Santa’s Pucking Hat Trick (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

19. Wes

19

WES

I ’d heard of people being hypnotized by good sex. People making bad or stupid or reckless decisions because they were so overtaken with lust after sleeping with someone that they forgot all common sense. I never quite thought I’d be the type to fall prey to that, but ever since that day in Rachel’s office, I’d been unable to think about anything but getting inside her again.

Not just that, really. I wanted to see her again. To spend time with her. To…show her I was interested in her, not just for more mind-blowing sex, but in a more substantial way. All hopes that I was over my childhood crush on her were now dashed, and I was head over heels for the girl next door just as thoroughly as I’d been years ago. Desperate for an opportunity to connect with her again.

Which is why I was here now, carrying a bouquet of flowers and sneaking into the Henning’s backyard, en route to the guest house. Delusional? Maybe. But romantic? Also yes.

They were sort of thank-you flowers, to be fair. Not just “thanks for deigning to fuck me!” but an expression of gratitude for the kind words she’d spoken to me beforehand, and how said confidence boost had fueled me on the ice in our first hockey game of the season. My teammates all knew something was up with me by how aggressively, how ruthlessly I’d played that day. It was like Rachel had unlocked some level of confidence I hadn’t known I needed.

And the way she stuck up for me with Sharon…yeah, that deserved a thank-you too. I hadn’t heard from the Wicked Witch of Mistletoe since we sent that video and text message read receipts told me she’d gotten it. It was the most insane thing I’d ever done, but something about it was thrilling too. Rachel had emboldened me even before I’d gotten to experience the bliss of being inside her.

Before I could make it to Rachel’s door, an unmistakable voice boomed across the yard. I used my athletic instincts to dart quickly behind a hedge, tucking the bouquet of flowers in the shadows with me.

Michael laughed at something I didn’t hear—something one of the other Hennings said, I presumed. He walked within a few feet of me in my secret bush hiding spot as he left through the back gate, whistling, not a care in the world. It was the most accurate summation of my best friend’s personality possible. And for the first time, while I held a cheap bouquet of flowers for his twin sister, I considered what all of this meant for my relationship with Michael.

Rachel was a big girl, obviously. She was allowed to date—or at least sleep with, since that was just my own wishful thinking getting away from me—whoever she wanted, regardless of how it may affect her brother. But I wasn’t sure how my fooling around with Rachel would impact her relationship with Michael, or my relationship with him, for that matter.

He was a nice guy. The nicest, really—he’d been kind to me even when I was that nerdy kid and he was the typical cool guy every underdog learned to fear, but without the bad attitude. He stood up for people like me, and fostered genuine friendships with us too. Surely he was kind and understanding enough to know my character, that I wasn’t going to hurt Rachel and I cared about her more than was probably logical at this point. He didn’t have to ever know the filth the two of us had gotten up to in her office that day, just that I liked her and wanted to see her again. I knew he’d want the best for Rachel too. For both of us.

But again, getting ahead of myself. I didn’t know if Rachel would even want more from me, no matter how much she seemed to enjoy what I did to her—what we did for each other.

Anyway, hopefully the flowers would be a point in the “give Wes a chance” column.

I darted over to the guest house now that Michael was gone, hoping not to be caught by any other stray Hennings on my quick trip over here. I knocked on the door before I could convince myself not to.

I heard some shuffling inside the guest house. And then…more shuffling. I imagined, absurdly, that Rachel was in the middle of some complicated task, like she was assembling furniture. But the door finally opened eventually, and Rachel popped her head and shoulders out through the narrow space she allowed.

She looked different. Less polished than normal. Partly because of her messy dark hair, the fuzzy gray robe she seemed to have thrown on before answering the door. But also, she had glasses on. Plastic tortoiseshell frames, a warm contrast to her cool eyes, which were looking up at me with utter shock. I tried to contain my blush.

“Wes? What are you…doing here?” she asked slowly as she began to notice the flowers I held out to her. She blinked, adjusted her robe so that she was holding it closed with one hand, and reached for the bouquet. It crinkled as she took it. “These are…lovely. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” I told her. “I know it’s weird for me to just, uh, drop by. Like, without calling or anything. But I was hoping, if you had a minute, that we could talk?”

Rachel’s eyes darted back over her shoulder, as if she was concerned about something—some one— interrupting or making itself known. This cagey behavior made me notice her a little more closely. The mess of her hair, like she’d been sleeping…or freshly fucked. The fact that she held that robe tightly as if there was nothing underneath it.

Christ. Was Roman inside her guest house right now, having just slept with her again? Was she still sleeping with him, even after she’d slept with me? Was I really that stupid? I didn’t have a great track record with women, but I never thought I was the type to read too much into a brief situationship.

“Is someone in there?” I asked Rachel, my tone more demanding than I had a right to be. I wasn’t normally a jealous person, but there was no denying that was the response this woman was eliciting in me right now. Her eyes grew wide, the blush on her cheeks confirming my suspicion even before I went a little mad and shoved through the door, pushing past her despite her weak protest.

And I was right—there was someone sprawled out comfortably in Rachel’s bed. I didn’t find who I expected to see, though.

“ Sawyer ?”

Somehow, the sight of the steady, commitment-driven goalie threw me off guard so much that all the anger flowed out of me. The pissed-off wind stopped propelling my sails like the sudden ocean stillness before a storm.

But there was no sight of the storm either. Just…calm. And underneath my bizarre acceptance of this ridiculous situation, I had another inexplicable feeling. Something like…affection?

The longer I gaped in silence at my friend, who I would have thought seemed unbothered if I didn’t know him well enough to notice how his posture was subtly tensed as if to fight or flee, the firmer my thoughts became. Somehow, on some weird deeply buried level of my subconscious, I was happy for Sawyer. That he’d finally found a way to get back out there after his ex-wife shattered his heart. That he was, at the very least, back in the habit of sleeping with other women. That was the first step to moving on.

But did he have to move on with Rachel? A less-mature part of my brain was ready to get the rage going again. God, this whole situation was a mess.

“What the hell are you doing here, Wes?” Sawyer demanded, sitting up further in bed so that his whole shirtless torso was bare. His hair looked just as mussed as Rachel’s had been—more, even, since his curls were frizzing and poofy. He gripped Rachel’s bedding around his crotch, hiding the fact that he must have been naked under there. Damn it. God fucking damn it.

“Me? I’m here to see Rachel.” I waved the bouquet of flowers lamely in my hand. Rachel came up behind me and grabbed them, muttering a quiet thank-you that I didn’t have time to acknowledge. “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked my friend.

“I thought it’d be pretty obvious,” Sawyer deadpanned, and it took way too much self-control to keep myself from running over and dragging his ass out of bed by his hair.

Maybe I was a jealous person after all. And borderline catty to boot.

“You’re sleeping with Rachel,” I practically spat the words. Sawyer raised an eyebrow.

“Jealous?”

“This is so fucked,” I almost laughed. I looked at Rachel, who held the bouquet like some kind of shield, her face screwed up in a near permanent cringe. I didn’t know what to do about the fact that she made my heart skip a couple of beats even when I’d just learned about her boning another of my friends. “Are you just making your way through our whole team?”

“Of course not,” Rachel snapped. She laid the bouquet on top of the nearest piece of furniture and stepped closer, her bare feet on the floor less intimidating than her usual work heels. She seemed so much smaller, even though she was still on the taller side without the towering shoes. “I don’t have interest in anyone else. Just…you two.”

“And Roman,” I corrected her. She winced again, nodding. Sawyer let out a laugh that sounded almost genuine, though this news seemed to be a surprise to him—he hadn’t known about her hookup with Roman, then. Rachel let out a puff of breath and told me, “Thanks for the flowers.”

“Christ, Rach. I came over here because I…I like you. In a real way. I want to date you, not just fuck around. Do you think either of my friends are gonna offer you that?”

She blinked at me, those storm surge eyes so beautiful even when they were full of guilt and confusion. “You…you want to date me.”

“I do,” I confirmed.

“After I slept with both of your best friends and you in like…not a lot of time.”

“Yeah,” I repeated gruffly. “I’m not really a hookup guy. And I’ve liked you since we were kids. You know that.”

“What do you mean, I can’t offer her that?” Sawyer spoke up. I’d been too distracted to notice he’d gotten out of the bed and thrown on some pants at least, though his buff, manlier physique was still on display without a shirt and that made me feel a little scrawny by comparison.

“You don’t date,” I reminded my friend. “Not since Alicia.”

“I’m still a relationship guy,” Sawyer asserted. “I was married, for fuck’s sake. You think that means I can’t handle a commitment?”

“I thought you didn’t want that,” Rachel squeaked, but somehow this had turned into a pissing contest between just us hockey guys. We were nearly chest to chest, and I almost wondered if we were going to fight, but then her small hands came up to each of our hearts, gently urging us away from one another. She looked at Sawyer, leaving me staring at her tangled mass of dark hair. “Do you want more too? Was the no-strings thing an act?”

Sawyer’s jaw clenched. “It wasn’t an act. But if Wes is man enough to admit it, then hell yeah, I’d like more with you too.”

“Fuck,” she let out, laughing as she looked between the two of us. She threw up her hands, letting her robe fall open just enough that I could see the shadow of skin between her breasts. “I mean, I like both of you too much for just sex too. There’s no denying the connection I feel with each of you. But I’m not really looking to be tied down, especially in Mistletoe. And…well, we kind of all work together? For the team? It seems…messy. Unprofessional.”

“Pretty sure the professionalism thing already died when you sucked my dick,” I told Rachel, my face reddening as I said it, and after a split second of wide-eyed shock, she was laughing.

Then Sawyer was laughing too. A booming, low sound he didn’t let out too often these days. And I felt my own laughter bubble up, surprising me until we were all in near hysterics, falling over each other as the ridiculousness of the situation sank in.

“I guess,” Rachel finally started to say as she caught her breath, “it’s pretty unprofessional to sleep with three of the players on the hockey team you work for.”

“No wonder Roman was such a mess during our first game,” Sawyer thought out loud. “You fucked the talent right out of him, Rach.”

“I did not!” Rachel asserted, laughing again through her indignation.

“She’s got a magic pussy or something,” I mused. “How else would I have played so well? And she’s got us all screwed up after just the one time each.”

“Must be magic to get Roman’s head out of the game. Lord knows he’s had way more pussy than the rest of us,” Sawyer agreed.

“I’m not sure it’s ever been referred to as magic before,” Rachel chuckled, “but I’ve never had any complaints.”

“I certainly had none,” Sawyer purred into her ear, and suddenly the vibe shift in the room was tangible, filling all three of our heads with dirty thoughts. Rachel more than either of the two of us, apparently, because her eyes were heavy-lidded as she looked from Sawyer to me.

“You, Wes? Anything to say about my so-called magic pussy?”

Fuck. Hearing the lusty, low tone of her voice, seeing her flirt with me so blatantly while Sawyer watched, while she was touching us both, had me instantly getting hot. I swallowed hard and told her, “Just that it’s perfect, and I’d love to be inside it again. To taste it, finally.”

“It’s fucking heaven,” Sawyer told me, not looking away from Rachel. “Sweet as honey, and the little sounds she makes as she comes…”

“Too good to be true,” I agreed with him. Somehow, we’d all closed in on one another during this exchange, so now Rachel was touching each of us, looking up at me while her ass seemed to press against Sawyer at her back. She let out a little breathy sound.

“I’d come even harder if both of you fucked me at once,” Rachel purred. “All three of you at once? I’d black out from pleasure.”

Shit. My heart was racing fast enough for me to fear cardiac distress, and Sawyer and I made eye contact suddenly, both clearly considering it. Was Rachel serious? Was I reading the room correctly in thinking she was asking us both to fuck her right now?

It was insane. Both because it didn’t feel weird to consider sleeping with this woman alongside one of my best friends, and because I’d never considered myself worthy of this level of desire. Sharon and I had kept up a moderately satisfying sex life, but she wasn’t nearly as responsive to me as Rachel already had been. She also wasn’t into anything remotely freaky, anything spicier than pure vanilla. Honestly, a desire for more passion in the bedroom had been a small factor in my decision to break things off with her. I never felt confident, never felt sexy, until Rachel had given me that power.

Her and her fucking magic pussy.

“What do you think, Wes?” Sawyer asked me, eyes blazing with his own need for Rachel, his own determination to give her everything she wanted. “Think we can tag team things for her sake? Give Rachel the best orgasms of her life?”

I met Rachel’s eyes, then. She was biting her lip, almost nervous, but I could already feel how turned on she was. I could imagine how wet she was for me, for both of us, and I’d never wanted anything more than I now wanted to lick her until she screamed my name.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I said, sealing all three of our fates.