Page 24 of The Players Next Door

She looks at each of us and hesitates. "It's just...what we have, it's not normal. People won’t understand. And my job—" She swallows hard.

"You're worried about the backlash?" Cam's hand finds hers, his grip firm.

"Among other things." Holly's voice is a mere thread.

"Hey." I reach out, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy, right?"

"Right," she echoes, and there it is again, that tremor from before.

"But we're in this together," Cam squeezes her hand.

"Whatever happens, we deal with it as a team." My words are a promise. An anchor.

"A team," she whispers, and the worry in her expression seems to relax a little.

"As a team," we affirm together.

Her blue eyes meet mine, and something unspoken passes between us. Relief. Gratitude. Trust. It's a start. We've got her back, and that's what counts.

The warmth from Holly's skin calls to me, and I can't resist any longer. My fingers trail a line of fire down her arm, feeling the goosebumps that rise in their wake. "This is real," I murmur against her ear, my breath hot. "We want this, Holly. We're ready for whatever comes. It’s not going to be easy, and we’ll likely need to hide it from most of the people in our lives, but I don’t fucking care. Not if it lets me be with you."

She shivers. Her eyes catch mine, and there's a storm brewing in those deep blue depths—a storm of need, of fear, of longing.

"Jax…" Her voice cracks, and that’s all the permission I need.

"Let us show you," Cameron interjects, his voice like velvet smoothed over steel. He shifts, pulling Holly into his lap with an ease that speaks of his strength. She gasps, a sound swallowed by the room we've made our sanctuary.

"Cam," she whispers, but there’s no protest there, just surprise edged with desire.

"Shh." I lean forward, lips traveling over the length of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, the pulse throbbing beneath the surface. I'm drowning in the scent of her, the feel of her.

Cameron's hands are deft as they slip under her shirt, lifting the fabric over her head in one smooth motion. The sight of her, vulnerable and flushed, strikes something primitive inside me.

"Beautiful," Deacon says, his voice barely audible. His hands join the dance, fingers brushing against the clasp of her bra until it falls away.

I can't wait another second. My mouth finds her, drawing a nipple into the heat, hearing her sharp intake of breath, feeling her body arch into the twin sensations as Deacon mirrors my actions on her other side.

"Is this okay?" I whisper against her skin, even as my body screams for more.

"Yes," she breathes out, surrendering to the moment, to us.

"Good," I say, and I'm lost in the taste, the touch, the pure, unadulterated Holly.

Cameron's fingers move deftly, undoing the button of Holly's pants with a soft sound. I can't take my eyes off her. Everything else fades away. It's just us in this hotel room, our private world where nothing else matters but the here and now.

"Jax, help me," Deacon says, his voice low and urgent.

I snap back into action. Together, we slide the fabric down her legs, revealing more of Holly's skin inch by tantalizing inch. Her pants join the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor, a small testament to the urgency building between us.

"God, you're perfect," I murmur as I look at her, laid bare for us. The sight of her, so open and trusting, sends a jolt straight to my core.

Deacon gives me a nod, and I know what he wants me to do. I lower my head, the scent of her arousal filling my senses. It's intoxicating, a heady mix of need and Holly. I let out a groan that vibrates against her as I press my mouth to her, tasting her for the first time. She's sweet, she's heat, she's everything.

"Jaxon," Holly's voice is a breathy moan that urges me on.

"Relax, Hol," Cameron's voice is steady, grounding. "We've got you."

I glance up, and there's Cameron, watching me with a heated gaze as he holds Holly close. His large hands cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples in a rhythm that has her grinding back against him.

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