Page 24 of Unwrapped

Wandering through the market with Ivy by my side after our skating adventure, I keep my steps slow, savoring the moment. The festive buzz is fading as we near the last few rows of stalls, the snow falling like a perfect white veil over everything. She’s right there, so close that her warmth radiates through the cold air. I don’t even feel the chill nipping at my skin. Honestly, nothing feels cold when Ivy’s next to me.

We reach the end of the market, where evergreen trees wrapped in twinkling lights frame a picture-perfect scene. But it’s not the trees that catch my eye. It’s the mistletoe swaying between two of them, almost like it’s begging for attention. I can’t help the slow grin spreading across my face.

“Well, look at that,” I murmur, my voice low and playful as I nod toward the mistletoe. “Seems like we’ve found ourselves in a bit of a situation.”

Ivy’s gaze follows mine, and when she spots the mistletoe, her laugh comes out nervous, but cute as hell. “It’s just a silly tradition,” she says, trying to play it cool, but I don’t miss the flicker of excitement in her eyes. Her pulse is practically racing, and I can feel the tension in the air between us.

God, I love this. The tension, the anticipation, the delicious temptation of leaning forward and pulling her into my arms as my tongue explores her mouth.

“Is it?” I take a step closer, letting the snow crunch under my boots as the space between us shrinks. Her breath is warm against the winter chill, and I can’t stop looking at her lips. So close, but not quite touching. “Or maybe,” I add, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver through her, “it’s an opportunity.”

She swallows, and I catch the sound in the quiet night, the way her breath hitches just a little. That’s when I know I have her attention. Her eyes dart to mine, and there’s a challenge there, a spark that makes my heart pound harder.

“Asher…” Her voice wavers, but I hear the unspoken question in it. I step in even closer, until the heat between us makes the world around us blur. The snow, the market, everything just fades away.

“What?” I ask, my tone soft, teasing, but there’s a flicker of seriousness beneath it. “Too much of a cliché for you? We could just walk away, pretend we didn’t see it.”

I’m daring her now, testing her boundaries, and I feel a moment of uncertainty myself. Ivy Calloway, the woman who seems to have everything together—what if I’m reading this wrong? But the way she looks at me, the way her lips part ever so slightly, tells me I’m right where I need to be.

“It’s not that,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, “it’s just…”

I lean in, just enough that our noses brush, that electricity sparking between us. “What are you afraid of, Ivy?” My voice is low, coaxing. I want her to say it. To admit what we’re both feeling.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, I feel the weight of the world holding its breath. It’s just her and me, standing beneaththe mistletoe, caught in something we both know isn’t just about a silly holiday tradition.

“I’m afraid that if I kiss you,” she says, her voice soft but full of honesty, “I won’t want it to be just a silly tradition.”

Her words slam into me, and for a second, I freeze. Did she really just say that? I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. A slow, genuine grin that has nothing to do with teasing. I reach up, brushing a snowflake from her hair, my fingers lingering a little longer than necessary.

“Maybe I don’t want it to be just a tradition either,” I reply, my voice barely louder than a whisper, as if I’m afraid to break the spell between us. “Maybe I’m hoping it’s the start of something.”

There’s a shift in her, a softening that pulls me in even further. She looks up at me, and I can see the decision flickering in her eyes. Her hand moves up to touch my face, her glove brushing against my stubble, and it’s like every nerve in my body is suddenly on high alert.

Time slows, the space between us humming with tension and unspoken words. And then she rises up on her toes, and before I can even think, her lips are on mine. Soft, tentative, like she’s asking a question I’ve been dying to answer.

For a heartbeat, I’m frozen. Not because I don’t want this—God, I’ve wanted this for so long—but because it feels too perfect. But then instinct kicks in, and I pull her closer, my hand slipping behind her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair as I kiss her back.

Really fucking kiss her.

My lips move against hers, slowly, gently for a few seconds before passion takes over. I slide my tongue between them, a soft moan slipping from her lips into my mouth. My cock stiffens against her, her body melting against me as I deepen the kiss, both of us completely lost in each other.

The world disappears. There’s no snow, no market, no people milling around. Just Ivy, her lips warm against mine, her body pressed close as if she’s been waiting for this as long as I have. The kiss deepens, and I feel her relax into me, a soft sound escaping her lips that makes my pulse race even harder.

I can’t stop the smile that forms as I pull her even closer, the warmth of her mouth a perfect contrast to the cold around us. When we finally break apart, both of us breathless, our foreheads resting together, I take a moment to just enjoy it. Snowflakes are melting against our skin, but I don’t care. All I can think about is the way she kissed me like she meant it, like she wanted more just like me.

“Fuck,” I murmur, my voice rougher than I expect. “That was…” I lean in again, taking another minute to enjoy her lips again. “Sorry,” I whisper when I pull back, “I need to stop.”

She laughs softly, the sound reminding me that we’re still in public and despite what I want, I can’t take things further.

“I didn’t ask you to stop.”

I reach out, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip, feeling the way she shivers under my touch. “Mmm, don’t say that…” The tension ratchets back up, both of us leaning in again, our bodies doing all the talking.

When I pull back from her this time, I put physical distance between us, stepping back and sucking in a deep breath, groaning when I let it out. I reach down, attempting to adjust my rigid cock that’s begging for even a second of relief.

“Goddamn.” I laugh, Ivy’s eyes dropping down to the evidence, her cheeks flushing again. “You really know how to test a man’s limits.”

“I’m sure you’ve suffered worse,” she teases, her hands reaching out to rest softly against my chest as she looks up at me.

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