Dreaming in Color by Cameron Dane (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

a permanent physical mark. It shocked me to see it for a minute; that's all. It doesn't gross me out or anything.”

“Okay.” Colin moved toward Marek with a slow, purposeful pace, putting Marek in mind of a sleek predator stalking game. “So long as I don't have to deal with you thinking I'm a freak”—he circled close to Marek, invading his space once again—“then we're cool.”

Colin's proximity affected Marek's breathing, making it a tangible, audible thing. “I can't promise that.” Marek couldn't look away from Colin's eyes, and he followed with every shift Colin made around him. Feeling sucked under the other man's spell, Marek's voice was husky, lending a seductive tone he could not control. “You do insist you're having dreams about me and my house.” He forced lightness and a wolfish smile to his face, needing the levity. “That's pretty damned freakish to me.”

Colin's face blanched for a split second and then he shoved Marek in the shoulder, making Marek stumble backward. “You son of a bitch jerk, calling me a freak.” His stare narrowed to slits of green. “You'll pay for that.” He rammed Marek in the stomach with his shoulder, stealing Marek's breath. “Hit the water, Donovan!” Colin pushed with every ounce of his strength; Marek could feel the guy's muscles straining. “Now!”

Marek grunted and fought back, tangling with Colin like a wrestler. He jammed his arms under Colin's and tried to flip the man over his shoulder, but Colin held with surprising power and forced Marek to the edge of the dock, nudging the heels of his bare feet nearly over the side. Adrenaline and endorphins rushed through Marek in a flood, forcing a burst of laughter out of him as he struggled, and in the process he gave up a bit more of the dock. His toes dug into the wood, but gravity pulled at the angle his body hung at, weakening his already shaky hold.

Colin wrapped his arms around Marek's waist and tried to force Marek to turn with his body. “Damn it. Give it up”—Marek's shoulder muffled Colin's voice—“or I'll fucking kiss you to get you in.”

His body jerking in response, Marek grabbed at Colin's hair and yanked his head back, locking onto his open gaze. A flash of instant fire ignited. They both tumbled off the dock and then hit the water together with a stinging crash.

The impact of his back slamming against the water knocked the wind right out of Marek's lungs, stunning him for a moment. Before he could catch his breath, a giant splash came right at his face, dousing him with salty spray. Another came right on top of that, pushing Marek toward the shore with the force behind Colin's playful attack. Colin gave a masculine cry of victory and skimmed his hands across the water, rushing repeated arcs of the stuff at Marek with his cupped hands.

A burst of energy put Marek into motion. “You'll regret that, rookie!” He found his footing in the shallower part of the bank and swung both his arms through the water, rushing a wall of ocean right back at Colin's face. He did it repeatedly, creating huge swells and man-made waves that completely engulfed Colin in the rush.

“All right, I give!” Colin coughed and sputtered, waving his hands. “Uncle. Uncle.” Another wave bobbed him up and down in its current. “Uncle.”

Marek shouted in triumph and pumped his fists, but swam out to Colin and grabbed his arm so he didn't float any farther out into the ocean. He smirked though; he couldn't help it. “That'll teach you to challenge the one who lives with the ocean as his front yard every single day.” He towed Colin to a point where his feet would touch the ocean floor and he could walk the rest of the way on his own.

Rather than moving up the beach, Colin dropped to sit down right near the shoreline and let his legs rest in the shallow water. “You do have a very nice liquid lawn, Marek; I will agree with that.” Colin looked across the sparkling water and up at the clear blue sky, squinting his eyes. “Damn, it sure is pretty.”

Marek took a good look around and almost felt like he gazed upon this landscape for the very first time. Its beauty staggered him, and he knew Payton would have loved every inch of it. Grief enveloped Marek, and he knew that somewhere, Payton was sad too. He's upset you've wasted two years hiding smack in the middle of paradise, never once opening your eyes and appreciating it, even if you could only do it for him.

Colin suddenly shot to his feet and spun around, turning in a slow circle. “Oh fuck.” He grasped his chest.

Leaping up too, Marek grabbed Colin's arm. “What?” Panic gripped his stomach. “What's the matter?”

Colin glanced at Marek's house then down at the sand, and his face scrunched, as if he couldn't identify where he stood. “I felt it,” he whispered. “I felt it just now.”

Fear sliced through Marek, shocking him in its intensity. “Felt what?” he asked, although he was almost afraid to know. “Are you hurt?”

“No. The pull.” Rubbing his open hand over his chest, Colin shook his head. “I felt the pull.”

“I don't understand.”

“The gut sensation, the invisible string”—Colin made his hands into fists and held them against his stomach—“the feeling that went through me the night I saw the red door and swam to your house in my first dream.” He looked into Marek's eyes, without a hint of hiding. “I felt the power that took me over and brought me in contact with you. The one that kept bringing me back every night.”

“What?” Marek shook his head. No fucking way. “No. That's not possible.”

Colin grabbed Marek by the forearms with a digging, tight hold. “Do you swear you've never had any kind of dream about me in the past two years?”

“I haven't. I promise.” Disturbed, Marek untangled himself from Colin's hands and buried his