Breaking The Rules

Chapter 3

  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.