Hands on Me (A Twilight Fanfiction written by IndependentIndividuality)

Chapter Eleven: In Which There is a Scent Issue

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY BUT I THINK YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?!

Chapter Eleven: In Which There is a Scent Issue

and i'm grounding all my dreams of ever really seeing california

'cause you know what's in between us is sensual in such non-conventional ways

- fall out boy, homesick at space camp

-

I slept fitfully that night, dreaming of vampires with crimson eyes in dark, hooded cloaks chasing me down abandoned alleyways.

Between the heat from Jacob's body and the two blankets I was sleeping under, I soon grew hot, and even in my subconscious, I knew which of the heat sources I would prefer. Sometime during my sleep I kicked off my blankets and curled on top of them, against Jacob's side. His arm, hotter than usual because it was bare, curled around me and I hooked one leg around his tree trunk-like thigh and slept more peacefully for the rest of the night.

Sometime later I was awoken when I felt my heat source being removed as Jake shifted around me and got up. I grasped out for him, childishly, and he caught my hand in his own and leaned down over me.

"Shh," he whispered, smoothing back my hair, and it was hard not to lull back to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Everything's okay, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to take a shower."

I think I made a noise of protest, because then he said soothingly, "It's alright, you're safe here, you sleep – I'm going to leave the door open, so don't come in unless it's an emergency."

Even in my half-conscious state, I blushed. He released my hand and it dropped back uselessly on the bed. I closed my eyes against the brightening of the room when Jacob switched on the bathroom light behind me. I burrowed myself under the covers and buried my face in the pillow he had used, inhaling his scent to distract myself from the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor of the bathroom.

At least I knew what it was now – lust, but did it have to be so hard not to turn around? And what was wrong with me? We were running for our lives from God knows what - which reminded me to ask Jacob about that later, which reminded me in turn where Jacob was now.

I heard the water turn on and the shower curtain be pulled back and I groaned, squeezing my legs together under the blankets and feeling utterly and completely ashamed of myself. I should be worried about my parents, my family – but it hurt to think of them, so I instinctively pushed all thoughts of them away. Why couldn't it be like that with my desire for Jake?

But I couldn't push it away, even when I tried. Part of me suspected I wasn't trying hard enough, because even as I made myself miserable over such thoughts, I still entertained them. Even now I was imagining Jacob in the shower, his skin dark and beautiful and wet against the white tile, his soaking hair clinging to his face, water dripping from it and onto his body and spiraling down, down, down . . .

Lust exploded in me, rising up, and I nearly cried with frustration. My hands seemed to twitch, of their own accord, down my stomach. I groaned again, snatching them back up near my head and shoving them under the pillow. Not this again. What was wrong with me?

I realized with a thud that I didn't have anymore clothes, particularly anymore underwear. I knew Jacob had to take me to get shoes, so it only made sense that we bought a few clothes too, since we had none. I could only hope Jacob decided to do this sooner, rather than later.

I heard the water cut off and the shower curtain slide open and I buried my face so far into the pillow that I could hardly breathe, to avoid temptation. It seemed like it took him twice as long to dress as it had to undress, and I reminded myself that he had to towel off, which didn't exactly help my situation.