Chapter 4

Polly

A s daughter to the Greekest mother to have never set foot inside Greece, my spinsterdom was the cause of her longstanding shame and embarrassment—a fact I was reminded of daily with text messages designed to keep me on my toes. One she’d sent me earlier had cycled through my brain all day.

Mother dear: Polly, Janet Myers was at the shops this morning, proudly showing photos of Evie and Nate’s second set of twins to anyone remotely interested. God has truly blessed them. Thought you’d like to know.

“Really, Mum? You thought I would like to know?”

You’re over it, Polly. You’re strong now.

I jumped off the treadmill, ignored my nearby water bottle, and reached for the wine instead, its notes of cherry, raspberry, and plum un-savored as I critiqued every inch of the body I strived to perfect. Zeroing in on the fat around my abdomen, I pinched it between my fingers and hummed.

Maybe another thirty minutes .

Before I could resume my rage run, my phone vibrated with a call. It was sure to be Mum. I’d ignored her since that Evie message, and it was almost nine pm. if I didn’t answer, she would keep going all night, and I had a life to live… plus three episodes of Love Island to catch up on. A wave of relief washed over the second I saw the screen. Holly. My sister. My savior. The one person I would never ignore. Most of the time.

“Hey, Holly. How are you going? Is Piper feeling better?” Piper was my niece. She was three years old and cute as a button… if you’re into kids. She had also been sick with a nasty cold for the past week and needed many extra doses of Aunty Polly’s special cuddles.

“She’s fine, Pol. I’m more interested in how you are. Mum called to tell me about Evie. Would I be correct to presume she’s told you, too, and that you’re now on the treadmill or drunk?”

“You know me, sis. Why settle for one when you can have both.” Forcing a laugh that was fooling no one, I padded back to my treadmill, placed my wineglass in its little spot designed for water bottles, and climbed aboard. “Sorry that she’s turned to bugging you. She never misses the opportunity to remind me of my past. Or that I’m a massive failure and I couldn’t hear it again. Not tonight, anyway. I’m about to get my Love Island freak on.”

I expected a giggle or request for my latest escapade. Instead, I heard a drawn-out, exaggerated groan that reeked of disappointment. “Freak you may be, but you’re not a failure, Pol. You just haven’t found your place in the world yet.”

“See, that’s where we disagree. I do know my place. It’s full of fire, brimstone, and hot guys with massive pokers to poke me with.”

That got the giggle. “Hmm. That sounds good. Reece hasn’t given me a good poke in a while.”

“What are you doing talking to me, then? Hang up and go jump that hot husband of yours.”

“Yeah, right. Piper owns the side of the bed I used to call mine. I’m like a mangy old cat that has to curl up on the end between everyone’s legs and gets kicked in the head every five seconds. Call me tomoz?”

“Nope.”

“Great. Night Plop. Love you.”

Plop. Damn, I hated it, hence why she’d called me that for almost thirty years. “Night, Holsten.”

“Oh, and Ploppy.” Holly hollered, catching me just before I hung up, “Get off the treadmill and go out with Luna. I know you went to the gym this morning. Stop punishing yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I scoffed, disconnecting and slipping my phone back into my pocket. “Stop punishing myself. I’ve hardly begun.”

Love Island be dammed.

Every bone in my body pulsated to the heavy bass of Timberland and Nelly Furtado’s Promiscuous as I sashayed through the crowd at SWING, our favorite boutique club. Its open-minded, why-choose ethos, and convenient dark nooks, made it ideal for someone like me who craved the thrill of multiple partners. who needed to feel wanted. Whether good or bad, to me, sexual attention was still attention, and I craved it.

And why shouldn’t I? I was a hot, single, bisexual woman in her prime. I had my best wing woman and fuck buddy on my arm and pineapple mocktail tingling my tongue. The world was my oyster.

“This is going to be a good night, babe,” I whispered in Luna’s ear, adding a wee nip of her lobe ‘cause I knew she loved it. “I can feel it in my waters.”

“Yeah? I feel something, too.” She whacked me in the arm, sending my drink flying, before spinning me a hundred and eighty degrees, and positioning herself just to the right of me so I could see her hands. “Smack bang in the center of my vajayjay.”

“Fuck, Luna. You shoved the frickin’ straw up my nostril.”

“Who cares? Look. Who is that?”

“Hopefully, someone with a first aid kit. I think I’m bleeding.” Wiping my nose with the back of my hand, I did the best and most discreet blood inspection possible in the dim light.

“Stop being a baby and look. But don’t.”

“Tell you who it is and look, but don’t. Gotcha.” Still sulking, I raised my head and followed the direction of Luna’s wide-eyed gaze.

Woah.

Tall, dark, and carrying the distinct whiff of trouble, our mystery man strutted through the heavy metal doors that shielded the more… private area of the club from the street and let them close behind him. His white tee stretched over his shoulders, clinging to pecs, stomach, and biceps, and damn, Luna was right to freak out. He was the hottest guy I had ever seen… beyond hot. Nuclear. Heat originating at the base of my skull surged down my spine, igniting that special kind of fire in my belly and throbbing ache between my legs. “Holy hell, I have no idea who that god is. There’s no way he’s been here before. I’d notice him with a hessian sack strapped over my head.”

Luna prattled on as I sipped from my drink, twirling my tongue around the straw to stop me from drooling.

Pity it’s so dark in here. I’d love a closer look. As if on cue, lights flashed in sync with the thick bass, illuminating his face, and highlighting eyes a shade of blue that needed to be charted and named in his honor as they did with the stars. Those crystal orbs, a breathtaking contrast to dark hair and olive skin, stayed locked onto mine.

Making a beeline to us, the closer he got, the wider his smirk became, and the deeper my pulse thrummed through my veins. It was maddening. Unprecedented. Otherworldly. Love at first sight was a scam equal to that of Santa, perpetrated by Hollywood and pious assholes desperate to push their puritan agenda, so I knew it was not to blame for the weakening of my knees and soaking of my panties. No, all that was pure, unadulterated lust.

I wanted that boy and I wanted him hard.

Either oblivious to my suffering or struggling similarly, Luna squirmed and bounced on the balls of her toes. “He’s coming straight to us, Pol. Shit, smile. Do I look good? Sniff me, do I stink? Hey, stick your boobs out.”

“Shut the fuck up, he’ll hear you.” With a giggle, I placed my drink on a nearby table, gave my hair a quick fluff, and stuck out the girls exactly as Luna directed, my gaze shifting from him to her for the first time since he entered. “No sniffing and no more Polly. It’s time for Jasmine and Katie to make an appearance.”

This guy had swag, was a definite lady killer, and hopefully as big a ho as me. After what seemed like an eternity, six-foot-something of living breathing sex was standing over me, brushing dark locks from ice-blue eyes and assessing me hungrily. One tendril remained, curling against unfairly long lashes. I had to force myself not to reach up and brush it away. “Ladies,” he nodded, bottom lip firmly between teeth. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s unsafe to leave your drink unattended?”

Ignoring the flip his grumbling American accent caused in my stomach, I tossed my hair over my shoulder and gave Luna my let’s-do-this-together, wink. “I’m not going back to it. I think I just found something else I’d rather swallow.”

Dimples I could easily have taken a bath flashed as a killer smile graced his lips. “And I think Sydney just became my favorite place ever.”

Luca

Fuuuccckk, she is…. Fuck. I shouldn’t go over there. Shit, she’s looking right at me. I have to at least say hi. Can’t be rude. Do not limp. Do not trip. Christ, look at her suck that straw… oh, her friend’s hot, too. Be cool dude, be cool. Shit, they’re whispering. Touching. Shit, are they a couple? This is a bad idea.

All or nothing. Three little words Ma always said should be engraved in my tombstone when my day should come. As usual, she was right.

I couldn’t just skate, I had to be the fastest. If my hair wasn’t long, straggly, and hanging in my eyes, it was shaved into a buzz cut. If I wasn’t chowing down burgers and fries, I was cleaning eating mung beans and quinoa. Rookie NHL life had been no different.

“Look at those dimples,” my then-captain, Lance Ryan, taunted during my first team training. “Kid, you are going to get so much pussy you’ll need to buy a scratching post.”

Willing puck bunnies made it too easy to live up to that prediction, and the playboy life my teammates declared was a God-given right was fun. The sex was good but rarely great, and in all honesty, the scene got real, old real fast. One night, after a particularly wild orgie, drunk, alone, and feeling used, I decided I was done. I wanted a wife or husband once I’d retired. Maybe a family, too.

The pendulum swung, heralding the era of no relationship, no sex,

My six-month skin-on-skin detox ended spectacularly the night of Dallas Brookes’ twenty-fifth birthday, and once again, it was all or nothing. Day or night. Black or white. I couldn’t just go out, have a few drinks and pick up. No. I got drunk out of my mind, found a sexy married couple looking to fulfill a fantasy, and fulfilled it good and proper.

Look where that got me.

I’d promised Coach I’d keep my nose clean. Vowed to focus on recovery. But not ten seconds after entering the club I was infatuated, dropping the worst line in the history of predatory sleezebags, and stumbling into a hotel room with a girl sucking on either side of my neck.

Did recognizing that stop me from ripping my shirt over my head as Katie popped the button on my jeans?

No, it did not.

Stupid fucking idiot. Though, at least now I’m a stupid fucking idiot that’s getting laid.

“Are you some kind of model or athlete? Your body is ridiculously hot.”

The praise of Jasmine, the heavenly brunette I was struggling to take my eyes off, lulled me back to the moment, her appreciative hands sweeping over my body numbing the anxiety.

“I used to play hockey,” I said, crossing my fingers to dull the ‘used to’ jinx. “Now I’m a coach.”

Jasmine paused, her eyes narrowing, almost like she knew I was lying. “Hockey? You mean you run around on the grass with a little wooden stick? How the hell do you get a body like this coaching hockey?”

“Who cares,” Katie snorted, pressing her palms into my chest and pushing until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. “I’m much more interested in getting that hard stick poking me in the belly into my pussy.” Pain shooting from my healing ankle burned through my leg as we tumbled onto the mattress as a threesome. “I knew you’d be a big boy,” she admired, taking me in hand, and tapping my aching cock against her cheek. “Should I suck him or fuck him, Jas?”

Jasmine gave me a once-over, a visible shiver washing over her as she studied my cock. “Suck, Katie. Definitely suck.”

Katie grinned, giving my cock one or two firm pumps before ducking her head and teasing my slit with a flat tongue, each lick a welcome distraction from the stinging tension lingering in my foot, and the fear that it induced. You’ve got two hot women all over you. Let that be future Luca’s problem.

Humming, she traced the protruding vein running base to tip on the underside of my dick, till I was a squirming, boneless lump of flesh, then sealed the deal and her mouth around my weeping head, swallowing me whole in one go. “Oh god. Fuck me.”

My grunt, so deep, so gravelly it was close to pain, was soothed by Jasmine’s sultry tone. “Patience, Cowboy. That’s the plan.”

From that moment, it was all about me, and for a man who’d existed on celibacy and my right hand for almost two long years, it was a fucking awakening. Straddling my chest, Jasmine tucked her silky hair behind her ears and slipped the lovely v-neckline of her dress down, exposing the most golden skin and stunning breasts I’d ever seen.

“Jasmine, you are — Oh fuck,” Katie had sucked the words of praise right out of my mouth, taking me so deep I could feel myself slamming against the back of her throat, drawing me closer to the edge long before I was ready for the moment to be over. Jasmine didn’t help; dropping her head, she kissed a path along my collarbone, down to my nipples, working the peaked buds with nips and tugs. Every flick of her tongue further tightened the coil of desire Katie was tormenting at the other end.

“This body’s got me so hot, I need to touch myself,” Jasmine said, reaching her right hand down between her legs. I watched, my eyes almost shooting from their sockets as she spread the lips of her pussy, rubbed, and moaned, my nipples still between her teeth. It was too much, and not enough.

“I… I like that view, baby girl,” I stammered, so lost in pleasure I could barely string words together. “Come, let me get a better look.” Reveling in her squealed laughter, I gripped her by the waist and slid her closer till her knees sank into the mattress by my cheeks, and that luscious ass was hovering above me. “You smell so sweet.” I hummed, kissing her soft inner thighs. “I bet you taste it, too.” Swallowing my nerves and fear of disappointment, for once, I went for what I wanted. “Sit. For the love of fuck, be a good girl and sit that cunt on my face.”

Jasmine was a woman used to control. The dom-like authority she wielded over Katie made that clear. But her whole-body shiver, the broken whimper that slipped from her lips as she sealed her pussy over my mouth, told me my bossy girl was also a slut for praise.

“Fuck, you two look so hot together,” whispered Katie, slipping my dick from her mouth and wiping the drool and pre come from her lips. I agreed, but with the heavenliest cunt I’d ever tasted rolling over my tongue, I refused to reply. Luckily, I didn’t need to. The blonde took me back into her warm, wet mouth, then slipped a finger between my ass cheeks, seeking out my hole.

“God, yes,” Pure pleasure surged through me, the uncontrollable arching of my back throwing Jasmine off balance and leaving her to squeeze her thighs around my ears to hold her position.

“Gentle, Cowboy,” she chastised, tugging my hair for extra purchase. “This girl’s not finished riding just yet.”

Gazes locked, I nodded, trailing my tongue over every inch of Jasmine’s pussy, flicking her clit, lapping up her begs for more, and the honey-sweet juices making a pretty mess of my chin. Greedy for more, I gripped her thighs so tight it could bruise and buried myself so deep my lungs burned inside my chest. “You like eating my pretty cunt?” she asked, her words belying her doe-eyed expression. “Katie does, too. Would you like to watch?”

“Yes.” I grunted, desire catching in my throat, “Oh fuck, I’m so close.”

Our ménage à trois then descended into a debauched race to the end, one Jasmine and I won in a tie following her broken cry of “Bite me.” I pulled my mouth from her pussy, sunk my teeth into the flesh of her inner thigh, and was rewarded with her filthy cry of yes, a drenched tongue, and the most powerful orgasm I’d ever felt almost blacking me out as stream after stream of hot cum filled Katie’s mouth.

Reaching out, I swept my hand through Jasmine’s ebony locks, taking in her perfect cupid’s bow, flushed but flawless olive skin, and eyes so dark I sensed I could lose and find myself within their depths. Though breathtaking earlier, like that, stripped bare in more than just the physical sense, the lasciviousness a mere memory, she was even more so. Never had I seen something so breathtakingly beautiful. So pure.

“Jas. That was—”

“I know.” Her breath hitched, and I was given a glimpse of sadness, perhaps vulnerability, lingering within her. It was… intriguing. Bewitching.

Movement, a cry of coming, and the sight of Katie coming undone on her fingers snapped the invisible string between us.

Fuck. I forgot about Katie. What a prick.

Sated and spent, Jasmine, who seemed equally shocked by the reminder that we were not alone, ghosted her lips over mine. Desperate for a taste, I chased them, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of her hair that curled around my face. “No kissing, but thanks for the ride, Cowboy.” She winked, shaking her head and turning to beckon Katie to join us. At first, it felt quite unfair to watch them melt into a searing kiss, but when our naughty princess pulled back and licked a drop of my cum from the edge of her friend’s chin, I got over it.

“Holy shit,” I yawned, my eyelids heavy. “You ladies are incredible. Just give me a minute to recoup, and I’ll be right to go… again….”