Trouble : Boston Bolts Hockey

Declan stares at the phone, brows furrowed in intense scrutiny. The expression isn’t all that different from the one he usually wears when looking at a device. He hates phones. That much is clear. But with a heavy sigh, he takes it from my hand, and then, with a defeated huff, he turns his gaze to me again. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Hope does a jig through my veins. Holy shit. He isn’t saying no. He could simply play things off and insist on showing me how to tie knots. But if his trepidation is any indication, he understood my meaning completely when I asked him to show me, and now he’s considering how to ask Cade whether it’s okay that he fucks me.

Maybe I should feel bad about initiating this without talking to Cade first, but even though we haven’t known each other long, I’m certain he won’t be upset by it. In fact, I think he’ll be intrigued. Especially if Declan is the one asking. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cade wants this even more than I do.

And that’s saying a lot, because I really, really want this.

There’s a ruggedness to Declan right now, an almost dangerous quality. His olive skin tone tinged in soot, his scruff somehow wilder, his dark hair tousled, the ridges on his hands dark. I want to watch the soot and ash disappear down the drain as he stands beneath his shower head. I want him to put me on the counter and face me. And I want to see his cock jut out as he strokes himself.

My toes curl just thinking about it.

I don’t want it to be a onetime thing. I want to be the woman he comes home to after every fire.

Want him to lay all his burdens at my feet.

I want to be the person he trusts and fucks and loves. I can already tell that if he lets me in, he’d easily become mine.

The comfort I feel in his presence, the ease that washes over me when I’m even in his vicinity, isn’t a trauma response. I’m not latching on to the person who protected me. No, this desire is so much more than that.

But he’s still figuring out what this all means. He doesn’t know how Cade could have me and he could too. And he doesn’t understand what’s so perfectly clear to me. That these two men fit, with me and with each other. And none of us will be satisfied until we take this next step.

“Tell him exactly what you told me.”

He scowls.

“Not all of it. I just mean about the rope tying. And how it helps. If you want, I can tell him about my freak-out and how you’re trying to help me.”

He shakes his head. “No.” With a heavy breath, he studies the phone again. “I should do this.”

Yes. Yes, he really should. And I need to hear what he’ll say. Need to know what he’s asking for.

As expected, Declan doesn’t text Cade. He would never use such an impersonal source of communication to have this conversation. No, he pulls up Cade’s number and taps Call without another second of hesitation. It rings twice before Cade picks up.

“Hey, Trouble. We just finished practice. Did Dec agree to dinner tomorrow night, or is he still being grumpy?”

Declan scowls. “No, I’m not being grumpy, although you are right about one thing—your girl is trouble.” He glances up at me, and his scowl is replaced by something else.

His face softens. His eyes heat.

But at Cade’s laughter, he swallows audibly, and his expression goes carefully blank.

“Well, hello, Dec. Glad to see Mel convinced you to hang out.”Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Declan clears his throat. “Not so sure you’ll still feel that way after I tell you why I’m calling.”

Tell, not ask. I love that.

“Oh yeah? Mel causing more trouble?” Cade teases.

Declan cocks a brow and holds my gaze. “So much fucking trouble.” It’s said with such heat, such grit, that my thighs clench of their own accord.

The jarring sound signaling a FaceTime request startles us both. I jump, and Declan grunts. His signature scowl returns as he eyes the device. Like he can’t decide whether he wants to tap Accept. Despite how badly I want him to do this, to have control over this himself, I’m happy to give him a little push. I slide the bar, accepting the request, and then Cade’s smile fills the screen.

I peer down at him, my face appearing upside down in the small window in the bottom left corner, my forehead kissing Declan’s. Declan himself is still wearing a menacing look of surprise.

I give myself a second to appreciate the three of us on the screen. How good we look together. Cade’s blond hair, bright blue eyes, and big smile. My dark hair, vibrant green eyes, and playful expression. Declan’s dark gruffness. The beautiful sight makes butterflies flutter in my belly.

Cade coughs out a laugh. “Not gonna lie. With the way Dec was talking, I thought you’d be naked right now.”

Declan grinds down on his molars. “And yet you’re smiling.”

I catch my lip between my teeth, but there’s no fighting my massive grin.

Cade’s eyes dance. He’s just as entertained by Declan’s surliness as I am. “A guy can dream, right?”

When Declan is quiet for a long moment, the humor dissipates, and tension thickens the air. His expression has turned more apprehensive than anything. Like he’s been left tongue-tied by Cade’s easy admission. This isn’t hard for Cade. Though likely not because of the long-term implications that have run through my mind, but because sex isn’t a big deal for him.

In contrast, it clearly is for Declan. And after his confession earlier, I understand why.

Compassion has me gently taking the phone from Declan and settling in his lap. As if his hands know what his mind hasn’t quite figured out, one grips my thigh and holds me in place.

“Look what Declan just showed me.” I pick the rope up off the desk and hold it in front of me.

Cade’s pupils blow wide, making my stomach swoop. Good. He’s already caught on to where I’m trying to go with this.

Quickly, though, he affects an impassive expression and eyes his friend. “And what do you do with that rope, Dec?”

From where I’m sitting, I have to study Declan’s image on the phone screen for clues, though the way his body goes rigid beneath mine is much more telling. “I tie knots.”

Cade’s lip twitches. “Feel like expounding on that?”

“No.”

Though a laugh escapes me, Cade keeps his cool and only offers Declan a shrug. “Okay.”

Annoyance flashes through me. It’s like pulling teeth. “Not okay,” I say, spinning so I’m facing Declan.

When he gives me his full attention, our mouths are mere inches from one another, and the inclination to lean in and kiss him hits me like a wrecking ball.

His eyes drop to my lips, signaling that he’s thinking the same thing.

We suck in a breath at the same moment, as if the realization has hit synchronously, and not just for the two of us, but Cade too. I turn to face him, hoping to find that he’s just as turned on by this as I am. The blatant longing in his eyes confirms it, so with a relieved sigh, I turn back to Declan.

“Tell him what you want to do to me.”

As the words hang between us, Declan pokes the tip of his tongue out and rolls it against his bottom lip. Back and forth, back and forth. Then, with a thick swallow, he turns his attention to Cade. “I’d like to tie her up.”

Cade’s eyes flare, and instantly, Declan backtracks.

“For therapy purposes,” he sputters. “To help her.”

I can’t help but drop my head back and roll my eyes. That is so not why he wants to, but if he needs to tell himself it is, then I suppose I’ll let that slide. This time.

“You going to do it right there at the station?” Cade asks, ignoring Declan’s justification altogether.

The man holding me close scowls. “No. I need to shower, and I’d never—” His mouth forms a thin line as he chooses his words. “Melina deserves privacy.”

Heat builds low in my belly, and I give him a devilish smirk. “But you know I love to be watched.”

Declan shakes his head violently. “Not by my guys.”

At the same time, Cade says, “No. Only by us.”

Us.

God, why do I like that word so much? The warmth in my core goes hot, leaving me throbbing in anticipation.

Declan likes that word too, if the thick rod he’s trying to hide by shifting me so I’m leaning forward is any indication. As if I wouldn’t notice how turned on he is. His reaction only makes me more ravenous. He wants me. He wants us.

“Go home and shower,” Cade instructs. “Then get set up in the living room and call me. On FaceTime.”

My breath catches at the demand. Damn, I like bossy Cade.

And I like his instructions even more.