Free Monster Man by Zoe Dawson

The Story
    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