The Voyeur Next Door

by Airicka Phoenix

  With that, she stalked off and I watched her, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

  Ali stayed locked in the office for the remainder of the day. It got to the point where I almost forgot she was there until I had walked up to the apartment and started in surprise to find her sitting cross legged on the concrete floor with a carpet of papers around her. She never acknowledged my presence. Maybe because she was too pissed, or maybe because she was so lost in her own organizing mind that she didn’t notice, but whatever the reason was, I was grateful for it if the venomous direction of her mumbling was anything to go by. Part of me was hoping all that anger was aimed at Earl for bringing her into that mess. If anything, she should be thanking me. I did try to save her.

  At one, the crew and I closed shop for lunch and trumped through the office towards the apartment. Ali never glanced up, nor did she make any effort to join us. She was still there when we went back to work an hour later.

  I paused on my way out and peered down at her, debating my chances of living if I disturbed her. I opted to risk it.

  “You should go for lunch,” I hedged cautiously.

  “Not hungry.” She never even looked my way.

  I let it go. She was a grown woman and if she wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t going to force her. Besides, I was more preoccupied by the fact that I had exactly six hours before I needed to get home and shower. My excitement could barely be contained. I hadn’t felt like that in ages and it only delighted me all the more. I had no idea how I was going to survive the rest of that day.

  Promptly at six, Ali grabbed her purse and hurried down the steps at an almost run.

  “Leaving!” was all I got before she disappeared out the doors.

  I peeked at my watch and cursed; there was still another ten minutes of work before I could leave. That left me just enough time to get home and do a quick scrub before she called me.

  She needed a name, I realized. I made a mental note of it, along with all the other things we needed to discuss before we went any further. That was what I had hoped our initial conversation would accomplish. I had wanted to lay down the ground works, to set it straight that, under no circumstances, would this turn into a relationship. That I didn’t want a relationship. That the only thing we would do is pleasure each other. I might have made that clear at some point the night before, but from the moment she had picked up and her soft, nervous little voice had filled my ear, all I could think about how much I wanted her. Then I’d heard it, the slight catch in her voice, the silky ribbon of desire that had woven through every word and protocol had evaded me. It was ludicrous. I knew nothing about her. But I literally thrummed throughout my entire body at the mere thought of her, at the anticipation of hearing her again.

  But tonight couldn’t be like that. I couldn’t let myself get distracted by her breathy sighs and husky whimpers. If all went to plan, I would be hearing it a lot … often. I just needed to remember why it had to be that way. The game was always fun, but it could also turn destructive. I knew that first hand. I had seen how quick those tides could shift. Was it risky pulling in a girl who lived a hop away? Yes. But that too was the beauty. Everything about this was a fine line, only this time, I was determined to remain in control.

  I made it home with twenty minutes to spare. I stripped quickly and rushed into the shower. I scrambled out ten minutes later and yanked on a pair of gray running sweats that hadn’t seen a day of running in its life and a white t-shirt. I rubbed hurried hands through my hair, spraying droplets of water in all directions and walked to the terrace doors.

  I habitually kept my blind shut, not because I disliked the thought of people spying in, but because I just didn’t like the excess light. I was content in darkness. Now I kept them closed for another reason.

  My fingers itched to pry the folds apart and see if I couldn’t steal one peek of her. I wondered if she was home, if she was anxiously pacing her bedroom, waiting for seven o’clock. I was dying to see. But I wouldn’t. The game didn’t work if I didn’t follow my own rules. Plus as much as I wanted my privacy, I had to respect hers as well. There were boundaries. Rules. You always had to follow the rules when another person’s physical, emotional, or mental wellbeing was at stake.

  Behind me, the phone sprung to life.

  It was exactly seven.

  I had to respect that. People who didn’t abide to the minor things like being on time irritated me. I disliked the implication it brought forth, like my time was somehow less valuable than theirs. The fact that she was exactly on time made me all the more certain that this … that she was the right choice.

  I picked up on the fifth ring.

  “Hello.”

  There was that second of silence before she answered, “Hello.”

  I wanted to ask how her day was, but that wasn’t what we agreed on. So I stuck to the basics.

  “Did you come?”

  “No!” And I could hear the frustration in her response. “Did you?”

  I walked over to the sofa, shoved aside a few bags and discarded newspapers and dropped down on it.

  “I told you I wouldn’t.” I palmed the rigid length of my cock. “But we’ll get to that soon enough. I want to make sure we clear everything up before we go any further.”

  “Okay.”

  Her eagerness only deepened my grin, while at the same time, I wondered if she knew exactly what she was agreeing to and that gave me a moment of pause.

  While the idea of what we were doing was thrilling, it wasn’t something I took lightly and that was something I would really need to stress to her. She needed to really understand what I was asking. That too would be a slow process. Trust took time and patience to build, more of both considering this wouldn’t be done in person.

  I decided to start somewhere simple.

  “You need a name.”

  “I thought you said no names,” she pointed out.

  I let my amusement color my reply. “I still need a name to call you, something just between us, something that belongs only to me.” I wasn’t ignorant to her sharp inhale. I continued in a quieter tone. “It will be a name you give only to me.”

  “What kind of a name?” she wondered.

  “Whatever you like,” I said. “It can be anything, but it should be something that represents you. A name is a symbol of power, of identity.”

  She didn’t speak. I assumed she was thinking. I let her while I let my own mind wander to what I would bring up next. Rushing into a long winded explanation topped with rules and demands could send her in the opposite direction.

  “Can I think about it?” she asked at last. “I want it to be perfect.”

  “Yes, that’s fine.”

  “What’s your name?”

  I should have been prepared for the question. I should have known she would ask. But I had no answer. There was a time I had a name, one that I was proud of, that spoke of me and who I was. I wasn’t that person anymore. I had left that name behind. I had left that world behind.

  “Q,” I murmured, hating the tightness it brought to my chest. “Just Q.”

  It had been too long since I’d worn those shoes. Why on earth was I digging them out of hiding now? For this girl? And the answer was simple: because I missed it. I missed women. I missed holding a hot, aroused body as I made them beg for release. I missed it all, just like Regina had said I would. I hated myself for that. But it was who I was. I needed this.

  I needed her.

  “Q,” she whispered at last. “Does that stand for something?”

  “Yes,” was all I was willing to give her, and it did.

  Gabriel Quintus Madoc was my full, legal name. Only my mom, dad, and grandfather knew. I was fairly sure not even Tammy was privy to my middle name, only because I knew she would never let me live it down.

  “How old are you?” she asked, seemingly out of the blue.

  “Thirty-five.”

  She took her sweet time processing
that and responding.

  “I’m twenty-three.”

  Her age didn’t bother me. She was legal, had the voice of a sex kitten and wanted to play, I was fine with the rest.

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Your age?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “No. So, will this just be about sex?”

  “Yes. If you’re not comfortable,” I continued when her hesitance worked through the plastic and wires of the phone. “Things don’t need to go any further than this. We will resume our everyday lives and no hard feelings all around.”

  Her silence was longer this time, thicker and I waited patiently for her.

  “I need to think about it,” she said at last. “I want to make sure this will be something I can commit to without reservations.”

  I admired her for that. I liked that she considered everything before heedlessly lunging into a decision. It only solidified my resolve that she was the one I wanted.

  “Call me Monday,” I told her. “Seven o’clock with your answer.”

  I expected her to hang up, instead, she asked, “What about coming?”

  Despite everything, I burst out laughing. The sound reverberated from my gut like a storm and exploded from my throat in a long, and rumbling roar. I would have been stunned by the unfamiliar sound if I could bring myself to stop. On the other end, I heard her timid giggles and it only made me laugh harder.

  “Monday,” I promised her, forcing myself to sober down.

  “Really?” she huffed. “Is this a ploy to get me to pick what you want?”

  “No, this is my way of making sure we don’t do anything you’ll regret later,” I replied. “There is no hurry and if this is what you want, then it won’t matter. But when I allow you to come for the first time, it will be because you have chosen to be mine.”

  “Well,” she breathed. “You certainly know how to get a girl all excited.”

  I chuckled. “I try.”

  She hung up after a soft goodbye. I set the phone done on the sofa next to me and peered down at the tent pole holding up the front of my sweats.

  “Sorry, pal. Not tonight.”

  I started to heave my horny, exhausted body off the sofa when the phone shrilled against my hip. For a startled second, I hoped it was her calling back to say she accepted. But from what I had gathered about my neighbor, she was consistent and thorough. She would wait until Monday. Which meant it could only be five other people.

  Tamara’s excited chirp filled my ear even before I could speak.

  “Guess what?”

  I dropped back against the leather and settled in. I knew just from the volume of my sister’s excited voice that this would be an at least two hour conversation.

  “What?”

  “I got the lead role in the school musical,” she declared proudly and with more than a touch of arrogance. “I will be Odette in a modern and riveting retelling of Swan Lake.” She ended her dramatic roll with a deep and profound sigh. “I wowed the judges and stole the spotlight right out from under that little bitch’s fake nose.”

  “Tammy!” I scolded without any heat.

  “Her nose is totally fake,” she replied without missing a beat. “She can pretend it’s not, but it so is. I have pictures from kindergarten and trust me, so fake.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I meant the bitch comment.”

  “Why? Everyone says it.”

  “Are you everyone?”

  “What does that even mean?”

  I was so glad she couldn’t see my grin. “Congratulations on getting the part.”

  “I know! Awesome, right? Mr. Bowide says I have the grace and beauty of the silver screen, the old kind. You know? The black and white stuff from back in the dinosaur era.”

  “I know,” I assured her.

  “Anyway, so, you’re happy for me, right?”

  Years of being her brother and recognizing that tone automatically prickled my apprehension.

  “Possibly…” I said cautiously. “What do you want?”

  “Well, see, here’s the thing,” she began, her words coming out quick. “The cast and crew have to elect a family member to help with building the stage and making the props and stuff and soooo…” She dragged her o on forever before continuing. “I volunteered you.” she said it in such a manner that she almost had me convinced she had done me a favor. “Isn’t that awesome? You don’t have to thank me. Just be at the school by eight on Saturday.”

  “Whoa, hold on there!” I cut in before she could disconnect and trap me with this bomb she’d dropped into my lap. “What the hell did you sign me up for?”

  “It’s only for the one day!” She exhaled sharply. “If you don’t help, I can’t be in the play.”

  I glowered at the curtains across the room. “You couldn’t just ask like a normal person?”

  “Would you have said yes like a normal person?” she countered smartly.

  The odds of that were slim to none so I could see her point. But I didn’t like it.

  “What about Jonas?”

  “Are you kidding? Can you imagine Dad with a hammer? He probably couldn’t even lift the thing.”

  This was also true. My stepfather was as thin as a pole with arms that reminded me of tree branches in the winter. His face went purple trying to open a jar of pickles. Asking him to do any sort of manual labor was just a joke.

  I relented. “What am I supposed to do?”

  Her smug little grin was all over her voice when she answered. “Just help set up the stage. It’s really easy.” She paused, then added, “You wouldn’t happen to know how to sew, would you?”

  My eyebrows lifted up into my hairline. “Sew?”

  “Yeah, like costumes and stuff.”

  “No!” I blurted in indignation. “I’m a mechanic, not a … a…” What the hell were they called?

  “A seamstress?”

  “Don’t they teach you how to sew over there?”

  “If you can’t sew, just say so,” she retorted curtly. “I’ll ask Mom.”

  “Mom can’t sew either and you know it.”

  Tammy paused as she thought about this. “I don’t know then. Maybe I’ll buy something. How will the school know? Unless they find out and I get kicked out of the play and expelled from school…”

  I shook my head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  That must have been exactly what she was waiting for. Her elated screech nearly deafened me.

  “I love you! You’re the best brother in the whole world!”

  My grin was unstoppable even when I fought to suppress it. “And you are the most spoiled and conniving little sister in the world.”

  “I know!” she sing-songed. “It’s what makes me so awesome. Okay, I gotta go. Mom thinks I’m doing homework and reflecting on my bad choices.”

  “Oh yeah? What did you do this time?”

  She huffed. “Why would you think I did something?”

  “Because you’re you.”

  “True.” She sighed. “She caught me smoking.”

  My grin was gone. “Jesus, Tam…”

  “I know, I know. Smoking is bad for me, blah, blah, blah. It was only the one. I was stressed.”

  “About?”

  “Just school crap.” She exhaled deeply. “Math’s kicking my ass and I fucking hate science, and English, and algebra and—”

  “I get it,” I interjected. “You hate all your classes.”

  “Not all. I love drama and music, oh, and lunch. The rest can just go to hell.”

  “Look, if you need help—”

  “No, I’m okay. Thanks though. You really are an awesome brother, Gabe. Anyway, I gotta go. See you Saturday.”

  She hung up before I could say anything else.

  I dumped the phone down on the sofa and climbed to my feet. My lower back gave a twang and I rubbed absently at the spot as I shuffled my way into the sparsely stocked kitchen. I kicked aside a box and yanked open the fridge. A sickly, white light spilled over
empty racks and I grunted.

  “Pizza it is.”

  Chapter Five

  Ali

  His hands were painfully hot gliding down the curve of my waist to leave a trail of fire down to my hip. Moist lips, danced over the curve of my neck and moved inward in the direction of my collarbone. Blunt, playful teeth nipped at my pulse, took a detour to nibble at my jaw line before resuming its downward trail to the hollow of my throat.

  I burned. I could feel my skin reaching temperatures too high to be safe. My heart was a wild¸ desperate mess in my chest and I knew he could feel it the moment that mouth closed around my breast.

  “Don’t stop…” I pleaded, threading my fingers into thick, silky hair the color of ebony and holding that mouth to me.

  My back arched and a hard, toned arm slid beneath me, lifting me higher to the scraping teeth and circling tongue. A corded thigh pushed between mine, spreading me to lean hips and a searching cock.

  A hiss whispered from my lips and I bowed beneath him. My head dipped back against the pillow and I waited to feel him fill me. The head of his cock slipped between my lips, mixing our juices as he nudged against my opening.

  “Please…”

  I was coming before he even broke through the ring. The sudden explosion skittered up the length of my frame in a fluid, flawless slice that incapacitated everything else.

  I came awake with my fingers pumping inside my pulsating sex. Hot, thick cream spilled down the crack of my ass to stain the sheets. My low tortured whine sang through the room as I milked the last shudder from my pussy by assaulting my clit with wet, sticky fingers.

  Spent and exhausted, and feeling exquisitely sated, I slumped against the damp pillows and stared at the patches of shadow stretching across the ceiling. My breathless pants echoed around me and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  Well, that had been unexpected, or maybe not as unexpected as it should have been. I hadn’t had a man in four years and Q had opened things for me in the short few minutes we’d spoken that I never thought myself capable of. But I could honestly say that I had never orgasmed in my sleep. That was new, even for me. I didn’t know whether to give myself a high five, or take up smoking. However, I did know one thing; I had to tell Q.