Watching Mine
Page 4
Before I’m ready, Dean severs the connection by turning me around by my hips. A rush of coolness settles over my sweaty skin, as if it were the stranger who was heating my body. I want to growl at the loss.
Dean’s looking down at me, and the desirous look that turned me on before now has my stomach rolling. It’s not that the look turns me off, it’s that I fear he will no longer measure up to the man sitting behind me.
“I really don’t want to come off as a creeper here, but damn, woman, you are sexy as hell when you dance.”
I laugh, trying to bring myself back to the here and now with Dean. It’s wrong of me to be thinking of one man while in the company of another.
I don’t know if he realizes just how far I went while we were dancing, but I get the sense he doesn’t. For that, I’m grateful.
“Thanks.”
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink after that,” he says.
I nod, and he leads me off the dance floor toward the bar. I turn my head and look toward the chair mystery man was sitting in, but it’s empty. Looking around, I try to find him in the thick crowd. Again, no luck. Disappointment settles in, and suddenly I just want to go home.
Dean orders me a water and a drink for himself, and we take both back to the table where Jessika and Marcus still are. Apparently, they’ve sucked face long enough to come up for air. When Jessika sees Dean and me walking up, her brows rise in question. I hate that I’m getting ready to disappoint her.
“I’m going to head out,” I tell them.
“What?” she asks in surprise. “Why? We just got here an hour ago.”
I rub my forehead, feigning a headache. “I’m just tired and feel a headache coming on.” I look at Dean and offer him a half smile. “Sorry to ditch you so soon.”
He tries to hide it, but I can still see the disappointment. I kind of did lead him on back there on the dance floor, even if he doesn’t know the sexy dance wasn’t really for him. Guilt worms its way in, but I squash it down.
“No worries.” I have to give it to him, the smile he gives me looks genuine. “But I insist on walking you to your car.”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to do that.”
He leans closer. “I’d prefer to make sure you made it safely to your car.”
Well, when he puts it like that, how can I say no? He’s trying to be a gentleman.
“Okay. Thank you.”
I walk over to Jessika. She gets up, and I give her a hug. When I try to pull away, she holds me in place. “Is everything okay?” she asks against my ear.
She releases me when I pull back again. Her eyes assess me, looking for anything that’s off. I lean in and kiss her cheek to reassure her.
“Everything’s fine. I promise. I’m just tired.”
She looks at me for several more seconds, before nodding. “Okay. I hate that you’re leaving early though. I finally get you out and you leave before you can really enjoy yourself.”
“I know. But we’ll do this again soon.”
Her eyes roll. She knows that “soon” is probably six months from now.
I laugh, then say goodbye to Marcus, before turning to Dean. He puts a hand on my lower back as we walk across the busy club. I can’t help but look around again for my mystery man, but never see him.
The night air is cold when we step outside. It’s refreshing after being in the stuffy air of the club. I pull in a deep lungful of air, then release it.
“I didn’t make you uncomfortable back there, did I?” Dean asks, filling the silence as we make our way to my car.
I look over at him. “No. It wasn’t you.” Obviously I can’t tell him the truth, so I stick with the same story as before. “It’s been a long day, and I’m just tired.”
He seems to accept my excuse, because he nods.
I stop us and dig my keys out of the small purse I’m carrying. “This is me.” I beep the locks and the lights flash. He pulls open the door, and I climb inside.
“I really am sorry,” I tell him. I drop my purse in the passenger side, then look at him. “And I’m sorry about earlier. I’m sure you probably thought….” I trail off, hoping he knows what I’m trying to say.
He bends slightly, and I see his face better in the interior light.
“Don’t worry about it, Emberleigh. And I never expect that from a woman.”
I smile, grateful he understands.
He clears his throat, suddenly looking nervous. “Would you like to have dinner sometime?”
I fidget with the hem of my dress while I think over his invite. On one hand, he seems like a really nice guy. He’s hot, has a good job, and is obviously a gentleman. But on the other, I don’t really have time to have a man in my life. Between my job, going to college part-time, and going back and forth between my place and my parents’, I never have time to relax and have fun.
I should tell him no. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, but after performing on that dance floor for mystery man, I realized how much I miss being wanted. I miss the touch of a man. I miss the comfort being in a man’s arms can offer.
Making a decision I’m not entirely sure I’ll follow through on, I lift my eyes to Dean. “I would love to.”
His smile causes dimples to form in his cheeks, adding to his good looks.
“Great,” he says. He pulls his phone from him pocket. “What’s your number so I can call you sometime.” I recite my number, and seconds later, my phone dings. “That’s me. In case you want to call.”
He taps the top of my car and backs up a step. “Be safe driving home. I’ll call you in a few days.”
I nod and give him a small wave. Closing my door, I start the engine as he makes his way back to the club. I check both ways to make sure no one is coming. My breath freezes in my lungs when I look at the vehicles across from mine. There, sitting in a big black truck parked underneath one of the parking lot lights, is mystery man. His window is down with his arm hanging out, his fingers holding a cigarette. He brings it to his lips, inhales, and blows out a puff of smoke.
His eyes are pinned on me as he takes one more drag and flicks the cigarette away. His lips tip up into a smirk and he eases his truck forward. My eyes stay on him as he slowly drives away. It’s not until he’s out of sight that I’m able to pull in a breath.
ChapterFive
Nathan
I OPEN THE DOOR TO MY apartment and head straight to my kitchen. Dropping the keys on the counter, I grab a water out of the fridge. The bottle crinkles in my hand as I down half of it. It doesn’t do shit to cool the raging fire in my blood. I finish my water, then toss the empty bottle in the trash.
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.
It’s not long before she comes out of the bathroom. Her head is down, so she doesn’t see me at first. She drops something in her purse and looks up. Her eyes meet mine and she stops, her lips parting prettily in surprise. Her hands fall slowly to her sides. I hold my place by the wall, and she stays just outside the bathroom door. As we stand there and stare at each other, her breathing speeds up.
Blue. Her eyes are the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen.
When her tongue darts out to lick her lips, I can’t hold back any longer. My strides are long as I stalk toward her. For every step I take, she takes one backward, until her back hits the wall.
“Jasmine,” I whisper, then open my eyes. She’s watching me, the pupils in her eyes dilated. “What’s your name?”
She licks her lips again. “E-Emberleigh.” Her voice sounds delicate.
“Emberleigh,” I repeat. It’s so fucking perfect. She sets my blood on fire.
I lean forward and run my nose along hers, then whisper it softly over her cheek until I reach her ear.
“Did you like showing off for me last night?” I whispered.
Her breath hitches and a tiny moan leaves her lips, tempting my cock.
“Yes,” she breathes.
I settle my lips just below her ear, and her head tips to the side. I feel her hands at my waist, gripping my shirt.
“Do you usually enjoy getting off in front of strangers?” I ask, nipping at the skin where her neck meets her shoulder.
“I-I’ve never done th-that before,” she answers breathlessly.
She has, she just doesn’t know it.
“Did you come, Emberleigh?” I move my hand from above her head and bring it to her ass. Slowly, I run it down the back of her thigh, then lift her leg and wrap it around my waist. Her heel digs into the back of my leg as I grind my cock against her pussy. “Did you soak your fingers while you watched me watching you?”
I lift my head to find hers leaning back against the wall. Her eyes are half-closed and her cheeks are flushed.
“Yes,” she moans.
“What if I said I wanted an encore?”
She bites her lip and her brows pull down. Her fingers at my sides tighten against the material. I wait as she thinks over my offer, hoping like hell she accepts.
“I’d say I must be crazy for saying yes,” she finally replies.
I smirk, then release her leg. Grabbing her hand, I pull her behind me as I walk to the closed storage closet door. I flick on the light and close the door behind her, flipping the lock in place.