by S. Nelson
She was naked. No panties. Completely bare.
She flitted about her room with no concern that I could possibly be watching her. I did catch her looking into the camera every so often, so I questioned whether she was doing this on purpose or not. But why after all this time would she taunt me? How would she know I’d even watch? How would she know it wouldn’t be Owen checking the cameras before turning in?
The thought of my brother seeing Cara naked instantly irked me, but I tamped down my odd reaction before it got the best of me.
I shouldn’t care, but I did.
I should look away.
I should leave the room and go to bed.
She’ll never know, so what’s the harm?
But I’d know, and I wasn’t some kind of creeper. At least, I’d never been before.
Cara moved about the room, disappearing into her closet only to reappear moments later. She opened and closed each of her dresser drawers but never pulled anything out. Then she turned on her bedside light and turned off the overhead. I could still clearly see her as she crawled on top of her bed then laid on her back, her robe still wide open.
I wanted to look away. I berated myself for not walking away ten minutes ago, but I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch her, curious to see what she was going to do, and why the hell she kept looking over at the camera.
If I removed all the interactions I’d had with Cara, take away all the times she’d been rude toward me, baited me, yelled at me… take all of that out of the equation, I was left with a beautiful woman whom I was very much attracted to. I could never act on it, however, even if I wanted to, which I didn’t because I didn’t like her. I worried about her well-being and was concerned she was living her life recklessly with no regard for anyone but herself, but that was as far as it went.
All the rooms were equipped with audio. Normally, we turned the sound off, unless there were guests in the house. We had to be aware of any and all conversations. And after what Cara pulled the other day, I made sure to leave the audio on in her room when she talked with Naomi. I had to know if she was planning any future escapes. Thankfully, she wasn’t. Not any she voiced out loud, at least.
My ears had pricked when they mentioned my name, of course, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. She admitted to her friend that I was nice to look at. I knew she found me attractive, but that was most likely where it ended for her—as it did for me where she was concerned. Then she mentioned something about not being able to masturbate as often as she used to because of the cameras.
As if on cue to drive me crazy from the recollection of their conversation, Cara rooted through her nightstand. Then it happened. She pulled something out and laid it on the bed. Before I could zoom in on what it was, I heard a faint buzzing sound. Immediately, I knew exactly what she had next to her.
Before I could convince myself to stop watching, realizing I’d taken it too far as it was, she widened her legs and placed her vibrator over her pussy. Her back arched a little at first contact, and I cursed myself because I knew I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, look away. A soft moan fell from her lips, so soft I would’ve missed it had I not been paying such close attention.
Since I’d been ready for bed, the only thing I wore was my boxer briefs. A thin piece of fabric separating my dick from my hand, and at the rate Cara was going, it wouldn’t be long before I grabbed myself and started stroking. But that would be wrong, so I dueled with the need to join her in self-pleasure and to keep my hands off myself. For the time being, the latter won.
I was mesmerized by the way she teased herself with the toy, gliding it over her clit, then down to her entrance where she inserted the tip before pulling it out and dragging it back up to her clit. As she repeated the movement, her moans increased and her body twitched a little more each time.
My cock thickened, straining to burst free, but I refrained. Barely. Heavy breaths racked my body while I continued to keep my restraint intact, but the more seconds that ticked by, the harder it was becoming. Every fucking pun intended.
“Ford.” I looked around my room, but when I heard it again, I knew who’d said it. Cara. She was moaning my name. At first, it was faint, but it got louder the more her body rocked against her toy. Was she playing with me? Fucking with me? Was this some sort of game for her? Hoping I’d be watching? If so, what was her plan? What did she think she’d gain from her brazenness?
Or was this for real? Was she really thinking about me as she fucked herself? The latter thought was more enticing, but also more dangerous.
From the rhythm of her body, it appeared she was close to coming. I gripped the arms of my chair so damn tightly I swore I was going to leave an imprint of my fingers.
With Cara’s right hand busy with the vibrator, her left one trailed up and over her belly until she reached her tits. She squeezed one after the other, pinching her nipples as she drew closer to orgasm. Her pelvis thrust upward, harsh and abrupt every few seconds. Faster and faster.
So many movements, all leading up to her explosion. I grabbed my dick and struggled with pulling myself free and joining her. But I couldn’t. It just didn’t feel right. Not that watching her entire display was the right thing to do, but to add in my own pleasure was going too far.
I heard her call my name again, followed by, “I’m gonna come.” One last thrust. One last circling of her clit. One last deep penetration of the vibrator and her body seized up, her thighs clamping together. She must’ve been holding her breath because a whoosh of air rushed from her mouth, followed by a satisfied groan.
After she’d composed herself, she rose from the bed and disappeared inside her bathroom. She was only gone for a couple of minutes, but the entire time I wondered what she was doing in there. When she reentered, her robe was closed. She walked toward her dresser and pulled out a tank top and some pajama shorts, changing there in the middle of the room. But I supposed it didn’t matter since I’d already seen all of her in the most intimate way.
Pushing away from the screens, I decided to finally call it a night, although I doubted I’d be getting any sleep. Every move she’d made replayed in my head, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her little show. A half hour later, no closer to passing out, I hopped in the shower and prayed the cool water would tamper my raging hard-on. But it didn’t work so I was left to my own devices. With my head resting against the cool tiles, I stroked myself to the image of Cara fucking herself. It didn’t take long before I came, the remnants of my guilt at being her voyeur washing away with the water.
* * *
Cara
I woke up with a spark of excitement. Today was one day closer to our birthday trip to California. I could hardly wait, despite a certain someone essentially being glued to my side, even while in another state.
Naomi was almost as eager as me, but I wasn’t so sure my sister felt the same. There had been a rift between us since the day I discovered she’d sided with my parents. But because I didn’t want anything to spoil our impending birthday celebration, I decided to seek her out and have a little chat. See where her head was at and all that jazz.
I didn’t have to look far. She was laying out by the pool, reclining in one of the loungers with her nose in a book. We were different in so many ways, her obsession with books one such example. I was all for a hot, steamy romance novel, as was Emily, but she broadened her reading horizons with all sorts of genres. Mystery. Paranormal. True Crime. History. Biographies of some people whom I considered the most boring of subjects. Her last read was on Eleanor Roosevelt. But to each their own, right?
Changing into my swimsuit, I joined my sister on the patio. Owen wasn’t present, but I was sure he was somewhere nearby, as was his brother.
Images of Ford bombarded me as I sat next to Emily, and the last thing I wanted to think about right then was him. Or what I’d done last night. I wondered if he’d watched, and if so, what had he been thinking. Or to be more blunt, what had he been doing? There was no g
uarantee he’d seen me at all, but then the opposite could also be true.
“Hi,” I greeted, tapping the top of her book to get her attention. She’d been so enthralled she hadn’t noticed me sit down. She rested her book on her chest and smiled.
“Hi.”
We looked at each other for a moment, neither of us quite sure what to say. I wanted to pepper her with questions, to demand answers about why she’d chosen their side instead of mine, but I knew better. Whenever I came at Emily like that, she shut down and didn’t say much. She’d let me rant until I tired of the one-sided conversation, and leave. And because I never felt I was wrong, I refused to apologize. Eventually, we’d move on. But I wanted to have a real conversation this time.
“I wanted to ask you about what went down. With Mom and Dad?”
“What about it?” Her blasé tone annoyed me, but I didn’t want to get too heated too quickly. So I let it slide.
“Why didn’t you give me a heads-up? You let them blindside me.”
“I just found out an hour before they showed up at the house.” Her fingers played with the edges of her book, her dislike for any type of confrontation showing.
“It was an hour more than I had,” I shot back, making sure to keep my rising temper at bay. I wanted to talk to her, and if I started acting like my usual self, I knew I wouldn’t get far.
Emily turned on her side to fully face me. “What do you want to know, Cara? Why I agreed with Mom and Dad for not letting you see Kurt anymore? Because the only answer I can give you is that he’s an ass and is no good for you. Besides that, he’s a bad influence.”
“A bad influence? What are we, twelve?” My sarcasm did nothing to deter her from continuing, her to-the-point approach surprising me.
“You can make fun all you want, but you know damn well what I’m talking about. I understand that you want to have fun. You’re still young, not married, and don’t have kids. I get it. But at some point, you have to grow up and make a plan for your life. A goal of some sort. Partying, trying any kind of drug out there just to prove you’re cool or something is just stupid.”
“I don’t try every kind of drug,” I corrected, scrambling to come up with any kind of defense. But I fell short.
“I’m sorry. I’m not siding with you on this. Although, Dad restricting us from dating altogether is a bit extreme. That I’ll give you. But it’s not like we can do anything about it. Besides, it won’t last forever.” She turned on her back and opened her book, but before she started reading again, she looked over at me. “I love you.” She allowed several seconds to pass. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself, that’s all.”
“I wish everyone would stop fucking worrying about me. I know what I’m doing. I’m. Fine,” I emphasized. I didn’t know what else to say. I hid behind my words, my false bravado, but the reality was I was upset and disappointed, and I wasn’t convinced all my emotions should be directed toward my sister or the rest of my family, for that matter. Some of it should be pointed at myself, but I didn’t want to deal with figuring out why, so instead, I got up from the lounger and started to walk away.
“I’m going to be out here for a bit if you wanna jump in.” It was her attempt at smoothing over the uneasiness between us. I appreciated it and accepted.
“You’re not coming in?”
“I did already.” She must have gone in a bit ago because her suit was dry. “I wanna finish my book.” A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf.
“Interesting read?” I asked, placing my right foot into the water to test the temperature. Perfect.
“Very.” She smiled wide before pulling the book back up in front of her.
For the next ten minutes, I swam continuous laps before hopping on one of the floaties, relaxing and soaking up the heat from the sun. I untied my bikini top and let the material shield my nipples. I also lowered my bottoms as much as possible while still being covered. Although, there wasn’t much to lower because my bathing suit was already skimpy. But if I could avoid tan lines as much as possible, I tried to.
With my eyes closed, I attempted to focus on something fun and exciting rather than all the other shit floating around inside my head. My trip. But my enthusiasm was short-lived when I heard his voice.
Ford.
Something about his presence put me on alert, the tension in my muscles returning with vigor. None of our encounters had been pleasant, and there was no hope in sight for one to happen anytime soon.
“Cara.” My name sounded like acid on this tongue. Or was my assumption ill placed?
“What?” My tone held no pleasantry, praying he’d get the hint that he was interrupting my relaxation time. I chose to keep my eyes closed, and if he considered it rude, I couldn’t care less.
“Are you almost finished?”
“With what?”
“The pool.”
“Why?”
A brief silence ensued before he said, “I want to get some exercise in and wanted to use it.”
He wanted to use the pool? I wasn’t sure why that came as a shock to me, seeing as how he’d used it numerous times before, but it was weird that he was asking me about it.
Then it dawned on me that he was most likely half dressed, and when that image barreled in, my eyes popped open. And sure enough, he stood by the edge of the deep end, staring down at me as I floated by. A pair of knee-length board shorts was all he wore. I’d seen him shirtless before, but nothing like this. The way the sunlight bled all over him made him look exquisite. He was cut in all the right places—toned and muscular, but not too much. Just enough to make any woman drool. His skin was kissed by the sun, and I couldn’t keep from wondering if he had any tan lines to speak of. The waistband of his shorts hid part of a scar on his lower right side and I wondered what the story was behind it, and why I hadn’t noticed it when I walked in on him in his room. That was before I remembered I’d been enthralled with seeing his eyes for the first time.
“You don’t need me to get out for you to use it. It’s big enough for the both of us.” The implication that I wanted him in the pool with me wasn’t what I wanted, but I wasn’t going to cut my time short because he wanted to get in some exercise. “It’s huge.” Our pool wasn’t Olympic size, but it was bigger than the normal in-ground.
I watched for his reaction, but he gave me nothing. Not a raise of his brow or a shake of his head. I did, however, hear him mumbling something before he dove in, and I’d be lying if I said my eyes weren’t glued to him the entire time he swam to the shallow end, then back toward me. He was quick. Powerful. I attempted to ignore him, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. And the one time I glanced over at Emily, she smiled and wiggled her brows. I wanted to smile right along with her, but I didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, the impression that I liked him in any way.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate how hot he was. Mix in a sudden need to goad him, and I decided to ask him something I’d been wondering since I opened my eyes this morning.
I allowed him the time he needed to do his laps. Thirty minutes of him swimming back and forth, never seeming to tire. Thirty minutes of me sneaking peeks at him when he wasn’t looking, watching the way he glided through the water like it was his second home, the way his muscles twitched with each stroke. Thirty minutes of my body becoming heated, and it had nothing at all to do with the sun beating down on me.
Ford slowed during his last two laps, resting on the ledge of the pool after he finished. He dunked his head under the water and pushed his hair back when he surfaced. He then placed his arms on the concrete and pulled himself up and out of the pool. The corded muscles of his back moved in unison, and I hated to take my eyes off him. And as he walked by me, toweling himself off, I asked my question.
“Ford.”
He ran the towel over his hair, parts of it sticking up and making him look sexier. “Yeah?”
“I was wondering something.” My tone was pleasant, enough to make him take
a step closer so he could hear me.
“What’s that?”
“You watch anything good last night?” I studied him, waiting to see if he’d inadvertently let me know he’d seen my little show. And there it was. The slightest widening of his eyes. It was so quick I would’ve missed it had I not been staring at him.
But his response was even quicker. “Not particularly. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Touché.
“Are you looking for a good movie to watch?” Emily interrupted, unaware of what was going on. “Because I saw a great documentary on—”
“Oh my God, Emily. Any documentary is not my idea of a good time.”
“Your loss,” she responded, seemingly content to get back to her book.
Instead of bantering with my sister, I watched Ford walk toward the guest house, the confidence in his gait eliciting an ache deep within that confused the hell out of me.
* * *
Ford
The water washed over me as I rested my head against the tile, much like I’d done less than twenty-four hours ago. Only this time my dick wasn’t clenched in my hand. Although, if I kept thinking about Cara’s question, her way of letting me know she’d known what she was doing, hoping I was watching, I might have stroked myself.
Who did she think she was playing with? I wasn’t some schmuck who’d fall all over myself or her, for that matter, dying to get her attention. She chose to put on that little show. I just happened to be going over the cameras at that exact time. Then stayed to watch the entire fucking thing.
Lost to my thoughts, I never heard my brother enter the bathroom. “Hey,” he shouted, pulling back part of the shower curtain.
“What the fuck? Get the hell out of here.” Christ! He scared the shit out of me.
