Carol’s Mate: Chapter Two

Carol didn’t know which stunned her more: the hit or the luscious scent of the sweaty, large male body pinning her smaller one to the earth. No nonshape-shifter male should smell this good. He smelled like a true mate, but that was impossible. Shape-shifters couldn’t mate with humans, not anymore. They were incompatible with her species, and she wanted children someday.

She could feel her beast stirring, roused no doubt by his tantalizing scent. Carol shoved at his shoulders, trying to get him off her before she did something stupid, like lick him from head to toe.

“Are you all right? I didn’t mean to hit you that hard,” he said.

“I’m fine. Or I will be as soon as you move. You’re kind of heavy.” Actually she was enjoying the weight of his body a little too much. It would be even better if they were naked. She bit back a moan as she got a visual.

“Oh, sorry.” He sprang to his feet and held out a meaty hand to help her up.

Carol pretended not to notice. Instead she rolled over onto her knees and slowly pushed to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yes, just stiff,” she assured him. She might be a little sore later. He may only be human, but he hit like one of her kind.

Before he could say anything else, her teammates surrounded her. Once they were assured she was okay, they regaled her with a replay of the touchdown she’d missed. She congratulated them and, with a glance at her watch, announced she had to leave. “I’ve got tons of studying to do tonight, and now I’m behind schedule.”

With her departure, the game broke up, with calls for a rematch soon sounding in the air. She grabbed her backpack, tossed it over her shoulder, and headed once more for student parking.

Halfway to her destination, she heard a voice calling out, “Carol, wait.”

Oh damn. It was Mr. Luscious Smelling. Not only did he smell good, but he was one fine, attractive brother. As dark as a milk chocolate bar, he was handsome enough to give Blair Underwood a run for his money. In other words, he was trouble, and she was too interested. She tucked in her chin and pretended not to hear him as she subtly picked up the pace.

He came jogging up beside her and held out a familiar-looking navy blue piece of clothing. “You forgot your hoodie.”

She chanced a quick glance at his face as she reached for it. “Thanks. I would have been looking for it later.”

“My name’s Mark Johnson,” he said as he fell in step with her. She couldn’t help noticing he was a perfect match for her own five-eleven stature. Where she was slender, he had the body of a wolf-shifter—big with lots of muscle.

“Carol Scott,” she automatically replied, then wanted to smack herself. He already knew her name. To cover her embarrassment, she swung her bag around and pulled her keys out of the front pocket.

“Say, you want to get a cup of coffee sometime or maybe see a movie together—my treat?” he asked.

“No.”

He stopped. “No?”

She kept walking, fighting a smile.

He quickly caught up to her again. “You’re seeing someone?”

“No.”

“So what’s the problem?” he asked, as though unable to believe she’d turned him down. Hmm, much too cocky for his own good.

Carol finally stopped and looked at him. “I’m here to get an education, not find a boyfriend or a husband.”

“What about a friend? Can you manage one of those?”

“With you?” Starting at his feet, clad in high-priced if a little beat-up tennis shoes, she worked her gaze up his body: long legs and thick, muscular thighs stuffed in faded denims which were white at the seams; a trim waist and flat stomach revealed a hint of muscle in the tight black T-shirt he wore; massive chest with clearly defined pecs; broad shoulders; corded neck and face that looked better the longer she gazed at it.

Some of the attraction she was feeling must have reflected in her expression, because he straightened and took a small, determined step forward. “No,” she stated firmly, answering both his question and the sexual intent of a prime male on the prowl she could see on his face.

With that, she pivoted and walked off, but not before she saw the small, sexy smile creeping across his face…



She came back to the present to see that same sexy smile on her mate’s face as he watched her. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

“Merry Christmas, yourself,” she replied with a grin.

“Where were you? You appeared to be a million miles away.”

She rolled to face him, tucking an arm beneath the pillow cushioning her head. “I was remembering the day we first met.”

Mark groaned even as he grinned. “The day you shot me down in flames? The guys harassed me for weeks.”

She laughed. “Serves you right. I didn’t even know you and could tell you were a player.”

“It was all practice for you, babe,” he said in a voice as smooth as silk.

“See what I mean?” She hit him with her pillow.

He growled playfully and wrestled her for control of it. Finally, after a few moments of tussling, he managed to snatch it from her and toss it to the floor. She tickled him, and he cried out, “This means war!”

They grappled, making a mess of the bed and its covers. Carol laughingly surrendered when Mark pinned her to the mattress with her hands over her head.

“I married a crazy woman.”

“A crazy woman who loves you dearly.”

“Not as much as I love you.” His mouth covered hers.

As usual, it was like setting a match to tinder. They both went up in flames. It didn’t matter they’d been together for years and made love countless times. Each time felt like the first.

“Oh, baby, I can’t get enough of your pussy,” Mark told her as he drove into her. “It was made just for me. Tell me you feel the same.”

“I do.” She moaned. “I can’t get enough of your big, thick cock.”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. The sudden movement dislodged him. “Ride me. I want to watch your tits bounce as you take your pleasure.”

Carol spread her knees on either side of him for leverage and, taking hold of his penis, guided him to her opening. She impaled herself on him, inch by marvelous inch, back arched, one hand braced on her thigh for balance.

“You are so sexy. Take all of me.”

Carol took her sweet time about it, loving the stretch and clasp of her sheath as he filled her completely. Once their pubic hairs meshed, she commanded, “Move with me.”

“Whatever you say, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Deep and hard, but not too fast,” she instructed.

She reached behind her to rest her hands on his thighs, knowing the position thrust her breasts out at him prominently. He groaned his appreciation, gaze glued on her nipples, which were tight and puckered as though begging for his mouth. As she ground down on his cock in a circular motion, he pumped his hips up. Their position allowed him to ram deep with little effort.

Soon she was moaning, claws extended and fangs showing. Mark growled, his eyes glowing gold in the muted light of the room. They were both close. He scraped her clit with the tip of his claw, and she came, screaming.

Clamping his hands on her hips and using the mattress as a springboard, he bounced her up and down on his cock until he howled his release. She fell forward, shuddering, on top of him. Their hearts pounded in rhythm together.

As their breathing slowed, Mark drawled, “A very merry Christmas to me already. After this, anything else will be icing on the cake.”

“If I’d have known you were this easy, I’d have saved my money.”

In retaliation for her sass, he slapped her on the ass. She tickled him to get even, and the loving started all over again. Today was shaping up to be a very merry Christmas indeed, she thought.