Filthy Gods (American Gods 0.5)(34)

My heart clenched tight at his words.

When his fingers wiped away a few more tears on my cheek, he moved closer, his hands cradling my back. “I love you, Juliette. And I choose you. I’ll always choose you,” he said, for once—his voice not calm, but filled with so much emotion, I almost drowned.

I shook my head, blinking through the tears. “But your inheritance…everything.”

His lips quirked and his fingers smoothed across my bottom lip. “Do you have such little faith in me? We’ve debated against one another for years, Juliette. I only needed to negotiate with my mother. She was manipulating you when she said she’d take everything away, she would never do that. Her greatest wish is for me to take over the estate business. She only wanted to scare you off. So I made a deal with her; I get to have you and I’ll run the country club after graduation.”

I stared at him in complete shock and wonder. “Nathaniel—” I could only say his name, over and over, a song to my heart and mind and body. I was in shock. I couldn’t think or talk properly but stared back at the man who could shake my world.

“If I want to be your husband one day, I know I’ll have to negotiate every single day to keep you happy,” he said, smiling one of those rare smiles I adored.

I laughed bluntly, giddy and shook my head. “You’re not even my boyfriend.”

He pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m a greedy, overachieving bastard, Juliette. I examined the risks and you’re worth the fall.”

“You know, this, us—our summer affair—it was never about getting rid of distractions for me.”

I frowned at that, confused. “You said—”

“I lied,” he said with an apologizing tilt of his mouth. “It was always just a reason to get closer to you. I’ve had my eyes set on you since the beginning, Juliette. But it was never the right moment to approach you. Until—there you were, cleaning up my room at the estate—away from school, away from the expectations and the curious eyes. There was an opportunity, and I took it, hoping you’d end up wanting me for more than just sex.”

“You lying bastard,” I said, with a smile. He shrugged and I hit his chest playfully. Tears spilled from my eyes and I took his mouth into a brutal, bruising kiss. All of my trapped emotions, all of my hopes and dreams, I felt them when I was with him. “I love you too, Nathaniel.”

His smile at that was the biggest I’d ever seen him wear, his hand cradling the back of my head. “Say it again.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “I love you.”

“Again,” he said right away, eyes shining with wonder and amazement.

I cocked a brow. “Don’t get a big head now, Nathaniel Radcliffe.”

His lips tilted up at one side. Then, he kissed my forehead tenderly. “You’re my future, Juliette.”

I kissed him again, but paused, glancing at the room. “Why are we here anyway? It’s empty.”

“Because,” he said, gripping my hand and dragging me through the living room. “We’re going to fill it.”

My eyes shot to his. “What?”

“I bought this for us. That’s only if you’re ready to make that step,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Like I said, I’m a greedy bastard.”

I stared at the floorboards and the white walls and then turned to look back at him. I didn’t need a house, but I did need him.

He was my home.

I wrapped my arms around his middle and nuzzled his nose. “More like a filthy god.”





My heart had two settings: nothing at all or too much. Nothing in-between and the day I saw Juliette Monroe, her glare like that of a Roman army and her mind sharper than their blades, I knew I wanted all of her or nothing at all.

From a young age, my mother always praised my decisiveness. I never dabbled in things. I took everything in my hands—and either destroyed it into worthless pieces or conquered it until I won.

Being an only child, I spent most of my time with adults and learned the way people warred within their conversations. Delicate, sharpened words. So much unsaid below the surface. And once I decided I wanted her, there was no going back.

Her sable hair had been tied back into a loose ponytail, the strands thick and shiny. Hair I wanted to wrap around my fingers and see how hard I could tug.

She’d rolled her luscious lips between her teeth and bit down, the blood rushing to the surface making them turn a darker, sensual color.

She bent low in front of the bookshelves, her black skirt billowing around her thighs, flashing the delicate curve of her inner thighs—soft and strong all at once.

A thigh I wanted to kiss and suck and bite.

My cock had hardened at the sight of her, her fingers skimming the edge of the worn book binds, her other hand touching her bottom lip as she scanned the titles.

When her mouth mouthed each title, I fisted my hands beside me.

On my second day at Yale, I had found a beauty hidden between the aisles of its sacred books.

And then she stood, yanking a book out of the shelf and turned, her skirt dancing around those creamy thighs.

When I attended the first UN model debate on campus the next night, I was shocked to see the brunette standing right in front of me.

The way she spoke—lecturing me, challenging me—made my cock harden to an unbearable degree. I gripped the stand, my knuckles turning white, holding myself back from grabbing her.