John’s poker face disappeared, morphing into something that looked equal parts lust and rage. His hands found my wrists again, pushed me roughly so my back settled against the tiles once more.
‘What do you do when you want something you can’t have?’ he ground out. His blue eyes were bright, a dead giveaway about the state of his mind. When he fired up, they spoke loud and clear. I knew because I’d been looking away from them for years, afraid that if I stared too long, I’d get lost in them. And I could absolutely, definitely, categorically, not get lost in John Portland’s eyes for even one second.
He. Was. Dornan’s. Best. Friend.
‘I wait,’ I whispered, my own convictions sliding away like melted butter as he rested a hand on my hip, just above my panties, and squeezed.
I thought about the money I’d stockpiled. Emilio’s dirty money. My escape plan, for a rainy day. And it was pouring with rain right now.
‘When nobody’s looking, I take it.’
His eyes burned into me.
‘Nobody’s looking, Ana.’
Something inside me snapped, like an elastic band that had been pulled and pulled until it broke apart. I was starving. Not for food. For affection. For understanding. For the touch of a man who wasn’t trying to hurt me.
We came together in a frenzy, lips crashing on lips, hands everywhere. I pulled him close to me, sighing into his mouth as I felt how hard he was against me, only his jeans separating us.