Leaving the kitchen, I reach back and yank my shirt over my head. Maybe a cold shower will help get my body under control. I’m just walking past the windows in my living room when something catches my eye. I look out the window and notice the lights on in the apartment across from mine. My dick instantly takes notice. My eyes scan the rooms one at a time, before they find movement in her kitchen.
Without looking, I reach for the binoculars sitting on the table by the window. A small smile claims my lips when I see her chugging down a bottle of water. When she pulls it away, her chest heaves, and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her head falls back on her shoulders and she closes her eyes. The fuck I wouldn’t give to rake my teeth up the slender column and bite the base.
She puts the bottle on the counter and leaves the kitchen, flipping the light off as she goes. She’s out of view for a moment, and when I see her again, her dress is gone and she’s in nothing but a pair of skimpy black panties. I push out a breath when I see her tits bounce as she walks into the bathroom. She leaves the door open, but I can’t see what she’s doing. A moment later, she comes out, sits on the side of her bed, then starts rubbing lotion on her arms and legs.
This is absolutely fucking torture, watching her lotion herself. It’s almost as painful as it was watching her tonight on that dance floor. It t
ook every bit of will I had in me to stay in my seat and not approach her. As much as I loved seeing her dancing for me—and she was dancing for me—I still craved to run my hands up and down her body. When she boldly slipped her fingers beneath her skirt, I damn near shot my load in my jeans.
I held myself back, by some miracle fucking force, from coming, and from going to her. I was shocked to see her at first, and that’s the one thing that held me back. I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for her or for what I know she’ll do to me. I’ve never really entertained the thought of meeting her in person until this morning when I saw her on the street. Tonight, in the club, so soon after I saw her for the first time in the flesh, I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of being close enough to touch. I still needed time, but that didn’t stop me from moving closer to get a better look. And what a fucking look I got. She was so much more than I thought she would be. Add in that she obviously got off on me watching her, and it made her ten times more appealing.
She puts the lotion down on the nightstand, lifts her head, and I swear to fucking God, looks right in my direction. My body tenses when I realize there’s no way she could miss me looking at her, not with my fucking lights on behind me, practically showcasing me standing there. I don’t lower the binoculars, but I hold real still, hoping really damn hard that there are several tenants in my building with lights on so my unit doesn’t stick out so much.
A hiss slips out with my heavy exhale when she turns and slips beneath the covers. Disappointment hits me when she switches her light off. I stand there with the binoculars to my eyes for several minutes, before deciding I’ll get no more from her tonight. Even the prospect of almost getting caught doesn’t dampen my need to watch her touch herself.
I blow out another deep breath before putting the binoculars down. I walk to the bathroom and turn on my shower. My jeans come off, then I’m under the spray, my hand gripping my cock. My strokes start out slow, to images of my girl playing with her pussy. I couldn’t see underneath the skirt, but I know what she looks like from watching her from my apartment. However, I now crave a closer look.
I imagine being on my knees right in front of her, lifting her skirt and watching her fuck herself up close. The juices that would run down her thighs and the soft cries that would leave her lips. And her smell…. A growl sounds deep in my chest. She’ll smell fucking fantastic. Like vanilla or strawberries or fucking roses.
My hand speeds up and it doesn’t take long before my balls are drawing up and there’s a spark at the base of my spine. I’ve been on edge ever since I saw her at Blackie’s. One little shove is all it takes to push me over. It’s the image of her face when she came tonight that has me plummeting.
I brace one hand on the wall before me, my other wringing out the last of my orgasm. My head hangs while I catch my breath.
Once I’m done with my shower, I get out, dry off, and walk naked to my bed. The cool sheets feel damn good against my heated skin. I lie back with my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.
The chances of seeing the woman again outside of her apartment are slim. The two years I’ve been watching her, it’s never happened. But it’s happened twice in less than twenty-four hours. She’s also usually not home on Wednesday nights, but she was tonight.
I fall asleep with the thought that if I ever see her in the flesh again, I won’t keep my distance. She’ll know just what her little show at Blackie’s did to me, and I’ll demand a repeat.
***
THE NEXT DAY, I’M STRUNG TIGHT, and I have no fucking clue why. Or rather, I do, but I don’t want to admit it. The woman has my mind wrapped so tightly around her that I can’t think of anything else. I’ve never been so consumed by something that it makes me feel like I’m losing my shit.
The first thing I do when I get up is head straight for my binoculars, then clench my jaw when it appears she’s already left her apartment. After dressing and drinking a cup of coffee, I leave for work. My eyes scan the streets as soon as I step foot on the sidewalk. At the office, I half listen to Willow as she gives me the few messages she has for me. There were a couple times I snapped at her; the second time she called me out on it.
“What is your problem?” she asked, her hands propped on her hips and her eyes narrowed.
“Nothing,” I grunted.
“Lie,” she called out when I passed her on my way back to my office. “You’re more grouchy than usual. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but could you tone the temper down a fraction? It’s giving me a headache.”
I stopped, my back going straight, and turned my head slightly her way. “Sorry,” I muttered, then finished going into my office.
I found myself several times at the window, looking down at the people walking by, looking for her. Which was fucking stupid, because the chance of her walking by my building in such a big city was an idiot thing to even consider. Still didn’t stop me from doing it three more times.
I had a late meeting, and by the time it was over, the sun was already creeping behind the horizon. I left work with every intention of going home. I meant to turn left out of the parking garage toward home, but I didn’t. I turned right, toward Blackie’s. I told myself that I would go in for just one drink, to take the edge off, then leave. I wasn’t going to see if she happened to be there.
Now here I am, walking into Blackie’s. I do what I always do when I first get here and head to the bar for my usual two shots of Jameson. I slam them back, then turn to the dance floor. With the hour still early, the place isn’t as crowded, but there’s still enough people to make it difficult to find someone if you were looking.
I sit with my back facing the bar and slowly let my eyes roam over the room. The lights are low, but I still make out the people on the dance floor. After going over the room a couple times and not seeing her, I turn back to the bar.
Pissed at myself for letting some random chick get to me, I yank my wallet out of my pocket, ready to get the fuck out of here. I’m pulling out a twenty, when shivers race down my spine only seconds before I hear a feminine laugh. My body tightens, and my dick twitches, like it knows who the laugh belongs to. I turn my head and see a woman standing about five feet from me. Her back is to me and she’s talking to a man. On closer inspection, I see that it’s Wyatt, an old friend.
Stuffing the wallet back in my pocket, I sit back and watch her, ordering another couple of Jamesons as I wait. After several minutes, she turns so more of her is facing me. If I were a lesser man, I’d be fucking drooling right now. She laughs at something Wyatt says, her head tilted back slightly, showing off the column of her neck. Tonight she’s wearing a deep purple shirt that again leaves her shoulders bare. Her skirt is loose and is slightly higher on one side. On her feet are black fuck-me heels. Her hair is left down, but pulled over one shoulder.
She says something to Wyatt and he nods with a smile, then she turns and walks away. My eyes follow her as she turns down the hallway toward the bathroom. I get up and follow. I’m not leaving here tonight without a taste.
The hallway is a little more lit than the main floor, but not by much. There are several doors leading off it. Men’s room, women’s room, one leads to the kitchen, one is a storage room, and the one at the end I know is Lukas’s office. I stop a few feet away from the women’s room and rest my back against the wall.