Page 30 of Candy Cane Chains

My teeth graze her bottom lip and she moans. The sound shoots straight through me, igniting something primal. Mine. The word pounds through my blood like a war drum. She's mine, and I'd burn Chicago to the ground to keep her.

This desperate need for her should terrify me. I've spent years building walls, maintaining distance, staying in control. Now she's torn through every defense like they're made of paper. Just the touch of her, a little taste, and I'm ready to give her everything - my empire, my control, my everything.

The scariest part? I don't give a fuck. Let her take it all. As long as she keeps kissing me like this, keeps making those little sounds in the back of her throat, keeps pressing against me like she needs me as much as I need her.

She pulls back slightly, gasping for air, and I follow, reclaiming her mouth. I can't let go. Won't let go. She's awakened something in me that can never be caged again.

I will never get enough of her.

15

IVY

Iswirl the last bite of pasta around my fork, savoring the rich flavors of Julian's homemade carbonara. I didn't really expect him to be such a good cook, but he's fantastic. The kitchen's warm lighting catches the gray at his temples, so at odds with the dark black of the rest of his hair, as he leans back in his chair, ice blue eyes fixed on me.

"I have a company Christmas party coming up next week." His deep voice carries across the granite island between us.

I perk up, straightening in my seat. "Really? What are your plans for it?"

"Nothing special. Just the usual - drinks, food, networking." He takes a sip of his wine, the crystal catching the light. "It's more of an obligation than anything else."

"Oh, that won't do at all." I set my fork down with a gentle clink. "Christmas parties should be magical. The right decorations, music, food - it all creates an atmosphere people remember."

A ghost of amusement crosses his face. "You sound passionate about this."

"I was an event planner before..." I wave my hand, not wanting to bring it up. "I loved making spaces come alive. Transforming them into something special."

"Is that so?" His eyes narrow slightly, studying me.

"Let me help plan it." The words tumble out before I can stop them, and a knowing smile pulls on his face. I have a feeling he mentioned this to me on purpose. "I know all the best vendors in Chicago, the perfect caterers who can handle last-minute events. Plus, the holiday decor rental companies still owe me favors."

Julian sets his wine glass down, folding his hands on the table. "It's not exactly a typical corporate event, Ivy."

"Even better. Those are always so boring." I lean forward, excitement building. "Trust me, I can make it memorable while keeping it sophisticated. What's the venue?"

"I booked out the rooftop at Château Carbide."

"Perfect!" My mind's already racing with possibilities. "How many guests?"

"Around a hundred." He pauses, watching me intently. "You really want to do this?"

"More than anything. Please?" I give him my best smile. "Let me make it special for you."

A long moment passes before the corner of his mouth ticks up. "Alright. But I have final approval on everything."

It doesn't take me long to dive into everything. It's familiar to start getting what I need for a party together. Julian even sets me up in his office with his computer so I can start putting together mood boards and inspiration pictures.

I spread the sample menus across Julian's mahogany desk, arranging them by cuisine type. My fingers trail over the thick cardstock, tracing the elegant fonts. "The seafood tower from La Mer would make a stunning centerpiece. And look at these passed hors d'oeuvres from Antoine's."

Julian rises from his leather chair, moving to stand behind me. His presence radiates warmth against my back as he leans over my shoulder. The spicy notes of his cologne wrap around me, making it hard to focus on the papers.

"Walk me through your vision." His breath stirs my hair.

"Start with champagne and caviar." I point to the first menu. "Then these lobster bites with gold leaf. For the main stations - carved prime rib, fresh oysters, and that seafood tower. Everything elegant, indulgent."

His hand brushes mine as he picks up one of the menus. "You've chosen all my favorites."

"I pay attention." Heat blooms in my chest at his approving tone. "The dessert display will be spectacular - individual chocolate soufflés, crème brûlée, fresh berries."

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