Page 112 of Hard to Judge

The whole plane fills with laughter. My demons feel far away right now. I hurry into the room and shuck my suit as quickly as I can while Hailey shuts the door, and her bag vomits white, red, and blue all over the bed.

“I felt like I needed to make up for us missing the game last weekend.” She grimaces at the mound of Rangers paraphernalia. “It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

I grab her wrist and pull her to my bare chest. Her skin on mine soothes me in a way that is still foreign, even after all these weeks. It’s a high no amount of money or drugs can replace.

“It’s not too much, and there’s nothing to make up. Though I’m pretty sure you made up for this and about five years’ worth of things with Hota the other night.” I pull her face from my chest and stare into her stunning eyes. They’re home to me.

Her lips curve. “I did. Didn’t I?”

“Yes.” My cock goes hard remembering the way she rode Hota like he was her steed and she was one of the four horsemen. I kiss her cheeks. “You can’t control when a patient has an emergency. Next time, it might be a business emergency that ruins our plans. You won’t hold it against me.”

“No.” Her lips kiss the center of my chest. “I might pout, though.”

“You’re cute when you pout.” I smack her butt and groan when it jiggles. “Give me my costume before I pin you to the door, and Hota breaks it down trying to get in for the show.”

Her lip plumps, affirming my statement. “Fine, but it would be worth missing the game for that.” She grabs a jersey from the heap and turns on me. Her cheeks puff. “It’s not a costume. It’s team spirit.”

“My apologies.” I’m about to ask if there’s a shirt and pants to go under my costume when the door opens.

Hota steps into the doorway. “Sana sent me to make sure you two weren’t fucking.”

“A miscalculation on her part.” Hailey grabs his jersey, tugs him inside, and slams the door. “Now we’ll just take longer.”

She jumps into his arms, wraps her legs around his middle, and reaches back for me. I toss the jersey aside and pull them into my arms. Hota crashes his mouth to Hailey’s, while his hands grip my back and shoulder, holding me close.

Hailey is mashed between us. Her little mewls of delight fill the small room that has a bed and a narrow walking space at the foot with a closet big enough for a few suits.

This is heaven. I’ve had the same thought throughout the week spent crashing in Hota’s bed.

A firm knock sounds at the door. “Mr. Judge, we’re ready to fly. We must start our taxi in four minutes if we’re to get to our destination on time,” Sana reports. “And Hota?”

He clears his throat. “Yes?”

“You could’ve just told me it wouldn’t help to send you on this errand.” Sana huffs.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hota chuckles.

“Dressed and buckled in a seat, or we wait for the next window to leave, which is in four hours and after the event you plan to attend,” Sana says before stalking away.

“She’s not afraid of you,” Hailey says over her shoulder. “I like that.”

I squeeze her thigh with one hand and Hota’s ass with the other. “I don’t.”

Hailey wiggles down and grabs a pair of pants and a shirt from the pile. “Here, these should fit. They’re lover boy’s,” she says, hiking a thumb at Hota.

I grab them, bury my face in them, and inhale. “Great.” My groan rumbles through my chest. “They smell like you.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He hikes a brow.

“I’ll be hard all damn night.” I shove my feet in the leg holes and pull them up, struggling to fit them over my inflated cock. “See.”

“How is that different from any other night in recent memory?” He hikes a brow.

“It’s not.” I shove my arms through a long-sleeved T-shirt that smells like him too. “Oh fuck. Is it okay if I come in your pants?”

“Only if I’m wearing them.” He winks and heads out into the main cabin like a good boy, but he’s oh-so bad.

Hailey and I both moan.

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