Page 23 of Double Pucked

“Whoa what?”

He doesn’t look at me though. He looks at Chase, and a sliver of a smile forms. “The way I see it, this is one of those logic problems with a very easy answer, Weston.”

Chase trades a smile of his own. “What do you know? I was thinking the same thing, Samuels.”

What are they talking about? I look to one, then the other, trying to read them.

Chase’s grin widens as he mirrors me now, sliding a hand down my thigh, making my skin hotter. I hold my breath, daring to let dirty hope rise again. “Sharing wouldn’t break that pact, would it, Samuels?”

Their friendship is so important that they prioritize it with a pact. That’s admirable, and sexy too.

“But sharing’s okay?” I ask, on the edge of my seat.

“The way I see it, sharing is caring,” Ryker says, and I go up in flames.

“I mean, you’d definitely becomingbetween us,” Chase says, his voice loaded with heat.

“You good with that, Trina?” Ryker asks, brushing his fingers down my arm, to my wrist, over the top of my palm.

“I’ve never done anything like this before, but I’m very, very good with it,” I say breathily.

What are they doing to me? I feel like I’m vibrating. I’m a tuning fork between them. I wait for them to make the next move.

And they do.

Right here in the booth, Chase leans in and dusts a kiss to my hair. Ryker brushes his beard across my cheek.

“Come between us,” Chase says, all silky smooth.

“Very, very soon,” Ryker adds, in that gravelly tone.

I’m melting by the time they pay the bill, and so ready to have an everything bagel.

9

THE SHARING LOOPHOLE

Ryker

There are pacts and then there are provisos. Loopholes, if you will. This sharing loophole is the best motherfucking proviso of all time.

As Trina hangs back to text her friend, Chase and I pay the bill at the counter. No need to beat around the bush, so while I’m waiting for the attendant to return with my credit card, I pull Chase aside to ask the blunt question. “Since she’s never done this before, you got an idea of how you want this to go?”

Even though we’re open in the post-Abby era about who we’re seeing, we’ve never done a chapter-and-verse rundown of our past experiences, nor do I want to. That shit is personal. He hasn’t needed to know I’ve had a few three-ways. I’ve always been the third party though—the guy invited into an existing couple for one night, usually to blow a woman’s mind for her birthday or something. Worked for me since they didn’t involve entanglements.

And in those cases, I took the cues from the two of them, since they’d often have mapped out how they wanted me to play with her.

That worked for me too. I don’t want to be the center of attention—not before or after a hockey game, and not in the bedroom either. But I do want the woman I’m with to feel spectacular.

“I’m thinking,” Chase answers, then he’s quiet for a minute, staring off into the distance. Even though we don’t play on the same team now, we have in the past. That’s the look he gets in his eyes before he takes the lead on the ice or in the locker room.

After he blows out a breath, he turns back to me, confident, certain. “I have a few ideas about how this can play out, depending on what she wants. Overall, the way I see it in my head, it’s gotta be like scoring in hockey. Sometimes you get the assist, and sometimes you score the goal. We’ll just trade off.”

“And blow her brains out for the win,” I say with a decisive nod.

“Twice.”

I scoff. “Don’t set the bar so low, Weston. She needs more Os than there are dudes.”

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