Stone Passions Trilogy (59 page)

“Ew.”

He laughed heartily, hugging her tight. “The beings that try to go mainstream aren’t so bad but many more prefer to embrace their nature and prey upon the innocent, which is a huge commodity in the supernatural world, by the way. Gargoyles try to keep as many innocents safe as possible.”

As disturbing as everything was that he was telling her she desperately wanted to learn more, more about him and more about his world. Remembering the odd encounter from a few days before, her brows still pulled together in a frown, “A woman in the elevator mentioned something about guardians but I hadn’t known she had been talking about you. And I’m pretty sure she was a fairy.”

His smile was soft, easygoing, and he wasn’t stiff as death anymore as he forgot about being in a plane and relaxed into the conversation. “We do have a few fairies staying with us but they mostly keep to themselves. Describe her to me and I’ll see if I can figure out which one she is.”

“She was gorgeous,” Jenna said, picturing the exotically beautiful woman in her head. Was Rhys attracted to the red headed fairy, with her teeny-tiny waist and voluptuous breasts? “But it was her eyes… they were like cat’s eyes….”

He closed his eyes and a brief grimace shimmied across his face, “Toulia is actually a succubus. She has been trying to seduce Armand for decades so she has rented a room at the castle just to be near him even though she has her own place in Minneapolis.”

It was still awfully strange to be talking about mythical creatures as if they were real... which they were. But it was still strange. Stealing a glance at the incubus behind her, seeing that his attention was captured by the magazine he was reading, she leaned forward and asked Rhys in a hushed voice, “Don’t succubae have leathery wings?”

“They do but Toulia believes Armand will respond to her if her wings more closely resembled fairy wings.” He chuckled, “She has a weekly transmutation spell cast on her wings to keep them in their pristine fairy shape.”

“But… why?” It sounded like it would be painful to try to change one’s wings. Maybe it was like getting a touch up on one’s roots, though she doubted it.

“Most of Armand’s lovers have been fairies,” Rhys explained. “They are just as cold and emotionless as he likes to pretend to be. But he’s a gargoyle. By nature we are not cold, emotionless beings. Even when we are stone we still feel.”

“So you’ve said,” she chuckled.

“We feel even more as men.” His voice was rough and if they were alone she was fairly certain he would have gathered her in his arms and kissed her until she was breathless with desire. And then he would strip every last piece of clothing from her body….

Clearing her throat, she managed, “How are you different from a man?”

“I am a man,” he said softly, humor lacing his words. At the face she gave him, he winked and explained, “We’re stronger, we run hotter, we have calming influences on other beings and we don’t age past twenty-five.”

“So you’re basically the same?” her eyes moved over his face and she wanted to taste his lips. She wanted to run her hands over the hard planes of his chest and discover if his penis was as impressive as it felt behind his jeans.

“Sure.” He was laughing at her but she didn’t care. She wanted to strip him of his civilized veneer and lick him all over. Needing a distraction, she raced through a variety of topics that didn’t have any sexual connotations. 

“And when you’re a gargoyle? Can you see when you’re stone?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her thoughts were a little sluggish, trying to crawl through large pools of sexual desire and arousal.

He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. “I am a living gargoyle, Jenna, with a mobile body and all of my senses. While I am a gargoyle, my vision is black and white and somewhat grainy but I can see.”

“So, when you’re a gargoyle you are not without sensation?” When he shook his head no, heat engulfed her cheeks as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, incredibly interested in learning everything she could about Rhys and the gargoyle world. “Have you ever, um, had sex as a gargoyle?”

“There is only one female gargoyle but she doesn’t like talking about her past, especially with her sons. She’ll talk about everything else – God knows she’ll talk about everything else – but not that.” His grin was breathtaking in its brilliance and she had to concentrate on the words that were coming out of his sensuous mouth and not the lips that were moving. “No, that’s not true… if rumors are correct, there’s possibly one other female gargoyle out there. Somewhere. But she was created, not born, if that makes any sense.”

“Sort of?” It made sense, once she accepted that magic was real and gargoyles existed. But if there was only one, maybe two, female gargoyles, then… “Then where do all of the baby gargoyles come from?

“Do you really have to ask?” He arched a single eyebrow before curving his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer as he kissed the top of her head, inhaling deeply. When she nodded her head, he asked, “Where do human babies come from?

“Is this a trick question?” she eyed him suspiciously, not quite trusting the glint in his eyes. When he grinned, her body melted a little as she answered, “Um, generally a man and a woman have sex and if the time is right and they forget to use protection nine months later a baby is born.”

“It’s the same thing with gargoyles, I suppose. Only gargoyles – living gargoyles – come from the same mother and father,” he murmured, bending his head and running his tongue along the shell of her ear. Sucking the lobe between his teeth, he nibbled on the tender flesh and goose bumps popped out across her flesh. She wanted to tear all of her clothes off and rub herself against his body. She wanted….

Her breath caught in her throat and her pulse fluttered madly as the fleshy part of her ear slipped out of his heated mouth and he blew a gentle breath over the damp skin. And when she met his heated gaze her mouth went absurdly dry. She had to swallow a few times before she was able to rasp, “You make me forget myself.”

“I intend to make you forget everything, all of your worries, your doubts,” he vowed provocatively. “I’m going to pleasure you so well and so hard you won’t be able to walk once we arrive back home and I’ll get to carry you everywhere we go.”

She quirked a smile knowing that he would be able to carry her but doubting that it would be necessary. And his words only proved her earlier point: he was going to be ridiculously easy to seduce. “I’ll be able to walk, Rhys.”

“Sweetheart,” he growled, trailing a line of kisses along her jaw and to an exquisitely sensitive spot just beneath her ear. “I’ve got you to myself for a couple of weeks; you won’t be able to walk.”

“I’ll be able to recuperate during the day.”

“You do recall that I can move as a gargoyle, don’t you?” he taunted deliciously, his eyes darkening to pools of rich brown. When she half nodded her head, his grin grew wicked, “While my gargoyle cock may be too big for your luscious body, my gargoyle fingers are the perfect size. I’ll be able to do things to you that will make you blush and then make you scream. After all, I have ten fingers. Now, do you really think you’ll be able to walk in a few weeks?”

“All I hear is a lot of talk,” she murmured breathlessly, her eyes languid and heavy with arousal as she ran her fingers through the short, silken strands of his hair, mesmerized by the color, the texture. He was so finely sculpted. What if he took one look at her with his human eyes and realized she had stretch marks and small boobs and she wasn’t as beautiful as a fairy or a succubus or a Siren. Maybe it would be better if she waited to strip off her clothes until he was a gargoyle and could only see in black and white.

He put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up, “Jenna, you have no idea how fucking sexy you are, do you?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer that because he made her feel sexy but it had been so long since she had even wanted to be sexy. But what would he think of her if he knew the difficulties she had when she became a mother? The months of darkness followed by the long, arduous struggle back into the light? What if he discovered how relieved she had been when Melanie gave up everything to stay at home and help out with Ferris, how selfish she had been to relinquish her role as mother for so long?

Rhys’s arm squeezed her closer and he kissed the top of her head, “Thank you.”

Startled, she looked at him, catching the flare of desire still burning in his eyes. “For what?”

“I’m flying in a steel trap and I’m able to breathe,” he grinned, his color still a bit pale but not as bad as it had been before. “I’m going to have to keep you.”

Everything could change in a heartbeat and Jenna knew she was a fool. By the end of the trip she was going to be madly in love with Rhys and she was powerless to stop it.

Resting her head against Rhys’s warm shoulder, she stared at nothing in particular, not paying attention to the two pixies that made sure everyone on the jet was comfortable. Her lids were getting heavy and even though she wanted to stay awake for Rhys’s sake, she couldn’t keep her eyes from closing.

“Rhys?” she said, her brain losing its lucidness, allowing random thoughts to pop into her head. “Why is the incubus even travelling with us? He could pass as a human without any sort of glamor.”

He chuckled. God, she loved the sound of his laugh. “Passengers tend to sleep on these trans-Atlantic flights, including female passengers. And when confronted with a sleeping woman an incubus cannot help but to seduce her; it’s their nature.”

“Uh huh,” she mumbled, her forehead crinkling. “But he can’t seduce me, not with you here, right?”

“Right.” She felt him kiss the top of her head, heard the softly rumbled, “You’re safe with me.”

Chapter 9

When the plane landed there had been a large SUV waiting for the passengers, ready to take them wherever they needed to go. But since they were all heading to the same destination it made things easy. And with less than forty-five minutes until sunrise, they hadn’t a lot of time to spare. Still half asleep, Jenna was dismayed to discover she couldn’t see anything as the cars sped through the nearly empty, pre-morning, fog-enshrouded streets. Any light was diffused and made the areas they were trying to brighten appear even darker. So she settled back against Rhys’s chest and tried to keep her eyes open.

The minotaur shook his head and snorted before saying, “It will be good to return home. It has been too long.”

Jenna was surprised by the polished tones of his voice, finding it oddly compelling. Still half asleep, she murmured, “Where is home?”

He smirked, “Crete.”

“Of course,” she blushed. “It’s just that I’ve never met a minotaur before.”

He smiled, the effect very extraordinary coming from the face of a bull. “You never know. When I go out in public I wear my human face.”

With those words, he shook his head and gone was the bull, to be replaced by a very ordinary face with light brown hair and light brown eyes. He looked like a fellow accountant, with bland features and a thin mouth. It was fascinating. Reaching across the space, he held out his hand, “The name’s Maury.”

Fascinated by his average looks and non-exotic name, she shook his hand, the grip firm. “Jenna.”

“Yes,” he smiled a dazzling smile, which was surprisingly beautiful and weirdly mesmerizing since he was so very ordinary looking. She wondered why he didn’t morph into something flashier but figured being a minotaur was exotic enough. Unless he didn’t have a choice and his human face was the only one he had. “All of us know about you and your sister and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too,” she said, feeling the heat in her cheeks at the infamy she and her sister shared.

“I didn’t get a chance to formally introduce myself last night,” the golden incubus said, leaning forward and taking her hand. “I am known as Kilthiira of the Thousand Nights but my friends and close associates call me Kiltes. It is truly an honor to meet you, human, though it would have been a very pleasurable night had you let me into your dreams.”

Jenna yanked her hand out of his, her eyes widening in bewilderment as the man laughed, a low and sexy sound that shouldn’t have affected her but did. Ignoring the not unpleasant feeling, she turned to the satyr, “And you are Rahan?”

“I am,” the satyr beamed, his facial hair giving him a slightly demonic look. But his eyes danced with laughter and she found herself returning his smile. “You should ignore the incubus – he’s all hot air and bluster. A satyr, on the other hand, ensures his lover’s pleasure and once you’ve gone satyr you never go back.”

“Oh, please,” Kiltes snorted, waving his hand through the air in dramatic fashion. “Everyone knows incubi are the better lovers.”

“If you don’t mind flash and burn,” Rahan returned. “Your kind is always so eager to get to the finale that you ignore the pleasure of anticipation.”

“I’ve never had any complaints.”

Rahan snorted, “Because all of your lovers sleep through your efforts.”

Rhys’s arm came around her shoulder and he laughed, “You two should just get a room and get it over with. I swear, you guys bicker more than anyone I know.”