Voyeur
Page 3
“Stay,” I told her, my gaze slow in drifting back to Carter and Crystal. I was never one to stray from watching, but I found with Zoey standing beside me, I wanted to do just that. It was most definitely new.
With a nod from me, Carter positioned himself behind Crystal. She said nothing, but she did let out a low moan when Carter filled that sweet pussy in one thrust. The busty blonde was bent over the couch, getting fucked from behind.
I ran my nails across the pad of my thumb, feeling my cock swelling against my pants. I could never describe how much I enjoyed watching others fuck; I just did. Watching, telling the participants what to do and how to take it… I got a certain titillation from it, a rush of pleasure in every part of my body—though of course, mainly in my dick and the ball sack under it.
As I lifted my gaze away from the two bodies near the couch, I was unsure what I’d find in the girl beside me, whether she’d be watching the fuck fest across from us or staring at me.
Me. The girl stared at me through long, dark lashes.
I had the sudden urge to tell Carter to pull himself out of Crystal and bend Zoey over, but I refrained from doing so. There was something about Zoey that was so… different. She was different than these other women, I could tell just by this quick meeting. The emotion she held in her light azure stare was not the emotion that should reside there; if anyone else had stumbled upon this on their first night working, I think they’d back right up and pretend to have never seen it.
Zoey didn’t. Zoey wanted me to know she saw.
Holding her gaze for a few moments, I was begrudged in returning it to Carter. He worked her hard, rough, a wild animal when it came to fucking; he knew no other way. Being gentle was never part of the package that was Carter.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Zoey would like it rough. Based on first impressions, I’d say she would. I wanted to lean over to her, run my fingers down that smooth, flat stomach of hers, dip them so low against her skin that I’d feel the slickness of her slit. Would she be wet already? Did she get off watching others have sex like I did?
Or, maybe she wished she was in Crystal’s place, being used and discarded.
The girl was a new entity, something I had to be careful with. The glint in those eyes, she reminded me of a stray cat; you never knew if it wanted to be loved or fed, or if it would bite you if you got too close to it.
Carter’s muscular body had Crystal by the hips, his fingers digging into her skin hard. He fucked her until he came, and he all but roared out his pleasure. An animal indeed, a hunter, a lion claiming his lamb.
Was Zoey a lamb, or was she a lion in disguise? I guess we would find out, because if I had my way, I’d be seeing her again.
Pulling out of her, Carter grabbed his pants and stuffed himself away, leaving Crystal bent over the couch, her dripping cunt visible to everyone in the room. Crystal knew what was good for her; she didn’t move. She remained exposed, breathing unevenly. Carter, on the other hand, strode to my side, eyeing Zoey up.
Though his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, he looked like he could kill. “What should I do with her?”
Zoey’s back straightened, and she locked eyes with him. I sat there for a few moments, watching their quiet pissing contest. Who was the bigger person? Carter, definitely, in more ways than one, but Zoey did have some backbone in her.
That could be fun.
Though I knew it would be the last thing Carter would want to do, I said, “Take Crystal and leave. I want to talk to Zoey alone.” Carter moved to Crystal’s side, picking up her skimpy clothes off the floor and shoving them at her. “Oh, and Crystal?”
Those big baby blues, so unlike Zoey’s, met mine, questioning.
“Grab us some drinks, will you?”
As soon as she was dressed, she and Carter left the room. The door closed, leaving me with Zoey. I motioned to the couch, and Zoey made no moves to go to it. She, clearly, did not understand that the things I told her to do were orders and not suggestions.
“Sit,” I spat out, frowning. Zoey would learn that I could be either a king or an executioner. Sometimes, I was both on the same day. Whichever one she got would depend on how she acted, and right now she was obstinate.
Something must’ve registered, for Zoey held back a sigh, going to sit down on the couch across from me. “Nothing like sitting on your sex couch,” she said, staring right at me, begging me to say something smart back.
I forced a smirk, knowing suddenly this girl and I were going to have a lot of fun together. If she believed tonight would be the only night I’d grace her life, she was wrong. So very, very wrong.
“To be fair, the Dollhouse owns the couch,” I said.
She shifted her weight, crossing her legs like mine, mimicking how I sat. Zoey said nothing, even when Carter entered, carrying a tray with two drinks on it. He handed me the first one, and the second to her, leaving shortly after.
“That’s Carter,” I said, taking a sip of the drink. Fruity drinks weren’t my favorite, but I would make do. “He does anything I tell him to.”
“Including the workers here, I see,” she deadpanned, setting down the glass on the floor near her heeled feet.
I narrowed my eyes. “Drink.”
“I’m not twenty-one yet.”
If that wasn’t a challenge, I didn’t know what was. Not yet twenty-one and working at a place like this. Why? Was she so down on her luck that she had nowhere else to turn, no family to help pick herself back up?
“I won’t tell,” I whispered, hardly blinking as I stared at her. She and I were alone in this room, no windows, no cameras. The things I could do to her here were unspeakable, and I’d be a liar if I said my cock wilted at the thought.
Silence took over the room, and I did nothing but continue to sip my drink while Zoey acted unimpressed.
She broke the silence, saying, “Can I ask you something?”
I shrugged my shoulders, figuring she would regardless of what I said.
“Who are you?”
The corner of my lip quirked. Who was I? Such a complicated question with an even more complicated answer, one I knew many women here wondered, especially when I paid so well. The truth, boiled down to the bare bones of it, was this: “I’m the man a lot of people call when they want someone out of the picture.”
Finally, that got a reaction from her. “An assassin?”
I had to hand it to her; she got me to chuckle. The word assassin was so… political. I much preferred the term enforcer, if any term had to be used at all. Hell, I’d even take the label of hitman over assassin.
“In a way, yes,” I relented, figuring it would be easier to let her believe that. It wasn’t like I went around killing everyone who anyone wanted dead; only people who went against my family and their business. I used the term family loosely, of course, because my closest blood relatives were deader than doornails.
“So you kill people?” Zoey somehow felt the need to clarify.
“I do.” I finished up the drink, gripping the empty glass as I set it on the armrest. I ran a single finger around its rim, staring steadily at her, wondering what she was thinking. She certainly wasn’t reacting normally at all, which led me to wonder just how damaged this girl was.
“Huh,” she said, as if I’d just told her that I was an accountant and not a murderer.
Huh indeed.
I leaned forward, noting the way her spine snapped straight with my movement. So I made her uncomfortable; good. At least the girl had some brains tucked away in that pink head of hers. “Let me ask you a question,” I said, my voice low. “Who are you?”
She breathed in deeply, her chest rising and falling once. “I told you. I’m Zoey.”
“Yes,” I admit, “but why are you here, Zoey? What brings you to my corner of the Dollhouse?”
Zoey turned her face away; a mistake. You never looked away from the hunter when you were in its sights. You stared at it, hoped that you could puff yourself up enou
gh to frighten it away or make it choose an easier target. Perhaps Zoey here did not know how to play with the hunters just yet, but I’d teach her. I would teach her everything she needed to know.
It took her a while to answer me, and when she did, it was clear she did not want to talk about it. “I’m not telling you my whole life’s story.” Her full lips drew in a pout, and she shifted her weight on the couch.
She might not have said much, but I could tell there was something she was hiding from. Or running from. Something in her past she didn’t want to face. She wasn’t the first runaway I’d met in my life, and yet I could honestly say, after this short meeting, she was the most interesting.
Those eyes… you didn’t get a stare like that if you weren’t hiding a darkness inside.
Me? I craved the darkness, reveled in it like it was a long-lost friend. I was at home in the shadows, born into a family that dealt in death and aggression. Without darkness, life would be impossibly boring, and I was about to show Zoey how much fun being bad could be.
Tonight would only be the first of many nights I’d see her. She might not realize it now, but I needed to see her bent over and exposed. I wanted to hear her moans and observe her beautiful face as Carter fucked her against the couch, help her dive headfirst into sin and vice.
This was only the beginning.
I let her go shortly after realizing she wasn’t going to tell me anything about herself. Though I had no qualms about having a monopoly on her time in the Dollhouse, I didn’t want to scare her off immediately.
When I was finished, Carter and I headed towards the front. I pushed into the area that said it was for employees only and found Autumn, the Dollhouse’s current manager, sitting behind her desk, counting money. The woman was quite a few years older than me and not my type, but I could respect her for her business—and, of course, I was thankful for her letting me have that backroom all to myself.
Autumn didn’t ask questions; she never did. She knew what was good for her, and she kept her nose where it belonged. If only everyone could do that; it would save the world a lot of pain.
Carter waited just outside her office. The moment Autumn glanced up from her counting, I reached into my suit jacket’s pocket and pulled out my folded cash. I threw down ten bills; a thousand dollars. “For Crystal,” I said.
She was not surprised, and she nodded as she said, “I’ll make sure she gets it before she leaves tonight.”
I threw down another ten bills—these caused Autumn’s brows to crease, though she kept her mouth shut. “For the new girl, Zoey.”
“Ah, so you’ve seen her, then.”
Running a hand down my chest, I stuck the rest of my money back into my pocket before sitting in the chair near her desk. The erection that had plagued me while watching Carter and Crystal, the one that had lingered as I spoke to Zoey, was now gone; I’d taken care of it after sending Zoey from the room.
“What do you know about her?” I asked. Never before had I inquired about any of the workers like this; just went to show you there truly was a first time for everything. Zoey had my attention from the beginning, and I was not a man who fought his instincts. In fact, I let my instincts take over most days.
“Not much,” Autumn spoke with a shrug. “I didn’t hire her because she impressed me with her work history. She’s pretty. You know once she gets on stage she’ll be a hit around here.”
A hit. My teeth ground at that. Even though I just met the girl, I didn’t want her to be a hit here. I didn’t want any of these other fools drooling over her or trying to cop a feel as she walked past, ogling her on the stage like she belonged to them.
I was getting ahead of myself, I knew, but Zoey would be mine.
I never felt this possessive over anyone before, and I knew it had to do with what I saw in her eyes. Or, rather, what I didn’t see. Zoey wasn’t like the other women working here. She was different. I could not wait until I broke through her walls, tore her down, and tasted the darkness residing inside her.
“I don’t want her dancing,” I said.
My words caused Autumn to scowl, wrinkles forming around her gaze. “You do not get to choose who does what here. You might get that room, but you don’t own this entire place, Roman.” The way she spoke, I knew there would be no arguing with her. To make her see how serious I was about this, there was only one thing I could do.
I said nothing, getting up and walking out. I didn’t own this place? That could be remedied. Anything could be bought if you were insistent enough. Insistent or threatening enough, I should say.
It would take a few days, sped up with even more of my money thrown at it, but once the sale went through, I’d own the Dollhouse. Autumn would be my employee, as would the other women. Zoey? She’d be my personal girl.
Zoey had no idea what I had in store for her.
Chapter Three – Zoey
A thousand fucking dollars, all for barging in the back. All for watching that man, Carter, fuck Crystal and sitting and talking with Roman. A thousand dollars. I mean, I came from a family where a thousand bucks didn’t mean too much, but to me, right now, it was a lot. That could pay my rent next month and for all of my groceries.
I walked home, my mind thinking back to Roman and Carter.
Carter was handsome, his jaw square and his eyes a vibrant, intense green. He had the kind of face I crushed on in high school, big and muscular with a body that could easily pin you down and have its way with you.
Still, even though he’d been a sight to see, all primal and raw as he took Crystal’s mouth and cunt, he was nothing compared to Roman.
Roman was… God, I didn’t even know how to describe him, but I totally understood why anyone and everyone would want to go in the back with him, money aside. In that suit, he was a type of attractive most men just weren’t nowadays. I never was a fan of man buns or long hair on men. A well-groomed man in a suit? My kryptonite, apparently.
Not only that, but he was dangerous. His stares could kill, nail you to your seat, his words dripping venom, even when he wasn’t being overly aggressive.
An assassin. Just, like, what? How was I supposed to take that information? Half of me thought he was kidding when he’d said that, but the more I thought about it, the more I remembered how he’d been in that room, the less I thought he was joking.
Roman killed people. How was anyone supposed to sit in the same room as him and be comfortable? And by sit, I meant a lot more.
I shouldn’t think about him. I should wipe my mind of him and hope that I never saw him again. My gut told me that I would, though, and the worst part was I wanted to be in his presence more. Maybe it was wrong, but I kind of wanted to be in Crystal’s place, the center of his attention, his dark stare trained on me.
The sun was on its early rise as I finally made it back to my apartment building. I was exhausted from staying up all night; soon enough my sleep schedule would adjust, but it wasn’t quite there yet. I planned on promptly passing out the moment I got home.
Home. I hated thinking the tiny studio apartment waiting for me in this dingy building was my home, but it was. I couldn’t be picky, though.
Being alone was such a strange thing for me. Growing up, I always had friends. Friends, crushes, family, but now I had no one except myself, and take it from me, I wasn’t fun company right now.
I got my keys out, punching the up button in front of the elevator, waiting for it to come down, too lost in my own head to realize someone else had come into the building behind me, carrying a large hot coffee and a rolled-up bag that probably held pastries.
“It’s Zoey, right?” The man who stood beside me, also waiting for the elevator, was a face I’d seen a few times since moving in. My neighbor, Lake. A cute guy who I think was going to the community college nearby, maybe a year or two older than me. We’d gotten a small introduction when I’d moved in and realized I had no toilet paper. He was nice enough to give me a roll to get me through my first night.
/> “Yeah,” I said. “Lake?” I made myself smile even though I really didn’t feel like it. Too tired.
He grinned back at me, boyish dimples on his cheeks. His hair was a light blonde, falling over his forehead, shaggy enough to hide the blueness of his eyes if he wasn’t careful. “You remember,” he said, sounding shocked, as if he didn’t think me capable of remembering his name.
“Of course.” As I spoke, the elevator doors opened, and I stepped in, Lake directly behind me.
The elevator was a small space, and I tried to avoid touching Lake’s arm. To do so, I had to push myself against the dirty wall, acting as nonchalant as I could to avoid suspicion. It wasn’t Lake, it was me. He was so nice, maybe even flirty, but I just couldn’t see myself getting into anything serious right now.
Having Carter bend me over in front of Roman wouldn’t be serious. That’d just be for the money, for the release.
At least, that’s what I thought.
Lake clearly couldn’t take the silence of the elevator ride, for he said, “You’re up early.”
I eyed him up. “So are you.”
“Ah, I’m usually up early,” he shrugged it off.
The elevator doors slid open on our floor, and I was the first to step out, hoping the conversation was over. With my key in hand, I went towards my door, working on unlocking it. Unfortunately, Lake didn’t get the hint, because he followed me, still watching me a bit too heavily.
“Just so you know, I’m always down for showing you around town,” he said. “Or getting food. You like food, right?”
Brows creasing, I met his blue-eyed stare. Their hue was much darker than mine, a deep, sapphire color that threatened to drown me. Set in such a cute, innocent face, it felt wrong to deny this guy anything.
But I was duped by Bryan. I couldn’t really judge Lake based on the small bits I’d seen of him around here, even if he seemed like a different sort of guy.
“No,” I deadpanned, “I try not to eat food as much as possible.”
He laughed, and even though I shouldn’t, my ears liked the sound. “Well,” Lake paused, “if you ever change your mind, let me know. Have a good one.” He said nothing else, moving past me to head to his own apartment.