly demanded, "What is wrong with you?"
"…An abnormally high libido?" Paul suggested with another smile, his lips pulled back and teeth shining brightly in the passing headlights of other cars. He lifted his eyebrows up and down and playfully moved his hand down the length of his muscular form.
"Pervert," Sammy muttered under his breath and glared at him through narrowed blue eyes, a small smile curling her pink lips upwards nevertheless. She turned her face to hide the smile from her friend, but Paul had already noticed it. He snickered.
Silence reigned for several minutes, during which time Paul absently carded his fingers through the long strands of her yellow hair, thumb brushing against her cheek. Softer skin like that only made him want to touch her more. And Paul could only imagine how pale and soft the rest of her skin would be against his own.
What would Sammy look like resting – naked and sated – in his bed, in his arms?
Paul wanted to know.
Now, however, Paul satisfied himself with simply being next to her. Beside him, Sammy basked in the comfort of his presence and their companionable silence and turned toward him, her small form pressed into the warmth of his side. She shyly curled her fingers into his dark t-shirt and pretended that it could be his hand wrapped around hers, instead. Idle thoughts of his hands moving down her face and her sides to rest at her hips before pushing her thighs apart, him standing in between them, then crossed her mind. A blush stained her cheeks.
Eyelashes fluttered to rest against her flushed cheeks and brushed against his fingertips. He brushed his thumb against them and continued to card his fingers through her thick hair, his chest rumbling pleasantly. His Imprint relaxed into the seat, humming in contentment and drifting in and out of sleep. The Shifter leaned down to momentarily rest his cheek against the top of her head. My Imprint…
"What about you?" Paul asked, and his voice was rough with feral possession, a sound that the other teenager didn't hear. She listened to the steady pounding of the rain against the cab of the truck, instead; it slipped down the windows and made it hard to see even an inch in front of his F-150.
"…What about me?" She sleepily asked him several minutes later, expression sweetly confused with the question, and Paul bit back his grin of amusement. He glanced down at her from the side, attention focused primarily to the rain slicked road ahead.
"Well," Paul explained, "I just wanted to get to know you some more. Me? I like to work with the F-150, which belonged to Dad. He's dead, but Mom works at Mercy's Hospital." He frowned at the sudden tic in her eye. "What about you, Sammy?"
"Um…" Blinking, Sammy rubbed her eyes and cleared them of sleep. "I like to read, and write, and stuff like along those lines, but I also like to work with cars." She smirked at the surprised look in his eyes. "My brother and I learned from Daddy. He maintains tanks for the military." She paused. "…Mom and I used to bake together…"
A sympathetic frown replaced his surprised expression, but Sammy didn't really mind because if anybody could understand not seeing their parents, it would be him. "You don't get to spend much time with them, do you?" Paul quietly asked.
"Not really," Sammy finally responded; her face turned to stare out the window at something that Paul could not quite see. It reminded him of his Mom. "Daddy is overseas, and Mom is…"
"What about her?" Paul blurted without thinking and promptly cursed himself the moment that the eccentric teenage girl turned to face him, her smile soft, if not sad. Sammy responded only with: "She hasn't been home for awhile."
"Oh…" Paul said, before clearing his throat again. He frowned suddenly in concern as another thought hit him. If Sammy was seventeen and did not live with either of her parents, then – "Who do you stay with, then?"
"My brother," Sammy answered simply, but her expression brightened considerably, which told Paul just how much her brother actually meant to her. "He's going to Clemson University to get his degree in engineering, but since everything is haywire at home, Seth volunteered to watch over me."
Again, Sammy quieted, her face falling into despair. He recognized it, too. When his Dad died, Mom cried all of the time and refused to touch him for several months because her only son was a mirror image of his father. Paul wanted to run away and bury his head in the sand, pretending that nothing bad could happen to him and his Mom again.
Over time, though, Paul transitioned from emptiness, to sadness, to anger, and his temperament stayed that way as well. A Shifter could usually learn to control it, but Paul? He wanted to be angry. It helped make him stronger, and Paul needed that brute strength to keep his Mom safe.
Paul'd promised his Dad…
I'll always be there.
He signaled and pulled his truck into the Wal-Mart parking lot, but Paul spared another glance at his Imprint, too. In his heart, Paul could tell that her home life bothered her. She might not be neglected and abused, but dealing with all of that stress and pain could still hurt her, especially since the girl did not have friends at La Push High…
No, Paul paused, his hands turning the steering wheel until it had pulled far enough into the parking space and shifted the F-150 into PARK. …She has me.
A smile brightened his normally dark and angered expression into one of excitement. "Hey, I have an idea," Paul said, sounding eager, and yet still somewhat hesitant for her answer.
Curiously, Sammy blinked at him with big, blue eyes. She carefully climbed down from her seat, being certain to find the built-in step before sliding out of the F-150. "What is it, Paul?"
The Shifter easily stepped out of the monstrous truck, his smile bright and mischievous. He walked around the side of the truck and carefully pulled her smaller hand into his, before tugging her along beside him. Sammy smiled shyly to herself and curled her thumb around his large hand, feeling truly happy for the first time in months.
Paul smirked down at her.
"You'll see!"
***Author's Note***
Hi~! Sammy is down in the dumps, but Paul has been there before. He's trying to cheer her up! :)
So, I have something funny planned for the next chapter, which I think some people might recognize in the foreshadowing from this chapter, and then their date! Several lovely readers guessed the movies, the diner, a picnic in the forest, and - something I hadn't thought of but love - a roller derby meet. Can you all just picture Sammy falling all around? Paul'd probably have a serious heart attack! Hahaha! XD
Please Read and Review!
Update = 92ish Reviews