Page 104 of Hard to Judge

“What does that mean?” I grin.

“You have a way of exorcising demons.”

That smile falters. I wish I could exorcise the last of his, but I can’t. Instead, I do what I can. I move closer, keeping Plink as far away from Hota as possible and stretch up onto my toes. “Kiss me.”

He cradles my face with one hand and presses his lips to mine. One. Two. Three. Chaste kisses warm my mouth before he straightens. His gaze flits cautiously to Plink and back to me a few times. “Can I touch him?”

“Judging by the way he was cornering you, I’d say yes, he’d love for you to pet him.” I scruff the darker, almost black fur under his chin and around under his ears. “Anywhere in here is good. He loves a butt scratch, yet always puts his teeth on the hand that’s doing the scratching. It never hurts, but you might want to avoid it for now.”

“Kinky cat.” Hota’s dark eyes sparkle. He shoves his phone in his pocket.

“Like his mommy.” My voice is suddenly raspier than normal.

Hota steps impossibly close, pressing his belly against the top of mine and brushing my nipples. “I want to fill you up.”

Just like that, I’m burning, yearning, ready for anything. And I’m afraid I do meananything. “I want you to fill me up.”

Plink expels the loudest, most offended meow I’ve ever heard him roar.

Hota leaps back.

My laugh is full and immediate. It fills my belly and overflows my mouth. “For being my panther, you sure are afraid of a little pussy.”

He stalks forward, scoops Plink to his chest, grabs me with his other hand, and devours my lips. In less than three seconds,I’m moaning into his mouth, begging him to fuck me. Not that he can discern my words muffled against his tongue.

“I want to come home to this every night.” Arlo’s voice startles me. I hadn’t heard him come in, but Hota seems none too concerned about the sudden presence. His grip on me tightens, and his kiss deepens even more.

I swear I can feel him hit my tonsils, and I’m not mad about it. Plink, on the other hand, lets out an obnoxious sound.

Hota groans and pulls back. His full lips are wet and red, and his expression is feral.

Should make for an interesting flight. If the plane’s a rockin’, it’s not turbulence.

Plink skitters down from Hota’s arms and runs for Arlo, who swoops him into a big hug and nuzzle.

“Pussies love him,” Hota grumbles.

“I know a dick pretty fond of me too.” Arlo flashes Hota a smirk.

Before they can start, I jump up and down, shouting, “I got us jerseys for the game!”

Both my men indulge me with smiles, though I’m sure they’d rather wear their regular clothes.

“I want to wear the hottest player’s number,” Hota decrees.

“You can’t.” Arlo sets down Plink, who shoots out of the room like a bullet. “I won’t be on the ice.”

I laugh so hard I snort, which draws a guffaw from Hota. We’re both losing our shit when my feet leave the floor, and I’m hoisted bridal style into Arlo’s arms.

“I’ll have you know I played hockey and was excellent at it.” He grins, and we both pause our laughter. “Best on my rec league,” he continues.

“How old were you?” I eye him.

“Six? Maybe seven.” He blows me a kiss.

I lean up, wrap my arms around his neck, and plaster my lips to his in a quick kiss. “I bet you were the cutest on the team, but best is pushing it. Remember we saw you skate not too long ago.”

“I’m out of practice.” He inhales to continue when my bat-phone, as we call it, rings at top volume.

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