
Dawson didn’t know if there was a weapon trained on him or not, nor if there
was another person up there. He set about doing as the lady asked. As he
finished, both his companions were groaning. Gear Head had a nasty gash
that was bleeding, as head wounds do, profusely. Dobbs was a mass of
bruises, but didn’t seem seriously injured.
“Ok, they’re bound,” Dawson told Glenda. “Now what?”
“Zip your own hands,” she informed him with humor in her voice.
“You gotta be kiddin’,” Dawson exclaimed in amazement.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“I have confidence you’ll figure it out,” Glenda informed him, her voice
sarcastic, but firm. “And, Dawson, don’t skimp on those being secure
either.” She turned on the lights.
Doing as he was told, by using his teeth, he secured his hands in front, no
way could he bind them behind his back. He watched as the stairs were
pulled up a few feet off the injured men, Glenda walked down.
Dawson was struck by how gorgeous she was. No make-up, just a pair of
jeans with a simple top. Absent a bra, her breasts peaked in the chill of the
air, firm and full. Heavy, long,
blonde hair fell to grace her heart-shaped face, and tumbled down around
her shoulders. When she pulled her cap off, her blue eyes were full of fire
and anger. While still struck by her looks, he found she quickly zip tied him
to the post next to the stairs that divided the kitchenette from the gathering
room.
“Damn, woman,” he swore, “will you listen to reason?”
“Reason?” Glenda questioned dubiously. “What reason? You tried to hijack
my Harley on the Parkway this morning. Oh yeah, I know what you four had
in mind. Thank heavens I had a helmet on and you didn’t know I was a
woman. Reason? Tonight you track me down to steal my bike. Thanks for
dinner by the way.” She kissed him amiably on the nose. “Oh and dessert,”
her voice sweet again, “I so rarely indulge,” she growled the last part.
“So call the state highway patrol now and get this straightened out,”
Dawson said in a level voice, noting a surprised look on her face.
She turned to the two men still out on the floor, “Gear Head?” She looked at
Dawson to confirm she had his name correct. Dawson nodded. “Needs a
couple of stitches.” She checked his eyes and pulse. “He’ll live. This one is
Dobbs?” Dawson nodded again.
“Oh, he is going to have a headache, hope that’s all.” She did the same with
him. “Okay, now,” taking a hunting knife from a hidden niche, she cut the
zip tie holding Dawson to the post, “roll them out from under the stairs, and
be sure they remain tied.” She looked into his angry eyes. “I can and will
use this, if you give me reason.” Her voice told him she meant business.
Dawson rolled both men free of the stairs and Glenda lowered them all the
way down.
“You know, Glenda, if either one is really badly hurt you could be held
responsible. It would be best to call the...”
Glenda looked at him with suspicion. “I don’t have a phone, and as I am sure
you are aware, cells don’t work here. Why so anxious for me to call the
police?”
“I told you, things aren’t like they seem.” He took a couple of steps closer to
her. “And I want you to call the state highway patrol.”
“Dawson, I really liked you, actually rather still do. Please don’t put me in a
position to do something I would rather not.” She flipped the knife
artistically in her hand, showing him she knew how to handle it. “On the
other hand— don’t get the idea I won’t.” Her eyes turned deadly. “Sit
down!”
Dawson knew a fake out and she wasn’t. He sat down.
“I’m not one of them,” he said bluntly. “I am an FBI Agent, working
undercover.”
Glenda laughed, “And your proof would be—what?” She didn’t trust him,
but it would explain his reluctance before they broke in. She examined him.
What a hunk. She longed to run her hands over those muscles and explore
his hard body. Briefly, she glanced over him, noticing other things that were
hard she would like to explore. She blushed. Both men on the floor groaned,
starting to wake up.
“I do have proof,” Dawson said, “but I’d have to undress to…” He stopped
when she laughed, as she pulled her long blonde hair into a severe ponytail
at the top of her head.
“Oh that would be nice.” A full grin spread her tempting lips and cold blue
eyes changed to merry warm ones that made him blush. “I think I might like
that. Go ahead,” Glenda told him.
“I can’t with these on.” He raised his bound hands.
Her temper flared again. “Do you think I’m stupid?” Her eyes turned to ice
as well, but met passion-filled green eyes. Hers widened a little at the desire
she saw in his. Damn, you’re
sexy! He made her want what was bulging in his black jeans. Damn you
twice for making me have any doubts about keeping you tied up.
“I say you can if you want to, and that’s the only way you’ll do it,” she
informed him. She giggled as a thought came to her; the silliness of the
situation beginning to weigh on her. “What...you have a secret pocket in
your underwear?” She laughed at him. “No, wait.” She giggled more. “You
have your badge number and photo ID tattooed on your ass.” She saw that
comment brought a little anger into his big green eyes and she stopped
laughing at him.
Both men on the floor were coming around fast. “I don’t want them to
know,” Dawson told her in a deadpan voice.
“So I figured.” Glenda smirked. “Be a good boy and get your companions a
glass of water. They’ll need it, and don’t hope to find a knife. I’ve removed
them all.” She watched him walk into the kitchenette.
Dawson did as instructed, and came back promptly with the water, trying to
gain her trust. Both men were conscious and starring at Glenda in
amazement.
“What happened?” Dobbs asked when he saw Dawson, listening as he
quickly explained.
“You’re kidding. She took us out?”
“I told you we should have taken the bike and left, but you wouldn’t do that,”
Dawson said in his best I told you so voice.