My face was on fire. Because he was right. Daphne liked to underline the passages she liked, Bella liked to highlight with different colors, and Krystin drew on them, usually explicit andterrible drawings. But those notes…Those were mine. Notes I’d made while reading late at night, half-drunk on wine, thinking about things I absolutely should not have been thinking about. Notes that had gotten progressively more desperate as the book went on. Notes that may or may not have involved imagining a certain werewolf doing certain things.
I was either going to die of mortification or kill him slowly and painfully.
“Can I have my book back please?”
“I would like to read it.” He held it against his chest, possessive. “To better understand human perceptions of wolf bonds. For research purposes.”
“Research purposes,” I repeated flatly. “Absolutely not.” I lunged for the book again. He held it out of reach, the bastard. “You can’t read that. It’s - it’s book club material. Private.”
“You just explained that book clubs are for discussing books. How can I participate in discussion without reading the material?”
“You’re not participating! This is friend time!”
“But I wish to learn about your world. Your customs. Your... literature.” The way he said literature made it sound like he knew exactly what kind of book this was.
Which he would, very soon. And I’d left approximately seventeen thousand sticky notes in it. Including one that said “if a man ever did this to me I would combust” next to a particularly explicit scene.
“Malachar.” I tried to sound firm. Authoritative. “Give me the book.”
“No.”
“That’s not a request, that’s an order. From your boss.”
“You said I should learn about human culture. This appears to be an excellent educational resource.”
He studied me for a long moment. Then his smile turned wicked. “You are embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed, I’m-”
“You are. Your face is red. Your heartbeat has quickened. You do not wish me to read this, which only makes me want to read it more.”
Krystin lost the battle with her laughter. It burst out of her, loud and uncontrolled.
“I’m going to murder you.”
“I will not oppose it. You can do whatever you want with me, little mate.” He winked at me.
“Fucking hell.” I mumbled, face burning like a damn tomato.
“I will read this book,” he declared, tucking it more firmly under his arm. “I will learn what human females find appealing in wolf mates. And then perhaps...” His eyes met mine, intense and predatory. “Perhaps I will know better how to court and pleasure you.”
My brain short-circuited. “Court me?”
I wasnotgoing to repeat thepword.
“Yes. Clearly I have been too subtle. This book will serve as an excellent instruction manual.”
“It’s not - that’s not - you can’t-”
“Why not? You seem quite enthusiastic about the male’s behavior in this story. Perhaps if I emulate him, you will be equally enthusiastic about mine.”
Bella made a strangled noise. Daphne looked ready to write a novel about this conversation. Krystin was crying with laughter.
“What if you think of me while reading it?” The question came out before I could stop it. “Would you... would you imagine...”
I couldn’t finish. Couldn’t say it out loud. Didn’t know why the hell I even asked it.Why, brain, why?!
His expression softened. His eyes darkened. “Little mate, I think of you constantly. Every moment. Waking and sleeping. I think of how you would feel in my arms. How you would taste. How you would sound when I-”
