Chapter 5 #2
“Boone,” I breathe, my pulse jumping hard.
“I’ve got you,” he growls softly, his hands sliding up under my jacket. His palms are scorching where they press flat against the cotton of my sweater, right over my ribs. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
“Since when?”
“Since the second you walked up to my table in the library, sweetheart.”
His mouth crashes back into mine, hungrier this time.
His tongue sweeps past my lips, tangling with mine, and I thread both hands through his thick hair, tugging him closer.
His wolf is right beneath the surface—I can feel it in the heavy vibration in his chest, the possessive grip of his fingers bruising slightly against my waist.
His hands slip beneath the hem of my sweater, his rough, warm palms making direct contact with bare skin. I arch into him with a sharp, needy sound, shivering at the contrast—the cold October air against his burning touch.
“Fuck, Maisie,” he groans against my throat, his lips trailing down to the sensitive skin right below my ear. He sucks a mark into my collarbone, and my hips jerk forward involuntarily against his lap.
The friction tears a groan from him—harsh and ragged, something snapping loose inside.
His hands slide around to cup my breasts through my shirt, palms firm against the fabric of my bra. He thumbs my nipples, and a broken whimper escapes my throat.
"You like that?" His voice comes out thick and rough.
"Yes," I pant, letting my head fall back. "Boone, please..."
"Please what?" He pulls back just enough to look up at me. In the dark, his eyes have gone completely, strikingly gold—irises glowing with raw shifter heat. "Tell me."
"Don't hold back." The words come out breathless, wrecked. "You're always trying so hard to be careful with me. Be a little bit of an animal about it."
Boone's pupils blow wide until the gold is just a thin ring of fire. His grip on my hips tightens to the edge of pain, anchoring me hard against his erection.
"You keep grinding on me like that, Maisie, and I'm gonna strip your pants off right here in the leaves, bend you over this bench, and fuck you until you can't walk straight."
The words rip out of him—dark, filthy, entirely feral.
The clearing goes dead silent except for our ragged breathing.
Boone freezes. His jaw locks, chest heaving, and the gold in his eyes flickers as his human brain catches up to what his wolf just snarled out loud. His throat bobs with a hard swallow, color flooding up his neck.
"Shit," he mutters, voice dropping into horrified mortification. "I'm—Maisie, I'm sorry. That was too much. I didn't mean to—"
"Don't you dare apologize." I cut him off, voice shaking with equal parts shock and pure, molten arousal. A slow, wicked grin spreads across my face as I stare down at him. "Holy shit, Kinkaid. Is that what's going on in that polite head of yours?"
Boone lets out a ragged, strained laugh, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "You're killing me. You're actually going to kill me."
"Good to know what I'm working with." I trace the tense muscles of his shoulders with my fingers. "So... are you going to do that?"
He groans into my skin, his hands gripping my hips tightly, holding me completely still so neither of us can move.
"No," he says, his voice muffled against my neck. "Not tonight."
He slowly lifts his head, his amber eyes clear again, though the heat still blazes in them. He pulls my sweater down, smoothing the fabric over my skin with careful, deliberate gentleness.
"Why?" I ask quietly, not hurt, just curious.
"Because when we do this," Boone says softly, cupping my jaw with one large palm, his thumb brushing over my swollen lower lip, "I want you to know everything. I want you to have the whole story, every piece of it, and choose me anyway. Not because I lost my mind under some trees at a festival."
I look at him. I don't know what 'the whole story' means yet, but I can see the profound weight behind it. He isn't rejecting me. He's protecting my choice, even when every instinct in his body screams at him to take what's right in front of him.
Something warm and solid settles deep in my chest.
"Okay," I say softly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I lean down and press a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips. "For the record, though... this was the best date I've ever had."
Boone smiles, bright and genuine, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest while the maple leaves fall around us.
We walk back through campus hand in hand. The festival is starting to wind down, but Boone doesn't rush. He holds my hand like it's the most natural thing in the world, his thumb rubbing small circles over my knuckles the entire way to my dorm.
At the front doors, he leans down and kisses my forehead, soft and lingering.
"Goodnight, Maisie."
"Night, Boone."
I slip inside and watch through the glass as he turns and walks back across the quad with a slight bounce in his step.
When I unlock my dorm room door, Delilah is sitting at her desk with a stack of tarot cards and a half-burned sage bundle. She takes one look at my swollen lips, my flushed cheeks, and the leaf tangled in my hair, and immediately sweeps the cards into a neat pile.
"Okay," Delilah says, crossing her arms with a vicious grin. "Spill."