Page 40 of Who Owns You?

“Get in and shut the door, please. I need to talk to you about that god-awful alarm,” I say softly.

To my surprise, the alpha gargoyle steps farther into the bathroom and whips out his tail to shut the door. The soft snick of the lock sliding into place makes my skin break out in goose bumps.

I’m alone with one of them, and we’re both naked.

“Hand me a towel, please.” I jut a hand out of the shower while my other hand flounders to turn off the spray of water.

Since the guys have revealed themselves, we’ve stocked this bathroom with all the necessary soft things, including bath mats and towels.

“Of course.” He drifts over to the linen rack and draws out a large, fluffy blue towel. He presses the fabric into my waiting hand as I finally turn off the water.

I pull the towel around myself and step onto the bath mat. Instantly, the difference in temperature makes me shiver, goose bumps becoming even more noticeable on my skin. I shift slightly and tuck my arms around my chest, giving my heavy breasts another layer of protection in addition to adding some extra security to my towel.

“Why did you have me shut the door, Charlotte?” Darius asks, his eyes shining with what can only be the magic insidehim. There’s no other possible way he could be so luminescent from the inside out.

“That alarm was horrible. It needs to be changed,” I say firmly.

“Easily done,” he says quickly, the agreement making me feel off balance.

“Oh, well, great,” I murmur, my hand drifting to my mouth, and I begin to chew on my nails.

“Is that it?” Darius asks, taking a step closer to me. The towel is warm from the heated rack, but nothing explains the waves of heat rolling off his body as he steps closer, not even magic. “I’ll do whatever I can to make you more comfortable.”

My breath catches, and I look up into the face of one of the four gargoyles who have made their way under my skin and are closing in on my heart like a deadly infection. My nose wrinkles a bit at the grotesque mental image, but I shake my head.

“I really can’t think of anything.”

“Not a single thing?” he asks slowly, every word feeling like a separate sentence.

His hands clench and unclench at his sides, and suddenly, warmth pools in my belly.

Fuck, I can only imagine what that movement would look like if he were more flesh than stone, all those delicious veins pressing to the surface of his skin. His perceived strength makes me a little lightheaded, and I sway softly.

“Charlotte.” Darius steadies me instantly, the discordant note of terror in his voice like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. “What’s wrong?”

“You and all your gargoyles are making my head hurt. You’re too attractive, and I’m way too mortal to deal with this,” I snap, clutching the towel tighter around my body.

It’s so damn stupid howsmallthis gargantuan desire for these monstrous men makes me feel.

He freezes before he laughs in my face. All the carefully fixed neutrality of his expression melts away. His laugh does something funny to my insides, and I can’t help but smile right back, a blush that has nothing to do with the steam taking over my entire face. Warmth, joy, and desire quickly overtake any fear that was lodged in my chest. I think I fall for him at that moment.

The light above us flickers, glowing like the midday sun before the bulb hisses and explodes. Glass rains down over the bathroom, and I scream. Darius scoops me up off the floor and tucks his tail over my legs.

He looks up in disbelief. “I didn’t do that.”

“I think I did,” I whisper, blood draining from my face.

Darius’ room is attached to his office. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I’m surprised he has a room at all—if gargoyles don’t actually need to sleep—but he’s surprising me more and more with every second we spend in each other’s company.

“Alright,” he says from where he kneels at my feet, holding one of said feet in his hands as he looks for glass. He strokes his thumb over my arch, and it makes my nipples tighten. “I got you off the floor before you could get cut.”

“I did tell you that, multiple times,” I grumble, folding my arms over my chest to hide the fact that his touch turns me on.

The sweater Darius gave me is gigantic, and his leather and old book scent wraps around me. I fight the urge to breathe deeply to take it all in.

“I just had to make sure.” He lowers my foot toward the floor, but it dangles a few inches above.

His bed frame is high, wrought iron, and thickly made, so of course I can’t touch the floor. They’re all massive, and even though I’m a few inches above average, they dwarf me.

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