Page 11 of Starstruck with the Krampus (Clearwater Monsters #3)
CHAPTER 11
GIANNA
A shaft of sunlight pierces my eyelids, and I groan. Then I try to roll away from the offending brightness but find myself pinned to something hard and warm and fuzzy, and my heart does a happy flip at the realization that this is Dominic and it’s morning, and I’m still in his bed.
I enjoy a moment of pure bliss, remembering everything we did last evening—and at midnight, and at three in the morning, at which point I fell asleep with Dominic still hard inside my pussy because I was too exhausted to stay awake.
The twinge between my legs tells me that I might need a day of rest before we attempt to repeat all of this. But I regret the fact that Dominic’s cock seems to have slipped from me sometime in the night, and not just because of the sticky mess we’ve made.
It turns out that having him inside me is my new favorite thing. And the Krampus might not know this yet, but I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get my favorite thing, over and over again.
I carefully shift to my back and peer at his handsome sleeping face. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll mind me trying to stay as close as possible. He’d confessed to being obsessed with me, and I love it. How he treats me, how protective he is of me—I don’t mind any of it, and if this is going to be my future, I’m here for it.
It’s a good thing it’s Christmas, so I don’t have to go to work.
Then it hits me.
“Oh, shit!”
I scramble up, reaching for the beautiful, old-fashioned alarm clock on Dominic’s bedside table. But even before my bleary eyes make out the clock hands, I know I’m screwed. It’s the middle of winter in Maine, and the sun is high, which means it’s no longer early morning at all…
Eleven-thirty .
“ Shit! ”
Beside me, Dominic groans and peers at me blearily, then covers his head and burrows deeper into the pillows until only his horns are sticking out, apparently deciding that I’m in one piece and therefore not in immediate danger.
“Dominic, wake up !” I shake his muscular shoulder and try not to get distracted by how good his warm skin feels under my palm. “We’re late!”
“What?”
He yawns and covers his mouth with his palm, then lifts himself up on his elbows. The sight of him cuts through my panic, and I grin at him.
“Oh my God, you look adorable.” I giggle, reaching forward to smooth back his hair. “Not a morning person, then?”
He skewers me with a glare, then slips his gaze from my face to my naked body, and his dark eyes warm with appreciation. “No, but I’ll make an exception for this .”
He reaches for my left breast, tweaking my nipple, and I squeak and slap his hand away. I try not to look at how the sheets tent in his lap now that he’s sitting upright, because I don’t want to get distracted by his magnificent cock when we’re in so much trouble.
“My mother’s Christmas Day lunch starts at one, but we have to be there early. She hates it if we’re late because the food gets cold and she’s making fresh?—”
I bite my tongue to stop my babble, because Dominic is staring at me with a shell-shocked expression.
“Your mother’s Christmas Day lunch?”
My heart stutters. “Um. Yeah. I mean, I have to go, but I thought…” I pick up the covers and hold them against my chest, suddenly unsure. “I thought you might want to come, because of what we talked about last night, but if you have other plans, you don’t have to.”
His gaze softens, then he reaches for me and drags me onto his lap despite my flailing. He wraps his strong arms around me and kisses me deeply, each lick of his talented tongue sending shivers down my spine. When he breaks away, I’m breathing hard, hanging on to his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin.
“I’d love to come,” he rumbles. “If you don’t think your mother will mind?”
I shake my head. “She’ll love you.”
I gaze at him from under my lashes, holding back the words I want to blurt out next. One shock is enough for this morning, and I want to save the confession for a time when we’re not rushed and heading out to lunch with my family.
Dominic sifts his fingers through my hair. “Does she know about supernaturals?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, worry rising in my chest. “Do you want me to tell them first? Then you can go without your glamour…”
“Not today.” He smiles softly. “We do need to be careful, and this decision involves every supernatural, not just me. This doesn’t mean you can’t tell them later. Let’s get introductions out of the way today.”
“Yeah.” I kiss his cheek. “I want to tell my mom eventually. I don’t want you to have to hide what you are from her.”
She’s important to me. She raised me alone after Dad passed away, never missing one school play or parent-teacher conference, even though she worked two jobs for years to help make ends meet. Now that I have a good job, I try to spoil her whenever I can. And I need her to accept Dominic exactly as he is—which I know she’ll do.
“I need a shower.” I scramble up from the bed. “And then you’ll have to drive me to my apartment so I can pick up a change of clothes.”
I nudge my discarded, wrinkled dress with my toe, sighing. We’re in such big trouble. I really should have planned this better, but I thought for sure I’d have enough time this morning, even though I’d anticipated spending the night at Dominic’s. I didn’t think we’d spend all night together. Then I realize Dominic is staring at me, his expression sheepish.
“We might not, uh, need to do that,” he says.
He gets up, and I only glance at his firm, muscular ass twice as he makes his way to the walk-in closet that I failed to notice last night. Though to be fair, I was pretty distracted by the amazing things Dominic was doing to my body. I stifle a groan and follow him into the closet, sniffing subtly at the scent of his minty cologne rising all around us. This must be where he puts it on each morning. I could live in here happily, surrounded by his scent.
Dominic raises an eyebrow at me, and I blush. That wasn’t a bad thought, was it?
“I bought some things,” he says finally. “They reminded me of you.”
It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows. “Things?”
He huffs out a breath, then pulls open first one drawer, then another, and another. Overall, they represent a small portion of the large closet, but they’re stacked full of…
“Is that a scrunchie?” I reach forward.
Dominic steps out of the way and stands by my side as I explore the treasure trove. There’s the red scrunchie, very similar to the one I own, with a little bow on top. There are soft cashmere sweaters, leggings, and fuzzy socks. There’s also underwear—a lot of it—and I send Dominic a look over my shoulder, then laugh when that makes him rub his neck in embarrassment.
Most of the items are red, the deep, rich color we used for his branding. I love that he bought all of this for me, but there’s one slight issue…
“If I put on an all-red outfit, I’ll look like a tomato,” I murmur. “Or Mrs. Claus.”
Dominic smiles. “Yeah, I figured it might be a bit much.” He slides one of the drawers all the way out and points to something black in the very back. “Those should help.”
In the end, I choose the thermal leggings he suggested, a red cashmere sweater with a high neckline to hide his bite, and that scrunchie he seems to like so much. We shower separately because I don’t trust myself—or him—to behave if we got in together. I don’t have time to wash my hair, so I brush it out with Dominic’s hairbrush and hope it doesn’t smell like I had a night of delicious sex. I use his moisturizer, too, grinning at the fact that the big Krampus even has a moisturizer in his bathroom.
By the time I make it out into the living room, carrying a pair of cute ankle boots he bought for me, he’s made us both coffee in travel mugs.
“Marry me,” I groan, taking the first sip of the delicious brew, prepared with milk and one sugar, just as I like it.
Dominic stills behind the counter where he’s been tying a golden bow to a bottle of Italian Chianti, which he’d unearthed from somewhere to bring to my mother.
A hot blush makes its way up my neck and into my cheeks. I didn’t mean it like that , of course—it’s something that slipped out by accident. But now that I’ve said it, I don’t want to take it back. First of all, I don’t want to hurt Dominic by stumbling over an apology, and second, I did mean it a little like that.
His gaze roams over my face, as if he’s trying to decide if I’m being serious. In answer, I lift my chin a fraction and hold steady, not backing down.
Finally, his handsome face splits into a wide grin that shows off all his fangs. His eyes crinkle in the corners, and he says, “I will.”
Tears sting my eyes, and a bubble of happiness erupts in my chest, unexpected and beautiful. “Oh God.”
He strides to me and wraps me in a big hug, then drops a kiss to my forehead. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
I should want to stay here and discuss this, make sure that he understands that we have to date for some time at least before jumping into matrimony, but…I don’t. I’m happy to follow him wherever fate takes us.
T he lunch at my mother’s house turns out beautifully. Mom did a double-take when she opened the door and found Dominic standing beside me on the porch. Her eyes slid to me in a question, but something on my face must have told her I’m very serious about dating him, and besides, I wouldn’t have brought him to her house if I’d had any doubts.
She’d pulled him into a firm hug, accepted the wine bottle, and had him stirring the pot of pasta sauce five minutes later. I think he was a little scared of her, which was cute to see—I didn’t think the guy who nearly liquefied Brandon’s brains was afraid of anything, but apparently petite Italian ladies are his weakness.
He met my grandparents, too. He shook Nonno’s frail hand and gave Nonna a respectful bow, then helped them get settled at the table. He was polite and attentive, and every time I met his gaze across the table, I couldn’t contain a smile.
After tiramisu and espresso are served and demolished, Mom herds me into the hallway. Dominic gently but firmly shooed her out of the kitchen, claiming that the cook shouldn’t have to do the dishes. He rolled up the sleeves of his expensive button-down and started on the pans, so we left him there and put Nonno to bed for his afternoon nap.
“He’s lovely,” Mom says, eyes shining. “Have you been dating long? You haven’t said anything.”
I bite my lip, wondering how to explain our relationship, then settle on, “No, this is a fairly recent development. But I’ve known him since January. He was a client, so we couldn’t see each other until our work together was complete.”
She clucks in annoyance. “That Mr. Webber. Always with his stupid rules.”
I decide not to tell her about how he tried to shove me into his psycho son’s arms at the Christmas party and assure her instead that I’ll be searching for a new job soon.
“Anything you want.” She pats my cheek. “I know you’ll make the right choice.”
She leaves me in the hall to go check on Nonno again, and I wander toward the sitting room where Nonna is watching reruns of her favorite Italian soap opera. When she sees me hovering in the doorway, she lowers the volume on the TV and pats the couch beside her.
I sit next to her, and she takes my hand between her palms, her skin cool and papery. I hug her with my other arm, inhaling her scent of rosewater and the face cream she’s been using since before I was born. The Christmas tree in the corner is decorated with the same ornaments we’ve had for decades, beautiful pieces that remind me of Dominic’s magical garden. When I glance up, I see him hunched over the kitchen sink, elbows-deep in sudsy water. He’s a new addition to this scene, but he fits somehow, even though he’s a seven-foot-tall Krampus in a bespoke suit.
Nonna squeezes my hand tighter and clears her throat. “I will call Father Roberto. See if he has any weekends free this May.”
“What for?” I tear my gaze away from Dominic to look at her.
She gives me a small smile. “For your wedding, cara .”
I gasp, shushing her. I’m pretty sure Dominic’s hearing is better than any human’s, and I don’t want him listening to my nonna plan a wedding after I’ve forcefully dragged him to an unplanned family lunch.
I think of the words I blurted out so carelessly this morning and of his reaction to them. We shouldn’t be moving this quickly, but a little voice in my head reminds me that I’ve been lusting after Dominic for a full twelve months. This isn’t some quick crush that will melt away with the first spring sun but an emotion much deeper than that.
At that moment, Dominic glances to the side and catches my gaze. His human glamour is in place, but I catch the gold glimmer in his eyes when he smiles at me.
“He is like…” My nonna tugs on my sleeve, impatient. “ Come si dice un girasole? ”
“A sunflower.” I focus back on her.
“Yes, that.” She nods resolutely, folding her hands in her lap. “He is like a sunflower, and you are the sun. Always, he is looking at you.”
My heart skips a beat at her words. She’s right, I know it. But I don’t want to admit this to Nonna, not yet. “When I brought Kaden to dinner, you told me he would break my heart if I wasn’t careful,” I remind her of my ex-boyfriend. “Now you’re planning my wedding?”
She snorts. “That boy wasn’t right for you.”
She’s right, of course. Kaden and I split up after several months of infrequent dates, and because I took Nonna’s advice, my heart was safe from any pain. This thing with Dominic is completely different.
“But Dominic is?” I ask. “Right for me, I mean.”
She shrugs, her bony shoulders lifting briefly. “I think so. But what do I know? I am just an old woman. You’ll make your own decision.” Then she sends me a sly look and adds, “But maybe I’ll call Father Roberto just in case, hmm? Spring wedding dates are hard to find.”
In the kitchen, Dominic lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like suppressed laughter. I glance up to find him grinning at me, and he shrugs, as if to say, ‘Who are we to deny an old lady?’
I shake my head, but I can’t help the smile that stretches my lips. So maybe we’ll get married this spring. Or maybe we’ll wait. I only know that life with him will be a beautiful, sparkling adventure.