Stroked Hard

  Finally reaching my apartment, we stop in front of the door where Hollis turns me to face him. His eyes are heated, his hair is perfectly messy from our run, and that body of his is sun-kissed and muscular. The light of the hallway bounces off every contour of his chest.

  This is not faring well for me.

  He lets go of my hand, and grips my hips instead, slowly pushing me against the wall.

  Nope, this isn’t good at all.

  “Do you remember what I told you the other night?” he asks, leaning forward, his body heat turning the temperature up between us.

  I take a second to swallow before nodding. “Yeah.”

  “And what was it that I said?”

  Of course he’s going to make me say it.

  Shyly, looking up from under my lashes, I say, “Something about no more good-night hugs.”

  “Correct.” He leans forward even more, his body now flush against mine. “What else did I mention?”

  Nervously, I answer, “Something about lips touching.”

  He chuckles and that sound nearly destroys me. I’m nervous, I’m seriously nervous, and I never get nervous. Where’s my backbone? Where’s my moral ground? Where the hell is my sassy voice that would normally be turning down this man who has made it known he wants me?

  She’s long gone. Bare-chested, ungodly sexy-smelling Hollis chased her away.

  My vagina has taken over all decisions regarding the man standing in front of me.

  His hand runs up my side and cups my cheek, followed by the gentle pull of his thumb on my bottom lip, his face inching even closer.

  God, he’s going to kiss me. And I’m going to let him.

  “These lips right here.” He sighs . . . freaking sighs. “These lips were one of the first things I noticed about you. How they shined, begging for me to come brand them with my own. I’ve dreamt of these lips and I’m finally going to take what I want from them.”

  My heart is pounding rapidly in my chest, my breath has escaped me, and he leans forward, closing the gap between us, I can’t help but internally beg him to keep moving forward.

  Please don’t let this be a joke. Just one taste. Just one night. That’s all I want. One night with Hollis. So he’ll move on.

  With one last press of my hips against my front door, Hollis traps me in his grip and guides his lips down on mine.

  Soft.

  Gentle.

  Intoxicating.

  It’s the only way I know how to describe what he’s doing. His mouth is closed, there is no tongue, there is no urgency; it’s cautious but antsy at the same time.

  Every bit of my body is tingling with excitement from the way he feels against my body, from the way his hands grip me just right, and from the way his lips roam about mine, never deepening the kiss into anything other than a light press of my mouth against his.

  He makes me want to beg for more. Soft movements send my body into a vortex of heat, sweeping me up into an eternal state of arousal. Just from a kiss.

  A simple kiss is throwing my world for a loop. Everything I’ve ever known is changing from this small and innocent kiss. I’ve never been kissed like this.

  A sexy, clit-clenching moan flows from the depths of his throat out of his mouth as he pulls away. Seductively, while staring me directly in the eyes, he licks his lips, savoring the flavor on them.

  Crap, that’s so freaking hot.

  “Just what I thought. You taste like fucking heaven, baby.”

  If I taste like heaven then why did he stop? Shouldn’t he want to keep going?

  So I want him to keep going? That’s the real question I should be asking here. Get it together, Mel. You’re not supposed to be giving in.

  But . . .

  It’s Hollis Knightly. Hollis FREAKING Knightly. There is only so much I can do when it comes to turning him down.

  I search his eyes, not really sure what to say. I taste like heaven. Do I say thank you? Do I punch him in the stomach and tell him to leave me alone? Do I rip his pants down, pull a Paisley, and blow him on my welcome mat? Although a charming thought, I don’t believe I’ll be partaking in a welcome-mat blowy.

  My wandering mind doesn’t give me a chance to say anything in response as he parts, putting distance between us. There is a light sheen of sweat caressing his chest now, his eyes hazy, sexy . . . so damn perfect. Is he turned on just as much as I am? If he is, would he fuck me if I asked him to?

  Would he be able to carry on with a one-night stand and not look for anything after that? I’m guessing that will be a no since he’s already claimed to be my future husband. Boy, is he going to be disappointed when that little dream of his doesn’t come true.

  He pulls on his hair, his bicep flexing, his abs contracting. Seriously . . . Fuck. Me.

  “I have to get out of here before I do something completely inappropriate.”

  Completely inappropriate? What the hell? Pushing my luck, I ask, “Like what?”

  His head is bent toward the floor. His hand is running through his hair as his eyes glance up at me and a wicked smile caresses his mouth. “Like what? Well for one, pulling down the cup of your bra and sucking on your tit right here in the hallway of your apartment building, followed by a good finger fucking. Shit.” He pulls on his hair some more. “What I wouldn’t give to sink my fingers into that sweet pussy of yours.” He takes a deep breath, whereas I can’t find my breath to save my life. “But not tonight.”

  Backing away some more, he looks pained as he continues to put distance between us. He bites his bottom lip, looks me up and down, his gaze blazing a trail of fire all across my skin.

  “Fuck, I have to go. Until next time, boo.” He winks and takes off down the stairs, his shirt, that’s tucked in the back of his low-riding shorts, flapping against his legs.

  I stand there for a few moments in the hallway, trying to calm down my raging hormones, my racing heart, and the throbbing that’s taken up residence between my legs.

  Shit, there is only one thing that can stop that.

  Making work of my lock, I let myself in my apartment, lock up, and head to my bedroom, bypassing everything until I reach my shower. Not even bothering to turn the heat on, I strip down and take the coldest shower I can muster. It’s torture, and by the time I’m finished, it’s done nothing for to calm me down.

  Which means . . .

  I put on a pair of my favorite lacey boy shorts, a crop top that sits just below my breasts, let my hair air dry, and brush my teeth. Getting ready for bed has never been so fast, especially with images of Hollis running through my head. Not to mention, the feel of his lips burning me, imprinting on me, making one hell of an impression with just the gentle caress of his mouth.

  He didn’t even use tongue, for goodness sake, and here I am, charging into my bed, legs spread, and vibrator in hand.

  Only needing my clit stimulator since I’m already throbbing and ready to go, I press it in just the right place, turn on the power, and relax into my mattress.

  Yesss . . .

  It’s not what I really want, but it will do.

  The vibration shocks me between my legs, releasing a cool, slick sweat along my skin. My breath hitches and my toes start to go numb. That’s how close I am. I knew it wouldn’t take very long. I’m moving the stimulator ever so slightly, my hips unable to stay in one place, reaching for the precipice of my orgasm.

  I’m right there. I can feel everything start to tumble just as there is a loud knock at my door, startling the shit out of me.

  “Christ!” I shout. Stumbling off the mattress, fumbling with my vibrator so it rolls under my bed. Another knock follows a ring of my doorbell.

  Who the hell could be coming over now?

  Unless . . .

  My face turns even brighter as I hear Hollis’s voice from down the hall.

  “Melony, I know you’re in there. Open up.”

  Oh no, what does he want? Is it to finish what he started? Will he be able to tell I already got a he
ad start on that?

  Tip toing to the entryway, I answer, “What do you want?”

  “Open up. I need help.”

  He sounds genuine, like he actually needs help and is not going to ask for help in getting off by a handy in the hallway.

  Conceding, I open the doorway, forgetting completely what I’m wearing until Hollis takes me in, his eyes turning to molten lava.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, running his hand over his face. Looking down, he says, “Uh, I need to stay at your place tonight.”

  “Let me guess, because you have an itch only I can scratch?” There is the sass I was missing earlier.

  “Well, that’s true but that’s not why I have to spend the night. I locked myself out of my condo and no one is in the office to give me a spare key. I don’t have my phone either, so I’m kind of fucked right about now.”

  Smiling, I ask, “And why did you lock yourself out of your apartment?” I hold on to the side of the doorframe, casually striking a pose. I know it’s sexy as fuck by the way Hollis scans me from head to toe.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “I was too fucking distracted by you stretching to remember how to be a responsible human. Really, this is all your fault, so I would appreciate a warm shower and a comfy bed.”

  I study him. “You’re serious.”

  He nods. “Very much so.” Then, without waiting for an invitation, he pushes past me and walks in my apartment, taking it all in. “Wow, nice place, baby cakes. I’m impressed, and kind of turned on by that heavenly scent.” Turning around, I step into the light and he takes me in once more, this time, the smile on his face turning into stone. Uh oh, that doesn’t look like a happy face. Stepping forward, he scans me once more and then swallows hard.

  “What is it?” I ask, feeling slightly self-conscious.

  He cradles my cheek and in a deep, sultry voice, he says, “You’re flushed.”

  His observation makes me blush even more. “It’s hot in here.”

  “It’s not.” He nods at my chest where my nipples are hard as rocks. Thanks a lot, sparkle nips. “What were you doing before I got here?”

  “Nothing,” I respond quickly. Too quickly. Making it quite obvious.

  Stepping even closer, he says, “Don’t lie to me, baby. What were you doing?”

  “It’s none of your business.” Completely embarrassed I’ve been caught, I turn away and say, “You can have the couch. I’ll grab a towel for you so you can take a shower.”

  I feel him come up behind me, his hands on my hips holding me in place. Lowering his mouth down to my ear, his touch tickling my skin, he says, “No way in hell I’m sleeping on that tiny sofa. It’s your bed and nothing else, baby.”

  How did I know he was going to say that? And with my luck, I know he won’t let me sleep alone. There is no way I’ll be able to get Hollis to sleep on the couch by himself. There is also no way I will sleep. Period.

  “Let me get you that towel.” I swallow hard, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle.

  ***

  What’s taking him so long? Is he jacking off in my shower? I wouldn’t put it past him. It seems like it’s been an hour since I showed him where the shower was. Would he jack off with my soap, loving the way his dick would smell like me? Is that something men like?

  Weird if it is. Men are just weird in general.

  The shower is off, the fan is off, and finally the light turns off, followed by Hollis exiting the bathroom. And what a freaking sight to see. You would think after seeing so many photos last night, I would be immune. But, his chest is still glistening, little droplets of water hang off his hair that’s piled on top of his head, and his shorts ride dangerously low on his hips. But this time, there is no underwear line to hold them up. Shit.

  The temptation to bang my head against the wall is overwhelming. He’s not just hot, he’s gorgeous too, almost too pretty for a man with just the right ounce of ruggedness caressing his jaw with his scruff.

  His parents have some damn good genes.

  “You didn’t have to wait up for me,” he says casually as he climbs into bed next to me, like it’s something he does every night. How can he possibly be so at ease with what’s happening? I’m bouncing off the wall with nerves.

  “I didn’t want you to get scared in the dark,” I answer lamely.

  “Aw, look at you being cute. I would have been fine, baby. Don’t forget, I’m a tough manly man.”

  That makes me snort. I turn off the light, cascading the room in darkness. I keep my back toward Hollis and snuggle up with my pillow. There is a dip in the bed and just like that, Hollis is spooning me from behind, his palm pressing against my bare stomach and his head buried in my hair.

  “What are you doing?” My voice wavers from nerves.

  “Snuggling. What are you doing?”

  “Uh, we don’t snuggle,” I point out.

  “Now we do.” He pulls me in closer with one arm, his hand branding me with its width.

  I can’t breathe. Everything about this is screaming relationship, and it’s throwing me into a tailspin of anxiety. Mix that with the almost orgasm I had earlier and Hollis’s brand of flirting, and I’m on the verge of losing it.

  I can’t do this. This is not me. I don’t hold hands, and I sure as hell don’t snuggle. I’ve never had a man pressed up behind me, his arm wrapped around me, his hand burning through my skin. Yet for some reason, it feels nice.

  What the hell?

  Nice?

  No, it doesn’t feel nice, it feels like something I can’t handle, something I don’t want. And yet, I’m still allowing it happen.

  It’s just because I want him. I want him so bad for one night that I’m willing to give in to these little relationship-type things he’s initiating.

  That’s what I tell myself at least.

  “Relax, baby,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  That voice cuts right through me, sending a wave a heat through my body, settling in my core, letting me know once again, I haven’t gotten off.

  Knowing I won’t get any sleep without relaxing, I shift slightly on the bed to melt into his embrace. He shifts as well to accommodate my new position, causing his hand to slide up my stomach and his fingers to barely caress my bare breasts that peek out just below the crop top I’m wearing that has risen from my shift.

  We’re both still, our breathing paused. My entire body heats up from the touch. It is so small, the smallest of grazes, but oh my God, it ignites a flame inside me.

  That small touch does everything I don’t want tonight. It turns me on. It makes me want more. That’s why I find my body shifting down so his fingers graze me again. This time, I hear the catch in his breath and from behind, there is no mistaking how he’s hardening by the second.

  We lie there, not saying a word, not moving, just feeling the palpable energy that’s bouncing between us.

  What is he going to do next? It’s obvious he’s hard; will he flip me over and finally fuck me like I want? Or will he ignore the touch and go to sleep? Please not the latter. I will wilt into dust if I go without an orgasm tonight.

  From behind, he takes a deep breath. As he exhales, his hand moves a little higher, his fingers just below my breasts now. My heart is pounding in my chest; my senses are on overload.

  Just do it, Hollis, please just fucking touch me.

  As if he can read my mind, his finger glides along the tender skin of my breast, just at the bottom, not even coming close to the nipple, but the feeling of him touching me, does something to my libido, skyrocketing it into overdrive.

  Breathing hard, I puff my chest out and push my head back, wanting him to feel more.

  Which he does, but not where I want him to.

  With his index finger and thumb, he slowly slides them up the sides of my breasts and then back to the bottom, barely skimming my skin. It’s just a whisper of a touch, whisper of a cupping with his fingers, and it’s torture. Pure torture.

/>   A throbbing sensation overtakes my clit, and my stomach burns with need. Everything in me is aware and awakened from his touch.

  My head bows back against his shoulder, and his mouth finds my ear, where I can hear his heavy breathing, his aroused breathing. It’s erotic, intoxicating. He’s affected as much as I am.

  His fingers continue to move along the sides of my breasts, the sensation something I’ve never felt before. It’s gentle, exploratory, almost . . . loving. He doesn’t want to ravage me, he wants to learn me, worship me.

  And hell if he isn’t learning right now that I’m a boob girl.

  From the small caresses he’s made, I’m soaking wet. I’m throbbing. I’m primed and ready to go.

  Leaning so his mouth is directly over my ear, his hand still in place, he runs his nose along the edge and when he reaches my lobe, he pulls it into his mouth and rolls it between his teeth just as his fingers inch closer to my nipple but never touching it.

  I can’t help it, I can’t hold back. I moan. I moan his name on an exhale of breath. The sound seems foreign to me. I’m never vocal in bed, but with Hollis, it seems different. He treats me differently.

  Instead of thinking about what the hell is happening between us, I just feel.

  His fingers caress my sensitive skin, skim it softly, like angel kisses over my breast. The pounding of my clit. The slick arousal between my legs. His mouth working my ear, his breath heavy, his erection pinned against my ass.

  And what an erection. What I wouldn’t give to have it inside me right now. I’m practically begging in my head.

  “Hollis,” I gasp as he gets closer to my nipple. God, just touch it, please just touch it. The torture is almost unbearable. I’m so aroused right now. Every movement, every smell, every sound is escalated.

  “Mel,” he whispers. I’ve never heard this Hollis. He’s . . . quiet, almost reverent.

  I feel so alive. At this moment, all I can think about is his fingers touching my nipple, just one little touch, one little sweep . . .

  He bites down on my earlobe and wraps his fingers around my nipple. I have a praise Jesus moment for one second before he pinches it hard, rolling the nub between his fingers.