His response rings with reassurance. “I’m one hundred percent clean. I get tested regularly on the team. I can show you my latest results, but they’re a month old.”

“We should get tested together,” I suggest. “Actually, I—” I halt, suddenly horrified. “Oh my God, I should’ve gotten tested immediately after finding out about Nico. Dammit, Hunter! He was sleeping with other girls. What if I’m the one with the disease?”

He chuckles ruefully. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now, because I just went down on you for a half hour. But tell you what, we’ll use a condom now and then if we ever want to do this again, we’ll take a trip down to the health center together.”

“Sounds like fun! Couples STD testing!”

He barks out a laugh. I’m glad he found that amusing and didn’t comment on the word couples. It was just a figure of speech, anyway. I know what this is and what it isn’t.

As Hunter grips the base of his dick so he can roll the condom on, I begin to applaud. “Look, you didn’t come from doing that!”

“Yeah, well, you know, the diseases talk usually kills some of the mood.”

“So you’re saying you’re not in the mood anymore?”

He secures the condom, and his erection sticks out like an iron spike. “Does that look like I’m not in the mood?”

I giggle.

“I’m just saying, now I might be able to last a little longer.”

“Good. Get in me already.” And then we’re kissing again and he’s on top of me. I’m still wet, and more than ready, when he enters me.

The moment his full length is buried deep, Hunter releases a streak of desperate curses against my lips. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good.”

He withdraws, then plunges back in.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why is sex so good?” His lust-soaked expletives heat the air between us.

“Sex or sex with me?” Yep, apparently even during the act of copulation, I resort to fishing for compliments.

“Sex with you,” he says hoarsely.

“So it wouldn’t be this good with anybody else?”

His head jerks as he shakes it, his dark hair tickling my cheek. “I don’t know if it’s ever been this good.”

I’m sure that’s probably his eight-month drought talking, but I like to think maybe it’s me.

He starts to move, and I meet him thrust for thrust by lifting my ass. As he plunges into me over and over and over again, we kiss frantically and make helpless, tortured noises against each other’s lips. It feels amazing. I don’t think I’m going to come again, but I already got my orgasm and now I get to watch Hunter as he comes apart before my eyes.

Anguish creases his forehead. He bites his lower lip, then slowly releases it. He curses. He groans. His eyes are hot with lust.

He fucks me for longer than I expected, and I realize that his chest is trembling and his features are taut because he’s trying desperately not to lose control. So I scrape my nails down his back and squeeze my inner muscles around his dick. “Let go,” I urge.

He moans. “You sure?”

“Uh-huh. There’s nothing hotter than watching you right now. Give it to me.”

Heat flares in his eyes and then his hips snap forward. The tempo quickens. His breaths come out in short pants, until he gives a final thrust and I can feel the orgasm shudder through his body. When he peers down at me, he looks sleepy and sated and it’s so damn sexy.

“That was good,” I mumble.

“So good.” His head drops again, his mouth prodding at me as his lips seek any sort of contact. They connect with my chin, and he kisses it before burying his face in my neck.

“I’m sorry I made you break your vow,” I whisper sheepishly, as I hold him tightly against me.

“I’m not,” he whispers back.

29

Hunter

“Hey, is Matty here?” I ask when Conor opens the door the next afternoon. It’s one-thirty, Demi left my house thirty minutes ago, and I’m in desperate need of advice.

Con shakes his head. “He went home with Andrea last night. Hasn’t come back yet. The rest of the guys are still passed out. And I’m about to lift some weights. Come on, you can spot me.”

“Sure, what the hell.” I step inside and take off my coat and boots.

“How was last night?” Conor asks with a knowing grin.

Incredible, I want to say. Magnificent. Tremendous. Mind-blowing. Stupendous. There aren’t enough adjectives to describe how good last night was. It was the best sex of my life, hands down.

When I woke up this morning and saw Demi lying naked in my bed, so sweet, so irresistible, I couldn’t help myself again. I made her come with my tongue, and then she gave me a handjob that made me see stars. After I spilled into her hand, she winked, brought one of her fingers to her mouth to lick it up, and I almost came again.

That girl is…incredible. Magnificent. Tremendous—okay, not enough adjectives again. She’s so sexy, and I’m attracted to everything about her. And yet as much as I want to sleep with her again, I’m also pissed at myself. I walked over here to talk to Matt about it, but looks like Conor will have to do.

We go down to the basement, where the guys have a makeshift gym. It’s not much—treadmill, a bench press, a rowing machine, and some free weights and resistance bands. Con heads for the bench and strips out of his T-shirt.

Groaning, he slaps his rock-hard stomach and says, “Do I have a booze belly? I feel like I’m bloated.”

“Are you fishing for compliments? Because your abs are tighter than a gymnast’s ass,” I grumble as I help him get the weights. I raise a brow when I see what he’s lifting. “A hundred pounds? Slacker,” I taunt.

“Hung-over,” he grunts. “I’m starting off slow.”

I snicker. “Hung-over how? I’m pretty sure I drank all your whiskey.”

“I cracked open another bottle after you left,” he says with a grin. “Stayed up till three in the morning drinking with a really hot redhead.”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure all you guys did was drink.”

“Well, no. I got laid—obvs.”

I roll my eyes. “Obvs.”

It doesn’t surprise me that he went from kissing my girl to hooking up with another one. And I doubt he did it to soothe his bruised ego—Con’s ego could sustain a direct missile hit. If he hooked up, it was because he was horny from kissing Demi, not because he needed a confidence boost after Demi went home with me.

“How about you, captain?” he asks.

I play dumb. “How about me what?”

“You never answered how last night was for you. Am I the only one who got laid?” He lies down on the bench and holds up his palms so I can deposit the barbell into them.

When I don’t answer, Conor barks out a laugh. “Come on, man, it’s not a trick question.”

“Fine. I got laid,” I admit.

“Shocking! Never saw that coming!”

“Fuck off,” I sigh.

He lifts a brow. “Why so glum? Did you blow your load too fast because of the celibacy thing? Or was it just bad sex in general?” He frowns. “That’s surprising, ’cause she looked like she’d be a lot of fun.” As he lifts and lowers the barbell, all the muscles in his arms bulge and flex.