by Kenya Wright
An odd look passed over his face for a moment before he shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “Trust me, Ivy. You are the sweetest sin my tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting.”
I kept my mouth closed and my view in front of me. Meanwhile, warmth spread across my skin.
His voice was a low groan. “As always, I’ve missed you.”
I couldn’t help but lean in to the emotions that his words and his look evoked.
“Ivy?”
“I missed you too.” I glanced out of my window.
A wicked laugh left him. “I can’t wait to unwrap you this Christmas.”
I stirred in my seat.
Damn you, Holly.
“But this year, there will be stipulations before we fuck. Not many. Just one.”
I widened my eyes but didn’t respond.
Park ended her call and let out a long breath. “So sorry.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, needing something to do. “That’s fine.”
“So. . .you’re Chef Saint?” Excitement filled Park’s voice.
Saint smirked. “The one and only.”
“I love your show and your dog, Angel is so cute. Oh, and I love your cooking. I mean you have the best food. I always feel like I’ve gained weight after watching your episodes back to back.”
“Imagine having to eat it all the time. That’s why I religiously stay in the gym. With this job, it’s a battle.”
“Was it easier to maintain your weight when you just had your restaurant?” Park asked.
“Yes. I was always on my feet and managing my staff. There wasn’t much time to snack and eat like there is for the shows.”
Park and Saint continued to talk. I did my best to not think about all the other Christmases where I’d found myself in Saint’s bed, legs spread open, and his chiseled face feasting between them.
What stipulations will there be this time?
Chapter 4
This Christmas
Smiling, I looked out the window and took in Lapland’s snowy landscape.
You’re really going to get your ice princess wedding, Holly.
Holly chose the SnowCastle as the location for her wedding. It was supposed to be a winter-loving princess's fairy-tale venue. The three-story structure was rebuilt every year with ice and snow. Considered the biggest snow fort in the world, the highest towers rose over 20 meters high, and some of the longest walls were over 1,000 meters long. It included a chapel, a restaurant, and a hotel. The SnowRestaurant had ice tables with ice sculptures and seats covered with reindeer fur. The SnowChapel boasted 100 seats.
This will be quite the experience. I just hope it won’t be a freezing one.
After twenty minutes, we arrived at our destination. I made out the massive SnowCastle. My heart seized at how enormous it was.
Damn. Who could think up something like this? So creative.
Saint slowed the car to a stop at the top of the road. Across the way, two huge wrought iron gates stood closed, bracketed by two elegant walls that were carved from some kind of pale stone. The wrought iron climbed up and over the opening, meeting in the center where a large sign said, Seaside Glass Villas.
The gates opened on their own. Saint drove us through and then parked the car right in front of the villas. I left the vehicle and gaped at them. They were small, log cabins. Each one had two large glass walls.
Climbing out, Saint spoke at my side. “Really, Ivy?”
I looked at him. “What?”
“I’m supposed to open the door for you.”
I grinned. “Sorry, sir.”
He went to the back door and opened it. “At least I have one proper lady in the car.”
“Why, thank you!” Park batted her lashes.
I snorted and headed to the trunk.
Saint watched me. “You think you’re going to carry your bags too?”
“I wouldn’t think of it.” I stepped back. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Who else would?”
“Holly.”
“I know you asked her to.” He opened the trunk. “But then you should know that I wouldn’t allow it.”
Smirking, Park glanced from Saint to me.
He took our bags out of the trunk. I shut it for him.
He guided us forward. “You’ll love the villas. I didn’t think I would be impressed with a view of a frozen sea, but I was happily surprised.”
“Just the walls are glass?” Park asked.
“There are glass ceilings too.” Saint continued forward. “You get an excellent view of the Northern Lights.”
I raised my eyebrows. “When did you arrive?”
“Last night.”
“What sea is it?” Park asked.
“It’s overlooking the Gulf of Bothnia, the northernmost waterway of the Baltic Sea.” He stopped us in front of a villa. A black number nine was on the door. He walked up the steps, placed the green bag in front of the door, stuck his hands in his pocket, and pulled out keys. “This is yours, Park.”
“Oh. I love it.” She went up the steps and took the keys.
“Do you need help with taking the bag inside?”
“No. I’ll be just fine.”
“Enjoy your short stay. Also, let me know when you need me to take you to the airport. I’ll be happy to do so.”
“I will.”
Continuing to hold my bags, he returned to me. “And now your room.”
“You have my keys.” I held my hand out.
“I do.” Without giving them to me, he walked off.
Alrighty.
Grinning, I trailed behind him. When we made it to villa number twelve, he went up the stairs, pulled out the keys, and opened the door. Right when I thought he was going to hand me the keys, he carried the bags inside.
I followed him in. “Thank you, but I can carry my bags—”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
He set my bags down and then shut the door. “You have no idea what we should be talking about?”
“I feel like we’ve gone over this throughout the years and the key consensus was that we don’t work well together.”
His eyes narrowed. “We’ve never tried.”
“When I was willing albeit a little bit, you walked away.”
He frowned. “Is that what happened?”
“Well. . .maybe I deserved it a little. . .”
He sighed. “We were young and didn’t know how to navigate love then. Now. . .”
I laughed. “Now you think I would be better at love?”
He stepped in front of me and closed the distance between us. I edged away. He continued forward. The wall stopped me from going further back. He remained barely an inch from me. This close it was hard to not react to him. That mesmerizing face melted my insides.
Sometime between the airport and drive, a few strands of his hair slipped down his forehead. My hand yearned to not only move the strands away but run my fingers through his silky hair.
His expression shifted to an angry one. “How long are we going to do this, Ivy? How many years?”
I swallowed.
“I get to fuck you during Christmas. Sometimes, if I can catch you during the year, I’ll get another taste. Other than that, you avoid me.”
“We text and email all the time.”
“You don’t answer my phone calls.” He leaned his head to the side. “Why not?”
I looked away.
“Ivy, you know I won’t leave until we talk.”
I turned my gaze to him. “I don’t like to talk to you on the phone because when I hear your voice, every cell in my body misses you.”
“And you don’t want to miss me?”
“No.” I tried to walk away.
He brought me back to the wall. “I think about you every second of the day.” He took my hand and placed it on his chest. “Even though it hurts to do so.”
I smoothed my hand along his chest. His cashme
re sweater softened against my skin. As his chest rose and fell from his gentle breathing, his muscles expanded along my fingers.
Saint broke the silence. “Holly said you have a new therapist.”
“Holly talks too much to you about me.”
He smirked. “She tells you things about me all the time.”
“That’s different.”
“How is the new therapist?”
“Are you wondering if I’m still batshit crazy and unable to commit, then yes. She hasn’t fixed me yet.”
“You don’t need to be fixed, Ivy. You just need to take a risk with me. As your grandmother would say, ‘Step out on faith.’”
“I hate that she told you that. You say it all the damn time.”
“She was an amazing woman.”
I closed my eyes.
“If not for her, I would have never found a passion for cooking. If not for her, I might have been in jail.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I was turning into a problem child. She saved me.”
Opening my eyes, I moved my hand. “I don’t want to talk about any of this. I’ve had a long flight.”
“Then answer this.”
“What?”
“Will this be a typical Christmas where we fuck each other until exhaustion and then move on with our lives?”
“We’re not having sex, Saint. It’s time to stop it.”
“You say that every year. It’s bullshit. We are going to fuck, but I’m not done with the question.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go ahead.”
“Will we only fuck each other to oblivion or. . .” He gave me a sad look. “Will we finally try to have a real relationship?”
“You’re in Paris. I’m in New York.”
“Bullshit. If you gave me a chance, I’ll be in New York at the beginning of the New Year. I’ve already discussed this with the Network. They’ll move anywhere I go.”
Terror seized my chest. I hated that reaction whenever he talked like this. It should have been welcoming. Lord knows Saint was an amazing man.
“Saint. . .I. . .”
“Don’t say it, Ivy.”
“I’m fucked up. At some point, you’ll have to move on. And I know it will be hard for both of us, but you’ll be happier.”
He closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I moved around him and walked over to the bed.
Suddenly feeling cold, I folded my arms over my chest. Hundreds of competing questions spun around in my head.
“Hmmm.” Saint walked over to me, filling the space with his seductive voice. “I have faith in us. This Christmas will be different.”
Nervousness rose within me. “Excuse me?”
“This Christmas will be different.”
“How?”
He was right back in front of me, towering and giving me no space. “It’s a magical moment in an enchanted setting.”
“You think the wedding and a snowy Finland village will change my mind?”
“It will. If not, I will.”
I looked away.
He tenderly touched my chin. Ribbons of desire unfolded within me. He moved my view back to him. “All my life I’ve been in love with you. And all your life you’ve been in love with me. It doesn’t matter how many lovers you attempt to take on to try to forget what we have. You will never forget, and we will never be done.”
I parted my lips to speak. There were so many things in my head that I wanted to say, but terror held on to those words and trapped them in my heart.
“You’ve had a rough childhood. You lost the ones that you loved.” He slipped his thumb up to my bottom lip and trailed the outline of it. “But you won’t lose me, no matter how much you try to avoid me.”
“I want you in my life, Saint, just not the way you need me to be.”
“That’s bullshit.”
I let out a long breath.
“I’ll answer for you.”
“How?”
“This Christmas won’t be a typical situation. We’re not fucking unless you’re ready for more.”
“What?”
“That’s the stipulation. I’m not tasting your pussy unless you’re ready to deal with your true feelings.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“You’re holding us back. I’m pushing us forward.”
That thing with my body happened. It always did around Saint. Only he could trigger it. Heat spread along my skin. Need rushed through me. It was an unsurmountable ache deep inside of my body. An unbearable want. It made me feel like a weak fool. My breathing shifted to shortened pants.
“Look at me, Ivy.”
I lifted my gaze to meet his. How I wished I could just let go, release all my fears, and give my heart to him. If anybody deserved it, it was him. But the truth of the matter was that he actually deserved even better.
The hard line of his shoulders relaxed. He tugged me closer and placed a kiss on my forehead. “You’ll see.”
I stood still, scared to move away. If I did, he might not touch me anymore. I had to admit that I’d been yearning for his caress. I wanted it well before I’d seen him in the airport. All year I’d thought about him.
He leaned forward and left a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You’ll change your mind.”
I didn’t shake my head. I didn’t want to lose the connection.
A soft smile spread across his face. “I missed you.”
My voice grew hoarse. “I. . .missed you too.”
Silence thickened between us. Our unspoken conversation began. One that I was used to. The sentences that we could never say out loud.
And did you have any lovers this year? Are you still all mine, even though I don’t deserve it?
Leaning forward more, he inhaled me. Right as I thought he would kiss me, he didn’t. Instead, he pulled me to him and smoothed my body against his. We stayed like that for several seconds, and then he whispered, “What are your plans for tonight?”
“I’m giving Holly a surprise bachelorette party.”
“She’ll love that. Will there be a stripper?”
“It’s me planning the party. What do you think?”
“Then there will be several strippers.” He looked back and frowned. “If I find out a stripper is in your room tonight, then I’ll throw him out your villa’s beautiful glass windows.”
“That’s not nice.”
“Be safe and don’t get Holly too drunk.”
“Never. She thinks she’s Bruce Lee Holly when she’s super drunk.”
“This Christmas will be different.” He pulled me back to him and squeezed my body in those huge arms. When he finally moved away, he kissed me on my forehead again and left without saying goodbye.
Fuck.
I stared at the door and released the breath that I didn’t know I was holding. The ache continued to rise.
Don’t think about it. Just. . .don’t.
To get that moment out of my head, I spent the next hour making myself busy with unpacking.
The private villa was beautiful. It was definitely a spectacular alternative to the regular hotel. I gazed up at the glass ceiling, drinking in the pale blue sky. After that, I walked over to the curtains and opened them. The two glass walls showed me this massive expanse of the frozen sea. It was endless glittering ice—magical and tranquil to behold.
The villa was also atmospherically designed and decorated, with full comfort in mind. While the place appeared small on the outside, it was quite spacious on the inside. The largest window stood beside the king bed. Not only was there a bedroom, but a kitchenette, separate dressing room, private sauna, and bathroom adorned with gold fixtures.
This Christmas? Stipulations? I can’t think about all of that.
I opened the suitcase full of all the bachelorette items.
Holly is going to love this night. She’ll always remember it.
While Saint was an ogre of a man—gorgeous and big—his twin sister was a tiny woman. His
father joked that Saint took up most of the womb, barely letting his sister get any room to grow. Holly was five feet with a slim frame. Her long blonde hair fell to her elbows. Her blue eyes sparkled just like Saint’s but were welcoming and warm, where his was intense and piercing. She used to complain that she’d wanted to be Barbie, but ended up being Skipper instead.
Now this week is all about you, Miss Skipper.
I group text all the other women in the wedding party.
Me: I’ve arrived. I’m in room 12.
Veronica: Yay! I’m checked in. I’ll be on the way. I’ve got the dildo crown.
Anna: I’ve been here since last night. I’m in villa 14. I’ll be there in five.
Emma: I’m experiencing jetlag, but I’ll be ready.
I shook my head. Emma would be a drama queen as usual, but I would deal with it for Holly. I typed in a reply to the group.
Me: The door will be open. Just come in. Once you all are here, I’ll have Holly show up.
My phone rang.
“That better not be you, Holly.” Grinning, I checked who was calling.
My father’s number glowed on the screen.
Bastard.
I dropped the phone on the bed and backed up. “Leave me alone. Goddamn it.”
I checked behind me as if he were about to enter the room. No one was there. I sighed and returned to my suitcase.
I won’t let Dad or dreams with Mom ruin this week.
Chapter 5
Rocking Around the Christmas Tree
Holly’s first cousins—Anna and Emma showed up. They were sisters and both redheads. When they were young, they were impossible to tell apart. Anytime they came to Holly’s house as kids, I would play with them in the back yard. They had a love for charades. So competitive that if Holly and I beat them at the game, they would whine and bitch until our parents stepped in. For some reason, Anna had my name down, yet Emma always messed it up.
Now in adulthood, it was easy to figure out who was who. Emma was short with thin legs, big breasts, and sad eyes. Meanwhile, her sister, Anna was the opposite—long legs, big hips, and always wearing a bright, excited expression. While Anna kept her red hair, Emma dyed hers black. Holly joked that Emma made it black to match her soul. And even crazier, Emma still couldn’t get my name right. I’d learned to live with it, glad that I didn’t see her much anyway.