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.

smoothly, rubbing the

are late. It’s ten in

and trying not to notice how crisp and fuckable he looks in white sweats and a stark white tank

I want to put my mouth on each and every

toward me and I nearly

smell

why, nor do I have the right to

roll around for a few more minutes laughing because, I got what I wanted and then

eyes narrow and his smile disappears. “You got what you wanted. Which

scoff. “Not you. So, bye!” My attempt to shut the door in his face

you we were going to have breakfast, and we

saccharine grin.”No. We’re not.

A half smile

yeah? Did

He startles as I throw him a sarcastic frown. His face looks so frighteneed for a second that

cocking my head at him warily. Then with a roll of my eyes, I say, “When did she leave?

questions get stupid answers,

his jaw, casting his eyes downward as if ashamed. “This

her home, last night,” I quip at him and slanting

but I-,” he stops, crossing his arms over his chest and idadvertanlty making his pectorals more

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 inside? You see? This is why I want to pay rent! So that I don’t have to let you in here and I don’t have to be nice to you.” I grant him

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

dropping myself down on the couch with a laugh. “No. I’m not jealous. I just don’t like you or your bitch. I never intended to come to breakfast,”

doesn’t know what else

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