Page 124 of Beyond the Stroke

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RORY

My hands grip the edge of the pool and I stand to yank off my goggles.

Keeping up with my workouts when I’m traveling is a must, so when the campaign was booked, Vivi made sure they put us up in a condo with a lap pool.

While I catch my breath, I look over at the lounger Summer had been sketching on earlier, but she’s gone. I pull my swim cap off, then climb out of the pool and grab a towel before making my way back up to the condo.

“Summer?” I call, toweling my hair off as I walk into the living room.

There’s no reply, so I move toward the bedroom.

As I get closer, there’s a faint moaning sound, and I wonder if she’s okay.

I make my way to the doorway. The bedside lamp is on, casting a warm glow across the room. That’s when I see her.

There, spread out on the bed in only a t-shirt, is Summer, with her hand between her legs.

At first, I think I must be seeing things.

What I want to see, not reality.

But the longer I stand there expecting the image of Summer pleasuring herself to disappear, the more I realize it’s not a mirage.

Her shirt is damp where her bikini used to be but she must have taken it off because beneath the soft, wet cotton, her nipples are stiff peaks. Her lips are parted. The bridge of her nose pinched and wrinkled in frustration.

I’m too enraptured to leave. I know I should give her privacy but everything about the sight of her is holding me to the spot. The tuft of light curls gathered at the apex of her thighs. Even from this distance I can see the glistening of her arousal.

“Rory.” She moans, her eyes still shut.“Oh, please.”

Fuck. Hearing my name as a plea on her lips will forever be etched into my brain. It’ll haunt my dreams.

This woman,my wife,with her flushed cheeks and fiery soul, is touching herself to the thought of me. The knowledge sends a potent rush of chemicals through my veins. Drawing most of my blood supply south, my cock strains against the confines of my wet jammer. The surge of desire has my fingers gripping tighter on the towel around my neck. Even my balls ache at the sight of her.

Fuck.

I can’t look away. My hand reaches out to steady myself on the wall, but the wall isn’t there and my fingertips bump into a small anchor figurine on the upright dresser instead. As it skirts along the surface of the dresser, I try to catch it, but I’m too late and it hits the wooden floor with a clank. The disturbance has Summer’s eyes flying open, her body springing upwards. Before she sees me, I try to get behind the door, but it’s impossible to hide my large frame quick enough.

“Rory?” she calls out, my name on her lips trembling with uncertainty this time.

I’m caught, so I walk back in the room, with the towel draped casually over my shoulders.

“Sorry.” I reach to pick up the brass anchor figurine and put it back in its place. “I heard my name and thought you needed me.”

Giving her a moment to recover from my sudden appearance, I take my time, slowly dragging my eyes from the anchor figurine across the room to her. But she hasn’t moved to cover herself. She’s still spread out on the bed, her t-shirt barely concealing her sex. Beneath the hem, without her fingers blocking my view, I can see she’s swollen and so fucking slick.

The sight of her there is exhilarating. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Not because she’s wet and touching herself, but because of the way she’s raw and unabashedly sexy.

My eyes drop to the space between her thighs again.

Damn. She was close and I interrupted her.

I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out like gravel. “Do you need me, Wildflower?”

Her lust-filled gaze traces down the length of my body, stopping at what I know to be the large bulge in my jammer.

Jammers are good for streamlining but they’re shit at hiding erections. Not that I’m trying to hide it. I wouldn’t bother to deny my attraction to Summer. Clothes, no clothes. Smiling or scowling. I want her. It’s irrefutable.

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