4
Natalie
Holy effing hell. Roark was mine? Was this a cosmic joke? He stood before me, looming, all protective and growly and bossy, and I could do nothing but stare and wonder what drug I’d taken.
This couldn’t be real. He was too perfect to be real.
His clothes didn’t scream alien. His pants and boots were simple and black. He wore an odd gray tunic that highlighted every huge bulge of muscle on his massive chest and shoulders. He looked human, just a bit bigger than I was used to. He made Curtis, with his stringy blond hair, skinny torso and loafers, look like a twelve-year-old boy. Roark was all man. His hair was so dark it looked black, his eyes were focused and intense, the color of espresso. And his voice? It gave me shivers. So deep. So commanding. God, I wanted him to talk di
