25. Meg
MEG
I can’t hold questions and court filings and fundraisers without knowing where I stand with the three men I love. I text them from Bea’s before close: Tonight. Kitchen. All four. They reply with thumbs and bees and a heart.
My stomach does a nervous flip that has nothing to do with espresso.
At eight, I lay out notebooks, pens, and a pot of tea. The honey candle Hudson made—brAVE—burns low on the counter. Hudson brings bowls of cut fruit and pretzels. Rocco carries water and his neat legal pad. Oliver brings a printed agenda. We sit, elbows touching, and I take a breath.
“I need us to put a name on what we’re doing and map the logistics. I can’t juggle hearings, inspections, vendors, and a secret situation. I don’t want secret. I want it clear.”
“Clear,” Oliver agrees.
“Clear,” Rocco echoes.
Hudson nods. “Say the thing, and we’ll back it.”
“What are we to each other?” I look at each of them. “Because the words matter. We’ve been best friends since middle school, and…I think we all know this is more than that now. So, what do we call it? What are you guys looking for?”
“I don’t know all the correct poly or open or whatever terms…” Rocco leans forward. “But I think of us as a four-cornered partnership. Four points, one shape. Not a triangle with a spare. All of us choosing all of us .”
Hudson rubs his thumb over my knuckles. “Sounds like a square.”
Oliver snorts. “We’ve always been a little square.”
Hudson rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth upturns.
“Then let’s adopt it. A square. A four-cornered partnership.
Whichever.” Saying it out loud settles something low in my chest. “Next up is schedules. I have the shop, I open at seven, close at five, plus events. You have practice, games, and volunteer shifts. The next two weeks are packed. I need windows where we’re together on purpose.
And I need nights where we are not, because I have to sleep. ”
Oliver slides the agenda toward me. “Block party fallout tomorrow, practice at ten, I have the bank call at noon. Rocco has the shelter. Hudson has Meals on Wheels. Nights: dinner here by eight, no legal talk after nine.”
Hudson adds, “Game days, we keep physical contact light until after the horn. No new stressors on my head.”
Rocco draws boxes. “Rotations for overnight, so no one burns out. Meg’s bed is Meg’s. Guests are allowed by invite only. If you want company, ask. If you want space, say it.”
“I like that,” I say. “And I want standing check-ins, fifteen minutes each night. Colors. Green, yellow, red.”
Oliver nods. “Green we’re good, yellow we have a wobble, red stop and triage. Done.”
“Next is the press.” My stomach tightens. I know this is touchy for Hudson. “We need a plan. People are watching. We can’t keep pretending the photos aren’t real. I don’t want to feed the machine, but I also don’t want you hammered in scrums.”
Hudson stares at his water. “Last week was bad. I won’t give them that again.
PR has a statement if they push.” He looks at me.
“We say we keep our private lives private, we’re focused on the team and the community, and we won’t answer questions about the shop beyond posted updates. We shut it down fast.”
Oliver adds, “If the team asks internally, we answer simply—we’re adults, we are together, it isn’t a distraction. If a teammate crosses a line, we bring it to Coach.”
“Good. Now my shop. Disclosures.” I open my notebook to a page titled STAFF. “They all know. They don’t care. I’m pretty sure something poly is happening between Bex, Tom, and Anthony, but I haven’t figured it out. Either way, no one is judging us.”
“What’s the message?” Rocco asks.
“Money. House expenses. Food. Candles. I can’t let you carry me. I’ll contribute what I can.”
Oliver nods once. “Shared spreadsheet. Everyone logs groceries and shared costs. No hero buys. You keep your savings for the fight.”
Rocco jumps in. “Sleeping arrangements. Hudson’s room is best for group nights because the bed is big. Other nights by request. No pressure. No keeping score.”
“Sex,” I say, because we have to say it. “We keep what we already set—consent out loud, aftercare, the stop word is hive or red . Tests up to date. No surprises. No games.”
They nod in agreement.
Rocco taps his pen. “Jealousy. We say it when it hits. We don’t punish. We signal when we need a one-on-one. We make space without making distance.”
I write all of it down. The list looks like a manual, and that helps me breathe. “Okay. We’re a four-cornered partnership with a plan.” I look up. “Any objections?”
Hudson shakes his head. “No objections.”
Rocco smiles. “None.”
Oliver squeezes my knee under the table. “Adopted.”
The room shifts. Saying the thing took weight off my chest and put heat under my skin. From the looks on their faces, I’m not the only one. Hudson notices first and grins. “Kitchen’s a bad place for this next part. My room?”
“The next part?” I smirk. “What makes you think there’s a next part?”
But we all know it. Those bedroom eyes, the way Rocco’s whole energy darkens when sex is on his mind. Even sunshiney Oliver can’t keep eyes face placid. And Hudson’s smirk is downright dirty.
My body answers before my mouth does. I blow out the candle and carry the pot of tea to the sink on reflex. Then I stop and leave it. Tonight is not about tidy.
Hudson scoops me up from behind, and I laugh until his lips are on me as he carries me to his room. Rocco and Oliver follow. Inside, the lamp is on low. Hudson bounces me onto his bed, and the three of them work together to remove my clothes. All I have to do is lie there.
As soon as I’m nude, Hudson kisses me like I’m the only thing in the world.
His mouth is warm, and his stubble burns my lips.
Rocco comes behind me, rolls me onto my side, and kisses the back of my neck while his hands slide up my arm.
Oliver joins us with his hand on my hip, grounding me. I sink into all of it.
Hands over my ribs and waist, patient at first because they know I like to take my time. “More.” I tell them. “Don’t go slow. Not tonight.”
The pace shifts. Hudson’s mouth goes to my throat, and he breathes there until my knees feel loose. Then, his teeth clamp as his hand slides between my thighs.
Oliver kisses my mouth again and again, small and careful, a question each time that I answer by opening. Rocco’s hands are slow and sure, and he lets out a quiet hum in my ear as he finds the paths that make me shiver.
I have no idea when they stripped too.
Hudson kisses down my chest, asking with his mouth and his hands where to stop and where to press. He wedges between my thighs, face-first, and when he sucks my clit into his mouth, lights burst behind my eyelids.
Oliver lies next to me and keeps my face in his hands while he kisses me slow enough that I don’t spin. “Tell us what you want, baby.”
Even with Hudson’s mouth on me there, I manage to speak. “Make me forget.”
“Done,” Hudson says between licks. Then he goes for it even harder, and my eyes roll back. I can’t hold on to his hair like Oliver’s—it’s too short. I dig my nails into his scalp instead, aiming him where I want him and riding his face. It’s all I can do not to clamp my legs over his shoulders too.
But then Oliver is in my face, straddling my chest to feed me his pretty cock. I nod when I see it and swallow him down, earning a pleased tight hiss from him as he begins to fuck my face.
Rocco’s hand finds the line of my waist and holds me while Hudson settles between my legs. He knows my tells now—the way my hips twitch, the way my breath changes, the sounds I make when he’s right there, just right there.
They hold me down, just like they always have. The weight of them isn’t smothering. It makes me feel safe and wanted and hot and a little trapped, but in that good way.
My breath catches and then releases. The world narrows to the sounds they make and the way my body says yes again and again.
Just as Oliver’s cock throbs against my lips, he pulls out. He kisses me first. “Not yet, baby.”
Rocco kisses my shoulder and keeps me steady as Hudson pounds into me.
Oliver kisses my mouth and strokes my hair off my face so he can see me.
We move together for a long time, the four of us making small adjustments without words.
When Oliver needs his mouth on my throat, I tilt for him.
When Rocco needs to feel my hand, he takes it and laces our fingers and squeezes.
When I tighten around Hudson, he bucks back.
Together. All of us together.
The heat builds inside of me, and just as I think I might burst, Rocco’s big hand flattens over my mouth. I panic for just a flash, but it dies when I see the love in his eyes. “Hold the breath. You’re close, amor. This will make it better.”
I trust him completely. Even if it’s scary.
And then, I feel it. That buildup crests, swells, and crests again. No more thoughts. The edges go black. And then, chaos inside.
I don’t remember screaming, but I hear myself do it. Rocco kisses me, Hudson slams himself inside of me, and Oliver pins my hands over my head, while they wreck me completely. Pleasure rides me, every cell, every vein, every nerve.
I am nothing but my orgasm, a firestorm within until the world goes quiet.
The first thing I hear is my breathing. Then theirs.
I blink and look around and realize just how wet I am. Hudson huffs at the end of the bed, eyes on me. Cock limp now, mouth cursing. “…coming back to us?”
My mouth is dry. I rasp out, “Yeah. Think so.”
Oliver passes me a glass of water, and I gulp it down clumsily. He smirks. “We gotta do that again.”
“Give a girl a minute.”
He snorts, and the other two chuckle. “Pretty sure I meant in the future sometime, not immediately. I um…well…” He gestures to his limp cock and then my thigh where he came on me. “That was too hot. Couldn’t hold back.”
I giggle at that. “Glad you enjoyed the show.”
“His flesh is weak,” Rocco growls as he spreads my legs with his body. “Mine is not.” He thrusts in, and it’s all I can do to take him.
My pussy is still rolling in pleasure, and now, stuffed with him, I’m about to come again. Can’t stop it if I tried. We shift, bodies finding new angles without losing contact. He tastes like me and like tea, and I cling to his shoulders and breathe him in.
“That’s it, amor. You’re doing so good. Not every girl can take what I have to give.” He nuzzles against my neck as he pumps into me. “But you’re the one. Just like that, ride me from underneath. Take it. Take it all.”
“Don’t stop!” I gasp and press my face into Rocco’s neck. I’m right there until I’m over the edge, struggling to breathe through it and failing. Hudson curses and spreads my ankles wide behind Rocco, changing the angle.
It makes my orgasm hit harder, faster, and I can’t think to safeword or breathe or anything, because I have no thoughts anymore. Just my climax, hitting over and over again. Rocco holds me through the aftershocks, whispering that I’m okay until I am as Hudson sets my feet to the bed again.
What the hell was that?
We breathe for a minute. Water. Kisses. Hands on skin that feels almost too hot. Then I look up, and the heat rises again without warning. I need them. I need this. “Again,” I say, and I laugh at myself, because I didn’t think I had it in me.
Oliver abruptly rolls me over onto my stomach, and so much wet drips onto the bed that if I had thoughts left, I might feel guilty for Hudson’s sheets. But then Oliver easily glides in from behind because I’m still so damn wet, and hooks his arms beneath my shoulders. “Round two.”
He reaches underneath me and strokes me with his hand.
I jump hard enough from the shock that our bodies smack together.
But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up. He plays with my clit in time with his thrusts, and then Hudson and Rocco each take a hand and hold me to the bed as he fucks me and forces me to come on his cock.
There is no word for this but taking . Pure and simple. And I want them to take me in every way possible.
Oliver pumps into me, teeth where my neck and shoulder meet. He licks the teeth impressions and growls, “If you’re a good girl, I’ll fuck your ass tonight. But you have to beg for it. Beg pretty for it. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I manage to hiss out. “Please! I want it all!” I barely know what I’m saying—his length rubs against my G-spot for inches on every stroke, and his fingers dance around my clit as I see stars.
When a finger of his presses against my ass, I come again, squirming against him, for him, because of him. That finger slips in, making my orgasm into rolling thunder.
“That’s it. We’re going again,” Hudson promises. He’s hard again. So is Rocco.
We’re just getting started. Terrible shame about all the things we were supposed to do in the morning. I grin into the pillow as they roll me over, and we begin again.