Chapter 17
Christine
Why did I have the distinct feeling there was something very odd about the sexy Zamboni man?
The question lingered in my mind even now as the hum of the engine and the closeness of the man in cramped quarters was keeping me tingling all over.
Even my pussy was throbbing, so much so every time I shifted in my seat, I was reminded of the night we’d spent together.
Something I’d told myself I’d need to shove aside.
“Holy shit.”
Those were the two words I’d heard from my flower killer as soon as I’d opened the door.
My last boyfriend, for the entirety of the four months I’d wasted dating him, had never used those words.
I’d learned the hard way that when a man used those two words in a sentence, they were usually reserved for something sports related they’d seen on television. But Danny was genuinely shocked at seeing me in a slinky dress.
My ex had almost always found a way of making fun of me.
Subtle words used by a man who’d believed Rolexes were the pinnacle of success.
It had been the single time I’d allowed my mother to ‘hook me up’ with someone.
Those had been her words when mentioning him over an ill-fated lunch.
I’d spit out my red wine all over her thousand-dollar Prada dress.
Her horror had been my amusement, but to make up my faux pas to her, I’d been forced to agree to go out with him.
At first, the few dates had been okay. They’d turned into him trying to tell me how to dress, ordering for me at dinner, telling me in no uncertain terms being a teacher was what people with no brain resorted to, and ignoring me altogether by scrolling on his phone.
How many times had he told me what an important man he was as a stockbroker?
When I’d had enough, that had meant tossing a glass of wine in his face at my mother’s favorite restaurant. That had been the effective end of our mother-daughter relationship.
“What kind of man am I required to be?” When my current and much more handsome date asked me that question, I couldn’t help but gawk for a few seconds.
“Were you reading my mind?”
“Do you think I can?” His grin was wide.
“I’m beginning to wonder. Anyway, what do you mean what kind of man?”
“Well,” he started while twisting his hand around the steering wheel. “Should I be a doctor? I know my work is beneath your parents. I can even fake being a surgeon. You might be surprised. I’ll just describe the appendectomy they accidentally kept me awake on.”
“What? You were kept awake?”
“The anesthesia didn’t work. Anyway, I can be anyone you want me to be.”
How horrible that I’d almost suggested he pretend to be anything but what he was. “No. You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t mind. Being a Zamboni driver must embarrass you.”
“As long as you’re not a shifter, then everything will be fine.”
“How come?”
“My father says shifters are disgusting, horrible creatures who don’t deserve to breathe clean air or live in communities.
They only deserve to be in cages.” Reciting what my father had said since the monumental discovery chafed my butt to this day.
Maybe I should warn Danny all over again what he was getting himself into.
No, I didn’t want to terrify him any more than I had.
“I’m sorry. Just be you. I can’t ask you to be anything else. ”
He didn’t say anything, which surprised me. Maybe I’d shocked him by not conforming to what my parents wanted.
For once, I hadn’t either.
I’d chosen something I hoped my flower killer would love and apparently, he did.
Well, I had to admit the clothes I’d worn up until now had been either too skimpy or too schoolmarm-like. Seeing Danny’s face and the wild look of hunger in his eyes was almost all I’d needed to feel more self-confident in heading to dinner.
He’d even offered a slight growl in appreciation, which had turned me on more than any other sound he could make. The man who’d graced the presence of my tiny foyer had not only filled the doorway, but in the shimmer of light offered by the waning sun, he’d appeared every girl’s wet dream.
My, oh my, the man could clean up well. I’d casually asked him if he owned a suit when I’d called and he’d laughed before huffing and puffing as if pouting. I’d tried to remind myself that this was just to appease my family.
By the time we’d left, my legs had been trembling.
And now that we were on the outskirts of Jacksonville, I was all hot and bothered. I’d tried to tell myself it was all about the Trans Am and its big block engine.
But somewhere fifty miles out from Tampa, I’d stopped lying to myself.
“Is it hot in here?” I asked while shifting in my seat before fiddling with the air conditioning vents.
I’d gone out on a limb and purchased a sexy dress, one that was way over my budget.
It was also on the naughty side complete with a slit stretching precariously close to my matching panties that I’d purposely worn.
No bra.
A lacy thong.
And fuck me pumps.
Couple that with encouraging my long curls to go wild for the night and no wonder my partner in crime had been sporting a thick bulge from the minute I’d opened the door.
You bet I’d pulled out the stops to throw in my father’s face that I had a life to live. He needed to get used to the fact I wasn’t going to be his go-to girl to sing his praises.
There was no such thing as being too prepared to walk into my father’s lair.
My father expected perfection.
No, he expected me to be someone I wasn’t.
A perfect angel who would do anything he wanted no matter the circumstances or the outcome and to do so without asking a single question.
I might have been raised that way, but I certainly hadn’t performed to the best of my ability.
At least according to him.
Maybe that’s why I was all hot and bothered, beads of perspiration tickling both sides of my neck.
I’d been forced to live by my father’s rules while accepting his money for college, which I often regretted, but no longer.
Sure, I’d felt guilty given the amount of money my parents had spent even with insurance coverage, but after I’d grown into an adult, I’d come to realize there was no reason to feel guilty. They were my parents after all and their net worth was in the high millions.
If there was one thing I’d learned from being my father’s daughter, it was that money couldn’t buy happiness. My parents were two of the most miserable people I’d ever met.
“You can turn up the air if you need to,” my date told me. Was he grinning?
So I did, flicking the knob to high. Which didn’t do much of anything.
I was so anxious that I leaned over, fanning my face in such a way as to try to push more air in my direction.
Now I was panting like some wild animal.
Hearing a slight chuckle, I snapped my head in his direction. “Are you making fun of me?”
“How could I make fun of a woman so beautiful?”
“Uh-huh. You’re just trying to get on my good side.”
As soon as he rolled to a stop at a traffic light, he threw me a look that could easily ignite a fire. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Very funny. I don’t think your air conditioning is working at full capacity.”
“Maybe I just make you hot. Did you ever think of that?”
Very slowly, I threw him a look. “Nice try, but no. You’re average at best.”
“Oh, a win with the zingers.”
I couldn’t help but smile. The truth was every time I looked at him, I wanted to jump straight into his lap. That wasn’t like me in the least. I was a good girl.
Well, most of the time.
So why had all my thoughts since asking him to join me for dinner been about devouring him instead of food? It didn’t make any sense to me. Sure, he was hot, but my pussy was throbbing to the point I was ready to drive my fingers between my legs to garner some relief.
And forget about my nipples. They were swollen and so red I’d been concerned for a little while after taking a shower.
“Can I ask you a question?” I threw out.
“I have a feeling you’re going to ask me anyway even if I say no.”
“You’d be right. How is it possible that the cut under your eye healed so quickly?”
He seemed put off by my question. “You just thought it was a deep cut. It wasn’t.”
“You forget I touched your face. I felt the cut. It was deep enough I was concerned you needed stitches.”
“I think you were just excited. It’s a little sore but that’s it.”
When he touched his face, his dark chuckle should annoy the hell out of me. Instead, I was even more turned on than before. “Uh-huh. Are you a shifter?”
My question startled him to the point he pressed his foot down on the accelerator, almost causing us to get into an accident. “Do I look like a shifter to you?”
“I don’t know what shifters look like. In truth, I think they are nothing but figments of people’s imaginations.”
“Oh, you do, huh? Even after all the sightings?”
“You know how the press is. If they do exist, they aren’t just walking around amongst us. That’s crazy.” I was now using both hands to try to get more air.
It wasn’t working.
I was close to suffocating.
“From what I understand they do exist.”
“Then how do I recognize one?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Honestly, I don’t know if there’s any telltale sign.”
Was he grinning at me? Oh, the arrogance of the man. I’d been right in the first place.
“My turn for a question. Why are you so nervous about having dinner with your parents?”
“Just wait until you meet them. Then you’ll completely understand. They’ve tried to control my entire life since birth.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning they are insufferable. Just wait. It’s way too hot in here.” Shifting back, I pressed the button for the window. The whirring sound indicated that the motor was working but the window wasn’t budging. When I smacked my fist against it not once but twice, his reaction was swift.
Somehow, while still driving, he managed to unfasten his seatbelt, reach over and grab my arm. The shot of electricity from his touch was as unnerving as the heat rushing through my system.
“You’re going to break the window.”