Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
DOMINIC
G ianna feels like heaven in my arms. For a mad second, I consider leaving the car where it is and carrying her all the way to my house so I can indulge in holding her like this for longer. Then I trace my thumb over the sheer fabric of her tights, and I give myself a firm mental smack. She’s human, and I need to get her out of the cold as soon as possible. My kind were made for this weather, for snow and ice and darkness, but Gianna needs warmth.
I can give her that at least.
My car materializes out of the gloom, covered with a layer of white. I set my precious charge on her feet by the passenger-side door and open it for her. Then I dip in on the driver’s side and turn on the heat for her, including the seat warmer. I’ve never used the function before, but I’m glad my German-made machine has it.
She looks so cute, wrapped in her thick scarf and cloak, her nose pink, that I can’t resist kissing her again. Her lips part in surprise, but a second later, she responds with that passion I knew she has in her—she grips the collar of my coat and tugs me down, then meets my tongue with hers, licking me shyly.
When I lift my head, I’m breathing hard, and Gianna’s eyes are glossy with need. I growl, then shut the door on her because I need to get us moving, not devour her right here, where she could get chilled and catch a cold.
By the time I slide into my seat and start the car, I’ve cooled down enough. But when I glance at Gianna, she’s staring at me, her head cocked to the side, as if she’s listening to the engine.
“What is it?” I ask.
She purses her lips. “I know this sound…”
I consider telling her that it’s a common enough car, but I can’t lie to her. “I, uh, followed your cab. I wanted to make sure you made it to the party safely.”
I grip the steering wheel with both hands, the leather creaking under my palms. I wait for her to finally realize how unhinged that sounds, how stalkery, and freak out.
But Gianna nestles deeper into the warmth and clips in her seat belt. “That’s nice of you.”
I wait a moment longer, but she’s not demanding to be let out of the car, nor does she smell scared. I blow out a deep breath and ease the car onto the road. My senses are telling me this snow will last all night, turning into a true blizzard near midnight, but the roads aren’t too bad yet. I put my hand on Gianna’s knee, unable to keep from touching her, and she glances at me.
“Will you remove the glamour?” she asks quietly. “Is it safe in the car?”
I peer through the windshield. My windows are tinted, and the roads are empty. So I slip the ring off my thumb and pocket it, relief washing over me that she wants this.
She’s not afraid .
She takes my hand and explores my palm, running the pad of her finger over each of my claws. Then she places her hand on top of it, comparing our sizes. I keep my gaze on the road and let her familiarize herself with me, even if it’s only this small part.
At an intersection in the middle of the town, I stop, then gaze down at her. “I want you to know that I can still take you home if you want.”
The words are difficult for me to say, and I have to force them through my teeth. I want Gianna in my house, in my bed—I’ve wanted that for months —but I couldn’t bear it if she did any of this because she felt pressured into it.
Her grip on my hand tightens, and she interlaces her fingers with mine. She lifts both our hands to her lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles. Then she simply sits back and gazes at me calmly, a smile playing on her red lips.
“All right,” I grumble, but my chest feels lighter than it has in ages. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She murmurs, “You know, it’s a shame the roads are so bad. I don’t want to distract you from driving.”
I squint at her. “Distract me?”
Instead of answering, she flashes a mental image at me of her leaning over the console and taking my cock out of my pants, then sinking her lips onto it.
I jerk in my seat, almost swerving on the road. “Fuck, Gianna, warn me next time, will you?”
My cock reacts as if her thoughts really happened, swelling behind the fly of my dress pants, hard as a rock.
“I’m sorry!” She giggles and turns her face away from me. “It’s just so much fun. I didn’t think mind reading could be a good thing. You can switch it off, though, right?”
I could, but I’d never do that with her. I want to see every filthy thought she ever has.
It takes all my self-control not to put my foot down on the accelerator and speed through the streets of Clearwater, but I don’t dare drive too fast with her in my car. Still, I breathe a sigh of relief when we drive into my neighborhood. Then another thought occurs to me—that Gianna might think my place is too strange. I don’t often have visitors here beyond my family, and they all enjoy the same things as I do.
I want her to like my home. I want her to move in and live here with me, but as she said, we might not be ready for that yet. But none of that will happen if she’s not comfortable here.
“Oh, hey.” She peers out the window. “I think I ran past here once on my morning jog.”
I try not to imagine Gianna in tight-fitting running gear, her skin glistening with sweat, and fail.
“It’s a nice neighborhood,” she offers when I don’t reply.
“I bought three plots of land,” I tell her to distract myself from thinking dirty thoughts. “So I could have enough space.”
It was almost two decades ago, back when I first moved into this town known for its supernatural presence. This part of town was less densely populated, which suited my needs perfectly.
“Enough space for what?” she asks.
Instead of answering, I make the final turn and stop the car in front of the wrought-iron gates of my property.
Gianna faces me, her eyes wide. “You live here ?”
I understand her confusion. The wall surrounding my land is seven feet high, and tall fir trees further obscure the view, imposing and covered with fresh snow. The orange light on top of the gate blinks at us as the iron panel slides to the side. Then I ease the car forward, the tires crunching on the driveway.
Gianna drops my hand and leans forward, her face alight with curiosity.
I could drive all the way up to the house in the dark, then carry Gianna straight inside, where it’s warm. But I’m a vain Krampus. I want her to see what I’ve created and I want her to experience the full effect.
It’s Christmas, after all.
So I reach for my phone and thumb the settings for the lights on my property. I switch them on, and Gianna immediately rewards me with a gasp.
I turn to her, grinning. “Welcome to my home.”