Page 75 of Hard to Judge

“Debatable.” He squeezes me. “Your turn.”

I nod. “A man my mother was cheating on my father with stabbed my parents to death. I came home from school, with the horror of my first period staining my pants, to find blood everywhere and their bodies littering the hallway.”

My throat goes tight, and my arms tingle. The panic doesn’t come, though. “The man ran at me with the knife.”

Hota’s hold on me tightens. He maneuvers us off the sidewalk and down a small side street and through a gate. Shrubs and trees fill the small plot crammed between two buildings. I can hear the city, but I don’t see it. Not much anyway.

He pulls me over to a bench, sits, and then pulls me down next to him. His eyes are intent. His lips are pressed into a line. “Continue.”

“We kept a shotgun behind the door.” I shrug. “I guess my mom was taken by surprise, and my dad was too far away to get to it. I wasn’t. When I shot him, his blood went all over me.” A shudder seizes me.

I still feel the mist of it on my face, coating my neck and bathing my hands.

The gentle stroke across my brow makes me realize I’d closed my eyes. I pull them open while Hota’s thumbs trace the line of my cheek.

“At the gala, you saw what happens when I see blood.” My teeth grind. “I lose control, and I hate it. I hate the power that day has over me.”

“Do you trust me, Hailey?”

“Yes.” I don’t even have to think of my response.

“I can help you with your aversion if you want.”

I stare at him, not really understanding what he’s saying. My mouth opens several times, but nothing comes out.

“Do you know about bloodplay?”

My stomach drops into my ass, my hands shake, and a sheen of sweat erupts on my upper lip.

Hota’s thumbs trace my mouth gently, and then he smooths one over my sweat stash. His tongue lolls out, and he licks the pad of his thumb. As abruptly as my freak-out started, it’s overruled by heat, tugging at my most intimate parts.

“From your reaction, I’ll guess you know exactly what it is.”

I wish he’d stop talking about it and lick something else. Like me.

“From your reaction, I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.”

“And you’d be right.” I nudge my shoulder into his lightly to break the tension rising between us.

Hota steeples his fingers in his lap, almost like he’s praying. I know he’s not because the corners of his lips lift in the most devious smile I’ve ever seen. His chin slants in my direction after a moment. The darkness and hunger in his eyes are enough to make me stagger back or slide off my seat because my panties are suddenly soaked.

“Give me tonight, and I’ll have you begging to fuck me bathed in our blood.”

My heart beats in my throat and my cunt simultaneously. I can't speak for thethump,thump,thump.

He leans in close, his lips brushing my earlobe. “Crave. Tonight. Nine.”

“What’s at nine at Crave?” I whisper.

His fingers tangle with mine. He studies them for a moment, then meets my gaze. “You, if you trust me.”

“Miss Calkins, lovely to see you again. Right this way.” The concierge for Crave’s private members turns and heads down a sleek hallway and past several playrooms off the rear entrance.

My fucking knees wobble, and I nearly snap a heel on the textured concrete floor. The faint rhythm of music pipes through the corridor. It’s seductive and soothing. Nothing like the erratic beat of my heart.

I haven’t had nerves like this since Arlo brought me here to meet his friends. Perhaps I wasn’t as worked up then. Arlo was with me, his hand in mine, escorting me. A part of me wishes Hotaru had done the same, but they are not the same people.

Arlo gets off on my pleasure. Hota on my pain and fear.

---