James was already waiting. He stood against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched so tightly she could see the tension rippling through him. His head was bowed, but the moment she stepped inside, he looked up. And in an instant, he was in front of her.
Before she could speak, James locked the door, his movements sharp, desperate. Then, with a gentleness that contradicted the storm raging in his eyes, he cupped the back of her head and pressed her against the wall-trapping her between his warmth and the cold, unforgiving tile.
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