Page 64 of Hat Trick Daddies

Nick, never one to be left behind by his brother, ruts into me a few more times and shouts his release, pumping me full as he presses a sloppy kiss to my lips.

As we lay there, panting and trembling, I felt a sense of completeness I've never experienced before. I’m surrounded by the three of them, their presence a comfort, as we all adjust to the idea of the pleasure that we just shared, that we made together. The room is quiet now, save for our collective breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets as we adjust our positions.

I'm nestled between Brooks and Tyler, with Nick curled up at my feet. The warmth of their bodies envelops me, a cocoon of comfort and intimacy.

Brooks' arm is draped over my waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. Tyler's face is buried in my hair, his breath tickling my neck. Nick's hand rests on my ankle, a gentle, grounding touch.

As the haze of passion begins to clear, I'm struck by the enormity of what just happened. My heart swells with emotion—love, gratitude, and a touch of anxiety about what comes next.

"Are you okay?" Brooks murmurs, his voice soft and concerned.

I turn my head to meet his gaze, finding warmth and tenderness. “More than okay, I’m great. Are you okay?” I ask.

“More than okay,” he says, smiling.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tyler

I wakeup to the soft buzz of my phone against the nightstand.

Stretching, I grab it, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I unlock the screen. The group chat is blowing up, and I can’t help but grin as I scroll through the messages.

Nick’s message is first.

>> Last night? Wow. Just wow. Round two soon?

Brooks jumps in right after.

>> Not sure we can call it a round. Felt more like an entire tournament.

And then there’s Ally’s reply, coy but dripping with innuendo.

>> I think I’m still catching my breath, but…yeah, definitely, yes.

The smile on my face widens as I fire off a reply.

>> You guys started without me? Rude.

Ally’s typing bubbles pop up almost instantly.

>> Wouldn’t dream of leaving you out. Just setting the mood for when you woke up.

My heart races as I lean back into the pillows, reading the playful banter that follows. Nick fires off a teasing comment about stamina, Brooks chimes in with a suggestion to “revisitstrategy,” and Ally, jokes about needing an ice pack for her “aches”, telling us, “You guys gave me quite the thrashing” with a winky-smiley face.

I type back.

>> Guess I’ll need to limber up for next time. Can’t let you guys wear me out too fast.

The chat explodes with laughing emojis and winks, and I can’t help but feel like this crazy, wild thing we’ve got going is something special. Something I didn’t know I needed.

I roll out of bed and decide I better hit up the gym before I decide that staying in bed all day and texting sounds like way more fun.

When I get there, the gym smells like sweat. The rhythmic pounding of my feet against the treadmill blends with the steady hum of the machines around me.

My trainer, a wiry guy named Steve with the endurance of a marathon runner, claps his hands sharply, his voice cutting through the morning fog in my head.

“Let’s pick it up, Tyler! Ten more seconds at this pace, then we’re switching!”

---