Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or these characters
I'm gonna wear you down
I'm gonna make you see
I'm gonna get to you, you're gonna give in to me
I'm gonna start a fire
You're gonna feel the heat
I'm gonna burn for you, you're gonna melt for me
My heart is set on you
I don't want no one else
And if you don't want me, I guess I'll be all by myself
~Lyrics from Give in to Me by Garrett Hedlund and Leighton Meester~
If she hears the double meaning in his words, or the twinge of desperation when his voice cracks, she doesn't show it. She swallows thickly and presses her lips together until their subtle pinkness turns almost as colorless as her pale skin. His hand is pressed against the car door as he leans over her, his dark eyes open, and their naked vulnerability stabs her heart.
She hesitates; he sees it, senses it. It's all the encouragement he needs, and his next words pour out.
"Please, Bells." His voice is soft and pleading, and she has to fight to keep the sob from breaking through her chest, from him breaking through the crumbling wall she's kept up between them.
"Don't go. Stay. For Charlie," he pauses, as if weighing some big decision, then continues in this voice that breaks her heart, "For me."
She isn't sure even when it happened. Or how. Or why, in this moment, she comes to the realization of it. Why it feels both like a punch to the gut and like some sort of reprieve.
She doesn't even realize she's crying until his warm hands cup her face, his calloused thumbs gently, tenderly, achingly softly stroking her cheeks.
"Shhh..." he whispers, leaning forward. His warm breath caresses her face just before his lips land to the side of her mouth, soft, chaste and gentle. He doesn't move-he stays, his face pressed against hers and his hands still framing her face.
He doesn't kiss her.
He doesn't slide his lips that millimeter over to hers, even though he's dying to. Even though, only moments ago, in that pale yellow kitchen, against the cracked countertops, he knows she would have let him.
He can't bear for this moment to have anything—anything—to do with that goddamn bloodsucker.
"Jake," she lets out in a breathy whisper, and even without his sensitive hearing, he can her the catch in her voice, the acceleration of her heart, thrumming against his own. He shifts, just slightly, and her sharp intake of breath tells him she'd let him now too. Except her words say something else. "I can't just—"
"Bella." He cuts her off, nearly growling at her as he pulls away—and it's so fucking hard to do. His eyes are dark and narrowed when he locks them on hers, which are wide and watery, like melting chocolate. His voice softens; he drops his hands from her face, running one through his short black hair, and letting out a frustrated sigh. "Just listen, please."
She doesn't answer.
"Don't you see, Bells? How can it be so clear to me, to everyone, and like mud to you? He left you. He abandoned you. And now you're just going to… what? Run off after him? Stop him from pulling some Romeo bullshit?" Jacob raises his voice, his anger and resentment and bitter hatred pouring out. "Let me give you a fucking clue, Bells. Romeo and Juliet died. There was no happily ever after. Is that what you're planning? If you go there, you'll—"
He cuts himself off as his whole body starts to vibrate, his shape blurry and hands trembling. He fights it, but he can feel the wolf pacing furiously in his chest, begging to be released from its cage. He walks away. An image of her cold, pale and lifeless, all the pink drained from her lips, the blush from her cheeks, but still talking and walking around like one of them causes a sharp sickness to punch him in the gut.
He walks away several paces; his bare feet barely register the cool dampness of the grass. Both his hands tug roughly at the inky strands of his hair, and he curses under his breath. The emotions burning through his system are all too much. He strikes the old tree in the front yard, his knuckles busting open, bloody and ragged from the force of the blow.
"Jake!" Bella screeches, rushing over to him. But he doesn't even hear her, just hangs his head, rubbing his palms over his face. She tentatively touches his arm, the muscles twitching and trembling beneath her hand. He turns around. Hot, wet tears streak down his russet cheeks. He grabs her hand and presses her fingers into the soft fabric of his black t-shirt just above his heart.
His voice is a rough, broken whisper, and every line of his face softens as he speaks to her, pleads with her to just give in to him. The normally cloudy sky is open and clear; the twinkling, glimmering stars sparkle in his dark ebony eyes. If there has ever been a moment she could see how much he really loved her, it's now.
"Bella, please. You don't have to choose me. I'm not asking that. In fact, I'll walk away right now. It'll devastate me, but I'd do it. For you. If I knew that's what you really wanted. But don't go. Don't go walking into the lion's den after someone—" He takes a deep breath, trying keep his voice even and steady even though the tears are freely falling now, staining his skin and breaking her heart. He's still trembling too, but she's not sure it's from holding the wolf back anymore.
"Jake, I—" she begins.
"Bella, can't you feel that? My heart beats for you. If you go, right now, you'll break it; you'll hurt Charlie, your mom, my dad, even the pack. Can you tell me he's worth giving all that up? He left you once, Bella. I never have. I never will."
She just stares at him for a long time. The minutes seem to stretch out into an eternity. The air between them is alive with tension. Her brows knit together, as if she's trying to solve a riddle.
And then, all at once, she fists her hand in his shirt and pulls him to her, their lips crashing together. He stumbles forward. It takes him a second to respond, but then his hands come up to her face, his hot skin burning against her flushed cheeks and his fingertips tangling in her wavy hair. One hand slips, cupping the back of her neck as her lips part, surrendering to him. His other hand drops from her face, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against him.
"I love you," he murmurs against her lips. She pulls away then, her dark eyes more open and clear and surer than he's ever seen them.
"Jake, I love you too," she answers, surprised at how steady her own voice is, and how true and perfect and right and easy the words felt slipping off her tongue. She pulls him back to her, roughly yanking on his shirt. With tears still gathered in the corner of her eyes, she manages a sexy smirk, whispering in a low, husky voice, "Now take me upstairs. Make me yours."
His lips capture hers again, this time hungrier. His hands skim down her sides, and she can feel his heat seeping through the cotton of her shirt. He grips her thighs, hitching her legs to his waist, and carries her back inside the house.
Bella doesn't even turn to look and see that Alice and Carlisle's shiny black Mercedes had already left.
His shirt was the very first article of clothing to be removed; from the moment they walked into her bedroom, after he kicked the door shut, he lay her down on the bed, and she had demanded it. Her voice was so low and raspy he barely recognized it.
Her room is lit only by moonlight, and its paleness makes her eyes and skin luminescent. He pulls the shirt over her head, his gaze darkening as he takes in the curves of her breasts. He swallows hard, his nervousness showing through when he goes to unbutton her jeans and his hands shake. She blushes a bright, beautiful, alluring pink, which stretches from the apples of her cheeks, blossoms across her chest, and spreads down to her navel.
He pulls and tugs her jeans off, his hands shaky and fumbling with the button of his. Somehow, once he's removed all clothes and settled himself between her thighs, the feel of her soft silky skin beneath his fingertips and her sweet, heady scent makes his nerves disappear, and it's all he can do to slow down and not just claim her like every single fiber in his being is instinctually urging him to do.
His lips ghost along the smooth skin of her collarbone, softly, reverently kissing every bare inch of skin he can. As slow and easy as conceivable with the amount of lust and desire rushing through his veins, he pushes himself inside her. She clings to his biceps, her nails cutting into his flesh, and he has to bite his lip, his hands firmly gripping her hips to keep from slamming into her hard and fast.
His thrusts become surer, faster, harder, with each breathy moan she makes and each time his name falls from her parted pink lips. His head falls to her neck, his lips brushing against her skin. She cries out as her thighs begin to tremble, her heart stutters, and she shatters like glass, coming apart in his arms. He can't hold out even if he tries with the sensations of her warm, wet, tight flesh wrapped around him, her cries drowned out by the heavy beat of her heart, and his rapid breaths.
He collapses, rolling to the side and pulling her against his chest. He buries his face in her hair, choking on the emotions pouring through him.
"Don't leave me," he manages to whisper into her skin.
She wraps her arms around him, whispering softly into his salty skin, "I won't."
A/N: Thanks to jkane180 for being an awesome beta! Thanks to wordslinger (she's my evil twin)! And to kissa_621 for pre-reading! And to all the love and support from my pack of wolf girls on twitter. Y'all rock.