The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

DRAVEN

I wake up not really knowing where I am. The bed beneath me is so soft I honestly wonder if I might be asleep at all. Maybe I’m not asleep, maybe I am dead and in heaven.

But then the doorbell rings.

Did I have plans this morning? I think I did. I’m almost sure I did…but what?

I open my eyes. “Shit! What time is it?!”

The doorbell sounds again, and I fall out of bed reaching for the things I wore yesterday. “Fuck! I’m coming! Hold the hell on!”

Stumbling down the stairs in my dirty clothes, I flip the switch allowing the shades to reveal the heavy fog of morning crowding the yard. The sight brings a contented smile to my face.

Wow…it really is beautiful here.

Ding dong!!!!

“Jesus!” I screech, opening the door. “The fuck is your deal?”

He stands there looking sexy as hell, the hint of a smile on his face. “I told you nine a.m. sharp.”

Domonic.

Of course. I forgot all about the breakfast appointment.

late,” I tell him smoothly, rubbing the

“You are late. It’s ten in the morning. There’s an alarm clock on your nightstand. Use

notice how crisp and fuckable he looks in white sweats and a

I want to put my mouth on each

then… his perfume wafts toward

I can smell her all

I can’t explain why, nor do

a few more minutes laughing because,

eyes narrow and his smile disappears. “You got

to shut the door in his face is thwarted by a bright white

you we were going to have breakfast,

a sweet saccharine grin.”No. We’re not. Have breakfast with Margo

amusment. A half smile quirking up as he wets his lips. “Margo

yeah? Did

him a sarcastic frown. His face looks so frighteneed for

chortle, cocking my head at him warily. Then with a roll of my eyes, I

questions get stupid answers,

ticks his jaw, casting his eyes

I quip at him and slanting my

if someone might jump in and save him from my wrath. “I was going to but I-,” he stops, crossing his arms over his chest and idadvertanlty making his pectorals more prominently visible. His

flashing him my cockiest smile. “And I do not have to have breakfast with you.” I attempt to close the door, but he pushes inside, and I throw my hands up in frustration. “Really?” I snap, stomping my foot in annoyance. “You’re just going to push yourself

with perverse pleasure. “You’re jealous,” he accuses, rotating his shoulders and sizing me up as

not jealous. I just don’t like you or your bitch. I never intended to come to breakfast,” I lie. I was going to, but now that I know she

if he doesn’t know what else to say. They finally fall on me and he swallows thickly. “I

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