Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
GIANNA
I ’m kissing Dominic. His lips are firm and hot, hotter than a human’s, and when I open my eyes for a second, his skin is still dark gray. His short beard is a bit longer than it was in his human form, perhaps. I didn’t imagine it after all—and I’m so grateful for that.
He finally trusts me with his secret, his true identity. I slide my palm over his cheek and dig my fingers into his surprisingly soft hair. I kiss him again, fusing our lips together. He holds me close, his entire body radiating warmth, and returns the kiss, then swipes his tongue over my lower lip. His touch is electric, need pulsing through me at the contact, so I open up my mouth for him and kiss him back, all but hanging off his powerful body.
But when our tongues touch for the first time, I let out a startled gasp and pull back. “Oh!” I bring my hands to his cheeks and stare at his mouth. “Is your…? Do you have…?”
He lets out a low chuckle. The forked ends of his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth. It’s ridiculously hot.
The things he could do with that…
“Mm, little mouse,” he muses. “Your lipstick is all smudged. And those plans you’re making right now? We can get to all of them as soon as we get out of this fucking party.”
He traces the pad of his thumb under my lower lip, then brings it to his mouth and groans.
I frown up at him. “I don’t think this is fair.”
Something touches my leg, so I glance down to find his tail wrapped around my ankle. I don’t know what shocks me more, the fact that his feet are actually cloven hooves or that he has a tail. I saw it earlier—but didn’t know the appendage could move so independently. He slides it up my calf, and I shiver in awareness, but I hold on to my rapidly dwindling frustration and glower some more.
“What is it?” he asks softly.
I release his hair to poke him in the hard, muscled chest. “You know all my naughty thoughts. You know what I want, down to the last detail, but I don’t know anything about your fantasies.”
He hums. “That’s true.” He gives me a wicked grin, his fangs glinting. “Would you like me to tell you?”
I don’t trust myself to speak, not when the lightly tufted end of his tail is teasing the back of my knee, so I simply nod.
He leans in so close, his breath brushes over my ear, and whispers, “I’m imagining how good your red mouth will look stretched around my cock.”
“Oh!” I sway in place, a bolt of lust slamming through me. Then I smack his chest lightly. “You can’t say things like this in here. We can’t do that in my boss’ guest bedroom.”
He blinks and straightens, then glances around as if this is the first time he’s noticed the space. I take the moment to drag in a breath, but all I get is a whiff of his delicious minty scent.
“You’re right,” he says and draws away from me. He reaches into his pocket and slips his ring back on his thumb. His glamour snaps into place, and here is the man I fell so hard for, human-but-not, handsome as sin.
“I’m sorry. I’m taking you home.”
I blink, surprised at the sudden change. “What’s wrong?”
He’s already moving toward the door. “That bastard grabbed you, and I’m trying to seduce you in the same house. It’s insensitive.”
“Hey. Stop. It’s all right.” I catch him by his hand and tug him back toward me lightly. “I mean, it’s not . If you hadn’t come, I would have had to kick the asshole in the balls and I’d not only lose my job but probably get slapped with assault charges myself because I couldn’t very well tell the cops he tried to burn my wrist with his hand.”
His eyebrows snap together. “He what ?” He snatches up my hand and checks the reddened skin on my inner wrist. “I’m going to kill him. Rip out his worthless guts and set them on fire. See how he likes it if someone burns him .”
“Whoa.” I twist my hand so I’m holding his and press it between my palms. “Calm down. It’s fine. Nothing a little salve won’t fix. No guts, please.”
He stares down at me a moment longer, then suddenly wraps me in a tight embrace and buries his nose in my hair. It must be uncomfortable for him because he’s so much taller than me, but he sniffs at me deeply, then slowly relaxes. First, his fingers loosen, then his muscles unclench one by one, as if he’s consciously making an effort.
“You all right?” I ask, my voice muffled by his shirt.
He lets out a rumbling sigh. “Your scent relaxes me. If I could, I would wear it always.”
My heart does a stupid hop at his words. “You can do that,” I whisper back. “But do you think you could wait half an hour? I should make an appearance at the party.”
Now he’s growling again, so I squeeze him tighter until he stops.
“I need this job,” I explain. “I need a way to pay my rent while I actively search for a new opening for a graphic designer.”
There’s no way I want to keep working for Mr. Webber now that he has willingly thrown me in the path of his sadistic son. I wonder if daddy dearest knows about his son’s abhorrent behavior.
“You could move in with me and save your money,” Dominic suggests.
I draw back from him to look him in the eyes. They’re glittering with gold and completely serious. His somber expression sends a jolt of something through me—it’s more than lust, this thing between us. More than physical attraction, though there’s a heavy dose of that, of course. He’s the most gorgeous man—or Krampus—that I’ve ever met, and I want him so much, it’s ridiculous. But that doesn’t mean I can move into his house after sharing one hot kiss.
I lift my eyebrow. “I think my mother would disown me if I did that before I brought you home for Sunday dinner.” Then I pat his chest, resisting the urge to trace the outlines of his impressive muscles. “Besides, how do you know I don’t have a massive collection of creepy porcelain dolls that I’d need to move to your place?”
He pinches my ass in admonishment. “Brat.” Then he pauses, looking somewhat sheepish. “Would it upset you to know that I…know that you don’t? Have a collection of dolls, that is?”
I squint up at him. “Possibly. Depends on how you know.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, apart from the spying on your darkest thoughts, I’ve been…observing you.”
“In my home?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, no, I’d never. I mean. I haven’t. But if I saw you in town…at the post office. Or in the shops.”
I think of the maple bacon donut incident and cringe. Of course . If I can sense him, if I’ve developed a Koch-radar… “You have a Gianna-radar?”
He laughs. “You could call it that.”
“Ugh.” I palm my forehead. “Sorry for hiding from you that day.”
He shakes his head. “No apology needed. I have my glamour to hide my bad days from the world, but you don’t.” He touches my cheek again. “The offer stands. But maybe we’ll start with a visit? Tonight?”
He seems so hopeful, I have to grin. The embarrassment at knowing he saw me hide behind a van disappears in light of his obvious excitement.
“All right,” I agree. “My bed is too small for you anyway.”
With that, I twist away from him and saunter for the door. He catches up to me and offers me his arm, then leads me out into the hallway.
“What are you planning, Miss Marino, that requires a bed that’s larger than yours?” he murmurs to me as we pass a line of people queueing for the bathroom.
I glance around, but I’m not brave enough to say the words out loud. Then it hits me—I don’t have to. I peer at him from the corner of my eyes and paint a picture in my mind. Of me, putting on a fresh coat of lipstick in front of the mirror, then turning on my heels to face him. Of him, tugging my hair back as I sink to my knees…
He groans. “Gianna. Stop this.”
I grin, shimmying with glee. “Ooh, this is going to be so good.”
“Speech, speech,” the crowd choruses suddenly.
Blinking, I take in the scene in front of us. I didn’t even notice that we’d rounded the corner and returned to the spacious living room. The guests are still here , still partying like the incident with Brandon had never happened—which, to their knowledge, it did not.
“Fuck.” A growling curse beside me is punctuated by a heavy arm slung around my shoulders. “Why are there so many people here?”
I plaster myself to his side, not even caring that someone might see. Stacy would cheer me on—and she’s the only one here whose opinion I care about.
“There’s no way we can leave now without drawing attention to the fact that we’re escaping. Come on, we can hide behind this tree.”
I tug on Dominic’s jacket, and he follows me to the corner of the room, into the shadow of one of the tall Christmas trees that the Webbers have put up. I squint at the decorations, little candles burning on the branches.
“Surely this is a fire hazard,” I whisper.
My Krampus chuckles darkly. “Mrs. Webber is a fire witch. You’re perfectly safe.”
Ah . That would explain the torches and brazier in the driveway, as well as her idiotic offspring’s heated grip.
Somewhere behind the green tree branches, the ornaments, and the wall of people, a woman—Mrs. Webber, presumably—begins a speech. I squeeze my legs together, uncomfortable. My thigh-highs are slipping down my legs, which I should have known would be an issue in a room this warm. I hope they don’t slip too low. I would die of embarrassment if people from the office saw the lacy edge of my stockings.
“Are you all right?” Dominic murmurs.
He’s leaning down, and his minty breath brushes over my cheek, sending my thoughts into a tailspin. I need to taste him again—and get out of this party, stat.
“Gianna?” he prompts when I don’t answer him.
The crowd cheers, and I clap politely without knowing what’s happening. I think it’s Mr. Webber who takes up the speech, but I don’t care.
I glance at the tall man standing by my side, and for a moment, I consider lying to him. But I can’t. I’m physically incapable of telling him even a white lie, which should be concerning, but instead, I just feel safe. No matter how much bigger and older he is than me, he gives me a sense of comfort that no one else has ever achieved.
So I lift on my tiptoes and wait for him to crane his neck down to me, then whisper, “My tights are sliding down my legs. I shouldn’t have put on lotion, but I wasn’t thinking very clearly when I got ready tonight.”
A shudder goes through him. Maybe I’ve shared too much? But he moves to stand directly behind me, then tugs me a step backward, then another, until we’re completely hidden behind the Christmas tree.
“What—?” I gasp as his fingers skim the hem of my dress. “What are you doing?”
He lets out a low hum, almost a purr. “I’m fixing the issue. Now be good and keep facing forward so people won’t notice what I’m doing here.”
“Dominic…”
He slips his hands under my skirt. Then a claw trails the line on the back of my thigh. There’s a strange disconnect between what I see—the glamoured Dominic, almost human, and the touch of his clawed hand. My skin erupts in goose bumps, and at his low growl, I barely hold back a whimper.
Dominic pinches the lacy edge of my left stocking and tugs it up gently, as if he’s being careful not to rip the delicate fabric. “Like so?” he asks.
I jerk my chin down in a nod.
He hums in approval. “You smell so fucking good.”
Behind the tree, Mr. Webber drones on and on about our company’s many accomplishments this year.
When Dominic moves his hands to my right thigh, I sway in place and clutch at his shoulder in support, groping blindly behind me. I’m panting, my heartbeat racing, but do I stop him? No, I do not.
He pulls the second stocking in place, but he doesn’t remove his hands from me. Instead, he squeezes my thigh more firmly. “I want to taste you. If we don’t leave this party in the next five minutes, I’ll have you right here. Is that what you want, Gianna?”
I think about it—him spinning me around and pushing me into the wall, then hiking up the skirt of my dress and sinking his cock into me—and he groans, his mouth hovering right over my shoulder. He presses a hot kiss to my skin, then bites me gently, not enough to hurt but a warning, nonetheless, to stop teasing him.
“I think he’s finally at the end of his speech,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “We can go straight after.”
His clawed hand slips up to the crease of my thigh. “This party would end much sooner if I dispatched all the sinners, you know.”
I let out a soft laugh. “No dispatching.”
He doesn’t agree with me, and the thrill of knowing that he’s barely leashing his violent side shouldn’t have such a powerful effect on me, but it does.
The guests and the hosts are saved by the end of Mr. Webber’s droning. A polite applause echoes around the room, chatter starting up again. Dominic slowly removes his hand from where it was skimming my ass and lowers the hem of my dress.
“There,” he says, “all better.”
I glower at him over my shoulder. I’m far from better . If he so much as touched my clit, I’d likely self-combust, and now I have to smile and nod at my coworkers as if nothing happened.
“Let’s go,” I growl, taking him by the cuff of his sleeve and tugging him in the general direction of the front door.
His low chuckle is for my ears only, but he allows me to lead him on. When we reach a cluster of slightly drunk partiers, he takes over, his hand hovering at the small of my back as he finds a path for us. From the corner of my eye, I see a flash of green, and when I meet Stacy’s gaze, she gives me a not-so-subtle wink and a thumbs-up. I can’t help but grin in return, because yes , this situation definitely deserves it.
We don’t stop to chat with the hosts. I was seen by most of my coworkers, I stayed here for the speeches, so I did my part. It’s Christmas Eve, after all, and I’m human. I should have had this evening off by all accounts—but I’m glad now that I attended this party, even if it started off so badly.
Dominic takes the cloakroom chip from me and collects our coats, then holds mine out for me like an old-school gentleman. I want to tease him for being so old-fashioned, then realize it’s an excuse for him to sniff my hair, which sends another wave of lust through me.
Then we’re out the door. The snow hasn’t let up one bit, and the snowflakes flutter around the torches lining the driveway. I shiver in the cold air, but it does nothing to dampen my need—it only serves to sharpen my senses and chase away the fug of the stale party air. Dominic notices me wobbling on my heels on the path, which is now covered with an inch of snow, and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“My car is just down the street,” he tells me. “Are you okay to walk or do you want me to get it while you wait here?”
I press myself closer to his side and glance around, wondering if Brandon has already left the house. “I can walk.”
My foot slips out from under me the moment I say this, and I cling to Dominic’s coat for support. He stares down at me for a beat, then turns so we’re facing each other, dips down, and scoops me up into his arms.
“Oh!” I scrabble to hold on to his shoulders. “You don’t have to?—”
He gives me that smirking smile and a little squeeze. “But I want to.”
And he carries me off into the night.