STROKED LONG (28 page)

Not needing to say it, I decide to show him. I push on his shoulders until he rolls over willingly. Loving everything about his chest, I remove his shirt because I want to torture him just as much as he tortured me.

Being the newly confident man that he is—at least around me—he laces his fingers behind his head, his biceps flexing, and stares up at me with heady eyes. His chest ripples, his pecs dancing with his movement, and even in a laid-out state I can see the clear definition of his six-pack. I know I make fun of him for his eating habits, but right now, I want to thank everyone who’s ever grown kale.

“You’re so hot,” I say, running my hands up his chest.

“You think so?” He gives me a knowing smirk and my heart takes flight in my chest.

Leaning forward, my hair cascading a curtain around us, I kiss his lips lightly—barely touching them—and then start kissing down the column of his neck to his collarbone where I spend a little time nibbling on his skin.

Slightly breathless, he says, “Careful, Rubes. My job entails me being shirtless one hundred percent of the time.”

“All the reason for me to mark you then, so people know you’re mine.”

I glance up to see his eyes burning through me with lust. Mmm, just what I wanted.

Nibbling some more, he throws out a warning, “Rubes . . .”

“Don’t worry.” Oh, he should worry. I work my lips down to his chest where I run my tongue over his flat nipple. A sharp hiss escapes him so I do it again, this time adding my teeth.

“Ruby,” he warns again, only spurring me on. I move over to the next nipple and do the same thing, loving the way he’s letting me control his body despite his numerous warnings.

I continue to work my way down, passing over his corded muscles, the deep contours of his abs, the yummy divots in his waistline, where I unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. His erection is pressing up against the zipper and even though I want to torture him, I need to see just how long and hard he is.

He lifts off the ground so I can work his jeans down and since he doesn’t wear underwear, his cock springs free, and I’m greeted with the most delicious sight.

Shaking my head, I look up at him and see a very satisfied grin on his face. “Where do you stuff it all?”

This question stuns him. “What?” His brow furrows.

“Your penis, Bodi. Where do you put it all? It’s huge and somehow it’s not flopping around in your Speedo, aiding you in your strokes like a third arm in the pool. You know, like a rudder?”

A burst of laughter comes out of him, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. His chest vibrates with his chuckle and his abs flex with his movements. Sex oozes out of him with each laugh.
He’s. So. Incredibly. Breathtaking. And he’s mine. Mine.

When he gains control, he shakes his head at me, as if he can’t believe my question. “Rubes, I’m not hard in the pool.”

“Wait.” I hold up my hand. And I can see the irony. I have this very hard, very lickable penis in front of me, and I am asking him questions about getting hard elsewhere. “You’re telling me you don’t get erect for the Olympics?”

“Nope.” He chuckles a little more.

“I wish that were the case. Could you imagine NBC’s ratings if they showed a bunch of men in tight swimsuits swimming around in the pool, their boners scraping the bottom? You know what?” I press my finger to my chin, really getting into my thoughts now, ignoring the giant cock bouncing in front of me. “That should be an Olympic sport: sausage stuffing.” I paint him a picture. “It starts with a line of flaccid penises, the gun goes off and it’s a race to see who can not only get erect first, but who can stuff their sausage in a pair of Spandex and then do twenty jumping jacks without their penis flying out. I would one hundred percent watch that. Would you?”

Bodi has a very perturbed look on his face and I’m pretty sure, just from the way his lip is tipped to the side, I know he wouldn’t want to watch that Olympic sport.

“Why would you want to see other men’s dicks?”

Of course that’s what he would ask.

“I don’t want to really see their dicks. I’m not about to sit in front of the TV and stare down their danglers, I just want to see the theatrics of it all.”

“Still seems like you want to see other dicks.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, you caught me. I enjoy a good sausage fest. I just want dicks piled on top of each other so I can stare at all of them, because you know, the penis is the most beautiful thing in the world. Yes, I love staring at the male genitalia,” I deadpan.

“Well, if that’s the case.” He starts to get up, but I pin him down by his chest, feeling his chuckle under my palm.

“If you want my tongue on your cock, I would suggest you don’t move.”

And just like that, the heat between us evaporates our jovial mood. Settling back down, Bodi touches my cheek, his thumb grazing my skin as his hand works to the back of my neck and pulls me down for a scorching kiss. He parts my lips with his tongue and gingerly tastes me, taking his time, letting our tongues mingle. It’s an erotic feeling, having someone else so needy for you, for just a small taste.

And there is something different about Bodi’s touch. He can be aggressive, but when he’s actually kissing me, or sucking on my nipples, of even licking my clit, he’s tentative at first but then sinks into what he’s doing. It’s as if he’s unsure at first but then he takes control. It’s hot having a man wonder if I like something he’s doing instead of being on autopilot, pressing all the right buttons, until it’s time to direct his dick into my vagina.

His kiss grows hungrier, and what I had planned quickly vanishes as I get lost in his touch, in his mouth, in the way we feel connected. His hands run up my side, and he mumbles, “Dress, gone.”

Thankfully it’s a sundress, so I pull it over my head and toss it to the side. Bodi took care of my bottoms earlier; I don’t have anything else to shed since I wasn’t wearing a bra. Bodi’s eyes widen when he sees my hard nipples in the cool night air. Sitting up, he cups my breasts and runs his thumbs over my nipples in slow leisurely strokes, completely focused on what he’s doing. My head falls back from the pleasure,
and
from how my heated center is being teased by Bodi’s erection.

His fingers work their magic as they pluck my nipples, pulling on them until I’m about to cry out, only to have him gently rub them, a cycle he repeats over and over again. If I have to say, I’m pretty sure Bodi is a boob man because the amount of time he spends on my tits is damn near lethal.

Instinctively, my hand goes to his head and pushes it down. I want his mouth on my boobs, not just his fingers. Picking up on my cues, he lowers his hot mouth and licks my right nipple a few times before completely pulling it into his mouth and sucking hard. His teeth gently bite down and I cry out, a wave of pleasure shooting straight to my pussy.

My hips start to rock against him, bumping into his erection but never hitting where I need so I lift up on my knees and tilt his cock up against his stomach, just in the right spot where I can rub my slick clit against it.

“Yesss,” I moan, my head falling back again and my hips doing all the work as I hump Bodi’s cock, coating him with my arousal.

“Fuck, Ruby.” His grip on my nipples pulls tighter, igniting a flame inside me.

“Oh God, I’m going to come.”

“Not . . . yet,” Bodi says in a strangled voice. He then flips me around so I’m on all fours. Is he going to fuck me on all fours?

Nope. He pulls me so my back is against his chest and grips his cock, so big, so ready, and poises it against my entrance. His hands move to my stomach where he slowly enters me and runs his hands up to my breasts at the same time, causing a wave of erotic sensation to stream up my body.

“You feel so good inside me, Bodi. So full.”

He grunts out his pleasure and continues to rock his hips against mine, hitting a spot deep inside me, causing my legs to quiver and shake.

“Yes, more,” I tell him, now holding on to the back of his neck while he trails kisses along mine, one of his hands squeezing my nipple and the other skimming down my stomach until he reaches my pussy. With skillful fingers, he starts massaging my clit and that’s my undoing.

I cry out his name. I can feel myself tighten around him as he continues to pump. Soft groans escape him, the rumble of his chest against my back, and then I feel him spurt his seed inside me, his hips never letting up until he’s completely done.

Breathing heavily, he gets up and pulls me into his arms. With a few steps, he is placing me on my bed and snuggling up behind me, his sweaty chest against my equally sweaty back. He nuzzles his face into my hair and takes a deep breath.

“I’m going to miss you when I have to leave for training camp.”

“Is that soon?” I ask, completely forgetting about his Olympic duties.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“We can talk every day,” I reassure him.

“It’s not the same, Rubes. Talking on the phone doesn’t allow me to feel your soft skin, or smell your sweet scent, or be buried balls deep inside you.” He sighs again. “But the phone will have to do.”

He kisses my shoulder and I melt into him. “We can always do FaceTime,” I suggest.

“We
will
be doing FaceTime, Rubes. I can’t deprive myself of your gorgeous face.”

How did I ever get so lucky?

BODI

I open the passenger door to my truck to help Ruby down. I’m greeted with a bright smile and a view of her polka-dot dress riding high on her thigh. What I wouldn’t give to take her back to her apartment or my place instead of going on with real life. I have to leave for training camp soon and then the games, and the thought of leaving Ruby behind puts a huge ball of dread in the pit of my stomach.

I never thought I would rely on the smile of another person, but with Ruby, it’s like a daily medication I need to take. I hadn’t thought I could fit another element into my task-oriented, structured days. Ruby has become a necessity, something welcomed but also confusing.

“You don’t have to help me out of the truck, you know.” She grabs her purse and attempts to hop down, but I grab her by the waist and assist her before she can do it by herself.

“I like to,” I answer honestly. Setting her on the ground, I push a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. “You look really pretty today.”

A pink blush caresses her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Rubes. I’m just speaking the truth.”

“Well, in that case, you look really hot today and your dick was huge in the shower earlier.”

Fuck yeah, it was. Ruby knelt in front of me, those pouty lips ready to suck me in, I was harder than the fucking cement on the pool deck.

“That will never get old to hear.” I wink and shut the door. Lacing my fingers with hers, I take her bag and we both walk into the back entrance of the club to avoid any commotion.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask as we reach the door to the building. She reaches for it but I stop her. “Not yet, I want a couple more moments with you.”

With my hands on her hips, I press her against the wall of the club and pin her down.

The gentle caress of her fingers strokes my cheek, an endearing look in her eyes. “You’re very sweet, you know that, Bodi?”

“Only with you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You’re sweet with Eva and Lauren, and with all the kids you help here at the club. I hate to admit it, but you’re kind of a softy.”

It’s funny that she sees me that way. I would never consider myself a softy. My bedside manner is almost non-existent. I’m more of a robot than anything. I’m “sweet” with the kids because they’re kids. I’m not going to be some prick sitting in a lawn chair on the side of the pool blowing a whistle at the little bastards. My mom would not stand for such behavior from me. And Eva and Lauren, well, they are the only family I have left. I can be the real, neurotic Bodi around them, and they won’t judge me.

Ruby. She’s a different story. She makes me feel more alive, like there’s a possibility of getting out of this little box I’ve been living in. The self-imposed and very necessary prison keeping me functional, keeping me safe. Others too.

She’s also a risk.

A huge risk, and I’ve been trying to tamp down that thought and not allow it to grow. Warning bells have been signaling, reminding me that she
would want
to change my routine, that she
would push me
to move forward in life. I’m not sure I would be able to do that.

Despite how happy I am, I’m still governed by neurotic thoughts and behaviors. I still need to call Eva at night. I still have to conduct some of my everyday happenings in threes. I still need to keep everything neat and orderly in my condo. And I still need to check my locks constantly, three times each.

That will never change.

It’s who I am.

Would Ruby accept that?
Could Ruby accept that?

“We need to work on the foundation. Make sure everything is in place for painting at the training camp.”

Despite the thoughts running through my mind, I kiss her lips softly and say, “We can do that . . . naked.”

“Bodi Banks, you little horndog. We can discuss business with our clothes on.” I’m actually kind of surprised that came out of my mouth. It’s not something I would normally say but then again, I haven’t been my normal, closed-off self since I met Ruby.

“Certainly we can,” I say, kissing her on her neck, “but that doesn’t mean we have to.”

She sighs from my touch. “Do you really think I would be able to get any work done with your willy staring its one eye up at me?”

“Don’t call my cock a willy.”

“Why not? Seems legit to me. I’m actually quite fond of it.” And thank God for that, because I’m extremely fond of every part of her that connects with my cock. Her hand, her lips . . . fuck, her pussy.

Kissing my way back up to her lips, I reply, “If you ever want to see this
willy
again, you won’t call it that.”

“You can be such a tightwad,” she teases.