Page 217 of Screwged for Christmas

He moved his hands inside her soft pajama bottoms and clenched his fingers around the bare, delicious globes of her plump ass. She had her chance to get away.

“Mr. Savage?”

Anger mixed with fierce possessiveness of another man seeing the heated Passion in Ivy’s eyes. It belonged to him, and him alone.

Wrapped up in her, he failed to hear the approach of someone from behind them.

A thin speck of control eased his anger down a notch and while holding her gaze, he spoke to one of his wait staff. He turned to shield her from the intruder and their prying eyes.

“Just wanted to let you know the first customer is coming up the sidewalk now.”

Damon nodded at the dishwasher for Savage Fire who doubled as a barista for Big Paws in the mornings.

“Thanks, Mave.”

“Yeah, sorry, man.”

Finally, alone again he turned his attention back to her and cursed under his breath at how far he let things get carried away. How far the need drove him.

He stroked his hands down her arms and slowly stepped away from the counter. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You keep saying that. But you know what? Maybe it’s for the best. Being a razor blade and all, I wouldn’t want to leave you bleeding.” She scooted off the counter and straightened her sweater as she turned on her heel and was out the door before he could stop her.

Damon’s jaw dropped as she tossed his words back at him. He had a sinking feeling he would regret those words for a long time coming and really fucked up big.

God, but she was lovely.

CHAPTER 5

Back in her temporary apartment and her temporary bed, Ivy stuffed the pillow over her face and let out a scream at her very not-so-temporary lust-induced need to orgasm. Right now.

She tugged at her pants and slipped a hand inside. She imagined the pressure against her clit was Damon’s as she swirled the pad of her finger over the pulsing bud.

She gasped, arched into her own touch. Rubbing faster she screamed when her climax barreled through her. She knew it would be fast but the hot, raw release that tore through her left her muscles weak.

She sat up and tossed the pillow aside.

“It was a mistake coming here.”

Every nerve ending in her body still tingled, wanting more. Wanting him.

“Damon.” She rolled the name around and savored the way it played off her tongue. The man was dangerously addictive and not because he could whip up a batch of mean pumpkin chocolate pie-gasms or work the coffee machine like the god of caffeine.

And the combination of his kiss and what he did with his hips made her desperate to find out what he would do when there were no clothes holding him back.

She rubbed her hands over her face and groaned. She had two words for what he was—possessive and claiming. No. Three, she corrected. He was passionate too. Not only about his bar and bakery but about his family. She caressed the pads of her fingers over her lips. The burn he incited on impact.

She shuddered from her head down to her red berry painted toes. Is that what her sister meant by burning desires when her husbands kissed her?

Ivy rolled back on the bed and pressed her legs together, desperate. Pulse after pulse of pent-up aching need throbbed through her clit. She’d never experienced something so consuming, so fast to burn like she did with Damon. The one, lonely orgasm she’d self-induced wouldn’t hold her off long.

She needed a cold shower. Pronto.

She bounced from the messy bed and crossed the small apartment to collect her suitcases where she’d left them the night before by the couch. Dawn worked its magic beyond the large windows and peeked around the fringes of the heavy red curtains that matched the comforter on the bed.

Ivy pulled them open to reveal a wintry wonderland of pure white.

She took a moment to appreciate the view before making her way through the apartment to flick on several lamps to chase away a few of the shadows that remained.

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