Page 23 of The Werewolf’s Study Date

Soren looks across the room again as the girl pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling down at her map.

His entire face changes. Barely. Anyone else would miss it, but I don’t.

“She doesn’t even know who I am,” he says quietly.

“She will.”

Maisie comes back carrying two coffees and looks between us. “Are we done having our mysterious creature conversation?”

“No,” Soren says.

“Yes,” I say at the same time.

She narrows her eyes.

Soren takes one look at her suspicious face and immediately focuses on his ruined coffee cup which has me biting back a laugh.

For the last month, this asshole has been watching me lose my mind over Maisie like it’s his favorite form of entertainment. Now eternity just walked into a student center wearing a yellow sweater. I give him three days.

That night back at my apartment, studying lasts all of twenty minutes before Maisie dumps her notebook on the coffee table, straddles my lap, and tangles both hands in my hair.

"Hi," she whispers, her mouth already inches from mine.

"Hi."

She kisses me hard, parting my lips with an urgency that sets my blood on fire. My hands lock onto her hips, dragging her flush against me. She groans into my mouth, shifting against my growing erection, and my wolf surges to the surface with a low rumble in my chest.

She pulls back just enough to catch her breath, reaches down, and yanks her sweatshirt and shirt straight off over her head.

She's in a plain cotton bra, flushed and gorgeous, her bare skin glowing in the lamplight. My brain completely shorts out.

"Boone," she breathes, pressing her palms flat against my chest. "Stop being so fucking careful with me."

"Maisie..." My voice comes out rough as gravel. "My instincts have been getting stronger lately. If we keep going⁠—"

"I'm not asking you to behave," she cuts in, leaning forward to kiss along my jawline, driving me out of my mind. "I want you."

I want her so badly it feels like my ribs are cracking under the pressure. I reach behind her and unclip the bra, tossing it aside, and cup her breasts in my hands. When my thumbs brush her nipples, she arches off my thighs with a broken whimper. I kiss down her throat, sucking a dark mark into the junction of her shoulder, gripping her waist so tight it borders on bruising.

She moves against me, trying to push closer, but every rational alarm in my head is blaring. I can't take her—can't cross this line—while she's still in the dark about who we are.

"Wait," I manage, pulling my mouth away and gripping her shoulders to steady us both. "Maisie, wait. We need to pause."

"Why?" She looks down at me, dazed, her lips swollen and her eyes dark with want. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." I grab her sweatshirt from the couch and carefully drape it over her shoulders so she isn't cold. My hands are shaking from the effort of pulling back. "I just... I want you to have all the information before we do this. I don't want any secrets between us."

Maisie pulls the sweatshirt over her head, her expression shifting from hazy arousal to quiet curiosity. She tucks her legs underneath her on the sofa. "Okay. What information? The whole full moon thing?"

"Yeah," I say, running a hand over my face. "That, and what it means for shifters."

"Is it like the movies?"

"No." I let out a faint laugh. "No involuntary fur. It's just instincts. Everything gets louder. Unmated wolves get restless. Mated ones settle."

Maisie tilts her head, watching me closely. "What does that actually feel like? Recognizing your mate?"

"It's immediate certainty," I tell her honestly. "Your instincts completely reorganize around that one person. Before you even know their name, they're the only thing that matters."