“You’ve been staring over here the whole time.”
Her voice appeared close to my ear, soft as velvet, and I flinched. The music had just fallen into a fleeting pause, the switch between two tracks, and her breath tickled my earlobe, a warm gust that electrified me. I turned around—and stood right in front of her. She came up to maybe my shoulder, wore a black dress that left her shoulders bare, and her eyes sparkled amber in the dimmed light.
“I… was just watching the people,” I said, gripping the beer bottle in my hand. The beer was lukewarm, but I took a sip anyway to buy time.
Her smile was thin and knowing, a sharp knife. “Liar. You were watching me.”
Heat shot to my face. She was right. Since I’d stumbled into this house party twenty minutes ago, my gaze had clung to her like a burr. She was dancing with some guy in the living room, but her eyes kept drifting to me, leaning against the bar, my back against the edge, the beer held in front of me like a shield. Now she had simply left her dance partner and stepped up to me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Maybe,” I admitted, setting the bottle down on the table beside me. The glass clinked softly against the wood.
“Do you like watching?” Her question came directly, without preamble, and she stepped even closer. Only a hand’s breadth of air separated us now. I could smell her perfume—something floral, with a hint of vanilla, sweet and heavy.
“Sometimes,” I said. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On the woman.”
She laughed softly, a tinkling sound, and let her gaze slide over me. From my eyes, it wandered downward, over my shirt, my belt, down to my shoes, then back up again. “My name is Lena.”
“Felix.”
“So, Felix. I watched you watching me. It turned me on. Do you want to keep going?”
I swallowed. My throat was dry, as if I’d swallowed dust. “Keep going?”
“Yeah. I’m going back over to Tom now, the guy I was dancing with. You stay here. You watch. And when I give you a sign, you come over to us. Agreed?”
My pulse hammered against my temples, a wild drumroll. I nodded, though I didn’t exactly know what I was getting into. But my body knew. The tension in my crotch was proof enough.
“Good.” She touched my forearm briefly, her fingers leaving a hot trail. Then she turned and sauntered back into the living room. Her dress caressed her hips, the hem lifting a little higher with each step, as if teasing me.
I leaned back against the bar and watched. She went to Tom, a lanky guy with dark curls leaning against the windowsill. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered something in his ear. He glanced briefly over at me, then shrugged and nodded. A silent agreement.
Lena began to sway to the beat of the music. Her hips circled slowly, a wave-like motion that hypnotized my eyes. Her hands glided over Tom’s chest, caressing the fabric of his shirt. Tom stood relatively still, letting her do as she pleased, but his eyes followed her movements, greedy and hungry. I watched as Lena’s hand moved lower, over his stomach, until it reached his belt. She played with the buckle but didn’t open it. Her body pressed against his, and their mouths met in a long, deep kiss. My pants grew tighter.
The thought that she knew I was watching made me dizzy. I took a sip of water from a plastic cup, but it didn’t help. It was as if every particle in me was screaming for her.
The music switched to a slower track, a smooth jazz number. Lena pulled away from Tom’s lips, turned around, and leaned back against his chest. She closed her eyes and began to move, slow, circling motions that swung her hips like a pendulum. Tom’s hands settled on her hips, slid down over her ass. He pulled the hem of her dress up a bit, and I saw the pale skin of her thighs shimmering in the light.
Lena opened her eyes and looked directly at me. Her gaze was intense, challenging, like a silent invitation. She took Tom’s hand and guided it between her legs. He let her, pressing gently against the fabric of her dress. Lena let out a soft moan, a sound that reached me even through the music and sent a shiver down my spine.
I gripped the cup tighter until the plastic crinkled. My heart was beating so loud I thought everyone must hear it. The room around me blurred; all that mattered was her.
She let go of Tom’s hand and turned back to him. She kissed him again, this time more demanding, her tongue visible between his lips, a wet, greedy play. Then she whispered something to him, and he nodded. She took his hand and pulled him out of the living room into the hallway. Before she disappeared, she threw a glance over her shoulder at me and jerked her chin in the direction she was going. A silent command.
I hesitated for a second, just one, then set down the cup and followed them.
The hallway was narrow, the walls tight, and I heard muffled voices from one of the rooms. A door stood ajar. I stepped closer, peered through the gap. A bedroom, dimly lit by a lamp on the nightstand. Lena stood with her back to the door, Tom in front of her. She had already taken off his shirt and was running her fingers over his chest, tracing lines on his skin. Her dress hung loosely over one shoulder, slipped and promising.
I leaned against the doorframe and watched. Lena bent forward and kissed Tom’s nipples, first one, then the other, her tongue circling slowly. He moaned and let his head fall back, his eyes closed. Her hands moved to his belt, opened it with practiced moves. The zipper of his pants hissed. She let his pants slide to the floor, then his boxers. His cock sprang free, already half-erect, and I felt a pull in my own crotch. Lena knelt before him and took him in her mouth.
The world around me seemed to blur. All that mattered was the image before me: Lena’s head moving rhythmically, her hand gripping the base while she lavished him with her lips. Tom’s hands lay in her hair, not demanding but supporting, almost tender. He breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling.
I stood there, motionless, and
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