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It rained of course. What else could you expect in Florida in April? Hell, at least it had helped get rid of the unfulfilled hard-on he’d been sporting since his dream of Sarah had been interrupted. He didn’t even have the heart to be pissed about the aborted dream; seeing her there had been more than worth it. His Puma was actually growly again, something he hadn’t thought he’d miss until it was gone. He got to the restaurant before the worst of the rain hit, so he wasn’t too soaked. Still, the damp clothing and the cold air-conditioning was sending shivers down his spine and pulling up goose bumps on his arms.


He thought he was the first one there until he spied Emma shopping. The Rainforest Café was set up so that one entered the restaurant through the gift shop attached to it. He smiled as he caught Max’s wince, but Emma’s laughter pulled her mate to her like a magnet to iron.


He watched them, so happy together, and wondered if he and Sarah would ever be that happy. The dream this afternoon had disturbed him on more than one level. Sarah’s defiance had startled him, turned him on and hurt him, all at the same time. Her pain had struck him deep, made him question his decisions like never before, even more than seeing her with Jim had. The only thing he could come up with was that his Puma was bound and determined to have him finally claim her as his own.


Even in dreams she’d never argued with him like that before. He’d been telling dream-Sarah the truth. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, even there. He hadn’t slept with Chloe. He hadn’t been with a real woman in a long time. Hell, even his dreams were faithful to her! How could she think for even a second that he would betray their bond that way? The pain in her eyes had been too much for him to bear, and when she’d told him he didn’t have her any longer, he’d nearly broken down and ended his torment, marking her for all to see as his, if only in his own mind.


He had to stop this. He had to remember that they were only dreams, or that pain he’d seen in her would drive him mad.


Why had his dream of her accused him of infidelity? That really bothered him. Was he secretly attracted to Chloe? He tried to picture kissing her and shuddered in revulsion.


Nope. That isn’t it. The thought of touching any female flesh but Sarah’s was revolting. So why did Dream Sarah accuse me of that? What was his subconscious trying to tell him? Could his closeness with Chloe be the root of his problems with Sarah? But why?


He shook his head and wondered what Sarah’s dreams were like. How did he act in them? Did he bring her flowers and candy? Did he make sweet, gentle love to her? Did they argue constantly? One thing was for sure. He very much doubted he spanked her until she came.


He stopped, stunned by a single, horrifying thought. What if she doesn’t dream of me at all?


He heard Sarah’s tinkling laughter and turned towards the entrance of the restaurant, compelled to catch a glimpse of her. She was shaking water out of her hair, giggling up at the walking dead man beside her. She was soaked through, her short red sundress clinging to her curves in a way guaranteed to raise the blood pressure of any male who wasn’t gay, showing off legs Gabe had felt wrapped around his waist more than once. Gabe stepped forward, instinctively looking for a way to shield his mate from other men’s eyes.


Before he could reach her Jim led her right over to the towels and began gently drying her off. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, I’ll just buy it for you.”


“Thank you, Jim.” She gazed up at the soon-to-be corpse with affection. Affection that rightfully belonged to him. When Jim’s towel-covered hands drifted dangerously close to her cleavage Gabe snarled, unable to hold himself back a second longer.


That’s it. Dickhead’s gonna find out what that towel tastes like.


The towel lifted just enough to reveal the side of Sarah’s neck, halting Gabe in his tracks. His entire being was focused on the mark on her neck.


The mark he’d put there not two hours before.


He stared at it, wondering what the fuck was going on. How the hell was that possible? He hadn’t actually bitten her! It had been a fucking dream, for God’s sake!


She caught him staring at her. Her expression turned wary, and her hand moved up to cover the mark.


He caught her gaze with his own, trapping her, mentally demanding answers she couldn’t possibly give him.

When her eyes lowered submissively, he nearly cursed out loud. His cock twitched, his erection growing to painful proportions behind his jeans despite their cold dampness.


She’d somehow been there in his dreams, in his arms, writhing on his cock, every damn night for months. And she’d done everything he’d asked of her.


She blushed, pulling back, away from him and closer to the man who was going to become cat chow.

Gabe felt the purr of his Puma, a feral sound, one that he’d become familiar with over the last few months. Oh, hell no, baby. You can try to run, but I will hunt you down. And when I do I’m going to have a few things to say about your relationship with Dr. Deadman.


You’re mine.

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