“Not really dive in here but flip,” I smile at her.
“That was kind of hot,” she admits with a blush.
I raise my eyebrow. “Really? Well, in that case, I will flip my way around you from now on.”
“Not necessary.” Bouncing in place, she picks up a foam block and tosses it at my head, hitting me between the eyes. “These are fun.”
Being clearly dramatic, I fall back from the hit making sure to grip my head in the process. “Oh no, I’m concussed. I need your tit in my mouth to make me better.”
“I didn’t put my boob in your mouth the first time you faked a concussion, what makes you think I will do it this time?”
I pop up from my prone position. “Because this time you have the knowledge of my tongue making you come two times in a row.”
“Oh my God.” She looks around to see if anyone heard me. “Have you no volume control?”
“I do.” I shout, “Remember the time you took your shirt off—” A block hits me in the head, quieting me down.
“God, you’re so annoying.” She crawls out of the pit or at least tries to. I catch her before she exits and fling both of us back into the pit.
I kiss the side of her face and speak closely into her ear. “Want to dive down a little farther so I can finger you without people seeing?”
Turning to face me, she asks, “Is this your idea of being romantic? Fingering me in a pit of foam while teenagers practice on the other end of the gym? Not very Noah Calhoun of you.”
“To-fucking-ché.” I laugh. “All right, how about this, you help me practice right now and tomorrow night, I Noah Calhoun your ass so hard, you will be begging me to finger you pretty much anywhere we’re together.”
“Once again . . . so romantic.”
“Hey, it’s 2016, baby. Romance is all about dirty talk, secret rendezvous, and attentive fucking. Flowers, candies, and poems are old school.”
“You got me flowers the other day,” she points out.
I shrug. “Hell, I like to be vintage every once in a while. So what do you say? Video me for a little bit while I work on my approach and in return I will romance you so fucking hard tomorrow night.”
Smirking, she asks, “Will you buy me dessert?”
“Baby, I will buy you anything you want, as long as the beautiful pussy of yours is on the menu.”
“Can you not say pussy so loud?”
“Pussy,” I shout, drawing the attention of others.
Slapping my chest, she chastises me and laughs. “Hollis.”
I laugh out loud, holding the spot where she playfully swatted. “Honestly, Hot Sex, you should really know better by now. Big Daddy doesn’t listen very well. He’s a smart-ass at his finest . . . with a giant dong.”
Shaking her head, mirth in her eyes, she says, “Yeah, smart-ass cocky bastard.”
I wink. “Lethal combination for a randy woman like yourself.” Looking around, I say, “Want to suck my cock in the pit instead?”
“I’m leaving.”
Laughing out loud, I chase after her. “I was only kidding, you can suck my cock on the platform, last offer.”
“Noah Calhoun would be so disappointed in you.”
“Pretty sure he would high-five me. Bros stick together, baby.” Turning toward the mats, I say, “Now count off for me, I have twenty of each dive to complete.” With that, I get in position, take a deep breath and jump up into a tuck position and land on the mat. Turning to Melony, I’m instantly awarded by an awed, yet lustful look in her eyes.
Tomorrow I might pay for kicking Holly out of practice, but I’m sure as hell making up for it right now with Melony watching me. It was worth it.
Chapter Twenty
MELONY
Hollis: Be ready by six, Hot Sex.
Hollis: P.S. wear something slutty.
Hollis: P.S.S. don’t actually wear something slutty. I don’t feel like beating the shit out of people tonight.
Hollis: P.S.S.S. I missed you today. From now on, you must send me a picture of you at least sometime during the day so I can see your gorgeous face.
Hollis: P.S to infinity, take a selfie with me tonight? I want it as a screensaver on my phone. Can’t wait to kiss that perfect mouth of yours. XOXO
All right, so the man can text, I will give him that. With every text he sent, my smile grew. Is this what it feels like to be in a relationship with someone? Constantly smiling like an idiot at a piece of electronics? If so, we must all look like a bunch of lunatics.
I’m going to get Noah Calhouned tonight. I’ve never been romanced; I’ve never really been on a date before. Yeah, I’ve gone out to dinner with a few men, but I’ve never been picked up from my place for a date, or wooed before through text messages. And I’m sure Hollis will hold my hand the whole night because he can’t be a few inches from me without touching me somehow whether it be my lower back, or him guiding me by gripping the back of my neck. He’s not opposed to PDA; he actually thrives off it.
Something he also thrives off? Embarrassing me every chance he gets. It’s the smart-ass in him, and for some reason, I like it. He makes me laugh, puts ease in my heart, makes me feel secure about myself.
When was the last time I ever felt secure about myself?
Never . . .
Even though he seems so perfect, there is that stupid voice in the back of my head trying to insert doubt, trying to make me second-guess everything, but I push her back and tamp her down. It’s time I live in the moment.
My phone rings.
Hollis.
“Hey,” I say, putting him on speakerphone so I can finish curling my hair.
“Hey, baby. Just got out of practice. I’m sore as fuck, so I hope you plan on riding me tonight.”
“Who says I put out on the first date?”
He chuckles. “Believe me, Hot Sex, once Big Daddy is done with you tonight, you’ll be pulling my clothes off with your teeth.”
“So confident.”
“Confidence grows dicks.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Eh,” he chuckles, “made sense to me. I’m going to run home quick, take a shower, and then head over to your place. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, don’t be late. It will reflect poorly for you on after-date activities if you are.”
“I knew you were a hussy who put out on the first night.”
“Goodbye, Hollis.”
“Pretty sure that’s not my name, Hot Sex.”
I laugh to myself. “No way in hell I’m calling you Big Daddy.” Before he can answer, I hang up with an even bigger smile on my face now.
Honestly, I’m really excited about tonight. What does he have planned? Will he take me to dinner and that’s it? Or does he have something else special planned . . . besides his sexual fantasies.
And what kind of sexual fantasies does he have? Is riding him one of them? I think about the possibility, of me on top, my hips spread, taking him inside me, running the length of his cock against my clit in just the right position.
My body heats up from the possibility. Yeah, I could join in on that little fantasy. Hell, it’s not even a fantasy, it’s something I have to do now.
I can see his heady eyes now, barely able to look at me to peruse my body. I can feel his hands gripping my thighs, guiding me along his cock, his glorious cock.
Dude has cock.
That will forever be etched in my memory as the biggest truth I’ve ever been told . . . no pun intended.
For months Hollis has taunted and teased me with sexual proposition after sexual proposition, and if I’m honest, I’ve been left in a constant state of frustration. Yet, I’ve kept him at arm’s length. But now, now I get to experience him, and I have to admit I’m actually surprised just how good sex is with him. He worships my body. The way he touches me—electrifies me—is beyond what I expected, and I expected a lot. I had only wanted one night, but I'm amazed I get to have more. It's as if he was made only for me. And
of course, that makes me want him more. After I left Bellini’s house, barely squeaking away from day two of possible pimple appearance, I decided to pamper myself. I went to one of my favorite boutiques, found the perfect emerald-green form-fitting dress that hits mid-thigh with long sleeves and no back, bought a pair of gold stilettos, and had my nails done in matching gold tones. No need for lingerie since the back of the dress is non-existent and I don’t care for underwear most of the time.
Eyeing the dress hanging on the door behind me, I try to picture Hollis’s face when he sees me in it. Pretty sure he’ll love it, especially the plunging back and the way it shows the curve of my ass and outline of my breasts. Yup, it’s scandalous at best, but I don’t care. I want to look hot tonight.
Since we’re going out in the evening, I gave myself a brown smoky-eye with heavy-lidded liner, thick mascara, and just a few individual fake lashes in the corner of my eyes to brighten and widen my eyes. As for my hair, loose waves pieced out by styling wax. And to top it all off, a peach gloss to tie in the natural gold and brown tones I used.
Looking into the mirror, I fluff my hair, pleased with how everything came out.
Eep, I can’t wait for him to see me.
Putting on my dress takes finesse as I slip it over my head avoiding any makeup smearing or messing of the hair. I shimmy it down my body, that’s how tight it is. My mom would so not approve of this dress.
My mom.
Shit, I need to call her. I haven’t talked to her since Sunday, when I told her to talk to me once she’s done airing our dirty laundry. Guilt consumes me, acting like a wet blanket on the excitement I had for tonight.
I want to give my best to Hollis, he deserves it, so I swallow my pride and dial my mom while I finish putting my dress on. Her voice rings out over my speakerphone.
“Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mom,” I answer awkwardly. “Uh, how are you?”
“Better now that you called.” She’s always been good at getting right to the point.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I sigh and sit on the edge of my tub. “I was such an ass to you the other day. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment from me.”
“I don’t,” she says honestly, “but I understand where your passion was coming from.”
“Still not an excuse. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for apologizing.” She pauses and says, “Can I ask if anything good came from that day?”
I knew she was going to ask that. When I agreed to seeing Hollis, I told him I wanted to keep it between us, but my mom is different. She deserves to know. She’s earned that right, being that she raised me and provided for me on such low earnings. No matter what, she always made sure I had a decent childhood. The least I could do is tell her I’m seeing someone.
“Um, yeah. I’m kind of seeing Hollis.” Quickly, I say, “But we’re not telling anyone right now. I don’t want to make a big deal about it because this is new for me, and I think if I keep it simple, just him and me, I have a better chance at making something of it.”
“I can understand that. Thank you for telling me. I promise to keep it to myself and wait for you to inform me of what’s going on.” God, she knows me so well. “But can I say one thing?”
Ha, it wouldn’t be my mom unless she tried to get her two cents in. “Of course, Mom.”
“From the few spare moments I spent with Hollis, I could tell he was genuine, thoughtful, the real deal. He’s a good one, Mel, so don’t push him away because you get scared, okay? I think he’s the perfect match for you.”
“Funny, he seems to think the same thing.”
My mom chuckles. “I could see that in him. Confident, but not too cocky.”
Too cocky . . . if only she knew how much cock he really has.
“Be kind to him, sweetheart. He’s a good guy.”
“You’re not just saying this because he is an Olympic diver, are you?”
“No.” She grows serious. “I’ve seen my fair share of poor excuses for men. What I see in Hollis is different. He’s one of a kind, honey. The kind of man you don’t ever want to lose. Cherish his heart, you will want to use it for protection over yours.”
Annnnnd now I’m getting emotional.
“Okay, thanks, Mom.” Clearing my throat, I say, “I actually have to go, he’s taking me on a date and will be here any minute. But thank you . . . for everything.”
“Anytime, honey. Have fun tonight. Don’t think too much, just feel.”
I hang up the phone with my mom just as my doorbell rings.
Just feel . . .
I slip on my shoes, grab my clutch, and walk to my door.
Just feel.
I can do that. I just hope I fulfill what he’s looking for in a partner, that I’m enough for him.
Please let me be enough.
With a deep breath and a semi-firm bravado of leaping into the unknown, I open the door to find Hollis, one hand on the doorjamb of my apartment and the other in his pocket. His hair is perfectly messy, styled but in a way that seems like he just ran his hands through it a couple times. Encasing his powerful and strong legs are tight, fitted navy chinos, clinging desperately from his calves to his waistline—very Euro looking. He’s wearing a dark grey sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows showing off his impressive forearms and hanging loosely around his neck is a long necklace with a triangle at the end of it. Why does a simple accessory seem so hot? But that’s not what has my attention, igniting a flame deep within the pit of my stomach. It’s his eyes penetrating my guarded veneer, eating me up with hunger that has me quivering in my heels.
He gives me a once-over, his hand running over his chin in awe. It’s a simple move, one that doesn’t take thought to make—it’s just an immediate reaction—but it says everything a woman wants to know when she meets up with a man; he wants me.
“Shit, baby.” He steps forward and takes hold of my hand. He lifts it above my head and forces me to spin for him, his other hand lazily traveling over my body, appreciating my outfit. “This dress is sinful, Melony. Are you trying to kill me before we even step foot outside?”
“Just trying to keep you interested,” I tease, loving the way he wraps his arm around my waist and presses his arm palm against my exposed back.
“No need to do that, babe. My interest is sated where you’re concerned. Come here.” Desire. I can feel it from him as his hand runs up my bare back and cups my neck, pulling me in for a panty-melting kiss. “Mmm,” he moans, placing his forehead against mine. “I fucking missed you today, but it was worth the wait. You look beautiful, baby.”
His words cut deep, searing my heart with hope. I know I didn’t have to get all dolled up for him, but I wanted to because sometimes, a girl needs to dress up, put on some makeup, do her hair and wear a killer dress to throw her man into a tailspin of yearning.
Her man . . .
Is Hollis my man?
The way he’s eating me up right now, his hands wandering, exploring the ins and outs of my dress, his lips caressing my cheek, my jaw, my neck, I would put a safe bet down to say he’s mine.
Letting him kiss my neck just a little more, I say, “You look good yourself. I always see you in workout clothes, so I didn’t know you owned such stylish apparel.”
“You think I’m stylish?” he asks, his lips doing naughty things to my ear, his hands caressing my back. “Well, hell, I’ll always wear these clothes then, even when diving.”
“Not sure other women would appreciate the lack of Speedo,” I point out, his hand running over my ass and dangerously close to the hemline of my dress where his fingers play with it.
“Fuck other women, I only care about you.”
“If that’s the case,” his hand slips under my dress and starts traveling upward again—such a naughty, naughty man—“if I’m the one who gets to pick what you wear on the diving platform, then I pick a rainbow thong.”
Without hesitation he says, “Done,” just as his hands connect wi
th my bare ass. A groan rumbles up through his chest and into my ear where he’s playing with my lobe between his teeth. I wasn’t expecting foreplay in the entryway of my apartment, with my door still open, but I can’t seem to stop him. “Fuck, you’re not wearing underwear, are you?”
“Do I ever?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, allowing him better access. My hands are now holding onto the belt loops of his pants, trying to steady my balance.
His breathing his harsh; his fingers dig into my ass. Erotic electricity bounces between us, and I’m instantly wet from the feeling of his hard cock against me.
“Melony.” He heaves a tortured breath. He starts to move his hand to my front, searching out my clit, but I stop him by the wrist. His eyes shoot to mine, pain and pure torture clear in his expression. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not going to let me touch you?”
Mustering every ounce of courage I can find to not let this man take me back to my bedroom, I say, “Tonight is about you romancing me, remember?”
“Yeah, I do.” He looks dead serious, with a twinge of desperation. “Let me romance you with my tongue and then we can get on our way.”
“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head, clearly destroying all of Hollis’s hopes and dreams. “Noah Calhoun wouldn’t stick his tongue in a girl’s pussy the first second her saw her.”
“Noah Calhoun was also in his prime when The Beatles were born, so licking a lady’s pussy wasn’t a way of greeting.”
“Like it is now?” I ask sarcastically. “Pretty sure I don’t see men bending at the knee to greet a woman with one swipe at the clit.”
“Like I said, men are idiots.” His smile is impossible.
Stilling his hands, I say, “Come on, show me your moves outside the bedroom. Woo me, Hollis.”
Sighing in defeat, he steps away and adjusts his pants, clearly trying to tame his bulge. Quickly, he runs his hand through his thick faux hawk and then twists the front strands ever so slightly, messing them up. So. Hot.
His soulful eyes glance up at me as he holds out his hand. “You look gorgeous, Melony. Are you ready for our date?” The dark, sinister voice he was using while his fingers pressed into my ass is gone, and a more contemplative Hollis greets me now. And yet I don’t see disappointment in his eyes.