Page 5 of Candy Cane Chains
One small hand reaches up to touch the fur trim at her neckline - a nervous gesture that draws my attention to the delicate curve of her collarbone. I want to sink my teeth into that soft flesh. Mark her. Claim her.
Mine.
3
IVY
As I hear the bartender set it down, I turn to swipe my drink off the bar, trying to ignore the looming presence behind me. I down it while I try to gather myself. The bar's festive lights cast dancing shadows across the polished wood, but they do nothing to distract from the man who radiates danger like a furnace radiates heat.
Why he is right behind me, staring at me when I've never seen this guy - when I barely know Xander himself - I don't know. But he won't take his eyes off of me. I canfeelit.
But it doesn't bother me. In fact…he's really hot. Someone that might be able to make me forget my shitty night after all.
Sophie's voice cuts through my thoughts, high and excited, and I turn to look at her. The man next to me hasn't moved. "Oh my God, this is perfect!" She claps her hands together, her diamond bracelet catching the light. "Since you two are both surprise attendees, you'll have to be each other's Secret Santa."
My stomach drops. I dare a glance up at the man who doesnotlook like the kind of guy who plays Secret Santa. His ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, and something electric shoots down myspine. The kind of feeling that warns prey they're being hunted - but it also has my clit throbbing.
"I mean, everyone else brought presents because they actually said they were coming," Sophie continues, waving her champagne glass.Ouch, Sophie."But this works out so well. The universe totally planned this."
If this is what I get for what Travis did to me, I'll fucking take it. Because holy fuck this man…
He hasn't moved an inch, still standing close enough that his expensive suit jacket brushes against my arm. He smells like winter air and something darker, more complex.
But I don't know about Secret Santa. Maybe I can just get him to buy me a drink.
"Sophie-" I start, but she's already turning to the rest of the group.
"Everyone! I've got our final Secret Santa pair!" She gestures between us with her perfectly manicured hands. "Ivy and Julian are matched up. Isn't that just perfect?"
The bar's usual noise seems to fade as Julian shifts slightly closer. His presence fills my personal space like a shadow, and I have to resist the urge to lean into him. I want to touch him, to give into whatever he says.
There is something about this man that is so confident. I know that he always gets what he wants, and if he wants me, I'll let him take it.
"Perfect," he says, his voice low and controlled. The word sounds like a promise - or a threat.
Either way, it has heat pooling low in my stomach.
The group disperses into their gift-giving pairs, leaving me alone with this dangerous stranger. Julian slides onto the stool next to me, the movement fluid and controlled. His cologne wraps around me - something expensive and masculine that makes my head spin. Or maybe that's the vodka cranberries.
"Let me get you another." His eyes drop to my nearly empty glass. The smirk playing at his lips says he knows exactly what he's doing.
I try to summon my usual sparkle, the event planner charm that never fails me, but it feels hollow tonight. "That would be..." I swallow hard, my throat tight. "That would be nice."
He signals the bartender with a slight gesture. They lock eyes and somehow the man knows exactly what Julian wants. Must be nice to command that kind of attention.
"Two fingers of Macallan 25, neat. And whatever the lady was drinking." His voice carries that same quiet authority.
"Vodka cranberry," I manage, though my voice comes out smaller than intended. I clear my throat. "With lime."
Julian turns those ice-blue eyes on me fully. "Rough night?"
A laugh bubbles up, but it sounds more like a sob. I press my lips together.Come on, Ivy."That obvious?"
"You're trying very hard to hide it." He leans in slightly, and my skin prickles with awareness. "But yes."
The drinks arrive and I take a too-large sip of mine, welcoming the burn. If the first four - and three shots - haven't livened me up, maybe this fifth will.
"Usually I'm better at..." I wave my hand vaguely. "All of this. The social thing. The smiling thing."