The Pack Rule Number 1 No Mates novel Chapter 3

DOMONIC

There is something disturbingly wrong with me today and although I don’t want to admit it, I know what it is.

The girl. Not the one presently kneeling in front of me as she expertly sucks my dick.

But the one from this afternoon. The one from the bar.

Draven.

An image of her long black hair and bright green eyes fills my vision and suddenly, my chest is aching again. The way she looked at me – the pleading in her gaze, then the disappointment in her eyes when I told her she had to leave – has me haunted. Leaving me with a burn in my chest that feels like my heart might explode.

I’m done with this bitch in front of me. Try as I might, I’m just not into her anymore. I guess I never really was. But now, since meeting Draven, I can’t even pretend to be.

First, Margo looks nothing like Draven, and suddenly, that fiery girl that I just sent out on the train is the only woman I want on my dick.

Fuck!

“Get up,” I hiss, and she smiles. Lifting off her knees and reaching for my neck. I shake her off, “No. Don’t touch me. I’m not in the mood.”

She jerks back, her blond hair swinging with her breasts as she shakes her head at me. “What is the matter with you baby? You’ve been acting funny all day.”

I roll my eyes and head for my bathroom to clean her mouth off my cock. “It’s nothing,” I say, rubbing at my chest and the bruising ache there.

It’s not nothing. But it will be soon enough.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I’m ashamed. I’m probably never gonna see her again. That girl. I’ll never know any more about her than I did today. I won’t get to feel that pull I felt earlier either. The way every hair on my body stood up when she entered the bar and the wolf inside of me purred as the world fell away at my feet.

When I was growing up, my mother always told me that one day she would find me… my mate. Mom said that when it happened no one else would matter for me, but her. Then mom would pretend to be jealous of the imaginary human just to hold me in her arms and make me promise to never to grow up. I guess I never believed it could really happen.

But it did today.

Relax. She’s gone. It will get easier.

It had better.

“Hey Dom! I was talking to you,” Margo snaps, stepping into the reflection of my mirror, her large breasts still unbound and heaving with sexual energy. “I want you inside me. Please?” She reached for me and I grab her hands in mine, forcing a smile on my face.

“Later,” I say, then I zip up my pants and step around her. “Take a shower. Let’s head to the bar. I need to talk to Bartlett about a few things.”

She pouts, her thin lips flattening out in a way she thinks is sexy. “Really?”

“Now,” I snap before heading down the stairs.

Maybe if I see for myself that Draven is gone, this fucking ache in my chest might go away.

Then again… it might just get worse.

DRAVEN

My first evening as a ‘sexy bartender’ was due to start any minute. After a quick and pleasant tour of the establishment as well as the apartment above it, Bart left me to prepare for the night ahead.

I only had a few items in my backpack, so settling in took all of ten minutes. Once I was freshly showered, I brushed the tangles out of my long black hair and decided to leave it down to sway past my ass. It fell straight and shiny without even the possibility of curl, but I usually wore it braided and wrapped into a tight bun. A habit I developed to keep it from being easily grabbed. Now that I was free, I could wear it any way I wanted to, and that fact alone was enough to put a satisfied smile on my face.

Donning a pair of distressed jeans and a tight long-sleeved black turtleneck, much like the white one I arrived in, I smile at my reflection. Despite the bags under my sparkling green gaze and the concave appearance of my ‘too slim’ waist, I look pretty damn good. I haven’t eaten in days so after a few good meals, I’ll be even hotter.

After applying some shimmering nude lip gloss to my naturally pouty lips and a two-brush coating of mascara over my long lashes, I am ready for work.

Tumbling down the back stairs with a spring in my step, I enter the kitchen to find Bart standing there with a tiny purple crop top in hand. The front of it reads ‘The Moonlight Lounge’ in the very same lettering as the sign out front, but in black.

He wants me to wear that tiny thing, I just know it.

Before he can hand it to me, his mouth falls open in shock and he whistles. “Damn girl. You clean up nice.”

I blush, “Thanks. Um – I’m guessing you want me to wear that.” I grimace, my teeth flashing with a tight open mouthed frown.

Bart grins, eyeing me suggestively. “Yup.”

I begin to fiddle with the tips of my hair, as is my habit sometimes when I get nervous. “Can it wait until, say a week from now?”

His smile falters. “I would prefer it didn’t, but I suppose it could. Any particular reason why? I think it’ll look great on you.”

Then, it is as if he takes note of the turtleneck I’m wearing and the nervousness in my eyes. “Let me see,” he requests.

If anything I deserve to use it for whatever the fuck I can!

Maybe he has a thing for me.