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By: Cindi Madsen
Releasing
May 8, 2017
Entangled Embrace
Entangled Embrace
BLURB:
Confession #1: I used to be a puck
bunny, but after a hockey player broke my heart, I gave up all things hockey.
Now I’m just focused on finding a way to pass my math class so I can graduate
college.
Confession #2:
Ryder “Ox” Maddox’s
deep, sexy voice sends fuzzy tingles through my entire body, and I’m powerless
to stop it. Which is a big problem since the hot, surprisingly funny hockey
player is my new math tutor.
Confession #3:
I can’t stop
thinking about how ripped Ryder is from all his hockey training, and how fun
it’d be to cross lines with him.
Confession #4:
I kissed a hockey
player and I liked it.
Confession #5: If I’m not careful, I might relapse
and fall for Ryder, and then I’ll be totally pucked.
Every thought turned to how strong
he was. How much I’d like to see all those muscles without a shirt in the way.
Once he’d counted off twenty-five,
he stood and, as if he’d been reading my mind, peeled off his shirt.
I stared. Not subtly, either. Nope,
totally unabashed, taking in every dip and groove of his sweat-glistened skin.
“Since we’re playing dirty,” he
said, shooting his wadded shirt over to his bag. He grabbed my hand. “Last
machine. I’m not sure you can handle it, though.”
“I’m not sure you can handle it.” As far as comebacks went, not my best, but I
mentioned he was shirtless and crazy ripped, right?
He sat down on the leg machine, the
one where the seat reclined at a forty-five-degree
angle, and then he lifted the weighted bar that rested at shin-height with his
legs.
He reached for my hand, and since
I’d already talked trash, I took it, even though I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He pulled
me toward him, and I had no choice but to run my shins into the weights or to
straddle the machine. I chose straddling, but kept space between us like I had
earlier.
My heart hammered against my rib
cage, beating in time with his leg lifts, the steady clink of the weights
filling the air. Ryder’s eyes remained locked on mine, and energy crackled in
the air between us. He sat up enough to run his hands up my thighs.
A dart of heat shot through my core,
and my breath lodged in my throat. Ryder’s fingertips skimmed the skin between
my pants and shirt and desire danced across my nerve endings.
Still our eyes remained fixed on each other, and I wasn’t sure I was taking in
oxygen anymore.
A distant part of me whispered that
if I didn’t stop this…whatever we were doing, I’d be in trouble. But fighting
my attraction to him was exhausting and the ache that’d formed between my
thighs grew more persistent, drowning out silly things like common sense.
I leaned over like I had before, my
hands braced on either side of him. He lifted the weights again, and then he
brushed his lips against mine. Just a quick slide of soft lips.
My throat went completely dry. I
pressed my palm flat against his stomach and slowly slid it up, feeling his
firm chest and the hammering of his heart, which echoed mine.
Ryder gripped my hips and pulled me
down to sit on his lap, eradicating the space between us. He lifted the weights
with his legs a few more times, each rep bumping me tighter to him. Friction
was definitely happening, and with each lift, it became clearer and clearer how
much it was affecting him as well.
The tiniest whimper escaped my lips
and he raised an eyebrow that added even more smugness to the curve of his
tempting mouth.
Two could play dirty. So I sank
farther into his lap and he groaned.
Of course, all it did was give me
dirty thoughts and turn me on that much more.
He lifted his legs two more times,
the movement shaky. He slowly ran his fingertips up my arm, across my
collarbone, up my neck, and then he reached back and tugged my hair free of its
ponytail.
He drove his hand into my hair, cupped
the back of my head, and for one torturous moment, time stopped, both of us
suspended right there on edge of crossing lines.
Cindi
Madsen is a USA Today bestselling author of
contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every
chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters.
Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She
has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a pretty new pair,
especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music and
dancing and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where
summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three
children.
You can
visit her Website, where you can sign up
for her newsletter to get all the up-to-date information on her books. 
What a great excerpt. I can't wait until Ryder's story.
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