Voyeur Extraordinaire Read online

  Voyeur Extraordinaire

  by Cora Reilly

  Copyright ©2014 Cora Reilly

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, events and places are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Cover designed by Romantic Book Affairs Designs

  Subscribe to Cora’s newsletter to find out about her next books, bonus content and giveaways! ( http://corareillyauthor.blogspot.de/p/newsletter.html )

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  I’d never considered myself a voyeur, but that changed one night when I came home late from waiting tables in a shabby bar where ass touching was considered a valid sport, and spotted my new neighbor banging a red-head across from my bedroom window. If I’d known what would follow after, I’d have never picked up those damn binoculars. Or maybe that’s just what I’d like to tell myself.

  ***

  I could still feel the imprint of his hand on my butt. It had burned itself into my skin – just like his sweat had left a stain on my skirt. I hated the way the guys in Jack’s bar thought that because I delivered their drinks to them in a ridiculously tight and short skirt (requested by my boss a.k.a. Asshat Jack), I gave them permission to clap my ass like I was a donkey they wanted to get moving faster. But I shouldn’t complain – I needed that job and those ass claps were more action than I’d gotten in a while and, if you didn’t count the few awkward make-out sessions with creepy-Chris, probably all my life.

  I squinted into the darkness. The light in the hallway on my floor wasn’t working – again. I’d complained to our landlord Mr. Olsen at least a dozen times and just that often he’d promised to fix the problem. Maybe he’d finally fix the problem if I broke my legs tumbling down a flight of stairs. That might actually solve my financial problems. I felt my way forward, my heels catching on the uneven carpet. Who in their right mind put carpeting into a corridor of an apartment building?

  No light came from under the doors of the neighbor apartments. It was past midnight and most of them were probably long asleep.

  When I reached the door to my apartment, it took me a few minutes to fumble the key into the lock and open the door. Bruno yapped sharply and jumped against me, his paws scratching over my legs. I guessed that meant I could kiss my tights good-bye. At least they’d been only 99 cents. But with my budget even that added up to a dangerous amount of money if your overweight dog managed to get runs into a new pair every fucking night.

  I pushed him into the apartment, closed the door and turned the light on. The stupid bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered a few times before it started working properly. Amy threw a fit every time she saw it. I should really take her up on her offer to go lamp shopping with me. For a moment, I stood in the middle of my one-room apartment with its tacky kitchenette and bathroom where I got water on the toilet and every inch of the floor every time I took a shower. Despair and frustration kindled in my stomach but I squashed them immediately. It wasn’t pretty or big but at least I had a roof over my head and didn’t have to live with my parents anymore.

  Bruno gave a high yowl, his claws digging another hole into my tights. I patted his head as I stepped out of my 4-inch heels. After a nine-hour shift running around in them, it felt like my feet were on fire. Luckily, Amy was looking after Bruno for a few hours every day while I was at work and brought him back into my apartment around 11pm every night.

  I glanced at the stack of paper on my tiny desk squeezed between my grandmother’s wardrobe and my bed. Would someone ever want my writing or was being a waitress really the end of the road?

  Three years ago, after high school, I'd moved to New York in the hopes of finding inspiration for my writing and maybe – hopefully – an agent or a publisher for my books.

  ‘That had worked out just perfectly, hasn’t it?’ A nasty voice whispered in my head.

  My parents weren't happy that I hadn’t started college and was now living on my own in the big city. If they'd had a say in the matter, I would still be living with them, attending community college, boring myself to death or alternately trying to escape Chris's advances. Freaky Chris had been my prom date and still tried to contact me occasionally. He was too insistent and oblivious to my rejections – just like the stupid ass customers in Jack’s bar.

  I walked over to my desk, which was pressed against the white wall below the window, and grabbed the curtains to close them. I glared at the brick building in front of me that towered over its surroundings and obstructed my view of the park that I knew lay behind it. It was a new investment project with luxury apartments. I’d heard rumors that they were planning on removing our apartment building to build even more of those luxury apartments. It wasn’t that I loved living in this dank room so much, but it was cheaper than most apartments, so if Mr. Olsen ever decided to sell I’d probably end up on the street.

  I allowed myself a peek at the panorama windows of the other building. They’d been rented out or sold only recently and I didn’t know a single person who lived there. Not that those people would want anything to do with a waitress. Most of the windows were dark or the curtains were drawn, only a single window, one floor below, was illuminated. It was a bedroom – which was held in light colors. Beige and white. A painting of red and black and blue squares hung over the massive bed. I’d never understood modern art. Why would people pay millions of dollars for something a kindergarten kid could draw?

  I let out a frustrated sigh. Had my life gotten so pathetic that I was analyzing other people's bedrooms?

  Yes.

  Definitely, yes.

  I let out another sigh, more resigned this time. Bruno wagged his stumpy tail and let out a yelp while he was busy tripping over my feet. His little pug face seemed to be smiling up at me. He was only ten months old and I'd bought him because I'd promised my dad that I'd have a guard dog if I lived alone. I had to bite back a snort. Dad hadn't been too pleased when he'd found out that I'd chosen a pug. I guess he'd imagined a German Shepard or a Great Dane or something like that. Maybe he should spend more time in my tiny apartment, then he’d realize how ridiculous his suggestion had been.

  I tore my gaze from Bruno and was about to close the curtains when something in the illuminated window caught my attention. My eyes widened and a strange small gurgling noise escaped my throat.

  Stumbling back, I almost ripped the curtains off but managed to pull them shut in a jerk as I tried to catch my breath. I drew in some desperately needed gulps of oxygen and tried to calm my racing heart.

  A naked man.

  There had been a naked man in the window.

  My mind tried to wrap around the fact and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking while they were still clutching at the curtains. I wasn't sure why I hadn't let go of them yet but my body seemed unable to move. Slowly, and a bit guiltily, I l
eaned forward and peered through the gap between the curtains.

  My eyes found the window; the light was on, and there he was.

  The man stood in the middle of his room, in plain sight. Didn’t he know that everyone who peered at his window could see him? Maybe he enjoyed being watched. But now that I took a closer look, I noticed that only his chest was naked and he was still wearing beige pants. The sigh of relief – or maybe disappointment, I wasn't entirely sure – got stuck in my throat when a beautiful woman with long red hair came into view. She was naked.

  I almost choked on my tongue when she knelt down in front of the man and pulled his pants down. Now I almost wished that the stupid brick building were closer to my apartment; then at least I'd have a better look. I bit down on my lower lip, feeling ashamed for that thought, but at the same time I couldn’t stop thinking about a solution for my problem.

  A grin tugging at my lips, I turned around and hurried toward my wardrobe. I fell down on my knees and pulled out one of the moving boxes I used for storing old stuff. I threw away the lid and started rummaging in the box, ignoring the photos of me flashing my braces in stupid smiles and not caring if I spread my belongings all over the floor. At the bottom I finally found what I’d been looking for.

  I grabbed the binoculars with a sweaty hand and jumped to my feet. My toes caught on a bump in the floor and I had to grab the wardrobe to steady myself. Whoa. I’d end up breaking my neck if I kept it up. Pathetic.

  I hastily switched off the light, covering the room in blackness, before I positioned myself behind the curtains, hidden in the darkness of the room. With shaky hands, my pulse pounding in my veins, I brought the binoculars to my eyes and peered through them. After a moment, I found the illuminated window. My focus was on the upper part of the man, and I was mesmerized.

  His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back in obvious pleasure. His hair was the most fascinating shade of blond, almost golden, and he was simply beautiful. I usually didn't use that word for men, but it was all I could think of when I looked at his face. His lips parted slightly and, though I couldn't hear it, I imagined he'd moaned. Slowly, my gaze traveled lower over his muscled chest, his taut stomach, the fine line of hair that led to his...

  …cock. Oh my.

  My face heated and I had to steady myself with a hand on the window frame.

  His boxers had joined the pants on the ground by now and his erection stood on alert. The red-haired woman wrapped her fingers around his shaft and started pumping up and down slowly.

  My mouth went dry when she parted her lips and began sucking him, her eyes watching him the entire time. She seemed so in control – as if she had no problem taking what she wanted. Heat pooled in my lower belly and I rubbed my thighs against each other to alleviate the sweet tension that was building in me.

  I couldn't stop watching as the redhead sensually worked her mouth up and down, her fingers tracing every inch of his body. I wondered how his skin felt under her fingertips, how he tasted. Was he burning up the way I did? I allowed myself to close my eyes, imagining how it would feel to be the woman in that moment.

  I shuddered and my lashes fluttered open.

  The man placed his hands on the woman’s head and tangled them in her red curls, pushing her mouth up and down harder and faster. He was looking down at her, watching how she worked him and another silent moan escaped his lips.

  On its own accord the hand that wasn't holding the binoculars traveled over my breasts, my hard nipples, and down my belly. Slowly, hesitantly, I pushed my hand into my sweatpants. I cupped myself over my panties and moaned softly. It had been a while since I’d pleasured myself. Most of the time I was too tired. As I watched the redhead sucking the man, a heat I’d never felt before spread through my body.

  I'd never seen a porn movie or read a Playgirl, and seeing something like this with my own eyes was incredible.

  I pushed the crotch of my panties aside and ran a gentle finger over myself. I'd never felt like this before. Sometimes I’d wondered if something was wrong with me, if maybe I was frigid just like Chris’s had said after I’d pushed his hand off my breasts. I started moving my fingers in rhythm with the man’s thrusts. My breath left my body in tiny gasps, electricity coursing through every inch of me. My hand with the binoculars shook but I couldn't take my eyes from the scene in the other room.

  The man tensed and threw his head back, his fingers tightening in the woman’s red curls. My finger moved faster and faster as I watched him ride out his orgasm and then my own body started to shake. I gasped and moaned while I clung to the window frame.

  Slowly, I came down from my high and caught my breath, feeling slightly guilty and embarrassed. I removed my hand from my panties and let it drop to my side, suddenly feeling cold. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to forget what I’d seen, to banish the embarrassment. I shouldn’t have watched them. It was wrong. But those feelings of shame vaporized when I directed my eyes back to the illuminated window.

  The woman knelt down on the bed on all fours and gave the gorgeous man a coy look over her shoulder, her ass wriggling teasingly. He smirked as he came up to her from behind, rubbing his growing erection. I thought it took longer than that. Maybe the guy was some superstar porn actor. He grabbed her hips and with a swift move pushed into her.

  My hand returned to my still sensitive folds and this time I pushed a finger into my wetness, mimicking the movements of the man. Or rather I was trying to mimic his movements. His pace was so fast and powerful that only watching him pounding into the redhead made me dizzy. His firm backside tensed with every push and one of his arms snaked around the woman's waist and his hand cupped her sex.

  My finger was pumping into me faster and I felt my legs shake violently. The woman threw her head back for a cry of pleasure that I couldn't hear, and I let out my own cry when the second orgasm shot through my body.

  My legs gave away and I sank to my knees, panting. Next time I’d have to sit on my desk to watch him. Next time?

  I'd pleasured myself countless times before but it had never felt this good. Not even close. ‘Just imagine how much better it would have been if your neighbor had actually done all those things to you,’ a small voice teased.

  I groaned and closed my eyes as the binoculars dropped to the ground. Bruno stood on his hind legs and licked over my face, pulling me out of my after-orgasm-haze. I grimaced as I patted his soft head. I blew a strand of my brown hair out of my left eye.

  Great. Just great. I was patting my dog while the redhead was probably snuggling up to the gorgeous blond-haired man. She didn't need to pleasure herself. How I wished I were her.

  Instead I was watching them having sex like some Peeping Tom. Or maybe Peeping Tina. Was there even a female equivalent?

  Embarrassment washed over me. I stumbled to my feet and jerked the curtains closed, angry and frustrated with myself, and the misery that was my life. This would be the first and last time that I’d been a voyeur, I swore to myself. I stored the binoculars in my top drawer and walked into my bathroom for a cold shower, determined to forget about my neighbor. My gorgeous, sexy, muscled, blond-haired...

  Shut up! I screamed in my head and for once my mind listened.

  Chapter Two

  I woke with a start and the fading image of a blond man. I pressed my face into my pillow, releasing a long breath. I'd been dreaming of him all night, and I didn't even know him. This was getting ridiculous.

  Angry with myself, I peeled the blankets off my sweaty body; the dream must have been really hot. I remembered only snippets of it: kissing the blond man, running my hands over his chest, lying beneath him as he pushed into me. I groaned. My skin tingled and my body yearned for another release, but I ignored the heat between my legs.

  This was getting too pathetic for words. My gaze wandered over to my window, still covered by curtains. Light peeked through them. For a moment, I wanted to risk peek. Was the blond man already awake? Would he be standing in front of th
e window with gorgeous bed hair?

  I needed an intervention.

  I jumped out of my bed; anger at myself seemed to energize me more than a cup of coffee ever had. I needed a shower - again. Though, I'd only had one last night. All because of a fucking hot dream. I wondered if my gorgeous neighbor would agree to pay my water bills, since it was his fault that I had to take showers so often. Once again I wished this wasn’t just a one-room apartment. I’d have given anything for a door to slam – and maybe kick. That had always given me so much satisfaction in the past – and much to my mother’s chagrin. I stomped into my bathroom. Though bathroom was a pretty big word for what I had. More like bath-closet. Bruno hadn't bothered getting up. He was sprawled out on his back at the foot of my bed, snoring softly, pink tongue peeking out. He wasn’t supposed to be in my bed, but sometimes when I felt particularly lonely it felt good to have hit warm body snuggled against my legs.

  I wedged myself into the gap between the sink and the toilet – the center of my bathcloset and thrust the folding door shut. I didn’t give a satisfactory bam. Instead a tear ripped across the middle of the cardboard where mold had eaten the lamination away.

  Fucking great. I propped my hip up against the sink, despite its groan of protest. That would be the icing on the cake if that stupid thing came off the wall. I glared at the rip in the folding door. I couldn’t afford a new one. I guessed tape would have to do for now. I dropped my clothes on the green PVC floor and stepped into the small shower cubicle. Big word there again. It was pretty much just a drain sandwiched between two tiled walls. The shower curtain had gone the way of all flesh a couple of weeks ago. I turned the shower on and pressed against the cold wall when a few drops of scalding water dripped from the shower head. The pipes creaked and then a burst of cold water poured down on me. I gasped as my skin erupted in goose bumps. Two people wouldn't fit into this shower cubicle. Not that I had anybody I wanted to share a shower with. Though, I wouldn't mind sharing it with Blond Guy. That would probably be my next hot dream…