The Hot Hand Carly hadn't intended on staring. Giving the man who was harassing her family a piece of her mine was solely her goal when she marched up the four flights to his apartment. Barging into the unlocked suite, she had made it about halfway across the room when the pure power of his physique had stopped her dead in her tracks. She instantly wished she'd worn the Prada sandals instead of her noisy pumps. She could have had another 10 seconds of free viewing.

Instead, he'd stopped, his sweat soaked body turned and leaned against the punching bag he'd been pummelling just a few moments earlier. Carly watched, unaware her mouth dangled open slightly, as he grabbed a nearby bottle of water and drank it down. Her eyes locked onto the drips of water that escaped his thirsty mouth and trailed down his chin. Unknowingly, she licked her lips.

"Like what you see Mrs. Corinthos?" he drawled out, turning his attention to her. Feeling her cheeks heat up with embarassment, she shook her head. "Of course not," she snapped. He chuckled at her flustering. "Does your husband know you're over here, giving me looks he can only wish for?"

Lying was second nature to Carly and yet here, she couldn't string two words together to shoot down his claims. With a smile Taggert sauntered towards her until he was mere inches from her. His scent assaulted her every pore, nearly overwhelming her completely. "You've looked." His voice was a low, hoarse rumble. "Are you gonna touch?"


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