Shifters of Silver Peak: Mate For A Month by Georgette St. Clair

stared up at him, her eyes glazed over with a deep, carnal hunger that shocked her. She’d never felt anything like this before.
    Mine. Need. Want.
    Fuck me. Hard.
    She stifled a gasp at her own crude thoughts as he stepped back away from her again. He was going to leave now. No. She didn’t want him to.
    “Marcus, why did you just run off to work this morning? Why did you run off after you met me yesterday? Basically, why are you avoiding me?”
    A frown creased his forehead. “For the same reason I avoid everyone. I don’t want to hurt you.”
    She cleared her throat. “You won’t hurt me. I swear.”
    “You don’t know me.” There were depths of pain in his eyes that she’d never seen before. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
    She managed a weak smile. “I might be stronger than I seem.”
    At that, he managed a grim, answering smile in return. “I might be more broken than you think.”
    A long, awkward silence stretched out between them.
    “I can’t kiss you again,” he said in tones of great regret. “Because I might not be able to stop myself next time.”
    “What if I didn’t want you to stop?” That might just have been the bravest thing she’d ever said. She waited for him to mock her, to laugh at her, to sneer that he’d never want a stupid, clumsy little weakling like her.
    He just shook his head sadly.
    “We wouldn’t work together. You’re a good person. I’m…not. I’m hardly even a person at all, most days.” She started to protest, but he kept talking. “And I’m not safe to be around. I have nightmares and I break things when I’m sleeping. If I hurt you by accident…” a dark look crossed his face, so miserable and wretched that she felt it deep in her soul.
    But he wasn’t ready to talk about what had put that look there.
    She took a deep breath. All she could do was try to break the mood.
    “Hey. You know what I’ve never done before?” she said brightly.
    “Laundry?”
    Then he threw back his head and laughed as she punched him in the arm as hard as she could.
    “You son of a bitch .”
    “Well, I’m a wolf, Eileen, so yes. I’m a son of a bitch.”
    “What I’ve never done before is take off my clothing in front of someone else, shift, and run through the woods.”
    “You’ve never…” He shook his head in bafflement. “Never?”
    “No. My group takes off our clothing indoors, in private rooms, then we shift, then we stroll for a while in animal form.” She glanced at the door, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Shall we?”
    “We shall.” He was gently mocking her, but the laughter in his eyes made her smile. “I’ll show you some of my favorite places.”
    She followed him outside the cabin, turned her back on him, took her clothes off and folded them neatly.
    She turned around to see him staring at her with amusement.
    “Don’t go crazy now, Miss Wild Thing,” he said as she carefully set her clothing down on a tree stump by the side of the door. His clothes were in a pile on the ground.
    She gave him a look of annoyance, sank to the ground and shifted. Marcus beat her to it. It took her about five seconds; he seemed to go from man to wolf in zero seconds flat.
    Then, instead of walking slowly and daintily, she turned and ran straight for the treeline. She leaped over the tree stump he used as a chopping block, tore past the workshop and kept running.
    She felt her heart speed up as he chased after her, and the wind rushed through her fur, and a thousand delicious scents swirled through the air. She pushed her way through bushes, not caring about the leaves and twigs that were tangling in her fur.
    With Marcus’ massive wolf beside her, she happily snuffled in the dirt, sniffed the air, and even howled. Long, throaty howls of joy. She felt a freedom like she’d never known before, as if she’d shed a tight, constricting skin that restricted her movements and dulled her senses.
    Heaven.
    They finally raced back to the cabin, and