Page 3 of Voyeur

Chapter Two

Stephen

I chuckled to myself as I stepped out of my hot tub, reached for my towel and made sure to give my new neighbor a good show as I wiped down my naked body and wrapped my knee in a brace.

I had noticed her right away when I came outside. No one had been living in the rental cabin up the hill for months, and I had enjoyed my privacy during my recovery.

I’d taken a nasty spill while on my bike, doing my duties as Sergeant at Arms for the Howlers, a biker gang that controls the mountain border between California and Nevada.

My brother Jake didn’t exactly approve of my lifestyle, mostly because he was a cop. The word “gang” put him on edge, but he didn’t really understand what I did. It was mostly just a great group of guys who loved to ride, and we all got together to hang out.

But being in the gang meant you had to follow certain rules, and we had to defend our territory. My position meant I was tasked with upholding the rules of the gang, protecting our members and keeping us all safe. I thought if Jake understood what I did better, he would realize we had more in common than he thought. But Jake kept me at arm’s length, though we had a fairly cordial relationship. We were family, after all.

But the Howlers were my family, too, and they were the ones who supported me after I’d shattered my knee. The Howlers visited me in the hospital, set me up with the cabin in the mountains while I recovered, and made sure I was taken care of, just as I had protected them for years. That’s just what families did.

Of course, I could’ve recovered from home, but the Howlers seemed to want to treat me to a sort of vacation. Plus, I would be safer out here while I recovered, in case anyone wanted to come after me while I was injured. Gangs make some enemies, and you could never be too careful.

The pain was almost gone, and staying in the mountains had done wonders for my physical therapy regimen. Every day I lifted weights, and eventually even managed a little hiking, but nothing too strenuous. The doctors assured me that while I wouldn’t be running marathons any time soon, I shouldn’t have any problem getting back on a bike after I was fully recovered. I was so close to being reunited with my bike I could taste it.

After another day of physical therapy, I went out to soak in my hot tub, as was my routine. I noticed a car parked outside the cabin up the hill, which meant someone had rented it.

Nobody had stayed in the other cabin the entire time I’d been here so far. I wasn’t sure I liked the intrusion on my privacy.

I started to change my mind when I saw a tall, slender redhead hiding behind a painting easel, watching me convalesce in my hot tub.

I couldn’t get too close of a look at her, but from what I could make out, I liked what I saw. I’d always had a thing for redheads, and who doesn’t like a tall drink of water?

I guessed she liked what she saw, too, because she kept peeking at me from behind her easel. She must not have realized I could see her staring. It was actually kind of funny.

I wished I could’ve seen her face when I finally stood up, whipped off my trunks, and gave her an eyeful. I mean, if she wanted to look, I might as well give her a show, right? It’s not like I had anything else to do.

That night when I was in bed alone with my thoughts, though, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. I didn’t want to scare the poor girl, or make her feel harassed or anything, out alone in the woods like we were. Maybe she really had just been drawing or whatever—but I was pretty sure she had been watching me.

Over the next few days, I made sure the mysterious redhead wasn’t on her deck before I went out to soak in the tub. I wanted to keep things friendly and I didn’t want to intimidate her.

But I guessed I shouldn’t have worried, since I noticed that every time I came out to the tub, she came out on her deck shortly after. I didn’t pull the stunt with my trunks again—but I kept an eye on her. There was no mistaking it; she was definitely watching me.

I was flattered. Even from this distance, I could tell she was a cute, young girl, and she obviously had a thing for me since she kept going out of her way to see me half-naked.

I found more and more excuses to come outside and take off my clothes. I didn’t want to let the woman down, and it became sort of a fun little game for me. I lifted weights shirtless on my deck, my tan skin glistening with beads of sweat under the mountain sun. I drank my coffee in the morning in just my boxers outside, and beer in the evenings in just my jeans. And every single time, the redhead came outside for a peep show. It was hilarious.

I continued to pretend like I didn’t know she was there. I never acknowledged her, nor did she ever try to make contact with me. It was as if we were pretending there was a wall between us, even though we could clearly see each other. It was kind of a turn on, and I’ll admit I got hard more than once while she watched me.

After nearly a week of this game, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to see her up close, hear what her voice sounded like, and get to know her personality.

I had to meet her.

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