“Why is that weird?” She sounds a tad defensive.

I gesture toward her. “I mean, look at you. You’re smoking hot. Are you saying he didn’t try to…?”

“I never said he didn’t try. But…” She trails off again.

“But what? Are you a virgin?”

“No. I’m just picky about who I let inside me.”

Damned if that doesn’t make my dick hard. She’s not allowed to say things like “inside me,” because now I’m picturing being inside her, and I’m horny as hell.

“We did other stuff,” she says. “There’s always other stuff.”

“Is there?” My throat is full of gravel.

“What, no one’s ever told you that you can come without having sex?”

“Nah. I didn’t know that.” I blink with the utmost innocence. “Can you show me?”

Brenna punches my shoulder. Light and teasing. “You wish.”

“I do wish. I don’t want to alarm you, but please direct your attention to my crotch.”

Despite her amusement, she does what I ask. Instantly, her gaze sizzles. “Oh my. Thinking about McCarthy gets you hard?”

“Like stone.” I pull her onto my lap, eliciting a squeak of surprise.

But she recovers quickly, and soon she’s rubbing that sweet ass all over me as she tries to get comfortable. “Tell your boner to stop stabbing my butt,” she grumbles.

“Hey, you’re the reason I even have a boner.” I tug her head down so I can whisper in her ear. “You’re evil, talking about all the ways you can make a guy come without putting him inside you.”

Damn, she smells so good. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo, sweet with a mere trace of spice. Which is funny, because Brenna is the exact opposite—spicy, with a hint of sweetness. I like the spice, though. I like it a lot.

“What about you?” I ask her.

“What about me?”

“What did you get out of the McCarthy arrangement?”

She arches a brow. “You really want to know what your teammate did to me?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe in the broad sense,” I finally decide.

“Nah. I’ll leave it up to your imagination.”

And my imagination is running wild, except I’m not picturing Josh McCarthy in bed with her. I’m picturing myself.

“That thing is going to poke right through your pants,” she teases, and I feel a distinct sense of loss when she slides off my lap. “Anyway, what now? Want to play one more game before we take off?” She checks her phone “It’s ten. How long is this place open until?”

“I think eleven.”

“Should we close it down?”

“Might as well.”

Bowling with a stiffy isn’t the easiest task, but I manage. I beat her for a third time, and we return our shoes and pay for our lane.

Outside, Brenna bypasses her Jeep and walks to the Mercedes instead. “Unlock it,” she orders.

My pulse quickens. I unlock the car.

Rather than open either of the front doors, she settles in the backseat. “Get in here,” she says impishly.

I’m not one to keep a lady waiting. I dive into the car, and my mouth is on hers before she can say another word. She tastes like beer and mint, and her body is soft and warm against mine. She crawls into my lap, her tongue hungrily exploring my mouth. I run my hands down the bumps of her spine before digging my fingers into her waist. I want to be in her. Desperately. But apparently that isn’t something she allows so readily.

“You’re not gonna let me fuck you tonight, are you?”

“No.” It’s a playful whisper. “You have to earn that.”

I groan against her lips. “How do I earn it?”

She merely smiles and kisses me again, sliding her hands underneath my shirt to stroke my bare chest. Christ, I love having her hands on me. And I need my hands on her. I pull her long-sleeve shirt off and tug her camisole up to her collarbone. The bra beneath it is paper-thin. She doesn’t need the padding, though. Her breasts are full, perky, fucking perfect. I tweak her nipples through the lacy material and enjoy the sweet moan I’m rewarded with.

“I’ve been dying to do this,” I growl, yanking the bra down to expose her tits. Goddamn gorgeous. I pull one beaded nipple into my mouth, suck hard, and almost get a contact high. Her skin tastes so good, and her nipple feels like heaven beneath my tongue. I’m painfully aroused as I lick the distended bud.

She moans again. At first I think it’s from pleasure, until I register the note of misery.

“What’s wrong?” I say immediately.

“I can’t believe I’m letting a Harvard player touch my boobs.”

I relax. Laughing softly, I flick my tongue against her other nipple. “Hey, it’s not like this is your first time with a Harvard player.”

“You’re the captain of the team,” she says gloomily. “This is such a bad idea. We’re playing you next week, dammit. My friends would be furious if they saw me right now.”

“Let’s not talk about hockey. And who gives a shit what your friends think.” I suck her nipple between my lips.

“I do. I care what my friends think.”

“Then you should stop.”

My mouth conquers hers in a blistering kiss that robs me of sanity. I flip her over, and now I’m on top of her, grinding my lower body against her. The backseat doesn’t offer room to maneuver, but I don’t need much. With my lips pressed tight to hers, I undo the button of her jeans and pull them down along with her panties, low enough that I can access the warm paradise between her legs.

She whimpers when I drag the pad of my thumb over her swollen clit. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” I say thickly.

“Oh yeah.”

I keep rubbing, teasing, exploring. I skim my fingertips down to her opening and find her impossibly wet. Jesus. I want to be inside her more than I want my next breath. I practically weep at the knowledge that I can’t be in there tonight. I dip my fingers in all that sweet moisture and then use it to rub slow circles over her clit.

Her hips start rocking. I prop up on one elbow, watching her expression go hazier and hazier as I play with her pussy. “I like having you like this,” I whisper. “On your back. Legs spread.” I kiss her again, and she sucks hard on my tongue, summoning a low groan from me.

“This is such a bad idea,” she whispers back.

“Then tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“No what?”

Brenna pushes her pussy into my hand. “Don’t stop.”

I chuckle against her shoulder before dipping my head so I can suck and lick her nipples again.

She lets out a breathy moan. “Don’t ever stop.”

I smile. I distinctly remember her telling me not so long ago that she would never, ever hook up with me. And now here we are, fooling around in the backseat of a car, her pussy mine to discover. My finger slides inside her and—

“Oh my fucking God,” I choke out. My head pops up from her tits. “You’re so tight.” I wonder if it’s because she hardly ever fucks, or maybe I’m making assumptions about that. Just because she didn’t sleep with McCarthy doesn’t mean she hasn’t recently slept with someone else. She said she was picky, not celibate.