First Imprint [Book 1] ✔️

11 • Heat

EMILY'S POV

I woke up feeling slightly confused before memory returned. Sam. I could feel his warm body wrapped around me from behind. That's what woke me up, I think, the heat. The hot arm around my hip felt like a heating pad. I had to twist carefully on my back to use my good arm to gently lift his arm off my body. He turned on his back, his one arm still reaching out in sleep to touch my side.

I stared at his face that was angled my way. My breath caught as I looked at him. He was beautiful. His long black eyelashes rested over high cheekbones. His thick eyebrows were angled in a frown as though his subconscious had registered that he was no longer holding me. His lips were perfect, not too large or thin. They were perfect for kissing.

I sighed as I looked back up at the ceiling. Kissing was all we did the night before. Ironically, he was the one who pulled back first, because I stupidly had whimpered in pain when I had tried to reach for him. The pain from my shoulder and rib area prevented me from moving like I had wanted to.

After I whimpered, he had immediately jumped out of bed to get me a glass of water and my pain pills out of my skirt pocket. He gently scolded me for not telling him the pain was getting bad and assisted me in sitting up so that I could swallow the pills. He helped me change out of my skirt and loaned me one of his shirts to sleep in.

He was the perfect gentleman much to my disappointment. But I think he understood my pain even better than I did and refused to go any farther then holding me in his arms. We laid together for a long time as he told me more of the legends that turned out to be true. I was surprised to learn that the tribal council considered him chief of the tribe. Sam told me though that that would change if Jacob Black became a werewolf. If he chose to take it, Jacob would inherit the title because his great-grandfather was the last tribal chief.

When I became too sleepy, he had held me closer and I had felt safe and loved. Throughout the night, whenever I was somewhat coherent, I felt him gentling kissing my hair, the scarred side of my face, and my injured hand over and over as though he were trying to kiss away the pain.

I knew that it wouldn't be until mid-September before my rib healed and as for my arm, I had six months of physical therapy to look forward to. It wouldn't be so bad. Sam said he'd drive me to every appointment and would stay the length of the long sessions. He also had volunteered to help me with my exercises that I was supposed to do at home. I looked back over to him and noticed that his eyes were open and he staring at me with a strange smile on his face.

"What?" I asked, smiling because I couldn't help myself.

"I just wondered if anyone else in our tribal history has ever had so much trouble with their imprints before."

"Oh, I was trouble was I?" I turned and with my good arm, poked his side. He laughed, rolling us both over until I was on my back again and he was carefully hovering over me.

"Yes, but definitely worth it," he said, leaning over to kiss the scars on my neck. Just as I was about to sigh in contentment, he pulled back.

"When I think about what I had to go through just to get you to talk to me. You really think I needed candle wax? I don't even know what you do with it." I laughed as I thought about some of the off-the-wall purchases Sam had made on his daily visits to the store.

"And yet here you are in my arms. I didn't think you would ever speak to me after what happened." His face became serious. I reached up with my left hand and touched the short crop of hair on his head before cupping his face.