Page 121 of My Brother's Teammates

Charlotte

What is it about a man in a suit that makes him a ten with no ‘but’?

That popular “He’s a ten… but…” where you’re supposed to insert his flaws after the ‘but’ doesn’t apply here, because the three suit-clad hockey players standing in front of me? Yeah, they have no ‘but’.

Unless you’re talking butts. In which case, my boys have the best hockey bubble butts in the NHL.

Bar none.

And that’s a fact.

I’m staring.

I’m staring, and I can’t help it, because they were staring at me first. There’s a lot of staring, and lip licking, and eyeing me up and down like I’m the only glass of water in the desert for miles and they’ve been stranded under the blazing sun for days.

The more we stare, the more obvious it becomes that if I don’t get them the fuck out of here, and fast, they’re going to make a very big scene.

“A-a—” I clear my throat because apparently the desert metaphor applies to me now, too. I’m parched. “Aren’t y’all supposed to go to the bar or something tonight?”

My nipples tighten under their appraisal. Any of them by themselves looking at me like… that… would set my panties alight. But all three? I think the fire department needs to go higher than a five-alarm fire for the heat building inside my body.

If they say they have to go hang out with the team, I might cry. Cry and then run to the bathroom to relieve some of the pressure mounting in my undies, because God knows I won’t be able to last the evening without getting off.

As though he can read my mind, Mateo tips his head. “What’s the matter, Red?”

Jace is scowling, but it’s not an angry scowl, more of a ‘can we hurry this the fuck along?’ scowl.

My face heats as I glance behind me. “I’d just like a little more privacy than we have right now.” There. That feels like a diplomatic way of saying please take me home and rail me because I miss being dicked down by the three of you.

Mateo’s brow twitches. “Privacy? For what?” His grin comes with a glint in his eye that tells me he doesn’t need me to tell him the answer. He knows. They all fucking know.

I clear my throat, shifting my weight from side to side. When Roman’s face breaks into a wide, knowing smile, my body temp rises another couple of degrees.

Well, two can play at that game. Or, rather, four, since the three of them have similar hungry, heated gazes fixed on me. I shrug, willing my racing heart to calm the fuck down. “Oh, y’know. I thought maybe we could have some mozzarella sticks or something.”

Roman’s eyes light up. “I could go for some mozzarella sticks.” He takes a step toward me, which seems to be all Mateo needs to burst into movement. He picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder like he’s lifting a bag of flour, and starts walking.

“Teo, put me down.” I flutter my legs, giggling as he smacks my butt. “Teo, I can walk.”

“You could, but you were busy talking about fried cheese, so I figured I’d help you along.”

I don’t know how long I dangle upside down over his shoulder, but when he stands me right-side-up, I sway as the blood rushes back to the rest of my body.

“Whoa, I got you, Red.”

Mateo’s car is parked in front of me, and Roman steps forward to open the door. He bows as he sweeps his arm. “Your chariot awaits.”

Mateo snorts. “Weird thing to call our dicks, but sure.” He winks at me, waiting for me to hop in before he races around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

No one sits shotgun with him. In the back seat, Jace is on my right and Roman is on my left. The doors are barely closed when Roman and Jace snap into action as Mateo holds my stare in the rearview with a wolfish grin on his face.

Jace fists my hair, jerking me toward him for a deep kiss while Roman peppers the side of my neck with kisses, his hand sweeping up the inside of my thigh.

Fuck, I’ve missed them.

The way they just take me without hesitation is enough to make me breathless, like I belong to them. They don’t need to tell me they’ve missed me. I can feel it in the urgency in Jace’s kiss when his tongue whips against mine, and when Roman squeezes my pussy through my clothes, a guttural sound catches at the back of my throat.

“Did you miss us, Red?” Mateo’s molten stare flicks to the mirror again as he pulls out of the parking lot and into traffic.

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