The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Forty

ROSE

Tad Bartlett let me go if I tell him I want to go home?

Footsteps sound behind me and somehow I just know it’s Bartlett. My face heats and for a moment I wonder if he’s going

going to hold my hand or something. The thought is more than a little exhilarating. Grow up Rose. Really? Hold hands?

Rolling my

my eyes at myself, I take a couple deep breaths and try to look cool. I don’t even get to turn around before I’m being whisked back into his arms,

Okay. So I go back later. I want to spend a little time getting to know Bartlett.

He’s cradling me again – bridal style – but this time there is something different in his eyes. Something is off about him. He looks disappointed as he stares down at me. Almost… angry.

I immediately retreat into my shell. All my earlier excitement fizzling out with the glacial cold of his eyes.

He studies me quietly while walking us toward the end of the docks where a mini yacht and a speedboat bob side by side. He says nothing to me as he places me on my feet and makes his way toward the yacht.

My eyes widen when I realize this is the one that we’ll be riding. “Are we taking this?” I ask, my voice full of wonder.

He doesn’t answer me for some reason and I instantly feel a little less excited. Now this makes more sense. This is the kind of treatment that I’m used to. But even so, I can’t stop the burn that fires across my chest, nor the tears that fill my eyes.

I did hope things might be different this time around.

“Hey B, are you heading out?” A voice sounds at my back. I’m still standing on the wharf, but Barlett is inside of the yacht lowering the ladder.

Bartlett’s eyes rove over me. Worry taking over his features as he spies whomever it is that must be behind me. When I spin around, I understand why and my entire body goes cold.

It’s one of the Sheriff’s Deputies. Oh my fucken goodness.

The man’s cinnamon brown eyes lock on me for a cool minute, the spiral curls of his ash brown hair wavering in the breeze coming off the ocean. A slow smile curves his lips upward as he appraises me from head to toe. “Well, hello there gorgeous. Who might you be?”

“She’s my girl,” Bartlett says, leaping over the side of the yacht and bypassing the stairs altogether. The wood planks beneath my feet shudder and quake when he lands next to me and I tumble into his side, my face already red hot just from what he told the deputy.

His lie should please but it doesn’t. Because, as good as it is to hear something like that come out of his mouth – it will never be the truth and suddenly it is all that I want. To be his.

My head is suddenly swimming, my vision dizzy with desire as my eyes fall on him. Tilting my head upward, I meet his eyes. My lips purse in disappointment, my chest heaving erratically at the boldness of his. He’s just fixed us with that statement.

my shoulders, Bartlett says, “Head on up, Princess. I’ll

glance. Okay, so maybe I’m not ready to bite the

the stairs and on the yacht, I’m feeling like a girl that just rely managed to escape the fire. Walking gingerly toward the helm, I peek down at the wharf to watch the pair of them talking. They seem to know each other quite

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I could swear that they don’t notice me. That they are oblivious to my standing here spying on

watch him

there? he

jerks backward in surprise, his sudden presence snapping me to attention and causing me to yelp with fear. Turning around to face him, I find that he is already directly behind me and I shove backward futilely, not gaining even an inch of

I

just bet I did,” he snarls, stepping back as his handsome face twists up in a sneer. He shakes his head, his eyes lowering toward the deck. “His name is Timmons. Just in

toward him, watching the drag of his eyes as they stroke up my body with something like reluctant heat. “Did he ask about me?? 1 inquire softly, biting my

scowls, raising his gaze

from my breasts to my face. You damn fucking well know

afterward. When I came up here, I saw you both talking like old friends and I was

right there.”

single,” Bartlett shops, turning away to pull the lever that

way. You have got to be kidding me. “I don’t care if he’s single,” Ihiss, following him. “That is not what I was asking! I

the other on the keys. “Right,” he sighs. “I forgot about that part for a

reason you

softly. “So then, since you forgot, I’m going to assume the answer is no.

ground with my eyes closed and a scream of surprise on my lips. Once again – before my ass can even touch the ground- he manages to snatch me to safety. Locking his hand over one arm of mine, Bartlett snaps my body

Oh…my…yummy.

up grabbing his enormous biceps, dropping my hands downward my nails go into the hard marble of his deliciously flexed forearms and my breasts press roughly against

I stutter, as I begin

and I can’t stop the rush of liquid that pools at my core, nor do I want to. What I want… is for him to touch me again.. the way he touched

moan.

he hears it, his sapphire eyes sparkle, the pupils expanding impossibly

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walk all the way to his car? That’s why you waited for him to leave? Because

his eyes flare bright with approval, his hands on my ass now growing holder

never been an easy thing for me to do, so this time I remind myself of how good it feels when he touches me. This time, I tell myself that he wouldn’t be touching me if he didn’t want to, and I force my hands to glide up the skin of his forearms, lowering my lashes just enough to shield me from the

tell him, your old friend, that I was your girl?” I ask carefully. This is the type of question that has