Page 13 of Curvy Girl for Santa

I stride through the lobby, my footsteps echoing on the polished marble. The revolving door spins, and a gust of frigid air hits me like a slap. I inhale deeply, savoring the bite of winter. It clears my head, washing away the stifling atmosphere of the boardroom.

My heart pounds, each beat screaming Anastasia's name. I'm a man possessed, consumed by the need to see her, to touch her lush curves, to lose myself in her warmth.

The sleek black car idles at the curb. I slide into the backseat, my voice husky as I order, "Back to the community center."

As we pull away from the curb, I close my eyes, allowing myself to indulge in the fantasy of Anastasia. Her melodious laugh echoes in my mind, sending shivers down my spine. I imagine running my fingers through her silky auburn hair, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"Fuck," I growl, adjusting myself in my seat. This woman has me wound tighter than any multi-billion dollar deal ever could.

I picture her green eyes, sparkling with mischief as she teases me. Her full lips, curved in that irresistible smile. The way her sweaters hug her delicious curves, leaving me aching to explore every inch of her.

My fists clench at my sides. Soon, I promise myself. Soon I'll confess everything, consequences be damned. Because a life without Anastasia isn't a life worth living.

The car slows as we approach the center, and I start to breathe again. I’ll see her soon, and then I can calm.

I step out, the crisp air shocking my senses. My gaze locks onto the building, knowing she's inside. My body thrums with need, every cell screaming her name.

"Ryan!" Anastasia's voice rings out, pure sunshine in this winter landscape.

I turn, drinking her in. She's bundled up in a emerald sweater that makes her eyes pop, snowflakes caught in her hair like a crown.

"Where'd you disappear to?" she asks, brow furrowed with concern.

I stride toward her, fighting the urge to crush her to me. "Just had to make a quick call," I lie smoothly, hating myself for it. "Couldn't stay away for long, though. Not when you're here."

Her cheeks flush, and I want to taste that blush. "Flatterer," she teases, but I see the heat in her gaze.

I take her hand, relishing its softness. "How about we grab some hot chocolate?"

As we walk, her curves brush against me. It takes every ounce of control not to pin her against the nearest wall and claim her lips.

Soon, I vow silently. Soon, I'll tell her everything. But for now, I'll savor this moment, this slice of heaven with my curvy angel.

seven

?. . .?

Anastasia

I grab Ryan's hand,pulling him into the department store. We’re shopping for gifts for all the kids, and it couldn’t be any more natural.

He holds my hand and periodically places a protective palm against the small of my back when we pass by other men. I even catch him glaring at those of them whose gazes linger too long, and maybe I should be offended by his possessiveness, but I’m not.

I love it.

“You know, I had an idea,” Ryan suddenly says.

I look up at him.

“What’s Santa without his helper help?” he says with a raised eyebrow as his gaze rakes over me and then to the racks of holiday attire.

I laugh as he grabs my hand and leads me over to the holiday outfits. My heart races as Ryan's fingers brush my lower back. The heat of his touch sears through my sweater.

"Let's try this one," he murmurs as he grabs a sexy elf costume from the rack. Our eyes lock as he takes it, electricity crackling between us.

He hands me the outfit. “Why don’t you try it on for me?”

I bite my lip and blush at the suggestive look in his eyes.

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