Trouble : Boston Bolts Hockey

My best friend touched my dick, and I had the best orgasm of my life.

Those words flash through my mind on repeat while I watch him lick my cum from Melina’s cunt like he can’t get enough of our taste.

How I can sit here, palms pressed flat against my thighs, rather than storming over to the two of them for another round, is beyond me.

It’s probably shock.

Because another round of what?

What do I even want to happen? What does Cade want to happen?

I’ve never cared so much about what another person is thinking than I do in this moment.

There’s no lying about how good it felt to have his hand wrapped around me while I was buried inside Melina. Is it only a physical thing? That’s possible, right? How could I not enjoy being touched while I thrust into her warmth?

There was no pretending that he wasn’t the one touching me. That it wasn’t his fist, his fingers, him. I looked him right in the eye as he did it. He was testing me, I’m sure. Probably expecting me to pull back so he could gauge my boundaries. The problem is, I’m not sure a boundary exists when it comes to Cade.

I’ve never wanted another man. Never been turned on by the idea of another man’s hands. Lips. Tongue.

Yet I’m practically salivating over the way Cade’s tongue moves languidly over Melina.

It’s undeniable: I’m turned on.

Hard.

I unloaded inside her minutes ago, yet I’ve got a full-on chub just watching them.

And I have no idea what any of it fucking means.

Maybe it’s because I’m so comfortable with him.

My most trusted friend.

He’s a good-looking guy. Anyone with eyes would have a hard time disagreeing with that. But would they look as closely as I am right now? Would another straight man look at Cade and focus on the way his forearm flexes as he holds himself up? Would they be focusing on the way he’s stroking her pussy with his tongue? Or would they be solely focused on her?

Don’t get me wrong—she’s the fucking sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. She’s my obsession. I’m crazy about her.

And by the way she’s writhing, she’s about to come.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

I’m transfixed by the way her breasts swell and her nipples harden. By the way her thighs are stretched wide and she’s digging her feet into Cade’s sides as she screams through another orgasm.

Fuck. I shoot to my feet and stride to her side. With a hand over her mouth, I muffle her screams. Ignoring the man between her thighs, I lean down and whisper, “Shh, these sounds are only for us, sweetheart.”

“It’s so nice of you to come to the festival, Chief,” Carmella says in a singsong voice.

As if I had a choice in the matter. Hope Street is decked out with stalls upon stalls for this German market–inspired festival. Residents display their homemade goods up and down the street, hocking artwork, crocheted blankets and hats and mittens, spiked apple cider, and Bristol-themed clothes.

Carmella and her grandson’s wife Belle are selling homemade limoncello that they brew at the winery Belle co-owns. It’s incredible, but I don’t give it a second thought today. I’m too focused on finding the two people who left my office a half hour ago.

A phone call came in as we were all cleaning up, and—thank fuck—I had to stay behind while Cade and Melina headed out. I needed the time to myself to wrap my head around what the fuck we did and work through how I want to proceed.

I’ve yet to figure that out, because I don’t know what the fuck to make of my physical attraction to Cade.

It was probably the heat of the moment.

That thought makes my stomach twist. It doesn’t explain the thoughts that have plagued me every other time I’ve seen him since Melina moved into my home. Still, I’ll go with that. Now that we’re in town, dressed, and he’s not fucking the woman I’m obsessed with, I’m certain this feeling that I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I don’t touch him will go away.

It has to.

“They’re over there.” Carmella points, wearing a knowing smirk.

Fuck. It can’t be that obvious, can it?

“I’m here by myself.” I lift my chin and focus on Belle, patently avoiding looking in Cade and Melina’s direction. “Can you wrap one of those bottles up for me? I think my sister will love it.”

The raven-haired woman smiles, and I find myself noticing the exact color of her eyes for the first time. They’re a deep blue close to the shade of Cade’s, though his irises have an almost turquoise ring around the pupil that makes the blue lighten when he smiles.

I run my hand through my hair. Lighten when he smiles. Turquoise. What the hell is wrong with me?

In the thirty-plus years I’ve known Cade, I’ve never thought about his eye color. What the fuck has changed?

And do I want it to stop?

“Why don’t I wrap it up, and you can pick it up when you’re done with the festival? That way you don’t have to walk around with the bottle,” she suggests.

“Actually, that’d be great.” I pull out my wallet and pay, then head in the direction I pretended I had no intention of going.

But as I scan the crowd and don’t spot the two people who have me all tangled up inside, my irritation grows.

Did they go home?

Or head to dinner without me?

“Dec.” The voice has my heart leaping.

The way my stomach swoops in excitement when I lock eyes with Cade is embarrassing. And the fluttering in my chest is so intense, I rub at the space above my heart to ease it.

“Thought that was you,” Melina says as she releases Cade’s hand and slips her arms around my midsection. No hesitation. No consideration for what the people around us might think. She does what she wants, and though I don’t normally enjoy public displays of affection, I don’t exactly hate it when she squeezes me tighter and tilts her chin up, smile blazing, waiting for me to kiss her hello.

But I do hate the way I taste Cade on her lips. Not because the flavor is a turn-off, but because I can’t reach for him and do the same.

Fuck.

And when I look over her head and lock eyes with my best friend, the hungry expression on his face tells me that the feeling is not one-sided. The need I saw in his eyes as he watched Melina undress is now aimed at me.

Once again I don’t know what the fuck to make of any of it. But my dick sure knows how it feels. This is going to get uncomfortable quick if I don’t get my head in the game. So I pull my gaze from his and wrap my arm around Melina instead. Pointing at the limoncello stall, I say, “I was grabbing a gift for my sister. Cade, you should get a bottle for your mom. I bet she’d love the stuff.”

Beyond Cade, Carmella and Belle are surreptitiously watching. Dammit. What are they thinking? Are they judging? With a sharp breath in and back out, I push the intrusive thoughts away.

“She loves it,” Carmella says, not even trying to act like she wasn’t eavesdropping.

Cade grins and has Belle wrap up a bottle for him. “I’ll take it over tomorrow, along with the flowers Amelia set aside. Looks like I’m a shoo-in for favorite son.”

I snort. “You’re her only son.”

“Always good to put in the effort, though,” Carmella chimes in. “Now go on, you three. The night is young. Enjoy the festival.”

With Melina between us, we wander the street, stopping as she peruses the goods and makes a purchase at almost every stall. Conversation is easy between Cade and me as she chats with everyone she meets.

My body is finally beginning to relax, and I’m realizing that things haven’t changed that much since before I knew what Cade’s touch felt like. Maybe it really is just a sexual thing. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that. He’s my best friend, and we enjoyed sharing a woman. Sure, it may be hot when the three of us are together and body parts brush against one another, but⁠—

“I’m officially starving,” Melina says, pointing at Thames. The sky has gone from burgundy to black, and the bar on the water looks cozy, all aglow the way it is. The stars twinkle above it, and beyond, the dark water appears almost angry as it thrashes against the docks.

Cade wraps one arm around Melina’s waist and kisses her neck. His other arm is loaded down with her purchases. “Our girl did get quite the workout this afternoon.”

Our girl.

My heart thumps wildly against my sternum. I love the sound of it. Love the idea that she’s ours.

That the woman I’m obsessed with isn’t just his. She’s mine too.

Feeling bold, I step in close on her other side. “Eat up, sweetheart. You’ve got more work to do tonight.”

She inhales sharply, and all I can do is imagine that her nipples are poking against the green sweater beneath her winter jacket.

Melina wraps a hand around my neck, pulling me even closer, and kisses me. Her tongue is sweet from the cider she picked up at one of the booths, the flavor intoxicating. I moan against her, surprised by the easy affection.

My surprise turns into a strange heat I’ve never experienced when she turns, wraps her other arm around Cade’s neck and she repeats the move with him.

I watch on, studying the way he dips his tongue into her mouth, how he bites down on her bottom lip and gently tugs, like he’s relishing not only her taste, but mine.

“Come on, you two,” I grunt. “I’m not going to make it through dinner if we keep this up.”

Melina laughs against Cade’s mouth, and when she pulls away, they turn in unison, both smiling. They’re so similar in so many ways. Happy. Light.

Their smiles are enough to ease the constant weight pressing down on my shoulders.

I take off toward the restaurant. If my mind keeps running in this direction, I’ll be tempted to force them back to my house now, but we need sustenance first.

Thames is loud and crowded with townspeople seeking refuge from the chilly night. But when Hailey spots us, she motions to the hostess to set up a booth for us by the fireplace. Like all small towns, Bristol has its share of problems, but good service is not one of them. I hold a hand up to Hailey in thanks as we’re led toward the table. Halfway there, Cade splits off and disappears to the bathroom.

Melina slides into the booth, and I settle on the other side. “God, I love this place,” she says as she removes her jacket.

I roll my neck from one side to the other, working out a kink. “Don’t miss the city?”

She bites her lip. A nervous tic, I’ve come to realize.

What does she have to be nervous about now? Jason should no longer be an issue. And if he is, she’s got Cade and me to keep her safe.

“Not really,” she says, focusing on the table between us.

Cade reappears, and though I expect him to slip in on Melina’s other side so she’s between us in the round booth, he pushes into mine so I’m in the middle.

With a steady breath, I will myself to act normally. I’ve sat next to Cade in this bar plenty of times. Though I’ve never been so focused on the way his knee brushes up against mine as he spreads his legs wide and turns his body toward us. “You know, I’m pretty sure you’ve bought a gift from every person in this town,” he says over me, his focus entirely on her.

Her responding laugh is raspy, pulling my attention from Cade for a moment. As I’m watching her, he rests his arm on the back of the booth behind me.

“I’ve always loved Christmas,” Melina says. “I love watching people open gifts, and I love spoiling my family.” Her voice trails off at the end, and pain flashes across her face. “If I can’t spoil my family this Christmas, then at least I can support the shopkeepers here.”

I reach beneath the table and squeeze her knee, hoping the gesture is reassuring.

The server appears then, focus set on her order pad. “What can I get you to drink?”

When she looks up and scans us, her eyes widen, and I swear she takes a step back. Is she cataloging every point of contact? My hand on Melina’s knee, Cade’s arm around me, his knee touching mine. Or am I being paranoid? Can she even see anything but Cade’s arm slung casually over the back of the bench?

Either way, my cheeks flame, and I shift away from Cade a bit, spreading my knees wide so he can’t move any closer.

With a quirk of a brow at me, he orders his standard vodka tonic. Mel asks for a wine list, while I pull on the front of my shirt, suddenly feeling as though I can’t get enough air.

“You hot?” Cade murmurs, leaning in so close that his body heat only adds to the problem, his lips at my ear, his warm breath ghosting over my cheek.

Holding my breath, I peer over at the waitress. She’s watching me, pen still poised over her pad.

Behind her, a group of older men who hang out on the corner of Hope Street, drinking their coffees most mornings, are also staring.

As a bead of sweat trickles down my spine, I elbow Cade, forcing him to give me space, and order a beer on tap.

Melina takes her time picking out a wine, and while we wait, Cade’s gaze burns a hole in the side of my head.

The second the server is gone, he pounces. “Something wrong?”

Stomach sinking, I keep my expression neutral. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Melina watches on, seemingly having missed the interaction now causing this tension.

“You worried about what people will think of how close we’re sitting?”

I grind my teeth, a knot of dread sinking in my stomach. “Of course not.”

Cade’s chuckle lacks any kind of humor. “Worried they’ll think you’re dating the gay boy?”

“Oh my god,” Melina mutters, grabbing my thigh. “Tell him you don’t give a fuck what other people think.”

I sigh. She’s right—I don’t. But I am the local fire chief, and sitting this close to another person, regardless of gender, draws attention. That attention makes me itchy. And sitting between the two of them? The scrutiny is multiplied by ten. Doesn’t he feel any sort of way about that? People will judge her. Us.

“It’s fine.” Cade shoves out of the booth and points to the bar. “I’ll hang with Hailey. Let me know when you’re ready to go home.”

He doesn’t even give me a second to speak. To correct his ridiculous assertion that I give two fucks about his sexual orientation. When have I ever given him any inclination that I do? I’ve watched him flirt with both men and women for years. Witnessed him walk out of many bars with them. Heard the play-by-plays after the fact.

I never batted an eye.

He should know me well enough to know I’m not a bigot who would view him through a lens colored by his sexual orientation. He’s so much more than that. We all are.

I grind my teeth, shoulders tensing in annoyance.

“You have to go talk to him,” Melina says quietly, squeezing my thigh.

Tucking my chin to my chest, I blow out a breath. “I will.”

I’m not about to let his overreaction or my stupid inability to speak up quickly enough ruin what is obviously a good thing.

And I sure as fuck won’t let it screw up our friendship.

We’re both stubborn assholes most of the time, but for Cade, I’ll make an exception. As I’m sliding to the end of the booth, his loud laugh echoes through the entire space.

Hailey is leaning over the lacquered bar top, and Cade is angling in closer, with his mouth to her ear.

My stomach drops to the floor.

Is he fucking flirting with her?

Right in front of Melina?

What. The. Fuck?