Un-betaed. Please review! ;)

The Voyeur

Colette gripped harder on the ring, getting ready for the next flip. She enhanced the rocking with a firm hip swing and tried a backflip. She held her breath as she landed somewhat ungracefully, still managing to stay on and avoid an unpleasant fall.

She internally swore, sighing aloud as she tried again. She wasn't sure if she'd seen right when, several minutes before, she'd spotted a shadow coming in her rehearsal tent. She thought it was Vandevere, at first, telling her to come in the tower: the following day she would have to go on stage, so he needed to inspect her body in case of any flaws, like always. He liked to watch even where her costume would cover her skin, and of course, it took him usually more than necessary even if there was nothing wrong.

Colette continued with her training, despite the late hours, and forgot about that shadow quickly since no one made his presence known. For some reason, however, she had the strangest feeling of being observed.

She practiced some new movements until she felt spent and uncomfortably sweaty and decided it was finally enough for the day, so she jumped off the lyra to land stiffly on the net with a backflip and a graceful scissoring toward the end. She pretended she was surrounded by a crowd and heaved herself down the net with a smooth movement.

"Magnifique, ma cherie!"

Colette spun on her heels, her breathing cut. She heard someone clapping slowly and sighed to ease her heart as the fright slip off her tensed body.

"You startled me." She glared, talking slowly as she strived not to let out too much of her accent. "How long have you been watching?" She inquired, her eyebrow crooked as she searched blindly with her hand behind, then grabbed a robe and put it over he shoulder to shield her body from the chilly air: she was completely drenched and she certainly didn't want to catch a cold right the day before the show.

"Enough." He shrugged, coming out from his narrowed shady spot he'd found; the yellowish light bathed him from the side while the other half of his face was dark, making his grin get almost creepy, in a way. Colette studied his face like he was some grotesque illustration in some children's book. "I like your new.. thing." He said dismissively, gesturing around with his cane. "Just try to be more pretty when you do it." He suggested with a grimace.

"I'm just tired." She justified, crossing her arms. She was getting irked at that remark, but of course, she couldn't just let him know that she didn't need his expertise. "I did it perfectly the other few times."

"Oh, I saw that." He agreed. "If you could do it slower, maybe.." He murmured casually, letting his phrase trailing off.

"I would get the gown over my face." She spat. "There are les enfantes, mon chere," She said in a lower voice, trying not too sound too ironic. "I'm sure the fathers would be glad to have a good look at my legs as I do my split while I'm upside-down, but I don't know about their wives."

"I would certainly enjoy the view." He said with what he thought to be a seductive grin.

Colette put out her best effort not to snort.
"Oh, I know you would." She replied then, surprising herself when her voice sounded almost alluringly low, just as if she'd planned it.

"So, are you done?" He asked impatiently at some point.

Colette shook her head.
"Not at all. It's late and no one will tidy up this place before tomorrow, but I need to warm-up first thing in the morning, so I have to do it." She explained casually, placing her hands on her hips. She tried to study his features, getting any hint from his expression that could tell her what did he had in mind: yes, she knew he wanted to drag her to the tower where his apartments were, but now that she told him she would stay there a little longer, what were his plans for the next hour or so? "Alors?" She spurred.

"I'll wait." He simply stated, perching himself on the lonely stool in front of the mirror where some of her stuff laid, forgotten or discarded.

Colette stared at him for a moment, then shrugged and started to tidy up the place to her liking. Just before she could get the work started, a soft breeze of air suddenly hit her bare leg; she lowered her glance and only then she noticed that despite being enough to shield her body from the draughts, her robe was plain see-through.

No wonder Vandevere had decided to stay. She hid a smirk and shook her head: men. So delightfully predictable and needy in their basic and physical urges.

She sighed and started to check the poles and wires, took down the lyra to inspect it and polish the metal, at the end, she even scooped up some dirt from the floor, after retrieving the net and placing it in one corner of the tent.

As time passed, Colette got increasingly vexed. Not only he did not offer any help, but he also stood there the entire time as she struggled to lift things and fought against the counterweights, grinning at her as he tapped his short nails on the handle of his cane, his eyes, almost unblinking, latched on every move she made.

She thought it would be a relaxing process, as usual when she was cleaning her places, but for some reason, she found herself more fatigued and sweaty than before. Vandevere couldn't take his eyes off of her and the fact that he stubbornly would remain silent as he stared, was getting on her nerves.

He was enjoying the view, every time she would offer him her back or bent down to retrieve some of the old safety wires, but then she realized that he would call her in his apartment and prolong that inspection, demanding her also to remove every garment she had. Of course, to no use, since he pretended to have her in bed early the nights before show time; he would have fantasized about his Queen of the Heavens on his own, while she would serve as some living dirty-magazine picture and send off to bed like a child. It wasn't fair.

"Is this one of yours?" He asked casually, pointing at some peacock feathers laying on the ground. It was literally inches from him, by his feet, but of course, he was too comfy on his stool to get up and pick it up for her.

Colette sighed silently. His efforts were miserable while he thought himself as the best seducer in the whole world and that was why, perhaps, she liked to play with him so much.

She slowly walked to him, her blue eyes never leaving him, and when she was closer, he obliged his silent request and bent down directly in front of him, taking her time during the whole process.

"Merci." She chirped as she straightened her back. Colette winked at him, smiling behind the feather as she pressed it slightly on her lips.

Vandevere stared with a grin for a solid minute before raising his cane again, pointing somewhere behind her.

"There's another one." He said mischievously.

Colette snorted, letting the feather fall, much to his dismay. This was getting ridiculous.

"Mon pote, let me get this straight." He spat, her eyes inflamed. "Are you going to eye-fuck me all night or are you actually going to do something about it?"

Vandevere frowned, gaping a couple of times as she stared at him, her expression demanding as she tapped impatiently her foot on the ground.

"I'm not sure I like your tone." He mumbled back.

"I'm not sure I like your plans for the night." She retorted, walking smoothly over him ans halting just when their faces were inches apart. "You're going to drag me in your apartment, get me undressed, stare as much as you like and only when you're satisfied and adequately aroused, you'll send me back to my room." She said in a titillating voice, sliding one of her arms behind his neck. "I say it's not fair."

"Well, I don't have to perform tomorrow." He pointed out, tentatively wrapping his hands behind her back. He dropped his cane to do that, which dully thumped on the ground. "I can enjoy myself, on my own, as much as I like." He told her, trying to mimic her voice, with much less result.

"What makes you think that once I get back in my apartment, I won't have fun on my own as well?" She retorted with a smirk, crooking up her eyebrow. The man clearly wasn't expecting that, and his blank expression only made her viciously smile.

Colette rose on her tiptoes, drawing her body closer to his. She started to glide allusively against his knee until she felt his hold growing firmer, the distance between them easily gone. She gripped his shoulders and heaved herself up, sitting on his lap.

Vandevere could feel the heat reverberating from her body, rather pleasantly too in one particular spot. Her skin was glimmering due to the sweat, her bosom rising and falling madly as she breathed, hitting his chest with a rhythmic pace.

His greedy hands dropped easily and grouped up the thin fabric of her robe, his fingers squeezing without losing any time at the rounded flesh of her behind.

Colette grazed her teeth around his ear as she moved teasingly above him, the welcoming friction only smothered by the layers of fabric that separated them.

"Cherie," He grunted, his voice husky. "If you're planning on ruining your performance, tomorrow-"

"It's only going to make it better." She replied, cutting him off almost instantly.

Vandevere swallowed the lump in his throat. She was moving so slowly and so closer that it was getting uncomfortable to remain seated like that.

"Then I suggest taking this to my apartments." He grinned, detaching from her enough to throw a mischievous glance at her, to which she answered with a matching smirk. "I shall inspect your looks from a different, horizontal position."

Colette struggled not to roll her eyes. If that was the man's best effort to sound seductive, it was disappointing, and yet she knew it was the best she could get. She dug her fingers between his short hair and tugged, forcing him to tilt slightly back his head.

"As long as you won't just stare." She whispered, her breath crashing on his open mouth.

Vandevere grinned again, his whole body fidgeting in anticipation.

"I wouldn't dare, cherie."