Page 10 of Alpha Hunt

She has a point. Even now, I can see some of them turning to look at us over their shoulders. Their expressions aren’t friendly.

“I can be engaging,” I say, although I probably can’t. But how do I explain to her that I could probably pick up more information from a minute of silence than she could from an hour of conversation?

“Bullshit. You’re going to go in there, there’s gonna be a flood of alpha testosterone, and you’ll get thrown out.”

“Sigma,” I mutter.

“What?”

“I’m not alpha, I’m sigma.” Not that it makes much difference. There’s still too much testosterone.

She frowns at me. “I… You… Look, it doesn’t matter. Just let me get in there and work the crowd a little. I know what I’m doing.”

It takes me several seconds to come to terms with this. “Fine. But if I see anything go off-track…” I leave the sentence hanging.

Before I realize what she’s about to do, she throws one hand in the air, putting the other on her hip. “Listen, buddy, I said I’m not interested, okay?” she says loudly.

She tosses her head, then saunters away from me; the sway of her hips is too suggestive by far. I tear my eyes from the way the denim molds to her ass and turn back to the bar.

I scowl as I take a seat, ordering a beer to look inconspicuous as I keep one eye trained on her. She reaches the loud group and leans over the table, her tight jeans leaving little to the imagination. The bikers are soon grinning and leering appreciatively.

My jaw clenches as one particularly brazen bastard reaches out to toy with a loose curl of her hair. Casey laughs, not discouraging his advance one bit.

What the fuck!?

My hand tightens on my beer bottle to the point that I might shatter the glass. I loosen my grip. Doesn’t she know she’s walking a tightrope? If these men find out what we are…

Breathe. Just fucking breathe.

There’s a peal of feminine laughter, joined by more raucous male voices. I turn to face the bar, watching them in the mirror behind the shelves of liquor. The brazen fucker has moved around the table to take a spot beside her. His hand rests on Casey’s shoulder, and he leans in to whisper something into her ear. I strain to hear it, but even with my wolf hearing, it’s hard to catch more than a husky murmur over the din of conversation in the bar.

“Oh, you bad boy!” she half-shrieks, then adds a giggle for effect. His hand has moved from her shoulder and now rests on the small of her back. When it slides lower, grazing the curve of her ass, I’ve had enough. Slamming my beer down, I stalk over and yank her away from the table.

“Hey!” she protests, rounding on me with flashing eyes.

“Yeah, fucker.” It’s the biker who’d had his hands all over her. “The lady was busy.” He turns from the table and faces me. He thrusts his chest out, pulling himself to his full height. He’s no beauty, that’s for sure. Dark hair is slicked back and secured beneath a broad bandanna that reads “Hog” across the center. A scar runs down his cheek to his jaw, where it’s met by a trail of black ink that traces down his throat and disappears beneath the collar of a black leather jacket covered in patches.

“She’s done here,” I tell him. We’re suddenly chest to chest, and the others are on their feet. Even at full height, I have several inches on him. I glower down into snakelike eyes that flicker slightly. I don’t think he’s used to being this totally outmatched. Boots scrape as someone comes closer. I hold up a hand.

“Let’s not make this ugly.” I look over at where three of the men are starting to advance. “My wife has been drinking. She’s not thinking clearly. She’s just pissed at me for telling her she’s had enough.”

Someone gives a snort of amusement, and the asshole at my chest flicks a look to Casey and then back to me. “Well, maybe you should get your woman under control,” he mutters.

“Sure will.” I nod, then back away, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her away from the table.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hisses.

“Saving your ass – quite literally – that’s what,” I growl. “Now, let’s get out of here before those dirtbags try anything else.”

She wrenches free of my grip and storms out of the bar, leaving me standing, holding her sweater as it pulls loose from around her shoulders. I toss it aside.

“Casey!” I stride after her, but she doesn’t slow down. “Dammit, Casey, stop!”

She’s still marching blindly; I can almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “Fuck off!” she barks, not looking back at me.

“For God’s sake!” I catch up just as she steps off the curb without looking. A horn blares, an engine roars, and I lunge forward, tackling her out of the path of an oncoming semi that powers past us with inches to spare. The rush of air as it passes is warm on my back as we tumble to the sidewalk in a tangle of limbs, me cushioning her fall with my body. We land heavily with a thud that should jar my teeth, but all I can feel is the weight of her covering my body.

Warm. Soft… Softer than I would have expected, considering how lean and toned she is. Instinctively, my arms tighten around her.

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