Hunter's Pride Read online

  “You look amazing.”

  She jumped at the sound of Duncan’s gruff voice. He hadn’t been disguising it those nights. Strong emotion had an effect on his voice, making it rougher, deeper…she’d learned that over the past few days. Anger, hurt…hunger…

  And judging by the gleam in his eyes she suspected she knew what had caused it this time.

  He reached up, toying with the light switch, a faint grin on his mouth. Narrowing her eyes, she turned around and glared at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she said haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Duncan continued to toy with it, still smiling. “Why not?”

  Kennedy just arched a brow at him.

  His hand moved, leaving the light switch to thoughtfully stroke his chin. “Okay, maybe I won’t. If you’ll take that nightgown off. It’s too pretty for me to rip off.”

  Kennedy felt the blush start low on her chest and spread upward until her entire face was flaming. Uh…strip…She glanced down at the silvery blue silk nightgown before looking up at him. “Okay, you can turn off the light.”

  He laughed softly as he crossed over to stand in front of her, draping his arms over her shoulders. He kissed her lightly and Kennedy felt her entire system burn from that light contact. “No,” he murmured as he lifted his head and started to toy with a lock of hair. “I think I want you naked. With the lights on.”

  She gulped. Stripping in front of him—she wasn’t sure if she could do that. Get a grip—he’s already seen you naked.

  The other part of her mind argued sulkily, Doesn’t count—the lights were off. And that even sounded foolish. Duncan could see things clearly in the dark—as clearly as she saw them in the day.

  His hand cupped her chin and she slowly lifted her head to stare at him. Duncan stroked his thumb across her lower lip, gazing at her thoughtfully. “Are you okay? I know this past week has been a little…weird for you.”

  A laugh bubbled out of her throat. “A little weird?” she repeated. “Oh, it’s been more than that.” Stepping a little closer, she rested her head on his chest. “My entire life has been changed around—all in a week.”

  He went completely still—for a second, it was almost like even his heartbeat and breathing had stopped. Then he fisted a hand in her curls. “Did we go too fast?”

  Looking up, she smiled a little as she reached up and pushed her fingers through his hair, watching as it fell back into place, gleaming like black silk. “It happened fast—but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life, just to stand here. Yes, things seem a little bizarre, but Duncan, I’m not sure I’d understand how to cope with normal. I tried for a few years and it just didn’t work.”

  Tension seemed to ease from his body and his arms banded tight around her as he lowered his head, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “I love you—I think I knew it that first day I saw you in the bookstore. I’m not ever letting you go, Kennedy.”

  He lifted his head as he said the last words, staring into her eyes. Kennedy rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, murmuring against his lips, “I’d like to see you try letting me go.”

  Duncan slanted his mouth across hers and she opened for him, growing drunk on his taste as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. His hands lifted her and she automatically locked her legs around her waist.

  That action left her open and vulnerable. The short, loose skirt of her nightgown rode up as he rocked his hips against her until she was riding the thick ridge of his cock. Just the thin cotton of his low slung lounge pants separated them. Through it, she felt his cock jerk, throbbing against her.

  Cool wood pressed against her back and her eyes flew open. He’d turned and pressed her against the door of the bathroom closet. His hands stroked up her thighs before he reached behind and unlocked her ankles. Kennedy groaned, frustrated as he lowered her to the floor, but then she felt her heart leap in her chest as she watched him reach for the waistband of his pants and shove them down over his hips.

  His cock jerked as he straightened and kicked the pants away, arrowing upward, pressing flat to his belly. Kennedy reached out, closing her hand over him, rubbing her thumb across the head. He moved into her touch, a soft growl falling from his lips.

  His eyes stared into hers, glowing, burning. She smiled a little as she dragged her hand up and then down. He clamped his hand around hers, leaning into her, using his grip to tighten her hold around his cock as he began to shuttle his hips back and forth.

  A shiver raced down her spine as he raked his teeth across her neck before moving up and catching her earlobe, biting down gently. “Mine,” he growled into her ear as he continued to pump his hips, moving his cock back and forth.

  Kennedy tightened her hand and a ragged breath burst from his lips. He moved, his hand going to her wrist, pulling her away from him. Then he brought her hand upward, placing it on his shoulder. As he lifted her again, she wrapped her other hand around his neck, clinging to him. He pressed against her again, naked this time.

  She whimpered as he stroked his length back and forth over her, once, twice, and then he shifted, changing his angle and pushing inside her. Arching against him, Kennedy screamed out.

  Her legs locked around his waist, hugging him tightly to her as he started to thrust inside her—slow, deep thrusts—pulling out until he nearly left her, then surging back inside, slow and thorough.

  “Kiss me,” he muttered and she turned her head blindly, meeting his mouth. She bit his lip and he bucked against her as a shudder wracked his long, powerful body.

  The hands gripping her hips tightened, damn near bruising her, when she slid her tongue out, tracing the outline of his lips before pushing inside his mouth, seeking out more of his taste.

  He slammed into her, one arm hooking under her knee and opening her further. The rhythm of his thrusts went from slow and teasing to quick, demanding. Each slide of his body against hers had him pressing against her clit. Those maddening little brushes tightened her body and the heat inside her belly threatened to bubble out and burn them out.

  Then he touched her lightly, shifting so he could circle his thumb once around the aching bundle of nerves. At the same time, he buried his length completely inside her sheath. Duncan tore his mouth from hers and she sobbed, trying to bring him back to her. But he lowered his head to her neck instead, setting his teeth into the curve where neck joined shoulder and he bit down.

  She came. Screaming out his name as fire blistered through her, Kennedy bucked and shivered in his arms. Duncan swelled inside her and the sudden jerk of his cock, followed by the rhythmic pulses as he climaxed, set off another orgasm.

  Too breathless to scream, all she could do was moan as it wracked her entire body and left her trembling in his arms. He murmured her name and Kennedy turned her head, pressing her face into his chest.

  He shoved off the wall, still holding her, his cock still sheathed inside her body. He stumbled a little and laughed. “Damn it, you make me weak,” he mumbled.

  They fell onto the bed and she cuddled atop his chest, smiling a little. “I love you,” she whispered. Her eyelids felt heavy—the emotional upheaval of the past week was weighing on her and she knew she was going to fall asleep any second.

  His arms tightened around her and he muttered one word just before sleep rushed up and claimed them both.

  “Mine…”

  Read The Missing

  Book 1 in the FBI Psychics Series

  After all these years…she’d known she’d see him again. Even when she drove away from Cullen Morgan’s home in tears, she’d known it wasn’t over between them.

  Why he was coming to her now, she didn’t know and honestly, just then, she didn’t care.

  She was so desperate to see him again, it was almost pathetic.

  No, it was pathetic. It had been twelve years, and she was all but panting at the thought of seeing him, of staring into those amazing eyes and standing close enough to smell him. How much had he ch
anged? Taige wondered. Instinctively, she knew that Cullen would be as devastating at thirty-three as he’d been at twenty-one. The truck came to a stop close to the house. She couldn’t see anything beyond the back bumper, and when the taillights went off, she jerked as though somebody had used a Taser on her.

  She took a deep breath and then groaned as her shirt dragged against her nipples. They were stiff and erect, throbbing under the thin layer of cotton. Embarrassed, she folded her arms over them and wished she could manage to get a damn bra on. Her hand hurt too much to manage it, though.

  Facing Cullen braless and in her bare feet: how much more disconcerting could it get? She held herself stiff as the knock came, pounding on the door as though he wanted to tear the door from its hinges. It came a second time, and third. Finally, she made herself move, shuffling through the dark living room with her arms crossed over her breasts, the wrap on her cast abrading the bare skin of her left arm and rubbing against her nipples.

  Nerves jangled in her belly. No butterflies; this felt more like she had giant gryphons taking flight inside her, gryphons with knife-edged wings. She reached out and closed her left hand around the doorknob and slowly opened it, half hiding behind the door. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead so that all she saw was the way his white T-shirt stretched across his wide, muscled chest.

  Through her peripheral vision, she saw that he held something in his hand. Something clutched so tight, his knuckles had gone white. She hissed out a breath and forced herself to look upward, up, up, up until she was staring into his eyes. It took a little longer than it should have; he was taller than he had been. At least by an inch. She was five foot ten—she didn’t have to look up to many people, and she decided then that she didn’t care for it at all.

  “Taige.”

  She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat felt frozen, and forcing words past her frozen vocal chords seemed impossible. She just stepped aside to let him come in, and when he did, his arm brushed against hers. She flinched and pulled away, backing away until a good two feet separated them. Once he was inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, resting her left hand on the doorknob and holding her right hand against her belly and studying the floor.

  He turned to stare at her. From under her lashes, she watched as his shoulders rose and fell, his chest moving as he blew out a harsh breath, almost like he’d been holding his breath the same way she had.

  “God, Taige…”

  His voice sounded almost exactly like it had in her dreams—no, exactly. In the dim light, she couldn’t see his face very well, but she had a bad, bad feeling that her dreams had been pretty damn accurate in that aspect, too. Shoving away from the door, she kept her head down as she moved around him and headed into the living room. He followed behind her slowly. She heard a click, and light flooded the room. She shot him a look over her shoulder, just a quick glance, enough to tell her just how dead-on her dreams had been.

  It was almost too spooky; even his hair looked right. It was shorter than it had been when he was younger, almost brutally short. His shoulders strained the seams of his shirt, and she had a flashback to her last dream, when he had crowded her up against the couch, demanding she tell him how she’d gotten hurt. She’d shoved him, pushing one hand against one wide, rock-hard shoulder, and she imagined if she reached out and touched him, he’d feel exactly like he had in her dreams.

  “So, are you going to look at me or just let me stare at the back of your head all night?” he asked softly.

  She shot him another quick, almost nervous glance over her shoulder, and Cullen blew out a breath.

  When he spoke again, his voice was closer. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

  Aren’t you going to speak to me at all? Cullen wanted to ask.

  Instead, he waited until she finally turned around and faced him. In the brightly lit room, he noticed two things. The first was that she had her arm, her right arm, in a cast that went halfway up to her elbow. A chill raced down his spine. The second was that her left eye was puffy and nearly swollen shut, a dark, ugly bruise that Cullen suspected was every bit as painful as it looked.

  “I already know why you’re here. You need my help.” A bitter smile curved her lips as she stared at him. “Why would else would you be here?” She glanced at the file in his hand and held out her hand.

  Cullen swallowed and lifted it, staring at it with the metallic taste of fear thick in his mouth. “You don’t owe me a damn thing, Taige. I know that. I’ve got no right being here, and I know that, too.”

  She sighed and dropped her head, covering her eyes with her uninjured hand. “Cullen, stop. You want something. Out with it. I’ve got better things to do than stand here and have you brooding all over me. So just spill it.”

  “I…look, if I didn’t have to have your help, I wouldn’t be here. But it’s not me that needs you—just…just don’t—”

  Taige cocked a brow. “You don’t have much of an opinion of me, do you, Cullen? Whatever brought you here in the middle of the night twelve years after kicking me out of your life has to be pretty damn important, and considering the kind of help you probably need, I’m going to assume there’s somebody else involved.” She stared at him, her gaze shuttered. “You think so little of me that I’d refuse to help whoever this is just to make you suffer because you and me got some history?”

  History… Is that what we had?

  Read More

  Bio

  Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance, and urban fantasy as J.C. Daniels. You can find her at Twitter or Facebook and read more about her work at her website. Sign up for her newsletter and have a chance to win a monthly giveaway.

  Check Shiloh’s other half…J.C. Daniels

  J.C. Daniels’ Titles

  Blade Song #1

  Night Blade #2

  Broken Blade #3

  Edged Blade #4

  Shadowed Blade #5

  A Stroke of Dumb Luck (Tor)

  Bladed Magic (A Kit Colbana Novella)

  Misery’s Way (A Kit Colbana Novella)

  Final Protocol

  Blade Song Anniversary Edition

  Damon

  Look for other titles Shiloh Walker

  The Grimm

  Urban Fantasy Romance

  Candy Houses • No Prince Charming • Crazed Hearts

  The Ash Trilogy

  If You Hear Her • If You See Her • If You Know Her

  The Secrets & Shadows Series

  Burn For Me • Break For Me • Long For Me

  Deeper Than Need • Sweeter Than Sin • Darker Than Desire

  The FBI Psychics

  The Missing • The Departed • The Reunited

  The Protected • The Unwanted • The Innocent

  The Hunters

  Paranormal Romance

  Hunting the Hunter • Hunters: Heart and Soul • Hunter’s Salvation

  Hunter’s Need • Hunter’s Fall • Hunter’s Rise

  And more