Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(68)
I turned on the faucet and washed my bloody hand. “Maybe you’re used to women who spring tears from their eyes and flounce out of a room, but that’s not me.”
Christian rose to his feet and stepped out of the tub. He strode over to the doorway and then casually leaned against the wall. By the expression on his face, he looked as if he was trying to figure me out. “I think we’ll work well together if you just stop trying to get in my trousers. I know the eye candy must be torture, but fecking control yourself.”
I stripped out of my shirt, and when his eyes drifted down to the red satin bra that held my breasts firmly in place, I gave him a smug grin. I splashed water on my chest. “Anything you say, Vamp.”
His eyes narrowed. “You keep using that word and seem to forget that you’re only half a spark plug.”
“Yep, but I’m not as offended by the word as you are. I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, and Vamp is the least insulting.” I rinsed my hair beneath the running water and then washed the blood off my arms, clavicles, and face. “The past is history. You spend a lot of time getting offended over trivial things,” I said, drying my face with a towel.
“You’re not old enough to appreciate the prejudices we’ve endured as a race.”
I slipped on a tank top and then removed my bra. “No, a crossbreed wouldn’t understand anything about prejudice. Now quit trying to piss me off. It’s not working.”
Christian took a moment to visually acknowledge my hardened nipples pressing against the fabric of my tank top. Then he took a step forward and gazed down at me with those bottomless eyes. “I love the way you smell when you’re wet.”
I blinked up at him in surprise. “You can smell me when I’m turned on?”
His grin widened. “I meant when you’re clean, but that does raise a curious question.”
I’m not going to get flustered and storm out.
I’m not going to get flustered and storm out.
I stroked my hand over his cock, which was still hard. “Yes, it certainly does.” Then I patted his shoulder and walked out of the room.
Since everyone’s schedule was thrown off, I didn’t bother cooking. Blue and Viktor had already prepared something in the kitchen for Claude, who was upstairs healing. According to Gem, Shepherd had dressed some of his wounds and then quietly left the room without a word. Wyatt went back to his office to keep an eye on the black market website.
I decided to pay Claude a quick visit to see how he was doing. His bedroom was located on the second floor in a separate hall from Gem.
Now I could appreciate why.
I stood in the doorway and laughed when I took a gander at the bed on the right-hand wall. Gem was curled up beside Claude, who was giving his best impersonation of a hibernating bear.
“I thought that was a chain saw.”
Gem sat up and gave an elfin smile. “He snores.” When she turned to poke him, he stopped and made a purring sound before rolling onto his side.
“Mind if I come in?”
She gestured toward the chair on the right, which faced the bed. A candle flickered on the bedside table from the draft of her movement.
“Nice place,” I said, admiring his abode.
Everyone’s bedroom reflected their personality. Claude’s private chamber was laid out the same as mine with the fireplace on the left wall and bath in an adjoining room behind the bed. But instead of arched windows opposite the door, he had a massive circular window with a clock design. I’d seen it from the outside of the mansion, never realizing it was his bedroom. Though it was too dark to see, I knew the glass was stained blue with black Roman numerals. The lanterns affixed to every wall weren’t lit, so the only candles burning were one in the entranceway to the bathroom and another on his bedside table. He didn’t have a small bed like mine. Claude was much too tall for one of those.
What surprised me most? I’d expected the room to be lavishly decorated in gold because that seemed fitting of Claude’s regal personality. However, that was not the case.
“So, Claude’s a leather man,” I remarked, looking between the leather headboard and leather bench at the foot of the bed.
Across the room, the window sat within an alcove. Two leather couches faced each other on the opposite walls, a white shag rug between them.
I noticed the fireplace across from the bed had a large, rectangular mirror with a black frame above it. I stepped inside the room and turned around to admire his black armoire beside the door. I imagined him sitting on the leather stool while putting on his shoes and socks. There were only two chairs in the room. One was plush with a wide seat by the fireplace—a great place to doze off with a good book on a winter’s night. I sat down in the other one next to the bedside table. It was small, stiff, and smelled a lot like Claude. There were creases in the arms and a few imperfections.
“How’s he doing?” I asked.
“Better.” Gem’s legs dangled off the bed comically. “Shepherd had some special medicine that’ll help his wounds heal faster. He’ll be back to himself in no time, but he needs rest. Niko’s drained, and Claude refuses to accept any more help from him.”
I glanced at my hand, guilty that I couldn’t have done the same and just healed on my own.
Gem reached up and tied her hair into a messy knot. Her baggy grey sleep shorts and shirt indicated she was foregoing her usual nightly swim.