CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE RULE OF THREE
Wyatt
We’re two hours into a movie none of us are watching when Jordie breaks the silence.
“I’m horny.”
Elise chokes on her water. I don’t move from my position on the couch, Elise tucked against my side, her head on my chest. But my body responds immediately to the words, blood rushing south before my brain can catch up.
“Of course you are,” Elise manages, setting her water down. “You’re always horny.”
“That’s not true.” Jordie’s sprawled on the other end of the couch, her feet in his lap. He’s been doing this thing all night where he massages her ankle, her calf, getting progressively higher. Testing. “Sometimes I’m hungry.”
“Jordie—”
“What?” He grins, shameless. “We had a great day. We established we’re doing this—whatever this is. And now we’re sitting here pretending to watch a movie while I’m thinking about the fact that you promised me a raincheck.”
My hand stills where it’s been playing with her hair. “Raincheck?”
“From the party,” Elise explains, and I can feel the heat in her face against my chest. “I told him I’d come to his room after everyone left, but then you—”
“Needed her more,” I finish. No shame in it. She saved me that night. Gave me eight hours of sleep I desperately needed.
“Exactly.” Jordie’s hand slides higher on her leg, just above her knee. “So technically, she owes me.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” Elise says, but there’s no bite in it.
“Poor choice of words.” Jordie’s eyes are dark now, heated. “Let me rephrase. I would very much like to finish what we started at that party. And I’m thinking Wyatt might want to join us.”
The words hang in the air. Bold. Direct. So fucking Jordie.
Elise shifts against me and I can feel her breathing change, getting faster. She’s not saying no.
“Wyatt?” Her voice is careful. “What do you think?”
What do I think? I think I’ve been hard for the last twenty minutes just from having her pressed against me. I think watching Jordie’s hands on her has been driving me insane with want. I think the idea of both of us touching her, learning her together, is about to short-circuit my brain.
But I need to be sure. Need to know this is what she wants, not just what Jordie’s pushing for.
“Is that something you want?” I ask her quietly.
She tilts her head to look up at me, those hazel eyes searching my face. “Both of you? At the same time?”
“Yeah.”
She’s quiet for a moment, thinking. I can feel her heart racing against my ribs.
“I’ve never—” She stops. Starts again. “I don’t know how that would even work.”
“We figure it out together.” Jordie’s voice is softer now, that playful edge giving way to something more genuine. “No pressure. No expectations. We just… see what feels good.”
“And if I want to stop?”
“Then we stop,” I say immediately. “Any time. For any reason.”
She looks between us, and I can see the war happening behind her eyes. Want versus fear versus uncertainty.
Then she sits up, pulls away from me slightly. My chest aches at the loss of her warmth.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
“Yeah?” Jordie’s already moving, crawling across the couch toward her.
“Yeah. But—” She holds up a hand, stopping him. “We’re not having sex. Not tonight. Not all three of us. I’m not ready for that yet.”
“Okay.” Jordie doesn’t even hesitate. “What are you ready for?”
She bites her lip, thinking. “Everything else?”
The words go straight to my dick.
“Everything else works for me.” Jordie looks at me. “Wyatt?”
I’m still processing the fact that this is happening. That Elise just agreed to let both of us touch her. That I’m about to learn what she sounds like when she comes.
“Yeah,” I manage. “That works.”
Jordie moves first because of course he does. He’s always been braver than me, more willing to take what he wants without overthinking it.
He cups Elise’s face, kisses her slow and deep, and I watch them for a moment, letting myself want this without the usual guilt that follows wanting anything.
Then Elise reaches for me blindly, her hand finding my thigh, and I take it as the invitation it is.
I move behind her on the couch, bracketing her body with mine while Jordie kisses her from the front. My hands find her waist, slide under her shirt to feel warm skin, and she arches back into me with a gasp that Jordie swallows.
“Bedroom,” Jordie murmurs against her mouth. “More room.”
“Whose?” Elise asks.
“Mine.” Jordie stands, pulls her up with him. “Bed’s bigger.”
We make our way upstairs, a tangle of limbs and anticipation. Grant’s door is closed, his car still not in the driveway. He’s probably at the rink still, working through whatever demons are chasing him today.
Part of me feels guilty about this. He’s my captain. My teammate. And we’re about to—
Elise’s hand finds mine and the thought dissolves. Grant had his chance. Multiple chances. This is ours.
Jordie’s room is exactly what you’d expect—organized chaos, hockey posters, clothes on the floor. He doesn’t bother cleaning up, just pulls Elise to the bed and sits, pulling her onto his lap.
I close the door behind us. Lock it out of habit.
“Come here,” Jordie tells me, and there’s command in his voice that I’m not used to hearing off the ice.
I sit next to them on the bed and Jordie maneuvers Elise so she’s straddling his lap, facing me. His hands are already under her shirt, working it up and off.
She’s wearing a simple black bra. Nothing fancy. But the way she looks—cheeks flushed, lips swollen from Jordie’s kisses, hair messy—is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Your turn,” Jordie says to me.
I lean forward, cup the back of Elise’s neck, and kiss her. She tastes like the mint tea she was drinking earlier and something sweeter. Her mouth opens for me immediately, her tongue meeting mine, and I can feel Jordie’s hands on her from behind, working at her bra clasp.
The bra falls away and Jordie makes this sound of appreciation that makes my dick throb.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands coming around to cup her breasts, and Elise breaks the kiss to gasp.
I watch his hands on her, calloused against her pale skin, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they peak. She’s making these small sounds, her head falling back against his shoulder.
“Touch her,” Jordie tells me. “She likes it when—”
I don’t need to be told twice. My mouth finds her neck, her collarbone, working lower while Jordie’s hands keep working her breasts. When I close my lips around her nipple, she cries out, her hands flying to my hair.
“Fuck,” Jordie groans. “Wyatt, that’s—keep doing that.”
I work her with my mouth while Jordie’s hands roam, sliding down her stomach, working at the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips to help him and he slides them down along with her underwear, leaving her completely bare on his lap.
“Look at you,” Jordie murmurs, his hand sliding between her thighs. “Already so wet for us.”
Elise makes this sound—half moan, half whimper—that makes me want to hear it again. I switch to her other breast, using my teeth slightly, and her hips jerk against Jordie’s hand.
“Bed,” I say roughly. “Lay her down.”
Jordie shifts her onto the mattress, and she’s spread out before us, flushed and wanting, and I have to take a second to just look at her.
“Stop staring and get naked,” she says, but her voice is breathy, affected.
“Bossy,” Jordie grins, but he’s already stripping off his shirt. “I like it.”
I follow suit, and when we’re both down to our boxer briefs, Elise’s eyes go dark, tracking over our bodies with obvious appreciation.
“Better,” she says.
Jordie climbs onto the bed, positions himself between her legs. “Gonna make you come with my mouth. Then Wyatt’s gonna make you come with his. Then maybe we’ll use our hands. Sound good?”
“Less talking,” Elise manages. “More—oh fuck—”
Jordie’s already going down on her, and the sound she makes is obscene. Her back arches, her hands fist in his hair, and I’m mesmerized watching her fall apart.
I move up the bed, kiss her while Jordie works between her legs. She kisses me back desperately, her moans swallowed by my mouth, her body writhing.
When she comes, she breaks the kiss to cry out, and I watch her face contort with pleasure, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Jordie works her through it, then looks up at me with a satisfied grin. “Your turn.”
We switch positions. Jordie moves up to kiss her while I settle between her thighs, and when I taste her—sweet and musky and perfect—I understand why Jordie looked so satisfied.
She’s sensitive from the first orgasm, gasping and squirming, but I hold her hips down and learn what makes her moan, what makes her thighs shake, what makes her say my name like a prayer.
When she comes on my tongue, I’m so hard it hurts, but watching her fall apart again makes it worth it.
“Too much,” she gasps when I keep going. “I can’t—”
“You can,” Jordie tells her, his hand wrapping around her throat gently. Not squeezing, just holding. “One more. Give us one more.”
And she does, screaming this time, her whole body tensing before she goes limp.
I kiss back up her body while she catches her breath, and when I reach her mouth, she kisses me deep, tasting herself on my tongue.
“You guys are—” She can’t seem to finish the sentence. “That was—”
“We’re not done,” Jordie says. He’s rock hard in his boxer briefs, a wet spot visible.