Page 12 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

It doesn’t take long for Shane to hit me back. We’ve been best friends since college, and damn, I’m glad the left winger and I ended up on the same team after all these years.

Shane : On my way.

Andy replies a few seconds later.

Andy : Sure. Everything OK?

No. Not even close. But there’s no way I’m spelling this shit out over text.

David : Just need you in here. Shane’s coming too.

A few minutes later, Shane shows up, crunching on a green apple like he’s got all the time in the world. Down the hall, our right winger is closing in, a grim look already written all over his face .

“What’s going on?” Shane asks, eyeing Andy as he steps inside.

I don’t say anything yet, just step aside and wave them in. Only after the door clicks shut— Do Not Disturb sign already swinging from the handle—do I lift my phone and hold it out for them to see.

“Holy shit,” Shane blurts, hand going limp enough that his snack slips free. The apple, already half-eaten and uneven from all the bites, tumbles to the floor and rolls across the carpet, coming to a lazy stop a few feet away.

Andy says nothing. But the color drains from his tanned face, paling beneath that thick, dark beard. After a tense beat, he snatches the phone from my hand.

“What site is this?”

“EverybodysXXX.com,” I tell him.

Neither of them reacts to the name, which tells me everything I need to know. They’ve been on the site before.

“You didn’t record that,” Shane says, more of a statement rather than a question, before turning to Andy. “Tell me you didn’t, either.”

“No way, man. I wouldn’t do that.”

Yeah, I didn’t think so.

“So, who did?” I ask, words that have been clanging through me like an off-key chime.

The thing about this site is that it pays posters based on views—just micro amounts, like .001 per view. But with millions of views, that can add up to a decent payout. And since it’s porn, millions of views aren’t exactly out of the question.

“Could it be security cam footage?” Shane suggests. “A safety precaution that the last owner, or maybe some coaches, had taken to keep an eye on the staff?”

“What? You think one of those staff members found it and uploaded it for the cash?” I ask.

“Probably,” Andy speculates. “People have done a lot worse for money.”

He’s right. We’ve seen it all—extortion, doxxing, you name it.

One of the perks of playing in the NHL? A damn good paycheck. All three of us clear multiple millions a year. I mean, I got offered a million just as a rookie.

“Have either of you gotten any weird messages?” I ask, trying to steer us back on track. “Anyone trying to get something out of you?”

They both shake their heads. I should feel relieved. If the person who uploaded that video wasn’t trying to blackmail or shake us down, maybe they don’t even know who we are.

But someone will. That’s inevitable. Our jobs, especially mine, are too public for anonymity to last forever.

Then again, none of us took our masks off.

I didn’t even risk going down on Phoenix, since my mouth was covered.

But fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I lifted it just enough to suck on her pretty little toes, the ones strapped into heels so sexy they made her calves look long, sleek, and sculpted like a goddamn wet dream.

. A weakness of mine, every damn time. Even now, my dick twitches at the memory of how she tasted, sweet and a little wild.

So, maybe we’re safe. Maybe .

Still, it doesn’t sit right with me. That video is out there. That’s us, having sex with a woman who never agreed to being filmed. None of us did.

But contacting the site to take it down opens the door to a legal circus. The kind that shines a spotlight on the situation instead of killing the lights.

And if the truth ever reaches Ted? Game over. For all of us.

My team didn’t make the playoffs that year, and Shane had just wrapped up his run with the Michigan Blades, so when the Avs flew us out during the last stretch—right around when Sven Hinter announced it would be his last season—we had time to stick around. Explore the city, check out some houses.

One night, we decided to blow off some steam at a strip club. I made sure we picked one far from the arena, but as if by blind luck, Andy strolled in, too.

I was mid-lap dance at the time—a pretty young thing grinding her ass against me, music thumping all around us.

I was about to pay for a private room when Andy spotted us.

My hands were locked to the only place she allowed, gliding up her waist, and my dick was already rock-hard from the way she bounced on my lap .

My plans changed when we walked over.

“Cool, you’re here, too,” he said, grinning as he hurried over.

We sure as hell hadn’t expected that reaction, but we rolled with it. He was another one of us.

Instead of heading to the private rooms in the back for some quality time, we all ordered some flights of beer and a round of shots. Whether it was the tequila or the beer that loosened our tongues way too much, I’ll never know. But soon, the three of us were swapping our raunchiest stories.

“Ever been in a threesome?” Andy asked, and Shane and I exchanged a look.

Not only had we been in threesomes, but back in our Division One days in college, we’d blown right past a few lines—same hotel room, same girls, toys, props, no hesitation. I thought Shane might admit to that. Instead, he went for the throat.

“Shared women? Fuck yeah. Had a whole roster some nights. Couple of our buddies joined in, too.”

My brows shot up, even with the alcohol clouding my brain. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. Shane might be the quiet, reserved type in public, but get a few drinks in him, and he’s an open book… and a horny little bastard. Behind closed doors with a woman, he turns into an absolute savage.

“What? Seriously?” Andy asked, eyes wide with curiosity, and Shane didn’t even flinch.

Since he’d already let it slip, I nodded. “Seriously. ”

“Damn, I’ve always wanted to try that,” Andy admitted. “Is it as good as I think it is?”

“Better,” Shane said with a smirk.

When Andy told us he wanted in, we made it clear that this wasn’t the kind of thing you just jump into at some random bar, picking up drunk girls.

It had to be the right place, the right time.

So, when the Avs threw their championship party and we scored invites, freshly signed to the team, it felt like the perfect shot.

We just didn’t realize it would be to our detriment.

Now, what are we supposed to do about this damn video three years later?

“Can anyone tell it’s us?” Shane asks.

Andy chuckles, and I’d chalk it up to nerves if he weren’t one of the most laidback guys I know.

I’ve seen him outdrink every rookie at team parties, then turn around and give the best advice they could ask for on handling tricky blocks or flashy moves from rival teams—all in the same night. The guy doesn’t rattle easy.

“How are they gonna tell, huh?” Andy says, pointing at my screen. “We were covered up. What’s the average porn-watcher gonna recognize?”

He’s not wrong. Unless someone who’s already been with us has a freakish memory for moles, scars, or tattoos—and happens to get their porn from this site—we should be fine.

The odds of a random viewer piecing it together are virtually nonexistent.

Not zero… but close. It’s not like we’re out there banging a different woman every other Friday, either.

“Should we ask the site about taking it down?” Shane asks, but I immediately shake my head.

“That might draw more attention. We don’t need this thing backfiring in our faces.”

Shane clamps a hand on the back of his neck. “Bro, I feel like we need to get out in front of this, though. Control the narrative if you get my drift.”

Shane has always been the biggest worrywart I’ve ever known. And while I’m itching to call him paranoid, I can’t deny he’s got a point.

And Andy is still smiling, but part of me wants to wipe that grin right off his face.

“Man, you’re overreacting,” he says. Andy looks between Shane and me, still calm as hell. “Both of you are. There’s no problem unless we make it one.”

“So, what? We ignore this and see what happens?” I demand, my voice sharp.

Andy shrugs. “Yeah, basically.”

There’s a line between being chill and being too damn chill, and right now, I can’t decide if Andy’s crossing it. I don’t feel like either Shane or I are blowing this out of proportion.

“And if someone screenshots this and claims it’s us?” Shane challenges, his voice speeding up, anger creeping into his tone. “What then? ”

“Look, at first, I thought we could just let it slide, but now, I’m not so sure,” I admit, slipping into captain mode and trying to keep a handle on the situation.

“Nothing ever really disappears on the internet. That video’s not just going to fizzle out.

I’m leaning more toward Shane’s side. The real question is, what can we actually do about it that won’t come back to bite us in the ass? ”

We’re not out of the woods, and the knot in my stomach would agree. The reality is that video is only going to gain more views… fast. And no matter how low the chances are of someone using it against us, it doesn’t feel right having something like that floating around on the internet.

“Fuck, she was such a stunner. I still fucking think about her. Hell, I could still fucking feel her,” Shane mutters, his eyes glued to the screen.

I paused the video on a sight that could make any man weak: her mouth stretched around Shane’s cock while Andy pounded into her soaked pussy on the couch. She looked like fucking perfection. And now, my dick’s starting to rise.

Andy smirks like the cocky son of a bitch he is. “Hell of a memory, huh?”

Even Shane quirks his lips, clocking exactly what I’m doing. After adjusting my burgeoning erection, I flip them both the bird, snatch the phone from Shane, and chuck it onto the nearby table. I cross the plush hotel carpet and throw a hand toward the door .

“All right, guys. We need to get serious about this. Come up with a real plan, and sooner rather than later,” I say, voice firm.

They nod and head out without a fight, though I pretend I don’t hear Andy’s laugh, and once they’re gone, I snatch my phone back for one last look at the red-masked blonde.

Then I kill the site, clear the cookies for good measure, and plug the phone on the charger. Flipping through TV channels, I land on a baseball game, a sport I couldn’t give half a damn about compared to hockey. Letting it drone in the background, I strip down to my boxers and shut my eyes.

Our flight home is early tomorrow. But no matter what I do, my brain won’t shut the hell up.

Phoenix haunts me yet again.