Bound to Be His (The Archer Family Book 2) (7 page)

"You okay, man? We need to go to the hospital?" Logan asked.

"Let me see it." Derrick held out his hand, and Matt allowed him to survey the damage. Still, the hurt was already ebbing away. He must have just moved it wrong, got part of the bone that was still healing from the bruise.

"It's fine, okay? Let's just get back to what we were doing."

"I don't think so. After you reinjured yourself last year—" Derrick started, but Matt pulled his arm away.

"I'm already feeling better. Look, I don't want anybody to baby me. I was hurt, but I'm not dead. Everything is going to be okay."

"Let's just go back to the dugout and drink for a bit. We'll get back on the field a little bit later," Logan offered.

"I'm telling you I can do it."

"And I'm telling you I'm not willing to take that kind of risk. Not with you. Not again," Logan said, and because it was his bachelor party, Matt conceded.

The rest of the night carried on without incident, but Matt could still feel the injury hanging over his head like the black cloud it always was in his life. They killed a twelve pack of beer and then headed back onto the field, and though nothing happened, he could still feel the tension in his brother and Logan. Could see all the swings and catches they'd missed that they wouldn't have if they'd been on their game.

Dammit. This was just like his injury to ruin a perfectly good evening.

To ruin a perfectly good career.

By the time it was Matt's turn up to bat, Logan got a drunk call from his bride-to-be and everything was on hold.

"I'm glad you're having a good time," he was saying, and Derrick and Matt looked at each other while they listened to the thunder of their sister's slurring from the receiver.

"You're on your way home?" he asked, and then made a gesture for the guys to pack up. When he hung up, he said, "Sorry, Matt. We'll hit the batting cages soon. I have a feeling the rest of the night is going to involve holding back hair." He grinned.

"And that's the girl you want to marry?" Derrick asked.

"Hell yeah it is." Logan grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

T
hat night
, Matt lay on his bed, opening and closing his palm and waiting for the last of the pain to subside. In the old days, when the injury was fresh, this kind of pain was something he could only dream about—manageable, workable. But now?

Every pang sent his mind whirring back to the phone. The texts from his physical therapist. The call for the majors that he still hadn't gotten.

He rolled over, careful not to put any weight on his hand, and got to his feet.

He'd never paced before, but this seemed like the time for it—when he had a problem that couldn't be solved.

And when Shay still wasn't home...

He pushed that thought away, too. What should it matter to him whether or not Shay got home at a reasonable time? It was a bachelorette party. They should be out all night, and they'd deserve it if they were.

Just so long as it was just the two of them...

He shook his head and turned on his heel. Yes, pacing was good. Pacing at least made him feel like he was doing something instead of just sitting there staring at the ceiling. At least while he was moving he could—

The door burst open and then, just as quick, slammed shut with Shay now leaning against the white door.

"Okay, so we need a couple ground rules." She huffed a strand of her dark hair out of her face.

"Um... hello to you, too?" He stopped short and surveyed her, trying to determine if she was drunk.

She wasn't swaying; her eyes weren't glassy or half-lidded. Her hair was a little haphazard, but it was nothing unmanageable. In fact, if it wasn't for the red glow on her cheeks, she might have looked completely normal.

Normal, of course, in the way that Shay was normal—her slender body wrapped in the slinkiest black dress he'd ever seen. The collar dipped just low enough for him to catch a trace of her cleavage, but then—

He internally shook his head again. Impassive. That was the new stance. Whatever she did, he was impassive.

No matter how fuckable she looked in her shiny red heels.

"We... I'm not sure where to start."

"Probably with an aspirin. Are you drunk?" he asked.

She shook her head furiously. "I stopped drinking hours ago when I finally decided that..."

She trailed off again and then took a deep breath and said, "I just poured Andy into bed. Logan was already asleep."

"Okay." He nodded.

"They're both pretty knocked out. It's just you and me."

The huskiness in her voice gave him pause, but he said, "Good, if we play Yahtzee, I'll know I can yell."

"No. Listen. I... We need some rules."

"Like not barging into my bedroom?" The corner of his mouth quirked up, and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't make me change my mind."

"That's a big ask when I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he said.

She nodded. "Right, right. Well... look, I've been thinking. This thing between us. It's not going away. I don't think it's going to, and I think it's been there for a lot longer than either of us will admit."

He stayed silent, unsure whether to trust whether she really meant what he thought she meant. And if she did...

His gaze flicked to the messy tangle of his sheets. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we need some rules."

"What, like
Pretty Woman
? No kissing?"

"How the hell do you know the rule in
Pretty Woman
?"

"I'm a man. I'm not dead."

She shook her head. "Right. Not important. Rules. We need to, I don't know, agree that whatever we do is confined to our bedrooms. No PDA. We're not a couple."

"So... you want me as your booty call?"

"Yes, I guess. My very secret, temporary booty call."

"How temporary?"

"Just until we're off the island. By then, we'll have all this out of our systems and we can find people we're more compatible with without wondering, you know—"

"What would have happened if we'd slept together more than we already have?"

"Right."

"You know you're crazy, right?"

She nodded. "Yup. Now take off your pants."

M
att laughed
, and stared at her, though he did loop his thumbs through his belt loops hopefully. She couldn’t be serious, though. Not really.

What woman just barged into a man’s room and demanded to have her way with him? No, it was more likely that she was trying to get back at him for something—was trying to get him to strip down and then, when he was totally naked, she’d leave him there and laugh on her way out.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked.

"The end of the joke," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm not joking. Take off your pants."

"Are you sure you're not drunk?" He laughed.

Seh sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, if it's so hard to believe, I'll go first."

Then, incredibly, she reached behind her and started on her zipper. He listened to the gentle zip as it slid down and then the whoosh of flop of fabric as she pulled it over her head and dropped it on the floor.

Then there she was. Shay Meyers in nothing but her bra and panties. Her hair nearly as mussed as the last time he'd laid her down and--

"What happened to this never happening again?" he asked, though he was amazed he could bring himself to speak with the whole of her gorgeous body at his disposal. He bra was one of those push-up things that cinched in the middle with tiny gems beading the hem to show off just how supple the swell of her chest was.

The clasp was in the middle, too.

All he had to do was walk toward her and flick his wrist and she'd be all his. He could watch her pretty pink nipples tighten as he took each of them in his mouth and sucked...

"Is now really the time for questions?" She asked, but she was half smiling. "Now, either take off your pants or I'm going to do it for you."

"I'd like to see you try that." He smiled, but the grin died away as soon as she glanced down at his crotch and her tongue flicked across her upper lip.

Jesus, she was really going to...

But he didn't have time to think about what she was going to do. She was already doing it, walking toward him with those long legs of hers. So close that the wave of her perfume hit him full force and he breathed in deep, remembering how it had tasted on her skin.

Like lavender and coconut. Soothing and sweet and--

She sank to her knees in front of him and then, slowly, unbuckled his belt and whipped it off.

"Give me that," he said.

"Why?"

He held out his hand and he tossed it on the bed behind him as she took his zipper between her teeth and undid it while she gripped his jeans and boxers in one and pulled them down until his length jutted out in front of her. Again, she licked her lips as she studied him, this time greedier than the last.

"You're so big," she whispered, and he was about to reply when she took him in her hand with a firm grip and then circled his head with the tip of her tongue.

As she went, she glanced up at him, her green eyes dilated to the point of nearly being black. A faint smile tilted her mouth, teasing and coy. Like she knew what he wanted. Like she knew exactly how this tormented him.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and she hummed her contentment, though she didn't take him into her mouth. Not yet.

Instead, she licked his shaft, lapping him like an ice cream cone that was just about to drip onto the sidewalk. Up and down she went, slowly at first, then faster until her tits bounced along with the movement and he gripped her hair harder if only to maintain his composure.

"Damn," He groaned, and that teasing smile lit her face again before she took one ball into her mouth and sucked gently, swirling her tongue around him over and over again.

"Fucking shit," He ground out, and he was nearly to the point of demanding her mouth when she finally gave it to him. Not slowly and gently like everything else, but this time full and warm and wet. She took him in until she couldn't take any more, but he was too large for her and she worked the rest of him with her hand as she bobbed and sucked.

"Fuck Shay," he rasped and she moaned, her vibrations making his balls draw up.

He closed his eyes and let himself focus on the warmth of her mouth, the way her tongue teased his delicate skin, the way his cock throbbed inside of her with desperate, aching need.

And still it felt so good. Too good. Better than he'd ever had.

This wasn't the obligatory blowjob of a woman who knew what was expected of her. No, Shay looked like she savored every minute of her work, like she wanted nothing more than to be on her knees taking his cock.

And for that she deserved a reward.

"Get up," he growled, but she ignored him, instead bobbing deep again him and lapping at his shaft.

He pulled her hair gently, "Get up, Shay,"

She pulled away, her mouth red and swollen, a thin line of saliva still connecting her mouth to his aching length.

He took each of her shoulders in hand and lifted her up, then turned her around until he was pressed against the seam of her ass.

"You liked sucking my cock, didn't you?" he whispered and she nodded, her hair bristling against his face.

"I want to hear you say it," he urged.

"I loved sucking your cock," she whispered back in a deep husky voice he'd only heard once before.

"Good," He snaked an arm around her middle then walked his fingers down to the space he knew was wet and waiting for him. Dipping his hand under the soft, thin fabric, he brushed against her mound and found the spot he knew she wanted him to touch.

"Oh," She gasped.

"Now tell me you want me to fuck you," he said.

"You can fuck me when I'm finished sucking your cock." She tried to sink to her knees again, but he caught her and twisted her around to face him. When their lips were only inches apart, he said, "Good thing you're not the one who makes the rules tonight."

He led her back until her back met with the wall, then pushed her panties aside and thrust hard and deep inside. He was done with the slow, gentle back and forth. Done with the cat and mouse game.

He grabbed her hair and pulled, shoving himself inside her over and over until she slammed against the wall and made the pictures shake. If she minded, it wasn’t clear to him. Instead, she whimpered and gasped, the tiny noises in the back of her throat begging him for more.

He gripped her leg and raised it higher, wrapping it around his waist so that he could push even deeper, even harder.

“Yeah, Shay,” he said, and she moaned back in response.

With his free hand, he pushed his fingers down the front of her panties again and rubbed her hard, swollen clit until her little moans of “oh” became long, protracted cries of need.

He forgot about his sister, his friend, hell, he forgot about the rest of the world. All he wanted right now was Shay. The sound of Shay in his ears. The smell of Shay on the air. The feel of her wet pussy around his cock and then the taste of her lavender skin as he sucked her neck and fucked her harder still.

But even with her consuming him, even with every part of him wrapped up in her, it wasn’t enough. He need more, more, so much more. Needed to feel her walls quaking around his cock tighter and tighter. Wanted to reach the part of her he’d never seen before and stay there.

Wanted to spend himself inside her and feel every little quake of her body while he moved.

“Condom,” she whispered so softly he hardly heard her at first.

“What?”

“Condom,” she gasped, “we need a…”

“Shit, right,” He held her hips and slid away, then led her back toward the bed.

“Take off your panties.” It wasn’t a question, and she knew better than to treat it like one. She pulled the little blue fabric off and dropped it on the floor, then spread her legs wide enough for him to see every detail of her perfect pink pussy.

“Do you want to watch me?” she breathed, and before he answered she licked her fingers and stroked herself in tiny, rapid circles. She arched back, closing her eyes and he rolled the condom on while he watched her work toward her ecstasy, already impossibly harder than he’d been before.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he said, and he wanted to stand there and watch her longer, to study the way she played with herself, but it was too much to hold back. He needed to feel her again. Needed to feel her pussy constrict around his aching need.

“Don’t stop,” he said and she heeded the command as he pushed inside her again, watching as his shaft pistoned in and out of her warm, wet center. As her slickness coated him and made him want and want and want.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he groaned, and though he hadn’t meant to say it, she smiled all the same.

“I’m going to come,” she warned, and he dug his fingers into her hips and pushed still deeper, with quick greedy thrusts that had her gasping and moaning so hard she forgot to touch herself. Now, though, he could only focus on her face. On the way her lips twisted and opened, then closed again.

And finally on the small “o” that spread wider and wider while her walls shuddered around him and she gripped the comforter with all her strength. Now was the moment, Shay Meyers was coming around him.

So he flicked the clasp on her bra and watched her breasts tumble free while he fucked her into oblivion.

“Ma…” she said, but that was as far as she got before she moaned lower and she reached for him as he followed her, losing himself in the feeling of his balls drawing up and the hard coil of need low in his belly finally expanding and loosening all at once.

“Fuuuck,” he said, as he came, and he grasped her breasts, kneading them as the heady feeling of release washed over him until he collapsed on top of her chest.

They lay there for a long moment, not speaking. Then, at last, Shay whispered, “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s the belt for?”

He smiled. “Round two.”