My Greek Teacher Is An Alpha (Book 1)

8: Mind Invasions

**This story contains scenes that may not be suitable for some readers. If that is the case, stop reading!**

By the way, I skipped a day, so yep, this chapter is THURSDAY! Btw...

(I actually included the original warning. I'm awesome.) This chapter is SHORT because it took me SO LONG to write. Not even funny, I've just been typing for like three hours and this is all that came out. It's good though. I think. - Emma

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I bolted upright only to be met with the horror of Jeff's contorted and pained expression.

"What's wrong, Aimee?"

>If only it were a nightmare. But it wasn't a nightmare at all. It turned out to be a dream. I snuggled into his chest and let the pent up tears escape. There was no stopping them now - they would fall until there was nothing left. >Why did I have to wake up?

"Aims, It's going to be okay," he said. With his hand around my wrist, he guided my hand toward his forehead. When my skin made contact with his, the entire nightmare/dream played over in my head.

I gasped.

He just looked at me for a few moments.

"Jeff?"

"Have you ever had that dream before?"

"No."

He glimpsed down at his clenched hands. I noticed his knuckles were whiter than snow, >>Does she really think I'd be like that? I'm not that... I'm not like that. That explains a lot.

"Aimee, I," Jeff breathed, "I don't even know what to say to you."

"Don't. It wasn't you, Jeff. I know that much. It was just a dream," I put my arm around him, "It was a silly dream. We shouldn't still be worrying about it." My finger pad of my index finger traced over his left hand absently, "Besides, you need to go grade the rest of those tests, right?"

"I don't want to finish them. I want to relax," he picked up a book off his table and flipped open to a seemingly random page. His glasses were back on his face.

I stretched across the couch; my eyes closed when my head touched his chest. But I felt his hand on my forehead and he was out like a light. I was sucked into his dream world.

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αααααJEFF'S POVααααα

>>Catcher in the Rye, I thought as I closed the book, >>never ceases to amaze me.

I glanced down at Aimee who was sleeping peacefully on my chest. The tingles that radiated from her touch electrocuted me. I wanted to explode - to scream at the top of my lungs. But, of course, I didn't want to wake Sleeping Beauty.

Aimee bolted upright, "Did I miss the test?!" she shouted.

>>Wow. That was abrupt. "No... there is no test."

"Oh. So I'm awake?"

"Yeah."

"If I'm awake," her eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't have fallen asleep on you. Because when I'm awake, I don't like you."

"But when you're asleep, you do?" I raised my eyebrow at this. >Was that some sort of sexual reference or am I just reading too far between the lines?

"When I'm asleep, like I am now," she put her face dangerously close to mine, "I wouldn't be afraid to," she inched closer, her mouth a few mere centimeters from mine, "kiss you." Her lips kissed mine, very feather-like at first. But it changed quickly into something much deeper. Her legs straddled mine as she tried to move closer to me. I couldn't take her teasing anymore.

I put my hands on her waist and drew her closer. The movement of her lips on mine made the wolf in me struggle to be free. It was a long and passionate kiss which I didn't imagine getting better. She playfully bit on my bottom lip, which caused me to open my mouth. Aimee's tongue and mine rolled around together, like it were something out of a crappy romantic movie. Suddenly, I broke off the kiss with her, then my hands moved to cradle her head, I was kissing her neck.

And it kept going. I was going to kill myself because I was so damn hard from just kissing her. There was no way it was real.

Her hand lightly passed over my lap, causing me to moan with discomfort; she smiled at the simple fact that I was right where she wanted me to be.

"Come on, Jeffrey," Aimee purred in my ear. "It's going to happen... just let it happen..."

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I kept my eyes closed after the dream ended because Jeff was awake again. Judging by his heartbeat, that dream was as real for him as mine was to me. He groaned as he shifted slightly on the couch. I opened my eyes, noticing that he was looking at me.

"Hi."

"Hey," he smiled tightly, "How was your nap?"

"Fine. How about you?"

"Good," he looked anywhere but directly at my face, "Did you want some pasta?"

"Pasta? That's kind of random."

"No, it's food. Is food random?"

"Sort of?"

"Oh. Okay, well stop avoiding the question. Do you want pasta?"

"Why?"

"I'll make you some."

I raised my eyebrow at him, "Are you offering to make me dinner?"

"No," he answered too quickly. His hand went to the back of his neck automatically and he scratched it.

"You know, if you keep scratching your neck like that, I'll think you have fleas," I stood up, "Pasta would be great."

"Okay!" he jumped to his feet with his book in hand. >>That was a close one.

"And Jeff?"

"Yeah?" he stopped in his tracks.

"Next time you're dreaming, keep your hand away from my forehead," I said with a wink.

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