Nichole "Nick" Mitchell, the daughter of legendary naval aviator Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, was used to living in the shadow of greatness. But even a lifetime spent among elite fighter pilots couldn't prepare her for the turbulence and high-stakes risks that awaited her one fateful night at the Hard Deck.
That night, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw caught Nick's eye with his easy charm and quiet confidence. Just as they began talking, Jake "Hangman" Seresin entered the scene, his bold swagger and sharp wit adding tension and intrigue to the dynamic. Drawn to their contrasting personalities, Nick found herself swept up in playful banter, spontaneous dancing, and flowing drinks. What started as a night of carefree fun quickly escalated into an intimate connection that none of them anticipated.
By dawn, the three of them realized their bond was far more powerful than a fleeting one-night stand. Nick, a fearless aerospace engineer, was captivated by Bradley's steady warmth and Jake's fiery charisma. In turn, the two men found themselves drawn to Nick in ways they never imagined. Together, they forged a polyamorous relationship that defied societal norms and expectations.
But keeping their love a secret weighed heavily on them all. Nick's relationship with Maverick was as close as it was complicated. She had idolized him growing up, and he had always warned her about getting involved with pilots—especially ones like Bradley and Jake. Fearful of losing his approval and letting him down, she kept the truth from him, even as the strain of secrecy began to take its toll. The trio worried not only about Maverick's reaction but about the judgment of their squad mates and friends, fearing disapproval and disgust.
As the pressure of living a double life mounted, the three of them grappled with the impossible question: could their unconventional love survive the strain of secrecy and societal judgment, or was the world destined to tear them apart?
Author Notes: Hey y'all! I had such a tough time with this chapter. The document was corrupted so I had to go back and fix everything. So if some parts seem a little off or out of place that's why. I tried to read through and fix what I saw but I'm only human and I might have missed some things. That being said I hope you still like it and if you do please reblog or comment with your thoughts. Enjoy!
When Monday finally came around, all three of them felt the weight of it. Nick disappeared into her lab the moment she stepped onto base, grateful for the sanctuary of humming machines and predictable data. Numbers didn’t stare. Equations didn’t whisper. Circuits didn’t judge.
Jake didn’t have that luxury.
After finishing his morning tasks, he headed straight for the gym. He needed the burn — the ache of overworked muscles, the grounding rhythm of reps and breath. Something physical to drown out the weekend’s tension.
An hour later, sweat clung to him like a second skin. He pushed open the gym door, rolling his shoulders, already planning a shower and maybe a protein shake—
And stopped dead.
Phoenix was walking toward him.
She was mid‑stride, dressed in PT gear, her expression unreadable — but her eyes sharpened the moment they landed on him. Jake’s jaw tightened. He didn’t break pace. He didn’t look at her. He just brushed past, gaze fixed forward.
“What's the matter, Hangman?” Her voice sliced through the air, sharp and precise. “Can’t even look at me now?”
Jake kept walking.
“Typical,” she continued, stepping closer. “Jake Seresin wrecks something, walks away, pretends nothing happened. You think no one’s going to call you out for the mess you made?”
Jake’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t stop. He was two steps from the locker room door. Two steps from escape.
“Oh, I get it,” Phoenix said, her tone turning mocking. “Just ignore me. Ignore the problem. Ignore anything that doesn’t fit your perfect little world. Classic Hangman.”
He still didn’t turn.
But she wasn’t done.
“That’s all she is to you, isn’t she?” Phoenix’s voice rose, brittle and cracking at the edges. “Just another situation you can charm your way into. And somehow you dragged Bradley into it too.”
Jake stopped.
His hand hovered over the door handle.
He didn’t turn, not yet — but the air around him shifted.
Phoenix took that as permission to keep going.
“You know what?” she said, her voice tightening. “Maybe the problem isn’t you. Maybe it’s her. Maybe she’s exactly the kind of woman who—”
Jake turned.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
His green eyes were ice.
“Don’t,” he said quietly.
Phoenix blinked, thrown for half a second by the calm in his voice.
Jake stepped toward her, closing the distance with controlled precision. “You don’t get to talk about her. Not like that.”
Phoenix lifted her chin, but her voice wavered. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking.”
“No,” Jake said. “You’re saying what you’re thinking. And you don’t even know why you’re thinking it.”
Her jaw clenched. “I know exactly why. I know what I saw on Bradley’s computer.”
Jake’s expression hardened. “You saw something that wasn’t meant for you. Something private. And instead of walking away, you twisted it into whatever story made you feel justified.”
Phoenix’s breath hitched — barely, but enough for Jake to notice.
He stepped closer, voice low. “You don’t know Nick. You don’t know what she means to us. You don’t know what we’ve built. And you sure as hell don’t get to stand here and act like you’re protecting Bradley by tearing down the people he loves.”
Phoenix’s eyes flashed — not just with anger, but something sharper. Something wounded. Something she shoved down so fast it almost disappeared.
“Protecting him?” she repeated, her voice tight. “I’m trying to keep him from getting hurt — and you know damn well he will be.”
Jake’s jaw flexed. “I think you’re doing this because something else is going on with you — something that has nothing to do with us. And instead of dealing with that, you’re aiming it at the easiest target.”
Her face tightened, the muscles in her jaw working overtime.
Jake didn’t soften. “Whatever this is? It’s not about Nick. And it’s sure as hell is not about me.”
Phoenix swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a whisper edged with steel. “I want him protected. From people who could break him.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not the ones breaking him.”
Phoenix flinched — again — and this time she couldn’t hide it.
“You don't think it breaks him when she has to divide her time between the two of you? You don't think he doesn't feel second best?”
Jake took another step forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
“You don’t know a damn thing about our relationship,” Jake said, each word precise, controlled, and sharper than steel. “Nick doesn’t divide anything. She gives everything — her heart, her trust, her loyalty — to both of us. And Bradley isn’t some backup plan or afterthought. He’s essential. To her. To us.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened slightly. Not at the words — but at the emotion behind them. Jake Seresin didn’t talk like that. Not openly. Not vulnerably. Not unless something mattered.
“So that’s how it is,” she said after a beat, her voice quieter but still hard. “You’re actually serious about this.”
“Dead serious,” Jake confirmed. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t posture. He didn’t need to. “And if you were really Bradley’s friend, you’d at least try to understand instead of judging something you know nothing about.”
Phoenix exhaled sharply through her nose — not a laugh this time, but a frustrated, disbelieving sound, like she was trying to steady herself and failing. “Understand? Jake, I’ve known Bradley for years. I know when he’s being himself and when he’s being… influenced.”
Jake’s jaw tightened. “Influenced?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “Nick’s good. I’ll give her that. She’s charming, she’s sweet, she knows exactly how to get people to trust her. She got Bradley wrapped around her finger, and now she’s got you too.”
“I believe what I saw,” Phoenix shot back, her voice rising. “I saw enough to know something’s off. Something’s wrong. And you can pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows, but I know manipulation when I see it.”
Jake’s expression hardened. “You saw a private video you had no business looking at. And instead of taking accountability for what you did, you twisted it into whatever story made you feel justified.”
Something moved across Phoenix’s face — and then it was gone.“Don’t turn this around on me. I wasn’t snooping. His laptop was open when I went to check on him after he blew off the double date I organized. I was trying to be a good friend.”
Jake let out a humorless breath. “Right. And the file just opened itself?”
Phoenix’s jaw clenched. “That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point,” Jake said, closing the distance between them. His voice didn’t rise. “You violated Bradley’s privacy. You saw something you weren’t meant to see. And now you’re using it to attack someone who’s done nothing but care about him.”
Phoenix’s eyes flashed. “Care? Is that what you call it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s playing both of you. And Bradley’s too blinded to see it.”
Jake’s voice dropped. “You don’t know her.”
“I know enough,” Phoenix said, folding her arms tightly across her chest — a shield more than a stance. “I know she’s got you both wrapped up in something that’s going to blow up in your faces. And when it does? Bradley’s the one who’s going to get hurt the most.”
Jake’s breath left him in a slow, controlled exhale. “This isn’t about Bradley getting hurt. This is about you not being able to handle something that doesn’t fit your idea of normal.”
Phoenix’s face tightened. “Normal? Jake, this isn’t about normal. This is about common sense. This is about loyalty. This is about not letting someone walk all over the people you care about.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “You think Nick is walking all over us?”
“I think she’s taking advantage,” Phoenix said, voice cracking just slightly before she forced it steady again. “I think she’s got you both so wrapped up in whatever this is that you can’t see straight.”
Jake shook his head. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Phoenix shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s got you both exactly where she wants you — dependent, distracted, and blind.”
Jake’s jaw clenched. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”
Phoenix cleared her throat, her voice low and sharp. “I’m talking about what I saw. What I heard. What I know. And if you think I’m going to sit back and watch Bradley get dragged into something that’s going to break him, you’re out of your mind.”
Jake’s eyes flashed — not with anger, but with a cold, focused clarity. “You’re not protecting him. You’re projecting something that has nothing to do with us.”
Phoenix froze.
Just for a second.
A flicker of something — fear, memory, pain — crossed her face before she shoved it down so hard it almost looked like it hadn’t happened.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, voice tight.
“I know enough to see this isn’t about Nick,” Jake replied. “And it sure as hell isn’t about me.”
Phoenix swallowed hard. “I want him protected. From people who could break him.” She repeated.
Jake shook head, voice low. “I told you already we’re not the ones breaking him.”
She muttered under her breath, sharp and disbelieving, “Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”
Jake’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”
Phoenix straightened, voice firmer now, louder. “I said I’m not going to let Bradley get hurt because you two can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
Jake’s vision tunneled — not with rage, but with a cold, focused clarity. His hand found the equipment rack behind her, gripping it hard enough to whiten his knuckles.
“Jake! Hey — what’s going on?”
Coyote’s voice cut through the tension like a shockwave. His hand clamped down on Jake’s shoulder, firm and grounding, pulling him back just enough to break the forward momentum Jake hadn’t even realized he’d built with his free hand.
Jake blinked hard, breath coming in tight, controlled bursts. Phoenix stood rigid in front of him, arms locked across her chest, chin lifted in a brittle defiance that didn’t match the flicker of something raw in her eyes.
Coyote stepped fully between them, planting himself like a wall. “Okay,” he said, scanning both faces. “Somebody start talking.”
Neither of them did.
Jake’s jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked near his temple. Phoenix’s breathing was shallow, her shoulders stiff, her gaze darting anywhere but at Coyote.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, let me guess. This is about Nick.”
Phoenix’s eyes snapped to him, sharp and defensive. “This is about Bradley.”
Jake scoffed under his breath. “Of course it is.”
Coyote shot him a look. “Hangman. Not helping.”
Jake bit back whatever he was about to say, but the tension radiating off him was unmistakable.
Coyote turned to Phoenix. “Nat… what are you doing?”
Her jaw tightened. “Looking out for my friend.”
Coyote raised his brows, voice steady but pointed.“Really? Because what I’m seeing is someone picking a fight in the middle of the gym.”
Phoenix’s nostrils flared. “You didn’t see what I saw.”
“No,” Coyote said calmly, “I didn’t. But I’ve seen enough to know this isn’t you.”
Phoenix’s eyes flickered — a flash of something like panic before she masked it again.
Coyote softened his voice. “You’re better than this.”
Phoenix swallowed hard, but her voice stayed sharp. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help me,” Coyote said. “Because right now? It looks like you’re hurting people who haven’t done a damn thing to deserve it.”
Jake shifted behind him, but Coyote held up a hand without looking back. “Not yet.”
Jake exhaled sharply but stayed quiet.
Coyote turned back to Phoenix. “Look… I get that this is a lot. I get that it’s different. I get that it’s not what you expected from them. But you can’t pretend Nick hasn’t been good to you.”
Phoenix’s face tightened. “That doesn't matter.”
“It does,” Coyote said gently. “Because she’s been nothing but kind. She’s been nothing but supportive. She’s been nothing but a friend.”
Phoenix’s eyes glistened — not with tears, but with the kind of pressure that builds behind them.
“And Jake?” Coyote continued. “He’s your squadmate. Whether you want to admit it or not, you two have come a long way. You trust him in the air. You trust him with your life.”
Phoenix’s jaw trembled for half a second before she forced it still.
“And Bradley?” Coyote said softly. “He loves you like family. You know that.”
Phoenix’s breath stuttered.
Coyote stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t throw all of that away because you don’t understand what they have. It’s different, yeah — but different doesn’t mean wrong.”
Phoenix’s eyes snapped up, sharp and wounded. “I’m not throwing away anything.”
Coyote didn’t argue. He didn’t need to.
He just held her gaze with a quiet, steady patience that made her look away first.
Jake finally spoke, voice low but no longer sharp. “Nat… whatever you think is happening? You’re wrong. And you’re hurting people who care about you.”
Phoenix’s shoulders curled inward, just slightly — the smallest crack in her armor.
Coyote looked between them. “You don’t have to like their relationship. You don’t have to understand it. But you don’t get to tear them apart over it.”
Phoenix’s voice came out small, almost strangled. “I’m not trying to tear anyone apart.”
Jake exhaled, some of the tension leaving his frame. “Then stop acting like you are.”
Phoenix’s eyes flashed with something like guilt — or fear — or both.
Coyote stepped back just enough to give them space, but not enough to let them close the distance again. “Look… take a breath. Both of you. This isn’t the place. And it’s not worth losing each other over.”
Phoenix’s lips parted like she wanted to argue — but nothing came out.
Jake looked away, jaw tight but no longer ready to snap.
Coyote nodded slowly. “Good. Now let’s all walk away before this turns into something none of us can take back.”
Phoenix didn’t move.
Jake didn’t either.
But the air — the dangerous, crackling air — finally loosened.
The low hum of machinery and the rhythmic whirl of cooling fans filled the propulsion lab, a familiar backdrop that usually settled Nick’s nerves. Today, it barely made a dent. She leaned over a table cluttered with blueprints, engine schematics, and half‑finished notes, the fluorescent lights casting sharp reflections off the disassembled fuel injector resting in its test rig. She adjusted a valve with practiced precision, but her hands felt heavier than usual — like her worry had seeped into her bones.
She typed a command into the computer, watching as the injector’s latest test data streamed across the screen. Numbers blinked, graphs shifted, airflow metrics updated in real time… and still refused to hit her targets. She tapped her pen against the desk, the rhythm uneven, her focus slipping every few seconds.
Jake and Bradley could handle themselves — she knew that. But Phoenix? Phoenix was unpredictable when she was upset. And the tension Nick had felt radiating off Jake that morning had been impossible to ignore.
Her pen tapped faster.
“Did you hear about the fight?” Emily’s voice cut through the lab noise, bright and unfiltered.
Nick froze mid‑tap.
Emily wasn’t just a coworker — she’d become a friend, and more than that, she’d slowly become part of the Dagger Squad’s orbit. Between late-night lab shifts, Hard Deck nights with Bob, and the Fourth of July cookout where she’d refereed dogfight football while the rest of the squad tackled each other in the sand — then sat around afterward eating burgers and ribs like she’d always belonged — Emily had woven herself into the edges of their group. Not inner circle, but familiar. Someone who knew their callsigns, their dynamics, their personalities.
Nick forced her voice steady. “What fight?”
Emily didn’t answer right away. She’d swiveled her chair toward another tech, already halfway into retelling whatever she’d heard. “Two pilots got into it earlier,” she said, gesturing animatedly. “Like, full-on shouting match. Someone said it almost got physical. And apparently it was over some woman.”
Nick’s stomach dropped.
Emily continued, oblivious to the way Nick’s grip tightened on her pen. “Figures, right? Drama on base is better than cable.”
Nick pretended to adjust the injector settings, though her eyes barely registered the numbers. “Do you know who it was?” she asked, aiming for casual but hearing the thinness in her own voice.
Emily spun back toward her, legs crossed under her chair. “No clue. The person who told me didn’t know either. Said another pilot stepped in to break it up — what was his name? Wolf? Lion? Something like that.”
Nick’s heart thudded painfully. “Coyote,” she murmured.
Emily’s eyes widened, and she let out a soft, self‑mocking laugh. “Coyote — oh my god, yes. Why didn’t I think of him?” She shook her head, amused at herself. “Javy, right. Apparently he got between them before it got ugly.”
She paused, then added, “I texted Bob to see if he heard anything, but he hasn’t answered yet.”
Nick swallowed hard. If Coyote had stepped in… that meant it wasn’t just a heated conversation. It meant whoever it was had been close to losing it. Her guess was Jake, meaning he had to have been arguing with Phoenix. And if it was over a woman — if Phoenix had said something — then this wasn’t just gossip.
This was about them.
“Did they say anything else?” Nick asked, her voice thin. “About who it was or what happened?”
Emily shrugged, spinning back to her workstation. “Not really. Just that it was intense. But hey — could’ve been about anyone. You know how rumors get.”
Nick nodded, but her mind was already racing. The injector data blurred into meaningless lines. She set her pen down, pressing her palms flat against the desk as she tried to steady her breathing.
She needed answers.
She locked her computer screen and reached for her phone. Her thumb hovered over Jake’s contact before she pressed call.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Voicemail.
Jake’s recorded greeting — light, confident, teasing — hit her like a punch. She hung up before the beep.
“Come on, Jake,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you answer?”
She paced the length of her workstation, chewing at her lip. She could call Bradley. She shouldn’t call Bradley. She should trust them. She couldn’t trust this situation.
Finally, she hit Bradley’s name.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Nick.” His voice was steady, but clipped — like he wasn't alone. “Everything okay?”
“Bradley,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. “I heard something about a fight. Two pilots. Someone said it was over a woman. And Coyote broke it up. Please tell me it wasn’t you or Jake.”
There was a pause — not long, but long enough.
Nick heard him exhale sharply. “I don’t know anything about a fight,” he said, but tension threaded through every word. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Emily mentioned it,” Nick said. “She didn’t know much. Just that it almost got physical.”
Another pause.
Then, low and frustrated: “Damn it, Jake.”
Nick’s pulse spiked. “So it was Jake? And Phoenix?”
“I’m going to find out,” Bradley said, voice firm and final. “I’ll call you back, Nick.”
The line went dead.
Nick stared at her phone, her heart pounding. Bradley only used that tone when he was about to confront something or someone head-on.
And if Phoenix had pushed Jake far enough to start a fight?
This was far from over.
Bradley found her in one of the training hangars, clipboard in hand, reviewing flight plans with the same rigid focus she always had before a sortie. She didn’t look surprised when she saw him storming toward her — if anything, she looked like she’d been waiting for this.
“Phoenix,” he said, voice low but vibrating with tension. “What the hell did you say to Jake?”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. She just crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t,” Bradley snapped, stepping closer. “Don’t play that game with me. I heard about the argument. I heard Coyote had to step in. So I’m going to ask you one more time — what did you say?”
A flicker of guilt crossed her face — quick, but unmistakable. Then she buried it under steel. “He deserved it,” she said flatly. “And honestly? So do you. Someone had to say something.”
Bradley’s jaw flexed. “Say something about what?”
“This,” she said, gesturing vaguely, like the word itself disgusted her. “Whatever you three think you’re doing. It’s reckless. It’s irresponsible. And it’s going to blow up in your faces.”
Bradley stared at her, stunned by the sheer audacity. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been my friend for years. And this is how you react? By attacking Jake? By attacking Nick? By attacking me?”
“You’re not listening,” Phoenix shot back, her voice rising. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Bradley barked out a humorless laugh. “By insulting the people I care about? By going after Jake? By going after Nick? That’s your idea of protection?”
“You’re blind,” she snapped. “You’re letting her pull you into something that’s going to ruin your life. And Jake’s too wrapped up in it to see straight. Someone had to say it.”
Bradley stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”
Phoenix’s eyes flashed. “Why not? Because you’re in love with her?”
Bradley didn’t rise to the bait. “You already knew that.”
Phoenix scoffed, but there was a tremor under it. “Yeah, well, knowing it and watching you throw your entire life into this mess for it are two different things.”
“I’m not twisting anything,” she said. “I’m pointing out reality. You’re both acting like this is some fairytale. Like it’s all going to magically work out. But it won’t. It never does.”
Bradley’s patience snapped. “You don’t know a damn thing about what we have.”
“I know enough,” Phoenix shot back. “I know you’re risking your career. I know you’re risking your reputation. I know you’re risking everything for something that isn’t sustainable.”
Bradley’s voice dropped to a razor’s edge. “You don’t get to decide what’s sustainable for me.”
Phoenix’s jaw clenched. “Fine. Then answer this — what happens when it falls apart? When she chooses him? Or when he chooses her? What happens when you’re the one left out?”
Bradley stepped forward, and for the first time, Phoenix took a step back.
“Nick doesn’t have to choose,” he said, voice low and controlled. “That’s the whole point. And we’ve talked about everything — the risks, the complications, the future. We’re not stumbling into this blind.”
“You’re delusional,” Phoenix whispered, but the conviction in her voice wavered.
“No,” Bradley said, “I’m honest. Something you might want to try.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You think this is honesty? You think this is love? You’re playing house with two people and pretending it’s normal.”
Bradley’s voice sharpened. “You don’t get to define normal for me.”
Phoenix’s breath hitched — not with fear, but with something like desperation. “And what about Maverick? Does he still not know his daughter is wrapped up in this twisted little ménage à trois you’ve built?”
Bradley went still.
Completely, utterly still.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet — too quiet.
“You crossed a line.”
Phoenix swallowed, but didn’t back down. “Someone had to say it.”
“No,” Bradley said, stepping closer, “no one had to say that. And especially not you.”
Her voice cracked. “I’m trying to make you see—”
“You’re not trying to make me see anything,” Bradley cut in. “You’re trying to tear us apart because you can’t handle something you don’t understand.”
“That’s not true,” she whispered.
“It is,” Bradley said. “And you know it.”
Phoenix’s shoulders sagged, just slightly. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Well you failed. Because guess what?” What you're doing here is hurting me.”
“That isn't my intent you have to believe that. I just know how Maverick can be and-.”
Bradley’s eyes narrowed. “Maverick is none of your business.”
“So you haven't told him?”
He didn't respond.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Phoenix said, a cold smile tugging at her mouth. “I can only imagine what he’d think about his daughter being passed back and forth between his two star pilots like a hot potato.”
Bradley felt something inside him snap — not loudly, but cleanly, like a wire pulled too tight. He stepped forward, closing the distance in a single stride, his voice low and dangerous.
“You listen to me,” he said, each word sharp enough to cut. “Nick isn’t being shared like some object you can hand off. She’s not being passed around. She’s a grown woman making her own choices about her own life. And if you think I’m going to stand here and let you talk about her like that—”
“Like what?” Phoenix challenged, though she instinctively stepped back. “Like the truth?”
“That’s not truth,” Bradley said, his voice vibrating with controlled fury. “That’s you twisting something you don’t understand into something ugly. Nick isn’t being ‘passed back and forth.’ She’s choosing the people she loves and how she loves them.”
Phoenix’s eyes flashed. “Oh, please. Spare me the poetic speech. I saw the video, Bradley. The three of you. Don’t pretend it was some wholesome moment. It was—”
“Stop.” Bradley’s voice cracked through the air like a whip.
Phoenix blinked, startled by the force of it.
“You watched something that wasn’t meant for you,” Bradley said, his tone cold enough to frost glass. “Something private. Something intimate. And instead of having the decency to look away, you decided to weaponize it.”
“I didn’t weaponize anything,” Phoenix snapped, though her voice wavered. “I reacted like any sane person would. What I saw was—wrong. It was disturbing. And if Nick thinks that kind of behavior is normal, then she needs help, not two men encouraging her.”
Bradley clenched fist, his expression hardening. “You don’t get to decide what’s normal for her. You don’t get to judge her for something she chose, something she consented to, something she trusted us with.”
Phoenix crossed her arms, defensive and brittle. “So you’re just going to stand there and pretend that what I saw was healthy? That it wasn’t twisted? That it wasn’t dangerous?”
“What’s twisted,” Bradley cut in, his voice deadly calm, “is you thinking you have the right to judge her for something she chose. Something she wanted. Something she felt safe enough to explore.”
Phoenix’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down.
Bradley continued, his voice low and sharp. “Nick feels safe with us. She feels supported. She feels free to explore her desires without fear, without shame, without judgment. That’s what you saw — not degradation. Not control. Not whatever nightmare you’ve built in your head. You saw a woman who trusts us enough to be vulnerable. And you turned it into something ugly because you can’t handle the idea that she’s happy in a way you don’t understand.”
Phoenix’s lips pressed into a thin line. “So what, this whole arrangement is just… fine? You expect everyone to smile and nod and pretend it’s normal?”
“I don’t expect anything from you,” Bradley said. “Least of all approval. What we have works for us. We’re not hurting anyone. We’re not asking for permission.”
“And that video?” Phoenix pressed, her voice sharp and cruel. “That’s just part of your perfect little setup?”
Bradley’s jaw tightened. He was sick and tired of her bringing up that video. “That was a private recording. And the fact that you’re dragging it into this conversation again tells me everything I need to know about where your head is.”
“Private or not, it was disgusting,” Phoenix snapped. “Seeing her like that—like she had no self-respect—”
Bradley’s control broke.
His hand shot out, grabbing Phoenix’s arm with enough pressure to make her gasp.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled, voice so low it barely carried. “Don’t you ever talk about Nick like that again.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened, genuine fear flickering across her face. She’d never seen Bradley like this — not in training, not in combat, not ever. His fury wasn’t loud. It wasn’t explosive. It was cold. Focused. Terrifying.
“Bradley—” she whispered.
He leaned in, his voice a razor’s edge. “You crossed a line the second you opened your mouth about that video. And you crossed another when you dragged her character into it. You don’t get to judge her. You don’t get to shame her. You don’t get to make something she trusted us with into ammunition.”
Phoenix swallowed hard, her bravado cracking.
Bradley released her arm, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t fade.
“You want to be angry?” he said. “Fine. Be angry. But don’t you ever — ever — speak about her like that again.”
She never saw Bradley that angry before and it almost terrified her.
He could tell.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, his voice steadier but still tight with anger. "I shouldn't have grabbed you. But Phoenix, I swear to God, friend or not, you say one more word about Nick like that and we're done. Forever."
“Bradley…”
Phoenix's words hung in the air like poison. Bradley stared at her, his entire body taut with barely contained fury.
"This conversation is over," he said, voice dangerously quiet. "You've made your position clear. Now let me make mine clear: stay away from Nick. Stay away from Jake. And stay away from me."
Phoenix's expression faltered, something like regret flickering across her features. "Bradley, I'm just trying to—"
"No." He cut her off with a sharp gesture. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to insult someone I love and then act like you're doing me a favor." He took a step back, putting distance between them. "We're done here."
Bradley turned and walked away, his steps measured and deliberate. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see Nick's name on the screen. Taking a second, he waited to look at her text.
Nick: It's been awhile and I haven't heard from you. I'm worried. Did you find Jake?
Bradley decided after what just happened with Phoenix it'd be easier to call her than text.
But instead he stared at the text message for awhile, his hand still trembling with residual anger. He took a deep breath, stepping further away from Phoenix as he hit the call button.
Nick answered on the first ring. "Bradley? What happened? Did you find Jake?"
Just hearing her voice seemed to center him, the knots of tension loosening in his chest. "No, I haven't found Jake yet," he replied, his voice steadier than he expected. "But I did find Phoenix."
There was a pause on the other end. "Oh," Nick said softly. "How did that go?"
Bradley ran a hand through his short hair, glancing back to make sure Phoenix wasn't following him. "Not good," he admitted. "It got… intense. She said some things I can't repeat."
"About me?" Nick asked, her voice smaller than he'd ever heard it.
Bradley's jaw clenched at the vulnerability in Nick's voice. He stepped around the corner of the hangar, ensuring he was truly alone before speaking again.
"Yeah," he admitted, keeping his voice low. "About you. About us. About Jake. She crossed every line, Nick."
He heard Nick's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "How bad?"
Bradley hesitated, unwilling to repeat the vile words Phoenix had hurled at him. "Bad enough that I'm done with her. Completely done."
"Bradley," Nick's voice was gentle but insistent. "What did she say?"
He closed his eyes, leaning against the hangar wall. "She… she brought up the video again. Of us. The three of us."
The silence that followed was deafening. When Nick finally spoke, her voice filled with anger. “Are you fucking serious? I have half a mind to go down there a beat her ass into the ground.”
Bradley couldn't help but smile at the fire in Nick's voice. It was one of the things he loved most about her—that fierce protectiveness that mirrored his own.
"As much as I'd love to see that," he said, his voice softening, "maybe hold off on the ass-kicking for now. The base is already buzzing with rumors about the fight between Jake and Phoenix."
"So it was them," Nick said, her voice tight. "I knew it. What happened?"
Bradley sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know the details. Just what you told me. But knowing Phoenix and what she just said to me, I can guess what set Jake off."
"I need to find him," Nick said, determination creeping into her voice. "He's not answering his phone."
"I'll keep looking for him don't worry.”
Bradley’s boots scuffed against the concrete as he strode through the corridor, his phone pressed to his ear. Nick’s voice on the other end was steady but tinged with concern, the kind that made his stomach tighten. He’d already told her he was looking for Jake, but she clearly wasn’t reassured yet.
“You think he’s okay?” she asked softly, a hint of hesitation in her tone.
“He will be,” Bradley replied, though there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. “You know how he is. When Jake’s fired up, he doesn’t cool off quickly. He just needs space to work through it.”
As he rounded the corner, Bradley’s pace slowed. There, coming toward him, was Jake. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his face tight with the weight of his thoughts. He didn’t look angry, exactly—more like he was bracing himself for whatever came next.
“I’ve got him,” Bradley said into the phone, his voice lightening just a touch. “Hang on.”
Jake noticed him, his steps slowing as their eyes met. “Bradshaw,” he greeted, his tone clipped but not harsh. It was clear he was still carrying the tension from earlier, though it wasn’t directed at Bradley.
Bradley raised an eyebrow. “Nick’s on the line,” he said, tilting the phone slightly so Jake could hear her muffled voice. “She’s worried about you. Says she tried calling.”
Jake sighed, his jaw tightening before he ran a hand through his hair. “I know,” he admitted. “I needed time to cool down. I didn’t want to come to either of you in the headspace I was in after that thing with Phoenix. It wouldn’t have helped anyone.”
Bradley studied him for a moment, then nodded in quiet understanding. He tapped the speakerphone button and held the phone between them. “You can tell her yourself.”
Nick’s voice came through, a mix of relief and lingering worry. “Jake? I tried calling you. Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” Jake said, his tone softer now but still carrying the weight of the day. “I was just… angry. Upset. And I didn’t want to bring that to you or Bradley. I needed time to process, get my head on straight, and figure out how to handle this.”
There was a beat of silence before Nick spoke again, her voice firmer this time. “I think we need to meet. The three of us. Whatever Phoenix said, whatever rumors are already going around—we need to get ahead of it. If she decides to spin something, or if it gets far enough that my dad hears about it…” She trailed off, letting the weight of her words settle.
Bradley exchanged a glance with Jake, their silent agreement immediate. “She’s right,” Bradley said. “We need to have our story straight before this gets any worse.”
“Alright,” Jake said with a nod, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. “Where?”
“Our usual spot,” Nick suggested. “The back hangar. It’s quiet and out of the way.”
“Works for me,” Bradley said, and Jake gave a small grunt of agreement.
“I’ll meet you both there,” Nick said, her tone resolute. There was a pause, a softness creeping into her voice. “And, Jake… I love you.”
Jake’s breath caught for the briefest moment, the weight of the day easing just slightly. His tone softened as he replied, “I love you too, Nick.”
Bradley glanced at Jake, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile before he slipped the phone into his pocket, the conversation settled.
They started toward the other side of the base the tension in the air wasn’t completely gone, but there was a shared understanding between them now—a readiness to face whatever was coming, together.
As they continued walking Bradley cleared his throat. “I think I should tell you that you're not the only one who got into it with Phoenix.”
“What?”
He nodded. “Nick called me saying there was a rumor going around the base about a fight over a woman and Coyote had to break it up. She tried to call you but you didn't answer so naturally she started to worry. She called me to see if I knew where you were. I didn't but obviously I said I would find you.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck. “But I was so angry I decided to confront Phoenix myself.”
Jake stopped mid-stride, turning to face Bradley fully. "You confronted Phoenix? What happened?"
Bradley's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he recalled the encounter. "Let's just say it didn't go well. She said some things…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Things about Nick that I won't repeat."
Jake's expression hardened. "Let me guess—more of the same shit she was spewing at me earlier?"
"Probably," Bradley confirmed with a grim nod."She brought up the video again.Trying to make what we have sound dirty. Used it all to try and shame Nick." He ran a hand over his face. "God, I could've killed her, Jake."
Jake's laugh was hollow. "Join the club. If Coyote hadn't stepped in when he did…" He shook his head.
"Hell, I grabbed her arm," Bradley confessed, his voice dropping low. "When she kept at it I… snapped."
Jake's eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise crossing his features. "You? Mr. Cool-Under-Pressure Bradshaw put hands on someone?"
"I know," Bradley sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Not proud of it. But the things she said about Nick…" His voice trailed off, the muscles in his jaw working. "I've never wanted to hurt someone like that before."
Jake nodded, understanding darkening his features. "When she threatened to tell Maverick… man, I lost it. If Coyote hadn't been there…"
"She threatened what?" Bradley stopped dead in his tracks, his face going pale. "She's going to tell Maverick about us?" She didn't say that when we talked. Just kept saying what do you think he'd say if he knew.”
"She said she'd tell him what his daughter has been up to, with both of us." Jake's hands clenched into fists at the memory.
Bradley stopped walking, his face draining of color. "Fuck, Jake. If she tells Maverick…"
"I know." Jake ran a hand through his hair, the strain evident in every line of his body. "That's why we need to talk to Nick. Figure out our next move before Phoenix does something we can't undo."
He nodded in agreement. “What exactly did she say to you to make you snap?”
Bradley's face darkened. "She just made a mockery of our sex life
And that it was disgusting what she does with us."
Jake's face hardened into stone, his jaw clenching so tight a muscle twitched visibly. For a moment, he was completely silent, the fury building behind his eyes like a gathering storm.
"She said that?" His voice came out barely above a whisper, each word sharp enough to cut. "To your face?"
"Yeah," Bradley confirmed, running a hand over his face. "She was on a roll."
Jake let out a harsh laugh, devoid of any humor. "Unbelievable. She's so concerned about Nick's agency, but she's the one treating her like she doesn't have a brain in her head. Like Nick hasn't thought all this through."
"That's exactly what I told her," Bradley said, shaking his head in disgust. "She doesn't get it. She doesn't want to get it. She just wants to tear this down because it doesn't fit into her narrow little worldview."
Jake's expression darkened further. "You know what this means, right? We can't trust her. Not anymore."
"I know," Bradley agreed, his voice heavy with resignation. "I told her to stay away from all of us. Made it clear we were done."
They walked in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation settling between them. The back hangar was just ahead, and through the small side entrance, they could see Nick already waiting, pacing back and forth with nervous energy.
As soon as she spotted them, Nick rushed forward, her eyes scanning both their faces with concern. "Hey," she said, her voice softer than usual. "Are you both okay?"
Jake reached her first, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. His lips brushed her forehead, his touch gentler than his tense posture would suggest. "We're fine," he murmured against her skin. "Just been a hell of a day."
Bradley joined them, his hand finding the small of Nick's back, completing their circle. "That's an understatement," he added, his voice rough with emotion.
Nick looked between them, her green eyes sharp with worry. "Tell me everything. No sugar-coating it."
Jake leaned against the workbench, his arms crossed over his chest, a storm still brewing behind his eyes. "Phoenix isn't backing down on how she feels about us," he started, his voice tight. "She confronted me at the gym," Jake continued. "Said some things I won't repeat. About you, about us. It got heated."
"Heated enough that Coyote had to step in as you know," Bradley added quietly. "And then later, she and I had our own… discussion."
Nick looked between them, her expression hardening. "I know you both had words with her but I need to know exactly what she said. All of it. No protecting me."
Jake and Bradley exchanged a glance, a silent debate passing between them. Finally, Jake sighed.
"She brought up the video again," He admitted, his voice tight. "She was pretty fixated on it."
Nick's face paled, her fingers digging into her palms. "What?"
"She used it against us," Bradley said quietly. "Called it ‘disgusting' and… used it to shame you. To shame all of us."
"She called you things I won't repeat," Jake added, his jaw clenching. "Degrading things. Because of what she saw in the video."
"Because I like to call you both 'Sir' during sex?" Nick's voice rose slightly, her cheeks flushing with anger. "Because I enjoy submission with two men I trust completely? That's what she's judging me for?"
"That, and the fact that you're with both of us," Bradley confirmed, his voice tight with restrained anger. "She kept saying we were 'sharing' you, like you're some object being passed back and forth."
Nick's face flushed deeper, her green eyes flashing with fury. "Of course she did. God forbid a woman actually choose what she wants instead of following some outdated script."
Jake pushed off from the workbench, his movements restless. "That's not the worst of it, Nick," he said, his voice dropping lower. "She threatened to tell your father about us."
The color drained from Nick's face, her eyes widening in shock. "She what?"
“When I confronted her,” Jake continued, “things got heated. She insinuated she’d go to Maverick and tell him…”
Nick’s face went completely white, her body suddenly rigid. “She wouldn’t,” she whispered, though the fear in her eyes said she believed Phoenix absolutely would.
“She would,” Bradley confirmed grimly. “She feels strongly that we’re making a big mistake and thinks she’s protecting us. If she believes going to Maverick is the way to do that, then yeah… she absolutely would.”
Nick sank down onto a nearby crate, her hands trembling slightly. “My dad would…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, her eyes growing distant as she contemplated the fallout.
“I know,” Jake said softly, moving to kneel in front of her. He took her hands in his, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her skin. “That’s why we need to figure out what to do before she makes good on her threat.”
Nick swallowed hard, her gaze flicking between them. “I just… I can’t believe she’d go that far.”
Bradley exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think she would either. But after today? I’m not sure we know her as well as we thought.”
Silence settled over them — not empty, but heavy. The kind of silence that comes after a blow you didn’t see coming.
Nick leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, staring at the floor as if it might offer answers. “I just need a second,” she murmured, grounding herself with a slow breath.
Jake didn't rush her. He simply nodded once, steady. “Take as long as you need.”
Bradley shifted a little closer, voice low but certain. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Nick nodded, though her eyes were still distant. She stayed on the crate for a while — long enough for her breathing to even out, long enough for her pulse to slow, long enough for the initial shock to fade into something steadier.
When she finally lifted her head, she let out a slow breath. “About earlier… when you were telling me everything,” she said, easing into it naturally. “I know you two were trying to be honest with me. And I appreciate that. But… I could still feel you holding back a little.”
Jake and Bradley exchanged a look — not guilty, just acknowledging she wasn’t wrong.
Bradley spoke first. “We weren’t trying to shield you. We just didn’t want to stack more on you when you were already hit hard.”
Nick pushed a hand through her hair, then stood slowly, the movement deliberate. “I meant what I said — I don’t want you tiptoeing around me. Whatever happens, I can handle it.”
Bradley hesitated — a beat, just enough to show he heard her — then nodded. “…Alright.”
Jake’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile but close. “Noted, darlin’.”
Without thinking, Nick stepped between them — the most natural place in the world for her to be.
She let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Well… between the three of us, we’ll sort it out.”
Jake opened his mouth to answer—
And then—
Something under the floor shifted.
Small.
Quick.
Strong.
Nick’s head snapped up.
A second jolt followed — sharper, enough to make a loose bolt on the workbench tip, wobble, and roll off the edge, clattering to the ground.
Bradley’s eyes flicked toward the far end of the hangar.
A third, heavier thump traveled through the concrete—and the sound echoed up right through the metal walls.
Title: Blame It on the Tequila
Summary: Nichole meets Bradley and Jake for the first time at The Hard Deck.
Word Count: 10,341
Warnings: Drinking, drunk sex, flirting, threesome, oral sex, P in V, double vaginal penetration, slight praise kink
Tags: Smut
Author Notes: Hey guys! This is my first official TGM story. It's a bit different then the stories you're probably use to reading, being that it's polyamorous. There's also going to be A LOT of smut!!! I didn't intend for there to be as much as there is but y'all have seen Glen and Miles. It's honestly there fault for looking so good and causing me to think dirty, smutty thoughts. I also would like to warn readers that a lot of the chapters are very long. I'm trying to go through what I've already written and see what I can break into different chapters so they're not as long. And I'm also trying to keep the chapter length in mind for anything new I write. Hence why I put up a poll asking about story length. So if you like long chapters this story is definitely for you! If not I'm sorry in advance! Anyways I hope y'all enjoy the story!
Nichole sat at the bar sipping her beer that Penny had gotten her moments ago.
Penny had decided to offer live music and scored a local popular band, Fuselage, to play out on the deck. She decided to invite her boyfriends daughter Nichole to the first performance.
As she took a swig of her beer she noticed a man in a Hawaiian T-shirt and white wife beater appear next to her.
Nichole glanced sideways at the newcomer, her eyebrow arching slightly as she took in his attire. The clash of tropical print and stark white undershirt was almost as jarring as his sudden appearance at her elbow. She took another sip of her beer, savoring the crisp taste as she waited to see if Hawaiian Shirt Guy would make a move.
"Nice night for some music," he said, leaning casually against the bar.
Nichole smirked, her father's trademark expression playing across her features. "I'd say it's a nice night for a lot of things," she replied, her tone playful but guarded. Let’s see what kind of angle you’re working here, Hawaiian Shirt Guy, she thought to her self. She took another sip of her beer, watching him over the rim of her glass like a cat sizing up a new toy.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Penny watching their interaction, a knowing look on the older woman's face. Nichole suppressed a grin, wondering what sage advice her father's girlfriend would offer later about this encounter.
The band could be heard setting up on the deck.
"I'm Bradley," Hawaiian Shirt Guy said, offering his hand with a confidence that suggested he wasn't accustomed to rejection.
"Nick," she replied, giving his hand a firm shake that matched his own.
"Nick," he repeated, holding her gaze a beat longer than necessary. "Short for Nicole, I'm guessing?"
"Nichole," she corrected, emphasizing the 'h' with a slight tilt of her head. "But only my mother calls me that when she's pissed."
Bradley laughed, a warm sound that seemed to rise from somewhere genuine. "Fair enough. And what brings you to The Hard Deck tonight, Nick?"
She gestured toward Penny, who was now expertly mixing cocktails down the bar. "A friend invited me. You?"
"I fly with the squadron based at North Island," he said, the statement simple but carrying weight. "This place is something of a tradition."
Nichole's interest piqued, though she kept her expression neutral. Growing up around pilots had taught her to recognize the subtle tells—the straight posture, the calculated awareness of surroundings, the underlying intensity beneath the casual demeanor. This guy was definitely a naval aviator.
"North Island, huh?" Nichole swirled the remaining beer in her bottle, her gaze steady on Bradley, as if trying to gauge the depth of his confidence "You must know your way around an F/A-18 then."
Bradley's eyebrows rose slightly, surprise and intrigue flashing across his face. "You know your aircraft."
"Let's just say I've spent some time around hangars," Nichole replied with a cryptic smile.
As she glanced at Bradley, Nichole noticed a shift in his posture. The easy confidence he'd exuded just moments ago seemed to harden, his frame growing taut like a wire pulled just shy of snapping. His shoulders squared subtly, his gaze sharpening as though scanning for an incoming threat—or perhaps, an unavoidable confrontation. It wasn’t alarm exactly, but there was a guarded precision in the way he held himself now, a readiness that piqued her interest. Before she could put her finger on it, a voice cut through the din of the bar. Bradley had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The familiar voice drawled, a hint of amusement coloring the words.
Nichole turned, her green eyes lighting up at the sight of the mystery hunk standing next to her. She had never met him before but could sense that Bradley had.
Nichole's gaze flickered between the two men, sensing the sudden tension crackling in the air. The newcomer exuded cocky confidence, his smirk a mirror image of her own trademark expression. She couldn't help but feel a spark of intrigue.
"Hangman," Bradley said, his tone carefully neutral. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight."
"What can I say, Rooster? I'm full of surprises," Hangman replied, his eyes never leaving Nichole. "And who's this lovely lady you've been keeping all to yourself?"
Nichole raised an eyebrow, amused by the obvious rivalry between the two pilots. She decided to take control of the situation.
"Nick," she said, extending her hand to Hangman. "And I assure you, no one's keeping me to themselves."
Hangman's grin widened as he took her hand, holding it a fraction longer than necessary. "Jake Seresin," he introduced himself, his voice dropping to a silky timbre. "Though most people just call me Hangman."
"Let me guess," Nichole said, withdrawing her hand with deliberate slowness. "Because you've left a trail of broken hearts hanging."
Jake laughed, a rich sound that seemed to vibrate through her. "That's one theory. I prefer to keep people guessing about the origin story."
Bradley shifted his weight, the movement subtle but enough to remind them both of his presence. "Hangman here is one of our squadron's more... memorable pilots."
"What Rooster means," Jake interjected, leaning closer to Nichole, "is that I'm the best damn pilot in the program."
"Second best," Bradley corrected with practiced calm, though Nichole noticed the slight tightening around his eyes.
"Is that what they're teaching you in those simulators now?" Jake shot back, his smile never wavering even as the barb hit its mark.
Nichole suppressed a smile, watching the two men circle each other verbally. Their rivalry had the well-worn feel of something that had been simmering for years. She folded her arms over her chest, leaning back slightly as though preparing to enjoy the show.
"Nichole raised her beer in a mock toast, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced between the two pilots. 'Now, now, boys, let's not make it a competition... unless there's a trophy involved.'
Jake's eyes darkened at her double entendre, a flash of heat passing between them that made her pulse quicken. "I'd be happy to give you a personal demonstration sometime."
"I bet you would," Nichole replied, her voice dropping to match his. She took another slow sip of her beer, letting her lips linger on the glass’s edge.
Bradley cleared his throat. "Nick was just telling me she knows her way around an F/A-18."
Jake's interest visibly heightened, his posture shifting subtly toward her. "Is that right? Aviation enthusiast or something more?"
Nichole shrugged, enjoying the power of withholding. "Let's just say I've spent my life around flyboys. Takes more than a call sign to impress me."
The band struck their first chord outside, the vibration of bass pulsing through the wooden floorboards. The deck was beginning to fill with patrons, their silhouettes backlit by the string lights Penny had hung earlier that day.
"Dance with me," Jake said suddenly, the request carrying the weight of a command.
Jake’s words hung in the air, charged and deliberate. Nichole blinked, the faintest trace of surprise flickering in her eyes before a slow smile curved her lips. Bold move, she thought, her fingers tracing the rim of her beer bottle as if weighing her stien. She let the silence stretch, savoring the tension, before Bradley cleared his throat behind her.
"We were in the middle of a conversation, Hangman." Bradley's jaw tightened.
"Were we?" Jake's eyes never left hers.
“I'll dance with you but only if Bradley can join us.” She admitted, not wanting to choose between either man.
Jake's eyes widened slightly, his confident smirk faltering for just a moment before he recovered. "Both of us? That's...a first."
"I'm an unconventional girl," Nichole replied, setting her beer down with deliberate precision. "Besides, I've always believed in equal opportunity."
Bradley's expression was unreadable, but something flickered behind his hazel eyes—surprise, curiosity, perhaps even a hint of desire. "I don't think that's—"
"Afraid you can't keep up, Rooster?" Jake challenged, already extending his hand to Nichole.
The band had shifted into something with a heavy, insistent beat that seemed to match the sudden tension between the three of them. Nichole slid off her barstool, her movements liquid and confident.
"Coming, Bradley?" she asked over her shoulder, already being led toward the crowd.
Seeing the look she gave him he didn't think twice and followed after her and Jake.
On the way outside Nichole stopped when saw one of the bar workers passing out complimentary shots on a big tray. She picked up three shot glasses of tequila, one for each of them. The worker gave her a knowing smile before moving on to pass out more drinks.
Nichole handed a shot to each of the pilots, her fingers brushing against theirs deliberately. "To new adventures," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, raising her glass.
Jake and Bradley exchanged a glance for a few moments before clinking their shots together with Nichole's. The tequila burned a path down their throats, setting the tone for what promised to be an interesting night. Nichole shook her head, letting the alcohol warm her body.
As they stepped onto the crowded deck, the music enveloped them. Nichole moved between the two men, her body swaying to the rhythm. She reached back, grabbing Bradley's hand to pull him closer while maintaining eye contact with Jake.
"Let's see if you flyboys can keep up," she challenged, her voice barely audible over the music.
Jake's hands found her hips, his touch confident and possessive. Bradley hesitated for a moment before placing his hands on her waist.
Nichole felt the heat of their bodies pressing against her as she moved to the pulsing beat. The tequila warmed her veins, lowering her inhibitions just enough to make this deliciously dangerous. She rolled her hips, feeling Jake's grip tighten in response. Behind her, Bradley's breath hitched as she pressed back against him.
The song shifted, the tempo increasing. Nichole raised her arms, letting her fingers trail along Jake's jawline before reaching back to tangle in Bradley's hair. She could feel the tension radiating off both men, their rivalry momentarily forgotten as they focused solely on her.
"You're playing with fire, Nick," Jake murmured in her ear, his lips brushing against her skin.
She turned her head, meeting his intense gaze as her pulse quickened. "Maybe I like getting burned," she replied, her voice husky.
Bradley's hands slid further up her waist, his fingers spreading possessively across her abdomen. The boldness of his touch surprised her, sending a delicious shiver up her spine.
"You should know," he murmured against her ear, his voice low and unexpectedly commanding as his mustache gently tickled her skin, "that we take our competitions very seriously."
Nichole turned her head slightly, catching the dangerous glint in his eyes. This steady, controlled pilot had depths she hadn't anticipated. The revelation sent a rush of heat through her core. She allowed Jake to twirl her around before pressing herself further into Bradley. Almost grinding against him.
"Is that what this is now?" she asked, deliberately rolling her hips between them. "A competition?"
Jake's laugh was dark and promising as his hands trailed up her sides, fingertips just grazing the curve of her breasts. "Everything between Rooster and me is a competition, sweetheart. The question is—" his lips brushed against her neck, "—
"—who are you going to declare the winner?"
Nichole's breath caught at Jake's bold words and Bradley's firm grip. She was acutely aware of being sandwiched between two powerful, competitive men, their bodies moving in sync with hers to the pulsing beat. The air around them felt electric, charged with an intoxicating mix of rivalry and desire.
"Bold of you to assume I'll choose just one," Nichole purred, tilting her head to give Jake better access to her neck while pressing back against Bradley's solid chest making him readjust his stance. "Maybe I want to see how you both perform."
Bradley's fingers flexed against her stomach, his touch searing through the thin fabric of her tank top. "Careful what you wish for," he warned, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
Another bartender was walking nearby with a tray full of tequila shots. Nichole gave the woman a knowing look, beckoning her to her.
Jake's lips curved into a wicked smile against her skin. "—oh, I think she knows exactly what she's asking for," Jake finished, reaching past Nichole to snag three more shots from the passing tray.
The bartender gave them a sly smile before disappearing back into the crowd. Jake handed a shot to Nichole, his fingers lingering against hers, then passed one to Bradley with a challenging look.
"To performance reviews," Jake said with a smirk, raising his glass.
Nichole's lips curved into a smile as she clinked her glass against both of theirs. "May the best man... or men... win."
They downed the shots in unison, the tequila burning a familiar path down her throat as before. She closed her eyes letting herself savor the way the liquid felt going down her esophagus.
The music seemed to intensify, the bass thrumming through her body as she resumed dancing between them.
Nichole felt the tequila hitting her system, amplifying the heat radiating from the two men pressed against her. She let her inhibitions slip away, losing herself in the pulsing rhythm and the electric tension between them.
Her hands roamed freely now, one reaching back to grip Bradley's neck while the other traced the firm planes of Jake's chest. She could feel their breathing grow heavier, their touches becoming bolder with each passing moment.
Jake's lips found her pulse point, teeth grazing lightly against her sensitive skin. A soft gasp escaped her, encouraging him further. Not to be outdone, Bradley's hands slid lower, fingers hooking into the belt loops of her jeans and pulling her hips back against him.
The competitive energy between the two pilots was palpable, each trying to outdo the other in their attentions to Nichole. She reveled in it, playing them off each other.
"You boys certainly know how to make a girl feel appreciated," Nichole purred, arching her back to press herself more firmly against Bradley's chest. One of her hands moving to casually brush against Jake's crotch.
"So what's it going to be, Nick?" Jake's voice was rough against her ear due to casual sensation, his breath hot on her skin. "His place or mine?"
Nichole laughed, the sound low and throaty as she turned in their embrace, somehow managing to keep both men close. "Aren't you two getting ahead of yourselves?" she teased, though her eyes told a different story.
Bradley's gaze darkened as he watched her, his usual restraint wavering. "Maybe. But something tells me you've already made up your mind."
She looked between them, her green eyes glittering with mischief in the string lights overhead. She noticed a flicker of vulnerability in Bradley's eyes. As if he felt she wouldn't choose him.
The band had shifted to something slower now, the sultry notes wrapping around them like a caress.
"I have. I decided we should get another round of shots.” She smirked.
Jake groaned, his hands tightening possessively on her hips. "You're a tease," he accused, but his eyes sparkled with appreciation for her game.
"Not teasing if I plan to follow through," Nichole countered, stepping out of their embrace but catching both their hands. "I just believe in... thorough evaluation."
Bradley's laugh was unexpected—deep and genuine. "Careful, Hangman. I think we've met our match."
They gripped her hands as they made their way back to the bar, the crowd parting for them as if sensing the charged energy between the trio. Penny caught Nichole's eye from behind the bar, raising an eyebrow at the sight of her flanked by the two clearly interested pilots. Nichole responded with a subtle wink that made Penny shake her head in amused disbelief.
"Three tequilas," Nichole called over the loud music. “Hell make it six.”
"Six it is," Penny replied with a knowing look, lining up the shot glasses and filling them with golden liquid. "You sure you know what you're doing, honey?"
"Never been more sure of anything," Nichole answered, her voice carrying a confidence that made both men shift closer to her.
Jake leaned against the bar, his body angled toward her. "So, Nick," he said, rolling her name across his tongue like he was tasting it, "what exactly does this thorough evaluation of yours entail?"
Bradley's eyes never left her face, his quiet intensity a counterpoint to Jake's open challenge.
Nichole picked up two shots, handing one to each pilot. "First test—following instructions." She lifted her own shot glass. "These two are for drinking. The next two..." She leaned in, lowering her voice so only they could hear, "I'm thinking body shots.”
Jake's eyes darkened with desire, while Bradley's expression remained carefully controlled, though Nichole noticed his pupils dilate at her suggestion.
"Body shots," Jake repeated, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes widened slightly with pleasant surprise. " Finally, something I can get behind."
"Question is," Bradley said, his composed demeanor belied by the intensity in his gaze, "who's going to be the canvas?"
Nichole downed her shot, relishing the burn as she set the empty glass on the bar with deliberate precision. "Me first," she decided, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Then we'll see about taking turns."
Jake and Bradley exchanged a look—half challenge, half something deeper that Nichole couldn't quite decipher. They knocked back their shots simultaneously, neither breaking eye contact with the other.
Penny slid the remaining three shots toward them, a hint of amusement playing across her features.
Nichole gave the boys a playful wink before she hopped up onto the bar, her movements fluid despite the tequila coursing through her system. She lay back, the cool wood pressing against her skin as she lifted the hem of her tank top, exposing a strip of toned stomach.
She felt completely exhilarated as she looked up at both men. A rush of heat cursing through her veins.
"Who's first?" she challenged, her voice husky with anticipation.
Jake stepped forward, his eyes raking over her body. "Ladies' choice," he said, his trademark smirk in place.
Nichole smirked before her gaze flicked to Bradley, noting the way his jaw clenched as he watched them. There was slight hesitation etched across his features. "What do you say, Bradley? Care to show us how it's done?"
Bradley hesitated for a split second before moving closer, his usual reserve cracking under the weight of desire. He took the shot glass, his fingers brushing against hers deliberately.
"Hold still," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.
Nichole shivered as Bradley's warm breath ghosted across her exposed skin. With extreme slowness, he poured the tequila into the shallow dip of her navel, his steady hand never wavering. Their eyes locked as he leaned down, his lips just brushing her stomach as he lapped up the liquid.
A soft gasp escaped her as his tongue swirled against her skin, taking his time to ensure he didn't miss a drop. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with barely restrained hunger.
"Your turn, Hangman," Bradley said, his voice rough as he stepped back.
Jake didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed the next shot, his movements more aggressive than Bradley's as he poured the tequila onto Nichole's stomach. She arched slightly at the cool sensation, earning a low growl from Jake.
Jake dipped his head, his lips and tongue making contact with Nichole's skin in a searing caress. Unlike Bradley's methodical approach, Jake was all passion and urgency, his teeth grazing her flesh as he lapped up the tequila. Nichole couldn't suppress the moan that escaped her lips, her body arching into his touch.
When Jake finally pulled away, his eyes were dark with desire. "Damn," he breathed, his voice husky.
Nichole sat up slowly, her skin tingling where their mouths had been. She could feel the heat of their gazes on her, the air thick with tension and unspoken promises.
"My turn," she announced, sliding off the bar with feline grace. She picked up the last shot, her eyes moving between the two pilots. "Shirts off, boys. Let's see who makes the better canvas."
Jake didn't hesitate, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion to reveal a muscled torso. Bradley followed suit a moment later, his movements more measured but no less enticing as he stripped off Hawaiian shirt followed by his white wife beater.
Nichole's eyes roamed appreciatively over both men's sculpted physiques. "Well, well," she purred. "Looks like all those flight hours pay off in more ways than one."
She approached Jake first, the shot glass held delicately between her fingers. With deliberate slowness, she poured a thin line of tequila along his collarbone, watching as it trickled down his chest.
Jake's breath hitched as Nichole leaned in, her lips brushing against his skin as she licked a path along the tequila trail. She took her time, savoring the salt of his skin mixed with the burn of the alcohol.
Nichole's tongue continued to trace a slow, deliberate path along Jake's collarbone, following the trail of tequila down his chest. She could feel his muscles tense under her touch, his breathing growing ragged. When she reached the end of the liquor's path, she placed a light nip on his pec, eliciting a low groan from Jake.
She pulled back, her eyes dark with desire as she met his heated gaze. "Not bad, Hangman," she murmured, her voice husky. "But let's see how Rooster measures up."
Turning to Bradley, Nichole saw the barely contained hunger in his eyes. His usual composure was cracking, replaced by an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She approached him slowly, the remaining tequila sloshing in the shot glass.
With calculated precision, she poured the golden liquid into the hollow at the base of Bradley's throat, watching intently as it pooled there before trickling down the defined planes of his chest. Unlike Jake's eagerness, Bradley stood perfectly still, his control evident in every taut muscle.
Nichole leaned in, her lips hovering just above his skin. "Let's see what you're made of, Rooster," she whispered before her tongue dipped into the hollow of his throat.
Bradley's sharp intake of breath was the only indication that her actions affected him. His hands remained at his sides, though she could see his fingers curling into fists as she slowly licked the trail of tequila down his chest. When she reached his sternum, she looked up at him through her lashes, purposefully maintaining eye contact as her tongue made one final, lingering sweep across his skin. She let one of her hands move to slide down his chest. Loving the feel of his toned body underneath her small hand.
Both men were equally attractive in there own ways. But one thing they had in common was how horny they were making her.
"Jesus," he muttered, his voice strained.
Nichole straightened, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she observed both pilots' reactions. The tequila had left her pleasantly buzzed, her inhibitions falling away like autumn leaves.
Three more shots were placed on the bar. They were probably for someone else but she didn't care. Nick passed one to both men, leaving the third for herself. She quickly downed it causing the two pilots to follow suit. She the watched them for a moment, loving the way they practically worshiped her with there eyes.
"I think," she said, her voice low and sultry, "that further evaluation requires a more... private setting."
Jake's eyes darkened with desire. "My place is ten minutes from here."
"Mine's closer," Bradley countered, the competition between them intensifying.
Nichole laughed, the sound rich and full of promise. "Boys, boys," she chided, trailing her fingers down both their chests. "Why choose?"
Their expressions shifted simultaneously, surprise giving way to intrigue as they processed her meaning.
"You're suggesting..." Bradley began, his usually composed voice rough with want.
"Both of us?" Jake finished, his trademark cockiness momentarily replaced by genuine surprise.
Nichole's lips curved into a wicked smile as she traced a finger along Bradley's jawline and then Jake's. "What's the matter, flyboys? Can't handle a little... unconventional mission?"
The challenge in her voice was unmistakable, hanging in the air between them like a gauntlet thrown. For a moment, the two rivals exchanged a loaded glance—something unspoken passing between them that transcended their usual competition.
Jake recovered first, his trademark smirk sliding back into place. "Sweetheart, there's nothing I can't handle," he drawled, moving closer until his chest brushed against her back.
Bradley's eyes darkened, his gaze intense as he stepped forward, effectively sandwiching Nichole between them once more. "You sure about this, Nick?" he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Her answer was to reach up and pull Bradley's face down to hers, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt about her intentions. He responded immediately, one hand tangling in her dark hair while the other gripped her hip possessively.
Jake growled behind her, his lips finding the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth grazed her skin, sending shivers cascading down her spine as his hands slid around her waist.
When Nichole finally broke the kiss with Bradley, she was breathing hard, her pupils dilated with desire. She turned her head, meeting Jake's hungry gaze before pulling him into an equally passionate kiss. Bradley's lips moved to her exposed neck, his controlled demeanor giving way to something primal.
"So," she breathed when she finally pulled away from Jake, "whose place is it going to be?"
"Mine," they answered in unison.
Nick laughed. “We'll go to my place. I have a California king bed.” She winked.
Both men paused, exchanging glances that contained equal parts surprise and competitive interest.
"Your place it is," Bradley said, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made heat pool in Nichole's belly.
Jake's fingers traced patterns along her hip. "Lead the way, sweetheart."
Nichole grinned wildly before she disentangled herself from between them, immediately missing their heat. Both men grabbed there discarded clothes and immediately put them on. She grabbed her jacket from the barstool and caught Penny's knowing look from behind the bar. The older woman raised an eyebrow that clearly said "be careful," but there was no judgment in her expression—just concern wrapped in understanding.
Nichole gave her a subtle nod before turning back to the pilots. "My car's out front."
Both men said no at the same time.
“I'll order us an Uber.” Jake insisted.
With the alcohol they had tonight it was wise that neither one of them drive.
Nichole grinned at their synchronized response. "Smart boys. Uber it is."
Jake already had his phone out, fingers moving across the screen. "Seven minutes," he announced, his eyes never leaving her face.
The anticipation between them crackled like electricity as they made their way to the exit. Nichole felt Bradley's hand at the small of her back, a possessive gesture that Jake quickly mirrored on her opposite side. The competing touches sent delicious shivers up her spine.
Outside, the cool night air did little to dampen the heat building between them. They stood in the parking lot, the string lights from the deck casting them in a soft glow. Nichole found herself sandwiched between them again, Bradley in front of her, Jake behind, their bodies creating a cocoon of warmth and mounting desire.
"Second thoughts?" Bradley murmured, his eyes searching hers.
Nichole shook her head, her green eyes gleaming with certainty. "Not a single one," she replied, running her hands up Bradley's chest. "Though I am wondering which one of you is going to take charge." She said slow walking her fingers up Jake's chest.
Jake's laugh was low and dangerous against her ear. “Sweetheart, you’re in good hands.”
The intensity in Bradley's gaze deepened, something primal emerging from beneath his controlled exterior. "We might be rivals in the air," he said, his voice dropping to a commanding timbre that made her pulse quicken, "but we know how to work together when the mission requires it."
The Uber's headlights swept across them, illuminating the three figures locked in their intimate tableau. Reluctantly, they separated, though Jake's hand remained firmly at the small of her back as they approached the vehicle.
The ride to Nichole's place was charged with tension, and it didn't help when she placed a hand on each of there legs.
The car ride was a delicious kind of torture. Nichole sat between them in the back seat, the tight quarters forcing their thighs to press against hers. Every bump in the road pushed them closer together, creating friction that had nothing to do with the vehicle's suspension.
She kept her hands on their legs, fingers occasionally tracing small circles that inched higher with each passing minute. Jake's arm draped across the back of the seat, his fingertips brushing Bradley's shoulder in what might have seemed accidental if not for the loaded glance they exchanged above her head.
Nichole softly started to sing to a song that came on the car's radio, her voice impressively steady despite Bradley's hand finding its way to her inner thigh, his touch firm and possessive. On her other side, Jake's lips brushed against her ear as he murmured, "You have a beautiful voice. I bet you make even prettier sounds in bed."
A shiver ran through her at his words, her breath catching slightly. She turned her head, meeting Jake's intense gaze. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" she challenged in a whisper.
Bradley's fingers flexed on her thigh, a subtle reminder of his presence. Nichole's other hand found his, intertwining their fingers as she held Jake's stare.
Nichole's fingers danced higher up their thighs, her touch deliberate and teasing. Bradley's breathing deepened while Jake's jaw tightened visibly. When the driver hit a pothole, she let her hand brush briefly against the growing bulge in Jake's pants, eliciting a barely suppressed groan.
"Behave," Bradley murmured in her ear, though his own hand had drifted dangerously high on her thigh.
"Where's the fun in that?" she whispered back, turning to meet his gaze with a challenging look.
The Uber pulled up to her building, a modern apartment complex with a view of the bay. As they stepped out, the cool night air did nothing to dampen the heat between them. Jake's hand found the small of her back as they walked toward the entrance, while Bradley stayed close on her other side.
In the elevator, the tension between them reached a fever pitch. As soon as the doors closed, Jake pressed Nichole against the mirrored wall, his lips crashing down on hers in a searing kiss. She responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.
Bradley watched for a moment, his eyes dark with desire, before stepping forward. His hand cupped the back of Nichole's neck, gently but firmly turning her face away from Jake and towards him. His kiss was slower, more controlled, but no less passionate.
Nichole moaned softly into Bradley's mouth as Jake's lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. She was acutely aware of being sandwiched between their hard bodies, the heat of their desire palpable in the small space.
The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival at her floor. They broke apart, all three breathing heavily. Nichole's eyes were dark with desire as she looked between the two pilots.
"Last chance to back out, boys," she said, her voice husky.
Jake's trademark smirk returned. "Not a chance in hell, sweetheart."
Bradley's response was more subtle - a slight tightening of his jaw and an intensity in his gaze that sent shivers down Nichole's spine.
She led them down the hallway, fumbling slightly with her keys as she reached her door. The anticipation was making her hands shake. Finally, she got the door open and stepped inside, flicking on the lights.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Jake spun her around, pressing her against the door as his lips found hers in a hungry kiss. Bradley moved behind her, his hands sliding under her tank top to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. Her jacket that she was holding fell from her hand with a semi loud thud to the floor.
Nichole moaned into Jake's mouth as Bradley's fingers traced up her ribcage, grazing the underside of her breasts. She arched her back, pressing herself more firmly against Bradley's chest while pulling Jake closer by his belt loops.
Jake broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looked over her shoulder at Bradley. Some unspoken communication passed between them, and suddenly Nichole found herself being lifted, Jake's hands under her thighs as he carried her towards the bedroom.
Bradley followed close behind, already taking off his button up shirt. As Jake set Nichole down on the edge of the bed, Bradley knelt in front of her, his hands running up her jean-clad thighs with intentional slowness. His eyes, usually so controlled, now burned with undisguised hunger.
"Been thinking about this since I first saw you at the bar," Bradley murmured, his fingers finding the button of her jeans.
Jake moved behind her, his chest pressing against her back as his hands slid under her tank top. "For once, I agree with Rooster," he said, his voice rough against her ear. "Sweetheart,my thoughts would make you blush."
Nichole laughed, the sound turning into a gasp as Bradley popped open the button of her jeans and slowly dragged the zipper down. "Care to share those thoughts, Hangman?" she challenged, tilting her had. “Because if you think I'd blush at yours, I'd love to see what you’d do with mine.” She said as she dragged a finger a long his jawline.
Jake's lips curved into a wicked smile against her neck. "Let's just say they involve seeing how many times we can make you come tonight."
Nichole's breath hitched as Bradley's fingers hooked into the waistband of her jeans, tugging them down her hips with agonizing slowness. The cool air kissed her exposed skin, making her shiver—or perhaps it was the hungry look in his eyes as he revealed her black lace underwear.
"I like the way you think," she purred, lifting her hips to help Bradley remove her jeans completely.
As Bradley tossed her jeans aside, Jake's hands slid under her tank top, his calloused palms rough against her smooth skin as they moved upward. In one fluid motion, he pulled the garment over her head, leaving her in just her matching black bra and panties.
Both men paused, drinking in the sight of Nichole's toned body clad only in black lace. Jake's hands skimmed down her sides, his touch feather-light and teasing. Bradley's eyes darkened as he took in every curve, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties with exaggerated slowness.
"Beautiful," Bradley murmured, his voice rough with desire.
Jake hummed in agreement, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind Nichole's ear. "Absolutely stunning," he added, his breath hot against her skin.
Nichole arched into their touches, her body thrumming with anticipation. "You two are wearing far too many clothes," she observed, her voice husky.
As if on cue, both men began to undress. Jake stepped back, quickly shedding his remaining clothes. Bradley stood, his movements more measured but no less urgent as undressed. He then kneeled on the bed and leaned forward.
Bradley's fingers brushed against the clasp of her bra, unhooking it with practiced ease. As the lace fell away, Jake's hands cupped her breasts from behind, his thumbs grazing over her hardened nipples.
"Fuck," Bradley muttered, his composure slipping as he watched Jake's hands on her. The rivalry between them transformed into something different—a shared mission to unravel her completely.
Nichole gasped as Bradley dropped to his knees again, his lips trailing hot kisses across her stomach while Jake continued his ministrations. Their choreographed movements suggested they'd done this before, though she doubted they'd ever shared a woman quite like her.
"Bed," she commanded breathlessly. "Now."
They complied immediately, Jake lifting her with surprising gentleness while Bradley pulled back the covers. As they laid her down, Nichole got her first
unobstructed view of both men fully naked. Their bodies were sculpted by years of rigorous training—Jake leaner and more wiry, Bradley with broader shoulders and a more solid build. Both equally impressive in their arousal.
"Like what you see?" Jake asked, his trademark cockiness returning as he noticed her appreciative gaze.
"Very much," Nichole purred, beckoning them both toward her. "Now come here and show me what those pilot hands can do."
Bradley reached her first, his body covering hers as he captured her lips in a searing kiss. His weight pressed her into the mattress, the delicious pressure making her arch up against him. Jake moved to her side, his lips finding her breast while his hand slid down her stomach.
Bradley's mouth moved from Nichole's lips to her neck, trailing hot kisses down her throat as Jake's tongue circled her nipple. She moaned, arching into their touch, her hands gripping Bradley's shoulders.
"God, you taste good," Bradley murmured against her collarbone, his usual restraint crumbling with each passing second.
Jake's hand slid lower, fingers tracing the edge of her lace panties before dipping beneath the fabric. He groaned at the wetness he found there. "So ready for us," he said, his voice rough with desire.
Nichole gasped as Jake's fingers found her center, circling with deliberate slowness. Bradley captured her moan with his mouth, kissing her deeply as his hand joined Jake's exploration, tugging her panties down her legs.
"Tell us what you want, Nick," Bradley commanded, his voice dropping to that authoritative tone that sent shivers racing down her spine.
Nichole arched into their touch, her body aflame with desire. "Everything," she breathed, her green eyes dark with need as she looked between them. "I want everything you both have to give."
Jake's fingers continued their torturous exploration, circling her center with expert precision. "Be specific, sweetheart," he urged, his trademark smirk playing across his lips as he watched her reaction. "We're pilots. We need clear instructions."
Bradley's hand joined Jake's, his touch more deliberate, more controlled. The contrast between their styles—Jake's intuitive intensity versus Bradley's methodical precision—was driving her wild.
"I want your mouth," she gasped, locking eyes with Bradley. His pupils dilated at her command. “And I want you in mine.”
Bradley's eyes darkened at Nichole's command. Without hesitation, he moved down her body, trailing hot kisses along her stomach as he positioned himself between her thighs. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as his mouth found her center.
Nichole gasped at the first touch of his tongue, her back arching off the bed. Jake watched with heated interest, his hand stroking her hair as Bradley worked her with his mouth.
"That's it, sweetheart," Jake murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Let us hear how good it feels."
As if on cue, Nichole let out a low moan, her fingers tangling in Bradley's hair. Jake took the opportunity to shift, positioning himself so that his hardness was level with her face.
"My turn," he said with a smirk, his hand cupping her cheek.
Nichole turned her head, her lips parting to welcome Jake as Bradley's tongue continued its relentless assault on her senses. She took Jake into her mouth, moaning around him as Bradley hit a particularly sensitive spot.
"Fuck," Jake hissed, his hand tightening in her hair. "Your mouth is even better than I imagined."
The dual sensations were overwhelming—Bradley's methodical, precise attention between her thighs and Jake's controlled thrusts between her lips. Nichole felt herself spiraling toward the edge, her body tensing as pleasure built within her.
Bradley sensed her approaching climax, his pace increasing as his hands gripped her thighs more firmly. Jake watched her face intently, his own pleasure evident in the tightening of his jaw and the quickening of his breath.
"That's it," Jake encouraged, his voice strained. "Let go for us Nick.”
Nichole's body trembled as the wave of pleasure crested. She cried out around Jake, her back arching off the bed as Bradley's relentless attention pushed her over the edge. Waves of ecstasy coursed through her, intensified by the dual sensations of Bradley's mouth and Jake's hardness between her lips.
Jake groaned, pulling back slightly as he watched her come undone. "Fuck, that's hot," he muttered, his hand gentle in her hair as she rode out her orgasm.
Bradley didn't let up, his tongue working her through the aftershocks until Nichole tugged at his hair, overwhelmed by the intensity. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, lips glistening.
"God, you're beautiful when you come," Bradley said, his voice rough as he moved up her body.
Nichole pulled him down for a deep kiss, tasting herself on his lips as Jake watched with hooded eyes. The intensity between them shifted, the rivalry between the pilots temporarily forgotten as they focused entirely on her pleasure.
When she broke the kiss with Bradley, Jake immediately claimed her mouth, his tongue teasing hers as Bradley's hands continued to explore her body. She moaned into Jake's mouth as Bradley's fingers found her center again, still sensitive from her orgasm.
"You ready for more?" Bradley murmured against her neck, his voice carrying that commanding edge that made her shiver.
"God, yes," Nichole breathed, her body already responding to their touches. "I want you both."
Jake pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting Bradley's over her body. Something unspoken passed between them—a silent negotiation born of their competitive history.
"How do you want us?" Jake asked, his voice husky.
“At the same time.”
The words hung in the air between them, electric and charged with possibility. Jake's breath caught audibly while Bradley's eyes darkened to almost black.
"You sure about that?" Bradley asked, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made heat pool in her belly.
Nichole's eyes glittered with challenge as she looked between them. "What's the matter, flyboys? Too advanced a maneuver for you?"
Jake recovered first, his trademark cocky grin sliding back into place. "Sweetheart, there's no maneuver I can't handle." His hand trailed down her stomach, fingers dipping between her thighs to find her still wet and ready. "The question is, can you?"
Bradley watched Jake's fingers work their magic, making Nichole arch and gasp. Rather than competing, he seemed to be studying, learning her responses. When he finally spoke, his voice was pure velvet command.
"On your hands and knees, Nick."
The authoritative tone sent shivers down her spine. Nichole complied eagerly, positioning herself in the center of the bed. Jake moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he lined himself up. Bradley knelt in front of her, one hand cupping her cheek as the other guided himself to her lips.
"Ready?" Jake asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
Nichole nodded, her eyes locked on Bradley's as she opened her mouth to take him in. Jake pushed into her slowly, giving her time to adjust to the fullness. She moaned around Bradley, the vibrations making him groan in response. Jake's grip on her hips tightened as he began to move, setting a pace that was slow and deliberate at first, allowing her to adjust to the sensation.
"God, you feel amazing," Jake breathed, his usual cockiness replaced by genuine awe. His thumbs traced circles on her lower back as he gradually increased his tempo.
Bradley's hand tangled in her dark hair, guiding her movements as she took him deeper. His usual composure was cracking, replaced by raw desire as he watched her lips stretch around him.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice strained. "Just like that, Nick."
The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure—Jake's low groans, Bradley's controlled breathing, and Nichole's muffled moans. The competitive energy between the two pilots had transformed into something more collaborative, both men working in tandem to drive Nichole wild. Jake's thrusts grew more powerful, his fingers digging into her hips as he found the perfect angle. Bradley's hand remained gentle in her hair, guiding but never forcing as he matched his movements to hers.
Nichole was overwhelmed by the dual sensations, her body caught between them in the most delicious way. Each thrust from Jake pushed her forward onto Bradley, creating a rhythm that had her teetering on the edge of another climax.
"So good," Jake murmured, his voice strained as he fought to maintain control. "You're taking us both so well, sweetheart."
Bradley's composure was slipping, his breathing growing ragged as Nichole took him deeper. "Look at me," he commanded softly.
She raised her eyes to meet Bradley's intense gaze, the intimacy of the moment striking her even in the midst of their passionate encounter. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was something else there too - a tenderness that made her heart skip.
"You're incredible," Bradley murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek.
Jake's pace increased, driving Nichole closer to the edge. She moaned around Bradley, the vibrations making him groan in response. The tension was building, a coiling heat in her core that threatened to overwhelm her. Jake shifted slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts, and suddenly stars exploded behind her eyes.
"That's it," Jake encouraged, his voice strained.
Bradley's hand tightened in her hair, not painfully, but enough to ground her as the sensations threatened to sweep her away. "We've got you," he assured her, his voice rough with desire.
"I think she's close," Jake said
"I can feel it," Bradley replied, his voice strained as Nichole's mouth worked him with increasing desperation. Her body trembled between them, caught in the perfect storm of sensation.
Jake's rhythm faltered slightly as he leaned forward, his chest pressing against Nichole's back. "Come for us, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear as one hand slid around to find her center. "Let us feel you fall apart."
The added stimulation was too much. Nichole's body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing through her as she came hard around Jake. She moaned around Bradley, the vibrations pulling a deep groan from him as his control slipped further.
"Fuck," Jake hissed, his pace becoming erratic as Nichole's body pulsed around him. "So fucking good."
Bradley gently pulled back, allowing Nichole to catch her breath as she rode out the intense waves of her orgasm. Jake's movements slowed, his hands caressing her back as she trembled between them.
"You okay?" Bradley asked softly, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.
Nichole nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. "More than okay," she managed, her voice husky.
Jake carefully eased out of her, eliciting a small whimper at the loss. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade. "You're incredible," he murmured, his usual cockiness replaced by genuine awe.
Bradley helped Nichole shift onto her back, his hands gentle as he arranged her comfortably on the bed. Jake stretched out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow to watch her face.
"Give me a minute," Nichole said.
Nichole took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath between the two pilots. Their heated gazes raked over her body, neither man fully satiated despite the intensity of what they'd just shared.
"A minute is all you get," Jake murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across her stomach. His trademark cockiness had softened into something more intimate, though the hunger in his eyes remained unmistakable.
Bradley stretched out on her other side, his usual controlled demeanor returning as he watched her with those intense hazel eyes. "No rush," he countered, shooting Jake a pointed look over her body. "We've got all night."
Nichole laughed softly, the sound husky from exertion. "Look at you two, still competing even now." She turned her head to press a kiss to Bradley's jaw, then did the same to Jake. "For the record, you're both winners in my book."
Jake's trademark smirk returned, though it was softened by a genuine warmth in his eyes. "High praise coming from you, sweetheart." His hand continued its lazy exploration of her body, tracing the curve of her hip.
Bradley's lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes never leaving her face. "I think we can agree on that," he murmured, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
The tension in the room had shifted, the frantic energy of their earlier encounter giving way to something slower, more deliberate. Nichole could feel the heat building again, she stirred under their touch, her body responding despite the lingering sensitivity from her earlier climaxes. Her minute was up, and both men seemed to realize it simultaneously. Bradley's hand drifted lower, tracing the curve of her breast with intentional slowness, while Jake's fingers skimmed along her inner thigh.
"My turn," Bradley murmured, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made her shiver.
“You know when I said I wanted both of you at the same time I was thinking more along the lines of double penetration. But this is good too.”
Jake's eyes darkened at her bold words, his breath catching audibly. Bradley went completely still beside her,
His typical calm demeanor briefly broke as he absorbed her suggestion.
"Jesus, Nick," Jake finally managed, his voice rough with desire. "You don't hold back, do you?"
A slow, wicked smile spread across Nichole's face as she propped herself up on her elbows, looking between the two pilots. "Life's too short for holding back," she purred. "Besides, I thought you flyboys were up for any challenge."
Bradley's expression shifted, that controlled exterior giving way to something primal as his eyes met Jake's over her body. Another silent communication passed between them—rivalry temporarily set aside in favor of mutual appreciation for the woman between them.
"Well I think we're up for the challenge don't you Hangman?" Bradley asked, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that sent heat pooling in her core.
Jake's eyes flashed with a mixture of challenge and desire. "Oh, I'm definitely up for it, Rooster," he said, the familiar competitive edge creeping back into his voice. His hand slid boldly up Nichole's thigh. "Question is, how do you want us, sweetheart?"
Nichole's breath quickened as she considered the possibilities. The tequila still buzzed pleasantly through her system, lowering her inhibitions just enough to make her bold suggestion seem like the most natural thing in the world.
"I want you here," she said, reaching for Jake and guiding his hand between her legs. "And Bradley..." She turned her heated gaze to him. "I want you here." Her free hand bring Rooster's to lay next to Jake's.
Jake's eyes darkened at her touch, his breath catching as understanding dawned. "Fuck," he muttered, the word more reverent than crude. Bradley's composure slipped further, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of hazel remained.
"You sure about this?" Bradley asked, his voice rough with desire but still carrying that underlying concern that seemed intrinsic to his nature.
Nichole nodded, her green eyes gleaming with certainty. "Very sure," she replied, her voice husky. "I've thought about it before... just never found the right partners." Her gaze flickered between them. "Until now."
Jake recovered his trademark cockiness, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Well, we are the best pilots in the Navy. Only makes sense we'd excel at this too."
Bradley rolled his eyes at Jake's boast, but couldn't suppress a small smile.
"Alright, flyboys," Nichole purred, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Show me what you've got."
Jake and Bradley exchanged a loaded glance, years of rivalry and unspoken communication allowing them to wordlessly coordinate. Jake moved first, positioning himself behind Nichole as she knelt on the bed. His hands gripped her hips, steadying her as Bradley knelt in front of her.
Bradley cupped her face, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "We'll go slow," he promised, his voice low and intense. "Tell us if it's too much."
Nichole nodded, her breath quickening with anticipation. She felt Jake's hardness pressing against her from behind, while Bradley's hands guided her hips forward. The initial stretch as they both entered her simultaneously was intense, bordering on overwhelming. She gasped, her fingers digging into Bradley's shoulder.
"Breathe, sweetheart," Jake murmured against her neck, his usual cockiness replaced by genuine concern. "We've got you."
Nichole took a shaky breath, focusing on relaxing her muscles as they slowly filled her. The initial discomfort gave way to a delicious fullness that had her moaning softly.
"Is this okay?" Bradley asked, his eyes searching her face intently.
She nodded, unable to form words as she adjusted to the new sensations. Jake's hands caressed her sides soothingly while Bradley pressed soft kisses along her collarbone.
"God, you feel amazing," Jake breathed, his voice strained.
Nichole felt overwhelmed in the best possible way, caught between the two pilots as they filled her completely. The initial discomfort had faded, replaced by an intense pleasure that had her gasping for breath.
"Move," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please."
Jake and Bradley exchanged another look over her shoulder, before they both nodded. They started slow, Jake pulling back slightly as Bradley pushed forward, creating a rhythm that had Nichole seeing stars again.
"Fuck," she moaned, her head falling back against Jake's shoulder.
Bradley's hand cupped her cheek, guiding her gaze back to his. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was also an intensity there that made her breath catch. "Stay with us," he murmured, his voice rough.
Jake's lips found her neck, trailing hot kisses along her sensitive skin as his pace increased. The sensation of both men moving inside her was unlike anything Nichole had ever experienced—a delicious fullness that bordered on overwhelming. Bradley's eyes never left hers, practically melting her with her with his gaze.
"You're taking us so well," Bradley murmured, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his composure. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as Jake's fingers dug into her waist from behind.
"So fucking good," Jake groaned against her neck, his usual cockiness replaced by raw need. His teeth grazed her shoulder, sending shivers cascading down her spine.
Nichole felt suspended between them, caught in a perfect storm of sensation. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, building toward something that promised to be earth-shattering. She moaned, her body trembling as they found a perfect rhythm together.
"God, I'm close," she gasped, her fingers digging into Bradley's shoulders while Jake's grip tightened on her hips.
"Let go for us, sweetheart," Jake murmured, his voice rough against her ear. His movements became more urgent, more demanding as he felt her body tensing against his.
Bradley's hand slid between them, his fingers finding her center with unerring precision. "Come for us, Nick," he commanded, his usually controlled voice breaking with desire.
The added stimulation was too much. Nichole violently cried out, her body shattered between them, waves of pleasure crashing through her with an intensity that left her gasping for breath. Her vision blurred, every nerve ending alight as the most powerful orgasm of her life tore through her. She cried out, the sound raw and primal as Jake and Bradley continued their relentless pace.
"Fuck," Jake groaned, his rhythm faltering as Nichole's body pulsed around him. "I can't—"
Bradley wasn't far behind, his composure finally breaking completely as Nichole's climax triggered his own. His fingers dug into her hips, his usually controlled expression giving way to raw pleasure.
Jake followed a moment later, his body tensing against Nichole's back as he found his release. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her steady as they all rode out the waves of pleasure together.
For several moments, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing as they remained entangled, coming down from the intensity of their shared climax. Nichole felt boneless between them, supported only by Jake's arms around her waist and Bradley's steady grip on her hips.
"Holy shit," Jake finally managed, his voice muffled against Nichole's shoulder.
Bradley let out a shaky laugh, resting his forehead against Nichole's. "That's one way to put it," he agreed.
Nichole hummed in agreement, too blissed out to form coherent words. She felt Jake carefully ease out of her, eliciting a small whimper at the loss. Bradley followed suit, his movements gentle as he helped her lie back on the bed.
"You okay?" Bradley asked softly, brushing a lock of sweat-filled hair aside.
“…you seem to ask that a lot.” she giggled.
Jake slid to her side, his usual cocky demeanor softened by the aftermath of their shared ecstasy. "Can you blame him? That was..." He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words—a rarity for Hangman.
"Intense?" Nichole supplied, her voice deliciously raspy. She stretched languidly
between them like a satisfied cat. The pleasant ache in her muscles was a delicious reminder of what transpired tonight.
She was surprised that she enjoyed herself as much as she did. It caused a single thought to cross her mind and that was, that she could get use to this.
Bradley chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest where she rested against him. "That's putting it mildly." His fingers traced lazy patterns along her shoulder, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast to the commanding presence he'd embodied moments ago.
"I've gotta say," Jake murmured, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her, "when you walked into The Hard Deck tonight, this is not how I expected the evening to end."
Nichole laughed softly, the sound vibrating through her chest. "What, two rival pilots in my bed wasn't on your bingo card for tonight?"
Bradley's lips quirked into a small smile. "Definitely not on mine."
"Speaking of rivals," Jake said, his eyes meeting Bradley's over Nichole's body, "we might need to revisit our definition of competition."
"Truce?" Bradley suggested, his expression uncharacteristically open.
"At least in this arena," Jake agreed with his trademark smirk, though there was genuine warmth behind it.
Nichole watched the exchange with interest, fascinated by the shift in their dynamic. "So you two can play nice when properly motivated."
"Don't get used to it," Jake quipped, though his usual cockiness was tempered by a newfound warmth. "We've still got plenty to compete over in the air."
Bradley nodded in agreement, his fingers still tracing lazy patterns on Nichole's skin. "Though I have to admit, this kind of... collaboration has its merits."
Nichole hummed contentedly, luxuriating in the afterglow and the feeling of being sandwiched between two incredibly attractive pilots. "Well, boys," she purred, "if you ever feel like engaging in some more 'collaborative exercises,' you know where to find me."
Jake's eyes lit up with interest, while Bradley's expression became thoughtful.
"Careful what you wish for, sweetheart," Jake murmured, his hand sliding possessively over her hip. "We might just take you up on that offer."
She involuntarily yawned. “I have a spacious shower…maybe we can take our exercises there in the morning.”
Jake's eyes glinted with a mixture of exhaustion and renewed interest. "Morning showers, huh? I like how you think, Nick."
Bradley's arm tightened around her waist, his chest warm and solid against her back. "Get some rest first," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "We've got plenty of time."
Nichole smiled drowsily, her body pleasantly sore in all the right places. The tequila buzz had faded to a gentle warmth that, combined with post-orgasmic bliss, was quickly lulling her toward sleep. "Is that an order, Rooster?" she teased, her eyes already drifting closed.
"Consider it a strong recommendation," Bradley replied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
Jake reached over to pull the sheets across their entwined bodies.
“Because I was ready to say yes Sir and salute you. Nick giggled again.
Jake chuckled, his body vibrating against hers in a deliciously intimate way. "Maybe save the 'yes sir' for round two," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise against her ear. "I've got a feeling it'll come in handy."
Bradley's expression darkened with renewed interest, despite his obvious exhaustion. "I'm starting to think we've created a monster," he said, though the way his hand tightened on her hip suggested he didn't find this problematic at all.
"Please," Nichole scoffed, fighting another yawn. "The monster was already there. You two just happened to find the perfect key to unlock the cage."
Jake's trademark smirk returned as he settled more comfortably against her. "Lucky us."
“Lucky me.” Nichole murmured, her voice growing heavy with approaching sleep. She nestled deeper between them, savoring the warmth of their bodies on either side of her. Bradley's steady breathing behind her and Jake's arm draped possessively across her waist created a cocoon of satisfaction and security.
Bradley's lips brushed against the nape of her neck, the gesture surprisingly tender. "Sleep, Nick," he whispered, his commanding tone softened to something almost affectionate.
As she drifted toward unconsciousness, Nichole couldn't help but smile. What had started as a simple night out at her father's girlfriend's bar had evolved into something she'd never thought would happen.
She reached for Jake's hand that was around her and pulled it tighter to her stomach, loving the feeling of being held by not just one man but two men.
Author Notes: Hey y'all the moment is finally here! Jake is home! I didn't intend for this this chapter to be so long but my muse kinda got a way from me. But now that he's back what do you think is next for the trio? As always reblog or comment with your thoughts!
It was after eleven when Nick found herself in the kitchen, barefoot and restless.
Jake was coming home in the morning, and she wanted everything to be perfect—including the apple pie he had said was his favorite kind of pie. The scent of cinnamon and warm apples filled the air, grounding her in the moment even as her thoughts raced ahead.
She had just set the pie down to cool when she felt arms wrap around her waist—familiar, steady.
“What are you doing, baby?” Bradley murmured, his voice low and drowsy. “I’ve been waiting for you in bed.”
Nick leaned back into him, her thin sleep shirt no barrier to the warmth of his body. His chin rested lightly on her shoulder as he eyed the golden-brown pie.
“Making sure Jake has something sweet to come home to,” she said softly, placing her hands over his.
Bradley chuckled against her skin. “He’s got you for that, beautiful.”
She turned in his arms, smiling. “Smooth talker,” she teased, tracing the faint scar along his jawline. “But I think his homecoming deserves something extra special.”
“You need help with anything?”
“No,” she said, brushing flour from her fingers. “Everything’s all set.”
He hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Then come to bed. It’s late.”
Nick hesitated, glancing once more at the pie. “Just want to make sure it cools properly.”
Bradley’s arms tightened slightly. “The pie will be fine. Jake will love it. You’ve been running yourself ragged this week.”
She knew he was right. Between work and preparing for Jake’s return, sleep had been scarce. But the thought of having both of them under one roof again made her pulse quicken with anticipation.
“I just want everything to be perfect,” she admitted.
“It will be,” he said, guiding her gently toward the hallway. “Come on.”
The hardwood floor was cool beneath her feet as they walked to the bedroom, bathed in soft lamplight and the flicker of the TV. Nick crawled into bed, exhaustion finally catching up to her.
“I can’t believe it’s only been two weeks,” she murmured, watching Bradley strip down to his boxers. Her gaze lingered on the familiar lines of his back.
“Feels longer,” he said, sliding in beside her. He lowered the volume and pulled her close. “But he’ll be here in the morning. Then maybe you’ll stop worrying.”
“I’ll still worry. About both of you. Even when you’re here.”
Bradley’s fingers threaded through her hair, massaging gently. “I know. It’s who you are. But maybe you can worry a little less when we’re both safe at home.”
Nick tilted her head up, studying his face in the dim light. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.” He kissed her softly. “What time’s Jake’s transport getting in again?”
“Ten-thirty. I figured we’d pick him up, come back here, and see what he’s up for.”
“Sounds good.”
Nick yawned, her body finally surrendering to fatigue.
“Get some sleep, sweetie,” Bradley whispered. “Jake’s going to want time with you, and you’ll be no good to either of us if you’re dead on your feet.”
She hummed in agreement, her cheek resting against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her. “Will you wake me if I oversleep?”
“Of course. Though knowing you, you’ll be up before the alarm, buzzing with excitement.”
Nick laughed softly. “You know me too well.”
“I do,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Now close your eyes.”
She let herself sink into his warmth, tension draining from her body. The last few days had been a whirlwind. Tomorrow, their little family would be whole again—at least for a while.
The last thing she felt before sleep claimed her was Bradley’s gentle touch along her spine and the soft hum of the TV.
The alarm beeped insistently. Nick reached over to silence it, finding Bradley still asleep, arms wrapped around her.
She smiled—at the sight of his peaceful face, and at the thought that in just a few hours, Jake would be home.
The clock read 8:15. Plenty of time to get up and get ready to pick up Jake.
Nick leaned down, pressing soft kisses to Bradley’s cheek. “Sunshine,” she sang gently. “Time to wake up.”
Bradley stirred, eyes fluttering open. A sleepy smile spread across his face. “Morning,” he rasped, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re awfully chipper for someone who was dead tired a few hours ago.”
“Jake’s coming home today,” she said simply. And that was enough.
Bradley chuckled, stretching beneath the sheets. “So I’ve heard. About a thousand times.”
She swatted his chest. “Don’t act like you’re not excited too. It’s written all over your face.”
“I’m excited for you. That’s all.”
“Liar,” she giggled.
Nick rolled out of bed, padding to the window to pull back the curtains. Sunlight streamed in, painting the room golden. "Perfect weather for his homecoming," she said, already mentally checking off her list. "I should get the pie ready, and maybe start some coffee—"
"Nick." Bradley's voice held that particular tone that made her pause. "Come here."
She turned, finding him propped up on one elbow, hair mussed from sleep. The intensity in his dark eyes made her stomach flutter.
"What?"
"Come here," he repeated, patting the space beside him.
She crawled back onto the bed, settling next to him. His hand found the small of her back, fingers tracing lazy patterns through the thin fabric of her sleep shirt.
"You're going to drive yourself crazy if you keep this up," he said. "Jake's not expecting a five-star welcome. All he's expecting is you. Is us.”
Nick felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders at his words. "I know. I just… it's been two weeks since we've all been together. I want him to know how much we missed him."
"Trust me, he knows." Bradley's thumb brushed along her spine, sending a familiar warmth through her. “You're as subtle as a gun.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "I prefer to think of myself as expressively enthusiastic."
Bradley laughed, a deep rumble that she felt against her skin. "That's one way to put it." His hand slid lower, resting on her hip. "Come here."
Nick allowed herself to be pulled closer, settling against his chest. "We still need to get ready. The base will probably be busy with people waiting for loved ones, and traffic might be—"
He silenced her with a kiss, slow and deliberate, his hand cupping her face. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with something that made her breath catch.
"We have time," he murmured. "And you need to relax."
Her protest died as his lips found her neck, trailing down to the sensitive spot just above her collarbone. "Bradley…"
"Jake wouldn't want you stressed," he whispered against her skin. “So just cuddle me for a few minutes and relax.”
Nick melted into his embrace, letting out a soft sigh as his arms tightened around her. The morning sunlight cast golden patterns across the rumpled sheets, and for a moment, she allowed herself to simply exist in the warmth of Bradley's arms.
"Fine. Five minutes," she conceded, nestling closer.
"That's my girl," he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.
She traced the embedded gravel scars on his cheek, remembering the night he'd told her about the car accident. How vulnerable he'd looked in the dim light of her apartment , sharing pieces of himself she knew few others had seen. He only shared the low lights and she often wanted to hear the full story. But it was never the right time.
Neither was now.
"What are you thinking about?" Bradley asked, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.
"Just… how lucky I am. To have this. To have you both."
His eyes softened. "We're the lucky ones, Nick."
She beamed brightly. "I love you," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly.
Bradley's hand slid into her hair, deepening the kiss with a gentle urgency that made her toes curl. "Love you too," he murmured against her lips.
Nick glanced at the clock—8:32. Still plenty of time. She felt the familiar heat building between them and would have let herself surrender to it she wasn't trying to save her sexual drive for when Jake was finally home.
"We should probably start getting ready," she said reluctantly, though she made no move to leave his arms.
"Probably," Bradley agreed, but his thumb was still tracing small circles on her hip bone through the thin cotton of her sleep shirt.
Nick groaned and forced herself to sit up. "Okay, I'm getting up now. For real this time."
"Sure you are," Bradley said with a knowing smirk that made her want to tackle him back onto the mattress.
Instead, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching.
“So coffee?”
"Coffee sounds good," Bradley replied, finally sitting up. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, watching her with that warm intensity that always made her feel seen. "I'll help with breakfast after I shower."
"Perfect. I'll get the coffee started," Nick said, feeling lighter already. She paused at the doorway, turning back to see Bradley stretching, muscles shifting beneath his skin. The sight still made her heart skip, even after all this time.
In the kitchen, Nick moved with practiced efficiency, measuring coffee grounds while her mind drifted to Jake's homecoming. Two weeks felt like an eternity when you were used to having both your boyfriends under one roof.
Sometimes she still found herself amazed at how quickly they fell into the routine of three people who seemed to be together forever, and not the few months they had been.
In the kitchen, Nick moved with practiced efficiency, measuring out coffee grounds while her mind drifted to Jake’s homecoming. Two weeks felt like an eternity when you were used to having both your boyfriends under one roof.
Sometimes she still found herself amazed at how quickly the three of them had fallen into a rhythm—one that felt like it belonged to people who’d been together for years, not just a handful of months. In Nick’s eyes, if their relationship felt that natural, that easy, it had to mean they were meant to be.
She pulled three mugs from the cabinet—a habit she’d kept even with Jake away, always setting out the third cup like a place saved at the table. The coffee maker gurgled to life, filling the quiet morning with its familiar, comforting sound.
The apple pie sat on the counter where she’d left it, perfectly golden and fragrant. She ran her finger along the edge of the dish, checking that it had cooled completely. Jake had mentioned his grandmother’s apple pie exactly once—months ago, during a lazy Sunday conversation—but Nick had filed the detail away the way she did with everything important about the two men who’d somehow become her whole world.
The sound of the shower running upstairs made her smile. He was probably taking a navy shower and would be down shortly.
She opened the refrigerator, surveying their options. Eggs, bacon, the good bread they all loved. But the longer she stared at the shelves, the more she realized she was too excited to eat.
The shower stopped, and Nick closed the refrigerator, deciding to wait for Bradley before making any breakfast decisions. She poured coffee into two mugs, leaving the third empty but ready beside the pot—a silent promise that soon it would be filled.
She carried Bradley’s mug to the table just as he walked in, hair damp and wearing only a pair of jeans. Water droplets clung to his shoulders, catching the morning light in a way that made her breath hitch.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the mug and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You eat yet?”
“No, I was waiting for you.” She settled into a chair, drawing one leg up beneath her. “I’m not sure I can eat anyway. My stomach’s doing that flippy thing.”
Bradley smiled over the rim of his mug. “Nervous or excited?”
“Definitely excited. I can’t wait for it to be just us three again.”
“It’ll be good,” Bradley agreed, settling into the chair across from her. His eyes flicked to the third empty mug on the counter, and Nick caught the flash of anticipation he tried to hide behind his coffee cup. “Think he’ll be tired from the mission? I’m always dead tired when I come back from one.”
“Probably. But you know Jake—he’ll want to spend the whole day with us.”
“Make up for lost time.” Bradley winked.
Nick felt heat creep up her neck at the implication in his tone. “Something like that,” she said, hiding her smile behind her mug.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows. Nick checked the clock again—9:15. Jake’s transport would dock in just over an hour.
“Should we head out soon?” she asked, already calculating drive time to the base.
“Nick.” Bradley set down his mug and reached across the table to take her hand. “We’ve got plenty of time. Traffic won’t be bad on a Saturday morning.”
She nodded, but her leg was already bouncing under the table. “I know, I know. I just don’t want to be late.”
“We won’t be.” His thumb traced over her knuckles. “I promise.”
Nick squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his calm assurance. “What if the carrier gets in early? You know how sometimes they—”
“Then he’ll wait for us,” Bradley interrupted gently. “Jake’s not going anywhere without us.”
She took a deep breath, letting his words settle over her. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”
“You’re being you,” he corrected, bringing her hand to his lips. “And Jake loves that about you just as much as I do.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest. She stood, needing movement to channel her restless energy. “Okay, breakfast. What do you want? I could make pancakes, or eggs, or—”
“Toast is fine,” Bradley said, watching her pace between the counter and refrigerator. “You need to eat something, even if it’s small.”
Nick nodded. “Toast is good. Coffee and toast.”
She pulled the loaf of bread from the counter, her movements quick and efficient despite the nervous energy thrumming through her. The toaster clicked as she pushed the lever down, and she found herself drumming her fingers against the granite countertop while she waited.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that counter,” Bradley observed, amusement coloring his voice.
“Sorry.” Nick forced her hands still, then immediately started fidgeting with the hem of her sleep shirt. “I should probably get dressed soon. What do you think I should wear? Something casual, or—”
“Nick.” Bradley stood and moved behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders. “Breathe.”
She leaned back against his bare chest, feeling some of the tension melt away under his touch. “I’m breathing.”
“Are you? Because it sounds more like you’re hyperventilating.”
The toast popped up, making her jump. When she realized what the sound was, she laughed.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little wound up,” she admitted, turning in his arms to face him.
Bradley smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “A little?”
“Fine, a lot.” Nick reached for the toast, buttering it with quick, precise movements. “I can’t help it. It’s Jake.”
“I know.” His hands found her waist, thumbs tracing gentle circles. “That’s what makes this so good, you know? How much you care.”
“I hope you know I’d be doing the same if this were you,” she said, turning her head to look at him.
“I know you would.” Bradley smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “And I’d be just as excited to come home to you.”
She handed him his toast, grabbed hers, and they ate in comfortable silence, Nick’s excitement gradually settling into a warm, steady anticipation.
“I should get dressed,” she said finally, glancing at the clock. 9:30. “We should leave soon.”
Bradley nodded. “I’ll clean up here.”
Nick hurried to the bedroom, her mind already cycling through outfit options. She wanted to look good for Jake, but not like she’d tried too hard. Natural, but special.
She settled on her favorite jeans—the ones Bradley always said made her ass look amazing—and a soft green top that matched her eyes. Simple gold earrings completed the look. She left her dark hair loose, knowing Jake liked to run his fingers through it.
Standing in front of the mirror, she applied a touch of mascara and lip gloss. Nothing too heavy. Just enough.
“You look beautiful,” Bradley said from the doorway, his eyes warm as they swept over her.
“Yeah?” She turned, suddenly self‑conscious. “Not too casual?”
“Perfect.” He crossed the room and kissed her temple. “Jake’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
The compliment settled her nerves immensely.
“Aren’t you going to put a shirt on? Not that I’m complaining.”
Bradley glanced down at his bare torso and chuckled. “Probably a good idea. Don’t want to cause a scene at the base.”
“Too late for that,” Nick said, admiring the view as he pulled a navy T‑shirt from the dresser. “You cause a scene everywhere you go looking the way you do.”
“Says the woman who turns heads just walking down the street.” He tugged the shirt over his head, messing up his hair in a way that somehow made him look even better.
Nick checked the clock one more time—9:45. Her heart rate picked up. “Okay, I think we should go now. Just to be safe.”
Bradley grabbed his keys from the nightstand. “Lead the way, beautiful.”
The drive to the base passed in a blur of anticipation and nervous chatter. Nick found herself bouncing her leg again, watching the familiar scenery roll by in quick flashes. Bradley kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other wrapped securely around hers.
“Almost there,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as they approached the base entrance. “You good?”
“I’m perfect,” Nick replied, her eyes bright with anticipation. “More than perfect.”
The guard at the gate checked their IDs, offering a polite nod before waving them through. The parking lot was already filling with families waiting for their loved ones—partners holding signs, kids bouncing with excitement, people craning their necks toward the water as if they could will the carrier to appear faster.
Nick scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces among the sea of expectant energy.
“Let’s wait by the hangar,” Bradley suggested, guiding her with a gentle hand at the small of her back. “Better view of the incoming carrier, and it’s less crowded.”
They found a spot along the designated waiting area, joining the growing cluster of families. Nick couldn’t stop bouncing on her feet, her excitement practically vibrating out of her. Eventually she wrapped her arms around Bradley, pulling him close to her side.
“Are you as excited as I am?”
He chuckled. “No one could be as excited as you are.”
She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent—smoldering spice, warm vanilla, and something distinctly smelling like tobacco. “I can’t wait to see his face when he spots us.”
A commotion near the water caught their attention. The massive carrier was visible on the horizon now, slowly growing larger as it approached the dock. Nick’s breath caught in her throat.
“There it is,” she whispered, her grip tightening on Bradley’s arm.
The carrier cut through the water with impressive grace for something so massive. Nick could make out tiny figures moving along the deck, but they were still too far away to distinguish individual faces. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat echoing louder than the last.
“How long until they dock?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
“Twenty minutes, maybe thirty,” Bradley replied, his voice carrying a note of anticipation he couldn’t quite hide.
Nick nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the approaching ship. Somewhere on that deck was Jake—probably scanning the crowd just as eagerly as she was watching for him. The thought made her smile, her chest tightening with affection.
Twenty-five minutes felt like hours. Nick paced a small circle behind Bradley, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the carrier as it maneuvered into position. The crowd around them grew restless—children asking when daddy would finally appear, spouses checking their phones for the hundredth time, murmurs of excitement rippling through the air.
“They’re lowering the gangway,” Bradley announced, his voice cutting through Nick’s anxious thoughts.
She rushed to his side, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view. The first wave of sailors began descending, duffel bags slung over shoulders, faces scanning the crowd for the people they’d been missing. Nick’s heart rate spiked as she searched each face, looking for those sharp features and that cocky grin she’d been dreaming about for two weeks.
“I don’t see him yet,” she said, gripping Bradley’s forearm.
“He’ll be there. Probably coming out with Javy.”
Nick nodded, eyes darting over the steady stream of sailors and naval aviator's pouring down the gangway. Around them, reunions unfolded—children running into open arms, tearful embraces, passionate kisses. Each one made her heart beat faster.
“There!” Bradley’s voice cut through her thoughts. He pointed toward the gangway where a familiar figure had just appeared.
Jake stood at the top, duffel slung over one shoulder, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Even from a distance, Nick could see the way his head moved as he searched the crowd. Her heart leapt into her throat.
“Jake!” she called, waving frantically. “Over here!”
He spotted them immediately, a wide grin breaking across his face. Nick felt her knees go weak at the sight. Two weeks suddenly felt like two years.
“Go,” Bradley whispered, giving her a gentle push. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Nick didn’t need to be told twice. She broke into a run.
Jake had barely reached the bottom of the gangway when she launched herself into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, his duffel thudding to the ground as he spun her in a circle, her legs wrapping around his waist.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed against her neck, holding her so tightly it almost hurt.
His green eyes were bright with emotion as he looked up at her, still hol
ding her off the ground. “Couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.”
Without hesitation, she kissed him, pouring two weeks of longing into the press of her lips. Jake responded instantly, one hand tangling in her dark hair while the other supported her weight as if she weighed nothing. When they finally broke apart, breathless, his forehead rested against hers.
“Two weeks too long,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.
“Way too long,” Nick agreed, but she didn’t move. Her legs stayed wrapped around him, her arms locked behind his neck like she had no intention of letting go.
“Seresin, you gonna hog her all day or what?” Bradley’s amused voice floated from behind them.
Jake grinned over Nick’s shoulder. “Bradshaw. Miss me?”
“Like a hole in the head,” Bradley replied, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed the sarcasm.
Jake shifted slightly, trying to loosen Nick’s grip enough to pull Bradley into a brief, back‑slapping hug, but she clung tighter.
“Damn, she’s clingy today,” Jake laughed, though his arm stayed firmly around her waist as he reached out with his free hand to pull Bradley into their circle.
“She’s been counting down the minutes,” Bradley said, clapping Jake on the shoulder before pulling him into a proper hug, Nick sandwiched happily between them. “Good to have you back, man.”
“Good to be back,” Jake replied, his voice rougher than usual. He pressed a kiss to Nick’s temple, then glanced between them with that signature cocky grin. “So, what’s the plan? Please tell me it involves getting off this base and into someplace private.”
Nick laughed, finally lifting her head from his shoulder. “I figured we could head back to my apartment and go from there.”
“Sounds perfect,” Jake said, his hand sliding to the small of her back. “I’ve been dreaming about your bed for two weeks.”
“Just the bed?” Nick teased, heat creeping up her neck.
Jake’s eyes darkened, that familiar intensity making her stomach flip. “Among other things.”
Bradley cleared his throat, amusement clear in his voice. “Maybe we should get moving before someone recognizes us.”
Just then, another figure descended the gangway—Coyote, duffel slung over his shoulder, sunglasses perched on his head. He spotted them immediately and made his way over with a knowing grin.
“Well, look at this little reunion,” Coyote said, eyes flicking between the three of them. “You finally get your hands on her, Seresin?”
Jake chuckled. “You know I did.”
Coyote smirked, then nodded at Nick. “Glad you survived him being gone. He was insufferable.”
Nick laughed. “I believe it.”
Bradley grinned. “You ready to get out of here?”
Jake nodded, then turned to Coyote. “Thanks again for putting up with me, man.”
“Anytime,” Coyote said, bumping fists with him.
Jake bent to retrieve his duffel bag, but Nick didn’t loosen her grip.
“Hey,” he said, chuckling. “Darlin’, you want to let go so I can properly carry my bag?”
“Not really.” She giggled, tightening her arms around him.
Jake laughed, his arm tightening around her waist. “Well then, I guess I’m carrying both.”
He somehow managed to hoist the duffel with his free arm, never breaking contact with Nick. The weight didn’t seem to bother him at all.
They made their way through the crowd, navigating around other emotional reunions. Nick couldn’t stop stealing glances at Jake, drinking in the sight of him—the five‑o’clock shadow highlighting his sharp jawline, the way his uniform fit his broad shoulders, the subtle changes in his face after two weeks away. He looked the same, but also somehow better—like distance had sharpened every detail she loved.
“You’re staring,” Jake murmured, his voice low and intimate.
“Can you blame me?” She smiled up at him, feeling a flutter in her stomach when his green eyes locked with hers.
“Not at all.”
Bradley unlocked the Jeep and grabbed Jake’s duffel from him to toss it in the back while Nick finally—reluctantly—allowed Jake to guide her toward the passenger side. But instead of letting her climb in, Jake pressed her gently against the door, his hands framing her face.
“Two weeks,” he said softly, his thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. “Felt like forever.”
“I know,” she whispered, her hands fisting in his uniform shirt as if anchoring herself to him.
“I hope Bradley took care of you while I was gone. Fourteen days is a long time to go without sex.”
“Of course he did,” Nick replied, a blush creeping up her neck. “But it wasn’t the same without you.”
Jake’s eyes darkened, his body pressing closer. “Good to know I was missed.”
“You have no idea,” she breathed, tilting her face up to his.
Bradley cleared his throat from behind them, trying—and failing—to hide a smile. “Hey, save some for when we get back to Nick’s.”
Jake pulled back with a chuckle, pressing one more quick kiss to Nick’s lips before opening the passenger door for her. “He’s right. Besides, I want to get out of this uniform.”
“I can help with that,” Nick said, her voice barely above a whisper as she slid into the seat.
He laughed. “I bet you can.”
Bradley shook his head as he climbed behind the wheel. “She’s been like this all morning. And yesterday. She had enough excitement coursing through her veins to power a fleet of fighter jets.”
“I was not that bad,” Nick protested, though the heat in her cheeks suggested otherwise.
Jake settled into the backseat, immediately leaning forward to rest his hand on her shoulder. “How bad are we talking?”
“She made you an apple pie at eleven last night,” Bradley said, pulling out of the parking space.
Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “Apple pie? At eleven PM?” His hand squeezed Nick’s shoulder affectionately. “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” Nick said, turning in her seat to face him. “You mentioned once that it was your favorite, and I just thought—”
“That I needed something sweet to come home to,” Jake finished, his voice soft with something that made her chest tighten. “Besides you, of course.”
Bradley glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “That’s exactly what I said.”
“Great minds,” Jake murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the sensitive spot behind Nick’s ear. She shivered at the contact, her body already responding to his proximity after two weeks apart.
“How was the mission?” Bradley asked, navigating through the base traffic. “I know you can’t give specifics, but I’m assuming it went well.”
Jake was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing slow patterns on Nick’s shoulder. “Can’t say much, but yeah. Successful. Everyone came home.” His voice carried the weight of relief that always followed a completed mission.
Nick reached up to cover his hand with hers, squeezing gently. She knew that tone—the careful neutrality that masked whatever he’d seen or done in the past two weeks.
“That’s all that matters,” she said softly.
“Exactly.” Jake’s fingers intertwined with hers. “Now I just want to forget about all of it for a while.”
Bradley caught Jake’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “So how long before you have to report back for regular duty at the base?”
“Unfortunately, I have to report back Monday. So I’ll be back to being a pain in your ass then,” he smirked.
“Lucky me,” Bradley replied dryly, though Nick caught the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“That gives us the whole weekend,” Nick said, practically bouncing in her seat. “Two full days.”
“Two full days,” Jake repeated, his voice dropping to that low register that always made her pulse quicken. “I’ve got some ideas about how to spend them.”
Bradley gave him a sly smile through the rearview mirror. “I bet you do.”
“So what have you two been up to? Besides missing me terribly, of course.”
Nick laughed. “Work, mostly. I’ve been putting in extra hours on the new fighter jet propulsion system. Keeps me distracted when one of you is gone. Then, as you know, Bradley and I went to the movies. Oh, and I hung out with Penny.”
“How’s Penny doing?” Jake asked, his fingers idly playing with a strand of Nick’s hair.
“Good. She and my dad are in a great place. And the bar is running like clockwork.”
“Good for them,” Jake said, though his attention was clearly more focused on the way Nick leaned into his touch than on the conversation about her father and Penny. “What about you, Bradshaw? Keep yourself busy?”
“The usual. Flying, paperwork, working on the Bronco, making sure Nick didn’t stress herself into an early grave waiting for you to get back.”
“Hey!” Nick protested, but Jake’s low chuckle made her forget her indignation.
“Sounds about right. You do tend to stress easily.”
She could have argued, but there was no use. She got the stress thing from her mother—a strange combination for someone who was almost a carbon copy of Pete Mitchell.
“It’s just how I’m wired,” Nick shrugged, turning her face into Jake’s palm as he cupped her cheek. “Can’t help it.”
“Wouldn’t want you any other way,” Jake murmured, his thumb tracing her lower lip. The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine.
Bradley navigated the Jeep onto the main road near Nick’s apartment. “So, any preferences for how we spend the day? Besides the obvious.”
Jake’s eyes never left Nick’s face. “Honestly? I just want to be home with you two. Maybe eat that pie Nick made. Then see where the day takes us.” His voice carried a weight of exhaustion beneath the excitement.
“Sounds perfect,” Nick said softly, understanding the unspoken need to decompress. She’d seen it in her father often enough growing up—that delicate transition from mission mindset back to civilian life. Jake might project confidence and swagger, but she could see the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was still set a little too tight.
“You hungry?” she asked, studying his face. “I could make you something besides the pie.”
“Starving,” Jake admitted. “But more for you than food right now.”
Bradley pulled into Nick’s apartment complex, finding a parking spot close to her building. The familiar sight of home seemed to ease some of the remaining tension from Jake’s features.
“Come on,” Nick said, practically vibrating with anticipation as Bradley turned off the engine. “Let’s get you inside.”
Jake grabbed his duffel from the back while Nick bounced impatiently beside him.
The moment they reached her apartment door, she had the key out and was fumbling with the lock.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” Jake said, his free hand settling on her shoulder.
“I’m being easy,” Nick protested, though her hands were shaking slightly as she finally got the door open.
The familiar scent of her apartment—vanilla candles and the lingering aroma of last night’s baking—washed over them as they stepped inside. Jake dropped his duffel by the door and immediately pulled Nick against him, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was hungry and desperate.
“Missed this,” he murmured against her lips. “Missed you so damn much.”
Nick melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. When they finally had to pull apart for air, she buried her head in his chest.
“Why don’t I let you two have some alone time? I’ll go to the grocery store and get everything we need for dinner,” Bradley offered.
Jake immediately shook his head. “That’s really great of you to offer, but we want you here. Don’t we, Nick?”
She turned in his arms and nodded. “Of course we do. Don’t be silly.”
“I know you do, but I still think you two should have a few hours to yourselves. It’s only fair.”
“Bradley—” Nick started, but Jake cut her off.
“Only if you’re sure?” he double‑checked.
“I’m sure. I’ll just run to the store and you two can have the place to yourselves.” He didn’t have to say for what—they all knew.
“You don’t have to do that,” Nick protested weakly, even as her body hummed with anticipation at the thought of being alone with Jake after two weeks apart.
Bradley smiled, his eyes warm with understanding. “I want to. I’ll pick up stuff for dinner, maybe swing by that bakery you like and get a fresh loaf of Italian bread.”
Jake’s arms tightened around Nick’s waist. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” Bradley replied with a wink. He pressed a gentle kiss to Nick’s forehead. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“You sure?” Nick asked one more time, her fingers already working at the buttons of Jake’s uniform jacket.
“Positive.” Bradley grabbed his keys from the counter.
“Welcome home, Seresin.” He closed the door quietly behind him.
“So…now that it's just us what would you like to do?”
Jake smiled. “I could use a shower.”
"A shower sounds perfect," Nick said, her fingers finishing with the last button of his jacket. She pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. "You want company?"
Jake's eyes darkened as he watched her hands move to his belt. "I was hoping you'd offer."
She took his hand and led him toward the bathroom, her heart racing with anticipation. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, casting everything in a warm golden glow that made the moment feel almost dreamlike.
"God, I’m so glad you're actually here," she whispered, turning to face him once they reached the bathroom. Her hands found the hem of his undershirt, slowly pulling it up over his head.
"Me too sweetheart," Jake murmured, his hands settling on her hips as she traced the familiar lines of his chest. "Two weeks felt like two years."
Nick stood on her tiptoes, pressing soft kisses along his collarbone. The taste of him, salt and warmth and something distinctly Jake, made her dizzy with want. His hands slid under her green top, fingers splaying across the bare skin of her back.
"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Couldn't stop thinking about touching you."
Nick pulled back just enough to tug her shirt over her head, letting it drop to the tiled floor. Jake's sharp intake of breath made heat pool low in her belly as his eyes swept over her.
"Beautiful," he whispered, his hands coming up to cup her face. "So damn beautiful."
She reached behind him to turn on the shower, steam beginning to fill the small space. The sound of water hitting tile mixed with their quiet breathing and the rustle of clothing being discarded.
Jake's uniform pants joined the growing pile on the floor, followed by Nick's jeans and the rest of their clothes until they stood skin to skin in the steamy bathroom. Jake's hands roamed her body like he was reacquainting himself with every curve, every freckle he'd memorized.
"Come here," he said softly, pulling her into the shower with him.
The hot water cascaded over them as Jake pressed her back against the cool tile wall, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and desperate. Nick's hands explored the familiar planes of his chest, relearning the feel of him after two weeks apart.
"I dreamed about this," Jake murmured against her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone. "Every night."
"Me too," Nick breathed, her fingers threading through his wet hair. "I kept reaching for you in bed and you weren't there."
Jake's hands slid down her sides, gripping her thighs and lifting her effortlessly. Nick wrapped her legs around his waist, gasping as her back pressed against the cool tile wall. The contrast of the cold surface against her heated skin made her shiver.
"Cold?" Jake murmured, his lips trailing down her neck.
"No," she breathed, arching into him. "Just… sensitive."
He chuckled against her skin, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through her body. "Good."
Water cascaded over his shoulders, running in rivulets down his chest. Nick watched, mesmerized by the sight of him—tanned skin glistening, muscles taut with restraint as he held her.
"Jake," she whispered, her voice breaking with need. “Please.”
His grip tightened on her thighs as he shifted his weight, positioning himself at her entrance. Their eyes locked, green meeting green, and Nick felt the familiar flutter in her chest that only Jake could create.
"I love you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.
"I love you too," she breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushed forward, joining them in one smooth motion.
They both gasped at the sensation. Two weeks had been too long. Nick's head fell back against the tile, her eyes fluttering closed as Jake began to move, his rhythm slow and deliberate at first, then building in intensity.
"Look at me," he commanded softly, one hand coming up to cup her face. "I want to see you."
Nick forced her eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The vulnerability she saw there, mixed with raw desire, made her breath catch.
"You're so perfect," Jake whispered, his movements becoming more urgent as Nick's body responded to his. The steam around them seemed to amplify every sensation, every touch electric against their heated skin.
Nick could only hold on as he drove into her with increasing intensity, her nails leaving crescent marks on his shoulders. The sound of water hitting tile mixed with their breathless moans and whispered endearments.
"I missed this so much," she gasped, her body arching against his. "Missed you."
Jake's response was lost in a groan as she tightened around him, her body already climbing toward release after a few moments of him inside her. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves between them, circling with practiced precision.
"Come for me, sweetheart," he murmured against her ear, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "Let me feel you."
The command sent her over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing through her as she cried out his name. Jake followed a moment later, his rhythm faltering as he buried his face in her neck, holding her tightly against him as they rode out their release together.
For several long moments, they remained locked together, the warm water washing over them as their breathing gradually slowed. Jake's lips pressed gentle kisses along her shoulder, up her neck, finally capturing her mouth in a tender kiss that made her heart ache with fullness.
"That was worth waiting for," he murmured against her lips, slowly lowering her feet to the floor while keeping her steady with an arm around her waist.
Nick laughed softly, feeling slightly lightheaded. "Definitely."
Jake reached for her shampoo, squeezing some into his palm. “Turn around,” he said, his voice gentle. “Let me wash your hair, sweetheart.”
She complied, sighing with pleasure as his strong fingers worked the shampoo into her dark hair, massaging her scalp with slow, steady pressure. The familiar scent of coconut filled the steamy air, mingling with the clean, masculine smell that was uniquely Jake.
“And here I thought Bradley was taking care of you while I was gone,” he teased.
“He was. But between my period and my work schedule, we didn’t get to have as much us as we would’ve liked.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I know Bradley would’ve loved to take care of you more.”
Jake murmured the words as he gently tilted her head back to rinse the shampoo from her hair. Water cascaded down her spine as his fingers combed through the dark strands. “I’d never complain about having you all to myself for a while.”
Nick leaned into his touch, eyes closed as the warm water washed over her. “Mmm, but I’m glad we’ll all be together now. It feels right when it’s the three of us.”
“It does,” Jake agreed, reaching for her conditioner. He worked it through her hair with the same careful attention, his touch almost reverent. “Though I have to admit, I’m enjoying this private welcome home.”
She turned to face him once he’d finished with her hair, reaching for his body wash. “My turn,” she said, pouring some into her palm. Her hands moved across his chest, mapping the familiar planes of muscle she’d missed.
“Enjoying yourself?” Jake asked, his voice low and amused as he watched her hands trace the contours of his body.
“Absolutely,” Nick admitted, feeling the firm warmth beneath her fingertips. “I missed touching you.”
His eyes darkened with renewed desire. “I missed your hands on me.”
They finished washing each other with lingering touches and soft kisses, reluctant to break contact even for a moment. When they finally stepped out of the shower, Jake wrapped a towel around Nick’s shoulders, using the corners to pull her against him for another kiss.
“I could do that all day,” he murmured against her lips.
“We have all weekend,” she reminded him, reaching for another towel to dry his hair. She stood on tiptoes, rubbing the soft cotton over his dark strands while he watched her with tender amusement.
“You know I can dry my own hair.”
“I know. But I want to spoil my boyfriend.”
Jake smiled down at her, his green eyes soft. “I’m not complaining.” He caught her wrist gently, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Just not used to being fussed over.”
“Well, get used to it,” Nick said, continuing to towel his hair dry. “At least for this weekend.”
When she was satisfied, she wrapped her own towel more securely around her body and led him back to the bedroom. Jake followed, his hand warm against the small of her back.
“You want some clothes?” she asked, gesturing toward the set of drawers that had become his. “Or are you planning to just walk around like that all day?”
Jake glanced down at the towel hanging low on his hips and grinned. “Would you complain if I did?”
“Absolutely not,” Nick laughed, moving to her dresser to find something comfortable to wear. “Though Bradley might not appreciate it.”
“Bradley’s seen me in less,” Jake quipped, but he moved to the drawer anyway, pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants and a well‑worn navy T‑shirt.
Nick selected a pair of soft cotton shorts and one of Bradley’s T‑shirts that had somehow migrated into her drawer. The fabric swam on her smaller frame, but she loved wearing clothes that smelled like her boyfriends.
“So,” Jake said, pulling the shirt over his head, “tell me more about this pie you made me.”
Nick grinned, padding barefoot toward him. “Apple. With extra cinnamon and a golden‑brown top. It’s cooling on the counter.”
“At eleven at night?” Jake pulled her close, his arms encircling her waist. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, resting her cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothed the last of her nerves. “I kept thinking about you coming home, and I wanted everything to be perfect.”
“It is perfect,” Jake murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “You’re perfect.”
Nick tilted her face up to look at him, struck by the sincerity in his expression. The cocky swagger he wore like armor had softened into something more vulnerable, more real.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Love you too, sweetheart.” His thumb traced along her cheekbone. “More than you know.”
They made their way to the kitchen, Jake’s arm draped around her shoulders. The apple pie sat exactly where she’d left it, golden and fragrant on the counter. Jake whistled low in appreciation.
“Damn, that looks incredible.” He leaned down to inhale the scent.
“Would you like a slice? Something to tide you over before dinner?”
“Hell yes,” Jake said, his eyes lighting up as he examined the perfectly golden crust. “I can’t remember the last time I had homemade pie.”
Nick beamed, moving to cut him a generous slice. The crust was perfectly flaky, the filling bubbling with cinnamon and tender apples. She plated it carefully.
Jake took a bite, his eyes closing as he savored the flavors. The satisfied groan that escaped him made Nick’s chest swell with pride.
“Jesus, Nick. This is incredible.” He took another, larger bite. “Better than my grandmother’s — and I never thought I’d say that.”
Nick’s cheeks warmed. “I was so worried it wouldn’t turn out right. I kept checking my recipe over and over, making sure the extra cinnamon wouldn’t throw anything off.”
Jake looked up, surprised. “You remembered that?”
“You mentioned once that your grandma’s pie always tasted like it had extra cinnamon,” she said, shrugging shyly. “So I wanted to get it right.”
“Well, you did.” Jake pulled her closer with his free arm, pressing a kiss to her temple between bites. “This is exactly what I needed. Something sweet and homemade after two weeks of mess hall food.”
Nick watched him eat, feeling a deep satisfaction at being able to provide this small comfort. There was something intimate about cooking for someone you loved — about nourishing them in such a basic, grounding way.
He set the plate down and pulled her against him, pressing a sticky‑sweet kiss to her lips. “You taste like cinnamon.”
“You taste like apples,” she murmured back, her arms winding around his neck.
They were interrupted by the sound of keys jingling at the front door. Nick pulled back with a guilty smile as Bradley’s voice carried through the apartment.
“Hope you two are decent,” he called out, amusement coloring his tone. “I’m coming in.”
“We’re in the kitchen,” Nick called back, though she made no move to leave Jake’s arms.
Bradley appeared in the doorway carrying several grocery bags, his eyes taking in the scene — Jake in sweatpants and a T‑shirt, Nick drowning in one of Bradley’s shirts, both of them looking thoroughly relaxed and content.
“Well, you two look like you’ve been busy,” he said with a knowing smirk, setting the bags on the counter.
“Jake was just trying my pie,” Nick said innocently, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her.
“I bet he was,” Bradley teased, unpacking groceries. “How was it, Seresin?”
“Best damn pie I’ve ever had,” Jake said, his arm still firmly around Nick’s waist. “Our girl’s got skills.”
“Don’t I know it,” Bradley said, his eyes meeting Nick’s with a warmth that made her stomach flutter.
Nick moved to help him with the groceries, pulling out a package of red meat.
Jake’s brows lifted. “Chuck roast?”
Nick blinked — he hadn’t been close enough to read the label. She shot Bradley a quick look, and he looked just as surprised.
“Figured we should celebrate your homecoming properly,” she said, recovering as she grabbed more ingredients from the bag. “So we’re having beef burgundy and cheesy shells.”
“It’s your favorite of mine,” Nick said, pulling out cans of soup and the rest of the ingredients. “Well… one of them anyway.”
“How do you remember all this stuff?” Jake asked, genuine wonder in his voice as he watched her organize the ingredients.
“Because I pay attention,” she replied simply, standing on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Both of you have your favorites, and I like making you happy.”
Bradley caught Jake’s eye over Nick’s head, and something passed between them — an unspoken acknowledgment of how lucky they were.
“What can I do to help?” Jake asked, rolling up his sleeves.
“Absolutely nothing,” Nick said firmly, pushing him toward one of the kitchen stools. “You just got back. Grab a beer, sit on the couch, and let Bradley and I get this prepped and in the oven.”
Jake opened his mouth to protest, but Bradley cut him off.
“Don’t even try to argue with her,” Bradley said, already washing his hands at the sink. “She’s been planning this meal since yesterday morning.”
“Fine,” Jake said with exaggerated resignation, though affection warmed his eyes. “But I’m not used to being waited on.”
“Well, like I said earlier, get used to it,” Nick said, shooing him toward the living room. “At least for this weekend.”
Jake grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and settled onto the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He flipped through channels, letting the sound of the TV fill the space.
“It’s nice having him back,” Nick said softly as she began opening cans of soup so they’d be ready when the meat finished searing. She glanced toward the living room, where Jake’s low laughter drifted in.
Bradley nodded, moving to stand behind her at the counter. His hands settled on her hips, and she leaned back against his chest. “You’re happy,” he observed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“Incredibly happy,” she confirmed, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. “Are you? Happy he’s back?”
“Of course I am.” Bradley’s arms tightened around her waist. “The apartment felt too quiet without his big mouth.”
Nick laughed, elbowing him gently. “Be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” Bradley protested, though she could hear the smile in his voice. He reached around her to grab the last of the unopen cans. “Besides, someone has to keep his ego in check.”
From the living room, Jake’s voice carried over the TV. “I can hear you two talking about me in there.”
“We’re saying wonderful things,” Nick called back, grinning as she moved on to opening the meat. “All about how humble and modest you are.”
Jake’s laughter echoed through the apartment. “Damn right I am.”
Bradley shook his head, opening the remaining cans with practiced efficiency. “See what I mean? Ego the size of Texas.”
Nick watched him work, admiring the quiet precision of his movements. There was something soothing about cooking together like this — the familiar rhythm they’d built over the past few months.
Once everything was prepped, Nick stepped back so Bradley could slide the heavy pot into the oven.
“Perfect,” she said, admiring their handiwork. “Now we just let that cook for most of the day.”
She turned to find Bradley watching her, his expression soft in the warm kitchen light. A flutter ran through her chest — that familiar feeling she got whenever either of her boyfriends looked at her that way.
“What?” she asked, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.
“Nothing,” Bradley said, his voice low enough that Jake couldn’t hear. “Just… happy to see you happy.”
Nick stepped closer, resting her hands on his chest. “Thanks for earlier. For giving us some time.”
“Of course.” His fingers brushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “I figured you both needed it.”
“And now I need both of you,” she said, rising on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Come on — let’s go sit with Jake.”
They made their way to the living room, Nick leading Bradley by the hand. Jake was sprawled on the couch, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him in weeks. His hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the edges in a way that made her heart flutter.
“Room for two more?” she asked, though she was already moving toward him.
Jake grinned, patting the space beside him. “Always.”
Nick settled into the spot next to him, immediately tucking herself against his side. Bradley took the empty space on her other side.
“So what would you like to do now that you’re home? We have hours before dinner,” Nick reminded him.
“Anything that involves staying inside for the rest of the day is fine with me.”
Nick tilted her head, considering. “Alright, staying in works. But we don’t have to just sit here staring at the walls.”
Her eyes lit up as the idea struck. “How about a game? Cards, maybe. Poker?”
Bradley chuckled, already anticipating her competitive streak. “Dangerous suggestion. You know she’ll clean us out.”
Jake raised a brow, amused. “Oh yeah? I don’t know… I think we can take her, Rooster.”
Nick grinned, pushing herself up from the couch. “We’ll see about that. I’ll grab the deck.”
She returned a moment later with a deck of cards in one hand and a small container of poker chips in the other. The competitive gleam in her eyes made Jake grin — he’d missed that look more than he realized.
“Ready to lose, gentlemen?” she asked, settling cross‑legged on the floor near the coffee table.
Jake slid down to join her, his knee brushing against hers. “Bold words from someone who’s about to get cleaned out.”
Bradley chuckled, joining them on the floor. “Remember who her father is. He probably taught her how to play. Don’t underestimate her.”
“Oh, I never underestimate Nick,” Jake said, watching as she shuffled the cards with surprising dexterity. Her fingers moved quickly, the cards flowing between her hands like water. “That would be a mistake.”
Nick dealt the cards with practiced precision, her green eyes flicking between them.
“Just promise not to cheat this time.” She eyed both of them.
“Excuse me, but when have we ever cheated with you?” Bradley countered, slightly offended.
Nick paused mid‑shuffle. “How about the time we played darts and you purposely grabbed me while I was taking my shot — causing me to lose the bet?”
“If I remember correctly, you made out just fine that night for someone who lost,” Jake smirked.
Nick blushed at the memory, heat creeping up her neck. “That’s different. You two tricked me into losing.”
“I prefer to think of it as strategic distraction,” Jake replied, eyes glinting with mischief as he picked up his cards. “Not cheating.”
Bradley took a swig of his beer. “Besides, I seem to recall you being very… satisfied with the outcome.”
“That’s not the point,” Nick protested, though her lips curved into a reluctant smile. She arranged her chips in neat stacks. “This time, we’re playing fair. And I’m going to destroy you both.”
Jake leaned forward, his competitive streak fully engaged. “We’ll see about that, Mitchell.”
The first few hands were casual, with small bets and playful banter. Nick won the first round, Bradley the second. By the third hand, the stakes had begun to rise, along with the competitive tension. Nick leaned forward, elbows on the table as she studied her cards. The flush of excitement on her cheeks made Jake smile — he’d missed that look.
“I raise,” Nick announced, pushing a small stack of chips to the center of the table.
Jake glanced at his cards again — a pair of kings. Nothing spectacular, but enough to stay in the game. He matched her bet, then raised it slightly, watching her reaction. Bradley folded with a rueful shake of his head.
“Too rich for my blood,” he said, leaning back to watch the showdown.
Nick narrowed her eyes at Jake, trying to read his expression. “You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?” Jake’s lips curved into that cocky half‑smile she knew so well. “Only one way to find out.”
She matched his raise, then added a few more chips to the center, her eyes locked with his. “I’ll call. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Jake laid down his cards, revealing the pair of kings. “Read ’em and weep, sweetheart.”
Nick’s face remained impassive for a moment before breaking into a triumphant grin. She flipped her cards over with a flourish — three queens staring up at them.
“I believe that’s my pot,” she said, reaching forward to collect her winnings.
Before she could grab them, Jake moved with lightning speed, abandoning his cards to lunge across the table. His arms locked around her waist as he pulled her into his lap, sending poker chips flying in every direction.
“Jake!” Nick squealed as he started tickling her sides mercilessly. “Stop it! I won fair and square!”
“I think the winner needs to be taught a lesson,” he growled playfully, his fingers finding every ticklish spot she had. His arms tightened around her as she squirmed, her back pressed against his chest.
Nick dissolved into helpless giggles, trying to escape his grasp but finding herself thoroughly trapped. “Bradley!” she gasped between laughs. “Help me!”
Bradley just leaned back against the couch, watching with amused eyes. “You’re on your own, sweetheart. I lost too, remember?”
Jake’s fingers danced along her ribs, making her shriek with laughter. Her body writhed against him as she tried to escape, but his grip was too strong, his hold secure around her waist.
“Uncle! I surrender!” Nick gasped between fits of giggles, her face flushed and hair falling loose from behind her ears.
“That’s more like it,” Jake murmured against her ear, gradually slowing his tickling assault but keeping her firmly in his lap. His hands settled on her hips, warm and possessive.
Bradley watched them with a soft smile, shaking his head at their antics. “And this is why we can’t have nice things. Look at this mess.”
Poker chips were scattered across the coffee table and floor, cards strewn in every direction. Nick caught her breath, still nestled against Jake’s chest, her pulse gradually slowing.
“This is all Jake’s fault. He’s a sore loser,” Nick pointed out.
“I am not!”
“Okay, then prove it. Continue to play without acting like a child.”
Jake’s face broke into a wide grin. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He released his grip but kept her comfortably settled in his lap. “Let’s start a new round. And this time I promise to be gracious when you inevitably beat me.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “Bradley, you’re the witness here.”
Bradley chuckled as he gathered the scattered cards. “I’ll keep him in line,” he promised, shuffling the deck with practiced precision. His fingers moved nimbly, cards flowing between his hands in a smooth rhythm that captured Nick’s attention.
“Deal me in,” Jake said, his arms loosening around her waist. “You staying right there, or going back to your spot?”
“You really think I’m going to stay here and let you get a clear shot of my cards?”
Jake chuckled. “It was worth a shot.”
Nick shifted back to her spot on the floor, smirking as she gathered up her scattered chips. “You’re lucky I’m letting you keep playing after that stunt.”
“Please,” Jake scoffed, arranging his own chips into neat piles. “You love my stunts.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Even his childish antics made her heart flutter in a way that was embarrassing to admit. Two weeks without him had been far too long.
Bradley finished dealing the cards, his movements precise and controlled—so different from Jake’s casual sprawl across from her. The contrast between them had always fascinated her: Bradley’s steady calm versus Jake’s electric energy, both somehow fitting perfectly into her life.
“Your bet, Nick,” Bradley prompted, nodding at the new hand.
Nick glanced at her cards and suppressed a smile. A pair of aces stared back at her. She pushed a modest stack of chips toward the center of the coffee table.
“I’ll start small,” she said, keeping her expression neutral despite the excitement bubbling inside her.
Jake studied her face, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve got something good, don’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Nick teased, watching as Bradley examined his own cards with that focused intensity she loved.
Jake matched her bet, then raised it slightly. “Let’s make this interesting.”
Bradley hesitated before grabbing a handful of chips. “I’ll see you both and raise you.” He tossed in what looked like a hundred dollars’ worth of chips.
Nick raised her eyebrows at Bradley’s bold move, a thrill running through her. This was exactly what she’d hoped for—the three of them together, competing and teasing like no time had passed at all.
“Well, well, look who’s feeling confident,” she said, studying Bradley’s face for any tell. His expression remained maddeningly neutral, those dark eyes revealing nothing.
“Or trying to intimidate us,” Nick countered, tapping her fingers against her remaining chips as she considered her options. The pair of aces gave her a strong hand, but Bradley’s confidence made her wonder if he was sitting on something better.
She matched his bet, sliding her chips forward with deliberate slowness. “I’ll see your raise.”
Jake studied his cards again, brow furrowed. “Me too.”
Bradley’s expression remained neutral as he glanced between his cards and the growing pot. The slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth was the only indication that something had changed.
“Looks like I’ll raise again,” he said casually, sliding another stack of chips forward.
Nick narrowed her eyes, studying him for any hint of a bluff. Her pair of aces felt strong, but Bradley’s confidence was making her second‑guess herself. “You’re acting awfully sure of yourself there, Bradshaw.”
“Just playing the hand I was dealt,” he replied, meeting her gaze with that steady intensity that always made her pulse quicken.
Jake whistled again, looking between his cards and the pot. “Damn, Rooster. Either you’ve got something good or you’re better at bluffing than I am.”
Nick patted Jake’s knee. “You’re still good at bluffing, babe. I just know you really well.”
Jake laughed, a deep warm sound that sent a flutter through her stomach. “Hey, I’ll have you know my poker face has won me countless bets from unsuspecting rookies.”
“I’m sure it has,” Nick said, returning her attention to Bradley and his unexpectedly aggressive betting. She studied him carefully, trying to read anything in those dark eyes. The slight crinkle at the corners… was that confidence or just amusement at their banter?
She glanced at her aces again. A strong hand, but Bradley’s bold move had planted a seed of doubt. Was he sitting on a three of a kind? A straight?
“I’ll call,” she decided, matching his bet with careful precision.
Jake let out a dramatic sigh, tossing more chips onto the table. “Come on, Rooster, just give up. You know she’s going to win.”
“Well, if that’s the case, why haven’t you folded yet?” Bradley teased.
Jake raised an eyebrow at the challenge, flashing that cocky half‑smile. “Well, I’m definitely not folding now.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got then,” Nick said, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “I’m calling.”
The three of them laid their cards down simultaneously. Nick’s pair of aces stared up at her, suddenly looking pathetically inadequate beside Jake’s three of a kind—kings with a pair of tens.
But it was Bradley’s hand that made both of them gasp.
“Royal flush,” he announced quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a satisfied smile as he revealed the ten, jack, queen, king, and ace of hearts.
Jake leaned forward, inspecting the cards with narrowed eyes. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head. His eyes narrowed further as he pointed an accusatory finger at Bradley. “You cheated! There’s no way you just happened to get a royal flush on your first aggressive bet.”
Bradley laughed. “Nick is right—you are a sore loser.”
Jake gave him a grin before tossing a poker chip at his face.
Bradley easily dodged it, throwing his arms up protectively.
“Hey! No throwing things at Bradley’s handsome face! And that goes for you too, Bradley—no throwing things at Jake’s face either!” Nick giggled.
“And that’s why I never let you two play games without supervision,” she added, gathering the scattered poker chips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she watched Jake’s exaggerated pout. “Honestly, it’s like babysitting.”
“He started it,” Bradley said, gesturing toward Jake with mock seriousness.
“Me?” Jake pressed a hand to his chest in feigned offense. “I’m the innocent victim here. Bradshaw’s the one with the suspicious royal flush.”
Nick rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress her smile. Having both of them here, bickering like children, filled her with a warmth she’d missed these past two weeks. She leaned back on her heels, taking in the sight of them—Jake’s animated gestures, Bradley’s quiet amusement—and felt her heart swell.
“Okay, I’m calling a short time‑out,” Jake said as he slowly got up from the floor. “I’m going to unpack.”
Nick quickly looked up at him. “I’ll help you. I’m sure you have a lot of stuff you need to wash.”
“Well, while you two are doing that, I’ll get us some drinks and check on dinner,” Bradley announced as he also stood.
Nick trailed after Jake, leaving Bradley to his task in the kitchen. She watched Jake hoist his duffel bag onto her bed, the mattress dipping under its weight. He unzipped it with a practiced tug, and the familiar scent of military‑issue detergent mixed with something distinctly Jake wafted out.
“Let me help you sort through that,” she said, moving beside him. “Clean stuff on one side, dirty on the other?”
Jake nodded, already pulling out a stack of neatly folded T‑shirts. “Most of it’s dirty, to be honest. We didn’t exactly have great laundry facilities.”
Nick reached into the bag, fingers brushing against something soft at the bottom. She pulled out a familiar navy blue shirt—her shirt, the one she’d snuck into his bag before he left. It was wrinkled but clearly cared for.
“So, I can assume this helped.,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the faded lettering of her last name on the shirt.
Jake’s expression softened. “Yeah. It helped… having something of yours with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. Like I said in my emails, Coyote caught me sniffing it like a lovesick teenager,” he admitted sheepishly.
Nick laughed, her heart warming at the thought of Jake seeking comfort in something so simple. She brought the shirt to her face, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him now—a mixture of his cologne and something uniquely Jake that made her pulse quicken.
“I’m glad it helped,” she said, folding it carefully and setting it aside. “I was worried you might think it was silly or stupid.”
“It’s not silly,” Jake said, his voice low and rough. “It’s… nice, knowing you were thinking about me.”
Nick’s chest tightened with emotion as she continued sorting through his clothes. His uniform shirts were creased from being packed tightly, his socks rolled into neat military balls. Everything so ordered, so Jake. She pulled out her old iPod she’d let him borrow, headphones neatly wrapped around it.
“I hope you liked the playlists I made you.”
“Yeah, they were perfect,” Jake said, smiling as he twirled the device in his hand. “Though I probably listened to our song one too many times.”
“The one I put on there?” Nick asked, smiling as she reached for the iPod. Her fingers brushed against Jake’s, sending that familiar spark through her body. “Which one was our song again?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.
Jake smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know exactly which one. The one I picked for us to dance to at the Hard Deck.”
“I remember. Unchained Melody.”
“Yeah. That’s the one,” Jake said, his voice softening. He set the iPod on the nightstand. “I listened to it on repeat sometimes. Made me feel closer to you.”
Nick’s heart skipped at the confession. This was a side of Jake that only emerged in rare, unguarded moments—the vulnerability beneath his usual swagger. She watched as he continued sorting through his clothes, his movements efficient and practiced.
“I missed you,” she said simply, reaching for more of his laundry. “Both of us did.”
“I know.” Jake paused, his hands stilling on a folded uniform shirt. “I got that from your emails. And Bradley’s.”
Nick felt her cheeks warm at the memory of what they’d written. “I know Bradley doesn’t like to admit it, but you’re his best friend now. He missed his best friend.”
Jake’s expression softened. “Yeah, well… I missed him too. Don’t tell him I said that though.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Nick promised, adding a pair of his boxers to the growing laundry pile. It felt so domestic, so normal, sorting through his clothes like this. A simple task made special by his presence.
“So,” Jake said, zipping up his now‑empty duffel bag. “Should we do my laundry now or save it for later?”
“Let’s get it out of the way now,” Nick said without hesitation.
Jake nodded, gathering the pile of dirty clothes in his arms. “Might as well. I’d rather get it done now so we can focus on more interesting things later.”
Nick led the way to her small laundry room, where Jake dumped the clothes in front of the washing machine. She knelt down, quickly sorting whites from colors with practiced efficiency.
“I can do this,” Jake said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to take care of my laundry.”
“I want to,” she insisted, looking up at him with a smile that made his chest tighten. “Think of it as the perks of having a girlfriend.”
Jake laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I could get used to this.”
“Good,” Nick said, measuring detergent and pouring it into the machine. “Because you’re stuck with me.”
She started the washer and stood, brushing imaginary dust from her knees. The familiar hum of the machine filled the small space as Jake pulled her against him, his arms encircling her waist.
“Stuck with you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What a hardship.”
Nick looked up at him, her heart fluttering at the tenderness in his eyes. The cocky pilot everyone else knew had softened around the edges, revealing the man she’d fallen in love with.
Bradley poked his head into the hallway, noticing Nick and Jake doing laundry. “Hey, I checked the food and it’s still got a ways to go.”
He went back into the kitchen, lifted the lid on the pot for one final check, then slid it back into the oven without a word. The rich scent of beef burgundy hung in the air, promising that the long wait would be worth it.
Nick and Jake had just finished loading the last of the laundry into the washer, the steady hum joining the background rhythm of the evening. With everything settled, they regrouped at the table, cards waiting. Hours slipped by in the easy cadence of games and teasing, the beef burgundy working itself tender while Bradley checked in from time to time.
Nick dealt with practiced ease, her grin widening as she raked in another pot. Jake scowled at his hand, clearly irritated, and Nick couldn’t help noticing how much he hated losing. It didn’t bother her—if anything, it was kind of cute, the way his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed whenever she came out ahead.
Bradley groaned after another round, tossing his cards down. “Alright, enough poker before we start owing Nick real money,” he muttered, pushing back from the table.
Jake perked up immediately, reaching for another box. “Fine,” he said, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Let’s switch it up. Parcheesi. I grew up on this game, so you’re about to see me at my best.”
Nick arched a brow, amused. “Oh really? You think you can beat me at that too?”
Jake only smirked as he set up the board, and within minutes his competitive streak was in full force. He blocked her moves, sent her pieces back to start, and laughed every time he gained ground.
Nick threw her hands up, exasperated but smiling.
Bradley shook his head, watching Jake revel in his lead.
“He’s insufferable when he’s winning,” he muttered, earning a smug grin from Jake.
Nick rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. She’d won plenty at poker, but seeing Jake light up over Parcheesi was its own kind of entertainment. She noticed how good he was at the game, how competitive he became, and found herself liking that side of him more than she expected.
By the time Bradley pushed the board aside, announcing that dinner was finally ready, the teasing hadn’t let up.
They headed into the kitchen, scooping generous portions of beef burgundy and cheesy shells onto their plates.
The smell was rich and comforting, the kind of meal that had taken hours to cook but was clearly worth it based on the aroma alone.
Plates in hand, they carried everything back to the couch, settling in front of the TV with the same playful energy that had carried them through the games.
Jake was the first one to take a bite of the meat. When it hit his tongue, he let out a satisfied moan.
“This is incredible,” Jake said after swallowing, his eyes wide with appreciation. “Seriously, Nick. I think this is the best thing you’ve made me.”
Nick beamed at the compliment, warmth spreading through her chest as she watched Jake take another eager bite. She glanced at Bradley, who nodded in agreement, his mouth too full to speak.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch. “It’s worth all the prep time when I see you two enjoy it so much.”
The three of them ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the occasional appreciative hum or the clink of silverware against plates. Nick couldn’t help stealing glances at Jake as he ate, still marveling at the fact that he was really here, back home with them.
“Your cooking skills are dangerous,” Jake said between bites, his eyes bright with pleasure. “I mean it, Nick. You could ruin a man with food this good.”
Nick laughed, feeling a flush of pride warm her cheeks. “I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten about my cooking.”
“He’s not wrong,” Bradley added, reaching for his beer. “I’ve gained at least five pounds since we started dating.”
“You look exactly the same,” Nick protested, gesturing with her fork. “Perfect as always.”
Jake nodded in agreement. “She’s right, Bradshaw. Still the same pretty boy you’ve always been.”
Bradley rolled his eyes, but Nick caught the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. The easy banter between them had returned so naturally, as if Jake had never been gone. The three of them settled into their familiar rhythm—Jake teasing, Bradley mediating, and Nick caught in the middle, loving every minute of it.
When they finished dinner, Nick collected their empty plates, stacking them neatly before carrying them to the kitchen. The dishes could wait until tomorrow—tonight was about being together, not cleaning up.
“What now?” she asked, returning to the living room where Jake and Bradley had settled deeper into the couch. “Another game? Movie?”
Jake stretched his arms above his head, his T‑shirt riding up slightly to reveal a glimpse of tanned skin. “I’m good with whatever. Just being here is enough.” He yawned.
Bradley nodded in agreement. “It’s your call, Nick.”
She considered for a moment, looking between them—Jake lounging with that easy confidence, Bradley sitting with his arm draped across the back of the couch. Both watching her with expressions that made her heart flutter.
“Movie,” she decided. She had a feeling Jake would be too tired for anything else.
“I’ll see what’s on Netflix,” Nick said, settling between them and reaching for the remote.
Jake nodded, his eyelids already looking heavier than they had an hour ago. The excitement of his homecoming combined with a full meal was clearly taking its toll. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing Bradley’s shoulder.
Nick scrolled through the options, hyper‑aware of both men’s warmth on either side of her. “How about this Ryan Reynolds one? He’s always good for a laugh.”
Both men nodded.
“Wait a minute,” Bradley said, sliding his arm around Nick’s waist. “Didn’t we already see this?”
Before she could answer, Bradley lifted her effortlessly onto his lap, settling her against his chest. The sudden movement made her gasp, but she quickly relaxed into his embrace, her back warm against his torso.
Jake yawned again, this time more dramatically. “I’m going to need to get horizontal for this,” he mumbled, stretching out across the couch and laying his head in Nick’s lap. His weight was comforting against her thighs as he shifted to find the perfect position.
Nick smiled down at him, automatically threading her fingers through his soft hair. “Comfortable?” she asked, her voice soft with affection.
“Mmm,” Jake murmured, his eyes already half‑closed as he gazed up at her. “Perfect.”
Bradley smiled, watching Nick’s fingers gently card through Jake’s hair. The moment felt perfect—all three of them together, safe and content. This was what he’d missed these past two weeks: this quiet intimacy that somehow balanced their relationship.
“I think our pilot is about to crash,” Bradley whispered, nodding toward Jake, whose eyes were already fluttering closed despite his obvious efforts to stay awake.
Nick nodded, her expression soft as she continued stroking Jake’s hair. “He’s exhausted. Poor thing probably hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in two weeks.”
Jake mumbled something incoherent, turning his face to nuzzle against Nick’s thigh. His breathing deepened, the tension visibly melting from his body as he surrendered to sleep.
“Should we wake him up? Get him to bed?” Nick asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bradley shook his head. “He looks comfortable. We’ll finish the movie, then we can all go to bed.”
Nick watched the opening credits roll, the warm weight of Jake in her lap and Bradley’s solid presence behind her creating a cocoon of contentment. She kept stroking Jake’s hair, his breathing already deep and even. His eyes had fully closed now, long lashes resting against his cheeks.
“He didn’t even make it through the opening credits,” she whispered, smiling down at him.
Bradley’s arms tightened slightly around her waist, his breath warm against her ear. “Can’t blame him. Long mission, emotional homecoming, amazing food… I’m surprised he lasted this long.”
Nick nodded, her heart swelling as she watched Jake sleep. The worry lines that had been etched around his eyes earlier had smoothed out, making him look younger, softer.
Unable to help herself, Nick leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Jake’s head. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower, carrying the clean scent of her shampoo mixed with something unmistakably him. She lingered there, breathing him in.
“I love you,” she whispered into his hair, so softly even Bradley might not have heard.
Jake stirred slightly at the touch, a small smile forming on his lips though his eyes stayed closed. His hand found hers where it rested on his chest, fingers intertwining with a gentle squeeze before relaxing again.
Bradley watched the tender moment, his thumb tracing small circles against her hip. “He’s completely out,” he murmured, voice warm against her ear.
“I know,” Nick whispered back, unable to look away from Jake. “Would you mind grabbing the blanket behind you?”
Bradley reached behind himself for the throw blanket and handed it to her. She spread it carefully over Jake’s sleeping form, tucking it around his shoulders. His breathing settled into the deep, steady rhythm of exhaustion finally claiming its due.
“He seems so content,” Nick whispered, a soft smile playing on her lips as she continued stroking his hair. “I never get to see him sleep like this. Either of you.”
Bradley watched her tenderly care for Jake, his heart warming at the sight. “That’s because he’s finally with you, sweetie.”
Nick smiled as the words washed over her. He was right — Jake looked utterly at peace here with them. His usual intensity had melted away, leaving his features soft and boyish in the flickering glow of the television. She adjusted the blanket, making sure it covered him completely.
“I’ve never seen him this relaxed before,” she whispered. “Not even when we’re… you know.”
Bradley chuckled, the vibration rumbling through her back. “That’s because he’s always trying to be in control. Even when he’s not.”
The movie played on, but Nick found herself watching Jake more than the screen — the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slight part of his lips, the occasional twitch of his fingers. Every so often his eyelids fluttered, and she wondered what he was dreaming about.
“I think we should get him to bed,” she said after another forty‑five minutes, trying not to yawn herself.
Bradley nodded, loosening his arms around her. “He’s not the only one. You look pretty tired too.”
Nick smiled as Bradley shifted. “Can you carry him to bed? He’s too heavy for me.”
Bradley snorted softly. “You I could — and would happily — carry. Jake? Not a chance.”
Nick laughed. “Fair enough.”
“We could always leave him here on the couch,” Bradley teased.
Nick glanced down at Jake’s peaceful face, her heart melting. “No, I want him to sleep with us.”
She bent close to Jake’s ear, her voice soft but firm. “Jake, sweetheart. Time to go to bed.”
He barely moved, making a soft swallowing sound.
“Honey Bear,” she whispered, kissing his forehead.
Jake stirred, brow furrowing as consciousness slowly returned. His eyes fluttered open, disoriented and heavy with sleep.
“Mmm? What?” he mumbled, blinking up at her.
“You fell asleep during the movie,” she said, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone. “Let’s get you to a real bed.”
Jake groaned as he stretched his legs. “Sorry, darlin’. Guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“It’s fine,” Nick said softly, squeezing his hand. “I’m just happy you’re home.”
Jake blinked the sleep from his eyes, becoming more alert as he took in her face. The faint shadows beneath her eyes caught his attention, and he noticed how she suppressed a yawn behind her hand.
“You look exhausted too,” he murmured, sitting up and running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Let me carry you to bed.”
“Jake, I can walk—” she began, but he was already standing, the blanket falling to the floor.
“I know you can walk,” he said, voice still thick with sleep. “But I don’t mind carrying you.”
Nick stood and grabbed his arm, tugging him gently toward her bedroom. “You’re still half‑asleep. Come on, let me guide you before you trip over something.”
Jake allowed himself to be led, his movements sluggish as Nick’s fingers wrapped around his bicep. The warmth of her touch anchored him, keeping him upright as exhaustion threatened to pull him back under.
“I’m fine,” he protested weakly, even as he leaned into her.
Bradley followed behind them, switching off the TV and lights. “Sure you are, Hangman. But humor our girl.”
“Yeah, humor me,” Nick echoed with a sleepy smile.
They reached the bedroom slowly, Jake leaning more heavily into her with each step. His exhaustion radiated off him in waves. Nick kept her hand wrapped around his arm, guiding him gently, her thumb brushing soothing circles against his skin.
Inside the bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast everything in gold. Nick slipped in first, reaching for the remote on her nightstand. She clicked on the TV, lowering the volume to a soft murmur — just enough light and noise to settle her nerves. The guys were used to it by now; it was part of her nighttime rhythm.
She turned off the lamp, letting the TV’s soft flicker take over the room.
Jake stood at the edge of the bed, swaying slightly, blinking down at the blankets like he was trying to remember what came next. Even half‑asleep, his instincts kicked in. He reached out, clumsily pulling back the covers for her.
“Hop into bed, darlin’,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
She crawled into bed, settling into the space he’d opened for her.
Bradley stepped closer, and she looked up at him with a sleepy smile. “Hey… aren’t you coming to bed?”
He leaned down, cupping her cheek gently as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips — warm, slow, affectionate.
“I’ll be right there,” he murmured. “Bathroom first. Then I’m all yours.”
Nick nodded, already sinking into the pillows.
Jake was still standing there, blinking at her like he’d forgotten what he was doing. She smiled up at him.
“Jake,” she said softly, “you need to get undressed first.”
He blinked down at himself, then back at her, as if surprised to find he was still wearing clothes. “Right. Yeah. Clothes.”
He tugged his shirt over his head with clumsy hands, dropping it somewhere near the foot of the bed. His movements were slow, uncoordinated, but heartbreakingly sweet — this big, confident man reduced to sleepy fumbling.
He shucked off his pants next, leaving him in his boxers. The moment he was free of them, he let out a sigh so deep it seemed to deflate him entirely.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Bed.”
He crawled in beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. The second his head hit the pillow, his eyes fluttered closed — but he wasn’t fully gone yet. His hand reached out blindly, finding her hip.
“Come ’ere,” he mumbled.
Nick moved instantly, sliding her body over his chest, settling her cheek against the warm, steady rise and fall of his breathing. Jake’s arms wrapped around her automatically, instinctively, like muscle memory. One hand found the small of her back, the other resting loosely on her hip. He exhaled, long and slow, sinking deeper into sleep with her weight grounding him.
“I’ve got you this time,” she whispered into his skin.
He didn’t answer, but his fingers curled slightly against her side, as if he heard her somewhere deep in the fog of sleep.
The bathroom door clicked softly, and Bradley returned a moment later, shirtless, wearing only his boxers. He paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before him.
Jake was completely out, mouth slightly parted, arms wrapped around Nick like she was the only thing tethering him to the world. And Nick — sweet, exhausted Nick — was already half‑asleep on his chest, the TV casting soft flickers of light across her face.
Bradley’s chest tightened with something warm and quiet. Affection. Gratitude. A sense of belonging he never expected to find.
He moved carefully, slipping into his side of the bed. He edged closer, mindful not to crowd Jake, but close enough that his chest brushed lightly against Nick’s back. He draped an arm around her, his hand resting gently on her stomach.
Nick stirred faintly, leaning back into him. Her lips parted like she was about to speak.
Bradley shushed her softly, brushing his thumb along her spine. “Go back to sleep, sweetie.”
She relaxed instantly, her breathing evening out again. Within moments, she was fully asleep.
Bradley waited a few seconds, listening to the soft rhythm of her breaths, the deeper rumble of Jake’s. When he was sure she was gone, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of her head.
“Goodnight, Nick,” he whispered.
Jake shifted in his sleep, tightening his hold around her. Bradley smiled, settling in, letting his forehead rest against the curve of her shoulder.
The room filled with the soft, steady rhythm of three people breathing together — tangled, warm, safe.
Summary: Nick wants to surprise Jake with some of the lingerie Bradley brought her.
Word Count: 7,145
Warnings: P in V, clit rubbing, humping, dry humping, fingering
Tags: Smut
Author Notes: Hey y'all we have made it to chapter 40! I would like to say that we're halfway through the story but there's a lot that I've already written and a lot that I haven't and that's before we get to the ending I have planned for my story. Anyways I hope you liked this chapter. I decided to go with a little shameless smut. It doesn't really further the story but how can you be mad when it's smut? Although there are a few lines that might make sense later on. So keep an eye out! As always comment or reblog with your thoughts on this chapter and if you have any ideas for future chapters let me know. Like I said I have a lot written already and a lot that isn't written so there's definitely room to throw in some of your ideas! I've actually already started throwing in some ideas that you guys have sent me. So feel free to keep them coming!
“Hey whatcha watching Sunshine?” Nick asked as she walked out from the bedroom.
Bradley took a slow swig of his beer and smiled. “Just catching up on some shows I missed.”
Nick casually walked over to where he was sitting on the couch and sat on his lap. Each leg hanging on either side of Bradley’s. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she looked him in the eyes.
"That so?" she murmured, her fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "Must be riveting television. I haven't heard a peep out of you in the last hour.”
Bradley nodded as he took another sip of his beer. “It is.”
Nick pouted when it was clear Bradley wasn't paying attention to her. “I have a surprise for Jake when he gets back from his errands. But you just looked so sexy sitting here in your Hawaiian shirt that I thought I'd show you first. Get your opinion on if you think Jake would like it. “
“Hmm and what surprise is that?” Bradley asked never taking his eyes off the TV.”
"Why don't I just show you?"
Nick shifted her weight on his lap, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate motion against him. She watched his face carefully, biting her lower lip as she pressed herself against the rough fabric of his jeans. The thin lace of her most recent purchase offered no barrier between them—just as intended.
Bradley's eyes finally tore away from the television, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His hands, which had been resting casually on the couch, moved to grip her hips.
"Nick," he said, his voice suddenly an octave lower. "Are you wearing what I think you're wearing?"
She smiled, pleased that she'd finally broken through. “The lingerie we picked out at Victoria Secret. The one with all the holes.”
Bradley groaned. “Baby…”
“You don't have to do anything. I just felt like going for a ride on a Rooster.”
His fingers dug into her hips, a slight tremor running through them as he fought for control. "Jake will be back any minute."
"That's the point," Nick whispered, her breath hot against his ear as she nipped at his earlobe. "Maybe he'll join us."
Bradley's resolve was crumbling by the second. The TV show he'd been so engrossed in faded to background noise as Nick rolled her hips again, more insistently this time.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, one hand sliding up her back, feeling the intricate pattern of lace and skin. His fingertips traced the edge where fabric met flesh. "Get up. Let me see what you've got on."
Nick smiled triumphantly and gracefully slid off his lap, lifting her dress up and turning slowly to give him the full view. The black lace barely covered the essentials, with strategic cutouts for her nipples, crotch, and various other parts of her that revealed tantalizing glimpses of skin. The back was nothing more than thin straps crisscrossing her spine, and the panties were so thin Bradley could easily rip them off of her.
"Christ," Bradley breathed, setting his beer down on the side table with a thud. "Come here."
She sauntered back toward him, enjoying the power she held in that moment. "Does this mean I get to ride a Rooster?"
Bradley reached for her, pulling her back onto his lap with newfound urgency. His hands roamed her body, fingertips exploring every cutout in the lingerie with appreciation. His calloused fingers sent shivers across her skin.
“Little Rooster is in his cage right now.” He teasingly pointed out.
"Well, I think it's time we let him out, don't you?" Nick murmured, her fingers trailing down to the zipper of his jeans. "Poor thing must be suffocating in there. Unless lil Rooster likes being teased."
Bradley's eyes darkened with want. "You know damn well he doesn't."
Nick laughed, the sound rich and playful as she slowly rubbed her unclothed crotch against his jean clad bulge. “I was thinking he might like to see me ruin another pair of your jeans.”
Bradley's breath hitched as he felt her heat pressing against him through the denim. "You've ruined enough of my clothes, Beautiful." His voice was a low rumble that she could feel vibrating through his chest.
"But it's so much fun," Nick purred, continuing her slow grind against him. She watched his face with satisfaction as his eyes grew darker, pupils dilating with desire. "Remember when I squirted all over your jeans?"
His hands slid down to cup her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided her movements against him.
"How could I forget?" he growled, squeezing her ass harder. "Took forever to get them clean."
Nick grinned wickedly, her green eyes glinting with mischief.
She felt her arousal pooling, dampening his jeans where she pressed against him. A breathy giggle escaped her lips as she noticed the growing wet spot on the denim.
"Oops," she said, not looking sorry at all. "Looks like I'm already making a mess of you, Rooster."
Bradley's eyes followed her gaze downward, his mustache twitching with the hint of a smile despite his attempt to look stern.
"You're soaked," he growled, his hands tightening on her hips.
"Can you blame me?" She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear. “I have a thing for Roosters.”
"Is that right?" Bradley's voice was gravelly with desire as his hands traveled up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts through the lace. "Since when?"
"Since I met one in particular," Nick whispered, her hips never ceasing their torturous rhythm. She could feel him hardening beneath her, straining against his jeans. "One with a mustache that tickles in all the right places."
Bradley's hands slid around under her dress to cup her breasts, his thumbs finding her exposed nipples through the cutouts. She gasped as he rolled them between his fingers, her back arching into his touch.
"Fuck, Bradley," she whimpered, her rhythm faltering as pleasure shot through her body. The friction of his jeans against her core was delicious torture, rough denim scraping against her sensitive flesh through the cutout of her lingerie.
"You like that huh?" His voice was smoke and honey in her ear as he continued to tease her nipples, alternating between gentle pinches and soothing circles. "You like sitting on my lap, making a mess of my clothes while I play with these perfect tits?"
Nick nodded frantically, her long dark hair falling around her face as she rocked against him with increasing urgency. "Yes… god, yes."
Bradley captured her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as one hand moved to tangle in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her moan into his mouth. The kiss was all heat and hunger, his mustache tickling her skin as he tasted her, claimed her. When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, his eyes were nearly black with desire.
"What happened to 'Jake will be back any minute'?" She teased moving back from his chest a bit.
"Fuck it," Bradley growled, reaching for her. "He knows how to use a key."
Nick laughed, the sound bright and wicked as she danced just out of his reach.
The sound of keys jingling in the door lock made them both freeze. Nick's eyes widened with mischievous delight while Bradley cursed under his breath, glancing down at the obvious bulge in his jeans and the wet spot where she'd been grinding against him.
"Perfect timing," Nick whispered, winking at Bradley as the door swung open.
Jake stepped in, arms loaded with bags of take out, beer, and mail from his apartment.
"Honey, I'm ho--" Jake's words died on his lips as he took in the scene before him. His eyes widened, darting from Nick's barely-clothed body to Bradley's flushed face and the unmistakable evidence of their activities on his jeans.
"Well, well," Jake drawled, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. "Looks like I missed the party."
Nick shot him a wicked smile over her shoulder as she lifted her dress. "Oh, you're right on time, Hangman. I was just modeling my new lingerie for Rooster here." She struck a playful pose on his lap, showing off the intricate lace and strategic cutouts before dropping the dress down. "What do you think? Worth the money we spent?"
Jake set the takeout and beer on the kitchen counter without taking his eyes off her. A slow, appreciative smile spread across his face as he leaned against the
counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "Worth every damn penny."
Bradley cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably beneath Nick. "She was just giving me a preview of what you're in for."
"And making quite the mess, from what I can see," Jake observed, his eyes lingering on the wet spot on Bradley's jeans. He pushed off from the counter and sauntered toward them, his confident stride betraying his eagerness despite his casual demeanor. "Don't stop on my account."
Nick's eyes sparkled as she watched Jake approach. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"Is that so?" He stopped in front of them, reaching out to trace one finger along Nick's jawline. "And here I was, rushing back with dinner like a good boyfriend."
Nick leaned into his touch, her green eyes sparkling. "We can eat later. Food keeps."
"Mmm, true," Jake murmured, his finger trailing down her neck to the hollow of her throat. "Some appetites are more urgent than others."
Bradley shifted beneath Nick, his hands still firmly gripping her hips. "You gonna just stand there and watch, or are you joining us?"
Jake's eyes flashed with something primal as he unzipped his jacket. "Patience, Rooster. I'm savoring the view." His gaze raked over Nick, taking in every inch of the revealing lingerie visible beneath her lifted dress. "Our girl went to a lot of trouble. Seems only fair we appreciate it properly."
Bradley's hands tightened on her hips further. "She's been teasing me for the past fifteen minutes, man."
"Poor Rooster," Jake mocked, though his tone was playful rather than cruel. He straightened up, taking his jacket off
"You've never been good at delayed gratification."
"Easy for you to say," Bradley grumbled, his eyes darkening as he watched Nick grind. "You weren't the one with her grinding on your lap."
Jake chuckled, tossing his jacket over the back of a nearby chair. "Fair point."
Nick laughed, delighted by their banter. "Boys, boys. There's plenty of me to go around." She rolled her hips against Bradley once more, eliciting a barely suppressed groan.
Jake sat down next to them on the couch.
His eyes burned as he watched Nick tease Bradley, his own jeans growing tighter by the second. "Show me what you're doing to him, baby."
Nick licked her lips, deliberately slow, then turned her attention back to Bradley. She lifted herself slightly, reaching between them to run her fingers over the damp spot on his jeans.
"See what I did, Jake?" she purred. "Poor Rooster's all wet because of me."
Jake's breath hitched audibly. "Fuck, that's hot." He leaned in closer, his body radiating heat. "Let me see the full view, Nick."
Bradley's eyes locked with Jake's over Nick's shoulder, a silent communication passing between them. With a fluid motion, Bradley gripped the hem of Nick's dress and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her exposed in nothing but the scandalous lingerie.
"Jesus," Jake breathed, his eyes darkening as he took in the full view of Nick's body framed by the intricate black lace. The lingerie was even more provocative than he'd imagined—strategic cutouts revealing her nipples, the junction between her thighs, and strips of bare skin across her torso.
"Turn her around," Jake instructed, his voice rough with need. "Let me see all of her."
Bradley's large hands gripped Nick's waist, effortlessly lifting and rotating her so she straddled him facing Jake. The new position pressed her more firmly against Bradley's erection, making her gasp.
“Now I see why Rooster's pants are all wet. Look at you.” Jake murmured.
Jake leaned forward, his eyes never leaving the glistening evidence of her arousal visible through the cutout of her panties. He reached out, running one finger along the edge of the lace, barely grazing her sensitive skin.
"So fucking wet," he murmured, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that always made her shiver. "Did you get this wet just from teasing Bradley, or were you thinking about what would happen when I got home?"
Nick's breath caught as his finger moved closer to where she needed him. "Both," she admitted, her hips instinctively chasing his touch. "I've been thinking about both of you all day."
Jake's eyes darkened with approval. "Good girl." He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her inner thigh, just shy of where the lace cutout revealed her most intimate parts. "You smell divine."
Behind her, Bradley's hands tightened on her hips, his breath hot against her neck as he pressed his lips to her shoulder. The dual sensation of both men touching her made Nick's head swim with desire.
"I can feel how bad you want this," Bradley murmured against her skin, his mustache tickling as he spoke. "You're soaking through my jeans."
Jake's fingers traced higher, finally brushing against her exposed flesh. The touch, though feather-light, sent electricity shooting through her body. She arched her back, pressing harder against Bradley while simultaneously pushing toward Jake's exploring fingers.
"Please," she whispered, her voice already wrecked with need.
Jake's eyes darkened at her plea, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Please what, baby girl? Use your words."
Nick's head fell back against Bradley's shoulder as Jake's finger circled her clit, never quite making direct contact. "Please touch me properly," she gasped, her hips jerking with each teasing pass.
"I am touching you," Jake replied innocently, though the hungry look in his eyes was anything but. He leaned forward, his breath hot against her inner thigh. "Be specific."
Bradley chuckled, the sound vibrating through her back as his hands slid up to cup her breasts through the lace. "He's right, Sweetheart. Tell us exactly what you want."
"I want to ride my Rooster. And then Jake."
Jake's eyes flashed with heat as he exchanged a look with Bradley. "Oh, you do, do you?" His finger finally made direct contact with her clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. "And what makes you think you've earned that privilege?"
Nick's body trembled between them, caught in a delicious trap of sensation as Bradley continued to tease her nipples while Jake worked between her thighs. She tried to rock against Jake's touch, but Bradley held her firmly in place.
"Because," she panted, "I've been thinking about this—about both of you—all day. Bought this just for you." She gestured weakly at the lingerie, her movements uncoordinated as pleasure coursed through her.
Bradley's teeth grazed her earlobe. "Not good enough, Beautiful."
“Because I love you both?” Nick batted her pretty green eyes.
Jake's eyebrow arched as a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "Getting warmer." His fingers continued their torturous dance between her thighs, circling and teasing without giving her what she truly needed.
Bradley's laugh rumbled against her back. "She thinks she can get away with batting those pretty eyelashes."
"I do love when she tries to be manipulative," Jake agreed, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, so close to where she needed his mouth that Nick whimpered. "But I think we need to hear her beg properly, don't you, Rooster?"
"Absolutely," Bradley's hands moved to grip her waist, keeping her firmly in place when she tried to squirm. "No shortcuts tonight, Sweetie."
Nick's head fell back against Bradley's shoulder, her breath coming in short gasps as Jake slid one finger inside her.
"Please," Nick gasped, her inner walls clenching around Jake's teasing finger. "Please let me ride Bradley. I need to feel him inside me."
Jake curled his finger, hitting that spot that made her see stars. "And then?"
"And then you," she moaned, her hips bucking against Bradley's restraining grip. "I want both of you. Need both of you. Please."
Bradley's teeth grazed her shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "That's better," he growled, his voice a rumble against her back. "Jake?"
Jake withdrew his finger, causing Nick to whimper at the loss. He brought it to his lips, maintaining eye contact as he sucked it clean with a satisfied groan. "I think she's earned round one."
Bradley's hands moved to the button of his jeans. "Help me out here, Hangman," he said, his voice strained with need. "I'm trapped under a very sexy engineer."
Jake smirked, reaching forward to lift Nick off of Bradley’s lap.
She gasped as Jake effortlessly lifted her, his strong arms holding her suspended in the air for a moment. Her body felt electric, hyperaware of every point of contact between them.
"You're soaked," Jake murmured, shifting her weight to one arm as his free hand traced the wet cutout of her lingerie. "Look what you've done to poor Rooster's jeans."
Bradley wasted no time unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down his muscular thighs along with his boxers. His erection sprang free, thick and hard against his stomach.
"Come here," he commanded, his voice rough with need as he kicked his jeans completely off.
Jake lowered Nick back toward Bradley, but maintained his grip on her hips, controlling her descent. "Nice and slow Darlin’." he instructed, his breath hot against her ear.
Nick whimpered as Jake guided her down deliberately, her body trembling with anticipation. Bradley's hands joined Jake's on her hips, their fingers overlapping as they positioned her above his straining erection.
"Look at him," Jake whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Look how badly he wants you."
Nick's eyes locked with Bradley's, the intensity in his dark gaze making her breath catch. His mustache twitched with a hint of a smile that didn't diminish the raw hunger in his expression.
"Please," she breathed, trying to push down against their restraining hands.
Bradley reached between them, guiding himself to her entrance. "Since you asked so nicely," he murmured, nodding to Jake.
Together, they lowered her onto Bradley's length, inch by torturous inch. Nick's mouth fell open in a silent gasp as she stretched around him,the exquisite sensation of fullness making her toes curl. Jake's grip remained firm on her hips, controlling her pace as Bradley filled her completely.
"Fuck," Bradley groaned, his head falling back against the couch as she seated herself fully on him. "You feel incredible."
Nick's inner walls clenched around him, drawing another groan from deep in his chest. Jake's hands slowly released her hips, sliding up to cup her breasts through the revealing lingerie.
"Look at you," Jake murmured, his fingers finding her nipples through the cutouts. "Taking him so well."
Nick began to move, rolling her hips in a slow, sensual rhythm that had Bradley cursing under his breath. The position allowed him to hit spots inside her that made her vision blur with pleasure. Jake continued his exploration of her body, his touch alternating between gentle and demanding as he watched her ride Bradley.
"That's it," Jake encouraged, his voice a seductive purr as he watched the hypnotic rise and fall of her body. "Show us how much you want it."
Nick's pace quickened, her breath coming in short, desperate pants as she chased her pleasure. Bradley's hands gripped her hips harder, guiding her movements as he thrust up to meet her. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by their mingled moans.
"Fuck, Nick," Bradley groaned, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass. "You're so tight around me."
Jake moved closer, his hand sliding between her legs to circle her clit as she rode Bradley. The additional stimulation made her cry out, her rhythm faltering momentarily as pleasure shot through her body.
"Don't stop," Jake commanded, his skilled fingers working in perfect harmony with Bradley's thrusts. "You're going to come for us, aren't you, Nick?"
Nick nodded frantically, words failing her as the dual sensations overwhelmed her senses. Bradley's thickness stretching her perfectly while Jake's fingers worked magic on her clit—it was almost too much to bear.
"I want to hear you say it," Jake insisted, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made her insides liquify. "Tell us you're going to come."
"I'm—I'm going to come," she gasped, her hips moving desperately now. "Oh god, I'm so close."
Bradley's thrusts grew more forceful, his control slipping as her inner walls fluttered around him. "That's it, Beautiful. Let go for us."
Jake leaned in, capturing one of her exposed nipples between his lips, sucking hard as his fingers continued their relentless assault on her clit. The combination of sensations—Bradley filling her completely, Jake's mouth on her breast and his fingers between her legs—pushed Nick over the edge.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried out, her body seizing as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her inner walls clamped down on Bradley's length, pulsing around him as her orgasm tore through her.
Bradley's grip on her hips tightened, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fought against her body's pull. "Fuck, Nick," he groaned, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding back.
Jake continued circling her clit, drawing out her orgasm until she was trembling and gasping for breath. "That's our girl," he murmured.
Bradley's grip on her hips tightened further as Nick continued to ride out her climax, her body quivering with aftershocks. He continued to rut into her, chasing his own orgasm.
"God, Nick—I'm—" Bradley's words dissolved into a guttural moan as his hips bucked upward one final time. His fingers dug into her flesh, anchoring her firmly against him as his body tensed beneath her. His face contorted in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as he pulsed inside her, filling her with his release.
Nick gasped at the sensation, her oversensitive body responding to the heat flooding her core. She collapsed forward against his chest, feeling his thundering heartbeat against her cheek as he continued to twitch inside her.
"Fuck," Bradley breathed, his voice ragged as his hands gentled on her hips, now stroking rather than gripping. They stayed there like that for a moment, Nick clinging to Bradley’s body for support.
Neither her nor Bradley noticed that Jake was taking off his shoes and pants.
Still floating in post-orgasmic bliss, she whimpered as Jake's hands gripped her waist and lifted her off Bradley's lap. The sudden emptiness made her gasp.
"Jake," she protested weakly, her legs unsteady as he held her up and he sat down.
"Shh," Jake soothed.
“Mhmm.”
"My turn," Jake murmured, his voice rough with need as he guided her to straddle his lap. "You promised me a ride too, remember?"
Nick's body was still trembling from her first orgasm, her skin flushed and hypersensitive. She could feel Bradley's release trickling down her inner thigh as Jake positioned her over his impressive erection.
"Give me a second," she panted, her hands bracing against his shoulders. "I need to catch my breath."
Jake's eyes darkened with lust as he looked up at her. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart. I'm enjoying the view." His hands roamed over the intricate lace of her lingerie, fingers tracing the edges where it met her skin. "You look absolutely wrecked. It's a good look on you."
Bradley had collapsed back against the couch, watching them.
Nick shivered as Jake's fingers traced along her oversensitive skin, his touch leaving more goosebumps in its wake. The lingerie, damp from her exertions with Bradley, clung to her curves as she hovered above Jake's lap.
"You're still soaking wet," Jake observed, his fingers sliding between her thighs to collect the evidence of her arousal mixed with Bradley's release. He brought his fingers to her lips
"Open," he commanded softly.
Nick's lips parted obediently, allowing him to slide his fingers into her mouth. The taste of herself mingled with Bradley's essence flooded her senses as Jake watched her with hooded eyes.
"Good girl," he murmured as she sucked his fingers clean. "Ready for me now?"
She nodded, her body already responding to his commanding presence despite her recent climax. Jake positioned himself at her entrance, the blunt head of his cock pressing against her sensitive flesh.
"Take what you want," he challenged, his hands moving to her waist but not guiding her down. "Show me how badly you need me."
Nick sank down slowly, a long moan escaping her as she took him inch by inch. Jake was shaped differently than Bradley—longer where Bradley was thicker—and the new sensation made her gasp as he filled her completely.
"God," Nick gasped, adjusting to the feeling of Jake stretching her in new ways. Her oversensitive nerves sparked with renewed pleasure as she settled fully onto his lap.
Jake's fingers dug into her hips, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. "Take your time, sweetheart," he said through gritted teeth, though the tension in his body betrayed his restraint. "You feel so fucking good."
Nick began to move, finding a rhythm different from the one she'd established with Bradley. Where her ride with Bradley had been wild and urgent, this was slower, more deliberate—a languid roll of her hips that had Jake cursing under his breath.
"That's it," he encouraged, his eyes never leaving her face as she moved above him. "Use me however you want. I'm yours Darlin’."
Bradley had recovered enough to sit up and watch them, his eyes dark with renewed interest.
"Showing up for round two already, Rooster?" Jake's voice was teasing, but his eyes remained locked on Nick as she continued her slow, torturous rhythm.
"Just enjoying the show," Bradley replied, his voice husky as he watched Nick rise and fall on Jake's length. "Our girl knows how to ride."
Nick's lips curved into a satisfied smile, pleased to have both men's attention focused entirely on her. She leaned forward slightly, changing the angle of Jake's penetration, and gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her.
"Right there?" Jake murmured, recognizing her reaction. His hands guided her hips, helping her find that perfect angle again.
"Yes," she breathed, her inner walls clenching around him involuntarily. "God, Jake…"
Jake's control was slipping, his carefully maintained composure cracking as Nick worked herself on his cock. His hips began to thrust upward, meeting her movements with increasing urgency.
"Look at you," he growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. "So fucking beautiful riding me like this. Still sensitive from what Rooster did to you, aren't you?"
Nick nodded, her breath coming in short gasps as pleasure built within her once more. The lingerie clung to her sweat-dampened skin, the lace rubbing against her sensitive nipples with each movement.
Bradley moved closer, his hand reaching out to trace the curve of her spine. "She's close again," he observed, his voice thick with renewed desire. "I can tell by the way she's trembling."
Jake's eyes darkened at Bradley's words. "Is that true, baby? You going to come for me already?"
Nick bit her lower lip, nodding frantically as Jake increased his pace, thrusting deeper with each upward snap of his hips. The oversensitivity from her previous orgasm made every movement feel amplified, electric currents of pleasure shooting through her body.
"I can't help it," she gasped, her fingers digging into Jake's shoulders for support. "You feel too good."
Jake's hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit with unerring precision. "Then don't fight it," he commanded, his voice a velvet growl that sent shivers down her spine. "Let me feel you come apart around me."
“Come with me?” She pleaded.
Jake's eyes darkened at her plea, something primal flashing in their depths.
"Not yet," he growled, his thumb circling her clit with increasing pressure. "I want to feel you come on my cock first. Then I'll fill you up."
Bradley moved closer, watching intently as Nick's movements grew more erratic, her thighs beginning to tremble with the effort of maintaining her rhythm. He reached out, brushing her sweat-dampened hair away from her face with unexpected tenderness.
"Let go, Nick," Bradley encouraged, his voice low and rough. "Show Hangman how good it feels."
The combined attention of both men—Bradley's gentle touch and Jake's relentless pace—pushed Nick toward the edge. Her second orgasm built faster than the first, coiling tight in her lower belly before exploding outward in waves of pleasure that made her cry out.
"Jake!" she gasped, her body convulsing around him as the intensity of her second climax washed over her. Her inner walls clamped down rhythmically, trying to milk him for his release.
Jake hissed through clenched teeth, his hips pistoning upward as he fought to maintain control. "That's it, sweetheart. Squeeze me just like that."
She collapsed forward against his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps against his neck as aftershocks rippled through her. Jake's arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he continued to thrust up into her oversensitive body.
"I can't—it's too much," she whimpered, her hips jerking involuntarily with each thrust.
"Just a little more," Jake murmured against her hair, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate. "I'm almost there."
His grip on her hips tightened as his control finally slipped. With a guttural groan, Jake buried himself to the hilt inside her, his body tensing as his release hit him. Nick gasped at the sensation of his hot seed flooding her already sensitive core, mingling with Bradley's earlier deposit.
"Fuck," Jake breathed, his chest heaving beneath her as he pulsed inside her. His hands gentled on her body, one sliding up to cradle the back of her head while the other stroked soothingly along her spine. "You're incredible."
Nick remained draped over Jake's chest, her body completely spent, while Bradley sat beside them. He was the first to go and move. Wanting to get Nick a wet wash cloth to clean up. But before he could leave the couch Nick grabbed his hand and clutched it to her chest.
"Don't go," she murmured sleepily against Jake's chest, still clinging to Bradley's hand. "Not yet."
Bradley's expression softened as he looked down at her, sweat-dampened and thoroughly satisfied between them. "Just getting something to clean you up, Beautiful."
"Later," Nick insisted, tugging weakly at his hand. "Just… stay here with us for a minute."
Bradley's expression softened as he settled back onto the couch, stroking her hair gently. "Whatever you need, Beautiful."
Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath her cheek. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Someone's feeling cuddly."
“That's what you and Bradly’s loving does to me.” Nick said while cuddling further into Jake's chest.
A lazy smile spread across Jake's face as he nuzzled against her hair. "Is that right? The fearless aerospace engineer gets all soft and needy after a good fuck?"
"Don't tease her," Bradley murmured, though his eyes held the same fond amusement as he watched Nick burrow deeper into Jake's embrace. His hand continued to stroke her hair, fingertips occasionally grazing her cheek.
"I'm not needy," Nick protested weakly, her words muffled against Jake's chest. "I'm… tactically affectionate."
Both men laughed at that, the sound wrapping around her like a warm blanket. She felt Jake shift beneath her, adjusting their position so she wasn't bearing his full weight, while Bradley's thumb traced gentle circles on her palm.
"Tactically affectionate," Jake repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple. "That's one way to put it." He winked at Bradley over her head, a silent communication passing between them again.
Nick huffed, though there was no real annoyance behind it. "You try being coherent after back-to-back orgasms."
"Fair point," Bradley conceded, his mustache twitching with amusement. He glanced down at his watch and sighed. "As much as I hate to break this up, the food Jake brought is getting cold."
Jake nodded, his hands still tracing lazy patterns along Nick's spine. "And I'm starving after that workout."
Nick made a noncommittal sound, reluctant to move from her comfortable position. She could feel both men's releases slowly trickling out of her, a reminder of their shared passion that made her flush with renewed heat despite her exhaustion.
"Five more minutes," she bargained, her eyes drifting closed as she tried to pull Bradley even closer to her.
Jake chuckled, adjusting her slightly on his lap. "Five minutes, then food. And a shower. You're a delicious mess, darlin'."
"Your mess," Nick mumbled, a satisfied smile playing at her lips.
"Our mess," Bradley corrected, his voice a warm rumble as he stroked her hair. "And as much as I'm enjoying this view, I think we should probably clean up before we eat."
Nick made a sound of protest, her limbs feeling wonderfully heavy and uncooperative. "Carry me," she demanded without opening her eyes.
"Bossy even when you're half-asleep," Jake observed, amusement coloring his tone. Nevertheless, he shifted, preparing to stand with her in his arms. "Hold on tight."
Bradley rose first, stretching his muscular frame before extending a hand to help Jake maneuver upright with Nick still wrapped around him. Jake stood with a grunt, supporting Nick's weight easily as her legs instinctively tightened around his waist.
"Shower or bed?" Jake asked, looking to Bradley for input as he adjusted his grip on Nick's thighs.
Bradley considered for a moment, his eyes taking in Nick's thoroughly disheveled state—her messy hair, the lingerie now askew and damp with sweat and other fluids, the visible evidence of both men's pleasure on her inner thighs.
"Shower," he decided, already heading toward the bathroom. "She'll sleep better if she's clean."
Nick mumbled something incoherent against Jake's neck, too blissed out to form proper sentences. The lingering effects of her double orgasm had left her delightfully limp and pliant in Jake's arms.
"Mmm," Nick mumbled, her face pressed into the crook of his neck.
"I'm right here," Jake assured her, his voice a low rumble against her ear as he carried her toward the bathroom. "Just gonna get you cleaned up."
Bradley had already stepped ahead, turning on the shower to let the water warm. Steam began to fill the bathroom as Jake gently set Nick on her feet, keeping one arm around her waist when her knees wobbled.
"Arms up," Bradley instructed softly, his fingers finding the clasps of her lingerie. With practiced ease, he began to remove the complicated garment, careful not to tear the delicate lace despite how tempting it was.
Nick complied drowsily, raising her arms and leaning against Jake for support as Bradley peeled the damp lingerie from her flushed skin. The cool air against her naked body made her shiver slightly, goosebumps rising across her flesh. Her arms instinctively reach out to Jake, trying to find warm in his arms.
Jake chuckled at her seeking hands and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her naked body against his chest. "Cold, baby?"
"Mmm," she hummed, nuzzling into his warmth. Bradley's hands smoothed down her back, coming to rest on her hips as he pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder.
"Water's ready," he murmured, his mustache tickling her skin. "Let's get you warmed up."
Together, they guided her into the shower, the hot spray immediately enveloping her in comforting heat. Nick sighed contentedly as the water cascaded over her sensitive skin, washing away the evidence of their passionate encounter. She leaned back against Bradley's solid chest as Jake reached for the shampoo.
"Close your eyes," Jake instructed, squeezing a generous amount into his palm. His fingers worked the shampoo into her dark hair, producing a small moan from Nick.
“Don't take too long. I want to eat, cuddle and sleep.” She said.
"You'll get all of that, I promise," Bradley murmured against her ear as Jake continued massaging her scalp. His strong hands moved to her shoulders, kneading the tension from her muscles while Jake worked the shampoo through her hair.
Nick hummed with pleasure, surrendering to their care. The hot water sluiced over her body, steam rising around them in the enclosed space. Jake's fingers were gentle yet thorough as they worked through her hair, while Bradley's hands moved lower, soap-slick palms gliding over her skin.
"This is nice," she mumbled, eyes still closed as Jake guided her head under the spray to rinse the shampoo away. "You two spoil me."
"You deserve it," Bradley replied, his hands sliding around to her stomach, carefully washing away the evidence of their lovemaking from her thighs.
Jake reached for the conditioner, working it through her wet strands with the same attentive care. His fingers massaged her scalp in slow circles, drawing another contented sigh from her lips.
"Careful, Hangman," Bradley warned with a chuckle. "Keep that up and she'll fall asleep standing."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Jake replied, his eyes crinkling with affection as he watched Nick's face relax under his ministrations.
Nick's eyes fluttered open, catching Jake's gaze. "I'm awake," she protested weakly, even as she swayed slightly between them.
"Sure you are," Bradley teased, his soapy hands moving to her back, working out knots she hadn't realized were there. "That's why we're the only thing holding you up.”
Nick stuck her tongue out at Bradley, but couldn't deny the heaviness of her limbs or the way her body seemed to melt under their combined attention. Jake tilted her head back under the spray again, carefully rinsing the conditioner from her hair while Bradley finished washing her body.
"Food's getting colder by the minute," Jake replied, reaching for a washcloth. He soaped it thoroughly before handing it to Bradley, who took over cleaning her while Jake quickly washed himself.
"I'm hungry," Nick admitted, more alert now as the warm water revived her slightly. "But this is nice too."
Bradley reached around her to turn off the shower.
"Let's get you dressed and fed," Bradley said, his voice tender as he guided her out of the shower stall.
Jake immediately wrapped her in a large, fluffy towel. The sudden absence of hot water made her shiver again, pressing closer to Jake's warmth as Bradley grabbed another towel and began gently drying her hair.
"I can do that myself, you know," she murmured, though she made no move to take the towel from him.
"We know," Jake replied, rubbing her arms through the towel to generate warmth. "But where's the fun in that?"
Bradley worked methodically through her hair, the towel absorbing most of the moisture before he reached for a wide-toothed comb. With gentle strokes, he worked through the tangles while Jake continued drying her body.
"I'm perfectly capable of—" Nick began.
"Of taking care of yourself. We know," Bradley finished for her, his voice warm with affection rather than condescension. "But right now, you don't have to."
Jake knelt to dry her legs, his movements efficient but tender. "Consider it aftercare, darlin'."
The mention of aftercare made her soften, the last vestiges of protest melting away. This was part of their dynamic—the passionate intensity followed by gentle care, a balance they'd perfected over months of dating.
“But it's your first official full day back from deployment. I should be pampering and taking care of you Jake.”
Jake looked up from where he knelt, his eyes softening as they met hers. "And you did take care of me. In the best possible way." His hands continued their gentle path up her calves. "Now let us return the favor."
Bradley leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he finished combing through her hair. "Besides, I think Jake missed taking care of you while he was gone. I know I would."
Nick's heart swelled at their words, a wave of emotion washing over her that had nothing to do with the physical pleasure they'd shared. These moments—the quiet tenderness after passion had burned itself out—were what made their relationship so much more than just incredible sex.
"Fine," she conceded with a small smile. "But only because you both look so cute when you're being nurturing."
Jake snorted, rising to his feet. "I've been called many things, but 'cute' isn't usually one of them."
"Cute, sexy, infuriating – you're the full package, Hangman," Nick teased, reaching out to touch his face.
Bradley chuckled behind her, wrapping a fresh towel around his waist. "What about me? Am I cute too?"
"You're adorable," Nick replied, turning to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "Especially when you're jealous of compliments I give Jake."
"I'm not jealous," Bradley protested, though his arms tightened around her waist possessively.
"Sure you're not," Jake drawled, grabbing a towel for himself. "That's why you're holding her like someone might snatch her away."
Nick laughed, the sound bright and genuine as Bradley continued to hold her close.
Bradley shifted his grip slightly, like he was making sure Nick was really there, solid and safe in his arms. Jake’s comment lingered between them, heavy with meaning, but Bradley just huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
"I’m not worried about you taking her from me, Hangman. You know she’s ours. Always has been." His fingers brush damp strands of hair from Nick’s cheek, his hold not loosening—just adjusting, grounding himself in her presence.
Then his voice drops, something rough curling at the edges. "But if someone else ever tries to take her from us? They won’t live long enough to regret it."
The intensity in Bradley's voice sent a shiver down Nick's spine, the possessiveness in his words making her feel both protected and desired in equal measure. Jake's eyes met Bradley's over her head, something unspoken passing between them—an agreement, a shared sentiment that needed no verbal confirmation.
"Damn right," Jake murmured, stepping closer to place his hand over Bradley's where it rested on Nick's waist. "We take care of what's ours."
Nick felt her heart swell at their protective instincts, even as she rolled her eyes playfully. "You two are ridiculous. No one's taking me anywhere I don't want to go. Ever." She turned in Bradley's arms, pressing a soft kiss to his chest before looking up at him. "But I appreciate the caveman tendencies. Very sexy."
Bradley's mustache twitched with amusement. "Caveman, huh? Just wait until I drag you back to my cave later."
"Food first," Jake reminded them, securing his towel around his waist. "Then you two can play caveman and cavewoman all you want."
Summary: Jake should have never eaten food off of Fanboy's plate.
Word Count: 6,787
Warnings: Sickness
Tags: fluff
Author Notes: Hey y'all! Sorry for the wait for the next chapter. At one point someone suggested they would like to see Jake hurt and Nick and Bradley taking care of him. Based on what I already had planned for the story I couldn't do anything too dramatic. So that's where this chapter idea was born! To the person that suggested the original idea, I hope it's everything you hoped for! As always don't forget to reblog and comment with your thoughts on the story. Enjoy!
The Dagger Squad had finally gotten their food and were settling into their usual spot in the base cafeteria — the long table near the windows where they always gathered, half out of habit and half because no one else dared to sit there. The room buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos: clattering trays, shouted orders, the hum of pilots swapping stories loud enough to drown out the overhead fans.
Jake set down the container he’d brought from home — mashed potatoes Nick made the night before. He almost never touched cafeteria food unless he had absolutely no choice. Too many questionable meals. Too many horror stories. Too many “mystery meats.”
“Where’s Emily?” Coyote asked Bob as he slid into his seat. “Thought she’d be joining us.”
Bob shook his head. “They got busy in the lab. She couldn’t make it.”
Bradley and Jake exchanged a look — subtle, but meaningful. They’d both been hoping Emily would show up, because if she did, she’d almost certainly drag Nick along with her. And any excuse to see their girl in the middle of the workday was a good one.
Jake stabbed at his mashed potatoes with a little more force than necessary. “Damn shame.”
Bradley leaned in, lowering his voice so only Jake and Coyote could hear. “You just wanted to see Nick.”
Jake didn’t deny it. He didn’t have to. Coyote’s knowing smirk said enough, and Bradley’s whisper kept the comment safely contained.
Before either of them could say more, Coyote recoiled dramatically, nearly dropping his fork. “Fanboy, what the hell is that supposed to be?”
Fanboy looked up proudly. “Spicy fish tacos. The base is trying something new.”
Coyote leaned back like the tray might explode. “They look ridiculous and smell worse. Why are they that color?”
Fanboy shrugged. “Seasoning.”
“Seasoning shouldn’t glow,” Coyote muttered.
“You should try it,” Fanboy insisted, pushing the plate toward him. “It’s actually pretty good. The kitchen finally got something right for once.”
Javy shook his head immediately. “Not a chance in hell. I value my taste buds.”
Fanboy rolled his eyes. “Come on, someone’s gotta be brave enough to try this culinary masterpiece.” His gaze swept the table before landing on Jake. “Hangman? You up for a little adventure? Or are you only brave in the cockpit?”
Jake raised an eyebrow, the challenge lighting up his face. “You questioning my courage, Fanboy?”
“Maybe I am,” Fanboy said with a grin, sliding the tray closer. “One bite. Unless you’re scared like the rest of the squad.”
Jake locked eyes with him, smirk spreading. He picked up one of the questionable tacos with confident fingers.
“You call this a challenge?” he scoffed. “I’ve eaten gas station food that looked worse than this.”
Bradley leaned in slightly, voice low and serious. “Jake… seriously. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Jake shot him a look. “Why not?”
Bradley gestured vaguely at the taco. “Because that thing looks like it’s been left out since last week. And because every time you say ‘I’ve got an iron stomach,’ you end up regretting it. Remember the chili cook‑off? The expired protein bar? The gas station sushi? The—”
“Okay, okay,” Jake cut in, rolling his eyes. “Those were isolated incidents.”
Coyote barked a laugh. “Man, those were not isolated. That was a whole saga.”
Bradley nodded. “Exactly. And I’m telling you — if you eat that, you’re gonna regret it. And when you do, I’m gonna say ‘I told you so’ so loud the tower hears it.”
Jake smirked. “Relax, Rooster. One bite isn’t gonna kill me.”
Bradley muttered, “Famous last words,” under his breath.
But Jake was already lifting the taco.
The table fell silent as he took a substantial bite. He chewed slowly, expression unreadable. Fanboy leaned forward like he was watching a high‑stakes poker game. Coyote covered his nose with his sleeve. Payback looked ready to call 911. And Bob looked like he was going to throw up.
After a long moment, Jake swallowed and shrugged. “Not bad.”
Fanboy pumped a fist triumphantly.
Jake wiped his mouth. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
The table erupted in laughter.
Bob shook his head. “Just wait till later when your stomach revolts. That looks like food poisoning waiting to happen.”
Jake waved him off. “I’ve got an iron stomach. Nothing upsets me.”
Bradley raised an eyebrow. “You keep saying that, but I’m telling you — if you start puking your guts out later, I’m not helping you. I’ll just stand there and say ‘I told you so’ while you suffer.”
Jake smirked. “You won’t get the chance.”
Coyote snorted. “We’ll see.”
Jake ignored them — but Bradley didn’t miss the faint tightening around his eyes. A small, almost imperceptible shift. Something he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t know Jake as well as he did.
And Bradley had a sinking feeling he was absolutely going to get that “I told you so” moment.
Hours later, after drills, briefings, and paperwork, Jake and Bradley finally made it back to Nick’s apartment. The sun had dipped low, painting the parking lot in warm orange light as they climbed the stairs.
Jake was quieter than usual.
Not dramatically — just enough that Bradley noticed. His steps were slower, his jaw tighter, his hand drifting toward his stomach every so often like he was trying to hide the gesture.
“You good?” Bradley murmured as they reached the door.
Jake straightened, forcing ease into his posture. “I’m fine.”
Bradley didn’t believe him — but he let it go. Jake could be stubborn as hell, and pushing him now would only make him dig in deeper.
Nick was standing over a pot of pasta when they walked in, the smell of garlic and butter filling the apartment. She turned toward them with a bright smile.
“Hey, you two. How was work?”
Bradley smiled back.
Jake tried to — but the moment the smell hit him, his stomach twisted sharply. He swallowed hard, forcing his expression to stay neutral.
Nick didn’t notice yet. She was humming softly, plating the pasta.
Bradley shot Jake a look — the kind that said, I knew it.
Jake glared back, but the edge wasn’t there.
Nick set the plates on the counter. “Dinner’s almost done. I made extra garlic bread.”
Jake’s stomach rolled again. He gripped the back of a chair, steadying himself.
Bradley’s eyes flicked to the movement. “You sure you’re okay?”
Jake forced a smirk. “Just tired.”
Bradley didn’t buy it — but he recognized the stubborn set of Jake’s jaw. Fine. If Jake wanted to pretend, Bradley would let him… for now.
Nick turned with three plates in hand. “Okay, dinner is—Jake?”
He was too pale. Too stiff. A sheen of sweat glistened at his hairline.
But Jake plastered on a grin. “Dinner smells great, darlin’.”
Nick frowned. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” Jake said quickly.
Bradley stepped in smoothly. “Long day. He’s wiped.”
Jake shot him a grateful look — but the relief lasted only seconds before another wave of nausea hit him. He clenched his jaw, breathing shallowly.
Nick set the plates down. “Come sit.”
Jake moved carefully, lowering himself into the chair like sudden movement might betray him. Bradley sat across from him, watching every micro‑expression.
Nick nudged Jake’s shoulder. “You look like you got hit by a truck.”
Jake forced a laugh. “Just tired.”
But his hand drifted to his stomach again — unconsciously this time.
Nick noticed.
“Jake…”
He cut her off. “I told you I’m fine.”
Bradley exhaled sharply. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the mystery tacos, would it?”
Jake shot him a warning look. “Rooster.”
Nick blinked. “Mystery tacos?”
Bradley grimaced. “He ate something that looked like it crawled out of the ocean and died twice.”
Nick turned slowly toward Jake. “You ate what?”
Jake lifted his fork, trying to look casual. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Nick stared. “Jake. You don’t even like the food on base.”
“Didn’t want to back down from a challenge.”
Bradley snorted. “And now you’re paying for it.”
Jake ignored him and lifted the fork — but the smell hit him again, stronger. His stomach lurched violently. He set the fork down too fast.
Nick’s eyes widened. “Jake…”
He waved her off, but his hand trembled. “Just… not hungry.”
Bradley leaned forward. “You’re sweating.”
Jake wiped his forehead. “It’s warm in here.”
“It’s sixty‑five degrees,” Nick said flatly.
Jake didn’t respond. Another wave of nausea rolled through him, and he gripped the table edge.
Nick placed a hand on his arm. “Jake. Look at me.”
He did — reluctantly.
His face was pale. His eyes glassy. His jaw clenched like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.
Nick’s expression softened. “Baby… you’re not okay.”
Jake swallowed. “I’m—”
Bradley cut him off. “Don’t. You’re clearly not fine.”
Jake shot him a weak glare.
Nick moved behind him, placing a hand on his back. He flinched — not from pain, but from the effort of keeping his stomach under control.
“Jake,” she whispered, “you’re burning up.”
He shook his head. “Just tired like I said.”
Bradley scoffed. “Tired people don’t look like they’re about to pass out.”
Jake leaned forward, elbows on the table, breathing shallowly. His stomach clenched again, harder, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Nick knelt in front of him, taking his hands. “Jake. Talk to me.”
He didn’t answer at first — too busy fighting the rising nausea.
Finally, he managed, voice strained, “My stomach… feels off.”
Bradley huffed. “Off? You look like death.”
Jake tried to glare but didn’t have the strength.
Nick rubbed slow circles on his back. “When did it start?”
Jake swallowed. “Couple hours after lunch. Got worse in the car.”
Bradley nodded. “He was quiet the whole drive.”
Nick’s worry deepened. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jake closed his eyes. “Didn’t want to worry you.”
Nick squeezed his hands. “You’re allowed to worry me.”
Another wave rolled through him, sharp and sudden. He tightened his grip on her hands, breath catching.
Nick nodded, already moving toward him. “Let’s get you to the couch.”
Jake shook his head. “I can walk.”
He pushed himself up too quickly. The room lurched, tilting hard to the side. His vision blurred, and he swayed, grabbing the back of the chair with a startled, instinctive gasp.
Nick was at his side in an instant. “Easy—Jake, slow down.”
He tried to steady himself, jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”
But the words came out thin and breathless.
Nick and Bradley exchanged a look — the kind that didn’t need words.
He’s not fine.
Not even close.
Jake opened his mouth to insist again, but his stomach surged violently. Heat shot up his throat. He gagged, clamping a hand over his mouth, eyes widening in panic.
The warning he’d been fighting for hours finally broke through.
“Bathroom,” he choked, voice strangled. “Now—”
He didn’t wait. He pushed past Nick with desperate urgency, stumbling down the hallway. One hand dragged along the wall to keep himself upright, the other pressed tightly over his mouth as his body spasmed again.
“Jake!” Nick called, hurrying after him.
Bradley followed, muttering under his breath, “I knew it. I knew it.”
The bathroom door felt impossibly far. Every step sent another nauseating twist through his gut. His vision tunneled, breath coming in shallow, panicked bursts.
He barely made it inside before dropping to his knees in front of the toilet.
The first heave tore out of him violently — a full‑body convulsion that left him shaking. Everything he’d eaten that day came up in brutal, burning waves. The taco, lunch, breakfast — all of it hit the water with a sickening splash.
Nick knelt beside him without hesitation.
Jake barely registered her at first. His world had narrowed to the violent spasms wracking his body, the burn in his throat, the cold sweat dripping down his temples. He gripped the toilet bowl so hard his knuckles blanched.
Nick’s hand found his back, gentle and steady. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice soft against the harsh sounds of his retching. “Just breathe, baby. Let it out.”
Another wave hit him, harder than the first. His whole body jerked forward, a strangled sound ripping from his chest. Tears blurred his vision. His throat felt shredded. His stomach muscles screamed.
Humiliation washed over him almost as strongly as the nausea.
This wasn’t how he wanted Nick to see him — weak, shaking, miserable, paying the price for his own stubborn pride.
Footsteps approached — Bradley.
He froze in the doorway, taking in the scene: Jake hunched over the toilet, Nick holding him steady, the retching echoing off the tile.
“Jesus, man…” Bradley muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t I tell you not to eat those damn tacos?”
“Bradley!” Nick snapped, shooting him a sharp look. “Not now.”
She softened immediately as she turned back to Jake, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. “Ignore him, honey bear. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Jake tried to respond — to defend himself, to tell Bradley to shut up, to reassure Nick — but another brutal heave cut him off. His body convulsed again, emptying what little was left.
“Not… helping…” he gasped between heaves.
Bradley’s expression shifted, the teasing fading. He stepped inside, crouching slightly as if ready to catch Jake if he collapsed.
“Alright, alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll get some water. And a towel.”
He disappeared down the hallway.
Jake slumped forward, chest heaving. His stomach continued to spasm even though there was nothing left. Dry heaves wracked him, violent and painful.
Nick brushed his damp hair back from his forehead. “Shhh… you’re okay. I’m right here.”
Jake squeezed his eyes shut, humiliation burning hotter than the fever creeping through him. “I’m… sorry,” he rasped, voice raw.
Nick shook her head immediately. “No. Don’t apologize. You’re sick. That’s all.”
He let his head hang, breathing hard. The cool porcelain against his feverish skin offered the smallest bit of relief. Nick’s hand never stopped moving — steady, grounding, gentle.
Another dry heave hit him, weaker but still enough to make him groan. Nick tightened her hold on him, supporting his weight as his arms trembled.
“Easy,” she whispered. “It’s almost over.”
Jake didn’t trust himself to speak. His throat felt like he’d swallowed glass. His stomach ached from the force of the vomiting. His whole body shook with exhaustion.
Bradley returned with a glass of water and a cool washcloth. His expression had softened completely — worry etched into every line of his face.
He set everything down quietly. “Here. For when he’s ready.”
Nick nodded gratefully.
Jake didn’t lift his head. He couldn’t. He felt wrung out, hollowed, barely holding himself upright.
Nick shifted closer, letting him lean against her. She wrapped an arm around him, her other hand still stroking his hair.
“You’re okay,” she whispered again.
“I’ve got you.”
Jake let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as the last dry heave left him trembling. His forehead rested against Nick’s shoulder, his entire body sagging with exhaustion.
“Should I text Fanboy and see if he’s sick too?” Bradley asked from the doorway, voice softer now.
Jake didn’t respond at first — just swallowed, throat raw, and gave the smallest nod he could manage.
Nick’s fingers threaded gently through his damp hair as he leaned against her. The bathroom smelled sharply of sickness, bleach, and the faint vanilla wallflower plugged into the outlet. Every breath scraped like sandpaper against his raw throat.
“I’ll be back,” Bradley said, heading out to grab Jake’s phone.
Jake barely registered the sound of his footsteps retreating. His world had shrunk to the cold tile, the burning in his throat, and Nick’s steady presence anchoring him. He wanted to lift his head, to reassure her, to pretend he was fine — but his muscles refused to cooperate.
Nick pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Think you’re done?” she murmured.
Jake swallowed painfully. “Maybe,” he croaked.
She reached for the washcloth Bradley had brought, the cool dampness a blessing against his feverish skin as she wiped his face. Jake closed his eyes, surrendering to her care.
“Can you take a sip of water?” she asked gently.
He shook his head weakly. “Not yet.”
“Just a small sip,” Nick coaxed. “To rinse your mouth. You don’t have to swallow.”
Jake hesitated, then gave a tiny nod. The taste in his mouth was unbearable. Nick held the glass to his lips, tipping it carefully. The water felt like ice against his burning throat. He swished it weakly and spat it into the toilet.
“Good,” Nick whispered, setting the glass aside and resuming her gentle strokes.
Jake let out a shaky sigh, leaning more heavily into her. His body felt too hot and too cold at the same time — fever prickling under his skin while cold sweat dripped down his spine.
Bradley returned with Jake’s phone.
“Alright,” he said, crouching beside them. “I texted Fanboy.”
Jake cracked one eye open. “What’d you say?”
Bradley cleared his throat dramatically. “I said: ‘Hey man, how you feeling after lunch? My stomach’s killing me.’”
Jake groaned. “You didn’t have to make me sound pathetic.”
Bradley shrugged.
“You are pathetic right now.”
Nick shot him a look, but Bradley softened it with a small smile.
“Anyway,” he continued, “Fanboy says he’s fine. The bastard. He thinks it’s the potatoes you ate.”
Jake let out a weak, incredulous laugh that quickly turned into a wince. “Tell him he’s a dead man.”
Bradley smirked. “Want me to send him a picture of you like this? Really sell the drama?”
Jake’s head jerked up half an inch — pure horror. “Don’t you dare.”
Bradley chuckled. “Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.”
Nick rolled her eyes, but a tiny smile tugged at her lips. She knew exactly what Bradley was doing — trying to lighten the mood, trying to distract Jake from the misery, trying to make him feel less embarrassed.
Jake sagged again, resting his head against Nick’s chest. “I can’t believe I let him talk me into that.”
“You let your pride talk you into it,” Bradley corrected. “You and your damn competitive streak.”
Nick pressed the cool washcloth to the back of Jake’s neck. He leaned into the sensation with a small, grateful sigh. His fever was climbing now — she could feel the heat radiating off him.
“You’re burning up,” she whispered, worry tightening her voice.
Jake didn’t answer. His eyes were half‑lidded, unfocused, his breathing shallow. The adrenaline from vomiting had worn off, leaving him shaky and drained.
Bradley noticed too. His teasing faded. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you still with us?”
Jake nodded faintly.
Nick adjusted her hold so he could lean more comfortably against her. “We should get him off the floor,” she murmured. “He’s freezing.”
“And sweating,” Bradley added. “That’s a great combo.”
Nick shot him a look. “Bradley.”
He held up his hands. “I’m just saying.”
Jake let out a weak groan, the sound muffled against Nick’s shirt. “Can’t… move yet.”
“I know,” she soothed, brushing her thumb along his cheek. “We’re not rushing you.”
Bradley sat down fully on the floor now, settling in. “Fanboy texted again,” he said, glancing at the phone. “He wants to know if you need anything.”
Jake didn’t lift his head. “Tell him… yeah. A new stomach.”
Bradley snorted. “On it.”
He typed quickly.
Nick watched him. “What did you actually say?”
Bradley smirked. “I said: ‘Still alive. Barely. Might need you to write my will.’”
Jake let out a weak huff of laughter. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah,” Bradley said softly, “but I’m your idiot.”
Nick’s heart squeezed at that — the tenderness buried under the banter.
Jake’s body sagged again, heavier this time. His breathing slowed, but not in a peaceful way — more like he was fighting to stay present.
Nick cupped his cheek. “Hey. Look at me.”
Jake forced his eyes open, pupils unfocused.
“You’re okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
Bradley nodded. “And we’re not leaving this bathroom until you’re steady enough to move.”
Jake exhaled weakly, his body loosening as exhaustion pulled at him. His hand twitched against Nick’s thigh, the closest he could get to grounding himself.
Nick brushed her thumb along his cheekbone. “He’s burning up,” she murmured.
Jake’s eyes drifted shut again.
Nick leaned closer, her lips near Bradley’s ear. “Bradley… should we… does he need a hospital?”
She said it quietly — but Jake still heard. His eyes fluttered open, hazy.
Bradley shook his head gently. “Nick… I know it’s scary. But Jake’s tough. This is just food poisoning. He’ll get through it.”
Nick swallowed, her breath trembling.
“He’s so pale. And he’s shaking.”
Bradley softened. “I know. But he just needs time. And rest. And enough strength to get up so we can get him to bed.”
Jake let out a faint groan. “’M not… that bad,” he whispered. “Don’t… take me anywhere.”
Nick’s breath hitched. “Baby, I wasn’t—”
“You were,” he murmured. “I heard you.”
Bradley huffed a quiet laugh. “Man’s half-dead and still listening in.”
Jake tried to glare at him but didn’t have the strength.
Nick stroked his hair. “I just… you scared me. You still are.”
Jake swallowed, throat burning. “Just… need a minute.”
Bradley nodded. “He’s right. He needs a minute to get his bearings. Then we’ll help him up.”
Jake made a weak noise of agreement.
Nick pressed her forehead gently to his. “Okay. But if you get worse, we’re going. No arguments.”
Jake didn’t argue.
Bradley rewet the washcloth and pressed it to the back of Jake’s neck. “Here. This’ll help cool him down.”
Jake let out a soft, grateful sigh.
Nick looked up at Bradley, eyes glassy. “Thank you.”
Bradley shrugged. “Hey. We’re a team. When one of us goes down, the other two pick him up.”
Jake made a faint sound — something between a groan and a laugh. “Didn’t… go down.”
Bradley smirked. “Buddy, you’re literally on the bathroom floor.”
Jake didn’t have the energy to argue.
Nick kissed the top of his head. “Just rest. We’re right here.”
Jake’s breathing slowed, his body finally relaxing as the worst of the nausea ebbed. His muscles trembled with the aftershocks, each breath a shaky, uneven pull. Sweat cooled on his skin, leaving him chilled and feverish all at once.
Nick kept one arm wrapped around him, the other stroking gently through his hair. She didn’t speak. She didn’t rush him. She just held him, grounding him with her warmth and steady presence.
Bradley stayed close on the floor beside them, elbows resting on his knees, watching Jake with a steady, protective focus.
Jake’s breathing slowed, his body finally relaxing—just easing—against her as the worst of the nausea ebbed. His muscles trembled with the aftershocks, each breath a shaky, uneven pull. Sweat cooled on his skin, leaving him chilled and feverish all at once.
Nick kept one arm wrapped around him, the other stroking gently through his hair. She didn’t speak. She didn’t rush him. She just held him, grounding him with her warmth and steady presence.
Bradley still sat on the floor beside them, back against the tub, watching Jake with a mixture of worry and that familiar I told you so simmering behind his eyes. But he kept it to himself now.
“Do you need anything else?” Bradley asked quietly.
Jake didn’t answer right away. His throat felt shredded, his stomach hollow and aching. He drew in a slow breath, trying to steady himself.
Nick shifted slightly, brushing another damp strand of hair off his forehead. “Anything at all?” she murmured. “Just tell us.”
Jake’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his raw throat. He swallowed again, grimacing.
Nick hesitated before adding softly, “I have something I take for nausea. It might help you feel better.”
Jake didn’t react at first. He was too tired, too wrung out, too overwhelmed by the lingering waves of sickness rolling through him. But he heard the tremor in her voice — the fear she was trying so hard to hide.
He hated that he’d put it there.
His muscles felt like liquid, his bones hollowed out. The fever made everything distant and dreamlike, except for the sharp pangs still twisting through his gut.
“I don’t know if I could swallow anything…” he rasped.
Nick shook her head gently. “You don’t have to swallow it. It dissolves under your tongue.”
Jake closed his eyes again, breathing shallowly. The idea of putting anything in his mouth made his stomach clench in warning.
Bradley noticed the tension ripple through him. “Hey,” he said softly, “you don’t have to take anything right now.”
Jake let out a shaky exhale, grateful for the out.
Nick didn’t push. She just kept stroking his hair, her touch soft and rhythmic. “It doesn’t taste great,” she admitted quietly. “But it works. It really does.”
Jake didn’t respond. He wasn’t ready. His body was still too raw, too reactive. Even the thought of shifting his weight made his stomach flutter uneasily.
A long moment passed — quiet except for Jake’s uneven breaths and the faint hum of the bathroom fan.
Bradley reached for the washcloth again, rewetting it and pressing it gently to the back of Jake’s neck. “You’re cooling down a little,” he murmured. “That’s good.”
Jake didn’t lift his head, but he leaned slightly into the coolness.
Nick brushed her thumb along his cheek. “How’s your stomach now?”
Jake swallowed, grimacing. “Still… bad,” he whispered.
“Bad like you’re gonna be sick again?” Bradley asked.
Jake hesitated, then shook his head weakly. “Just… feels wrong.”
Nick’s heart clenched. “Baby…”
Jake forced his eyes open, meeting hers for a moment. “You’re sure this medicine will help.”
She nodded immediately. “I do.”
He swallowed again, wincing at the burn. “What… what does it taste like?”
Nick smiled softly. “Artificial cherries. So not the best flavor.”
Jake groaned. “Great.”
“But,” she added gently, “it works fast. And you don’t have to swallow it. Just let it sit there.”
Jake’s stomach twisted again — not violently, but enough to make him clench his jaw.
Nick nodded, relief softening her features. “Okay. Bradley could you grab the medicine? It's in my nightstand.”
Bradley pushed himself up from the floor, moving quickly. “Be right back.”
Nick shifted slightly, adjusting her hold on Jake. “You’re doing great,” she whispered, pressing her lips against his temple.
“Think… think I can move now,” he murmured, though he wasn’t entirely sure. The bathroom had stopped spinning at least, which seemed like progress.
“Let’s get you up, then,” Nick said, her voice laced with concern.
Jake nodded weakly, bracing himself. This would be the first time he’d tried to stand since dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. Nick shifted, sliding her arm around his waist to support his weight. He placed one trembling hand against the cool tile wall, drawing in a shaky breath.
“On three,” she murmured. “One… two… three.”
Jake pushed upward. His legs quivered like overcooked noodles beneath him. The bathroom tilted alarmingly for a moment, and his stomach gave a weak protest — not the same lurch from earlier, but a deep, raw twist that reminded him just how thoroughly he’d emptied himself. He made it halfway before his knees buckled. His weight slumped heavily against Nick, nearly dragging her down with him.
“Whoa,” she gasped, struggling to keep them both upright. He was boneless with exhaustion, far too heavy for her alone. “Bradley!” she called, her voice sharp with urgency. “I need you in here!”
Bradley appeared almost instantly, the foil packet already in one hand. He shoved it toward Nick as he caught Jake under the other arm, his grip steady and sure. “Got him.”
The extra support kept Jake from collapsing back onto the tile. He sagged between them, breath hitching as a fresh wave of dizziness rolled through. His knees felt useless, shaky as a newborn colt’s, and the humiliation burned even through the fog. But he wasn’t alone — Nick’s hand stayed firm at his side, Bradley’s warm and solid around his bicep, her cooler fingers splayed against his ribs through the damp shirt. Their presence was the only thing anchoring him upright.
“Easy,” Nick murmured, taking the medicine from Bradley without letting go of him for long. “Easy, baby.”
Jake let his head fall forward, forehead nearly brushing Bradley’s shoulder. “I’m gonna kill Fanboy,” he muttered hoarsely.
Bradley gave a short huff that might’ve been a laugh. “Get in line.”
They held him steady until the room stopped pitching quite so violently. Jake could feel the difference already — the sharpest edge of the nausea had backed off half a step, leaving behind a heavy, bruised ache instead of something trying to claw its way free.
“Don’t move,” Bradley said.
“Wasn’t planning on tap dancing,” Jake rasped. His own voice sounded wrecked, scraped raw from everything he’d brought up earlier.
Nick tore open the foil packet. “Can you lift your tongue for me?”
Jake managed a miserable look in her direction. “You make everything sound so sexy, darlin’.”
“Shut up,” she said, but her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “Open.”
He did, barely. She slid the little tablet under his tongue with careful fingers. The artificial cherry taste hit almost immediately — too sweet, too fake, clinging to the back of his throat in a chalky, grainy film that made his stomach twitch faintly.
He grimaced. “That’s vile.”
“You’re welcome,” Nick murmured, her breath brushing warm against his cheek.
They stayed like that for another long minute while he breathed through the lingering dizziness. The tablet dissolved slowly, leaving that unpleasant sweetness behind. Jake swallowed on instinct and immediately regretted it as his throat flared with a fresh burn. “Jesus.”
“Small breaths,” Nick said softly. “Just let it work.”
Bradley kept his grip firm and unshakable. “Think you can make it to the bed now, or are we setting up camp in the bathroom?”
Jake shut his eyes for a second. The tile was cool under his bare feet, the air thick with the faint smell of soap and lingering sickness. His stomach still sat heavy inside him, completely empty now, but the medicine was already dulling the worst of the threats. “Bed,” he muttered. “Definitely bed.”
“Alright,” Bradley said. “But you lean on us, got it? None of that macho bullshit.”
Jake would’ve told him off if he’d had any strength left. Instead, he gave the tiniest nod.
They moved in slow, awkward shuffles out of the bathroom and straight into the bedroom, the distance only a few short feet. Bradley had one arm hooked solidly around him, and Nick stayed close on his other side, her hand warm and steady against his ribs. Jake kept his gaze fixed on the floor because looking anywhere else still made the room sway gently. It should have been embarrassing — needing both of them just for those few steps — and it was. But every time he tried to take more of his own weight, his knees threatened to fold again. His pride could sit down and shut up for once.
They guided him around to the side of the bed he usually slept on. The bedroom was dim, lit mostly by the last golden wash of evening pushing through the curtains. The mattress looked absurdly inviting after the cold tile.
“Almost there,” Nick murmured.
“I know where the bed is,” Jake muttered.
“Congratulations,” Bradley said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Still walking like Bambi on ice, though.”
Jake would have flipped him off if either hand had been free. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other until the backs of his legs finally brushed the mattress. Relief washed through him, soft and bone-deep.
“Sit,” Nick said gently.
“Was already planning on it, sweetheart.”
The smart answer came out thin and rough, nowhere near his usual confident drawl. He let himself drop the last few inches onto the bed, catching himself with one shaky hand. The room tipped briefly, then settled into a slow, manageable sway.
Bradley crouched in front of him, hands hovering near Jake’s knees like he still didn’t quite trust gravity. “Stay put.”
Jake looked down at him through half-lidded eyes. “You always this bossy?”
“Only when you poison yourself for fun.”
Jake let his head bow for a moment, too tired to fire back properly. The mattress dipped as Nick moved around him, pulling the covers back with quick, efficient movements. A drawer opened. Fabric rustled. The low hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet, its cool breeze welcome against his damp, overheated skin.
“You need to get out of this shirt,” she said.
Jake lifted his head enough to squint at her. “You trying to cop a feel while I’m dying, Mitchell?”
His voice was scraped raw, but it earned him exactly what he wanted — a soft huff of laughter from her.
“Tragic that you’re still flirting,” she said, eyes warm with affection. “Can you lift your arms?”
He glanced down at the damp collar clinging uncomfortably to his back. He felt grimy, overheated, and vaguely poisoned from the inside out. “Yeah.”
That turned out to be a lie.
He got one arm halfway up before his stomach gave a faint clench and the room shifted sideways again. Bradley’s hand landed on his shoulder immediately, steadying him. “Liar,” Bradley said, already reaching in to help.
Jake didn’t have the energy to argue. He let them work together — Bradley easing one sleeve off while Nick carefully worked the hem over his head. The movement pulled a muted protest from his stomach, but it was dulled now, just an ugly echo rather than something clawing up his throat. The tablet’s nasty cherry film still lingered, grainy and sweet in the worst way, but the violent spinning had eased into a heavy, foggy drift.
Cooler air hit his bare skin. He shivered anyway.
Nick was in front of him again, holding a soft, clean T-shirt. “Here. This way you don’t get the bed all sticky.”
They helped him into it, the fabric blessedly gentle against his clammy skin. Once he was settled back against the propped pillows, Nick disappeared for a moment and returned with a fresh cool washcloth and a glass of water.
“Small sips,” she said, pressing the straw to his lips first. “Just enough to wash that taste away.”
Jake took a tentative sip. The water was cool and clean. It soothed his raw throat and rinsed some of the chalky cherry film from his mouth. A second small sip followed, and his stomach accepted it without much complaint — empty now, but no longer threatening rebellion. He sighed as Nick laid the refreshed washcloth across his forehead, the chill seeping in like a quiet promise of relief.
“That’s better,” he whispered, eyes already drifting shut. The exhaustion tugged at him harder now, heavy and insistent, the kind that followed emptying everything out and finally feeling the medicine start to take hold.
Nick brushed damp strands of hair from his temple. Bradley settled on one side of the bed, solid and present, while she took the other.
“Stay?” Jake mumbled, half-gone already.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Bradley answered softly.
“I was talking to our girl Bradley not you,” he groaned as he reached for Nick's hand.
Nick’s fingers slid into his, squeezing once. “I know who you were talking to,” she murmured.
Bradley made a rough sound that might have been a laugh. “Unbelievable.”
“But I also know that you want Bradley here. Because you realize I can't sleep without either of you,” she said.
Jake cracked one eye open.
Nick sat beside him in the dim light, her hand wrapped around his, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. Bradley was already climbing onto the other side of the bed, muttering under his breath like he had complaints, but he was still there, still staying. That was the thing. Bradley could gripe all night and never once leave.
Jake let his eyes fall shut again.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, voice wrecked. “Fine. Both of you.”
Nick gave his hand another squeeze, then glanced toward the nightstand. “You want a little more water? I can grab it.”
Jake made a faint sound that was probably supposed to be yes. His throat still felt flayed open, and the couple of sips he’d managed had only reminded him how dry his mouth was.
“I’ve got it,” Bradley said.
Nick was already moving. “I’m closer.”
The mattress shifted as she leaned away, reaching for the glass. Ice clicked softly. Jake tracked the sound more than the motion, too tired to lift his head much. When she slid back beside him, the straw touched his lower lip.
“Just a bit,” she murmured.
He obeyed this time without any smart answer, taking two careful sips. Cool water washed away the stale acid taste still clinging to the back of his tongue. His stomach gave a weak, suspicious twist, then settled again.
“There you go,” Nick said softly. “Now how about we go to bed?”
Jake made a tired sound in the back of his throat and gave the smallest nod he could manage. “Yeah. Bed sounds real good.”
Nick’s mouth softened into something that looked like relief. “Okay.” She brushed her knuckles over his cheek once. “I’m gonna change first. Two minutes.”
“Take your time,” Bradley said from the other side, already shoving his own legs farther under the covers.
Jake wanted to tell them both to stop fussing.
What came out instead was a hoarse, useless, “Mm.”
Nick leaned over him long enough to kiss his temple, then slipped off the bed. He heard the soft shuffle of her steps crossing the room, the rustle of fabric, a drawer sliding open. Bradley, meanwhile, settled in beside him with all the weight and heat of a man making it very clear he was staying put.
The mattress dipped further. A hand brushed lightly over Jake’s ribs through the shirt, checking, grounding, probably both.
“You still with me?” Bradley asked quietly.
Jake cracked an eye open. Bradley’s face was a little blurred at the edges in the low light, mustache and all, but close enough to make out the line between his brows. “Unfortunately.”
That earned him a faint snort. “Good. Means you’re not dead.”
“Disappointed?”
“Devastated.”
“Hey! Be nice to him. He doesn’t feel well,” Nick chastised.
Jake let his head roll a fraction toward Nick’s voice.
She stood by the dresser in one of his old shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, hair falling loose now around her shoulders, looking soft and warm and entirely too good for a man currently recovering from losing a fight with a fish taco.
Bradley lifted both hands in surrender, though one of them stayed braced on Jake’s side. “I am being nice.”
“You’re being you,” Nick said, climbing back onto the bed.
“Which is a public service.”
Jake shut his eyes again. “Please,” he muttered, voice frayed to hell, “save the flirting till I’m less poisoned.”
That got him a quiet laugh from both of them, low and familiar and close enough to settle something in his chest.
The bed shifted as Nick slid in between them. Cool fingers touched his forehead, then his cheek, checking. Making sure he was okay. “You-.”
“I’m fine Darlin’. Lets go to sleep kay?” He softly murmured.
Nick made a soft sound like she didn’t believe him for a second, but she didn’t argue. Instead she shifted closer, slid down carefully beside him, and spread one hand over the center of his chest. Then the other. A second later she tucked herself in against him and laid her cheek there too, right over his heartbeat, her hair spilling warm across his shoulder and throat.
The weight of her wasn’t much, but it grounded him all the same.
Jake let out a long breath through his nose. Her palms were cool against the fever heat still trapped under his skin, and the steady press of her ear over his chest made something in him unclench. He could feel each weak thud of his heart against her cheek. Feel her breathing too, slow and even, syncing up around him like she was trying to coax his body into following suit.
“There,” she murmured, voice muffled against his shirt. “Now go to sleep.”
He hummed as Bradley wrapped his arms around Nick, sandwiching her in between them.
Summary: Phoenix shows up at Bradley's to confront him about the blind date.
Word Count: 4,579
Warnings: Angst
Tags: Angst
Author Notes: Hey y'all! This chapter was a bitch to get up. The file was corrupted and I had to go through and do rewriting and remove things and add things and it took forever. But I was finally able to finish it just in time to post it. This chapter is going to be very angsty and drama-filled so I hope you're ready! Because Nick Jake and Bradley they're not so ready. But anyways don't forget to comment or we blog your thoughts on this chapter and as always enjoy!
“You sure you don’t want to meet up with us?” Nick asked over the phone, her voice bright with the kind of energy she always had before doing something athletic and mildly dangerous.
“I’m sure,” Bradley said, closing the dishwasher and hitting the start button. “Rock climbing is more your thing with Jake. Plus I’ve got some things to do around the house.”
“Okay. We’ll see you after then?”
“I’ll be here.”
There was a small pause, the soft kind that always came before she said it. “Okay. I love you, Bradley.”
Bradley froze for half a second, letting the words settle into him the way they always did—warm, grounding, hitting him with the force of g‑forces in a tight turn. Even after months of hearing it, it still landed with the same intensity.
“I love you too, Nick,” he said, his voice softening. He ended the call and set his phone on the counter, the kitchen suddenly quiet in a way that felt both peaceful and a little too still.
Truth was, he did want to join them. He always wanted to be with them. But he also knew Nick and Jake needed their time together—just like he and Jake did, or he and Nick. That was the balance they were still learning: three separate relationships existing inside one connection, each one needing space to breathe.
He wiped down the counters, his mind drifting. Six months ago, his life had been nothing but flying, training, and the next mission. Then Hurricane Nick had blown into his life at the Hard Deck, and everything had shifted—fast, chaotic, and somehow exactly right.
The doorbell rang, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He tossed the rag aside and headed for the door. When he opened it, he blinked in surprise.
Phoenix stood there.
She was ramrod straight, posture perfect even in off‑duty clothes—dark jeans, a fitted navy denim jacket, hair pulled back with military precision. Somehow she still looked like she was reporting for duty.
“Rooster,” she said, tone clipped, formal. Too formal for showing up unannounced at his home.
“Phoenix,” Bradley replied, eyebrows lifting. “What brings you here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the other night. The double date with Alec and his sister.”
Bradley hesitated, thrown off balance. Phoenix showing up at his apartment was unusual enough—showing up to talk about that night was even stranger.
“Right,” he said finally, stepping back. “Come in.”
Phoenix brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his as she entered. Her eyes swept the apartment with a sharpness he’d never noticed before—like she was cataloging every detail, every change, every clue.
“Thanks,” she said, though her attention was still on the room. She nodded toward the couch. “Mind if I sit?”
Bradley gestured for her to go ahead. “Can I get you something? Water? Beer?”
“Water’s fine.”
He grabbed two glasses and returned, handing her one before sitting in the armchair across from her—giving her space, but also giving himself room to breathe.
“So,” he said after a beat, “the double date?”
Phoenix took a slow sip of water, then set the glass down with precision. “What the hell happened that night? You were completely rude the whole time.”
“To be fair,” Bradley said, leaning forward, “you ambushed me. I thought I was having dinner with my friend and her boyfriend. Then his sister walks in as my ‘date.’”
“So that gave you the right to be on your phone the whole night?”
Bradley winced. “No. You’re right about that.”
“And then leaving right after dessert with some half‑assed excuse about an early morning?” Phoenix continued, eyes narrowing. “You couldn’t have been more of an ass if you tried.”
“To be fair,” Bradley repeated, “Alec said he got called into the hospital. What did you want me to do? Insist the three of us hang back at the restaurant?”
She shook her head, annoyed. “I took the time to set you up with Claire.”
“A setup I didn’t know was happening,” Bradley shot back, his voice rising. “I walked into that restaurant completely blindsided.”
Phoenix’s eyes sharpened. “Claire is fantastic. Smart, accomplished, and frankly, way out of your league. She deserved better than you checking your phone every five minutes like you were waiting for rescue coordinates.”
Bradley exhaled slowly, trying to keep his temper in check. “Look, I appreciate what you were trying to do. But you should’ve asked me first.”
“Would you have said yes?” she challenged.
“Probably not,” he admitted. “Which is exactly my point. You know I don’t do setups.”
Phoenix leaned forward, elbows on her knees, studying him like he was a malfunctioning engine she couldn’t diagnose. “That’s what I don’t understand, Rooster. Six months ago, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet someone like Claire. What’s changed?”
The question hit harder than he expected.
His pulse kicked up—the same way it did before a risky maneuver. He’d spent years perfecting his poker face, but lately he’d learned it wasn’t as good as he thought. And even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Not about Nick. Not about Jake. Not about the three of them.
He took a slow breath. “I’m just not looking to date right now,” he said, the half‑truth sitting heavy on his tongue. “I’ve got other priorities.”
“Bullshit,” Phoenix said flatly. “You’ve been different lately. Not just with women. In the air too.”
Bradley stiffened. “Different how?”
“Lighter,” she said. “Less rigid. You fly like someone who’s got something to lose now. You used to throw yourself into every maneuver like you had nothing to come back to.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Nick and Jake had changed him—in the cockpit, in his home, in his heart. Everything felt higher stakes now.
“Maybe I’m just evolving as a pilot,” Bradley said, leaning back with forced ease. “It’s called maturity, Phoenix.”
“Bullshit,” she repeated, setting her glass down with a sharp clink. “I know what it looks like when someone’s hiding something. Is it Jake? Are you two really dating?”
Bradley felt adrenaline spike, but he kept his expression neutral. “No, we’re not dating. Look, I was in the middle of cleaning when you showed up. If you want to continue this conversation, it’s going to have to wait while I put a load of laundry in.”
He stood, muscles tight with controlled urgency. “Make yourself at home,” he added, knowing full well Phoenix would do exactly that—though not in the way he intended.
As he walked down the hallway toward the laundry room, his mind raced. Six months of careful compartmentalization threatened to unravel because of one dinner he hadn’t even wanted to attend. The secret wasn’t just his—it was Nick’s and Jake’s too. And Phoenix was too sharp for comfort.
Back in the living room, Phoenix waited until Bradley disappeared before rising silently from the couch. Her eyes swept the apartment again, this time with purpose.
Something was off.
Something had been off for months.
The apartment looked mostly the same—minimalist, organized, familiar. But there were details she couldn’t ignore:
A leather jacket by the door that was too big to be Bradley’s.
A colorful throw blanket on the couch that didn’t match his usual muted palette.
Science journals on the coffee table—definitely not his reading material.
Her instincts prickled.
Something was going on with Rooster.
And she intended to find out what.
She quietly approached his desk and inspected the photographs on the shelf above. Most of them were familiar: Bradley in his flight suit, his TOPGUN graduation, and an old picture of him with his father. However, there was a new addition—a black and white photograph of a nude woman. She appeared to be lying on a bed, her face obscured, but a pair of dog tags dangled from her neck. Most of her private areas were concealed; her left breast was covered by a strong, masculine hand, leaving the other exposed. Another male hand was visible in the photo, distinct from the first, seemingly grasping her crotch.
Phoenix froze, her eyes locked on the photograph. She picked it up carefully, studying the intimate image with growing confusion. Two different men’s hands on one woman… The dog tags caught her attention, glinting even in the muted tones of the black and white print. Something about them seemed familiar.
She tilted the photo, trying to catch better light on the tags, but still couldn’t make out the writing on them. That’s when she noticed Bradley’s computer out of the corner of her eye. It was on.
Phoenix hesitated, glancing back toward the hallway. She could hear the distant sound of the washing machine starting up. Ethics warred briefly with curiosity, but her concern for Bradley won out. She moved to the computer, where the screen had gone dark in sleep mode.
A quick tap on the keyboard brought it to life. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but when she saw a folder labeled Personal, something inside her stirred. Phoenix hesitated only a moment before clicking the folder, justifying her invasion of privacy with concern for her friend.
Immediately, the screen filled with photos.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The images were intimate—some artistic, others raw and explicit. Bradley with a woman whose face was often just out of frame. The same woman with another man. And in some photos, all three together in various states of undress and intimacy. The black and white photo on his desk had clearly been selected as the most presentable of the collection.
She was about to click on another image when she noticed a video mixed in with the photos.
Her finger hovered over the mousepad, hesitating. This was already crossing a line, but something compelled her forward. She clicked the video file.
The thumbnail expanded, and Phoenix felt her stomach drop. The video began to play, showing Bradley, his face flushed and hair disheveled, looking directly at the camera with an expression she’d never seen before—open, unguarded. A woman’s laugh came from behind the camera. The frame shifted, revealing him and the woman fully.
“You’re wearing my tags while Rooster’s fingers are inside you, I’d say that’s agreement enough,” a second voice said from behind the camera.
It took a moment, but she recognized the voice.
Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
The camera adjusted, and Phoenix caught a clearer glimpse of the woman’s face as she arched against Bradley’s chest. Dark hair fell across her features, but there was enough visible for Phoenix to recognize her.
Nick Mitchell.
Phoenix felt the room tilt as the reality crashed over her. Nick Mitchell—Captain Maverick’s daughter—naked between Bradley and Jake. The woman they were both touching, both claiming.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk as the video continued to play.
“Answer when you’re spoken to,” Bradley commanded in the video, his voice carrying an edge she rarely heard outside the cockpit.
“Yes… yes, Master, I know exactly what I do to you both,” Nick moaned.
Natasha’s heart hammered in her chest as she watched, unable to look away. The scene before her was shocking and intimate in a way she’d never associated with Bradley. The man she knew as steady, controlled, almost old‑fashioned in his restraint was here—undeniably, unapologetically—part of something raw and vulnerable and completely outside her expectations.
She didn’t know how long she watched before the sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped her back to reality.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Bradley’s voice cut through the room like a knife.
Phoenix spun around, caught completely off‑guard—a sensation as foreign to her as failure. Bradley stood in the doorway, his face drained of color, eyes fixed on the computer screen where his most intimate secret played out in high definition.
“I…” For once, Phoenix found herself without a tactical response. The video continued playing, Nick’s moans filling the silence between them.
Bradley lunged forward, slamming the laptop closed with enough force that Phoenix flinched. His breathing was ragged, like he’d just completed a high‑G maneuver without proper preparation.
“You had no right,” he said, voice dangerously quiet. “No fucking right to go through my personal files.”
Phoenix straightened her spine, defaulting to the defensive posture that had served her well through countless confrontations. “And you have no right to be sleeping with your commanding officer’s daughter in some twisted threesome,” she shot back, finally finding her voice. Her tone was sharp enough to cut steel. “Do you have any idea what you’re risking? What all three of you are risking?”
Bradley’s jaw tightened as he stepped between her and the computer, instinctively positioning himself like a shield. “This isn’t about risk assessment, Phoenix. This is about my private life — the one you just violated.”
“Private life?” Phoenix let out a brittle, humorless laugh. “There’s nothing private about career suicide, Rooster. You’re sleeping with Maverick’s daughter — and Hangman, for Christ’s sake. The same Hangman who’s been riding your ass since day one.”
Bradley’s eyes darkened. “You don’t know anything about us.”
“‘Us,’” Phoenix repeated, tasting the word like it was foreign. “So there is an ‘us.’ The three of you. Are you gay or something? Because in that video, you were with Jake and Nick.”
Bradley swallowed hard. “It’s not like that. Jake and I aren’t together. We’re both with Nick.”
Phoenix blinked, recalibrating. “So what — you’re sharing her? Like some kind of time‑share arrangement?”
“Don’t you dare talk about her like that,” Bradley snapped. “It’s a relationship. All three of us. It’s called polyamory.”
Phoenix crossed her arms. “So let me get this straight… you’re in a relationship with Nick and Jake?”
“It’s not illegal.”
“Fraternization, Rooster. The UCMJ doesn’t exactly have a polyamory exception clause. And what about Maverick? You think he’s going to be thrilled his daughter is in a three‑person relationship with two of his pilots?”
Bradley dragged a hand through his hair. “We’re careful. Nick isn’t in our chain of command. She’s a civilian engineer.”
“A civilian engineer with top‑level clearance who works on the same base as you both,” Phoenix shot back. “And her father is your commanding officer. How do you think this plays out when — not if — this gets discovered?”
Bradley’s shoulders tensed. “It won’t get discovered.”
“I found out,” Phoenix said.
“You snooped through my fucking computer. Something Mav would never do.”
Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe not. But you’re missing the point. This isn’t just about breaking rules, Bradley. It’s about trust. Unit cohesion. What happens in combat when you have to choose between the mission and protecting your girlfriend’s other boyfriend?”
Bradley stepped closer, voice dropping. “Don’t question my commitment to a mission or our squadron. Ever.”
The intensity in his eyes made Phoenix instinctively shift back half a step before she caught herself. She’d seen Bradley focused in the cockpit, seen him determined during training — but this was different. This was protective. Fierce. Unyielding.
“You think Maverick wouldn’t tear through every boundary you have if he thought Nick was in danger?” Phoenix pressed. “If he even suspected what was going on, he’d be in your business so fast it’d make your head spin.”
Bradley’s voice dropped to a low, controlled whisper. “This isn’t about Nick’s safety. This is about you not being able to accept that I have a life you didn’t approve or arrange.”
“That’s not fair,” Phoenix said, though something flickered across her face — something she didn’t want him to see. “This isn’t about me setting you up with Claire.”
“Isn’t it?” Bradley challenged. “You’ve been trying to fix me up with someone since my first day back at TOPGUN. Like there’s something broken about me that needs repair.”
Phoenix’s posture shifted, her tactical mind visibly recalculating. “I was trying to help you. You seemed lonely.”
“And you think invading my privacy is helping me?”
Phoenix’s jaw tightened. “I was concerned about you. Something’s been different, and now I know why.” She gestured toward the computer again. “This isn’t just about breaking rules, Bradley. It’s about Nick. Maverick’s daughter. I don’t think you understand what he’d do if he found out.”
Bradley’s pulse hammered in his throat. The fear he’d carried for months — since he found out Nick was Mav’s daughter — surged through him like a shockwave.
“This isn’t your business to manage,” he said, voice low and steady. “And it sure as hell isn’t your secret to tell.”
“So you expect me to lie? To cover for you?” Phoenix demanded. “What happens if we’re deployed together and Jake gets shot down? You think you’ll make rational decisions when your girlfriend’s other boyfriend is in danger?”
Bradley’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “That’s not how it works and you know it. When we’re in the air, we’re pilots first. Always have been, always will be.”
“You can’t just shut off feelings like that,” Phoenix insisted. “Not when they run this deep.”
“I’ve been doing exactly that my entire career,” Bradley countered. “You think I don’t know how to separate personal from professional? It’s all I’ve ever done.”
“Like you did with Maverick during the uranium mission?”
Bradley stared past her, jaw tight, refusing to take the bait.
Phoenix shook her head, frustration and concern warring in her expression. “This is different. This isn’t just about keeping your emotions in check during a mission. This is about loyalty. About trust. About who you’re willing to risk everything for.”
Bradley took a slow, steadying breath. “Why don’t you just say what you really want to say.”
“And what is it I want to say?” she challenged.
“You’re disgusted by our relationship.”
“I’m not disgusted,” Phoenix said — but her voice lacked conviction. “I’m worried. For all three of you. Worried for my friends.”
Bradley studied her face, years of friendship allowing him to read the micro‑expressions she usually kept locked down. “Yeah right,” he said quietly. “I saw your face when you were watching that video. You were repulsed.”
Phoenix broke eye contact — a rare retreat for her. “It’s not what I’m used to seeing, okay?” she said, voice tight. “Three people together like that… it’s not conventional.”
Bradley let out a sharp, humorless breath. “Since when do you care about conventional? You’ve built a career on breaking expectations.”
“That’s different,” she insisted, though her voice wavered.
“How?” Bradley pressed, stepping closer. “Because it doesn’t fit into the neat little categories you think relationships should fall into? Don’t pretend this is about regulations. You’re judging us.”
Phoenix’s eyes flashed — but not just with anger.
For a split second, something else flickered there.
Something sharp.
Something wounded.
Something that didn’t belong to this argument at all.
She shut it down so fast Bradley almost missed it.
“Fine. You want honesty?” she snapped, her voice rising too quickly, too forcefully — like she needed the volume to drown out whatever had surfaced. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand how you — someone I’ve known for years — could suddenly be in this kind of relationship. And with Hangman, of all people. The guy who’s been your rival since day one?”
“People are more complicated than the boxes you put them in,” Bradley said. “Jake and I… it’s not simple. But what we have with Nick works.”
“And what exactly do you have?” Phoenix challenged. “Some arrangement where you both call the shots and she just goes along with it?”
Bradley’s expression hardened instantly. “Don’t you dare reduce what we have to that. Nick is the strongest person I know. She chooses to be with us. Both of us.”
Phoenix’s jaw clenched. “I’m just saying what everyone else would think if they saw that video. And honestly?” She hesitated, then delivered the blow anyway. “I keep thinking about your father. What would Goose say if he knew you were doing this? Sharing someone like—”
Bradley froze.
Then something inside him snapped.
“You don’t get to bring my father into this,” he said, each word sharp enough to cut. “You don’t get to use him as a weapon against me. I won’t let you.”
Phoenix’s tactical mind kicked in, assessing the situation with the precision of a pilot analyzing a failing engine. She’d crossed a line — a line she couldn’t easily retreat from. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice stiff with military precision. “That was out of bounds. I was just—”
“Don’t,” Bradley cut her off, voice like steel. “Don’t try to justify it. You crossed a line you can’t uncross.”
“I didn’t mean to, I’m just—”
“Just what?” Bradley demanded, his voice razor‑sharp. “Just trying to hurt me? Congratulations. Mission accomplished.”
Phoenix’s shoulders straightened, her instinct to defend herself warring with the realization that she’d genuinely wounded him. “I’m concerned about you,” she said, her voice softer but still resolute. “About all three of you. People who do this can get hurt.”
“Your concern has been noted.” Bradley moved toward the door, opening it with deliberate calm despite the storm inside him. “Now please leave.”
Phoenix hesitated, then walked toward the exit with a somberness that hadn’t been there before. At
the threshold, she paused, her hand hovering over the frame. “What are you going to do?”
“That’s not your concern anymore.”
“Bradley, don’t be stupid. I’m still your friend.”
“Friends don’t do what you just did,” he said flatly. “Friends don’t invade privacy, judge without understanding, and then use a man’s dead father against him.”
Phoenix flinched — a small, involuntary movement — before her expression hardened again. “This isn’t over, Rooster. If you think I’m going to stand by while all three of you destroy your lives—”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Bradley cut in, his voice dangerously quiet. “Because if you breathe a word of this to anyone, our friendship is permanently over. And if you hurt Nick in any way, you’ll answer to me.”
The threat hung between them — not shouted, not dramatic, but deadly serious. Bradley Bradshaw didn’t make threats. He made promises.
Phoenix studied him for a long moment, as if seeing him for the first time. Her military composure faltered for just a second, revealing something almost like hurt beneath the surface. “So that’s it?” she asked quietly. “Years of friendship, and you’re choosing them?”
“I’m not choosing anyone,” Bradley said evenly. “I’m asking you to respect my privacy and my relationship. If you can’t do that, then you’ve made the choice for me.”
Phoenix held his gaze, her expression unreadable — but her eyes were moving, flicking over his face like she was searching for something she couldn’t name. A crack in his resolve. A sign he didn’t mean it. A hint that she hadn’t just blown up one of the most important friendships in her life.
But Bradley didn’t waver.
Not this time.
Not after what she’d said.
Not after what she’d done.
Finally, Phoenix stepped across the threshold into the hallway. She opened her mouth — maybe to apologize, maybe to defend herself, maybe to say something she’d regret even more — but Bradley slammed the door shut before she could speak.
The sound echoed through the apartment like a gunshot.
For a moment, Bradley just stood there, his hand still on the doorknob, chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths. His pulse hammered in his ears. His vision felt too sharp, too bright, like the world had tilted off its axis.
He was beyond livid.
He walked into the kitchen with stiff, mechanical movements, grabbed a whiskey glass, and reached for Jake’s bottle — the good stuff Jake always pretended he didn’t care about but secretly saved for nights when the world felt too heavy.
Bradley poured the amber liquid with military precision, watching it catch the light as it filled the glass. The burn of whiskey might dull the edge of his rage, though nothing could erase the violation he felt — or the words Phoenix had hurled at him.
I just keep thinking what would Goose say…
His hand tightened around the glass until his knuckles whitened.
Of all the lines Phoenix could have crossed, dragging his father into this cut deepest. Goose was the one thing Bradley never weaponized. Never used. Never exploited. His father was sacred — a memory preserved in stories, in faded photographs, in Maverick’s quiet grief, in the ache that lived in Bradley’s chest every time he looked in the mirror.
Phoenix had taken that and twisted it deep.
He brought the glass with him to the couch and sat down with a heavy exhale, the cushions dipping beneath his weight.
The apartment felt too quiet now. Too still. The kind of silence that didn’t soothe — it suffocated. It pressed against him from all sides, amplifying every thought he didn’t want to have.
He took a long sip of whiskey, letting the burn spread through him. It didn’t calm him. It didn’t numb him. But it gave him something else to focus on besides the storm inside his chest.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
Nick’s name flashed across the screen, accompanied by a photo of her laughing — head thrown back, eyes crinkled, pure joy. He’d taken it one lazy Sunday morning when she’d been teasing Jake about something ridiculous. The memory loosened something in his chest, just a little.
He answered on the third ring. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Nick replied, her voice warm and bright. “We just finished up. Jake was showing off again, scaling the hardest wall like gravity is optional.”
Despite everything, Bradley felt his lips twitch into a small smile. “Of course he was.”
There was a pause — a soft one, the kind that meant she was listening to the spaces between his words. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, beautiful. When will you two be back?”
“Soon. There’s this new food truck outside that has churros. We were thinking of getting some before heading home. Did you want us to grab you one?”
“No, but thank you for the offer.”
Nick didn’t push, but he could hear the shift in her breathing — the subtle way she filed away the tension in his voice for later. “Alright. We’ll be home in about an hour then.”
Home.
The way she said it — casual, matter‑of‑fact, like it was the most natural thing in the world — hit Bradley square in the chest. This was what Phoenix couldn’t understand. The easy domesticity they’d built. The safety. The warmth. The way the three of them fit together like pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t known he was missing.
“Drive safe,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll be here.”
“Always do,” Nick replied, and he could hear her smile. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” he said, ending the call.
Bradley set the phone down and took another sip of whiskey, letting his head fall back against the couch. Phoenix’s words echoed in his mind:
This isn’t over.
She was right about that much.
This was just the beginning —
the beginning of the fallout,
the beginning of the consequences,
the beginning of the potential destruction of everything he’d worked so hard to protect.
And for the first time since the trio began, Bradley felt a flicker of fear.
Not for himself.
For Nick.
For Jake.
For the fragile, beautiful thing they’d built together.
Summary: As the weekend comes to a close the trio drive back home.
Word Count: 3,333
Warnings: Fluff
Tags: Fluff
Author Notes: Hey y'all! This is the final chapter before they have to go back to work and possibly face Phoenix and whatever she might have done or possibly will do. If You have any guesses as to what happens feel free to comment it or reblog it. As always enjoy!
Dinner was phenomenal, and dessert had somehow been even better. The restaurant Jake had chosen served the best tiramisu Nick had ever tasted—rich and decadent, with the perfect balance of coffee, cream, and cocoa.
“I’m never eating again,” Nick declared as they walked back to her car, her hand comfortably entwined with Bradley’s while Jake stayed close on her other side. “That was worth every penny you spent, babe.”
Jake laughed, sliding an arm around her waist. “Glad you enjoyed it. Though watching you eat that tiramisu was almost better than the actual dessert.”
“The noises you were making,” Bradley added, his voice dropping lower as he squeezed her hand. “I think the couple at the next table thought you were having a very different kind of experience.”
Nick felt her cheeks warm, but she couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed. “It was a religious experience,” she insisted, leaning into Jake’s side as they walked. “I have no regrets.”
The night air was warm against her skin, carrying the salty scent of the ocean they’d explored earlier. Stars dotted the clear sky overhead, brighter here than they ever were near the base. Nick tipped her head back to admire them, wishing for the hundredth time that the night didn’t have to end.
“I don’t want to go back tonight,” she admitted quietly, voicing the thought that had hovered over their perfect day. “You sure we can’t just stay one more night?”
Bradley’s hand tightened around hers, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. “I know,” he said softly. “But we can’t. We all have responsibilities waiting for us.”
Jake pulled her a little closer. “We’ll make it work,” he promised, his voice lacking its usual cocky edge. “This weekend isn’t the end of anything.”
Nick sighed. “I know. I just wish we could stay in this little bubble a bit longer. Where it’s just us. No Phoenix drama. No hiding. No sneaking around.”
Bradley’s fingers laced more firmly with hers. “We’ll find ways to be together,” he assured her. “It won’t always be as easy as this weekend, but we’ll make it work. We always do.”
They reached Nick’s car, parked beneath a towering palm tree. Moonlight filtered through the fronds overhead, painting soft shadows across the sleek black paint. None of them made a move to get in right away. No one seemed ready for the three-hour drive home.
After a long moment, Nick stepped into Jake’s arms and wrapped herself around him.
“Thank you for this weekend, Honey Bear,” she murmured. “For planning all of it. And for paying for just about everything.”
Jake held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “You’re welcome, Darlin’,” he said quietly. “Seeing you happy was worth every penny.”
Nick pulled back just enough to look into his green eyes. “I am happy,” she assured him. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
She turned and immediately moved into Bradley’s waiting embrace. His arms closed around her, steady and strong, his heartbeat a comforting rhythm beneath her cheek.
“And thank you for being here,” she whispered. “For making this weekend perfect.”
Bradley’s hand cradled the back of her head, his touch as gentle as ever. “Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
Jake cleared his throat, keys twirling around one finger. “We should get on the road if we want to make it home by midnight.”
Nick reluctantly stepped back from Bradley, already missing the warmth of his arms. “I call shotgun,” she announced, forcing some brightness back into her voice.
“You always get shotgun,” Bradley said with a small smile as he opened the back door.
“That’s because I’m the favorite,” Nick teased as she slid into the passenger seat.
Jake laughed as he settled behind the wheel, adjusting the seat for his long legs. “Don’t let Rooster fool you. He likes the back seat. Gives him room to brood dramatically.”
Bradley snorted as he climbed in behind them. “Someone has to keep the two of you grounded.”
As they pulled away from the resort, Nick gazed out the window, watching the palm trees and ocean slowly disappear in the distance. The car settled into a comfortable silence, each of them quietly processing the end of the weekend and the reality waiting for them at home.
“You boys up for some music?” Nick asked, reaching for her phone.
“As long as it’s not country,” Bradley replied.
Jake shot him a mock-offended look in the rearview mirror. “What’s wrong with country? Some of us have taste, Rooster.”
“Some of us weren’t raised in Texas,” Bradley countered dryly.
Nick laughed as she scrolled through her playlist. “For the record, I like country music.”
Jake grinned immediately. “That’s my girl.”
“And Thomas Rhett is still my favorite,” she added, just to prove her point.
Bradley groaned dramatically from the backseat. “I’m outnumbered.”
Nick finally selected a compromise, and soon the opening chords of Hotel California filled the car.
Jake rested one hand on the wheel while his other came to rest on Nick’s thigh, his thumb tracing absent patterns against her skin. The gesture was casual and intimate, and it made warmth spread through her chest.
“How are we handling tomorrow?” Bradley asked after several minutes, his voice quiet but clear over the music.
The question they’d all been avoiding settled heavily in the car.
Jake’s hand tightened slightly on Nick’s leg. “We do nothing,” he said after a moment. “Act like nothing happened and wait to see what Phoenix does.”
Nick turned in her seat to look at Bradley, reaching back to touch his knee. “No matter what happens, we face it together.” Her eyes flashed protectively. “But if she says one nasty word or brings up your dad again, I’ll knock her lights out.”
Bradley covered her hand with his, his thumb stroking over her palm. “Let’s try to avoid physically assaulting my squadron mates.”
“She’d deserve it,” Jake muttered.
Bradley gave him a pointed look in the mirror, though there was affection beneath it. “Phoenix may surprise us.”
“That would be nice,” Nick said, turning forward again. “I just don’t want her hurting either of you.”
“She won’t,” Jake said firmly. “What we have is stronger than that.”
The car fell quiet once more, the music filling the spaces between them.
After several miles, Bradley spoke again. “I know what Phoenix is capable of,” he admitted. “I just thought that as my friend she’d be more supportive. Honestly, who would’ve guessed Coyote would be the understanding one?”
Nick smiled faintly. “Coyote surprised me too.”
Jake chuckled. “Coyote doesn’t care what other people think. As long as everyone’s happy and no one’s getting hurt, he’s good.”
Bradley nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. “Phoenix has always been more… traditional.”
Nick reached back to squeeze his knee again. “Maybe she just needs time.”
“I hope so.”
“Me too,” Nick said. “Because I meant what I said. Nobody gets to throw Goose in your face like that.”
Jake’s jaw tightened at the mention of Goose. “That was a low blow.”
Bradley sighed. “She was upset.”
“You’re always defending her,” Jake observed, not accusing—just stating a fact.
Bradley looked out the window for a moment before answering. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
Nick studied his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Has she always been like this?”
Bradley shook his head. “Not always. In flight school, she was different. More open. Something changed after graduation.”
Jake’s eyes met Bradley’s briefly in the mirror. “She’s always had strong opinions, but this feels personal.”
Nick rested her head against the seat. “Maybe because it is personal.”
A thoughtful silence settled over the car.
“She’ll come around,” Bradley said eventually, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“And if she doesn’t?” Nick asked softly.
Jake laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. “Then that’s her loss.”
The steady hum of the tires, the music, and the emotional exhaustion of the weekend gradually pulled Nick toward sleep. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she let herself relax into the seat.
Within minutes, her breathing deepened, her head tipping slightly toward the window.
“Is she asleep?” Bradley asked quietly.
Jake glanced over and smiled. “Out like a light.”
Bradley’s expression softened as he watched her. “She’s exhausted.”
Jake smirked faintly. “No regrets.”
Bradley shook his head, though a small smile touched his lips. “No, none.”
The smile faded as reality crept back in.
“What do you think Phoenix will do?” Jake asked, his voice low.
Bradley leaned back, considering the question. “I honestly don’t know. Phoenix can be unpredictable, especially when she feels betrayed.”
Jake frowned. “We didn’t betray her.”
“In her mind, maybe we did,” Bradley said quietly. “Not romantically. But she and I have been through a lot. I think she expected to be the first to know.”
Jake was silent for a moment, his thumb still tracing absent circles over Nick’s sleeping leg.
“Or maybe she really is disgusted by what we’re doing,” he said finally. “Especially because I’m involved.”
Bradley shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it.”
Jake snorted softly. “She’s never exactly been my biggest fan.”
Bradley’s reflection in the mirror softened. “I made it clear that this wasn’t about you and me being together. That we’re both with Nick because we love her.”
Jake’s eyes drifted to Nick’s sleeping face, his expression immediately gentling. “She looks peaceful.”
“She does,” Bradley agreed. “And after everything she’s dealt with, she deserves this.”
The highway stretched before them, dark and endless, punctuated by passing headlights and the occasional roadside sign.
Jake tightened his hold on Nick’s hand.
“We’ll protect her,” he said quietly, his voice full of conviction. “Whatever Phoenix does, whatever anyone says—we’ll make sure Nick doesn’t get hurt.”
Bradley held his gaze in the rearview mirror for a long moment before nodding once.
“Together,” he said.
Jake’s expression softened. “Together.”
They settled into the comfortable silence, both men instinctively protective as they surrounded Nick with their warmth. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the three of them as they lay together, a perfect unity in the quiet darkness.
“You know,” Bradley said after several minutes, his voice low so he wouldn’t wake Nick, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you’re in this with me, Hangman.”
Jake glanced at him in the rearview mirror and smiled, the expression softer than his usual cocky grin. “Same.” His eyes flicked to Nick, sleeping soundly against his shoulder. “And if all else fails, we can let Nick take a swing at Phoenix. Women won’t know what hit her.”
Bradley laughed quietly, the sound warm and genuine. “Nick would absolutely make it count. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Yeah,” Jake agreed, his voice softening as he looked down at Nick. “She gets scary when it comes to protecting what’s hers.”
“That she does,” Bradley murmured, his eyes lingering on Nick’s peaceful face. “Remember that guy at The Hard Deck a few months ago?”
Jake let out a short laugh. “The one who thought you were gay and wouldn’t take the hint?”
Bradley nodded, smiling at the memory. “He kept hitting on me even after I told him I wasn’t interested.”
Jake shook his head. “And before I could say anything, Nick stepped between you two and told him that if he touched you again, she’d personally escort him out by his ears.”
Bradley’s smile widened. “I’ve never seen a grown man back down so fast.”
Jake chuckled. “She was tiny and furious. It was honestly one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.”
Bradley looked at Nick with open affection. “She loves fiercely.”
“Yeah,” Jake said quietly. “She really does.”
They drove in companionable silence for a while, the highway stretching dark and empty ahead of them. Nick shifted slightly in her sleep, her head sliding farther onto Jake’s shoulder. Without taking his eyes off the road, he adjusted his arm around her and tucked her more securely against his side.
“Still out cold,” Bradley observed.
Jake smiled. “She’s done for.”
Bradley’s lips curved. “Three rounds last night, hours in the water, and enough emotional stress to exhaust anyone.”
Jake’s grin returned briefly. “No complaints from her.”
“No,” Bradley agreed, his expression turning tender. She rarely ever complains. About anything.”
The amusement faded as tomorrow crept back into their thoughts.
Bradley leaned his head against the seat. “I keep rehearsing what I’m going to say to Phoenix.
Jake considered that for a moment. “Maybe don’t say anything unless she does first.”
Bradley looked at him in the mirror.
Jake shrugged one shoulder. “Seriously. Let her decide what she wants to do. If she wants to talk, we talk. If she wants to pretend none of it happened, we let her.”
Bradley nodded slowly. “That might be the best approach.”
Jake’s expression remained thoughtful. “No sense turning it into a bigger deal than it already is.”
Nick stirred and mumbled something unintelligible before settling back against Jake. Both men instinctively fell silent, their attention immediately shifting to her.
Bradley’s eyes softened. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”
Jake tightened his arm around her slightly. “Me too.”
No jokes. No bravado. Just the truth.
The next hour passed quietly. The music played softly, and the miles slipped by beneath them. Nick slept the entire way, cocooned between Jake’s steady presence and Bradley’s watchful gaze from the backseat.
When they reached the outskirts of town, Bradley leaned forward.
“My place or hers?”
Jake didn’t hesitate. “Hers.”
Bradley nodded. “Figured.”
“She’ll sleep better in her own bed. We all will sleep better in her vec,” Jake said, glancing at Nick’s relaxed face. “And after the weekend we just gave her, she deserves it.”
Bradley smirked. “We gave her?”
Jake shot him a grin. “Team effort.”
Bradley laughed softly and settled back again.
A few minutes later, Jake turned onto Nick’s street and pulled up in front of her apartment building. The neighborhood was quiet, most of the windows dark at this late hour.
He shut off the engine and looked over at Nick, who hadn’t stirred.
“If you grab the bags,” Jake said as he opened his door, “I’ll carry Sleeping Beauty upstairs.”
Bradley nodded and climbed out, moving to the trunk while Jake walked around to the passenger side.
He opened the door carefully and crouched beside her.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’re home.”
Nick’s eyes fluttered open for half a second before drifting shut again. “Don’t wanna move,” she mumbled.
Jake’s expression melted. “Good thing you don’t have to.”
He slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. Nick curled instinctively against his chest with a sleepy sigh.
Bradley came around the car carrying their bags and Nick’s purse.
“Still asleep?”
Jake adjusted his hold. “Barely conscious.”
Bradley smiled as they headed toward the building. “That’s because she trusts us.”
Jake looked down at her and felt his chest tighten. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “She definitely does.”
They stepped into the lobby, their footsteps muted in the late-night quiet. As they crossed to the elevator, Bradley reached into his pocket and pulled out Nick’s keys—the same set Jake had handed him after parking the car.
Inside the elevator, Nick nuzzled closer to Jake, one hand fisting in the front of his shirt.
Jake smiled down at her. “Comfortable?”
She made a sleepy noise that sounded suspiciously like a yes.
Bradley watched them with a fond smile. “She’s not going to remember any of this.”
Jake glanced up. “Doesn’t matter.”
Bradley’s expression softened. “No. It doesn’t.”
The elevator opened, and they made their way to Nick’s apartment. Bradley unlocked the door and stepped inside first. He made his way to her bedroom, switching on the lamp on her nightstand while Jake carried Nick through the apartment and to the bed.
He laid her down carefully, supporting her head until it rested gently against the pillow.
Nick sighed and rolled onto her side, still fast asleep.
Bradley set down the bags and began removing her sandals.
“Should we wake her?”
Jake looked at Nick’s exhausted face and shook his head. “Not unless we have to. I think we can undress her ourselves.”
Bradley nodded. “Let’s get her changed.”
Working together with quiet familiarity, they gently helped Nick out of her dress. She stirred only once, mumbling something neither of them could understand before sinking right back into sleep.
“Do you remember where she keeps her sleep shirts?” He quietly asked.
Bradley smiled. “Second drawer. Left side.”
Jake went to her dresser and opened the second drawer. He pulled out an oversized T-shirt and held it up.
Bradley chuckled softly. “Your shirt. I'm not even surprised at this point”
Jake grinned. “Looks better on her.”
“Everything looks better on her.”
With careful coordination, they slipped the shirt over Nick’s head and guided her arms through the sleeves.
When they were done, Jake pulled the covers up to her shoulders.
Nick immediately snuggled deeper into the blankets.
“There,” Jake whispered.
For a moment, both men simply stood there watching her.
She looked peaceful, her dark hair spread across the pillow, Jake’s T-shirt swallowing her small frame.
“She’s beautiful,” Bradley said quietly.
Jake brushed his knuckles over Nick’s cheek. “And she's all ours.”
There was so much tenderness in that one word that Bradley felt his throat tighten.
Eventually, they moved quietly around the room, unpacking only the essentials. Jake went into the bathroom first and returned a few minutes later in boxers, his face freshly washed.
“All yours,” he whispered.
Bradley took a clean pair of pajama bottoms and disappeared into the bathroom.
Jake checked his phone, set it on the charger, and slipped carefully into bed beside Nick.
The mattress dipped, and without waking, Nick instinctively curled toward him. Jake wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Bradley returned a few minutes later, changed and ready for bed. He slid in behind Nick, and she shifted again, reaching back until she found his arm and tugged it around her middle.
Jake chuckled under his breath. “Even asleep, she knows exactly what she wants.”
Bradley smiled and settled closer, his hand resting over Nick’s. “That she does.”
The room fell quiet.
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silver glow over the three of them. Nick lay nestled securely between them, breathing evenly, her body relaxed in sleep.
Jake stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking.
“You know,” he murmured, “whatever happens tomorrow, this was worth it.”
Bradley looked over Nick’s sleeping form and met his eyes.
“She’s worth it.”
Jake exhaled slowly, his fingers absently stroking Nick’s side beneath the covers.
“I’d do it all over again.”
Bradley’s expression softened. “So would I.”
Neither of them spoke for a while after that.
They didn’t need to.
Everything that mattered was right there between them.
Their Nick.
She made a soft sleepy sound and burrowed deeper into Jake’s chest while pressing closer to Bradley’s warmth. The movement drew a quiet smile from both men.
Jake kissed her hair again. “Get some sleep, Rooster.”
Bradley adjusted the blanket over Nick’s shoulder. “You too, Hangman.”
The steady rhythm of Nick’s breathing filled the room.
Jake’s last conscious thought was that no matter what happened tomorrow—whether Phoenix accepted them or not, whether the rest of the world understood or didn’t—he wasn’t walking away from this.
From her.
From either of them.
Bradley’s final thought was much the same.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he belonged.
And as sleep finally claimed them, the three of them remained tangled together in Nick’s bed, wrapped in warmth, trust, and the quiet certainty that whatever waited for them in the morning, they would face it together.
