In Bounds Read online

  Shifting to release the strain of his growing arousal, he tried to think of something else. Anything else. He quickly sorted through his email and dealt with any urgent issues then texted Charlotte to let her know that Ivy would be getting medical attention tomorrow—whether she wanted it or not—and they’d likely have company for supper.

  The creaking of hinges lifted his gaze from his phone, and he saw Ivy peering around the corner.

  “Do you need something?” he asked as he started to push himself up from the couch, but she waved him back.

  “No.” She pulled the lightweight blanket more snugly about her shoulders. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

  There was something about her that made him think it was more than not being able to sleep. She had something on her mind.

  “How’s the pain?”

  She shrugged. “Same as it has been. No worse.”

  He shifted on the couch to face her. “Are you feeling woozy, at all?”

  “Not really,” she said, settling into the armchair that matched the couch. Drawing up her knees, she tucked the blanket in around her.

  “You want to talk about what’s keeping you awake?”

  Her brow furrowed slightly. “I’m sure it’s that I just don’t normally go to bed this early.”

  “That could be it,” he agreed.

  The furrow deepened. “You don’t think it is.”

  “I think that it’s possible that it’s too early for you to fall asleep, but I also know that a head injury typically encourages sleep, so I’m guessing there’s something else going on. Something you’re turning over and over in your mind. Something that’s preventing you from dozing off.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him.

  “Out with it. What is it you can’t stop thinking about?”

  He studied her. Even with the bruise, she was beautiful. Maybe not in the conventional sense, but there was something about her. It was more than her lush curves—curves he wanted to fill his hands with. And more than her tightly wound schoolmarm demeanor and what he suspected she kept locked away beneath.

  He mentally shook his head at himself. Just because she wasn’t all over him didn’t mean she kept her passion tightly controlled. It could just mean she wasn’t interested in him. Yeah, he got a lot of attention from women, but he was honest enough with himself to admit that a lot of that attention came from women who were interested in his success as opposed to interested in him. It was entirely possible that Ivy wasn’t interested in either. Except, he’d seen how she’d reacted to him earlier. There was something there.

  He wanted to tangle his fingers in her dark, silky, pillow-tousled hair. He wanted to watch those pale eyes turn stormy the way he remembered them. Her cheeks were currently flushing pink as she looked anywhere but at him.

  “Sorry, love,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to stare. I was just lost in thought.”

  Her lips curved upward. “Looked pretty intense.”

  He met her gaze. “I’ll tell you what I was thinking about if you tell me what’s got you tossing and turning.”

  She sighed. Leaning her head back in the chair, she stared up at the exposed beams in the ceiling. “Fine. It’s driving me nuts that you can apparently remember so much more from...that night...than I can.”

  Excitement coiled in the pit of his stomach. “And you want me to tell you everything I can remember?”

  She sighed again. “Not really. But I feel like it’s going to make me crazy unless you do.”

  “This should help, then. I have an excellent memory.”

  She muttered something under her breath, but he couldn’t quite catch it.

  “What was that?”

  She frowned. “Nothing. Go on. Fill in the blanks.”

  The temptation to crack a questionable joke was strong, but he managed to refrain.

  “There was champagne in the limo on the way to the reception. And you drank the redhead’s glass because she didn’t like it. Sound familiar?”

  Ivy nodded.

  “I didn’t see much of you until after supper and I went looking for you when it was time for the bridal party to dance, and some girl asked you where Jason—no...Justin was. And you said, ‘Fuck Justin’, took her drink and tossed it back as the DJ was calling our names.”

  “Awesome.”

  “While we were dancing, you asked me if I was married.”

  She snorted, and Will grinned.

  “That was pretty much my reaction, too.”

  She closed her eyes as her cheeks flushed brightly. “I told you not to propose to a girl if you didn’t mean it—if you were just doing it because it was expected, then you were an asshole.” Opening her eyes, she met his gaze.

  “Is that what Justin did to you?” he asked.

  She nodded. “The night before the wedding, he broke off the engagement and told me he’d only proposed because it seemed like getting married was what was supposed to happen next.”

  “Wanker,” he muttered.

  She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “Better than marrying him and finding out the hard way, I suppose.”

  She swallowed thickly, and he wondered if she was thinking about her more recent breakup or if she was still hung up on Justin the wanker.

  “After that, you hit bar again.”

  She sighed. “And probably several more times after that.”

  He nodded sympathetically. “I’m guessing.”

  “Then what happened? How did we end up in the closet?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “One of the other girls asked if I’d seen you. Something about Charlotte needing something from your room. It was shortly after that I saw you come out of the bathroom with your skirt cut off and you told me that butterscotch chips can’t dance with all that skirt.”

  She shook her head and immediately flinched. “Though, to be fair, that does sound like something I’d say.”

  He grinned. She’d been so adorably plastered. “Then, the girl who wanted your room key wandered back, grabbed your purse and told me to hide you because Charlotte was headed that way and would lose her shit if she saw your dress. So, I dragged you into the broom closet in the hallway. Does that sound familiar, at all?”

  Ivy stared somewhere over his right shoulder, her lips pursed. “I remember trying to get out the door because I heard a song I liked, and I wanted to dance. And you told me I needed to stay in there for a little bit.”

  “And you wouldn’t listen worth a shit, so I told you that I’d dance with you in the closet.”

  “And that worked?”

  He grinned. “You seemed to think it was a great idea—threw your arms around my neck and pressed up against me.” His smiled faded, and he was quiet for a moment, before meeting her eyes. “I’d like to tell you that I didn’t take advantage of that situation...that I didn’t put my arms around you and pull you closer. That I said ‘no’ when you told me that butterscotch chips liked being kissed.”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t think about things like consent or whether or not you were sober enough to be making a decision like that. All I knew is that I had the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen in my arms, and she wanted me to kiss her. So, I did.”

  She frowned again. “That was on me. I was the adult in that situation. You were a kid. I should have never put you in that position.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her, choosing not to travel that line of thought. “Do you remember me kissing you?” He knew that none of this was as indelibly burned into her memory the way it was his—if it were, she wouldn’t have come out here to ask him about it—but he could admit to himself that he wanted it to be.

  “No.” She sounded almost disappointed.

  “I kissed you, and things got...a bit frantic.”

  Her eyes closed, and that telling blush was back.

  “You shoved your hand in my pants and wrapped your fingers around my prick, and it was a wonder I didn’t go off, right then.”
He settled back against the sofa and watched her reaction creep across her incredibly expressive face. “You asked me why I wasn’t touching you, and to make you forget about him. Make you forget about being sad.”

  She dropped her head into her hand.

  “So, I touched you. Your panties were sopping, and you felt so fucking good when you shoved them down and wrapped your leg around me that I just pushed inside.”

  He heard her breath hitch, and he felt an answering pull in his gut.

  “For a minute, I couldn’t even move. You were so fucking perfect. But then, you demanded that I fuck you.”

  “Demanded?” she asked, her voice sounding strangled.

  He nodded, his lips twitching. “You said that if I didn’t fuck you, you’d holler until you found someone who would.”

  “Oh, my god,” she mumbled from behind her hand. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need to hear the rest of this.”

  “You don’t? Are you sure, love?” He couldn’t resist teasing her.

  “Nope. Pretty sure I remember the rest.”

  “You remember me sliding my hands under your arse, hoisting you a bit higher up the wall while you locked your legs around my waist?”

  She rapidly nodded, even though she refused to look at him.

  “And you remember moaning in my ear as I pounded into you?”

  “Not that. Specifically.”

  “How about when you started to come?” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “To be honest, that’s the part that I’ll never forget as long as I live.”

  As if she couldn’t help it, she peered at him through her fingers.

  “You got so loud I was afraid that everyone was going to come running, so I covered your mouth with my hand.” His cock jerked at the memory. “And damned if that didn’t make you come harder.”

  Chapter Five

  Ivy groaned and hid her face with her hands, closing the spaces between her fingers.

  “Do you remember that, too?” he asked.

  She wanted to lie. She wanted to tell him that she had no idea what he was talking about. But that wouldn’t really be fair. After all, she’d been the one to ask him what had happened. She’d been the one who’d asked for details. She’d been so, so stupid. And now, her embarrassment was second only to her arousal as she replayed his voice in her head as he’d described her orgasming.

  “Ivy?” he prompted.

  She took a deep breath and forced her face into the same faux-serene expression she’d adopted when she’d found out about Daniel and Brayden’s mother before glancing up at Will. She refused to meet his gaze, but she stared in his general direction. “I remember,” she finally said.

  “So...” He drifted off, almost forcing her to look in his direction.

  “So?” she choked out.

  “I’ve thought about that moment a lot over the years.”

  She closed her eyes. “And?”

  “And I can’t help wondering if you were always into breath play, or if that was your first experience with it.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she couldn’t turn away from him even if she’d wanted to. “Are you always this direct?”

  He nodded, holding her gaze. “Almost always.”

  “Great.”

  Seemingly endless hours passed, but it probably wasn’t more than a few seconds.

  “So...the breath play?”

  “First experience. And basically last,” she muttered.

  He sat forward a bit. “What was that, love?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Did you say, first and last?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  Concern dulled the light in his eyes. “Your body responded like you enjoyed it. Did I scare you? Trigger you, somehow?”

  His worry was so intense it practically hovered in the air between them.

  “No,” she said, rushing to reassure him. “Nothing like that.” She swallowed hard, remembering when she’d finally worked up the nerve to ask Daniel for what she wanted, and he’d pretty much accused her of being a sexual deviant.

  “Then, what?” Will asked, drawing her attention back to him.

  “My husband—my ex, I mean...” She turned away from the intensity of Will’s gaze. “He— Let’s just say he wasn’t into it. At all.”

  Will was so quiet she had to look at him—had to see what his reaction was. As soon as she glanced his way, she almost wished that she hadn’t. He seemed furious, though she guessed it wasn’t aimed at her, but it still sent a chill down her spine, and she pulled the blanket more snuggly around her.

  “And he made you feel like shite, I suppose,” he finally said, his voice tight.

  “In a word,” she agreed.

  “Arsehole.” Will’s lips turned downward into a beautifully sculpted frown. “Is that why you left him?”

  She laughed humorlessly. “Technically, he left me—for the mom of one of my students.”

  Will’s mouth dropped open. “The fuck he did.”

  “Yep. They should be having their baby, any day now.”

  “Oh, Ivy...”

  What the hell was the matter with her blurting out this shit, anyway? She needed to glue her lips shut. Glancing at him again, she couldn’t take the pity in his gaze. She’d seen enough of it from the school secretaries and fellow teachers—even some of the parents who’d found out, so she changed the subject. “I wasn’t going to ask when you mentioned it over supper, but since we seem to have found ourselves on this topic, was...this...what you meant when you said you learned a bit about what you liked that night?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly as he sat back. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but perhaps he was feeling particularly sympathetic because he let her.

  “Being your typically horny seventeen-year-old, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How fucking gorgeous you were when you came. How hard you came. I wanted to know if other women liked that. Well, what I really wanted was more time with you. But I settled for the usual source of reliable information.”

  Despite her discomfort, Ivy’s lips twitched. “Internet porn?”

  “Internet porn,” he confirmed. “Which is where I learned about breath play and all kinds of other interesting things.”

  Ivy shifted in her chair. “I am so not going to ask. We’ve explored enough questionable territory tonight.”

  “Even though you’re dying to know?”

  She frowned at him. “Who says I’m dying to know?”

  “Maybe I’m misreading the signs.” He shrugged.

  She shook her head. “There are no signs.”

  “So, your parted lips and flushed skin and inability to sit still...they’re not signs of arousal?”

  She stopped squirming. “Of course not.”

  “Pity.”

  “Now, you’re just being ridiculous.” She stood, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around her. The last thing she needed was for him to get a glimpse of her taut nipples poking insistently against the lightweight fabric of her pajama top. “I think I’ll finally be able to sleep, now. Goodnight, Will.”

  “’Night.”

  She turned and started walking toward her room.

  “Ivy?”

  Stopping, she looked over her shoulder.

  “If you ever want a safe place to explore your kinks, I’m right here.”

  Her stomach flipped with nervous excitement, and her throat was suddenly dry. She swallowed hard. “I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have any kinks.” He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she added. “And you’re the farthest thing from safe that I’ve ever seen.”

  Ivy walked stiffly to the bedroom and quietly closed the door, wishing she had more than a slab of wood between them. It was all she could do to stay in her suddenly too warm room. What she really wanted was to throw open the door, cross the room and straddle Will where he sat on the couch. She wanted to take him up on his offer. She wanted the spanking he’d threatened her with, a
nd she wanted to feel his hand over her mouth. She wanted it around her neck. She wanted him to fill her again. And god, more than anything, she wanted to know what excited him and give him that.

  She took a deep breath and pushed down all her wants. None of these things were going to happen. She was going to go to bed, go to sleep, and pretend that they’d never had that conversation. She was going to pretend that Will was nothing more to her than her friend’s little brother—nothing more, nothing less.

  After cracking open the window, she climbed into bed and dragged the covers over her too-sensitive skin. Every nerve was alive and sparking beneath her flesh, frantic for Will’s touch. And two hours later, when he crept into the room to wake her, she was just as desperate for his hands on her as ever.

  “I know you’re not asleep, love, so you can stop pretending.”

  She froze at the sound of his voice.

  “I’ve been listening to you toss and turn for the past two hours.”

  She sighed as he sat on the bed, his hip resting against her thigh. “If you knew I was awake, you didn’t even need to bother getting up.”

  Moonlight filtered in through the window, painting his body with a soft glow. “I still need to check on you. How’s the pain?”

  “Fine. As long as I don’t roll over on that side.”

  “So, what’s keeping you awake?”

  She just stared at him, glad she was hidden by shadows. He couldn’t see her mouth hanging open. What the hell did he think was keeping her awake?

  “Did talking about your ex upset you?”

  She hadn’t expected him to ask that—she assumed he would have gone into a full flirting assault. She cleared her throat. “Not especially. I’ve had some time to get used to his crap.”

  “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” His voice was soft, almost soothing in the quiet dark. But the deep rumble and the panty-dropping accent combined to settle heavily in her abdomen. She tried to ignore the effect he had on her and focus on his question.