Thankfully, the announcer, speaking in English and then Portuguese, drowns out Bellini’s voice. The next race, according to my schedule, is Reese’s first heat. Some races have prelims, semi-finals, and then finals, but for the 400M Individual Medley, they just have a round of heats and then the finals, which take place this evening. It’s a grueling schedule for those swimming in multiple events. I can’t imagine Reese doing more than the races he already has, which is three. His other two races are later in the week.
Cheers erupt through the stadium as some of the first swimmers from Australia and Great Britain are announced. There is something to be said about the atmosphere of the Games: the best athletes from around the world coming together to compete, you can’t help but get chills from it.
“And in lane four, from the United States of America, Reese King.”
An uproarious chant for Reese starts all around us, and I’m that girl who joins in, clapping my hands and screaming at the top of my lungs. Melony stands next to me, doing the same, and it isn’t until my side starts to hurt that I realize Bellini is poking me in the rib with her nail file.”
“Yes?” I ask her, losing my patience.
“Did you realize you look like a two-ton out-of-work Komodo dragon when you scream and bounce around like that? It’s very unflattering.”
“Noted,” I grit out, so not in the mood to listen to Bellini’s shit.
“No wonder you have to lie about being a lesbian and hide the fact you’re dating a man by the name of Clyde. I would be ashamed of myself too if I had your pores. Do you even exfoliate?”
I’m two seconds from blasting my fist through Bellini’s throat only to strangle her with her own esophagus when Jasper turns in his chair and looks up at us, camera crew in tow.
“Bellini, I suggest you hold your tongue for the next few minutes while the camera is on you. We need film of you watching this race.”
She rolls her eyes and picks at a piece of lint on her skirt. “I’m not some marionette puppet that you get to pull around. I am a real human being.”
“Are you? Seems more like you’re a disciple of Satan,” Jasper mutters just loud enough to hear over the announcer.
“How dare you,” Bellini roars, drawing attention from our surrounding seatmates. “I will have you fired for that.” Straightening in her chair, she puffs out her chest and fixes her cardigan that is starting to fall off her shoulders. “This entire production is forming a mutiny against me. I will remind all of you, including you, Melon, that I am the one in charge. I am the talent, and the lies, the comments, the nasty retorts are going to stop now or you’re not going to like what happens. My dad knows people in the mafia. I can have you all slaughtered in seconds and then put through a wood chipper. I would watch what you say.”
Jasper doesn’t even blink an eye. “Bellini, you need us more than we need you, simple as that. So you can either drop the threats and start acting like a professional, or you can walk away. I will release you from your contract right now.”
“Fine, release me,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sure I can find another network—”
“You can’t,” say Jasper. “No one will want to work with you. You have a bad reputation. So, put a smile on your face, look at the camera, and cheer for Reese, because the race is about to start.”
“Barbarian,” she screams, but then like a demonic human being, plasters a fake smile on her face, waves a mini American flag, and looks down at the pool with all the intention of cheering for Reese. I’ve never seen someone morph that quickly; it’s quite frightening.
Shaking my head, I turn toward the pool as the swimmers prepare to stand on the blocks. My eyes are fixed on Reese as he starts whacking his arms and legs, warming up his muscles. Everything in his body flexes and shakes as he focuses on the lane in front of him.
His jammers hang low on his waist, showing off his deep V and the stomach muscles I ran my tongue over a few weeks ago. I miss his body, the warm heat of his skin, the way his lips run across my ear as he whispers into it. It’s been too long since I’ve been with him and even though FaceTime has been helpful, it’s not the same. I want his touch. I need it.
After this race. Before the finals tonight.
Together, the swimmers take their places on the diving blocks. Some of them fidget with their goggles, others check their hair in their swim cap, and then there is Reese. He stands tall on his block, his tattoo making him easily identifiable from the rest of the swimmers. His stature screams power, confidence, and in this moment, I know he’s going to accomplish everything he’s dreamed of. This Olympics is his.
Bending over, the swimmers grip the edge of the block and plant their feet askew. Back muscles and toned arms vibrate down the line, waiting to be released. I wait in anticipation for the beep to sound.
“Take your mark.” The crowd dies down, and the venue is almost completely silent. Then, a simple beep and the race begins.
Reese jumps off the block, flying through the air and straight into the water. Like a fish, he propels himself underwater only to surface into the butterfly stroke. His commanding arms rotate in and out of the water, shooting him forward ahead of the pack.
Just from talking to Reese, I know his best strokes are the butterfly and free, backstroke being his worst, so he needs to a good lead going into the backstroke which is next.
Cheers echo around me. The announcers call out who is in the lead through the speakers, and right next to me, Bellini cheers, calling out to Reese, “You got this, baby.”
Yeah, I can’t help the sneer that appears on my face as I look her up and down. It’s a territorial thing that takes over me. I can deal with the occasional touches here and there, and the fake smile Reese has to put on when he’s around the evil wench, but her calling him baby, that doesn’t sit well.
It doesn’t sit so well that I fake a yawn and knock her in the ribs.
I’m not proud of it, but I do feel a little better.
She buckles over and then snaps her head in my direction. Her eyes speak murder.
I cover my mouth. “Oops, I’m sorry Bellini, did I hit you?”
She doesn’t acknowledge me, instead she turns to Jasper and says, “Did you get that on tape? I’m suing for battery.”
Jasper rolls his eyes. “It was an accident, now start cheering again.”
Relieved Jasper doesn’t take any of her shit, I turn back to the race where Reese is swimming his last lap of butterfly. As desired, he has a significant lead going into the next stroke.
Clasping my hands together, I focus in on the one man who’s stolen my heart in the past month. From the moment he entered the photo shoot in a leopard-print Speedo, when he bumped my shoulder at the beach, to when he took me up against my bedroom wall and showed me how a real man takes care of his woman, he’s captivated me. I’ve fallen for him so incredibly hard.
The 400m Individual Medley is the longest race Reese will compete in, and I’m feeling its length now as I wait on bated breath for him to finish each stroke. It’s thrilling, nerve-racking, and heart stopping as the swimmers battle for the lead. I know it’s just the first heat, but I still have my entire heart out on the line, begging him to be first, hoping and praying he makes it to the finals. I’m invested, wholeheartedly invested in his dreams.
Rounding out the last stretch, Reese plows through the water with his freestyle stroke, his legs kicking rapidly behind him, and his tattoo peeking out of the water with every rotation.
He’s closing in just as Melony grabs my hand. The minute his fingers touch the wall before everyone else, we both cheer while raising our clasped hands together. Bellini joins in for about five seconds and then sits down in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest.
I don’t even bother to listen to her complains about how her feet already hurt from standing or how she can feel the chlorine from the pool start to eat away at her porcelain skin. No, my attention is on the man whose swim cap is now in his hand and his hair is an unruly mess of black curls. Looking up in my direction he points and I nearly faint from the smile plastered across his face.
Oh, fuck. I have it so bad for him.
***
This isn’t a good idea. I
know
it’s not a good idea—I can feel it in my bones—but I don’t care at this point. I need to see him. I need to feel him. I need to run my hands up under his shirt and caress his soft and smooth skin.
I twist my hands in front of me while I wait in the Olympic Aquatics Stadium corridor. He sent me a text when he got back to the locker room to meet him in this spot because according to him, he needed to “be deep inside me.”
He is right, athletes do have a high libido, and hell, I think it’s rubbed off on me, because every chance I can get, I’m pulling my panties down for him, even if it is over the phone. And every time, I climaxed with pure pleasure running through me. Doesn’t matter if he is touching me or if it is the deep tone of his melodic voice floating over my body. It doesn’t take much when he’s involved.
Melony and Ruby are sent back to the hotel while I come up with an excuse about scouting all the local venues in the area for Fiji water. I don’t know if Bellini buys it but I really don’t care.
“Great race, Reese,” I hear someone call out. “Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Reese’s voice booms through my body. He’s close.
I’m jumping out of my skin with anticipation. I can feel him close in and just when I don’t think I can take it anymore, Reese opens the door to the room I’m in and shuts it behind him quickly, his eyes searing me in half.
With a smile, he grabs the back of his neck and says, “Hey, baby.”
Not even answering him, I leap into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. He catches me easily, holds the back of my head with his palm, and presses his lips against mine. There is no finesse in our kiss, just urgency as our tongues mate and our hands explore. Just like I wanted, I run my hands up his shirt and play with the contours and divots of his stomach, loving the way his freshly showered skin feels under my touch.
Moaning into his mouth, I press deeper, feeling his arousal against my center. Like the horny little woman I am, I rub my pussy against his length, creating an unbelievable friction that has my gut clenching in seconds and my toes curling.
“Oh God, I’ve missed you,” I whisper along his lips, right before his hand digs into my hair, holding me still so he can make small nips along my neck, causing goosebumps up and down my arms.
“I’ve missed you so damn much,” he mutters in between kisses, working his way down to my collarbone. “I need this shirt off.”
“Reese, this is not the best place—”
“Now, Paisley.”
Not one to argue when Reese wants me to take my clothes off, I reach between us, grab the hem of my shirt and take it off, tossing it to the floor. Spinning us so my back is up against a wall, he takes the cups of my bra and pulls them down, exposing my breasts to his feasting mouth. Without taking a second to breathe, his mouth pulls on my right nipple, sucking it in fast and hard.
What once used to be his smooth beard rubbing against my sensitive skin is now a smooth, freshly shaven cheek. It’s a different sensation but still erotic. Nipping lightly, his teeth bite down on my hardened peak as his tongue plays with my barbell.
The combination of his hot breath on my prickling skin and his hand and mouth working in tandem, makes the dull ache in my pussy become an electric throb in my clit. A pounding sensation encompasses me and all I can think about is getting him inside me.
“More, Reese. I need more,” I say breathlessly.
He doesn’t hesitate. Setting me gently down, he pulls his pants down and frees his cock. I make quick work with my shorts and panties only to be bent over a chair by Reese. His cock runs the length of my arousal, casually slipping inside me until I cry out to him. From my cue, he plunges forward. With no hesitation, he holds on to my hips and pounds into me endlessly, hitting me hard and deep. Releasing my hip with one hand, he snakes it around the front of me and pinches my nipple with his forefinger and thumb.
Like a bolt of lightning hitting me dead center, my body erupts in orgasm, tightening around Reese’s cock as he pounds away, releasing his own orgasm at the same time.
Sated, his chest slumps over me, and he kisses my shoulder tenderly, every now and again moving his hips forward, trying to soak up every last twitch and spasm.
“Not the smartest idea we ever had,” I say. “Someone could walk in.”
“It would be worth it,” he says right before kissing my cheek and pulling out. “Hold right there, baby. There are some paper towels over here.”
After-sex stuff is so not sexy but Reese handles it with a gentle and nurturing hand. I don’t feel embarrassed at all and am extremely grateful for having him in my life. He might be rough and talk dirty and need to take me in the moment, but he’s always a cuddly teddy bear after, such a stark and extraordinary contrast.
Once everything is taken care of and we’re dressed again, I cup both of his cheeks and stare him in the eyes. “I’m so proud of you. You looked amazing out there.”
“Is that right?” he asks, a little wiggle to his brow.
“Yes.” I refrain from rolling my eyes at him. “I would even say sexier than Bodi Banks.”
His jaw tenses and even though he knows I’m joking, he still gets pissed. It’s hard not to make fun of him.
“So not funny,” he grits out, making me chuckle.
“You’re ridiculous.” Moving my hands to his chest, I pat his pecs and say, “Do you have time for lunch?”
He shakes his head, sending disappointment through me. “No, I have a lot of press and interviews to do plus I have to keep my body warm and ready for the race tonight. But after, how about I come to your place for some room service? I’m sure Hollis wouldn’t mind distracting Melony for me.”
“Sounds good to me.” I chastely kiss his lips.
Catching me off guard, he leans down, squeezes my ass and then gives me a deep kiss, causing a groan from him. Pulling away, he rests his forehead on mine. “You’re so fucking hot.”