by Cassie James
My eyes slide toward Gemma again, and a pretty blush paints her cheeks pink as the bulb flashes for the photo. Santa claps me on the back with a jolly laugh before the elf shuffles us toward the instant print section. I’m not too proud to buy a massive package of the pictures—if nothing else, I’m gonna put one in everyone’s cards this year.
Gemma wraps her arm around my waist, laughing as I show her the pictures. Her laugh fills the air around me, warming me from the inside out, and I let the sound carry me all the way back to my place.
Gemma drops to the sofa almost as soon as we make it inside, looking so at home it’s almost fucking painful. How the hell did I ever manage to make it without her in my life before now?
“So… on a scale of one to amazing, how would you rate today?” I ask her as I drop down to the sofa next to her.
“Eh.” She shrugs, and I turn a mock glare in her direction. “Jury’s still out, honestly. The best part was definitely shooting you, not so sure about the whole harassing Santa part of the day, though.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.”
Gemma shakes her head at me, a laugh bubbling on her lips as I put my arm around her shoulders and tucking her closer to my side. She turns into the embrace, throwing a leg over my lap and wrapping an around my waist, snuggling closely as she hums in the back of her throat.
“Why do I have a feeling you’re not making it on Santa’s nice list this year?”
I tweak her nose, laughing as she grunts and shoves my hand away from her. “I can be very, very good when I want to be.”
Gemma hums again, but this time there’s something different about it. Like maybe there’s a little bit of a moan mixed in with the throaty noise. Whatever it is, it sends a jolt of electricity straight to my dick, waking the poor monster up from a long winter’s hibernation.
Or, you know, from a short hibernation since I had to jerk off to fantasies of her just to get to sleep last night.
I drop my hand to Gemma’s thigh, dragging her a little closer to me before running my hand up to grab a healthy handful of her ass. “The thing is, though, I can be exceptionally bad when the need arises. That’s what makes me so much fun to be around. I can give it to you either way you want it.”
Again with that throaty moan.
Gemma lifts her head to look at me, lust burning through her eyes, but I don’t give her a chance to respond. I lower my head to hers instead, offering her a passion filled kiss as I explore her mouth with my tongue.
My hands go to her waist as our tongues tangle, neither of us particularly fighting for dominance as we kiss at a sweet, slow pace. It’s nice just enjoying the taste of her on my tongue, not rushing through this experience. I roll us as we kiss, laying on the couch with her straddling me, her chest pressed flat against mine.
It’s cheesy, for sure, but she fits against me perfectly. Like we were made for one another. I groan into her mouth when she fists her hands in my hair, pulling my head up to meet hers. There’s an insistence to her kiss that didn’t exist before, and I’m sitting us back up almost as quickly as I laid us down.
Our clothes fly off, the frenzy of our undressing not matching the slow way our lips tangle as we run our hands over one another’s bodies. Gemma moves to swing her legs over me again, but I stop her in time to reach for the cock ring and condom sitting on my end table.
She groans at the sight of them, and my cock twitches from where it’s laying heavily against my stomach. “Mikey.” She breathes my name like a prayer, and it’s my turn to groan and reach for her leg to help her swing it over until she’s straddling me again.
Gemma rubs herself over me as I fumble with the packaging of the condom, and I get distracted by the lovely sight of her tits heaving as she pants while she continues to grind. I lean forward to catch one of her peaked nipples in my mouth, sucking and nipping the hard bud, and completely forgetting about the condom and cock ring.
I can feel the shudder that passes through Gemma’s body when I bite down just a little harder on one of her nipples, and I file that away for later. Apparently my girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, and her nipples are perfect and delectable, just like every other part of her.
“Mikey, please. I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you inside of me.”
I let her nipple fall from my mouth with a hard pop and focus my waning attention on the packaging one last time. My fingers fumble through opening the condom, so I’m secretly glad when Gemma leans back and reaches for the cock ring, freeing me up to roll the condom over my length with a hiss.
Her eyes are dark with the heat of lust when she reaches out to stroke my cock, fingers tightening around my shaft as she runs her hand from root to tip. My head rolls back and thumps against the back of the couch, and everything just sort of stops when she slides the cock ring down my straining length.
The world goes white hot when she lifts onto her knees, centering herself over me, hovering with just the tip of my cock buried inside of her. Her hands go to my shoulders, nails biting into my skin with a delightful pinch, and she stills just long enough to make me open my eyes and lift my head.
“What’s wro—”
She buries the question in the back of my throat when her lips collide against mine, tongue lashing over mine in a show of dominance that’s completely different from the slow, languid way we kissed earlier. My hands drop to her hips, urging her down until I’m sheathed completely inside of her, and we’re both panting.
Gemma rocks her hips experimentally, and every part of my body tenses for a half second. Holy hell, she feels so good wrapped around me. She rocks her hips again, grinding against me slowly until I reach between us to flip the cock ring on. We both jolt at the vibrations from the cock ring pressed tightly between us.
She pulls her mouth from mine, but she leaves her forehead pressed against mine as she grinds and circles her hips slowly for a second. But then the cock ring seems to hit her just the right way, and she hooks her arms around my neck and collapses forward as she rides the ever loving hell out of me.
I sneak one of my hands from around her waist to adjust the setting on the cock ring, and my body tingles in response to the intense vibrations. Gemma gasps in my ear as the vibrations hit her clit over and over again, and it’s not long before her pussy is clenching around me as she shakes and spasms.
It’s hard as hell to not cum with her right there, but the cock ring is squeezing me just a little too tight to be comfortable. So I lift her off of me and settle her back against the cushions before yanking the cock ring off and sliding to the floor. I turn her around until her legs are hanging off the side of the sofa, toes pressing hard against the floor as she braces against the pleasure that’s still rocking through her.
I don’t waste my time. I wrench her thighs apart and bury my cock deep inside of her again, reaching for her clit immediately when she bucks against me.
“Mikey, I can’t,” she says as her hand shoots down to grab my wrist. Like that’s going to come close to be able to stop me from wringing every possible bit of pleasure out of her that I can.
“Yes, you can.”
“No,” she moans as I rock my hips a little harder against her, finger pressing down to add more pressure to her clit. I run a hand over her thigh and down her leg, slipping my fingers around her ankle just to jerk it up and rest her foot on the edge of the sofa, opening her wider to me as I thrust into her again and again.
“Oh my god, yes. Right there.”
And her words are all the inspiration I need to drive into her and circle her clit faster, bringing us both to the edge of pleasure as the sounds of her moans fill the air around us. I thrust harder, and she tips her hips up until I’m hitting her just the right way. One thrust and then another, and we’re both coming completely undone.
Gemma clenches before dissolving into a spasming, shuddering mess. I collapse forward, shaking arms barely keeping me up as I search out her mouth in a desperate kiss.
/> And yeah, maybe I don’t take much in life too seriously, but I vow here and now that this—my time with Gemma—is one thing I’ll never fuck around with.
Twenty-Eight
Ryan
It’s Jean-Luc’s turn to host team dinner, and while his house isn’t near as big as Cyrus’, everyone still fits somewhat comfortably spread between seats in the kitchen and the dining room. It might feel cramped if it weren’t for the company, but this feels natural—all of us sitting here, enjoying a meal together.
Since the Strudford Storms were born two years ago, team dinners had become a regular thing—with Gemma included—because we’re close enough to practically be family.
I let my eyes slide in Gemma’s direction. She seems to be having a good time, flitting between groups of us and making the same off-color jokes she always has, but I don’t miss how she pulls back from touching someone’s arm or resting her hand on someone else’s shoulder.
To be fair, this has got to be as weird for her as it is for us. Or possibly even more weird. Because we’re all just sharing her, but she has to open herself up to twenty-five of us. But still, things are going relatively well, and I can’t help the rush of relief that pushes through me at the thought because lord have mercy, there was a real chance that this was going to go tits up from the start.
“You doing alright, mate?” Edric asks, eyeing me cautiously from his seat next to me.
All I can do is nod.
I mean, there’s nothing wrong with me. But I feel like I’m in a constant state of worry—like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because truth be told, I don’t think I really believed this was going to work. Sooner or later, I expected a wrench to be thrown in the cogs, leaving the entire agreement just falling apart at the seams.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I answer slowly. Because I am.
Gemma, while reserved at times, seems totally happy, completely in her element as she makes her rounds. I can see it better now, the fact that she’s could be capable of developing feelings for each of us individually. I know as a team we’ve had her heart since day one, but it was that niggling doubt in the back of my head that was holding me back before.
“She looks happy, doesn’t she?” I eventually ask Edric, struggling to pull my eyes away from where she’s sitting with Dillon, Hunter, and Lars—laughing her ass off about some story of Dillon getting into shit with an old rugby coach as a kid.
Gemma calls Dillon out, laughing as she points out that he was telling the story completely different just a few months ago. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you one way or another—I never listen that closely. But Gemma? She seems to be an endless store of information about us. I literally have no idea how she does it, how she pays such close attention that she knows us each better than we even know each other.
She’s remarkable.
“I think she’d tell us if she wasn’t.”
Now that gets my attention. I swing my eyes in Edric’s direction, but he’s not looking at me. Not even close. His eyes are glued to Gemma, and I don’t miss the way his gaze seems to pull her attention from across the room and how they share a private smile before she settles into a conversation with Anthony.
“She’s taking it well in stride,” Kellin pipes in, and I lean forward around Edric to stare at my teammate. Out of all of us, he’s the one I’d trust to have a read on the situation. It’s not a well-kept secret that he’s the sappiest, the mega-romantic at heart of all of us. “I was worried it might overwhelm her, but look at her and tell me she’s not completely at ease—at home—with this entire thing.”
Obviously I can’t, so I settle for humming in the back of my throat as Cyrus cuffs Dillon on the shoulder and leans to whisper something in his ear. Based on the way Dillon deflates and stops trying to steal Gemma’s attention away from the other guys, I have a pretty good idea of what our captain said to the attention-seeking man.
“I think there’s a real chance that this could work,” Kellin continues, and I force my eyes away from Gemma once more. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s also been worrying about the feasibility of all this. He hasn’t had his date with Gemma—still has days to go—and unlike some other guys on the team, I’ve never known him to have a casual relationship. And that’s saying something because we played together for a couple of years in the minors, too.
There’s something serious shining in his eyes, and I know then that he’s in too deep. That it’d absolutely gut him if this did end up going all wrong. My stomach twists at the idea of this whole thing not working out, and as I swing my gaze out over my teammates again, I realize that Kellin’s not the only one that’s in too deep.
She’s gotten under my skin, and all I can hope is that we’ve gotten under hers, too. Because what’s the alternative, really?
It doesn’t bother me that Gemma doesn’t make her way over to me until closer to the end of dinner. It’s nice seeing her making a point of taking the time to talk to all of us. I don’t know how, but her ability to keep us all straight seems absolutely effortless. Like she has no greater pleasure in life than knowing us all individually as well as she knows us as a team.
God, and she’s patient as hell, too. I mean, who else would tolerate Ben’s constant bitching about not being on the field with us… without taking it as a personal affront that she’s not doing her job well? I mean, it helps that Mateo tells him to shut the fuck up, but still.
And she’s always looking out for Anthony, too. Making sure he’s got his head on right and is focusing on the right things at the right times to keep his game tight as he develops as a player. I thought for a long time that we were the ones looking out for her, protecting her the best we could despite her shitty boyfriend, but maybe it was always the other way around.
“Hey, Ryan,” she says as she collapses into a chair next to me.
Her words have this breathless quality to them that remind me of the way she gasped and moaned while we fucked like our lives depended on it. I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of how inappropriately hard my dick is under the table.
“How are things going? Have you talked to Alissa recently?” My heart throbs in my chest as she lays a hand on my arm and squeezes it lightly.
It’s not the first time she’s asked me about my sister, and it sure as hell won’t be the last, especially right now during the holidays, when things always seem to be just a little tougher. Everything might’ve gone down in the summer, but Alissa’s seasonal depression hits a little too real in December, and it can definitely affect the entire family.
“She’s good. The baby is, too.”
I don’t know why I still call him a baby. He’s three now, running around and causing chaos like his little life depends on it. Alissa’s got a heart of gold, but I don’t know how the hell she keeps up with him, especially after all the complications from the head-on collision that happened a couple of summers ago, right when Gemma and I were both starting with the Storms. We hadn’t known each other well then, but she’d still stepped in and made sure I was getting through every day.
Gemma fixes me with a hard look, like she knows there’s more I’m not saying. And there is, but I’ll be damned if I say those words for the first time with an audience of twenty-four, so I shrug and offer her a tired smile.
“The holidays are hard for her, for both us. But she’s strong as hell, definitely stronger than me. I’m not sure that I’d be able to survive like she has—losing her husband and being left to raise a baby on her own.”
“You would’ve managed,” Gemma says quietly, the words for me alone.
To Edric’s credit, he offers me a tight smile before getting up and leaving the table. Kellin leans a little further to the other side, too, raising his voice as he talks to Isaac about some game or something he’s been trying to rope him into.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, I am.” The way she says it makes it perfectly clear that there’s no room for argument. “You’re s
tronger than you think you are, and I know you’ve got a soft side hidden behind that bossy, serious veneer, too. You wouldn’t have endured the fair for me, or gone to your sister’s physical therapy appointments without fail, or be checking in on Anthony when you think he’s getting overwhelmed otherwise. I’ve got your number, Ryan. You’re constantly thinking about other people, and I think that’s why you struggle to relax.”
I grunt, not wanting to admit out loud how close to hitting the nail on the head she is. The grunt turns to something a little harder, a little lump that’s hard as hell to swallow around, when she leans in and whispers, “You make it easier on the rest of us, though, and that’s one of the things I like best about you. You have a good fucking heart.”
She wraps her arms around me, burying her head in my chest as I drop my face to her hair, breathing in the scent that’s all her. Equal parts peppermint and chocolate, with a little something florally thrown in. Whatever doubts I’ve had go straight out the window as we embrace.
It’s crystal fucking clear that this means as much to her as it means to me—to all of us. And in this moment, right here where she’s hugging the hell out of me while we’re surrounded by all the people who love her best in the world, I can’t imagine how she’d ever possibly be able to tell us this isn’t going to work out in the end.
Twenty-Nine
Gemma
December 13
The canvas bag Jean-Luc carried into my house drops to the floor with a heavy thud. He offers me a downright panty-melting grin as he passes me by to head toward the kitchen with a white bakery box tied off with red and white striped twine.
I know I just got home from team dinner at his house less than an hour ago, but that hour was misery. Especially when he pulled me to the side as everyone was leaving and kissed the hell out of me before whispering he’d meet me at my place and that he had one hell of a surprise for me.
