“I would’ve thought that’d be the highlight of your year. Joana’s face meets the floor.” “I’d enjoy throwing you on a bed more.” It falters her stride. “Or I’d push you against the wall—I think you’d like the wall,” Beckett says, his voice so sensual and smooth, if I were blindfolded I’d believe he was fucking her out in the open. Jo has lost her bearings. Their eyes are locked.
