Author's Note: I hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for all the support. I love each and every one of you. I would just like to add, sorry about the confusion with the names (if you noticed) in the last chapter. I had written a draft of it a long time ago and as I was reading through it, I got confused as well, so I may have switched the names around. But Jarred's fiancée is Kim. She is also Renesmee's best friend.

Also! I'm thinking about writing another story based on Renesmee and Jacob! Do you guys like cowboys? ;) It's going to be another exotic romance. Please let me know if you guys are interested.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.


CHAPTER EIGHT


The first think that Renesmee noticed when she opened her eyes was the darkened gray sky outside the window. Glancing at the nightstand clock, she grimaced at the time.

Damn! I haven't done anything since I got here except eat, sleep and fu—

Hastily dismissing the errant, but appropriate, thought, her eyes surveyed the room for signs of Jacob. Earlier, he had muttered something about getting up, but she'd been too caught in the thrall of sleep to do more than grumble and pull a pillow over her head. He'd laughed, smacked her behind, and told her to "shake a leg".

Sighing because she really didn't feel like moving, Renesmee crawled out of bed to walk toward the bathroom. She emerged a few moments later and looked around for her clothes. She remembered folding them and putting them on top of the dresser before she'd taken her shower earlier. But now they were nowhere to be seen.

Perplexed, she searched the room.

She was near to thinking Jacob had thrown them away, when she wrenched opened a drawer and at last saw all her clothes, folded just as she remember, inside.

An odd feeling began to grow in her chest. There was something very intimate about having her possessions mingled amongst his. Renesmee knew she shouldn't read too much into it. Granted, he'd probably put her clothes in the drawer to get them out of the way, but she couldn't help thinking there was something more.

Picking up one of the shirts she'd purchased earlier, she sat down on the bed and stared out the lattice framed window. In the heat of passion she had promised to give Jacob a chance, but in the clear light of approaching duck, her choice seemed ridiculously foolhardy.

Doubtless, most women would give their eyeteeth for a man like Jacob Black. Handsome, rich and debonair, he was a walking dream. Yet, most women didn't have a nightmare like Brayden Windham in their past to compare.

Dropping the shirt, Renesmee stood to walk toward the window, watching absently as the wind swayed through the trees, her mind remembering a past she'd rather forget.

At the tender age of eighteen, she'd been released from the care of the state with a few bucks and a "good luck with the rest of your life". Eager to leave Oklahoma, she'd boarded a bus headed for Los Angeles. She'd wanted some excitement and a chance to make a good life for herself. California had seemed the perfect place.

Amazed by all the bustling activity, it didn't take long before she found a job waiting tables in a restaurant, and for the next year, she'd pinched pennies while staying in seedy motels until she finally had enough for a deposit on a small studio apartment. Later that same month, she enrolled at a local Junior College.

Renesmee wouldn't have gone so far as to say her life had been perfect, but she was self-sufficient and independent. Two things she craved after the hectic uncertainty of fostered living. However, the day Brayden Windham sauntered into her life, all of that changed.

A handsome, well-to-do marketing consultant, he'd dined often at the small cafe where she worked. When he first asked her out on a date, Renesmee remembered being flattered. Although other men had approached her in the past, Brayden was unfailingly polite. He'd made her feel special—wanted.

As usual in relationships that go sour, at first things were fine, more than fine actually. Brayden introduced her to a whole other world of art, culture and fine living. He'd been like a gentle, determined tutor. After six months of dating, he'd asked her to move into his spacious Century City apartment.

Renesmee had been hesitant at first, but slowly Brayden wore her down, convincing her that living with him would help defer cost and give her more money for school. He was so loving and attentive that she pushed away her uncertainties and packed her meager belongings.

Brayden had always been dominant in bed. She'd never asked him about it before because she liked his rough edges. Though, when he began to push her boundaries more and more, she finally worked up enough nerve to ask him if he enjoyed being dominant.

To this day, she could still recall the look on his face as he stared at her, weighing her question. The very next night he'd taken her to a club located in the heart of downtown.

On the surface, Boudoirs, had been an upscale dance hall complete with flashing lights and crowded bodies, but as she toured the lower, private echelons. Renesmee realized much, much more was contained within the dark, forbidding underground.

She would have liked to say that she'd been disgusted by the purveyance—the sights, smells and sounds—but her body had tingled with arousal. Even to this day, she couldn't deny it.

Brayden had sensed her intrigue and spirited her home. Within moments of stepping through the door, he introduced her into the true world of dominance and submission.

Heady, erotic and totally encompassing, Renesmee had fallen into the life with ease. She never understood what made her crave the things she did, but resisting had felt like denying her soul to breathe.

Nevertheless, within a few months, the gentle lover she knew began to change like the wind. Brayden's dominance, once fascinating, began to strangle her. She couldn't leave without telling him where she was going. The few friends she'd made were suddenly unworthy. Her interests dismissed, she was regulated to his companions, his wants and his desires.

Tolerant of his demeanor as part and parcel of the life they'd lived, she'd taken it in stride. It wasn't until she adamantly refused to reject her acceptance to UCLA that his attitude flipped for the absolute worse.

The first time he'd slapped her, she'd forgiven him. The second time, she'd cried, hoping he would apologize. The next time it occurred, Brayden didn't even look sorry. He'd raped her, beaten her and taken her car keys.

The worst part was even after the traumatic event, she hoped there was some way to bring back the loving man she'd once known. Renesmee figured if she could learn to please him better things would go back to normal.

They never did, and the gentle sexual dominance he'd previously shown turned to cruelty.

Sighing, Renesmee turned away from the window, and walked back toward the bed, slowly removing her cotton pajamas.

She didn't think Jacob was totally like Brayden, but there were enough similarities to put her on edge. How could she protect herself from a man like him? When she left Windham, she'd left penniless, without a friend to call upon, but she'd been able to get away. After a year, she had even re-applied to UCLA.

Yet, and Renesmee recognized this intuitively, she would never be able to get away from Jacob. His money and power made him a force to be reckoned with. He was ten times as daunting as Brayden had ever been, and if he wanted her, she'd never loosen his hold.

Slipping on her shirt, and grabbing the Capri pants from the drawer, she quickly dressed, feeling foolish for rehashing so many bad memories. For nearly ten years, she'd learned to put her experience with Brayden out of her mind. She'd dated other guys, graduated with a bachelor's degree and was nearly finished with law school. She had made a life beyond what Brayden attempted to ruin—the life she had always dreamed about.

She'd be a fool to put herself in a position where she might lose it all again, but her hunger for Jacob was growing despite her convictions to the contrary.

Desperately needing to talk to someone about her fears, Renesmee wished she'd been able to get hold of Kim earlier, but when she called her cell phone she'd been put through to voice mail. Frustrated, she'd left a message briefly explaining that she was with Jacob and then phoned the club to make her apologies to the manager.

Melissa had answered, surprising her because the buxom brunette was supposed to be on vacation. Wary about explaining the situation, she'd given her some half-baked excuse, and told her she was sick.

Lost inside a tumult of emotions, she took a deep breath, glanced once in the mirror, and made her way down the stairs. As much as she would have liked to stay inside the room, hiding away, Renesmee knew she'd have to face the music eventually.

Most of the lower interior was ablaze and a tinkling, childish laughter echoed. Continuing toward the sounds, she pushed open the swinging kitchen door, slightly surprised by the homely tableau.

"Well, looks like someone finally decided to join us."

Embarrassed, Renesmee smiled at Margie as she took a small step over the threshold. "Sorry, I-I overslept."

"No biggie, you're just in time for dinner." Margie walked toward the large, round oak kitchen table, pointing a large cooking spoon at the small little girl seated to the left of Jacob. "This little munchkin here is my granddaughter." She moved closer to tousle the child's soft auburn hair with her free hand, commanding in a firm voice, "Say hello, Jenna."

"Hello," Jenna squeaked in return, her attention clearly focused on the game of cards she was playing with Jacob.

Renesmee mumbled a reply between 'hey' and 'hello', and stood awkwardly in the doorway, searching for a way to ease her rising tension. Swinging a curious look at the relaxed, composed Jacob, she questioned with her eyes where she was supposed to fit into all this.

Adding to her discomfort, Jacob grinned and patted the chair next to him. "Jenna's a serious 'Go Fish' player. She's already beaten me once, but I think this time," he gestured toward a small stack in front of him, winking, "I've got her on the ropes." Jenna shuffled her cards and squinted at Jacob with a determined look. "Though, I may need you to look over her shoulder a few times," he murmured, playfully staring the child down.

Jenna set back in her chair, her expression affronted. "No! Look at his cards. He already has three books! If he gets another, he'll win."

"I don't think I can be of any help," Renesmee muttered, shifting her gaze back and forth as she took a seat. "I've never played this game before."

Dismissing her lack of knowledge with a wave, Jenna peered across the table. "Just tell me all the cards he has in his hand."

Margie stopped swirling the pot on the stove, glancing over her shoulder. "Jenna!"

"But Granny, he asked her to cheat first."

"Jake!"

Renesmee couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "Yeah, Jake," she said, mimicking Margie's matronly voice. The game went quickly after that, with Renesmee holding up fingers and making signs to Jenna behind Jacob's back. He peered at her a couple of times, but accepted defeat when Jenna triumphantly showcased her final book.

"That's two times in a row. Now you have to admit that I am the greatest 'Go Fish' player ever!"

"Yeah, you're the greatest player ever," Jacob mumbled, tugging on the ends of Renesmee's hair. "Of course, you did have help."

Margie tapped her spoon against the pot. "Okay, well now that's settled, I think it's time for us to eat."

Renesmee felt her stomach growl in response. She hadn't been hungry when she came down earlier, but she smiled gratefully at the steaming helping of food in front of her. "This looks really delicious."

"Thank you, dear. Actually, it's a new salmon dish I'm trying out for the diner, seared salmon with mango salsa, red potatoes and veggies. Take a bite and tell me what you think."

Jenna giggled, digging in as well. "We're all Granny's guinea pigs," she pronounced.

"That's Guinea pig, and don't talk with your mouth full," Margie admonished, taking a vacant seat. "So, what do you do, Renesmee?"

Nearly choking on her food, she gasped, hastily swallowing a mouthful. "I ... uh ... I'm a dancer," she mumbled.

"Oh! Really? What kind of dancing? Classical? Ballet? You've definitely got the calves of a dancer, but I'd guess you were a little tall for ballet."

Renesmee looked at Jacob. Help, she screamed at him, only her lips formed a silent 'O'.

She wasn't embarrassed about her job, but she didn't want to get into a discussion about stripping in front of a child. People always seemed to have endless questions whenever she brought the subject up.

"I'm not trained," she finally murmured, staring back down at her plate, hoping Margie would get the hint and move on to another topic.

She didn't have to worry though because Jenna suddenly barged into the conversation with her own tale. "I danced the lead in my school's Christmas play last year. My best friend, Rowan, wanted it but our teacher said I had better timing."

Fascinated by the young child's enthusiasm, and extremely grateful for the change in discussion, Renesmee encouraged Jenna to continue by asking a lot of questions.

Enthusiastic to have a ready audience, the young girl regaled them about the performance. She even wrung promises from Renesmee and Jacob to attend the next one later that year. "You can bring your parents to!" she exclaimed.

Startled, Renesmee jerked her head up. Again she looked at Jacob, hoping he'd intercede with some thoughtful, witty response, but he only smiled, lifting his brows as though he too was waiting for a response.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," she murmured, looking out toward the windows of the kitchen before focusing on the child once more. "I don't know who my parents are, so they really couldn't come."

Undeterred, Jenna continued, "Are you adopted?"

"No, not adopted."

"Well ... how did you grow up then if you weren't adopted?"

Out of the mouths of babes. "There are many ways to grow up, Jenna. Some people have parents and some people don't. I'm one of the people who don't."

Strange, she had never explained her life in such a way, but saying it didn't make her feel any less a person. Truth be known, she actually felt a sense of relief. The uncompromising, wonder-like acceptance in Jenna's gaze brought to light a point of view she'd been loathe to think about.

Her experiences had molded her, and at times she was envious of folks like Kim, who had parents, but Renesmee knew that without the rough upbringing, she'd be less than she was now. Without the facets that had hewn her into shape, she'd be a different person. And truth be known, she enjoyed the being she was now.

"Okay, so no parents. But, you've promised to come and I'll be looking for you."

Renesmee smiled happily. "I'll be there, Jenna. You can bet your bottom dollar on that."

"Bet the bottom dollar. Granny says that all the time, but I don't understand what it means. How can you bet your bottom dollar?"

"It means you can bet your last penny on it, Jenna," Jacob said, reaching across the table to flick her chin.

"Well ... I have a whole jar of pennies..."

And again, as if something of momentous importance hadn't just occurred, Jenna moved on to the heaps of change she'd saved in the jars her parents had given her.

The evening moved along swiftly after that, with both Jacob and Margie volunteering stories of their youth. Relaxing into the discussion, Renesmee shared what tales she could about her invariant childhood, laughing about some of the craziness she'd endured. All in all, it was one of the best nights of her life.

When Margie rose and began to gather the empty dishes Renesmee nearly begged for her to stay. "You don't really have to go, do you?"

"Yes, I've got to get this munchkin home. It's already way past her bedtime."

"No, it's not. Mom lets me stay up."

"But tonight isn't one of those nights, dear." Smiling with a knowing grin, Margie began ladling leftovers into empty Tupperware. "Besides, Jacob and Renesmee need to get some sleep. They got here really early in the morning. And, if we want to see them tomorrow at the Melting Festival than we've got to let them rest."

"The what?" Renesmee asked.

"The Melting Festival," Marge clarified. "It's the city's summer festival here in Mammoth."

"They've got lots of food and dew-drop chocolate ice cream," Jenna chimed in. "It's really, really fun, and they have horses that take you on a trail. Oh ... please say you'll come. I want you to meet Rowan."

Staring into the child's expectant face, Renesmee could do no more than nod her head, even as she glimpsed the smiling, knowing looks between Jacob and Margie.

She'd been manoeuvred, once again, but she wasn't upset.

Jenna's boundless enthusiasm was contagious, and Renesmee found herself looking forward to the event. "I'll be there," she assured.

"Great," Margie piped, "make sure you come to my booth so you can taste some of my famed cherry cobbler."

Laughing, Renesmee nodded again. "Make sure you save me a piece. I know the line will be around the block if your famous potato pie is any indication."

Beaming smiles, along with promises to meet at specific locations, were the last things Renesmee was left with as she watched Margie and her granddaughter bundle into their small SUV with a fond sense of regret.

"I'm glad you liked them," Jacob whispered in her ear, coming close to wrap his arms about her.

"They're really nice. What's not to like?"

"I don't know. You can be difficult at times. It's hard to gauge what will make you happy."

Renesmee sighed. "Is that what you're worried about? What will make me happy?"

"You have a lot to learn if you don't know that I am supremely worried about what makes you happy, Ness. Most times, that's the only thing I think about."

Turning in his arms, she peered up at him. "Yet, you seem so sure you can make me happy."

"We wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise."

Tired of fighting the battle within herself, she laid her head against his chest. "I'm not in the mood to be dominated tonight, Jacob. Can you just love me without any commands or punishments?"

Jacob didn't answer verbally. He led her upstairs to his bedroom and slowly undressed her. There on the large king size bed, he showed her, over and over, how much he could love her.


Sneak-peek of the next chapter:


"Fifty dollars!" This was from the young guy in the lettermen jacket, who promptly received a punch to the arm from his disgruntled girlfriend.

"One hundred dollars," Two childish voices chimed at once, and Renesmee smiled as she waved to Rowan, Jenna and their respective sets of parents.

"Two fifty!"

Unsure who yelled the amount; Renesmee peered around the crowd looking for the mysterious bidder until her eyes clashed upon a dark, heated stare.

"One hundred thousand." Jacob didn't even need to shout, his voice carried with the silencing effect of a trumpet blast.


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