Page 234 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

“Get Ollie,” Penn orders. He takes my hand and practically drags me to the exit. People know who he is, especially since the club is full of FSU students and fans that traveled to the game. I keep my drink in my hand, managing a sip when Penn gets held up by some guy wanting to shake his hand.

Which he does because you never know if there’s professional representation. Imagine if he snubbed some guy in a club, only to find out they worked for the Colorado Titans?

Oliver and Carter meet us at the door.

As a unit, we head back to the hotel. We all get off on the same floor, but Carter stops at one door, while Oliver and Penn continue down.

“Where…?”

Carter glance over his shoulder and winks at me. A moment later, we’re in the room and he’s unlocking another. He opens it, revealing Penn.

My mouth drops. “You got us adjoining rooms?”

“You going to finish your drink, princess?” Penn asks, stepping through.

My gaze drops. I forgot I was holding it, which leaves me feeling a little guilty about stealing a glass from the club. I take a sip, then another.

“Hey, mi nena.” Oliver draws my attention. He’s already shed his shirt, his muscles gleaming in the low light. “Come here.”

I go. He touches under my chin, tipping my head back, and leans down. My eyes flutter shut, just his fingers on my skin enough to undo me.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he says softly.

“You should solve that problem, then.”

One of the others takes the glass from my hand. Oliver touches my waist, his fingers inching under the jersey. He lifts the fabric up, along with the shirt I wore under it, and pulls it off me. He drops it to the floor, his expression intensifying. My chest rises and falls, anticipation zipping through me.

I lick my lips, suddenly filled with the desire to taste him. I drop to my knees, my hands going to his pants. He makes a vague noise of protest, but then his cock is free, stiffening to point at me, and I take him in my mouth.

“Fuck,” Carter groans. “That’s hot.”

Penn murmurs something too quiet to hear.

I look up at Oliver, my tongue stroking the underside of his shaft. His fingers slide into my hair. His expression is dark, his lips parted. He moves his hips a little, sliding deeper into my mouth. The tip of his cock hits the back of my throat.

I work him until he withdraws, stepping away. Penn and Carter lift me back to my feet. One unclips my bra, the other pulls my pants down. It’s hard to keep track of who’s touching where, until Oliver redirects my attention. His hand comes around the back of my neck, and he kisses me fast.

A finger slides inside me.

I groan into Oliver’s mouth. His tongue strokes mine, the kiss—and other touches—burning me from the inside out.

We haven’t all been together like this…

Honestly, it seemed like something I wasn’t sure anyone would be cool with. But we’re rolling with it now, and when I break away from Oliver’s lips, Penn is right there, pulling my head to the side to have his turn.

“On the bed,” Carter orders.

He slaps my ass, and I jump. I smirk at him, tossing my hair over my shoulder. The alcohol has lowered my reservations enough to even wink in the face of my sudden nerves.

I crawl on the bed and twist around, leaning against the row of pillows at the headboard.

My three guys—that doesn’t get old—are all watching me with hungry expressions.

Good.

“Well?” I question. “How are we?—”

“I’ll watch. For now.” Carter moves to the second bed and takes a seat.