Page 97 of Fake Shot

“Yep.”

“Why do you need more donors? Should I have made a bigger donation?”

“You can’t be our only donor, Colt.”

His hand slides along my lower back and loops around my waist, pulling me toward him. “And why not?”

“Because I don’t want to milk you for all you’re worth,” I say, squeezing his strong thigh playfully where it rests beneath my hand.

His laugh is deep, and his breath ruffles my hair when he says, “I think I’d be okay with you milking me for all I’m worth, Jules.” I know he’s not talking about money right now, and immediately my thoughts go to yesterday and the way he left his release all over my body. I cross my legs to quell the ache between them as the memories rip through me. I need this man. I need him in my bed, but I also need him in my life and in my house.

I need him taking care of me the way that only he can—the perfect balance of showing me how strong I can be and holding me in my moments of weakness.

Looking over my shoulder at him, I shake my head through a laugh. “I think you should take me home.”

His hand presses into my belly as his thumb strokes the underside of my breast. “I was thinking the same thing.”

We scoot out of the booth, saying our goodbyes, and I tell Audrey we’ll chat tomorrow morning about the meeting. McCabe looks at his phone, grumbling about his nanny being flighty and unreliable, and slides out of the booth with us. We walk out together, and even though they’re both heading back to the arena to get their cars, Colt tells McCabe he’ll see him later.

As McCabe speeds on ahead, Colt backs me into the glass wall of a storefront half a block down the street from the Neon Cactus.

He steps in close—not enough that he’s touching me, but enough that I can feel the current of sexual tension humming between us. His stance is wide, so I barely have to look up at him as he reaches out to stroke his thumb along the tender flesh of my lower lip.

“I don’t want to leave after the game on Thursday,” he says, his words a whispered admission.

“And I don’t want you to go.” But he has to. We both know it. I don’t know how many more years he plans to play, but the thought of feeling like this every time he travels, and knowing that he’s gone about half of every season...I don’t know how I’d do it. I don’t know if that’s even what he wants?

Leaning forward, he rests his forehead on mine. “Is this what falling in love feels like?”

My stomach flips over almost painfully in my belly, and I have to clear my throat because it feels too thick to speak. “I don’t know. But I think...maybe it is?”

“Are you telling me I’m not in this alone?” The vulnerability in his question hits me hard.

I guess this is what Audrey meant when she asked me when the last time was that it felt fake. And I can’t remember anymore, because in all honesty, it stopped feeling fake almost immediately.

“I don’t even know whatthisis, Colt. But whatever it is, I’m in it with you.”

Colt leans down, kissing me tenderly, before he pulls back and says, “You’ve gradually become the single most important person in my life. None of this is fake for me. I’m not sure it ever was.”

His tender kisses turn needy and insistent, and I want to be alone with him. I want his clothes off and our bodies pressed together, and I’m not willing to wait a second longer. When I tell him as much, he links our fingers together, pulls me to the edge of the sidewalk, and hails a cab.

“What about your car?” I ask, even though I don’t want to waste time going to get it.

“Fuck the car. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

He opens the cab door for me, and I slide in behind the driver, and when Colt gets in, he tells the driver the address and promises him a good tip if he can get us there in five minutes or less. We speed through the streets of Boston, as Colt’s hand moves up my inner thigh and his fingers trail between my legs. As he runs his fingers along my seam, pressing the thick fabric of my jeans into my clit, I have to swallow down the moan that wants to erupt from the pleasure he’s already bringing me. He teases me over and over until I’m craving him in a way that feels nearly uncontrollable.I want his fingers inside me so I can fuck them right in the back of this cab.

And then the cabbie takes the turn a little too fast, and I’m thrown toward him. He easily captures me in his hands and sets me on his lap. I’m sitting on his huge erection while he quickly undoes the button of my jeans and pulls the zipper down, and I’m hoping the cabbie can’t hear the drag of metal against metal over the music he’s playing.

Colt slides his hand down the front of my jeans, dipping his fingers into the front of the lace thong I sewed myself and sliding his fingers along my slick seam before bringing the moisture up to circle my clit. My back arches as I react to his touch and he brings his other hand under my shirt, running his thumb over my nipple as he slides one long finger of his other hand into me. The contact—him entering me while also stroking my breast—has me bucking my hips to meet the shallow thrusts of his finger. His movement is hampered by my jeans, and in this moment, I have no shame. I’d pull them down right now if we weren’t already turning onto my street.

“Alright,” the cabbie says after clearing his throat like he knows exactly what we’re up to back here. “Under five minutes, as promised.”

When Colt pulls his finger out of me, I want to cry. I need him so badly I’m not sure I can wait until we get into the house. But I don’t have a choice, because he’s pulling my shirt down over my open jeans, then opening the door for me. He reaches into his wallet and takes out several bills, which he hands through the opening in the divider between the front and back seats before he steps out of the cab himself.

The way his pants are tented at the zipper as he stands on the sidewalk, looking at me through a lust-filled haze, has me reaching out to stroke him. He lets out a groan, then grabs my hand and pulls me up the front steps, clearly in as much of a hurry to get naked with me as I am with him.

As soon as the door closes behind me, he’s pressed me up against it, pulling my legs up so they’re wrapped around his waist, and then he’s thrusting his enormous and ridiculously hard cock against my clit. The sensation has me moaning into his mouth as his tongue tangles with mine. I slide my hands along his shoulders and push his jacket down until he lets it fall off each arm before bringing his hands back to my ass. I thread mine into his hair, dragging my fingertips along his scalp gently. It’s a caress at first, and then I’m digging my fingers into his head, pulling him closer, changing the angle as I pour all my feelings into that kiss.

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