Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
“Fine, I’ll play. But only if you show me your dick.”
“Deal. You first…aw fuck, baby…wait, maybe you should put the girls away—what if Hunter walks in? You said he was home.”
“Oh, it’s a non-issue. Hunter’s a monk now. My bare boobs won’t make an impact.”
From the kitchen, I finally release the growl stuck in my throat. I thought I was coming downstairs to grab some dinner before my study date with Demi Davis. Instead, I just spent the past five minutes listening to the most nauseating Skype session in the world.
“Yeah, I’m a monk,” I holler at the doorway. “Not a motherfucking eunuch!”
I march into the living room without giving Brenna any time to cover herself up. She doesn’t deserve it. As a reward for enduring Brenna and Jake Connelly’s video sexing, I deserve to see some boobs outside of porn.
But Brenna is already shoving her shirt over her chest, so all I get is a teasing glimpse of reddish brown nipples before they disappear from view.
“Move over, you evil devil woman.” I drop my ass on the couch beside her and shove a forkful of wild rice into my mouth. I glance at the laptop sitting on the coffee table. “Hey Connelly. Nice cock.”
The man on the computer screen gives a startled curse. His gaze snaps down to his right hand, as if it’s just occurred to him he’s gripping a rather impressive erection. A blur of motion and the sound of a zipper, and then Jake Connelly glares at me with intense green eyes.
“Spying on us, Davenport?”
I swallow my food. “Is it considered spying when you’re naked Skyping in my goddamn living room?”
“Our living room,” Brenna says sweetly, reaching over to pat my shoulder.
Right, like I could ever forget. Other men might be thrilled to shack up with three chicks, but it’s not my ideal living situation. I like Brenna, Summer and Rupi individually, but throw the three of them together and the world becomes…loud. Not to mention they’re always ganging up on me.
My former roommates, Mike Hollis and Colin Fitzgerald, technically still live here too, but they’re not around nearly as much as I’d like.
Hollis only shows up on the weekends—he stays with his folks in New Hampshire during the week for his job.
Fitz is a video game designer and has been taking on a lot of contract work since he graduated Briar. Sometimes that means traveling to the game studio’s headquarters. Right now he’s in New York working on a sci-fi role-playing game, and staying at Summer’s family’s Manhattan penthouse for the duration of the gig. Lucky Fitzy. The Heyward-Di Laurentis clan is filthy rich, so he’s currently living it up in the lap of luxury.
“Connelly, get a move on. The car’s waiting for us downstairs,” another voice barks out of the laptop speakers. “We’ve got that charity photo op thing tonight.”
Jake glances over his shoulder. “Oh shit, I forgot about that.”
“What are you doing on—oh, hey Brenna!” A huge face appears on screen, a close-up so extreme that I can see up the guy’s hairy nostrils.
When the man pulls back, I experience a rare fanboy moment, because holy shit—it’s Theo Nilsson, one of the star players for Edmonton. I can’t believe Nilsson just casually strolled into Jake’s hotel room, and there’s no stopping a pang of envy at the notion that Jake is actually out in the world playing hockey with some serious legends.
When I was a kid I dreamed of playing professionally, but as I got older I realized it might not be the best path for me. The lifestyle scares me, if I’m behind honest. So I didn’t make myself eligible for the draft. Hell, I hadn’t even planned on playing in college. I came to Briar set on earning a business degree and becoming an entrepreneur. But a friend and teammate who graduated a couple of years ago lured me out of my self-imposed retirement, and now here I am.
“I have to go, babe,” Jake tells Brenna.
“Have fun getting your picture taken with all those thirsty puck bunnies,” she chirps.
Nilsson barks with laughter. “It’s a charity event for a senior citizen curling organization,” Jake’s teammate reveals.
She’s unfazed. “Have you seen Jake?” she asks Theo. “Those old broads will be all over him. Puck bunnies transcend age.”
As Brenna signs off, I shove a piece of grilled chicken into my mouth. “I can’t believe that was Theo Nilsson,” I say between bites.
“Yeah, he’s really cool. We had dinner with him last week when they played the Bruins.”
“Don’t rub it in.”
Brenna’s trademark red lips purse in a saccharine smile. Even when she’s home alone, she still takes the time to slather on that fuck-me lipstick. She’s evil. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll invite you next time.”
“I’m always a good boy,” I protest. “Just ask my dick—poor dude wants to be bad and I ain’t having it.”