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  Lindsay brightened at the thought. He would hate a secret like that exposed. After searching for evidence to corroborate his sexual preference and finding none, she left to search the next room. In the spare bedroom, one he clearly used as a study, she sighed with frustration when she came across a few porn sites on his computer. Porn sites -- money shots, she thought dryly -- but no pictures of her.

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  The sites emphasized large breasts and man-on-woman action. Good lord, but how did a man expect a normal woman to enjoy sex with her legs thrown over her own shoulders?

  She peered closer at the screen and froze when the sudden roar of a car sounded.

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  Chapter Two

  Damn it. Lindsay glanced at her watch and noted more time had passed than she’d thought. An hour and a half of searching, and she’d found nothing. And what the hell was he doing home so early? Thankfully, she’d taken pains to leave everything as she’d found it. She gasped. With the exception of his computer. She quickly closed the file and turned off the monitor, then shut off her flashlight and slid behind the bedroom door, praying the darkness held.

  She could barely see her hand in front of her face and hoped his night vision was as poor. The cloud cover nonexistent moonlight certainly helped her cause.

  Lindsay held her breath as the front door opened. It slammed, and a moment later footsteps sounded in what she thought was the kitchen. Another door opened, and a soda top popped. The refrigerator. Crap. It was nearly midnight. Would Hunt putter around the house? And…oh, shit! Was he alone?

  Straining, she thought she made out only one set of footsteps. He tread along the oak wood hallway with a measured stride and to her relief, passed by the spare room alone.

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  Lindsay exhaled slowly and waited while he moved around in his bedroom. He hummed under his breath, his deep voice making her itch to…well, to do something she’d regret.

  For the first time in a long time her libido responded to a man, and said man turned out to be as bad as the idiot twins. Just her luck. Her stretch of celibacy was growing not only tedious, but frustrating as well. Why else would she still hunger for a creep like Hunt when she knew he was no good?

  The sound of running water jerked her out of her reverie, and Lindsay decided to make her move. She stepped out from behind the door and cursed under her breath when the shower suddenly stopped. The hall light flicked on and gave the spare room dim illumination. Glancing around in alarm, she raced for the only hiding spot in the room, the slatted closet doors across from the spare room’s doorway.

  Thankfully, the hinges made no noise, and the only neighbors she had in the roomy closet were a leather jacket and a trench coat that would see little wear here in the South.

  Just in time, too. Through the slats she could see the vague outline of a darker shadow in the doorway. Lindsay froze like a deer in the headlights, more than grateful when he headed toward his computer instead of the closet. The desk the computer sat on was perpendicular to the closet, and she faced the side of the monitor. Thankfully, it was a high definition flat screen, so she could see what was on it from her angle. From her vantage, she’d be able to see Jared’s profile and the material he viewed. Lindsay shivered, both from nerves and excitement. What the hell would she have said if he’d opened the closet door and found her there? Hi? Her adrenaline surged, and she wiped her hands together. Perhaps tonight wouldn’t be a total waste after all.

  He flicked on his desk light and computer monitor, and her mouth dropped open.

  Jared Hunt stood before his desk without a stitch of clothing on that beautiful, streamlined frame. Corded muscles clenched and released as he bent low, his delineated

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  abdomen making her mouth go dry. His arms were tight and larger than she’d thought, his biceps making her think he must lift weights, regularly. He turned away slightly, bringing attention to his thighs… Lindsay couldn’t breathe. Long and muscular, he looked like a runner or cycler. That ass looked as if it could bounce a quarter.

  Jared shifted, and she couldn’t blink. Holy hell! Jared Hunt had a penis both long and thick, and he was more than aroused. She should have taken her camera out of her bag and snapped a few digital pics, if for no other reason than to capture the memory of perfection.

  But she stood transfixed, unable to look away from such male beauty.

  He finally sat, legs splayed, as he reached between his thighs and began stroking himself.

  She couldn’t believe it. A man like Jared Hunt jacked off by himself in the privacy of his house on a Friday night? Apparently, his date with Sara hadn’t gone over well. But she knew a dozen women at work who would have taken Jared with open arms. Half as many had candidly propositioned him. So why was he here, now? Lindsay’s breathing hitched, and she watched as he clicked through several files with one hand while he continued pleasuring himself with the other.

  Despite the strangeness of the situation, she felt an answering need within her.

  Watching Hunt touch himself excited her, almost unbearably. Her nipples pressed against the cotton of her thin T-shirt, and she felt uncomfortably wet watching his hand sweep over his erection. And, God, what an erection it was. He was so thick. She could only imagine what he’d feel like inside her.

  Stop it! Had she forgotten what she was doing here in the first place? And it would be beyond bad if he found her hiding in his closet.

  “Lindsay,” he murmured, and her gaze shot to the monitor. To her amazement, his hand increased its movement over his penis, rubbing faster as he stared at images of -- her.

  She leaned closer to the closet door, amazed at the pictures on his computer screen.

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  Lindsay in a plum-colored cocktail dress she’d worn a month ago to a company function. Another picture of her in office casual, a slim skirt and matching top. Another shot of her coming out of the bank. The bank.

  She could only stare, not only amazed, but confused. Hunt had made up lies about her at work, and he was apparently spying on her. She should have been completely turned off, not to mention scared. But she wasn’t. Hunt, the man who’d figured prominently in her fantasies since she’d first laid eyes on him, fantasized about her.

  To her dismay, his desire spiked hers.

  I must be freaking nuts.

  Needing to leave his place before Hunt found her, Lindsay held her breath and prayed for him to finish quickly. She felt flushed and tried to look away as he pumped into his hand, but his obvious enjoyment turned her on, incredibly so. And like a Peeping Tom, she watched in horrified fascination as he came, groaning her name.

  He cleaned himself with a towel she hadn’t seen before. That’s Jared -- always prepared, she thought peevishly, excited and frustrated because of him. Dammit. This whole mess was his fault in the first place.

  Scowling, Lindsay saw him sigh and stand. He stared at the monitor as he shut it off.

  Rolling his neck, he stretched before turning off the desk light, apparently relaxed enough to leave the room and go to sleep -- she hoped.

  After what felt like half an hour had passed with no further movement, Lindsay snuck out of the closet and glanced at the dark monitor. After tonight, she knew she had to return.

  She needed to download what she’d found and dig deeper into his computer. If he had just plain, ordinary pictures of her, odds were he might have a doctored photo or two as well.

  That he had any photos of her at all was, well, just a little too unsettling for her peace of mind.

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  After checking the hallway, she left the room and walked quickly toward the back exit.

  Just as she reached the tiled kitchen floor, a battering ram knocked into her back, taking her down.

  Grunting, Lindsay rolled instinctively. The lifelong lessons of self-defense drilled into her courtesy of her father a
nd brothers kicked in, and she had her assailant clutching his groin and gagging in seconds.

  “Fuck you,” Hunt whispered, groaning as he tried to roll to his feet. He slipped on a loose dishtowel on the floor and fell hard, hitting his head on the cold tile. When he made no more sudden moves, Lindsay carefully reached toward him, her heart pounding so hard it threatened to leap from her chest.

  “Hell,” she muttered, completely unnerved. Hunt was out of it. No blood that she could see, but then maybe he was bleeding inside his brain. The lack of lighting was a real problem, but even more so was the fact he might really be hurt.

  Making a snap decision, Lindsay reached down and gently felt his head for possible injury. She was no doctor, but aside from the lump on his head, and his subsequent unconsciousness, he seemed to suffer from no further injuries. Pleased when he moaned and began reaching for her, she grabbed his hands. “Come on, let’s get you to the bedroom,” she murmured, pulling with all her might. Thank you, Dad, for the weightlifting lessons.

  With what little help Jared provided, she dragged him down the hallway into his bedroom. He groaned twice, and she knew she had to act quickly. Relieved he was regaining consciousness, she nevertheless was running out of luck in dealing with her “attacker.”

  Urging him to help her, Lindsay managed to get him flat on his back on the bed. She found the secure ties she’d brought with her -- just in case -- and zipped his wrists and ankles to the head- and footboard, careful not to make them too tight that they’d cut off his circulation. Naked, spread-eagle, and helpless on his bed, Jared Hunt lay vulnerable before her.

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  Mentally, she added assault to the breaking-and-entering charge sure to come her way.

  Dammit, she needed a minute to think… After this stunt, he’d no doubt up his security. She highly doubted she’d be able to sneak back into his place without the cops waiting for her. Glaring down at him, she realized she couldn’t, in good conscience, leave him here alone. And when he woke up, then what? She’d be toast.

  Lindsay scowled, refusing to end up the victim in Hunt’s petty little battle. Despite her hostility, her eyes roved over his delectably naked body with a will of their own. So, he liked looking at her, hmm? Enough to relieve his sexual frustration, apparently. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

  I’m over the edge. This is absolutely insane. I should leave before it’s too late.

  But the sight of Hunt naked, and thoughts of him besting her again, pushed Lindsay into a choice she had a bad feeling she’d regret later.

  Fuming at the mess he’d made of this, she refused to consider civilized rules anymore.

  Oh, she’d make sure he recovered from his head injury, but after that, he was going to do some apologizing. Lindsay reached for a thick bandana from her backpack and rolled it into a length of blindfold, then stowed the bag next to the bed.

  His apology had better be one heck of an “I’m sorry.” Because if she didn’t like it -- and she had a feeling she wouldn’t -- he was in for a real treat.

  * * * * *

  Jared groaned. His head felt like it was splitting in two, and the annoying voice that refused to let him sleep through the night was two seconds away from a fist in the mouth.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake.”

  He frowned, the voice eluding him. It was gruff yet husky, but the throbbing in his temple made it hard to focus on anything. And there was the fact he couldn’t see. “What the hell is over my eyes?”

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  He blinked beneath a blindfold of some sort, and when he tried to remove it, found he couldn’t move his hands. Or his feet.

  “You’re going to be just fine, Hunt.” The voice was taunting, and he swore it sounded…odd. He inhaled, but the subtle fragrance in the air eluded him.

  Gritting his teeth, he tugged again at his wrists. Shit. Had Maclearn or Simmons learned something he hadn’t anticipated?

  “Now, now, you don’t want to chafe that pretty skin. It’s tight enough that you’re not going to escape without a knife. And the one in your nightstand is right here.”

  Jared sucked in his breath when he felt something sharp and cool dragged over his stomach.

  “Don’t worry, Hunt. I’m not going to hurt you…much.”

  That voice. His head swam, and he unwillingly flinched when a hand lifted his head off his pillow.

  “Take this.”

  He refused to open his mouth and heard a sigh.

  “It’s Motrin from your bathroom cabinet. Eight hundred milligrams has been working for you all night. I’m not planning on killing you now, hotshot.”

  So he hadn’t imagined someone caring for him for several hours. He began to calm down as his brain processed what he knew. Swallowing the pill and an accompanying mouthful of water, Jared smelled a hint of lemon and lavender soap from the person aiding him. The voice was husky but feminine. Add to that the soft, somewhat small hand on his neck, and…

  Oh, hell. Lindsay Riordan. It had to be. But what the hell was she doing in his house?

  And why was he tied to his bed? The last thing he remembered was drifting to sleep when a feeling of wrongness hit him. Listening to his instincts, he’d found a dark shape prowling in his kitchen and attacked.

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  Pain, the likes of which he never wanted to experience again, followed by a blow to the head. Then…this.

  “Why am I tied up?” he asked, after she slowly set his head back on the pillow. For a woman bent on harming him, she was acting decidedly gentle about it.

  “Let’s just say I have a few things on my mind we need to discuss if you want to see the light of day again.”

  She kept her voice on the low side, and the blindfold told him she didn’t want to be recognized. Realizing it was her, and not whom he’d at first suspected, Jared allowed himself to fully relax. He’d play her game, for a while, until he found out what he needed to know.

  He’d always imagined having her the other way around -- with her tied up, naked, and under him -- but it intrigued him to see what she would do.

  As the silence thickened, a sudden thought hit him.

  “I’m naked, aren’t I?” Nothing. “And you were here since last night?” He felt himself flush but could do nothing about it. Damn. That meant the odd feeling he’d had in his study had been on the money. He would just bet she’d seen his “performance” and had a ton of questions as to why he’d been beating off to pictures of her.

  This had to be the most embarrassing moment of his life. But he’d be damned if he’d let her see that. He was actually thankful the blindfold was in place.

  “You have interesting taste in porn, I’ll say that,” she said after a moment, her voice amused.

  Of all the instances he’d imagined when confronting Lindsay Riordan, this had never entered his mind.

  The first time he’d seen her, his first day of work at Tron Corp, he’d fallen in immediate lust. But ever the consummate professional, he’d ignored his desire and focused on his job. After several weeks had passed and he’d earned the same rejections she’d given

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  everyone else, he’d turned to the rumor mill. Funny thing, that. Gossip had turned his investigation in a completely new direction.

  A hand trailed up his thigh, and he sucked in his breath, stunned. Wearing the blindfold enhanced his other senses, and her hand felt like a satin whip that beat at his need.

  His cock hardened in an instant, and he wondered what she thought about him.

  “Well, well. Apparently last night didn’t get it out of your system after all.” He heard what sounded like a snick, and alarm replaced his desire.

  “Shit. Tell me that’s not a camera.”

  “It’s not a camera.”

  She was lying. He knew it. She had overheard him with Maclearn and Simmons on Wednesday. He’d tried to talk to her about it, but she’d refused to speak to hi
m. Considering she usually put him off, Jared had hoped she’d just been angry for some other reason not related to his talk with “the boys.” But if she’d heard him, she was no doubt pissed as hell.

  Maybe he’d do better to tell her the truth and let her…

  “Ah,” he moaned, arching into the fist that now held his cock with ecstatic tightness.

  “I believe you like this. At least, you did last night.”

  Incredibly, she began priming him, pumping his cock with her small fingers. He couldn’t help moving with her, aroused beyond measure that Lindsay Riordan had her hand around his shaft and was stroking him to oblivion.

  “More,” he couldn’t help saying. “Harder.”

  She complied, and he lost all reason.

  “You like a firm hand, don’t you?” He moaned and thrust up, and she stopped. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he gasped, grateful when she started again. Hell, she was setting him on fire. He felt so hard he wanted to burst. Fluid leaked from his tip, making her hand slide over his shaft with wonderful friction. Her touch was like nothing Jared had ever felt before and

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  being tied up and helpless while being pleasured was a huge turn-on he would never have expected.

  “You want to come, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your balls are tight, your cock impossibly hard. Like steel, velvet steel,” Lindsay murmured, and he could hear the arousal in her voice.

  She pumped him harder, making him pant.

  “Yeah, baby, make me come,” he urged, thrusting into her hand. He was so hard, so wet and ready. God, he needed it. He was so close…

  She stopped.

  “Don’t worry, stud. We’ll get back to that real soon. I’ve got a few things to do in the meantime.” She chuckled. “Don’t go anywhere.”

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