The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Thirty–Seven

ROSE

“I thought I heard you screaming for me. I thought… I heard you call my name.” Bartlett’s silhouette beyond the distorted glass grows larger as he steps closer to the doors.

Did ? Oh God I hope not!

Think fast, Bose, think, think think

“Rose, are you alright in there?” His deep voice sounds somewhat strained and I have to wonder how much of me he can actually see. I’m sure it’s enough for him to make out the thickness of my figure at the very least. Now he might even agree with what Delilah said about me before she left. “Rose?”

“Um…..L… I’m fine I just–1-” Fuck! What can I say? The scars?!–1 just panicked for a moment. I realized… I–I don’t have any injuries. None.”

I watch his body jerk back a bit before he lifts an obscured arm upward and appears to run his fingers through his hair. “Oh. Right,” he replies, sounding more than a little sketchy. “Is that a bad thing?”

I move toward the shower door, needing for some reason to see his face. Wanting desperately to gage his reaction to my standing here naked. When I get to the garbled glass entrance I’m relieved to see that it’s still too difficult to make out any of his details beyond the glass. This should mean that he can’t make out any of my details either. Taking a deep breath, I pull the damn thing open just enough for me to peer out, while leaving the rest of myself warped behind the slivers of rain glass.

What the h

hell am I doing? Am I crazy?

The click of the door opening seems to surprise him, though he’s looking dead at me when I peek out. The sapphires of his eyes warble, their black centers stretching like a pair of obsidian mirrors. He sucks in a sharp breath as his gaze twitches downward and left, locking on something behind the glass right around where my chest should be. Just the thought of him staring at my boobs has my nipples hardening and my core throbbing again. Almost too naturally for me to notice, one of Bartlett’s hands slides toward the front of his jeans to adjust himself and my own eyes follow this path, dropping away from his face then bulging once I see how absolutely thick he is behind his zipper. When his gaze shoots upward again, he is hesitant, his attention darting back down at least two more times before he shuts his eyes completely.

“Uh…maybe I shouldn’t have come in here,” he murmurs, his fists balling at his sides. “Would you like a towel?”

A real, genuine smile one that I cannot control – rips across my face at his obvious discomfort. My cheeks heat tremendously, watching In wonder as his seat grows more and more prominent, punching against his jeans,

“Yes please,” I answer, biting back my excitement as I realize I may be having my very first, very real adult crush. Fuck that. I na definitely having…

A muscle ticks behind his beard, clenches and unclenches, much like my sex is doing, “O–okay,” he stammers firally, turning toward a shelf on his left and snatching a fluffy black towel. He shifts on his feet, the exposed muscles of his arms flexing before he spins my way and thrusts the damn thing at my face. “Here you go,” he says huskily, as I open the door just enough to slip my hand out.

Thank you, Bartlett, I simper. His eyes are still closed and when my hand grazes his to grab the towel, sparks of heat curl my fingers around his hand involuntarily.

With a gasp of surprise, I yank the towel from him and his eyelids flutter just barely. Confident that he’ll remain that way until I’m covered up, I pull the door all the way out and wrap myself as swiftly as I’m able, tucking the corner of the towel in between my breasts. When I look up again his eyes are open to half most and I jolt backward in what would be the most classically stupid move ever, because that’s right – I slip.

A yelp of surprise hurdles from my mouth and into the air as I go toppling forward, my eyes clamping shut as my hands shoot out to

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Two Hundred Thirty–Seven

hit the ground. Instead, it’s as if I’m whisked off my feet and spun into the air, bouncing into a pair

he crushes me more tightly against his chest. Now I can’t move except to breathe and a whimper of need trembles past my lips. One of my hands grips his

lesias, that feels

slowly dance down my neck then rest on the shuddering heave of my bosom. He stares for a long moment and I think I hear him curse, but it’s so

it? Is this how he carried me away from my doom?

my face into

you’re welcome,” he rumbles out, “Feel free to bite me if you need to,” he whispers, exiting the

I laugh into his shirt, I

of his fingers across the flesh of my leg. A chill rides over me as he steps back toward the bed.

hear me. Maybe I did call out

name, but my moans of pleasure. I’d hoped the tremendous beat of the shower would disguise any sound beyond those walls, but in truth there was no way for me to know that. It could be that the walls are paper thin and the

shit. Why am

my attention

I can see

easily read in my eyes.

down, please,” I snap, wincing when I hear the harshness of my

tremor in his chest grewing stronger with my

his jaw going tight

face blanching. He heard me, he definitely heard

“Embarrassed that

okay, I don’t mind catching you. And … I like holding you,” he says so softly that my only response is a breathless little moan. His eyelids lower at the sound, his head dipping downward, almost as if he might kiss me. I tremble in his hold, my gaze going toward his lips as

The sound has me gasping in surprise as my clit pulses to life and wetness leaks from my core.

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this.. I

is it, my very first kiss.

my only

clothes. My entire body aches from the loss of his touch and

I feel…