Page 73 of Hard to Judge

“I’d rather show you who I am.” Hota’s deep voice rumbles. A hint of mischief behind the base.

“I’d love it.” Shelly’s cheery voice drops to sex-kitten mode.

I jerk my hand from his. I try, at least. He holds fast to our intertwined hands, then shoves them away from his body, tipping me forward. His other hand flies up and grabs my throat from the side. He tips me back into his lap, cradling me like a child.

I blink up at him.

“Tongue out,” he growls.

The only thing I can do is obey. Fuck, the only thing I want to do is obey. The moment I do, Hota spits. It lands hot and wet on my tongue.

“Let me see it,” he demands.

I moan and hold it there for him.

A hum of pleasure rattles his throat. “Swallow.”

I swallow with a stupid smile on my face. He kisses my forehead and rights me in the seat. “Any more questions?”

Shelly has gone mute and cherry red.

I bite my lips to hide my smile.

“We’ll take two of her usual.” Hota inclines his head toward me. “Anything else, sunshine?”

“No, thank you, Shelly,” I speak to her, but can’t tear my gaze away from the man next to me. He watches Shelly scamper away with a scowl that he quickly turns on me.

“What’d I do?” I squeak.

“The next time you doubt me, you’ll be taking my cock instead of my spit.” Despite the snap in his tone, his lips graze my knuckles. “I would never choose someone over you or Arlo.”

Guilt hugs me tight. I’m not used to this kind of devotion.

“Make it up to me?”

I nod.

“Answer honestly. Do you care that Arlo and I were together without you present?” His intensity is like staring directly at the sun.

“I care, but in good ways.”

His thick brow furrows. “Elaborate.”

“I want to know if you two were real and open with each other, or if you were still hiding.” His shoulders fall just a little. “I want to be sure you’re taking care of each other. I want to know all the dirty details for my pleasure.”

“No jealousy?” His gaze slides to where Shelly wandered off, then back to me.

“None where you and Arlo are concerned.” I open his hand and trace his lines. Where Shelly is concerned, there may be some misplaced jealousy. “You two have such history and love between you. I love it and want to see it flourish for you both.”

A different server runs by, leaving a basket of rolls as he passes.

“Your aversion to blood. Tell me about it.”

“After lunch?” I beg.

Hota slides my favorite bread within my reach. “Sure.”

I stare at the rolls for a second, then slide my gaze to him. “Do you even know what I usually order?”

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