AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was having trouble catching her breath and the ache between her legs became a dedicated throb.
It was only a dream. Why not engage with him a little? Why not talk to him? Maybe do other things? What could it hurt?
She remembered his long light brown hair covered in blond highlights. His braid, which many of the wolves wore and often in different configurations, ran down the center of his back almost to his waist. He was frowning heavily.
She felt a sudden and profound compulsion to go to him. She could see he was troubled, and she wanted to help, to ease his distress.
She rose the rest of the way so that now she was in the garden as well and only a few yards away.
He stopped as he caught sight of her. His brows rose. “You’re here. I was trying to send you away.”
Odd words.
“You don’t want me here?” She could only smile. It was her dream and he was telling her he was opposed to being in her dream. She chuckled softly. “You were frowning.”
“Was I? I guess I was.” He appeared to debate something in his mind then finally said. “This is a very real dream.”
“It is. And you’re wearing pajama bottoms.”
His gaze fell to the purple silk nightgown she wore. It had a simple design and hung loosely over her though the bodice revealed the tops of her breasts. His gaze got stuck there.
She moved in his direction. She felt the grass beneath her bare feet. How odd to be feeling each blade. She could smell the roses as well and loved the feel of the cool sea air on her skin.
“My husband and I were here once, on our honeymoon.” The memories rushed back, of being human and in love, long before her alter transformation and his death during the same process.
They had fed seagulls from their balcony. She’d left a container of yogurt on the patio table and one of the seagulls had helped itself. She’d been charmed. Happy.
Safe away from the drugs and alter serums well-contained within the boundaries of the U.S. She’d dreaded returning to Phoenix where there were dozens of reported alter serum changes every week. It was like winning the lottery in reverse.
Now she was here having a lustful dream about an alter wolf.
When she drew close, he met her gaze, his expression still deeply perplexed. “What are you thinking, Grant?” Saying his name aloud felt good.
“That you were more beautiful than I remember and that I’ve never had such a vivid dream before.”
She chuckled again. “We’re both dreaming then.” Her normal reticence in being around wolves had disappeared. She felt bolder than usual.
He was absurdly handsome with his long hair and strong wolf features. He had marked cheekbones like they could cut something. When he’d battled the wolves in the Graveyard, she’d seen a thin line of golden fur along the same cheek structure. His jaw was strong, lips full. Damn kissable. But it was his eyes that got to her, the serious light in pools of gold-green heat.
She could smell him now, even while dreaming, a wonderful scent like fresh-cut lumber. She knew his reputation, that he’d served his pack well. He was a man who built things, who created order where there had been little before. His wife had died in the pack chaos. She knew that much. She remembered now, that Renee had been sent into the Graveyard on a fool’s errand and had been attacked and killed.
He might be a wolf, but she could respect his desire to protect his people against the bad rule of a self-centered alpha. She also valued that he’d risked his own life to rescue a fae woman.
When he lifted a hand to caress her arm and his gaze followed the movements of his fingers, she didn’t stop him. His touch was warm, even comforting.
“This feels so real,” he murmured.
“It does. Almost like this isn’t a dream.”
He met her gaze once more and stepped closer. “I want to kiss you. Would you allow it?”
In a dream, hell yeah. “I want nothing more.”
His lips curved slightly.
She tilted her head. Her eyes fell shut and she gave herself to the experience of his moist lips on hers. He didn’t try to invade her mouth. Instead, he drifted his lips over hers and his voice was suddenly in her mind. You taste the way you smell, like you’ve been sipping lemonade with mint. I love it.
He moved closer so that his hips connected with hers. She wasn’t surprised to feel his erection firmly against the juncture of her thighs. Nothing had felt better to her in years. She missed her husband and she hadn’t dated much in Five Bridges.
