Page 7

CHAPTER SIX

Kenzie

The kitchen radiates warmth.

I’m enveloped in the mouth-watering aroma of garlic, butter, and parmesan, so thick they seem to hang in the air. I lean casually against the cool, speckled countertop, observing the boys as they glide around in a seamless dance, each expertly executing his culinary task.

Ambrose, with a focused gaze, stirs the Alfredo sauce, its glossy surface bubbling gently as he meticulously folds in freshly grated parmesan.

The scent is divine, rich, and creamy, teasing my senses and causing my stomach to rumble with eager anticipation.

Braden, standing by the sink drains the pasta, sending billowing clouds of steam swirling around him and gently fogging the edges of the kitchen window.

With ease, he tosses the noodles in a drizzle of olive oil, shaking them in the colander with the precision of a seasoned chef.

Meanwhile, Reggie retrieves a loaf of garlic bread from the oven, its crust perfectly golden and crisp, releasing a buttery, herby aroma that mingles with the other scents.

Beside him, a fresh salad rests in a large bowl, its vibrant greens coated in a delicate sheen of homemade vinaigrette.

When we finally gather around the dining table, Reggie grins broadly and raises his glass in a toast. “This might be the first time we’ve actually eaten at this table,” he declares, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Braden chuckles, filling my glass with wine despite my half-hearted attempt to refuse. “Yeah, we usually just eat in front of the TV, and let’s be real, most of the time it’s takeout,” he admits with a wry smile.

I laugh, shaking my head as I twirl a forkful of pasta, savoring the moment.

The first bite is like a celebration—creamy, cheesy perfection, with noodles cooked to tender brilliance. The boys dive into their meals, exchanging playful jabs and laughter between mouthfuls.

“Holy hell, Ambrose,” I exclaim. “You could open a restaurant.”

Ambrose smirks, a playful glint in his eye. “I’ll stick to hockey,” he replies, his voice filled with easy confidence.

I had skipped my pain medication earlier, wanting to keep my mind sharp. I’m glad that I did so because, as the evening progresses, the boys continue to top up my wine glass.

The warm, soothing burn of the alcohol spreads through my limbs, leaving me feeling light and a touch reckless.

We laugh uproariously over absurd stories, Reggie sharing vivid tales from his childhood in the mist-covered hills of Scotland, his accent thickening with each anecdote.

Braden recounts an insane adventure from his backpacking days, vividly describing the moment he almost got lost in the towering, jagged peaks of the Andes, his eyes wide with the thrill of the memory.

Ambrose, meanwhile, mostly listens, rolling his eyes when the stories take a turn for the fantastical, though I catch the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk more than once.

“What do you like to do to pass the time, Kenzie?” Ambrose asks, his smoldering eyes flashing to me.

“I love reading,” I confess, my voice a touch too enthusiastic, emboldened by the wine swirling warmly in my veins. “Especially romance novels.”

Braden's eyebrow arch with curiosity. “Oh yeah? What kind of romance?”

I bite my lip, hesitating for a heartbeat before blurting out the truth. “The, uh…steamy kind.”

Reggie smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “The dirty ones, then?”

I groan, covering my flushed face with my hands. “God, you guys are the worst.”

Braden leans in closer, his green eyes shimmering with playful amusement. “You read about all these scandalous things, but I bet you’re not as wild as your books.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks. “I’m not. I mean, I’ve only been with a few people.”

I’m not sure why I admitted to this, but the moment the words escape, my eyes dart to Ambrose.

His jaw tenses slightly, and Braden and Reggie exchange a knowing glance, their expressions full of unspoken understanding.

“Ohh,” Braden teases with a grin. “I think there’s a story there.”

I shake my head rapidly, but an intense heat creeps over my face as if it’s on fire. "No, no story," I insist, hoping my voice sounds more confident than I feel.

Only me and Ambrose know this isn’t my first time in this house.

Braden smirks, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Right, sure. Just a completely innocent look between you and our dear Ambrose."

Ambrose rolls his eyes, a gesture of exasperation as he stabs his fork into his pasta with more force than necessary.

"Don’t start," he warns, though there's a hint of amusement in his voice.

Reggie leans in closer, his voice smooth and persuasive, like honey dripped over a promise. "Listen, boring is a state of mind, not a way of being. You say you love reading about wild things, but that doesn’t mean you can’t live them yourself."

Braden nods knowingly, swirling his wine in the glass before taking a sip. "Yeah, why fantasize when you could live it?"

My heart stutters, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. My pulse pounds so loudly in my ears that it drowns out the ambient noise around us.

"What are you saying?" I manage to ask, my curiosity piqued despite the nervous fluttering in my stomach.

Braden sets his glass down with a soft clink, his eyes twinkling with mischief and possibility. "That we could show you a really good time. Like in your books."

I gape at him, my mind struggling to process his words, short-circuiting under the weight of the implications. "You're…you're offering…"

Reggie grins, a playful yet reassuring smile that reaches his eyes, "We wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t like. Right, guys?"

Braden raises his hands in mock surrender, his expression one of feigned innocence. "Of course. We’re gentlemen."

Reggie gives me a slow, appraising once-over, amusement dancing across his features. "We’ve done this before, love. It wouldn’t be rough…unless you wanted it to be."

Ambrose groans, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "All right, cool it. You’re making her blush."

"No!" I blurt out, startling even myself with the force of my words. My voice is breathy, laced with an excitement I can’t quite comprehend, and my skin feels electrified.

Ambrose lifts an eyebrow, a curious tilt to his head. "No?"

I swallow hard, barely able to believe the words tumbling from my lips. "I mean…I want to try."

The rich, velvety wine has loosened my body, sending tingling sensations dancing at the edges of my nerves.

My head feels light as a feather, and my thoughts are bold and unrestrained.

Whether it's the alcohol coursing through my veins or the realization that I've spent my life cocooned in safety, for the first time, I crave the wild taste of freedom.

A hint of recklessness calls to me like a siren song.

I hear Ally’s playful voice echoing in my mind, her laughter ringing like chimes, teasing that embracing a harem lifestyle is the way to go.

A flutter of excitement stirs in my stomach. Could she be right?

Reggie, the boldest among them, rises with a languid grace, stretching his limbs like a cat basking in the sun.

A slow, confident smirk spreads across his freckled face, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, darling, are you ready to be a little less boring?” he teases.

I swallow hard. He extends his hand, and though I hesitate, the moment I place my hand in his, he doesn’t merely help me up; he sweeps me into his arms effortlessly, as if I weigh nothing at all.

“C’mon, lads ,” he calls over his shoulder, his Scottish accent rolling smoothly with a hint of teasing. “Unless you’re still hungry for something else.”

Braden grins, rising with a lazy stretch, his arms reaching behind his head like the wings of a great bird. “Nah, dessert sounds better,” he replies with a wink.

Ambrose hesitates for a moment, but the flicker of fire in his hazel eyes betrays his intrigue. He follows, unable to resist the pull of the moment.

I’m nestled against Reggie’s chest, my face buried in his warmth. He carries me toward his room.

My skin tingles with anticipation, flushed with a heat that steals my breath.

For once, I don’t want to overthink this.

I just want to surrender to the sensation, to feel without restraint.

Reggie gently sets me down on his bed, the soft sheets cool against my flushed skin. The room is dimly lit, casting everything in a warm, intimate glow.

My heart races as I look up at the three of them, towering over me with hungry eyes.

Braden kneels beside the bed, his fingers tracing my jawline. "Last chance to back out," he murmurs, his voice husky.

I shake my head, my breath catching in my throat. "I want this," I whisper.

Ambrose moves to the other side, his usual stoic expression replaced by something darker, more primal. He brushes a strand of hair from my face.

Reggie, standing at the foot of the bed, slowly begins to unbutton his shirt. "Remember, love," he says, his accent thick with desire, "you're in control. If anything feels too much, just say so."

I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from the expanse of steel-cut abs revealed as Reggie shrugs off his shirt.

My gaze travels over the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders, a small gasp escaping my lips.

Braden's hand slides down my neck, his thumb brushing over my collarbone, his green eyes dark with want, and his cologne smells so good as he leans in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

His mouth is hot and insistent, tasting of wine and desire. I melt into it, my good hand coming up to tangle in his hair.

As Braden kisses me breathless, I feel Ambrose's lips on my neck, trailing fire down to my shoulder. His perfect teeth graze my skin, eliciting a soft moan that's swallowed by Braden's kiss.

Reggie's hands slide up my legs as he settles between them.

"You're so beautiful," Ambrose murmurs against my skin, his voice low and rough. His familiar hands roam my body, exploring every curve with reverent touches.

Braden breaks the kiss, leaving me panting. He smirks, clearly pleased with my dazed expression. "Still think you're boring?"

I shake my head, unable to form words as Reggie's fingers dance along the inside of my thighs. My hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact despite my jeans being in the way.

"Patience, love," Reggie chuckles, his touch maddeningly light. "We've got all night."

Ambrose captures my lips next, his kiss slower but no less intense than Braden's. His tongue traces my lower lip before delving deeper, exploring my mouth with a thoroughness.

As he kisses me, I feel Braden's hands sliding up my sides, pushing my shirt higher until he slips it off.

I wriggle, trying to unbutton my jeans with one hand awkwardly.

“Let me help with that,” Reggie says to me. He unbuttons my jeans and tugs them off gently, then looks at me with a spark of mischief and desire glowing in his gaze.

His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, tugging gently.

I tear away from Ambrose's kiss long enough to nod, lifting my hips to help Reggie slide the lace down my legs. The cool air hits my heated skin.

Braden's hand cups my breast through the thin fabric of my bra, his thumb circling my nipple until it pebbles beneath his touch.

I arch into his hand, a soft moan escaping my lips. Ambrose swallows the sound, his kiss growing more urgent, more demanding.

Reggie's hands part my thighs, his breath hot against my inner leg. "So beautiful," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my knee.

I gasp frantically, beyond words at this point. Reggie's tongue traces a line up my inner thigh, teasing, building the anticipation until I'm squirming beneath him.

When he finally reaches my center, the first swipe of his tongue sends a jolt of pleasure through my entire body.

Braden breaks away from my breast, his hands moving to the straps of my bra. "Let's get this off, shall we?" he says with a wicked grin.

I sit up slightly, allowing him to take the bra off, leaving me bare before their hungry gazes.

Ambrose's eyes darken as they roam over my newly exposed skin. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my lower lip.

"You're stunning," he murmurs, before capturing my mouth in another searing kiss.

Reggie's tongue works magic between my thighs, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick flicks that have me gasping and writhing.

I clench the sheets as waves of pleasure crash over me.

Braden's mouth replaces his hand on my breast, his tongue swirling around my nipple before he sucks it between his lips.

The dual sensation of his mouth on my chest and Reggie's between my legs has me climbing higher and higher.

Ambrose breaks our kiss, trailing his lips down my neck. His hand cups my other breast, kneading gently as his thumb brushes over the sensitive peak.

"Let go," he murmurs against my skin. "We've got you."

With a cry, the deep humming finally sends me tumbling like shards from a broken glass. My back arches off the bed as intense pleasure courses through me.

Reggie doesn't let up, his tongue working me through over and over again.

The room spins as I come down from my high, my body trembling with aftershocks. Reggie places a gentle kiss on my inner thigh before moving up to capture my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue, a heady mix that makes me moan softly.

"That was just the beginning, love," he murmurs against my mouth, his accent thicker with arousal.

Braden's hands slide down my sides, coming to rest on my hips. "You okay?" he asks, his green eyes searching mine.

I nod, still breathless. "More than okay," I manage to say, my voice husky.

Ambrose brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle despite the fire in his eyes. "Tell us what you want," he says, his voice low and commanding.

The words tumble out before I can second-guess myself. "Guide me, here. This is the first time I’ve ever done this. I need you to teach me…” I say, my voice dropping off as I blush.

My timid request hangs in the air for a moment, the intensity in the room ratcheting up another notch.

The boys exchange heated glances, a silent communication passing between them

Reggie smiles, sliding his body between my legs, his stiff cock poised at my entrance. "Tell me what you want, love," he whispers, his accent thick with arousal, and I pant as I feel the head of his cock slide against my core, slicking against the folds of my body.

“You,” I murmur. “I want you inside of me, please.”

“More,” he says, coaxing me. “Tell them what you want them to do while I fuck you.”

My heart hammers in my chest.

I glance at Ambrose, whose eyes are on fire as he watches me.

Then I look at Braden, who has stripped down to his boxers and is stroking himself as he watches us.

They're all hard, all ready for me, and the power of it goes straight to my core.

“Both of you, one on each side.” Both of them round to the sides of me, their hard, throbbing dicks facing me as they both stroke them. Ambrose stands on the edge of the bed where my bandaged hand is. Braden kneels on the bed to my other side.

I take Ambrose into my mouth, feeling the hard warmth of him across my tongue. Braden’s cock goes into my free hand, stroking him back and forth.

“Excellent arrangement,” Reggie praises me, then slides slowly inside of me.

Reggie’s cock is so deep in me, I feel myself vibrating again, rising, the tension strumming like the plucking of a violin string.

I can’t help it when I feel myself finally give way, the ripcord pulling loose all of the tension that’s held within me.

He pulls out suddenly, smiling as he trades places with Braden.

“My turn,” Braden says quietly, kneeing my legs apart a little more. I watch him as he enters me, enjoying the way his eyes flutter shut with pleasure as he slides home.

Reggie’s wet dick goes straight into my open hand. I pump my hand up and down his length, falling into a cadence that matches Braden’s movements inside of me, gasping and keening with sensation.

All the while my head is turned to Ambrose who’s fucking my mouth slowly, deliberately. His cock thrusting into the back of my throat.

The orgasm that was already hovering from Reggie’s efforts, practically attacks me out of nowhere.

I let myself gush against Braden, a thrill fluttering in my chest as I feel myself completely let loose. Braden’s thumb falls to my clit, sending pangs of pleasure through me, peppering the finale of my pleasure.

“You’re doing so good,” Ambrose growls, removing his dick from my mouth and grabbing my hips and pulling me toward him.

I yelp with feverish excitement, and he leans down, kissing my mouth he was just fucking as he enters my pussy, my hand wrapping around the back of his neck for a moment before I return to the eager cocks at my sides.

Reggie moves slightly, resting the velvety head of his cock against my lips. Panting, I open wide, allowing access, moaning with pleasure as Ambrose stretches me wide, pounding into me.

“I’m going to come,” Reggie grinds out, and I nod eagerly.

Reggie release in my mouth and Braden follows right after him, painting my breasts with his cum.

“Come for us,” Ambrose tells me as he increases the tempo of his efforts, rocking against me so hard that our hip bones crash together.

“So close,” I gasp out, arching, seeking more.

“Let me help,” Braden offers, leaning forward and rubbing his fingers over my clit.

I fly apart with a scream, shaking, grabbing a hold of the men around me for purchase, gushing all over Ambrose as he growls with satisfaction.

As the orgasm starts to ebb away, I watch as Ambrose pulls out, coming across my belly and flopping down on the giant bed with us all.

I wake up tangled in a mass of limbs, my body blissfully warm beneath the cocoon of blankets.

The dim glow of a bedside lamp casts a soft, golden light across Reggie’s sprawling, custom-made bed; a testament to his proclivity for such scenarios.

The sheets lie in a chaotic disarray, our bodies entwined. I’m surrounded by the gentle rhythm of steady breathing.

Braden is curled up snugly against my back, his hand resting lightly over my waist, like a comforting weight.

Reggie’s arm, sturdy and reassuring, is tucked beneath my head, serving as a makeshift pillow. His hair is a wild tangle against the crumpled sheets.

On my other side, Ambrose is closer than I had anticipated, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his features softened and unguarded in sleep.

I should be happy.

Satisfied.

Instead, a dull ache throbs insistently in my hand, tethering me back to stark reality. My chest tightens as the gravity of my actions settles in, heavy and unavoidable.

These are the men I work with, ones I have only just begun to understand.

What if this changes everything? What if they start treating me differently?

And my family, what would they think if they ever knew?

The warmth blossoming in my chest begins to cool, gradually replaced by a creeping anxiety.

With a deliberate, careful motion, I extricate myself from the tangle of limbs, pulling the sheets up to cover their sleeping forms as I slide to the floor.

My clothes are strewn about, but I manage to gather them, dressing quickly and quietly in the dim light.

My throat tightens with unspoken fears. I need air. I need to think.

Without allowing myself another glance back, I slip out the door, stepping into the cool embrace of the night, seeking solace in its quiet vastness.

The air nips at my exposed skin as I stride briskly down the silent sidewalk. The city, once alive with the vibrant pulse of nightlife, now seems muted, the occasional distant laughter and the low rumble of passing cars the only remnants of its nocturnal energy.

I could have just called an Uber from their house, spared myself this walk, but I didn’t want them to wake and try to stop me.

So here I am, making my way to a local dive bar nestled a few blocks away.

The neon beer sign outside flickers erratically as I push open the heavy, creaking door and step inside. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and the greasy aroma of fried food, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the gentle clinking of glasses that fill the dimly lit space.

I perch on a worn stool at the bar, pulling out my phone, my fingers hesitating over the ride-share app.

The bartender, a woman in her early forties with tired, yet kind eyes and a warm, welcoming smile, approaches me as she wipes down the counter.

“What can I get you, hon?” she asks, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity and concern. Her eyes flick to my arm.

I shake my head lightly. “Just a Diet Coke. I’m waiting for a ride.”

She studies me for a brief moment before pouring the soda and sliding it across the counter with a gentle nudge. “You okay? You look…rattled.”

I manage a small, slightly forced laugh. “Just had a wild night.”

She smirks knowingly, a twinkle of understanding in her eyes. “I’ll say, your arm is all bandaged up. What’s that about?”

“Oh, yeah,” I groan. “I’m a veterinarian, had a run in with an angry macaw.”

“Sheesh,” she said, pouring my soda into a clean glass. “The rest of the night; was it good or bad?”

I pause, considering. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Fair enough,” she says. As she smiles and then turns to go help other patrons.

The cold liquid is a jolt to my senses as I take a sip.

Ten minutes pass, each second stretching more languidly than the last, until my phone finally buzzes.

I slide into the backseat of the Uber, my body heavy with exhaustion, my mind a tangled web of thoughts.

The driver remains silent, avoiding the usual small talk, which I find to be a relief.

As I gaze out the window the city glides past, streetlights casting fleeting glimmers across my reflection like a series of ghostly apparitions.

By the time we pull into the rink's parking lot, the place is eerily deserted. The massive building towers against the night sky, its form silhouetted in darkness, save for a few solitary security lights casting pools of dim illumination.

I step out of the car, the cold air biting at my skin, my breath forming wispy clouds that dissolve into the night. My Jeep sits alone in the lot, a solitary figure waiting like a silent sentinel, a haunting reminder of the tumultuous night I've endured.

As I unlock the door, I pause to glance at the back seat, the very spot where, just a week ago, Ambrose and I had devoured each other with a fervor that seemed insatiable.

Now, I've just spent the night with him and two of his teammates, an unexpected twist that has left my mind spinning.

My dreams are starting to come true. Maybe I’ll dream I’ll win the lottery next!

I exhale sharply, resting my forehead against the cool surface of the steering wheel for a moment.

What cryptic message is the universe trying to send me?

This was meant to be nothing more than a fleeting indulgence, a reckless, one-time escapade. Yet the warmth that blooms within my chest now, the way they gazed at me, the way their arms wrapped around me… it all feels far from meaningless.

Shaking my head to dispel the sexy thoughts, I start the engine and pull out of the lot.

My thoughts swirl around me, chasing me all the way home.