Home > Blood Games (Chicagoland Vampires #10)(75)

Blood Games (Chicagoland Vampires #10)(75)
Author: Chloe Neill

* * *

Once again, he showered while I searched for the right words to say. Tonight was no different, except that we’d showered together. I rubbed at the oily soot that stained my skin, while he washed my hair, a habit he’d apparently come to enjoy.

My fingers were wrinkled by the time we finally stepped from the shower, pulled on clothes. Ethan settled on his typical favorite—emerald green silk pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips. I’m fairly certain he wore them as a kind of dare, a challenge for me to resist him. But I had words to say, so I managed.

I opted for plaid shorts with a Cadogan “C” embroidered on the leg and a matching tank. If he expected me to ogle his abs, he might as well do a little ogling of my legs.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Starving, actually. And you must be, too.”

“My appetite is coming back.” He picked up his phone. “I’ll ask Margot to send something up, and Malik to hold down the fort. We can spend the rest of the evening here. I think we deserve a bit of quiet time together. And besides—you owe me a dinner, as I recall.”

I managed not to make a comment about frighteningly fancy food. He was right; I did owe him. “I think that sounds magnificent.” But as he checked his phone, his shoulders tensed.

“Ethan?” I prompted.

“We made the final ballot.” He looked up at me, awe in his eyes. “Me, Nicole, Danica. Lakshmi didn’t fail us after all. She gave us point deductions, but even with that we made the ballot. Granted, we’re the bottom two on the ballot,” he said with a chuckle, “but we’re there. The other Houses will vote tonight. That means we’ll know shortly after dusk tomorrow.”

I walked to him, put my hands on his face. “Whatever happens, we are proud of you. So incredibly proud of you, for what you did and who you are.”

He pulled me against his body, already hard and ready, and kissed me, tongue probing and my body going immediately hot, but I took a regrettable step backward and closed my eyes as I sought control. If he touched me, we’d both be lost.

“Wait,” I said, opening my eyes again. “There are things we need to talk about. Or things I’d like to say.”

He watched me carefully, took a step back, crossed his arms. That only seemed to accentuate his flat abs and hip muscles even more, but I dragged my gaze to his face.

“All right, Sentinel. Go ahead.”

“Maybe let’s sit down.”

I felt the jarring spike of his magic, but moved to the sitting room, sat down on the couch, tucking one leg beneath me.

He looked decidedly skeptical but followed me over and took a seat, arching an arm over the back. “You have my attention.”

“I was wild with fear tonight that I’d lose you again. But you came out alive. And not just alive—victorious. Regardless the points or the vote, or whatever happens here, you won. You had a choice: You could have left Nicole there. You could have taken the victory and walked away. But that’s not who you are. You saved her. She couldn’t make you an ass**le, despite everything she tried to put you through.”

I felt his shuddering sigh, and he put a hand on my cheek. “How did you suddenly become so wise?”

“I had a good teacher.”

“Thank you, Merit.”

“I actually meant Amit,” I said with a grin. “But you were a really good teacher, too.”

“Flattering Amit will get you nowhere with me, Sentinel.”

There was a knock at the door. Ethan rose, checked the peephole, and when he was sure of our security, opened the door.

Margot wheeled in a cart topped with silver domes that smelled deliciously of meat. With much amusement, I watched her eyes drop and widen as she took in Ethan’s scantily clad form. But she sucked it up, pulled off the silver domes.

“Liege, Merit. Dinner is served.”

I braced myself for fish stuffed with more fish, or a mousse of meat. But the meal that stared back from gleaming white plates was perfectly normal. Bacon cheeseburgers with hand-cut fries and tumblers of chocolate milk shakes.

He smiled at me. “I decided for our award dinner we might have a meal that suited us both.”

“I’ve never loved you more.”

“Are you talking to me, Margot, or the burgers?”

“Yes,” I said, and pulled up a chair as she flipped out the sides of the cart to make a round table.

When she crouched to stow the plate covers on the cart’s bottom shelf, she looked back at me, mouth and eyes wide. She mouthed, “Hubba-hubba,” and gave me a very bawdy wink before disappearing out the door again.

“Never let it be said I’m not willing to sacrifice for my Sentinel.”

“Nobody doubted it,” I said, and ate a fry to prove just that.

* * *

I had to give him props. The dinner was absolutely delicious. Margot had even thought to bring dessert—chocolate cheesecake neatly sliced on two small plates, accompanied by a drizzle of raspberry sauce and a fresh sprig of mint.

“I believe there’s something you’ll need, Sentinel.”

Ethan slid from his chair, dropped to one knee on the carpet.

My mind had to race to keep up, but my heart pounded madly.

Ethan looked up at me, grinned. “That thing, of course, is this.” He held up a small dessert fork. “You dropped your fork, Sentinel.”

My blood pounded in my ears. I stood up, swatted his arms with slaps. “You are a jerk.”

He roared with laughter. “Ah, Sentinel. The look on your face.” He doubled over with laughter. “Such terror.”

I kept swatting. “At the thought of marrying you, you pretentious ass.”

He roared again, then picked me up and carried me to the bed. “My pretentions are well earned, Sentinel.”

“You have got to stop doing that.”

“I can’t. It’s hilarious.”

Only a man would think fake proposals were so funny. “It’s nothing near hilarious. It’s several thousand light-years from hilarious.”

He dropped me onto the duvet, covered his body with mine, nipped at my lip, then trailed kisses to his favorite spot on my neck. “Let’s see, my Sentinel, just how hilarious I can be.”

I’d been right.

There was nothing hilarious about it.

Chapter Twenty-two

THE LIONS, THE WITCH, THE WARDROBE

Someone screamed shrilly in my ear, over and over and over again.

“Phone,” Ethan murmured, elbowing me. “Your phone.”

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