Page 8 of Lucien

Possibly because Dream Guy didn’t need to breathe at all. Jamie wasn’t quite sure how that worked yet.

Jamie had taken a step back, immediately regretting the distance. But apparently they were starting at square one, and Jamie had really needed to slow his roll before he scared him off entirely.

But still. “Smile for me?” Jamie hadn’t been able to help asking. He’d wanted to see those chompers in the flesh, so to speak.

But Dream Guy’s lips had stayed firmly closed, that stern, stunned expression frozen in place on his handsome face.

“Hmm.” Jamie had pursed his lips thoughtfully, tapping his fingers restlessly against his jeans, wishing he hadn’t dropped that cigarette. He could have used something to take the edge off. It was the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a teenager—the very first time he’d had the vision but definitely not the last.

“Are you going to say anything?” he’d asked, cocking his head.

A slight shake of the head, that intense gaze still focused on Jamie. He’d wanted to bask in it, like the fucking sun.

“Can I touch you?”

Another shake of the head, more pronounced this time.

It was all a bit surprising because damn, Jamie hadn’t expected his dream guy to be so fuckingshy.

He’d sighed, rocking back on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop the nervous finger tapping. “So no talking and no touching. All right, then. Clearly you need some time to process or whatever. But I’ll be back tomorrow night. I expect to see you here. Don’t fuck it up.”

He hadn’t bothered explaining whatitwas. Whatever Dream Guy knew or didn’t know about the two of them, he’d clearly had an intense reaction to Jamie’s presence. He had to havesomesense of their connection.

Jamie would have to have faith. And maybe a bit of patience.

He could do that. Probably. The former he was good enough with, the latter…well, he’d waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

But notmuchlonger, please and thank you.

Dream Guy had nodded slightly at his words, his hands clenching at his sides. Fuck, but Jamie had wanted him to speak. Was his voice as gruff and raspy and delicious as it sounded in Jamie’s head?

But it wasn’t happening that night. He’d watched as Dream Guy turned and left the alleyway, his movements stiff and unnatural. Jamie knew for a fact he could move with more languid grace than that. Must have been having an off day.

It had taken everything in Jamie to hold still when he’d fled, to not run after his monster and cling to his side like a fucking mollusk. But Jamie wasn’t going to beg anyone to stay who didn’t want to. That wasn’t something he would ever do.

The plus side was he’d gotten a real nice view of anamazing, muscled ass on the guy’s way out. Dream Guy could fill out that denim; that was for sure.

“Fuck, yes,” Jamie breathed, adjusting himself in his own jeans as he thought back on it. Soon enough he’d get his hands on that ass. That body. That cock.

He laughed to himself, heading back into the bar through the back door.

His life was just getting better and better.

Monique was inside, wiping down the counter, her black braids swishing with her movements. It looked like she’d already kicked the patrons out for the night. She glanced up at Jamie’s entrance, eyes widening as she took him in. “What the fuck are you smiling like that for? Someone just suck you off in the alleyway?”

Jamie laughed wildly, feeling a little manic. “I fucking wish.”

He skipped up to the bar, plopping himself down on a stool. “But nope. Better. Much better. I just met—” He paused for dramatic effect. “—the One.”

Monique halted her cleaning, eyeing him like he’d just announced he’d flown to the moon and back. “Excuse me?”

Jamie nodded sagely. It was impressive news; he didn’t blame her awe. “I’ve met him. The One.”

She cocked her head at him, arching a brow. “Just now. In the alleyway.”

“Yep.”

Monique dropped the rag she’d been using and crossed her arms, leaning a hip against the bar, giving him her undivided attention. “And what’s his name?”

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