The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood, #3)

by Nikki Sloane

There was a power that took hold of me when he issued his command. It was a need I didn’t know existed until he put it into words, and now it was real and living. There was no indecision or questioning if I wanted this. He wanted it, so now I did too.

He wore dark jeans and a stone-gray button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled back to his elbows, which gave me all the forearm porn I could ask for.