Extra Virgin Gargoyle

MONSTER BETWEEN THE SHEETS

HONEY PHILLIPS

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other Titles

About the Author

One

A ngie pushed her glasses up her nose as she studied the book shop she’d inherited from her grandmother. The converted Victorian row house looked as cheerful and welcoming as ever. The gold paint of the The Best Little Bookhouse sign sparkled in the morning sunlight, and the colorful display in the big bay window caught the eye.

She had deliberately chosen a display of science-fiction romances hoping that the vibrant colors and the variety of alien features would appeal to the residents of Screaming Woods. Stars and planets dangled over the books, and she’d even added a quirky light fixture that showed a cow being beamed up into a hovering UFO.

It hadn’t made any difference. She hadn’t seen any of the townspeople even stop to look at the eye-catching display, let alone enter the store. It’s just a matter of time, she told herself, fighting back the feeling of despair. She was a naturally optimistic person and always tried to look for the bright side, but after three unsuccessful months in Screaming Woods, the bright side was getting hard to find.

Sighing, she picked up the big old-fashioned watering can she’d found in the supply room and finished watering the new pansies she had just planted. Her grandmother had always kept a colorful array of seasonal flowers in the big urns to either side of the door, and she was determined to keep up the tradition.

That task completed, she sat down on the bench next to the door and picked up her pumpkin latte, sipping it thoughtfully as she looked out at the rest of the town. In many ways Screaming Woods was the quintessential American small town. The wide Main Street was lined with a variety of small independent stores, most housed in former residential buildings. The street led to a town square surrounded by larger civic buildings in a simple classical style. The giant oaks that had been planted when the town was founded were already donning their fall colors.

“Good morning, Ursula,” she called as the owner of the bath and candle shop next door passed by, but the witch simply gave her a disgruntled sniff.

Angie wasn’t being unkind. Ursula actually was a witch—complete with green skin, long dark hair, and an ever-present broom. And that was the difference between Screaming Woods and every other small town in the country.

A passing stranger might suppose they had come upon the town during a Halloween festival given the strange mixture of inhabitants, but it wasn’t a festival and they weren’t costumes. Something had happened to the town during a Halloween Incident fifteen years ago. Many of the residents had been transformed from normal humans to magical creatures—usually of the monstrous variety.

Most of those who were unchanged had left the town and never returned. The town sank into obscurity, becoming the source of whispered horror stories, even though the remaining residents learned to adjust to their new appearance and resumed their normal lives. Eventually the growth of the nearby city meant that the undeniably attractive little town began to attract new residents—ones who were curious and intrigued rather than afraid of the obvious differences. However, the original inhabitants—the ones who stayed after the Incident—were not always as welcoming to the newcomers.

And especially not to me, she thought despondently as she finished her coffee and returned to the empty shop, breathing in the familiar scent of paper and old books and the lingering fragrance of the scented candles her grandmother loved to burn. Her father had always been outraged by the candles.

“What kind of fool has open flames in a building filled with flammable material?” he would demand, scowling.

Gran would just laugh and ignore him.

“I like the way they smell,” she’d say firmly.

As Angie lit a cinnamon candle by the old-fashioned cash register, she could almost see Gran saying it. Her blue eyes, so like Angie’s, would be twinkling with amusement as one of her signature scarves floated dangerously near the candle. In addition to the flowing scarves, Gran had a preference for mismatched florals and an abundance of tinkling jewelry. Angie had always found it hard to believe that her mother with her tailored, classic clothes and discreet strand of pearls could possibly be her daughter.

Her eyes threatened to fill with tears at the memory, but she took a deep breath, taking comfort in the familiar presence of the shop. She’d always loved it here—loved the walls lined with shelves and the overstuffed chairs tucked in every possible nook. Loved the big sunny front room and the warren of overflowing bookcases in the former back parlor. Loved the big kitchen at the rear that was stacked with more books and hung with drying flowers and herbs.

Her grandmother’s rooms on the second floor were equally as quirky and cluttered and welcoming. She’d spent every summer vacation with her grandmother, and it had always been a magical experience. She looked forward to it every year—to the escape from her father’s rules and her mother’s blandness, to the quirky little town, and to her grandmother’s independent spirit.

The summer she was twelve, everything had changed. Her mother had sat her down in their bland beige living room and gently told her that she wouldn’t be going to visit her grandmother that year.

“I don’t understand. Why not?”

Her mother gave her father an uncertain look.

“Because she’s gone,” he said bluntly.

“No, she can’t be,” she cried, looking desperately at her mother.

“John,” her mother whispered, and he shook his head.

“There’s no use pretending otherwise. She’s lost to us now.”

A tear slipped down her mother’s cheek, and Angie started to cry. Her father quickly forbade all mention of her grandmother, and her fascinating summers with her grandmother were replaced by a series of summer camps—writing camps and art camps, and even one rather disastrous computer camp. But every summer, she always found herself remembering her grandmother and wishing things had been different.

Even without the visits, her grandmother’s influence lingered. The love of books Angie had learned from her led to her degree in library science—a decision her father had strongly opposed.

With some justification, she thought wryly. Jobs were few and far between—especially ones that provided enough income both to live on and to repay her student loans. She’d been working a temporary job as an administrative assistant when she received a letter from a lawyer in Screaming Woods. She’d started to call her mother, but something had held her back and she’d made the appointment to meet with the lawyer without letting her parents know.

That was when she’d found out that her parents had lied to her. Her grandmother hadn’t died fifteen years ago. She died that past year, and she’d left everything to Angie. The sense of betrayal was almost unbearable. She didn’t always get on with her parents, but she loved them and she thought that they loved her. How could they have done that to her?

She’d packed up her bags, quit her job, and headed for Screaming Woods that day—only to discover just how much the town she remembered had changed. The first time she’d almost run into an orc, she’d barely managed not to scream. And when an invisible hand offered her a cup of coffee, she could understand why her parents couldn’t handle the changes—but it had still been wrong for them to keep her from her grandmother. She would have loved her no matter how she looked.

Now she was determined to keep the shop up and running in memory of her grandmother—but she was beginning to wonder if it was possible. Not a single inhabitant of Screaming Woods had entered the shop in the entire time she’d been back. A few tourists had come by and she’d had a couple of online orders, but that was all. The savings her grandmother had also left her were quickly diminishing.

Oh, Gran. What am I going to do?

Have a nice cup of tea.

Angie could almost hear her grandmother saying that—it had been Gran’s solution to almost every problem—and she found herself smiling as she headed back to the kitchen.

As she poured the tea into one of the mismatched floral teacups, she heard a plaintive meow from outside the door and more guilt washed over her. Cruickshank was her grandmother’s cat—but Angie was allergic to cats. One of her neighbors had taken him, but the cat hadn’t accepted the change and he still showed up at the back door every day.

Even though she knew it was a mistake, she popped open a can of tuna and carried it out into the small garden, barely managing to keep him from entering the kitchen. He gave it a disdainful sniff, then stared at her with big, green eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that! You know I would have let you stay if I could.”

She’d really tried, but after a week of watery eyes and a runny nose and waking up gasping for air, she’d had to admit defeat.

Cruickshank kept that unnerving stare fixed on her for a moment longer before turning his attention to the tuna, and she sighed. A gust of wind swept through the big tree that dominated the garden, and a few colorful leaves swirled to the ground.

Suddenly restless, she looked up at the brilliant blue sky and made a decision. It was Sunday morning—too early for even the limited amount of tourist traffic that somehow found its way to Screaming Woods.

“I’m going to close the shop and go for a walk,” she announced.

Cruickshank slanted her a disapproving look but kept his attention on his tuna. She laughed, already feeling better.

“Some fresh air will be just the thing to clear my head. And then I’ll come up with a plan to make this shop succeed.”

Filled with renewed optimism, she dared to bend down and run her hand over Cruickshank’s silky black fur—and immediately started to sneeze. He gave her another reproachful look as she hurried inside to wash her hands and change.

One of the advantages of a small town was how quickly you were in the country. A short time later she was in the woods surrounding the town. They were as beautiful as she remembered. The brilliant colors of fall adorned the trees as she happily followed the mossy bank next to a small stream. It seemed vaguely familiar to her, and she thought that she and Gran had picnicked somewhere along the stream. She was searching for the spot when she spied a cluster of small white flowers growing from a half-dead trunk arching over the water.

Intrigued, she started to climb up the trunk, trying to get close enough to make out the details. The trunk was narrower and the flowers farther away than they’d seemed from below, but she refused to give up.

“Don’t touch them!”

The deep voice emerging from the shadows under the trees startled her so much that she lost her balance. Her arms waved wildly, but it was too late. She braced herself, already anticipating the collision with the ground, but instead two huge, muscular arms closed around her, holding her tightly against an even more muscular chest. There was an odd floating feeling, and then she was on her feet on the ground as her rescuer stepped back.

“Thank you,” she began gratefully. “I really thought I was going to—”

Her mouth dropped open as she got her first good look at her rescuer. He was huge—and definitely not human. Tight dark pants clung to strong thighs, but his chest was bare, showcasing every well-defined muscle, and enormous bat-like wings with hooked tips rose over broad shoulders. Thick, dark hair flowed back from a remarkably handsome face, but it didn’t hide the small horns atop his head. His eyes glowed with an eerie green light, a striking contrast to his silvery grey skin.

A gargoyle. She had been rescued by a gargoyle—and the most handsome male she had ever seen.

Two

A lastair stared down at the small woman who had strayed into his woods. Her pale skin and golden curls seemed to glow in the sunlight that slanted through the trees. Big blue eyes sparkled up at him from behind black-rimmed glasses, and a friendly smile curved pretty pink lips. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d had the pleasure of holding that deliciously curvy body against his, he would have thought she was an enchanted vision.

His body had no doubt about her reality. His shaft had hardened from just that brief contact, and her sweet floral fragrance filled his head.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, trying not to wince at how harsh he sounded.

Her warm smile dimmed.

“I was just exploring.”

“You were going to pick the Isotria medeoloides.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she said immediately. “I was just looking at it.”

“It’s a protected species. You were too close to it.”

Her smile vanished completely as she frowned up at him. He couldn’t help noticing that it was an adorable frown, but she didn’t belong here. She was not one of the cursed inhabitants of Screaming Woods. He was actually surprised that she wasn’t already fleeing in terror, but perhaps she was one of the new wave of tourists who were invading their town.

“This is private property,” he said firmly, determined to send her on her way.

She crossed her arms over her chest, which brought the already large swell of her breasts to even greater prominence. His shaft responded to the enticing sight, pressing against the tight confines of his pants, and he prayed she didn’t look down.

“How was I supposed to know this is private property? I didn’t see any signs.”

“They’re posted all along the highway.”

“Then that explains it. I didn’t come that way. I came from town, and there weren’t any signs on Elm Street.” She smiled at him triumphantly. “So I really didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Ignorance of the law is no excuse.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I actually broke the law.”

“Trespassing is breaking the law.”

“It is? Oh.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I hurt anything. I was just trying to look at those flowers. They’re so beautiful.”

Her obvious appreciation lessened his annoyance, but he needed to make sure she understood the importance of the plant.

“Its appearance is not its most significant aspect. The leaves have properties which may be useful in curing certain medical conditions.”

“Really?” She sounded almost disappointed.

“This bothers you?”

“I’m sure it’s very nice that it’s useful, but sometimes things can be valuable just because they’re beautiful. Everything doesn’t have to have a use.”

She bent down to brush off her knees, and he quickly jerked his eyes away from the tempting glimpse of cleavage she revealed.

“I suppose I’d better be getting back to town.”

He realized it was the second time she had mentioned the town.

“Are you visiting Screaming Woods?”

“Oh, no, I live here.”

“You live here?”

“Yes.” Her smile trembled a little, but then she nodded firmly. “I live here. So maybe I’ll see you later.”

She gave him a cheerful wave and headed back down beside the stream, her impractical little dress floating around that lush, curvy body.

She lived here? That meant that he could see her again.

No, he reminded himself. There was a reason he had chosen solitude. Even if she were here now, she wouldn’t stay long. Time to get back to work.

Two hours later, he swore as the tip of his wings got caught in the stack of papers for the third time and he shoved impatiently at his desk. It immediately went flying, smacking against the wall and making even more of a mess as books and papers scattered to the floor.

Damn. He was acting as clumsily as he had in that first year after the Incident when he was still learning to cope with his new body and increased strength.

It’s all her fault. Despite his best efforts, he had been unable to concentrate since his encounter with the female in the woods. He kept remembering her, remembering the way the sunlight caught in her hair and the way her eyes sparkled and the way her breasts nestled against his chest.

“Master Alastair. What on earth is going on?” Mrs. Lancaster rushed in, her eyes widening at the mess.

“It’s nothing. I was just… impatient.”

Her face softened at once. The older woman had known him his entire life, first as his nanny and then, after his parents’ untimely death, as his housekeeper. Although she had not been affected by the Incident, she had refused to leave afterwards. She had remained with him, helping him through those first terrible years, making sure that he ate and slept and learned how to adjust to his new body. She had encouraged him to return to his studies and eventually to take control of the family business.

“It’s because you’ve kept yourself cooped up for too long. I keep telling you that you need to get out of this house and experience life,” she said cheerfully as she started picking up the scattered papers.

The female’s image floated through his mind again as he immediately thought of one experience he would love to have—but somehow he doubted that was what his housekeeper had in mind.

“There was a stranger in the woods today,” he said as casually as possible as he went to help set things to rights. “She said she was living in town.”

“We have had a number of people move in.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I know you have your doubts, but I really think it’s good for the town—after all, if you don’t grow, you stagnate. Who was it?”

“I didn’t catch her name,” he said, refusing to admit that he’d been too flustered to ask.

“Where were your manners?” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she picked up another stack of papers. “I wonder who it might have been. What did she look like?”

Beautiful, desirable, perfect.

“Blonde,” was all he could manage.

She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. “Now I know you can do better than that. Pretend you’re describing one of your specimens. Was she young or old? Short or tall?”

“Young, I think. And not tall. Her head barely reached my chest.”

Mrs. Lancaster’s gaze sharpened, and he was grateful that his new darker skin tone concealed the heat in his cheeks.

“She wore glasses,” he added quickly.

To his relief, she only nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds like Angie Taylor.”

“Taylor? Is she related to Zelda Taylor?”

He rarely went into town, but he’d made an exception for visits to the bookshop. Zelda had a sharp mind and a dry sense of humor, and he’d always enjoyed visiting her.

“Her granddaughter. I hear she’s taken over the bookstore but I haven’t had a chance to go visit her yet.”

He frowned at his housekeeper. “Isn’t she the one who never came back to visit her grandmother after the Incident?”

Mrs. Lancaster sighed.

“I’m afraid so.”

His chest ached. If she hadn’t even bothered to visit her grandmother, she obviously hadn’t been comfortable with the changes to the residents. He couldn’t imagine she would stay in town for long.

“Why is she here now?”

“Because her grandmother left everything to her—the building, the shop, the books. Everything.”

“Then I don’t suppose she’ll be here for long,” he said firmly, ignoring the pang of regret. “She probably just came to sell it.”

Mrs. Lancaster frowned. “I’m not so sure. I know that’s what everyone suspected, but she’s been here for… it must be three months now, and she hasn’t put up a for sale sign.”

“Maybe she thinks she’s going to make more money running the store,” he said cynically, but Mrs. Lancaster shook her head again.

“I don’t see how. Zelda barely managed to make a living at it, and from what I understand, not many people are willing to give her granddaughter a chance.”

“That’s not surprising since she abandoned her grandmother.”

“We don’t know what really happened. You know that not everyone could handle the Incident. A lot of people left and never returned.”

Good, he thought bitterly. He had learned only too well that most people could not truly accept the differences now that so many of the residents are no longer truly human.

“But even if she does want to stay, if she can’t make a living, she’ll have to leave.” Mrs. Lancaster put the last set of papers back in place and gave him a quick glance. “Dinner will be ready at eight. Would you like to eat in the dining room?”

“You know that I would not.”

It was a familiar discussion. She thought that as owner of the mansion he should eat in the formal dining room, but he much preferred to share a meal in the kitchen with her.

She sighed, then gave him an affectionate smile.

“All right. I’ll expect you at eight. Don’t get so caught up in your work you forget.” She shook her finger at him. “And even though we’re eating in the kitchen, you will wear a shirt.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly.

It was another familiar argument. His wings made shirts difficult and he preferred to go without but Mrs. Lancaster was equally determined not to let him engage in such uncivilized behavior. They’d had several heated battles about it before she came up with a shirt style that didn’t offend her sensibilities but also didn’t make him feel like he’d been placed in a straitjacket.

“I’ll put on a shirt just for you,” he said, smiling at her.

“That’s a good boy.”

She returned his smile, then whisked herself out of the room. He picked up his work once again, but as soon as he did his thoughts returned to the pretty blonde. Angie. Was she living above the store as well, like her grandmother? Was she curled up on the big window seat in the front room with Cruickshank purring on her lap?

He could easily vision those soft little fingers combing through Cruickshank’s sleek fur. What would it feel like to have her stroking him instead? The ache in his cock which had gone away during his conversation with Mrs. Lancaster returned in full force.

It was impossible. A full human would never accept a monster.

He sighed and tried once again to concentrate on his work.

Three

A ngie perched on the window seat in her living room and looked out over the town below. Night had long since fallen, and the reproduction gas lamps flickered in the evening breeze. Clouds scudded across the sky as leaves flew wildly down the street. The warm afternoon had disappeared into a crisp fall evening.

Most of the stores were closed, but the town was not quiet. Many of the residents seemed to prefer coming out after dark. Maybe I should try some evening hours, she thought as a large figure stomped up the sidewalk across the street—a minotaur, complete with towering horns. He looked huge in the shadowy darkness, but she suspected that her gargoyle was just as big.

Not my gargoyle, she told herself firmly, even as her thoughts went back to the mysterious stranger she’d met in the woods. Truthfully, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since their earlier encounter, despite his rudeness.

Of course, he had also saved her from falling. The memory of being held against that strong chest sent a shiver of reminiscent pleasure down her spine, and she found herself wishing he’d kept her in his arms for longer.

It’s only because it’s been such a long time since I was in a relationship, she thought. She’d had several boyfriends over the years, but her relationships had always been more friendly than passionate. Despite her abundance of curves, men tended to treat her as the girl next door.

More movement from the street below, this time a hulking orc with a petite human woman. The two of them were clearly in love, and she sighed and drew the curtains. Her prospects were not looking good—either for romance or for saving the business. Not as long as no one in town would have anything to do with her.

It’s just going to take time, she reminded herself. Unless… What if the inhabitants of Screaming Woods were as prejudiced against humans as her parents were against the inhabitants?

No. She refused to accept that. The cute girl who had accompanied the orc was clearly human, and several other humans were scattered throughout the town. She suspected that the so-called monstrous inhabitants of Screaming Woods were actually far more accepting than humans.

Except when it comes to me.

Picking up a book catalog, she tried to work on an order but her mind refused to settle. She finally gave up and flung it to one side, wandering restlessly around the living room. She even returned to the window, searching the night sky for any evidence of her gargoyle, before she decided she was being foolish.

I’ll just make it an early night. Picking up a book, she headed for her bedroom. She hadn’t been able to face the thought of sleeping in her grandmother’s room so she had chosen the converted sleeping porch at the back of the house instead. She had slept there on her summer visits, and even though she had replaced the single bed with a larger one, there was a comforting sense of familiarity to the room.

Determined to cheer herself up, she decided to go all out, changing out of her casual sweats into a pretty, silky nightgown. She poured herself a glass of wine and lit all the candles, then settled back against the profusion of pillows on the big bed to read. At least there was always something interesting to read in a book shop.

She carefully chose to ignore the fact that she had chosen a book with a huge winged warrior on the front. It certainly wasn’t because the image made her think of her gargoyle. But as she read she found herself envisioning his face instead of the character’s. When the hero cradled the heroine against his body, she remembered being pressed against her gargoyle’s massive body. And when the hero wrapped his long tongue around the heroine’s clit, she couldn’t help wondering if her gargoyle possessed the same talent.

Her breasts suddenly ached, her nipples tightening beneath the soft silk, and she pressed her hands against them, gasping at the unexpected wave of pleasure. A gust of wind disturbed the big tree in the garden, and the branches scraped against the windows that surrounded the room on three sides. Since the tree provided privacy, she hadn’t bothered to hang any curtains and dark shadows danced across the panes.

Was it just the wind? What if her gargoyle was out there even now, perched in the darkness watching her?

The thought sent a rush of excitement through her body, and her nipples tightened even further. She found herself looking out into the darkness, imagining him there. Her active imagination quickly provided the scenario—he had been so smitten by their encounter that he’d followed her home, but then he was too shy to approach her so he’d settled for watching her.

Shy? That thought made her hesitate—he had seemed arrogant rather than shy.

The arrogance was just a cover, she decided, smiling to herself. And since he’d gone to the trouble of following her, the least she could do was to give him a good show. She slipped the thin straps of her nightgown down over her shoulders, exposing her breasts. The cool air whispered across the taut peaks, and she pretended it was his breath as he bent over her. She brushed her thumbs across them, pretending they were his hands, and gasped again. Oh, yes, she liked this scenario.

Discarding her book, she let her imagination take over completely. She imagined the tall windows opening as a winged figure appeared outside, silhouetted against the darkness. She imagined him striding over to the bed and looking down at her where she lay quivering and helpless. A spark of amusement threatened to interfere with her story—she never thought of herself as helpless—but she resolutely pushed reality aside and returned to her erotic dream.

Would he touch her? Or would he simply stand there, watching her with those glowing green eyes? But even if he didn’t speak, she knew what he wanted. She let her hands drop away from her breasts, taking the nightgown with them as they slid down over the soft swell of her stomach to the small patch of damp curls between her legs.

The branches rattled against the window again, along with what sounded like a growl, and her eyes flew open. Was there really something—or someone—out there in the darkness? Could she see green eyes glowing in the shadows? The thought only added to her excitement. She suspected that Cruickshank was hiding in the tree, but it was much more fun to imagine that her gargoyle was outside.

Keeping her eyes on the darkness, her fingers slid slowly across the heated nub of her clit. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so aroused, but the combination of the brief encounter and her imagination had her on the verge of climax already.

She circled her clit, eyes focused on the darkness. Moonlight flickered as the clouds slid away and the leaves took on his shape. Two green sparks glowed in the depths of the tree—and then they blinked. The illusion suddenly became reality—he was there.

The knowledge sent her spiraling into a sudden, shocking climax as her body fell back against the pillows. She was still quivering when she forced her eyes open and looked again. Nothing. Whatever she thought she had seen had been nothing more than her active imagination—and a wistful longing for excitement. But she smiled as she pulled her nightgown back on. Whatever the cause, her body hummed with satisfaction.

After she blew out the candles, she walked over to the windows. Clouds obscured most of the sky, but there was enough moonlight to give a clear view of the tree. Clusters of leaves still lingered on the branches, but there weren’t enough to conceal anyone the size of her gargoyle. It had just been her imagination. Oddly disappointed, she took off her glasses and climbed back into bed.

I wonder if I should go back to the woods next Sunday, she thought as she settled down under the covers. If that one brief encounter had provided such fertile ground for her imagination, what might happen if they met again—and this time she lingered?

Four

A lastair perched on the chimney of the house next to the bookstore, his legs still trembling as he watched Angie stare out into the night. His night vision was excellent—he wouldn’t have needed the candlelight to see her beautiful, naked body, but he couldn’t deny the appeal of all that lush flesh glowing in the golden light of the candles.

His breath still came in rapid pants, the dampness seeping through his pants an embarrassing reminder of his lack of control. The entire evening had been a failure of the control he tried so hard to impose upon himself. Even after the evening meal, he’d been unable to focus on his studies. He hadn’t been able to take refuge in his books and instead had prowled restlessly, somehow ending up in the turret over his bedroom. Now that the leaves were thinning, he could see the lights of Screaming Woods and the ribbon of streetlights marking Main Street and the location of the bookstore. The temptation had been too much to resist and he’d taken off into the night.

Even then, he told himself that he was only indulging his curiosity. He’d meant to do no more than take a quick flight around the building, but then she walked into the bedroom, dressed in thin pink silk that clung to every luscious curve and he was lost. He’d settled in the tree next to her room, observing every movement as she settled back against all the ridiculous pillows in the big bed.

And then she touched herself. He had never seen a real woman do such a thing. Even before the Incident, his interactions with the opposite sex had been minimal at best. He’d been a shy child with an intelligence that outstripped his years. The other students in his classes had always been older than him, and no girl was ever interested in a skinny young boy. He’d hoped that might change when he went off to college, but his parents died in a car accident in the fall of his freshman year and he’d returned home.

After the Incident, he’d known there would be no woman in his future. Ironically, the changes created by the Incident erased many of what he saw as his shortcomings. He had grown a foot taller and his body had reflected his new strength—changes he suspected a woman might appreciate. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she would also appreciate his wings or the more monstrous parts of his appearance.

Even his cock had changed. Not only was it larger—too large, he suspected—but it was now enhanced with a swirling pattern of ridges and an astonishing amount of stamina. Even now, despite the knee-shaking climax, his shaft had barely diminished, still throbbing angrily.

His tongue had changed as well, becoming longer and more agile. Snakelike, Tonya had said, and he winced at the memory. She had been the one who made him realize that no woman would ever really want him. She had been one of the public relations managers in his company and had kept insisting that they needed to meet in person. Eventually, she managed to convince him that it was his duty as the new executive officer and he agreed to let her visit.

She’d been shocked by his appearance at first, but to his surprise, she hadn’t run away. Instead, she’d remained at the house for several weeks as they discussed the company’s future. Mrs. Lancaster hadn’t liked her, but he’d been so lonely and hungry for affection that he’d refused to listen to her.

Tonya flirted with him and touched his hand and pressed against him while they worked. She’d even let him kiss her twice. He’d been convinced he was in love. But then he’d come up the stairs to find her and he’d heard her talking to someone.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think it’ll take more than another week. He’s practically on his knees already.”

On his knees?

There was a momentary silence, then she laughed, low and sultry.

“Trust me, I won’t have to go that far, thank goodness. I can barely manage to let him kiss me. He has this weird, snake-like tongue that grosses me out. I have to close my eyes and pretend I’m with you instead.”

Every word felt like a blow. He knew he should move away, but he was in too much pain.

“No, I don’t think I’ll have to let him grab one of my tits.” She laughed. “Well yes, they are nice tits, but I don’t want him touching them. Just wait a little bit longer, darling. I’m sure he’s going to propose. I’ll make sure the paperwork entitles me to half of everything and I’ll be out of here. We can go somewhere tropical and you can make me forget all about him.”

His pain suddenly transformed to rage, and his wings snapped out, shattering a collection of priceless porcelain figures before he threw open the doors to her room. His rage enhanced strength snapped them off the hinges and she screamed, face white with terror.

“Leave this house and never come back,” he ordered.

“But…”

He stalked closer and she gave him a pleading look, but the wide-eyed gaze no longer held any interest for him.

“If I hear that you’ve told anyone about what happened here, all those debts of yours will come due immediately.”

He had reviewed her personnel file before she arrived and was well aware of the extent of her obligations. In his lust he had chosen to ignore them, but that didn’t mean he had forgotten them.

“You can’t do that!”

“I certainly can. As you’ve been reminding me for the past few weeks, I am the Chief Executive Officer. Now leave.”

She reached for him and he took a step back, growling. Her face turned white as she backed away.

“You really are a monster.”

Her words burned, but he refused to let it show. He folded his arms and stood guard as she packed and departed. He was not altogether surprised when she subsequently tried to sell her story to one of the tabloids, but he was successful in keeping it quiet. Then he kept his promise. She lost her expensive car and her over mortgaged condo and her expensive jewelry. The last thing he had heard, she was working as a used car salesman. He derived no satisfaction from the fact, but he had learned his lesson.

He hadn’t had any further contact with women—until an enchanting blonde appeared in his woods. He knew he shouldn’t have followed her. He knew he shouldn’t have watched her, but the temptation was irresistible. And then she’d opened her eyes and looked at him as she climaxed. He knew she couldn’t possibly have seen him in the darkness, but it felt as if she was looking directly at him, and his body had erupted in helpless spasms.

Just the memory made his still hardened cock jerk. What the hell was he going to do now? This could never happen again.

I’ll just have to stay away from her, he decided as he reluctantly abandoned his perch and flew home.

The next morning, Mrs. Lancaster served him the latest gossip along with his breakfast.

“It looks as if I was right. I don’t think Zelda’s granddaughter is going to last much longer.”

“Why won’t she?” he snapped, then winced when she gave him a startled look.

“No one is willing to buy anything from the bookstore. They all blame her for not coming to see her grandma.” She tapped her fingers on her teacup. “I remember meeting her a few times, and she always seemed like a very sweet little girl. I can’t believe that she would be that heartless. There must be some explanation. Maybe I’ll run into town this afternoon. I could use a new cookbook.”

“Maybe she could take another job to supplement the income from the book shop?”

“I’m afraid no one would hire her. That is…” She gave him a speculative look. “That is not unless someone else did first.”

“Why are you looking at me? I don’t need to hire anyone.”

“It wouldn’t have to be permanent.” She raised her hand when he started to object. “Just think about it. I’m sure there’s something she could do for you.”

Kiss me. Touch me. Show me all the things that I never got to do.

He dismissed the thought immediately. He had actually considered the idea before, but could never bring himself to do it. He had learned his lesson with Tonya. The only hands he wanted on his body were ones that were there because they wanted him.

Returning to his lab, he managed to concentrate enough to review the tests he’d been doing with the Isotria medeoloides. The results were most promising, but despite that, his thoughts kept returning to Angie. Perhaps he needed to take the afternoon off and try a different type of distraction. He’d been working through a book of chess problems and he went to the library to retrieve it.

The library was his favorite room in the entire mansion. A vast two-story space, the walls were lined with books and cases displaying the eclectic items his ancestors had collected. A collection I will never leave Screaming Woods long enough to add to, he thought sadly. And one which he would never be able to share with the world. Or will I?

It suddenly occurred to him that even he wasn’t familiar with all the items in the library. Perhaps if someone cataloged it, he could create an online archive. Someone who was used to working with books and knew how to do research…

It was a ridiculous idea. Despite the size of the library, the job wouldn’t last forever and if the bookstore was not profitable, she would eventually have to leave. But perhaps he could keep her here just a little longer. He smiled and went to find Mrs. Lancaster.

Five

A ngie nervously adjusted her collar, wondering yet again if she’d chosen the right outfit. Mrs. Lancaster, the nice older woman who had suggested the interview, had been neatly dressed in a well-tailored suit that looked like something Angie’s mother would have chosen. Her mother had actually provided her with a suitable work wardrobe when she graduated, but Angie never liked business clothes and she’d gratefully given them away when she left the city.

Instead, she’d chosen a long full skirt in a pretty shade of green and a soft cream sweater, then layered on some of her grandmother’s bracelets to give her courage. Courage she needed in order to knock on the imposing doors in front of her. The imposing Gothic mansion was located on the edge of town, surrounded by an imposing stone wall topped with delicate swirls of iron. The gates had been open, but the place seemed deserted. The remnants of what was once a magnificent garden lined both sides of the long drive, the vibrant red and yellow of fall flowers still visible amongst the overgrown plants.

The mansion dated to the mid-eighteenth century, she decided, noting the elaborate cornice edging the roof, which meant it had been here almost as long as the town. She started cataloging some of the other architectural details, then realized she was only avoiding the inevitable. She took a deep breath and knocked.

The heavy metal knocker struck the door with an ominous sound that seemed to reverberate through the house like some kind of warning. She tugged at her collar again, but she wasn’t going to run away now. The door opened almost immediately to reveal Mrs. Lancaster, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the imposing surroundings, the older woman looked perfectly normal and she gave her a reassuring smile.

“So nice to see you again, my dear. Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the library. Best to get that over with first thing.”

That did not sound quite as reassuring as she would have hoped, but she nodded obediently and followed the other woman into a huge paneled entry hall. A magnificent stairway climbed the back wall and the stained glass window above it turned the sunlight to streaks of red and gold.

“After the interview, we’ll have a nice cup of tea and you can tell me everything you’ve been doing since you left Screaming Woods.”

There was no note of reproach in the other woman’s voice, but that didn’t stop Angie’s feeling of guilt.

“I didn’t know,” she burst out. “My parents told me that Gran was dead. That’s why I didn’t come back.”

Mrs. Lancaster whirled around, her eyes blazing.

“Blanche told you that Zelda was dead? How could she do such a thing?”

“You know my mother?”

“Of course I do. She was friends with my sister.” Mrs. Lancaster sighed, some of the anger disappearing. “I knew she was never really happy here, but I never would have thought she would go as far as to say her mother was dead.”

Angie bit her lip. “My dad was the one who actually said it, but she didn’t contradict him. She never contradicts him.”

Mrs. Lancaster sighed again. “He never did get along with Zelda, but that doesn’t excuse your mother’s behavior.”

“It just makes me so angry. If I had known she was still here, I could have spent so much more time with her.”

“I know, dear. If it helps at all, she loved you very much. She used to talk about you all the time.”

Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. She’d been so afraid that her grandmother blamed her. Mrs. Lancaster clucked her tongue softly, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“What did you say to her? Why is she crying?”

The harsh voice echoed through the entry hall, and she looked up as her gargoyle swooped down from the stair landing. She’d decided she must have exaggerated his appeal but he looked even bigger and more attractive than she remembered, and a low pulse of arousal hummed through her body.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Now don’t get in a tizzy, Master Alastair. Angie was just remembering her grandmother.”

“Master Alastair?” Her eyes widened. “Alastair Bennington? You’re the one who has the job?”

“Yes,” he said abruptly. “Is that a problem?”

His voice was as harsh and arrogant as it had been during their previous encounter, but she was looking up at his face when he spoke and she was sure there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

He expects me to run away, she thought, and lifted her chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” she said firmly.

Those striking green eyes glowed. Heat rushed to her face as she remembered seeing them—no, imagining she had seen them—outside her window. Her nipples tingled, and she prayed her sweater was thick enough to conceal them.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Lancaster said. “Why don’t you two go and have a nice discussion in the library?”

“It’s an interview, not a discussion,” Alastair said, but Mrs. Lancaster was already disappearing through the door on the far side of the entry hall and he turned back to her.

“I suppose we should talk about the job,” he said, almost reluctantly. “What did Mrs. Lancaster tell you?”

“That you have a library that needs to be cataloged. In addition to the books, there are a number of items that may require research to identify.”

“That’s correct. Let me show you.”

He put his hand on her back to guide her to one side of the entry, and the heat of his hand seemed to burn through her sweater. He snatched it away immediately, but she could still feel the lingering sensation. Quite certain that she was blushing again, she did her best to ignore it.

“She also said that the hours are flexible. That I could work in the evenings and on Sunday.”

“Yes, the hours are flexible, although I would like a minimum commitment each week.”

“Of course. It’s just that I want to keep my shop open during regular business hours. Also, I intend to stay open for an extended period on Friday nights. But I can be here whenever the shop is closed.”

“I assume you will also need time to sleep,” he said dryly, but there was an odd note in his voice. She looked up to find him watching her, his eyes glowing again. It was impossible. He couldn’t possibly have been there—could he?

Before she could decide how to respond, he threw open a set of elaborately carved wooden doors to reveal the most impressive private library she had ever seen.

The far wall was lined with windows reaching up the entire two stories. A balcony with an ornate wrought iron railing ran around the other sides, separating the first and second floors. A massive fireplace anchored the right-hand wall, but the rest of the space was filled with built-in bookcases in rich, dark wood. Oversized leather furniture was scattered across the floor, interspersed with a startling variety of display cases. Everywhere she looked, she could see something rare, beautiful, or interesting.

“Where did all this come from?”

“My family has always been hoarders.” A smile crossed his face for the first time, making him look unexpectedly carefree. “Although they preferred to call themselves collectors. I was told that they filled an entire ship with books and objects for this library when they came from Europe. Every generation since has added to the collection. Until now,” he added, the smile fading.

“There’s not exactly a lot of space left to fill,” she said cheerfully, even though her heart ached for him. She hadn’t thought about the fact that the restrictions went both ways. People might not have chosen to visit Screaming Woods, but neither did the residents choose to leave. Even now that the secret was beginning to come out, she suspected that the world wasn’t quite ready for them.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she moved over to the nearest display table.

“Are these Japanese netsuke?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

He nodded. “Yes, from the Edo period. How did you know?”

“You’d be surprised at the amount of random knowledge a librarian acquires.”

“A librarian? Not a bookstore owner?”

“An unemployed librarian who owns a failing bookstore,” she said bitterly, then sighed. “Sorry. The subject of my career—or lack of it—has been something of a sore spot lately. But I’m determined to make the shop work. I think it’s what Gran wanted me to do.”

She wasn’t entirely surprised when he didn’t immediately agree. He didn’t seem like the type to utter meaningless platitudes. After a moment, he nodded thoughtfully. “I understand it is a difficult business in which to earn a profit.”

She frowned at him. “Now you sound like my father. All he cares about is money.”

“I do not believe that is what I said—or what I implied.”

“You’re right. As I said, it’s a sore subject. What did you have in mind for the library? Please tell me it’s not a card catalog.”

That surprisingly attractive smile crossed his face again.

“It may not be obvious, but this house is fully equipped with modern technology. I use a relational database for my work. You could add on to that, or if there is a different type of software you would prefer, I would be happy to obtain it.”

“I’ve been trained in several.” She shrugged. “Let’s look at what you have before we decide. Library software is expensive, and I’d hate for you to waste your money on new software if what you have will work.”

Despite the size of the house, she couldn’t imagine there were many sources of income in Screaming Woods. He looked amused again, but he only nodded.

“I should warn you that most of the original records are in a card catalog.”

She laughed. “That’s fine. It’ll give me a good starting place… At least I’m assuming you want to offer me the job?”

“Yes, Angel. I want you to take the job.”

She smiled at him before she realized what he’d said.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“My real name is Angel. Angie is only a nickname.”

“I didn’t know. It just seemed… right.”

His wings looked as if they were about to spread and she found herself waiting with breathless anticipation, but then he took a step back.

“Now let me show you where everything is located.”

Six

A lastair removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He’d been staring at his computer screen for a good thirty minutes without seeing anything on it. Instead, Angel’s face danced in front of his eyes. She’d been working in his library for two weeks now and he was absolutely, totally obsessed with her. He’d barely made any progress on his research during that time.

It’s a good thing I own the company, he thought gloomily. I would have fired myself by now.

He allowed himself two periods a day to speak to her—once when she arrived and then again before she left—but that didn’t stop him thinking about her the rest of the time. And although he had done his best to limit their interactions, the time they spent together kept increasing.

He especially enjoyed the time at the end of the evening when she would curl up in one of the big chairs next to the fireplace. Each night he resolved to keep it strictly business, but even though he always started by asking her to report on her progress, their conversation soon strayed into a variety of different topics. He loved to listen to her talk. Her small nose crinkled adorably as she went off on a tangent about eighteenth century jewelry or women’s suffrage or any of the other things that crossed her agile mind. She even managed to get him to talk more about himself than anyone ever had.

When their conversations were finally over—or the fact that she was yawning reminded him guiltily of the lateness of the hour—he would send her on her way. As soon as she headed down the driveway, he would take to the air, following her home. Despite their monstrous appearances, he didn’t think the citizens of Screaming Woods presented a threat to her, but he had no intention of taking any chances with her safety.

Every night he would watch from the sky as she entered the store and turned out the lights downstairs. A few minutes later, the light would come on in her bedroom.

Every night he swore he would leave, but instead he found himself perched in the big tree outside her windows, watching as she strolled into the room in one of her frilly, impractical nightgowns and nestled under the covers. She never removed her clothing as she had done that first night, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. The curve of her breast, the thrust of an impudent nipple against delicate lace, the way the silky fabric clung to her ass—all of it left him just as hard as if she’d been naked.

He sometimes felt as if he’d had a continuous erection since the very first moment he’d seen her. Even when he tried to take himself in hand, it didn’t help. A glimpse of her, a hint of her scent, even the sound of her voice, and he was as aroused as if he’d never climaxed.

Mrs. Lancaster, of course, quickly realized just how interested he was in his assistant.

“For heaven’s sake, why don’t you just ask the girl out?” she’d scolded him that very morning.

“It wouldn’t be proper,” he said stiffly. “She’s my employee.”

She actually rolled her eyes at him.

“A temporary employee. If you’re so worried about proper behavior, stop spying on her.”

Once again, he was glad that he was no longer capable of flushing. On more than one occasion Mrs. Lancaster had caught him on the balcony of the library, watching as Angel worked. Fortunately, she had no idea of the extent of his obsession—or his nightly vigil outside Angel’s room.

“I don’t date.”

Her exasperated expression softened.

“Maybe it’s time to try.”

The problem was he had no idea where to begin. He never asked a woman on a date, even before he became a monster. And where could he take her? He tended to avoid the town whenever he could, even though he suspected they would accept him as one of them. But Mrs. Lancaster had mentioned a monster-friendly Italian restaurant…

The alarm on his phone chimed, along with the one on the computer screen and the one on the desk. Ten o’clock. Time to meet with Angel about the evening’s work. His wings flared as he rushed to the door, knocking a stack of books on the floor, but he didn’t care.

She was bending over a notepad, scribbling furiously when he arrived at the library, the golden strands of hair tumbling wildly around her face. He’d quickly realized that no matter how neat she looked when she arrived, she always ended the evening looking a little disheveled. He loved seeing her like that. It made him think of the way she looked with her hair loose and wild across her pillow. It took a moment before she realized he was there, but then she looked up and smiled as if she was genuinely happy to see him, and his breath caught.

“Good evening, Angel.”

His voice came out stiff and formal, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her smile only widened.

“Good evening, Master Alastair,” she replied, blue eyes twinkling. He knew she was only teasing him by using Mrs. Lancaster’s term for him, but the sound of those words coming from her perfect pink lips always made his shaft stiffen.

“Mrs. L brought in the tea tray a few minutes ago, but would you mind if I just finished up first?” she continued.

“Not at all. I will prepare a cup for you.”

He already knew she liked her tea with two sugars and a healthy splash of milk. Leaving her to her notes, he walked over to the table in front of the fireplace and bit back a sigh. In addition to the usual teapot and tray of assorted delicacies, Mrs. Lancaster had included a crystal decanter of her blackberry cordial. He knew from experience that it packed a deadly punch. Maybe he could put it aside before Angel noticed—

“And a small glass of Mrs. L’s cordial too, please. I promised her I’d give her my opinion.”

So much for that idea. He poured a tiny amount into one of the crystal glasses, hesitated, and then poured himself a small amount as well. He carried his glass over to the fireplace, sipping it as he stared into the flames.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Angel appeared next to him, so close he could feel the warmth of her body. She was wearing another of her fuzzy little sweaters, and he would have given everything he possessed to touch her, to run his hands over the soft fabric covering even softer curves. She was carrying her own cordial and took a small sip, then moaned appreciatively and licked her lips. Did she have any idea how much she was torturing him?

“Yum! This is amazing. I’ll have to tell Mrs. L that I approve.”

“She will be very happy to hear that.”

His voice sounded stiff and unnatural in his own ears, but she only smiled at him, then took his hand.

“Now, sit down. I made a fascinating discovery today and I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

His entire being was focused on the small fingers clasped around his. He couldn’t even move. Her smile faltered, and she started to release him.

“Unless you’re not interested—”

“I’m interested.”

He grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it completely and gripped it firmly—probably too firmly—but she didn’t object. Instead, she smiled up at him. He even thought she was leaning towards him with an expectant look on her face, as if… As if she wanted him to kiss her?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he panicked. He hastily tugged her to the nearest piece of furniture and almost pushed her down, then immediately realized he’d made a mistake. Instead of her usual armchair, he’d taken her to a couch—a couch with room for two. And instead of letting go of his hand, she tugged on it.

“Why don’t you join me?”

“My wings…”

“I know you can pull them back. I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” she said cheerfully.

How could he resist? He lowered himself to the couch. He could hold his wings back, and it was a large couch, but he still took up a considerable amount of room. While they weren’t exactly pressed together, her knee brushed against his whenever she moved and those delightfully tempting breasts were only inches away. It would be so easy just to pick her up and place her on his lap and slide his hand up under that sweater…

The thought consumed him while she chattered cheerfully about some of the Native American artifacts found by the first Bennington to arrive in town. He could barely manage monosyllabic responses. She didn’t seem bothered by the brevity of his responses, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling as she explained the significance of the items. It wasn’t until she finished her second glass of cordial that he realized that her enthusiasm might be due to more than just intellectual excitement. He carefully removed the glass from her hand.

“You have to be careful with Mrs. Lancaster’s cordial. It’s a lot stronger than it seems.”

She licked her lips again and his cock jerked.

“Mmm. What a shame. It’s so delicious.” She reluctantly handed him her glass. “But I suppose it’s just as well. I’d better be getting home so I can be ready to open the store in the morning.” She sighed. “Not that it will do much good. I still can’t get any customers.”

Her lower lip trembled. She was always so cheerful that he had forgotten she was having issues with her business. He had to do something to remedy the situation. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do, but there had to be some way to help her.

She rose to her feet, then stumbled slightly. He automatically caught her, grasping her arm just above her elbow. The soft sweater over her warm curves felt just as amazing as he had anticipated, but he reluctantly forced himself to let go.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. A little fresh air will be good for me.”

But when he escorted her to the front door and opened it, a torrent of rain poured down from the heavens. The curtains had been drawn in the library and neither one of them had noticed the storm. The rain was so heavy he could barely see the gate posts at the end of the driveway. She stared at it in dismay as a bolt of lightning split the night, a crescendo of thunder immediately following.

“You can’t go out in this,” he said firmly, shutting the door.

“But what about the store?”

“You can just leave early in the morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll ask Mrs. Lancaster to make up a room for you,” he added hastily, to make it clear that his intentions were strictly honorable.

A look flashed across her face so quickly that he couldn’t read it, but then she nodded.

“I suppose that’s the sensible thing to do. Thank you.”

A deep feeling of satisfaction filled him as he went to tell Mrs. Lancaster that she was here, under his roof, exactly where he wanted her to be.

Seven

A ngie’s eyes widened as she looked around the bedroom Mrs. Lancaster had chosen for her. A huge four-poster bed stood against one wall, white silk curtains hanging from the canopy. On the opposite wall, an elaborate mantel carved from gold and white marble surrounded the fireplace. The wall opposite the door had tall arched windows which led out onto a small balcony—although with the rain lashing against the windows, she had no intention of exploring it. Blue and white silk curtains framed the windows and Mrs. Lancaster clucked her tongue as she hurried across to close them.

“What a terrible night. I’m so glad you decided to be sensible and stay here.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Of course not, dear. You know you’re welcome here anytime.” Those sharp grey eyes gave her a quick look, and she suddenly found herself blushing, even though she had no idea why. “Master Alastair could use the company.”

Her tongue tripped all over itself as she tried to respond. She was definitely blushing now, but Mrs. Lancaster ignored her incoherent response.

“The bathroom should be fully stocked, but if there’s anything you need, just call me on the house phone.”

Mrs. Lancaster headed to the door, then turned back.

“I’m afraid I didn’t have anything that would fit you, but I’ve laid out some of Master Alastair’s things in the wardrobe if you’d like something else to sleep in.”

Once again she was unable to think of a response before Mrs. Lancaster left the room.

A door to one side of the fireplace led to a large walk-in wardrobe, empty except for what looked like an old high school T-shirt, a white silk shirt, and an ornately embroidered dressing gown. She looked at them, then shrugged and took off her sweater and jeans. The T-shirt was too tight across her breasts and the shirt was far too big, but she decided it would be comfortable enough to sleep in. She pulled the shirt over her head and wrapped herself in the dressing gown before continuing her explorations.

The door on the other side of the fireplace led to an ornate bathroom in the same gold and white marble as the fireplace. She gave the huge tub sitting in the window embrasure a wistful look, but it was already late and she needed to get some sleep. As she returned to the bedroom, there was a tentative knock on the door and her heart began to race. When she opened the door, Alastair was standing there.

He was wearing the stern expression which she had long since realized meant that he was nervous, but he still looked ridiculously handsome and desirable. His eyes started to glow with that green light as they dropped from her face to the sliver of skin showing in the neckline of the oversized shirt. The hunger in his eyes awoke an equal hunger in her own body. She could actually feel her nipples throbbing as they pressed against the thin silk of her shirt.

“I… I came to make sure you have everything you need.” He finally dragged his eyes back up to her face.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You are always welcome,” he said, his words echoing Mrs. Lancaster’s.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” The heat in his eyes—and perhaps the remnants of the blackberry cordial—gave her courage. “But I’ll leave the curtains open, in case you want to watch the way you usually do.”

She giggled at the shocked look on his face, and quickly closed the door. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that not only was he following her home every night, but that he perched in the tree outside her bedroom once she was inside. She was equally convinced that he had been there that first night. Although she hadn’t quite had the courage to repeat that scenario, she liked the fact that he was out there. The knowledge of his presence made her feel sexy and desirable, but it also made her feel oddly safe as she drifted off to sleep, knowing that he was watching over her.

Had it been a mistake to tell him that she knew? She didn’t want him to stop—but maybe it would encourage him to finally move beyond just looking. From what she’d pieced together of his history, she was positive that his reluctance was due more to lack of experience than lack of desire.

But the secret was out now and all she could do was hope that he understood she was encouraging him. She crossed to the windows and pulled the curtains all the way open, then sighed. The rain was still beating down furiously, and no matter how much he liked to watch her, she didn’t think he would be out there in the rain. Still, she had said he could watch and she left them open as she went to turn down the covers in the big bed.

As she bent down to turn back the embroidered comforter, she felt the familiar prickle between her shoulders. He was out there. An equally familiar shiver of excitement danced over her body. She bent forward over the bed to rearrange the pillows, and felt the shirt travel up the back of her legs. It was far too large to reveal much, but she still felt wickedly sinful. She turned back towards the window and stretched leisurely, letting the shirt ride up in front as she lifted her arms overhead and relishing the way the fabric felt against her stiff nipples.

Running her fingers down the neckline, she very slowly unbuttoned first the top button and then another. The shirt was so large that just opening those two buttons exposed a glimpse of skin all the way down to her belly button. She toyed with the edge of the shirt, pushing it almost all the way to her nipples before losing her courage. She turned out the light and climbed into bed.

Then another flash of lightning lit up the night, and she could see him outside, perched on the balcony in the pouring rain, his eyes fixed on her.

Her chest ached at the sight of that massive figure outside in the dark—so big and strong and so alone. Determined to tempt him inside, she sat up against the pillows and slowly undid the remaining buttons before letting the shirt slide off her shoulders. Only a wisp of silk panty concealed anything from his avid gaze. She cupped her breasts, shivering when she brushed her thumbs across her taut nipples.

She was quite sure that she was blushing, but she ignored it as she let her other hand glide down across her stomach and toy with the waistband of her panties. She kept her eyes on him, even though all she could see was a shadowy figure against the darkness. It had been thrilling to touch herself when she only imagined he was there. Doing it when she knew he was watching caused ripples of arousal to skate across her skin.

Her eyes closed automatically as she finally slipped her hand into her panties. Her clit was a hot, swollen nub beneath her fingers, and just that quick touch had her on the edge of climax. She forced her eyes open again and looked at him.

“Alastair. I need you.”

Lightning flashed again as the doors blew open, his huge figure silhouetted against the night—wild and strong and most definitely not human. The blood thundered in her veins as she smiled and held out her hand to him.

“Come to me.”

He obeyed, crossing the room with one stroke of his wings. Drops of icy rain landed on her overheated skin as he took her hand, but she didn’t care. She tugged him down towards her.

“Kiss me.”

He bent towards her until their mouths only inches apart, then hesitated.

“I don’t…”

She curled her other hand around one of his horns and pulled him closer.

“Kiss me,” she whispered against his mouth and licked his lower lip. He groaned, the sound seeming to come from deep within him, but then he was kissing her and nothing else mattered. Kissing was too pale a word. He devoured her, deeply, hungrily, claiming every inch of her mouth. She arched against him, his cold, wet skin an erotic contrast to her hot, throbbing nipples, and this time he growled. A big hand slid beneath her, pulling her harder against his chest.

She automatically started to put her legs around his waist and his cock lodged against her silk covered pussy. He growled again as his other hand grabbed her butt and pressed her against his cock. He was still wearing pants, but the wet fabric did nothing to prevent the pleasure rushing through her as he rubbed her against that thick length. A climax swept over her with sudden, shocking intensity. She cried out into his mouth and heard his answering cry as a rush of heat flooded between them.

She panted against his chest, still quivering from her climax, and felt the exact moment he stiffened. He started to pull away, but she tightened her arms and legs around him. She knew that he was more than capable of escaping her grip but he didn’t try, even though his body remained rigid.

“I apologize,” he began stiffly. “I do not know…”

“Hush. You have nothing to apologize about. We could just wait a little while—”

She broke off. Even though she was quite sure that he had just climaxed, his cock was still just as hard between her legs. She gave an experimental wiggle and felt him flex in response. Mmm.

“Or perhaps not. It feels like you’re already ready for more.”

“I… I…”

He sounded so uncertain that her heart ached.

“Only if you want to,” she said quickly. “I’d be perfectly happy if you just wanted to stay here and cuddle instead.”

“You want to cuddle?”

She nodded firmly.

“Of course I do. Unless… That is…” What if he didn’t want to stick around? “Unless you don’t want to,” she added.

“You want me to stay? And all you want to do is cuddle?”

“Well, it’s not all I want to do—that was amazing—but I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

“Amazing?”

“Amazing,” she said firmly.

“Just doing this?”

He flexed his hips and that still thick, still hard, still perfect cock rocked between her legs.

“God, yes.”

“Hmm. And when I do this?”

He repeated the movement, this time pressing the swollen length directly against her clit.

“That’s even better,” she gasped.

Even in the darkness, she saw the white flash of his smile.

“Excellent,” he purred. “Let’s see just how much better it can be.”

He stood and ripped his pants off in one terrifyingly easy gesture. As he did, the lightning flared again and she could see every detail. The broad shoulders, the flaring wings, the wide muscled chest, and the ridges laddering down his abdomen. At least a ten-pack, she thought absently, before her eyes landed on his cock.

She had known he was large. What she hadn’t realized was that he was not shaped the same way as a human male. The tip of his cock was flared rather than rounded and the shaft seemed to undulate down to a thick, ridged area at the base. His cock was darker than the silver grey of his body, almost black with a faint shimmer. She knew she was staring, her mouth open as shivers of anticipation skated over her skin.

He smiled, and it wasn’t his usual shy, awkward smile. It was a look of pure male satisfaction as he stalked towards her, his wings blocking out everything except for him.

Eight

T he look on Angel’s face filled Alastair with satisfaction. His embarrassment over the fact that he had climaxed before he even entered her disappeared. She just seemed thrilled that he was still erect. Perhaps being a monster had advantages after all. He came down over the bed and heard her breathing speed up. The rich, sweet scent of her arousal only increased, but he hesitated.

“This is what you want?”

“Yes,” she said, her hands tangling in his hair and tugging him towards her.

Her enthusiasm delighted him, but he was determined to remain in control this time. He paused long enough to remove her glasses before finally, finally covering her breasts with his hands. A groan escaped his lips as the lush silky flesh filled his hands, the hard beads of her nipples thrusting against his palms. He adjusted his grip so he could tug at the taut peaks. The rate of her breathing increased again, but she was arching towards him and he didn’t hesitate. He bent closer, unable to resist taking the enticing bit of flesh in his mouth. His tongue automatically wrapped around her nipple, mimicking the motion of his fingers.

A distant alarm sounded in his head, remembering Tonya’s reaction, but Angel’s hands closed around his horns, pulling him closer, and the memory disappeared.

“God, that feels good. More,” she demanded, and he obliged, moving back and forth between her breasts until her nipples were dark and swollen.

Her hips moved restlessly against him, seeking his cock, but he didn’t want to disgrace himself again. Instead, he began kissing his way down over the gentle swell of her stomach. She tried to hurry him, but he took his time, exploring the sweet dip of her belly button and relishing the soft flesh beneath his fingers. The sweet fragrance of her arousal filled his head, and he moved lower.

His enhanced vision allowed him to see the pearls of arousal glistening in her golden curls and coating her delicate folds. He lapped eagerly at the slick heat between her legs and her hips jerked towards him. He smiled and took a firm grip on her perfect ass as he started to explore.

Once again, the agility of his tongue proved remarkably useful. He quickly discovered that wrapping his tongue around her clit and tugging on it brought her to an almost instant orgasm, but she was just as responsive when he inserted it into her impossibly tight passage, swirling and licking until she convulsed helplessly in his arms. Despite the throbbing ache in his cock, he could have remained there forever but after her fourth climax she used her grip on his horns to tug him higher.

Her face was flushed and beautiful, her eyes heavy with passion.

“I want you inside me, Alastair.”

How could he resist? With his eyes on her face, he adjusted his position and slowly slid the tip of his cock into her entrance, gradually moving deeper. The angled tip helped, but she was very small and he was… not. Her eyes widened as his shaft grew thicker, and he felt her sweet little pussy start to flutter, trying to adjust to his size as he kept going. Small white teeth clamped down on a swollen lower lip as he worked his way deeper and he started to have second thoughts.

He paused, on the verge of withdrawing, but then she whispered his name. His hips jerked forward helplessly, and she cried out. He felt her climax, gripping him in silken heat as her channel pulsated around him, and his own climax swept over him. They clung to each other for a long moment before her eyes fluttered open.

“That was—” An adorably puzzled look crossed her face. “You’re still hard.”

“I have not yet climaxed fully.”

The widest part at the base of his shaft was still outside her body. Her eyes widened and then she gave him a slow, sultry, and not at all angelic smile.

“Then I guess we’re not finished.”

Never.

He only barely managed to keep the word inside. Instead, he started to push forward again. Their combined climaxes helped to ease his way despite her body’s resistance. He slowly, carefully worked his way deeper until he was buried completely in the sweetest, tightest grip he’d ever felt. She shifted restlessly, and he could see the strain on her face as her body tried to adjust to his size.

Reaching down, he swept his thumb across her exposed clit. Her body jerked so hard she almost dislodged him, and then she was coming again in long, pulsing waves that once again triggered his own climax. But this time it was different. In addition to the rush of heat, the base of his cock began to expand inside her narrow channel, stretching her even further and locking their bodies together.

She cried out as her convulsions continued, shuddering helplessly beneath him until her body finally stilled. Her eyes fluttered open.

“What just happened?”

He did his best to ignore the languid contentment seeping through his body and force himself to think.

“It seems that gargoyles knot,” he said finally.

“What does that mean?”

“The base of my shaft has swollen inside you and locked us together.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. It’s never happened before.” He chose not to mention the fact that none of it had ever happened before.

“It would’ve been nice to know.”

“You do not like it?”

He hadn’t known it would happen, but he certainly had no objection. He relished the feel of their bodies locked together and how close he felt to her, but perhaps the sensation was too different for her.

“I could try to—”

He tried gingerly to pull back and she gasped. He felt her pussy flutter again as she quickly shook her head.

“That’s all right. We’ll just wait until it goes down. Assuming it will?”

There was a hint of doubt in her last statement, and he smiled.

“It seems unlikely from a biological perspective that we would be locked together forever.”

She laughed, and they both groaned as the vibration rippled through their joined bodies.

“Maybe I’d better keep still as well,” she whispered.

He was tempted to suggest some further explorations, but perhaps she was right. It might be best to wait for another time—that is, if there was another time. What if his differences were too much for her to accept? But before worry overwhelmed him, she snuggled against his chest with a soft sigh.

“This is kind of nice, actually. I know you’re not going anywhere.”

Never. The word hovered on his tongue again, but he only tightened his arms around her.

“I’ll stay for as long as you want me.”

Nine

W hen Angie woke, Alastair was still in bed with her. His arms and his wings were both wrapped around her and she smiled. She had gone to sleep before his knot had diminished, but she’d woken briefly when he finally withdrew. He had started to stand, but when she whispered for him to stay, he hadn’t hesitated. He was such an amazing man. Gargoyle. Man. His thoughts and feelings were still human—his outside appearance didn’t matter.

Although this form does have some advantages, she thought with a silent giggle, remembering that agile tongue and that truly amazing cock. The sky outside the window was only barely beginning to lighten. She still had a little time before she had to leave—and a lot of curiosity.

Her hand had been resting on his chest, but now she slid it down over the many, many ridges of his abdomen to that all too intriguing cock. He was only half-erect, but even in this state, his cock reached halfway down his thigh. As she gently explored the flared tip and the undulating base, he started to grow.

The base of his cock was only slightly larger than his shaft now, but the skin was looser, slightly textured beneath her fingers and she shivered as she remembered the way it had expanded inside her. Her fingers drifted slowly back up his now fully erect shaft, and she thoughtfully circled the head.

As wonderful as last night had been, she still didn’t think he had a lot of experience—which no doubt meant that he’d never had a blow job. Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she started to wiggle her way down his body. Despite the way his body had responded to her touch, he still seemed to be asleep. But as soon as her mouth closed over the tip of his cock and she gave a gentle suck, he jerked awake.

“Angel?”

He sounded so uncertain that her heart ached. She licked a circle around the tip of his cock, determined to give him pleasure. His hand came to her head, but he didn’t try to push her away.

“What are you doing?”

She lifted her head enough to answer him, but kept her mouth close so he could feel the heat of her breath on his damp skin.

“It’s called a blow job, Master Alastair,” she said innocently. “Shall I demonstrate?”

“I… I…”

“That sounds like a yes.”

This time she took the whole head in her mouth, sucking gently as his hand tightened in her hair. Mmm. She rather liked that. She hummed with pleasure, and felt him jerk against her mouth. His shaft was so wide that she couldn’t take much of him, but she did the best she could. She used her hand to stroke his shaft, sliding up to meet her mouth each time she descended. He quivered each time she caressed the base of his cock, but when he finally exploded, filling her mouth with hot, sweet liquid, the base did not expand.

Almost as soon as the last pulse left his body, he reached for her with frantic hands, lifting her over his cock and plunging her down onto him in one long thrust. As aroused as she was by licking him, she was not entirely prepared and her body struggled to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. But then he began raising and lowering her over his cock, each stroke sending another ripple of excitement through her stretched nerves.

“Touch your breasts,” he growled, green eyes glowing, and she obeyed.

He watched her intently, studying her face and making small adjustments as he realized what pleased her the most. Her fingers tightened on her nipples, a grip that would have been too tight if she were less aroused, hovering on the edge of climax.

“Alastair,” she whispered.

He thrust up into her, burying his cock inside her and pushing her over the edge. She felt his knot expanding, stretching her, filling her, and prolonging her climax as she shuddered helplessly in his arms. The world flashed white. When she recovered her senses, she was lying against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her and their bodies locked together.

“And here we are again,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said, his voice full of satisfaction.

She was on the verge of falling asleep when she remembered the bookstore. She immediately tried to sit up, sending a wave of pleasure through both of them.

“Are you ready for more, Angel?” he purred.

“No! Well, yes, but not now. I have to open the store this morning.”

He shrugged, sending another shiver of arousal down her spine.

“Why? Will anyone be there?”

This time, she did sit up, gritting her teeth against the distracting pleasure.

“That’s not the point. It’s my business and I need to treat it that way.” Her voice threatened to tremble. “I failed my grandmother by not being here for her—I’m not going to fail her again by letting her shop fail as well.”

There was a look on his face she couldn’t quite read.

“You could move in with me,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “Then it wouldn’t matter if the business wasn’t successful.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. I just told you—I owe it to Gran to succeed. I’m not some little pet you just keep around the house.”

This time she made a serious effort to struggle free, sending her body rocketing between pain and pleasure. He immediately grabbed her hips, holding her in place.

“If you wish to separate our bodies, it would be best to remain still,” he said through gritted teeth.

His voice was cold and hard, and his face had resumed the old stern expression. Even his eyes were closed as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. She had the oddest desire to burst into tears, but not here and not now. She clamped her mouth shut and did her best to remain perfectly still. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt his knot diminish.

The sensation was unexpectedly erotic, but she refused to respond and as soon as their bodies unlocked, she climbed off of him. She grabbed her glasses and headed for the bathroom without looking at him. It wasn’t until she finished brushing her teeth that she had second thoughts. Even though he’d been an insensitive jerk about it, he’d asked her to move in with him.

Did that mean he thought they had a future together? Her heart skipped a beat. She’d deliberately avoided thinking about the future, but she suddenly realized how much she would miss him if she stopped seeing him every day. How much she enjoyed the time they spent together—even before she’d discovered how amazing their physical relationship could be.

She poked her head back out of the bathroom, but it was too late. The bed was empty and he was gone. She sighed and went to get dressed. We can talk this evening, she decided.

An hour later, she was regretting her decision to leave. The store was empty, exactly as Alastair had predicted. She tried calling him, but Ms. Lancaster said that he wasn’t available. The other woman’s friendliness seemed to have vanished, and Angie didn’t even try to ask any questions.

She hung up and sat frowning at the empty shop. She still had absolutely no intentions of letting him support her, but she shouldn’t have reacted so quickly. The thought of not seeing him again broke her heart. No. That wasn’t going to happen. She would go out there tonight and she would see him, even if she had to climb up the outside of the mansion.

The door of the bell over the front door jingled and she looked up eagerly, but no tall winged figure filled the opening. Instead, a distinguished grey-haired man and a well-dressed blonde entered the shop. Her parents had arrived.

Ten

A ngie stared at her parents in shock. She had told them where she was going, of course, but other than a few quick text messages to let her mother know she was alive, she hadn’t spoken to them since she’d found out about her grandmother. In spite of everything, she’d missed them but she’d never expected them to show up in Screaming Woods.

“Mom, Dad. What are you doing here?”

“We wanted to see—” her mother began.

“It’s time to come home,” her father interrupted. “I’ve given you three months for this foolish idea and it’s not working. You need to come home and find a nice respectable man who will take care of you. Or at least a job that will pay your bills,” he added frowning.

“That’s what this is about?” she asked, her anger starting to surface. “I thought maybe you’d come to apologize for lying to me all those years.”

“It was for your own good.” Her father cast a disparaging look back out at the street just as a zombie strolled past the shop. “What kind of person would choose to live in a town like this?”

“I would,” she said firmly, then looked at her mother. “How could you have done it, Mom?”

“Leave your mother alone,” her father began, but her mother shook her head at him.

“No, we need to talk about this. Please, Angie?”

Angie nodded reluctantly, and her mother gave her a tremulous smile.

“Maybe over a cup of tea?”

“All right.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the entire lack of customers,” her father said sarcastically, but she ignored him and followed her mother back through the shop into the kitchen.

“This place hasn’t changed at all,” her mother said, pulling out the tea cups and putting the kettle on the stove.

“I like it like this,” she said defiantly, and her mother winced.

“I know, sweetheart.”

They sat in silence until the tea was poured and Angie couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Why did you let Dad do it? Why did you let him tell me she was dead?”

Her mother turned the teacup in her hand. “Because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what? You have to know that Gran would never ever have hurt me.”

“Afraid of being different.” Her mother concentrated on the cup. “I never really fit in here, even before everything changed. I was too… bland. Everyone loved my mother, despite her… eccentricities, and I was just her little shadow. I thought it would be different when I went off to college, but I had enough of her in me that I didn’t fit in there either. Mom told me it was their problem, not mine, but I was so unhappy. Then I met your father, and despite the strange clothes and the odd ideas, he saw something in me.”

“Something he wanted to change,” she said bitterly.

“No, sweetheart, you don’t understand. I wanted to change. I didn’t want to be different or strange or eccentric. I didn’t want that for you either.” Tears shone in her mother’s eyes as she put her hand over Angie’s. “I should have realized that you are just like my mother—happy with who you are.”

“I guess I can see why you would think that,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I missed all that time with Gran.”

“I know, but she understood it wasn’t your fault.” Her mother looked down at the teacup again. “I think she allowed it because she finally realized how miserable I had been.”

Angie’s mouth dropped open. “Gran knew?”

Her mother nodded. “We kept in touch. Not often but enough for her to keep up with what you were doing. She loved you very much. Just like I do. And just like your father does, even if he isn’t very good at expressing it.”

“Oh, Mom.”

She hugged her mother, fighting back her own tears. She still didn’t agree with their decision, but she was willing to admit that it had been done out of love.

“Now I suppose we’d better go rescue your father,” her mother said at last, wiping away the tears. “You know he’s not good at being idle.”

She laughed, and they returned to the front of the store. Her father was pacing impatiently around the room, but he stopped long enough to give them both a penetrating glance. Whatever he saw must have reassured him because he nodded firmly.

“Now that’s out of the way, it’s time to discuss your future.”

“My future is right here—running this book shop.”

“But you don’t have any customers. That isn’t the sign of a successful operation.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me it’s just a slow day. If you want to convince me that this is a profitable business, show me your books.”

She gave her mother a despairing look.

“Now, John, it may not be as bad as you think. I think we should give Angie a little more time.”

Before he could respond, the bell over the door jingled again, and the witch from next door walked in.

Great. Just what she needed right now. She did her best to plaster a smile on her face.

“Good morning, Ursula. May I help you?”

“Just came to see if that new cookbook you ordered for me had arrived,” the witch said roughly.

What new cookbook? Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what Ursula was talking about, but before she could respond the witch stomped over to the window.

“I know you said it wouldn’t be here until next week, but I just wanted to check. I’ll go ahead and get this one for now.” She picked up a book and brought it to the cash register.

Somehow, Angie managed to hide her shock and ring up the sale. She even remembered to pull out one of the cute little shopping bags she’d designed. Ursula rolled her eyes at the smiling logo, but fortunately neither of Angie’s parents seemed to notice.

“Good to have someone running the bookstore again,” Ursula said and stalked off, leaving the distinct scent of sulfur behind her.

Her father looked absolutely horrified, but her mother looked surprisingly thoughtful.

“What—who was that?” he demanded.

“That’s Ursula. She’s the witch who runs the shop next door. You should stop by. Her moisturizing lotion is very good.”

“Moisturizing lotion?” He snorted. “What’s it made out of? Eye of newt?”

“Now, John, you shouldn’t be prejudiced,” her mother said absently.

Both Angie and her father stared at her mother but she didn’t seem to notice, still staring after Ursula.

“I remember Ursula. She and Mom were always arguing about something.” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I bet Mom got such a kick out of Ursula turning into a witch.”

Whatever her dad’s faults were, he hated seeing her mother upset. He immediately put his arm around her shoulders and pulled out his handkerchief. Her mother dabbed her eyes and gave him a grateful smile.

The bell jingled again. This time, it was the orc with his pretty little girlfriend. The huge male glared suspiciously at her father, then followed his girlfriend around the store as she picked out half a dozen books. She gave Angie a warm smile when she brought them to the register.

“I’m Rylee,” she whispered, too quietly for her parents to hear, then raised her voice. “These were just what I was looking for. You always have exactly what I need, Angie.”

The flow of traffic never stopped. A couple of people just came to browse—including a bird-like little man who settled into one of the chairs by the fireplace and promptly fell asleep—but most of them bought at least one book. All of them greeted her as if they were regular consumers.

Alastair must be responsible, she thought, warmth filling her at the realization. Every time the bell jingled she looked up eagerly, expecting to see him, but he never appeared. When afternoon rolled around and he still hadn’t come to see her, she decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She headed for the front door and started to switch the sign from open to closed.

“What are you doing?” her father demanded.

Both her parents had remained throughout the morning. Her father had taken up a position to one side of the sales counter, observing closely, and she was quite sure he was calculating her profit and loss. Her mother, on the other hand, had settled into the big window seat with a book, but Angie noticed that she rarely turned a page. Instead, she watched the incoming customers. Several of the older customers recognized her and stopped to talk, and she always looked both shocked and pleased.

“You can’t close the store in the middle of the day,” her father barked. “If you want this to be a successful business, you have to treat it like a business.”

His words echoed what she had said to Alastair that morning, but now she realized they were only partially true. She still wanted the bookstore to succeed, but she had forgotten one thing. Angie’s happiness would have been far more important to her grandmother than any business. She lifted her chin.

“I do want it to be successful, but right now I need to do something more important. I’m pretty sure taking a lunch break isn’t going to ruin my business, but if it does, so be it. I have someone I have to see.”

“Who?” her father demanded.

“I’ll tell you later.”

She reached for the sign again, but her father sighed and intercepted her.

“Leave it open. I’ll take care of the store while you’re gone.”

“You?” Considering the way her father had glared suspiciously at the more unusual inhabitants of Screaming Woods, that seemed even more problematic than actually closing the store.

“We’ll take care of it,” her mother said, appearing at his side and giving her a warm smile. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It will be fine.”

She gave her mother a quick grateful smile and slipped out the door. As soon as she hit the street, she started to run. She was quite sure she was making a spectacle of herself, but she didn’t care. Unfortunately, she tripped over the curb in her haste and started to go flying. Her hands flew out to brace herself and they collided with a warm, hard chest. Familiar green eyes glowed down at her. Alastair had caught her once again.

Eleven

A lastair’s arms tightened around Angel with a sigh of relief. He’d been afraid he wouldn’t reach her in time to prevent the fall. A few passersby gave him a curious look, and he realized he’d used his wings in public for the first time. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, not with his woman safe in his arms.

Or was she his woman? He’d been so sure this morning, but then she’d rejected his suggestion to move in with him. It had taken longer than it should have done for him to realize how badly he had expressed himself.

At least she didn’t seem angry any longer, looking up at him with a glowing smile.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What was me?”

“All the customers in the shop. You sent them, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t send them,” he said truthfully. “But after I left you this morning I talked to Mrs. Lancaster. We realized we needed to spread the word about why you were here. About what had happened with your grandmother.”

He’d been prepared to do much more if necessary, but Zelda had been well-liked. Once the residents realized the truth, they didn’t hesitate to support Angel.

He realized they were still standing in the middle of the street and led her over to a bench tucked amidst the greenery in the town square. She came willingly and as soon as they sat down, she turned to him.

“Thank you.” Her lips brushed his in a much too brief kiss before she pulled back. “About this morning…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t handle it well.”

“Neither did I.” Her breasts rose temptingly as she took a deep breath. “Why did you ask me to move in? Just because the shop wasn’t doing well?”

“No.” He hesitated, then told her the truth. “I want you to move in because I love you. I want to go to sleep holding you, and I want to wake up and see your face. If you don’t want to live in the mansion, we can live over the book shop. Or anywhere else you want—even if it means leaving Screaming Woods.”

“I would never ask you to do that.”

“I would prefer to remain here,” he admitted. “But not without you.”

“I don’t want to be without you either,” she whispered. “I love you too.”

Relief washed over him as he pulled her into his arms. Passion flared between them as he kissed her, and it wasn’t until he heard a distinct cough that he remembered they were in public. He reluctantly raised his head, smiling down into her flushed face.

“I think we’d better continue this later. After business hours,” he added. “Who’s looking after the book shop?”

“Would you believe my parents?” She shook her head. “They showed up this morning.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. I’m actually glad they came. My mom and I had a good talk.”

“And your father?”

“He hasn’t changed,” she said dryly. “But I try to remember that he means well.”

“I’m glad that you have reconciled with them. I still miss my parents.”

Her hand closed over his, and then she wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t suppose you want to meet them?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I think my mom will be okay, but my father might be a jerk. Don’t get upset if he says something rude—I’ll talk to him.”

“There is nothing he could say that would upset me,” he said truthfully. As long as his Angel loved him, he didn’t care about the rest of the world.

“All right. Then let’s go face the music.”

They walked back to the shop hand in hand, and he never once had the inclination to hide. How could he when he was with the most beautiful woman in town?

She gripped his hand even tighter as they entered the shop and she led him to the couple standing at the cash register. The family connection between mother and daughter was quite clear, despite their very different looks. Angel’s father gave him a suspicious look as Angel introduced him.

“Mom and Dad, I want you to meet my… boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend?” her father scoffed, even as her mother gave him a warm smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Blanche Taylor.”

“And I’m John Taylor.” Angel’s father glared at him. “Angie is my daughter.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you. I’m Alastair Bennington.”

“I don’t care—” Her father jerked to a halt. “Did you say Alastair Bennington?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You’re the CEO of the ABC Corporation?”

Why did the other man look so stunned? A sudden hunch made him search his memory. Ah. Somehow, he managed not to grin triumphantly.

“There is a John Taylor who is my vice president of sales for the Eastern Region. Is that you?”

“Yes. Sir,” John added hastily.

“CEO?” Angel asked. “Of my father’s company?”

“Yes.”

She looked from him to her father, then started to laugh. He grinned back, and even her mother looked amused. Her father did not look happy, but did his best to smile as well.

Alastair decided this was going to be a lot easier than he’d expected.

Angel’s parents remained until the shop closed. The conversation between the four of them had been stilted at best, but there were enough customers to defuse the tension. Her parents were staying at a bed and breakfast in a nearby town, but they promised to return the following day. He thought about offering to let them spend the night at the mansion, but decided they all needed a little bit of space and time to adjust.

Angel seemed to agree. She hugged them, waved goodbye, and then turned to him with a sigh of relief. He pulled her into his arms.

“What a day,” she murmured.

“It has been somewhat… eventful.”

“You can say that again. How about a glass of wine?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

He followed her to the kitchen at the back, noting how little had changed since Zelda’s time. The place had suited the older woman, but it suited Angel as well.

She poured them each a glass of wine, then curled up on his lap to drink it. He tightened his arm around her, grateful at how comfortable she seemed with him.

A plaintive meow sounded from outside the kitchen door and Angel sighed.

“Poor Cruickshank. I don’t think he’s ever going to accept that this isn’t his home anymore.”

“That reminds me.” He took out the small vial and handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

“An anti-allergy potion.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You told me how badly you felt about the cat so I came up with a solution. It should eliminate your symptoms.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes. Go ahead and take a spoonful.”

She obeyed, wrinkling her nose at the taste, and he made a note to work on that aspect of the potion.

“How quickly does it work?” she asked eagerly.

“Find out for yourself. Let him in.”

She opened the door and Cruickshank strolled in as if he owned the place. He gave Alastair a disdainful look, then wound himself around Angel’s ankles. She bent down and gave him a cautious pat, then another, then scooped the cat up on her arms with a triumphant smile.

“I’m not sneezing!”

“Excellent. You’ll need daily doses at first, but your immunity should eventually build up to the point where you only need it once a month.”

Her smile blinded him. “You’re a genius.”

“I wish I could take all the credit, but in this case, the formula is partially based on one of Ursula’s remedies.”

“You mean it’s a witch’s potion?”

“Let’s just say that magic and medicine met in the middle.”

She laughed and put Cruickshank back on the ground. He immediately jumped up on the nearest chair and curled into a ball, looking perfectly at home. Angel smiled at the cat, then came over and sat on his lap again.

“Thank you. It feels good to know he’s home again.”

He thought about how well the place suited her.

“Do you want to stay here with him? I meant it when I said I would live wherever you want.”

She tilted her head and considered the idea.

“I would like to stay here sometimes, but I would like to spend time at your house too. And who knows? Maybe Cruickshank would like the mansion as well.” Her hand lifted to touch his cheek. “But the details don’t matter. As long as we’re together, I’ll feel at home.”

He hugged her, his heart too full for words as the long years of loneliness melted away. He too had found his home.

Epilogue

T wo months later…

THE EARLY WINTER sunset painted the surrounding hills in shades of rose and gold as the solstice festival began transitioning from day to night. Carts selling hot cider and hot dogs popped up around the town square as some of the vendors began closing their stalls. Angie had already decided to leave hers open until the fireworks began. She’d been doing a brisk business all day and wasn’t in any hurry to close up. Although…

“Mom, can you watch the stall for a few minutes? I want to go and check on the exhibit.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Her mother smiled at her from the other end of the stall. Her parents had become regular visitors to Screaming Woods, and her mother had accepted the town’s differences with surprising ease. Angie hoped that meant her mother was finally at peace with herself.

Her father was still suspicious, but he managed to mask it—at least most of the time. He’d even struck up a cautious friendship with the vampire who owned a local restaurant over their shared love of high-end sports cars. It probably helped that the vampire was comparatively human-looking.

She waved goodbye to her mom and headed over to the Town Hall, entering just as the last visitors left. A moment later, two warm arms curved around her from behind and she leaned back into Alastair’s embrace.

“Do you like the way it turned out?” she asked.

“You know I do.”

The carefully curated objects filling the Town Hall had been her idea—a way to share some of his family’s collection with the world—but he’d been an enthusiastic participant in the process.

“A reporter wants to do a story about it,” he added.

“What did you tell her?”

“That I would think about it. But as long as it’s limited to the collection, I think I’m going to agree.”

She turned in his arms and smiled up at him.

“I know you wanted to share your treasures with the world.”

“Only some of my treasures.”

His eyes glowed green, and the familiar tingle of arousal spread through her body.

“Not all of them?” she teased.

“No,” he growled. “The most precious ones are just for me.”

He bent his head to kiss her. She waited expectantly, but he paused with his mouth a few inches away from hers.

“Are you up for an adventure?”

She bit her lip. “Now? I promised Mom I wouldn’t be gone long.”

“Don’t worry. Mrs. Lancaster went to keep her company.”

It hadn’t surprised either of them that the two women had become good friends, and she nodded approvingly.

“In that case, yes.”

“Then come with me.”

He locked the doors, then took her hand and led her up the stairs to the bell tower that rose over the roof. From here, they could see the lights of the festival below and watch residents and visitors alike enjoying the brisk evening.

“I used to come here a lot,” he murmured. “Watching everything from a distance.”

“You do like to watch,” she agreed, letting her hand drift across his cock.

He laughed, thrusting into her hand. “Not that kind of watching. You’re the only one I want to watch that closely.”

“Good.”

His face sobered. “I always felt like I was distant from everyone else. Until you came along. I love you, Angel.”

“I love you too.”

His hand tightened around hers.

“I talked to your father today.”

She winced. Despite knowing that Alastair was the CEO of his company, her father still struggled to accept him.

“How did that go?”

“Better than I expected,” he said thoughtfully as he slipped something cold over her finger. “He said yes.”

Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he could hear it.

“Yes to what?”

“Yes, to giving me his blessing. Yes, to allowing me to ask you to marry me.”

Her gaze dropped to the ring now sparkling on her finger, two rows of diamonds locked together in a lover’s knot. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I wouldn’t have cared if he said no.”

“And it wouldn’t have stopped me from asking, but I’m glad he agreed.” His eyes were fixed on her face, as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him. “Will you marry me, Angel?”

“Of course I will.”

He gave a triumphant cry, and then his mouth descended over hers, sweeping her into a passionate kiss. His amazing tongue teased her, building her arousal as she pressed her throbbing nipples against his hard chest. She slid her hand between their bodies, trying desperately to free his cock, and he raised his head, his eyes glowing with the familiar green light.

“Here?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

He lifted her easily into his arms, lodging her against his cock as his hands slid beneath her long skirt. He gripped her ass, rubbing her slowly and tantalizingly across the thick ridge.

“I have a better idea.”

“Better than this?” she demanded, already on the verge of climax.

“Do you remember that adventure I promised you?”

“Yes.”

“Will you fly with me?”

“Of course,” she said, wondering why he asked.

They had flown together several times, and she’d always enjoyed it. But then he shifted his position and she felt his cock slide between her thighs. Her eyes widened.

“You mean while we’re making love?”

“Yes,” he growled. “While we’re locked together.”

The thought that someone might see them briefly crossed her mind, but she immediately dismissed it.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He thrust into her in one hard stroke, filling her completely, and her body quivered on the edge of climax. He waited until her eyes opened and her legs tightened around his waist.

“Ready?”

When she nodded, he leaped into the air, the movement embedding his cock even deeper inside her. The stars whirled dizzily overhead as she clung to him. His knot was already expanding, locking them together, and her climax swept over her. Lights exploded in her vision, mingling with the stars, as together they soared into the night.

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for reading Extra Virgin Gargoyle! I had so much fun bringing monsters into our world - especially when it’s a monster like Alastair!

Whether you enjoyed the story or not, it would mean the world to me if you left an honest review on Amazon – reviews are one of the best ways to help other readers find my books!

As usual, I have to thank my readers for coming on these adventures with me - I couldn’t do it without you!

And, as always, a special thanks to my beta team – Janet S, Nancy V, and Kitty S. Your thoughts and comments are incredibly helpful!

If you liked this sweet and steamy romance between a human female and a rather… different hero, you’ll love Sinta - a fun, snowbound holiday tale!

Sinta is available on Amazon!

Look for the rest of the

Monster Between the Sheets series!

Watt and Bothered by Fiona Davenport

His Heartbeat by Kat Baxter

Now You See Me by Karla Doyle

Knot Running From Fate by Ember Davis

A Bride for the Beast by Nichole Rose and Fern Fraser

Naga Say Never by Kylie Marcus

Dragon of My Dreams by Andie Fenichel

Bad Boy Minotaur by Michele Mills

Ogre My Dead Body by Violet Rae

Orc Me Baby One More Time by Ava Ross

Extra Virgin Gargoyle by Honey Phillips

Something Wicked This Way Comes by Elle Christensen

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Other Titles

The Alien Abduction Series

Anna and the Alien

Beth and the Barbarian

Cam and the Conqueror

Deb and the Demon

Ella and the Emperor

Faith and the Fighter

Greta and the Gargoyle

Hanna and the Hitman

Izzie and the Icebeast

Joan and the Juggernaut

Kate and the Kraken

Lily and the Lion

Mary and the Minotaur

Nancy and the Naga

Olivia and the Orc

Pandora and the Prisoner

Quinn and the Queller

The Alien Invasion Series

Alien Selection

Alien Conquest

Alien Prisoner

Alien Breeder

Alien Alliance

Alien Hope

Exposed to the Elements

The Naked Alien

The Bare Essentials

A Nude Attitude

The Buff Beast

The Strip Down

Seven Brides for Seven Alien Brothers

Artek

Benjar

Callum

Drakkar

Endark

Folsom Planet Blues

Alien Most Wanted: Caged Beast

Alien Most Wanted: Prison Mate

Alien Most Wanted: Mastermind

Alien Most Wanted: Unchained

Horned Holidays

Krampus and the Crone

A Gift for Nicholas

A Kiss of Frost

Monster Between the Sheets

Extra Virgin Gargoyle

Cyborgs on Mars

High Plains Cyborg

The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg

A Fistful of Cyborg

A Few Cyborgs More

The Magnificent Cyborg

The Outlaw Cyborg

Treasured by the Alien

Mama and the Alien Warrior

A Son for the Alien Warrior

Daughter of the Alien Warrior

A Family for the Alien Warrior

The Nanny and the Alien Warrior

A Home for the Alien Warrior

A Gift for the Alien Warrior

A Treasure for the Alien Warrior

Cosmic Fairy Tales

Jackie and the Giant

Stranded with an Alien

Sinta

Blind Date with an Alien

Her Alien Farmhand

Anthologies

Claimed Among the Stars

Pets in Space 7

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Honey Phillips writes steamy science fiction stories about hot alien warriors and the human women they can’t resist. From abductions to invasions, the ride might be rough, but the end always satisfies.

Honey wrote and illustrated her first book at the tender age of five. Her writing has improved since then. Her drawing skills, unfortunately, have not. She loves writing, reading, traveling, cooking, and drinking champagne - not necessarily in that order.

Honey loves to hear from her wonderful readers! You can stalk her at any of the following locations…

www.facebook.com/HoneyPhillipsAuthor

www.bookbub.com/authors/honey-phillips

www.instagram.com/HoneyPhillipsAuthor

www.honeyphillips.com

Table of Contents

Title Page

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other Titles

About the Author