14. Ivy
14
IVY
T he Christmas lights were so pretty, but nothing compared to the centerpieces I had selected for James's Christmas Eve celebration only nine days away now. I loved the way crystalized sugar made the pinecones appear as if snow clung to the woody scales. And the frosted-glass candle holders would finish the look of elegance. I knew James's guests would be impressed.
I also knew how much pressure I was under to make sure everything was perfect, and the pressure just kept getting worse as days passed. Not only did I have to pull off these final few events and plan the event of a lifetime on Valentine's Day, but I had to come up with a company name, a business plan, and juggle the stress of apartment hunting. And on top of all of that, I was sort of freaking out.
My period was late—two days, to be exact. I took two pregnancy tests already, but neither of them were positive, so I should've just been able to relax and put it behind me, but my period was never late. Even when I was horribly stressed, I was regular like clockwork. It wasn’t a good sign for me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was about to change.
"The lights look beautiful," I heard, and I knew the rumble of James's baritone voice before I even turned to look at him. I stood in my messy workspace cluttered with all the decorations from the past few parties on one side and things I was putting together for his future events on the other. I was a bit embarrassed at how disorganized it looked, but I had a system. I knew where everything I needed was.
"Thank you," I said, turning slowly to face him. "I've been working nonstop." I bit my lip, hoping he approved of everything, not just the lights. I knew it was very different from what his former wife did. His staff didn't let me forget it. She used traditional things like snowmen and gingerbread men, and every color in the rainbow. I chose plain white lights, plaids and creams, and my favorite part was the abundance of reindeer, stashed here and there, indoors and out. It was classy, like James.
"I can tell," he said, looking around. "You've been a busy little elf." He grinned and walked over to me and looked down at my first finished centerpiece and smiled at it. "This is nice too."
"I'll have twelve tables, each with a centerpiece like this. I think they'll look nice," I told him, and I picked up a length of red ribbon I intended to turn into a bow to fashion around the candle, but it slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I almost bent to retrieve it, but James got to it first. I remembered that day in the florist shop where something similar had happened and thought better of it. I didn't need a concussion to add to my stress.
But the moment did remind me of that almost kiss we shared. I wished I remembered more from that night in his limo the way I had let that moment at the florist imprint on my mind. My body flushed as I remembered the few things that were stored in my memory, namely how his lips and stubble felt on my chest.
"Looks like you dropped this," he said as he handed me the ribbon. I took it from his hand and smiled shyly.
I'd been caught red-handed daydreaming about him, and while I should've been obsessing about whether or not I was pregnant, I found myself being drawn to him again. Only this time, I was sober.
"You know, we never did talk about…" I couldn’t finish. How would I ever bring up the thought that I could be pregnant? I knew nothing for certain, but there was a chance. And it rattled me. James should know too.
"What do you feel like you should say to me?" he asked, but it wasn't dismissive. I could tell he actually wanted to know what I was thinking, and suddenly, the only thing I was thinking of was kissing him again. I shouldn't have been thinking that at all, ever, because he was my boss, a client, an investor, almost twice my age, and just a bad idea all around. But I enjoyed his presence.
James was a sweet, caring man. He was thoughtful and generous. We got along and had things in common. And no one had ever made me feel so supported or encouraged.
"I… Uh, I don't know." The truth slipped out of my mouth and I shrugged. We should talk about the fact that we had sex, but we moved on like nothing happened. Maybe because he thought I didn't remember. Or maybe because he felt like it was a mistake or he was ashamed of it?
"I think we both know we enjoyed it…" He stepped closer, and I smelled his cologne. It was intoxicating.
"Well, yes, but…" I felt flustered with him so close to me.
"And what's done is done. No changing that." His hand rested on the table in front of us and moved closer to mine, and I felt the air charge with chemistry.
"James," I breathed, and I felt myself getting worked up. An ache started low in my groin. I knew he hadn't come in here to flirt with me. He came to check on my work, but I wanted him. I wanted to feel what he made me feel that night in his limo—the feelings I couldn’t quite remember. The ones that visited me in my dreams.
"Ms. Hart," he said, as if waiting for me to say or do something. My breathing was thready and shallow. My heart was pounding.
"I feel…" I fanned myself, but I didn't back away when his hand rose up and cupped my cheek.
"Flustered?" he asked, and I bit my lip and hid a smirk.
His fingers curled around the back of my neck and he pulled me a few inches closer. "Is this alright?" he asked, and I nodded.
"It's okay," I told him.
"Why me?" he whispered, and his eyes searched my face. I couldn't answer him. There was no reason I should be so attracted to him, but I was.
"Why not?" I asked, bobbing one shoulder, and he closed the gap and pressed his lips against mine.
The kiss was scorching, every bit as delicious as I thought it would be. In a sober state, I was able to enjoy every brush of his lips across mine, the way he held me in place with his hand, and the way his tongue slipped across mine. And when he pulled back, leaving me breathless, I felt drunk on endorphins.
"I'm going to need you to do that thing again so I can remember it this time." My eyes were hooded with lust, and he grinned as he leaned in and whispered in my ear.
"Do what thing again?" he whispered, and it made goosebumps rise on my arms.
"Fuck me," I whispered back, and the vixen inside me was unleashed.
He chuckled and bent his head low and kissed me again. This time, it was more urgent, hungrier, and I felt my body responding to him in a way I never thought possible. His hands roamed my curves, gripping my hips and lifting me onto the table. He pressed me against the smooth surface, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
His lips left mine and blazed a trail down my neck, along my collarbone, and to the valley between my breasts. He unbuttoned my shirt, and it pooled around my waist on the table, along with my bra, which he removed. My breasts spilled out, and he cupped one in his warm hands, teasing the nipple with his thumb.
"Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice low and deep in my ear.
"Yes," I gasped, arching my back to him. "More."
He complied, trailing kisses down my stomach, leaving a fiery trail in his wake. His hands were everywhere, skilled and sure, as if he had done this a million times before. But when he looked up at me through his lashes, I knew this was anything but practice for him. His fingers worked the zipper of my slacks and he unbuttoned them, then he stood and undid his own shirt. I sat there leaning back on my hands, watching him.
"You're staring," he said, teasing me with his eyes as he unbuttoned his pants. His chest was bare and it was gorgeous. His muscles were toned, and the trail of hair leading into his waistband tempted me. It made my core ache for what I knew was inside his boxers.
"I like what I see," I purred, and he smirked and stepped forward.
"Well, then, let me show you more." James hooked his fingers into the waistband of my slacks and panties and pulled, and I lifted myself slightly so he could pull them down and off.
I sat on the table in front of him as he pulled his dick out of his fly and stroked it. His eyes scanned up and down my body, but my eyes were on his cock. I was right. He was thick. It was the reason my pussy ached for a full day after fucking him the first time.
“Wow,” I mumbled, and before I lost myself entirely, I looked him in the eye. “Condom.” I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“I came prepared,” he said, smirking, and I smiled.
“Then, what are we waiting for?” I asked, spreading my legs wider for him.
“Patience,” he purred.
James stepped forward and rested his hands on my thighs as he leaned down to kiss me again. I reached for his dick and gripped him, stroking lightly as I imagined how this thick tool would feel inside me. I clenched around nothing, already whimpering for penetration.
But James had other plans. He kissed my neck, then down my chest, then lower still to my aching core. His tongue lapped at the sensitive bud between my legs, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I bucked against him, moaning his name as his tongue flicked over my clit.
"Oh, God," I panted, gripping the table for support as he worked his magic on me. "Oh, God, yes," I moaned, and he chuckled against my wet folds.
"You like that?" he asked, and I whimpered in response.
"Yes," I gasped out. "More."
He obliged me, sucking on my clit while his fingers delved inside me, stretching me out for him. My body shuddered, and the orgasm built inside me.
"Shit," I swore. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he mumbled against my skin, and I felt him chuckle as he lapped at me. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I was a mass of goo in his hands.
"James," I moaned, "I'm gonna?—"
He lightly bit down on my swollen nub, and I came apart in his mouth, grunting his name as my pussy clenched around his magical fingers. I convulsed and twitched, and he mercilessly finger fucked me until I was jolting and whimpering. When my orgasm subsided, he stood and nestled between my thighs.
“Your turn,” he whispered, and I reached out to grip his thick length.
"Condom," I reminded him, panting.
“I got it,” he said, and he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom. He sheathed himself, and then he was back between my legs, ready to fuck me into another orgasm.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked, and I nodded.
"Yes," I breathed. "Oh, God, James," I moaned as he filled me up, stretching me in ways that made my toes curl. He took his time, easing himself into me, then he started to move, slowly at first, then he picked up speed until the room was filled with only our moans.
"Fuck," I swore, and he chuckled again.
"You like that?" he asked, and I bit my lip.
"Don't stop," I moaned, and he didn't.
He pounded into me, ramming his cock so deep inside me I thought I would split in half. His hands gripped my thighs, and he held on as if his life depended on it.
“Touch me. Touch my clit. Do it,” I pleaded, and he moved his hand until he was gripping my hip and his thumb was rubbing my clit.
"Like this?" he asked, and I moaned in response.
"Yes," I gasped. "Don't stop."
The combination of his dick inside me and his thumb on my clit had me coming apart again. This time, it was so much more intense than before. My pussy clenched around him, and I screamed his name as he grunted and came inside the condom.
We were both panting for air when it was over, and he collapsed against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him. For a moment, it didn't feel bad or wrong or even awkward. It felt like two people who were crazy hot for each other who just had incredible sex.
But his phone rang, breaking the trance, and when he pulled out and backed away, I sat there naked on his table in front of him feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and still winded, he held up a finger to me and answered it.
"James Carver…"
I didn't hear what the person on the other end was saying, but I watched his face contort into a scowl.
"I'll be there shortly. Don't do anything."
James hung up and turned back to me, stepping up to kiss me fiercely again. "I have to go. My God, you're beautiful…" He kissed me again and said, "I'm not sure what's happening here, Ms. Hart, but I like this. And if you just happen to turn up in my bed tonight, I won't chase you away." Then he kissed me again and walked toward the door.
He stopped and took the full condom off his dick, then he zipped up and left the room, leaving me breathless and speechless.
Why the hell couldn’t I control myself around him? And what was really happening? Did I even want to know? Was James the new Mike and I just didn't know it yet?