3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Holly
I 'm standing in the middle of the Blue Line bar, my heart hammering like it wants to burst through my ribcage. Jaxon's dark eyes bore into mine, filled with heat and promise. Cameron’s soft smile tells me he doesn't doubt what my answer will be. And Deacon, oh God, Deacon is already prowling toward me like a lion who knows the kill is inevitable.
"Let me get this straight," I say, my voice surprisingly steady. "All three of you. One night. With me?"
Jaxon nods, the corner of his mouth ticking up. "That's the deal, Hol. We share more than just the ice." He winks.
My cheeks flame hot. This isn’t me. I'm Holly Hawthorne, the girl from a Podunk town where everyone says please and thank you and no one would dream of such a...scandalous arrangement.
But…
"Look, I’m not usually into casual sex," I admit, fiddling with the hem of my sweater. "One-night stands? They've happened, but they never rocked my world."
Cameron leans against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "We're offering earthquakes, Holly."
"Life-altering," Deacon adds, his voice low and husky.
I can feel their eyes on me, stripping me down to nothing but raw desire and curiosity. It's overwhelming, intoxicating. One part of me screams to run for the hills, to cling to the good girl image I've always had. But another part—a new, daring part—whispers seductively that I might just regret saying no more than I'd regret saying yes.
"Earthquakes, huh?" I say, trying to sound light-hearted even though my stomach is doing backflips.
"Multiple. Guaranteed," Jaxon says, stepping closer.
And suddenly, I realize that this isn't just about sex. It's about breaking free, shattering the mold I've been poured into all my life. These men—these incredibly sexy hockey players—are offering me a chance to redefine myself. To discover who Holly Hawthorne really is when she steps off the beaten path.
And I can’t pretend like I don’t want them. Desperately. Because I do. I haven’t stopped thinking about them since I met them. And, despite the mortifying start to our relationship, they seem to want me right back.
"Okay." The word slips out, quiet but certain. "One night."
Their grins are predatory but not frightening. There's excitement there, and something that feels a lot like victory. For them or for me, I'm not sure yet.
"On one condition," I add quickly. "This stays a secret. My brother can never know. The team can never know."
"Cross our hearts," Deacon promises, drawing an X over his chest.
"Hope to die," Cameron chimes in, dead serious despite the playful glint in his eyes.
"Stick a hockey stick in my eye," Jaxon finishes, and we all crack up.
The tension breaks, but the anticipation in the room builds into something tangible. I'm about to step into uncharted territory. I should be scared, but I'm mostly feeling exhilarated. Maybe this will change everything. Maybe it'll change nothing at all.
But one thing's for certain—tonight, Holly Hawthorne is playing a whole new game.
Cameron takes my hand, and I can’t help but think that no matter how this ends, it’s going to be one hell of a ride. And for one reckless, exhilarating night, we're willing to risk the fall.
Heat crawls up my neck, flushing my cheeks as Jaxon's car eats up the distance to our apartment building. I'm sandwiched in the back, Deacon's presence like a live wire beside me. The city lights blur past us. His touch makes me feel like my skin is on fire, and the chilly night air does little to soothe the ache tingling through my nerve endings.
"God, Holly," Deacon murmurs loud enough for the boys up front to hear. His fingers dance over my skin, bold and unapologetic.
My breath hitches, caught between embarrassment and raw need. In the rearview mirror, Jaxon's eyes meet mine. They're dark and heavy with promise. Cameron gives nothing away, but his jaw is tight, hands gripping the steering wheel like he's holding onto control by a thread.
Deacon's lips trace a path from my jawline to the sensitive area behind my ear. He presses a gentle kiss there, his stubble tickling my skin and sending shivers down my spine. I bite my lip to suppress the moan that threatens to escape, not wanting to give away how much his touch affects me.
Deacon leans back but keeps his hand lingering tantalizingly close to my thigh, his gaze intense. "Is this okay?" Deacon whispers against my ear, his breath hot. He doesn't wait for my answer before pressing closer, his hand moving in slow, deliberate circles that draw a moan from deep within me.
His fingertips trace a tingling path up my stomach, slipping under the hem of my shirt until his hand rests firmly on my breast. His fingers squeeze gently, sending shivers through my body as I melt into his touch.
"More than okay," I manage to gasp out. My body is betraying every doubt with its eagerness, desire pooling low in my belly.
He presses his lips against mine, his gaze locking onto mine as his fingers fumble with the button on my pants and slides the zipper down. His hand slips beneath my lace panties, sending a shiver through my body.
"You're so wet for us."
Deacon's words send a jolt of electricity through me, my body responding to his touch in ways I never thought possible. The heat between my legs is real, a testament to how much I want them, how much I need their touch.
“Please.”
“Fuck,” Jaxon curses in the front seat, his eyes locked on mine in the rearview.
Deacon thrusts his fingers inside me, and I cry out, my hips bucking against his hand. The pleasure is intense, unbearable, but I want more. I need more. I want to feel them all.
He adds a second finger, his thumb circling my throbbing clit. It feels so fucking good. I’m making noises that should embarrass me beyond belief, but I’m beyond caring. A series of curses come from the front seat, but I don’t have the ability to open my eyes and see who.
I’m climbing. The pressure is spreading until I can’t take it anymore.
“Come for us, Holly,” Cameron growls, and I can’t hold back anymore. I come with a loud cry, my inner walls clenching on Deacon’s fingers. Fuck, I wish it was something else.
I close my eyes, trying to steady my racing pulse as the car finally pulls up in front of the apartment building. Cameron makes a turn and the car slides smoothly into the parking garage. The space is dimly lit, casting shadows that feel like they're hiding us away from the world.
The engine cuts off, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. It's the calm before the storm, the calm before I step into a night that could shatter everything I thought I knew about myself. It's here, surrounded by concrete and steel, that I find my voice.
"Guys, wait." The words come out stronger than I expected.
The movement in the car stills. Three pairs of eyes—hungry, intense—lock onto me.
"I want this," I say, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I do. But I mean it. This has to be our secret. They can't know. The team can't know."
"Of course, Holly," Jaxon says, his voice a soothing rumble. "Your brother doesn't have to know a thing. No one does."
"Nobody will hear about it from us," Cameron adds, his green eyes serious, reflecting the promise in his words.
"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart," Deacon reassures me, his hand finally stilling against me, but the heat of him lingers like a brand.
"Good." Relief washes over me in an icy wave, but it's quickly consumed by the fire they've stoked inside me. "Then let's not keep the night waiting."
We spill out of the car, the cold snap of the air barely registering with any of us. Jaxon leads the way, a predator on the prowl. Cameron follows, silent and watchful. Deacon's hand finds the small of my back, a steady pressure that urges me forward.
The elevator doors close with a hushed ding, and I'm trapped in this small, moving box with three men who make my heart race. Deacon's fingers trace the bare skin of my arm, sending shivers cascading down my spine. He runs his fingers over my pebbled nipples beneath my shirt and down to cup my soaked mound. I’m writhing in his arms like some wanton hussy and I don’t even care. His gray eyes are alight with mischief as he leans in, and whispers against my ear.
"Can't wait to see you come undone."
I swallow hard, the anticipation building like a crescendo. The elevator dings again, announcing our arrival. My legs feel like they're made of something lighter than air as we stride toward their apartment, my pulse drumming in my ears.
The door swings open and we step into the dimly lit space. It closes with a definitive click, and suddenly, those hungry eyes are all on me. Jaxon's gaze is intense, Cam's deep, Deacon's fiery.
"Are you ready for us, Holly?" Jaxon's voice is like velvet, dark and inviting.
I nod, words failing me. I’m so ready.
In perfect sync, they start peeling off their clothes. Jaxon's shirt hits the floor, revealing that chiseled chest I've fantasized about more times than I care to admit. Cameron's height seems even more imposing as he shrugs out of his jacket, muscles rippling. And Deacon—God, Deacon—his shirt clings to his torso before he discards it, exposing the lines of his inked flesh.
I can't tear my eyes away. They're each a masterpiece of masculinity, sculpted and gorgeous. I'm standing here, drinking them in, feeling the dampness between my thighs grow. Am I really doing this?
Fuck, yes.
"Like what you see?" Cameron's voice pulls me back, his green eyes burning with a heat that mirrors the blaze trapped beneath my skin.
"Very much," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper, but it's enough.
"Good." Jaxon's smile is dangerous, full of promise, as he steps closer. "Because we're just getting started, sweetheart."
Jaxon's grip is firm and electrifies me as he pulls me close. His lips crash against mine, hard and hungry. There's no gentleness, just raw need that mirrors the storm of desire inside me. I gasp into his mouth, and his tongue takes advantage, exploring, claiming.
"Let's get this off," Deacon murmurs, fingers deftly unbuttoning my blouse. It falls away, cool air kissing my heated skin. Cameron's hands are just as busy at the zipper of my skirt. It pools at my feet, leaving me bare except for the lace that barely covers what they all clearly want.
I'm sandwiched between them, Jaxon's mouth still devouring mine, Deacon's hands roaming over my hips, his breath hot against my belly as he dips lower. And then there's Cameron, his presence like a solid wall at my back, his lips tracing fire down my shoulder, igniting every nerve ending.
"Beautiful," Cameron breathes against my skin, and I shiver.
"Fuck, Holly...you're so wet," Deacon growls from below, and I can feel his smile against my inner thigh before his tongue flicks out. I jolt, a strangled cry escaping me at the first touch of his mouth where I'm the most sensitive.
"Deac, make her sing for us," Jaxon commands without breaking the kiss, his hand entangled in my hair holding me captive to his will.
"Trust me," Deacon replies, voice thick with lust. "She will."
Cameron's hands slide around to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that are already tight with anticipation. Jaxon's kiss turns even more possessive, if possible, an unspoken promise that this is only the beginning. And as Deacon's mouth works its magic, drawing a chorus of moans from deep within me, I know one thing for certain:
I'm utterly and irrevocably theirs.
Sweat beads at my temples, and I can barely catch my breath. Jaxon's grip on me loosens, and his lips finally release mine. My head spins. I’m drunk on desire, and before I can even blink, Cameron is there. His kiss crashes into me—a wave of command and tenderness all at once. He tastes like mint and raw power, his tongue sliding against mine in a dance that leaves no room for doubt. I'm his to command, but he's worshiping me too.
"God, Holly," Cameron murmurs against my lips, and the sound of my name on his tongue sends a shiver down my spine. His hands are firm on my waist, grounding me in the whirlwind of sensation. I grind my hips, feeling his erection pressed into my back.
Deacon's mouth is relentless below, his tongue writing promises across my flesh that I'm aching for him to keep. Each graze of his tongue sends sparks shooting through me, building a fire that threatens to consume me whole. "Yes, Deac," I gasp, grasping at anything to steady myself—Cameron's hair, Jaxon’s shoulder—anything.
"Come for me, Hol. Let go." Deacon's voice vibrates against me, a sinful incantation.
I'm close, so damn close, teetering on the edge of something monumental. And then it hits—a tidal wave of pleasure that obliterates thought, sense, everything but the here and now. Deacon's name is a benediction on my lips as I shatter, my body singing with release.
"Beautiful," Cameron whispers, his breath hot on my cheek.
Before the tremors even have a chance to subside, strong arms envelop me. Jaxon is lifting me, carrying me away from the living room as though I weigh nothing. His eyes lock onto mine, dark with promise. Without a word, he tosses me onto the bed, and I bounce, giggling despite myself—a wild, reckless sound that echoes off the walls.
"Ready for more, Holly?" Jaxon smirks, and there's that dimple, winking at me.
"Try and keep up," I challenge, my voice breathy but determined.
Their laughter is a song that wraps around me, full of heat and something dangerously close to love. But it can’t be love, can it? I knock the crazy thought out of my head.
The bedroom is a blur of motion and heat. Jaxon's hands roam over my body. His lips trail fire along my neck. Cameron's touch is gentle but insistent as he positions himself between my legs, his green eyes locked on mine. Deacon hovers close, his breath hot against my ear.
"Tell us what you want, Holly," Deacon murmurs, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down my spine.
"Everything," I manage to say, the word more gasp than speech. "I want everything. All of it. All of you."
A chorus of approving groans fills the room. Jaxon's mouth captures mine in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. It's possessive, it's deep, it's everything. Meanwhile, Cameron teases me with the head of his cock, just at the entrance, making me squirm for more. Deacon watches, dark eyes glinting, before he guides his length to my lips.
"Open up, sweetheart." His tone is gentle yet commanding, and I obey without hesitation.
Cameron slides home, filling me completely, and I cry out onto Deacon's cock. The sensation is overwhelming, a stretch that's both sweet pain and divine pleasure. Jaxon pulls away to watch me, his gaze burning.
"Look at her, taking us like a champ," he says with a mixture of awe and lust. “So fucking beautiful.”
Deacon's hand threads through my hair. He’s setting a rhythm that I eagerly follow. I take him deeper, relishing the taste of him. Cameron sets a slow, deliberate pace, every thrust pushing me closer to the edge.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," Cameron breathes, his voice ragged.
"More," I plead, the word muffled around Deacon's girth.
"Give it to her," Jaxon encourages, his thumb circling my clit as I reach out and wrap my hand around his impressive girth. He grunts and presses his hips forward into my fingers.
"God, yes," Deacon groans as I suck him harder.
It's a dance of flesh and desire, each movement choreographed by primal need. The room spins, and the world narrows down to the three men worshiping my body. Jaxon's touch is electric on my skin, his kisses branding me. Cameron's steady pace becomes frantic, driving into me with a hunger that matches my own. Deacon's moans are music, spurring me on.
"Jaxon... Cam... Deac..." Their names become a mantra on my lips, a plea, a declaration.
And then it hits—a climax so intense that stars explode behind my closed eyelids. My body clenches around Cameron, milking him for all he's worth. Deacon spills into my mouth with a shout, and I savor him, the taste of salt and sin. Jaxon's fingers coax another wave of pleasure from me, relentless in their pursuit, as he spills over onto my fingers.
"Fuck, Holly!" Cameron curses as he finds his release, his voice laced with triumph.
"Good girl," Deacon praises, panting as he pulls back, looking down at me with eyes full of heat.
"Beautiful, just beautiful," Jaxon echoes softly, his thumb tracing my jawline.
As the waves recede, leaving me gasping and spent, one thought crystallizes in my mind: these boys have utterly and irrevocably ruined me for anyone else. And I don't regret it for a single second.