Page 9 of The Players Next Door

I close my eyes, trying to steady my racing pulse as the car finally pulls up in front of the apartment building. Cameron makes a turn and the car slides smoothly into the parking garage. The space is dimly lit, casting shadows that feel like they're hiding us away from the world.

The engine cuts off, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. It's the calm before the storm, the calm before I step into a night that could shatter everything I thought I knew about myself. It's here, surrounded by concrete and steel, that I find my voice.

"Guys, wait." The words come out stronger than I expected.

The movement in the car stills. Three pairs of eyes—hungry, intense—lock onto me.

"I want this," I say, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I do. But I mean it. This has to be our secret. They can't know. The team can't know."

"Of course, Holly," Jaxon says, his voice a soothing rumble. "Your brother doesn't have to know a thing. No one does."

"Nobody will hear about it from us," Cameron adds, his green eyes serious, reflecting the promise in his words.

"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart," Deacon reassures me, his hand finally stilling against me, but the heat of him lingers like a brand.

"Good." Relief washes over me in an icy wave, but it's quickly consumed by the fire they've stoked inside me. "Then let's not keep the night waiting."

We spill out of the car, the cold snap of the air barely registering with any of us. Jaxon leads the way, a predator on the prowl. Cameron follows, silent and watchful. Deacon's hand finds the small of my back, a steady pressure that urges me forward.

The elevator doors close with a hushed ding, and I'm trapped in this small, moving box with three men who make my heart race. Deacon's fingers trace the bare skin of my arm, sending shivers cascading down my spine. He runs his fingers over my pebbled nipples beneath my shirt and down to cup my soaked mound. I’m writhing in his arms like some wanton hussy and I don’t even care. His gray eyes are alight with mischief as he leans in, and whispers against my ear.

"Can't wait to see you come undone."

I swallow hard, the anticipation building like a crescendo. The elevator dings again, announcing our arrival. My legs feel like they're made of something lighter than air as we stride toward their apartment, my pulse drumming in my ears.

The door swings open and we step into the dimly lit space. It closes with a definitive click, and suddenly, those hungry eyes are all on me. Jaxon's gaze is intense, Cam's deep, Deacon's fiery.

"Are you ready for us, Holly?" Jaxon's voice is like velvet, dark and inviting.

I nod, words failing me. I’m so ready.

In perfect sync, they start peeling off their clothes. Jaxon's shirt hits the floor, revealing that chiseled chest I've fantasized about more times than I care to admit. Cameron's height seems even more imposing as he shrugs out of his jacket, muscles rippling. And Deacon—God, Deacon—his shirt clings to his torso before he discards it, exposing the lines of his inked flesh.

I can't tear my eyes away. They're each a masterpiece of masculinity, sculpted and gorgeous. I'm standing here, drinking them in, feeling the dampness between my thighs grow. Am I really doing this?

Fuck, yes.

"Like what you see?" Cameron's voice pulls me back, his green eyes burning with a heat that mirrors the blaze trapped beneath my skin.

"Very much," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper, but it's enough.

"Good." Jaxon's smile is dangerous, full of promise, as he steps closer. "Because we're just getting started, sweetheart."

Jaxon's grip is firm and electrifies me as he pulls me close. His lips crash against mine, hard and hungry. There's no gentleness, just raw need that mirrors the storm of desire inside me. I gasp into his mouth, and his tongue takes advantage, exploring, claiming.

"Let's get this off," Deacon murmurs, fingers deftly unbuttoning my blouse. It falls away, cool air kissing my heated skin. Cameron's hands are just as busy at the zipper of my skirt. It pools at my feet, leaving me bare except for the lace that barely covers what they all clearly want.

I'm sandwiched between them, Jaxon's mouth still devouring mine, Deacon's hands roaming over my hips, his breath hot against my belly as he dips lower. And then there's Cameron, his presence like a solid wall at my back, his lips tracing fire down my shoulder, igniting every nerve ending.

"Beautiful," Cameron breathes against my skin, and I shiver.

"Fuck, Holly...you're so wet," Deacon growls from below, and I can feel his smile against my inner thigh before his tongue flicks out. I jolt, a strangled cry escaping me at the first touch of his mouth where I'm the most sensitive.

"Deac, make her sing for us," Jaxon commands without breaking the kiss, his hand entangled in my hair holding me captive to his will.

"Trust me," Deacon replies, voice thick with lust. "She will."

Cameron's hands slide around to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that are already tight with anticipation.Jaxon's kiss turns even more possessive, if possible, an unspoken promise that this is only the beginning. And as Deacon's mouth works its magic, drawing a chorus of moans from deep within me, I know one thing for certain:

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