Page 59 of Stroked by (Stroked)
She shakes her head, her wavy hair falling over her face. “Not a problem at all.”
“Good.”
I lean down and kiss her, so fucking happy I feel like I can burst. A pleased moan escapes as my tongue finds hers again. My body’s not quite ready for round two, but I don’t mind playing around until I am.
She pushes me away for a second and points her finger at me. “You have to be quiet, mister. I can’t have Jonathan hearing us.”
Fuck I forgot about her roommate.
“I was quiet.”
“You were the last thing from being quiet with your sexy groans, banging of the headboard, and shouting my name at the end.”
I raise a rakish eyebrow at her. “And you’re complaining about that? Shall I shout someone else’s name?”
“No.” She laughs.
“Then deal with it. You make me lose control, I’m not ashamed.”
“You will be when Jonathan comes flying into my bedroom ready to pummel your ass.”
“I’m not scared,” I say before kissing her neck, working my way back down to her breasts.
She wiggles under me, goosebumps popping up over her skin. “Who knew you were a screamer? Such a vocal man.”
I laugh against her skin. “Never was until you, baby.”
***
I feel amazing. I actually feel like I have some sort of super-human strength, and not just from the glorious fucking I had last night with Paisley, but because of the bed I got the best sleep of my life in.
I shift away from the sun beating down on me and reach for Paisley who is nowhere to be found. Opening my eyes, I look around to find her room empty, the only thing taking up her place is the bright sun reflecting off every surface in her room.
Groaning, I roll to the side of the bed and look at her phone to see what time it is.
Seven thirty.
I groan some more and rub my eyes with the palm of my hands. Thankfully I don’t have to be in the pool this morning for a workout. I have some training to complete today, just to keep my muscles loose, but nothing that required me to be up at the ass-crack of dawn.
From the living room, I can hear Paisley’s voice as well as a man’s. Must be Jonathan. I need to find out more about this roommate.
He better be gay.
Paisley’s laugh draws closer to her bedroom door and I can hear her say, “Put some clothes on, you’re going to be late for work.”
Put some clothes on? Yeah, I don’t like the sound of that. Motherfucker better be really gay.
The bedroom door opens and Paisley slips in, holding a cup of coffee. She’s wearing that damn tank top again and a pair of very short pajama shorts. From my vantage point, I can tell she’s not wearing a bra.
Seriously, Jonathan better be the gayest man on the planet.
I sit up in bed, the comforter falling down to my waist, showing off my six-pack, giving Paisley quite the show. She turns to face me, her hair all kinds of messed up, and a freshly fucked look in her eyes.
“Hey you.” She smiles and saunters toward me.
“Hey baby,” I reply, scooting over, making some room for her.
“Sticking with that baby thing?” she asks, handing me the coffee and sitting down so she’s facing me.
