Page 42 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“Got a thing for Bodi?” His voice is terse.
“How can you not? His eyes are beautiful, all dark and sinister like. And his body . . . it’s like someone sculpted it—”
“We can talk about something else.” His terse comment sends me into a fit of laughter. He nods his head in acknowledgement to my teasing. “You’re so fucking funny, Paisley.”
My puppy is passed out and so is Reese’s. I bring mine up to my chest and cuddle it as he does the same. He scoots next to me so we are both looking at the ocean, a familiar position. His shoulder nearly grazes mine and his fresh scent still wafts in my direction, causing me to lustfully yearn for him.
“Not very good at taking jokes?” I ask once my giggles subside.
“No, I can handle a joke just fine. I just don’t like the girl I’m going after to be talking about some other man. Kind of want all of her attention.”
I shake my head in exasperation; the man is relentless.
***
“Thanks for breakfast and the puppy play date. I’m going to have to go there again,” I say as Reese pulls up next to my car.
“Anytime, Paisley. Hope you learned something at my training session.”
“Yeah, like I never want to be a swimmer ever.”
He chuckles. “It’s not that bad. I’m at the end of my hard training. Coach was pushing me today. I’m glad he did, as I got to show off in front of a girl I’m trying to impress.”
I take a deep breath, “Reese . . .”
Before I can finish, he leans forward and captures my hand with his, twisting our fingers together. I stare at our connection, wondering why I’m letting him hold my hand, why I’m not pulling away, why for the first time in my life, it feels so freaking right to be held by a man.
“Paisley, have dinner with me tonight.” His eyes are pleading.
I shake my head. “I can’t, Reese.”
“Why not?”
His thumb rubs against the top of my hand, grazing my knuckles with tenderness as his voice vibrates through me, searching for an answer.
“I work for you and Bellini, Reese. It’s not right.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He leans forward even more. “We would be so fucking right.”
Stealing a glance up at him, I see the need in his eyes, the yearning, the promises of how right we really would be together. My nerve endings start to ignite with lust. It would be so easy to give in, to let him take me back to his place, to allow myself the pleasure of getting lost in Reese King, but then I think about Jonathan and what he told me the first day I got back from my new job. I need this job, and I can’t do anything to forfeit it.
I shake my head and pull my hand away, disconnecting the flow of heat between us. “No, I can’t Reese. This has to remain professional. I’m sorry.”
I open my door just as Reese calls my name. “Paisley, wait.”
Not wanting to hear what he has to say, I shut the door on him and get in my car, never looking back. Because if I look back, I know it will be all over. I will give in.
Even though everything in my body is telling me to get back in his car and accept his invitation to dinner, to relish in the feeling of having Reese King wrapped around me, I hold out. I hold strong. I cling to that last tiny thread that’s holding me back from plunging deep into the world of Reese King.
Chapter Eleven
**BELLINI**
“I’m drowning. Water is in my lungs. Someone help,” I call out, flapping around in the water, wondering why Reese is just floating next to me, not doing anything. “Man-fish, why don’t you save me?”
“Because you’re not drowning, Bellini. You’re perfectly fine, and if you don’t stop acting like a drama queen, we will never get through this. Kick your feet and propel yourself across the pool.”
“It’s too tiring, and the rubber flowers on my swim cap are starting to wilt,” I whine, not in the mood to play Flipper for the camera.
