Kiss me out of desire

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

[AN: my entry for printing paws 3.0 an anonymous banner prompt competition. This one caught my eye. I reckon Jasper could be dark when he wants to be.

The fandom choice awards were announced last night. I won equal first favourite wolf author, second for favourite all-time story for 'Closer to God.' 'I'll be home for Christmas' won best erotica and best non canon and 'Swan's mate for life' won best non-traditional story. Five for five! Thank you so much to everyone who voted for me!]

She watched him with her.


Emily Young.

Leah's second cousin and her friend. Or so she used to be. They used to be as close as sisters.

And then Sam had imprinted on her.

She didn't blame Emily. That girl had done as much as she could to deny him. Every day he had visited her and pleaded his cause and every day she had told him to go back to Leah.

Until that fateful day when she had accused Sam of being just like his father. That was too much for him and he had given his body over to the anger. He phased.

Too close to her.

Too close to his imprint.

It had nearly cost her her life as well as her face and Emily used to be so beautiful. Now her face was a ravaged ruin; scarred from hairline to chin by three thick, red lines. The scars had long healed but they still retained the livid colour. One line pulled down the corner of her dark, almond-shaped right eye, and another twisted the right side of her mouth into a permanent grimace. The scars continued their trail down her arm and onto the back of her right hand.

Sam's wolf had nearly torn her arm off. She would never be healed and she would never be beautiful again.

Leah could not ask any more of her than that.

But Leah was still angry. Angry with Sam and angry with her fate.

And then she had seen first-hand how anger could transform you; when she, just like Sam, lost herself to the furred being inside her. But unlike Sam, her victim didn't survive it. Her father lay dead at her feet.

Heart attack they said.

Sure, but go back a step. What had scared him so badly that he had a coronary?

His daughter; the wolf.

Her anger shifted to the gods and whichever one of them had decided to make her life even worse by making her phase and share Sam's head. That added major insult to injury. She saw how deep his love for Emily was. She saw his memories of their lovemaking. She saw his desire for and adoration of his imprint.

She saw Emily's body where hers used to be; under Sam. She could smell them on each other. She knew what they ate for breakfast as well as every other secret they could never keep from her. What they did. How many times. What positions they used.

And worse, she saw all his plans for the future. She saw his hopes and dreams; his wished for children and his perfectly planned life stretching out in his head, into old age with images of Sam and Emily, grey haired now, on the porch in their rockers surrounded by grandchildren.

The bile rose in her throat.

She didn't get that chance at happiness. She didn't get an imprint. All she got was a bunch of teenage boys in her head constantly and they all saw her naked way more times than was comfortable for any of them. She didn't get love and adoration; she got fart jokes and unexpected boners.

And in her mind, that was all she could see as her future.

She seethed inside.

Alone in the forest, Jasper Whitlock was imagining killing Bella Swan for about the thousandth time. Tearing her throat out with his teeth or strangling her with his hands around her neck. It wasn't that he didn't have his blood lust under control; it was just that she needed to die. It was the obvious solution to all their troubles. As a strategist, he had worked that out a long time ago.

He sensibly kept this fantasy away from Edward's listening ability.

As a pathokinetic, he needed to feel some strong emotions occasionally. The ones people emitted as they died were the best; a rich, heady ambrosia he had become used to tasting when he had been a far darker, more wicked member of Maria's coven.

Bella attracted all the wrong attention and it could only get worse. Edward rescuing her from the sliding van in the school parking lot had been impulsive and stupid. Worse, Edward had fallen in love with her. The one person whose thoughts he could not read and whose blood was enticing and irresistible to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

Bella was trouble. Plus Edward steadfastly refused to just turn her. If she was a vampire, all their issues would be resolved. She would be dead or mostly dead. Either way worked for him.

But Jasper enjoyed feeling Edward's strong desire to feed on her and his emotional battle with himself not to do it. Icing on the emotional cake.

And then that whole nomad meeting at the baseball game, ending with James tracking her to Arizona? That had almost blown their cover. They even had to travel to sunny places in daylight to try and fix it. They took a huge risk.

Jasper hadn't minded guarding her on that trip. Her emotions during that panicked rush had been a cocktail of fear and guilt for him. Leaving her father. Saying horrible things to him. Running away with them. Being hunted.

Of course he had heard Bella arrange to meet James in the ballet studio. He could hear phone conversations in other rooms. He could also read the swing of her emotions. He had deliberately let her 'lose' him at the airport. It was child's play for her to go to the bathroom and leave by another exit. It was worth the insult to his capable military ego to feel all her emotions; her guilt at sneaking away from her rescuers and her fears for her mother.

He could read her like a book.

And then, lost in his memories, he was drawn back to the present when he picked up a blast of rage.


Absolute furious, seething anger.


He licked his lips as the venom surged in his mouth.

That was… delicious. The Cullens were so even tempered and in control that they were almost unemotional. They flat lined emotion. The kind of people who could deny their very nature and refuse to drink human blood had to have immense self-control. And Edward? Who had kept his sexual desire and libido locked down to such a degree that he was one hundred and six years old and still a virgin. He didn't even masturbate. It amazed Jasper. A vampire had such an incredible advantage when attracting humans; their natural prey. The venom worked on humans like nectar to bees. Animals were unaffected by it. But humans? They wanted to get close to them. They wanted to touch them. They wanted to fuck them. Jasper could feel their desire and their lust, but Edward could hear their very thoughts as well. To deny that?

Gorgeous Edward. Edward who looked like a Greek god. He had heard it all from Bella Swan's boring little mouth. She really needed to read something a little more up-to-date than her regency romances and classics.

Vampires were creatures of lust and darkness and they evoked emotions in their victims of fear and desire in equal measures. Sex and death. The things all the Cullens avoided.

But this emotion was different. This reeked of passion and it intrigued him. Who was it?

He scanned the forest and his eyes came to rest on Leah Clearwater. She was jogging along at a slightly faster than human pace, wearing some tiny cut off shorts and a green tank top. She was an exquisite creature. Tall and muscular and so unlike Alice. The contrast did things to his groin.

He emitted a low whistle and startled, she glanced around to see him nonchalantly leaning against a tree trunk with his arms folded across his chest.

"Shit!" she said.

"Yes. You are on our side of the treaty line."

She blinked. "Lucky you're not Emmett."

He chuckled.

Emmett thought that if the tribe insisted on the treaty line, they should be held to it. He and Paul had nearly come to blows over it and in the process, let the red-head escape.

"Your excuse?" he asked.

"I… lost track of where I was."

"Because you were thinking." He stepped towards her very carefully.

She didn't back away.

He picked up a spike of nerves; not quite fear, but close to it.

"I scare you," he stated.

"Sam says you are power, speed and death rolled into one."

So the pack knew who the real danger was. Good to know. "Does he? What do you say?"

"I think you have-" she paused, "-manners."

That was not what he expected to hear her say. "Manners?"

She gave an awkward shrug.

"You didn't mean to say that," he guessed.

"No. But there is no point lying to you."

"True. I promise to ask permission beforehand."

"Before what?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

He was much closer to her now.

"I felt it," he whispered to her. Her rage.

Her head drew back suddenly as she remembered what his vampire gift was. "Oh."

"I could help you with that anger." Jasper had been very charismatic as a human and he turned that charm on Leah.

"Help?" her lip twisted. She almost growled her response, "I don't want you to wipe my emotions out. I don't want to stop feeling."

"Me either." He circled around her.

"I don't understand."

He admired the way she just admitted that. Too many people tried to pretend they understood when they didn't. "Imagine living with a family of puritans."


"You must abide by their strict moral code."

"Huh," she said, as she got it. It was a pretty apt description of the Cullens. "Deathless vampires."

Her head tilted as she followed him. "You want to feel," she said.

"Yes," he hissed.

Her arm shot out and stopped his stalking progress like a boom gate.

They both froze. Facing each other. Her hand against his upper arm.

"And what do I get out of this?" she asked him in a low voice. "If I feed you all my emotions? Is that how it works?"

"What do you need?" he asked.

She noticed that he said need and not want.

She was still holding his bicep and he could feel the heat of her hand like a brand on his arm. She smelt hot, too. It was the only way he could think to describe it.

Her nose wrinkled as his dead, sweet odour reached her.

He enjoyed her height. At six foot three he towered over Alice who was a lot less than five feet. She was nicknamed a pixie for good reason. But the top of Leah's head was level with his chin. The idle thought that they could fuck standing up, crossed his mind.

An unguarded emotional spike hit Leah. It was lust and it was his.

She blinked.

"I apologize," Jasper said, knowing he had been careless and that they were too proximate. He almost chuckled at the thought that her manners comment had been on the mark.

"That… t-that's what I need," she said.


"It is?" That, he had not been expecting. He assumed she had a pack of wolf men to do her bidding. At least, the ones who were not emotionally bound to their mates should have been available to satisfy her. She was the pack female.

"Do you object?" She looked as if she'd be offended if he did.

"No, I just assumed you had other offers."

Her chin lifted. "No."


"No." She almost spat the word.

He gave her an eye fuck and then licked his lips.

She noticed.

He hastened to add, "I do not object. Not at all," he reassured her. "But… is there an issue with wolf and vampire?"

"Your bite is poisonous to us. What about… other body fluids?"

That comment went straight to his cock as he imagined her drinking him down. "I don't know."

She glanced down as if she heard it expand against his jeans. Perhaps she did. "What about Alice?" she asked. "I don't cheat."

Of course she didn't. The betrayal of Sam and Emily was what ate at her. She would not behave the same way.

"Alice and I have an open marriage. She likes some variety in her diet."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Alice loves shopping with the girls," he explained.

"I always wondered about her and Bella."

He chuckled. "Neither Bella nor the Cullens are aware of this."

"How does she hide that from them?"

He shrugged. "We both take time away from the family when we need it."

"And you?" she asked.

He looked at with all the charm he could muster. "I have been a very good boy for such a long time. I deserve a treat."

"I've never been anyone's treat before," she said.

She was still holding his arm. She squeezed at his bicep; a press of heated fingers that made him wonder how hot it would feel for her to hold other things. Or to place them in her mouth?

The lust spike was intentional, that time.

She smiled. "Cheating."

He enjoyed that smile. "To answer the venom question, like snake venom to a human, I assume that drinking venom will not affect you… unless it can enter the bloodstream somehow." He reached out and slowly brushed down the back of her other hand with his fingers. "You don't have an ulcer, do you?"

"I could have… I worry enough." She shivered at the cold touch of his hard flesh. "So… it's a risk."

"Sex and death," he whispered to her.

"Hopefully just one," she whispered back. She nodded as if she had made a decision. "Let's find out."

She lifted his hand to his mouth, holding it with both of hers. They were very close together now. She was almost leaning against his body.

He frowned at her perplexed.

"One drop," she instructed, as she folded his other fingers in against his palm and left his index finger alone.

He lifted that hand and both of hers, to his mouth, pressed it to his teeth, and captured one drop of his venom on the tip of the finger. He held it out to her. It looked oddly like a child making a gun shape with his hand and the ammunition could be just as deadly to her.

Still with both hands, she drew his hand to her face. The silvery venom drop shook with the movement.

She was worried and excited. He could feel it.

But she swallowed nervously once, and then her eyes lifted to lock her gaze with his. Her dark brown eyes stared at the tawny gold of his. She pulled the hand closer and wrapped her lips around the venom laced fingertip.

The heat. He had a visceral reaction. She had to be ten degrees hotter than a normal human. And if she was going to die, she was going to go out having a good time. She didn't just lick the venom off; she sucked at his finger as if it were his cock in her mouth.

And his cock knew it.

He caressed down her body, from shoulder to hip in one long touch, ending with cupping her ass and pulling her in tight against him. He ground her against him as she sucked at his finger. He moved the cool fingers of his other hand to ascertain she was commando under those shorts. She shivered as he ghosted across the part of her body where the top of her thigh met the base of her buttock. He needed to know what that place was called.

He stroked the thumb of his other hand down her cheek before pulling his finger away from her eager lips.

She looked up at him with that passion he had felt earlier glowing in her eyes.

"Wait a minute or so," he suggested.


"Just to see if you feel anything?"

"I feel something," she said, as she pressed her body harder against his groin.

"I meant nausea or some kind of venom side effect."

"I'm fine."

"Yes, you are."

They stared at each other.

"I don't feel angry, now," she said.

"That wasn't me, I swear."

"I believe you."

He thought it was more likely that just for a minute someone had been paying her the attention that she so desperately craved. That was, in essence her problem. They all ignored her.

Her head turned suddenly and pulled away from him. "I hear a wolf."

Her hearing was better than his but he believed her. It wasn't an excuse. She felt disappointed and that was promising for him. "You should go… back over your side of the line. You don't want them to catch you here."

"And leave you with this?" She grabbed at the front of his jeans and squeezed.

He grunted. "I will have to deal with that myself."

"Now… that I would like to see." She oozed honesty.

He wanted her to see that, too. "We could meet again?" he suggested carefully.

"Leave it overnight?" she tried.

"Make sure there are no real side effects."

"I might have dreams."

"Will you tell me about them?"

"You don't sleep; so no dreams. I forgot." She shrugged. "Sorry."

He lifted her hand to his mouth again; this time to brush a kiss on the back of it like a good Southern gentleman. "Tomorrow," he promised her.

"I promise to be angry," she said.

He had almost forgotten that was the point of this exercise.

"I'll look forward to it." He nodded his head in a small bow.

She turned and dashed off through the forest. She waved at him as she ran backwards.

He found her number and sent her a text.

It's 3am and I still feel your hot mouth wrapped around my finger.

She sent back a shock emoticon. Two eyes and an open mouth. He got hard just looking at it.