Page 85 of Look, Don't Touch

“Anytime you need to hear your favorite sound, you call me. I’ll have sweeter or more sinful things to say.”

“Goodbye, Arlo.”

“Goodbye, Hailey.”

We hang up, and I feel like that exchange was so one-sided it twists my guts. I open the text app and type.

A Griffin symbolizes strength and courage. Mine was a reminder that I could do anything on my own.

The bubbles dance.

You can. You have.

This man knows how to fuck, and he knows what I need to hear. Suddenly, I want him to know he means something to me.

It might be nice, not to do everything alone.

More bubbles.

That will take courage too.

I place my hand over my griffin.

Yes, it will.

When we step onto the plane, I can smell Arlo. His clean body, a hint of pricey cologne, leather, and wool. He permeates the air, and my nipples pucker. My heart revs, and my eyes dart left and right in search of my…

What is he to me?

My passion. My obsession. My personal fetish.

I’m met, not with Arlo, but with a gorgeous woman whose blue eyes match the fitted blazer and trousers she sports. While the ascot around her neck almost duplicates the color of her white-blond hair.

“Good morning, and welcome aboard.” Her head bows slightly. “You must be the famous Natalia Wright and the infamous Dr. Fitzpatrick” She places a hand on her chest. The other she motions me toward a large leather seat. “My name is Sigrid.”

“Infamous?” My brow crinkles.

“Downright loathsome, from what I hear,” a new huskier female voice chimes as she exits the cockpit. Her uniform matches Sigrid’s, apart from the cream Hijab covering her head and neck. The beaming smile on her brown face belies her words. “I’m Sana, and you are the woman who stole the untouchable heart and crushed the hearts of all pining for him.”

My crinkled brow shoots toward the sky, and my jaw goes in the opposite direction. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t stolen anything.”

“Besides a few handbags,” Nat chimes from her perch on the cushy leather seat.

I wave her off, shocked this is the first I’ve heard about her missing handbag. Okay, handbags, with an s.

“It’s not stealing if it was given.” Sigrid reaches for a large white box, designed with polka dots with white mesh covering them, and offers it to me. His scent is strongest here. It fills my nose, and I have to suppress the urge to close my eyes and moan. “Mr. Judge dropped this off, personally, shortly before you arrived.”

I hug the weighty package to me and sit on the seat across from Nat. We exchange looks at the box while Sana closes the cabin door. When she’s finished, both women stand there expectantly. Even Nat scoots to the edge of her seat. For a moment, I wonder whether it’s something appropriate for the masses. I don’t mind either way. It would take something really freaky to make me blush.

A small noise seeps from the polka dots. The weight inside shifts.

“Oh my God.” I rip the lid from the box and peer inside. Lopsided and tattered ears wave at me. “Plink!” My cat gives a tiny meow, like, ‘duh, who else?’

“Plinko?” Nat is up in an instant, making grabby hands for the grump.

I hug his neck and kiss his head before I hand him over. He smells like Arlo, as though he rubbed himself all over the man from top to bottom. Just like I long to. My cheeks are hot and surely bright pink. The stretch of my mouth is so wide it hurts. Arlo Judge knows how to get to me.

The women ooh and aah over Plink, and he seems to revel in their attention, preening more than I ever thought possible. I reach for the envelope inside addressed to my siren in the same bold handwriting and ink as before. My fingers shake as I open the card inside and begin to read.

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