In Bounds

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In Bounds Page 6

by Bronwyn Green


  She couldn’t believe Will would be shitty enough to cheat on his girlfriend. Though, why that thought was so hard to swallow, she had no idea. Daniel certainly hadn’t had any trouble fucking around on her, and they’d been married. She sighed. If she were being honest with herself, she’d wanted to believe the man who’d taken such tender care of her and who’d seemed attracted to her was genuine. Instead, he was just another asshole. She knew there were good guys out there, but Will obviously wasn’t one of them. And the sooner she came to terms with that, the better off she’d be.

  Unfortunately, now, all she could do was imagine his hand wrapped around the handle of the crop as he brought it down on a bare ass. And since she had no clue what Peyton looked like, it was all too easy to imagine herself in that position. For fuck’s sake, she needed to get a grip.

  Yanking open the bathroom door, she stopped dead, fingers clenched on the knob. Will blocked her way, his palms braced against the doorframe.

  She forced herself to lift her head and meet his gaze. “I get that you’re down to fuck anything that moves, but I’m not interested.”

  “Noted.”

  They glared at each other, until she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Move.”

  “Just as soon as you hear what I have to say.”

  “If you’re going to tell me that she’s one of those sportsball cleat chasers, save it.”

  “I assume you mean football and WAG wannabes.”

  Her fist tightened on the door handle. “Whatever.”

  “And Peyton? A WAG wannabe?” He snorted. “Hardly.” His smile faded, and he held Ivy motionless with his hooded gaze. “Also, she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Ivy didn’t say anything.

  “She’s my friend,” he continued. “Has been since uni. And yes, when neither of us are seeing other people, we sometimes have sex.” He tilted his head to the side, slightly, his gaze boring into hers. “We both have...similar interests.”

  There was that mental image of him using a crop on her own willing ass again. Her gaze drifted to his hands, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he ever covered Peyton’s mouth when she came. A tiny shiver worked through her, and once again, she forced herself to meet his eyes.

  “So, no,” he bit out. “When I’m with someone, I don’t sleep around, and I wouldn’t—not even for you.”

  Not even for her? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  “I realize that your knob of an ex didn’t offer you that same courtesy, so I’ll cut you some slack for jumping to that conclusion about me.”

  Her cheeks flushed with heat.

  “I don’t blame you for being angry with him—just do me a favor and don’t take it out on me, okay?”

  She took a deep breath, blinking back the stupid tears that burned her eyes. She didn’t think she had any tears left for Daniel. She wasn’t even sure they were for him. At this point, she might just be feeling sorry for herself. “You’re right—I made some pretty big assumptions. I’m sorry.”

  Will’s expression softened. “I get it. I do. When your trust is broken that badly, it’s easy to think everyone sucks.”

  Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she glanced away. “And I’m sorry I looked at something that was private. It wasn’t intentional, but it’s still unacceptable.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw his shoulder lift. “It happens. Just so we’re both clear here, I’m about to be very direct.” He paused, waiting until she looked at him. “I’m just as attracted to you as I was twelve years ago.” He shook his head, a rueful grin lifting his lips. “No. More. Much more. So, if the feeling is mutual, and you’re looking to fuck your ex out of your system, I’m available.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and her breath caught in her throat. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. Not even Daniel. Between Will’s unwavering eye contact and his blunt words, her stomach flipped uncontrollably, and her pussy was suddenly slick and needy. Somehow, she doubted she’d ever get used to his straightforwardness. She moistened her suddenly dry lips. “That’s...that’s good to know.”

  “And if you want to experiment with breath play...submission...pain play—whatever you want—I’m your guy.”

  Her lips parted, and her gasp sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness of the morning. She swallowed hard. “Also good to know.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth and hovered there before climbing to her eyes again—his desire obvious and intense. She wished she had the balls to close the distance and kiss him and damn the consequences. But she didn’t.

  Instead, she swallowed hard and grasped for something—anything—to pierce the bubble of intimacy surrounding them. “I should probably get ready. I—I need to work on lesson plans for the kids.”

  She could tell by the tilt of his lips that he didn’t believe her, but he took a step back and gave her a little more space.

  She cleared her throat. “Thank you for looking after me last night.”

  “Any time, love.” He moved over to the bedside table and picked up his phone. “I’m going to head up to the house and take a shower. Is there anything you need?”

  Yeah. You. Inside me. Immediately. “Nope. I’m good.

  “Sure you don’t want any breakfast? You didn’t eat much last night. Maybe some coffee?”

  The coffee sounded good, but her nerves were about shot from too much time in Will’s presence. The farther away he stayed from her, the better off she’d be. “No...but, thanks. I’m just going to take a quick shower and get to work on those plans.”

  When she got out of the bathroom, she found Charlotte sitting at the table with two cups of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with nuts and another bowl of fruit.

  Charlotte smiled at her. “Wills said you didn’t have much of an appetite last night, so I thought I’d bring you some breakfast.”

  Forcing a smile, she hoped looked genuine, Ivy sat down and took a sip of coffee.

  “How are you feeling? You look like shite, by the way.”

  Ivy raised her cup toward her friend. “Thanks.”

  “Actually, the swelling’s not as bad as I expected,” Charlotte allowed.

  “Your brother was insistent on a near constant rotation of icepacks.”

  “He feels so bad about it.” Charlotte gestured loosely at Ivy’s face. “God, and so do I. I just don’t know what to do about Phoebe.”

  “Is she having difficulty with anything other than reading and hating everything about it? Not just school work,” Ivy clarified. “But is she stressed or upset about anything else?”

  “I know she’s not looking forward to the trip. She doesn’t really remember any of Caleb’s family, and she absolutely hates change.”

  “I don’t know anyone like that,” Ivy said pointedly, staring at her friend.

  Charlotte flipped her off, then sighed. “I know, I know. Apple. Tree.”

  Ivy nodded and took a bite of oatmeal. “But mother-daughter similarities aside, her anxiety about everything that’s going on is enough to get her worked up and cause her to act out.”

  Her friend sighed. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “I will, too.”

  “Thanks. I know I’ve already said it, but I really appreciate you being willing to come all the way over here and tutor the kids.”

  “Please. You guys could have hired any tutor you wanted.”

  Charlotte arched a brow. “We did.”

  “You know what I mean. Hiring me was kind of a pity move.”

  Resting her forearms on the table, her friend leaned forward. “You’re great at what you do. Plus, Caleb and I miss you. And this gave you a chance to get away from all the drama.” She leaned back in her chair. “You know what you need...”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “You need a good shag.”

  Hadn’t Will pretty much said the same thing this morning? Well, not exactly, Ivy supposed. He’d offered to fuck her ex out of her system. “I’m not sure getting laid
is going to fix anything.”

  “Well, it’s not going to hurt. For what it’s worth, I don’t think Wills ever got over the crush he developed on you at the wedding.”

  Ivy choked on her oatmeal and had to gulp down several mouthfuls of coffee in order to breathe. “And what? You’re suggesting I fuck your little brother?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Might be a good distraction.”

  It’d be a distraction, all right. Ivy’s cheeks flushed, and she coughed several more times. She didn’t want Charlotte thinking that she was interested in Will.

  “Don’t you think that would be weird for all of us?”

  She laughed. “Why? You’re both adults. It’s not like when he was a kid and pining after you.”

  “Right,” Ivy said, trying to smile, but it felt brittle as if her face would crack. The oatmeal turned to stone in her stomach, and she glanced up at Charlotte. Did she know? Was she guessing? Did she suspect, or was that comment as innocent as it seemed?

  “Well...just something to think about. And if not Wills, I’m sure there are plenty of other fling-worthy guys around here. I could introduce you to a few before you leave. Or Wills could. You should see some of those midfielders.” She fanned herself. “I think I’ll ask Wills who’s single.”

  Panic flared to life. “No!” She shook her head, smiling wanly. “I mean, I’m not sure I’m ready to move on, yet.”

  “Are you still in love with Daniel?” Charlotte’s concern was impossible to miss.

  “No. It’s not that.” She sighed. “I—I’m just not ready for more rejection or even potential rejection.” She sighed. “Pathetic as it is to admit, I’m not sure the old self-esteem is up to it.”

  And if she were being honest with herself, the only person she’d consider a fling with was Will. Partially because she was genuinely attracted to him, and partially because she wanted to know what it was like to be with a man who looked at her the way he did. Even when she’d been sure Daniel loved her, he’d never looked at her like that.

  Ivy pushed the thought out of her head. It didn’t matter how Will looked at her. She wasn’t going to sleep with him for an ego boost. It would only complicate things that were far too complicated already. And she wasn’t sure her and Charlotte’s friendship could withstand the revelation of what had really happened the night of her wedding. And the more Ivy got involved with Will, the more likely it was that truth would slip out. Nope. She was better off acting like they’d never met.

  Chapter Eight

  Will drove to the train station, thoughts of Ivy impossible to shake. The way she’d stared up at him this morning, eyes wide and lips parted. It had been all he’d been able to do to maintain his grip on the doorframe. He’d wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her until she melted against him. But he wanted her to come to him willingly. And that was going to take time. Right now, she was still hurt and suspicious.

  As irrationally angry as he’d been at her for thinking he was the same kind of prick as her ex, he couldn’t truly blame her for jumping to that conclusion. She’d had a rough fucking go of it. But he kept seeing the flash of heated interest in her eyes when he’d talked about his and Peyton’s interest in pain play.

  His lips quirked at the way Ivy had defended P, thinking he was stepping out on his girlfriend. There was something refreshing about that. Maybe it was because she’d been so recently screwed over. Or maybe it was simply that she didn’t want to see someone else get hurt. Whatever it was, he liked it. He liked her, damn it.

  Sure, he knew that a lot of the attraction was leftover nostalgia for his first. But the more he talked to her, the more he got to know her, the more he genuinely liked her. He wasn’t fooling himself into thinking that there wasn’t a huge physical component at play. There definitely was. He wanted to dig his fingertips into her hips when he dragged her against him. He wanted to paddle the ample curve of her ass. He wanted to fill his hands with those insanely full tits of hers. But fuck...more than anything, he wanted to make her come and come and come. He wanted to wipe away the sad, haunted look in her eyes. He’d give just about anything to be able to do that for her.

  The sound of knuckles rapping against glass jarred him from his lust and Ivy filled fantasies.

  “You in a trance, or are you going to let me in?”

  Will blinked, and Simon came into focus. Reaching over, he unlocked the passenger side door and muttered, “Sorry,” as the other man slid inside the car.

  “You didn’t even see me, did you?” Simon asked.

  Will shook his head. “I didn’t even see the train arrive.”

  “I assume your head’s up your arse over this girl?”

  Will flipped off his friend then backed out of the parking space. “Whatever. Like I haven’t seen you all cow-eyed over Eric.”

  “Fuck Eric.”

  Will glanced at his friend. “What’s going on?”

  Simon’s expression hardened. “He decided that he’d rather be with someone who doesn’t travel as much. Like the guy in accounting he’s apparently been fucking for the last three months.”

  “What a fucking dickhead.” He glanced at his friend, who was staring stoically out the windscreen as they made their way back toward his sister’s place. “I’m sorry, mate.”

  Simon shrugged. “Thanks.”

  Will could tell he was hurting. He could also tell that conversation had gone about as far as it was going to, right now.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” the other man said. “Like you. And this girl.”

  “Her name’s Ivy. She’s the kids’ tutor.” He glanced over at Simon. “And she was one of the bridesmaids in Charlotte’s wedding.”

  “Not the bridesmaid.”

  One night, after a game and far too many pints, together with as many members of the team as were still conscious, they’d talked about their firsts.

  Will nodded. “Just...don’t mention it. She’d apparently like to pretend it never happened.”

  “I won’t say a word.” His friend’s lips twitched. “I’ll enjoy watching you squirm, though.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Always the true friend, aren’t you?”

  By the time they made it back to Charlotte’s, Phoebe and Kit were home from school, and both kids were sitting on the grass next to Ivy. Kit had his little dark head bent over a book and a tablet of paper, and Phoebe was lying on her back with a book extended above her head. At least, there weren’t any tantrums being thrown this afternoon.

  As they drew closer, he noticed the way the sun shone on Ivy’s hair as she lay back next to his niece and pointed at the page. Their laughter carried across the yard toward him, and he smiled.

  “Pathetic,” Simon muttered.

  “Piss off.”

  Eventually, Phoebe and Ivy both sat up, and Phoebe shrieked when she saw Will. She looked back at Ivy, who smiled and waved the child toward him. Pheebs hopped up and immediately raced across the lawn toward him. “Aunt Ivy says that I did a good job with my lessons, today. So, can we play footie, now?”

  Will put his arm around her. “We can’t today, poppet. First off, I don’t know how long your mum and dad grounded you. And second, I have to go back to London with Simon, tonight.”

  Phoebe turned her pout on his friend.

  “Your Uncle Wills needs some tests on his knee to make sure he’s healthy enough to play footie with you and the rest of the team.”

  “Okay,” Phoebe muttered and kicked the grass.

  “Why don’t you and Kit go see if you can help your mum with supper? And Simon is going to check on Aunt Ivy’s eye.”

  Ivy’s head whipped up, and she stared at Will, her eyes slightly narrowed.

  “I thought we decided I was fine. No concussion.”

  “No. You said you were fine and refused to see a doctor. There’s a difference.”

  “And Wills, being the tenacious bastard he is, brought the doctor to you.” Simon extended his hand to Ivy. “I’m Simon Jacobs
, Wills’ friend and the team physiotherapist. And judging from that wicked bruise, you must be my patient.”

  Still looking a bit wary as she glanced toward Will then back to Simon, she shook his hand, a small smile lifting her lips. “I’m Ivy Wright, and it’s lovely to meet you, but you didn’t need to come all the way out here. I look terrible, but I promise—I’m fine.”

  “Why don’t you let Simon be the judge of that, yeah?” Will said.

  She stuck out her tongue, startling a laugh from him.

  “Wills is right,” Simon said, releasing her. “And I know he’d feel better if you’d let me take a look. Besides, he promised me that if I checked out your injury, he’d come back to London for an MRI. And he hates MRIs. He’s practically phobic about them.” Simon grinned. “But he didn’t even hesitate when I told him what my conditions for coming out were.”

  Ivy’s big gray eyes found Will’s, and the smile faded from her face as she studied him. She looked as if she were about to ask him about it, and that wasn’t a conversation he was prepared to have in front of Simon, or at all, really.

  He extended both hands to her and said, “How about if we go into the cottage so Simon can see how your eyes are dilating without all the interference from the sun?”

  Still studying him quietly, she put her hands in his and allowed him to pull her up. He fought the urge to yank her against his body and into his arms as he tugged her to her feet. But if he did that, Simon wouldn’t have a chance to examine her. Because the minute she was pressed against Will, he was fairly certain he’d never be able to stop touching her.

  She released him as soon as she found her footing and bent to pick up the books the kids had left on the ground. Will was unable to tear his gaze away from her arse—an action that didn’t go unnoticed by his friend, who nudged him.

  “How’s the pain?” Simon asked, falling into step beside Ivy as she headed toward the door.

  She grinned at him. “Feels like I took a soccer ball to the face yesterday.” She quickly added, “It’s not terrible unless I touch it or move my head too quickly.”

 

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