Twilight Hunter (The Execution Underground) by Kait Ballenger Read Free Book Online Page A

skin. What the hell was she supposed to do? Just stand and wait? She glanced up again, and her breath stopped short as the hunter turned and met her gaze. A warm flush crept through her, and a flood of heat emanated from her core. His appeal in the alleyway was nothing compared to the handsome, rugged man who stood before her now.
    In the light, his dark auburn hair glistened and the vibrancy in his emerald eyes took on a life of its own. With the trench coat gone, he sported a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt that conveniently hugged his muscular body in all the right places. She slouched in on herself, trying to hide her bare breasts. The thought of his hair brushing against her cheek while he laid her down crossed her mind.
    She lowered her stare to the floor. “Um...can I have some clothes, or at least something to cover up?”
    When she looked at him again, all the air rushed from her lungs. His eyes ran over her body, and she would have sworn his irises flashed a hint of gold, the familiar color of a wolf’s eyes. But that couldn’t be right. He hunted her kind. She shook her head.
    Friggin’ Stockholm syndrome!
    “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough.
    “Nothing. My mind is just playing tricks on me, that’s all.” She paused. “The clothes...uh...please?”
    He looked at her for another long moment before he walked into his room. He returned with a white dress shirt extended in his hand.
    She rattled her handcuffs. “A little help would be nice.”
    He stalked behind her, his gait smooth and graceful like an animal’s. Yanking her closer to him, he worked at the cuffs. She stumbled and bumped into him. Her whole body froze. She clenched her thighs together as a wave of desire rolled through her, leaving her core hot and ready from the feeling of his arousal pressed against her.
    * * *
    J ACE FOUGHT TO keep his breath steady and avoid panting like a rabid dog. He wanted to bend her over and take her right there, just like that—enter her hard and deep, reaching places where she’d never been touched. He unhooked the cuffs and held out the shirt. Princess slipped her arms in the sleeves. He stared at her with hunger in his eyes, his hands aching to run up her arms, over her shoulders and down onto her beautiful breasts.
    Man, he was one sick pervert. He’d dragged her here in handcuffs, and now he was eying her like she was his own walking pin-up girl.
    She finished buttoning the shirt, and he pointed to the bedroom. “Bed. Now.”
    “Wh-what?” The word sounded as if she were straining for air.
    He pointed to the gun still holstered at his hip. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Bed. Now.” He gave her a small nudge between the shoulders, and she shuffled toward the bedroom. He wiped his hand off like she was contaminated. Every time their skin touched an electric current jolted his body, leaving him with a strong, powerful feeling, like a freshly recharged battery.
    Princess froze when she reached the mattress.
    He placed his hand on his gun, ready to draw. “What the hell are you standing there for? Get on the bed.”
    Without warning, she spun around and charged him, knocking into him full force and toppling them both to the ground. Shit, he should’ve put the cuffs back on her. She threw a punch and hit him square in the jaw. He grabbed her fist and pushed her away. Damn, she packed a punch. She struggled against him, holding her own better than many male werewolves he’d fought, but he shoved her hard. He had his own supernatural advantages. From the startled look in her eyes, she hadn’t expected his strength. She scrambled into a crouched position and paused just long enough for him to pull his gun.
    He pointed the barrel straight at her head. “What the hell are you thinking? I told you not to try anything,” he growled. “Make this easier on both of us and do as I say.”
    She stood as he simultaneously rose to his feet, gun still pointed straight for her. “Get on the