EXCERPT ONE
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.
