Pucking Around: Chapter 29

What the heck am I doing? I’ve got my hand on Jake’s shoulder as he leads us to the stairs and I’m pulling Caleb along behind us. Am I seriously about to be the ham in a hockey player sandwich?

They both look so gorgeous tonight. Caleb may not play anymore, but damn is he still fit. Jake is like my angel in charcoal and white while Caleb is my devil rocking all black in a fitted polo and cuffed dress pants.

Jake turns the corner, grabbing my hand off his shoulder and pulling me forward into the dark stairwell. He doesn’t get four steps down before he’s turning. I hardly have time to catch myself before he’s cupping my face and kissing me senseless. Two steps separate us, so I’m practically level with his face. My hands go to his shoulders, and I hold tight as he spins me, coming up a step to press me against the wall.

I sigh into his fevered kisses, chasing him with abandon, as his hands slide up my jaw and into my hair. His hips press in, and then I feel him. All of him. His need, his hunger, the power he’s keeping in check. He wants to unleash himself on me. I’ve been teasing him all night. For weeks this has been building. This is Jake at the edge of his limit.

I break our kiss, sucking in air. The side of his face glows purple pink in the flashing lights from the dance floor below, reflecting along the line of his jaw. His lips are wet with my kisses.

His gaze darts to the right and I turn too. Caleb is there, mere inches away. He watched us kiss. His expression is impossible to read.

My body is buzzing like I’m drunk, but I’ve only had half a mojito. It’s them. Their strength, their presence. They consume me. Even when Caleb is being a grumpy asshole, I’m pulled to him. At the practice rink I’m always looking for him, waiting for him to give me his cool guy nod of acceptance. He’s flawless in his work—organized and efficient. You wouldn’t think there’d be a lot of grace in sharpening blades and handling broken sticks, but everything about Caleb is graceful.

I want to ruffle his feathers. I want to shake him up. I want to be his Hurricane. Grabbing him by the front of his polo, I pull him down a step. At the same time, I step up. He’s not going to make the first move. It has to be me. Whatever this energy is between us—between the three of us—I’m letting it sweep me under.

Our lips collide and his mouth opens on a soft groan. The music pulses as we stand in the dark, pouring our pent-up need into each other. His tatted arm goes around my waist as he cups my face, bending me back with the force of his eager kiss.

Jake’s kisses are like molten lava, melting me from the inside out. The passion I feel for him is white-hot and uncontrollable. Kissing Caleb is electric. My skin crackles with energy as he teases with his tongue, flicking and owning before he bites down on my bottom lip.

I gasp, pulling away, and raise a shaky hand to my lips, brushing over them as I glance from Caleb to Jake. They’re standing shoulder to shoulder, boxing me in, Jake two steps lower. Both men look like they’re going to eat me alive. If Jake is angry at me for kissing Caleb, he’s not letting on. In fact, all I sense from him is that he’s turned on.

Fuck it. I’m calling an audible. I fist the front of his white button-down, one hand holding onto each of them, claiming them. My angel and my devil. Let’s see how well they share. I pull him forward with a smile, my lips parting to meet his in another fierce kiss. Jake grabs me by the hair, fisting tight enough to make we wince. The sharp pain shoots straight to my core. I moan like a desperate creature, melting against him.

But then I give my devil a little tug. Is he willing to play? We haven’t talked about this. He can always walk away—

Boom.

Fireworks go off inside my chest as he presses in, flicking my hair off my shoulder, and sinking his mouth onto my neck. I arch into him, lifting up on my toes as they both crowd me. The heat of Caleb’s mouth on my pulse point zaps straight to my clit, and now I’m humming with need. I want this. I want them both.

I break my kiss with Jake. Digging my fingers into Caleb’s hair, I jerk him off me and bury my tongue in his mouth, my lips still wet from Jake’s kisses. He chases me, his hand slipping inside the back of my low-cut jumpsuit to palm my ass cheek.

“God,” I gasp, breaking for air. “Oh, god—”

“HEY!”

We all stiffen, heads twisting to look down the stairs.

“Up or down, lovebirds,” barks the bouncer. He’s standing at the bottom, guarding the velvet rope keeping the stairs private.

Oh god, it wouldn’t have taken much for someone to stand at that rope and look up. Then they would have seen us. At least it’s dark. But phone cameras have flashes. Jake is already in protector mode, moving down a step to block me from the bouncer’s view.

“Fuck,” Caleb mutters.

Jake grabs my hand. “Come on.”

He leads me down behind him, the fingers of my other hand entwined with Caleb’s. We slip past the bouncer and hit the dance floor. The bass of the music hammers through me, rattling my bones as the strobe lights go off. Blasts of pink, blue, and green blind me.

The boys box me in, sticking tight to my front and back, as Jake leads the way across the floor. His size means I can hide myself close at his back and move through the crowd, keeping my head down. If anyone snaps a picture now, they’ll just get the curtain of my dark hair.

Jake pulls us down a dark hallway that leads to the bathrooms. Several women mill along the wall, waiting to get inside. I turn my face away from them, stumbling in the dark in my heels. He grabs the handle of a door marked ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ and jerks it open, swinging the door inward to reveal a crowded storage room—stacked chairs, a shelf of cleaning supplies, cases of beer and liquor piled in tipsy towers to the ceiling.

“In,” he growls.

I’ve barely stepped in before I reach the shelf and turn around, just as he closes the door. The effect is instant, dulling the music to a muted roar rather than a full sensory assault. He leans against it, turning the lock with a click. Caleb stands between us, his dark eyes molten with hunger.

“What is this?” says Jake.

“I don’t know,” I admit, heart still racing from the thrill of being in their arms. God, these men just have to breathe in my general direction, and apparently that’s enough to make me forget everything. Our positions. Our signed contracts. My career aspirations. Their reputations.

Someone could have snapped a picture of Jake and I dancing earlier. Sure, we can shrug that off. Poppy will spin it easy. Two colleagues cutting loose, having fun, celebrating a win. But the three of us tongue-fucking in a stairwell?

“Rachel…what do you want to have happen here?” Jake presses. “Do you want me?”

His words cut through the swirling torrent of my thoughts. Every part of me softens at the look in his eyes. Oh, my sweet Mystery Boy, always doubting himself. “Jake, yes,” I say, crossing over to him. I cup his face, tipping up on my toes to kiss him once, twice. “I want you,” I murmur against his lips. “I want you. You know I do.”

He holds me by the elbows. “But you want him too…don’t you?” He doesn’t sound angry or hurt. He just needs to know.

Oh god, is this possible? Have they done this before? Jake didn’t strike me as the sharing type. Caleb is the wild card, always so difficult to read. He stands there in his all-black, those dark eyes burning like coals as he waits for me to decide his fate. What we have is new and certainly much different from my connection with Jake.

I turn in Jake’s arms, leveling my gaze at his best friend. This is the kind of moment where the best approach is the most direct. Heart in my throat, I part my lips and say those four little words. “Do you want me?”