STROKED LONG (23 page)

His shoulders relax and a slight smile grows on his chiseled face. That was the correct answer.

It’s so strange that the strong and confident man in the pool can be so self-conscious out of the water. Athletes, especially elite athletes, are usually confident, self-absorbed, cocky bastards who know they can get pretty much anything they want.

Not Bodi.

He’s very unsure of his appeal to the outside world, his mind always racing, his awkward tendencies on full display. But that’s what makes him so real, so enchanting.

“Did you enjoy the game?” he asks, breaking my thoughts. “Even though your precious wing flappers didn’t win.”

“No one likes a gloater, Bodi,” I tease. “But yes, it’s the best game I’ve been to. Especially since I won our little bet.”

Bodi takes me to the passenger side of his truck and opens the door for me.

“It was a lucky call on your end.”

“It was blatantly obvious he was out. You should be happy you didn’t bet any money because I would have taken you to the cleaners.” I poke his stomach, our hands disengage as we face each other.

“Yeah, instead I have to give you whatever you want. Seems scarier than losing money.”

“How so?”

He steps closer, pushing a strand of hair that’s fallen out of my hat behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek longer than expected, making my breath hitch.

“You’re a wild card. Not quite sure what you could ask for. Knowing you, you could ask for a picture of me wearing nothing but a sombrero over my crotch and holding a lizard with a mustache.”

A laugh bubbles out of me from the picture in my head that conjured up. Oh, I can see it plain as day. Too bad, that’s not what I want.

“Tempting,” I say, “but that’s not what I was thinking.”

“No?” His eyebrows rise, as if he was one hundred percent positive that sombrero crotch was what I really wanted. That’s not what I would want from his crotch if I had the option.

“No, but I’m actually ready to cash in on what I want.”

“Right here?” He looks around the lot full of expensive cars. A lonely street light shines above us, with the stars being our other source of light.

“Right here,” I confirm.

Shifting in place, he grips the bill of his hat and says, “Okay, what would you like?”

Mustering up every ounce of courage I have and praying to Zeus that he doesn’t turn me down, I say with gusto, “A kiss.”

With widening eyes, he stares down at me, unsure if he heard me right. “A kiss?” His shocked expression puts doubt in my heart. Maybe I was reading him wrong, maybe what I thought was lust flowing between us was just one-sided.

But I’ve already committed, so I swallow hard and nod. “Yes, a kiss . . . on the lips,” I add, in case he was thinking about going all Grandpa on me and puckering up only to drop a kiss on the top of my head. Holy hell, that would be absolutely mortifying.

Unsure, he searches my eyes and I shyly smile, trying to read what he’s thinking. All I can see is the inner workings of his brain running a mile a minute through the uneasy look in his face.

Shit, shit, shit.

Too fast. What happened to baby steps, Ruby?

I know, the hand holding happened, the smile, the laughter, the brush of his fingers against my cheek. Yup, they all made me temporarily insane.

My gut is twisting in my stomach, a million bricks settling at the bottom, weighing me down in the most painful of ways. The urge to purge is overwhelming, the need to flee is making my feet fidgety, and absolute mortification takes over, raising my body temperature to uncomfortable levels of heat.

Fuck, I want to cry.

He’s not doing anything. He’s just staring at me, as if I’m crazy.

I can’t take it anymore. I start to take back my request when he steps forward, causing my throat to close up and my palms to turn into monsoon season. His eyes stay trained on mine, his masculine stance overshadowing me.

Oh my God, will he kiss me?

Moving smoothly, his left hand connects with my hip, instantly setting every nerve ending on fire and causing a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter endlessly in my stomach. Just the mere touch of his hand on my hipbone causes a dull ache between my legs, reminding me how much I crave this man.

Turning his hat around, his hooded eyes indicate his intentions, and all I can do is stand there, stiff as a board, in awe that this actually might happen.

Slowly, ever so fucking slowly, he runs his hand up my arm, across my collarbone, up the column of my neck, past my cheek, and to my hat where he spins it around as well, only to lower his hand back to my jaw where his fingers skim my skin. His hand then falls to the back of my neck where it entwines with loose strands of hair.

Pulling me closer, I brace my hand on his chest for balance. My legs are wobbly, my knees weak, and there’s a great possibility I might collapse from this sensual moment.

Whispering softly, inches from my face, he says, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I can’t help the gulp that travels down my throat as I nod.
Oh, yes. Very, very sure.
I have no ability to speak, not with Bodi gripping me tenderly, mere moments away from caressing my lips with his. It’s too much. His presence is strong, commanding, dominant.

Flat-out intoxicating.

With one last search of my eyes, he lowers his head, pauses right before our lips touch, almost as if he’s waiting for me to stop him. There is
no
way I would do that. Not being this close, not when my body is humming with intimate need for Bodi.

With one last breath, he presses forward, connecting our mouths in a soft, explorative nature.

Light explodes around me, my stomach bottoms out, and my grip tightens on his shirt as he kisses me.

He’s not demanding. He’s tentative, delicate, as if it’s a whisper of a kiss. While his lips gently explore mine, making soft feather-like movements, his grip on my hip is exactly the opposite. Hard, unforgiving, almost bruising, he holds on to me, deepening his grasp with each movement of his lips. The hand tangling my hair is also demanding, not letting me move, not that I would want to. There is only one place I want to be, and it’s in Bodi’s arms.

Testing my limits, I part my lips and allow Bodi to explore some more. He takes the bait by groaning into my mouth and pressing me against the side of his truck, pinning me in place while his tongue strokes my bottom lip.

My whole body is tingling; igniting, throbbing, buzzing with yearning. Yearning for something more, for the press of his hips against mine, for the palm of his hand to move past my hip and up my stomach, for his body to slowly and seductively move against mine. Anything to further intensify this burning connection.

Running my hands up his chest, loving the way it feels like hard stone under my palms, I grip the back of his neck and plunge my tongue into his mouth, matching his every stroke, opening wide and letting our lips do the talking.

It’s intense.

Exhilarating.

By far, the most unbelievable sexy kiss I’ve shared with another person.

I’m gearing up for a long night of lip-locking when Bodi groans and quickly pulls away, letting our lips smack apart. As if I’m on fire, his body retreats from mine and he turns away, gripping the back of his neck while looking at the ground.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Did I scare him off?

My lips are swollen, my heart about to explode out of my chest, and my wobbly legs ready to break at any point in time.

I study the strain of muscles in his back as he grips his neck, the tightness in his shoulders, the tension taking over the man before me.
Well done, Ruby. You pushed him too far.

Unsure of what to do, I contemplate going to him but don’t get a chance because he turns around quickly and tilts his head as he studies me.

Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fuck it,” and charges after me, pinning me against the truck once again with one strong arm. The other straddles the side of my head as he leans forward, once again taking my mouth in his.

Holy hotness!

Echoes of baseball fans surround us, the crisp night air enveloping us in a cocoon, and the faint light of the ballpark barely peeking past the top of Bodi’s truck. It’s just the two of us, in this moment, our mouths pushing forward, turning this friendship into something more.

Pulling away, so our mouths are no longer connecting, he leans his forehead against mine and looks me in the eyes. He’s so close, and I can’t read him. His grasp on my hip is strong, and his hips are inches from mine. I’m not sure, but it sounds like he’s quietly saying
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

“Fuck, Ruby. What are you doing to me?”

“Kissing you?” I answer sheepishly, unsure how to answer his question.

The hand that was propping him up against the truck, cups my cheek and his thumb runs along my skin, sending chills down my spine.

“I need to take you home before I do something in the parking lot I will regret.” His voice is heavy, gravelly.

“And what might that be?” I ask on a gulp.

“Fuck you,” he answers honestly, pressing a kiss against my lips one last time and helping me into his truck.

Just like that, my entire being is set on fire.

Fuck you.

Those two words ring through my ears the entire ride home.

BODI

“I had a great time,” Ruby says timidly in the car. We just arrived outside her apartment where I put the truck in park. “Thanks for the amazing tickets. It really made my night.”

“Anytime,” I answer awkwardly.

The drive home was silent. Our easy banter nowhere to be found, and even though I could have turned the radio on, I didn’t. I couldn’t. My mind was fixated on that kiss.
Fuck, can she kiss.

There was no holding back when she asked me to kiss her. I thought about it for a few seconds, hating how incredible it felt to have an open invitation given the baggage trailing behind me, but seeing her lips glisten under the street lamp did me in. I needed to taste her, to know what it felt like to have her body pinned against mine.

And fuck if it wasn’t the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced.

Shrugging her shoulders, probably not sure what to do, she opens the door and says, “Okay, I’ll catch you later.”

Looking into the dark night, I realize I don’t want her walking around by herself, even though her apartment is only a few feet away, so I get out and jog around the truck to meet her. Her surprised look doesn’t go unnoticed.

“It’s dark and late; I don’t want you walking around alone.” Taking her hand in mine, I walk her to her apartment door.

“That’s not necessary,” she protests as we move forward.

“It’s not negotiable,” I reply sternly. I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to her.

Silently, we make our way to her front door and pause while she fishes out her keys from her purse. Their jingle echoes in the vacant hallway, and I don’t like how it signals our night is coming to an end.

“Thanks for walking me to my door.”

“Sure.”

Not moving, we both stare at each other, the weight of our kiss resting heavily between us. Was it a mistake? Did it change everything now? Is she regretting it?

Fuck, did she not enjoy kissing me?

Was I too demanding? Hell if I can remember. I was so consumed by the feel of her body, the way she slightly rocked against me in conjunction with the sweet strokes of her tongue, that I can’t remember my own damn actions.

Maybe I turned her off completely. Is that why she didn’t talk all the way home? Did I really fuck this up?

“Goodnight.” She faintly smiles and unlocks her door. I stand in place, unable to move. Is this how this night is really going to end?

Right when I think she is going in, her shoulders fall and she sighs while turning toward me.

“Bodi . . .”

I don’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. I grip the side of her face and pull her close, connecting our mouths once again, praying she doesn’t push me away.

The distinct sound of her keys hitting the floor spurs me on, as her hands clasp around my neck and pull me closer. Her lips part; the soft, sweet taste of her tongue meets mine and I’m lost once again, letting my other hand wander to her lower back, just above the swell of her ass. She has curves but she’s small, and my hand practically spans across the entire width of her back.

“Fuck,” I mutter, pushing her against the door jamb, hoping I don’t hurt her. “You’re addicting.”

Her answer is a moan, followed by her chest puffing out against mine, her nipples perked and hard as stone, pressing solidly into me.

I’m overcome with emotions as I clasp tighter to her hip, holding her in place. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to say goodnight. I want to hold her, cherish her, brand her.
My Rubes.

“Come inside,” she says in between kisses, causing me to pull away.

Did she just invite me in? My dick hardens from the mere thought of continuing what we started, pushing past using only our mouths.

In desperation, I search her eyes, making sure this is what she really wants. Expecting to see uncertainty, I’m greeted with a heady glaze in her beautiful eyes. This is real.

Letting her pull me into her apartment, I grab her keys, shut and lock the door, taking an extra second to make sure it’s secure. Since her apartment is so small, it doesn’t take long to get to her bedroom, which is illuminated by moonlight.

Time stands still, the tension in the air is thick with lust, and the energy between us is palpable, spurring me to take what I want. I reach for her hand but she pulls away, confusing me.

She doesn’t say a word. Instead, she tosses her hat to the side and lets out her loose braid, her golden locks falling over her shoulder in beautiful waves. I’m so entranced with her hair bouncing in time with her movements I miss her fingers pinching the hem of her shirt, which she pulls over her head and tosses to the side.

Standing in front of me, Ruby is confident in her body. She unzips her shorts and tosses those to the side, leaving her in minuscule lingerie. And holy fuck, I harden with each scan of her gorgeous body. Not only does she have beautiful curves to grab on to, but she seems to have a penchant for microscopic lingerie, a fact I admire. Because, fuck, she’s hot.