Page 45 of Hard to Judge

“Thank you,” Hota says when we wrap our last round of Trivial.

“For?” Arlo squares him with a look.

“Coming over when you didn’t have to. When I wouldn’t have blamed you for not trying.” He shrugs. “I walked out.”

Arlo nods. “I’ve never stopped trying. Even when it seemed like I had. I’ve never stopped, and I never will.”

Hota looks like he wants to say something, but it sticks in his throat.

I might know a way to get it out.

All three games stowed, I set the boxes outside our little world. I hike up onto my knees, splay my forearms onto the tabletop, and lean far over to the other side.

“Give me those fuckable lips, Kido.” I stare at them and lick my own.

He sighs a curse that curls straight to my pussy. Then his gaze slides to Arlo.

“Don’t look at him,” I bite. “He didn’t tell you what to do, I did.”

Hotaru’s gaze snaps to me. The heat in it is thermonuclear. I’m in sweats without a stitch of makeup on or my hair much more than brushed. The way he’s looking at me…

Fuck. My tits are heavy, and my pussy aches.

I feel like a goddamn pinup.

“You realize you’re the sub in this situation, don’t you, sunshine?” Still, he leans forward.

“Yes.” I lean closer, bringing my nose so close I slide the tip of it over his for good measure. “You realize you’re going to be a good boy and do as you’re told, right?”

He laughs. The joyous burst of air warms my lips, and he leans closer still. The plump edges of his lips drag over my arch, then across the pout of my mouth.

“Yeah, I do.” His hand brackets my throat, taking control.

His grip is tight, unforgiving, but it doesn’t hurt. I can breathe easily if I could breathe at all. My lungs are locked tight with anticipation.

I whimper against his unmoving mouth.

“But not until you beg.”

“Please, Hota,” I plead immediately. There’s no reservation in me. If I wasn’t already on my knees, I’d drop to them. If he told me to crawl? Hand and knees, here I come. “I need you to kiss me.”

“I don’t kiss, sunshine.” His gaze caresses my face. “Not ever.”

The truth hits me between the eyes. “You mean…”

“Yes,” he snarls. “I mean.”

He’s never kissed anyone. “Not even Arlo?”

His hand tightens on my neck, bumping the pressure in my brain. My pulse drums like it’s having to fight to get to my head and back to my heart. He drags his lips over my cheek and to my ear.

“Not even Arlo.” His teeth tug my lobe.

I wince at the exquisite pain.

“Why not?” I know asking this goes against my no past talk, but it’s his present too, and I have to know.

The huff of his breath dances along my neck. “When he couldn’t, I didn’t want to with anyone else. It’s intimate and not something I allowed.”

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