Sweet Dreams

Chapter Two

The dark green wooden siding and gray slate of Simon’s craftsman home was topped by a dark gray A-line roof supported by the traditional pillar and post design so common to the architecture. His favorite part of the house was his open, extended front porch. It ran half the length of the house and well into the front yard, making it more like a small deck than a porch. He’d installed a wooden porch swing off to one side where he could sit, beer in hand, and think after a long, hard day. The glass insert in his front door was his own design, a stylized cat’s head with jade green eyes just like Becky’s. The house was deeper than it was wide, with the two-car garage towards the back of the house.

Simon pulled up into his driveway, content for the moment to have his mate beside him despite the scent of her blood. He pressed the button to open the garage doors, pulling the truck in and killing the engine.

He pressed the button again, closing the garage door and sealing Becky in his home. The Puma in him purred, knowing their mate was now in their den, even if it was only temporary.

Her bleeding had slowed; if it hadn’t, he would have bitten her before they left and to hell with who saw what. Her well-being was the most important thing in the world to him. Seeing Livia crouched over her, Becky’s blood smearing her lips, had driven that fact home forcibly. If he’d had any doubts that Becky was his mate that little scene in the Friedelinde’s garden had set them to rest permanently.

The bitch was lucky Becky hadn’t asked for her life, even jokingly. Simon would have killed her without a second’s hesitation for spilling his mate’s blood. And with the Alpha present he would have been well within his rights. Jonathon Friedelinde wouldn’t have batted an eye. As the old Alpha he’d seen his fair share of bloodshed.

The only thing that had stopped him had been seeing the fear on Becky’s pretty face. Fear of him.

He was going to have to work on that.

He took a moment to study her as he got out of the truck. She was too thin and jittery, something else he planned on doing something about.

Her wildly curling light brown hair floated around her face as she watched him move around the hood of the truck. She was smart enough to stay put when he opened her door, allowing him to carry her into their home. He carried her through the mudroom and straight through the kitchen into the great room. He was pretty sure his feisty mate would kick him in the nuts if he tried to carry her straight to the bedroom.

He set her gently down on his sage green couch, enjoying the way the color lit up her pale skin. He hadn’t consciously chosen the colors of his home with her in mind. It wasn’t until he set her down on the couch and he saw the way her skin came alive that he realized he’d done his entire home in colors suited to her. The result was light, warm golden walls and bright, fun fabrics that brought her coloring to life. The fabrics were soft to the touch, almost like velvet. He’d gone with the lighter wood tones, opting for maple wherever possible, with little touches of black here and there to bring the whole thing back to earth. Yet another way his Puma had tried to get his attention, and he’d ignored it.

If a man could kick his own ass, Simon’s would be bruised all to hell and gone. If he’d mated her months ago when he first realized what was happening she would have been able to kick Livia’s ass. In short, it was his fault that she’d been hurt.

“Whoa.” Becky looked around, taking everything in, much to his amusement. This was the first time she’d been in his home. He hoped she liked it, because if he had his way she wasn’t leaving it. The sofa he’d put her down on was a sectional with an attached chaise; the coffee table and entertainment center were contemporary in design. The glass in the center of the maple coffee table was Simon’s work, depicting a puma with jewel-bright eyes stalking through the woods. “It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

Her expression was pleasantly surprised. “Something a little more ‘bachelor slob’ and a little less ‘comfy contemporary’.”

He grinned. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” She winced as she tried to sit up and take everything in. He leaned over her and helped her, wincing along with her until he had her in a comfortable position. Her look of gratitude was all the thanks he needed.

Simon walked away but quickly came back with a bowl of warm water and a washcloth. “Okay, shirt off.”

Becky raised her brows in challenge.

Simon sighed. “I have to see how bad the cuts are. And the bite mark.” He glared at the side of her neck, his lips tight, hands clenched around the bowl. Even with the enzyme changing her that scar would more than likely remain. Damn, he should have just gone ahead and killed the bitch. The fact that Livia had left a permanent mark on his mate had his Puma snarling again.

“I’m not taking my shirt off.” She almost crossed her arms over her chest but winced as the pain in her stomach stopped her.

“Oh yes you are, baby.” Simon put the bowl down on the table and perched on the edge of the chaise.

“Those wounds need to be cleaned.”

“That’s what doctors are for, Oh Artiste.”

Simon grinned. With one swift move, he ripped her shirt open from neck to waist. “All duh…you didn’t wear a bra.” His tongue tripped all over the place. Becky’s beautiful breasts were bared to his delighted gaze. They were small, the nipples rosy pink. They perked up slightly in the cool air. He could feel his IQ drop by ten points just from staring at those beautiful nipples. He literally felt his thought processes grind to a halt as all of the blood rushed out of his head and pooled in his dick. If it wasn’t for the blood all over her stomach and shoulder he’d be having a much harder time not fucking her on the spot, and he was having a really hard time of that already.

Becky crossed her arms over her chest with an outraged squawk followed by a squeak of pain. “My shirt!”

“My shirt.” He gently tried to pry her arms off her chest, but she wasn’t letting him. He almost pouted over the fact that she’d covered her entirely edible breasts. Damn, he wanted a taste so badly his mouth watered. He realized they’d fit perfectly in his mouth and had to hold back a groan. His dick was beginning to press insistently against his black pants, the thin material doing nothing to hide it.

“Huh?”

He stared at her, scrambling to remember what they were talking about. Oh yeah. The shirt. “I paid for it.”

“What?”

He looked up from her breasts and frowned absently. “I picked out this outfit and paid for it, therefore it’s my shirt and I can rip it any time I want.” With a gentle hand Simon began cleaning the blood from her stomach, paying special attention to where Livia’s claws had dug in.

“I am so killing Emma, vows of eternal friendship or not.” Becky fumed, struggling briefly when Simon tried to move her arms out of his way again.

“I just want to see if she scratched you there.”

From the way she glared at him he was pretty sure she wasn’t buying his act. “Trust me, I didn’t get scratched there.”

“What about here?” He rubbed his fingertips gently over the top slope of her left breast.

Becky slapped his hand away. “Bad kitty!” When he reached for her again, she smacked him upside the head.

Simon grinned at her, loving her fire. “I can’t help it. It’s been so long since I’ve had a beautiful, half-naked woman on my couch.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s such a rare occurrence.” She rolled her eyes and scooted back from him with a groan. “This particular half-naked woman is off limits, buster.”

Simon’s frown was ferocious. “You did it again.”

“Did what again?” Becky inched a little further away from him on the chaise, but unless she wanted to do a back-flip over the armrest she really wasn’t going anywhere.

“Pulled away. Backed off.” He sighed and dropped the washcloth into the warm, now pink water.

“Becky, I…”

“Your phone’s ringing.” Becky looked towards the kitchen with an amused grin.

“What? No it isn’t.”

The phone rang. Becky smirked. Simon looked at her strangely and got up to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Simon.”

“Oh, hi, Adrian.”

“How’s Becky?” He could hear the sounds of the masquerade in the distance. Adrian must have called on his cell after stepping outside the mansion.

“You heard, huh?”

“Rumor flies fast, especially where the Alpha and his new Curana are concerned. Is she okay?”

He sighed. “Yeah, she’s fine.”

“And she’s your mate?” Adrian’s grin could be clearly heard.

“Yes.” He stared, puzzled, at the woman lounging on his chaise. How the hell did she know the phone was going to ring?

“Mind if I keep Belinda…occupied? Seems she’s a little upset right now.”

“Belinda? Hell no, go for it. Just remember she’s on the prowl for a mate.”

Adrian laughed. “Don’t worry; I’m not planning on sleeping with her, just keeping her from rushing over to your place. Is Becky still bleeding? That must be driving you nuts.”

He looked back at Becky and frowned at her smug smile. “Yeah, she’s bleeding on my couch as we speak.”

“Have you cleaned the wounds and begun dressing them?”

“Gee, Doctor Dufus, what the hell do you think I was doing before you called?”

“Asshole.” Adrian’s amusement was once again loud and clear. “We still on for next Saturday?”

“Yeah, we are. Anything you need me to bring?”

“Nah, I got it all covered. I remembered to pick up everything we forgot when we did your floors.”

Simon and Max were helping Adrian install new hardwood floors in his living room. Remembering all of the screw ups that had happened when they’d installed his floors, Simon couldn’t help but grin. “All right.

See you then.”

“I’ll have donuts and coffee ready to go. And tell Becky I said get better, and welcome to the Pride.

Bye.”

Simon hung up and turned towards her, finger raised, mouth open.

“Phone’s ringing.”

Simon tilted his head, listening. The phone rang a second later. Becky snickered.

“How the hell do you do that? It’s freaking spooky.” He shook his head as he picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

Becky listened in as half the Pride called to check up on her, snickering silently over Simon’s frustration.

She’d always known when the phone was going to ring, even as a child. It had freaked people out back then, and still freaked most of them out now. Except for Emma, who didn’t really freak over much.

She was surprisingly touched; she didn’t think that many people cared about her. Or was it because Simon was the Pride’s Beta and had declared her his mate? It was possible all this “hail-fellow” stuff was pure political bullshit. Sniffing the Beta cat’s butt, as it were.

“That’s it, the answering machine is going on.” Simon ended yet another phone call with a gruff laugh.

“Phone’s—”

“Don’t say it!” Simon pointed a commanding finger at her, but his tone didn’t fool her. She could tell he was fighting a grin. He turned on the answering machine just as the phone rang. He left the machine to take the call as he stalked back towards her with a fresh bowl of water. “That must drive Emma nuts.”

He sat on the edge of the chaise once again, leaning one hand against the back of the sofa.

Becky bit her lip to keep from giggling at the look on his face. “Nah, she’s used to it. She just makes me answer it.” She hissed out a breath as he began cleaning her wounds once again. “Oh, ow.”

“I know it hurts, baby.” His hands were gentle; his expression was anything but. “I’ll hunt her down and kill her if you want.” She stared at him, seeing the dark rage in him again. It was the same rage that had scared her spitless as he hovered over Livia, his claws dug deep into the blonde’s stomach. “I’m very good at stalking my prey.”

“Yeah, well, guess what, Garfield, there are laws against stalking.”

He chuckled, some of the darkness receding from his face. He began gently cleaning the bite wound on her neck. She could feel his breath against her shoulder and she shivered. The feel of his hands on her skin was distracting despite the pain.

“I’ll cover you up in a nice warm blanket as soon as I’m done, baby,” he crooned in her ear. Which only made her shiver again, much to her disgust. A smug, self-satisfied smile crossed his face as he leaned towards the wound in her shoulder.

She gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes. Arrogant jerk. “Bite me, Simon.”

He struck with a swiftness she couldn’t evade. The sharp, stinging feel of his teeth piercing her skin made her gasp in pain.

But then pleasure hit, so intense she writhed, moaning in pure ecstasy. It raced from where his fangs were imbedded in her neck all the way down to her toes. She felt his big hand cover her pussy and stroke her gently through the fabric of her skirt and panties. It couldn’t have felt better if he’d touched bare skin. She felt as if her entire body was having an orgasm. Even her toenails felt good.

He groaned against her neck, his body arching above hers as he settled himself between her thighs. His hands moved to her breasts, plucking at her nipples as his hips came in contact with hers. He carefully ground his hard cock against her and she moaned again.

She whimpered as his teeth left her skin. She could feel the roughness of his tongue as he licked roughly at the mark he’d left behind. She ran her hands up and down his back and felt a strange rumbling under his skin.

Simon was purring. She ran her hands soothingly up and down his back, making him purr even louder.

She bit her lip to keep from giggling.

This has got to be the weirdest freaking night of my life.

Simon purred as Becky stroked his back. He just couldn’t help himself. The feel of her hands running up and down his body felt so right.

Finally she’s mine. He couldn’t believe how incredible it felt to mark Becky as his own. The feel of her moving under him as she came nearly triggered his own orgasm. He’d moved between her thighs without even thinking, his dick aching with the need to sink into her body. He wanted to taste every single inch of her, fuck her until they were both raw, and then do it all over again. The urge to complete the mating had been so strong that, if her blood hadn’t still scented the air, he’d have had her naked and mounted within minutes.

“Ow,” she whispered. He felt her flinch as she tried to move under him and damned himself for an impatient fool. She would heal faster as a result of the bite, most of the wounds closing in a matter of hours thanks to the enzyme he’d injected into her, but she was still in pain now. He carefully climbed off of her, any urge to purr gone as he scented her blood over their lust.

“Sorry, baby.” He stroked those wild curls away from her cheek. Her skin was so soft he wanted to nuzzle her. “I lost my head.” He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before he stood and went to his hall closet, pulling out a colorful afghan his mother had knitted. He went to his bedroom and pulled one of his T-shirts out of a drawer. It was large enough that it could act as a short nightgown for her. He had no intention of taking her back to her miniscule apartment over Wallflowers. Tonight, and every night from now on, his mate was sleeping in his bed.

He stepped back into the great room and handed her the T-shirt. “Put that on.” He ignored her raised brow at his order, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting. She pulled off the torn lace shirt and replaced it with the white tee. He covered her up gently with the afghan and perched on the edge of the sofa next to her.

Picking up one of her hands he gently caressed her fingers, his possessive gaze never leaving her face.

He took her hand to his mouth and gently nibbled at her fingers. “You’re mine now.”