Dream Lover
A steamy Greek gods fantasy romance
Excerpt from Dream Lover
Set-up: It’s not long after Hunter’s full-moon night where things got a little crazy
Hunter rolled onto her back with a groan when her phone dinged the announcement of a new text message. She was awake, but she wasn’t ready to get going. She was a night owl by trade. Anything related to mornings was a struggle for her, and it was the weekend.
Sunlight brightened her bedroom to the point where the curtains were glowing. Grabbing the empty pillow beside her, she flung it over her face—and then had to adjust it so she could breathe. She really needed to look into sun-blocking shades.
“Ugh.”
Who was texting her at this hour, anyway?
She wriggled on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, but her toes were out from under the covers. She needed her toes covered in order to sleep. Flouncing again, she tried to find the missing sheet, but that just succeeded in waking her up more.
Her growl was muffled by the extra pillow.
Her clients didn’t usually reach out on the weekend, although she did have a brunch meeting today. But that was brunch, and this was definitely breakfast time. Was he canceling?
If he was canceling, then she could sleep in. She should check.
More likely, though, it was one of her sisters. They weren’t early birds any more than she was, but with everyone based all over the world, it was easy to get confused on time zones.
Giving up, she blindly reached for her phone on the nightstand.
One quick peek, and she was awake. “Emily!”
She missed her friend and former client. She rubbed her eyes and read the message, hoping that Emily wanted to get together or talk or something. They had fun together, but their escapade the other night had put a damper on their relationship.
The “or something” in the text made Hunter sit straight up in bed.
Tony wants your number. Should I give it to him?
Tony. Tony Oneiros. The big, muscled, hunky, bad-tempered Dream Weaver—who also happened to be a great kisser.
“He what?” Hunter squeaked.
Her heartbeat leapt from its resting rate into the danger zone in one second flat. He wanted her number? After what she’d done?
Or after what they’d done?
That, she could understand. It had been a great kiss, a steamy, knee-weakening make-out session. He’d better want her number after that.
But his brothers hadn’t fared as well when they’d challenged her, had they? Poor little Dream Weavers stuck with no powers outside the dream realm. That night had been a whirlwind, a glorious jumble of activity and messiness and emotion.
“Ohh,” she said in a huff when she caught on, “he’s trying to trick me!”
She kicked at the sheet that now seemed to be everywhere, and it tangled around her legs. She had to fight to extricate herself before she could launch herself out of bed and begin pacing around her bedroom. She read the text again.
Nope, she hadn’t misread it. Tony Oneiros wanted to get in touch.
Her stomach tightened. He’d been good at the touching part, too. His big hands spanning her waist… His palms sliding down to cover her butt… She shook her head.
“Oh, Hunter, you’ve gone and done it this time.”
She scraped her hand through her hair and flipped it to the side.
Her full moon had been one for the record books. Her sisters couldn’t believe that she’d taken on four Dream Weavers by herself and lived to tell the tale. Half of them thought she was a hero, while the other half thought she was nuts—which was saying something.
Maybe Emily could give her some background on what this was all about. Hunter lifted her phone to text… or call… but she couldn’t.
“Dang it.” She was trying to stay on the right side of Zane Oneiros, Emily’s boyfriend. He’d been the one Dream Weaver who hadn’t fallen under her influence.
And he was the brother of the sexy, yummy one who had.
She chewed on her lip.
That was the beauty of her moon powers. Her subject had to have some interest in order to respond to her suggestions. She knew that. It was why Zane had been all growly and incensed. He’d been immune to everything she’d said, but his brother, the delectable Tony, hadn’t.
Which raised the question, could the text be real?
Her belly squeezed, and she stopped pacing right in front of the glowing curtains. Warmth filled her from the inside out, and her thoughts went all ooey and gooey until she got hold of herself.
“Get real.” They’d had a moment—a scorching-hot moment—but that didn’t mean she could forget what he was. An Oneiros wouldn’t cross that line. An Oneiros and a Menae? Never.
She made herself march to the bathroom to throw some cold water on her face.
It was definitely a trap, but why?
A thought occurred to her, one that made her ooey-gooey center congeal into a rock-hard chunk of ice. She knew the Oneiroi vanquished sleep raiders in the dream realm. They didn’t intend to do that to her here, in the waking world, did they?
Cold water dripped off her chin. They wouldn’t. The Menae ruled under the moon; everyone knew that. They wouldn’t risk upsetting the upper echelon. There were still Greek gods out there who were way more powerful than them, and everyone had gotten used to nighttime being the way it was. They liked having the moon there to guide their way.
No, if the Oneiroi hurt her, they’d risk the extinction of their own kind.
And Tony hadn’t acted like he’d wanted to hurt her. Even when he’d plucked her off her bike, he hadn’t been rough. Just strong.
So strong.
“Oh, hell.” Hunter grabbed a towel and scrubbed the water droplets off her face.
This was all her fault. What good had she thought would come from making friends with the girlfriend of an Oneiros? She’d put this all into motion by giving Emily her business card in the first place. The laced-up project manager had just been so frustrated and unfulfilled when they first met. So ready to break out of her structured little world.
She’d been trying to help. Honestly.
Hunter braced her hands on either side of the sink. She’d tried to do a good deed, and she’d succeeded. Emily and Zane were together now, but in the process, she’d outed herself to the enemy. They knew she was here now, and they didn’t like it—even though they knew the rules. They were supposed to stick to the dream realm, but they’d come at her in the waking world under a full moon. She’d had every right to “wipe the floor with them,” as her sister Strawberry had put it.
But she’d hurt their pride.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Was that what the request for her number was about? Was the blasted Dream Weaver trying to show how tough and brave he was? To get her going? To yank on her chain?
Her eyes narrowed. Of course he was.
She glared at the phone where it sat on the vanity. And she’d fallen for it. She’d gotten up early on a Sunday morning—no, she’d leapt out of bed.
He’d made her pace.
A grumble passed her lips. Oh, he wanted to play with her head? She was a master at that game.
Snatching up her phone, she began typing. Just as quickly, she backspaced. She needed to word this correctly. She needed to send Tony Oneiros’ cute butt pacing. Lifting her phone, she started again. Yes, she typed. Give it to him.
He wouldn’t be expecting that. She’d called his bluff.
See how he’d deal with that.
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