Page 42 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

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 savingbothof 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…wasnotwhat 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 goodteam 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 Wesboth.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, Ireallyneeded to get in on the action.

Luckily, Rachel had just given me an open invitation.

22

RACHEL

It was the day of Roman’s hastily concocted PR plan, and I was scrambling a little to pull myself together. I grabbed a bagel from the counter as I balanced my phone between my ear and shoulder. I could hear my mom humming somewhere behind me, probably getting the tea ready for her own age-old morning routine. The kitchen was bright and cozy, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in small-town peace for hours—but I didn’t have hours. Roman was supposed to be here any minute.

“Is that all you’re having for breakfast, honey? Let me make you something,” Mom said, coming up behind me and sneaking a quick kiss on the side of my head.

“Sorry, Mom, but I can’t stay long,” I called over my shoulder, already moving toward the toaster. “Roman and I are heading to the children’s hospital this morning. PR stuff, you know.”

Mom peeked out from the pantry, a small smile on her lips. “Oh, that’s nice, Rach. You two are volunteering together? How sweet.”

I groaned inwardly. The way she said “you two” made it sound like this was some sort of date, not a professional obligation to save Roman’s job. “It’s not like that,” I said quickly, fumbling with the bagel as I shoved it in the toaster. “It’s just for the team. You know, rehab his image and all that.”

Just as I was about to take a bite of my hastily assembled breakfast, the kitchen door swung open and Michael strolled in, phone in hand and looking far too smug for someone who had just woken up.

“Roman? At a children’s hospital?” he snorted, grabbing a mug from the counter—coffee with plenty of cream and sugar that Mom had already prepared for him. “That guy’s idea of charity is letting someone else buy him drinks.”

“He’s really trying, Mike. He knows he messed up, and he’s serious about fixing things.”

Michael arched an eyebrow at me. “Since when did you become Roman’s personal hype-woman?”

I shot him a look. “Since he asked for help,andsince it’s literally my job now to make him look good. To make all of you look good.”

Mom, never one to let an awkward moment pass, stepped back into the kitchen, holding a tea towel. “Well, I thought Roman wassosweet when we had lunch with him in town the other day.”

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