Page 46 of Beyond the Stroke

I scoff at his request. It’s just like last night when he insisted he give me a ride home when I offered him dinner after we worked my shift. “I don’t think you understand how this works. I want to pay you back; you can’t take the paymentanddemand I give you my phone number.”

“I didn’t demand. I asked.”

“And I said no.”

For a moment, he looks at me like a fox sizing up a hen, then the corner of his lip curls up and a carefree smile breaks out across his face.

“Okay.” He nods. “But has anyone ever told you, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar?”

“Yes. Have you ever thought leaving honey out attracts flies and I don’t want flies buzzing around?”

“Exactly. They get stuck. Then, they die a slow, sticky death.”

“Thanks for the tip. And you’re not walking me home. I’m walking home and you just happen to be here.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“You know what would make me happy?” I ask, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk.

“Hmm?”

“If you went home and let me walk home by myself like a fully capable adult.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, not happening.”

I huff, stopping in my tracks. “You know what else would make me happy?”

Rory stops beside me and turns, his gaze steady. “What?”

“If you actually listened to me.”

Rory steps closer. He’s towering above me, his thighs nearly touching mine. “You know what would make me happy?”

I swallow, trying to not let his proximity affect me. “What?”

He leans in. “If you admitted that having me here doesn’t bother you as much as you pretend it does.” His voice is rough, with amusement and something else entirely.

That’s when I feel the lump against my thigh. It’s not as impressive as I’d imagined it would be. Not that I’ve imagined what Rory’s hard cock would feel like, because I haven’t. Obviously.

I take a step back and glance down at his shorts. “Is there something in your pocket?”

“Actually, yeah.”

Rory laughs, then proceeds to pull a cellophane package out of his shorts pocket and starts to unwrap it.

I recognize it as a Little Sunshine Cakes choco swirl roll. I’d know those things anywhere.

“Do you want a bite?” he asks.

I stare at the log of chocolate cake and frosting he’s offering me. “No.”

We start walking again, and as he eats, he makes the most obscene noises. A deep, throaty moan with every bite. When we pass a couple on the street, I think about ducking behind a tree to avoid being seen with him.

“I would think choco swirl rolls wouldn’t be in a swimmer’s diet.”

“It’s Friday.” He grins around another bite. “Cheat day.”

“That’s what you choose to eat for your cheat day?” I ask, perplexed. “Out of all the possible choices you have to indulge?”

---