Rating: MA for lemons.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stefenie Meyer. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Tuesday morning

Jacob shoots up suddenly out of bed. He's clawing out at thin air. He's panting. He's disoriented. His erection puts normal morning wood to shame. He can still taste Bella on his lips. Feel her wet heat clenching around his fingers. He wants to go back. He's tempted to run across town, crawl up her window, and pin her down to finish what they started. His body aches to press against hers.

Instead he settles for trying to determine what woke him from his dream. He listens carefully. Billy is still asleep; he can hear steady breathing from his father's bedroom. No wolves howl outside. He carefully sniffs the air. There's no trace of burning, oversweet decay and bleach in his nose. The phone is silent. So basically, nothing at all woke him up.

He sighs heavily. At least this time he didn't come all over his own bedsheets. It spares him the extra chore of doing a load of laundry, anyway, and the embarrassment of Billy noticing him washing his sheets two days in a row. Billy's not stupid. He'd know exactly why his hormonal, teenaged son would wash his bedding again, and it's not due to some newfound dedication to cleanliness. He lies still and tries to will his erection away. He tries to focus on the pain of his injuries to make his arousal fade. It doesn't work. He wants to pick up his dream right where it left off. He was just getting to the good part. She was coming, again, with overwhelming force. He was going to give her a few minutes to recover, and then he was going to finally, finally, slide his cock in. All the way.

Okay, this isn't helping at all. He gives up and heads for the shower. There's only one way to get rid of his erection. He stands under the hot spray and allows the water to relax his overtaxed muscles. He braces himself against the tile with his left hand, and takes himself in hand with his right. He loses himself in the memory of the night before. He pictures himself tracing her most sensitive spots. His tongue swirling on the backs of her knees, tracing along her flanks. He grips himself hard. He groans aloud, thinking of the soft skin where her neck meets her shoulder, and that spot behind her ear. He pumps his shaft, pausing to smooth his precum over his sensitive head. He remembers flipping her over and teasing along her chest and arms, finally taking her nipple into his mouth and sliding his fingers into her body. His balls tighten against him, and he reaches down with his other hand to fondle them. Her cries of pleasure ring in his memory, and that's it. He's coming hard, hot jets emptying uselessly down the drain.

Later in the morning, he makes his way to Sam's house for another pack meeting. Emily greets him at the door with a warm smile, a soft hug, and two huge blueberry muffins. He's the last one there. Everyone has arrived except Embry, who is currently running patrol. Their voices are low and concerned.

"It only came up the shore a few feet. Like it basically stepped out, looked around, and decided to head directly back into the water," Brady is explaining.

Quil chimes in, "We checked absolutely everywhere. The only other trails we found were all old and stale."

Sam questions, "What about the trees? We've lost them up there before."

"Dude, we really looked everywhere. Embry and Collin came to help out, and we must have climbed, like, two hundred trees yesterday. No fresh trails except the one on the shore."

"Anybody hear how that guy is doing? The one you pulled out of the water?" asks Paul.

Sam nods. "Chief Swan said he's fine. Didn't even have to stay the night at the hospital. He doesn't know anything useful, apparently, which is probably a good thing for his sake." He turns to Brady. "Good job, man. That guy's alive because of you."

Brady ducks his head. He's still just a kid, really, despite the crazy turn his life has recently taken. He would probably be blushing if his skin was light enough to show it, "I don't think I actually did anything, though. It's not like I dove into the water and wrestled the vampire away."

Jared adds, "You scared it away, Brady, and so you saved that guy's life. May as well take credit where it's due."

Jacob can tell that Brady is still embarrassed, so he switches the subject. "So who do we think it was? I know what I saw yesterday, and I also know that the bitch is already dead. Anybody have any ideas?"

Seth sticks his hand up like he's in school. "After everything calmed down, I went down to the beach. The scent definitely doesn't belong to the vampire I helped tear apart last week. It's something different, but it did seem familiar."

Sam nods. "There were so many leeches at that battle last week that it was nearly impossible to distinguish all their scents, but I agree that this one smells sort of familiar. It must have gotten away from us somehow, and is still sticking around for some reason."

Paul is staring out the window. "How the hell are we supposed to cover the ocean? We can't exactly phase into sharks and dive into the water."

"Tell me about it," Quil mutters.

Paul turns to him, incredulous. "Oh my god, that's what you were trying to do last night?" He barks in laughter. "When I phased in to patrol last night, I sensed this moron doggy paddling in the ocean. I thought you were just trying to see if you could find a trace of the rogue vamp!"

"Hey!" Quil defends himself, "We're not actually werewolves, right? We're supposed to be shapeshifters, aren't we? So in theory we should be able to turn into something else, shouldn't we?" Everyone else is howling with laughter and clutching their sides. Quil yells, "It was worth a shot!"

Sam is trying to hold in his laughter. "You need to pay more attention when Billy tells the legends, man." After several minutes of everyone ragging on Quil, he tries to get the pack to focus. "But seriously, anyone have any suggestions about how to protect the water? We can concentrate our patrols along the shore, but we can't exactly run along the beach in midday in wolf form, or keep people out of the water."

"Maybe we can," Jacob breaks in. Everyone turns to look at him. "Beaches get closed for all kinds of reasons. Bad weather, chemical spills, jellyfish attacks. A few years back, my sisters went to Florida for Spring break. They came home all pissed because the beaches were closed because of a red tide. Something about toxic algae blooms, and no one was allowed to go swimming. We can fake a report like that, get the council to put some kind of temporary restriction on swimming, until we can catch this vampire."

"How are we going to make the water red?" Quil asks.

Jared rolls his eyes. "I don't think red tides are always actually red, dude. And anyway, who's going to argue with the council? Some under cover marine biologist is going to show up at the beach with a microscope and tell us we're wrong?"

Sam ends the discussion. "It's a great idea. I'll get the council to do it. And I'll see if the Cullens can meet up at the treaty line tonight. We're due for an update. I want to know if they've been holding back any info on this latest threat."

The meeting breaks up and turns into a free-for-all of Emily's kitchen. It only takes minutes for the pack to decimate three hours of her labor. Jacob stops to thank her. "Em, the food was amazing as usual. Did we leave anything behind for you guys to have for dinner?"

"As a matter of fact, no," she laughs. "I'm headed to the store in a few minutes. I should get you guys to build me a warehouse in the back yard. I'll order food wholesale and get 18 wheelers to deliver right to my front door."

"Do you want a hand with the shopping? I can't patrol yet since I can't phase again for a bit, and Billy doesn't need me for a few hours."

"Really? That would be great, Jake. I usually need two carts to get everything, and when I'm alone it's really awkward to drag them both around. Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

Truth be told, it's a welcome distraction. He's sure that left to his own devices, the only thing he'll accomplish is a lot more brooding over Bella Swan. Or, worse yet, lusting after Bella Swan. Probably both simultaneously. "It's really the least I can do, Em. You take such good care of us." He grins, "And I have an ulterior motive. Seeing as I'm likely to partake in the results of your shopping, I can influence the choice of purchases and come back to enjoy them later."

While Sam gathers the council to seek a restriction on swimming at the beach, Jacob and Emily head to the store to restock her pantry.

"How are you holding up, Jake?" she asks gently.

"Sore, but I'll live. I just need to avoid phasing a bit longer."

"I heard you re-broke a couple bones yesterday. Did you see the doctor?"

He looks startled and shakes his head. "I don't plan to unless it's absolutely necessary."

"You'll get better, I know you will." They both understand she's not talking about his body anymore. Jacob isn't entirely convinced, but Emily is. It will just take time. She's not at all sure that Bella Swan will figure out just how much better Jake is suited to her than her own fiance, but she is sure that Jake will make it through this heartbreak. It's just not in his nature to break down.

He distracts her by insisting on paying for the groceries. She tries to stop him, but he knows that Sam and Emily don't have a lot to spare. Neither does he, of course, but he's only trying to keep one hungry werewolf fed on his budget, not the entire pack. "Nuh uh, Em. You do all the work, and don't pretend like it's nothing. Plus, you and I know that this doesn't even cover one month's worth of the food I eat out of your kitchen."

Emily thinks to herself that Jacob really is a catch. Too bad Bella Swan is too wrapped up in Edward Cullen to see it. But she won't judge. She, of all people, knows that you can't always help whom you love.

The shopping trip doesn't take up nearly as much time as Jacob had hoped. He finds himself with most of the afternoon and evening stretching out in front of him, with little to fill it other than thoughts of his Bells. He only has two tasks to complete for the rest of the day. He should cook dinner for himself and Billy (but cooking always reminds him of Bella), and his bike needs a new clutch cable and a tune up (but working on his bike always reminds him of Bella).

Morosely, he looks in his refrigerator to realize that he spent the past two hours shopping, but brought no food home. There's not much to make other than jarred spaghetti. At least there's one more pack of ground chuck in the freezer, so he can have some meat sauce. He defrosts it in the microwave, browns it, and sets the sauce to simmering.

Now the only thing left to do is work on his bike. He manages to keep his thoughts neutral while replacing the clutch cable, but feels drained by the time he's done. He hasn't done anything taxing today, but trying not to think about Bella is sapping his energy. He's probably also using extra energy in the process of knitting together his broken bones. A few weeks before, he had dragged a slightly broken, hand-me-down loveseat into the garage. It's collapsing in the middle, and the color has faded from a bright blue to an uneven gray. It's never looked so inviting. He lowers his frame into it slowly. He'll just sit for a few minutes, and then he'll replace the fluids in the motorcycle.

Three hours later, Billy comes looking for him. It's not like Jake to skip a meal. His father finds his large frame sprawled across the small seat. Falling out of it, really. Billy wonders why Jake even bothered with the chair. It's small enough that he may as well have just lay a few blankets on the ground; it would be more comfortable. He's tempted to get a quilt and tuck his boy in, but realizes how silly it is, with Jake's skin so hot. He turns off the light in the garage and wheels back into his house.