“I didn’t.” He grinned. “But I was in the mood for the sounds you make when you eat it, so...”
She released his finger and laughed. “You can hear those sounds whenever you want.”
“Trust me, love. I plan to later, tonight.” The timer beeped, and he reluctantly stepped away from her to pull their food from the oven. “That reminds me, do you know what today is?”
She stretched to lift the plates from the cupboard, and he paused to admire the way her skirt framed her arse.
“Thursday.”
“Try again,” he said as he tossed the potholders on the counter.
She set the plates on the table as he grabbed the cutlery.
“Judging from the way you were just staring at my ass and that hard-on you’re sporting, it’s the day that you turn me over your knee and spank me until I come?”
His hand strayed to the front of his jeans, and he ground the heel against his now throbbing prick. “I’d say there was a brilliant chance of that happening. But that wasn’t what I was thinking of.”
It was the anniversary of the day he’d proposed to her on the pitch in Liverpool, and she’d told him to ask her the following year. For the last two years, she’d said the same thing. So, here they were. It didn’t matter if he had to ask her every year for the rest of their lives. The important thing was they were together, which was so much more than he thought they’d have three years ago.
She crossed the room and trailed her fingers over his straining erection, and he closed his eyes.
“I know what day it is.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She leaned close and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck as she continued to caress him through his fly. “It’s the day I say ‘yes’.”
It took a few moments for her meaning to dawn on him, and his eyes flew open.
She looked less sure of herself than she had when she’d moved to touch him, and she withdrew her hand. “Unless...I’m wrong about the day...or you changed your mind about asking me...or—”
He slipped his hand behind her neck and tugged her forward, swallowing the rest of her words as he kissed her. In the last three years, her insecurities had all since vanished, but every once in a while, one would rise to the surface of their otherwise calm existence. When he felt her melt against him, he lifted his head.
“You’re not wrong about the day,” he murmured as she blinked open her silvery gray eyes. “And you should know that I’ll never change my mind about asking you. About wanting to be with you. I love you.”
She blinked rapidly, and a watery smile curved her lips. “I love you, too.”
He trailed his fingertip from the hollow of her throat down her chest into the valley of her breasts. “So...about that ‘yes’...”
Excerpt from Bound: Safeword Protected
By Jessica Jarman
Coming Soon
Clara Turner loves her life—her career as a travel writer takes her to places most people only dream of. But with the birth of her cousin’s first child quickly approaching, Clara happily trades her fast-paced adventures for the quiet Irish village to be there for the new arrival.
When Clara’s laptop acts up, her cousin decides to do Clara a favor and takes it to Niall Walsh, the village’s unofficial tech support. Clara panics at the thought of Niall—sexy, sets-her-lady-bits-tingling-from-afar Niall—discovering her secret stash of filthy kinkery living on her hard drive.
Niall lived the big-city life for years and dated the glamorous woman that came along with it before coming back home. He’s heard about Clara for ages, but nothing prepares him for the instant attraction he feels when he first sees her. He ignores it though—knowing she’s only there for a short time.
Besides, she’s the type of woman who fit in his past, not his present. He doesn’t have anything to offer that she’d want. At least, that’s what he’d thought...before he delved into her computer and discovered exactly what Clara likes. As he learns more about her, Niall realizes he can offer her something no one else can—the chance to explore her deepest desires instead of just watching on a screen.
It should be easy—a hot fling before Clara’s job takes front and center again—but when the time comes, will either of them be able to slip free from the bonds that now connect them?
* * * *
Massive knots forming in her middle, she shifted from foot to foot. God, he was pretty. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought so, and likely wouldn’t be the last. His brown hair was a mess as it was his habit to drive his fingers through it. She frowned slightly—she shouldn’t be noticing his habits. Certainly shouldn’t be noticing his long, almost elegant fingers. Shouldn’t be imagining those fingers on her skin, around her throat, heavy on her tongue.
She shook her head, dislodged the errant thoughts and brought her gaze back to Niall, jolting back when she found herself alone with him, his clear green eyes on her. A dark eyebrow lifted, and while he wasn’t grinning as he had with his customers, a smile still flirted with his full mouth.
“I came for my computer,” she blurted and nearly smacked herself as her words came out way too loudly. She inhaled deeply through her nose then stepped forward. “I mean, Maire told me she’d given you my laptop to fix. But she shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s an older one, anyway, and now is as good a time as any to replace it. So, I’ll just take it off your hands, but thank you...Mr. Walsh.”
Her face hotter than ever, she snapped her mouth closed.
“Seems a shame to replace when it’s still a perfectly good machine,” he said, reaching beneath the counter. Setting her computer and the neatly bound cord on the flat surface, he met her gaze. “All fixed...Ms. Turner.”
“Ohhhhh...” Her breath whooshed out as if she’d been struck hard in the stomach. Her heart raced, and a roar filled her ears.
“...quite a simple fix, actually.” Niall’s words finally penetrated her panicked haze.
“Oh, thank you?” She cringed at the questioning tone of her words, feeling like a complete and utter moron.
His laugh, low and dark, did things to her she didn’t want to examine, and she had to fight not to press her thighs together in response.
“You’re very welcome,” he murmured, turning slightly to grab a paper bag from the shelf behind him. “Would you mind taking these to Maire? They’re the biscuits she’s been having a craving for and nagging me about for weeks.”
“Yeah, sure,” she said slowly, moving closer to the counter.
Intense relief washed over her. He wasn’t acting any differently. Well, other than saying more words to her in the last five minutes than he had in the entire time she’d been in town, but she supposed they had something to talk about, now. And, he wasn’t treating her like he knew. He wasn’t treating her like anything other than a guest of his friends.
She lifted the laptop and took the bag from Niall, determinedly not looking at his extremely suckable fingers or his pretty face. She’d avoided a really, really awkward situation, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to create another by drooling over the man.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring my wallet with me, but I’m good for it. How much do I owe you?”
“Owe me?” Confusion danced through his words, and without thinking, Clara looked up, took in the furrow of his brow, which had no right being so damned adorable. “For what? The biscuits? Those are a gift.”
“No, for the repairs.” she clarified.
He made a grumbling noise and shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Like I said, it was an easy fix. Hardly took any time at all.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind paying. Really, I—”
“Of course I’m sure,” he said firmly, catching and holding her gaze. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
Before she could respond, stupidly feeling an apology on the tip of her tongue—for what, she had no idea—the bell above the door jingled, and a couple of young girls came in, talking hurriedly between th
emselves.
“Make sure you get those biscuits to Maire,” he nodded toward the bag she held, “and think twice before nicking a few for yourself. Pregnant women can be vicious when it comes to their cravings.” With that, he turned to the girls. “Stella Parsons, if you’re here for your tablet, you know full well I’m not handing it over until your mum tells me to. And I highly doubt we’re at that point, yet.”
“I know. She sent me here to see if you had any work for me to do to help pay off what...” The taller of the pair, a girl with blonde hair and wide blue eyes, glanced at Clara then back to Niall. “What I still owe you.”
Despite the curiosity that filled her—she figured a town this small, Maire was bound to know the story behind this—Clara skirted around the girls and out the door. She bit back a laugh as Stella’s voice followed her out.
“But you did fix it, right, Niall? Did you—”
Clara hugged the laptop to her chest as she walked back to Maire and Brody’s, her steps lighter than before. Niall obviously hadn’t seen anything, and she didn’t have to replace her computer, after all. Definitely the best outcome to all of this. This was why her worst-case-scenario way of thinking was something she had to kick. More times than not, she worried over nothing.
She let herself into the cottage, smiling when she heard Maire singing softly in the front room. After hanging up her jacket, she picked the computer and bag again and went to her cousin.
“I come bearing biscuits.”
“Oh, bless Niall. He was finally able to get some,” Maire said happily, setting her book aside and making gimme motions with her fingers.
Clara handed the bag over quickly, smothering a smile when Maire immediately dove in.
“He was done with your computer already?” she asked after practically inhaling one of the cookies.
“Yep.” Clara patted the machine. “I tried to pay him but—”
Maire laughed. “He refused. Niall would never take money. Don’t worry, we’ll invite him over for supper or something as a thank you.”
“Okay.” Clara shrugged. “Do you need anything? Help with tonight’s supper?”
“No. I’m going to enjoy my biscuits and tea.” She nodded to the cup on the table beside her. “You go on. I know you’re dying to check and make sure everything is in order with your computer.”
“Maybe,” Clara admitted, smiling and taking a step back.
“Go away.” Maire popped another cookie in her mouth. “My book was just getting good.”
Laughing, Clara hurried up the stairs into the guest room. She plugged in the laptop then plopped on the bed, crossing her legs and setting the computer in front of her as it powered on. She stretched her arms over her head then reached behind her head to pull the elastic from her hair. Closing her eyes and groaning slightly, she massaged her sore scalp as she tilted her head side to side.
When her computer chimed, she opened her eyes. And promptly froze, arms in the air. After a moment, her heart thumped wildly and her chest ached with the increasingly rapid breaths she drew in.
In the middle of the screen was, pinned to her desktop, was an electronic sticky note. The words searing themselves into her brain.
Hello, Clara. (After this, I think we’re past the Ms. Turner-Mr. Walsh nonsense, don’t you?)
I did you a favor and closed the many tabs you had pinned in your browser. To avoid inconvenience and possibly killing your computer in future, I’d suggest some safer sites. I think the following will meet your needs quite nicely.
Niall
Below his name was a list of web addresses—most of the URLs telling Clara exactly what type of sites they were. Dropping her arms, she slammed the computer closed and shoved it several inches away from her.
“Oh fuck,” she breathed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Excerpt from Bound: Drawn That Way
By Bronwyn Green
Available Now
Tristan Weaver, accountant for a successful video game company, is in way over her head. Honestly answering a company-wide survey and criticizing the sexist stereotypes used in the company’s games was enough to catch her boss’ attention. But speculating on his sex life within his earshot has unexpected consequences when her hot, but nerdy, boss invites her to model for him.
Owner, artist and lead developer of Brecken Games, Rory Brecken, has a strict no fraternizing with employees rule. However, when he overhears Tristan’s conversation with her friend about his rumored kinks and begins to suspect her curiosity in the submissive side of sex, he’s more than a little tempted. When her interest is undeniably confirmed, he suggests a onetime only, colleagues with benefits hook-up.
Though neither want a relationship, once isn’t enough for either one of them. As their encounters become more intense, Rory makes a huge mistake that may cost him the woman he’s coming to love.
* * * *
The imprint of Rory’s hands had been seared into Tris’ shoulders. She swore she could still feel his touch as she pushed up on her elbows and stared at him. What had been an easy camaraderie moments before seemed to vanish into thin air. He glanced at her, then away, as if he were uncomfortable again. Of course, that may have been because she’d been lying there wanting him to kiss her, and it had been painfully obvious. That was more than enough to make someone pull back. She was an idiot. She’d let her libido get away from her and imagined an attraction where there was none.
He extended his hand toward her, and she took it, letting him pull her up off the mat with a surprising amount of strength. Releasing her, he walked to the camera, turned it off and removed it from the tripod.
“You’re really good at this,” he tossed over his shoulder as she picked up their swords from the mat. “Any chance you’d be willing to come in and do it again? I have a feeling we could get a lot of usable footage.”
“Yeah. I could definitely do that.”
“I’d pay you, of course.”
She shrugged. “You don’t have to. This was a better workout than going to the gym. And a lot more fun.” Granted, she wouldn’t mind the money, but she’d feel guilty getting paid for something she’d do for free.
He shook his head, frowning slightly. “I’d feel better about paying you.”
That’s right, Tris. This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. Pack up your stern professor fantasies, and take them home to the shower where they belong. Idiot.
“So, can I get copies of the video and the pictures? I’d love to see everything.”
“Sure. Just give me a second.”
Rory left the room, and she grabbed her bottle of water and downed the rest of it before beginning to pick up the weapons they’d used for the shoot.
“What’s your password?” he asked, setting a laptop on his tall drafting table.
“The Doctor’s Companion. All one word. Capital T, capital D, apostrophe S, and capital C.”
Rory snorted and typed it in as she turned around. “I’ll just upload the files from the SD card so you can have a copy, too.”
He typed it in on her keyboard.
On her laptop.
Her laptop that he’d just grabbed from her office.
Where she’d been looking at, well, basically porn, when he’d walked in earlier.
“Close the lid. Close it,” she practically screeched, crossing the room to do it herself.
His eyebrows drew together, and he stared at her, his expression quizzical. Then, he slowly turned his head back toward her screen. She could see the flickering image of the .GIF reflected in the lenses of his glasses. Even without looking at the computer, she knew what he was seeing.
She must have watched that image cycle through twenty-seven times before he’d entered her office earlier. A man stood behind a woman and slid his hand over her chest to gently wrap his long fingers around her neck as he yanked down the cup of her bra with his other hand, baring her breast. Her nipple hardened right before the .GIF repeated itself in an endless loop.
&nb
sp; Scorching heat rushed to her face, and she closed her eyes. If there were any justice in the world, the floor would open and swallow her whole. Or there would be a tsunami on Lake Michigan, and it would drown her. “Just so you know, I wasn’t looking at...that site...on company time. I didn’t open it until after five.”
The man’s hands had reminded her of Rory’s. It was part of the reason she’d watched it over and over. That and the stupid conversation she’d had with Clover.
“I believe you,” he said, somewhat distractedly, clicking the buttons on her touch pad. “You’re not one to slack off at work.”
She forced her eyes open only to discover that he’d moved from her dashboard to her actual blog where she’d reposted all of the images that had turned her on and was scrolling through them. All of the images that made her want more than the boring, safe sex she always ended up with. All of the images that were currently revealing her desperate needs to her boss.
“At least, I know my instincts about you weren’t wrong.”
Purchase Drawn That Way
Excerpt from Bound: London Bound
By Jessica Jarman
Available Now
After losing her husband six years ago, Meg Stevens has focused on the day-to-day and being a mother, not sparing a thought for anything beyond—no dates, no excitement, no life other than what she already had. A six-week vacation to London, all but forced on her by her two children, changes all of that. Meg meets the man of her dreams—gorgeous, dominant, and completely on board with a short-term fling—despite the fact he’s far too young for her.
Nathan Harris is more than a bit curious about the beautiful woman renting the upstairs flat, and once he talks to her, curiosity is quickly replaced by arousal and desire. It doesn’t take long before it’s clear she longs to experience sexual submission, and Nathan finds himself desperate to be the one she submits to.
Her days spent exploring the city, her nights exploring Nathan and the pleasure submitting to him brings, Meg discovers the trip she’d taken out of obligation has turned into something she doesn’t want to walk away from. However, the life she left behind beckons, and there’s no room there for dreaming of something she can never have.
In Bounds Page 23
