Monster Man

Published by Blue Moon Creative, LLC

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright by Karen Alarie. All rights reserved,
including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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Smashwords Edition

I make every
effort to research thoroughly all subject matter, but I’m not infallible. If you
find anything in my novels that I have incorrect, please feel free to let me know.

ISBN: 978-0-9909075-0-3

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I'd like to thank beta readers Sue Stewart, Leisha O’Connor, and Gail Demaree. Thank
you, also, to Faith Freewoman for her excellent advice and editing skills and to my proofreader, Judy Witvoet DeVries.

To every woman on this planet who has fantasized about those grid iron heroes.

It took every ounce
of Catherine Everhart’s self-control not to stare at Shane
Bishop, nicknamed Monster Man, who lounged with deceptive ease like a
hungry predator across the conference table of the posh offices of
the San Diego Wildcats. The Wildcats believed community support
initiatives were an important part of their football franchise image,
and Shane was spokesperson for the Wildcats’ new Touch the Moon
Foundation, set up to aid single parents and their children. Although
she hadn’t worked closely with him, Cat saw Shane often in her
capacity as community relations assistant.

As her boss Holly
Masters spoke, Shane turned partway in Cat’s direction and
stole a sideways glance at her. Her heart pounded just a little bit
harder. She couldn’t stop thinking about the bulge he sported
every Sunday beneath his skintight football pants, his fine ass
looking so taut. He must be huge. She shivered.

He did it again and
this time his gaze lingered, caressing her eyes, her cheekbones, the
fall of her sassy red hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she could
see him slide his scorching, nearly savage gaze down her throat,
lingering over her breasts long enough to make them tingle and her
nipples harden. Slow, seductive heat mushroomed inside Cat, drenching
her aching core. She crossed her legs to keep from squirming and that
monster of a man smiled.

Shane was, in fact,
a massive monster of a man. He was a strong safety on the Wildcats’
impressive defensive team and played close to the line of scrimmage.
Because of his ability to cover the deep zone—
man,
she’d like him to cover her deep zone—
and
defend against runs, he was All-American, currently the leading
safety in sacks, touchdowns, and recoveries in the league.

Most of the women in
her office were hot for veteran Clay Masters, the Wildcats’
equally hunky quarterback. She wasn’t sure how Holly felt about
it. She was Clay’s ex-wife, but Cat wasn’t sure she’d
ever gotten over their public break-up and divorce. Rumors were
rampant that Clay had been cheating, but that was never proven.

But Cat only had
eyes for Shane, all six feet, two inches of his 212-pound massive
body. He had to have a big cock, and she was dying to measure—and
savor—every inch of it with her mouth and tongue.

She bit her lip in
frustration. Problem was he was strictly off limits. Raymond T.
Harding, owner, CEO, and killjoy of the Wildcats, prohibited front
office employees from fraternizing with the players.

But the forbidden
aspect just added a layer of sizzling excitement to the temptation.
It didn’t help that Shane was drop-dead gorgeous, with shaggy,
jet black hair, slashing cheekbones, sensually full lips and
almond-shaped eyes, suggesting an Asian ancestor somewhere in his
family tree.

“Cat, do you
think you can handle that?”

Oh, shit, the
boss is talking to me.
Bad move, since the promotion she’d worked so hard for was
hanging in the balance. It was between her and that suck-up, Dick
Samuels. Dragging her eyes from Shane to Holly, a very attractive
brunette who was both fair and smart, who sat waiting patiently, she
realized she had absolutely no idea what Holly was talking about.
Holly was about ten years older than Cat and had been on the fast
track. She’d just been promoted to player relations after
receiving her law degree. She was now vacating the community
relations position, giving Cat an opportunity to advance.

“I’m
sorry, Holly, but what did you say?”

“I’m
assigning you to bring Shane up to speed for the Touch the Moon
Foundation event next Friday night. Halloween fits right into our
moon theme.”

“Work with
Shane…I mean Mr. Bishop?” she squeaked and finally met
Shane’s eyes. They were mysterious and deep, seeming to suck
her into a whirling blackness from which she had no desire to escape.
Yet, even though he met her eyes calmly, Cat could see something
dangerous and wild just below the surface, waiting to break free.

“Is that a
problem, Ms. Everhart?” Shane asked. He had a slow way of
speaking that she found irresistible. She would lie awake at night
thinking about the naughty nothings he’d whisper in her ear.

“No. Not at
all.” Cat stood and turned to Shane. “Mr. Bishop, if
you’ll follow me.”

“Anywhere you
want to lead me, Ms. Everhart,” he whispered in her ear in his
unhurried, rumbly voice. She closed her eyes to gather her composure.
Unfortunately, it only served to focus her senses. She felt the heat
from his big body, smelled his spicy hot scent, and was surrounded by
the resonant, deep timbre of his voice.

She decided to
ignore his comment as she told her hormones to heel. They told her to
shut up and fuck him hard. And a rush of rebellion burned through
her. Screw the whole forbidden thing! It only added to his allure.

He was a big,
enticing presence at her back while she led him to her corner office.
She entered and turned to direct him to a chair, but Shane kept
walking and plowed right into her, knocking her backwards. The grip
of his big hands on her upper arms saved her from a fall.

“Are you
falling for me, Ms. Everhart?”

He knows
.
Of course he knew. She practically undressed him every time she
looked at him. Her breath caught as she gazed at his face. A face
that was much too close and much too handsome.

“Dangerous
ground, Mr. Bishop.”

“Shane.”

“I think it’s
safer if I call you Mr. Bishop.”

“Shane. I
insist.”

He flashed her one
of those melting grins and she found herself nodding like one of
those plastic dogs in the back window of a car.

“Can I get you
anything to drink?” Her assistant Lizzy Jordan poked her head
in and smiled. Shane released Cat and sat down in a chair in front of
her desk.

“Coffee,
black, please,” Shane said. He was wearing a pair of tight
jeans with the knees ripped out and a tattered Wildcats sweatshirt in
the team colors of gold and black—a faded but still ferocious
wildcat on the front, and she knew she’d see “Bishop”
imprinted in gold letters across his impossibly broad shoulders. With
the sleeves ripped off, his biceps bulged and flexed when he moved.

Which in turn made
her crave and ache all the more.

“What can I
get for you, Cat?” Lizzy asked.

“Huh?”
Cat said, her eyes on Shane.

He looked at her and
smirked.

“To drink?”
Lizzy pantomimed a beverage with her cupped hand to her mouth.

A bucket of ice
water.
“Water. Cold water, thanks,” Cat said, trying to force
her mind to concentrate on business. She picked up a sheet of paper
and handed it to Shane. “Here’s the speech I drafted for
you. You can add or subtract whatever you’d like.”

Shane scanned it
while Lizzy walked in with the drinks. Cat took them. Lizzy left,
closing the door behind her. Cat put the water down on her desk,
swiveling towards Shane at the same moment that he reached for the
coffee cup. His hand hit the cup and knocked it. Hot coffee splashed
onto his thigh.

His gasp of pain
sliced through her. “I’m so sorry. Are you burned?”
She set the cup down and grabbed the tissue box sitting on her desk,
wiping at the coffee on his leg. As she swiped, her arm came into
contact with his groin and the hard, rigid bulge beneath his zipper.
Suddenly, she was the one burning.

Shane Bishop didn’t
know what was more tantalizing, having Cat’s hands on his thigh
or her arm against his raging hard-on.

When her arm brushed
the full heat of his throbbing dick, his eyes almost crossed. Fuck,
but she turned him on, and it took everything he had to resist
picking her up, throwing her across the desk, and pumping into her
slick, heated pussy.

Her smoky gray-blue
eyes snapped up to his. In the three years he’d played for the
Wildcats, he’d never been able to stop fantasizing about what
it would be like to have her in his bed. Hell, against a wall, on the
floor, on a desk. He didn’t give a damn. But that stupid
Hardass Harding rule forced him to keep his distance. But the way she
looked at him? Yeah, his restraint wouldn’t last much longer.

“Oh no,”
Cat whispered as she backed away, dropping the sodden tissues in a
trashcan. Shane rose, unable to resist the pull of her, knowing he
was crossing the line, but unable to stop. He stepped closer, his
attraction warring with a self-control that was waning fast.

Her hands flattened
firmly against his chest. “Shane. We can’t.”

“You want me.
I know you do.”

She nodded. Her
hands moved against his pecs and her hands weren’t pushing him
away, but clenching in the fabric. His dick pulsed, hard as he
thought about her holding on to him while he went deep.

When he looked down,
his gaze snagged on the hard points of her nipples, beading against
the soft silk of her shirt. “Never been one for rules.”

“I bet you
know how to break them good.”

“Lock the door
and I’ll show you how I break them…bad.”

“Oh, God,”
she said, her voice soft and breathy, and his control slipped another
notch. Her eyes went to his mouth and lingered there. He wanted her
soft, luscious lips, too.

“One kiss. I
just need to know.”

Cat threw a look at
the door. “If someone were to walk in….”

“Yeah. Makes
it exciting. Take a walk on the wild side—Wild Cat.”

Her hands skimmed up
from his chest to the back of his neck and her lips slammed against
his. The hungry monster inside him lunged and snapped free of its
tight leash.

Her mouth was
ravenous, skilled, and glorious. She opened to him and he groaned.
Her taste was hot and sweet and he wanted more. Her hands found the
hem of his sweatshirt and snaked underneath, the warmth of her palms
brushing over his tight, hard nipples. His heart beat in rhythm to
those soft, searing sweeps. His hands got busy with her shirt,
undoing buttons until he could slide his fingers along the curved
plumpness of one breast.

He lifted his head
slightly, stared down at her heavy-lidded, freaking beautiful green
eyes. Got lost in her. With a soft curse, he changed the slant of his
kiss, settling his mouth more firmly over hers, squeezing her breast
roughly, his thumb rubbing over her nipple until she was gasping into
his mouth.