21. Hailey
I’m jittery, like I’m headed to a first date. I’m not. This man has been inside me, for Christ’s sake, and still, I check my hair in the reflection of the car window. I adjust my coat, wondering if it’s too bulky and will send the wrong signal. A gust of icy wind reminds me it’s January in New York.
The moment I head for the building’s front door, I sigh with relief. Not because my jitters are gone but because I find Hotaru through the glass front. He’s standing in the lobby’s mirror, adjusting his tie. He fiddles with his long black hair that’s tied into a knot atop his head.
He looks like a superhero at his day job. Clark Kent, the Japanese version.
Hot!
I push through the door, and he turns with the catlike reflexes I’ve come to know. He rushes forward, grabs the door high above my head, and ushers me inside.
“I hate that you wouldn’t let me pick you up,” he snarls into my ear.
“And add an hour to your commute? No way.” I head for the restaurant he picked for our lunch. He follows.
The hostess is ready and waves us back. We weave our way through the tables to a booth in the rear. This is the perfect lunch spot, which is why I come here so often the hostess knows me. It’s not a hole-in-the-wall, but it’s not fancy either. It has a simple and elegant ambiance without being pretentious. And the food is fantastic.
Hotaru’s hands slip under the collar of my coat. His fingertips graze my collarbone and the nape of my neck. I don’t fight the electricity it shoots through my belly. “You’re worth it.” The heat of his rumble seeps into my neck.
I turn and let him see my flirty smile. “Thank you.”
He sets the coat on the seat next to his and slides in beside me. His whole body touches mine from shoulder to shoe. “Next time, I’m picking you up. End of.”
“Well, hello to you too, bossy britches.” I look down my nose at him, which is hard because he’s so tall.
He leans in, crowding me, and puts his mouth next to my ear. “You like it when I’m bossy.” His teeth prick my lobe.
My body pings as lust pinballs through me. I stifle a moan with my lips.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess chimes.
Honest to god, I’d forgotten she was there. “Thank you, Livy.”
“No problem, Dr. Fitzpatrick.” The young woman’s eyes light on Hota, not in interest per se, but in curiosity for sure. I’ve only been there with Nat and Astor.
“Hands and teeth where I can see ’em.” I pinch Hota’s rib. “You can’t get bossy with me here. People know who I am.”
His thick lips purse. “I should have picked a different spot for lunch.”
“Maybe you should’ve.” I bob one shoulder. “The lobster bisque will make up for it.”
“No chance.” Hota sizzles me with a look that could boil a pot of the stuff.
My pussy heats. I wave a hand over my face, though it’s not where I need the relief.
“Hot?” Hota purrs.
“Yes, you are, and you know it.” I narrow my gaze at him. “So stop trying to get me worked up in public.”
“Nope.” He brings the glass of water to his lips and sips. Something about his big hand on the weeping glass and his throat working has me strung tight.
“You wanted to meet me?” I prompt.
He smiles. “Yes.”
“Why?” I ask too loudly for the ambient noise. No one looks because this is New York, the land of mind-your-own-fucking-business. Thank goodness.
“Do I need to have a reason more than spending time with you?” He picks up my hand and follows the lines of my palm from one side to the other.
“Oh, you’re smooth.” My laugh is fun and light.
“I’m not. I want to ask you something.” His solemn gaze meets mine.
I expect he’ll ask me something about Arlo or our tentative throuple. “Ask me.”
His lips part and then close. He threads his fingers through mine and sets them in his lap, covering the top of my hand with his free one.
“Hey, Doc Fitz. How’s it going toda—” Shelly finally looks up from her pocket with her tablet in hand. Her natural beam flits to me for a second before her gaze swings to Hota. She was a cheerleader for an NFL team somewhere in the South for a few years. Her blond hair is long, and her smile is as big as they come. Somehow it doubles in size. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She asks Hotaru, completely forgetting me and the question she kind of asked about my day. I’m not accustomed to the sticky ick of jealousy, mostly because I never had anyone to call my own. I’ve only felt it with Arlo a couple of times. So this heavy, mucky feeling knocks me right off balance.
Shelly tucks her pouty bottom lip under her bright white teeth and sashays her hip from side to side, awaiting his answer.
“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?”
“Yes.” He drops my hand, grabs a roll, and pulls it apart. “Who do you think stalked you when Arlo was busy?”
My heart stutters. I gape at him.
I should be pissed that he and Arlo followed me around. They watched me when I didn’t know. They learned things about me that I didn’t share with them. It should make my skin crawl. Instead, it makes me warm and tingly in all the right, or wrong, places.
He chucks half of the roll into his mouth and then lifts a steaming bit to my lips.
“You two are going to be the death of me.” I snag a bite of bread.
Hota smiles and licks his full lips, confirming my statement.
We eat and chat about work and my aunt. I even tell him about my friendship with Astor. He shares more about his days at Willoughby Ridge. I can’t help but be grateful he and Arlo had each other.
He pays the check, and we leave. Instead of sliding into a car, we walk despite the cold. It’s not too windy, and the chill calms my nerves. After all, the subject upon me is the remnant of the worst day of my life. I need to face it head-on.
“Arlo didn’t tell you about my parents?” I shift my gaze up to Hota.
His warm hand grabs mine and tucks it into the crook of his arm. He protects it from the elements with his own. “He wouldn’t betray your confidence, not even to me.”
That tracks, and still my throat stings. I’m not used to such treatment. “He hasn’t answered any of my questions about you either.”
“He’s loyal one hundred percent,” Hota agrees, guiding us around a dog that’s bigger than its walker, and gives us a wary glare.
I don’t worry about the dog. Not with this man by my side. He’d probably fold the thing into a pretzel if it lunged.
“So are you,” I offer.
He finally turns away from the dog and meets my gaze. “Are you?”
It’s a fair question. He doesn’t know me, and I’m with the person he cares about most in the world. The implication stings, but I face it head-on. “There was a time I wasn’t even loyal to myself.” As he knows from a few stories I’ve shared. “Therapy and Arlo have changed that, and you.” I squeeze his arm. His really big and unyielding arm.
Focus, Hailey.
“You’re an astounding example of sticking through the hard times.”
“I know what it’s like to be abandoned.” The muscles flex around his jaw. “I could never do that to someone I love.”
“Your father disowned you.” I pull him closer to my side. Actually, I pull myself closer to his side because he’s huge and doesn’t budge. “For his sake, I hope we never meet.”
“Ferocious little sunshine.” His teeth snag his bottom lip.
“Small but mighty.” I grin at him.
“This I know.” He looks down at me with a heavy gaze.
I go for it. “What about your mother?”
“She did the best she could while dulling a multitude of demons with pharmaceuticals and alcohol. She was hurt very similarly to how Arlo was. Over time, they grew too loud until she ended the noise.”
My heart pinches. This man deserves only amazing things in his life, and he’s had to deal with absolute shit, time and again. “I’m sorry, Hota.”
He nods.
“Your parents’ actions have nothing to do with you. It’s their unmanaged trauma that led them down their paths. Not that either of them deserved their trauma. I’m fairly certain your father has some too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have forsaken an amazing person like you.”
“I’m an asshole, sunshine,” he says, kissing my temple and proving he’s most certainly not an asshole.
“You are perfect as you are.” I slip under his arm and wrap mine around his middle as we meander down the sidewalk.
“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 the thump , 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.”