Chapter 9 Greer
Chapter nine
Greer
“Do you need a minute, Princess, or can we get started?”
My eyes pop open, heart thumping in my chest. It takes me a hot second to realize that A, Kai the bartender is in my room and B, my hand is down my pants. I yank it free and let out what sounds like a mix of a scream, a growl, and a surprised yelp.
I scramble to my knees, one hand over my chest and the other pointing at him. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”
The corner of Kai’s mouth lifts into a half smile. His hands are in the pockets of the gray jeans he’s wearing. He’s got on a deep-blue winter coat, and the black scarf around his neck is untied. The man looks like he walked off a men’s winter fashion runway.
“Come on; we have somewhere we need to be.”
My chest continues to heave, and I stare at him as if he’s gone mad. “What are you talking about?”
He takes a step forward. “I’ll explain everything, but first, we need to get going. We have a limited amount of time before the sun rises and much to see.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere with you at”—I look at the electric clock on the bedside table—“one in the morning.”
“This is important, Greer. Please, come with me.” He holds out his hand, and I blink down at it, trying to clear my mind and figure out what’s going on since he’s not giving me direct answers.
I don’t understand how he got into my room. I think I locked it when I came in. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was—hands, mouths, my fingers on my…
“Oh my god,” I whisper, looking up at Kai.
My cheeks turn a bright pink—I think my ears do as well.
He winks at me like he did before I ran back to my room, confirming he saw me watching him get railed like some kind of pervy Peeping Tom.
And now he’s in my room, and he caught me asleep with my hand down my pants? !
“Oh my god,” I say again, this time louder.
“Not God.” He smirks, taking a small step closer to me. “Nephilim.”
“What-a-lim?”
He chuckles. “A Nephilim. Haven’t heard of us, I’m guessing? It’s okay; most people haven’t.”
I run a hand over my face. “Am I dreaming?”
“I don’t know, are you?”
I stare into his twinkling brown eyes, ones that even now I want to swim in. They’re magnetic, pulling me in and making me feel that insatiable hunger again. I blink before they can completely drag me under and look down at my body.
I run my hands over my pajamas. The material is soft, and I can feel the dips and valleys of my curves beneath my fingers. I feel real.
When I look back up at Kai, he’s watching me carefully. My gaze zeros in on the lips that nearly kissed mine earlier. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m closing the distance between us to see if he’s real.
Kai doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to stop me. The moment our lips touch, I know it’s a dream. He rejected me before. I bet if this was real, he’d push me away. He also wouldn’t be saying he’s Nephilim—whatever the hell that is.
Not to mention, he wouldn’t be here. He’d be with Remi and Sam asleep after the pleasure they wrung from his body. He wouldn’t be here, in my room of all places, unless he came to confront me about watching. But then, he would have knocked. Right?
A small whimper akin to the one I heard from him earlier escapes from his throat, rocketing the hunger in my gut from a snowball to an avalanche. It wipes all further thoughts from my mind, and I fist the lapels of his coat, pulling him into me.
I tease the seam of his lips with my tongue, wondering if Dream Kai tastes as good as Real Kai looks. But before I can, he pulls back slightly. I expect him to step away, but he does the last thing I expect: He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“No time for that, Princess,” he mutters, the sound of the stupid nickname not sounding so stupid right now. “I told you; we have much to see.”
I raise my brow then shake my head. “But this is my dream—don’t I get to decide what we do?” I bite my lower lip seductively. His gaze watches the movement before he meets my eyes again with a playful smile.
“No. I’m the one in control for tonight.”
The way he says it has such finality it makes my toes curl. Gone is the playful guy I met at the bar, the pliant man I saw in that office doing what was asked of him. In his place is someone who commands attention.
I debate my options. Normally, I like to remain in control, but this is a dream, right? Maybe my mind made him up so I can let go or my subconscious just knows I need a hot sex dream since apparently the only action I can get is either watching an intimate moment between lovers or dreaming it up.
I drop the lapels of his jacket and step backward toward the bed, giving him my best bedroom eyes along with a crook of my finger, silently telling him to “come hither.” With the way his breath shortens, I expect him to follow.
My fingers skim the soft white comforter, and I bend my knees to sit down.
My heart stops beating, and my stomach drops in a violent motion, the same sensation you get when you’re on one of those giant drop theme park rides.
I scream as I fall, only stopping when my butt hits something wet and cold.
My eyes are screwed shut, and when I open them, I’m no longer on a white bed but on a mound of fluffy white snow.
Winter air that smells like wet concrete, fire, and pine whips across my cheeks, and I exhale with shaky breath.
“What the hell?”
A hand extends into my vision, and I stare at it, knowing it’s Kai’s. Which means he’s still here with me in my dream or coma or whatever the hell this is.
Is it sad I already know what his hands look like? He should be a hand model instead of a bartender. They’re perfectly sized for his tall height and lithe yet muscular build. They have the kind of veins I want to trace with my tongue and watch as they grip my hips and pound into me.
“Greer, take my hand.”
My gaze travels back to his handsome face.
The sun is setting behind him, the sky a painting of gray, bright orange, and hot pink.
The space around him glows, as if his body has been outlined by a baby-blue halo.
I don’t know what kind of tricks my brain is playing on me, but when I blink, it’s gone.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Take my hand, and look around,” he responds.
I don’t know why, but I do what he asks.
He pulls me from the snowbank to stand on my feet—I still have the slippers from the inn on.
He observes me as I release his hand and run it over my ass.
I’m not injured, and while the fabric of my clothes and the slippers on my feet feel slightly damp from the snow, I’m not cold at all.
I’d say it’s magic, but it’s obviously just my dream.
I’ve always had vivid ones, ever since I was young.
“Do you recognize where we are?” he asks.
I turn to where he’s looking now and find a house with white siding and a blue door adorned with a simple pine wreath.
I squint, familiarity washing over me. When I step closer and see the chipping paint on the door, it clicks.
This is where I grew up—my parents’ house, outside of Denver, where they still live.
What’s odd is that I replaced that chipping door many years ago with one of my first paychecks.
My parents had protested, saying their door was fine, that it had character, but I wanted their house to look as good as Avery’s parents’ house next door, as all their neighbors.
I know we parted on bad terms, but do they really hate me so much that they put the old one back on? And how would they even get it?
I step toward the door to investigate further, snow crunching under my feet. Before I can get far, the sound of a dog barking and kids laughing sends another zip of recognition up my spine. My mouth drops open as a golden retriever flashes by.
“Cooper?” I gape, not quite believing I’m dreaming up my childhood dog right now. All the talk of the past with Avery earlier must be fucking with my head.
Cooper’s furry body runs past again, bounding onto the porch near the door.
He turns, looking straight at me as he plops down.
His face is covered in the white hair around his nose and eyes that I remember as a kid.
He’s been gone for a long time, but here he is, sitting and wagging his tail.
He looks so real I want to reach out and pet him.
“Cooper?” I call, louder this time.
His ears perk up, and he barks. A bubble of laughter erupts from my chest, and the bridge of my nose stings.
“Come here, boy!”
He takes off from the porch and runs toward me and Kai. Kai’s quiet as my dog bounds at us in excitement, his older body spryer than I remember it being.
I kneel to greet him, but he doesn’t slow down.
I let out a strangled yelp, thinking he’s going to crash into us, but the impact doesn’t come.
He runs right through me as if I’m not even there.
I don’t feel anything except a slight chill and pressure, the same type of sensation of wearing wet clothes but also not.
“What the hell?!” I gasp.
“You’re not really here, Greer,” Kai says.
I can’t compute what he’s saying, so I turn to see where Cooper is going. I’m about to ask Kai a question, but it dies on my lips as Cooper barks, and the giggles I heard before start again. My shoulders lock in place, and my spine snaps up as if I’ve been frozen.
“Is that…?” I ask, turning to find two young girls playing with my dog. Their bulky winter clothes look straight out of an early 2000s time capsule.