Warning: foul language, sexual matter, Paul being a jackass

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

He smothered a sigh, half glaring at the clock, half glaring at the kid sitting across from him. The kid had balls, he'd have to give him that much. Not many could continue walking when Paul Lahote sent them the death stare. Unfortunately for Paul, this fucker could. He had a ballpoint pen in his hand, tapping it in-fucking-cessantly against the side of the desk like the minute hand of a clock, keeping beat. Each tap added a new strike under Paul's reasons to kill this bitch.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

He huffed so loudly that Jared knocked his knee against Paul's; Jared was sharing the same lab bench as him, but unlike Paul, Jared was actually trying to pay attention. Paul wasn't fooled. Jared was no stellar student. He would know. They had known each other since they were in diapers. Grown up next to each other. Fought each other. Smoked together for the first time. Woke up with hangovers for the first time together. Together, together, together.

And all of the sudden there was SamandEmbryandJake to contend with, which really fucking sucked because Sam could literally control his every move, and Embry was too fucking lost in his own daddy-problems to deal with, and Jake was in love with a leech lover, who wasn't even pretty and reeked of decay all the time but God forbid someone say something about it.

Five minutes left, Paul told himself. Five minutes, and then he was free, and he didn't have to deal with Jared's peacefulness (ever since he imprinted on little Kimmy-cub) and he could escape Sam's reproachful gaze and Embry's snide sarcasm. And he could leave Jake's holier-than-thou bullshit in the dust in just five minutes because Paul didn't have patrol tonight and he planned on making it very worthwhile.

Very.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

"-you're reminded that while you can build a volcano, choosing to do so would be...very unwise, if your grades hold any value to you-"

Paul's anticipation was almost unbearable to endure. Heavy, powerful breaths sucked up the quietness between him and Jared, making the coolheaded shifter very aware of Paul's internal thought process. Did she know? Paul wondered. Did she know he was coming for her?

Did she know she would come for him?

Quivering with boiling rage and need, each muscle in Paul's well-sculpted body was drawn taut under his shifting, flexing skin. He bowed his head to stare at the clock hanging innocently on the wall like a mere poster, like it wasn't the separation between him and her, like it wasn't the defining line he needed to tow lest he face Sam's wrath once more for disobediently leaving school early. Paul had to obey. Paul had to behave. There was no alternative.

So he watched the circular gateway between prison and freedom, sliding a hand conspicuously down his shorts to adjust himself. Not that he cared. Sandra and Kida were watching him like he was the latest cover model for a dirty skin mag, but he didn't give a fuck. They could watch him all they wanted. He was blind to all of them.

He just wanted to get to room 104 as fast as humanly – or inhumanly – possible.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

With a snarl that made Jordan and Jodi start with fright, Paul leaned over, stretching his torso in a way that only helped to emphasize the delicious frame of his spine, the curl of his shoulder blades. His hand shot forward before he, or anyone, could stop himself, and in seconds the damned pen was in pieces on the floor. Ink dripped from his hand to the tiled floor below, splattering quietly with its wet droplets.

Their teacher said nothing. At first Paul thought she was going to call him out for it, before he caught the not-so-subtle glance of her eyes to the ink-stained fragments on the floor and sighed. And still said nothing. She was afraid, Paul realized with a pleasurable lurch in his stomach. Afraid of him. Too scared of a seventeen year old boy to scold him for destroying another student's property.

Before Paul could dwell on it, the bell rang.

He was on his feet faster than you could say go. Jared was trying to talk to him, saying something about patrol and Sam and he could just fuck right off as far as Paul was concerned. The students of La Push gave him a wide berth once they saw who it was barreling down the hall at unreasonable speeds. Teachers tutted and students yelped to get away, but Paul was blind to it. He was blind to everything but the door to 104, swinging open slowly as students milled about, stepping past each other to get to their lockers and head home for the day.

And there she was. Paul stopped six feet from the door when he saw her step outside, dark red hair shining like a beacon in the swarm of black and brown heads of hair. Brilliant brown eyes found his and she smiled – smirked more like – and glided to him.

Jenny.

She was built like a fucking goddess, and Paul could've fucked her all day for it. Tall willowy legs, smooth arching back, great tits and a nice, full ass that allowed him to grab a good handful when he plowed into her –

"Hey, sexy."

She leaned her head back to stare up at him. Though she towered over most of the girls in their school, nobody was as tall as Paul Lahote, except for Jacob and former high school attender, Sam Uley. A few strands of hair fell in front of her face, which she blew away in a huff, grinning all the while. If she noticed the stains on Paul's large, skilled hands, she didn't say so.

"You free tonight?" And tomorrow, and the night after as well. Paul had plans for her.

Her eyes turned smoldering with want, and he could smell the air around her start to shift into something sultry, something salty and wet. He stifled a groan, backing her into the set of lockers beside them. He trapped her with his two long arms, pressing the front of his body along her torso, printing the lockers behind them with his painted-hands.

She chewed her lip to hide a smirk, tilting her head. "Do I have a choice?"

He grinned down at her. "Nope," he popped the p. "You're all mine tonight."

She stretched languidly along the mattress, humming contentedly as they came down from the post-orgasmic high. Supple thighs twined around his own, and Paul's palms moved automatically to cup her firm rear, pressing her tightly to him in a way that was more intimate than sexual. Jenny smiled to herself, running a hand along his ribs, light as a feather. Paul shivered under her gentle ministrations, letting his eyes close.

It was one of those rare times when he had finally given in to the wolf's constant need for affection. Paul wasn't the snuggling-type of lover, but with Jenny the compulsion for touch, both carnal and platonic, was overwhelming. Jenny's hair curled in his hands as he tangled his fingers to the roots, massaging her scalp mindlessly. She almost purred, rubbing her front along his peacefully. He felt better than he had done in months.

If Jenny had noticed a difference in Paul's love-making, she hadn't said anything to him about it. Paul wondered if she had seen a change in the way he held her, the way he worshipped her, the way he always – fucking always – got her to come first. She was mute to the subject, and Paul wondered if it was for the fact that she, too, had changed ever since he had imprinted on her. Paul heard from Sam that their imprints felt the compulsion almost as badly as they did, the need to be with their shape-shifter.

"This is nice," Jenny murmured, so quiet that Paul couldn't be mad at her for breaking the silence. It was as though her words were part of the silence, unspoken yet there, resting comfortably between them as they touched and caressed each other like lovers.

Paul said nothing but brushed his nose along her hairline, taking care to kiss her forehead twice. Her slender hands tightened their grasp on his waist.

"You've been busy an awful lot this week," Jenny added, and the words did irk him this time. Why do girls have that habit of wanting to talk about shit right after a good fuck? Paul refrained from rolling his eyes, just barely. "Work?"

Paul grunted, unwilling to go further into the matter. Jenny wasn't the sort of girl who would understand the supernatural. She wasn't open-minded like Bella or Kim or Emily; Jenny was a firecracker and a half, and Paul didn't really have a damn clue what the spirits were thinking, having him imprint on her. But he liked it, anyways. He liked Jenny, liked that he chose her, even before the imprint. Virgins were woefully over-rated. And Jenny was anything but a virgin. Paul could go as fast and hard with her as he wanted because she liked it that way.

God, he could fuck her all day. Truly.

Jenny sighed, the sound muffled against Paul's naked body. "I should go," she said finally. Paul didn't move, holding her closely. He didn't want to relinquish her to the world again; who knew when he would get to have her next?

But Jenny slithered out of his clutches and got up, stretching in a manner that had Paul groaning into his pillow.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he grumbled, scowling in a way that flattered Jenny very much. She chuckled, closing the snap on her bra with nimble fingers. As she slipped into her jeans, she met Paul's wanting gaze and looked away, blushing slightly. His eyebrows soared upwards, surprised at her modesty. She'd never made a fuss about being naked in front of him before.

Jenny's heart rate quickened. Paul could hear it fluttering in her chest, not unnaturally fast, but faster than it should've been. She was making a big show of being fine, sliding her arms through her shirt and pulling it overhead while she spoke.

"Spring Fling is coming up," she said finally. Paul's heart sank in his chest as he fought to stay calm. God he so did not want to go to one of those shitty things. There was no booze, and the music sucked, and all he'd be doing was keeping girls away from him so he could stand to the side and scowl at any guy that approached Jenny.

Jenny swallowed nervously, and Paul's wolf actually clamped down on his temper. You're scaring her, he reminded himself, more upset at that thought than he felt he should've been. You need to calm down. Paul bit his tongue when it went to protest to her encroaching questions.

"I know you're not into that kind of shit, but mom got me this sexy number" – Christ, here it comes – "and the girls want to go to Port Angeles somewhere and try and sneak into a bar afterwards. There's a dirty little joint on the south side. You know the place I'm talking about? Yeah, well they're using Kida's car. Anyways, I don't know why I'm even bothering, but I figured" – fuck, here it comes – "I wanted to let you know that Mark Holl asked me to go with him and I said yeah."

Paul went to whine in as mature a manner as possible when it donned on him what she was saying. Mark Holl...the dickhead in bio? No. Not acceptable. Paul could feel the wolf coming out in waves; red flashed in front of his eyes as he struggled to keep his head about him. It would do no good exploding in his bedroom with his half-dressed imprint.

"Oh?" he asked, trying to stay emotionless. Jenny wouldn't look at him, staring obstinately at her hands as she texted someone – likely her mom – when she'd be home.

"Mmm." Jenny tapped at the phone, swiping her fingers a couple of times over the oily screen. "Yeah. I just figured, since you want to keep this," she gestured to the pair of them, "casual, might as well say yeah. Mark's hot." Paul's temper erupted so fiercely that he actually went deaf for a few seconds while his blood pumped so loudly in his ears. He was almost lightheaded.

"I mean, it's not like there's a reason for me to say no." There it was. The catch-22. Paul bit his tongue so hard that it bled, enjoying the metallic taste for half a second, letting it clear his mind. He knew damn well what Jenny wanted and it was the absolute last thing Paul ever wanted to do.

A relationship. Fuck.

Paul thought he'd made himself abundantly clear when they had first hooked up six months ago, that he didn't want a relationship of any kind. Even after he'd phased and then imprinted on her, he was happy with all the crazy-fucking-amazing sex they were having, and his wolf was ecstatic. Even Sam hadn't gotten into Emily's pants that fast. The others had been so jealous of him, until they realized what he was doing with her.

You're not dating her? What the fuck, man? He could hear Jared's scoff of disbelief ringing in his head, even now. What if she decides she wants to date other dudes? That hadn't been an issue at the time. Jenny had sworn up, down and sideways that she had no intention of ever marrying, and commitment was something in the very distant future for her. She had started having sex as a form of rebellion, something Paul had realized after a few weeks of 'being with her' for lack of a better phrase. But it had been perfect for him; he didn't have to do the boyfriend shit, and he still got to spend time with her. They'd gone to a few parties together casually, but never actually went together. They mostly hooked up at parties. Jenny would go with her friends to someone's house, Paul would catch her scent and hunt her down, and the pair would slip out quietly at one or two in the morning to go to Paul's house. His mom was rarely home.

Paul took a second to look at his options. The first, and most obvious, would be to do nothing. Let her go to the stupid dance. Break Mark's nose later. Fuck her til she couldn't walk afterwards. Then maybe have a bath with her, rub her shoulders, nip at her earlobes. Except that would require him letting her go to the goddamn dance with Mark Holl. The stupid fucker was nowhere near worthy of putting his hand on her pinky toe, and Paul knew Mark well enough to know he'd want to do a lot more than that.

So that was a no. But what could he do?

He could ask her out. Paul nearly groaned at the thought. He really didn't want to date. The idea was repulsive, and irritating, and just annoying. Couldn't they just keep on having casual sex and worry about the future another day?

Paul had never been one to beat around the bush, unlike Jenny's more indirect tactics. With a huff, he sat up, sprawled on the duvet as naked as he was the day he was born. "What do you want from me, Jen?"

His curt tone didn't seem to startle her, but she did make a show of raising her eyebrows in disbelief, as though his question confused her. "From you? I don't understand, Paul. I was just telling you—"

"Cut the bullshit. You know I hate that kind of thing."

Jenny's mouth twisted unhappily, and Paul's wolf was bucking at the leash Paul had roped around him. The desire to comfort her and cave in to her demands – however covert they were – was almost irresistible. She gripped one of the bed posts at the end of the bed with one hand, propping the other fist on her hip.

"Look, Lahote. You and I have been fucking around for months now, and it's been cool. It's actually been better than any seventeen year-olds should get, I'm pretty sure. You're like...a god, and I'm a fucking queen in bed so we're both scoring big time." She gave a casual shrug like she didn't give a fuck. Paul's heart almost warmed with pride. "I don't see the big deal in going exclusive, alright? Nothing has to change. We can still have crazy good sex. All I want is like...dinner a couple nights, maybe go out once in a while and just chill. I mean, I don't know a damn thing about you! I don't know how many siblings you've got, or what your favorite subject is, or...or what you like to eat." She let out a big rush of air, frowning down at him.

"I just don't see what you've got against it."

Paul frowned, considering her words carefully. "I thought you said dating was a bullshit excuse for teenagers to show off their partners and have sex?"

Jenny grinned a bit. "It is. And I'm guilty of both."

Paul blushed, much to his horror. If Jenny noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead she clambered onto the rickety bed and crawled towards Paul, sliding either thigh around his hips, enclosing him between her knees. She rested her hands on his front, rubbing him affectionately. If it could have, his wolf would have purred.

"Come over for dinner," she was compromising now. She'd seen his panic, seen his horror, and retracted a fair bit. Paul absently wondered if the elders got it wrong; they had said a wolf was supposed to be what his imprint needed. But Jenny was doing everything for him. "Just come and hang out. Friday night. You can crash in my room – my parents are going out to some couples retreat in Seattle. My brother won't give a shit," she added, and Paul snorted at the lie. Justin was well-liked and outgoing like Jenny, but he didn't share her freeness in sexual conquests. And he definitely didn't enjoy seeing his sister's pursuits traipsing about his own house.

"Just...one night," she murmured, kissing his nose gently, cupping his face and finding the thin, soft hairs on his ears. She stroked them sweetly, memorizing his face as though she was drinking in the sight of him. "Please? Paul, I never beg. You know that. And I'm asking you now. Please." Paul knew how little she liked begging, and that was why he was always so proud of himself when he could get something out of her when he got her in bed.

Paul sighed into her shoulder, rubbing his cheek along her clavicle as he thought. Could he really say no to something like that? She made it sound so damn reasonable. But he really, really didn't want to... Except for the part about showing her off. Hell yes he'd like every guy in school to know that Jenny was his. She hummed a little as he cupped her bottom and pushed her down against him, rubbing the seam of her jeans on his front.

Yes. He'd really like everyone to know who she belonged to.

But dating... Really? Paul almost sneered at the mere thought of it. He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

"Chicken quesadillas."

Jenny jumped, not expecting him to answer. "What?"

"My favorite food. Chicken quesadillas. And I'm good at math. Numbers make sense to me. I can't fucking stand having to deduce shit or make jumps in science. Like from this reaction, we know that this is some cell from a monkey's testicle. Hate it. And English – I hate reading. I can't keep track of characters and I'd rather just imagine my own endings ninety-percent of the time." Paul paused, floored at the amount of detail he'd just given her. Crude details, perhaps, but more than he'd ever willingly told anyone.

It felt...kinda good.

It felt really good.

"And I'm an only child. But you probably could've figured that one out yourself." He narrowed his eyes on her, seeing her smile guiltily up at him from where she was now tucked under his arm. "You've been here enough times to know there's never anyone home but me. And sometimes mom." He deliberately left out his dad, because he wasn't really too excited to go there just yet.

"And I don't know what you're talking about. Don't know anything about each other. I know plenty about you."

Jenny blinked, amusement written plainly on her face. "Oh? And what do you know about me?"

Paul smiled very slowly; it was a smile that would've either sent Jenny running for the hills, or ripping off her clothes where she stood. She only shivered and squashed herself closer to Paul. "I know you've got a brother and no sisters, but you always wanted one. You complain about practically every girl you hang out with, but you treat every one of them like they're your other half. Why? Because you wish they were. Because you want the kind of large family your cousins have, the ones that live in New York. You hate that your brother is an overprotective ass, but you're happy that you're not an only child. You spoil Justin rotten when it's any kind of holiday, just because you can. Because you love him.

"And you love pretty much any Italian food you can get your hands on. You said you want to spend a year in Rome just to eat the food. Tina thought that you really just wanted to shop there, but I know you really hate shopping and you just do it so you can have clothes, not because you enjoy the process. You think that certain shapes and cuts look bad on you; you never wear tank tops, and leggings are only worn as a last resort because you think you have flabby arms and legs, and that's fucking nuts because you have the hottest body I've ever seen. Believe me."

Paul rolled her onto her back, using her shock to his advantage. "You think political science is an excuse for under-educated kids to get together and act righteous about the judicial system for four months, but you really want to go into politics because your brother is gay and the thought of him being denied anything is unbearable to you. And you know what? You'd be the fucking sexiest, smartest and most successful president in the goddamn world. Because when you put your mind to something, you're fucking brilliant, unless you get lazy and put it off until the night before it's due." He gave a nonchalant shrug, and Jenny trusted that meant that it didn't bother him. Which was good, because it was unlikely that that would ever change.

Paul leaned in so their eyes had nowhere to look other than at each other.

"So I haven't got a damn clue what you're talking about, because I know you, Jenny. I've known you for forever. And..." Paul stopped, clenching his jaw before relaxing at length. "If you want to do this, then I'll pick you up Saturday morning. 8 AM – sharp."

"What?" she yelped. "8 AM? Can't we do dinner like a normal couple?"

Paul wanted to laugh, but he settled for a grin instead. She couldn't have known how not-normal they were. "No. And I'll pick you up at 8, like I said. Wear something nice."

Jenny looked scandalized. "I always wear something nice, jackass."

With a quick kiss, Paul shut her up, taking pleasure in the feeling of her body rolling upwards against him, contouring herself to his chest. "Of course you do," he murmured against her hot mouth. Her eyes fluttered up at him, half-lidded and heavy with desire.

"So...should I tell Mark to forget about the dance?"

Paul pulled back after she asked the question, and for half a second Jenny would have sworn on her life that the eyes looking down on her weren't human. The ferocity in his gaze made her tremble, but not with fear. Delighted quivers ran up and down her spine. Jenny tilted her head at him expectantly.

Paul's teeth gritted tightly. "You can tell Mark"—he all but spat out the name—"that he can go fuck a cactus for all I care. He's not getting anywhere near you."

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," Paul nodded seriously. "He doesn't deserve the piss in your toilet. He sure as shit doesn't deserve the time of day from you."

"But you do?" Jenny asked with a laugh of incredulity. "You think highly of yourself, don't you?"

Paul just shook his head. "I don't deserve you. But I'm a selfish bastard. Mark Holl's just...a prick. And ugly, too."

Jenny burst out laughing, and the sound did something to Paul's heart to make him smile in a sappy, gooey way that made him almost hate himself, were he not so delighted. "Yeah, the dude bitches more than Kida does on her period. Don't tell her I said that," she said sharply after Paul's smile turned evil once more.

"Tell her you said what?" Paul asked, widening his eyes in false-innocence.

Jenny snickered, pulling him in for another wet kiss. "That's my boyfriend..."

Consider this my statement against the amount of fanfiction and media which likes to vilify the "slutty girl" stereotype. If you're going to call a girl a slut for sleeping with a guy, you better be calling the dude the same thing.

Also, apologies for not updating APTB. I've found I have written myself into a crossroads of sorts, where one way will likely extend the plot much further, and the other may get boring. *Sigh* I don't know. I'm still deciding. And writing a disgusting amount of Game of Thrones fanfiction...*blushes in shame* Never fear, I'm still writing it. I just have to make up my goddamn mind, is all.

Anyways. Thanks for reading. I'm already writing more of Jenny, so if you like her, rejoice! And I have more Paul fanfiction saved on my computer than I know what to do with, so be ready for that as well.

Thanks again. Reviews are welcomed and appreciated! ;)

Ciao,

Ella.