For Her: A Novelette Read online

  At lunch time today, I took a walk to La Perla and bought a couple of things. Then stopped to buy some new perfume. It had been a while since I’d been with a woman. I missed it but I didn’t know how to “open up” as Rachel had put it. She was such a bitch. She never tried to understand me. It’s very possible that I didn’t want her to. She was gone anyways, so it didn’t fucking matter.

  I bite my lip and run my fingers over the surface of the granite countertop. I think about the woman across the lot. I wonder what her skin smells like – what her mouth taste like. I think about what her hands would feel like in mine. How our fingers would intertwine. Would we fit together like a puzzle or not at all? I imagine pressing my nose into her blonde locks that I’m sure are as soft as her skin. I want to think she doesn’t know me but then I think she does. She speaks to me without speaking to me at all. She understands me without asking questions because she doesn’t need to. I know she could easily find out who I am but she doesn’t. She respects my space and my need for anonymity. I shut my eyes and open them to stare at the painting once more.

  I hit play again on the stereo, and listen to a song called Tomorrow by Daughter. It’s a haunting piece. I listen to it over and over when I feel like I do now.

  “Without risk, there’s no reward Regan.” My father told me when I spoke to him today.

  I smiled through the phone, knowing that what he said was true. But, Carl Keller has also been divorced three times. After all that, you’d imagine his advice to me would’ve changed but it never did. It’s always the same.

  I run a hand through my hair, heating up the last cup of tea I would have for the night. Checking the clock, I realize it’s getting up close to one in the morning. The apartment across the lot is empty with just that one tiny light illuminating the place in the den. I stand and stare for I don’t know how long, until I hear the microwave beep. When I spin back around, I see two bodies in the apartment across the way, come crashing through the door. I stand nearly frozen before hitting the lights, putting my apartment in complete darkness.

  Greer

  “I want to fuck you.” Brie hisses against my lips, fisting a section of my hair before she kisses me.

  My eyes flash open wider at the aggression she’s been hinting at all night. I allow her to kiss me. I taste her mouth and the dregs of the wine that she’d consumed earlier on her tongue. I kiss her back hard and then swing around, slamming her against the wall. The hard thud, elicits a squeak from her mouth and a long breath. I’m strong. Maybe she doesn’t know it. I hit the hallway light, wanting to give my friend across the way a little show. It’s dim but just enough that she’d be able to see everything I’m about to do to the mute I’ve been staring at across the dinner table all night.

  Brie rakes her hands through my hair.

  “Leave on your shoes.” I say stepping away, leaving her against the wall.

  She’s breathes hard and her long brown hair is a tousled mess. I laugh when I slip out of my dress. She’s only going to get messier.

  “You look beautiful.” Brie hisses, letting her hands fall to her sides.

  I kiss her again hard and nip her bottom lip when I let go. Her chest heaves and the pretty purple bra she’s wearing is now on display. I unsnap it from behind and her breasts fall free. They’re big and heavy – bigger than I thought they’d be. I run my hands over her shoulders and press my lips to hers again. I dip down and take each one of her nipples into my mouth and suck. A breathless gasp leaves Brie’s mouth. She scrambles to tear away my bra but I don’t allow her. I can tell this Brie is used to having control but not with me – not fucking happening.

  I jerk my head to my right and see a small shadow, standing in the dark across the way. She’s watching. The knowledge that she’s observing this only turns me on. I undo my bra, letting my breasts fall free and force Brie down to her knees. She moans when she kisses along the insides of my thighs, hiking up my skirt.

  “So pretty, Greer.” She slurs out, pulling my panties down.

  I hook a leg over her shoulder and shiver when her tongue touches my pussy. I rake my fingers through her hair, as her lips wrap around my clit. She sucks slow and hard and I’m already falling apart at the seams. I squeeze my breasts and tease my nipples until they’re hard peaks, which only intensifies the feeling between my legs. Brie looks up at me with her brown eyes. Her face is wet. She blinks slow and I want to slap her for stopping. She moans again.

  I smile. “You like eating pussy, don’t you?”

  Brie only nods, right before I force her face back between my legs and she’s licking and lapping at me again. I press my back against the cool wall and stare up at the skylight in my apartment. It’s a starry night outside. I hiss and moan, taking occasional glances out of the wall of windows in my den. The shadow is still there across the way, watching. I writhe against the wall, feeling the cool stone at my back. Brie is moaning into my flesh and seems lost, someplace else. It might be the same place she’s taking me. She slows and focuses on my clit, parting my legs even wider. I’m exposed in a way that I like but then I don’t. I scream when her tongue flutters over my swollen flesh. My legs begin to shiver and I know I’m coming and soon.

  A high-pitched cry leaves my mouth when my pussy throbs. I hiss and whimper, feeling the powerful waves move through me. I’m panting, breathing heavy. I pull Brie up to stand and kiss her hard, walking her slow to the bedroom. I tear off her panties and she yelps. Slamming her against the wall, I kiss her harder.

  “You like it rough?” Brie squeaks out.

  She has no idea.

  I only laugh and nudge her back towards the bedroom. She seems turned on, terrified – maybe both. I hit a switch and a tiny light in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating the space dimly.

  “Lie on the bed.” I instruct, pulling what I need from my nightstand.

  Brie gingerly edges up on the top of the comforter. I kiss her hard and slip down between her legs. I lick and suck until she comes screaming, raking her fingers through my blonde hair like she’s dying as she does.

  “Turn over.” I moan against her quivering lips.

  She does.

  I pull her hips up in one strong tug and drag my fingers over her hot, wet slit. I steady myself behind her and look at the thick, fat nine-inch cock strapped to me. I hope she’s ready for it. I drag a finger along the line of Brie’s spine and place a kiss to her hips. Her skin is soft and warm and is dusted by a floral vanilla scent that I can’t stop myself from inhaling. I knead her ass a few times before I press the cock to her entrance. She moans a little and rocks her hips back, begging for her pussy to be filled.

  “Greer.” She whispers, fisting the sheets in her hands just as I push the monster in.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Greer

  She isn’t there.

  I’ve been waiting, sitting here for the last three hours. The window shade in her apartment is up a foot from the floor. I flinch and stand when bare feet come into view. I rush to the glass and place my palms on it, waiting. The small feet remain there for a minute and then the shade simply drops. I back away from the window, letting out shallow breaths and sit back on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m such an asshole.” I mumble to myself.

  I fiddle with my fingers for a while, debating my next move. I now realize that I’ve done something very wrong. I scrub my face with my hands and let out a loud sigh. This hurts more than I thought it would. It hurts that I’ve hurt her, just when I was close to getting her to open up. I stand and slip out of my shoes and then take the rest of my clothes off. Naked, I head into the bathroom. I’m already tired and hungover from the night before but I would’ve have made it through anything to be here today, for our time. I turn the water on and listen to it beat against the tiles before the steam drifts over the top of the curtain. I step in, allowing the water to hit every inch of my skin before I soap up.

  Craning my neck, I look up to the recess lighting above me, brea
thing the citrusy scent of the body wash in. Then I smile. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way and here I am completely crestfallen, over a woman I’d never even spoken to or seen before. I’m losing it! I run the loofah over my skin, making sure I cover every inch. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her in lingerie. I miss her and the peach hues she brings into my life. When I’m done, I grab an already warm towel and wrap it around me.

  Standing in front of the mirror, I brush my hair away from my face. My eyes are a little red and tired and my lips are swollen from the after effects of Brie. If I had any feelings for the faceless woman across the way, I’m certain they aren’t shared. Maybe she cares about me too? I sigh. Now, I just feel like shit. Like really, feel like shit.

  I head back out into the bedroom and grab my laptop. I consider a few things and debate how to fix my blunder. I decide that the painting on the wall will change tomorrow and I know exactly what to put there.

  Greer

  “Who is she?” Martin asks.

  “I don’t know.” I whisper, before taking a long sip of the caramel macchiato cappuccino in my hands. “But she has nice feet.”

  Martin lets out a soft laugh.

  The hot liquid warms my stomach from the New York cold. It’s getting close to five o’clock. Martin and I have been sitting on this bench in Central Park for the last hour. He takes the top off the gourmet biscotti I picked up and takes one out.

  “Is that all you’ve seen of hers?”

  “No.” I whisper, dropping my head low to fiddle with the cream cashmere scarf around my neck. “I’ve seen everything but her face.”

  Martin snorts a laugh. “Maybe she’s a but-her-face.”

  I giggle. “I hope not. Noooo, I just think she’s shy I don’t know.”

  Martin shrugs. “Maybe.” He whacks me in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me about this, Greer.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s a secret. You know how secrets are.”

  Martin gives me a look. “Yes, I know.”

  “Besides, I don’t want you going home and telling Gregory what I’ve told you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, Greer.” He hisses.

  “Well, okay then.”

  Martin slips further down into the bench, stretching his long legs out. He runs a hand through my hair, tucking a lock of it behind my ear. “You’re my best friend, Greer. I want to see you happy.”

  “I want to be happy, too.”

  Martin huffs a breath. “Why don’t you to lunch with Gregory and I next week.”

  Inwardly, I groan but then relent. “Okay, when.” I ask in a disinterested tone.

  Martin twists his face. “Tuesday.”

  I giggle. “I can’t.”

  He sits forward and leans into me. “What do you mean, you can’t. We have reservations at Nobu. Do you know how hard it is to get a reservation there?”

  “I’m busy that day. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  I only wait for Martin to accuse me of not wanting to be in the same room as Gregory but I really am busy on Tuesdays, especially in the afternoons.

  “Busy doing what?”

  “Tuesday is our day.” I whisper.

  Martin narrows his brown eyes at me. “Our day?”

  “Yes, Tuesday is for her, every week.”

  Martin belts out a laugh, revealing his gorgeous Colgate smile. “So, you’re carving time out in your weekly schedule for a woman you barely know, have never seen and have never spoken to?”

  “Yes.” I whisper.

  Martin laughs even louder. “You know this is insane right, Greer?”

  “I’m not that far gone. Of course, I know it’s insane.” I mumble.

  Martin slumps against the back of the bench as we take in the runners, bike riders and dog walkers moving through Central Park this time of day. The sky is greying and the breeze that moves through where we sit, reminds me that it’s fall.

  “It all sounds so mysterious and hot, Greer if you ask me. I hate to say it but it does. And you’re such a fucking control freak. I can’t believe this woman has you bending backwards for her.”

  “I’m not bending backwards. I don’t know. I guess I don’t mind being patient for whatever it is that awaits me, if there’s anything at all.”

  “Since when does Greer Sutton have patience?”

  I laugh and press my face into Martin’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe now. This woman isn’t like any other woman I know.”

  “You don’t know her, Greer!” Martin shouts with a hysterical laugh.

  I groan and bite into my bottom lip. “You know what I mean.” I mumble taking another sip of the cappuccino in my hands.

  “No. I don’t.” He chuckles. “Just be careful. This woman sounds like a fucking nut job. She has your address.”

  “Well, I have hers.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.” He says, crunching another piece of biscotti between his teeth.

  Regan

  All the shades to her apartment are up but she isn’t home. I’ve been standing in the darkness for over an hour staring at the new painting that’s on her wall. Two lovers are in an embrace trying to kiss through their separate grey hoods, which could double as shrouds. Their lips never meet. The cloth is dry and must be suffocating on their tongues. They can’t see each other. They can’t feel each other and they can’t kiss. It’s a fucking masterpiece of sexual frustration.

  According the to the description I typed into a Google an hour ago, the painting is called The Lovers. It was painted by an artist named Renee Magritte in 1928. It’s beautiful and strange, much like me I suppose.

  The front door of her apartment opens and she walks in, alone. She stares out in the distance and I swear she can see me, even though I know there’s no way that she can. She sets her purse down on the center island in her kitchen. Her blonde hair hangs down to the middle of her back and a scarf is wrapped around her neck. She pours herself a glass of water and disappears. I drop the binoculars in my hands and watch every single light in the apartment click off. Then a tiny light in the corner of her bedroom turns on. It was the same light that casted her bedroom into a soft glow when she was fucking that slut the other night. I watched the entire show, feeling my guts twist and knot. I was dizzy with jealousy as she fucked that woman doggy-style for nearly an hour before she kicked her out at two o’clock in the morning.

  She likes to give, to be on top and to dole out the punishment. It’s the one thing I’m certain of just from watching her over these last few months. This woman is a control freak. I wondered just how much she’d be willing to give up for me. I stand in the darkness, still watching her place. She leaves the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her and then drops it.

  I drop the binoculars and then lift them to my face again slowly. Her long hair is pulled over one shoulder and her breasts are pressed against the glass. I can hear my own breathing as I watch her. She’s bold and unlike me. I can see her face. She has sharp features - high cheekbones and nice lips. She’s pretty and her body is incredible. She’s curvy with a narrow waist and wide hips. She places a hand on the glass or more like slams it with an open-mouth and slips a hand between her legs. She’s masturbating, completely naked. I see her features twist and contort and then she slows again, moving her hands up over her skin to squeeze her breasts.

  I grit my teeth and feel that long neglected spot between my legs throb at the vision in front of me. This woman is sexy. She’s bold. She’s fucking amazing. She knows I’m watching.

  The painting. The vision of her fucking herself right in front of me. Opening the shades to her entire place these last few days, so I can see her. She’s letting me in – encouraging me to do the same. She’s there for me. I can really see her now and she doesn’t care. She’s frustrated and horny and she wants to know who I am. She’s talking to me. She’s telling me everything she wants me to know without even speaking.

  Her brows are knotted and her face twists up into the most
tormented expression. Her hand slips down between her legs and she’s fucking herself fast and hard with her fingers. A smile spreads across her face along with a euphoric look that tells me she’s coming. I wish I could hear it. I wish I was there to see it, up close! Her chest heaves for air. She stands there completely naked and places her hand against the glass looking out. Then she backs away to the corner of her bedroom and hits the light, tossing the room into darkness. I watch her slide beneath the comforter on her bed to rest on her side and I can feel her staring at me. Can she see me? She moves again under the cover of the darkness, draping a hand over her hip while she stares out of her window.

  I back away from my own and slide into bed.

  I want to talk to her. Do I know how?

  Greer

  I stayed up most of the last few nights, staring into the darkness of the apartment across the lot. I know she’s there. I want her to watch me. This morning, I move around my apartment making coffee. I’ve left all the window shades up, so she can see in – every one of them. The shades to her apartment are all down. I’m certain she can see out but I can’t see in and that’s fine. I accept that I need to get her back to the place I almost had her, pre-Brie fucking.

  The painting on the wall today will change again. I’m certain I’ve made a good selection. I check my watch, noticing that it’s getting up to eight o’clock. I toss my bag over my shoulder and open the front door. I take the elevator down to the first floor of my building.

  When I pass the concierge desk, Antonio stops me. “Buenos dias, senora Sutton.” He says.

  “Good morning, Antonio.” I say, snuggling deeper into my scarf, looking out of the main doors.

  Antonio thrusts a hand out to me, passing me an envelope. “It’s for you.”

  I open it quickly, unfold the paper and look over the script writing.