Hunter (Broken Bad Boys 1): A New Adult Bad Boy Romance by Skylar Heart Page A

is a Prince of Darkness. There are bruises on his face and I now also see them on his arms. He looks… broken. I freeze in my spot, not daring to move, too scared to set him off. If he looks like that, I don’t want to end up on the other side of his fists.
    Hunter slowly gets off his horse, letting out a hiss as he lowers himself to the ground. Only when he is standing right in front of me does he say something. “Lizzy.” His voice is rough, quiet, then he reaches up, almost touching me.
    That finally breaks me out of my trance and I step back, shaking my head.
    A smile tugs at his lips, but then he looks me over and I see the clouds gather in his stormy eyes. Fuck. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
    What? Out of everything, that is what he wants to know? “It’s the weekend, there is a lovely sun out. What else am I supposed to be doing?”
    The question seems to surprise him. He shrugs and lets out a sigh. “No clue.”
    We both fall quiet. I can’t help but stare at the bruises. They look so dark, and so painful.
    Hunter reaches out, takes my hand, and puts it on his jaw. I want to pull back, but he holds it there. “I’m not scary, or dangerous.” His low voice is pitched even lower and something stirs inside me.
    He is though—he is scary, and apparently quite dangerous to someone, if the bruises are anything to go by. But I know that isn’t what he means. He means that he is no danger to me. And I don’t know how I feel about that… “And yet you are.” I quickly close my mouth and look away. He finally lets go of my hand as he lets out a laugh.
    “I just make stupid choices sometimes, usually when I’ve had a bit to drink.” He steps back and reaches out to the horse, who pushes against him slightly. He murmurs something at the horse and then looks back at me. “What were you up to?”
    I shrug, suddenly extra self-conscious. “Drawing.” It’s nothing special, just a way to relax really. I step back through the curtain of leaves, back into the sunshine.
    Then Hunter follows me, him and the horse. Just looking at them like this makes my heart race. I don’t know what is going on or why, but my body is responding to Hunter like crazy. This is yet another side of Hunter, a side where he cares for the horse so deeply, a side where even though I can see the proof of his aggression, it’s still hard to believe he would hurt anyone.
    I turn around, back to where I sat, back to my drawing, putting a safe distance between us.
    Hunter saunters into the clearing, then turns around and loosens the girth on the horse’s saddle. He drapes the reins over a branch and comes over to where I’m sitting. “What are you drawing?” He steps behind me and I can feel the heat of his skin, smell his musk. It makes my body run haywire.
    I swallow hard. “Just, nothing really.” I’ve been doodling mostly, small images overlapping, twisting from one to the other.
    Hunter laughs and I look up at him, frowning. I don’t like to be laughed at, especially not about little doodles that I make. He holds up his hands. “I like it, they’re cute. I like how it’s all to do with night and darkness.” He’s quiet for a moment, then reaches out and points at one of the doodles. “Did you really personify the moon as a biker?”
    “Possibly.” It wasn’t really the moon I was going for, but I can understand why he’d think so. I hadn’t even realized that I was doodling a theme, but then again, I’m not really surprised by it either. It wasn’t really the moon or the night I was thinking of, more like… Hunter. I flip over to the next page, too aware of Hunter’s presence to keep working on the page. In a way, scared that he’ll figure out that the drawings are a lot more personal than what is going on around us.
    “You’re really good.” He walks a bit off and stretches in the sun. His muscles ripple under the shirt and the leather pants, muscles that show that this guy is used to working with