The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Three Hundred Eight

KENDALL

Fired me? Firrrreeeed meee?

For what? Falling down the stairs?

Oh no. Oh hell no!

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Shake yourself Kendall, it’s time to let this bastard have a dose.

“You can’t do that!” I snap, desperation tingling through my system and pushing to the surface. “I haven’t done a motherfucken thing wrong!” I quip, sliding out of the booth to my feet, and getting up in his face.

But Timmons isn’t looking at me, although he’s still standing exactly where he was just a moment ago, when he dropped me onto the seat, his face is turned away and his eyes are on Charlie. “You can’t date the help and manage it, Chuck. Sleeping with the employees is not allowed, and promiscuous blondes are not only bad for business, but they carry disease.”

What. The. Fuck?

My eyes heat as they fall over this handsome bastard as if seeing him for the first time. “You should know something else about promiscuous blondes-” I hiss shoving him in the chest as I do – nevermind that he doesn’t budge “-they are also prone to violence.”

It’s almost too perfect, the way his face snaps toward me at the exact same time that my left hand goes flying for his stupid mug. I’m suddenly in that mode, you know, that fuck it mode you never seem to see coming. The one that doesn’t give you even a moment of foreplay before you hop on and ride. My hand connects with his skin and the sound cracks across the space to bounce along the walls.

It was a damn good slap.

But my hand just might be broken.

A loud shatter sounds as Charlie’s mouth drops open along with glass in his hands. Shock and fear for the next few moments of my existence shine in his eyes and a strangled, incoherent cry warbles from his mouth.

Yeah, I know.

It was nce meeting you too Charlie.

Timmons‘ eyes swirl with a glowing yellow light, firing around the orbs that coil his pupils like an electric current. The view is enough to cause me step to back in fear, especially when both of his hands shoot forward and fist in my hair. Sparks of pleasure explode across my scalp where his fingers tangle in my roots and my head tilts back. Despite my predicament, a heady moan escapes my lips, my common sense unable to override the cataclysmic fantasy of this leading somewhere other than behind bars. In the back of my mind, I’m allowed to notice how absolutely delicious his forearms look this close up, and some pathetic part of me tries to imagine he’s about to kiss me, instead of what he actually does, which is flip me around, bend me over the table, and yank my arms behind my back.

Damn it.

Now, I am going to jail…

Shit.

Timmons chuckles humorlessly, wrenching my wrists together with so much force that I cry out and drool slips from my mouth and out onto the table. From behind me, his body pressing roughly into mine. In a way that I might enjoy if we were anywhere else but here, but…we are here, and…I’m fucked,

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Hundred

words smarting as his head dips down next to

Yeah, I know.

the window, and from my vantage point on the polished wooden tabletop, I am allowed the humiliation of

of handcuffs hitting the table behind my head. However, why he has

over a chair as he gallops toward us.

yourself a different slut to stroke at night. This one for five to

be

What?!” Charlie

I hate you so much!” I whimper, the stupid fanciful girl in me finally rising to the surface as I think of all the times that I simply watched him

definitely sees

get what you wanted?

or my tears, but I hear the disbelief in Timmons voice

really imagined there wasn’t anything he could ever do to me to inspire

no one can see my tears as they gather and drop uselessly from my eyes. My heart rate is skyrocketing, pumping pain into my bloodstream like poison. My stomach turns, and

Oh fuck.

fucks outside that the bar is closed tonight,” Timmons

I feel his hand on my shoulder, stroking across my back in a soothing motion. “She’s-”

pushing up from the table, just enough to peel my forehead away from the wood and straighten my back a bit. But I keep myself pressed away from Timmons, because

“Now!

chorus of boos and whys follow as I

on my back, his gloriously chiseled arms coming around either side of me and caging me in from behind. The dude is so big that he doesn’t even have to touch me to do this. Hot breath flutters into my hair and I listen to him inhale a

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vulnerable. Even with his gaze locked

I may be imagining it. I happen to do

I’m not imagining, is the way he gently presses up against my back, lining the hot steel of his powerful frame up against the softness of my behind. Or the sudden disappointed huff he spouts out before he shakes his head and tilts his face

1. me.

face before settling on my mouth and pulsing into the black of his pupils. And me…being the loser I am…I can’t help but taste my bottom lip, drawing

Oh God!!!!

feel pulsing somewhere along the base of my

has to

and harden. At least, not that I’m aware. If I push back against him with my cutie–pa–tootie,

I will

do that, he already thinks you’re the town

smells like lemon candy.

am suddenly dying