She was cold and smelled too sweet, but Jacob didn't care. The only thing he cared about was the way her lips felt against his, the way her legs felt wrapped around his waist.

With her fingernails digging into his back, her lips trailing his neck, he could barely remember his name let alone the fact that they were supposed to be mortal enemies now.

He's too hot and smells like death, but Bella doesn't care. When his brown eyes look at hers, they aren't filled with pain and regret like Edward's and that's all she cares about right now. So, she clutches Jacob close and tries to forget.

He's rough and passionate in a way that Edward never could be. He grabs her, pulls her, needs her, in a way that Edward never did. He doesn't have to worry about breaking her because she's already broken.

She doesn't have to apologize for crossing imaginary boundaries because there are no boundaries between them, only fire and passion and the need for release now, now, now.

It's not the gentle, sweet, slow lovemaking she's known with Edward. It's wild, furious, almost animalistic. There are no soft touches or light kisses only hands grabbing desperately at one another and lips kissing everywhere and anywhere they can reach.

In that moment, they are not Virgos, vampires or werewolves, just Bells and Jake.

And neither of them cares who knows.