Page 6

His smile softened as he huffed out a laugh. “Sorry.”

“Are you kidding? I feel pampered.” I relaxed into the fluffy throw pillows. As the adrenaline faded, a bone-deep exhaustion tugged at me. I pulled off the beanie.

“You have red hair.”

“Observant,” I teased. The laughter died on my lips at the set of his jaw.

He dragged his gaze across my body and paused at the obvious tent in my jeans. A flush crept down my neck as I let him stare. My dick was painfully hard, but I tried to ignore it.

Long moments later, he tore his attention away. “I’ll grab the ice.”

I hummed and debated pulling up my hood and cinching the drawstrings.

When he crossed the open space and disappeared behind the stairs, I finally took a full breath. Between the pain and arousal, my body was overstimulated.

Zane returned sans hoodie, but he’d kept the horns. His muscles were insane. The black T-shirt clung to each curve and ridge like a second skin.

He moved around the kitchen collecting items, then carried an armful over to me. Zane wore an expression of pure concentration as he set everything on the coffee table. Without saying a word, he passed me the pills and water, then arranged the ice packs around my foot. Zane’s considerateness made me feel warm in my chest.

“Are you hungry?”

My stomach growled in response. “A little,” I admitted sheepishly.

Zane grinned. “I’m starving. Rest while I fix something. Give the meds and ice time to do their thing.” He stood and paused, meeting my eyes. “It’s fine if you doze off.”

There was an odd resonance to his words that reverberated in my chest, and I got a fresh dose of the orange and cinnamon scent as I lay back on his pillow. My eyes drifted closed to the sounds of Zane puttering around his kitchen. It wouldn’t hurt to rest for a few minutes.

The next thing I knew, I was sprawled over a giant bed in an oddly familiar room wearing only my boxers.

Zane considered me from an armchair across the room, like a king surveying his subjects from a throne.

FOUR

I stretched my arms overhead and fanned my toes as I yawned. Where was I? I knew the room but couldn’t place it. It was cozy and sensual. Dark furniture, a large bed, and flames dancing on the wall.

“You’re awake.”

I sucked in a breath at Zane’s low voice. He sat in an oversized armchair by the fireplace.

“Did I fall asleep on the couch? Did you undress me?” I reflexively covered myself over my boxers and groaned when I realized which pair they were. If this was a dream, couldn’t my brain have put me in something sexy instead of the Bigfoot-print boxers I’d worn for Halloween?

Zane relaxed deeper into the seat and spread his legs wider. “This is a dream, Marcus.”

“A dream?”

“Yes. You’re only limited by your imagination. You can do anything you want.” Dream Zane adjusted himself. “We can do anything you want.”

Oh. Oh. That’s why Zane looked familiar. He reminded me of Damien from the game, and this was like a 4D version of Damien’s quarters in Kiss of the Abyss. I’d spent a lot of game time wooing that character in this exact space. With him sitting in that exact chair.

Okay, so maybe I had a bigger crush on a fictional character than I’d admitted to myself. Between Zane carrying me and thinking about the part of the game I’d hoped to get to tonight, of course I’d blended the two together in a dream.

So have some fun. No one will know.

“Anything I want?”

His lips curled into a sinful smile. “Anything.” It wasn’t fair for one guy to have that much raw sex appeal.

Emboldened by the freedom of my imagination, I climbed off the bed and stalked toward him. My ankle didn’t hurt at all in the dream.