Page 7 of Hard to Judge

“It could be.” A glint in her eye speaks of a scheme she’s plotting and planning.

A part of me wants to know what’s going on in that mind of hers. The other, more pragmatic part wins out. “We should go see about the presents before there’s an orgy in your living room.”

“Not my living room. Arlo’s.” She slips her hand from my face, grabs my free one, and pulls me toward the grand staircase.

Does she not know that Arlo has already put this house in both their names? Does she not understand how much he loves her?

“Did you like your present earlier?” Her voice is that of a temptress, which tells me she’s not referring to the book under my arm but the kiss she orchestrated when I first arrived.

She dragged Arlo and me under the mistletoe she hung and pulled us in the most platonic and, consequently, hottest kiss of my life with her lips on half of mine and Arlo’s on the other.

“You call that a kiss?” I taunt.

“We’ll do better next time,” she promises, dragging me behind her and into the sitting room while I sport a massive boner.

Taunts on me.

“Finally.” Karris, the blond-headed brat of the group, lifts his half-filled glass toward us. “Let’s open presents.”

“You think a spoiled guy like you has any?” Hailey quips. “Coal and switches for you.” Shetsks.

“I’m not spoiled,” the spoiled millionaire and senator’s only son argues. “I could make use of a man named Cole and switches, though I prefer a top to a switch.”

“My heavens.” Karris’s date clutches his lapel as though he’s never heard light dirty talk. Like fat-free, synthetic, no-taste basic talk with a slight smudge.

Astor’s date laughs. It’s thick and husky and draws the attention of most people in the room, except Dobson, who doesn’t take his eyes off Karris, or Nat, who doesn’t take her lips off her boyfriend.

“I’m not picky. You should know this, Hay Bale,” Karris purrs.

He uses her childhood nickname in a singsongy voice. Hailey’s aunt removes her lips from her significantly younger boyfriend’s neck and keys in on the mockery.

“How would she know?” Natalia asks.

Astor catches her laugh in her hand. Her dark eyes go wide as they meet Hailey’s gaze, which rests just above her reddening cheeks.

Her friend knows at least some of what went down at Crave a few weeks ago when Arlo orchestrated a show for Hailey that started with Karris rubbing her off with the fabric of her panties and ended with Kar and Dobson coming on a woman between the two of them in front of her, while Arlo fucked her bare from behind…and I jerked off into my pants like a perv.

Hailey’s hand tightens on mine.

I’m about to make the situation worse by explaining to Nat that Karris is an exhibitionist, and I’m surprised he doesn't have a dick or a tit in his mouth right now when Arlo, the host and master puppeteer, enters the back of the room from a hidden set of stairs from the library.

“Karris, you’ll receive your present last if I believe your behavior has earned it.” He rolls down his sleeves and buttons the cuffs as he walks to the loveseat opposite Natalia and her date. His eyes are hard on Hailey and me. There’s so much in them. It’s impossible to decipher every detail at this distance.

It shoots a thrill akin to a rocket launcher through my chest.

“Who died and made you boss?” Karris’s Dollar-Store-Dobson sneers at the authority in Arlo’s presence.

Almost every other set of eyes in the room goes wide. Frenchie has his face buried in Nat’s neck and can’t be bothered.

“He literally is the boss.” Gertrude’s big blue eyes bloat. She slaps Dobson’s leg at the audacity.

“Like a mob boss?” DSD digs his cozy hole a little deeper.

Arlo sits at the head of everyone, looking every inch the kingpin.

Gertrude’s full lips explain. “He’s Arlo Judge of The Judge Conglomerate.” She’s in the business world, so she knows.

Nash, Astor’s date, knows too, only in a wholly different way. He pinches his smirk between his teeth.

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