Red-Hot Lover Read online

  Red-Hot Lover

  Mel Teshco

  Book 3 in the Winged and Dangerous series.

  A hot-blooded gargoyle, Zahlee knows that Steele, her gargoyle lover and leader of the Triskellon clan, is her perfect match in every way. But she burns for just one more touch from Saul, the human lover she left behind so many years ago. The same human she entrusted to raise and care for her son, Pascal—to keep him safe from the dangers of the gargoyle lifestyle.

  Steele banishes Zahlee from the Triskellon clan and forces her to return to Saul and extinguish all yearning for her mortal ex. She quickly discovers a renewed lust for the only man she has ever loved. Their chemistry cannot be denied and combusts into a raging wildfire she never wants to end.

  Zahlee yearns for happiness with her son and her human lover. A gargoyle must sacrifice much to live in the human world, but she is willing to give all for their love.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Red-Hot Lover

  ISBN 9781419936807

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Red-Hot Lover Copyright © 2011 Mel Teshco

  Edited by Pamela Campbell

  Cover design by Syneca

  Photography: Adam Gryko/Shutterstock.com and Romancenovelcovers.com

  Electronic book publication October 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

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  Red-Hot Lover

  Mel Teshco

  Chapter One

  Zahlee sucked in a breath and held her outstretched wings steady. Hot, blustery wind streamed past. Adrenaline burned through her veins, not quite neutralizing the icy shivers of alarm shooting up and down her spine.

  The ground blurred just meters beneath her soaring, outstretched body but she was going too fast for touchdown now. She’d pushed her ability to the limit, trusted in her flight instincts to beat her lover at his own daring.

  Oh, god. I’m not going to make it.

  Then the rocky, arid Australian ground dotted with parched grasses abruptly dropped away. Her dancing shadow disappeared into the vast emptiness of a deep valley below and she sailed high through the air, the treetops a distant green below.

  She let loose a discordant, exhilarated laugh that dispersed into the bright midday air as a whole different adrenaline overtook her.

  Steele, her gargoyle lover, closed in from behind.

  An updraft snatched them high. As they leveled out Zahlee wheeled to the left, back into the updraft that would take her higher still. Steele followed, his webbed wings, slightly larger than her eight-foot wingspan, deftly manipulating the thermal currents.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, dizzy not from the ever-shrinking scenery below but the delicious lust ricocheting through her naked body and making her pulse race.

  This was living! No clothes. No cares. Just the open sky. And the man—gargoyle—ready to take her.

  The wind blew along the crease of her pussy, tightening her nipples harder still. Her long hair that she’d snagged into a topknot, whipped errant, dark curls in front of her face, blinding her to Steele as his big hands locked on to her shoulders.

  Her pulse pounding in her ears, she moaned, so turned on his touch alone almost sent her into orgasm.

  His wings snapped in the air just above hers as he spread her legs with one muscled, hard thigh. His cock teased the opening of her pussy for just a moment, where nerve endings tingled and throbbed with anticipation.

  This was just what she needed—who she needed? Her breath caught on a half sob. She didn’t want anyone else but Steele. Certainly not the human lover she’d abandoned so many years ago.

  Saul Daniels.

  Her belly clenched. She’d promised herself to never think of him again.

  Fool. She’d thought of little else.

  Steele pulled her back. She gasped as his cock speared deep into her tight, wet cunt. And already close to the edge, she instantly climaxed, crying out as Steele rocked inside her then came right after her, his hot seed shooting deep into her contracting pussy.

  Their midair fuck had to be brief. They were losing altitude fast.

  Steele’s hands clasped her face from behind. Still joined, he angled her head so that his mouth could settle on hers in a swift, hard kiss that stamped her as his in the most fundamental way.

  Then his head reared back. She glimpsed the flash of his possessive gaze and something else shadowed beneath—a dark, hidden emotion that sent her senses into overdrive.

  Something was wrong.

  Her breath hissed as he abruptly disengaged. His hand moved to claim hers as he skimmed through the air beside her, carefully elevating his wings above hers.

  A clearing, aptly named “the strip”, which the Triskellon clan frequently used to land safely, came into sight.

  She sneaked a sideward look at her lover, her belly churning. She was all too aware he wanted the one thing she couldn’t give, the only thing.

  Her love.

  His expression radiated intensity. And though he was a passionate, hot-blooded male, particularly after sex, there was a set hardness to his face this time, a tension along his jawline.

  Her heart dropped. It should have been all too easy to love him, indeed, there were plenty of women who did. Only, she couldn’t give that part of herself.

  It had already been taken.

  In unison they folded their wings, their legs dropping vertically underneath. He released her hand as they landed with knees bent and their wingtips meeting before compressing together at the back.

  They walked together noiselessly through the towering gums, bunya pines and wattle trees where fierce sunlight barely peeked through the foliage overhead. Unable to take the suffocating silence one second longer, she clasped his forearm and drew him to a stop beside her. “Steele, what’s wrong?”

  He looked ahead, his nostrils flaring as he echoed, “What’s wrong?” He twisted toward her, his waist-length, dark hair swishing across his spine, concealing the word Triskellon that had been seared into his skin. His blue-green eyes burned like the sun glinting on the surface of the deep sea. “I’m in love with a woman who is in love with someone else.”

  Her breath caught. So things were out in the open. At last.

  She couldn’t deny his words. She was still in love with Saul no matter how much she tried to deny it. That Steele was obsessed with
her wasn’t any surprise. She’d seen it in his every longing look, his every tender touch and every fierce mating.

  Steele should have been her perfect mate. Not only was he the most powerful member of the Triskellon clan—making him their natural-born leader—he was intelligent, handsome as sin, courageous and loyal.

  He could also be controlling, unyielding and more than a little manipulative. In general those were great attributes to possess as gargoyle leader but those very “qualities” had been to Zahlee’s detriment. “I…I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

  “Don’t say anything,” he rasped. “I know you still want your human.”

  She shook her head in denial. Steele could never learn the truth. Already his love for her teetered dangerously close to obsession. It would be stupid, reckless, to acknowledge his suspicions. “No! No, I—”

  “You screamed his name at the height of orgasm,” he growled thickly. “You were thinking of him, not me.”

  Oh, dear god. She closed her eyes, forcing back a hot flush of fear. “Steele…I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.” His eyes glowed, hot and reproachful. His hands moved to her shoulders, his grip fierce. “Don’t dare feel sorry for me.” Pride was stamped on his face. “That is the one thing I could not forgive you for.”

  Zahlee stayed mute and still as he nodded once, then released her and stepped back. Seconds later he turned and melted into the trees, leaving her trembling and alone with her thoughts.

  As anxiety receded an icy hand of guilt clutched at her heartstrings. Anyone else would bask in Steele’s love, feel fortunate to have such devotion from one so powerful and handsome.

  Anyone wasn’t her.

  She let out a weary, resigned sigh. It was time to forget her human lover once and for all. She only wished, yet again, that she’d never left her son in his care.

  She’d lost sleep wondering if maybe she could have protected her son, Pascal, even out here in the vast interior of Australia with the crude rules that governed the Triskellongargoyles. The human world could be as harsh as the gargoyle edicts, undoubtedly more so by some of Saul’s standards.

  Guilt slid like toxin through her blood. Her “freedom of the skies” had been bought at great cost. Not only had she lost her only child, she’d given up the love of her life too.

  Resolve steeled her spine as she began the long walk back to her Triskellon comrades. She’d made her choice, she’d have to live with that decision and push all regrets aside.

  She shivered a little, and rubbed her arms. But she wasn’t cold. Though Steele’s obsession with her gnawed at her gut like an ulcer, he’d been much more to her than a lover. He’d become her protector, her guardian of sorts after he’d sought retribution in her honor when she’d been too emotionally overwrought to seek it herself.

  But nothing could stop the panic attacks that had been left behind, a legacy of her assault.

  She bit her lower lip. Yes, she should be counting her blessings Steele loved her, despite her failings as his heart-mate. As for her precious son, he would always be a tangible link to the lover she’d never forget.

  A winged shadow flickered across the foliage above, circling a few times overhead until the gargoyle was all but skimming the treetops. Zahlee sucked in a breath. This aerial display was silent communication she was wanted. Urgently.

  She broke into a fast run, towards the direction of a small clearing just half a mile ahead. The gargoyle overhead would have little choice but to land there—the clearing she and Steele had used was too far away.

  When she broke through the trees and into the grassy patch of land, Lolita, an elder of the Triskellon clan, was waiting, visibly impatient.

  “There you are!”

  Zahlee frowned. “What happened?”

  “Not what. Who.”

  Her frown deepened. “Lolita, what do you mean?”

  The elder stepped forward, brushing back a silver-blonde lock of her hair. “Your son. He’s come home.”

  Her thought processes went completely numb and then sped into double time. Pascal was here! Her pulse jerked as another thought took over. Saul. Was he okay? Had her son come with bad news?

  She remained immobile for perhaps a millisecond. Then she spun around, taking off in a sprint to where her son awaited at the Triskellon camp.

  Unable to use air currents—the gargoyle clan lived in deep caves high at the top of a mountain range—it took precious hours on foot before she finally arrived at the all too silent site that was cast in shadow, the sun drifting toward the far mountainous horizon.

  Steele stepped forward from the cave she shared with him, carrying her clothes. His wings were high behind him, his emotions taut. “You got the news.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her stomach churned with emotions she’d reined in all too long as she accepted her loose-fitting tunic and pants. She pulled them on, her wings snapping tight against her spine. “Pascal is home.”

  The Triskellon clan may have outwardly welcomed Pascal into their lives after he was born, but she’d been all too aware of the undercurrent of distrust toward her son. It had been the fundamental reason why she had left all those years ago.

  The flesh-burning initiation, where the elders had seared Triskellon along Pascal’s spine at the tender age of five, had been the last straw. Knowing he’d yet to face numerous gargoyle inductions that tested the males’ strength, endurance and agility, she’d feared her half-human child wouldn’t survive. She’d decided there and then that Pascal should experience life among humans, grow up without the pain and distrust he’d endured as a Triskellon member.

  But she’d never intended to fall for a human, whose love for her, for a child who wasn’t his own, was all exclusive, his adoration overflowing from an otherwise darkened soul.

  In some ways, she understood the gargoyles distrust. Her son might have all the physical genetics of a gargoyle, but he did have a human father—and a depraved human at that.

  It was no secret she’d been raped by a park ranger when she’d flown too far out of the Triskellon territory. She’d always held an innocent fascination toward humans, even before Saul. And when she’d seen a campfire, a large human hunched over a crude rotisserie of roasting wild rabbit, she hadn’t thought about anything more than hiding her wings.

  She’d shifted into human form and stepped naked toward the man.

  When she’d stumbled back to the Triskellon camp days later, her bright-eyed innocence had been all but snuffed out, her soul darkened. Steele had taken one look at her and silently left to ”take care” of her human rapist.

  It had never been discussed again.

  Steele nodded. “Tonight we celebrate Pascal’s homecoming…” She closed her eyes, incredibly grateful and relieved by Steele’s acceptance. “But now, it’s my duty to send you back to your human lover.”

  Her lids flicked open, her eyes going wide. “What?”

  “You are free to return to your human. I will take care of Pascal and his lover.”

  Her emotions went numb again even as her thoughts scrambled one after the other. I won’t get to see my son before I leave. I’ll see Saul again soon. Pascal brought a lover—but surely not a human?

  No human would be tolerated here, not with the secrecy of the Triskellon clan.

  “All I ask,” Steele continued softly, decisively, “is that you stay with your human until his mortality ends, along with your obsession.”

  Sharp relief filled her, consumed her, even as desperation sucked at her soul. “I need some time with my son,” she breathed. “Please, I haven’t even seen him yet.” She shook her head. “I can’t go. I lost Pascal once, I won’t lose him again.”

  Steele’s face could have been carved out of the same rock as the humans’ fairytale gargoyles. “You don’t have a choice, not anymore. “

  “Please, I—”

  His wings snapped closed. ”You’ll have all the time you’ll need with Pascal after your mortal is dead and buried
.”

  So this was her punishment for not loving Steele? In the gargoyle world, Steele’s word was law. Disobedience meant banishment, or worse.

  Sorrow tore through her soul, hatred for the gargoyle leader bubbling up to the surface until even her eyes burned.

  Bad enough that Steele had forced her to stay after she’d returned, never once allowing her to go back and see Pascal. Now he was forcing her to leave here—with the same outcome—never to see her son.

  At least, not any time soon.

  She lifted her chin. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being witness to her emotional carnage. Dragging in a breath, she mentally gathered every raw and bleeding sentiment back to where they belonged—away from Steele’s shrewd, too arrogant stare.

  Her heart iced over. Her voice came out like frost. “What about you?”

  His eyes flared, hot and possessive. A muscle jerked to life in his set jaw. “I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter Two

  Two days later

  Zahlee stilled beside the casino entrance, dry-mouthed, with her pulse jumping at the base of her throat. She’d wanted to stand out and be noticeable. Going by the admiring looks cast her way, she’d obviously achieved just that.

  She smoothed a hand over the slinky, lime-colored dress cut on an angle, revealing more than it covered. One thigh was half bare, a shoulder and her delicate collarbone exposed.

  She’d booked a modest hotel room using the bank account all the Triskellon members had access to, the same account from which she’d bought her dress and shoes. She’d washed and blow-dried her long hair into its naturally curly state—Saul had loved her wild hair—and now it swung almost to her waist as she sashayed inside, her stilettos tap-tapping across the marble floor.

  She ignored the attention she drew as she moved through the casino, her thoughts now attuned to one thing. Saul.