Page 14 of Peep
It’s not like I have many jobs left, and if I plan on seducing Anders, maybe I should let him in on my dirty little secret. It’s not like he’s going to report me to the police. He’s a filthy criminal himself. Match made in heaven if you ask me.
I slide my hand under the sofa, pulling out my encrypted laptop and dongle. Firing it up and connecting it to the internet, I log onto the dark web, open up my website’s landing page, and check my schedule. I have three bookings I’ve already committed to and two new requests since I last checked. As tempted as I am to respond so I can help these people heal, things are too precarious at the moment. I’ll complete my current bookings and another that I’ve been saving. Then, I’ll finally be able to move on. I can’t keep living in the horrors of the past. Justice will be served, and Anders and I can run off into the sunset—well, if he stops avoiding me, that is.
The clock above the swimming pool reads 9:58 p.m. when I come up for air between laps. In the next few minutes, Anders will do his evening walk around, ensuring the pool area is locked for the night—not that I know his schedule or anything.
Like clockwork, Anders’ footsteps approach the double doors at 10 p.m. sharp. I sink under the water and swim to the side of the pool. Listening for his footsteps, I wait until he passes by and jump up, grabbing his ankle. He squeals like a pig before slipping on the water I splashed out and landing on his arse.
“You fucking knob,” he roars, face scrunched up like he’s swallowed a hornet.
Boisterous laughter rumbles through me, making my stomach ache. Anders’ cheeks are sunburnt red, chest heaving in anger. His feet and calves are already in the water, so I might as well drag him the rest of the way in. He needs to lighten up.
“What, no. Don’t you fucking dare!”
He wrestles with me, but I overpower him, and he falls in with a delightful plop. I dunk him under for good measure; let’s see if my cub really bites. I release him and float back. As much as I enjoy winding him up, I don’t fancy getting headbutted.
“Aaah!” he screams when his head springs above water. He starts thrashing like a child having a tantrum because they’ve been told it’s time to get out of the pool. I cackle at his outburst—such a little brat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Anders splutters. He swipes his soggy fringe out of his eyes, glowering so hard I’m worried he might pop a blood vessel if he isn’t careful.
“Oh, lighten up. It’s just a bit of water. You’ll dry off in a few hours,” I force out through my laughter.
“I have eight fucking hours left of my shift, you wanker.”
Oops, didn’t think of that. It’s his own fault for ignoring me for days after I put on such a glorious show for him. Rude really. It’s definitely not healthy how much I crave his attention. Especially when it’s littered with insults.
I take in his flushed cheeks and pink pebbly nipples that are on full display through his sodden shirt.
“You look hot when you’re wet and pissy.”
He grits his teeth, then drops his head under the water, and I hear a muffled scream. Always so dramatic. When he doesn’t come up for air, I swim over, dragging him up by the shirt collar. His clothed chest brushes against my bare one. The tickle of the wet material against my nipples sends a spark of arousal straight to my cock, making it bob behind my shorts.
Anders pants against me, his icy eyes carefully cataloguing my facial features like he’s not sure if he wants to kiss me or bite my nose off; at this point, I’d take either option as long as he has me in his grasp.
Water streams from his heavy fringe, falling into his eyes. I take one hand from his collar, gently pushing it aside so he can look at me properly. Because that’s what he wants, isn’t it? He wants to watch me.
Sucking in air through his front teeth, I sense the effect I have on him. His accelerated heart pounds against mine as we levitate in the fragile moment. I want to kiss him and keep that smartarse mouth shut for a little longer. He’s fucking angelic when he’s not trying to fight me.
I inch closer, letting him feel the swell of my cock pushing against my swim shorts. He’s right there with me, hard as granite.
Anders’ hands grip my waist, pulling me closer even though he’s scowling like I’m his sworn enemy. He shocks me by slamming his forehead on my shoulder and rocking his hips so his hard length drags against mine. This is what I wanted. Come on, Anders,let go.
Ripples of pleasure travel from my lower stomach to the tip of my cock. I give a slight thrust of my own, and he moans before clamping his teeth onto my shoulder. Yes, I knew he was vicious.
“You really are a little lion. I’m glad you finally decided to pounce instead of just stalking me.”
Anders’ body stiffens, and he slowly unclamps his teeth from my shoulder like he’s come back to his senses.
“Don’t worry; I like being stalked.” I attempt to soothe the moment and keep us connected, but it’s too late; he’s out of it.
Anders struggles from my hold, face displaying an array of humiliation and disgust.
“I-I need to get back to work,” he stutters.
“But you’re all wet.” I cock a smug eyebrow at him, hoping he doesn’t overthink this.
Anders releases a long sigh and swims to the side of the pool. Shit, he’s actually pissed.
“Anders, wait. I’m sorry, ok? Let me lend you some dry clothes.”
