Naughty & Nice: A MFM Snowed-in Christmas Romance

Hendrix is silent as he leads me toward the bathroom. My anxiety spikes with every step we take.

After closing the door, cutting us off from Wilder, he releases my hand and leans into the shower, turning the water on.

I’m so lost in my own head that I don’t think about our current situation or that the room is only illuminated with candles like the rest of the cabin, but the second he pushes me under the powerful stream of water, it all comes crashing down quickly.

“It’s freezing,” I shriek, attempting to jump straight back out of it. But Hendrix doesn’t allow it. Instead, he reaches for the shower gel and squirts a generous amount into his palm.

He starts with my breasts, and I try not to think about why.

His touch feels so good, but the heat of his palms is nowhere near enough to make me forget about the ice water that’s sluicing over both of us.

He washes himself down just as quickly, and only a minute or so later, he’s killed the water and is wrapping me in a huge fluffy towel.

“Hendrix?” I whisper, achingly aware that he hasn’t said a word since we walked away from Wilder.

His eyes bounce between mine, and no sooner has he wrapped a towel around his waist than he reaches up and cups my face in his large hands.

My breath catches. There’s so much emotion in his eyes it’s impossible to decipher everything he’s feeling right now.

Closing the space between us, he rests his forehead against mine as he releases my face and wraps his arms around my body, tugging me against him.

My heart thunders and my head spins with a mixture of alcohol and anxiety.

Did we just fuck everything up by doing that?

Does he think I’m a whore?

Does he think I want Wilder more than him?

“Stop,” he whispers. “Everything you’re thinking, stop it right now.”

My brows pinch in confusion and my lips part to respond, but he doesn’t give me a chance.

“Come on,” he says, suddenly releasing me. He takes my hand again and tugs me into the bedroom.

The living room is in silence, and concern for Wilder floods through me.

Is he regretting what just happened? Is he worried about the fallout?

I almost laugh at myself when I realize what I’m doing. Wilder doesn’t worry about things that have happened. Hell, he barely spares a thought for things that are yet to happen.

The bedroom is in darkness, and Hendrix leaves me at the end of the bed while he lights some candles.

It’s romantic, or at least it should be.

When he turns back around after lighting the final candle, his brows furrow when he finds me chewing on my nail.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to pull my hand free. “Are you okay?”

“Rix,” I breathe.

“Shit,” he curses, ripping his eyes from mine in favor of staring down at his feet. “You’re regretting it, aren’t you?”

“What?” I gasp, shocked by his words. “N-No, I’m not regretting anything. I’m… I’m worrying about you and what happened and⁠—”

He cuts me off with his lips.

“Stop,” he murmurs into our kiss.

Unhooking the towel from under my arms, he lets it drop to the floor before leading me to the bed.

We’re still wet, but I’m also cold, so I don’t argue when he holds the sheets back and encourages me to slip in.

He follows me not a second later after losing his own towel.

Sliding his body right against mine, he wraps his arm around my back and holds me as close as possible.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, kissing the tip of my nose.

I shake my head. “I haven’t done anything.”

He laughs. “Oh, you’ve done plenty, Miss Bell.”

My cheeks blaze red hot.

“Oh my god,” I breathe before tucking my face into Hendrix’s chest. “I can’t believe we did that. I blame the vodka.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand up and down my back supportively.

“There doesn’t need to be any blame, Elle. We did it because we wanted to. Because it was hot.”

“It was really hot,” I confess against his chest.

“Exactly. We’re all consenting adults. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know. I do know that. It’s just…” I let out a sigh and pull my head out of its hiding place.

“It’s just what, baby?” Rix asks softly.

“We’ve only just started. Don’t you think that going from nothing to threeways with your brother in the blink of an eye is a bit much?”

He smirks.

“Maybe. But did it feel right?”

I think for a moment. “I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t. You wouldn’t have either.”

“No,” he muses.

“Were you really okay with it? Watching him… touching me?”

He bites down on his lip. For a moment I almost believe he’s thinking, but I quickly learn that he’s trying to stop his grin from breaking through.

“Rix,” I cry, playfully slapping him on the shoulder.

“What? Trust me, if it were anyone but Wilder, I’d have real fucking issues with it. But it’s Wild. I trust him. He won’t hurt you. And let’s face it, we both know he’s had enough practice to ensure he’ll make you feel good.”

Hell, didn’t he ever.

“I know but… you don’t and⁠—”

“You’re worried that I’ll compare myself to him?” he finishes for me.

“Yeah. I know that we already fucked up. I don’t want to give you any reason to think that I want him more than you. I don’t. He’s fun, sure. But it’s you, Rix. You’re the one who owns my heart.” I press my hand to my chest, right over the organ in the hope it helps prove my words.

“I know,” he whispers. “It’s me and you, Elle. It was always meant to be. Having some fun with Wilder while we’re stuck here doesn’t change that.”

“This is crazy. You have to know that.”

He laughs again. “Oh, I know.”

We don’t say anything else. Instead, his lips find mine and we make out for what feels like hours before I finally fall asleep in his arms.

I wake with a start.

It’s late. Later than I’ve woken in a really long time.

The sun isn’t shining, but it’s light out.

I don’t move; instead, I keep my head on the pillow and watch Rix sleep.

He looks so peaceful, so content.

Unable to stop myself, I think back to last night.

He told me that he was okay with what happened, but concern still knots up my insides. Wilder and Hendrix have a close relationship, I know that better than anyone. But I’m also aware of how frustrated Rix can get with his brother.

Rix sees Wilder as the ‘better’ twin. I hate it. Just because Wilder got better grades at school and can catch a football, it doesn’t make him a better person. But Hendrix has always felt like he’s in Wilder’s shadows, fighting and failing to stand up.

I find it hard to believe a little bit of that didn’t slip in last night.

Our friendship—our relationship—might be solid, but insecurities aren’t that simple.

It tells me a lot about the trust he has in me, in our connection.

He’s right, and as far as I’m concerned, there isn’t anyone else in the world I want—would ever want—more than Rix, and it warms my heart to know he feels the same way.

I’m so lost in my own thoughts that when something—someone—moves behind me, I almost scream bloody murder, or at least I would if a large hand doesn’t cover my mouth.

“You think really loudly,” Wilder whispers. “Woke me up.”

He shuffles forward, and I suck in a sharp breath as his hot skin lines up against mine, the hardness of his morning wood against my ass.

He’s naked.

We’re both naked.

“What are you doing?” I whisper once he deems it safe to remove his hand.

“Well, I was sleeping.”

“B-but you sleep on the couch,” I counter.

“The fire went out. It got cold, fast. Rix said I could join.”

“He did, did he?” I accuse.

“I swear, he did. You were already asleep when I came in.”

“Hmmm,” I mumble, unsure as to whether I believe him or not.

“Didn’t realize just how much I lucked out until I got in and found his hot little naked body to cuddle up to.”

“Wilder,” I gasp when he drops his hand to my bare breast.

“What? Rix won’t have an issue. Remember, what happens in the dark⁠—”

“It’s not dark,” I point out.

“Fine. What happens at the cabin, stays at the cabin.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe, but you also know that I’m right. You remember just as vividly as I do the way he watched us last night. He fucking loved it. You did too.”

“I don’t remember you complaining either.”

“Fuck no. I’d never complain about that kind of action.”

He continues teasing me, pinching my nipple and palming my breast.

“You were something else last night,” he muses.

“Not sure what got into me.”

“Well, it wasn’t either of our dicks, unfortunately.”

His words shouldn’t cause a reaction in me, but damn it, they do. Just the thought of having one of them inside me does weird things to my insides.

“O-oh, I like where your mind is going right now, little rebel.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I argue.

“Like I said, you think loudly. Plus, I know you better than you think I do. I’m not as oblivious as my brother. I know that you’ve been looking at him with sex eyes for years.”

“I have not,” I argue, although weakly, because he’s right. As soon as I was aware of Rix in that kind of way, I wanted him.

“You have. You’ve been imagining what his dick might feel like inside you for years.”

I squeeze my eyes closed as my cheeks heat. I can’t count how many times I laid in bed over the years, many times with him right beside me, imagining what it would be like if he reached over and pulled me to him.

“Want me to prove it to you?”

“Wilder, what are you—Oh Jesus,” I gasp as his hand sinks between my thighs.

Every muscle in my body screams for me to stop him, to keep him out, but one brush of his fingers against my clit and my body betrays me. My legs part and I allow him to drag his fingers up my aching core.

“See?” he whispers, his breath rushing over my neck and down my back, making me shiver. “You’re soaking just thinking about Rix’s dick.”

“Y-you need to stop,” I argue weakly.

“No, I don’t,” he states, continuing to circle my clit.

“Reach for his dick,” Wilder whispers. “Make his Christmas by waking him up with your hand wrapped around him and your needy moans in his ear.”

I hesitate, but only for a few seconds. My hand slides across the small space between us and find him hard and ready for me.

I study him, looking for any sign that he might be awake and aware of what we’re doing. But there’s nothing.

“He hard?” Wilder asks.

“Y-yeah.”

“Bet he’s dreaming about you.”

Heat surges through me at the thought of me featuring in as many of Hendrix’s dreams as he has in mine.

“Or maybe he’s dreaming about watching you with me. Kinky fucker seems to really like it.”

“Wilder,” I moan when he pushes two thick fingers inside me.

As if he can hear, Rix’s dick jerks in my hold.

“That’s it. Ride my hand while you jerk him off.”

“Oh god.”

As he works me, Wilder grinds his cock against my ass, searching for some pleasure of his own.

“What do you think he’d do if he woke up right now? Suck on these addictive tits, or slide his dick straight into this tight, wet pussy?”

“Either. Both,” I pant, imagining every possibility.

“And what about me? Would I get your hand? Your mouth? Or your ass?”

“Shit. Oh god, Wilder,” I cry, his filthy words and the image they conjure up enough to push me over the edge.

But I’m not alone, because as I come down from my high, I register the movement of Rix’s cock in my hand, and more so the sticky residue that’s sliding down my skin, and when I open my eyes, I’m met with his heated blue ones.

“Oh my god. I’m sorry, I⁠—”

Lifting his hand, he presses two fingers to my lips, cutting me off.

No one says anything for long seconds as my heart rate returns to normal, and just when I think he’s going to up the ante again, Wilder presses his lips to my shoulder, giving me a chaste kiss.

“Merry Christmas, little rebel,” he says before rolling away and climbing from the bed.

I want to stop him, but then Hendrix reaches for me and pulls me into his body, his lips stealing mine and completely consuming my thoughts.