Read Goal: A Mate (Bachelor Auction #2) Online
Authors: Selena Illyria
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Multicultural, #Paranormal, #Sports, #Multicultural & Interracial, #Werewolves & Shifters, #sports romance, #Werewolves, #paranormal erotic romance
Goal: A Mate (Bachelor Auction #2)
Table of Contents
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For Dragon Ugly
“The sparks fly from the moment they meet and grow into an intense love. Not only did I enjoy meeting Brent and Carissa but the rest of the characters endeared themselves to me as well. I really enjoyed my visit to this world and hope to return again soon.”
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Dragon New Year
Dragon Ugly
Dragons at Midnight
“Dragons at Samhain” Halloween Heat II
Bachelor Auction
Mate Not Wanted
Goal: A Mate
At Drogan’s Command
Renny’s Mate
Seven Sins Inn: Pietro & Callisto
Fallen Lovers: Roman
Carnevale and Subterfuge
Bewitching the Vampire
Making Demons Purr
In Print
“Dragons at Samhain” Halloween Heat II
Renny’s Mate (Beach Bums Anthology)
Seven Sins Inn: Pietro & Callisto (Demon Heat Anthology)
The Dragon New Year Collection
Goal: A Mate
Bachelor Auction Book Two
Selena Illyria
Copyright Warning
EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (
http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/
).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By
Etopia Press
136 S. Illinois Ave. Suite 212
Oak Ridge, TN 37830
Goal: A Mate
Copyright © 2015 by Selena Illyria
ISBN: 978-1-941692-61-5
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: February 2015
Chapter One
Brandon shifted from one foot to the other as he watched the shifter community’s most eligible bachelors go past the red curtain. The roar of the crowd beyond the velvet partitions filled his ears and soothed his fraying nerves. This is just like a game, he told himself. You’ve been in hostile territory before. He rubbed his hands and took in the people who had already gone before him. One of them was Pierce McKinney, owner of the new Paranormal Sports League. They hadn’t gotten to hockey yet, but he had a meeting with the Englishman later on in the month.
“Mr. Scott?” Betsey with the clipboard called out.
He strode forward. “Brandon, please.”
“Uh-huh. You’re up next. Just walk to the end of the runway, slowly please, and then stop at the end. You’ll have to wait until all the bids are counted before you can return to the waiting area.” Betsey headed away toward the next victim on her list.
“Brandon, my man, calm down. It’ll be painless. Promise.” His friend and agent, Ryan Fortunato, gripped his shoulders and kneaded the muscles.
Bursts of fire and pain rushed up and down his arm. Brandon winced and began to move out of Ryan’s hold.
“It wasn’t so bad.” Ryan gave him a big grin.
Brandon couldn’t respond. All his attention narrowed down to his the shoulder. It felt as though demons had slipped into his body and started poking the hell out of the muscle. Each press of Ryan’s fingers sent spikes lancing into his arm and down his right side. Sweat misted his brow, his ears burned, and his wolf whined long and loud in his ears.
“Shoulder,” he growled out. The predator could be heard in that single word, promising hurt and death to anyone he met.
“Shit! Sorry.” Ryan removed his hands. “Forgot. How is it, mate? What’d the doctor say?”
Some of the heat subsided and only a dull throb was left. He wiggled his fingers and found some of the feeling in them had faded. Sensation returned in pinpricks, as if the digits had been asleep.
Ryan’s words returned to him once the ache had subsided. “Doc says I have to do at least two more changes before I’m back to normal. But no more hockey.”
Sadness turned his heart into stone, a weight in his chest that hurt him with each breath he took. He’d had three months to acclimate to the news, but he was beginning to doubt it would ever truly sink in. Being on the ice was second nature to him. He missed the strategy of getting to the goal, the camaraderie in the locker room before and after the game, seeing Kelly in the stands cheering him on. Heat flooded his body, pushing back even more of the pain, until he could rotate his shoulder without wanting to tear someone’s head off.
“Good, good. Look I have to grab something to eat. Want anything?”
Brandon shook his head. If he did put something into his mouth, he’d probably just throw it back up. Butterflies flapped up a tornado in his stomach. Kelly had agreed to bid on him so that he wouldn’t end up with one of those man-hungry society women looking for her next boy toy. But what if she was outbid?
“Suit yourself.” Ryan slipped away to greet one of his other clients.
Brandon shifted from one foot to the other.
“Brandon Scott?” Betsey, guardian of the clipboard, called out.
Brandon’s looked up and spotted Betsey. He moved toward her, dodging around other participants of the auction.
“Stand there and wait until the curtains part before you’re announced.”
Brandon went to his assigned place. Moisture carved a path from his temple to his jaw. He reached up, wiped it away, and glanced down at his sleeve. Golden tan powder marred the perfect charcoal gray pinstripe suit jacket. He winced and glanced around. No one was paying him any mind. He rubbed the makeup on his pants. The smear was gone, but now there was a light spot on one of his legs. “Crap.” With furious motion, he patted the spot away. Why the fuck did they have to put this clown makeup on him?
“Please welcome Brandon Scott to the stages, ladies!” the announcer called through the curtain.
Shit! He did a quick check and found nothing out of place, then parted the panes of velvet and walked out into a sea of flashing lights. He lifted his arm and tried to shield his eyes.
“Oh, look at that. He’s shy! Come on. Scream for him! Show him he’s welcome, ladies!”
Screams and catcalls roared in his ears. A hand took his and jerked him forward. Sweat doused his face as the lights on the runway threatened to sear him.
“Come on. Now, I’m sure Brandon wishes to be on the ice more than in the heat of the spotlight, but he’s here with us now. This sexy hockey player is thirty years old and loves to work with children and do community work. Oh, and ladies? He loves gardening in the
nude
!”
What the fuck? Who gave her that shit to say? Brandon opened his mouth to rebuke her but was cut off by a woman’s shout. “I bid one thousand dollars!”
Wha—? A thousand smackers? Well, now. Brandon’s blood surged and his confidence perked. He pulled his hand out of the announcer’s grasp and strutted down the walkway.
“You’re a fucking peacock
,
”
his werewolf growled.
He ignored the rebuke and continued on until he reached the end. His gaze swept over the crowd until he found Kelly in the crowd. She looked like a luscious dream in a red, strapless dress. The flawless mocha skin of her arms and shoulders was on display. The neckline dipped a little, giving him only a hint of cleavage.
Brandon’s libido roared to life. A fever wound around his veins, seeping into his body, and his cock thickened and pressed against his pant leg.
“Well, would you look at that? Lil Brandon has made an appearance,” the announcer said.
Brandon groaned but continued to focus on Kelly. Her chest moved up and down in enticing ways. Appreciative murmurs hummed around him.
“Well, we just got a peek of what you could see if you were to check in on him gardening. I see twenty-five hundred dollars from Blanca of the Bitter Almonds pack… And she looks very eager!”
Kelly licked her bottom lip, causing the red gloss to glisten even more. She raised her arm and shouted, “Three thousand dollars!”
“Oh, looks like we could get a pack princess fight,” the announcer purred.
“Four thousand dollars and a night he’ll never forget.” Blanca’s throaty purr could be heard above the rumble of the crowd.
“Tacky as usual! Five thousand dollars!” Kelly snarled.
Brandon’s heart hammered in his chest as he waited for Blanca to respond. He sent up a silent prayer that the gods wouldn’t be so cruel as to subject him to a date with Blanca the Boorish. He didn’t take his gaze off of Kelly as his ears prickled and his wolf strained to hear what the announcer would say next.