Pucking Ever After: Volume 1 (Jacksonville Rays, #1.5)

by Emily Rath

I make a sharp right turn down aisle 12. I’m actually excited. I haven’t had a chance to flex my super power in a while. With Rachel, it was almost too easy. Of course, she’s a sorbet girl. She likes to think she’s cutting the calories with sorbet. And since it’s fruit flavored, instead of chocolate or caramel, she doesn’t have to feel as bad about pounding an entire pint in one sitting. The only tricky thing is that her tastes change. Does she want something sweet tonight, like a cool refreshing raspberry? Or a tart lemon? What does post-sex Rachel need? Going with my gut, I snatch up a lemon sorbet, and drop it in the basket. Then I stand before the wall of Häagen-Dazs. “Game time,” I mutter, looking over the labels. I pluck out a pint of Mint Chip for Caleb from the bottom row. If the special edition Peppermint Bark was available now, I’d be reaching for that instead. But you can always count on that weirdo to want mint in his coffee and his ice cream.

Eyeing the Chocolate Peanut Butter one row up from the Mint Chip, I grab a pint for myself and add it to the basket. Now comes the hard part. Mars Kinnunen. Usually my super power is almost like a reflex. I just know…you know? Tess walked in my house the other week and before she even spoke a word, I was ready to offer her a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia. Our team captain, Sully, is a total Rocky Road. No brand names though. Price over quality. He wants the cheapest, most freezer-burned Rocky Road you can find. I swear, that man has forgotten how to live. And Morrow tries to play it off like he’s so laid back and cool, but I know he’s a White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle guy. Novy is lactose intolerant. He had cheese on a pizza once, and I was the unlucky asshole sharing a hotel room with him. I almost made him sleep in the bathtub. So, no ice cream for him.

What kind of ice cream would Mars want? My eyes scan the wall of flavors as I mutter under my breath. “Nothing fruity…and nothing with cookies…” He just doesn’t seem like the type to want fruit in his ice cream. And he’s like Cay with the no drinking thing, so the special edition boozy flavors are out too. As I deliberate, Caleb saunters up behind me, dropping deodorant, floss, and suntan lotion into the basket. “You ready to go?” “Shut up,” I murmur, eyes locked on the case. It’s floating right in front of me. I can almost reach out and snatch it from the air, that illusive flavor that best describes Mars. But I can also feel Caleb thinking. “I said shut up,” I repeat. “I didn’t say anything,” he huffs. “You’re distracting me.” “Distracting you from what?” “From using my super power,” I reply. “Oh, fuck me in half,” Caleb mutters, dragging a hand through his hair and leaning up against the glass door of the Talenti gelatos. “Seriously with this? It’s not a super power, Jake. It’s not anything.” I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. “You’re just jealous.” He scoffs. “Why would I be jealous?” “Because it means I can read people better than you,” I reply. “You think I need to know Mars’ favorite ice cream flavor to know him?”

“I don’t. That’s the problem.” But now I’m invested. I want to get this right. I want to show Mars how well I can read him. And fine, I wanna show Caleb too. “He might just be the toughest nut I’ve tried to crack,” I admit. “Oh, so you’re tryin’ to crack his nuts? Something you’re not telling me, Superman?” There’s a laugh in his tone, but his eyes are serious. Caleb is territorial. Whatever we are—me and him; me and Rachel; me, him, and Rachel—it’s enough to have him on edge. “No,” I reply, gently. “I’m not interested in Mars as anything other than a friend…and the occasional fuck buddy. You gotta admit, he’s impressive. I bet he’s riding Rachel ragged with that monster co—” “Shut up,” Caleb growls, pushing off the cooler to shove my arm.

“I’m not jealous,” he mutters, lowering his voice as an old lady comes around the corner pushing a full shopping cart. “I’m just free-ballin’ it in these shorts,” he adds, discreetly adjusting himself. I snort, my nose catching a whiff of his crisp cologne as he steps in closer, letting the lady pass behind us. I stifle a groan. I hate how much I react to even just the smell of his cologne. My skin feels like it’s tingling and I wanna bury my face at his neck and breathe him in. And I don’t know if it was intentional, but as he shifts, his crotch brushes against the outside of my hand. Holy fuck. He’s getting hard right here in the ice cream aisle. Thinking about Rachel with Mars is turning him on. Fuck, now I’m getting turned on thinking about him being turned on. “Will you just pick one?” he mutters.

“I’ve narrowed it down to two,” I say. “He’s either a Pistachio, or a Vanilla Swiss Almond.”

“Fine,” I huff, swinging open the freezer door. “Pistachio it is.” I snatch up a pint and toss it into the basket, letting the door whisper shut. “So, why Pistachio?” Caleb says, leading the way towards the cash register. “Because Mars is a health nut and pistachios are supposed to be, like, really healthy, right?” “I guess,” Caleb says with a shrug. “Plus Pistachio just seems to fit his whole vibe,” I add. “His vibe?” “Yeah, you know his whole moody, broody, silently thoughtful thing. Like he never says a word, right? But he’s always there, and he’s always paying attention. He sees everything. And he just seems to like know things, you know? That feels more like a Pistachio than a Vanilla Swiss Almond.”

Whether you see him or not, whether he’s the focus of attention or not, he’s standing in front of that goal. Same with Pistachio. It’s always there. People may overlook it, thinking it’s a funky flavor or even a boring flavor, but it’s not. It’s reassuring and delicious.” Caleb frowns. “So Mars is Pistachio ice cream to you? Reassuring, always there, silent, and real…and delicious, apparently?” I nod, liking his list. “Yep. Plus, you know, it seemed the most European,” I add. “I could imagine him on vacation in Italy with some hot Finnish girl, walking by the Trevi Fountain, sharing a scoop of pistachio gelato.”

Note: This chapter takes place roughly nine months after the epilogue of Pucking Around.

Is there anything better than ending a glorious day off with your feet up on the coffee table, a trashy movie on Netflix, and a pint of ice cream in hand? I dig in with my spoon, savoring the tart taste of my mango sorbet. I’m only half-watching this romcom. It’s hard to concentrate when my phone is dinging every two minutes with updates from Harrison. Their surrogate is currently in labor and my twin has zero freaking chill. I’m trying to be the supportive sister-slash-godmother, but there’s only so many times in so many ways that I can tell him contractions are perfectly normal before I’m gonna have to just mute my phone. My bags are already packed and perched by the door because my guys and I leave in the morning for Seattle. We’re all going out to see the new baby. The timing is perfect, really. We have to be back in four days for the start of training camp and then it will be impossible to get away.

They all played a pickup game of hockey over at the practice rink tonight, and then went out to dinner with the team. Karaoke night at Rip’s is a weekly favorite, but I was just too in love with the idea of no bra and the house to myself to bother joining in the fun tonight. They’re bringing me a doggy bag of chicken wings and waffle fries.

Hopping of the couch, I pad silently over to the kitchen in my socks and put the lid back on the sorbet. Slipping it back into the freezer, I glance over my shoulder at the wall of sliding glass and smirk at my reflection. I look like a hot mess—hair up in a tangled knot, smudged makeup. I’m wearing my rattiest cropped Ferrymen sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder, and a pair of hot pink granny panties. I quickly toss my used spoon in the dishwasher, eager to hide any proof of eating my dessert before dinner…a dinner of greasy, fried hot wings and over salted potato fries. Yeah, my diet has been all over the place. I’ve been having the weirdest cravings.

What can I say? If my guys can’t love trash panda Rachel, they certainly don’t deserve smoke show Rachel.

“God, you are being so overdramatic right now,” comes Jake’s heated voice. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Caleb replies. I jerk upright, bottle of San Pellegrino in hand, and close the fridge. My guys come marching through the kitchen, Jake in the lead. “Stop fighting,” says Ilmari from just behind him. “It’s not important.” “Wait, you did not just say that,” Jake cries, wholly incredulous as he spins around to glare at Ilmari. “It’s not important? I’m sorry, but do you want me to punch you or pack your fucking bags?” Ilmari sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Jake crosses his arms and glares. “Well, what did you mean?”

“What’s wrong?” I say, glancing between them as I take the bag. “Apparently, Mars here is Jake’s best friend,” Caleb replies, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Ilmari. “He only announced it to the whole fucking team right in front of me as if I didn’t exist.” I blink, glancing between them. “Wait—what happened?” Jake turns to face me. “Novy was annoyed that I was sharing my fries with Mars because I never let him share my food. But okay, A—” He holds a finger up in the air. “Novy is a fucking pig, and when you give him an inch, he takes a mile. I share my fries, I have no fucking fries. And B—” He holds up a second finger. “Mars is my best fucking friend. You share your fries with your best friend. It’s like a rule, right? And I said all this to Novy, but Cay overheard me, and now he’s acting all butt hurt like he’s not my fucking husband.”

“I thought I was your best friend—” “You’re my husband,” Jake shouts. “Fuck, is saying it in English not working? Tú eres mi esposo, loco.” “Oh, don’t go showing off your Spanish,” Caleb growls. Behind Jake, Ilmari raises a blond brow. “You speak Spanish?” Ilmari and I share a glance. Color me curious too. “I have a whole fucking college degree in Spanish,” Jake replies with a wave of his hand, not turning around.

“Wait—your major was Spanish?” “Yes,” he and Caleb say at the same time. “How did I not know this?” I say, pursing my lips. Has it really never come up in over a year of marriage? “He only picked it because the Spanish Club brought food to all their events,” Caleb replies with a scoff. “Hey, if you’d ever tried Profesora Ortega’s homemade empanadas, you would have majored in Spanish too,”

“But don’t change the fucking subject. Are you seriously mad that I said Mars is my best friend? Cause we need to get that out in the open. Communication, right? Kitchen rules apply. Sudden death.” “I’m not playing sudden death with you right ...

“He’s my best friend now. We live together, we work together, we fuck our wife together. I fold his damn underwear. Hell, we go on sunset beach walks together. But you’re my husband, Cay.”

“Yeah? And what does that get me?” Jake just blinks at him, mouth open on a pant. “Well…how about some pretty fucking amazing sex, for one? When you’re not being a total fucking asshole,” he adds. “Mars is the guy I share my fries with. You’re the guy I share my soul with.”

“Well—I—you have to be my emergency contact,” Jake says. Caleb narrows his eyes. “Your emergency contact?” “Yeah, you know, like if I get hit by a bus or injured on the ice,” Jake says with a wave of his hand. “You have to pick up the phone and take that call.” Caleb rolls his eyes. “So that’s it for you then? The difference between me and Mars is that I get to fuck you and I have to claim your remains when you get steamrolled by a bus?” “Can we please stop talking about Jake dying in a tragic bus accident?” I say.

Caleb is pointing at me. “What about her? What is she to you?” Jake’s jaw clenches tight in anger. “She’s my wife, asshole. Keep pointing at her like that, and I’ll break your fucking finger off.” “So why isn’t she your emergency contact?” he presses. “Why me?” “Because you’re my husband!” Jake bellows. “Fuck, am I gonna have to tattoo it on your forehead? Rachel is my wife. She’s my whole fucking world. But we’re legally married, Cay. That means you have to be my emergency contact. It’s like, the law…right?” He glances at me, desperately looking for validation.

“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand, glaring at Jake. “You put Caleb as your emergency contact? Why would you do that when I’m a literal doctor?” Jake looks like a vein is about to pop in his temple. “Because Caleb is my fucking husband!” “Wait—” says Caleb. “Mars, you’ve updated your paperwork though, right? Did you put Rachel down as your emergency contact?” We all turn to look at our broody Finn. He’s standing by the range, arms crossed in his Rays tech shirt. He glances from Caleb to me, his blue eyes giving nothing away. “Oh shit,” Jake says on a breath. “He didn’t. Mars, you didn’t write down your own wife as your emergency contact?” “No,” he replies softly, looking at me. Damn, why is this actually hurting my feelings right now? This is silly, right? This whole argument is ridiculous. We must be uncovering something deeper.

“Why wouldn’t you pick me? I’m a doctor, Ilmari.” “Yes, but in the moment of my injury, you wouldn’t be my doctor,” he reasons. “You would be my wife, Rakas. And I would spare you any pain.” His gentle words have tears springing to my eyes. “Ilmari—” “I would want any news of my injury to be mediated for you through the careful attention of one who loves you.” “Which of us did you pick?” Caleb asks. Ilmari holds his gaze. Caleb’s eyes go wide as Jake huffs an incredulous laugh. “Great, so we both picked Caleb,” Jake says with a wave of his hand. “So in the event of my best friend getting hit by a bus, I’ll have to hear about it from Rachel who will wait to hear about it from Cay. That’s just great. I’ll be the last to know you could be in mortal peril. Feels really fucking good. Maybe I’ll rescind your best friend badge and give it to Poseidon.”

“Wait,” says Ilmari with a raised hand of his own. He focuses his full attention on me. “Rakas, who did you pick?” I glance between my guys. Shit. “Umm…” “Oh, don’t you even fucking say it,” Jake groans. “You picked Cay too, didn’t you?” I bite my lip, looking to Ilmari. God damn it, I hate to see that look in his eyes. It doesn’t really matter, right? “I’m your husband, Rakas,” he says, the hurt evident in his tone. “Yes, and I love you more than my own life,” I reply, stepping closer. “And you’re usually the most even-tempered man I know. But, love, you do have a tendency to go a little crazy where I’m concerned.” He growls his annoyance. “Nonsense.” This earns a snort from Jake and an eye roll from Caleb. “Okay…well, what happened the last time we all went out to dinner?” I challenge. “We had sushi,” he replies tonelessly. “Yes, and what did you do when my order came out wrong?” He glares at me. “I don’t see how getting a waitress to correct your order counts as going crazy.” Jake scoffs again. “You made that waitress cry, Mars. I had to tip her forty percent so I could show my face in there again.” Ilmari just keep his big arms folded over his chest, saying nothing. “And what about our last game of beach volleyball?” I press. “Langley spiked the ball and I dove to get it and landed funny on my knee and what did you do?” “This is ridiculous,” he mutters. “You carried me three blocks back to the house to clean out the scrapes and get me an ice pack,” I say for him. “You ...

“Well, wait a second. All three of us put you down as our emergency contact. Who did you write? You can’t write yourself.” “He wrote you, of course,” says Jake. “Just promise me you’ll send me a postcard from the hospital, yeah?”

“He didn’t,” says Ilmari. “He didn’t write Rachel either.” Caleb groans, dragging a hand through his messy beach curls. “Wait—you didn’t write Rachel?” says Jake, his tone brightening. “Oh my god, babe, did you write me? I’m your emergency contact?” Caleb pulls his apologetic gaze from me, turning to Jake. He takes a step forward, reaching out a hand. “Babe, listen—” “Oh, fuck no.” Jake jerks away. “Do not tell me you picked Mars. I swear to fucking god, Cay.”

“I love you, and I love Rachel—” “Clearly,” Jake scoffs. “But if I’m lying in a hospital bed, I’m sorry, but I want Mars to be the one with the power to unplug me,” he goes on. “Wait, so in this situation I’m ending your life?” Ilmari says with a horrified look on his face. “Hey, it could happen,” Caleb replies with a shrug. “You’re the only one who will consider rationally and weigh all the evidence. These two will just demand they do everything to keep my heart beating. You’ll know when it’s time to let me go.”

“So I’m no one’s emergency contact,” Jake huffs, flapping his arms. “In case of emergency, when one of the three loves of my fucking life may be in actual mortal peril, I’ll have as much right to get a phone call as Poseidon?” Hearing his name, the dog barks again. “I cannot believe that I’m a literal fucking doctor, and yet not a single one of you put me down as your emergency contact,” I say. “Guys, this isn’t a big deal,” Caleb reasons. “It’s just a name on a form—” “Easy for you to say,” Jake snaps,

“You know, I’m getting really fucking sick of your attitude. Mouth off me to me again, and I’ll show that mouth what it’s good for.”

“Don’t you dare try to turn me on right now. I’m really upset about this, asshole. You know how much I need to feel needed. This really hurts that none of you put my name down.” “Jake,” I say gently, inching closer. “We love you. We don’t want to hurt you. We would never want to put you in that awful position of hearing the news first, of making you have to be the one to tell the others. We were protecting you.” “Well it feels a lot like getting shoved to the side. Last fucking place,” he mutters.

“You’re fucking mine.” He sinks against Jake, pinning him to the counter with his hips, their foreheads touching. Jake’s hands lift, bracing Cay at the elbows. “You’re mine,” Caleb repeats, one hand raising to cup Jake’s stubbled cheek. “Show me,” Jake replies, his resentment giving way to heat and raw need. He drops a hand down between them, cupping Caleb’s dick through his shorts. “Show me all the ways I’m yours—” He barely gets the words out before Cay is kissing him.

“Oh fuck,” Jake pants, breaking their kiss. His head tips back, eyes closed, as Caleb drops his mouth down to suck on his neck, one hand slipping inside Jake’s athletic shorts. “Fuck me,” Jake begs. “Cay, please—” Caleb silences him with another kiss, but it doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back, panting for breath. “Mars, get the fuck over here.”

“Anything to say to our guy?” Caleb says, his heated gaze still locked on Jake. Ilmari’s large hand grabs Jake roughly by the jaw, turning him. Then he’s leaning in, his blue eyes like fiery ice. “You’re mine,” he growls. Surprising the fuck out of all of us, he presses his lips to Jake’s mouth, kissing him.

Then Ilmari breaks his kiss with Jake, his hand already cupping the back of Caleb’s neck. Cay has no time to pull away before Ilmari is kissing him too.

Ilmari breaks the kiss and all three of them are panting. “You’re both mine,” he says. “Fight over me again, and I’ll tape your dicks together.”

“Now fuck each other while I fuck our wife,” he says, shoving away from them as he steps around Cay’s back, his eyes locked on me.

Knowing his lips are warm from kissing our guys has me melting. His sexual preferences are completely his own choice, but I can’t deny how it makes me ravenous to see my guys all love each other. He initiated it. He wanted it. He wanted to connect with them in that way and I am here for it one thousand fucking percent.

Spreading my legs, he drops to his knees, covering my needy pussy with his mouth. “Oh—” I cry, arching back as I fist his hair. I fling my other hand back, bracing against the counter. He slips my legs over his shoulders, squeezing me tight around his face as he devours me, licking and sucking my clit. “God—fuck—” I whine, my orgasm already spiraling so tight. “Don’t stop. Kulta, please—” He pulls my thighs apart, spreading me wide as he shoves two thick fingers up inside me. Tongue teasing my clit, he works his fingers in like a jackhammer, power fucking me. “Fuck,” I scream, head tipped back as I press past that feeling of needing to pee. “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” I cry, toes curling tight, legs cramping. My whole body unravels as I squirt, my pussy leaking into his mouth, gushing like a fountain. Between my legs, Ilmari groans like a feral beast, swallowing every drop.

Squirting is so rare for me. It’s only happened two other times. Both with him. I don’t know what pussy magic he possesses, but he’s officially the king of eating me out. Next to us, Caleb is on his knees, sucking Jake’s cock with hot, slurping sounds. “Oh my fucking god,” Jake groans, head tipped back, both hands fisting Caleb’s hair. “More. Need more.” Caleb pops off him, getting to his feet. He looks to me and I nod. I need more too. I need them all. This moment feels too important to play on tag teams. “You call the shots, babe,” he says at me.

I’m still wearing my Ferrymen sweatshirt. I jerk it off and toss it, leaving me naked. Why do I always end up naked in this kitchen? “I want you all,” I say. “Now. Caleb in my pussy, Jake in my ass. Ilmari, baby, fuck my face.”

“Mars, living room. Move the table. Jake, get the lube.” He drops his hand away from me and my guys split in three different directions. I watch from the kitchen as Caleb calls to the dog, putting him outside. Ilmari makes quick work of moving the coffee table, tossing a few blankets and pillows down onto the carpeted floor.

“Seattle, let’s go,” he calls. “Bring me that sweet fucking ass.”

With a smile, I flamingo each leg, tugging off my fuzzy socks. Nothing kills the mood for me quite like socks on feet during sex. My smile widens, seeing that all my guys have already done the same. Ilmari is standing closest, his hand casually pumping his hard cock. He watches me with a heated gaze. “Come, Rakas.” I step forward, my hand wrapping around his on his dick as I tip up on my toes, kissing him again. He tastes like me and I fucking love it. Caleb steps in behind me, his hard cock pressing at my ass, his hands slipping between me and Ilmari to cup my breasts. His warm mouth settles on my neck, kissing up my ear then down my shoulder. He tweaks my nipples as Ilmari drops his mouth down to kiss the other side of my neck. I sigh, head tipping back, luxuriating in the feel of them. Jake steps in and his hand smooths over my hip, down to cup my pussy. He groans, his fingers slipping through my wetness, circling my tender clit as I hum with need. I bite my lip, sinking into this perfect feeling of being touched by all three of them at once.

Jake pulls away on a pant, his eyes glassy with need as he drops his face forward, kissing Ilmari’s shoulder and up his neck. Ilmari groans, letting him do it as he finds my mouth, claiming me with the strength of his kiss. Caleb steps to my side, his hand reaching up to grab Ilmari’s top knot, fisting tight. He lowers his mouth too, kissing the other side of his neck. “No niin,” Ilmari groans, eyes shut tight as Jake and Caleb suck the sides of his neck.

Jake and Caleb pull away, both breathless, chests heaving. It’s Caleb who speaks, still gripping tight to Ilmari’s top knot. “You’re fucking ours,” he says, intensity lacing his tone. “You’re not our friend. You’re ours.” Ilmari nods, swallowing down whatever emotions he’s feeling. “Yours.” Then he glances down at me, need burning in his eyes. “Yours,” he says again, his gaze locked on me. “Mine,” I echo. “Forever. No way out.” “No way out,” he repeats, lowering his face to kiss me.

“Baby, can I take you with Mars?” he asks, peppering kisses on my shoulder. “Please,” he begs. He looks to Ilmari. “Will you do DVP with me? Is that like, a limit for you or…” I hold my breath, waiting for Ilmari to speak. He shares me with them all the time. Double penetration is nothing new. I know Caleb is his secret favorite. My not-so-straight husband loves himself a little ribbed cock action. But he’s never been in my pussy with one of them before. Cocks pressed together as my walls hold them tight… Oh god, I’m ready to explode just thinking about it. Ilmari looks to me, a question in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs. “My size—” I silence him with a kiss, knowing he’s in. “You won’t,” I say through breathless kisses. “Kulta, you won’t. Let Jake show you how. Please, baby, I need you both so badly.”

“Mars, lie down,” he directs. “Jake needs to run this show. Your fat cock will stretch her out, and we’ll help you get her ready.” Ilmari drops to his knees, pulling me down with him. I kiss across his chest, my hands slipping around to fist his firm ass. His hands do the same, pulling me to him. He tips my mouth up with a hand under my chin, claiming my lips.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” Caleb murmurs behind me. If Ilmari gets first prize in eating me out, Caleb is the king of dirty talk. This man can talk me to orgasm. And he has. More than once. Including once at a hospital fundraiser dinner.

“You want to take two cocks at once, baby,” he teases. “Want Jake and Mars to fill this perfect fucking pussy?” “Yes,” I whimper. “Want them to fill you so fucking tight?” “Yes—” “They’re going to make a mess of you. Our perfect good whore, so desperate for our cum. You’ll take it all, won’t you?” “Yes—ah—” I gasp, my body shuddering as he slips his fingers out and slaps my pussy. “God, I love your dirty fucking mouth,” Jake growls, pulling back on Cay and stealing his air with a filthy kiss. It’s hot and messy and they both moan into it. “Turn around,” Ilmari orders. “Watch them while I stretch you.”