Stroked Hard

  Feeling bad that I squashed his dreams, I lean into him, pressing my breasts against his chest and speak into his ear while gripping his scruffy jaw. “If you do a good job wooing me, I might just let you finish what you had planned.”

  His face morphs, his eyes burning into me. “Challenge accepted.”

  Oh hell, I’m way in over my head. From the look of determination in his eyes, I know the last brick of the wall I resurrected over my heart is going to fall. Hollis is about to destroy every preconceived notion I have had of men.

  And honestly, I want him to. I so desperately want him to.

  ***

  Fun fact: don’t ever challenge Hollis Knightly. He will win.

  I’ve learned that over the course of getting to understand this man. When you lay down a bet, you’re going to lose.

  That’s why I’m on the verge of turning into an exhibitionist and putting on a show for all voyeurs to watch.

  The night didn’t start out innocent by way of ass grabbing in the apartment hallway, but it fizzled into a regular date when we got into Hollis’s Prius. Well, I shouldn’t really say regular date. By no means has Hollis taken me on a regular date. When he said he was going to romance me, he wasn’t kidding.

  In the car, we talked about the Olympics and his competition. It’s a known fact that Hollis is a cocky bastard—he doesn’t hide that—but when he spoke of his upcoming competition—that’s how he referred to it, although it seems a little bigger than just a competition—he was confident in his abilities to take home another gold. He wasn’t overtly cocky, or waving his gold medals around saying he was the best in the world. He spoke with assurance of his abilities and the training he’s put in. It was downright sexy hearing him speak of his sport.

  At dinner, he pulled out my chair for me. I didn’t expect anything less on that end, but what I didn’t expect was for him to move his chair closer to mine so he could hold my thigh the entire time. Not my hand, but my thigh. His thumb gingerly stroked my skin as he spoke. It came so naturally to him, that the movement was flawless but consuming on my end. There were many times I couldn’t even concentrate on what he was saying because his thumb was distracting.

  Conversation was easy. Dinner was exquisite, especially when he chose to feed me parts of his, wanting to share in the flavors. It was romantic with the view of the ocean, the candlelit atmosphere, and the sexy-as-hell man sitting next to me, giving me his undivided attention, eating up every word I spoke, never once looking at his phone that remained in his pocket. HE was engrossed in everything about me.

  That to me is romance. You can make grand gestures of presents and promises all you want, but it won’t affect me. What cut through the icy chill of my heart was his attentiveness, his intrigue, the way he watched my lips while I spoke, and the way he engaged in conversation, asking me questions, really paying attention to everything I had to say. In a digital world where connections to the outside world sit at our fingertips, to have someone so solely focused on everything you have to say—that to me is sexy, romantic, awe-inspiring. And completely Hollis.

  With his undivided attention, he was showing me how much of a different man he truly is, blessing me with him, and only him.

  After dinner, he linked our hands together and guided me to the ocean, where we are currently sitting on the beach, watching the waves roll in one by one, indulging in the tiramisu we got to go. My back to his chest, his arms wrapped around me, his hot breath in my ear, chuckling and teasing me while he takes turns feeding both of us with the one fork the restaurant gave us. It’s intimate, different . . . utterly fantastic.

  I never knew this is what a relationship could be like. It seems so effortless, uncomplicated, like we were meant to be together.

  I would love to say it’s freaking me out, that I’m scared out of my mind, but for once in my life, I can say I’m not. I feel so incredibly full, so enriched by the company of another soul, it’s addicting.

  I don’t feel lonely.

  How I’ve been wrong for so long, it kills me to know that I’ve been missing out on companionship. But even then, I know I wouldn’t feel this way with another man. I know these feelings are because of Hollis and the way he treats me. It’s his personality, his charisma, the way he touches me gingerly, with loving affection, and the way he looks at me, as if I’m the only woman that would ever make him happy. How could I not become addicted to such attention?

  It’s impossible.

  A little piece of me is scared, and I don’t know how to handle this feeling overtaking my body, that he will one day . . . leave.

  It’s the reason why I’m staying reserved, why I’m keeping this relationship between us, why I want to still tread cautiously. Because what if one day he sits back and realizes my flaws—my scars—are too deep for him to reach? To heal. What if we have a disagreement about something neither of us can find a common ground? Will it drive us apart? Will he take that opportunity to leave?

  Will he ever leave?

  “You went quiet on me.” His deep voice speaks closely to my ear. “What’s churning in that beautiful mind of yours?”

  “Nothing really,” I answer, not wanting to get into my worries. “Do you ever feel like you only truly see the stars when you’re out by the ocean?”

  “They’re non-existent in the city,” he agrees. “Which makes it that much more special to come out to the beach at night.” He kisses the side of my head and sets down our finished desserts. “Did you have a good time, baby? I know there wasn’t a lot of fanfare, but I wanted to keep things simple.”

  I lean into him and wrap his arms over my chest so he’s hugging me tightly, my head resting on his shoulder. “I’ve had an incredible time, Hollis. I don’t need fanfare, I just need you.”

  That garners me another kiss. His entire body is wrapped around me, and it’s so damn comforting. I never want to get up.

  “Can I talk to you about something that’s been weighing heavily on my mind?” His voice grows serious. It’s a tone a rarely heard unless he truly wants to convey something to me so I perk up, wondering what he wants to talk about.

  “Of course.”

  One of his hands lazily runs along the skin on my forearm as he speaks. “I leave for Rio in a day. We go to Georgia first and then to Brazil. I know you’re going to attend the games but that gives us a couple weeks apart.”

  “Okay,” I say, wondering where he’s going with this.

  He sighs and leans his head closer, speaking directly into my ear, nervousness in his voice. “I’ve worked so hard at getting to this point with you, Melony. I’m worried we’ll revert back to where we were when you were barely speaking to me.” He kisses my temple and continues, “I don’t want to lose what we have because of distance. I don’t,” he pauses, trying to gather his words, “I don’t want you to think I left you.”

  “Hollis,” I say incredulously, “I know you have to go to training. I’m not stupid to think you’ve left me.”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid, baby. I just get fucking nervous as hell that the next time I see you, you’re going to act like we’re strangers, like I’m a thing of the past. I have no clue how to make that not happen. I would love to say I know how you tick, but I’m still learning everything about you, especially in that sealed vault of a mind you have. I need your help. Help me figure out how to keep this feeling between us while I’m gone.”

  The anxiety rolling off him in waves saddens me. The beautiful, caring man. I don’t blame him though, as he’s right. I’m a flight case at best. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I was the strong, confident woman everyone wants to see, but I’m damaged, permanently scarred by a man I should have been able to trust with my life. That leaves a mark, no matter how much I try to deny it. Unfortunately, the mark he left behind has affected me well into my twenties. I’m still affected, but I do want to try.

  I don’t know what to say to Hollis. This is the first time I’ve ever been in a relationship, and I don’t know wha
t works. I have no clue how I’ll feel when he’s gone. Will I miss him? Will I be lost without him? Will I be one of the girls who’s become dependent upon her man?

  No, I don’t believe I will be. I’ve been independent up until this point. If anything, I would resume my regular life . . . and . . . oh. That’s what probably terrifies Hollis.

  I lean down and kiss his hand. “I wish there was some kind of magical equation I could hand you to keep me at bay but I honestly don’t have any clue how to direct you. You’re my first true relationship, Hollis. I really have no idea how any of this works. I mean . . . are we in a relationship?”

  Possessiveness takes over him as he squeezes me tighter. “Fuck yes, we’re in a relationship. I thought that was clear. Have I not shown you my intentions? Melony, you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. Ever.” Ever? He swallows hard, a little malice to his voice. “I sure as hell hope the feeling is mutual.”

  Does he think I’ve been fooling around with others? As if that was even a possibility. No one even comes close to resembling Hollis. It’s not just his build and finely cut body, but his charismatic attitude. He engulfs me, practically drowns me. There is no way I could even think about anyone else.

  I turn my head and look him in the eyes. “Hollis, the feeling is more than mutual. I just, I’ve never done this before so you have to guide me step by step.”

  His body relaxes and sinks into mine once again. “You’re my girl, Melony, and I want to keep it that way. This is new between us, and it’s scary to you, I get that. But to keep it going, we are going to have to put forth an effort while we’re apart. Let there be physical miles between our bodies but not between our hearts.”

  Our hearts. Those words resonate deeply with me. I’ve never given my heart over to another human before. Thinking back over the last few days, I can honestly say, it is scary. I’ve been slowly handing him over broken piece by broken piece, looking for him to put it all back together.

  Will he finally be able to mend it?

  The thing is, I want to wait around to see.

  “Then let’s work on it. What will it take? Calls, texts, video chats?”

  His nose runs along my ears, sending chills down my arm. “I’m pretty sure the prescription for long-distance relationships is lots and lots of phone sex. I mean, we’re talking about getting seriously raw from diddling so much. Check your fingers, are they pruned? No, then more phone sex. Plus I will need a mold of your breast so I can stick it in my mouth whenever I want.” And he’s back to sarcastic Hollis, which makes me smile. Funny how I missed him.

  “Why do I feel like you’re not going to let up on the mold?” I ask teasingly.

  “Because you know my addiction to your tits. You have to feed it baby, be an enabler. It’s for America.”

  “How is a mold of my boob for America?”

  He bites down on my ear lobe, a moan slips out of me as I tilt my head to the side, loving the way his lips feel on me.

  “Because, a mold of your boob will help ease the pressure I’m carrying from having to claim another gold medal. America is counting on your tit.”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “Well, America is going to have to think of another way to be supportive. There will be no molding of my breasts.”

  He shakes his head behind me and huffs, “And here I thought you were patriotic.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  HOLLIS

  “I feel great, Holls.”

  “Not tight or anything? You’ve been stretching like I told you? Drinking water, staying away from sweets?”

  “Water and stretching for sure.”

  “Hollis,” she groans. “You need to stay in prime shape.”

  “I am.” I flex my muscles for Holly. In all honesty, I feel better and more prepared than I ever have for the Olympic games. I know Holly has really stepped up my training, which has prepared me to be in the best shape of my life, but I also believe it has a lot to do with Melony. She makes me happy and when I’m happy, I can do anything.

  “Eating ice cream isn’t staying in prime shape, Hollis.”

  “Ice cream is dairy and according to the food pyramid—”

  “Cut the shit.” She laughs. “The food pyramid is a joke for the elite athlete. No more ice cream.”

  I tap my finger to my chin in thought. “What about ice cream in the form of a cone rather than a cup. I have to lick it, makes me work harder.”

  “No ice cream.”

  “What about licking it off a body, like . . . hmm, Melony’s.”

  “Ew.” Holly cringes. “No ice cream! God, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk about sex things with me? You’re my twin brother, have you forgotten that?”

  I shrug. “We share everything.”

  “No, we don’t.” She shivers. “We are done with this conversation.” Moving on she asks, “Have you talked to Mom and Dad?”

  “Not really. Are they all packed?”

  “Mom got a two-piece.”

  “What?” The feeling of my eyes popping out of my head is real. “What do you mean she got a two-piece. Like, shorts and a full bathing suit?”

  “No, like a bikini bottom and a bikini top. And to top it off . . . she got Dad a banana hammock.”

  “You’re a fucking liar.”

  Laughing, she shakes her head as we make it to my car. As I help her get in she says, “I wish I was. She sent me a picture. Dad’s suit literally has a banana on the crotch . . . lying in a hammock. She said they wanted to experience Brazil the right way.”

  “By horrifying people?” I ask. I fold up her chair and put it in my trunk before getting in the driver’s side.

  “Mom asked if I wanted to get a matching suit. I told her I would rather hang out with the trash pandas lounging on their property, picking through last night’s leftovers.”

  “That’s a little rough, but understandable. No one wants to wear matching swimsuits with their mom.”

  “Not even a little. Hey, did you catch Rollin’ in the Bacon?”

  Christ, my sister and her stupid obsession with this show. “No, when are you going to realize I don’t watch it? You have so much more class than to sit down and watch that shit, sis.”

  “I can’t look away. It’s a train wreck. They are only reruns, but I still watch them. Will you watch it when Reese is on?”

  Hmm, I never thought about it. A part of me would rather spend the night walking up and down the diving platform stairs than listen to Bellini-the-twit drone on and on about her woes, but another part of me wants to watch just to be able to make fun of Reese. I would bet my left nut there is some incriminating material of him for me to capitalize on. Still, I would have to sit through Bellini to get through it.

  “Probably not. Bellini is too much for me.”

  “She’s not for everyone.” Isn’t that the fucking truth? “Speaking of Bellini, am I ever going to meet this Melony girl you ditched me for?”

  “Yeah about that.” I cringe. More than anything I want Melony to meet Holly. I think they would really get along. Plus Holly is my fucking world and I want my two worlds to collide, but not in an explosive, destructive kind of way. “Not sure when that will happen.”

  Looking out the window, I can see Holly nod her head from the corner of my eye. She’s silent for a passing moment before saying, “Are you ashamed of me?” What the fuck?

  I nearly drive off the road. “What? Are you insane? Why the hell would I be ashamed of you?”

  “Before the accident, you would have introduced me to your girlfriends, but now I’m in a wheelchair—”

  “Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence,” I say firmly. “It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”

  “How so? You don’t even talk to me about your girlfriends anymore. Before I became your coach, you barely talked to me about diving. So what the hell is it, Hollis? Do you feel sorry for me? Is that it? And you don’t want other people to feel sorry for me as well? Becau
se that’s not how I’m living my life, looking for pity from others.”

  “I never said that.” I feel panic creep over me. This is not a conversation I want to have with Holly right before I leave for training camp.

  Are you ashamed of me?

  Fuck, I’m ashamed of myself. I was the one driving, the one who foolishly looked at his phone, the one who ran into a tree, the one who ended my sister’s career.

  I’m. So. Fucking. Ashamed.

  “Then what is it, Hollis?”

  The drive to her place is faster than expected, and I’m pulling into her parking lot when she turns to me looking for answers. Knowing she won’t even consider getting out of my car without an explanation, I capitulate.

  I lean back in my chair and run my hands over my face. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.

  “I’m not ashamed of you, Holly. Shit, I’m so damn proud of you and the way you’ve risen from the fall I caused for you. I’m . . . ashamed of myself. I feel so guilty for the loss I’ve caused you, it’s tearing me up inside. It’s not that I don’t want Melony to meet you, it’s that I don’t want her to know the kind of monster I am.”

  A gentle touch grips my forearm, pulling my hand away from yanking on my hair. Holly nudges me to look at her. Like a dickhead, I have tears in my eyes. So much regret sits on my shoulders, weighs heavily on my chest, it’s fucking crippling at times.

  “You’re not a monster, Hollis. You made a mistake.”

  “That wasn’t a mistake. You don’t call destroying someone’s life a mistake.”

  “Is that what you think you did?” She forces me to look at her, and her crystal-blue eyes meet mine. “You think you destroyed my life?”

  I swallow hard, tamping down the raw agony I feel. “Of course I do. I took away your diving career, your passion, everything you ever worked for.”