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Jailbait: Chapter Twenty One

Rachel's POV

He pulled me up the little front path. It cut the front garden directly in two almost like something from a storybook. The garden had a border of flowerbeds, all planted up with neat rows of flowers. I didn't know anything about gardening or flowers or anything like that but I thought it looked pretty. Paul pushed the front door open.

"Wait!" I hissed. "Shouldn't you knock first?"

He smirked, "Rach, baby, I grew up here. It's my parents that live here, remember?"

"Still." I said stubbornly, surreptitiously surveying my surroundings. I was standing in a hallway, there were three doorways leading out of this room. One, judging by the cooking smells emanating from it, was the kitchen.

"Stop stalling, c'mon." He said to me and then raised his voice. "Mu-um! Dad!"

"Paul? Is that you?" A female voice called out, shortly followed by a woman appearing at the kitchen doorway. She was clutching a red and white striped towel which she was wiping her hands on.

She was tiny, a good inch or two shorter than me, and had long dark hair, with a few streaks of grey which was wound into a neat bun at the back of her head. She was slender but still curvy. She had large, dark eyes and a small mouth. She was pretty, I noted. She didn't look very old either, she had hardly any wrinkles. She looked a lot younger than my Dad, although Daddy had been older when Becky and I were born and Paul was even younger than I was.

"Nah, it's one of your other children." Paul said sarcastically accompanying this with a roll of his eyes.

"Don't be cheeky!" She moved forward, swatting at him with the aforementioned towel and reached up on tiptoes (he helped out by leaning right down) to kiss his cheek. She turned to me. "Well, hello there you must be Rachel."

I stuck my hand out for her to shake; she ignored it and swept me into a hug. She finally released me and held me at arm's length.

She smiled. I noticed her smile was just like Paul's. "I've heard so much about you. I really have-"

"We both have, he never shuts up about you!" An older man had appeared beside Paul's mum suddenly. I assumed it was his Dad. He was about six foot which would have been impressive if his son hadn't been five or six inches taller than that. He looked older than his wife and had a full head of silvery grey hair.

Paul blushed faintly. "Thanks, Dad. You just wrecked my whole image."

His Dad winked. "Anytime son. Anytime."

I giggled. Paul made a face at me, luckily his parents didn't see.

"Well dear, you should probably invite the poor girl in." His dad said, sliding an arm around his wife's waist.

"Oh yeah, probably should. Come on in Rachel, you're even prettier than he said, you know."

"Oh?" I said, raising an eyebrow at Paul.

He blushed again. "Mum, you didn't have tell her that."

"I really did, dear." She said perfectly straight faced, leading us into the living room. It was a big room, considering the size of the house, and was...cosy. There was a little fireplace which wasn't lit. There were a few photographs littering the room and a couple of paintings on the walls.

"And we haven't even got the baby photos out yet." His dad said grinning and sitting down in a leather armchair which was clearly his.

Paul groaned. "Please, please don't."

"I'd love to see baby photos." I smiled sweetly.

"You don't." Paul assured me, sitting down on the sofa and pulling me with him.

"Why not?"

"I was kinda...well, as a kid, I was a bit...you know...chubby." Paul looked embarrassed.

I bit my lip, quickly succumbing to laughter. I heard his parents join in with me.

"You know what, Rachel?" His mum said happily. "I think you'll fit right in."

I smiled.

The talk just flowed naturally. I loved the way the family interacted, they constantly teased each other. His parents seemed to have made it their life's mission to humiliate Paul as much as possible which meant that I spent most of the time in fits of laughter. As promised, his mum went and found a whole album full of photos of Paul as a kid. He protested for ages, finally admitting defeat and sulking whilst I flicked through it with his mum, chortling occasionally as she accompanied each photo with a story.

The time seemed to fly by. About four, Paul made our excuses and practically dragged me out of the door. His parents stood and waved us goodbye from the porch step.

"You have to come again soon, Rachel!" His mum called.

"I will." I grinned.

Paul groaned loudly once we were in his truck and driving away, "Please, please don't."

"Don't what?"

"Ever go over again. I'd forgotten how embarrassing they are."

I giggled. "They were nice. At least they didn't threaten to kill you...like my parent or brother."

Paul chuckled. "Yeah, suppose you're right." His tone turned serious. "The death threats didn't bother me though, they would have had to do a whole lot worse to stop me coming to see you."

Butterflies kicked me in the stomach. I loved it when he said sweet things like that. I just never knew what to say back. "Love you."

"You too." He had this big fat grin on his face as he said that. He tried, and failed miserably, to hide it.

I smirked. "You know you're whole entire cool guy thing has just gone out of the window."

"It hasn't." He protested. "I am still cool."

"No, Paul, you're really not. Not anymore."

"So I was cool then?" He grinned.

"For like a day," I countered.

"Better a day than not at all, like you."

I spluttered. I wasn't used to him teasing me like that. Usually, he was all careful not to hurt my feelings, which was nice, but just a bit...irritating. I liked this teasing Paul.

"Oh. Oh, you're so for it." I said darkly.

"Yeah, what're you gonna do?" He said cockily, pulling up outside my house and cutting the engine.

"I'm never going to kiss you again." I said smugly, folding my arms.

He looked actually wounded. "What?"

"You heard me. Never, ever again."

His eyes narrowed. "You won't stick to that. You can't resist me."

"Actually, babe, I think it's you who can't resist me." I replied.

"No." I raised an eyebrow. "I can resist." He said.

"Look me in the eye then." I taunted, a smile playing on my lips.

"Nope." He was very deliberately not looking at me.

I took a deep breath and nodded – I liked to win and if I had to play dirty to win, well...desperate times called for desperate measures. Carefully, I climbed out of my seat and straddled Paul. He was still not looking at me. His jaw was strained. He seemed to be concentrating very hard on breathing in and out. I smirked. The battle was half won.

"Baby?" I said softly.

"No." He managed. "It won't work."

"Wanna bet?" I pressed myself against him, enjoying the feel of his hard chest way more than I should. I pressed my lips to the base of his throat, kissing all the way up to his jawline. He let out an involuntary groan of pleasure and I grinned against his neck. Battle won.

Sure enough, his boiling hands wound around my waist pulling me even closer to him. He kissed me with more passion than ever before and I got caught up with it.

It felt so right to be this close to him, to be pressed against him, to kiss him. Our tongues danced together in long, passionate, open mouth kisses.

Suddenly, I remembered where we were and exactly how old Paul was. I yanked myself away, my back pressed up against the wheel.

"We should erm...we shouldn't..." I trailed off, trying to slow my breathing down. Paul nodded.

"You're right." He looked disappointed and a little crushed for a brief moment before he composed his expression again. It hurt me, that look. They said the imprint thing was one sided. It wasn't. When he hurt or was in pain, it hurt me too. Nothing like how he hurt, of course, but a little twinge in my chest. It worked the other way as well, when he was happy, it made me smile. Of course, some people said that that was just love.

I smoothed my hair down and climbed back into the passenger seat. I flipped the mirror down.

"Holy mother!" I exclaimed, looking at myself.

"What?" Paul said worried, his eyes checking me over anxiously for any signs of damage.

"Look at my neck!" I wailed.

Paul bit his lip. I wasn't sure whether it was concern or amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that. Erm...I got...carried away?"

"Sorry! Carried away! You've just given me two huge hickies and that's my dad and my brother in there!" I pointed at the house.

"Blame me." Paul suggested.

"Well duh, I was hardly gonna say I did it myself, was I?" I said with sarcasm heavy in my voice. "Oh, I'm so so dead!"

"They won't hurt you, I won't let them." Paul said quietly. I ignored him childishly.

I drew my hair around my face cursing the day I had cut it to shoulder length. "How'd I look?" I said.

"Incredibly beautiful."

I hit his shoulder. "Stop trying to get back into my good books. Can you see them?"

"No." He lied.

"You're going to be in so much trouble if Jake sees." I warned him. "So so much trouble."

He shrugged. "It was worth it."

I couldn't help it, I grinned. "I have to go. See you tomorrow." His face slipped into a pout. "Okay, call me later." I could deny him nothing and I also knew how much it hurt him not to be with me as much as he possibly could.

"Love you." I pecked him on the cheek swiftly and climbed out of his car.

"Love you too." He said as I slammed the door shut.

I just nodded, waved once and made my way into the house. I closed the door really quietly, trying not to make any noise and praying that I could get to my room before anyone saw me.

"JESUS!" Jake was lounging in the doorway and staring at my neck with a weird mixture of anger and amusement.

"Shush!" I hissed desperately.

Too late – Dad rolled into the porch. I wanted to die. Actually drop dead. Jake smirked.

"Rachel Black, what the hell is that on your neck?" Dad's voice was quiet and menacing.

Oh god.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it, please leave me a review telling me what you think.