Page 130 of Stroked by (Stroked)
Fuck, I hate him so damn much.
“Paisley, it’s not what you think.”
Why does that sound so incredibly wrong? When you hear that phrase, it’s usually attached to someone being caught in the act of cheating with another person. That is far from the truth in this situation.
She shakes her head. “Whatever, fight if you want. I will be in my room.”
This was not how I wanted my first interaction with her to be. I was kind of hoping more of a passionate embrace, maybe a leap in the air where I would catch her only to have her legs wrap around my waist. I’d carry her off to her bedroom and make love to her until the sun comes up. But instead, I see her retreating backside in black pants and a black Denny’s shirt.
Hell.
“Looks like you have some explaining to do.” Jonathan chuckles under his breath.
“You’re a dick.” I start to walk past him, but he pauses my pursuit with a hand to my chest.
Looking me square in the eyes, he says, “I don’t like you, but I respect you. You’re a man of your word, and I can tell you care about her. For her, I will get along with you, but do not hurt her. Got it?”
“You don’t have to keep reminding me. I have no intention of breaking her heart.” I look past his shoulder and then meet his eyes again. “But I will chop your dick off if I ever see it naked when I’m around. Pack it up, dude, your naked shows are over.”
A smile caresses his lips as he lets me by, giving me my much-needed time with Paisley.
When I walk into her room and shut her door silently, she’s on her bed, her hands wringing on her lap in a nervous twitch. Her silver-colored eyes look up at me, and I’m slayed in half from the vulnerability resting in them.
“Hey,” she says weakly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” I say, feeling a little nervous myself. It’s almost awkward, the tension between us. Only a few weeks ago, we couldn’t get enough of each other but the distance between us now is noticeable. Do I go up to her and hug her? Am I allowed to kiss her? Does she even want me to kiss her? After all this time, does she still have feelings for me?
“Listen, Reese . . .” She starts but then pauses, so I continue for her.
“Is there something between you and Jonathan?” Not the way I wanted to start this conversation, but before I lay my heart out on the line, I need to make sure she doesn’t harbor feelings for the man. Before she can answer, I add, “I ask because he told me about the conversation you two had. He told me about his feelings and even though it pains me, if there is any inkling you might want to be with him, I need to know now.”
She stands from the bed and walks over to me, tentatively. Shaking her head, she says, “I don’t have feelings for him, Reese.”
“You sure about that?”
Nodding, she takes one step closer. I can tell she’s nervous. Tears fill her eyes and my heart breaks. Without even a second thought, I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her, shielding her from the outside world.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries. “I’m so sorry I left you and messed with your head during your last Olympics. I didn’t have a choice, and I didn’t want your name dragged through the mud. I did what I thought was best, but I feel like I messed everything up.”
“Shh,” I coo in her ear. “You didn’t mess everything up.”
“Yes, I did.” She pulls away so I can see her tear-streaked face. “We haven’t talked in weeks, and you’ve been home for at least two. I get it, Reese, I ruined everything.”
I chuckle. I can’t help it, which causes her cute little nose to scrunch up. “Paisley, if you messed everything up, would I be here in your room, holding you, on the verge of losing my damn mind if my lips aren’t on yours in the next few seconds?”
“What?” Her brow creases, but I don’t answer her. I capture her face with my hands and bring her lips to mine, soaking in the little confused mews coming out of her as my tongue searches for hers.
She opens her mouth as her arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in close, letting our bodies melt together.
Do I want to fuck this woman? Yes. Do I want to make love to this woman? More than anything. But right now, kissing her intimately, not aggressively, just enough pressure to let her know how much I’ve missed her is enough for me. There is something to be said about making out with someone you’re in love with. It isn’t some frantic need that leads to tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is something different, a connection that goes deeper than any frantic fuck up against a wall.
Wanting to be closer, I move us to her bed where I lay her down gently and then straddle her body, my arms framing her face. I pull away for a second and look down at her, at the contrast of her dark hair to her light eyes and the way her beautiful skin helps them pop in color.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” From my compliment her cheeks blush and in that moment, I can’t contain myself. “I love you, Paisley.”
Her mouth falls open and then turns into a smile. Her hand rubs the scruff on my jaw and she says, “I love you so much, Reese.”
Everything in me bursts with pure joy from those first six little words. Slowly, I lean down and place a soft kiss on her lips, barely a whisper of a connection, but just enough that she knows the kind of emotion I’m feeling. This woman is everything to me.
