Page 105 of Stroked Hard
“That was never a thing,” she shouts in the phone while I laugh out loud.
***
“What happened to sending me a boob picture?”
“Not going to happen. I don’t send naked selfies.”
“What if you photocopy your boobs and then take a picture of that and send it to me? Technically it’s not a naked selfie and you can practice for when you have to get a mammogram done. It’s a win-win for everyone,” I say, unpacking my bag and putting things away in my dorm. The perk of being a veteran: not having to share a room.
“You’re impossible.”
“No, I’m horny. I haven’t seen your gorgeous body and beautiful face in a week. I fucking miss you.”
“Are you buttering me up?”
“Is it working?”
“Are you trying to get a naked pic?” she counters.
“Always.”
“Then no.” She laughs.
“Why do you hate me?”
“I’m grounding you. You can’t have everything, Hollis.”
Smiling to myself, I say, “I already do. I have you.”
I’m ready for her to bust my balls but instead, she says, “You’re sweet.”
That’s fucking right. Noah Calhoun.
***
“What do you do all day?”
“Besides buying you a pair of Brazilian-cut underwear for every day we are apart?” I ask, staring up at my ceiling.
“I hope you’re not. It would be a waste of money.”
“One of these days I’m going to get you to wear underwear.”
“Why would you want me to wear underwear? Don’t you want easy access?” she asks, settling into her pillow. FaceTime is the best thing ever. Thank you, Apple. God bless your techy minds.
“I love pulling underwear off with my teeth. You’ve deprived me of this luxury.”
“You’ll live. So what do you do?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Practice, eat carrots, and practice some more.”
“Carrots? That’s very unlike you.”
“I know.” I pout. “Baby, I haven’t had ice cream in so long. Combine that with not being able to eat you out, and I’m practically starving.”
“It’s like you’re living in squalor.”
“I am.” I hang my lower lip. “There is only one thing that can cure me.”
