The Watcher Read online

After she made sure Ryan was asleep and got ready for bed, I sat down in her reading chair and waited. She pulled out the business card and I watched her face fall. No, no, no! She thought it was a joke. I had only put my number on it, wanting to keep the mystery that had built today. I gave her a mental nudge to try texting me. Thank fuck it worked. She pulled out her phone and shot me a quick text.

  A simple Made it home ok appeared on my screen. She was so shy, and I loved every second of it. I pushed it a little with my text, hoping to make her smile.

  Took you long enough I typed back. I wanted her to know I missed her already. Even though I was right next to her, it wasn’t the same as her knowing I was there. I’d only gotten a small dose of her seeing me, but I was already an addict. Her grin lit up the entire room. She texted me back, thanking me for saving her life and I sent her a simple You’re welcome. I was hoping she’d flirt back, give me some of that sass I knew was in her.

  She just sat there staring at the screen until it went dark, so I asked her if she’d fallen asleep. She giggled and admitted she didn’t want to embarrass herself any more tonight. How fucking adorable. I reassured her that I couldn’t see her. Yeah, I’m a shameless liar too. She giggled nervously once more and told me she didn’t know my name. I watched that horrible doubt come back over her face and fisted my hands at my sides as I stood up. Ryan was so close I could hear him snore and that made it harder to not go into the living room and strangle the shit out of him for hurting her.

  I texted her back You will. I fully intended to see her in the very near future and introduce myself properly.

  Oh, and Lily?

  Yeah?

  I find you to be stunning as well I typed and watched her face light up once more. I wanted to find more ways to bring that look back. I watched her snuggle under her covers and hug her pillow. At the risk of sounding like that teenaged girl again, I secretly hoped she was picturing snuggling with me.

  *****

  Gabriel

  As much as I wanted to crawl into bed with her and comfort her through the night, I forced myself to go home. I knew she’d hit up Starbucks the next day, so I’d get up early and head over. Now that I’d gotten a taste of what it felt like to have her smile at me, I wanted more. Thinking about the way she smelled, the way she felt pressed up against me on the dance floor, the intense stare she had while studying me, it was clouding my mind to the point where I couldn’t focus on anything else. I needed a cold shower or I swear my dick would have exploded.

  Walking into my apartment, I readjusted myself in my jeans and headed to grab a beer. I turned on the TV as a distraction. Her beautiful hazel eyes popped into my head and I couldn’t help but think of the way she moved on the dance floor. Her body had curves in all the right places and the way she moved to the music was almost as if she were making love to it. When she had removed that leather jacket, she had taken her time. I knew she could feel my eyes on her. It was like she had given me my own little strip tease. Then I saw the lace bra through her shirt and almost came right there. She was so fucking sexy and she had absolutely no idea.

  Thinking about that lace bra, I realized no cold shower was going to help. Stripping out of my clothes, I headed towards the shower. As I waited for the water to heat up, I closed my eyes and wrapped my hand around my dick. Slowly, I stroked myself, imagining it was her small hand jerking me. Her hands were so soft and I bet they’d feel like heaven. What the fuck was this woman doing to me? I rarely jerked off, as I liked to practice self-control in almost all areas of my life. But just the thought of that bra had gotten me so hard it was painful.

  I stepped into the spray and let the water run down my body. I worked out on a regular basis, so my arms and back were pretty defined, but I had a love of fine and greasy foods, so my stomach wasn’t as toned as I’d have liked. It was solid, not flabby, don’t get me wrong, but I wasn’t winning any body building contests anytime soon. I put some conditioner in my hand and resumed my stroking. Leaning my head against the shower wall, I closed my eyes once more and pictured Lily’s soft hands gliding up and down my dick. What would her pretty little mouth feel like? Would she be able to fit me in her mouth? I was large enough that I had to wear a magnum condom, so I had encountered that problem with women before. Just thinking about her mouth made me cum hard. I continued to stroke, working out every last tremor of pleasure that I could.

  After washing myself thoroughly and drying off, I headed to bed. I couldn’t wait to see her in the morning, make her smile, and make her blush. Maybe I’d invite her to come to the club on Friday to hear me sing. I had chosen a few songs just for her. I knew she was a married woman, but at this point, I didn’t fucking care. She was miserable. Maybe if I showed her I could make her happy, she’d leave the son of a bitch. I’d felt her wedding rings last night...and she knew it. I saw the guilt flit across her face when I held her hand. Guilt I hoped I could erase.

  She deserved so much more. Lily had a beautiful heart, I had learned. She helped everyone who was in need around her. She always stopped what she was doing to help an animal who was lost or injured. She volunteered with cats that needed love and attention while they waited to be adopted on a regular basis. She always made sure Ryan had clean clothes, a sack lunch, and a protein shake. Even to this day, she’d make sure he was taken care of and had everything he needed. It was just second nature to her. As selfish as it sounded, I wanted to make her mine. I knew I would take much better care of her than Ryan ever had. I’d watched their entire marriage for the last two years and not once had that man truly grasped the treasure he had in her.

  I had made it my mission to show her just what she was worth. I knew I had to take my time and work my way under her skin. She was fiercely loyal to those she cared about and would never intentionally hurt anyone. I only hoped that by taking my time it would give her the time to make the decision to leave him on her own. However, with Ryan behaving the way he had been, I feared he was going to make that choice for her. I’d bet my entire worth on it that he was fucking someone else. Sooner or later the truth would come out. Damn it all I wanted to be the one to help Lily pick up the pieces, starting at Starbucks in the morning. This time I would make her talk to me, and I’d begin the journey of working my way under her skin until she could no longer stay away from me

  Chapter Six

  *****

  Lily

  I woke up before dawn the next day. I was off work, having taken a personal day after finals to have some time to regroup. Working 40+ hours a week and going to school full time really drained me. I had planned on running errands and doing laundry and catching up on all my normal chores. I looked around and noticed that Ryan hadn’t come to bed. I was relieved. I didn’t want to deal with wondering if I should try to snuggle with him or not, especially because most mornings he didn’t even acknowledge me when I did try to cuddle. I’m pretty sure he pretended to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to touch me.

  I could tell it was one of those days where I wanted to be by myself and dream about a life that was waiting beyond the rainbow. Maybe now was a good time to have a heart to heart with myself about my marriage. Could I really stay married to a guy who talked to me the way he did? Who thought I was fat? Shouldn’t he love me no matter what? I remembered talking to him about love not too long ago and how marriage required unconditional love. He said he didn’t believe in unconditional love and that I was stupid if I did. The more our most recent conversations came back to me, the more I realized this wasn’t working.

  I jumped into the shower and quickly washed and rinsed then threw on my less ratty yoga pants and a hoodie and headed out for coffee. I grabbed my Kindle and my journal, just in case the urge to write hit me. It hadn’t hit me in months, maybe longer. I had no drive, no muse, nothing. I used to write all the time. I filled journals with poetry and random trains of thought. Now, I could barely construct a complete sentence for my papers or work assignments. I’d lost my writer’s mojo. I briefly wondered if my
writing mojo was tied to my sexual mojo and smiled to myself, shaking my head. All my mojos had left the building it would seem.

  I pulled into Starbucks a little after 7 a.m. and they were in full swing of the pre-workday madness. I got in line and waited. I pulled out my phone and began to scroll through my messages. Emma had texted me to make sure I had gotten home O.K. and I sent her a quick message letting her know I had a story for her. I added a winky face so she wouldn’t worry. I ordered my two shots over ice, three pumps of pumpkin, and room for cream and stepped to the side to wait. My phone beeped and I was surprised that Emma was up this early. I pulled out my phone and was shocked to see “Hoodie” on my screen. That was the name I had given him, since he hadn’t told me his real name yet.

  Scone?

  Um, what?

  Would you like a scone with your poor man’s latte?

  My head popped up and I scanned the crowd for his hoodie. I spotted a black hoodie with the Wicked logo on the back standing in line. It was on a very tall man with dark curly hair. Oh my…he was here. I turned away before he could catch me staring.

  How do you know my drink order? Are you stalking me? I typed with a small smile on my face.

  Some might call it stalking. I prefer admiring from afar.

  I snorted and typed I’d love one.

  What, a stalker?

  Ha-ha, no, a scone, pumpkin if they have it.

  As you wish.

  As you wish? Was this guy for real? Is it possible for a man to like MB20, Bush AND the Princess Bride? I spotted a table tucked into the back corner and grabbed it. I sat down, playing with my straw and hanging my head over my phone. I was still afraid to look up, afraid of the telltale blush that would give my nervousness away.

  A scone slid across the table, and I glimpsed the black nail polish. It was chipped, his fingernails had grease under them, and his fingers were long and beautiful. I slowly raised my head, willing my face to stay a natural color and found myself greeted by those haunting green eyes. He had that smirk on his face again, one corner of his mouth raised up, and that dimple proudly on display.

  “Hi,” he said quietly.

  “Good morning,” I responded, “thank you for the scone.” There. That was affable and to the point, nothing worth blushing over.

  “You’re welcome, Lily Maracle.” God, the way he said my full name made my heart skip a beat and awoke a spark inside me that I had long since forgotten. That was enough to turn my face red. I tried to lighten up the conversation, reverting back to the jokiness I used in uncomfortable situations.

  “I guess it would have been more polite to say thank you, stalker, huh? Since we’re on a first-name basis and all.”

  He laughed a full on, loud throaty laugh. He threw his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and I couldn’t stop staring at his porcelain skin. Wow, just wow. Never had a man’s laugh sounded so beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. Down to the chipped black nail polish. I tried not to stare at his throat and imagine things that would stir sparks.

  “I deserved that,” he said. He stuck his hand out for me to shake. I took it apprehensively and he said, “My name is Gabriel.” Before I could pull my hand away, he held it a bit tighter and studied it quietly. “You have beautiful hands Lily, like those of a piano player.”

  I blushed again…I really need to work on this red face thing. “Thank you. My mother used to say the same thing. I’ve never played the piano, though. I played a fake organ when I was younger. Well, not fake, it was electric and small and in my grandma’s basement, but I was terrible at it. I did play the violin for a few years in school when I was young, but had to quit when we moved again,” I stopped suddenly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m rambling, sorry. I do that when I’m nervous.”

  “I rather enjoyed it,” he said, “Never apologize for telling me about yourself. Why are you nervous?”

  “Oh, ummm,” I stuttered. No one had ever wanted to know more about me before. I don’t even think Ryan knew my mother had studied my hands when I was younger, calling them pianist hands.

  “I know nothing about you,” I said, “But here I am blabbing on about my childhood, which I’m sure is boring for you,” I nervously laughed.

  He took the seat across from me and took the lid off his coffee to let it cool. “What else?”

  “Hmm?” I said as I took a big gulp of my coffee, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “What else, Lily? Tell me everything.” He took a sip of his coffee and stared at me over the top of the cup.

  “Um, everything? I think we need more than just a few minutes at a coffee shop for that,” I laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m 35, I’ve lived a bit.”

  Jeez, did I just tell him my age? I had no idea how old he was, but he looked a lot younger than me, save the slight dusting of gray on his temples and in his facial hair. I was guessing maybe 26 or 27 -- just young enough so that we probably have nothing in common. Well, except for music.

  He looked at me and said, “Wow I would have guessed 26 or 27.”

  “Oh ha ha very funny,” I said, “I bet that’s how old you are right?”

  “Nope, guess again.”

  “Ok fine, make me feel worse,” I laughed, “You’re really 23 or 24 aren’t you?”

  “42,” he said.

  “Yeah right!” I exclaimed as I lightly punched him on his arm, which was hard as a rock. I wondered what else he hid under that hoodie.

  “Scouts honor,” he said, “42. But seriously, thank you. My ego was in need of a good stroking.” Oh yeah, this is where all sorts of dirty thoughts of things of his needing stroking popped into my head. And yep, I blushed again.

  “Care to share?” he mused.

  “Not even a little bit,” I muttered and lowered my eyes. I had been staring again and really needed to get a hold of myself. I couldn’t do naughty jokes with this guy yet, could I? I mean, I’d known him all of five minutes.

  “Ok Gabriel, tell me something about yourself,” I said changing the subject.

  “Like what?” he asked

  “What do you do for a living?” I replied. “Your business card wasn’t very forthcoming.”

  He smiled lazily, slowly, drawing my eyes to that full mouth. “I dabble,” he said. “Cars, music, restaurants.”

  “Wow, that’s quite the resume,” I said, “What type of music? Do you play an instrument or sing?”

  “Both,” he replied. “I play guitar and sing. I usually play a 6-string, but I play bass a bit as well as electric sometimes.”

  “Do you play in public?”

  “Sometimes, why, would you like to stalk me awhile? It’s only fair,” he smirked. I blushed again, as I was thinking exactly that. This guy was a mind reader.

  “I would like to hear you play sometime,” I said trying not to smile too grandly. I didn’t want to let him know that my heart was beating quickly with excitement at the fact that I might get to see him again. “Are you playing anytime soon?”

  “This Friday, actually. I’ll be playing at The Secret Word at 10.”

  “I’m there,” I said quickly. I really need to learn to hold things in, I thought to myself.

  Why was I so excited anyway? This guy had followed me, stared at me, knew my name somehow…shouldn’t I be a little wary of him? My head said “yes,” but that little thing in my chest going thump-thump extraordinarily fast disagreed. That thump was telling me to go watch him perform, to live a little.

  “Ok then,” he smirked, “I’ll save you a seat.” He sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. His biceps were so huge that I couldn’t help but lick my lips as thoughts of those arms around me invaded my brain. “So, tell me your life story, Lily.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear it of thoughts of his arms. “My life story? As in from the beginning?” I asked incredulously.

  He laughed quietly, “Ok, maybe not your ENTIRE life story. How about just the highlights? Like, did you g
row up here? What do you do for a living? Why are you in school?”

  I smiled, thankful he hadn’t asked anything personal. “I grew up in a small town in Ohio, but moved here about two years ago. Currently I’m an administrative assistant at a mortgage firm, and I’m in school so I can quit that job and become a famous writer!”

  “You’re a writer? What types of things do you write?”

  “Um, well mostly I write in my journal, but I hope to turn it into a sort of autobiography someday. I’ve written some poetry as well, but I don’t really like it.”

  “Why?” he inquired.

  “It’s a little too romantic and girly, I think. I’ve never been able to get it published outside of school, so I know it’s not that good.”

  He shook his head and took my hand in his, “Lily, poetry comes from the heart. Nothing from the heart can be terrible, especially if you are honest with your writing.”

  “Wow,” I said quietly, “I’ve never thought of it like that before. I’m always honest in my writing, maybe a little too honest. Sometimes I don’t know if I want to be published, as everything I write is so personal to me.”

  “That,” he said, “is what makes you a great writer. Do you have anything you’d feel comfortable letting me read?” He hadn’t let go of my hand and was lightly rubbing it with his thumb. I could barely concentrate on what he was saying due to the electrical shocks that were shooting up my arm and right into my heart. His eyes had turned darker and darker the longer he held my hand and I could see something akin to longing in them. Did this dark stranger feel how much he was affecting me? Did he feel the same sparks?

  I slowly removed my hand and looked down at the table. “I actually wrote something last night after we texted. I can let you read that, if you’d like?”

  “I’d love to, Lily,” he said, his voice falling over me like hot, melted caramel. There was something so incredibly sexy about how deep and quiet his voice was. I could listen to him talk all day and all night. Of course, if I was with him all night, there wouldn’t be much talking, not with hands like his! Oh god, I needed to rein this in. I had a sneaking suspicion my sexual mojo was waking up and trying to take over the more sensible parts of my brain.