Beta Stone

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Chapter 6

Only one voice was heard on the drive back to Titanium, and it was the rain. The thought of the mates was as erratic and arrogant as the sound.

Sol drove, guessing that it was best if Karen stayed with Stone. He parked the car and then turned to the passengers with a loaded cough. “Karen, I'll go home and talk to Adrian since I imagine you want to rest. Will you be okay here? My place is right around the corner.”

Karen nodded, pushing her wet hair behind her ear in an attempt to seek composure. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Sol smiled at her softly before giving a supportive slap to Stone’s shoulder and locking the mates in a jail of silence. Awkwardness and tension strangled the air. Feeling claustrophobia bite his flesh, Stone stepped out of the car. Karen watched him close the door before opening hers. As he stood there, drenched by the rain, his magnificence screamed. He was the tallest man she had ever seen, decorated with hard muscles that countered the softness of his eyes.

My castle of testosterone.

“Karen,” he grumbled.

Remembering her position, she stepped out of the car and stood with all the inches she had to offer. There wasn’t much to her vertically when compared to Stone. She was five feet nine inches, an atom compared to the universe of man standing before her.

Stone led her around the house. He dug into his jeans and picked out his keys. He then pushed the door aside for her, wanting her out of the rain.

Karen gave him a fleeting glance before walking under his arm and into his house. Lights automatically flickered on, exposing the simple living room. It had all she expected from a bachelor– black furniture, flatscreen TV, and not a single portrait hanging on the walls.

Stone closed the door, kicking out the chilly wind. As soon as it was gone, heat took the spotlight and invaded every inch of his body. While Karen studied his house, he dragged his eyes down her scandalously transparent shirt. Drops of water shimmied down her whiskey-colored hair and skin, making his fingertips sizzle with jealousy.

She was a hell of a woman. Thick thighs designed to mount his hips filled her jeans, swollen breasts made to cushion his hands decorated her chest, and her generous ass– it belonged on his face.

His nervousness arose along with his cock, which saluted to no woman except Karen.

“Can I have a towel?”

She sounded cautious, and he didn’t blame her. They were mates by title but barely knew each other. After kicking his shoes off, he walked into the nearest bathroom and returned with a load of towels. He disappeared a second time to change his wet clothing and mop the puddles they had made. Karen waited on his massive couch, catching glimpses of him as he walked around.

“I don’t have women’s clothing,” he said as he appraised her shorter frame for the umpteenth time. “You can use this if you’d like.” He extended a black shirt to her, which would definitely fit like a gown. She accepted it and then waited for him to guide her to the bathroom.

“Oh, right,” he muttered before leading the way. His eyes jumped to every corner of his house, making sure everything was in order.

Karen vanished behind the bathroom door, immediately noticing the single red toothbrush that was slanted in a cup. The shower curtain was another thing that grabbed her attention. It was completely see-through, teasing her.

She shuddered from both the cold and her audacious imagination.

She left her wet clothes on the sink and hopped into the shower, glancing at the door as she turned it on. It was unlocked, and that fact both terrified and thrilled her. Stone could walk in and…

What did he think of her body? Did he worry what others would think of them as well? Did he prefer slimmer women that didn't grab as much attention?

She was out of the shower minutes later. Stone’s shirt didn’t disappoint her expectations. It brushed her knees, covering everything except the curves of her breasts and hips. She was given no option but to toss a towel over her shoulders to conceal her friendly assets.

When she rounded the corner, Stone threw his attention to her. Her hair was still wet, and the rest of her was embraced by his navy blue towel. She glanced at his three couches with question, wondering how far from him she wanted to sit.

She chose the one across from him.

“Why are you here?”

The question left Stone’s lips before her butt touched the cushion. His curiosity had flown past its restraints, and it was out for answers.

Karen’s eyes flicked down to the tulips on his glass coffee table.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she exhaled.

Seething, ferocious, all-consuming sadness burned him. He hadn’t cried since he was a teenage boy, and he found himself reminiscing the relief that it provided. He was stuffed with anger and frustration, flipping from one to another with every breath that he took. His mate was finally here; his loneliness had met its end, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to be told why she had incarcerated him to a two-year sentence of rejection.

He wanted to find out why people kept leaving.

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