A/N: Sorry that I haven't updated in awhile. Sometimes one just doesn't feel inspired to write anything down. I hate those spells, but alas… I admit this is more of a filler chapter, but it sets up the stage for some planned plot twists and turns later on. Please leave comments!

…

The next day, with a fake physical card in one hand and the scruff of Seth's neck in the other, we arrived at rowing tryouts. "I don't wanna row," Seth complained.

"You want some cheese with you whine?" I retorted. "I'm not doing this by myself, and nobody else wanted to do it. Ergo… you're doing it…"

"Don't you have Emmett for this?" Seth argued.

"Don't remind me…" I sighed in annoyance. I couldn't convince anyone to row with me. It seemed cool enough to me, but Emmett was more interested in track. I thought about tempting him with sexual favors, but later concluded that Emmett and I—in this type of team atmosphere—would result in one of two things happening. Either we'd get kicked off the team for having sex in the boathouse or we'd get kicked off the team because we couldn't get along as teammates. Yeah, I just re-convinced myself in thinking about it now. Emmett and I apart on this one is a good thing.

I spent all night reading up on the sport including whatever videos I could find. During my pre-school hunting trip this morning, I explored the school's facilities. They were immaculate, but that wasn't hard to believe. The island was full of old money and therefore, the school system was well-stocked with books, computers, and an awesome boathouse, state of the art equipment, and floating bleacher platforms for spectating.

Al saw our approach and met us half way between the parking lot and the boathouse. "Hey guys! Glad to see you both!" Al's smile was enormous, and her blue eyes complemented the lake behind her well. "So this what we got. I'm going to introduce you to the Coach and Danny, and we'll get you all set up in a shell."

"Wait, we're canoeing on the water today?" Seth gulped. He looked uneasy. I followed his gaze and found myself gulping myself.

"Man, those are tiny boats," I commented.

"Yeah, most of the shells are 25 lbs, unless were talking about an eight, those can be a bit heavier. And we're not talking about canoeing, Seth! Rowing. Not everyone gets the terminology right. No big dealio though." Al made it sound like weight was a problem. I was worried about the size itself.

"Rowers!" an older man yelled, "front and center!"

"That'll be Coach!" Al informed. "Good luck!"

"For those who don't know me," the old man threw a thumb to his brawny chest, "I'm Coach Jandron, so call me 'Coach.'" He went over the academic requirements to participate, collected our physical cards, and went over how many boys and girls he could take on this year. "Now nobody's spot from last year is safe accept the team captains." Jandron eyed a tall boy with long ginger locks and freckles indicative of a summer spent in the sun. Jandron also pointed to Al. Was she the girl's team captain? She didn't tell me that one which is pretty modest of her in my book. Sneaky too. Of course she would recruit! Made sense now.

"Anyways," Jandron gained my attention again. "We are going to divide you all into two groups. All those who have touched an oar in their life stay here. All those who haven't over there!" He pointed towards the boathouse.

The skinny ginger, or Danny as he introduced himself led our group of novices to the boathouse while Jandron took the experienced kids down to the water. The boathouse was huge. It had a classroom complete with a chalkboard (rather rare in this era) and desks. There were thirty different shells displayed in several rows of racks. They were painted in our school colors: green with white trim. What caught my attention was that these shells were long, slender, and most importantly, fragile looking.

"One of these shells costs upwards of thirty grand, so… be careful…" Danny warned. "Now that we're away from Coach I'm going to give you the lowdown of Trojan Crew."

"Coach isn't going to waste his time with any of you unless you got skill, so our job is to teach you the stroke and get you on the water as soon as possible. If you don't flip your boat or break it, and show Coach you're worth training, you'll be on the team. He'll let you know by the end of the day. Sounds harsh, and it is, but so is rowing. Any questions?"

"This is stupid," Seth whispered to me below everyone else's hearing range. "Danny's a tool bag."

"No. This is awesome!" I smiled. Danny was a dick, and so was Coach, but I can deal with dicks. I'm mated to one. Well he's only sometimes a dick. I elbowed Seth in the arm. "What's the matter?"

"I'm a wolf, not a salmon," Seth revealed.

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me something I don't know. Look, if you don't like it after the day is over, regardless if you make the team, you don't have to row if you don't want to. Fair?"

Seth's wolfish growl was all I got in response. It would have to be good enough.

"We'll get you shell assignments and show you the stroke," Al said coming up from the experienced group. "Logan and Seth, you take this shell."

Al pointed to an uber thin shell that screamed, "Don't break me supernatural beings, please!" Al showed Seth and I how to lift the shell and the proper commands to use. The shell was light as a feather and between Seth and I, we could toss it a couple of miles without a second thought.

As we slowly lowered the skull into the water, Seth whispered, "Good thing you can mend molecules. I mean, if we bust the boat and all."

I laughed. "Hopefully, I can mend it before we sink…"

"Mend it?" Al asked.

Thankfully, Seth was smart and joked, "Yeah, he has a bunch of duck tape in his pocket…" I tapped my empty shorts pocket.

"Mmmmmmm," she murmured. "You'll sink before you can tape a hole. The shells are stronger than they look though. They may be light, but their tough. Just don't step anywhere that doesn't have the white tape. The taped areas are safe spots."

I glanced over the skull. For a two-seater, there were eight safe spots. For a vampire and a wolf, we needed like… one. I glanced at Seth; he appeared more confident with that information.

"Okay, now that we have all the skulls in the water, I'm going to show you the proper procedure to get in. This way, you won't fall in. Remember it's all about balance and control!" Danny emphasized. He was quick on and off his single shell. "Remember, there isn't an real graceful way of getting on. You just kind of roll on without rolling into the water."

Grace? I thought. I met Seth's eye.

"Yeah, we got grace…" Seth boasted.

One by one, everyone before Seth and I, swamped themselves and their boat. Wow, would all of them get cut? How would we have a team?

"Logan… Seth… your turn…" Danny commanded. Following Danny's model exactly, I got in… The shell barely disturbed the water, and I knew I wouldn't even need the oars to balance in it. The oars, for humans at least, were the necessary component to staying upright. Lose an oar, lose control, sploosh!

Now it was Seth's turn. If he swamp me, so help me! Nope. We were fine. Al assisted us with a push off the dock and we were out in the lake.

"Now do the stroke like we showed you!" Al yelled from the dock. "Come up to the catch! Now, drive! Recovery… Catch… Drive… Keep an even pace!" I briefly thought about swamping Seth and I to keep the illusion that we were novices intact. Not only were we experts in not swamping, we were experts in the stroke.

"You know, I could really get used to this…" Seth laughed. "Being perfect…"

Oh geez. "Never got to be special in La Push, did you?"

"Nope." There was a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"You know though…" Recovery… Catch… Drive… "We better not be inhumanly perfect…" I cautioned. The discussion the night before our first day at school resonated hugely on the water.

"Swamp it?" Seth asked deviously.

"Let go of your oar right after the drive…" I returned the deviousness.

"On it!" Seth announced and we gave it one more stroke. Seth let go of the oar and it smacked at him with a loud crack. With a quick spin and splash, the shell was upside down and we were enjoying the cool waters of the lake.

Danny and Al came up in a double of their own. "You boys alright?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, water is a little cold though…" Seth fake whined.

"Congratulations on catching your first crab, Seth! You both were doing so good too! I hope this doesn't turn you off!" Al began.

A crab?*

I looked to Seth and in unison we yelled, "Nope!" Once we were back in our shell and zipping up and down the lake, Seth and I developed a system to imperfect our perfect performance. He would screw up a stroke or I would almost swamp us, and then we would switch. Towards the end of tryouts, Danny directed us to line up for practice races. We won two of the five. Al and Danny won the other two with another pair of real novices winning the other. I knew Al and Danny intentionally let the novice pair win to promote team spirit, but hopefully Al and Danny didn't know that we also let the novices win, and Al and Danny for that matter too!

After three hours on the water, Coach called us in. We put away the shells with Seth helping Al and all the other ladies. What a ham, er, I mean gentleman, I thought. How has he not imprinted?

"Gather around, boys and girls," Coach said gruffly. "So it probably escaped your notice, but I had all the experienced rowers watch you newbies and help decide who would get on the team and who wouldn't. This is a cutthroat sport, so I'm equally cutthroat." Coach then went on to announce those who made the team and those who didn't. Seth observed that the only ones not to make it hadn't been serious at tryouts—a couple of senior jocks who couldn't play football because of injuries and two freshman girls that were more upset that their mascara was running (please note that we were on a lake, ergo, water) than to practice balance and the stroke.

"Not very cutthroat to me…" Seth whispered.

Agreed.

As the kids who didn't make the team left, Coach called us into huddle. "Now that you're on the team, you got to get the gear. You," he pointed at Seth, "I need to see you in spandex tomorrow or you're cleaning the boathouse for week."

I laughed.

"Excuse me, Coach?" Seth murmured.

Al jumped in then. "What he means, Seth, is that you need tight fitting clothes or you're going to get it caught in the seat track. If the wheels on your seat can't move, you won't move, and will tip instead. See…" Al pointed up and down her slender form in a pair of tight fitting compression shorts and a tight tight tank. My dick stirred a bit, which was most disconcerting. She was pretty, but damn…

"I'll make sure my brother gets some proper attire, Coach," I interjected trying to get some images out of my brain.

"You too, Cullen," Coach pointed at me.

"Yes, sir," I responded.

"Right! Anyways, we have our first regatta in two weeks, and for all you newbies, we're talking game, meet, or competition. Danny will set you up with uniforms before we take off for the regatta, but we have to hit the water hard if we are going to beat Augusta Christian Southern! They edged us out of the state tourney last year and I'm not about to let that happen again." Man, Coach was animated with his hand gestures. I'm not well versed in sign language, but either he creates is own interpretation of what he's saying or he's creating his own language entirely.

Seth and I hopped into my Mustang after Coach let us go. I turned it over and let the beautiful roar of raw American power overtake my senses. My moment was cut short when I heard someone tapping on my window. I turned my head to see that Al was waving like an idiot. "What's up?" I asked as I'm rolled down my window.

"Sweet ride," she complimented. "I just wanted to say thank you, um, to the both of you for coming out to the lake today! I can tell it's going to be a great year! See you later!"

As we sped down the highway towards home, Seth commented, "Man, that Allison chick is real cheery. It makes me kind of sick."

"How sick?" I asked hoping to bait him for a comment I can use against him later.

"Like when you eat too much sugar, like one of those stomach aches…"

I sighed. "Can't say that I've had one of those in years…" Duh, I was a vampire, idiot.

"Right, reminds me of you actually. You smell too sweet, it makes my doggy nose sick." Seth laughed at his own joke.

Yeah, I smelled sweet, but Seth smelled like a wet dog. He was my wet dog though so I had to learn to like it. "Whatever," I murmured.

The early evening faded into dark night and Emmett was regaling me on his exploits on the track team. "You should've been there, babe, I threw that shot put like absolute crap! I heard Coach mumbling like an idiot about how wrong he was thinking my guns would equal a star thrower… Dead wrong!" Emmett kissed his left bicep. The house was buzzing. Jake and Seth were gouging themselves on a pot roast, Ness was orbiting Jake like she always did, and Carlisle was writing in his medical journals with Edward's assistance. Rose was tinkering away on the computer ordering new parts for her car while Bella was contentedly reading in the living room near Emmett and I. I muffled a laugh at Bella's outfit: really old sweats and a baggie sweater that would be too big for Emmett even. Where was Alice on this fashion faux pas? She was out of course, so that meant Jasper was out as well. Those two were inseparable. I needed time away from my man so I could enjoy the time with him. Otherwise the bitch would smother me. He was sort of doing it now.

"Em, you know that this bet is about a lot more serious things than a bet, right?"

Emmett growled quietly. "Babe, I've been doing this 'keep the secret' thing way before your parents were born. This isn't my first trip around the block."

"Its your first trip around the track though!" yelled Jake from the kitchen.

"Well said," Carlisle commented from the library.

I released my eyebrow and it shot straight up. It was becoming my signature look that I gave Emmett whenever I knew I was right regardless if Emmett knew. Adding my signature, "Mmmmmmm" utterance would be over kill in this situation though.

"Agreed," Edward thought out loud.

I caught Emmett's eye then. He sniffed the air. I did the same. Human.

"Allison is at the front gate," Edward announced.

Esme walked over the gate control console and hit the intercom button as soon as Al beeped in. "Hello," Esme chimed. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, this is Allison Wellington, I'm a friend of Logan's."

"Sure, sure, honey," Esme said. "Let me open the gate, one moment." Al's scent increased exponentially in intensity as she approached in her car. We all knew what to do of course. The house was already story-proofed as in, we had a good, believable story for every item, every book, every dust mite. The house looked like normal humans lived in it. Any supernatural thing was hidden or again, could be easily explained away.

Al jumped out of a flashy coral-colored Jeep. If Emmett was a little more flamboyant, I think he would've drooled over the four by four. I looked back to Emmett, and yep, he was drooling.

I met Al on the porch. "Hey, teammate, what's going on?"

"Um," Al started, but was interrupted by Esme.

"Logan Cullen!" Esme spoke with her mother's tone into full gear. "Where are your manners? Invite our guest in."

I held the door open for Al and whispered to her, "Any opportunity for my mother to showoff the house."

"Logan!" Esme shrieked.

Al laughed. "You must be Mrs. Cullen. It's very nice to meet you."

"Oh, you are such a doll!" Esme crooned.

Carlisle conveniently arrived then and offered his hand in greeting. I heated it up for him with my mind in the nanosecond before contact. Yes, call me, Houdini. "We were just finishing up dinner. The boys are cleaning up, but you are welcome to some dessert," offered Carlisle.

"Esme's double chocolate fudge cake is awesome!" Seth called from the kitchen.

"Oh, well, thanks!" Al said. Esme ushered her into the dining room while Seth cut the cake up. He made sure to put a big piece of the nasty ass thing in front of me. Meanwhile, the human girl was having a foodgasm over her piece. "MRS. C! This is just so freaking good! Thank you!" Al moaned.

I felt that stir in my pants again. Fuck me.

"So what brings you over?" Jake asked.

"Oh yeah!" Al stood from her chair at the breakfast island. "I'm here on official captain's business! Logan, Seth… did you buy your gear?"

"Uh…" Seth responded.

"Yeah, I'll take that as a no," Al grinned. "Coach was serious. It's what lost him the tourney last year. Everything now is skin tight. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

Like a siren sounded off, Alice shot into the room. Where did she come from? "Hi, friend!" Alice said cheerfully.

"Whoa!" Al seemed skiddish. "Hi, Alice."

"Did I hear the word 'shopping'?" asked Alice excitedly. Of course she heard it.

Seth and I collectively sighed.

"Yeah, we have to get these boys all stocked up in spandex for tomorrow or Coach will have their heads," said Al.

Seth coughed. "Uh, it's a little late, you think?"

"Nonsense!" Alice exclaimed. "Richard's Sporting Goods is open for another two hours. Something about late night shopping for late night anglers!" Fifteen minutes later, I was trying on spandex that fit me on a glove. It gave me the support that I never wanted in my entire male life. Both the tank top and compression shorts were jet-black and showed off my musculature quite well. I liked that last part. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, I thought. I mean, I am at least that vain. I exited the dressing room and enjoyed witnessing Emmett's eyes bug out. As they darkened, I knew what tonight's festivities would include.

"Better get several sets," Alice said as she grabbed Al by the arm and left us to thumb through the racks for my size.

"How do I look, Em?" I asked approaching Emmett's still frame.

He bent his head down to my ear and whispered, "I cannot wait to tear that fucking spandex from your hide and stroke you until morning." Whoop! I slunk out of Em's grasp and back into the dressing room. I had to get out of these shorts immediately. My raging hardon was enough to tell me that firstly, Al held no candle to my man, and secondly, I needed some Emmett tonight, real bad. I changed back into my khaki sorts and a hoodie in a less than a second.

Coming out of the dressing room, I threw the shorts and the top at Emmett so he could hold it. He smelled it instead. My left eye spasmed. "Babe, ew…"

"I'm not wearing this shit," Seth belted out from his dressing room.

I pivoted on my heel and stared through the door. "You look fine, Seth."

"WHAT!? You can see me?" Seth croaked.

"Please, I've seen way more of this family than I dare admit further," I said trying unsuccessfully to keep those nasty visions from my consciousness.

"Fuck," Seth yelped. "It doesn't fit…" I felt around the locking mechanism and with a not so subtle click, I pulled the door open and got a full frontal of Seth.

"Dude, get out!" Seth stammered.

"Please…" I said sarcastically. I pushed Seth against the far wall and filtered through Seth's size options. "Here, try this one on. It's supposed to be snug. That's the point."

Seth didn't move.

"Now," I boomed. Seth dropped his shirt that he was trying to cover his front. I've already said it before, but I'll say it again: Already seen it. It's like kind of like human food, I can appreciate it, but it certainly doesn't get my rocks off. Emmett's did though… Shit. I'm going to sport a boner in my brother's dressing room. This is way too fucked up.

Seth pulled on the tank and shorts, and well, he looked like a rower.

"Better?" I asked.

"It's still tight. I'm more of a… you know… freeballer… like… you know, the whole wolf thing."

"Yeah, I've known you're not Jewish for like a decade!" Emmett boomed from outside. The whole store heard that. I was going to kill my mate, if Seth didn't first that is.

"You'll get used to it," I said.

"I'm used to Emmett's brand of humor, bro," Seth replied.

"I was talking about…"

"I know," Seth said with a smile.

"You know, you and Emmett are the only two bastards in my life that…" I murmured.

"And that is how I know you love us," Seth laughed.

"Can we go?" Emmett was impatient.

Two hours and four hundred dollars later, our shopping party arrived home. Al couldn't stay long after because she had homework to do. The second Al's car was off the property line Emmett picked me up and carried me to our room. With the door promptly shut and locked for good measure, Emmett demanded that I put the rowing outfit on again.

"Just this one time," I acquiesced.

Emmett let gravity take over and fell into our King size bed. "Yeah, sure…" he mumbled.

Right. I disappeared into our giant closet and switched my comfy attire to tight attire. Emmett's growl greeted me as I stepped back out into our room. His were dark obsidian. They pierced my soul, and my spandex. I walked over to meet Emmett at the bed. His eyes followed every motion of my body, every nuance of form and function. He was scooted up the bed with back against the headboard, His dick was pushing hard on his jeans.

In less than a breath, Emmett flipped out of the bed, grabbed me, threw me down, and tore my spandex off. Yeah, he wasn't allowed to see me in spandex, ever. I only got so many pairs. Our lovemaking was not so loving that night, more needy, hot, heavy, and fast. Too fast in my opinion, but the best part about having a vampire to love was the recovery time was instantaneous.

…

The week progressed quickly and by Saturday morning, Carlisle, Esme, Seth, and I were attending the first track meet of the season. I came out to see Emmett lose at his events and therefore win the bet against me. We still hadn't ironed out the details on that bet and it was starting to freak me out how accurate Emmett was in his statistics. He was literally average in every event. Distance, speed, accuracy… all average. He nailed the 1000-meter dash so that his time would be 75% the difference between the fastest and slowest time. Then, he threw the shot put 75% the difference between the farthest and shortest throw. Bastard. What was the worse, was in between his events, all these nasty ass hoes—girls and boys—thought it cute to flirt with him. He didn't win ladies and gentlemen. Move along!

"Stop bitching," Seth chided under his breath.

Esme let out a motherly gasp. Like that wasn't expected?

"Hey, Logan!" a girl's voice startled me from behind. It was Al. The girl had a unique voice—it pierced the air. She and her family were sitting a few rows up on the bleachers.

"What's up?" Seth asked as she moved down and stood before us.

"Uh, nothing much, you?" Al asked awkwardly.

Uh? "Anyways," I began. "What's up?"

"Can I talk to you two about some Crew stuff?"

"Uh, yeah," Seth agreed and got up.

I joined the two as they descended a dozen bleachers and out of the assumed hearing range of my "human" parents. Al's eyes flashed deviously. "Yeah, so no real Crew gossip to report, but yeah… there's a party tonight in the woods near Acadia Cliffs. You'll be there, right? Get your brothers and sisters to go. You know, to get the real Mount Desert High experience and all."

We were all about experiences. Seth caught my eye and nodded. I nodded myself. "Would you like a ride?" I offered.

"Nah, I'm gonna go with Hayley. We gotta primp and stuff." Right. Primp. I looked out to the track were Hayley was throwing the shot put. Sweat poured down her face and funneled down into her very apparent cleavage. Seth must have caught my line of sight because I heard his already fast heart beat putter faster and scented a subtle pheromone switch—the typical heterosexual unimprinted male shifter response. You know, that old thing.

"Okay, sounds good, Al," I said. "We'll see you there."

"Awesome! Starts at dusk, but the real party isn't until midnight!" Al gave me a quick hug and was off.

Seth and I settled back up next to Carlisle and Esme. Esme sighed, judgment coloring every sound. "It's not like we are actually underage, Mom," I attempted to rationalize. It failed miserably.

"I know how old you are, Logan Cullen," Esme spat. "I just don't believe becoming a member of the 'cool crowd' should mean you associate yourself with the drinking crowd as well."

"Yeah, but I doubt they are mutually exclusive, Esme," Seth laughed. He had a point.

"Okay…" Esme sighed, the judgment chronic now. I rolled my eyes and took my bleacher seat next to Seth.

…

Hours later, the Cullen children were preparing for their first night of illegal teen debauchery. Sometimes I had wondered why the likes of Jasper or Edward would ever want do stuff like this, being as old as they were. Edward popped his head into my room and answered my question, "When your immortal, finding stimulating things gets exponentially harder as the years go by."

Fair enough.

"And I'm not old," he spat.

I smiled and Emmett rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Eddieman," I replied, closing the door in his face. I rested my back on the door and observed Emmett as he got ready. He had freshly showered and was walking around in nothing but a white towel wrapped tight around his waist. His gait is what got me. So long, so confident, so masculine. I gulped hard. He bent to grab some shoes and I let out a low, guttural growl at the sight.

Emmett turned slightly to look over his shoulder at my piercing gaze. He smiled slyly. He bent down again and picked up another pair of shoes, but remained down there, giving me a full view of his wonderful cloth-clad ass. And then there was the way his back arched, accentuated by the strong muscle fibers beneath. They pushed against his skin, creating the perfect chiseled form. I became determined to get a piece of Emmett's peach cobbler or whatever the hell he used to eat in Tennessee, tonight. He must have sensed my intentions because he pulled the cord on the drapes. As the panoramic view of the Atlantic faded, he touched the knot that held his towel in place.

"Nope," I announced. I lifted him with my ability and set him gently face down on the center of our bed. He made no effort to move. I shed my own clothes, desiring the carnal skin on skin contact. The only thing that separated us now was a bare bit of air and his towel. I made short work of the air and sat atop his hindquarters. Still he made no effort to move. He also made no sound. He just waited.

I bent forward and pushed his hands far above his head. I became fascinated as his back muscles rearranged themselves with his new position. "Beautiful," I whispered. My dick agreed as it was at full mast, resting uncomfortably on his towel. I kissed down his left hand, elbow, shoulder, and up to his burgeoning neck. A fire seemed to consume me beginning where my lips grazed him. It tore through my body and I became heated. It was a good heat though. I found his neck again. He hissed when I bit down, pain mixed with pleasure. His body shuddered, but he kept himself controlled. I licked the wound, my venom sealing it shut without any scar.

My fingers followed the contours of his back and I would mix and mold them invariably. He let out a quiet whine, which I had to admit was both unexpected and hot as hell. Emmett Cullen wasn't the kind of guy who whined yet… He. Was. Whining.

"Don't stop," he whispered. His voice broke me out of my lusty reverie and I realized that I had indeed stopped. I returned to his shoulders and massaged away any stress he might be carrying. I followed his contours to the small of his back. He moaned when I applied pressure to his sides. I peered back behind me and saw his toes were clutched tightly together. I lifted myself and pulled the towel away from him. As I sat back down, my aching hardon fell into his crevice.

I inhaled his sweet scent and it clouded my brain. It called to me. Like a singer, I couldn't resist it, or him. I had never met my human singer thankfully; he would have to do for now. The musk; the saccharine; the raw, unadulterated, sexpot. He was mouthwatering. I had to taste of him. I rested against him, my front flush against his back. I growled deeply at Emmett's ear as my dick pressed hard at his opening. He said nothing, did nothing. We had never been in this state before.

Emmett and I were adventurous and imaginative when it came to our sex life, but Emmett preferred the control. He preferred to top. I preferred to submit, to bottom. My ability, my life was about control and releasing it, especially to someone I loved so much, was like having my cake and eating it too. But I would see where this would go, see where Emmett would go with me.

I let my papery tongue feel the curvature of his ear. I rolled it between my lips and he pushed his hips into me with a lurch. His hands clung to comforter with a vengeance. It was already torn, feathers floating upwards. He pushed his hips upwards again. I realized then he wanted friction. He wanted pressure. He wanted me to…

I gulped. "Are you sure?"

He nodded.

I raised my eyebrow in a sly smirk. I moved to the nape of his neck and darted my tongue against his skin. It tasted as sweet as his scent was to my nose. Venom pooled in my mouth as I traversed down the bumps of his backbone. Goosebumps flew up in a fury at my progression and he whined again.

Tension filled him as I approached his prize. I kissed either cheek of his ass and kneaded them under my hands. He pushed up again, attempting more contact with me. I was already a step ahead. I pushed his globules apart and witnessed his nub of flesh. His entrance.

I waited for Emmett then. I waited for his permission, for his trust in me.

He nodded again.

I ran the length of his valley from his balls to the small of his back in a short glide, venom coating everything. Emmett spasmed and came in a torrent. His whines of pleasure went straight to my dick and I about spontaneously combusted. Minutes went by and eventually Emmett settled down. I waited again, thinking that perhaps this is how far we were allowed to go this evening. He turned his head to one side and sighed. "Please, Logan. I want you to." His sheer desperation, his desire and devotion made me pant. Venom coated my tongue again and I knew where to put it. I shot to Emmett's entrance once more and probed it more fully. He spasmed again, but this time he was better prepared and didn't come right away. I let my venom spill down to his balls and I massaged them. I slunk my hand beneath him and gave his cock a few strokes. He bucked his hips down hard, seeking contact.

On my own end, I wanted, no, I needed him. I needed to… own him? Yes! And further, he needed to know that. I blew a cool breath against his ass and in return I got his sigh. It was both reassuring and cute. Yeah, he was cute when he sighed. I'd have to remind him of that. Taking his reassurance in one hand (metaphorically), I pushed a digit of my other hand into Emmett's warm, tight heat. It was well lubricated with my venom, but I knew that I would have to prepare him for me. I knew my length and girth, Emmett did too, but his ass sure didn't.

Even with one finger, he hissed when I entered him. I knew the pain was a good one, but it was pain nonetheless. At one moment, when he didn't seem to be getting used to it, I thought about stopping altogether. But that surely would've been more terrible for Emmett. He was the kind of guy who felt he could do anything. His definition of "anything" definitely included this, I knew him that well. So, I committed. I spit more venom down and took my time. Patience was key here. For all intents and purposes, Emmett was losing his virginity. Being gay had so many perspectives.

Soon enough, Emmett's contorted face became calm, almost relieved. He started to buck his hips back and forth on my finger and I knew that two fingers were needed. By the third digit, I concluded that he was ready for the real deal. Me. Three digits wasn't my equivalent, thanks to genetics and venom, but this first experience needed to be special. Nothing quick.

I pulled Emmett up so that he was up on all fours at the end of the bed. His fleshy entranced screamed for my dick, and it replied by spewing more venom. I stroked myself and made sure I was well coated in lubrication. I would minimize his discomfort at all costs.

"Ready?" I whispered huskily.

"Yeah," he whispered back. What a role reversal. What a fucking turn on! With one hand on his hip and the other at the base of my dick, I pushed slowly, gently, and evenly into Emmett. He was tight. He was hot. I was panting like a damn teenager, my dick threatened to explode with each millimeter. I raked my eyes open. I couldn't see his face, but the strain in his back told me was I was going too fast. I was hurting him. I stopped and pulled out slightly.

"NO!" he roared. "I'm getting used to it."

I hesitated. I needed some encouragement.

"Please?" he whined. "I want this." Hot damn, that whine! But I was only half way in. Fuck it! I kept pushing and gritted my teeth. My hips bumped into his ass and I was in, balls deep. And hot damn squared, it was fucking awesome.

"Tell me when I can, you know…" I growled. I was becoming delirious. I had my mate for the first time. I had Emmett. He was mine.

Emmett started to pull forward and backward. That was him telling me that I could, you know…

I grabbed Emmett's hips and gritted my teeth. I pulled my dick almost out and then slid my tip right back in. Emmett yowled in pleasure. He flung his hand back and grabbed my own ass. He held it tight as if pushing me forward, forward into him. I was only too happy to oblige.

I massaged his sides as we fell into a pleasurable rhythm. With each stroke, I came close to release and now was becoming more aggressive and definitely more needy. A needy Emmett was hot too. Fucking yes! He met me each stroke and my balls slapped hard against his ass. I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him upright. The change in orientation gave us both a different feeling and even more pleasure. I snaked one arm around is chest and another to his steel hard cock.

"Are you read for me, baby?" I growled in his ear. I may be shorter than him, but the way we were situated made me tower over him. He grunted as if words were too difficult to utter now. Good enough for me.

I stroked his cock hard and furious. His ass clenched onto my aching cock, which pushed me to fuck harder into him. Our climax came on hard and fast. He grunted again and came all over my hand. His ass turned into a vice grip, and I yelled his name as I came hard and deep. We quivered together as we came down from our high. I rubbed my cum-filled hand on Emmett's abs and it made me get hard again. He growled and pushed himself back and forth on my length.

We fucked again then.

…

"So you liked it?" I asked, having fucked Emmett for the third time. I pulled out of him and we laid side-by-side, staring the ceiling. I was utterly content.

He rolled over onto his stomach and ground his hips into the destroyed comforter. He craved more friction. "Yeah, I liked it. A lot," he whispered, his voice muffled by the torn fabric.

I glanced over at the clock and noticed that it was half past midnight. The party started hours ago. "Come on, bottom bitch," I slapped Emmett's ass with a loud, resonating crack, "We got a party to go to!" I hopped out of bed and was halfway across to the bathroom, when a solid piece of male tail threw me against a wall. His body was held plush against my own, and I hardened instantaneously.

"I am nobody's bottom bitch," Emmett roared in my ear. He bit my neck and my eyes slammed shut in pain and pleasure. Damn, were we turning into masochists? I grabbed his hips and pushed him away from me, a sly smirk was plastered across his face. He was challenging me.

I pulled him into the bathroom and ran a scolding hot shower for two. As I soaped up his back, I grabbed onto his length and pulled it and him against my own length. I whispered harshly, "One—you are my bottom bitch." I stroked his cock to remind him of this fact. He didn't protest and even pushed his ass against me.

I slunk around him and hopped up into his strong arms. Straddling him, I ground my hips. "Two—I am your bottom bitch," I said with a smile. "Sometimes."

He shook his head and laughed. God, I loved this man.

Minutes later, Emmett and I were ready to go. I had dawned on a comfortable pair of white wash jeans, which Alice hadn't gotten her hands on and thrown away, along with simple navy sweater. My Carhart boots and North Face jacket would give me the warmth that I appeared to need. Emmett waltzed out of our closet in piercing black jeans, a white tank covered by a long-sleeved flannel plaid shirt. Damn, I loved him in flannel and plaid. Emmett feels and looks too good in it.

"Ready?" he asked.

I pointed towards the window and opened it up with a flick of my wrist. "I can't take anymore of Esme's judgment." We hopped out the window and landed just passed the wraparound porch. From behind me, I heard Esme's sigh. Shit. Emmett grabbed my hand as I turned to meet Esme's judgmental gaze. Carlisle was seated next to her on a wicker loveseat. They both didn't like the illegality of underage drinking that we would surround ourselves with tonight.

"You know," Emmett rationalized. "If it's, um, any consolation, we'll make sure nobody drives drunk tonight."

They said nothing. Whatever. I pulled on Emmett's hand and walked around the house towards the barn. From there it was a short run to the other side of the island. We followed the forest until it hit some cliffs overlooking one of the many bays. The scent of burning cedar, stale beer, and sloshed humans wafted in the air. Yep, we were here. We pulled back some bushes and found ourselves in the center of the party.

Three large bonfires illuminated the debauchery. Someone had hooked up a sound system to a generator and it was blasting good beats. I felt the urge to dance, but thought it better to check in with Seth. As we searched around the party I took in the sights. Al was dancing with a group of people I didn't know. Others from Crew were shot-gunning beers to see who could get through a six-pack fastest. Finally, I came upon Brianna who was puking her life away.

"Vodka doesn't sit well with her," Seth commented from behind. As I turned to meet him, he gave me a fist bump, and handed Brianna a water bottle.

"Fuck that shit!" she screamed.

"The water?" I asked.

"No!" She wretched again. "Booze! I'm never drinking again!"

Al wobbled over and through an arm around me. "Yeah," she slurred her words. "Tonight was Brianna's first night of drinking of everrrrr."

"One shot led to this," Seth finished.

Brianna started to puke again. "Yuck!"

"Will you be okay?" I asked, the memory of Emmett's promise to Esme and Carlisle about drunk driving blasting across my consciousness.

Brianna composed herself and rolled her eyes. "Yeah… I really had only one shot and its… Yeah, it's on the ground right there." I chose not to look.

Emmett guffawed. I joined in, but stopped suddenly when Seth's gaze caught my own. "What?" I asked.

Seth gave me a knowing look. He was saying, "I know what you and Emmett were doing."

I punched him in the arm, fracturing his humerus. Fitting for the funny boy!

"Fucking A!" he yelled. "What was that for?"

I pointed my finger. "You know!"

"Being typical high school teenagers?" Seth suggested, rubbing his arm. "Like—sports, sex, and partying?"

Emmett nodded. "Sounds about right."

*A/N: The phrase "catching a crab" is crew-speak for losing control of your oar after you take a stroke and the oar whips back at you with surprising force. In most instances, you have to swing under the oar or you'll flip the shell. I recommend you search the phrase on the Internet to get a better picture. They can be pretty hilarious to witness. When you catch one yourself, it sucks majorly.