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

21. Roman

21

ROMAN

I was late getting to the ice rink for practice. Again.

As I jogged down the corridor of the rink, skates slung over my shoulder, I could already picture the looks on the guys’ faces when I finally made it into the locker room. Wes would probably shake his head, Michael would give me shit for it, and Sawyer—well, Sawyer would just grunt, but I’d hear the judgment in that grunt. This was the third time this week I’d been late, not that I cared or was counting.

I rounded the corner, hoping I could sneak into practice without too much fanfare, when I saw Jerry and Ray, two of the guys who pulled the strings behind the Skatin’ Santas, standing at the entrance to the rink. They spotted me instantly, and my stomach dropped.

“Roman, hold up a second,” Jerry called out, his voice just stern enough to let me know this wasn’t going to be a casual conversation. Not like Jerry was capable of casual, anyway. He gave me the vibe of a teacher who lived in the bowels of the school, the nightmare of every delinquent teen like myself.

I cursed under my breath and slowed to a stop. “What?”

Ray folded his arms, looking me over with a raised eyebrow. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, trying to shrug it off. “Traffic was a mess. What can you do?”

“Traffic?” Ray scoffed. “In Mistletoe? What, did Santa’s reindeer get loose?”

“Oh, yeah. Big time. There was a whole antler brawl in the middle of town square.”

Jerry stepped forward, his expression less amused and more serious. “Your lateness is not the only issue, Roman, and you know it. We need to talk about your image. We’ve got a problem.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “I thought we’d already talked about this.”

“Let’s take this to the office,” Jerry said, motioning for me to follow them. My heart sank as I followed them down the hall. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good.

The office was small and cramped, full of paperwork and the smell of stale coffee. Jerry took a seat behind his desk, Ray leaning against the wall with his arms still crossed.

“Listen, Roman,” Jerry began, “your performance in the first game of the season? It wasn’t up to par. And that’s a problem for us. A big problem.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Jerry held up a hand.

“Don’t get me wrong. We know you’ve got talent, but you’re not focused. It’s like your head’s not in the game, and it’s showing. We can’t afford that. Not after everything that’s happened with your image the past year.”

I clenched my jaw. My reputation wasn’t exactly spotless. I’d been cocky, made some mistakes, rubbed people the wrong way. But I thought we were past all that. Apparently not.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice steady even though my gut was churning.

Ray finally spoke up, his tone more cutting than Jerry’s. “We’re saying if you don’t shape up, we’re going to have to look at our options. There are teams out there that might be interested in a trade.”

A trade.

Once, that would’ve been music to my ears. Getting out of Mistletoe, off this small-town team, and into a bigger market? That was the dream. Or at least, it used to be.

But now…I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave the team, and I sure as hell didn’t want to leave her.

As if on cue, the door swung open, and Rachel walked in. She looked as confused as I felt, her eyes flicking between me, Jerry, and Ray.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her tone all business. I could see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes when they landed on me, but she stayed professional, not letting on that we were anything more than coworkers.

“Ms. Henning,” Ray said, acknowledging her with a nod. “We were just discussing Roman’s…performance. Both on and off the ice.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed slightly, her jaw tightening. “I thought we’d been over this already. I’m working on it.”

Jerry leaned back in his chair, giving her a measured look. “Roman needs to rehab his image more than ever, and fast. After his performance in the first game, we’re running out of time. We called you in because you’re in charge of his PR now, and while you’ve pulled off something pretty great with that little photoshoot idea, Roman is a serious case. If he doesn’t get his act together, we might have to explore other options.”

Rachel shot me a quick glance, but I could tell she was as rattled by this as I was. Still, she kept her cool externally, though I saw her knuckles turning white in her lap. “I see. Well, Roman’s been working hard on improving his image, and we’ve actually just come up with a new initiative to show that. Right, Roman?”

I blinked at this quick volley in my direction, not having the faintest idea what she was talking about.

“You know,” she said again, more intense this time, looking at me with panic-fueled murder in her eyes. “ The plan. We’ve talked about this.”

We hadn’t talked about this at all. But I’d always been fast at thinking on my feet—on the ice, at least. It couldn’t just fall on her. Rachel hadn’t been the one to ruin my rep in the first place, and I certainly didn’t want her to lose her job on my account. Plus, there was a selfish element; I’d see her way less if she wasn’t around the ice center all the time. So I had to come up with the solution, and it came out of my mouth faster than my brain could catch up.

“We’re going to visit the children’s hospital here in Mistletoe,” I continued for her, coming up with the idea off the dome. “I’ll spend time with the kids, maybe even run a mini hockey clinic for them. Rachel’s gonna invite the local press, obviously, get some good publicity going.” I shrugged. “Simple.”

“Exactly,” Rachel hurried to confirm the plan, relief showing in every inch of her body, which was satisfying to see. Almost as satisfying as it had been to make her come. She continued, “We’re going to show everyone that Roman’s a team player, both on and off the ice.”

Jerry raised an eyebrow, and Ray looked like he was chewing over the idea.

“It was all Rachel’s idea,” I added, pretending this whole plan existed before just now. “And I think she’s right. It’ll be a good way to give back to the community, you know?”

Never mind the fact that I already donated plenty of money to local charities. But that wasn’t something I publicized, nor would it be enough to establish that I wasn’t a total dick. Any rich asshole could donate.

Jerry tapped his spindly fingers on the desk. “That…could work.”

Ray nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. “It better. Roman, you know I love ya, kid. But if you screw this up, you’re out. You’ve got one more chance.”

The tension in the room lifted, but only slightly. I let out a breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I didn’t know where I had pulled that idea from, but it was a damn good save, and I could tell Rachel was thinking the same thing.

“Alright,” Jerry said, standing up. “We’ll set up the details. Rachel, you’re in charge of making sure this goes smoothly. Roman, don’t screw this up.”

I nodded, standing up as well. “Got it.”

Rachel gave a quick nod too, and we made our way out of the office together. Once the door shut behind us, I let out a low whistle.

“Close one,” I said, glancing over at her. “So, are we really doing this hospital thing or what?”

Rachel rolled her eyes, but there was a bit of a smile playing at the edge of her lips. “Of course we are, you doofus. It’s not like just making up the story was enough to save you.”

“Worth a shot,” I smirked.

“Really, though,” Rachel pivoted, pulling me into a more secluded hallway area where we were less likely to be interrupted by other employees or patrons of the ice center. “That was…a really good idea, Roman. Thanks for saving both of our asses.”

“Hey, we both know that yours, at least, is a damn good ass. More than worth saving.” I winked at her, and she laughed, blushing in that sweet way I’d seen her do all over when we’d had sex. Just the thought of that had my body zinging to life, looking forward to another round with her. She seemed in a light enough mood today that I might actually have a shot. “Speaking of your ass…” I started and trailed off, moving in close to her.

It wasn’t my best line, but I figured it would probably do the trick. I’d made her come enough times before that she had to be at least a little interested in a round two.

“Ha,” Rachel let out a short, breathy laugh, but she didn’t shake her head at me. She met my gaze with an intense surety that had me even more turned on. “Well, it’s been getting a fair bit of action lately.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said, so flippant about the fact that she was apparently sleeping with someone else. The thought almost pissed me off. Not that I’d ever been big on monogamy in the first place, but it felt unfair that she hadn’t at least kept me on the rotation. It felt like ages since we’d first had sex, and my hand had been getting far too much action in the meantime.

I didn’t stop to examine why masturbating to the thought of Rachel’s wet pussy was more appealing to me than finding someone else to get inside.

“Who’s the lucky bastard?” I asked Rachel, my voice low and calm even as my heart was thumping wildly in my ears. She grinned, slow and almost dangerous. She leaned in so I could feel her breath against my ear.

“You should ask your teammates.”

That…was not what I’d been expecting. And the plural in the sentence caught me off guard. “Wait. More than one?”

“Mm-hmm,” Rachel hummed, craning her neck a little to nuzzle into my ear. It was almost embarrassing how I shivered in response, but I was past the point of pretending not to be madly horny for this woman. “Wes and Sawyer make a pretty good team off the ice too. Play your cards right, and maybe you can even join them—unless you’d rather stay on the bench.”

With that delicious tidbit, Rachel walked away, giving me a luscious view of her slowly swinging hips in another fucking pencil skirt.

Oh, fuck. There was no getting around the truth of what she was telling me. If this was true—and I felt like it must be, not just because my horniest dreams demanded it, but because she wasn’t the type to bluff—Rachel had fucked Sawyer and Wes both. At the same time, no less. Why was it so goddamn hot to think of Rachel sleeping with two of my best friends at once? I could picture her now, moaning in ecstasy as one cock filled her pussy, another one entering her perfect lips and muffling any further sounds she might have made. A goddess.

My friends had some major explaining to do. But even more than I cared about getting all of the tea, I really needed to get in on the action.

Luckily, Rachel had just given me an open invitation.