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Roomies with Benefits
Author: Ali Parker





Roomies with benefits? No need to ask me twice.

My childhood best friend needs a place to crash after a messy breakup.

And she’s not a little girl anymore. This woman has me wanting things I shouldn’t.

So I give her my guest room.

Even with a few walls between us, this good girl makes me feel like a really bad boy.

But what could go wrong? Lots…

Having her around is driving me insane with need.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Too late now.

Until we strike a deal.

We’ll matchmake for each other. Any man would be lucky to have this woman.

Besides, my curvy BFF needs to be reminded that she’s everything a man wants.

The problem?

I’m jealous and turning into a possessive jerk anytime someone looks her way.

Bff’s in bed isn’t cutting it.

I want more.

Like all of her.

Matchmaking and happy-ever-afters be damned.






To all of my wild-women readers! I love the idea of going off to college or ending back up with your BFF in an apartment and you guys have the hots for each other. So fun! Or maybe a nightmare. LOL. Hope you just love the hell out of this story. I for sure did.



<3 Ali






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“You’re a traitor!” I sang the song at the top of my lungs with my stereo in my little car blaring and crackling when the treble got too high. I didn’t care. I liked it loud. I was in a great mood and wanted to sing it out.

I swayed and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel as I sang along to the song with a catchy beat. I was probably not the target demographic at the age of twenty-six, but I didn’t care. It was my inner teenage girl that clamored to be heard on occasion.

I flipped my blinker on and took the exit off I-5 that would drop me into downtown Eugene, Oregon. I turned down the radio when the song ended. Young adults walked along the sidewalks with heavy backpacks weighing them down. The college town was where I planned to live soon. Like within weeks because I’d just been given an eviction notice by my landlord and was scrambling for somewhere to live.

I passed by Kesey Square with more college students milling about. The dress code ranged from grunge to club. I didn’t think a single one of them was sporting their natural hair color. Green, blue, and old lady white seemed to be the thing. I glanced in the rearview mirror at my own very natural auburn hair. Maybe I should dye it.

“Eyes on the road,” I reminded myself.

Food trucks were lined up with happy customers waiting for grub. I liked Eugene. It would be a nice change from Portland. Although it wasn’t all that different, maybe just a little less weird. If Portland was weird, Eugene was just odd.

Karson seemed to really like living in Eugene. Moving here was the first step down the path to our future. We’d been engaged almost a year, but it never really felt like it. We only lived about two hours apart, but our schedules were both busy and we rarely got to see each other. He was a junior professor at the University of Oregon. He kept odd hours, and with my own teaching schedule, it was like two ships passing in the night.

It was nice that we were both in the same profession. It gave us lots to talk about, even if he taught budding adults and I taught young children. I knew he loved his job and had worked hard for his career. I could teach anywhere while he had fewer opportunities. It made sense I would relocate and move in with him. He already had the house. It wasn’t big, but it was a good starter home. Playing house would be fun. And it would give us a lot more time to start planning our wedding. Things had been at a stalemate for a while.

Getting evicted might turn out to be the push we both needed. I pulled into his driveway and grabbed my purse with the key to his house safely tucked inside. My arrival was going to be a surprise. I knew he was at work. I planned on making him a nice dinner served with his favorite bottle of expensive wine and casually dropping the hint I was ready to move in with him. My plan bordered on seduction, but considering we hadn’t seen each other in a while, it shouldn’t be that hard to seduce him.

I opened the front door and was on my way to the kitchen to deposit the grocery bag when I heard a noise. I froze and strained my ears. It was music coming from down the hall. I carefully put the bag on the table. It wasn’t anything Karson would listen to. It sounded way too club-like.

“Burglar,” I whispered to myself.

I looked around for a weapon. The only thing I could see was a candlestick. That was just a little cliché, but I now understood why it was the murder weapon in so many mystery novels. I slowly made my way down the hall. The sound was coming from Karson’s bedroom. The door was open a few inches. With my body pressed against the wall, I peered through the open door.

If that was a burglar, she needed a class on proper burgling attire. I pushed open the door with my ears burning. There was only one explanation for the woman wearing nothing but satin panties with a matching bra in baby blue. She looked to be barely eighteen. Possibly early twenties.

She shrieked when she saw me and reached for a pillow to cover her nakedness. “What are you doing in here?!”

“Me? What are you doing? Why are you taking pictures of yourself in your underwear?!”

She scrambled to the other side of the bed, dragging the comforter with her. She held it in front of herself while she stared me down. “How did you get in here?” she snapped.

“With my key,” I retorted. “How did you get in here?”

“With the key Professor Harrison gave me,” she said. “He told me to come to his place and make myself comfortable until he got home. Are you the housekeeper?”

I had to put the candlestick down to keep from throwing it at the woman who looked like she could be a lingerie model. Her words were echoing through my mind but not adding up.

“I am not the housekeeper,” I said on an exhaled breath. “How do you know Professor Harrison?”

“Who are you?” she asked again.

“How do you know Karson?” I shot back.

“I took his class spring semester,” she said. “We didn’t do anything until a month ago. We happened to run into each other while we were getting coffee. We talked and flirted and now here I am. I’ve told you who I am, your turn.”

I licked my dry lips. “You’ve been seeing each other for a month?”


“Oh,” I murmured.

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