Following his brother, Bodb, to a ranch in Texas, Lludd works there as a gargoyle enforcer. He protects not only Bodb, but his mate, their holdings, and make-shift family. Over the last few years, Lludd has watched a number of others find their mates in and around the area. He longs for that himself, but as a gargoyle, he has no safe way to search out that special person who is the other half of his soul. At over a thousand years old, Lludd is losing patience. When Bodb gives him a dressing-down for saying something thoughtless—again—he heads to the barn in a foul mood. Naturally, that’s when Lludd stumbles upon his mate, startling him but good—Sheriff Archer Montgomery.
The sheriff had been doing some discreet investigating after receiving an anonymous tip about shady goings-on noticed at the ranch. Introducing Archer to the paranormal world is the easy part. Getting him to accept Lludd is quite a bit harder. Can Lludd find a cure for his foot-in-mouth syndrome before driving Archer away for good?
More From A Paranormal’s Love
Stretching slowly, Sheriff Archer Montgomery arched his back. The move caused his morning wood to slide against the sheet. As he relaxed on his mattress, he thought about taking himself in hand.
It has been a while.
Archer reached down and gripped his length. Spreading his legs a little, he flipped off the blanket. While the faint light of dawn filtered through his window, the curtains wide open, he didn’t worry about anyone seeing.
Living at the edge of town in a cabin in the woods had its advantages—one of them being privacy.
Groaning softly, Archer began slowly jacking his dick, causing his morning stiffie to thicken to full mast. He stared down at where he played, cupping his balls. With a gentle roll, he stimulated himself.
With the way his cock already oozed a bead of pre-cum, Archer knew it had been way too long since he’d taken time to slip into the larger town over and find a bedmate for a few hours of fun.
Archer hummed as he squeezed the head of his prick, giving himself a pinch of pain. His balls tightened, and he didn’t bother trying to stop it. He wanted to get off, and he knew he didn’t have a lot of time.
His work as the sheriff kept him way too busy until he managed to hire another couple of deputies.
Thinking of his duties caused Archer’s arousal to begin to wane. Growling under his breath, he closed his eyes and brought up the image of his last lay. The man had been bigger than Archer’s own six-foot-one. He’d sported deep chocolate skin and broad muscles. The stranger had easily man-handled him in bed, holding him down and pounding into his body.
Recalling the sensation, Archer groaned. He released his balls and pressed a finger into his hole. The dry stretch burned deliciously as he began fingering himself. At the same time, Archer sped up the speed of his jacking.
Archer shuddered as he brushed his prostate. His balls pulled tight. He grunted as his orgasm crested, washing his senses in blissful tingles. Humming roughly, he slowed his hand and relaxed, letting his body float on the light aftershocks.
As Archer slowly came to his senses, he released his prick and pulled his finger free of his chute. His ass clenched spastically a couple of times, and he already missed the sensation of being filled.
“Ugh. I need to get laid.”
Swiping his fingertips through a glob of his semen, Archer brought it to his lips. He licked it from his fingers. His slightly salty flavor burst across his tongue.
There was something about eating a man’s seed that he just loved.
Archer had never discussed his obsession with the masculine flavor with anyone. He’d never had a regular lover he’d been that comfortable with, and due to his heavy work schedule, lovers had been few and far between. With hook-ups, he always used protection, even for blowjobs, so he rarely had the opportunity to taste other men.
Once Archer cleaned himself, he flopped his arms to his side and licked his lips. He swallowed a couple of times as he thought about the randy state of his dick. This had been the third time that week he’d woken with the desire to be fucked.
“Maybe I’ll get away this weekend,” Archer muttered as he pushed from the bed. He headed toward the shower, his thoughts on his workload. “Never mind that.” Archer shook his head. “No way that’ll happen.”
Resigning himself to more time with his own hand, Archer started the shower, then used the time it took to warm up to piss and brush his teeth. Stepping into the stall, Archer quickly cleaned up and mentally readied himself for another day.
As Archer shaved, he thought about the applications he’d received for deputies. He hadn’t been all that thrilled with his prospects. Still, needing to please the mayor, he knew he needed to interview at least two of the guys.
The fact that the mayor’s son—Darcy Loreman—was one of the applicants meant the man expected to be a shoe-in for the job.
Not happening.
Archer had spotted the notations in Darcy’s file. The sheriff he currently worked under two towns over had remarked his bullying mentality. Darcy was also a bigot, and not just against homosexuals. Sheriff Colden had noticed excessive force against Hispanics and blacks, too.
When Darcy had graduated from the academy, there hadn’t been an opening for a deputy in his town, and Archer was damn grateful for that. He had no intention of adding an asshole bully to his department.
No matter how much the mayor pressures me.
The sound of Archer’s phone drew his attention. He turned off the faucet water, grabbed the hand towel from the rack, and started from the still-steamy bathroom. As he headed to his cell, he patted his freshly shaved face dry.
Placing the towel over his left shoulder, Archer picked up his phone with his right hand. He spotted the name on the screen and lifted his left brow. A call from his father was unexpected.
Marshal Montgomery had been the town’s prior sheriff. He’d retired six years ago, making way for Archer to be voted into the position. His support had probably been partly due to being his father’s son.
“Hi, Dad,” Archer greeted.
“Hello, son,” Marshal responded. “How are you this morning? Didn’t catch you on your way to the office, did I?”
“Just getting dressed,” Archer told him as he crossed to his dresser and opened a drawer. He’d noticed a bit of tension in his father’s voice and did his best not to scowl as he pulled out a pair of boxer-briefs. “Heading out in about forty minutes.”
Archer knew his father was aware of what time he left for work, so he wondered at Marshal’s comment.
“Good. Good.”
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