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"Can you guarantee that you'll be there the day of the full moon? For the two nights before it? Each and every month, for as long as we're together?"
He frowned. "No one can guarantee that."
"Another wolf can. He'll be there because he has to be there, for exactly the same reasons as I have to be there."
"You're not fucking another wolf at the moment." He hesitated, and something close to malevolence flickered across his face. "Besides Misha, of course."
"I met that alpha last night. I intend to see him again."
"Why?"
The urge to throw the plate at his thick head was so strong I had to clench my fingers to stop them from grabbing it. "I've told you why a hundred times. Stop thinking with your dick and start listening!"
His expression darkened. "Believe me, I'm not thinking with my dick here."
"You don't know me well enough to be thinking with anything else," I refuted. "For Christ's sake, you don't even like werewolves. Why in hell would you want to go exclusive with me?"
"If I had any choice in the matter, I would not be doing this."
I raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm hardly forcing you into it."
"No?"
"No."
"Then why do you invade my dreams?"
"It wasn't like I was doing it purposely. I was just dreaming."
"Only they weren't just dreams, but erotic dreams."
I frowned, wondering what the hell he was getting at. "So?"
"So, you weren't just dreaming, you were connecting to my mind and sharing those dreams with me."
I blinked. We'd been having real mind sex? How cool was that? And why couldn't we share something like that while waking?
"Because neither of us are physically ready for that sort of experience."
Annoyance swept through me. "Will you keep out of my damn thoughts?"
"You shield if you want me out."
I threw up full shields and gave him a glare. It was water off a duck's back. "What do you mean, neither of us are ready to share that sort of experience?"
"Just that. Merging minds during sex is as intimate as you can get, an experience that can forever effect you."
I raised an eyebrow. "You've done it?"
He hesitated. "Once."
"With whom?"
"The whom isn't important - "
"See," I cut in, throwing up my hands. "You want me to go exclusive, and yet you're not willing to tell me a damn thing about you or your past."
"The past is not important."
