As the elevator ascended, David’s body seemed to grow bigger, his bearing predatory. I was his cornered prey. And he was about to strike. After a charged moment, he nodded at the doors. “Go on.” In my thickening haze of anticipation, I hadn’t even noticed our arrival at the penthouse. “We’re late for a very important date,” he said.
   “And what date is that?” I asked as we stepped off.
   “You, me and nothing else. Leave everything at the door.” He unlocked the door and held it open so I could pass through before him. As I did though, he snatched my elbow. “I said everything.”
   Over my shoulder, my gaze met his brown eyes, dark and lusty. He let the door slam to merge his body against my backside, gripping my shoulders roughly in his hands. “I’ve been crazy for you all day,” he rasped in my ear. “And although I love this nude dress, I want it off. Now.” He dragged the zipper down and dropped to his knees. I gasped when his lips touched the base of my spine. His hands skated up my exposed back and slid over my shoulders, releasing the gown so it slumped at my feet. They came around to my front, where he spread his fingers across my stomach. A moan vibrated against the small of my back, sending a shiver up to my shoulders.
   He stood and wrapped an arm around my chest, his hardness pressing against my spine. His other hand dropped to pull me open by my inner thigh and touch me through my underwear. I was panting, swaying when he released me suddenly. “Jesus,” he muttered. “I can’t control myself with you.”
   Through oversized windows, the city glow lent the only light to the room as he circled in front of me. I put my hand in his and stepped out of the dress, following as he led me down the stairs into the sunken living room.
   “Keep those on,” he instructed, motioning to my new black stilettos. He removed his blazer and lit the fireplace as my body, alive with desire, wavered unsteadily in the four-inch heels. He emptied his pockets onto a side table and removed his Rolex. He undid his bowtie slowly with his hooded eyes fixed on me. His limbs, strong and brawny, moved fluidly as he shed clothing. I wanted to learn the contours of his body with my eyes, my fingers, my tongue. And when he looked at me that way, like it was the first time, I could barely help from melting at his feet.

If what you want isn't best for the person you love - the person you can't live without - do you find the strength to let them go?

When there's a crack so great it could swallow you both, do you run, try to push them away before it does?

Or do you ask them to stay anyway?

Here's a song that goes with a scene near the end of Come Together. It's part of The Cityscape Series playlist that will debut on The Book Wranglers blog tour stop in September.