In Bounds

by Bronwyn Green

  Peyton’s smile widened. “Oh, I’ve heard you’re much more than that.” Releasing Ivy’s hand, Peyton patted her shoulder. “Don’t fret, ducks. The WAGs love to talk, you know.”

  Ivy must have looked confused because Peyton tilted her toward a group of women sitting nearby and said, “Wives and girlfriends.”

  “Oh.”

  “Sarah and Jill and Estelle have been raving about you. But even before that, I really wanted to meet you and thank you.”

  Ivy’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t think of a single thing Peyton would need to thank her for.

  Peyton laughed and shook her head. “I’m just cocking this all up, aren’t I?”

  “I...don’t know...?” Ivy hazarded.

  “Wills told me that you yelled at him for propositioning you when you thought I was his girlfriend and he was trying to cheat on me.”

  “Oh, that.” Ivy’s face heated. “I was pissed off for the both of us.”

  “Well, a lot of women wouldn’t have said anything to him. A lot of women either wouldn’t have cared about the other woman at all and slept with him anyway or would have only cared that he was trying to two-time them. When he told me about your reaction, I knew then that I wanted to meet you.”

  Peyton folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath, and Ivy immediately tensed. Was this where Peyton was going to tell her that she’d made a mistake, and she was in love with Will, after all? Because, if that was the case, Ivy might as well pack her bags now. There was no way she could compete against someone like Peyton. The woman was so charming and gorgeous Ivy wasn’t even sure Peyton was entirely human.

  “This is a little delicate,” she began.

  Ivy’s heart leapt into her throat and stayed there. This was it. She swallowed and forced her features into the same neutral expression she used with irate parents, and waited for her to finish.

  “Anyway, you know that Will and I have had a long-term casual relationship, right?”

  Ivy nodded.

  “Okay, that’s good. Anyway, I can tell how mad he is about you, and I just don’t want you to ever worry that there will ever be anything between me and Will other than strictly platonic friendship ever again.” She grasped Ivy’s cold, clammy hands and smiled. “You make him happier than I think I’ve ever seen him. I just want you to know that I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

  “Oh.” Ivy felt she should say more, but she couldn’t quite remember how words worked, anymore.

  “And, I’m hoping, that since we’ll probably see a lot of each other—”

  “We will?” Ivy blurted.

  Peyton pointed at the field. “My brother plays, too. Number twenty-four.”

  Ivy’s gaze tracked Peyton’s finger, and as Ivy spotted the other woman’s brother, she also noticed Will staring up at her and Peyton. She couldn’t make out the expression on his face, but his body language looked a little tense.

  “Anyway,” Peyton said, and Ivy turned back toward her. “I was hoping maybe we could get to know each other better. I’d really like for us to become friends.”

  “Really?” Ivy closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. “I need a damn muzzle or something.”

  Peyton grinned. “I can point you in the direction of some lovely ball gags.”

  Her response startled a sharp laugh from Ivy. “I’m sorry. ‘Really’ isn’t what I meant.” She sighed. “Okay, maybe it was. You surprised me. I’m not used to woman not being shitty to each other when a guy is involved.” Her gaze strayed toward the field. “Especially a guy like Will.”

  “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Wills is amazing. On the pitch. Off it. In bed. Out of it. But we were never going to end up together. We were each other’s safe way to experiment and pass time. But we are friends. And I don’t want that to end.”

  A weird, anxious kind of relief filled Ivy. “I don’t want that, either.”

  As much as she was beginning to want her relationship with Will to be something more than it currently was, she knew that couldn’t happen. And as godawful jealous as she’d be knowing it would be happening, she wanted Will to be able to find comfort after this thing they had ended. And if he found it with Peyton, at least Ivy would know he was being well taken care of. Possessiveness twisted a knife in her gut, and she tried not to imagine Will doing any of the same things with Peyton that he’d done with her.

  She cleared her throat. “I’d never want to stand in the way of any of Will’s friendships.”

  Peyton smiled brightly. “The moment he told me about you, I knew you were going to be the one.”

  Ivy shook her head and tried to smile, even though her anxiety was spiking—torn between want and reality. “I think it’s probably too soon for that.”

  Peyton grinned. “Heads up...I’m right more often than I’m not.”

  Ivy couldn’t help but laugh at Peyton’s declaration. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “See that you do.” With a slight tilt of her head, she gestured toward the field. “Have you noticed that the longer we talk the edgier Wills gets?”

  Ivy’s gaze followed Peyton’s to the field. “Should we go put him out of his misery?”

  “I’m happy to let him suffer.” Peyton laughed and stood. “But I’m thinking you’re much more kindhearted than I am.”

  Together, they took the steps down to the railing that separated the field from the seating area. Will immediately jogged toward them, followed by Simon.

  “There’s trouble,” Simon called out as they drew closer.

  The players in earshot laughed and ribbed Will. Ivy could see where having his girlfriend and his sometimes bed partner approaching might seem a little ominous.

  “Hey,” she said as he got close enough for him to hear her without needing to yell.

  “Hey, yourself,” he responded, gorgeous eyes serious as he held her gaze.

  She leaned on the railing and smiled down at him as Simon said, “Well, aren’t you two thick as thieves?”

  Peyton snorted. “Well, aren’t you still an utter tosser?”

  Simon winked at her. “Gotta find my fun somewhere.”

  Will reached up and placed his hands on the railing on either side of Ivy’s, seemingly oblivious to the visual and verbal daggers flying back and forth between Simon and Peyton.

  “Just found out the owners called a team meeting after practice,” Will said. “I’m going to be getting out a lot later than I’d planned on. Do you want to head back to the flat so you’re not stuck here and bored?”

  “It’s fine. I can wait. I’ve got a book.”

  “Or you and I can go out to lunch, and I can either bring you back here or drop you at Will’s,” Peyton said. “Do you like Indian food? I know a place that has great Chicken Tikka.”

  That actually sounded fun. She liked Peyton, and it would be nice to get to know her better. “I do. And I haven’t had it in ages.”

  Will scowled at Peyton. “Oh sure, take away my eye candy and torment me with talk of one of my favorite meals.”

  “If you’re nice,” Ivy said with a smile, “maybe I’ll bring you some for supper.”

  Will pulled himself up on the concrete base the railing was mounted in and murmured, “I’m always nice.”

  She lowered her head until her lips were near his ear. “I think you have nice and filthy mixed up.”

  He laughed, his eyes bright with desire and humor. “Give us a kiss, love.”

  Ivy tried to ignore the fact that there were a lot of eyes on them at the moment and turned her face toward his. He lifted one hand from the railing and slid it beneath her hair. The warmth of his big palm cupping the back of her neck sent shivers down her spine. Pulling her forward, he kissed her soundly, deepening their contact as her lips parted beneath his.

  She recognized the kiss for what it was—a visual show of possession to the guys who’d been shouting and reassurance to her that Peyton’s presence didn’t change anything between the two of
them. Her heart both melted and hurt at the sweetness of the gesture. She’d been trying hard to ignore the reality that she was leaving in less than two weeks. But it was getting harder and harder.

  When he finally broke the kiss, he said, “Let me know if you’re coming back here or if you’ll be waiting at home for me.”

  She nodded and straightened. “I’ll see you in a while.”

  He turned to Peyton. “Hey, P.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Take good care of my girl, yeah?”

  Peyton grinned and looped her arm though Ivy’s.

  “Christ, you’re either the bravest man I ever met,” Simon muttered, “or the stupidest. Letting those two go off together...”

  Will laughed. “I’m not letting them do anything.” He jumped backward off the railing and cuffed Simon across the back of the head. “They’re grown women.”

  “Yeah, well you’re gonna be lucky if—”

  Ivy didn’t hear the rest of what Will’s friend said because she and Peyton were climbing the stairs.

  Peyton muttered, “I swear, if he wasn’t gay, I’d climb him like a fucking tree. Shut him up once and for all.”

  Ivy snorted. There was definitely some tension there.

  They stopped where Sarah was bouncing a fussy Avery on her knee. “You two taking off?” Sarah asked.

  “Heading out for lunch—would you like to come?” Ivy offered.

  “Desperately.” Sarah laughed. “But this one’s getting cranky, and we need to pick up Robbie from school, soon.” She nodded toward the other two kids. “They insisted on coming to watch Daddy at work. And what are they doing?”

  Peyton wrinkled her nose and shuddered. “Eating bugs from the looks of it.”

  Sarah glanced over at the kids. “Fruit snacks, but close enough. And not paying a bit of attention to their dad.” She sighed. “Maybe I can find someone to mind them later in the week, and we can go out for lunch?” Her eyes darted toward the children again as Avery let out a particularly loud shriek. “Or drinks? Drinks would be lovely.”

  Ivy and Peyton both laughed, and Peyton said, “That sounds good. Let us know.”

  As they made their way out of the stadium, Ivy said, “I hope it was okay that I invited Sarah. Sometimes, I open my mouth without thinking.”

  “Absolutely. I adore Sarah. Though...I’m not really a kid person. I think it would be more fun for her—okay, and me—if she had a minder for the wee ones.”

  They both laughed. They also giggled their way through lunch and three glasses of wine apiece. Ivy didn’t know whether to blame the wine or her quickly growing comfort with her new friend for the fact that they were now in a very upscale sex toy shop. Over dessert, Peyton had said that she’d hoped the texted photo of the crop hadn’t offended her. Ivy had tipsily responded that she’d been far more curious than offended. When Peyton had asked if her curiosity had been sated, and Ivy responded that it hadn’t, her new friend announced that they were going shopping.

  There was nothing like being surrounded by all manner of corsets, restraints, implements of pain and dildos to sober one up quickly.

  An attractive young man approached them. “How may I serve you, today?”

  “We’d like to see a sampling of your most popular crops,” Peyton said.

  He returned a few moments later and knelt at Peyton’s feet with five crops offered up to her on upturned palms. Ivy’s lips parted as the man lowered his gaze, keeping his arms extended. She couldn’t help but wonder how Will would react if she knelt and offered him a crop to beat her ass. Arousal squirmed through her body, and she shifted nervously.

  “Would Mistress care to try them on me? We could adjourn to a back room if you’d like privacy.”

  Ivy knew her eyes had to be huge. When Peyton caught her gaze, she burst out laughing at Ivy’s expression. “Some Doms prefer to try tools on willing employees before using them on their subs.”

  Ivy cleared her throat and turned back to the clerk. “Makes sense.”

  “But,” Peyton continued, “since you’re the sub in question...”

  Ivy’s head whipped around.

  Peyton bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I made an assumption about that, and I shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s okay.” Ivy took a breath. “But you’re right. I am the one it’ll be used on.” There was something oddly freeing about admitting that. She wasn’t sure she’d consider herself a sub, but god knew she thoroughly enjoyed the pain and breath play Will had introduced her to. And the restraints. Couldn’t forget about those. And she did really enjoy pleasing him. Did that make her a sub? Did it matter that they hadn’t really defined their relationship in that way?

  Peyton studied her, looking as if she were about to say something significant, but the moment passed. Instead, she said, “You should try them and see which one feels most appealing to you.”

  The man angled his body toward Ivy so she could choose more easily. Swallowing, she picked up the one nearest to her. It felt awkward in her grip, but she smacked the palm of the opposite hand, anyway.

  “You might want to try the inside of your forearm, instead,” Peyton suggested. “Closer approximation of your arse,” she added with a grin.

  Ivy nodded and thwacked her arm.

  Peyton pressed her lips together, clearly trying not to giggle.

  “I know. I suck at this.”

  “You don’t suck. This just isn’t in your comfort zone. You might want to go at it with the kind of force Wills would use.”

  Ivy looked at her and raised her eyebrow. “Really?”

  “What?” Peyton asked.

  “I feel like of the two of us, you’re the one who’d be better versed in that.” She offered the crop to the other woman.

  “Are you sure?” she asked taking hold of the handle.

  “Who knows better, here? You or me?”

  “Fair,” Peyton said. “Hold out your arm.” When Ivy did, Peyton immediately brought the crop down, and a sharp sting sang along her nerve endings.

  Both Ivy and the clerk gasped, and several people stopped their browsing and stared. Ivy’s ever present blush was back, but she ignored her embarrassment as best she could. She wanted to surprise Will, and she needed Peyton’s help to do it. As it was, she was already wet at the thought of him using this on her. What would it be like when it actually happened? That thought vanished as Peyton tried the next one on Ivy.

  After they’d chosen a crop and were on the way to the register, Ivy paused at a display of bustier type corsets. She smoothed her fingers across a forest green brocade.

  “You should get that,” Peyton said. “It would look hot as fuck on you, and Wills would lose his mind.”

  A stab of jealousy pierced her, and Ivy’s hand fell away from the gorgeous fabric.

  “At least try it on. See how it looks,” Peyton said.

  Frowning, Ivy turned to her. “I don’t want this to come out wrong, because I like you and I really do appreciate your help, but...”

  “But?” Peyton prodded.

  “But I don’t want to recreate your relationship with him,” she said in a rush.

  Peyton grinned. “Then this,” she said, lifting it off the rack, “isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

  Ivy stood there, stupidly staring at Peyton.

  “He asked,” she clarified. “And I told him no. I told him it was because I didn’t like them. But really, I was just too vain to admit that they didn’t look good on me.” She held the garment up to Ivy and scanned up and down the length of her. “But you? You’ve got the perfect body for this.” A protest rose to Ivy’s lips, but before she could voice it, Peyton said, “Trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Starving and his body aching, Will trudged up the steps to his flat and unlocked the door. He’d gotten a text from Ivy an hour ago telling him she’d be waiting at home and she’d picked up Chicken Tikka from the restaurant for him for supper. He was so damn sore and tired, he could ba
rely think straight. If Ivy wasn’t there, he wouldn’t even bother eating. He’d just fall straight into bed and call it a night. But Ivy was here—at least, for a few more days—and he wasn’t going to waste a minute with her.

  He was dying to know how lunch with Peyton had gone. Even without Ivy’s insecurities, it seemed that most women found Peyton intimidating—at least until they took the time to get to know her. He hoped that Ivy would give Peyton a chance and that Peyton wouldn’t inadvertently make Ivy feel bad. P would never do something like that on purpose, but god knew, the woman could be overwhelming.

  And if he were honest with himself, there was part of him that worried about whatever Peyton might have told Ivy about him. He’d meant it when he said they were grown women who could make their own decisions about who they wanted to spend time with. He just hoped, that at the end of the night, his relationships with both Ivy and Peyton were still intact. He knew he was being ridiculous. But there was something about a current lover and a past lover getting together that made a man feel more than a little vulnerable.

  He unlocked the door and pushed it open. The house smelled amazing. The scents of garlic, clove, and ginger filled the air, and underneath that, he thought he smelled apples and cinnamon. He rounded the corner and spotted Ivy humming to herself and checking the rice maker steaming away on the countertop.

  Even though he was the one who usually cooked for them, there was something incredibly satisfying about seeing her in his kitchen. She looked like she belonged there. Not necessarily in the kitchen preparing food for him. But she looked like she belonged in his home. She belonged in his life. The realization settled warmly in his chest.

  Bending over, she opened the oven and pulled out a pan of something and set it on the stovetop to cool. She’d changed her clothes since she’d been home. Instead of the jeans and t-shirt she’d worn to the arena, she now had on a long skirt and a jumper.

  Turning, she caught sight of him and startled, bringing her hand up to her chest. “How long have you been standing there?”