Page 14 of Decked Out with Ivy

“Why? That didn’t stop them from getting that first picture.”

“I thought you wanted to make me fall in love with Christmas?”

A smile lit her face, and she about-faced it to the register. “You’re right. And I have the perfect thing to do.”

“What’s that?” He swallowed, preparing himself for whatever she was about to throw at him.

She handed him a scrap of paper. “Meet me at this address at ten am tomorrow.” He looked down at the piece of paper bordered with Christmas garland and ornaments. “Assuming you’re free, then?”

“I don’t have to be on set until the day after tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

“And where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

He didn’t like the cheery lilt of her voice. He could only image what form of torture in the disguise of Christmas fun she had planned for him. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He saluted a goodbye and headed to the door. A flash reflected off the window, and he blinked away the unexpected burst oflight. “Shit,” he grumbled under his breath. He spun back to Ivy. “Change of plans.”

“Excuse me?”

He snaked his hand around her waist and tugged her into him. She let out a squeak as he crashed his lips to hers. Her body and lips tightened, but as he cupped her cheek, ran his thumb across her soft skin and moved his mouth, she relaxed into him.

It was all for the cameras. After all, if this fake relationship was going to work, they needed to play the part. But as she softened against him, everything around them faded away. He dipped her slightly, swiped his tongue across her pouty bottom lip, not expecting her to part for him. He took her invitation, slipping into her welcoming mouth.

Desire shot right to his dick, forcing the eager appendage to press uncomfortably against his pants. Ivy’s hand slid over his, holding her cheek with him. She tasted like candy canes and sweetness. He didn’t want to stop, but the money shot was delivered, and he wanted to keep this PG.

He drew away, his breath heaving out as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs. Ivy’s big eyes blinked up at him. Her kiss-swollen lips glistened and begged for him to recapture them.

“What the heck was that?” she asked, her eyes glossy and dazed.

He leaned in, brushing his mouth against the curve of her ear. “Paparazzi. I couldn’t miss the chance to really make us public.”

Her eyes widened. Her sexy lips parted, but before she could release a string of knife tipped words, he kissed her again—hard and fast this time—before pulling away.

“Don’t want the cameras to see that anger,” he said. “It’ll ruin our cover.”

“You’re a jerk,” she muttered, plastering a smile on her face and slipping out of his hold. He didn’t know if she would play the part, but she was nailing it. She must have really wanted to torture him with Christmas bullshit.

“See you tomorrow.” She tossed a wave over her shoulder and strutted her sweet ass to the back of the store, disappearing into a side room.

He took a moment to let his dick recoil before he stepped out into the spotlight. It was one thing to be scattered across the interwebs kissing a Christmas angel and an entirely different thing to be caught alone on the sidewalk with a hard-on.

***

The snow had stopped falling, but there was a nice coating on the ground that mixed with dirt and mud and God only knew what else. He glanced at his designer shoes, then at the sludge that was once snow.

“A tree farm? What the hell are we doing here?” he said to Ivy as he met her at the entrance. His eyes drifted to her lips, sucking on the length of a candy cane, remembering how good they felt against his.

She pulled the candy cane from her mouth. “We’re going to cut down a Christmas tree and then decorate it.”

His head snapped to attention as she continued.

“My sister usually helps me. We live together. Only way we could afford rent. Anyway, she’s away on business and won’t be back for another week, and I simply can’t wait that long.”

“Can’t you call a delivery service and a decorator to do that for you?”

She gasped, and he startled, nearly busting his ass on the slippery mud.

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