He pinched the bridge of his nose, cursed under his breath. Yeah, right, as if cursing could shut down images of those hazel eyes and honey blonde hair, that lithe athletic body, the scent of her on his skin.
That call from Saul last week had brought the memories flooding back, torturous and vivid. Saul had pretty much begged him to come back and help solve the missing humans case, and hell, if he was honest, he’d been fucking tempted.
He’d heard she’d taken a senior detective role in Tween not long after he’d left. She wouldn’t be in Motham. But even so, Motham would be too close. It was in the same valley as Tween. And those old city walls wouldn’t be able to cage him in if his darkness got the better of him. He could use his wings, he could shape-shift, harness the powers he’d denied himself for acentury. Tween was a mere few minutes by wing if he chose to seek her out.
He couldn’t trust himself.
So he’d told Saul it was a firm no. And the dreams had gotten more vivid since then, so vivid he could almost feel himself thrusting deep into her tight, sweet pussy.
For fuck’s sake man. Just. Stop.
A sharp rap on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.”
Maureen, his secretary, poked her head around the door. “You have a visitor, sir.”
“I’m not expecting anyone.”
“No sir, but he said you’d see him. For old times’ sake.”
Oliver felt his pulse spike.
“Who?”
“A gargoyle sir, name of Grayson.”
Oliver’s lips twitched. “Sweet gods,” he muttered. “Okay, send him in.”
Maureen disappeared, and a moment later, in strode the gargoyle, head bent, wings furled tight against his massive torso to fit through the door. The doors here were large to accommodate his monster staff, but Grayson Lightfoot was bigger than most monsters.
Grayson’s face broke into a grin as his red eyes scanned Oliver’s suit. “Looking your usual silver self.”
“Looking as stony as ever,” Oliver countered.
The two guys shook hands heartily.
Oliver was tempted to unfurl his wings and raise himself off the ground a few feet, to bring himself eye-to-eye with the gargoyle, but he never allowed himself to shift. So instead, he stood his ground and craned his neck to look into Grayson’s face. “Actually, you look very well.”
Grayson smirked, his cheeks turning a darker shade of gray. “Maisie and me are expecting our first.”
An emotion constricted Oliver’s chest. Jealousy? Of course not. He was a confirmed bachelor, and nothing and no one was going to ever change that.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Is that what you came to tell me?”
“Well, it’s probably my proudest achievement, but no.”
“How’s the agency going?” Grayson ran Tower Security, and his team of highly trained gargoyles and orcs had always worked closely with the Motham PD.
“Good. But this recent case is giving us all the run-around. You’ve heard about it, no doubt?”
“The missing humans,” Oliver grunted.
“Yeah. It’s completely outwitting our resources, to be honest.”
Oliver’s features tightened. “Gods damn it Grayson, here’s me thinking you’ve come to tell me your personal news. Saul sent you, didn’t he?”
The gargoyle chuckled. “Well, I did want to share that I’m about to be a dad, but yep. Saul sent me.”
“No. The answer is fuckingno.” Oliver started pacing, raking a hand through his silver hair.
