Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

EDEN

I came with a roll of my hips and a raw, low moan.

My back arched. I clawed at the blankets with my long, manicured nails. My head tipped back and I saw stars.

So many stars in my otherwise blackened vision. My body was lost in pure bliss. A perfect moment that lasted forever, and never long enough.

Slowly, I drifted back down to Earth.

Gradually, I loosened my grip on the blankets, rocked my hips in an easy rhythm, encouraging, pushing, until Mitch came. Pounding once, twice, before spilling himself inside my body.

In turn, Mitch stole an orgasm from Jagger.

The other centre knelt behind him, sliding smoothly in and out of his rear hole. He groaned and grunted, grinding out every drop of pleasure and release.

Mitch sagged forward, breathing heavily until he regained his breath.

"Fucking hell," he breathed. "That was awesome." He looked down at me and grinned, blue eyes shining like they always did. The only time he didn't smile was when he was on the rink. Then, his eyes were twin chips of ice in a mask of concentration. If the world ended while he held a hockey stick in his hand, he'd never notice.

"It wasn't bad," Jagger said. He slid out of Mitch and flopped down beside me. The bed dipped and shivered under his weight. At six-foot-five, he didn't do anything small. "Thanks."

He rolled off the bed and started to gather up his clothes.

"Hey, it was better than not bad." Mitch squinted at him.

"Yeah, it was good." Jagger shrugged.

Mitch slid his cock out of me and joined Jagger in the search for his clothes. "Don't give too many compliments, will you?" His tone was slightly sarcastic, but unruffled. He was used to Jagger's permanent underwhelm.

Jagger chuckled. "Never." He scooped up Mitch's T-shirt and flicked it at him. "Don't want you getting a big head."

Mitch caught the shirt and pulled it over his head.

"He wouldn't say anything bad about us." I sat up and pulled my knees together. "He enjoys fucking us too much."

I spoke lightly too, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone, but the way they both hopped up so quickly to leave… They did the same thing every time. It shouldn't sting, but it did. The reaction was stupid. Irrational. We weren't in a relationship. This was sex, nothing more. I knew that. So did they. The arrangement suited us.

And yet, if they wanted to stick around for longer, I'd be okay with that. I didn't expect them to stay around all night, but they didn't have to rush out so quickly either. Did they?

Mitch grinned. "Accurate. That's because we're both so irresistible."

I resisted the urge to say Jagger only liked us because we put out. Instead, I pulled the blankets over myself. I needed a shower. That would wait until after they left. What time they'd give me, I'd savour.

"Yes, you are." Jagger grabbed the front of Mitch's T-shirt and yanked him forward to kiss his mouth. He pulled back and leaned over to do the same to me. "We have morning skate tomorrow. We better go."

Jagger was the centre for the Opal Springs Ghouls ice hockey team, and Mitch was his alternate. We often joked about me being in the middle of a centre sandwich, but they were as hands on with each other as they were with me. Their relationship with each other was as casual as the one with me. They worked together and they fucked. They were friends, but that was all.

For now.

"You good?" Mitch waited until Jagger stepped aside to pull on his track pants, before he leaned over to kiss me.

I knew better than to think he was concerned. He always asked me the same question. It was a habit at this point.

I always responded the same way. "Yep, I'm good."

Sometimes, I wanted to broach the subject of our relationship, or lack thereof, but I didn't want to ruin what we had. We all made it clear from the start that we were nothing more than fuck buddies. For almost two years, we'd been just that. Exclusive fuck buddies. End of story.

I asked myself what changed for me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe it was seeing my two best friends, Cat and Marley, settling down with their boyfriends and having children. I had no intention of having kids, but they had three boyfriends each. Men who thought they hung the moon. Men who didn't fuck and run.

A girl couldn't help feeling a little envious.

"Are you sure?" Mitch pressed gently. "You look… I don't know."

"I'm tired," I said quickly. "I could use a holiday." The last one I had, Marley and I went to the Gold Coast to give her a break from the man trouble she was having at the time. She and her guys worked everything out, but for a while there, things were tense.

"You should take one," Jagger said. "Everyone needs a break once in a while. Go away somewhere warm and enjoy yourself."

Of course, he didn't suggest either of them would go with me. Even if we had that kind of relationship, they were right at the start of hockey season. They wouldn't have a real break for months. Most of their attention would be focused on training, travelling and playing. With the occasional fuck squeezed in here or there.

"Things are busy at work," I said.

They weren't really. Winter was always slow for my florist shop. Most of my time was occupied with taking bookings for spring and summer weddings, and placing orders for next year's Valentine's Day.

Jagger shrugged. "Okay, well. Some other time." He sat on the end of the bed and pulled on his sneakers. "I'll see you later." To Mitch he said, "Coming?"

"Yeah." Mitch gave me another look and a smile before pushing his feet into his own shoes and stepping away from the bed. "Thanks, it was fun, like always." He gave me another quick kiss before they both slipped from my bedroom and out the front door.

"Yeah, fun," I said to the empty room.

Outside, the engine of Jagger's car roared to life and headed off down the road.

With an impatient shove, I pushed the covers off and headed into the shower to rinse off the sweat from my body, and the cum that trickled down the insides of my thighs. I washed my short, purple hair, stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off.

I draped my towel over the rail on the wall and pulled on a pair of bright pink track pants and the black T-shirt I slept in. Perched where Jagger sat not ten minutes earlier, I pulled on fluffy purple bed socks and slipped out to the kitchen.

I flipped on the electric kettle that sat on the white quartz countertop, and readied a mug for hot chocolate.

"Your friends are gone?" Brock Edwards stepped through the door that led to the garage, and tossed his keys on the kitchen island. Employed as a security guard for various locations, including the Ghouls' arena, he worked irregular hours.

"You just missed them." I grabbed another mug out of the cupboard after he nodded to my silent question, and added hot chocolate powder to his.

Technically, he owned the house, having bought out my mother after their divorce. He let me live here too, even though he wasn't my stepfather anymore. The place was big enough that we didn't get in each other's way, and it was close to my work.

I worried my mother would think I was taking sides, but she hadn't said anything. Not to me anyway. She moved on so quickly, she probably didn't give the situation a second thought. Now living in Sydney, she was already engaged to some property developer. She seemed happy. Settled. More so than when she lived here.

I didn't know why she'd left, and Brock never brought it up. He closed the door on that chapter in his life and put it behind him. I'd decided a long time ago not to ask. If he wanted to share, he would.

"Shame." Brock leaned against the island and watched me make hot chocolate.

"Why's that?" I glanced over to see his gaze lingering in the region of my breasts. My face heated and I turned back to finish stirring our drinks.

"They seem nice." He reached over to pick up his drink, his hand brushing my arm before he gripped the mug and stepped back.

"Yeah, nice." I wrapped my fingers around my mug and inhaled the chocolatey scent before I took a sip.

"Have you had enough of nice?" He gave the impression he was asking for a particular reason.

I decided it was better not to suggest he elaborate on that either.

"No, I just…" I turned to lean my back against the countertop.

"You want more?" He sipped his own drink and nodded his approval at the taste. "Let me guess, they don't want that."

I sighed out my nose. "I don't know what I want. We all agreed we didn't want a commitment. But sometimes I'd like to—I don't know—have an actual relationship."

"Have you told them that?" he asked, eyebrows elevated slightly. "Or is it that you don't want an actual relationship with them? Or you can't choose which one you want a relationship with? From what I can tell, they seem tight." He wasn't passing judgment, just stating a fact.

"They are," I agreed. "They're best friends. Best friends with benefits."

"So, they're a package deal?" Brock asked. "Are you worried if you try to choose one, they'll end up choosing each other?"

"All of the above." I ran a hand over the back of my head, tangling my fingers in my hair. "I don't know, maybe I should end things with them. Give them a chance to find someone they want to be with."

"Is that what you want?" Brock looked at me more intently.

"Not really," I admitted. "Am I being a brat? I have things really good with them, but it's not enough. Maybe I'm being fussy. I mean, how many girls have two hot hockey players who want to…" I cleared my throat.

Brock was only my stepfather for a handful of years, but talking about sex with him was awkward for me. I mean, him and my mother would have…

Yeah, better not finish that thought. I didn't have any brain bleach.

Brock, on the other hand, didn't hold back. "Fuck you? I can think of two more women, off the top of my head, who have partners on the same team: Cat and Marley."

Of course, he'd known my friends almost as long as I had. "If Mitch and Jagger can't give you what you need, they might have friends who can."

"That wouldn't be awkward at all," I said sarcastically. "Asking them to introduce me to someone else." I took another sip of my rapidly cooling drink.

"Awkward for them, or for you?" he asked. "If you want to be with them, you should tell them that. If they decide to walk, that's their loss." After a moment he added, "Do you think they'd walk away?"

I considered the question. Shook my head and shrugged. "I don't know. They might want to leave things the way they are."

"You don't have to do that if you don't want to," he reminded me. "You're allowed to decide for yourself if that isn't what you want." He paused for a moment. "Let me ask you this. How would you feel if they wanted to be with you? Is that the real issue here? You're scared they might agree to a relationship outside the bedroom?"

"I…" I hadn't considered that. The scenarios that crossed my mind were either: I wouldn't say anything, or if I did, they'd walk away. Not for a moment had I considered they might be in for anything more. Not really.

When Brock cocked his head at me, I realised I hadn't given him an answer.

"I guess so," I conceded. "Everything would change. For one thing, they'd be here more often. Or I'd be at their place more often."

They shared a small house near the ice hockey arena. Separate bedrooms. As far as I knew, they didn't touch each other unless they were with me. Outside of my bedroom, they were friends and workmates. Buddies.

For some reason, Brock looked irritated at that idea. "They're welcome here." He set down his mug and stepped closer. "I don't mind listening to you."

His words hung between us for the longest time, becoming thick enough to touch, as they gradually worked their way into my brain.

Listening to me? Holy shit.

My face was so hot it must have been flaming red. I swallowed down my mouthful of hot chocolate before I choked.

"Wouldn't that be awkward?" I muttered.

He brushed hair off the side of my face with his knuckle and leaned in closer. "Not at all," he whispered. "I want to hear you getting off. Next time they want to come over, make sure I'm here. I want to hear you cry out."

"Brock," I said softly. My whole body was trembling in response to the nearness of his. "We shouldn't…"

His lips brushed over my cheek. He whispered, "I'm not married to your mother anymore."

He stepped away and grabbed both our mugs to put them in the dishwasher before he headed into his own room.

I leaned against the counter for a little while, looking at his closed door before I headed to bed.