Page 2 of Voyeur

But who knew how many people had saved the videos to their own files?

The total and complete violation of my trust, my privacy, and my body left me shattered.

Even though what Ben had done was a serious crime, he was slippery, and the police hadn’t been able to make an arrest. But he still terrorized me by randomly showing up everywhere I went, and he had even broken into my apartment.

I’d had no choice but to move here, where he couldn’t find me.

My hope was that he would stop looking for me, or that he would get arrested and thrown in jail so I could go back to school and get on with my life.

But for now, I would just try to enjoy my time in the mountains and use the breathtaking scenery, the stillness, and the quiet for inspiration.

Right now, I had time—lots of it—and I was going to make the most of it.

I took my paints, a sketchpad, and a standing easel out to the little balcony. I wished I had my small antique travel easel, which was another thing Ben had taken from me.

The little house was almost completely secluded, with just one other cabin down a short walk down the hill. I had a perfect view of the other cabin, which had an amazing hot tub built right into the deck. I wondered if I should make friends with the neighbors just to use that tub, or if they, like me, were seeking privacy out here in the wilderness.

Then I noticed that the water in the hot tub was bubbling—it was turned on, which meant somebody must be home.

Before I could angle my easel in a different way to give the neighbors some privacy, a total hunk of a man came out the back door of the cabin, wearing just a skimpy towel wrapped around his waist.

I couldn’t look away.

He was tall and broad, with smooth, tanned skin and seriously impressive muscles. The last guy I had seen shirtless in person was Ben, who was pretty average all around—pale and skinny-fat; soft from not working out, but still blessed with his 26-year-old metabolism that kept him from gaining weight. With his mousy brown hair and dull brown eyes (which I’m sure at the beginning of our relationship I would have described as “deep and woodsy” instead, but it was hard to see anything about him as beautiful after what he’d done), Ben had nothing on this massive specimen with a shock of shaggy, white-blond hair.

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, my nipples hardening as the hottie removed his towel to reveal swim trunks. I watched as he lowered himself into the water, starting with his thick calves, to his muscular thighs, all the way up to his chiseled abs. He might have been the one in the hot tub, but I was the one who was sweating.

Our cabins were far enough apart that he probably couldn’t hear me unless I shouted. I could clearly see his body, but he was too far away for me to make out his face. He still hadn’t noticed me, so I decided to sit back and enjoy the view. I didn’t want his first impression of me to be gawking at him, but hey, it wasn’t my fault we were both enjoying our decks at the same time.

I propped up my easel, which I could conveniently hide behind in case the hunk ever decided to look up my way. I started sketching the mountains, but honestly, I was doing a lot more ogling than sketching.

As the sun started to set, the stranger moved to get out of the water. He stood and turned so his back was facing me. With one swift motion, he lowered his trunks, then started toweling himself down and wrapping one leg in some sort of bandage.

He must not have had any idea I was there watching him. I couldn’t let him spot me now. Mortified, I grabbed my sketchbook and scurried back inside my cabin.

So much for first impressions.

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