The Voyeur Next Door (21 page)

I tensed. My gaze shot to the windows around us.

“Here?”

“Not all the way. Keep your breasts covered, but leave the front open for me.”

Keeping the phone balanced between my shoulder and ear, I lowered trembling fingers to the sash. On screen, I watched as the band came undone and the silky fabric parted down the front, revealing a long stretch of skin and the neat little triangle of lace barely covering my mound. As underwear went, it wasn’t one of my favorite. I had a problem walking around with a strip of string flossing my ass crack, but it was sexy and that was how I wanted him to remember me.

“Turn around and show me the back.”

Cotton mouthed, I did as he said. I turned, folded my arms against the railing, parted my feet and thrust out my hips just enough to drive the robe hem over the globes of my ass.

Q groaned in my ear.
“Do you think the neighbors would notice if I were to fuck you right there?”

“I don’t think I would care,” I panted.

“You wouldn’t mind if I stripped you naked, leaned you over those bars, and rammed my cock deep inside you?”

I shifted as the pressure pulsed between my legs like a second heartbeat. The bit of soaked fabric nestled against my core rubbed uncomfortably against my flesh. Every nerve in me wanted to shove the useless pieces of string down my legs and touch myself.

“Take off your panties.”

God, it was like the man was inside my head.

“No, stay there.”

Another hot rush of arousal further ruined my panties, but I stopped myself from heading inside. My fingers reached inside my robes and hooked into the straps running over my hips. Gingerly, I lowered them down my legs and over my feet. The warm air kissed my bare lips and smoothed over the dampness now exposed to the entire world.

“Toss your panties to me.”

My eyes widened as I stared at the dark drapes keeping him from me. The distance wasn’t far. I could easily pitch the wad over. But then he’d have my panties, dripping with my juices.

Heart thumping loudly beneath my breast, I bunched the fabric up tight, drew back my arm and heaved it across. I bit my lip as I watched it soar and prayed the wind didn’t snatch it up and carry it off to someone else’s veranda. It didn’t. It landed perfectly in the middle of his terrace.

“Good. Now, turn around.”

I turned away from his doors and faced the webcam, my robes open to the day and him. But his window was empty save for the sofa.

“Q?”

“Stay there.”

I stayed and waited, and jumped when the doors behind me opened. I heard the shuffle of movement and pictured him bending down to pick up my present. I held my breath.

“You’re so wet, Aoife,”
he drawled into my ear and my stomach muscles wrenched. I felt the wet slither of my arousal trickle down the insides of my thighs.
“Make yourself come for me, right now. Spread your legs, press your ass against the bars and let me watch.”

He was still right behind me. I could feel the heat of his presence without turning around. Plus the video on my laptop was still only showing the sofa.

“I want to watch you this time, too,” I gasped into the receiver.

“Fair enough.”

There was silence as I waited for something to happen. Behind me, something wooden squeaked against concrete. Then the video gave a shudder and began to move away from the sofa. A minute later, I had a view of the terrace, of my back and my window. He appeared in view, topless with his pants jerked down around his hips and his large hands wrapped around a long, hard cock.

“Better?”

“Yes!” I half moaned, half breathed.

“Play with her.”

I did. I shoved aside the robes to give him full access to all of me. With my back to the other windows, I felt a little braver as I let my fingers dance over the rigid peaks of my breasts and down the expense of my stomach to delve into the place I wanted him. In the video, his hand stroked in time to my pumps, so I quickened my pace, picturing my fingers being his cock. The hand gripping the phone to my ear trembled and I clutched the plastic tighter as I slumped back into the cold iron, my muscles tense.

“I’m coming,” I choked out.

My body tensed as the first wave slammed into me. My toes curled into the concrete and my head dropped back with my delirious whimper of his name. In my ear, Q grunted and I watched as his cock twitched and thick, white ropes of come splashed to the ground. The fat, purple head glistened and the veins pulsed along the bottom. I had an inexplicable urge to lick him clean.

“Aoife?”
He sounded as out of breath as I was.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
He blew out a breath.
“I need your pussy. I need to be inside you.”

The place he wanted clenched with enthusiasm and willing eagerness.

“Me too,” I whispered, my fingers moving lazily over the swollen nub already begging for another round. “I want you so much.”

I knew he was watching. I could feel his eyes on my hand as I came a second time and it only heightened my desire to feel him stretching me around the cock reawakening in his hand.

“We’ll think of something,”
he promised darkly.
“I will have you.”

“God, when?” I choked out as two fingers slipped seamlessly past the tight ring of my pussy.

“Soon!
”

Gabriel

The construction on the ramp was going to take a week, the one named Jeff informed me as we went over the very thorough plans I had drawn up for him and his men. Several of the parts had to be ordered in and he wasn’t sure when they would arrive.

As someone who dealt with ordering parts, I knew the process. It didn’t mean I liked it. That was a week of money going out and no money coming in. But I had known that when I started saving up for it almost a year ago. It was a lengthy and costly project, one that needed to be done.

Earl was very seldom at the shop anymore, not like he used to be when I was younger. I knew it was his leg. The old coot was too proud and stubborn to say as much, but I knew. I also knew that the shop was his life and being away hurt him.

“Get her done,” was all I told Jeff. “I want it done by Wednesday.”

Jeff blinked. “That’s only seven days.”

“That’s a week,” I said evenly. “You said a week, Jeff.”

He nodded with a reluctance that would have made me laugh if I had the patience for it.

I left him to tell his men and made my way out of the garage towards my Jeep Cherokee parked out in the driveway. Using the front bumper, I hefted myself up and sat on the hood; with the stairs up to the loft gone, there was really nowhere else for me to go without leaving altogether and I wasn’t leaving a bunch of strangers alone with thousands of dollars’ worth of tools and equipment.

Most of the day had been lost watching them work. I wasn’t one for playing games on my phone, or texting. My phone never even got used unless it was to make a call. Tammy thought I was insane and couldn’t understand why I didn’t worship my phone the way she did hers. I didn’t even have any apps downloaded. It was basic with my contacts and the odd photo. So I had absolutely nothing to preoccupy my mind as I sat there, in temperatures that could fry eggs and watched as my shop was put back together.

“Hi.”

The quiet murmur of uncertainty propelled my heart up into my throat with a jolt of excitement and dread.

It wasn’t because I wasn’t expecting anyone to come up behind it. It was because that voice sent a scuttle of electricity coursing down the length of my spine to fill my cock with blood, and there was no reason for it.

I turned my head, not sure who to expect and was surprised to find Ali inching towards me, face bunched against the sun. A tote bag hung from her fingers, bumping against her legs. Her hair was twisted up in its habitual knot and she had her purse strapped across her chest like a machine gun. But it was her outfit that gave me pause. Her usual baggy blouse and flowy skirts were replaced by a white t-shirt tucked into a short, navy blue skirt that stopped inches from the tops of her knees. A slim, brown belt nipped around her waist, matching the sandals strapped to her feet. I had never seen so much skin on her before. I honestly hadn’t even been sure she had legs, yet there they were, long, toned and beautiful with slender feet that were tipped with coral pink toes. Her body was lithe with curves in all the places I liked them on a woman, especially around the hips and the swell of her breasts straining the front of her top. My sanity almost missed her old clothes.

“Hi,” I forced, praying to God she wouldn’t notice the bulge pushing up the front of my pants. “What are you doing here?”

She shifted uncomfortably. Her hand drifted down the front of her skirt and twisted around the strap of her purse. I followed the motion and my gaze lingered on her legs; she had great legs. The kind that could wrap forever around a man as he drove her into the mattress with every vicious thrust. It was completely inappropriate and did nothing to appease my hard on, but I couldn’t stop staring.

“I walked by earlier and noticed you were sitting out here,” she explained. “I kind of figured you still would be.”

That didn’t really tell me anything. But I wouldn’t complain. She was a better sight than the six hairy men working on rebuilding my shop.

“Did you need something?” I wondered.

“Need?” she echoed, testing out the word. “No, I was actually thinking … I mean…” She set the tote bag down at her feet and bent down. I watched the rise of her skirt over her thighs as she shook out a brown paper bag and held it out to me. “I thought you might be hungry.”

I blinked, having been too caught up in the new stretch of skin exposed.

“It’s only a pizza,” she said. “And I didn’t touch it.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. I honestly wasn’t sure I would have cared. Food was food and I was starving, more for her than food, but I would take whichever I could get.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said instead, eyeing the bag.

“I know.” She gave it a little shake. “But I was out anyway so…” Her arm began to lower. “If you don’t want it—”

I grabbed it before she could take it away. She continued to stand there and watch me as I tore it open and peered inside.

There were three slices of pizza wrapped in silver foil, a bag of chips and a cold bottle of water. I took out the first slice and pushed back the wrapper.

“Well…” She began edging away. “I’ll let you eat and see you—”

“It’s going to take a week,” I said, chomping down on the juicy explosion of tomato sauce, pepperoni, and cheese.

“That’s crazy,” she said, but made no further effort to leave. “What are you going to do for a week?”

I shrugged, taking another bite. “Wait for them to finish.”

Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth and she peered contemplatively at the shop again.

“That’s going to suck for business,” she mused at last. “Being closed that long.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you stay open while they worked?” she wondered. “True no one can get to the loft for lunch, but you can still work in the shop.”

I paused eating to study the bay doors. “What about the phones and paperwork?” I glanced at her. “Your space.”

She shrugged. “I can work from anywhere,” she said, fishing her phone out from somewhere in that monster-sized purse of hers. “I’ll forward the office to my cell and all I really need is a chair and a clipboard.”

I eyed her. “Do you really want to come back to work?” I teased her. “This could be like a vacation.”

She snorted. “I’ve been on vacation for three months.”

I rubbed the pizza crumbs off my fingers onto my worn jeans. “I’ll think about it.” Now that some of the gnawing pain had subdued, I focused more closely on the sliver of crust gripped between my fingers. “How did you know pepperoni and cheese was my favorite?” Or that I usually had three slices, or that Mamma Tomas was my favorite pizza.

“I’m observant,” she stated simply. “You always have pizza on Wednesdays from the same place, except you always get Dr. Pepper, but I figured since you’re sitting out in the heat all day, water was a better option.”

I wasn’t sure which of those things caught at my attention more, the fact that she watched me, or that I was so predictable.

“Thanks,” I said, not sure what else to say.

She nodded.

“What do you eat on Wednesdays?” I asked, realizing I had never once seen her eat anything.

Ali shrugged, refusing to meet my gaze. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I should leave you to eat. I left a mess on my bed that needs to be cleaned.”

With a wave of her fingers, she was gone before I could pull myself out of images of her bed, which oddly enough, looked a lot like Aoife’s.

I was exhausted from the heat by the time I got home and showered. All I could think about was climbing into bed and sleeping. I even glanced longingly at the sheets before reminding myself I promised Aoife I would see her at seven.

Something was different. I couldn’t momentarily put my finger on it. Then it hit me; she wore a different robe, but it wasn’t just that. There was a light radiating on her that seemed to illuminate her pale skin in all the places the scrap of fabric didn’t cover. It shimmered over the thick waves cascading down around her shoulders in a dark waterfall. Unlike her peach colored robes, this one was white and lacy and delved deep between high, firm breasts that strained the material to an inch of its life. It was pinned together by a sash, but even that seemed to be knotted very loosely, like at any moment, the whole thing could come undone.

“Christ.”

“Hi,”
she whispered, her voice holding more than just a hint of nerves.

“Open your legs.”

If at any point I ever doubted her outfit change wasn’t designed to deliberately torture me, it was overruled when her knees immediately parted and I was given a glimpse of the white triangle of lace nestled in between.

“Did you wear that for me?”

“Yes.”
Her fingers toyed with the end of the sash.
“I bought a few new outfits today.”

“Jesus.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Her giggle was endearing.
“Yes.”

I let my hand drop down into my lap and I traced the curves and lines of her body hugged by that useless bit of clothing. It concealed nothing. I could clearly make out the faint outlines of her nipples, and with her knees parted, the indents of her pussy lips.

“And what were you hoping to accomplish by wearing that?” I wondered, my voice tight with my own building, and painful, arousal. “Would you take it off if I tell you and sit there beautifully naked for me?”

Her chest rose and fell quickly, pushing the spongy mounds tighter against the front of her robe.

“Yes.”

“Do it,” I instructed. “Take it off.”

Her fingers were visibly trembling when she reached for the sash. It came undone easily and the robe slipped over her shoulders and down her arms. It was carelessly tossed aside and she sat before me with her knees folded beneath her and her hands resting lightly in her lap. In that position, with her shoulders squared and her back straight, her breasts were thrust forward proudly, the nipples tight and dark against the soft pallor of her skin. The sight of them made my mouth water and my hands ached to touch, to tease and torment until she was a writhing mess beneath me.

“Open your legs wider.”

Her knees parted until I could see the narrow stretch of fabric thinning to practically a thread all the way up the valley of her ass.

“Turn around.”

She scooted back and turned. The camera shuddered as she showed me the slender length of her spine to where an elaborate rose design sat at the small of her back, keeping the bits of string in place over her pussy.

“Bend down on your forearms and lift your ass to the camera.”

There was no hesitation. Her body slid forward. Her back arched as she lifted her hips into the air. The bit of string nestled along her sex barely covered the smooth, wet stretch of skin. But it did the job. It gave me just enough to want more. It made me want to be back there. I wanted to be the one to push aside the string and reach between her thighs. I wanted to be the one to push her forward and line myself up with her opening. Instead, all I could do was envy a piece of fabric and palm my cock.

“Touch her. Slowly.”

Slim fingers glided up the lips of her pussy and spread to cover her mound. She traced the thread from ass to clit in a slow stroke and I inwardly swore. The pale material was soaked over her slit and getting wetter the longer she touched.

I was tempted to tell her to show me, to push the barricade aside and let me see what I would claim first chance I got. But I refrained. I let her run the show. I let her play the instrument that was her own body and enjoyed the symphony she made with every gasp, moan, and sigh.

My patience paid off. Her fingers hooked her panties and nudged them aside, revealing smoothly shaven lips and delicately folded skin making up one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen.

While all women had a vagina, any man will tell you that no two ever look the same, and odds were, most were downright frightening. I had only ever been with one other woman, but I had seen enough pussy in my life just from visiting the clubs with Regina that I recognized the difference. Sex was an open concept in most underground playgrounds. Not all pussies fascinated, or turned me on. Aoife had a beautiful pussy. It was perfect, tight and compact and just the right amount of pink. Her slit glistened like an invitation that was liberally leaking down to coat her swollen clit.