Page 1 of Bad Pucking Roommate

Prologue - Luca

“You want me to dowhatwith your girlfriend?” I gape at Charlie when he doesn’t break into a fit of laughter.

“You heard me.”

“Let’s assume I didn’t hear youcorrectly. Say it again.” There’s no way Charlie Bowmen, junior, captain, and all-around best player on our team asked me, a lowly sophomore, to fuck his girlfriend.Not unless I’m dreaming.

“I want you to fuck Jessie,” he repeats.

Cocking my head to the side, I rub a finger over my ear as I search his face to spot the lie. Either he’s got a great poker face, or he’s dead serious.

“Hazing is only for new guys, right?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Charlie crosses his arms over his chest with an impatient frown.

“Come on. This is clearly hazing. No way this is a serious request.”

He gives me a hesitant once-over as he chews on his lip, and for a second, I think he’s going to relent and confess I’m right. “Jessie and I have a certain…kink. She likes to perform, and I like to watch.”

Wow, not the confession I was expecting.

“Cool. Fine. Good for you guys. Sounds hot.” Under the weight of Charlie’s unwavering stare, words spew from my mouth, though I’m not sure what they are. “You’re seriously not hazing me?”

His one eyebrow arches in a perfect imitation of The Rock, and my stomach takes a nose dive.

He’s serious. Shit! Am I allowed to say no to my captain? Do I want to?

I don’t broadcast it, but I’m not exactly experienced in the sex department. In fact, you might say I’m completelyinexperienced. I don’t know what makes a person qualified for a request like this, but it’s safe to say I’m the most unqualified candidate they could’ve picked. I’ll probably embarrass the hell out of myself trying to open the condom wrapper alone.

On the other hand, I’m also a teenage kid, attending an elite hockey academy. In other words, I’m competitive as hell and trying to prove myself every day, regardless of the challenge. So, instead of admitting I’m out of my league I ask, “Why me?”

“You’re her type.” Charlie lets his arms fall to his sides and braces them on the desk behind him as he leans against it. “Tall, lean, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. You’re a walking wet dream to her.”

“You just described half the team. Including yourself.”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, she also likes your presence on the ice. Don’t ask me to explain that.”

I don’t know if he’s implying he doesn’t know the answer or just doesn’t want to share it. Either way, I don’t press.

“So, this is completely up to her, or…”

“Are you asking if you’remytype?” His brows draw together, and I get the sense I’ve offended him, though I’m not sure why.

“More like why you’d let her pick me, I think.”

“You think?”

“You said you’re both into this.” I hold my hands up as I take a step backward. “And if I’m her choice I’m trying to wrap my brain around why you’d be okay with that.”

Charlie seems to relax a little, which boggles my mind since I’m fairly certain I did a shit job of explaining myself.

“Part of what I like is telling others what to do. You listen and do your job in practice, so…” he trails off, leaving me to fill in the blanks, which I assume are that I’ll listen as well in the bedroom as I do on the ice. And actually, the idea of someone guiding me has some appeal. After all, I can’t really screw it up if I’m just following instructions, right?

“So, are you in?”

Once again, my pride has me answering before logic can make its case. “When did you want to…do this?”

“Tonight.”

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