Page 8 of Hard to Judge

My gaze, on the other hand, narrows. I let my smirk free.

This will be fun.

Hailey grabs the first of the packages, a petite bag with tissue paper, and I pull her toward Arlo.

“Not to be rude to you in your own home, but so what if you have a lot of money,” DSD huffs. “You can’t just order people around, especially when you’re not at work.”

Karris exhales so long and hard that I’d be surprised if it didn’t set some sort of world record.

“Hailey?” Arlo doesn’t bother to take his honed gaze off the newcomer-with-no-sense as he pats his left thigh.

Hailey looks at me, stifles a laugh, then releases my hand with a wink. She practically runs to Arlo and perches her ass on his lap. He smooths down the skirt of her red wrap dress. The face of her dragon peeks out the top, daring anyone to fuck with her, while a gargoyle peeks out the bottom along her thighs, taunting them to play. Or maybe it’s just taunting me.

Arlo points at his cheek. Happy as ever, she puckers up and lays one on him.

“Hota?”

I jerk as he says my name.

He widens the brace of his thighs, moving Hailey easily as he does. Then he pats his right thigh.

His siren’s eyes glimmer with mischief. Her smile is wide, and she urges me on with a tilt of her head.

I move as though I’m the genie and he is my master.

He is my master.

He just hasn’t quite figured out I’m his genie.

I sit on his broad thigh and level my gaze at Dollar-Store-Dobson while the real McCoy chuckles his rich chuckle on the sofa closest to me.

Arlo points at his cheek.

My gaze slices to Hailey, whose grin is Cheshire-ish, and then back to Arlo. I lean forward and press my lips to his face in front of everyone. I can’t decide whether that adds or detracts from its meaning.

Regardless, my skin caresses Arlo’s perfect heat for the barest of seconds, and I revel in the experience. I breathe him into my lungs and store the scent and this moment in my heart.

“You’ve got to be joking.” DSD crosses his arms over his chest, displaying his floral suit.

“Siren, who is this first package for?” Arlo wraps his arm around my back and settles me into his grip. While I look around the room for the ghost of Christmas-what-could-have-been.

“It’s for Nat.” She laughs.

“Karris, be a dear and?—”

“You can’t order people around.” DSD interrupts Arlo.

Even Astor’s head shakes at that one.

“For taking dick up the ass regularly, you are awfully fussy,” Laurent says with his heavy French accent and without breaking his contact from Nat’s skin.

“I don’t take dick.” DSD ruffles. “I give it.”

“If you are a top, then I am Degas.” The Frenchman laughs, finally coming up for air.

“And I’m Picasso.” Nash, Astor’s date, agrees with a chuckle.

Arlo uses one finger to coax Karris from the sofa.

---