Page 70 of Best Served Cold

Something tugged at my chest as Zane finger-combed his thick hair back from his face.

My eyes tracked his hand.

Zane had nice hands, but I couldn’t pinpoint why I liked them. His palms were wide, his fingers long and thick with well-trimmed nails and prominent veins that seemed to always be popped up.

The light dusting of hair on the back of his hand, and the thicker sprinkling on his forearms, reminded me how they looked when he was hauling drywall around. Strong, capable, and able to bring me to my knees with a single touch.

Bang!

A loud crash, followed by cheers, startled me back to reality.

“Nail polish?” I asked, only then noticing Zane’s nails were crudely painted with black polish.

“Got a problem with it?” he asked with a glare.

“No.”

“Gray’s little sister did them.”

“Gray’s sister?”

I remembered Gray had four younger siblings but I didn’t know much about them.

He nodded, still glaring at me like he was waiting for me to start teasing him. “Lyla. She’s four.”

I looked more closely at the polish job. “She’s got a steady hand for only being four.”

“Steady hand? Are you an artist or something?”

“Or something,” I said evasively. River hadn’t told him about my paintings?

“Here ya go.” River shoved a cup at me.

“Thanks.” I took a dutiful sip. The beer was warm, but it went down fine.

“It’s lite beer,” River said, switching his nearly empty cup with Zane’s almost full one. “I forgot to get a refill,” he explained at my questioning look. “Got distracted by Jon.”

“Jon?”

“Yeah.” River snickered. “He tried to slide down the banister and totally wiped out.”

“Is he okay?”

“Oh yeah. He’s fine. He does that all the time.”

Zane lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip.

My eyes locked on his throat, at the slow bob of his Adam’s apple. A pulse of need warmed my abdomen as I remembered how his mouth had felt on my cock.

I schooled my expression and lifted my gaze to Zane’s face. He was watching me in that intense way that never failed to send a shiver of awareness through me. Like he wasn’t just looking at me, but was seeing my innermost thoughts and deepest, darkest secrets.

He lowered the cup and slowly dragged his tongue over his full bottom lip.

My cock throbbed, then twinged. I was hard as a rock, but my dick was angled down and didn’t have a lot of room to expand.

That little bit of pain helped ground me, and I met Zane’s stare with one I hoped looked as unbothered as he appeared.

“D’you have a good weekend?”

---