Alpha Wolf Defender (Awakened Shifters Book 2) Read online

  “And it’s only going to get thicker,” Lorelei said, “you two pumping it up like this! Those protesters already think she’s a whore, an’ now she goes and proves them right?”

  “I am not a whore, Mother! I’m a legal adult, I have rights.”

  “You’re a public figure,” Lorelei said. “You may have rights, but privacy isn’t one of them. You know that.”

  “Maybe I don’t care anymore.”

  After a tense silence, Lorelei cocked her head and said, “What did you say?”

  “I said maybe I don’t care,” Layla repeated. “Maybe… maybe we all need a break from Layla Shaye for a while.”

  Lorelei pointed an angry finger into her face. “Don’t even think about it, young lady. You’re under contract for the next five years, and you are not retiring before you’re thirty!” She turned to Jack. “You put those thoughts into her head.”

  Jack stood there, straight-faced. “You say she acts like a whore, but maybe that’s because you act like her pimp.”

  Mathers shook his head, Lorelei’s expression lighting up with new fury, brows high, eyes wide, wrinkles on her face seeming to deepen. “What? How dare you?”

  “How dare you? I understand she’s been an actor most of her life.”

  “That’s right,” Lorelei said, chin out, “and she has me to thank for it!”

  “And for destroying her family,” Jack said, “for robbing her of her childhood, her young adulthood. People like you make me sick.”

  The office door opened and cute brunette Cindy Connors, who had picked up Jack from the airport, entered with her familiar enthusiasm, but when she took in the serious expressions of everybody else in the office, she stopped and backed out of the office, sheepish and silent, closing the door behind her.

  Jack turned back to Lorelei. “You’ve exploited your daughter for your own gain. You accuse her of having desire, when any normal, healthy woman her age would have those desires. You made her a jailbait poster child, had her record songs that are all about one thing: defiling her body. Now you’re upset with her for being precisely the person you wanted… no, forced her to be.”

  Mathers rubbed his forehead, already seeming to know what would happen next.

  Lorelei stared up at Jack, lips pulled tight with her tension and anger. Her head was almost quivering with rage. “Now you listen to me, mister. I made that girl one of the biggest stars in the world, practically singlehanded. I’m not going to let some… some jarhead fuck it up.”

  “Special Forces,” Jack said.

  “You’re unemployed now, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Mom, that’s ridiculous. He’s not fired.”

  “You don’t have any say in the matter,” Lorelei said, turning to Stewart. “Tell ‘em.”

  Stewart nodded, shoulders hunched up. “Technically, Mr. Billings is an employee of All World Entertainment, and, well…”

  Layla said, “If he’s not around, I won’t perform.”

  “Then we’ll be sued,” Lorelei said, “and you’ll look like the most spoiled, stuck-up little bitch of all time.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Jack said.

  “Fuck off,” Lorelei said, waving him off. “If you’re still here in five minutes, I’m calling the police and having you arrested.”

  Jack said only, “No.”

  Lorelei and Stewart shared a nervous glance before Lorelei said, “What?”

  “I’m not going anywhere until the mission’s over.”

  Stewart said, “Well, um, and we appreciate that, but… we will be suspending all payments, so—”

  “No, you won’t,” Jack said.

  “Well, yes, actually,” Stewart said, “I’m afraid we will.” Jack took two steps toward the small man, still sitting on the corner of the desk. “Well, we… um, we can discuss some compromise, I suppose, compensation for—”

  “You’ll pay me what we agreed on,” Jack said, “and you’re going to stay the hell out of our way. I want a car; that limo is too conspicuous. I want a house too.”

  Lorelei repeated, “A house? Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

  Jack explained, “It’s safer. I’ll arrange the rentals, you pick up the tab.”

  Lorelei huffed, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous.”

  “It’s not ridiculous,” Layla said. “It’s what I want. And let’s both be clear with each other about this, Mother… I’m the one who matters here.”

  “When have I ever put anything above your career?”

  “Not my career, Mother… me!” A tense silence filled the office.

  Lorelei seemed to be giving it some thought. She said to Jack, “Fine, you can have a car. But not the house! I want her close by.” Jack just stared at Lorelei, who cleared her throat and looked back at Stewart. “Fine, go rent a fucking house! But if anything goes wrong, I’m holding you personally responsible!”

  Jack said, “Not taking any of the responsibility yourself? That sounds about right.” Jack turned to lead Layla out of the office. “We’ll hold onto the limo ’til tomorrow. I’ll get us a room for the night.”

  Stewart said, “But… her entourage, we rented a whole floor of the—”

  “And anybody who might want to know will figure she’s still there,” Jack said.

  Lorelei said, “What about us? Don’t we have a right to know?”

  “We’ll keep you posted,” Jack said, opening the door to let Layla step out of the office first.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Layla clung to Jack as they stood in the elevator, and Jack could feel her energy pulsing out of her. Her breath was just a bit short, and she kept leaning against Jack, shorter and lighter and with increasing focus and purpose.

  “Wow, that was… that was great!” She adopted a stern face to mimic Jack’s and said in a low, manly voice, “No, now give us a car… and a house!” Layla broke out laughing, leaning into Jack in a manner that was quite friendly and even more. “Classic.”

  Jack didn't want to encourage her; she hardly needed it. “I don’t abide disrespect, for me or my clients.”

  Layla leaned in a bit more, her arm slipping into the crook of his. “Yeah, you really stood up for me back there. And I really… really appreciate it.”

  Jack nodded. “No need.”

  Layla smiled playfully. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” The elevator doors slid open and they stepped into the subterranean parking lot. They paused, their limo already pulling up. “And where will we be staying tonight?”

  Jack gave it a little thought. “You like the beach?”

  Layla grabbed Jack and pulled herself up to his ear. She whispered, “I loooooooovvvve the beach.”

  The driver got out and walked around to open the passenger doors. “Shutters,” Jack said to him as they climbed in and the driver closed the door.

  Once the limo was moving again, Layla slid closer to Jack, the two of them practically sharing the same seat. She started kissing Jack’s neck, his ear, hands pulling at his shirt, his chest rising beneath it.

  “You know you’re only doing this as an act of rebellion,” Jack said.

  “No,” she whispered between kisses. “God, I want you so bad. And you want me, you know you do, I know you do. You want me so bad you can taste it! And you can, Jack… you can!” Layla went on kissing him, grinding her crotch into him as she climbed even closer, nearly sitting on his lap.

  “Fuck me, Jack, fuck me right here, right now!” She kept kissing and he offered no answer. “Right here in the limo, fuck me while we’re driving!”

  “No, Layla.”

  Layla pouted, looking at Jack right in the eye, her face only a few inches from his. “You just like saying no,” she said in a petulant little whine. “Big man, always has to be in charge.”

  “That’s right,” Jack said, voice low and cool and lacking any trace of doubt. “I am in charge. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  Layla sat panting, her pretty eyes flicking around the back of the
limo, blackened glass all around them. “All right, then,” she said, sliding off his thigh and unbuckling his belt. Jack wanted to stop her, it was what professional decorum required.

  But Jack Billings worked for no union; nobody, but nobody made rules for him to follow other than himself. And as those little fingers found his massive member, human thought receded to his lurking lupine instincts—animalistic, primal.

  Jack leaned back into the limo, dark and cozy, rolling smoothly, engine humming. His erection grew quickly, cock stretching and thickening and hardening in her grip. She groaned wantonly, gripping that long stalk of meat with both hands. One clung to his base, the other pumped the center of his shaft. What remained reached up, eager for the warm, wet feeling Jack knew was coming.

  Layla’s lips wrapped around his head, wetting it to Jack’s delight. She gave it several kisses around the side and underneath, licking and pressing it against her gorgeous face, eyelashes tickling him just a bit before she took him in again, deeper. Her tongue sank out of the way to make room for him, lips folded over her teeth. Her tongue danced around his head and the upper length of his shaft, squeezing and pumping in a firm contrast to her languid, liquid licking.

  She kept pumping, squeezing harder as she flicked her tongue around every side of his head, pressing that upper shaft over her cheeks and nose and chin, now slick with her own saliva.

  Jack’s hips began to shift, a low groan leaking out of his throat.

  She rasped, “You like it? Want more?” Jack nodded and leaned back, eyes dipping closed. “God, your cock is so fucking big,” she said, nuzzling it. “I gotta have it inside me, Jack… now, right now!”

  “No,” Jack said, “you’ll wait! You’ll wait until I can fuck you the way you should be fucked, the way you need to be fucked!”

  “Yes,” she barely managed to say, pumping his shaft. “God yes!” She took him in even deeper, her famous blonde hair spilling forward, over his lap.

  “Don’t you worry, Layla, there’s more where this came from.”

  “Oh yes—”

  “You take care of me, and I will take care of you.” Pleasure pulsed through Jack’s body, blood flowing fast and easy in his veins. His heartbeat was strong, steady, strength building in his arms and legs.

  Jack could smell her eagerness, sense her readiness to unleash herself upon him. And he wanted it, more and more as the moments crept on and his juices began to gather. He thought about having her, anticipating having those thighs wrapped around him, those perfect breasts out and pressing against his pecs, all that blonde hair spilling over her gorgeous face, naked shoulders arching.

  Layla seemed to sense his increasing pleasure, just the thought of having her driving him closer to his first orgasm of the night. The car sped along, turning to ease them both to the side, the increase in pressure adding to Jack’s growing internal tension.

  It was about to explode.

  She licked and kissed and squeezed and pumped, the combination of pressure and pumping inspiring his hips to jut in that leather bench seat, fingers combing through her luscious blonde locks.

  Layla had masterful technique, an instinct for pleasure that Jack knew would serve them both well in the hours to come. She’d been around, but he was about to take the famous Layla Shaye places she’d never even imagined.

  But first, Jack’s body tensed as Layla increased her attention to him in every way, his senses finally pushed over the edge by her sweet little whimper.

  “C’mon, baby, come for me, c’mon!”

  Jack decided to release his package, loaded and charged up and ready to race down his big vein to spit out of his burning purple head. Layla had sensed it coming and she was ready, opening her mouth to take in every drop of his pearlescent package. She licked up what she could and caught the rest on her cheeks and chin. The power surged through Jack, muscles on the backs of his legs twitching, a wave of chemicals pulsing through him. He threw out another spike of come and Layla swallowed it down. She rubbed his throbbing unit over her face, cheeks, nose, chin, to collect the overshoot. She licked him clean, leaving no trace of his massive orgasm.

  Layla moaned with a feminine little coo as Jack’s erection temporarily subsided. But she seemed to know as well as he did that it would be back, more than once before he was done, and soon.

  Layla poured them each a scotch and rocks from the limo bar, handing him his glass and cuddling up to him like a wanton little kitten, nuzzling his chest and drinking, knowing the scotch would refresh her.

  Jack took a calming sip of the liquor, hot in his throat and warm in his belly. His blood was still charging in his veins, but it had slowed to a regular pulse, strong and certain. Jack relished the feeling of his strength and power, leaning back to enjoy the very finest things life had to offer: sexual ecstasy at the hands of a world-famous beauty, gliding down the freeway in a limousine sipping Glenlivet in one of the greatest cities in the world.

  But where Jack was couldn’t compare to where he was going. He looked down at that gorgeous young woman, cuddling up to him to fuel his masculine energy, gearing up again for what would be a glorious night. Those supple breasts, creamy thighs, pouting lips, smooth shoulders and arms; she was a sensual delight, cooing and cuddling with such a seething sensuality that Jack nearly shuddered to think of the sensations to come.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The limo pulled up to Shutters, a small boutique hotel in Santa Monica, known and named for the green shutters over the windows of the building’s facade. Jack had called ahead, so there was a room waiting. But there was still the matter of checking in, something they did with as little fuss as possible.

  Layla clung to Jack, burying half her face in his chest, glancing around with one eye at the quiet lobby. Jack took care of the details, and the clerk kept shooting Layla nervous glances and smiles, clearly starstruck to be in such company.

  “We need privacy,” Jack said, pulling a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and sliding it across the registration desk.

  The clerk smiled and took the bill. “You won’t be disturbed, sir. You have my promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  Jack turned to lead Layla to the elevator. The clerk disappeared to a back room, but Jack didn’t give him any more thought than that.

  “Hey, Layla Shaye!” Jack and Layla turned to see a chubby man, hairy and bearded, holding a camera to his face, snapping off a series of shots with a stream of clicks. A second beard hung from around his thick neck, bouncing on his fatty bosom.

  “Gimme a good shot, Layla!”

  “Beat it,” Jack said.

  “You’re her new guy, huh? So what’s your story? I hear you’re her bodyguard.”

  “And you’re still standing there?”

  The guy offered up a nervous chuckle, but he kept firing off shots. “C’mon, man, be cool.”

  Layla said, “Just leave us alone!”

  “Layla, c’mon! Gimme something! Are you still with Cy Davenport?” Layla just shook her head, clinging to Jack as they made it to the elevator. “Did you hear what happened?”

  Layla shook her head again. “No, what?”

  “Freaked out, walked off the set. Nobody knows where he is.”

  Layla glanced up at Jack, who knew why she had a reason to worry. Jack said to the paparazzo, “Beat it.”

  “What? I’ve got a right, dude. It’s called the First Amendment.”

  “You think this is what the Founders had in mind?”

  The paparazzo shrugged and kept taking pictures. “I don’t give a shit.”

  Jack grabbed the camera out of his hands. “Hey, man! What the—?” Jack threw it to the floor and stomped on it, the frame and lens bending, class cracking. Jack pulled out his wallet and tossed a few hundred dollars on the floor in front of the guy. “Oh, okay, Sonny Corleone,” the paparazzo said. He grabbed the other camera and kept shooting. “Whaddaya think, I’m some kinda rube?”

  Jack grabbed the second camera and th
rew it down so hard that it shattered at his feet. But he was beyond paying for it. Instead, it was the paparazzo’s time to pay. Jack grabbed his throat and walked him backward across the lobby.

  “You listen to me, you fat hippie; we’re here for reasons of security. You leak her whereabouts and that’s going to compromise not only her safety but the safety of every person in this hotel. You hearin’ me?”

  He nodded, choking as his round face got redder to match his thick, tangled beard.

  “Word gets out that she’s here, I’m going to blame you… and I’m going to find you… and I’m going to rip your balls off with my bare hands. Got that?” He nodded, feet tripping under him as Jack pushed him toward one of the front-facing windows. “Say it!”

  “Got it… got it!”

  They stopped by the window. “If I see you anywhere—here, anywhere Miss Shaye is… or isn’t—I don’t care if it’s just a coincidence, you’re a dead man.”

  “Got it,” he choked out, hands clinging to Jack’s arm.

  “Then you’re not as stupid as you look. Now get the hell out of my sight.” Jack pulled open the front door and threw the man out into the street. Jack turned and shot the clerk a mean look, but the clerk could only shrug and try to smile from behind the registration desk. Jack knew the clerk hadn’t had time to alert the paparazzo, and that kept the young man from joining him in the gutter with more than just a few broken cameras.

  Once the elevator doors closed, Layla hurled herself into Jack, tugging at his shirt, kissing his neck, her hot, sweet breath collecting in his nape. Her hands pressed against his well-muscled torso, one sliding down to his cock, already getting hard again.

  “That was so hot,” she whispered, “so fucking hot! God, I want you so bad, baby. Can’t wait… can’t wait—”

  Jack grabbed her wrists and turned, pressing her back against the wall of the elevator. “You’re going to have to wait,” he said, low and stern. “You’re not in control here anymore, you know that!” Layla nodded, panting, eyes seemingly unable to keep from combing his body. “Look at me!” Layla’s eyes shot up to lock into his. She stood there breathless as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.