The undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin.....Just movement. The soft, irregular thud of something shifting against the desk. The faint clink of jewelry, metal brushing skin.
I walked into the office without knocking.
Then I looked up.
Zane was behind his desk. Jacket still on. Shirt sleeves rolled back like he hadn't planned on company. A woman was bent forward in front of him, blonde hair spilling down her back, one hand braced on the polished wood like she needed it to stay upright.
It took my brain a second too long to catch up.
My stomach dropped so hard it felt like my knees might follow.
I should've backed out. Quietly. Pretended I'd never seen it. But my body locked in place, hand still wrapped around the door handle, lungs forgetting how to work.
Zane looked up.
Our eyes met.
Something shifted in his expression. Not surprise. Not guilt. Awareness. Like he'd known I'd be there the second I walked onto the floor.
He didn't move away from her.
