He lounged on his side, bare-chested and barefooted, his jeans unbuttoned to show both the waistband of his underwear and the sleek lines of his ripped abs. The taxi driver was hitting his horn repeatedly, as if that would clear the way. Cary Taylor’s lips had a come-hither curve and his long, lean frame was blocking the intersection. Through the windshield, I saw my roommate’s million-dollar smile flashing at me from the billboard on the side of a bus.

The blare of a horn snapped me back to the present. I needed him like I needed my heart to beat, and he’d put himself in great jeopardy, risking everything–for me.

From the moment I first saw him–saw through his stunning and impossibly gorgeous exterior to the dark and dangerous man inside–I’d felt the pull that came from finding the other half of myself. Just thinking of his name sent a heated flare of longing through my tightly strung body. I was sticky with sweat from an intense Krav Maga class, and my mind was spinning with thoughts of what the man I loved had done. Whenever I made the mistake of paying attention, I’d find my right foot pushing hard into the floorboard, my body instinctively trying to hit the brakes.īut for once, I didn’t need any distractions. To save my sanity, I’d learned to focus on the screen of my smartphone instead of the cars rushing by only inches away. Fearless to a fault, they sped and swerved through crowded streets with unnatural calm.

Entwined with you