I ♥ watching. I have to admit that. Okay, so I’m talking about the people in my books. But still, I’m a bit of a voyeur at heart.
I tend to write quite a few peeking scenes in my book. A lot of my books! People are always peeking at each other. Seeing things. Using what they saw for sexual fodder.
There’s something wonderfully naughty about seeing something you shouldn’t see. It’s a good thing to make the heart race and the blood flow.
Once, when I lived in another state, I was walking down an alley and found a bunch of Polaroids up on a fence. They were dirty pictures. Pictures of people shot in the most intimate of moments. I have no idea who put them there. If the couple put them there, if he did—if she did. I don’t even know if it was done intentionally as a turn on or even in a malicious manner. I like to think it was a small act of exhibitionism on their part and I was their inadvertent voyeur.
Either way, it’s a moment I remember vividly. Seeing something I technically should not. I think most of us have witnessed things that maybe we shouldn’t. And probably, we can recall those things a bit better than most of the stuff it was okay for us to witness.
See, wonderfully naughty.
By the way, some of you might recognize that story of the Polaroids on a fence from one of my short stories, Picket Fences. That scenario has snuck into more than one of my stories and books. Because the naughty stuff sticks with you. It’s the naughty stuff—deeds, thoughts, glimpses—that linger in your mind.
Just ask my character Cameron…
From Beast in Me (book 2 of the Divination Falls trilogy) by Sommer Marsden
He was never going to sleep. Not unless he …
Cameron jumped up and moved quickly across the cool stone floor. He didn’t think it was possible to feel any more ridiculous, but here he was proving himself wrong. He slid the small dresser by the door across the doorway.
Yeah, that’s real stealthy, I’m sure.
It didn’t matter, though. There were no locks on the guest quarters and there was no way in the world he was going to have the custodian, or worse – Father Finn – walk in on him while he was tossing off.
‘Pervert,’ he mumbled. Cam swore he heard a dark, deep chuckle and he froze. But there was nothing to be heard but for a blonde anchorwoman chattering on about a local quilting bee for charity.
When he flopped back on the bed, he pushed a hand into his boxers and started with a long, easy stroke. It had been ages since he’d even done this, he realised. He was a sexless maniac prodded about life by lightning, he realised. His last “job” had been helping a family whose crops kept getting struck. It turned out there was a body on the property. A restless spirit that had been murdered years before the family had ever owned the farmland.
It made no sense helping people with lightning, and yet, it was what he did. The life he lived was a never-ending march of aiding farmers with rain and helping with unsettled energy. Energy was energy and he was a slave to the juice.
Cameron ran his thumb over the slick bit of precome on his tip. It felt good to be touched. Even by himself. His hips rose up before he realised they would, his body so eager for release that it revelled to even his own familiar hand.
Pressing his lips together, he set his mind to picturing that big man, that big body, that somehow elegant hand on that big cock. He could see the custodian, Trace if he remembered correctly, jerking off as clearly as if it were playing on a movie screen.
His eager mind changed the film to the man’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth while eyes he imagined to be just-before-the-lightning grey watched him with almost predatory glee. He’d suck that man’s cock until he wept, Cameron thought, and he felt a resounding tug as his heartbeat seemed to rattle around inside his bones, his gut, his balls.
He squeezed a bit harder, slid his hand a bit faster, and imagined those lips on his. It was a strong mouth, from what he’d seen, and he imagined those lips on his would be demanding and … spectacular.
A soft sound slipped out of him as he felt his body inch a bit closer to coming. He wanted to come right that instant, but it had been for ever so he also wanted to draw it out. Tough call.
Throwing an arm over his eyes, just like the custodian, to block out the intrusive ghost flicker of the TV, he put himself in his fantasy. Imagined himself being kissed, touched, manhandled, and then flipped. Cool, lubricated finger sliding inside him, flexing so that he opened – blossomed – for the man. The kiss of a silken cock tip. The first blissful push of flesh to flesh and the heavy, stretched pleasure of being slowly filled.
Cameron’s breath was almost suffocating in his lungs, the humid, substantial breath of lust and need. He was full of his urges and his wants, jittery with arousal and attraction. His tired mind supplied the image of big hands on his hips, yanking and grabbing possessively as he was fucked beyond any thought but yes. Yes, take me. Yes, fuck me. Yes.
Cameron came with a gasp, biting his tongue quickly between his teeth to make no more noise. He had to be silent. He couldn’t be heard.The secrecy added to the staggering pleasure and another shiver hit him as he emptied all the way. His semen sticky and warm on his hand. How long had it been? Too long, because it felt like it would never, ever end. And that was fine.
His senses returned, giving him the news of an upcoming peach festival and a shark spotted in a close by bay area. Then the voice came, a resonating baritone that seemed to come with an audible smile. ‘I take it that was good? Sleep well, visitor.’
Then silence. Cameron scrambled to a sitting position, his heart wedged firmly in the back of his throat. He knew that voice. The custodian. But there was no way he could know. No way he could have heard. Not through that thick mahogany door with the TV going and Cam working so, so hard to be silent. Right?
Weather worker Cameron Bale rolls into Divination Falls after being prompted by Spirit and Brother Lighting. He discovers that the small, hidden town full of shifters and magical types is suffering a series of unsettling events. There’s speculation from the town seers that he could be the answer they’ve been looking for. Cameron’s willing to try and help: he’s got nowhere to go and nothing to lose. His life is simply about loneliness and it turns out that Trace, a grumpy wolf with stunning eyes, knows just what that feels like. Cam finds himself wishing maybe they could be alone … together. Oh yeah, and battle whatever evil it is that still lurks in Divination Falls.