Page 17 of Stone Temptation

“I’ll be with you in minute!” Tom called from the other end of the curved bar.

“No!” the woman yelled back at him. “We want this turd to make them and we want them for free!”

Called a skidmark and a turd in one evening. “Smelly.”

I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“What did you say?” the stroppy man demanded. “You saying we stink?”

“So rude.” The woman cracked her knuckles. “I’ll show?—”

A gargoyle knight’s big hand landed on her shoulder. She turned, her face reflected in the brute’s imposing shades.

The man stepped aside for the other knight, eyes wide with terror. “Babe…”

“Leave.” With that one word from both gargoyles, they scurried off to the other side of the bar.

The music changed to something more chilled out, giving the clubbers ten minutes to cool down.

Seth parked himself on a barstool, opening his black fur coat. “Hello, you.”

Nervous heat prickled across my scalp. “Hi.”

“What’s the matter?” he intoned, leaning forward. A gold medallion hung from his neck on a thick gold chain, radiant against his black muscle tee.

“N-Nothing.”

“You look like you’ve dallied with a terror.”

“I’m…” I cleared my throat, holding on to my composure. “I’m fine. Nice to see you.”

“Likewise, Luke. Likewise.”

His heady perfume wafted at me in expensive, citrusy clouds, making my balls tingle, my loins heating up.

God, he was handsome, with a chiseled bone structure like a Hollywood film star from the 1950s, hair the prefect shade of ashy blond, and haunting hazel eyes. A real looker with a love for fur coats and jewelry.

And my cock in his mouth.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked.

“The usual, please.”

I got to work on a Paloma, my mixology fire reignited. Give me a cocktail shaker and I’d give your tastebuds the time of their lives.

I poured out the pink grapefruit soda and tequila. Seth liked his Paloma pink with salt around the rim.

“You’re so talented,” he said, pointing at the shaker.

“Thank you.” I offered him a bright smile.

He ran his finger across the golden surface of the bar. “Nice and clean.”

I poured the concoction over ice, finishing the cocktail with a pink umbrella, sliding the glass over to him. Always on the house, of course. A weaver would never pay for anything.

Seth took a sip, ice tinkling in the glass. “Beautiful. I’m here to see Ian.”

“Oh.”