Scott leaned down to kiss the soft pink lips that beckoned to him, even as her gentle hand rose up weakly then clutched at his shirt. She exerted a bit of strength and accidentally tore off a few buttons.

Shirt ripped open; his bare chest peaked through. Ashton’s eyes roved over the inviting spot for a moment then they widened gently. Scott was a mass of bruises underneath. Large swathes of angry yellows and purples greeted her sight.

Ashton reached over and gently touched his wounded flesh. “Did this…”

“No. This isn’t because I went to get you,” said Scott. Sure, he could have lied to her, manipulated her emotions in the way that guys did on occasion. He did not want to be that kind of person, though.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. Obviously relieved, she could not help but smile. “Good. That’s good.”

Her fingers continued to lightly trace the curvature of his chest in a manner that could only be described as fascination. Those fingers began to tremble not long after, however. It was obvious to both of them that she was still exhausted due to her injuries.

Curious, she could not help but gently explore his body with her trembling fingers. He was different than before, larger than life. She was no longer in heat, but that familiar stirring arose within her as she scented the air. Stronger than before, everything was stronger than before. The scent of responsibility had increased as well. A slight hint of drool appeared at the corner of her lips, though she tried to draw it back in quickly with a sideways swipe of the tip of her tongue.

“How were you hurt?” she asked him finally. There were many other questions, but she was too tired to ask them.

“I did something stupid in the dream, and then something stupider here on Earth,” he said in a soft warm voice.

She tilted her head gently to the side and her lips parted, but before they could continue the conversation her phone rang. She ignored it, though her expression cooled immensely.

“Not going to get that?” he asked her lightly.

“No. I really don’t want to talk to them,” she said without a trace of humor in her voice.

Her thoughts shifted and he received a mental image of whom she had assigned to that ring tone. Scott did not allow his expression to shift in accordance with his own thoughts, but he understood why she would not wish to answer.

However, before they could turn the conversation back to other things the doorbell rang. The ringing was followed up by an insistent banging at the door.

“No. Not now,” she muttered to herself. Ashton closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

Scott looked at the pained expression she wore then stood up straight. “You get some rest. I’ll handle it.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked him, her tone one of slight scandal.

He grinned at her but said nothing. Scott left her room and casually finished ripped the buttons off his shirt while he walked downstairs. Before he answered the door, he wildly ruffled his hair then offered the wooden entrance barrier a feral grin.

His expression schooled into a calm mask once more, he unlocked and opened the door. On the other side stood an irate douchebag, his fist perched in mid-knock.

“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Bradly, his eyes narrow and his nostrils flared outward.

Scott’s eyebrow rose upward, and he acquired a smug smile. “I wonder?”

Bradly eyed him for a moment, the effects of Scott’s aura had obviously worn off long ago as he once again acted like he was entitled to something. He tried to barge into the room and Scott casually shoved him back out the door with one hand.

The douche was knocked on his ass with enough force that he bounced twice and nearly rolled over. He scrambled back to his feet with fire in his eyes. “Get the fuck out of the way! I’m here to see my fiancé!”

“Your ex-fiancé is under new management. Now run along little fellow,” said Scott with a dismissive hand gesture. Shoo fly. Shoo.

Bradly’s eyelid spasmed slightly and he shook his head. “Hell no. She wouldn’t hook up with a fat ass.”

Scott opened the torn shirt to reveal his massive gains and nearly rock-hard abs. There was still a bit of divergence from Earth and the dream, but he was close to full parity after his recent misadventures. “Fat ass? Who’s a fat ass?”

The extensive bruises and lacerations crisscrossing Scott’s body were not lost on him. In Bradly’s eyes it looked like Scott had been through a warzone. Instead of inspiring respect, it emboldened the man. He could take this guy!

“Get the fuck outta my way!” snarled Bradly. He rushed at Scott intent on knocking his teeth out, but to his surprise the bastard casually smacked him across the face.

Bradly flew sideways, a bright red mark staining his surprised flesh. He flopped over in mid-air and landed on his back with his mouth gaped open like a fish. His brain could not even process what had just happened!

Scott eyed him casually, much like a gardener might eye a wide that might soon be plucked. He could have used his aura to send the man fleeing into the night but given what has been happening in the world it would have possibly led him to rush right into the jaws of a monster. He didn’t like the guy but being a cheating shit bird who acted like a spoiled brat wasn’t a reason to wish him dead. Athlete’s foot? Sure. A painful rash on his balls? Why not? Death was a bit too final a sentence for a guy who was mostly just a jerk.

“Go home. You’re not welcome here,” said Scott.

“This is my home!” exclaimed Bradly.

“It’s mine now,” said Scott blithely. He tasted a bit of bile on his tongue. His words were something of a technical lie, though the spirit of the thing was sound.

Bradly growled then balled his fists up and beat them against the ground. “Asshole!” he snarled. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Someone who is welcome here,” replied Scott. His eyes practically sparkled as he acquired a lecherous expression. “So welcome…”

Bradly tried to stand up but realized that even sitting up too fast made him dizzy. It took him a moment to steady himself, all the while that red eyed former fatty looked down on him.

Things were dragging on for too long. The neighbors would notice something soon. Though he loathed to do it, Scott unleashed a little of his aura. Bradly immediately began to breathe heavier. His pupils widened and he began to babble a little.

He dialed it back a little until the fear was more of a suggestion of terrors to come instead of guaranteed extinction. Bradly rolled over and crawled forward a little. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to head back to his buddy’s house and crash for the night.

Scott watched the worm inch its way across the lawn for a while then tilted his head to the side and snorted when Bradly finally rose to his knees. Drunkenly, he regained his feet and staggered off toward the sidewalk. He clutched the side of his head, cradled his face where he had been slapped, and left without looking back. Of course, his mental landscape was a different story. He fully intended to come back, and soon.

He waited until Bradly was out of sight then closed and locked the door. They’d already had one unwanted visitor that night. There was no need to allow for another.