“You don’t believe me. You think I’m joking.” He lifted a finger to trail along my jawline, sending a shiver vibrating down my spine.
“That or you really believe you’re the Krampus, and I just think you’re crazy. But so what? I made you an accessory to murder. Who am I to judge?”
He gripped my jaw, his thumb rubbing my lower lip with a growling sigh. “If you invite me inside, understand what you’re signing up for.”
“Let’s say I’m just crazy enough to believe you. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Maybe you should be.”
My chest clenched at his words, the frigid air sticking in my lungs. “If you’re so dangerous, why have you been following me around? Why did you let me kiss you the other night?”
“I had no idea just how much my demon craves you, until now.”
A flutter erupted between my thighs at the way his eyes lit up, but I stuffed down the feeling, steeling my nerves. “I’ve faced bigger monsters than you. What are you gonna do, stuff me in a bag? Take me into the mountains and beat me with a stick?”
He licked his lips, that evil gleam in his eyes growing brighter by the second until his irises were glowing with a supernatural incandescence.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Clara.”
Chapter Eleven
Clara
After ghosting me and creeping on me through the window—though there was a small part of me that secretly liked the later—Ishouldhave turned him out into the cloud.
But the way he was looking at me had me buzzing with a lust I’d never felt with Hogan. It was a feral kind of need I didn’t even know was possible to experience outside of books.
Even if he was full of shit about being the Krampus, which he was—because in what world could that be real life—it was hardto say no to that look. The one that promised all kinds of twisted pleasures and magical secrets.
How could I say no to that?
“How perfect. All I want for Christmas is to live out my dark fantasy of being kidnapped and dicked down in the mountains. The Krampus cock is a new element but, hey, I’m flexible with the details.”
I went back inside and held the door open for him. “Come inside. Unless you’re kidnapping me right now, in which case I should probably put on real pants. Or maybe your dance card is full.Krampusnachtis over but there’s still plenty of naughty people to punish. Children to terrorize.”
Kicking my boots off, I went to the kitchen to fetch the eggnog, forgoing the glass this time and flopping on the living room couch. Bastion slowly followed me but didn’t sit down. He stared at the tree, admiring all the antique glass ornaments and bubble lights. “You’re playing with fire. You think you’re calling my bluff but there’s no bluff to call.”
He paused to admire one of the more modern ornaments, a faded paper Santa Claus I’d made when I was in the first grade. “Anyway, the Krampus doesn’t punish children. At least, he hasn’t for a long time. I think someone in my line at some point hated kids, so that’s probably where that came from.”
“So the part of the story where the Krampus accompanies Saint Nicolas to punish all the naughty kids while Santa rewards all the good ones isn’t true?”
“No, Saint Nicolas isn’t real, Clara. Or at least not how society interprets him today. There’s noKrampusnachteither. Krampus terrorizes whatever day he feels like, not just December fifth.”
“So what is real then?” I sat cross-legged on the couch with the bottle of eggnog clutched in my hands, happy for the company and the entertainment, even if I wasn’t buying his story. Sure,he’d moved fast outside, and for a moment his eyes seemed like they were glowing. I blamed it on the rum and brandy-spiked eggnog. “How do you figure out who needs punishing? Do you work locally? Are there more of you? How do you run your tree farm and still have time for this secret life? Are you like Bigfoot if he was batman?”
“I love that you feel open to running your mouth now that Hogan’s gone.”
“I’m not running my mouth,” I lied, knowing full-well I was being a bit overzealous with my line of questioning. He was right though, I did feel open to speak whatever was on my mind. It was refreshing. And even though he said I wasn’t safe with him, being curled up on the couch talking about the Krampus in my old house with the man who’d help me win all this back, I’d never felt safer.
“You are. I like it.” He prowled toward me, leaning down until he loomed over me with his hands braced on either side of the couch, caging me between his arms. His eyes were glowing again, their brand-hot heat making my skin explode with goosebumps. “But the demon might not find it so cute.”
I knew this time that it wasn’t a trick of the Christmas lights catching in his eyes, or the spiked eggnog. His eyes really were glowing. My mouth dropped into an O as I gaped up at the man in awe. “How are you doing that?”
“Come on, little beast.” That new nickname he had for me,oof. It was all gravely and wrapped up in all sorts of dark promises. “Don’t you see the monster inside me? Can’t you feel its need to hurt you? Doesn’t that scare you?”
I could see the monster inside him and I did feel it’s need to hurt me…
Though, now that I was slowly starting to believe his story—as insane as it was—I still couldn’t summon so much as a lick of fear. Chances were pretty low that whatever possessed my treevendor was anything like my ex. His promises of pain only had the place between my thighs growing slicker, hotter.
