Beta's Baby: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (Wolves Hollow Book 2) Page 4

  He stared into her eyes and entered her, stretching her and making her toes curl.

  “Scott,” she whispered. “You feel so good...”

  The veins on his neck pulsed as he inched slowly into her. Christine moaned at the exquisite torture. She wanted to impale herself on him and ride him hard, but Scott refused to be rushed. He was so afraid of hurting her, treating her like a precious, delicate, tiny thing. Christine knew that she wasn't a tiny woman. She had meat on her bones and she had curves and stretch marks. She had breastfed Darren for six months, and her body wasn't the same as before. She'd had a baby and she had the stretch marks to prove it.

  Her body wasn't youthful, perky and perfect. But it seemed to be perfect for Scott.

  The way he looked at her made her feel so beautiful, sexy and special. He stared at her with desire and admiration, and his gaze was both scorching and tender.

  Working his cock slowly into her, Scott's eyes never left her face. Christine had never felt so intimately connected with anyone before. She gasped when he began to move. It felt so good, so amazing. Christine moaned in pleasure as he took her against the wall.

  Scott thrust deep into her, moving harder and faster. Her leg slid down and found the floor, but she was sure she wouldn't be able to stand upright if Scott wasn't supporting her. Scott slid one hand under her knee and lifted her leg to his hip. He stretched her arm up above her head and pressed her hand against the tiles, lacing their fingers tightly together.

  Their bodies moved as one, their breaths intermingling as the glass fogged up.

  With a cry, Christine shattered, her entire body shaking with the force of her climax. Scott pounded into her, wringing another explosive orgasm from her before he tensed and shuddered.

  As she felt his hot seed pump into her body, Christine came again, her channel pulsing and rippling around his cock as he kept moving in and out of her.

  Pressing his forehead against hers, Scott swallowed and held her for a long moment.

  The warm water pelted them as Scott gave her a tender, lingering kiss.

  “You are amazing, Christine,” he whispered. “So utterly, unbelievably amazing.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Scott eased Christine carefully out of his arms and sat up in bed. She mumbled but didn't wake up. Scott stared down at her beautiful face for a long while.

  They had showered together, and he had carefully washed her hair and soaped every inch of her body. As he caressed her soft curves, he had grown so hard again, and Christine's eyes had widened when she saw his cock snap to attention. She had tried to touch him, but he had grabbed her wrists to stop her.

  Make no mistake, he wanted her. He wanted to take her again on the bathroom floor, against the wall, he wanted to fuck her senseless.

  His wolf had no qualms rutting all night long. But Scott wasn't an animal. He was determined to keep a tight leash on his wolf and his lust.

  Scott knew he had to take things slow with Christine. She was human, and she'd just had the most terrifying, harrowing experience. He had saved her, and in her gratitude, she had turned to him for comfort.

  Scott brushed a strand of hair away from her face and bent down to kiss her very softly. Pulling the covers up over her shoulders, he slid out of her bed and padded over to the cot.

  Darren was fast asleep, his thumb twitching near his mouth. Scott smiled as he gazed at the sleeping infant. The boy had his mother's blond hair and rosy cheeks. Scott felt a powerful surge of emotion as he stood at the foot of the bed and looked from the little boy to his mother.

  These two humans were so precious. He would never let anything happen to them.

  His wolf let out a low growl.

  Mine.

  Scott inhaled sharply at the realization.

  Christine and Darren. They were his family.

  My mate and pup.

  They were human, but they were unmistakably, undeniably his.

  Scott walked out of the dark, silent bedroom and closed the door. He walked through the inn and examined all the doors and windows. The locks on the front and back doors were still intact and none of the windows were broken.

  But a locked door wouldn't stop a monster.

  Scowling, Scott found a broom and began to clean up the mess on the kitchen floor. After he had gotten rid of the broken plates and cups, he went to the front of the inn and righted the overturned furniture. He located a small toolbox under the sink and fixed the broken chairs and side table. When he was done, they were as good as new. There was no need for Christine to go out and spend money buying new furniture.

  Scott stood at the front steps of the inn and watched the sky lighten. The sun's rays spread across the sky, chasing away the inky darkness.

  The world was soon drenched in color once more. Scott folded his arms and leaned against the door jamb. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched the sunrise.

  Wolves Hollow was a pretty, picturesque little town. Christine and Darren had moved here, and it was clear that Christine was determined to make the inn a success and raise her son here. But was she aware of the tension and danger simmering beneath the surface of this seemingly peaceful small town?

  A part of him was glad that she had come. He might never have found her otherwise.

  But another part of him couldn't help worrying and fretting for them. Wolves Hollow was no place for a defenseless human woman with a baby.

  Some of the shifter packs and clans in Wolves Hollow were ruthless and violent. They would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and they would pick on the easy targets.

  Christine and Darren were all alone in the inn, and their nearest neighbors were miles away. They didn't have anyone they could go to for help in an emergency.

  And now that there was a brutal, savage monster preying on the small town residents, Christine and Darren were in mortal danger. Scott's blood ran cold at the thought of what would have happened if he hadn't arrived in time.

  Scott turned and went back to the inn. He would protect Christine and Darren with his life. They would never be alone again.

  They were his family.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Christine opened her eyes at the sound of Darren's cries. Her feet slapped against the floor and she was out of bed in a jiffy. She reached the cot just as her bedroom door flew open.

  Christine scooped her baby up and spun round in shock. Scott was at the door, eyes wide and looking both bewildered and anxious. “Is he okay?” Scott asked breathlessly.

  It took Christine a moment to realize that Scott was referring to Darren. “Yeah.” She nodded. “He's just hungry.”

  “What can I do?” Scott said at once.

  Christine blinked at him. She really didn't expect him to be still around. She thought that he would be long gone by morning. Wham, bam thank you ma'am.

  He had pleasured her thoroughly last night and she had fallen asleep with his arms around her. She had never slept so soundly before. But she had known that it was just for one night.

  Seeing that she was still gaping at him, Scott held out his hands and offered, “Maybe I can hold him while you get his milk ready. I don't know how to prepare a bottle.”

  “Oh,” Christine said uncertainly. “Darren isn't very good around strangers. He's rather picky...”

  Scott stepped forward and grinned at Darren. “Come here, little buddy. Who's a good boy now?”

  To Christine's surprise, Darren stopped crying at the sound of Scott's voice. The boy scooted right into Scott's arms and babbled happily.

  “See?” Scott smirked.

  Christine smiled. “You do have a way with him,” she said, impressed.

  Scott winked at her, and she felt her body tingle. The man was devastatingly handsome, and he was sweet and caring. He was wearing his torn jeans and a large old t-shirt with holes. “I found this t-shirt in one of the closets,” Scott said.

  “I think it was left behind by one of the guests,” Christine said, going to the kit
chen. “I just never threw it out...” She stopped when she saw her clean, tidy kitchen. “You...you did this,” she gasped.

  Scott shrugged. “I might have done a little light dusting and sweeping while you were sleeping.”

  “Thank you, Scott,” she said at last. “I don't know...”

  Scott came and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I should thank you instead.”

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For letting me take care of you.”

  Christine watched as Scott took a seat at the kitchen table and bounced Darren on his knee. She turned away quickly to prepare Darren's bottle. Her mind was in a whirl and there were so many thoughts and emotions warring within her.

  A faint hope was rising in her chest and she quashed it viciously. Did Scott mean what she thought he meant? Did he really want to take care of them, and be a part of their lives? Why would he want to do that? Which man would want to saddle himself with a harried single mom and a baby?

  Christine had just finished making the bottle when the doorbell chimed loudly. She jumped and almost dropped the bottle, but Scott caught it deftly in his large hand.

  “I'll come with you to see who's at the door,” Scott said. He managed to balance Darren and the milk bottle in one arm and circle her waist with his other arm.

  Darren clutched the bottle with his little hands and began to drink greedily.

  Christine unlocked the door and opened it a crack. She frowned and opened it wider.

  “There's no one...” she began before she saw a broomstick leaning against the wall.

  Scott poked his head out the door and beamed at the broomstick. “Hi, Boris.”

  “Boris?” Christine sputtered and turned her head from side to side. She could see no one at all. “Where's Boris?”

  “Standing right there,” Scott answered, waving at the broomstick.

  She stared at him worriedly. The man had fallen and knocked his head against a rock last night. Maybe that knock had affected him more than he let on?

  “That's a broomstick,” she said, frowning.

  “That's Boris,” Scott insisted. “Come on in, Boris,” he said, jerking his head.

  Christine's jaw dropped when she saw the broomstick push itself off the wall and troop into the inn on its bristles. It gave a little bow as it passed her.

  With a gulp, Christine found her tongue and remembered her manners. “W-welcome to The Happy Inn,” she managed to stammer.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Christine saw that Scott had finished feeding Darren and went to take the empty bottle from him. Scott transferred the baby onto his shoulder and began to pat the boy's back gently. “I know how to burp a baby,” he assured her. “I used to babysit the pups in our pack.”

  Christine nodded and watched the broomstick warily. Boris the broomstick was hovering at Scott's side and it seemed to be peering at the baby with great curiosity.

  Darren gave a loud burp and the broomstick jumped back. It skittered over to the corner and hid behind a cabinet.

  Scott chuckled just as a little old lady came scrambling into the inn. The old lady's pointed hat sat askew on her head, and she had a basket on one arm and a black cloak draped over the other arm.

  “Hello, Yaya,” Scott said brightly. “Are you looking for Boris?”

  “Yes!” Yaya huffed. “Boris has been a very naughty broom today! I saw this new cloak in the store window and I told him to wait for me while I went to try it on, but he zipped off and left me to walk the rest of the way! Hmph!”

  Scott gave Boris a commiserating look over his shoulder.

  Boris raised his bristles to point at Yaya, the cloak on her arm and the watch on Scott's wrist. It was clear, even to Christine, what Boris was saying. Yaya took a long time in the fitting room.

  Christine couldn't hide her smile as Yaya came up to her and handed her the basket. “Here,” Yaya said. “I baked you a pie.”

  Christine opened the basket and saw a lovely pie inside. “Thank you,” she said. “That's very kind of you.”

  Scott narrowed his eyes and stared at the pie suspiciously. “What kind of pie is it?”

  Yaya had taken off her hat and was trying to smooth her wiry, silver hair down. But her hair, like her broom, appeared to have a will of its own. Finally, Yaya gave up and simply jammed her hat back on the top of her head.

  “Gimme the pie,” Scott whispered urgently to Christine.

  “Why?”

  Scott winced. “I remember Yaya saying that lizard leg and bat wing pie is her favorite pie in the whole world.”

  Christine paled. “Ah...”

  Yaya gave Scott a look. “It's apple pie,” she said haughtily and turned to Christine. “I've been meaning to drop by and introduce myself. I'm Yaya, and that...” She pointed to her broomstick. “...is Boris.”

  “I'm Christine Reyes. That is my son, Darren,” Christine answered.

  Yaya snapped her fingers but Boris ignored her and continued following Scott around. Yaya rolled her eyes and said, “Most witches don't have that much trouble with their broomsticks.”

  Christine opened her mouth to protest when Scott put Darren down on the floor. “It's okay,” Yaya said, patting her arm. “Boris doesn't bite.”

  Momentarily forgetting what she was about to say, Christine watched in amazement as Boris rolled over on the floor and allowed Darren to tug at his bristles and yank his handle. Darren squealed and giggled as he played with Boris, happily crawling after the broomstick. The boy shrieked with excitement and laughter when Boris turned around and began to chase him around the room.

  Scott hovered nearby, ready to scoop the boy into his arms if things got out of hand.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee, Yaya?” Christine asked. “We can all have some coffee and apple pie.”

  “That sounds great,” Yaya beamed.

  Scott carried Darren into the kitchen and put him in his highchair. By the time Christine finished making three big cups of coffee, Scott had settled Darren down with a teething biscuit and filled his sippy cup with juice.

  Christine stared at Scott for a moment. He seemed to know just what to do with Darren. He was a natural dad.

  “Do you...do you have kids?” Christine blurted out.

  “Me?” Yaya and Scott said in unison.

  Christine swallowed, her eyes on Scott.

  “No,” Yaya and Scott said together.

  Christine let out the breath she had been holding. Seeing the quizzical look on Scott's face, she said quickly, “It's just that you're so great with Darren. I thought...maybe...” Maybe you're married with a dozen kids, and I just slept with someone else's man!

  Scott's handsome face split in a grin. “He's a great kid, very well-behaved,” Scott said, ruffling Darren's hair affectionately. “He's awesome, like his mom!”

  Christine blushed. Yaya didn't seem to be paying attention to their conversation. The witch was busy digging into her large slice of apple pie.

  “So—” Yaya spoke with her mouth full. “Did anyone happen to see anything strange around here last night?” Her tone was casual but Christine saw that the witch's eyes were shrewd and knowing.

  A chill raced down Christine's spine.

  She knows, Christine thought. She knows about the monster.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Scott glared at Yaya as Christine's fork clattered noisily to the table. “Sorry,” Christine stammered, picking up her fork with trembling fingers. Her eyes flew from Yaya to Scott, and Scott saw that the color had drained from her face. She was remembering that horrific attack last night.

  There was a look of pain and fear on Christine's face as she focused on her son. The boy seemed to have forgotten the harrowing episode but Christine remembered every detail vividly. She hurriedly pushed her hands under the table and pressed them to her lap, hoping that no one would notice how badly they were shaking. But Yaya noticed.

  Scott saw the witch's sharp, bright eyes take in everything as she watched Scot
t, Christine and Darren with interest. Darren was trying to feed Boris some crumbs. The boy would scatter the crumbs on the floor and laugh when Boris scurried over to sweep up the crumbs. But instead of sweeping the crumbs into the dustpan at the corner, Boris simply pounced on the crumbs and did a happy dance. The crumbs never reappeared. They miraculously disappeared under Boris's flexible, moving bristles.

  “Boom,” Darren squealed delightedly, smearing one half of his baby biscuit all over his face and waving the other half at Boris.

  “Broom,” Christine corrected immediately.

  Darren grunted and screwed up his face. Christine pushed back from the table and went to lift the boy up from his highchair.

  Scott puffed out his cheeks when he caught a whiff of the boy's filled diaper.

  “I have to change him,” Christine said. “He did a big one.”

  “Take your time,” Yaya said, waving a fork. “We'll occupy ourselves with pie and idle talk about the weather.”

  Christine eyed Scott and Yaya suspiciously as she hurried out of the kitchen with Darren.

  Once he was sure that Christine was out of earshot, Scott leaned forward and said, “Have you seen it?”

  Yaya sipped her coffee and watched him over the rim of her cup. “Have you seen it?” she countered.

  “Yes!” he hissed. “The monster attacked Christine and Darren last night! It was here, right here, in her inn! But you know that already, don't you, Yaya?”

  The old witch didn't deny it.

  “How?” Scott demanded.

  Yaya put down her cup slowly and said, “I have friends in high places, low places and everywhere in between. The witches in the other towns told me about the attacks. They warned me that this man-eating creature was coming my way, towards Wolves Hollow.”

  “Have they seen it? Do they know what it is?”

  Yaya shook her head. “As far as they could tell, it's not a shifter.”

  “No,” Scott said tersely. “Rogue shifters might kill humans, but they won't eat them.”