Page 13 of The Break Down

She lifts the camera again, her mouth pursed in focus, but I can tell her hands are shaking.

Just a little.

Like maybe she’s feeling it too.

Good.

Because I’ve been drenched in this slow torture since I laid eyes on the fiery little redhead, and if I’m going down, she’s coming with me.

Good idea.

In fact, maybe I’ve been thinking about this all wrong.

I shift, stepping toward her.

Not enough to crowd, but enough to make her pause.

Her finger freezes over the shutter button.

“Getting what you need, sweetheart?” I ask, voice low, rough.

She blinks up at me, her eyes flashing green fire at me.

“Excuse me?”

“The shots,” I say, letting a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. “You’ve been staring at my thighs for a full minute. Just making sure you’re capturing the angles that really matter.”

Her cheeks flush.

Glorious.

“That’s not what I’m—I mean, I wasn’t—” she stammers, clearly outraged, then narrows her eyes. “Wow. You really do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

I chuckle, stepping in one more stride.

Now we’re toe to toe.

Her head tips back slightly to keep looking up at me.

“You say that like you weren’t drooling a second ago.”

“I wasn’t drooling,” she snaps, but her voice goes a little breathless. “I was documenting.”

“Is that what you call it?”

I lean down, just a hair. Just enough for her to feel my breath near her ear.

“What are you?—”

“Want me on the ground for the next one? Or are we done here, Red?”

She blinks. The vein at the base of her throat is racing like mad.

“What?”

“I said, are we past the professional portion of this little photo shoot?”

Her breath catches, but she rallies, because of course she does.

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