In Bounds

by Bronwyn Green

  “At this point, it’s more humiliating than anything. Not only does your husband think you’re some sort of sex freak, but then, you discover he’s been fucking one of the PTO moms for over a year?”

  “I don’t know what a PTO mum is, but he’s a fucking tosser,” Will ground out. “You deserve so much better than that.”

  Why was she even telling him any of this? Maybe something about the warm dark room created a false sense of intimacy. Maybe everything they’d already discussed made it seem like confiding in him was a good idea. But she’d been right when she’d told him earlier that he was anything but safe. And he was the farthest thing from a good idea that she’d ever had.

  “So, if it’s not pain keeping you awake, and it’s not your ex that’s got you tossing and turning, what is it?”

  She clenched the blankets to keep from touching him and shook her head. “No idea.”

  “I have one. Do you want to hear it?”

  She stifled a groan. “Probably not.”

  “It’s more of a theory, really.”

  “Of course it is,” she mumbled.

  He shifted on the bed, putting more of his body in contact with her thigh. “I think that you can’t help thinking about those kinks that you supposedly don’t have.”

  “You mean the ones I actually don’t have?”

  She could make out his grin in the dim light shining through the window. “Fine, let’s call them hypothetical.”

  “Fine,” she gritted out.

  There was that flash of white as he smiled again. “So, anyway, I think the reason that you’re having trouble falling asleep is that you can’t help thinking about those hypothetical kinks of yours. And you can’t relax with all that arousal coursing through your body. It’s almost as bad as adrenaline.”

  “I’m horny? That’s your theory?”

  “Sounds reasonable to me. And I should point out, that I’m more than happy to help you with that problem.”

  She sighed. “We’re not having sex, Will. Once was enough.”

  He leaned over her, bracing his palms against the mattress on either side of her. “That’s where you’re wrong, love. Once isn’t even on the same continent as enough. But I wasn’t offering to have sex with you. I was just offering to make you come. I figure after three or four good, hard orgasms, you’ll fall sound asleep, no problem.”

  Her pussy clenched emptily, longing for what he offered. “That’s probably the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” she said, hating the stupidly breathy catch in her voice. “Though...you get points for altruism... Or something.”

  He stayed where he was, staring down at her and lifted a shoulder. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He slowly sat back then pushed to his feet. “I promise it would be the best sleep you ever had.”

  Will gently closed the door behind him, leaving Ivy lying there with her mouth hanging open and her body thrumming with need. There was no way she was getting any sleep tonight. Or possibly ever again.

  Chapter Six

  Will quietly made his way outside into the cool night air. He needed to put a little space between them. It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed not to close the distance and kiss her as she’d stared up at him, lips parted and eyes wide. Every time he got near her, all of his good intensions flew out the window, and he found himself saying whatever asinine thing popped into his head. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he set the alarm for another two hours and jogged toward the path that ran along the stream in the back of his sister’s property.

  He needed to get rid of some of this pent-up energy. Sitting in the cottage, knowing Ivy was only a room away was killing him. If his knee were fully-healed, or hadn’t been injured in the first place, he’d be running full bore until he was too exhausted to be tempted by Ivy and her lush curves and smart mouth. He considered heading up to the main house and tiring himself out in Charlotte and Caleb’s gym room, but he wanted to be nearby in case Ivy needed something.

  A part of him—a large part—that really hoped she needed to get laid. But on the off chance that she actually did have a concussion, sex was a terrible idea. And even though she’d seemed quite adamant about being over her wanker of an ex, Will wasn’t sure he wanted to push her too hard. But fuck, he wanted her.

  He slowed to a walk and continued farther down the trail. It was really too dark to jog. Simon and the rest of the team would kill him if he broke his ankle by stepping in an animal burrow. Of course, if he broke his ankle, maybe he could convince Ivy to nurse him back to health. He shook his head at himself. He was really beyond pathetic.

  So what if she was his first? Everyone had a first, didn’t they? And just because he’d never really gotten over her... No. There was nothing to get over. He simply hadn’t ever gotten enough of her, and now that she was here, he couldn’t seem to think of anything else.

  He glanced back at the cottage. He wanted her just as badly—no, worse—than he had when he’d brought her back to her hotel room all those years ago. He remembered finding the friend who’d borrowed Ivy’s keycard and getting it back from her. He’d half-walked, half-dragged Ivy to the elevator, and when she’d passed out just before they’d reached her floor, he’d hoisted her over his shoulder, smoothing her now too short skirt over her bottom. He hadn’t known her that well, but he’d guessed she wouldn’t be pleased if she heard later that she’d been flashing her bare arse around the hotel.

  Keeping her balanced over his shoulder, he’d slid the keycard into the reader and waited for the light to flash green. Turning the handle, he let himself into the room and tried to figure out which bed to put Ivy into. The blue dress he remembered seeing on her at the rehearsal lay across the foot of the bed closest to the door. Tugging down the bedding, he tried to gently slide her from his shoulder into the mattress.

  She sloppily wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, nuzzling her lips against his throat as she practically pulled him into the bed with her. “Stay with me,” she murmured. Almost as soon as the words hit the air, she opened her heavy-lidded eyes and stared blearily at him. “But you won’t. The good ones never do.”

  Her arms fell away from him, and she turned her head toward the wall. He’d known then that she’d been hurting, but he had no idea how badly. And he didn’t have the slightest clue what to say or do about it.

  “You’re going to be feeling all that booze in the morning. How about if I get you some aspirin? Do you have any?”

  She lifted her hand before letting it flop back to the mattress. “Purse.”

  He glanced around the room. There were two purses sitting on the dresser along with the TV and a slew of makeup, hair stuff, and god knew what else.

  “Red or brown?”

  “Boring brown for boring Ivy,” she muttered.

  “You’re far from boring,” he said as he rifled through the bag. Finding a bottle of ibuprofen, he shook out two into his palm, glanced at her and added two more. He filled a cup with water from the bathroom and brought it to her, sitting beside her as she swallowed down the pills.

  She gagged a little, and he jumped up and grabbed the empty ice bucket from the dresser and brought it to her. “Do you need to be sick?”

  “This water just tastes nasty.”

  “How about if I grab you a couple of bottles from the bar and bring them back up?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked like he’d just offered to donate an organ. “You’d do that?”

  “Sure thing.”

  He shook his head at the memory. He would have done anything for her, at that point.

  He’d set the ice bucket on the nightstand by her bed and tapped it. “Just in case.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll be back in a bit with your water.”

  “Thank you.”

  By the time he’d returned with the water, she’d been fast asleep, snoring softly. He set the bottles next to the ice bucket, and smoothing her hair from her face, kissed h
er forehead. He figured he’d see her in the morning at the post-wedding breakfast, but she hadn’t shown up. The girl she’d been rooming with said that Ivy hadn’t felt well and had gone home to rest.

  He’d always regretted never knowing if he’d meant anything to her or if any cock in a closet would have done. At the time, he’d been young and stupid and hoped she’d thought of him fondly, too. Now, he knew. He was just another regret.

  He turned and started to head back toward the cottage, rolling his eyes at himself. He was just being melodramatic. He didn’t know for certain that she regretted their encounter. Sure, she’d been embarrassed by it. And horrified when she’d found out his age, but there’d been a shimmer of heat in her eyes when she’d looked at him. There’d been a catch in her breath when he’d touched her.

  His phone chimed, and he pulled it from his pocket. As much as he’d like it to be, he knew it wasn’t Ivy—they hadn’t exchanged contact information. Though, that would change since he’d be heading back to London with Simon.

  Glancing at the screen, he stifled a groan. Peyton. His life had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot more complicated.

  He swiped his thumb across her name, and her message popped up. It was a photo of a crop laying on her bed with the caption, Wanna play? under it.

  He’d known for a while that he was going to have to break things off with Peyton. Seeing Ivy, today, made that clearer than ever. Not that he thought things were going to go anywhere serious with Ivy. She was still dealing with the loss of her marriage. But interacting with her solidified his feelings about wanting to settle down. And settling down with Peyton had never been an option.

  He liked her as a friend. And their friendship had progressed to friends with benefits. While they’d had a lot of fun together, he just wasn’t feeling it like he used to. The injury had caused him to reevaluate so many things, and one of them was his relationship with Peyton.

  It had been fun in the beginning when they’d both been looking for the same thing—exploring their various kinks in several of London’s more exclusive clubs. Peyton was a switch, but she’d always been more than happy to submit to him. Sex with a willing partner who didn’t want more from him than his body and the punishment he chose to mete out had been a heady experience, but eventually, he realized something was missing.

  As much as he liked her, he was never going to fall in love with her. And, even if he did, it wouldn’t do him a damn bit of good. Peyton had no interest in settling down, and she definitely didn’t want kids. Ultimately, he wanted what some of the guys on his team had—a wife and kids to go home to. He wanted what Charlotte had. Not that he was planning on it happening any time soon, but he wasn’t going to find it while he and Peyton were busy fucking each other’s brains out, either.

  He dialed her number, and she picked up on the second ring. “You coming over?”

  “I’m at my sister’s.”

  She sighed. “But I need a good shag.”

  “We both know I’m not your only choice for that.”

  “No.” She laughed. “But you are one of my favorites.”

  He grinned. “Oh, to be counted so highly among the masses.”

  “What can I say, I’m a girl who likes variety.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “All part of your charm.” He glanced back toward the dark cottage. Only the lamp in the living room burned, and the house seemed completely quiet. Maybe Ivy had finally fallen asleep.

  “Are you even listening?”

  He sighed. “Sorry, P. Mind’s wandering.”

  “I can see that. You okay? Your knee bothering you?”

  “No more than it has been.” He looked at the lounge chairs outside the cottage and considered flopping into one since his knee was aching more after the jog. But if Ivy were sleeping, he didn’t want to wake her if his voice carried. He wandered closer to the stream. Clouds had scuttled across the moon, and it was full dark, but he was pretty sure he was headed toward the gazebo.

  “All right, then, who is she?” Peyton asked.

  “Who’s who?”

  “The girl that’s got you all distracted.”

  He snorted as he pulled open the door of the screened in structure. “Who says there’s a girl?”

  “Oh, please. I hope you can hear me rolling my eyes through the phone. Because I am. Repeatedly.”

  “It’s not just her,” he muttered.

  “I knew it!” she crowed. “Now, spill.”

  He sighed, lowering himself into the swing hanging from the ceiling of gazebo. “Just someone I knew a long time ago. My sister’s best friend, here from the States. And it’s not just her,” he repeated. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Uh-huh.” Disbelief was clear in her tone.

  “I need another fucking MRI.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” she said, instantly sympathetic. “I know you hate that thing.” He muttered his agreement, and she added, “I’d offer to come over after and make you feel better, but I get the feeling that you’d rather have someone else play nurse for you.”

  “Oh, fuck off, already,” he said on a laugh, setting the swing moving with his toe.

  She sighed dramatically. “I would, but my fuck buddy is pining after someone else.”

  “Whatever, P.”

  “What? We both know that you’re my favorite.”

  “And we also both know that depends on what mood you’re in.”

  “So true.” She laughed. “Since you’re not going to give me the screaming orgasm of my dreams, tonight, you can at least tell me the mystery woman’s name.”

  “Why?”

  “Curiosity. You know I’m ruled by it.” When he didn’t answer right away, she continued, her tone serious. “I’m not going to do anything to ruin this for you, Wills. I’ve always known that whatever we had was short term. You want the picket fence and the spanking bench. And I just want to have fun.” There was a long pause, and she added, “But I thought we’d still be friends when it was over.”

  He sighed as guilt slithered through him. “Of course, we are. I’ve just... I don’t even know. I’m not in love with her. If I’m being honest, I’m not even sure she can stand me.”

  Peyton laughed. “Don’t be daft. I’ve never met a woman you couldn’t charm.”

  “You haven’t met Ivy, either.”

  “Ivy,” she said, considering. “I like it. You should bring her with you for the test, and then, we can all go out for dinner.”

  “Did you miss the part where I’m not sure she can stand me? Besides, she’s coming off a divorce.”

  “Yikes. Yeah, maybe not your best choice for the Happily Ever After train.”

  He dragged his hand through his hair. “I told you, I’m not in love with her.”

  “Maybe not yet,” she said knowingly.

  The alarm on his phone went off, startling him.

  “What the hell is that?” Peyton asked.

  “That’s the alarm that’s set to wake Ivy up every two hours to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion.”

  “What on earth is going on over there?”

  He quickly explained the situation with Phoebe as he walked back toward the cottage.

  Peyton laughed in disbelief. “You’ve really got your work cut out for you, don’t you? Go wake up your girl.”

  “Peyton...”

  “Fine. Go wake up the woman who clearly doesn’t have you tied up in knots. Hopefully, you’ll sort all this out, and I’ll get a chance to meet her someday.”

  They said goodbye, and Will slipped into the cottage and quietly pushed open the door to Ivy’s room. She was curled up on her side, her hair in a dark tangle across her pillow, hands tucked beneath her chin, and her breathing deep and even. As he stared at Ivy, Peyton’s comment about wanting a picket fence and a spanking bench echoed in his head.

  There was enough of that seventeen-year-old kid left in him to admit that it wasn’t a huge stretch to imagine Ivy there. But the man i
n him pushed that thought away. With their joint past and her broken heart, falling for Ivy would be just as monumentally stupid as falling for Peyton. And just as impossible.

  Chapter Seven

  The screaming sound of an air horn woke Ivy from a dead sleep, and she pushed up on her elbow, searching for the asshole making the noise. Squinting, in the bright morning light, she saw Will in the chair near her bed, eyes closed and head tilted awkwardly to the side in sleep, oblivious to his phone pulsing angrily on the little table between them. She grabbed the device and tried to figure out how to silence the stupid thing. She slid her finger across the screen, and the sound ceased, leaving an almost ringing silence in her ears.

  As she shifted the phone in her hand to return it to the bedside table, her thumb bumped the text icon, and a message from someone named Peyton popped up. It was a photo of what looked like a riding crop on a white bedspread and the message, Wanna play? in the text bubble beneath. Her mouth dropped open, and an involuntary gasp escaped—equal parts rage and arousal. She glanced up to find Will watching her with sleepy-looking green eyes.

  She threw off the suddenly too-warm covers and sat up. “Are you fucking serious with this?” she demanded.

  “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, love. I’m not sure I’m quite awake, yet.”

  She turned his phone to face him. “How fucking dare you proposition me when you have a girlfriend? And how fucking dare you try to screw around on her behind her back?!” She pushed to her feet and tossed his phone at him. “I didn’t think you were that much of an asshole. Clearly, I’m a terrible judge of character. And to think...”

  “And to think what?” he demanded, looking far more awake than he had moments earlier.

  She shook her head and stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door. “Never mind.”

  After she brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face, Ivy stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked hideous—blotchy blue and purple, but no real swelling, thank goodness. It seemed all the ice packs had helped. But as she studied her image, she was more concerned about the tears burning her eyes.