Page 76 of Stroked Hard
A clash from the kitchen sounds off as my mom says, “Oops, just dropped a fork. Everything is okay.”
Her voice pulls me back into reality. I gently push against Hollis’s chest, giving us distance. His heady eyes look down at me, and fuck me, all I want to do is kick my mom out of my apartment right about now. Just one night . . .
Leaning forward, he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “Fuck me, baby. I’m going to have to think of Uncle Wade’s hairy back in order to get my cock under control. I’ve missed you.”
Why does a little part of me want to say I missed you too?
I’m so screwed.
“Uh, soap and water are in the sink.” Duh, where else would they be? “Towel is on the rack. I’ll get you a plate for your food. Meet us in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
Smiling at my awkwardness, he cups my cheek and says, “Your pink nails are hot as fuck. I can’t wait to see them gripping my cock.”
I swallow hard and don’t acknowledge his little statement because if I do, I know it will come true, so I head out to the kitchen unfortunately turned-on and less than thrilled that my mom is here right now.
When I enter the kitchen, she gives me a knowing smirk. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Don’t have any kind of love life, huh? Seems like you two are awfully cozy.”
“He’s just touchy and hopeful. He doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“As he shouldn’t. He’s a good man for pursuing you and knowing the value of you as a person.”
“Mom, it’s nothing.”
“What’s nothing?” Hollis asks, walking in on our conversation. “Is she talking about me, Carla? Telling you false information?”
“She says there’s nothing between you two.”
“Mom,” I reprimand. Uh hello, where’s the loyalty?
“Nothing between us, huh?” Hollis asks with a playful look. Oh no, I feel like I know that look. “Want to explain why there is lipstick on my lips right now?” He points to my mouth, and I instantly flush.
“Oh my God,” I mutter with my head down. Focusing on the lo mein in front of me, I divvy out my portion.
“That does seem incriminating,” my mom answers with a laugh while nudging my shoulder.
I don’t say a word, I can’t. It’s all too humiliating. What must my mom think right now?
Standing next to me, Hollis pulls me in by my shoulders and kisses my head. “She’s shy about her feelings for me. Isn’t that right, baby cakes?”
Talking from between my teeth, I say, “I’m going to kick you in the balls.”
Backing up, as if I burned him, he replies, “Ooo, touchy today.”
Without another word, we all fill up our plates with rice, noodles, steamed veggies and some General Tso’s chicken . . . plus egg rolls, and sit at the little four-person table right outside my kitchen. My mom brings Hollis a drink because she’s not the bitter hostess I currently am, and we start eating.
I think we’re done with the whole “relationship talk” when Hollis opens his mouth. “Carla, tell me why our beautiful little Melony carries such a strong disapproval of relationships. I need to know because whatever is floating around in that gorgeous head of hers is really delaying the progress I want to make when it comes to making her mine.”
“Making her yours? That’s a little cave-like, don’t you think?” Thank you, Mom. Finally.
Shaking his head, Hollis wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Not the way I see it, Carla.” I hate how confident he is when he speaks. “You see, I’m a true romantic. I believe that when you’re with someone, you’re with them for a purpose, not just to mess around, but to form an unyielding bond. A bond that will not only serve as a foundation of friendship, but also a foundation for love and respect. If I’m with someone, I’m with them one hundred percent, which means I’m theirs: mind, body and soul. I expect nothing less in return.”
Nodding her head, she takes a sip of her drink. “That is the kind of relationship I’ve always dreamt of for Melony. I want someone to take care of her, to worship her, to make her feel important.”
“And I can’t wait to do all of those things. I just need her to give in a little so I can show her I’m the kind of man she deserves.”
They are talking to each other as if I’m not sitting here. The worst part about all of this, everything Hollis is saying is slowly breaking down my defenses. He’s making it almost impossible for me to keep pushing him away, despite my reservations. Why does he have to be so sweet? Why does he have to say all the right things? Can I trust that he’s being truthful? Is he a man of his word? Or is he wishy-washy like my father?
