Marco wiggles his eyebrows at Nell. She laughs, the sound bright and warm, and something I want to hear every day for the rest of my life.

  Marco plops the board games onto the coffee table with far too much cheer. “So…” he starts. “We figured since we’re snowed in and since it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere that we make things interesting…” he taps the top box. “Game night?”

  “What’s the catch?” Nell narrows her eyes at him, amused.

  I shrug. “Nothing major. Just a little rule adjustment.”

  “A very teeny tiny rule,” Marco echoes, pinching his index finger and thumb together until they almost touch.

  Andy folds his arms, looking between us both. “Nell… should I be worried?”

  “Yes,” we all say in unison.

  “So what is this teeny tiny rule?” Nell asks.

  Marco flops to the floor, crossing his legs as he does. “Loser loses a piece of clothing.”

  Andy chokes. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope,” I chirp, enjoying the way Nell’s face goes pink and interested all at once. “Unless you’re scared.”

  Andy straightens. “I’m not scared.”

  “That makes one of us,” Nell mutters, but she’s smiling, and she pushes her hair behind her ear. “Alright. Fine.”

  From outside, the faintest jingle of sleigh bells drifts through the howl of the wind. Nell freezes, eyes flicking toward the window. “Surely it’s too dangerous for people to be out there right now.”

  The fire pops. A gust of wind seems to rattle the windows. Marco meets my eyes, and there’s a shared understanding. “Let’s start,” I tell Marco.

  Marco spreads out the cards and shuffles them. Andy sits beside Nell, and I take the other side, close enough to feel her warmth, but far enough to keep my heart from doing something stupid like telling her I already love her.

  As the first round begins, I swear the sleigh bells jingle again—just once—but I ignore it.

  The first round is harmless… or it should have been. Marco deals the cards with all the showmanship of a Vegas magician, winking at Nell every time he flips one.

  “Queen beats a ten,” he announces smugly.

  Nell groans and slides off a sock, tossing it at him. “You’re cheating. I can feel it.”

  “Accusing the dealer?” Marco gasps, hand on his chest. “That’s enough to get you on the naughty list, Ms. Nelly.”

  Andy shakes his head, smiling softly at her. “You’re adorable when you’re losing.”

  “I’m not losing!” Nell insists.

  By round three, she’s down both socks and her jumper, cheeks pinking as each piece goes into the ‘Penalty Pile.’

  Marco loses next—dramatically, of course. He stands up to peel off his flannel like he’s on stage. “Lady and gentleman, please control yourselves.”

  “Marco,” I deadpan. “I assure you. We are controlled.”

  Andy loses a round. He grumbles as he peels off his jumper, now in a fitter T-shirt that makes Nell bite her lip. I lose next, of course. Off goes my checkered overshirt, leaving just the tee beneath it.

  Nell claps. “Finally!”

  “I let you win for morale, babe.”

  She throws a pillow at my face.

  Round after round, the room warms from more than the fireplace. Clothes keep coming off, one layer at a time.

  Marco is down to a thin tee.

  Andy only has his sweatpants and T-shirt to go.

  Me to my thermal pants, and Tee.

  And Nell to leggings and a camisole.

  Every time a layer comes off, the sleigh bells outside jingle, soft as a sigh. By the time the next round ends, Marco looks at his cards and groans dramatically. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Nell beams. “Strip, dealer boy.”

  He pulls his tee over his head with a flourish, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. “Happy?”

  Nell squeaks. “Delighted.”

  Andy loses the next round. He shuts his eyes, breathes out through his nose, and stands.” Well,” he mutters. “In for a penny…” he shucks his sweats and sits back down in black briefs, muscles taut, face redder than fire.

  Nell hides behind a cushion. I lose after him—of course I do—and Marco hoots as I peel off my thermal pants, left in simple gray boxers. “Stop cheering,” I snip at Marco.

  “No.”

  Nell’s face is crimson. She can’t look at any of us without immediately looking away, which is exactly when the next round goes in our favor.

  She loses. Slowly… very slowly… she stands, hands gripping the hem of her camisole. She lifts it, and my throat goes dry. Marco grins like he’s just won the game, and Andy sits up straighter, watching her protectively.

  “Nell,” I say softly, “you don’t have to⁠—”

  “I’m not losing,” she cuts in.

  She pulls the camisole over her head, tossing it onto the pile. Underneath, she’s in a simple red bra.

  The sleigh bells outside jingle again.

  Marco exhales. “Fuck. You’re definitely on the nice list.”

  20

  KENNEDY

  Marco deals the final hand with a theatrical flourish. “The tie-breaker, ladies and gentlemen. And by the looks of it, the main event.”

  We’re all down to just our briefs, which does nothing to hide the erections we all have. My heart hammers against my ribs; every ounce of my focus is on Nell.

  She’s a vision, bathed in the golden firelight, perched on the edge of an ottoman. She’s down to a set of red lace—a bra that struggles to contain the full, heavy weight of her breasts and matching panties that cling to the soft, tempting curve of her hips. A delicate blush paints her cheeks and chest, and her eyes, wide and dark, dart between the three of us, not with fear, but with lust.

  I glance at my card. A two of clubs. I toss it onto the coffee table with a soft laugh. “Well, that’s me.”

  Andy reveals a king. Marco, a queen. They both look at Nell. Her hand trembles slightly as she lays her card down. The ace of spades.

  Nell bites her lower lip, and the simple action sends a jolt straight to my groin. Andy moves first, unable to keep his distance. He kneels before her, his hands settling on her bare thighs. His touch is possessive, claiming, but his voice is tender. “Whatever you want, Nell. Just say it.”

  She reaches out, her fingers tracing the strong line of Andy’s jaw before her eyes find mine, then Marco’s. Her voice is a husky whisper that seems to stroke my very skin. “I want… all of you.”

  It’s all the permission we need. The dam breaks.

  I’m there in an instant, on my knees beside Andy, drawn to her like a magnet. I cup her face, turning her toward me, and crush my mouth to hers. Her lips part for me instantly, her tongue meeting mine in a hungry, exploring dance. My hand slides into her hair, gripping it gently, holding her for my kiss.

  I hear Andy groan beside us, the sound ragged. “Fuck, look at you.” His mouth finds the swell of her breast above her lace bra, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and Nell arches into his mouth with a broken cry against my lips.

  Marco moves behind her. His hands smooth down her arms, coming to rest on her waist. He nuzzles the other side of her neck, his voice a low murmur. “So beautiful. So eager for it.” He finds the clasp of her bra. With a deft flick of his wrist, it comes undone.

  The lace falls away.

  I break the kiss, both of us gasping, just to look. Her breasts are perfection, full and heavy, tipped with nipples hardened into tight, dusky peaks. Andy doesn’t hesitate. He takes one into his mouth, sucking deeply, his tongue working over the taut flesh. Nell’s head falls back against Marco’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as a long, low moan pours from her.

  My own need is a sharp, insistent pulse. I lower my head to her other breast, capturing the neglected peak. The taste of her skin is intoxicating. I suckle her, laving her with my tongue, worshiping the weight of her in my hand. She’s making the most incredible sounds, little whimpers and gasps, her hips beginning to shift restlessly.

  Marco’s hands are everywhere, stroking her stomach, her sides, dipping lower. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of her tiny panties. “Lift, gorgeous,” he commands softly against her ear.

  With a shuddering breath, she does. He peels the final scrap of lace down her legs and tosses it aside. She is bare now, completely open to us, and the sight is everything I’ve dreamt of. The firelight plays over the smooth plane of her stomach, the soft thatch of curls at the junction of her thighs.

  Andy’s hand slides up her inner thigh, his intense gaze locked on her face. “You’re so wet already,” he growls, his voice thick with awe and lust. “All for us.”

  His fingers find her center, and Nell cries out, her back bowing. I watch, mesmerized, as he strokes her, his fingers glistening with her arousal. Marco’s hands are on her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples.

  I can’t wait any longer. The pressure in my briefs is agonizing. I stand, shucking them off in one swift motion. My cock springs free, hard and aching. I step closer, the head of my erection nudging against her parted lips.

  Andy understands. He shifts, moving to kneel behind her, guiding her back to rest against his chest. He supports her, his hands coming up to cup and massage her breasts, his mouth on her neck. This new position opens her up to me completely.

  Marco, still dressed, moves to the side, his eyes burning with a feverish light as he watches, his hand stroking himself through his briefs.

  I guide myself to her entrance. I look down, watching as the broad head of my cock presses against her slick folds. I meet her gaze. “Is this what you want, Nell?”

  Her answer is a desperate, wordless nod, her hips lifting in a silent plea. I push forward, just an inch, and we both gasp at the sensation. She is so incredibly tight, so wet, so ready. Her inner muscles flutter around the tip of me, pulling me in.

  Andy whispers in her ear, his voice rough. “Take him, Nell. Show him how much you want it.”

  With a shuddering moan, she pushes her hips down, impaling herself on my length in one smooth, breathtaking motion. I sink into her to the hilt, the feel of her surrounding me, consuming me, is so intense I see stars. I have to grip her hips to steady myself, my head falling back.

  “God, you feel… incredible,” I grind out, the words torn from me.

  I begin to move, a slow, deep rhythm that has her crying out with every thrust. The room is filled with the sound of our ragged breathing, the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin, and Nell’s moans. I can feel the coil of her orgasm tightening, her body beginning to clench around me.

  Andy’s voice is a guttural command in her ear. “Come for him, Nell. Now.”

  It shatters her. Her climax rips through her with a force that steals her voice, leaving her mouth open in a silent scream. Her body convulses around my cock that push me over the edge right behind her. My own release is a blinding, white-hot explosion, my name a broken prayer on her lips as I pump my pleasure deep into her.

  I slump forward, bracing my hands on either side of her, spent and trembling. Andy is still holding her, whispering praises into her sweat-damp hair. Marco finally sheds his briefs. He looks from Nell’s blissful, satiated face to mine, a wicked promise in his eyes.

  21

  KENNEDY

  Then Marco moves with a wicked grin aimed directly at Nell, he turns and strides out of the sitting room, his naked form disappearing into the hallway.

  Nell’s eyes flutter open. “Where’s he going?”

  Andy chuckles low, his hands still possessively cupping her breasts. “Knowing Marco? Nothing good.”

  The fire pops. The wind moans outside. We wait, the three of us tangled together. Then, a heavy footfall. And another. Marco reappears in the doorway, and my breath catches.

  He’s clad head to toe in a Santa Claus costume. The jacket is a rich, velvety red, open to reveal his taut stomach and erection that stands defiantly proud. Nell gasps. “Oh my god.”

  “Ho ho ho,” Marco purrs. He strikes a pose, one hand on his hip, the other stroking his fake white beard. “I heard you’ve been a very, very good girl this year, Nell.”

  She lets out a breathy laugh, her body shifting restlessly against me. Andy’s grip on her tightens, a low growl of approval vibrating through her and into me. He loves this.

  I move, and Marco approaches slowly, dropping to his knees before her, the red velvet pooling around him. He’s at eye level with her core, which glistens.

  “Such a pretty little present,” he murmurs, not touching her yet, just letting his hot breath ghost over her sensitive flesh. Nell whimpers, her hips giving an involuntary jerk.

  Marco doesn’t need any more invitation. He leans forward and licks her. One long, slow, deliberate stripe from her entrance to her throbbing clit.

  Nell cries out, her head falling back onto Andy’s shoulder, her back arching. “Marco…”

  “So sweet,” he groans against her, his voice muffled by her flesh. “Even sweeter than I imagined.” He dives in, his tongue delving into her with a focused intensity that has her legs shaking. He finds her clit and sucks, hard.

  Nell shatters. A raw, guttural scream is torn from her throat as her third orgasm of the night crashes through her. Her body convulses, bucking against Marco’s mouth. He doesn’t let up, drinking down her release, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs.

  When her tremors begin to subside, he pulls back, his chin glistening. He looks up at her, his eyes dark with lust. “My turn to fill your stocking, beautiful.”

  He rises to his feet, his cock bobbing with each movement. He guides her legs wider, his gaze locked on hers. Andy shifts, supporting her completely, his arms wrapped around her, holding her secure for Marco.

  Marco pushes forward. I watch, mesmerized, as her body stretches to accommodate him. He sheathes himself to the hilt with a deep, guttural groan that seems to shake the room. “Fuck, Nell. You’re a perfect fit.”

  He starts to move, and it’s nothing like my rhythm. His thrusts are confident, powerful, almost theatrical. Each one drives a sharp, pleasurable cry from Nell’s lips. Andy matches his movements, rocking her body back onto Marco’s cock with every push, his hands never still on her breasts and stomach.

  I can’t just watch. The possessive fire in me, the need to be a part of her ecstasy, is too strong. I move around to her front, kneeling between her splayed legs, right beside where Marco is plunging into her. Her glazed eyes find mine.

  I lean in and kiss her, deep and claiming. It’s intoxicating. My hand finds its way between our bodies, my thumb seeking out the swollen, sensitive pearl of her clit.

  The effect is instantaneous. She screams into my mouth as I start to circle it, the pressure firm and steady. She’s being filled so completely, touched everywhere, worshipped from every angle. Marco’s thrusts become more frantic, his Santa jacket brushing my arm with each movement.

  “I’m not… I can’t…” Nell babbles, breaking our kiss, her words slurred with pleasure.

  “Yes, you can,” all three of us seem to growl at once.

  Nell’s fourth climax hits her like a tidal wave. It’s silent at first, her mouth open in a soundless scream, her entire body locking up, seizing around Marco.

  It triggers Marco. With a roar that would shame the North Pole, he slams into her one final time, his body stiffening as he finds his release deep inside her. Andy buries his face in her neck, his own body trembling.

  We all still, a tangled, panting, sweating heap of limbs. The only sound is the crackle of the fire and our ragged attempts to draw breath.

  “You’re the perfect present,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. Her lips curve into a faint smile, and my heart swells. The fire crackles, casting a golden glow over us all as the jingle of sleigh bells is too loud not to notice.

  22

  NELL

  My sister’s wedding takes place on Christmas Day at Frost Lake. The entire shoreline is transformed by the snowstorm, resembling something out of a snow globe. The gazebo is wrapped in pine garlands and golden lights, fresh flakes drifting down like glitter.

  And Holly… she looks ethereal. She’s a vision in winter-white velvet, hand tucked into three hands. She stands between her husbands—Elias, Rowan, and Carter. Three very different men with the same awe-struck look on their faces.

  Mildred is the officiant, and when she lifts her hands, the wind seems to pause. She binds the four of them with a ribbon braided red, gold, and green… the same jingle of sleigh bells plays in the air.

  Mildred pronounces them husbands and wife, the guests cheer, throwing handfuls of snow like confetti. And I’m right there, tears dripping down my face, my own three men standing next to me.

  At the reception in the old barn—strung with warm lights, evergreen branches, and enough hot cider to get the entire town drunk—I finally find my sister by the dessert table.

  “Okay,” I say, waving a hand at her husbands, “you are going to explain all of this. Immediately.”

  She laughs, cheeks pink with happiness. “I was wondering how long it would take.”

  “Did you invite me just so I’d end up with my own three husbands?”

  She shrugs. “Would that be so bad?” She links arms with me, pulling me into a quieter corner where the music is softer.

  “Nell… Sleepy Hollow doesn’t just match up anyone.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “If you didn’t belong here, you wouldn’t be…” she says simply. “All those ‘accidents’ and detours you had. None of it was a coincidence or bad luck.”

  She squeezes my hands, eyes shining with affection. “This place has magic in its bones. It hides soul-bonds, harems, fated ties… until a newcomer comes and is perfect for the right people.”

 

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