Chapter 10 #2
Jack Clinton Tucker isn’t the most motivated being I’ve met.
Smiling, I tuck my wings tightly together because the crowd is nearly pulsing with energy.
I wrap my tail around my thigh, hanging the spade inside my knee so it doesn’t get tugged.
When I’m not careful in public, it’s not uncommon for others to bump into me or try to touch my wings or tail—sensitive spots for any gargoyle male.
Spots I only want one person to touch.
“You alright, Hay?”
I glance down at Jasper, who’s staring at me with eyes narrowed.
“You’ve got that look, dude,” he says. “That determined look. What did you just figure out?”
Coughing to mask my surprise, I shake my head. “Nothing, man. Nothing at all. Just thinking about the game.” It’s a lie, but if he can tell, he doesn’t press me on it.
Bluebell bursts through the crowd, eyes wide and heart racing. It shocks me that I can hear it so clearly over the crowd, but I’m focused. Getting obsessive. It’s nearly impossible not to stare at her as she joins us but I make myself scan the crowd in case her brother’s watching.
“I made it all the way to level seven!” she shouts, high-fiving both of her brothers at once.
Jasper yanks on her hair. “Thought you’d make it to nine for sure. You off your game, sis?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know, it’s a scientifically proven fact that women with two or more brothers are prone to dying early. Probably because you’re such a pain in my ass.”
He only grins bigger. “Oh, you love me.”
“I do,” she grumbles, grinning at them both, although Jack’s already turned to flirt with the female gargoyle again.
Jasper claps my shoulder. “Wanna grab another drink? I need to grab Bloob one too.”
If I’m honest, all I want to do is get outta this crazy crowd and find a quiet spot to enjoy a drink with my Tuckers.
“C’mon, Alk!” Bluebell gushes, grabbing my arm and beaming up at me.
In that moment, I know if this woman wants me to hang out at the bar all night, that’s where I’ll be. Because I’m lost in those glittering blue eyes and the tiny wrinkles at the corners when she looks way up at me.
“Lead the way, Tucker,” I say with a laugh, flaring my wings just enough to help part the crowd in front of her.
She drops my arm and spins, pushing through the crowd toward the bar. Jasper and Jack trail behind me. It’s always easier for me to get us through a crowd. Wings and my general size are useful in that way.
At the bar, Bluebell orders us a round of drinks.
Not that it’ll do me much good. It takes a metric boatload of alcohol to get me remotely drunk.
I’m curious to see Bluebell three sheets to the wind, though, floundering around like a ship with all its sails amuck.
Gods, I might be the only monster nerd who knows the meaning of that expression about being drunk.
Jasper cheers when the big troll bartender shoves four shots across the bar toward us.
Taking them in hand, we clink our glasses together in universal cheers.
Bluebell throws her shot back, staring at me while she does.
She’s a little unsteady, slumping to one side as she downs the shot.
Reaching out, she grabs my forearm with one hand, hanging onto me as she wipes her free hand over her mouth and grins.
When she sets the shot glass back on the bar she smiles up at us.
Her hand is still on me and I dread the moment she moves it. She touched me so easily and I don’t want to lose that.
Is it hours later that we finally agree it’s time to leave? I’ve lost track of time because we’ve been at the bar drinking and laughing, and it’s everything I can do to pay attention to Jasper and Jack and not the beautiful woman living it up and laughing more easily than I’ve seen in many years.
She needed this. That much is clear. And that’s why I stay out so long. Eventually, though, her energy flags, and she sits at the bar with her chin in her hand, smiling at her brothers.
Jasper clinks yet another shot glass to mine.
“Dude, take my sister home, would ya? She looks like she’s about to pass out on the bar, and that would be embarrassing for the Tucker reputation.
” He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna have to cut out early to study for a few hours, but I’m cutting her off now. Can I pass caretaking duties to you?”
Chuckling, I wrap an arm around Bluebell’s back and under her right arm. She shifts easily off the stool, although when she stands, she sways against me.
“You two are assholes!” She points at her brothers. “I did the Tucker reputation super proud, stayed on until level seven. I’d like to see you stay on past that.”
Jasper winks between us. “Don’t you worry about how well I ride, little sister. That ain’t ever been a problem for me.”
Bluebell makes a gagging sound and taps my arm. “That’s our cue to go, Alk. C’mon. Take me home, big boy.”
The command isn’t inherently sexual, but the way she says it tightens my sack anyhow.
“She’s a mess,” Jasper mutters.
“No, she’s not,” I bark before I can stop myself.
Jasper’s dark brows rise, and he looks between Bluebell and me. “Okay, big guy, if you say so.” He claps me on the shoulder. “You want help getting her home?”
“I think I can handle it.” I force a smile so he knows we’re good. Pulling Bluebell carefully with me, I leave the other Tuckers behind as we head toward the exit.
She’s quiet all the way back to the Bodice, humming softly with her arm around my waist. The scent of tequila radiates from her, but it mixes with her natural essence until I’m rock-hard thinking about licking that tequila from every inch of her body.
Gods. I’m down bad. I don’t know if I even fully admitted it to myself until this very moment.
But if I had my way right now, I’d be having my way with her up against the wall.
Then again in our stairwell. At least once in our hallway.
And then over and over and over again in my nest. And when she passed out, I’d let her sleep, and I’d rub all over her, massaging that sexy body and loving on her until she woke again.
I wouldn’t get sleep for days. Not with Bluebell Tucker in my bed.
I’m slowly going insane with need. Every moment I spend with her breaks down the walls I’ve put up over the years.
It was easier when I was in school and didn’t see her so frequently.
But now? A switch in my brain has fully flipped, and I’m barely holding back from following my deepest, most basic primal instincts.
This zero-to-sixty obsession is so typically gargoyle, but if I’m honest with myself I’ve been holding it at bay for such a long time, I just can't anymore. It’s impossible with her living right across the hall.
We make it all the way to her door before she looks up at me with a silly, open smile. “You’re cute, Alk, ya know that? Too cute for your own good.”
“You’re drunk,” I say with a laugh, thumping her nose with my left hand.
“Not so drunk,” she corrects. “It was a fun night, though. I enjoyed myself.” She slips her hands over her head and stretches tall from left to right. “Good to get out of my head sometimes, ya know? I’m just so busy all the time.”
That’s a conversation I’d love to have with her sometime when she isn’t drunk.
She slips her keys out of her back pocket and swings them around her finger, but they go flying and hit me, sliding down my body and hitting the ground with a clink.
“Shit,” she mutters, dropping to the ground. As she does, her to do list falls out of her pocket and lands on the keys. She moves so slowly to grab them that I get a quick look and holy shit—is this all for a single day?!
Cottage healing at units 234 and 712.
Follow up with dad about purchase paperwork.
Check with supplier about the Mead Cute order for the Bodice.
Reorganize the storeroom.
Invoices through Wednesday.
Call Rhubarb Ranch about final decision re: spring planting
And that’s just what I see at a quick glance.
Her hair falls to either side of her head, exposing the sunburst tattoo on the back of her neck. I reach for her before remembering I shouldn’t just touch her like that. Not yet.
When she rises, her face is flushed, and her scent explodes between us, thickening until I’m choking on pheromones and need.
“Bluebell.” My throat is rough with need. I bracket my hand on the wall above her head, dipping low as she backs against the solid surface.
“Hadrian?” She stares up at me, heart racing and mouth slightly open.
Drifting closer, I bring my mouth to her ear, loving how she mewls softly and shudders. I nuzzle the edge of her ear, deciding that a tease might be exactly what she needs right now.
A soft groan escapes me as I drag my mouth along the curved shell of her ear. “You smell good like this, Bluebell. Relaxed.”
She turns her head just enough to hover her mouth close to mine. “Is this supposed to help me relax more, Hadrian?”
Dropping my voice low, I let out a satisfied chuckle.
“No, my pretty little neighbor. Not at all.” Straightening tall, I grin at her as I shove my hands into my back pockets and tuck my wings behind me.
I want to take that first kiss, but I don’t want it when she’s drunk.
I don’t want there to be any confusion when I kiss her for the first time.
“Good night, Miss Tucker.”
She lifts her chin, shooting me a snooty, imperious look.
I love it. That sass. Beneath it all, there’s a tender side of Bluebell.
A side that’s in desperate need of someone in her corner.
That’s me, even though she probably doesn’t know it yet.
She needs someone for those quiet moments between the rush and mess.
The two a.m. cuddle sesh. The post dinner clean up.
And everything in between. She does it all alone and I really, really hate that for her.
She shoves her keys in her door lock and opens it. After disappearing inside, she pokes her head back out and sticks her tongue out at me. “Tease.” That said, she goes back inside and slams the door.
Chuckling, I turn and head into my apartment. Inside, I change out of clothes that smell like a bar and into gray sweatpants. I forego the shirt. There’s no one here to be offended by my state of half nudity.
Faint singing filters through my door from Bluebell’s apartment. Normally, I don’t listen for her, but tonight I’m amped and hot, and her scent is buried in my nostrils so deeply. My cock hardens against my thigh, stretching against the fabric of my pants as I twitch an ear to listen.
She’s singing and humming, although I can’t make out any particular song. Stalking across the hall, I press my ear to her front door. It’s not like anyone is going to come up here. We’re the only two apartments on the Bodice’s second story.
The sound of clothes hitting the floor has me holding back a groan.
I reach down and grip my dick through the sweatpants, stroking down the length just once.
Heat flares from the base of my shaft, my skin tingling as my sack tightens.
Precum drips from me like a faucet at the mere idea of Bluebell naked on the other side of this door.
Springs squeak as she drops into bed, still humming. Moments later, the sound of something vibrating reverberates from inside. I do groan then, as the vibrations rise and fall. Her moans are soft and inconsistent at first, her bed springs squeaking faintly. Fuuuuuck.
She must not realize quite how good my senses are.
I’m pressed to the doorway, hand on my cock, and I start stroking faster up and down my rigid length, pulling gently at the piercings that line the underside.
Squeezing my tip, I gather the moisture there and use it to jerk myself roughly.
Soft groans fill my throat, growls following as the sound of her vibrator amps my lust.
I press my forehead to her door, shoving my hand inside my pants for skin on skin. Gripping my cock, I choke out a groan as heat spears through me, my abs tensing and tightening as Bluebell cries out inside.
Something clicks, and her vibrator whirs faster, her bed squeaking rapidly. Wood cracks and splinters. Gods, is she gripping her headboard? It’s what I imagine she’s doing as I jack myself hard and fast.
“Say my name, baby,” I beg softly through the door. If she utters my name, I’m ripping this door off the hinges to get to her.
“Oh gods,” she moans. The vibrator makes sounds like a jet engine taking off.
I’m dying, moaning against the hard surface of her door as she masturbates inside.
“Say my name,” I plead again. “Bluebell.”
She makes a choked sound, then a muffled scream like she has her hand clapped over her mouth. The scent of her coming undoes me, and orgasm hits me like a freight train. Baring my fangs, I ride out waves of pleasure, jerking my hips against her door as I fantasize about being buried inside her.
“Say it,” I beg softly once more. “Fuuuuuck.”
I’m whining with need by the time her orgasm fades.
Mine drags long, and I’m still coming like a fucking faucet as she rolls out of bed and turns the water on.
When she steps into the shower and starts humming again, I flip against the door, panting so hard, I’m seeing stars.
I stalk across the hall, sweatpants soaked through and dripping cum all over the hallway floor.
She didn’t say my name.
Fuck me.