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.
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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.