When Pheromones Collide

Logan's knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Without warning, he pulls the car over to the side of the road, flicking on the hazard lights. He turns in his seat to face me, and I can't help but squirm as I realize his pheromones seem even stronger than before.

I'm irritated by them, right? So why do I want him to lean all the way over to my side of the car and kiss me silly?

And not just kiss. I want those broad, calloused hands of his to slide beneath my shirt and—

His green eyes flash golden, sending a shiver down my spine. "Nicole," he says, his voice low and intense. "Have you ever wondered what your pheromones are doing when you're around me?"

I blink, caught off guard by the question and my dangerous fantasies. "My pheromones?"