Let Go My Gargoyle (Taming the Dragon Book 5)

by Tami Lund

  “Why did she abandon you? Where was your father?”

  “I’ve never told anyone this story before.”

  She reached out and laced her fingers with his. “Please tell me. I want to know. I want to understand you.”

  He lowered his arms but did not release her hands. His gaze on her face was so intense that her breath caught in her throat. “You understand me better than anyone else in my life ever has.”

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “My mother is human. I presume she did not know my father was a gargoyle. I’ve never met him. I have no idea who he is or if he is in this country or Canada or somewhere else entirely. Before you judge, you should know that it is not typical for gargoyles to engage in long-term relationships. Especially with a human. It is very likely that she was a fling, and he had no idea she was pregnant when he left.”

  “I’m not judging.”

  “Since I didn’t realize I was anything other than human, when my magic started to manifest, I did not understand what was going on. When I asked my mother about it, she panicked. She was convinced I’d been possessed by the devil. She took me to a church and left me there.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  He nodded, his gaze dropping to their clasped hands. “The church ran an orphanage, and it wasn’t a bad place, actually. Except I still didn’t have an answer to the magic coursing through my veins, and it was getting harder and harder to suppress it. As I’m sure you know, not using our magic is not really an option. Sooner or later, it’s going to show itself. It’s the nature of the beast.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  “Luckily, it was just me and one of the nuns the first time I shifted into my gargoyle form. She handled it better than my mother did, but she was also concerned for the other children’s safety. She was willing to accept what I was and believed that gargoyles were creatures created for the greater good, but she, of course, did not fully understand what it meant to have one in her care. So she told me I must hide my magic from all other humans, and then she took me to a social worker and asked that I be placed with a family that had no other children. And so I became a product of the human foster care system.”

  His shoulders drooped, and Sofia wanted so badly to hug him, to console him, to assure him that she did not think any less of him for having shared this story that her arms wrapped around him before she even fully realized what she was doing.

  His body stiffened for only a few seconds, and then he hugged her back. She sank into his warmth, and it felt so natural, as if this were something they did all the time.

  “Why did you say you were being selfish earlier?” she asked, her cheek resting against his chest.

  “You’re going to make me spell it out?”

  She lifted her head to look him in the face.

  He groaned. “I was attracted to you, Sofia. More attracted than I’ve been to another woman at any point I can remember. It wasn’t just that I sensed you were the right person to raise Penelope, it was…there was something else too.”

  “My dragon senses it too.” The beast wanted to feel his touch again, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  She glanced out the glass doors. Ketu and Antoinette were sitting on a cushioned bench in the gazebo while Henri and Penelope were on the swings, clearly trying to see who could kick the highest.

  “Oh yeah? What about you? What do you feel?”

  She blew out a steadying breath. “I’m beginning to think my dragon is right.”

  “That’s kind of sexy.”

  A giggle burst from her mouth. “Don’t get used to it. We tend to disagree on a lot of things.”

  “Except me.”

  “She was far more willing to get over the fact that you left us than I was.”

  He traced his finger along her hairline and down to her chin, and then pressed it against her lips. “I’m glad you’ve now come to a consensus.”

  She wanted to ask what would happen next. Was this another one-night stand? Would he leave again? Did they need to establish any sort of ground rules before proceeding?

  “You’re overthinking this,” he murmured against her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth.

  She clutched at his shirt as her knees buckled and a delicious shiver curled through her body. “Yes,” she said, her voice breathless, “I really am.”

  “Let me see if I can help curb that problem.”

  He kissed her neck and then nibbled his way across her cheek until he reached her lips. He threaded his hand in her hair, canted his head, and kissed her until she damn near forgot how to breathe.

  No, she was most certainly not overthinking now. In fact, her brain had ceased to work entirely.

  But her reflexes still understood how to bunch his shirt into her hands and tug it over his head. They knew how to scrape her nails down his torso, her fingers catching on each and every one of those sharply defined muscles.

  She liked the way he sucked in a breath and groaned.

  He twisted around and pressed her back against the wall, anchoring her there with his hips. She could feel the bulge behind his zipper and rotated her pelvis, trying to adjust her stance so that it rubbed against her most sensitive area.

  He groaned again and slid his hands down her body until he cupped her ass and then lifted her, spreading her legs at the same time, and then he rubbed against her again, his erection situated exactly where it felt best.

  Although it would feel a hell of a lot better if there weren’t any clothes between them. She wiggled and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He thrust, mimicking sex.

  Do that again.

  He did.

  Oh gods, had she said that out loud?

  She crossed her ankles behind his back, and then he caught the hem of her shirt and shoved it up and over her head. Staring down at her heaving breasts, he held them through her bra and thrummed the hardened nipples with his thumb.

  And thrust again.

  She let her head fall back against the wall. If he kept that up, she was going to orgasm without even fully undressing.

  “I think we need to get rid of these,” he said, slowly lowering her legs to the floor and then fiddling with the button on her pants.

  She pushed his hands away and expertly flicked open the clasp on her capris. “You do yours, I’ll do mine,” she suggested because that was the quickest way to get them both naked.

  When he was down to a pair of gray boxer briefs and she stood there in a bra and satin panties, she nodded at the outline of his erection. “Might as well go all the way.”

  “I like the way you think.” He shoved his boxers down his legs, slid his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and tugged them down too, dropping to his knees as he did it.

  He kneaded her ass cheeks and pressed kisses to her thighs, her hipbones, her belly, until her legs were visibly quaking and her hands were flat against the wall, helping to keep her in a standing position.

  Sliding his hand up the inside of her legs, he exerted the smallest amount of pressure on the inside of her thigh, and she shifted her feet apart, as wide as she could without tipping over.

  His head at waist level, he glanced up, gave her a saucy grin and a wink. She offered a wobbly smile in return and watched as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her pelvic bone, just above where her nerve endings were currently congregated and eager for him to move a tad lower.

  “Yes,” she said on a gasp as he licked her seam. “Oh yes, please, yes.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said, his mouth on her clit, the vibrations roaring through her entire body.

  She reached down and grasped his hair, holding his head in place. “Don’t stop.” The impending orgasm curled tighter and tighter inside her. A cry tore from her lips as her body felt as though it were lighting up like a firework, except instead of dissipating and falling back to earth, it just kept exploding, over and over until she was wrung out and limp. She gently pushed his head away so that she could
sink to the floor in front of him.

  He continued to kneel there, watching her, his stubble glistening from her arousal. “Magic lips,” she murmured, pressing a finger against them.

  He kissed the appendage and then chuckled. “Come here. I’m not done with you yet.”

  Reaching for her, he pulled her into his lap and twisted around until his back was against the wall and his legs were stretched out, with her straddling his thighs.

  “I expected no less, based on previous experience,” she assured him, and he laughed again before kissing her, threading his fingers in her hair and plundering her mouth until she was once again a quivering, quaking mess. Her dragon, who she thought had passed out after that first orgasm, was now rolling over onto her back, her legs spread into a highly inappropriate position.

  Without breaking the kiss, he reached around and unclasped her bra, slipped it off her arms, and then cupped her bare breasts. He bent and latched onto one of her nipples, suckling and licking like she tasted as sweet as nectar.

  She rotated her hips, rubbing against his erection, her arousal coating them both, the action twisting her insides once again into an impending climax.

  Abruptly, he settled his hands on her hips and pressed, pushing her down his legs a couple of inches. She gasped and stared at him, her chest heaving as much as his.

  “Condoms,” he managed between breaths. “In my bag.”

  She slid off his lap and crawled over to the dresser. “I suppose I should be grateful you’re so prepared.”

  When she returned with a foil packet in her hand, he snagged it, quickly sheathed himself, and pulled her back into his lap, settling her right where it felt the best and wiggling a little, obviously to make sure her body was still interested in these activities.

  She shivered in response.

  With one arm around her back, he tilted her chin up with the other one. “They’re always in my toiletry bag. This wasn’t planned.”

  She touched his face. “I know.”

  He pulled her close and hugged her, not moving, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder, their hearts beating in tandem. Even her dragon stopped acting like a wanton fool for a moment to enjoy the moment of pure intimacy.

  And then, slowly, they both began to move, coming together, ever closer, as he pushed into her, and they made love, leisurely, the pace almost painfully unhurried, yet so tender that Sofia could scarcely catch her breath.

  At least, until her orgasm overcame her, abruptly, with no warning, and she started to ride him like she’d lost her damn mind, and he clutched at her, keeping pace until he gave a shout and his body stiffened as he roared over the edge too.

  After a few moments, once they’d both returned to the physical plain, Sofia said, “Do you think we have time to do that again?”

  Chapter Eleven

  It was still true. Griffin liked sleeping in an actual bed. He also liked sharing that bed with a warm, soft woman.

  Okay, okay, it was also true that not just any woman would suffice.

  It had to be Sofia.

  He’d say that came out of nowhere, but he was a gargoyle and therefore couldn’t lie, even to himself. There had been a connection from the moment they met. That connection, that spark was the reason he’d gone against his better judgment and slept with her four years ago. Because he’d known, even as he kissed her, even as he stripped off her clothing, even as they connected in the most intimate way possible—he’d known that he had to leave her.

  This time it was different, and yet, really quite the same.

  Because he still had to leave her.

  He needed help. He couldn’t protect her by himself. These dual threats, warlocks and her brother, were too great. He’d promised her he would not divulge her secret, which meant he could not rely on the dragons alone to protect her. He had to go to Oliver. And once he did, his new boss would pull him off this assignment. Which meant he’d potentially not be able to contact Sofia again.

  But at least she’d be safe.

  That was far more important that his desire to stay in this bed and curl himself around her and hold her tightly while she slept.

  Gently extracting himself from the tangle of limbs they’d become once they’d moved to the bed, made love again, and then collapsed into semi-conscious heaps, he slid out from under the sheets, dressed, and stepped out of the room without waking her.

  The kitchen had one occupant, Maria, although she now wore actual clothing instead of a towel. Her slinky dress and high heels gave the impression that she was going out, although at the moment, she was mixing a drink at the kitchen counter.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, she glanced up, sniffed the air, and wrinkled her nose. “You smell like sex.”

  He did not respond.

  She turned around and leaned against the granite, lazily twirling the straw in her glass. “Too bad. Ever since Argyle started hanging around here, I’ve wondered what it would be like to sleep with a gargoyle. Unless, of course, you aren’t mated to the girl and she’s just a fling.” She arched her brows.

  He cleared his throat. “Not a fling, although no, we aren’t mated. And I’m not interested in what you’re offering.”

  She lifted one bare shoulder and took a sip of her drink. “So do tell. How in the world did you meet a little ole dragon woman working as a waitress at a bar that caters mostly to dragons?”

  “It’s a long story.” He glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if Antoinette and Ketu were still outside with the kids.

  “They’re upstairs,” Maria said dismissively. “Tell me the story.”

  “I’d rather not. If you’ll excuse—” She slid sideways until she was blocking his retreat back up the stairs.

  “Stay a while. Let’s get to know one another.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What’s your role here? Do you live here? Do you work here?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes and yes. I suppose I’m some sort of live-in butler. I answer the door, make drinks, do whatever other menial tasks Antoinette assigns to me, so long as they don’t involve breaking a nail.” She pretended to inspect her flawlessly painted, dark red nails.

  Based on what little he knew about Antoinette, this woman did not seem like someone she would hire to manage her household. He could not think of a way to politely point that out, so he said nothing at all.

  “So, you and the waitress. How did that happen?”

  “I’d rather not get into it.”

  “Fine. Where’s the kid fit in?”

  “Penelope?” he said, taken off guard by her abrupt question.

  “That’s her name? What is she?”

  “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

  She lifted one shoulder again. “I’m nosy. And bored. And fascinated by the fact that now, more often than not, we have gargoyles hanging around. Didn’t used to be that way. You guys were never involved in our business unless witches were also involved.” She glanced up the stairs. “The kid is a witch?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “And she calls Sofia Mommy. So who’s the daddy?” She eyed Griffin like she was waiting for him to strip out of his clothes. That look didn’t quite match her words, sending him off kilter again.

  “No one you would know.”

  “Oooh, so Little Miss Sunshine had an affair and ended up pregnant, huh?”

  “That isn’t the case. Now if you’ll—” He reached out his arm to bodily move her out of his way and caught sight of someone standing at the top of the stairs.

  The late afternoon light cast her body into shadows, yet Griffin was certain he would recognize Sofia’s presence anywhere, any way. Almost as if they were connected somehow. Which was odd because while the sex had been off the charts and, yes, he certainly felt things that, as a gargoyle, he wasn’t supposed to feel, none of that equated any sort of sensation of a metaphysical connection.

  Sofia hesitantly placed a bare foot on the next step, and Maria smiled broadly at G
riffin and said, “Ta-ta,” and trotted away toward the front of the house.

  When Sofia reached the bottom of the stairs, she blew out a breath and said, “I’m glad she left.”

  He didn’t bother asking why. From his limited interactions with Maria, Griffin could guess that she did not have many girlfriends and was seeking something she’d likely never find by having affairs with men. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if she had a tendency to sleep with men who were supposed to be in committed relationships with their significant others.

  Instead, he said, “It’s almost dusk.”

  Sofia glanced toward the row of glass doors leading out into the backyard. Long shadows stretched across the smooth, wood floor, extending their reach even as Griffin and Sofia stood there and watched.

  “Where’s Penelope?” Sofia asked.

  “Maria said she’s upstairs with Ketu and Antoinette and Henri.”

  “She and Henri have really taken to one another, haven’t they?” Sofia’s voice had gone soft and a wistful smile played at her lips.

  He touched her arm. “It may be possible to maintain a relationship with them once we’ve determined the best way to keep you both safe.” Which was a funny thing to say considering he did not expect he would be able to do the same thing.

  She was already shaking her head before he even finished the sentence. He threaded his fingers in her hair and cupped her face.

  “Sofia, listen to me. Antoinette is going to find Darius, and she is going to punish him in whatever way dragons exact punishment. And when that happens, he will no longer be a threat to you. This contract will be null and void. You will be able to live your life however you choose.”

  “It’s way more complicated than that.”

  Griffin stared at her. “Do you want him to know?”

  “Who?”

  “Trennon. Do you want him to know…about you?”

  Her eyes widened and her entire body trembled.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “I support you in whatever decision you make.”