Stone Romance (Stone Passion #2) Read online

  Feeling suddenly shy in the presence of the man who was going to be her lover, she shrugged her shoulders and forced her lips to curve upwards into a smile, “Well, you are a gargoyle.”

  He was a gargoyle. What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t get involved with a man that wasn’t human….

  “I am,” he murmured, lightly trailing his fingers over her arms, making her skin tingle pleasurably and making her dismiss her concerns regarding his lack of humanness. Rolling his shoulders, getting the kinks out, he smiled his dazzling smile, “I have been looking forward to seeing you for days and it just feels so good to be here, with you. I just wish we didn’t have to take the plane; I hate flying in a metal box.”

  “How do you prefer to fly?” Perhaps he liked hot air balloons or hang gliding….

  “I love stretching out my wings and just soaring,” he said, a wistful expression softening his face. “There’s nothing like the feel of the wind against your face when you’re flying with the eagles. I swear, if I didn’t live in the city I would fly all of the time.”

  Frowning, trying to figure out how he was able to hide wings that were capable of flight, she asked, “Why not fly at night when no one would be able to see you?”

  He chuckled, pulling her into his arms and hugging her. Surreptitiously she ran her hands over his muscled back and could find no evidence of wings. “I only have wings during the day.”

  “Ah,” she nodded, not taking her hands from his back, enjoying the feel of his heated skin through the soft material of his jacket.

  Oh, she longed to see him fly, to see his gargoyle body rise up and soar, to see the living stone shift and move. She yearned to touch the stone flesh, to learn if it was as hot as she remembered. Last time she didn’t take the time to really explore his stone body and after some of the things Melanie had told her…. Well, she was curious. “When there is a chance will you take me flying with you?”

  “Of course,” he said it as if it were a foregone conclusion, making her smile.

  “I want to watch you transform from a man to a gargoyle,” she blurted. “And then I really want to see your transformation from gargoyle to man.”

  He hugged her closer, his laughter filling the cabin and her soul. “I’m sure something can be arranged; we are, after all, together for the next couple of weeks.”

  “What happened to your hair?” she blurted, surprising herself with her lack of tact.

  Scrubbing his hands through the shorn locks, he smiled ruefully, “Every couple of years I donate my hair and with Vaughn and the trip….”

  She fell a little bit in love with him at his admission and his kindness. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through the silken mass as she held his eyes, as she watched him suck in a breath and hold it. “I love it, Rhys; you look so incredible but I think you’d look amazing even if you shaved off all of your hair.”

  He smiled slightly, “I don’t have plans on doing that just yet.”

  Resting her cheek against his chest, feeling the warmth of his hard body and the steady beat of his heart reminded her once again why she agreed to the crazy scheme. Rhys. “I can’t believe I’m here,” she was still awed by the whole situation. “With you. It’s so fantastical; I’m afraid I’ll wake up and find that it is all just a dream.”

  “My dreams have never been this good.” Pulling back, he looked down at her with that sensual half-grin but his hooded eyes weren’t dancing with amusement; they were steady and sure. He lightly drew his knuckles over the tip of her breast and she inhaled sharply as her nipple promptly hardened. As he continued to lightly abrade the stiff peak his eyes darkened and he murmured huskily, “You look beautiful tonight.”

  She had dressed very carefully, going through a dozen outfits before she settled on a simple, pale blue sheath dress made of lightweight cotton. She had nearly frozen her ass off on the way to the airport but she wanted to look good for Rhys. Lowering her lashes, she murmured, “Thank you.”

  His masculine scent shrouded her and she closed her eyes to simply breathe him in. All of her nerves were alive, sparkling with sexual awareness and excitement and just a hint of unease. It had been so long and she had only ever been with one other man and Rhys wasn’t human, no matter how very human, and very delicious, he looked and felt and smelled.

  “You two need to take your seats,” a high-pitched voice said, interrupting their reunion. Coming out of her haze, Jenna looked down and saw Garyn standing there as he scolded them, his orange and green eyes sparkling with laughter or annoyance, she wasn’t sure. “The plane is ready to take off and the other passengers are eager to leave.”

  Laughing softly, she glanced around the cabin and saw three enormous… men staring at her. The one in the right seat directly behind her had the head of a bull, his nostrils enormous and flaring, his horns deadly looking. His body was that of an obsessively fanatic but hairy muscle-builder; his arms and legs bulged with rippling, veined muscles, his stomach was etched into eight massive sections, his pectorals were solid slabs of meat and the muscles bulged, bigger than her breasts. His tail swished next to the seat and his legs ended in hooves. A minotaur.

  The second man watched her with a naughty smile. His legs were those of a goat, bending backwards at the knee and covered in a thick brown pelt. His torso was clearly defined but lacked the bulk and the hair of the minotaur. He wore his beard in a goatee and two horns curled from his head. The satyr waggled his eyebrows at her, “Like what you see, human?”

  Blushing, she averted her eyes and her gaze crashed into the brilliant gold eyes of an impossibly attractive male. Something about him made her uneasy though she couldn’t quite discern what it was, even if she thought she could almost put her finger on it. He was angelic in looks with his glossy, pale gold curls and his perfect face but he was definitely no angel. His eyes darkened as they continued to hold her gaze and his lips curled upwards in a leering smile, showing sharp, white teeth. “I think the human prefers me, Rahan.”

  “What are you?” she asked hesitantly.

  His grin widened, “I should think it was obvious, no?”

  She shook her head, stilling when she felt Rhys’s lips against her ear, “Kiltes is an incubus, sweetheart. But you needn’t worry about him; he’s neutered in my presence. Unless you choose to be with him?”

  “Are you insane?” she asked, expecting a quick retraction but none came. Disconcerted, she turned back and saw that the color had leeched from Rhys’s face. Her annoyance vanished as she took him by the arm and led him to their seats, sitting down next to him. All thoughts of the other three passengers sitting behind her were thrust aside as she fretted over Rhys. “Are you all right?”

  He offered her a smile but it wavered and sweat beaded on his brow. He held himself stiffly, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. “I really hate flying.”

  Sliding her hand beneath his, she pried his grip open and weaved her fingers through his. “I’m with you now; just close your eyes and concentrate on breathing.”

  He stared at her for a moment, uncertainty plainly written on his face. But as she watched, his lashes slid down, hiding the chocolate depths from her view, his lips parted as he released a long breath and his body visibly relaxed. With her free hand, she dragged her fingers through the thick silk of hair near his temples, messaging the tender area until he relaxed further. She was using her coping techniques to help ease him through his fears. “That’s it, Rhys; just breathe; I’ve got you.”

  His lips quirked up in a wry smile, “This is humiliating, Jenna; I don’t know why Omari simply didn’t send us on the yacht.”

  Leaning closer, she pressed a kiss against his jaw line, loving the feel of his heated skin against her lips. “That would have taken too long.”

  Turning his head until his mouth was against hers, his breathe mingled with hers as he spoke, “But think of all we could have done with nothing but time.”

  Letting out a light laugh, unwilling to move away from the temptat
ion of his lips, she murmured, “I can’t leave Ferris for such a long time. Plus, it’s coming up on the busiest part of the year for me; even this trip is pushing it.”

  “I know,” he murmured, surprising her with a swift kiss to her lips. Sensation shot through her, heating her and making her wish they would have taken the boat if for no other reason than to have the chance to explore his lips in greater depth.

  The plane lurched forward and all of the progress they had made vanished in an instant. His hold on her hand tightened into a white-knuckled vice grip and it felt as if he was crushing her bones to dust. But she held on, rubbing his arm, his cheek, anything she could reach, and trying to offer comfort. “Shh; it’s all right.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and his teeth ground together as he smiled, “Talk to me, Jenna.”

  “What do you want me to talk about?” Ignoring her throbbing fingers, she smoothed her other hand over the front of his chest, rubbing his sternum to keep his breathing regulated.

  “I don’t care,” he managed through clenched teeth. “Just talk to me.”

  Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she desperately tried to come up with a topic but with Rhys so close all she could think about was him; all she wanted to talk about was him. “What’s it like being a gargoyle?”

  “You’re supposed to be talking to me,” he chuckled.

  “If I can get you to talk it will take your mind off the fact that we’re flying,” she countered. “So tell me; what’s it like?”

  He was quiet for a long time, his breathing labored as he struggled to find his voice. “It’s… incredible but at times it can be tedious. Living in the city makes it nearly impossible to stretch one’s wings, though my brothers and I have done so on occasion. It’s also a lot of responsibility because my brothers and I are the Guardians of the two worlds.”

  “Huh?”

  “It simply means that we protect the humans and the supernatural, keeping the supernatural world hidden.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, the material of his jacket stretching tautly over the muscles. “The castle is a sanctuary for any paranormal creature that wants or needs it.”

  “Are you ever in danger?” she asked, concerned for his safety despite his obvious strength. “With all of the magical creatures living together?”

  “For the most part, the creatures living in our building behave.” He paused a moment, his eyes sparkling with his irrepressible humor, “Though they are not above getting into a little mischief.”

  “And I’m sure you never succumb to the temptation to misbehave.” She pressed a soft kiss over his heart, smiling as she pictured Rhys at the center of pandemonium.

  “I’ve been known to flirt with the line,” he said evasively. “Once or twice.”

  She giggled, “I didn’t know there was a line.”

  “It’s more of a suggestion,” he said solemnly, his eyes dancing.

  “But what do you do?”

  With a resigned smile, he shook his head. “We protect humans from the supernatural. We straddle the line between the two worlds in order to protect our secrecy and preserve humanity’s sanity. They have such a fragile hold on it and they don’t even realize how easily it can be broken.”

  “So you hide to protect us,” she shook her head and scowled, irritated on his behalf. “That hardly seems fair to you and the others.”

  “Sweetheart,” he grinned, the mischievous spark flaring even brighter in his eyes. “You have no idea how tempting humans are to supernatural creatures; we eat, breathe, fuck humans for all sorts of reasons, both good and bad. It’s just better if most of you remain blissfully ignorant of what’s out there.”

  “But vampires and werewolves are so popular right now,” she pressed.

  “Until you actually meet one;” he grinned. “Most of the others would just as soon fuck a human as kill them and not necessarily in that order.

  “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; 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 worl
d. “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.”