How to Seduce a Gargoyle in 10 Days

How to Seduce a Gargoyle
 in 10 Days

Saranna DeWylde

Got gargoyle?

Ginger Butterbean would like to, but she’s not sure how to go about it. Her marriage of a hundred years has crumbled to dust and she’s worried her witchy bits might be so full of cobwebs, they’ve malfunctioned. She needs sexy gargoyle Slade Nightwing to remind her of what it means to be a witch and that love isn’t just a fairytale.

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HOW TO SEDUCE A GARGOYLE IN 10 DAYS

Wicked Series

Copyright © 2015 SARANNA DEWYLDE

ISBN: 978-1-943576-36-2

All Romance eBooks, LLC Palm Harbor, Florida 34684
www.allromanceebooks.com

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First All Romance eBooks publication: October 2015

Ginger Butterbean had made a total ass out of herself at Midnight Cherrywood’s bachelorette tea.

She’d been raised in a time when witches didn’t behave the way she had. If her mother were alive, she’d have zapped her wrists with magick lightning the same as she had when Ginger was a witchling and used her magick inappropriately.

She sighed and decided that warlock society could damn well give her a break. Her marriage of one hundred years was circling the bowl, and a witch was entitled to act a little… crazy.

The little voice in her head reminded her that was really no excuse. Witches of good breeding didn’t behave this way.

Witches of good breeding looked the other way when their husbands cheated on them. Even if it was with Aloe Hugginfroth—slag extraordinaire.

Just thinking the other witch’s name made her hands tighten into claws and her nails dig into her palms.

Logically, she knew that she couldn’t only blame Aloe. Gavin had his part in it. If she were honest with herself, she couldn’t blame Aloe at all. It wasn’t her place to police Ginger’s husband. It wasn’t Ginger’s, either. Gavin had cheated.

If she could stop rage-flailing, she could even see
why
he cheated.

If he’d just left her, it would’ve still stung her pride, and it might have hurt her heart just a little bit. Their marriage had been over for a long time.

It was the public humiliation that made her so angry.

She’d spent her life being the perfect society witch, and this was what she’d earned for her trouble?

She’d only added fuel to the fire at Middy Cherrywood’s bridal tea by being such a bitch, and she’d practically—no, not practically—
actually
fellated the little novelty cock straws that the gargoyle entertainment had been handing out.

Ginger blushed after the fact.

She’d been lusting after them, but she’d denied their countrymen one of their main sources of support when she’d taken Gavin’s name off of her bank account. He was a big supporter of the Gargoyle Ball, a huge charity event that helped support post-war rebuilding. It fed hatchlings, provided medical care...

She was such an asshole.

There was no excuse for her behavior.

She’d gotten her revenge on Gavin. Publicly humiliating him, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

She didn’t know anything that would.

Ginger knew that was a lie. There was one thing that would make her feel better. She hadn’t been touched like a flesh and blood witch in over twenty years.

She wanted someone to pull her hair, fuck her hard, and tell her she was beautiful. She didn’t think that was too tall an order.

Her witchy bits were probably so dried out they were like a condemned building. Everything would come crashing down at the first touch.

Ginger wished she was as bold as Aradia Shadowins. She’d taken a gargoyle lover and didn’t give a flying newt’s ass what anyone thought about it. Ginger could admit that he was a delicious specimen of masculinity.

But it was his brother who’d captured her attention.

Slade Nightwing.

It was actually his wings that had caught her attention. Valerian’s had almost copper coloring, but Slade’s were an iridescent blue-black that reminded her of ravens and fire agate.

And his skin was like black marble—so hard and smooth, but he was still made of shadow and night.

She shivered thinking of him. He was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen; his body like a sculpture—high art.

It was silly the way he made her ache. Just because his brother was into witches rather than his own kind didn’t mean Slade was as well. Even if he was, it didn’t mean he’d be into
her
.

After all, if her own husband wasn’t interested, why would anyone else be?

Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, wanting him, and fantasizing what it would be like in his arms.

Would he be a selfish lover? Would he be gentle? Or would he do all those things she wanted him to do?

She was so stupid. Ginger should just cast a pleasure charm or invest in a copy of
Weekly Warlock
and jill off—although that had gotten old ten years ago.

Ginger wouldn’t know the first thing about how to even let him know she was interested. Her marriage to Gavin had been mostly arranged. She’d been amongst those deemed appropriate by his parents, and he’d chosen her. She’d accepted. They’d even managed to fall in love for the first five years.

Now it was all dust—and she was going to be dust too if she didn’t do something about it.

She could be just as forward as Aradia. She could.

Ginger swallowed hard. She’d always used propriety like an armor and taking this step meant shedding part of her armor. It meant being vulnerable when she’d already been burned.

But she knew fortune favored the bold. So, with that in mind, she changed her clothes and decided to pay a visit to Aradia Shadowins.

After all, Slade was in her employ.

The butterflies in her stomach kept crashing into each other and twisting up her guts. She was sure they were drunk.

She was sure that
she
should probably be drunk. Maybe then she’d have an excuse or a way to play off her behavior if Aradia and Slade both laughed in her face.

After casting a quick grooming charm, she found herself on Aradia’s front door—her alarm system announcing Ginger’s presence before she could change her mind.

The door opened and to her simultaneous pleasure and dismay, it was Slade and another gargoyle who opened the door.

Security didn’t usually answer the door. She had other staff for that. Something must’ve happened. Ginger reigned in her curiosity and kept her features schooled in a casual expression.

“The lady of the house, if you please.” Ginger was surprised she was able to get out a complete sentence when faced with the hotness that was Slade Nightwing.

She could feel the heat of his body even at a distance. It was like warm concrete after a day in the sun. Ginger would bet he’d feel that way under her fingertips, too.

A blush rose to her cheeks and her whole body heated to a slow burn.

“Is she expecting you?” The other gargoyle questioned with a stern expression.

“Lady Shadowins will see her,” Slade replied and stepped to the side to allow her entrance.

She was very aware of him at her back as she walked through the large manor house.

“She’s on the veranda. I believe you know your way,” Slade said.

Ginger exited to the outdoor living space. It was almost like Aradia’s own tropical island. There was a beach, with a magical ocean lapping at the shore, fountains and waterfalls, all manner of exotic plants and trees that hung heavy—laden with fruits, nuts, and flowers.

The scents of coconut, pineapple, and salt water assailed her.

Magick was indeed a wonderful thing.

Aradia lay on her stomach, her white-blond hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head, too large sunglasses perched on the end of her nose while Valerian made use of himself slathering tanning oil on her back.

To complete the picture, the other witch was drinking something out of a pineapple, garnished with a little red umbrella.

Ginger decided she should really do something like this for herself as well. It looked like heaven.

“What a surprise,” Aradia said when she looked up and saw her. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“If it’s a bad time—”

“Not at all. Make yourself at home.”

Ginger found herself wearing a tiny red bikini and a pineapple drink in one hand and a bottle of oil in the other. Leaving no hands free to cover up what the bikini didn’t.

She felt positively naked.

And old.

And ugly.

Her breasts were too big for the bikini—hell, everything was too big for the bikini. Especially her ass.

“Um, maybe a one piece?” Ginger mumbled.

Aradia eyed her with a stern expression. “No, I think that will do just fine. What say you, Valerian?”

She wanted to hide away from his perusal.

“I can’t see anyone but you, my lady,” he said back to her.

Aradia gave a pretty blush. “Pish.” She waved him off. “What about you, Slade? Don’t you like Ginger’s suit?”

It was official. Ginger was going to die. But not until after she’d murdered Aradia.

The gargoyle’s eyes raked over her.

It was official, she was dead.

“She looks very soft.”

Soft? Did he mean fat? No, she wasn’t dead. She only wished she was.

Aradia laughed. Yes, her humiliation was complete. She supposed she had it coming since she’d been such a turbo twat lately.

“Soft is a good thing, isn’t it, Slade?” Aradia prompted.

“A very good thing.” His voice was deep and smooth.

“So, um, what’s with the extra security?” Ginger wanted desperately to change the subject.

She positioned herself on the lounger next to Aradia’s.

“Oh, you know. Usual political garbage. There’ve been some threats. The Chancellor was worried.”

“Are you all right?”

Aradia arched a brow. “I think the better question here is are you all right?”

Ginger cringed. “I know I was a perfectly horrible beast at the tea.”

“Just at the tea? Ging, you’ve been rather wretched for the last twenty years.”

“I know.” Ginger sighed and perched her chin in the bowl of her hand. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Aradia eyed her.

Ginger had hoped she’d understand that she wanted to talk without the gargoyles present, but she didn’t take the hint.

“Well?”

“Nevermind.” Ginger sighed.

“I know what you need.”

“Besides a good lay?” Ginger’s eyes widened, and she turned her face further into her hand. She couldn’t believe she’d actually said that.

Aradia laughed. “Well, yes. That’s what I was going to suggest. You need decide what you’re going to do about Gavin, but if he’s having a good time, you should be, too.”

“I wish I could be as bold as you.” Why wouldn’t Ginger’s mouth obey her? First rule of witch society? Never, ever admit weakness.

“So be as bold as I am. What do you want that you think you can’t have?”

Besides Slade? Ginger was so glad that statement hadn’t actually made it to her mouth.

“You’ve taken your life on your terms with absolutely no care for what anyone else thinks, and you’re still Aradia Shadowins—one of the most feared witches in society.”

“That’s because my magick is more powerful than practically any other witch. If they make me angry, I’ll turn them into toads. Full on wicked witch style. So yeah, I do pretty much whatever I want.” Aradia grinned.

“I’m divorcing Gavin,” she said quietly.

“He was never good enough for you anyway.”

She realized Slade was still standing there, waiting for something. Most likely Aradia’s dismissal. His appraisal still burned her skin, or maybe that was the sun. She hadn’t been out in direct sunlight like this for years. Even at the tea, it had it been magickal light and didn’t burn.

“Aradia, can you help me with—” She wanted sunblock, not oil.

“Slade will help you.”

Without a word, the giant gargoyle’s shadow spread over her and his clawed hands stroked down her back covered in the oil.

Aradia sighed as Valerian massaged more oil into her skin. “This is the life, isn’t it?”

Ginger took a long drink of the pineapple concoction before she could say anything stupid. But it didn’t help. “I think I need a security team like yours.”

“I think you do, too. Until you get your own, I could spare Slade for your personal guard. Say, ten days?”

He worked his hands down her back expertly, hitting that spot where all of her tension seemed to hide. He was firm, but gentle. Obviously mindful that his powerful claws could easily pierce her skin.

Somehow, that made her feel safe.