Page 57 of Three Hockey Hotties

I let my hand steal between her breasts, then cup one.

She groans into Dash's mouth. I rub my thumb over her nipple, finding it hard behind the thin fabric of her top.

She pulls her mouth away from Dash’s with a gasp, then reaches for the front of Benjamin’s shirt and pulls him in for a kiss.

Nice. I need to see just how sensitive our girl’s nipples are.

As I rub over it again, then pinch it lightly, she kisses Benjamin even more enthusiastically.

Very nice.

I’ll be sure to tell Benjamin he’s welcome later.

I am debating slipping my hand under her shirt and getting against bare skin when she grasps my wrist and tugs it away from her breast.

Dammit. Did I push too far?

But then she slides my hand under the hem of her shirt and up to her bra-covered breast.

Okay, we’re definitely on the same page.

I cup her through the bra, running my thumb over her nipple before tugging down the front of the bra and cupping her bare breast.

But I want her to talk. I reach out with my other hand and grasp her chin, pulling her away from Benjamin’s kiss.

He might be annoyed for a moment, but I think he’ll like this.

“Tell us what you want,” I say against her ear. “Tell us where you want our hands and our mouths.”

She’s breathing hard, and I think she has to take a moment to focus on what’s really happening and what I just said.

She swallows hard.

“Your hand feels so good on me,” she says.

I give her nipple a little pinch, and she moans.

“Good. That’s the idea,” I tell her. “All of this is about making you feel good, Lollipop. Tell us how to do that.”

She looks over her shoulder at me. “I want you to touch me. All over.” Then she looks up at Dash, then Benjamin. “All of you.”

They both growl.

I wonder if Abby knows what she’s unleashed.

I know they both want to take care of her and will never do anything to hurt her or scare her. If she says stop, they will. But I don’t think she understands what she’s doing to the three men with her right now.

We are all twisted tightly around her little finger. She is completely in charge and about to ruin all of us.

Dash holds up a big hand, palm out. “Just tell me where you want this.”

She takes it, pulling it toward the breast I’m not holding. He cups her over her clothes, air hissing out between his teeth even from that contact.

She shakes her head. “Six hands,” she says. “I feel spoiled. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

She looks over her shoulder again. “Completely.”