SPARK’S NOSE
ITCHED. But he couldn’t move his hands to scratch.
Forcing one eye to a slit, he wasn’t in
his room, but still in the motel. Damn. He’d fallen asleep.
Opening both eyes, he blinked the
fuzziness away and lifted his head. His arms were stretched high above his head
and his wrists ached. He darted a glimpse above him.
He was tied to the headboard. Acid gurgled in
his stomach. “What the hell!” He gave his hands a jerk, but the rope held them
tight. “Fuck!”
Jerking a glance around the room…there
she was…sitting in the chair, her legs crossed and a look of satisfaction
covering her pretty features.
“What the fuck is this?” Now he
understood why Ms. Stone had been throwing herself at him. “Talk to me!” he
demanded.
A sticky, tingly sensation brought his
gaze lower and on his legs. He squinted. Both legs were covered with some sort
of pink, glossy paper. “And what in
God’s creation are those?”
She got up, stood at the end of the bed,
a smirk curving her lips. “Wax strips.”
“Get them off me and let me the hell out
of this bed!” he snarled
“Are you sure you want me to help you
with the strips?” One thin brow curved maliciously.
“Hell yeah!”
She reached down, grabbed the corner of
one strip and pulled.
“Ow!” he squealed as a fire like none
other raced through his leg. Clenching his teeth, he looked at her through
narrowed gaze. “What the hell was that for?’
“You did ask me to help you. So I did.”
“I’m talking about all of this—the rope,
the shit on my legs.” He forced a breath through tight lips.
Smugly, she crossed her arms. “This is a
lesson earned.”
He popped up a brow. “A lesson? For
what?” Bringing his gaze back to his rope twined wrists, he visually examined
the headboard. The cord was wrapped around his wrists, fashioned through the five-inch
gap into the wooden detail, then pulled back through and tied in a knot. From
what he could see, and with another tug, it wasn’t a bad knot.
“I’m sorry, but I have plans so I must
hurry. I won’t spend much time with my explanation. You played my sister. Therefore,
I’m showing you what it’s like to be played.”
He perused his brain, trying to find a
clue as to what she was referring too. He came up blank. This had to be a joke!
“Lady, the only one of us who is a player and a manipulator is you.” Seeing a
flicker of confusion, he chuckled. “Yes, that’s right, Jewels Stone.”
One brow snapped up and her hands
clenched into fists. “So…so, you knew who I was all along?” Her lips thinned.
Good thing she didn’t have a weapon, otherwise he’d be dead, he was certain.
“What? You don’t like being caught at
your sordid game? Pot. Kettle. Black.” He gave his arms a jerk and the bed
creaked.
She darted her glance to his bound
wrists, but only a mere flash. “Don’t talk or I’ll have to get the tape and
cover your mouth.”
Anger sliced through his gut. Damn,
woman! He didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d do as she threatened.
With a cold glance in his direction, she
bent and grabbed something. His jeans! She dipped her hand into the back pocket
and withdrew his cell. Now what was she doing?
“Be thankful that I’m not cruel, otherwise
I’d leave you tied up here until the cleaning lady came, and considering I
rented this room for two days, that’d be a long time to stay bound to the bed.
Imagine the laugh the employees here would have.”
“Letting me go would be the best
decision you’ve made, before things got out of hand.”
“Are you threatening me?” She shook her
head. “Tsk, Tsk.”
“You have a warped mind, don’t you?”
Pulling himself up, he heard the wood crack and the springs pop. It wouldn’t
take much pressure for him to break the bed, but he’d have no way of getting
the rope undone. Apparently, she was thinking the same thing because her eyes widened.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
She came to stand beside the bed. “Who would you like to call to ask for help?”
“9-1-1,” he grumbled.
“And imagine the story you’d tell. You
were sleeping so hard that a woman tied you to the bed and placed hot wax
strips on your legs. That’d be another group finding the humor in this scenario.
So, would you like to change your contact person?”
Buy here... Take your cowboy home...
No comments:
Post a Comment