One Wild Night With The Three Hockey Demi-Gods

Chapter 3

SLOANE

“Did you really think you could just walk back in here and pretend nothing happened?”

I stopped in the middle of the dark hallway. Jules didn't wait for my answer. He grabbed my wrist—his fingers warm and firm and pulled me into a small side office, shutting the door behind us with a click.

The room was dim, lit only by the streetlamps outside the frosted glass window. The low bass of the party downstairs was just a dull thud against the floorboards.

“Jules, let go,” I said, though my voice lacked any real edge.

“Seven years, Sloane,” he said softly, his grip loosening until his fingers were just resting over my pulse point. His thumb stroked the soft skin there, slow and steady. “Seven years, and you didn’t write back once.”

“You know why I couldn't!” I looked up at him, my throat tight. “You know what happened. You made a mistake, Jules. You walked away, and my father—”

“I know what your dad did,” Jules interrupted, stepping closer until there was no air left between us. His brown eyes were dark, heavy with regret and a deep, simmering hunger. “I know I ruined everything back then. I was a kid, Sloane. I was stupid. But I haven't spent a single day since then not thinking about you.”

“Jules—”

“Don't,” he whispered. He raised his free hand, his knuckles gently brushing down the side of my neck. “Don't push me away. Not tonight.”

Before I could breathe, he leaned down and covered my mouth with his.

It wasn't like Rhett’s restraint or Maddox’s wild, aggressive heat. Jules’s kiss was slow, sad, and desperate. It tasted like years of unspoken apologies, like aching nostalgia and raw, unshielded want. I let out a soft groan against his lips, my fingers tangling into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to me. He groaned back, his arms wrapping around my waist, lifting me until I was pressed against the edge of a wooden desk.

The seven years of distance between us shattered in an instant. His tongue slid against mine, deep and possessive, making my knees go weak. He pulled my body flush against his, his breath hitching as I pulled him closer.

“Sloane,” he rasped against my lips, sliding his hands down to my hips, squeezing firmly. “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I admitted, my heart slamming against my ribs. “I hated you, but I missed you.”

He kissed me harder then, a sharp, needy sound breaking from his throat as his hands slid up under the hem of my dress, his warm palms gripping my bare thighs. I gasped, arching into his touch, my body instantly slick and feverish for him.

The door to the office clicked open.

We snapped apart, but not far enough. Jules kept one hand resting on my hip, shielding half my body with his broad frame as he turned his head toward the door.

Rhett and Maddox stood in the threshold.

Neither of them said a word..

Rhett stood tall, his hands in his pockets, his gray eyes dark as he looked from Jules’s hand on my thigh up to my flushed face and bitten lips. Maddox was leaning against the doorframe, his jaw set hard, his bright blue eyes burning with a dangerous mix of jealousy and heat.

“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?” Maddox asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Get out, Keane,” Jules said, though his hand on my hip tightened slightly.

“Make me,” Maddox replied, stepping inside.

Rhett stepped in right behind him, closing the door softly behind them and clicking the lock into place.

“Rhett,” I whispered, my pulse racing as all three men filled the small room. “What are you doing?”

“We’re locking the door,” Rhett said softly, his deep voice carrying an authority that made my blood run hot. “No one comes up to this floor. No one sees.”

“This is crazy,” I breathed, looking between the three of them. “If my father—”

“Your father isn't here, Sloane,” Maddox said, closing the distance between us in three long strides. He reached out, taking my wrist from Jules’s grip and pulling me off the desk and right against his chest. His big hands cupped my face, tilting my head back. “Forget about him for one night.”

Maddox didn't ask. He captured my mouth in a bruising, hot kiss that made my toes curl. His body was a wall of muscle, radiating heat through his shirt. I wrapped my arms around his neck, sinking into the feel of him, my body completely giving in.

Behind me, I felt a hand rest on the small of my back. Rhett’s breath hit my ear.

“Mine next,” Rhett murmured, his deep voice vibrating right against my skin.

Maddox pulled back with a, ragged laugh, his eyes wild as he looked down at me. “She’s not yours, Cap.”

“She’s not anyone’s,” Jules said from my other side, his voice dark and breathless as he reached out, his warm fingers tracing down the bare skin of my arm, pulling me sideways toward him.

What followed was a slow, chaotic blur of heat, hands, and forbidden touch.

There were no rules left. No one claimed me alone, but none of them let me go for a single second.

Jules pulled my mouth back to his, kissing me with a soft, deep rhythm while Maddox’s hands slid down my spine, pulling my hips tightly against his front. I could feel the hard, thick ridge of Maddox’s arousal pressed against my stomach through my dress, making a low moan echo in the back of my throat.

Rhett stepped behind me, his broad hands gripping my hips to hold me steady while his lips pressed hot, deliberate kisses down the side of my exposed neck.

“You’re so soft, Sloane,” Rhett growled against my skin, his hands moving around to the front of my dress, cupping my breasts over the fabric. His thumbs rubbed small, firm circles over my aching n*****s until they hardened into tight knots under his touch.

“Rhett, please,” I whimpered, arching back against his broad chest.

“Please what?” Rhett whispered, his mouth moving up to my jaw line, pulling the sensitive skin of my neck between his teeth in a light bite that made a spike of pleasure shoot straight between my legs. “Tell me what you want.”

“All of you,” I confessed, completely out of my mind with need. “I want all of you.”

Maddox growled, grabbing my thighs and lifting me effortlessly onto the high edge of the desk. He stepped right between my legs, pressing his broad chest against mine as his hands pushed my dress all the way up to my waist. My legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, pulling his hardness tight against my soaked lace underwear.

“Look at me, Little Mercer,” Maddox demanded softly, his fingers digging into the meat of my thighs, opening me wider for him. He rubbed himself hard against my core through our clothes, making me gasp and throw my head back. “Tell me I’m not an i***t now.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he rocked his hips against mine, setting a punishing, delicious pace that had my skin burning.

Jules stepped in close, leaning over the desk next to us. He grabbed my face gently, pulling my attention to him, and kissed me deeply, drowning out my cries as Maddox ground his weight into me. Jules’s fingers slid down my neck, unbuttoning the top of my dress, pulling the fabric down to expose my lace bra. He slid his hand inside the cup, palming my bare breast, his thumb flicking over my peak until I was practically writhing on the wood.

“You belong right here,” Jules whispered against my lips, his breath hot and heavy. “With us. Nowhere else.”

Rhett stood beside the desk, watching us with dark eyes. He reached down, his large, warm hand sliding right under the hem of my dress, moving past Maddox’s grip. His fingers slid beneath the damp edge of my underwear, finding the swollen, sensitive center of me.

I froze, a gasp tearing from my throat as Rhett’s fingers made contact with my bare, wet p***y.

“Don't stop, Maddox,” Rhett commanded, his voice thick with restraint. “Keep moving.”

Maddox kept grinding his hips against mine, his blue eyes locked on my face, while Rhett’s slick fingers began to stroke me—slowly,, circling my hyper-sensitive c**t before sliding one long finger deep inside me.

“God, Rhett!” I cried out, my hands flying to grip Rhett’s forearm as he stretched me open, his thumb working a steady, unbearable pressure on the hot center above.

“So wet for us,” Rhett murmured, his gray eyes blazing as he stroked inside me, matching the rhythmic push of Maddox’s hips against my front. “So tight.”

Jules held my hand, his fingers laced tightly with mine, kissing my cheek, my jaw, my mouth, anchoring me as the pleasure built into a storm. I was surrounded by them—the scent of cedar, mint, and sweat; the weight of their bodies; the heat of three men who had spent years pretending they didn't want me, all touching me at once.

Rhett added a second finger, pushing deep, his thumb flicking faster over my c**t while Maddox picked up his pace, his heavy body driving against mine until the desk creaked under us.

“Come for us, Sloane,” Maddox rasped, his mouth coming back to mine, kissing me hard and dirty. “Do it. Right now.”

The tension inside me snapped.

A wave of intense, violent pleasure crashed over me, bowing my back off the desk. I screamed softly into Maddox’s mouth as my inner muscles clamped down hard around Rhett’s fingers, throbbing in intense, pulsing waves. Rhett held me through it, his fingers stroking steadily until the last shake left my legs, while Jules kissed the tears of overwhelming pleasure off my cheeks.

We stayed like that for long minutes, breathing hard, tangled together in the dim light of the room. No one moved to fix their clothes. No one said a word about tomorrow.

Then, the sound of a fist slamming against the front door downstairs shattered the quiet.

A loud, nervous voice called up from the front hallway, echoing up the stairs.

“Sloane? Are you up there? Your father’s driver is outside. He says Mr. Mercer wants you home. Now.”