Carol’s Mate: Chapter Three

Mark watched his wife dress. There were days when he still couldn’t believe this sexy, beautiful, smart, and talented woman belonged to him. She was more than he’d ever hoped for. More than he deserved.

Carol was right. Back in the day, he’d been a major player. He looked good, and he knew it. Always a nice dresser, he carried himself in a manner that drew women to him. The military had only increased his appeal to the opposite sex. Women loved a man in uniform.

Then she’d come along and ruined him for any other. He wouldn’t trade her for the world. She’d thought he was joking earlier, but all the others were only practice for her. Because of them, he’d learned how to satisfy a woman, so when the real deal came along—Carol—he’d known exactly how to please her and keep her satisfied. No way was she looking elsewhere. He’d make sure to always give his woman everything she needed and more.

Mark remembered the first time he’d seen Carol. He’d been playing football with a group of guys, and she’d joined the opposing team. After four years of active duty in the army’s GI program and an additional four years serving in the reserves, he’d had no problems with females playing what most guys considered to be a strictly male sport. Long and lithe, even in the baggy sweat suit she had been wearing, he’d had no doubt she could handle herself.

Ignoring his fellow teammates' heckling as they’d tried to intimidate her from joining the game, he’d settled down to play the sport he loved. He had been doing a good job of treating her like one of the guys until she took off the hooded jacket. The sweet curves revealed had done a number on him.

Her breasts were high and firm, and it hadn’t looked like she was wearing a bra under the fitted, dark blue T-shirt. If she was, it hadn’t done much to hide her peaked nipples. And when she bent over, the curve of her ass had made him want to take a bite out of it. She had a sistah booty. Not too big but high, tight, and definitely prominent enough to make a man sit up and take notice.

He’d had a hard time keeping his head in the game after that. He was too caught up in watching her move. They’d already realized she was quick on her feet, but she was also graceful like a gazelle, with the ability to slip through their fingers like water. A pure pleasure to watch. Her pecan brown complexion, coupled with dark brown eyes with a hint of gold, had drawn his gaze again and again. Long microplaits of what looked to be her real hair and not weave had fallen in a wave down her back, making him want to tangle his fingers in it as he drew her to him for a kiss.

He’d never been so enthralled by a woman.

Then came the last play of the day when he’d unexpectedly tackled her hard. He’d fully expected her to dodge him as she’d done any of the other guys who’d gotten in range, so he hadn’t held back. He didn’t know who was more surprised when they’d bounced off the ground before settling in a tangle of arms and legs—her or him. Immediately he’d become concerned he’d hurt her.

He should have known better. Despite her delicate looks, she was tough. When she’d left the game soon after, he’d followed and asked her out, unable to help himself. She’d shot him down. At first he’d been shocked.

At twenty-eight, he was older than most full-time college students. His time in the military had given him an air of competency and maturity a lot of other college guys lacked, as well as a buff, muscular physique he’d kept up even after his discharge. He didn’t have a problem gaining female companionship, and he was attractive enough women sought him out. But this one, she’d said no. No explanations, no qualifications, just no.

He’d pushed until she gave him some lame excuse about focusing on her education, but the look she’d given him… She’d wanted him, and the feeling had been mutual. He determined then and there he’d have her.

It turned out to be easier said than done. She’d avoided him at every turn. Refused every invitation. Wouldn’t tell him where she lived or give him her phone number. If he showed up at some place where she was, she’d leave soon after.

Carol hadn’t been playing hard to get. She really wasn’t interested in a relationship with him or any other guy. Mark knew because he’d asked around. She hadn’t dated anyone in the three, almost four years she’d been on campus. He should have left it alone. Left her alone, but he couldn’t. It was as though he was being driven to pursue and possess her. He couldn’t understand—not then—why he’d wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another female. Now he knew it had been the mating fever at work.

It had made him crazy. He’d had a hard time concentrating on his studies. Finally he’d cornered her…