11
Grif
Anna’s mouth fell open at my words, her lower lip as soft and lush as I remembered. She wasn’t wearing her poker face now. The various emotions that flitted across her face were easy to read: sadness, confusion, surprise. I’d caught her completely off guard, just as I’d wanted. She couldn’t shore up her walls of defense that been in place last week. At the police station. In my office at Scorch. She looked more like the Anna I’d met at the wedding reception. Soft, endearing, honest.
To keep those walls down, I needed to distract her, to make her forget about erecting them. I knew just how to do that. I closed the final few feet between us, took the dirty clothes from her hands and dropped them back on the floor at our feet.
The hell of it was, I’d wanted her then, I still wante
