Voyeur Extraordinaire (4 page)

I slipped out of my shoes and peeled my stained tights off. My eyes were still burning but I wasn’t going to cry. I used a wet paper towel to clean my calves, though I knew it wouldn’t help with the smell. That had to wait until later. After that I threw the towels and my stained tights into the garbage bin, put on Mona’s tights and washed my shoes under streaming water, glad that they were fake patent leather. Plastering a smile on my face, I returned into the bar where I wouldn’t be alone and where the constant buzz of conversation and laughter kept the nagging voice in my head at bay. The voice that demanded I needed to do something, change something.

***

When I came home that night, even Bruno’s yapping couldn’t disperse the silence in my apartment. My eyes were drawn to my window. A tiny glimpse wouldn’t hurt, would it? It could be my reward for my discipline from the night before and for surviving being vomited on. This time I probably wouldn't see anything exciting anyway and then I would finally be able to live my life in peace without recurring dreams of hot blond guys. ‘Well, as if that’s your biggest problem’, my nasty voice whispered in my mind.

I hastily switched off the light and took the binoculars from my top drawer before I walked toward the window and brought the binoculars to my eyes.

Within a few seconds I found the window I was searching for and my breath caught in my throat. There he stood in black boxers and was running his hand through his blond hair. How I envied the red-haired girl for being able to run her hands through his mane. The lucky girl!

Only tonight the lucky girl wasn't a redhead. I frowned. This girl had straight, dark-blond hair and looked rather ordinary. Her best features were probably her breasts, which were quite big for her small frame. She was the perfect hourglass body. She smiled, without showing her teeth. Somehow it looked fake. I didn't like her.

You’re just jealous
, my nasty little voice whispered. Adrian didn't seem to mind her faked smile as much, or maybe he just didn't notice. His gaze seemed to rest a few inches below her chin. Maybe his brain wasn't properly supplied with blood right now. If I had breasts like her, then maybe I would get his attention as well.

The woman walked toward him, swaying her hips in an exaggerated way. I worried that she might dislocate her pelvis or hip or something like that, if she kept her swaying up. Not that I hadn’t seen women walking like that before. In Jack’s bar half the waitresses had perfected the
ass-waggling and hip-swaying, since it meant more tip money for them. Personally, I didn’t think I needed my ass touched any more than it already was, so I kept walking like a normal human being. Well, except for the few times my money troubles had reached a peak and I really needed a rise in tips.

The blond woman wrapped her arms around him and started grinding herself against his body as she thrust her tongue into his mouth. It looked like she was trying to choke him with it. Despite my dislike for the woman, I couldn't take my eyes from the scene.
Or maybe because of it. Part of me wanted him to push her away, to realize what a bitch that woman was, but the other part hoped he’d at least wait until they were done.

Once again, I tried to imagine that I was the one kissing him and running my hands over his chest, feeling his hot skin. I thrust my hand into my panties when he pulled down her skirt and panties. Just like the redhead from two days ago, she was completely shaved. I couldn’t spot a single hair on her
pussy. I wondered if Adrian preferred it that way. She leaned against the wall and he lifted one of her legs and put it on his right shoulder. My eyes grew wide. I’d seen a Kamasutra book on Amy’s bookshelf once but I’d thought nobody was capable of doing all the positions. But the girl didn’t seem to have a problem bending her body to her will. She could probably do at least half of the Kamasutra positions. Maybe that was why Adrian Black had chosen her. When he started kissing the inside of her thigh, I bit down on my lip to stop myself from moaning. If my neighbors heard me, they’d probably think I’d injured myself.

The woman thrust her hands into his hair when he trailed a tongue over her. I almost cursed aloud when he shifted, so the back of his head was in the way and I couldn't see what he was doing exactly. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine how his tongue would feel, but unfortunately my imagination wasn't good in that area.

With a frustrated sigh, I opened my eyes; just in time to see him grab her thighs and lift her up, pushing her against the wall. She threw her head back when he pushed into her. I started rubbing a finger over my sensitive folds. I slipped a finger into my core and rubbed my clit with my thumb, sending shivers of pleasure through me.  Within seconds I came, but it wasn’t as intense as the last time. Somehow the knowledge that what I was experiencing wasn’t even close to the sensation the woman was feeling had ruined it for me.

A wave of guilt and shame washed over me, but not as bad as two days ago. I closed the curtains and plopped down on my bed. How I wished to feel his lips, his tongue,
his hands...

I let out a groan. If possible my obsession with Adrian Black had gotten worse.

I
didn’t sleep much that night. I couldn’t get the smell of vomit out of my nose and every time I fell asleep I dreamed of ass-slapper puking all over me. I missed my dreams of Adrian Black; they never made me feel nauseous – quite the contrary.

That thought brought a smile to my face. Bruno’s eyes peeled open and I could have sworn he raised his eyebrows. He probably couldn’t remember the last time I’d been up before 6am. I patted his head and walked toward the bath-closet to take a shower. Thirty minutes later, I was outside, taking Bruno on an early morning walk. He sniffed the grass half-heartedly, obviously displeased at having to be up this early.

The bang of a door falling shut cut through the quiet. I spun around, heart pounding. Bruno yelped and tugged at the leash, as if he was ready to pounce on anyone who dared to attack. I admired his bravery, but I knew I’d just end up protecting
him
if anything happened.

There was no danger though. I watched a woman hurry away from the front door of the luxury apartment complex. She was buttoning her blouse, blond hair messy and make-up smeared around her eyes. And then I recognized her. She was the woman I’d seen in Adrian Black’s bedroom last night. Had something happened?

“Are you okay?” I half-shouted as she hurried in my direction. Her eyes flew toward me in surprise. She hadn’t seen me before. Her expression hardened. “Everything is fucking fine,” she said. But she didn’t sound fine.

“You sure nothing is wrong?”

She stopped at a car and unlocked the door. “Adrian Black is an asshole, that’s what’s wrong,” she hissed before disappearing in her car and driving off.

Huh? Last night she’d looked quite content. Maybe she’d thought it was more than a one-night stand. Amy had been right. Adrian Black was a womanizer and a
heart-breaker. I definitely had to stay away from him. But watching him couldn’t hurt, right?

***

I stuffed a cookie into my mouth, grabbed my binoculars and perched on the windowsill. It was time for my nightly peeping Tom ritual. Sometimes I was convinced that it was the only thing that kept me going. That, and Amy bringing me coffee or green tea every morning.

She was the best neighbor and friend a girl could hope for. I didn’t know what I would do without her. Sadly, in the last couple of weeks, our time together had been limited to the hour we spent at my kitchen table every morning. Her work in the restaurant kept her busy and, of course, there was still Jared. At least she had someone to snuggle up to
at night. I had only Bruno and the few minutes I spent watching my neighbor every night.

Pathetic.

I stuffed another cookie into my mouth and directed the binoculars to Adrian's window. It was already illuminated and allowed me to watch whatever was going on in it. There was a new woman waiting in the bedroom. Long black hair and tanned skin. Would she be leaving his apartment early the next morning crying too?

I'd been watching Adrian for a little over a week and so far I hadn’t seen a woman twice with him. Apparently, he really was a womanizer like Amy had said.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that but it wasn't my business anyway. I was nothing but a voyeur and had no right to judge his choice in women. Yet, I couldn't stop wondering why he didn't settle for one of them. They were all pretty and seemed to make him happy in the bedroom. Maybe he was looking for Ms. Right, just like I was looking for Mr. Right. Who was his Ms. Right? The question almost made me snort. ‘
You probably think that woman might be you
,’ the nasty little voice whispered in my head.

Adrian stepped into the bedroom, already naked – how convenient. My fingers around the binoculars tightened and I couldn’t stop the smile from showing on my face. He didn't waste any time with foreplay. I let out a little breathy sigh when he lied back on the bed and let the woman straddle him. It was the first time that a woman was on top. Usually, Adrian was the one doing the work. Maybe he liked to be in control. For some reason that thought sent a shiver down my back.

I swear this man had a timer set for his sex sessions. Between ten and one o’clock every night he had a woman in his bed or against the wall or on the floor or against the window.

I stared down at Bruno. He was standing on his hind legs and making whiny noises, wanting to be lifted onto my lap. Bruno loved watching our neighbor just as much as I did, or maybe he only stared out of the window because he didn't have anything else to do. Which reminded me of someone whose name was Nora Clark. Never mind.

Pathetic.

Bruno let out another whine, louder this time. He was insistent and shutting him into the bathroom wouldn't work. I'd tried that two days ago and he hadn't stopped yelping until I'd let him back in. I knew I should be stricter with him but he was just too cute. Unfortunately, his actions kept distracting me from watching the events in the bedroom.

His whines got louder and with a resigned sigh I lifted him onto the desk that was positioned against windowsill. He shut up instantly and stared out of the window, leaving me to my voyeurism.

Adrian was gripping the butt of the woman so tightly, I was sure she'd have his fingerprints on her ass cheeks tomorrow. I bit my lip, wondering how my butt would look with his fingerprints on it. So far I’d only had a hand-shaped bruise on my butt once and sadly hot sex hadn’t been involved in the creation. Though, when I remembered the guy who’d caused the bruise, I was relieved.

The woman started to rotate her hips in a tempo that reminded me of a rodeo chick. I was getting dizzy just from watching her. But I had to give her that: Adrian looked pretty impressed.

I felt all hot and bothered, and let my hand wander into my panties. But just when I started to relieve some of the tension, panting alerted me to the fact that I wasn't alone. I lowered my binoculars and caught Bruno staring at me in earnest interest while his little pink tongue was hanging out of his mouth, drooling all over the scratched wood of the desk.

Not the most erotic sight. I pulled my hand out of my panties. With Bruno watching me like that, I wouldn't reach any heights tonight.

Frustrated, I returned my focus to the woman who
would have
an orgasm tonight and probably several more of them. She was all sweaty and moaning. My gaze focused on Adrian with his eyes closed and his lips parted in pleasure. Even his teeth looked perfect. What an
overachiever.

Sadly, Bruno's loud panting spoiled the pleasure of watching Adrian. Angry
at myself, at Bruno and the world in general, I threw the binoculars to the ground and stalked over to my bed where I plopped down.

Life was a bitch.

The entire week had proven that. Not only had Chris called my mobile countless times but every single agent that I'd sent my book to had rejected my work. It was frustrating and disheartening, to say the least.

***

The next day my mood hit rock bottom and even breakfast with Amy couldn't make me feel better. I hadn’t written a word all day. Instead I’d spent hours looking for a way to sell my short stories and crying over two rejections. Already late for work, I stood in front of the apartment building, wallowing in self-pity and trying to ignore Bruno who was pooping on the lawn. I pulled a plastic bag from the pocket in my coat and bent down to pick up Bruno's poop. I gagged a little when I caught a glimpse of it and was about to straighten up when I heard steps.

My head whirled around and there he was, walking out of the house. He was wearing dark jeans and a white shirt, and looked like sex on legs. He looked like he'd walked out of a fashion magazine. He was probably on his way into a fancy club to
find a new woman for the night.

I stared down at myself, clad in an old coat – which covered my skimpy waitress outfit –, and holding the bag with my dog's poop in my hand.

Fan-
Fucking
-tastic.

Of course, the first time I met him was when I was picking up Bruno's poop. I should have foreseen that. Could my life get any worse? Maybe. He seemed very busy with his mobile, so there was a small chance that he hadn't noticed me yet. I unbuttoned my coat to show him what lay beneath and to distract him from the little baggy in my hand.