Bound to Surrender (South Jersey Bound Series) (11 page)

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.

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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.”

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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 know, 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.”

She’d done it. No matter what he said, things would never be the same.

She looked out across the diner, trying to give Eric time and privacy to think. She closed her eyes. Let him walk out. She did not have to watch.

Her heart jerked as the diner bench creaked. He settled in by her side. Rough heat radiated from his fingertips as he slid them, slowly and lightly, from her cheek to her chin. His knuckle touched the bottom of her chin and urged up her face.

She opened her eyes, and dropped her gaze away from his lingering reserve. A few dark hairs peeked out where his shirt lay open. She imagined how he would look when naked. Dark curls would spread across his chest, tapering off at his taut stomach and then…
Oh God
. She licked her lips. Closing her eyes again, she focused on the sensation of his finger on her chin.

“Tell me more about your needs, Jillian.” His baritone voice broke her reverie.

Light as an eyelash-kiss, his knuckle retraced its path across her cheek. She couldn’t call forth a single sound, though her breath returned in a rush.

There was a vast gap between suggesting a fantasy and actually spelling one out. She edged toward the precipice.

“I…I…” Jillian peeked around him. The diner was empty except for a few old men reading papers at the far counter.

He wrapped one arm around her waist. She snuggled into his hard, athletic body and inhaled. His soothing scent filled her, dissolving the tension from her shoulders. He stroked her hair to a gentle rhythm and effervescent bubbling tingled in her chest like cold champagne.

“Better?” he asked, his lips muffled by her hair.

“Yes,” she sighed. His warmth seeped into her skin and her heartbeat slowed until it matched his, steady and strong.

“Tell me what you want, Jillie. Tell me everything,” he whispered against her ear. His tone held just a hint of command. She sucked in her bottom lip. She loved that tone.

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