Removing the Gargoyle’s Mask Read online

  Into the paranormal world: Sometimes giving in to temptation can lead to unexpected rewards.

  Martin Marty Beakman finds himself entranced by a bearded, cloaked stranger in a coffee shop, Raymond. Although he feels like a stalker, he returns again and again until he eventually figures out a pattern. When Marty is confronted by his brother Matthew regarding his actions, he admits his attraction to someone he’s never even spoken to. After his brother encourages him to change that, Marty follows Raymond in an attempt to do just that. Instead, he sees something almost unbelievable…Raymond removes his cloak, spreads wings, and flies into the night. When Raymond, out of the blue, contacts Marty online, will he give in to his desire to learn more about the guy? Or, will the strange sight the evening before keep him from seizing the opportunity?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Removing the Gargoyle’s Mask

  Copyright © 2013 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-77111-755-5

  Cover art by Scott Carpenter

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  Removing the Gargoyle’s Mask

  A Paranormal’s Love: Book Five

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  To fellow tea drinkers everywhere…you know what I’m talking about!

  Chapter One

  Martin Beakman, Marty to his friends, lounged on the sofa at the coffee bar. He bounced his leg, tapping a soft rhythm with his heel. It wasn’t caffeine that had him all hopped up, but nerves. Marty felt certain he’d figured out the stranger’s schedule.

  Why he’d felt drawn to learn when the man came in for coffee, even after almost five weeks, Marty still couldn’t say. He even felt a bit stalkerish, but that didn’t stop his compulsion to come to the café every evening, order a decaf cup of joe, then sit and wait.

  So far, the odd man who’d caught Marty’s eye had come every other Thursday at around ten o’clock or so. He wore a calf length trench coat, a wide brimmed hat, large sunglasses, and sported a bushy beard. He even wore black leather gloves. The dress effectively hid just about every inch of the man.

  Marty should have dismissed him immediately, but he couldn’t. For some reason, he wanted to see the stranger’s eyes. Were they dull and weary, having seen too much harshness in the world? Maybe, the guy hid scars behind those big frames and facial hair.

  The first time Marty had seen the man, he’d been there for a late night meeting with his buddy and business partner Logan. After Marty graduated college with a business management degree, he’d teamed up with his best friend, who’d had several years of construction experience, and opened a renovation company.

  Logan had been explaining the changes a client had requested that afternoon, so Marty could figure out how that would impact their budget.

  When the stranger walked by and Marty had caught a whiff of his cologne, it’d shocked the hell out of him. He’d found himself drawn in by the earthy masculine scent of the smaller male, even aroused by it, his cock thickening in his jeans.

  It’d been extremely distracting while trying to formulate strategy for getting the requested changes completed under budget. Logan, finally fed up with continually having to redraw his attention to their discussion, called it a night.

  The breeze of cool evening air over Marty’s heated face drew him from his thoughts. Looking toward the door, a rush of anticipation flooded him. Disappointment stabbed through Marty just as quickly when he spotted his brother, Matthew, enter the coffee bar.

  So much for getting up enough courage to talk to the guy tonight. No way am I gonna approach someone in front of Matthew.

  When Matthew spotted him, Marty lifted his chin. His brother flopped onto the sofa next to him and looked around the place. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding, huh?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Marty replied, scowling. “I haven’t been hiding.”

  Matthew shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “I haven’t seen you in weeks unless we work the same job. When you didn’t answer your phone, I called Logan, thinking you were working long hours.” Matthew’s gaze flicked toward him for a second, then back to his pants where his finger rubbed over the seam, giving away his unease. “He said you’ve been hanging out here.”

  Marty wasn’t certain how Logan knew where he was, but should have known his buddy would notice his preoccupation. Since he hadn’t seen Matthew outside work in nearly four weeks, he should have known his brother would come looking. He, Logan, Matthew, and a few other friends often hung out and BBQed several times a week and he’d bailed on more than one invitation.

  He knew he had to come up with some explanation, but damned if he could explain when he didn’t completely understand it himself.

  “I’m sorry,” Marty started. He paused and frowned, uncertain. Damn, what could he say?

  Obviously sensing his unease, Matthew swept his hazel-eyed gaze around the coffee bar. Marty watched a myriad of emotions drift across his brother’s features. He knew from other’s comments that they were both expressive, having little ability to hide their thoughts. That seemed to be where their similarities ended, though.

  While Marty stood six foot four and sported broad shoulders and plenty of muscle from lifting drywall, lumber, and wielding heavy tools, his brother stood six foot one and retained more lean muscle definition from years of working electrical. To put them even further apart, while Marty kept his blond hair almost buzz-cut short—easier to clean after a day of cutting drywall or painting—Matthew tended to wear his light brown hair hanging in shaggy waves around his neck.

  Suddenly, Matthew’s sharp hiss drew Marty from his thoughts. Leaning close, his brother asked, “Are you meeting a girl here? Are you dating someone and that’s why you’ve become so scarce?”

  Ah, hell. Of course, his brother would assume that. While no one would guess his brother was gay, Matthew had actually come out at age fifteen. Marty, however, had never actually admitted to his bisexuality, having only ever dated women.

  “No,” Marty replied. “No girl.”

  Matthew looked around again. “Okay, I can get behind the ambiance, but to spend most of your evenings here? You develop a coffee fetish I should be aware of?”

  “No,” Marty immediately denied. He held up his mug. “This is decaf,” he admitted. He’d learned damn early in his wannabe stake-out never to order anything with caffeine this late or he’d have trouble sleeping…which created problems at work the next day.

  Since he’d never acted on his occasional attraction to men, Marty had never bothered telling Matthew—or anyone, for that matter—that he found certain males physically desirable. Now, he knew he didn’t have a choice, bec
ause this man—as odd as he seemed—would definitely make him consider going that next step.

  Matthew scowled, his hazel eyes narrowing. “You gonna make me keep guessin’, bro?”

  Screwing up his courage, Marty softly admitted, “It’s actually a guy.”

  “A guy?” Matthew blanched, his expression quickly turning hurt and confused. “You’re dating a guy? Why would you hide this from me?”

  Marty leaned close, then explained further, “I haven’t actually spoken to him.”

  “Huh?”

  Yeah, Marty felt just as confused as his brother looked. Grimacing, he sucked in a deep breath before sharing, “I can’t figure out why I’m interested in him. You wouldn’t think—”

  Once again, a cool breeze wafted across his face. The hair on his arms stood on end and he fought back a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. The object of his obsession strode inside.

  The man seemed to pause in the doorway and sweep his gaze over the interior of the café. For several seconds, his sunglass covered face seemed to peer straight at him. Unable to help himself, Marty licked his lips and smiled at the man.

  Marty’s heart thudded rapidly in his chest as the stranger continued to peer their way, although it was tough to tell with his dark features hidden behind the sunglasses and beard. Then, the new arrival ducked his head, but not before Marty thought he saw the man’s lips twitch just a bit.

  Hell, yeah! Could he be coming here so often just because of me?

  Sure, it might be arrogant to think so, but Marty had heard the barista talk about the increased frequency of their resident hobo’s visits. For some reason, having the man called that had raised Marty’s hackles. It’d taken a hell of a lot of self-control to keep from saying something.

  “Holy shit!” Matthew hissed, drawing his attention.

  Marty turned to his brother. Matthew’s eyes were wide, clearly expressing his shock.

  “That’s who you’re, uh, interested in?”

  His brother’s dubious—hell, shocked—muttered words drew Marty’s attention away from…him. He frowned and murmured, “He’s a not a homeless bum, you know.”

  “No,” Matthew responded softly. “I don’t know. He looks like it. How can you think not?”

  “He smells damn fantastic,” Marty admitted, his gaze once more straying to the strange man.

  Matthew drew out his next word, “O-Okaaaay.”

  Marty glared at his brother. “You wanted to know what has had me so distracted of late,” he quietly snapped. “Well, now you know. So if you don’t have anything productive to say, feel free to move along.”

  Matthew’s brows arched high as he lifted both hands in placation, even as he stood. Marty instantly felt bad. He knew it’d been stress causing his harsh words. He hated fighting with his brother, especially since the man was the only family he had left. Well, besides some second cousins living in Santa Barbara that he hadn’t seen since he was maybe three.

  Rising, Marty opened his mouth to call Matthew back, but then he realized his brother wasn’t heading toward the door. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled as he saw Matthew stop directly behind the man.

  Seeing the object of his infatuation beside his muscular, toned brother only accentuated the bearded man’s leanness. His long trench coat couldn’t hide how slender the frame was beneath the fabric. Marty had an odd desire to sit behind the man, tilt his head back so it rested against Marty’s chest, then take a straight razor to the man’s scruffy beard and shave it off. To his shock, his cock thickened at the idea of holding the man, touching his skin, seeing and feeling the man submit to his ministrations, to trust him.

  Marty fought back a moan. Shaking his head, he moved his coffee cup over his crotch as a shield while discreetly adjusting himself with his other hand. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. His untimely erection confused the shit out of him. Never had he gotten so hard, so fast from just his imagination.

  The soft shuffle of the bearded stranger’s steps drew Marty’s attention. He watched the guy move closer toward him, stopping to stand at the pick-up counter. Marty really wanted to hear the man’s voice and swiftly struggled to find something to say.

  “Hey, man,” Marty finally called. “Nice trench. Is it waterproof?”

  A dark pink, kinda pointy tongue swept over the man’s bottom lip as he turned to face him. Marty’s cock twitched in his slacks. Damn, when was the last time he wanted to suck someone’s tongue? Not to mention, never, never had he ever been attracted to a lean male with a beard…but here, he was practically panting for the stranger.

  “Thanks,” the stranger responded. “And, yeah. It’s waterproof.”

  The man’s soft tenor belied his rough exterior…and caused a bead of pre-cum to ooze from Marty’s shaft. The stranger’s wide nostrils flared slightly. He reached up and slid his sunglasses down his nose just enough to reveal dark, dark brown eyes. There was no mistaking the lust filling the man’s gaze.

  Marty found himself responding to that look. He started to rise. Ideas of where he could take the smaller man to peel off that coat and explore the body underneath flipped through his quickly lust-fogging mind. How would the man’s mouth taste? How would his beard feel against his own chin?

  “Here’s your double caramel macchiato, sir,” chirped the barista, setting the drink on the counter near the man’s elbow.

  The man started, parting their gazes. After a soft thank you, the stranger grabbed his cup, flicked his once again sunglass covered gaze toward Marty, and hustled from the room.

  A stab of disappointment swept over him. What the hell just happened?

  His brother settled next to him, a cup of coffee in hand, drawing his attention. “His name is Raymond Patterson,” he revealed. “And you’re right. He paid with an American Express black card. I hear ya gotta be loaded to qualify for one of those.”

  “Then, why the hell does he dress like that?” Marty wondered out loud.

  Matthew shrugged. “Ya got me.” Bumping his shoulder, he suggested, “Why don’t you go find out?”

  “That’s a damn good idea,” Marty stated. He rose. Determination to figure out this attraction between them mixed with hope that he wasn’t too late to figure out where the guy went.

  His brother followed him out the door. Once outside, Matthew gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “Once you track the man down and fuck him through the nearest mattress, get some rest.” He winked. “You can tell me and Logan all about it in the morning. I’ll be at the Cranston job to fix the electrical.”

  Marty smiled and nodded. He knew he owed his brother an explanation and tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out what to tell him. Right now, he wanted to track down the man who piqued his—and his cock’s—interest.

  Tossing his nearly empty cup in the garbage, Marty started jogging in the direction he thought the man—Raymond, according to Matthew—had gone. He peered down each alley as he passed them, his gaze searching the gloom for the shape of a man.

  He’d just about given up hope when a figure in the distance caught his attention. He was already across a field at the far end of the alley. As he watched, he disappeared into the trees.

  Confused about why Raymond would be heading into the forest in the middle of the night, Marty hesitated a few seconds to follow. Deciding he didn’t want to wait two weeks to get another chance to talk to the stranger, he booked it after the man. The long stride of his six foot four frame ate up the distance.

  Marty squinted, peering through the gloom. Thinking he spotted movement through the trees, he hurried on. When he saw the flap of a cloak between trees, Marty knew he was on the right track.

  Drawing close, Marty saw the man had stopped. Relieved, he slowed to a walk and sucked in great lungfuls of air, trying to catch his breath. He swallowed a couple times, working moisture back into his throat so he could call out a greeting. He didn’t want to startle the man.


  To Marty’s surprise, just as he was about to shout, Raymond slid out of his trench coat. His jaw sagged in shock at the black body revealed to him. Just as he’d imagined, the man’s body was leanly muscled, shown off to great perfection by the loincloth the…man…wore.

  A loincloth?

  Continuing to watch, Marty just held in his gasp of shock when Raymond spread his arms. Skin—attached all along the underside of his arms—stretched in voluminous folds down the sides of his torso suddenly stretched taut by…ribs? A pair of skin covered ribs, jutting out along the man’s torso? The man’s legs were far shorter than any person’s Marty had ever seen, making Raymond look shockingly disproportionate.

  Wait? Is that a tail?

  Marty squinted through the gloom, trying to confirm what he thought he saw.

  With his coffee mug clutched in one gloved hand and the cloak tossed almost carelessly over his shoulder, Raymond lunged forward and up…and he went up and up. His arms moved, making the folds of skin flap and catch the air like…wings!

  Marty leaned heavily against a tree as he watched the man he’d been lusting after fly—fucking fly!—away. He had no idea how long he stood there, the tree supporting him, staring at where the man—Oh God, he’s not really a man, is he?—had disappeared.

  Finally, the evening chill snapped Marty out of his stupor. He turned away and started back through the trees but not before he glanced once more over his shoulder.

  Chapter Two

  Raymond flew through the trees, dipping and lifting his arms to control the angle of his wingskins in between flaps. He kept just above the treetops, maneuvering around some of the taller ones. If he hurried, he’d be back to the manor by midnight. He could make an appearance at the gargoyle lunch hour—which was about one in the morning—and no one would know he’d gone.