Extra thanks go to the many wonderful people who helped me get this difficult chapter out! My betas bloodofbeckie and mybrandofheroin are remarkable, talented, and patient women. Thank you, angels, for sharing your vast talent and time with me.
I got input and help from some of you and I really appreciate it. Toooldforthis, author of "Coming Full Circle", morrigan author of "Turn of Events", diamondheart (aka chef diamond heart) and enajaim, all suggested or wrote the great title "The Hair of the Dog That Bites". Thank you so much! I love the title!
The price I extracted from them for receiving a rough copy in advance was sending me feedback. They all did and were extremely helpful. I also got useful suggestions from xFireSpritex (who just started her own ff on Twilighted "Everyone Makes Mistakes") and k a hall. I'm sure I'm forgetting someone. Thanks so much, guys! I really needed the help!
(Diamondheart, who almost rewrote Chapter 5 for me, wrote a wonderful one shot with the same name. Check out her "The Hair of the Dog That Bit Me" one shot. You'll love it. She has also started part two of "Moonshadow" called "Jacob's Ladder"!! Put it on your favorites because you know it will be fabulous! It already is.)
As always, Ms. Meyer owns all; I own debt and three dirty little ill behaved dogs.
WARNING: Although there is no rape in this chapter, the word rape is used. If this is going to bother you, don't read it.
Chapter 5 "The Hair of the Dog That Bites"
BPOV
Oh. My. Holy. Mother. Of. God. I couldn't move; I refused to move, I was sure I was going to die if I ever moved again. It felt as if a thousand sledgehammers were beating on one single anvil inside my pounding head. Hell on a biscuit, I wanted to die right there, whether I moved or not.
My thick tongue searched desperately inside my mouth for a drop of moisture for my aching throat. I winced; Holy Balls of Fire, my mouth tasted like a battalion of tanks had tracked through Botswana and trooped across my tongue and my eyes felt like they would explode if I opened them. Simultaneously, my stomach violently cursed me in Klingonese as it roiled and burned.
I groaned and braced myself as I warily squinted one eyelid open. Blinding light poured through the tiny sliver and caused me to utter a guttural moan of pain. Holy Crow! Stilettos dug viciously into my eyes and skull. My eyelid snapped close and refused to function. I'd never been so miserable in my life.
I lay there on my side panting, willing the brutal torment in my head to cease and desist. Seconds passed before I noticed the intense heat warming my back as cool air chilled my hot, blotchy face.
I felt a huge arm draped over my waist and a hand gently rubbed my warring stomach. Another warm hand stroked my hair away from my pulsating head. I finally realized I was being held firmly against a thickly ridged chest and body that was spooning me into melting heat. I couldn't help but smile. I loved sleeping next to Jacob.
I supposed that if you were going to wake up with the Horrific Hangover from Hades, having a Quileute demi-god folding you into his simmering core made things almost bearable. Fearing my head might detonate if I moved it too quickly, I gingerly turned and encountered the sweetest sight I could imagine. Jacob's head was buried next to mine, his shiny hair poured onto my pillow.
One warm, soft eye cracked open. "Hey Drunkerella. How ya feeling?" he asked huskily.
"Uhhgg, Jake, I feel horrible." My voice sounded like a five-pack-a-day smoker's as I laboriously rolled over on his shoulder.
"Well, that's no surprise, honey. Feel like getting up? I'll make you some breakfast," the sadist offered.
I moved with all the speed and grace of an octogenarian with double hip fractures as I carefully crawled over onto my stomach, moaning and nuzzling into his neck, my arm inching around his shoulder.
"I don't ever want to get up and nobody in this bed who wants to live should ever mention food again!" I mumbled into his skin. The thought of ingesting anything made the Klingon in my stomach stab me viciously with his bat'leth. "What on earth happened last night?" I rasped.
I could hear and feel laughter rumble beneath me. A big hand came up and resumed stroking my throbbing head. Jake leaned forward and kissed my neck. "Whatcha remember, honey?" he murmured.
I loved that low, growly voice in my ear, and smiled in response, clutching tighter to his warm body. If anything could make me feel like a human being this morning, it was Jake. He always knew, wherever I hurt, whatever it was I needed. His caressing hand was allowing my abused brain to function.
I was suddenly flooded with the most peaceful feeling I'd ever felt. My Jacob. I was in love with my Jacob. Of course I was; finally, finally I'd had a stunning revelation. I was wonderfully, totally, irrevocably in love with Jake. I smiled contentedly and snuggled closer. This beautiful, god-like man was mine.
How had I been so clueless, so incredibly, and stubbornly oblivious? A five year old could have assessed the situation in about three minutes. He was my world; he was everything to me, my own personal sun. I adored him and I had been in love with him for years. Jake, I sighed with blinding happiness as I burrowed into his body and rubbed my leg between his. My Jacob. My own Jak-
Images started flipping through my head. Scenes from last night bombarded my aching brain. Slowly, I could feel my body tensing as one scene filled my head and wouldn't leave, Jake with Amy Nichols, Jacob practically drooling down the chest of that cow-like Amy Nichols and her throwing herself all over my Jacob. Fury pounded through me as I thought of her touching him, flirting with him, shoving her stupid udders in his face.
He'd smiled at her. He had touched her and gazed into her eyes and onto her flabby bosoms like he'd wanted to dive in and never surface. No, no, NO! I clenched my eyes shut as wild emotions flooded through me. My head was pounding so hard I could barely think. My God, he wasn't my Jacob. God help me, was he her Jacob? Crap, crap, crap, what had happened? What inthe hell had I done? What in the hell had they done??
Oh, my holy God, I groaned. I remembered dancing, not with Jake but with Embry. What on earth would have possessed me to dance with Embry and - that Rick guy; yeah, it was that little squirrel, Rick Graves from my History of the Middle Ages class. What had I been thinking?
Right, you weren't thinking, I remembered. You were drinking that horrible spiked punch so you didn't have to think about Jacob with Amy Nichols.
I could still taste that atrocious crap in my mouth and my nose. I glanced at Jake and saw a tiny smile on his lips at the chaotic play of emotions flooding my face.
I remembered I'd been pretending I was dancing with Jake and he was rubbing my hair. Then Jacob, the real Jacob, had come over in a towering rage. I searched my foggy brain but couldn't remember why he'd been so furious. Jake had terrorized poor Rick and then laid into me for some reason.
I could remember whining to him about that obnoxious girl, that wretched Amy Nichols. I'd even asked Jacob if he had imprinted on her. I hadn't been able to keep my mouth from spewing the question. God, I don't remember him saying he hadn't. He never said he hadn't. Oh, holy crow, had he imprinted on that – that syrupy sweet, frigging Home Ec. major?
Think, Bella, think! What had happened next? Jake had carried me. Crap, I'd been so crocked, I hadn't even been able to walk. I vaguely remember being in Ethel's back seat snuggling into his lap. Somebody else had driven us home.
Then what? It was pretty hazy at that point. Everything had been going round and round. I remembered being in my bedroom with Jake. Something played at the edges of my memory.
"Jake," I whispered, "what happened after you got me up here last night?" It hurt to concentrate.
"Do you remember getting sick, honey?" came the soft question.
"Sick? Uhhhh, oh yeah. I remember," I croaked. God, how could I forget? I had tossed my cookies until my stomach spasmed. No wonder that damned Klingon kept launching attacks on my intestines.
Jake had been holding me, keeping my hair back. When he'd let me go I had puked all over myself and in my hair, my hair for criminey's sake! How'd I manage to forget that charming little tidbit?
"Jeeze, Jake, did I throw up on you?" Please, God, please spare me that one humiliation. Bad enough I had yakked up in front of him. Please don't tell me that I hurled on his gorgeous new suit.
"No, baby. You didn't get a thing on me. A little on you, but that was all."
A flickering picture of the shower invaded my brain. I'd taken a shower and something – more - had happened there. God, what was it? Images and flashes of scenes spun through my abused head. Holy crap, I'd been in the shower, practically naked with Jake! The water had felt so wonderful and I had reveled in it. I had thrown back my head and let the water pour down my chest. Oh, God. Jake had been holding me.
I could feel myself blanch as I lay in Jake's shoulder. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. There was more, but I was afraid to remember it. What the hell had I done?
I'd been lying against Jake's chest with the warm water pouring over us. I remembered his huge hand holding a small cake of soap and running it over my body gently. There were suds sliding down me as that beautiful dark hand rubbed my white skin.
I remembered staring at his hands and thinking how erotic they looked on me. We looked like two different species, his deep copper skin against my pale body. I'd wanted those hands everywhere, all over me. He'd run the soap lightly over my breasts, washing them. I could remember arching my back, hoping those dark hands would cup my aching breasts.
Oh, no, no, I hadn't, had I? Oh, yes, I had. I remembered the intense throbbing between my legs, my skin feeling alive as I felt those beautiful fingers on my sensitive skin. I'd wanted him desperately. I remembered. I closed my eyes in disgust not wanting to think about my next actions.
I'd reached up and pulled his head down to mine and then I'd… oh, no, no, no. I remembered. I remembered his incredible heat and his enormous erection that I'd squirmed and rubbed against. It had felt so erotic and I'd wanted him so badly; I couldn't stop myself. I'd turned around and rubbed my breasts on his gorgeous, chiseled chest. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful.
I'd straddled his thighs and rubbed my panties on the full length of him. It had felt so inevitable, so right. I was burning for him. I couldn't wait. I'd lowered myself down on him and felt him enter me, the wet, steaming cloth of my panties a hated barrier between our flesh. I'd been aching and he was hot and so huge.
Then he'd reached down and pulled away the silk separating him from my core. I'd quickly sunk down on him, reveling in the tiny barrier disappearing, feeling for the first time his naked flesh entering my body. He'd felt so hot, like smoldering iron covered in velvet inching into me, my smooth fluids making it all work, finally satisfying my aching need and then – ice-cold water hitting me in the back, pouring over my head.
Oh. MY. GOD!!! I'd-I'd raped Jake! There was no other word for it. I'd climbed up on him like some kind of skanky bar slut and I'd rubbed my crotch all over him. Then I'd…Oh, my holy Jesus, no! NO! This had to be a dream, didn't it? I'd been having erotic dreams about Jake for months and months. This was just an incredibly realistic dream, wasn't it?
Please, please, God, don't let me have drunkenly assaulted my best friend in the shower while he was trying to wash my vomit out of my hair. I couldn't have sunk that low, could I? I turned my horrified face to Jake. My mouth wouldn't close and my eyes felt like they were going to bug out of my face.
"Jake," I gasped, "what did I do to you?" My eyes pleaded with him to tell me.
He propped himself up on his elbow and pulled a piece of my hair around his finger. "Aside from raping me in the shower?" he laughed. I wheezed in horror and covered my mouth.
"Jake!" I squeaked as tears formed in my eyes.
"No, no, honey, don't get upset. There's nothing to get upset about. I was just teasing you. Don't feel bad," he smiled. Don't feel bad??
"Jacob, I-I-I actually did rape you! I have no excuse. You could file a report on me and have my dad arrest me." I couldn't meet his eyes. I'd never been so ashamed in my life because I'd never acted so horribly in my life.
"Now, hold on a minute. I should never have used that word, honey. What happened last night was in no way, shape or form a rape. Don't you ever say that again, Bella.
"It was my great idea to strip off your clothes and wash you in the shower. I was the one with the tree-trunk sized hard on. It was me who shoved your panties aside when you were sitting on my lap." He raised my face and I could see his worried expression and soft eyes. "It was all my doing and my idea. I was a total participant, and unlike you, I wasn't blasted out of my mind.
"We just were in a bad situation and we went a little too far, baby. I knew you'd regret it in the morning." I was horrified. He was going to try to take responsibility for my disgusting actions.
"Yeah, Jake, you're the one that took off my shirt I'd just barfed all over. And you washed all the crap off that I'd just upchucked all over my hair and myself. It was your idea to douse me with ice-cold water so I'd get the hell off you. Yeah, I can see how this whole scenario was entirely your fault." My head pounded and my eyes filled with unshed tears. Shame burned my cheeks red. "Jake, I'm so sorry. I have no excuse. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Bella, listen to me. I love you, honey, everything about you. Nothing you can do is gross to me. I don't care that you puked up your guts except that it hurt you. And what happened in the shower was my fault…"
I turned into his throat. God, he was so damned sweet. I could feel his voice vibrating through his chest but I just couldn't make out the words, I was trying so hard not to burst into a full-blown blubbering fit. I couldn't keep the shaking sobs from racking my body.
I knew Jake would forgive me. Heck, he would forgive me if I accidentally blew up Zimbabwe. That didn't mean that he should forgive my hideous behavior. I sniffled into his neck and I tried to get my act together so I could make sense out of his words.
"…I just told myself you would hate me in the morning if I let things continue." I heard him finish up.
"I'm so ashamed of myself, Jacob." Tears leaked out and ran down his neck.
"Quit being stupid, Bella. We're two healthy adults who were practically naked together in a shower. Why is that anything to be ashamed about?" he raked his fingers through my hair and pulled it away from my face.
"Yeah, you say that when you get bombed and attack me in the shower. I've never been more humiliated in my life," I mumbled into his skin.
"Don't even kid about me getting drunk around you, sweetheart. If I attacked you, you'd never have gotten away from me. I'm so much stronger than you are, I could hurt you without even knowing it. You were just a sexy little kitten that wanted to play. Things could have gotten ugly had the situation been reversed."
He must have thought that would upset me in some way. I have to admit, the thought of Jacob compelling me down and forcing that huge erection between my legs made me quiver with excitement. Jeez, I was such a sick puppy. Quit it, Bella! Get your mind off of Jake's crotch. You are not going to think of sex…look where it got you last night.
"Jacob Black, you know good and well that you could never hurt me; it isn't possible."
He gave me a dark, unfathomable look. "You do not ever want to see me lose total control of myself, Bella. If I got really tanked around you, honey, it would be a very dangerous situation."
"Sure, sure," I rolled my eyes. "It's not like any of you guys can get loaded anyway."
"Just because those morons haven't figured out a way to do it yet doesn't mean it's not possible."
"I swear, Jake, I never want to taste, smell or look at liquor again as long as I live."
"Oh, come here, silly girl." He flipped me over, pillowed my head on his shoulder, and rubbed my aching head. "You didn't just take a drink, Bells. You downed about a quart of that rez shit in less than ten minutes. Jesus, that would put a bull moose on its ass, much less a lightweight like you. What set you off, anyway?"
The color drained from my face. How much mortification could one hung-over dolt stand in one morning? After all I'd put him through, the least I could do was to give him an honest, if incomplete, answer.
"I saw you with Amy Nichols and I didn't like it." The words came out in a humiliated whisper.
He chuckled, "Well, I saw you with Embry and that Graves fuck and almost committed murder right in the middle of the Valentine's Dance." He took a deep sigh.
"Honestly, I would have killed that little Graves prick if the guys hadn't pulled me off him. You were out of it so fast, I thought he put something in your drink." He gently traced a finger up my arm.
"So that's what you were so ticked about."
"I came really close to losing it, Bella." Jake's voice was hushed as he confessed in my ear. "If he had hurt you, there's no way I wouldn't have ripped off that fucker's skin. I'm sorry, honey. You don't deserve to be around somebody who acts like an uncivilized animal."
I turned my head to look at his sweet face. His eyes were closed like he was trying to repress a painful memory. That had to stop immediately.
"Jacob, I love your wolf side," came my stout reply. "It's part of you and you know I love every bit of you. You have nothing to be ashamed of. If you pulled Rick Graves off of me, you probably had a good reason. I was too out of it to know what he was doing. And if he did give me or any other girl a roofie, he deserved to be flayed alive.
"There isn't another guy on the planet who would have done what you did last night. You proved what a wonderful friend you are to have taken care of me the way you did. And the way you got me off of you, well, let's just say I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend who has such discipline over himself. You are wonderful, Jake. I don't deserve you." Turning over, I kissed his shoulder.
He grunted, sounding none too pleased with my little speech and rolled out of the bed. I took a good look at him for the first time. "Jacob, what on earth do you have on?" I saw all sorts of layers of clothing sticking out on him. He looked like the Michelin tire man.
"Well, I decided we needed as much stuff as possible between our skin after our shower nightmare. So I put on everything I could find," he said sheepishly as he started stripping off a multitude of t-shirts and sweatshirts, pants and shorts. "Look at what you're wearing before you make fun of me," he snorted.
I looked down. Jacob had unearthed some hideous boys camping pajamas Charlie had sent me when I was sixteen. I didn't think I even still had the flannel horrors, much less that I would ever be caught dead in them. It looked like the Forks chapter of the National Rifle Association had dressed me.
I snorted and started to giggle in spite of myself. Jake joined in and soon we were roaring with laughter. I clutched my head in agony.
"Owww, Jake, stop, I can't stand it. My head is killing me!" I cried.
"Don't worry about it, honey. Quileute Magical Cure coming right up." He flashed me a grin and disappeared down the stairs leaving me missing his soothing hands. After a few clangs and curses had drifted up from the kitchen, he came back with what looked to be some sort of - well, some sort of blended excrement in a glass.
"Here you go, honey, drink up," he proclaimed proudly. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't honestly expect me to consume that - that…sewage he was holding…could he? I looked up at him wide-eyed and could see by his expression he could. I took it carefully and gave it a suspicious sniff. It actually smelled better than it looked, which wasn't saying much. I put it to my lips like I was taking a drink.
"Oh, no, it all goes down and the quicker the better." He put his hands on his hips and frowned at me like a disapproving parent.
"Okay, Dad, but if I puke again, it'll be all your fault this time." I held my nose, closed my eyes and swallowed. Holy Crow, it was nasty. But by the time I'd finished the last of it, my stomach felt like the Klingon had been quashed and the throbbing in my head had been reduced to a bearable level.
I looked at him in surprise. "I do feel better Jake. I think the cure is better than the ailment, but I'm not sure. That was some revolting crap."
He sat down facing me on the bed and leaned over, stroking my hair with a concerned look on his face. I stared up at him, worried. Something was up. "I'm glad you feel better, baby, since we need to talk for a minute; there's something I think you should know." He looked so serious, I braced for the worst. Oh, God, he's going to tell me imprinted on her.
"Bella, in the shower, when we – well, when I, uh, entered you, I broke your uh, well, you're no longer a virgin, honey. I found the blood on me and on you."
"Oh...ohh." My eyes grew big as his words sunk in and I was momentarily stunned. Quickly, I wondered why it hadn't occurred to me before.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to -" his expression looked remorseful, like he'd done something wrong. I blocked his soft lips with my fingers.
"Jake, not another word. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't enter me. I forced myself on you. I'm…I'm so sorry, Jacob." My voice suddenly disappeared as tears shimmered over my eyes.
He pulled me into his arms as he rubbed my hair. "Shhh, shhh, honey, none of that." He quieted my silent sniveling. "I just got your head to feel better and you're going to feel awful again if you keep crying," he soothed me. "I'll just have to make you another glass of Quileute Magic if you don't stop." I could hear the smile in his voice and I shakily laughed and rubbed my runny nose into his shirt.
"Gee, thanks, Bells. I'm so glad to have to deal with another one of your bodily fluids," he chuckled as he pulled the wet fabric away from his body.
I giggled and buried my nose in his chest. I so didn't deserve Jacob. We both grew quiet and I turned my face up to look in his soft eyes. "Was that your first time, Jake? Were you a virgin too?" Maybe I shouldn't have asked but I suddenly had to know.
A little color stained the high blades of his cheekbones as his mouth softened. "Yeah, honey, you're my first too." Thank God! I was shocked at how much I cared. I realized if I had my way, I'd be his first, last and only. I turned my head into his chest and listened to the strong beat of his heart. I wasn't going to lose Jacob no matter what I had to do.
He kissed my head and got up, grabbing my empty glass. "Okay, out of that bed, Swan and get some decent clothes on. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes."
"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" I groaned, flipping him a salute and struggling out of bed as he walked out the door.
A burning sensation between my legs made my cheeks warm and my head fill with memories of last night and what Jake had just shared. I'm not a virgin anymore. In the strictly literal sense, Jake and I had had sex.
Blood thrummed through my body as well as a feeling of fierce satisfaction. I'd had that gorgeous man in me. Our first sexual experiences had been with each other and nothing could take that away now.
My thoughts were shocking; I was glad my blood had been on him. Jeeze, Bella, that's sick, but I'd finally realized my feelings for Jacob and he was mine. I loved him fiercely and possessively and no other woman was going to experience his beautiful body, certainly not that blasted Amy Nichols, she of the huge mammary sacks.
Whether he knew it or not, I was the only girl he was going to have that way or any way. I just had to figure out how to convince him of that.
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard him banging away downstairs and I shuddered thinking about the aftermath I would face following one of Jake's meals. Jacob's good traits did not translate into neatness. He could occasionally produce an edible meal, but the resulting pandemonium would take me forever to clean up. God, please let him stay out of the bacon, I prayed and grinned to myself. He was sooo worth the hellish mess I knew he was creating.
I started undressing and noticed Jake had dressed me in an old cotton bra, ugly camisole and grandma panties my Great Aunt Celeste had sent me years ago. I guess he didn't want anything coming loose. He'd obviously put a plethora of clothes on both of us to keep me from attacking him again. God, how mortifying! The guy I'd just realized I'd been in love with for years had to practically don armor to keep me off of him at night.
I stared at myself in the mirror. It was a sobering sight. My face was splotchy and swollen, my eyes were bloodshot and my hair looked as if rabid squirrels had been having gladiatorial battles on top of my head.
"So, this is how you intend to entice Jake," I muttered quietly to my reflection so I wouldn't be overheard by a certain culinary werewolf. "You get soused, you barf on him, then you act like the biggest bar slag in the state of Washington and attack him while he's trying to take care of you. Well, congratulations, Bella. That was a real evening of accomplishments. If he wasn't before, he'll be sprinting to Amy Nichols as soon as he can run screaming out your door. C-rap!"
I struggled into my most conservative sweater hoping to do some damage control. "And no matter how gorgeous he looks, Bella, you will not do another Spruill Avenue hooker imitation."
Great, the only real sexual experience I'd ever had in my life; I had acted like a whore and the guy involved thought of the incident as "our shower nightmare". It hadn't been a nightmare to me. No, no, do NOT go there, Bella. You do not want to think about how hot and beautiful and hard – no, no, NO! He had felt and looked so fantastic and he thought the experience was a damned nightmare. Fabulous work, Bella.
God, how could I have screwed up so royally? Liquor was only part of the problem. Let's face it; I'd been sex dreaming - steamy, incredibly erotic dreams - about Jake for months. Apparently my subconscious was telling me something.
The fact that all of them exclusively and explicitly involved my best friend had been cause for a vague feeling of discomfort, but I had shrugged it off, putting it down to our close relationship and the inevitable horniness of a twenty-two year old virgin.
I was aware something was missing from my life but it had all been too easy, too comfortable. I'd just been floating through each day for the last couple of years, finally at peace with Edward's departure. I had Jacob at my side, the perfect guy. He was loving, funny, smart, and beautiful and he never made demands I couldn't meet. I knew he wanted more, but I knew he'd never force the issue.
Then, last night, I'd felt like I was standing in the middle of an exploding building as it pan caked on top of me. When I saw Jacob smiling down at another woman, it was suddenly so obvious, so clear. Jacob had become everything to me.
The thought of being without him was so horrible, I knew I'd fall back into that frozen black pool I'd lived in when Edward left, but this time I'd never resurface. And I'd used him mercilessly. I, I, I… did I ever think of anything else? How self absorbed I'd been this whole time!
For years, I'd been a selfish user. He continued to give and give to me and all I'd done was to take. Why would he continue to put up with me, much less want me? Jeeze, he'd be so much better off with Amy Nichols. He should dump my self-centered, needy ass.
Now what on earth was I going to do? I had a gorgeous sex god downstairs cooking me breakfast after the most humiliating hours of my life. Could I begin to face him? Nope, it was waaaay too soon. I was just going to hope I could slink under the carpet and act like I didn't exist. I stared into my bloodshot eyes. Why couldn't there be a convenient hole in the floor? That way I could fall into it and arrive in China where no one knew what an idiot I'd made of myself.
Speaking of which, not only did I have to remember last night's humiliation, but the whole pack was going to get a firsthand look as well. God, could I kill myself now, or should I wait until later? Maybe if I barricaded myself in my room and took correspondence courses, in a few years, nobody would remember. I buried my head in my hands. God, I felt like I needed another glass of rez moonshine!
A piercing racket erupted downstairs as the fire alarms were set off by whatever disaster Jake was concocting over the stove. This was standard operating procedure whenever he attempted to make a meal but the earsplitting din was making the anvil whackers in my head re-engage their sledgehammers.
"God, I knew he'd try to cook bacon again,"I winced. I heard the vent fans roar and howls of belligerent profanity add to the cacophony Jacob orchestrated downstairs. At least he wouldn't be able to hear me above the chaos he was reigning over in the kitchen.
I looked up and faced myself in the mirror. "Things are going to change, Isabella Marie. You are going to change them. That's enough with the 'Jake, I need you, but keep your hands to yourself' crap.
"You are going to let him see that you know he's the sexiest guy alive. You are going to act like a woman in love instead of a frozen mummy. You are going to make Jacob Black feel like the luckiest man on the face of the earth. And if you are very, very lucky, maybe you can make him love you a fraction of the amount you love him."
We were going to be flying to Milan for a major shoot and show in ten days. By then, I'd get my act together. I'd figure out what I had to do to make Jake as insane about me as I was about him, and I knew just who to ask for help. I was going to change.
"And that freaking Amy Nichols and anyone else that wants him better keep their…" I hesitated for a moment before I clenched my jaw and told my reflection what I really wanted to say, "…they better keep their goddamned mitts off of MY Jacob!"
JPOVFriends, fucking friends! After all we went through last night, after all she said, all she did, she still thought of me as a fucking friend! I slammed another pan in the teeming sink adding more mess to the kitchen I'd wrecked. I didn't care.
All I could think about were her words ringing in my ears, "You proved what a wonderful friend you are to have taken care of me the way you did. I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend who has such discipline over himself."
Discipline over myself? Are you kidding me? Last night, I had come so close to phasing in front of half of the student body, my eyes had turned wolf. I'd wanted to rip Graves apart at the seams and I might have done it if the guys hadn't pulled me off the little creep.
God, if he had slipped a date rape drug in her drink, I would have torn out the prick's guts and gorged on them. And what I'd wanted to do with Bella last night, well, let's just say that the words "discipline" and "friend" did not quite cover it.
Shit, friends! I wasn't her fucking friend, I was her mate – for life - and she better start fucking getting used to it. Yeah, right. I groaned and buried my head in my hands. Fuck! I'd been so close. I thought for sure I'd clinched the deal and pulled Bella past the fucking friends stage with my plan last night.
Operation Amy had worked better than my wildest dreams. Bella had been crushed by the thought of me wanting someone else. Selfish little shit, I smiled. She'd gotten bombed out of her gourd and she hadn't been able to stay off of me. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I remembered that part of the evening's activities.
Lord knows I'd seen, with stomach churning detail, the rest of my pack's sex lives. My own fantasies were full of images of Bella and me. But the real thing – oh, my holy God, the real thing was so beyond anything I'd seen, heard, or imagined. No wonder it felt so amazing! The memory of her tight, wet– stop it, Jake!
Unless I wanted to walk around with the hard on from hell, I had to keep my mind off of my moments with Bella in the shower. I had other wonderful memories of the night that didn't cause near the amount of physical pain.
It had been the best and worst night of my life. After reading again all of the consequences of alcohol poisoning, I'd been too terrified to sleep; worried she might go into some sort of alcohol-induced convulsions or start vomiting in her sleep or something. I was also afraid she might attack me again if I fell asleep or, much more horrifying, I might attack her. I was pouring sweat, wearing a huge pile of my sweatshirts and sweatpants, breathing in frigid February night air…and it had still been the best night of my life.
I had held Bella all night long, warming her with my body. I'd listened to her sighing, her heavy breathing, and then the talking; as always, I'd been fascinated by each action.
Was she dreaming about me? Sleeping with her now was so different since our encounter in the shower. I wondered if she'd press herself into me, rub against me or touch me in any new way in her sleep. I watched her carefully, trying to see the slightest change in her actions; feeling thrilled when she said my name again and again and burrowed closer into my body.
Her groaning and moaning when she woke and then her total horror remembering her actions last night were so cute they made me want to hold her in my lap, hug and kiss her, and never let her go. That's how she made me feel and how did I make her feel? Like a fucking friend? Shit, shit, shit!
I don't know if I could have been more direct with her. I'd laid it all out on the line when I told her about how her "attack" on me made me feel.
"I love you, honey, everything about you. Nothing you can do is gross to me.. I don't care that you puked up your guts except that it hurt you. And what happened in the shower was my fault, Bells. You don't know how hard it was for me just to take off your dress and not attack you.
"I've dreamed of that shower scene or something like it for years, for years, Bella. And it exceeded every erotic fantasy I've ever had. Now, I am not going to let you beat yourself up about the greatest ten minutes I've had in my life.
"Honey, if you hadn't been drunk off your ass last night, we'd still be in that shower, going at it. Do you have any idea how fabulous you felt? I was thrilled that you got turned on by me. I had to scream at myself to make me turn on that cold water. I've never done anything more difficult or more painful in my life because I've never wanted anything as badly as I wanted you. I just told myself you would hate me in the morning if I let things continue."
She'd just lain there, crying into my neck, like she didn't hear a word I said. Fuck it all to hell and back! I braced my arms on the countertop and hung my head.
Okay, smart guy; what's your next move? I sighed heavily.
Suddenly, the fire alarms started screaming at me, bringing me back to the present with a start. I stared in disgust at my Bacon Surprise, which I'd completely neglected, as it went up in smoke. Shit! It had looked like a mutilated tumor before I'd let it burn to a crisp. Now it looked like a dead asteroid. Fuck!
I threw the mess in the sink, turned on the exhaust fans and opened the windows to let out the smoke and stink. Charlie's fucking stove hated me and the feeling was mutual. In ten minutes, I'd managed to cover the son of a bitch in bacon grease, egg shells and burnt on egg guts. Take that, fucker!
A few minutes later, as I was finishing her scrambled eggs, I heard Bella stumbling down the stairs and looked up. She was clean and neat, conservatively dressed after her night of debauchery. I snorted. No, darlin', I thought. You can put on all the buttoned up shirts and high-necked sweaters you want. Ain't gonna change what happened last night. Her cheeks were flaming and she wouldn't meet my eyes.
I acted as if it was a perfectly normal morning and tried to relax her. I yammered away as I served her breakfast, laughing as I tried to fish out the pieces of eggshell I'd accidentally gotten in her rubbery scrambled eggs. Meanwhile, I watched every move she made out of the corner of my eye. She seemed too humiliated to look at me.
I kept making small talk as she sat there like a blood-red rock. Regardless of why she was embarrassed, she was humiliated by last night's activities. Maybe I needed to give her a little space. We'd made a quantum leap in our relationship. Perhaps I needed to let my girl regain her footing before I pushed her again.
I could usually read her so easily but I couldn't figure her out this morning and she wasn't helping. What was going on in that brain of hers? My mind raced a mile a minute as I thought of all the different scenarios that could be going on in her head.
What if she was horrified she'd thrown herself all over me when she didn't really give a crap about me? Maybe she'd just been drunk and horny and I'd been the next guy in line. God, that thought made me want to puke.
If that's what she wanted or needed, count me out. I was not going to be some sort of short term lay for Bella. My goal was to have her for the rest of my life and after all we'd been through, I'd be damned if she'd use me for sex and then toss me aside. Since the shower scene, I didn't know where her head was.
I was going to let the situation settle for a few days. If Bella wanted me, she'd figure it out fast. If she loved me, it may take her a little longer. She just needed a little time to sort out all her feelings. Hell, I'd waited four years already. I could give her a few days more.
Our trip to Milan was coming up in ten days. Then we'd see. I looked at her downcast face and my jaw clenched. Ten more days, baby, that's about all the time you've got, I thought. Ten more days and then the shit is going to hit the fan - hard.
Chapter End NotesI had a really tough time with this chapter. Many of you know, I hate angsty, whiney Bella and I couldn't really get away from her so I struggled mightily writing this. Hope you all didn't hate it as much as I did during the 594 rewrites I wrote.
So I want to ask you all some questions:
Did anyone's reactions and actions surprise you? Did you expect this?
I've written in something fairly casually in this chapter that is a little surprising, I think. Anybody catch it or question it?
Why do some readers really hate Jacob? Any theories? Is anyone out there a former or current Jake hater? Could you share your thoughts? The only conclusion I've come to is that some people feel Jacob is too much of a threat to Bella's relationship to Edward. Even though I'm team Jake, I love both guys and don't understand the animosity some readers truly feel towards Jake. Anyone have any thoughts about this?
How do you all keep up with what's going on in the stories you follow if you don't write any story notes for yourselves? Do you all have photographic memories? I follow about 180 stories, some of which don't update for months. I always write a line about the plot in the comment section after each update but it's come to my attention, I'm the only person that does this. There is NO WAY I could remember what is going on with all of these stories if I didn't. How on earth do you do it? Are you geniuses or do you reread the whole story every time it updates?
Origin of the saying "The Hair of the Dog That Bit You":
Applied to drinks, it means, if overnight you have indulged too freely, take a glass of the same wine next morning to soothe the nerves. The origin of the phrase is literal, and comes from an erroneous method of treatment of a rabid dog bite by placing hair from the dog in the bite wound. Yikes! (Needless to say, this treatment was not real successful.)
Source(s): wikipedia