Voyeur

by Christine Alvarez

  Voyeur

  Christine Alvarez

  Copyright © 2015 by Christine Alvarez

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Printing: November, 2015

  Acknowledgements

  I don’t even know where to start. Over the last few books, I have developed an amazing team of people that have been instrumental in helping me at every turn.

  First, I need to thank my son for turning five and entering Kindergarten. The hours of peace and quiet helped the words flow.

  In all seriousness, I have to thank my family for sticking by my side. For dealing with my excessive worry, ramblings and sleepless nights.

  My PA, Jennifer Wedmore, who has become much more than an assistant. She would make sure to give me the truth and nothing but the truth when I would PM her at all hours. She also beta reads for me and does a fantastic job. Her critiques are spot on and help to make sure the story works.

  My editor, Chelly Peeler, but again, not only my editor. If Jenn didn’t have the answers, she was my next stop and sometimes my first. She caught all those ridiculous errors and even the monstrous ones that would put palm to forehead a few times.

  Marisa-rose Shore from Cover Me, Darling. She created Voyeur’s fabulous cover. I was able to send her a rough idea of what I had in mind and a bit about the book and she was able to create perfection. She made sure the cover would pop and I couldn’t be happier.

  Oh my goodness, my beta team - Sheri Spell and Lynde Shaw. A small list, but they work to make sure every hole, every oddly worded sentence was noticed and that Voyeur ended up the best it could possibly be.

  I always want to acknowledge my readers, the blogs and reviewers that take time out of their lives to READ. You all are the reason we publish. Without you, we wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be here.

  Thank you for all the hard work and time you have put into me and my books.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Voyeur; the act of watching someone for sexual pleasure.”

  The man’s sweat slickened body was still flushed from his almost naked workout. He had moved into a prime location. Almost every room was made up with glass windows overlooking the city. It was a stellar prize for both him and me.

  I had spent the last hour watching his calf and ass tense and pulse with each push or pull. His strong biceps tighten with each curl. Every moment documented behind my eyes. Now was the best part of the evening. This had become my routine - watching some unknown man in the penthouse adjacent to mine work out, shower and sleep nude and alone, much like myself for the past month.

  Halfway to the shower he stopped, staring toward the front door and causing me to practically lean over the balcony. Something new. Something to break the monotony that had become my nightly routine. I couldn’t see that side of the house, beyond his door was a mystery. I hadn’t exactly placed myself in an out of sight location. If he turned in my direction, I would be caught. An irate body builder or jail time wasn’t in the schedule so all I could do was bank on any luck I still had.

  He stood there, his body tense. The man was unsure of what to do next. It was plain from his lack of enthusiasm and his obvious confusion he had a track record of being alone. Much like myself. I wanted to yell across the night sky for him to hurry, run to the door. It would put a pause in my nightly pleasure, but for some odd reason I needed him to move beyond what we had grown so accustomed to.

  Finally, he slowly padded across his tiled floor toward the door. He wasn’t worried about how the surprise visitor would perceive him answering the door in nothing but boxer shorts. It made my dick twitch with his bold carelessness. He ran his fingers through his short hair and adjusted his entire demeanor. He wouldn’t let whoever it was see what I could see. What I had seen for so many weeks. The lonely man that I had fucked myself to night after night.

  Without looking through the peephole, he pulled the door open, revealing a brunette woman. Her hair flowed around her angry face, but her short black dress and fuck me heels offered something entirely different than her lips that were drawn into a frown. These two had history. She wanted to be angry with him. She just may have been for something or another, but she had shown up for completely different reasons.

  This night may be lucky after all for him and me. With his focus clearly on the beautiful girl still standing in his entryway, my chances of being caught were slim to none. By him anyways. Women, I have learned, secretly liked to be watched by either a man or a woman so even if she caught me, I wouldn’t deal with anything more than a secret smirk.

  I drowned out the taxis and the excessive amount of horns for eleven pm and waited. My fingers absently pulled at the buttons of my pants. I let my eyes flick to the dark balconies that peppered the night sky. Maybe I would catch someone watching me watch someone else, but there was nothing. It was just me, alone to bask in whatever happened next.

  My heart sank as my eyes slid back to the evening show. Arguing. Instead of small kisses, light flirting, signs of imminent hard fucking or slow love making, they were arguing. Her eyes were welling up. The man was rushing through the apartment, arms flailing back and forth. Anger marred his normally serene, sexy face. He jerked a pair of sweat pants off the back of a chair and with forced enthusiasm, he crammed each leg in, my cock deflating as I watched my night travel right back to the land of shit.

  There was always a chance for a make-up fuck, but waiting wasn’t in my bag of tricks. I needed it now. He had never disappointed me. Never had he gotten my hopes up and not delivered. Once that happened, I was done. No second chances. I wouldn’t be spending my nights on this balcony any longer. His routine would change. Even if there was make-up sex that I would regret missing, I wouldn’t have this. There would be nights just like this one or none at all.

  I took a deep breath of the city’s smoke-wrapped air and put my pants back to rights. Tomorrow was the day that my father’s lawyer read the will. He had died only a few days ago and already the family was fighting over the rights to Steele Corporations. I, on the other hand, knew I wouldn’t be the one to gain his position. Not only did I not want it, my father was not a stupid man.

  He had been sick for months, hence my being in the city in the first place, but a businessman I was not. I didn’t care for figures or authority. I slid the glass door open, letting myself back into the main floor of my penthouse. It was the best of the best, and I hated it.

  I clicked the lock, keeping out anyone who wanted to climb up thirty stories or down twenty to crawl through my balcony door. Paranoia, a family trait. I worked not to look back at what I had lost. I needed sleep. I needed the punishment of my partially erect cock. Tomorrow would be a fun day. Thank God Rod will be there. He isn’t a Steele, but he would be there at my request. He is the angel on my shoulder that keeps me grounded, as I have too many demons that sit on my other one.

  MONTHS LATER…….

  I crumpled the fucking rejected proposal and sent it sailing through the air. Angrily, I yanked my jeans down and flung myself backward, letting out my frustrations with an exaggerated sigh.

  With one arm behind my head, I gripped the base of my cock and jerked hard. The sudden delicious pain was a necessity. I pulled and stroked my flaccid dick, faster and with quickening urgency. I watched the head pulse as I rubbe
d across its sensitive tip, pushing the warm juice further down the hardening shaft.

  I licked my lips as the sensation I had been waiting for grew with each pass. I stared intently at my own work. I had spent many nights watching at shady back alley clubs, fetish rooms, and elite sex clubs that I joined that catered to the rich. The sensation of this alone was just as powerful as the actions themselves.

  The whirl of the ceiling fan and the steady panting of my work was the only thing that filled the emptiness that I had built around myself. I pulled and jerked, mixing pleasure with pain. I craved this punishing ecstasy.

  I sucked in deep, shaky breaths. My head tilted back and my eyes slid shut as I focused on the coming release. I pumped and thrust my hips upward, aiding my hand’s work. Bucking and moaning, I forced my eyes open as I shuddered, my body no longer able to keep a steady pace.

  I couldn’t hold back as a cry burst from my lungs, my eyes glued to the cum that shot up, coating my hand and pushing me over the edge with my final thrusts. The letter forgotten, my ties to a world I didn’t belong to were shoved to the wayside as I worked my sensitive dick once, twice and finally releasing it on the third blissful stroke.

  I used my clean hand to pull a rag from the nightstand, cleaning up as best as I could. I wanted to lay there and bask in the aftermath. To enjoy the tingling weightlessness that came with every orgasm, but I couldn’t. I had another stupid fucking meeting with a bunch of dumb fucks that my father had left me to run his company with.

  I balled up the bedspread along with the towel and threw them toward the general direction of the laundry room. My entire body was thrumming from the self-induced high as I stripped the rest of my clothing away.

  **********************

  Dread tore at my euphoria as I let the heat from the shower pound against my tired muscles. My dead daddy’s money, prestige and connections couldn’t help in landing a new contract. I wasn’t him and the whole time he was alive, he made sure I knew that.

  I lathered the soap up and down my body, shuddering each time I ran the course sponge over my abused dick. I had to deny my need as it hopped and begged to be dealt with once more. I made quick work of rinsing off. Just to punish myself further, I turned the cold water on full blast, letting its icy assault take down the erection that would haunt me the rest of the day.

  The frigid sting ripped a hiss from my clenched jaw. When I shut off the attack, my nerves were no longer praising my affection, but crying loudly from my abuse.

  I towel dried in record time, shoving myself into another stuffy black pin-striped suit and cramming my feet into dress socks and shiny black shoes. I ignored the persistent dinging that came in a steady rhythm from my cell that sat on the counter. I was late and I knew it had to be Rod wondering where the fuck I was. He was a prompt bastard and I had left him alone with a bunch of old, stuck up workaholics to fumble through excuse after excuse as to why I was late.

  He was the one stipulation for continuing with the company and not selling it the minute I had a chance - they had to accept my best friend as partner. He had a Master’s Degree in Business and he wasn’t a prick, so I needed him. I plucked the phone from the counter just as it stopped vibrating. Sure enough, I had missed eight calls from Rod and three texts. I knew what they would say so I sat it back on the counter.

  I shook myself, trying to feel some sort of comfort in the business attire that I was forced to wear. I couldn’t handle another craptacular meeting. My eyes shifted to the crumpled up letter on the floor. Just the sight of another downfall made my body shake uncontrollably and had heat ripping through my nerves. How I had gotten roped into this was beyond me. I didn’t even want the fucking company that my father had abandoned us for.

  The buzz of my cell ran across my nerves. Nope, this wasn’t fucking happening the way they liked. I was the owner of this company. I wasn’t mentally insane and they couldn’t buy my shares. I shucked the suit jacket off and with quick effort, wiggled my legs from the stiff pant legs. If I had to walk and talk corporate takeovers and small business buyouts, I would do it my way. I made my way back to my room, leaving a trail of stupidly expensive clothing in my wake.

  I grabbed a pair of worn jeans and replaced the button-up shirt with a t-shirt, a faded eighties hair band logo barely visible from being washed over and over. I slid the suit jacket over the top and replaced the business loafers with my white Converse tennis shoes.

  I shoved my fingers through my chin length hair, letting its dark strands lay however they wanted. I wasn’t an idiot, but I wasn’t a stuffy suit either. I kicked the crumpled piece of paper as I grabbed the keys to my bike from where they hung on the wall. Yeah, today was a motorcycle type of day. Daddy’s Porsche wouldn’t be making it to work.

  I loved the feel of my Harley-Davidson Street 750 between my legs and the low purr of the engine helped alleviate at least a little of my irritation at where my life had ended up. I had never been inclined to buy a helmet. Stupid, I know. The day I had walked in, cash in hand, the salesman had even offered one free of charge, but nothing he said swayed me into taking it, not even my own life.

  I hated navigating downtown Elton’s streets. Taxis and corporate America trying to get to work on time. Coffee-denied cellphone zombies fighting over parking spots in front of one of the many cafés that had sprouted up on every corner. Horns and people everywhere, it was a fucking mess.

  If I knew I could get away with it, I would use the sidewalks to get around the congestion. I glanced at an unusually clear part, letting that thought marinate. I was tired, burnt out, and needed a change. I let the idea fade as the light turned green and I was able to finally move.

  As I grew closer to the conglomerate that was Steele Corporations, selling the entire damn thing sounded like a better plan. I could even visualize a large red “For Sale” billboard out front. I laughed at the absurdity that my thoughts had taken on.

  If I did go through with that thought, it wouldn’t go down like that and what remained of my family would find me a bigger fuck up than they already did. My mother still had no clue why my father would leave such a company to a faggot such as myself. In her words, my brother with his wife and two kids would provide a more wholesome image for the company. That had been one of the few reasons I had kept the damn company.

  I really didn’t care if any of them thought of me as a fuck up, I really just kept the company out of spite. Maybe I was more like the old man than I thought. I laughed as I pulled into the parking garage. Nothing like realizing that you are just as much of a bastard as the man you hate.

  I had no clue why Declan had left me the company anyways. His money had sent me through school and my business skills were impeccable, but he knew I hated this company. I hated what it stood for. I had smaller plans for myself. He always bitched and complained about my lack of responsibility so he trapped me with a multi-million dollar one. That was the only reason I could think of for the spiteful bastard to have chosen me.

  I pulled into the parking spot that had been my father’s before mine, scowling at the name plaque that now read “Jackson Steele” instead of “Declan Steele Sr.”. With the motorcycle off, I could once again feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I had left him hanging and without knowing if I was even coming long enough.

  “I’m in the garage, Rod,” I growled into the phone without giving him an opening to cuss me out for standing him up.

  “I sure hope you’re fucking running,” Rod whisper-growled into the phone. His voice held a faint echo.

  “Are you hiding in the bathroom?” I said through a laugh. For a man that wanted this life in business, he sure couldn’t deal with the pressures it came with.

  “You fucking know it. They are driving me up the wall, your brother and sister and, of course, Jon. They are making me bat shit crazy.” His hushed tone was flat and irritated. He didn’t find this as amusing as I did.

  “Tell them I’m on my way up,” I said, biting back any further laughter. He
was stressed out to the max and I needed him cool and collected when I walked in like this.

  “Just hurry up,” he huffed before ending our call.

  I stared at the home screen on my phone looking for a missed call from either Emily or Declan. Neither of them had tried to call or text. They expected this from their brother, they couldn’t be bothered with the thought that something could have happened. I ground my teeth together, trying to push away the anger that would bring defiant thoughts.

  I slid the phone back into my coat pocket, deciding to stop trying to search for something that wasn’t there.

  I neared the elevator just as a woman in a short, tight business suit was getting off. She watched me walk, pinning me as her next target. Her slim body and tanned skin appeared well cared for. Her lips twitched and her green eyes shown, she thought her hard work had paid off. I flashed her a full, toothy smile. Her entire demeanor screamed at my abused cock.

  “Good morning, Mr. Steele.” The purr in her words would make a normal man melt.

  “It is, isn’t it?” I let my words come out low, playing with her would be fun.

  I stopped just in front of her, our bodies just about touching. Her slow, steady breathing had her plump, fake breasts grazing my jacket. She was beautiful and the barely noticeable scent of lavender was quite intoxicating. Release suddenly soared through my mind.

  I couldn’t walk into that room with the rage that was building. I couldn’t fake nonchalance. I was a great businessman. They couldn’t say anything against my approach, but still everyone up there besides Rod hated me for a multitude of reasons - jealousy, fear, disappointment - none of it should matter, but it did.