As the concert carries on, the audience dwindles. Lauren, Jessica and Mike leave while the rest of us decide to stay a little longer. Edward and I continue to sway behind our friends, but my attention has drifted far from the music. My thoughts are consumed with the revelations that Rosalie disclosed tonight, and I can't stop myself from looking for Jake every few seconds.
My heart plummets to my stomach when I finally spot him. I wish I hadn't.
I haven't seen him in over an hour, and I kept wondering if he'd gone off somewhere with Paul to break the law again. It didn't escape my attention that he and Paul were in the parking lot when we ran into them. Could that be an inconsequential coincidence or were they-–at the risk of sounding ridiculous– casing the area? But then I think about the rocker chick walking toward Jake and how I practically handed him over to her on a silver platter when I left, which makes me wonder if he's off somewhere with her right now instead. And can someone please tell me why that feels like the worse of the two options? Because I sure as hell can't figure it out!
So, let's call it intuition (or just plain masochism) because somehow I knew, I knew he was with her and yet I still searched for him.
The crowd dispersed just right and suddenly he's in my view, my breath catching and stomach dropping at the sight. His hands smoothly roam up and down the other girl's sides, touching nearly every inch of her torso and narrowly missing the sections that would make this an R-rated viewing. I can't seem to tear my eyes away from them, watching with torturous fascination as his hand drifts lower down her hip. It's practically resting on her pelvis while she grinds her ass into his front in a pretense of dancing.
I want to go over there and rip her away from him as badly as I wanted to tear into Lauren before. Stomping my foot and throwing a temper tantrum seems like a pretty good idea as well, so maybe I'm not at my most level-headed right now. But crap.
Why is he doing this to me? Does he even care if I see him with her?
Yeah, okay, maybe I don't have a right to be feeling so…so cheated, because technically I chose to be here cuddling with my boyfriend instead of going with Jake, but can I at least plead temporary insanity? Because seeing him with her? It makes everything in me a jumbled up, distorted mess. It's basically impossible to describe exactly how I feel right now. More importantly, I can't explain why it is I'm doing what I'm doing… which is pressing my body into Edward's while forcing his hands to glide against my hips and around to my lower abdomen.
The longer I stare at Jake and that girl, the more irritated I become. He hasn't looked my way, not once. Instead, he curls his body around her, his head dipped down-–probably so he can whisper who-knows-what into her ear. It's not like I want to know what he's saying (as if I could fool myself into thinking that. Of course, I want to know!). Whatever it is, it has her biting her lip and smiling up at him as she skillfully slips down the front of his body and back up in one of those sexy dance moves.
Before I know it, I find myself almost mirroring the other girl's provocative actions, my hips rocking softly against Edward's while I lean my head back onto his shoulder. His fingers dig more firmly into my skin as I hear a faint groan of approval.
Ha! Take that!
Closing my eyes and mentally shaking myself, I realize that I'm obviously not thinking clearly right now either. Maybe I should just claim insanity and lose the "temporary," because apparently, jealousy causes me to turn into a total lunatic who completely loses control of her actions!
So let's use that as an excuse for why I can't stop watching Jake and his date, shall we?
The other girl twists in his arms. Great, now she's rubbing her breasts against his chest. My teeth clench so hard together they hurt, and I have to force my eyes closed for a moment just to try to calm down. You're with Edward, I tell myself. You're nothing but a bet to Jake. He has every right to do what he wants, with whoever he wants. Somehow, I've lost track of how this pep talk was supposed to be helpful.
When I reopen my eyes, things have actually gotten worse. Jake's hand is on her thigh, lifting her leg up so it's wrapped around his hip. His palm moves precariously close to her rear and right now, if looks could kill he'd be falling down dead from my hard glare. Yet he lives, tilting his head slightly in my direction and smirking… almost as if…
It's almost as if he knows I'm watching them and is purposefully trying to make me jealous! Or more accurately, he's showing me exactly what I'm missing out on.
I know it's petty and stupid, so I have no idea why I'm doing it but it's like my actions have a spiteful mind of their own. Shaking my ass for the world to see isn't exactly something I've done before, but having already given up on my sanity, I don't think much more of it as I begin to grind. Making myself look sexy on the other hand-–well, at least I'm trying. Slowly raising my arms I go to hook them around Edward's neck in a sensual manner but end up smacking him in the jaw instead.
Immediately I turn around, my hands fluttering up to his face, "Oh, Edward! I'm sorry!"
God, I feel so foolish, my cheeks burn and my eyes cut quickly to Jake and back. It's only a glance but even though he's still facing forward, I swear it looked like he was laughing. Or maybe I'm just imagining things.
"I'm sorry." I say again, tilting Edward's chin up to reveal the redness. Feeling terrible, I lean forward carefully brushing my lips against the sore spot of his jaw. I quickly feel the ridiculous need to cry. I don't know what the hell's wrong with me. It's got to be some kind of emotional overload from the complexities of the last few hours that have turned me into a complete and utter wreck.
Placing both hands around my wrists, Edward lowers them down, forcing me to look back at him. "Babe, it's okay. I'm fine."
Sweetly, he leans forward, placing a lingering kiss to my lips before pulling me in and allowing me to lay my cheek to his chest.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears from forming, and am unable to stop myself from checking on Jake again. While the girl in Jake's arms still sashays to the music, he's dropped her leg, his hands simply resting on her hips. Most importantly, he's finally looking directly at me. However, the expression on his face is one that I've become increasingly familiar with-–anger.
He raises one eyebrow, angling his chin in a way that I can only interpret as a challenge.
I don't like that idea at all.
His attention returns to the girl, his fingers wrapping around her hair and tilting her head back. Slowly, Jake dips his head lower, his lips descending to meet hers, ready and waiting for him. There's no doubt in my mind that he kisses her fully and passionately but I can't watch. Right as his lips begin to meet hers, I drop my eyes to the ground.
Edward's fingers ghost along the length of my hair, and I wonder, has he been doing that the whole time I've been hugging him? Tilting my head up so my chin rests on his chest, I look up into the eyes of the sweetest guy I've ever known. The small diamond pendant around my neck suddenly feels very heavy.
"I'm sorry, Edward." My heart aches with the words, their meaning too heavy for him to fully understand.
"I'm fine, Bella. You really don't pack that hard of a punch." He smiles in an attempt to make me feel better.
"No, not that." My emotions are muddled, conflicted, and confused-–my thoughts too. This is probably why I whispered an apology without thinking in the first place.
His brows furrow, "Then what?"
Part of me says I should tell him the truth but the bigger part is too afraid of the consequences. I shake my head and cover, "I'm just really tired. Would you mind taking me home?"
"Course not. I'll do whatever you want." He kisses me on the nose and takes my eyes dart across to Jake and the rocker chick, only to see that they're already gone.
Trudging across my bedroom, I carefully deposit Edward's jacket on the chair, my fingers affectionately sweeping over the white letters that make up his name.
Not bothering to look for pajamas, I simply remove my jeans and bra, leaving on my long button-down shirt and panties. I'm exhausted, and crawl into bed feeling no better than I did an hour ago.
Tossing and turning, I realize I'm too restless for sleep. Why can't I stop thinking about him? Is he out breaking the law with his brother again? Is he…with her? He left with her-–I'm sure of it-–just as I left with Edward. And that's okay. It's what I chose and what I wanted because no matter how I feel when I'm with him, he'll never see me as more than a bet. Which is probably why he's off with that girl right now doing-
My fingers clasp around my necklace. Think about Edward. Edward who's good to me and loves me. My wonderful boyfriend who's in danger of being taken from me, not only by the two-faced bitch Lauren, but also by my own stupid actions. Edward, who I cheat on because I'm too caught up in a bet with someone so intoxicating that I find myself liking him, even against my better judgment!
What if–while I'm too preoccupied with Jake-–Lauren succeeds and Edward cheats on me?
Wouldn't that be fitting? my rude voice quips, my stomach lurching at the thought. Tonight at least taught me one thing: I can't stand the idea of losing Edward. When I saw Lauren with her claws in him earlier, I could've killed someone.
Except, didn't I feel the same way when I saw Jake with that girl? The way he went to kiss her in retaliation (and quite possibly to feed on the jealousy he knew very well that I felt) has me going crazy. An image of him with her comes unbidden to my mind-–their lack of clothing a detail that I want to shove as far from my mind as possible.
Try to think of something else. Like the law breaking thing. Although, I'm not certain of Jake's part in it. Just because his brother was arrested for stripping cars doesn't mean he's done it too. He isn't guilty by association even if part of Rosalie's story does seem remarkably familiar. To be fair, he could be out late doing other things like…like…
Apparently my mind is a torturous bitch because it conjures up the image of Jake kissing that girl again. Not only that, but they're rolling around in a bed somewhere, both shirtless and panting. My conflicting emotions build with the images, crashing and mixing together until I'm so frustrated that I grab my pillow and hurl it across the room. It hits the wall with a soft thump and bounces just enough that when it falls onto my dresser it takes half the contents sitting on top with it. My lamp, alarm clock, pictures and various other knickknacks clatter noisily to the floor. Reaching for a second pillow, I hold it up and bury my face to muffle the scream. This one I drop next to me instead of throwing, while I wait for Charlie to come barging in, demanding to know what the ruckus was. But he never comes. He must be in a dead sleep to have not heard all that!
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I press my forehead to them. Why can't I stop thinking about him when he obviously doesn't care about me?
A small creak from the direction of my window causes my head to snap up immediately. The curtains billow slightly and suddenly he's there.
Standing in my room every bit as dark and intimidating as ever.
Is it crazy that I feel so relieved?
"Jake!" I flinch, lowering my voice to a whisper, "What are you doing here?"
He flashes me a roguish smile, "Came to make up."
My lips part and produce a scoff-like sound made partly in gasp but mostly in indignation. I know what those words mean, what he's saying he came for.
"Are you insane? What makes you think that I even want…" I can't possibly bring myself to say what he really wants, so I repeat his innuendo, "to make up with you?"
He laughs without sound, the kind that's really just a condescending puff of air as he stalks further into my room. It's the equivalent of saying "Sure, Princess, go ahead and tell yourself that." I don't even argue because I'm already afraid that I've lost the fight.
By now, my eyes have adjusted fairly well to the light. It doesn't hurt that I have multiple alarm clocks illuminating the room either. Okay, so technically one of those alarm clocks is lying somewhere on my bedroom floor, blacked out after its tragic death-by-flying-pillow. But the point is, my room has a faint green and red glow from the various devices, plus there's a decoration of tulle covered Christmas lights framing my shelf in the corner. The lighting is actually kind of…romantic.
Oh God. I'm so screwed.
Jake's eyes sweep over the mess on the floor, one eyebrow rising as he looks to me in silent question. I'm still internally freaking out about everything else right now so I just shrug in answer. His gaze catches on my desk chair where Edward's jacket lays on display. The muscle in his jaw twitches.
"He asked me to." I force my chin up defiantly, "And I like wearing it."
"Like it?" Jake scoffs. Ripping off his leather jacket he forcefully throws it onto the chair, effectively covering the other one. "When I'm through with you, Princess, you won't give a shit about it." He moves quickly. Within an instant his weight is dipping down the side of the bed, his fingers forcefully threading through my hair and tipping my head back so my eyes lock with his. Power and dominance exude from every pore in his body as he growls, "That's a promise."
His lips slant across mine before I even have the chance to speak.
I should push him away, kick him out of my bed-–my room, but the truth is... I want it. I want him. Having him here with me causes my heart to quicken and butterflies to take flight. Knowing that he could be doing something else with someone else yet he chooses to be here with me? It's-–it's… liberating.
I can feel my thoughts slipping away as he coaxes my lips apart, his tongue meeting mine in a languid caress. The bed springs shift and I'm too preoccupied to care, because for the life of me, I can't figure out why I'd want to open my eyes. My hands wind around his neck as he slowly lays me down on the pillows, his lips never leaving mine.
The blankets tug around my waist, and I realize that he's moving them out from under him. He begins to lift them up, causing a gush of cool air to hit my bare legs.
My eyes pop open as I grip the sheet and pull it back down. Oh my God! How could I forget I'm not wearing any pants!
This dilemma seems to jog the fogginess out of my brain and somehow brings a semblance of clarity with it. Good Lord, what was I thinking? How is it that he kisses me and I forget even the most important of matters?
Jake doesn't seem at all phased by my sudden epiphany as he continues to kiss along my neck. I'd be lying if I said I didn't tilt my head back just enough to give him more access. Everything he does just feels so good!
But it's wrong. Oh so very wrong!
My body begs me not to stop him, but my head and my heart say otherwise. I just have too many questions-–too many contradicting emotions that are eating away at each other.
"Can I ask you a question?"
He moves so that he's hovering over me, his eyes are fixated on his fingers spreading open the collar of my shirt. Slowly, he trails them down over my breasts and stomach until they nearly reach the hem on my hip. A shiver runs through my body at the ghost of his touch. His wolfish grin spreads, "Now?"
I take a deep breath to keep my mind off his wandering hands and on my quest instead. "Please?"
Heaven knows why, but I flush. "Maybe more than one. It depends on your answer."
He bites his lip, his eyes hungrily roving down to my chest and up. I'm fully covered, but the way he's looking at me I don't feel like it.
"How 'bout this, Princess, we'll take turns. For every question you ask, I get one too." His stare finally snaps from my chest to my eyes. "Deal?"
I nod quickly. At this point I'd agree to nearly anything if it gets me some answers.
Start simple, Bella. "Paul was arrested?"
The muscle jumps in his jaw as he clenches his teeth, his fingers momentarily stopping their ministrations on my side. Okay, maybe not so simple. This may be a sore subject. He gruffly bites out the words, "That didn't sound like a question."
"It was… just a yes or no one."
He takes a deep breath, his eyes moving to the headboard above me. For a minute, I don't think he's planning on answering, but right as I'm coming to terms with disappointment, he fists my shirt and grounds out a quick, "Yeah."
Reflexively, my hand rises to calm him, itching to touch his cheek and lightly brush over the stubble of his jaw. Instead, it hovers in mid-air. He seems far away in his thoughts. The wall that he places between us-–the one that I can sometimes crack through–is firmly in place now. I briefly wonder if all my questions will keep it there, or if I'll be able to slowly chip away at it until it falls. My own on the other hand has long since crumbled. One simple glance or touch from Jake and my guard effectively drops, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in its wake.
"It's your turn." I quietly remind him.
His eyes come back to me, his expression serious. "Did Doucheward get you the necklace?"My hand drops to my throat, the teardrop pendant still hangs by the delicate chain. I don't have to answer as he huffs. "Diamonds. Fucking figures."
Cheeks burning a little brighter, I move on, ignoring his comment. I'm determined to get some real answers out of him. "Why was Paul arrested?"
"Maybe we should stick to the yes and no answers, Princess."
My frustrated and unladylike grunt does nothing to dissuade him. "Fine," I rephrase, "Rose said he was arrested for stripping cars. Is that true?"
"Are all these questions going to be about my brother?"
"Good, I thought maybe you were developing a crush."
Yeah right. I'm having a hard enough time juggling Edward and Jake. I can't even contemplate adding a third guy into the mix. No, thank you.
"You're deflecting the question. Was that why he went to jail?"
He snaps back angrily, "Don't ask what you already know."
"But I don't! I just want to know the truth!"
"Truth?" He spits. "Here's the fucking truth! Paul spent six months in the county jail for doing what he had to."
His eyes shift to my necklace, "We can't all afford diamonds, Princess."
"So he stole car parts for money?"
He gives one curt shake of the head, "It's my turn." The angry glint still lingers in his eyes even as he smirks down at me. "Have you gotten off since your first time with me?"
The color floods to my face. Honestly, I tried once by myself but I just…couldn't. Jerkily, I shake my head, too embarrassed to audibly answer. His smirk grows into a wicked smile as his fingers tighten their grip on my waist, his hips pressing harder against my covered thigh.
Stay on track, Bella.
"Ha-have you ever stolen parts with him?"
He's unashamed as he answers, "Yes. You gonna tell on me, Princess?"
"No! I wouldn't—"
"How do I know that? How do I know that you're not gonna rush to Daddy's room and tell him everything the minute I leave?"
"I couldn't do that without him knowing you were here. I'm not supposed to socialize with you, remember? Let alone have you in my bed." My voice breaks on the last word, the implications of that sentence saying more than I ever could.
Jake smiles in a way that tells me he already knew my answer. His eyes lift to the closed door, something sinister flashing behind them. I realize he only wanted me to reiterate the reasons I couldn't tell as a reminder to myself. I'd be annoyed, if it weren't for the fact that his attention comes back to me, in the form of his lips pressing against my jaw, hotly kissing just below my ear.
"So the night of the party," I begin, fighting to keep my eyes from closing, "when Quil said you had a 'job' that meant you guys were going to strip cars?"
He barely detaches his lips from my neck, "Does it matter?"
"Yes! You could've been caught!"
"Worried about me, Princess?"
"Don't you want to learn from your brother's mistakes instead of remaking them?" Oh crap. I know the minute it comes out of my mouth it was the wrong thing to say.
He lifts himself up, his hands pressing me further into the mattress as he stares down at me. His fierce expression holds me exceptionally still, "There's no goddamn choice. But what the fuck would you know? A princess who gets diamonds and new fucking cars for her birthday. You don't know the first thing about sacrifice."
"Maybe if you told me—"
"Tell you what? How Paul gave up everything for us? How he quit school so I wouldn't have to? Took a full time job because my deadbeat father drowned his feeling in a bottle after my mom died? My dad became a useless piece of shit who was too fucking drunk to go to work. He quit paying the fucking bills and didn't give a shit about what happened to us. If it wasn't for Sam I don't know where the fuck we'd be. He was the only fucking guy in town who'd hire a high school dropout at sixteen."
It's like the air has been ripped out of my lungs. I know I'm staring up at him like a gaping fool but I-–I just don't know how to react.
Jake on the other hand seems to calm down considerably after letting it all out. "Not what you expected?"
I start shaking my head, but then the initial shock wears off as a few of the things he said begin turning in my mind. If Paul was sixteen when he started working at the garage, maybe it makes sense why he'd be desperate enough to steal for extra money to support his brother, but now that Jake works there too… "Why do you do it?"
"Get back to the yes or no questions, Princess."
"Fine. Are you ever going to stop?"
He rolls his eyes and says firmly, "No."
"But why? You couldn't possibly still need the money. It's been years and you both work at the garage now; isn't that enough?"
"You think you have this all figured out, huh? That we're just a bunch of greedy sons of bitches who do it for the fucking thrill?"
"No, that's not what I—"
"Do you think we want to do it? You think Embry wants to take hot money home to his mom? Her disability check can't pay for half the things they need, so he does what he has to just like the rest of us. You think Jared can afford to go to school full-time and feed his girlfriend and kid? Quil's the only fucking idiot who does it for fun."
"What about you?"
He shakes his head, "You're not following the rules." Dipping his chin to whisper into my ear, "I like that. But it's my turn now…" His eyes go back to his fingers, watching as they trail down my cheek, neck, collar and lower. This distracting thing he's doing? It totally works. Remind me to cross Interrogation Officer off my future career list. He sweeps the tips of his fingers subtly over the swell of my breasts, the thin fabric of my shirt not offering any help in lessening the shockwaves that flow through me as he passes over the sensitive flesh. "Do you like this?"
"Is that your next question?"
He shrugs. I take that as his acquiescence and nod because I do like it. It's uncharacteristically sweet and romantic at the same time that it's a little bit naughty.
"How about this?" He pinches the hardened bud, causing my breath to catch in a loud gasp. My hands fist his shirt in an attempt to regain some kind of control.
I'm too self-conscious to answer, but he doesn't seem to care as his fingers move slowly to the top button of my shirt, popping it opened.
His eyes search mine, a devilish expression dancing behind them. "Is this okay?"
I don't stop him, but I try to elude the question, "You complain that I don't follow the rules. That's three in a row for you. Isn't it my turn?"
"We already know I'm a rule-breaker, Princess. And technically that was a question so it's my turn again." The second button slips through the hole, my top now lying precariously open, yet still covering me. He smiles as I shiver, his fingers sensually sliding down the valley of my breast in their pursuit of the next button. "You want me to keep going." It isn't a question, and even if it was it wouldn't matter, because he's right. "Your body is begging me to keep going. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you wrap yourself around me. You want me."
Still not a question. Is he expecting an answer?
By now he's on the last button of my shirt, his hands feeling like fire on my bare abdomen. My breathing is labored and erratic.
"I'm going to open this now." Again, it's neither a request nor a command, just a statement to which he's allowing me the option of disagreeing. I consider it, but the intensity of his gaze and the feel of his body against mine counter any rebuttal I could've had. My heart pounds like mad. Eyes locked on his expression, I watch him carefully while he folds over the fabric of my shirt, first uncovering one side then the other, baring my chest to him.
"Fuck," he groans as an icy fire rushes through my veins, my blood running both hot and cold under his gaze.
"Do you like me?" I blurt unexpectedly surprising even myself.
"Like this?" He doesn't take his eyes off my breasts. "Fuck yeah."
That's not what I meant. Discomfited, I go to cover myself back up but his hands are faster, shifting so he's lying directly over me and pinning my arms down. He slowly raises them above my head, crossing my wrists so he can hold them hostage in one hand, leaving the other free to glide down the ticklish side of my arm. His eyes find mine, "Has Doucheward ever seen you like this?"
Bringing up Edward is the worst possible thing he could have done. My stomach churns, my heart hurts and my guilt resurfaces with a vengeance. Wiggling beneath him, I try to free my wrists and halt everything that's going on between us, but his grip is unyielding.
"Fair game, Princess. I answer your questions, you answer mine." Thickly swallowing, I realize he's right. He made up the rules, but I agreed to play. He's just obviously better at it than me. Jake's fingers curl around my chin, tilting it up and forcing me to look at him, a territorial gleam in his eyes. "Has he?"
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and nod.
"He can't do what I can." The next thing I know, there's a warm wetness caressing my chest. Hair tickles my neck as Jake continues dropping open-mouthed kisses diagonally until his lips are closed over one pert bud. A squeak sounds from the back of my throat while his tongue dances over my breast. My fingers curl tightly into one another. They have nowhere else to go, still locked down by his iron hold.
He kisses back up my neck, his voice rough when he speaks. "Like that?"
The answer is yes but I'm too flustered to speak. There's a hint of a smile in his voice as he reminds me, "Your turn, Princess."
"Right." Clearing my throat, I try to focus, thinking about what else I wanted to ask him. A horrible thought comes to my mind, making me feel like I've been doused in ice cold water. I want to cover myself up quickly. Tugging my hands I spit out the words, "You were with another girl tonight."
"You were with another guy." The nauseous feeling returns to my stomach, and I pull harder on my wrists. He finally relents and allows me to cover myself back up.
"You kissed her."
"You kissed him."
"But you left with her!"
He narrows his eyes, "You left with him."
"But I-I didn't do anything else with him."
I shake my head, "Nothing."
"I got you something." A playful smile tugs at his lips. The hand on my stomach begins circling under my shirt, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the bottom of my breasts. I'm about ninety percent sure that he's switching gears to distract me again, but for the first time I welcome it. I don't really want to know the truth. I want to believe that he didn't do anything with that girl other than the one kiss I (sort of) witnessed, and if he did, I don't want to know what it was. I'm so tired of feeling terrible, of worrying and over-analyzing everything. I don't want to think about him with her anymore, or me with Edward. I just want to spend this time with him and enjoy it even though I know I shouldn't.
"You did?" Suspicion forms in the back of my mind as I wonder if he's using some kind of innuendo.
He shifts onto his side. Digging his hand into his pocket, he produces a fist, the gift presumably hidden inside. His cynicism is present even when being generous, "I was going to give it to you earlier, but you refused to leave with me."
He drops the item into my waiting palm. I hold it up, trying to get a good look at it in the weak light. Hanging on a keychain is a model of a red, '63Chevy pickup truck. In what I presume to be his handwriting is the word Princess artfully painted in white across the hood. It's a little bigger than a Hot Wheels toy and infinitely more precious. I continue to stare at the gift, completely at a loss for words.
"Look, I know it's not a fuckin' diamond but I thought—"
"Oh, Jake, this is better than a diamond. It actually means something."
Of course, he looks pretty proud of himself after that. Not that he shouldn't be. It really is amazing. I'm still stunned that he gave me a gift, let alone something so thoughtful.
"Guess I just thought you deserved to have your truck back. Even if it is on a keychain."
"Thank you, this is…" But I don't know how to put into words exactly what it means. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I slip my hands around his neck and bring him down to me, hoping instead that I can convey the feeling I could never verbalize. My lips barely brush against his in a sweet caress, tilting my head slightly they meet again this time slanting with a firmer pressure. My eyes close, his hand clasping around my ribs and arching me closer, causing half of my shirt to fall open again.
Jake wastes no time as he groans into my mouth, his hand traveling back down my side and beneath the blankets, running along my hip. They hesitate when they meet my panties before venturing further to my bare thigh.
He breaks away, his eyes heated, "Fuck, Princess, are you trying to kill me?"
Don't ask me where it comes from, but a flirtatious smile builds. "Maybe."
There's no time for me to react as the blankets are ripped away from my body. The cool air hits and his hands are there, feeling every inch of exposed skin, from my thighs to my stomach and up to my uncovered breasts. His eyes roam greedily over my body and though I feel exposed, it's also empowering.
That look he's giving me? I put it there. I have the ability to make him lose control just as he does me.
Guiding him to my lips again, I kiss him ardently, nearly crazed for more of him. My fingertips sneak beneath his t-shirt, tip-toeing up each one of his defined abs. There's no need to ask what I want, but I still whine in protest as he removes himself in order to take off his shirt. His cocky half-smile is proof of just how happy he is with himself for eliciting such a noise from me. But I can't bring myself to care, because he's back, his lips on mine and I'm eagerly arching my back, pressing my half-naked torso against his. And it feels incredible.
His lips attack at my throat, his one hand in my hair, the other on my hip supporting me and holding me tightly against him. Hot breath flows down my neck, teeth scratch at my collarbone and then there's a shooting sensation going from my breast to every nerve ending in my body. His tongue soothes the bite he just gave my sensitive bud causing another jolt of pleasure.
My breath catches when fingers slip over the cotton of my panties, partly in excitement and partly fear. We've gone so far already. Should I stop him?
He speaks first, eliminating my previous thought, "Do you want me to make good on my promise?"
My face heats. Oh God, am I supposed to answer? Is he still playing the question game?
I've thought about this ever since he promised it inside of the shed. I've imagined it but now that the moment is here and he's asking… An unintelligible sound emits from my throat.
"Is that a yes?" He smirks, his fingers brushing harder against my panties causing a pressure to build between my legs that I've never felt before but I know what it is. My body is begging him to give me more. He shifts over me, his lips brushing against my jaw as he does and his bare chest rubbing against mine. A soft whimper finds its way out of me, the feel of our naked skin still electric. Smiling, his eyes drift down to look between us, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic of my underwear.
A shift in the wind leads to a creak sounding by the window, his head snaps up to the door apparently unaware of where the noise originated. A dark look passes over his features, "Any chance Daddy'll check on you?"
I almost sit up. I would have if it wasn't for his two hundred pound body literally pinning me to my bed. My brain thankfully plays catch up and remembers the loud racket I made throwing the pillow earlier. If Charlie were to wake up that would've been the time.
I shake my head, "I don't think so."
I'm unable to process the implications of that as his lips suction themselves to mine. He starts off slowly, his mouth leisurely working against mine, before turning more passionate and effectively immobilizing any functioning brain cells I had left.
Fluidly his chest glides against my own, dropping open mouth kisses on his way south he stops to take my breasts into his mouth once more, his fingers at last sliding fully between my legs. As he did before, one digit touches the wetness and then strokes it upward. Except this time, two sensations strike me at once. My skin feels like it's on fire as his fingers and mouth stimulate shockwaves between the two areas that in turn shoot through every inch of my body.
Before long I'm panting, my head thrashing and "Oh," I'm on the brink of something.
Stopping his ministrations he removes his hand and breaths damply against my skin, "Not yet, Princess." Drifting lower, his eyes become level with my panties as he looks up at me from under his lashes.
The elastic band curls under his fingers, slowly bunching around my hips-–then the words tumble out.
"May-Maybe I should lock the door."
He grins wickedly, "Leave it. The suspense is half the fun."
Not allowing me time to disagree, he places an open mouth kiss just below my descending panty line, his mouth trailing down at the same speed as my underwear.
Then his tongue is right there, licking over the most sensitive part of me. It's wet and oh, so weird.
I can feel his lips curve up right before he pulls away, his eyes briefly flitting to mine then returning to his task of removing my underwear completely. Sitting up, he allows his fingers to ghost along my legs until his task is done and I'm laying nearly naked in front of him. This is the most exposed I've ever been, laying in front of him topless and open. I'm utterly terrified.
Jake's warm hands slide up and down from my calves to my thighs, my knees have somehow melded themselves together. "Princess?" My anxious eyes snap to his. "Relax." I try to, with his gaze still locked on mine I allow him to pry my legs apart. "You're going to love every moment of this. I promise."
His hands grip my hips and yank me a foot down the bed, his forearms somehow already tucked beneath my thighs and his face only inches away from my center. He's still staring at me intently, although a smirk has graced his lips "You know I always keep my promises."
A/N: Hey guys! I hope you really enjoy this latest chapter of BoM!
Please let me know what you think about this latest chapter, I know a lot seemed to happen in a short amount of time. So, what did you think of Jake and his date? Or Bella's ridiculous attempt at seductive dancing? Jake gave us a bit more information about himself and the others at the garage huh? And lastly, the ending...Really sorry about the stopping point and all... ;-)
Big thanks to my pre-readers BellabbBlack and evermineff! And huge thanks to meranaamjoker for her guest betaing! (You must check out her stories if you haven't already because she's pretty much my idol.)