Page 87 of Fake Shot

The moan she lets out at the contact has an electrical current racing through me. It starts at the base of my spine and travels straight to my balls, and I can feel them tightening up, so I move my hand from her breast to her ribcage and guide her off my dick.

“Grab hold of my shoulders,” I say.

“What?” She looks down at my dick longingly. “Why?”

“Because I want to see you painted in my cum,” I say as I grip my cock, jerking my hand up it quickly, and circling my fist over the head before sliding back down my shaft. “And then when I’m done, I’ll clean you off, but we’ll both know that you’re my dirty girl.”

My fingers press harder on her clit as I pick up the pace, and she’s breathing heavily as she continues sliding her hips back and forth along the dildo.

“Say it.” I grind out the words while trying to hold in my orgasm until she’s there with me.

A groove forms between her eyebrows. “Say what?”

“Tell me you’re my dirty girl,” I say, lifting my fingers off her clit so I’m barely touching her. She whimpers in response. “And then I’ll let you come again.”

“Yes,” she says with an eager nod, shocking me when shedoesn’t argue. She’s so desperate for this release, and it’s a goddamn pleasure to watch her let go of her control like this. “I’m your dirty girl. Now fuckingmake me come, Colt.”

Pinching her clit between my fingers, I gently stroke her from all sides. As she cries out over and over with the orgasm that rips through her, I finally stop holding back. Ropes of my cum shoot across her stomach and up onto her breasts, as I press my forehead to hers and I let out an anguished groan myself.

I’m not used to these feelings accompanying sex, and it’s almost too much ... too overwhelming, too thrilling and scary at the same time. I’m falling so fast and hard for her and there’s absolutely no question in my mind...she’s it for me.

When we’re both spent, I pull her to me, letting our bodies press together as I run my hands up her back and into her hair. Tilting her head backward, I let all my affection for her pour out through a tender kiss. The way Jules slides her arms over my shoulders, one hand moving into my hair and the other down my spine as she holds me to her, I’m praying she feels the same way.

“I know I didn’t give youexactlywhat you wanted, but hopefully it’ll hold you over?” I ask the question like I’m teasing her, but there’s a small, vulnerable part of me that’s worried that being with me like this won’t be enough for her. That she won’t be willing to wait, to let this grow into something that’s more than just physical for her. And that thought terrifies me because Jules has already burned a hole straight into my heart, and if she doesn’t feel the same way about me, I’ll probably bleed out.

Chapter Thirty-Three

JULES

“What do you think of this?” Morgan asks as she brings the camera over to Rosie, to make sure that she doesn’t move from her seated position, so that if she’s happy with the angle, we can re-record from the same place.

Rosie takes a look at the camera as Morgan plays the clip back and says, “It’s fine. I don’t know why I even care about showing the other side of my face.” She sounds like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Because you’ve been through hell,” I say, “and you don’t need to be reminded of it. We can show the world what a badass you are, without having to dredge up your past.”

I want her to know that part of what makes her strong is how much she’s endured and overcome, but that’s not the only reason she’s amazing.

Rosie takes a deep breath and says, “Yeah, but would this testimonial be more powerful if I talked about my past? Thatway, people would know what you helped me overcome to achieve what I did.”

I hear the side door open in the kitchen, and glance over to see Colt walking through it before I say, “Youovercame that.Youdid the work. I just gave you a little guidance.”

Rosie shakes her head. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” I ask.

“Your worth.”

Tears spring to my eyes and my nose waters, and I have to sniff and look away before I start crying. When Morgan first suggested developing some sort of school-to-career pipeline to help more women enter the trades, I never could have imagined the women I’d meet. Rosie was the first woman to accept the offer of mentorship, and while we’ve been able to help a dozen more women too, Rosie will always hold a special place in my heart. As apparently, I do in hers.

Colt steps up behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me to him so my back is against his chest as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “She really doesn’t,” he says. “But if we keep working on her, maybe we can convince her.”

A smile spreads across Rosie’s face. “And who are you?”

“I’m Colt, Jules’s fiancé.” He lets me go as he leans forward and holds his arm out to shake her hand, and even as I glance over at them, I’m still in shock. He’s introduced me to his family and friends back home as his fiancée, and to his teammates and their wives and girlfriends too...but it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him introducehimselfas my fiancé. And I’m trying really hard not to read too much into it, but the pride I heard in his voice keeps me teary-eyed.

Rosie’s eyebrows are practically at her hairline as sheshakes his hand, then looks at me. “You got engaged and didn’t even say anything? Where’s the ring?”

“Idon’t usually wear it during the week because I don’t want anything to happen to it at work.” And, you know, because we’re not really engaged.

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