Stone Destiny (Stone Passion #3)

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Stone Destiny (Stone Passion #3) Page 5

by Warneke, A. C.


  “Don’t you think it would be worth giving up your nights again to have the chance of spending time in the sun as a man?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, trying not to get distracted by the muscled stone gargoyle, trying to keep her hands to herself.

  “The risk is too great,” he said softly, holding her eyes as he spoke. “Most humans wouldn't survive drinking the blood of Medusa and the blood is what makes it possible for Vaughn to walk beneath the sun.”

  “But it also lets them have children,” she persisted, wanting some indication that he might be willing to take a chance, some day. “Don’t you want…”

  Suddenly he laughed, his massive shoulders heaving, “Let it go, Fer. It’s simply not going to happen. Now, go inside and get some sleep.”

  The overwhelming urge to climb into his lap and sleep in his arms filled her and she remained rooted to the spot, unable to walk away, unable to give in to her desire. When she had been a little girl, she had climbed into his lap all of the time, using him as her own personal jungle gym as she told him about her day. But when she turned sixteen or seventeen, around the time she realized she was in love with him, she stopped touching him altogether when he was in his gargoyle form. At first she didn’t touch him because she knew how foolish it was to love Armand. And then it became a habit to keep her distance during the day when it would have been so easy to let her guard down.

  Now, the urge to touch him was irresistible and, almost hesitantly, she lightly ran her hand down the middle of his back, between his wings. The stone flesh was so warm beneath her palm and she pressed harder, loving the feel of his hard muscles. Through half-lowered lids she saw a shimmer, and her heart kicked up its pace in her chest.

  Without warning, his body stiffened and his wings thrust outwards, expanding to their full span and quivering as if they were made of feathers and not stone. His head whipped around and his gray eyes bore into her, hard with accusation and bewilderment, “What the fuck was that?”

  She snatched her hand back and held it against her chest, staring at Armand’s face in wide-eyed fascination and shock. Her eyes dipped down and the hidden penis was no longer hidden. It stood out proudly between his thighs, lengthening and thickening as she watched. Slowly, she reached out her hand to touch the swollen stone only to have her fingers slapped away by a hand with deadly looking talons for nails. Letting out a surprised yelp at the painless but unexpected rebuke, she faltered a step backwards as her eyes flew to his face.

  Warning and something slightly dangerous burned in his piercing, gray stone eyes and she was unable to look away. She didn’t see the lethal beak or the gray stone or the magnificent wings, she simply saw Armand. Her lips spoke his name but no sound came out. Silence surrounded them, shutting out the world until all that remained was her and the gargoyle. Still holding his eyes, she tentatively, carefully, reached out her hand, as if any quick movement on her part would spook him.

  Her fingertips brushed the tip of his stone erection, slowly moving across the blistering hot surface. His chest rose and fell with each panted breath he took and his eyes squeezed shut in tortured pleasure as his beak fell open. A warm talon covered her hand, holding it in place.

  The sound of heavy footsteps intruded into the bubble that had been surrounding them, bursting it and bringing them crashing back to reality. Just as the door swung open, she jumped backwards as Armand shifted to hide the state of his stone body.

  Tearing her gaze from his, Ferris watched as two hulking gargoyles stepped out onto the roof: Vaughn in his lion gargoyle form and Rhys in his monkey form. They were laughing about whatever they had been talking about, oblivious to the cataclysmic event that had just happened. She forced a smile to her trembling lips and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t close to bursting apart in her chest. “Hey, you two are later than usual. Where are the three terrors?”

  “They’ll be up soon,” Rhys answered, his monkey face in a perpetual grin as he stepped up onto the edge and squatted down. “We were helping Melanie with the baby and things got a little out of hand.”

  “Uh oh,” Ferris grinned, unable to imagine what sorts of mischief the three younger gargoyles could get into since her brain was stuck on Armand. “That can’t be good.”

  Rhys smirked, clapping Vaughn on the back as the lion squatted down next to him, “It kept Vaughn from remaining human for the day.”

  “Yeah, nothing like hearing, ‘Oh, shit! Get the baby down from the chandelier,’ to kill a wife’s mood,” Vaughn said, shaking his head in amused frustration. “Melanie’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she scrambled off the bed and ran into the fray without thinking twice. I had to chase after her with her robe. Luckily I managed to get her covered before she got out of the room.”

  “Yeah, but you gave us all quite the eye full when you stormed out after her,” Rhys chuckled. “Jenna was kind enough to point out that she would be able to tell we were brothers even if our heads were covered.”

  Ferris blushed, understanding what similarity Rhys was referring to. Her eyes flicked back to Armand but he stood there, unmoving, the formidable Armand once again. Powerlessly, her eyes dropped to his waist, knowing what she wasn’t going to see since his stone erection was safely hidden away once again. She thought it was so cool how he did that.

  Rhys’s chuckle interrupted her wayward thoughts and her head whipped around to discover that he had seen where her gaze had been. “He’s definitely our brother, too, Ferris.”

  “I didn’t… I wasn’t....” she stammered, feeling the prickly heat spreading upwards along her neck and into her cheeks. “I mean….”

  “Leave her be,” Armand growled, staring straight ahead and not looking at any of them. “She’s too young for you to be teasing her like that.”

  Was it her imagination or did he over-emphasize the word young? Shooting a frown at Armand before smiling at Vaughn, she asked, “Will Alex be joining you guys up here today?”

  “Yeah,” Vaughn beamed, a father’s pride apparent in his expression even in his stone form. Alex had been the most adorable little lion cub gargoyle imaginable, with the exception of his little sister, who was equally adorable. But now that he was a teenager he was becoming a very handsome young gargoyle, nearly the spitting image of his gorgeous father with one exception: he had Melanie’s summer sky blue eyes. “He's getting too big to be able to fly inside but he’s still small enough to spread his wings a bit out here.”

  “Uh oh,” Rhys chuckled. “That means Lenni will be up here, too, freaking out.”

  “She’s getting better,” Vaughn protested feebly. In truth, Melanie had never gotten over her fear of heights. She barely tolerated flying with Vaughn and that was only because she loved him to distraction and utterly trusted him. It had to be nerve-wracking to be the mother of children who could fly at will, at least while they were in their gargoyle form.

  “She covers her eyes with her hands and can barely watch,” Rhys snorted. “What is she going to do when Georgie wants to come up here and fly?”

  Vaughn’s brows pulled together over his broad snout and he scowled, “My daughter just barely turned one….”

  “And she’s flying up into the rafters when we can’t change into our gargoyle forms to bring her down,” Rhys said, obviously referencing the disaster that kept Vaughn from remaining human for the day. Arching an eyebrow, he smiled wider, “Didn’t you hear her giggles? She was quite pleased with herself for her daring escape.”

  Ferris could easily imagine the adventurous little girl getting into all sorts of trouble, especially with a pack of imps ready and eager to assist her in any way. Looping her arm through Rhys’s, she grinned at her mother’s mate, “You’ll have to have a baby as soon as possible so Georgia has a playmate close to her own age.”

  Rhys waggled his eyebrows at Ferris, grinning lasciviously for a stone monkey, “I plan on getting your mom pregnant the first chance I get. I’m looking forward to having a pack of little monkeys of my own.”r />
  “Literally,” Ferris grinned, standing up on her toes and giving the stone monkey a kiss on his cheek. Rocking back on her heels, she stifled a yawn as she headed for the exit, taking the route that led past Armand. “I’ve got to get going. I have class in an hour and I should grab a bite to eat before I go.”

  Automatically, her eyes went to the stern gargoyle griffin who was scowling at her. He growled, “You should get some sleep, you were up all night painting.”

  She smiled slightly at the concern in his voice, “I’m fine. I’ll grab some coffee before class.”

  “Ferris,” he warned.

  “Seriously,” she countered calmly even as her heart was picking up speed once again. Running her hand along his arm as she strolled past, she didn’t miss his sharp intake of breath and she grinned, “I’ll be fine.”

  His scowl turned ferocious a split second before he jerked his head away from her, making her chuckle softly. Waving her hand at Vaughn, she opened the door and was nearly bowled over by a white lion gargoyle, a panther gargoyle and a liger gargoyle. The trinity of terror had arrived.

  Leo grabbed her arms to keep her steady, his massive form towering over the other huge gargoyles by at least a foot. The liger’s face grimaced as he asked, “Are you okay, Fer?”

  “Of course I am,” she assured him. Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder and saw that Armand’s back was ramrod straight and his talons were curled into tight fists. A soft smile curved her lips at the concern radiating off him in waves, filling her belly with a warm glow and letting her hope take flight. "But I don't want to be late so I'm saying goodbye."

  With that, she slipped out the door, allowing the little kernel of hope to take root in her heart.

  “The three of you should be more careful,” Armand scolded as soon as Ferris disappeared through the door. He could still feel the electricity of her touch and that scared the ever living shit out of him. He shouldn’t have been able to feel her touch. “You almost trampled Ferris and then I’d have to take a chisel to you on Jenna’s behalf for hurting her daughter.”

  Michael threw his head back and laughed, “Ferris is a tough, little bird, Armand, not some hot house flower that has to be protected.”

  “She’s still human,” Armand bit out, struggling to keep from punching his younger brother in the face and wondering where this animosity was coming from. The three younger gargoyles had always included Ferris in their boisterous play so he didn’t know why the thought of them rough-housing with Ferris suddenly annoyed him. And yes, damn it, she did need to be protected! She was too inquisitive by half, too sensual.

  No, he couldn’t allow himself to think of Ferris – of Ferris – being anything other than Jenna’s precocious daughter who had been creating chaos in his life from the moment she entered it. The only reason his gargoyle body responded to her touch, the only reason he was able to feel it, was because it had been too long since he had buried himself in the warm and lovely flesh of a luscious woman, a woman that was not Ferris.

  Turning his head, he caught Raphe staring at him, as if the young gargoyle could see the truth Armand wouldn’t acknowledge.

  “She’s a human surrounded by and protected by magic,” the little shit said solemnly. “Even the imps tolerate her and they hate everyone. It’s a safe bet that she’s the safest of anyone.”

  Armand snorted with disbelief. Hadn’t the foolish girl stayed up all night talking and laughing with him as she painted and then flitted off to class on no sleep? Someone needed to take care of her before she did something stupid and got herself hurt. “She’s impulsive and reckless.”

  Vaughn and Rhys turned their heads and looked at him as if he had gone mad, an impressive feat for a gargoyle. Rhys cleared his throat, “Are you sure you’re talking about Ferris? Our Ferris? She plots out everything.”

  “She’s too clever by half, Armand,” Leo chuckled,” Everything she does is for a reason.”

  That was precisely what worried him. His entire world was in flux and he no longer knew where he belonged. The last thing he needed was a silly little girl thinking she was in love with him. He was just going to have to discourage her somehow.

  Chapter 4

  Retreat and Surrender

  She was purposely driving him insane, that was the only explanation. Armand was finding it increasingly difficult trying to remember that the Ferris he thought he knew and this new Ferris was the same girl and both were completely off limits to him. Ever since she touched him as a gargoyle and he felt the electric current throughout his entire body he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, wondering what it would be like to taste her sweet lips, touch her soft curves. He spent too much of his time with her imagining many different scenarios, all ending with them naked on the floor. When he wasn't being a horny bastard, he was laughing with her as she talked about mundane things in the most entertaining of ways.

  He loved watching her, the graceful way she moved as she painted, her passionate expression as she concentrated on putting the colors on the canvas, her smile. The studio had become their private escape where the line between right and wrong was erased. He knew it was wrong to desire her, he knew it was wrong to fantasize about her and to plot her seduction, but in this place he knew he was going to have her. At least in his fantasies.

  For the past couple of days he had spent his time beneath the sun contemplating the wonder that was Ferris and he discovered that he missed her when she wasn't with him. He was always eager to return to her studio just to be with her. When he was with her he felt… good and realized that ever since she was little she had the uncanny ability of dragging him out of his shell. How could he risk the friendship they shared with something as meaningless as sex, no matter how provocative her lips, her touch? He had to remind himself that she was an innocent and most likely unaware of her profound effect on his body and his psyche.

  It was not something he wanted to dwell upon since he couldn’t offer her what she deserved. And if he gave her the only thing he could – a few hours of sex – she would hate him. Yet he realized that if she kept looking at him with those blue-green eyes and smiling that sweet, temptress smile, he was going to kiss those lips and see her eyes glaze with passion.

  Ferris studied the image coming together before her, tilting her head to the side to see if she had captured Armand’s sensuality as strongly as he exuded it. She had decided to paint him as a warrior returning home from battle, his clothes filthy and torn and barely hanging onto his muscled body. The shredded material emphasized the strength and power of his nearly naked form, giving a tantalizing hint of the delectable length and width of his penis, which was barely covered by a scrap of torn fabric. It wasn't exactly the project her art teacher assigned but there was no way she was going to share a completely nude Armand with her classmates.

  In the painting, he was weary, but deep and abiding passion burned in his green gaze as he looked out of the canvas and into the eyes of his lover. The lucky woman was going to be locked up for a week with her returning hero, being pleasured to within an inch of her life.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to share the portrait with anyone. It was so personal and anyone who looked at it would know how much she loved the model. Every line, every brush stroke, was painstakingly, lovingly created, capturing only a fragment of what made Armand so magnetic, the indescribable element that was simply Armand. No one was going to believe that he existed in real life or that he was even more devastating than any painting.

  Slathering some light blue paint onto her brush, she lifted her hand and paused, not wanting to finish up the background just yet. She could do that when she didn’t have a nearly naked Armand sitting a few feet away with only a few hours left of their time together. Frustrated and dejected, she no longer knew what to do. God knows she had spent the last couple of nights trying to figure out a new plan to crack Armand’s shell since it was obvious having him sitting naked in her studio wasn’t working.

&nb
sp; She couldn’t fault her efforts: she had put her time in the studio with Armand to good use, touching him frequently, adjusting the privacy cloth and letting her hand linger on his thigh a heartbeat longer than strictly necessary, playing sensual music that boiled the blood and enhanced the mood. Every evening she felt his response to her in her bones. He watched her with eyes that glowed with greater and greater hunger and yet he kept his distance, acting as if he didn’t desire her. It was even worse after the brief encounter on the roof because it took nearly twice as long to break down the wall he erected every day. Though by the end of each night they were talking and laughing as effortlessly as old friends.

  Friends. She hated that word. She didn’t want to be his damn friend. She wanted to be his everything, the way he was her everything. It was blatantly obvious that he desired her: no amount of material could hide the impressive erection that seemed to have taken up permanent residence between his hard thighs. Why was he so reluctant to give in to the passion that practically singed the flesh from her bones every time she was near him?

  She knew why: she was still a virgin and he was a sex master. What chance did she really have? Innocence only went so far in a world where he had experienced everything, including innocence. Maybe she should have played coy, been the coquette, acting like a petrified virgin instead of blatantly pursuing him with everything in her arsenal. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t in her nature to go after something she wanted half-heartedly once she put her mind to it. And she had never wanted anything as much as she wanted Armand, even if she had fought her own attraction for years.

  “Are you finished?” he asked, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

  Heaving a sigh, she pursed her lips and took a step back and glanced between the painting and the model. There was something missing but she couldn’t quite figure out what. With a shrug of her shoulders, she returned her gaze to Armand, “For now.”

 

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