A knock at her door a half hour later made her sigh and she got up and walked out, looking through the peep hole. Owen. No surprise. This was why she'd locked up.
"What do you want, Owen?" She asked through the door. She wasn't about to open it.
"To apologize," he said ruefully.
"Then apologize." She wasn't opening the door.
"I want to see you, Mila," he said.
"I don't trust you, Owen," she said.
"I'm sorry. I just lost my temper," he said.
"I get that, but that still doesn't mean I can trust you." Mila said. She didn't want him anymore, she realized. Besides the fact that he'd abused her, she just had no interest in him whatsoever. The attraction that had been there was gone. His fists had destroyed it.
"Please Mila," Owen begged.
"No, Owen. We're through. I'm breaking up with you," she said. "I can't trust you."
He cursed and slammed his fist into the door causing her to jump back. "We're not through, Mila!"
She took a peep out at him again, but he was gone. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Not that she would open the door. Just because she couldn't see him didn't mean he wasn't there. She checked the locks again, then headed back to her bedroom.
She crawled back in bed, the pain from her bruises reminding her why it was a bad idea to allow him in. She got comfortable and turned her attention back to her book.
Riley had introduced her to werewolf romance novels a month ago and she was hooked on them. She traded books with Riley frequently. It was her guilty pleasure. She wanted her own werewolf mate even though she knew it really wasn't a thing but it would be nice if it was.
Some man who would treat her well was all her current list of requirements contained. Owen definitely did not meet that demand, and she had the bruises to prove it. She wondered if her mystery man would but stopped that thought.
She finally put her book down knowing she needed to actually get some sleep tonight. She hadn't slept very well last night. She been hurting too badly and she's been too upset.
It didn't take long for her to fall asleep. She found herself walking through a forest, sliding along in that ethereal way you did in dreams. It was quiet and peaceful, and she happily walked along, taking in the beauty of the forest.
A wolf stepped out of the woods. He was beautiful, mostly black with a bit of white through his fur. She didn't feel in danger from him and he approached her slowly.
"Hi wolf," she said softly.
He licked her hand and she began to pet him, tingles reaching her fingers as they glided through his soft, thick coat. He was a beautiful animal. He let her pet him for a bit longer, then licked her hand and stepped back from her.
Her dream self didn't seem the least bit surprised when he suddenly shifted into her mystery man.
He stood there before her naked and she slowly looked over his perfect body. He was gorgeous and her gaze stopped on that part of him that she knew would give her pleasure and sucked in a small breath. He was very aroused, and she couldn't peel her eyes off of him.
She realized that she was naked as well, and he walked up to her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, his mouth exploring hers.
She found herself on the ground with him over her, his hands on her body, touching her, and then he was inside her, moving, and she could feel her orgasm approaching.
Mila suddenly woke with a start. She was alone and still dressed. She sighed. She felt disappointed. He wasn't there. She sighed again. She'd been reading way too many romance novels lately, and her mind was losing it. She was losing it.
She rolled over, wincing as her bruises came into contact with anything and groaned. She'd be lucky if she fell back asleep now. Her eyes darted to the time. It was three am. She flipped on her bedside lamp and began to read again, though her mind wandered back to the dream.
She'd never had such a vivid sex dream before. She wasn't even sure she'd ever had a sex dream at all. Obviously not memorable. But that one had felt almost real. Like she'd really been in the forest with him touching her, kissing her. Deep inside of her. She shivered, realizing she really was aroused from it. She wanted him.
She scoffed at herself. She couldn't have him. He probably had a girlfriend, some woman who was equally as beautiful as him that he was probably having sex with right now. She felt a surge of jealousy, and frowned at herself. She had no right to feel jealous. He wasn't hers. She'd laid eyes on him for ten minutes, during which she'd made a complete fool out of herself, and then she'd been fixated on him the entire day, and had a sex dream about him.
She'd lost her ever-loving mind. She picked up her book, and forced her attention back to it. She wasn't going to think about him, or dream about him anymore