Page 30 of Taken for Granite
“Join me! The water’s fine.” She lazily kicked her legs and moved her arms to stay afloat in one place.
Her gargoyle stood at the edge of the pier, his good wing outstretched and shaking.
“No,” Tas said bluntly.
“It’ll be fun.”
His glowering amped up a level, reaching new heights of disapproval.
Right. This gargoyle was not interested in fun.
Juniper took a breath and dipped under the water. Her foot brushed against the mossy bottom, and she pushed herself up toward the surface.
“Come out of the water. It is not safe,” he said, distress rising in his voice. His wing shook violently.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the water.”
His good wing snapped flat against his back, and his posture stiffened. Juniper kept her eyes on his face because his posture wasn’t the only thing that was stiff. An erection tented his sweatpants.
“I am not afraid,” he said.
“Then get in the water.” She sent a splash in his direction, knowing it would never reach him.
“No.”
“Then sit on the pier and dip your feet in.”
He huffed before lowering into a seated position. “I am only doing this in case you become distressed and need assistance.”
Ah. Her gargoyle wanted to play lifeguard. “That’s sweet.”
“It is practical.”
It really wasn’t, not from her point of view. She needed him a lot more than he needed her. He could fly off—okay, maybe not with a broken wing—but he could slip away in the night and leave her to deal with the Rose people on her own. If she showed up empty-handed, no gargoyle…
Yeah. It wouldn’t end well for her or Chloe. It was in her interest to keep the gargoyle happy.
Her eyes returned to his lap, his hard-on still prominent. Instinctively, she licked her lips.
Well, that was one way to make a gargoyle happy. She knew she should feel disgusted for thinking about sex as currency—good girls didn’t do that—but the idea didn’t disgust her.
And she wasn’t that good.
Tas hadn’t demanded sex as payment for helping her. Not yet. Probably never. Juniper suspected he might be clinging to some tattered sense of honor that would prohibit him from expressing his desire.
That was sweet, as sweet as him worrying about her swimming in the lake. She’d have to make the first move, and it didn’t seem like a hardship.
She floated on her back and kicked, sending herself away from the pier and the gargoyle. No hardship at all.
“Do not do that,” he growled.
“What? Swim?”
“Stay near the pier where I can reach you.”
She swam toward him, just to appease him and not because it made her feel all warm and mushy inside having the gargoyle worry about her safety.
Something brushed her leg and she yelped in surprise. Something more than weeds or seaweed or whatever lurked in a freshwater lake. Fish. Or a turtle. Did those things bite?
