I pull up to a small driveway on the La Push reservation and in front of a small one story house with blinking red and green lights, and a sad little dilapidated snow man in the front yard, the light is on the front porch. I can hear the loud Christmas music and people laughing and talking over said loud music and my auditory senses are already overstimulated.
A familiar truck pulls up behind me and I see Jacob in a ridiculously loud Christmas sweater hop out and walk up to my driver's side door, a wide grin plastered across his face as the lights on his sweater blink, "Ho, Ho, Ho," and I chuckle as I open the door.
"You ready?" and I slide out of the seat and shut the door.
No, "Yeah," I say, smiling as bright as I can muster.
"For what it's worth, you look really nice," he said, giving me one of his warm and genuine smiles, wraps his arm around my shoulder and I am slotted nicely against his warm body which feels amazing. If he could just do this the rest of the party, I think I might survive.
"Thanks Jake," I say, this time I smile for real as I look down at the thick cranberry red oversized sweater and black skinny jeans that I braved holiday mall shopping for and my black doc martens. At least I was comfortable. I also managed to put on a little bit of make-up which I spent the least amount of time on. It was just mascara, blush and little lip gloss and that was all I could really do. I feel like an imbecile if I put on much more than that. What took me the longest was curling my hair and I think it turned out pretty good as the soft loose curls brushed against my mid back.
Jacob opens the door to raucous mirth and gaiety and the noise was near deafening once we are inside the house. Many of the boys from the reservation are wearing ugly sweaters and a few girls are in dresses, heels, and a lot more makeup.
I immediately feel underdressed.
"Want a drink?" Jake asks, his eyebrows arched.
"Yep," I say, watching as Jake retreats to a table with a plethora of bottles, red solo cups, a bowl of cheetos and pretzels. There was a skinny sparsely decorated fake tree in the corner of the living room and I kind of liked the unrefined unstuffy nature of it all, it was truly a high school party with all the silly yuletide trappings. I wonder whose house this was as I look around at the older furniture and carpet that looks like it came straight out of 1979, no school or family pictures on the wall or fireplace mantle to give me a clue.
Jacob came back with two red solo cups full of some kind of concoction. I bring it to my lips and tip the cup back and find it's Coke…just Coke. But I am armed and ready for this "in case," situation; I picked up a small flask at the mall and filled it up with Charlie's whiskey before I left. So I sip my Coke and bide my time to when I can safely spike my drink without the prying scrutiny of many highschool eyeballs.
The song changes and Jacob gives a loud whoop and yell and starts dancing around and other people start to join him; now I'm officially wildly uncomfortable. If there's anything I don't do, it's dance. Don't let the ballet upbringing fool you, it did not help my coordination, it only affirmed that I have exactly zero.
I step back closer to the door as more people begin joining in the dance and I start to feel that familiar pressure building in my chest when things are becoming too much too fast; cold sweat starts to creep up my back.
"Jake," I yell over the music, and Jacob's eyes snap to mine, "I'm gonna step out for a sec," my thumbs pointing over my shoulder to the door. Jake nods and I turn and step through the front door and out onto the porch with the lonely amber glow of the solitary light. For some reason, I feel lightheaded and my breathing is shallow and quick, so I lean up against the side of the house and try to slow down my breathing.
"You okay," a familiar baritone voice says in front of me. I look up and see Paul standing on the steps leading up to the porch. I haven't seen him since the night when I nearly creamed him with my car and he hasn't been at the library in his usual spot which I have conflicted feelings about. I think about him pinning me up against the door to Charlie's house and the way his lips brushed against my neck and ear, the way he tucked my hair behind my ear allowing his index finger to trace my jaw and it didn't help my hyperventilating.
"Just getting some air," I say, putting my drink on the ground, my hands on my knees and I see his black biker boots as he stands next to me and then he leans next to me.
"I'm gonna help you, okay?" he says, and before I can say or do anything he puts his hand on the back of my neck and gently pushes my head down closer to my knees, "focus on taking slower breaths, in for 4 seconds, out for 4 for seconds." I follow his instructions and start to feel the cold sweat recede back, the pressure begins to loosen in my chest. "Now sit up," he says, and I sit more upright, feeling slightly light headed and he puts his hand on the upper portion of my chest, applying steady and consistent pressure. His hand was hot against my chest which made me relax even more in the cold winter night air. I start to feel more myself, more relaxed and I look at him finally. His eyes are warm and gentle with the light glinting on those spots of green that I am learning I really like, his full lips have a whisper of a smile as he looks back at me.
"Better?" he asks, his thumb gently sweeping along my collar bone over my sweater and I feel the somersaults begin in my belly.
"Yeah thanks," I say and he slips his hand back into the pocket of his jeans.
"Sure," he replies and settles into his lean next to me on the side of the house.
"Where did you learn that?" I ask quietly, "how did you know?"
"Experience," he says, looking straight ahead, "my parents fought a lot growing up and my Dad isn't the nicest guy in the world," he shifted from one leg to another, gaze still straight forward as he spoke, "I started having panic attacks after my parents split and Kelly recognized it; helped me learn how to cope."
"I'm sorry that happened to you," not really knowing what to say as I look down at my shoes and he turns to look back at me as I trace the wood grain on the porch floor with the toe of my shoe. "So you do that whenever you feel it coming on?" I ask, looking back up to him.
"I've been using this a little more recently," he says, and pulls out the flask from his back pocket, taking a sip and I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. It's quiet for a few moments that feel like hours. I grab the flask from my back pocket and take a sip too.
"Hey," he says smiling, "you stole my idea finally," and we both smile and chuckle.
"I told you I was going to," I say, taking another long sip, not bothering with my cup of Coke that sits lonely on the side of the porch.
"Bella I…" he starts but hesitates, "um, I don't know how to…"
"It's fine Paul," I say, trying to give him an excuse to explain why he didn't want to kiss me that night a few days ago, "really, I get it."
"You get it?" he asks, his tone skeptical, "how's that?"
"You changed your mind, it happens," I say and shrug, taking another long sip of my whiskey, not meeting his eyes afterwards as I try to ignore how being left alone on my front porch burning alive with desire nearly made me fall apart. It felt all too familiar.
"That's not what happened," he says quietly, "I didn't leave because I changed my mind."
"Then why did you leave?" I ask, looking more squarely at him now.
"Because," he starts, looking down at the floor, his brow furrowing and there's too much space, too much quiet, too much of a pause and he's wincing again.
I push out of my lean and face him now, "because what?"
"I don't think if I start, I'll be able to stop, Bella," he says through a tight jaw and his eyes intense as he continues to look at the floor and I want to see his eyes, I want him to look at me because it makes me feel different, and I want to feel it again.
And then the snap happens again, the self-preservation sense breaks in two and the part of me that has boundaries that has warning bells sinks beneath the surface and I step into his space the way he's done to me so many times and his eyes snap up to me and those flecks of green that shine in the light are taunting me, daring me, beckoning me…
"Stand up," I demand and to my utter astonishment, he obliges and I feel the surface of my skin begin to buzz like static electricity and as I step closer to him, my chin at the top of his chest and I stare directly into his darkening eyes, I feel that familiar heat begin to bloom in between my hips and I continue to test the measure of my boldness, my dead self-preservation twitching and bloody on the ground. "Do it," I say and his eyes flash the same way they did on my front steps, "and don't stop."
I thought I would be scared, I thought being with someone else would be inconceivable after Edward. I thought Edward would be the last person I do anything intimate with and I try to swallow all of that down as I stare at the broad plane of Paul's chest. Letting the desire in me build past the pain.
Paul's dark eyes flit between mine for a second, like he's waiting for more permission. I wet my lips, look down to his mouth and back up to his eyes.
"Fuck it," he says, and his hand is in my hair fisting a large handful of it as his other hand takes my hip and pulls me to him as his lips crash hard against mine. His full lips are soft and eager as he runs his tongue along the crease of my mouth and I open to him, my stomach turning into a flurry of butterflies that feel like they may be on fire, falling down into the lower part of my abdomen the more his mouth moves over mine.
And I don't think I was ready; I wasn't ready for the intensity of how Paul Lahote kisses because I feel like I'm floating and falling at the same time. His tongue sweeps through my mouth and he pulls my hair back more to dip his tongue deeper into my mouth and it is doing all sorts of wonderful things to my fire butterflies. His other hand travels around to my low back, his fingers splaying out to reach the topmost part of my ass as he continues to pull me close to his body. My hands are balled at his chest and I begin to unfurl my fingers to touch him, feeling the hard plane of his chest, running my hands up along his neck, feeling his soft hair between my fingers. His hips meld into mine, the coil within my belly tightens and rises up the more he pulls at my hair in his tight fist. I let out a sigh as he bites my lower lip and his tongue dips back into my mouth. He walks back with me and pushes me up against the railing of the porch and I sit back on the ledge, his hands sliding down my thighs and hook my legs around his waist and a surge of heat shoots up my spine at the pressure of his body against my core. One of his hands travels down to the mound of my ass, as he presses his hips into mine and the heat spirals up to my chest as he lets out a low gravelly sound from his chest. His mouth leaves mine and is now traveling down my jaw and sucking on the soft curve of my neck, I feel the scrape of his teeth and a moan escapes my lips without my permission. He snaps his hips into me again and that surge of heat runs up my spine again.
"Oh my god," I whisper and turn my head to nip his earlobe and his hand on my ass squeezes almost painfully tight as he releases another growling moan. His fingers begin to toy with and unbutton my jeans, unzipping them and he squeezes his hand into the front, his fingers sliding over my panties.
"So fucking wet," he says with his lips to my ear, the low vibration of his voice and his fingers on me is like kerosine on the fire that's building between my thighs. I wrap my arms around his neck and feel my hips begin to move against his fingers. His fingers have navigated around my panties and have nestled in between the hot slickness at the apex of my thighs and a sound escapes my lips without my permission. He begins to move his fingers there and I need more pressure, maybe lower or higher, I just need him…
"There! Oh fuck, right there," I say as his fingers hit the perfect spot sending shock waves of pleasure directly up my spine. My hips have found a rhythm now as his mouth finds mine again and he presses his hips into me over and over.
And then the front door opens and I go rigid, as Paul steps away from me and I cross my legs hiding my open jeans.
"Bells," Jacob yells, opening the door and stepping out holding two more drinks in his hands, "hey bro, when did you get here?"
"Few minutes ago," he says, pulling his shirt down slightly and my eyes slide down to the substantial erection in his pants.
"We were gonna play a game, you guys want in?" Jacob asks, and I nearly groan, and the answer to that is no I absolutely do not want to play a fucking game right now, but I'm here to spend time with my friend, so I ease up on my hostilities.
"Okay well, we're gonna start in five," Jake says, and shuts the door.
I slide off the railing as Paul looks over at me and I see in him what I felt that night he left. I realize that with Edward I always felt like I was drowning and there was a kind of safety in it, to sink beneath the surface and be in stillness with him. It was a quiet intimacy that made me feel safe and secure. But this with Paul, this wasn't safe: it was burning alive.
I wet my swollen lips as I stare back at him and say, "don't stop," and I walk back in after Jacob.
*
"So you and Paul seemed cozy," Jake says over my cell phone as I shut my car door and walk up to the front door of Charlie's house.
"Yeah he's nice," not divulging too much, because in truth, I don't want to get my hopes up. I'm still fucking broken and that means that any romantic endeavor no matter how sumptuous or tempting is probably a bad idea for me right now.
"Anything there?" Jacob asks tentatively and frankly I'm unsure how to answer that; the first reason is that Jacob asked me out a week ago and I don't know how sensitive he still is about me shooting him down and the other thing is…I really don't know and I don't know if I want to know if there is anything there. However, I want it and I want more; because Edward was making me fucking nuts with the strained intimacy. I understood he was scared he wouldn't be able to resist killing me but the fact that he was taking things at a snail's pace was making me feel touch starved.
"Not ready yet, Jake," I say, hoping he will drop it because although I enjoyed myself, I really don't want to get my hopes up at all, because this could get complicated with Paul and I don't know if I can do more complications. But the way he kissed me, the way he touched me, the way my body moved against his, his hands in my hair, his tongue in my mouth…
STOP.
"Okay, okay, sorry, don't mean to pry," he says, but I can hear he's smiling which relieves some of the worry that he may be jealous.
"You aren't prying Jake, I just need to head in and go to sleep," I say, wrapping my arms around my waist, feeling that empty hole where my heart once was. At least it wasn't gaping and bleeding anymore, but the ache was still a reminder. I want to believe that things will get better, but I also didn't want to be unrealistic. Paul may lose interest now and will probably move on to the next girl, like most really good looking guys do. Edward surely was; and that thought made the gaping maw of my chest ache so painfully I groaned.
"You okay?" Jake asks.
"Yes I'm fine Jake, I promise," I lied, as the pain still surged in my chest, "I'll talk to you later," and I flip down the phone as I open the door to Charlie's house. I go upstairs and get myself ready, turn out the lights, and lay down. As I close my eyes, I see fiery tawny brown eyes with flecks of green staring back at me and allow myself to drift off feeling his hands on my body as I fall asleep.
Fifteen minutes later I hear a tapping on my window, thinking I'm dreaming, I ignore it initially until I hear it three more times. I sit up and walk to the window and there standing in the snow is a shirtless Paul. I open the window and immediately regret it since I'm wearing hardly anything and it's freezing outside.
"What are you doing?" I whisper shout down to him.
"Stand aside," he whisper shouts back and I pinch my brows together wondering why. He gestures with his hand for me to move and so I back up from the window and I watch as he jumps from the tree by my window and parkours through my window. He lands in my room without making a sound and I'm speechless.
"How," I begin as he shuts the window and rounds on me, his lips are on mine before I say another word and he slides his hands around my waist, feeling my breasts press up against his bare chest, my nipples beading through the soft fabric of my top. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and I begin to feel the burning butterflies in my belly begin to take flight. His hands travel down to my ass and pick me up and my legs wrap around his waist and lower me on my bed, his large body pressing onto mine and then for some reason I seize. He stops and hovers over me, his eyes flitting between mine.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"Um," Fuck how do I say this? "Paul I…I'm," I stammer like an idiot, "a virgin."
"Oh," he says and he stands up, "I just assumed because…"
"No Edward wanted to wait," I say in a tone that dripped in disdain, "but it's not like I'm not ready," I take a breath before I finish my thought, "I just wanted you to know…you know before."
He stands with his back to the window and he is a dark silhouette with the moonlight pouring into my room, but I can still make out the curve of his jaw, his musculature, the outline of his perfect mouth as he stares at me sitting disheveled on my bed.
"He's never touched you? Made you come?" he asks and I flush bright red.
"Um, no," I say softly, my confidence deflating like a balloon.
"What about you?" he asks and now I'm confused.
"What about me?"
"Do you touch yourself?" he places his hands on his hips and I don't think I can get any more bright red but if my face could burst into flames, it would.
"Um," I feel myself starting to sweat a bit now, "yes, but…I haven't…in…" and I have no words. I was trying to say it's been a while since I've masterbated. I haven't done it in a long time because I've been too out of my mind to have a sex drive.
Paul stands there staring at me, but he doesn't seem weirded out. It almost seems like he's even more aroused and my eyes flick down to the massive erection in his jeans and it makes me as nervous as it makes me excited. How was that going to…fit?
He clicks his tongue and says, "lay down."
I swallow hard as I lay back slowly, watching him as he stalks towards me and now I feel that nervous anticipation energy tightening in my chest. I always thought I'd lose my virginity to someone I was in love with and have it be special, but at this point, I just want to be touched, I want to feel anything other than sad.
He hovers over me and kisses me softly, opening his mouth and letting his tongue run over my lips and I open to him. He begins to kiss down my jaw, my neck, in between my breasts and my breath hitches and I arch my back to him and place my hands on his head. He peers up at me and smiles and I think I die a little inside. He kisses over my nipples, swiping his tongue over them and I arch my back even more and I sigh, pulling his hair gently. He kisses down over my stomach and then over the mound of my core and my fingers flex in his hair as he kisses even lower over an area that sends familiar waves of pleasure along the surface of my skin and I look down at him and I see his dark eyes watching me and it's so dismantling seeing him this way I nearly lose myself.
"Tell me to stop," he says softly, as he moves my panties to the side and kisses that same spot I like and my hips move into his mouth and I let out a soft moan, "because I won't," he says against my core and the vibration of his voice sends another surge of electricity up my spine; and then his tongue takes a long swipe from my opening to my apex and I moan loader that I meant to and I slap my hand over my mouth. We both freeze for a moment and listen for a minute to see if Charlie heard; soft snoring from Charlie's room confirms that he is still fast asleep and Paul laughs quietly as he looks up at me, "gotta learn to be quieter, princess," he says against me again and my hips begin to move, searching for that pressure, for his touch.
"Princess? Why the fu-," and I'm cut off by his tongue swiping over the exact spot that sends me hurtling skyward. His tongue is merciless as he swipes over the same spot, making the coil within me tighten and climb higher and my back arches as my hips move against him; and then I feel his finger sweep around my opening and then move slowly inside.
"Fuck you're tight," he groans as he begins to slowly pump his fingers into me and I'm nearing the edge of something that I've never felt before, I'm on a cliff about to swan dive over I can feel it with every swipe of his tongue, pump of his fingers, movement of my hips, and arch of my back. I'm so close to it now as I fist my sheets in my hands. He adds another finger and I'm nearly there. "Look at me Bella," he says and I look down and see his eyes watching me, those burning green flecks etch into my memory, as he turns his fingers and rubs along a spot inside of me that has me careening over the edge into ecstasy. I cover my mouth with my hands as I cry out and I arch my back, feeling every nerve in my body ignite. It spills over and out of me like a light in a dark room and explodes into every corner of my body, claiming me and consuming me. I still feel his tongue and his fingers bring me back down into my body.
I'm breathing heavily and I feel…light. Lighter than ever before; like Paul had just lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders with his tongue and fingers. I look down at him as he takes the fingers that were inside of me and places them into his mouth, sucking the wetness clean; and it is absolutely filthy…disgusting and it makes the fire surge between my hips again as I watch him do it. What is happening to me?
He wipes his mouth with his forearm and travels back up my body, placing kisses along my stomach, breasts, neck, and finally my lips.
He kisses me softly, his full lips moving gently over mine and I feel him on my thigh, the rock hard length of his dick screaming against his jeans.
"Get some sleep Bella," he whispers against my lips.
Wait…what? "Wait, but you haven't…I…it doesn't seem fair," I stammer.
"Don't worry about me," he says and he kisses me once more and he stands up, turns, and walks to the window.
"But," I begin, "I want to, I'm ready," I whisper as he opens the window.
"Bella," he says and the cold air rushes into the room, making goosebumps sweep across my skin, "you aren't ready yet," and he begins to crouch through the window.
I scoot to the edge of the bed and say, "how the hell do you know?"
He looks at me with a dark and devastating smile and says, "because when you're ready, you'll be begging me."
Then he jumps down to the ground and I sit on the edge of my bed, mouth agape for a full minute before I finally get up and shut the window, seeing he had already disappeared. I go to my drawer and grab a new pair of panties, putting my saturated ones in the dirty laundry basket. I lay back down, pulling the covers up over my head and I swear I keep hearing the sound of tapping on my window as I finally fall asleep.