I rolled on my back and scanned the room.There, at the lower end of the large bed, lay a glass breakfast tray.At the sight of what was on the plate, I sped on all fours toward it.Sitting on my heels with the bedsheet pressed to my bare chest, I eyed the two orange-red fruits without daring to touch.This had to be a dream.
Focused on the sweet treat, I nearly missed Xaniban’s entry.He came through the left wall–er, balcony door.It was transparent upon his entry but turned pale-blue again behind him, lettingsunlight into the bedchamber.
He beamed at me, both fangs showing.“Morning,anima.”
I smiled back, my heart performing a little somersault at the sight of him.“Mangoes!”
My childish excitement made him chuckle.He flew to the foot of the bed and moved the tray to the side.Then wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him along the silk sheets.
Hands flat on his broad chest, I welcomed his possessive embrace and the molten-lava-hot kiss that followed.Nowthatwas a good-morning greeting I could get used to.
When our lips reluctantly parted, Xaniban sat on the edge of the bed and positioned me, clad in the bedsheet, onto his lap with ease.He kept me balanced with his tail around my waist while he was sliding the tray closer.
“Sleep well?”he asked as he peeled one perfectly ripe mango with the claw of his index finger.
I nodded, my mouth already watering.I also couldn’t help but wonder how his claw could be as sharp as a knife and yet not cut me last night.I blushed at the memory of what he had done with those long, talented fingers.
Xaniban didn’t miss a thing.“What has you so temptingly flushed, little blessing?Name it, and you shall have it.”
“It’s stupid, forget it.”I reached for the piece of mango he had just sliced.He pulled his hand out of my reach.“Xan.”
“A mango for your naughty thoughts.”
“Oh, come on.Do you know when the last time I had a mango was?Zombies didn’t exactly have a positive effect on imports from tropical countries, you know.And I love mangoes.”
“I noticed.I didn’t even get a good-morning from you.”His broad smile indicated he wasn’t offended.And yet, his hand still held the mango away from me.
I huffed.“Fine.I was just wondering how you haven’t hurt me with these sharp claws of yours.”
“Ah.”He handed me the piece of mango, and I closed my eyes as the rich flavor hit my taste buds.So good.
“I clipped my claws before joining you in bed.”
My eyes flew open.“What?”
He rubbed my thigh through the bedsheet.“It is not painful.Unpleasant, yes, but worth it.Your luscious body should never bear a scar from me.And as you can see, the claws regenerate overnight.”
“Mhmm,” I exclaimed around the second to last bite of my mango.
I had just popped the last piece in my mouth when his lips caught mine.Next thing I knew, the piece was stolen.
“Hey!”
He smirked and handed me another slice, bringing it directly to my mouth.
I rolled my eyes but let him hand-feed me.To be honest with myself, I found that rather sweet.I also enjoyed redirecting some of the bites to him.He needed to eat, too.
“Where do you get all this food from?”I asked as we fed each other.“Do you send gargoyles to different parts of the ground to get it?”
“My homecloud is allowed to fly only over what you call Europe.This is the ground territory claimed by my ancestors.I speak English, Spanish and French, in case my curious little human is wondering.”
“Impressive.”Why did he need so many languages?
Then again, speaking French was known to do wonders with the ladies.A gargoyle probably needed to use every trick up his sleeve–loincloth to win a woman over for a quickie in the sky.The thought of Xaniban doing that made the mango in my mouth taste bitter.
“Therefore,” he went on, “our food does not come from the ground.We do import some produce from other homeclouds, but the majority is grown locally.”
“You grow fruit and veggies on a cloud?”Pinch me now.“What about farm animals?”
