Bodyguard

I know how to protect her. I don't know how to resist her.

My pack gave me the grunt work nobody else wanted. 

I expected this job to be the same. Grab the package, deliver it, get paid. Simple.

Except this package has a name–Alex. And she has curves I can't ignore. 

But I can't touch her. That's the rule.

Bikers show up. They're predators. Even though they're wearing leather instead of fur, they're still shifters, and they still want Alex dead. 

I don't know who they are. I don't know why they're hunting her. All I know is my wolf insists that she's mine.

Alex talks back like she doesn't know what I am, like she doesn't know I'd tear apart anyone who touches her.

Bodyguard. That's the job.

Mate. That's the truth.

If we survive long enough, I'll make her believe it, too.