Page 81 of Fake Shot

Jules

Trust me, I’m plenty safe from him. He’s got an iron will and finds it way too easy to resist me.

Audrey

I trust you, but this feels like playing with fire.

I glance up to give her a reassuring look, but Colt’s between us as he walks toward me with a margarita for each of us in his hands.

Jules

I promise you, everything is going to be fine.

Chapter Thirty-One

JULES

Idon’t know what’s wrong with me, but I am absolutelylivingto drive Colt crazy. He doesn’t want to want me? Fuck that. I’m going to make sure he can’t resist me by the end of the night.

Actually, never mind, I know exactly what’s wrong with me—this is the liquid courage of four margaritas. Will I regret this in the morning? Possibly. Do I care? Not in the least.

Leaning back against him while he bends over me to help line up the pool cue, I revel in the feel of his hard length where he’s cradled in the crevice between the pockets of my jeans. He shifts his weight forward, pressing his rock-hard dick into me. He wasn’t lying. I’m absolutely convinced that no woman has ever thought she needed something longer when she was with Colt. I should probably be scared of the size of his dick. Instead, I’m trying to encourage him to use it to deflower me.

“What are you laughing about?” he asks, his voice extra-husky and quiet, even though his face is next to mine.

It’s then that I realize my chest is shaking as I try to hold in the giggles. “The word ‘deflower.’ It’s such a bizarre word. Like, who thought of using that word to describe taking someone’s virginity?”

Colt’s sigh is so forceful it engulfs me in his margarita-scented breath, then he stands. I miss his body heat immediately, so I stand too. Turning toward him, it’s hard to miss the tortured look on his face—the way his eyes focus in on me with longing, but his jaw ticks with the effort of restraint.Good.

“What’s wrong, Colt?” My voice is the kind of teasing that borders on mocking. “Does it bother you that I’m a virgin?”

“It only bothers me that you keep bringing it up.”

I take my fingertips and trail them down the front placket of his shirt, over the ridges of the small buttons, and stop when I reach the buckle of his belt.

“Why shouldn’t I bring it up? It’s not something I’m ashamed of.” Tilting my chin up defiantly, I meet his heated gaze. In the low light, his eyes are practically black, and they’re so focused on me that I almost shrink back and admit that it’s a lie. That I am ashamed—not of my status as a virgin, but of my inability to be trusting and open enough with another person to give myself over in that way. But I could, with him.

He grips my jaw, tilting my head up so I’m forced to look at him. “Why do youreallykeep telling me you’re a virgin?” His hand slips down my throat until he’s got his fingers resting along the side of my neck. I’m certain he can feel the way my heart is racing, pumping blood through meso fast that I can feel my pulse pounding beneath his fingertips.

“Because you can solve this problem for me.”

“Wrong. Answer,” he grits out, his voice low and growly.

“What do you want me to say, Colt?” I ask, already knowing the answer. He wants the truth. He wants to know why I’m askinghim.

“Why me, Jules?”

“I already told you this morning.” I feel myself sway as I look up at him. He’s not gripping my neck hard enough for me to lack oxygen, so this dizziness must be the alcohol. I think the fact that I can deduce this means I’m notthatdrunk? “You’re the one person who, I think, wants to sleep with me,andwho I also trust.”

“That might be the start of it,” he says, his eyes searching mine, “but that’s not the whole reason.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the whole reason, then?” My tone is back to mocking him.

“When you figure it out, you let me know.”

“Colt,” I say, letting my body slump back against the pool table. “You are the ultimate tease. You know I’m willing, and I know you want me. Why are you making this so hard?”

“Trust me, Jules. One day, you’ll be glad I did.”

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