OBSESSED

58

LEAH

A killer headache dragged me out of the blissful unconsciousness I'd been in. At first I thought I was hungover again.

I was already planning the ways to discipline myself for letting it happen, but then I tried to move my hands. I couldn't move them.

Tugging my arms apart, I realized my hands felt restrained. I peeled open my heavy eyelids and looked around. My vision sluggishly adjusted.

I could see the rest of my body, stretched out on a bed I didn't recognize. There were four wooden columns and plenty of bed space beside me.

This was a huge four-poster bed. I didn't know anyone who a four-posted bed.

Then I noticed the paneled walls and a painting of a black bear wading in a creek.

What the hell?

My tongue moved around my dry mouth as I attempted to clear my throat. Everything just seemed so slow and delayed.

Strange.

I couldn't remember what had happened. My hands were bound. I felt stiff as a board.

Oh shit, was I roofied?

Footsteps sounded outside the door. I shrank back into the bed, hoping I could disappear.

Whoever the hell had done this to me did not have good intentions.

My throat seemed to thicken with fear. I couldn't blink or breathe or swallow.

The door opened and a male figure moved into the light emanating from a lamp in the corner.
My eyes scanned the broad, muscular form.

I sucked in a sharp breath, unsure whether to be relieved or terrified. "Jarrod?"

"Hi, baby," he said way too calmly. Then he fucking smiled at me.

My brows furrowed. Something was wrong, but I couldn't remembered why.

He was dressed casually in basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

"I was hoping you'd be up," he said as he came to my side. His hands brushed against my cheeks like feathers, the contact fleeting but comforting. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine?"

"You don't sound to sure about that."

Wetting my lips, I glanced around the room. "Jarrod, where are we? Why can't I move my hands?"

His mouth pursed. "Just wanted to make sure you wouldn't run while I was at the store. I'll untie them now."

"Run?"

He reached up and fiddled with where my wrists were bound behind me. After an uncomfortable moment, the ties came loose and my arms dropped. It should have felt nice but instead my shoulders ached. I wondered how long I'd been tied like that. Had we been doing something kinky?

Jarrod tucked the bindings into the pockets of his shorts and sat down beside me. Wincing, I pulled my hands in front of me and rubbed the tender, red ridges marring my skin. My mind was racing to remember why I felt so unsettled right now, but it was like my memories were blocked. I couldn't seem to recall anything from the recent past, including how we even got to this place or why I couldn't go to store with Jarrod.

"You look beautiful," he said, touching my cheek.

"Thank you." My face flushed. Ducking my chin, I looked at my hands and asked, "Where are we? I can't remember anything."