Chapter 12: Would you like to play a Game?
Jake kisses from the tips of my fingers, all the way to the crease of my elbow where his tongue flicks out in a sweet slow burn. His teeth nibble at my sensitive skin just to softly kiss my elbow.
I felt everything last night. It was the warmth, sweetness, anger, frustration, fear, and overwhelming pleasure all wrapped into one night. There was no need for restraint or balance. My fall from grace was deliciously warranted.
Our eyes meet as the heat sweeps through my stomach and flush into my chest, neck and cheeks until I look away from his fervid eyes. My senses are heightened when I'm around his intensity.
I keep searching for the balance of energy between us, but he's so overwhelming. I want to bathe in his darkness. I always break our trancelike eye contact before I give up my secret: I love the way you scare me.
"Don't get shy now." His grip tightens around my waist as he pulls closer. "You weren't acting like that last night," emphasizing his remark with a bite to my collarbone that sends the heat shooting back down to my center. "When you begged me to fuck you every night." His tongue swirls as his lips suckle at my nipple. "When you said you can't live without me inside you."
"I had bourbon last night," I whimper into his obsidian hair, rubbing my nose into his pine scented scalp. I can't be blamed for my released inhibitions. Confident sex with Jake felt like some sort of awakening.
Jake smells so sweet and heady. I bury my face into his thick mane, threading my fingers through, hoping the strands will somehow attach themselves to my nerve endings. I want to bleed him dry for every ounce of pleasure he can give me. The heart pumping desire continues to run wild.
My brain mulls over what happened in the bar last night. I keep playing it back in my head; the painful moment Jake sees me with his enemy. Why wasn't he angry at me? Why did the tension leave his voice when he told me to get in his car. Why did he go as far as claiming me in front of everyone, if it would only cause trouble?
"Yeah, don't remind me." Looking up to glower at me in disapproval, his eyes show a hint of anger. It's so faint, it seems trivial, hollow.
I feel the frustration from the night before creep back to the surface, sending waves and currents back to the unresolved issues.
"It wasn't a big deal. It was like three shots," I counter. Why is that the only thing on your mind? The bourbon wasn't enough to leave me completely clueless. The bourbon wasn't enough to make me think about Edward. I was a fly on the wall during a hostile negotiation, not attending a date.
"I don't give a fuck if it was one drink. You shouldn't have been there. You were sitting in the lap of the Italian's favorite son," he retorts.
"You said you weren't mad. I didn't even know who he was. Do you really think I would have been there if I knew?"
"Yeah! That didn't stop you from talking to me. You knew I was a part of the Wolves bloodline and didn't care."
"You're different," I excuse his accusation as floundering. I make sure to maintain eye contact. You are different. You're aura pulls me in. "I only want you. You don't hide your true nature from me." I dip my toe into the lava to see if it's safe. "Which is why I want you to explain what happened in the bar," I let my inquiry out in a rush. I have no idea if his volcano is active. It erupted in anger inside the bar, pleasure within my bed, but things can always change. This time I can get burned.
"You don't need to worry about what happened in the bar." He faceplants between my breasts, lips at my pulse like a human lie detector. One beat off pace, one slight twitch, one risen degree in my temperature, and he'll know just how much last night had an effect on me.
"Well, I think you should tell me, especially since I'll probably see the Cullens again."
"Why would you see them again?" He jerks away slightly. Uh oh— the bull has seen the red cape. He's scuffing his hooves. All it takes is a flare of the nostrils and we're at the start of a charge.
My heart is no longer steady. "You know, small towns and all… Besides, I thought I'd give you a chance to explain before somebody else does. People talk." But I'm no bullfighter. Backing down from the confrontation is easier said than done. We're already in the middle of the bullring.
"No, what happened in that bar stays in that bar. You don't want to get caught by the wrong crowd talking about this shit."
"So what can you tell me?" We were both there. I heard every word, saw all the blood.
I'm met with silence and pursed lips. Am I still a stranger to you? Have I not shown you how much I care about you?
"Fine! If you won't tell me, I'll have to find out for myself." My frustration has me pushing away from his frame. I roll out of bed and pull his wallet out of his jean pocket. I flip open his battered, burgundy leather wallet and find something I've never seen before. "What's a tribal card?"
Once again, the silence is deafening. Jake lays out on his back, arms spread in a "T" shape.
"So tell me, Jacob Ephraim Black, blood type O, brown eyes, black hair, 6'6", of the Quileute Nation-" I'm interrupted by a breathy chuckle. "What!" I straddle his waist, looking over him, searching for the truth. "I'd like to know who's been fucking the shit out of me. It's not everyday someone tells a room of men that I belong to him."
We have a staring match, his calamity to my clumsy interrogation. I bluff with a raised brown, tapping at his chest with the corner of the ID card.
"I like the way you look at me. Like when I showed up at your doorstep a couple months ago, and you held that fishing rifle to my head. You can feel me. I'm sure of it."
"I can." I laugh at his hardened member that's raising to attention. "And I didn't hold the rifle to your head, I just pointed it at your face."
"No you feel me, my spirit. And yeah, you almost took my eye out with that thing."
"Yeah, I can always feel your presence, Jake. You command the room. I nearly died when you first came here, and when you walked into the bar. I can always feel when you're near."
"So I need you to feel me, and understand when I say to stay away from the Cullens."
"And I'm telling you that this is a small town, so I'm bound to run into them. I'm not walking on eggshells or running from my hangouts because some people are in town. You just said there's nothing for me to worry about. You won't even tell me anything."
"Bella they aren't some boy band, they're the fucking Italian Mafia: old money, old secrets, deeply rooted connections."
"Well you said something last night about them leaving, so what's the big deal?"
"I don't ever want to give him a chance to touch you again. I don't like the way he looked at you. Forks is their territory. As long as they're in town, I can't protect you here. And they don't want to leave anytime soon."
"Why don't they want to leave?"
"Because leaving would mean admitting defeat and conceding to our demands. This isn't about profit. It's about power. The treaty is the only thing holding us back. My family is put at a disadvantage when they're in town."
"But they don't actually live in town, so what is this fight really about? You all can't stand to be in the same room. Sam was pushing legal paper. How much power do they have?" How much power could they really have if I've never heard of them?
"All you need to know is that business is not going smoothly. They were supposed to be gone and stay gone, but somethings up. Every time they come around here, shit hits the fan. Things go left, and we're always the ones that have to clean it up and suffer the consequences.
"The Cullen's father is a doctor. He starts seeing 'patients' in the hospital. Before you know it, he's got people flying in to see him for 'treatment'. When they're here, we start to have unwanted guests stopping through, milling around. The demons of the world come crawling.
"Every time they come here, I feel less and less like who I am, who I used to be.
Being a witness is something different from participating, Bella. Remain passive on this before you have to see the monsters too."
"You're not a monster, Jake. From the time I met you till now, I've liked every bit of you. Even if you have to do bad things, I think deep down you'll still be you." I lift his head with both my hands. I wait for him to acknowledge my words and my eye contact. "Everyone has a dark side, Jake."
"Yeah and I don't want to be the reason yours comes out."
"And I'm telling you every decision I've made has been my own." I want this connection. Won't you give me this bond, this aural pathway. "Just make me understand." I want to be with you, not just for the bliss, but in the pain.
"Bella— I told you before when I'm around you, I feel normal. I feel like I can speak freely. I want you to be able to ask questions. But this— this is where things stop being easy. This is where things get dangerous, where you realize I'm not good or always right."
"Jake nobody's good or right all the time. Nobody expects you to be perfect."
"When I turn into a savage, you won't worry about what's going on, or how much you like me. You'll be running for the hills."
"I don't think that's true. I've met some cruel men, and you're not one of them." The ones that like to see you suffer. The boys who like to play games of cat and mouse, to make you beg for mercy. "You're not like your brother." You're not like Mike or his father. "Besides, I've already made my choice." My fingertips caress the howling wolves on his chest. My nails line the foreign characters, clawing for comprehension.
"How are you so sure you made the right choice?" His whisperings barely escape his full lips.
"That's like asking me how I know my favorite flavor of ice cream is strawberry; I just know." I kiss the side of his neck and lips, trailing my tongue along his jaw and back to his ear.
Snorting in disbelief, "Oh, it's that simple." He shakes his head back and forth.
"Sure it is. You're my favorite flavor of human. You're warm, strong, powerful, caring. I can't even begin to explain how you make me feel. It's all magnetic. Even when you were angry and violent in the bar, I just wanted to feel you." I want to feel all of your energy, your force. I want your aura to run through my veins. I'm not making sense. Ever since I've met Jake, I've stopped making sense. I've oversimplified everything, but I just can't seem to care.
"I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Jake tilts his head with a full smile.
We both laugh at the ridiculousness that has been conjured between us. And then he kisses me deeply, strongly, roughly. His fingers dig sweetly into my ribs.
"Let me take care of it. Stay away from the Cullens. Stay away from Sam too. You see any of them, you head in the other direction. I want you to have a choice , to be able to walk away. and I can't keep that promise if you say the wrong things to the right people."
"Woah, what does that mean? What's going on with your brother?"
"A lot of the shit that's going on right now is my brother's doing. He wants to take over as chief since he's the first born, but my dad doesn't see it that way. Sam is a hot head. He takes risks, makes side deals, and people fear him more than they respect him. My father has a choice to make either Sam or me."
"Oh, sibling rivalry." The real life Cain and Abel. Why does that not surprise me? The power struggle between Jake and his brother is palpable. It's amazing how two different styles of being could grow up in the same household with the same upbringing. "Who do you think is the right choice?"
"I'm not too sure anymore. I've never stood in Sam's way, but I'm starting to think he may be our demise. Either way, I have to watch my back. He's been watching my every move like a hawk. Anything Sam can use against me he will, including you."
"So why did you tell everyone I belong to you?"
And then time slows. It's like Jacob's voice turns soft and vulnerably confident. His words come out in seismic waves. "I like waking up next to you. I like the way you talk to me. I like the way you relax into my touch. I like the way you sigh my name. When I see you, I have a good feeling about being on this earth. I want your attention. I want your favor. I want your loyalty. I told you before we crossed that line between verbal and physical, that your soul would be tied to mine. I meant every word. I don't want to let you go. I don't want you to be taken from me. I want to be the only man you cling to. Both Sam and the Cullens should know you're under my protection. You belong to me."
I hear no shame in his voice. Everything poured from him so quickly. I barely had time to comprehend his words. I wasn't expecting simple phrases to sound so intense and mixed up. It's like he's answered my question unfiltered, straight from his thoughts.
I wish I could say these words scare me. I wish I could say that these words are enough. I wish I could say I completely understood him in this moment.
He sits up and kisses my lips softly, holding me for dear life. Grabbing at my neck to deepen the kiss, I'm pulled into his realm. It all feels like mounting ecstasy.
Dragging my lips along his hairline felt like strumming a harp the way his low moan sang for me. Open mouth kisses all over his smooth jawline sends tingles to my fingertips.
He yanks at my hips and I bite back. His hands guide and grind our centers together, feeling the connection once again. I latch onto him with my entire body suctioning to every inch of skin like an octopus.
Our heavy labored breathing spurring us on as the ridges of his dick stimulate my throbbing walls. I lean my forehead against his, feeling the volatility radiate from his fingertips as they brush up and down my spine. His hand wraps around my curls and tilts my head, lending room to his bruising lips. I ride him until we can no longer contain our voices. This time everything feels so sweet and gentle as we climax together. Why would anybody deny this bond? How could anyone abandon this feeling?
And I really thought we could just lay here all night, letting his key unlock the doors to my rapture. But a ringing phone brought us back to reality. We share a knowing glance before his lips even part.
"I've gotta go."
"I figured as much," whispering into the side of his neck as I remove my body from his.
Jake gracefully redresses, but leaves the sweater that I borrowed hours before. The natural colored piece is the most beautiful thing in the room, you can't miss it. Slung over the rocking chair in the corner of my room, It's almost glowing.
"You're forgetting your sweater. It's really cold outside," I hedge.
"I've got a wool coat in the car. You keep the sweater."
"You mean I can wear it?"
"You can have it. I've got a ton at home. The family's mothers make them every year." He pulls the sweater over my head before leaning down to kiss me one last time.
I eagerly hold him in place for a moment to fix his hair. Pulling one of my hair ties from the night stand, and bringing his thick strands into a topknot, I let the fraying bits splay out like a fan.
Now I have his sweater and he has my hair tie. I hope he wears it as much as I plan on wearing his sweater.
"Text me if you need me," he says before he slips out of my room.
I lay back in bed and listen for his ignition.
Alright, alright! What do you guys think of what Jake said? How do you feel about Bella's reaction?