STROKED (The Stroked Series Book 1)

  I can feel my face heat up and my ears turn red from embarrassment. I hate to admit it but he’s right. Breakfast was a flick and almost lunch was a headbutt, so I pretty much try to damage this man around any type of food.

  I shake my head. “I’m so sorry.”

  He chuckles. “You know I’m kidding.” He pauses and then says, “But seriously, do you plan on kneeing me in the junk? A little warning would be appreciated.”

  “No.” I laugh. “I don’t have kneeing you in the junk in my schedule.”

  “All right.” He nods. “You’ll let me know if it ever shows up, right? I mean it’s the least you can do after the last two attacks.”

  “I promise.”

  Our order is called and Reese tells me to stay seated while he stands to grab our breakfasts. Before he left the pool, he changed into a pair of athletic shorts, a plain black shirt, and a black backwards hat. He’s very casual, yet with the way his shirtsleeves cling to his biceps, or how his shorts encase his butt—showing off how perfectly round it is—he is sexy as hell. His tattoo extends from this shirtsleeve down his arm showing that even though he might dress like a teenage boy with a backwards hat, he’s still very much a man.

  Two trays are placed at our table. One has my cereal concoction with a bottle of water and the other has a breakfast burrito, two fruit kabobs, yogurt with granola, and a bottle of water. Reese wasn’t kidding when he said he ate a lot of food.

  “Got enough food over there?” I ask, pouring my milk onto my cereal, my mouth watering over the not-so healthy breakfast I’m about to partake in.

  “Hopefully.” He smirks then takes a look at my tray. “How’s your bowl of sugar?”

  I’m mid spoon to my mouth when I pause. With a questioning look on my face, I ask, “Are you judging my breakfast?”

  “No, not at all.” He holds up his hands. “Don’t knee me in the junk.”

  “Ha, ha,” I deadpan just before I put my first scoop of sugary goodness in my mouth. “Mmm . . .” I moan, then realize I’m in public, sitting in front of a very attractive man.

  His mouth is slightly agape, his eyes heady, and his shoulders tense. “I’ve never been more jealous of a bowl of cereal in my life.”

  “Reese . . .” I warn.

  “What?” He smirks at me through his eyelashes while he gathers his burrito in his hand. “You’re fucking sexy, especially when you moan like that. We should try it out in bed some time.”

  “Reese!” I hiss, leaning forward and scanning the place to see if anyone can hear our conversation. “I’m your assistant.”

  He shrugs. “Technicality.” Taking a big bite of his burrito, he just smiles at me as I start to sweat. I should have known he’d be persistent. Maybe I should have knocked him harder in the forehead yesterday.

  “So, you like looking at my body, huh?” he asks nonchalantly, as if we’re just talking about the weather.

  I choke on some milk and take a sip of my water, trying to steady the cough that is taking over. “What?”

  “You like looking at my body. Nothing to be ashamed of. I noticed you ogling me at the pool deck.”

  “I wasn’t . . . ogling you,” I whisper, not wanting anyone to hear our conversation, apparently Reese couldn’t care less.

  “Please,” he takes another bite of his burrito and talks with his mouth full, “I saw the way you perused my body. You were blowing kisses the whole time at me.”

  I straighten up from the blatant lie. “No, I wasn’t. You were the one blowing kisses at me.” My voice rises and catches the attention of George.

  “Is there a problem over here?” he asks, mirth in his voice.

  Mortified, I sink down in my booth seat. Reese just laughs as he continues to shovel his breakfast in his mouth, barely taking a moment to breathe.

  “I hate you,” I say timidly as I scoop some more cereal into my spoon.

  “No, you don’t.” He winks and then offers me a piece of his fruit kabob. “Kabob?”

  I glare at him. “Don’t try to suck up to me now with your stick of fruit.”

  He brings the kabob to his mouth and pulls off a strawberry with his teeth and says, “If I were to suck up to you, I wouldn’t be offering you a stick, I would be offering you a log.” The sexual innuendo is heavy, and I gulp thinking back to when he took off his towel in front of me and I saw the base of his thick penis. Yup, he would be offering me a log all right.

  “Thinking about my cock?” he asks, taking another bite of his kabob.

  “What? No. Why would you ask that?” My ears are flaming with heat right about now.

  Casually, he spreads his legs and leans back in his chair. His curly hair wraps around the sides of his hat and even though he’s grinning at me, with his dark beard covering his hard jawline, he still has a sinister look about him.

  He points at my spoon that’s halfway to my mouth. “Because I said log and then you stopped feeding yourself and your eyes became all hazy. You paused for a good couple of seconds. The only reason I can come up with is you’re thinking about my cock.”

  I shake my head. “Awfully full of yourself today, aren’t you?”

  “Just letting you know where I stand.”

  “And where’s that?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  Leaning forward, his hazel eyes connect with mine, light flecks of gold amidst green. “I think you’re sexy as fuck, Paisley. I want to get to know you more, and I want to get you into my bed, fuck you until you scream my name at least three times.”

  Oh God. My face is burning up, my body feels numb, and there is a steady pulse in my clit just from the words that deliciously rolled off his tongue.

  I try to tamp down the fangirl cheering for me, repeating his words over and over in my head. He thinks I’m sexy. Reese King thinks I’m sexy.

  I almost want to pinch myself.

  “Your cereal is getting soggy.” He nods at my bowl. “You better finish up.”

  And then that’s it, he continues to eat his smorgasbord, and I’m left feeling turned on, horny as hell, and wondering why he won’t let up, despite my tireless attempts to reject him. I don’t have much strength where he’s concerned.

  After we finish breakfast, Reese guides me out of the quaint restaurant that I’ll definitely return to. I start toward where we parked, but he has different plans as he pulls on my elbow and directs me down the street toward the beach.

  “Where are we going? The car is back there,” I say while pointing behind us.

  “I’m well aware of where the car is. It’s not going to kill you to spend some more time with me. Chalk it up to getting to know your boss.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of. The more I get to know Reese, the more I’m drawn to him. I’ve never really been in the market to find a man. I’d always been career driven, and if a man came along during my journey, I had some fun. But with Reese, it almost seems like he could make me think of more than just a career. He makes me think of a future, a family, a life partner to spend my days with, and that terrifies me, because even though Reese might be the perfect man for me, I’m most likely not the perfect woman for him. He would probably end up breaking my heart, which then in return, would once again leave me without a job.

  It’s so not a good idea to get involved with him.

  But . . .

  Ugh, he’s so. . . so everything

  Hold strong, Paisley.

  I’m pulled out of my thoughts when a plethora of little barks grow louder. Looking to the side, I see a little gated area on the beach full of puppies.

  “What’s this?” I ask as Reese walks me to the fenced-in area.

  “Want to play with some puppies?” he asks, a spark in his eyes.

  Oh hell . . .

  A man who wants to play with puppies. A hot man with bulging muscles—and a tree trunk for a dick—wants to play with puppies. And my resolve is paper-thin right about now.

  “Hey Reese, how’s it going?” an older lad
y with a sun hat and a charming smile asks. “I’m glad you’re able to come down today.”

  “Hey Rita.” Reese wraps his arm around her and gives her a side hug. “I brought a friend with me today.”

  “Fantastic.” Rita hands Reese a clipboard. “You know the drill, sign and date, and if you want to make a donation to the shelter, please feel free to do so.”

  Reese signs and hands her the clipboard just as he’s pulling his wallet out. “You know I always make a donation.” Searching through his wallet, he pulls out two one-hundred-dollar bills and hands them over. “Here Rita. Did you guys get the shipment of dog food the other day?”

  “We did. Thank you so much. Your generosity has been so valuable and appreciated. Are you sure we can’t put your name in the newsletter?”

  “Keep it anonymous.” He winks and then rubs his hands together. “All right, who do we have today?”

  “Whimsy just had puppies. We think they are a poodle collie mix, not quite sure though.”

  “Is that what the fluff balls are?”

  “It is. Would you like to play with them today?”

  Turning to me, Reese asks, “What do you say? Want to play with some collie doodles?”

  “Sure,” I say, a little too excited.

  Rita smiles at both of us and goes into the pen. She picks up two dogs. One is grey with black spots, and the other is white with a black spot over the right eye. They are adorable!

  “Here are some toys, stay within the area, and bring them back when you’re done.”

  “Thanks, Rita.”

  I take the puppy with the spot over his eye and Reese takes the grey puppy. Together, we walk over to an area in the sand and take a seat. I cross my legs while Reese sprawls his long legs out in front of him, facing in my direction so we form a little bit of a closed-off area. The puppies are both energetic and instantly start biting our fingers and wrestling with our hands.

  Glancing up at Reese, I ask, “You play with puppies often?”

  “When I can. It’s relaxing.” He smirks, an evil glint in his eyes. “The shelter rescues mill dogs, you know, dogs that are used for breeding only. You should see some of the horrible things these people do to them. Breeders treat them as cattle and stuff them in cages their whole lives, giving them only six inches on all sides to live in. It’s disgusting. To raise money for the shelter’s medical bills and expenses, they bring down some of the puppies that are born in the shelter for people to play with. Individuals can make donations to play with the puppies and also learn about the shelter. I ship some food to them every month and play with the puppies when I can. Occasionally I’ll go to the shelter and help clean the kennels, but that’s rare given my schedule.” He shrugs. “I do what I can.”

  Are you swooning as well? Not only is he extremely attractive, but he has a giant heart for animals. How is a girl supposed to hold up a front when she learns about something like that?

  “Is this some ploy to get me to fall head over heels for you?”

  “Is it working?”

  “No,” I answer quickly even though my mind is screaming yes.

  Playfully, he pushes his foot against my knee, a huge grin on his face. “Liar.”

  He caught me, but there is no way in hell I’ll let him know that. Trying to move past the heated tension between us, I ask, “So you play with puppies, but you don’t have one?”

  “Not yet. After I retire I’ll get a dog. I want to be able to devote time to him, make sure he’s loved. Right now, I spend so much time training and traveling, I would feel guilty not being around.”

  I chuckle. “After you retire, sounds so funny coming from a thirty-year-old. Are you looking forward to it all being over? Or are you sad?”

  Playing tug-a-war with his puppy, he sighs and answers. “I have mixed feelings. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been in a pool, training. I think it will be weird to just stop it all, but it will also be nice to focus on other things.”

  “Like what?” My puppy has his mouth wrapped around my finger but is starting to drift off to sleep. Adorable.

  “It will be nice to hold more camps for inner city kids, to help out at the Boys and Girls Club with Bodi.”

  “Bodi Banks?” I ask, referring to Reese’s biggest competition to date. “I thought you guys didn’t like each other.”

  “You shouldn’t pay close attention to what the media says. Bodi and I get along just fine. Do I want to rip his arms off sometimes, especially during the Games? Yup, but he’s a good guy. He’s a little more closed off, quiet at times, but still a good guy.”

  “Interesting.” I smile and say, “He’s hot.”

  Reese stares at me, a look of dislike across his features, clearly not happy with my comment. It’s just the reaction I was looking for. I’m learning I like pushing his buttons.

  “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 dinn
er, 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.

  “Bellini, we need one more shot of you going down the pool with Reese,” Jasper calls out from the pool deck.

  “Just one more lap down. Come on, Bellini, just do this and you’re done. I have a photo shoot I still have to do with Hollis and Bodi. Everyone is waiting.”

  Frustrated with this entire “segment” for the show and Reese’s inability to sympathize, I grab hold of the concrete wall so I can easily prop my head above water. “What the hell have you incompetent camera men been doing this entire time? I’ve been swimming for the past half hour, my entire body looks like a dried-up raisin, and I’m sure I’ve increased the chances of having skin cancer under this melting sun by at least fifty percent. You’re telling me you need my tired-out and chlorine-chapped body to float down this ringworm-infested pool one more time? What are you getting paid for?”

  Sighing, Jasper steps in front of me and squats down to my level. “Bellini, remember what we talked about? What Jonathan reiterated? The longer you keep us here with your dramatic antics, the more you will get charged for holding up production.”

  Tears threaten to fall. How dare he!

  “Don’t cry,” he says in a calming voice. “I understand you’re tired and hot and want to get out of the pool, but this piece will be great for ratings. We can do the gym portion another day. Let’s just get you going down the pool one more time. Can you do that?”