Page 51 of Stroked Long
“Hey,” I say with a mocking horrified look. “I can doggy paddle just fine.”
“Doggy paddle will get you nowhere, Rubes.”
Rubes.
Yup, that little nickname just made my heart thump harder, my toes tingle faster, and a deep ache take place down below. Not to mention how close we are lying. So close that if I stretched just a little more with my body, I would be able to easily lean in and kiss him.
What would he do if I kissed him? Would he kiss me back? Would he palm my face and put an arm-length distance between us while dry heaving? The latter would literally force me to become a nun.
I want to ask why he’s still holding my hand, why we are so close right now. I want to ask, like the little school girl I am, if he likes me. Not just as a friend, but if he likes me as a lover.
Lover? Is that the right word? Sounds so Madge and Ken like. Hello, this is my lover—said in creepy seductive voice.
Let’s not go with lover, let’s say if he likes me as a lady. Hmm . . . nope, don’t like that either. How about if he feels as though I’m worthy enough for him to stick his tongue in my mouth. Yes, I like that. Is my mouth worthy of your mouth? Does your tongue want to play house with mine? How about your penis? Is it looking for a home in my vagina?
Maybe that’s going a little far.
Bodi’s long yawn pulls me out of my thoughts. “Are you getting tired?” I ask. It’s kind of obvious; he is if he’s yawning.
“Long day. What about you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Silence falls between us and just when I think he’s asleep, he says, “Ask me another question.”
I smile to myself. What he doesn’t know is I can play this game with him all night, so he has no clue what he’s asking of me.
“Another question? Okay, what’s your favorite sport other than swimming?”
“Easy.” He smiles, his knee connecting with mine. We are so close to cuddling that I almost can’t breathe. It’s taking everything in me not to throw my body at him and bury my head in the nook of his neck. “Baseball.”
“Oh duh, I knew that. The Oakland A’s, right?”
“Yeah. Growing up, my room was decked out in Oakland memorabilia. I still have some of it packed in storage. I can watch baseball all day.”
“It’s such a shame,” I say, shaking my head.
Confusion laces his face. “What is?”
“That you’re an A’s fan.”
“Why?” He sits up slightly, his face hovering over mine. God, even in the dark of the storm I can see his muscles ripple in his chest as he moves to get a better look at me. “What team do you like?”
I smirk and say, “If my hand was free right now, I would be flapping my Angels wings.”
And just like that, he releases me and grips his head as he falls flat on the bed. The warmth from him dissipates and leaves me feeling cold inside, but I’m not too bothered by it because for one of the first times ever, I get to see an animated Bodi. A Bodi who actually is enjoying himself, who’s showing his true colors, and I love every second of it.
I feel honored I can bring that part of his personality out.
“No. You are not an Angels fan. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
I prop myself up on my elbow to get a better look at the agony in his face. “I’m afraid so.”
“Why?” he asks through his hands, muffling his voice.
“It was 1994, Tony Danza and Danny Glover graced the big screen in one of the most epic sports movies of all time.”
Sitting up to meet my eyes, he gives me an incredulous look. “Are you trying to pass offAngels in theOutfieldas cinematic brilliance?”
