Author Notes:
Many thanks go to my wonderful beta team headed by mybrandofheroin, the patient and knowledgeable one, from Team SOB, love and hugs, GB! And to diamondheart of The Bella and Jacob Chronicles, you are so dear and helpful to me, Snookie Ugums! Thanks for letting me waste so much of your time. To bloodofbeckie of Team SOB, thank you for your constant support and encouragement, BB.
Shameless Pimping Section
Check out these tiny little gems. They take just a few minutes to read, and also link to these authors' fabulous multi-chapter fics while you're there."The Color of Rain" by chef diamond heart "The Neighbor: Anytime, Anyplace" by artbeatsandlife "Swan Dive" by BellaFlan "Written in Tiles" by aowalison, "Onside Kick" by wordslinger
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As always, Stephenie Meyer owns all. I own a house I can't sell. Wanna buy it?
Chapter 6 "I'm Not Dear F*cking Abby"
BPOV
Later that afternoon, I faced Leah Clearwater in her bedroom. I couldn't believe I was actually going to spill my guts about the last twenty-four hours to another living soul, but I was an ignoramus when it came to sexual allure and neither Dear Abby nor Emily Post was going to do the job. I needed some expert help here and while I had been treading water for the last few years, Leah had taken charge of her life. She had moved on past Sam…way on.
Gone was the bitter, hate filled wolf girl. In her place was a tough as nails, acerbic, and sophisticated woman who controlled men with all of the finesse of a symphony conductor directing an orchestra. She delicately curled her fingers and they ran to do her bidding. Eventually, she'd taken me under her wing; I adored her and loved watching her work her magic.
"Of course I can keep my thoughts private, Bella. I've told you that over and over. What is it?"
"Leah, I swear to God, if the other pack members find out about this, I'll tell Jake to think about the time Eric Yorkie found your panties in the men's room at-"
"Bella! I told you, no one will find out! Now give!"
I hung my head and peeked up at her out of the corner of my eyes. "Jake wants Amy Nichols," I whispered.
"What? What?!" she screeched. My head throbbed in pain. "That's total bullshit, Bella! That boy's so tied up over you he can barely move."
"Well, maybe before, but I'm telling you, Leah, he's going to move on unless I do something quick."
"I don't believe it for a second. …What have you got in mind?"
"I want to learn how to seduce him," I mumbled quietly, my face flaming.
"We are talking about Jake here, right? Jesus, Bella, just walk into his room and drop trou. Believe me, that's all you'll have to do."
"What do you mean, believe you? How would you know? Have you 'dropped trou' in Jacob's room?" I couldn't help my feelings of jealousy. Once I'd opened that Pandora's box last night, I was having trouble getting the lid back on.
"WHAT?!" Her shriek ricocheted around my brainpan as I grabbed my aching head. "Are you nuts? I know because I can live inside his tiny mind and see for myself exactly what he'd like to do to you. Jesus Christ, Bella! Give me a break. He's had the whole pack in a constant state of blue balls over you for years. His level of sexual frustration is just about to drive all of us over a cliff. Please, for God's sake, just fuck him and let the rest of us get some relief!"
Mortified but determined, I blundered on, "Leah, I'm not joking. He was practically drooling into that whore's cleavage!" I sighed and closed my eyes. "She's not really a whore. She's actually very nice. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let her take him away from me. I have to do something and it better be drastic! I've been such a freaking idiot!" I fell back on her pillows in disgust.
"Spill girlfriend. What did you do?" Leah eyed me with unvarnished curiosity.
"Oh my God, Leah, what didn't I do!" I moaned, thinking of the multiple humiliating events of the night. I couldn't begin to figure out which one topped the list. Well, yes, I could.
"Well, first of all, I'm standing there, bored out of my mind, talking to Quil at that horrible dance," I started.
"He was blathering about Claire," she supplemented.
"Of course. Anyway, I looked over at Jacob, who'd dumped me as soon as we got there, and he was …well, panting into Amy Nichols' bra. I kid you not, Leah! I thought he was going to dive in there, hands and all, right in the middle of the gymnasium!" Luckily, Leah looked as appalled as I felt.
"What the fuck was that all about?" she breathed.
"Beats the heck out of me. I could have killed him. Except I realized it's not his fault, Leah." Sitting up, I looked at her pitifully. "I'm the one that drove him away. Of course he's going to look elsewhere."
I'd held up pretty well so far, but tears started leaking out at this point. "But oh, Leah, I'm just going to die if he does!" Sobs started shaking my shoulders and Leah's hot, hard arms folded around me. She hugged me to her and shushed me as she stroked my back.
Wiping my eyes, I straightened up to look up at her. "I'm crazy about him, Leah. I have been for ages. I was just too flipping stupid to realize I fell in love with him years ago."
"Just figured that out last night, huh?" she smiled sympathetically as I flopped back on her bed.
"Yeah, so I made a bigger dope out of myself by getting wasted."
She looked horrified. "You didn't get into the rez moonshine, did you?"
"Oh yes, I did, and ended up dancing, if you can believe it. I danced with Embry and that horrible little weasel, Rick Graves."
"You are kidding. Christ, what on earth were you thinking, Bella?"
"Thinking? Crap, that's the last thing I was doing! I was just so crushed seeing Jacob and that – that girl," I ground out fiercely. "I wasn't thinking. I was just drinking."
"So what did Jacob do?"
"I d--don't remember all that well," I admitted miserably. "He seemed pretty ticked off, so he dragged me away and started fussing at me and then I cried 'cause he was mad at me and then he felt bad that he yelled at me, so then I started drooling all over him." I could feel my cheeks flaming as I completed this remarkable recital of events.
"What? What the hell does that mean? What kind of drooling were you doing?"
"Well, it started off pretty harmlessly, I guess. But then, in the shower, I-"
"Hold on here. What did you say, 'in the shower'?! How did you get from the dance to the shower? Whose shower?"
"Well, I don't really remember that part too well, either. Jake took me home and I puked all over myself and he had to put me in the shower." I put my hands over my face and closed my eyes as I relived that particular humiliation.
"'He had to put you in the shower'? What'd he do, throw you in there, clothes and all, to deal with it on your own after you just barfed all over yourself?" Leah looked pissed. I snapped my eyes open.
"No, of course not, Leah! Gosh, he was wonderful. He carried me in and started washing all that crap off me… and - and I attacked him, Leah, like I was a cannibal and he was a piece of raw meat or something!" I let it all out in a rush.
"What do you mean, you attacked him?"
"What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean I freaking attacked him! And I'm NOT going to go into the gory details! Just believe me, I attacked him and leave it at that!" Too ashamed to look her in the eye, I pulled a pillow over my face so I didn't have to see her expression. She was eerily quiet. Finally, I gathered enough nerve to meet her amazed stare.
"So then what happened?"
I inhaled and tried to race through it. "He doused me with ice cold water to get me off of him and then dressed me in layers of flannel armor so I wouldn't attack him again." As long as I lived, there could never be another day that was more humiliating than this one. I could feel the blistering temperature of my skin; my face was so hot with embarrassment.
Leah looked stunned. "Humph. Well, that doesn't sound like Jake." I sat bolt upright.
"What do you mean, it doesn't sound like him?! What did you think he'd do, take advantage of me when I was drunk? He was only the kindest, sweetest, most considerate-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sorry to impugn Golden Boy's honor. Christ, what a mess! Boy, when you let go, you really let go, don't you?" I groaned in humiliation. "Okay, I get it. So, what's next, Mata Hari? What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to make me seductive," I whispered into my lap.
"Well, damn, if you can't even say it, how do you expect me to do it?" she questioned me intently.
I looked full in her face and clenched my jaw. "I want you to teach me how to seduce Jake," I snarled at her through my gritted teeth.
"Now, that's better. Hmmm, make you seductive," she stared at me speculatively. "Well, what are we talking here, going to a bar in something other than those horrible Converse things? Or a one hundred percent, head to foot, no questions asked, no bitching and complaining makeover?"
"The whole nine yards, Leah," I sighed heavily. "I'll do anything. I swear, no griping, no questioning. I don't want it just to be on the surface. I want to change down to the core. I want him so crazy in love and in lust with me, he doesn't see any other girl."
"Well believe me, he's already there, but I'll take any opportunity to get you out of those homeless person rags you normally schlepp around in and into some decent clothes for once," she sniped, but her eyes gleamed with excitement.
Leah had wanted to shape up my act for years and she started in with gusto. "Hmmm, well, the first thing you need to do is to get any idea of romance out of your head. This is a seduction, not some nambly-assed falling in love shit. Guys hate that crap. They may do it, but they really get tired of us whining about it all the time.
"You worry about fucking his eyes out and you won't have a problem with the love part. Besides, the boy's totally in love with you anyway." My eyes rolled at this delusion.
"But you're right," she continued. "You have absolutely no time to waste. I can't believe the moron has waited four years for your dumb ass anyway." I had to agree with her brutal assessment.
"Rule number one - be confident. A bashful, inexperienced pansy is NOT seductive," she asserted.
That was a first in the list of thousands of Leah's Rules for Seduction. She had so many of them, they started going around and around in my head. Confidence, eye contact, body contact, the list went on and on and ranged from the simplest look to the most graphic description of intimate acts and how best to perform them.
During some of the more explicit sessions, in which Leah incorporated visual aids and props, it felt like my red-hot skin might actually singe my hair off. But I didn't know this stuff and somebody needed to tell me so I didn't look like a total doofus when I tried it out. My normal shy, gauche clumsiness wasn't acceptable any more. I was determined to make Jacob see me differently and finally realize that he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
She made me write all of her rules down and drilled me on an hourly basis. We hit a few bumps in the road along the way and a huge blockade when she came over to evaluate my closet.
"Holy crap, Bella, this is a complete disaster!" was her unvarnished assessment. Leah did not believe in pulling any punches.
"What's the matter?" I was perplexed. I had some very nice clothes I'd compiled over the years.
"Well, you've got a few good things the clients have given to you out of pity," she started.
I snorted my disagreement.
"I've got beautiful work clothes," I pointed out, defensively.
"Yeah, as I said, you've got a few acceptable things here," she pulled out a gorgeous black jacket and matching pencil slim skirt. "Who gave you this? Sucia Dawn?" She peered at the label.
"Mmmm hmmm," I mumbled. So what if most of my good things were model cast offs? They worked perfectly fine and looked great on the job.
"Well, first off, you can only do so much with office wear, you know. Well, actually, I can make it look absolutely fantastic, but I'll bet a dollar to a donut, you put on those god-awful ballet slippers or those dorky librarian flats when you wear this fabulous suit, don't you?"
"What's the matter with my ballet slippers? They're cute and they feel great."
"They are not cute unless you are four fucking years old or maybe, I don't know, say, an actual ballet dancer. They, along with those horrible high-topped tennis shoes of yours, are going in the dumpster or in the incinerator. I wouldn't put it past you to wear those damned things with a short cocktail dress or something else totally inappropriate." She ignored my shrieks of horror, envisioning my beloved Chucks' demise.
"I would not, Leah!" I protested. "You know I have some fashion sense. Nobody would be that stupid!"
"I'm telling you, Bella, the sexiest thing in the world you can do for yourself is to put on a pair of four inch fuck-me heels and continue wearing them while you strip off your clothes, whether you're dressed for a funeral or the sleaziest bar in town." Picturing it, I couldn't help the blood that flooded to my cheeks.
"How many times do I have to tell you, girlfriend? Blushing is not sexy. Men want a woman with some experience, not a blushing virgin." My color increased by geometrical proportions at this statement.
"A little too late to keep him from knowing about that," I mumbled into my clothes rack, remembering the sore flesh between my legs.
I received a speculative look for that comment. Darned wolf hearing! "I don't even want to know, Bella. Christ," she shook her gorgeous head as if she couldn't believe the Herculean task she'd undertaken and stared with disdain at my closet floor.
"You walk around naked with only a pair of stilettos on and, believe me, Jake will melt into the floor. But you'll look like a total dweeb if you continue wearing these fucking Wal-Mart cashier shoes. Nothing worse than ruining a fuck-me outfit with sensible shoes." She glared at the entire collection of practical, flat shoes lining the floor of my closet with fire in her eyes. "Jesus, Bella, your shoes have all the sex appeal of Mother Theresa's orthopedic lace-ups."
"I wore these rhinestone sandals to the dance." I held them up, defending myself. "And this Elie Saab dress!" I shoved my beautiful red dress under her nose.
She cocked an eyebrow. "Nice. Who gave you this? Yari?" I nodded.
"Well, he's already seen that. You can't wear it again for ages." I groaned. "Face it, Bella, we've got to do a total overhaul here from the foundation up. And all of these sweats and this baggy shit are going right out with the Chuck high tops." She callously ignored my pitiful cries.
"Thank Christ the models made you learn how to walk in heels or you'd really be screwed. Now you have to learn how to dance in them. Well, at least you took my advice and started taking kickboxing. That should help you with your balance when you learn to dance, without the Chucks." She shoved all of my sputtering and gasping aside with a single eye roll and pursed lips.
"You asked me, sweet pea," she snapped. "You want to learn to seduce Jake, take my advice. Wanna see him make babies with that Nichols chick, keep your fucking high tops." That effectively shut me up as she led me to another round of torture.
Leah decided my case was too desperate to stay in Forks. She packed us up and off we drove to Seattle for the week. With the Milan trip coming up, there was plenty of work for us to do there, and an unending number of shops for Leah to drag me through.
She had me in high heels the entire trip. Even I had to admit, not only was I getting better at staying upright, but soon it was possible for me to walk with confidence and even a little flair. If only I'd known what that evil vixen had planned for me next.
The day had certainly begun with a bang. Having a vaginal/rectal exam, discussing my semi-virginal condition and boyfriend-less state and receiving my first birth control shot were not high on my list of great ways to start the day.
Leah was absolutely relentless. She had flustered me at the gynecologist during my awkward examination and consultation, totally embarrassed me at Le Bourget hosiery, making me get stockings I was positive I'd never have the nerve to wear, and outraged me at Lise Charmel, having been bullied into spending $130.00 for a pair of panties.
"I don't care if they make my behind smell like roses, Leah, no pair of panties is worth a hundred and thirty freaking dollars!" I railed at her.
"These are, believe me." She smiled. "Just don't let Jake tear them off of you."
I tried not to let my imagination run in that direction as Jake seemed to be more determined to stuff me into clothes rather than rip them off of me. "Regardless, I can't afford them," I groused.
"That's total bullshit! We both make an excellent salary and you know it," Leah snapped. "Quit being a cheapskate and live a little, Bella. That's your whole problem anyway. You can afford a pair of extravagant fucking panties once in a while, for Christ's sake. Besides, look at all the stuff they gave you. It was the least you could do." Well, I had to agree with her there.
We hit up all of our clients and female model friends for runway and display items. There was no way I could afford the astronomical couture clothing prices, but used items were donated or sold to us at a tiny fraction of their original costs. I could fit into display-sized shoes and Leah and I went crazy looking at the exquisite creations from which our benefactors allowed us to pick.
Leah had been guiding me along, listening to my chatter and finally opened the door to a small brick building and herded me inside. She ignored my questions as she led me upstairs and opened an unmarked door.
I stumbled in behind and looked around curiously. As my eyes darted about, it began to dawn on me exactly where we were and what actually took place in this plain room. I gasped in horror as a sickening feeling formed in my stomach.
Oh. My. Holy. God. Leah had brought me to a freaking pole dancing class!
Slim poles, running from the ceiling to the floor and anchored securely in place, filled the room. At each pole stood a woman of a varying age, dressed in tight-fitting leotards and high-heeled shoes. I felt my eyes bugging out of my sockets. My voice no longer worked and the only sounds I was able to emit were horrible choking croaks. I stared at Leah in sheer terror.
"You must be Bella!" a warmly attractive thirty-something woman came up and took my arm. "Leah said you'd be joining us but that you might want to only observe at first." She dragged me over to a couple of waiting chairs as I stared at her in stunned silence.
Leah walked behind me, prodding me into one of the seats as she crowded her chair next to mine, trapping me in the corner so I couldn't escape.
"I've arranged for a private lesson for you right after this class, Bella, but you need to watch and absorb," Leah whispered intently into my ear. Well, I didn't know if she'd given me a reprieve or led me straight to the guillotine. Jesus, Lord, please help me, I prayed frantically. For the next hour, I watched in fascinated horror (or maybe it was just plain horror) as the eight women in class gyrated about their poles in various states of sexual frenzy.
"Leah, you don't honestly expect I would ever attempt something remotely like this in front of witnesses, much less Jacob, do you? He would laugh himself into convulsions if he ever saw me try anything resembling this! I can't think of anything worth this total humiliation!" I hissed at her furiously.
"Well, just keep thinking of a pregnant Amy Nichols Black with Jacob standing behind her, rubbing her belly. I bet she'd come to a stupid pole dancing class," she slung back at me.
I closed my eyes and shuddered at that horrific image. I told myself I'd do anything for Jacob. I'd subject myself to any humiliation and I was going to prove it this very hour. I was right; the entire episode was a nightmare of unparalleled proportions. At least I was able to suffer through with few witnesses.
Erin, my instructor, and Leah hovered over me like I was an infant taking her first steps. Many times, I knew an infant would be infinitely more coordinated than I as I flapped and flailed about. Erin taught me some basic moves around the hated pole that I mentally cursed as I fell and tripped and fell again, constantly foiled by the diabolical high-heeled shoes. How seductive was that?
Erin made it look so simple as she slithered about in smooth, fluid movements, but it was impossible for me and I felt myself becoming more and more frustrated at my body's total lack of coordination. With the double whammy of dancing and wearing heels, the task of trying to release my inner sex goddess was hopeless especially since I suspected she'd pulled a groin muscle.
After forty minutes of complete humiliation, Erin stopped her instructions and sat next to me on my mat. As uncomfortable as this was, I felt an instant connection with Erin. She had heard it all before and I had no trouble telling her about Jacob. I knew I needed all the expert advice I could get to help me overcome the awkwardness I had with my own body.
"Bella, did you ever see True Lies with Jamie Lee Curtis and Arnold Schwarzenegger?" she asked.
"Uh, maybe," I was too shaken to remember something as trivial as a movie at this lowly moment.
"Well, if you'll remember, she was a stogy housewife that got mixed up in international spying and she had to do a pole dance for a master spy."
I laughed and relaxed a little. "Yeah, I do remember that. Right in the middle of her dance, she took a header right off the bedpost and fell flat on her face. Remind you of anybody?" I had to smile.
"Actually, what I remember is that a woman who was not in touch with her sexuality learned to reach within herself, to feel herself and to realize she was a powerful, sensual being. It's what we all have within us, Bella. We just need to be willing to reach inward and grab it. Now, do you remember how she did it?" I shook my head. Erin reached over and switched on some slow, throbbing, sensual music.
"Well, she closed her eyes and relaxed and then she started feeling the skin of her body. She let the beat of the music flow over her and she let it take over her body's movement. Why don't you try it?" she asked quietly.
"Don't think about the dance moves. Just think about your body and think about Jacob." She went over and dimmed the lights. She and Leah gave me some space as they stood by the mirror and closed their eyes, shifting to the intoxicating music.
Closing my eyes, too, I let the powerful music thrum inside of me. They had dressed me in some clingy gym shorts and a sports bra so I let my hands travel over my exposed body. My skin did feel smooth and nice.
The image of Jacob's beautiful skin filled my mind and I imagined moving my fingers all over it, smelling and licking the warm copper silk. When we had been in the shower, I remembered how erotic his dark hands had looked sliding over my body and how desperately I'd wanted them to cup my aching breasts and rub my nipples. It had felt soooo good when he'd stroked his huge fingers down my stomach and traced the skin of my legs. I cracked open my heavy eyes and looked at myself in the mirror.
I could see the lust flowing from my eyes as I imagined Jacob seeing me like this, running my hands all over my body. I leaned into the pole and arched my back, rubbing my bottom against the rod, replaying the feel of Jacob's huge erection nestled behind me in the shower.
Thinking of him, I closed my eyes, straightened my legs hip width apart and leaned forward, imagining bucking into him, exposing my behind, knowing he would grab my hips and grind me to his heat. My hair fell to the floor and I dragged my hands up one leg, feeling my silky hair sweep my skin as I stood back up, touching my body, thinking of those hot, coppery fingers feeling every inch of me.
He'd stared at my breasts like he'd wanted to eat them, I remembered. I touched them myself, wishing he were suckling them and I had his silky head clasped to my chest, running my fingers through his hair. I slipped around the pole, pretending he was in front of me. I slid my hands up its length and wrapped myself around it, slowly sliding my leg down, like I was sliding down his naked body.
I was vaguely aware that Erin and Leah had been watching me for some time, but my Jacob fantasy had me too caught up to care. As the music wound down, I lifted my eyes fully and stared into their shocked faces.
"What?" I asked apprehensively.
"What the hell brought that on?" Leah asked, stunned.
"I was just thinking of Jacob, Leah. What, did I look like a spastic again?" I asked worriedly.
"No, honey, you looked fantastic!" Erin breathed. "Everything you did was totally sensual. If this were a club, every man in the audience would have – God - jizzed in his pants and slipped a Franklin in your g-string or something when they saw that performance. You do that for your Jacob and you'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand." I turned to Leah for her reaction.
"Holy fuck, Bella, you turned me on and girls do not do it for me. Jake will blow sky high if you ever pull that off. You have to put that in your arsenal, Bella, I'm not kidding. Girl, that made my temperature rise even higher. Whew!" she fanned herself furiously.
I stared at myself in the mirror. Note to self, I thought determinedly. If I want to seduce Jacob, all I have to do is close my eyes and think of Jacob. Well, that should be easy enough. It's all I ever do anyway.
JPOV
I stared at Sam who looked just as miserable and uncomfortable as I did.
"Well, what do I look like, Dear Fucking Abby? I don't know any more about this shit than you do, Jake!" he groused at me.
"I've got to talk to somebody, Sam. I'm losing my mind here." I told him desperately. "Who else am I going to talk to?"
"What about Embry?" he started. When he saw my look of appalled horror, he added, "Yeah, right, forget Embry and Quil. Everybody would know every intimate moment you've ever had." Besides being the biggest gossips on the reservation, the two of them were clueless when it came to keeping the rest of us out of their thoughts. Telling Embry and Quil a secret was like printing it in the National Enquirer and then displaying it in every Loaf 'N Jug between Forks and Walla Walla.
"What about Seth?" Sam was casting about, desperately trying to pawn me off on somebody else.
I rolled my eyes. "Well, besides the fact that Seth knows as much about women as Charlie knows about dancing the Cha-cha, Seth is practically a member of the family. It'd be like talking about it with her brother." I thought for a moment. "Or it should be," I added grumpily. I knew Seth adored Bella from afar and was much too shy to act on any of his feelings for her especially since Sue and Charlie were almost joined at the hip. Didn't mean I liked listening to his fantasies whenever one snuck out when we were phased.
"Can't you talk to your dad about this, Jake?" I glared at him, not bothering to reply to that stupid ass suggestion.
"What about Emily?" Sam was reaching the dregs of the bottle, pushing me off on his wife.
"Jesus Christ, Sam," I snapped. "I'm not asking you to divulge sacred tribal rites here. I just want to ask your advice about Bella, damn it. Do you have to embarrass me in front of Emily? Can't the two of us talk, guy to guy? I mean you are in a committed relationship with somebody of the opposite sex, aren't you? This can't all be foreign territory to you."
God, I had to be desperate, coming to Sam for advice on my love life. He was just about as communicative as a Dungeness crab and his advice would probably be worse.
We glared at each other silently. Sam looked like he was about to be keelhauled. I think he would have preferred it to having the discussion that was about to start. I took a deep breath.
"So last night, Bella and I went to the Valentine's Dance and she saw me with someone and got loaded," I determinedly plowed ahead.
"Yeah, I went on patrol with Embry this afternoon so I saw the whole thing. What are you doing with that Nichols chick? Are you screwing around with her for practice or something?" Sam's face showed his contempt.
"What? No! Jesus, Sam, you know me better than that," I was stunned Sam would think I would use anyone like that.
"Well, I saw your face practically smashed between her boobs, Jacob. What the hell are you doing if you're not going after her?"
"Damn, Sam, didn't Embry fill you in? He obviously let you see every other aspect of the night. I was trying to make Bella jealous. And I did not have my face 'smashed between her boobs', for your information. I was looking at her frigging engagement ring." This advice idea was turning out to be better and better by the minute.
"Looked to me and everybody else like you were trying to cop a feel or something," Sam threw back at me.
"Christ, man, I'm touched by the high regard you hold for me. I wasn't trying to cop a feel and Amy Nichols didn't think I was trying to cop a feel, alright?" I shook my head pissed he would think I was such a slime ball.
Sam and I were very close since we had switched roles on my eighteenth birthday. He had seemed as relieved to dump the alpha duties as I was eager to assume them. He was a great beta to me and I leaned on him heavily. This was our first foray into the field of advice for the lovelorn, however, and it wasn't starting well.
"So did Bella think you were trying to cop a feel?" he wondered.
"Shit, Sam, we're not in seventh grade. Would you get off the 'cop a feel' thing?" I snapped. I did not want to be reminded of Amy Freaking Nichol's tits again.
"Bella thought I was interested in Amy and she got hammered. And then-"
"I just can't believe Bella got drunk, not Bella," he interrupted passionately. "Hell, I don't know that I've ever seen her drink. And to think she got into that rez moonshine. Jeeeesus," he shook his head in disbelief.
"Man, you would not believe, Sam-" I stopped myself. The fewer details the pack knew of my little drunken sot, the better. I wasn't going to share a word about our precious time at Bella's house. Seeing her, smelling her, being in her, knowing that I was the first man to do so was the biggest turn on of my almost twenty-one years, and it was reserved for Bella, me, and my private fantasies alone. I'd learned how to control my thoughts around the pack and I'd be damned if they were going to get one glance at that incredible interlude.
"Uhmm, yeah, she was really wasted but that's kind of what my question's about, Sam," I took a deep breath and forged ahead.
"What I'm trying to figure out is when she was drunk, how much of what she said and did she really meant. I mean, has Emily really tied one on and then acted completely out of character?" Maybe he'd get off Amy Nichols tits and Bella's drunken antics if I focused him on Emily. I saw color creep up in his cheeks and knew I had hit pay dirt.
"Well, not that Emily drinks or anything," he started out slowly, "but if she ever does she's extremely uh…well, eh…" his color was deepening, "uh, well… erm, loving I guess you'd say." His eyes dropped from mine and he seemed fascinated by a thread in the seam of his jeans.
I hid a smirk. I'll just bet she was. "Well, that's the thing, Sam. Bella was very uh, er, loving too, I guess you'd call it," my turn for color to flood my face, "but I just wanted to figure out if any of it was real or if she was just so soused, she would have acted like that with anybody."
"Well, you know, 'In vino veritas. In wine there is truth.' Did she act that way with somebody else or just with you?" It was a question I'd been dreading.
"Well what did Embry think? She told me she was pretending Embry and that Graves fuck were me. She danced with them, which is a big thing for her. You know she'd rather be staked and eaten by ants than dance, Sam. I guess she didn't do anything too awful with them. They put their hands on her, though, and she let them grope all over her."
"Aw, that's nothing, Jake. Hell, Emily let – uh, well, let's just say, if she's an affectionate drunk, more than likely she won't push people away from her. That fits what she was doing with Embry. She never seemed to look at him or talk to him. How'd she act with you? Did she look at you when she was acting, uh, affectionate? I mean did she know it was you she was uh, eh, talking to or whatever?"
More color flooded my cheeks. Shit, he was going to start calling me Bella if I didn't quit blushing. What was incredibly sexy on her was ridiculous on me.
"Uh, yeah, Sam, she knew it was me and um, she looked at me really closely." Christ, we looked and sounded like fucktarded idiots; blushing and stammering like a couple of twelve-year-old girls.
"Well, I'd say she probably meant it, but what the hell do I know, Jake?" Real fucking helpful. Jesus, maybe I should go talk to Emily.
"Crap, I don't think you know a damned thing, Sam. Try to remember you're a married man and help me out here, okay? I think I'm finally making some real progress with Bella and I need to know how to move to the next step."
"Well, praise the Lord and thank Christ!" he uttered with more devout reverence than I'd ever heard from him before. "Please, please, justnail her as soon as possible and put the rest of us out of our damned misery, Jake! Jesus, it's been four fucking miserable years of having to put up with your horny ass and I seriously don't think we can take it much longer.
"And as for the kids, my God, what you have been putting them through! I mean, bad enough going through puberty, but these poor kids; becoming a wolf and having to listen to fifteen other voices in your head all of the time, one of which is so sexually frustrated he makes me go nuts, I don't know how the poor kids keep it in their pants with you around."
I sat there, stunned, my mouth gaping as I listened to this scorching speech. "Thanks, Sam. That makes me feel just great. You acted disgusted a minute ago that I might be screwing around with Amy Nichols, but you obviously can't wait until I get laid. Go one way or the other, buddy."
"Jacob, you are a great guy and a wonderful alpha. I consider you my closest brother and you're the best young man I know. But some days, I want to take you to The Pink Pussy Cat and pay for an all day session for you if I have to put up with your goddamned blue balls for another minute.
"I admire you for being true to Bella, I really do. But it ain't easy on the rest of us either, dude, believe me! You may keep us out of your thoughts and memories, Jake, but we are all too familiar with your emotions as well as your cravings and urges."
Well, that was terrific, just what I needed to hear. "Okay, instead of bitching at me, how about helping me so neither of us has to put up with my horny ass anymore?" I groused.
"Fine. I'll do anything. Lay it out," he agreed eagerly. Jesus, just how much more embarrassing could this get?
"So, like I was saying, I think I'm making some real progress with Bella. I think she's looking at me as something other than good old Jake for once, at her beck and call at every second of the day and night, and I'm thinking that maybe she wants me. Physically. You know." More blushing ensued. God, I did feel like Bella.
Sam was silent for a while and then groaned and shook his head disgustedly. "Well, as much as I'd love for you to get laid in the next thirty minutes and as much as I absolutely hate to say this, I have to; I don't think you should push Bella into a physical relationship right away. You know, Jake, she really is an innocent, after all. Other than what she did with the bloodsucker, she's never-"
"Nothing!" I snarled at him. "She did practically nothing with that asshole! I know he barely touched her." I shouldn't have spilled any of Bella's secrets but I couldn't stand the thought of anyone thinking that corpse had touched her, hell that anyone had touched her other than me. Shit, I was pissed Embry even danced with her.
"Damn, don't take my head off," he snapped back. "That's even more reason why you shouldn't push it too fast. She's an innocent girl, Jake. You need to romance her first, I think, before you rush into her pants." I gave Sam a furious look. I knew what he meant, I knew he didn't want to, but it still bugged me to hear another guy talk about getting into Bella's pants.
"I wasn't going to attack her the next time I see her, Sam. Give me some credit."
"Yeah, but that's what you'd like to do. And I really think you ought to take it slow."
"I love her, Sam, with every part of me. Sure, I want her but that's not the most important thing here. I can go slowly if I need to. Hell, I've waited for four fucking years already. The big thing is for her to realize she loves me. And I mean really loves me."
" Jake, she tells you all the time. I've heard her tell you she loves you a thousand times."
"Yeah, she says it like I'm her pet dog or something, man. I want her in love with me, Sam. I want her as crazy about me as I am about her. Big difference." I stared at my feet not wanting to meet his eyes.
"Hmmm, go with the romance thing, Jake. Girls love that shit. You know, flowers, cards, candy--the whole nine yards." I rolled my eyes. Yeah, those were some real winning ideas. I could just see myself at Charlie's front door with a bunch of wilted posies and a heart shaped box of chocolate. I was sure that would be a huge fucking hit. Charlie would laugh his ass off if nothing else.
"Well, you know what she likes, bro. You gotta think of something special. You know, something that will be meaningful to her and just between the two of you. Take her someplace she'd love or make her a card. I'm telling you, man, she'll fall for it hook, line and sinker."
" 'Make her a card'? Are you fucking kidding me? What, do you want me to join the six year olds in Aunt Rosie's Arts and Crafts class at the Tribal School? I don't think my hands are gonna quite fit in the kiddie scissors they provide. Jesus, Sam!"
"I'm telling ya, that shit works. You can roll your eyes all you want, Jake, but I got mygirl. I'm just letting you know what worked for me."
I saw the way to get a little payback from Sam. He'd irritated, embarrassed and frustrated me enough for one day. "So what did you do for Emily? What was really meaningful to her?" Color flooded his face.
"Er, well, uh, nothing really. Just the usual stuff, you know." Nuh uh, he wasn't getting out of it that easy.
"Come on, man, tell me. I need all the input I can get." I hoped that he'd fall for my seemingly innocent and sincere act.
He looked furtively around as if somebody might be spying on us. "I swear to God, Black, if this ever gets out…"
"Jeeze, Sam, you know me better than that. You're the one telling me to do this shit, after all."
His shoulders slumped in humiliation. I mentally rubbed my hands in glee. This was going to be good. "Uh, well, umm, er, ya see," he stared doggedly at his shuffling feet, "Em likes it when I sing," he mumbled at the ground.
"What was that, Sam? You weren't too clear. What'd you say?" Oh, this was too rich for words.
"I said, Emily likes me to sing to her," he barked out; face red and still unable to meet my eyes.
"Say, that's a good idea. Like what did she want to hear? Love songs or what?" I didn't know how long I was going to be able to keep this up before I split my sides laughing at the poor dolt.
"Yeah, she likes old love songs."
"Well, like what, Sam? Give me some titles. I might be able to use this on Bella." Deep sincerity rang from my voice as I thought about my dad alternately begging me and ordering me to shut the hell up whenever I tried singing in the shower. My singing voice caused dogs to howl -- literally. Sam's face was now beet red.
I wasn't missing this for the world.
"Er, let me think. Uh, I think she liked 'Faithfully' by Journey and 'I Will Always Love You', you know, that version Whitney Houston did and uh, 'You Light Up My Life' by Debbie Boone."
I was holding it together by the tiniest of threads. "Oh, yeah? I think I heard Bella say something about Whitney Houston. How does that one go?" God, if I could get him to actually sing the cheesy thing and not cry with laughter, it would be a miracle. Sam's voice sucked worse than mine did.
He actually fell for it. He cleared his throat nervously, his eyes darting around, and started in, his brusque voice quavering:
"If I
Should stay
I would only be in your way
So I'll go
But I know
I'll think of you every step of
the way
And I...
Will always
Love you, oohh
Will always
Love you
You
My darling you
Mmm-mm"
My shoulders were shaking so badly and I was silently laughing so hard, I couldn't breathe. Tears poured down my face as I clutched my stomach in agony. I thought I was going to wet myself.
"You ASSHOLE!" was all I heard before Sam launched himself at me and started pounding me in the stomach. I couldn't defend myself because I was howling with laughter.
"Come on Sam," I managed to choke out. "I gotta hear you do 'You Light Up My Life' just once! I know Bella would love that one!" The slugging in my sides didn't let up. I couldn't remember when I'd laughed so hard in my life. I was going to throw this one in his face for as long as he lived. I'd never heard anything as silly as Sam warbling that sappy, dumb ass song.
As I fought back against the punches, trying to keep Sam from killing me, I realized this was just what I deserved, asking Sam 'I Can Barely Speak' Uley for advice on my love life; flowers, cards, candy and singing the most horrible songs ever written by man or woman. Crap, I should have asked Dear Fucking Abby.
Chapter End Notes:
Wonderful reader/reviewers named in this chapter are Erin, the pole dancing instructor, inspired by Erin Brennan and Erin Ludwig and the generous models that gave Bella beautiful, free clothes were inspired by Sucia Dawn and Yari. Thanks so much, ladies, for taking time out to review and support me! Hope you don't mind my stealing your great names. It was really fun to put you into the story!
I've always had a love/hate relationship with Leah. I loved her fierce independence and take no shit attitude and hated her bitterness and constant carping. What do you think of her now?
So was Leah and Sam's advice good or did it suck?
Anybody have any ideas as to what's going to happen in Italy? They are going to be there for a couple of weeks so several things could happen, you know.
My apologies to Journey, Whitney Houston, Dolly Parton and Debbie Boone. Sam's love songs were not my choices but Emily's and "The Cheesiest Love Song Play List" assembled by The Y, Music Play list Blog by Robert of the Radish.
The Arts, Crafts and Games Collaboration Station representative for the Quileute Tribal School at La Push, Washington is Ms. Rosalie Black. She teaches basket weaving, drumming, dancing, singing and card making. Really.
Mata Hari – a Dutch exotic dancer, convicted of spying for Germany in WWI. During the war, she was a courtesan to many high-ranking military officers and politicians on both sides of the conflict and earlier to the Crown Prince of Germany. She was accused of causing the death of 50,000 allied soldiers and was executed by a French firing squad in 1918. She was not known as a classic beauty but more for her sensuality and eroticism.
See her at admiraltwin(dot)com(backslash)matahari(dot)html or heniford(dot)net/1234/1m1f mhs(dot)htm and read more about her at
Scandalouswoman(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2008/10/truth-about-mata-hari-part-ii(dot)html
To be keelhauled: Keel haul - A grisly death indeed. Keelhauling was a brutal punishment inflicted on seamen guilty of mutiny or some other high crime in the "good old days" of sail. It practically amounted to a death sentence, for the chances of recovery after the ordeal were slight.
The seaman is tied by a rope at the front of the ship at full sail. He is then kicked off and made to drag along the keel, or bottom spine of the ship, hauled along the sharp, barnacle-encrusted bottom, which would act as a cheese grater, and then hoisted up and onto the deck on the port side. If the barnacles didn't kill him by cutting him to pieces, the victim would be severly mutilated but many drowned during the process.
Ref: Wiki how Ref: Naval History & Heritage Command
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