Page 17 of Stroked Hard
Taking advantage of our proximity, knowing we could have a conversation and no one would be able to hear us, I say, “Hey neighbor.”
From my voice, she jumps in her seat and turns to face me, a shocked look on her face.
“When did you get here? Did you follow me?”
Why does she constantly think I’m following her around? Does she really assume I have nothing better to do with my life?
“On the contrary, fish nipple, I’ve been here for about an hour. So you’re the one who’s following me.”
Skipping over everything I’ve said, she fixates on one word. “Fish nipple?”
“Yeah, it’s a term of endearment.”
“How the hell is that a term of endearment?”
I think about it for a second. Fish nipple. Huh, it’s kind of not the best at all.
I shrug. “I read it in a book.”
“What book would that be?” She’s fucking talking to me. Even though I’m about to divulge a big secret of mine, I don’t care because she’s talking to me.
“A book calledAnything But Minorby Kate Stewart. It’s about a minor league baseball player making his way to the big leagues.”
“Is this fiction?”
“Sure.” I swallow hard. “Also a sports romance.”
That catches her attention. She sits up and leans in my direction. If only her cover-up was a little lower, I would be able to see her cleavage. Fucking thing, there is no point for women to wear them. You either wear your suit or you don’t. Don’t fucking tease men with these stupid see-through short dresses. They’re asinine.
“You read romance?” The look on her face is full of disbelief.
“On occasion.” I pass it off as nothing.
“I don’t buy it. Let me see your eReader.”
“I don’t have it with me.” My mouth twists to the side as if I’m truly bummed I can’t share my eReader with her.
“Then what’s that on your lap?” She points to my black-case-covered eReader . . . right there on my lap. Shit. Good fucking work, Knightly.
“It’s where I keep my vitamins?” I say more as a question.
Like a flash of lightning, she reaches out and grabs my eReader off my lap, skimming the back of her hand across my thigh. Christ Almighty, the move sends a jolt to my dick.
Distracted by the fucking horny sensation running through me—yes, I’m a teenage boy—I don’t register Melony opening my eReader until she starts laughing. With the biggest smile on her face, she looks up at me and says, “All these covers have shirtless men on the front of them.”
“And your point?” I cross my arms over my chest, looking to defend myself.
“They have shirtless men . . .”
I roll my eyes. “Some of the best romance novels start with a shirtless man on the cover.”
“Aren’t these for women?”
I scoff at her. “Sexist. Last time I checked, there wasn’t a requirement for who is allowed to read romance and who isn’t.”
“I’m not a sexist. It’s just . . . I’ve never met a man who reads romance novels.”
“That’s because in general, men are stupid.”
