The Play (Briar U, #3)(90)

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.

“She is fun. And the sex was great,” I say roughly.

“Then why do you look so pissed?”

I gaze down at him unhappily. “Because I broke my vow.”

“Fuck the vow.”

“I wanted to stick by it,” I say in a tired voice. “You weren’t here last year. My partying is the reason we didn’t beat Harvard.”

Conor rolls his eyes. “If you truly believe that, then you’re an arrogant prick. One player doesn’t make a team.”

“It wasn’t one player, it was two. Our captain was out, too. Nate and I were the top two players on the team.”

“Well, shit happens. Some teams lose their top three, four, five, to injuries. It’s just bad luck.”

“I guess.” I’m still unconvinced. I release another sigh. “I just wanted to be a good captain this year.”

“Dude, you are a good captain. I mean, look at the shit you tolerate. Bucky and Jesse wanted a pig, and you made yourself look like a complete idiot in front of Coach to make it happen for them. Cut yourself some slack.”