Peeping Tom

Jenny felt the eyes crawling over her skin while she peeled her clothes away. She caught the shape of her stepson through the cracked door, chest heaving like he'd just run a mile. Out of breath for nothing. She didn't hesitate. Slipped out into the hall, blocked his exit. You were watching me, she said, calm as dead water. He stood there, hands twitching at his sides, caught cold. Jenny didn't wait for the lie. Her voice dropped lower. I saw you. That look you gave me last week when I bent for my bag. Same face you're wearing now. Heat jumped off her like a furnace, anger mixed with something darker. You like staring at what you shouldn't, don't you? She stepped closer, letting the robe fall just enough to bare the line of her hip. Go ahead. Keep looking. Let's see how far you're willing to take this.