Page 31 of Taken for Granite
It brushed against her again. She shouted and slapped at the surface of the lake. What was that? An otter? But otters were cute. A beaver? Those things were monsters, all teeth and chomping—and it wanted a bite of her.
“Juniper?” Tas paced at the end of the pier.
The murder beaver touched her again. Juniper screamed.
“Juniper!” Tas hurled himself off the pier and splashed into the lake. “Do not panic!” He thrashed in the water, making swift progress toward her. His arms wrapped around her and his legs kicked out, treading in place.
“I have you,” he said. With an arm hooked under hers, he pulled her back to the pier. His good wing beat the surface of the water, splashing onto her face.
She sputtered, lake water in her nose and eyes. “You actually can swim.”
“Of course I can swim,” he muttered. “I do not enjoy it.”
“But you jumped in.” She hooked her arms around his neck.
“You were in distress.” His tone implied Juniper was a bit slow for not understanding that her safety came first. The remarkably sweet sentiment, coming from such a sour old grump, caught her by surprise.
Juniper became very aware of their bodies pressed together, nothing between them but water. A few minutes ago she had been calculating how to seduce a chivalrous gargoyle. The idea of sex had been clinical and cool, an exchange to be made. Now, real desire coiled tight in her gut, and she wanted to feel him everywhere. Inside her, deep in her aching core.
His short, wet hair plastered to his skull made his horns appear larger. Droplets clung to his eyelashes. Juniper’s gaze kept returning to his lips, full and stained the color of crushed blackberries.
“My hero,” she said. “You’re always so hard. Is it for me?” She brushed her thigh against his hard cock, wrapping her legs around his waist.
She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to those lips. Tas tensed but did not move. She paused, waiting for him to say no before she came back. Her lips moved against his, eliciting no reaction. This was terrible. Worse than kissing a statue because this was a living, breathing person who was not enjoying himself.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away. A blush burned hot and fierce on her face. What was she thinking, kissing the gargoyle? Completely embarrassing. The only worse blunder would have been if she grabbed his dick and gave it a tug. He was uncomfortable, and here she was kissing him like they were having a moment. “I should have asked.”
She swam toward the ladder and hauled herself up. Tas collapsed next to her. Using the towel she brought from the cabin, she dried her face before handing it to the gargoyle.
“Dry yourself,” he said.
“Your pants are soaked. At least my clothes are dry.”
He sat straighter and his hands flexed, as if remembering how he held onto her just moments ago. “You are nude.”
“Gotta be to go skinny dipping.” She dried her arms and chest quickly before slipping on her shirt. Long strands of her wet hair caught under the collar. “Thanks for jumping in, by the way.” She hadn’t been in any real distress, but it was sweet the way he jumped in when he clearly disliked the water. Then she had to ruin it—
Ugh. Juniper buried her face in her hands.
“I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone,” he said, frost in his voice.
“Oh, um, fine. I wasn’t trying to bother you.” Just kiss him and hold onto him, buck ass naked, like he had some obligation to reciprocate. She misjudged the signals. He had a hard-onall the timearound her. That seemed a pretty obvious signal to her but, clearly, she was wrong. He just stood there like stone under her touch, and she felt only disgust with herself.
He stood abruptly and took a few steps before stopping and turning toward her. “My concern was only for your safety. Our ship crashed into the Atlantic. I survived because I can swim. Those who could not, drowned,” he said, before leaving her alone on the pier.
11
Tas
Tas did not return to the cabin when night fell. He could not be near her, not when she gleefully wrapped her legs around him and kissed him, making her desire known. It took all his willpower not to moan into her mouth. His people did not press their mouths together as a sign of affection or as part of mating, not like humans. Their fangs got in the way. Obviously, he should not have enjoyed the kiss. Or wanted more.
Curiosity kept him from retreating. Nothing more. He had observed plenty of kisses. Humans in their crowded cities were remarkably bold about their mating. At night, half-hidden in dark alley, he’d witnessed many couplings with the cool, removed interest of an anthropologist studying the local habits.
He certainly never wanted to try a human-style kiss, and he certainly did not want to kiss Juniper.
He didn’t want to desire a human, but his body craved her like he craved the wind. She was likely a Syndicate agent. The situation was a trap. And yet he found it harder and harder to convince himself that was the case.
Groaning with frustration, he stayed under the stars and slept in the grass. He dreamed of Juniper, a female with indistinct features but he knew it was her, and she had her mouth around his cock, lips full and red. She looked up at him, eyes as brilliant as starlight and filled with devotion. He woke, coming all over his stomach.
