Page 11 of Wolf's Claimed Mate
“Yes,” I answered. “Did younotjust hear Fenrys? Jack’s diner, tomorrow at nine in the morning. Be there, or I’ll come to your apartment to drag you out if I have to.”
That got her startled. Her lips parted, glossy and full, and I remembered how that gloss had tasted on my tongue.
I smirked. “What’s got you so scared, kitty? Afraid of the big bad wolf boyfriend?”
Sasha’s glare turned purely venomous. “Fine. Nine am. I’ll be there.”
Chapter 5 - Sasha
I told myself I didn’t care about dressing up—least for Conall. Least of all, for goddamnbreakfastat Jack’s diner. But I left the house in a fitted, thick maroon jumper with a high collar tucked into black leather pants. I pulled on some heeled ankle boots with a black fur trim, grabbed my purse and leather jacket, and headed out.
I didn’t want to work with him, but I’d already decided on a plan. Conall wanted to be near me? I’d make myself insufferable to be around. I’d be nasty, prickly. I knew how to put up that front—to be cold and indifferent. He might not deserve it, but I refused to have him involved in my past so intimately. Nobody could see that side of me. Not even Thalia knew the truth. She didn’t even know I was still a virgin.
My heels clacked on the tiled floor of Jack’s diner as I strode towards an empty booth. Conall wasn’t here yet. I had purposefully left fifteen minutes earlyjustto beat him. Conall was pointedly punctual, never a moment early or late. I could use that against him as well.
A waiter came over, and I batted my eyelashes at him, smiling prettily. The thing about being me was that I enjoyed using my looks to get attention. I enjoyed showing off my body formyself, knowing I was being admired, but I was comfortable in my own skin to not take it further.
I saw his eyes linger on my figure. Most of the women here with lithe, well-built wolf shifters, but I had a feline gait, shapely legs, a thin body that men seemed to want to hold. I’d let them… for a while. Maybe I actually just enjoyed playing the tease.
“What can I get for you?” he asked, eyes not on mine but lowered.
“I’ll have two maple syrup pancakes with extra whipped cream and two banana milkshakes,” I ordered for Conall as well, knowing he’d hate that power being taken from him. It was about small wins.
The waiter glanced at the empty seat across from me. “Coming right up.” Then he left, and I watched the door for Conall. He soon arrived, wearing a plain black sports shirt and thin gray jogging pants that gave me a fantastic glimpse of his thighs.
Clearly, he didn’t skip leg day.
I dragged up that nonchalant mask of arrogance as he sat down across from me.
“Morning,” I chirped. He looked bleary-eyed as if he hadn’t slept.
“Hi,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. His thick dark hair, falling over his forehead and curling down his neck, looked messy, as though he’d only run his hands through it before leaving the house.
My stomach jumped nervously. Too much of where he came from reminded me of Jackson. The wolf pack, the wanting more power, more command, the dominance that I craved in a man, if only to put up a fight before willingly submitting.
He tried to flag down a waiter, but I pressed a hand to his arm, making him pause. Conall flicked his gaze down to my hand, where my nails were long and painted a glossy burgundy.
“I ordered already,” I purred. “No need to trouble yourself.” I smiled, all feline wickedness. “I know you must betired after running around after Fenrys all day, picking up his slack.”
A low rumble came from his chest. “Says the leopard playing at being part of the wolf pack.” He cocked his head at me. “Youdidjoin Kato’s pack, briefly, right?”
I tried not to let his comment affect me. I smiled tightly. “Careful with your assumptions.”
“Yoube careful withyours.” He folded his arms over his chest and I couldn’t help myself from looking down at his flexing biceps. “Correct me, then. What exactlywasyour involvement with Kato’s pack?”
I stayed silent, only smiling a little at him, knowing I held my secrets that he wanted to know. The waiter returning interrupted us, placing down both plates and returning with the milkshakes several moments later.
After the waiter left, Conall muttered under his breath, pushing the banana drink away.
“Problem?” I asked.
His gaze narrowed. He grabbed the drink again and slurped noisily. “None.” Hejustmanaged to keep the grimace off his face as he swallowed it.
I locked eyes with him, pursuing my lips against the straw, and sucked languidly, moaning dramatically at the taste. “I love banana milkshakes,” I said, knowing a drop had collected on the corner of my mouth. Conall watched me lick it away. “Don’t you?”
“I prefer cherry,” he answered with a smirk.
My heart stuttered, despite my willing it not to. I always wore cherry-flavored lip gloss, and he damn well knew it. Hewas reminding me of our night together, trying to throw me off-guard.
