The Dom Next Door

The Dom Next Door_

The Dom Next Door

Ariel Storm

Violet Hendrix is a writer stuck in a rut. Behind deadline on a manuscript and struggling with writer’s block, she tries people-watching as a way to jump-start her creativity. With her writing career on the line, and an inability to put words on the page, Violet becomes an obsessive voyeur. There’s no one she’s more interested in watching than Jack Riley, the commanding Dom who lives in the building next to hers.

As she admires him from afar, she begins to fantasize about being his submissive. When a chance encounter leads to an evening together, she has the opportunity to turn her submissive fantasy into reality. Can she submit to the Dom next door and surrender to pleasure?

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2015 Ariel Storm

Chapter One

I bent at the knees and dipped low, squeezing my ass muscles on the way up, exactly the way the chirpy fitness expert instructed me to. Behind me, I heard her call out several overused words of encouragement and promise I’d only have to do four more reps. I couldn’t be bothered to look at the blond with the perfect body mass and silicone breasts on my TV.

I performed my workout routine the way I did everything else these days, while staring out the window. Weeks had passed and I’d gone from hoping for inspiration to becoming a full-fledged snoop. I couldn’t stop watching people in my apartment complex. My knees shook from exertion and the perky voice from the TV encouraged me to feel the burn and demanded I perform two more reps.

“Screw you.”

I grabbed the remote off my oak coffee table and muted the sound. If I wanted to do more squats or a couple of yoga poses or anything else, I’d do it without the insistence of her energetic voice. Silence really was golden, after all.

Maybe the quiet would finally help break me from this horrible spell of writer’s block. I’d been trapped in the clutches of unproductivity for nearly four months. For whatever reason, the words had decided to stop flowing and nothing I did made it any easier to sit down at my laptop and peck away. I had to do something soon, I’d already put off my editor two times with lame excuses.

People-watching used to be the perfect way to spark my creative flow. Whenever I was unsure how one of my characters might react or the way their bodies would move in various situations, I’d simply go somewhere to watch. My regular haunts included the mall, the park, the airport and a nightclub. However, I’d found that the best people-watching was always done right out the big picture window in my apartment.

I had one of the finest views in the complex. My unit faced the pool, the clubhouse, laundry room and I could see directly into a few apartments. For instance, I knew that the couple living in the downstairs unit in the building across from me fought nearly every night. They threatened each other with divorce no less than three times a week.

The man who lived above them was definitely single, if the parade of women in and out of his apartment were any indication. He’d moved in a few months back and I’d already pieced together his story. It wasn’t difficult, he was home often and he left his blinds open.

He received a lot of deliveries, and thanks to the temperate southern California weather, my windows stayed open the majority of the year. The delivery men always addressed him as Mr. Riley and I’d heard him on his cell phone a time or two introducing himself to the caller as Jack. I knew from the various items lined up on his bedroom dresser that he was into a very specific type of relationship. Maybe relationship was too strong a word for what the sexy and magnetic Jack Riley engaged in.

Mr. Riley was a sexual dominate—and a good one—judging by the frequent moaning sounds that came from his apartment.

I’d witnessed him tie women up to various pieces of furniture, everything from his wrought-iron headboard to the knob on his front door. The truth was, I wouldn’t mind being taken to his den and being treated to his erotic propensities for a couple hours.

Standing near the window only reminded me that my leg muscles still trembled from their earlier overuse. I decided I’d had enough of the squats for the day and plopped down on my favorite overstuffed chair, which also faced the window instead of my television. While I realized it was slightly pathetic, I couldn’t help but feel like the happenings of my neighbors made for greater entertainment than anything prime time cable had to offer.

The early evening sky was painted with dusky hues of pink, blue and purple. After sunset was my favorite time to look out the window, I could keep the lights inside my apartment low and no one knew I was spying on them. During the day I sat in my chair or outside on my deck and feigned reading a magazine or a novel to conceal my nosy behavior. Although no one had yet to call me out on watching them, I wondered how many people actually believed that I was reading when I spent time on my deck with a stack of nearly untouched magazines.

Movement caught my peripheral vision and I shifted my attention from Jack’s apartment to someone walking across the courtyard. The light outside was fading fast, but I made out the slim figure of a woman’s silhouette against the tiki torches surrounding the pool deck. She twirled something in her hand and I could see it was a tennis racket.

A nice dip or better yet—soak—might be just what I needed. My thighs would probably be sore from the squats and lounging in the hot tub sounded heavenly. Thinking of the high-powered jets on my tender muscles was enough to propel me from my perch. Besides, I could still watch from the pool area.

Since it was dark and no one would see me, I changed into my old comfortable one-piece. The navy blue swimsuit was completely frumpy and not very flattering, but I didn’t have to worry about the vibrations from the whirlpool jets causing any of my private business to make an unwanted appearance. Even in the semi-darkness, there was nothing more embarrassing than a boob popping out of a bikini top. I grabbed a towel and shoved my feet into a pair of flip-flops and headed down to the pool.

“Ahh.”

I sunk down into the warmth and settled on the bench seat inside the tub. The hot water combined with the bubbly jets melted the soreness in my flesh like butter. Just as I was beginning to relax, a light went on in Jack’s apartment. I sat up a little straighter and lifted my neck from the headrest.

He walked to the French doors that led to his patio and stood there, simply gazing out into the darkness. The light from the streetlamps illuminated his face and torso and I could tell he was looking toward the pool. He was staring at me.

But he couldn’t be, could he?

The width of his shoulders nearly filled the doorframe, damn, but the man was well-built. He had on clothes that I knew he’d worn to work. A pair of khaki pants, with a white oxford shirt tucked in. He didn’t wear a tie and the first button of the shirt was undone, exposing his smooth throat. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up showcasing forearms that I knew from months of watching were thick with muscle and lightly covered in dark, coarse hair.

As I scanned his body and style of dress, his head was still turned in my direction. His attention hadn’t wavered in what seemed like a very long time. He’d never shown me this kind of interest before. In fact, in all the months I’d spent studying him I’d never seen him look my way. I’d wanted him to, but he’d always seemed oblivious of my watching him.

So why did I suddenly have his rapt attention? It wasn’t because I’d had a nip-slip. My trusty one-piece was still covering all my vital places. Besides, I was shielded by the veil of darkness despite the dim glow coming from the tiki torches. Did he know it was me in the hot tub? Or was he staring because he thought I was someone else?

The idea that I could be a source of fascination for the sexy Dom was exhilarating. Somehow, imagining that he pictured me as someone else made it even naughtier. My nipples tightened and I knew it wasn’t because of the cool night air caressing the front of my wet bathing suit. Beneath the warm, bubbly water my clit pulsed with need.

Jack stepped out onto his patio and leaned against the railing. His gaze was still trained on me. I didn’t know what to do under his scrutiny. I’d never been watched before. I’d always been the watcher. The role reversal left me curious, but also uneasy.

What was I supposed to do in this instance? Did he want me to go about my business in the hot tub, as though he wasn’t following my every move with his gaze? I tried to get a read on what he might want. If the roles were reversed, if I was sitting in my apartment staring at him and found him looking right back at me for a change, how would I want Jack to behave?

Hadn’t I had numerous fantasies about him putting on a show for me? Hadn’t I wished he’d slowly undress for me, never taking his gaze away from my direction? More times than I could count on both hands I’d watched Jack, willing him to look my way. On more than one occasion I’d hoped he’d strip down to nothing and then grip his thick cock. I’d thought about what I’d do if he brazenly stroked himself while looking at me.

That fantasy was something I’d played over and over in my mind for months, now it was presenting itself in reverse. Even though the water was warm, it didn’t conceal the slick heat lubricating my pussy. I was soaking wet and it had nothing to do with the fact that I was sitting waist-deep in a hot tub.

Making my moves slow and deliberate, I reached up and ran my hands down my wet tresses, sliding them down my neck. I glided them over my collarbone and let my fingers graze the sides of my breasts on their downward descent. I looked up, hoping that the smoking hot Dom was still captivated by me.

In the shadowy light, I watched Jack take one hand off the railing of his patio deck and put it in his pants pocket. Was this it? Was he reaching into his pocket to stroke himself through the thin cotton of his chino trousers?

A high-pitched chirp cut through my sexual haze. The incessant ringing got louder and I saw light coming from a small, oblong object in Jack’s hand. He’d reached into his pocket not to pleasure himself because of what I’d been doing in the hot tub, but because he’d gotten a call.

The light from the smartphone’s screen lit the side of his sculpted face as he put the cellular to his ear.

“This is Jack Riley.”

His voice was as smooth and rich as the finest milk chocolate. Since he’d used his full name, he must’ve taken a business call. I’d overhead enough of his sexual escapades to know that Master Jay was what his subs called him. Either that or Sir. Jack turned and went inside his apartment. He closed the French doors behind him, leaving me alone and without an audience.

I’d been so stupid. Maybe he hadn’t been watching me. Jack was a Dom. From what I’d seen, he had no trouble finding plenty of willing subs to satisfy any and all of his sexual desires. He didn’t need to watch some random woman fondle herself in the community hot tub. My cheeks burned with shame.

Suddenly, it seemed unnecessary for me to stay in the bubbling water. I practically leapt out and scooped up my towel. Despite my love of watching others, if I wasn’t being watched by Jack then I was uncomfortable with that kind of scrutiny coming from anyone else. The cool night air nipped at my damp skin, I wrapped my towel around my body and slipped my shoes on. I bit down on my lip to keep my teeth from chattering and took the stairs leading to my apartment two at a time.

The wet bathing suit got hung over my shower curtain rod and I wrapped up in my robe. No matter how much it aroused me to be in the hot tub under Jack’s gaze, I was much more comfortable back where I belonged. Hidden in the shadows, I peered out at the activity going on around me and snuggled into the terrycloth fabric of my robe.

Although I was cold, my body was achy and feverish. I shivered and gooseflesh broke out along my limbs, yet a fire simmered in my belly and lower. I squeezed my thighs together, revealing to me that my inner folds were slippery and hot. I leaned to the right and tried to see what Jack was doing. He held his cell phone in his hand and paced around his living room.