I lay in bed later that night running through everything that had happened. Thinking back on how my body had reacted to the way Emb had pushed me into the sand and kissed me briefly—too briefly—there was really no denying anymore that I wanted something physical from him. I had never fucking felt like that with anyone before. Hell, even just sitting with his arms around me had fucked with my head.

I totally fucking wanted him.

I was going to have to find some way to wrap my head around the fucking imprint, or some way to get him the fuck out of my system and move on, because there was no fucking way I was going to go the rest of my life without getting laid again. Fuck, it had already been ten days; I had practically rubbed my dick raw.

Of course, thinking about Emb was making me fucking hard—again. I palmed my dick over the sheet, trying to relieve the pressure; jerking off thinking about him wasn't really the best way to go about trying to get past this fucking obsession I'd developed with Embry. But, fuck, feeling his body pushing me into the ground had been exactly what I had been craving. My hips arched off the bed into my touch and I realized there was no fucking way I was going to get to sleep without taking care of this.

I lazily rubbed my hard-on over the sheet a bit as I thought about all the things Emb had shown me he wanted to do to me. There was no denying it was fucking hot, even if the idea of submitting to him that way kind of freaked me out—okay, more than kind of; it scared the hell out of me. I didn't like being out of control, ever, and that's exactly what he wanted me to give up.

I remembered how he had pinned me against the wall in the living room that first night. Even then, before I knew the full extent of what the imprint entailed, I had practically been ready to bend over for him. Fuck, this imprint voodoo bullshit made me lose my fucking mind. I tried to pull on all the moments he'd touched me at all in the last couple of weeks, remembering the little thrill that ran through me with every single one.

I slid my hand over my stomach and under the sheet remembering the feel of his hands on me, and how he'd said he wanted to taste every inch of my skin.

Fuck.

I stroked myself a couple of times before deciding dry wasn't going to cut it, and I grabbed the lube from the side table. I ran my slicked hand up and down my cock, focusing on the memory of Embry's hands on me; how he'd run his tongue over my throat before kissing me, how he wanted to taste me, how it had felt to have his weight over me and my wrists held—even if it had set off a minor panic attack at the time—how being moved where he had wanted me was so god-damned hot, how he'd pinned me to the floor, how he'd flipped me on my back and covered me with his body tonight on the beach.

Okay, I was clearly more than ready to consider this whole fucked up mess, at least in theory, anyway. I fucking wanted Embry, that wasn't even in question anymore—I wasn't even really thrown by the idea of getting fucked.

Emb fucking me wasn't something I hadn't thought about—fuck I'd hardly thought about anything else in over a week—but I'd never really thought about the reality of that situation, what exactly it would involve. I reached my lube covered hand lower between my legs and lightly rubbed my hole. I wasn't completely unfamiliar with ass play; a couple of the girls I'd been with had fingered me a little while sucking me off, but I'd never even considered doing it to myself.

I pushed against my ass until my finger sunk in to the first joint, making me gasp at the feeling of intrusion. I grabbed the base of my cock in a firm grip with my other hand as a means of distraction more than anything. Fuck, that was intense. I slowly moved my finger in and out a little, getting used the feeling, and tried to think of Embry working me over like this; opening me up so he could fuck me. Jesus, yeah, I was clearly okay with the idea.

I swiped my thumb over the slit in my cock, gathering the bead of pre-come there and stroking up and down in time with my finger in my ass. I added a second finger after I'd relaxed a bit around the first. Two was tight; having Emb's cock up my ass was going to take some fucking work.

I rolled over and tucked my knees up, lifting my ass in the air allowing me to reach behind for a better angle. I arched my back as I slid my fingers all the way back in my hole. I curled them down as I slid them back out and pushed my face into the mattress to choke off the moan that tore out of me. Fuck, apparently gay sex was the answer after all; who gave a fuck what the question was.

It didn't take long from there for things to get a little sloppy. It became less about figuring things out and all about getting off. All conscious thought was gone. I fisted my aching cock and pumped my fingers into my ass and against my prostate, because that was fucking magic or some shit. I came with a shout around a mouthful of my pillow—the old man was actually home for once—and didn't even have enough brain capacity to stop from blowing my load all over the sheets.

I pulled my hand out of my ass and collapsed on my side. The mess would have to wait until the morning because moving after that wasn't really a fucking option.

Things changed after that night on the beach. We didn't go out of our way to avoid touching each other; we just went with what felt natural. It didn't even matter if we were around other people—the only other people we spent time with were pack anyway and they already knew what was happening between us. There wasn't anything overtly sexual about it though, just the need to know that the other one was around: his fingers resting lightly between my shoulder blades as we stood around talking in a group, sitting next to each other at pack meetings or when we ate at Sam and Emily's and letting our thighs touch, shoulders brushing together when we walked, hands left on shoulders a beat longer than normal when parting—just little things, but enough to take the edge off and let us start to think straight. I still struggled with what to do about the imprint, but at least I was able to focus when it came time to put some serious thought into it.

We spent more time alone together too, and it was clear then, that the sexual tension was still there between us. We pushed it aside and kept the boundaries, but I found myself leaning into him, wanting his arms around me. We were almost always touching somehow when we were alone together.

I'm sure rumors would have started to fly around the Res. about us if the whole tribe hadn't already exhausted the rumour mill over the pack. People had stopped staring whenever more than one of us went anywhere, so nobody really took notice of how close Emb and I had become; nobody but Tiffany Call that is.

Emb's mom had been watching us on an increasingly regular basis whenever I was around their place. We kept things casual around her, trying to act like any other guys hanging around, but she'd have to be an idiot not to see that there was more to us than that. She might be a bitch, but she's not an idiot.

I was sitting in the kitchen waiting for Emb to shower after his patrol shift when she came home from shopping one afternoon.

"I think I see you more than my own son, these days," she snipped as she walked past me with her arms loaded with grocery bags. I followed her to the counter and started putting the groceries away—I had been spending that much time there—I could feel her glaring at me.

"Doesn't your father wonder where you are?" she asked with venom in her tone. She didn't like me, I couldn't blame her; I was a bad fucking influence on anyone I came in contact with, and mostly that had been Emb lately. To say the feeling was mutual was an understatement, however.

"No," I shot back at her. I listened to make sure the water was running, so Emb wouldn't overhear me before I continued. I walked up beside her, taking the box of cereal she held from her and lowered my voice, "You think Embry's dad ever wonders about him, Tiff? I bet he does." If looks could kill, I would have fallen over stone dead with the look she gave me. "I bet Emb wonders about him too, huh? Wonders if he maybe has a brother or, maybe a couple of sisters?"

She balked at that, realizing that I wasn't just speculating, but out right accusing.

"You listen to me, you little shit. Drop it. It's none of your God-damned business." She was standing in front of me, punctuating her vehement words with jabs of her finger into my chest. I thought I had been angry before, but a new anger bubbled up inside me as she continued her rant. "I'm his family. He doesn't need anyone but me. You don't get to come in here and tell me what's best for him. You don't know what you're talking about."

"We both know that I do, Tiffany. You can lie to yourself that it doesn't bother him all you want, it doesn't make it true. You keeping it from him is bad enough, but him," I pointed vaguely in the direction of Black's house. "He's watched him grow up and has not said a fucking word about it? How could you let that happen?" Her face paled and her eyes widened. She couldn't even pretend that I didn't know anymore.

I heard the water shut off. I knew I needed to finish this up, or he'd walk right into the middle of it, and if there was even a chance he didn't know that Billy was his father, this was not the way for him to find out.

"Out! Get out of this house!" She bellowed at me.

I tossed the cereal box on the counter and stormed out. I knew Emb would find me easily enough, so I didn't bother waiting around to tell him I was leaving.

I was only waiting a few minutes before he came out and sat next to me on the curb in front of his house. We sat quietly for a while, neither of us saying anything or even looking at each other. My anger slipped away; his closeness calming me. After a while he stood and put his hand out to pull me to my feet as well. Still holding on to my hand, he turned and led me back into the house.

Tiffany glared at me as Embry pulled me back into the kitchen behind him. Her eyes landed on our linked hands before turning her attention to her son.

"He's here because I want him to be, and I'm hoping that he decides to stick around. If you've got a problem with that you should say so now, and I'll find somewhere else to live," his words cut through the quiet kitchen and hit the target exactly as he must have intended them to. Tiffany's face was frozen in shock as she looked quickly between us and settled on Embry again.

"This is not how I raised you," her snide remark was immediately followed by further cutting words from Emb.

"No, Mom, you raised me to question everything about who I am!" he snapped, dropping my hand and stalking forward to loom over his mother. "I know now who I am and what I want, no fucking thanks to you." He turned around and walked back toward me, scrubbing his hands though his hair.

Tiffany's next words stopped Embry in his tracks. "You can do so much better, Embry," she said, her voice quiet but her hate-filled eyes focused on me.

"Yeah, maybe I can, but I don't want better," he answered. I could feel his eyes on me as I watched for her reaction, which never came. I'd had my fair share of shouting matches with my dad but had never been witness to anyone else's before. I wanted to be anywhere but standing in that kitchen with them, but knew I couldn't leave Embry.

Eventually, she turned her attention back to putting the groceries away. He didn't move; standing still like he was expecting her to say something else.

"Come on," I said, turning to Embry and motioning toward the back door with my head. I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him out the door ahead of me, not taking my hand off his shoulder until we were well within the tree line. My mind was freaking the fuck out, but he was on the verge of a melt down so I knew I had to hold my shit together. He had just laid it all out on the line for his mom, not only admitting that there was something happening between us, but telling her that he was looking to make it into something serious—if only she knew just how fucking serious. I didn't know if Tiffany knew about Embry's sexuality before now or not, but she certainly wasn't happy about me being part of that equation.

"Talk or run?" I asked him when we were deep enough into the trees that she wouldn't see or hear us from the back yard.

"Neither," he sighed heavily. He turned to face me, studying my face a moment before stepping forward and burying his face in my neck. He didn't touch me anywhere else, just rested his head where my neck and shoulder met. I didn't know how to respond; I didn't have much experience with affection or comforting anyone when shit went bad, but he clearly needed me to do something. I raised my hand to the back of his neck and I could feel him relax a little at the touch. We stood there quietly for what seemed like a long time before he stood up and pulled away.

"Thanks," he said looking up at me.

"Yeah, sure." I really didn't know what he was thanking me for, honestly, but he seemed so freaked out about the whole situation.

We stood facing each other, only a few inches between us, but not touching at all. He continued to stare at me for a long drawn out minute; his whole body was rigid with tension. He was practically vibrating. I watched quietly, not fully sure what was going on inside his head and left at a complete loss as to how I was supposed to make it better.

He finally broke the tenuous silence by drawing in a deep breath and letting it flood out of his lungs in a heavy sigh before he spoke. "I'm going to run for a while."

I didn't know if I should offer to go with him or not. Part of me wanted to find out what he was thinking about that had gotten him so worked up. I didn't think it was simply the argument with his mom, I was pretty sure that was a pretty regular conversation between them—at least the part about her not fessing up about who his father was anyway. Maybe he was freaking out about having just come out to her about me? From what I had learned about Emb in the last few weeks, that didn't really seem like him though.

"Come by later? She'll be gone to work by 4:30," he asked, stopping my rambling thoughts about what I should do for me.

I nodded. He stood in front of me another minute before turning to walk deeper into the forest, reaching his hand behind his shoulder and pulling his shirt over his head as he went. I forced myself to turn and head back before he dropped his shorts though, I was having a hard enough time keeping my mind focused when he kept his clothes on.