Perfect Misfits Read Online Free PDF Page A

since being on the blasted damn mountain. She continued to stare at the dancing colors.
    What is it?
    She sat with her back firmly pressed up against the cold wall of the cave, and quickly realized the luxury she’d been given—a soft bed, warm furs, and the temptation of water in a real glass, no less. Not even Fedor could do that.
    Where did the giant winged man go?
    Tempest blinked hard, trying to focus on the man wrapped in furs.
    Sandy-blonde hair, a handsome face, and the same sarcastic grin. It’s him!
    Somehow, he’d shrunk in size and lost his wings.
    “It’s you!” Tempest blurted out.
    “Clever girl,” he mocked.
    He stood unmoving and returned her quizzical stare.
    “What happened to you?”
    He huffed incredulously. “You’re complaining about my looks.”
    She was unsure whether that was a question or a statement. Whatever it was, he seemed annoyed.
    Her memories of him streamed through her mind. The man, warrior, and the gargoyle, he was filled with rage, hurt, hate and violence. But she had seen the briefest of purity in him. However minuscule, she knew it lived buried deep inside of him. How she loathed what others felt and thought. She always felt dirty and used after being touched.
    “Don’t ever touch me again,” she snarled.
    The man laughed.
    She was stunned at his audacity.
    How can he stand there and mock me?
    “I don’t give a damn who or what you are. Keep your bloody fights, demented creatures, and your unbottled anger to yourself. Got that?” she bit out.
    His facial features changed like a brooding cloud with the coming of a storm. He threw the glass of water as it shattered up against the wall of the cave. In three large steps, he bent down over her. Rogue jumped in between them, showing his fangs.
    Tempest stared up at the stranger’s face, her heart pounding so hard, she thought it would burst through her chest.
    “It was never my intention to touch you, Ice Princess, but once again, I tried to save your ass. I prefer to touch hot–blooded, wanton women—females who want me to touch them. You’re not my type. Don’t worry, I’ll never touch you again.” He was seething with anger. Tempest could see his elongated fangs as he shouted.
    His eyes shot daggers as he looked down at Rogue and continued his rant. “I’ve just about had enough of you too. Perhaps I should tie you up outside while I finish speaking to the princess.”
    She grabbed for Rogue just as he attempted to take a bite out of the man’s arm.
    In less than a heartbeat, Rogue went rock-stiff. She screamed, and came way too close to touching the impossible male. She’d pushed him too far.
    “What did you do? Please, I beg you, don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Please, I’ll do whatever you wish. Just don’t hurt him,” she pled, choking back a sob.
    The stranger spun around and stalked to the far side of the cave.
    Tempest slowly slid her back up against the stone wall until she was standing. She stared at his backside. He was still a giant, even without the extra height of the gargoyle form. Anxiety killed her. What would he do?
    He turned and marched straight back to where she stood on the straw bed. She was paralyzed with fear as he slapped his large hands on the wall of cave, caging her inside his massive arms.
    She closed her eyes. She knew they were face-to-face; she could feel his breath on her cheek. Suddenly, the room whirled as a vision of him formed in her head.
    His bare chest was pressed firmly against full, round breasts. He reached down, grabbing the female by the buttocks, and lifted her to fit snugly against him. A moan escaped the woman’s mouth, which he swallowed with a hard demanding kiss. He thrust deep inside her, faster and faster. His breathing was ragged and rough. The woman wriggled in ecstasy, clawing at his back, urging him on .
    As fast as the image appeared, it was gone, leaving her panting, her body trembling. Her heart pounded wildly as her