Voyeur Ch. 03

Ben opened one eye to watch Rachel silently scurry about the room. The corner of his mouth turned up in an evil smile, observing her flustered panic as she ran a desperate hand through her tousled long hair, frantically looking around with exasperation.

Eventually Ben chuckled, and Rachel jumped as she realised he was awake and watching her.

"Dressed already?" he innocently inquired, slowly rolling onto his back to fold his hands behind his head, completely at ease as she continued to look around furtively.

"Y-yes. Well..." she stammered, wringing her hands and averting her eyes from his muscular bare chest. "I was just looking for my handbag."

"Oh," Ben said lightly, offering no assistance. He could almost read her thoughts as though they appeared above her head in block-lettered speech bubbles.

I can't leave without my handbag! And if I do... I'll have to come back!

"Come back to bed," he purred, patting the empty space beside him.

"But...but I'm dressed now," Rachel objected, edging toward the door.

"You're not leaving."

Rachel paused, unsure whether it was a question, statement, or an order. In the harsh light of morning Ben looked sensually hot, like the heartthrob centrefold of a women's magazine. And she was dishevelled and dirty, and probably looking like she ought to go out with the trash.

"Anyway," Rachel chose to ignore his unnerving words, and roughly secured her hair in a ponytail. As the silky tresses were restrained behind her head, Ben frowned disapprovingly.

There was a pregnant pause as both of them wondered what she would say. Ben watched curiously as Rachel opened her mouth. But her mind was blank, so she opted for the exit of an undignified one-night-stand - she turned and ran.

"The fuck?" Ben jerked up in bed, not believing his eyes. So much for hiding her stuff to anchor her to the apartment!

With an effort, Rachel finally unlatched the front door and heaved it open, before it snapped shut in her face with a force that sent her stumbling backward into Ben's arms.

"That's enough. We're having a talk," he said bluntly, pointing to the couch.

Rachel didn't move. When Ben seized her arm to lead her, he felt her tension, and it wasn't the nervous, excited vibe she normally emitted from his touch. Peering down at her face, he was shocked to see she was on the verge of real tears.

"Talk to me, Rachel, please," he softly pleaded, releasing her arm and tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"You don't understand!" she said wretchedly, unable to look at him. "You're making a mistake with me."

"Why? Is your dad head of the mafia, or something?" he raised an eyebrow with a wry smile.

"You don't get it," she muttered, and Ben was horrified when tears dripped down her cheeks. He wanted to kiss them away, immediately, but he held back, eager to hear her explanation.

"You think...I mean..." she began, struggling to find the words. "I'm boring."

"Huh?" Ben gasped, completely baffled. He experienced a very strange sensation of both wanting to laugh at the absurd claim, and feeling outraged that she dared say such a thing. His hand twitched with the temptation to spank her.

"I mean, you'll get tired of me. Someone like you-" Rachel shook her head. "I could never be good enough. There, I said it. Let me go."

"Fuck that!" Ben exclaimed, with a very dark frown.

Suddenly comprehending her insecurity, little could Rachel know that it was only with every ounce of his self-control that Ben supressed the evil smile that fought to surface, and it was a big one. Everything made sense now, with perfect clarity. She was naturally shy, yes. But there was more. How could he not realise?

Rachel had been burned. Someone had hurt her, badly. Ben felt a twinge of guilt about how deeply grateful he was for it. Without it, who knows, she could still be dating the guy whose teeth he'd like to knock out for being such a bastard, a person to whom he simultaneously wanted to send a gift of expensive scotch for releasing her. Otherwise, they likely would have never met...

Stifling this upsetting line of thought, Ben noticed Rachel was rudely staring up at him with a 'Don't you get it, moron?' look.

Ben took a deep, contemplative breath. Then without warning he picked her up and carried her to the couch.

"Ben! What are you doing!" Rachel squealed, struggling as she was lowered to the cushions.

Ben ignored her, and gently pushed her back when she tried to get to her feet. Seated beside her, he took her hand and held it very firmly in both of his.

"I'm going to say this once," he said bluntly, trying not to be distracted by her cheeks again turning adorably red. "We all have issues, and I can deal with yours. But you're not leaving. Understand?"

Rachel looked rebellious for the first time, and opened her mouth to argue, but he continued without giving her the chance.

"I don't sleep with girls in a first meeting and I don't stalk them at their work - I normally have more dignity than that. I never bring them to my home. But now, it feels right. Not because it's a good time for me. Because you feel right."

Rachel widened her eyes at her lap with a superior scepticism that made Ben reconsider spanking her.

"I don't give a fuck whether or not you believe me," he growled, releasing her hand so he could pinch her chin and force her to meet his eyes. "You're not leaving."

"I have to go home at some stage," she mumbled.

Ben mouth formed a thin line as he conceded her point. But instead of talking, he leaned forward to smooth tears from her face, and began to plant gentle kisses across her cheeks.

"Ben-" Rachel argued, but with a light giggle that made him shiver. Suddenly her hair was released from the ponytail, and Ben stroked the long, reddish-brown tresses free with relish.

"I want you. Again," he breathed against her temple. One hand lifted her shirt while the other fumbled with her pants. "Besides, you can't leave in dirty clothes," he insisted, with an agenda that had nothing to do with chivalry. "I'll wash them for you."

"But I don't have anything else! I can't always be naked!" Rachel exclaimed shrilly, feebly pushing against his chest as he moved in close to reach around and unclasp her bra.

"Why not? Will you feel better if I'm naked, too?" Ben offered, deliberately embarrassing her. "I forgot how much you like my being naked..."

And there it was, the sexy blush that complimented her features. Too impatient to carry her upstairs, Ben briskly pulled off the rest of her clothes and settled her in his lap. She was naked on top of him, and it was wonderful.

"My God," he breathed, his hands full of her breasts. They were pale, silky and firm. Her nipples were the same delectable pastel pink colour as her lips.

"Kiss me, Rae," he groaned, gently kneading her breasts. The nickname wasn't planned, it just came naturally. Ben closed his eyes as her lips tentatively met his, and at that first moment's contact his cock hardened painfully.

Held comfortingly close while she kissed him, Rachel felt a strange sensation as the concrete walls she'd built around her emotions began to chip and crumble. Marcus, her ex, was so adamant that no one could love her. That she was a dud in bed, and out of it. That she was so lucky he even put up with her, because no other man would tolerate the way she was.

But Ben was fervently kissing her, holding her close and touching her chest with a joy that she knew was real. And he hardly knew her at all, and he still wanted her. Dared she think...

"Will you give me a chance, Rae?" Ben said huskily, kissing her cheek and running a hand through her hair to look into her eyes.

In the natural light of day, he saw Rachel was really pretty. She was alluring in a natural, wholesome way that just drove him crazy, knowing how sexual she was beneath the prudish exterior. She was nothing like the confidently smokey-eyed, modelesque, party girls he usually went for.

Ben loved lipstick on women, but right now, the idea of masking the precious pink tones of Rachel's lush mouth beneath a sticky coat of paint made him mildly angry. Who'd have thought he'd fall in love with a timid girl?

Ben took a moment to comprehend his last thought. Yes, it was love. Physical as his attraction was, he was genuinely interested in Rachel. And for a man with a nonchalant thick skin when it came to dealings with women, he desperately wanted her to return his feelings. He never cared what women thought of him in the past. Suddenly, it vitally mattered.

"Just give me a chance," he whispered. He felt like an animal trapper luring a suspicious, breathtakingly rare and beautiful bird that he wanted to keep forever.

"I'll be kind, I won't hurt you. I'll be nice, if it doesn't work out," he gently reassured her, though almost laughed out loud with his next thought.

As if I'd let you slip through my fingers.

"Alright," Rachel murmured doubtfully, also sensing he wouldn't exactly take 'no' for an answer.

"Great!" Ben grinned hugely, and not without relief. His features were light-heartedly charming, a very different appearance to the brooding scowl that surfaced when he'd caught her sneaking off.

"You liked watching me from a distance. Take advantage of me, now you've got me."

"What?" Rachel said faintly, feeling overwhelmed.

It was as though she'd stumbled into a fantasy world where time stood still, and she'd inevitably wake up in the dusty, abandoned offices to discover it was all a pathetic dream.

Watching her hungrily, Ben lifted her from his lap so he could shift down the couch and lie back. He beckoned her wickedly, but Rachel didn't move, genuinely puzzled by the movement.

"What...what do you mean?" she faltered, looking over his hard, flexing body. His giant erection pointed her direction though his underwear.

"I want to taste you. Sit on my face."

"What? I couldn't do that!" she gasped, scandalized. At the same time, a sharp tingle rattled through her pussy at the obscene image that followed.

"Yes, you will. Hurry up, I can't wait," Ben cheekily licked his lips, reaching for her. "Just straddle my face, and relax."

Hesitantly crawling up his body, Rachel was very conscious of his guiding hands squeezing and stroking her bare skin as she moved over him.

"Yeah," he muttered, her pretty, pink pussy in his face. "Oh, fuck yes."

Moving his dark gaze from her spread exposure, up her smooth stomach to her tits, roundly protruding from her chest, he reached to seize one in his hand and extended his tongue to lick up her soft, velvet folds.

"OH!' Rachel gasped, instinctively pressing down against his mouth. His warm breath, tongue, and lips massaging her so intimately felt incredible. Then his hand moved on her breast with his mouth's rhythm, his thumb circling and pressing down on her erect nipple.

"You taste so good! Come in my mouth!" he thickly muttered, his mind blissfully consumed with rampant ideas of sex. For once he wasn't thinking about work, and didn't even know what day it was. He didn't care.

Rachel trembled when he spoke, his hot words reverberating against her sensitively. Even before he gave the order, she didn't think it could be avoided.

Ben heard her breathing accelerate and looked up to see her arch and moan. Sadly he couldn't see her face, but he imagined her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly ajar with desire for what he was doing to her. Pinching her nipple, he edged his other hand under her pussy, spreading her wide for his searching tongue.

Finding her swollen clit, his tongue lightly teased it, and Rachel moaned urgently. Then he inserted his thumb in her pussy, elated as it wetly squeezed into her tight hole. At the same time, he tweaked her nipple, latched onto her clit and sucked hard.

Overtaken by a number of unexpected sensations whilst on the brink of an orgasm, Rachel whimpered, groaned, then half-screamed at the intense, almost painful pleasure radiating through her body. As she recovered, still gasping for breath, Ben grinned ecstatically against her wet pussy, although he hadn't come, yet.

"Did you like that?" he asked, trying to sound calm and controlled, when he was genuinely worried he might explode in his pants.

"Yeah," she exhaled, sounding dizzy and not entirely aware of his presence, until he began to play with her breasts, and edge her backward.

"Will...will you ride me?" he asked unsteadily, mesmerised by the deliciously round flesh in his hands. "Please?"

Nodding with a very sultry look on her face, Rachel's eyes half-closed with lust as she reached into his underwear and found his cock. After a couple of teasing pumps with her hand, she straddled him, lined herself up and began to sink down.

"Oh, fuck!" Ben groaned, seizing her hips to lift her up and down a few times, but unable to hold out any longer. Again, his cock painfully ached before throbbing to unleash a load inside her.

Sighing contentedly, Rachel continued to slowly grind on top of him to drag out the wonderful sensations, until his hand slid up and over her breasts to linger at the nape of her neck, urging her down so their lips could meet.

******

A man in a shiny grey suit that was too small for him briskly made his way through a busy corridor, annoyance showing on his face each time someone unwittingly blocked his path.

Finding the office he looked for, he knocked and entered without invitation.

It was a large, newly cluttered room, and the man sitting at an enormous glass desk by the window irritably glanced up from the drawing in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" he scowled, impatiently pushing the pages aside.

Marcus was tall and lean, with good features which might have been attractive if there wasn't a perpetually sullen look about him. Though his light brown hair and olive green eyes were striking at times, his high cheekbones were unflatteringly flushed from harbouring a long term, bad-tempered demeanour.

"I've been calling you."

"Well, I've been busy!" Marcus snapped, irritably brushing his hand over his desk and sending papers to the floor. "They won't take my sketches."

"It's a mess out there. Maybe you should pursue another endeavour?" the visitor frankly suggested, leaning against the wall. "One with a market?"

"I just rented a fucking building and hired-!"

"I warned you not to do that."

"I don't give a shit, Brian! I can do this! I have talent!"

"Well then, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before it takes off," Brian replied, cynically crossing his arms. "Do you want to hear what I have to say, or not?"

"Whatever," Marcus muttered with a rude gesture that only Brian would know meant 'yes'.

"She's seeing someone."

"Who, Rachel?" Marcus' head jerked up and his jaw dropped. "How?"

Brian shrugged. "You don't pay me enough for that."

"Oh, here we go!" Marcus snarled. "I pay you plenty. I thought you said she was a fucking mouse?"

"Well, none of the actors got anywhere with her. Not far enough to nastily dump her anyway." Brian looked fed-up. "You could have saved a lot of heartbreak and money, and followed my advice. But you never do."

"And your advice was?" Marcus sneered.

"Treat her nice?" Brian shrugged.

"What, and have her step all over me on the way out?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was under the impression she left because you were an asshole?"

"Fuck you!"

"I also advised you to make amends and not stalk her like a snake."

"Pretty fucking rich coming from the person taking money to watch her! She was meant to come crawling back!"

"After crawling away from you? Do you know how childish you sound?"

Marcus made a frustrated growling noise and crushed a sheet of paper in his fist.

"You never listen to me," Brian lectured. "You're self-destructive, you know that?"

"I didn't expect to fall in love with her!" Marcus said hotly, glaring at the table in front of him. "It scared me."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Well, that's my news."

"What about the guy? Who is he?"

"Some freelance editor. Cashed up. Not like you but..."

"I told you to set her up!" Marcus shouted, slamming his palm to the table.

Brian narrowed his eyes, unperturbed. "I sent every type her way. I even threw in a fat guy, for good measure. None had luck."

"What about this guy? Is she into him?"

"Yeah. She's been holed up with him for two days..." Brian jogged his eyebrows, enjoying Marcus' discomfort. It'd been a whole year, and he was tired of tailing an innocent girl.

"Fuck you, Brian! Wait. I-Is he attractive? Better looking than me?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Get out!" Marcus screamed, throwing a paper weight. "Find out about him!"

"Fucking trust fund baby," Brian muttered, dodging the projectile on his way out.

Brian would have walked away a long time ago, but he'd worked for Marcus' parents for too many years to abandon their uselessly spoiled son to ruin himself, though he was often very tempted.

Brian had been part of Marcus' life since his birth, and when Marcus' parents passed away, they maintained a 'love-hate' relationship. Marcus considered Brian family, even if he treated him like a servant. Often surrounded by people in awe of his money, Marcus liked having an honest advisor, even if he never took the advice. He subconsciously valued that Brian was a practical man and not afraid to speak his mind.

Brian had an affection for Marcus, the same way a tired janitor might develop an attachment to a feral rat lurking in the closets he cleaned.

After coping with hordes of bimbos, Brian was genuinely impressed with Rachel. She wasn't the usual diva making his life hell and panting after Marcus' money. Brian and Rachel often found themselves in the same room, pathetically hiding to avoid socialising with the try-hard types at Marcus' parties. Those quiet moments were a relief for them both, until they were discovered by Marcus and forced out to mingle.

Brian particularly despised watching Marcus stupidly sabotage his relationship with Rachel; unnecessarily alienating her in a 'be mean, to keep her keen' tactic that would only work on a girl after money. But Rachel was a breath of fresh air, and definitely not a gold-digger. Brian never understood why she ever lowered her standards to date Marcus.

When she left, Brian was happy for her. He was glad to see she'd moved on with her life, and relieved she'd deflected all the come-on attempts he orchestrated. Now, he was potentially about to interfere with her newfound happiness, and Brian began to wonder how far Marcus would push his loyalty before his conscience intervened.

*******

Lying on her side, Rachel slowly roused to gentle, relaxing music. A lazy, rhythmic drumbeat. As the sleepiness in her mind slowly receded, she registered the clear voice of a familiar song.

Nights in white satin...

"Hey, sleepyhead." Ben's weight added to the bed, and he nudged Rachel onto her back so he could settle on top of her and bury his face in her neck.

"What time is it?" she murmured drowsily, but his hand crept up her face to playfully press a finger across her lips.

"Shh."

"What?"

"This is my favourite song. Let it speak to you."

Beauty I'd always missed...

With these eyes before...

"Hmm," Rachel frowned, restlessly wriggling beneath his weight. "That's a big call. Most favourite song ever?"

"Today it is. Just listen."

'Cause I love you...

Yes, I love you...

Oh, how I love yoooooou...

Rachel was suddenly wide awake, and distinctly uncomfortable. Was she in the midst of a terrible misunderstanding, or was Ben trying to say he loved her?