Page 26 of Starstruck with the Krampus

“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 forthis.”

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 wantto 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. Thisdoesn’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 spendallnight 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 abadthought, 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—alotof 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.”

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