by Tess Lamont
He smiled ruefully—an eighteen-year-old’s wood was damn hard to get rid of. That night, it had taken him a long time to get to sleep in a bunk room with ten other guys.
Even a kiss had been just a fantasy then. He’d watched her burn through strings of admirers. He’d been too worried he’d fuck up their friendship if he told her how he felt. A break up would have meant parting their small group of friends. And change enough had been in store for them all.
He folded his arms across his chest.
Maybe something within him had warned him to wait. They had lives to build, different directions to take. They had needed time to mature…apart from each other.
The eggs sizzled. He snapped back to the present.
So, what is next? He picked up the pan and swirled.
They supported one another, trusted and cared for another, and now… He bristled at the thought of her with any other man.
After sliding the finished eggs onto a dish, he covered them and leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee.
She had to be in his life. He could try and deny it, but what would be the point? Forever had snuck up on him last night.
Marriage ceased to be a scary prospect long ago. In fact, he’d already drawn up plans to expand the cabin, but he just hadn’t had a reason to continue the renovations. He’d almost slipped up and told her about his planned addition in the bathroom this morning. He stopped himself though, because she was acting very un-Jillie like, very skittish. She wouldn’t have believed he was ready to settle down.
The door rattled as she stepped inside.
“Hey, there,” he said softly.
She smiled. She was sweet as summer fruit and just as luscious.
“Hi.” Her gaze was fixed on the stove.
“I made you eggs.”
“Thanks. I haven’t had eggs for breakfast in a long time. I’m a terrible cook. I burn everything.”
“That’s fine.” He shrugged. “I rock.” Whoops. He’d unintentionally hinted at the future he’d been envisioning.
“Your humility is impressive,” she laughed, though her eyebrows were raised.
“If you think my humility is impressive, you should try my eggs,” he joked.
She eased onto a stool at the counter. He dished out their servings, and then he grabbed two forks and hit the drawer closed with his hip. He sat down by her side.
Nope, no doubt. She belonged there. He slid his fork over to her plate and scooped up a forkful of her food.
“Hey!” she said.
He hovered the fork near her mouth, circling in front of her lips. “Open.”
“Eric, I think I can feed myself.”
“Of course you can, love,” he coaxed. “Humor me.”
****
Jillian closed her eyes and savored the taste of Eric’s eggs. He wasn’t kidding. The eggs were delicious. He’d added something…fresh rosemary, maybe? Damn, he was good cook, too. He was definitely going to break her heart.
“When I’m not traveling, I’ll make you breakfast every morning.”
His voice was so low; she told herself for a split-second that he hadn’t said what she thought he said.
She swallowed with difficulty. “What was that?”
He had a calm but searching expression in his beautiful, green eyes.
“When you move in, I’ll cook. It relaxes me. Cooking, that is. But you relax me, too.”
Breathe. Her emotions blared at full volume and she didn’t trust herself to acknowledge what he had said. She took the fork from his hand.
“Your eggs are good,” she squeaked.
He stared at her for a long, hard moment, and then turned abruptly and shoveled a forkful in his mouth.
“Yup, not bad,” he said. “I told you so.”
She peeked at him. His face was so familiar, yet almost new. If you want him, go and get him. Warm affection stole over her like night-mist, and her eyes started to fill. She sniffled and he jerked back.
“What is it, baby?” he asked, his face full of alarm.
“It’s just,” she hesitated, “I’m scared. Last night was pretty wild.”
“This morning, too,” he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes and slumped. “Unhelpful.”
He lifted her face.
“We have this thing between us. It’s fun, it’s interesting, and it’s hot. But it’s not everything. We have our friendship, too.”
She motioned to the living room. “There was more than just role-play in there.”
His eyes glittered and he didn’t deny it.
“I liked spanking you,” he said. “And, yes, maybe I liked taking charge more than I expected.” He took both of her hands into his before continuing, “Your happiness, though, is as important to me as my own. I’m pretty certain one depends on the other.”
“I’m pretty independent.” She glanced at her hands. “Most of the time, that is.”
“Be whatever you want to be, out there. Do whatever you want to do. I’ll cheer you on. But in here,” he placed his hand over her heart, “beats the heart of a submissive. What’s more, last night you granted its keeping to me.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “I’m not sure what that means.”
He shrugged. “To be honest, neither do I… Yet. We’ll learn. I intend to find out. I don’t want to let this go.”
“I don’t want to tie you down,” she said.
“Funny, I very much want to tie you down.”
“Don’t joke.”
“It may be a double entendre, but both meanings are true. If you don’t believe that I’m ready to settle down, I can prove it. I have plans for a second renovation upstairs to expand this place into a house for two…or more.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”
“Yes, really. We’ll work it out,” he said confidently. He grabbed her wrist pulled her into an embrace. “Look, last night, we got it all wrong at first, But we tried again and we figured out what was right for us.”
She smiled weakly, but her heart warmed. “True.”
They couldn’t have all the answers just yet. When he held her the way he did, she thought they had enough.
“I think I may love you,” she said.
“I already know you do,” he replied.
She sighed and shook her head. “And you said I sass.”
He grinned. “What’s more,” he added, “I know I love you.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“You’re smart, fun and easy to talk to, not to mention hot and wild.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before resting his cheek against her hair. “But mostly because you’ve been the most important person in my life since we were kids.”
He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“So, what do you say Jillian Louisa Daniels…?”
The slight crack in his voice melted her heart.
“Do you want to jump through the rabbit hole with me?” he asked.
“Yes.” Breathless, she wove her arms around his neck and curled her fingers into his hair. “Yes, yes, yes.”
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ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TESS LAMONT:
Novella 1: Bound to Be Mine, 51 pages
Novella 2: Bound to Surrender, 72 pages
Novella 3: Bound to Ignite, 55 pages
Gotta have them all? Click here: Tess Lamont's Amazon Author Page
EXCERPTS & BLURBS
Bound to Be Mine
Lisa Emery had everything: a lucrative job and the perfect man at home—her master. Together, they were exploring the darker side of passion and both seemed to bloom with the knowledge. She had never understood why he suddenly disappeared just when things were going so well. And she didn’t understand why he was back.
Ben Johnson knew the “life” he and Lisa had been living was wrong...just knew it. Something that felt that good couldn’t be right. According to the help he’d sought, “only by atoning for your wrongs could you really
grow and change as a person.” So, he was back to atone. Why then, after so many months apart, did he still need to dominate Lisa, to bend her to his will and give in to his baser instincts? And why, after all this time, did she want him to?
Excerpt from Bound to be Mine:
This would be so much easier, if only her little pursed lips weren’t so fucking kissable. If only he couldn’t so vividly remember those lips wrapped firmly around his cock.
“The way I see it,” she said, “if I hear you out, you have everything to gain while I get nothing for my trouble.” She swept her hand, encompassing the length of her apartment. “All this, I did without you, despite you…why should I hear you out?”
“You could heal…” he suggested.
“Heal,” she snorted. “Who are you? I would’ve bet my Grand Prix against you ever saying the word heal in reference to a relationship.”
“Have you read my journal?” he asked impatiently.
Her skin flushed. Light burgundy spread down her chest, disappearing into the maddeningly loose folds of her robe. She was angry, yes, but the shade of her flush told him she was aroused. He would bet his life on it, screw the Grand Prix. He knew every inch of her body. Hell, he could write a dictionary to define the meaning of her every sigh, every subtle movement, every shade of her beautiful, pale skin.
“I read it in part,” she replied, although he heard her hesitation and knew she lied.
He drank the last of his beer—the fastest one he’d ever finished—and walked to the couch, hands stuffed safely in his pockets. He needed to do this quickly, like ripping a band-aid off a wound. Then, he’d get the hell out.
“I am sorry I hurt you.” The words tumbled out.
She opened and then closed her mouth…twice.
“Damn it,” she said. She inhaled as her eyes started to fill.
Even a saint would have fallen for the look she gave him. He moved on instinct, sinking to his knees and drawing her into his arms. Fuck, she felt good. He cuddled her close to comfort…only to comfort.
“I’m a bastard, I know,” he said. “But I’m getting better. I’m trying to get better.”
Her hands crept into his hair.
“You are a bastard, a selfish, rotten bastard,” she replied, sniffing. “But I want you anyway.”
Her words shot straight to his cock. I am powerless over my addiction.
Her palm’s heat against his hair drove out coherent thought. Her body’s weight rested on his shoulders, completing him, and yet stirring his need for a deeper connection.
He closed his eyes and searched his soul for the right thing to do.
Her lips touched his, feather-light.
Powerless… Ben whispered into the darkness of his heart, but no higher power answered. Lisa was his only beacon, his only light. His longing surged toward her with an ocean-tide’s unstoppable strength.
Gotta have it? Click here: Tess Lamont's Amazon Author Page
Bound to Surrender
Though single motherhood taught Christina Welch ruthless self-denial, in her heart she secretly craves a man who'll drive her wild in bed. Now that her son is spending the summer with his father, and she can't keep her mind off the one man who has haunted her dreams all year long: her son's baseball coach.
Bryce Walker lusts after the sexy librarian who never missed one of her son's home games. Respect and caution hold him back, but every time she peeks at him under her lashes, instinct tells him she needs what he has to offer.
When Bryce meets Christina by chance on her birthday, desire smolders hotter than the early summer heat wave. He buys her ice cream, but they both know only one thing will cool them down. As Bryce leads Christina into the a world of sensual pain and pleasure, she discovers heights of emotion she never knew existed. She learns to trust Bryce with her body, but can she trust him with her heart? Summer doesn't last forever, and Christina must decide…
Excerpt from Bound to Surrender:
With a bolt of awareness, Christina recognized Bryce Walker’s throaty baritone. As always, his voice sent chills up her legs. When she glanced sideways, the muscles behind her knees weakened.
Eyes like his should be illegal.
Her reaction to Mr. Walker was the exact reason that she’d avoided the man for months. Damn hormones. She could not control her body’s response to him, no matter how hard she tried. Every time they were within ten feet of one another, a shiver started somewhere behind her lower ribs and slithered down, pulsing in her sex and, eventually, forcing her to seek release—either by distraction or, more frequently, in the privacy of her bedroom with the help of her vibrator.
She only had to look at Bryce to know he was not a man to be trifled with. She’d had her fill of overbearing males, thank-you-very-much.
…but if I were you, I’d be more adventurous.
His mischievous, sexy-as-hell smile stopped just beneath his sunglasses.
Christina recognized his double-entendre, but offense would have been an act. Her body drummed the truth: she wanted nothing more than to pick up what he was putting down.
Screw it.
“Why hello, Mr. Walker,” she said, in her best librarian-voice. “I thank you for your advice, but I’d never consider vanilla.” She lifted an eyebrow. Their eyes locked and the pulse in her sex began.
Bells clanged as another customer entered the shop. She turned back to the server.
“Maple walnut, please,” she said, correcting her posture and straightening her skirt.
“Cup or cone?” the teenage clerk droned.
Bryce was standing way too close. His heat radiated through her blouse, contrasting with the cool sensation of the counter against her belly.
“Cone, thank you.” On impulse she added, “and you know what else I want? Jimmies.”
The clerk nodded, not bothering to glance up as he prepared her order.
Bryce cocked his deliciously masculine head to one side. “Feeling reckless, Ms. Welch?”
She shook her head no. “Indulgent, more like. Today is my birthday.”
She wrinkled her nose. Why had she told him?
“In that case―” Bryce turned and spoke to the clerk. “I’ll pay for the lady.”
She thought of refusing, but to tell the truth, his gesture made her feel ridiculously pleased. Giddy even. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought her ice cream.
The clerk handed Christina her maple-walnut. “You want something?” he asked Bryce.
“Yeah,” Bryce smirked, “a single cone of vanilla.”
“Hey,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a vanilla man. I thought you said to try other flavors...”
“Oh, I’ve tried other flavors,” he replied. “Once I know what I like, though, I stick with it.”
Gotta have it? Click here: Tess Lamont's Amazon Author Page
Bound to Ignite
Gillian Daniels keeps a secret buried deep in her heart: she craves an erotic spanking. When a friend’s wedding reunites her with the man who first ignited her fantasies, she can no longer deny her desire. Though Gillie has been friends with Eric since high school. She knows he'll never settle down and she'd never be stupid enough to fall under his spell. She's certain, however, that for one night, he'd be willing to make her darkest desires come true.
Eric has wanted Gillian in his bed and in his life for longer than he cares to remember. But she throws him a hell of a curve ball: she wants him to spank her. The idea makes him hot and ready, but contrary to Gillie’s belief, he’s never been involved in that lifestyle before.
Through the night, Gillie and Eric sink deep into the “game” and the bond between them strengthens. Eric never intended for this to be a one-night stand, but as he experiences Gillie's willing submission, his “dom” instinct is roused and he's even less willing to let her go. In the bright light of morning, will their bond be strong enough for Gillie to trust?
Excerpt from Bound to Ignite:
“You kno
w, Eric, sometimes I find myself just a little bit curious. I wonder what it’d be like to play like Lisa and Ben play.”
Her mouth dried. His arm tensed under her hand. He glanced to the side and surveyed the mostly empty diner.
She kept her gaze on him, knowing no one could hear them. She’d slipped a twenty to the hostess on the way in, just to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed. She held her breath until Eric’s dilating eyes returned to hers. The soft flesh between her breasts quivered.
“I suppose every couple is different,” he replied, betraying nothing.
“My fantasies make me hot. And…and I was wondering if,” breathe, “you would be interested in helping me fulfill a fantasy?”
He blinked a few times before clearing his throat.
“Are you asking…if I would…if you and I could…?” His eyebrows were high and his voice sounded low and gravelly.
She nodded, never breaking eye contact. She shivered from her spine down to her hips as Eric searched her face. She left herself open, tilting her chin. Emotions played on his features, thoughts she couldn’t hope to read and, if she were honest, didn’t really want to understand.
Of course, their situation was complicated. Of course, sex would change things. Those details didn’t concern her, not anymore. She would have him, even if she had him just for one night.
“Jillian, I—” He looked away.
“Don’t.” She gripped his arm.
He stiffened. Panic jolted in her belly. She let go.
Consent couldn’t be forced. She shoved her hands back under the table so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again.
“Eric,” she made her voice even and sure, “I don’t want any promises, really, I don’t. I don’t want to talk about the past or the future—not even next week or next month. I just need one night. I need this. It’s all I can think about, and,” she took a deep breath, “I think you want it, too.”