She doesn’t belong with anyone else.
I swallow, hard. I can’t think this way, I shouldn’t think this way, but it’s kicking and screaming and tearing my insides.
There’s only one person Lexie belongs with.
The fucker’s mouth is at her neck and blinding red ravishes my vision. Stop watching! Why does he get to know how those lips taste? How smooth her skin is? He hasn’t earned the right. He can’t possibly know how special she is. How perfect. No one can. Not the way I do. My heartbeat slams against my chest.
My knuckles turn white. Drop the goddamn camera. His meaty, disgusting hands rub down that smooth, freckled skin and I swear to God I’m going to bolt over there, break down the fucking door, and destroy the man who’s in my way.
She reaches behind her like she’s going to unzip her dress, and my cock grows hard. But instead, she drops her hands, slides off the mantle, and turns around. My breath hitches, sharp and loud.
Slowly, she lifts her hands to close the blinds, but before she does, she pauses, and I swear to Christ, she’s looking right at me. There’s no way she knows I’m here, right? I’ve been so careful. All these months… she can’t know. My chaotic mind scrambles. I’m thinking too much and seeing too much and she can’t fucking know I’m here.
Jesus Christ. Could she, though?
A smirk crosses her lips. A moment passes, then another, where I’m sure she’s looking directly at me. I stop breathing. I wait. I sweat.
And then, she raises her middle finger.
What in the absolute fuck? My heartbeat slams in my chest. I think she knows. She snaps closed the blinds, and everything goes dark. My brain works overtime, conjuring mental images of what he’s doing to my fucking Lexie.
My cock rages in my jeans and I adjust, trying to relieve the pressure. Is he sucking on those gorgeous tits? I want them in my mouth. I want to pinch those hard nipples until she screams and begs for more. I want to suck and squeeze and tug and fuck, fuck… what is he doing? He probably doesn’t know how to touch her. Is he pawing and squeezing like she’s a goddam doll? I bet he’s not listening to her body, not touching her right.
He doesn’t deserve her.
Would he be kneeling in front of her by now? Does he have that beautiful cunt in his mouth? Drop the camera. I can’t see anything, but I’m still looking, begging for a visual insight into what’s happening. I hate myself for acting so desperate, but she does this to me. The power she holds… it’s too much. It consumes me, drowns me, and she needs to release me.
Please, please walk away. But I can’t rip away my gaze. This is too far, but I can’t stop.
I fucking hate being needy.
I unzip, take out my raging cock, and start stroking. “Fuck.”
How dare she do this? I bet she’s reaching under her skirt right now and shimming out of her panties. I slide my fist from base to tip. Fabric is probably tossed to the side, she’s tugging up her skirt past her hips, maybe planting her palms on the desk. I bet that prick takes one look at her beautiful ass and that waiting pink pussy, and doesn’t know what the fuck to do. My pulse thunders through my body. I’m going to punch the fucking window. A white electric raging heat courses through me, jolting acid up from my stomach to my throat.
I’m palming my cock, pulling hard and furious. This is it. I’ve crossed the line. I need to drop the camera and walk away. Its sick and I don’t want to think about my Lexie getting fucked by anyone. Is he gripping her hips, and pushing into her? Goddammit. Are her tits bouncing, her face stern and concentrated, her body jolting? My cock swells in my hand, the veins harden in my palm. I stroke faster as a sickly heat snakes through me. Is her grip tight on the desk, as she takes his vile, vicious cock? My Lexie, my fucking pussy. I’m going to tear off his limbs.
I stroke, faster, faster, faster. He’s pounding into her, over and over, and there’s nothing I can do. My balls tighten and I jerk and lurch forward. Hot thick ropes of shameful cum shoot out onto the curtains, a disgusting line that drips onto the floor.
This is what she’s done to me. I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
I refuse to see her with anyone else. I just need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about it.
A horrible, traitorous thought comes to mind.
Maybe I should start by being honest.
26 Theo
When Lexie texted me early Friday morning wondering if I wanted to meet for coffee on Saturday to review designs, I couldn’t even respond. Visions of her, and whoever she was with, and my wedding, and fucking feelings, trapped in my brain and I couldn’t. I read the message twenty, thirty times before finally messaging her back after my last patient of the day that I was busy.
I wasn’t.
I spent all of Friday night watching her closed-blinds apartment for hours until I finally drifted off to sleep. Saturday, I did the same goddamn thing.
But now it’s Sunday morning, and I’ve done nothing but stare out the window, praying for a flicker of motion, and the most I’ve gotten is shadows of movement behind the blinds.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand and my heart leaps. Every fucking time, it skyrockets, and every time I grab it, my heart plummets when it’s not her. But this time, it skyrockets for the wrong reason.