With a growl, he flipped her onto her back and fucked her until neither of them could move.
Then they slept. Hearts beating in sync, bodies entangled, blissfully content, they slept until nightfall.
She woke in the dimly lit room, dying of thirst. Tommy didn’t stir beside her.
Careful not to disturb him, she slipped from the bed, dressed in the bathroom, and crept into the hall in search of something to drink.
Voices drifted from the living room at the far end. Soft whispers. The team was awake.
She wasn’t keen on facing a gang of armed criminals alone. But if she wanted a life with Tommy, they would have to accept her. She would have to trust them.
Steeling her spine, she adjusted her t-shirt and jeans and strode down the hall.
Halfway there, a partially opened door gave her pause. Light glowed from within, the flooring different from the rest of the house. Polished hardwoods.
No furniture was visible through the crack. Was that…a mirrored wall?
She shifted, stealing another angle, and spotted Cole sitting on the floor near the back wall, surrounded by beer bottles.
Curiosity and concern pulled her closer. She opened the door.
A dance room. Holy shit, it was beautiful. Massive. Twelve-foot-tall seamless windows soared to the rafters. Mirrors covered the other walls, and ballet bars wrapped the entire room. There was a lounge area with a leather couch, a built-in stereo system, and a dancing pole in the back corner.
All built for the dancer who was tattooed on his arm.
Her heart sank to her stomach.
Cole glanced at his watch and dropped his head back against the wall, eyes shut. “Forty-five seconds.”
“What?”
“There’s a rumor going around that Tomas is packing a ten-inch dick.”
The random comments gave her whiplash. “It’s not a rumor.”
He nodded, finished off his beer, and grabbed two more. “Want one?”
“Sure?” Uncertain, she left the door cracked behind her and joined him on the floor.
They drank in silence.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him look around the room, his eyes flickering as if he were tracking an invisible dancer as she swayed through her routine, her feet scuffing and bouncing across the shiny flooring.
Shadows crept over his expression, and he blinked, looking away.
“Do you want to talk about her?”
“Nope.” He popped the P.
“How long has it been, Cole?”
How long have you been hurting?
“She married my best friend seven years ago.” He tipped his beer toward the door, his voice gruff. “Your forty-five seconds has arrived.”
She followed his gaze and found Tommy standing on the threshold.
CHAPTER 23
Tomas couldn’t ignore the territorial feeling in his gut as he took in the unexpected room filled with ballet bars, mirrored walls, empty beer bottles, and his girl.
His gorgeous girl. Swigging beer. With the only single man in the house.
Yeah. He was feeling territorial. They’d just made a monumental step in a fragile, new relationship, and she’d sneaked out of their bed to chug beers with this guy.
Drawing in a deep breath, he slowed his roll and leaned a shoulder against the door frame.
Rylee sat on the floor with her legs crossed, her gaze ticking between him and Cole before settling on Cole. “Forty-five seconds…?”
“The time it took Tomas to throw on his clothes and chase after you.” Cole rested an arm on his bent knee, a beer bottle dangling from his hand. “I know the drill. I used to be just like him.”
“You used to be overbearing, unpleasantly arrogant, heavy-handed, and moody?” A twinkle lit her eyes.
“All of that and worse,” Cole said, expressionless.
“He still is.” Tomas slipped his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, fighting the urge to drag her back to bed.
They had a lot of work to do—phone tracking, computer hacking, and high-tech spying—that heavily relied on Cole’s expertise. The man shouldn’t be drinking, but Tomas wasn’t here to nag him. The guy was dependable.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asked Cole.
“I don’t care what you do.” He leaned back against the wall, settling in with a long draw from his beer.
Turning toward Tomas, she shot him a look that said she wasn’t budging from this room. And she wasn’t asking him to stay.
The instinct to haul her out and spank her ass warred with all logic and reason. He needed to eat. His friends were already gathering in the living room, and he trusted her.
Proving it, he gave her a smile that caught on her face. She smiled back, and he shifted away, heading toward the kitchen.
As he stepped out of the hallway and around the corner, he paused, tensing.
Across the room, Lucia stood near the windows, crying in Tiago’s arms.
What the fuck?
He searched the living room and found Tate sitting off to the side, perched on the edge off a chair. Leaning over his lap, he braced his elbows on his knees, head down, and eyes up, watching the bizarre embrace like a hawk.