The Pack Rule Number 1 No Mates novel Chapter 2

DRAVEN

“Right.” I nod, choking back the disappointment I so willingly set myself up for. “Thanks.”

Taking the drink in hand, I begin to sip the burning liquid. Savoring the flavor of failure before heading out into the rain. I watch Bartlett as his eyes trail behind me toward the guys in the back corner booth. A minute or two passes as I focus on finishing my drink. When I am done, not only am I feeling a bit better, but a bit braver.

“There wouldn’t happen to be a strip joint anywhere in town, would there?” I ask, handing him back his tumbler.

His hand freezes just before taking the glass. Swallowing thickly, he shrugs. “Yes, there is.”

A nearly inaudible growl sounds from somewhere in the room and I turn around, confused, scanning the place for pets.

Nope, no dogs anywhere.

I catch the stare of the man in the back booth. He’s still glaring at me, and I have to resist the urge to flip him off. Rolling my eyes, I spin back around to face Bartlett.

“Could you tell me where it is? I need to find a job as soon as possible and I don’t have a phone – so no GPS.”

“Uh-yeah. I could but-um, I don’t think that’s the right crowd for a classy gal like yourself.” He studies me carefully, tapping his fingers on the bar as if fighting with the urge to change his mind.

This is good! You know you want to help me! Come on, just say yes!

I shrug, “You have to start somewhere, right? A girls got to do what a girls got to do, even if it means dancing for chips.” Then, getting up from the barstool I wave a quick goodbye. “Sorry for the misunderstanding, if you’ll just point me in the direction of the strip club I’ll be on my way.”

He sighs again, lowering his head. “It’s just past the docks, then about half a mile west,” he says, and I nod.

Taking my first step toward the exit, I turn around and ram right into Mister Ponytail from the corner table. My hands push against his massive chest, and I shiver at the heat coming off of him.

Holy mother…

“Excuse me,” I say in a whisper, trying to step around him. But he doesn’t let me, grabbing my arm to hold me in place.

Sparks.

A tingling of awareness passes through me with his touch. My gaze freezes on his hand, a moan of pleasure tickles at the back of my throat. His grip gentles, but he doesn’t let go.

“You won’t be getting hired there either,” he says with a smirk. My eyes lift toward his. His voice is deep and rich with arrogance. “You don’t have what it takes to work there,” he says haughtily.

Cheeks flaming, I stepped back from the idiot. Shaking his hand off my elbow, I say sweetly, “Oh really? How would you know?”

He loses his smile, glowering at me with disapproval then punching one fist lightly into his palm in irritation. “Because I own it.”

He owns a stirp club? This man?!

Well of course he does. Don’t all assholes though?

“Your loss then,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest.

I know I’m not ugly. I’m actually pretty damn hot. I consider myself a ten – hell yeah I do. This stupid motherfucker should too. Not to mention that God just so happened to bless me with a fat round ass and a killer rack, thank you very much, so whatever bullshit this guy was slanging, I wasn’t buying.

Turning back around to face Bartlett, I’m met with sorrowful eyes. He feels bad about this, I can tell. So, I lay it on him. Not giving a fuck anymore.

“Look, I know it was messed up for me to lie on the application. Truth be told, I knew you wouldn’t hire me if I told you I was female. But I needed to get out of there! I was desperate.” Then, I pause, allowing the tears that threatened to spill over moments ago, to finally come. “I still am.”

Bartlett hisses with guilt, his gaze floating upward and behind me to where Mister Ponytail still stands. I can feel the heat of the prick up against my back and strangely enough, it is oddly comforting.

No, no Dre! No unhealthy crushes allowed.

“Just go back where you came from, Draven,” Mister Ponytail hisses in my ear.

I’m a stranger in a bar, with four muscle bound meatheads. None of which I know. Mama would be so proud.

That’s it, where did I stash my mace?

So that’s his name, huh? Domonic. Figures that even his name is sexy.