The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

The Pack: Rule Number 1 – No Mates

Chapter Three Hundred Two

ANASTACIA

The phone in my hand suddenly rings and my eyebrows arch upward hightily. Paul’s jaw clenches on the end of a hiss, his hands white knuckling over the steering wheel as he releases a frustrated growl of defeat.

With a satisfied smirk, I press the answer button without looking at the name. Paul’s eye flare bright with anger, but he makes no move to stop me, so I proceed.

Good boy. I would have fucking killed you.

Without taking my eyes off of him I say, “Hello, Pretty Paul’s answering service, Bitch speaking. How can I help you?”

Paul’s head jerks back in confusion, but as we’ve just reached the ferryman, he says nothing, turning his attention instead to the man at the booth to purchase passage.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” A female’s voice shrieks over the line and my neck instantly snaps to attention. “Let me speak to Paul.”

The voice is vaguely familiar and when I search my memory for a face the whopping two of them that I have stored in my brain – the one my mind settles on is not one I’d prefer it to be. Not that either of them is really an option, but still. Pulling the phone away from my ear for a moment, I check the screen for a name just in case. There’s only a number on display, no name. A local area code of course. Kentucky Derby kind of local I’ll bet. “He’s busy at the moment. May I ask who is calling?”

“Busy. I don’t buy that. Really?”

My hackles go up, rage swirling inside of me at the incredulous tone of the female on the other end of the line. “Yes really. Now are you going to give me a name or am I gonna die happy never knowing it, with Paul’s head between my legs and his mouth full of my clit?”

Paul chuckles, his chest shaking with laughter as the ferryman hoots his sympathy for Paul out into the open air. Paul drives the jeep onto the roll–on barge then parks, shutting off the engine before giving me his undivided attention. Leaning his head back and running a hand over his jaw in a gesture that is altogether too infuriatingly sexy, he waits.

I shoot him an unamused frown, but deep inside, I’m secretly pleased that he’s not angry with me for answering his phone like I owned the damn thing. Could he honestly have been worried that I wanted to call one of his pack mates? Does he really believe that I would do something that scandalous? That disrespectful?

Probably, Ana. He thought you were trying to charm the dick from his pants, don’t forget.

“Fuck you, bitch. There’s your name!”

Oh shit, that’s right. I forgot for a moment that I was on the phone.

Kentucky’s words bring a smile to my face and I coat my voice in sugar when I say, “Aww, how sweet of you to offer, but fucking me is Paul’s job now. Better luck next time. Byeeee!” Then I hang up and pitch the phone straight into Paul’s chest, crossing my arms in anger. “Unlock it,” I tell him. “Now.”

His laughter dies in his throat, but the smirk he’s still wearing burns a trail of heat right through me.

If he, in fact, has a girl he is hiding from me, that one is not it. Not that it would matter one way or the other. Any girl who thinks she lays claim to Paul is going to meet with seven years of bad juju and that is a promise.

need to

from him. “Someone to deflate your ego, for one, but you won’t

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hand it over.”

ego?

I’m your girl if you can’t even give me your pass code to your phone. Because if that’s the way you want things,

his locked phone as if it betrayed him. “But you are my girl. And those were your words, not mine.”

you fucking kidding me?” I snap my eyes shut against the heat that is suddenly boiling in

was your true mate. Am I lying?”

please? Can’t I just tase him a tiny little bit with

are. But if you ever call me a bitch again…” I trail off, sizing

he unlocks his phone, his eyes raising to mine with a softness that I can almost feel on my skin. “I’m sorry. You’re right. i should never have called you that. To be honest… I think I just said it because you refused to tell me who you wanted to call and…” he

“Texted you? About what? About

“Sort of… yeah.”

to get rid of me. Shit. Maybe I should go… They

things… not

if I

Chelsea, Ana. Chelsea!

mind if I

his lips are only an inch away from mine. The

to get you, Anastacia, because I’m telling you

understood?”

breath, I nod. “Yes. Understood.”

his bottom lip for a moment. “And like I said at the restaurant, you’re not my girl. you are much more than that.”

from his is difficult, but I do it. Then I dial Chelsea’s

I speaking with?” My sister asks, probably because she doesn’t recognize the number. She’s never so cordial. Not my

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Three Hundred Two

sister. No.

it’s me! Can you talk?

tells me she’s on Bonation Street, It’s her about favorite place to be, hade from the fact

would be here! My sister’s teary voice nos na through my heart and as much as I wish I had time to be gentle, I know that I

stop crying for a moment and

me handle everything with Gran and you’re not! All you give a fuck about is the