A Jacob Black Love Story

Jake's House

As soon as I get to Jacob's house, Jacob takes me on a walk on the beach La Push. It's beautiful.
"So, what's up?" he asks me as we both take a seat on this huge rock.
I shrug. "Um, things."
"What things?"
I raise my eyebrows. "Has anybody told you how nosy you can be, Jake?"
He laughs. "Bella has a couple of times. But seriously. Tell me what's on your mind."
"I've been thinking about this whole imprinting thing," I admit, feeling chagrin. "And you say that you love me. Prove it."
Jacob looks shocked by this. "What?"
"Show me how much you love me," I whisper.
He grins, and I gasp when I feel his lips against mine. His tongue asks for an entrance, and I let it in, moaning when he bites down hard on my lower lip. When he starts sucking on my lower lip, I moan louder.
I pout when he pulls away, and he chuckles.
"You'll get more of me another time, baby girl," he whispers. "I love you."
"I need your love," I tell him, and I blush saying this. "I feel like I need it all to take away my pain. I want your love to be the only thing I get high off of. Your love is all I need to make me myself. Your love will stop me from hurting myself. That is, if you're willing to be my protector and my boyfriend."
We grin at each other a second before his lips find their way onto mine. I pull away first, laughing when it's his turn to pout.
"You'll get more of me another time, baby boy," I say in my deepest voice. "I love you."
Jacob laughs. "Wow, you sound exactly like me."
I giggle. "I do not."
He grins. "Whatever. Now, come on. Let's go for a little walk, mate."
I wince. "Please don't call me that."
"Then what should I call you, sweetie?"
  I shake my head. "That's even worser than the first nickname."
"What about kitten? You said you're a cat person."
I nod. "That works just fine, puppy."
He smirks at me. "Did you really just call me that?"
I shrug. "Well, you called me kitten."
We both burst out laughing at that. I'm his kitten and he's my puppy.
"You know, cats and dogs don't really get along," I say, smirking.
"But this dog gets along very well with his little cat," Jacob says playfully.
I giggle, playing along. "And what if the cat doesn't like the dog?"
"Then dog is going to surprise her."
"What are you-?"
Just then my air chokes off-Jacob grabs me up in a bear in bear hug so tight that it feels like I'm suffocating and he swings me around in a circle.
"I'm the puppy. Roof, roof!"
"Kitty can't. . .breathe," I gasp.
He laughs and puts me down.
"Welcome to my natural habitat, kitten," he says, grinning, and I look over his shoulder to see a pretty red house.
  We start walking, too hyper to sit still in the house.
"So what's your story anyway?" Jacob asks me. "I mean, why did you come to Forks?"
I roll my eyes. "You sound like you didn't want to meet me in the first place, puppy."
He sighs. "You and I both know I didn't mean it like that, kitten."
I take a deep breath. "Once upon a time, there was a-"
He glares at me. "I don't want to hear a fairy tale story. I want to hear your story."
"My father died four months ago in a car crash, and I started to. . ." I trail off. How can I tell a werewolf who cares about my wellbeing that I cut myself?
"You started to what?" Jacob prompts.
I hesitate. "I started to cut myself. A couple months after my dad's funeral, my mom thought it would be a good idea to move here. She thought it would be a good opportunity for me to make friends since the kids in my old school bullied me."
"Those kids seriously had nothing better to do?" Jacob mutters. "If I knew you back in New York, I wouldn't let you anywhere near a blade."
"Well, I don't cut myself as much as I did before."
He growls, and I realize I shouldn't have said that. "You still cut yourself?"
I visibly gulp. "Once a week. It's a habit."
"Give me your wrist," he demands, and I whimper as I follow orders. He lightly kisses one of my scars.
"Don't hurt yourself," he murmurs.
I don't say anything. I'm not completely healed yet. Kissing him lightly on the lips, I drive home.