Page 8 of The Players Next Door

I can feel their eyes on me, stripping me down to nothing but raw desire and curiosity. It's overwhelming, intoxicating. One part of me screams to run for the hills, to cling to the good girl image I've always had. But another part—a new, daring part—whispers seductively that I might just regret saying no more than I'd regret saying yes.

"Earthquakes, huh?" I say, trying to sound light-hearted even though my stomach is doing backflips.

"Multiple. Guaranteed," Jaxon says, stepping closer.

And suddenly, I realize that this isn't just about sex. It's about breaking free, shattering the mold I've been poured into all my life. These men—these incredibly sexy hockey players—are offering me a chance to redefine myself. To discover who Holly Hawthorne really is when she steps off the beaten path.

And I can’t pretend like I don’t want them. Desperately. Because I do. I haven’t stopped thinking about them since I met them. And, despite the mortifying start to our relationship, they seem to want me right back.

"Okay." The word slips out, quiet but certain. "One night."

Their grins are predatory but not frightening. There's excitement there, and something that feels a lot like victory. For them or for me, I'm not sure yet.

"On one condition," I add quickly. "This stays a secret. My brother can never know. The team can never know."

"Cross our hearts," Deacon promises, drawing an X over his chest.

"Hope to die," Cameron chimes in, dead serious despite the playful glint in his eyes.

"Stick a hockey stick in my eye," Jaxon finishes, and we all crack up.

The tension breaks, but the anticipation in the room builds into something tangible. I'm about to step into uncharted territory. I should be scared, but I'm mostly feeling exhilarated. Maybe this will change everything. Maybe it'll change nothing at all.

But one thing's for certain—tonight, Holly Hawthorne is playing a whole new game.

Cameron takes my hand, and I can’t help but think that no matter how this ends, it’s going to be one hell of a ride. And for one reckless, exhilarating night, we're willing to risk the fall.

Heat crawls up my neck, flushing my cheeks as Jaxon's car eats up the distance to our apartment building. I'm sandwiched in the back, Deacon's presence like a live wire beside me. The city lights blur past us. His touch makes me feel like my skin is on fire, and the chilly night air does little to soothe the ache tingling through my nerve endings.

"God, Holly," Deacon murmurs loud enough for the boys up front to hear. His fingers dance over my skin, bold and unapologetic.

My breath hitches, caught between embarrassment and raw need. In the rearview mirror, Jaxon's eyes meet mine. They're dark and heavy with promise. Cameron gives nothing away, but his jaw is tight, hands gripping the steering wheel like he's holding onto control by a thread.

Deacon's lips trace a path from my jawline to the sensitive area behind my ear. He presses a gentle kiss there, his stubble tickling my skin and sending shivers down my spine. I bite my lip to suppress the moan that threatens to escape, not wanting to give away how much his touch affects me.

Deacon leans back but keeps his hand lingering tantalizingly close to my thigh, his gaze intense. "Is this okay?" Deacon whispers against my ear, his breath hot. He doesn't wait for my answer before pressing closer, his hand moving in slow, deliberate circles that draw a moan from deep within me.

His fingertips trace a tingling path up my stomach, slipping under the hem of my shirt until his hand rests firmly on my breast. His fingers squeeze gently, sending shivers through my body as I melt into his touch.

"More than okay," I manage to gasp out. My body is betraying every doubt with its eagerness, desire pooling low in my belly.

He presses his lips against mine, his gaze locking onto mine as his fingers fumble with the button on my pants and slides the zipper down. His hand slips beneath my lace panties, sending a shiver through my body.

"You're so wet for us."

Deacon's words send a jolt of electricity through me, my body responding to his touch in ways I never thought possible. The heat between my legs is real, a testament to how much I want them, how much I need their touch.

“Please.”

“Fuck,” Jaxon curses in the front seat, his eyes locked on mine in the rearview.

Deacon thrusts his fingers inside me, and I cry out, my hips bucking against his hand. The pleasure is intense, unbearable, but I want more. I need more. I want to feel them all.

He adds a second finger, his thumb circling my throbbing clit. It feels so fucking good. I’m making noises that should embarrass me beyond belief, but I’m beyond caring. A series of curses come from the front seat, but I don’t have the ability to open my eyes and see who.

I’m climbing. The pressure is spreading until I can’t take it anymore.

“Come for us, Holly,” Cameron growls, and I can’t hold back anymore. I come with a loud cry, my inner walls clenching on Deacon’s fingers. Fuck, I wish it was something else.

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