Page 112 of Hot Shot

I reach between us for my cock to find my way inside her body, desperate need pulsing through me, centered there where I’m so hard and aching. “Fuck, you feel so good bare.”

We talked about her birth control pills and sexual health and agreed to dispense with condoms, and Mr. Big and I wereveryhappy about that. I push inside her in a long slide of pleasure and she’s scalding hot around me, so tight, so wet.

I rock into her body and she moves against me in an erotic rhythm, murmured words and soft sighs passing our lips between deep kisses. She’s all smooth skin, warm curves, that heady scent making me lightheaded. Every move feels like rapture. Bliss. Happiness.

As Carrie’s body tightens beneath me and her fingers dig into me, I lift my head to watch her face, taking in her whimpers of delight as she comes, rippling around me. So fucking beautiful. The best kind of high. Then I can’t hold off and my own mighty orgasm crashes over me. I press my face to her neck, holding myself deep inside her. “Love you. So much.”

“Mmm. Love you too.”

EPILOGUE

Marco

“G Gallery is committed to promoting youth art, providing a safe place where young artists can explore their talents, promoting neighborhood beautification through art, and fostering creative cooperation and safety.”

I watch Carrie speak from the podium set up in the big space, looking out at the small group gathered for the opening of G Gallery. In the audience are her family, including her niece, Julia; all her siblings, who’ve also gotten involved; her friends, including Hayden and Beck; Julia’s graffiti gang friends; a bunch of media covering the event for local news; a city councilmember; and some other business owners in the community. I meet Carrie’s eyes and smilingly encourage her.

Pride swells inside me, watching her up there speaking so eloquently and confidently, looking gorgeous but also professional in a tailored dress that hugs her curves. I’m also proud of what she’s accomplished with this gallery over the last few months. She and her mom have worked tirelessly to raise money to support the gallery, recruit volunteers, and deal with city regulations.

“We know that outdoor murals have been effective in reducing graffiti vandalism,” she continues. “Engaging our youth in these projects and supporting arts and culture creates economic development and social benefits. We want to capture the imaginations of youth and focus their efforts in positive ways so they can develop their talents, grow, and contribute to the community in meaningful ways.”

She goes on to thank the many people involved in the project, and then with a ceremonial snip of a big ribbon across the front of the room they declare G Gallery open.

We raised enough money to pay a small salary to a director—Carrie. The board of directors included her mother and her sister, and some of our larger donors. She’s also going to teach photography to kids if there’s enough interest.

Her photography continues to sell well at Bowes Gallery, as do my sculptures, much to my amusement, since I don’t really consider myself an artist. But hey, the money I make gets donated to G Gallery, so that’s a good thing.

Carrie starts mingling with the crowd and I move toward her. I wrap her up in a big hug and feel the slight trembling of her body. Nerves. She’s been terrified about this whole thing. “You did great,” I murmur. “Perfect.”

“Thank you.”

I give her a quick kiss and then stay at her side as we talk to various guests.

Hayden and Beck join us. “This is awesome, Carrie!” Hayden says. “I’m so impressed!”

Carrie beams a big smile, and I know that not only am I proud of my girl, she’s proud of herself. And that’s about the best thing of all.

When everyone has toured the gallery to see the various art spaces, the storage rooms for paints, pencils, canvases and sketch pads, the small snack kitchen and offices, the guests departed, and we’ve closed up ready to open tomorrow, some of us go to Conquistadors to celebrate.

Carrie’s parents come, Beck and Hayden obviously, Cade, and Anna Bowes join us. Carrie’s siblings decline due to having kids they need to get home and to bed.

We sit at a big round table and Reese, our new server, approaches to take our orders.

“I think champagne is in order,” I say. “Bring us a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. That should be good to start.”

Reese nods and departs.

“She doesn’t smile much,” I mutter to Cade.

“I know.” Cade is watching Reese with a weird expression. Kind of like the day he hired her.

“You’re not fucking around with her, are you?” I demand in a low voice.

“No!”

“Okay, good. We have a hard enough time keeping people.”

“So why did you all name the bar Conquistadors?” Mrs. Garner asks.

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