Hearts of Stone by Mina Carter

Author:Mina Carter [Carter, Mina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07H339P1N
Barnesnoble: B07H339P1N
Publisher: Mina Carter
Published: 2018-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Kissing Iliona had been like something out of a dream. A fantasy. The feel of her lips parting under his and her soft body pressing against him were the stuff wet dreams were made of. The snatched moments of bliss in her arms would haunt his dreams for years to come.

Automatically he stacked the big dishwasher in the back of the kitchen, hosing the plates and mugs down before he loaded them. It was a good thing the menial task didn’t take much brainpower. He’d tried to load the scourers at least three times but his mind kept wandering. Hissing at himself as he turned a mug the right way up, he called himself seven types of idiot.

But . . . just the memory of her in his arms got him hot. Hot and hard, which was why he was hiding out back here. He had no clue what human men did, but when a gargoyle got a boner? It was freaking obvious. He might as well paint a neon sign and hang it on his crotch for all to see. Since the last thing he wanted was to be accused of sexual harassment or something, he’d taken the path of least resistance and offered to do all the shitty jobs in here that everyone hated.

Carrying another tray over to the counter, he allowed himself to think back to last night and Iliona’s kitchen. As soon as she’d touched him, his body had flared to life, his cock hard in his pants and his control totally compromised. He’d been hard-pressed not to tear her clothes off there and then, boosting her onto the counter to bury himself balls deep in her hot, curvy body.

Frankie popped her head around the door and whistled to get his attention. “Hey, hunk . . . whatcha doing hiding out in here?”

He froze, making sure to keep his back to her as he looked down to check the state of his body. Crap. There was hard, and there was . . . mountainous.

“Errrr . . . not feeling well,” he rumbled, thinking quickly. “Thought I’d stay back here. Not spread my germs.”

“You’re made of rock half the time, hon . . . what germs could you possibly spread?” Frankie laughed, walking into the kitchen. He edged around, trying to keep his back to her, but she frowned and then dodged quickly to the side.

“What you got there? What are you trying to hi . . . oooohh—” She broke off and looked up at him wide-eyed. Color painted bright banners on her cheeks. “Err, yeah . . . I’d rather you didn’t spread, um . . . that. Or anything from it.” She tilted her head, indecision and curiosity written all over her face.

He sighed, turning. No sense in hiding the state of him now she’d seen it. “Out with it. What do you want to ask?” he added at her confused look. “You obviously want to know something.”

“Ummm . . .” She went even brighter red.

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