Accidental Surrogate

Ella

Sinclair is watching me struggle through the idea that he somehow shared my dream, that he knows everything I said – secrets I would never admit if I’d known he wasn’t just some fantasy my sleeping brain cooked up. I just admitted how deeply I’m attracted to him, how much he turns me on. I can’t believe how shamelessly I rubbed myself all over him – I might as well have been a dog in heat, practically begging him to make love to me.

I did beg, I realize belatedly, And he left. He walked away even though I was his for the taking. He must have thought my behavior was pathetic. He’s wanted to kiss me in the past, he even said he wanted me in the dream, but that was before I debased myself that way. I suppose that sort of thing isn’t befitting of a Luna at all.

Suddenly Mike’s voice sounds in my head, and I remember the way he belittled me for liking sex. You’re a stunner, Ella, but you’re too eager. Men don’t want a girl whose legs fall open at the first opportunity – show a little class. He never realized it was the physical intimacy I liked, never connected the dots that sex with him was more about conception and closeness than pleasure. It would be different with Sinclair, I can tell that much already. I find more pleasure with him in the foreplay than I ever found with Mike in ten years of being together. He’s awakened parts of my body I didn’t even know existed – and now he knows it.

Sinclair is still stroking and petting me, and I can’t take it. I’ve got to put some distance between us or I’ll lose it. I wrench myself out of his arms, and he lets me go – again, the little voice in my head moans. I climb out of the bed and though my cheeks are already flooded with heat, I can feel myself flushing deeper still. “I… you… that was real?” I stutter, trying to comprehend the impossible.

“No, it was a dream.” Sinclair explains. “But we shared it. Bonded mates often visit each other in their dreams.”

“But we aren’t mates, I’m not even a shifter.” I protest. “How did this happen?”

“As you said, it must be another gift from the baby.” Sinclair replies easily.

“So you knew, all along, that it was real?” I gape, my embarrassment and shame quickly giving way to outrage. “And that I had no idea?”

“Yes.” He confirms gravely. “I knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” I burst out, feeling like I might cry. “You had to know I wouldn’t have said or done those things if I’d known! I was vulnerable and you took advantage!”

his muscles racked with tension. His hands are closed into white-knuckled fists and his voice is low and husky. “Ella, I might be a shifter, but there are limits to

dream, when I didn’t even know I was doing it?” I question, confusion swirling around me in a dense fog. “And

have over me, Ella. I might keep some things from you, but I don’t tell falsehoods. I don’t say things I don’t mean,

around myself, unsure what to make of this new information. I want to believe him, as terrifying as that

and I can tell his patience is hanging by a thread. “Because you thought it

brow. That isn’t what I expected, and though it should make me feel better to know he took me seriously when I told him I wasn’t interested in being with him, part of me is deeply disappointed. I know I’m being contrary and hormonal, but I can’t help it. I need more time to process this, and until I have it I’m not going to be making

me, pinning me in place. “Why did you think I

thought maybe I was being too eager. I know men

handsome face. “Any man who wants a lover without passion is an idiot. Yours is electrifying, and knowing I can set you alight makes me feel more powerful than anything else. Your ‘eagerness’ as you call it, is a gift, and I’d like to hunt

Still, I can’t help thinking that this is very dangerous territory. It’s getting harder and harder to resist my attraction to him, and it’s especially difficult

voice in my head demands. You like him, he likes

help but remember the second half of his statement – he doesn’t waste his

world, and it deserves two

sure you’d end up as exes? She inquires. You’re predicting the end before you’ve even had a chance to

best Sinclair and I can hope for is a temporary fling. I bite back. Maybe we could have some fun together, but at the end of the day he’s going to end up with a she-wolf who can rule by his side. I’m playing a dangerous game here pretending to be something I’m not, and it’s safer for everyone involved if I fade

and he taps his finger lightly against my

shakey breath. “If we stay on this path, we’re headed

get involved, but I don’t have unlimited self control. If you invite me into your dreams in the future, if you offer yourself up to me that

was doing any of that.” I say, “not for real. I don’t