The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Three

DOMONIC

There is something disturbingly wrong withtoday and although | don’t want to admit it, | know what it is.

The girl. Not the one presently kneeling in front ofas she expertly sucks my dick.

But the one from this afternoon. The one from the bar.

Draven.

An image of her long black hair and bright green eyes fills my vision and suddenly, my chest is aching again. The

way she looked at- the pleading in her gaze, then the disappointment in her eyes when I told her she had to

leave - hashaunted. Leavingwith a burn in my chest that feels like my heart might explode.

I'm done with this bitch in front of me. Try as | might, I'm just not into her anymore. | guess | never really was.

But now, since meeting Draven, | can’t even pretend to be.

First, Margo looks nothing like Draven, and suddenly, that fiery girl that | just sent out on the train is the only

woman | want on my dick.

Fuck!

“Get up,” | hiss, and she smiles. Lifting off her knees and reaching for my neck. | shake her off, “No. Don’t touch

me. I'm not in the mood.”

She jerks back, her blond hair swinging with her breasts as she shakes her head at me. “What is the matter with

you baby? You've been acting funny all day.”

| roll my eyes and head for my bathroom to clean her mouth off my cock. “It’s nothing,” | say, rubbing at my

chest and the bruising ache there.

It’s not nothing. But it will be soon enough.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I'm ashamed. I'm probably never gonna see her again. That girl. I'll never know

any more about her than | did today. | won't get to feel that pull | felt earlier either. The way every hair on my

body stood up when she entered the bar and the wolf inside ofpurred as the world fell away at my feet.

When | was growing up, my mother always toldthat one day she would find me... my mate. Mom said that

when it happened no one else would matter for me, but her. Then mom would pretend to be jealous of the

imaginary human just to holdin her arms and makepromise to never to grow up. | guess | never believed

it could really happen.

But it did today.

Relax. She's gone. It will get easier.

It had better.

“Hey Dom! | was talking to you,” Margo snaps, stepping into the reflection of my mirror, her large breasts still

unbound and heaving with sexual energy. “I want you inside me. Please?” She reached forand | grab her

hands in mine, forcing a smile on my face.

“Later,” | say, then | zip up my pants and step around her. “Take a shower. Let's head to the bar. | need to talk to

Bartlett about a few things.”

She pouts, her thin lips flattening out in a way she thinks is sexy. “Really?”

“Now,” | snap before heading down the stairs.

Maybe if | see for myself that Draven is gone, this fucking ache in my chest might go away.

Then again... it might just get worse.

DRAVEN

My first evening as a ‘sexy bartender’ was due to start any minute. After a quick and pleasant tour of the

establishment as well as the apartment above it, Bart leftto prepare for the night ahead.

I only had a few items in my backpack, so settling in took all of ten minutes. Once | was freshly showered, |

brushed the tangles out of my long black hair and decided to leave it down to sway past my ass. It fell straight

and shiny without even the possibility of curl, but | usually wore it braided and wrapped into a tight bun. A habit |

developed to keep it from being easily grabbed. Now that | was free, | could wear it any way | wanted to, and

that fact alone was enough to put a satisfied smile on my face.

Donning a pair of distressed jeans and a tight long-sleeved black turtleneck, much like the white one I arrived in,

| smile at my reflection. Despite the bags under my sparkling green gaze and the concave appearance of my ‘too

slim” waist, | look pretty damn good. | haven't eaten in days so after a few good meals, I'll be even hotter.

After applying sshimmering nude lip gloss to my naturally pouty lips and a two-brush coating of mascara

over my long lashes, | am ready for work.

Tumbling down the back stairs with a spring in my step, | enter the kitchen to find Bart standing there with a tiny

purple crop top in hand. The front of it reads ‘The Moonlight Lounge’ in the very slettering as the sign out

front, but in black.

He wantsto wear that tiny thing, | just know it.

Before he can hand it to me, his mouth falls open in shock and he whistles. “Damn girl. You clean up nice.”

| blush, “Thanks. Um - I'm guessing you wantto wear that.” | grimace, my teeth flashing with a tight open

mouthed frown.

Bart grins, eyeingsuggestively. “Yup.”

| begin to fiddle with the tips of my hair, as is my habit sometimes when | get nervous. “Can it wait until, say a

week from now?”

His smile falters. “I would prefer it didn’t, but | suppose it could. Any particular reason why? | think it'll look great

on you.”

Then, it is as if he takes note of the turtleneck I'm wearing and the nervousness in my eyes. “Letsee,” he

requests.

| shake my head tightly but relent when he just stands there staring atand refusing to move. Rolling up the

sleeve of one arm, | showed him the latest of the fingerprint bruises that color my forearm.

Sucking in a sharp hissing breath, his face goes momentarily red with anger. “I'm guessing that’s not the worst

one.”

“It's not,” | admit, pulling my shirt up to just below my breasts and turning around. | allow him a moment to view

the ones on my back as well.

“Holy fucking shit,” he bellows. “Your stepfather did that to you?”

| turn back around, smoothing my top back into place. “He did.” Then deciding a bit more honesty can only help

secure my place here, | add, “And his son did too.”

The truth is always hard to get out.

“His son?” Bart growls out. “how fucking old is the little bastard?”

“My age.”

At that point, | know, I've just solidified my position here and the situation being what it is - refused to allow my

using my trauma to gain sympathy, to makefeel bad.

If anything | deserve to use it for whatever the fuck I can!

Bart was fairly shaking with rage and as he has only just met me, | didn’t exactly understand the strength behind

it. He looks ready to kill.

Maybe he has a thing for me.

“When you askedwhere the strip club was-"

“I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty,” | sigh. Haha - well maybe | was... “I really would have gone there to

apply. Just not right away. Can | wear the top over this, just until-"

“Of course,” he interrupts, tossing the shirt atso that | can pull it over my head. “And Draven, if you ever

want to talk about it...”

| smile, nodding. But | know | never will. “Thanks, Bart.”

“Bartlett,” he corrects me.

“Bart,” | wink, swaying my hips as | saunter past him into the bar proper.

The first couple hours go

swimmingly well. | used to work at a

club on Beach Avenue in Miami qd

the bartenders therdlviele Gildly

cBirpeihe so | know how to draw

: ,

in a crowd. It doesn't hurt that the

place is packed with eligible young

men as well. All of them vying for the

attention of the new treat behind the

bar. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

| am in the middle of sloshing together a Moscow Mule for a hot brunette in a business suit, when the doors to

the bar open and a tall, blond ‘barbie’ enters on the arm of the prick from this afternoon.

Domonic.

His eyes catch mine immediately and

the air seems to sizzle between us. A

hot spark Creasy tggesow a

speqrOdpOISin y stirring stick.

i _ .

atching Barbie's hand glide over

0-0 0

Domonic’s chest, | groan and switch

3 3 3 ,

out my stick, just glad | didn't cut my

hand. The content is on

novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

Bitch.

| shake myself, knowing the absurd thought has nothing to do with the girl and everything to do with her date.

Screw that handsson-of-a-bitch.

But for sreason, | can’t squelch the ache in my chest that throbs upon my first sight of them together.

“Here you go honey,” | say, serving Mister Hottie in the three-piece suit and accepting the twenty-dollar tip

complete with a phone number that he slips inside my palm.

Glancing back up, | see that Domonic and his date have taken a seat in the back corner. The stable he and

his friends had been at earlier today.

Noticinglooking at him, his fists

clench on the table and his muscles

flex beneath his hist Barbie buts

sgmetinginto His ear, and he

shoves her off of him, snapping

: ,

something at her that | can't hear

over the noise of the crowded bar.

I clamp my lips together, hiding a smile and looking away to serve, yet another, hottie in a three-piece suit.

| have to wonder, does Barbie work at his club? She definitely fit the type. | have a pretty nice set up top, but

they're not nearly as back breaking as hers are.

Maybe that’s what he meant when he said | ‘don’t have what it takes’.

A line was starting to form behind the patrons seated at the bar, so | shed all thoughts of Domonic for the next

few minutes and concentrated on my job.

Bart slides up behindand whispers, “You're doing aweskiddo. Keep it up.”

| laugh, glaring back at him. “Kiddo? You can’t be too much older than me, Bart.”

He winks, “I'm probably not, but if you insist on butchering my nthe way you do, | will insist on calling you

kiddo.”

“Deal,” | grin, losing my smile when I see who is next in line. “What can | get ya?”

“You seem to have missed your train,” Domonic says coldly.