Page 63 of Stroked Hard
“Oh, we were talking about Hollis,” Paisley interrupts with a smile on her face. “Let’s go back to that.”
“Let’s not.”
“Come on, you have to tell me something.”
“I have to?” I question with a laugh.
“Yes, it will make us closer. Let’s do some girl sharing.”
Paisley sits in a chair next to my station and props her chin in her hand as she leans on one of the tables. Exhaling loudly, I realize she isn’t going to drop the topic.
“Fine, you get one thing. Don’t ask for anything else.”
“Promise.” She crosses her heart.
Hmm . . . what to tell her. Definitely not about last night, even though having an orgasm just from nipple play is worthy of conversation, I don’t want her to know that. I will keep that little nugget to myself. I don’t want to tell her about our hand-holding bet because then she will ask how I lost and I don’t want to tell her about my knowledge of her welcome mat blowy—despite how hot that is. Hollis jacking off in front of me is also off limits because that would be giving in way too much. Plus, I want to keep that image of his straining muscles, the look of pure ecstasy on his face all to myself.And oh, what an image. I will never need a Leonardo doll when I have the image of Hollis jacking off in my mind.
So what does that leave? Random text messages? That won’t get her off my back . . .
“Well?” she prods.
“Uh . . . you know he’s my neighbor, right?”
“Yeah.” She nods, looking for more.
Oh, I got it.
Smiling, I say, “Last night I was getting ready for a run, stretching—”
“You stretched before you ran?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Save the lecture, I already got one. I get it, I need to warm my muscles before I start stretching.”
“Ooo, did Hollis lecture you about it?” She’s so giddy it’s almost annoying . . . almost.
“He did.” I sigh. “He saw me last night from his window and came down to see what I was doing. He then proceeded to jog with me even though he had a serious workout that day.”
Paisley shakes her head and laughs. “That boy has it so bad for you.”
Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. What we want are totally different things and the last thing I want to do is hurt someone, especially someone who “has it bad for me.”What I don’t get is why he won’t give up.
“Reese was telling me the other day how much Hollis likes you,” Paisley continues, drawing my attention. “Hollis is apparently convinced that you two will get married one day. It’s so cute. He’s actually a really sweet man. From what Reese has told me, Hollis doesn’t sleep around, but only sleeps with women he’s very serious about; he’s always been a relationship guy. You don’t find guys like that very often.”
Yeah, I never find guys like that because they don’t exist.At least, not for me.
But if I had to take a guess, Hollis might be as close to that illustrious, yet mythical man as they come.
Paisley sighs and says, “I’m not going to lie, Melony, he really likes you. Reese said he’s never seen him act the way he does when he’s around you.” She pauses for a second and then asks the one question I really didn’t want to answer. “Do you like him?”
Ugh, this feels like middle school. Did Hollis set Paisley up to ask these questions? I wouldn’t put it past him. The man is not afraid to ask anyone to help him out when he’s in pursuit. Hell, he even threw his friend under the table with some juicy gossip just to hold my hand.
“Melon! My lips are chapped,” Bellini calls from the hallway, using my stupid nickname that she gave me. “I need ChapStick or I might actually die. Pronto. Melon!”
Saved by the bitch . . . unfortunately.
Shrugging at Paisley and avoiding the question altogether, I secure Bellini’s favorite ChapStick in my hand and take off down the hallway, Paisley’s voice echoing through my mind.
He really likes you.
