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Authors: Airicka Phoenix

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #love, #Comedy, #Sex, #Passion, #Contemporary, #Bdsm, #New Adult, #airicka phoenix

The Voyeur Next Door (22 page)

BOOK: The Voyeur Next Door
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She slid her fingers into the pool, coating them and dragging them from hole to clit in slow, even strokes. Her moans were little pants in my ear and I knew them well enough to distinguish just how close she was.

I wasn’t ready to come, not that I couldn’t if I put my mind to it. But I wasn’t the kind that needed to go every time his woman did. There were times I was perfectly content just watching her. This was one of those times.

I palmed my cock through my sweats and enjoyed the sight on screen. On the phone, Aoife whimpered. Her hips thrashed against her pumping fingers. The clear fluid that had coated her opening moments ago thickened and trickled over her knuckles and dripped onto the sheets.

“You’re so wet,” I groaned. “Are you coming, baby?”

Two fingers sunk deep inside her and came out coated in sleek, white cream that was rubbed over her clit before delving back inside her pussy.

She made a sound between a sob and a gasp.
“Yes!”

I didn’t have to hear her low, guttural wail to know when she came. I could see the tightening of her ring around her fingers and the rapid pulsing that followed as her pussy milked at the object giving it pleasure. I could only imagine having them grip me as I slammed deep inside her, making her ride out that orgasm until the very last shudder. I wanted to feel her rushing hot and wet around me. Truthfully, I wanted to do things to that pussy that would forever ruin it for anyone else but me. The bone deep desire shocked even me.

“Keep rubbing your clit,” I told her when her fingers slipped free, leaving her opening winking at me through the screen.

Her slick fingers rolled over her clit and she gave a violent tremor. Her choked gasp filled my ears. Her slit clenched and I gritted my jaw as the hunger rampaged through me. I wanted like hell to slide up behind her and fuck her until she couldn’t sit for a week.

I told her so and watched with dark fascination as she climaxed again.

“Just tell me when,”
she panted into the phone mid third orgasm.
“She’s yours.”
She emphasized by circling the tight ring of her opening with one finger. Then using two to pry it apart in invitation.
“I want your cock stretching me.”

Christ.

I came in my sweats.

I could have sworn the days just kept getting hotter and hotter. I found myself roasting alive the next day as the crew worked on installing the framework. Even with the shade, the hood of my Jeep burned beneath me. I was sure my ass was getting one hell of a tan.

Most of the upstairs had been done. Both sets of stairs had been converted into a wooden ramp that had to be adjusted and aligned to properly fit the angle. The only thing left was the wall of windows I wanted put in to overlooking the shop below. That had been a last minute decision brought on solely by images of Ali sitting up there in that concrete prison for ten hours every day. Also, a part of me that I refused to acknowledge in my decision making process, liked the idea of seeing her whenever I glanced up.

“Back again?”

The teasing taunt had me glancing over my shoulder and watching as the object of my constant fascination walked towards me, tote bag in tow. She wore a dress in soft purple that hung off her shoulders and fell in a wave of fabric around her legs. There was a straw hat on her head, concealing part of her face, but I knew, even before she tipped back her head who was underneath.

“So are you,” I noted, enjoying the sight of Ali walking towards me.

She sighed dramatically and rolled a bare shoulder. “What can I say, I have a bleeding heart.” She stopped two feet away, both hands clasped around the tote bag dangling nearly to the ground. “I feel bad about letting you stay out here alone.”

I leaned back on the hood and propped my weight up with my hands, ignoring the hot metal stinging my palms.

“I’m not alone. I have six very interesting men just inside.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

I couldn’t help it, I chuckled. “Definitely not like that. What?” I said when I caught her studying me with a peculiar look on her face.

“Nothing. I was just thinking how laughing looks good on you.” She shifted. “You should do it more.”

“Laugh?”

She nodded. “Not that scowling doesn’t do wonders for your complexion, but…” She shrugged. “Anyway, I brought lunch.”

She drew out a Styrofoam takeout container and held it out to me along with a plastic fork.

I hesitated. “You don’t have to keep bringing me food, Ali.”

“I know, but I also know you won’t get yourself lunch, so…” She wiggled the container at me. “As your secretary, it’s my duty to make sure you eat.”

I took the offered meal, surprised to find it still warm.

“I didn’t realize that was in the contract.”

She withdrew two bottles of water, but only held out one. I took it.

“It’s written in invisible ink.”

I chuckled. “Like the squirrel?”

Ali grinned. “Something like that.” She set the second bottle down next to my hip. “For later.”

I studied her as she drew back and closed the tote bag.

“Didn’t get yourself anything?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “No, I don’t like parmesan penne with extra parmesan.”

I would have chuckled, except my mind was overcrowded with other thoughts, like how well she knew me and how I knew next to nothing about her. That bothered me, not because she paid so much better attention, but because I didn’t pay enough of it.

“I guess I should—”

“Stay,” I blurted before she could take a single step away from me. I raised my head and peered at her. “I’d like the company.”

She fidgeted uneasily with her purse strap. Her gaze went to the open shop window and the men hammering away inside. Then darted back to me.

“Are you sure? I know I’m not your favorite person.”

It took all my restraint not to do something irreparably stupid like gather her up in my arms and tell her … hell, I didn’t know what, but something that would get me into a whole mess of trouble.

“I’m sure,” I said instead.

She hesitated a moment longer before edging around to stand on my other side.

I patted the empty spot next to me on the hood. “Hop on.”

“Oh … um…”

She eyed the fender, then the hood, clearly uncertain about how to go about getting on without touching the scalding metal. I chuckled inwardly as I set my food aside and hopped down.

“Hold on.”

Leaving her watching after me, I moved quickly to the back of my jeep and unearthed a moth eaten blanket. I dusted it off the best I could before moving back to her and laying it out on the hood.

“There.”

I took her by the waist without thinking, intending to lift her up. Her hands jumped to my shoulders for balance, maybe from surprise. Her head jerked up and I was caught by how close she suddenly was. Her heat radiated through the thin material of her dress to burn my palms. Her sweet scent was a physical force rushing over me and I felt myself drowning in it. It took everything in me not to push her back into the front grill of my Jeep and take that damn mouth of hers the way I’d been fantasizing about for weeks.

Instead, I lifted her up and settled her down gently on the hood. I released my hold on her immediately and stepped back, already berating myself for being such a pig. There I was, thinking about all the ways I wanted to ravage Ali when I had Aoife satisfying me almost nightly. It made me a unique brand of sick.

“Thank you,” Ali murmured as I hoisted myself up next to her.

I inclined my head, but kept busy peeling back the cover on my penne.

The rich, tangy scent of tomato sauce, melted cheese and pasta impregnated the air. It filled my mouth with saliva and made my stomach whimper. But being the gentleman Earl raised me to be, I offered my fork to Ali first.

“Want a bite?”

She shook her head a little too quickly. “No, thank you.” She moistened her lips and I looked away. “How did Tamara like her costume?”

I shrugged as I speared penne onto my fork. “We’re not exactly talking right now,” I said and shoved pasta into my mouth.

“Everything okay?”

I nodded, stalling while I chewed. “Just teenage drama. She’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure.” She agreed. “So I did some recon today.” She cleared her throat. “While I was out, I talked to some of the other business around here if they wouldn’t mind doing a trade of advertisement. We would put up their flyers and point our customers to them, and they’ll do the same for us. I figured it might help since we’ll be closed for a week.”

I turned my head towards her. “You did that?”

She nodded. “Ben Carter from up the street, he runs an art gallery that caters mostly to rustic, urban sculptures made of car parts and just stuff most people think are junk. He offered to put Madoc Auto Body Repair as his supplier if you shoot him a few spare parts here and there. I’m especially proud of that one, because he’s a big deal in the art community and artsy people have cars so … win!” She dug out a little notepad from inside her purse and flipped it open. “There were a few others. I got their numbers. I thought we could contact them once we were operational again. Do you have any flyers made up?”

I shook my head mutely.

“Okay, I’ll look into getting some made.” She scribbled it down. “I was also thinking about getting one of those corner street signs made up. Ben said he’d put it in his showroom if we wanted. Also—”

“Who are you?”

Ali ceased speaking. Her head came up, her eyes wide behind the glasses she had to nudge back into place with a knuckle.

“What?”

I closed the lid on my lunch and set it aside to really focus on the woman next to me.

“Who are you? Where did you come from? Why are you here?”

She shut her notepad.

“Are you interviewing me?” It was said teasingly, but there was an uncertainty in the question.

“Yeah,” I decided. “I am. You’ve been here, what? Four weeks?”

“Three,” she corrected.

“Whatever. And no one knows a damn thing about you.”

The pink tip of her tongue poked nervously at her bottom lips as she busied her hands stuffing her notepad back inside her purse.

“Maybe because there really isn’t anything worth telling.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She opened her mouth when Jeff stalked out of the garage door and made a beeline towards us. His gaze darted to Ali before settling on me.

“Don’t mean to interrupt, but I got some measurement questions I’d like to go over with you.”

I didn’t want to leave. I finally had Ali where I wanted her. But she was already sliding off the hood and I knew the moment was over.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered, barely looking at me.

“Ali…”

But with a wave, she was gone.

Chapter Eleven

 

Ali

 

I considered not meeting Gabriel for lunch the next day. His questions were becoming too insistent and, while I understood the reason behind them, I hated being unable to answer. The truth of the matter was that I had no idea who I was. I did and I didn’t. I spent so much time watching other people, judging who they were, that I never gave myself a moment of thought. Plus, what I did know about myself were things I couldn’t just share with him. They were things no one would understand, except Q. But he was a rare find and I was sure that if we ever met face to face, I would never be so willingly open with him either. My natural born introvert would never allow it.

Nevertheless, I found myself strolling down Pine towards the shop with a club sandwich on rye. Usually, the sandwich was bought from Top Lick Sandwiches, but I refused to pay ten bucks for a sandwich I could make at home. If Gabriel didn’t like it, that was just too damn bad.

The day wasn’t nearly as hot as it had been the last month. The temperature had dropped drastically due to the canopy of darkness looming overhead, threatening rain. But the humidity remained, frizzing my hair and making my skin clammy beneath my jeans and long sleeved top.

It wasn’t one of the newer outfits I’d dared myself into buying during an insane moment of weakness where I blamed Q for making me feel sexy enough to pull off. But they were comfortable. Plus the new clothes were a gradual process. I was still working up the courage to wearing some of them. The few that I had been brave enough to don were moderately more like what I would normally wear, minus the leg baring and a few yards less fabric. The others, I would really need to talk myself into. Maybe with booze.

True to my assumptions, Gabriel sat on the hood of his jeep, one booted heel propped on the fender and his eyes squinting in the direction of the garage doors. He wore his habitual jeans, white t-shirt, and flannel. His hair was combed back and only slightly tousled by the wind. There was a fine layer of stubble along his jaw that only made his rugged features all the more dangerous. I would be lying if I said it didn’t make my knees weak.

“Hello again,” I said and watched as he turned his head and focused those silver eyes on me.

“Hello.” His gaze dropped to the tote bag dangling from my fingers. “Sandwich?”

I grinned and held the bag out to him. “Homemade.”

He took the bag, but didn’t open it. His eyes were on me again, watching, dissecting. I looked away.

“How’s the construction coming?”

“Slow.” He answered, setting the bag aside on the hood and hopping down. “Come here.”

Something in the way he said it, the authoritative finality, propelled me forward without question. The two steps brought me inches from him and his hands.

They closed around my waist. Mine went straight to his shoulders. As it had the day before, my mind wondered what would happen if I slid my hand around to cup the back of his neck, if I drew his head down, if I went up on my toes and met his lips. But like the day before, I shoved the idea aside, knowing full well he would be appalled and the tenuous bridge we had forged the last few days, would crumble into the rapids below.

He hoisted me up effortlessly onto the hood and left me there as he rounded the car to yank open the driver’s side door. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to start driving with me just sitting there like some hood ornament. But he returned with a plastic cup in one hand and a box in the other. I recognized both.

“How did you know my weakness?” I teased as the items were shoved into my hands.

He heaved himself up next to me and took the box.

“You’re not the only one who pays attention,” he said, flipping back the lid and showing me an array of donuts. “I mean, you were willing to marry a guy for one.”

I laughed, long and hard, because it was the sweetest and strangest thing anyone had ever done for me. Plus, I remembered all too well my comment to him about marrying Carl if he bought me a donut.

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mr. Madoc?” I asked. “Because I don’t see a Boston cream puff in there and I’d have to decline.”

He hissed through his teeth and eyed the assortment. “Good to know. I guess I’ll have to toss these then.”

I snatched the box from him before he could follow through on such a crazy notion and shot him a glare.

“That is just uncalled for,” I said, barely suppressing my grin. But I broke into another fit of chuckles before forcing myself to sober and hold up the drink. “And the Frappuccino with whipped cream and chocolate syrup? How did you know about this one?”

He rubbed at his jaw with his fingertips and squinted at the iced drink. “I recall you threatening for one while demanding a raise your first day.”

I chuckled. “Remember that, huh? Thank you.”

“Does that mean you’ll share the donuts?”

I snorted, setting my Frappuccino down on the hood between us. “Not after you threatened to toss them.” To prove it, I took out a chocolate glazed one and held it to my mouth. “You’ll have to get your own.”

One of the crew men ambled over then, a large man with a head full of curly black hair and skin the color of dark coffee beans. He held a tape measure in one hand and a hammer in the other. He stalked over to where Gabriel sat and stopped.

“Jeff is measuring the doorframe and wants to know if you agree with the numbers.”

Gabriel sighed. He hopped down to join the man on the pavement.

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound happy about it.

The man spotted me and my happy box of donuts. He whistled under his breath.

“Easy there, girl. Shouldn’t you be watching your figure, or something? You should let me and the boys finish that for you.”

I knew he was only teasing. Anyone would have said the same thing if they’d seen a girl with a whole box of donuts in her lap. But the question hit too close to home for me. My self-esteem took a nosedive all the way to my ankles and splattered across the concrete. All desire to eat said donut evaporated in a cloud of sugary dust that made my stomach churn. Mortification burned a hot path up my back, over the column of my throat, and filled my face with fire. The sensation prickled behind my eyes in the form of tears that I couldn’t squelch. I quickly set the donut back inside the box and closed the lid. I dusted my hands on my jeans and started to slide down.

“I just remembered I have an appointment I have to get to,” I choked out, staring hard at the ground and willing the tears to stay in check until I was far away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I made it three feet before I was captured. Gabriel’s hand formed an indestructible shackle around my elbow, forcing me to stop.

“Don’t,” he warned quietly.

“I have—”

He didn’t let me finish. His fingers tightened around my arm and I was dragged forcibly backwards until my spine ran the length of his chest.

“Don’t move,” he hissed into my ear, and I didn’t.

I stayed perfectly in place as he moved away. I watched him follow the man back into the garage without a backwards glance to see if I would comply. His confidence in his own abilities would have irritated me, if I wasn’t so busy trying to get myself back under control.

I wasn’t normally so sensitive. It had taken me years to build that wall of outer indifference when it came to my weight and normally, I wouldn’t have been caught dead eating where people could see me. But it wasn’t even that he had made such a stupid joke. It was the fact that Gabriel had been sitting right there, listening that stung. While he wasn’t blind, I didn’t want my flaws brought to his attention. I didn’t want him to see what I saw every time I looked in the mirror. What made it worse was the fact that I was just beginning to build a modicum of confidence in how I looked, which was now stained with shame.

What the hell had I been thinking? Of course I couldn’t pull off those new clothes, not now when all Gabriel would see was how disgusting my body was.

I wanted to die.

Raised voices had my attention pulling away from my own misery to focus on the two men arguing by the bay doors. The man who had made the seeming harmless joke was storming out of the shop, yelling at the top of his lungs about something being bullshit. The crew manager was left standing in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the other man stalk away with a look of annoyance. Behind him stood Gabriel, looking fierce and royally pissed off.

“What happened?” I wondered to myself, as the man jumped into a beat up truck and peeled out of his parking spot like his tailgate was on fire.

The crew manager turned to Gabriel. The two shared words I couldn’t hear, but it looked like the man was apologizing and Gabriel was just shaking his head. Curiosity propelled me forward.

“He won’t be returning,” the crew manager was telling Gabriel when I joined the group. “Bill’s a great guy. He just forgets sometimes to watch his mouth.”

It took me a moment to realize what was happening. It took me a bit longer to formulate words. My gaze shot to Gabriel.

“Did you get him fired?” I exclaimed, horrified.

“He’s lucky that’s all I did,” Gabriel answered tightly.

“But he didn’t mean anything by it.” I protested, guilt ridden. I turned to the crew manager. “Please don’t fire him.”

“He’s not fired,” the man assured me. “I sent him to a different project. Like I said, I know my men. Bill’s a good worker, but he sometimes lets his mouth run off with him. My wife doesn’t like him around either so I can understand where your husband is coming from.”

“Oh, he’s not … we’re not…”

Crew Manger put his hands up, like he didn’t want to know what type of relationship Gabriel and I had. He turned his attention towards Gabriel.

“About those measurements?”

Gabriel nodded and motioned the other man to lead the way.

“Gabriel,” I called after him before he could follow the man.

Maybe it was the sound of me saying his name for the very first time, or maybe it was the hand I closed around his, but he stopped. His head turned in my direction and he stared down at me with surprise lifting his eyebrows. I released him, slightly embarrassed for having grabbed him in the first place. It took some effort not to rub my now tingling hand.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.

The surprise dissolved into exasperation. “I don’t care how funny he thinks he is, he needs to learn to watch his mouth. You’re mine, Ali, and I…” He seemed to freeze at his own passionate declaration the same time I did. Our gazes clashed as the air around us crackled sharply. “I meant part of my team,” he corrected. “You’re part of my team and that makes you one of mine and I don’t like people upsetting those who work for me.”

I tried not to let disappointment tighten in my gut. Of course that was what he’d meant.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He inclined his head without meeting my eyes. He started to turn away and I was going to let him, fully prepared to make my own escape the minute he turned his back when the phone in his pocket buzzed. I watched as he dug it out and frowned at the screen before shoving it to his ear.

“Mom?” He was quiet while he listened to whatever was being said. The high pitched chatter on the other end pierced through loudly, but not loud enough for me to make sense of it. Yet the longer Gabriel listened, the darker his expression became. “What? When? No. No, I’ll be right there. No, don’t do anything. I’m on my way.”

“What’s wrong?” I demanded the second he’d hung up.

“Tammy’s taken off.”

“What?”

Rather than answer me, he sprinted to the garage doors and pulled the crew manager aside. The two spoke quickly with a lot of hand gesturing from Gabriel. Finally, he jogged back to me, digging into his pocket.

“I need you to make sure they leave and lock the shop up after them. Can you do that?”

I nodded, taking the keys he shoved into my hand. “Yes, but is everything okay?”

His answer was a shake of his head and a frustrated exhale.

I watched as he hurried away from me to his jeep. The items on the hood were gathered up and shoved into the backseat. My untouched Frappuccino was tossed into a nearby wastebasket. Then he was gone.

The construction crew vacated the premises a full fifteen minutes later, which to me, felt like hours. But only because my mind was still on Tamara and Gabriel. I couldn’t stop wondering if everything was okay if the girl was okay and what had Gabriel meant she had taken off? Taken off where? As someone who had often wished she could just pack up and runaway, I knew all too well the desire to escape something that felt ultimately out of your control, but if Tamara was hurt, I couldn’t just do nothing, not just because of Gabriel, but Earl.

Setting the alarm and locking the garage up tight, I ran home. All the while, I contemplated what I was doing. The fact of the matter was that it wasn’t my business. If Tamara had run away from home, Gabriel and his family would sort it out. I was merely an employee, as Gabriel had stated. Part of me also wasn’t so sure how grateful he would be if I just showed up offering my help. It would be mortifying if he turned me away.

Yet, that didn’t stop me from climbing into my car and following Earl’s directions to Gabriel’s mom’s place.

BOOK: The Voyeur Next Door
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