He’d wanted to turn around and finish his lunch, but something had compelled him to watch—a spark that coiled in his stomach and burned hotter with each passing second. Should he interfere? He was hired to protect her life, not to meddle with her personal business, and a woman like Naya was certainly used to men approaching her all the time. When he saw the man’s fingers slide up her arm, his wolf began to snarl and pace within him.

Naya suddenly sprang to her feet and slapped the man in the face. Wheeler had flashbacks of when she’d done the same to him, and a surge of adrenaline poured through his veins like lava. Maybe seeing that should have made him dislike her for being so callous to men, but a smidge of unexpected jealousy bloomed in Wheeler, as if her punishments belonged only to him.

And wasn’t that a crazy fucking thought?

Wheeler didn’t even realize he was walking in their direction—it was as if his body and brain had disconnected, replaced by animal instinct. When she turned away and reached for her purse, the man curved his left hand across his right shoulder. Wheeler had seen that gesture before, and it meant the guy was three seconds from backhanding her.

Wheeler caught the man’s wrist and spun him around. “Thought you were going to do that, didn’t you?” he said through clenched teeth.

He blacked out for just a few seconds. It always happened during the first moments of a violent outburst. It didn’t matter if humans were watching. In his world, a man didn’t put his hand on a woman.

Wheeler shifted around on Naya’s sofa and rubbed his eyes. Just thinking about how that scene had played out made his heart thump so forcefully that he could see the rapid pace through the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt. Then blood rushed to his cock as he remembered the feel of her slender fingers sliding down the front of his pants. That in combination with the way she had forcefully led him out made him ache in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Even now the constriction was too much, so he freed the button and unzipped his pants, which only made him harder.

“Dammit,” he whispered, wanting so badly to stroke himself. Even worse, doing that while thinking of her.

His breaths became heavy and he shut his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep. What was it about that scene that had incited such anger and arousal all at once? Maybe it was the thought of the way that man had touched her—invading her space. Or how goddamn sexy she looked standing up for herself and giving that asshole every bit of what he deserved.

Jesus. Wheeler was stroking himself over the fabric. He thought about how ripe she looked in that outfit, how supple her breasts, and even the fact that she had on nude lipstick that matched her dress. Except it had a shimmer that made her lips look wet… as if she had licked them. He imagined her tongue gliding across her upper lip. The next thing he knew, he had pulled his shorts down enough that he could get a firm hold of his cock. He gripped the shaft, rolling his thumb over the tip. Wheeler’s body jerked, and his mind flooded with the memory of how her cheeks flushed the moment she’d caught sight of his erection.