Extraits

La transformation de Gideon avait été presque brutale, elle était survenue dans un moment d’hyper-lucidité, lorsqu’il avait compris qu’il ne pouvait vivre sans moi. Mon changement était plus graduel, si désespérément mesuré que j’en venais à croire que je n’aurais pas du tout besoin de changer.

Ce en quoi je me trompais. 

– Mon ange, tu es une très vilaine fille.

Je chevauchai sa cuisse sans vergogne, excitée par le contact rugueux de son jean.

– Seuleument avec toi.

Je vivais un fantasme devenu réalité-le ténébreux dieu du sexe vêtu d'un costume superbement coupé mettait à mon service sa bouche conçu pour rendre folles toutes les femmes.

" Le monde pouvait continuer à devenir fou sans nous l'espace d'une nuit.

Demain viendrait bien assez vite. "

" Nous avions tendance à trop analyser les problèmes au milieu, desquels nous nous débattions, mais nos corps, eux, savaient à quoi s'en tenir. Il nous suffisait de nous toucher pour avoir la certitude que nous étions là où nous devions être, avec la personne qui nous était destinée. "

Laughing, I went to the bar and waited for an opening to ask for Pellegrino and the phone. I dialed Gideon’s cell number, since it was the one I had memorized. I figured it was safe since I was calling from a public place he owned.

“Cross,” he answered briskly.

“Hi, ace.” I leaned into the bar and covered my other ear with my hand. “I’m drunk dialing you.”

“I can tell.” His voice changed for me, slowed and grew warm. It captivated me even over the music. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yes, but I miss you. Did you take your vitamins?”

He had a smile in his voice when he asked, “Are you horny, angel?”

“It’s your fault! This club is like Viagra. I’m hot and sweaty and dripping in pheromones. And I’ve been a bad girl, you know. Dancing like I’m single.”

“Bad girls get punished.”

“Maybe I should be really bad then. Make the punishment worth it.”

He growled. “Come home and be bad with me.”

The thought of him at home, ready for me, made me even more eager for him. “I’m stuck here ‘til the girls are done, which looks to be a while.”

“I can come to you. Within twenty minutes, you could have my cock inside you. Do you want that?”

I glanced around the club, my entire body vibrating with the hard driving music. Imagining him here, fucking me in this no-holds-barred place, made me squirm with anticipation. “Yes. I want that.”

“Do you see the skywalk?”

Turning around, I looked up and saw the suspended walkway hugging the walls. Dancers dry fucked to the music from twenty feet above the dance floor. “Yes.”

“There’s a section where it wraps around a mirrored corner. I’ll meet you there. Be ready, Eva,” he ordered. “I want your cunt naked and wet when I find you.”

I shivered at the familiar command, knowing it meant he’d be rough and impatient. Just what I wanted. “I’m wearing a—”

“Angel, a crowd of millions couldn’t hide you from me. I found you once. I’ll always find you.”

Source: http://www.sylviaday.com/2013/02/07/entwined-snippet-7/

“Shut up, caveman. I’m not into that ‘me Cross, you Cross little woman’ bullshit,” I snapped. “In case you’ve forgotten already, we made a trade. You got me, and I got you. I protect what’s mine.”

“Eva, don’t fight my battles for me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that. You’ve been doing it your whole life. Now, you’ve got me. I can handle this one.”

Source: http://www.sylviaday.com/2013/02/24/oscar-night-snippet/

I weaved my way through writhing bodies, my pulse rate increasing with every step. The music was less loud up here and the air more humid. Sweat glistened on exposed skin and the elevation lent a sense of danger, even though the glass railing surrounding the skywalk was shoulder-high. I was almost to the mirrored section when I was caught around the waist and pulled back into a man’s rolling hips.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw the guy I’d danced with before, the one who’d called me beautiful. I smiled and started dancing, closing my eyes to lose myself in the music. When his hands started to slide over my waist, I caught them, pinning them to my hips with my own. He laughed and dipped his knees, aligning his body with mine.

We were three songs out before I felt the ripple of awareness that told me Gideon was nearby. The electrical charge swept over my skin, heightening every sensation. Abruptly the music was louder, the temperature hotter, the sensuality of the club more arousing.

I smiled and opened my eyes, spotting him arrowing toward me. I was instantly hot for him, my mouth watering as I ate up the sight of him in a dark T-shirt and jeans, his hair pulled back from that breathtaking face. No one seeing him would put him together with Gideon Cross, the international mogul. This guy appeared younger and rougher, distinctive only for his incredible smokin’ hotness. I licked my lips with anticipation, leaning into the guy behind me and rubbing my ass voluptuously into the next roll of his hips.

Gideon’s hands fisted at his sides, his posture aggressive and predatory. He didn’t slow as he neared me, his body on a collision course with mine. Turning, I met him the last step, surging into him. Our bodies crashed together, my arms encircling his shoulders; my hands pulling his head down so I could take his mouth in a wet, hungry kiss.

With a growl, Gideon cupped my ass and yanked me up hard against him, my feet leaving the floor. He bruised my lips with the ferocity of his passion, his tongue filling my mouth with hard, deep plunges that warned me of the violent shades of his lust.

The guy I’d been dancing with came up behind me, his hands in my hair and his lips at my shoulder blade.

Gideon pulled back, his face a gorgeous mask of fury. “Get lost.”

I looked at the guy and gave a shrug. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Anytime, beautiful.” He caught the hips of a girl walking by and moved away.

“Angel.” With a growl, Gideon pressed me into the mirror, his hard thigh thrust between my legs. “You’re a bad girl.”

Shameless and eager, I rode him, gasping at the feel of denim against my tender sex. “Only for you.”

Source: http://www.sylviaday.com/2013/01/23/entwined-snippet-6/

I let myself into Eva’s apartment with the key she’d given me. As I turned the lock, my grip tightened on the fob inscribed with my initials—a gift that opened her home to me. I wished the key to her was that tangible.

As it was, I didn’t know if I’d be welcome anymore. Everything had shifted. She knew what I’d never wanted her to know. If anything could drive us apart, it would be the truth of what I’d done.

I had to know if it had. I couldn’t wait. Not knowing was ripping me apart.

My heart pounded as I approached her room. I’d stopped being afraid of anything long ago, but she made me fear. I was knotted up inside, so twisted over her I couldn’t find my way out.

I was breathing hard when I closed Eva’s bedroom door behind me, shutting me into her space with her. Her scent drifted around me, made me hard and desperate, made me all too aware of the hollowness inside me that only she could fill. My feet were weighted to the floor. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak past the tightness closing my throat.

She walked in from the bathroom and my breath caught.

Christ, she was amazing. Her beautiful face was flushed from the heat of a shower, her curvy, irresistibly fuckable body wrapped only in a towel. I swear she glowed, shined with an inner radiance that warmed me like the sun.

My gut clenched when her stormy gaze found mine.

Her cool gray eyes slid over me. I could feel them cut through me like a blade, see into the heart of me. She’d always been able to see me, all of me, and yet she could still look at me like she did, as if she couldn’t get her fill. She could have anyone. For reasons I’d never fully grasp, she chose me.

“It’s dangerous for you to be here,” she said finally, her voice a low, throaty caress.

It took everything I had not to go to her, to pull her to the floor and take her like an animal. Because when I was inside her, she was mine and we were one and I had no fear.

My mouth thinned grimly. “I couldn’t stay away.”

Her eyes darkened, the pulse leaping at her throat. Her chest lifted and fell with her quickened breathing, her nostrils flaring as her body responded to the hard, driving need pulsing off of mine. It had been this way with us from the beginning, both of us unable to fight the potent attraction between us. She was the other half of me, the part worth killing for.

My hands fisted at my sides. “I need you.”

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she teased breathlessly, and I knew she was trying to lure me back from the edge I clung to. She understood me. I didn’t have to pretend with her, didn’t have to hide myself to keep her.

“It’s killing me,” I said gruffly. “Being without you. Missing you. I feel like my fucking sanity depends on you, Eva, and you want me to be happy about that?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and I growled, needing to feel that tongue on my skin. Wanting to stroke my own tongue against it and quench my endless thirst for the taste of her.

She shivered visibly. “Well… I’m happy about it.”

The tension gripping me eased with the realization that she still wanted me. Even after what I’d done.

I watched the memories slide through her, the nightmare she’d lived through for years. It leached the color from her skin and shadowed her eyes. She trembled and I took a deep breath, knowing I’d do it again. And again. As many times as necessary to spare her from ever being afraid.

She must’ve seen it on my face. Her eyes filled with tears and she whispered, “I love you. I love you so much.”

“Angel.” I reached her in three strides, dropping my keys on the floor and shoving both hands into her damp hair. I was shaking with my need for her, my body racked with a cold that came from within.

At the first touch of her lips the terror of losing her finally loosened its claws.

I forced myself to restrain my kiss, savoring her with slow, deep licks. She whimpered, her hands tangling in my sweatshirt. The heat of her passion made me groan, my control fraying with the reassurance that she was as parched for me as I was for her, as frantic and ravenous.

Eva melted into me, her fingers sinking into my hair. I deepened the kiss, eating at her lush mouth, telling her without words that I’d been starving for her. Wasting away without her. A sob escaped her and I pulled her closer.

“Don’t,” I breathed. “It shreds me when you cry.”

“It’s too much.”

I nodded grimly. “What I did—”

“Not that. How I feel about you.”

Jesus. I didn’t deserve her. Never would. But she was mine and I’d treasure her until I took my last breath.

Source: http://www.sylviaday.com/2012/12/31/special-teaser-years/

We cleaned up the mess from dinner together. As I reached for the rinsed dish Gideon held out for me to put in the dishwasher, he faked me out. He grabbed my hand instead and deftly set the plate on the counter. Catching me around the waist, he spun us into a dance. From the living room stereo, I caught the strains of something beautiful laced with a woman’s pure, haunting voice.

“Who is this?” I asked, already breathless from the feel of Gideon’s powerful body flexing fluidly against mine. The desire that was always smoldering between us flared, making me feel vibrant and alive in a way that was unique with him. Every nerve ending sensitized, preparing for his touch. Hunger coiled tight with heated anticipation.

“No clue.” He swept me around the island and into the living room.

I surrendered to his consummate lead, loving that dancing was a passion we shared and awed by the obvious joy he felt in just holding me and being with me. That same joy effervesced within me, lightening my steps until it felt like we were gliding. As we approached the stereo, the music rose in volume. I heard the words “dark and dangerous” in the lyrics and stumbled in surprise.

“Too much wine, angel?” Gideon teased, pulling me closer.

But my attention was riveted to the music, and the singer’s pain over a tormented relationship that she likened to being in love with a ghost. My heart ached at the words that so hauntingly reminded me of the days I’d believed I had lost Gideon forever.

I looked up into his face and found him watching me with dark, glittering eyes.

“You looked so happy when you were dancing with your dad,” he said, referring to the night he’d come over for dinner to meet my father. Our relationship had been on rocky ground then and I’d broken up with him the next day.

“I’m happy now,” I assured him, even as my eyes stung at the sight of his yearning, a longing I knew intimately. If souls could be mated with wishes, ours would be inextricably entwined.

Cupping his nape, I pulled his mouth down to mine. As our lips touched, his rhythm faltered. He stopped; hugging me so tightly my feet left the floor.

Unlike the heartbroken singer, I wasn’t in love with a ghost. I was in love with a flesh and blood man, one who made mistakes but learned from them, a man who was trying hard to better himself for me, a man who wanted us to work as desperately as I did.

“I’m never happier than when I’m with you,” I told him.

“Ah, Eva.”

He took my breath away with his kiss.