Page 66 of Stroked Hard
I’m settling in for a long make-out session, letting every throb and delightful sensation roll through me when Hollis removes his lips away from mine and works them up my jaw.
Yessss . . .
Oh God, yes. Chills spread over my skin from the feel of his scruff against my face, his lips a stark soft contrast soothing the rough marking of his jaw. Moving just below my ear, he kisses me in just the right spot, moving his lips again, putting me on the edge of taking all my clothes off and pouncing this man. How can he do so little but make me want so much more?
Preparing for another orgasm from only his hips rubbing against mine, I brace myself as his lips find my ear. Right when I think he’s going to bite my lobe, he speaks with a dangerous warning tone. “Fuck you, you don’t want this.” His breath is heavy, his words slicing me in half. “Don’t fucking lie to me ever again, Melony. You won’t like the consequences.”
Releasing me, he puts a great deal of distance between our bodies, leaving me cold, breathless, and needy. His hand grips his hair as he studies me from under his lashes.
Shaking his head, he vacates my apartment while calling out, “This is far from over, baby.”
I don’t know how long I stand there, motionless, stunned, completely and utterly shocked from Hollis’s intense physical and sexual attack. Everything he did in the last five minutes was the most exciting, enthralling, and sexy thing that’s ever happened to me.
I’ve had my fair share of men in my life but none of them compare to Hollis. Does that make him different? Would he be the exception everyone talks about? Would he be the one that would stay?
Is that even possible?
Is that even possible?
There are plenty of people out there who are still together, who have found their “soul mates” but that doesn’t mean it would happen to me.
I’m damaged, not good enough to keep around. I’m not the one a man would stay for.
If my own father, my flesh and blood, doesn’t want me to be a part of his life . . .Heheld my hand.Heheld me in his arms.Hekissed my forehead.Hetucked me in at night.Hemade me breakfast, albeit occasionally.
And thenheleft.
If I’m not enough for my own damn father, how could I be enough for anyone else?
An unwanted tear slips from my eye that I quickly wipe away, not letting myself feel such asinine emotions. He’s long gone. He chose his life. He chose to leave, to burn a hole so deep inside me that there is no possible filler.
Not even one Hollis can fill. Even if he is the best man there is, and my head knows that’s probably the case, and even thoughhe likes me, I won’t be enough. I won’t be enough to keep him, and I don’t want to cry myself to sleep again.
I don’t want to feel cast aside ever again.
Staring at the flowers, I eye the note tucked within the beautiful blooms. What could he possibly have said in that little note? Is it the joking Hollis who always wants my boob in his mouth? Or is it the serious Hollis, the one that tears my walls down with one heated gaze in my direction, the one who speaks of the possibilities of forever?
Please let it be the joking Hollis. I’m not sure I can handle anything else right now.
With a shaky hand, I reach for the envelope and slowly open it.
His chicken scratch is written in red ink. The note is simple . . . but catastrophic to my desire to stay strong, to maintain my ambivalent façade.
You’re everything I’ve ever wished for in a woman . . . and more.
Tears well up in my eyes as I slump against the wall, flowers in hand, note in the other. I find a seat on the floor, completely deflated.
I’m everything he ever wished for . . .
Then why do I feel so damn broken?
Chapter Fifteen
HOLLIS
“Will the landslide bring you . . . doooooown,” I sing to my heart’s content, glancing over at Holly who is smirking.
“You’re a terrible singer.”
