Bound and Determined Read Online Free PDF Page B

groaned. Had the Yankees been using his head for batting practice? He grimaced as blinding sunlight stabbed his eyes through closed lids. No way was he ready to open them; that would be asking for torture. An ache gouged him lower as well. His bladder felt so full he swore he’d swallowed half the Atlantic. Fuzzy creatures had taken up residence on his tongue. His general misery reminded him of that raucous Pearl Jam concert during his college days where he’d cozied up to a bottle of tequila and a hot brunette.
    No, on second thought, this felt worse.
    What the hell had he done last night? One would hope that, despite nearing the age of thirty, he could remember the great party that had given him a hangover of mythic proportions. But only a flash of memory tantalized him: a blonde with dimples and to-die-for breasts wearing a barely legal outfit. Kerry with a K. His memory couldn’t grasp a damn thing beyond her.
    Light footsteps echoed across the floor, drawing nearer.Rafe struggled to open his eyes. A quick glance showed a blonde in denim shorts, face scrubbed clean. A golden ponytail of ringlets swirled between her shoulder blades. Kerry?
    Sunlight slashed his skull more effectively than Freddy Kruger with his best pickax. Groaning once again, Rafe closed his eyes.
    “I brought you some aspirin,” she whispered. “And water.”
    Blindly, Rafe reached out and took them, grimacing as he swallowed. “How long have I been out?”
    “Most of thirty-six hours. Just rest awhile. Wait for those to work.”
    “Can’t.” His croaky voice sounded akin to a ninety-year-old with emphysema. “Bathroom?”
    “Um . . . yeah. Need help?”
    With what, holding it? “No.”
    Eyes still closed, Rafe threw back the covers and stood. His ankles and wrists moved with him, but felt oddly tethered. Cool air assaulted him everywhere. Hangover and all, his eyes flew open.
    About two seconds later, Rafe caught on to the fact he was totally naked and restrained by wrists and ankles. The line connected to his cuffs tied him directly to the bed.
    Nothing like shock to catapult a man awake.
    He glared at her, testing the pulley motion of his restraints. With a tug, he could create some slack in the line, but without effort, the slack quickly retracted. “What the hell—”
    “I can explain!”
    That voice. It wasn’t the phony purr from last night, but it sounded familiar. Where had he heard it? On the plane? No. Before that, recently. But when? A spike of pain stabbed his head, preventing any further thought.
    He focused on the blonde and her wary stare instead. At least it was wary until her gaze fell, focusing on parts south that stood at rigid attention—the morning usual. As a blush stained her cheeks, she looked away.
    Women still blushed? He’d never met one who did. Was she embarrassed? Odd, considering they’d had wild sex last night. Hadn’t they?
    Rafe scowled, brain fuzzy, confused. “Kerry, right?”
    “You remembered.” Surprise lit her green eyes as she returned his gaze.
    Just as abruptly, the smile disappeared.
    She looked way different from last night, so much so he would never have found her in a crowd. The sex siren had disappeared, replaced the red halter with a simple lavender T-shirt. Low-rise denim shorts hugged the smooth curves of her hips, baring firm, tanned thighs. Bare feet dotted with pink toenails peeked over the edge of a chenille throw rug. Today, Kerry looked clean and innocent enough to be someone’s teenaged sister . . . except for her come-hither hourglass figure.
    Despite his hangover, he couldn’t forget her straddling his lap, her flushed nipples bare, as she said yes to more. With any luck there’d be lots more of that in their future . . . once he figured out why she sounded familiar and why he was strapped to a bed like a dizzy damsel in a bad B movie.
    Pulling at the binds around his wrists again, he confirmed that they were retractable and set up on some sort of pulley