His boot thumped into the far wall, and my face went cold. Ivy. Scented candles. Airing out the church. Making brownies to scent the air. Washing his scent off me. Swell.
Smiling his bad-boy smile, Kisten padded to me in his socks and open jeans. His wide hand cupped my jaw and he leaned close. "I don't mind if she knows," he said, and I didn't move, enjoying the warmth. "She's going to find out eventually. But I'd break it to her gently if I were you, not dump it on her." He gave me a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. His hand trailed reluctantly from me as he backed up and opened the door to the shower.
Crap, I'd forgotten about Ivy. "Yeah," I said distantly, recalling her jealousy, her dislike of surprises, and how badly she reacted to both. "You think she's going to be upset?"
Kisten turned, his shirt off and water beading on his hand from feeling the temperature. "Upset? She's going to be as jealous as a green apple that you and I have a physical way to express our relationship and she doesn't."
Frustration filled me. "Damn it, Kisten. I'm not going to let her bite me so she knows I like her. Sex and blood. Blood and sex. It's the same thing, and I can't do that with Ivy. I'm not wired that way!"
He shook his head, a sad smile on him. "You can't say blood and sex are the same thing. You've never given blood to another. You have nothing to base your view on."
I frowned. "Every time a vamp puts his eyes on me looking for a snack, it feels sexual."
He came forward, wedging his body between my knees, pressing close up to the washer. His hand went out, and he pushed my hair back over my shoulder. "Most living vampires who are looking for a quick fix find a willing partner faster when they stir them sexually. But Rachel, the meaning behind the giving and receiving blood isn't supposed to be based on sex but respect and love. That you can't be moved by the promise of great sex is why Ivy gave up that tack with you so quickly. But she's still hunting you."
I thought of all the facets of Ivy that Skimmer's appearance had forced me to openly acknowledge. "I know."
"Once she gets over her initial anger, I think she'll be all right with us dating."
"I never said I was dating you."
He smiled knowingly and touched my cheek. "But if I took your blood, even in accident or a moment of passion?" Kisten's blue eyes pinched in worry. "One scratch and she'd stake me. The entire city knows she's put a claim on you, and God help the vamp that gets in her way. I took your body. If I touch your blood, I'm dead twice."
I went cold. "Kisten, you're scaring me."
"You should be scared, little witch. She's going to be the most powerful vampire in Cincinnati someday, and she wants to be your friend. She wants you to be her savior. She thinks you'll either find a way to kill the vamp virus in her so she can die with her soul intact, or be her scion so she can die knowing that you'll be there to take care of her."
"Kisten. Stop."
Smiling, he kissed my forehead. "Don't worry. Nothing has changed from yesterday. Tomorrow will be the same. She's your friend, and she won't ask anything you can't give."
"That doesn't help."
He shrugged, and with a last touch on my side, he took a step back. Steam billowed out from the crack in the door as Kisten shimmied out of his jeans and leaned into the shower to adjust the temperature again. My eyes ran from his well-toned calves to his tight behind to his broad back, lightly muscled. All thoughts of Ivy's coming anger vanished. Damn.
As if feeling my eyes on him, he turned, catching me ogling him.
The steam eddied about him. Drops of moisture from the showerhead clung to his stubble. "Let me help you get your camisole off," he said, the timbre of his voice shifting.
I ran my eyes down him again, grinning as I brought my gaze up. Double damn.
He slipped his hands behind my back, and with a little help on my part, he nudged me forward to the edge of the dryer and slipped my halter top off. Wrapping my legs around him, I laced my hands behind his neck and tucked my chin into the hollow of his neck. God help me, he was beautiful. "Kisten?" I questioned as he nuzzled my hair out of the way and found the ticklish spot behind my ear. A warm feeling started in my middle, stemming from where his lips touched me, demanding I recognize it. Accept it. Call it a good thing.
"Do you still have that tight leather biker outfit?" I asked, kind of embarrassed.
Lifting me off the washer and carrying me into the shower, he laughed.
Twenty-two
I smiled as the music ended, to leave a comfortable silence. The ticking of the clock above the sink became loud in the candlelit air. My eyes went to the hand jerking about the dial. It was creeping up on four in the morning, and I had nothing to do but sit and daydream about Kisten. He had left about three to handle the crowd at Piscary's, leaving me warm, content, and happy.
We had spent the entire early evening together eating BLTs and junk food, ransacking Ivy's and my music collection and then using her computer to burn a CD of our favorites. In retrospect, I think it had been the most enjoyable evening of my entire adult life as we laughed over each other's memories and I realized I enjoyed sharing more than my body with him.
Every candle I owned was lit as insurance that I'd be able to pick the time I told Ivy about my new arrangement with Kisten, and their glow added to the peace instilled by the soft burble of potpourri over the stove and the slight lethargy from the pain amulet about my neck. The air smelled of ginger, popcorn, and brownies, and as I sat at Ivy's table with my elbows to either side of me, I played with my amulets and wondered what Kisten was doing.
Much as I didn't want to admit it, I really liked him, and that I could have gone from fear to dislike to attraction and interest in less than a year left me concerned and embarrassed. It wasn't like me to overlook my healthy distrust of vampires because of a tight butt and a charming demeanor.
Living with a vampire might have something to do with it, I thought, dipping my hand into the nearby bowl of popcorn and eating a piece because it was there, rather than out of any need to satisfy hunger. I didn't think my new attitude was because of my scar; I had liked Kisten before the sex, or there wouldn't have been any—and he hadn't played upon it to influence me, either.
Wiping my fingers free of the salt, I stared into nothing. I had been thinking of Kisten differently since he'd dressed me up and made me feel good. Maybe, I thought, picking out another kernel. Maybe I could find something with a vampire that I'd never been able to hold on to with a witch, war-lock, or human.
Chin in the cup of my palm, I sent my fingers lightly over the demon scar as I recalled his careful attention as he shampooed my hair and soaped my back, and how good it felt to be able to return the favor. He had let me hog the shower-head most of the time. That kind of stuff was important.
The sound of the front door opening jerked my attention to the clock. Ivy was home? Already? I had wanted to be tucked in bed pretending sleep when she came in.
"You up, Rachel?" she said, loud enough to be heard and soft enough to not wake me.
"Kitchen," I called back. Nervous, I glanced at the potpourri. It was enough. Kisten had said it was. Standing, I flicked on the overhead light and resettled myself. As the fluorescent bulbs flickered on, I tucked my amulets behind my sweater and listened to her thump about in her room. Her steps in the hall were quick and stilted.
"Hi," I said when she walked in, a vision of tight leather and tall boots. A black satchel was over one arm, and a silk-wrapped package about the size of a broken fishing pole was in her hand. My eyebrows rose as I realized she had put on makeup. Her image was both professional and sexy. Where was she going this late? And dressed like that?
"What happened with dinner with the folks?" I prompted.