Chapter 6
"I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better."
Maya Angelou
It doesn't take long for my driving to go on complete autopilot as I maneuver through the familiar roads past the town center and out into no-man's land. The view is completely obscured by darkness, which my frayed emotional state finds as a blessing. I don't think I could handle driving back to my childhood home in broad daylight. Not after the day I've had. Regardless, I feel my heart race in my chest as I turn down an achingly familiar road. I'm almost home.
When I catch the first glimpse of the house, I feel my breathing become unsteady. The second I see the outline of that beautiful two-story, white building with green shutters, it's like I've been pulled back in time. Those ten years I've been away just evaporates. The soft lights in the downstairs windows reveal that someone's home and even though I know it's an impossibility, I still expect my Dad to step out onto the porch when the front door suddenly opens. I'm forced to avert my gaze when I quickly realize that it isn't him.
Pulling into my old parking spot, I take a deep, healing breath as I turn off the ignition, conjuring up as much confidence as I can before I open the door. The gravel crunches beneath my shoes making a surprisingly loud noise as I step out of my vehicle. The farm's familiar smell surrounds me completely, as though it's welcoming me home. Spinning around slowly, I'm surprised to find Paul studying me carefully from his elevated position on the front porch. Those intense, dark eyes of his following my every move. After having spent several hours bawling my eyes out, I know I must look like something the cat dragged in. However, feeling too tired to really care, I simply pull out my overnight bag and backpack before shrugging my shoulders in his direction.
"My Dad requested that I give you a chance."
The rough, huskiness of my voice reveals my utter exhaustion.
In a slow and smooth movement, Paul walks down the stairs with confident strides and makes his way towards me. The expression on his handsome face is unreadable when he stops directly in front of where I'm standing. As he locks his almost pitch-black eyes onto mine, I feel my heart skip a beat. Awareness and mutual attraction sizzling between us. I know I should probably still be pissed at him, but I'm just so tired of always being so angry. Anger and betrayal were two major reasons for why I left this place in the first place, and now-.
Without saying a word, Paul reaches for my overnight bag, taking it from me before he motions for me to enter the house. My shoulders sag with relief, however as I walk up the steps to the front porch, I feel my stomach churn with nerves. I'm exhausted and unsure if I'll be able to handle yet another trip down memory lane. Almost as though he can sense my hesitation, Paul appears at my side, pushing the front door open with one hand while he places the other respectfully on my lower back. The heat of his hand becomes the subtle push I need to step through the front door.
Safely inside, I'm struck by an overwhelming sense of deja vu. The house is just the same. A wave of memories flash through my mind and it's almost as though I can see my Mom step out from the kitchen to remind me to brush off my shoes and wash my hands before -.
"Come on in. I was just about to eat some dinner."
Paul's deep voice manages to shake me from my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. He carefully places my bag at the bottom of the wooden staircase before taking my backpack from me as well. Then he reaches out and curls his hand around mine, leading me into the kitchen. His warm hand covering mine sends a delicious tingle down my spine and yet again the physical contact we share makes me feel safe. A small voice in my head tells me that his touch is far too intimate for someone who barely knows the other, but I'm too tired to even begin to consider what is right and wrong in this situation.
The delicious smell of a warm and hearty meal makes my stomach rumble, reminding me of how hungry I am. Paul leads me over to the massive kitchen island where I spent countless hours growing up, and pulls a chair out for me. He releases my hand almost reluctantly, before brushing his hand down the length of my back affectionately. I startle slightly at his all too familiar touch, but he's gone before I have time to react. Glancing around the room, I find myself searching for my Mom. The pain that spreads through my chest, when I catch myself, knocks the breath out of me.
Needing a distraction, I watch Paul as he walks over to the microwave and pulls out a steaming hot plate of lasagna. Placing the plate in front of me, he quickly moves both a basket of rolls and a bowl of a freshly cut salad from the kitchen counter and to the island. Then, without stopping, he expertly moves to the drawers where I remember my Mom always stored the cutlery. He returns in a matter of seconds, handing me a fork and knife.
"Thank you," I manage, my voice a broken whisper.
Paul doesn't say anything, moving instead to the large refrigerator where he pulls out an absolutely enormous tin of lasagna. The knowing half smile he shoots in my direction, sends a surge of heat through my stomach, washing away some of the numbness I've felt for far too long.
"Mrs. Cullen's making sure I don't starve," he says, cutting out a piece for himself before placing the plate into the microwave.
I briefly consider waiting for him, but the mouthwatering smell takes that decision from me. Taking a bite, I'm forced to bite back a moan. I've missed Mrs. Elizabeth's home cooking. Paul chuckles at my reaction and I'm surprised when I find that my lips have automatically begun to curl.
"This is delicious."
The microwave dings and Paul retrieves his plate. He places it next to me before making yet another round to the refrigerator.
"She's a saint," he says, returning with two brown, longneck bottles in his hands.
Opening the cap, he wordlessly places it in front of me before finding his seat. Taking the cold bottle into my hands I carefully study the Cullen Ciders label with interest.
"I'm not sure if it's such a good idea for me to be drinking two nights in a row."
Because of my Dad's addiction, I'd always been careful when it came to alcohol. I'd never touched a drop of the hard stuff before last night and I would never drink more than a pint or a single glass or wine.
Paul uncaps his own bottle, tilting the neck of the bottle towards me.
"Don't worry, I'm cutting us both off after this one, but after the day we've both had, I think it might do us some good."
Throwing caution to the wind, I click my bottle against his before lifting it to my lips. An addictively sweet and spicy taste instantly fills my mouth, sending my taste buds into a frenzy. The sugar and subtle kick of alcohol sends a gratifying surge of energy through me and I feel my body slowly begin to relax after an incredibly trying day. A comfortable silence fills the room as we quietly eat our meal. Watching Paul eat is oddly fascinating and I'm forced to look away on several occasions. When we both eventually finish, I jump down from my chair and take his plate and mine over to the sink to rinse before placing them into the familiar dishwasher. Without a word, Paul also gets to his feet, assisting me with the rest of the dishes. In a strangely perfect domestic dance, we effectively clean up the kitchen.
When I've finished wiping down the kitchen counter the way I know my Mom would approve of, I'm surprised when Paul's warm, calloused hand yet again wraps around mine. Although there's a substantial part of me that wants to pull my hand back and scream at him for touching me, I find myself so desperate for a comforting touch that I don't question it. Allowing myself to be led out of the kitchen and into the cozy living room of my childhood, I feel my breath hitch as vivid memories bombard my tired brain. Luckily they all fall away quickly when Paul pulls me down onto the soft cushions of my Mom's favorite couch.
"We should talk."
Unable to maintain eye contact, I glance down and study our intertwined hands instead, as they relax comfortably on the soft material between us. Why does his touch feel so natural to me?
"I know," I respond, somewhat reluctantly.
I'm so tired of everything being so heavy and depressing. The meal and beverage has given me a little more energy than before, but my emotions still feel raw and I really don't know how much more I can handle. Paul's thumb slowly begins to move, caressing my skin tenderly as though he realizes, even before I do, just how much I'm in need of physical comfort.
"I presume you read the letters?" his voice is achingly soft.
Instantly I feel the tears burn in my eyes and do what I can to blink them away.
"One of them."
Casting my eyes to the ceiling, I brush away a wayward tear.
"I really don't want to talk about it."
Paul simply nods, before he gently squeezes my hand.
"Yeah… me neither."
I'm surprised when he too brushes away a tear. Studying him carefully, I realize that his eyes appear to be almost just as puffy as my own. The dark rings under his eyes also prove that he has been having a difficult time sleeping.
"You really loved my parents."
It isn't a question. Paul's onyx eyes shoot to mine, the amount of pain and bottomless grief in them, taking me completely by surprise. He isn't able to answer me vocally, but he quickly bobs his head confirmation. Reacting completely on instinct, I lightly move my thumb in a circular motion across the palm of his hand; wanting, for some reason, to give him comfort. I try not to second guess the fact that I suddenly feel the need for affection.
"Do you usually tend bars after a day here on the farm?" I ask, deciding to change the course of or conversation.
The sharp laugh that rumbles through Paul's chest in response to my question, sends a rush of goosebumps across my skin. Pleasure and a heady sense of pride spreads through me, making my head spin over the fact that I've successfully managed to make him laugh. Why I even care, is a question I quickly dismiss.
"No," he shakes his head.
"As you probably already know, work on the farm is more than enough labor for one day."
He grows serious, silence building between us, before he finally elaborates.
"Jared, who works with Rosalie over at Mac's, is a good friend. After Rose got pregnant, Jare stepped up and has been taking a lot of extra shifts. I offered to step in so that he could have a night off and visit his boyfriend in Port Angeles."
His other fingers grow bold as they interlace our fingers for a moment, before continuing their movement, tickling my skin as they set my body on edge. X-rated memories of the night before flash through my mind, a welcome distraction to all the pain and grief.
"Is that where you took me? To his apartment?"
My voice has a sensual edge to it that takes even me by surprise. Daring a quick glance in his direction, I feel my breath hitch and my heart race at the sizzling heat I find in his smoldering gaze. Holy, moly.
When I feel my body slowly begin to lean towards him, almost as though there's an invisible rope between us pulling us together, I shake my head sharply, forcing myself back to the present. Heat immediately explodes on my cheeks and I quickly look down to hide the physical evidence of my embarrassment.
"Paul," I admonish weakly.
The bastard has the nerve to chuckle, the low timbre of his tone sending ripples of something I really shouldn't be feeling at the moment.
"Yes, it was Jared's apartment. He let me crash there since it's much closer to the bar."
I nod, keeping my line of sight strictly averted.
"I know you probably won't believe me, but I was going to tell you."
The tone in his voice is heartwarmingly genuine, gently coaxing my eyes to his. He surprises me by carefully inching his body a little closer, almost as though he's testing the waters. Leaning down ever so slightly, so that our faces are completely in line with one another, he continues.
"After you fell asleep, I stayed up for a long time trying to figure out the best way to tell you who I was. I swore it would be the first thing I did when we woke up, but then-."
"I left."
Paul pulls his lips ever so slowly into his mouth in concentration, before releasing them. His head bobbing up and down in response to my reply.
"I know I should probably say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Leah, I'm incredibly attracted to you."
His honest words cause a swarm of butterflies to take flight in my belly and that strange buzz of mutual attraction and desire echoes in my ears. Breaking our connection, I lower my head, the intensity of what I'm feeling for him too strong.
"Paul, please," I beg, the emotional rollercoaster that I've been on all day making rational decision making almost impossible.
His hand trails up my arm, pausing at my shoulder before delicately cupping my cheek, lifting my gaze once again to his. An intense yearning flares up inside of me, mirrored in his striking dark eyes.
"We probably shouldn't be doing this again. We hardly know one another."
My arguments sound weak, almost as though I'm trying to convince myself. Paul's face is so close that I can feel the heat radiate off his skin and taste the richness of his breath as his mouth opens ever so slightly and his lips lightly brush along the side of my cheek.
"Then tell me to stop," he whispers, his lips tickling my skin.
A whimper rises to my lips and before I know what I'm doing, I've buried my hands in his short, jet-black hair and pulled his lips to mine.
His hot tongue tangles with mine, engaging my mouth in a sensual dance that sets every single nerve in my body on fire. Any sliver of rational thought I might have, is thrown out the window, when I crawl onto the couch and straddle the quickly growing bulge between his two strong thighs. The acute and almost frenzied need I feel for him, is a thousand times stronger than anything I've ever felt before, including the night before. Without second guessing it, I roll my hips, feeling his length rub against me exactly where I'm burning for him. We both muffle each other's moans as the passion between us rises to absolutely insane proportions.
"Jesus, Leah, wait!"
Paul's swollen lips visibly tremble as he pulls free, his large hands digging into my ass as he forces me to keep still.
"You're right. We probably shouldn't be doing this," he breathes reluctantly, echoing my previous argument.
"It's been a really emotional day for the both of us and I really don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage."
I can see the worry and insecurity spread across his features as we're both reminded of the angry accusations I threw in his direction earlier. Creating a little space between us, I lower myself to relax against his upper thighs, his hands moving to my waist and back. Keeping my hands around his neck, I study him yet again carefully. The red splotches around his lips and the heat in his eyes does nothing to extinguish the lust I feel simmering inside of me and I can clearly see that he feels the same. Yes, the day had probably been one of the most emotionally draining days I'd ever been through, but bearing that in mind; perhaps this was exactly what we both needed. Companionship and a whole lot of pleasure to wash away some of the pain. Our night together had proved that we were compatible and the chemistry between us was out of this world. It didn't need to mean anything, people had casual sex all the time.
He's a great guy.
I hear my father's voice echo in my head, his words causing me to pause. Paul had just admitted to loving my parents and I was quickly learning that they had loved him. Starting something with him could really complicate things. Unfortunately, the desires of the flesh tend to speak far louder than cold, rational thought. In the next second, my decision is taken from me when my body instinctively leans forward, dropping a soft kiss against his strong, commanding lips. Clearly taking him by surprise, I quickly pull back before he has time to react. Desperate for neither of us to change our minds, I quickly tug off my jacket, throwing it somewhere behind me, but quickly continue by pulling my shirt over my head, leaving my upper body bare except for my black satin bra. Paul's eyes grow wide with surprise.
"Leah?"
The way he says my name reminds me of a prayer.
"You're not taking advantage, Paul," I tell him. Keeping the continuation of the sentence silent, allowing it to ring loudly in my head instead.
I am.
Reaching behind me and quickly unsnap my bra, slowly lowering it, the way his dark eyes ignite with carnal lust as they lock onto my breasts makes my head spin.
"Make me feel good, Paul."
My voice sounds almost childlike and I can scarcely breathe as I wait for his response. Luckily I don't have to wait long. It doesn't take him long to take my bait. Burying his fingers in my hair, he covers my lips with his in a searing kiss as he plasters his upper body against mine. Then, he tenderly strokes down the length of my back, before moving them to support my ass as he gets to his feet. Hooking my feet at his back, I kiss down the side of his neck as he moves us down the hallway to one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor. When he opens the door, I quickly realize that the room must be his, because I'm immediately surrounded by his scent.
When I'm playfully thrown onto his bed, I can't hold back a delighted giggle, the positive emotion sorely welcome after the day I've just had. Paul's wide, returning smile reveals that he too is in need of a little lightness and positivity. Sending me a sexy and mischievous wink, I feel my giggle grow stronger when he begins unlacing my shoes. After each shoe drops to the ground with a thump, the light mood between us shifts as he pulls off my socks and sensually begins kissing my feet. His hands soon find the waistline of my tight jeans and kneeling on the bed next to me he drops butterfly kisses across my skin as he slowly drags the material of my jeans down my legs. I'm visibly trembling when he eventually drags his hands up the sides of my legs and thighs before pausing at the curve of my hips.
"You," I whisper brokenly, my voice shaking audibly.
When he simply raises one of his brows in question, not understanding what I'm trying to tell him, I quickly clear my voice to explain.
"Lose the clothes, Mr. Lahote."
The sensual smirk that instantly spreads across his lips causes an immediate reaction deep inside of me. Boldly holding his gaze, I move back against the metal headboard, pushing a few pillows behind my back as I wait for him to undress. Thankfully, he doesn't make me wait for long. Pulling his tight t-shirt over his head, I can't help but drag my tongue over my bottom lip as I take in his muscular chest. A large tattoo covers the upper arm of his right shoulder, making him even more attractive for some reason. He doesn't give me ample amount of time to study him, because in the next second he has dropped his pants, leaving only his boxers as he leisurely crawls up my body, balancing against his strong arms as he keeps his body hovering just above mine.
"Last chance, Leah," he says, his voice gruff with need.
Instead of answering, I trail my hands down my naked breast and down to the waistband of my panties, sliding it down my thighs before my feet take over, relieving me of my final article of clothing. The animalistic groan I hear rise to his chest is the final drop in an already overflowing cup of desire. His strong body drops against mine, my legs making room for him as my hands desperately pull down the last barrier between us.
"Shit," he hisses, when my fingers tightly wrap around his length pumping up and down.
One hand dips into my heat, my arousal making it easy for him to bury two fingers deep inside of me, while his thumb rubs against my clit. Pleasure explodes between us, pushing us higher and higher. With a sudden painful groan, Paul abruptly pulls his hand away and rolls onto his back, reaching into the upper drawer of his night table. Body burning, I turn towards him, kissing the side of his neck as I watch him roll the condom onto his length. Then, done with waiting, I straddle his thighs, lowering myself onto him. Holding onto the metal headboard, I ride him desperately, racing after that intense pleasure I know is seconds away. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and open my mouth in a silent shout when Paul's thumb suddenly brushes over my clit sending me over the cliff. Feeling the body shatter, I almost don't notice when the world suddenly spins as I'm pushed onto my back. Paul hovers above me, his hard, length moving in and out of me at a rapid pace. It doesn't take long for Paul to find his completion, the guttural grunt against my neck sending a lusty shiver down my spine as his body collapses against mine.
We each gasp for breath, trying to still our racing hearts as we slowly return back to earth. Paul is the first to react, by rolling onto his back, pulling me tightly against him as he does so.
"Okay, so you need to promise me something," he huffs, his voice revealing the physical strain of what we've just done.
I smile, nuzzling his magnificent chest as I bask in the incredible release I've just experienced.
"What's that?"
Cupping my cheek, Paul directs my head back so that he can meet my gaze. Displaying a wide and satisfied smile on his lips and a brilliant shine in his eyes, I feel my heart skip a beat when he lovingly leans down and lightly brushes his nose against mine.
"No more running."
An uncomfortable feeling slowly begins to spread in the pit of my gut.
What the hell have I just gotten myself into?
