The Passing Years-11Heat

chapter theme: Jonny Lang: Touch

Greed streaked through Jacob like a hot blade, searing through logic and self-preservation. Gone were all the toosoontoolatetoomuch. The only word echoing in his mind as he pulled her close was moremineatlast.

His senses, overwhelmed.

His skin, inflamed.

He absorbed every sigh and gasp that she made, caught them between his lips and let it roll on his tongue, savoring each taste that washed over his senses.

He drew her in and drew her close.

There was no teasing, no persuasion, no gentle, kind words. The kiss was straightforward and to the point. It’s meaning unmistakable.

I. Want. You.

With no real effort, Jacob backed her up against the counter and with a quick movement of his hands, boosted her up, swallowing her gasp as he moved his body between her legs. With his lips still burning on hers, Jacob gripped her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the counter, pressing her flush against his chest. Her breath scalded his cheeks in surprise when he bit her bottom lip, his fingers fisting on the back of her shirt, threading in her long hair as he gulped her down with slow, greedy bites.

Jacob breathed in the scent that rose from her skin as her body heated up, felt her frantic heartbeat against his chest, heard it pound against his own. His heightened senses went haywire with the feel and taste of her, he could feel every strand of hair that grazed his sensitized skin, the flutter of her eyelashes upon his cheek, the slide of her soft body against his unrelenting one, the slick roll of her tongue against his.

The fact that she was kissing him back just as fiercely, just as fervently as he was kissing her should’ve surprised him, and it did…somewhere in the back of his mind.

But right now all he wanted was to take, possess, seize.

A low growl wrenched out of his throat when she arched against him, a sensual assault to his lessening sanity, spreading ripples of liquid heat that basked his insides and melted all semblance of reason.

Fingers clenched, pressed and fisted.

Mouths bit, grazed and smothered.

The heat that imploded in her stomach should’ve scared her, the suppressing strength of his body and hands should’ve also frightened her, but it didn’t. The moment Jacob’s lips pressed against hers, she was lost, drowned, swept away by the realization that this was Jacob; his scent, his taste, the feel of his body, familiar and welcome.

Everywhere he touched her, she burned. Her skin prickled to life and the weariness she felt earlier was dissipated by the sudden onslaught to her body. Her frantic heart went wild and she panted out his name when his blazing mouth devastated a path down her neck and sucked on her collarbone. Her thighs clamped restlessly on his hips when he swept a hand on one leg in a smooth long line of fire that seared her skin even through her jeans. His hands splayed on the small of her back underneath her T-shirt, and she swore she could feel the imprint of his fingerprints upon her skin. She tossed her head back in a long, drugged moan, her long hair streaming down her arched back, its edges almost reaching the surface of the gleaming counter. Her fingers dug into his broad shoulders when he drew a moist trail up her neck and back towards her mouth. Her body seemed to thrum like a tuning fork, and all she could breath in was hot, moist air, heady with his scent – musky, earthy male with a hint of fresh pine. He was all restless energy and bunching muscles under her hands and all the sensations that he created with the movement of his tongue and mouth and the press of his hands on her skin made her want to scream.

And the connection, that undeniable bond that pulled and pulsed between them, twisted her heart.

He tore himself from her lips with a harsh curse that made her eyes pop wide open, and with arms still around each other, they stared. Jacob tried to control his breathing, with little success, the intensity of the moment, the level position of their eyes too intimate, too intrusive. Slowly, silkily, he pressed a kiss on her lips before sweeping his hand up her back to curl at the back of her neck. He leaned away to watch the devastating affect of his touch in the glow of her eyes, in the way her breath shuddered.

His hand moved from the back of her neck to cradle her face, and while he stroked a thumb across her cheekbone, he watched her face soften.

“Well,” he murmured, “now that we’ve got that out of the way…”

Bella blinked in surprise and couldn’t help the burst of shocked laughter that was met by his wry smile. Once again wondering how weird it was that even after a sudden marauding of the senses like what had just happened, she could still wrap her arms around his neck and hold him to her in a move that was entirely affectionate and loving. But really, that was never their problem, was it? She laid her head on his shoulder, her face tucked against his neck, and sighed deeply.

“What are we going to do, Jake?”

His response to the whispered inquiry was to also wrap his hands around her, sweeping her hair away from her face. “We…live, I guess.”

Bella sighed against his chest, burrowing deep against the beat of his heart, which was still a little fast. She caught their reflection on the shiny surface of her fridge, saw the darkness of her eyes peeking over the paleness of her arms that were wound tight around his broad shoulders. She couldn’t see her own expression, but she knew what she would see if she tilted up her face – comfort, safety, satiety.

There was no denying it – there was possessiveness in the way she held him, the way she leaned heavily against his body, an intimate knowing in the way her body curved into his.

Their provocative pose should have shocked, embarrassed, but she felt right, comfortable, and she missed feeling the safety that one can feel in another person’s embrace. Not to say there wasn’t a sensual ripple; it was there in the languid surrender that was instilled in her by the way his tall body loomed over her, the prickles of pleasure she felt at the feel of his heat and his strong muscles underneath her hands, the way his arms—not crushing, not tight, but secure and firm and hinting of possession—surrounded her. His fingers curled at the ends of her hair, his soft moist breath was hot against the skin of her neck as he rubbed his cheek against hers slowly, luxuriously.

“You’re sleepy.” His voice rumbled in his chest and tickled her ears.

“No, I’m not.”

Jacob laughed at the thick, hazy denial. “Come on.”

Jacob grunted when Bella hitched her legs around his waist, clinging to his torso and sucked in a breath at the expected tightening of his body. She smiled against his neck and felt the climb of a growl rumbling in his chest before it trickled out of his lips.

He mumbled something under his breath and walked to her bed, turning off ceiling lights as he went. He pulled the multicolored quilt off, tipped her onto the bed, pulled her shoes off of her feet and tucked her in. “Stay, Jacob.”

He huffed out a reluctant breath. “I have to go home, baby.”

Bella tangled her fingers on his T-shirt. “Until I sleep.”

Jacob’s sigh was heavy and tired, but he toed off his shoes and tried to stay on top of the covers, but Bella tossed the covers away and used him as a blanket instead. Jacob eyed her peaceful face when she propped her cheek on his shoulder, a hand sliding across his chest to play with the edges of his hair. “You’re doing this to torture me.”

Her answer to that accusation was a breathy, “You started it.”

Jacob rolled his eyes, but then finally, his hands rubbing slow circles on her back, pressed a gentle whisper of a kiss on her forehead that clearly said I love, love, love you.

Her eyes fluttered open, they looked almost as dark as his in the warm glow of the night lamp by her bed. They exchanged a sad yet resigned kind of smile that spoke of everything they had gone through, together and apart. Bella released his hair and touched his cheek with her hand, leaving it there in a disturbingly familiar kind of gesture that reminded them of the twist and oddity of one’s fate. Her touch, the dark depth of her eyes, also told him in a rush of simple yet extraordinary unspoken words; I love, love, love you.

Bella and Jacob kept their eyes on each other until they slowly slid close on their own.

Bella woke up to an empty bed the next morning, also disturbingly familiar to what happened oh so long ago, but this time she didn’t break down into tears. In fact, she felt good, well, as she met the morning sun with a slow ‘ohwhatabeautifulmorning’ smile on her lips.