Page 103 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series
“Not interested.”
Mike released a long, slow breath.
If there was one thing Andrew and his friend were perfectly matched in, it was stubbornness.
“Fine.” Mike’s tone told Andrew he was far from finished, but at least his friend knew him well enough to leave it alone tonight. Even so, he wasn’t sure Mike had ever relented so quickly. Andrew must sound more exhausted than he thought.
Andrew turned into his driveway and felt a sense of relief. He was home. His own bed was close. All he needed was to sleep twenty-four hours or so, and then he’d be back in fighting shape. “Listen. I’m home now. I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can get together this weekend and take in a White Sox game or something.”
“Sounds good. Get some rest.” Mike clicked off with a quick goodbye.
Andrew grabbed his suitcase from the trunk and tiredly walked to the front porch. The house was dark. Harper had left town shortly after he’d taken off for his ill-fated trip, attending some sort of teachers’ conference in Minneapolis over spring break. He hoped her mini-vacation was fairing better than his had. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to spend their time off doing what was the equivalent of more work, but Harper was nothing if not a devoted teacher. He felt the same sense of pride that filled him whenever he thought of his baby sister. She was the only family he had left in the world and he adored her.
Locking the door behind him, he climbed the stairs in the quiet house, not bothering to turn on a light. He’d grown up in this place, knew it by heart. He treaded lightly on the third step to avoid the creak, even though he knew he was the only one home. Some habits were so tightly engrained they never left.
He glanced through the open door to Harper’s bedroom as he passed, the room bright with moonlight. As expected, her bed was empty. He paused briefly, missing her. She seldom went anywhere, so when she wasn’t home, he felt her absence deeply. It was going to be a lonely week here without her bubbly, energetic presence. He’d considered going on to L.A. to stay in his own apartment, but he’d felt the urge to spend some time in his hometown.
Continuing down the hallway, he didn’t stop until he reached his own room. The second he crossed the threshold, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Something wasn’t right.
He quietly placed his luggage on the floor, forcing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The curtains in Harper’s room had been open, but his were drawn. The lack of moonlight left him blind.
Taking a few cautious steps into the room, he made his way to the window. Someone was here. He could feel it. Reaching toward the wall, he found his baseball bat. He’d played third base on his high school team, but he’d hung up his mitt shortly after heading to college. However, he’d never gotten rid of the bat, the hard wood now serving as the weapon he’d kept in the corner of his room for years.
Once he wrapped his hand around the bat, he drew it up, ready to swing. There wasn’t any movement in the room, but he could definitely hear someone breathing near the bed. Approaching slowly, he almost tripped over something on the floor. As his gaze adjusted to the dark, he noticed the pile of clothing at his feet, then he managed to make out a lump in his bed.
What the hell?
Someone was in his bed, and given their deep, relaxed breathing, they were sound asleep. Turning back to the window, he quietly parted the curtains, anxious for some light. The person never stirred. Andrew kept the bat raised as he retuned to the bed.
With the moonlight shining in, he could see much clearer—and was shocked at the image of a naked woman in his bed.
He glanced around to confirm they were alone. The rest of his room looked normal, nothing touched or disturbed. The only thing out of place was the beauty who’d taken up residence between his silk sheets.
Andrew stood for several moments trying to figure out his next move. The rest of the house was quiet, but part of him wondered if the woman was here as a ruse, a distraction. Shit. He needed to lighten up on the murder-mystery books. He’d read two stories in the past three days as he killed time waiting in airports because of delayed flights.
He wasn’t even supposed to be here. The only people who knew he was in Chicago were Mike and Tom.
The woman rolled from her side to her back, treating him to an unhindered view of her left breast as the sheet drifted lower.
His cock responded, stealing much-needed blood from his brain.
This woman had broken into his home. Somehow she’d known the house was empty. He fought down his arousal and decided to take action, to get some answers. He carefully put the bat down, leaning it against the nightstand in case he needed to grab it again quickly.
Then he slowly reached behind the headboard, silently searching for the straps he knew were there. He hadn’t brought a woman back to the house in years out of respect for his sister, but he also hadn’t bothered to remove the restraints he’d had installed when he was younger. Once the strap was freed from its hiding place, he walked to the other side of the bed, looking for the mate.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He wasn’t sure exactly what was causing the sudden racing of his heart—the anticipation of a fight or rock-hard, pulse-pounding arousal.
Moving ever so carefully, he reached for one of the woman’s wrists, dragging it toward the first restraint. If he could fasten the straps before she woke, it would make his job of questioning her easier.
Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. The woman’s eyes snapped open at his touch. She started to scream, so Andrew covered her mouth with his hand as she began to fight him in earnest. While he had to have her by almost a hundred pounds, the petite woman waged one hell of a battle. She scratched his face as he struggled to reclaim his grip on her hand. Despite her naked state, she kicked off the covers, freeing her legs to pummel his thighs with blows strong enough to leave bruises.
Forced to keep her mouth covered, lest she wake up the neighborhood with her screaming, he tried to subdue her one-handed. When that attempt failed, he released her mouth. The woman started to scream again, so he quickly grabbed her blouse from the floor and stuffed some of the material into her mouth, muffling her cries.
Her initial shock at being gagged gave him the precious seconds he needed to snap a restraint around one of her wrists. When she realized what he was doing, she doubled her efforts. With one of her hands out of play, it was easier to capture and restrain the second.
For the first time, desperation and fear crept onto her face.
