Page 114 of Stroked Long
I stop our slow pace through the sand. “Ew, really?”
“No.” He laughs, a deep rumble coming up from his chest. Sweet heaves, he’s so damn sexy.
“You know I would believe you if you said something like that, right? I wouldn’t put it past you to wrap something like a protein bar in a kale leaf. I bet you keep kale stalks in your backpack and pull one out to gnaw on when you’re bored.”
“Nah, they would wilt in my backpack.”
I roll my eyes but lean in closer, taking in his fresh scent. “Congrats on advancing today. Are you excited?”
“I am,” he sighs, gripping harder on my hand. “I kind of wish we just had finals and didn’t have to go through all the pre-races. I get why we do it, but it gets tiring. I just want to race for the win.”
“Makes sense. I got tired just looking at the schedule. I don’t know how you do it.”
Looking down at me, he winks and says, “Kale.”
“Smart ass.” I pinch his side, well attempt to pinch it but thanks to his dedication to eating shrubs, there is nothing there to pinch. “Ugh, you’re so fit.”
“Is that a problem?” His eyebrows shoot up.
“Nooo,” I drag out. “It’s just annoying. Here I am, stuffing my face with the Oreo bar you gave me, and I can’t find skin on your body to pinch. Do you ever want to flick my love handles to see them jiggle?”
He stops walking and turns to me. Fierce anger is in his eyes. Note to self: don’tevertalk about flicking giggly love handles ever again.
“Don’t fucking do that. Don’t devalue yourself in front of me, Ruby. I will not stand for it. You’re beautiful, gorgeous in fact. When I see you, I lose my breath temporarily. You make me fucking weak in the knees, Ruby. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a woman, from your big brown eyes that warm me with one look, to your sexy curves I grab on to when I fuck you senseless, to your warm embrace I crave every night. You’re fucking perfect. Got it?”
I gulp, tamping down the sting in my eyes and the lump in my throat.
I’ve had a few boyfriends in my lifetime, some good, some real losers, but none of them have ever spoken to me like Bodi; none of them looked at me as if I’m the sole reason they’re breathing like Bodi does. It almost seems like I’m his air, and when I’m around, he thrives.
Lifting my chin with his index and middle fingers, he makes me look him in the eyes, his soulful blue eyes. “Got it, Ruby?” he repeats.
I nod, feeling so incredibly cherished. “Got it.”
“Good.”
He observes where we are standing and guides me to a vacant spot where he sits on the sand and pulls me down with him, resting me between his propped-up legs. My back leans against his chest and he rests his chin on my shoulder while his arms wrap tightly around me, encasing me in a Bodi cocoon.
“This is my first relationship,” he confesses, after a long time of silence. “I never felt the need to be with someone until you came along. You changed everything I ever thought I could have and it terrifies me.” He kisses my temple and then continues. “I’m a very routine-driven man, Rubes. I don’t adjust well to change. You’re the first person I’ve ever made accommodations for. You’re the first person to pull me out from under the dark shadows I’ve been living in. I don’t know how you do it, but you make me want more.”
Oh God, my heart is beating out of control, and I don’t think I can breathe. The emotions skyrocketing through me are almost too much. This man is going to break me. He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of and yet, he is very much a broken man, a man who needs me to guide him.
I want to tell him, it’s on the tip of my tongue, I want to express how much I cherish what we have, what we share, how he makes me feel every second of every day. He deserves to know, but what if . . .?
What if he’s unable to reach into his soul and find the same feelings for me?
He kisses the side of my ear and presses his lips close enough that I feel the heat of his mouth on my neck. I hold my breath. Is he going to say those three little words?
The air stands still, people around us disappear, and I wait for him to say it. It seems so right, the timing, the sentiment, the atmosphere. This would be the absolute perfect time for him to tell me how he truly feels.
I feel him take a breath and I prepare myself for those three little words.
I love you.
But they never come. They hang in the air, never falling to my ears. Will I ever hear them? Will he ever love me the way I love him? Is he capable of such an emotion?
Leaning against him, being captured in his embrace, I know he is capable of such emotions. I know, deep in my bones that this man can easily hand over his heart.Hejust has to be brave enough to do so.
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