Page 34 of Stroked Hard
Smiling, I relax in my seat and focus on Hollis’s voice, distracting myself from the emotional shit I just went through. “I would never say that.”
“Well, you do in my dreams all the time. You say it a lot in my dreams actually, which makes me think you’re some kind of harlot.”
“Is there a reason for this phone call?”
“Other than getting to hear your voice?”
Damn, he’s smoother than I expected.
“Yes, other than you trying to lay it down smooth for me.”
“So you’ve noticed I’ve been flirting? Well, that’s good to know.” There is so much cocky laughter in his mesmerizing voice that I can’t contain the smile that’s spread across my face.
“Flirting? Oh, sounds more like begging to me.”
“Baby, you have no idea.”
Just like that, my once sour mood has been lifted with this simple and meaningless conversation. How does he do that to me? How does he make things seem so . . . simple? Why do his small, senseless conversations make me feel less alone in this giant world?
I can’t even begin to think about it because it terrifies me. Those are feelings I never want to encounter, feelings Iwon’tallow myself to encounter.
“Were you going to tell me why you called?”
“Man, you act like you have somewhere to be.”
“I’m actually about to board my plane,” I lie.
“That is a lie, but nice try. Talked to Reese earlier, and he told me you two were on a red-eye.”
“Uh, stalk much?” I ask with humor.
“When it comes to the object of my affection, I need to know where she is at all times.”
“That’s not creepy at all,” I say full of sarcasm.
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.” He’s so sure of himself. It’s borderline irritating. “But back to the topic at hand. Why I called. Basically it’s because I heard through Reese who heard through Paisley that while you slept you were moaning and saying my name, so I wanted to dissect that and see what we come up with. Maybe a date, maybe a late-night fuck followed by a date, and don’t forget . . . holding hands.”
He just said so many things that I can’t focus. I was not moaning at night.
Was I?
No! I wasn’t. I don’t moan in my sleep.
Hand holding? What’s with him and his hand holding?
“I was not moaning in my sleep.”
“I have sources that say otherwise.” He’s so sure, now I have to fact check because the thought of me moaning his name in the middle of the night makes my cheeks heat so damn bad, I feel like they are going to melt off. Paisley wouldn’t say anything to Reese, would she?
Wait . . .
“You said Paisley told Reese since she heard me moaning?”
“That’s correct,” he answers. “Looks like they tell each other everything. I would be careful what you say around Paisley; you wouldn’t want the fact that you’re madly in love with me getting out in the open. Might blow up your spot.”
