Primal Law (Alpha Pack #1)(6)

"Yeah, but who's going to see us? There's nobody around." There was something wrong with her logic in this, but damned if he could think what it was.

Because at that moment she sank to her knees and manipulated his aching balls with clever fingers tipped in bloodred nails. Swiped the head of his leaking c**k with that pretty pink tongue. Began to lick his shaft, laving him like he was the last ice-cream cone in the Mojave Desert. He moaned, burying his fingers in her hair, not caring about the gallon of hair spray making the strands stick to his palm like a damned spiderweb. All that mattered was her mouth, sliding down over his rod, the heat, the suction, taking him deep-

A scream ripped through the night, shattering the mood. Jaxon straightened with a gasp, disengaging himself from his date more abruptly than he intended, pushing her back. He listened, ignoring the hooker's muttered protests. Another scream went through him like a bolt of electricity, the sheer terror in the female's voice calling to something primal within him.

Quickly, he tucked his flagging erection into his jeans and zipped up, and then pulled Alexa to her feet. "I have to see about this. Go back to the hotel, where it's safe."

"Oh, come on," she began, pouting. "It ain't your problem. Let someone else deal with it."

Spinning her around, he gave her a push toward the corner. "Go, now, and don't follow me. I'll call you." In that moment, he knew he never would, but the reason eluded him.

Digging his iPhone from his jeans pocket, he took off at a jog, wincing at the stab of pain in his mangled leg. In human form he could walk with barely a limp, but more strenuous activity such as jogging, running, or sparring with his teammates still caused the injured limb a great deal of agony.

Ignoring the pain, he scented the air. Fear. The unknown woman's panic clawed at his chest, more than a stranger's should. He had to get to her, make sure she was all right. Following the scent, he slowed long enough to ring Zander. Thankfully, his friend answered right away.

"What's up?"

"My hookup, Alexa. You've met her."

"Right."

"We went for a walk, but something's going down and I had to send her back. She's coming your way." He gave Zan her location and the intersection he'd just passed.

"I'll call the others and send them as backup. After I make sure she's safe, I'll head there myself. What's going on?"

"Not sure, but I heard a woman scream twice."

"Be there soon."

"Thanks, man." Ending the call, he stuffed the phone into his pocket again and picked up the pace. He didn't understand this driving need to hurry, to get between this woman and whatever threat she faced. He ran full out, knowing by the sweet scent that must be hers that he was almost there. She was nearby.

His route took him farther from the Strip, across another parking lot and past more darkened buildings. Not an area where anyone should wander alone. What had brought the woman to such a desolate part of the city? He'd learn soon enough.

As he rounded another building, he spotted her. The woman whose scent would likely drive him mad if he had a few seconds to savor it. The petite blonde was struggling in the hold of a man in a dark suit, fighting like a rabid wildcat, biting, scratching, and kicking. A second man rose to his feet, gun in one hand, cupping his crotch with the other, and Jaxon felt a surge of pride knowing she'd put him on the ground. Then the first man slammed her against the side of a car and delivered a blow to her face that snapped her head back and made her cry out in pain and terror.

Tear out his f**king heart and feast on it while it beats.

Jaxon's beast rose with a vengeance, burst from his skin without conscious thought. His roar shook the earth, brought the tableau before him to a complete standstill. He stripped off his shirt, was barely aware of the rest of his clothes falling away as skin became fur, muscles and bones contorting and reshaping, the usual pain little more than a whisper in his mind. Hands changed to paws, fingernails to claws, man to pure, raging gray wolf.

All zeroed in on the man who'd struck the small, pretty blonde.

The soldier in him knew the smart move would be to go for the man with the gun; the beast demanded blood from the one with his hands on her. The one who'd hit her.

The one who now let her go, twisted around to confront the new threat . . . and stared at him in horror. The predator in him felt a surge of satisfaction. His wolf wasn't nearly as hampered by his leg injury as the man.

The wolf sped across the distance, leaped, and the man screamed, the last sound he'd ever make. His forepaws struck the bastard square in the chest, knocking him backward, into the side of the car. Off-balance, the man stumbled and fell, and Jaxon took him to the ground. Lunging, he went for the kill, snapped his jaws around the vulnerable neck, teeth sinking into flesh, through muscle and bone. The man's scream ended in a rough gurgle, his hands grabbing desperately at the wolf's fur, trying to dislodge him. To no avail.

The struggles weakened as blood filled the wolf's mouth, rich and sweet, and he was hardly aware of the man's companion shouting in terror. The beast longed to linger over his prize, to rip into the savory meat and take his fill. To howl his triumph over the man who'd dared to strike his-

A muffled pop and a searing pain in his shoulder brought him around snarling, his kill abandoned as he faced the remaining threat. This ass**le had also wanted to harm the woman, and for that he was f**king dead. The wolf launched himself at the second man, who backpedaled with a yell, pointed the gun and fired again. His shot went wide, and Jaxon took him down as easily as he had the first goon, tearing out his throat. The urge to feed was strong, almost unbearable, now that they were no longer a threat to the woman.