Love in a New Light, Chapter Four: The Naked Truth
Title: Love in a New Light, Chapter 4
Author: Me, anirishtwilight
Pairing: Quil/Claire
Rating: PG-13 for now but the rating might go up later. :]
Warnings: None
Wordcount: Approx. 3,208
Disclaimer: They aren't mine! Even though they are completely adorkable and I love them dearly!
A/N: Claire has just returned to La Push after living in California for 5 years for college. Quil has spent her entire life hiding his feelings from her until the right moment. Now it seems the time is right, but will Claire want what he has to offer?
Quil dragged her against his body roughly, and Claire reveled in the fact that he wasn't treating her as if she was breakable little Clairebear. She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her fingers up through his thick black hair and gripped the strands fiercely as she latched herself around him like a vise. Breaking away from his mouth, she turned her attention to his jaw, trailing her lips down the perfectly chiseled bone, alternating smoldering kisses and soft nips, making her way down to his neck at a torturous pace that had him moaning and tightening his already almost desperate grip on her back a little tighter. When she felt him tug at the hem of her shirt and lifted her arms for him to pull it over her head, revealing the lacy white bra beneath. He pulled her tight to his body again, burying his face in the crook of her neck. However, his next reaction was not what she was expecting.
"Wait, Claire. We need to slow down."
She held her breath for a long moment and blinked, shocked. She had risen onto her knees for him to remove her shirt, but with his words, she fell back to the ground with an unceremonial thump, meeting his eyes with a gaze that was a mix of confusion and hurt.
"I'm sorry, did you see something you didn't like?" She started to gather her shirt from the floor beside him and pulled it up to her chest, covering herself and suddenly feeling very vulnerable and exposed. Feelings she had never experienced with Quil and never thought she would.
He ran his hands through his hair looking truly tortured and not a little shaken. He reached out to run his hands down her arms, but she flinched at his touch. "Claire, honey, come on. Do you really think I'm the kind of the man that would just throw you down on my living room rug and ravage you? I care about you way too much for that. We need to back up about twenty steps here."
Her eyes flashed fire and she pulled her shirt over her head, getting to her feet and putting a few feet between them, indicating her anger. "That seems to be a problem with you, Quil. Wanting to take things in twenty steps when they can be taken in five. Why always the long way around? Afraid you're going to make a terrible mistake?"
Suddenly he was practically nose to nose with her again, and it seemed to her that he had gotten there incredibly too fast. She blinked once, but forgot her confusion in his words. "Use your head, Claire. How long have you known me? How many times have you seen me this rattled? The feelings I have for you are deep in a way you wouldn't even understand yet. I wasn't expecting this to happen right now."
Narrowing her eyes, she took another very deliberate step back. "Okay, so I need to use my head and I also, for some reason, am too stupid to understand whatever it is that is going on in that rock-hard head of yours even though I know you better than probably anyone in the world."
He coughed out a bitter laugh, "You have no idea."
Her whole body jerked back now and the anger drained from her face replaced with pure hurt. "Apparently there are a lot of things I'm clueless about. I think it's time for me to go."
Picking up her purse, she ran to the door, fighting the tears that were threatening to bubble to the surface. She absolutely refused to cry right now, not in front of him.
"Claire, wait!" He tried to catch her before she slammed the door in his face, but he was too late.
All he could hear before the sharp smack of wood against wood was a choked, "Bye, Quil."
-----
She lasted roughly three minutes and twenty seconds before she broke down.
The racking sobs were so violent that she actually had to pull her car over to the side of the road. She felt pathetic for a number of reasons, and now adding to that list was the fact that she couldn't even drive her sorry self back to her house to wallow in her rejection in at least some comfort.
She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and tried to take deep breaths and think about what could have possibly gone so wrong when she thought things were going so well. Did she push things too fast? Was it really that he didn't want her from the start and she had just pressured him into kissing her so she didn't feel bad? Another choked sob ran through her as she considered that option. It seemed that her relationship with Quil had taken a very complicated turn since they had both grown up.
When she felt she was finally calm enough to at least have control over the accelerator, she turned the car over again and made her way back toward home. Maybe it was for the best anyway. Being in a relationship when she was trying to start a professional life here in Port Angeles would just complicate things. Maybe she shouldn't live in La Push at all and she should just find an apartment right in Port Angeles. She really was more suited to the city anyway.
The ideas raced through her head one after another as she raced mindlessly down the road, not seeing the path ahead of her. When the huge black form jumped in front of her car, she slammed on the breaks with a shocked scream, having not been paying attention. Her headlights ran across a hint of fur before it slinked back into the night.
Her breath was coming in short, shaky gasps, and her head was pounding from where it had slammed into her driver's side window. She could already feel welts growing where her seat belts had dug into her chest and stomach. Gripping the wheel, she knew she was beginning to hyperventilate, panicking, but there was nothing she could do about it. What the hell was that thing?
When something slammed into her window, she screamed again and thought she was going to die of shock right there. When her door opened and she heard vaguely familiar tones reaching her ears, familiar hands pulling her from the car, she tried to protest, but couldn't fight the blackness that had begun to invade her vision.
"Claire, stay with me. Christ. Claire, don't pass out on me, you've gotta stay with me, okay? Just listen to my voice."
She knew it was Quil, and the knowledge was further confirmed by the blue streak of profanities that was only partially intelligible, intermittently punctuated by something about idiotic bastards and killing them. She shook her head and wondered if he had a personal relationship with the giant deer in the area.
"Quil, what the hell. Put me down. We're fighting." She slapped a half-hearted hand against his shoulder, and cursed her body for being so unresponsive.
"Shut up, Claire. You're hurt. God, Claire, I'm so sorry." Again, sounding tortured, he carried her like a delicate piece of china.
"Yeah, that helps." She rolled her eyes, but immediately regretted the gesture as it suddenly felt like someone beat her in the forehead with the sharp end of a hammer. She groaned miserably at the pain and gave into the temptation of putting her head on his shoulder.
"What's wrong? Oh God, what's wrong? Don't worry, we're almost home."
"What? I was a good five miles away still, we've only been walking five minutes. I appreciate your attempt to delude me, but I'll be fine, Quil. I'm a big girl." She gritted her teeth against the pain that was now shooting through her entire body. However, as he suddenly hugged her closer, she noticed that he was running a fever at about a million degrees and it was beginning to bring on a sharp contrast to the icy shaking of her post-accident shock.
"Are you sick, Quil?"
"Huh? Sick? What are you talking about?"
"Well, your body is about as hot as summer pavement in California. And I don't mean that in the complimentary sense, after tonight."
When she was met with complete silence from Quil, she narrowed her eyes, but dropped the subject and put it on her list of future heated discussions to have with him. No pun intended.
It was only a moment later when she felt one of his arms reaching away from her body to grab at something in front of them. She heard the turning of a doorknob, and her eyes snapped open painfully. She stared at her front door disbelievingly. They couldn't seriously be home that fast.
"Wow. I must have hit my head pretty hard."
She felt a jolt run through his body and looked up to see the look of utter terror on his face, "Why, are you in pain? What's wrong? What should I do? Let me get you ice or something."
Truly annoyed now, she smacked at him in earnest. "No! Quil, put me down. I can walk. I'm going to get into bed like a good girl, I promise." When he hesitated, she practically growled at him. "Quil, I swear to God, if you don't put me down right now you'll be sorry for weeks."
He lifted an eyebrow and put her down very carefully. She teetered slightly, but kept her balance precariously. She was a sorry sight to be seen. Her hair was sticking out at all angles, a huge bruise was beginning to form on the left side of her face, her clothes were rumpled from being pressed against Quil's body on the "ride" home, and her makeup had caked to her cheeks as a result of her crying jag. Quil tilted his head at her, resisting the urge to gather her back into his arms. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it, but she had never looked more breakable to him than right in that moment, and he couldn't be more worried.
"I need a moment." She intoned through clenched teeth.
With that he watched her make her way carefully to the bathroom. He shook his head and scrubbed his hands over his face. Pulling himself together, he remembered he had a phone call to make.
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he hit the button for his recent calls and pressed the send button next to Jacob's name.
When he heard the other man's voice on the other end of the phone, the just barely restrained anger was rife in his voice. "What in the ever living hell were you thinking and why should I not come and beat the hell out of you right now, Jacob Black?"
There was silence for a few long moments before Jacob spoke. "Quil, I really wish I knew what you were talking about. Trust me."
Quil gritted his teeth, "Oh, that's great, Jake. Let me refresh your memory. Remember walking out in front of Claire's car and almost killing her? Did you have somewhere important to be? Because it didn't seem like you were in much of a hurry to get there as you ambled across the road like a freaking opossum."
"Quil, man, we have a problem. I don't remember anything that happened tonight. I don't remember any of that."
"What the hell are you talking about, Jacob?" Quil gripped the phone, hearing the plastic strain in his hand.
"I don't know yet. We don't know yet. We are going to have to talk about it soon though. We're meeting tomorrow night. 8pm. Sam was going to let you know later, but he knew you had to take care of Claire first."
Letting his head fall into his free hand, he said, "Fine. I'll be there. I swear to God though, there better be a good explanation for this. She almost died, Jake. Do you know what that felt like? The love of my life almost died and there was nothing I could do."
"I'm so sorry, Quil. I can't promise a good explanation, but we're going to try. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"
"Yeah." He hung up the phone with an angry snap and after a deep breath looked up. He jolted out of the chair when he saw Claire propped against the wall with a look of shock on her face.
"Well that's kind of contradictory considering tonight's earlier events, isn't it?"
"Clair, what do you think I was trying to say? How was I supposed to just throw that at you? You haven't even been home three weeks yet and here I am professing my undying love for you? Is it unreasonable for me to fear your reaction to that?" His face was etched with some kind of expectant fear that had Claire frowning.
"It's my turn to call you an idiot, Quil. You're obviously completely blind."
He lifted an eyebrow, "Okay, point taken, it's annoying being called an idiot. Now, do you have any other point?"
She began staggering over to him and he was before her in a flash, bracing her with his hands on her upper arms. "Claire, you're hurt."
"I'm fine, Ateara, would you just listen? I've been in love with you for what seems like my entire life. When you rejected me tonight I felt like you had chewed up my heart and spit it out at my feet. Why do you think it hurt so bad? I don't get all torn up like that over every boy I kiss, I'm not quite that pathetic. You should have told me you loved me years ago. What the hell were you waiting for?"
She reached up and strained to kiss him, but couldn't close the distance without her head screaming in protest. He did gladly did her a favor, however, and met her halfway, softly pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that warmed her body straight to its core. Resting his forehead against hers he said, "Claire, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words. I wish the circumstances could have been a little bit less messy."
"Yeah, I second that emotion." She pulled away and met his gaze with an intense look of questioning. "What were you talking to Jacob about, Quil?"
He took a step back, keeping his hands braced around her arms, but obviously guarding his expression. "Claire, that isn't a conversation we should have tonight. Maybe when you're feeling better. You obviously have a concussion and we need to get you to bed and get you some rest. You've gotten yourself pretty banged up."
She narrowed her eyes again, once again feeling suspicious. "Quil...why are you hedging? I don't like dishonesty. Especially from you."
"I'm not being dishonest, Claire. I will tell you everything once you get some rest, I promise." He met her gaze in earnest and stroked a hand across her hair. "Please let me take you to bed."
She grinned, "Now there's an offer I can't refuse."
He chuckled, "Always a comedian."
Scooping her up in his arms for the second time that night, he hauled her off to tuck her in.
-----
When Claire woke up the next morning, she felt like she had been run over by her car the night before rather than having been in it. The bruise on her face had bloomed into a cacophony of color; purples, greens, yellows and reds blossomed across her cheek and eye making her look like a prized fighter. Her head was pounding about fifteen times worse than it was before she had fallen asleep and the places where her seatbelt had fastened her in felt like some large animal had kicked her numerous times in the torso. She was not in good shape.
Not all was lost about the morning, however. As she allowed herself to finally regain consciousness, she realized that her bed seemed to be sporting some kind of space heater that was currently gently, tentatively wrapped around her. She smiled and began to turn toward him but stopped dead in her tracks as her whole body screamed for her to stop. She emitted a low groan that sounded wretched even to her own ears.
Quil had apparently been sleeping, but at the sound of her pitiful pain, he jolted awake and brushed a hand across her forehead, "What's wrong, honey, are you in pain? Can I get you something? What can I do?"
"All right, Mother Goose, cut back on the honking. I'm fine, I just moved too fast."
His low chuckle vibrated through her back, causing small, painful aches to pulse through her body, but she couldn't really bring herself to care that much. It also caused a fingertip of pleasure to race down her spine.
"So this is the key to getting Quil Ateara into bed, huh? Smash yourself to smithereens. I must admit it's a bit unconventional, but I suppose the ends do justify the means." She grinned cheekily at him, knowing the statement would bother him.
"Claire, I..."
She turned over, much more carefully this time, and was bold enough to even roll on top of him--although she paid for it with shooting pain throughout her stomach. It was worth it. "Lighten up, would you? I was just kidding. I'm really fine, Quil. It's not your fault I'm hurt. I really don't understand why you're acting like it is." She lowered her lips to his, drawing the kiss out. Running her tongue along his lower lip she enticed him to let her in, to deepen the kiss. He obliged, parting his lips with a soft moan. After a moment, she pulled away with a rather feline smile gracing her not-quite-satiated mouth. "I could get used to this love thing. And to this waking up with you thing."
He grinned, "Yeah well, don't get too used to it. We're going to take it slow, remember?"
She pouted, "I don't remember exactly agreeing to that."
He ran a finger over her bottom lip, "Your pout hasn't changed a bit in 22 years, Claire."
Wrinkling her nose she nuzzled her face into his neck, "Your iron will hasn't changed in 22 years either, old man. I'll crack through it though, don't you worry."
Sighing, he ran a hand down her back, "That's what I'm afraid of."
Planting a kiss on his neck, she pulled her head back up to meet his gaze. "So about your conversation with Jake. I feel like there's something you're not telling me."
Quil immediately tensed. She could feel it run through him like a ramrod beneath her from head to toe.
"Okay...sore subject I've gathered?" She ran her thumb across his brow gently, "Quil, you can tell me anything."
"Well..." Quil circled his hands around her waist and effortlessly lifted her off of him and back into her horizontal position on the bed. He sat up so he was looking down at her and took a deep breath, appearing as if he was swallowing hot coals.
"I'm a werewolf."
Chapter 3 | Chapter 5
Author: Me, anirishtwilight
Pairing: Quil/Claire
Rating: PG-13 for now but the rating might go up later. :]
Warnings: None
Wordcount: Approx. 3,208
Disclaimer: They aren't mine! Even though they are completely adorkable and I love them dearly!
A/N: Claire has just returned to La Push after living in California for 5 years for college. Quil has spent her entire life hiding his feelings from her until the right moment. Now it seems the time is right, but will Claire want what he has to offer?
Quil dragged her against his body roughly, and Claire reveled in the fact that he wasn't treating her as if she was breakable little Clairebear. She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her fingers up through his thick black hair and gripped the strands fiercely as she latched herself around him like a vise. Breaking away from his mouth, she turned her attention to his jaw, trailing her lips down the perfectly chiseled bone, alternating smoldering kisses and soft nips, making her way down to his neck at a torturous pace that had him moaning and tightening his already almost desperate grip on her back a little tighter. When she felt him tug at the hem of her shirt and lifted her arms for him to pull it over her head, revealing the lacy white bra beneath. He pulled her tight to his body again, burying his face in the crook of her neck. However, his next reaction was not what she was expecting.
"Wait, Claire. We need to slow down."
She held her breath for a long moment and blinked, shocked. She had risen onto her knees for him to remove her shirt, but with his words, she fell back to the ground with an unceremonial thump, meeting his eyes with a gaze that was a mix of confusion and hurt.
"I'm sorry, did you see something you didn't like?" She started to gather her shirt from the floor beside him and pulled it up to her chest, covering herself and suddenly feeling very vulnerable and exposed. Feelings she had never experienced with Quil and never thought she would.
He ran his hands through his hair looking truly tortured and not a little shaken. He reached out to run his hands down her arms, but she flinched at his touch. "Claire, honey, come on. Do you really think I'm the kind of the man that would just throw you down on my living room rug and ravage you? I care about you way too much for that. We need to back up about twenty steps here."
Her eyes flashed fire and she pulled her shirt over her head, getting to her feet and putting a few feet between them, indicating her anger. "That seems to be a problem with you, Quil. Wanting to take things in twenty steps when they can be taken in five. Why always the long way around? Afraid you're going to make a terrible mistake?"
Suddenly he was practically nose to nose with her again, and it seemed to her that he had gotten there incredibly too fast. She blinked once, but forgot her confusion in his words. "Use your head, Claire. How long have you known me? How many times have you seen me this rattled? The feelings I have for you are deep in a way you wouldn't even understand yet. I wasn't expecting this to happen right now."
Narrowing her eyes, she took another very deliberate step back. "Okay, so I need to use my head and I also, for some reason, am too stupid to understand whatever it is that is going on in that rock-hard head of yours even though I know you better than probably anyone in the world."
He coughed out a bitter laugh, "You have no idea."
Her whole body jerked back now and the anger drained from her face replaced with pure hurt. "Apparently there are a lot of things I'm clueless about. I think it's time for me to go."
Picking up her purse, she ran to the door, fighting the tears that were threatening to bubble to the surface. She absolutely refused to cry right now, not in front of him.
"Claire, wait!" He tried to catch her before she slammed the door in his face, but he was too late.
All he could hear before the sharp smack of wood against wood was a choked, "Bye, Quil."
-----
She lasted roughly three minutes and twenty seconds before she broke down.
The racking sobs were so violent that she actually had to pull her car over to the side of the road. She felt pathetic for a number of reasons, and now adding to that list was the fact that she couldn't even drive her sorry self back to her house to wallow in her rejection in at least some comfort.
She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and tried to take deep breaths and think about what could have possibly gone so wrong when she thought things were going so well. Did she push things too fast? Was it really that he didn't want her from the start and she had just pressured him into kissing her so she didn't feel bad? Another choked sob ran through her as she considered that option. It seemed that her relationship with Quil had taken a very complicated turn since they had both grown up.
When she felt she was finally calm enough to at least have control over the accelerator, she turned the car over again and made her way back toward home. Maybe it was for the best anyway. Being in a relationship when she was trying to start a professional life here in Port Angeles would just complicate things. Maybe she shouldn't live in La Push at all and she should just find an apartment right in Port Angeles. She really was more suited to the city anyway.
The ideas raced through her head one after another as she raced mindlessly down the road, not seeing the path ahead of her. When the huge black form jumped in front of her car, she slammed on the breaks with a shocked scream, having not been paying attention. Her headlights ran across a hint of fur before it slinked back into the night.
Her breath was coming in short, shaky gasps, and her head was pounding from where it had slammed into her driver's side window. She could already feel welts growing where her seat belts had dug into her chest and stomach. Gripping the wheel, she knew she was beginning to hyperventilate, panicking, but there was nothing she could do about it. What the hell was that thing?
When something slammed into her window, she screamed again and thought she was going to die of shock right there. When her door opened and she heard vaguely familiar tones reaching her ears, familiar hands pulling her from the car, she tried to protest, but couldn't fight the blackness that had begun to invade her vision.
"Claire, stay with me. Christ. Claire, don't pass out on me, you've gotta stay with me, okay? Just listen to my voice."
She knew it was Quil, and the knowledge was further confirmed by the blue streak of profanities that was only partially intelligible, intermittently punctuated by something about idiotic bastards and killing them. She shook her head and wondered if he had a personal relationship with the giant deer in the area.
"Quil, what the hell. Put me down. We're fighting." She slapped a half-hearted hand against his shoulder, and cursed her body for being so unresponsive.
"Shut up, Claire. You're hurt. God, Claire, I'm so sorry." Again, sounding tortured, he carried her like a delicate piece of china.
"Yeah, that helps." She rolled her eyes, but immediately regretted the gesture as it suddenly felt like someone beat her in the forehead with the sharp end of a hammer. She groaned miserably at the pain and gave into the temptation of putting her head on his shoulder.
"What's wrong? Oh God, what's wrong? Don't worry, we're almost home."
"What? I was a good five miles away still, we've only been walking five minutes. I appreciate your attempt to delude me, but I'll be fine, Quil. I'm a big girl." She gritted her teeth against the pain that was now shooting through her entire body. However, as he suddenly hugged her closer, she noticed that he was running a fever at about a million degrees and it was beginning to bring on a sharp contrast to the icy shaking of her post-accident shock.
"Are you sick, Quil?"
"Huh? Sick? What are you talking about?"
"Well, your body is about as hot as summer pavement in California. And I don't mean that in the complimentary sense, after tonight."
When she was met with complete silence from Quil, she narrowed her eyes, but dropped the subject and put it on her list of future heated discussions to have with him. No pun intended.
It was only a moment later when she felt one of his arms reaching away from her body to grab at something in front of them. She heard the turning of a doorknob, and her eyes snapped open painfully. She stared at her front door disbelievingly. They couldn't seriously be home that fast.
"Wow. I must have hit my head pretty hard."
She felt a jolt run through his body and looked up to see the look of utter terror on his face, "Why, are you in pain? What's wrong? What should I do? Let me get you ice or something."
Truly annoyed now, she smacked at him in earnest. "No! Quil, put me down. I can walk. I'm going to get into bed like a good girl, I promise." When he hesitated, she practically growled at him. "Quil, I swear to God, if you don't put me down right now you'll be sorry for weeks."
He lifted an eyebrow and put her down very carefully. She teetered slightly, but kept her balance precariously. She was a sorry sight to be seen. Her hair was sticking out at all angles, a huge bruise was beginning to form on the left side of her face, her clothes were rumpled from being pressed against Quil's body on the "ride" home, and her makeup had caked to her cheeks as a result of her crying jag. Quil tilted his head at her, resisting the urge to gather her back into his arms. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it, but she had never looked more breakable to him than right in that moment, and he couldn't be more worried.
"I need a moment." She intoned through clenched teeth.
With that he watched her make her way carefully to the bathroom. He shook his head and scrubbed his hands over his face. Pulling himself together, he remembered he had a phone call to make.
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he hit the button for his recent calls and pressed the send button next to Jacob's name.
When he heard the other man's voice on the other end of the phone, the just barely restrained anger was rife in his voice. "What in the ever living hell were you thinking and why should I not come and beat the hell out of you right now, Jacob Black?"
There was silence for a few long moments before Jacob spoke. "Quil, I really wish I knew what you were talking about. Trust me."
Quil gritted his teeth, "Oh, that's great, Jake. Let me refresh your memory. Remember walking out in front of Claire's car and almost killing her? Did you have somewhere important to be? Because it didn't seem like you were in much of a hurry to get there as you ambled across the road like a freaking opossum."
"Quil, man, we have a problem. I don't remember anything that happened tonight. I don't remember any of that."
"What the hell are you talking about, Jacob?" Quil gripped the phone, hearing the plastic strain in his hand.
"I don't know yet. We don't know yet. We are going to have to talk about it soon though. We're meeting tomorrow night. 8pm. Sam was going to let you know later, but he knew you had to take care of Claire first."
Letting his head fall into his free hand, he said, "Fine. I'll be there. I swear to God though, there better be a good explanation for this. She almost died, Jake. Do you know what that felt like? The love of my life almost died and there was nothing I could do."
"I'm so sorry, Quil. I can't promise a good explanation, but we're going to try. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"
"Yeah." He hung up the phone with an angry snap and after a deep breath looked up. He jolted out of the chair when he saw Claire propped against the wall with a look of shock on her face.
"Well that's kind of contradictory considering tonight's earlier events, isn't it?"
"Clair, what do you think I was trying to say? How was I supposed to just throw that at you? You haven't even been home three weeks yet and here I am professing my undying love for you? Is it unreasonable for me to fear your reaction to that?" His face was etched with some kind of expectant fear that had Claire frowning.
"It's my turn to call you an idiot, Quil. You're obviously completely blind."
He lifted an eyebrow, "Okay, point taken, it's annoying being called an idiot. Now, do you have any other point?"
She began staggering over to him and he was before her in a flash, bracing her with his hands on her upper arms. "Claire, you're hurt."
"I'm fine, Ateara, would you just listen? I've been in love with you for what seems like my entire life. When you rejected me tonight I felt like you had chewed up my heart and spit it out at my feet. Why do you think it hurt so bad? I don't get all torn up like that over every boy I kiss, I'm not quite that pathetic. You should have told me you loved me years ago. What the hell were you waiting for?"
She reached up and strained to kiss him, but couldn't close the distance without her head screaming in protest. He did gladly did her a favor, however, and met her halfway, softly pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that warmed her body straight to its core. Resting his forehead against hers he said, "Claire, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words. I wish the circumstances could have been a little bit less messy."
"Yeah, I second that emotion." She pulled away and met his gaze with an intense look of questioning. "What were you talking to Jacob about, Quil?"
He took a step back, keeping his hands braced around her arms, but obviously guarding his expression. "Claire, that isn't a conversation we should have tonight. Maybe when you're feeling better. You obviously have a concussion and we need to get you to bed and get you some rest. You've gotten yourself pretty banged up."
She narrowed her eyes again, once again feeling suspicious. "Quil...why are you hedging? I don't like dishonesty. Especially from you."
"I'm not being dishonest, Claire. I will tell you everything once you get some rest, I promise." He met her gaze in earnest and stroked a hand across her hair. "Please let me take you to bed."
She grinned, "Now there's an offer I can't refuse."
He chuckled, "Always a comedian."
Scooping her up in his arms for the second time that night, he hauled her off to tuck her in.
-----
When Claire woke up the next morning, she felt like she had been run over by her car the night before rather than having been in it. The bruise on her face had bloomed into a cacophony of color; purples, greens, yellows and reds blossomed across her cheek and eye making her look like a prized fighter. Her head was pounding about fifteen times worse than it was before she had fallen asleep and the places where her seatbelt had fastened her in felt like some large animal had kicked her numerous times in the torso. She was not in good shape.
Not all was lost about the morning, however. As she allowed herself to finally regain consciousness, she realized that her bed seemed to be sporting some kind of space heater that was currently gently, tentatively wrapped around her. She smiled and began to turn toward him but stopped dead in her tracks as her whole body screamed for her to stop. She emitted a low groan that sounded wretched even to her own ears.
Quil had apparently been sleeping, but at the sound of her pitiful pain, he jolted awake and brushed a hand across her forehead, "What's wrong, honey, are you in pain? Can I get you something? What can I do?"
"All right, Mother Goose, cut back on the honking. I'm fine, I just moved too fast."
His low chuckle vibrated through her back, causing small, painful aches to pulse through her body, but she couldn't really bring herself to care that much. It also caused a fingertip of pleasure to race down her spine.
"So this is the key to getting Quil Ateara into bed, huh? Smash yourself to smithereens. I must admit it's a bit unconventional, but I suppose the ends do justify the means." She grinned cheekily at him, knowing the statement would bother him.
"Claire, I..."
She turned over, much more carefully this time, and was bold enough to even roll on top of him--although she paid for it with shooting pain throughout her stomach. It was worth it. "Lighten up, would you? I was just kidding. I'm really fine, Quil. It's not your fault I'm hurt. I really don't understand why you're acting like it is." She lowered her lips to his, drawing the kiss out. Running her tongue along his lower lip she enticed him to let her in, to deepen the kiss. He obliged, parting his lips with a soft moan. After a moment, she pulled away with a rather feline smile gracing her not-quite-satiated mouth. "I could get used to this love thing. And to this waking up with you thing."
He grinned, "Yeah well, don't get too used to it. We're going to take it slow, remember?"
She pouted, "I don't remember exactly agreeing to that."
He ran a finger over her bottom lip, "Your pout hasn't changed a bit in 22 years, Claire."
Wrinkling her nose she nuzzled her face into his neck, "Your iron will hasn't changed in 22 years either, old man. I'll crack through it though, don't you worry."
Sighing, he ran a hand down her back, "That's what I'm afraid of."
Planting a kiss on his neck, she pulled her head back up to meet his gaze. "So about your conversation with Jake. I feel like there's something you're not telling me."
Quil immediately tensed. She could feel it run through him like a ramrod beneath her from head to toe.
"Okay...sore subject I've gathered?" She ran her thumb across his brow gently, "Quil, you can tell me anything."
"Well..." Quil circled his hands around her waist and effortlessly lifted her off of him and back into her horizontal position on the bed. He sat up so he was looking down at her and took a deep breath, appearing as if he was swallowing hot coals.
"I'm a werewolf."
Chapter 3 | Chapter 5