Perfect Misfits by Lawna Mackie Page A

fucking worse?
    “Where’s Tempest?” he asked.
    Rogue looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “She’s asleep in the bed you made for her.”
    Without consciously knowing what he did, Ryder groaned, leaning his head back. “Damn!”
    Rogue’s growl snapped him out of thoughts of Tempest lying beneath the sheets…without him. “Rogue likes you, but don’t forget that Tempest is the most important thing in my world. I was willing to die with her. Are you? Don’t think about hurting her, or I’ll do my best to rip your throat out.”
    It took a moment for the words to resonate with Ryder, but then he laughed and put up his hands. “Right you are. You did want to die with her, didn’t you?” In his drunken stupor, he bowed low, sweeping his arm out in front of him. “You’d be a worthy gargoyle on any squadron.”
    He may have been drunk, but he didn’t miss the light shining in the gargdog’s eyes—appreciation, happiness, and hope. What a messed up place this was. Ryder scolded himself mentally. It would have been wrong for him to return home without helping these ones...these misfits.
    “I won’t hurt her.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the bedroom.
    He halted at the door; her scent drifted to his nose before he’d even opened the door. His nails turned to talons. Shocked, he spun, putting his back to the door. Never had the gargoyle beast within him reared its head without his approval and a chant.
    Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea.
    It was too late for that. The door swung open.
    Trepidation haunted him as he slowly turned and entered the room. He stood staring at her as if the air had been sucked from his lungs, unprepared for the onslaught of raw emotions.
    Her long, silky hair lay sprawled out over the covers. Gone were the mats and dirt.
    He swallowed hard. If he could imagine what a princess would look like, it was her. Innocence radiated from her small body.
    No matter how diligently he could have tried to prepare himself for this moment, it would have been impossible and uncontrollable. He staggered toward the edge of the bed.
    Her head moved from side to side as she moaned.
    She must be dreaming.
    Yet, he debated how such an innocent could look like she was in the throes of passion.
    Her arms and legs thrashed beneath the covers. If possible, his erection grew harder. His chest heaved. The smell of sweet honey and new flowering blooms spurred his actions. With one long claw, he reached down and swiped up a piece of her long, white hair. As if touching the softness of a flower petal, he brought it to his nose.
    She continued to moan seductively, and then, suddenly, she opened her brilliant green eyes. Before it could register, her arms reached up and around his neck, pulling him down.
    Tempest’s plump, warm lips crushed into his. Thoughts refused to register as he swung his legs up onto the bed and straddled her tiny body. She clung to him, pressing firmly to his chest. Powerless to fight her charms, he pinned her to the bed, giving her more of what she demanded.
    His tongue sought the warm flesh of her mouth. She pulled on him harder, and moaned beneath his embrace. Her hands left his neck and shoved at the covers, desperately trying to push them away. He withdrew from the kiss, but their eyes remained locked. She licked her lips. Ryder shifted his weight, and with one swipe of his large hand, removed the barrier of blankets separating their bodies. He straddled her legs, staring down at her luscious body squirming beneath the shimmering green silk. Tenderly, he rested his hands on her hips, sliding them over the fabric up to her breasts.
    With his touch, her nipples hardened to form peaks.
    I’m in big trouble.
    Passion flowed like a raging river in his blood. Tempest’s gaze never left his. She reached up, grabbing him by the shoulders, and tugged him down to where her lips collided with his.
    He was lost in a blazing fire he knew he’d never escape.
    As her lips parted