Page 73 of Dreamscape Therapies

After several minutes, Jay finally lifts his head enough to look at me.

"We should wake up so we can get some sleep."

I grumble my agreement, tightening my arms around him.

Neither of us moves.

Jay smiles against my chest.

"I said we should wake up."

"I heard you."

"Then why aren't you moving?"

"Because I'm comfortable."

He laughs softly, settling back against me. "You're impossible."

I close my eyes and hold him a little tighter, completely unwilling to give up the warmth of the moment just yet.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jay

I should not have slept in my chair last night.

The moment I stand, my body protests, popping and cracking as I stretch my stiff muscles. My neck is especially unhappy with me, refusing to turn properly to the right. I rub at the sore spot and glance over at Vincent, who is still sprawled across the couch looking entirely too comfortable.

Last night was... different.

I've never crossed the line with a patient before. Not even close. I know Vincent is different, and I know the connection between us isn't something either of us chose, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm supposed to be the professional here. I should have resisted harder. I should have remembered that I'm his therapist before I let myself become anything else.

Instead, I spent an entire dream being chased through a forest by an alpha who looked like something pulled straight from an ancient nightmare, and somehow I found the whole experience incredibly appealing.

I glance at Vincent again, my mind automatically cataloging the details of his shifted form with the same clinical precision I use during an intake assessment.

He had stood over seven feet tall, his body covered in thick dark hair and a weathered animal pelt draped across his broad shoulders. A bleached wolf skull covered the upper half of his face, smooth pale bone framed by enormous deer antlers that branched at least four feet across. His hands ended in long, dangerous claws, while his legs disappeared into enormous wolf paws that moved almost silently through the forest.

The whole effect should have been terrifying.

Predatory. Powerful. Otherworldly.

And yet, somehow, all I could think about was how carefully he touched me.

How gentle he was.

And the fact that I'd willingly asked him to hunt me through the woods like prey.

I'm a terrible therapist.

Vincent lets out a sleepy groan beside me and stretches like an oversized cat, making himself even more comfortable.

I bet he slept perfectly last night.

The bastard.

"Morning," he says through a jaw-cracking yawn.