Page 21 of The Christmas Gift

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The first hourof work passed in a daze. She didn’t remember leaving the apartment complex, much less how Cor managed to talk her into driving her to work—not that she could drive herself with her car still parked at the office. The man was incorrigible.

By the time the meeting with the designer started, Ivy found herself sitting beside Cor. He’d even dragged her chair closer before the room filled with employees. Cor took every opportunity to distract her with naughty innuendos when everyone was focused on the designer.

Every inch of her skin prickled with need each time he whispered in her ear. He would tap the folder on the desk in front of them to give the illusion they were talking about business. When in truth, his words were of Ivy on her hands and knees, clawing on their new sheets as she begged to be fuck deeper.

Ivy slammed her eyes shut as her thighs involuntarily clenched.

It took a full minute after he reclined in his chair for her to tamp down on her lust. His face gave nothing away, but he wasn’t fooling her. His stiff shoulders and clenched jaw said he was as affected.

Clearing her throat, Ivy discreetly shoved his hand from her lap, then looked up to find Krista’s quizzical glare on her. The woman was infatuated with Cor and there was no way Ivy was going to jeopardize Eros sales before the product hit the shelves. Working with many companies over the years, she’d seen her share of soured relationships costing a company money.

To his credit, she noted Cor didn’t flirt back with Krista.But was that because she was here?If she wasn’t around then what would he do?

The designer commanded the room’s attention, giving her a reprieve from Cor’s teasing. They didn’t have to wait long for the first model to enter.

The designer had done a fabulous job. The models ranged in sizes and diversity, fully capturing the segment of the market Garland Inc. was trying to enter.

Two sets of the more scandalous pieces were paired with high boots and floggers for the most adventurous of their clients. Tiny red and black bows decorated one two-piece set and red and white candy canes on the other. Garters and straps finished off the sets.

First, she thought they were too on the nose with the holiday theme, but after seeing the pieces on black and brown models, she changed her mind. The bright splashes of color made the outfits pop. They were excellent for the window.

“Of course,” the designer said, “We’ll have the same designs in tamer shades.”

“What do you think?” Cor asked.

“Do you mind if I ask your designer a question?” Ivy asked, not wanting to step on any toes. Designers were known to be defensive of their creations and she didn’t know if the slim French man currently praising his models fell into that category. Her job wasn’t to design, but to sell.

“Yannick,” Cor called to the designer, “Ivy, our marketing consultant has questions.”

Ivy cleared her throat, aware she’d gained more than the designer’s attention. Ivy shrugged, she’d never lost skin from asking questions. “Are you designing assorted shades of shear and nudes tones to cater to the varied complexions?” Ivy pointed towards the models.

Yannick smiled. “Yes. I have fabric still coming in, but we’ll make the deadline.” He showed the models from the room.

“How was that?” Cor asked as she emailed her team.

“It’s a fantastic line, Cor.” At first she was afraid the designer wouldn’t fully cater to curvy women or use shades that complimented the multitude of black and brown skin tones, but she was pleasantly surprised.

Across the room, Arthur walked the two merchandising managers from the meeting. Ivy pretended not to notice Krista’s attempt to get Cor’s attention as she left the room.

“They’re leaving,” she nodded to the three retreating bodies.

Cor followed her gaze. “They’ll be back the first week of December to review the numbers.” He said, “As long as the line continues to sell, it earns permanent floor space in their stores.” Standing, he offered a hand. “It’s time for lunch.”

“Shouldn’t you be joining them?”

“My father can handle Jayce and Krista.”

When Ivy followed Cor to lunch, she had no idea it would be a pattern for their next two weeks.

Their days started with him bringing her a different holiday latte or herbal tea. Although he hadn’t taken her to his place again, he spent each day teasing and flirting with her until he was all she dreamt of at night. Knowing he slept two floors above didn’t help the throbbing ache between her legs. Or the heaviness in her breasts when she imagined her nipples being teased into firm beads.

Without a doubt, Ivy knew he intended to make her beg for his touch. Intoxicate her with dewy kisses until her knees weakened. It was working too. She was drunk and her only cure was Cor sinking into her drenched pussy.

Her need for him was scary. Never had she allowed herself to care too deeply for any man. Ivy had been sure he’d realized fatherhood wasn’t what he wanted. The longer he persisted, though, the faster she was falling for him. The father of her child—she bit into her lip to stop a strangled moan from escaping as she recalled how she’d gotten pregnant.

Not caring about the man was impossible. He’d surprised her, gotten under the layers she’d built to keep others out.

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