Page 105 of Stroked Long
Ruby: I’ll withhold my nipple from you until you do it.
Bodi: No you won’t. You like nipple play way too damn much. That’s an empty threat, Rubes.
Ruby: Damn it.
***
Ruby: I miss you.
Bodi: I miss you, too.
Ruby: I need to be in your arms.
Bodi: One more week, baby.
Ruby: But I miss you.
Bodi: I fucking miss you more.
***
Bodi: Are you all packed?
Ruby: Yes, just finishing up ironing your face on my shirt.
Bodi: Want to repeat that?
Ruby: I made a shirt with your face on it. I know how much you like to be pressed up against my boobs.
Bodi: That is very true.
Ruby: Have you been dreaming about my boobs?
Bodi: Every damn night. I’ve also been dreaming about your sweet smile, your mesmerizing eyes, and your beautiful heart.
Ruby: *swoon*
Bodi: It’s the truth. I fucking need you so bad right now.
I set my phone down and take a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling of my shit-tastic dorm room. Thanks, Rio, you really made us feel welcome with your exposed wiring, poor plumbing, and rooms without air-conditioning. Luckily, the United States Olympic Committee stepped up and made the majority of our rooms livable. Some of the athletes are staying off campus, and I don’t blame them.
Not me though, I always stay in the athlete dorms, despite the conditions. It’s a ritual I won’t break. The only good thing about it? I don’t have to share a room with someone. I get to listen to water run through the walls—not pipes—all by myself. So fucking lucky.I’m also able to avoid anyone noticing the three times I ensure my door is locked.
Ruby is flying out tomorrow with Bellini—a total nightmare, so I’ve heard—Paisley, Bellini’s assistant, Melony, Bellini’s hair and makeup person, and Pocket, Bellini’s . . . well, Ruby isn’t quite certain what Pocket is, or what her real name is. All she knows is Pocket follows Bellini around like some deranged, masochistic dog.
I can’t wait to see her in person. FaceTime, phone calls, and texts has kept me going, but what I wouldn’t give to smell her sweet hair, feel her soft lips against mine, be buried balls deep in that tight pussy of hers. Fuck, just thinking about it is getting me hard.
Normally sex wouldn’t cross my mind before races, but after being with Ruby and being ambushed by over four hundred thousand condoms in the athlete dorms—thank you, International Olympic Committee—I’m so fucking hard up. I need my girl. I crave her.
I settle into bed just as my phone rings.
Ruby.
Laying my head on the pillow, I put the call on speaker phone. “Hey, Rubes.”
“Bodi Bear,” she responds in her chipper voice, “are you getting ready for bed?”
“Already in it,” I respond, hating the four-hour time difference between us.
