Protecting a Mate by Maria Connor Page B

even though they hurt like a bitch. A guy had to show off even if he was in pain.
    “Shit, you’re bruised,” she whimpered in distress, her voice taking on a chittering quality, as her gentle fingertips stroked his stomach. His cock took notice, the beast south of the belt rising to the occasion. Hurriedly he grabbed her hands and diverted her attention, adding a smile in case he scared her.
    He was a big fucker and he knew it. He found moving slowly and carefully kept others’ fear of him at bay. He’d actually made women faint before. Clean away. Just like that. He also caught them, held them close, and enjoyed… Right. He shouldn’t think about other women while his mate stood inches from him.
    “I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he coughed, uncomfortable with their position. If she glanced down, she’d see how fine he was. “I’ll heal. Err…” He really needed her to stop staring at his body before he threw her onto the car’s hood, flipped up her skirt, and tasted her. He bet she’d be sugary sweet.
    “My eyes are up here, doll,” he rumbled as she twisted and turned to look at his injured stomach.
    Then again, when even more of her scent filled his nose, the wind gathering it and blowing it to him, he figured he’d let her look at him a little longer. Fuck, she smelled so good. All spice and forest and…
    He frowned. “You’re a ferret.”
    She blinked, looking up at him with wide eyes and he felt sucker-punched all over again. His mate was a beauty with chocolate brown hair, light brown sugar eyes, and lickable curves. He wanted to trace each with his tongue, learn every dip and bend of her body. He still clutched her delicate wrists in his big hands, and the fear he’d break her rushed forward.
    Dammit, he reminded himself how small she was.
    “Yeah, I’m a ferret.” Abruptly, she yanked her hands away, a scowl on her perfect little lips. Her perfect little kissable lips. He expected her statement to be followed with got a problem with it, but instead, she slid into professional mode. “Do you know where I can find Foster Lawson, the new foreman?”
    “Yeah,” he nodded in reply to her question. Still struck dumb by her beauty, he wasn’t sure he could get much else out. “He’s around.”
    She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Do you plan on sharing more of this knowledge, or are you going to make me guess where? I have to tell you, I’m not in the mood for games, and if I have to bust out with animal, mineral, or vegetable I’m gonna be annoyed.”
    Great. Now she was even more pissed.
    “You found him.” He pointed at himself. “Whatcha need, doll?”

    *
Mel needed many things. Many, many things. Like a bed—she licked her lips—with him in it and naked as the day he was born. Because… gorgeous.
    Dark brown hair, chocolate-hued eyes easing toward black the longer she stared, and muscles for miles. Muscles she got to stroke, even if only a little while. Then he’d put his hands on hers and then with the speaking and then… he ruined it with the whole “you’re a ferret” thing. No shit. She’d been one since she was born.
    That was her mate, Captain Obvious.
    Well, if he had a problem with ferrets, she still had her vibrator, so there . She had the urge to stick out her tongue but held herself in check. Barely.
    “Doll?”
    Oh. Right. He was speaking and she was still mad at him. Right?
    She met those nearly black eyes and watched them darken further as his… She sniffed the air.
    Delicately of course because a Baxter did not ever bring attention to a natural bodily function such as breathing. God, she hated her stuck up mother sometimes. Most times.
    Back to sniffing and sorting through his flavors until she found his natural scent. The inherent smells of his animal—his bear . It explained all the muscles and his size. Speaking, er, thinking of sizes… He was massive everywhere, but especially there and he was definitely turned on by her nearness. Even if