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Spike had been in his room all day. He didn’t even know when dawn had turned to dusk. Intent as he was on practicing his guitar and writing his latest verse. Something had been in his head all day. Knocking around. He just couldn’t seem to get it out.

He barely registered the knock on his door. Or the sound of it creaking open. Until he heard that familiar, throaty voice.

“Hey playa.”

Spike looked up. To find Faith Lehane standing in the doorway of his bedroom. The brunette was wearing her hair down to her shoulders. Her eyes were smoky. Her gorgeous lips were painted an alluring red. She was rocking black leather pants. And a tight, white top with no bra. Her large, firm breasts on display. Round, dark nipples practically poking through the top.

Christ, Spike thought. With great effort, he managed to tear his eyes away from her chest. She’s so fucking sexy. And she goddamn knows it.

“Not heading out tonight?” the brunette asked. Smiling flirtatiously at him. And running a finger through her hair. Spike noted her eyes darting to his bare chest and stomach. And his too tight for comfort jeans.

“Figured I’d stay in,” Spike said. Casually. Laying his guitar down, he stretched out a little. Taking in a short breath to give his stomach and abs even more definition. “Write a little.”

“You gals heading out?” Spike asked.

“Yeah,” Faiths said. “Figured we’d dance the night away.”

“Noice,” Spike said. He picked up his guitar again and began to strum it. “Well, break a leg.”

A moment later, he heard a sweet voice chime in.

“Wanna join us?”

When Spike looked up again, he saw Buffy Summers had taken Faith’s place. The blonde was also wearing her golden locks down. Exactly how he liked it. Her face was perfectly made up. Cheeks painted pink. Lips pouty and kissable.

Buffy was in a little black dress. Which showed plenty of her golden cleavage and cut off mid-thigh. With black knee-high boots as the finishing touch on the killer combination. She looked simply to die for. Spike found his jeans growing even more tighter.

Christ, Spike thought. Gritting his teeth. Lord give me strength.

If the women even suspected what sorts of thoughts were running through his mind, Spike knew he’d be tossed out of their apartment faster than a pissed-soaked New York minute. He decided the best way to stay out of trouble was to keep his distance.

“I’m good,” Spike said. Lowering his head back to his lap. A moment passed.

“Cool,” Buffy said.

“Have a good night,” Faith chimed in.

“You too,” Spike said.

When they shut his door, Spike waited. Only when he’d heard the main door of their apartment and their voices completely drown out did he let lay back. Now, setting the guitar aside, Spike covered his face with his hands. And let out a long, pitiable groan.

Wondering how in the fuck he got himself into this.

Two months ago, Spike couldn’t have believed his luck when he answered the roommate wanted advert. When the door had opened, he’d found himself looking at the two sexiest women he’d ever seen.

Buffy Anne Summers and Faith Lehane. A gorgeous blonde and a stunning brunette. A quick interview later, they’d invited him to share their two-bedroom apartment.

It was like he’d died and gone to hot girl heaven.

Then, that first night, sitting in his room, he’d discovered the truth. It dawned on him as he heard noises coming from Buffy and Faith’s bedroom. Like a baseball bat to the back of his head.

It was then he realised that Buffy and Faith weren’t just roommates. They were, in fact, “roommates.”

Since a threesome with two gorgeous lesbians wasn’t on the menu, Spike knew what he had to do. Making sure his door was locked, he dropped his jeans, then got on the bed and reached for the lubricant.

“Christ,” Spike muttered after he'd finished yet another vigorous session of self-relief. Just as he had that first night after hearing moans from their bedroom. “I’m so fucked.”





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