STROKED (The Stroked Series Book 1)
Nostrils flared in annoyance, I sit back on the lounge and hate every second of this. But I know if I howl really quickly, I can dare him to let me finish, so sucking up my pride and self-respect, I tilt my head back and howl.
“Aaarrrrrooooooo!” Heat washes over me from embarrassment as Reese claps his hands together and laughs . . . erection still present. I really dislike him right now.
Poking him in the chest, I say, “Stop it. My turn.” He quiets down and I say, “I dare you—”
“Excuse me, I believe I get to pick truth or dare.”
“We both know you’re going to pick dare, Reese.”
“Incorrect, baby. I chose truth.” The smarmy look on his face is smack worthy right about now.
Huffing out my frustration, I say, “Fine, have you ever jacked off over visions of me?”
“Yes,” he says with heat in his eyes. “The day we saw each other at the beach, when I went to clean myself off, I jacked off so fucking hard because there was no way I would make it through lunch with you in that bikini if I didn’t.”
I’m breathless, stunned, electrically charged, so fucking horny for the man sitting in front of me that I can’t hold it back anymore. The words pop out of me before I can stop them. “Fuck me, Reese.”
Tsking at me, he says, “I don’t think we’re done with our game. Give me one more truth or dare, Paisley.”
So beyond done with this game, I say, “Dare and make it quick.”
He nods and looks around his backyard, contemplating what he wants me to do. Turning back to me, his eyes light up and he says, “Strip down and go skinny-dipping with me.”
I don’t need to say anything, he already knows my answer. Hell, anyone within a two-mile radius can probably feel my answer, from the horny and needy vibe vibrating off me.
Standing, I pull down my thong and toe it to the side. I turn toward the pool, glance over my shoulder at Reese—who’s perusing my body, his hand rubbing his jaw—and dive into the pool, letting the cold water hit me hard, cooling off some of the fire lighting up in my body.
Reese makes quick work of his shorts and stands at the edge of the pool, naked and in all his glory. His body reeks of power, every muscle in his body flexes as he gets ready to enter the pool. Diving in head first, I wait for him to rise to the surface, which he does by swimming to me underwater and surfacing in front of my face.
Not taking a second to let him catch his breath, I wrap my legs around his waist and connect our mouths, pulling on the back of his head so harshly that our teeth clash at first. I don’t care. I welcome the pain.
“Damn, baby. You’re going to knock a tooth out,” he says in between kisses.
“I don’t care. I need your cock, Reese.”
He chuckles and says, “You know you did this to yourself, right? You’re the one who decided on grinding on my dick.”
“But you’re the one who broke the contact. I was seconds from having an amazing orgasm. You stole that from me, and I want it back.”
“My poor baby,” he coos in my ear right before he grips the lobe with his teeth and pulls down. “Do you want me to fix the ache between your legs, Paisley? Do you want me to end the burning sensation building up inside you?” Biting again, he says in a low hum, “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” I respond, letting his lips glide down my neck to my collarbone. I’m getting ready for him to attack my other ear when he lifts me out of the pool and places me on a pretzel-shaped floaty that is in his pool. “What are you doing?” I ask, trying not to flop around too much.
“Hold still,” he demands, stopping me from moving. With both his hands on my legs, he slides me down on the pretzel and then spreads my legs to either side, exposing my burning sex to the cool night air. Gliding me to the shallow end, he stands before me, winks, and then lowers his head to my inner thigh.
“Ohhhh,” I moan as his beard rubs against my sensitive skin and his lips ride up to my bikini line. Despite the cold water I’m resting in, I start to break out in a sweat as his breath hovers over my aching pussy. With his fingers, he spreads my lips and very slowly places his tongue over my clit. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t even flinch, he just rests there, his tongue against my bundle of nerves. “Reese,” I moan, trying to move in the water but he holds me still. “For fuck’s sake, just get it over with.”
Never in my life has my clit throbbed so hard to the point I want to cry. I need release. I’m begging for release with my body.
Reese moves his tongue along my clit with his tongue flat, not applying too much pressure, just enough to let me know he’s down there. Noted, I get it. You’re between my legs, buddy, stop torturing me.
Licking upward, he runs the length of my slit and then pulls away, his beard scratching my thighs. I’m about to scream when he performs the same movement, placing the flat of his tongue on my clit and not moving.
“Oh fuck,” I say in distress, trying to encourage him to keep moving by threading my fingers in the curl of his hair, but he refuses to let up. At the same pace, he runs his tongue up my slit and repeats the process, over and over again. His tongue never pressing hard enough, his mouth never working fast enough, only providing me a long, arduous torture where I can’t feel anything in my body anymore. Every last inch of my body is vexed, my limbs aren’t able to move, and if it weren’t for the float providing me buoyancy, I would be drowning right about now.
I cry out in frustration, my head moving back and forth, my hips begging for more, my pussy desperate for more.
“Please,” I beg softly, trying to convey the pure torture with one syllable. I must finally get through to him because right when I think he’s about to do one more round of misery, he forms a point with his tongue and flicks my clit rapidly at a rate that is incomprehensible.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” I cry out, my head lifting off the float, shooting my gaze to where he’s looking up at me, his tongue running a mile a minute. His eyes blaze up at me and his fingers grip into my ass, keeping me in place.
I don’t have time to even breathe as white-hot pleasure rips through my entire body, splitting me in half and sending me into a downward spiral of erotic bliss. He pounds into my clit with his tongue. I roar in euphoria, letting everyone in the area know that Reese King is fucking me with his tongue to the point that I’m pretty sure my clit it about to fly off.
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” I scream as shots of bliss run through me. Twitch after twitch rocks my body until my pussy is so sensitive, I can’t take anymore. “You have to stop,” I say, as my orgasm still rocks through me. “Oh God, you have to stop.”
He smiles and slows down his tongue, going back to leisurely long licks as my body quivers under his mouth, my orgasm still raging inside me, slowing down with each pass of his tongue until there is nothing left.
Gently, he kisses my inner thighs where his beard rubs against them and then pulls away. I must be a real treat to look at, sprawled across the float, legs wide, arms like noodles. I wouldn’t be surprised to see my tongue hanging out of my mouth.
“How was that, baby?” Reese asks, pulling me off the float and encasing me in his arms. He floats us around the pool, his erection pressing against me with need.
“I think you know,” I answer, completely unable to support myself.
“Sounded like it was good. Watching you come apart on my tongue like that, sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, Paisley. I almost came watching you.”
“Mmm . . .” is all I say.
He nudges my cheek with his. “Hey, you can’t sleep.”
“Why not? It’s not my fault you literally fucked my bones to boil. I have nothing in me right now.”
Pushing us to the edge of the pool, he presses my back against the side and lines up our bodies.
“If that’s the case, I’ll just have to fuck you against the cool tile of the pool.” Before I know what’s happening, his erection shoots forward as he spreads my legs, filling me whole.
“Yes
ssssss,” I sigh, holding on to his neck for support.
I don’t move, I just let him do all the work as he plows into me, his hips never once giving in until he grunts out my name and buries his head in my neck, falling over quickly.
As the moon lights up our erotic bubble, I think about how far we’ve come in such a short amount of time. I never thought I would be this addicted to another human being but Reese King has proven me wrong. Every moment with him is like a new one, every time he enters me with his long, throbbing cock, it feels like the first time, and every time he calls me baby, it sends a shiver down my spine.
Our relationship might not be conventional, and we might have to hide it, but all the worry is worth it for moments like this. Moments where I feel so completely and utterly loved by this man that I don’t ever want to give it up, despite the challenges in our way.
***
“What are you thinking about?” I ask Reese as I lay in his arms on his bed. His hand methodically strokes my hair, the only reason I know he’s awake at such an early hour.
“Just the games,” he responds, his voice soft.
“Are you nervous?”
He takes a second to answer. “I don’t know if nervous is the right word. I think I’m anxious and also sad.”
“Sad? Because this is your last go at it?”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “It’s funny, you spend your whole life trying to obtain a goal, something you’ve always wanted, and you never think about losing that chance to go for it anymore. But this is it for me. If I don’t win gold, then I will never know what it feels like to hold one in my hand, to hear the national anthem play over the speakers while I stand on the center podium. I will never experience that feeling unless I accomplish it this games. Plus, I have a public image to resurrect after the games, the main reason I’m doing this stupid show.”
“You will,” I say, squeezing him tightly. “You’ve worked so hard.”
“Yes, and I’ve worked hard every other time prior. There is always just something that fucks with me.”
“What do you mean?” I stroke his chest lightly with my fingers, trying to make him feel comfortable.
“It’s not just about swimming, Paisley. It’s not about my stroke or the position of my hand when it enters the water, or the way I dive off the block. What separates a gold medalist and a silver medalist is the mental game, and every single fucking game I’ve let my mental game crack and crumble right before a race.”
There is anger in his voice, anger I’ve never heard him use before. It’s a little startling. But along with the anger, there is a hint of anxiety, a hint of self-doubt that hurts my heart in a way I never expected. Yes, I care for Reese, and I have deep feelings for him, but I didn’t realize the extreme connection I have with him until this moment. It’s as if our bodies are one and every pleasure and pain he’s experiencing, I’m experiencing.
Before I can respond, he says, “I can’t let anything fuck with me this time. No matter what happens, I need to keep my head in the pool and my sight set on gold.” The way he says that, it’s not like he’s telling me, it’s like he’s trying to convince himself of what he needs to do.
“Do you foresee anything going wrong?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You never know. Every other situation has been unexpected. You can never really tell what might happen, that’s why I have to be on top of my mental game and make sure I flush real life out of my mind and zero in on what I need to accomplish in the pool.” He shakes his head as his fingers twirl my hair. “And knowing Bellini, something will come up. She is bound to throw some kind of tantrum, which is something I wish I didn’t have to be ready for.” He takes a deep breath and then turns to me, he cups my face with his large hand and says, “Want to know something?”
I smile at him, loving how I so easily get lost in the intensity of his eyes. “Always.”
The pad of his thumb runs across my cheekbone as he speaks. He’s so loving, so caring, so gentle, that it rips me to shreds. I’ve never been treated with so much adoration before. “Ever since I’ve met you, I’ve felt at ease. For the first time in a long time, I feel I can go into the games with a positive outlook. I can feel the victory in my bones, Paisley, and it’s from the confidence you’ve instilled in me. I want to impress you so fucking bad.”
And there it is. The last thread I was hanging on to keep me from falling head over heels in love with this man has snapped. How could I not with that kind of confession? It breaks down every wall I’ve ever erected around my heart and allows him to bury his soul deep inside mine.
“Reese, you’ve already impressed me, not just by your ability to stroke through water with a sexy finesse that turns me on every time I watch you, but with your kind and caring heart.” I press my hand to his chest and speak genuinely. “I don’t have to watch you earn a gold to be won over by you, because with or without that gold medal in your hand, you’re still the man who makes my heart beat faster with every smile caressing your ruggedly handsome face.”
Reese’s eyes soften and when I think he’s going to kiss me gently on the lips, he instead just rests his forehead against mine, conveying the need for my comfort.
“I want this so fucking bad, Paisley.” His voice is distraught, crackling, breaking apart with each syllable. It slays me.
I’ve set goals in my life before: I want to make something of my career, I want to be successful, but I don’t think I’ve ever shown the kind of passion and need to accomplish something like Reese has. I can feel it in the marrow of my bones how much Reese wants this, how much he wants to prove, not only to his country, but to himself, that he deserves to stand on the center podium. It’s evident in the way he’s practically shaking in my arm.
Instead of telling him he’s going to win and be the most amazing swimmer in the world, I hold my tongue because those are empty words. I can talk to him until I’m blue in the face but it won’t mean anything until he goes to Rio and proves himself right.
He doesn’t need words of encouragement; he needs comfort, so that’s what I give him. Moving even closer, I lightly press his lips against mine. I clamp my hand around the base of his neck and rub my thumb over the column, gently and sweetly, letting him know I’m here for him, that I believe in him, and that I know he can do this.
Our lips mate, ever so slightly pressing against each other, but never diving too deep. We keep it simple; we keep it gentle. This isn’t about ripping each other’s clothes off and fucking up against this headboard; this is something different, something deeper, something incredibly more intimate.
Reese falls into my touch, letting me take charge. It’s intoxicating that this alpha male—this tough man who always seems like he has things together—needs me. It’s astonishing how he treats me like a damn lifeline as if without me, he would easily drown.
If anything, I’ve realized that despite what happens with my job, I can bounce back from the repercussions. However, with Reese, if I ever lose him, there is no hope in filling the holes he’s punctured into my soul.
Chapter Twenty-Five
**REESE**
This will never get old.
Ever.
Standing in my country’s colors, holding up my country’s flag, and parading around a stadium with my fellow athletes while my country cheers me on. It will never ever fucking get old, and it’s something I will never take for granted.
Since countries are called in alphabetical order for the opening ceremony, we’ve been huddled in a tunnel for longer than I would like, but the minute we’re called out, it’s all worth it. The stadium erupts, despite not being in our home country, and flashes of lights sporadically shoot off from around the stands. Our flag leads the way, held by one of the women soccer players, and I hold my phone up to the crowd, recording everything from my view. It’s something to watch on TV, but to be in the thick of it, in the trenches, it’s a whole other world. This being my last time, I want to remember every last moment of it: from the smiles on
my teammates faces, to the sounds and pyrotechnics within the stadium.
My very last opening ceremony; it’s surreal, almost impossible to comprehend. This is the last time I will don my country’s uniform, the last time I will stand together with Team USA, holding flags, and for one jovial moment, I take it all in.
Countries from around the world put together the best of the best athletes. Athletes who have trained relentlessly for years for their one and only shot at proving their talent on the big stage, of representing their colors, their blood, the land they grew up in. It’s the epitome of athletic prowess and for the last time in my life, I am experiencing it.
Nostalgia encompasses me as my throat chokes up from it all coming to an end.
“Dude, this is insane,” Hollis calls out, wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling me in. “Shit, I’m going to miss doing this with you.”
It’s never easy saying goodbye, but to say goodbye to your sport, the one thing that’s made you eat, sleep, and breathe ever since you can remember, it’s like a little piece of your soul dying.
Not wanting to show my emotions, I push Hollis to the side. “Don’t get all watery on me now.”
“It’s the end of an era,” he calls out to the crowd, no one being able to hear him besides the few people around us. “You can’t tell me you’re not going to miss this. And hell, the free clothes are so worth the five-in-the-morning conditioning practices.” He pulls on the lapels of his dress jacket custom-made by Ralph Lauren.
“Yes, I swim in the Olympics for the free clothes.”
“Don’t we all.” He brushes the sleeve of his right arm. “I’m telling you, Ralph has his shit together. He really knows how to dress a body. I looked in the mirror before I left and thought, hell, If Melony caught me in this outfit, she would finally give in to the feelings I know she has for me.”
“You’re still on that?” I ask. “Hollis, she is never going to give you the time of day.”