Watching Mine Read online

  Watching Mine

  Copyright © 2018 by Alex Grayson.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Marisa-rose Shor at Cover Me Darling. Interior Formatting Alex Grayson.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials.

  All characters and events appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincide.

  Praise for Alex Grayson

  This chilling story sent shivers down my spine. I could not stop reading. Powerful characters that will stay with me for a long time. A must read! ~Alta Hensley, USA Today Bestselling Author

  Holy stars! I am left speechless. I do not know how to start my review. This book is one of the darkest I have read. Every page have me at the edge of the abyss. It is twisted and darkly written. In my opinion this book would make a really good suspense movie. It has everything for making it painfully addictive. To be honest I do not know who is more twisted, if the authors for writing it or me for reading it. I keep wondering. ~ Alexandra, Amazon reviewer

  Whispered Prayers of a Girl by Alex Grayson is one of those books you will never forget. I was pulled in from the first page until the last. I haven’t read a book in a long time that made me go through as many emotions as this one did. I felt sadness, pity, anger, happiness, regret, and most of all love. I also went through more Kleenexes than I care to admit. ~ Stacy, Amazon reviewer

  My kinda stalker!!!!! Shouldn't romanticize stalking behavior but in this case I will let it slide because I LOVED it. Kept me on the edge the whole time! I loved these two together, Asher is everything hot rolled into a suit! ~ Bratty Book Junkie

  Alex Grayson does it again!! Dirty, gritty and highly erotic, this book was hands down a must read. Well written with likeable characters, this unique subject was handled beautifully. ~ Angieplayera, Amazon reviewer

  Skip the coffee, go straight for the wine and grab a box of tissues. Your going to need them. Alex Grayson’s debut novel Shatter Me will do just that. Shatter the reader to pieces, making them want more! ~ D.J., Amazon reviewer

  Blurb

  My name is Nathan Reines… and I’m a voyeur. Yes, I like to watch people have sex. Witnessing the desire on their faces as they writhe in pleasure makes my blood hotter than the hottest flame. There’s nothing more erotic than seeing their bodies tighten and tremble as they balance on the edge of ecstasy. It makes my dick as hard as fucking steel.

  I’ve never been tempted to have a lasting relationship with a woman—why get involved when watching from the sidelines is so fucking hot? But from the first time I watched the woman in the apartment across from mine, I knew she was different. She teases me with her soft touches and gentle caresses. She tempts me with her silent moans and sexy whimpers. She excites me, and makes me want more than I ever have before.

  For two years, I refused to give in to my curiosity. That is, until fate took things in her own twisted hands. Now that I know what it’s like to experience Emberleigh in the flesh, there’s no damn way I could ever go back to simply watching.

  Disclaimer

  Not suitable for anyone under the age of 18 due to strong sexual content and harsh language

  Dedication

  This goes out to my girl Marie C! It’s official, Nathan is yours! Thank you so much for the very very entertaining notes!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Watching Mine

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Other books by Alex Grayson

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Nathan

  I SIT BACK IN THE KITCHEN CHAIR I have parked in front of my window. Picking up the binoculars in my lap, I bring them to my eyes. The focus is off, so I twist the dial until it’s clear, then zoom in on the person I’m watching in the apartment across from mine. She’s entering the mouth of the hallway that leads to her bedroom.

  I take my eyes from her just long enough to look at the clock on the stove. Right on time. Just like every Tuesday night.

  My body tightens in anticipation.

  Once she enters her room, her hands move to her hair and she releases the long blonde strands from her ponytail. She grabs the mass of curls and brings it over her shoulder before she runs her fingers through it.

  My hands tighten on the binoculars with the need to have my own fingers in her hair, gripping it as I guide her head where I want her.

  She stops in front of her dresser, her hands moving to the buttons on her bright red shirt, and she slowly starts releasing them. A black bra comes into view and my dick hardens beneath the zipper. The material slowly slides down her arms until it lands on the floor. Smooth tanned skin tempts me.

  The open black curtains flutter as she passes by them. She disappears for a moment before her form comes back into view. Her hands move to the button and zipper on her skinny jeans. When she shakes her ass to get the tight material over her hips, I swear she’s putting on a show just for me. My balls draw up, and I’m forced to release the button and zipper on my own jeans. It never takes much for this woman to put me on the edge.

  The first time I saw her was two years and two months ago, and it’s a day I’ll never fucking forget for as long as I live. I had been standing in front of the window, drinking a beer and randomly looking out across the way when something caught my eye. A woman, with her back facing the window, her wild blonde hair cascading down her back. She was on her knees in front of a man. His head was tilted back, one hand on the window behind her, the other fisting a chunk of her hair. Although he was helping guide her, the woman knew exactly what she was doing. I couldn’t see her face, but I desperately wanted to. I’ve always enjoyed watching people have sex, watching people period, but there was something about watching the woman’s blonde head bob back and forth as she took the guy in her mouth. To this day, I still don’t know what it is.

  I took out my phone, pulled up the camera feature and zoomed in as far as I could. I still couldn’t see her face, but fuck if the view didn’t get better anyway. After several more minutes of her blowing him, he yanked her away. She stood, and without prompt, turned around and flattened her hands against the glass, presenting her ass to him. My first look at her face wasn’t that great through my camera, but it was enough to send the last of the blood in my body straight to my dick. I blew my load all over the window as I watched the guy fuck her.

  I was at the window every day for nine days after that before I saw her again, and each of those days that she didn’t appear drove m
e insane. The day she did show, she was alone, and all she did was eat a meal she warmed in the microwave, watch the television for an hour, then go to bed. I soaked up every second of seeing her again.

  I don’t know where she goes, but she’s rarely home. However, for the past year and a half, every Tuesday night, like clockwork, my ass sits in this chair, and I watch her. Every week the same thing happens. Except for that first time, she’s never brought a man home. Her curtains are always open, except one day a week. Thursday. Every once in a while, I’ll see her walking through her apartment, but most of the time she’s not there.

  I don’t know her name, what she does for a living, if she has a family, or even the color of her eyes, but Tuesday is my favorite day of the week, because that’s when she puts on a show for me. This girl is mine, even if only in my head.

  I feel a drop of precum bead at the tip of my cock as she slips the thin straps of her thong over the curve of her hips. When she bends to take it off, exposing the glistening folds of her pussy, I reach down and palm my hardness.

  I hear a knock behind me, but I ignore it, my attention solely on the show going on before me.

  When the woman stands again, she moves to the bed, gingerly taking a seat. She scoots back against the pillows, and my blood pressure rises in anticipation of what I know is coming next.

  My fingers tighten around the binoculars as she settles back and lets her legs fall open. A groan slips past my lips, and I squeeze my cock harder. One hand moves to her tit and she pinches her nipple, while the other heads south. She doesn’t touch her pussy immediately. At first, she skims hers fingers over the inside of her thighs, getting close to her center, then veering away from it.

  She likes to tease herself. She likes to tease me. Even if she doesn’t know it.

  The air changes in the room, and I know someone just walked into my apartment. My eyes don’t leave the woman and my hand slowly continues its strokes as I feel someone walk up beside me.

  “Hey, man, why didn’t….” The voice trails off, before there’s a muttered curse. “Fuck.”

  I don’t say anything, but out the corner of my eye, I see Tegan look toward the window. A small part of me, a foreign part that I’ve never experienced before, wants to yank his gaze away from the window and gouge out his eyes so he can’t look anymore. I’ve never before in my life felt possessive over a woman. I want to see women with other men. I get off on it. It turns my dick to fucking granite to see a man fucking a woman or a woman getting herself off. Hell, even two men fucking makes me hot as hell. It doesn’t matter. As long as someone is getting off, then so am I. I’ve been this way since I was a teenager.

  But the thought of Tegan watching the woman in the apartment across the street has anger hitting my gut like a ton of bricks. I grit my teeth and force the feeling away.

  “It’s Tuesday,” he grunts beside me. “I should have known you’d be getting your rocks off with 9B.”

  I continue to ignore him and keep the binoculars at my eyes. Tegan knows he won’t get much of a response out of me. Not when she’s home, not on Tuesday. He doesn’t ask why I’m sitting in the dark either. I’m not going to blatantly advertise my Tuesday night masturbation session to the woman by having my lights on to illuminate me. That would be fucking stupid on my part.

  “Are you coming tomorrow night?” he asks, walking away and leaning against the island with his arms over his chest.

  “Yes,” I answer tersely, ready for him to be gone.

  “What time you planning to be there?”

  I grind my molars together. “Whenever I get there.”

  “Good, because Abby wants everyone to come.”

  I stay silent and watch the woman strum her clit with her finger. Her back arches and her mouth falls open. I can’t hear her, of course, but I know she just let out a low moan. She bites her bottom lip, then licks the plump flesh, and I wonder what she tastes like.

  I pull harder on my cock and let out my own deep groan. Tegan, still standing off to the side, either doesn’t hear or ignores it. I’m sure it’s the latter. My friends and I aren’t shy. We’ve all had some type of sexual contact with the others. Not because we’re into each other, but because we use each other to fill sexual voids when we need them. We all have sexual addictions or perversions, things most people look at with disgust.

  I like to watch, Tegan likes to be watched, Abby is a bona fide sex addict, and Ava only has role play sex. Abby, Tegan, and I met during sexual therapy sessions. Ava came along later when Abby met her in a bar. We all left the sessions at the same time when we realized they were a waste. Who are the doctors to say our perversions should be “cured”?

  Fucking nobody.

  I hear my fridge close and the cap off a beer bottle hit my counter. The woman in the apartment releases her nipple and grabs the headboard, her fingers gripping one of the rails. Her back arches even more and it thrusts her tits out. My mouth waters with the need to clamp my teeth around those pointed tips.

  “Leave,” I growl to Tegan without taking my eyes off the woman.

  A bottle clunks on the counter, feet move across the floor, there’s the snick of my door opening, then, “have fun” before the door closes.

  The view in the apartment across from mine damn near has me erupting. She’s got two fingers stuffed in her pussy, her thumb wildly rubbing her clit. Her back is still bowed back, her legs wide, her mouth open into a shout, and her chest heaves up and down.

  My stomach muscles tighten and the hand holding the binoculars starts to shake. My release is going to be explosive. It always is when I come watching her.

  Seconds later, just as her body stiffens from her orgasm, intense pleasure shoots up my cock and spurts out the tip. A grunt leaves the back of my throat as ropes of cum land on my belly and chest.

  Fuck, that was good.

  The woman’s body relaxes against the pillow, her breathing matching my shallow pants as we both recover together. I may be fucked in the head, but the thought of her and me coming together, like we’re actually in the same room, keeps me just as hard as I was before.

  After several moments, she gets up from the bed, grabs the robe at the end, slips it on, and walks into the bathroom, where I know she’s going to take a shower. I get up from my chair and walk into my own bathroom. Letting my jeans drop to the floor, I step under the spray to clean the cum from my chest and stomach.

  I walk out of my room, grab a beer from the fridge, and chug half of it down before taking it to the bar with me. I glance over to the window and see her bedroom lights are off. This is typical. On Tuesday nights, she comes home, undresses, gets herself off, showers, then goes straight to bed. Most of the rest of the week, she’s gone

  It wouldn’t take much for me to find out her name and where she goes when she isn’t home, but I don’t want to know. I’m not sure if I’ll ever really meet her, but until I do, I want to keep part of her a mystery.

  I sit on one of the stools, grab my laptop, and although I work on the emails I’ve missed since leaving work, my mind isn’t far from the tempting woman in the apartment building across from mine.

  ChapterTwo

  Nathan

  WHEN I STEP OUT INTO THE COOL Atlanta weather, my phone vibrates. I pull the device from my pocket and look at the screen.

  Asher calling.

  I hit Accept and bring the phone to my ear.

  “Reines.”

  “Where are you?” he demands by way of greeting.

  I used to work for Asher Knight as one of his security guards. Since opening my own business two years ago, I’ve picked him up as a client. We’ve also become friends.

  “Heading to the office,” I answer. “What’s wrong?”

  “I found Larry asleep in the control room,” he growls. “He’s headed back to your office with a few less teeth and a couple of black eyes. And he better be grateful I didn’t do more. Luckily, Samuel was with him and noticed when the guy came out of the shadows after my
wife. Get rid of him, Nathan, or I will.”

  “Fuck,” I snarl, anger locking my body tight. “How’s Poppy?”

  “The guy shoved her, and she hit her head. She says she’s fine.” I hear soft murmuring on Asher’s end. “But I’m taking her to the hospital anyway,” he finishes louder, like he’s not only telling me, but Poppy as well.

  Larry is a very lucky man to still be walking around. One thing you don’t do is fuck with Asher Knight’s wife. The man is completely obsessed with her. As in he watched her for a year, broke into her house at night to watch her, put cameras in each room, had a tracking device on her car, and controlled the dating site she was signed up for. He even went as far as disposing of a man who had dirty plans for Poppy. The only reason I know all this is because when I took him on as a client he explained to me the lengths he would go to protect Poppy and keep her happy. His words were, “She’s the most important thing. She’s to be protected at any and all costs, above anything else.”

  So yeah, had the damage been worse than a bump on the head, I’m sure Larry would’ve been carried out of Silver Technologies, versus him walking out on his own two feet.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  Anger spikes as I think about Larry and what I would like “taking care of it” to mean. Self-loathing slides in beside the anger. I hired him against my better judgement. I had a feeling during the interview that the guy couldn’t hack what was required for this type of job. I don’t run a mediocre business. We aren’t rent-a-cops you see in shopping centers. Each person I hire goes through an extensive background check. Each person must have the capability and willingness to take down a threat, even at the expense of their own well-being. Danger is part of the job, but you still do it knowing that danger. The companies my men work with are big corporations with rich and powerful men. My men don’t have to like every client they work with, but they better fucking protect them with their life.