She flicks her tongue out to tease my top lip. “I thought maybe that almost-kiss had been an accident.”

“It was. I was told to keep it professional while you were rehabbing me.”

She pulls back. “By who?”

“My coach. I listened for as long as I could, but the last thing I was going to do was let you come to this event, where your douche ex or one of those wannabe hockey players could make a move, when I should’ve said screw it and done it weeks ago.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you decided to screw it.” Stevie shifts in her seat, her warm palm landing on my cheek, fingertips brushing along my jaw and curling into the hair at the nape of my neck. Her lips part, welcoming me in again. I want to get inside her, taste every single inch of her. I want the smell of her sex all over my skin and my sheets and in my mouth.

I can’t get close enough to make any of that happen with the center console in my way, so eventually I break the kiss. “I need to get naked with you.”

“Same.” Stevie starts to loosen my tie.

While car sex was fun when I was a teenager, it’s definitely not comfortable, or smart, since we’re in the middle of a parking lot. I cover her hand with mine and bring her fingers to my lips. “In a bed, preferably.”

She blinks a few times and bites her lip. “Right. Yes. Good idea.”

We come back together for one more kiss that lasts so long the windows start to fog before we separate and buckle ourselves in.

“We should probably go to my place.” Stevie sounds like she’s trying to be conversational, but her tone is low and husky. She twists her hands in her lap, then stretches her arm across the seat and slips her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck.

I’d rather have the smell of her on my sheets, but I don’t want to run into my brother on the way to my bedroom. I also don’t want Stevie to feel compelled to be quiet because she’s worried he’s going to hear. His company never is, but this is not even remotely close to the same. “Sure.”

The drive home feels like it takes a million years. We make out in the elevator on the way to the penthouse floor and don’t stop until Stevie needs to use her fingers for more than fisting my hair and unbuttoning my shirt.

I kiss along the bare expanse of her shoulder as she punches in her access code. She gets it wrong the first time and growls, “This card-code combo is a pain in my ass.”

She manages to get it right the second time, and then we’re stumbling over each other’s feet, crashing through the door in our haste to get inside. Stevie shrugs out of my suit jacket, dropping it in a heap on the floor. She yanks on my tie, pulling my mouth down to hers as she goes to work on unfastening the remaining buttons on my shirt.

I echo her groan and spin her around, pressing her against the door. It’s never worked properly, so it clicks shut when her back hits it. I run my hands down her sides, grip two handfuls of ass, and pick her up. Stevie wraps her legs around my waist, the sound of fabric tearing making us both pause.

“Shit. I was going to return this dress,” she mumbles into my mouth.

“I can cover the cost.” Seeing as I plan to be her boyfriend, I’d like the opportunity to buy her clothes and shit. Especially nice dresses, and panties, and new sports bras, and those athletic shorts I love so much. As hot as Stevie looks all dressed up, I prefer her casual, maybe because that’s when she’s most likely to have her hands on me.

“You don’t need to do that.” She tips her chin up, not in defiance but because I’m kissing my way up her neck.

“I’m going to ruin the fuck out of this dress, so I feel it’s only fair that I replace it.” I grind against her, enjoying the fact that I can

lift her up without it causing me pain;

get a boner that doesn’t hurt like a motherfucker;

achieve the friction I’ve been dying for.

We make out against the door, essentially trying to devour each other through a kiss until the clothed humping isn’t cutting it anymore. I carry her down the hall to her bedroom and kick open the door. The space smells like distilled Stevie: something sweet like cake, a hint of her baby powder deodorant, the freshness of clean laundry, and a vaguely floral scent that I’m pretty sure belongs to her shampoo.

The bed isn’t at all girly or frilly. The comforter is a geometric gray pattern layered over white, and there aren’t seven million throw pillows to contend with.

I don’t set her down on the edge of the bed. Instead I keep my grip on her ass with one hand and use the other to help hoist myself up on the mattress, spinning us around until I can lay her down on the pillows.

“You’re going to mess your groin up again before we even get to the good stuff with this shit,” Stevie chastises, lips moving along the edge of my jaw, teeth nipping gently.

“Don’t worry. It’s not going to screw with my game.”

She shimmies back until her head hits the pillow. “It’s not your game I’m worried about.” She grabs the front of my shirt, dragging me closer, and parts her legs so I can fit myself between them.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You compromising your ability to fuck me properly.” She hooks one leg around my waist and pulls me down on top of her.

I settle into the cradle of her hips, so damn ready to get my hands and mouth all over her and my achy cock inside her. At least the ache is from being hard for the last hour and not because my balls feel like they’re trying to detach from my body. “You want to stretch me out before we get started?” I roll my hips, and she arches on a soft moan.

“Not really, no.”

I nuzzle into the hollow of her throat, breathing her in. “You can do that after, then.”

“I better not have the energy to do anything but sleep after you’re done with me.”

I push up on my arms so I can meet her hot, needy gaze. “Is that a challenge?”

She grins. “You respond better to challenges than orders, so whatever works for you and gets me the most orgasms.”

I laugh and skim her cheek with my knuckles. Porcelain smooth, warm, and perfect. “You’re pretty much the only one I’m willing to take orders from. You know that, right?”

She runs her fingers through my hair. “You followed your coaches’ orders to keep it professional.”

“Not because I wanted to but because I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t taking my rehab seriously, and I needed the time to heal.”

“So you only follow orders when it benefits you. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Mmm. It’ll benefit you too.” I kiss along the edge of her jaw. “Don’t worry, bae, I won’t screw up all the progress we’ve made while I’m screwing orgasms out of you.”

I wait for a reaction, and I’m not disappointed. Stevie snorts and jabs me in the side with one of her manicured fingernails. “Can you not be an asshole for a few minutes?”

Based on how tight my face feels, I must be grinning like an idiot. I school my expression into something more serious and pull back again so I can look at her. “Flipping my asshole switch off, but only for you, and only for an hour.”

She arches a brow. “You think you’re going to last for an hour?”