Page 103 of Broken Pieces
Every single fucking time.
I move down the steps, the thud of my shoes echoing in the quiet workshop.
There’s that pull in my spine again that tells me he’s watching.
Halfway down, I stop and glance over my shoulder.
“Am I going the right way?”
His eyes drag up slow.
Not rushed. Not even pretending to hide the fact that he was staring at my ass.
“Were you—” I narrow my eyes. “Were you checking out my ass?”
Zane smirks. “If you’re gonna wear a skirt that short, you can’t be mad when someone appreciates the view.”
Heat prickles across my chest. I turn back, gripping the rail tighter.
“Are you always this cocky, or is this special performance just for me?”
“Sweetheart, you bring it out in me.”
I move down another step, like putting space between us might save me from the heat crawling up my spine.
“You’re such a dick,” I mutter, gripping the railing until my knuckles turn white.
His laugh follows me down the steps.
“You say that like it’s news.”
“So,” I bite out. “Which way? Or are we just gonna stand here while you eye-fuck me to death?”
He brushes past me, his shoulder grazing mine. I catch the smell of him and it fucks with my head.
“Head to the front door,” he says over his shoulder. “Metal steps are to the right. Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
Zane flicks on the workshop lights.
The overheads buzzing to life with a low electric hum. The room spills into a warm amber glow, casting shadows against thefar wall where a metal ladder climbs straight through a square cut-out in the ceiling.
I spot it immediately.
No fucking way I’m going first and giving him a front-row seat to my ass.
He strides to the base of the ladder and stops, turning slightly toward me. One hand curls around the rail. He waits.
“It’s steep,” he says. “I’ll help you up.”
“I’m not helpless. And I’m not giving you a full view of my ass on a silver platter so you can jerk off to it later.”
He barks out a laugh, head dropping back for a second before he looks at me, grin crooked.
“Sky, if I was gonna do that, I wouldn’t need the view. Your ass has been living rent-free in my head for weeks.”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
He plants a foot on the rung and glances over his shoulder. “But if you want an excuse to stare at my ass, Sky, all you had to do is ask.”
