It was one of those rare weekends.

The kind where I got to sleep in and didn't have to worry about spilling my guts during practice. We were free for the next twenty-four hours, but I was well aware of how much we could have used the extra ice time. Our hockey team, the Fenton Falcons, were on a four game losing streak. And while it was still early on in the season, it had the potential to hurt our standings if we didn't get our shit together soon.

Taking a moment for the brain fog to dissipate, I stared at the popcorn ceiling above my head. The house I shared with three of my teammates was quiet except for the low hum of country music coming from downstairs. That was a sure sign of one thing; Hendrix was making breakfast.

It was only then that I noticed it. A savory scent that was so pungent I was almost able to taste whatever was being whipped up below me. I dragged in a deep breath and shut my eyes again.

Bacon.

With the promise of a meal, I shifted across the queen sized mattress. The black duvet that covered my bare ass rubbed up against my skin as I rolled out of bed. It tempted me, begging me to stay for a few minutes longer. But I wasn't stupid. If I wanted a fighting chance at scoring some food I'd need to get down to the kitchen before Booker did.

Luckily for me, while he ate like a garbage disposal, he also slept like a rock.

My feet met the cold hardwood floor and I bent over to pick up a pair of sweatpants that had been hanging on the rim of my hamper. I stepped over the jeans I had been wearing the night before. A smirk found its way across my face as I recalled how they got there.

It had been a while since I had more than one woman in my bed.

I usually liked to take my time; spoil whichever lucky lady ended up between my sheets. But the night before had been a pleasant surprise when Mila, another senior who I had a casual relationship with, brought a new friend along.

It was a good thing her and I had going. Two semi-friends who would occasionally hang out and end the session with a romp in my room––or wherever else we found ourselves when the waves of lust hit. If either one of us ever needed to get our rocks off, we were a simple text away. And I didn't have to worry about the commitment and emotional exhaustion that went along with actually dating someone.

My preferred kind of relationship.

But the night before had been unexpected. I was on the couch with a new sorority pledge when Mila waltzed through the front door of the Hockey House. She was in a crop top and jean skirt that had the crotch of my pants growing tight. The swell of her breasts were exceptional, cupped to perfection in the cream corseted top.

Mila's smoky eyes met mine through the crowd of college students that had transformed our living room into a club dance floor. The sea gyrating bodies separated us and it wasn't long before I lost sight of her. I didn't sweat about it. It was an unspoken guarantee that the two of us were going to find each other and sneak away at some point in the night.

I attempted to fall back into the dull conversation with the freshman next to me. She pressed her chest into the side of my arm as she rambled on about her course load that semester. Thankfully, she didn't need much reassurance to keep going. An occasional nod of my head was all I had to contribute to keep her manicured fingers continuing their dangerous trek up my leg.

When I posed the question about whether she wanted to go and check out the new landscaping we had put in at the side of the house, she was up in a matter of milliseconds.

A sloppy blowjob later and I was ready to join the festivities with the rest of my boys.

Maybe thirty minutes had passed. I had been in the midst of a beer pong battle, with Booker as my heavily distracted partner, when I received a text from Mila to come upstairs. Needless to say, the next time Booker stopped the game to have a prolonged conversation with the pizza delivery guy, I made my break.

An image of the jean mini skirt that Mila was wearing that evening filtered through my head. What I wouldn't do to hike the material up over her hips and use it as a handle as I railed her from behind. A wicked smile took over my face. Actually, that's exactly what I was going to do.

But there was a little speed bump in my plan.

The light from the hallway sliced into the darkness of my bedroom. Mila was already in my unmade bed. The dark tresses of her hair were pressed up against my headboard, her hand disappearing underneath the waistline of her skirt. The other was on the head of a brunette who was planting delicate kisses down the length of her lean body.

Did I find the stairway to heaven?

"Mind shutting the door?" Mila's sultry voice had caressed my ears. "You're letting in a draft."

I did as I was told, shutting the door behind me and effectively leaving us in the dark. With a flick of my wrist I twisted the lock. A click filled the room, adding to the sound of lips meeting flesh. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The figures across the room nothing but shadows playing in the dark.

"I brought a friend for us today." Mila's words were like a siren leading a ship out to sea. I took a step towards the alluring sound. She was ready to wreck me. And I would have the pleasure of doing it right back. "She's a really good girl."

I stalked towards them with tantalizing steps, stopping just shy of the oak bed frame. "Is she now? I'll have to be the judge of that."

Mila's little pet made eye contact with me then. The little bit of light that filtered through the window above my nightstand illuminated her round face and pouty lips. She crawled over to me with the gracefulness of a house cat. There was an extra wiggle in her ass as she swayed her hips.

I grinned at the prospect. Did Mila warn this girl that she was about to lay with wolves? My hand reached out, wrapping around the delicate skin of her throat and forcing her chin upwards. I swept my thumb against the edge of her jaw. A tender moment before the chaos Mila and I were about to inflict upon her.

"What's your name sweetheart?" I purred, the member between my thighs rock hard.

There was a pause as she drew in a shaky breath. I couldn't tell if she was aroused or nervous. "Jasmine."

"Jasmine," I echoed, using my other hand to push back a stray curl that had fallen over her face. "What are you majoring in?"

She melted into my touch and swallowed before saying, "Economics."

I emitted a low whistle. A grin settled across my face as I peered at the person who brought her. "We have a smarty pants in our mists, Mi."

Mila's hand didn't stop running circles over her most sensitive area. Her hazel eyes sparked. I could tell she was growing impatient, but she knew better than to interrupt me. There was a process I had to go through before accepting a new toy.

Lust filled eyes dropped back down. "Why did you come here tonight, Jasmine?"

Her tongue ran over her bottom lip, boosting the shine of her lip gloss. "I want to get fucked."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you?"

While she nodded I took a moment to appreciate her curves. Her ass was a mound against the black skirt she was wearing. It wasn't as short as Mila's, but the little slit up her thigh beckoned me to unwrap the gift that was brought for me.

"Well then," I said, rubbing my thumb across her bottom lip. "Consider this your lucky day because I'm going to fuck you until you have trouble walking."

Mila's delighted giggle rang through my head as I shoved Jasmine onto her back, legs spreading––

I splashed cold water in my face to banish the memory. The last thing I wanted was a semi while I was downstairs eating breakfast with the guys. I could put it in the spank bank and save it for later. Better yet, I could send a text out to Mila and see if her and her friend were down for round two.

Or four.

Focusing on the depressing drone of whichever country singer Hendrix had on, I descended down the stairs two at a time. That was one way to kill the mood.

I scratched at my scalp as I entered the kitchen. "Turn that shit off, will you?"

For as long as we'd been teammates, Hendrix and I had an ongoing musical feud. While he chose to stay true to his country roots I was much more partial to the whirring on an electric guitar.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Hendrix drawled without sparing me a glance.

Our goalie continued to loom over the stove, giving whatever he had in the stainless steel pan his undivided attention. "Breakfast should be ready in a minute."

I slid into a barstool by the island. My elbow butt up against a graveyard of bottles from the night before. "What's on the menu?"

"Anything that I could coat in grease."

That shouldn't have been appealing, but the queasiness in my stomach made me more than willing to take anything that slid in front of me.

"Booker gave you his blessing to make something that doesn't fit into his holy trinity?"

While our starting centreman was truly an anomaly when it came to eating, he had standards that rivaled our team's nutritionists.

High carb, higher protein and low fat.

As a general rule, baked goods and refined sugars were not allowed under his roof, and there always had to be a fresh carton of milk in the fridge.

An amused glint made its way to Hendrix's ice blue eyes. "Considering he relapsed into smashing back gin and tonics after he ran out of tequila last night, I can guarantee he's not going to fight me on it."

With a shake of my head I breathed out a laugh. "Rookie."

Hendrix barked out a laugh. "Don't we know it."

"Morning."

Easton, the brains of the house, stood in the opening that led to the front foyer. He was in a pair of black basketball shorts and a gray t-shirt as if he was on this way to work out. I wanted to snort. Leave it to Easton to wake up and hit the gym on our day off.

Always the overachiever.

"Just in time for breakfast," Hendrix announced as he turned to place a plate of over-easy eggs on the island.

When Easton didn't move I raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Why do you look like someone threw your computer off a cliff?"

I studied him again. For someone who went to go workout he was dry as bone. Had he not left yet? Did he dry off on his walk back home? Easton's arms hung by his side as he shifted from one foot to another.

"You all good, bud?" Hendrix pressed. There was a parental concern that seeped into his voice. Over the years of knowing Hendrix, I don't even think he meant to do it. There was this natural caregiver-like quality to him.

Easton offered us a stiff smile. "We're going to have to set out another plate for breakfast."

Both Hendrix and I exchanged looks from across the island, unsure of what he was talking about. It wasn't until someone came to stand beside him that things registered.

Waves of brunette hair sat on top of her head in a messy bun. A couple of tendrils had fallen loose and were dangling over the parameters of her face, framing her high cheekbones. My gaze swept over her blemish-free face only to land on espresso coloured eyes.

My brow furrowed deeper as I scanned the length of her lean body. An oversized flannel hung off of her torso, concealing the tiny waist I was sure she was hiding. In the two years we had been living together, Easton had never brought a girl home. Hell, I wasn't even sure he went on dates. But if this was the kind of women he was into, the fucker had good taste.

An air of familiarity blew over me. I knew this girl from somewhere, but where had I seen her before?

I tried to dig around in my fuzzy recollections for a moment in time where me and this olive-skinned goddess would have crossed paths. I could only assume she was a student from the Fenton pin she had on the duffle back thrown over her shoulder. Maybe we had taken a class together at some point?

Whatever the cause was, I pondered on her and Easton's relationship. Was it serious or did I have a chance to swoop in and score?

Appreciating her figure, my gaze continued downwards. I swallowed. Her long legs were encased in a pair of simple, black leggings. Man wouldn't I give for them to be wrapped around my––

My dirty thoughts stalled for a moment as a memory flooded back from a week early. Those legs. They were the same ones that had once been visible until a little black dress. My eyes shot back up to her face which was now dusted with a hint of blush on her cheeks.

"Guys," Easton said, breaking me from my thoughts. "Meet Celeste. Our new roommate."

_ _ _ _ _

author's note:

I kinda went in on this chapter. I'm not going to lie, I got a little carried away with the scene between Maverick, Mila, and Jasmine. That should give you a good indication of where this story is going lol

What are we thinking so far? Do you think Maverick is going to be welcoming to his new roommate?

We'll find out in the next chapter ;)

Happy reading!