Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA
She’s mine, I’m coming…
Bebe Hall is a heartbreaker. She’s the it girl of the moment, a partygirl
nobody can stop in her path of self destruction. Bebe Hall isn’t the star of
her own story.
She’s the star of mine.
My name is Miles O’Reilly. I’m a photographer. An agoraphobic. A millionaire. A
womanizer. I’m confined to my apartment. I don’t leave. Ever.
But when she sees me with my latest online conquest in the window of my
apartment, my attention shifts to Bebe.
And once I see something I want, I don’t give up until it’s mine.
Peep Show is a 90,000 word novel with themes of voyeurism and dark scenes
that may be upsetting to readers. If you are brave enough, come meet Miles.
He’s been waiting for you.
on too-high heels and too much vodka.
had too much to drink. My silver sequined dress was riding up, revealing a hint
of my ass under the shiny fabric. My hair was wild, the dark brown locks a halo
around my head, and my brown eyes glowed with excitement. At least my makeup
was still in place, the perfect smoky cat-eye enhancing my looks, making me
appear demure yet sexy. I’d perfected the art of it, making sure I always had
someone eager to buy me a drink.
torturing me all night. But it was okay – I’d learned to handle the pain, and
when I was dancing, it never mattered anyway.
had become, but only for a short minute.
dancing and partying, was the only way I could do it. If I stopped twirling,
stopped tipping back glass after glass, I risked stopping long enough to think
about what I was doing. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.
fresh air in. There was nothing quite like a nice fall breeze to clear my head,
and God, I needed some fucking clarity.
streetlights. It was gone four a.m., and most of the lights in the apartment
building next door were off. I lived in a nice neighborhood of townhouses,
about three apartments per floor and three floors total. It was a nice place to
live, and, of course, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it if it hadn’t been
for my parents’ stack of cash in my bank account.
the street from me. I could see right into their home, but the minimalistic
apartment seemed to be empty, even though it was lit up.
face, slowly bringing me to my senses once again.
apartment opposite mine. Except now, it wasn’t empty anymore.
the window, fucking her savagely, mashing her tits against the window, her
mouth opened in an endless gasp as he took her from behind.
darkness and watching the show they were putting on with a smirk on my face.
contrast to the pale man standing behind her, towering over her. She was tiny
and curvy, and he was fucking enormous.
was wrapped around her neck in a chokehold, strangling the screams right out of
her. And his skin was covered in dark, menacing ink, the black color stark
against his light skin.
inside her from behind, claiming her petite body and making her mouth open in a
silent scream. He fucked like a beast, and he looked like a monster. I fell in
love with him right then and there.
and trying not to look away from the scene in front of me at the same time. I
wanted to watch. I wanted to see his face when he filled her up. I wanted to
see if he’d pull her hair back like I imagined he would.
and quickly snapping a picture of them. It was blurry as fuck, but it would
have to do. Suddenly, I felt awake and sober, staring into the cold night
outside and wishing I could swap places with the wild-haired beauty. I wanted
him inside me.
did my best to ignore it. Instead, I kept snapping pictures of them. Of him.
closer to the window. My breath made foggy circles on the glass and my hands
shook as I dropped my phone and reached under the hem of my dress.
gently before spreading my own trembling legs apart, slowly outlining the wet,
dripping shape of my pussy lips between my thighs.
making my pussy drool so much I flushed in embarrassment.
sodden satin fabric of my panties, outlining my perfectly waxed pussy as I
shivered under my own touch. It felt so strange, voyeuristic, to be watching
them do this only on the other side of the street. And it was horny as hell.
finding my clit. I’d let someone kiss me at the club that night, but I didn’t
bring anyone back with me, which was strange for me. I liked having someone to
go home with. It made me feel wanted.
for, which was probably the reason I hadn’t brought him back home with me. He
had a buzzcut, and his face was clean-shaven too, and I loved the prickly
feeling of his features under my fingertips, and the push of his bulge against
my tummy. But I didn’t let myself have it. I really didn’t do nice guys,
because I wasn’t a very nice girl.
stroked me towards an orgasm. His hand was squeezing her throat so tightly she
looked like she was out of breath, her chest heaving and her mouth open so
girl was crying her eyes out, all the while coming all over his dick.
with a desperate cry, my pussy making a mess all over my fingers. I’d always
been such an easy comer, ever since I learned how to get off by myself.
possibly could as I stared at them. He was still choking the girl, her eyes
closed and her breathing ragged, but his own gaze was firmly fixed on me.
saw them both so fucking well.
glaring in the darkness of the night. He ran his free hand through his dark,
slicked back hair, and carelessly scratched at the stubble growing on his chin.
Then, he reached in front and pinched the girl’s nipple so hard she threw her
head back in a scream I couldn’t hear.
the window. Two sharp raps, whispering something in his girl’s ear, making her
eyes fly open in panic, glance across the street, and she saw me.
dribbling down my thighs.
waved and nudged the girl he was fucking, motioning for her to do the same
thing. When she shook her head, his hand wrapped tighter around her throat.
absolute desperation that I was the beautiful petite girl next door getting her
pussy slammed by a stranger.
eyes remained locked on me as he came, the girl crumpling in his arms, only him
holding her up as he spurted inside her. My fingers fell away from my body, my
poor cunt spasming by itself, leaking down my thighs, ruining the sequins of my
dress and covering them in my own pussy juice.
only see her naked back against the glass, her shoulders hunched as she cried
her release out, her whole body shaking with pent-up orgasms.
feet 5. He was fucking enormous, so tall she looked like a child at his feet.
He was ripped, muscles everywhere, looking not just like he worked out
regularly but like he made it his mission to keep his body in perfect shape.
and stroked slowly.
steamed-up window with the other.
streetlights outside illuminate me. I knew he saw me now, because he jerked his
dick faster, and it made me fucking ecstatic. He liked what he saw. And how
couldn’t he? I was always sure to be groomed to 5 feet and 10 inches of
polished, manicured and slutty perfection.
him my ruined panties.
shaft with fast, needy motions.
because he’d tried to write their mirror reflection so I could read it.
taboo is what Isabella Starling is known for.
bestselling Author, Isabella has 10 books under her belt in under a year. She
is a self-proclaimed Tumblr gif addict and always looking for her next
Starling book, you can count on a bad-mouthed, bossy man who will dominate his
woman with a rough hand.
of taboo, a touch of BDSM and a pinch of suspense, and you’re all set for a
story you won’t forget.