STROKED (The Stroked Series Book 1)

  Once out of sight, Paisley gives me the death glare, and I wonder if she’s actually going to step foot in my room. Instead of playing the doe-eyed guy who shies away from her anger, I egg her on, wanting her to take it out on me.

  “Get in my room,” I say sternly.

  “Excuse me?” One of her eyebrows shoots up in question.

  “You heard me, get in my room and don’t make me say it again.”

  Her posture wavers from retreating to joining me, and I just pray she chooses the latter. I’ve been waiting—quite impatiently—for her to arrive so I can get lost in her body.

  With a stern look in her eyes, she stomps into my room. “You have some nerve.”

  My door can’t shut fast enough. It swings quickly into place, causing the walls to rattle, and Paisley’s eyes to widen in shock. Before she can get out another word, I cup her face with one of my hands while the other pushes her against the wall of the entryway of my room. Her breath catches in her chest from surprise right before my lips capture hers with a greedy need.

  Right when I’m settling in, tasting every inch of her mouth, she shoves me away, extending her arms between us but not putting much distance between our faces.

  I glance down at the space she put between us, and then back up at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Her breathing is a little ragged and even though she is calling a timeout, I can still see the lust in her eyes. “Why are you acting like some alpha male plucked straight from a romance novel?”

  “Acting like?” I give her a quizzical lift to my brow. “Baby, I’m a one-hundred-percent born and bred alpha male. It’s about time you accept that.”

  Swiftly, I scoop her up in my arms and bring her over to my king-sized bed. I lay her down and don’t give her time to try to change her mind of going anywhere. With both my hands, I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly lift it over my head, giving her a show, knowing full well my sweats are resting very low on my hips. I toss my shirt to the side and look down at her.

  Her lips are recently moistened, her eyes are glued to my chest, and she is taking me in with a devious glare to her eyes.

  I place my knee between her legs and move over her body, pressing her into the mattress. Her hair fans out behind her, filling the bed with her black waves.

  “I didn’t think I could wait any longer for you to show up tonight,” I admit, working my hand under her shirt until she’s forced to take it off. To my delight, she is wearing a red lace bra that pushes her breasts up to mouth-watering proportions. Her stomach is taut underneath my hand, flexing under my movements, wavering with nerves as I move south to undo her jean shorts.

  “And why’s that?” she asks, her voice breathless.

  Removing her shorts reveals a matching thong. I pull away and rub my jaw as I say, “Because I’m in desperate need to fuck you until the early morning light.” My fingers graze the waistband of the thong, loving the way her skin looks with the vibrant color. “Fuck, Paisley. You’re so damn sexy.”

  A devastating grin crosses her face as she sits up and then stands in front of me. My hands instinctively fall to her ass where I caress her bare skin, loving the achingly beautiful curves of her petite body.

  Grabbing my hands from behind her, she guides me over to a chair and forces me to sit. From the bed, she plays on my phone until music starts to play. A slow, seductive melody plays through the speakers. To amplify the sound, she places my phone in a cup so the music reverberates off the glass.

  Her body sways back and forth while she gathers her hair and brings it over her shoulder. Leaning forward, she places both hands on my shoulders and straddles my waist, her breasts coming close to eye level.

  I’m already hard as fuck so when her hips start grinding on me, I know she can feel my arousal. There is no question there. Methodically, so her nails scrape along my skin. She runs her hands to the back of my neck where she holds on tightly, moving slowly against my hips. My hands fall to her ass, loving the way her movements make my hands rise and fall on her skin, creating an erotic caress.

  Even though she set her hair to one side, it doesn’t stay contained with the sway of her head. Instead, it tickles along my arm and rests over her shoulder, cascading down like a midnight waterfall. Not able to contain my eagerness, I release one hand from her ass and glide it up her back until I reach the clasp of her bra. With precision, I release the clasp, springing her bra open. She doesn’t even take a second to think about it, she slides the straps down until they are completely off her, revealing her full breasts.

  “Christ,” I murmur, letting her bring them closer to my head where I take one into my mouth. I play with the barbell of her nipple while she writhes on my lap, still gripping to the back of my head. “You make me so fucking hard, Paisley.”

  Like a wave in the ocean, her body moves against mine—grinding, thrusting—enticing me until I don’t think I can take it anymore. I try to take in her other nipple but she stops me and pulls away, leaving my lap aroused and ready.

  Smiling, she stands in front of me and pulls down her thong, dropping it to the floor and exposing her naked body completely to me. It takes everything in me not to tackle her to the floor and fuck her right there on the spot. She leans forward, her breasts swaying with her movements and pulls on the waistband of my shorts. Knowing exactly where she wants them, I help her remove them, exposing my sprung cock. Lucky for me, I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  Turning in place, she sits down on my lap so her back is to my chest. Her hand wanders between our legs where she grips my cock, lifts up, and then inserts me inside her tight, wet pussy.

  “Fuuuuck,” I breathe out.

  She grips the back of my neck from behind her as an anchor and starts to work her hips up and down on my length. Needing to watch the way her form works against mine, I move my head forward so I’m looking over her shoulder directly at her rocking body.

  Moving my hands from her hips, I gradually glide them up her stomach. I love how her breathing picks up with every inch north. I grip her breasts, rolling her nipple rings in between my fingers. I kiss her shoulder, needing more contact with her, wishing her lips were on mine, our tongues tangled together.

  “Yes,” she hums, grinding her hips faster against mine. “Harder, Reese. Pinch my nipples harder.”

  Happy to do what my girl needs, I squeeze the nubs harder, tearing a crazed moan out of her. The grip on the back of my neck becomes tighter, and her head turns to the side just enough that my lips find hers.

  She’s riding me, like a fucking champ, her tongue is diving into my mouth frantically searching for release. My hands continue to assault her nipples, the feel of them driving me harder and closer to orgasm. The slap of our bodies echo in the room, and I can’t think of anything more erotic than Paisley’s body thrusting against mine, bringing us both to the point of pleasure.

  “Oh God,” she moans into my mouth. Her hips begin to move even faster.

  Her lips take a break as her breathing becomes more labored. Her core tightens around me, gripping me like a motherfucking vise, squeezing me to the point that my balls draw in. My entire body turns numb, and there is only one source of feeling in my body: where I’m connected to Paisley.

  Leaning forward, she places her hands on the armrests and rocks harder on my cock, screaming my name. “Reese, yes, God, yes.”

  My hands hold on to her hips, guiding them along, and I feel the moment when she loses all control. Her head falls back—her hair tickling my stomach—and she calls out to whoever wants to fucking listen that she’s coming.

  Her pussy clenches me, skyrocketing me into another world where all I can do is feel. A pure, guttural groan pops out of me as I come inside her, pump after pump until I ride every last drop out of me.

  Leaning back in the chair, I bring my hand to my head in disbelief and satisfaction. How is it this fucking good with someone I’m still trying to get to know? How can I feel so fucking obsessed with another hum
an that all I want to do is spend every waking hour inside her?

  Turning on my lap, she smiles down at me and kisses my lips softly, gently cupping my face. “I love your dick.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I sure as hell hope so.”

  Wanting to spend some quiet time with her before I spread her legs again and fuck her senseless, me being in charge this time, I pick her up and take her to the bed where we lie down and face each other. Still naked, we stare into each other’s eyes, our hands clasped up by our pillows.

  “Are you excited about tomorrow?” she asks, running her fingers along the stubble of my jaw.

  “I am. I’m ready. I had a good swim when I got here so I feel blasted and ready to go.”

  Studying my beard, she says, “Is this all going to be shaved tomorrow?”

  “Yup, right before the meet. Why, are you going to miss it?”

  “I am,” she answers honestly. “It’s really sexy on you.” A shy smile pops up on her face. “Want to know something embarrassing?”

  Scooting closer and placing my hand on her waist, I say, “You take pictures of my cock while I sleep, and you’ve started a scrapbook. No need to be embarrassed, baby. All you have to do is ask, you’re more than welcome to take pictures of my penis.”

  “Never mind.” She rolls her eyes and tries to turn away, but I stop her and pepper her face with kisses.

  “Tell me what’s embarrassing.”

  She bites the corner of her mouth and looks up at me through her eyelashes. The fucking minx is killing me. I can feel myself becoming hard again. “I might have done some Internet stalking of you last night.”

  “Is that right?” I ask, perking up. “What did you find?”

  “A lot of half-naked pictures of you.”

  “Yeah? Any tickle your fancy? Give yourself a little diddle?”

  “Ew.” She slaps my chest. “No!”

  I squeeze her side. “Come on, don’t lie to me. We should always be honest with each other. How many times did you pleasure yourself to my picture?”

  “None,” she states, offended.

  “You mean twenty, right?”

  “No, I mean none.” She laughs.

  “And why not?”

  A wicked grin spreads across her face. “Because, I was already worn out from touching myself while looking at pictures of Bodi Banks.”

  Ouch.

  Double fucking ouch.

  Bodi Banks, my one and only rival in the pool and in the looks department.

  “Damn.” I pull away, faking extreme and utter betrayal. “That hurts, Paisley. I think you should probably go back to your hotel room.”

  “Okay.” She shrugs her shoulders, calling my bluff, and starts moving off the bed.

  “Don’t even fucking think about it.” I stop her and bring her back into my chest as she giggles. I press my lips to her ear and speak to her in a gruff tone. “Now tell me, Paisley, whose pictures were you looking at?”

  “Bodi’s.” She laughs some more when I tickle her side.

  “Whose?”

  She’s out of breath as she answers. “Bodi. He’s so fine.”

  “That’s fucking it.”

  I roll on top of her and pin her hands over her head with one of mine. Her chest heaves. I lower my head to her nipple and bite down, just hard enough to get her attention.

  “Whose picture were you looking at?”

  Her hips rub against my erection but I pull away, making her pout. Normally, I don’t find a pouting woman attractive, especially Bellini but for some reason, Paisley’s pout makes me want to pull on her bottom lip with my teeth.

  “Don’t get upset with me, you’re the one causing trouble.”

  Lowering one of her arms, she rubs my jaw again in a smooth caress. I then rest my weight on her. I frame her face with my arms, setting up on my elbows.

  “Do you want to know why I was stalking you?”

  I think about it for a second and answer, “Because you like to stare at human perfection?”

  She rolls her eyes, making me chuckle. “No, because I wanted to see what you looked like without your beard. I wanted to prepare myself.”

  “Oh yeah? And what did you think?” I kiss her nose lightly.

  Her eyes close from the affection and then open, sparkling at me. “I thought you looked hot. Makes me wonder what you would feel like between my legs.”

  I can’t even try to hide my thrilled smile. “All right.” I nod. “So, I have to ask. Am I hotter with or without the beard?”

  “What would you do if I said without?”

  “Never grow it out again,” I answer honestly.

  “Well, good thing I’m a rugged beard kind of girl.”

  “Is that so? Your boyfriend Bodi Banks doesn’t have a beard.”

  “He doesn’t need one. He’s just the epitome of sex, so he doesn’t need little tricks like a full-grown beard to make him look sexy.”

  I know we’re joking, but a part of me wants to rip Bodi’s dick off right about now.

  “You’re about two seconds from getting spanked,” I warn.

  “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

  “We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

  Quickly, before she can move out of the way, I roll her over and pin her against the bed. She’s laughing . . . that’s until my hand falls with a slap across her ass, quieting her before a low, erotic moan is heard.

  My dick grows to exponential length. Out of curiosity, I slip my hand between her legs and press my fingers against her tight hole. I glide right in from her arousal.

  “Fucking hell, baby. Did that turn you on?”

  Her hips move against my hand. “More than you know,” she whispers.

  Shit.

  This woman is going to be the death of me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  **PAISLEY**

  I feel like I’m going to throw up. Reese left this morning, after thoroughly exploring my body with his tongue . . . with a giant smile on his face and more confidence than I’ve ever seen. He wasn’t at all nervous, not even a tiny bit. But here I am, about to walk into CenturyLink Center in Omaha, sweating profusely and with a pile of nerves in my stomach.

  This is his last chance at the gold, and this is only the trials. I don’t follow swimming. I know, shame on me. I should at least for the bare-chested men prancing around in spandex, that’s an added bonus. With my lack of knowledge, I’m unsure who the top contenders are and if Reese has a definite chance of making it or if he’s going to slip in by the skin of his teeth . . . or should I say fingertips?

  Dressed in white shorts, red Converse, and a blue USA shirt, I clench my purse at my side and walk to the venue. The steel and glass structure of the CenturyLink Center is quite impressive, standing at an extraordinary height, almost intimidating. From the outside, you can tell this is a venue where dreams are made, and where dreams are crushed.

  My goal is to find Bellini and Reese but the media room is deep in the depths of the building, causing me to flash my badge to everyone who asks just to get to where Bellini is interviewing with Reese. Last night, Reese was irritated with his commitment to show up with Bellini today. He felt cheap, like a sellout, and hated every aspect of it. I wasn’t going to tell him that he was a sellout. I didn’t think it would go over well. I understand his reasoning for signing; he was preparing for life after the pool.

  Luckily, I wasn’t needed right away so I slept in while Reese prepared for the day. He left before I even tried to unglue my eyes. He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek and left me a note on the bedside.

  Good morning, baby. Can’t wait for you to watch me secure a spot on the team today. I plan on having multiple celebratory fucks with you tonight so make sure you eat some protein today. Your tits will be pictured in my head as my end goal, first to the wall means first to your sexy-as-fuck nipples.

  xxxx--->o (That’s me kissing you and then fucking your hole. You’re welcome) - R

  Not
the most eloquent man, but it sure as hell got me excited for tonight.

  Lucky me.

  I didn’t have to get to the venue early, but unfortunately, Melony did, being the one who had to do Bellini’s hair and makeup for the event. Poor girl. Aww. To live the rich life where you sit in a chair and everyone else does the hard work around you. On the plane, Melony shared that Bellini is the worst person to do hair and makeup for. Not because she won’t stop playing Candy Crush Saga on her phone, and not because she has to work around Pope Francis. No. Apparently, Miss Prim and Proper is not quite the classy debutante she tries to portray herself as. Bellini has some serious morning gas. When I heard that, I could not stop giggling.

  I walk down a narrow hallway, full of bustling people with many jobs to do. Shoulders bump into mine, people cut me off, and camera flashes go off in my eyes, shooting off test shots. From a distance, I can see a white backdrop and a plethora of media correspondents huddled around, including Bellini’s camera crew.

  Bingo!

  I approach the set-up but am quickly stopped by a large man with no hair but enough tattoos on his head to make up for the cue-ball look.

  “Ma’am, only authorized personnel are allowed.”

  I flash him my badge and start to walk past him but he stops me again.

  “That doesn’t grant you access into this room.”

  “What?” I say, looking down at my badge. “I’m Bellini Chambers’s personal assistant. I’m pretty sure that should grant me access to anything.”

  “Not in here it doesn’t.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I say, a little frustrated. This is all I need, to not be allowed into the room where Bellini will call out for a Tic Tac and then fire me because I’m not around to toss one in her mouth like a trained seal—by no fault of my own of course.

  “No, you don’t have the media box checked on your pass.”

  “But it says all access. To me, that means all access . . . to everything, including the media room.”