Voyeur Ch. 05

Thanks for reading and for the kind feedback sent so far! Hope you enjoy this one :)

***********

"Hm."

Ray was slightly disappointed when Rachel emerged from her workplace. He'd anticipated a strutting, hot model type. The kind to have her tits out in a pricey scrap of shirt that left nothing to imagination, and a skirt so short he could see what she had for breakfast if she bent over.

Despite carefully watching since the young man opened shop, Ray never saw Rachel enter. So there was a back way in. After doing some light product research, he'd called the store to inquire about a fake account and Rachel was summoned as a matter of urgency.

Scrutinizing her, Ray tilted his head. At second glance, she was rather cute. But certainly not the kind of girl to break the heart of an immature socialite. Her features were elegant, and her long, reddish hair could be strawberry blonde but it was difficult to tell. Considering her, Ray finally concluded she was fuckable. In a boring, suburban way.

Rachel walked a couple of doors down to the open window of a coffee shop. After ordering self-consciously, she stepped aside to wait. When her order was ready, the barista obviously made a joke as he handed over two coffees. Even from a distance Ray could see Rachel's face burning.

"Blusher," he calmly observed.

Stammering her thanks, Rachel clumsily backed into two people waiting behind her. Spinning to profusely apologise, she stumbled and tripped over own feet. Literally staggering before losing balance, she went down in a shower of coffee to the horror of all onlookers.

Before Ray felt it coming, a laugh ripped out of him. It took him by surprise, and lasted quite a while. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that. Still chuckling, he watched the public quickly come to Rachel's aid.

A kind elderly lady helped Rachel to her feet, while others offered napkins. The barista, for flirtation or pity, indicated he would replace the coffees now painted down the front of Rachel's pale-green shirt. It certainly was a rarely undignified moment. Ray wished he'd caught it on camera.

Fanning her chest to cope with the dose of hot liquid, Rachel declined. Ray noticed her wet, sensible shirt revealed she had rather delectable breasts, a fact several other men were also appreciating. Ray suspected she concealed a hot body beneath conservative clothes.

His wide grin faded to something more wary as a silver car pulled to the curb. A tall, good-looking man with dark hair quickly got out, clearly laughing at Rachel as she gestured miserably to the scene she'd caused. Fortunately for her, the blushing flattered her complexion. Rachel's face glowed so red, Ray found himself imagining the heat it would emit against his palm if he cupped her cheek.

The newcomer consolingly gathered Rachel into his arms, not caring about her saturated shirt. The barista eyed them disapprovingly, before stiffly returning to serve customers.

The boyfriend laughingly kissed all over Rachel's flustered face, which was epically mortified as witnesses cheered them on. Then he smilingly guided her to his car as though she were handicapped. Opening the door, his face beamed adoration as she gratefully disappeared from public view.

As the car took off, and Ray waited a short moment before starting his engine to follow. Despite the light-hearted moment, Ray knew Rachel's new boyfriend was not a soft guy. He moved with a unique agility that spoke more than fitness - he was a fighter. Ray wondered what kind of sport he engaged in. It triggered his curiosity. But not half as much as Rachel did.

*******

"I hate lukewarm coffee, but that was fucking lucky. You could have been seriously burned," Ben frowned over the wheel. "Are you sure you're ok?"

Rachel nodded, sitting stiff as a statue.

Noticing her discomfit from the corner of his eye, Ben smiled. "Relax, Rae."

"I'm covered in coffee!" she shrilly replied. "Your car-!"

"I don't care. I only need this thing to get me from point A to B," he said offhandedly.

Looking around the glossy interior, Rachel didn't believe him. Before she could push the point, she fell silent as Ben parked.

"What?" he answered her questioning stare, clicking his belt undone. "They do good coffee here."

"Oh." Rachel cringed, remembering why they had none. "Can...can I wait here?"

"Nope," Ben grinned.

When they reached the shop entrance, Ben reached around her to open the door and usher her in before she could retreat. Rachel kept her head down as Ben led her to a free table. He laughed at her dejected expression, and bent to kiss her cheek.

"Cheer up, baby bunny."

"Everyone's looking at me," she complained wretchedly.

"Because you're acting weird. Come on, Rae, don't make me look like a bad guy."

"Huh?" she peeked up at his exasperated face.

"Give me a smile!" he insisted, sighing with exaggerated relief when she tremulously complied. "That's better. I'm going to order. If you run, I'll be forced to embarrass us both."

Given Rachel tried to evade him twice, and once succeeded, Ben felt compelled to add a warning statement whenever they separated.

Rachel kept her head down, discreetly fixing her eyes on the table surface as Ben walked off. A few minutes later, she lifted her gaze to clash with the direct stare of a man standing outside the store. Of course her paranoia was playing up again, because after blinking once, he was clearly reading a poster pinned across one of the windows.

Tall and broad-shouldered like Ben, he reminded Rachel of those friendly neighbourhood men always halting traffic for unruly children chasing soccer balls, or rushing to help old ladies with shopping. His hair was a light ash-brown, his features mildly attractive. Ben was much better looking, she decided.

"And I hoped you only had eyes for me," Ben wryly interrupted her musing, taking the seat beside her.

"Oh! I didn't..!" Rachel exclaimed, blushing guiltily. "I mean, it wasn't..." When her eyes nervously returned to the window, the man was gone. Ben sighed theatrically.

"I suppose I can tolerate you perving on other men, so long as you don't touch," he said lightly, though his dark eyes narrowed ominously at her.

"T-Thank you," Rachel said, looking appalled as Ben's eyebrows indignantly lifted. "I meant for the coffee!"

"Well, that's a relief," he replied, his fingers extending around his cup to brush hers. "So what happened at work?"

"Oh, I don't know." Remembering Steve and Meredith's confusion, Rachel's brow contracted at the unsolved mystery. "Steve said they got a call-"

"Ben? What a small world!"

Ben and Rachel looked up to the blonde woman paused by their table. Confronted by a conquest he couldn't recollect, Ben wished the world was bigger.

The girl was exceptionally girlish, with glittering gold chains bunched about her neck, and too many silver bracelets to be practical. It was almost unbelievable they didn't hear her jangling approach.

"Hi...?" Ben smiled politely, and questioningly raised his eyebrows.

"Monica," the girl laughed convincingly, and few would be able to tell it was forced. "It's been a while. I lost your number." She looked Rachel up and down, and her smile became fixed. "Is this your sister?"

What a bitch. Ben's arm tightened around Rachel. She was squirming, and Ben knew she'd excuse herself first chance she got. But she wasn't getting that chance. Ben also knew there was no way in hell he would have given a girl like Monica his number.

"This is Rachel, my girlfriend."

"Oh, how embarrassing. I'm so sorry," Monica gushed without remorse. Her eyes mockingly lingered on the unpalatable brown stains coating Rachel's shirt. "I didn't realise. Anyway, Ben, I recall you're in the editing sphere? I might have-"

"I have to stop you there, Monica." Ben was still smiling, but Rachel was slightly unnerved by the cold edge to his voice. "I'm not taking work at the moment."

Monica's face fell but she took the rejection with good grace, and searched her handbag. "Can't blame a girl for trying, after the time we had. If you change your mind..."

Monica carelessly dropped a business card to the table with a winning smile, which soured as she looked to Rachel, her eyes again settled on her ruined shirt. "Nice to meet you, Rochelle."

"Christ, I dodged a bullet there," Ben muttered, encircling Rachel in his arms and burying his face in her neck. Not caring they were in public, he sensually kissed up her jaw and tried to capture her mouth, but Rachel quickly dodged him.

"People are looking!" she protested in a scandalized whisper, hoping this wasn't going to become one of many occurrences whilst dating Ben. Her day seemed to be descending into one nightmare social incident after another.

"You rescued me from an unwanted come-on. That's always worth celebrating," Ben joked. He idly picked up the little gold-bordered card to see if it triggered his memory.

Glancing over the business name, he remembered meeting Monica roughly two years ago at an event Blake practically blackmailed him into attending. At the time, he figured he might as well make something of the night. They'd drunkenly fucked in the cloakroom during the awards hour, and he'd wisely deflected all attempts to initiate a relationship immediately after.

Noticing Rachel's traumatized expression, he took pity, figuring she'd endured enough for the morning. "Ok, let's go. I can't exactly strip you naked here anyway."

********

Back behind the safety of tinted windows, Ray frowned at the wheel as his mind pondered what just happened. Of all the moments Rachel looked up from the table, it was when he arrived at the window to pick their location. For one second she stared right at him.

Ray sighed irritably. He should have stayed in the car. It was out of character to draw that close, and completely unnecessary. He was particularly unprepared for the feelings that surfaced when Rachel returned his stare. That brief moment of her attention made his heart skip a beat.

The last time he'd done surveillance on a woman was about three years ago; a gang member's wife. Ray's upper lip was perpetually curled with disdain as he'd tailed her from clothing stores, to beauty parlours, to fancy restaurants and other places that reeked of money and bored him to tears. After less than two days, he was itching to murder her.

But Rachel was a civilian. Though quite dull at first appearance, she was becoming increasingly interesting the more Ray watched her. Maybe it was her down-to-Earth, awkward nature that was somehow both entertaining and endearing. Maybe it was the fact she didn't shamelessly flaunt her bodily assets and kept them mysteriously hidden.

Maybe it was the way she looked at him; her wide-eyed stare without any snooty ego or expectation of being worshipped. With an attractive complexion, she had nothing to hide beneath layers of powder and tinted creams. Her pale pink mouth was classically shaped, and Ray wondered how it would feel to kiss those full lips, and whether she would taste sweet...

"Whoa. What the fuck?" he muttered, shaking his head at the unusual line of thought that made him slightly giddy.

Ray was not romantically inclined, and quite startled to be thinking these things about a girl hardly worth his attention. In that moment Ray decided he was done with the stalking experiment. He was going to piss off and get laid.

Hours later, he sauntered into a nice restaurant and sat at the bar. His outfit was sharp and flattering; a soft, white shirt beneath a light-brown blazer. But only the women who chanced to meet his eyes gave him a second glance. He quite enjoyed the challenge of seducing a woman randomly picked out from the public, and his success rate was quite impressive. Upon entry, he'd already picked out two targets, and both happened to be brunette.

Ordering a cider, he discreetly observed his choices. One had a date which he discerned was nothing serious. The other was with girlfriends, and Ray decided she would do. Though he adored the chase and subsequent victory, on this occasion he was rather worked up. Not in the mood for too much of a challenge.

The chosen girl wore a beautiful, full-length blue dress, and oozed sophistication. Her face was very striking, with perfect cheekbones enhanced with blush and bronzer. She had large, sparkling black eyes and her long, dark hair was carefully arranged into an impressive French plait. Her bright red lip-sticked mouth was full and wide, with the kind of glorious big smile you'd see in a toothpaste commercial. Ray found himself comparing it to Rachel's pink pout, and wishing the woman's mouth wasn't so wide.

The brunette had an air of confidence that told him she was very successful, or at least very satisfied with her life. Highly sexed, independent and ready to tussle. She was Ray's kind of girl. Vastly different to the bashfully uncertain one he'd surveyed earlier...

Shaking his head angrily, Ray downed his cider and ordered another. Half an hour later, the woman excused herself to go to the bathroom. Ray immediately followed. He patiently waited in the hallway, holding his phone to his ear, frowning intently as though listening to an important voicemail.

When she emerged, Ray didn't look at her, but strode forward to the men's bathroom and expertly stepped on the back hem of her dress. Not enough to tear the skirt free, but enough to stop her.

"Oh no! Oh, my God, no!" she gasped with dismay, feeling sections of the fine garment rend across her hip.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" Ray exclaimed, bending to inspect the damage.

"It...It's fine," she said wretchedly, quite distracted as her fingers worriedly felt along the seams.

Ray shook his head, lightly touching the fabric. "This is a beautiful dress. My sister has the same one. I'll replace it."

"No, don't be silly," the girl smiled weakly, still looking heartbroken.

Ray straightened and grinned down at her. Though she was very tall for a woman, Ray was still a head taller when he stood to full height.

"Um..." The girl was lost for words, wondering why she hadn't noticed this hunk in the main area.

His features were classically symmetrical, but his hazel eyes were fascinating as they intently watched her. His smile was remarkably sexy. Waiting expectantly for him to hit on her, or at least use the dress as an excuse to get her number, she was stunned speechless when Ray pulled out his wallet.

"Here," he said, pushing cash into her hand. "I know the cost of these things. I hope I haven't ruined your evening."

"Uh-" the girl gaped at the wad of money, then back to his face. Ray again favoured her with the charming smile and disappeared into the men's room without a backward glance.

Minutes later, Ray sauntered into the main area, knowing the group of girls would be waiting to observe him. This was the moment he'd know if she was hooked. Going by history, 80% of them took the bait. It wasn't a preconceived tactic - he acted on instinct according to how his target reacted to him.

Some responded to flattery, others rude disregard. He gauged this one required a mix that would keep her guessing. Ray enjoyed these secret wagers; he didn't care about the cash. His money was better spent gambling on a sexual encounter, than a sure-thing prostitute.

Ray immediately noted his target was flushed and talking quite rapidly, casting interested looks his way. Appearing oblivious to the attention, he returned to the bar.

An hour later, she tapped his shoulder. Ray turned, with a perfect expression of surprised inquiry.

"Um," she blushed, putting the cash on the counter. "Thanks, but I don't need this."

"Why? Is the dress insured?" Ray smiled, and the girl laughed.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Paul," he answered, and casually sipped his cider with no inclination of returning the question.

"Well, I-I'm Tasha," she introduced herself uncertainly, confused about his interest in her.

"Lovely to meet you, Tasha," Ray grinned engagingly, and knew her heart fluttered. It was time to reel her in.

"I was going to send you an apology cocktail," he said, slightly twisting in his chair. The innocent move allowed his blazer to casually drift open and display his solid build. "But I didn't want to look like a creep."

Speechlessly admiring his wide chest, Tasha pulled herself together and threw back her head to laugh. Watching the flirtatious gesture, a vision of kissing Rachel intruded in Ray's mind.

"I'm glad you didn't. I would prefer to drink it with you."

"Very well." Ray signalled the bartender.

"So, tell me, Paul," Tasha batted her lashes. "How did you know the dress cost $800?"

"I didn't. I just knew anything less would offend that body," Ray answered, his eyes flickering to the hem of her gown and back to her face.

Tasha sniffed with mild contempt, but Ray knew she liked his answer. The truth was, he did know the exact cost of her dress. He'd had to buy a very similar one to dress a body before sending it over a cliff in a car.

Less than an hour later, they were in Ray's hotel room, fucking like animals on heat.

Lip-stick smeared mouth wide open, Tasha was naked on all fours, trying to keep her balance as Ray slammed into her from behind. One of his hands gripped her waist, the other tangled in her hair.

"Oh!" Tasha gasped, as Ray tugged her up against him without pausing tempo. Keeping a fist in her hair, his other arm circled her waist so they were body to body, her back flush against his bare chest. Occasionally his hand pinched and pulled her nipples.

"Uh, Paul!" she panted, wincing slightly and very surprised by his forceful nature in bed.

Tasha couldn't know this wasn't his usual style, that he was fiercely working to drive another girl from his mind. Ray was normally a paced lover, and liked to create a chemistry that would stroke his ego later. A build-up of passion that would lead to his conquest loudly orgasming on his cock and purring in his arms in the aftermath.

But tonight, he was on a mission. He wouldn't have needed to get laid at all, if it weren't for that damn suburban girl. He could have relaxed in his hotel with a book, or enjoyed a quiet dinner on the balcony. But he was driven to hunt, and he was going to make the necessity worth his while.

Breathing heavily, Ray released his hold in Tasha's hair and briskly pushed her, pressing forward so she was forced down. Stepping up to rest his thigh against her waist, his grinned wickedly at her submissive position, and immediately resumed thrusting at a deeper angle. He reached under to trace her pussy lips, to feel them open wide to accommodate his girth as he pounded her.

Face and chest squashed into the soft mattress, Tasha gasped as Ray's thick length ploughed into her mercilessly. The moment the door closed behind them, he was all business - stripping her naked and hungrily kissing her. At the time, she'd been flattered and excited he was so desperate to fuck. Being manhandled by the stranger was incredibly hot; he was hung and had a body to die for. But she wasn't used to being fucked relentlessly though the night like a porn star.

Tasha's enjoyment hardly mattered to Ray. From night through to morning, he managed to come four times, with minor rests in-between to swap for a new condom, or when Tasha begged for water or lubricant.

As light spread throughout the suite, Tasha tiredly stirred. With his arm around her, Ray was still wide awake, watching the ceiling.

"Wow, Paul," she sighed, wearily crawling to the bed's edge and gingerly sitting up. "That was really intense!"

One edge of Ray's mouth turned up slightly, but he otherwise ignored her. After a slight pause, Tasha shrugged and went to shower.