Page 118 of Stroked by (Stroked)
Yeah, I can’t help the sneer that appears on my face as I look her up and down. It’s a territorial thing that takes over me. I can deal with the occasional touches here and there, and the fake smile Reese has to put on when he’s around the evil wench, but her calling him baby, that doesn’t sit well.
It doesn’t sit so well that I fake a yawn and knock her in the ribs.
I’m not proud of it, but I do feel a little better.
She buckles over and then snaps her head in my direction. Her eyes speak murder.
I cover my mouth. “Oops, I’m sorry Bellini, did I hit you?”
She doesn’t acknowledge me, instead she turns to Jasper and says, “Did you get that on tape? I’m suing for battery.”
Jasper rolls his eyes. “It was an accident, now start cheering again.”
Relieved Jasper doesn’t take any of her shit, I turn back to the race where Reese is swimming his last lap of butterfly. As desired, he has a significant lead going into the next stroke.
Clasping my hands together, I focus in on the one man who’s stolen my heart in the past month. From the moment he entered the photo shoot in a leopard-print Speedo, when he bumped my shoulder at the beach, to when he took me up against my bedroom wall and showed me how a real man takes care of his woman, he’s captivated me. I’ve fallen for him so incredibly hard.
The 400m Individual Medley is the longest race Reese will compete in, and I’m feeling its length now as I wait on bated breath for him to finish each stroke. It’s thrilling, nerve-racking, and heart stopping as the swimmers battle for the lead. I know it’s just the first heat, but I still have my entire heart out on the line, begging him to be first, hoping and praying he makes it to the finals. I’m invested, wholeheartedly invested in his dreams.
Rounding out the last stretch, Reese plows through the water with his freestyle stroke, his legs kicking rapidly behind him, and his tattoo peeking out of the water with every rotation.
He’s closing in just as Melony grabs my hand. The minute his fingers touch the wall before everyone else, we both cheer while raising our clasped hands together. Bellini joins in for about five seconds and then sits down in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest.
I don’t even bother to listen to her complains about how her feet already hurt from standing or how she can feel the chlorine from the pool start to eat away at her porcelain skin. No, my attention is on the man whose swim cap is now in his hand and his hair is an unruly mess of black curls. Looking up in my direction he points and I nearly faint from the smile plastered across his face.
Oh, fuck. I have it so bad for him.
***
This isn’t a good idea. Iknowit’s not a good idea—I can feel it in my bones—but I don’t care at this point. I need to see him. I need to feel him. I need to run my hands up under his shirt and caress his soft and smooth skin.
I twist my hands in front of me while I wait in the Olympic Aquatics Stadium corridor. He sent me a text when he got back to the locker room to meet him in this spot because according to him, he needed to “be deep inside me.”
He is right, athletes do have a high libido, and hell, I think it’s rubbed off on me, because every chance I can get, I’m pulling my panties down for him, even if it is over the phone. And every time, I climaxed with pure pleasure running through me. Doesn’t matter if he is touching me or if it is the deep tone of his melodic voice floating over my body. It doesn’t take much when he’s involved.
Melony and Ruby are sent back to the hotel while I come up with an excuse about scouting all the local venues in the area for Fiji water. I don’t know if Bellini buys it but I really don’t care.
“Great race, Reese,” I hear someone call out. “Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Reese’s voice booms through my body. He’s close.
I’m jumping out of my skin with anticipation. I can feel him close in and just when I don’t think I can take it anymore, Reese opens the door to the room I’m in and shuts it behind him quickly, his eyes searing me in half.
With a smile, he grabs the back of his neck and says, “Hey, baby.”
Not even answering him, I leap into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. He catches me easily, holds the back of my head with his palm, and presses his lips against mine. There is no finesse in our kiss, just urgency as our tongues mate and our hands explore. Just like I wanted, I run my hands up his shirt and play with the contours and divots of his stomach, loving the way his freshly showered skin feels under my touch.
Moaning into his mouth, I press deeper, feeling his arousal against my center. Like the horny little woman I am, I rub my pussy against his length, creating an unbelievable friction that has my gut clenching in seconds and my toes curling.
“Oh God, I’ve missed you,” I whisper along his lips, right before his hand digs into my hair, holding me still so he can make small nips along my neck, causing goosebumps up and down my arms.
“I’ve missed you so damn much,” he mutters in between kisses, working his way down to my collarbone. “I need this shirt off.”
“Reese, this is not the best place—”
“Now, Paisley.”
Not one to argue when Reese wants me to take my clothes off, I reach between us, grab the hem of my shirt and take it off, tossing it to the floor. Spinning us so my back is up against a wall, he takes the cups of my bra and pulls them down, exposing my breasts to his feasting mouth. Without taking a second to breathe, his mouth pulls on my right nipple, sucking it in fast and hard.
