Page 61 of Stroked Hard
“Good,” Holly calls out. “I just added them to today’s workout.”
Pleased with himself, Reese walks away. “Fuck you, man,” I call out, only to hear his laughter trail behind.
Shaking my head, I look down at my phone to read Melony’s text.
Melony: It’s obnoxious how sure you are.
Hollis: Obnoxious? Or downright sexy?
Melony: Obnoxious.
Hollis: Yeah, well, this obnoxious son of a bitch made you come just with a little nipple play last night.
Yup, I tossed that card out real quick, but fuck, I need to make sure she remembers what we did last night, how I made her feel, how she felt in my arms. It’s all about capitalizing on the right moments.
Melony: Less than twenty-four hours and you bring that up. I’m surprised it took you that long.
Hollis: You have to drag these things out sometimes. Have dinner with me tonight.
I want to take her out on a real date but I doubt she’ll allow that. But if I offer a little dinner, maybe I can turn it into the date I want without her knowing.
Melony: Sorry, remember, one-time thing.
Hollis: Fuck that shit. You’re mine, Melony, whether you choose to believe it or not.
Melony: We’ll see.
Yeah, we will fucking see.
“Hollis, stop fingering your phone and start your workout,” Holly calls out over the weight room, causing athletes to turn to me.
Maybe giving her control over my coaching wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.Wait a minute. It wasn’tmyidea. Crap.
Chapter Fourteen
MELONY
“It’s supposed to be lined with gold silk. Is that too much to ask?” Bellini shouts, flinging dog clothing in the air and stomping away, Pocket trailing after her like a lovesick puppy.
I still can’t look at her the same after seeing her weirdly shaped body and all the hair . . . Christ, the hair. It haunts me in my dreams. I still don’t get her nipples. Why were they like that?
“For heaven’s sake stop breathing so loud,” Bellini shouts again to who I can only assume is Pocket. They are both upstairs now, giving me a break from Bellini’s incessant whining.
It’s been non-stop since I arrived to do her hair and makeup. Even though she has nowhere to be or any filming, she still demands I do her hair and makeup. Not every day, thank God, but enough that I get to cash in. Fine by me. A few hours of work for a good chunk of change doesn’t bother me. Pays to be able to erase the devil off someone’s face and actually make them look like a presentable human being.
Paisley walks into the room where I have my makeup set up and she asks, “What was she bitching about now?”
Over the last few weeks, Paisley and I have become pretty close, which is nice since I don’t have many friends. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone about Bellini who actually understands what I go through daily. Usually my mom is my outlet but she doesn’t get Bellini. I don’t think many people do.
“Something about her religious wear for her dog line. Who knows? She could have a cuticle out of place and she starts crying about it.”
“True.” Paisley thinks for a second and then leans forward and whispers, “Is it weird that I had a dream that I slapped her in the face with a seat belt last night?”
“A seat belt?” I laugh. “Might be a little weird that you used a seat belt instead of the sweet satisfaction of a paddle, but the slapping part? No, that sounds about right.”
“A paddle?” Paisley winces. “That seems a little harsh.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Work here as long as I have and you won’t think it’s harsh anymore.”
