Page 139 of Triple Play
CELEBRATING TOGETHER
Elise
We barely make it through the front door.
Grant has me pinned against the wall before Wyatt finishes locking it. His mouth is on mine, hands everywhere, still riding the high of winning.
“Bedroom,” Jordie manages. “We should—bedroom—”
We don’t make it to the bedroom.
We make it to the couch.
Clothes come off in a blur. Grant’s hands are shaking—adrenaline, desire, or both—as he pulls my jersey over my head.
“I love this,” he says, looking at the numbers. “Love that you wore all of us.”
“I’m all of yours.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Wyatt’s behind me, hands on my hips, mouth on my neck. “Been thinking about this all game.”
“During the game?” My voice is breathless.
“Every time I saw you in the stands wearing us.” His teeth graze my skin. “Drove me insane.”
Jordie’s already down to his boxer briefs, palming himself. “We gonna talk or—”
“Both,” Grant says. He’s pulling me onto his lap. “We’re gonna do both.”
What follows is victory and celebration and love all tangled together.
Grant inside me, Wyatt’s hands steadying my hips, Jordie’s mouth on my breast. The three of them work together like they do on the ice—passing me between them, each knowing exactly what the others are doing.
“So perfect,” Grant says. “You’re so perfect for us.”
Wyatt praises every sound I make. Jordie narrates like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
It’s overwhelming and intense, and when I finally come—Grant buried deep, Wyatt’s fingers on my clit, Jordie’s voice in my ear—it’s all three of them that put me there.
Afterward, we’re boneless. Sweaty. Satisfied.
Grant’s still inside me. Wyatt’s wrapped around us both. Jordie’s got his face buried in my hair.
“That was—” I can’t finish the sentence.
“Championship-worthy?” Jordie suggests.
“Shut up.”
He’s grinning against my shoulder. “Make me.”
So I do. I kiss him until he’s making those needy sounds that mean he’s ready for round two.
Which turns into round three.
And round four.
