Stone Lover Page 2

  “You nearly gave us away,” Armand continued, his voice lowering even more as he continued to glare at Vaughn. His eyes dropped to Vaughn’s midsection and he made a sound of disgust before returning his gaze back to Vaughn’s face.

  Vaughn grunted his disbelief, “I’d like to see you try to resist a gorgeous girl handling your cock, especially during the day.”

  Rhys laughed, his white teeth flashing in the city lights. “I wouldn’t mind in the least; it looked delightful. Geez, Vaughn, share the fucking wealth.”

  A low growl emanated from the back of Armand’s throat and his green eyes flashed in warning.

  “I didn’t invite her up here,” Vaughn protested, even though the feel of the brunette’s hands was burned into his flesh and her sweet, intoxicating scent still lingered in his nostrils. She didn’t seem to be suffering from any side effects of being so close to the magic that surrounded the building, that surrounded him. If she weren’t living in the building, he would have considered exploring the possibilities that existed with her but it was too dangerous to let her stay.

  Unless, of course, she were under his protection. But it would be foolish to offer it to the stranger; he knew next to nothing about her.

  He knew that she had somehow moved in the evening before. He had been guarding the skies, enjoying some solitude while his brothers patrolled the streets below. Some sounds filtered up to the roof from the supposedly empty apartment. Curious, he had investigated and was surprised to discover a human moving in.

  It would have been better had he intervened at the time, discouraged her from moving in, but then he accidentally saw her through the sky light in her bathroom. She had been taking a bath and his breath had caught in his throat; she was exquisite. Her perfect breasts would fit in the palms of his hands; her slender waist curved into very feminine hips and her rich, chocolate brown hair flowed to the middle of her back. It was the same color as the hair between her slender thighs.

  She had an innocence about her; she looked like the proverbial girl next door and not at all like the occasional human he fucked; women who wanted hot, sweaty sex and didn’t expect anything more than a night of mutual pleasure, who didn’t care that he would disappear before the sun came up. Hell, they didn’t care if they never saw him again.

  Beneath the girl’s wholesomeness lurked a siren who seemed to defy the magic protecting their building; their living stone forms. He heard the bewilderment in her voice when she whispered in her smoky voice, “Your expression.” What had she seen when she brought him to his knees?

  Melanie; her name was Melanie.

  “We cannot have her kind sniffing around,” Armand ground out, interrupting his contemplations. “She is… too aware.”

  “I’d like to know how she managed to rent a room here,” Rhys said, laughter in his voice. He never took anything seriously; Vaughn figured it was to make up for the fact that Armand took everything too seriously. “Especially one that is for a pixie, not a human.”

  Vaughn shook his head, a slight smile on his face at the thought of the girl in such a tiny room; a room that had once been a closet before it was converted in a hurry when the small creature needed a place to stay. Humans – normal humans – avoided the castle, too uncomfortable with the amount of magic that the building emitted; it made them ill and the longer they stayed the worse they felt. What was wrong with this girl?

  “She seems to be… drawn to you, Vaughn,” Armand scowled, a darkly pensive look on his chiseled face. Without giving Vaughn a chance to confirm or deny that statement, he glared, “Deal with it.”

  “I will,” he replied through clenched teeth, the tendons of his neck straining as he struggled to control his irrational desire to punch his brother in his perfect face. In theory, he agreed whole-heartedly with Armand but in truth, he wanted the girl. It was illogical and dangerous and undeniable.

  “Before anything happens, Vaughn,” Armand stated unnecessarily. “You know how dangerous our world can be for ill-prepared humans; she’s a child and she lacks all training. And then there are the imps.”

  “Fucking imps,” Rhys breathed beneath his breath.

  Vaughn’s nostrils flared but he held his tongue; his brother wasn’t saying anything that he didn’t already know. The girl was a problem that had to be dealt with immediately, no matter how badly he wanted to discover if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. “I said I would take care of her.”

  Armand’s eyebrow shot up and his eyes narrowed to two dangerous slits, “Be sure that you do.”

  With that, the black-haired, taciturn man walked through the door that led to the penthouse suite the three of them shared. The entire top floor was their home; they were a gargoyle triad and preferred to remain in close proximity to each other. The penthouse gave them enough space to keep them from killing one another but remain close. It shouldn’t be possible that a human was living on that floor with them. Why didn’t they convert the small room back to its original state after the little pixie left?

  How was he going to get rid of her? Rhys’s laughter filled the early night, echoing his own doubts. “Are you going to be able to get rid of her?”

  “How difficult is it to take care of a single girl with too much imagination?” Vaughn asked, feeling the need to see her, knowing that it would be very unwise to do so. “I’ll give her tonight and then take care of it tomorrow.”

  Rhys’s brows drew together, “Don’t you think it would be better to get rid of her tonight? At least, that would be what I am assuming Armand wants.”

  With a rueful smile, Vaughn shrugged and semi-joked, “She seems so delighted to be here; I hate to take that away from her.”

  Rhys laughed out right, clapping his brother on the back, “You’re hoping for another hand job tomorrow afternoon, aren’t you?” At Vaughn’s half smile, Rhys added, “But what if she chooses to share her favors with me or, God forbid, Armand? I think he would strangle her where she stood if she dared to touch him in his gargoyle form.”

  “No doubt you’re right.” With a negligent shrug of his shoulders, he added, “And then I would have to retaliate and then you would throw yourself into it and it would turn into a brawl. The poor girl would be stuck in the middle of three stone beasts smashing their fists into each other’s faces. She’d be scarred for life.”

  Rhys chuckled along with him, “So you have no intention of sharing?”

  “I have no intention of partaking.” Vaughn let out a sigh as he looked down and saw the girl’s winter clothes sprawled haphazardly all over the ground. Squatting down, he began gathering up the colorful, mismatched clothing before he looked up and met his brother’s eyes, “She’s too dangerous. There is something about her and I think, given enough time, I would consider giving up my nights for her.”

  “Don’t let Armand ever hear you say any such thing,” Rhys warned, his brown eyes sparkling even as his words were weighted with meaning. “He’d invoke the elders to keep you from doing something so foolish.”

  “I know.” With the pile of clothes gathered in his arms, he followed Rhys back into their apartment suite, knowing what he had to do and not wanting to do it, despite Armand’s unnecessary warnings. With a slight frown, he looked at the hidden door that led to the roof, “How do you think she got up there?”

  Rhys shook his head, his hair shifting with the motion, “I have no idea; are you thinking imps?”

  Vaughn was shaking his head before Rhys even finished asking the question, “No; if it were imps, she would have been tied up, gagged and deposited in front of Armand. No, she found her own way up and perhaps we should be more concerned with who is divulging our secrets to humans.”

  “I’ll look into that while you take care of the girl.” Rhys chuckled, “There’s no point getting Armand’s panties all in a knot because one of the nymphs is playing a joke on us.”

  “All right.” Leaving Rhys at his room, Vaughn continued on past his own room, the living room, the kitchen, until he got to
the front hall. Shifting the clothes, he opened the door into the large entry, which led to the elevators and the girl’s closet. Er, room.

  He didn’t know how long he stood in front of her door debating whether or not he should knock; a good ten minutes. He listened to her as she turned on some Beethoven and started moving some of her boxes around. Several grunts and the occasional curse word were muffled by the door, making him smile and tempting him to knock and offer his help. But he was still naked and the space in her room was very small; if he was in there with her he doubted he would be able to leave without at least tasting her.

  And once he tasted her, he wouldn’t want to let her go at all.

  Setting the bundle of clothes down in front of her door where she would be sure to find them in the morning, he turned around and walked back into his apartment. He would take care of the girl tomorrow; he would discover where she was going to be welcoming in the New Year and if it was in a public place he would dance with her and compel her to go. If it were somewhere else, he would wait until she returned to the small room and… figure something out.

  If all else failed, Armand would be able to get rid of her; he was a cold bastard, unmoved by a female’s tears.

  Two

  “I can’t believe you wore that,” Vanessa teased as Melanie sat down at the table. The popular bar was already crowded with revelers but somehow Vanessa still managed to snag a table. It wasn’t surprising, considering how gorgeous the model-thin blond was, what with her mile-long legs and movie-star face. “What happened to the outfit I picked out for you?”

  Melanie smoothed her hands down the front of her shimmery silver button-down blouse than over the gray, cigarette skirt covering her thighs that flared out at the bottom. It was very reminiscent of the glamor of the 1940’s and she had fallen in love with it when she had seen it in the vintage clothing shop a few weeks back; she had bought it without a second thought. It was the perfect outfit to welcome in the New Year and she even attempted to style her hair in a French twist to complete the look. Giving Vanessa s honeyed smile, she shrugged, “I prefer clothes that hint at my feminine charms.”

  Vanessa snorted, taking a drink of her vibrant cocktail. “Please; if your feminine charms were any more hidden, dust would billow out from between your thighs every time you walked.”

  “As compared to the well-oiled sex machine presented by your scrap of material pretending to be a dress?” Frankie piped in as she joined the two girls, laughing at Vanessa’s choice of dress that blatantly screamed her sexuality. The dress was backless, sleeveless, and ended just beneath Vanessa’s butt. Of course, Vanessa could pull off the barely-there dress, reveling in all of the attention it garnered her.

  “Oh, ha ha,” Vanessa laughed, letting her eyes take in Frankie’s outfit, which was somewhere in between Melanie’s old school glamor and Vanessa’s sex on two legs. Frankie’s red curls were pinned up in a sloppy bun and she was wearing a sexy black dress than emphasized her lush curves. She was nearly as gorgeous as Vanessa and enjoyed flirting even though she was utterly devoted to her fiancé.

  Vanessa, on the other hand, was up for anything and that was one of the reasons Melanie adored her; Ness insisted on making her have fun when she’d rather be curled up in her bed with a good book or daydreaming in the middle of a field of flowers. The three of them had been friends since high school, along with Melanie’s sister Jenna. Of course, since Jenna had Ferris, she rarely went out.

  Frankie placed a glass of something in front of her and Melanie took a sip: a non-alcoholic margarita. “Thanks.”

  “I have learned my lesson that it is never a good idea to get my fanciful friend drunk,” Frankie grinned, putting an arm around Melanie’s shoulders. “Alcohol has the weirdest effect on you.”

  Melanie sighed dramatically then ruined it with a wide grin. “It’s not my fault that I see fairies and imps after a glass or two of wine.”

  “Thankfully I don’t have that problem,” Vanessa said as she slammed the rest of her cocktail down and waved over a waiter to order another. With a wicked smile, Vanessa waggled her eyebrows, “I fully expect to crash at your place tonight, Lenni; I insist on sharing your bed.”

  “Only if you promise to behave yourself.” Melanie arched a delicate eye brow, sipping her drink. “No making moves on your friend.”

  “Ah, come on,” Vanessa stuck out her lower lip, teasingly running her fingers along Melanie’s shirt collar and smiling provocatively. “Let a girl have some fun. Hey! I know; you can embark on a hot, passionate affair with me.”

  “And ruin a perfectly good friendship with sex?” Melanie shook her head in dismay, playing with the umbrella from her drink and twirling it in her fingers. Feigning regret, she heaved a sigh and looked at Vanessa, “It would never work; I’m completely straight.”

  “Well, as long as you don’t go back to Peter,” Frankie interjected randomly from out of the blue. As if that was even a possibility; both she and Peter were much happier apart than they ever were together.

  “You know, I always wanted what you and Peter had; I don’t understand why you broke up with him.” Vanessa’s slender shoulders slumped forward and she became oddly introspective; it was too early in the evening to be so maudlin. “He’s such a great guy and I’d fuck him in a heartbeat.”

  Melanie had to smile at that; Vanessa had always had a soft spot for Peter, who, unfortunately, thought very poorly of her. He had often told Melanie that he thought Vanessa was a promiscuous slut who was heading towards ruin; he just knew she was going to end up with a disease or something. Melanie would just shake her head and ignore him; Vanessa was a grown woman and she knew what she wanted and went after it with abandon. “It’d be okay with me if you guys went out, you know.”

  Frankie snorted, “Like Peter would go out with Ness after she’s slept with half of the guys in our high school class; he’s such a freaking prude.”

  Heightened color stained Vanessa’s cheeks as she straightened her spine and glared at Frankie, “I’ll have you know that….”

  Whatever Vanessa said was lost to Melanie as three of the most gorgeous men in the universe stalked into the bar; overwhelming the space with their presence. But it was the one in the middle, the golden one, that had Melanie rethinking her vow to keep her one night stands limited to gargoyles. He looked like an angel, with a face that was carved by a master and framed by a halo of dark gold hair. With harsh cheek bones that begged to be caressed and a straight nose that flared slightly as he looked at her, he reminded Melanie of a powerful lion. Slashes of dark gold formed his eye brows and his lips were full and luxurious; succulent lips that were eminently masculine and kissable; she wanted to feel them on her body….

  And he had a body that was absolute perfection: sleek, carved muscles that stretched around his bones; broad shoulders that were made for holding onto, a narrow waist for wrapping legs around. She drank him in, absorbing the raw masculinity that oozed from his every pore.

  Even though he dominated the room with his mere presence, he seemed strangely out of place, not quite a part of the world he commanded. His burnished gold hair was pulled back, giving his untamed nature the illusion of civility. Clothes that were tailor made for his hard body seemed wrong; he should be naked, always naked. There was something so familiar about him even though Melanie knew she had never met him before in her life; she would have remembered meeting someone like him. It was almost as if he had always existed and she was created for him.

  But that was ridiculous. If she were thinking straight, she would have realized sooner that he reminded her of the gargoyle she had fallen in love with the night before. And that was even more ridiculous; he was a man, the same as any other.

  She looked at his muscular body, his magnificent face and blushed slightly; perhaps not like any other man. He was hot, sweaty nights and long, sweltering days all wrapped up in one luscious package; he could make a woman purr with a single word, he could make her melt with a single look.


  He sat down at a table only a few feet away, his eyes slowly moving across her face. And he was looking at her as if he was starving and she was the feast. Her body reacted accordingly, preparing to be feasted upon.

  “Lenni,” Vanessa’s loud whisper poked at the edge of her thoughts. She knew she was staring but she was unable to help herself; he was divine. But it was more than his looks; his companions were just as handsome. Her gaze briefly touched on the two men sitting with him, taking in the dark expression of the black-haired man, the amused expression of the auburn haired man, before dismissing them. Her eyes returned to the golden man and while she tried not to stare, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  She had never had such an explosive reaction to anyone before; her body felt vibrantly alive and her skin was stretched too tight over her bones, her pulse was racing and her brain was re-wiring itself as she continued to stare. His gaze slammed into hers and the world around her disappeared and she lost herself in a sea of gold, losing her heart to a stranger.

  Of course, it wasn’t really her heart; a person didn’t fall in love at first sight – that was just a myth. Lust but not love and Melanie definitely lusted, she lusted painfully hard. If she didn’t get a drink, she was going to spontaneously combust right in the middle of the bar and they would be scooping pieces of her off the ceiling for days. It would ruin her perfectly lovely outfit.

  Grabbing Frankie’s wrist, she stood up, “Yeah, I think we should go dance; I love this song.”

  When her friend didn’t budge, Melanie turned her head and looked at her. Frankie was looking back as if she had grown a third eye, right in the middle of her forehead. “Lenni, you hate this song; I think you called it the worst piece of crap ever to be forced upon the unsuspecting masses.”

  Melanie paused, tilting her head to the side and actually listened to the song that was playing. Sappy, crappy, digitized vocal, pop torture. Cringing, she made a face, “Damn. I do hate this song. Maybe we could get a drink or two. Or six.”