Loving Halston: Season One, Pilot Episode Read online

  Copyright © 2017 by Amaya Nichole

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a media retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this book, excepting of brief quotations for use in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Formatting: oh so novel

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  Nick

  Halston

  Nash

  Halston

  Nick

  About Amaya Nichole

  Nick

  “You talk to Hal yet?” my buddy Ethan asks as he and our two other roommates of us leave the rink.

  I’ve been dating this girl, Halston, for a few months, and my roommates all want in on it. Not in a sick gangbang kind of way; more of a…

  Sister wives, meets hockey guys, kind of way.

  The problem with this, though, is girls are all taught that one girl to multiple guys is less than desirable, unless you’re into some kinky shit.

  And as much as I like fucking Hal, I’m not entirely sure ‘kinky’ is in her vocabulary.

  Car sex? Sure.

  Public sex? Done it.

  More than just me and her? Yeah. Not so sure.

  But God, I want it to be true…

  My boys and me first met freshman year, playing collegiate hockey. Nash, Ethan, and me have been thick since day one, and then our sophomore year, when Liam joined the team, we became the four musketeers. Roommates off the ice, and the first line on the ice.

  I’m Nick Priest, first line forward, drafted to play for San Jose next season. Nash, Ethan, and I are graduating college in a few short weeks and then we’re heading to sunny California.

  Liam still has a year to go, but fuck if Nash, Ethan, and me aren’t trying to get him in the San Jose scout’s view. Liam’s draft is coming up and it would be really shitty if he ended up playing for another team.

  I hit the fob for my car, the lights illuminating the darkened parking lot as we near our vehicles. “No. I haven’t. Tonight.”

  “God, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten laid,” Ethan answers on a groan.

  Nash laughs. “Yeah. Tina.” Tina had been Nash’s contribution to our little arrangement. Tina started hanging out with Nash because of our reputations; now she is into some kinky shit.

  While we definitely like the group thing now and then, it’s still important to have one-on-one time, too, and Tina wasn’t really having it. She wanted cocks all around her, all the time. Exciting, sure, for a while, but eventually it got old.

  I mean, I like looking at cocks as much as the next guy…

  AKA, not all that often.

  “I don’t think Halston’s gonna go for it,” Liam states.

  Of the four of us, Liam is the most…indifferent…to this arrangement, but fuck if I don’t agree with him.

  On paper, Liam fits with us to a T—other than the fact he plays defense to our offense. The four of us together are the school’s best-looking athletes. The guys all the girls want to be with. We’re popular on the ice, off the ice, and everywhere in between.

  But Liam tends to be the voice of reason.

  He’s also the reason Tina ended up walking.

  She didn’t want sweet.

  She wanted hard and rough and every hole filled.

  She hadn’t made it a secret she didn’t care for Liam’s “soft gazes.”

  Ethan wanted to vote him off the island, but Nash made a good point—we’re bound to meet a woman who craves what Liam has to offer.

  …And I really think Hal’s that girl.

  She’s fucking gorgeous, with long blonde hair and blue eyes—so commonly beautiful, but it’s her fast smiles, her willingness to play and learn, that sets her apart from others.

  I met her at the bar she works at. The boys and I went in after a game and there she was, working her ass off, hair in an over-shoulder braid, skin-tight black tank top cupping high, firm peaches, short-assed booty shorts…

  Sexy clothes for the girl with girl-next-door features.

  Fucking hot.

  The boys and I decided that I would be the one to talk to her.

  At first, she was leery. She’d even mentioned a time or two over the past few months that she didn’t get what I saw in her but fuck if I didn’t see damn near everything in her. Even if she doesn’t agree with what the boys and I have to offer…

  I would be thankful for the time I had with her.

  Past tense, because I’d have to let her go.

  “Look,” Nash says, cutting through my thoughts, “we’re all antsy as fuck. If he can’t get Hal to agree, maybe we need to re-evaluate.”

  “Monogamy?” Ethan’s voice was incredulous.

  “No,” Nash answered, drawing out the word. “I didn’t say that. But maybe Hal’s not the answer.”

  “Oh, she’s the answer.” I’m a betting man, and I can feel it in the blood that runs through my veins—Hal is it. She’s the answer.

  She’s the one that will keep all of us happy.

  “Give me a week.” I hold up a finger. “One week, and if she doesn’t agree, we’ll figure something else out.”

  Because fuck, I don’t want to let her go.

  I’ll talk her into it.

  I will…

  Halston

  “Hey, sexy.”

  I grin at the voice behind me, knowing exactly who I’ll find when I turn.

  Nick Priest, hockey forward for ASU, six-foot-two inches of hard muscle, dark hair and darker eyes…

  And he’s all mine.

  A fact I still don’t understand, but I’m through questioning.

  Still grinning, I reach to the lower fridge, pulling out a bottle of the beer I know he’s going to ask for. “Nick.” I pop off the lid before setting it down in front of him, leaning over the rich wenge-grain bar top to accept his kiss.

  Blue Line is a sport bar near campus that I’ve been working at for the last four months, and while it’s my first gig, this bartending thing, I’ve found I really enjoy it. I enjoy the sounds and the people. Most of the patrons are either juniors and seniors at the college, and those who aren’t, are nearby residents of Tempe, but everyone who comes through the doors is a huge fan of sports.

  Nick’s lips move against mine as he murmurs, “Halston.” My name on his lips quickly turns to another kiss. A kiss where he licks my lower lip but refuses to take it any further.

  I’m at work though, so it should be me who is refusing to take it further…but Nick has a way of making me lose my mind.

  I fall back down to the heels of my canvas sneakers, grinning at my boyfriend. His hair is getting too long and is wet, likely post-shower, but I’m still itching to run my hands through it.

  To hold on to him while he devours me.

  I bite on my lower lip and try to redirect my thoughts, but it’s no use. I know what’s going to happen tonight when my shift ends.

  He and his roommates play club hockey in the off-season and tonight they had a pick-up game. Nick, like many of his teammates, is superstitious when it comes to the game he loves. His biggest superstition is no sex before a game—pick-up or otherwise.

  But oh me, oh my, does he believe in it afterward.

  …Which means tonight’s going to be fun.

  Before Nick, my lovers had only been med
iocre. I simply figured that there was either something wrong with me—as in, I must not know what I’m doing in bed—or I just had poor taste in men.

  Nick changed all that.

  I met him here, at this bar. I don’t attend the college, but I know many of the athletes. It was one of my first shifts here when Nick and his roommates came walking up to the bar. I was quickly smitten.

  The four of them together…

  Good God, they put Adonis to shame.

  All four are hockey legends at the college. Three seniors and a junior. The three seniors—Nick, Nash, and Ethan—were drafted last year, but Liam, the junior in the group, is getting ready for the draft at the end of the month. The older three tease him mercilessly and it wouldn’t surprise me if they took time during the pick-up game tonight to be hard on him, getting him shaped up for a potential prospect camp.

  The four of them have been playing together for years. Nick, Nash, and Ethan all managed to be drafted to the same team, something I don’t think has happened before, and if it has…it’s been a long time, I wouldn’t put it past those boys to try and get Liam to be drafted to their team as well.

  “Good time with the guys?” I ask, smiling down the bar at one of my customers, who is asking for another drink with a single finger. I reach for a glass to fill as I turn my attention back to Nick.

  “Always.” Nick’s voice easily turns me to jelly, even when there’s a slight edge to it, as there is right now.

  I smile wide over at him. “Relax, Nick.”

  “I don’t like him flirting with you.”

  “You don’t like anyone flirting with me.” And because he caught it, there’s not a doubt in my mind that tonight, he’s going to go all alpha on me. He already is dominating in the bed but tonight…

  If I were sitting, I’d squeeze my knees together right now, but as it is, I have work to do. “I get off in an hour.”

  “And then I’ll get you off for hours after,” Nick says, his voice low and sexy, following the words with a wink.

  I can’t stop my smile. “I’m sure you will.” I’m such a giddy schoolgirl around him. “Are you sticking around?” I ask, even though I know damn well he will be.

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  “Just behave,” I warn, with a sexy wink of my own.

  Throughout the last hour of my shift, I can feel Nick’s eyes on me and while I know the other guys in the bar will take it as a look of possession, some thinking I’m in way over my head, I love it.

  Nick’s attention is never stifling. It’s not the type that makes a girl feel like she couldn’t leave if she absolutely needed to.

  But I don’t want to.

  I love his looks. His words. The way he wraps his arms around me at night, his chin resting on the crown of my head.

  So, when my shift ends I punch out quickly and take care of my till. After saying good night to the closers, I walk back into the bar and slide up behind my man.

  Running my hand up his spine over the soft fabric of his shirt, I lean into his ear and whisper, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

  I shoot a text off to Nicola, my roommate, telling her what she already knows—I’m not coming to the apartment tonight.

  The first month that Nick and I got together, I was home most nights.

  By month two, it was an “every other night” kind of thing.

  Now? Now I’m paying rent for my bed. A bed that is a piece of furniture collecting dust.

  I push the button on the side of my phone, making the screen go dark, and look to my left where Nick is seated in the driver’s seat. He’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, as he drives with his wrist propped on the wheel and his right hand hooked on my headrest.

  “It’s late,” I say. “Maybe we should just go to bed.”

  “Oh, we’re going to bed alright,” he replies. He knows as well as I do that I was joking. His fingers slip through the bars of my raised headrest so he can tug at my hair.

  I smile even though it’s dark and know he can’t see it. Relaxing into the passenger seat, I sigh happily. Soon though, Nick’s hand drops and is a bit too high on my thigh…

  If there were such a thing.

  “Nick,” I warn.

  “I can get you off before we get to my place.” I can hear the smirk in his voice.

  “I’m sure you can.” We were maybe ten minutes out but the man is magic with his fingers.

  “And then you’ve got on these itty bitty shorts…” His voice trails off as his pinky brushes along the hem of those itty bitty shorts. I shift in my seat, not at all ashamed to admit that I spread my legs along the leather.

  “Mmm. You like those, yeah?”

  “You know it.”

  I roll my head against the seat rest, smiling into the dark. He’s not doing anything quite yet, but I know his game.

  With his pinky finger precariously close to the promised land, he knows damn well my body is starting to buzz. The anticipation is wracking through me.

  But again.

  I know his game.

  He won’t move until I move, and as badly as I’d love to build the anticipation even more…

  My hips move on their own accord, pushing forward as I try to find relief.

  “Sassy.” Nick’s chuckle is sexy and fills the car.

  “Nick,” I whine. Yep. Whine. Twenty-four hours is too long to go without his body against mine, skin to skin.

  His fingers dig into the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Pop that button, Hal.”

  If I wasn’t feeling so needy, I would make him wait—he loves getting me off as much as I love him getting me off—but I’m not up to waiting right now. I unbuckle myself and bring my fingers to the top of my shorts, sliding the hook-and-slide closure over and unbuttoning the second one.

  “Unzip them.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip and do as he asks…but slowly.

  “Halston.” He draws my voice out in two very long syllables and I can hear that he’s growing impatient.

  “I’m wet,” I whisper into the dark car, not needing to put my hand against my lacey thong to know. From the very moment he kissed me an hour ago, I’d been anticipating this moment. The tingling awareness started when he walked me out of the bar, his hand on my back. I was wet before I even sat in this car.

  But now I know without a doubt, I’m soaked. I can feel the sticky fullness and can fully imagine the feel of his thick fingers slipping over the smooth skin there.

  “Are you touching yourself?”

  “No.” I lift my hips and shimmy the top of my shorts down just past my butt.

  “Not all the way off, Hal.” His voice is growing thicker, the need in his voice making mine that much greater.

  If my shorts stay at the top of my legs, I won’t be able to spread my legs.

  If I can’t spread my legs…

  I moan as I imagine his hand between my legs.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  Nick slowly drops his hand down into my inner thigh, his pinky rubbing softly over the seam of my panties. I let out a breathy moan and shift again.

  “Buckle back up, baby.” He slowly rubs his pinky against me. Up and down. Slowly. “Buckle up, and I’ll take you for a ride.”

  I do as I’m told, buckling myself back into the seat. Between my shorts keeping my legs hostage and the seatbelt keeping me to the bucket seat of Nick’s fancy car…

  My thoughts screech to a halt when his pinky hooks onto my thong. “You want this, baby?”

  “Yeah.” The word is breathy and I point my toes against the floor of the car. If I can’t spread my legs, I need to release the tension someway, so I stretch long, my hips lifting just enough for me to find a little more pressure.

  Nick turns his hand so his palm is cupping my mound, his fingers pressing over me.

  “Nick, please,” I beg. I need his fingers under the lace. I need his skin against mine. I need his fingers rolling over my clit, in that slow, sure wa
y that he does.

  “You know I love it when you beg.” He removes his hand though and I look over at him, trying to figure out what he’s going to do.

  He’s no longer driving with his wrist, but with a tight grab on the wheel. The hand that he was using to tease me is reaching for my hand.

  “What…?” I lift my hand to take his but rather than fold his fingers against mine, he pulls my hand over and puts it on his lap. His cock is hard and long, and I can feel the heat of him through the denim of his jeans.

  “Squeeze, Hal, baby.”

  I do, and the hard thickness of him shifts against my hand in response. He wants to play. I contemplate moving my hand over his length but Nick calls me on it. “Just squeeze. Don’t move you hand.”

  Swallowing, I grip him. It takes everything in me to not rub my thumb over him but I do as I’m told.

  Soon, I’m rewarded when he slips his hands down the front of my panties. There’s no slowness to his movements now, though. His hand dives right down the front, over the small strip of hair, and soon I feel the pressure of his finger sliding down and over my clit.

  “Nick.” My breathing starts to grow heavy. I can hear each of my breaths in my ears as they fight over the pounding of my heart.

  “You like that, baby?” He drags the tip of his finger over the tight bud—slowly, again.

  He’s such a fucking tease.

  “More,” I moan, squeezing his cock a little harder. His groan echoes mine but he doesn’t go any faster. He rubs his finger over my clit between my tight thighs again, twice more, before he starts to roll it slowly.

  “Nicholas.” I push my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes. I can picture his hand over me, running over the pink, glistening skin. The visual gets me that much closer.

  He starts to move his finger in erratic patterns—up and down, around and around, left to right. It’s when he starts moving left to right that he adds more pressure, moving his finger quicker as he presses his palm harder into me.

  My hand grows lax over him and his response is to stop.

  He stops.

  “Nick.” My groan is long and low, my hips pressing up but being stopped by the confines of my seatbelt.