It was the way she moved, the way she talked. Fuck, the way she smelt was enough to drive Paul crazy. She was unbearable. The only thing worse than the restraint he needed to show towards Bella when she was in LaPush was the restraint he needed to show around Black, the little prick that couldn't take a hint if it smacked him in the jaw.
In regards to Black the pack mind was both a blessing and a curse; he got to watch his girl without direct interaction, but each memory was tainted by the dick's own lusty desires.
That almost made Paul smile. As if that kid had a chance. She was a goddess, a devil, about as tempting as a glass of water placed in the Sahara. She was pure heat, pure sex and Paul was fucked if she was going to be landed by anyone else. First time he saw her he almost came, right there in front of his pack. The rain was being pissed down by the heavens and she was soaking, in tight jeans and a white top, and to top that with a cherry, she had no idea how she looked to the men around her.
Paul could see everything courtesy of his extended senses; her long, dark eyelashes caressing her cheeks, her white top – the top that haunted his every fantasy since – transparent in the downpour, showing each breast in their full glory.
God those breasts.
Paul had been around a bit, seen more than a couple of women naked thanks to his appetite for sex , and yet those breasts were in a whole different league. The way her wet hair clung to them… He hated that the others had been there, that Black has upset her, that he wasn't able to just pull her to him, wipe away her tears and fuck her until she was trembling.
Fuck he wanted her in ways he barely understood.
Naked from the waist up, he shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes before lighting up. A beacon in the dark of a Washington night, the flame illuminated his face for a brief moment before it was plunged, once again, in darkness.
Exhaling the smoke he knew he wasn't going to stand back any more, wasn't going to spare her from this intensity any more. He knew what he wanted and he was going to get it for himself. Unaware of her surprise guest, Paul watched her move round her room in those blue pyjamas, pony tail swishing behind her, so vulnerable and so desirable that the shifter couldn't take his eyes off her.
She was his prey, and the predator within him was ready. She wouldn't have a chance.