Chapter Nine

Cathy

Three days later and my belongings have arrived from the Clover pack just in time for the date night Atlas has planned. I spend an hour in the bathroom scrubbing and shaving every inch of my body. It may be our first date, so to speak, but I know how this night will end. With me riding Atlas’s cock. Again.

Not that I haven’t been doing it whenever we get the opportunity. But tonight is special and I want to look and feel my best for my mate.

From my suitcase, I pick out a set of baby pink lingerie that I know makes my skin look even more milky than it is. I have come to realize that Atlas has a thing about leaving little marks all over me. From slapping my ass to sucking my skin, he loves seeing the evidence of our passion on my body.

My wolf preens in the back of my mind, ready to bend over and take it like a good girl. Horny mutt. She’ll have to wait. First, we go to dinner.

“How am I supposed to let you out of the house if you look like that?” Atlas asks when he walks into our room.

He steps up behind me where I am applying my makeup, pushes my curls aside, and kisses a line from my ear to the mating mark that shows predominantly on my clavicle. The strap of my emerald green cocktail dress gets pushed down my arm before I push him away.

“I don’t think so, mister. You promised me a date.”

Atlas frowns but nods. “Give me a couple of minutes to get ready and we can leave. But I won’t promise to keep my hands to myself. I only have so much control.”

A giggle escapes me at his sullen attitude. The man doesn’t like when he doesn’t get his way. I can honestly say I won’t be keeping my hands to myself either.

****

An hour later we pull up to the most expensive Italian restaurant in the state. My stomach flutters with excitement. The valet opens the driver’s door, and Atlas rounds the car to open mine. Inside, the hostess eyeballs my mate with clear interest, and I must hold my wolf back from ripping her throat out.

“Reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Green,” Atlas says to the woman, but he isn’t looking at her. No, his gaze is firmly locked on my cleavage.

The fact that he doesn’t pay her the slightest attention helps my wolf settle down. It is also the first time he has referred to me as his wife. He leads me past the hostess to a booth in the far-left corner of the establishment, a secluded, almost dark area, with his hand on the small of my back. The booth seats are covered in a dark red fabric and the wooden table is stained so dark it is almost black.

The hostess leaves us with menus before heading back to her post. Atlas allows me to slide in before following, sitting beside me instead of across from me.

“I’m going to put someone’s eyes out before the end of the night,” he grumbles, the hand on my thigh absently tracing circles beneath my hemline.

“Meaning?” My question is breathy.

“All these men stare at you with lust in their gazes.”

“I only want you.” I allow my thighs to fall open in invitation. “Feel what you do to me.”

I never thought I would be into exhibitionism, but it makes sense. After all, I take my clothes off for a living. Atlas runs his index finger along the sopping seam of my lace underwear.

“Fuck.”

I know I’m pushing his buttons but it’s so much fun to rile him up. Besides, I’m the one that will be reaping the rewards later. He pushes the lace aside before sliding his finger into my heat. My nipples pebble visibly and I fight to hold back a moan. For long minutes, I allow him to play with my pussy before pushing his hand away.

I point to the other side of the booth. “Go sit there.”

He looks like a puppy that’s been kicked when my words register.

“You don’t want me beside you?” The words are soft, like my actions have actually wounded this massive Alpha. The male ego is a strange thing.

“I want you beside me, inside me. But I also want to have this date. I want to talk to you,” I explain softly. “And I don’t think a little anticipation will hurt either of us.”

A dumbfounded expression crosses his face before he gives me a devilish grin. “Whatever you want, sweetness.”

Atlas slides into the other end of the booth before taking my hand in his. The waitress chooses that moment to approach, and I want to smack her. She puts more effort into flirting with Atlas and trying to flash her tits at him than she does trying to take our order. She is a pretty, petite blonde with a stunning rack and I suddenly feel self-conscious.

“Do you mind if I order?” Atlas asks, his gaze locked on me as he rubs his thumb along my pulse point. “I know this menu like the back of my hand.”

When I nod, he speaks to the waitress. “We’ll both have the Alfredo. And your best Chianti.”

“Will that be all?” the woman asks, leaning further into my mate, offering him a perfect view down her blouse.

He turns his gaze in her direction, his glare deadly. “I know the owner of this establishment and if you disrespect my wife one more time, I will have you fired.”

“Excuse me?” the waitress stutters.

“Take your cleavage elsewhere. I’m not interested.”

Swoon. I never thought I would be into the overprotective, jealous, alpha-type guy, but Atlas is all those things and is ticking all my boxes. I’m already aroused and his asshole attitude toward her is just making me hornier.

I mean, how can I not want to jump the man when he does shit like that? It may not have been nice, but I appreciate the gesture. And it placates my wolf and the little green monster running rampant inside me.

“Sorry about that,” he says, tangling our fingers together. “Do you want a wedding ring like a human?”

His question and the sudden change in subject catch me off guard. “What?”

“Well, we’re on a date and getting to know each other and I was wondering if we could avoid future situations like the waitress if we were both wearing wedding rings.”

I laugh freely. “Not to inflate your ego, but I could tattoo ‘Property of Cathy’ on your forehead and women would still hit on you, they would still want to fuck you. It’s part of the whole Alpha male thing. Women are simply drawn to you. Human and shifter alike.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.” He smiles rubbing my empty ring finger.

“If it makes you happy, I’ll wear one.”

“Okay. I’ll get us a set tomorrow.”

Silence descends but it’s not uncomfortable. An older man brings out the bottle of wine Atlas ordered and pours us each a glass.

“Do you really want to go back to work at Dark Side of the Moon?” Atlas asks, cutting to the chase once we are alone again.

“I do.” If we are going to make this work, I need to be honest with him about everything.

“Why?” He frowns, needing an explanation.

“Because I love my job. I love dancing. It was the first thing I ever did that I was good at, the first thing I did for myself without having to worry about my father looking over my shoulder. I used to be a ballerina before I got into an accident.”

He nods, sipping his wine. “What accident?”

“Just before my eighteenth birthday, I got into a car crash with my best friend on our way to school. It was bad. I was lucky to survive but it ended my career and my dream.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you angry I want to continue working?” I whisper, nervous to hear his reply.

“Would you want to dance for the rest of your life? Was that your dream?”

He didn’t answer my question, but I’ll let it slide. “I’ve always loved to dance. My mother was a ballerina before she had me. It’s the only connection I have to her now that she has passed.”

“So, you would be happy if you could simply dance? It doesn’t have to be at the club?”

I nod and he smiles brightly as the waiter deposits our food.

“Then I will build you a studio,” he says simply. “You can teach children to dance or just dance for me every day.”

He’s excited about the idea of getting me away from Dark Side of the Moon. I understand his motivation. Mated wolves are extremely possessive of each other.

“And how long will that take?” I’m curious about his plan but I don’t want to put my life on hold for years while he gets everything in place.

“Six months at the longest,” he says and nods, agreeing with himself. “In the meantime, we can compromise.”

“Compromise?” I have a feeling that whatever he is going to say isn’t going to make me happy. Alphas are not known for their negotiation skills. Mostly they just do and take what they want, consequences be damned.

“Yes. You can dance at the club twice a week until your studio is done.” His words floor me, the opposite of what I was expecting to hear.

“Are you serious?”

Shock courses through me. Never in a million years did I expect those words to come out of his mouth.

“Yes, sweetness,” he says before kissing my knuckles. “I only want you to be happy.”