When A Guy Watches Your Every Move Novels & Stories

Like I’m just another man here and she needs to get paid. My stomach turns. Disgust coils tight in my chest, but I don’t push her away. Everything could be a test, and I can feel eyes watching me. So I play along. I place a hand around her waist, pulling her slightly closer, forcing myself to act like I belong here. I hate every second of it inside. My eyes move constantly, scanning, observing, memorizing faces, movements, patterns. Who’s watching? Who’s important? Who’s pretending? I catalog everything.

Instead I stood there watching as I let my mind shamelessly wander. I watched Colson move with a predatory grace that both terrified and fascinated me. Every movement was calculated, every gesture deliberate. I watched as the veins in his arms popped out from every little action and how his biceps flexed from every movement. He looked like he was advertising doing fucking dishes. And I was sold. The longer I stared, the more I found my interest and unfortunately, attraction to him growing.

But mostly, I was aware of him. He didn’t dance extravagantly. His movements were controlled, measured. A subtle lead, a slight shift of pressure at my back guiding me closer, turning me with effortless precision. He didn’t ask for space—he took it. “You’re staring,” I murmured quietly. “At you?” he asked. “At the room.” “I’m monitoring it.” “Of course you are.” His thumb brushed slowly against the small of my back. “You’re part of the room now.” Before I could respond, the atmosphere changed.

Might make me just as bare. There’s nothing shy about the way he moves. Every action is deliberate. Owning the space, the air, the silence. He doesn’t care that he’s half-naked, doesn’t care that I’m watching. Or maybe he does. Maybe he wants me to see what kind of man he is. One who doesn’t flinch. One who doesn’t hide. My fingers dig into my own arms as I wrap them tighter around myself, like maybe if I hold myself hard enough, I won’t fall apart.

He simply held himself with an effortless, absolute authority that made the entire space seem to tilt in his direction. My breath caught. It happened every time. I'd been watching this man for six weeks, memorizing the way he moved, the way he smiled, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when something amused him. And still, every Thursday, seeing him across the room sent a jolt through my chest.

I suddenly felt nervous because of the way he was looking at me. “Is that the kind of movie you like? Is that the kind of action you want to experience? Tell me, who do you watch those movies with?” There was a threatening tone in his voice. I blinked. “J-Just me.” He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Good. Make sure you never watch that kind of show unless I’m with you, do you understand?” I nodded rapidly in response. “Still, you have no idea what you got yourself into, my wife.” His eyes were now filled with lust and desire.

I keep my head lowered on her shoulder, but my eyes up and watching. Evaline's mouth continues to tease my neck while I try to keep my eyes on the guy's hands. Five minutes pass the same, and I know it looks suspicious; we're the least active people in the room, and it is causing us to get looks. The guy I'm watching, though, barely looks around the room. "Play with me, little rabbit." We need to fit in, and right now, we're not. It would be easier if he had one woman with him, not two. Two, make it more challenging. I'm trying to ensure I don't miss anything.

Now, I should try my best to sleep or else I will have no power to walk to Siya? I wonder what she's doing now? George should not do this to her. I pray to God, that she will get a true love. I don't know what has happened to me nowadays? I have simply started talking with myself. The guy said in hesitation, "No, I know if I sit there you will try to unmask me." I assured him, "No , I will not try to unmask you, I am promising." The guy said, "Ok, I will but first eat you foods."

The way he moved, the way his eyes washed over me, lingering a few extra seconds over my lips, how his body looked tense as if he was ready to leap over and take me. "Don't act like you don't like it," He shot back, dangerously stalking towards me. It was sexy and alluring and made me want to jump at him and devour him and... and... fuck. Giselle, focus! I glared at him as he continued, "You know I watch you. That's why you roam around naked," I clenched my jaw because, well... he was right, "Whenever you're with Waylon, you look for the cameras. Whenever you touch him, you look for the cameras. I know this is your game!"

“It is guidance. Observation. A chance to learn where your edges are, where your body responds, and where it falters.” I exhaled slowly, tilting my hips, rolling my spine, arching my chest. Heat flared deep and urgent, pressing into every muscle. My pulse hammered. I felt every inch of myself under their eyes, every twitch, every subtle adjustment measured and evaluated. They are watching me so closely. Every movement is being judged. And instead of shrinking away, I feel myself leaning into their gaze. I want them to see how I respond. I want them to know that I am choosing this. The thought sends a dark thrill through me that makes my hole clench and more slick leak down my thighs.