Chapter 6: Make Me Wanna Die
A/N: This is a very… lemon-y chapter. Just fyi ;)
"Paul, I'm alright – I don't need another pillow."
"Just take it, okay?"
She sighed, leaning forward and allowing him to slide the pillow behind her back; adding to the three that were already there. She really didn't understand why he was babying her like this, but appreciated the fact that he cared about her this much. Just days ago, he had finally admitted how he felt for her – after she had gotten herself injured in the sunlight. Her arm still hurt like hell, and the sight of it did nothing to quell her worries about when – and if – it would heal. The skin up to her elbow was charred black and cracking, like what happens when you chap your lips. It seared with pain every five minutes, which was why she had been bed-ridden for the last 3 days. As much as she hated not being able to go out with the boys and hunt, she didn't complain about her current state. All she wanted to do was get well, and she would do whatever it took to make that happen.
After the boys had woken up, Paul had been the one to explain what had happened to her. They'd all been sympathetic – even David – and helped out as much as they could. Dwayne shared with her about the first time he got burned – it had been on his back, many years ago – and told her that it had healed. That was the only thing that gave her any hope on the subject of her arm.
All of the boys had been the definition of sweet to her since the accident – getting her food (and blood), making sure she had enough blankets, et cetera – and Paul hadn't left her side. He was more than she could ever ask for in a boyfriend, waiting on her and keeping her spirits up. He knew all the right words to say to make her feel better when she was sad, and she was just glad to have him around in a time like this. She loved him more than she could say, and knowing that he felt the same way was comforting. It meant that she didn't have to worry about him leaving her or anything like that. He would always be there for her, and she knew that.
"You're sure you don't want another blanket or… anything?" He asked from his place next to her on their bed.
She nodded, snuggling up to him, careful not to move her injured arm, "I'm sure. Seriously, you worry too much. Another blanket is the least of my problems."
Paul wrapped an arm around her, murmuring in her ear, "You're going to be fine. You heard what Dwayne said – it'll heal."
"But," she felt that awful pang in her stomach that came with talking about her brothers, "What about Edgar and Alan? They don't love me anymore – they want to fucking hunt me..."
"Don't worry about them, alright? They'll come around, I know they will. Judging by the way they acted when they found you and knew you weren't missing, they love you very much." He kissed her on the cheek lightly, "And, even if they do try something – they won't – I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you. No one's going to hurt you, I promise."
She nodded, but didn't feel much better. After the way they had reacted when she'd revealed her secret, she wasn't sure Edgar and Alan would want anything to do with her; except kill her. And knowing that scared her more than anything. Death would mean… death. No Paul, none of her boys – nothing. She couldn't take the thought – and pushed it to the back of her mind. "Get me a smoke, will you?"
He seemed momentarily taken aback, but complied without a word. Reaching into his jacket pocket, be produced his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He handed her one and lit it for her, before doing the same for himself. After taking long drags, they exhaled and laughed, "You alright, sassy?"
She blinked at him, through the smoke, "Oh yeah – I'm A fucking plus, babe." A giggle escaped her lips, as she began to feel bubbly inside, "Woah – what are we smoking?"
It took him second to answer, because he was laughing so hard, "Pot, I guess. And it's fucking good, too."
Now it was her turn to snort loudly, overcome in a fit of giggles and rolling into his arms. He blew smoke into her mouth as she kissed him, dazedly, and the room around them started to spin. Colors blinded their eyes and they held onto each other as the only solid things in the universe. Shelby's whole body felt numb and weightless – she couldn't even feel any pain in her arm. He held her tightly to him and she laughed at the feeling of his hands reaching up under her shirt; stroking her back gently. Everything felt so good – better than it had ever felt – and she wanted to touch him. Tossing away her joint, she worked his jacket off his shoulders, pulling his t-shirt off next. She ran her tongue down his torso – God, he was so beautiful – as he got her shirt off as well. Resting her forehead on his chest for a moment, she breathed, "Fuck, we're stoned, aren't we?"
His voice was shaky when he replied, "Yeah – pretty much. Can you please not stop?"
Laughing again, she resumed what she'd been doing, her fingers fumbling slightly as she un-did his pants. He kicked them off once she'd worked them down his legs – all of this being done using one hand, amazingly. She grinned at the sight of his erection straining against his underwear, and leaned down to kiss him through the fabric. His body went rigid – she had never done anything like this to him before – and then she finally freed him from the confines of his briefs. Moving in close, she ran her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, slowly, before whispering, "Mmm, do you ever touch yourself thinking about me, Paul?"
He didn't think it was possible for him to get harder – but the sensation of her hot breath on his was making him crazy. The question she posed was easy to answer, but he couldn't seem to make words come out of his mouth. "I… uh… I…"
She laughed – so softly, it was like bells ringing – and licked him again, sucking on the head for a moment now, before doing it over. Her (good) hand rested on his thigh, scratching lightly. "You… what?" Her voice was low and seductive, fueling the fire in his groin. "Tell me. Tell me all of the fantasies you have about me. I know you've done things to yourself before; when you think I'm sleeping…" Her tongue was hot and wet, and he was going mad with desire, "Dirty things… Naughty things…" He was so turned on at this point, and he was still so stoned – colors were rushing past him in a blur of light. "And, after all the things I've heard you tell yourself when you're wanking off – well… I just hope I'm not disappointing you." She sucked on his shaft now, humming against him quietly.
He groaned, "You're not. That's… You're… really fucking – shit." Still exhilarated from the drugs, she smiled and took him in her mouth, earning a sharp gasp from him in response. "Fuck."
His hands went to her head, and his fingers wrapped up in her hair, pulling her down further. She gagged for a second, but set a pace after that, bobbing up and down on him. She took in as much of Paul as she could, feeling somewhat dizzy, and he arched his back up off the bed involuntarily. Hands still clutching at her hair, he gasped in time with her mouth, allowing various nonsense and obscenities to escape his lips. "Fuck – I'm gonna… God –," She was so good at driving him up the wall.
Jesus, he loved her so fucking much.
As she stroked his happy trail with her fingers, he felt his body tighten, before letting go and spilling himself in her mouth. Hissing, he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back on the pillows. "Shit, sassy." He panted, letting go of her hair and groaning when she swallowed around him.
Pulling off, she crawled on top of him and giggled, "Did I do good?"
He chuckled, rubbing his eyes slowly, "Hell yes – that was fucking amazing." She blushed, and he wrapped her up in a bear hug, "Is there anything you aren't kick-ass at?"
"Cooking," she replied, automatically, "I can't do it."
"How's your arm?"
She held it up for inspection, and sighed, "It still stings, but it's not nearly as bad it was earlier." Looking at it, she made a face, "I just wish it would heal already. I'm tired of being cooped up inside all day."
"I know. I'm sorry," he kissed her, lightly, "But you know it's for the best. I mean, you can't hunt with an injury like that, right?"
Shelby shrugged, "Maybe I could –,"
"That's a risk I'm not willing to let you take."
She huffed, giving up, "Fine. Put your pants back on – the guys'll be back with food soon."
"So?" He lowered his mouth to suck on her neck.
"So –," She rolled her eyes, "They'll be pissed if they walk in on this – again."
Flipping them over so he was on top, he smirked, "I don't give a shit." His hands moved down to push her underwear off, stroking up her legs and making her shiver. "Unless, of course, you want me to stop…" His fingers brushed over her wet center on their way up her body, and she whimpered.
"Fuck you," she breathed, closing her eyes and pulling him into a kiss.
He engulfed her in his arms and slid into her steadily. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pushing him in deeper and causing them to gasp collectively. Paul felt himself giving up to her – giving himself up. He had given her everything since they'd met – immortality, protection, love – and yet he felt stronger each day he was with her. It was nice to have someone like her in his life.
She bucked her hips up to meet his thrusts, moaning and clinging to him with her good arm. He whispered things in her ear – random things about how he felt for her – and groaned, laying his head down in the crook of her neck.
"Paul…" She ran her fingers through his hair, as she felt the pleasure building.
"Come for me, sassy," he breathed, slamming into her fast and hard.
"Ah!" She yelped, coming on him – her walls tightening around his hard cock. Gasping, she continued to move with him, until he let go and she felt a spurt of hot wetness in her core. She held him while they both came down off their highs, and whispered, "I love you, baby."
He felt like fucking singing. "I love you, too. And you're beautiful."
She snorted, "Clearly, you're still stoned."
Rolling off her, they got under the sheets and he watched her fall asleep. She sighed quietly as she slept, and he stroked her face gently, listening to her steady breathing. After lying like that for a few minutes, he got out of bed and got dressed, moving over to sit down on the couch near the cave entrance. Almost as soon as he'd sat down, he heard the sound of footsteps making their way into the cave, and stood up. He assumed it would be one of the guys, but the face that greeted him around the corner was one he hadn't seen in years.
"Chase?"
He could hardly believe what he was seeing, but he knew that this was really happening. Chase looked exactly as he had the last time they'd spoken – he would, after all, he was immortal. His brown hair, streaked in one place with blonde, was still spiky and messy as ever. He was wearing a red plaid shirt with black jeans and Converse sneakers. It was almost as if they'd never been apart.
"What up, man?" He smiled, moving forward to give Paul a quick hug, "Long time, no see, huh?"
"Understatement," Paul replied, no trace of a smile on his face, "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again."
Chase shrugged, "Well, here I am! Heard you were living in Santa Carla, so I figured I'd come pay you a visit. You look good, bro. How've you been?"
At that point, Paul was still in a state of shock. What was he up to? They hadn't parted on good terms, so why he acting like they were best friends? "Uh… Yeah, I'm doing good. I've been living with my three friends for a long time now –,"
"And I see you've got a chick in your life, too. Unless she's someone else's girl," Chase moved so fast, Paul didn't even see him; in a flash, he was standing beside the bed, staring down at Shelby like a fucking vulture staring down at a dead carcass. Looking back to Paul, he smirked, "She's pretty hot – please tell me you're banging her."
Paul didn't answer, his fists clenched at his sides as anger began to course through him.
"What's her name? Candy? Sheila?" Chase snorted, "How much are you paying her, man? I'm thinkin' a girl like her goes for about a buck fifty –,"
He was across the room in a heartbeat, grabbing Chase and pinning him up to the wall, roughly. That was the Chase he remembered – a fucking bastard. Paul heard him chuckle and dug an elbow into his windpipe, making him gag.
"The fuck is your problem?" Paul snarled, his fans bared, "Who the fuck do you think you are, man? I haven't seen or heard from you in decades and you think you can just barge into my life and talk shit about my girlfriend? You little shit."
Chase shrugged, a smirk on his face, "I love how you've deluded yourself – and whatsername, over there in your bed – into thinking that you're some sort of big, tough leader. That is fucking rich, bro – I swear. You actually believe that you've changed? That you're, like, a hero now? Huh?"
Paul glared at him, "I have changed. I'm not your fucking sidekick – I moved on from that when I walked out on you. Or are you still bitter that I didn't want to be your little flunkie anymore? I didn't want to follow your stupid rules, so you threw a temper tantrum that you've kept going ever since?"
Chase struggled against him, his fangs coming out as well and his eyes dark, "Fuck you, man. You're still a flunkie – hanging around with that bleach blonde fucker, David. Doing whatever he tells you like a good dog. You're a fucking joke and you know it."
At that, Paul was ready to rip his lungs out, he was so pissed – but he found himself letting go of Chase. "Get out."
Chase looked surprised, "God, you're still such a pussy. Spineless and gutless 'till the very end, eh?"
"Get out," Paul growled again, his eyes narrowed, "or I'll fucking kill you. Don't think I won't. I'm a pussy, right? I'm gutless? Do you really want to stick around to see if that's still true?"
Chase let out a sigh, "Whatever. I'll go – but I have something for you; call it a very belated birthday gift." He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small, clear baggy – filled halfway to the brim with white powder.
Paul stiffened at the sight, "Is… Is that –?"
"Yeah," He tossed the bag to Paul, who caught it, "Top grade Coke – because I know you miss the good ol' days."
He shook his head, memories flooding his tired mind and making him tremble, "N-No, I… I'm done with this, man – I haven't done it in years –,"
"Dude, just take it." Chase turned to leave, "What have you got to lose this time?"
And then he was gone, leaving Paul standing alone, clutching the packet in his shaking hand.
A/N: Ooooh, bit of a cliffhanger for you guys ;D Haha, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter (please review if you did – reviews make my life sunny) and I'll update again soon :)