Page 12 of Voyeur

“Do you make a habit of checking on all new Stanner employees, sir?” she asks.

My eyes find their way back to hers, reluctantly. “No, I mean…Of course, I want every employee to fit in and love their job.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she counters. “I asked if you make a habit of checking on all your new employees. Or is it something you reserve for the pretty ones?” She smirks, and I swallow, feeling like a drooling mutt. I produce an overabundance of saliva around her.

It’s those curves…

I open my mouth, at a loss for words, as I move closer to her. I see her fidget ever so slightly.

It’s all an act.

The fact that she knows how fucking beautiful she is turns me on even more, but I know now it’s all a front. I’ve heard about girls like her. Introverts who’ve learned to mask themselves to be like the rest of us. She knows what is societally expected of her, so she gives it.

I can’t help but wonder what’s underneath. If I were to peel back the layers surrounding Carina Eder, what would I find?

Before I realize it, I’m directly in front of her, looming from above, and her hands have dropped to grip the edge of the desk. It’s a tell. One that says, ‘back the fuck off, I’m uncomfortable’.

I know what I should do. There’s always a right and a wrong in a situation. It’s not what I do, however. Instead of using my common sense and giving her space, I lean in, breath fanning across her face as she tips her head backward to maintain eye contact.

“No, Ms. Eder, I don’t check on all new employees.” I admit, like a sinner caught red-handed.

She swallows, and my eyes track the movement of her throat. “Then… then why are you here, checking on me?” she asks.

“I don’t know, Ms. Eder. I don’t know.”

This admission takes her aback. She only lets the slight surprise trek across her features for a millisecond, but I catch it because I’m tracking every movement of her face like a fucking hunter with prey in his sights.

“Maybe—” she starts, breaths coming in shallow waves. “Maybe you should go, Mr. Stanner. This doesn’t feel…”

I cut her off, leaning closer. My heart is running away, thumping so I can barely think. “Doesn’t feel what?” I whisper.

“It doesn’t feel appropriate,” she finishes, drenching me in the icy feel of her words.

I pull away, stepping back abruptly and taking her in. Her body is flushed. Blotches litter her exposed chest. Her lips are parted, expelling the light pants of a woman aroused. Her hands are white knuckling the edge of her desk as she presses her luscious thighs together, causing me to lick my lips in wonder of what succulent treasure she hides between them.

“It doesn’t feel appropriate at all, Ms. Eder. You’re right. Nothing feels appropriate when I’m near you. But it feels…” I don’t let the thought finish. I scrub my hand over my face, turning toward the door.

I can’t leave. My cock is standing at attention, rigid as a fucking board. If someone sees me coming out of her office in such a manner, it’ll raise many fucking red flags. Though, I am a walking red flag myself.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

I turn swiftly, mouth dropping open. “What are you sorry for?”

“Coming here. I shouldn’t have come. But I needed the job…” She looks down, picking the sides of her thumb as I’ve seen my mother do when she’s anxious. I move before my brain can think, covering her jittery hands.

“This will not be an issue. I can get myself under control,” I tell her, doing my best to look as serious as possible to get my point across. I want her to be reassured. I can’t leave here knowing she’s sitting here on the edge of panic.

Her hand rises, running over the expanse of the scar on my face that everyone usually pretends isn’t there. “Is this from that night?” she asks.

My brows furrow as my veins fill with ice.

She knows.

How does she know?

I back up, panic rising in my body. My brain screams at me to run. I don’t talk about it, I can’t. None of us do.

She opens her mouth to speak, and I turn and rush out of the room, not stopping to even catch my breath until I’m on the elevator with the doors closed.

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