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

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.

Where should she start? Whenever she looked at Eric, she wanted to be naked, arching her back and begging for his stiff, hard cock or bending over his lap, preparing to be spanked. His strong hands fascinated her. His grip would be unyielding, as he pinned her against his knee. She sighed, imagining one of his calloused palms coming down hard on her ass.

She shifted in the booth as her ass tingled.

“Jillian, if you want my…help…you have to trust me,” Eric breathed.

“I can’t explain. It’s like I have an ache for you, for your hands…” She bit her lips, fighting mortification. “It’s kinky.”

Eric’s teeth grazed her earlobe, ending in a rough pinch. Sharp shards of desire pricked her thighs. She sucked in.

“Trust me, Jillian,” he murmured. “Tell me how you ache for me.”

Eric bent and rubbed his mouth against her neck. His soft lips contrasted with his iron grip. He brushed a long, biting kiss from her nape to her shoulder. She almost moaned aloud as he drew his other hand across her stomach. His breath scattered chills across her heated flesh. Of their own accord, her legs relaxed and fell open.

God, it was happening…it was truly happening. And, it was better than she had even fantasized.

Hot desire radiated from her hips pumping her with courage and certainty. Her need, perhaps, wasn’t quite normal, but she was safe with Eric. She’d made her choice.

“I want you in me, Eric. But more than that, I want you on top of me, I want you to take command of me…I want you to pull me over your knee…” she took a deep breath, “…and spank me.”

Eric growled as he nestled her body against the wall so his back and the booth sheltered her from view. He splayed his hand across her ribs and nestled his thumb between her breasts. He pressed her back into the crook of his arm.

His hands were warm. His breath tickled and aroused her.

“This will change things.” He lightly bit her neck. “Are you sure you want to go there?”

“God, yes.” She wanted his fingers to soothe her erect and aching nipples.

His laugh rumbled deep in his chest. She twisted in his grasp, but he dug his fingers into her waist, keeping her firmly in place.

“Shh, shh, Jillie,” he coaxed. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m fucking amazed, that’s all. You asked for what you wanted, like a good girl should.”

Being called a ‘good girl’ sent a surge of elation through her, heightening every sense. Scalding heat lit her clit. Her pussy felt like fire…no, not fire…lava…fucking molten lava. She gasped and hid her face against his chest.

“Open your legs for me, Jil.”

Her legs fell apart. Fabric caressed her skin as Eric crinkled her dress in his fist. Inch by slow inch, he exposed her, though his body kept their activities private.

She and Christina—Lisa’s other bridesmaid—had worn thigh-high stockings and gone panty-less during the wedding. They had both planned seductions and wanted to heighten their anticipation. Now, Jillie was glad—so glad. She ached to feel Eric’s fingers stroke her engorged clit.

“Ah, yeah.”

His chest vibrated with a carnal hum of lust when he realized she was bare. He slid his fingers—quick and light—against her wetness. She rode the sensation, shivering.

“You are so hot, Jil,” he whispered. “I can feel how wet you are.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She parted her lips and closed her eyes. His hands felt so good.
At last
. Thank God they were in the back corner and the table was bolted to the floor.

She moaned, low and quiet. Again, Eric pressed his lips to her ear. “I want you to come for me. No one can see.”

He breathed in unison with her. Tension climbed down her legs and spiraled up through her stiffened nipples. She wanted to come…she’d waited so long. She pulsed there, just at the edge of release, but needing something more.

“Talk to me Eric, please.”

“Let go, Jillie. Come for me. That’s it…”

He pinched a nipple through her dress and she whimpered.

“I want you to come. Now.”

His words, whispered in a rush of heated breath, triggered her orgasm. She pressed her head back into his chest and twisted. All the tension that had coiled deep in her belly exploded in vibrating tremors of warm pleasure. Gasping, she allowed her climax to wash over her. It sank through her body like wet waves on dry sand, shaking her to the core. She quivered in his arms.

She tilted toward him, curling her legs up onto his lap. She panted as the after-shock trickled down her legs and up her spine. How could she have just come, and still crave him? She rocked one thigh gently up toward his stomach, not stopping until her fingers met his bulge.

She wanted to slide his cock between her fingers. She wanted to feel his soft, stretched skin against her hands. She wanted to cup his balls, flick her tongue over his twitching head, and listen to him groan with the kind of pleasure he had just given.

Eric grabbed her hand.

“Soon enough, Jillie,” he said with the confidence of a man who knows what he has to offer.

“When?” she asked, her voice heavy with need.

“I want to take you home right now, but I have a few things I have to do first,” Eric grasped her by the chin. “Meet me at my place in about two hours.”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Oh, and change your dress.”

“Definitely!” she laughed.

“I’ll pay,” Eric leaned forward to remove his wallet from his back pocket. “You go back to the hotel and get changed. I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you.” Her breath hitched.

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.” He gave her a lopsided smile.
“Yet.”

****

Dirt crackled under Jillian’s tires as she pulled into Eric’s drive. Her headlights lit the darkness, spilling through the hot, humid night and lighting the simple lines of Eric’s lakefront log cabin.

In high school, their group of friends had spent many lazy Saturdays either lounging on the public beaches in this area or swimming in the cedar water. She turned off the ignition and admired his home.

As a successful architect, he’d renovated the house to his taste and the cabin served as office, home and advertisement. Pride swelled in her chest; he was a man who went after what he wanted. Now, he wanted her.

She pulled back her shoulders, smiled, and opened her car door.

The hot Jersey night engulfed her, stealing her breath. The air was alive with the chirping of crickets and other night creatures. She wriggled her toes in her flip-flops, and then decided to slip her shoes off altogether. The gravel warmed her feet.

Tonight is all about sensation
.

Her cunny’s ache intensified. Earlier, she’d tried to ease her desire with a shower head. Although the pulsing warm water of the massage function brought her to shivering orgasm, her frustration had quickly returned. She just couldn’t seem to come enough. Strange—usually it took a while for her to ramp back up after an orgasm. However, she’d had two this evening and she wasn’t even close to satisfied.

She walked toward the door, swinging her flip-flops and swaying. Her cotton sundress swirled around her. With nothing but a pair of light pink panties beneath, every movement felt sensual, womanly.

Once on the porch, she rang the bell and waited with a small, seductive smile playing across her lips.

As he approached the door, she could see him silhouetted through the curtain, and wondered what he’d be wearing. They were shielded from the neighbors by the scrubby pines, so it was possible he’d be naked. Her heart beat a little faster.

He opened up the door: jeans and a
linen button-down shirt. Not naked, but nice. At least he’d rolled up his sleeves. She was a sucker for a rippling forearm.

“Wine?” he asked in greeting.

She grinned. “Yes, thank you.” As she followed him into his kitchen, she murmured, “Your driveway is warm.”

He stopped and pivoted. His eyes were smiling as he noticed her bare feet.

“You walked barefoot across the gravel?”

“Yup,” she answered.

“Impressive pain tolerance,” he chuckled.

She laughed too, but she felt a blush creep up her neck.

He seemed taller than she remembered. Was that possible? No, of course it wasn’t. He was about to take possession of her body and everything about him radiated masculine power and confidence, making him loom large.

She slid onto a stool by his kitchen bar. His forearm flexed as he poured her drink. Her heart pattered like a hard August rain. She couldn’t believe she was so nervous. This was Eric! Still, as he sauntered toward her and handed her a glass, her body trembled with a delicious mix of fear and excitement. He looked every inch a man in charge.

She took a sip of her wine: cold, wet, and welcome.

“Aren’t you going to have a drink, too?” she asked.

“No, I need―” He puckered his lips, and then smiled. “―to concentrate. But I thought some wine might help you relax.”

She snorted. “Got Vodka?”

He laughed low. “I don’t want you to get too relaxed…” He re-corked the wine and bent, sliding it into his fridge.

Nice ass.
“This is a little strange,” she coughed.

He rounded the counter and stood behind her. His stomach heated the small of her back as he gripped her shoulders and massaged. The strong iron of his fingers eased her tension with deep, precise circles.

“Of course it’s strange, Jil. You’re still on board though, right?”

She caught one of his hands, rubbed his fingers against her cheek and then guided his palm back to her shoulder.

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”

The wine—and Eric’s hands—warmed. He molded her muscles and, little by little, she sank backward against his chest until her only thoughts were of his body and where his hands might go next.

“Better?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and rolled her head against his heartbeat.

“Ummm,” was all she could
manage.

****

Eric admired his view. Jillian hadn’t worn a bra, and, from this angle, her soft breasts peeked from her dress, teasing. She was hotter than she’d ever been—and he’d been lusting after her for years.

She had spent all week using any excuse to touch him. He’d suspected she was building to something and had even hoped to
night would end with some long-overdue action. But he couldn’t have guessed what she had planned. She’d thrown one hell of a curve ball.