Bound to Surrender (South Jersey Bound Series) (2 page)

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.”

Her breath caught and she swallowed.

“Mr. Walker, you really don’t have to pay for me,” she forced herself to say.

“But I want to,” Bryce purred, taking his own cone and handing the clerk cash. “Besides, it’s your birthday.”

Bryce placed a warm hand on the small of her back and guided her toward one of the shop’s small tables. She missed his touch when she sat. He slid in across from her.

“Happy birthday, Ms. Welch,” he said, his voice low as he leaned forward. “Any birthday wishes I could grant?”

His eyes challenged her to respond.

She swallowed a lick of ice cream and a cold sensation slid into her belly. Bryce was strong, virile, and clearly interested. Why had she kept him at arm’s length?

Work. Michael. Oh yes, and the uncontrollable flame he stokes in my quim.

Just as she was about to slow the whole thing down, her mind rebelled. Too much denial, it screamed, too much restraint. What harm could a little flirtation cause? She practically salivated with the need to seize what he was offering.

“A wish, Ms. Welch?” Bryce prompted.

“Mr. Walker,” she asked as her throat dried, “are you flirting with me?

****

Bryce winked and lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.
Was beer better cold?

“I could be,” he said.

Christina’s even, steady gaze set his pulse racing almost as fast as the sight of her ass at cock-level. If given the chance, he’d lay her down and pound the living daylights out of her sweet, hot pussy. He found every inch of her face kissable—her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, and the corners of her full, pink lips. But he wanted more than just a good lay.

Perhaps that was the real reason he’d been avoiding her for so long.

Bells rang as a group of teens entered. Christina sucked in. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in the direction of the kids. Turning, he recognized a few of their students.

“Got it,” he said reluctantly. Seduction would have to wait. “We’ll continue that conversation later.”

“Thanks.”

Subtle tension drained from her shoulders. His grin returned. Sharing a secret was kind of fun, even if the teens were too occupied with one another to spare them a glance.

“So, how’s Michael?” Bryce asked, reclining into his chair.

A shadow of sadness passed over her features. “Michael’s with his father for the summer.”

“Ah.” He got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about her son’s absence. “Your kid’s got a hell of a swing.”

“Yeah.”
Christina smiled wide. “He loved being on your team, by the way. You’re all he can talk about—Mr. Walker this and Mr. Walker that. He’s going to miss you next year.”

“The feeling is mutual. The team won’t be the same without him. Boarding school is it?”

She nodded. “I held off through his freshman year, but Michael decided he wanted to give his dad’s alma mater a try.” She sighed pensively. “Now that he’s going, I wish I had made more of his games.”

Bryce raised his eyebrows, surprised she’d feel guilty. Most parents hadn’t shown up at all.

“You came to every home game we played,” he replied. He’d been acutely aware of her presence in the stands, particularly when a win had made his testosterone run high.

“I wish I could have made a few of the away ones as well,” she said. “But, the library renovation made leaving early impossible.”

“Are things going well on that account?” he asked.

She nodded. “When we’re done, we’ll have the best technology lab in South Jersey. Kids grow up with the stuff now, and it’s so important to show them technology can be more than entertainment. It’s essential to education, to research...” Her voice trailed.

“Don’t stop,” he urged.

She lowered her head and glanced up through her lashes. “I get kind of passionate.”

“I’ll bet you do.”

She blinked, wetting her lower lip. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then glanced down and wrinkled her nose. “I’m melting.”

“So I see,” he replied, popping the last of his cone into his mouth.

She caught a threatening drip with her tongue.

Bryce unfolded his legs as she licked. She pressed her lips to the lower edge—just where the ice cream disappeared into the cone.

The three bucks her ice cream had cost had been the best money he’d spent in years.

He told himself to look back out at the road, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her mouth. She looked up and blushed.
Actually blushed.
His pulse thudded inside his cock.

It was on, baby.
Time to reel her in.

Bells clanged again and then, after the teens made their noisy way out, the shop grew quiet.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he commented with more breath than he intended.

“I am, actually.”

“I could watch you eat…anything.”

When she smiled, her eyes sparkled.

“So, what brought you to the ice cream shop, Mr. Walker?” Christina asked, resting her elbows on the table and curving toward him. “I’ve never seen you in here before.”

Bryce wondered if she knew how her shirt gaped, revealing the pale, smooth swell of her breasts. He glanced up, watching a sensual smile curve her lips. She knew, alright.

He gazed out the window. The sun glinted off freshly washed cars rolling along Stokes Road. “My air conditioner is broken,” he said, voice cracking.

“Really?”

Her throaty purr made him glance back. She tilted her head and swirled the cone against her mouth, finishing the ice cream. Then, she slowly licked her lips clean.

Why the hell had he taken off those sunglasses?

“Must be sweltering back at your place,” she said.

“Yeah.
I was, uh, on my way back from the gym and ice cream seemed...” What was it he wanted to say? “...like a good idea.”

Clearly, blood had left the articulate part of his brain.

He could just about make out the edge of Christina’s bra—delicate, light pink lace. Did her panties match? Would she wear a thong or a lacy brief?

Brief.
Definitely brief. Possibly sheer.

He rubbed his knee and leaned back.

“Mmmm….fantastic.” She popped the last of her cone into her mouth and hummed. “Must be awful to be without air conditioning—it’s at least one hundred.”

“One hundred and five, actually.
I heard on the gym radio that it’s not supposed to go down past ninety tonight.”

She shook her head and scowled.
“Too hot to sleep. You could check into one of those hotels on seventy-three—there’s a zillion of them,” she said in a light, careless tone, though her serious gaze was fixed on his. Was she probing for his plans?

“I
was
planning to head to the mall and pick up a new unit.”

He refused to be the first to look away. The brandy
-gold color of her eyes shaded darker around the edges as she smiled like the damn Mona Lisa.

“I have a better idea,” she said, as if the thought just occurred. “How about you come to my place for a drink? I have sangria.”

He swallowed. He’d been angling for an invite, and his palms tingled with anticipation. He didn’t want to assume sex, but her body emitted raw need his cock was aching to answer.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“It’s my birthday, I want to celebrate.” She peeked through her lashes and smirked. “Maybe after a drink or two, I will answer your question.”

He cleared his throat. “What question was that?”

“You asked if I had a wish you could grant,” she said, low and sultry.

His head grew dizzy and light as all his blood flowed in one direction.
“Sounds good to me.”

She pushed back her chair. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

“You are very welcome.” He stood and placed out his arm. “After you...”

“I’m in Deer Hollow development, number two, twenty-one,” she said. “Do you know where it is?”

“Sure, but I thought I’d follow you.”

“You can’t,” she replied as they reached the exit.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“Because first, you need to go buy some condoms.”
She turned away and pushed open the door.

Condoms.
Plural.
Sudden heat burned Bryce’s skin.

****

Ice clinked as Christina sipped her sangria. She stretched out her legs. Not bad, for thirty-something legs.

How she and Mr. Walker had both ended up on her floor, she wasn’t quite sure. Bryce sprawled across her carpet, his jeans stretched taut over his muscled thighs—
sigh
—so
hot.
She wasn’t going to give up her view.

She attempted to summon her inner censor. But nothing inside was gonna agree that sex would be wrong...hasty. Having Bryce in her home set her body on fire, and she loved the smolder.

He leaned on his elbow. His inscrutable hazel eyes patiently drank her in. She squelched a nervous smile and drank deep from her glass, admiring his chest’s athletic taper. The drink, she decided, had been a marvelous idea. Each mouthful cooled her inhibitions and heightened the swirling, pleasant, ‘floaty’ feeling.

She’d been full of marvelous ideas today, hadn’t she? An ice cream, an impromptu birthday party, and her own private present in the form of a beautifully muscled English teacher/baseball coach.

He chewed his lip and her ‘floaty’ feeling condensed into an inner thigh throb.

Why the hell hadn’t he made a move? The small package of condoms resting on her counter served as a clear reminder of both their expectations. But he hadn’t so much as reached for her neck
.

He waited, unhurried. If only she could quell the sensation that she was about to be devoured,
she
would get things started.

She suspected sex would be different with Bryce...hotter...more unrestrained. And though the thought struck fear into her belly, his animal draw was also the reason she’d grown bold enough to invite him over.

She needed a good, hard fuck, damn it.

She’d spent hours and hours watching him coach. Despite his dangerous air, his patience with the kids had given her a measure of trust she couldn’t hope to achieve in a few dates with a stranger.

All right, already.
She set aside her drink and inched closer. “This thing between us has been building for months.”

“True,” he replied.

Energy prowled in his thick, musky scent. One small signal and he would pounce. Pin-pricks of expectancy danced up her spine and her mound throbbed, heavy with arousal. She checked her gut: still certain.